Homeless Italian In Need Of A Bed

[loves_pasta]

WHO: Feliciano, Gilbert, Ludwig, Old Fritz, Blackie
WHEN: Wed. Sept, 16. Late Afternoon
WHERE: Ludwig and Gilbert's place
WHAT: Feli needs a place to stay after getting kick out of the Charleston... Damn rent not waiting for them while they were in jail...
RATING: Nakedness? Beat up peoplez begging for a place to stay? idk man

Comments

DON'T MAKE ME BREAK OUT THE YOOK TEARS FOOL!!

[loves_pasta]

There was no answer when he knocked the first time. Ludwig had dogs right? And he didn't think his boss' older brother had a job. Swallowing thickly he knocked again, hoping he wouldn't have to find another place, despite the awkwardness that had happened a few weeks ago.

There was an angry shout and the muffled thump of something hitting the door. Feliciano squeaked in surprise, dropping his bag and taking a few shaky steps back. Well, it looked like someone was home... sleeping. Maybe he should come back later? A look at the time gave him a definite no. Jail was not good for siestas or sleep in general and the bags showed his need for a bed.

The doorbell was rung this time. "Ludwig? Ludwig's big brother? I need help, ve." he tried again. Thinking on it, had Ludwig even noticed he;d been missing from work?

YER SCARING THE ITALIAN FOOL

[loves_pasta]

Feliciano jumped, hand leaping away from the door and curling against his chest. He had been ready to knock again when there was shouting from the other side. Apparently Gilbert had finally gotten up.

"I-it's Feliciano, ve," he answered back. Shouting was not his favorite thing to hear right now. Raised voices just reminded him of the interrogations he had been forced through. Interrogation reminded him of Vash, which reminded him of getting pistol whipped. "C-came I come in, ve? Please?"

YER A BASTARD, NO GROPING FOR YOU!

[loves_pasta]

No?

Feliciano couldn't stop the frown no matter how much he wanted to and it tugged painfully on his stitches. The words had cut off mid-sentence but he still felt rejected. He reached down for his bag, ready to just slink off and hope he could find somewhere else to stay.

A spark of hope ignited when he heard the knob turn though, stitches throbbing painfully again as he smiled. It fell again though at the rude questioning. Hadn't he already said he needed help?

"Si, I should be at work..." he admitted sheepishly, playing with the strap of his duffel. So Gilbert hadn't noticed that he was gone, did that mean Ludwig didn't either? "I kinda... need a place to stay, ve," the Italian added on, starring at the floor.

LIES, NONE CAN LIVE WITHOUT HOT ITALIAN STALLIONS

[loves_pasta]

Feliciano winced, nodding slightly. "S-something like that, ve..." he answered. When Gilbert had opened the door he slipped inside, shooting the large black dog a frightened look.

"R-really?" he squeaked, quickly following Gilbert towards the couch and away from the dog. He was fine with animals but the bone-crushing part didn't seem very nice. He also wondered where the dog had been when he visited that one time.

The Italian let down his things near the wall, quickly pulling out a bottle of pain pills and dry-swallowing one. Expressions were really hurting his face and he made a note to never cross Vash, or Logan, again. Not that he meant to the first time.

"Do you know when Ludwig will be back, ve?" he asked, making a point to not look at the screen. He was leaning down, arms crossed on the back of the couch and head nestled comfortably on them. Even this couch would be heaven compared to jail and he was suddenly aware of how tired he was.

SLANDER AND LIES; SO NOT AWESOME MAN

[loves_pasta]

The part about the dog was still a bit scary and he made a not to stay away from the canine... assuming he would be allowed to stay. He hoped so, no one else would have enough room to take him in probably.

"Ludwig leaves later than me, ve..." he mumbled, nose scrunching as he yawned. Romano had probably already gotten to Antonio's and was dead to the world, curled up on something soft and warm.

Feliciano nearly bit his lips at the next line of questioning. "I... I've been gone for the week, ve. Things came up..." Actually he was surprised no one seemed to know, wouldn't something like a mafia bust be in the papers? Absently he stood straight up, one hand carefully running up his right arm to lay over a mostly shirt covered bruise. God he wanted a shower, and some sleep. After Gilbert's blog that one time he rarely went into the showers when given the chance, scared of the whole 'dropping the soap' deal.

NO, READING FUCKING AMAZING BOOKS DID. I HAVE PART 3 OF DAVINCI CODE NOW

[loves_pasta]

Feliciano let his head hand, rubbing at his bruise with a barely concealed noise of pain. If he had anyone else in mind he would have probably just left then. His stomach gave a low growl and he quickly wrapped his arms around it, glaring... or not.

He swallowed thickly, keeping his arms tight around himself. "R-romano's got problems to worry about too, ve." he answered after a moment. "We... we kinda got kicked out of our apartment... I was gonna ask Ludwig if I could stay for a bit, ve." The younger male looked around, reaching up to rub at his eyes.

HELL YES, GET IN THE KITCHEN FOOL, MAKE ME SUM FOODZ

[loves_pasta]

"... Kinda, ve. We weren't around to." Nor did they have the money since their parent's had fled. No notes, no calls, and the family bank account was near empty, a grand total of maybe three hundred dollars in it.

Feliciano instantly perked up at the mention of food, nodding eagerly. Prison food had been disgusting and if he could help it he was never eating frozen dinners or canned food again. He sort of knew his way around the kitchen from when he brought pasta over and suddenly found himself yearning for flour and eggs along with the mess of other ingredients needed for fresh pasta. Bread would do though, and he even managed to find some lunch meat to make a rather cheap sandwich.

"The chick is cute, ve~ Does it have a name?" the Italian finally noticed the fluffy object on Gilbert's shoulder, head tilting as he tried to read the label on the bottle. Jaegermeister was German right? Maybe Ludwig had a secret stash?... Highly unlikely but a guy could wish, couldn't he?

TCH WHATEV. MAKE ME SUM STIR-FRY AZN HOUSE WIFE NUMBA 2

[loves_pasta]

What did he want to eat? Well pasta would have been nice but Ludwig had told him that he never really ate pasta much. That also scratched out homemade pizza, but both required lots of movement anyways. "I'll be fine with a sandwich, ve..."

Feliciano glanced over at the dog, shuddering as it stared at him before trotting to lick up the spilled liquid. Well he'd caught sight of the odd lettering. It may not be Ludwig's but there was Jeagermeister in this house. Maybe he could find the rest and sneak some later?

"Ve, she's cute," the younger man grinned only slightly, still careful of his stitches. Eating the sandwich was a bit awkward but he managed. "You have more?"