Tedious was the best word. It was the only word, but also the best word to describe Ludwig Beilschmidt. He was a hard working man, always arriving early to the office and leaving well after everyone else because he was a man of efficiency and he wanted to do his job well. It was indeed hard to screw up being a Travel Agent, but he'd been told on numerous occasions that his demeanor and serious aura made him seem less interested in the customers so his logic dictated that he should just work harder.

It was always the same. Wake up, shower, comb back hair, get dressed in a stuffy suit, then work for more than 12 hours. Every single day, Monday through Friday, it was always the same. Naturally, any family members that still spoke to him worried about his health, even though he was as tall and bulky as ever, and his brother never left him alone about 'loosening up' and being more 'awesome'. It was bothersome but never did Ludwig say anything because he did realize that his lifestyle wasn't the healthiest one but he enjoyed working and nothing would change that.

That was why, when Gilbert came strutting into the office at 6:00 when most everyone but Ludwig was gone, the blond got an overwhelming sense of foreboding that said Gilbert was here to bug him about something. Again.

"WEST! How's my favorite brother doing? Awesome of course, because I'm here to entertain you! Anyways before you kick me out I have a proposition for you!"

Sighing tiredly, Ludwig set his glasses down on the desk and rubbed the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

"What is it now Gilbert? I am working."

"Yeah, I know, that's why I'm here! You need to get out and go somewhere that isn't your boring stuffy office or your boring stuffy house. Just tonight, then I won't ask again for like, a month."

"I can't. I have to work. I have vacation portfolios that are due next Thursday."

"It's like, Friday. You have a week. Please West c'mon! Just tonight."

Ludwig cradled his chin in his hand, peering up at the albino with resigned eyes.

"Make it two months that you do not bug me, and we have a deal."

Gilbert actually reeled back a bit, surprise written over his face and his jaw dropped. After a few seconds of spluttering and unconvinced squinting, he finally said something intelligible.

"Are you for real? Seriously?"

He received a tired nod.

"Alright! But you like, seriously gotta change out of that suit and wear something a bit more . . . attractive. I'll pick you up at 7:30, so get your ass home and get ready, because I WILL be on time."

With that, leaving no more room for discussion, Gilbert left as quickly as he arrived, leaving Ludwig to grumble to himself while he packed up.

It wasn't that Ludwig didn't enjoy spending time with his brother, or that he hated going out. He just liked his job and the satisfaction that came with doing it well better. But, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he really did need at least one night of loosening up. His body was starting to take the blunt end of all the stress, and if he didn't get a few beers and a good time in his system he might actually end up hurting himself.

So, once he'd put his laptop and glasses into his briefcase, he made his way down to his car to drive home. He milled over where Gilbert was planning on taking them but for the life of him couldn't think of anywhere his brother liked to go. So was the toll of never going out with him.

When 7:25 rolled around, Ludwig was freshly showered and dressed in khaki pants with a blue and white striped button up and a black zipped up jacket over it, both sleeves rolled to his elbows. He nodded once before pushing his hair back with his fingers and grabbing his wallet and keys.

Gilbert was, surprisingly, right on time. It seemed that he was if it was something he wanted to do, naturally. It only took a few seconds of waiting before he started honking obnoxiously.

After Ludwig locked the doors and walked outside to get in the car, he was greeted with a shockingly well dressed Gilbert who, by Ludwig's assessment, looked much too excited.

"Woah! Is that my baby brother all dressed like a normal 24 year old?"

"I was lucky to find these clothes in my closet. I did not even remember owning these. You look more dressed up than usual. Where are we even going?"

"Ahh, you'll see in due time."

Sighing and shaking his head, Ludwig buckled his seatbelt and prepared for the ride that would undoubtedly consist of terrifying driving, loud Rammstein threatening to burst the speakers, and Gilbert screaming German curses at anyone driving less than ten miles per hour over the speed limit. It would not be fun, in lesser terms.

After about ten minutes in the nightmare on wheels, they pulled into a parking lot that sat very full in front of a building that Ludwig could already hear the music coming out of. He already didn't like this.

"Gilbert, where are we?"

"The North Pole."

"What? I am being serious."

"Yeah, so am I. This place is called The North Pole. You'll see why."

Then with a wink of an eye, Gilbert turned off the engine and stepped out of the car, Ludwig close behind.

When they got closer to the door, Ludwig could smell the thick stench of alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat permeating from the inside of wherever they were. Loud music also filtered out from the tinted glass doors and once they'd passed the suspicious group lingering just a few feet away, Ludwig fell into step close to Gilbert. He already had a small idea of where exactly they were.

He was right. But at the same time, he was so, so wrong.

He'd expected the tinted lights and the loud music. He'd expected the packed bar and abundance of people. Yes, he even expected half naked people dancing on poles in provocative clothing that was littered with singles and sometimes larger bills.

But he had not expected that all of these dancers would be men and that the bartender would shout out familiar greetings to Gilbert as if he'd been there a thousand times.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt. You took me to a gay strip club."

Gilbert looked over his shoulder at Ludwig like he'd just said the dumbest thing ever.

"Well, yeah. I always come here on Friday nights. It's like, the greatest place ever."

"You never told me you were gay."

"Neither did you but I just figured it out on my own."

Ludwig's jaw dropped.

"What makes you think I'm gay?"

"Bro, I just know stuff like this. Am I wrong?"

He just stared with pink cheeks and a dying noise squeaking from his throat. He couldn't really think of anything to say. When Gilbert smirked and nodded, continuing his path to an empty table near the back.

Once they'd sat down and Ludwig resigned to his fate, he took a look around and was immediately bored with every one of the dancers. Sure, they were attractive and yes they had very nice bodies and faces but that's all they were. Bodies and faces. They weren't beautiful or stunning nor did they possess any allure. He saw nothing that would ever peak his interest.

He decided to at least get something out of the night, so while Gilbert seemed mesmerized by a particularly risqué dancer, Ludwig stood to go get them beer.

The club was actually decently nice, and even Ludwig could admit that it seemed to be capable of offering a fun night. He shook his head and let out a tired chuckle. It was so very like Gilbert to pull this.

The beer was great. Fantastic, actually, so that added another check to the good side of Ludwig's mental good-bad chart. He held Gilberts in one hand as he sipped at his own and tried to maneuver between the hoard surrounding the bar. It had taken him twenty minutes just to get two beers and by now the song had changed to that of something by Adam Lambert, something that seemed fitting, Ludwig thought. But he also figured he should get back to Gilbert before he began to assume he'd already picked up someone to bring home.

But when he passed the first station closest to the bar he was immediately halted, his feet heavy like lead and his eyes glued on the scantily clad figure on top of the marble surface.

The dancer that was there before must have switched with the boy who was there now, because there was no way that Ludwig would have ever missed someone as incredibly and impeccably beautiful as this. His eyes were drawn, and he couldn't look away.

He was young. Maybe 22, but Ludwig was skeptical because how could anyone older than that be so gorgeous? A lithe body with sun kissed skin and long feminine legs and the tiniest most adorable feet Ludwig had ever seen on a male, his enchantingly tight behind encased in tiny red shorts that Ludwig would never get the image of out of his head. Not to mention the slender hips and supple stomach that led to a perfect chest but broad shoulders and long arms that had the perfect amount of muscle that rippled slightly under his skin as he pulled himself up.

But the one thing that captured Ludwig's attention was his face. Oh God his face, with pink pouty lips and a small perfect nose and huge amber eyes that were surrounded by long thick lashes. He was beautiful. Strikingly, heart breakingly, heavenly beautiful, and when his honey auburn hair that was as smooth and shiny as silk fell into his eyes as he tossed his head back, Ludwig swore that the light caught him in such a way that made him seem like the sun.

He just stared, and stared, and did not move until the boy was finished, his gems of eyes giving a wink as he strut off of the stage with his outrageous amount of tips. It was then and only then that Ludwig shook himself from his stupor and begrudgingly made his way back to the table, only to be met with a disgruntled Gilbert.

"Where the hell did you go? I assumed you were getting beer and I've been waiting for like, forty five minutes."

"I did get beer. There was . . . a long wait."

Ludwig sat the now room temperature beer in front of his brother, who after frowning at the beer cracked a suspicious smirk.

"You talked to someone, didn't you?"

"Er, no, not exactly."

"Ahh, so you saw someone who interested you, did you not?"

Ludwig blushed and drank his beer while his eyes burned a hole in the floor.

"Oh man, my baby brother got all caught up in a strip dance, how cute! So, which one was it? Show me, show me."

"Nein, he is gone already. He only did one dance, then left. But he got more tips than most of these guys see in probably two entire nights of work. He was . . . something."

Gilbert let out one of his strange snickers and sipped at his beer some more.

"Was he the one at the station nearest to the bar?"

Ludwig nodded.

"Oh! Well, I couldn't see him too well, but Mattie says that he just started working here last week. Seems like he's doing a pretty kick ass job though if he got Mr. Stuffy Pants to gawk at him!"

"Who's Mattie?"

"Oh, just some cute Canadian kid who gets dragged here by his annoying brother on Friday nights."

"Sounds like a familiar situation."

Gilbert just laughed and slapped Ludwig on the shoulder while drinking his beer, continuing to watch the other dancers and chat with who Ludwig assumed was Matt. Once it reached around one in the morning, Ludwig called a cab and dragged Gilbert outside while he slurred about wanting to drink 'just one more beer West just one more' even though he'd already had around six or seven. He'd lost count.

So, after that night, Ludwig continued his every day schedule, grueling and boring but productive and time worthy. At least to him. It continued that way, Ludwig falling back into the normal swing of things and content to the fullest.

But on Monday when he sat in his office surrounded by papers and the scent of fresh printed documents and the sound of his computer fan whirring as the only thing to break the silence, he suddenly wished to be back at the club and watching the mesmerizing body of the dancer he'd been so entranced by. He simply craved the way that lithe frame moved, the way the soft lights played perfectly over his soft skin, the way his shorts fit so tight and they were the only thing on his body at all because he didn't need to be covering that gift to Earth.

He shook his head and sighed, trying to concentrate on work again instead of replaying the short ten minutes in his brain. He did, however, decide that he wanted to see him again badly enough to endure another night out with Gilbert. It wasn't usually that Ludwig went out anyways, so it wouldn't hurt too much.

So, he texted Gilbert to tell him that he'd be going with him again on Friday and that seemed to make his brother's day because he would not stop texting back numerous times about what he'd be wearing and what time they should go and many other stupid benign things that Ludwig did not care about.

Friday came and went, Ludwig extremely and obviously upset that for some reason the dancer was nowhere to be found, even though they'd gone at the same time as the week before. Then, another Friday passed, and another, and finally a month later, Ludwig had still seen no sign of the boy even though he'd spend hours upon hours in that club every Friday night with Gilbert just waiting, craving, hoping. But there was nothing. It was like he'd vanished.

So, here he was, Saturday afternoon, sitting in his living room with lemonade and a book in his hand. He was bored, really, but he was also disappointed and upset, and honestly he didn't want to deal with anyone or go anywhere.

But Gilbert had other plans. He'd texted Ludwig, effectively scaring him senseless because of the shrill beeping in the stark silence, to ask him to pick up something for him at the art store because he was out of gas and he had a sculpture he was desperately trying to finish and needed supplies.

So, begrudgingly and with a loud string of curses and groans, he got dressed and dragged himself out the front door to drive to the art store in the center of town. As much as he didn't want to go out, he did thoroughly enjoy the scent of paint, wood, and clay that wafted over him once he'd entered the shop. He was by no means an artist, but he loved the scent of the supplies. It was Earthy, pure, and beautiful.

Now, scanning the isle that had massive blocks of clay, he was mumbling idly to himself in an attempt to find the exact type that Gilbert, repeatedly and obnoxiously, requested. It all looked the same, but if you touched it, some was rock solid while others were dark and watery and molded under one touch, and some was green and smelled of moss and there were even blocks of pure white clay that had baking instructions on it, which Ludwig didn't really understand. But eventually he found what Gilbert wanted, it of course being a brand that was tucked away into the furthest corner.

So, tucking the large rectangle under his arm, he made his way around the next isle, which happened to be paints, to go check out and drop the clay off at Gilbert's apartment.

But when he turned the corner he stopped, the feeling in his stomach and the weight of his feet all too familiar to that of the first Friday night that month ago. He felt like he just couldn't move, like his eyes were glued and motionless and his entire body was that of a boulder.

Because there he stood, his knee high brown boots over his corduroy khaki pants and his long brown fall coat with his hands shoved deep into the pockets. The bright blue scarf that was wrapped around his neck hid his chin and mouth, but the eyes were absolutely unmistakable along with his figure that Ludwig could see even under the jacket and in the pants. He was smiling, it could be seen clearly in his eyes, and he was staring at the assortment of paints and canvases like a child in a candy shop. He seemed to be in love, enchanted at the sight of so many different paints and brushes and sizes of canvas, but when Ludwig watched him pick up a tube and look down at the price, his eyes widening and then turning sad, it almost broke his heart.

So, mustering up any and every ounce of courage he had, Ludwig slowly meandered up next to the other, following his line of vision to a particularly beautiful shade of blue.

"You are a painter."

The smaller seemed to jump a bit at the new voice next to him, but immediately relaxed and turned to look up at Ludwig with a dimpled smile. Ludwig just about melted.

"Yes. It's just that . . . I am almost out of paints, and I just moved here so I've never seen an art store this big! There's so many . . . It's incredible, really, but I really don't have the money to buy even the cheapest ones. See, I moved here because my brother is in the hospital and I wanted to be closer to him but I also have to help with the bills and pay my rent and I have a . . . not so great job so . . . Oh, I'm so sorry. . . I am talking too much."

Ludwig was surprised at the boy's voice. It was soft, like wind chimes, but had a heavy presence and was very hard to ignore. But it was so beautiful, and honestly Ludwig could listen to him talk forever.

"No. It is okay, I assure you. My brother talks much more than you do."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad. I've been told that I speak too much. You seem very nice. What's your name, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Ah, it's uh . . . It's Ludwig. Ludwig Beilschmidt."

He stuck his hand out and tried his best to smile warmly, and he assumed he succeeded when a substantially smaller hand did its best to wrap around his.

"Feliciano Vargas. It's nice to make your acquaintance Ludwig."

Ah, his name was beautiful as well. Feliciano. Ludwig just couldn't imagine how this sweet boy was a stripper. It escaped him entirely. But he wanted to do something nice for him. It sounded to Ludwig like life was not treating the other too nicely, so he figured a good deed could brighten his day.

"Er, I'll tell you what Feliciano."

The other looked up at Ludwig with a curiously quirked brow, silently asking what it was Ludwig was implying.

"You go ahead and pick out whatever you want, and I will buy it for you. You are a very nice boy and seem to be caring enough to move somewhere unfamiliar for your brother, so you deserve it."

Ludwig had a hard time not blushing, but when he noticed the smile that erupted like fireworks on Feliciano's face, he couldn't really help it. It seemed to make him so happy.

"R-Really? Are you sure? These are so expensive. . ."

"Please, by all means. Pick out as many of whatever as you'd like."

Feliciano just nodded and turned to the racks once again, his hands picking up bright colors, and subdued colors, and neutral colors as well as warm colors and cool colors and anything in between. Not once did the price cross Ludwig's mind. The only thing he thought about was how happy Feliciano looked, and how he lingered the longest at the blues because it seemed to be his favorite color, and how his smile did not falter once. It made warmth bloom in Ludwig's stomach.

After picking up a couple medium sized canvases, Feliciano looked up at Ludwig and, still smiling, nodded that he was done. All in all, he only got about fifteen or twenty tubes of paint and two canvases. It wasn't even close to what Ludwig thought he would pick up, actually.

They walked up to check out, Ludwig simply swiping his credit card and watching the bouncy brunette from the corner of his eyes, and then went out into the fall air. Ludwig turned to Feliciano just in time to be engulfed in a tight hug that made him gasp and blush like a tomato.

"Thank you so much. Really, this means a lot. I really don't know what I would do if I couldn't paint and I am almost out at home and I'm just so stressed lately so . . . thank you, Ludwig. Can I, uh, at least treat you to some coffee?"

Ludwig wanted to. He really wanted to, and his mind was screaming at him to say yes or else he'd probably never see Feliciano again. So, he really, really couldn't fathom why he said what he did.

"I wish I could, but I need to go give this to my brother or else he'll start freaking out, and he needs it for a sculpture right now so. . . I am sorry, but I can't."

Feliciano's smile seemed to falter just a bit and Ludwig mentally slapped himself for doing that because Feliciano was so amazing even in the short fifteen minutes they'd known each other. He was drawn in and he didn't think he could get out again, but damn him and his own nerves.

"Oh, that's okay Ludwig. But, thank you SO much for this. Maybe one day I can make it up to you!"

With that, Ludwig watched him walk away, a skip in his step and a grin on his face as he walked down the sidewalk and out of sight once again. Ludwig didn't know when or if he'd ever see him again, but hearing that voice, seeing that smile, learning that name, made it all worthwhile. He still hoped though, that next time Feliciano would really be there on Friday night and if he was, Ludwig promised himself that he would not hesitate. He couldn't let this one go. He was far too beautiful.