"Okay, how am I doing?"

"J-Just fine," He says, attempting to cradle the phone between his ear and his shoulder so he can use both hands. Beads of sweat appear on Ludwig's forehead, and when he speaks again his voice is slightly strained. "Now what?"

"Mmkay, well, now you want to knead it really well," Feliciano replies cheerfully. "Use the heels of your hands if you need to."

"A-alright…" He shifts nervously where he stands, half-pondering if he should set the phone down before his neck cramps up but then realizes that he probably shouldn't touch it with his hands right now and so now he has to stand with his head tilted to the side in the middle of the kitchen and listen to Feliciano hum and chatter on and he thinks it's really a good thing that Gilbert is out with his friends right now otherwise he'd never hear the end of it.

Ludwig's neck is really starting to cramp up and there is a funny sort of clicking noise that he assumes is coming from Feliciano's end. It takes a while, but he thinks he's finally got it, and returns back to the conversation, breathing hard.

"What next?"

"Pick it up with both hands, and continue to knead. It should be warm from your hands and slightly sticky."

Ludwig is about to follow the directions when he hears it. A slight gagging noise on the other end. He frowns, even though no one can see him. "What was that?"

"It wasn't me," Feliciano replies, sounding just as confused. "I don't know what that was."

There's a pause. They're both listening to hear the odd sound again. When it isn't repeated, Ludwig narrows his eyes in suspicion, but returns back to his work with vigor. Perhaps too much vigor, because his elbow accidentally catches against a pan on the edge of the counter, and it falls to the floor with a clatter and the loud noise makes him flinch slightly.

On the other end, Feliciano makes a noise that sounds like a giggle. "You're really loud, Ludwig."

His face must be burning now. He can't see his reflection, but the German is pretty sure of it. He mumbles something like an apology and shifts his shoulder again, trying to work out the stiffness in his neck. There's that strange gagging noise again, slightly louder this time, but if Feliciano notices it, he doesn't mention it and Ludwig decides to just ignore it.

"Okay, is that done?"

"Done."

"Perfect. Now you want to check and make sure it's nice and thick, and then you want to-"

"OH MY GOD I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE."

…is that Alfred?

"Ve, hi Alfred!" Feliciano takes this sudden surprise in stride. Ludwig wouldn't be surprised if he's waving a hello to the unseen American at this very moment. "Have you been here this entire time?"

"Yes and oh my god I can't take this anymore I don't care what my boss says I am never listening in on your guys' conversations again. Holy shit I'm going to need brain bleach." Alfred seems to speak this all in one panicked breath and hangs up abruptly.

A short silence follows.

"I didn't know Alfred could tap into your phones," Feliciano finally says.

"…neither did I."

"Haha, well, he must have been really interested about how to make pasta, huh?"

"...I don't think that was quite it."

As Feliciano continues to chatter on and on about proper boiling temperatures and sauce flavorings, Ludwig marks this down as 'something to definitely tell Frau Merkel about later'.

THIS IS PROBABLY THE STUPIDEST THING I HAVE EVER WRITTEN I'M SORRY.

Obviously written during the whole 'U.S.A. wiretapping France and Germany's conversations' debacle that went down a while ago. Current events, Hetalia, and alcohol just don't mix okay.

I don't own Hetalia.

Mischief Managed!