Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7227046.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F, M/M
  Fandom:
      Spring_Awakening_-_Sheik/Sater
  Relationship:
      Hanschen_Rilow/Ernst_Robel, Melchior_Gabor/Moritz_Stiefel, Martha
      Bessell/Thea, Wendla_Bergmann/Ilse_Neumann
  Character:
      Hanschen_Rilow, Ernst_Robel, Melchior_Gabor, Moritz_Stiefel, Martha
      Bessell, Thea_(Spring_Awakening), Thea_Rilow, Wendla_Bergmann, Ilse
      Neumann, Georg_Zirschnitz, Otto_Lammermeier, Anna_(Spring_Awakening),
      Mrs._Robel, Mr._Robel, Fanny_Gabor, Bobby_Maler, Mrs._Rilow, Mr._Rilow
  Additional Tags:
      Bobby_Maler_he's_the_worst, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Alternate
      Universe_-_Everyone_Lives/Nobody_Dies, Swearing, discussion_of_sex, Oral
      Sex, Blow_Jobs, self_harm_mention, abuse_mention, sexual_abuse_mention,
      Insecurity, body_image_issues, Cute_gays, Cunnilingus, Sex, Anal_Sex, woo
      boy_I'm_going_to_hell_my_children, Recreational_Drug_Use, Marijuana,
      Smoking, First_Time, Hanschen_And_Thea_Are_Siblings
  Series:
      Part 3 of A_More_Progressive_World,_Of_Course
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-06-17 Completed: 2016-09-06 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 30348
****** Have a Good Weekend ******
by hopingforaword
Summary
     It’s Hanschen and Ernst’s first big date this weekend, and Hanschen
     has legendary plans. A museum party, a fancy dinner, a night in a
     hotel room… Ernst isn’t sure he’s ready for all this attention,
     especially since he can’t afford to reciprocate. Meanwhile, Wendla
     and Ilse were looking forward to a great concert, but a huge
     snowstorm stops their plans. Melchior and Moritz wanted to do
     something, but they just end up back in Melchior’s bedroom. Thea,
     grounded after an outburst at dinner, sneaks out to Martha’s house.
     There’s a lot up in the air, but one thing’s for certain: this
     weekend is going to be one for the history books.
Notes
     So this is a sequel to All the Answers, but it could stand on its
     own. There are little references you might not get if you haven't
     read AtA but nothing too important. They’re all teenagers so they
     swear and talk about sex. Rating only comes from Hernst stuff at the
     end so if you skip that it's probably teen rated.
     Thanks to my best friend Emma for proofreading this and shouting at
     me for leaving cliffhangers.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Friday *****
Chapter Notes
     If you want to skip the sex part, stop reading at, "You look so good
     in that suit."
It was only their second day dating, but Ernst had been waiting years for this.
So when Hänschen pushed him against his locker and kissed him like the world
was about to end in front of the entire sophomore hallway, Ernst didn't mind.
He didn't even mind that they were two minutes late to homeroom, or that Ilse
wolf whistled when they walk in holding hands. He was happier than he'd ever
been in his life.
“So what are the two new lovebirds doing this weekend?” Wendla asked as Ernst
slipped into the seat between her and Hänschen. “Getting to know each other?”
Melchior leaned forward from his seat behind Wendla and said, “Yeah, in a
biblical sense probably.” Wendla swatted him playfully and he laughed, leaning
back to talk to Moritz.
“Well?” Wendla’s attention was back on Ernst. When he still didn’t respond she
said, “What are you guys doing this weekend?”
Ernst shrugged and looked at Hänschen, who was talking to his sister. “Hansi,”
Ernst called quietly and Hänschen turned around almost immediately. “What are
we doing this weekend?”
“I have tickets to an exhibit opening in the city tonight and we have a
reservation at a restaurant. Tomorrow we’re going ice skating and there’s a
bookshop downtown I want to check out.” Hänschen smiled and Ernst smiled back.
Wendla looked between the two of them.
“Get a room,” she whispered, smiling and turning to talk to Ilse.
Hänschen leaned closer to Ernst so that they could whisper without being
overheard. “Actually, we’ll be staying in a hotel room tonight.” Ernst’s eyes
were wide, so Hänschen barreled forward. “Not anything like–I’m not
expecting–we don’t have to if you don’t want to just like… it was easier to
stay in the city overnight.”
Ernst wanted to laugh at how normally smooth Hänschen was reduced to babbling
by him, but his heart was racing, something he thought was absurd. This was no
different than all the secret sleepovers they’d had at Hänschen’s when his
parents had gone out of town. It was the same thing just in a hotel. He had
nothing to worry about.
He smiled at Hänschen, who turned around to finish his conversation with his
sister. Ernst sat there, staring at his feet. He knew he was happy. But he was
also terrified for the coming weekend.
 
Wendla and Ilse have been planning this trip for months, so now that it’s here
the two of them can hardly contain their excitement. During first period math,
Wendla sits behind Ilse and stares at her blue and black hair, thinking of how
she'll look dancing around in the bright lights of the concert. Rachel Kann,
Anais Mitchell, and Doomtree, all performing in one amazing night. Ilse had her
driver’s license and was borrowing her mom’s car, and the only thing Wendla was
worried about was the very real possibility that they'd get distracted and lost
on the freeway.
“Don't worry,” Ilse whispered, seeming, as always, to be able to read Wendla’s
mind, “We’re going to have a great time this weekend.”
Wendla grinned and Ilse stole a glance behind her, grinning the same way,
before turning back around to refocus on the math on the board. Wendla and Ilse
had been together the longest of any of the friends, having started dating
around the middle of freshman year. Their one year anniversary was in two weeks
and the girls were as inseparable as ever. They were in love, and they both
knew it, even if they hadn't gone as far as Melchior and Moritz. That wasn't
what mattered. It was the love that mattered. Still, Ilse knew there was no
better time than this weekend to talk about  it . She loved Wendla, but they'd
also been dating for a year and she wanted more.
“Wendla,” Ilse whispered, not turning around.
“Yeah?”
“Before we leave tonight, can we talk?”
“Sure. What about?”
Ilse wanted to just raise her eyebrows until Wendla realized what she meant,
but turning around again would be dangerous and she really didn't need
detention today, so instead she whispered, as quietly as possible, “Sex.”
The soft, “Oh,” from behind reassured Ilse that Wendla had heard her, but made
her worry about the outcomes of the upcoming conversation. She slumped a little
in her chair as their math teacher reviewed the properties of radii again.
 
Moritz knows Melchior loves him. He  knows  even if Melchior still hasn't  said
it. Moritz sees it in the way Melchior speaks when he helps him with homework,
the look in his eyes when they're talking, the way he smiles across rooms as he
gives answers to complicated questions, the way he watches Moritz when he
thinks he isn't paying attention, the speed of his pulse when they're making
out, his shudders under Moritz’s hands, the sounds he makes when him and Moritz
lock themselves in his bedroom, the way he looks at Moritz when they're lying
in bed together, naked and tangled and panting. He  knows , but it'd still be
nice if Melchior could  say  it.
Moritz has wondered frequently if Melchior hasn’t said it because he doesn’t
feel it. Maybe Moritz is just projecting all his feelings onto Melchior’s
actions. Maybe Melchior doesn’t really like him at all, and he’s just sticking
around until he can find someone else to fuck. Moritz shakes his head, trying
to clear his thoughts.  Melchior  asked  him  out, and they were being
secretive because of  Moritz . Although that really wasn’t Moritz’s fault. Mr.
and Mrs. Stiefel were very homophobic and he couldn’t afford to come out, for
his own safety and well-being. And if Melchior wanted to find someone else to
fuck, he could’ve done it by now. So it was clear that Melchior  did  feel it.
So why didn’t he say it?
Melchior smiled across the horseshoe of their classroom and Moritz grimaced
back. History always made him anxious, so he hoped that Melchior assumed the
grimace was because of that, and not because of him. It wasn’t totally because
of him, but Moritz knew Melchior could be incredibly paranoid. Moritz turned
back towards the board, desperately trying to pay attention to whatever they
were learning about World War I instead of drifting off into his head.
Melchior turned back to his notebook. He’d never admit it, but those little
moments when Moritz didn’t smile back, or when he pulled his hand away, or when
he whispered, “Not now,” into Melchior’s ear in deserted staircases, all these
little things that felt like rejection, terrified him. Melchior thought he'd
managed to figure out almost everything in his life:  school, his parents, his
friends, religion, his future… everything except Moritz. Moritz liked him,
right? Moritz had proved time and time again that he likes the physical side,
but he was always fidgety and nervous around Melchior. With all the messed up
things in Melchior’s head, he wasn't sure anyone besides Moritz would want to
be his best friend, let alone date him. In moments like those, he got the heart
stopping fear that maybe Moritz didn't want to deal with him or do anything
with him anymore. He knew Moritz would say it’s the ADHD or the anxiety, but he
always worried that maybe it was just him.
“You’re worrying too much.” Melchior thought it was just his conscience or
guardian angel or whatever it was that consoled you and kept you from letting
your mental issues kill you until the voice said, “He clearly loves you as much
as you love him.” He turned around and saw Thea Rilow’s chin resting on her
palm, elbow on her desk, gaze in the same direction as Melchior’s. Unlike her
brother, Thea’s eyes were a kind hazel, and the tips of her blonde hair were
dyed red. Just like her brother, she was smart (she was supposed to be a
freshman but skipped kindergarten), tall, thin, calculating, hauntingly
beautiful, and entirely too perceptive for her own good (and often, other
people’s).
“I don’t–I’m not–I wasn’t worrying about Moritz,” the usually composed Melchior
spluttered.
“Really? Because you smiled at him and he didn’t smile back and then you got
that worried Melchior look on your face.” Thea smirked and raised her eyebrows
and Melchior tried very hard not to think about the crush he’d had on Thea in
third grade, or the thing he’d had with Hänschen the previous year.
“Shut up Thea,” he said, attempting to refocus on his history notes.
 
The lunch bell rang and Thea made her way into the lunch line. Martha came up
behind her, tapping her gently on the shoulder. Thea turned around and her
permanent case of resting bitch face melted into a smile that lit up her whole
face. She held Martha’s gaze and resisted the urge that came over every cell in
her body to pull the other girl into a tight hug. If Thea had been someone
else, or perhaps if she’d been a little less self aware, she would’ve hugged
Martha. Thea knew girls could hug and no one would say or assume anything (an
assumption in itself), but she was Thea Rilow. She was just as well known as
her brother for being cold, if not even more so. At least Hänschen got around
sexually. Thea was just cold. Nobody went home with Thea, not unless everyone
was hanging out at the Rilow house (rare, but it happened). So Thea held
herself back.
“So how was your morning?” Thea asked coolly, turning around to pick up a tray
and sliding a salad onto it.
“Alright,” Martha said, slipping a candy bar onto Thea’s tray, “Sucks that we
don’t have any classes together.”
“It does.” She put the candy bar back on the counter. At the look on Martha’s
face she said, “I have to watch my figure.”
Martha drew closer to Thea and whispered in her ear, “Your figure is absolutely
perfect.”
“And why would I settle for anything less?”
“At least split a cookie with me.” Martha made a puppy dog face and the little
resolve Thea had left melted.
“Fine.” She took the cookie and walked over to the register to pay for her
lunch before Martha could talk her into anything else. “You know,” she said,
“You should really become a bank robber. You’d be able to sweet talk anyone
into anything.”
“Not anyone,” Martha said, putting her wallet away. “Just you.” She smirked and
passed Thea on her way to their usual table.
Only Hänschen and Ernst were already at their table, and were taking advantage
of their relative privacy to make out. Martha cleared her throat as she sat
down. When nothing happened Thea called, “Hey asshole!”
Hänschen drew back and turned to his sister while Ernst turned the same color
as the tomato soup he was staring intently into. “What Thea?”
“If you don’t let go of Ernst for at least five minutes he’s going to suffocate
or starve. It’s been  two days . Let him breathe.” Hänschen smirked and Ernst
slowly ate his soup. Martha tried not to laugh.
Wendla and Ilse sat down. “Ernst, you trying to see your future in that soup?”
Ilse laughed.
“Thea just finished telling Hänschen off for trying to suck the life out of
Ernst via mouth,” Martha informed the two newcomers.
“So naturally Hänschen looks smug and Ernst is embarrassed,” Wendla said.
“Classic,” Ilse laughed.
“What’s classic?” Melchior asked as he walked over to their table, arm around
Moritz’s shoulders.
“Hänschen trying to kiss Ernst’s soul out.”
“Of course,” said Georg, arriving with Anna and Otto, “It’s been two days and
Hänschen’s already trying to turn Ernst into his little sex toy.”
“Hey, I have a great idea, how about we talk about your sex life Georg?” When
Georg was silent and his face crawled into a snarl, Hänschen laughed openly,
and so Melchior, Thea, and Ilse. The other six held back snickers, including
Ernst. “Also,” he wrapped his arm around Ernst’s shoulders, “If we could avoid
objectifying my boyfriend, that would be great.” Ernst blushed into Hänschen’s
shoulder.
“Booo!” Ilse, Anna, Otto, and Georg took some fries off their plates and threw
them at Hänschen. “That’s just too much,” Ilse added, picking fries off
Wendla’s plate to feed herself. Wendla playfully batted her hand away, and Thea
realized she was watching them too intently. She didn’t like them, but she
didn’t need Ilse or Wendla or Martha to get the wrong idea, so she looked at
her brother.
“Why do you have that stupid look on your face?” Thea spat at him, more looking
for something to do than because she actually had anything to say.
Hänschen was about to say something good, something like, “Fortunately for me
it’s a stupid look and not how I look all the time,” when he saw Melchior and
Moritz’s posture stiffen. “What?”
“Here comes trouble,” Melchior muttered, watching someone walk towards them.
Everyone else at the table could nonchalantly look, but it would look too
suspicious if Hänschen and Ernst turned completely around too, so who was
coming was an entirely unwelcome surprise to them.
“Well isn’t this cute.” Hänschen’s face went white as he recognized the voice
behind him and Ernst’s hands clenched into fists. “The wild one has finally
been domesticated, and by innocent little Robel.”
“Keep walking Bobby,” Melchior spat at him.
“Always so quick to defend him, aren’t you Gabor? Maybe Stiefel better watch
out.” Melchior started to rise from his seat, but Martha and Moritz yanked him
back down. “Anyway I just wanted to give my good wishes to the happy couple and
remind Ernst that if he ever needs advice on how to make Rilow scream, I have a
very vivid, recent memory.” Hänschen’s eye started twitching and Ernst’s
knuckles went bone-white. Bobby smirked and walked away.
“I hate him so much,” Hänschen growled through his teeth. His hand slipped down
to Ernst’s waist and he pulled him closer. “I mean it’s been two days and he’s
already trying to drive me and Ernst apart.” There was a pause and he
whispered, “I’m sorry Ernst.” Ernst rubbed Hänschen’s thigh gently and
reassuringly.
“To be fair, you slept with Bobby three days ago,” Otto said, “But yeah, he’s
an asshole.”
“The worst,” Ilse, Wendla, and Melchior said. They looked at each other and
laughed.
“I guess we know who else hooked up with him.” Thea smirked and raised an
eyebrow while Ilse, Wendla, and Melchior suddenly were too enrapt in their
lunches to respond. Martha’s hand found Thea’s under the table and squeezed it.
Thea smiled, a look she hoped would be passed off as part of her vindictive
sense of humor.
 
Thirty minutes, too many sex jokes, and one incident of juice shooting out of
Georg’s nose later the bell rang for sixth period class. Everyone except Thea
and Martha groaned, because this was the one free period they shared all week.
As everyone else stood up and shuffled off to class, Martha whispered in Thea’s
ear, “You know my mom’s away this weekend.”
“Really?” Thea said, squeezing Martha’s hand under the table before she stood
up to clear her tray.
“Really. I was thinking you could come over and we could talk…”
“I’m grounded.”
“Oh?” Martha dumped the garbage on her tray into the trash and put her tray on
top of the stack. “What for?”
“Not sure but I think I called my dad an asshole in a fight yesterday. So,
grounded.”
“Not always the wisest move.” Martha playfully bumped her shoulders against
Thea’s. “So I guess we can’t have that talk. It’s a shame really,” Martha
started ambling down the hallways and so did her words, “I didn’t just have
talking in mind, but now we can’t.”
“Hey, I didn’t say I was averse to sneaking out!”
“What if I’m averse to you sneaking out?”
“You have to stop trying to save me from myself Martha. Haven’t we Rilows
already proved we’re beyond saving?”
“Nobody’s beyond saving and you and your brother need it more than most.” Thea
rolled her eyes. “C’mon, he’s got Ernst, you need somebody.”
“I have you.”
“And no one knows.”
“I have to obey my father sometimes Martha. But if you let me keep it a secret,
sneaking out will be less common because he’ll let me go out without asking
questions.” Martha rolled her eyes. “Just this once, let me sneak out.”
Martha looked at her and nodded. “If you get caught, it’s your fault Rilow.”
“I’ll never get caught. Besides, you mentioned something about a talk and
something else, and I think it’d be worth it even if I did get caught.”
“Oh yeah, the talk will definitely be worth the shit you’ll take from your
dad.”
“Funny,” Thea said, turning a corner into a deserted hallway. “I meant the
something else.”
“Well I could tell you about it,” Martha said, drifting towards the wall and
grabbing Thea’s hands to pull her towards her. “Or I could give you a sneak
preview.”
Thea nodded enthusiastically. “I would definitely appreciate that.”
“Anyone ever tell you you talk too much?”
“Only my brother, every day of my life.”
“That wasn’t an invitation to keep talking darling.”
“Fine,” Thea said, moving forward as she put her hands on Martha’s jawline and
she pressed her lips onto Martha’s. Martha relaxed into Thea’s touch and moved
her hands to Thea’s hair, running her fingers down the entire short length of
it. Thea opened her mouth at the feel of Martha’s fingertips on her scalp and
pushed her tongue onto Martha’s lips, slowly prying her mouth open until their
tongues brushed. Martha groaned and Thea dragged her hands off of Martha’s face
and down the front of her body, slipping her hands to the sides as she reached
Martha’s waistband. Her hands rested on Martha’s hips as Martha pulled her in
tighter, barely any space remaining between the two girls. Thea’s fingers
teased the bottom of Martha’s shirt, fingers beginning to brush the skin of
Martha’s stomach. One of Martha’s hands closed around Thea’s wrist.
“Not here,” she whispered into Thea’s ear.
Thea nodded. “We have to save something for tonight, don’t we?”
Martha groaned. “The whole point of this was for you to not come over.”
“Bad argument,” Thea said as the bell rang for the end of the period.
 
Something that sucked in Melchior’s life: Having seventh period free and eighth
period class.
Something that rocked in Melchior’s life: Moritz also having seventh period
free.
Another thing that rocked in Melchior’s life: the couches in the part of the
library no one ever came into.
Melchior was sitting on one of the couches, legs stretched across the cushions,
Moritz sitting on his lap, facing away from the couch. Melchior was reading
some article or other about spies during World War II and was just starting a
section on Josephine Baker when he remembered Moritz’s grimace during history
that morning. “Were you okay during history this morning?”
“Yeah,” Moritz said calmly, “Just worried about midterms.”
“You’ll be fine.” Melchior kissed Moritz’s hand, but Moritz laughed.
“I hope so. What are we doing this weekend?”
“Well,” Melchior said, “A little bit of this I hope,” and he leaned upwards and
pressed a kiss onto Moritz’s lips. When Moritz kissed him back, Melchior dug
his fingers into his boyfriend’s hair, but just as he went to push his tongue
into Moritz’s mouth, Moritz pulled back.
“Melchior!” he whispered, trying to flatten his hair, “We’re in the school
library!”
“So?” Melchior leaned forward again, hands pressing into Moritz’s sides with a
heat that usually would have melted Moritz into a puddle. Moritz moved away
from his touch.
“It’s a public space.”
“There’s no one here Moritz.” Melchior wasn’t  trying  to be an asshole, he was
just trying to point out the facts. But when Melchior and Hänschen pointed out
facts, it very frequently seemed like they were just being assholes.
“Not now Melchior,” Moritz said firmly, moving to sit on the upper edge of the
couch and Melchior deflated. Again and again and again he tried to show that he
loved Moritz, and again and again and again Moritz shut down. If Moritz didn’t
want to touch Melchior and kiss Melchior and fuck Melchior, Melchior wasn’t
sure what else Moritz would want from him.
“Are we still going to the museum tomorrow morning?” Melchior asked, trying to
fill the semi-awkward moment.
Moritz brightened a little and said, “Of course! Can we study for midterms
tonight?”
Melchior smiled. “Sure. You can pick my brain.”
“Everyone knows a man’s sexiest asset is his brain.” Moritz kissed him on the
head as the bell rang for eighth. “Go to class. I’ll see you in the hallway.”
Melchior walked off to class, scratching his head and wondering precisely how
his boyfriend’s mind worked.
 
Ernst hated waiting for Hänschen even more now. If he didn't have band, they
could go home and lock the door to Ernst’s bedroom… But it didn't matter,
because Hänschen had band. Fortunately, on Fridays Melchior had eighth period
too, so Moritz was in the hallway with Ernst. They were sitting there, talking
about not much and nothing very important anyway when Bobby Maler walked
through the hallway.
“Oh look,” he said dryly, “Robel’s already been ditched by Rilow. And by the
looks of it, he did it for Gabor. Are you two bonding over the fact that your
boyfriends ditched you for each other?”
Ernst was normally very level headed, but a flash of hot anger shot through his
body with Bobby’s words. He  knows  Bobby is just trying to get a rise out of
him, but the worries he doesn't want to voice seem to come out of Bobby’s mouth
every time he arrives. “Piss off Bobby.”
If Moritz hadn't been there to witness it, he never would've believed Ernst had
actually said it. Even being there, he wasn't sure Ernst had actually told
Bobby to piss off until he saw the look on Bobby’s face as he skunk away.
“Don't worry,” Moritz said, rubbing Ernst’s hand, “Melchior’s Hänschen phase is
so far over.”
“Still,” Ernst said, “What if one day we wake up and Hänschen doesn't want me
anymore?”
“Then Wendla will literally set him on fire.” Moritz laughed at the look on
Ernst’s face. “We've been placing bets on when you two would get together for
years now. It was only a matter of time.”
Whatever Ernst was going to say next was cut off by the bell. Moritz drifted
off to wait by Melchior's locker while Ernst stood up. He saw Hänschen coming
down the hallway and wondered if he should kiss him hello. He and Hänschen had
only been dating two days, but Hänschen was constantly covering Ernst with his
hands and his mouth. But what if it was too public, too much?
Before Ernst could decide, Hänschen pulled him into a kiss. Ernst didn't care
that there were people watching or that someone was whistling, and he loved
that Hänschen didn't seem to care either. It wasn't until Ilse said, “Ernst!”
at the same time as Thea called, “Hey genius!” that the two broke apart, Ernst
turning red and looking at the ground and Hänschen smiling proudly.
“As much as I'm sure we’d all love to watch you two lick each other’s tonsils,
I'm sure we’d rather you come with us to Pinkberry.”
“It's your girlfriend behind the counter, not mine Ilse,” Hänschen said,
putting his arm around Ernst, “And I have better plans for my mouth than frozen
yogurt.”
Ernst blushed even redder but whispered, “We have all weekend for that. Let me
buy you some yogurt.”
Hänschen looked into his boyfriend’s pleading eyes and smiled. “How can I
refuse an offer like that?” Ernst smiled and the group followed Ilse out of the
building and towards the Pinkberry, Hänschen and Ernst bringing up the rear.
“You know,” Ernst said, “for a minute I thought you actually weren't going to
come with us. I mean, you don't particularly like outings with our friends or
frozen yogurt.”
Hänschen blinked. “I like hanging out with our friends!” His hand brushed
Ernst’s thigh. “I just like hanging out with you a little more.”
Ernst's fading blush returned as a rosy pink. “That aside, I didn't think you'd
be willing to eat something as caloric as froyo.”
“It's my sister who counts every calorie that goes into her mouth, not me. You
should know better. Eating is my fourth favorite thing to do with my mouth.”
Completely unaware of the subtext, Ernst asked, “What are the other three?”
Hänschen smirked. “One is talking, one involves at least one other mouth, and
the last one I'd rather show you than tell you about. But that should wait
until we’re in private.” More color rushed into Ernst’s face.
“Oh.” Ernst's heart was racing and he didn’t look at Hänschen because he was
afraid he'd jump his boyfriend right on the avenue. He followed his friends
into the Pinkberry, his thoughts still on Hänschen spread out on his bed.
 
Ilse walked up to the counter and called, “What do I have to do to get some
service around here?”
Wendla turned around and smiled. “That only works if I don’t recognize your
voice.” She leaned forward and gave Ilse a short kiss.
“Hey,” Ilse said, “About the talk I wanted to have…”
“Yeah?”
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
Wendla looked and little worried and scratched her neck. She shook her head and
half-smiled. “No, no, we should. Talking is important. And…” She trailed off,
looking at her feet.
“And what?” Ilse asked softly so none of their nosy friends could hear.
Wendla looked up at her girlfriend with a sly smile. “And I’ve been thinking
about it too. A lot”
Ilse’s eyes widened and she smiled, but she didn’t say what she was thinking.
Instead she said, “So you’ll meet me at my house after work and we’ll get in
the car?”
“Yeah,” said Wendla, “But if you or one of the others don't order something
else, I’m going to have to kick you out.”
“Can I have my usual?”
Wendla shook her head and walked over to the yogurt machine, picking up a
medium cup and pouring cake batter frozen yogurt into it. “If you keep visiting
me every Friday you’re going to spend more money on froyo than anything else in
your life.”
“Is that a problem? I’m supporting my girlfriend.”
Wendla sprinkled chocolate chips and gummy bears over the yogurt. “You don’t
need to support me. And it’ll be a problem when your favorite jeans don’t fit
anymore.”
“Will you love me even when I’m fat from too much froyo?”
Wendla kissed Ilse and out the yogurt on the counter. “I’ll love you through
practically anything.”
“Practically?” Ilse asked, pulling out her wallet and handing Wendla the exact
change.
“Well if you murdered me I think I’d stop loving you.”
“But if I became a bank robber…?”
“I’d be the Bonnie to your Clyde.”
Ilse whined in protest, picking up her yogurt. “I’m always the guy.”
“Not true. I’m definitely Romeo.”
“Great, so I’m a little princess who’s so afraid of her parents that I pretend
to die and later kill myself when you die.”
“But remember, Romeo was in love with someone else in the beginning.”
“That’s right! I forgot about your middle school fling with Melchior.
“Better than you at homecoming with your mouth all over Bobby Maler.”
“Hey! You hooked up with him two days earlier!”
Melchior cleared his throat behind Ilse. “If you two are done with your cute
banter, I’m supposed to split some froyo with my boyfriend.”
“Melchior must feel left out! He hooked up with Bobby too!” Ilse laughed.
Melchior grimaced. “Louder, please, I think some people in the next county
didn’t hear you. Now if I may?”
Ilse kissed Wendla on the cheek and drifted off to grab a table for her and her
friends.
 
Everyone settled around the table, Ilse staring longingly behind the counter.
“Ilse!” Ernst called. “She’s at work sweetheart.”
Ilse sighed and turned around. “I know. It’s just…”
“Don’t worry, Wendla will not find some other amazing, beautiful, talented girl
she loves while she’s working the counter at the local Pinkberry,” Ernst
reassured her.
Ilse smiled at Ernst. “Thanks buddy. I needed that. Although I’m not sure your
boyfriend appreciates that.” She gestured at Hänschen, who was scowling at the
air between Ilse and Ernst.
“If you two want to start making out sometime, just warn me,” Hänschen said
sarcastically.
Ernst rolled his eyes and Ilse laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous Hänsi,” Ernst
said, “I don’t even like girls. Here, have some froyo.” Before Hänschen could
respond, Ernst shoved a spoonful of frozen yogurt into Hänschen’s mouth. “So
Ilse and Wendla and me and Hänschen are leaving tonight. What are the rest of
you doing?”
“Studying,” Melchior and Moritz said.
“Right…” Anna said, looking at the two of them. “‘Studying.’ That’s what the
kids are calling it these days.” Melchior scowled at her while everyone else
laughed.
“Funny, but we actually are studying,” Moritz said, and everyone nodded.
Midterms were coming up and tests made Moritz very anxious. It was possible
that he and Melchior were actually studying. It just wasn’t very likely
“Thea and I are hanging out,” Martha added. Thea bumped her leg under the
table, but it was too late for Martha to realize her mistake.
“Thea’s grounded,” Hänschen said, refocusing on the conversation.
“And?” the look Thea threw her brother was so full of challenge and
determination that several of the people around the table would’ve melted under
it, but Hänschen had over fourteen years of experience with that look.
Unfazed, Hänschen shrugged. “It’s your funeral,” he said, before scooping more
frozen yogurt into his mouth.
“What about you guys?” Anna looked at Otto and Georg, who shrugged.
“Video games probably.” The two boys blushed at the simultaneous response, and
Hänschen laughed.
“Seriously, when are you two going to get together?” They both turned redder
and stuttered a little.
“I don’t even like guys,” Otto finally managed to say. “I’m straight Hänschen.
No matter what your crazy theories say, not  everyone  is bisexual.”
“You’ve never seen a man and thought, ‘Oh damn that guy is really hot. So hot
that, if I was a girl, I’d have sex with him’? Or maybe even gotten a little,
just a little, turned on by some shirtless guy?” Otto’s eyes widened a little
and he turned red, but before he could protest, Hänschen said, “And I know
you’ll say this isn’t fair, because I’m not posing the same kind of question to
any gay men or straight women or gay women, so I will. Starting with gay men.”
He turned to Ernst and said, “Ernst, the same question but women.”
More coolly than anyone could have predicted, Ernst said, “Otto and I, and
everyone else for that matter, have the right to not incriminate ourselves.”
“What makes you think I’d like Otto anyway?” Georg asked.
“What’s wrong with Otto?” Otto asked, and everyone laughed. Ernst checked his
watch.
“What time’s our train?” he asked Hänschen.
“5:30.”
“We should go pack. It’s already four.”
“Train?” Ilse asked.
“Yes, because unlike you, dear Ilse, neither Ernst nor myself is sixteen, so we
cannot drive. So we’re taking the train into the city tonight.” With that very
unceremonious goodbye, Hänschen stood up and walked over to the garbage can,
then looked expectantly at Ernst.
“Bye guys!” Ernst said, standing up and clearing his bowl into the trash. While
all their friends were still clearly watching, Hänschen pulled Ernst into a
kiss. “See you guys Monday!” he called as his boyfriend dragged him out of the
Pinkberry. The rest of their friends watched through the window as Hänschen
pulled Ernst into another kiss on the sidewalk. The two seemed to fit perfectly
into each other until Ernst leaned back and dragged his boyfriend off towards
their houses.
“It’s a shame,” Georg said, turning back to his frozen yogurt. “I really liked
hanging out with Hänschen.”
“Why the past tense?” Anna asked.
“Well when he leaves Ernst for whichever ridiculous freshman catches his eye
next month we won’t be able to hang out with him anymore,” Georg said and Otto
nodded in agreement.
“You guys are so negative!” Martha said. “Maybe Ernst will break up with
Hänschen.”
“I give it a week until Hänschen dumps him and we have to go console Ernst,”
Georg said.
“You’re all being assholes,” said Ilse, “Can’t you just be happy that they’re
happy?”
“You know as well as the rest of us that where Hänschen is involved happiness
doesn’t last too long. He blows through people like Melchior blows through pens
or like you blow through sketchbooks. We’re just being realistic.”
“How about,” Thea started and everyone turned to her, almost having forgotten
she was at the table, “we stop speculating on a relationship we know nothing
about and let them be happy while they are?”
Georg laughed. “Are Rilows programmed for happiness?”
Thea stood up. “As much as I’d love to stay here and hear you guys talk shit
about me and my brother, I have to leave. See you Monday. Have a good weekend.”
No one believed that she actually meant it as she walked out of the Pinkberry.
“Me too. Bye guys.” No one questioned as Martha hurried out of the Pinkberry
and followed Thea, even though her house was in the opposite direction.
“You got a death wish or something?” Melchior asked Georg as he hit the back of
his head.
“Ow! What the fuck?”
“Could ask you the same you idiot,” said Ilse.
“You really want to be on the Rilows’ bad sides?” asked Moritz.
“I don’t understand. What did I do wrong?” Georg asked.
“Whatever,” said Melchior, “You wanna go Moritz?” Moritz nodded and they left
the Pinkberry, calling, “Have a good weekend!” over their shoulders.
“My mom’s here. You guys want a lift?” Otto asked Anna and Georg.
Anna nodded and Georg yelled, “Shotgun!” Anna and Otto exchanged a secret
smirk, although not secret enough that Ilse didn’t notice it. The door jangled
closed and Ilse was, for the second time in two weeks, alone in the Pinkberry.
She leaned back in her chair and stretched her back and arms. When she noticed
some senior guys checking her out, she shook her head and stood up. Ilse waited
patiently while Wendla served someone before kissing her girlfriend.
“See you at your house at six?” Ilse asked.
“Yup. And then it’s just you, me, and your mom’s car for a whole weekend.”
Ilse smiled before turning away from the counter, slipping in her earbuds as
she walked towards her house.
 
Martha grabbed Thea’s elbow right before she rounded the corner onto her block.
Thea cursed herself as she relaxed into Martha’s touch. She was Thea fucking
Rilow. As her friends had so kindly pointed out, time and time again, Rilows
didn’t have emotions.
“Are you alright?” Martha almost whispered.
Thea scoffed. “My friends just spent five minutes ridiculing my brother, I‘m
grounded, everyone at school thinks I’m a cold, uptight bitch, and I’m not
allowed to be gay, so yeah, I’m fine.” Everyone was always surprised at how,
even when they were down and almost out, the Rilows could both spit venom like
snakes. Thea tried to walk away, but Martha grabbed her other arm.
“It was a stupid question alright? I just want to help you.”
Thea swallowed hard. “You should go.”
Martha stepped back, eyes filled with shock. “What?”
“We all know I’m just as cold-hearted as my brother, more probably, because at
least he fucks random guys at sketchy parties. I’m just going to break your
heart, so you might as well move on now. Don’t let me stop you from your real
happy ending just because I won’t get one.” Thea Rilow didn’t cry. Not the time
Hänschen threw her off the top bunk and she broke her ankle, not the time her
father screamed at her for kissing Anna as a joke when they were all still too
young to know what any of it meant, not the time everyone else had dates to the
middle school dance––Wendla and Melchior, Ilse and Otto, Hänschen and Martha,
Anna and Georg, even Ernst had managed to convince Moritz, who hated school
events, to go with him––not even the time Anna had turned her down because she
was straight. Standing on the sidewalk, staring at the girl she loved more than
anyone else and confronting her horrible,  real  destiny, Thea Rilow thought
maybe all the times she hadn’t cried were catching up to her. She turned away
from Martha. “Just cut your losses now and go.”
Thea expected to hear softly retreating footsteps, or maybe even a soft, “Fuck
you,” like the one Thea had heard Martha throw at Moritz after he kissed her
and then told her he liked Melchior. She braced herself for the sounds of
running away and crying. What Thea was totally unprepared for was a soft hand
on her shoulder and the way she leaned backwards into Martha’s hand.  Damn it .
“Everyone deserves a happy ending Thea.”
“Even me?” she sniffled slightly, back still to Martha.
“Especially you,” Martha said, “You’re an absolute sweetheart, despite what you
might try to tell other people. You’ve had a lot of sadness in your life, and a
lot more struggle than people probably give you credit for.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re stuck with me,” Thea said, still refusing to turn
around.
“I’m not stuck with you. I love you.” Thea turned around, towering over the
other girl but still looking broken. “And I know we’re just a high school
romance, so I don’t expect some big happy ending, but we shouldn’t break up
just because we will some day. I’m happiest when I’m with you, and that’s not
going to change any time soon. So please, let me stay.”
Thea took Martha’s hand. “I will Martha, if you will stay through my
ridiculousness.”
Martha kissed her on the cheek. “I will.”
Thea laughed. “That sounds ominously like a vow.”
“I have to get home,” Martha said, “But when will I see you?”
“Depends on when I can sneak out. Your mom’s away all weekend?”
“Yup. So you can just ring the bell and I’ll be home.”
“See you later.” Thea squeezed Martha’s hand and then turned and started
walking briskly down the block. Martha blinked and her girlfriend was gone.
 
Hänschen didn’t want to stop kissing Ernst, but he also wanted his father to
let him go on the trip this weekend. So, reluctantly, Hänschen drew back from
his boyfriend. “Go pack,” he said, “I’ll be over in ten minutes and then we can
get to the train.”
Ernst nodded and smiled before skipping up to his house. Hänschen turned and
walked into his house, silently passing up to his room. A few minutes later he
heard the front door open and then slam shut, and the hurried footsteps up the
stairs told him his sister was home. Before he could register what had
happened, Thea was collapsed on his bed. “Who invited you in here?”
“Shut up,” Thea whispered angrily, but Hänschen could see the tear tracks on
her cheeks. He sat down next to her head.
“What’s wrong?”
She turned to him, eyes big and watery. “Do you ever feel like maybe we’re not
programmed for happiness?”
Hänschen let out a long sigh. “So after we left, everyone was talking about me
and Ernst and whether or not I’m going to break Ernst’s heart, huh? Well little
sister,” Hänschen pushed the hair out of Thea’s eyes, “I think everyone
deserves a happy ending.”
Thea smiled, eyes still full of tears. “That’s what Martha said.”
“Oh,” Hänschen said, a grin spreading as his voice took on a mocking tone, “How
is Martha?”
“Don’t be an ass,” Thea said, smacking him playfully.
“You’re not as secretive as you think sis. At least, not to me.”
Thea sighed heavily. “Can you believe Mom and Dad cancelled their plans this
weekend just to make sure I didn’t leave the house?”
“Is that what he told you?” Hänschen laughed. “Dad has to go to a business
conference in town this weekend. It was scheduled at the last minute.” He
laughed again bitterly. “I can’t believe he tried to use this to control you.
Dad’ll barely even be here Thea.” He kissed her forehead. “Don’t get caught
sneaking out this weekend. You’re not allowed to be in trouble when I’m not
here.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Thea laughed as Hänschen stood up to use the
bathroom.
Ernst was shoving clothes into his bag as fast as he could. Slacks, a blazer,
button downs, ties, pajamas, boxers, socks. His mother knocked on his door
softly.
“What?” Ernst said and then to himself, “What did I do with my phone?”
“Do you need anything sweetie? Soap, a toothbrush, condoms?”
Ernst stopped in his tracks and turned to face his mother, absolutely
bewildered. “Mom!”
Mrs. Robel put her hands in the air. “I’m just asking! What kind of mother
would I be if I didn’t help you be safe?”
“Mom! I’m not going to have sex this weekend!” Ernst zipped his bag and
continued the frantic search for his phone.
“You say that now, but you and I both know what Hänschen’s like, and we both
know how much you like Hänschen, and I just don’t want you getting hurt.”
Ernst found his phone under his bed and texted Hänschen that he was ready to
go.
“Honestly, Mom, I can handle myself. Not that I’ll need to this weekend.” Ernst
walked to the stairs before saying over his shoulder, “Besides, if you’re right
he’ll be prepared.” Before anyone could process what Ernst had said, he was
rushing out of the house.
Hänschen was leaning on a cab when Ernst got outside. “Is this for us?” Ernst
asked.
“Perks of Daddy paying to get rid of you for a weekend: transportation costs
are entirely covered. Shall we?”Hänschen responded, opening the door of the
cab. Ernst scrambled inside and Hänschen followed him, shutting the door before
the cab sped towards the train station.
“So why is your dad paying for all this?” Ernst asked, looking out the window.
He hated to admit it, and he hated talking about it, but Ernst knew that most
of his friends were better off than he was and everyone knew that the Rilows
had a lot of money (why they stayed in this small town was a total mystery to
everyone). Ernst felt bad that this first date of legendary proportions was
being paid for entirely by his boyfriend.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Hänschen asked. “My mom originally planned this trip for
me and Thea, just as a way to get away from Dad for a weekend. Then we started
dating, and I tried my best to get Thea to agree not to go. Like the little
snot she is, she wasn’t budging but then she got grounded and it was too late
to cancel the trip.”
Ernst breathed a sigh of relief. This wasn’t an effort to spoil him. He was
just a replacement for Thea. “So I’m just a replacement for your sister?”
Hänschen laughed. “A nicer replacement.” He leaned towards Ernst. “A more
kissable replacement.” Hänschen pulled Ernst into a long, deep kiss. “A more
fuckable replacement.” One of Hänschen’s hands strayed down to Ernst’s thigh
and squeezed, which caused Ernst to make a squeak that Hänschen absolutely
loved, and he moved to pull Ernst in closer, but he found his boyfriend’s hand
was pushing him back.
“About that,” Ernst said, “We’re not going to...right?”
Hänschen withdrew his hand from his boyfriend’s lap and sat forward. “Hey,” he
said, looking into Ernst’s eyes, “I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want. Do you
understand me?”
“I know,” Ernst said, “But what about things I do want but I’m scared of?”
Hänschen tilted his head to the side, looking oddly catlike. “You mean you want
to have sex, but you’re scared?”
Ernst nodded. “I-I really like you Hänschen and you’re also incredibly hot.”
Hänschen let out a small laugh at the praise. “And I do want to… just, just not
yet. It’s our first real date. I don’t… I haven’t… I know you’ve done this
before and I’m completely lost. It’s like… like you’re the senior quarterback
and I’m some freshman who’s never put on the equipment, never even passed a
football around with his friends.”
“Except,” Hänschen said, smirking, “I’m only the guy screwing the senior
quarterback in secret.”
“Really?” Ernst blushed at the mental image, but was also interested in this
kind of gossip. Hänschen nodded.
“Well, at the beginning of the year. And then there was you.”
“Then there was those three girls you met at homecoming, then the two swimmers,
then Bobby, then me,” Ernst corrected him and Hänschen looked genuinely pained.

 “Why do you have to call me on my shit like that?”
“Because,” Ernst kissed him on the nose, “You get all sensitive when people
call you on your shit, and I like sensitive Hänschen.” Hänschen grimaced, but
when Ernst kissed him again, he smiled.
The cab stopped. “Let’s go. Our train’s in three minutes.” Hänschen kissed
Ernst before climbing out of the cab and rushing up to the platform. Ernst
followed three steps behind him.
 
Melchior's bedroom wasn't really a bedroom. The entire basement of his house
was his to live in, complete with queen size bed, mini fridge, and a huge desk
covered in fountain pens and half-written stories. The first time Moritz had
come down, he remembered marveling at the space. At the time, he had been
thirteen and Melchior had just started living in the basement. It seemed to
cool, the isolation and the sheer space. Now it was just another part of the
backdrop.
Moritz flopped onto Melchior’s bed, throwing his backpack onto the floor and
staring at the ceiling. “Fuck I don't want to study.”
“Then we don't have to.” Melchior dropped his bag and walked over to Moritz,
leaning over him before swiftly straddling his boyfriend and kissing him
bruisingly. It had been four days since the two boys had been alone in private,
which meant it had been four days since they'd done anything more intimate than
brief kisses goodbye. Melchior was more than a little excited to finally have
some time alone with Moritz.
Melchior’s lips made his way down Moritz’s face and to his neck. Moritz sighed
contentedly and closed his eyes before a realization dawned on him and his eyes
flew open. He sat up, pushing Melchior off him.
“What?” Melchior looked scared and a little annoyed.
“No marks. My dad…”
“Okay. No marks. I promise.” Melchior leaned forward but Moritz turned away.
“What now?” Melchior sounded mostly exasperated, but Moritz knew Melchior was
also worried about him. Moritz didn’t start ever, but he also didn’t pull away
like this. Something was wrong.
“I just... “ Moritz stood up, looking for his backpack that he had thrown so
haphazardly onto the floor. “I actually need to study.”
Melchior blinked a few times, waiting for Moritz to say, “Just kidding! Come
here Melchi.” When no such request came he said, “Yeah, okay,” and stood up to
find his bag. He settled down next to Moritz on his bed, trying not to stare at
or think about his boyfriend as they prepared for their Latin midterm. For
almost two hours they sat there, no sound other than the turning of pages,
Moritz’s occasional questions, and Melchior’s crisp answers. He wasn’t  trying
to be mean, but if Moritz was just going to study and ask a few questions, he
could’ve gone home and texted Melchior. Melchior knew it wasn’t fair to force
Moritz to spend time at home, but he was sitting there and being just so
tantalizingly… Moritz. It wasn’t fair. Maybe the others, Wendla and Ilse and
Moritz and Ernst, could live like this, but Melchior needed someone (and he was
partial about it being Moritz) to touch him all the time. Why couldn’t his
boyfriend be more like Hänschen?
Melchior knew he wasn’t being fair, but he also wasn’t thinking rationally. It
might have only been four days, but Melchior was so incredibly sexually
frustrated, and he knew that, save for the two small brunette boys they were
dating, Hänschen would happily screw him into next week. Melchior shook his
head. Thinking like this wasn’t fair to Moritz. Melchior and Hänschen had been
ages ago. He hadn’t loved Hänschen. He loved Moritz. He just wished Moritz was
a little less afraid of people watching them and a little more willing to jump
into bed.
“So Hänschen and Ernst are cute together,” Melchior said, not sure what he
wanted Moritz to say but knowing that he needed to get them to talking about
themselves somehow.
“Yeah,” Moritz said, correcting one of his translations in red pen, “But I
don’t think we’re ever going to be able to speak to Ernst again.”
“How do you mean?” Melchior was watching Moritz, all pretenses of working on
his Latin abandoned.
“I mean,” Moritz said, still rifling through papers, “Hänschen seems to be
determined to always have his mouth on Ernst.”
“It’s cute,” Melchior argued, “And Ernst isn’t complaining.”
Moritz shrugged. “I’d be embarrassed. Being pushed up against every wall in the
school by your incredibly hot boyfriend? No thank you.”
“So you think Hänschen’s hot?” Melchior still didn’t know where this
conversation was going, but he knew he wanted to keep talking.
“Duh. But not as hot as you.” Moritz grinned and Melchior couldn’t help but
grin back. He didn’t deserve this unendingly sweet boy, especially when all
he’d been able to think about for the past five minutes was how to get him to
put down the Latin book and kiss Melchior.
Melchior’s prayers were answered a few minutes later, but not in a way even
vaguely resembling what he had hoped for. Moritz’s breathing was speeding up as
he scoured a dictionary for a single word that he could not find. He started
whimpering in a way that was distinctly distressed and in no way sexy, and when
Melchior looked up, Moritz’s hands were shaking.
“Moritz?”
Moritz looked up at Melchior, jaw trembling, hands shaking violently, breaths
coming shallowly.
“Moritz, drop the book.” When he didn’t, Melchior pried the book out of his
hands and looked at him. “Moritz!” He put his hands on Moritz’s shoulders.
“Moritz, it’s okay.” Moritz started rocking back and forth, lips still
trembling, breaths still shallow. “Moritz, I’m here.” Moritz nodded. “Moritz,
can I touch your back?” Moritz nodded again and Melchior moved to sit behind
Moritz and pulled him into his arms, Moritz’s back pressed against his chest.
“You’re okay Moritz.” Moritz nodded and closed his eyes, rocking back and
forth, Melchior’s arms wrapped around him.
Moritz’s breaths deepened and he began to rock more slowly until his breaths
were normal and he laid back into Melchior. “I’m sorry Melchi.”
“It’s not your fault Moritz.”
“Still...you don’t need this.”
“I need you.”
So close. So close to the three words Moritz needed with every fiber of his
being to hear Melchior say. It was  almost  good enough.
“What time is it?”
Melchior squirmed to pull out his phone. “6:45.”
“I should go.”
Melchior sighed and nodded. “Wouldn’t want Mr. Stiefel to get angry, would we?”
Moritz packed up his stuff and Melchior walked him up the stairs. It wasn’t
until they were at the front door that Mrs. Gabor called, “Melchi? Is that
you?”
“Yeah Ma I'm just walking Moritz out.”
She appeared in the entryway door. “No you're not. Have you seen how hard it's
snowing?”
The two boys looked out the window and saw snow was falling fast and thick.
“I'll call Mrs. Stiefel.”
“No, no, it's fine. I can walk home.”
“Moritz, you live a mile away. I'm sure your mother and father will be fine
with you staying here just for tonight. I'll go call.” She walked away and
Moritz dropped his bag before sliding down the wall to the floor.
“My dad’s going to kill me.”
Melchior slid down next to him and wrapped his arms around Moritz. “We were
studying and you can't control the weather. Your dad's irrational, but he's not
that  irrational.”
Moritz leaned into Melchior’s shoulder and whispered so quietly Melchior almost
didn't hear him, “Do you think your mom knows?”
Melchior tilted his head. He'd never actually considered this. “Well she knows
I like guys, but she didn't figure out me and Wendla or me and Hänschen. So
maybe?”
“We have to tell her.” Moritz never sounded as urgent as he did in that moment.
“We have to tell her and tell her not to say anything to my parents.”
“Mom! Can you come in here for a second?” Melchior called. Seconds later Mrs.
Gabor was back in the doorway. “Moritz and I have something to tell you.”
Moritz nodded, but it was clear that Melchior would have to vocalize this
alone. “Moritz and I are dating.”
Mrs. Gabor nodded. “I know.”
“You can't tell my parents,” Moritz pleaded.
“Is this really what you had to tell me? You boys really don't give me enough
credit. Of course I figured it out, and of course I wouldn't tell your parents
Moritz.”
Melchior and Moritz exchanged a look. “Did you know with other people?”
Melchior asked.
“No, but you told me about Hänschen. You asked me to wake you up when I got
home because you had to tell me something and I woke you up. You said, ‘Mom, I
had sex with Hänschen.’” Moritz laughed and Melchior turned red. “We talked
about it, but you didn't remember telling me, so I never brought it up.”
“Okay…” Melchior was clearly uncomfortable with the unclear amount of
information about his sex life that he had divulged to his mother. “Thanks for
being cool mom.”
She nodded. “You boys want dinner?”
They called for a pizza, and Moritz’s parents let him stay in order to protect
all parties involved. Moritz thanked Mrs. Gabor profusely before he and
Melchior retired to the basement. Melchior gave Moritz a change of pajamas and
they both crawled into bed. “Hey,” Melchior said, “It's only 9:30. Do you wanna
mess around?”
“Mess around?”Moritz said into his pillow. “That might be the single most
unerotic thing you've ever said.”
“So you don’t want to kiss me?”
Moritz turned over and looked into his boyfriend’s blue eyes. “Don’t be stupid
Melchi.” Melchior grinned, a show-stopping, dazzling, infuriatingly sexy smile
before he leaned in to kiss Moritz. Moritz knotted his fingers into Melchior’s
hair and pulled his face closer. Melchior pushed Moritz onto his back and
climbed over him, moving his mouth down Moritz’s neck. He had his hands on the
neck of Moritz’s pajama shirt when he looked up at Moritz, whose eyes were
closed and whose breathing was slowing instead of speeding up. Melchior
untangled himself from Moritz, who whined slightly in protest.
“You’re falling asleep Moritz. We always have the morning.” He clicked the
light off and wrapped his arms around Moritz. “Goodnight babe.”
“Goodnight Melchi,” Moritz muttered.
 
It was 6:00, and Ilse was sitting in her mom’s convertible texting Wendla.
Ilse: You ready?
Wendla: Two minutes please
Ilse: Oh you women take so long to get ready
Wendla: Haha. Getting my clothes
Ilse stayed in the car, contemplating the upcoming weekend. Two and a half days
in her mom’s convertible with Wendla. How amazing this weekend could be. But
first came the awkward talk they agreed they were going to have. But if that
turned out the way Ilse hoped it would, it would all be worth it.
Ilse was so lost in thought, contemplating all the ways that the conversation
could possibly go, the worst of which involved a break up, that she hardly
noticed Wendla flying out of her house in a way that was very contrasting to
the way Wendla usually moved. She threw her bag in the back seat of Ilse’s car
and hopped the door into the front before pulling Ilse into a long, deep kiss.
She leaned back, a wild light in her eyes that Ilse had never seen before.
“Whoa,” Ilse said, leaning back into the driver’s seat.
“Good whoa or bad whoa?” Wendla asked, buckling her seatbelt.
“Definitely good whoa,” Ilse said, starting the car and checking the road
before pulling out of the spot.
“This is going to be a great weekend!” Wendla smiled at Ilse, who nodded.
“It certainly is.”
They didn’t say much as Ilse got on the highway, but finally Wendla said, “Can
you close the roof?”
“Oh yeah, sorry.” Ilse pressed a button and the roof of the convertible closed.
“Why do you guys even have a convertible when it gets this cold in the winter?”
Ilse shrugged. “My mom likes it. We drive the car out to the beach house in the
summer and it just feels nicer to drive around without a roof out there.” She
was quiet for a minute before she said, “You should come out to the beach this
summer.”
“You, me, and your mom?” Wendla teased.
“Actually,” Ilse spoke very carefully, afraid of making Wendla uncomfortable or
nervous, “My mom is usually out with her friends or stuck in the city on
business so it’d just be you and me a lot of the time.”
There was silence. “Oh,” Wendla finally said, “That could be cool.”
Ilse took a deep breath to steel herself. It was now or have it hang over them
the whole weekend. Although if the outcome was one of the bad ones, Ilse might
not want the answer until later.
“So,” Ilse said, staring at the road on purpose, “Sex.”
“Yeah,” Wendla said, “Sex.”
“Thoughts? Feelings? Ideas? Questions?”
“You haven’t… with anyone… right?”
Ilse shook her head. “Well, not like  sex  sex. I’ve gotten to third with
someone else.”
Wendla blinked. “Oh.”
“It didn’t mean anything,” Ilse said, “It was back in my ninth grade party
phase and we were both really drunk.”
“Who?” Ilse shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Who Ilse? I have to know.”
Ilse sighed. “Moritz.”
If Wendla’s head had turned any faster, her neck would’ve snapped. “Don’t
joke.”
“Not joking. The first, and so far only, person I had oral with was freaking
Moritz Stiefel.”
Wendla laughed. When Ilse threw her a look like she was deranged she said,
“It’s funny! We were best friends and they were best friends and I dated
Melchior and you blew Moritz,” Ilse squirmed in her seat at the words, “and now
we’re dating and they’re dating ‘on the DL.’” Ilse laughed at the air quotes
around the last three words. As much as Melchior and Moritz didn’t want to
admit it, everyone knew they were dating.
“Okay, now that you know my story, what about you? What’s the farthest you’ve
gone with anyone?”
“Second with you and Melchior.”
Ilse nodded, unsure what to say next.
“Ilse?”
“Yeah?” Ilse looked over at Wendla for as long as she could afford to while
driving.
“I want to have sex with you.”
If Ilse hadn’t been half expecting it, or if she had a little less self
control, she would’ve slammed her foot on the brake or hand on the horn. As it
was, Ilse turned to Wendla for a little too long and Wendla said, “Ilse, the
road!” Ilse turned back to the road where nothing exciting was happening
anyway, but she didn’t want to make Wendla feel unsafe. Outside, it began to
snow.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“So… so you want to too?” Wendla furrowed her eyebrows.
Ilse looked at her like she was deranged. “Of course! I’m not insane.”
“Okay. Okay.” They were quiet before Wendla said, “Like… when though?”
“We're going to be all alone this weekend.” She paused, and when Wendla didn't
say anything either she added, “But that seems awfully soon.”
Wendla opened her mouth to say something before her phone chimed. She pulled it
out. “Martha asked if we’re there yet.”
“Of course we aren't! We've got another hour and a half to go.”
“She's saying something about a snowstorm.” Wendla looked at Ilse. “Radio?”
Ilse nodded and Wendla tuned to the weather channel. “And the city is advising
people to stay off the roads as sanitation tries to deal with the snow—” Ilse
clicked the radio off.
“We're going to find a motel.”
“What about the concert?”
“I'm not driving through this if the official advice is not to. If anything
happened to you because of me… I couldn't deal with that. So let's find a
motel.”
Wendla put her hand on Ilse’s, knowing not to be any more distracting than
that. Ilse slowly turned off the highway and they drove through the town before
Wendla saw a motel. They took their bags out of the back seat and ran inside,
being careful in the snow but also wanting to get inside as soon as possible.
“One room please,” Ilse said at the front desk.
Clacking away on the computer, the woman at the desk said, “Driven off the road
by the snow?” The girls nodded. “You’re not the first, and believe me you won’t
be the last. It’s going to snow very hard tonight.” She hit a key on the
keyboard, pulled two key cards out of a machine, and said, “You’re all set.
Have a good stay girls!”
Wendla took the key cards and read the room number. She and Ilse were silent in
the elevator, but when the door of their room closed, Ilse slammed her fist
against it and yelled, “Fuck!”
Wendla put her bag down and rushed back to her girlfriend, wrapping her arms
around Ilse’s waist and whispering into her ear, “It’ll be fine sweetheart.”
Ilse whipped herself out of Wendla’s grip and stalked into the room, dropping
her bag near Wendla’s. “We were going to go to the most epic concert and have
the most epic date in history and now we’re trapped in a freaking motel for the
night, possibly the whole weekend!” Ilse kicked the dresser, which resulted in
nothing more than an injured foot.
“Babe,” Wendla said from behind her, not daring to touch her yet. “Just because
we’re not going to the concert doesn’t mean we can’t have a great weekend.”
When Ilse didn’t say anything, she turned her around and put her hands on
Ilse’s shoulders. “And I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure Hänschen
and Ernst have us beat for best date so far.”
“Just because it’s their first date…”
“Nah, it’s because it’s just what Ernst has always dreamed of in every way.”
Ilse stuck her lip out in her signature pout. “Well if that’s what you think…”
Wendla laughed. “You’re still the best girlfriend in the world. And this date
still would have been epic. But maybe it still can be.”
“How?”
Wendla settled herself onto one of the beds in the room. “Weird that they gave
us two beds huh?”
“They probably assumed we were sisters or best friends or something.” Ilse
hadn’t missed the sudden subject change, and was going along with it just to
see where it went.
“Ridiculous.” Wendla leaned back on her elbows, shaking her head slightly.
“Heteronormativity is everywhere.” There was a pause. “Are you ever going to
finish your idea of how this date can still be epic?”
“Isn’t it clear?” Wendla bent her knees and opened her thighs a little. The
movement did not go unnoticed by Ilse.
“Maybe, but how about you spell it out for me?” Ilse leaned down over her
girlfriend, tantalizingly close.
“We can take the next step together.” Wendla pulled Ilse’s mouth down to hers.
“C’mon is that all you got Neumann?”
“You know it’s not.”
“Show me Ils.”
Ilse gladly welcomed the invitation, and quickly threw one leg over her
girlfriend, kneeling on either side of Wendla’s hips. Almost in sync, the two
girl wrapped their fingers into the other’s hair, Ilse tugging on Wendla’s long
brown curls and Wendla twirling Ilse’s short black and blue recently shredded
straight hair. As Ilse moved her mouth down Wendla’s neck, her hands took the
opposite position at Wendla’s hips, moving up towards the girl’s head. Wendla
pulled back as Ilse’s fingers brushed the bottom of her rib cage.
“Ilse?”
“Yeah babe?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” Ilse’s lips met Wendla’s again as she pulled at the bottom of
her shirt. With a winning grin, Wendla pulled back enough to rid herself of her
shirt.
 
Thea hated her room. Everything about it was her father’s choice. The pink
walls and matching bedspread, the carpet that Thea couldn't describe other than
“very 70s,” the white wooden bookshelves, the seemingly hundreds of plush
unicorns were all chosen by Mr. Rilow. He'd argue that Thea had chosen
everything, which was true. Eight years ago. Thea didn't see how it was fair
that she had to live in a relic of the past just because her father couldn't
move on. She knew Hänschen was in a similar situation, but he hadn't changed as
much as she had. Hänschen was still fine with blue walls and sheets, his carpet
had been removed after he puked on it in fourth grade, his bookshelves were
still white, and he had never been one for dolls or stuffed animals. Possibly
the only embarrassing part of Hänschen's decor was the motorcycle print on the
comforter, but Thea figured when people were in Hänschen's room they weren't
focusing on the bedspread.
Thea hated being Hänschen's younger sister. Her brother had always been as
civil as older brothers are, and more kind lately as they both struggled
against their father’s iron grip. Hänschen wasn't the problem. It was his
reputation. People came to Thea to try to get set up with Hänschen, or because
they thought she would go down as easily as he did, or because they wanted a
threesome with the Rilow twins (“We’re not twins! And that's fucking incest!”
Thea had screamed at more people than she felt was reasonable.). All of it was
very tiring. She didn't like to deal with people, especially people who assumed
that because they knew her brother’s reputation that they knew the whole
family's story.
Thea hated being a Rilow. Her family was under-handed, manipulative, mean,
superficially flawless. Inside she was constantly breaking from her father's
rules and pressures she put on herself. Maybe all of her problems could be
solved if she could just cross out the Rilow that followed her name.
Only two and a half years to graduation. Five semesters. 900 days.  The
thoughts burned Thea’s mind. It felt so far away, the eventual escape from her
father’s iron grip.
Her phone rang and she picked up. “Hello?”
“You sound like you got hit by a bus,” Martha teased, but Thea heard the worry
in her voice, “I'm guessing you're not coming over tonight?”
“I'm fine. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“You know…. Everything.”
“Your dad?”
Martha paid too much attention for Thea to get away with half-truths, but Thea
appreciated it. “Yeah. I think it'll be easier to sneak out tomorrow night.
Sorry our legit sleepover plans got canceled.”
Martha laughed. “I'm not going to be mad at you for calling your asshole dad an
asshole.”
“At least you don't have to live through it.” Martha sighed heavily, and Thea
wondered if maybe sweet Martha had her own closet full of skeletons to share.
“You sound tired.”
“It's only 9:30.”
“The time doesn't stop you being tired, and it doesn't affect how much sleep
you got in the last week, which we both know wasn't enough. And you're going to
need to be rested up for tomorrow night.” Thea’s heart rate sped up. Contrary
to popular hope, Thea was not as experienced as her brother. The farthest she’d
gone with anyone had been as far as she and Martha had gone earlier that day.
Why she had decided to push it in a school hallway was a mystery even to her,
but then her brother had had sex with the world’s biggest asshole because a
sweet guy half rejected him and her father had threatened to kick her and
Hänschen out if they didn't pretend to be straight. Lack of logical thought
seemed to be hereditary in the Rilow family.
“Okay, I'll sleep. But it better be worth it.”
“It will be. Goodnight Thea.”
“Goodnight Martha.” Thea threw her phone onto her bedside table and collapsed
backwards onto her bed. It was quite early, but she was extremely tired and
there was nothing better to do. She shimmied out of her jeans and threw off her
plaid button down before extracting her bra from under her tank top. Thea
clicked her desk lamp off and burrowed under her covers, imagining this time
tomorrow when she would be doing the number one thing her father didn't want
her to be doing. Thea smiled to herself at the thought and closed her eyes.
 
The city was a whirlwind to Ernst. The hotel room, the dinner, the party (“No
Hänschen you can't steal alcohol from the bar!”), the boy: it all seemed too
good to be true. At eleven thirty when they finally got back to their room,
Ernst thought he could have passed out in his suit. That is, until Hänschen
pressed him up against the back of their suite door and kissed him so hard
Ernst felt pressure on his gums. “You look so good in that suit,” Hänschen
whispered into his ear, running his fingers down the front of Ernst's shirt,
“But I bet you'd look even better out of it.”
“Let's find out.” Ernst pulled on Hänschen's tie, loosening it and pushing it
over his head. Hänschen immediately got to work on the buttons on Ernst’s shirt
and pulled off his boyfriend's tie. Hänschen pulled back from Ernst to remove
his own shirt, and Ernst took the time to slowly shake off his suit jacket and
shirt. Hänschen watched him like a cat watches a mouse.
“Don't tease me Robel.”
“I thought you'd like it,” Ernst said shyly but playfully.
“I'd rather touch you until you go crazy than stand here watching you strip
until I lose my mind.” He proved his point by pulling Ernst in, their bare
torsos meeting as Ernst gasped at the full-body contact. He had recognized the
heat in his own groin from the second Hänschen had purred in his ear, but he
never would have expected Hänschen to be as hard as he was. Hänschen's fingers
traveled across Ernst’s back delicately. “Are you okay Ernst?”
Ernst nodded. “Just-just surprised. I don't think I've ever made…”
“You don't think you've ever made anyone hard Ernst?” Ernst nodded and Hänschen
laughed. “Have you looked at yourself?” He traced his hands over Ernst’s back
and chest as he talked. “You have insane muscles and that beautiful light in
your eyes. Your smile lights up whole rooms. You're beautiful.” He kissed
Ernst's lips. “Gorgeous.” He kissed his neck. “Insanely sexy.” He grabbed
Ernst’s ass and laughed at the little gasp that came out of Ernst’s mouth.
Hänschen slipped his hands around Ernst’s hips to rest on the top of his
thighs. He whispered in Ernst's ear, “Want some help with that uncontrollable
blood flow?”
Ernst's head jerked back and he looked at Hänschen, who immediately started
back pedaling. “Only if you want to! Like I said, no pressure, I just thought
you might… I don't know what I thought.” He sighed. “Sorry Ernst I'm not
exactly good at the whole dating—”
“Shh…” Ernst put a hand over Hänschen's mouth. “It wasn't anything like that. I
was just surprised. Of course it's okay. It's more than okay. It's—”
“You don't have to talk anymore,” Hänschen said, drifting towards Ernst's mouth
and making talking impossible anyway as he trapped Ernst’s lips in his own. He
led Ernst towards the bed in the center of the room, slowly undoing Ernst’s
slacks as they went. Ernst kicked off his shoes before lying down and Hänschen
straddled his hips, looking down at the most beautiful boy in the world.
“You're gorgeous Ernst.”
“You're one to talk.” Ernst was surprised his voice still worked as Hänschen's
mouth painted little red spots down his neck and his torso, stopping when he
reached the waistband of Ernst’s pants.
“You're sure this is okay Ernst?” Hänschen looked up at Ernst.
“Just like… Your hand right?”
“If that's what you want.”
“Well what did you have in mind?”
“I was thinking I could show you one of my favorite things to do with my
mouth,” Hänschen drawled.
“Oh,” Ernst said. “Yeah, sure. I mean, sounds amazing. No one’s ever…”
“It's an honor to be the first person to suck your dick Ernst.” Hänschen pulled
the trousers off of Ernst’s hips and slid them to the floor before kissing his
way back up from Ernst’s ankles to the inside of his thighs. Ernst still
couldn't believe this was really happening to him. The boy of his dreams, not
only dating him but taking him to the city in trains and renting nice hotel
rooms and  sucking his dick.  Ernst tried to focus on what was happening. He
didn't know if Hänschen was really good or if it was just Ernst’s first blow
job or a combination of both but he did know that if he could only feel one
thing for the rest of his life, it would be this crazy euphoria.
And just as he realized it, Hänschen pulled off. He grinned smugly up at Ernst
and said, “You know you don't have to be quiet Ernst.”
“We're in a hotel room.”
“And what, pray tell, do you think every other couple in this hotel is doing
right now?” He kissed Ernst’s thigh. “I want to hear you Ernst.” Hänschen
wrapped his mouth again around Ernst, who immediately moaned. Hänschen smiled
as much as he could with Ernst’s dick taking up space in his mouth. He flicked
his tongue around and Ernst moaned louder than before, his breath speeding up
as Hänschen did what Hänschen thought he did best. Ernst tangled his fingers in
Hänschen’s hair. Hänschen swallowed around Ernst and sent Ernst over the edge.
“Hänschen– Hänschen!”
He took Ernst’s hand and tried to mumble, “I love you Ernst.” The vibrations
sent shocks through Ernst’s whole body and he shuddered under Hänschen.
“Hänschen….” Ernst’s voice trailed off as he finished in Hänschen’s mouth.
Hänschen moved up Ernst’s body, pulling Ernst’s back onto Hänschen’s chest. “I
love you Hänschen.”
“I love you Ernst.”
Ernst flipped over, resting his hands on Hänschen’s hips. “Can I prove it?”
“You don’t need to prove anything…”
“I want to Hänschen. Please let me.”
Hänschen smiled at Ernst, his eyes trailing down his boyfriend’s beautiful bare
body. “I can never say no to you, you know that.”
Ernst grinned, his face still slightly flushed as he moved down Hänschen’s
chest.


***** Saturday *****
Chapter Notes
     It's finally here!!!!!!! sorry it took so long I hope y'all like it
     Tags have been updated for this chapter
     If you want to skip m/m sex skip from around "If this was all he had
     left, he was going to use it up" to "Wow what?"
     If you want to skip f/f sex skip from "You can't imagine how few
     shits I give about your breath" to "What are you doing?"
     A character talks about being sexually abused by a family member,
     it's mentioned that several characters smoke weed, and a character
     mentions self harm, but nothing too graphic/long-winded
     buckle up because it's wild
Melchior had always been an early riser. When he was a little kid, his parents
had prayed it was a phase. Unfortunately for them, it wasn’t. Fortunately, as
Melchior got older he developed the ability to entertain himself. So instead of
shaking Moritz awake when he woke up at 6:45 Saturday morning, Melchior lay
there, watching his boyfriend breathe. He couldn’t shake the feeling that
somehow he had done something wrong. In the library and the night before,
Moritz had jumped like Melchior’s touch burned him.
“Okay. No marks. I promise.” Melchior leaned forward but Moritz turned away.
“What now?” Something was wrong.
“I just...I actually need to study.”
Because Melchior’s thought process was very streamlined, he more often than not
replicated the same train of thought, and his thoughts turned guiltily towards
Hänschen again. Melchior sat up. He needed to talk to someone. The problem with
dating your best friend is that in some ways you lose your best friend.
Melchior couldn’t say, “Hey Moritz I’m having some issues with my boyfriend,”
or worse, “I’m having some stray thoughts about my sort-of-ex.” That’s why
Melchior had other friends. He wouldn’t call Ilse or Wendla or Thea or Martha
because he didn’t need the girls sighing and telling him, “If you love him, you
love him and that’s enough!” (And Thea would probably say, “I still can't
believe you slept with my brother. Honestly Melchior.”)That left Hänschen and
Ernst, and Ernst wouldn’t be useful in this realm. Melchior pulled his phone
off his bedside and pulled up Hänschen’s contact. Before Melchior could change
his mind, he pressed call.
“What the fuck Melchior? It’s seven in the morning!” Hänschen sounded groggy
and Melchior remembered what he had half-forgotten: most teenagers slept in on
the weekend. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tease Hänschen.
“Hello to you too Hänschen.”
“You can’t expect a man to be civil when you wake him at this ungodly hour.”
“Hänschen it’s seven. It’s not my fault you and Ernst stayed up until five a.m.
doing God knows what,” Melchior laughed quietly, trying not to wake Moritz.
“Pardon me, but we didn’t get into the city until six thirty and then had
dinner reservations at seven and passes into this exhibition opening at eight–”
“You swipe anything?”
“What?”
“I mean drinks not art.”
Hänschen laughed on the other end. “I wanted to but Ernst said my odds of
getting kissed were going to be almost non-existent if I tried to get anything
from the bar so you know, one vice for another. Anyway, then we left the museum
around eleven, got back to the hotel about eleven thirty, and stayed up until
only about two doing God knows what. Not that you’re one to talk, I’m sure you
and Moritz were up well past any reasonable bedtime.”
“Actually that’s what I’m calling about. Moritz was being all withdrawn
yesterday and we were asleep at ten thirty.”
“Well you know what Moritz is like. He’s probably just stressed.”
Melchior looked at the sleeping Moritz and smiled. “Yeah, I know. I’m just
worried.”
“About him?”
“About both of us.” He paused. “I don’t think he likes me anymore Hänschen.”
“Then you’re dumber than I thought you were. Moritz thinks the sun shines out
of your ass.”
“So why doesn’t he want to touch me anymore?”
Hänschen shrugged, then remembered Melchior couldn’t see him. “Supposedly these
things happen in relationships, not that I would know.”
“Well what are you supposed to do then?”
“When?”
“At the end of the day. After all the kissing and the touching and the,”
Melchior sighed and laid down, “the really  really  great sex. What do you do
then?”
Hänschen ran his fingers through his hair. “First of all, why do you think I'm
capable of answering these questions? You're Mr. Committed Boyfriend. I'm Mr.
Fuck and Leave Before Sunrise. You should have the answers.” Melchior laughed,
and something changed in Hänschen's tone. “But second of all, whatever you want
to do. I can't tell you how to be Moritz’s boyfriend anymore than I could tell
you how to be Ilse’s girlfriend. This is your thing to figure out.”
“I feel like an awful person Hänschen.”
“Why?”
“Because when Moritz isn’t touching me I try to think of ways to get him to
touch me and if I manage to stray away from that I end up thinking about… other
people.”
“Who?” There was a heavy pause and Hänschen said, “You want my help or not?”
Melchior sighed. Why did he always talk himself into corners like this? “You.”
“Makes sense. I was your first, right?” Melchior heard the bit of smugness in
Hänschen’s voice and couldn’t help but think that if the blonde boy were in the
room with him he’d probably punch him for being an asshole.
“Yeah but doesn’t thinking about people who aren’t my boyfriend make me an
awful person?”
“Thoughts, most thoughts anyway, aren’t good or bad. They just are. It’s what
you choose to do with those thoughts that matters Melchior.” He paused and
said, “I’d be lying if I said I’d never thought about you, but we both know you
and Moritz are fucking destined for each other, and I know that right now it’s
just all about Ernst for me.” He paused again. “Tell anyone I said that and
I’ll deny it. And then kill you”
Moritz moved next to Melchior and looked like he was about to sit up. “Alright,
thanks. I gotta go Hänschen. Have fun in the city.” He hung up and looked at
Moritz.
 
Ernst, rubbing his eyes, sat up next to Hänschen. “Who was on the phone?” he
asked groggily.
“Melchior.”
“Talking about what?”
“Issues he was having with Moritz.”
Ernst blinked at Hänschen. “Why would he ask you about relationship issues?”
Hänschen hit him with a pillow. “What I lack in experience feeling-wise I more
than compensate for in my sexual experience.” Ernst didn’t have time to agree
before Hänschen’s lips met his own.
Ernst kissed Hänschen briefly before pushing back. “It’s been two days. I’ve
tried to be patient but… can we talk?”
Hanschen sighed, but smiled at his adorable boyfriend. He leaned back onto the
pillows and stared at Ernst. “Yeah. Yeah we can talk. What about?”
“I’m not sure. I’m new to the whole dating thing.”
Hänschen leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “So am I.”
Ernst giggled before he said, “But at least you have other experience.”
A look of shock grew slowly across Hänschen’s face as he processed what Ernst
had said. “I was your first  anything ?”
“Not my first kiss,” Ernst said indignantly, “I’m not that pathetic.”
“Who was your first kiss?”
“Moritz. I told you this story before. He kissed Martha, and then she got all
offended because he liked Melchior but right before Moritz could do anything
Melchior was suddenly dating Wendla. So Moritz wanted to make Melchior jealous,
so he made out with me.”
“Oof. That’s a sucky circumstance.” Hänschen paused. “What happened then?”
“He cried. I thought maybe I was bad or something, but he was just sad about
Melchior.” Ernst laughed. “Funny how these things seem to work themselves out,
huh?”
“You worry a lot about being bad.” Hänschen wrapped his arms around Ernst.
“I’m new to all this.”
Hänschen made eye contact with his boyfriend and said, “Last night you could’ve
fooled me.” He smiled and then said, “You’ve really never done anything?”
Ernst shook his head. “Not before last night.” At the look on Hänschen’s face
he said, “What? You’re my best friend Hänschen. Don’t you think I would’ve told
you?”
“Maybe, maybe not. I mean, maybe it was something really sketchy, like you gave
a football player a handjob at a party.”
Ernst shook his head. “You were the first person to do anything to me, and the
first person I did anything to.” He paused. “So I think it’s time for the
elephant in the room. You’ve slept with enough people to fill a classroom.”
Hänschen rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “What do you want me
to say Ernst?”
Ernst shrugged. “Just the truth, I guess.”
“The truth is that I find sex to be incredibly fun and there are people out
there who want to have sex with me but for the past year the only person I
could think about was you but I knew I was too damaged for anyone, especially
pure, perfect you, to actually love me, so I tried to just keep fucking and
hoped that my feelings would go away. And yet, here we are. I’ve slept with a
lot of people Ernst, but you’re the only person I want to wake up next to every
day.” He looked over at Ernst to gauge his reaction and was thrilled that the
other boy was grinning broadly.
“Hänschen Rilow. Who knew you could be such a romantic?”
Hänschen smiled at him and groaned before sitting up. “Get dressed so we can go
eat.” He stood up and purposefully turned away, knowing that looking at any
part of Ernst’s (amazing) body would kill any resolve he had to leave the room.
“Ow!” Hänschen turned around to see Ernst stretching his back and looking smug.
“Made you look.”
Hänschen turned back around and pulled a shirt on. “Being annoying and smug is
my job. You’re supposed to be cute and sweet. Now hurry up. I have plans for us
today.”
 
Thea woke up to a banging on her bedroom door. She groaned and turned over,
trying to fall back asleep.
“Thea Magdalena Rilow, you wake up this instant!” Thea groaned again into her
pillow before she stood up and yanked her door open.
“I’m awake!” she said in her father’s face, before turning around and mumbling,
“You fucking happy?”
“You better not have said what I think you just said,” threatened Mr. Rilow
from the doorway, “Anyways, I’m off to my business conference. I will see you
tomorrow morning.”
“You’re not staying here?” Thea hoped against hope. If her father was out for
the night, that meant sleeping over at Martha’s house would be so much easier.
“As much as I’m loathe to leave the house unnecessarily, your mother insisted
that I take it. A free room is a free room after all. See you tomorrow
darling.” Mr. Rilow closed the door and Thea listened to him walk down the
stairs. Her heart was beating fast and her mind was racing. Her mother had
initially given her permission to sleep over at Martha’s and had been slightly
disapproving of her grounding to begin with, and now she had convinced Mr.
Rilow to stay away on the very night Thea had been meant to go out. It couldn’t
be a coincidence. For the first time in a while, Thea felt that her and her
mother might be on the same team.
Thea got dressed quickly, throwing on a t-shirt, fresh jeans, and a hoodie. She
searched her bed sheets for her cell phone. When she found it, she texted her
brother.
Thea: You smoke right?
Hänschen: What?
Thea: Do you have any weed in your room?
Hänschen: ...I’m not sure how to answer that
Thea: I’m not gonna tell dad or anything stupid like that, I’m just bored af in
the house by myself
Hänschen: Uh, yeah, I guess. There’s a joint in my thin desk drawer and other
stuff in a brown box under my bed.
Thea: Thanks bro
Hänschen: Hold up, since when do you smoke?
Thea: I’m much less innocent than you think big bro
Hänschen: How else? ;)
Thea: Gross. Like I’d tell you anything like that
Hänschen: You tell me about Martha, I’ll tell you what me and Ernst got up to
last night ;)
Thea: Fucking gross Hänsi, like I even want to know
Hänschen: He’s a moaner.
Thea: HANS JOHANN RILOW!! ENOUGH!!
Thea: *barfing noises*
Hänschen: Sorry.
Hänschen: (You and Martha are really cute by the way)
Thea: Thanks bro
Hänschen: No problem. (Way better than your hopeless crush on Melchior)
Thea: Like I’m the only one to have a hopeless crush on that messy Gabor boy.
Hänschen: True
Thea: Not like you didn’t chase after him too
Hänschen: At least I succeeded ;) (He’s pretty quiet)
Thea: Gross! Go spend time with your boyfriend
Hänschen: And you go sneak out of the house to smoke with your girlfriend
Hänschen: Be careful with the snow! It’s dangerous out there.
Thea: She doesn’t smoke, but I getcha. I know how to deal with snow, I’m not a
child. Bye bro
She smiled, tucking her phone into her pocket. Thea crept quietly down the
hallway to her brother’s room. She opened the desk as quietly as possible and
pulled the joint out before searching under his bed for the box. She found it
and pulled out a slick silver lighter, remembering to thank her brother as
profusely as possible as soon as they were both free. Thea replaced the box
before yanking out her brother’s emergency ladder. She put it out the window,
scrambled down the steps, and hid the ladder in the bushes.
Wendla woke up to the sound of Ilse humming quietly, the smell of tea brewing,
and early morning light streaming into their room. She sat up and stretched,
yawning.
“About time,” Ilse teased from an armchair where she was checking her phone.
“Good morning sleepy head.”
“I smell tea.” Wendla looked around expectantly, as though a bucket of tea
might be floating somewhere in the room, waiting for her.
“Crappy motel tea, but tea,” Ilse said, “It’s by the TV.”
Wendla looked at Ilse, pleading with her eyes. Ilse laughed and shook her head.
Wendla huffed and reluctantly stood up, walking over to the TV and taking a sip
of her tea.
Ilse locked her phone and slipped it into her pocket. “Ready for some bad
news?”
Wendla sighed and placed her tea back on the table. “I just woke up. Is it
really time for bad news already?”
“Unfortunately,” Ilse said. “The concert’s been canceled because the roads are
still blocked. No concert, no driving.”
Sighing exasperatedly, Wendla collapsed backwards onto the bed. “Of course. We
plan an epic date and we miss it because of the FUCKING SNOW.” She turned over
onto her stomach, her face buried in the pillows.
Laughing at her girlfriend’s theatrics, Ilse walked over to the bed and put her
hand between Wendla’s shoulder blades. “Wendla?” Wendla grunted into the
pillow. “Wendla Bergmann?”
“What do you want from me?” Her voice was muffled in the pillow, but her
dissatisfaction at missing the concert was not.
“We can still have a great date,” Ilse said soothingly, running her fingers
through Wendla’s hair, playing with the brown curls while her girlfriend
pouted. “Just think about it: a whole day where we don’t have to do anything or
go anywhere.”
“I want to go back to sleep,” Wendla muttered.
Ilse stared at Wendla, clearly not amused by that idea. “Um, no. We’re going to
take advantage of the fact that no one in this hotel knows us.”
Wendla sat up and looked at Ilse. “Are we gonna prank people?”
“No,” Ilse laughed, “I was thinking something a little more private.”
“Oh,” Wendla said, nodding and only half-kidding, “You want to fuck really
loudly.”
Ilse’s level tone was completely at odds with the furious red blush covering
her face and neck. “Well you’re usually pretty loud anyway––”
Wendla hit her with a pillow and a shout of, “Am not!”
“Please! That time we played Seven Minutes in Heaven at Melchior’s house he
asked me if I had been fucking you because you were moaning so loudly.” Ilse
smiled at her pouting girlfriend.
“That did not happen.”
“Did so,” Ilse said, aware of how much the two of them sounded like petulant
children, “Ask him if you don’t believe me.” She paused, slowly moving one of
her hands to rest on one of Wendla’s knees. “I think he was jealous,” she
whispered conspiratorially, “I think he wishes you’d been that loud for him.”
“Is it really that bad?” Wendla asked so quietly Ilse almost missed the
question.
“Well, I think it’s really hot,” Ilse said, her hand slowly inching up Wendla’s
thigh. “So don’t stop on my account.
“I think you’re really hot,” Wendla countered.
“Funny, because I think you’re really hot,” Ilse responded, leaning in closer.
“Oh shut up,” Wendla said, laying down and pulling her girlfriend on top of
her. Their lips collided and Wendla wrapped her arms around Ilse’s head.
“Wait,” she said, pulling back slightly, “I have morning breath.”
Ilse looked at Wendla like she’d grown a second head. “You can’t  imagine  how
few shits I give about your breath right now.”
“Actually, I can,” Wendla said, pulling Ilse’s hands under her nightgown.
“You're wearing so little,” Ilse groaned into Wendla’s neck.
“Isn't that a good thing?” Wendla asked, hands tangled in Ilse’s hair. “There's
so little separating us.”
Ilse grinded gently into Wendla’s leg. “Usually, yeah. But today it's just
unfair because I'm overdressed.”
Wendla flipped them over, her legs on either side of Ilse’s waist. “We’ll just
have to fix that then.” She quickly pulled off Ilse’s sweater as she painted
her neck and collar with red and purple kisses.
“I'm so glad you're not a pillow princess,” Ilse whispered, her hand combing
through Wendla’s hair.
“What does that mean?” Wendla asked into Ilse’s neck, tugging at her shirt.
“I was kind of scared when we started dating that you'd be a pillow
princess–like the type of girl who is always lying face up on the bottom and
never does anything.” Ilse's shirt came over her face as Wendla yanked it off
her.
“Well, you're welcome.” Wendla bit at Ilse’s chest, teasing toward her nipples.
“I'm not going to be able to wear anything low cut,” Ilse whined.
“It's January babe. You shouldn't be wearing anything low cut anyways. Unless
it's in private with me.” Wendla pulled Ilse's leggings down, grabbing her ass
as she passed it and throwing the leggings onto the ground. Ilse stroked
Wendla's thighs, fingers creeping towards the edge of her underwear. Wendla
gently reached around, nails trailing softly on Ilse’s rib cage.
“What about when we go to dances?”
Wendla laughed. “We already have dresses for the dances and they're not low
cut. Relax babe.” She unclasped Ilse’s bra and pulled it off her arms.
“We’re uneven again.”
“Huh?”
“I'm just in my underwear, but you've got your nightgown.”
“Well, fix it.” Wendla put her arms up, and Ilse pushed her nightgown off,
giggling at the way the light hit the silky fabric before the dress hit the
floor. Ilse stroked one of Wendla’s curls and smiled up at her.
“You’re beautiful. I love you.”
Wendla smiled, hands caressing Ilse’s soft midriff skin. “You’re beautiful too
and I love you too.” Her fingers slid up and spread around Ilse’s breasts.
“You’re amazing.” She kissed her forehead. “Talented.” She kissed her nose.
“Cute.” Her cheeks. “Sexy.” The top of her breast. “Mine.” Wendla pulled Ilse
into a deep kiss, lips and tongues moving fast, each coating the other in
saliva. Ilse pulled Wendla closer, their bodies coming almost completely into
contact. Ilse rolled her hips up into Wendla’s as Wendla squeezed Ilse’s
breasts, slowly massaging them together. Wendla leaned back, watching Ilse’s
face as the the other girl groaned in delight. She admired her girlfriend for a
few moments before a look of confusion spread across her face from her eyebrows
to her mouth. Ilse peered up at her.
“What’s wrong?” Ilse stroked her arm, soothing and encouraging.
“I don’t know what to do next,” Wendla admitted, face turning pink as she
looked at her feet.
“I can be on top if that would be better for you,” Ilse suggested, and Wendla
nodded, gently flipping them over. “You have to tell me whether or not you like
things. We’ve never done this, so I’m as lost as you, okay? You have to say, ‘I
like that,’ or, ‘Don’t do that,’ okay?”
“What about, ‘Fuck, Ilse, yes!’? Is that acceptable?” Wendla smirked up at
Ilse.
“Absolutely.” Ilse rolled their hips together slowly, hands teasing gently from
Wendla’s cheeks to the band of her underwear, then up from her knees to the
inside of her thighs. She grinned at Wendla, who smiled dazedly back. “What do
you want babe?”
“I don’t know… just….” Unable to complete her sentence, Wendla rolled her hips
up into Ilse’s, incapable of phrasing her desires.
Ilse smiled and leaned forward, capturing Wendla in a sweet kiss before she
whispered, “Don’t worry. I’m going to make it good for you babe.” She trailed
her mouth down Wendla’s neck and across her chest. Ilse kissed Wendla’s nipple
lightly before sucking it into her mouth. Wendla let out a breathy exhale,
hands on Ilse’s shoulders clenching slightly. Ilse bit and kissed and sucked at
Wendla’s chest, her hands wrapping around her girlfriend’s breasts and
massaging them gently as her mouth continued its descent. “You’re so sexy
Wendla. All of you. You’re so gorgeous.” She moved Wendla’s legs slightly so
she was resting between them, grinding gently into the mattress as she left
purple marks across Wendla’s torso. Wendla’s breathing was speeding up, every
mark causing her to take a sharp gasp. Ilse’s hands tugged at Wendla’s skin as
she pulled them downwards.
When Ilse hooked her thumbs in Wendla’s underwear, Wendla made a loud noise
that sounded halfway between a groan and a gasp. Ilse looked up, her head level
with her girlfriend’s navel. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah…. Yes, I’m alright. I’m ready if you want to do anything else.”
Ilse smiled wickedly and pulled down Wendla’s underwear, sliding them gently
off her legs. “Get ready babe. I’m going to make you feel great.” She gently
massaged the newly exposed area before using one finger to search for Wendla’s
clitoris. Wendla moaned the loudest Ilse had ever heard her, and Ilse knew she
had found her mark. She rubbed her pointer finger solidly on the spot and
Wendla’s head tipped back, moans spilling freely out of her mouth now. “You
like that Wendla?”
“Uh-huh,” Wendla exhaled. Smirking, Ilse bent forward, her nose brushing gently
through Wendla’s dark pubic curls before her tongue took the place of her
finger, twirling Wendla’s clitoris lightly with her tongue. After hearing
Wendla’s renewed moans, Ilse slipped the tip of her tongue into Wendla gently.
“Fuck Ilse.”
“Good fuck or bad fuck?” Ilse said, the vibrations running through Wendla’s
hips.
“Good,” Wendla breathed. Ilse curled her tongue towards Wendla’s stomach,
rubbing her clitoris with her hand at the same time. Wendla moaned loudly,
breathing fast and skin flushed. “Fuck, fuck, Ilse!” she almost screamed, hips
lifting off the mattress. Wendla’s heart was racing and she felt something
building inside of her, like she was climbing a mountain and would soon crest
over it. Ilse twisted her tongue and pressed hard with her fingers at the same
time and Wendla moaned loudly as her orgasm rocked through every muscle in her
body. Ilse sat up and smiled at her girlfriend.
“Good?”
Wendla looked at Ilse like she was crazy. “Amazing, smartass.” Ilse laid down
on the mattress next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and Wendla
looked up at her. “Now what can I do for you?”
“You don’t––”
“Don’t be silly. Here.” Wendla climbed on top of Ilse, pulling her girlfriend’s
underwear down and clumsily massaging her clitoris. “Sorry I’m not good at
this.”
“Now you’re being silly. I love you and I will enjoy this no matter how ‘good’
you are at it.”
Wendla’s hand movement was jerky and light as she asked, “Well how can I be
better?”
Ilse was quiet before she asked, “Do you masturbate Wendla?”
She turned red as she shook her head. “I never…. I was always… I just don’t.”
Ilse nodded. “Okay, here. Let me help.” Ilse placed her own hand over Wendla’s
and guided her until she figured out the rhythm and Ilse released her to lean
back on the mattress, head tilted upwards.
“You’re so gorgeous Ils. I love seeing you like this, all flushed and laid out
for me. All mine. My beautiful girl, desperate for my touch. God, it’s so hot.”
Ilse groaned at Wendla’s words, pleasure sweeping over her slowly until her
orgasm crashed like a wave. She kissed her girlfriend gently before Wendla
rolled off of her.
“Sorry,” Wendla whispered.
“For what?”
“That stuff I said. It was…”
“It was hot. I liked it.” Ilse smiled at her and Wendla pulled the sheets up
over herself. “What are you doing?”
“Just getting under the sheets,” Wendla said, not making eye contact with her
girlfriend.
“But why?” Ilse turned onto her side and rubbed her hand on Wendla’s side,
obscured by the white hotel sheets.
“It’s comfy.” At Ilse’s pointed staring, Wendla said, “I don’t like being
naked.”
“Why not?”
“I never feel pretty.”
Ilse stared at her girlfriend. “You can’t be serious.” When Wendla didn’t reply
she said, “Darling, you’re so sexy I can’t believe it most of the time.”
Wendla shook her head. “Not me, you. You’re all skinny and toned and perfect.”
She refused to make eye contact with Ilse, who still was in a state of total
disbelief.
“Skinny is overrated. You have an amazing body, and I love all of it.” Gently,
she pulled the sheet off Wendla and dragged her fingers over Wendla’s skin.
“Your beautiful face, your neck, your arms, your amazing boobs,” –both girls
gasped as Ilse cupped Wendla’s breasts– “your waist, your hips, your thighs,
your ass.” Wendla gasped again as Ilse grabbed her butt gently. “It’s all
beautiful, it’s all you, and you’re all beautiful.”
“I feel big,” Wendla whispered.
“Sometimes, bigger  is  better.” Ilse smiled and both girls dissolved into a
fit of laughter.
 
A few hours later, after a quick lunch with Mrs. Gabor, Melchior and Moritz
returned to Melchior’s basement room. Melchior reached the foot of his bed
first and said softly, “Hey. Come here.”
Moritz walked slowly and shyly over to him and stood a few inches away. “What?”
Melchior laced his left hand with Moritz’s right and used the other to pull him
in. Their lips met gently and sweetly. Moritz smiled as much as he could while
kissing Melchior as he pulled his hand free, burying it instead in Melchior’s
curly brown hair. Melchior ran his fingers lightly up Moritz’s sides,
delighting at the shivers that ran through the smaller boy. He pushed back
gently and Moritz fell onto his bed.
“Wait,” Moritz said as Melchior moved to lean over him.
“What?” Melchior asked carefully.  Are you scared? Are you okay? What’s wrong?
How can I help?
“This doesn’t feel right.”  Do you love me? Am I just your cute fuck buddy? I
guess I could be okay with that like you’re incredibly hot and a great fuck but
you constantly call me your boyfriend but you don’t love me….
“How?”  What am I doing wrong?  “Do you want to stop?” Moritz shook his head.
“Do you–I don’t know… do you want to try being on top?” Again Moritz shook his
head.
“Never mind.”  It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.
“Are you sure?”  Just please tell me what’s wrong I don’t know and I can’t help
unless you tell me Moritz…  “We don’t have to…”
Moritz shook his head. “We didn’t do anything last night and I want to make it
up to you now.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
“Positive?”
“Positive.”
“Okay.” Melchior leaned forward, lips pressing into the crook where Moritz’s
neck met his shoulder, hands teasing the bottom of Moritz’s shirt. Moritz ran
his fingers down Melchior’s back, grabbing the bottom of Melchior’s shirt.
This, at least, Moritz understood. He knew how to be really good at this. How
to make Melchior happy. If this was all he had left, he was going to use it up.
He yanked Melchior’s shirt over his head.
“You’re quiet today,” Melchior said, slowly lifting Moritz’s shirt and pressing
his hands to his boyfriend’s bare muscles.
“Well,” Moritz said, his voice temporarily muffled by his shirt coming over his
head. “Not everyone is as loud and verbose as you are during sex.”
“Oh, big words. But fair,” Melchior responded, lips moving down to Moritz’s
sternum. “But not everyone has sex that is as great as the sex we have.”
“You’re the only one of the two of us with any frame of reference.”
Melchior snorted. “Ilse is a pretty hot frame of reference.”
Moritz sat up, shot him a look, and smacked the back of Melchior’s head before
laying back down. “I don’t really remember it to be honest,” he said, fingers
running through his own hair, “I was pretty plastered.”
“You both were drunk, she offered, you were sad or whatever and said yes, she
sucked you off. It’s not a hard story.” Melchior chuckled. “I mean, at the
beginning it would’ve been a hard story–”
“Shut up Melchi! I didn’t mean that any way. I meant you’re… I… I’ve never had
anyone else’s dick in my ass.”
“Such romantic, eloquent phrasing,” Melchior teased. “If it makes you feel
better, yours is far and away the best ass my dick has ever been in.”
“You’re just saying that,” Moritz blushed profusely, even as the compliment
sent blood rushing to his groin.
“Shhhh….” Melchior knew how to do this. Maybe he didn’t understand how Moritz’s
brain worked but he knew just how to make him flush and squirm and gasp. He
dragged his tongue over Moritz’s chest, gently tracing the outline of his
nipple. Melchior grinned at the small moan that escaped Moritz’s mouth. He
sucked Moritz’s nipple into his mouth, rolling it gently between his lips.
“Melchi…” Moritz groaned quietly. In response Melchior crawled back up and
pushed his mouth against Moritz’s. “Melchi…”
“What do you need?” Melchior sounded slightly exasperated.
“You’re so slow,” Moritz whispered teasingly before he pushed his tongue into
Melchior’s mouth, nails scraping down his boyfriend’s back as he pulled
Melchior’s hips into his. Both both groaned as their covered erections pressed
against each other.
“You want fast?” Melchior pulled at Moritz’s belt and undid his pants, rubbing
a hand on the seam of his boyfriend’s boxers. “I can do fast.”
“Then by all means, please do,” Moritz said, pushing his jeans off his hips and
grabbing at the waistband of Melchior’s. Melchior pulled his own jeans off
before wiggling Moritz’s over his feet, leaving the boys in only their boxers.
Melchior leaned back into Moritz, their mouths colliding and hands roving over
bodies. Moritz stretched an arm out towards the nightstand and grabbed a condom
and a bottle of lube that he shoved into Melchior’s chest. Melchior nodded,
pleasantly surprised at Moritz’s enthusiasm, before he pulled down Moritz’s
boxers and coated two fingers with lube. Gently and slowly, he pressed a finger
into Moritz, listening carefully to his boyfriend’s breathing. Carefully,
Melchior pulled back out, then pressed both fingers in. “Fuck Melchior,” Moritz
breathed as Melchior scissored his fingers, “Let’s go.”
“You’re ready?” asked Melchior. Moritz nodded rapidly and Melchior pulled his
fingers out, wiping them on the bedspread before he pulled his own boxers off.
He groaned into a small exhale as he unwrapped a condom and pulled it over
himself. Melchior coated his length with lube and pushed into Moritz. He
waited, every muscle in his body taut as he held back his desire to thrust
forward, for Moritz’s signal. Moritz, eyes closed and mouth open slightly,
squeezed Melchior’s shoulders, fingernails pushing in lightly. Melchior
immediately began moving, hips rocking so quickly that the bed frame shook.
Moritz clawed at Melchior’s back as his prostate was brushed gently. He wrapped
his legs around Melchior’s waist, pushing him in farther. “Fuck Moritz, you’re
so fucking beautiful, oh my God.” The words spilled out of Melchior's mouth as
he wrapped one of his hands around Moritz’s erection, hand moving roughly in
time with his hips.
“Melchi, I–––––” Moritz was silenced by Melchior’s lips on his own as he came
on both of their stomachs.
“Fuck Moritz,” Melchior said, slamming into Moritz two more times before he
finished with a choked exhale.
Melchior pulled out of Moritz and walked to his bathroom, throwing out the
condom and grabbing a washcloth. He wiped Moritz’s stomach and collapsed onto
the bed. “Wow.”
“Wow what?”
“Wow this is amazing every time and I can’t believe we ever manage to get
anything else done.” Melchior stretched his arms behind his head and yawned.
“Nap time?”
“W-won’t your mom know what we just did if she comes in?” Moritz shuddered at
the thought.
“Moritz,” Melchior said soothingly, stroking his boyfriend’s arm as he spoke,
“We told my mom we’re dating, which she already knew, and I’m pretty sure,
despite what a lot of very conservative people like to pretend, that all
parents know high school relationships usually mean some kind of sex.”
“But she’s home...wouldn’t she...I mean if I knew people were having sex while
I was home…” There was a weight settling in the bottom of Moritz’s stomach and
he felt like he was going to throw up. Sex with Melchior was always great, and
today hadn’t been an exception. He had  asked  Melchior to keep going, he had
encouraged  Melchior to go faster, he had  wanted  Melchior to fuck him
senseless, but his senses had returned to him as soon as Melchior had wiped his
stomach, and now he felt uncomfortable in his skin and his brain and he wanted
to scream until he lost his voice. Moritz needed to talk to Melchior and he
didn’t have the words.
“Don’t think about that,” Melchior whispered, “Think about how much you would
love to curl up under my sheets with me and fall asleep in my arms.”
Moritz looked into his boyfriend’s blue eyes. Blue like the sky, blue like the
ocean, blue like so many vast, unconquerable places. He smiled a slightly dopey
smile and nodded. With a grin Melchior pulled the covers over both of them. He
stared at Moritz and traced one finger lightly over the smaller boy’s
collarbone.
“You’re so beautiful Moritz.”
Moritz closed his eyes, trying to allow the feeling of Melchior’s hands on his
body to consume his entirety so no other sensations or thoughts were left. Try
as he might, he kept replaying the short conversation in his head.  I can’t
believe we ever manage to get anything else done.
His eyes flew open and he looked at Melchior. “Why don’t we ever do anything
else?”
“How do you mean?” asked Melchior.
“I mean all we do anymore is have sex.”
Melchior cocked an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you didn’t want to have sex.”
“That’s not what I said. That’s not what I meant. I-I-”
“What do you mean Moritz?” Melchior asked sincerely, eyes wide and focusing on
Moritz.
“I mean we used to do other things too. Go to museums, have movie marathons,
see baseball games… Things. Dates.”
“We can do stuff like that again,” said Melchior. He didn't say, “You're just
saying that because of Hänschen and Ernst’s epic date,” even though he thought
it might be the truth.
“But why'd we stop doing things like that? Did you only do them to string me
along and then when we started fucking it didn't matter anymore? Did you stop
loving me?” Moritz sat up, eyebrows furrowed. When Melchior fidgeted slightly,
Moritz said, “I love you Melchior. Do you–do you love me?”
The silence following Moritz’s question stretched out slightly too long.
Melchior reached out to touch his arm but Moritz pulled away like he'd been
burned. “Never mind I–” He didn't finish his sentence as he scrambled away from
Melchior and off of his bed. He didn't turn around as he pulled on his boxers
and jeans, he didn't look at Melchior when he found his shirt, he didn't smile
a silent goodbye at his boyfriend as he climbed the stairs out of his room.
“Moritz?” He didn't turn around. “Moritz, wait!” Melchior was sitting up in his
bed, staring at Moritz as if trying to will him next to Melchior again. “You
can't go anywhere. The roads are still closed.”
Moritz went back down the steps and picked up his backpack. “Then I'll just
study in the dining room.”
“Study with me,” Melchior pleaded, rubbing the spot next to him on the
mattress.
Moritz swallowed as tears started to well in his eyes. “I think I'd do better
in the dining room,” he said coldly. He turned to the stairs.
“Moritz?” Melchior called so softly Moritz almost thought he'd imagined it.
“What does this mean?”
Moritz swallowed, vision blurred by tears. “This means I'm going to go to the
dining room because you don't love me back and I can't deal with that right now
but I'm pathetic and I love you so I'll probably be back because you're a good
lay and I'll probably love you forever but right now I need you to leave me
alone.” Tears raced down his cheeks and he climbed the steps out of Melchior's
room.
Fuck , Melchior thought,  fuck fuck I'm a fucking idiot and an asshole holy
shit .
 
Ernst had only been ice skating once before in his life. The whole grade had
gone on a bunch of trips into the city in eighth grade to celebrate the end of
elementary school, including a mid-January trip to the ice skating rink. Ernst
had clung to the wall then, only drifting out onto the ice when Hänschen (who
went ice skating with his sister at least once a week in the winter) slowed
down enough to tease him lovingly about clinging onto the wall. He cursed
Hänschen silently for picking something he wasn’t good at for their first date
as he laced into his rented skates. He stood up, wobbling slightly.
“Come on Ernst.” Hänschen grabbed one of his hands and pulled him gently
towards the ice. Ernst gripped the wall like his life depended on it as soon as
he could. “Ernst.” He turned around, and Hänschen was standing there, a gloved
hand extended towards him. “Come with me.” Ernst hesitated for a second. He was
going to fall on his ass and hurt himself and look like a fool in front of his
beautiful, talented best friend/boyfriend and everyone would laugh. But the
look in Hänschen’s eyes was so soft and Ernst figured he needed to let go of
the wall eventually. Why not now?
He grabbed Hänschen’s hand and Hänschen pulled him in, wrapping an arm around
Ernst’s waist. “I’m so terrified,” Ernst whispered, half-laughing.
“I’m not that scary.”
“Not of you stupid. Although you can be pretty scary. I’m not good at ice
skating. Also, everyone is staring at us.”
Hänschen shrugged and smirked. “Then let’s give them something to stare at.” He
leaned forwards, pushing Ernst’s head up slightly as their mouths met gently.
Ernst giggled in the back of his throat and Hänschen pulled away. “What’s so
funny?”
Ernst shook his head, smiling. “You’re just so… sweet.”
Hänschen raised an eyebrow. “Don’t sound so surprised. I can do sweet. Now come
on. If we stand here any longer people are going to start shouting at us.” He
dragged Ernst onto the center of the ice, leading him gently with his hand.
All in all, Ernst only really fell once, and that was because he decided he
should race Hänschen, which had not been a good idea at all. Hänschen had
skated back to him and laughingly offered a hand. “Are you okay?”
“Stop laughing and help me up asshole.” He stood up with Hänschen’s help and
clung to the wall. “I’m getting tired.”
“Okay. We can leave. But first,” and Hänschen pulled Ernst into a deep kiss
again. Smiling broadly, Ernst tugged his boyfriend off the ice. While they were
untying their skates, Hänschen said, “I have somewhere I want to take you.”
“Where?”
“Just give your skates back and I’ll show you.”
Ernst followed Hänschen down the cold sidewalk, gloved hands clasped together.
It was nice, although neither boy would voice it, to be away from their small
town and be able to hold hands without anyone watching them, threatening to
tell Hänschen’s father, Mr. Rilow’s presence looming over the town like a giant
cloud. They were just another couple in a sea of human beings. Hänschen thought
that maybe anonymity doesn’t get enough credit for being as freeing as it is.
They walked for a few blocks, not talking, simply enjoying the presence of
another person. Hänschen was leading and Ernst trailed about a half step
behind. Hänschen stopped suddenly, opening a door in a ridiculous show of
chivalry. Ernst walked into the store and gasped.
Every town had bookstores, but Ernst had never been in one like this. Two quiet
floors of dark mahogany shelves filled with books of all kinds. The air smelled
like knowledge and unopened books. Ernst might not have been as smart as
Hänschen or Melchior but he loved to read just as much. Gaping around at the
room he felt Hänschen wrap his arms around his waist and heard him whisper, “Do
you like it?”
“It’s incredible Hänsi.”
“I think of you whenever I’m here. It’s quiet and beautiful and full of so many
things to experience, so many secrets to learn.” He kissed Ernst’s jaw. “Like
you.”
Ernst turned bright red. “You’re always full of surprises aren’t you?”
“I try my best.” They stood still before Hänschen whispered, “Well? Go find
some books I can buy for you silly.” Ernst looked shocked at Hänschen’s words,
and Hänschen smiled. “Like you said, full of surprises.” He pushed his
boyfriend off to explore the books, and when Ernst turned around to look at him
again, he waved him towards the stacks and watched his boyfriend peruse the
shelves avidly.
 
After the girls took showers (separately, to Ilse’s mild chagrin) they watched
TV aimlessly, channel surfing whenever a commercial started. Eventually it was
one thirty and Ilse said, “We didn’t have breakfast at all. We should probably
have lunch somewhere.”
“Room service?” Wendla asked mischievously. “We could eat off each other.”
Ilse looked at her. “Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend
Wendla Bergmann? Mild mannered girl, brown long curly hair, sexy as hell but
also modest to the point of ridiculousness.” Wendla laughed. “No, I was
thinking we could put on our nice dresses and go to the hotel restaurant.”
“Can we?”
“My mom gave me like a hundred dollars to spend on merch at the concert but we
can’t go there, so?”
“So fancy lunch in the hotel? Absolutely babe!” Wendla kissed Ilse quickly and
stood up, spinning around the room and running to her suitcase. She pulled out
a dress Ilse had helped her pick out and Ilse’s breath caught in her throat as
she remembered what Wendla had looked like trying that dress on. It was a dark
blue dress, knee length, tight on top, wide straps, and most of the back was
cut out. It looked perfect on Wendla, and Ilse couldn’t imagine ever being able
to form more than two cohesive thoughts a time if Wendla wore that dress around
her. Not that she would mind. It was always nice to take a break from
constantly thinking and creating and imagining.
Wendla pulled a pair of shoes out of her bag and skipped off to the bathroom.
Ilse went over to her suitcase and pulled out the mint green dress she and
Wendla had picked out on the same trip that had brought about the navy blue
dress. It didn’t look nearly as good on her as Wendla’s did, but she loved it.
It was flowy and lacy and very light feeling. Both girls had bought
impractically matching shoes, so Ilse’s were flats the exact same shade as her
dress with a tiny little bow on the toes.
Ilse turned around when the door to the bathroom opened and almost dropped the
small purse she was holding. Wendla was more gorgeous in the dress than Ilse
had remembered. Her blue suede platform stilettos made her the same height as
Ilse instead of her usual four inches shorter. Her hair was neater and less
frizzy than usual, her eyeshadow made her eyes pop, and the blue fabric hugged
Wendla’s curves in all the right places. Ilse had no probably admitting her
girlfriend looked sexy in just about anything (including just in bed sheets, as
she had learned earlier that day), but Wendla could have set fires with how hot
she looked right now.
“You should close your mouth darling,” Wendla said, walking towards Ilse and
closing her jaw with a gentle finger before pressing a kiss to her lips. She
smirked and said, “You'll catch flies.”
“You used to be so shy. Like, three hours ago.”
“I guess you make me so happy I forget to be scared of everything.”
“That’s pretty gay Wendla.”
“You’re a pretty gay.” Wendla leaned forward again and kissed Ilse. “Now come
on! It’s time to go eat.” Wendla dragged Ilse out of the room and down the hall
to the elevator.
Ilse’s prediction had come true, and she was almost incapable of carrying a
conversation throughout dinner, but luckily for her, Wendla had found Ilse’s
mild incapacitation adorable instead of annoying. When they got back up to the
hotel room, Ilse buried her face in Wendla’s neck. “You look so gorgeous,” she
whispered into her girlfriend’s skin. “I can’t believe I survived that lunch.”
Wendla turned scarlet. “You’re just saying that because of the dress.”
Ilse pressed her hands to Wendla’s waist and ran her palms up and down her
girlfriend’s sides. “I am definitely doing no such thing. I’m saying it because
it’s true.” She left no room for argument as she pushed her mouth onto
Wendla’s. A few moments later, she pulled back abruptly and walked across the
room. “We need to find something to do or I’m just going to want to fuck you
again.”
“Wanna go swimming?”
“Sure.”
Ilse changed into her swimsuit, her heart rate gradually slowing, while Wendla
changed in the bathroom. Wendla called her name so faintly Ilse thought she
imagined it before she heard it again.
“What do you need Wendla?”
The bathroom door opened a crack and Wendla said, “My swimsuit doesn’t fit.”
“Shit. Okay. What do we do?”
“I don't know! I'm asking you!” Ilse heard Wendla start to hyperventilate and
scrambled for a plan.
“I think I saw a boutique in the lobby! We can buy you a swimsuit.” Ilse
listened to Wendla take a deep breath and then heard her stand up and felt the
door shut.
“Okay. Let me get back in my clothes.”
They walked down the hall to the elevator and took it down to the lobby. It
wasn't until they were the in the boutique that Ilse broke the silence. “So how
come you didn't know your swimsuit didn't fit anymore?”
“I haven't gone swimming since the summer and that was before, you know,”
Wendla gestured vaguely towards her chest and Ilse nodded. “And it totally
didn't occur to me when you said to pack a swimsuit. Sorry.”
“There's nothing to be sorry about,” Ilse smiled and said soothingly. “It's not
your fault. And now we get to buy you a cute new swimsuit.”
Wendla perused the racks, a frown growing deeper and deeper as she did.
“What's wrong?”
“They're all two pieces.”
“So?”
“I've never owned a two piece.” At Ilse’s look of shock, Wendla said, “You know
what my mother’s like! If she had her way all the time I’d dress like a nun.”
“Okay so we can buy you a two piece and explain the circumstances.”
“She'll say something like, ‘You didn't have to go swimming,’ or, ‘Modesty is
more important that fun.’”
Ilse shoved two swimsuits into Wendla’s arms and said, “Then blame me, your
bad-influence girlfriend.” She turned Wendla around and pushed her gently into
a changing room, shaking her head and wondering how she ended up with such a
well behaved girlfriend.
Wendla came out of the changing room a few minutes later, a black bikini draped
across her arms. “I’m getting this one.” She walked to the register and paid
for it, Ilse following close behind. Wendla led the way back up to their room
and both girls got changed again, Wendla in the bathroom and Ilse in the
bedroom.
The door to the bathroom creaked open and Wendla stepped out gently. “Do you
like it?”
Ilse looked up and it took all of the strength she had not to let her jaw drop.
“You’re a knockout babe.”
“Really?”
Ilse crossed the room in two steps and pinned Wendla to the wall with a kiss.
“Really. Now,” she handed Wendla a towel, “let’s go swimming.”
 
Thea rang Martha’s doorbell, hoping three o’clock wasn’t too early to show up
for a sleepover. Martha opened the door and lit up when she saw Thea. She
pulled her into a hug but released her quickly. “You smell like weed.”
Thea shrugged and, looking at the ground, asked, “Does it bother you?”
Martha ushered her in and closed the door behind her girlfriend before she
said, “It only bothers me that you smoked without me and then showed up here
smelling like weed.”
Thea raised an eyebrow, “You smoke?”
“No, but I know you were smoking by yourself because Otto and Georg are playing
videogames and/or fucking, Hänschen is out of town, and Melchior and Moritz are
snowed in. Hang on,” Martha said, realizing something, “Did you walk here
during a road closure after smoking outside in the snow?” Thea looked at the
ground. “Oh my god Thea, don’t ever do that again!” Martha stepped closed to
Thea and pulled her head up. “I could never forgive myself if something bad
happened to you.” She pushed a kiss onto Thea’s lips before she pulled back and
said, “You taste like weed too.” Thea grinned sheepishly.
“Come upstairs,” Martha said, and Thea obediently followed. She’d only been to
Martha’s house once, for Martha’s thirteenth birthday. Martha had had everyone
over and the house had been draped in purple and blue decorations. Her mom had
made a cake and everyone had played Twister, back when no one was dating and
the only one of them with any kind of experience was Hänschen. They had all
laughed together and Martha had smiled all day and her mom had been so nice to
everyone. As awful as she knew it was, Thea spent a long part of that day being
jealous. It hadn’t seemed fair that everyone else was so happy all the time and
she was miserable. Sometimes she even thought Hänschen was happier than she
was. All of them had friends and she was just Hänsi’s sour little sister. It
hadn’t seemed fair that Martha got to have one amazing parent and Thea had two
that sucked. Thea had wished that she could move in with Martha, just to have
her mother take care of her. All these thoughts came back to her as she climbed
the stairs to the bedroom of an amazing girl who was now her girlfriend and not
just one of her brother’s friends. And if she still felt a twinge of jealousy
at how happy Martha was, if she still wanted to run away from home and have
Mrs. Bessell take care of her (with maybe one ulterior motive in living with
Martha), that was just her business.
Thea gasped as she walked into Martha’s room. “What?” Martha asked.
“It’s… it’s exactly how I’d decorate my room.” The pinewood floor was bare, the
walls were splatter painted, there weren’t bookcases so much as several shelves
mounted in an arc around the head of Martha’s bed, and there were few actual
decorations other than photos and ticket stubs Martha had taped over the walls.
“Why, what does your bedroom look like?” Martha asked, sitting down on her bed
and motioning for Thea to join her.
“Well,” Thea began, slipping off her shoes and sitting on the bed too, “imagine
the room of a four year old who loves unicorns. Now make it more 70s.” She
flopped backwards so she was lying down, staring at the ceiling.
Martha giggled. “That’s what your room looks like?”
“Courtesy of Mr. Rilow himself. He let me decorate it when I was six and then
hasn’t let me change anything since,” Thea said bitterly.
Martha looked down at Thea and stroked her short hair. “You really hate him
don’t you?”
Thea teared up a little, “He’s just the worst. He told me and Hänschen that we
have to pretend to be straight which, like, I don’t even know what he’s
thinking. Especially with the tailspins Hänschen can get into sometimes. He
basically told Hänschen that he’d rather Hänsi sleep around with a bunch of
random girls than ever go near any boy and it sucks because Ernst is great and
Hänschen really likes him and you’re great and I really like you and I hoped we
could have these big family dinners, my parents and Ernst and Hänschen and you
and me, and we just can’t.”
Martha smiled sadly and wiped a tear off Thea’s cheek. “There’s a small silver
lining though. You and Hänschen used to hate being around each other. Now
you’re becoming friends.”
“We didn’t hate each other,” Thea rolled her eyes, and Martha laughed a little
at how Thea could go from being mopey to sarcastic in a heartbeat, but stopped
when she realized it was just a defense mechanism, “We just had a good-natured
sibling rivalry. And now we’re just good-natured siblings, helping each other
out. For example, I helped Hänschen sneak out to see Ernst and Hänschen lent me
the joint I smoked before I came over.”
“You used to be so impossible,” Martha said after thinking for a moment. “You
never let anyone see you be anything except sarcastic and angry, just like your
brother. Except his coping mechanism was sleeping with half the school. What
was yours?”
Thea shrugged. “I don’t know, dumb shit like cutting my hair and playing with
matches.” At Martha’s unconvinced look, Thea sighed. “Okay so I started smoking
way early. Like when Hänschen started fucking people, when Wendla and Melchior
were dating, when you were still not out early. I didn’t smoke that often
though. But I uh… I used to… I used to burn myself.”
“Thea...”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Martha nodded and laid down next to her girlfriend. “You didn’t bring any
clothes.”
Thea shrugged. “I can just borrow yours.” Martha opened her mouth to speak, but
Thea pulled her into a cuddle. “Hush now. Just cuddle with me.” Martha smiled
and obliged. Thea tried to just bask in the warmth of her girlfriend’s
affection, but she had to say something before she forgot.
“I’m sorry I look at Ilse and Wendla lot,” Thea said under her breath.
Not turning around, Martha said, “Why do you always look away from them like
you're guilty of something?”
“I feel like I'm doing something wrong. Like we should be that happy.”
Martha turned her head to look at Thea. “Thea, I am that happy. We just don't
need to tell everybody, right?”
Thea pressed a kiss into the back of Martha’s head. “Right, you’re right.” She
smiled into Martha’s neck. “You’re always right.”
 
In trying to figure out what he was going to say, Melchior replayed his entire
relationship and friendship with Moritz in his head. It took him a good two
hours to figure out, but at last, he knew what to do. He walked silently up to
where Moritz sat at the dining room table, still plugging away at his math
homework. Melchior stood there silently for a second, imagining the seemingly
far off days of university, when he and Moritz could live together, studying
and going to campus parties and banging each other until four in the morning.
He shook his head and said, “Please just listen to me.” Moritz stopped moving,
so Melchior continued. “Do you remember the first time we slept together?”
Moritz nodded slightly. “When we were laying in bed after, catching our breath,
I looked over and you were crying. I asked why and you said, ‘I’ve been waiting
for this for so long.’ You have liked me since we have been capable of liking
people, and I spent the better part of ten years being completely oblivious.
Looking back, it makes sense that you came out to me first, that you made out
with Ernst when I started dating Wendla, that you got that smashed and let Ilse
blow you after I fucked Hänschen. You know, hindsight is twenty-twenty.” He
cleared his throat. “People always tell me how smart I am, that I’m blessed
with my intelligence. But I’ve never been particularly good with emotions. I
can’t tell when people like me and when I hurt people I usually don’t know what
I did wrong. Maybe it’s a smart boy thing,” (Moritz laughed under his breath,
thinking how funny it really was that Melchior and Hänschen could probably
solve world hunger, but couldn’t figure out their love lives), “But I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. You just surprised me. I always thought I’d
have to say it first, so I wasn’t sure how to respond. Of course, now that
seems stupid. I should have just told you the truth and the truth is I love
you.”
“Prove it.”
Melchior got down on his knees and put a hand on the edge of Moritz’s leg. “If
I could marry you right now, and be married to you for the rest of my life, I
would, definitely, one hundred percent. I’m all in Moritz.”
Moritz finally turned around, face covered in tear tracks and nose dripping.
“You hurt me really badly Melchi. And you can’t do it again. There’s a whole
world of people who want to hurt me. I don’t need you helping them out.”
Melchior nodded. “Can I kiss you?”
Moritz, instead of answering, leaned down into Melchior. Their lips met in a
gentle, sweet kiss.
 “So,” Melchior said, “Let’s plan some dates.”
“Really?”
“I mean, we can’t just have sex all the time, can we?”
Moritz smiled. “I mean we could, but then nothing would have changed and I’d go
back to wondering if maybe you were just keeping me around to fuck all the
time.”
Melchior’s face fell. “I’m really sorry Moritz. It’s awful that I made you
think that. I love you more than anyone else I’ve ever met.”
“More than Hänschen?”
“Hänschen may be hot, but he’s not exactly loveable.”
“More than Wendla?”
“ Yes  Moritz. More than anyone, ever. I remember I was so terrified when I
asked you out because you still weren’t actually out and I was afraid you’d
think it was just because Wendla was with Ilse and I was jealous and I’d just
fucked Hänschen and you knew and I thought, ‘God why would someone like Moritz
ever want someone like me?’ and I was one hundred percent positive you were
going to say no and–”
Moritz cut him off with a kiss. Melchior smiled and Moritz blushed, still so
easily turning red after all this time. “You were rambling and it’s hard to
stop you when you start rambling.”
Melchior moved to the chair next to Moritz’s at the table. “So date ideas?”
“Well I love going to museums with you because you always try to show that you
know more than the placards and it’s dumb but it’s cute and endearing. And I
like when we do things like, I don’t know, ice skating or rollerblading or
going on a hike or something.”
“So just like, doing something together that isn’t each other?”
Moritz nodded. “Exactly. Although, you know,” Moritz blushed scarlet and
Melchior rubbed his boyfriend’s back, trying to comfort him through what he was
saying, “I still do like being your fuckbuddy.”
“Moritz, you are so much more than that. I love you. You’re not just some hot
guy I know. You’re so many kinds of amazing.” Melchior pressed a quick kiss to
Moritz’s lips.
“Thank you Melchior.”
There was a comfortable silence before Melchior said, “I’m sorry about, you
know, before. Like… I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I’m sorry if I
pressured you. I never want you to feel like you have to.”
“I didn’t Melchi. I mean, I wanted to. I love sleeping with you. Thank you for
apologizing but it’s unnecessary. I love you and everything we do together is
amazing.” He thought for a second before he said, “Except fighting. Let’s not
do that again.”
Melchior smiled. “I’ll try. Want to watch a movie? We can stay up here on the
couch or go downstairs and sit on my bed.”
“Sure. Let’s go downstairs.”
“You sure Mo?”
Moritz nodded. “You mom walking in on us even cuddling would be too
embarrassing for me. So let’s go downstairs and snuggle and watch a movie we’ve
seen a million times.”
“ The Princess Bride ?” Melchior asked, standing up and offering Moritz a hand.
Moritz smiled brighter than the sun. “Absolutely.”
 
Martha and Thea had made their way into Martha’s basement movie/game room and
were cuddling on the couch half-watching reruns on TeenNick. Thea felt Martha
shift a little and turned to face her to see Martha leaning in, one hand on the
zipper of her sweater.
“It’s a little hot, isn’t it?” Martha asked, slowly unzipping her sweater.
Thea’s breath caught in her throat when she saw that Martha wasn’t wearing a
shirt under the sweater, just a lacy red bra.
“Uh…”
“Lost for words?” Martha threw off the jacket and leaned forward, shoulders
first. When Thea nodded Martha said, “That’s a first.”
Thea leaned forward to kiss Martha, but was caught off guard when Martha moved
quickly so she was straddling Thea’s lap.
“Not that I mind,” said Thea as Martha leaned towards her, “But where is all
this coming from?”
Martha sat back. “Don’t...don’t you want this?”
“I wasn’t trying to imply that I didn’t–because I absolutely do–but it’s
very…uncharacteristic of you.”
“Um...uh...well…” Martha started to zip up her sweater, “You know my parents
are divorced.” Thea nodded. “But I’ve never really talked to anyone about why.”
Thea put her hand on Martha’s knee as Martha moved off her lap. “My dad used to
abuse me.”
“Holy–Martha–oh my God. I don’t know what to say other than I’m really sorry
this happened to you.”
Martha nodded. “Thanks babe. There’s nothing to really say but like… everyone
reacts differently to abuse right? So some kids they like totally shut down
sexually right? But I kind of went the other way for a while. My mom and I had
a huge fight in middle school–”
“Hang on. You mean, like,  sexual  abuse?” There was a fire in Thea’s eyes that
would’ve scared Martha if it wasn’t protecting her.
“Thea, please don’t get worked up about it. There’s nothing you can do about it
now and I haven’t even seen my dad in about eight years. I just… I don’t want
to talk about that part. I just want to talk about me. And about us.” Thea
rubbed her arm gently and nodded. “So my mom and I had this huge fight in
middle school about how I was dressing because she thought it was inappropriate
and garnering the ‘wrong’ kind of attention and uh,” Martha looked just over
Thea’s shoulder before she swallowed and continued, “Hänschen’s not the only
one who slept around.”
Thea stared at her, more than a little shocked.
“Please don’t look at me like that Thea. It’s attention, you know? And because
of my dad I thought that the only good kind of attention from boys was sexual
attention and I couldn’t deal with being just friends with any guys because I
felt like I was doing something wrong. I hate doing things wrong. I mean, not
that you don’t know that.”
“I’m sorry Martha.”
“You didn’t do anything. Except, well, actually you helped me. If it wasn’t for
beautiful, snarky you I might have never realized girls are as kissable and
amazing as they are.” Martha pressed a quick kiss to Thea’s lips.
“So… okay.” Thea took a deep breath. “I have a few questions, and they’re not
all great.”
“I’m ready.”
“Do you actually enjoy having sex or do you do it as a coping mechanism?”
“At the time, both. When I realized it was a coping thing I stopped doing it
because I knew that wasn’t a good way to think about it. So I tried to take a
break. And then after a while I figured avoidance wasn’t the best way to cope
but I also wasn’t ready to go back into the whole minefield of high school one-
night stands. So… I mean… you know… I–”
“You did some self exploration?” Thea chucked and Martha smiled sheepishly.
“Okay so that answers my second question. And my third awful question,” Thea
took a deep breath. “You said you couldn’t deal with being just friends so that
means you slept with our guy friends, right? But some of them are gay so… I
don’t know I guess I just want to know who you slept with.”
Martha stared at the floor again. “Thea, I–” She cleared her throat and said,
“Melchior and some other guys at school. You know, randoms. And uh… Hänschen.”
“How come I didn’t know that?”
“I made him promise not to tell anyone. You know, your brother can be really
accommodating and kind when he’s in the mood. Now c’mon. I don’t want to talk
about any of that. I want to focus on you and me.” She leaned in and kissed
Thea. Thea moved to pull Martha onto her lap before she heard a door open.
“Martha? Where are you sweetie?”
“Down here Mom! Come down, you can meet Thea.” Martha turned to Thea and said,
“You’re going to like my mom.”
“I mean, I really like you so I bet I’ll like your mom.”
Martha kissed her again before separating a little before her mom came down the
stairs.
 
After an hour down in the pool, Ilse and Wendla went back up to their room,
giggling and dripping wet. They changed into pajamas and Wendla tied her hair
in a messy top bun. Ilse ran her hands along the dripping ends of her short
hair while Wendla settled on the bed. Ilse got an idea and shook her head like
a dog shaking out water. Wendla laughed when Ilse settled onto the bed next to
her.
“You looked like a puppy.”
“Well puppies like to snuggle don’t they? And I love snuggling.” Ilse curled
up, her head on Wendla’s stomach and her hands resting in her girlfriend’s lap.
She tried not to notice Wendla shifting uncomfortably, but decided she couldn’t
ignore it any longer. She sat up and looked Wendla in the eyes and said,
“What’s wrong?”
Wendla sighed. “You’re going to be mad.”
Ilse rubbed her girlfriend’s arm. “I promise I won’t. Whatever’s making you
feel bad I want to help.”
“I still feel like you’re prettier than me. Like you’re too hot for me.”
“Wendla,” Ilse sighed, “I know all this is complicated but I love you so much.
You’re so beautiful inside and out and I love every part of you, okay?” Wendla
nodded and Ilse smiled. “I know it’s hard for a lot of people to love
themselves. If it’s hard for you, I need you to know I’m here for you, okay?”
Wendla smiled. “I know.” She pressed a short kiss onto Ilse’s lips. “You can
curl back up again if you want to.”
Ilse smiled and resumed her original position. Wendla stroked her hair,
smiling. “I can’t believe this happened to us. I mean, think of everything
we’ve been through. All the stuff we’re still going through. Your parents
splitting, my mom being… you know, my mom, just dealing in general with being a
teenager. Especially a gay teenager in a small town.”
“We got lucky. I can’t believe I found you. You’re everything I need and want.
I love you Wendla.”
“I love you Ilse.”
“Movie?”
“Mmmhmm, sure. Nothing too thoughtful though. I just want to sit here and enjoy
this moment with my girlfriend, a million miles away from everything I could
possibly worry about.” Wendla picked up the TV remote and flipped through the
on-demand selections. “Breakfast Club?”
Ilse smiled. “Sure.” Wendla started the movie and Ilse curled up just a little
closer.


Ernst tried really hard, but he couldn’t sleep. He kept turning over on his
side of the bed, thinking about how to accurately put his discomfort into
words, and how to make Hänschen understand. Finally, at 11:57 Ernst said,
“Hänschen? I have to talk to you about something, and it’s not fun or sexy.”
Hänschen groaned and turned over to face Ernst. “That’s not a great sales
pitch,” he laughed. Ernst could only sort of see in the dark, but he could tell
that Hänschen was genuinely concerned when he said, “What is it?”
“This date–I mean, I know it was originally a trip for you and your sister but
like…. This date was expensive.”
Hänschen shrugged as well as a person can shrug while lying down. “My dad paid
for it. I’m not really sure…”
“It was expensive. We took a train, we went to a four star restaurant, we went
to a museum gallery opening, you took me shopping… those things aren’t cheap
Hänsi.” Hänschen nodded. Ernst cleared his throat and whispered, “I can’t
afford to take you on dates like this.” He looked down at his hands, which were
sitting on his rib cage and could not seem to sit comfortably until a third
hand reached over and took hold of one of Ernst’s. Ernst looked back up at
Hänschen.
“I know,” Hänschen said delicately, “And I don’t expect you to. We don’t have
to do great big things like this all the time.”
Ernst sighed. “But when I’m paying for dates it’s going to be shitty little
things like study dates or Disney movie marathons at my house or Pinkberry–” He
was cut off by a kiss from Hänschen. When he pulled away Hänschen stroked
Ernst’s cheek with his free hand.
“None of that sounds shitty. It all sounds perfect.” Ernst started to protest,
but Hänschen cut him off. “Any date where we’re doing something together is a
perfect date. All I want to do is spend time with you and make you feel as
special as you are. This weekend was a little overboard. I’m sorry.”
Ernst smiled at the compliment and said, “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.
I just wanted to say… I guess… you don’t have to spend money on me Hänsi.”
Hänschen stared at Ernst and thought, chewing his tongue. Finally he said,
“Growing up a Rilow meant that money was love and love was money. When my dad
dropped me or Thea off for martial arts or dance or whatever he was paying for
we always said, ‘Thanks Dad. I love you,’ as we got out of the car, something
we didn’t say if he was taking us to school or away for the weekend. Presents
weren’t just accompanied by the exciting ripping of paper and gushing of
thanks, but also an overwhelming number of ‘I love you’s. I don’t ever remember
a time when I said, ‘I love you,’ that wasn’t directly linked to a present or
some other expenditure of money on me. Until you.” He smiled. “I will try my
best not to spend exorbitant amounts of money on you, especially since you turn
me into a hopeless romantic every time we have a conversation.” He turned back
over. “Now go to sleep Ernst.”
Ernst smiled at his boyfriend’s back. “I love you Hänschen Rilow.”
“I know.” Both boys laughed at Hänschen’s snarky response. A few moments passed
and Hänschen whispered back, “I love you Ernst Robel.”
He thought Ernst was asleep until he heard the soft, “I know,” come from the
other side of the bed.
***** Sunday *****
Chapter Notes
     It's here! And substantially shorter than the other two because
     there's lots of traveling and a group chat. If you don't want to read
     m/m sex skip from "...stopping to suck on his neck" to "As fun as
     this is..."
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Ernst was hard when he woke up. He was used to the many dreams about his
incredibly hot best friend that had dogged him since they were twelve. What he
wasn't used to was his  boyfriend ’s arms wrapped around him when he woke up.
Ernst wiggled a little, thinking that if he could just get up and go to the
bathroom he could deal with his problem, or at least calm down, but to no
avail. Hänschen was stronger than he looked and Ernst couldn't move, so he
decided to just lay there and wait for his boyfriend to wake up.
Ernst thought he would be alright, just absorbing Hänschen’s warmth, until
Hänschen's right hand, which had been sitting on Ernst's hip, trailed towards
Ernst's front and Ernst began to panic. “Hänschen!” Ernst whisper shouted.
“Hänschen!” He couldn't help but gasp and lean into his boyfriend's touch when
Hänschen's hand came to rest on Ernst’s boner. “Hänschen, are you awake?”
For a second that lasted a year, nothing happened. And then all at once,
Hänschen moved and Ernst was trapped under his boyfriend, who was pressing him
into the mattress with a kiss. Hänschen rolled his hips and Ernst groaned at
the feeling of Hänschen's erection rubbing against his. “Yes,” Hänschen said,
smiling down at his shocked boyfriend.
“You asshole!” Ernst said, trying not to smile or groan as Hänschen kept
rolling his hips, “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was,” Hänschen said, smirking at how hard Ernst was biting his lip to try
and control his mouth. “But then someone shouted my name twice. Any idea who
that might've been?” Hänschen smirked and Ernst couldn't help but smile.
“I didn't want you…I guess I didn't want you to...it felt creepy since you were
asleep,” Ernst muttered, barely able to control his breathing with Hänschen's
hip movements.
Finally, Hänschen stopped moving and said, “Well now that I'm awake, do you
want me to—”
“No, you don't have to. I'll just go to the bathroom and—”
“Ernst,” Hänschen said firmly, “I'm not going to let you just go jack off in
the bathroom when it would be my pleasure to do something for you.”
Ernst blushed a little at Hänschen's language. “You don't have to.”
“Look at me Ernst.” Hänschen's green eyes looked hungry. “I want to.” Hänschen
smiled, trying to convey the sincerity of his longing. Finally, Ernst stopped
biting his lip and nodded, smiling.
Hänschen was glad he didn't wear a shirt to bed because it meant he only had to
whip off Ernst’s t-shirt before he felt the delicious sensation of Ernst’s warm
skin pressed against his. He left a sloppy trail of kisses down and back up
Ernst's torso, stopping to suck on his neck.
When Hänschen's hand drifted back over Ernst's boner and one finger lightly
started tracing his length through the thin boxers, Ernst thought he was going
to die. “Hänschen,” he practically whispered, “Can you please not tease me? I'm
already so on edge and I can't…”
Hänschen captured his boyfriend’s lips and said, “Sure. I'm sorry. And Ernst?
Don't ever be afraid to ask.”
Hänschen pulled down his boyfriend’s boxers and immediately swallowed down
Ernst’s whole length. The groan Ernst released was a mixture of pleasure and
relief. Hänschen hummed a little and Ernst groaned louder. As Hänschen bobbed
his head and swirled his tongue sinfully, Ernst tangled his fingers into the
blonde’s hair. Hänschen scraped his teeth gently and Ernst almost shouted.
Remembering what Hänschen had said, Ernst gasped, “Do that again please.”
Smiling at Ernst's rapidly vanishing shyness, Hänschen repeated the movement
and felt Ernst's fingers tighten on his hair. He ran his hands up and down
Ernst's sides and Ernst whispered, “Hänsi, I'm…I'm close.” Hänschen hummed in
acknowledgement and when he grabbed Ernst’s ass suddenly, he felt more than he
saw Ernst’s back arch. He tried not to move as Ernst’s come filled his mouth
and he pulled off when Ernst’s body went limp with a sigh. Hänschen barely had
time to swallow before Ernst pulled him into a kiss. “You taste funny. Like me,
I guess.” Ernst titled his head, thinking, before he shook it and pulled up his
boxers, smiling. “Your turn,” he said, before he flipped over so his boyfriend
was beneath him.
“You don't have to Ernst.”
“But,” Ernst said, grinning, “I want to. I really want to.” His hands drifted
immediately to Hänschen's boxers, which he slowly slipped down. He trailed his
hands over Hänschen's torso and thighs, gently stroking him once before
lowering his head down to slowly take Hänschen into his mouth. Slowly, Ernst
slid down, dragging his lips gently over his boyfriend's length as he slowly
moved up and down. He trailed his hands up to Hänschen's pecs, gently massaging
the muscles before tracing a finger over each of his nipples. “You're so
beautiful,” Ernst whispered, breath ghosting over Hänschen's erection. Hänschen
shivered from the feeling and the praise. “The most beautiful boy I've ever
seen.” Ernst’s words sent an electric shock through Hänschen's entire body.
Ernst looked at Hänschen, his shy smile completely at odds with his totally
blown pupils. He leaned forward again, still sucking tantalizingly slowly.
Hänschen began to say something before Ernst sped up. Hänschen gasped and tried
to hold on.
“Ernst,” Hänschen whispered, “I'm close.”
Ernst hummed slightly and swallowed as Hänschen came. He slid back up to rest
next to his boyfriend and smiled at him. “As fun as this is,” he almost
whispered, “we should probably get ready to go home.”
Hänschen kissed Ernst and said with a smile, “You taste like me.” Ernst giggled
and Hänschen smiled even wider, “And you're right. We should pack, have
breakfast, and, unfortunately, head home.”
Ernst stood up. He reached for his shirt but stopped at the noise Hänschen
made. “You don't want me to put a shirt on?” Hänschen shook his head, a little
abashed, and Ernst smiled. “I won't if you don't, but you have to actually
pack.”
Hänschen sighed sarcastically and stood up. “Whatever you say darling. After
all, I did just have a pretty spectacular weekend with my pretty spectacular
boyfriend.” He kissed Ernst gently and started to pack.
 
Thea woke up at 6:00, an hour earlier than she usually woke up for school.
Usually, she and Hänschen would roll out of bed at 7:00 to their father
shouting that there was no way they would be ready in a half hour and if they
were late they wouldn’t go anywhere in life. Every morning both of them would
be ready at 7:30. Neither of them had ever been late and contrary to popular
belief, they rarely skipped. Hänschen had skipped mostly in eighth grade and
Thea had done it for a while in ninth grade but, despite as badass as the
Rilows seemed, they liked school. Even on the worst days it was better than
home.
Thea and Martha had fallen asleep on the couch, leaning on each other and
talking until two in the morning. Thea smiled at her sleeping girlfriend and
marveled at how close they’d gotten in a year. Thea had never been as close to
anyone as she was to Martha. Thea knew it was probably because Martha was her
first girlfriend, but she couldn’t imagine a more perfect person to be with.
She heard plenty of girls complaining about not being their partner’s first,
but Thea didn’t care. Small things like that didn’t matter. Four random guys
didn’t matter to Martha as much as Thea did and Thea knew it. She brushed
Martha’s hair out of her face and whispered, “Good morning beautiful.”
To Thea’s slight surprise, Martha sat up and yawned, stretching her back. She
blinked at Thea and smiled. “Good morning darling,” she said with a kiss to
Thea’s nose.
“It’s mad early, but I need to get home before my dad.”
Martha searched the ground for her phone and checked the news. “Roads are
clear, so we could walk somewhere for breakfast before you have to go home.”
Thea was standing and stretching her back, but she smirked at Martha
nonetheless. “For someone who didn’t want me to come over, you don’t seem to
want me to leave.”
Martha stood up and raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble
because I care about you doofus. But I also want you to eat, because I care
about you and I know you won’t if you go home.” She kissed Thea quickly and
went up the stairs, Thea following closely behind. They climbed the two flights
from the basement to Martha’s room as quietly as possible so they didn’t wake
up Martha’s mother. When they reached Martha’s room, Thea turned her back so
Martha could change. When Martha threw a shirt at her gently, Thea turned
around to face her, confused and holding the shirt in her hands. “Well, put it
on silly.”
“Martha, it’s fine I don’t need––”
“You wore that shirt yesterday and slept in it,” Martha said, “ And  it still
smells like weed. So change.” Thea was chewing on her tongue, clearly still on
the fence. “What?”
Scratching her neck, Thea said, “Hänschen’s going to ask if I slept with you if
I wear your shirt, and I don’t really want to talk about sex with my brother.”
Martha rolled her eyes. “Then just change when you get home or ignore him. Just
please, put the shirt on.” Martha’s eyes got wide and she stuck out her bottom
lip.
“Unfair,” Thea said, turning around and pulling at her shirt. “You know pouting
in unfair.” Thea pulled Martha’s shirt on and pulled her hair out of the
collar. Martha’s purple shirt had three buttons down the front and short
sleeves. It sat loosely on Thea’s shoulders and definitely did not match her
leather jacket. Martha smiled.
“You look cute in that shirt. Keep it.”
Thea made a face. “Thanks, but I’ll be giving this back. It doesn’t really fit
my look and I don’t like the way it sits on me. It looks cute on you.”
“Okay. It’s a good color for you though. And it’s loose in some places. Makes
you look… I don’t know… mysterious.”
Thea raised an eyebrow and smirked, taking a step closer. In rare moments, Thea
could turn on the same flirtatious and hyper-confident mode her brother could,
making her seem all the more gorgeous and enigmatic. “You don’t like my tight
clothes?”
Sometimes it was hard for Thea to see if Martha was blushing because of her
girlfriend’s darker complexion, but it was clear even as she smirked back that
Martha was flustered. “Of course I do. I like your tight clothes. A lot.” She
slipped a hand onto Thea’s waist and pulled her in for a kiss. When she pushed
back she said, “Breakfast time!”
The two girls bundled up and pushed as best they could through the snow to
reach the diner about halfway between their two houses. When they reached the
warmth of the empty diner, they unbundled quickly and sat down in a booth.
“What’re you getting?” Martha asked over her menu.
Thea shrugged. “Probably an omelette or a parfait.” She caught sight of
Martha’s glare and sighed. “What?”
Martha rolled her eyes and Thea thought her attitude and sarcasm might be
rubbing off on Martha. “Don’t you ever treat yourself to something you really
want?”
Thea cocked her head and smiled. “Yes. Despite all my dad’s threats I’m still
here having a good time with my beautiful, amazing, sweet girlfriend.”
Smiling, Martha leaned over the table and kissed Thea’s forehead. “Fine. Get
your low calorie diner breakfast. I’m getting waffles.”
The waitress took their orders and the girls sat in their booth, knees brushing
under the table.
“Martha?”
“Yeah?” Thea opened her mouth and didn’t respond. She shook her head and looked
at the table. “Thea, what?”
“Hänschen figured out we’re dating.”
“That’s okay. The only person we can’t let figure out is your dad. Other than
that, we’re good.” Thea looked a little confused. “What?”
Thea’s hazel eyes locked with Martha’s brown ones. “I love you.”
Martha grinned and said, “I love you too Thea.”
Their food came and both girls started eating. They were slowed by the fact
that they only had one hand to eat with, since their other hands were tangled
in each other’s. As sarcastic and closed-off as they could both be, neither
could stop smiling.
 
Ilse’s arm was asleep, but Ilse wasn’t. She was cuddled around Wendla, whose
head, hidden behind a tangled mess of brown curls, was resting on Ilse’s upper
arm. It was 8:00, and the drive home from the hotel was about an hour and a
half. Before Ilse had fallen asleep she had promised her mother that she and
Wendla would be home before 2:00. At the latest, they could leave at 12:30.
Ilse smiled at her girlfriend and planned on letting her sleep until she had to
get up, but then Wendla moved.
“Ugh… what time is it?” Wendla asked into Ilse’s arm.
“Early. Go back to sleep,” Ilse said, but Wendla turned over to face her,
smiling wide.
“This was a great weekend. Even if we didn't get to see the concert. I had so
much fun spending time with just you.”
“I always love spending time with you,” Ilse said before she kissed Wendla’s
nose.
“Plus, with my mom always around and midterms approaching this may be the only
time we can do anything sexy for a while,” Wendla added.
Ilse pretended to groan. “So I'll just have to spend quality time with my
girlfriend? Gross!”
“Oh shut up.” Wendla curled up again so Ilse was spooning her. “How do you
think everyone else's weekends are going?”
“Well Hänschen has probably thoroughly de-virginized Ernst,” Ilse laughed.
“You really think so? Ernst is so… Ernst.”
“Ernst has been in love with Hänschen forever and Hänschen is Hänschen so yeah,
probably. Thea most likely didn't get caught sneaking out to Martha’s house—”
“When are those two gonna get it together and start dating?” Wendla laughed.
“Honestly, they're worse than Hänschen and Ernst were.”
“Thea will admit to having feelings the same day Hänschen stops caring about
his appearance.”
Wendla laughed again. “That's true. So who's left… Melchior and Moritz
definitely had sex, especially if the snow trapped them together. Anna was at
her dad’s, Otto and Georg were grounded, and we were here.”
Ilse stretched. “So it's between us and Hänschen and Ernst for who had the best
weekend?” Wendla nodded and turned over to kiss Ilse. “You want breakfast?”
“Can we order room service?” Wendla whined, “I really don't want to leave your
cuddles until I have to.”
“Fine,” Ilse huffed in fake exasperation, turning over to pick up the room
service menu.
 
It was a testament to how much Melchior loved Moritz (and how late they had
stayed up watching movies and throwing popcorn and cuddling) that he slept
until 10:00 the morning after their fight. He woke up, for the second day in a
row, with Moritz cuddled against his chest. Melchior sighed happily, pressed a
kiss to the back of Moritz’s head, and whispered, “Morning Mo.”
Moritz turned around so quickly Melchior almost smacked his head on the
headboard in shock. “Thank goodness you’re finally awake. I’ve been lying here
for like an hour and a half waiting for you to wake up so I could move.”
“Why didn’t you just get up?” Melchior asked, laughing and still blinking
through his initial shock.
“One, you’re so much stronger than you look.” Moritz punctuated the sentence
with a kiss to Melchior’s arm. “Two, it was comfy and I’m lazy. And three,
other than last night this is the first time we’ve just cuddled in so long.” He
nuzzled the top of his head against Melchior’s chest before leaning back to
kiss him.
Melchior stared at him, the love in his blue eyes mirroring the love in
Moritz’s brown ones. “I love you Moritz Stiefel.”
“I love you too Melchior Gabor,” Moritz said, grinning wider than Melchior
thought possible, “but I also really have to pee, so if you could let me go…”
Melchior released Moritz, who almost ran to the bathroom. Melchior sat up,
leaning against the headboard and thinking about how  fucking lucky  he had
gotten when he sat down on the first day of kindergarten next to a boy who had
stutteringly introduced himself as Moritz Stiefel.
Moritz walked back in, shaking water off his hands and Melchior smiled at him.
“I’m so lucky Moritz.”
“Lucky how?” Moritz asked, climbing back onto the bed and sitting down facing
Melchior.
“Lucky because I have you. Lucky because I’ve done so many crappy things to you
accidentally and you’ve given me third and fourth and fifth and twentieth
chances. Lucky because at the end of the day, no matter what bad things happen,
I can smile and say, ‘I am lucky enough to be in love with Moritz Stiefel.’”
“And,” Moritz said, grinning so wide his eyes were crinkling, “You can say,
‘And lucky enough that Moritz Stiefel is in love with me too.’” He leaned
forward and kissed Melchior gently, tangling his fingers in his boyfriend’s
hair when Melchior pushed his tongue into his mouth. “Mmm–Melchior.”
“Moritz,” Melchior said as Moritz’s fingers brushed against his bare abs.
“Melchior,” Moritz gasped, his head tipping back as Melchior’s lips and fingers
traveled along the edges of his neck.
“Moritz,” Melchior whined when Moritz’s fingertips brushed gently over his
nipples.
“Melchior! Moritz!” Mrs. Gabor called down the stairs and both boys froze,
petrified of being walked in on. “Roads are clear! Time for Moritz to head
home.”
Moritz sprang across the room. “Coming Mrs. Gabor!”
“I  wish  you were coming,” Melchior whispered. Moritz’s initial look of shock
faded into a loving smile at Melchior’s smirk. Moritz got dressed and Melchior
drifted over to him. “Are you sure you can't stay?” he asked, eyes pleading and
fingers pulling at the bottom Moritz's shirt.
Moritz leaned into Melchior's touch but still said, “You know I can't. My dad
will flip if I'm not home as soon as physically possible.” He kissed Melchior.
“See you Monday.”
“You don't want me to walk you?”
“I'll be fine Melchior. I'm a big boy, I promise.” Moritz stopped on the
stairs, watching Melchior’s pout. “Do you want me to text you that I'm safe?”
“Please?”
Moritz nodded, and this time when he left the basement he smiled a silent
goodbye and a silent “I love you” as he left, to Melchior’s absolute delight.
 
“You dragged me ten blocks out of the way with my luggage for hot chocolate?”
Ernst’s face was red from the cold as he sipped from his whipped cream topped
cup.
“Is it good?” Hänschen asked, holding his own cup close to his face.
“It’s definitely not ten blocks out of the way good.”
Hänschen shrugged. “To each his own I guess.”
“Do you think it’s worth a ten block walk?”
Hänschen set his drink down and leaned back in his seat, looking around the
cozy shop. “It’s one of the few places I have good memories of my whole family.
Dad would buy us hot chocolate and me and Thea would make fun of Mom for
falling down on the ice.” He sighed. “Even when we come into the city without
them, me and Thea always come here and get hot chocolate. It’s one of the few
places I ever remember actually feeling like people cared about me.” Hänschen
blinked and looked away, trying to hide the tears welling in his eyes.
Ernst looked at Hänschen, a boy who was more sensitive than anyone (other than
Ernst) ever gave him credit for, and said, “Hänsi that’s–”
“Stupid, I know,” Hänschen said roughly, wiping his eyes quickly, still not
looking at Ernst. “Sentimental bullshit.”
“I was going to say sweet. It’s important to you.” While he tried to look like
he didn’t care, Hänschen’s hand was still resting on the table and Ernst
covered it with his. “And I want to thank you for sharing an amazing weekend
and an important place with me.”
Hänschen looked at Ernst, his face unreadable. “Fuck,” Hänschen said, “How do
you do that? How do you always know the right thing to say? How are you so…
nice  all the time?”
Ernst shrugged. “How are you so smart? How is it so easy for you to just be
cool and popular?” Hänschen heard the question behind the words and was glad
Ernst hadn’t said what he actually meant.  How is it so easy for you to get
with people?  Hänschen didn’t want to think about any of that anymore. All he
wanted to think about was Ernst. “How are you so hot all the time?”
Hänschen leaned across the table and kissed Ernst and some college girls a few
tables away said, “Awww!” Ernst turned bright red, but Hänschen flashed them a
smile before checking his phone.
“Train boards in fifteen minutes, let’s go.” He led Ernst down to the train
station, wrapping his arm around the brunette boy’s waist. When they boarded
their train, both tucked their luggage up above them and snuggled into each
other before Ernst’s phone chimed. A second later, so did Hänschen’s.
“Group chat, probably,” Ernst said into the side of Hänschen’s chest.
“Mmhmm,” Hänschen agreed, “But we should probably check it.”
Both boys pulled out their phones to see a message from Melchior.
 
Melmel: Everyone except Anna Otto & Georg hung out with ppl this weekend,
right?
Yoda: I was at my dad’s house so….
von Bismarck:  not my fault I was grounded!
Piano Boy: uh, yeah it was
best of all: Didn’t stop Thea lol
Memel: Anyway, if everyone spent the weekend together, what’s the group virgin
count down to?
Piano Boy: dude wtf
‘ritz cracker: really Melchi?
Melmel: C’mon, we’re all friends
Baby Rilow: One
Yoda: Two
von Bismarck: three
Piano Boy: four
The Importance of Being: Five
Peter Pan: really Ernst?!
Peter Pan’s girlfriend: HA! Told you Ils
Melmel: Damn, I owe Mo five bucks
Händsi: Do you all really think I’d ruin Ernst so quickly?
Peter Pan: yes
Melmel: Yeah
Baby Rilow: Pretty much
The Importance of Being: guys! Hänschen was a total gentleman this weekend omg
Händsi: Plus I sucked you off
Baby Rilow: Hänschen!
Händsi: Twice
The Importance of Being: Hänschen!
Händsi: Not the first time today you’re screaming my name ;)
Händsi: Ernst just punched me then stood up and walked away but left his
luggage here so he’ll be back
Melmel: Mo just texted me, “We need better friends.”
Baby Rilow: Hänschen you gotta stop with this shit
Händsi: You get all up in arms when I keep secrets, and all angry when I share.
The Importance of Being: They were up in arms because you were hooking up with
sketchy people and we were all worried for your safety
Baby Rilow: Yeah, we wanted to make sure you weren't taking unnecessary risks
‘ritz cracker: and Melchi was worried you had an alcohol problem
Melmel: MORITZ
Händsi: And you're not worried about me unnecessarily endangering Ernst?
Peter Pan: I trust Ernst more than I trust Albert Munsch
Peter Pan’s girlfriend: Ditto
Piano Boy: same
best of all: yeah I'd trust Ernst to protect himself
Händsi: Wait Ernst are you going to come back to your seat?
Händsi: Ernst just came back to his seat
Händsi: He said  he  gets to decide how much we get to share with the chat
The Importance of Being: and then I kissed him <3
Peter Pan’s girlfriend: Awwww
‘ritz cracker: speaking of couply stuff
‘ritz cracker: Melchi and I are going public about dating!!
Peter Pan’s girlfriend: what
Piano Boy: had you not been public before this
Melmel: Mo...
‘ritz cracker: what?
The Importance of Being: Everyone already knows Moritz
‘ritz cracker: not everyone
Händsi: dude Bobby Maler made jokes about it literally everyone knows
Peter Pan's girlfriend: you got caught making out in a staircase by three
different janitors
von Bismarck: yeah, and me!
‘ritz cracker: whatever you guys are so mean
Melmel: I love you Moritz
‘ritz cracker: <3
Handsi: How come they get to be all PDA?
The Importance of Being: because their PDA isn't over sharing hansi
Händsi: Can I text you over shares?
The importance of being: sure
Handsi: ;)
Yoda: y'all are gross. Why can't you be like Peter Pan and Wendy over here
Peter Pan's girlfriend: we're pretty disgustingly gross in person
Peter pan's girlfriend: Ilse agrees but she can't type because we're on the
highway
Yoda: couples are gross
 
Ilse and Wendla were about twenty minutes from Wendla’s house. The drive had
been very musical, with Wendla shouting lyrics and Ilse drumming on the
steering wheel. Wendla finally turned down the radio and smiled at Ilse. “I had
a great weekend Ils, even if we didn’t get to go to the concert, and it’s
because of you.”
Ilse smiled, still facing the road. “Glad to hear it. Are you sure it was
because of me though? It might just have been the hotel.”
Wendla rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because the hotel invited me to stay at her
beach house over the summer, and the hotel took me to a fancy lunch, and the
hotel complimented how I looked in everything I wore, and the hotel went down
on me first thing in the morning.”
Ilse’s smile broadened into a grin. “I was wondering if you were going to
mention that.”
“Mention it? It’s all I can think about! It took so much self control not to
tell the whole group chat about it. I never want to do anything else again.”
Wendla sighed, slumping back in her seat. “I wish my mom was more chill and you
could sleep over at all.”
“Midterms are coming up though.”
“Then I’m going to need stress relief!”
Ilse laughed at Wendla’s frown. “You’re ridiculous. Friday morning you would
barely talk about sex and now you’re begging for it.”
“I am  not  begging.”
“You know, you can do it all by yourself Wendla. Just your hands and your
imagination.”
“And you think that’ll do justice to the feeling of another person? Honestly
Ils, you have no idea how incredibly you are, because I’ll never be able to
replicate it.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Ilse said, reaching out for Wendla’s hand with one
of her own. “You were pretty amazing too.”
“I didn’t know what I was doing,” Wendla mumbled into her shoulder.
“Then it will only get better with time and soon you’ll be mind blowing at it.”
Ilse finally took her eyes off the road to smile at Wendla. “It’s not as
important as society pretends, but I’m glad we did it. I had fun.”
Wendla kissed her before pushing her face back to the road. “No car accidents
because we were talking about sex.”
Ilse laughed, and they were silent for a minute, just appreciating the
existence of the other.
“When are we going to be able to do it again Ils?”
“If you come over to my place after school to ‘study’ before my mom gets home
we probably could.”
“I don’t have a shift on Tuesday.”
“Sounds good.” Ilse merged into the exit lane. “We’re about three minutes from
your house.”
Wendla sighed, and then sat up straight as if struck by lightning. “Ilse!”
“What? What’s wrong?” Ilse sounded as panicked as Wendla.
“What if my mom can tell?”
Ilse started laughing and tried to stop, but found that she couldn’t.
“It’s not funny…” Wendla whined. “What if she knows we had sex?”
“Did she ‘know’ when Melchior felt you up? When I kissed you? When I felt you
up?” Wendla shook her head. “It’s all just a construct. It’s not something you
can see or ‘know.’ I promise.”
Wendla sighed. “Okay.” They turned onto her street and Ilse stopped outside
Wendla’s house. “I love you.” Wendla kissed Ilse and hopped out of the car,
running up the steps to her house and blowing Ilse a kiss before she
disappeared inside. Ilse turned the radio up and smiled, driving away and
looking forward to Tuesday afternoon.
 
Melchior had finished his homework, called Moritz, gone over the homework with
Moritz, eaten dinner, and watched an episode of Law and Order SVU, and it was
still only 7:30. He sighed and collapsed on his bed, wondering if he could fall
asleep from sheer boredom until his phone rang. He picked it up without looking
at the name. “Hello?”
“Melchior?” Hänschen asked.
“Who else do you expect when you call my phone?”
“I don’t know, you sounded funny. Any way, how did your weekend go?”
“Fine. Moritz and I worked out all our weird shit.”
“Did you talk about me?”
“No. I wasn’t going to bring that up when there wasn’t a reason.”
“Yeah, okay,” Hänschen nodded.
“How was your weekend?” Melchior asked, more to continue the conversation than
because he cared.
“Pretty good. Just dropped Ernst off at home, so now I get to go home and deal
with a pissy, grounded Thea and a quiet, angry Mom and an angry, tired Dad,
which will really be the highlight of my weekend.” Hänschen sighed, and
Melchior felt a compulsion to make him feel better.
“Really? I thought sucking Ernst off would’ve been the highlight.” Melchior
smacked himself in the face before he heard Hänschen laughing.
“It’s between that and him sucking me off.”
Melchior laughed back before he said, “Seriously though, if it ever gets, you
know, bad at home I’ve got a ton of space here and I’m sure my mom really
wouldn’t mind.”
“Thanks Melchior, but it’s all good for now, especially with Ernst. I never
realized how comforting being with another person could be, you know? Just
knowing another person cares about you.”
Melchior chuckled a little and said, “Hänschen, you and Ernst have been dating
for four days.”
“Oh shut up. It’s more than that, and you know it.”
“Yeah. I lost the bet first. I thought you would actually figure your shit out
a lot earlier. Actually, I thought you’d hook up with him and then he’d talk to
you about feelings and you’d be like, ‘Oh yeah, feelings. I have those too.’”
“Fuck off. I’m at my house. Talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
Hänschen hung up as he handed the cab driver money and stepped out of the car,
looking at his house. He slammed the front door so everyone would know he was
home before running up the stairs. He threw his suitcase into his room and
knocked on Thea’s door.
“What?” Thea yelled.
“It’s me you little shit. Let me in.” The door opened and Hänschen stepped past
a very sheepish looking Thea.
“Sorry. I thought you were Dad.”
“Clearly. You haven’t yelled at me like that in a week.”
Thea shut the door and walked over to her bed. “So you and Ernst had a good
weekend?”
Hänschen sat down in Thea’s desk chair. “Yeah. We went ice skating, I took him
to that really nice bookstore, and we got hot chocolate.”
“You took him to Hot Cup? Wow, you really like him.”
“Shut up.” Hänschen threw a shirt off the desk at Thea before he looked at it.
“Isn’t that Martha’s?”
“Ye–how did you know that?” Thea said. “Wait, never mind. I know.”
“You know?”
“Yeah. Martha and I talked about stuff. I know you and her had sex.”
Hänschen’s voice dropped from its usual callousness to something with more
delicacy. “Are you okay?”
“Well, I can’t exactly change it, can I? And it’s not like you guys are still
having sex, and it’s not like she cheated on me with you. I know she likes me,
and I like her. And you don’t like her, so it’s all fine. It’s not awkward or
whatever. Besides, what kind of girlfriend would I be if I judged my girlfriend
for hooking up with someone who everyone seems to find attractive? And what
kind of sister would I be if I judged my brother for hooking up with a girl who
is definitely really hot? So yeah, I don’t care.”
“You know it wasn’t a one time thing, right?”
Thea shrugged. “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me who she fucked in the
past, so long as the right is now mine exclusively.”
“Speaking of, I’m guessing that’s why you have her shirt?”
Thea rolled her eyes. “She forced it on me because my shirt smelled like weed
and she didn’t want me to wear the same shirt for two days in a row. Oh, here’s
your lighter.” She pulled the silver lighter out of her pocket and tossed it at
Hänschen.
“She’s really something, huh?”
“Yeah. Now get out. I want to read.”
Hänschen left and was closing the door to his own room when his phone rang.
“Ernst?”
“Hänschen the book I picked is sooooo good! I just wanted to thank you for it
again, and for a great weekend.”
“I know another way you can thank me,” Hänschen said, allowing suggestiveness
to color his words, and he could almost see the other boy blushing on the other
end. “It’s no problem babe. I had a great weekend too. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He hung up and collapsed on his bed. It really had been a great weekend.
Chapter End Notes
     Nicknames just in case
     Melmel–Melchior
     Yoda–Anna (because she's small but wise)
     von Bismarck–Otto
     Piano Boy–Georg
     best of all–Martha (because it kind of sounds like Bessell)
     'ritz cracker–Moritz
     Baby Rilow–Thea
     The Importance of Being–Ernst
     Peter Pan–Ilse
     Peter Pan's Girlfriend-Wendla (because of Wendy Darling)
     Händsi–Hänschen
     There will be another installment in this series soon! The next thing
     I plan on posting is a prequel, which I might post a teaser for on
     tumblr. The working title is Like a Virgin. Get hype
End Notes
     Contact me at hopingforaword.tumblr.com with prompts/ideas/comments.
     Thanks for reading!
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