Notes:Written for challenge #19 (Red) for the LJ comm 30kisses. Fluff set pre-series, so is automatically semi-AU, I suppose. :) Title is taken from the Ed Harcourt song of the same name.

----

"If the world did end
Would you be my apocalyptic friend?
Navigate to the moon
Flee the planet this afternoon
Until tomorrow then"

-'Until Tomorrow Then', by Ed Harcourt

----

Franz had never really developed a liking for wine, though it was not for lack of trying. After all, he'd been given a glass of it with most meals since he was about seven years old.

It was just, he'd always thought, a rather unpleasant tasting drink.

"It's just something you need to acquire the taste for," the adults had always said.

"Well," Franz would reply, "if I need to learn to like it, it can't be all that nice to start with, don't you think?" This would inevitably prompt a disappointed shake of the head, and a 'you'll see when you're older.'

Franz thought they didn't really know what they were talking about.

But he didn't care what anyone else said about it, because he knew that Albert shared his view. And, really, knowing that Albert was on his side... that was the most important thing.

----

A few years later however, and it turned out that this wasn't quite the case.

"...You're serious?" Franz shot Albert a pained look and slumped down onto the sofa behind him. "You're really serious?"

The heat must be getting to them both - because either Albert was going crazy, or Franz was hearing things.

"Of course!" Ah - the utterly honest, slightly indignant surprise - well, that was normal Albert all over. Franz supposed he just had to be imagining this conversation, then. But Albert was walking over to him and gesturing wildly, talking enthusiastically about -- something -- and all Franz could wonder was how he managed to be so energetic in this weather, when he could barely muster the strength to stand.

"Wait, wait..." Franz muttered, and Albert's rant abruptly cut off as he paused to look down at Franz's distraction in surprise.

"What?"

"Could you start again... and make more sense this time?"

"Oh." Albert grinned and blushed, slightly embarrassed. "Right." He finally seemed to realise the temperature and shrugged off his jacket, flopping down next to Franz, hand fiddling with the buttons on his shirt before releasing the first few. "Come on, Franz... you know what I'm getting at."

Franz didn't actually, not at all - and it was somewhat harder to try and pay attention (though he was trying this time, really) when Albert was leaning back carelessly, cheeks flushed, with just a touch of tanned skin revealed where he'd loosened his collar.

"I suppose." he bit his lip and stared at the ceiling fan up above, which whirred and rotated aimlessly, simply circulating the tepid air.

"Look at it this way: we're leaving for Luna next month, right? Just think about it! Don't you consider it just a little childish that we still have this aversion to wine? We're fifteen; it's weird." Albert paused and glanced at Franz expectantly; the latter gave up trying to appear interested in the ceiling, and smiled reluctantly.

"It's that important?"

Truthfully, Franz already half-knew where this was going (some of Albert's earlier ramblings had filtered through, it seemed) and already knew that he'd agree to it. Refusing Albert wasn't something he did very often, after all. But, still...

He watched, trying to keep a straight face as his friend visibly became more and more frustrated with the lack of response. Franz remained silent a moment longer - taking care to look visibly bored - a little cruel perhaps, but Albert was so easy to tease. Franz noticed the precise moment Albert realised he was being wound up, and didn't even bother moving to try and avoid the half-hearted swipe to his shoulder that accompanied the glare.

"Sorry, sorry!" Franz stifled a laugh and tried his best to look apologetic - though they both knew he was nothing of the sort - and Albert sniffed, slightly mollified.

"So as I was saying, we might as well get out of Paris - just for an afternoon, though - and sort this out. You're coming, right?"

Franz would remember that moment for a long time - Albert, so close, gazing at him expectantly (it had barely been a question, after all) olive skin slightly sticky with sweat in the heat, and the lazy afternoon sun falling down across dishevelled brown hair.

"Yeah." It was amazing, really - one word in response, and Albert was grinning in triumph, visibly delighted.

And of course Franz would never tell him, but really, being able to see that was all that mattered.

----

"Here?" Franz jumped off the bike, somewhat glad the wonderful-hell of being almost pressed up against Albert for nearly two hours was finally over. He shivered, and tried to focus on their surroundings.

He had to admit, it was beautiful - unlike Paris, the air was so clear; the sky unmarked by tall dirty buildings and vehicles. Leaving Paris might not be 'the done thing', but... he was glad Albert had suggested it.

"Yeah," Albert gave him an oddly strained smile, before shaking his head slightly and pointing out into... a field. "There, technically." He grabbed his bag and set off through the shadows of the plane trees which lined the sides of the roads.

Franz stared after him for a moment before following, slightly confused.

"Here!" Albert declared, this time with an air of certainty. Franz gazed around as Albert simply sat down in the dirt, and realised that he'd been led into a vineyard. "Appropriate, huh?" And this time the grin Albert gave him was genuine, and somewhat proud.

The sun was warm and bright, and he could see that the vines, which were arranged into neat rows, stretched on for miles.

"Hey," He glanced down to see Albert waving a glass at him impatiently, "sit down!"

It was hardly the most comfortable of places to sit and have a drink, but he supposed it was... atmospheric. Or something of the sort; no doubt that had been Albert's intention.

Franz grinned and stole Albert's glass before the other could protest - Albert had brought several bottles with him, it seemed, and had started by opening up a red; fitou, apparently, not that it really meant much to Franz. They all tasted the same anyway.

"So!" Albert had recovered from the theft, and procured another glass for himself - he raised it, and Franz watched as the translucent wine sparkled crimson in the sunlight, "this is the perfect place to learn to appreciate wine, don't you think?"

----

"Hey, Franz..." Albert's voice was slurred; a soft lilt tugging at the edges of his words, but curious and oddly calm. There was a pause, and Franz tilted his head slightly to peer at the other's profile - so close to his own - with the thick, twisted roots of the vines spiralling up behind him, green leaves rustling in the faint breeze. There was a short intake of breath, and then Albert spoke again, "... you like me, don't you?"

The question was unexpected and caught him off guard. What...? The mood had shifted, and Franz was rapidly beginning to feel uneasy.

"What? Why--"

"Driving," Albert said abruptly, and then turned his own head to catch Franz's eye, before returning to staring up at the sky.

Even through the warm haze of the red wine, Franz was suddenly aware of how lumpy and hard the dirt beneath him was; hot, dry, and digging into his back. Lying down had seemed like such a good idea earlier; their heads together, each sprawled in a different direction. But he felt sick now, and waited for Albert to elaborate.

"On the way out here... you know?" Another pause, and Franz was beginning to guess what he might be getting it.

"Albert..."

"I know, I know... it's stupid. It's not much. I'm an idiot, right? Like always... but you nearly fell - twice! - and you still wouldn't hold on to me. Is it that weird?"

Albert sounded frustrated, and Franz could see his flush from the wine deepen in colour; pink spots high on his cheeks - though he looked more anxious than embarrassed.

"It's not that..." Franz trailed off, uncertain as to what he could say without making things worse. What response did Albert want? Anything he could think of was either insulting or would invite awkwardness and... questions.

Ripples of white, soft cloud floated overhead, marring the clear blue. Franz wished they'd go away, trying to distract himself with the thought.

"Then what?"

Persistent, so persistent... Franz always wondered how Albert could feel things so deeply; so completely all the time. He'd always been so quick to laugh, cry, or get angry.

A hand suddenly reached over and landed on Franz's own, which lay up near his head.

So impulsive, too...

"...Albert."

"What?" The voice was challenging, almost petulant, and Franz swallowed hard as he shut his eyes.

Albert's hand had fastened awkwardly onto his own; warm, rough with dried-on mud, and he knew without even looking that the nails would be bitten and uneven. Definitely the hands of a teenage boy; or, of Albert.

Franz grimaced, unable to tell if God loved or despised him that he was destined to be so sweetly tortured. Then, the fleeting grip was gone, and Franz was left with an empty hand and the uncomfortable heat of the sun beating down upon him. The vine leaves rustled in the silence. Of course, he knew it couldn't have lasted.

"Is it really so bad, touching me?"

The familiar voice was demanding again; so direct, low and determined. He felt the sun disappear and opened his eyes, only to see that Albert had sat up and was leaning over him; hands either side of Franz's head, an upside-down vision of tanned skin and steady blue eyes.

Franz felt his breath catch in his throat, murmuring, "...I've never thought so."

Albert seemed to deliberate for only a second before descending; a clumsy kiss that only half landed on Franz's lips. It was short, but Franz could taste the red wine, and barely noticed when their teeth bumped, and Albert's nose hit his chin.

But then the contact was gone, and Franz could still feel the ghost-touch of Albert's tongue on his lower lip, as the other pulled away and regarded him somewhat warily, with wide eyes.

Albert didn't often look uncertain, and Franz thought that it didn't suit him. He touched a finger to his mouth momentarily, feeling his smile widen, and then reached up to pull Albert back down towards him.

So this was it... and I never knew.

It was still awkward, still upside-down - but warm and full of growing confidence.

So when Albert reluctantly disentangled himself and started to unsteadily stand up, mumbling about how it was getting dark and they should probably leave-- Franz grabbed on to his wrist with a slight shake of the head.

"You know... you're still far too drunk to drive us anywhere, Albert."

No-one will notice... if we're not back until tomorrow.

And that, Franz thought, was as good an excuse as any to pull Albert back down among the vines until dusk fell.

He still didn't much care for wine, it had to be said. But... for red wine - (with the memory of it on Albert's lips, in his mouth, of the warmth and blurry-slipshod movements against each other in the fading light) - well, for red wine... he would make an exception.