Spring 1942, The National Socialist Party, or also known as the Nazi party, is at it's 'High Times' during the second world war. With countries crumbling left and right, all falling underneath the Third Reich's horrible reign. Our story takes place near the Swiss Alps, at a S.S. office. This once busy place has quieted now as most officers have left to help with the war efforts. Not all are gone, here at the headquarters, is a gentlemen by the name of Jans Kusst, a tall six foot lean blonde man with piercing sharp green eyes. He sat on the corner of the front desk, strumming his fingers gently on the cherry oak wood. There came a ringing noise, Jans lifted his hand and picked up the telephone.
"Hallo? Hm?" The man paused in thought for a brief moment.
"Ja, das ist…Was?! Nien! Nien!" His voice grew louder as the conversation progressed. Then without warning he clicked the receiver and sat the telephone down. The news that he received was something Jans had not expected at all, let alone from a higher ranking officer. He was shipping off to Egypt to help lead a campaign, what would be later known as Operation Torch.
"Oh Jans!" Came a sing song voice from across the hallway. The man at the desk cocked his head at the younger S.S. officer as he approached. Jans pushed himself off of the desk and glanced towards Peter. Peter was a young, naive and very playful, especially towards Jans. He did have great respect towards Jans, even though the sandy blonde did tend to lip off to him, always in a teasing manner of course.
"Guten Tag Jans!" Peter greeted the taller officer with a cheerful grin.
"Hallo Peter. Vas are you doing out here?"
"Jans! Of course I komm to see you!" The shorter blonde approached closer, ambitious eyes filled with light.
"Hm, very vell zen." Jans turned his back as he began to rummage through the paper work that had been piled on the desk.
"Any zing I can help you vith?"
"Nien."
"Positive?"
"Ja." As he rummaged move in the piles of work, Peter leaned forward and pulled out a newspaper off the desk. He gave a look through the headlines and gave a sigh of boredom. Always the same headliners, Germany was winning the war and advancing further towards Russia everyday.
"Looking for zis?" His voice ran as Jans peeked his head up from the papers.
"Jawohl! He reached for the paper, in hopes that Peter would 'play nice' and just hand the damn thing over. Once again, Jans was wrong, the officer had pulled the paper away from him and shook his head.
"Nien Jans! I vant somzing in return." Peter folded and tucked the newspaper underneath his arm, giving Jans a smirk.
"Not zis again."
"Oh ja zis again!" Peter cried joyfully.
"Fine." Jans stated in a dry tone as he pulled the younger officer by the belt, towards him. He leaned forward, removing Peter's cap and tossing it aside, it had no importance at that moment. The taller blonde took a moment to study Peter, the features of the young one. How long had it been since the first time they encountered one another? A few years ago? Yes, it had been three years ago, at a training officer's camp when the two had first come into contact. It wasn't long into the flash back when Peter interrupted it.
"Vas? You going to kiss me or vait around?" Peter hissed impatiently trying to get a rise out of the older officer. Jans chuckled as he placed a hand on the man's cheek. His index finger skimming across Peter's young and yet defined cheekbone. As he closed in, closer to Peter, his lips brushing against the young blondes, he couldn't pull himself to do it.
"I can't." Jans rested his forehead against Peter's, letting out a soft sigh.
"Somzing vrong?" Peter's blue eyes traced the man's face, searching for a sign that would lead him to the answer.
"Ja…"
"Zen…vat is it?" Peter tugged on the sleeve of his Officer uniform.
"Alright, alright, Peter, I vill tell you, but you vill not be happy." Their eyes met for a solid moment, as if Jan's eyes told Peter everything already.
"Nien…" The young officer trailed, letting the paper slip from underneath his arm, floating to the ground. "But vhy?! They said you vould stay! Talk them out of doing zis!"
"Peter!" Jans's voice was sharp as he shook the younger man, getting his attention. "Zis is var. Var damn it! You and I both knew zat zis day vould come." He pulled away from Peter, trying to get his attention.
"Jawohl." Giving a salute to his higher commander he clicked his boots together and picked up his cap. Placing it on his head and giving a final glance to Jans.
"Ich liebe du."
"Das nicht sagen Jans."