Thinking back on it, Django couldn't remember how his fascination with Schultz had started. At first he'd stayed far away, if possible on the opposite side of the camp. Slowly he began to see Schultz instead of watching him. He saw the way the man's mouth wrapped around a cigarette, how his hands gripped Fritz's reigns, and how his eyes twinkled during almost every conversation the two of them had. He saw Schultz's nose wrinkle and his eyes twitch, whenever a slur was hurled in Django's direction. Django had tried telling Schultz that it didn't matter, but Schultz only scowled harder at that.
Schultz was interesting.
One evening, with a clear sky above them and a fire in front of them, they'd found themselves sitting side by side. Dinner had consisted of some kind of beef stew that Schultz had claimed was famous in Germany, and Django wasn't sure if he believed the former dentist or not. Schultz had that twinkle in his eye again.
Django decided not to ask further and they settled in a comfortable silence.
Schultz had taken to staring into the fire and the man's brown eyes took on a color similar to fine whiskey.
Django was captivated and he knew he had to do something.
Finally, he leaned forward just enough and he hardly registered the beard as their lips met. Schultz tensed momentarily, but then relaxed and Django took that as a good sign. He pressed softly, but put his right hand behind Schultz's head, tangling his fingers just a little in the silvery hair and pushed. His mouth easily merged with Schultz's without any sound coming from either of them, except breaths being taken and clothes rustling as Django moved. Schultz's lips were parched, but so was his own and he slowly moved his leg across the doctor's lap. He successfully placed himself with his knees on either side of Schultz's hips and moved forward eagerly. So far no protests had been made.
He was taller than the German, and easily manipulated the man's jaw up for a better, more exciting angle. Schultz was pliant and as Django leaned back for a split second to breathe again, Schultz looked positively sinful. His brown eyes were hooded in the dim lights, and he was looking at Django with a strange sort of awe. Django didn't waste more time and leaned back down for more.
The kiss was searing hot in the chilly evening air.
Django tugged gently on Schultz's hair, resulting in a barely contained gasp that went directly to Django's groin. With his other hand he explored the doctor's jaw, neck, chest, and stomach. The intention was to travel further south, but this was the moment Schultz chose to intervene. He gripped Django's wrist tightly and it was like he realized what they were doing, "Stop."
"Alright, we'll keep at the lips," Django could take a hint and sought for Schultz's mouth again, but the former dentist leaned away from him now, putting a hand up to keep them apart.
"Django, stop," the hand that held Django's wrist tightened.
Django frowned, "What's wrong wit' you now?"
"We cannot do this, Django," Schultz said slowly, pushing until Django was forced to move off the man's lap. He let go and ran a shaking hand through his hair.
"What you mean we can't do this? No one's around-"
"That's not what I'm worried about, although now that you mention it I probably should be worried-"
"Doc, never mind that now. What do you mean when you say we can't do this? You don't want to? 'Cause in that case, you're great at confusing me. You're good at that anyway, but you get me?" Django raised one eyebrow.
"I was thinking," Schultz began.
Django waited, choosing for the moment to ignore the situation in his pants. A situation that Schultz had helped along, but Django couldn't tell if the feelings were mutual. Schultz had grabbed the blanket and slung it around himself.
Django sighed, "We're gonna have that talk today?"
"Give me time to think-"
"You said you was thinking when we was kissing," Django interrupted and Schultz sighed. He muttered something under his breath and Django leaned slightly, "Sorry, what was that, Doc?"
"Bitte, Django, halt die Klappe," Schultz enunciated every word slowly.
"Uh huh? Well, I don't know what that means, but-"
"It means, please shut your mouth, Django."
"So rude," Django commented lightly.
"Ich möchte nicht reden," Schultz sounded tired, and somehow defeated. He crossed his legs for comfort. "I do not want to talk right now, Django-"
"Tough luck then," Django interrupted.
Schultz didn't tell him off.
"If you was uncomfortable with what we were doing, then you can just say it-"
"No!" Schultz cut in too quickly and Django pauses to let the man explain. "No, I… I was not uncomfortable as such. I was just thinking about your wife," the doctor continued, and it sounded like only half the story.
"What about her? She'll like you," Django grinned, trying to lift the mood. He was sure Hilde was gonna like the doctor. No way Schultz's soft words wouldn't go to her heart and she'd fall in love with him quickly. "She won't mind. We always had a code; love is for sharing, but we ain't never found someone we wanted sharin' wit' before," he explained roughly.
"And I was thinking about the fact... that I am not very good with physical affection," Schultz said, sounding very quiet and his cheeks were turning red.
"Affection?" Django was not entirely sure he understood.
"Um, körperliche Zuwendung… Care! Physical care," Schultz struggled to explain, the blush spreading to his ears.
"You mean the heavy petting and that kind of stuff?" Django asked for clarification. Schultz nodded and Django snorted, "I'll show you how to feel good, Doc. Don't you worry."
"It's not me I'm worried for," Schultz said.
"What Hilde? She can manage herself, if you know what I mean-"
"Django!" Schultz hissed, making frantic hand movements. "I am not very good at showing af- care to others. It's been a while since anyone has shown me that kind of care," Schultz explained and the dime dropped.
"Doc, what do you call love in your language?" Django asked.
"Love? Love is called Liebe," Schultz said with a frown.
Django inched closer to the grey-haired man, "What about lovemaking?"
Schultz appeared tired again, "Django…"
"What's it called, Doc?" Django insisted.
"Uh… Geschlechtsverkehr is one word for it."
"That's a long word."
"Sometimes we just say sex because it's shorter and to the point," Shchultz confessed and that was the first time the word 'sex' left Dr. King Schultz's mouth and Django couldn't wait for the second time.
"Is the process just as long as the word?" Django continued his inquires with raised eyebrows.
"Don't tease me, Django," Schultz's nudged his shoulder.
"Who said I was teasing? I might just be hoping?"
"For sex?"
The second time the word 'sex' left Schultz's mouth and Django wanted to pick up exactly where they'd left off before Schultz had decided to cut it short.
"Maybe not for Geshle-geschlecthsferfera straight away, but just some liebe?"
"You pronunciation needs work," Schultz's tone was bone dry, like his sense of humor.
"Hilde would have known," Django shrugged lightly, looking up at the stars again. He leaned back and glanced at Schultz, "How do you say 'I love you'?"
"Ich liebe dich," Schultz answered without hesitation.
"Ich liebe dich," Django repeated, the words wobbling on his tongue but Schultz's smiled at the attempt and that was all he needed. He went to his knees and crawled towards Schultz, putting his hands on the man's shoulders, "Let me make you feel good, Doc."
"Django…"
"Slow. I promise," Django smirked and eased his hands under Schultz's blanket, pushing it off the man entirely. He was going to make tonight the best night Schultz's had ever had.