A/N: Only ONE slash story at for Swing Kids? That just had to be changed. Peter and Thomas, they just ROCK...or better SWING ;) This may be a bit sappy in the end, but I just couldn't help it.

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"You know what I'd love to do right now?" Peter asked, snuggling closer into Thomas' tight embrace.

"Dance?" Thomas' lips moved gently against the other young man's hair.

"Yes." Peter sighed, kissing Thomas' bare chest, trying to ignore the scars of bullet wounds he saw there.

"Me too." Thomas' answer was so low, he barely couldn't hear it himself. A tear run down his cheek and he made Peter look at him, murmuring, "I'm so sorry."

Peter looked up, pressed himself even more against his lover and murmured, "Don't be." He kissed Thomas' beautiful mouth hesitantly. "They got you; it was their fault, not yours." He bent down again for another chaste kiss. "It's such a miracle you survived and I found you again."

Thomas merely nodded. The knot in his throat was way too tight. He wanted to apologize for everything he had done to his friends before the damn war broke out, especially all those harsh words towards Arvid. He hadn't allowed himself to grieve for their guitarist back then, but he did it very deeply now.

Everything they lived for was destroyed. Six years of their young lives wasted. Peter's in an inhuman, exhausting working camp, Thomas' in barbarous battles. They'd both seen and experienced beyond horrible things.

But like a miracle, they'd found each other again. They'd both come back to Hamburg, to their roots, and met by accident in the ruins of their favourite dance club, "Café Trichter".

Was that fate?

As soon as they had recognized each other, they hugged fiercely and they realized, they just couldn't let go.

"I will never ever let you out of my sight again." Thomas had breathed harshly against Peter's neck. And Peter had just turned his head, and without thinking, captured Thomas' mouth in a desperate, bruising kiss.

Thomas' fingers had tightened in Peter's worn overcoat and he held on for dear life, not caring that it was inappropriate what they did in plain sight. No one did care these days. All that mattered was being still alive.

They'd stumbled towards Peter's old flat, half carrying each other. There were ruins all around them, the roof of Peter's house was broken in but they still lived there, having nowhere else to go.

Thomas was glad to see that Peter's mother and brother were alive, and his stuttered greeting was an "I'm so sorry," as well.

Now they lay in each others arms for the third night in a row. Not wanting to go out by day, but having to do so to find some food.

"We'll dance again." Peter said very determined out of the blue, grabbing Thomas' half hard erection, stroking furiously.

Thomas gasped and arched into his lover's hand, concentrating on the wonderful sensation and trying to shove the terrifying memories towards the back of his mind. He felt Peter's tongue invade his mouth, caressing his very gently. An all consuming fire erupted inside of him, when Peter's fingers played with Thomas' hard shaft and his balls, rolling them. That was just too much. An insanely glorious shudder shot through Thomas' body and he came, groaning loudly.

Peter chuckled beside him, foundling himself. Thomas didn't have the courage so far to touch his friend, but he enjoyed watching him very much.

Today he couldn't tear his gaze away from Peter's moving fist. His subconscious told him, that there must have been something there between them six years ago; they just didn't dare acting on it or admitting it to each other.

Dancing together had been as far as they could go.

Suddenly, Thomas remembered very clearly the emotions he had while dancing. The reason why he loved Swing so much. The reason why he was able to withstand the HJ for so long.

It was rhythm, feelings, joy of life.

He sighed, locking gazes with Peter, who stared at him, his hand moving very slowly, as though he was waiting for something.

Thomas drew his fingers through his own come on his stomach and then, boldly, put it on Peter's cock head, smearing his fluid around, mingling it with Peter's pre-come.

The unexpected action caused Peter to spasm violently, closing his eyes, sighing dreamily, "Oh, Thomas…yeah…"

Thomas leaned over and kissed Peter through his orgasm. Gently, just with the right amount of pressure, their fists pumping in unison.

"We'll dance again." Thomas pulled the thin bed cover over them, not caring for the mess they'd just made. He suddenly felt utterly hopeful, facing Peter in the moonlit room, caressing a strand of already grown back hair and moving it from the other's eyes.

"Yeah, and together." Peter mirrored the action, loving the silky feel of Thomas' longish locks, smiling at the fact that he too had started to grow his hair again.

It was like a promise. A promise for a future together.

A few weeks back, Peter was near the verge of complete breakdown from exhaustion through endless work and torture. There was no glimpse anywhere of a future. Only the end of the world.

In May everything changed.

When he looked at Thomas, who glanced back at him through half closed lashes, smiling happily, their hands entwined, he felt a very warm glow grow in his chest.

Hope.

And love.

"I love you." He just had to say it out loud, sounding slightly out of breath.

Thomas squeezed his hand, his glance not sleepy at all anymore, "I love you too," and after some seconds he added, "Always have."

F I N