Disclaimer: Nah, I don't own Spring Awakening. I'm too poor. D:
Author's Note: I am very sorry that it is so bad, but it's my first fanfic that I actually completed, and my first stab Spring Awakening fic, and my first slash. Holy cow, Batman!.
Like so many relationships, it had started with a look. A glance, if you could call it that. Ernst Robel had been quietly eyeing the stunning Hanschen Rilow during a lecture when, without warning, Hanschen turned, looked directly at Ernst, and smiled somewhat smugly. Ernst flushed and quickly dropped his gaze to his lap. This incident repeated itself at least three times until one day after school, Hanschen offered to walk home with Ernst. Ernst's stomact clenched, but he nodded and lifted the corners of his lips. They discussed petty things – the day's lecture, the equations they had been given for homework, even the weather. When they arrived at Ernst's house, Hanschen invited himself to stay and study, assuring Ernst that his, Hanschen's, parents wouldn't mind. Ernst's stomach became impossibly more clenched – what if this led to something more than studying, as Ernst had been dreaming? And it did. Ernst had barely removed one book from his bag when Hanschen leaned toward Ernst. It would have been uncomfortable, had it not been thrilling in a mortifying sort of way.
"I couldn't help but notice that you've been acting differently around me lately, Ernst." Their foreheads were almost touching. Ernst's stomach lurched and his lungs stopped working. "Now why is that, I wonder…?" Ernst marveled briefly at how calm Hanschen sounded, but his brain shut off once Hanschen's lips gently met his own. Hanschen's hands were on him, all over him; Ernst's back, arms, hair, the back of his neck... He experienced a peculiar sensation about his waist that had nothing to do with his stomach. The buttons on his shirt were being undone…
And it all fell into place from there.
Weeks later, the two lay far away from anyone else on a warm, sunny patch of grass and dirt. Ernst was on his stomach, doodling pleasantly with a fingertip on Hanschen's chest and stomach. He placed a hand on Hanschen's hip and left it there as he rolled over onto his back. "I love you," Ernst whispered. Hanschen's conscience twinged. At first, it was true, he had felt next to no affection for the smaller boy laying next to him. He had merely seduced him for his own gain, taken advantage of the poor boy's emotions for pleasure and release for himself. The whole time, Ernst had been convinced that he was in love with Hanschen, and that Hanschen loved him, too. Hanschen hadn't. But what about now? Ernst had grown on Hanschen, that much was for sure. They had spent the night together five times, and each time Ernst became more and more convinced that they were in love. What is love, anyway?, Hanschen thought bitterly.
Ernst spoke tentatively, pulling Hanschen back to earth. "…did you hear me, Hanschen? I- I said… I… love you."
Hanschen, paused, and then lamely replied, "Yes, I heard you."
Again, Ernst spoke carefully. "Are you going... to say it back?" His fingers were now tense on Hanschen's hip. Hanschen knew not what to say, so he said nothing.
"Okay." Ernst sniffed, stood up, and, without looking at Hanschen, strode off, breaking into a sprint just before disappearing from sight.
Ernst sat on his bed, crying silently. How could I have ever thought that that egotistical seducer had feelings for me? How innocent of me! But I see now how naïve I've been. All this time I've been nothing but a… a toy for Hanschen. How clever of him, to take advantage of confused, pathetic Ernst, who –
His bedroom door creaked open, and leaning on the doorjamb was Hanschen Rilow himself. For once, he wasn't wearing his trademark smirk. His expression was that of deepest sorrow and - might that be confusion? His hay-colored hair reflected the moon's silver light.
Ernst inhaled loudly and clumsily wiped at the moisture on his face with his palms, turning his back in a feeble attempt to hide his face from Hanschen. He fully expected Hanschen to come charging across the room to the bed, but was disappointed. Hanschen just stood there with that strange expression on his face.
Neither of them spoke, but it was Hanschen who broke the silence. "Ernst…"
No reply.
"Ernst, I…" Now he crossed the room and sat on the corner of Ernst's bed. Ernst began to cry again. "Now, really…" Beside himself, he placed a warm hand on Ernst's shoulder. In spite of himself, a small shudder coursed through Ernst's spine. Hanschen took a deep, composing breath, and tried again. "Ernst, I am truly very sorry for making you so upset. I… probably cannot even imagine what emotions you must–"
A derisive laugh escaped Ernst's lips. He turned.
"Do you ever feel anything at all? Ever?!" Hanschen's eyes widened. He had certainly not expected this. "Sure, you pretend to, if it'll get you something you want, like… like sex! But it's all just a façade, isn't it, Hanschen? Underneath, behind that mask, that smirk, it's just a blank wall." Hanschen certainly wasn't smirking now. He had never heard Ernst shout before.
"Ernst, I don't think you understand-" There was a not of pleading in his voice now.
"No, I think it's you who doesn't understand."
Hanschen, now truly desperate, kissed Ernst fervently. Ernst broke away with a scowl. "No."
Remembering how good Ernst's hand had felt on his hip, feeling like he was jumping into a pool of freezing water, said it; "I love you."
For a moment there was silence. Then, "And I'm sure you really mean that."
"Ernst-!"
"I said no, Hanschen!"
The silence rang in both boys' ears. Hanschen stood, briskly strode back to the door, and left, closing the door with a snap.
The next day at school, Ernst didn't look at Hanschen once, though he got the feeling that Hanschen was trying to catch his eye. Instead, Ernst looked only at Melchior Gabor, who looked back and did not smirk, but smiled.