It was only natural that at the age of five, Luca Schleiden was given a violin as a birthday present. And it wasn't like he didn't want it. He loved it as if it were one of his stuff animals or toy cars. The mystery of how to produce music from such an intriguing structure elevated an emotion that no other toy had given him in his young life.

Sometimes, he would practice day in and day out, figuring out how much he could play in one day without forgetting or messing up. "As long as your homework is finished" his father used to say. Or rather, "Ja, du kannst das machen, solange deine Hausaufgaben fertig ist". If anyone couldn't already notice by the sound of his first name and spelling of his last name, he was 100% German, born in Hessen and growing up in a village north of Dortmund.

Germany was known for its high interest in music, especially classical music. This fact made Luca's young interest in classical music and the violin a normal, everyday German childhood trait. Sadly, this love for the world of music was soon shot down when his father's business was sent out to the United States, in a county that almost no one ever heard of – even in the rest of the United States – when he was only nine years old. As a younger, hormonal teen, he often wished that his father would've gotten this news when he was a younger, so that he couldn't remember having to leave everyone back in Deutschland.

The first year of education for Luca was sent in a dysfunctional public school in Lima, Ohio. He hated it because all they focused on was learning towards a test. Activities such as music, except for the Glee club, which caused more drama than music, were deemed to be "extra-curricular" and not needed for the young, "bright" minds of America.

The summer after this horrid experience in public school, Luca was able to convince his father that they needed to find a school that valued his interest. His father, whose business skyrocketed after the move, gave his family the money to do such a change. And within that summer, all preparations were set for him to transfer to a private school called "Dalton Academy".

Now, at the age of 17, Dalton Academy was still known as his home and his interest in classical music has made him a household name in the academy. However, the cello, basically a larger version of his precious violin, had become his new partner in crime. He still had his 12 year old violin somewhere in his room but he wanted a change somewhere in the middle of his sophomore year of high school, so he switched to the cello.

The thing about Dalton Academy was that it didn't just tickle his fancy for its high standards in the musical department, but also in the population that occupied the school – all boys. His mother, when first hearing about the school being all boys was not too concerned but a slight twitch of her eye at the sound of "all boys" made Luca realize that she wasn't totally into the idea. And unlike his father, who was almost always out on business, his mother could see the signs of her son being a bit…different.

Luca loved to twirl, dancing around the house without a care in the world. He told his mother time and time again that it was an activity that made him feel limber…light. She would just nod her head in agreement while her son was shaking his hips to a Shakira song. But dancing wasn't the only difference. Unlike most boys in the school, who only hung out with each other, he seemed to enjoy the company of the girls from his block instead. He thought they understood him better than "the freaks that he had class with." Again, his mother could just listen until he was done with his explanation for being a little different, then go into the other room to make their family something with potatoes.

So when he came out his freshman year, his father was shocked while his mother actually laughed. She laughed, patted him on the shoulder and said, "I know". Luca smiled widely, heading downstairs to tell his girlfriends about his admission when he heard his father mutter "unglaublich" (unbelievable) from his still position in the living room. Luca didn't let that single word of disappointment. He was who he was, and no one, even his father, could tell him otherwise.

Mid-Sophomore year, when his outing was now well known by the academy and his small group of male friends who lived there (he commuted), a new piece of meat stumbled through the orchestra room. His teacher, a short and skinny old man with a beard like Coronal Sanders, introduced him as "Max" from Minnesota, who was quite known for his cello experience back at his old school. Just by looking at his well-built chest, lengthy fingers, slight bit of extra meat that covered his abdomen, and hair that was modeled after the overrated Justin Bieber, Luca knew he wanted this man to sit next to him – and he did.

It wasn't until a few weeks in that they finally had second-long conversations between warm-ups and actual full-length classical pieces. Luca was fine with these conversations because he had an assumption that this guy was straight. He just got that vibe. Or so he thought.

After one long day of rehearsal for the next week's competition in the Tri-State Championship in Chicago, Max waited by his seat, purposely packing up his cello at inch-worm speed as Luca spoke about his solo with their teacher.

Once Luca turned back to sit down at his assigned chair, grabbing his own, black-coated cello, Max smiled up at him, swinging his backpack on one shoulder and his cello gripped firmly in his other available arm, "I know this might sound out of the blue and you can totally say hell no but…are you free for some coffee tonight?" He shifted his body ever so slightly and laughed uneasily, "My treat for the rough treatment the teach has been putting on you."

Aside from being taken slightly aback by his statement and overall action to purposely wait back for him, Luca smiled and agreed. At this point, he wasn't exactly sure what this guy wanted from him. After all, he was straight…right?

Luca, then assuming that this hunk of a man was not at all gay, thought their coffee session was mostly about the championship next week and not about the fact that they were both hot for one another; a session that he thought would last for maybe a half an hour, but instead, lasted over four hours, to the point where the coffee shop was about to close their doors. Luca and Max were both shocked about how many interest they shared in common. Max, half-ashamed at himself for the thought, admitted half-way that he thought their time together that this "date" probably wouldn't have last that long, but was happily surprised when it clearly surpassed his expectations.

Luca practically took over the conversation after that admission, not wanting to admit that he thought the same about this "date" because clearly, he was attracted to this man and didn't want him to think otherwise. Thus, he continued, telling Max about his love for classical music, his heritage, and dance. Max smiled, noting that Luca's accent was one of the things that first caught his eye when he came to the Orchestra room – much to Luca's dismay after 12 years of being in the United States.

Slowly, the conversation turned to Max's background. Luca learned so much in such a short time. He learned that his real name was "Maximums Reginald Carter-Stevenson" and that he lived in a very liberal household where his parents were practically rich hippies. He learned that he grew up in a hopelessly dead small town in Minnesota where he spent his free time helping his father's cattle or his school work before his father literally high the jackpot aka the lottery. "I don't care how busy our farm gets…your school work always comes first" His father would note, and Max always took that to heart. Luca nodded in understanding at this, knowing that he valued that as well from growing up in a purely German household.

Max didn't have much of a history behind his cello playing. He stated to tell Luca that he always loved instruments instead of sports. He didn't have the body for sports but he was always noted to have fingers for a violin or piano, so he went with the first, learning the violin in the middle of his elementary school years.

When they seemed to have nothing else to talk about, they switched to gossip. Max sipped his coffee with intensity as Luca spoke about this other gay kid named "Blaine Anderson" who was pretty much the ruler of the Glee club at Dalton. "He's a good guy…" Luca said before he took a sip of his Mocha Latte, "But he needs a guy to whip him into shape. He's too high-strung"

Max nodded, remembering a clean and svelte individual with hair that was slicked back with so much hair gel that it was practically dripping off that huge noggin of his. That must have been him, Max said to himself.

Luca took one last gulp of his drink before standing up and throwing it in the trash can, "Are you done?" Max nodded shyly, forgetting that he was the one who asked him to go out here in the first place. Max smacked himself internally; examining Luca with his eyes, Max practically was eye-fucking him (unintentionally, of course). He didn't realize how good he looked with his Dalton jacket off and a natural, content glow to his face. It was magnetic.

Max stood up and threw out his drink, then taking his index finger and pointing to the door, "Follow me out?"

Luca nodded with a slight grin, "Yeah."

They walked side by side until they were next to Luca's car. The hands brushed twice as they took the long, well not that long but it felt like that long for them, walk to Luca's car, which elicited a spark that made both blush under the twilight sky. Once they reached, Max placed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the car, telling Luca how nice of a car he had.

Luca's smile became a full-on Cheshire cat grin, "Danke…I mean, thank you." Dammit, Luca cursed to himself, hating his external reaction to being nervous – speaking a different language. But the Spanish did it all the time, so why can't he do it with his first language?

Max laughed, internally loving Luca's vulnerability, "Soooo…is there a next time?"

Luca inched closer to Max, enclosing an area that became tighter and tighter by each breathe they mutually took, "When and where?"

"My room…tomorrow? I mean, we'll go somewhere afterwards but you know…" Max started to ramble, a trait of his own when becoming nervous and having to flirt. It had been a long while since he ever went anywhere with another gay man, "…to meet. Because…you know, I live in the dorms and it was just be – "

And mid-ramble, Luca leaned forward and gently kissed Max's plump and defiantly perfect, American lips. Two or three or four pecks later – they had lost count – they separated.

Luca groaned internally, knowing his mother wanted him home an hour before curfew. His insides churned and flipped, his whole body inflicting itself with so much desire that Luca didn't know if he could contain it all. But he parted from Max's side and cued for them both to get in the car.

Ten agonizing minutes later, Luca dropped Max off back at the dorms, although neither could say that there was not a bit of cheek-kissing and hand flirting during the duration of the trip.

"…'till next time?" Max said once again, eyes dark and breathe still heavy, as he got out.

Luca, darting out of the car and reaching Max's side, filled with just as much as desire as his counterpart, simply nodded, pulling Max in for one more kiss before they officially went their separate ways, "Yeah."

Luca let him go and was just about to twirl back around and into his car when Max shouted, "Hey Luca!" Luca's head rose up; "Yeah?" which sounded a bit more like "Ja".

"Auf Wiedersehen, man!"

"Tschüβ!"

"What?" Max shouted half way down the street.

"Forget it! Good night!" Luca shouted back with a chuckle.

Max waved him off, shouting one last time before turning around and looking in the direction he was supposed to be going, "No! I got this… juice!" The attempt, which was not Max's fault, made Luca laugh so hard that the car was shaking; totally and utterly wrong pronunciation, but who the fuck cares?

Luca turned back to the car, starting it and peeling out of the school's dorm parking lot, "This should be an interesting year." he remarked, wondering if it will be exactly as he predicted or just a hopeless fantasy, begging to become reality.

Fast-forward a year later, to a couple deemed the "Cello Lovers" for two reasons, that can be obviously understood – their love of each other and their love for their cellos.

Now, they wouldn't say that they were perfect, having one or two fights that created what they now call a "mini-breakup". It wasn't until month two that they realized how competitive they were when it came to anything – academics, dance, instruments – anything that could be made into a competition, and sometimes betted on, made their eyes wide with a devilish smile and a hint of sexual desire. Sadly, this fact was what often led to one of their ridiculous "mini-breakups" that would last, at most, two weeks. However, when it didn't lead to a break-up, let's just say that their competiveness eventually became a reason for aggressive sex, or marked the winner of the competition with the title of "the top" in bed that night.

So on such an average night at Dalton, a bitch Latina chick came storming into their territory, demanding to speak with another gay, who was also an utter prick to the LBGT community (well…minus the L) there at Dalton. The orchestra had no interest in helping this prick other than helping out the overall Glee club at the academy.

The Latina yelled louder at the prick, actually named Sebastian. He laughed at her accusations like what she said was not 100% right, which it was, as Luca whispered over to Max, who sat on the opposite of him, "What the hell is going on?"

Max and Luca's teacher yelled to the group that they were done for the day anyways…the back and forth banter between the two bitches was getting too ridiculous for everybody to stay.

"Cellos, would you hold back for a sec.? I'm gunna need you guys." The chick demanded, creating a raised eyebrow from both Max and Luca as they gazed at each other before taking their seats once again.

Now, by this time, they could speak telepathically to one another, "Wanna make a bet? Because I bet I can do that song she just asked us to do, so much fuckin' better than you" Max said silently.

Luca placed his grip harder on his cello, "you…wish…"

The prick and the bitch started their tune which was Michael Jackson's "Smooth Criminal". In the Orchestra world, it was a very intense number that few cellioist could ever master. But to Celloist Maxamus and Luca, it was practically a breeze. Both had discovered months before that they learned this song on their own just for fun. It took more than a month but once it was mastered on both sides, all they could do was sit around and see who could do it all the way through without their bow breaking. And that was a very, very, hard task to do, no matter how good you were.

Intensity, desire, want, and rage burned through both their eyes, their heads shifting back and forth at the increasing speed of the song, with their bows swishing from side to side in such a ravaged motion that they thought their arms were going to burn and eventually break off. Their glaze at one another didn't break either. No telepathic words were exchanged between the two – the music spoke for them.

So there they were, fingers scattering across the neck of the Cello like a piano moving across the black and white keys. And even when the song began to slow down, the bitch's voice echoing a yell that sounded like Michael Jackson's famous yelp with the combination of his famous crotch grab, they never stopped their pace. This song was intense and they, as a couple, the most casual gay couple at Dalton, thrived on such intensity like it was the greatest treasure of all.

When the song reached its end, they simultaneously spun their cellos, like little ballerinas, spinning their feet while the neck hung firmly in place. Neither knew that the other would do such a move but the reaction to their identical act brought a telepathic smile to their faces. They didn't want to act unprofessional, even in the presence of the prick and bitch, so they kept their faces thin and emotionless.

Eventually, they gave each other small nods of a job well-done, acknowledging the fact that they'll discuss the winner of the bet after leaving the two Gleekers.

In shock, no, more in horror, they watched as the gay prick of Dalton dove in for a kiss to the Latina.

"He's so fucking gay" Max slightly spoke to his lover with eyebrows fully rose upwards.

"I know!" Luca chimed in through his thoughts, leaning down to place his Cello back in his case quickly, now attempting to give the unlikely pair some sort of privacy in this quite unexpected occurrence.

Max followed his boyfriend's actions, packing up his cello and beaten bow and grabbing the shoulder of his lover, rubbing it and smiling until they finally left the room, in which they couldn't help but laugh hysterically at the turn of events in that room.

"What the fuck are they doing?" Max said with a look of disgust as he scrunched his nose, his hand swinging from side to side, like his cello case on the other shoulder, until the hand landed in the tight and squeezing grip of his Deutscher Mann.

"I don't know but there were defiantly fireworks!" Luca remarked, laugher still spilling out from his mouth as they walked out of the music hallway and by the main stairwell.

"Mmm…which got me thinkin'…that was a close competition we had there…I say that you won. So much more intensity and man, you killed the second bridge!"

Luca wanted to wave Max's suggestion off, but couldn't because both hands were full, so he shrugged his shoulders instead and said, "Personally, you nailed the end better than I ever could but why don't we say it's a tie. We'll grab some dinner…aaaaaaand then have sex, hot, monkey man sex afterwards?"

Max bite his lip threw a painful laughter that surged through his body. He just loved how great his boyfriend was with words. So completely correct and to the point. Max pulled at Luca's hand and gave him a passionate kiss that the school would yell at them for if they weren't currently in an empty hallway.

Ahhh, perfection at its finest, Max thought before soft words pierced through his truly content grin, "Yeah…that works too."