Summary: Hanschen decides to invite Ernst to do some Latin (Catullus!) homework with him. Of course, Hanschen has other things planned than simply work. ;) I promise the story is more interesting than this summary. Rated M for slight yaoi and a bit of language. Slash!if you don't like, don't read.
Disclaimer: I do not own Spring Awakening or any of the characters from it, nor do I own any of Catullus' work, the amazing, slightly inappropriate poet that he was.
Ernst and Hanschen Homework Time!
As Ernst stood by his desk, slowing gathering his books at the end of the school-day, Hanschen, full of charm and wit, sauntered over to the brown-haired boy.
"Hello, Ernst," Hanschen said smoothly.
"Umm, h. . . hey Hanschen," returned the nervous boy.
"I am inviting you to come to my house to do homework. Be there in thirty minutes." With that, Hanschen walked away, smirking, knowing Ernst was a frazzled mess behind him. Although he had left without a reply, Hanschen hadn't intended to stay for one. It was unnecessary; Ernst, the submissive boy he is, would never think of refusing Hanschen, even if the notoriously sensual nature of his classmate flustered him.
Quickly walking out into the afternoon air, Ernst rushed over to his house to ask his parent's permission. Stepping into the quaint home, still thinking about the golden-haired boy, Ernst yelled out, "Mother? May I go do Hanschen at homework's house . . . WAIT, wait! I mean, may I go do homework at Hanschen's house?" What an odd slip of the tongue, Ernst thought.
"Sure, honey, just make sure you're back by dark."
"Thanks, Mother!"
On his way over, Ernst's mind was racing. Something about Hanschen made Ernst feel . . . strange. They seldom spoke, though. What reason would Hanschen have for wanting to work with Ernst?
Meanwhile, Hanschen stood in his room, waiting for Ernst to arrive. His room was perfectly organized for the occasion, yet he didn't plan on doing any work there. He would just lead Ernst outside, away from the adults, and then they could do homework alone. Of course, being Hanschen, homework wasn't the only thing on his mind.
Frankly, Hanschen was strongly attracted to Ernst. Sure, around half of that was sexual, but what would you expect? Cute, inexperienced, untouched Ernst. There were endless doors that waited to be opened.
Gazing out his window, Hanschen saw Ernst hesitantly walking towards the front door. Hanschen chuckled, too lazy to walk downstairs and open the door himself, and waited for his mother to get it.
Having been greeting by Hanschen's mother, Ernst made his way up the stairs to the door marked, "HANSCHEN." Lightly knocking on the door, he heard a low, "You may enter" and opened the door.
Hanschen lounged on his bed, shirt open, golden skin shining from the sun. Ernst froze, his face quickly turning a deep shade of pink. Hanschen's plan had commenced.
"Well hello again, Ernst; it's a bit hot in here, don't you think?"
"Y-y-yeah."
"We should go outside; there's a cool breeze, and I know of a nice area in the woods where we can work."
With that, Hanschen gathered his books and walked out of the room, not giving Ernst another glance, for he knew that the boy would follow. Waiting for Ernst by the door, Hanschen casually placed his arms across the boy's shoulder as he walked out of the house.
They slipped into surprisingly painless conversation as they began their walk:
"So, how has your day been so far, Ernst?"
"Honestly, not so well, Hanschen. I got a C- on my Latin paper on Catullus 51. Apparently I have no clue what Catullus means and am an incompetent writer. It's just . . . I don't understand him. I was thinking, could you possibly help me with that? I know you're really good in that subject."
"Of course, Ernst, I'll be happy to help. The key to Catullus is emotion, pure unadulterated emotion," Hanschen said with confidence. "In Catullus 51, he is insanely jealous of his lover's relationship with another man. His insatiable lust for her transforms into envy."
"But I thought all of the poetry was symbolic. Catullus didn't really have a relationship with a married woman or anything like that, right?"
"Ernst, there are just some emotions that one cannot simply write about without having experienced them."
At that moment, they turned into the field, and stopped walking, taking in their surroundings. They stood in the middle of a beautifully grassy meadow. Hanschen left Ernst's side and went to sit under the shade of a tree. Once seated, he patted the ground next to him, inviting his classmate to join him.
"Get out your Latin book," Hanschen said "Today's poetry assignment perfectly exemplifies my point about emotional writing."
Sitting on the soft grass, Ernst pulled out his book, marked at the assigned poem. Hanschen quickly snatched the book away, beginning to read the poem to Ernst, translating as he went along:
Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love,
and let us judge all the rumors of the old men
to be worth just one penny!
The suns are able to fall and rise:
When that brief light has fallen for us,
we must sleep a never ending night.
Give me a thousand kisses, then another hundred,
then another thousand, then a second hundred,
then yet another thousand more, then another hundred.
Then, when we have made many thousands,
we will mix them all up so that we don't know,
and so that no one can be jealous of us when he finds out
how many kisses we have shared.
All the time Hanschen read, Ernst was staring at Hanschen's mouth. His lips perfectly formed each word, and the sound of his voice was like pure gold. Some of the aforementioned "strange" feelings arose in Ernst and he shifted uncomfortably, still entranced. Hanschen's bone structure and piercing eyes were unbearably hands—
"Ernst! Snap out of it," Hanschen bluntly stated, his face inches away from Ernst's, his breath tickling Ernst's nose.
Ernst let out a small yelp of surprise, and Hanschen smiled, leaning away and flipping to another page of the book. While turning the pages, Hanschen continued to talk:
"Do you get what I mean about Catullus' writing?"
"Yes, Hanschen," Ernst said almost obediently.
"Good. Would you like to do another? This one is my personal favorite. I'll read the Latin and then you can translate it. Don't worry; I'll help if you get stuck."
With that, Hanschen quickly read the Latin text and passed the book to Ernst who began to translate the poem – Catullus 48. Surprisingly, it didn't take Ernst long, but there was no emotion present in his translation. He was simply reading, not absorbing; so, Hanschen took it upon himself to read it with some feeling:
Juventius, if I could play at kissing
your honeyed eyes as often as I wished to,
300,000 games would not exhaust me;
never could I be satisfied or sated,
although the total of our osculations
were greater than the ears of grain at harvest.
It seemed as though Hanschen had the poem memorized, for he confidently recited it without glancing at the book. In fact, his eyes were focused on Ernst the whole time. When done, Ernst's slightly confused look convinced Hanschen that the boy had little to no clue what Catullus wrote.
"Ernst," Hanschen began, "I still don't think you understand what Catullus is talking about. Let's try this. Do you know who Juventius was?"
"No, Hanschen," Ernst whispered.
"He was a young boy in Catullus' generation. They had a certain type of relationship and this poem is about that. Do you understand?"
"No, Hanschen."
"Well, I'll try to help you." Hanschen got up and started to slowly pace around Ernst until coming to a halt, bending down behind Ernst.
"Ernst, do you know how it feels to be attracted to someone?" Hanschen whispered into his classmate's ear, causing a noticeable shiver to run through the boy's body.
Ernst was definitely feeling strange, to say the least. His face was clearly flushed.
"Well, do you, Ernst?" Hanschen teased.
"I-I-I, I don't know," Ernst stuttered.
Hanschen walked back around Ernst, sitting directly in front of the flustered boy, smiling. "I think you do know how it feels, Ernst. I know you know how it feels, for I can tell you feel it now." Leaning in closer until his nose was lightly brushing Ernst's, Hanschen softly spoke:
"Will you be my Juventius, Ernst?"
With as much composure as he could muster, Hanschen slowly leaned towards Ernst until their lips lightly touched. Ernst quickly pulled back in surprise:
"Hanschen, what are we doing? I don't . . . I-I –"
He was silenced by Hanschen.
The older boy's lips began to move more fiercely against Ernst's. He simply could not contain himself any longer, and, apparently, neither could Ernst. Instantly forgetting his worries, the young one began to kiss Hanschen back, furthering Hanschen's current high. Hanschen placed his hands in the brunette's hair, pulling him closer and gently licking his bottom lip, nearly begging for entrance into that untouched mouth of Ernst's. Ernst willingly complied and a small moan elicited from his throat as Hanschen explored his mouth.
The innocent boy slid his delicate hands across Hanschen's exposed chest. At that, Hanschen's lips left Ernst's, who felt sorrow at the loss of contact. But he was not left in sadness as Hanschen began to ravish the boy's soft neck, leaving a trail of kisses and sucking on a sensitive spot, causing Ernst to throw his head back in pleasure.
Completely enveloped in Ernst, Hanschen slowly laid the boy on the soft grass, straddling his hips. As Hanschen's throbbing erection brushed against Ernst's, the brunette's hips instinctively bucked against Hanschen's causing the older one to gasp in lust and surprise. Hanschen began to unbutton Ernst's shirt, quickly discarding it before his own and moving to work on the boy's chest, stopping to slide his tongue around each nipple, gently biting.
"H-Hanschen!" Ernst moaned as Hanschen continued to brush his body against Ernst's, their hips rhythmically moving together.
Just at that moment, Melchior Gabor rounded the corner, having been sent out by Ernst's mother to find her son, as the sky was quickly darkening. Smirking as he noticed the boys completely enveloped in each other, Melchior whistled from a distance, attempting to not humiliate them by walking towards them.
Hanschen snapped out of his trance, upset at Gabor's interruption:
"Can you not tell that we are busy?" Hanschen all but growled, eyes piercing with fury.
Ernst's face turned from pink to blood red as his eyes landed on Melchior Gabor, his classmate.
"Well, I would have happily left you two be," Melchior said, "but the sky has darkened and your little boyfriend's mother is starting to become worried. I was sent to find you."
"Hello, Ernst," he continued, causing the young man to quietly stutter a hello.
"Fine, Gabor. I'll return him home to his mother. Now run away and leave. Goodbye."
As Melchior Gabor walked away, Hanschen rolled onto the grass next to Ernst. "Fuck you, Gabor," Hanschen cursed. After a few moments of regaining his breath, Hanschen turned to Ernst:
"Well, it is night. We'd better get going." Hanschen rose from the ground, lending a hand to the still flustered Ernst, helping him up.
Ernst slightly stumbled as he rose, attempting to gather his books, strewn across the grass.
As the two young men walked back together, they were silent, both pondering what had just happened. Hanschen was happy everything had gone so well up to Gabor's showing. Ernst was extremely confused, yet the world seemed to be a bit clearer.
Stopping at the main path that split for their houses, Hanschen faced Ernst:
"So, has your day improved?"
"Yes. I-I love you, Hanschen, as I have never loved anyone."
"So you should," Hanschen said with a sly smirk, walking towards his home.
"Hanschen?" Ernst called from behind.
"Yes?"
"Do you think we could, I mean, can we . . . umm, can we–?"
"Do that again? Haha, of course. Meet me after school back at my house once more and I'll teach you some more Catullus," Hanschen said with a wink.
"Okay. Thanks, Hanschen!"
"My pleasure."
With that, each boy walked to his house, mind racing with the events of the evening. Ernst seemed to feel awakened, as if he was starting to become his true self in the world. As they fell asleep, their thoughts were focused on the other, impatiently waiting for the next afternoon.
THE END
A/N: I hope that you enjoyed this. It's my first time writing anything remotely sexual; let's hope I didn't fail at it. Even if I did, I'd love to hear what you thought: any kind of review is very much appreciated. Thank you.
P.S: If you liked the Catullus stuff, try looking into his other fantastic poetry (I'm biased as a crazy Latin student, but it still holds true). He has nice ones, rude ones, and very obscene ones (Catullus 16), but all are awesome!
