Chapter Two

No Words

Hanschen paced the length of his living room impatiently. His parents had finally left, after going over exactly when they would be back, his mother left her hat in the bedroom, then in the kitchen, then on the dinning room table, then in the kitchen again before finally shoving it on her head with such force that Hanschen was sure her head was going to rip right through the top, thankfully it didn't and they went on their way. The only problem was that Ernst wasn't there yet, and the longer he waited, the more time he had to think about what they would do once he got there, which was a very dangerous thing. He knew for a fact that neither of them had enough energy in their body to go through with everything he dreamed up, unfortunately, all that knowledge did was heighten his anticipation.

He was beginning to think he was going to wear a whole in the floor when he heard a soft knock a the door. He froze. He knew exactly who was on the other side of that door. He grinned. This was going to be an enjoyable two days.

Hanschen pulled the door open, and on the other side, as predicted, was Ernst, his school satchel packed for the weekend and slung over his shoulder, causing his whole body to lean just slightly to the right, and a small, embarrassed smile on his face. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds before Ernst was pulled inside and pushed roughly against the door, closing it and trapping him in one swift movement. They were both breathing heavily, the excitement and anticipation building inside them as they stood there, with Hanschen in control as usual, keeping Ernst pressed flat against the hard wood of the door, his satchel lay forgotten on the floor next to their feet. No one moved, no one blinked, and if they weren't breathing to hard they would probably be able to hear the clock ticking in the next room. An overpowering feeling of lust was written clearly on Hanschen's face, it was almost to much, Ernst gulped, and that was it.

He closed the distance between them, kissing him hard, and clutching him so tightly that if he had been thinking he might have worried about breaking the small boy, but as it was, in that moment he really didn't care about anything except eliminating everything that stood between them, the door had been first, clothing was the next logical step and he began to unbutton his blazer with swift and expert fingers. Ernst attempted to do the same but lost all train of thought as he felt Hanschen's hands graze his neck as his blazer was pushed off his shoulders and onto the floor, lying forgotten next to his bag. They broke apart, gasping for air as Hanschen undid the buttons of his own shirt, seeing as Ernst was incapable of doing much of anything in that moment. He grabbed his hand and pulled him upstairs, repeating the same trap as earlier against the door of his bedroom, only this time his didn't take nearly as much time before reconnecting their lips in a kiss that was-if possible-even more intense than the one downstairs.

They stumbled across the room and collapsed onto the bed, once again separating to catch their breath. And realize. Every moment up till now had been stolen, in the vineyard, behind the school building, but never at home, there was too much risk, anyone could walk through the door at anytime. They never talked about it, yet they both longed for it, a single moment in the intimate privacy of one of their houses. Now it was real. There was no turning back, and they wouldn't have it any other way. One more deep breath. Hanschen leaned in to kiss him again, but this time it was slow, the moment had to be savored, it had to be remembered. Not that their previous blind passion wouldn't have been memorable, but this was different, they had time now, time to explore, time to study each other's bodies, time to be close without the constant fear of interruption. They could be themselves, they could be together, with no one around to judge or condemn them, it was exhilarating. Any remaining clothes were shed and abandoned on the floor. One more deep, shaky breath, then it was over, all the waiting, all the anticipation gone in one, indescribable moment.

It wasn't until afterward as they lay in the bed, with Ernst resting his head on Hanschen's chest, that he realized they hadn't spoken a single word to each other, not one. He lifted his head off of his chest and, feeling a little brave, gave him a light kiss before mumbling a sleepy "Hello," the sound was almost startling and seemed to echo in the otherwise completely silent room.

"Hello," Hanschen murmured, smoothing Ernst's hair out of his face. It was endearing how he managed to be so innocent, even after everything they had done together, such experiences would strip an average person of all childhood, but with every embrace Ernst's wide eyed simplicity just seemed to grow, it was something that intrigued him to no end. He ceased his movements and let his hand rest on the back of Ernst's neck, studying his delicate facial features, and grinning as he blushed under the scrutiny.

Ernst laid his head back on Hanschen's chest, trying to focus on the quiet thumping of his heart as he contemplated whether or not to break the silence again by voicing his thoughts. The decision was made for him as he heard himself mumble in the still air, "I don't want to leave."

Hanschen looked at him in confusion, "You don't have to. We still have two days left."

He kept his eyes trained on a chip in the wall, not daring to look up at him as he said the next thing. "No, I mean... ever. I just want to stay like this."

"Well, you're going to have to get up eventually, you need to eat, and as I'm sure you've figured out, there are much more... time consuming activities than lying around all day." Ernst smiled a little, that did sound enjoyable. "You are far too sentimental, if you spend the entire weekend wishing there was more of it, it will be impossible to savor what time we do have. Now, I say we get out of bed, go downstairs, and make something of the next two days. What do you think?" Hanschen asked softly, and smiled as he felt Ernst nod slowly against his chest. He got up and went over to his chest of drawers, pulling out two shirts and a pair of pants, tossing one of the shirts at Ernst, who looked at him quizzically as he bent down to pick his pants up off the floor.

"I did bring my own clothes, they're in my bag downstairs, and besides, this will be far too big for me," he protested, attempting to hand the shirt back to Hanschen.

"Do you really believe that anyone is going to be around to care whether or not your shirt fits, especially a shirt that we both know you wont be wearing for long," he said, that ever present smirk growing on his face. Ernst blushed and began to unfold the shirt, but he paused as something fluttered out onto the floor. He bent down to pick it up, feeling his cheeks get hot when he saw what it was, a small photograph of an extremely naked woman.

"Hanschen... Who is this?" He turned and there was a flicker of something in his face, nervousness? Embarrassment? It was gone too quickly to tell for sure, replaced by a joking smirk.

"That," he said, "is Desdemona."

"How do you know her?" Ernst pressed, attempting to keep his throat from closing up.

"I don't know her, she's a model, there are many other pictures like this," Hanschen stepped forward and tried to take the photo away from him, but he wouldn't allow it.

"Why do you have it?"

"I used to... enjoy looking at it." Ernst closed his eyes and dropped the picture on the floor, sitting back down on the bed.

"Do you still... you know... look at it?"

"Are you honestly jealous of a photograph?" asked Hanschen.

There was no pause, no time for thought, the answer was immediate, "Yes," his eyes were pleading and desperate, his childish innocence overpowering everything as he waited for a response. He never got one, just a kiss, like the first one they ever shared, soft and short, yet at the same time demanding and territorial, saying much more than any of his seductive and thought out speeches ever could. "Hanschen..." They kissed again, slow and deep as Ernst leaned back onto the bed, closing his eyes and not thinking about anything accept the sensation of Hanschen's lips on his. It was a feeling that there were no words for, and in many ways no words was better than a thousand.