Hanschen lay awake that night in bed, staring up at the ceiling and plotting ways to seduce Ernst. They'd spent the whole evening studying together. Hanschen had managed to invite himself into Ernst's house, and the two had poured over The Illiad for hours. Hanschen, of course, led the way, trying to focus as much as possible on the scenes with Achilles and Patroclus. Ernst may have been naïve, but he wasn't dumb. Surely he understood what Hanschen was getting at as he read the passages aloud?
"Do you follow me, Ernst? Do you see the line I'm talking about?" Hanschen pointed to the text lying on the floor between them. They were sitting side by side on the ground, a burning lamp illuminating the pages before them. "No, I'm afraid I don't follow," Ernst said, genuine sadness in his voice at his own inability to please. "Here," said Hanschen, softly, taking Ernst's hand in his own, "Let me show you." Hanschen gently guided Ernst's fingers over the page and laid them to rest on the appropriate line. He let his hand linger for a moment longer on top of Ernst's, before turning to look down at him. "There," he said softly, "Do you understand?" Ernst's eyes shown with a quiet hopefulness in the candlelight as he gazed timidly up at Hanschen. "Yes," he said quietly, "Ye-es I think so."
Hanschen knew he would have kissed him right then and there, if Ernst's mother hadn't decided to come knocking on the door precisely at that moment. But the evening had gone remarkably well up until that point. Everything was going according to plan. He just had to finally seal the deal somehow. He had to get Ernst some place where there was no chance for his mother to interfere, some place they could be alone… Hanschen smiled. He knew just the place.
It was several weeks before Hanschen finally managed to get Ernst alone. Every time he tried, the boy always had some excuse for why he had to go home straight away after school. So Hanschen had just gone back with him to his house each time to study. Study. Ha, Hanschen smirked to himself. They may have been talking about schoolwork, but Hanschen knew his own mind lay far from the realms of Greek and Latin. How could he think of anything else, with Ernst so close to his side, gazing up at him in the candlelight? Ernst, timid, delicate Ernst. Delicate as a flower. Beautiful as a flower in the sunlight. With a voice as sweet as a—No. Hanschen stopped his own train of thought. How disgustingly sentimental of him, how utterly romantic. Hanschen cringed. Ernst was rubbing off on him more than he realized.
As the teacher strode back and forth across the room, Hanschen tried hard to refocus his thoughts, away from the sickening sentimental nonsense he'd been dreaming up earlier. He needed to get back to how Hanschen thought, not how Ernst thought. Hanschen didn't think about "emotion", he thought about physicality, sexuality, the raw sensations he could feel with his own body. Like the things he thought about when he looked at those photographs—how he wanted to take Ernst in his arms, pin him to the ground, press his body beneath his and—
"Hanschen?" It was Ernst, timidly standing behind him. The teacher had called "class dismissed," but Hanschen hadn't even noticed. He was still sitting in his chair. Ernst slid into the empty seat beside him. "I have to go home straight away to see my mother and father off. They're going out of town this week, you see." Hanschen perked up. "Well," he continued, "you do understand, I can't study now, but perhaps later, we might be able to go over some of the verses?" Hanschen couldn't believe it. Ernst was entirely alone for the night, and all he could think about was studying! Well, he would certainly change that.
He leaned in confidently towards Ernst. "Meet me tonight in the vineyard, when the bell tolls eight."
"In the vineyard?" Ernst looked surprised. But before he could protest, Hanschen answered, "Yes, I know how much you love the pastoral feeling of nature. Perhaps you could enlighten me."
"Well," Ernst said shyly, "I suppose I could. Should I bring any texts?"
"No," Hanschen replied, raising his eyebrow suggestively, "Just your mouth."
Ernst's jaw dropped.
"To talk," Hanschen clarified, nearly laughing aloud at the look on Ernst's face.
"Oh," said Ernst, laughing nervously. "Ye-es. Of course."