A/N : AmeGer. 1960s West Germany. Some language.

WEST

When Alfred had been drafted into the United States Army in 1967, he had been scared as hell, knowing for sure that he was going to be shipped out to Vietnam. His hands had been shaking so bad when he signed the papers that the guys behind him were laughing. How he hadn't puked right there, he would never know.

Someone or something had been looking out for him, though, because not being drafted right into the Marines meant that he had other options, and Alfred had damn near hit his knees when he was informed he would be patrolling West Germany to keep it out of Russian hands.

Damn! Had never felt such relief.

He wasn't a coward, mind, but what fool would ever refuse to count his blessings during a war that he was being sent on peaceful patrol? Not a one.

Mostly peaceful, he should say.

He arrived to a good bit of chaos, as demonstrations were breaking out left and right, both in favor of and against the war in Vietnam. The Germans seemed rather torn, although, Alfred was assured during the briefing, the Germans were very fond of American soldiers, regardless of how they felt about the war.

That was good news.

Of course the West Germans loved the Americans; as far as they were concerned (or so Alfred was repeatedly told), the Americans were the only thing keeping them safe from the Russian military might lurking right on the other side of that wall. West Berliners were deathly afraid of ending up like their Eastern brothers, and Alfred certainly felt for them on that end.

So, with that in mind, the anti-war demonstrations were never once directed at American soldiers. Merely politicians, and American soldiers patrolling nearby were always respected and spoken to very kindly.

Alfred did notice that the pro-war demonstrations weren't really so much pro-war as simply...well, pro-American. They flew American flags, and played American rock and roll music, holding posters of American actors and singers. It was a little bizarre for Alfred, but this was his first time ever away from home, so everything here was a little bizarre if he were honest.

Was still in that culture shock phase.

Felt so far out of his element. He had just been plucked out of the countryside one day and tossed into a foreign country. He gawked around at everything he saw, always asking his comrades question after question about this and that. He met one guy that was as lost and confused as he was, some kid named Matthew, and Alfred had stuck with him in an instant. Together they patrolled the area, enjoying new sights and smells and the sound of a different language.

Sometimes, when they were feeling brave, they chatted with the locals that came up to them to practice their English.

Everyone was nice, and exceedingly polite.

How great!

It wasn't bad here at all, and Germany very quickly sat well with Alfred. Matthew too, clearly, because he had brought a Polaroid camera with him from home and was constantly snapping away, tucking all of the photos so happily in his pocket.

Then, one Saturday afternoon, they were keeping watch on a pro-war (pro-American?) demonstration in front of the US embassy.

That was when Alfred had first met that man.

He stood up upon the makeshift stage they had set up, speaking to the crowd below. His voice was deep, thunderous, very commanding and yet very comforting in a way. A rumble that was quite soothing.

Alfred had noticed him in an instant, if only because he was so eye-catching. Pale as could be, with platinum hair, and eyes that were the same shade as the sky above him. Just caught Alfred's attention right off.

Alfred's feet had moved of their own accord, perhaps, because he didn't remember walking over to that man at all. Just remembered suddenly being in the middle of the crowd, right in front of that stage, and being close enough to see the circles under that man's eyes and the freckle on the side of his neck, and then the man had glanced over and their gazes had met.

Those eyes. Prettiest he had ever seen.

The man carried on speaking in German, and Alfred stood there and listened to him the entire while he spoke, not understanding a single word but loving the sound of it anyway. The Germans seemed happy enough to have Alfred standing there amongst them, and many of them clapped him on the back as they passed to and fro.

Matthew stood far back, and took some pictures.

When the tall blond above had finished speaking, he gave the stage to another man, and walked down. Alfred followed him with his eyes the entire while, the German glancing over at him very frequently, and when he disappeared into the crowd, Alfred realized that he had been smiling dumbly the whole while.

Well. Was certainly one of the more handsome fellows Alfred had ever seen, for sure.

Suddenly, those days in front of the US embassy were Alfred's favorite, because without fail Alfred would see that same man, walking briskly down the street. It didn't take Alfred long to realize that he attended the university nearby. Whenever he walked past, Alfred would pop up on his toes, move about a lot, trying to catch his attention without leaving his post, and always succeeded.

The pale man always cast Alfred a long, intense glance as he walked confidently by, and Alfred just smiled at him and watched him until he was gone.

A few weeks of this, before the next demonstration came. It was a bit larger than the last one had been, and this time it was on a different street, a bit more run down. A few abandoned buildings here and there, partially destroyed in the war and yet to be rebuilt. Alfred liked patrolling the demonstrations, because it was far less boring than guarding the embassy. Liked the ruckus and the noise and the people and the music, but disliked having to wear the metal helmet in those times. The strap under his chin always agitated him.

Alfred patrolled happily that day, and was always popping up on his toes to sweep the crowd and search for that pale hair. Didn't take him too long to catch a glint of it, quite the lighthouse, and Alfred steadily edged his way towards that beacon.

When he was closer, he could see that it was indeed the man he was looking for, and he crept ever closer yet, trying not to be very obvious.

The man in question glanced over, saw Alfred, and straightened up quite tall and dignified, clasping his hands behind his back and giving Alfred that piercing stare Alfred had started looking forward to. Alfred stood there on the outskirts of the crowd, and realized before long that the German was edging his way to the end of the crowd in Alfred's direction.

Alfred was probably smiling stupidly, despite every effort not to.

When the German had freed himself of the crowd around him and they stood just a bit apart, Alfred finally gathered up his nerve and said, loudly so as to be heard over the ruckus, "You help organize these things or something? You're always here!"

No response.

Just a quirked brow, a half-smile, and Alfred tried, "I see ya going to the university. What do ya study?"

A tilted head.

No answer at all, not a sound, and Alfred realized, saying, "Damn, you can't understand me. Too bad."

A shame, really, because he had desperately wanted to talk to this man. Couldn't exactly say why. He was just so handsome, eye-catching, and Alfred was drawn to him.

The German suddenly looked around, and then reached out and unexpectedly grabbed Alfred's hand and began tugging him along. His heart raced with excitement and nervousness, but Alfred followed him anyway, despite knowing he shouldn't have left his post.

Could never have refused that man.

Felt a bit then like he had gone to war, hunkering over and rifle in hand, slinking through alleys and dark shadows to avoid being seen.

Exhilarating.

The German suddenly turned abruptly, and Alfred realized he had been dragged into an old bombed building, isolated and quiet and quite dark. Broken stones and concrete all around, as dusty light crept in from the cracks.

Could hear the demonstration far in the distance.

Alfred looked around at where he had been brought, no one else in sight and completely alone, and wondered if maybe he had gotten in a bit over his head.

Although he knew it was pointless, he slung his rifle over his back and asked the German, "Why the hell did you bring me here? I was kinda hopin' that we could just go have a beer or something like that. This is a little creepy, for my tastes."

Certainly eerie, this building, with those dusty beams of sunlight struggling along.

The German just studied him. Seemed rather curious, at who only knew what, and Alfred felt very dissected indeed under those sharp eyes.

Might have been shifting his weight, and when it was too intense Alfred finally asked with a laugh, "What? I got something on my face?"

Perhaps not.

Suddenly, there in the dark, the chaos outside muffled and distant, the German pressed forward and kissed Alfred's cheek. Shock, quite deep, and the German quickly pulled back, looking Alfred up and down and then turning to walk away, as if nothing had happened.

Whoa! No kissing and running!

Alfred snatched out to grab his wrist, sputtering, "H-hey! Not so fast! Where are you going? You can't leave me like that, come on! The hell?"

The German fell complacently still, once more giving Alfred a good look over, and even though Alfred knew that he wasn't being understood, he asked, "Why'd you do that, huh? Why'd you kiss me?"

A lift of a brow, a rather coy smile, and the German shook his head a bit before trying once more to walk away.

Alfred refused to let him, whirling him back around, too furiously perhaps because they were chest to chest then and the German's hands had snatched out and grabbed his waist for balance.

Their noses nearly bumped then, and Alfred held the German very firmly in place, not allowing him to escape, his eyes running over that handsome face as he murmured, deeply, "Is that why you brought me here, huh? Where are you going? Kinda rude of ya, don't ya think? Kissin' a guy and getting his hopes up and then running away."

The German studied Alfred's face as intensely as Alfred studied his, and then he whispered something in German, voice so deep and rumbling that Alfred could feel it reverberating up his chest as he spoke. Shivered a bit at the sound, and although he knew he was breaking a hell of a lot of rules, Alfred was far beyond the point of caring.

He held the man in his hands still, and pressed forward to kiss him, and this time on the lips.

He was responded to quite enthusiastically, the German's arms flying up to loop around his neck, and Alfred momentarily forgot where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. Losing focus had always been a very bad habit of his, but who could really blame him that time, in the shadows with a pretty stranger and being kissed out of nowhere? Alfred was only a man, after all, and men were susceptible to seduction.

And, boy, had he ever been seduced.

The next thing dazed Alfred knew, the German had unclasped his helmet and tossed it aside, Alfred's hands had long since grabbed the German's thighs, one leg up against his waist, and he wasn't sure where his belt had gone.

Ah, who cared? Better not to have it.

Goddamn, were those legs ever long—

He fumbled his rifle to the floor, and they wound up on the ground in a heap shortly after, those long legs wrapped around him like a vice. Couldn't stop running his hands up and down them, and it was an entirely surreal situation. Didn't even know this man's name!

Yet here he was, warm hands undoing his jacket and then running beneath his undershirt, as his own hands clumsily unclasped the German's belt.

Certainly wasn't his most professional moment as a soldier, but was by far his most exciting. Just him and some stranger, in this dusty, crumbling building, as the city bustled on outside and they were left in their own little world. Just the two of them, entangled and breathing heavily, Alfred's face buried in the German's shoulder, falling into the entrancing scent of his hair and cologne, mingled with sweat and the dust of the building. Warm hands running up his back. Nails digging into shoulders.

The most reckless thing he had ever done, and for that the most wonderful.

The happiest minutes of his life, those that made up that hour he fled his responsibilities, and when he was panting and covered in sweat, those hands fell on the back of his neck, the German pressed upward, and kissed him.

Couldn't remember the last time he had felt loved.

He rested his head atop the German's breast, listening to his heart as he caught his breath, and when he stopped breathing heavily, he opened his mouth, and started whispering whatever came to mind.

The German didn't understand a damn thing he said, so there was no pressure.

"I was so scared when they summoned me, you know? Even when I knew I was coming here and didn't have to go to Vietnam, I was still scared. I've never been away from home. Sad, I know. I'm just some dumb country kid, what do I know about the world? I wasn't meant to be all the way out here. I never thought I would ever be a soldier. I kinda wanted to be a pilot. I think I'd like that. Maybe when I get discharged, I'll try it out. I worry that maybe with my glasses they won't let me fly. Maybe it was for the best I got sent here. I sure am learning new things. It's nothing like what I thought it would be. I like it." He raised the German's hand up, kissed the top of it, and said, "If I'd'a known this was gonna happen, I'd'a signed up before they could draft me. I'll stay here as long as they want me to. I think I already fell in love with this place. God—you're so pretty. I think this is the safest I've ever felt."

And he meant that.

Somehow, in some bizarre way, he hadn't ever felt so safe as he did then, held in this stranger's arms and being shown undeserved affection.

Insane, but beautiful.

Fingers brushing lightly under the base of his hair, and he shivered, smiling yet.

"But hey," Alfred added, very quickly, "Don't you go thinkin' that I just sleep with anyone without even knowing their names. I ain't like that. I don't know how the hell you did it. Sure am glad you did, though. This is something I'm sure as hell gonna remember for the rest of my life. Think I needed this. I was feeling pretty lonely here."

A comforting silence, as Alfred burrowed his face into that pale neck and exhaled.

Wished he coulda stayed in this moment forever.

And then suddenly, out of nowhere, the German kissed Alfred's forehead and said, "Men like you are the reason I love the Americans. I like to imagine every single one is like this."

Alfred pulled back in shock, eyes wide and mouth open, and the German laughed at his expression.

Son of a bitch!

"You little liar!" Alfred cried, as he pulled farther back to gawk down at the man beneath him. "You've been letting me make a fool of myself this whole time!"

Damn, was he ever embarrassed. Knew his face was red. How humiliating, sayin' all that shit!

The German seemed very unbothered, and raised a hand up to sweep Alfred's damp bangs out of his eyes, and said, primly, "I never lied. I never once said I didn't speak English. You assumed that on your own. You never actually asked outright."

Well...yeah, actually. He had just assumed, come to think, although in all fairness it had been an assumption he had been directed to by that silence.

So Alfred amended, "You misled me."

"Maybe. It was cute, you thinking I couldn't understand. I certainly got to know you better."

Alfred scoffed, and well, that was probably true, so he let it go and just collapsed back down, heavily, and settled back in. From the sound of it, the demonstration was still going strong and no one was going to notice he was missing until it disbanded.

He spent a good long half hour then, perhaps, just enjoying that warmth and comfort, running their hands over each other.

Time to go, though, far too soon, and Alfred kissed the German's neck before reluctantly rolling off of him with a sigh.

Hated leaving behind that feeling.

They dressed quickly, tidied themselves, the German made a grand show of putting Alfred's helmet back atop his head and clasping it, impeded frequently as Alfred pressed forward to kiss him.

With a gentle bump of his fist on the top of Alfred's helmet, the German turned and started walking away without a single word.

Alfred lifted his hands in the air, helplessly, and called, "Aren't you at least gonna tell me your name? Huh?"

The German looked back at him, cool as ever, and replied, so cattily, "You seem like the sort that enjoys a bit of mystery in your life."

Not really.

He walked off again, and Alfred tried, desperately, "Well—! Hey! Can you at least come back tomorrow? Come to the embassy. My buddy has a camera; I at least want a picture of you to take home. Please?"

The German turned around again, and seemed quite flattered at that. He changed tune then, perked up, and said, more amicably, "Ah! A photo? In that case, I will come. See you tomorrow, soldier. Noon."

Yes—!

Alfred clenched his fist in excitement, skittered off back to his post, spent the rest of the day beaming, high in the clouds, and counted down the minutes until the next day.

The German was as good as his word, and appeared there in front of the embassy precisely at noon, and Alfred felt himself puffing out and lighting up, abandoning his station in a second to walk over to the German, beckoning Matthew forward. Matthew was a bit more reluctant to leave his post, and Alfred finally had to grab his arm and drag him over. He complied, eventually, lifting the camera around his neck up and framing them as Alfred squirmed into the German's side.

"Ready?"

Alfred reached out at the very last second, and slung his arm over the German's shoulder, and he was damn glad he did, in hindsight, because that was the only way he had gotten a real and honest smile in that shot.

What a sight it was.

Alfred tucked the Polaroid very happily in his breast pocket, as the German eyed him, and then he asked Alfred, "Happy now? You have your photo."

"I'll be happier if you tell me your name."

The German's pale eyes flitted back and forth between Alfred and Matthew, and he bit his bottom lip as he seemed very deep in thought.

"I'll tell you what," he uttered, in that deep voice, "One more photo, for me to have, and I'll give you my name."

"Deal!" Alfred instantly cried, and was quick to snatch Matthew's wrist and yank him back over.

Alfred wrangled the German once more into a pose, and this time the German was the one to sling his arm over Alfred's shoulder. Nothing like it in the world, that feeling.

Alfred took the photo from Matthew, and held it teasingly in front of the German, saying, "Alright. A deal's a deal. What's your name?"

A very handsome smile.

"Ludwig."

Alfred stared at him for a bit, and then scrounged around in his pocket for a pen, muttering, casually, "Yeah, ah—can you write that down?"

Didn't even know how the hell to repeat that name, and didn't want to make more of a fool of himself than the already had. But the German was patient and polite as always, humoring Alfred. They scribbled each others names on the backs of the photos, and Alfred felt quite on top of the world. The German just scrutinized Alfred, as he always seemed to, and silently walked away. Alfred watched him go, mood high and spirits higher.

Alfred was stationed in West Germany for a year, and he saw Ludwig every Saturday night.

They knew eventually they would be parted, but lived in the moment and enjoyed each others company.

Before he was shipped back home, Alfred snuck out, and saw Ludwig one final time. That was the most beautiful, the happiest, the most comforting, and yet also the saddest night of his life. A wonderful dream that had to end. As they said goodbye, Ludwig pressed forward and kissed his cheek, as he had the very first time.

Alfred mighta cried a little (a lot later on alone), but would never admit it.

They parted ways forever, as it was always meant to be.

Many years later, looking back on it, Alfred could say for absolute certain that his favorite memory of serving in the United States Army was posing for that picture that he still carried in his wallet.

Wondered what Ludwig was up to these days?

Alfred was quite overdue for a vacation. Maybe it was time to go back to Germany, now that it was whole. See what new trouble he could get himself into as a very ruggedly handsome forty-year-old.

Maybe, even, someone over there may have been waiting for him.