ah thank you so much for all the sweet reviews it really gave a confidence boost
anyway hmm it's weird I've already figured out part of the ending but the middle of it I'm still struggling to write, how queer I just hope it all flows together nicely enough to appease you amazing readers!
Don't forget to check out the link in chapter 2 for the mix that I'm using as an inspiration to this
hope to read more of your thoughts on this later!

Tessellate by ALT-J

Mathias was back for two months before his next job and those two months were bliss once Lars got over the awkwardness for seeing the Dane in such a compromised position. After he'd scrubbed down the couch thoroughly thrice over when the other was out he was able to it back on it and forget the incident entirely. Upon falling asleep on the cream leather he'd woken up to a warm weight at the end of the couch several times, the blonde all limbs and quiet snores as he draped himself over the arm of the couch and had his legs tangled with the Dutchman's. Lars would prop himself up on his end, sleepily and bleary eyed until he was able to accept it as reality before falling back asleep with a smile on his face. He always woke up again with the heat that was similar to the burn of the sun gone and the Dane going about doing his own thing as if he'd never been asleep.

That continued on every time he fell asleep and he found himself purposefully taking naps in hopes of waking up to the warmth of the other male as a comfort. After a few dozen times it had moved from Mathias simply claiming the end of the couch to actually wrapping his arms around the Dutchman's waist with his cheek pressed against his stomach and it was silly really, how his ears tinged red when he found the male cuddling close in his sleep. Eventually he allowed himself the pleasure of playing with the odd strands of his hair some of the natural hight lights a brilliant golden and some so pale they appeared white. And he would watch him sleep from is resting place on his torso, a hand curled at the side of the Dane's face and for once he was actually able to look at him up close without looking too...creepy... Lars watched the rise and fall of Mathias' chest, his suit jacket draped across himself like blanket and it made him look almost childlike, the crinkles from the corners of his eyes gone, the odd stress lines scrubbed away from his forehead with the notion of rest.

He bent his toes until they cracked, noting how their legs were tangled together, one of Mathias' thighs hitched onto Lars' shin and the other curled under it as if to keep him close. He wondered if it was an unconscious thing. Lars brushed his knuckles against the side of his face, thumb pressed in a feather like touch against the bow of his thin lips until he took to playing with the other's hair again. Tattoos hid acne scarring and took away attention from another scar that went right along the top of his nose, his shirt was replaced for something that looked to big for him and Lars suspected it belonged to the man he'd seen the other with weeks ago, but he was thankful for it. Regretfully. It slipped down his shoulder, the freckles that covered his face extended down the length of his neck and sprinkled the tops of his shoulders that despite how calm he looked in sleeping remained tightly knit and tense, discomfort perhaps from the sleep that he always looked as if he needed despite the enthusiastic manner he carried himself with. He was so different when he was asleep, innocent and gorgeous as opposed to the ruthless teaser and mindless flirt he was when awake.

When his lashes fluttered open in a way that would have had Lars mocking him in an instant, he instead, froze solid and stared back into the pools of his eyes that carried an underlying flash of fear. Swallowing thickly he put a hand on the small of the Dane's back and closed his eyes again in mock sleep until Mathias' breathing regulated from quick panting and back to the snoring he'd grown so accustomed to.

He wasn't expecting the Dane to still be lying beside him, however untangled from him and lying with his back towards Lars, almost hanging off the edge of the couch. Smiling to himself he slipped off carefully and lay the other down without so much as a protest from Mathias would huddles closer to the patch of warmth that had been where Lars lay. Pulling a blanket out of the linen cupboard he threw it over the blonde and took to reversing the roles and continued to sloth a bit and sleep for a little longer.

He was already dreading the day the other would leave for work again.

xxx

It was dark when he woke up, the curtains still open and his bedroom door not too much better. Rubbing his eyes he yawned and sat up, pain in his stomach telling him to get something to eat. He didn't get very far when he saw a figure sitting cross legged on the end of his bed with a book and torch in hand and a package wrapped in gold wrapping paper with a little black bow around it that was suspiciously in the shape of an instrument. When Mathias noticed the other was up he clicked off his light and grinned, teeth white, canines bare and those fucking ridiculously blue eyes practically glowing in the dark.

"Alice told me you like to play guitar. Why'd you sell yours?" Mathias finally said, fingers folding the corner of his page over.

"I...I uh...Needed the money." Lars ran a hand through his hair, unsure of where exactly he should be looking.

"hmmm." The Dane hopped up from the bed and patted the package. "Come into my room and play for me. I just need to go get dinner"

"I..."

"No buts no nothing come on we hardly ever hang out." The Dane leant back and cracked his back before floating out leaving Lars staring at his back in raw shock. "I need something new to listen to anyway."

He pulled the sheets away from himself, kicking his legs to get free before he carefully, so carefully unwrapped the guitar from it's confines and he ran his hands over the vanished wood, plucked a few of the taut strings and took the time to tune it to his liking. It was kind, the gift from the Dane who he took as selfish and a little self centred at times but yet here he was with a fucking guitar on his bed and all Mathias asked for in return was that he play. Naturally he would. He changed into something a little loose fitting and took it in hand, cradling it as if it were a child and made his way to the other's room, following the trail of Indian food that was no doubt their dinner for the night.

It was worth it for the smile that stretched both of the Dane's cheeks, the Dane who picked at his food with his fork and patted the spot in front of him that Lars took to sitting. His nerves tingled unpleasantly and chased away any sign of sleep with how nervous he was. Stupid to be nervous really but he hadn't touched an guitar in a while.

"Who taught you?"

"I taught myself though...I improved when Antonio chose to taught me ah he was from Spain I think." He strummed down and chuckled bitterly. "Hated him with a passion and it was mutual but we still managed to do some things together without killing each other."

Mathias shoved a forkful of rice into his mouth and nodded for the other to go on, swallowing down his nerves he experimentally began to play to try and get his fingers re-familiarised with the keys and then without much warning on his own behalf he really started playing. He'd forgotten how much he missed it, night after night of sitting on bare floors playing non stop until his fingers would almost bleed and he was too high off the music to really care too much and the pattern began to set itself back in the back of his head, and his eyes closed at the notes spoke to him in poetry and left a fine taste in his mouth, rich sweet and nostalgic. The other male lay back on the bed and quietly sang along to the tune, Lars taken aback by how he knew it, smiled tightly and allowed himself to lose himself to the rich sound of the Dane's voice and the melody his fingers created.

He played sad songs and he played happy ones but his fingers smoothly switched the tune without too much of a disturbance when they each ended. The atmosphere that settled over them was strangely familiar, close to deja vu but not. Lars felt as if he'd met the other outside of the kitchen in his sister's home where they'd apparently exchanged glances and names. It was barely a confrontation he remembered but he accepted it. He felt as if the other were somebody who'd sat at the back of his class with his headphones pulled up over his head and his body sitting low in his chair and had disappeared the next day after he'd noticed him. He might have been that boy and he might not have. Something told him not to try and make any comparisons.

Playing music and strumming the strings became mechanical and he was able to be lost to his own thoughts and wonderings about the man in front of him who tapped his fingers along with the beat on his own thigh and hummed under the chords. There was something about him, old and young, like somebody he'd known forever and somebody who was simply a man who passed him on the street. And they spoke over the music on occasion as they had in the lounge months ago. They spoke about religion and fanatics and where they stood in life, work, love, friendships and hardships and it was fitting. Mathias said he had some beliefs but they didn't discuss them. Rather he spoke in the bitter words of his disgust in the injustices in the word. He thought strongly about the way woman were treated, in the way the people who took advantage of the people around them in vile ways were not punished well enough and how he dreamt once when he was younger that he wanted to be the change he wanted to see in the world. Lars ended up speaking about things he never really thought he'd thought about, the wonders of deep space and the secrets that the depths of the sea contained in the deepest parts of the dark, how he couldn't fathom the way breaths would simply disappear with the air and Mathias had laughed and said he'd wish to catch them between his fingertips as a precious memory, evidence of something being real and something that existed like he did with the photos that decorated his bedroom walls. Like he did when he held his camera in his hands and raised it to his eye to catch a photo of the Dutchman who wasn't expecting the flash.

Like the Dutchman who wasn't expecting to find himself sitting on the bed of the blonde he knew but didn't simultaneously. Like Lars who wasn't expecting the easy going man who he suspected to be worse than he was discussing the universe and the meaning of it so easily. If he were any different he would be trying to psychoanalyse Mathias as he spoke to understand more about him and read between the lines. But he would not. He would use him as an example in his classes of somebody who was hard to understand when he seemed so transparent but was truly translucent, you could see the surface but it would refract and show you something you weren't looking for in the first place. And when they lapsed back into quiet he tried to figure out himself when he found the other so interesting, and most of all...

...when he started to fall in love.

He didn't believe in love at first sight though the signs and screaming signals were pointing to it. He simply tried to convince himself it was the charm that drew him in and not how he wanted to dive into the depths of those eyes and open the windows and doors to Mathias' soul through them. It was hideous how his inner poet told him the truth that he was denying once, twice, and thrice over. However unable to make it shut up he let it run freely. When he let his eyes slither open just a fraction he found the other infinite at it lowered himself down to finite, the admiration for a man with such confidence and such skill at hiding how and who and what he was with all his finest details was peculiar.

The food was forgotten until it went cold while Lars went through song after song, some the Dane knew and some he didn't but the whole time he remained relaxed against his sheets, smiling sweetly while the music continued. Lars would have played until his hands were numb and aching but the Dane sat up and put his hand on his. Opening his eyes, a little disorientated from being under the spell he created for so long he stared back and tried to fight the aching need to close the small distance between them. Irrational.

Rather he turned to put the instrument down and took up eating to distract his mouth and Mathias sighed heavily in what Lars was hoping to be disappointment as he chose to follow suit.

"I want to take you somewhere." Mathias finally said, smiling around a mouthful of food as the words pushed past it. "I don't know how much you'll like it though. It's a bit...ruined to be honest but it's nice."

"Ruined but nice?" Sounds like a date.

"Abandoned and probably my favourite place to go when I'm feeling a little contained. I haven't really been there with somebody before but hey if you don't like it when can come back."

"Sounds good." Lars murmured and continued eating. It was hardly late only a little past 8 they could do it. "We'll finish this and go out then."

Mathias smiled with those thin, pale lips towards him and the continued to talk for a while longer, the conversation more teasing than soul searching and it was refreshing and strange the way the Dane was so quick to change the mood to his will. And he would laugh when the Dane did and it was obvious to Lars that he was being too unlike himself to pass it off as just feeling good but the other was so oblivious to it that it wasn't questioned. He was thankful that the sudden love that sparked from ember of a force and the uncontrollable snickering as the Dane gossiped went over the blonde's head.

He'd heard some of the things the other spoke about as people in his classed joked about the things Mathias Køhler, a teenager's wet dream as some of them had described, had gotten involved in at all of the parties and all of the accidental meetings he'd been dragged into and unintentionally wrecked havoc in. When he'd been asked if it were true that he were close to him, from the people that had seen them together on the odd occasion as they ran errands and restocked the kitchen, he'd nodded and kept a poker face as he explained that he lived with him. The news had spread quickly and the Dutchman was seen as some sort of on campus celebrity for so much as talking to the man let alone being his flatmate. But some of the things they'd said made him irritated as they undermined him as a Casanova, a superficial and materialistic idol when the Dane who spoke so deeply about issues and could make anything comfortable with a twist of words was so much more than what they bought him for, what they thought him for. And so much more than the worth they stuck onto the crown of his head, a throned crown of lies, rumours and tainted with the golden thread of the people who thought highly of him. He was more than the convenient lay they'd said he was to the rich and famous, Lars had seen the way he was after he'd given people the satisfaction of saying they'd slept with him, he's walk around his face blank and wouldn't say a word until he worked off the shame and repeated the pattern. Mathias clearly wasn't happy with what he was doing and Lars was starting to understand that the more he spent time around the blonde.

He would have said that if it wouldn't have tip toed into uneven ground and he kept quiet as they finished off their meal and eventually Mathias had slipped away to change out of his rumpled suit. Lars looked at himself in the full body mirror that sat propped up against one of the walls and deemed himself acceptable as he waited for the other to come back and took interest in the pictures on the walls as he had only once before, a room with a single mattress and odds and ends scattered along a thin strip of flooring, a boy who looked no older that 16 with his head pressed against a shoulder that was indefinitely the Dane's, of a girl with silver white hair and blazing eyes who was staring blankly at the camera or the man behind it.

Lars pulled his attention away when he heard the door click back open and Mathias slip through and holy mother of jesus he looked...

"Close your mouth you look like you're trying to catch flies."

...Like that boy he'd stupidly compared him to and simply divine in an jersey that looked too big and jeans that were too tight for Lars' mental state to compute with. A simple black beanie smoothed down the back of his hair and a pair of glasses Lars wasn't even aware he needed perched at the end of his nose. Shaking his head he laughed and stood up, the plates coming with him as he drifted out the door.

"Lets go."

xxx

"Come on!"

"I..."

"Shut up and follow me." When he didn't move Mathias grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him through the sketchier parts of the town they'd driven to for god knows how long to get to. He still felt the false sense of warmth from the Dane's chest against his back and his arms still tingled from where he'd been holding onto his waist as he sat on the back of the motorcycle. He thought himself as Alice being lead through wonderland by the mad hatter.

Instead he was Lars being dragged through a part of the state that he'd never thought to ever exist in such a polished country by an over excited Mathias who would probably be making an ass of himself if Lars hadn't chosen to actually follow him. And his hair was standing on end as the damp smell of something akin to decay and mildew met his nose and had him gritting his teeth from telling the other to leave him outside.

They slipped through a broken window, shard over glass sticking out of the frame and the floorboards groaned worryingly under their feet as they made their way through the deserted building.

"Is this a-"

"I thought we'd go to somewhere that's confining that our little haven or whatever and even if it doesn't have the affect I was going for then too bad because you and I are now here and this is definitely not legal and we're going to have so- don't give me that face look you agreed to it."

"Are we even in Hesse?"

"Not too sure to be honest."

"Are you fucking serious."

"Mhm so boo hoo cry me a river. We'll be back before you know it." Mathias sighed happily and stretched his arms back over his head. "There might be squatters though so be careful. Anywhore lets get going."

"I hate you. I hate you so much this is going to get us thrown in jail and-"

"-I'll be able to bail us out in a second flat. SO. Let me show you around a little."

As they walked the entirely deserted building, Mathias with his camera in his hand and held up a lot of the time they roamed Lars tried to hold back his frustration and tried to enjoy the little personal piece of the Dane he was being shown. He couldn't do it. It was dangerous and entirely out of his comfort zone and probably that's why the other was so drawn to it but he couldn't be fucked trying to put that into Mathias' personality as he edged around something that looked like a dead rat. Mathias took claim on the remnants of a frail looking chair and kicked his feet up on an equally worn down wooden table completely ignorant to the way it protested under his weight, leaning his head back against the splitting support of the seat he lit himself a cigarette.

"You know I heard you had the tendency to be a little rebellious, self destructive and a massive inconsiderate asshole but I didn't think it was to this level."

"A lot of people say a lot of things about me but do I give a fuck." He paused as if to ask himself and laughed loudly, the sound echoing through the halls. "Nope."

"I know I hear a lot of it in my classroom."

"Oh! I feel special do ya tell 'em how amazing I am?"

"I tell them how I want to boot you in the head half the time and that you need a baby sitter."

"Hurts right here Peeters." He held his hand over his heart.

He said nothing. Rolling his eyes he entertained the notion of leaving the Dane stranded and taking the bike but that would entail him to wrestle the other for the keys so he pushed that riiiiiiiight back and sat on a patch of floor left untouched by something other than dust. Never did he ever think he'd end up a) moving in with a millionaire who was younger than him b) agree to get on a fucking motorbike c) climb through a window into an abandoned something that was sure to be riddled with every disease under the sun but alas he digressed as soon as he made eye contact with Mathias who was looking down at him curiously. He seemed to be like city lights, powerful and always present somewhere in the Dutchman's head and forever shining against a blank black canvas that made Lars' fingers itch to draw him, or paint him, or write out everything about him that infuriated and engaged Lars. To paint the moon and the stars and space that made the blonde appear like a constant body of vastness and the potential for extraordinary power and held an element of mystery that frustrated Lars to no end.

Despite the fact he acted like the sun he would always be the image of the ocean to Lars, the human embodiment and personification. Wild, unpredictable, beautiful and just like the endless space they both talked of being scared of
utterly unknown to the world.
And yet the Dutchman felt in the musty room, in the crumbling building as if he knew him better than Mathias knew himself.

He needed to stop writing a fucking novel in his head about how philosophical he got over Mathias. Bad habit. Ew no. But he wouldn't be able to stop. Not when somebody with eyes so god damn clear it should be illegal had their lids half mast and head tilted curiously and oh god no Lars begged silently for him to never ever wet his lips again in front of him because such a simple gesture shouldn't have been so erotic. Coughing the Dutchman turned away and brought his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around them.

"What compelled you to take a liking to this place?'

"For one I'm not a germaphobe like you seem to be." Mathias let his arms dangle at the edges of the bed and shrugged. "I've kind of always been used to shit holes after I went through the whole teenager angst thing, this is really gross I know and I'm sorry for dragging you here but it's better when there's company."

A laugh rumbled at the back of Lars throat and he shook his head. "It's got a charm to it once you really start to appreciate it."

He spoke the truth, despite the way it was rotting from the inside out and was taking it's contents down with it, it was sort of beautiful the way nature had started to take it's claim back on the place, moss scattering bricks that had long since fallen away that brought through the night breeze and vines along with it that climbed the high rising ceilings. A shame how it turned out against the test of time when it would have been incredible to see in it's glory. Lars seemed to have seen the right thing as Mathias nodded along with him, a warm smile sent in his direction before the blonde set to rifling through his back for a pack of candles. A stack of bloated books were sat beside the Dane's foot and a chipped glass along side them and as soon as the dozen or so candles were finally lit and sitting in the centre of the wood did Lars get enough light to be able to look around and taken in the room.

They were in a study.

Bookcases that looked as if they went on forever still held books, some in tatters others showing their age and if it weren't quite so ominous and setting a chill in the Dutchman's stomach he would have gotten up to pick up what remained on the shelves. The longing must have showed on his face as Mathias hummed sadly.

"They're beautiful right? I managed to grab some of the ones that weren't so ruined." He sat forward with his elbows on his knees, the candles flickering light across his face and glinting across the surface of his glasses that slid down his nose. "Most of them are in Latin though, others in something Baltic so I saw no point in getting those the rest are just...water damaged I guess."

"Baltic?"

"Hmm. I imagine this was built around the time the Prussian empire was still up and running." Mathias shrugged again and as Lars stood he could still feel the other's stare on him when he walked towards the literature and dragged his fingers along the spines he could. "But who knows eh? Well a historian maybe but I don't really feel like pulling people over here too soon."

Mold covered the tops of some of the pages that had been affected by expose to nature and rain water, the ones that did not he picked out carefully and flicked through the pages carefully. Most weren't in a language he could understand, others that he may have been able to were too faded for him to make out in the light.

"Can I borrow one of the ones you've got when we get back?"

"Of course. Most of them are diaries I think or you know fairy tales."

It was so quiet in that little secluded building that struggled against the forces of nature. Lars continued to rifle through the shelves, shuffling and thumps as books were pulled out some falling apart and others just clinging on for survival. Homely despite it's ruined appearance, protected despite how it was slowly shedding it's shield of bricks and shattering glass as it weakened. The air was stale and moist with the scent of organic matter that grew freely and the faintest smell of cinnamon wax joined it. Lars kept some of the books under his arms, he could get them translated at the university or struggle to read the faint writing when the morning came.

"I like you." He was unable to bite the words back before they came and quickly taking to rifling through for more salvageable books he felt the warmth of the other's beam against the back of his heated neck.

"I like you too Lars. You know you're my best friend right?" Mathias said suddenly from behind him, his chin propping up on the Dutchman's shoulder. "You treat me like a person instead of an object thanks by the way."

"Are we really having male bonding time here."

"Don't ruin it Lars I'm telling you something important." The blonde chuckled, the back of his hand curling around to brush along Lars' cheek and caused him to lock still in place. "You haven't shaved."

"It's a weekend give me a break."

"Breaks, breaks, breaks we never truly get them and if you got one you wouldn't be living with me would you?" Much to Lars regret the warmth of the other's body left him as he pulled away and took to going back through his bag. "You don't need them really or else you would have refused to have come out with me."

"You're pretty convincing when you want to be." Lars moved back to take a spot on the floor, his back pressed against the softened wood of the table and Mathias pressed both his feet against the Dutchman's thigh, prodding into him with the tips of his toes.

"I didn't have to convince you into coming with me." An apple practically appeared in the Dane's hand and he took a bite, grinning around the fruit. "You would have come with me anyway."

"What makes you so sure?"

That had the other quiet for a few minutes, his lips pursed as he thought and his laughter soon started to cut through the quiet.

"Because I know you better than you think Mr Peeters."

Lars smiled and started to sort through what he'd taken, from what appeared to be medical documents to personal writing, and read what he could under the light of the candles until they burnt out and his counterpart had nothing else to say other than express his inner most thoughts and feelings that only added to the serenity. Needless to say Lars admired and appreciated how Mathias never engaged in small talk, launching straight into topics that wouldn't require answers or fuels to his sentences as he spoke about things that he seemed to have been itching to speak about to somebody who would actually listen to his silken voice.

He craved attention and somebody to just talk at or to without any strings attached and Lars felt a little slither of pride to be able to say he was somebody Mathias trusted enough to be able to do so until the sky started to lighten and they both grew tired. Mathias suggested going back and the Dutchman reluctantly agreed, mixed feelings about stayed and about going but under all logical reasoning it was time to go home.

But he wondered, when exactly did he grow so comfortable as to smile around Mathias?

xxx

He grinned into the dip between Mathias' shoulder blades as they drove off and the sun started to rise above them, the birds starting their morning calls and the wind picking up to rustle the leaves and branches surrounding them.
If he were as crazy in love as he felt he were,
then the object of his affections was purely bat shit insane.