omg im so sorry this is probably the longest any of the chapters will be i really wasn't expecting this to be entirely honest forgive me hhhh
anyway thank you so much for the kind words and faves it means the world to me and back don't be afraid to drop a comment in if i could improve this in any way or if you have some ideas in what you'd like to see happen UwU
Amsterdam - Daughter
The night before felt like a dream and another couple of months later after waking up to the note pinned the fridge telling him that Mathias had left for a job he forgot to inform Lars he had and a quick thank you it seemed like nothing more than a faint fantasy he'd clung to in the hopes of it being true. He'd gone back to classes as the school year continued, listening in on conversations he was not meant to hear and some he was and joining the stoic German who ran history and the bubbly Italian who was in the art department at lunch times.
He held the mug up to exhausted lips and washed away the nagging need to accept sleep with bitter caffeine. He had another forty minutes before the students started flooding back in looking just as drained as he probably did. Lars crouched over his notebook, effortlessly tuning out the enthusiastic chatted from the brunette male sharing his table as he drew listlessly on the pages waiting for the caffeine to kick in. It took his workmate shaking his arm to get him to come back to the waking world and blinking the rest of his dreams and worries out of his eyes he put his professional face on and looked up at the Italian curiously. "Hm?"
"These are really good Lars!" He said, a face too youthful for his actual age of 27 stretched with a smile that should be illegal to wear that early in the morning. "Ah sorry Herr Peeters. Who is he?"
Confused he turned his eyes back down to the pages covered in half down sketches of a face, the chiselled jaw and heavy eyes, the thin, scarred wrists and surprisingly muscled limbs, the bitten down lips tipped up into a barely there smile and wild windswept hair slowly started to piece together and he coughed to hide his embarrassment, pulling the book back to himself he shrugged.
"A...friend."
Even Ludwig narrowed his eyes at that and oh god he shrank down in his seat at that icy stare his discomfort too obvious for his dignity to handle. The tanned hand of the Italian ended up on his elbow again and the warm smile was back on the elder male's face. He whispered quietly, his thick bouncy accent enough to simply make the Dutchman feel some sort of joy. "There's a room beside my classroom, it's always empty use it before you have to go teach. Si?"
He wished he could show he gratitude in something better than a nod but he slipped out from under the other's arm, belongings going with him as he took up the offer. Lars set his things down once the door was open and immediately got to setting himself up a little spot in record time, his headphones plugged in and his hands sketching to their content as he let himself drift away from the soon to be thunderous sound of footsteps up and down the stairs and the mindless talk of teenagers and adults alike. The Dutchman found love such a strange concept, you meet somebody and start to know them and sooner or later everything about them, their entire existence controls everything about you and around you and everything you do and the thoughts that run through your head and the feelings that keep you up at night and he didn't understand the overbearing need to protect whoever it was he fell in love with, the need to keep them in your life or the knowledge that he'd die for the person. It drove him fucking crazy how one entity could do that. Love the way all his habits and hobbies morphed and molded him into the man he was, the way he styled his hair, the aftershave he used, the way his accent grew thicker in the mornings. And how his face appeared on the cover of more and more magazines. eyes sultry and nearly half naked in some compromising pose that was so fitting to see on him yet so strange how he could look like a normal model, pouting in front of a camera yet...
He wasn't really a 'normal' model. He was too topsy turvy to be anything close to normal.
But every time the Dane left for such long periods of time it seemed like this man who he was in love with was nothing more than legend, something he dreamt about rather than an actual person who he had spent time with and stolen a kiss from in his sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep he'd hardly slept since he'd left. Lost too must rest missing that extra weight of warmth that would occasionally join him for no reason that was now gone and left him tossing and turning restlessly in his bed and even when a few hours of unconsciousness would come to him they were fitful. The four walls of his bedroom too big for just him and the house a palace containing one when it should have been two. And in his growing discomfort he found himself out on the clear nights counting stars in the sky until his eyes grew heavy. The point of his pencil splintered across the paper and he hefted out an irritated sigh, exasperatedly sighing and resharpening it he let his eyes ghost over the page of his smile, his eyes, his scarred yet beautiful wrists, the tattoo of wings he'd only seen a glimpse of when the blonde was on his way to the bathroom, the swans neck, and mermaid tails whipping out in dark seas.
Flicking over to a new page he started the process all over again and tried to remember he was at work. Rain thundered against the glass and cars drove by on the damp concrete hissing where they were and he could do nothing more but try and get this out of his system. Impossible he should have already figured. Illogical to keep on trying to wash out what was already buried under his skin and his professionalism was quickly going out the window in his desperation along with his awareness to things outside of his bubble of music and frustration.
"You've taken a liking to Mathias Kohler?" A gruff voice cut through a pause in his music and he yelped in his window of vulnerability, hands flying over the pages of his book and he turned around panicked to the German at his side, opening his mouth and trying to deny it Ludwig simply shook his head. "Don't. Look I know who he is, he's all over magazines don't worry. It's not as if everybody already knows you live with him."
"I-"
"It's fine I'm not going to tell anybody if Herr Vargas doesn't." He chuckled though the humour wasn't anywhere on his face. "Seeing you flustered if something I will definitely take to my grave."
"Um."
"And at a loss for words. Sort yourself out and I suggest you get to class."
And act of boldness had him grabbing the younger teacher by the corners of his collar and crushing their lips together, teeth clicking in hopes that maybe it could change maybe a change of taste in his mouth that wasn't the expensive coffee or the rich red meat that was left against his tongue would chase away the ever present knowledge of Mathias. His work self was completely disconnected by this frenzy for somebody who wasn't there and he couldn't even tell was real and he was so fucking happy when the German didn't let go and let him try and try again until he collapsed forward onto his shoulder and sucked in air as if trying to chase back tears.
"Forgive me. I don't usually act so out of hand." The Dutchman hissed from between his teeth. The burn was still there, the ache still a sharp reminded of what he didn't have. "I...Please don't tell Herr Vargas he'd fucking kill me. Italian's...violent or something...I don't know, don't correct me either."
"That was very...unprofessional of you Lars." When he was pulled back and forced to look into eyes that were too pale and too cold to be anything close to what he was so desperately missing. "But I understand this feeling. However I did go about it a bit differently, wish to know why?"
He nodded.
"I'm German." Smiling as if he'd cracked a joke the younger male laughed awkwardly and patted his shoulder, weakly Lars joined in and quickly scrubbed it off with the crook of his arm to fall back boneless into his seat, guilt in his stomach and regret churning it into a heavy weight. Ludwig left to make sure not to linger afterwards and rubbing his hands over his face he packed up and made his way to his classroom and resisted the urge to yell hopefully back at his ridiculously toned back.
The rest of the day passed of him numbly going through work and slide shows and exercises he'd revised the night before, the students appearing like black shadows behind the lights and their computers as he went over the behaviour of the human mind. Slipping in the occasional statement that suggested personal experience in the subtlest way he could manage. His chest dropping when he went through the stages of mental illness, and highlighting one section for himself to look into later about his flat mate who was quickly becoming something of dreams he wrapped up his final class for the day trying not to notice the way there was a small brunette with bright eyes and paint stains on his shirt sleeves sitting at the back of his lesson for it's entirety. As students came and went from his desk asking questions he answered mechanically and even went as far as to smile a little at a few of the ones who did well in his class, Feliciano began to sift through the crowd until he was at the Dutchman's desk with his eyebrows raised.
"You didn't come to lunch with Lud and me?"
"I was trying to look over all this...I'm...Sorry?"
"It's all okay, we're going to go get something to eat now if you'd like to join us?" He stretched onto his tip toes to look over his paperwork and slumped forward so his elbows were resting on the desk and his head was in his hands. "And you can look at whatever that is, too many long words for an art teacher hm?"
Lars couldn't help but smile a little at that and agreed to get something with the couple. And so they sat falling into a pattern they'd had for nearly a year with the elder male who looked too young for his age and the younger who looked too old talking backwards and forwards amongst each other and occasionally would drag Lars into the conversation. It was friendlier the way they spoke, no words to rip apart the inner most private thoughts and feelings of a person and more the light chatter that should go on between friends about work and friends and gossip that didn't involved people with too big of jobs that other's couldn't even imagine actually existed.
On his bike back from the cafeteria he brought a ticket to go back home for the weekend.
Unthinkingly he brought tickets for two.
xxx
When he came home to the sound of music on the other side of the door he could have thanked a million gods for not giving him what he'd walked in on months earlier and rather was gifted the sight of Mathias swaying from foot to foot to the stereo and a bottle of straight gin in his hands. Dressed down in an undoubtedly expensive ivory dress shirt that had the sleeves rolled to his elbows and a pair of briefs Mathias mouthed along to the lyrics to the song, You see, I've got this disease I can't shake and I'm just rattling through life, hair loose from it's usual glorified and artfully messy style hung in front of his eyes in damp wavy strands. Lars tried ignore the way his mouth watered at seeing the toned legs move the other from side to side in lazy movements or the way that before the rim of the bottle met the other's lips he would swipe his tongue out to wet them and take a long drag. When his head tipped back and his fringe fell away from his face Lars openly stared at the black eye the other sported and the streams of dried blood trailing down from each nostril and over his lips in browning streaks.
He cleared his throat to gain the other's attention and misted over eyes turned in his direction to show he'd claimed it.
"You alright?"
"Swell."
"You look like shit."
"Danke. Got in a bit o' a fight outside ah the office no biggy." His accent was noticeably thicker under the influence and Mathias turned his head again to drink the last of the contents from the bottle, only crouched down to claim another. "Well...somebody sort ah tried to mug m'..."
"Shit are you alright?"
"Got em away...didn't take anythin' so it's fiiiiine. Helt skide perfekt."
"You really don't know how to take of yourself do you?"
"Are ya done?"
Relieved and exhausted he threw his hands up in the air and shuffled back to his own room, leaving the Dane to do whatever he wished in the living room and he was just happy he was back no matter how beaten up he was. Leaving him to self medicate he crawled into his bedroom, the shift of energy from pleasant chatter to an atmosphere charged with something else entirely left the ends of his nerves tingling in anticipation as if he were waiting for something to happen. Pulling his sheets above his head after kicking off his shoes and trying to block out the music that was up a little too loud for the walls to muffle he stared out the window opposite to where he lay. He loved the night with a passion he couldn't quite put his finger on, similar to the way he loved his home country or the too drunk man in the living room. He tried to breathe it in and let the sound of his breathing and the muffled drop of bass outside his door lull him to some level of sleep. He focused entirely on the sound of his own heartbeat and his lungs working oxygen in and out to the point nothing else around him really...mattered.
The heavy weight of somebody dropping into his bed a few minutes later had him shoving his fist into his mouth to muffle an undignified squeak, he hadn't heard anybody come in and it had him frozen for a few moments until a hand came to rest on his face, the lingering smell of tobacco on rough fingertips brushed along his cheeks as if to see if he were stay awake and to which he promptly pretended to be resting soundly up until the 'intruder' slid onto where his stomach was and pressed his face to his shoulder.
He was completely and utterly smashed.
The strong scent of gin pierced his nostrils, effectively infiltrating and assaulting his sense to the point it had him light headed. It over powered the natural scent of oak and the artificial smell of cologne that was forever present on the blonde who was nuzzling against his chest where his heart was hammering away a million miles an hour and balling his hands in his shirt. Mathias's tie was loose around his neck, the top few buttons of his chest baring a deep v of his hairless chest and his vest hung off one arm, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and it would have been comical if not for the fact that holy-shit-he-was-grinding-into-Lars-and-fuck-not-t he-right-time-to-spring-a-boner-thanks. His fingers itched at his sides to sink into the heavily toned muscle of the Dane's thighs and help him with that problem that was stirring between the other's legs and it frustrated him more than anything that he couldn't act on his actions without alerting Mathias that he was indeed in fact 110% awake.
And millisecond by millisecond he slowly thought to hell with it.
His eyes opened and he grabbed the Dane by the legs as he had been holding himself back from doing and pushed his hips through the duvet so the other would be aware of how fucking hard Lars was at that exact moment to which Mathias fucking purred and sat back on the Dutchman's crotch, rolling his hips against the mass in the other's briefs teasingly. Lars was taken aback when he saw the dusting of freckles on the other's cheeks, set alight by the light of the moonlight pouring in through his open windows, it was faint but still there and carefully depositing that information away for later he tipped his head back and out right groaned at the feeling of the other through the sheets. Mathias's mouth latched onto his neck, suckling lightly just enough so no mark would remain but still, it felt incredible. He almost had an aneurysm when that mouth, those lips, and that tongue made it's way up to his mouth.
Up until the Dane locked up, mumbling something that sounded like an apology he slid of the bed and stumble reasonably ungracefully out of the room at rapid speed, the bathroom door being ripped open by the sounds of it and lying down stunned in his place he slowly got up and followed after him. Mathias had his head hanging over the toilet seat, skin sheet white as he vomited up everything he'd eaten during the day and then some until all that came up was bile. He shook violently, eyes squeezed shut as he dry retched and Lars took to wiping his forehead down with a cloth which only at the last minute did he think to soak in water. Gently holding under his chin he wiped at the remaining traces of blood on his face until the cloth was unusable. Mathias's eyes weakly opened and his smile struggled to stay in place while the Dutchman tended to him, his face free of make up showed the purple bruising around his eye and the freckles that added some natural colour to his ghostly complexion.
"You really are a child." Lars muttered and the other snorted in empty amusement before he rested his head back on the edge of the bowl.
"Bare lade...kneppe...just leave me...here I'll be...alright." He tried to smile again as if to reassure the other but it only built up the knot of worry in his gut. Shaking his head he crouched down and pushed back the stray strands of the other's hair and tried not to compare him to Ludwig in the process. He was still slicked with sweat, the cloth of his shirt stuck to his chest and it was tempting and unbelievably unfair but pushing any unwanted thoughts away to the back of his head for the time being he carefully put his arms under the other and picked him up.
He was almost shocked at how skinny he really was, despite the way lean muscle clung to his forearms and legs Mathias weighed practically nothing in his arms. Frowning to himself he got them both through the door and took a turn to the Dane's bedroom.
"Nej...let me go I'm fine."
"You look like you're about to kick the bucket Mathias. You're going to bed." He was a little worried when he fell silent but didn't let it linger for too long until he had the blonde lying down on his side, head rested on the pillow and in the foetal position while he went to get a bucket and another cloth. Tired, Lars kept the bucket close to the bed and wiped the sweat from the other before pulling him up and taking off his shirt without much thought. His ribs were hardly visible which was good by Lars' definition of healthy but it was worrying the way his stomach caved in every so slightly and his hips were more prominent than they perhaps should have been. The Dane let the other do what he wished, practically a rag doll in his hands until he was lying back down again and he opened his eyes back up, hands on Lars' arm to keep him in place pathetically.
"Ophold?" Mathias said, swallowing thickly after he spoke.
"English? German? French?"
"Ah sorry...Stay?" He blinked a few times as if fighting consciousness.
"I'm just in the next..." He bit back the rest of his sentence, it was a window of opportunity and he guessed the other wouldn't remember exactly what happened. So just as he noticed the other was leaning in to brush their lips together, Mathias' sour with vomit and alcohol and Lars' only slightly parted as he exhaled at the tingling from the timid gesture. Nodding he joined Mathias in the bed, keeping to one side he patted the other on the shoulder before rolling onto his stomach.
"Liquid courage hm...works like a charm..."
"Go to sleep Mathias."
The steady breathing coming from the Dane was evidence enough that he followed through with the order.
xxx
He'd woken up once in the night, surprised to find the sheets pulled over both of their heads and the Dane smiling across from him as moonlight penetrated the white covers and filtered through. He'd blinked a few times, hands balled at his cheeks before he'd fallen back asleep, confused and surprisingly at peace. The next morning Mathias looked like death slumped up against the cupboard and watching the coffee machine work it's magic for a few moments. His hands scratching his hip under the band of his briefs. He looked to be perfectly honest like shit, his eyes were bloodshot and his hands shoot violently when he finally had the mug between his fingers. Desperately he downed what he could before setting it up for another. His hair was clumped together in weird places, undoubtedly not been washed and the nights of not sleeping were clear in the dark circles under his eyes. Lars had woken up to watching the other sit on the floor of his bedroom, a pair of aviator shades on that would have been ridiculous if not for how evident it was he was probably sporting the worst headache in existence and was sorting out tiny white piles of pills before taking them in order with a glass of water.
"Paracetamol. Ibuprofen. Daily lithium tablets and paroxetine. Don't worry I'm not trying to off myself yet." Mathias said after he caught the other staring down at him. "I'm taking the shots on the shower first."
After he disappeared into the room and kept his promise of claiming the bathroom, Lars went straight to his room to sort out his clothes and take the time to look up what exactly his flatmate was taking. The other two he knew the use for, he'd have to be an idiot not to but the names of the other two went straight over his head in use. He felt his heart drop in his chest when the names of the other two were brought up in search and his lips tugged down into a frown.
He hadn't suspected anything different. His suspicions about mental illness were confirmed when he went through what he had been teaching his students.
It probably wasn't healthy to take two different types of the same pill.
Closing everything up he took a few moments to let it sink in until he heard the bathroom become free again and let himself use the rest of the hot water, giving himself the sweet time to get ready. And after getting changed Lars made sure to be as annoyingly cheery as he could despite how out of place it may have been and hummed an obnoxious tune as he made his breakfast and greeted the other in the kitchen. He wouldn't let the new knowledge change the fact the other had him up most of the night and he was going to get back his revenge in perhaps the most pathetic way possible without stirring too much shit.
"Did we swap personalities or something over night?" Mathias muttered before the cup had taken it's place back at his mouth while he took his place on his seemingly favourite chair. "Did you get laid or something?"
"Do you like Pink Floyd?" Lars said, swinging himself up onto the bench.
The Dane blinked slowly, mouth hanging open as he let out a drawn out 'uuhhh'. "Yeah...why..."
"Come with me to Amsterdam."
"Eh..?" Mathias looked out him in bare confusion, head tipped back over the edge of the couch a marshmallow between his teeth. "Don't you have like friends?"
Lars dropped the façade and stared at him unimpressed, rolling his eyes he grabbed a fist full of surprisingly soft hair and yanked. "Ja. And if I remember you claimed me as your best friend and you haven't been here in months so lets go out and do what friends do."
"So you don't have friends. And are asking your flatmate, that must be a new low." The Dane grabbed Lars' wrist, nails digging into his skin until he let up and let go. His smile indicated he was joking and Lars remembered quite clearly the 'you know you're my best friend right?' that had been muttered to him in an abandoned mansion weeks ago
"Look are you coming or not? It's only for one maybe two days, you look like you could use a short break anyway."
"..." Mathias sighed, shrugging he went back to his book. "Sounds good. When?"
"Tomorrow."
"Perfect." A smile stretched at the blonde's cheeks.
xxx
On the plane Lars couldn't help but look out of the corner of his eye at the Dane who was smiling to himself as if reminiscing a memory or a joke, originally he was just watching him to distract him from the fact that he was feeding his fear of flying miles above the ground in a piece of tin and that was just no okay and was trying not to break into cold sweats as his fear of heights and flight kicked in. Though the longer he looked, original motive obviously working he watched simply for enjoyment and the sparkle in the other's eyes confused Lars.
"Do you realise we seem to do everything exciting at night? Not that I'm complaining I love the dark but the only time we really went out during the day was when we went to the park."
"Interesting...observation."
"I know right? I swear to god we're nocturnal or something."
When he moved his hand to pick up the plastic cup of water that sat on his bench he realised he was clutching onto Mathias' hand like a vice.
Fuck.
xxx
Amsterdam never failed to make Lars feel at ease, his eyes fell closed as he felt the press of the other's face against the wool of the Dutchman's jersey while they biked around looking for the coffeeshop Lars was sure the other would enjoy and Lars was certain he would keep to his promise of getting him there. He kept half his face obscured by his scarf to hide his smile while he appreciated the warmth contrasting against the cold on his arms and the beaming grin that crossed his expression when the Dane tightened his arms tighter around Lars and his chin propped up against his shoulder to people watch until they arrived at their destination. He mindlessly talked about his favourite places without really thinking about it, pointing out where he used to relax, what he used to do before he moved to Germany and even going as far to ask Mathias if there was anything he wanted to do to which Mathias told him he could chose if he wanted to before he fell into silence again.
The bell chimed overhead when they went in and immediately they were sprung for identification. Both their ID's ended up on the counter before they continued and Mathias stayed quiet, looking around the small shop, mouthing the words to the songs playing overhead.
"Who's your friend there?" The cashier said in thickly accented English, before he could open his mouth to reply Lars cut in smoothly.
"Mathias Kohler."
He smiled as friendly as she could, his hand stuck out to take the cashier's hand and he greeted him warmly before pulling away to grab a seat.
"Mathias. I'm very jealous Lars he's a keeper, ja?"
He laughed quietly scratching the back of his head. "We're uh...we're not together." At the raise of eyebrows he thanked the cashier and moved to the table where Mathias was leaning back, eyes closed as he took in even breaths and his fingers began to drum out to the beat of the music on the tabletop. His crooked smile was still faintly on his mouth and Lars sat back and admired the Dane while he had the chance, looking on the surface you could very much tell he was lovely but looking longer still, even with the fire licking in his eyes when they were open again and giving the Dutchman a blank stare and the slight tense hold to his shoulders he was beautiful.
He was still unable to read him with that easy smile and later on the fluent Dutch that came from him as he engaged in conversation with the couple waiting alongside them, and it made Lars sit in absolute shock as he conversed. He'd been under the impression he didn't understand a word of Dutch yet here he was babbling on about how he liked the city to the others. Lars found himself fascinated at the way he spoke fluidly, never missing a beat to be charming, a never missing the chance to make a joke. It was refreshing to be around, to indulge in the way his words flowed together smoothly, teeth glinting with the curled back lips and it made Lars smile unconsciously, feeling hopelessly warm the longer he sat back and picked apart the finer details. The couple soon left and the Dane pulled out a book from his backpack, the page he was last at bookmarked with a candy wrapper and when he looked over at him curiously, an eyebrow raised, he turned his whole body around to face him properly. "What are you thinking about?"
"Porn." Congratulations Lars. You've done it. Shown how intelligent you are 10/10 truly showing your degree.
"You seem to be feeling rather poetic about life." With a false bat of eyelashes he snickered and picked up his book, busying his mouth with a brownie.
Lars decided that the other was creative in the way he twisted his words and the manipulation of body language, dramatic in some ways, an actor, whereas Lars was creative with a pencil, writing down things that would fill notebook after notebook and drawings that would capture the very essence of life. He smiled warmly at his comment, stuffing the rest of his food into his mouth which was still pulled up at the corners even with a mouth full of god knows what and Mathias smiled back, shaking his head and muttering affectionately under his breath.
"I knew you could smile." The nordic grinned and kept his eyes back on the pages of his book. "I fucking knew it."
With a roll of his eyes he urged the Dane to talk about his life when he was younger, however the slight discomfort he appeared to have been feeling on the topic he smiled tensely and the way he spoke was enough to have Lars almost feeling as if he were there when the blonde was 14 and stole a car to drive around at high speeds through Germany, no questions asked by anybody as he passed by, he could smell the oil, feel the brush of wind caressing his cheeks. He lost himself in the way he described Christiana, the rugged streets coloured with art and crumbling bricks that was beautiful and filthy at the same time and even though he himself had been one to grow up on a farm and seek that out he could imagine the lure such a place must have held to a 16 year old, a vigilante and a rebel that Lars was having a hard time seeing on the sharp features of the Dane apart from the wild shift of his eyes as he spoke and the boisterous gestures that aided him in explaining each part of his story.
Lars spoke of the tulip fields that he'd grown up around, enough for him to sprint through and simply collapse into paddocks of red and yellow. He was a quiet boy back then, in his own little world that consisted of his sister, the stray rabbits that lazied near their house and the kindly couple that raised the two of them until they were old enough to go their own ways. He'd bike from town to town some weekends, let himself feel free as he went wherever he pleased without having to talk to anybody other than the odd street vendor. And later on the street vendor's the offered him his first hit of the drug he'd chosen a strong liking to over all else and he'd moved to central Amsterdam for a while with the remainder of his little inheritance, got himself into a university and coasted things through smoothly until his sister dragged his ass to Germany. Mathias asked seldom questions, his voice hesitant as if worried to disturb the other and Lars simply laughed at that, the way his eyebrows would pull together before he spoke and he half expected him to raise his hand and wait patiently for the Dutchman to finish before inquiring.
Despite the fact Mathias was the sort of asshole who would have pulled chairs out from under people before they sat down in a past life, he was probably the same guy that would have spelt out I love you with fries while the rest were stuffed in his mouth and he was smiling around them. Lars tried to picture a younger Dane, more carefree with less of the world's pressure entrapping him in the manic depression he carried on his shoulders. Lars guessed now however he was the kind of guy who would sit on the beach with an arm slung around whoever's waist to keep them warm from the cold and watch the stars with a silly grin. But the harder he tried to see a younger Mathias he kept on thinking back to the boy in his class he'd seen for barely a day with pen marks on his arms in disturbing images to hide the risen skin of obvious scars.
While they were talking he surprised himself by playing mindlessly with hands that could have belonged to a violinist in another life, frowning at the state of forever beat up knuckles and bitten down nails, the skin around the edges not too much better. Ragged and chewed down out of habit.
"You know biting your nails is a bad habit right?" Lars said, cutting off whatever story Mathias was about to launch into.
"Falling in love with me is a bad habit but people do it anyway." He said pointedly and leaned across with a smile and his voice dropped. "I'm crazy, not stupid."
It was Lars' turn to remain silent.
Then Mathias kissed him.