Work Text:
1.
The first time it happened they were in math class. It was early in the morning and the sun was hitting their windows directly. The room was quiet except for the scratching of pencil on paper.
Albrecht was concentrated on his exercises until suddenly a hand tucked on his notebook. Startled, he looked to his right and was met with Friedrich’s questioning look. Faking annoyance, Albrecht slid his exercises in between them so both of them could see them. He had planned to continue calculating, but his eyes got caught on his desk mate.
Friedrich was concentrated, looking from one book to the other, copying his answers with his messy handwriting. From time to time, his hair would fall to the front, so he had to run his hand through it.
Albrecht didn’t actually try to, but he wouldn’t have been able to look away anyway. Friedrich was sitting between Albrecht and the window. The light was hitting him from the side making his hair glow. The blonde was now reflecting almost golden. His profile was being outlined by the sun rays. Albrecht was reminded of how sculpted his friend looked. He let his eyes travel from the golden hair, along the sharp outline of the nose, over the lips that were pressed together in concentration, to the clenched jaw.
His friend looked perfect, almost surreal. Christoph had gloated to other students about him more than once. Vorzeige Arier. The ideal of the Aryans. Albrecht had never really cared for the value of certain looks. In that moment, looking at Friedrich, he thought he understood. Why bother with anyone else, if there were people that could look like that.
His eyes couldn’t let go of his friends profile, as if sculpting it themselves. He had the urge of lifting his hand and letting his fingers trail the line the light was drawing.
Before he could do anything about it, Friedrich turned to him and tapped with his pencil on Albrecht’s paper.
“5 minutes!” Albrecht had to blink a few times before he could realize what the teacher had meant. Where there really only 5 minutes left? There had been 20 left just moments ago.
“Fallen asleep there?” mocked Friedrich. Had he? No. He would have realized if he had fallen asleep.
Albrecht shook his head and looked at the exercises in front of him. Friedrich’s pencil was pointing at the last one, the one Albrecht hadn’t finished. He started writing quickly and Friedrich chuckled.
2.
A few days later, they were all sitting around the table in their room. They were talking about their German exam next week, Albrecht hadn’t really said anything yet, but was listening contently.
“I don’t know how Vogler expects me to do it! He knows my time schedule,” Friedrich complained. Then he looked at Albrecht. The pointed look taking him aback. “You could help me! Can you?”
Friedrich was looking at him with his blue eyes and Albrecht almost immediately forgot the question. He had noticed his friend’s eyes the first time he had seen him, but it was as if he was seeing them in a new light.
“Please! I’ll do anything.” The pleading sound in Friedrich’s voice made Albrecht smile. There was something pleading in his eyes too, but there was also something Albrecht couldn’t quite place. Something between admiration and adoration. Friedrich said something else, smiling, but Albrecht didn’t register it.
He felt caught in the gaze of his friend, as if it had turned him into stone. At the same time it felt like if he were to stand up his legs wouldn’t be able to support his weight. What was happening? His friend’s eyes were the same as always. Heck, they were the same eyes almost every boy in this school had. Even so, there was something special. Friedrich’s eyes were the only ones Albrecht wanted to look at, be looked at with.
As fast as he had been submerged in the blue sea, he was ripped out of it. A hand was waving in front of him.
“Earth to Albrecht,” came from Hefe, “anyone there?”
Albrecht inhaled slowly, like grasping for air after braking the surface.
“What?” He turned to Hefe who was laughing next to him.
“Friedrich asked you a question.” Christoph provided, while Hefe just continued laughing.
“Are you alright? You have been distracted lately.” Friedrich looked worried now.
“All good,” he answered standing up, “I have to pee.”
“Will you help me with German then?”
“Uh huh.” Was all Albrecht answered before opening the door and leaving.
Was everything alright? Was he getting sick? Whatever it was, it had to stop. Friedrich found it weird already, Albrecht had to get himself together.
3.
He did in fact not get himself together. Arguably, it had only gotten worse. Friedrich had become like the sun, blinding, captivating. Albrecht felt empty or at least numb. Even if he tried to put some distance between the two of them, he couldn’t stop thinking about his friend and the sun’s warmth he was now missing. Something was definitely wrong with him.
At least Friedrich didn’t seem to notice. Since the state had become almost constant, Albrecht had gotten better at not getting distracted. In class it was easiest, they mostly worked in silence and Albrecht could concentrate on the task at hand, keeping himself from looking at Friedrich from time to time.
Like at the moment in art class. They were painting the motive in front of them on a canvas . Albrecht’s work was fine. He wasn’t good, but he wasn’t bad either, enough to keep him focussed.
“Psst, Albrecht!” Came from the left, because of course it did.
“Friedrich, I have to work.” He knew his friend was looking at him disappointingly even without looking.
“But you have something…”, still not looking, he heard Friedrich take a step forward.
“There.” He felt Friedrich’s fingers brush his cheek with something cold. Paint.
Now Albrecht turned. His friend had a shit eating grin on his face and was wiping his hands clean on a rug.
“You-” Albrecht whispered loudly, thinking of all the names he could call the other.
Slowly he wiped the paint of his cheek. Friedrich looked at him, eyebrows raised, hands behind his back, cocky grin still tugging at the corner of his lips.
Albrecht, as practised as he was now, pushed down the thought about how cool the other one looked right now. Instead he calculated before quickly taking a step forwards. Raising his hand at the same time, he tried to give the owner back his paint. With the ease of a boxer, Friedrich evaded, stopping Albrecht’s fist mid-air. He held his wrist with one hand, fingers easily closing around it. Albrecht’s brain seemed to stop working. He looked at their hands.
Where their skins met, it felt as if he was being burned. Friedrich’s palm was raspy, matching the look of his knuckles. His touch was soft, but with a strength that Albrecht knew he wouldn’t be able to escape. Friedrich raised his other hand and carefully wiped the paint of his fingers. It felt as if he was sending electricity through his skin.
The paint ended up in the rug, but Albrecht wasn’t let go.
“You missed something,” Friedrich whispered before going with his thumb over Albrecht’s cheek. He smiled innocently and went back to his work. Albrecht kept standing there for a moment before doing the same. Although he did not pick up his brush again.
Having gotten so close to the sun, he had been burn ed . His cheeks were probably red. He looked over at Friedrich who was painting as if nothing had happened. Was this normal? Albrecht tried to imagine how he would feel if one of his other friends did that. It would definitely feel weird, but it would also feel very different. He pictured Hefe, then Christopher, both going trough the movements they had just did. B efore he could go on to Tjaden, Friedrich’s hand s were in his mind again. But instead of brushing over his cheek like it had just done, one hand rested on his cheek then on the side of his neck. The other one was first on his chest then holding his waist. Always a soft touch, but with a strength and weight that held Albrecht in place.
The bell brought Albrecht back to reality.
4.
Albrecht didn’t have those kind of thoughts again. Not only were they wrong and probably illegal in nature, if Friedrich were to find out he would be disgusted and would never speak to him again, if not worse.
Luckily he was able to avoid Friedrich for the next week without doing much himself. Like yesterday, when Friedrich had a full load of practise and in his “breaks” Vogler was helping him with German. Albrecht felt somewhat sorry for his friend, but his busy schedule played right into his cards. That was, until today.
“Pencils down. You too Wilhelm.” They had just finished writing their exam and in a few hours Friedrich would have won his fight. Leaving his next days free to torture Albrecht.
As he was walking out of the classroom, a heavy arm lay down across his shoulders. He had almost forgotten how Friedrich’s touch tucked at his insides.
“You free right now?”
“Why?” With as much difficulty as Albrecht was having, Friedrich walked.
“I need your help.”
Albrecht was so powerless, he was ashamed. Friedrich led the way and suddenly they were in front of the changing rooms to the gym.
“What am I doing?” Friedrich just opened the door and nodded for Albrecht to go in.
“Come on, it’ll take nothing.” It took Albrecht’s will power not to turn him down.
His friend followed him inside and took of his shir t. He tossed in on one of the benches and started rummaging in his bag.
Albrecht quickly busied himself with putting his own bag on another bench and taking of his jacket.
“Ah shit, I forgot! You’ll have to wait until I warmed up, is that alright?” Albrecht rarely was in this changing room, so it was genuine interest that made him look around the room.
“Then it will only take you a minute.” Albrecht hummed in approval.
“You are a saint,” Friedrich opened the door to the gym, “I’ll be right back!”
After a while Albrecht got bored and followed his friend. He found him doing pull ups on one of the bars on the other side of the room. He watched him from afar leaning on the wall. There was nothing wrong with looking at your friend doing exercise. If the body of said friend was so adherent to the standards of society, it was only natural to look at it. His father was always pointing at boxers telling Albrecht to look at them (also to be like them, but that wasn’t important right now).
He was doing what he was told, by looking at Friedrich’s arms while he came over.
“I think that’s enough,” he told him while rolling his shoulders. Albrecht watched as his muscles tightened and moved under a fine layer of sweat.
“What am I doing?” he asked again, this time following him inside the changing room. Friedrich took something from his bag and gave it Albrecht.
“Putting this on me,” he answered, drying his sweat with a towel.
Albrecht looked at the cream he had in his hand.
“Do it yourself.” Watching was fine, appropriate. How was rubbing his chest okay?
“If I could I wouldn’t be asking. Firstly, I can’t reach my back.” As he turned around, Albrecht rubbed some of the cream between his hands.
“Secondly, the feeling of sticky hands in the gloves.”
“What is it for?” Albrecht had to keep him talking, he was thinking to much already about the way his friend’s back had flinched when Albrecht had touched him.
“The amount of exercise I had this week made itself show. The cream relieves the sore or something. Vogler gave it to me.”
He finished with the lower back before stepping away and getting more cream. Friedrich turned around and looked at him with a piercing look. Albrecht swallowed dry.
Friedrich had asked him. He was being a good friend . Still, Albrecht was hating himself for the tuck his insides were experiencing while being confronted with his friend’s chest. Not just his chest. The way his abs flexed as his cold fingers touched them. The way his chest expanded, muscles stretching as Friedrich took a deep breath. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed and his neck felt beneath his hands.
“Nervous before the game?” He couldn’t imagine Friedrich being more nervous than Albrecht in that moment, but he had to get his mind and most of all his body out of it. But Friedrich only made something like a grunt. Something indifferent and low.
“Will you watch?” His voice relaxed, not much louder than a whisper.
He had done enough watching. He wanted to continue touching his friend. Not just putting lotion on his body, but exploring his muscles with his fingers. Squeezing his waist, testing how the other muscles reacted.
“Of course,” he pressed out. He didn’t meet Friedrich’s eyes, training is focus on the arm he held between his hands.
He watched how his muscles moved as Friedrich beat his opponen t. Albrecht knew the things he wished for were illegal. Still, he got lost in every detail of his best friend, in a way that made sure he wasn’t Friedrich’s friend. Even if Friedrich didn’t know.
5.
“The others went directly to lunch,” Friedrich told him when he entered. Albrecht had ran to their room as soon as the match had finished. Albrecht nodded.
“I’ll go soon,” he said, turning away from the window.
Friedrich hummed in agreement and changed quickly. The smile he always had after a fight didn’t falter even a second. Albrecht watched his lips and the dimples they formed. There was a trace of blood on the other’s lips, which for some reason Albrecht wanted to taste. He knew what most of Friedrich’s body felt like. Just a few places where missing. Friedrich turned to him, his smile changing slightly. It would look the same to everyone else. Everyone else didn’t watch so closely. He kept looking, trying to figure out what the smile, that was so similar to his winning one, meant.
“What are you thinking about?” Friedrich asked stepping closer.
“Your-” lips. He could stop himself, albeit too late. He looked quickly into the other’s eyes. Friedrich’s were searching.
“My?” Friedrich raised his eyebrows.
“You-” there was a end to his sentence, but Friedrich’s lips tensed, catching Albrecht’s attention again.
“I?” Friedrich took another step forward. They were so close now that Albrecht had to crane his neck slightly. He raised his hand in the attempt to push the other away, but with so little conviction, that it ended up resting on his chest.
“I-” He started to feel ridiculous, not being able to say more than one sylable. There just wasn’t another thought in his head than the boy standing in front of him.
“Are your thoughts far away again?” Friedrich smiled softly.
“No,” Albrecht took a deep breath, “they are right here.”
“Do you want something more to think about?” Friedrich was the one looking at the other’s lips now. Albrecht couldn’t move. Something in him wanted to run away scared, another wanted to lean forward.
H e had done enough watching.
Pulling on Friedrich’s shirt lightly and leaning forward he closed the distance in between them. The kiss was soft, but it felt like two strong magnets that didn’t want to separate. Friedrich’s hands where on his hips like two anchors holding him in place. Albrecht tasted the blood on the other’s lips and went looking for it with his tongue. The hands on his hips squeezed before one of them buried itself in Albrecht’s hair. A faint pull was enough for him to lean against the window sill.
Suddenly they heard steps outside the door making them jump apart. Just in time for the door opening with a thud.
“You guys coming?” Albrecht liked Hefe, he really did. He also wanted to really toss him out of the window.