Chapter Text
—Dresden, Germany, 1941—
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It was a warm spring noon in Nazi Germany, a shorter Wehrmacht soldier was wandering around a flower shop. He was quite an eye catching individual, his eyes were large and black, matching his short black hair, his nose was slightly pointed, straight and upturned, his cheeks covered in freckles. He looked pretty young, younger than he actually was, which matched his behavior which was also typical to way younger folks.
He was smiling brightly, his lips slightly parted, showing a large gap between his front teeth.
His eyes browsed the flowers and bouquets, even though he was holding one he already bought.
He was spending his free time here, looking at flowers almost every day, the florist knew him like the back of her hand. Almost everyone in the town did.
He was the cheerful soldier who was walking around the town with flowers in his hands all the time. If he wasn't wearing that field gray wool uniform, you wouldn't even think about him being a soldier.
He was quietly admiring the flowers, humming a melody to himself. A casual day for the serviceman.
Suddenly, the door opened with a loud click — in the doorway stood a tall, blond Waffen-SS officer, a few people turned to look at the tall man, his face looked serious by itself, that crooked nose and visible smile lines running from his nose to the corners of his mouth — more a sign of age than smiling. The natural serious look hardened by his thick blond eyebrows pointing inward over his piercing blue eyes as he frowned.
The shorter soldier didn’t bat an eye at the opening door, until he heard loud footsteps right behind himself — The loud thud of leather rider boots. He quickly turned, almost bumping into the taller man’s chest because of how close he was.
For a moment he was speechless, shocked, taking in the sight of the black jacket and the shiny silver buttons sewn on it.
His eyes slowly moved up to look at the man's face.
"H-hail—!" he blurted out, greeting the officer. The officer smirked slightly.
The officer leaned in to examine the other man's face closer, his eyes lingering on the gap between his teeth before flicking up to meet the soldier's frightened gaze.
"Name and unit, Soldat," the tall officer commanded.
"Hans-" He broke off. "Johannes Klein, sir! Infanterie-Ersatz-Bataillon," said the shorter man nervously, his eyes still fixated on the crisp black SS uniform — it looked so powerful and dominant, just like on those posters. And the Iron Cross medal on the left side of the officer’s chest, the badge of honor and bravery.
Hans’ mouth started to water at the sight. He had never been so close to a member of the Waffen-SS.
—God, the uniform looked even better up close, he thought. Blood rushed to his cheeks, and they reddened. "Woah..." The sound came out of his mouth barely hearable.
"Ernest Kreider. Nice to meet you, Hans," said the officer emotionlessly. It was obvious he didn’t actually mean it, he just said it to be polite.
He paused. He had heard the barely audible exclamation of awe that had slipped from the young soldier's lips. "Something to say, Soldat Klein?" the SS officer asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Hans felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment, realizing he had been caught staring. He quickly shook his head, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and lingering admiration.
"N-no, Herr Kreider. I was just... I mean, your uniform, it's just... very impressive, sir." He stumbled over his words, his nervousness making him sound even more foolish.
The snorted, at Hans' answer. But he didn't want to leave yet. You don't meet this kind of a soldier often, has he even been on the battlefield yet? Or is he just keeping an eye on things around here? Either way, Kreider wasn't planning to leave him be yet.
"What is a Heer soldier like you doing here in a flower shop, buying flowers for a girl?" Kreider’s voice was rough and annoyed.
"No," the wehrmacht soldier answered in a low voice. "They’re for me." He gulped, a drop of sweat running down his forehead.
The taller man took a step back, allowing Hans some personal space. "Oh, really?" He raised an eyebrow at Hans’ answer, putting together all of the boy’s reactions in his head. Hans was obviously nervous, maybe even embarrassed. Was it because of the flowers, or something else? His cheeks were burning, his lips slightly parted, a spark in his widened eyes. His expression was so clear, yet so confusing and hard to specify — it made Kreider feel uneasy.
"What would your commanding officer think if he knew you were here messing around with flowers instead of focusing on your duties?"
Hans quickly looked down at his feet, he was starting to feel strange from looking at the officer. "Sir, I’m allowed to, sir" he said. Hans couldn’t understand why the officer cared about what he was doing in his free time. He was a good soldier — he did everything he was told and was always on time.
He nervously cracked his fingers.
Kreider grabbed the hair at the nape of the young man’s neck and pulled, forcing Hans to look at him.
"You look into my eyes when we speak."
His tone was annoyed — not yelling, but the venom in his voice was unmistakable. How could the infantryman disrespect him like that? Did he not realize who the officer was?
Hans’ heart skipped a beat before starting to race faster than ever before. He couldn’t think straight, his eyes darted all over Kreider — his eyes, his lips, his uniform. He wasn’t sure where to look. His face reddened even more before he squeezed his eyes shut and shoved the officer away.
Hans slipped out the flower shop door and ran along the side of the road, trying to make sense of what had just happened. It all happened so fast.
He had to tell Carl.
———
Finally, he saw him — his friend Carl, another Wehrmacht soldier. He was even shorter than the already short Hans, his hair and eyes both a warm shade of brown. His face was familiar and comforting — a perfectly straight nose, a wide chin, and an expression that almost always hovered between confidence and mischief.
Carl was standing at the side of the street, leaning casually against a lamppost as he spoke to two women. They laughed at something he said, their voices light and amused. To Hans’ surprise, neither of them was the nurse he usually saw Carl with. Maybe she was busy. Or maybe Carl was simply being Carl.
For a brief moment, Hans slowed his steps, watching from a distance. Seeing Carl like this — relaxed, smiling, untouched by the weight pressing down on Hans’ chest — made him hesitate. But the urgency quickly returned, tightening his throat.
"Carl! Carl!"
Hans shouted as he ran toward them. He stopped right in front of them, bending over to catch his breath, his hands braced on his knees. "Carl, there you are... I've been looking for you."
After a minute, he straightened, his heart still pounding hard against his ribs. His face felt warm, his thoughts tangled and rushing. "I need to talk to you, right now."
He first gave a brief, awkward smile to the girls, hoping it would be enough of an apology for the interruption, then shot a nervous glance at Carl — a silent plea that this couldn’t wait.
Carl looked up, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the sight of Hans and the flowers — roses. Hans didn't usually buy roses, he thought. "Well, well, well. Someone's feeling romantic today," he teased, referring to the red flowers, a grin spreading across his face. "I knew you had it in you, Klein. Trying to impress the locals with your charm and good looks?" He winked at the woman he had been talking to, who blushed and looked away shyly. "This is Hans, the flower-buying love-struck soldier I serve with." He made fun of Hans a little."Go on, Hans. I’m listening," Carl finally replied to what Hans has said.
Hans felt his own cheeks growing warm again at the teasing comment. "No, no, it's not like that. I just thought... I mean, I wanted to... " He faltered, suddenly feeling self-conscious about how embarrassing he must look and sound. Carl just laughed and jokingly elbowed Hans in the ribs.
“I need to talk to you privately..." Hans whispered.
“Oh.” his friend sighed, starting to get a little worried. Hans was naïve and immature. Carl worried about him like a little brother, even though they were the same age and not related.
"Okay, Hans. Excuse us for a moment, Fräuleins. My friend and I need to discuss some... private matters. Military business, you understand." Carl kissed the hand of each woman, Hans still standing awkwardly beside him. Finally, Carl turned to Hans. "Let’s take a walk while you tell me."
Both men started walking toward the forest.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Carl looked at Hans while walking, his expression serious. "Alright, out with it. What happened? And don't spare any details." Carl expected something serious since Hans wanted to discuss it privately. He crossed his arms over his chest, his dark eyes boring into Hans' with an intensity that made the younger man squirm slightly.
Hans was still sweating from nerves. "I was in town buying flowers, like always." He took a deep breath. "And I… I met an officer-"
"Oh really? Was it the officer from Paul’s unit?" Carl jumped in Hans' speech curiously, mentioning his cousin, who was in a different unit in the Heer.
"N-no… It was an SS officer…" Hans corrected quietly.
Carl’s steps immediately stopped. "Hans."
"You know what I told you about the SS," Hans continued, stopping a few steps behind him and turning to look Carl in the eyes.
"That they’re sadistic animals," Carl said, his voice firm. "Not the tough heroes you see them as. We’re the ones fighting for our country. They aren’t. They fight for ideas and things that are wrong."
Hans shivered, his gaze dropping to the ground. "He looked so powerful… and scary. He wore that exact uniform I like… But damn, he was divine. The uniform was so elegant, his uniform was so beautiful... It's hard to explain what I felt- I felt- I felt weird in his presence. Fuck, I felt dizzy… Gott, I felt aroused just from looking at him. Gott, this is bad…" he confessed.
Carl’s expression shifted from anger to horror. "Hans-" He fell silent for a moment. "You can’t mean this, can you? Thinking that way about a man… and an SS officer? Fuck, Hans, that’s wrong—very wrong. You have to get rid of those thoughts. It’s just wrong, and it could get you in trouble. He can’t find out about this, Hans. If he does, he’ll ruin you. You’ll get arrested… or worse. Nobody can find out about this." Carl started pacing in a small circle, stressed. "Just… think about a pretty girl when you need to… take care of yourself." He wasn’t trying to yell; he was trying to teach Hans, not just scold him. "Just get it of your mind-"
Carl reasoned it to himself as that Hans was just a sexually deprived soldier who didn’t know any better —a stupid boy who’d fallen for the propaganda, after all.
Hans nodded, still looking down, kicking at the gravel on the road. "Yes, Carl."
Good," Carl sighed. "Try to find yourself a girl, okay? Or at least think about one."
"What was the name of the girl whose house you went to last time?" Carl teased, smiling, trying to change the subject at least a little.
Hans’ face turned red instantly. He had had a huge problem with the commander because of that incident, and the memory still made his stomach twist. "Stop it, Carl," he said, laughing nervously, shaking his head as if that might make the embarrassment fade.
Carl laughed in return and turned on the heel of his boot. He gave Hans' shoulder a firm squeeze. "Now, let's get back to the barracks. We have a long day ahead of us, and I need you at your best. Forget about what happened here, Hans. Leave it behind and focus on the task at hand. You're a good soldier, and I know you can overcome this. Just remember, you should think about a nice Fräulein, not a man."
"Yeah… yeah, you’re probably right," Hans replied, and the two of them headed back.
On their way back to the barracks, Hans finally managed to stop replaying what had happened earlier that day. The image of the officer lingered stubbornly at the edge of his thoughts, but he pushed it aside. He had a patrol coming up, and that was what he needed to focus on now. Routine. Order. Something familiar.
Who was he going to be on patrol with? He wondered, letting the question ground him as they walked.
"You know you skipped lunch, Hans."
Carl’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "I left you a potato. It's under your pillow."
"Uh-huh?"
Hans made a confused sound, tilting his head to the side before bursting into laughter. "You’re lying. Who hides a potato under a pillow?"
"No, I really did, Hans. You should be grateful."
Carl chuckled, shaking his head. For a moment, he watched Hans carefully — the easy smile, the light in his eyes. He looked happy, almost carefree, as if he had really managed to forget about those horrible thoughts from earlier. Carl hoped it would last.
———
Hans was on patrol around the town with another soldier later that afternoon. They walked side by side through familiar streets, their boots striking the cobblestones in a steady rhythm. Most of the time, neither of them spoke. Every now and then one of them muttered a short comment about the weather, the length of the shift, or nothing in particular at all.
When local women passed by, Hans winked at them playfully, earning shy smiles, giggles, or quick looks away. The other soldier, far louder and cruder, shouted comments at their bodies, laughing at his own words. Hans laughed along, though it felt forced. His mind wandered despite his efforts, drifting back to silk-black fabric, sharp blue eyes, and the weight of a hand at the back of his neck.
He shook his head slightly, scolding himself. Focus. This was just a patrol.
———
In the evening, during their free time, most of the soldiers gathered around a table in the common room, playing cards and betting what little money they had. The air was thick with smoke and noise — laughter, arguments, curses, and the slap of cards against wood. Someone slammed a fist on the table in triumph, while another groaned loudly at his loss.
Hans sat nearby on a crate, watching. He couldn’t play cards — and even if he could, he never wanted to learn. He preferred to observe, listening to the chaos without being part of it, his thoughts drifting in and out with the sounds of the room.
After dinner, Hans lay down on the narrow bed in the room he shared with Carl and two other soldiers. He sighed and stared up at the ceiling.
His mind wandered back to what had happened at noon — the officer, the way his presence had filled the space, the way Hans’ body had reacted without permission. He remembered the fear, the excitement, the shame that followed. Then Carl’s voice echoed in his head, firm and worried, telling him what he should think, what he shouldn’t.
That’s right. Carl had told him to think about a girl.
Maybe he was right.
Maybe that was easier.
Maybe that was safer.
Hans closed his eyes, trying to follow that advice.
The room was completely quiet; everyone was probably asleep by now. Hans laid still, listening to the slow, uneven breathing around him. After a moment of hesitation, he quietly slid his hand into his trousers. He sighed, unsure how to feel about it — the whole situation felt awkward and wrong. He wished he could be home, or at least alone, somewhere without the presence of others so close by. He covered his mouth with his free hand, stifling any sound, and tried to focus.
Carl, meanwhile, was still trying to fall asleep, even though he knew it wouldn’t work for a while. He always fell asleep last, it usually took him a long time. He laid on his back, eyes closed, listening to the familiar noises of the room. When he heard Hans’ muffled whimpers, he barely reacted. He didn’t really mind — this wasn’t the first time he’d heard something like that in a room shared with three other soldiers, some of whom hadn’t felt the touch of a woman for weeks, or even months.
Hans’ breathing grew heavier, uneven, his thoughts drifting far away from the dark room and the weight of the day. His mind latching onto the first woman who came to him, an image he tried to hold onto. For a moment, it worked well enough, grounding him, easing the tension in his chest.
But just before the end, his thoughts betrayed him. They slipped, uninvited, back to the officer he had met earlier that day — the black uniform, the strong lines of his face, those perfectly masculine features, his hands, his—
"Hah!- Scheiße..." Hans gasped as it overtook him, his body reacting faster than his mind could stop it.
He ejaculated, his body froze, shame and confusion crashing down on him all at once.
Hans took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling unevenly. "I thought about a pretty Fräulein… I swear I did. It worked pretty well at first. She was beautiful, it felt good, and I thought I was fine, but then-" His voice faltered for a moment. "Then I saw Kreider… the handsome SS officer…"
He swallowed hard, already terrified of his own words. "He was kneeling over me… holding me thight in his hands-" His breath hitched. "And I came."
The confession hung heavy in the air, every word tasting wrong the moment it left his mouth. Hans couldn’t bring himself to look up, his face burning with shame as his hands curled into fists at his sides.
Carl felt a chill run down his spine at the mention of the name Hans had just uttered in the darkness. Kreider - the SS officer Hans had encountered earlier that day, the man who had apparently haunted his forbidden thoughts
"Hans- that's one of the top SS officers in the region. He's known for his... Cruel tactics... Hans, you need to understand something. A man like Kreider, he's not someone to be trifled with." He paused, choosing his next words with great care. "Men like him, they might have a certain... charisma, a charm that can be difficult to resist. But that's wrong Hans... You can't think of a man and a man like him that way. He's gonna ruin you Hans."
Hans was silent. No response at all.
Carl sighed softly and moved back to his own bed. There was nothing more he could say, and pushing further wouldn’t help either of them.
Hans rolled onto his side, pulling the thin blanket closer to his chest. The events of the day blurred together as exhaustion finally claimed him. His breathing slowly evened out, and, despite everything, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.
———
in the morning Hans woke up very early cheerful again. "Good morning boys, I'm going to the city to get flowers before the morning duty starts." Hans did this almost every single day. At any point of the day he bought flowers, then either gave them to a pretty girl in town or kept them for himself. There were about four Bouquets decorating the room of the four soldiers. The commander didn't really care, the main thing was that Hans worked as any other soldier. He didn't really bet an eye about Hans' childish behavior as long as it didn't effect how he worked.
Carl sat up in his bunk, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he watched Hans head for the door. "Hey, Hans," he called out, his voice still rough with sleep. "Wait up a moment."
Hans paused at the door, looking back at Carl with a bright smile. "What's up, Carl? I don't want the commander to think I'm slacking off. I'll be back in time for drills and training."
Carl nodded, pushing himself to his feet and making his way over to Hans. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "I know you will, Hans. I'm not worried about that. I just... I want you to be careful in town today. Watch yourself, okay? Just... just be cautious, alright?"
"yes sir." He said jokingly and saluted as he left.
———
Hans walked in the town on the side of the road, he walked towards the flower shop. Then he saw him. The officer from yesterday, now talking to a man on the other side of the road.
Hans froze.
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To be continued...