Chapter Text
Ernst sits in front of his desk. He sighs as he looks at the paper in front of him. For god’s sake, he’s an artist, why does he have to do stats?
“I knew he’d be in here!” a girl's voice shouts. He quickly spins his chair around to see Ilse, Wendla, Melchior, and Hanschen. The two boys start walking around his room looking at his different art pieces. Ernst quickly picks up his hearing aids and puts them on.
“Aren't you guys at rehearsal? Why are you in my room?” he asks. Ilse saunters over smiling. He turns them on before looking back at her.
“You're looking very good today, did you get a haircut?” she inquired with a wide smile. He rolls his eyes.
“What do you want?” he says cutting to the chase.
“We need a photographer for theatre,” Wendla says butting in.
“I'm actually really busy with-”
“You’ll get extra credit on it and you can put it in your portfolio,” the blond says. “Come on, don’t you want to spend even more time with me?”
Ernst watches as Hanschen walks closer to him. He rolls his eyes and barely keeps himself from blushing. Him and Hans had never been close, or really talked more than 3 times. He has seen him around and has been there during group hang outs, but not any one on one time. He is very aware that his flirting means nothing though.
“Please? You're the best photographer in the school and I know you'd just be obsessing about your other projects if you don't do this,” Ilse states. They probably won't stop annoying him unless he says yes anyway…
“I guess,” he shrugs. Melchior grins and grabs his arm.
“Great! We have run because break is over like, now,” Melchior says glancing at his watch. “Hanschen can walk you back because he isn't on now.”
Before Ernst can even say okay, the three students start sprinting away. He's now just left with Hans. Let the awkward silence begin.
“You don’t need your camera for now, rehearsal only has like 5 more minutes left anyway,” the blond mentions. Ernst looks over at him confused.
“Then why were they running?” Ernst asks.
“Theatre kids have a flair for the dramatics,” he shrugs. Ernst watches as Hanschen starts walking out the door. The artist quickly snaps out of his confused state and follows behind the boy.
Hanschen a bit smaller than Ernst, but his confident stride and put together look brings a lot of attention despite his height. Ernst, on the other hand, lacks a gracefulness. His hands always have remnants of paint on them. He constantly looks he had only 3 hours of sleep. Mostly because he only gets 3 hours of sleep.
“Basically, you’ll just be here during tech week taking photos. You don’t need to focus on anyone in particular. It’s just for the yearbook and the drama teacher’s website. He also wrote the play. That’s mainly why we are actually getting photos done,” he explains while they both enter the elevator. Ernst nods and just watches his sharp jawline and lips moving.
Ernst catches about half of what Hanschen is saying. His voice wasn’t loud enough for him to hear with his hearing aids on low. He decides to not turn them up because, well, his friends are very loud. The taller opens the door to the theatre building and Hanschen swiftly walks inside. They enter a studio theatre are met with a group of people sitting in the audience. One man stands in front of them talking about what time to for the next meeting. He looks over and makes eye contact with Ernst.
“Right! You guys are free to go!” he yells before walking over to the two boys. “You must be Ernst.”
“Yeah, Hanschen has told me about all my duties,” he responds. The director nods.
“So we don’t have rehearsal tomorrow but on Sunday tech weeks starts, so when we need you. It’s from 8am to 6pm. During the week it's from the 3pm to 8pm,” he says quickly. Ernst very much regrets agreeing to this.
“Yeah that's fine,” he forces himself to say. The man nods then walks away. Ernst sighs and runs a hand through his hair.
“You look excited,” Melchior points out approaching him.
“It’s… a lot of time,” he responds. Hanschen chuckles from beside him.
“Think of it as bonding hours. We’re all hanging out tomorrow, you’re invited of course,” Ilse says.
Wendla hands Hanschen his backpack and looks back over at the two standing together. She smiles to herself before walking away.
“So, we live in the same dorms. Wanna walk together?” the smaller man inquires.
“Uh, yeah that’d be cool,” Ernst stutters. He reaches behind his ear to turn up his hearing aid before they turned toward the door. As Hanschen opens it, Ernst catches Wendla signing to him.
“You two look cute together,” she signs making a suggestive look. He stops walking and begins to blush.
“No!” he signs back. Hanschen taps his shoulder.
“You coming?” he asks. The taller looks back at his face and sees a smirk.
“Yeah,” Ernst says and follows him outside. He watches how Hanschen’s hair stays perfect even in the light wind. His golden hair always seemed to catch the light in the most mesmerizing ways. Everything about the boy drew all your attention to him.
“What are you majoring in?” Hans inquired.
“Art history with a minor in painting,” he responds, smiling at him.
“So an artsy type?” he quips back. Ernst’s smile widens as he lets out a laugh.
“I’m sure you must of figured that out sooner with my dorm room plastered with Keith Haring and my own stuff,” he says. Hanschen swipes his ID to let them into the building.
“Just a slight hint.” They feel the warm air embrace them as they step in. The two of them enter the elevator just before it closes. “Also the paint in your hair was a key point.”
“Oh my god!” Ernst laughs, combing his hand through his hair. Hanschen smiles at him.
“Let me…” he trails off as he pushes up to his tip toes. The artist looks into the other’s bright blue eyes as they focus on his hair. When he comes back down he raises his eyebrow.
“What? Are you falling in love with me or something?” he asks slyly.
“No I just, like the color of your eyes,” he protests. Who wouldn’t get entranced by how bright they are?
The elevator doors open and the two of them walk out.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Hanschen leads.
“Yep,” Ernst confirms before walking off to his room.
-
Ernst wakes up to the lights flashing in his room. Someone must be pressing the ‘doorbell’ he has. Since he can’t hear if anyone’s knocking, the lights flash to alert him. He rubs his eyes before getting up from his bed. The lights flash once more before he opens the door. As soon as Wendla can see him, she starts to speak. He quickly waves his hand in front of her.
“I can’t hear, ” he signs pointing to his ear. She looks at him confused.
“Did you just wake up? It’s 5 pm!” she says. He sits down on his bed and throws his blanket on top on himself.
“I didn’t sleep until 7. I was doing homework,” he explains. She rolls her eyes. “Then I woke up at noon, turned in my work then went back to sleep.”
“We are going to dinner. You’re coming,” she demands. Wendla walks over to his closet and pulls out a long sleeved red button up and his ripped black jeans. She throws them over to him. “Get dressed.”
“Fine,” he responds with a sigh. He throws his clothes on and puts in his hearing aids. Ernst takes a look at himself in the mirror. His hair is a mess and his eyes are sporting very dark circles. So he looks like he always does.
“Let’s go then,” he says and opens the door for her. Wendla skips out the door.
-
The two arrive at an apartment building. Ernst looks over at the girl next to him.
“I thought we were getting dinner…” he trails as she opens the door. She smiles at him.
“We are! At Melchior’s place.” Oh god. The thing about Melchior is that he’s always high on something. Most of the time weed, sometimes LSD. So, of course every time they go to his place, they will get high.
“You could've at least told me your plans. I would of gotten something,” he winks. She rolls her eyes at him.
“Please, if I told you, you wouldn’t of came,” she retorts. The artist laughs and walks inside.
“Not true! I would of slept a bit longer then came. I was looking forward to a nice panini,” he mentions. They dispute about this as they walk up to the 4th floor of the building. Since Melchior Gabor doesn’t live on campus, he’s always the one with the hook ups. He has all the drugs, liquor, and beer you could dream of. God know how he gets it, but it’s always stocked up. Plus, he’s so rich that he doesn’t make anyone pay him back for it all.
As the two of them approach his door, Ernst turns to look at Wendla.
“Is Hanschen going to be here?” he asks.
“Why do you ask? Do you like him?” she inquires, wiggling her eyebrows.
“No! He was just nice to talk to,” Ernst says. Wendla doesn’t answer and just opens the door. They are met with the very potent smell of weed and folk music playing. The two walk in and shut the door quickly.
“Look who’s here!” Ilse shouts. Ernst smiles as his eyes meet hers.
“Seems like you guys have already gotten started then,” he laughs and goes to sit on the couch with Melchior, Moritz, and Martha. On his way, his foot hits against the pile of books on the floor. The tall boy starts to fall forward just as Hanschen is coming out of the bathroom. The terrible timing made Ernst fall straight onto the blond. The two of them hit the ground. Well, Hans hits the ground, Ernst falls on him.
“I’m so sorry!” Ernst gushes, red rising to his cheeks. The group all starts to laugh hysterically.
“If you wanted to pin me down you could've just asked. I didn’t see you as a-” Hanshchen smirks as Ernst puts his hand over his mouth.
“No, I just- Melchi why do you leave your books all over the place?” he says. The brunette hastily gets up and offers the other his hand. The boy takes it and pulls himself up. How can someone’s hand be so damn soft?
“I run out of space on my bookshelf,” he states simply. Ernst walks over and takes a seat on the armchair next to the couch.
“How’s your sculpture doing?” he asks. Moritz scoffs and looks over at him.
“Terrible. I might just scrap it.” Ernst and Moritz have gotten quite close over this past semester. They have a lot in common, such as having traditional art in their majors. They both take painting as well, but Moritz is trying to major in ceramics.
“That means it must look amazing,” Martha chimes in. Moritz ignores the both of them and decides to take a hit out of the bong under him. Wendla goes and plops herself next to him.
“I’ll go as well,” she says as he blows out the smoke. Hanschen takes a seat on the floor between the couch and chair. He takes a long drink of the beer he must of gotten out of the fridge. Ernst watches as his lips purse against the opening. The blond puts the bottle next to him and listens to the conversation going on between Ilse, Martha, and Melchior. His long eyelashes frame his bright eyes so perfectly. Every detail of the boy grips Ernst’s attention.
“Enjoying staring at me?” Hanschen scoffs. The artist blushes again and looks down at his hands.
“I, uh, was just about to ask if you’d rather sit up here. I need to go grab a drink anyway,” he rambles standing up from the chair.
“Where are you gonna sit?” he questions. Ernst points to the space under the armchair.
“I could just sit against it,” the boy shrugs. A smirk spreads on Hanschen’s face.
“Between my legs?” he prods.
“I, um, I mean if you would be uncomfortable with that-” Hanschen stands up and puts a hand on Ernst’s shoulder.
“I would love for you to be between my legs Robel,” he reveals in a husky voice. Ernst stands still in shock, his mouth slightly agape. He give himself an internal scolding for letting Hanschen’s meaningless flirting make his heart flutter.
He turns away and goes straight to the kitchen’s liquor cabinet. The artist doesn’t allow himself to look back into the living room to see the blond’s signature smirk, even though he can feel his eyes watching him. The kitchen is and living room is separated by a half wall, so he can be easily seen by everyone else. Ernst reaches up and opens the cabinet and grabs the orange flavored vodka. He takes the shot glass from the drying rack and fills it up with the liquor.
“Relaxing finally?” Wendla says entering the room. He turns around and grabs another shot glass.
“I’m guessing you want the same thing?” he questions, holding the glass up to her.
“Only if you want to get drunk,” she signs with a smile. He sets down the glass and looks at her.
“Why the sudden ASL?” he asks. She shrugs and pushes between him and the counter. She grabs the vodka and fills up two shots. She hands him one and she takes the other.
“Three, two, one!” The pair downs the shots. A light burn goes down his throat with the taste of slight rubbing alcohol with a hint of orange.
“What do you think of Hanschen?” she asks with a smile on her face. As soon as she poses the question, a familiar blond haired guy walks into the kitchen.
“Speak of the devil,” he signs with a laugh. He takes a look at the vodka and pours himself another glass. Wendla waves her hand in front of his face to get his attention back to her.
“Do you like him?” she asks. Ernst takes the shot and pulls a hand through his hair. His mind flashes back to when Hanschen was standing close to him in the elevator. Their faces were barely apart…
“He’s fine.” Ernst turns and sits up on the counter. Wendla looks up at him with a look of disbelief. He glances over and sees Hanschen opening another beer on the island.
“Come on, he’s handsome! And exactly your type,” she says nudging him with her elbow.
“By my type do you mean an ass? Like everyone else I have dated?” he signs. “I mean, he is attractive.”
“Not my fault you like flirts who cheat,” she responds. “Look, he’s not as closed off as he seems. He’s a great actor and a good friend.”
“He’s out of league,” he signs. He thinks back to the other guys who were also seemingly out of his league and left him for better looking people. Wendla taps his shoulder to get his attention.
“He’s not the biggest dater but he’s actually sweet. Hang out with him more,” she signs before walking away.
Now it’s just Ernst and Hanschen in the kitchen. Hans turns looks at Ernst.
“Hanschen is my sign name,” he signs, tapping a H against his temple. Ernst’s mouth drops open. “Do you ever close your mouth?”
“Did you watch our conversation?” he blushes. The blond nods, a smirk taking its place once again. “How do you know-”
“My mom is Deaf,” he responds before the other boy can finish. Ernst's mind races as Hanschen looks him up and down. How can he feel so exposed when he’s wearing clothes?
“I’m so sorry!” Ernst speaks. He decides that speaking might make him less of a mess.
“It’s fine,” he says as he walks out the room. He pauses in the doorframe and looks back at him. “Also, I don’t cheat.”
Ernst watches as he walks out the room. He grabs the vodka and takes a swig straight from the bottle.
“Oh god,” he mumbles and puts his head in his hands. A few more of their friends enter the apartment and greet him. He groans and makes his way out of the kitchen to the living room.
“Ernst!” Moritz yells. The artist winces from the loud nature of his voice, but goes towards him anyway. They’ve all gotten off the couches and now have formed a circle on the floor. He takes the space next to him and smiles.
“Wanna hit?” Moritz asks, holding up the bowl. Ernst nods and takes it from his hand. God knows he needs to relax.
He takes the lighter as well and puts the bowl up to his mouth. He sees Hanschen flirting with a girl sitting next to him. He looks away and lights it. He takes the hit and hands the bowl back to Moritz. He breathes out the smoke and relaxes against the bottom of the couch.
“Want another?” he asks. Ernst shakes his head. He looks over at Hanschen again and sees him getting closer to her and laughing. His stomach twists for some reason. Why does he care so much about who he’s talking to? It’s not like Hans isn’t just using him to flirt with just like everyone else.
“I think I’m gonna go,” Ernst says getting up. Melchior grabs his hand.
“Be safe dude,” he slurs. Ernst nods before quickly walking out of the apartment. He keeps his eyes forward so he doesn’t steal a look at Hanschen. He won’t care if he's leaving. Probably won’t notice.
He doesn’t break his stride as he goes down the hall to the elevator. Being buzzed and walking down stairs is not a very good idea. He clicks the down button and prepares to wait forever. He hates Melchior’s building for this very reason, the elevators take 5 minutes to reach him. It only takes a few seconds to go down though. It makes no sense. He zones out while waiting.
“Ernst, you forgot your phone,” a deep voice says approaching him. He snaps out of his haze induced by drugs and looks over and sees Hanschen coming to him.
“Thanks!” he says with a smile. The blond stops when he gets close to him.
“Oh fuck it,” he whispers and grabs Ernst’s shirt. The taller looks at him confused before he’s pulled down to a kiss. The elevator dings and the doors opens. Hanschen breaks the kiss to push Ernst into the elevator. The taller watches as he walks in and puts his hand on Ernst’s face softly.
They both start to kiss again as the doors close. Hanschen guides the other’s back against the wall and pushes his body against him. The kiss deepens as Ernst places his hand Hanschen’s chest. He pulls away from the kiss.
“You, uh, need to click the lobby button,” he says. Hanshen scoffs and turns around.
“You really are something else,” he chuckles. He grabs him by the shirt again and presses him against the closed doors. Ernst leans down and kisses him, pulling him closer by laying a hand on his jaw. His finger lightly traces his bone. Hanschen pulls at the back of his hair, causing his mouth to open. He lets his tongue enter.
Just as things were getting heated, the doors open. Ernst topples backwards with Hanschen going on top of him. It's the second time that he’s knocked the two of them over in one night.
“I’m so sorry!” Ernst exclaims and pulls himself out from under the small boy. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Hanschen laughs. Ernst stares in awe of Hanschen’s true smile. Maybe he should fall more often.
“You guys know there are camera’s in the elevator?” a guy from the front desk asks. Ernst’s face goes completely red and he looks over at Hanschen.
“I’m gonna, uh, take the stairs,” he states getting up. Ernst hastily gets up from the ground.
“My phone?” he questions. Hans smirks.
“I put it in your back pocket.” He spins on his heel and goes to the stairs. Ernst quickly fixes his pants and walks out the building. At least being drunk and a little high helped with the pain.
-
Ernst wakes to a pounding headache and the vibration of his alarm. He groans and quickly shuts it off.
Why did he agree to this?
He moves the half drunk bottle of wine to under his bed so he doesn't knock it over. He may or may not of done that last night to stop feeling Hanschen’s lips on his.
Ernst ignores his thoughts and gets dressed in the same ripped jeans but this time a loose t shirt. He leaves his room to go to the bathrooms and brush his teeth. He returns and puts on a beanie, then places his camera around his neck.
He sits down on this bed and turns his phone on. It's a text from an unknown number that reads ‘Hey it's Hanschen. Can you come to my room?’
Ernst texts back ‘why? its 7:30 and we have to go to tech’
A response comes quickly ‘I want to fuck.’ Ernst drops his phone on his bed and rubs his eyes. He doesn't know if he want to go sprinting down the hall or lock his door. Another pops on his screen ‘Just kidding, I want to run lines.’
‘You couldn't of lead with that?’ he sends. Hanschens texts a room number with a smiley face.
Ernst sighs. Why does he have to be so nice? He takes a few aspirin and puts in his hearing aids before heading out his room.
He starts walking down the hall and considers going back to his room. He runs a hand through his hair as he gets closer to Hanschen’s door. He pauses and debates turning away again. It might be really awkward since the last time they saw each other they were falling out an elevator. Ernst ignores his thoughts and just knocks on the door. It swings open to reveal Hanschen holding a script in his hands.
“Come in,” he motions. Ernst steps in and takes a look around the dorm room. Everything is neatly placed, even on his roomate’s side. His half loft bed is made to perfection, the walls have polaroids on them, and his desk has a few books stacked on it.
“You can take seat,” Hanschen says pointing to his bed. Ernst nods and lifts himself up to sit. Hanschen grabs his desk chair and goes across from him.
“Where’s your roommate?” the taller asks.
“He stays at his girlfriend’s place a lot,” he answers, not looking up from the script. “I copied some pages for you, they are on the bed as well.”
Ernst leans over and picks up the packet near the end. He opens it to see not a script, but regular writing. He glances over the words and looks at it in awe.
“Did you… write this?” Ernst asks. Hanschen lifts his head from his script with a confused look.
“Oh shit, that's mine I'm sorry-”
“It's amazing Hans,” he says smiling. “You're really good!”
The smaller boy gets up and grabs the real script from his desk and takes his own writing out of Ernst’s. He puts it into a folder and shakes his head.
“It's nothing just, whatever can we go over lines?” he distracts. Ernst decides to not push it and open the script.
“Page 4, read the lines of Jasmine,” he instructs. The artist nods and starts to recite the lines. Hanschen has placed his packet on the floor beside him so he would have to do it from memory.
Ernst fondly watches as he closes eyes as he says he lines, as if he’s imagining himself there. His voice changes from his regular deeper tone to a slightly higher voice to fit the character. He's amazing.
After going through a couple pages Ernst decides to break the streak.
“We should get going,” he says. Hanschen finally opens his eyes and looks at the clock on his desk. 7:50.
“Yeah we really should if we don't want to be late,” he says. He gets up, bringing the chair back to its proper place while moving, and gets his backpack. He throws in his wallet, script, and laptop.
“Let's go!” he says placing a hand on Ernst’s shoulder. The brunette nods and gets out the room. He places a hand on his camera to keep it steady as the two of them approach the elevator. They stand in silence waiting for the doors to open. Ernst’s mind flashes back to the two of them last night. His body pressed against the wall and lips on his…
“Hey guys!” a voice says from behind hen. Both men are startled, but look back and see Georg approaching. Ernst breaks out in a smile.
“Hey! I haven't seen you in forever!” he says opening his arms. Georg accepts the invitation and the two have a quick hug. The elevator doors open and the three walk in.
“What are you doing up so early?” the new boy asks pressing the lobby button. Ernst looks up at the ceiling feeling the embarrassment from last time of the button pressing.
“Tech week,” Hanschen answers. “Ernst is being our photographer.” Despite his superior tone, Georg keeps his smile.
“That's cool! I'm heading to downtown campus to catch my lecture. It sucks it's so early but I really love history,” he goes on. Ernst keeps his smile and nod as he keeps talking about the early lecture and his professor.
The elevator opens and all three exit.
“Well I'm going out the side door so catch you guys later!” he yells and runs away. Hanschen sighs and keeps walking to the front doors.
“God, he never shuts up,” he mumbles and he holds the door open for Ernst. Ernst feels the cold air hits his bare arms and shivers. Hanschen steps out and starts walking.
“He's really nice,” he retorts. Hanschen rolls his eyes. Ernst quietly thanks that he was there because otherwise there just would of been awkward silence between the two.
Both men walk quietly towards the drama building. The coldness of the morning and November makes the brunette really regret his clothing choices.
“Ernst,” a voice says. He groans at the familiarity. Hanschen stops and turns.
“Hey, Bobby,” he responds plastering on a smile. He moves his body to face him.