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They had just returned from their stroll through the park, a blessed break from Paul's instruction of Kurt - who was making swift progress in his mastery of the violin, an obvious prodigy despite the skepticism of his parents - and had just stepped in through the front door when Kurt asked the question that Paul had been silently hoping and praying he wouldn't.
Why couldn't he just forget about it?
"That man, in the park. The one who called me handsome." Kurt slowly began as he took his hat off, carefully handing it and his folded coat to the butler, who hung them up neatly beside Paul's coat and cane before exiting the room, aware that his role in this conversation was to be far, far away from it, "You recognized him."
Paul wished he hadn't.
"Kurt..." Paul's voice held a warning tone, the violin virtuoso refusing to meet the eyes of the man beside him, moving to sit at the piano bench and reaching out for the sheets of music that were messily scattered across the music desk, remnants of the lesson Paul had been conducting before their walk, occupying his hands as he sorted and neatened the sheets.
Why were his hands trembling?
"Who was he, Paul?" Kurt pressed, moving to stand beside the piano, visible in Paul's peripheral vision as the man kept his gaze locked forward on the music sheets, his teeth clenched together and his jaw working furiously.
"He's not a good man. That's all you need to know." Paul gritted out, hoping that Kurt would just drop the damned subject. It was better that he didn't know.
"Well that's obviously not the full story," Kurt neatly slid onto the bench beside Paul, their shoulders brushing as they sat together on the slim piano bench, "is there something I should be worried about?"
Yes, Paul thought, yes you should be worried about Bollek. If he gets his greasy and slimy hands around your neck like he has mine...
"I..." Paul hesitated, his hand falling from the music sheets to the sleek and cold keys of the piano, nervously drumming out a pattern without pressing down hard enough to coax a note from the instrument, "No. It is something between him and me. It's fine."
It's not fine.
"It's not fine," Kurt said simply, reflecting Paul's thoughts as the younger man moved a hand to rest over Paul's, stopping its nervous movements.
Paul felt his heart clench.
"Kurt..."
"Tell me." Kurt asked, "Please."
Do I even have the strength to tell you? To admit to my sufferings?
"He is..." Paul sighed, the earlier resistance and stubbornness draining from his body, being replaced by the pure exhaustion he felt. "He is a man named Bollek. He is..."
A monster, a cruel, cruel monster.
Paul clenched his hand, the one not covered by Kurt's, into a fist. This felt like admitting a weakness, of admitting to some type of fault. Some type of failure.
Kurt didn't push him, only sitting patiently beside him, their knees and shoulders pressed - comfortingly - against each other, waiting for an answer as their soft breaths filled the silence.
"He is blackmailing me." Paul forced out in a quick breath. "Bollek. He has been, for a long time. Since before I met you."
Please. Please don't judge me for my weakness, please don't judge me for my failures.
"Blackmailing you?" Kurt's hand tightened over Paul's. "For...?"
"He tricked me. He found out about my... affections for men. We met at a dance hall, he led me on, let me think he was interested in me, pretended to want to come home with me, only to threaten me with the act of revealing my sexuality to everyone he could if I didn't give in to his demands." Paul felt ill, his stomach rolling as he admitted to a horrible secret that he had kept from everyone for so long.
Would it have been better, to keep it to himself? To continue to lock it up inside instead of letting it spill out into the open?
"His demands?"
"Money," Paul sighed, "usually ten thousand marks. Sometimes higher."
"Ten thousand-" Kurt gasped, obviously shocked at the amount, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Paul glanced over at that, his eyes straying from the music sheet for the first time since this horrid conversation began. Kurt sounded... hurt, and worried. His expression was one of concern.
Aren't you ashamed? To love a man who wasn't strong enough to stand up for himself?
"I-" Paul started, only to pause, swallowing nervously as his words failed him. "I didn't- I didn't want to worry you. He's been... I shouldn't have engaged with you, been so... open about my affections. I don't care what he does to me, I was going to refuse his next request for money anyways, but after today... now he knows about you. And I fear what he might do with that information."
"I don't care that he knows about me," Kurt said stubbornly - foolishly. "I just care that you're safe. That you aren't being mistreated by this scum."
But now it is you who will be the target of his cruelty, don't you see?
"Kurt, you must understand," Paul twisted to face Kurt directly and took ahold of the hand covering his own, gripping it tightly with both hands as he tried to make his lover know the direness of the situation, "once I refuse to pay, he isn't just going to leave. He is going to go to the courts. He has evidence that I am... a homosexual. That I have gone against Paragraph 175. That we have." Paul felt tears begin to collect in the corners of his eyes, his emotions that he had been keeping bottled up ever since his first disastrous meeting with Bollek beginning to overflow.
When that comes to light, when the public hears of Paul Körner, the violinist virtuoso, who was secretly a homosexual and engaged with one of his students? My career will be over." Paul choked back a sob with a somber smile, "My friends and family - the family that hasn't already - will shun me. My company will cut its ties with me, my shows will be quietly canceled, and my fans will pretend to have never known the name of Paul Körner. Everything I have, everyone, they will all be gone. Nobody wants to be associated with the man caught as a homosexual. You've seen the papers."
You know how this ends. The Sword of Damocles looms over our heads, as it has for many before us. And it is growing ever closer.
"Paul..." Kurt frowned.
"I accepted this fate a while ago," Paul sighed, "I knew I couldn't keep Bollek happy forever. But I have enough savings to afford to lose my career. I'll move somewhere else, get a small apartment, I'll play in the streets. I have enough to survive for a while. But... you don't. You are young, barely beginning your career, your life. I can't risk you in that way, risk you losing everything." Paul grimaced, cursing himself, "I was a fool to hope he wouldn't notice me with you."
"I'm sorry Paul..." Kurt tugged his hands from Paul's loosened grip, raising one to gently caress Paul's cheek. Paul leaned in, almost subconsciously, grateful for the comfort, "but I get to choose what I want to risk."
Was this it, was Kurt going to shun him, shame him for letting Bollek control him for so long, berate him for the fool he was, leave him-
"And I am willing to risk it all, for you."
"...what?" Paul whispered, not quite sure if he understood what his lover meant. "Kurt, you can't..."
"I can. And I will." Kurt grinned stubbornly, "I will be here no matter what happens, no matter what he does. Bollek doesn't scare me, and he shouldn't scare you."
Oh how I wish I could be as brave as you...
"But if he goes to the courts..." Paul stammered, taken aback at the little Kurt seemed to be concerned for their futures if Bollek carried through on his threat to expose them.
"So what?" Kurt rolled his eyes, "My family is already suspicious that something is up, I'm fairly sure Else already knows. It is bound to come out eventually."
"To our families, yes, but to the general public..." Paul felt overwhelmed. Was he really that important to Kurt, for the man to risk everything?
"So we'll go with your original plan," Kurt intertwined their fingers, holding their hands between them as he spoke, "We'll run away together. We'll live far away, in a small house or an apartment. Maybe we'll get a dog," Kurt grinned, "we can play in the streets or in bars. I don't need a life of fame, as long as I have you."
"You would do that..." Paul felt hot tears begin to roll down his cheeks, "you would leave your life, your friends and family, all of that behind... for me?"
"Yes." Kurt leaned close, his forehead gently touching Paul's as the violinist closed his reddened eyes, "I would leave everything behind, because my life..." Kurt pressed a gentle kiss to Paul's lips, before drawing back to caress his lover's reddened cheek, wet from tears, "because my life is here. With you."
And mine is with you.
"...alright." Paul sniffled and choked out the word, the confirmation of the plan he had spent so many sleepless nights considering, "Alright. I won't let him control me anymore. I won't let him get a single mark more out of me."
I won't let him hurt me anymore.
"I'm proud of you." Kurt smiled softly, "This is very brave of you."
It's all because of you.
"I love you." Paul smiled through his tears, now ones of joy and affection.
"And I, you." Kurt grinned, his expression one of clear love and caring.