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Ernst was helping Wendla clean up after the party when he found the wallet. He frowned and picked it up, looking inside. He thought it was Melchior's at first, but then he saw the driver's license. Hanschen Rilow
"What is it?" Wendla asked, picking up a beer bottle. She walked over to stand on her tip toes, peering over Ernst's shoulder. She gave a small gasp, "Oh, Hanschen left his wallet. That's okay, I can give it to him tomorrow, we have homeroom together.
"No, that's okay, I'll give it to him," he said, a bit too quickly. She made a face, but then shrugged and went on cleaning up.
He moved as fast as he could, picking up all the bottles and bits of trash, throwing them into the bag. Then he grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet, calling out a bye to Wendla. He jumped into his car—trying to get as little rain on him as possible—and drove to Hanschen's house.
As he started off, he started to realize how completely stupid he was. He and Hanschen weren't really friends, he only saw him in class or during Wendla's parties. They just had a mutual friend, that was no excuse for knocking on their door after dark with his wallet.
It wasn't a secret that Ernst liked Hanschen. Like, a lot. He wouldn't be surprised if Hanschen himself knew. That made Ernst panic. What if Hanschen was disgusted? What if he never wanted to talk to Ernst again? Oh God, what if he laughed at him? He tried to calm himself down and keep driving.
He was just doing a good deed. The wallet had a license and money in it which meant that Hanschen had driven home without a license, which was illegal. And there was a good amount of money, Hanschen should be grateful that he didn't swipe any. He thought about bringing that up when he gave the wallet back, but that would be kind of weird.
He pulled up in front of the house and climbed out. He held the wallet in his right hand, trying to come up with a good intro that didn't scream "I know where you live". He tried about twenty different plans before deciding to just wing it and hope for the best.
He walked up to the house, vaguely aware that he was getting drenched, and knocked on the door. He stood there, rocking on his heels, waiting for it to open. That was when he realized what he had just done. Before he could turn around and run for his life, the door opened.
"Ernst? What are you doing here?"
The boy in question slowly turned on his heel, his face scrunched up. When he faced Hanschen he gave him a bright smile, trying not to scream. "Hanschen! Hi! So, um, I was helping Wendla clean up when I noticed you left your wallet. Well, I mean, I didn't know it was your wallet at first, I checked the lisense. You have a lot of money. Not that I stole any. Wait, that sounded bad, I really didn't steal your money. What I'm trying to say is–"
Hanschen held up a hand and wordlessly pulled Ernst inside and closed the door. Ernst squeaked and held out the wallet. Hanschen plucked it from his hand and put it in his pocket. He stared Ernst down, a certain look in his eyes that Ernst couldn't identify. He just fidgeted under the boy's gaze, despite being a good half-head taller.
"Let me get this straight," Hanschen said, chuckling at the irony of his words, "Did you really drive half an hour, in the rain, to return my wallet? And on the other side of town, if I might add."
"So...are you upset?" Ernst asked, feeling smaller than he had even felt.
Hanschen quirked his lips. "Upset? No. I'm actually quite flattered. Thank you, Ernst."
Ernst loved the sound of his name coming from Hanschen. He basked in the small praise before a realization dawned on him.
"I have to drive in this rain," he said, looking out the window. It was pouring harder than it was a few minutes before. He heard a crack of thunder in the distance. He whimpered and took a deep breath, heading for the door, but was stopped by a hand whipping out to yank him back.
"What do you think you're doing?" Hanschen asked. If you could even call it a question.
"Uh, g-going to my car," Ernst stuttered, flustered by his close proximity to Hanschen. He could count the lashes on the shorter boy's eyes. They were so long and pretty. He could feel his face go red.
"Yeah, no, you're staying here to wait this out," Hanschen said, pulling Ernst into the living room. He sat the younger boy on the incredibly comfy couch and went to the kitchen, coming back a few moments later with hot chocolate and cookies. To say Ernst was pleased would be an understatement.
Hanschen, cookies, and hot chocolate, he had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. But from the look on Hanschen's face and the sting on his arm, this was definitely reality. The best sort.
Hanschen turned on the TV and pulled up Netflix.
"Rent?"
"Rent."