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there is silence at the dinner table. its a long, beautiful thing made from red oak, fitted with five matching chairs, but with only two occupants. moritz picks at his dinner of chicken and rice with his fork, moving the pieces around on his plate, trying to ignore the emptiness of the room. he hates when papa gets home sober enough to set the table. to moritz, the table is a grim reminder of the ghosts of what could have been. the next room over is where moritzs mother passed, ending any hopes of an actual, normal family with her.
"youre basically a man now, moritz," papa sighs, gazing at his son across the table. "when i was your age, i was working in the mines," he recalls. "didnt get any kind of education. at least i got the money to get you some kind of future, huh?" he snorts. "that is, if youre grades would pick up."
"papa, i dont want to talk about this..." moritz pipes up, but he already sounds defeated.
"i dont care what you want, moritz," he says harshly. "do you know how embarrassing it is to dodge every single question thats thrown my way about your school? if i let anyone think for even a minute you might not pass and might not attend next year..." he lets out a heavy, disappointed sigh moritz is all too familiar with.
"i know, papa."
"that boy, next house over... whats his name? robert mahler. he went to your school, right?"
"yes, papa..."
"he passed his midterms and his finals! even a faggot can do it, moritz, why cant you?"
moritz swallows hard. "dont call him that."
his father rolls his eyes, stuffing the final portion of rice into his mouth. "such a waste, he really was a smart boy. now hes got no family, no home, no future. all because he couldnt control himself. any man who sleeps with another man, thats something your grades cant redeem. not in the eye of god."
moritz is silent. he doesnt say he doesnt think its a matter of self-control, or that perhaps its gods will. and he doesnt dare mention that hes been toying with the idea of homosexuality himself.
having lost his appetite, moritz pushes his plate towards his father, gets up, and pushes his chair in. "im going to melchis," he says, feeling lightheaded. his dad calls after him, maybe advising him to come home before twelve or close the door or something of the sort, but his ears feel like theyre clogged, and the only thing he can focus on his pulse and the not-so-steady beating of his heart.
"herr stiefel?"
"may i see melchior?" moritz breathes, standing on the steps to the gabor household.
"yes, yes, come in. is he expecting you?" fanny gabor says, moving to let the boy in. she looks him over, a mothers intuition telling her that something isnt right. he sees the suspicion in her eyes and gives her a small smile, an offering of reassurance. she seems to buy it, if only because hes not her son, hes so not her problem.
"ah, no. i just... had some latin homework i needed him to check."
"you dont have your school bag with you, herr stiefel."
"excuse me," moritz says, face flushed. he pushes past melchiors mother and makes his way to the sons bedroom, closing the door behind him in a hurry.
"jesus christ, moritz!"
"huh?"
"knock, why dont you?" melchior huffs.
"i had no idea you went to bed so early," moritz says. "sorry, melchi." the boy mumbles an excuse and walks over to his friend, feeling like a zombie. he falls over next to melchior, the twin bed barely fitting them both.
melchior blinks the sleep away from his vision and yawns slightly, sitting up. moritz does the same, and they both lean against the bed frame.
"to what do i owe the pleasure?" melchior asks, making a noise that begins as a yawn and ends as a laugh. the action makes moritz smile just a tad.
"just... i had to get out of my house... sorry. i didnt know where else to go, and, uh..."
"no worries, moritz, the gabor home will always be welcome to you," he grins, wrapping an arm around the other boys shoulders and hugging him to him for a moment. he releases his grip after a moment but lets his hand rest on his shoulder. moritz hates the fact that he notices.
"melchi? can i ask you something?" moritz breathes, resting his head on melchiors chest he closes his eyes for a moment, letting himself feel the warmth of melchis body against him, letting himself enjoy it even though he knows its not okay.
"yes. i do know everything," he teases.
"do you think its wrong for a man to sleep with a man?"
"before or after marriage?"
"there is no marriage between two men, melchi."
"okay. well, do they love each other?" melchior asks with a brow raised.
moritz sits back up again, and melchiors hand drops from his shoulder as he shifts. melchi looks at him expectantly, searching moritzs face.
"yes. does it matter?"
"no, not really. but i dont think its wrong, per se. we dont really consider that part so much, as a society. the only homosexual ive ever known was bobby mahler, and he seemed perfectly normal. how can i decide whats wrong and whats right just based on one experience?"
"you... cant?" moritz guesses.
"exactly, moritz. i cant. so, its not wrong or right."
moritz nods slowly. "i dont think its wrong, either."
"i said i didnt think it was wrong or right," melchior corrects him stubbornly. "but, no matter what it is, morally, i dont think the church gets to decide that. am i supposed to believe there is some heavenly figure just waiting to torture men the moment they die because they fucked other dudes?"
normally, moritz might give a shocked laugh at melchiors ever-blunt observations, but he just stares, feeling more empty than anything. melchior lets out a short sigh, as he can sense that his friend isnt completely satisfied with his answer.
its not sudden when it happens. melchior lets one hand rest on moritz cheek, the other on his thigh, and he leans in, giving the boy a kiss. moritz seems to be stunned for a moment, his eyes open and his lips frozen, but he kisses back, unsure of himself. melchior pulls away, giving the boy a curious look.
"that didnt feel wrong," melchior muses.
"y-yeah. i mean, no, no, it didnt," he breathes. how long has he daydreamed of this happening? he stares at melchior, hearing his heart beat loud in his ears. he cant let this end, not like this. something stirs in him, and he moves a hand to rest over the one on his thigh, squeezing it gently.
"moritz?"
"it felt right, melchi. do it again."
melchior pauses, moving his thumb in circles on moritzs cheek. hes never seen him so... determined. moritz is more akin to seaweed in the ocean current that washes up on the beach than anything else. to put it simply -- hes a pushover. thats mostly the reason why melchior likes him.
"please."
he presses his lips against moritzs again, moving the hand from his cheek down his chest, feeling the boy shiver against him.
"melchior..."
he feels his name against his lips as he pushes moritz down, laying sideways on the mattress with melchior hovering over him after pulling away.
"how does it feel, melchi?" moritz asks shakily.
"you tell me," he murmurs, kissing moritz again, so hard it hurts his chapped lips for a moment. moritz tries to match him, tries to be good enough for melchior, but he feels like hes awoken something in his friend that he doesnt think he can handle at all. he hears him sigh his name, making mortizs head spin. he moves his hands over melchis back to his hips, wanting so badly to let them crash into his.
"no," moritz suddenly mumbles against melchiors busy lips. "no."
melchior pulls away, breathing heavily. moritz pushes a strand of hair out of his face.
"this is..." moritz breathes. melchior gets off of him, allowing moritz to sit up besides him. the blankets on the bed have all fallen to the floor, tangled and unused, as the two boys made their own warmth.
"good?" melchior asks, glancing down at his lap with a snicker.
"shut up, asshole," moritz says, quickly scrambling to grab a pillow to hide his boner, which just makes melchior laugh more. "youre one to talk!" moritz says, looking down at the bulge in melchiors own trousers. how odd to think that was caused by him, the boy who can barely tie his ties, the boy whos curly hair cant be contained, the boy who... was, well, just a boy.
"im not embarrassed of my urges," melchior says, cocking a brow. "im human, so are you. what is there to be ashamed of?"
thats it. thats what makes melchior a man. how he takes things in stride and seems to keep everything under his control.
"nothing, i suppose..." moritz murmurs, looking away from his friend.
"you know, you can take care of it."
"huh?"
melchior makes a crude jerking motion with his hands, complete with exaggerated moaning.
"stop!" moritz says, covering his ears as his face turns red. melchior laughs.
"no one will know, you have my word, moritz. theres nothing wrong about two men taking care of business down there!" he insists.
moritz narrows his eyes. "mhm. sure."
"so youre rejecting my offer?" melchior asks, tilting his head to the side.
"...not exactly."
melchior grins. "knew youd come around... mind lending me a hand here?"
"melchi!"
"what?"
"if were going to do this, i dont want to be bombarded with puns the whole time!"
"oh, the sacrifices we make for the people we love..."
moritz finds himself laughing, shaking his head gently. melchior rolls back onto him to unbutton moritzs pants himself.
"melchi, my dads going to kill me when i come home late..."
"worth it, though, right?" melchior asks.
"worth it," moritz agrees.