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During their lecture tour in Japan, Werner Heisenberg and P.A.M Dirac had the opportunity to explore new places, answer many sharp questions from brilliant minds, and most importantly, to spend precious time together with each other. Most of it, of course, was spent in professional collaboration and work reflecting their almost celebrity-like reputation now, and Dirac preferred to keep it like that. But Werner, outgoing as he was, wanted a change in routine, a spark in this circuit that had been working so smoothly.
During one of their lectures, Dirac had taken the lead and was speaking in his so famous monotonous yet grounding tone. Perfect English, perfect accent and perfect physique… Heisenberg kept thinking. The way he'd rest his hands on the table in front of their crowd of intrigued students, how he'd speak in such a perfect tone—opposite of what many would say Heisenberg's way of lecturing was—that students understood clearly. And so did he, but what was going in his ears were things he already understood. What he was really understanding was how and in what ways, during the past weeks of working with this strange man, he had formed “feelings” for him.
The German gazed at the Brit's long fingers working on the chalkboard, chalk in hand, how they'd spread out on the wooden table when he'd rest his arms on it, what unspeakable things he'd imagine of those wonderful fingers doing to him. He understood his voice like it was beautiful piano music to his ears, his monotonous and stable voice sparking something in him he didn't quite understand, given he seeked the more “outgoing” types. The best of all was his physique! His long frame, how oftentimes, Dirac would lend him his overcoat when it got cold and it would extend just a bit too low below Heisenberg's feet, how he would look like straddling his waist with his masterpiece of a body.
His breaking point came when Paul extended his pointer stick to an equation he had written on the chalkboard a moment ago to explain something. How delicately, yet firmly he held it. Werner imagined the possibility of his friend breaking the wooden stick in thirds, perfectly equal in length, and using them.. elsewhere..
But perhaps Werner got a bit too erotic in his thoughts. As he didn't realize he kept a constant gaze on the man as he spoke from his seat. When the lecture concluded an hour later. Dirac asked him what was so confusing about this topic that they had gone over about four times before, Werner simply excused it to incoming illness or fatigue from constant workload.