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It was a colder than usual day for March. The grey sky seemed to draw all the color from the land as the dark clouds threatened to weep. Life had been busy as the Teutonic Orders’ boss finally decided to settle him down- but the politics of it all bored the developing knight. He itched for the action of the old days, and was getting little of it squirreled away in some castle in the middle of nowhere.
As he wandered through long corridors, footsteps echoing on the stone floor, he found himself stepping into the long meeting hall. It was here where he was forced to sit alongside his boss through long, arduous talks about who-gets-what and who-goes-where. Teutonic ran his hand down the smooth wood of the table, eyeing maps left haphazardly askew on the table. As the door creaked open, Teutonic jumped in surprise, taking a step backward from the table and knocking into a chair.
The Knights Templar looked smaller than ever, peeking through the massive doorway. Teutonic hadn’t seen him in months. He looked slightly more gaunt than usual- his baby face was thinning out, and his clothing looked more dishevelled. Teutonic bit his teeth together, warily- this was something that would’ve never flown with him before. He remembered the countless times that Templar had stopped him before coming to a village- Templar fidgeting with Teutonic's clothing to make sure that it sat right. He was an honorable Teutonic order- and he needed to look presentable, Teutonic remembered Templar would always say.
Rain streaked down Templar’s gently smiling face, falling delicately from the flicks of his hair. It seemed that the sky had decided to give way after all. Teutonic was surprised to see him- but happy. Templar shuffled in, closing the door behind him before turning back to Teutonic.
“Hey, KT!” Teutonic grinned. Templar's head fell to the side as his grin widened at the greeting of his old friend. Teutonic strode towards his old friend, clasping onto his shoulder. Teutonic was a great deal stronger than Templar, and he swayed a little bit with Teutonic’s greeting.
“What’re you doing here?” Teutonic asked. “I thought you were busy in the south being uh, persecuted or something.” The Templar looked forlornly at the ground. Teutonic’s brow twitched, and he mentally scolded himself. Templar recovered easily though, as he usually did.
“I came to visit you- I heard you’d settled down, and I wanted to come see your new house.” Templar said, softly. Teutonic's heart twinged a little. He hadn't realized how much he had missed his old friend. Templar always spoke so quietly and gently, but no matter the volume his words were always loud. It seemed as if it was always Teutonic’s job to bring the energy to their relationships- whether the situation called for it or not.
They stood quietly for a moment, before Teutonic grabbed Templar’s hand, yanking him away.
“Well then, let’s go see it!” Teutonic said excitedly. Templar beamed back at him, his angelic face lighting up the otherwise dreariness of the day.
Teutonic’s castle wasn’t much to look at in any way, but with Templar here it was a welcome distraction from Teutonic’s ever growing boredom. Teutonic beamed as he blathered on, dragging Templar from room to room. Templar just smiled and nodded when needed, but he was always like that.
“And this is my room,” Teutonic introduced when they finally reached it. He finally let go of Templar’s hand, flopping himself onto the bed. Templar glanced down at his hand, the one Teutonic had just been holding, turning it over and back. Teutonic lazily took a big stretch, yawning as Templar closed and locked the door behind him. Teutonic looked on curiously as he heard the lock click, but Templar just walked to the window. He gazed out over the stretching hills, lavender eyes roaming the countryside. He huffed slightly as he brought his hands up to the fastenings of his cloak. It was still raining outside as Templar carefully began to remove his garments.
Teutonic was transfixed as Templar’s cloak fell away, and he began to slowly remove his armor. Teutonic had never seen him without it- but nevertheless off came his pauldrons and faults- tassets and chainmail. As it all fell away, Templar was left standing in his white linen tunic and braies. Teutonic watched on, cheeks feeling hot as Templar looked around the room before silently clambering on top of Teutonic’s bed. He grabbed the curtains behind him, pausing for a moment, before pulling them closed with a whizzing noise.
They were bathed in darkness as Templar stood, feet shifting awkwardly on the bed, towering over Teutonic. His hands were still gripping the curtains, face unreadable in the new darkness. As Templar finally turned towards Teutonic, his eyes were finally adjusting to the dark. Teutonic watched Templar as his collarbones peeked from his shit- his chest rising and falling before Templar crouched, crawling to sit next to Teutonic. That bad feeling rose again in Teutonic’s chest- but he thought knew what it was now. He wasn't used to seeing Templar acting so… human.
Templar’s order held him in such high regard, and Teutonic was always the first to say it got to his head. It had even gotten to the point that Templar claimed he could hear God’s voice- something that would always crack Teutonic up. Despite it all, and Teutonic wouldn’t admit it to anyone, especially not Templar, if anyone could hear God’s voice, it would most certainly be the trembling child sitting next to him.
As they sat, shoulder to shoulder in the shrouded darkness of Teutonic’s canopy bed, the silence seemed to carry words between them- words unable to be spoken from lips. The only real sounds were the gentle breathing of the two teens as their hearts whispered forbidden secrets to one another. Teutonic hesitated to break the silence- a sound he had always hated before- the quiet monotony drove him crazy, he found himself wanting to savor it. Eventually, when it felt right, his voice finally cracked a whisper.
“Sing for me?” Teutonic felt awkward asking- he had always made fun of Templar for doing it, as it seemed to be his only hobby, but now he wanted nothing more but to hear it. He wanted to hold it, to cherish it, to feel it in his soul. He could hear Templar shift next to him, hands kneading on his knees as he complied.
Teutonic usually boasted immunity to the power of Templar’s songs, but just like everything else about today- it was different. As Templar’s gentle melody filled the darkened bedspace, pouring light into his soul, Teutonic soon felt pressing hot tears gathering in his eyes- threatening to spill. He supposed it was okay, it was just this once, and it was dark anyways. It was just them- two small, scared boys sitting in the dark, where God couldn’t see. Teutonic was sure that’s what Templar wanted- what Templar meant by shutting them away, the closest they’d ever have to their own world, their own little place.
Teutonic found his hand searching in the dark, instinctively reaching out, searching. His arm weaved under Templar’s arm, palm meeting Templar's palm. Their fingers weaved together- gripping each other tightly. Teutonic’s thumb rubbed the side of his hand, and found Templar's unusually cold fingers caressing back. Templar was still trembling as Teutonic leaned his head against his shoulder, which dropped eagerly, allowing Teutonic to reach into the crook of his neck. Templar gently laid his own head over top of Teutonic’s, breathing and hands intertwined.
It was a long time before Teutonic realized that Templar had stopped singing, the two of them crouching, intertwined in the dark, too afraid to move.
“Teutonic?” Templar asked, voice wavering. Teutonic squeezed his hand in response. He couldn’t bear to speak.
“I want you to call me Tobias, okay?” He continued. “I want to hear you call me Tobias.”
Teutonic finally moved, gently slipping his head from under Tobias’. He shuffled, never letting go of his hand, but positioning himself so that he was in front of Tobias, head now resting on Tobias’ knees.
“Only if you call me Gilbert,” he said, firmly.
“Gilbert,” Tobias’ voice gently wafted through the darkness, almost cooing. It made Gilbert’s heart ache.
“Tobias,” he choked. “Tobias,” he echoed. Gilbert pushed through his knees, hands sliding down his legs and up his sides. They traced around to Tobias’ back as Gilbert buried his head into his chest, fingers grasping at the fabric of his shirt. Tobias tried to stop his hands from shaking, as he ran his fingers through Gilbert's hair, but he couldn’t. He grabbed his own fistful of Gilbert’s clothing, his other hand pushing Gilbert’s head deeper into his chest, breathing shakily as they held each other tightly.
They sat for hours, muttering words of comfort, names like prayers. They stroked each other’s hair, pressing lips to cheeks. At some point during their hazy trance they drifted off to sleep, tightly grasping each other, too afraid to let go. The day and night passed quietly- but also far too quickly for either of their likings.
Dawn came, the crimson sun hot as fire, forcing Tobias to pry himself away from Gilbert. Gilbert wanted to call him back, beg him to stay in with him, but the curtain was open- God was watching once more. Tobias silently dressed, strapping all of his finery perfectly into place, as he hadn’t done in so long. He paused, hand on the doorknob, before turning back to give Gilbert a sorrowful smile and a bow of his head.
Gilbert never saw him again after that.
A few weeks after his death, when Gilbert was finally able to drag himself out of bed once more, he discovered Tobias’ rosary- seemingly purposefully forgotten underneath his dresser. Eventually Teutonic learned to move on- he watched the empires around him rise and fall. In his own time he became his own global superpower as well- however he met the same end- brilliantly burning out.
He still thought of Tobias though- he kept his rosary tucked closely to his heart, tracing his thumbs over the worn beads- even after he had long turned his back on the God that allowed his first love to burn. Sometimes Gilbert swore up and down he could see him out of the corner of his eye- smiling, hands clasped together as they often were. It made him wonder if Tobias would be proud of what he became, or what he fizzled out to be. He supposed he would never know- at least until his time came- and they were reunited once more.