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“Do you want to come?”
“It doesn’t happen often that you ask me to join, now that I think about it. It is usually I who drags you along my whims, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t go if I didn’t want to. So?”
“I know,” Dietfried laughs through the phone. The invention has been proving to be terribly convenient over the past years, for those who could afford it. Logically, Dietfried was among them, and expectedly, Leon still worked in places where it wasn’t a problem, when he wasn’t hunting one forgotten book or another. “I’m interested.”
“Thought you would be.”
“May I come pick you up?”
“It’s alright, I’ll take the train.”
“As you wish. We shall meet at the station then, let me arrange it from there.”
“Thank you.”
Dietfried knew the sound and tone and colour of Leon’s voice enough by now to know he was smiling. In that little, discreet and soft way he sometimes couldn’t help but tease with a kiss to the corner of soft lips. “How busy are you?”
“More than I would be if at least two apprentices here did their job right. I wonder who trained them, if at all.”
“Well, I’m going to guess it clearly wasn’t you, star.”
This time, Leon allowed himself a laugh. “No, it wasn’t. Perhaps that’s on me then. I'll go and fix what I can now, so I can be less busy next weekend.”
“Right. I’ll see you soon. Take care, Leon.”
“You too.”
Dietfried waited, as he always did, for the other to put the phone receiver down, and with a smirk proceeded to cancel some plans and ruffle some feathers for the upcoming two weeks.
Their reunions haven't changed much.
They were always quiet.
Often amidst other people, and therefore withdrawn and secret. Careful, because that was how they treated each other. Sweet, because despite everything Dietfried couldn't help himself but brush his hand against Leon's, or rest it on his back when he led him to the car. And then they were intense, because Leon knew no other way when their eyes met. Honest and straightforward and firm. It was hard not to kiss him, but Dietfried was planning for that scandal later on in life.
He pulled Leon towards himself before one of the rushing passengers would collide with him. “Let's get out of here.”
“Aren't we boarding the train at nine?”
“Nonsense,” Dietfried waved his hand as they walked fast. Leon has grown enough for his steps to be almost equal to Dietfried's in length. Besides, one of them was younger and used to a work of constant travel, and the other had a few old injuries decorating his bones. “I ordered a car.”
“Oh, that's fine. I can drive.”
Dietfried turned around for a second as he led the way to the parking area next to the station. “Like that one time you almost drove off the road,” he poked fun with a smug little smile.
“Do I remember it wrong or is this almost-incident old enough not to need mentioning anymore? Besides,” Leon eyed Dietfried, “you were there and could’ve helped.”
“How?” Dietfried held laughter back.
“By being less distracting.”
“Oh, I’m afraid that’s mildly unattainable. It’s part of my natural charm.”
Leon rolled his eyes, humoured, while Dietfried dismissed a gentleman from the car company awaiting them with a cordial exchange of politeness.
“So, let me drive?”
“One condition.”
Leon blinked in question.
“I’m driving on the way back.”
“Oh.” Leon shrugged. “Sure.”
Dietfried nodded satisfied and took his seat. “Know the way?”
“I’ve got the map memorised.”
Dietfried took Leon’s hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Pretend you don’t, and let me be the guide.”
“Right at the crossroads, and then we are fine for fifteen minutes.”
“Mm.”
Leon drove smoothly. Dietfried relaxed in the seat, wondering if the landscape slowly morphing into one of countryside and less crowds would be enough to make him sit in a less educated manner.
“Right again, and at the end of the road left, dearest.”
“Yes, captain.”
The corners of Dietfried’s lips tilted upwards. “Is this payback for my distraction?”
“What’s so funny out there?”
“The battle between nature and man.”
Leon dared take his eyes off the road in a moment of disbelief.
“I’m sorry?”
“Some poor farmer is trying to plough a field, and sow whatever is supposed to be sowed in winter. The pigeons are doing a superb job at lining up right behind him and eating it all.”
Leon realised, with warmth blooming in his chest, that there were still sides to Dietfried he might discover one day.
“It’s been a while since I’ve last visited.”
“You’ve been here before?”
“Just the mansion, during formal visits when I was younger.” With father, went forever unsaid. “Where is the exhibition being held?”
“Right wing is the gallery, as far as my friend told me. No idea about the left one or the main building. He told me to come and disappeared, as usual.”
“Kyle?”
“No, you don’t know him. We worked together for a summer years ago, and he spawns here and there when he pleases.”
“And drops free tickets?”
“I stopped pretending I have any idea what he’ll bring,” Leon laughs.
Dietfried returns the smile. “I should take you to see the mansion too at some later date. If I remember right, it has since been remade into a museum.”
“I’d like that.”
Dietfried knew, because Leon loved all things that had secrets and were hard to find, and he liked keeping them safe and protected and cared for. He supposed stars were sort of like that, too. Discovered, observed, noted down for whoever would come when they would all be far gone. He did not know how he ended up fitting between those beautiful things, so he said nothing.
“Is the place old?”
“Older than some of those to our name.”
“Some?”
“We’re an old family,” Dietfried dismissed it, because he found such things a given. “So, where is the priority entrance at?”
“You just assume that, hm?” Leon laughed, and walked directly towards it.
There were only a handful of pieces Leon really wanted to see.
Two of them were originals of maps that had been reproduced in several geography books still used to this day, one was that of an imaginative tree, but Leon wanted to see the cat sleeping in its shade, and two were skies. One of the latter he had been quietly looking at for the past ten minutes from a leather bench in the middle of the room.
It was not as if he had not seen the real thing before. He had, several times, closer than the painter ever had, he assumed. Le Verrier’s observatory owned telescopes the public rarely had access to. He thought that was what made it worth seeing.
The sky someone saw a long time ago, still the same as the one Leon could look at every clear night. Human life mattered little to stars. He would pass, they would stay. Still, the stars from that very day the painting was made, were now there unchanging, permanently trapped between four wooden blocks, a piece of the sky stolen for Leon to see.
He thought it a little cruel, and a little inspiring. A small reminder that perhaps one of his skies, or books, or words, would be there for someone else to lean on. A small comfort, perhaps unneeded, but pleasant nonetheless.
However, paintings weren’t Leon’s thing as much as they were Dietfried’s.
Leon glanced to his side with a soft smile.
Visitors were few, mostly scattered elsewhere. Their hushed voices and footsteps could be heard, but just barely. It was a terribly windy, albeit sunny day, and people were wise in choosing a different time to visit an exhibition that had only recently been put on.
Each room, the older man walked quietly around in silence and only proceeded to the next one when Leon did. If Leon finished sooner, Dietfried was waited for instead.
What he was seeing in paintings, Leon couldn’t quite tell. Dietfried’s appreciation and financial support for art was well known to many, and they have both been to other galleries before. But he had never asked his lover what it meant to him, and decided to do so soon.
Whether it was an escape, a picture of a what-if and could-have-been.
Whether it was similar to his own memories.
Whether it was simple enjoyment.
Whether it was rebellion, outside of what he was supposed to like.
Whether it was, as were the stars for Leon, a story from the past, an extended hand from someone from a different place, a different time.
Whether it was admiration for the skill.
Or perhaps something that opened wounds, or healed them.
Leon didn’t know, but he wanted to.
Later, when they would be warm, and Dietfried’s shoulder would be beneath his cheek, or Dietfried’s head on his chest, and their hands entangled somewhere, somehow, between locks of hair, or fingers, or touching skin.
They would be naked and pleasantly tired, a bit sleepy, covered with a heavy blanket, but Leon’s shoulders would be still sweaty and peeking out, and Dietfried would rub them to keep them warm.
Leon thought it a good time to ask.
A pair of shoes stopped next to him.
“What are you thinking, star?”
Leon looked up at Dietfried and back to the painting. A sky made of too many stars, too many details to encapsulate a feeling, and yet.
“That it must be hard putting the entire world on just a small piece of canvas and into a frame. I don’t think I could ever do it.”
Dietfried turned pensive.
While Leon stared at the painting, Dietfried stared at him. He reached out, turning Leon’s face towards himself, cupping it into his palms, one side each. He looked, and spoke, carefully.
“I think you’re wrong there, dearest. You already have.”
Leon said nothing, nor did he blink, and Dietfried let go.
The sun was about to set.
“Did you like it?”
Dietfried nodded. “Very much so.”
“I’m glad. Ah, thank you.” Leon bowed slightly to the personnel returning their coats and leading them to the car.
Dietfried did the same and sat in the driver’s seat. He passed his coat to Leon. He didn’t want to have his movements restrained on the road, and, mainly and more importantly, letting Leon be cold was something he often considered a personal failure. Leon insisted he was used to cold places, but Dietfried knew well enough how to be stubborn.
“Say, Leon.”
“Hm?”
“Is this the first time we both have our hair cut short simultaneously?”
Leon thought and found he couldn’t remember. “Might be. I’ve just cut it though, aren’t you letting it grow out again?”
“Yeah,” Dietfried sighed. “I was convinced to try a shorter style, but I miss it.”
“Yeah,” Leon nodded to the window, “I do too.”
One of theirs more than the other.
“You know…”
“Yes?”
“I was thinking I should perhaps look into these dyes for hair.”
“Huh?” Leon turned to Dietfried. “Why?”
Dietfried raised a brow. “Well, there are things appearing on my temples.”
At most five individual silver hairs.
Leon’s face turned positively horrified.
“Don’t you dare.”
“Excuse me?” Dietfried was taken aback.
Leon thought the silver suited Dietfried’s dark hair entirely too much for his own sanity, and also that saying how it reminded him of the night sky a bit wouldn’t benefit their overall safety on the road, so he toned it down.
“I think they suit you.”
Dietfried stared in front of him as if he was contemplating his entire life for the next couple of minutes.
Leon turned his face away from the window. “Why did you want to drive?”
Dietfried looked at him from the corner of his eye. “I knew you’d rather look at the stars at night.”
When Leon hid beneath his coat and found his hand to squeeze tightly, Dietfried chuckled.
Leon knew he wouldn’t be able to keep the temple thing a secret for long.
“Star.”
“Dietfried?”
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
“No.”
Dietfried smiled. “The car doesn’t have to be returned tomorrow.”
Leon hummed.
He thought of the night he had imagined earlier, and now of the morning that would come after, and the entire day, and who knows if he would be lucky enough to catch another sunset, if that was what Dietfried had planned.
Too many feelings, too many thoughts, to encapsulate them in mere words.
He did the best that he could, and searched for Dietfried’s hand again, kissed its knuckles, and pressed it tightly, warmly, between his own, one side each.
“Where?”
Dietfried dared, on that empty road, to press a single soft kiss to Leon’s temple. “I have the map well memorised.”