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"Are you fucking nuts?" Matthew yelled at Thomas and rushed toward the riverbank, kicking his shoes off along the way. Fritz was frantically splashing around with his arms like a bird hatchling attempting to take its first flight, just as featherless and clumsy.
"This will teach you to keep your nose out of other people’s business," Thomas pointed at Fritz with venom in his eyes, completely ignoring Matthew, who was now waist-deep in the bitter-cold river, wading slowly through the stream to reach his friend and drag him out of the water. Thomas stood up there with a smug grin, arms folded victoriously, amusing himself with the show.
"Grab my hand," Matthew called when he was within arm’s reach. Fritz yanked at it with such desperate force he almost dragged Matthew along with him, had it not been for him already holding onto a tree branch for dear life. Finally feeling some sense of security and firm, albeit slippery riverbed beneath his feet, Fritz slowly started making his way toward Matthew, whose muscles were straining to their limits to be able to pull closer a man larger than himself.
"Hey, what’s all this?!" Jane shrieked, hurrying to see what all the ruckus was about. The sudden loud sploshing sound had made it seem like the water wheel had torn off and crashed into the river. Instead she found the two new carpenters crawling out of the stream and Thomas watching them with an arrogant smirk.
"That fucker threw me into the river!" Fritz shouted as soon as he found the strength, now that he wasn’t fighting for his bare life anymore, with the water only reaching up to his thighs.
Jane paid Thomas a stern look, her mouth a thin, pissed-off line. He only shrugged with his hands up.
"He has crossed a line, and he paid for it. End of story." With that, he turned to leave now that the performance was over.
"You will fucking pay for this!" Fritz yelled the moment he stood on firm ground, determined to catch up with Thomas and feed him his fist, except Matthew blocked his way and grabbed both his arms, digging his fingertips into the muscle.
"No, you’ll only make this worse," Matthew hissed forcefully and held Fritz in place, standing in the way.
"I’ll be looking forward to that!" Thomas hollered, walking away, not even glancing back over his shoulder.
Jane closed her eyes and sighed, then looked over the state of their disheveled attire. The river was running thick with mud after a heavy downpour earlier. A chunk of water weeds was clinging onto Fritz’s ankle.
"Let me at least wash those clothes."
"Don’t waste your time, I already washed it for them!" Thomas ordered hoarsely and disappeared inside the mill.
"You’re too kind, Jane," Matthew spoke with a warm tone despite freezing in the clammy clothes sticking to his skin. "But we don’t want to cause you any more trouble. First we will get ahold of ourselves," he peered at the seething Fritz, whose arms he was still gripping just in case, "and then we’ll deal with the rest."
"Alright then," Jane let out softly, "but do let me know if you change your mind. Thomas doesn’t have to know."
Once Jane was out of earshot, Matthew directed all his attention to Fritz, but his mellow voice wasn’t leaving him. "Stirring any more shit will end up poorly for us, Fritz. We need this job."
Fritz’s jaw jutted out in frustration. "He’s a cunt."
"He is," Matthew wholeheartedly agreed, "but we can’t afford to end up out on our ears. We still owe the monastery. And now also Henry." His hands could feel the rage in Fritz’s muscles subside, and once they felt looser to the touch, he finally dared slide his hands off them, not needing to guard him anymore. Now that the boiling wrath wasn’t keeping Fritz’s body hot anymore, he shuddered with chill. "Speaking of, Henry will show up soon enough. He might help us, hm? He always comes up with something."
"Aye, he could help us beat the shit out of him." Fritz punched his palm with his fist.
"Well," Matthew sighed, "I meant he could talk to them. They listened to him once, they’ll do it again. But hey. Now we need to get out of these clothes before we catch a cold. And I know just the thing that would do you good." He playfully poked into Fritz’s soaked chest with his finger, leaving a dent in the fabric. "How about the baths, eh? We’ll warm up after this bitter surprise. Our clothes will get washed, we’ll then change into clean ones, and we’ll get to eye up some pretty wenches on top of that. What do you say?"
"Mmh," Fritz grumbled with indifference, nodded and kicked the ball of water weeds off his leg. "And Matthew? Thank you for pulling me out of there."
Fritz was leaning into the conveniently curved wooden bathtub, filling its embrace with his back muscles. The air in the tent was dense with a mixture of flowery scents, and together with the heat rising from the hot water the bathmaids kept pouring in, it drew a perfect picture of a summer meadow on a scorching day. The balmy image behind his eyelids took him away from Ledetchko, from the mill and that bastard Thomas, landing him somewhere nice where he would be alone with Matthew, and they would…
A new hot waterfall spouting from a large pitcher and licking his legs on the bottom of the tub woke him up from the colorful daydream that had made him smile to himself softly even without realizing it. His mind immediately wandered off to the other tent beside his, thinking what it would be like to sit in the same tub with Matthew, legs tangling into each other in the cramped space while trying to keep the water steady to be able to sneakily peek through it at Matthew’s body.
Losing himself in thought again, he didn’t even realize the bathmaid hadn’t left for more water this time but prepared to scrub his back and hair instead. He quickly swept his improper visions away, fearing his body might react to them like it usually did, and the bathmaid might get the wrong idea. Her nails began digging into his scalp and forbade him from escaping back to his fantasies anyway, as if the fingertips burrowed through the bone and deep into the brain, scraping all the delightful images out. As the bathmaid leaned over for something on the side table, her breast brushed against the back of Fritz’s head. It was a pleasant feeling, he had to admit. Although he couldn’t imagine what she would have to do to make him crave her more than Matthew. Most importantly, he didn’t want to imagine it.
The anger had dissolved, bodies were relaxed, clothes got washed, and Matthew and Fritz reunited at the baths’ gate to leave for the mill, both dressed in a fresh change.
"So? Feeling better?" Matthew asked while approaching Fritz, clearly in good spirits himself.
"Aye," Fritz admitted calmly with a barely perceptible nod, which was a stark difference compared to the state Matthew had left him in. "It was a good idea."
"Told you so." He gently nudged into him with his elbow as he joined him, ready to set off.
Returning back to the mill, Fritz kept secretly glancing to the side at his friend. His own short hair was already nearly dry, but Matthew’s longer locks were still damp and sticking to his skin, twisting into little waves. He looked so adorable like that, Fritz had a hard time tearing his eyes off him at all. Not that Matthew would notice the staring anyway. Instead, he rambled about his utter disbelief that they hadn’t had baths back home in Skalitz, and how profitable they would’ve been with all the dirty miners around, how it would’ve brought new people in, and that there finally would’ve been something else to do other than spending the evenings at the tavern.
"By the way, I wonder what herbs they used on you, you smell really nice," Matthew said out of the blue without thinking, catching Fritz off guard, whose heart fluttered and dropped through his ribcage, bumped against his stomach and awakened a swarm of butterflies in there.
You smell really nice. You smell really nice. Fritz didn’t hear a word afterwards. Matthew kept prattling on about some other things, but it all sounded blurry and muffled as if underwater. The loudest thing echoing through Fritz’s mind was a comment Matthew had already forgotten he’d blurted out, yet it had the power to completely flip around Fritz’s whole day, almost making him blank out the reason why they’d had to go to the baths in the first place. You smell really nice. By the time they reached the mill, Fritz had already come up with a fresh new plan. He was dead set on making smelling nice his mission.
Having barely a Groschen to his name wouldn’t stop him. Buying those fragrant oils they used in the baths was out of the question, and thievery was more of Matthew’s domain than his own. Fritz did recall there were some dried flowers hanging around the tent, even though he could hardly recognize fresh ones, let alone their dry, dead remains hanging upside down. Although, how hard can that be? If it smells good, it’s a keeper.
Whenever Matthew wasn’t around or paying attention, Fritz would sneak away and off to the meadow behind the mill. Bright colors became his navigation points, and he was determined to find the best-smelling flowers he could get his hands on. He wasn’t just idly bowing down to them and inhaling their aroma. Fritz had to put them to the test. Snapping their stems, he collected a handful of the bright blooms into his open palm. Then, checking closely there were no witnesses around, he lifted his shirt and rubbed the poor flowers all over his torso, including the armpits. Only rolled-up mash of their original color remained in his fist, with some bits having stuck to his skin due to the vigorous application. Now only to see if Matthew notices.
Any moment spent with Matthew around was a good time to test his new scent. When sitting at a table together, Fritz would lean closer to him ever so slightly, secretly peeking at him if it was working. While outside, he would stand upwind of him to have the spring breeze help him out in his wooing endeavor. Walking together somewhere, he would almost bump shoulders with Matthew while swinging his arms by his body to stir the air for it to finally reach Matthew’s nostrils. Once a few attempts like that had failed, Fritz would randomly pick out a new flower and repeat the process. There was no way on God’s green earth he wouldn’t find one that would do the trick.
The spring was just starting, and so many new colors would start budding all over the hills and valleys soon in addition to the early ones. Fritz believed his system to be shatterproof, albeit tedious. He could almost start calling himself an apothecary after such dedication to his research.
Not too long after smearing some new flower all over himself and going on about his day to spend it around Matthew, the fabric of his otherwise comfy shirt started feeling coarse on his skin. First only in a couple places, until it was stinging all over. Realizing the error of his ways, it was too late to do anything about it. The itchiness spread like wildfire, engulfing his body in its unforgiving embrace. He used every single opportunity to scratch himself without rousing unwanted attention from anyone. First he would spend more time at the privy, then, while leaning very casually against a wall, he’d shimmy his back against the rough plaster.
At one point he had to slip behind the mill, away from everybody, and do it properly for once, not giving a single fuck that scratching it was only making it worse. Clasping his arms to his chest, he dragged them with all his might across his torso and stomach with the fabric in between, serving as another tool to hopefully relieve himself of the itchiness. It felt so, so damn good.
"Fritz?" A worried voice stopped him in his tracks. Matthew stood behind him, having witnessed his odd little dance. "Is everything alright?" The concern in his tone was genuine.
Fritz turned to face him, dropping his arms and pretending to be just fine. "Yes?" His tensed-up posture and heavy breath were telling a different tale. He was going through a special kind of hell right there. Everything was on fire.
Matthew took a few steps closer. "You know lying is a sin, right? You’ve been acting weirder than usual today. And I saw the scratching. So what’s wrong?" He pointed at his chest as his eyebrows furrowed.
Guilty as charged, and really, really not wanting to do this, Fritz dodged his eyes and reached for the bottom hem of his shirt, slowly lifting it up. His whole body was burning pink, with rash bumps sprinkled all over the place, all swollen up into small mounds after the deed. Matthew jolted at the reveal, mouth agape, eyes jumping up and down between the state of Fritz’s body and his humiliated face. The fabric quickly fell back down like a curtain.
"What’s that, Fritz? Have you clashed with Thomas again? Has he pushed you into a ditch with nettles this time?"
The pressing urgency in Matthew’s tone made Fritz feel even worse. He sounded honestly worried for his friend, and Fritz had mucked it up big time instead. He dropped his head in shame and shook it.
"Then out with it."
It was time to come clean. Being rejected wouldn’t be nearly as painful as his inflamed skin. He began telling Matthew a short version of the story, leaving out some of the more embarrassing elements, as his current state was already disgraceful enough. Fritz admitted he had enjoyed being told such a nice thing on their way from the baths and wanted to hear it again, and instead he failed day after day trying to make it happen. Then he explained that he had found a plant he hadn’t seen anywhere around yet and thought to give it a go. And it ended up a disaster. He couldn’t look Matthew in the eyes anymore. He felt like a walking failure.
Matthew exhaled and stepped closer. For a few seconds, nobody spoke.
"You have been doing all this… for me?"
Fritz dared glimpse at him for a split second only to escape him again. He noticed Mathew’s eyebrows having risen gently and eyes flickering like two little flames. With his head still drooping low, Fritz nodded.
"Don’t look at me like that. I know it’s stupid."
From the corner of his eye, Fritz saw some slow movement in front of him. He didn’t know what to expect, but he was ready for anything. The warmth of Matthew’s hand suddenly cradled Fritz’s cheek, brushing his stubbly jaw.
"It’s not stupid."
And after a fleeting moment of hesitation, Matthew lifted himself up on his tiptoes and swiftly pressed a tiny kiss on the other side of Fritz’s face. A mellow smile spread on his lips as he landed back down on his heels.
Now it was Fritz who was standing there in utter shock, gaping at Matthew with his eyes wide open, replaying in his head what had just happened. The cursed rash wasn’t even bothering him as much at the moment. A sudden lack of air in his lungs reminded him he had forgotten to breathe.
Matthew chuckled to himself quietly. "You don’t have to do insane stuff just to get my attention, you know?"
Fritz had gone fully mute by then. His insides were molten goo at that point, partly from the delightful wave of love washing through him, and partly because of the hellishly burning skin.
"Look," Matthew continued, "let’s get you back to the baths now, they might have something for the rash there. And then we’ll… deal with the rest, hm? Together." Once more, he caressed the happily agreeing face in front of him and then led him to the baths to help fix the mess the same place had started.