Work Text:
Paul Dirac could not understand how, for some people, eating was a leisurely and enjoyable activity, often ceremonial and so special for some that it could have been considered sacred. For Paul, the need for food was nothing but an irritating obstacle that got in the way of his beloved work. Even as a child, he had hated having to put down his studies to sit at the table for dinner. Although, some days it had felt more like hatred for who was at the table as opposed to what was on it.
~~~
Bohr looked up from his typewriter, looking forwards to the door that was currently bolted shut. He groaned at the papers, which he had now realised were strewn about his office, but upon becoming conscious of the persistent knock at the door, such a thought was quickly pushed aside. Slowly moving out of his chair, he walked over and opened the door, to be met with vibrant blue eyes and messy, dark blonde hair. Werner Heisenberg had a scruffy collar, a blazer that appeared unironed and a face that appeared wired. Bohr wondered what was bothering him. But, before he had the chance to answer-
“Professor Bohr, can I ask you a rather.. informal question about Paul?”
Of course. He would only become that impatient to ask a question about Dirac, after all. To Heisenberg, when the man he loved became the centre of attention, all formalities were lost. Paul stole Werner’s heart and Bohr was lucky enough to watch it happen first hand, through Paul’s flustered accounts of just about everything Heisenberg did or even just the way that they looked at each other, the way that their hands happened to clumsily meet by “accident” every time they had met as if they were begging to wrap around each other and, perhaps most rewardingly enough, the way in which they would look each other. As their relationship progressed, Bohr watched the look in his Paul’s eyes when he was talking about Heisenberg from that of deep desire, longing, almost as if he thought the concept of himself and Werner was unattainable, to a look of profound fondness. The stars in the soft, intrinsic galaxies of his eyes appeared to go into orbit.
“Of course you can, Werner. Do the two of you have anything nice planned for tonight?”
“Sort of. He and I planned for him to come over to my house for dinner but I know that from what he and you have said, he does not really eat a lot. Is there anything I can make that he would like? I don’t want to make the night unpleasant for him by making something he dislikes,”
Bohr thought for a second; he did not want to do wrong to Paul, or to Werner for that matter. Suddenly, he felt like a parent, responsible for ensuring that their child’s lover really was the right one. But Werner had already passed that test ten times over and such a request only reaffirmed this for Bohr. All he could do now was sit back, watch Paul finally be free to flourish in the way that Bohr had always wanted him to but also to step in when one of them needed assistance. He was so glad that he could be that type of person, that Heisenberg knew instinctively to trust Bohr with his relationship.
Bohr stepped over to his desk beckoning Werner over, ripping a sheet of lined paper of a notebook and scribbling onto it. Werner was uncertain about what Bohr was doing until he was handed the sheet, which had the names and measurements for certain foods scrawled on.
“This is the recipe for the schnitzel Margrethe and I make for him when he comes to visit. He thoroughly enjoys it so it may be worth making,”
Heisenberg happily nodded, as Bohr noticed blush beginning to tint the apples of his cheeks. He hoped that his pride was not too apparent nor did he wish to overly fluster Heisenberg.
“The small shop just down the road should have everything you need,” Bohr added.
Werner thanked him profusely, promising to later update Bohr on the events of the night unless Dirac beat him to it. In return, Bohr thanked him for caring so deeply about Dirac; it really made a difference to him, Bohr had remarked.
~~~
Paul was filled with anxiety as he walked through the rainy Göttingen streets towards Werner’s house. He hoped that his aversion to most foods would not show, nor that whatever food Werner had decided to make would make him get sick, something which had happened before on numerous occasions throughout his childhood and ended in angry reprimands.
He almost told Werner about how he did not enjoy the majority of food and the few foods he could tolerate, he only ate out of necessity. But eventually, he decided against it. Werner was going out of his way to accommodate him already by inviting him to his home as opposed to a restaurant, which he was sure Werner would have preferred. As he walked up to the doorstep, he made an oath to himself that he would eat whatever Werner had made for him, hoping that he knew Paul well enough at least not to add any strange textures to the food.
The door opened and Heisenberg was there, dressed in a collared, navy polo button up that complimented his eyes well and brown trousers. Werner smiled, gently embracing Paul in his arms and ruffling his curls. Paul did not wish to do the same as not to mess up Werner’s gelled back hair but instead opted to kiss him on the cheek.
“Hi, Paulie,” Werner said, letting Paul out of his embrace. He sounded breathless; anxious, almost. Perhaps a little tense. Paul hoped he was alright.
Paul was led inside and he immediately was hit by the warm, comforting smell of what could have only been schnitzel. He smiled softly; how did Werner know?
“I made us both some schnitzel tonight. Truth be told, I was slightly anxious about tonight, I know that food can be a struggle for you, so I consulted Bohr and asked him what you liked. I hope this is okay; usually I am rather spontaneous and… experimental with my measuring but I tried my hardest to follow the recipe exactly, just for you,”
Paul did not know what to say; he knew, or at least he hoped he knew, that Werner cared for him but he did not know that he would go to such a length just to make him comfortable. Suddenly realizing all of the expectations of a “normal” relationship he thought Werner must have had to miss out on, Paul felt a burst of irrevocable guilt shock his system. Werner, sweet perceptive Werner, noticed as always and embraced him once again, kissing the top of his head and looking into his rich eyes that, truth be told, had likely encountered too many things they needn’t have seen.
“It’s okay. Really, my love, I had fun making this. And I am sure that I will enjoy it even more when we eat together,”
Paul blushed slightly, he forgot that Werner was so good at understanding him. Werner led Paul over to the living room. The room was mostly lit dimly, the light was off but with two lamps emanating a comforting, yellowed glow across the room. Various candles had been strewn on all the surfaces, eliciting a sultry glow and hypnotising flames which were fiercely dancing in synchronicity. There was a white, knitted woolen blanket on the double sofa and Paul tentatively stepped towards it, making himself comfortable.
“I will be back in a second, my darling. Allow me to fetch our dinner,”
Paul waited for a minute, tucking himself under the blanket and leaning on the sofa but leaving room for Werner when he returned.
~~~
Werner put a tray with two plates of schnitzel, two glasses of water and a small glass of wine for himself on the table opposite the sofa they were on. He and Paul got a plate each and then promptly snuggled up together, engaging in mindless chatter about their day. Werner could talk to Paul about anything and that meant the world to him.
As the evening waned on and Paul and Werner finished their dinner, they began to grow sleepy. Paul instinctively pulled up the blanket closer to them and Werner rested his head on Paul’s shoulder whilst running a hand through his hair. Paul had a feeling that it was time that he must start thinking about going home but god, he was so tired.
“I gather that you are feeling just as tired as me?” Werner asked and Paul nodded. Werner kissed him on the cheek, adoring how sweet he was when he was sleepy. Any signs of anxiety in his demeanour seemed to drop entirely, his eyes kept instinctively fluttering shut and then opening and he was smiling softly.
“Do you- do you wish to go to bed with me? You can borrow my clothes, only if you’re comfortable of course and I do not wish to get ahead of myself but-“
Werner was winding himself up, worrying that he had said the wrong thing, that this was somehow too soon. But his speech that was quickly turning into scattered incoherence was interrupted with a chaste kiss from Paul, who was likely taking a page out of Werner’s book in terms of quieting anxiety.
“I- I take that as a yes, if I am not mistaken, my dearest Paul?”
Paul nodded enthusiastically, and Werner grinned. He had been waiting for this for a long, long time.
~~~
Now tucked in Werner’s bed, the two men snuggled up closely to one another. Werner was lying on Paul’s chest and Paul was taking advantage of the fact that Werner’s hair had no gel in it by stroking his blonde strands. He looked so beautiful with his hair down. Paul wistfully wished, albeit most likely in vain, that Werner would wear his hair like this on more formal occasions. He was certain that Werner was asleep now, his breathing was deep and his eyes were closed peacefully. He wanted to spend every night like this, he realised, holding Werner lovingly after a long day of physics, which he hoped he and Werner would have also done together. He pondered what the next day would bring but he was safe in the knowledge that he would be with Werner. That quieted his thoughts, he realised. He had never felt like this before, as if he were floating above his anxieties instead of him and them coexisting on the same plane. He had never felt this peaceful, this assured, this loved. And that feeling clenched onto him; it took him by the hand and led him, much like his dearest Werner already was, into sleep.