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Friday evening, six o'clock. Florian entered his apartment, closed the door behind him and threw his bag on the chair where he always threw it when he came home from work. Finally, the end of work. Weekend! Better yet: a completely unplanned weekend, the first in a long time. Unlike usual, Florian would not pack a few things today and then set off on the Friday-night traffic jammed highway to be with Stefanie in just over two hours. This weekend was his, all his. And although he had no specific plans yet, he was sure that he would enjoy the time with himself, and that certainly no boredom would arise.
He had been working for the company for a month now and living in this city, several hundred kilometers from his home, the city where he was born, grew up and went to school, the city of his parents and his old friends, although most of them had also scattered in all directions by now. Back then, shortly before graduating from high school, he would never have imagined that they would lose sight of each other within such a short time, but now he knew better. The only one he still had occasional contact with was Simon, who had been his best friend for a long time. Before their paths diverged after school, they had spent a great deal of time together. They understood each other without words, often laughed at the same crap that no one else could laugh at, and knew each other like no one else. Even today, when they met, it was as if the years since graduating from high school had not existed; the old familiarity was always immediately there, as if their paths had never parted. Weeks could pass without them hearing from each other, and months without seeing each other. It started right after graduation. Florian had moved to southern Germany for his civilian service and subsequent studies, while Simon studied in Hessen. In this respect, it was perhaps surprising that they were still in contact at all. On top of that, Simon was still with Anke, and she didn't particularly like Florian, which was mutual. Somehow he couldn't forgive her for stealing his best friend, Florian, from him, so to speak, a good year before graduation, and for the fact that since then she, not Florian, had been Simon's most important point of reference. On the other hand, he knew that this was nonsense, of course: a friendship between boys was one thing, a relationship between a man and a woman was something completely different, two things that could complement each other but by no means compete. Or maybe they could? Because which of the two was the stronger bond in case of doubt was obvious, even Florian saw that, even if he didn't want to admit it at first, after all, he had older rights to Simon! And so there was always a slightly tense atmosphere when the three of them met (with Simon caught in the middle), which is why they avoided such meetings in the meantime. When Simon met Florian, it was only without Anke, which was undoubtedly better for everyone involved.
Stefanie was Florian's – how should he put it – current or future ex-girlfriend. She was his first girlfriend, and he had met her quite late in life, during his studies, at an age when many of his friends had already started and ended several relationships. He was happy to finally have found a girlfriend (and finally had sex). He hadn't liked being single for a long time, especially since Simon pointed out to him at each of their increasingly rare meetings that it was probably time for him, Florian, to finally get married; he was already seriously worried that Florian would end up an old maid and become whimsical. Well, the big feelings, the famous butterflies in the stomach, which were so often heard and read about, Florian had not felt, but it was nice to have someone special in his life. That went well for quite a while, without any particular ups and downs. But for a few months now, it had become apparent that it was probably coming to an end. When they saw each other (almost every day), they didn't have much to say anymore. The weekends they spent together were overshadowed by a certain boredom, and they only had sex about once every two weeks on average (although Stefanie would have liked to have slept with Florian a little more often, his interest in it was decreasing more and more). Florian increasingly had the feeling that she was constricting him, taking away his breath. And then there was still this certain point that sometimes made itself felt to Florian, very vaguely and indeterminately, like a diffuse light in dense fog that briefly lit up and immediately disappeared again, something that Florian didn't know what it was. He would have liked to have broken up with Stefanie, but he had no idea how to approach it, he shunned the conflict. So the offer from the freight company where he now worked was very convenient for him, as it offered him the opportunity to get away from Stefanie, at least in terms of distance. The new job meant moving to this city, far enough away from his previous place of residence and from Stefanie, at least far enough so that they didn't have to see each other every day. Stefanie was not particularly pleased about his departure and had asked him to reconsider, surely there would be another job nearby. But Florian didn't hesitate for long when he got the offer, and moved without further ado. Now they only saw each other on weekends. Most of the time Florian drove to her because, unlike her, he had a car; less often she came to him, which always involved a very complicated train ride. Otherwise, they talked on the phone every day.
Florian took off his shoes and sat down in the armchair by the southern window. From here he had a wonderful view over the garden and the adjoining park, whose trees were slowly beginning to change color in the fall. This was his favorite place, where he could sit and read for hours or just look out the window. He loved being alone here in this apartment. In fact, the apartment was a dream, and he had gotten it through his company. It was on the upper floor of an old villa near the city center and consisted of two large rooms connected by a pair of double doors, with parquet flooring and high, stuccoed ceilings, a small kitchen and a spacious bathroom with a huge tub. The villa belonged to a retired managing director of the company, who lived with his wife in the lower part of the house. Florian got along very well with his landlords. On top of that, they were usually away on some kind of trip. Florian's apartment had been occupied by the landlords' son until recently, but he and his wife had since bought their own house. So it suited the older couple just fine that someone was living upstairs again, so that the house was not completely abandoned when they went on a trip.
Florian was particularly looking forward to this weekend because he would not be going to Stefanie's. She didn't have time for him because she had to study for an exam (unlike Florian, she was still enjoying student life). He would use the time to explore the city, which was still quite new to him, because he hadn't seen much of it yet. But before he could do that, he still had to go shopping. A glance at his watch told him that he had to hurry because the shops were about to close. With a contented sigh, he rose from his favorite armchair, put his shoes and jacket back on, put on his backpack, and left the apartment. Shortly thereafter, he was browsing the shelves of the supermarket, which was just around the corner. He was pushing his shopping cart towards the frozen pizza section (one of his staples) when he heard a voice behind him that was not unfamiliar, but not immediately recognizable either:
“Florian? Florian Schwerdt? Is that you?”
Florian turned around. Yes, he knew the face.
“Markus Meyers! What a surprise. What are you doing here?” Markus and Florian had been in the same class for years and had graduated together, but then their paths had gone separate.
“I've been living here for two years. And you?”
Florian told him about his new job that had brought him here. They chatted briefly about old times and mutual acquaintances until Markus asked:
“And what are you doing later today? Do you want to meet up for a beer later?”
Florian did, so they arranged to meet at a bar not far from his apartment at eight o'clock that evening. He finished his shopping and went home with his backpack full to bursting. Markus Meyers, I thought to myself, I never thought I'd see him again, Florian thought to himself on the way. He thought back to their school days, to the class trip in tenth grade, to the things that he and Markus had done back then that he had almost forgotten. After several bottles of beer, which they had secretly drunk back then (without their teacher noticing, of course), Markus had come to Florian under the covers, where they had quietly talked so as not to disturb the others. And they didn't just talk. At some point, one of them slid his hand between the other's legs, which the other returned after a brief hesitation. Florian no longer knew exactly which of the two had started, but he still knew that the situation was absolutely exciting (the others weren't allowed to notice) and extremely horny. After they had both cum, Markus had quietly disappeared back into his own bed. They never talked about this incident again, and nothing similar happened. On the contrary, after that night they avoided each other, both somehow embarrassed to have had the other's cock in their hand. And yet something of it remained with Florian, the whole time, something indefinable, a vague feeling, a hint of an idea, not much more than one could remember from the dream of the previous night. That certain point. After graduating from high school, their paths then diverged, which Florian did not feel was a particular loss, because it was not a friendship, like with Simon, that bound the two of them. Basically, they weren't connected by anything anymore, maybe just the memory of that evening. Nevertheless, Florian was looking forward to tonight with Markus. It would certainly be nice to talk about old times with him, in addition to the usual questions and what he was doing now. They would certainly not talk about the aforementioned evening in the youth hostel...
When he arrived home, Florian first took a bath in the big tub before stowing the groceries in the fridge. The answering machine was blinking. Stefanie, for sure, they hadn't talked to each other today. With little enthusiasm, he pressed the button to listen to the message:
“Hello darling, where are you?” he heard his girlfriend's voice. ‘Why don't you call me back when you get home?’ There was a sound that sounded like a kiss. ‘Yeah, later,’ Florian thought, ”first I'm taking a bath. I've been looking forward to that all day.” In all the time he had lived here, he had only used the bathtub properly twice. He went into the bathroom, undressed, and climbed into the sudsy water, very slowly, since it was quite hot. Finally, he was completely in it, up to his neck in the white, fragrant foam. He enjoyed the warmth and the scent that surrounded him and closed his eyes.
He thought of Markus Meyers. Would it be possible, theoretically, for something like that to happen again? Florian was frightened by this thought, especially because, as he sensed, it was more than a mere thought, more like a hidden wish that didn't yet dare to come to the surface. No, back then it was the usual games of pubescent boys, nothing more significant. If something like that had happened again today, it would have had a completely different connotation, one that Florian didn't like, there was that nasty word he didn't want to be associated with. No, it was completely absurd, after all, he had a girlfriend, and even if things weren't going so well between them, he was sure he was normal. But why on earth did he then catch himself thinking more and more often lately about repeating something like it was with Markus, with whomever? And for what? That was exactly the point. And wasn't it a strange coincidence, maybe even a twist of fate, that he had met him again here and now of all places?
Florian looked at his shriveled fingertips. It was time to leave the cozy warmth of the tub, especially since he was supposed to meet Markus in about an hour and had to call Stefanie before that. He pulled out the plug and stayed in the tub until the water had almost completely drained and only foam remained on the bottom of the tub and his hot, naked body. His gaze fell on his cock, which was uncovered by the draining bathwater. Semi-erect, he stretched out towards him. Florian was horny and suddenly felt like jerking off, which was done to his full satisfaction after just a few minutes. He didn't think about Stefanie...
After he had showered off the white juice, left the tub and got dressed again, he called Stefanie. She let him know that she missed him, which he returned with little inner conviction. He said that he would meet an old school friend today, she told him about her exam preparations.
“I have to go in a minute,” Florian tried to bring the conversation to an end, which he managed to do. Take care, see you tomorrow, I'll be in touch. A queasy feeling remained after Florian had hung up. He had to tell her, somehow, as soon as possible. But how? ‘I don't love you anymore, it's over?’ No, that was too harsh. How would she react? She still loved him. At least, he thought so. On the other hand, she must have sensed that there wasn't much coming from him anymore. They say women are so sensitive and can sense these things immediately. He simply didn't have enough experience with relationships, and even less with ending them. Maybe he should talk to Simon about it. But he would probably just ask him if he was still of this world, wanting to break up with a great woman like Stefanie. No, Simon probably wouldn't have been much help to him here either. Somehow he had to find an answer to this question on his own. Well, maybe not today, but as soon as possible...
Florian looked at his watch. He still had about half an hour before his appointment with Markus. If he wanted to be on time, and he did, he had to leave now. He put on his shoes and jacket and set off. The pub was within walking distance from here. In fact, almost everything in this city was within walking distance. Although autumn was already in the air, it was a fairly mild evening. Florian enjoyed the short walk through the park. In the light of a lantern, he met a middle-aged man who looked at him conspicuously. Why was he looking at him like that? Did he know him, perhaps a colleague he hadn't noticed before? It was possible, after all the short time Florian had been working at the company. Anyway, a few steps later Florian had already forgotten the man and his gaze. He left the park, which was separated from the rest of the city by a high hedge of rhododendron bushes. He walked along a street lined on both sides by beautiful old houses and tall trees, which Florian thought he recognized as lime trees from his amateur botanical knowledge. Although it was Saturday evening, there was not much traffic on the streets. According to Markus' directions, the bar where they were meeting should be on the next but one corner. Sure enough, three minutes later Florian was standing in front of the Sonderbar, as the neon sign above the open door announced. Music was coming from outside, eighties, not unpleasant at all. Markus had said that the bar was quite nice, and it made the same impression on Florian. As he could see through the windows, there weren't many people yet. A few people, whose average age he estimated to be between twenty and thirty, were sitting at the bar and at the tables. Was Markus there yet? Florian looked at his watch again. He was almost ten minutes early and had probably planned the route from his apartment a little generously. He went inside and looked around. He couldn't see Markus, but he was sure to arrive soon. Florian walked through the bar and sat down at one of the free tables at the back, so that he could see the entrance. He let his gaze wander around the Sonderbar. The interior design had a slightly alternative touch, like a typical student bar, and the clientele was rather mixed. On the wall was a blackboard on which small dishes were offered at surprisingly low prices in chalk.
“What can I get you?” Asked the waitress, a young woman around Florian's age, smiling at him. Florian smiled back and ordered a large beer. Nice, he thought, and watched her as she walked to the bar, but then immediately called himself to order. After all, he had a girlfriend, and you don't look at other girls and think they're nice. He still had a girlfriend, but she was now at a safe distance, and looking was allowed, wasn't it... Yes, he was beginning to like the pub.
Shortly afterwards, Markus came in. He stopped and looked around, like Florian had done shortly before. He immediately saw Florian and came up to him smiling.
“Have you been waiting long?”
“No, I just got here too. Nice place, good tip!” Florian praised the place of their encounter. ”Do you come here often?”
“No, not often. I usually go to Café Fritz, which isn't far from here either,” answered Markus, who had meanwhile taken off his jacket, under which he was only wearing a T-shirt, and sat down diagonally next to Florian, so that they were now sitting at the small, dark wooden table, in which over time many people had immortalized themselves with carved letters, numbers and signs. The coarse material of the table, in keeping with the overall ambience of the bar, practically invited you to scratch all over it, for example, “Marc was here, 7/23/1999” or even more original messages... On the table, as on all the tables here, stood an old wine bottle that had been spared the fate of the bottle bank and owed its survival to the fact that it was used as a candle holder. The predecessors of the currently burning, and already half-burnt candle had wrapped the bottle in a thick wax armor with colorful, solidified threads.
Florian's gaze fell, as if controlled by an external force, on Markus's heavily hairy forearms, whereas he himself had only a delicate, almost boyish down. It irritated him for a second that his attention was focused on these arms. The nice waitress brought Florian his beer and interrupted his rambling observations of male attributes.
“I'd like one of those too,” Markus placed his order. After a few seconds of embarrassed silence, the conversation got going. They talked about the time after school, their studies, their jobs. Markus had dropped out of university and was now working as a temp and typist in a law firm, he said.
“Oh yes,” Florian replied, refraining from asking whether what was enough for him, Markus, was something Florian, at least for himself, could not imagine. ‘But what brings you here, of all places, to this city?”
“Love,’ Markus replied, slightly embarrassed.
“That's certainly a good argument,” Florian remarked appreciatively, although he briefly felt a twinge of conscience; after all, love, or whatever it was that still connected him to Stefanie, couldn't have stopped him from at least leaving her for the sake of the job. ”And what's her name, are you two married already?”
“Frank. His name is Frank.“ Markus fumbled around the wax drops on the wine bottle, embarrassed.
“Excuse me?” Florian replied, completely surprised. “Does that mean you're... so you're into...”
“Yes, I'm gay,” Markus interrupted him, pronouncing this terrible word that had been buzzing around in Florian's head so often and so unwelcome lately, like an annoying fly that you shoo away with a quick hand movement but keeps coming back until you finally swat it, if you can get a grip on it. ”Didn't you know that? I thought that had been the talk at school long ago.”
“No, I didn't know that...” Florian replied quietly, and he felt his face turning red. Immediately he had to think again of the evening in question on their school trip. If he had known back then that Markus was gay (Florian found it hard even to say the word in his mind), would he have let him into his bed at all? Was it more than just late adolescent fumbling, at least for Markus?
“Are you shocked now?” Markus asked.
That was indeed a very good question. Florian didn't know what he was now. Shocked? No, at most surprised. Disgusted, as many others might have been in this situation? No, surprisingly not at all. Curious. Yes, that was it. The evening promised to be much more interesting and possibly more revealing for him than he had initially hoped for.
“No, not that, I just hadn't expected it. After all, it's not every day that someone tells you that they're... that they're into guys.”
“You can say gay, it's not an insult,” Markus replied with a smile.
“And how long have you known that you're... gay?” For the first time, he had used this terrible word without using it as a swearword. He felt hot and thought he must be bright red. Was there no better word for it?
“Actually, always. I've always found boys more interesting than girls.”
“Have you ever slept with a woman?“ Florian asked.
“No, never, and I can't imagine I would.” Markus' face took on an almost disgusted expression, as if he had been asked if he had ever fucked a goat.
“But how do you know you like guys if you have no comparison?”
“And how do you know that you like women if you've never been with a guy? I assume you have a girlfriend,” Markus replied pointedly.
Bull's eye, thought Florian, to which he had little to counter. But why did Markus claim that he, Florian, had never tried it with a boy? Had he already forgotten that evening in the youth hostel? Should he bring it up? Yes, why not?
“Yes, I have a girlfriend. And I have done something with a boy before, you should actually remember that. Or was I that bad?” he grinned at Markus and was amazed that it came so easily, even cheekily, from his lips.
“Oh, you mean that bit of wanking back then on the school trip? Yes, that was really hot, you've got real talent!” Now Markus grinned, and Florian blushed again. ‘But let's be honest,’ Markus continued, ‘that wasn't sex, almost everyone does that at that age. Nevertheless, they later call ours a gay pig and maybe even beat us up because of it.’ Now he wasn't grinning anymore.
“Have you ever experienced that?” Florian wanted to know. Suddenly he wanted to know everything about the subject, and this evening and weekend probably wouldn't be enough for all the questions he suddenly had.
“No, not me. But a good friend of mine. They attacked him in the park at night and beat him up so badly he had to go to hospital.”
“What's he doing in the park at night anyway? You have to expect that, whether you're gay or not.” There it was again, that word, this time he could pronounce it without faltering or blushing. Maybe he had to practice it first, in front of the mirror at night: gay, gay, gay...
“It wasn't just any park, it was our park. And they didn't rob him either, they just beat him up, just like that.”
“What do you mean, our park?”
“Oh dear, you need an introductory course to the gay world, don't you? I mean the small park on Beethovenallee, where people meet at night to have some fun together.”
Park on Beethovenallee? That was the park near Florian's apartment, which he had such a beautiful view of from his favorite armchair and which he had passed through on his way here tonight.
“You mean people meet there at night to...?” Florian asked incredulously.
“Yes, of course, what do you think happens there on warm summer nights? And all for free, that is, without paying, I mean. If there was something like that for straights, you probably wouldn't be able to get a leg on the ground there.”
“Straights? Oh, you mean...”
“…people like you and others, or normal, as you would probably call yourselves.“ Markus' voice became slightly aggressive.
“What is normal...” Florian tried to appease him. Now he also remembered the man who had looked at him so strangely in the park on his way here. “And where is your boyfriend tonight?” he changed the subject.
“Which boyfriend?” Markus asked.
“Well, you said earlier that you came here because of your great love...”
“Oh, you mean Frank. Ha, so much for great love. As soon as I moved here, he met someone else and dumped me. That's how they are, the guys...”
“Oh, I'm sorry.”
“Oh, don't be sorry. The guy was an asshole, and it's good that I realized that so quickly. – And your love, where is that?”
Florian talked about Stefanie, whom he only saw on weekends, if at all. He didn't talk about his doubts about his feelings for her. Not yet. First, he wanted to understand for himself what was left.
They hardly noticed how time passed. Florian was constantly coming up with new questions, which he eagerly asked Markus, who was happy to answer. A few hours and even more beers later, the tiredness of the ending work week slowly made itself felt.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?“ Markus asked.
“Nah, I think it's about time for me to go,” Florian yawned.
“Now already, and alone?“ Markus grinned at him.
“Why, do you want to come with me?” Florian asked without any seriousness in his question.
“Well, if that's an offer, I'll gladly accept it!” Markus responded, with seemingly just as little seriousness.
“Better not, you don't want to seduce an innocent hetero, do you?”
“Are you one?”
“What, innocent or straight?”
“Both.”
“Of course, straight and completely innocent.”
“What a shame, how boring! If you change your mind, let me know, okay?” Markus said with a broad grin.
“You'll be the first to know, I promise!“ replied Florian, grinning just as broadly. He was beginning to enjoy this game, the vague background of which he didn't yet fully understand.
“Let's stay in touch, go for a drink again soon?” Markus asked, now without a grin.
Of course they would, and they exchanged phone numbers. Then they paid the nice one and left the bar.
“I have to go that way,” said Florian, pointing in his direction. ”What are you doing now?”
“I'm going back to Café Fritz for a moment.”
“What's there?”
“We'll see, maybe I'll meet someone nice there for the night.”
“Oh, it's one of those places...“ Florian realized.
“You can come with me sometime. Just for the sake of interest, of course,” Markus grinned.
“Yeah maybe, we'll see sometime.” They shook hands in farewell, then went their separate ways, each in his own direction. Florian now felt the alcohol he had consumed during the course of the evening. Added to that was the night air, which had become significantly cooler. He buttoned his denim jacket, turned up the collar and put his hands in his pockets. With his shoulders hunched and his neck drawn in, he set off, breathing out clouds of white vapor.
*
On the way, Florian thought about the evening. So Markus was actually gay. And something about it worried him, something that Florian realized more and more clearly had nothing to do with Markus, but much more with himself. I'm an innocent hetero, or what had Markus called it, a straight guy, Florian thought. Yes, innocent in any case, which was again a matter of definition, and Florian found that he had not done anything wrong so far. But straight, really, completely, without ifs and buts? Wasn't Markus right in the end, couldn't you really answer that until you had tried both? After all, it was pretty cool back then on the school trip, even if it wasn't real sex in Markus' eyes. How awesome would real sex with a guy be? When he thought about sex with Stefanie... he always felt it was more of a duty: you did it with each other because that's what it's supposed to be like for a couple and because everyone, including yourself, expects it from you; but he had never experienced the real passion , ecstasy or whatever was supposed to be associated with sex, he had never experienced it, on the contrary, sometimes he was glad if he could get one up at all and then cuddle a little after the deed was done and then fall asleep. Yes, basically he didn't find it much hornier than just jerking off. Even the first time he slept with Stefanie (a stupid word, because they hadn't really slept at that moment!), he couldn't understand why the world was making such a fuss about it. There must have been something he hadn't yet learned. But what? Was Stefanie perhaps not the right person in this respect, should he try it with other women? No, absolutely not, at least not as long as he was with her, because he would have felt extremely bad and probably wouldn't have gotten it up at all. But wouldn't it be – just theoretically – something completely different if he tried it with a guy, just to see what it was like? Would that have been cheating on Stefanie too? Good question...
While these thoughts were going through Florian's mind, he approached the rhododendron bushes behind which the park, our park, as Markus called it, slept in the dark, illuminated only by a few lanterns. Florian had two options for getting home: either through the park, which he would normally have avoided at this time of night, or around it, which wouldn't have been much further. His courage, bolstered by alcohol, and curiosity about possibly seeing something there that he couldn't quite imagine yet, made him take the route through the park. After a few steps, he had left the light of the street behind him, and darkness surrounded him. It was estimated that the next lantern was about a hundred meters away. Now it was getting a bit scary for him. Should he turn around and take the outside route after all? No, now that he was here, what could possibly happen? Nevertheless, he unconsciously walked a few steps faster. Shortly after the lantern, which stood at a fork in the road and around which a large number of insects were cavorting, he approached a park bench on which, as he could see from afar, someone was sitting and smoking. Florian found it unusual to sit and smoke on a lonely park bench at this temperature and well after midnight. But presumably this was one of the people Markus had told him about and whom Florian had hoped to see now, as far as one could see at all in this poor light. Florian slowed his pace and walked past the bench in a deliberately casual manner, watching the seated figure out of the corner of his eye. The man watched Florian just as casually, and their eyes met briefly despite the darkness. Florian continued on and stopped at the next corner behind a bush, from where he could watch the bench and the man still sitting on it, without the man seeing him. Another man emerged from the darkness and also sat down on the bench, without speaking to the first man, as far as Florian could tell from a distance. The newcomer also lit a cigarette. After a few minutes, the first man disappeared into the bushes behind the bench, followed shortly afterwards by the second. Now both had vanished from Florian's field of vision, and the fact that these two strangers to him (and perhaps to each other) were now presumably making love in the bushes made Florian feel a strong sense of unease , which made it impossible for him to just go home and go to bed as if nothing had happened. Instead, he felt compelled to go back and see what was going on in the bushes. After a short inner struggle, the outcome of which was decided not least by his beer-strengthened courage, he went back to the bench, left the park path and crept towards the bushes that had swallowed the two guys a moment ago. What am I doing here, thought Florian, but he gathered up all his courage again and went further to the edge of the bushes, where he spotted a narrow aisle in the darkness. Should I really...? Come on, keep going!, he ordered himself. He slipped through the aisle and saw – nothing at first. A slight panic rose in him, which under normal circumstances would have prompted him to immediately disappear, back home, into the warm bed. But a mixture of curiosity, inexplicable courage and something he couldn't explain to himself forced him to stay here. After a few seconds, his eyes had adjusted to the new light conditions and he could at least guess what was going on here. Not far from him, maybe three meters away, he made out two men, who were probably the two bench-sitters from before, but he wasn't sure, but that didn't matter now. One of them was standing upright, the other was kneeling in front of him, and despite the darkness Florian had no difficulty in seeing what the two were doing to each other. He remained motionless and watched them as best he could. He felt something stir in his pants at the sight. He would have loved to get his dick out to satisfy himself right there and then... but no, he really didn't dare to do that. Suddenly Florian was startled when he spotted another guy not far from the two, and thus not far from him, leaning against a tree, rubbing his pants and looking over to him invitingly, as far as Florian could tell. Florian felt frozen. What should he do now? Run away? Get involved, go to the guy and see what he would do to him? Unable to make a decision and unable to move, Florian stared back, alternately at the face of the man rubbing himself and at the rubbed area of his trousers. Florian got a full-blown erection within a few seconds. The stared-at guy came towards Florian. He stopped about a meter away from him, opened his trousers and looked at Florian invitingly. Florian couldn't help but look at the huge cock that was presented to him. His heart was pounding noticeably, and blood was pulsing in his trousers as well. Should he take his out now too? Surely the other guy expected him to. He took another step so that he was now standing right next to Florian, while he worked his exposed cock with his right hand. His left hand didn't stay idle either and wandered over to Florian. It stroked his ass briefly, then moved around and began to knead his bulging front trousers. Florian closed his eyes. Stop it at once, he thought. Go on, whispered another voice inaudibly. The stranger stood in front of Florian, his cock pointed directly at him like a cannon waiting for the command “fire at will”, and began to unbutton Florian's denim jacket. Then he went for Florian's trouser belt.
That was too much. Florian left the bushes as quickly as he could and ran home as if driven by panic. While he was buttoning up his jacket again, he turned around to make sure that none of these faggots was following him and might possibly notice where he lived. Shortly thereafter, he stood in front of the front door, turned around again, unlocked it and went as quietly as possible (as if his landlords, if they were even at home, should not notice that he was coming directly from the park) up the stairs to his apartment. He was tipsy and confused about what had driven him to follow the men into the bushes and about the subsequent encounter with the strange giant cock, but shortly afterwards he was lying in his bed and fell asleep immediately.
The next morning Florian woke up at the usual time, shortly after seven. Normally, since it was Saturday and he didn't have to get up, he would have rolled over and slept on with relish. Sometimes he even deliberately forgot to turn off the alarm clock Friday night before going to sleep, just to be able to experience the pleasure of sleeping on Saturday morning at seven. But today he didn't need an alarm clock, he was wide awake, more awake than usual during the week when, unlike today, he had to get up. It was an upside-down world. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get another round of sleep. On the one hand, his head was pounding a bit (the last few beers yesterday probably weren't strictly necessary), and on the other hand, so many diffuse thoughts were buzzing through his head, thoughts of the evening with Markus and the way back through the park. After an hour of tossing and turning in bed, he got up; there was something good about not spending your day off in bed until noon. On his way to the bathroom, he looked out the window and saw that it was raining. Great, so much for “exploring the city”.
He felt better after the shower; shortly afterwards, he was listlessly spooning his cornflakes and wondering what he could do on this cool and rainy autumn day. Maybe just read a book in his favorite armchair? Yes, that was a good option: some music, the drumming of raindrops blown against the window by the wind, and a book. He quickly washed the breakfast dishes (in this respect, he was a very tidy person, he hated it when such things were left around for a long time) and went to the bookshelf in the living room. His eye fell on The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, which he had started to read a long time ago but never finished due to lack of time. Yes, that would be just the right thing for today. He took the book, sat down in an armchair without opening it, and looked out the window at the rainy garden of his landlords. They apparently spent a lot of time tending to it, because it looked like a model from Better Homes and Gardens or similar magazines. However, it didn't look like the work of a pedantic weeder at all, but rather presented a coherent picture. The almost oval lawn was surrounded by flowerbeds in which the bushes and shrubs competed to see which could shine the brightest in autumnal colors, at least when the sun was shining. In one corner of the garden was a small pond, which today took on the gray raindrops falling into it. Next to it was a kind of terrace with an old brick floor. On it stood a wooden garden table, next to it two well-worn metal folding chairs with seats and backrests made of wooden slats, similar to those found in Bavarian beer gardens. On one of these chairs stood a clay flowerpot with autumn asters, the bright violet of which formed an appealing contrast to the rest of the yellow-red-brown that otherwise dominated the garden and to the dull, flaking, formerly apparently light blue color of the chair on which the pot was standing. The other corner of the garden, opposite the pond, was dominated by the bright red leaves of a vinegar tree. The center of the garden was formed by a large maple tree in the middle of the lawn, whose large leaves glowed golden yellow despite the gloomy weather, thereby spreading an optimism that seemed out of place with the weather and the general mood of that day.
The park was separated from the garden by a high hedge and an iron fence. It was innocently lying there in its incipient autumnal colors, as if nothing had happened. Actually, nothing had, right? Florian opened the book. There was no point in looking for the place where he had last come to; it had been too long ago. So he started from the beginning. Now, The Name of the Rose is certainly anything but light fare, but that wasn't the only reason why Florian didn't really enjoy reading it. He simply couldn't concentrate on what he was reading, his thoughts kept wandering, and his gaze fell towards the park. He thought of bushes, and he felt that this thought left him anything but cold. And again these doubts arose in him, which brought him into connection with this terrible word, which he - in contrast to Markus - did not want to pronounce. No, damn it, he thought, I'm not... I'm straight, a hetero, as Markus put it, I have a girlfriend, and that's fine.
And suddenly, as he hadn't in a long time, he missed Stefanie, her face, her voice, her scent. And her body. And on the spur of the moment, he decided to go to her place. She would surely be happy to see him, even if she didn't have much time for him. But she also needed a little variety from studying, and he would give it to her. For the first time in who knows how long, he was looking forward to seeing her. It was good that he had gotten up so early today, so he could be with her shortly after noon. He quickly packed a few things and got into his car. He didn't call her first to announce his arrival, why should he, he wanted to surprise her. A good two-hour drive, and they would be in each other's arms...
*
“Where did you come from?” asked Stephanie, completely surprised, but apparently not particularly pleased, when Florian stood in front of her apartment door with his gym bag and smiled at her expectantly.
“I just missed you...” he replied, hugging her and giving her a kiss, which she received passively with her arms hanging down, more like a stranger who felt the kiss was a nuisance. Florian, who had expected a more explicit reunion, realized that something was wrong: ”What's the matter, aren't you happy to see me?”
“Yes, I am... I wasn't expecting you.”
“Can I come in anyway?” Florian asked, still standing in the hallway.
“Oh, yes, of course... it's just... I have a visitor, we're... studying together.”
Florian entered the apartment expecting to find a small study group. Instead, he found only a rather narrow-chested boy, apparently just twenty years old, sitting on the sofa and looking at him nervously. The study group was obviously much smaller...
“This is Tobias, my... a fellow student of mine; Tobias, this is Florian, my friend,” Stefanie introduced the two, no less nervous.
“Hello...” the skinny guy mumbled, with a look that seemed to say, ‘Please don't hit me, I'm leaving,’ which Florian ignored.
What Florian saw in front of him did not exactly give the impression of exam preparation: Tobias was only wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and had neither socks nor shoes on. The reason for this clothing, which was not necessarily appropriate for the season, was easy to see, especially since no learning materials or similar papers were to be seen far and wide; instead, there was an open bottle of sparkling wine and two half-filled champagne glasses on the table, in which the bubbles rose like strings of pearls. Only now did Florian notice that Stefanie was also wearing nothing but jeans and a T-shirt, but he did discover some items of clothing scattered on and around the sofa. Apparently, he had just burst into the exercises of a very special, non-exam-related subject, and so suddenly that there hadn't even been time to reasonably clean up the traces.
“Oh, is that so...” Florian said quietly. He wondered how he should behave now. Should he make a classic scene, yell around, threaten this high school graduate with a beating and throw him out of the apartment in perfect form? Or should he leave in an offended manner? Damn, how do you behave in such a situation?