2025-07-10, 04:21 PM
Course North
Sören unlocks the front door and hangs his keys on the hook next to the door.
‘Hi, Mum! I'm home,’ he calls into the hallway. He hears dishes clattering in the kitchen and his mother says, ’I couldn't help but hear that.’
He takes off his jacket and shoes and goes into the kitchen.
‘Finally a holiday. Not seeing the shop for two weeks. Now Christmas can come,’ he says and kisses his mother on the cheek.
She looks at her son with a sad look from the side.
‘Christmas will probably come. But our holiday over the holidays will probably not happen this year.’
Sören looks like a car. ’Why? Did something happen?’
‘Well, it's not exactly happening, but Dr Schäfer is off sick for a long time, so Dad has to take over his shifts at the hospital.’
Sören's mother is originally from Denmark and for as long as he can remember, he has spent every Christmas and New Year's Eve with his parents in the small holiday home on the Danish North Sea coast that his mother inherited from her parents. This is not just a family tradition, Sören can't imagine it any other way or more beautifully.
‘Oh no! Tell me that's not true. We're ALWAYS up there at this time. I was really looking forward to it!’
‘Well, son, I'm really sorry. If you absolutely want to go up there, you'll have to go alone this year. But we'll go in January when Dr Schäfer is back. Let's just spend Christmas at home. It'll be nice for a change.’
‘Mum, as a trainee I only get holidays during the holidays. And these two weeks were already hard to get. We're really busy at work at the moment.’
‘Sören, I can't change it. Please don't be angry,’ says his mother, putting his lunch on the table.
He grudgingly stuffs the food into his mouth, looks rather sad, and then goes wordlessly to his room on the second floor. He really doesn't like the thought of spending two weeks at home doing nothing.
Sören boots his PC. Meanwhile, he throws himself on the bed and crosses his arms behind his head. ‘I – DON'T – WANT – TO – STAY – HERE,’ he says to himself and sinks into anger and self-pity. Then the whistling sound of his email program pulls him out of his thoughts. He goes over to the PC and finds, in addition to the usual spam, an email from his best friend, which he nervously opens.
RECEIVED 22 December 12:45 p.m.
FROM: tobi86@mailmail.de
TO: soeren.lange@GE-mail.de
RE: Something I have to tell you
Hi Sören,
I was really quite surprised by your email. I really didn't think you were gay. And I thought I knew you.
Please don't be angry with me, but I need a little time to deal with this.
I'll get back to you.
Ciao
Tobi
‘Oh no. He needs time. Great rebuff.’
Sören didn't have the heart to come out to Tobias in person and chose the electronic way. From the fact that it took Tobi three days to reply, he concludes that it was probably better that way. Tobi can't handle it. If he had told him to his face, it would have been even worse. The two have known each other since secondary school and have actually always been close. Since they both started their apprenticeships, they have only seen each other at the weekend, but they were still close friends. Well, Tobi has one flaw: he's straight. Big time.
Okay, Tobi has another flaw: he can't deal with the fact that his best friend is gay. Or is he now the former best friend?
Sören's mood has sunk below zero. Two pieces of bad news in the space of a few minutes are just too much. He throws himself on the bed and starts crying.
There's a knock on his door. ‘Yes?’ he calls, annoyed. His mother enters.
‘Hey, is that so bad, big guy?’ she says, seeing his reddened eyes.
Without saying a word, Sören points to the monitor, where Tobi's mail is still open. His parents have known about Sören's homosexuality for a year. There were no problems with the outing; they had already guessed as much themselves. They are also tolerant and open-minded. His mother reads the mail.
‘Give him time, it's not like you're breaking off their friendship. It would sound different. Maybe he's also disappointed that you haven't told him already.’
‘Maybe. We'll see. Mum, I think I really need to think about some things and have some time to myself. Why can't I just go to Denmark on my own?’
‘All alone? That long way? You'll be bored to death up there.’
‘Maybe, but the walls are closing in on me here. And apart from Tobi, no one wants to have anything to do with me anyway. And not him either.’
‘Oh, you. You just have to get out more and not always just curl up in a ball. You look great, you're one of the nicest people I know and if you weren't already my son, I'd adopt you on the spot,’ beams his mother.
Sören can't help grinning. ‘Mum! This isn't acting school! Where did you get that line from?’
The two laugh at each other and briefly embrace.
‘Hey, I was serious about Denmark. I'd hate to spend my holiday at home!’
‘Well, you're old enough. It would be a shame to spend Christmas and New Year without you, but I can understand you somehow. I'd love to sit by our fireplace again in a winter storm and drink a grog.’
‘We can make up for Christmas when I get back,’ beams Sören. The decision has been made. He's going.
Just an hour later, Sören is closing the tailgate of his Golf. His mother had already done the shopping for the holiday and now she has simply packed the boxes of food and drinks into his car.
‘Mum! You want to fatten me up so that I never get a girlfriend and always live at home. Who on earth is going to eat all this?’
‘Don't argue, Junior! Otherwise the neighbours will find a starving Sören and I'll go to jail for starving him. No way. And besides...’
His mother holds out some Danish banknotes and two fifty-euro notes.
‘...for petrol. And for food, in case that's not enough,’ she grins at him.
Sören gives her a kind of puppy-dog look: ‘Thank you. You didn't have to do that, I've got my own money, after all.’
‘Yes, I know. You've arrived. Now drive off, it's supposed to snow tonight. And call as soon as you've arrived. Have you got the keys?’
‘Yes, mum, I've got them.’ “Keys, money, clean underwear and more than enough to eat.’
The two of them are saying goodbye when Sören's father's Mercedes comes up the driveway.
‘Stop! Stay here! You can't leave... ” his father calls out, jumping out of the car.
Slightly irritated, Sören looks at him.
‘.. before you have properly said goodbye to your only father!’ his dad grins at him and rushes to Sören and ruffles his blonde hair.
Before he can object, his father stuffs banknotes into his shirt pocket and says to him in a low voice, ‘But don't tell mum,’ and grins at him.
‘Mum's not blind and I've already given him some money too,’ says his mother in the background, trying to make an indignant expression on her face.
‘Well, now drive off, but tonight...‘ his father begins...
‘it's supposed to snow,’ call out mother and son in unison.
Sören sets off just in time for the 2 p.m. news on Einslive.
His mother waves after him and calls out, ‘Give my regards to the folks back home.’
He has seven hundred kilometres ahead of him and estimates that he will arrive at the holiday home around 9 p.m. This is the first really long trip he has made alone since he got his driving licence. Since his father is a senior physician at a hospital in Gelsenkirchen and his mother also earns a good living from translations, he got both his driving licence and a used Golf last year for his eighteenth birthday. Resistance was of course futile and not what he had in mind.
Shortly before a holiday, the roads in the Ruhr area are always quite busy, but traffic still flows. After three quarters of an hour, he is near Münster and turns onto the A1 heading north.
After a while, he decides to stop at the next rest area. He pulls into the ‘Tecklenburger Land’ rest area and parks his car.
After using the toilet, he goes back to his car, lighting a cigarette as he does so. Sören doesn't really smoke much, but sacrificing a bit of money for the state treasury now and then is okay. On his way, he notices a boy, maybe a little younger than himself, sitting on a large travel bag against the wall of the service station, looking rather sad.
Sören keeps his distance and smokes his cigarette in peace. He wonders why the boy is so sad and sitting here alone on the motorway service area. He thinks to himself that he has probably run away from home. In any case, he somehow doesn't look like he's done anything wrong. He has short black hair, is slim and seems to be about the same height as himself. Sören plucks up his courage and speaks to him:
‘Hi... I'm Sören. Are you hitchhiking?’
The boy looks up slowly and just nods timidly.
‘Where do you want to go? Do you want a lift?’
‘Anywhere's fine. As long as it's far away,’ he says with a sad voice. Sören sees that he has red eyes. He must have been crying.
‘I'm going to Denmark, via Bremen, Hamburg, Flensburg. Is there anything for you?’
‘Sure, I'll take it all,‘ the boy replies, and a hint of a smile crosses his face.
‘Well then, off to the north,’ says Sören, holding out his hand to the boy.
He grabs his hand and gets up, takes his bag and goes with Sören to the car.
‘What's your name, by the way?’
‘I'm Dominik. And thank you for giving me a lift. Up to now, people only ever approached me when I had to fear for my life.’
‘Oh, gladly. I don't like driving alone, and if I have a nice companion, I also get something out of it.’
After he had driven off again, Sören asked:
‘Have you run away from home? Or why are you wandering around on the motorway alone just before Christmas?’
‘Hm. Well, yes and no. I'll be 18 tomorrow and my parents would have kicked me out tomorrow anyway. So I beat them to it by a day.’
‘Kicked out? Why is that? Have you done something?’
‘No, I haven't done anything. But in their eyes, I'm probably quite a failure. But that's a long story and I don't even know you.’
‘Well, we have plenty of time for long stories. But I don't want to be too nosy. If you want to tell them sometime, I'll be happy to listen.’
Dominik quickly changes the subject and starts asking Sören a few questions: where he comes from, what he does and why he is walking along the motorway alone. Dominik is from Dortmund and goes to high school. The conversation is entertaining and before they know it, they are already in the Elbtunnel.
‘So, where do you want to go now? Do you have a place to stay or a destination?’
‘Neither. Wherever the wind takes me.’
Sören thinks to himself that blowing would be a really good idea, but immediately discards this indecent thought because the weather has taken a turn for the worse as he drives out of the Elbe Tunnel. Thick snowflakes drift in the headlights. The motorway is still reasonably clear, but that could change soon.
‘Nicki, I'll make you a suggestion: you're welcome to come with me to Denmark, the house is big enough, you'll have a place to stay for the next while, and I won't be so bored up there.’
Dominik looks at Sören with wide eyes. ‘Did you just call me Nicki?’
‘Yes, sorry, am I not allowed to?’
‘Yes, yes... it's just that my mother used to call me that before...’ he breaks off the sentence.
Sören realises that he mustn't press the matter any further. ’Well, what do you think, it's a great offer, isn't it?’
‘Yes, it is, but I can't accept it. We don't know each other at all and I have no money and anyway...’
‘Money is not a problem, the house is free, my mum has packed me enough food for a football team and you're not going to be a bother. We can still get to know each other. And if you want to leave, I'll take you back to the border. That's a promise.’
‘Look out! Up ahead!’ Dominik calls, but it's almost too late. A car in front of them has spun out in the slush on the right-hand lane. Sören slams on the brakes and tries to get past the car on the left. Fortunately, the left-hand lane is suddenly free and he makes it.
‘Phew! That was a close call! If I ever meet the inventor of ABS and ESP, I'll buy him a drink!’
After the near-crash, there is a tense calm in the car. Sören concentrates on the road, the slush is getting thicker and thicker and slowly he wonders whether he should dare to drive to the holiday home at all today. Besides, the unanswered question hangs in the air.
‘Sören, you're really nice. And I really don't know where to go at the moment. So if your offer still stands...’
‘Of course it still stands. I'd be happy.’
Sören wonders whether he should maybe tell Dominik that he's gay. But after his experience with Tobi, he'd rather not for the time being. When they get to know each other better, he can always come clean then.
It is 7 p.m. near Schleswig and the slush is getting thicker and thicker. He wonders why there are no winter services here. Sören leaves the motorway at the Schleswig service station to refuel. He also has a little something to buy. He has just paid when his mobile phone rings.
‘Sören Lange.’
‘Lange here, too. Your loving parents are watching the news and have realised that it was a stupid idea to drive today. Have you been snowed in yet?’
‘I'm in Schleswig. No, everything's okay, the motorway is still quite good to drive on. It's not that far now anyway. I'll probably be there in three hours,’ he lies, without blushing. You don't have to tell your parents everything. Especially not something that would make them worry.
Back in the car, Dominik grins at him and says:
‘You know, I feel really comfortable with you. All that crap with my parents is a bit further away.’
‘Hey, that's great. Look, we'll have a great time up there. The house is in a really great location, in the middle of the dunes.’
Sören is torn. On the one hand, he is very worried about the further car journey, on the other hand, this boy fascinates him tremendously. His regained smile goes straight to his heart. Slowly, it starts to tingle.
The motorway is now covered by a solid layer of snow, and Sören is driving carefully along the lane at 80 km/h. Fortunately, his dad had bought winter tyres, although you hardly ever need them in Gelsenkirchen.
At the border, Sören presses a button on his radio to change the CD. The Danish national anthem ‘Der er et yndigt land’ plays from the speakers.
‘Sorry, but you'll have to sit through this. It's a family tradition at the border. You should know that my mum is Danish.’
Dominik grins and says:
‘You're crazy. But cute.’
He seems to regret what he has said as soon as he has said it. He touches his mouth and says:
‘Well, I mean nice.’
Sören's head is spinning. It all fits together. The saying just now, being thrown out at his parents. Sören is sure: Dominik is gay too.
And what's more, Sören is on the verge of falling in love.
He says quietly, ‘But not as sweet as you.’
Dominik seems just as irritated by the comment. He stares ahead at the road and says nothing.
After a while, Sören cautiously looks at the passenger seat. Dominik seems to have fallen asleep. At least he has his eyes closed and his head leaning against the headrest.
The rest of the journey becomes increasingly difficult. The snow on the road is already quite deep and Sören can only drive about 50 km/h. On the other hand, there are almost no cars on the road. So there are no more critical driving situations before they reach the holiday home. Ten minutes before midnight, he steers the car unerringly onto the property of the holiday home.
‘Hey Nicki, we're finally here. Wake up!’
The two get out and trudge through the ten centimetres of snow to the front door. Sören unlocks it and turns on the light and the fireplace. His parents always prepare the fireplace so that it can be lit immediately when someone comes to the house in winter. The wooden house consists of a large main room that includes a living room corner with a fireplace, a dining area and a kitchenette. The two bedrooms and the bathroom open off this.
Dominik has to go to the toilet. Sören uses the time to prepare everything for midnight, because Nicki's birthday is in a few minutes. He bought a YES cake at the petrol station in Schleswig and a small candle, which he lights on it. In the pantry, he finds a bottle of sparkling wine, which is at room temperature, but since it is currently only about 5 degrees, it's fine. He opens the sparkling wine, lights a few candles in the living room, turns off the electric light, pours the glasses, and keeps a watchful eye on the clock and the bathroom door. It is a few seconds before midnight.
The bathroom door opens and Sören sees shining children's eyes, a radiant smile and honest enthusiasm.
‘That's... that's not possible.’
It's exactly midnight. Sören gives him a glass of sparkling wine and clinks glasses with him.
‘Happy 18th birthday. From today on, everything will be better!’
‘Thanks. I don't even know what to say.’
‘Just say cheers.’
The two of them toast each other and clink glasses again. After that, Sören hugs him and holds him close. Nicki returns the embrace and sobs.
‘This is the best birthday present I've had in a long time. Thanks.’
‘Don't mention it. Before we finish the bottle, we should empty the car. Besides, I still have to call my parents.’
‘You call, I'll get started.’
Sören dials his parents' number, and they answer immediately.
‘Birte Lange’
‘Mum. I'm here. Everything's okay here.’
‘Well, thank God! That took you long enough! How long were you on the road?’
‘About ten hours. It took me three hours longer than normal. I'm pretty exhausted now and I'll probably go to bed soon.’
‘Yes, do that, we can talk again tomorrow night. Sleep well.’
‘You too. Night.’
Just as Sören puts his phone down on the kitchen counter, Dominik comes in through the door, heavily laden. His black hair is covered in thick snowflakes.
‘Hey, you're barely 18 and you're already getting white hair,’ Sören chuckles.
He shows his white teeth and laughter lines form around his eyes. After a few minutes, the two of them have emptied the car and stowed the groceries in the kitchen. The room temperature slowly rises to a comfortable level and they take off their shoes and jackets. For the first time, he sees his hitchhiker without his thick winter jacket. He is wearing a light sweatshirt and jeans and seems to be a little too thin rather than too fat.
‘Wait, there must be slippers around here somewhere. We don't want you to catch a cold, little man.’
Sören rummages in a cupboard under the coat rack and finds what he is looking for.
‘Is it a size 44?’
‘Yeah, I'm a 43-44. It should fit.’
Sören rearranges the living room a little so that the sofa is directly in front of the fireplace. The two sit down next to each other and start on the bottle of sparkling wine again. The whole room is lit only by candles and the firelight. Except for the crackling and the soft hissing of the fire, it is completely silent.
‘This is really beautiful here. I feel really comfortable. You're a real lucky find,’ says Dominik, smiling gently.
‘Just wait until tomorrow, when you can see what it looks like outside. The house is right in the dunes and it's only a few metres to the North Sea.’
‘I didn't even mean the house. The way you've made it cosy here. Thank you, even if it's only for a short stay.’
‘Well, don't worry about the future. I'm sure we'll find a decent solution for you together. You won't get rid of me that easily now.’
Dominik smiles, remains silent and yawns heart-wrenchingly. Sören is infected by the yawning.
‘I think we should go to bed slowly. It's been a hard day.’
Nicki just grumbles in agreement.
‘Well, the house has two bedrooms, each with a double bed. The beds are both freshly made. You can choose. One of the rooms for you alone or we share one. Whatever you want.’
Sören looks at him questioningly. Secretly, of course, he hopes to be allowed to sleep in one bed with the sweetheart. You can see the wheels turning in Nicki's head.
‘Well, it's all the same to me. I don't want to bother you, so...’
‘You won't,’ Sören interrupts him.
‘Okay, so if it's all the same to you. Staying alone might not be so good at the moment.’
‘No problem. Come on, we'll take the bigger room. Right here.’
Sören turns on the light in the bedroom and gets a little shock. He had forgotten to turn up the thermostat on the electric heater. The temperature in the room is 5 degrees.
The two of them put their duffle bags in front of the wardrobe and take out their sleeping and washing things. Sören goes into the bathroom first and turns the underfloor heating up to 20 degrees. At least it should be warm here tomorrow morning. He brushes his teeth.
‘Man, Sören Lange, you're an idiot,’ he says to himself. Of course the water is ice cold, because the boiler is only on frost protection. So he has to make do with a cold water cat-shower.
Back in the bedroom, Dominik had already changed into a T-shirt and boxer shorts. You can tell from his goose bumps on his slightly hairy legs that he is freezing.
‘But now quickly into the bathroom and then into bed, you're freezing.’
‘Yes, I'll hurry.’
Sören also changes into his night clothes and takes the window side of the double bed. After a short time, Nicki comes into the bedroom and climbs wordlessly onto the other side of the bed.
‘Hey Nicki. If you're cold, you're welcome to come closer. I'll gladly share some of my warmth with you.’
Since there is no answer from the other side of the bed, Sören is annoyed that he said it. He hopes he hasn't ruined anything.
After a minute of tense silence, Dominik finally replies:
‘Thanks for the offer. But I don't think that would be a good idea. Good night.’
‘Night,’ Sören says, and decides to leave it at that. After a short time, he hears Dominik's regular breathing, and seems to have fallen asleep. Sören still has the events of the day going through his mind before he finally falls asleep as well.
Sören opens his eyes. Dominik's face is right in front of his. Both have turned towards each other in their sleep and are quite close. He looks at his companion very closely. His black hair is all messed up, his eyes are closed, he has thick eyebrows, a straight, slender nose, a sensual mouth, and a very light beard. ‘A handsome lad,’ he thinks to himself. It warms his heart. He would love to give him a kiss on the forehead, but he suppresses this impulse.
He quietly creeps out of bed, with his back to the bed, so that Dominik, if he wakes up, does not see his morning wood. He quietly rummages through his bag for a fresh jumper, underwear and socks and leaves the bedroom without making a sound. Before he goes into the bathroom, he lights the fireplace again so that it is nice and warm straight away. The invention of electricity overnight has transformed the bathroom from an ice hell into a bathing paradise. He turns on the shower and after a few moments, wonderfully hot water comes out of the shower head. Sören undresses and gets into the shower. He enjoys the warmth and just stands there for a few minutes. Little Sören does the same. He doesn't seem to want to calm down this morning. But somehow he doesn't feel like masturbating. He has too many thoughts going through his mind. He is definitely in love with Dominik and is afraid that it is only one-sided. He can't really interpret his signals. He can say it either way. He is no longer sure whether Nicki is really gay or whether there is something completely different behind this strange story.
After showering, he stands in front of the mirror and can't see himself at first because it's steamed up. He wipes the mirror with a towel and thinks of his mother, how she would scold him... ‘Now I have to clean it. Couldn't you have waited two minutes?’... and grins. Sören looks at himself. He is slim, but not particularly muscular, with a hairless upper body. Only between his navel and pubic area do some shimmering golden hairs run. He can be satisfied with himself. ‘Nothing special, but it works,’ he says quietly to himself. He brushes his teeth, gets dressed and puts some gel in his blonde hair.
He tidies up the living room a little, adds more wood to the fireplace, puts the used glasses in the dishwasher and puts the sofa back in its original place. Then he starts preparing breakfast. While the rolls are baking in the oven, he takes his cigarette case and goes out on the terrace in his jacket and slippers. It is partially covered and therefore still free of snow at the house. The property is located directly in the dunes, and so some dune grasses peek out from the closed, hilly blanket of snow. He lights a cigarette. He exhales thick clouds of smoke. The weather had calmed down overnight and the sky is now almost cloudless and blue. But it has frozen. The blanket of snow glistens in the early sunlight.
‘Good morning,’ he hears behind him and turns around. Standing in the open patio door is Nicki, wearing only a T-shirt and boxers. Sören can't help but grin at the sweet sight of the sleepy boy with the fluffy hair rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
‘Good morning, Nicki! I ordered extra sunshine for today.’
Nicki grins slightly and just grumbles in agreement. ‘I'll go take a shower.’
‘Do that. Towels are on the shelf next to the sink. Help yourself.’
Sören sets about finishing breakfast. He takes the rolls out of the oven, puts the coffee pot on the warmer and lights a candle. After a few minutes, Dominik comes out of the bathroom with only a towel tied around his loins. Sören has to swallow. He has to pull himself together so that he doesn't pounce on him, he likes what he sees so much. A slim upper body with a small triangle of scattered hair on his chest, the towel bulges a little at the crucial point. Enough to drive Sören's imagination to new heights. Dominik notices how Sören is staring at him and turns red.
‘Er, I'll just go and get dressed. I'll be right back.’
Sören stands there open-mouthed and can't say anything. He has just realised that his staring has been noticed. Now he is blushing too.
After a few minutes, the two of them are sitting at the dining table having breakfast. The awkward silence lasts quite a while.
‘What shall we do today? Fancy a little walk on the beach?‘ asks Sören.
‘Oh yes. Show me the North Sea. I've never been to the seaside. My parents are mountain fanatics.’
‘Nicki, I'll lay the North Sea at your feet,’ grins Sören.
Dominik tilts his head and grins at him.
After breakfast, the two of them wrap up warmly and set off. There is only a narrow trail through the dunes, which is not visible at all in the snow. So they trudge through the crunching snow cross-country until they reach the highest point. From here they can see the North Sea. Today it is calm and only splashes quietly on the snow-covered beach. Dominik is looking enthusiastic again. Both are standing next to each other. Sören says ‘Come on,’ grabs Nicki's hand and pulls him along. Both run down the embankment hand in hand through the snow and stop just before the surf. They laugh at each other and don't let go yet. Neither speaks a word. They look each other in the eye and become serious.
‘You know Nicki, I have to tell you something.’
‘Yes, me too.’
Sören unlocks the front door and hangs his keys on the hook next to the door.
‘Hi, Mum! I'm home,’ he calls into the hallway. He hears dishes clattering in the kitchen and his mother says, ’I couldn't help but hear that.’
He takes off his jacket and shoes and goes into the kitchen.
‘Finally a holiday. Not seeing the shop for two weeks. Now Christmas can come,’ he says and kisses his mother on the cheek.
She looks at her son with a sad look from the side.
‘Christmas will probably come. But our holiday over the holidays will probably not happen this year.’
Sören looks like a car. ’Why? Did something happen?’
‘Well, it's not exactly happening, but Dr Schäfer is off sick for a long time, so Dad has to take over his shifts at the hospital.’
Sören's mother is originally from Denmark and for as long as he can remember, he has spent every Christmas and New Year's Eve with his parents in the small holiday home on the Danish North Sea coast that his mother inherited from her parents. This is not just a family tradition, Sören can't imagine it any other way or more beautifully.
‘Oh no! Tell me that's not true. We're ALWAYS up there at this time. I was really looking forward to it!’
‘Well, son, I'm really sorry. If you absolutely want to go up there, you'll have to go alone this year. But we'll go in January when Dr Schäfer is back. Let's just spend Christmas at home. It'll be nice for a change.’
‘Mum, as a trainee I only get holidays during the holidays. And these two weeks were already hard to get. We're really busy at work at the moment.’
‘Sören, I can't change it. Please don't be angry,’ says his mother, putting his lunch on the table.
He grudgingly stuffs the food into his mouth, looks rather sad, and then goes wordlessly to his room on the second floor. He really doesn't like the thought of spending two weeks at home doing nothing.
Sören boots his PC. Meanwhile, he throws himself on the bed and crosses his arms behind his head. ‘I – DON'T – WANT – TO – STAY – HERE,’ he says to himself and sinks into anger and self-pity. Then the whistling sound of his email program pulls him out of his thoughts. He goes over to the PC and finds, in addition to the usual spam, an email from his best friend, which he nervously opens.
RECEIVED 22 December 12:45 p.m.
FROM: tobi86@mailmail.de
TO: soeren.lange@GE-mail.de
RE: Something I have to tell you
Hi Sören,
I was really quite surprised by your email. I really didn't think you were gay. And I thought I knew you.
Please don't be angry with me, but I need a little time to deal with this.
I'll get back to you.
Ciao
Tobi
‘Oh no. He needs time. Great rebuff.’
Sören didn't have the heart to come out to Tobias in person and chose the electronic way. From the fact that it took Tobi three days to reply, he concludes that it was probably better that way. Tobi can't handle it. If he had told him to his face, it would have been even worse. The two have known each other since secondary school and have actually always been close. Since they both started their apprenticeships, they have only seen each other at the weekend, but they were still close friends. Well, Tobi has one flaw: he's straight. Big time.
Okay, Tobi has another flaw: he can't deal with the fact that his best friend is gay. Or is he now the former best friend?
Sören's mood has sunk below zero. Two pieces of bad news in the space of a few minutes are just too much. He throws himself on the bed and starts crying.
There's a knock on his door. ‘Yes?’ he calls, annoyed. His mother enters.
‘Hey, is that so bad, big guy?’ she says, seeing his reddened eyes.
Without saying a word, Sören points to the monitor, where Tobi's mail is still open. His parents have known about Sören's homosexuality for a year. There were no problems with the outing; they had already guessed as much themselves. They are also tolerant and open-minded. His mother reads the mail.
‘Give him time, it's not like you're breaking off their friendship. It would sound different. Maybe he's also disappointed that you haven't told him already.’
‘Maybe. We'll see. Mum, I think I really need to think about some things and have some time to myself. Why can't I just go to Denmark on my own?’
‘All alone? That long way? You'll be bored to death up there.’
‘Maybe, but the walls are closing in on me here. And apart from Tobi, no one wants to have anything to do with me anyway. And not him either.’
‘Oh, you. You just have to get out more and not always just curl up in a ball. You look great, you're one of the nicest people I know and if you weren't already my son, I'd adopt you on the spot,’ beams his mother.
Sören can't help grinning. ‘Mum! This isn't acting school! Where did you get that line from?’
The two laugh at each other and briefly embrace.
‘Hey, I was serious about Denmark. I'd hate to spend my holiday at home!’
‘Well, you're old enough. It would be a shame to spend Christmas and New Year without you, but I can understand you somehow. I'd love to sit by our fireplace again in a winter storm and drink a grog.’
‘We can make up for Christmas when I get back,’ beams Sören. The decision has been made. He's going.
Just an hour later, Sören is closing the tailgate of his Golf. His mother had already done the shopping for the holiday and now she has simply packed the boxes of food and drinks into his car.
‘Mum! You want to fatten me up so that I never get a girlfriend and always live at home. Who on earth is going to eat all this?’
‘Don't argue, Junior! Otherwise the neighbours will find a starving Sören and I'll go to jail for starving him. No way. And besides...’
His mother holds out some Danish banknotes and two fifty-euro notes.
‘...for petrol. And for food, in case that's not enough,’ she grins at him.
Sören gives her a kind of puppy-dog look: ‘Thank you. You didn't have to do that, I've got my own money, after all.’
‘Yes, I know. You've arrived. Now drive off, it's supposed to snow tonight. And call as soon as you've arrived. Have you got the keys?’
‘Yes, mum, I've got them.’ “Keys, money, clean underwear and more than enough to eat.’
The two of them are saying goodbye when Sören's father's Mercedes comes up the driveway.
‘Stop! Stay here! You can't leave... ” his father calls out, jumping out of the car.
Slightly irritated, Sören looks at him.
‘.. before you have properly said goodbye to your only father!’ his dad grins at him and rushes to Sören and ruffles his blonde hair.
Before he can object, his father stuffs banknotes into his shirt pocket and says to him in a low voice, ‘But don't tell mum,’ and grins at him.
‘Mum's not blind and I've already given him some money too,’ says his mother in the background, trying to make an indignant expression on her face.
‘Well, now drive off, but tonight...‘ his father begins...
‘it's supposed to snow,’ call out mother and son in unison.
Sören sets off just in time for the 2 p.m. news on Einslive.
His mother waves after him and calls out, ‘Give my regards to the folks back home.’
He has seven hundred kilometres ahead of him and estimates that he will arrive at the holiday home around 9 p.m. This is the first really long trip he has made alone since he got his driving licence. Since his father is a senior physician at a hospital in Gelsenkirchen and his mother also earns a good living from translations, he got both his driving licence and a used Golf last year for his eighteenth birthday. Resistance was of course futile and not what he had in mind.
Shortly before a holiday, the roads in the Ruhr area are always quite busy, but traffic still flows. After three quarters of an hour, he is near Münster and turns onto the A1 heading north.
After a while, he decides to stop at the next rest area. He pulls into the ‘Tecklenburger Land’ rest area and parks his car.
After using the toilet, he goes back to his car, lighting a cigarette as he does so. Sören doesn't really smoke much, but sacrificing a bit of money for the state treasury now and then is okay. On his way, he notices a boy, maybe a little younger than himself, sitting on a large travel bag against the wall of the service station, looking rather sad.
Sören keeps his distance and smokes his cigarette in peace. He wonders why the boy is so sad and sitting here alone on the motorway service area. He thinks to himself that he has probably run away from home. In any case, he somehow doesn't look like he's done anything wrong. He has short black hair, is slim and seems to be about the same height as himself. Sören plucks up his courage and speaks to him:
‘Hi... I'm Sören. Are you hitchhiking?’
The boy looks up slowly and just nods timidly.
‘Where do you want to go? Do you want a lift?’
‘Anywhere's fine. As long as it's far away,’ he says with a sad voice. Sören sees that he has red eyes. He must have been crying.
‘I'm going to Denmark, via Bremen, Hamburg, Flensburg. Is there anything for you?’
‘Sure, I'll take it all,‘ the boy replies, and a hint of a smile crosses his face.
‘Well then, off to the north,’ says Sören, holding out his hand to the boy.
He grabs his hand and gets up, takes his bag and goes with Sören to the car.
‘What's your name, by the way?’
‘I'm Dominik. And thank you for giving me a lift. Up to now, people only ever approached me when I had to fear for my life.’
‘Oh, gladly. I don't like driving alone, and if I have a nice companion, I also get something out of it.’
After he had driven off again, Sören asked:
‘Have you run away from home? Or why are you wandering around on the motorway alone just before Christmas?’
‘Hm. Well, yes and no. I'll be 18 tomorrow and my parents would have kicked me out tomorrow anyway. So I beat them to it by a day.’
‘Kicked out? Why is that? Have you done something?’
‘No, I haven't done anything. But in their eyes, I'm probably quite a failure. But that's a long story and I don't even know you.’
‘Well, we have plenty of time for long stories. But I don't want to be too nosy. If you want to tell them sometime, I'll be happy to listen.’
Dominik quickly changes the subject and starts asking Sören a few questions: where he comes from, what he does and why he is walking along the motorway alone. Dominik is from Dortmund and goes to high school. The conversation is entertaining and before they know it, they are already in the Elbtunnel.
‘So, where do you want to go now? Do you have a place to stay or a destination?’
‘Neither. Wherever the wind takes me.’
Sören thinks to himself that blowing would be a really good idea, but immediately discards this indecent thought because the weather has taken a turn for the worse as he drives out of the Elbe Tunnel. Thick snowflakes drift in the headlights. The motorway is still reasonably clear, but that could change soon.
‘Nicki, I'll make you a suggestion: you're welcome to come with me to Denmark, the house is big enough, you'll have a place to stay for the next while, and I won't be so bored up there.’
Dominik looks at Sören with wide eyes. ‘Did you just call me Nicki?’
‘Yes, sorry, am I not allowed to?’
‘Yes, yes... it's just that my mother used to call me that before...’ he breaks off the sentence.
Sören realises that he mustn't press the matter any further. ’Well, what do you think, it's a great offer, isn't it?’
‘Yes, it is, but I can't accept it. We don't know each other at all and I have no money and anyway...’
‘Money is not a problem, the house is free, my mum has packed me enough food for a football team and you're not going to be a bother. We can still get to know each other. And if you want to leave, I'll take you back to the border. That's a promise.’
‘Look out! Up ahead!’ Dominik calls, but it's almost too late. A car in front of them has spun out in the slush on the right-hand lane. Sören slams on the brakes and tries to get past the car on the left. Fortunately, the left-hand lane is suddenly free and he makes it.
‘Phew! That was a close call! If I ever meet the inventor of ABS and ESP, I'll buy him a drink!’
After the near-crash, there is a tense calm in the car. Sören concentrates on the road, the slush is getting thicker and thicker and slowly he wonders whether he should dare to drive to the holiday home at all today. Besides, the unanswered question hangs in the air.
‘Sören, you're really nice. And I really don't know where to go at the moment. So if your offer still stands...’
‘Of course it still stands. I'd be happy.’
Sören wonders whether he should maybe tell Dominik that he's gay. But after his experience with Tobi, he'd rather not for the time being. When they get to know each other better, he can always come clean then.
It is 7 p.m. near Schleswig and the slush is getting thicker and thicker. He wonders why there are no winter services here. Sören leaves the motorway at the Schleswig service station to refuel. He also has a little something to buy. He has just paid when his mobile phone rings.
‘Sören Lange.’
‘Lange here, too. Your loving parents are watching the news and have realised that it was a stupid idea to drive today. Have you been snowed in yet?’
‘I'm in Schleswig. No, everything's okay, the motorway is still quite good to drive on. It's not that far now anyway. I'll probably be there in three hours,’ he lies, without blushing. You don't have to tell your parents everything. Especially not something that would make them worry.
Back in the car, Dominik grins at him and says:
‘You know, I feel really comfortable with you. All that crap with my parents is a bit further away.’
‘Hey, that's great. Look, we'll have a great time up there. The house is in a really great location, in the middle of the dunes.’
Sören is torn. On the one hand, he is very worried about the further car journey, on the other hand, this boy fascinates him tremendously. His regained smile goes straight to his heart. Slowly, it starts to tingle.
The motorway is now covered by a solid layer of snow, and Sören is driving carefully along the lane at 80 km/h. Fortunately, his dad had bought winter tyres, although you hardly ever need them in Gelsenkirchen.
At the border, Sören presses a button on his radio to change the CD. The Danish national anthem ‘Der er et yndigt land’ plays from the speakers.
‘Sorry, but you'll have to sit through this. It's a family tradition at the border. You should know that my mum is Danish.’
Dominik grins and says:
‘You're crazy. But cute.’
He seems to regret what he has said as soon as he has said it. He touches his mouth and says:
‘Well, I mean nice.’
Sören's head is spinning. It all fits together. The saying just now, being thrown out at his parents. Sören is sure: Dominik is gay too.
And what's more, Sören is on the verge of falling in love.
He says quietly, ‘But not as sweet as you.’
Dominik seems just as irritated by the comment. He stares ahead at the road and says nothing.
After a while, Sören cautiously looks at the passenger seat. Dominik seems to have fallen asleep. At least he has his eyes closed and his head leaning against the headrest.
The rest of the journey becomes increasingly difficult. The snow on the road is already quite deep and Sören can only drive about 50 km/h. On the other hand, there are almost no cars on the road. So there are no more critical driving situations before they reach the holiday home. Ten minutes before midnight, he steers the car unerringly onto the property of the holiday home.
‘Hey Nicki, we're finally here. Wake up!’
The two get out and trudge through the ten centimetres of snow to the front door. Sören unlocks it and turns on the light and the fireplace. His parents always prepare the fireplace so that it can be lit immediately when someone comes to the house in winter. The wooden house consists of a large main room that includes a living room corner with a fireplace, a dining area and a kitchenette. The two bedrooms and the bathroom open off this.
Dominik has to go to the toilet. Sören uses the time to prepare everything for midnight, because Nicki's birthday is in a few minutes. He bought a YES cake at the petrol station in Schleswig and a small candle, which he lights on it. In the pantry, he finds a bottle of sparkling wine, which is at room temperature, but since it is currently only about 5 degrees, it's fine. He opens the sparkling wine, lights a few candles in the living room, turns off the electric light, pours the glasses, and keeps a watchful eye on the clock and the bathroom door. It is a few seconds before midnight.
The bathroom door opens and Sören sees shining children's eyes, a radiant smile and honest enthusiasm.
‘That's... that's not possible.’
It's exactly midnight. Sören gives him a glass of sparkling wine and clinks glasses with him.
‘Happy 18th birthday. From today on, everything will be better!’
‘Thanks. I don't even know what to say.’
‘Just say cheers.’
The two of them toast each other and clink glasses again. After that, Sören hugs him and holds him close. Nicki returns the embrace and sobs.
‘This is the best birthday present I've had in a long time. Thanks.’
‘Don't mention it. Before we finish the bottle, we should empty the car. Besides, I still have to call my parents.’
‘You call, I'll get started.’
Sören dials his parents' number, and they answer immediately.
‘Birte Lange’
‘Mum. I'm here. Everything's okay here.’
‘Well, thank God! That took you long enough! How long were you on the road?’
‘About ten hours. It took me three hours longer than normal. I'm pretty exhausted now and I'll probably go to bed soon.’
‘Yes, do that, we can talk again tomorrow night. Sleep well.’
‘You too. Night.’
Just as Sören puts his phone down on the kitchen counter, Dominik comes in through the door, heavily laden. His black hair is covered in thick snowflakes.
‘Hey, you're barely 18 and you're already getting white hair,’ Sören chuckles.
He shows his white teeth and laughter lines form around his eyes. After a few minutes, the two of them have emptied the car and stowed the groceries in the kitchen. The room temperature slowly rises to a comfortable level and they take off their shoes and jackets. For the first time, he sees his hitchhiker without his thick winter jacket. He is wearing a light sweatshirt and jeans and seems to be a little too thin rather than too fat.
‘Wait, there must be slippers around here somewhere. We don't want you to catch a cold, little man.’
Sören rummages in a cupboard under the coat rack and finds what he is looking for.
‘Is it a size 44?’
‘Yeah, I'm a 43-44. It should fit.’
Sören rearranges the living room a little so that the sofa is directly in front of the fireplace. The two sit down next to each other and start on the bottle of sparkling wine again. The whole room is lit only by candles and the firelight. Except for the crackling and the soft hissing of the fire, it is completely silent.
‘This is really beautiful here. I feel really comfortable. You're a real lucky find,’ says Dominik, smiling gently.
‘Just wait until tomorrow, when you can see what it looks like outside. The house is right in the dunes and it's only a few metres to the North Sea.’
‘I didn't even mean the house. The way you've made it cosy here. Thank you, even if it's only for a short stay.’
‘Well, don't worry about the future. I'm sure we'll find a decent solution for you together. You won't get rid of me that easily now.’
Dominik smiles, remains silent and yawns heart-wrenchingly. Sören is infected by the yawning.
‘I think we should go to bed slowly. It's been a hard day.’
Nicki just grumbles in agreement.
‘Well, the house has two bedrooms, each with a double bed. The beds are both freshly made. You can choose. One of the rooms for you alone or we share one. Whatever you want.’
Sören looks at him questioningly. Secretly, of course, he hopes to be allowed to sleep in one bed with the sweetheart. You can see the wheels turning in Nicki's head.
‘Well, it's all the same to me. I don't want to bother you, so...’
‘You won't,’ Sören interrupts him.
‘Okay, so if it's all the same to you. Staying alone might not be so good at the moment.’
‘No problem. Come on, we'll take the bigger room. Right here.’
Sören turns on the light in the bedroom and gets a little shock. He had forgotten to turn up the thermostat on the electric heater. The temperature in the room is 5 degrees.
The two of them put their duffle bags in front of the wardrobe and take out their sleeping and washing things. Sören goes into the bathroom first and turns the underfloor heating up to 20 degrees. At least it should be warm here tomorrow morning. He brushes his teeth.
‘Man, Sören Lange, you're an idiot,’ he says to himself. Of course the water is ice cold, because the boiler is only on frost protection. So he has to make do with a cold water cat-shower.
Back in the bedroom, Dominik had already changed into a T-shirt and boxer shorts. You can tell from his goose bumps on his slightly hairy legs that he is freezing.
‘But now quickly into the bathroom and then into bed, you're freezing.’
‘Yes, I'll hurry.’
Sören also changes into his night clothes and takes the window side of the double bed. After a short time, Nicki comes into the bedroom and climbs wordlessly onto the other side of the bed.
‘Hey Nicki. If you're cold, you're welcome to come closer. I'll gladly share some of my warmth with you.’
Since there is no answer from the other side of the bed, Sören is annoyed that he said it. He hopes he hasn't ruined anything.
After a minute of tense silence, Dominik finally replies:
‘Thanks for the offer. But I don't think that would be a good idea. Good night.’
‘Night,’ Sören says, and decides to leave it at that. After a short time, he hears Dominik's regular breathing, and seems to have fallen asleep. Sören still has the events of the day going through his mind before he finally falls asleep as well.
Sören opens his eyes. Dominik's face is right in front of his. Both have turned towards each other in their sleep and are quite close. He looks at his companion very closely. His black hair is all messed up, his eyes are closed, he has thick eyebrows, a straight, slender nose, a sensual mouth, and a very light beard. ‘A handsome lad,’ he thinks to himself. It warms his heart. He would love to give him a kiss on the forehead, but he suppresses this impulse.
He quietly creeps out of bed, with his back to the bed, so that Dominik, if he wakes up, does not see his morning wood. He quietly rummages through his bag for a fresh jumper, underwear and socks and leaves the bedroom without making a sound. Before he goes into the bathroom, he lights the fireplace again so that it is nice and warm straight away. The invention of electricity overnight has transformed the bathroom from an ice hell into a bathing paradise. He turns on the shower and after a few moments, wonderfully hot water comes out of the shower head. Sören undresses and gets into the shower. He enjoys the warmth and just stands there for a few minutes. Little Sören does the same. He doesn't seem to want to calm down this morning. But somehow he doesn't feel like masturbating. He has too many thoughts going through his mind. He is definitely in love with Dominik and is afraid that it is only one-sided. He can't really interpret his signals. He can say it either way. He is no longer sure whether Nicki is really gay or whether there is something completely different behind this strange story.
After showering, he stands in front of the mirror and can't see himself at first because it's steamed up. He wipes the mirror with a towel and thinks of his mother, how she would scold him... ‘Now I have to clean it. Couldn't you have waited two minutes?’... and grins. Sören looks at himself. He is slim, but not particularly muscular, with a hairless upper body. Only between his navel and pubic area do some shimmering golden hairs run. He can be satisfied with himself. ‘Nothing special, but it works,’ he says quietly to himself. He brushes his teeth, gets dressed and puts some gel in his blonde hair.
He tidies up the living room a little, adds more wood to the fireplace, puts the used glasses in the dishwasher and puts the sofa back in its original place. Then he starts preparing breakfast. While the rolls are baking in the oven, he takes his cigarette case and goes out on the terrace in his jacket and slippers. It is partially covered and therefore still free of snow at the house. The property is located directly in the dunes, and so some dune grasses peek out from the closed, hilly blanket of snow. He lights a cigarette. He exhales thick clouds of smoke. The weather had calmed down overnight and the sky is now almost cloudless and blue. But it has frozen. The blanket of snow glistens in the early sunlight.
‘Good morning,’ he hears behind him and turns around. Standing in the open patio door is Nicki, wearing only a T-shirt and boxers. Sören can't help but grin at the sweet sight of the sleepy boy with the fluffy hair rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
‘Good morning, Nicki! I ordered extra sunshine for today.’
Nicki grins slightly and just grumbles in agreement. ‘I'll go take a shower.’
‘Do that. Towels are on the shelf next to the sink. Help yourself.’
Sören sets about finishing breakfast. He takes the rolls out of the oven, puts the coffee pot on the warmer and lights a candle. After a few minutes, Dominik comes out of the bathroom with only a towel tied around his loins. Sören has to swallow. He has to pull himself together so that he doesn't pounce on him, he likes what he sees so much. A slim upper body with a small triangle of scattered hair on his chest, the towel bulges a little at the crucial point. Enough to drive Sören's imagination to new heights. Dominik notices how Sören is staring at him and turns red.
‘Er, I'll just go and get dressed. I'll be right back.’
Sören stands there open-mouthed and can't say anything. He has just realised that his staring has been noticed. Now he is blushing too.
After a few minutes, the two of them are sitting at the dining table having breakfast. The awkward silence lasts quite a while.
‘What shall we do today? Fancy a little walk on the beach?‘ asks Sören.
‘Oh yes. Show me the North Sea. I've never been to the seaside. My parents are mountain fanatics.’
‘Nicki, I'll lay the North Sea at your feet,’ grins Sören.
Dominik tilts his head and grins at him.
After breakfast, the two of them wrap up warmly and set off. There is only a narrow trail through the dunes, which is not visible at all in the snow. So they trudge through the crunching snow cross-country until they reach the highest point. From here they can see the North Sea. Today it is calm and only splashes quietly on the snow-covered beach. Dominik is looking enthusiastic again. Both are standing next to each other. Sören says ‘Come on,’ grabs Nicki's hand and pulls him along. Both run down the embankment hand in hand through the snow and stop just before the surf. They laugh at each other and don't let go yet. Neither speaks a word. They look each other in the eye and become serious.
‘You know Nicki, I have to tell you something.’
‘Yes, me too.’