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Boy out of dem choir 

"Now, everyone, get ready. The concert is starting soon and I don't want to stand for two hours," the mother urged her family in the hallway.
Father, two girls and two boys hastily put on their long blue and green loden coats.
It was winter and these coats had to be worn for a concert in the church.
 
Let's turn our attention to Andreas, a 15-year-old dreamer, sensitive, never the most important person in the class, but not a loser either. He was dark blond, with large, chocolate-brown eyes. His hair was neatly parted, and one of his smart, fine eyebrows was almost hidden by his quiff.
He always had to tilt his head slightly so he could see well, much to the annoyance of his mother, who told him twice a day that he finally needed to go to the hairdresser.
There was a cool movie on TV, and Andreas wasn't really in the mood for this stupid concert by a youth choir from England, from the town's twin town, even though he sang in the choir himself and a girl from the choir was staying at the house. But she was already at church.
 
In the church, neighbors in the third row from the front had reserved seats for this family on the mercilessly uncomfortable pew.
At some point the church door was closed when everything was packed.
After a welcoming speech and program, the choir came in. At least 50 young people in long white robes with ruffs.
It was a combined choir made up of a mixed youth choir and a boys' choir.
Andreas was now attentive and captivated by this performance. They didn't have robes in their choir, and this number came across very expressively.
When the choir began to sing, the overall sound touched him, a kind of sweetness, heart and gut feelings.
To his far right, a blond boy stood in the front row of the choir. He guessed he was 13 or 14. His gaze kept falling on him. He was grace personified, looking like a little angel, concentrating devotedly and staring at the conductor with apparent respect.
When this boy stepped forward with his dark-haired singing neighbor of the same height and sang a two-part duet solo part with him, it was all over.
Andreas got goosebumps and focused all his attention on this boy. Andreas was completely embarrassed and overwhelmed.
'This angel is so close, yet so far away. An Englishman. I wonder what family he's staying with? How will he speak, what will he be like otherwise? Is he a good guy or an asshole?'
But for Andreas, it was clear: 'Someone who can sing like that and even does that number... he must be awesome. Or does he just have strict parents who force him to do something he doesn't even want to do?'
Well... Andreas knew he'd never meet him—or was there a chance? They'd be in town for four days, and there were joint programs where the host families and their choir members would meet those from England.
 
Andreas tried to concentrate on the boy...
'Please look at me, please notice me... somehow!'
But the conductor was the target for the cute blond guy, Andreas realized.
'He wouldn't have to look past the conductor that much...'
'Phew,' thought Andreas and turned to his family to the right and left,
'I hope they didn't notice what was going on with me.'
But they were fixated on the choir. 'Good.'
 
After the concert, Andreas tried to somehow spot where all the choir members from England were hanging out. No chance!
There was a lot of activity with the host families, and somehow there was no way to get closer. The host girl who was staying with Andreas' family was already at her mother's side and was walking to the car to drive home.
 
When we got home, we sat together in the living room.
The girl from the choir was showered with praise for the concert by Andreas' parents. Andreas sat obediently by, sorting out his English for the crucial words: "The solo boys had a very nice voice." "Yes," she replied, "Timothy and..."
Andreas: „Is Timothy the boy with the fair hair?“ „Indeeeeed Andy, yes he is.“
Now he had some information: the boy’s name was Timothy.
He soon found out which local host family Timothy was staying with. "Oh, shit... with THEM of all people!" Andreas thought.
Since the host parents were good friends with Andreas' parents, he knew: 'They're strict, you can't just go there, they're very rich people who are so "ete petete".'
 
Andreas had a hockey game the next day and no chance to participate in the excursions and programs with the guest choir.
Timothy was constantly on his mind. His singing and his entire appearance made his heart race and a kind of longing in his stomach.
The next day, Andreas had no chance to see the choir again.
But there were now photos of the first performance at the church, which the guest girl brought with her. Andreas immediately stole one of the prints and secretly put it in his desk.
 
Departure day! Andreas and his family brought the guest girl to the assembly point where all the host families, local choir members, and the visiting choir from England were gathered.
The choir serenaded the bus. Timothy was nowhere to be seen in the crowd. Andreas stretched in all directions, running around the back of the listening crowd, but he didn't spot him.
Finally... As everyone got in, he saw him: Timothy! He recognized him by his blond hair, the only one with that hairstyle! A sort of bowl cut, with long bangs in the front, long hair on top, and a tapered cut in the back. A totally American teen hairstyle, really.
Andreas felt like he wanted to call out, but he didn't dare.
As the blond boy struggled through the bus with a small backpack over his shoulder, Andreas ran parallel outside.
Finally, the Englishman found a seat on the bus, on the window side next to Andreas, and looked out. 'Yes... he's looking at me... he sees me!' Andreas thought.
Andreas stopped and looked at the boy on the bus with his big chocolate eyes and a sad look on his face. The boy didn't seem to be bothered by the rest of the crowd either... instead, he looked Andreas straight in the eyes. Timothy had blue eyes and actually looked more Swedish than English. The blond guy on the bus seemed kind of excited; he slapped the window twice with the palm of his hand, clearly aimed at Andreas. Timothy frantically looked back and forth in the bus and then straight into Andreas's face. Then there was a "pffffffft" and the bus doors closed. Timothy slumped slightly in his seat and let one of his palms slide off the window. Andreas raised his right arm, made a slow waving motion... and left his hand held slightly raised in the air.
Timothy smiled briefly, but seemed sad. He then pressed his lips together, and Andreas could see that the blond man had a dimple on one side.
The local adult choir spontaneously began singing a song. A great deal of waving and shouting erupted. The bus slowly began to move.
Andreas ran alongside Timothy, smiling broadly. He tried to convince Andreas with hand gestures that he should run faster... Andreas gave it his all, but soon he couldn't keep up. The entire crowd from the village fell behind, and Andreas stood alone on the side of the road, waving a final goodbye.
 
Upon returning home, Andreas immediately stomped into his room. He laboriously dug out the photo of the choir in the church, saw Timothy there in his white robe, and became absorbed in many thoughts... He guarded the photo like a treasure.
It was Saturday night. Andreas had brought some apples from the attic of the house, which were stored there in the dark on old slatted frames.
They were from the last harvest in the garden. He always did this when he couldn't fall asleep, wanted to read late, listen to music, or had to think about something for a long time.
He had an old cassette recorder next to his bed, which he occasionally used to record his piano playing, especially when he was improvising... making something up. Andreas had already taken his first piano lessons at the age of 5, classical lessons, but he also played in a school band on grand piano and keyboards.
He often just played in a mood. For him, it was like writing letters when he was melancholic, really angry, or in a really good mood.
 
Now he was lying half-upright in bed, his pillow pushed back behind his neck, listening to his own recordings on the cassette recorder. He was chewing on an apple.
Suddenly, he heard a passage of his piano playing that he immediately rewound and had to listen to again. He did this a few times and then pressed stop! He jumped up and dug the photo of the choir out of his desk, took it to bed, and listened to this piano passage over and over again.
'Yep!' This music matched his feelings when he saw Timothy in the photo. Something hurt terribly, but he didn't understand it.
It was a boy, after all, but for Andreas, it was an angel with a singing voice that had completely moved and touched him. Andreas knew himself how intimate soprano singing was for a boy, and Timothy looked so noble and simply beautiful. And the scenes and gestures during his departure... His head and stomach were reeling.
Andreas was suddenly totally agitated, almost angry, because these feelings wouldn't leave him alone.
He kept thinking about the boy. He was annoyed that he'd gotten himself so worked up about it. 'Everything's lost anyway! Timothy's in England, that's it!'
Andreas buried the photo back in the desk, slammed the drawer shut, and turned off the light.
 
A good month had now passed since the choir left England.
Andreas went to choir practice, like every week.
There, the choirmaster introduced the group: "Dear people! You surely remember the wonderful days we spent with the choir from our twin city in England." Andreas opened his large, chocolate-brown eyes. "In two months, we'll be traveling over by boat, then a bus will take us there, and we'll stay with host families." He then explained the program to be performed and everything that needed to be organized. Andreas's heart almost stopped, and then it was pounding in his throat!
With the note about the plan for his parents in his hand, he pedaled home as fast as he could to discuss everything there.

---

The day of departure approached. Andreas had been thinking repeatedly about what he would do or say if he saw Timothy again... if he were to face him...
'Will Timothy even be there? Will he have choir guests from Germany at home? Will he even remember?' and, and, and...
Andreas decided to bring Timothy something. Something personal! Regardless of whether he even noticed him, regardless of what happened!
It was evening, no one was in the house. The siblings were with friends, and the parents were invited somewhere. Only Andreas sat at the piano, had switched the cassette recorder to record, and was playing. He played and played, recording everything that came to mind, everything he felt, onto the tape. Completely undisturbed. When the cassette was full, he labeled it, 'Timothy' on one side and 'Andreas' on the other, and wrapped it in midnight-blue paper with stars and moons on it. Then he placed the small package between his clothes in his almost-packed travel bag. He kept taking it out and wondering if it would look good... too much, or could it come across as a declaration of love? 'Shock!'
At times, it ended up in his backpack because Mom always repacked the entire suitcase at the end. 'She'll notice something later!'
'Shit!' went through his head, 'he's laughing his head off! What kind of boy is so uncool with such sensitive shit?' Yes, Andreas was about to freak out. He hit himself in the head and asked himself how stupid he really was. Then he stood in front of the mirror in the hallway. 'Do I look like a girl? Am I crazy? What makes me tick...' he pondered.
Andreas scolded himself... "Nonsense, man, I'm a good boy... I don't look like shit and I can look mean when I want to."
"Damn... why do I have such soft features on my face? You can totally see that I'm a wimp. No, I'm not!" He slammed the case shut, sat down at the piano, and started hammering away...

---

Kisses... "See you again, my darling, and have fun! Did you bring your score? Here... you have a few extra pounds. Be careful on the ship and don't run around on deck at night... blah... blah..." That was the mother's vaccination right in front of the bus, and in such a way that everyone could hear it... Andreas thought to himself as he finally freed himself from the clutches and boarded the bus with his backpack.
YO! It was finally starting. To England... to the ship! Pokpockpock! Andreas had just snagged a window seat when he turned to the window in shock. 'Mommy wants something else...'
Andreas didn't understand anything. The bus closed its doors and FINALLY started moving.
 
The bus journey and ship passage to Harwich, as well as the subsequent bus ride to his English twin town, left Andreas little time for deep thoughts. There was singing, dancing in the ship's disco, and jokes told in the cabin at night. The bus driver on the English side was the ultimate joker and kept everyone in a good mood. He roared through England in his bus at full throttle, which caused the choir director to worry.
face put on.
 
FINALLY. Meeting on the market square in the English twin city, with allocation among the host families (that's what the program said).
With honking, the bus turned into the square and stopped in front of a crowd... the welcoming committee, consisting of the host families and members of the choirs from the city. Andreas was excited. His heart was racing, and he scanned the waiting crowd with a strained gaze for... Timothy. No sign! He didn't seem to have come. In fact, none of the boys from the boys' choir seemed to have shown up.
When Andreas's name was called for "Mr. and Mrs. Smith," Andreas stepped forward, and a fat, round woman in a horrible floral suit writhed toward him. But she beamed from ear to ear and said loudly, "Andrew. Very, very welcome..." Then Mrs. Smith and Andreas headed toward an old light blue Vauxhall.
'What an ugly car,' thought Andreas. 'But the old woman is nice.' Andreas, well-behaved and well-mannered, gave in to the task. His duffel bag and backpack were loaded, and he looked the part: a dark blue Timberland jacket, brand-new, perfectly fitting dark blue Diesel jeans, light brown camel shoes, and a blue-and-white checked Tom Tailor shirt. His quiff was perfectly blow-dried all over... he'd even put on his CK B cologne.
Mrs. Smith was completely captivated by this boy and shoved him into the passenger seat. With a jerk, they took off, and Mrs. Smith talked without stopping to breathe. Andreas had to catch his breath, too, because she drove on the left and sat on the right, and the way the old woman drove, he still had trouble judging the traffic. Besides, he only understood half of it, after all, he'd never been to England before.
 
The exciting journey ended in front of a small detached house. The Vauxhall was still idling for a bit as Mrs. Smith started fiddling with the trunk. Next to it was an old Rover 3000. 'Probably Mr. Smith's car.'
A gaunt man then opened the door of the house and warmly greeted Andreas. They went into the living room. Andreas was stuffed with homemade baked goods, and photos were shown on both sides—of children, siblings, and parents—and Andreas was quickly rechristened Andrew.
Andreas reported on the English choir's visit to his hometown, how great he thought the concert was, and especially the soloists. "I think one of them was called Timothy."
„Yes! Timothy D...!” schmetterte Mrs. Smith. „He lives with his mom, 10 minutes from here. Would you like to visit Timothy?” Andreas blieb fast die Uhr stehen: „Emmmm... no… yes…emmm... we don't know each other... perhaps... later... or…” Zu spät!
Mrs. Smith already had the telephone receiver in her hand: "Maggy?..." She seemed to be talking to her mother... Andreas turned bright red and would have liked to open a trapdoor beneath him.
Crunch! Mrs. Smith had slammed the receiver down, delighted from ear to ear, and informed Andreas that the boys had just had choir practice at church. "Mother will send him over later!"
Andreas felt he must be so red he could have been sold as a light buoy. He felt stress building up inside him, and he kept rubbing his quiff in embarrassment, feeling his palms sweat...
Mrs. Smith had cleared the guest room for Andreas. She was now bustling around the kitchen, and Andreas had gone there to freshen up and unpack.
He noticed fresh flowers on a dresser and an oversized bowl of sweets on a small nightstand next to the bed.
He frantically unpacked his duffel bag and dumped the contents of his backpack onto the bed. "What should I wear now? Never mind... I'll go to the bathroom first."
He undressed, crossed the corridor in shorts and with his toiletry bag, and disappeared into the bathroom that Mrs. Smith had assigned to him.
After showering, he stood in front of the mirror, rubbing his hair dry, when the doorbell rang. "THE FRONT DOOR!" flashed through his mind. He paused, electrified, and listened.
He heard voices outside in the hallway, doors slamming. Quiet!
He quickly brushed his teeth, wrapped himself in a large white bath towel that had been laid out for him, and rushed across the hallway to the door of his guest room. As he did so, he heard Mrs. Smith call from a distance: "Timothy is waiting in your room!"
Too late! The door to the room slammed open and shook as it hit the doorstop.
Andreas opened his eyes in shock and stopped by the door. Equally shocked, and with an expression of having been 'caught,' the blond boy turned around. He had apparently just been inspecting some things from Andreas' backpack that were lying on the bed.
The shock lasted for a moment. Andreas tried to find English words.
The blond man stood there rooted to the spot. He looked his counterpart up and down with his plush blue eyes. Once there, he stared at Andreas's feet and suddenly a broad smile spread across his face, revealing a dimple on one side next to his sweetly curved lips. 'What's going on?' Andreas thought, looking down. A white blob of toothpaste shone on his right big toe. He looked into Timothy's face, and at that moment, both of them burst into a small, liberating laugh.
Andreas reached for the clothes he had taken off earlier and indicated with brief body language that he was 'just going to put something on,' left the room and went back into the bathroom.
When Andreas, smartly dressed, entered the room again, Timothy was sitting on the edge of the bed.
A slight blush crept across Andreas's face. He had trouble looking directly at Timothy for long, as he looked so graceful and beautiful.
He wore a smart black shirt, buttoned all the way up, over beige and white trousers. What was somewhat conspicuous, however, were his very thick-soled, well-polished loafers.
“My name is Andreas... emm... Andrew,” Andreas said.
„I know! My name is Timothy.” „Ok… Did Mrs. Smith tell you?” fragte Andreas.
„Yes, but I know your name since the day we left your city in Germany with the bus!”
Surprised, Andreas looked into Timothy's eyes, which now expressed a certain mischief. Timothy explained that he wasn't the only one on the bus who had witnessed Andreas's sprint next to the departing bus. The girl who had been a guest at Andreas's home and had also been on the bus had witnessed the scene and told Timothy who the athletic boy was and how much she had enjoyed her stay with Andreas' family.
Timothy knew how many siblings Andreas had, what school he went to, that he was a hockey player, played the piano, and sang in the youth choir.
Andreas was stunned! Finally, he sat down on the edge of the bed next to Timothy, some distance away, and tried to say something to Timothy in awkward English:
„I enjoyed your performance in our church, especially your voice, your solo-parts. Great!”
„Thank you, Andrew...” Pause… „I‘ve seen you in the church beside your parents.“
Andreas blushed and embarrassed again. He still remembered how fixated he had been on Timothy in the church.
He respected Timothy. There was something very clear and self-confident about him, even though he seemed half a head shorter than Andreas and was certainly a year or two younger. His speaking voice suggested that his voice hadn't yet broken, or was only beginning to break, but it was still very pronounced. Andreas was familiar with this; he also had a trained voice and, at 15 1/2, could still sing alto.
"It's great to meet you, Andrew," Timothy suddenly said, a little more quietly. He looked down at his legs, which he was swinging back and forth. Andreas looked at him sideways.
A moment later, Timothy turned his head to Andreas, looked briefly into his eyes, and then looked back at his dangling legs.
"I'm happy we did meet now," said Andreas. The 'happy' came out in his voice, but the rest came out in a whisper. Timothy looked back up at Andreas and gave him a slight smile, a hint of dimples, and pursed lips.
A gong rang out with powerful clangs from the direction of the kitchen. It could only be Mrs. Smith. "Äääändruuuuuu.... Timmethäääyyyyyy..." rang out through the hallway. 'DINE! Yoooo!' Andreas and Timothy looked at each other determinedly, nodded in unison, stood up, and set off.
Mrs. Smith was quite excited and made it clear that they should dig in now; there shouldn't be anything left over! Mr. Smith smiled and nodded in agreement, looking pleased at the two boys he and his wife now had at the table.
Timothy sat across from Andreas. Just as the blond man had a much too large piece in his mouth and was cramming it into his cheek, Andreas looked him straight in the face. Timothy stopped chewing, and Andreas noticed that a fit of laughter was brewing inside him.
Andreas pointed with his eyes to a large, kitschy bowl on the table that had a duck head with a long beak on each side as a handle.
Timothy paused, his eyes wide open. His diaphragm cackled, and he did everything humanly possible to keep his mouth closed. Andreas heard his quiet, desperately suppressed inner cackle and, now on the verge of bursting into laughter himself, fixed his gaze on Timothy's increasingly gloriously slitty blue eyes, which were becoming slightly watery. Mrs. Smith, who somehow picked up on the reference to her bowl, looked at the boys.
She announced that this magnificent and particularly valuable bowl came from a special shop in London, and that she had purchased the entire range from this series...
That was too much! Timothy jumped up and ran into the bathroom. Andreas tried to pull himself together and explain to the somewhat startled Mrs. Smith that Timothy had just choked... and that it really was a particularly beautiful bowl! Mr. Smith, looking at Andreas with understanding, put his napkin to his mouth and grinned into her.
Timothy came back, his eyes moist and taking a deep breath.
He said something like: "Ohh... I'm very sorry... blah blah...", and after sitting down again, he kicked Andreas right in the shin under the table, looking at him cheekily with flashing eyes and a fully activated dimple.
This day of arrival in the small English town was for Andreas and the host family
at leisure. The next day there was to be a reception at the town hall, and in the evening the first concert in the town hall.
After dinner, Mrs. Smith suggested that Timothy could show Andreas the area before it got completely dark, and they agreed on a return time of 9 o'clock that evening.
The two didn't need to be told twice and after a few minutes they left the house together.
They now giggled again about the funny situations at dinner
and Timothy explained that he wanted to show Andreas his school from the outside,
Then he'll be home. His mom, by the way, is super nice and the greatest person in the whole world. Andreas will get to know her, too.
 
Andreas could not always fully understand everything that Timothy said,
But somehow it was much more important to him not to interrupt him. He would much rather pay attention while listening and 'have to' look at the blond boy. This way, he could now explore him, his facial expressions, his entire appearance. Every little detail had an impact on Andreas. Everything he perceived about the little Englishman, he found incredibly beautiful, noble, super-smart, with a feeling of the sweetest enchantment in his stomach, but also a large portion of melancholy, which had something to do with a kind of feeling of inviolability.
Andreas also realized: 'That's right, Timothy is about half a head shorter than me.'
 
“'Like your hairstyle,'” suddenly appeared in Timothy's babble.
Andreas was somewhat interrupted from his thoughts, but he wasn't sure if he'd understood correctly. Andreas struggled for something to say.
"I like you very much, too!" he replied. "Excuse me?" came from the other side.
Timothy looked at him as if he really didn't understand a thing.
'Shit,' thought Andreas, 'good thing he didn't understand that.'
He collected in English: “I have to see the barber soon.”
"No, no, no!" came the reply. Andreas gave a charming, doe-eyed glance at Timothy, whose blue eyes winked back smartly.
 
The school was now visible in the distance. Timothy briefly indicated it with a finger, without a word. He then explained everything to Andreas, leading him around each building. They then strolled further down the street. The houses became simpler and finally
They were located between apartment buildings made of old red brick.
The people seen here and there appeared to be workers. Suddenly, Timothy jingled a set of keys and opened the front door of one of these houses. They trudged up an old staircase in a somewhat dilapidated stairwell to the third floor.
The blond boy turned to Andreas with a quick smile, pressed the doorbell, and then unlocked the apartment door. "Mom!" he called, throwing his keys onto a dresser. Andreas closed the apartment door behind him and stood there, looking around briefly, waiting.
It was a simple interior, but very tidy and immaculate. A door opened, and Timothy's mother approached them with a warm expression on her face. 'A beautiful woman!' thought Andreas. Very athletic and aesthetic, with long blonde hair tied back in a long ponytail.
Timothy politely introduced Andreas, and his mother shook his hand. She asked if they wanted to come into the living room, but Timothy said he wanted to show the visitor his room first.
 
Andreas entered Timothy's kingdom. Everything was tidy, and there weren't many
Furniture inside. The white robe hung on a closet under a transparent sheet.
"Have a seat, please," said Timothy, pointing to the edge of the bed. Andreas dutifully sat down.
The 'little one' dug a photo album out of the cupboard and sat down very close to Andreas, keeping his body in contact. He turned on his bedside lamp and turned it so it illuminated the album. Then he began to talk... how his father was no longer alive... that they had lived better lives back then... but that his mother was doing a great job of everything, and he opened the album as he did so.
Andreas had to concentrate hard to understand the essentials. A warmth spread through him during Timothy's presentation, and he enjoyed this closeness.
He now noticed the hands that showed and explained this and that in the photo album.
Of course, these hands also had to reflect the charisma of this boy next to him
They had to be the softest puppy paws in the world,
Andreas. He noticed that they hadn't even shaken hands yet.
While Timothy was talking and explaining intensely, Andreas noticed how it was in his
His neck began to tingle. He got goosebumps.
Timothy spoke quietly, sometimes almost whispering. He ran his hand over vacation photos, some of which included his father. Andreas turned more and more often to Timothy, who was completely focused on the album. He sensed his emotions, which must have something to do with the photos.
 
Andreas felt like he had to put his arm around Timothy and fought a
A struggle to do this or not to do it. Suddenly the thought struck him
the precious time they could only have together.
He did it! Very gently, he placed his left arm over Timothy's shoulder, who paused for a very brief moment, but then continued just as before.
Andreas wanted to slowly pull his arm back, but when Timothy
right hand diagonally backwards and stopped the process, the arm back there
moved to where he was before. Without interruption, he continued with his English presentation
continue to the photos.
Having reached the last page of the album, Timothy left it open
as it was, looked down and fell silent. Andreas examined him with his large
dark brown, shining doe eyes from the side. He could see that in the
a tear had collected in the far corner of his neighbor's eye.
Andreas briefly pulled Timothy towards him. Timothy slowly looked up and then smiled
Andreas looked at him lightly, sniffed briefly and quickly wiped both eyes with the back of his left hand.
Andreas himself was at his emotional limit. He hadn't understood everything, but
Timothy looked ahead again, closed the album, and with a
discreet, sweet smile and a short shrug of the shoulders made it clear that he was fine and everything
continue. Andreas could tell that from his facial expression.
Timothy wanted to stand up and put the album back in its place, but Andreas held him back with his arm around his shoulders; he was shocked by his own gesture because he hadn't really controlled it.
Timothy looked at the closed album, then forward, then turned to Andreas. Andreas felt a kind of apprehension in his stomach, almost as if he had to go to the bathroom. Timothy's eyes wandered very slowly from one doe-eye to the other; he also seemed to scan Andreas's eyebrows and his face in general. Andreas noticed a certain seriousness in Timothy's face and, in doing so, discovered a small dot on one side just above his counterpart's upper lip. Having just noticed this, his sparkling blue eyes formed into a warm, benevolent smile. The corners of his eyes, along with his fine eyebrows, betrayed it.
 
Timothy jumped up: "'Wanna show you something," reached for a small desk
and took a small tin box out of one of the two doors.
He sat down on the floor, beckoned Andreas over and placed the box in the middle.
He removed the lid. Inside lay at least 20 small and large artfully
sprayed and painted stones... in a kind of graffiti style. 'So this is a hobby of
Timothy.' Andreas thought they were beautiful and each stone was very special.
The little Englishman noticed how fascinated his counterpart was by his hobby. While they took out each stone and examined it intensively, Timothy
He started humming quietly, then a little louder, and finally he sang: "Oh happy day... oh happy dayiiieay..."
Andreas laughed and joined in a second voice below. He also knew
this gospel song perfectly. Timothy beamed, stood up, and both of them really got going.
They looked at each other to be in perfect sync. Timothy really vibrated and started
to improvise over the lead voice, phrasing up to his highest soprano head voice.
Andreas had to concentrate hard to keep the tempo of the basic chant exactly. "Yeah!" Timothy shouted, approaching Andreas, jumping up at him with excitement, and crossing his legs behind his hips. "Mom!" he called, reaching out with his long arm.
for the door handle. “Moooom!” “Yes Timmy, I heard it! It was great!” came from the
Living room called.
Timothy landed on his feet again, stood in front of Andreas, smiled brightly at him and asked energetically: "FRIENDS?" Andreas raised his arms to exchange blows:
“Friends!” he replied happily and liberated.
The ritual clapped loudly, and the mother approached with a tray. Cookies and tea!
"Mom... mooom..." Timothy demanded. He begged his mother if Andreas could please, please, please stay with him overnight, or even the entire time he was in the city.
His mother laughed back sympathetically and explained that this wouldn't work; after all, Andreas was staying with the Smiths, and that couldn't be changed. But perhaps they could arrange it that way for once; she would discuss it with Mrs. Smith. But Andreas had to go back today.
As she said this, she looked at her watch, tapped the dial a few times, and alerted the boys that it was almost time.
"I'll bring you back!" Timothy declared resolutely and began sorting the stones back into the tin box. Andreas watched him, relaxed and happy, munching on a cookie at the same time.
Ten to nine! Timothy had brought his new friend right on time to the house of the host family where Andreas was staying.
"Ten minutes," he noted on his watch, leaning his buttocks against Mrs. Smith's old Vauxhall. "Yes... ten minutes," Timothy acknowledged, doing the same.
 
It was dark and a nearly full moon tried to cast a small glow through passing veils of clouds, some thicker and some thinner.
The two hadn't talked much on the way. They had quietly hummed 'Oh Happy Day' once more to cover up the lack of conversation.
Andreas was filled with joy from this evening and he somehow felt the same from Timothy, who had smiled and blinked at him every now and then as he walked away.
"At night I always get the best emotions to compose and to play the piano," he said dreamily. "'Would like to hear it, Andrew,'" came Timothy in a questioning, low voice.
“Can I tell you something?” Andreas now trembled cautiously.
"Indeed. What's up?" asked the blond boy, his blue eyes shining expectantly at Andreas. Pause... Andreas searched for words and smiled, smart and embarrassed.
"Come on... what is it?" came the reply. "'Couldn't forget you since I saw you the first time in church. I wished to meet you so badly... the whole time..." Andreas breathed out almost voicelessly, looking everywhere but into the eyes of the boy next to him. He wasn't saying anything at all right now.
Andreas finally risked a quick glance and saw that Timothy was still looking the same, but there was a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth, towards his dimple.
Andreas's doe-eyed eyes began to flutter. Timothy could clearly see Andreas's eyelashes fluttering erratically. He tried to take in Andreas's entire face, which Andreas turned away slightly when he noticed this. Timothy took his left hand out of his trouser pocket and placed it on Andreas's, using it to brace himself against the cold tailgate of the Vauxhall. Andreas felt the smaller, silky paw, its soft fingers gently trying to dig under his. The small hand squeezed slightly, and the voice that accompanied it said very quietly but firmly: "I'm impressed." Pause...
„No one ever said things, like you did, to me before.“ „Echt?“, brachte Andreas heraus.
"Excuse me?" Timothy immediately replied. "Emmm...wow..." Andreas shook his head with an embarrassed grin on his face, signaling that he was clueless and at the end of his creative process.
Then something seemed to occur to him: "Wait, Timothy!" He simply left the boy standing there. He rang the bell. Mrs. Smith opened the door. "Aahhh, Andrew!" she exclaimed happily.
"I'll be back in a few minutes!" Andreas hurried past her into his guest room. He dug the small package containing the cassette tape out of his luggage and stormed back out, past a somewhat surprised Mrs. Smith, who posed a noticeable obstacle.
Timothy greeted Andreas right at the front door. Andreas pushed Timothy back behind the car and held out the small package. "For me? What's that?... Why?" the smaller man whispered tensely, taking the package from the hectic man, crouching slightly and staring at Andreas with a mischievous smile and dimpled eyes.
Before Andreas could even say that he shouldn't open it yet, the boy had already removed the paper. He stared at the cassette. "Andrew," he read..., turned the cassette over, "Timothy?" he read questioningly from the other side of the gift. Andreas stood before him, excited, almost doubtful.
“Äääändruuuuu!”, it rang out from the front door. “Come in please!”, it came emphatically.
Timothy turned on his blue eyes, shining them on the man who was currently experiencing an emotional collision. Out of the blue, the blond boy's right paw shot up, quickly grasped Andreas's neck, pulled him toward him, and kissed him on the cheek. Just as quickly, he let go and ran out into the darkness.
 
Andreas stood there rooted to the spot, rewinding the film of the last few seconds in his mind a few more times. Yep! He was infatuated! And to the point of pain! Was this just a conquest, or had he completely thrown the little guy for a loop, even caused some damage?
 
He finally trudged into the house. Mrs. Smith greeted him and asked what he wanted: food, drink, and more time to sit together. Andreas indicated that it had been a wonderful evening, but that he was now very tired. They briefly discussed the schedule for the next day, then he undressed, crawled into the guest bed, immediately turned off the light, and let Timothy's thoughts revolve around all of the impressions of the day and everything he found so fascinating about him. The bed's enormous blankets and soft mattress were comfortable, but unfamiliar.
 
He'd barely calmed down a bit and allowed himself to settle in when someone knocked on the window from outside. He jumped up! 'NO...!' he thought immediately, crept to the window, opened it, and two cheeky blue 'spotlights' flashed at him! "You're crazy!" whispered Andreas. "Come out," giggled Timothy. Andreas uncertainly stroked his messy quiff. "Okay, but only 5 minutes," he acknowledged.
Timothy jumped excitedly around in front of the window, checking his surroundings. Andreas quickly slipped into makeshift clothes and crawled out the window. "Your mother, Timothy?" "I told her that I forgot my keys in your room... hehe!"
“Okay,” Andreas whispered back with a grin and continued: “Why did you come back?”
“I forgot something,” Timothy whispered softly, very close to Andreas’ ear.
They both crouched down. "Hmmm?" Andreas asked back. "I didn't say 'Thank You' for the present!" "Of course you did!" Andreas whispered.
"How?" Timothy wondered. A short pause... "Ermm... you kissed me."
"Yes, I did," Timothy grinned back, embarrassed. "I was highly surprised," hissed
He passed Andreas' ear, giving him goosebumps all over his body.
The blond, blue-headlighted boy now positioned his sparkling sapphires directly in front of Andreas's eyes, so that their noses were almost touching. "I hope we're friends for a long time from now on, Andrew," came in a very soft and gentle voice, while Timothy leaned his warm hands on Andreas's knees.
Andreas had to swallow, and warm feelings spread through him. His goosebumps were off the scale, and his attraction to this gorgeous, graceful, sensitive boy forced him to fulfill his desire. Timothy noticed something in Andreas's face.
The little boy was just beginning to doubt his words with "Pardon?" because he didn't understand Andreas's expression. His expression was now flooded with all his emotions. His doe-eyes closed, and his lips slowly approached his counterpart's right cheek. There they placed what was probably the most tender kiss Andreas had ever wanted to give anyone. He waited a moment before looking Timothy in the eyes, suddenly aware of what he had just done.
Very carefully he pulled his head back and opened his eyes.
The blue headlights were on, complete with dimples.
Timothy slumped back onto his heels and let out a breath. Andreas raised his smartly arched eyebrows slightly in question.
After a short pause: “Be assured: You will get such a kiss as well, my friend!”, the little one smiled, his grinning mischievous face and slanted eyes on.
Andreas grinned back, relaxed.
"Piano?" Timothy asked happily, pulling the cassette out of his pocket. "Piano!" Andreas replied in confirmation.
They paused for a moment. Timothy put the cassette back in.
"Tomorrow?" Timothy asked quietly, in a somewhat embarrassed tone. "Tomorrow!" Andreas replied cheerfully in a whisper.
 
Andreas then stood up and climbed back through the window into the house. Timothy came to the windowsill from outside and stretched his arms up. Andreas bent down and hugged his new friend. He briefly nuzzled his face into his collar and breathed deeply through his nose. Timothy giggled softly. They separated, and the 'little one' stepped back from the windowsill. He gave Andreas a happy look, set off, and breathed a 'bye' as he walked away.
Andreas closed the window, undressed again, and snuggled contentedly under the enormous blanket. Now he realized how tired he really was. Nevertheless, he began to think about the possibility of even meeting his new friend the next day. A fairly extensive schedule lay ahead: a welcome at the town hall, a rehearsal, a dress rehearsal, and a concert in the evening. 'Well... maybe he could find a bike somewhere...'
As Andreas thought about this, the active activity in his head switched off and sleep took over.

---

 
"Good morning!" Andreas breathed into his ear from no more than a foot away. His eyes widened and he saw Mrs. Smith, with a delighted expression on her face, clattering a tray onto his bedside table. He realized he wasn't covered at all; he must have kicked himself free in his sleep. He quickly got up, grabbed the blanket, and hastily pulled it up to his chin. Mrs. Smith threw open the window and said loudly, "Andrew, it's a wonderful day!"
She asked if he had slept well and handed him from the tray
an oversized mug. Andreas sipped with a fake grateful, good-natured face
and stated: 'Tea with milk and at least 6 spoons of sugar!'
'Not sweet at all,' he thought, 'but lovely!' He glanced at the tray, whereupon Mrs. Wirbel-Smith announced that it was toast with special, original English jam and that he should come straight to breakfast...
'Breakfast? What did I just get here???' he wondered, irritated.
Andreas felt the draft that Mrs. Smith caused by her speed,
as she happily left the room again.
'Wow,' he thought, and briefly fell back onto the pillow.
Then he nibbled on the toast, which was surely made with love, with his long teeth.
Yeah... he had to eat them somehow.
 
When Andreas left his guest room freshly showered and dressed, he
a scent that suggested something fried.
'Ugh! Fried bacon and eggs...' But there was no escape!
Mr. Smith assigned him a seat at the table, where another huge cup, containing the same contents as the one by his bed, was waiting for him. Mrs. Smith joined him and savored every bite Andreas then brought down.
 
Mr. and Mrs. Smith took the boy to the town hall, where the mayor officially welcomed the choir from the German twin town.
The guest choir sang a serenade in return. After the applause, Andreas immediately broke away from the line-up and turned to the choirmaster, asking if he could take time off from the upcoming tour and the subsequent 'get-together' with all the host families until the rehearsal. That was out of the question today, he said, but gave Andreas a friendly wink to indicate the emphasis was on 'TODAY'. Somewhat agitated, Andreas acknowledged this with a smile: "OK!"
The boy let the day pass. He was feeling dissatisfied, but tried to appear smart and polite. He kept looking around, keeping an eye out...

---

 
Andreas was excited! He was standing on a platform in the second row in the alto section of the choir, relatively centrally. The Stadthalle hall was filled to capacity. They had just positioned themselves in front of the now waiting English audience. The coughing and chatter gradually subsided as the conductor stepped in front of the choir. Andreas's eyes frantically scanned the audience, trying not to miss the choirmaster, who would be giving the cue at any moment. As the choirmaster raised both arms for the cue, Andreas's glance briefly wandered over the galleries. And... YES! He was there! Timothy was standing to his right in the gallery, which was not open to the audience. Andreas quickly smiled up at him, and a moment later the conductor, who gave Andreas a 'look out, please' look, gave the cue.
 
Andreas felt Timothy's gaze; he didn't really need to risk it,
He occasionally glanced up at the gallery, but he did, and almost every time he received a satisfied grin in return. Timothy had placed his arms flat on the balcony railing and rested his chin on his clasped hands. Sometimes he even tilted his head on his arms. You couldn't sit up there, and it certainly wasn't the most comfortable way to sit through a two-hour concert.
 
Applause… The English audience was thrilled and the applause never ended.
The choirmaster sang an encore, which was just as, almost excessively,
Applause. Now the choirmaster became nervous because he was having programming problems.
All the other pieces the choir had rehearsed would have been out of place here. He looked at Andreas, another boy from the alto section, and a girl from the soprano section and beckoned them over. "Cantate domino," whispered the conductor... A piece that Andreas and the other two had rehearsed at home for Cantata Sunday in church. Now it was time to concentrate!
The three of them stood next to each other in front of the choir, the choirmaster gave the three different cues and after the chord was quietly humming clean, he gave the cue.
 
Despite his singing, Andreas felt the audience's even greater silence and concentration. He saw Mrs. and Mr. Smith up front, their eyes fixed on him. He didn't dare look up at Timothy.
When the last chord of the three fell silent and was lost in the hall, it remained silent for a while.
Then a wild round of applause broke out. Andreas looked up at his friend.
He leaned over the railing a little and clapped like he was completely crazy. Then, whoosh, Timothy disappeared.
 
After the applause, the choir broke up one by one and disappeared into an adjoining room. Andreas entered with the others and looked around.
Actually, he should now go and find Mr. and Mrs. Smith and go 'home' with them.
Just as this was going through his mind, a side door opened. "Yeah... Timothy!" Andreas thought. He immediately approached the blond boy, who immediately beamed at him with unbridled warmth. They greeted each other with their eyes and expressions, saying nothing at all, while Timothy repeatedly tugged at Andreas's smart white shirt or pressed one of the mother-of-pearl buttons.
The blond pulled his friend to the side door, opened it quickly and pulled him
through. Now they stood there in the semi-darkness. Andreas threw his well-dried
Hair back and looked into a somewhat amused, slightly cheeky face.
„You are a great singer... it was great... wonderful choir!“, eröffnete dieser.
Andreas raised his eyebrows with a smile. There was something else, wasn't there? What did that mischievous expression on Timothy's face mean?
He pulled him towards him: “Meet you tonight at your window,” he whispered.
Andreas felt a tingling sensation all over... "Okay," he whispered after a short pause
back and grinned.
The discomfort about secretly getting out at night was simply
powerless against this boy's magnetism.
Timothy looked down briefly, considering. Then he took his own right hand, placed a kiss on the palm, and then, "Smack!" he stuck his entire paw right on the spot on Andreas' chest where his heart was pounding.
Surprised, Andreas instinctively held his friend's hand with his own at that spot, and his doe-eyes shone a bright message back. His chest felt warm...
Timothy smiled broadly with closed lips and dimples...
 
Suddenly they stopped and listened:
On the other side of the door behind them someone was now calling: "Andreas? Doesn't
Anyone know where he is now?" "In the toilet," someone said casually.
Andreas grabbed Timothy by both shoulders and confirmed again: "Okay. Tonight!", broke free, took the doorknob in his hand, turned back to Timothy, who was just standing there, rushed towards the 'little one,' hugged him frantically but tightly, and then disappeared through the door to the others.
 

---

Andreas sat in Mr. and Mrs. Smith's living room with his legs almost dangling.
The model of the chair he sank into would surely have been declared 'from Wehrmacht stocks' in Germany. Mrs. Smith, in particular, was almost uncontrollable with delight and excitement after the concert and was probably of the opinion that Andreas really needed to be pampered. Andreas had activated the well-behaved plus obedient program and somehow let it all happen. The conversation was simply exhausting, and even though Mr. Smith meant well by having to explain the special building technology with the domestic hot water storage tank, Andreas had pretty much tuned out and was thinking about nothing but the fact that he would see Timothy again sometime tonight. His stomach was fluttering and he was genuinely worried that this yawn time was 'finally over'.
He would have loved to stamp his feet.
 
At some point he felt that it could no longer be impolite to
To say goodbye to her husband. Mrs. Smith wanted to play him a recording of a choir she had sung in ten years ago, performing similar works. Andreas put her off until 'tomorrow' and 'finally' said goodbye and went to his room.
He laid out an older, slightly tattered pair of jeans that he'd packed for future hikes or picnics. They were actually his favorite. They were tight, had a large tear under one buttock, were completely washed out, and had been tormented by sailing and other activities. They also had rips at knee level and on the front of his thigh. Then he dug out a sweater and his Timberland jacket.
He heard Mr. and Mrs. Smith finally go to sleep, so he undressed, opened the window slightly, and lay down in bed. He wasn't tired at all and felt that his excitement was preventing him from getting any sleep at all.
It was simply an incredible anticipation that brought many impressions of Timothy to his mind.
Again and again he turned on the light and looked at his watch.
They hadn't agreed on a time, and he tried to calculate when his friend would even be able to leave home, plus a good ten-minute walk. He checked the time on his watch and kept postponing the meeting with Timothy by a quarter of an hour. Eventually, fatigue overcame him, without him even realizing it, and he drifted off.
 
Suddenly he awoke with a start: Wasn't something there? He listened. Silence.
He turned on the light, turned a little... There was resistance in the bed!
"Timothy," he whispered in surprise. Timothy was lying next to him with his clothes on, his eyes closed. Was he asleep? Andreas wondered what to do now.
"WOO!" Timothy opened his eyes wide and hurried toward him. Then he cackled and let it be known that he had just arrived. Andreas got dressed in a flash, and only after they had both climbed out the window did the first real word come out. Timothy wanted to show Andreas something or take him somewhere. Andreas understood that much.
 
At the edge of the residential area, Timothy took a forest path. He had a tiny flashlight mounted on a keychain. The night was relatively clear, and the outlines of the trees and the path were clearly visible.
They didn't talk much. Every now and then, Timothy glanced at Andreas, seemingly excited about something or having a surprise.
Soon they came to a kind of viewing platform at the edge of the forest. In daylight, one could probably see over a moor or something, Andreas thought. There were two benches made of tree trunks arranged in a semicircle. In the middle was a small area where people had probably already been barbecuing. Timothy whispered, "Wait!" and disappeared for a moment.
Two minutes later, he returned with a bicycle and a tiny trailer attached. Inside were a sack of charcoal, a blanket, spirit, and paper, as well as a small backpack.
Timothy poured some of the charcoal onto the 'fire pit,' tore up some paper, and sprinkled it all with a little rubbing alcohol. Andreas thought this was really ingenious and also noticed that Timothy kept glaring at him while he was busy, as if he also wanted confirmation that he'd had a cool idea.
He walked up to his blond friend, put his arm around him and whispered:
"What a great idea... but you're crazy!" Timothy grinned cheekily and lit the fire, trying to keep it as small as possible so that no one would notice.
 
Timothy and Andreas sat contentedly on one of the two tree trunk benches, their faces warmly illuminated by the tiny fire. Every now and then, Andreas got up and searched for a few small branches when the charcoal was just smoldering.
Andreas felt Timothy by his side. He was completely relaxed, and he had a feeling of expansiveness in his stomach, peppered with a sense of adventure.
Suddenly, he felt a small hand make its way around his back. It gently dug itself into his hip under his Timberland jacket.
Andreas very gently placed his left hand on the back of his neighbor's neck. He waited a moment... and let his fingertips make barely noticeable caressing movements. When Timothy bent his head slightly forward, accepting this mini-mini caress, Andreas intensified it a little.
 
After a while, Andreas noticed that Timothy's hand on his hip was responding in some way. It was barely noticeable, digging up his sweater a little at that spot and landing on his T-shirt... underneath the sweater.
Time passed, and no one had thrown sticks onto the now glowing coals for a while. It was getting a bit chilly.
Timothy slowly withdrew his hand and cast a dreamy glance at Andreas as he stood up to get some sticks. Once the mini fire was lit again, the 'little one' rummaged through his backpack, pulled something out, and sat down next to Andreas again.
There the blond boy looked at the ground, then at what he was holding in his hands.
„You are my friend, aren’t you, Andrew?“ „Yes! Sure Timothy!“ „I have something for you. Don’t laugh... ok?“ Andreas bestätigte prompt, dass er nicht lachen würde.
Awkwardly, and without looking at Andreas, he handed him something wrapped in a handkerchief, roughly shaped like a large potato. It was heavy. The recipient recognized initials on the handkerchief: 'TD'. They were Timothy's initials. Slowly, he unwrapped it and examined it from above, turning it this way and that. Andreas felt his eyes moisten. He stammered, "It's... beautiful... Timothy... beautiful..."
“Excuse me?” came the meek and uncertain reply.
Andreas held a stone in his hands, artfully designed by Timothy. In a kind of graffiti script, it read 'Andrew' on one half and 'Timothy' on the other. The two names were connected by small chain links. The middle link was painted red. The colors of the countries ran around the bottom of the stone, representing the feet, very finely on each side: the British on one side, the German on the other.
 
Andreas' chocolate-brown, doe eyes filled with tears. He was deeply touched and emotionally overwhelmed by the affection of this boy, whose treasure he was now experiencing and receiving. He batted his eyelashes, struggling. He glanced briefly at Timothy, whose face was still waiting for an answer. But now Timothy seemed to understand and knelt diagonally in front of Andreas so he could look him in the eyes. "YES! You like it... you like it!" Timothy exclaimed quietly, making a cheeky 'strike' gesture.
"You asshole!" Andreas snapped, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand and laughing with a sniff. "Ha! I know the meaning of Aaasch," Timothy giggled back, threw a few more sticks onto the fire and rummaged through his backpack again. Out came two cans of Coke, an oversized bar of chocolate and a bag of what must have been homemade cookies from his mom. Timothy, with the chocolate in his hand, returned to the floor in front of Andreas, opened the wrapper, broke off a large piece and, with the remark "For your brown eyes!", simply shoved it into his friend's mouth and cackled. "'Will get the dimensions of Mrs. Smith within four days," he squeezed out from between the chocolate. "Never!" Timothy giggled, stood up and knelt on the tree trunk bench behind Andreas, who had positioned himself slightly diagonally with his legs half folded to his left side.
The 'little one' snuggled up to him from behind, folded his arms behind his friend's back, and contentedly rested his head and body against it. Andreas was once again flooded with that kind, incredibly warm feeling, which was undoubtedly his friend's natural, free, and fundamentally honest waves. His soft, cuddly paws had turned the stone within a day! As he was thinking this, Timothy said, as if in response.
Then: "I heard your piano-playing on the cartridge while I made that stone for you... The whole day!" This boy then reached forward and wrapped his arms around Andreas. Andreas took one of those cute, soft paw-shaped styluses in both hands and warmed them.
 
“It's made with love!” came from behind... “Yes, your stone!” from the front... “No, your piano!”
“The stone!” “Your music, my boy!” giggled Timothy and jumped down from the bench.
Andreas waved his quiff and fixed his gaze on his friend's blue headlights, which were half serious, half amused and scrutinizing. He stood up and wanted to approach Timothy, but Timothy added his broad grin and dimples and made evasive movements. Andreas stopped, smoothed back his quiff with his right hand and looked at Timothy with shining doe eyes. The blond man came closer and said, "Do you remember what I promised yesterday, Andrew?" Andreas said nothing. He only saw how graceful and beautiful the boy was, who was coming ever closer. He also noticed how warm he felt inside... that his knees were weak. Timothy was now standing directly in front of him. His slightly curved mouth was serious, his sweet, fine eyebrows took on a different arch, and his eyes looked up at Andreas from a slightly downward angle.
Timothy took both arms and gently placed them around Andreas's neck, who was about to collapse to his knees. Just before Timothy closed his eyes, they formed into a smile. Timothy touched Andreas's with his soft lips and gave him a long, tender kiss. Andreas now embraced his friend's hips. Timothy opened his eyes and looked at the mouth he had just kissed.
He whispered if he'd done well, looking politely and questioningly into the half-closed doe eyes. After this question, it was too late for Andreas. He hugged Timothy tightly and lovingly and didn't let go. He kissed him on the cheek and on his slender neck, then took him in his arms again. Timothy made no attempt to break the embrace.
He whispered into Andreas's neck, his lips half-closed: "Never had a friend like you before... don't wanna miss you..." That sounded sad, and Andreas let go of him a little to look at him. He saw something pleading in Timothy's enchanting eyes.
All the sweetness of this boy overwhelmed him and he didn't know what to do.
Nevertheless, he managed to give his friend an encouraging wink along with a comforting 'Hey'.
Andreas broke the hug and reached for the two cans of Coke. He went 'Pfft' twice and handed one to Timothy. His face was already glowing again and he kicked a small branch onto the coals with his right foot, which immediately caught fire.
Andreas and Timothy spent quite a while in front of their small fire. They sizzled sticks in the embers, enjoying their precious time together more than they talked much. They ate the cookies, and every now and then, Timothy grinned and stuffed a piece of chocolate into his friend's mouth. He had turned 14 two months ago and wished Andreas would be there for every birthday from now on. Besides, he had to come sometime when he had holidays. He couldn't easily come to Germany himself because money was so tight at home, and then his mother would be alone.
He asked if Andreas would write to him too, poking around in the embers.
He pulled him closer and promised. Timothy asked again: "Really?"
Andreas smiled and slapped him on the cheek with the expression, 'You're crazy! Of course I'll write to you.' Timothy smiled contentedly and leaned his head on Andreas' shoulder. He focused on his friend's jeans, which had several rips in the thigh and knee area. His right hand immediately moved there and his fingers began to poke around at a conveniently located rip in the jeans. Then his index finger pushed through the rip and briefly wandered around on Andreas' bare thigh.
The fidgeting, grabbing, and fondling of these cuddly mini Winnies, combined with the feeling of his snuggled-up friend, triggered pleasant tingling and warmth in the corresponding area of his body. He got soothing goosebumps that the fluff on his neck stood on end. Andreas enjoyed it and thought, 'Please don't stop... please don't!'
He was sure his friend would also want to prolong these intense moments indefinitely. He simply felt it. He realized that he had conquered Timothy. Everything this little guy had done for this evening..., prepared so well; then the stone... running away from home at night... the promise of a kiss... the questions of fidelity after writing to each other and whether they were and would remain friends... now this boy himself was leaning at his side, lost in thought... his fingers had stopped picking, and his sweet, warm hand was resting on his thigh.
Cute! Even she had something like little dimples, the cuddled one discovered.
 
Andreas was gently interrupted in his thoughts. "Have to leave now..." Timothy said dreamily and hoarsely. After a brief moment of realization, Timothy pinched Andreas
lightly in the thigh, smiled at him with a 'no good flasher' and thus directed
They set off. They poured sand onto the still glowing, scattered coal, loaded the small trailer, and set off on the return journey.
 
Andreas walked next to Timothy, who was pushing the bike with the trailer.
He was lost in his thoughts from before – the emotion of this night-time activity, the effort and the gestures of his friend tingled inside him, but also the fact that they would be parting in a few minutes. Subliminally, he sensed the gentle whispers from Timothy, who had to push some weight... the bike with the trailer. Again and again, the 'little one' glanced over to see what was going on behind the slightly swinging quiff. There was already something going on, because it was just realizing that the
The forest path was almost at an end! Something urgent was building up in Andreas, something,
what he still wanted to say or do or had to do before it was no longer possible today!
Added to this was the protection of secrecy in the forest and the power of the night.
“Stop!” Andreas breathed and braked Timothy, bike and trailer, on his shoulder.
He whirled his head around and whispered expectantly, "What's up, Andrew?"
Andreas seemed desperately searching for any English words, quickly gave up, and simply performed the task of briefly placing the bike on the stand himself. Timothy stood there somewhat bewildered, watching the face that was now about to position itself right in front of him. Andreas placed one palm on the back of his neck and the other gently on the blond hair above.
Just as he was about to say something, Timothy started to grin and his bright white
Teeth flashed beneath his curved upper lip, then he gave Andreas a quick, soft peck on the lips and grinned even more, then whispered teasingly:
“I was first!” Then he cackled briefly and grinned questioningly.
"Timothy..." Andreas began, fully focused... "Andrew!" Timothy giggled back, somewhat disconcerting the man, who now placed his hands on the blond's shoulders. Timothy probably noticed that his friend was searching for words and couldn't find them.
became more serious. "Fuck!" Andreas cursed, whispering uncertain words as if they couldn't express what he meant:
„Thank you so much for the last hours... emmmm... you prepared... everything tonight... the stone... the wonderful stone... feel so much... cannot say all I want in English... it's much more I can say... fffff...“
As he tried to muster the beginnings of even more fragments, a warm, soft palm pressed itself against his lips. This was accompanied by a gentle, "Pssssssssssst... shut... up!" and a cheeky grin that slowly made its way to the ear beneath the quiff. "Err ...
Andreas suddenly felt weak in the knees. He dreaded any further clarifying words from Timothy and nodded slightly in response, irritated. The whispering in his ear continued: "Did I kiss you, Andrew?" – a brief pause – Andreas answered again, nodding.
“O...k...!” came the clear voice from the ear whisperer, who pushed his face back in front of his friend’s and looked at him with his blue eyes, rather seriously.
Andreas was confused; he tried to grasp the meaning of the words, his doe-eyed eyes desperately searching for a clarifying goal. Timothy let out a little moan, à la 'Mennoh.' Immediately afterward, he kissed Andreas once on the cheek and again on the mouth... this time with a certain emphasis in his words.
The last kiss on the mouth had made Andreas realize it. He could still feel the soft lips he'd just felt from his friend on his own, even though he was now standing about half a meter in front of him.
Andreas pulled Timothy toward him and this time kissed him really, really hard on the mouth. The little boy returned the kiss, and Andreas felt his palms gently on his back. Then Andreas found the spot on Timothy's neck below his ear with his lips, his cheek brushing against Andreas's. They paused for a brief moment before separating.
Finally, they resumed their journey back, but at a faster pace.
Andreas felt that what had just happened had almost overwhelmed his friend, no matter how hard he tried.
As soon as he thought that, Timothy laughed at him, as if in response.
'Hmmm. Didn't I have that feeling before?' he reeled his thoughts back and forth...
 

---

It must have been around half past ten in the morning when Andreas from Klappen
was woken up by a car door and the engine starting.
He blinked, yawned deeply, propped himself up on his elbows in bed, and scanned his surroundings, brightness, and sounds with his sleepy eyes.
The window was open, and he noticed the clothes he'd worn the previous night. They were hanging on the window sash, airing out.
'Oh yes,' he thought, 'I hung it there... hopefully the smell of smoke has gone away a bit!'
But what was that? Next to him was the tray again, with a full mug and jam toast. He touched the mug. 'Oh... warm.'
So Mrs. Smith had already been in there with him.
'Hmm... She really let me sleep... Oh yeah, today is Sunday and in the afternoon there's this trip with our choir and everyone from the host families who wants to go and so on...' he recalled this part of the program.
He threw back the covers and stood up resolutely... But then he stopped and realized something: 'Oh man, hey... I'm not walking down the hall with THAT thing.'
He sat on the edge of the bed and helped himself from the tray. He consciously tried to ignore the handicap so it would disappear, but that took a while, if only because he realized he hadn't had a chance to do anything like that in three days. But that wasn't possible now either, because an idea suddenly popped into his head.
 
"Good morning!" Andreas came into the living room, awake, smelling good, freshly showered and blow-dried, to Mr. and Mrs. Smith, who were sitting there with a cup of tea and listening to a Sunday concert on television. Mrs. Smith thought it was wonderful and sensible that the boy had gotten a good night's sleep after yesterday's exhausting concert.
Mr. Smith made a benevolent 'Right, boy' sign with his eyes.
Mrs. Smith now mothered Andreas in the kitchen and thought he dressed really well.
She admired his chic, slightly tailored gray loden jacket, a kind of Janka jacket with a touch of traditional costume. Andreas knew it was a particularly elegant jacket. He had once been allowed to choose it as a gift from an aunt when he visited her in Munich. Yet he had worn it less out of vanity than out of full awareness that, these days, classically well-dressed, yet casual, was the order of the day. He wore almost brand-new white jeans and a smart matching small red-and-white checked shirt with a white T-shirt underneath.
 
While Mrs. Smith bustled around him, her mouth twitching with delight, hoping to save the boy from starving for the next decade, he decided it would be a good opportunity to ask her if he couldn't just run over to Timothy's house and ask him if he'd like to join the trip. She suggested she could just call him, but Andreas managed to convince her that he'd go for a walk, too, and that it would do him good.
Mrs. Smith thought that was great, because back then they hadn't had a telephone and had to travel miles for every little thing... and in the winter... half without food... blah... mush... back then...
During the lecture, Andreas skillfully made his way to the front door, not really understanding everything, smiling smartly at Mrs. Smith and waving goodbye as he left.
 
On the way, he gradually increased his walking pace to almost a jog. This was due to his ever-increasing anticipation of the moment he was about to experience. His thoughts were simply already a few minutes ahead...
 
He pressed the apartment doorbell and ran his hand through his fresh quiff once more, adjusting his clothes a little until he heard approaching footsteps. Timothy's mother opened the door and made a pleasant, surprised "whoa!" gesture. She greeted Andreas very warmly in a subdued voice and invited him in. He was already looking at Timothy's bedroom door, but she invited him into the kitchen, where she was cleaning vegetables. "I think Timothy is tired." She had already been in to see him twice, but he was sleeping so soundly that she hadn't dared to actually wake him up. After all, it was Sunday.
She offered Andreas a kitchen chair on the other side of the kitchen or dining table. Andreas was very impressed by the woman. She was a very attractive woman and had a graceful air about her, just like her son. He even recognized some of the facial expressions and charm he liked so much about Timothy. When his mother asked him something and looked at him with such confidence with her blue eyes, it was a balancing act for Andreas not to blush or become embarrassed. But he had absolutely no reason to blush...or did he?
He felt like he was being tested, even though she wasn't. Quite the opposite. She was just super nice, and somehow young in her whole manner. Almost like a friend.
To Andreas, she seemed as if Timothy must have told her a lot about him. 'Well,' he thought, 'maybe that's just her way of being.'
The conversation covered, among other things, Timothy's school and Andreas's, sports, music and choir, Andreas's parents and siblings. She also talked about Timothy and how he tries to be a bit of the "man of the house" and sticks with her, but also how he struggles in certain situations, at Christmas, on birthdays, and how he shows more strength than he has.
Andreas understood most of what his mother said well. She spoke very clearly and not too quickly, occasionally making a comment in German or saying a German word if she felt he couldn't follow. For Andreas, one thing was clear: Mom was great! There was respect in her, even for her own son.
Andreas now raised his question as to whether Timothy could join the trip.
She thought that was great and said that he should now quietly go over and see if anything was happening in his room.
 
Andreas tapped quietly with his fingernails on Timothy's bedroom door.
He listened... Nothing! He quietly opened the door, went inside, and closed it behind him. He cautiously approached the bed... 'Oh my goodness!' he felt a sudden sensation in his stomach.
Timothy was lying almost completely stretched out on his back, his arms slightly bent upwards above his body, his cuddly hands half open above his head, which was tilted slightly to the side, in Andreas' direction.
His upper body was almost uncovered; the blanket had been pushed aside at a slight angle, reaching just below his navel. One of his legs peeked out slightly to the side. Andreas could still make out the beginnings of some sort of terry cloth shorts, which were secured with a drawstring above each calve.
A snow-white pajama top, also made of the same fabric, lay on the floor next to the bed. Andreas sat down very gently on the edge of the bed, facing his friend, his mouth slightly open, barely breathing, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never been able to simply look at Timothy that closely before without his looks, reactions, words, or actions changing or demanding something.
He now realized this and wanted to hold him for a moment at least like this
allowed to look at it. 'I wonder if Timothy would approve of that...'
Andreas had already felt his friend's soul and his affection.
That this was so incredibly in harmony with this sweetness, loveliness and grace,
What lay there, in such a devoted and simply free, unprotected, open posture, almost drove him crazy with love. Surely it had to be love, right? Since last night, he knew that this boy felt something similar. Because that was the case, he wanted to allow it for himself.
 
Andreas was amazed. Timothy must have been very athletic and was already more of a small
Teenager than he might have expected. His chest was already somewhat developed
And well-defined, not quite like that, but somewhat like what Andreas remembered from a friend who was a competitive swimmer. Timothy also had a bit of meat on his bones and... 'He's definitely not a little boy anymore,' Andreas thought.
Timothy became quite slim towards his hips, as far as Andreas could tell. The skin must have felt silky soft on the surface, but then firm. Andreas took his right hand and placed it five centimeters above Timothy's left breast. 'Would he notice if I touched it?' he wrestled with respect for his friend. His grace, but also a portion of that self-confidence and clarity, was evident in the way he lay there. But then Andreas also saw that familiar, fundamental goodness that Timothy radiated from the inside out.
Very carefully, Andreas moved the three middle fingertips of his right hand
past the left pink nipple. He stroked it there a few times
gently back and forth, slightly up and down. He noticed the fourteen-year-old's very quiet, even, slightly high-pitched inhales and exhales. They were so content and carefree, Andreas felt.
He then took his left palm and placed it on Timothy's stomach without applying any pressure, making these small breathing movements.
Then he placed it where he thought his heart must be beating. He could feel a tiny bit of that beat there.
 
Timothy smacked his lips briefly, revealing his little dimple, and took a deep breath. After pausing for a moment, Andreas leaned over his friend so that he could rest his elbow on the other side. He had, in a sense, bridged Timothy, and Timothy's legs were under Andreas' armpit.
With his right hand he caressed the beautiful body and sank into this caress, while he fixed his eyes devotedly on what he was doing there.
He did this for a very long time...
 
“Äääändruuuu…” came suddenly, relatively clearly and very kindly, from ‘above’.
Andreas looked at Timothy's face in shock.
He smiled from ear to ear and his eyes flashed with amusement.
Timothy gackerte: „Watched you longer as you think.“
Andreas turned bright red and positioned himself more politely on the edge of the bed again.
"Did you check out my body?" Timothy asked with a cheeky grin, running his tongue over his lower lip. The man caught had to swallow. This directness, with the truth in the question, was nasty, but he was redeemed...
The room door was opened after a gentle knock and the
Mother looked in. She expressed humorous surprise at the 'finally growing up'
her son and she asked what he would like to eat.
Andreas naturally and kindly invited her along.
The door closed again, and Andreas and Timothy looked at each other, Timothy again smiling mischievously. He enjoyed Andreas's slight embarrassment one more time, but then, as he stood up, he said with a sincere expression, "I enjoyed it!" and patted his friend on the cheek with a hand as he stood up.
The blond man walked over to his closet and opened it. Andreas sat on the edge of the bed and swallowed quietly. Timothy's figure was perfect to steal. Below his narrow hips were these snow-white terry cloth shorts, which fit perfectly thanks to the ribbons below the knee. Andreas wondered where he would look if they fell off.
Then came the answer: “Do you like my build, Andrew?” asked Timothy, while he gathered fresh clothes from the closet with his back to the slightly confused man.
“Yes... sure, Timothy,” he said meekly, his face now flushed with blood.
"Yes or no?" came another chuckle. Andreas replied, now more amused: "Yes, of course man! You are Mr. Universe!"
Timothy drehte sich um und frotzelte plötzlich sauer und angefasst: „I’m not Mr. Universe! Sorry!“ … Pause… „You have a great body, Andrew! I watched you in your clothes as well. Sure, I’m not as strong as you are. I’d be happy if I had your body!“
 
Andreas was completely perplexed. He must have poked at a wound in Timothy's body.
He stood up and walked over to him, who was messing around with his clothes.
"Timothy... I really like your body! You are wonderful, you know? That's why I enjoyed to watch you sleeping... To taste you..." His chocolate-brown doe eyes wandered lovingly over Timothy's face. He began to smile and said meekly, "Sorry Andrew." "Now I'll drop my pants... if you wanna watch, sit down on my bed!" he commanded cheerfully again. "Or do you wanna read something?" he giggled again, pointing at some comics. Andreas sat down on the edge of the bed again and grinned amusedly.
Timothy stood in front of the open closet doors with his back to him and wiggled his hips. Then, cackling to the tune of 'Oh happy day,' he sang, "Oh happy aaaass...Oh happy boooody..." He tossed his head left and right and waved his arms rhythmically in the air.
Then those terry cloth pants slowly slid to the floor. The people around the bed shook their heads slightly, thinking, 'This can't be true!' Not just because of the sight, but also because of the whole stunt that had just taken place. Andreas laughed and threw himself back onto Timothy's bed.
Timothy's mother was waiting for the two boys in the kitchen with sandwiches and hot cocoa. Andreas concentrated mainly on the cocoa, as Mrs. Smith had already provided him with plenty, which he also told his mother, asking for her indulgence. She laughed heartily at this, as she knew Mrs. Smith very well.
The boy from Germany observed how Timothy and his mom interacted with each other.
It was fun in the kitchen! Timothy was always making jokes or challenging her in some way, pinching her slender legs from behind when she was in a good position, or taking something she had just put away somewhere. But then she would do almost the same thing in reverse, taking something from his plate when he was drinking, or sneaking up on him from behind and then tickling his hips with firm grips, making him squeal until he threw his head back, laughing loudly, a piece of sandwich still bouncing around in it. Then she suddenly turned up the radio, which was playing softly in the background, a little as she
She probably recognized a favorite song. "Oh, Trini Lopez!" she remarked happily, and the two spontaneously sang along, nodding and bobbing to this old evergreen, whose chorus included something like 'Sunshine,' the appreciative observer noticed.
'That was perfect,' Andreas thought, continuing to enjoy the scene between the two. He found it special, however, that Timothy knew such an old song just like his mother, so instantly and naturally, and could sing along. It must have been some kind of 'insider,' he thought.
 
Meanwhile, Timothy had gotten up and was clearing the table, while his mother, who was busy at the kitchen cupboard and the sink, continued to sing and dance along. They bumped their hips together every now and then and looked at Andreas, encouraging him to sing along. Suddenly, his friend, quite slyly and exactly in time, did a heel kick to his mother's bottom, who, at the word 'sunshine' in the chorus, just as cheekily responded with a slap of washing-up foam on his mother's cheek. Timothy then threw a small, already-washed cutting board into the sink, so that the foam splashed into his mother's face.
 
The cheeky boy was already half-running toward the hallway and, giggling and singing, glared into his mother's eyes. She dropped everything she had in her hand into the sink and bolted after her son. Andreas heard them running through the apartment, finally ending up in Timothy's room. "Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh!" came a loud, pleading squeak. When the amused guest entered, he saw his mother tickling the wildly defending, whimpering boy on the bed, occasionally pinching his bottom.
Timothy was soon defenseless due to the intensive treatment and surrendered, lying there breathing deeply and exhausted.
"Moooooom?" he called to his mother, still lying down, who was clattering around in the kitchen again. "Timmmiiii?" came the reply, in the same mimicking tone.
The punished man scrabbled out of bed and made his way into the kitchen, already questioning. He begged, in the most painful way possible, whether Andrew could spend the night with him. Meanwhile, Andreas, keeping out of the way, had taken a seat on Timothy's bedside, but with a desire-supporting energy for this request. A few moments passed... then the little boy, head bowed, came back through the door from his negotiation and stood there in front of his friend.
Then, beaming, he flashed his two blue headlights, stomped the ground once, and made the 'strike' sign. He sat down nimbly next to Andreas, put his arm around him, and whispered excitedly under his dangling quiff that she had given permission, and that he would call Mrs. Smith right away and sort everything out with her.
The two looked at each other with joy, and Andreas patted Timothy's free hand as he held it out. Then Andreas looked at his watch and remembered that the trip would be starting soon.
 
Two large coaches were waiting at the agreed-upon assembly point for all choir members from Germany and their English hosts. Mr. and Mrs. Smith had also arrived, and Mrs. Smith was audibly entertaining one of the various small groups that had formed here and there around the coaches.
Without standing around outside any longer, the two boys scurried into one of the buses and immediately settled into the back seats: Andreas by the window, Timothy to the right of him.
When the blond man took off his light cloth coat, Andreas realized that his friend
must have really made an effort to dress up a bit.
And he had succeeded! He hadn't been there when the little boy got dressed for the trip, but had sat with his mother in the living room for a long time. He also noticed because Timothy looked so strange when he revealed his outfit under his coat, as if he didn't know if it really looked good: a very smart, almost midnight-blue shirt with an elegant, closed stand-up collar, horn buttons, and a button placket, worn over very nice beige, denim-like corduroy trousers.
Andreas examined him, nodded with a blissful expression... Then, at his neighbor's grace and mercilessly uninhibited sweetness, a slight blush crept across his face, accompanied by an embarrassed swallow. Timothy glared at him, first slightly questioningly, then questioningly. Then the little boy looked forward, his eyes forming into small, smiling slits. Andreas immediately did the same... looked forward. But finally, he glanced back again: Timothy was grinning! Almost triumphantly!
"Shut up!" Andreas complained, laughing in a fit of indignation. Then Timothy made a completely incomprehensible expression of innocence and giggled with his mouth closed. "Ass!" Andreas said, grinning, knowing full well that his neighbor knew the term. In response, Timothy slid his left hand under Andreas's thigh. Andreas put his hands over his face. The other couldn't stop himself and burst into a fit of cackle.
 
The bus had now filled up quite a bit and set off after a short speech about the excursion program.
 
The two boys were comfortable back there. The last three rows in front of them were empty, but the other bus was packed. Timothy tried to convey his knowledge of the area to his friend as simply as possible: This was his way to school... that back there was a brewery... a friend lived there... his mother always went shopping back there.
Soon they were driving across the country and the two of them stopped for a moment without saying a word.
have an effect on you.
Andreas was withdrawn. He could no longer keep it from his thoughts: They would be leaving the day after tomorrow! Pains of despair and panic over an impending farewell ran through him... A few minutes ago, his friend's hand had slipped under his thigh again, and he felt its warmth rising up to his heart. But he also wanted to be brave for Timothy, so that Timothy wouldn't feel the hopelessness and powerlessness he himself faced. Andreas's eyes filled with tears, and he preferred to look out his window more often so the little guy wouldn't notice anything.
The hand under his leg moved, disappeared there and for a moment
Later, his thigh became familiarly warm...
“Think of nothing sad,” whispered the familiar voice that belonged to it.
Andreas looked around. Timothy had a pleading expression on his face.
'Why does he always notice everything?' thought the whispered man and placed his hand on the
Another on his leg, who had begun to move her fingers back and forth comfortingly. Now Andreas had to fight even harder and knew: He HAD to look out the window now—not into his friend's face, otherwise his control of his emotions would be lost.
 
Pfffffffffffffff...Tscchschschsch… The bus had stopped and the doors opened.
The passengers unloaded from both buses and outside the German choirmaster called
He gathered his protégés to begin singing a song, waving his hands to quickly form a line. Andreas also took his place in the choir.
 
Andreas watched Timothy as he scurried back and forth behind Mrs. Smith in the audience gathered before the choir, making funny faces to make him laugh. Then the blond man stood next to Mrs. Smith, who was ecstatic and almost melted away before she even sang the first note, and tried to imitate her posture and expression. When Andreas saw Timothy suddenly turn with a twisted face, nose to Mrs. Smith's upper arm, then pretend to briefly check her armpit odor, then hold his nose with flashing, giggling eyes, Andreas burst out laughing.
 
His choirmate immediately elbowed him in the hip. But she, too, had been listening to the nonsense and had to restrain herself. Timothy, in turn, noticed this, squinted, made a buck-toothed face, and wiggled stiffly back and forth. The girl next to Andreas whispered, "Where did you win that one? He's so cute... He was with us in Germany, right?" She didn't get a reply because the choirmaster gave the cue.
 
For Andreas, Timothy stood out from the listening crowd, like the only one in color in a black and white film, but now he stood next to Mrs. Smith, smiling and respectful, and took in what was being presented.
 
The two boys made it through the tour quickly, although Andreas occasionally lingered with his friend at Mr. and Mrs. Smith's house for a few moments; he wouldn't have considered it polite not to pay them any attention at all. Nevertheless, Andreas and Timothy were the first to return to the bus.
They knocked on the front entrance door, and after a while, the bus driver emerged from one of the rows of seats... He must have been taking a little nap... and opened the door. He was a very nice man who felt he had to explain the technical details to the boys. Andreas didn't understand a thing, except that the thing must have a special auxiliary brake that could somehow be activated magnetically and electrically while the bus was moving. At least, that was what the bus driver was mostly talking about.
Suddenly, the driver of the other bus called over to his colleague and beckoned him over. As he walked away, he indicated to the boys that they could get on board.
 
Andreas and Timothy returned to their old spots. They had received a small bag from Timothy's mom and devoured sandwiches and orange juice.
"Do you have a girlfriend in Germany?" came the casual question while examining the bag for more food. "Not for the moment," replied the other, tossing his quiff out of his face with a skilled flourish. "I had ten at least, even though I am just fourteen!" came the clear reply from the smaller one, whereupon his doe-eyed son looked at him in disbelief and shock. "Really?" came Andreas's somewhat uncertain rebuttal. "Or have there already been eleven?" pondered Timothy, putting his index finger to his lips.
Andreas looked at his friend and pointed to a fat girl who was panting
was looking for her seat in the bus aisle. "Number 12!" the German sneered, and, giggling, pushed the spinner forcefully from his seat into the aisle.
He stood up and, without turning to Andreas, made his way to the girl –
“Hi, I'm Timothy!” – and took her bag to stow it in the overhead compartment.
Slightly irritated and turning purple, she noticed the pretty, attentive boy and plopped down in her seat by the window. Timothy sat down next to her without being asked and started blubbering at her. His chocolate-brown doe eyes peered bewilderedly out from behind the second-to-last seat, trying to see what was happening.
The bus filled up again and when everyone was present, it set off towards the next destination.
Andreas slowly began to worry because his friend hadn't come back and was still busy with the girl.
Had Timothy misunderstood the nudge? Or did he want to
Andreas had retreated deep into the corner of the last seat and was becoming more and more worried as time passed that the seat next to
would remain empty for him.
 
After a while, he felt someone sit down next to him again. As he did so, his face somewhat shaded by his quiff, he looked out the window at Timothy's shining sapphire eyes. "Not pretty but very nice!" he heard his friend's assured voice. The doe eyes took in the scenery, not taking in the details. After a while, someone crawled up... "Soooorrry, changing..." the blond boy whispered sweetly in his ear, and a soft, warm paw slipped under his thigh.
Andreas looked around at his friend, smiling embarrassedly, the fading
Hurt was reflected in his chocolate-brown, peeping eyes.
“You pushed me hard and I tried to give it back, but I was just kidding,” Timothy glared, then chuckled amusedly: “Hehehe, you are in loooove, Andrew!”
“Yes!” came hissing back and lightning fast he grabbed his friend and tickled him,
Knowing the passages well, he continued until the pleadingly cackling boy slid from his seat. Then he helped him back up, and Timothy straightened his clothes.
 
Two more excursions were visited, and it was already getting dark as the bus rocked gently along small country roads on the return journey to the starting point. Timothy had snuggled up to Andreas and was dozing off. Andreas really enjoyed feeling his friend so naturally against him. When it rocked particularly hard, he tried to balance the movement a bit so as not to wake the person he was snuggling with.
Finally, the choirmaster made his way down the aisle from the front, stopping here and there
a little chat. Soon he reached the back with the boys. Andreas didn't know how to look or what to do. He fought not to appear embarrassed and not to blush when the man, nodding contentedly while chewing an apple, saw the two of them cuddling. "Oh, have you found a friend? That's nice!" he remarked pleasantly, slowly clambering back.
Andreas relaxed again and let a kind of perceived protective shield and harmony descend over his snuggled friend and himself. He also had butterflies in his stomach because he knew he was allowed to spend the night with Timothy today... He might never have him this close to him again... and all to himself.
While he was lost in thought, he noticed that familiar sniffing smell
true, that Timothy somehow had about him, which also intensified this feeling of warmth in his presence...
After the trip, the two boys first drove with the Smiths to their house so Andreas could gather his things for the overnight stay with his friend; then they went to Timothy's house, where his mother was already waiting with an evening snack for the two of them.
As Andreas quickly put his backpack with his utensils into Timothy's room before dinner, he noticed that his mother had 'built' a bed for him on an air mattress next to her son's bed during the trip.
'Great,' he said, happy that he could be so close to his friend and that
Mother had arranged it that way.
 
During the meal, Andreas felt a growing tingling sensation inside him, because he had the feeling that Timothy felt something similar. It was as if when he tried to fixate on the blue eyes of the man sitting opposite him, which briefly sparkled at him with intense brightness, he couldn't maintain eye contact. There was something in the air between the two of them! The blond was almost more lively than usual, Andreas noticed, and had the impression that he was perhaps trying to hide some kind of nervousness.
The mother had the idea of playing something together in the living room after dinner.
She suggested several options, but Timothy seemed to have no desire to do anything.
Then she heard them tell her about their experiences on the trip, and almost in the middle of it, the little boy said goodbye to get ready for the night. It was already very late in the evening… a time when the mother would have long since put her 14-year-old son to bed, Andreas felt.
Andreas was now sitting with his mother and waiting for the 'dial tone' for the bathroom.
He realized that the beautiful woman was now becoming quite thoughtful, friendly, and serious...
She began: "You must be a very important person for Timmy..." She hadn't seen him like this in a long time. "I think he likes you very, very much..." she said, looking somewhat concerned... and went on to say that it was a shame he didn't have someone like that here, and that Timothy didn't really, or rarely, form such close friendships... He didn't necessarily let everyone get close to him... but... maybe that was a good sign, and she smiled sweetly and nodded at Andreas. "I see, you as well like him a lot, do you?" she smiled. He became very embarrassed, and a blush crept across his face. He also felt his palms becoming sweaty. She looked at him very smartly and almost amused: "I'm not blind... I can read it in your eyes!"
He hardly dared to look her in the eyes... his doe-eyes clacked in embarrassment...
and replied a small and short “Yes!”... then he had to swallow.
The mother smiled at him benevolently: “Hey... that's ok...”, leaning towards Andreas,
placed her hand briefly on his knee and repeated more quietly, but quite firmly and
Winking to make it clear: "That's ok, Andrew!" Laughing, she then added that she herself was not always immune to HIM, especially when he wanted something or when she actually had to be strict.
 
“Readyyyyy!!!” came a cheerful shout from the hallway and a door slammed.
The mother and Andreas looked at each other, grinning, knowing they were thinking the same thing.
The boy threw his quiff out of his face, stood up and made his way to his friend's room.
Timothy was already lying half upright with the blanket pulled up almost to his neck, happily
His eyes twinkling, Andreas came in, his heart racing. He was just about to routinely pack his toiletry bag and nightclothes to go to the bathroom when Timothy, with a cheeky, demanding expression on his face, said, "No, no, no Andrew... drop your clothes HERE!" and giggled. "Now it's your turn!"
Andreas paused for a moment, then grinned back sheepishly and stood in the middle of the room. The blonde then turned his small bedside lamp toward Andreas, who burst out laughing. "Fiiiies!" he managed to say, which the other man probably understood, because he now looked even more amused and cheeky.
Andreas slowly unbuttoned his jacket and threw it on the floor... then his shirt...
He risked a glance at the viewer, whose blue floodlights created other dimensions
whose cheeky grin had given way to a kind of fascination.
Then the actor unbuttoned his white jeans, revealing his dark blue, tight-fitting shorts underneath. Without pausing, he pulled his T-shirt over his head and dropped it. Andreas then stood there with his head tilted and his quiff on his hips, arms on his hips... flashing a smart, embarrassed grin on his friend's face.
Timothy stared at him with wide eyes, staring straight into his chocolate... Then the blue-eyed boy grinned shyly and said quietly, "Yeah... stop it," giggled a little, and made a 'please stop' gesture. Andreas grabbed his toiletry bag and another pair of shorts and went into the bathroom.
When he came back, he saw Timothy, sniffing his white terrycloth top, somewhat dreamily. He wasn't wearing it again; it must have served as a comforter for him. 'That's probably why,' Andreas guessed, 'it was lying on the floor this morning.' He tried not to grin, even though his friend was actually past that age, because it just looked too cute. No sooner had he thought that than Timothy came back to life and buried the top somewhere under the blanket.
Andreas slipped into his bed on the air mattress and Timothy turned his bedside lamp so that it only cast a very soft, dim glow.
There was a knock at the door... The mother came in, asked if everything was okay, brought two more glasses of orange juice and put them on the bedside table. Then she leaned over Timothy, who was hugging his mother and there were two or three smacking noises. Finally she looked down at Andreas, smiled at him, held out her arms and Andreas came towards her. She hugged him and said, "You are very welcome to stay with me during your holidays and whenever you want, Andrew," and gave him a warm kiss on the cheek. He couldn't say anything and sat dumbfounded on his air mattress. He turned to Timothy, who was apparently somewhat surprised by his mother and commented with a gesture that said something like, "Wow, you've got a real gem with her." The mother left the room after wishing him goodnight.
When Andreas asked if she would come back for another look, the blonde said with a dismissive gesture: "Hm... I don't think so," and grinned.
They looked at each other for a while without saying a word... Andreas's diaphragm began to flicker,
when Timothy glared down at him from up there with a melting look and
also checked a bit. Then the smaller one folded part of his duvet
around and slapped his left hand on the sheet to ask Andreas to
Very carefully and watching his friend with his doe-like gaze
Staring into the suddenly bright blue headlights, Andreas slid under the covers next to Timothy. This little nest was fluffy and warm, and the soft, incredibly comforting scent of the sweet boy made him feel cozy. "Hmm... oooh... CK?" the blond asked quietly, savoring the faint scent of perfume.
"Yes," grinned the quiff. Pause... looking... eye contact...
'I'm probably going to wake up in my bed and have to get up,' Andreas thought to himself... He recognized the small dot on Timothy's upper lip again, and he ran his eyes over those fine eyebrows, those familiar eyes that had been released within him, which said everything about his friend's being and soul... This carefree, good-natured, loving little guy with a big heart... who was so self-confident, aesthetic and graceful, so close to him... was with him and wanted to be with him... touched him so deeply and his feelings spread throughout his entire body.
Without controlling it or thinking, Andreas slid his right arm under Timothy's shoulder and pulled him towards him. Timothy reciprocated his gesture by wrapping his right arm around his friend's neck. Their lips touched tenderly, and a dialogue of small, soft, waiting, slow kisses began. Andreas's heart boiled with devotion when he felt a small, soft, warm hand stroke his chest, gently trying to turn him onto his back. He sensed the little boy growing more aroused; his whole body was trembling slightly. Now the little boy was half bent over him and was tenderly stroking Andreas' chest with his paw, exploring it. His dreamy blue eyes flickered over his upper body, kissing it once, then his neck, and then his mouth again.
Then he slid one leg, knee bent, over Andreas's right, his right arm under his neck, and drew back a very long and intense kiss on the mouth. Andreas wrapped both arms around him, and this kiss would become one of those he would never forget.
Timothy's commitment became even more intense, as he had now slid almost his entire body over Andreas, kissing him almost frantically and with all his devotion. Andreas felt not only his own arousal, but also that of his young friend, including his breathing, and dared to open his eyes. Small tears welled up from Timothy's eyes, looking at him almost pleadingly. "Don't leave... don't leave..." he heard a desperate whisper.
Andreas gently turned Timothy onto his side, kissed him tenderly on the forehead, and said, also perplexed, "I'm not able to do a thing... Timmy..." Then, torrents of tears poured from Andreas's doe-eyed eyes. He wept bitterly, his head pressed against his friend's chest, which he occasionally kissed. The small, soft paws ran through his hair and around his neck. "'Will never forget you, Äääändruuuuu," he whispered, sobbing.
So they just lay there for a while… feeling each other and having…
 
When Andreas lifted his head from the small, athletic-looking breast, he felt his own half-dried tears on it. He looked up into the sweet boy's eyes... they looked at him lovingly, with a slight smile. But... there was something else... something was stuck in his stomach area as he tried to briefly separate himself from his friend... he looked down briefly... then a whisper came from above: "Sorry Ääändruuuu...", and he looked back into a slightly embarrassed, smiling face with blue, flashing eyes, which then briefly shrugged its shoulders.
Andreas chuckled a little to himself, and Timothy immediately joined in, cackling away, struggling with the suppression...
It became quiet again between the two and their eyes conversed in a way that expressed love, respect and a special bliss.
While Andreas let his shining doe eyes wander over Timothy's almost respectful face, in order to photograph every detail, he gently stroked his forehead and gently pushed his blond strands to the side.
A moment later, his friend's warm right paw wandered behind his left ear and tenderly unfolded its smaller, soft fingers, whose silky fingertips began a goosebump-inducing circling and stroking that took Andreas' breath away.
Very timidly, the accompanying body soon followed, causing Andreas to lie back slightly. The sweet blond man gently nuzzled his left cheek over the fifteen-year-old's right breast, letting his hand slide down from his neck and left arm, then gently circled Andreas's left breast and abdomen, around his belly button, and back up again.
 
Andreas simply felt a great warmth flooding into his body wherever the little one touched him, and how his circling fingers also sent small, highly sensitive tingling whirlwinds of emotion into him.
He himself had put his right arm behind Timothy's back and responded to this tenderness on his back...
After a while, Andreas began to signal small signs and letters with his fingertips... "Tiiiii... emmm... emmm... Timmy," came a barely perceptible, soft-breathed whisper reply from him. "Elll... why...(LY)..." he continued to guess... Then Timothy lifted his head, kissed Andreas timidly on the cheek, then once again flicked on two small, half-closed, happily blue-glittering eyes, and
He replied, almost only moving his lips: "I love you, too, Andrew," and snuggled his head back onto Andreas' chest. Andreas gently stroked his blond hair, and as he let his hand wander over Timothy's hip, he noticed that his body relaxed even further. After a while, Andreas became aware of the steady, quiet breathing of his friend, who was half asleep on top of him. He didn't dare move even a millimeter...
He didn't want it either... he just wanted to enjoy it... as if it had to be a supply for a long time or forever... If only he could protect him and what made him who he was... But now he lay snuggled up with him, warm and intimate, he could touch him and smell him with his sniffing scent, he felt his gentle breath on his chest,
his arm halfway over his stomach, where the small warm hand next to the belly button
had found its place.
Andreas closed his eyes at this feeling and was just about to drift off to sleep when he heard a faint creaking of the floor in the room, but he felt no panic or desire to escape from this situation... He simply didn't care about anything...
Someone simply took the blanket and gently and motherly placed it over their bare torsos, while Timothy smacked his lips a few times and wrapped his free arm around Andreas's body even more tightly on his stomach.
That was the last thing Andreas registered as he drifted off, then he fell asleep.
 

---

Andreas blinked... Brightness tickled his face... Fingers kneaded his back... "Ääääändruuuuuu..." tickled his ear...
Then he turned completely onto his stomach and let his eyes close again...
“Aahh... mmmmmhhh...” he moaned with a contented grin and enjoyed the wake-up massage.
Then: "Ufff!" Someone had sat down on his thighs just behind his bottom and was really going at it with their fingers on his back. During this action, he noticed how his shorts were slowly but surely sliding further and further down his 'cheeks'. He tried to stop this with one arm behind his back, but 'splat!' it was maneuvered to the side with a giggle. "Yeah, yeah, yeah!" Timothy exclaimed triumphantly, slapping one of his 'cheeks' and pinching the other. Andreas did a little liberating 'leap-frog' and ripped his pants back up, turned around, laughing and complaining, and looked into a hyper-alert, cheekily grinning face. Then Timothy lay down on Andreas with his whole body and started instigating a big cuddle. He tickled him under the hipbones, under the armpits, and every nasty ticklish area he could reach. The blond had put on his white terry cloth top and Andreas tried to annoy him by always finding a sniffing spot somewhere to annoy his friend by 'sniffing it'.
After a while of romping in bed, Timothy snuggled up from behind in a kind of
He approached Andreas in the fetal position and hatched a plan to surprise his mother, who was surely still asleep, with breakfast. When Andreas made a move to get up for it, Timothy grabbed him from behind and whispered, "Uh-huh...?"
"Yes?" he whispered back... but somehow nothing came... Andreas turned around. "This night..." "Yes?" he smiled... "I will never forget it... Will YOU ever... forget... Andrew?" came the voice, accompanied by large, honestly questioning blue eyes. Andreas thought he wasn't hearing right... And melancholy shot into his eyes. Almost desperately and urgently, but quietly, he answered, almost spelling out: "N ever! Timmy... Never!" He ran his entire expression through his loyal, chocolate-brown eyes.
He pulled the sweet little fellow toward him, hugged him tightly, and repeated softly: "I will never forget this night, and I will never forget every little moment we had together!" Then he gave him a tender kiss on his right cheek. Two warm paws held him firmly on his back, as if they never wanted to let go...
 
"The Breakfast," Andreas said, and they parted resolutely. Timothy was already sneaking into the kitchen, and Andreas pulled on a long-sleeved T-shirt from his backpack.
The little boy directed Andreas as to which bread and jam to use, got an old kettle going, and fiddled with a large dented tea tin and a teaspoon.
Once everything was arranged on a tray, Timothy guided his friend to his mother's bedroom. She greeted them both, delighted, already reading a book in bed. The tray was placed on a chair by the bed, and the boys perched on either side of the edge. While the blond boy shoved one jam sandwich after another into his mother's mouth, regardless of whether she was speaking or not, Andreas tried to explain what he had planned for the day.
Today, both choirs would be participating in the farewell concert: the English boys' choir, in which Timothy sang, and the choir from Germany. Soon, the boys left their mother's bedroom again. They still had a little time, didn't have to get ready right away, and hoped that their mother would give them a little more time...
Timothy sat cross-legged on his bed and sniffed at his
white terry cloth top. Andreas squatted on his air mattress and thought.
They had just discussed the day’s program with their mother.
Soon he would be picked up by Mrs. Smith and driven to his choir rehearsal.
Timothy and his boys’ choir also had a joint final concert shortly before
After that, there was to be a final performance in the town hall
A get-together, a wind-down, and... a farewell, since most of the English hosts had to go back to work or school the next day. Timothy also had to go back to school the next day. So... no big goodbyes at the bus... and certainly not from his friend...
When Andreas looked up at Timothy, he noticed that he had stopped his introverted sniffing and was now looking at him with serious concern and big, questioning eyes.
“I believe we can meet after the concert,” it blinked in reply from under its quiff.
"Think you're right," came the meek reply. Andreas knelt down at the edge of his friend's bed and took his right hand in his. He looked at the charming, sweet counterpart, who was currently gathering sadness, and gave him an encouraging, one-sided, chocolate-eyed wink. Timothy responded with a small, silly smile, briefly pressing his curved lips together, which activated his small dimple.
Andreas then brought the little paw to his mouth with both hands,
He spread it out in front of him like a little treasure on his palms and gave it a small, tender kiss... then another... and another... and started to grin... Then he pulled the terrycloth-covered arm to his nose and sniffed it jokingly... He sucked himself deeper and deeper into the fabric and Timothy started to cackle. The blond man swiped his other soft, fluffy paw and cheekily baked it against his friend's cheek, who immediately got up and cuddled the little one on the bed to tickle him in the tried and tested way, 'revengefully'. Timothy squealed, cackled and whimpered for mercy. In between, the quiff also found his belly button and snorted loudly there with his lips.
The blonde's little claws pulled on the quiff and pinched the attacker's nipples, but the latter knew how to rob the little one of his strength with his tickling program.
A quick peck on the loser's heated cheek, and Andreas let go of him.
 
After a short pause, Timothy stood up, stunned but with a plan on his face. He stomped over to his small desk, pulled out some small pieces of paper and two pens. Without a word, they both understood: write down each other's addresses and numbers! Andreas then stuffed his friend's note into his backpack, took off his long-sleeved shirt, and stuffed that in there as well. Then he went into the bathroom to get ready, because Mrs. Smith would be picking him up soon. As he stomped down the hall, he heard his mother, who was already dressed and ready and busy in the kitchen, shout "It's about time."
When Andreas returned to Timothy’s room, he was bustling around with his shirt off
He rummaged around his desk, frantically putting away paper and pens. Then he ran to the bathroom.
 
The fifteen-year-old made his way into the kitchen, where he was given a small breakfast by his friend's warm-hearted mother. "You slept well, Andrew?" He smiled sheepishly: "Yes, I did," and repeatedly looked up at the woman from under his quiff, checking her reaction, while he spooned cornflakes with milk. He politely thanked her for letting him stay overnight. She put down the things she was holding and sat down at the table next to Andreas. "He will be very sad..." she said sweetly, brushing the quiff from his face. He looked up with slightly distorted, writhing eyes and replied quietly: "Me, too," and looked around helplessly for a moment, trying to calm his bursting heart by spooning in more cornflakes, but to no avail.
He didn’t know where to go at that moment and yet he felt his mother’s sympathy,
which sent this just-started engine into overdrive. The dam burst in his eyes, and with the cornflakes in his mouth, he wept bitterly. In the throes of his emotions, he swallowed frantically to finally catch his breath. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around his mother and buried his face in her body. She gently put her arms around Andreas and said something like, "I'll definitely have that program again tonight or tomorrow," and laughed encouragingly, comfortingly and heartily.
While this boy calmed down and said “Thank you” to his mother
Timothy started singing in the bathroom. It was his soprano voice, which seemed to be practicing passages from the upcoming concert program. Andreas looked up with still-watery chocolate eyes... 'That couldn't be true...' 'Please don't add that to the mill,' he thought, and tried to catch a comment from Timothy's mother's face. She was practically grinning, her eyes almost identical to those of her son. Andreas caught on and shook his head at this simply 'unbelievable' thing from his friend, something his mother knew just as well and responded to in that moment.
A moment later, bare, still wet feet tiptoed across the hallway... "Two minutes!" it flew in happily... then his bedroom door slammed.
"Moooooom..." came a moment later. The mother slumped briefly in a Mennoh-like manner, laughed, and headed toward Timothy's room. As she disappeared inside, Andreas heard his friend whispering and pleading. Then the mother returned to the kitchen with a respectful "Ohhh... aha" expression on her face, reflecting on what had probably been discussed or requested there.
 
The doorbell rang. "Mrs. Smith!" Andreas exclaimed. He had barely thought that when he heard her voice: "Timothy, my dear," smack smack... and then she swung into the kitchen, accompanied by the little boy, who, now dressed, was standing diagonally behind the 'proper' lady, rubbing the Smith smacks from his cheeks with both hands, a dissatisfied, serious expression on his face. Andreas was just about to give his friend a malicious grin when the familiar, well-filled floral costume blocked his view. He dutifully stood up, hoping for mercy in regard to what had befallen the little boy. He could handle the warm-hearted balloon popper, which only briefly took his breath away.
He quickly made a run for it to get his things from Timothy's room. There, a boy, all dressed up and attentive, was waiting for him. Andreas put on his smart jacket, threw his backpack over one shoulder, and walked through the room once more, looking for something he'd left behind. The blue eyes followed him until he finally stopped in front of them. They flashed, the little boy flashed his warm, dimpled grin, and jumped up with a kiss on his friend's cheek. Now, pulling him toward him with one hand on his upper arm, he whispered: "Ääääändruuuu..." Andreas felt a familiar, goosebumpy sensation on his ear... "See you at the concert... And after..."
The tingling man dropped his backpack, hugged his friend, and returned a gentle kiss behind his ear, accompanied by a quiet, "Okay, Timmy."
 
Andreas quickly picked up his backpack again, winked sweetly
with a chocolate eye and left the room.
The two boys only made eye contact again when the two choirs took up their positions, half left and half right, in front of the audience of the English host city.
Even this early evening, all seats were filled to capacity. A varied program was presented in rotation, encompassing many styles. The final performance featured both choirs singing together in English, which hadn't been rehearsed beforehand, but worked brilliantly, conducted by the English choirmaster.
Andreas felt a particularly close connection to his friend, whom he could look over at and read from his face.
In general, he had the impression that his own entire choir, whose individual members had made friends in the city, was able to convey a particularly open and detached expression to the audience, which was united with the English choir in the finale.
 
After the last sung note had died away, there was a respectful silence for a while,
before the audience, apparently overwhelmed by the pressure of the last piece, returned a very sustained, thunderous applause. Afterward, the choirs left and disappeared into their respective backstage areas. They were about to join their host families, the English choir, and their entourage for a farewell buffet in the restaurant, without changing.
When Andreas entered these rooms, he immediately looked for white robes, and especially for one in particular, enveloping a blond boy. "Andrew!" he heard an exuberant female voice... Mrs. Smith! Joined by her were Mr. Smith and Timothy's mother. Andreas was at first thoroughly impressed and delighted by the plump lady. Then came a warm handshake with accompanying words of praise from Mr. Smith.
and then Timothy's mom beamed at him, also filled with excitement about the performances.
Then a glass clinked to a speech through some loudspeakers and the mayor
gave a speech... Very extensive and almost never-ending, as Andreas found, who was restless
letting his quiff fly here and there, zooming through every angle he could to find his friend.
After the applause for the speech, the German choirmaster began his reply
and acknowledgments. Andreas was almost mad. Where was Timothy? He looked to his mother for help, who shrugged ignorantly and now also looked around for help, but looked somewhat amused. Andreas suspected something... and looked past Mrs. Smith, who represented a significant visual barrier. He looked around her, and there, always in keeping with his movements, was the corner of a white robe moving around her to camouflage itself.
'Snap!'... he had him, pushing the heavyset Mrs. Smith, who gave a quick "Ohhh!" and looked around in confusion. Timothy flashed a mischievous, cheeky grin at Andreas's relieved, but 'Just wait!' expression.
The little boy pulled him towards him and whispered in his ear with a grin: “Did you miss me?”
“No. Never!” it hissed back, grinning... and then poked the robed creature in the hip.
Then he repeated his answer in a whisper close to his friend:
"Yes... surely I missed you!" "Shhh!" came Timothy's mom's reprimanding cry. The two boys posed as if they were the month's "Good-Being" award winners. Andreas sensed from the side that he wasn't allowed to look at Timothy. He heard a small giggle from there and looked down a bit, where he noticed the stiletto heels (!) on Mrs. Smith's delicate shoes, which barely fit her feet. With his somewhat clunky loafers, Timothy simulated stepping off one of these heels, which, in an emergency, could have resulted in an accident of incredible proportions.
Andreas quickly took a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and blew his
A fit of laughter broke out. Then he heard Timothy squeal next to him; at that point, it was all over.
Fortunately, at that moment, all of the speaker's chattering listeners started clapping, drowning out this outburst in applause.
Soon the buffet was opened. The boys politely pushed their way under Mrs. Smith's cover
to the dishes served and were fascinated by what was on their plates
In single file, the three adults and the two friends looked for
in tow a table where they could all sit together.
 
Andreas was introduced to some of his friends who came to see him from time to time. The adults chatted here and there after dinner, sometimes at this table, sometimes at that.
 
At the end of the event, the English choirmaster called the boys’ choir together once again and made a closing announcement for the evening, asking
asked not to applaud after this contribution.
As Timothy went to his position there, Andreas felt a deep pain
and something like fear rose in his body and soul. He sensed that immediately after this performance, he would have to say goodbye to his friend.
The room fell silent and the fifteen-year-old stood there as if paralyzed, savoring these last, unfinished minutes, still being able to see and perceive his precious conquest, a little bit away from the action.
The soprano boys, with Timothy, began a very soulful, wonderful, old English melody, which slowly built up to four-part harmony. The audience was so quiet that one could have heard the crack of a match. For Andreas, it was the purest and most moving thing he had ever heard from such a choir.
Very gently and ending in silence, the boys soon let the last chord fade away.
Everyone in the hall remained, without exception, moved, until the choirmaster had his boys pass row by row, who left the hall through a trap door, close to Andreas.
In his moved state, Andreas found with his eyes the face of Timothy's mother, who gave him a clear sign to follow him now.
He went through the trapdoor and saw the English boys putting on coats and going out one by one through a side door.
 
He saw Timothy take off his robe, put on his light coat, and slowly approached him. "Ääändruuu," the boy exclaimed happily in a small voice when he saw his friend.
and quickly buttoned the last button.
By now they were alone in the room; the last of the other boys had closed the outside door behind him. It was quiet.
 
"Timmy...", Andreas began, looking into a graceful, brave face... "it's time...", his voice trembled, while his chocolate-brown doe eyes filled with tears and his knees went weak.
The little boy was struggling, he saw it. His sweet, blue eyes began to grow restless.
and looked for help. A small tear formed in the corner of his left eye.
The soft, so sweetly curved mouth began to press its lips together slightly
to twitch, the little dimple switched on and off again, on again,
and out again, the little nostrils widened.
Andreas felt tears running down one cheek and his vision blurred.
He quickly ran the back of his right hand through his eyes to see more clearly... Timothy now shone a blue spotlight on him with devoted, water-soaked, unspeakably loving and grateful beams, and the fourteen-year-old's face, which remained brave and yet had to give up, began to weep bitterly. His eyes drooped and then looked up again in despair.
At this point, Andreas burst out laughing, tears streaming down his cheeks. His soul was torn apart. He looked up at the ceiling, then back at his friend, and cried from the depths of his heart: "Love you, Timmy... love you... I really love you, my friend..." "Love you, too, Ändruuu... I really love you so much, tuuuuuu," came the high, hoarse, almost sing-song voice from his disintegrating counterpart.
Then Timothy swallowed twice, wiped his face with his small palms, approached Andreas, placed his warm, wet paws on the back of his neck, pulled him towards him, and first gave him a peck on the cheek, followed by a deliberately final, loving and tender kiss on the same spot.
Andreas responded in the same way, tasting his friend's tears.
Slowly they let go of each other and for a brief moment their eyes spoke.
Timothy stood there tearfully, having assumed his brave posture.
He took a step back... and: "Bye Äääääändruuuu..." came very quietly and hoarsely
breathed by him...
“Bye Timmy…” Andreas replied, swallowing…
The little one flashed his sweet blue eyes and glared at his friend one last time with such familiarity... then he suddenly turned towards the exit door, pushed it open and dashed outside.
From outside, Andreas heard him running away, his voice breaking into a howl, calling out: “I will miss youuu!”
 

---

---

 
Mrs. Smith had taken Andreas to the assembly point the next morning, from where a bus would take the choir from Germany to the ship in Harwich.
The boy stood, his luggage already stowed in the bus and THE seat in the
secured the far left corner of the last row of seats, still outside with Mrs. Smith
and the last people saying goodbye.
Mrs. Smith had, of course, 'forced' him to eat plenty of treats for the journey.
He was just about to say goodbye to the nice, welcoming lady when an old, rusty Morris pulled up behind the bus. Timothy's mother got out and hurried straight toward Andreas... with a small package in her hand.
"Andrew...!" she cried. Andreas's heart leaped with joy. She quickly hugged the boy, looked lovingly into his face, checking on his well-being, stroked his quiff warmly, and held out the small package. "Timothy wanted me to give this to you... it's all his work..." she explained, almost touched.
Andreas looked at her tensely: “What's this?” he asked.
She reported that Timothy had begged her very much to 'please please' leave his Christmas cookies for
Andreas to be able to bake. But they were the only ones he could bake, she laughed.
Yesterday, after Mrs. Smith picked Andreas up, he immediately started baking those strange cookies. Even though it wasn't Christmas... Andreas absolutely had to have those cookies from him for the trip. Timothy insisted.
The recipient was completely stunned. 'How could anyone come up with something like that...
Typical Timmy!' he thought to himself and was extremely happy.
He noticed that Mrs. Smith and his friend's mother were discussing exactly that. "Lovely... and oooohhhh," he heard Mrs. Smith say delightedly. The women were very amused.
 
The bus driver soon instructed all passengers to board: “The ship won’t wait for us!”
Andreas said a warm goodbye to the two women... Timothy's mother
threw him a flying kiss as she walked away to her car.
 
The bus set off for Harwich, Andreas had the small packet of biscuits
just managed to fit it into his backpack and now left it in his crumb corner
in the rear of the vehicle, the landscape passes by while he dreamily looks out of the
window. He tried to somehow begin to process what he had experienced...
His emotions ranged from joy, great love, and great sadness at separation to happiness at this deep friendship with this boy.
In such a short time, he had received treasures upon treasures from him... He thought of the cookies... of Timothy's stone... he had something of him... but mostly in his heart...
'Hehe, the first night he stood in front of the window... then that incident in the forest... and the flashing blue headlights...'
...Why couldn't someone whisper tinglingly in his ear now...
 
... Sleep.
 

---

 
The passenger and car ferry 'Prince Hamlet' sailed into the night.
Andreas had just retreated to his cabin, which he shared with three people.
He was alone and wanted to be alone there. The others were at the ship's disco or somewhere else on the ship.
He began unpacking things from his luggage that he wanted for the night. He first took the packet of cookies from his backpack and opened the paper. He reverently took out one cookie and examined it.
"Hehe!" He had to laugh. It was a rather misshapen cookie, looking like it had some fine motor skills, and he grinned as he imagined Timothy laboriously shaping it with his paw-like fingers.
'What an idea,' Andreas said, amused, and took a bite...
'Yummy! Absolutely delicious!' They were definitely delicious, wonderful cookies, and for him at that moment, the most special cookies in the world.
Quite uncontrollably, while he was still grinning, his eyes became moist...
A moment later, half crying, he closed the bag and carefully laid it on its side,
continued digging in his backpack, looking for his long-sleeved shirt for the night.
He had stuffed it right at the bottom... But it wasn't there! Yet something white was hidden there... he took it out... "NO!" he said loudly. He jumped up and ran around the cabin with it... Timothy's white terry cloth cuddly top!
He let it fall apart... A small piece of paper fell out and onto the floor.
Andreas sat down on his bunk with the note and read with the feeling as if the
The voice that had written this said: “Äääändruuuuu... sooorrryyy.... I changed
the shirts.... Kisses!..... Timmy." Then there was a smiley face on it.
Andreas started to cry, thought: 'Is he crazy now?', and lay down for a moment
this sniffing toy with that familiar, soft and sweet smell in your face.
Then he quickly gathered his things, lay down in the bunk, turned off the light and
He gently placed his cheek on the white terry cloth... now knowing that Timothy was probably lying on his shirt in the same way, choosing a corner of the sleeve to sniff contentedly to sleep.
 
The ship pushed reliably, occasionally slightly trembling from the propulsion, through the night,
Every now and then it rocked gently in the waves and lulled the boy into a deep sleep.