A Reunion
Continued from here, finished in IRC.
Moritz: "2008? That's - that's impossible! I haven't been dead that long, have I? Good lord. Though I suppose time is a bit weird in the afterlife..." He runs a hand through his hair, looking befuddled. "So - alright, how do women dress here?"
Melchior: Melchior laughs a little and shakes his head. "No - I didn't die either! This place is just... strange. There are people here from before our time and after." He shifts his weight a little on his feet and frowns at Moritz. "Well... They wear things that are - very revealing. Short pants that come up to here..." He marks a scandalously high place on his thigh. "And some of them wear shirts with no sleeves, some of them cut quite low - to here." He traces a rather low v-cut neckline along his chest. "They leave little - very little - to the imagination."
Moritz: Moritz lets out a very nearly pained whimper, "Oh Melchi..." He sits in the sand, hugging his knees and looking quite pitiful. "What will I do? Legs in blue stockings is bad enough. But - women walking around nearly naked? Good God, I'll simply die." After a moment's reflection, he added, "Again."
Melchior: Melchior winces a little - he doesn't like to think of Moritz being dead, not now that he's back - and he sits beside Moritz, setting a hand on his shoulder. "It isn't so bad, really... Things are different here, not like back home. People talk about these things here - nothing is taboo. You'll see - maybe even sky blue stockings won't be so difficult for you here."
Moritz: Moritz leans against his friend and rests his head on his shoulders. "Perhaps... or perhaps it will be worse. God - what if the dreams come back? Melchi I don't think I could handle it again!" He sniffles a little and buries his head against Melchior's shoulder.
Melchior: Ohgod it hurts to hear Moritz talk like that - it really scares Melchior, and he starts to panic. He couldn't lose Moritz again, he couldn't bare to go through that. He tries to keep his composure, though, and he gently strokes Moritz's back. "I'm sure you'll be able to handle them; why else would you be back? This is your chance to conquer them. I can help you - I want to help you."
Moritz: Melchior's touch feels good, soothing and familiar. He shifts to snuggle against him properly, wrapping his arms around Melchior's waist and resting his head against his chest. "I want you to help me. I want to be free of this haunting nightmares. I want a peaceful night's sleep and not have to worry about waking up to sticky sheets." He mumbles through the last sentence, a little embarassed by the admission.
Melchior: There was a time that would make him laugh. Now he takes it much more seriously, and he strokes over Moritz's hair, trying his best to reassure Moritz, to hold onto Moritz, not to let him slip away again. "There isn't anything wrong with it... They'll go away, in time..."
Moritz: And it does help, a little. He's able to stop thinking, stop worrying when his in his friend's arms like this. The thought unnerves him a little, but he shakes it off, putting it down to simple brotherly affection, or something of the sort. He closes his eyes with a sigh, smiling just a little. "Mm... I can hear your heart like this."
Melchior: Melchior's blood runs cold and he remembers several things at once - Wendla, and the way her breath felt against his skin; Alex, and the homosexuals on the island; Moritz, and his lips against Melchior's earlier. His muscles stiffen, loosening their hold on Moritz. "Wh - what did you say?" Panic is an uncomfortable taste in his mouth and one that has recently become all too familiar.
Moritz: Melchior's sudden unease made Moritz blink and draw back to look at his friend. "Just that I could hear your heart, with my ear against our chest. What's the matter?"
Melchior: Melchior pulls away, folding his arms up against his stomach, suddenly feeling ill. His mind is racing with too many uncomfortable thoughts for him to possibly think of what to say to Moritz now, so he hugs himself a little tighter, staring, unfocused, at the ground. "Just - don't say that, Moritz. Please."
Moritz: Moritz isn't sure if he should touch him or not. Melchior looks more - frightened than Moritz has ever seen him, and that scares him. Slowly, so as not to startle him, Moritz wraps his arms around Melchior's shoulders. "I'm sorry, I won't. I promise I won't."
Melchior: He flinches, afraid to touch Moritz now, afraid to trust himself around - anyone, even Moritz, even if he knows that's silly. Just because Alex is partially homosexual doesn't mean Melchior will be, but the similiarity between this moment and the hayloft is too extreme; he can remember the way Wendla felt in his arms, and it's too close to this. "I'm sorry, Moritz - it isn't you." He tries to pull away, wondering if now he actually will be sick.
Moritz: "If it isn't me then why can't I touch you?" Moritz bites his lip and winces, remembering that it had only just stopped bleeding. He draws his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them and watching Melchior warily. Seeing Melchior like this... shakes him, badly. Melchi had always been the sure one, the confident one. But now he looks so... lost, so vulnerable. It almost pains Moritz to watch him.
Melchior: Melchior - isn't sure he can tell Moritz. He isn't sure he wants to tell Moritz. He curls up into himself, hugging his knees to his chest, and stares at his knees. "It's - It's something that happened... before I could tell you." That's as close as Melchior can get to mentioning Moritz's death just yet. "I don't even know if I can - talk about it now."
Moritz: "You don't have to. I just - want you to know that I'm here to help you, if you want my help." It sounds a little... well, stupid outloud. But he does want to help Melchior as much as he can, after Melchior's tried to help him so much.
Melchior: Melchior tries to relax, and he nods, happy to try and put this out of his mind now. It was foolish, really, to get so frightened; it was just that he was so surprised. Moritz didn't mean anything else by it, and Melchior certainly hadn't been having... Wendla-esque thoughts until he said it. He uncoils from himself and tries for a smile to give Moritz. "Yes, thank you. I'm sorry - " He breaks off and shrugs, scooting closer again to Moritz.
Moritz: "No, don't be sorry. If you want to tell me, you can. If not then - that's fine." He shrugs back, but he has to wonder what on Earth could have hurt Melchior so deeply that he couldn't talk about it. He shuddered to think of what could shake his steadfast Melchior. He offers his hand to Melchior, if he wants to take it, and smiles a little. "I love you, alright? You're my best friend. I'd do anything for you."
Melchior: There's that word, love. Does he still not know what it means? If it exists? He isn't sure anymore, and his smile becomes a little stronger, if a little harder. He takes Moritz's hand and squeezes it, ignoring the panic that flares up again because it all means nothing and he's overreacting. "I love you too, Moritz." To say anything else would just upset him, and Melchior's already done that enough. "You're my best friend, too. I can't tell you how happy I am to have you back again." Melchior pauses and looks up at Moritz, earnest and serious as he tightens his hold on Moritz's hand. "And I don't think I could handle losing you again." It's slightly pleading.
Moritz: "OhGod - " He can't help it, he launches himself at Melchior and wraps his arms tightly around him. "I'm so happy you're back. I'm so happy I'm back. God you don't know how hard it was - I wanted to bring you with me so badly." The words are falling out of his mouth before he can stop them; a frantic confession spoken into his friend's shoulder. "All I had to do was reach out and touch you - just a little nudge in the right direction. You were so close when you were at my grave, I almost did. And then you could have come with me and we would dance across the rooftops together and laugh at the people going to church and I wouldn't be so lonely."
Melchior: Melchior's arms wrap reflexively around Moritz, even though he starts to feel sick again, that unease settling through him and pulling the blood from his face. This time he knows he can't show it though - Moritz is fragile, and he's always had to be careful about how to handle him. He rubs again at Moritz's back, half-rocking him as he tries to soothe Moritz through his own surprise. "It's okay, Moritz - it's okay. We're here again, and we won't be separated. Not this time, not again, not ever."
Moritz: "I'm so sorry," he gasps, pulling back to look Melchior in the eye. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't doom you to the same fate I was suffering. I would never want that for you, it was only a passing thought." He touches Melchior's cheek lightly, trembling a little from barely restrained tears. "Please don't be mad at me?" He forced a laugh, though it sounded weak. "Put it down to lingering affection."
Melchior: Melchior forces a laugh too, just as weak, and cups Moritz's face, carefully avoiding the hurt lip. "I'm not mad, Moritz. I could never be mad at you, not for anything - not for anything, dearheart." He pulls Moritz into another hug, clinging tightly this time, shoving aside everything that had been plaguing him since the memories of Wendla.
Moritz: Ohgod, Moritz feels his heart melt and trickle down his ribcage at the touch of Melchior's hands, at his friend calling him 'dearheart'. He didn't realize how empty he had felt until now, when he felt so - complete again, with his best friend. His other half. "Oh - dearheart. I'm so happy to be here, to be back and here with you."
Melchior: "Me too, Moritz." His voice is getting choked with emotion and he has to pull out of the hug or he might wind up crushing Moritz with the weight of his feelings. He smiles at him and takes his hand; they're doing much more touching than they have in years but he figures they deserve a little affection after what they've both been through. "I've been hoping this would happen, that I showed up here so that you and I could be reunited."
Moritz: "It's a clean slate." He smiles and kisses Melchior's hand. He's not sure he believes in God, especially after being friends with Melchior for so long, but he's willing to believe that something brought them back together. He's crying again, but out of sheer joy this time. He laughs a little and wipes at his eyes, "Oh God, look at me. I'm a mess."
Melchior: He laughs softly and stands up, brushing the sand off his pants. "Come on, I'll take you to the Compound. Get you cleaned up. You wouldn't believe the sorts of things they have there - the future is really an interesting place." He holds his hand out to Moritz, and uncomfortably flashes back to Wendla again; quickly he tries to squash that.
Moritz: Moritz hauls himself up and takes Melchior's hand, grinning widely. "I look forward to seeing it." And he does, and he's excited about his new life here on the island. Who knows what will happen, but he's certain that as long as he has his best friend again, he'll be fine.
Moritz: "2008? That's - that's impossible! I haven't been dead that long, have I? Good lord. Though I suppose time is a bit weird in the afterlife..." He runs a hand through his hair, looking befuddled. "So - alright, how do women dress here?"
Melchior: Melchior laughs a little and shakes his head. "No - I didn't die either! This place is just... strange. There are people here from before our time and after." He shifts his weight a little on his feet and frowns at Moritz. "Well... They wear things that are - very revealing. Short pants that come up to here..." He marks a scandalously high place on his thigh. "And some of them wear shirts with no sleeves, some of them cut quite low - to here." He traces a rather low v-cut neckline along his chest. "They leave little - very little - to the imagination."
Moritz: Moritz lets out a very nearly pained whimper, "Oh Melchi..." He sits in the sand, hugging his knees and looking quite pitiful. "What will I do? Legs in blue stockings is bad enough. But - women walking around nearly naked? Good God, I'll simply die." After a moment's reflection, he added, "Again."
Melchior: Melchior winces a little - he doesn't like to think of Moritz being dead, not now that he's back - and he sits beside Moritz, setting a hand on his shoulder. "It isn't so bad, really... Things are different here, not like back home. People talk about these things here - nothing is taboo. You'll see - maybe even sky blue stockings won't be so difficult for you here."
Moritz: Moritz leans against his friend and rests his head on his shoulders. "Perhaps... or perhaps it will be worse. God - what if the dreams come back? Melchi I don't think I could handle it again!" He sniffles a little and buries his head against Melchior's shoulder.
Melchior: Ohgod it hurts to hear Moritz talk like that - it really scares Melchior, and he starts to panic. He couldn't lose Moritz again, he couldn't bare to go through that. He tries to keep his composure, though, and he gently strokes Moritz's back. "I'm sure you'll be able to handle them; why else would you be back? This is your chance to conquer them. I can help you - I want to help you."
Moritz: Melchior's touch feels good, soothing and familiar. He shifts to snuggle against him properly, wrapping his arms around Melchior's waist and resting his head against his chest. "I want you to help me. I want to be free of this haunting nightmares. I want a peaceful night's sleep and not have to worry about waking up to sticky sheets." He mumbles through the last sentence, a little embarassed by the admission.
Melchior: There was a time that would make him laugh. Now he takes it much more seriously, and he strokes over Moritz's hair, trying his best to reassure Moritz, to hold onto Moritz, not to let him slip away again. "There isn't anything wrong with it... They'll go away, in time..."
Moritz: And it does help, a little. He's able to stop thinking, stop worrying when his in his friend's arms like this. The thought unnerves him a little, but he shakes it off, putting it down to simple brotherly affection, or something of the sort. He closes his eyes with a sigh, smiling just a little. "Mm... I can hear your heart like this."
Melchior: Melchior's blood runs cold and he remembers several things at once - Wendla, and the way her breath felt against his skin; Alex, and the homosexuals on the island; Moritz, and his lips against Melchior's earlier. His muscles stiffen, loosening their hold on Moritz. "Wh - what did you say?" Panic is an uncomfortable taste in his mouth and one that has recently become all too familiar.
Moritz: Melchior's sudden unease made Moritz blink and draw back to look at his friend. "Just that I could hear your heart, with my ear against our chest. What's the matter?"
Melchior: Melchior pulls away, folding his arms up against his stomach, suddenly feeling ill. His mind is racing with too many uncomfortable thoughts for him to possibly think of what to say to Moritz now, so he hugs himself a little tighter, staring, unfocused, at the ground. "Just - don't say that, Moritz. Please."
Moritz: Moritz isn't sure if he should touch him or not. Melchior looks more - frightened than Moritz has ever seen him, and that scares him. Slowly, so as not to startle him, Moritz wraps his arms around Melchior's shoulders. "I'm sorry, I won't. I promise I won't."
Melchior: He flinches, afraid to touch Moritz now, afraid to trust himself around - anyone, even Moritz, even if he knows that's silly. Just because Alex is partially homosexual doesn't mean Melchior will be, but the similiarity between this moment and the hayloft is too extreme; he can remember the way Wendla felt in his arms, and it's too close to this. "I'm sorry, Moritz - it isn't you." He tries to pull away, wondering if now he actually will be sick.
Moritz: "If it isn't me then why can't I touch you?" Moritz bites his lip and winces, remembering that it had only just stopped bleeding. He draws his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them and watching Melchior warily. Seeing Melchior like this... shakes him, badly. Melchi had always been the sure one, the confident one. But now he looks so... lost, so vulnerable. It almost pains Moritz to watch him.
Melchior: Melchior - isn't sure he can tell Moritz. He isn't sure he wants to tell Moritz. He curls up into himself, hugging his knees to his chest, and stares at his knees. "It's - It's something that happened... before I could tell you." That's as close as Melchior can get to mentioning Moritz's death just yet. "I don't even know if I can - talk about it now."
Moritz: "You don't have to. I just - want you to know that I'm here to help you, if you want my help." It sounds a little... well, stupid outloud. But he does want to help Melchior as much as he can, after Melchior's tried to help him so much.
Melchior: Melchior tries to relax, and he nods, happy to try and put this out of his mind now. It was foolish, really, to get so frightened; it was just that he was so surprised. Moritz didn't mean anything else by it, and Melchior certainly hadn't been having... Wendla-esque thoughts until he said it. He uncoils from himself and tries for a smile to give Moritz. "Yes, thank you. I'm sorry - " He breaks off and shrugs, scooting closer again to Moritz.
Moritz: "No, don't be sorry. If you want to tell me, you can. If not then - that's fine." He shrugs back, but he has to wonder what on Earth could have hurt Melchior so deeply that he couldn't talk about it. He shuddered to think of what could shake his steadfast Melchior. He offers his hand to Melchior, if he wants to take it, and smiles a little. "I love you, alright? You're my best friend. I'd do anything for you."
Melchior: There's that word, love. Does he still not know what it means? If it exists? He isn't sure anymore, and his smile becomes a little stronger, if a little harder. He takes Moritz's hand and squeezes it, ignoring the panic that flares up again because it all means nothing and he's overreacting. "I love you too, Moritz." To say anything else would just upset him, and Melchior's already done that enough. "You're my best friend, too. I can't tell you how happy I am to have you back again." Melchior pauses and looks up at Moritz, earnest and serious as he tightens his hold on Moritz's hand. "And I don't think I could handle losing you again." It's slightly pleading.
Moritz: "OhGod - " He can't help it, he launches himself at Melchior and wraps his arms tightly around him. "I'm so happy you're back. I'm so happy I'm back. God you don't know how hard it was - I wanted to bring you with me so badly." The words are falling out of his mouth before he can stop them; a frantic confession spoken into his friend's shoulder. "All I had to do was reach out and touch you - just a little nudge in the right direction. You were so close when you were at my grave, I almost did. And then you could have come with me and we would dance across the rooftops together and laugh at the people going to church and I wouldn't be so lonely."
Melchior: Melchior's arms wrap reflexively around Moritz, even though he starts to feel sick again, that unease settling through him and pulling the blood from his face. This time he knows he can't show it though - Moritz is fragile, and he's always had to be careful about how to handle him. He rubs again at Moritz's back, half-rocking him as he tries to soothe Moritz through his own surprise. "It's okay, Moritz - it's okay. We're here again, and we won't be separated. Not this time, not again, not ever."
Moritz: "I'm so sorry," he gasps, pulling back to look Melchior in the eye. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't doom you to the same fate I was suffering. I would never want that for you, it was only a passing thought." He touches Melchior's cheek lightly, trembling a little from barely restrained tears. "Please don't be mad at me?" He forced a laugh, though it sounded weak. "Put it down to lingering affection."
Melchior: Melchior forces a laugh too, just as weak, and cups Moritz's face, carefully avoiding the hurt lip. "I'm not mad, Moritz. I could never be mad at you, not for anything - not for anything, dearheart." He pulls Moritz into another hug, clinging tightly this time, shoving aside everything that had been plaguing him since the memories of Wendla.
Moritz: Ohgod, Moritz feels his heart melt and trickle down his ribcage at the touch of Melchior's hands, at his friend calling him 'dearheart'. He didn't realize how empty he had felt until now, when he felt so - complete again, with his best friend. His other half. "Oh - dearheart. I'm so happy to be here, to be back and here with you."
Melchior: "Me too, Moritz." His voice is getting choked with emotion and he has to pull out of the hug or he might wind up crushing Moritz with the weight of his feelings. He smiles at him and takes his hand; they're doing much more touching than they have in years but he figures they deserve a little affection after what they've both been through. "I've been hoping this would happen, that I showed up here so that you and I could be reunited."
Moritz: "It's a clean slate." He smiles and kisses Melchior's hand. He's not sure he believes in God, especially after being friends with Melchior for so long, but he's willing to believe that something brought them back together. He's crying again, but out of sheer joy this time. He laughs a little and wipes at his eyes, "Oh God, look at me. I'm a mess."
Melchior: He laughs softly and stands up, brushing the sand off his pants. "Come on, I'll take you to the Compound. Get you cleaned up. You wouldn't believe the sorts of things they have there - the future is really an interesting place." He holds his hand out to Moritz, and uncomfortably flashes back to Wendla again; quickly he tries to squash that.
Moritz: Moritz hauls himself up and takes Melchior's hand, grinning widely. "I look forward to seeing it." And he does, and he's excited about his new life here on the island. Who knows what will happen, but he's certain that as long as he has his best friend again, he'll be fine.