Disclaimer: Still don't own it. I'll be sure to let y'all know when that changes.

A/N: Okay, so everyone's all, "Hanschen never really loved Ernst and he never will blahblah blahblah blahblahblah!" Even Matt Doyle said that he always thought Hanschen would grow up to be a conservative banker, look back and "totally deny ever having had anything to do with a boy." I disagree. ^^ I know, who am I to contradict Matt Doyle, but it's what I think. It is my opinion that since Hanschen has such a cool, withheld personality that even Matt doesn't realize that he might have deeper feelings for Ernst. Maybe Hanschen doesn't consciously realize it in the window of time in which we see him. It is my opinion that the line, "So are you sorry we...?" in the vineyard is kind of proof that he's disappointed that Ernst may not want a relationship. Anyways, on to the story.

It was dark. Too dark. Hanschen sighed impatiently. Where was Ernst? They had plans to meet here in the woods half an hour after the horizon swallowed the sun, and for once Ernst was late for their rendezvous. He slid down the trunk of the tree he was currently leaning against onto the cool, damp earth. The rough bark of the thick tree ruffled his blonde hair and pushed his shirt up his back. He leaned his head back against the tree and shut his eyes. He'd never be able to see Ernst coming, anyway; the moon's light barely permeated the thick leaves overhead. They rustled and whispered in the cool breeze, but not so loudly that Hanschen did not hear a twig snap several yards away. Hanschen did not move, other than to smile. He was almost positive that he knew what was coming, and sure enough--

Ernst's thin lips smashed onto Hanschen's upturned ones. He leaned into Ernst's kiss without opening his eyes. He ran one hand through Ernst's hair, and with the other, pushed him onto his back. Hanschen lay beside Ernst with his chest touching the smaller boy's. Each could feel the other's heart beat, could almost hear the blood rushing overtime just below the fair skin. Uncharacteristically, Ernst parted his lips and pushed back against Hanschen until both boys were sitting vertically, connected by their kiss. Hanschen pulled his lips away from Ernst's and brushed his lips down Ernst's neck. Ernst drew in a shaky breath. The tip of Hanschen's tongue traced Ernst's jugular vein and back up to his ear, which he pressed his lips against gently. Ernst's cheek brushed Hanschen's as he fumbled with the buttons on Hanschen's shirt. His hands were shaking. Hanschen briefly caught Ernst's hands in his own and held them reassuringly. Hanschen undid their shirts in what seemed like seconds.

One of Ernst's hands sneaked around Hanschen's waist, the other caressed his bare side and somewhat brawny chest. Hanschen tilted his head back and a moan of pleasure escaped his slightly parted lips. Hanschen blindly sought Ernst's belt loops and hooked his index fingers through them, practically pulling Ernst onto his lap. Their breathing was heavy, ragged. Hanschen kissed Ernst's neck while he fumbled with the button on the other boy's pants. The button gave way and he inhaled sharply. They both knew what came next.

Hours later, the two strolled hand-in-hand down a dirt road. The illumination provided by the stars was very dim, but would have to suffice. Hanschen couldn't help but notice that Ernst's particularly pale skin almost shone in the dark. The thought crept unbidden into his mind: "Like a beacon."

He would never in a thousand years admit it, but he was different around Ernst; much softer, more sincere. More real. Why or how it had happened was uncertain, but perhaps that was how it was meant to be. Ernst had worked some strange magic and had gotten behind Hanschen's wall. That was the way it was. Hanschen wanted to be with and stay with Ernst, not just because of the... physical benefits of their relationship, but because there was something irritatingly lovable about the skinny boy with the charcoal hair and skin like a beacon. A wave of unease overtook Hanschen: They could surely not continue like this forever, sneaking around at night in the woods. Something had to give, and when it did, he was sure that there would be hell to pay.

The tiniest of squeezes from Ernst's fingers and Hanschen was back in the present. Hanschen shook his head slightly and squeezed back. With a start, he realized that the road was split in front of them and that they must part for the evening. Ernst's fingers slid through Hanschen's as they whispered melancholy words of parting. Hanschen smiled sadly, and they took their separate roads, headed irrevocably back to slumbering families and dark houses.

A/N: So, what'd you think? (: This actually took me a pretty long time to write, especially considering I'm just about the slowest writer on earth. Also, give me a second to rant: Slash is hard to write! Not because of the homosexuality aspect, but because it's tough to find a balance between overusing names and confusing the hell out of people with too many "he"s.