Work Text:
Prora. Jan had missed it. The sands, the sea and the abandoned building. All of it. He sat on the wall, watched as the waves lapped gently at the shore. Jan wondered whether Mathieu had come back this summer. Idly, he traced the cut on his leg.
Jan made his way towards the abandoned building, barefoot, grass tickling his feet. That was Jan saw Mathieu, lying on the grass like he didn't have a care in the world.
"Mathieu!" Called Jan.
Mathieu looked up but did not reply, merely nodded his head in acknowledgement. Jan sat down beside him, rubbing his fingers against the grass. He searched for something to say.
"So.." Jan said awkwardly, ripping out tufts of grass around him, "...Did you ever get that blowjob?"
Mathieu laughed, unexpectedly, high and clear, making Jan smile.
"Yes," Mathieu drawled, "But it was a wet dream and Adolf Hitler is not my type."
Jan giggled, and chucked the grass at Mathieu, who retaliated by running after the fleeing Jan, who hopped a window into the building and ran up the stairs.
"Mathieu!" hollered Jan, "I thought you were supposed to be good at running!"
Mathieu followed closely grabbing at Jan's shirt. Jan made a narrow escape and continued running down the hallway. Finally, Mathieu tackled him and Jan ended up trapped, straddled by Mathieu.
"Deja vu," breathed Jan.
Suddenly, Mathieu got up.
"You're not gonna punch me again, are you?"
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Mathieu suddenly yelled, rounding on him.
Jan cowered as Mathieu seemed ready to punch him. He hit his leg, the scar still sensitive and the pain and the fear made him cry. He sobbed brokenly and hit the wall with his fist. This time Mathieu did not leave and just stared openly at Jan.
"Fuck," swore Mathieu, "Look, I'm sorry, okay? Just stop crying."
Mathie pulled Jan into a hug and Jan half heartedly tried to push him away.
"Fuck you," cried Jan, still clinging onto Mathieu's shirt, "You're an asshole!"
They stayed entwined like that with Jan crying into Mathieu's shirt for several minutes. Jan pulled away first, furiously knuckling his eyes. Mathieu seemed incapabable of speaking words and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.
"Well, I'll leave then, shall I?" said Jan, angry, "Wouldn't want my faggotry to rub off on you, like last time."
Jan stormed off towards what he hoped was the exit but Mathieu pulled his arm backwards. He shoved Jan up against the wall and looked deeply into his eyes. And kissed him.
Jan entwined his fingers into Mathieu's hair and smoothed it with his palm as they continued to kiss passionately. Mathieu tugged at the blondes hair, slightly demanding, and with his other hand slid his hand up into Jan's shirt and then down again where he grabbed Jan's ass and pulled him closer.
They parted, breathless. A long string of saliva connected them. Mathieu smirked.
"The only thing," said Mathieu, debauched and devilish, "I want you to rub off on me is," pausing to flick a strand of Jan's hair out the way, " your dick."