Battle of the Rhine

Michael shot two rolls of film in no time.Christmas is over, and New Years is over, and New Years is over, and Three Kings Day.Celebrating the festival in a foreign country is always fresh.The holiday, however, has nothing to do with Quinnessy, who stays at home, and there are few signs of the festivities in his home.

Before New Years, Michael had a drink with Oliver.Oliver raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw him, "Fuck, old Mike, you're looking more and more like a fucking German!"

"Bullshit." Michael pulled off his coat, "I'm an American through and through."

He had "rented" the coat from Quincy.Quincy gave him the suit, much to Mike's delight and embarrassment.Although Quincy repeatedly claimed that it was his old clothes, Michael didn't think so.Before going out today he went to Quincy to tie his tie. Quincy was sitting in front of the fireplace with a big thick book on his lap.He tied Mike a nice knot, then frowned critically and said, "If you want to wear it, just stretch the shirt out."

"I'm stretched," Michael quickly tucked the hem of his shirt into his trouser waist, "mainly—"

"It's a mess," Quincy commented.

At the request of the strict German, Michael smoothed the folds of his shirt, fastened every button, combed his hair, parted a strand, brushed to one side, and pomaded.In the end Quincy lent him the coat and made a promise.

"Rent [-] pfennigs a day. If it gets dirty, I will measure the area of ​​the stain and charge according to the difficulty of cleaning."

"We are about the same size." Michael sniffed at the neckline, there was a faint scent, unlike perfume, it might come from detergent.He hugged Quincy, sniffed his neck and face carefully, kissed him a few more times, and then reluctantly went out.

"Where did you borrow it from?" Oliver was full of interest, "I want to borrow one too."

"My landlord...'s relative." Michael lied, "A very decent gentleman, but very serious."

"Oh, seriously! The Germans think they can pretend they haven't invaded other countries as long as they put on a straight face. It's all fake, Mike, don't believe a word the Germans say."

"You're too prejudiced against them."

"I'm German myself, and I've had more Germans than you've ever had beer!"

"My neighbors are really annoying and don't like me."

The two happily scolded for a while, about the annoying boss, about the cold weather, about the sneaky Mueller family.There was an old German man who had been spying on them secretly, and Oliver scolded them in German.Michael held his wine glass and laughed, and Oliver said, "You look like an American! After all, the Germans always smile on the surface when they laugh."

"By the way, have you seen Quincy's sister recently?" Oliver put down his glass, blushing a little, "It's the lovely blonde girl."

"No." Michael lied the second time, "I don't know her well."

"She's really cute," Oliver exclaimed, "not like a German girl, did you notice, she likes to laugh."

"Okay, bro, she's already engaged, let's give it up!"

"Isn't it okay for me to simply sigh? All the cute girls in the world have their own names, why can't I meet a blonde girl who belongs to me?"

"Even if she's not engaged, she won't belong to you," Michael swallowed a sip of beer. "Their family is aristocratic, and they definitely don't look down on us ordinary people."

"So, it's all my grandfather's fault." Oliver shrugged and ordered another glass of wine. "Who made his father's father's father a farmer? I will die alone, all dragged down by this sad surname."

After hugging Oliver, Michael drove back.The snow on the side of the road was still too early to melt, so he stepped on the branches carefully.In the distance, the windows on the first floor of Quincy's house shone with gentle light, and accompanied by the birds returning late, a melancholy and low-pitched melody suddenly sounded.

"I'm back..." Michael took off his coat and held it in his arms, "Check and check, I'm very careful, but I'm not sure—"

Quincy took one look at him and continued playing the piece.Michael sat behind him, closing his eyes and listening.Perhaps he was slightly dizzy from the alcohol.The notes hit the eardrums, shaking the nerves, and there seemed to be a quiet sea in front of my eyes... the gray beach, the deep black reef, and the sea, shining with silver light, and the foam was white...

"Asleep?" The music stopped abruptly.Michael opened his eyes and rubbed the corners of his eyes, "No, I think it's very pleasant... It made me hallucinate." He said honestly, "I saw the sea."

"The sea?" Quincy smiled. If Oliver saw it with his own eyes, he would have said contemptuously that this was the authentic "German smile". "Only the sea?"

"And," Michael blinked hard, "and, you."

Quincy didn't smile this time.He took off the hat on Michael's head, turned it over, and shook it in front of Michael's nose, "Sir, the tune is not for nothing."

"Okay." Michael reached for his pocket. "Here's twenty pfennigs... rent money. Then..."

He dumped all the money in his wallet—bills, coins, dollars, marks—into the hat. "There is a certificate of deposit, but—"

Quincy picked out a twenty-finny piece and took a five-fenney piece.

"It's all for you," Michael shoved the hat to him, "take it."

"That's all I play," said Quincy. "Five pfennies is enough."

Perhaps influenced by that song, Michael's heart seemed to swell in a circle, jumping wildly in his chest, trying to find an exit.His face must have been red, his ears were hot, and the veins on his forehead were throbbing. "You're fucking taller than me, really." Michael snapped Quincy's hand and dragged him onto the couch and pushed him down.Quincy didn't resist, didn't make a sound, just lay there quietly.Michael brushed back the blond hair from Quincy's forehead, which fell limply at home in the Germans without pomade.Those eyes are so blue, like the deep sea in the moonlight... that is the sea... the gray beach, the black reef, the sea, silvery, and the white foam of the waves...

"Maybe I have a cold, it's hot," he pressed his forehead to Quincy's dejectedly, "Fuck, it's my father's fault... Old Mike is so short... Batty calves are puny... ...your nose is taller than mine too..."

"Fool," said Quincy softly.

"Don't talk." Michael kissed his beautifully formed lips. If he could, he wanted to kiss him like this forever, kiss him forever, and make him his own.The heartbeat is getting faster and faster, breathing is getting harder and harder, and the kiss is getting harder and harder.He has a kind of panic, but also a kind of joy.This feeling came up once, and it made Michael happy and sad. "I might be going crazy." He kissed Quincy's eyes carelessly, "Your German wine must be poisoned..."

Quincy clutched the three Finney coins, a small piece of skin was cut at the corner of his mouth, "Fool."