Battle of the Rhine

Michael spent a tormented week in a state of emotional confusion.On Friday, after get off work, he rushed to the train station to buy a ticket for the nearest train to Munich.Then he found that he had brought nothing but his passport and wallet, a change of clothes, toiletries... It didn’t matter, he stood in the evening wind waiting for the bus, the sunset dyed the distant peaks red, and almost all the tired Germans were expressionless.

It was already eight o'clock in the evening when we arrived in Munich. If we went to knock on the door at this time, the Muller family might call the police.This brood of chubby neighbors was always overzealous about Quincy's affairs, and, above all, none of them had a good opinion of Michael.Michael found a hotel to stay, lay on the bed after taking a shower, his head closed his eyelids heavily.The Frenchman, he thought of Roshua's face, the pretentious, European face, obviously looking down on Americans, trying to pretend to be amiable.The French are especially good at it. It seems that someone mentioned it contemptuously, maybe Tim... "When you see the German soldiers, you salute quickly, that cowardly! How many French people have you seen who rose up to rebel? They are also embarrassed to sing "Marseillaise"! 'Forward, sons and daughters of the motherland! Rise up, a glorious day awaits you!'..."

But Quinnessy liked Roshua, didn't he?They seem very close.Roshua took Quinnessy's hand, dark eyes gleaming.He is good at taking care of people, right?Coffee, tea, comfy sofas in the living room, rugs, bits and pieces to decorate the fireplace... PHOTOS!Yes, those pictures...Quinnessy was wearing climbing clothes, did they go climbing?What Jungfraujoch is that? ... They also went to visit Neuschwanstein Castle together. Will Quincy tell him the rumors about Ludwig II?That talented king was gay.Roshua must have given Quincy a good answer, such as, "I don't care." Or, "I'm gay too." Or it may be more perfect-"I love you."

I love you.Quincy said those three words, four years ago, in the dead of winter. "I," he pointed to himself, with a bit of pain, embarrassment and grievance on his handsome face, "I—love—you".

How can there be love between men?Michael was really terrified.Looking back now, he just wanted to slap himself a few times.Quincy looked at him pitifully, trying to salvage the relationship between them.Michael ruthlessly refused and drove him to the third floor.Doesn't he know?Quincy had frequent nightmares and convulsed with terror in her deep sleep.Michael Fiennes is such an asshole, he deserves to go to hell...to be roasted on a fire and served as the devil's dinner.No, maybe the devil thinks he's dirty...

Let's go back!A voice sounded, go back, go back to the United States, and don't disturb Quincy's life again.It's a good way to go back, back to America, and linger alone.Decades later, on Victory Day, Sergeant Michael Fiennes would receive a medal in recognition of his tenacious vitality.He changed into the uniform of the year and went to the celebration.There were a lot of people, old soldiers, noisy young people, music, banners, and he saw a familiar figure in the field gray uniform of the Wehrmacht, with the Iron Cross on his chest - Karl von Quinnessy , he is here too!Followed by that Frenchman like a shadow...

"Mike," Quincy said, holding out his hand.I haven't seen him for so long, his hair has turned light gray, and his eyes are still clear.Despite his age, he still retains his original handsomeness.Some girls approached curiously, "Were you a pilot before?"

"Carl's height, being a pilot is too wronged." Roshua took out the photo album with a smile, "Look, isn't my Carl extremely beautiful?"

"My Carl", Michael felt sour, Quincy should be his college student... Who made him give up?For Quinnessy, however, Michael's escape was a good thing.He looked so refreshed and tidy, and it was obvious that he was well looked after.Damn it, Michael sighed, taking off the new medal, "Here," he pinned the medal to Quincy's chest, next to the Iron Cross, "here you are."

"It's yours," said Quincy slowly, "I . . . can't have it."

"Put it on, put it on." Michael waved his hand, "I have nothing to give you..."

……

eight o'clock.Michael woke up and wiped his face, which was wet and covered with sweat.He took a shower and finished his breakfast in a daze.The flowers in the garden in the middle of the street swayed in the wind, and the pigeons flew back and forth.Michael sat on a stone flower bed and watched a yellow tabby climb the windowsill of a house.Is Quincy up at this time?Would he sleep in the Frenchman's arms, dreaming of maiden beauty?

The daylight moved slowly, the morning passed, the noon passed, and the afternoon was almost gone.A few times Michael stood up, made up his mind to leave; reached the corner only to turn back.He met Quincy!Even if it's just 5 minutes, apologize to him...at least leave a blessing.He escaped once and cannot be a second deserter.Thinking of this, Michael walked towards the familiar house, and nervously rang the bell hanging outside the fence.

Unexpectedly, Roshua was not in the house. "He's back in France. He usually has to go to work, and we only see each other during holidays." Quincy said calmly, "I thought you would come here earlier."

"Where is Arden?" Michael looked around, "Isn't it your dog?"

"It's mine. I let Charlie take it away temporarily... I think you must want to talk to me." Quincy sat down.The curtains in the living room were drawn tightly to prevent sunlight from entering. "Americans love to 'talk', although you don't really care what other people really think—"

"I care about you," said Michael hastily, unshaven, his shirt wrinkled and soaped, and he was terribly scruffy. "I...I made you angry last week, sorry, Karl."

Quincy shrugged, "You care about me?" He poured a glass of wine, the liquid was dark red, "No, it's not me you care about. I know what you care about, because that's all you care about..." He sipped his red wine , rubbing his face with his hands, "What do you want to hear? How did I get on with Gabriel? Well, I'll satisfy you——In the winter of 1952, Christmas was coming, I was lonely and bored, so I went to Paris to watch a play, Watching "Salome", he was sitting on my left. We didn't talk. I'm a shameless homosexual, but no matter how horny I was, I would never ask strangers if they want to fuck me... Later, in the spring, I went to the Rhine, and I ran into him again. He offered to strike up a conversation." He paused for a few seconds, took a breath, and then continued, "I can see why he is. I was young and a little Remnants of... charisma. I'm an uninteresting person, only attractive in appearance, and I know it. He wants to buy me a coffee. I thought, why go around? Better to be straight. So, I said,' Do you want to sleep with me?' ... and then we went back to his rented house. He rented a house over there and went on vacation."

Michael clenched his hands tightly, and tightened more and more, "Hmm." He made a nasal sound, but in fact he couldn't make any other meaningful syllables, "Um——"

"It was a sunny day, and the weather was fine. We did it once in the afternoon, and it wasn't very successful. At night, he fucked me again. This time it was good, and I slept soundly at night." Quincy smiled. "I stayed with him for a few days and we used to have... sex. Nothing wrong with that, right? Sex was pleasant. Then I went back to Munich and didn't say goodbye to him. No need, seriously What 'goodbye', it seems that both of them care about this relationship..."

"I didn't expect him to come. I didn't ask, he told me that he saw my work ID when he took my clothes to be cleaned. Gabriel apologized and showed me his. Funny, he showed me His passport, work permit, driver's license, club membership card... At that time, my spirit was terrible and I couldn't control myself. Charlie was very sad. I didn't want my last relative to be sad. I was going to the hospital. Gabriel read After medical school, and just on vacation, plenty of time. He offered to take care of me. That's it, Mike. He took care of me, and I slept with him. Pretty much the same as before—you take care of me, and I'll give you the sweet treats. I Not angry or ashamed because that's all I've got left with 'worth'."

Michael shook his head, and said with difficulty and woodenly, "No, Carl, you can't—"

"Four years," Quincy brushed the wine glass with his white fingers, "As you can see, I have also reached middle age. My 'worth' is getting less and less as my body decays, and I guess Gabriel will soon You are leaving me. You are more picky than him, so go back, Mike, you will not get what you want from me." He drank the glass of wine, "Or, do you want to sleep again Let me take a look once? Yes, but please leave immediately after the sexual intercourse is over, okay? Don’t come to me again—can you promise me?”