Schatzi

9

Eli looked in the mirror in their bedroom, the light from the candle on the dresser casting flickering shadows over his face, reflecting in the glasses perched on his nose.
"I hate it."

"Shut up, you look gorgeous," Peter said, hugging him from behind.

"You're so blind. And my hair looks weird all pulled back. And I would never wear these clothes ever in my life."

"It looks hot. I've always thought my glasses would suit you more than they do me. And you can actually see your face with your hair out of the way. You dress too boring most of the time."

"It's too tight," Eli complained.

"No, it's the right size, everything you wear is just too big. You look hot, now shut up and let's go."

Eli frowned and the person in the mirror did the same.

Peter really hadn't changed much, but he felt very different. He didn't have his fringe to hide behind, the baggy clothes that blended in with the crowd. He looked smart, sophisticated. He felt like he could fit in with Peter and his college friends. For once.

He turned around on the little stool and crossed his arms. "Can we talk about the name? I don't think this is all necessary."

"I think it is," Peter said as he put his coat on. "It's just a bit of fun. Don't tell me it doesn't feel good to be someone else for a night, just for fun."

"Yeah, but 'Otto'? Seriously? I like my name."

Peter paused then walked over and knelt in front of Eli, taking his hands in his. "Don't think too deeply into this. Just trust me."

———

"Schatzi, calm down," Peter whispered. "They're going to love you. Who wouldn't?"

"Literally everyone," Eli muttered, running his fingers over the treasure chest pendant hung around his neck. "You'd be surprised."

"Shush," Peter mumbled as he knocked on the door.

Eli looked down when he felt Peter reach into his pocket to hold his hand, openly, in public. Peter smiled at him and squeezed his hand tightly before looking back to the door as it was opened. The men that stood there looked between both of them, and Eli had to admit he was shocked. They seemed to have no shame. The one furthest forward might as well have had no shirt on at all, he had it buttoned down so low. The other one had his head rested on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around his partners waist.

"Peter," the first one said, smiling widely. "You're late. We were beginning to think you weren't coming."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Jens," Peter smiled back, shaking the hand offered to him. 

"Come in, come in, before anyone sees," The one called Jens said, ushering them in. "So who's this?" He asked, looking Eli up and down.

"This is my boyfriend, Otto," Peter said, closing the door behind them. "Schatzi, this is Jens and Roland."

Eli couldn't help but be slightly phased by the name Peter was calling him, but he smiled and greeted the the two men who looked a few years older than him.

"Come through," Roland said, not letting go of Jens as he led them into the living room. "Everyone's already here."

When they were a few steps ahead, Eli leant up on his tiptoes to whisper in Peter's ear. "Are they all like that?"

"Like what?" Peter whispered back.

"So...open."

"Well, sort of, but Jens and Roland are just massive sluts. Most of them are pretty normal, just drunk."