Schatzi

27

Jens sat on the edge of the bottom bunk, waiting silently next to the other two men sitting beside him. His leg bounced anxiously as he watched the door, not taking his eyes off it for even a second. He was waiting for Peter to walk back in, late but okay. But he didn't.

He hadn't been there at dinner, had never returned from working. In fact, none of his group had.

There was a deep worry eating away at him as the minutes ticked by. Soon, the hour or so of free time they had would be over and he'd have to accept that Peter wasn't coming back. If he didn't return back for the night, he was probably dead.

He was about to give up when the door opened and Max walked in, pushed harshly by the guard behind him. He scowled and walked into the barracks, completely ignoring Jens as he limped past him.

Jens jumped up from the bunk and reached out, grabbing Max's wrist.

"Hey, where's Peter?"

He'd never got on with Max in the 2 years he'd known him. He considered Max unnecessarily violent and confrontational, and Max considered him pretentious and too privileged compared to the other gay men living in the camp- and he'd also made it no secret that he saw him as a whore as well.

Max ignored him completely and tried to shake him off, but Jens persisted, only tightening his grip on Max's sleeve.

"Tell me. I need to know where he is."

"Jens, fuck off," Max snarled, twisting around to swat at his hand, finally managing to get rid of him. Jens only followed him though, asking repeatedly as Max dragged his feet over to his bunk.

"If he's dead, just tell me he's dead. Tell me what happened," Jens whispered, staring down at Max as he flopped face down into the pillow, putting his hands over his ears to block Jens out. "I need to know, Max. Please."

"Jens!"

Jens looked up when he heard his name called from the other side of the barrack and saw Friedrich standing there, arms crossed as he stared down the row of bunks at Jens before beckoning slowly.

"Daddy's calling," Max mumbled, turning his head to glance up at Jens, glaring darkly.

The other men in the room were staring, a couple wolf whistling as Jens trudged slowly towards Friedrich, refusing to keep his head down as he walked, flipping off anyone he caught whistling. His cheeks flushed pink but he didn't care.

He forced a small smile when he reached Friedrich's side, expression strained as his arm snaked around his waist. Usually he wouldn't care, but he was not in a good mood, what with Peter not coming back, and he didn't want more relentless bullying from the others because of Friedrich's public affections.

The arm around his waist steered him away from the main room and to Friedrich's, keeping him close and secure.

"What was that?" Jens snapped as soon as the door was closed, spinning around to lean his back against it, pointing at Friedrich accusingly.

"What was what?" He said, taking a small step back from Jens who could be pretty scary when he was angry.

"You, showing me off in front of everyone out there!"

"Jens, they all know already," Friedrich tried to reason. "What's the harm in this? They treat you better this way, knowing you're under my protection."

"No! They don't! Sure, no one can beat me up but they all hate me! No one would help me if anything happened to me out there. I don't have their support."

"You don't need their support. You've got me," Friedrich said, walking forward and grabbing Jens' wrists, pinning them in to his body and leaning in close. He kissed him quickly, trying to comfort him. "You don't need them."