Work Text:
Micha
„I really don’t understand why you don’t wanna sing that song anymore. The fans love it, it always was a brilliant live song and its lyrics aren’t even that crappy. And that’s saying something considering it’s from the Eighties.”
“Leave it alone, Felse.” Jan replied harshly turning away, Bela raised his eye brows puzzled and followed him.
“Why this song?” he asked letting his concern slip into his voice.
He saw Jan freeze for a moment before he recovered and held his gaze,
“Is it really this important?”
“If it is for you, then yeah, it’s that important to me.”
He could see Jan thinking, calculating his next move, then, after a while the blonde relaxed giving in.
“It doesn’t matter any way. Listen to the lyrics, it was fun to write them back then, but it’s not too funny singing them anymore today.”
“Micha, der Cowboy, reitet einsam durch den Sonnenuntergang
er ist unrasiert und staubig, denn sein Tag war ziemlich lang.
er hat seine süße Braut verlassen und er denkt an sie,
und er spielt auf der Gitarre diese kleine Melodie!“
Bela quoted, “Nothing terrible there.“
“Really? Do I have to be so blunt and translate it for you? Isn’t it obvious?”
Bela looked at him in confusion, “you don’t mean to say. . .
You feel like you’re Micha, that’s ridiculous, Jan-“
„Is it?
“Micha reitet schon seit Wochen, von der Sonne tief gebräunt,
seit er seine Braut verließ, ist sein Pferd sein einz´ger Freund.
Micha fühlt sich frei und Kuhmist, als sein Gaul so mit ihm rennt,
und er spielt dies eine Lied, weil er gar kein andres kennt!“
So?“
„So?“
„I’m pouring my heart out, Felse, the least you could do is try.“
“Okay, so. . . You’re Micha?”
“Obviously.”
“The bride is a girl?”
“That’d be too easy.”
“Of course it isn’t easy, it can never be easy with you, can it?”
Farin gave him a warm smile and Bela sighed.
“Try the tune,”
“The tune is the music obviously, duh.” Bela replied and felt smug when Farin nodded affirmatively.
“So, you ran away into freedom, travelling I suppose, thinking that your love for music is enough. You left the girl behind, - so if she isn’t a girl- then it’s . . .” he hesitated saying what he thought, not really wanting to hurt Jan, but the other man held his gaze and made him say it, “it’s love, isn’t it? Love in general, companionship, relations, friends, family. You think you exchanged your relationship with freedom, Jan that’s stupid even for you- you’re not-“
“Micha ist mit seinem Klepper schon seit Wochen unterwegs.
Daß er nur dies eine Lied kann, geht ihm tierisch auf den Keks!
Er zerschlägt seine Gitarre, denn das Lied, das macht ihn krank!
Tritt sein Pferd und reitet wütend in den Sonnenuntergang!“
Jan answered instead.
”You didn’t trade your love for freedom, there are heaps of people who love you. The fans-“
“-I’m not talking about them.”
“Fine then, your friends, what happened to them? You are always so proud, having only a few but very close friends, people who’d do everything for you, people you have known for . . ages.”
He stopped, he wasn’t quite sure if he counted himself as one of them or if Jan did, for that matter, he hoped. . . but. . .
“Yes, it’s all very neat, I’d catch a grenade for you, etc. Picture perfect and I can call them in the middle of the night. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t get you then, what troubles you that much? And why? You were always content to be the loner, weren’t you?”
Bela tried to figure him out, but it was so much harder than it used to be. Jan kept looking down staring into space and he couldn’t make eye contact. It was all so strange for Jan. Jan never looked away, Jan never felt insecure, Jan always knew what he wanted. He was one of the most reflecting people he knew, damnit Jan had known exactly what he wanted from the moment he met him in this little disco in Spandau. It was a hunch, but Bela was someone who trusted his gut feeling a lot more than his mind.
“I used to be able to read you like a book, you know?” he laughed quietly , trying to sound as familiar and warm as he could.
“No one could. No one. But I could read your mind, I knew what you thought. And I always thought. . . I thought it was because we were so fucking close and shared everything. . .And when we grew up and grew apart it was okay because that’s what happens when you get older. Your friendship changes, - from what I have read the emotions of a teenager are way different to an adult, and it makes sense, it does- and parents don’t have best friends anymore who know what they are thinking they have their partners and their life and their responsibilities. All that stuff, right?”
Jan just nodded,
“No. It wasn’t about that, because I never wanted to change, and we grew apart and didn’t spend so much time together and I couldn’t read your mind and you couldn’t read mine, and we became so different. . .
“And from brothers we became friends and then acquaintances and then merely colleagues. And though it changed after the break, it is what every friendship has changed into, hasn’t it? With them having their own families and their own life. . . you still like your friends but you rarely see them and you hardly ever know what moves them.”
“Yeah,” Jan answered, “something like that.”
Bela had walked closer, he had reached Jan now, but Jan was still looking at the ground.
"But you are wrong again. All those years ago I could read your mind, but not because we were so close and spent so much time together, - well we did that, but it was only the symptom. I knew what was going round in your head because you wanted me to.”
He reached out and touched Jan’s arm through his sweatshirt. He felt Jan flinch at his touch but went on nevertheless.
“It’s buried but it isn’t gone. Can’t you see? All your friends with family and lives, they still love you, it’s all still there, compressed and buried like a seed but still inside them.”
Slowly he let his arm wander upwards, felt the soft fabric underneath his finger tips until he reached Jan’s neck, without hesitation he continued on the soft skin, let his warm fingers slide further up to his hair, slowly making small circles caressing him.
“You’ve dropped your shields so far that I can read your mind again, and I’m babbling so you know mine. . . And you like it, this feeling of my hand in your hair. . .”
He really did, Bela realized Jan relaxed against his fingers, tension slowly vanishing, he stepped closer, stepped into Jan’s private space his belly was touching Jan’s he brought the other hand up, close still, in an almost hug- but more intimate.
“And you hate the music as much as you love it, because it’s all you’ve got and it’s wonderful and it should be more than enough but it isn’t even close to, too” he drew Jan down and let his lips brush against his ears, this was instinct, but he knew he was right, knew that Jan wanted him to.
“And you think I’m that stupid horse. . . You don’t know why, and you shouldn’t . . . because there’s so much that doesn’t fit, and I have never been. . .” his voice almost broke “and I have never been reliable and entered and left your life so often, but still . . . still you think it’s me, I’m your stupid horse, I’m all you’ve got and if there’s something like salvation, then it’ll be with me.”