Chapter 14
Shall We Dance?
There wasn’t much to do when you’re cooped up in a carriage all day. It was a six-day journey to Frankfurt and finding ways to occupy the hours of travel was a daily challenge. They swapped stories about their families, snacked on food they bought at each stop, and sometimes just napped. Their nightly stops no longer included the luxury inns, but were now small, peasant villages that left them hard pressed to find accommodations.
Klaus did all the talking since the villagers only spoke German. Klaus even tried teaching Magnus some German phrases to pass the time. But Magnus found the words didn’t roll off his tongue as easy as they did for Klaus, and all he was saying was gibberish. Francois could speak German also, but his native language was French. Magnus found learning French was much easier, the words came out softer and more fluid.
At one stop, they only got a tiny room with two single beds. They had put the thin mattresses together on the floor so they could sleep snuggled up to keep warm. The nights were getting colder now that they were climbing in elevation and being surrounded by more mountains and thicker forests.
Even with all of this going on, there were long stretches of silence where Magnus stared out the window as the carriage traveled on. The pristine landscape was all new and beautiful, yet Magnus hardly noticed. He was deep in thought, trying to figure out why he had this nagging feeling that there was something different going on between them. He first felt the difference when they left the hot springs.
Ah, the hot springs. Just thinking about how his fantasy had played out brought a smile of satisfaction to his lips and a blush to his cheeks. It had all been so perfect. Yet, every time he thought about it, Klaus’s face was right there in his mind. First and foremost was Klaus’s voice, husky and low, and so sincere. ‘I love you, Magnus’, repeated over and over in his head. It was the second time Klaus had declared his love for him on this trip. But at the hot springs, it felt different to Magnus. He had been swept away in their hot, lusty threesome, carried to a new level of passion that raged through his body like a wildfire. But when Klaus said those three words, while he coaxed Magnus to come together with him, the world simply disappeared. Gone was the tense, guarded Klaus. All he saw was Klaus’s sweet, tender expression. There was only Klaus and himself, and it was no longer a fantasy orgy. It wasn’t just another fuck fest. That’s when Magnus realized Klaus was making love to him. Klaus was open to him and vulnerable in the most intimate way possible. Magnus wasn’t even aware of Francois coming in his ass. All he knew was Klaus, and all he wanted was Klaus. Magnus decided that maybe he was the one that wasn’t the same. He was the one that was different, different because he realized he was in love.
“What are you thinking about, Magnus?” Klaus asked softly, as if he didn’t want to intrude on Magnus’s private thoughts.
“Hm? Oh, just wondering how much longer before we get to Frankfurt,” Magnus answered, still smiling as he looked over at Klaus.
“Keep watching out the window. You’ll start to see the city soon. You can tell we’re getting close by how crowded the road is now,” Klaus explained. “Frankfurt is as big as Dresden, maybe bigger. We will be arriving in the middle of the Merchant Festival, so it will be fun for you.”
Magnus perked up. “I love festivals. Will there be music?”
“There will be music everywhere,” Francois assured him, “And lots of beer.”
“Hell, yeah. Sounds like one big party,” Magnus laughed. “I’m in.”
“We’ll go out on the town tonight, baby. You’ll look gorgeous in the new suit I bought you,” Klaus reached over and squeezed Magnus’s hand.
Francois was glad to see Magnus so excited, as the city came into view. Watching Magnus helped him control the contempt he felt for Klaus. Every time he heard him call Magnus, “baby,” he wanted to strangle Klaus. What made him feel worse was Magnus seemed to like it. Still, Francois wasn’t ready to throw in the fucking towel just yet. There was something he could do with Magnus that he knew Klaus was incapable of. Where there was music, there was dancing, and Francois was an excellent dancer. Tonight was his night to shine and show Magnus the time of his life.
Magnus stood on the balcony of their luxurious hotel room taking in the breathtaking view. To his left the setting sun cast an orange glow across the waters of the Main River. To his right the city of Frankfurt seemed to spread endlessly, with tall buildings four and five stories high. City homes were butted up against each other sharing common walls, with sharply slanted roofs ending in high peaks as if reaching for the clouds. Some had turrets and some had dormers, but they all were decorated in gingerbread facades, giving the city a cheerful, welcoming feeling. Beyond the city, directly in front of him, Magnus saw the mountains towering over the landscape. Magnus soaked in the grandeur of it all. There was nothing like this where he was from in Connecticut. Magnus let out a sigh of contentment, feeling fortunate to have this room since every hotel, inn, and hostel was booked full due to the influx of visitors, here for the festival.
Since arriving, they enjoyed lunch in the dining room, a bath and a shave, and then spent the afternoon wandering through the maze of colorful merchant tents that filled the city square. After a sumptuous dinner they returned to their room to dress for their evening on the town.
“Are you ready, Magnus?” Francois stood in the doorway, eyes wide and sparkling, and a big smile on his face when Magnus turned to face him. Magnus looked exquisite in the silvery-gray linen suit. His pale blue shirt was open at the neckline, exposing the smooth skin of his neck and collar bones, and showing off the glittering sapphires in his white-velvet choker. Francois wore a white turtle-neck sweater, a dark blue jacket and pants.
“Yes, I’ve been ready,” Magnus started walking then stopped, cocking his head to one side. “What?”
“I have to admit, Klaus does know how to dress you,” Francois confessed. “You look perfect.”
“You’re looking quite handsome yourself,” Magnus said, feeling his ears flush pink. “Turtlenecks are always flattering on you.”
“Magnus,” Klaus interrupted, taking Magnus by the hand and leading him away. “This night waits for no one, and I know just the place to start.”
Klaus led them down the street from their hotel to the first beer garden. Still holding Klaus’s hand, Magnus felt a bit self-conscious when he saw the looks they were getting from the people they passed. Klaus wasn’t usually so bold in public. Magnus glanced at Klaus; at how handsome he was in the black coat and pants, and the black vest over his shirt, that was the same silvery-gray as Magnus’s suit. To Magnus, they looked like a couple. Magnus squeezed Klaus’s hand tighter and ignored the raised eyebrows and disapproving looks. Here and there he did see some smiles and nods from other gentlemen, and even a few ladies. Deciding he really didn’t give a fuck what anybody thought, Magnus held his head up proudly, clinging to Klaus’s hand.
The first beer garden, along the river promenade, was already lively with loud music and a packed crowd. Large pots of flowers and shrubs lined each side, next to rows of tables. Overhead, a long canopy covered everything, with brightly lit oil lamps hanging from the wooden frame. At the opposite end was a stage, where the musicians played a fast-paced tune that had dancers swirling and hands clapping to the rhythm. Magnus already loved the party atmosphere. They made their way down the center aisle until Klaus found them an empty table.
“Evening gentlemen, what can I get you?” A tall, smiling maid asked.
“What do you have?” Klaus replied, smiling back.
“Well,” the maid grinned, “We have red ale, dark ale, light ale… dark beer, regular beer and wine from Wurzburg. So, what’ll be your pleasure?”
“That’s quite a list,” Francois laughed. “I’ll have the regular beer. What about you, Magnus?”
“Um… regular beer sounds fine.”
“Great, we’ll all have regular beer,” Klaus told the maid. “Just bring a large pitcher and three mugs.”
“Got it. Be right back.” The maid went off but came back shortly, carrying a large tray with their order. Klaus paid for the first round and tipped the maid, who curtsied and ran off to another table.
The crowd was noisy and loosened up from drinking, the music was loud and happy, and Magnus was enjoying every minute of it. Often, they had to lean into each other to talk or hear what the other was saying. They finished off the first pitcher of beer in no time and were on to the second when the dancers started forming two lines down the center aisle. Magnus laughed, clapping along in time with the music, as the people paired off and danced down the line.
Francois saw his chance and got up from his seat.
“Shall we dance, Magnus?” Francois asked, holding out his hand as an invitation.
Magnus’s eyes lit up at once, “Oh yes, let’s dance!” Taking Francois’s hand, he let himself be led away to join the line of dancers.
When their turn came, Francois grabbed Magnus by the hand and spun him around, then pulled Magnus into his arms and danced with him down the aisle, finishing with another spin at the end of the line. They repeated this over and over, laughing and clapping with the crowd until the music stopped.
Klaus drained the second pitcher and called for a third while he watched Francois dancing with Magnus… his Magnus. Never in his life did he regret not learning to dance, until now.
Out of breath and panting, Francois and Magnus came back to the table. They flopped down in their chairs laughing, poured themselves some beer, and clinked their mugs together in a toast. Hearing Magnus’s laughter brought a smile to Klaus’s otherwise sullen looking face. Just as Klaus was about to say something, the music started up again in a slower paced, sweet melody that beckoned couples to dance.
Francois wasted no time and was up on his feet. He took Magnus by the hand and pulled him into his embrace, then waltzed him into the dancing crowd. At first, Magnus was a little apprehensive. Their lively, spirited dancing was one thing, but the closeness of slow dancing was more intimate, and Magnus felt exposed to the world.
Francois felt Magnus’s tension beneath his arm and pressed their clasped hands to his chest, bringing his cheek to softly touch Magnus’s cheek, “Look there, to your right,” He whispered into Magnus’s ear.
Magnus looked over to see two male couples dancing, then another couple that were ladies. He relaxed into Francois’s arms as they glided through the crowd, thinking the combination of booze and music was the perfect mix for easing social norms.
“I’m having a great time, thank you,” Magnus smiled, bringing his head back to gaze into Francois’s warm brown eyes.
“I love making you happy. Your smile is priceless,” Francois told him, sincerely.
“I can’t wait to dance in Paris,” Magnus declared, his blue eyes sparkling with delight. For a few seconds he pictured Klaus’s face looking back at him and thought, how perfect it would be if Klaus knew how to dance.
“Of course, Magnus, I look forward to dancing with you in Paris,” Francois laughed, pressing his cheek against Magnus’s cheek once again. “I think we could have fun together for a long time to come.”
“I think Klaus will have something to say about that,” Magnus said, but he was really thinking about his own feelings. Francois was a lot of fun, and he did care about him. But more and more, his heart was pulling him toward Klaus.
“Klaus will just have to learn to share,” Francois joked, knowing full well that Klaus loved Magnus, and never wanted to share him.
Klaus was moving his head back and forth, trying to see where Magnus and Francois were dancing, but they were lost in the crowd. Suddenly a tall blonde woman, with broad shoulders and large, ample breasts was pulling him out of his chair and into a dancing embrace.
“Come on, handsome, you and me are going to dance,” the woman said, obviously giving Klaus no chance to refuse.
Klaus stumbled to his feet and almost fell, but the woman caught him and pulled him in a tight hug, close to her chest. To Klaus’s horror, his face was buried in her boobs as she hummed to the music, waltzing him around the dance floor. He hesitantly put his free arm around the woman’s waist just to keep his balance. The feather in Klaus’s hat swung this way and that way, slapping at dancers’ shoulders and poking noses. Someone in the crowd swatted the feather, knocking Klaus’s hat sideways and down over his good eye. He tried to pull his arm from the woman’s waist so he could push his hat back on straight, but the woman grabbed his arm back.
“Here, honey, I’ll get that,” she grinned and pushed his hat back, then crushed him back into her boobs.
Unfortunately, she pushed the hat too far back so when she twirled around the next time his hat flew off.
“Fuck,” Klaus groaned into her boobs. As he watched his hat being kicked and trampled under the dancer’s feet, he knew there would be no salvaging it.
When the music ended the woman walked Klaus back to his seat where he slumped into his chair, feeling his dignity had been trampled on as much as his hat.
“Thanks for the dance, handsome. I think you look better without the hat,” she laughed and walked away.
It wasn’t long before Magnus and Francois returned to their table and a very dejected looking Klaus.
“Klaus, what’s wrong?” Magnus asked, genuinely concerned. “And, where’s your hat?”
“I’ll tell you later. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
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