Work Header

bringt es seiner liebsten hin

Work Text:

Richard grumbles to himself, it's hot and it's dusty and when he swipes at his sweaty face his hand comes away covered in dirt. Paul says he's sulking, which is absolute nonsense. He isn't sulking in the slightest, Schneider says he agrees with Paul and Richard feels terribly ganged up on. He isn't sulking, it's just that Till hasn't really spoken to him all day and it's just a little bit aggravating.

He's well aware that he is a grown adult on the wrong side of fifty, but he's waited a very long time to get into this with Till and now he's not even acknowledging him. He's too distracted by the kids and asking endless questions of the actors and then listening to them talk very intently. He does it all the time of course, he likes to make everyone on set feel equal and welcome and everyone knows Till turns into a giant puppy around children. They always gravitate towards him which he adores, it's very sweet watching them interact really. 

Great, now Richard feels guilty as well as grumpy for wishing Till would stop showing the kids the cheetahs or teaching them funny German words or just generally being everyone's adopted grandpa and just pay attention to him.

He's distracted for a little while by filming a segment of the video that involves shooting a rifle at Flake which is terribly good fun. Then Flake asks him if he was taking out his sulking on him, Richard just rolls his eyes and asks sweetly if they can film that section again. Flake very wisely shuts up.

Later the filming day begins to draw to a close and Richard is exhausted, his energy is ebbing and he really just wants to fall into his plush hotel bed and sleep for a while. Till still hasn't really paid any attention to him beyond a quick smile, a couple of hurried words and a squeeze of the shoulder in passing. He's aware that he's being ridiculous, he never wanted them to be in each other's back pockets but being largely ignored is bruising his ego somewhat.

It's as Richard is shoving bits and pieces into his bag, phone, earphones and so on, that he notices Till hovering nearby. He's got his hands behind his back and he's smiling faintly, all of his attention finally focused on Richard. He's not going to let him off so easily though, so Richard pointedly ignores him and continues throwing things into his bag. Till doesn't seem to register his annoyance though and just waits patiently, head tilted to the side curiously. 

Richard stands up straight and sighs. "Finally remembered I exist have you?" He complains a little more coldly that he intended. Till's shoulders drop slightly and his smile disappears, replaced by a worried twist of his mouth. Richard rubs his hand over his eyes, once again smearing dust around that he's sure he'll never get rid of. He knows Till didn't do any of this on purpose, he's just being himself and Richard feels bad for making him feel bad. 

"Sorry." He says as gently as he can manage. "I'm just tired, long day." 

Till's apprehension seems to fade at that, though he does offer Richard a wry smile. "I haven't helped have I?" He asks with a little more insight than Richard was really expecting.

Richard rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "Well, you spent the entire day away from me, I was lonely." 

Till's expression turns sheepish and he shifts on the spot. With a flourish he produces a ridiculous pink flower from behind his back and presents it to Richard like the most precious of gifts. "I'm sorry." He says quietly. "I didn't forget you, I just got distracted."

Richard blinks, a little taken aback. They're not really flowers people, but Till is being so sincere and holding the bloom out to him like it's a proposal (and Richard stomps down that traitorous part of his brain.) So he takes the flower, a little bemused and a lot warm and fuzzy. He holds it to his nose and sniffs, it smells sweet and a little musky and it reminds him so intensely of Till, he closes his eyes and momentarily forgets how to breathe. 

When he opens them again, he finds that Till's still watching him, apprehension rolling off him in waves. Richard closes the already narrow gap between them and throws his arms around Till's neck, the flower still clutched in his hand. Till relaxes almost immediately in his arms, his own wrapping around Richard's waist and pulling him close. 

Richard leans into him, pressing his face against Till's neck. The flower tickles his cheek, an awkward gift somewhat awkwardly given but so perfect all the same. He sighs contentedly, brushing his lips against Till's thundering pulse point. Till nudges him backwards ever so slightly and with one hand tilts Richard's chin upwards. Richard beats him to it though and presses his mouth to Till's, a chaste, gentle kiss that Till chases when it ends.

Richard swats at him with the flower affectionately before disentangling himself and stepping away. "Come on, I'm sure they're waiting for us."

Till glances over Richard's shoulder and raises an eyebrow, then out of nowhere he sweeps him back into his arms and honest to god dips him like they're in the classic movie they're dressed for. Richard squawks in shock but Till smothers it with his mouth, bending down and kissing him so incredibly tenderly. Richard is helpless and can only cling to him, mindful of the flower, and kiss him back with a muffled mewl. 

When Till sets him back upright again, Richard's sure his face is flaming. He has a very quick glance around but finds them to be alone, much to his relief.

"You." He grumbles with no heat whatsoever, jabbing an index finger into Till's chest. "I… thank you for the flower, Till. And you're taking me to dinner tonight." He adds as an afterthought, it's the least he deserves, he's decided.

Till just beams and steals one last kiss from him before heading off to where the cars are waiting to take them back to their hotel. Richard watches him go, the flower still in his hand, feeling wistful and suitably romanced. He finishes putting his things together with a smile he knows is far too dreamy and will likely result in teasing, especially when accompanied by the earlier accusations of sulking and the presence of the flower, but he's not sure he cares. He bends to pick up his hat then follows Till to the car with a spring in his step, and his flower clutched to his chest. 

Predictably he receives plenty of gentle ribbing from his friends when they see him, but he's not so bothered. He just tangles his fingers with Till's, breathes in the scent of the flower and smiles to himself as the world drifts by.