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“Are you enjoying yourself?” Flake rested his head on his balled fists with adoration in his eyes and a loving smile. A few strands of his long hair fell in front of his face.


Till gestured for Flake to wait until he finished chewing and swallowed with an audible sigh.


“Yes, this is so good! It’s heavenly! Who even taught you to cook like this?”


Flake didn’t answer, but continued gazing at Till- his expression a mix of adoration, care and… excitement? Till couldn’t help but look twice- were his eyes betraying him? Why would Flake be excited over him eating?

But, there it was . Like Flake took pleasure in seeing his lover eating, expressing his enjoyment. Strange. 


Well, he is one horny bastard , Till thought. 


“Also, I forgot to ask, Where did you go to get this wonderful meat from?”

"Oh, wherever I can. I'm not too picky from where I get my meat." Flake replied in an almost bored tone. He paused to put some potato on his fork. 


"Meat is meat after all."

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Agreed Till.


Flake gestured down at Till’s plate with a nod and asked; 


“Are you going to finish that?”


Till poked around with his fork for a bit, looking down at it all- the potatoes, the peas, the red wine sauce- and of course, the heavenly steak- a treat for all the senses.

He looked back up at Flake. Still that… strange smile.


“I’m feeling quite full, thanks,” Till admitted “-and I’d be getting fat if I ate all of this.” 


“I wouldn’t mind that.” Flake said. He continued; 

“Such a good boy, eating all my food so eagerly. I’d let you eat me up, even.” As Flake ended his sentence, his eyes clouded and he smiled slightly at the table.


Flake’s eyes got a glimmer of something sinister- hunger? - and Till could tell, he was meaning what he said. I’d gladly be eaten up , Flake said, in its literal sense .

Till shivered.


“No, no, I don’t think I would like that.” Till said hesitantly, a little worried of what Flake would say.

But Flake only laughed in response.

“Of course you wouldn’t .”


Till shivered again. Flake spoke in such a matter, Till felt his partner was challenging him- come eat me up, then, prove you can. Don’t disappoint me .


“Good boy. Eat up now, and we’ll be getting ready for dessert.” Flake said.


Till knew what that meant. Eagerly, he looked up, and asked Flake what they’d have.

Flake smirked and unbuttoned the button on the collar of his shirt.




Their dinners had almost always ended with them giving into desire and led to them tearing each other's clothes off and flake kissing him every inch of his skin almost reverently as if he was something to be worshipped.
  His favourite spot to kiss, however, was Till's neck, sometimes leaving biting kisses there. Till didn't mind though. The pleasant buzz of wine made everything feel so good. 

For such a skinny man with little to no muscle mass, his grip was quite firm, holding till to him as   if someone was going to take him away from him.
  Soon their kisses and gropes would turn heated. Their kisses turned into open mouthed, with them both kissing desperately while gasping into each other's mouths. Their gropes would turn into flat out scratches and soon that would escalate into them both stumbling into Flake’s bedroom with them equally as hard and Flake fucking him as though his life depended on it. 

Till loved having Flake inside of him, his warmth spreading soon after. It was a nice feel. It made him feel safe and... strangely comforted in a way.
Especially when Flake wrapped his arms around him and pressed him against his chest, when they were both sweaty and panting slightly. Till knew that Flake had loved him for a long while, and could tell by their making love- but he also sensed that there was more to Flake.
Something more sinister and ominous.

One night, Flake came home dirty and disheveled. The vague living room lights made it impossible for Till to tell what had stained Flake’s shirt. But, without better knowing, he didn’t bat an eye when Flake told him to look away. 

 He couldn’t help himself from indulging in all that Flake was- all that he did, all that he said- and fell into his embrace without complaints.

Flake had become bare-chested.

And from the wash room came a smell Till had never sensed that strongly;


With his speech muffled by sleep and Flake’s cold skin, Till clung to Flake’s shoulder to try and hoist his torso up. 

But Flake only pressed Till closer,so close , so close Till could feel Flake’s heart racing and every deep breath that shook his chest.

“Where have you been?” Till managed to get out.





Nowhere .” Flake spat. Till became worried- why was Flake upset?


“Come to bed?” Till whispered.


Flake was silent.


“I’ll be there in a minute.”


Till had an odd feeling in his chest. Why was Flake getting so defensive? Why was he coming home so late on most nights? A nasty thought came to his head as his eyes widened. Was Flake -? No . Flake wouldn't do that to him. Not when he adored him so much .


“Are you alright?" Asked Till softly.  "You look very stressed. Did something bad happen? Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”


“No, Till, my love. You can do nothing wrong .” Flake said, almost painfully. 


The way Flake said ‘wrong’, like he spat out the word and it wretched upon his tongue, made Till stiffen. What’s up with him ?


What? ” Flake said harshly. “What’s the problem?”


Till began to feel unsafe with Flake’s arms still around him and wrung himself out of his partner’s embrace. 


Flake softened and gently asked; “Should we go to bed now?”


Till shook his head, now frustrated. Why the hell is he avoiding my questions-?

“No! I want to know why you’re always out so late and show up disheveled, why you never want to talk about it, why you just expect me to be unbothered! What the hell is it?



“Flake,” Till said slowly. “Are you cheating on me?”


Flake didn't say a word. It was that silence Till had learned meant he had something for Flake to ponder- or for Flake to judge.


Till fumbled for words when Flake interrupted;

"I'd rather be dead than cheating on you. Nobody could compare to you."


"That doesn't answer my question." Till whispered. Flake stared into Till's soul and smiled.


"I beat up nazis with some people. I wiped the sorry smile off their faces."


Till didn't know what to answer to that. Flake was so skinny, Till always had saved him- yet there he was, allegedly beating up fascists.


"But- how-?" 


Flake put his hand atop Till's mouth and signed for him to be quiet.


"To keep people safe. Like you, or I."


" Flake , I can protect myself-"


"Don't ask. Let's sleep."


And with that, Till knew Flake had ended the conversation. A light smile and head knack, as if to say 'let's sleep. No more questions.'


Till decided to let it go. He was simply too tired.