makinglies | There are no cats in America

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There are no cats in America

Moving to a new country is difficult but if you're a child it seems impossible. True, things had been terrifying with the bombings and soldiers and the news of that their government had been doing behind the country's back. Thirteen years old, but Albert still reads the news, still listens to the radio. Soon after they're on a boat, crammed in with other emigrants chattering in a cacophony of languages, pushing and shoving. There were other children, but mostly Albert opted to keep to himself, helping his mother but otherwise holed up in their tiny shared cabin and waited to see the spines of Lady Liberty's crown welcoming them to what his mother calls "a land of new opportunities". Albert, always a practical child, just hoped it would be a land of fresher air.

It's been a few months since then. They'd arrived at the start of summer with New York City sweltering. With his mother working two jobs and a little saved up, they'd managed to get a small fan and some other things for the little apartment, but despite the hardships they'd managed to make a nice little life for themselves in this new country. Their community on the lower east side is friendly and breathes of home in Dresden, or so Albert feels. He even made friends with the old man who runs the bookshop on the corner, his son having been claimed by the war on the side of the Allies. He'd also been named Albert, and the man would often reminisce in German and sometimes share the haribo candies he'd always have around. He may be the only friend Albert had made, but he was content with that.

Even so, as the weather turned colder and fall set in, Albert's mother enrolled him in school. Albert had always liked school back home, strict as it was, but here in America it seemed all the other boys were so loud and tall and frightening. He'd mostly stayed away from other children since arriving, but now he's been thrown in the front of a class and as the teacher pushes him to introduce himself to the room every eye is on him and he can't help but fidgit and look anywhere except at all the unfamiliar faces.

"Ha-hallo, I-I am Albert Heinrich..." He trails off, brutally self conscious at his accent and flushing a red which he knows reaches his ears. The teacher - Miss Jones - waits for an interminable moment to see if he'll say something else, then simply shoos him to an empty desk with some annoyance and begins to write the day's lesson on the blackboard. Safe for the moment, Albert sinks as low as he can in his seat and pulls his oversized newsy cap down around his ears in an attempt to hide the fact that they're still pink.

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Moments after Jet sits down dinner's on the table. Despite both teens being old enough to serve themselves, Mrs. Heinrich still preconstructs their meals, setting plates laden with baked mackerel, mixed vegetables, and roasted potatoes in front of each. She sits with her own plate once the boys are served and have a soda each, giving a warning as she does. "Careful of bones."

There's a little conversation during the meal. Though Mrs. Heinrich is relatively quiet, it's more because of her lack of confidence with English than because she doesn't want to engage. She asks Albert - in halting English for Jet's benefit - how the day was and Albert responds with a run down of school and piano practice, leaving out all mention of his brief fight with Leo because he'd already told her about that privately. Once the silver-haired teen is finished, Mrs. Heinrich turns to look at Jet expectantly for his answer to the same question.

It had been a while since he'd had fish, so Jet was simply enjoying the food and listening to the Heinrichs talk, it took a moment for him to realize he was being asked the same question.

But once it clicked, he was talking like normal, about classes and guitar lessons from the school's music teacher in the mornings, ending with a severely glazed over version of the afternoon's activities: 'meeting with some people to listen to some tunes.'

Even that last part he didn't falter on, he was good at doing that sort of thing these days, but the fact that the scared and uncertain boy who'd been in Albert's room earlier was no where to be found now helped.

The rest of dinner is light and conversation turns to that of music and food. Albert gets Jet to help him clean up and do dishes after and then Mrs. Heinrich makes sure homework gets done. While a bit strict with the boys, their work spread out across the kitchen table, she has a twinkle in her eye as she turns on the radio softly in the background, finding something Jet had professed to like during their dinner conversation before leaving it to crackle the tune through the apartment.

Albert showers for bed second, that being the polite thing to do, but all through the evening he's been having... thoughts. It's wonderful to see Jet so happy. He's not sure if he's ever seen the redhead so carefree and comfortable, but he didn't think his mind would provide such imagery when he thought about it too hard. Instead of simply leaning over to ask about some of their homework, his hormone addled brain tries to rewrite it into Jet leaning in and nipping his ear behind the barricade of the math book. Instead of the occasional accidental bump of long legs under the table, he thinks of Jet's foot snaking up the back of his leg slowly. And when Jet had come back from the shower, hair hanging soaked down around his shoulders and long legs naked under the towel, Albert's thoughts had been too unseemly to describe.

It's a definite problem, both mentally and physically.

He could take himself in hand. He's quiet usually - what? He's a teenager - but the mere fact that Jet is right in the other room, in his bedroom at that, makes Albert pretty certain that it wouldn't help for more than maybe five minutes if he did.

It's ridiculous when he thinks about it. Jet's been in his room before, even spent the night once or twice, but it's somehow different now, having realized what he did earlier. Now his brain seems to think there's the possibility of something happening.

But would there really be? Jet's not exactly shy about what he wants usually. If he thought of Albert like that, wouldn't he have said something? It's not as if they don't have time alone. Though... Being with a guy is... He doesn't know anyone like that. When he'd first guessed it about Jet he'd spent quite awhile having to wrap his head around it, though all privately as he deals with most things he needs to give deep consideration. He'd decided that he didn't care. In the end, why does it matter who you love so long as you treat them well? Even if there's the whole question of children and all. But that's getting ahead of himself.

Ultimately, Albert doesn't give into temptation, turning the shower on as cold as it will go for a few minutes and getting in his pajamas in the bathroom before venturing out. That should give him enough of a reprieve to hide under his comforter before his body gets other ideas again, at least.

After he was done with his shower, he'd thrown his old shirt on temporarily while he went to Albert's room to let the older boy have the bathroom. His wet hair was soaking the material, but it was better than making Albert uncomfortable by letting him see the marks and bruises.

Once his friend was gone, though, he stripped it and dried himself off, only pulling a pair of boxers on before wrapping up in the soft comforter. He let his mind wander while he waited, drifting over the whole day in stark detail including the last few hours. He let himself think about how different being here was to being at home. What it would have been like if Leo had gotten his way only for Jet to then need to go home and face his father, he didn't even know what would have happened then or if he'd even be noticed, but it wasn't a good scenario. And he let himself think about what Albert had said about not wanting Jet to end up dead.

That mingled with his thoughts of Leo and that same fear resurfaced and swirled in his mind. The Blue Rose gang was notorious for pulling petty shit most of the time, but it was no secret that they were dangerous. Their leader didn't take shit from anyone, not even from his own group, so if someone crossed him or anyone in his 'family' they had a habit of ending up dead in some gutter somewhere. And rarely did the member responsible for it get caught.

It wasn't like that all the time, they were hardly the most ruthless in the city and more often than not, knives only came out as a threat and not with any real intention of use, but that didn't mean they should be taken lightly either.

When Albert came back in and dove under his covers, Jet was still on this train of thought. he let silence reign between them for a few seconds before he spoke up again, quietly so as not to be heard outside of the room. "Albert, I want you to promise me you won't come anywhere near Little Italy for any reason, okay? The further away you keep, the better. And actually promise me."

"I can't, you might need my help." Silver hair pops out from under the covers with an accompanying scowl. It isn't an out of hand dismissal, but it's certainly a final one. After everything today the last thing Albert is going to do is abandon his best and dearest friend because of his father, Leo, or any other reason. "Besides, Leo's gonna probably come after one or the other of us. If we split up, it'll just make us more tempting targets. It's not like when I first got here, Jet. I can hold my own now. I'm pretty sure I broke his nose."

He tries not to take pleasure in that fact, but there's a grim satisfaction in his statement regardless. He settles in, rolling on his back and folding his hands behind his head to stare at the ceiling instead of Jet's face or he might be back to the same state he was in in the shower. Though... something's bothering him. "Why did you think you liked Leo, anyway? Just 'cause he complimented you or...? I mean, uh... I guess I mean how do you know if you like someone or, y'know, like someone?"

Obviously this is the most important question.

It bothered him that Albert wasn't giving him that assurance, that there might be a time that the other teen would end up in the wrong part of town without Jet and then something would happen to him. But he did have to grant that Albert wasn't the same scared little boy he'd met years ago; shy, maybe, but he could hold his own. Besides, Albert had filled out nicely, he actually had some force behind that swing as Leo's nose demonstrated.

He curled up in the blanket on his side, listening to his friend, hesitation coating him with the left-field question. Why had he liked Leo? Because Leo had liked him and he'd been so desperate for any kind of attention he'd taken it? Maybe.

"I don't know why...maybe I never really liked him, not like I thought I did...but I can tell you how I know I don't like him. He doesn't put butterflies in my stomach or make my skin tingle when he touches it. He said some nice things, yeah, but he never...I don't know, I guess he never made me feel like he actually wanted me, you know? Those are the kinds of things you get from people you actually like like that."

Because that one he did know from experience, it was the measuring stick that Leo hadn't met and why he'd pulled away. Leo had been superficially nice, but at the moment Jet had expected him to make the red-head feel more special than anyone else, he hadn't even come close to comparing how Albert made him feel just by being Jet's friend and being close.

"You know you like someone when they mean more to you than just about anyone else and you want to protect them and make 'em happy and let them know you're there for them because them not being around is one of the worst things you can think of." He was thankful for the darkness and his ability to bury his face in his pillow, he doubted he could say half that with the lights on.

"Butterflies and tingles...?" That's it then, he's doomed. "And it's, um..."

It's not like Albert to stutter or pause anymore. Since emigrating to the United States, Albert's lost his formerly bashful exterior and mostly carries himself with a quiet confidence but in the face of such enormous emotions he feels fresh off of the boat again, awkwardly teetering between bewildered and unsure.

"It's... it's normal to feel like that about another guy?" Jet isn't the only one glad for the darkness of the room.

He goes quiet a moment as he tries to figure out his words. Was Albert asking because he really did have a problem with Jet or was he asking because he was actually the same and had a thing for someone? Which just opened a whole new can of worms: who did Albert like? How horrifically ironic would it be that the guy Jet totally had it bad for would like someone else when neither of them were supposed to like guys to begin with?

....but that was Albert's question, wasn't it? were they not supposed to like guys? According to everyone and everything around them: no, that was wrong and strange and unnatural.

But the feelings he had for Albert didn't feel like any of those things. Being the only kid wearing long sleeves in gym and having to pretend he ran into things a lot or got in fights every five seconds when it was really more like every two minutes, that stuff felt strange and wrong and unnatural.

And even if he'd ended up wanting out with Leo, it wasn't because he had thought another guy's hands on him was wrong or gross, it had been because of who the guy was. Or wasn't.

"I think so. It feels normal." If anything, the thought of being with a chick was what felt abnormal.

He could still remember that uncertain but definitely unpleasant twisting he'd gotten when Natalie had confessed to having feelings for him before she left. At the time, he'd thought it was because he just didn't like her like that but he knew Albert did--it wasn't that hard to figure out, you just had to watch the guy to get it--so it had felt like some unfair joke. Now he can't help but wonder if it was because girls just weren't his thing.

"Why?"

He should have known Jet would ask. He should have known a question like that is tantamount to giving himself away. This entire conversation is like playing with fire. "I-I'm just curious."

There were trace amounts of nervousness in Jet's tone when he asked. Was that just Albert projecting? Or was it really there? Was he worrying Jet somehow? Come to think of it, it's not the best question to ask someone who just told you they like to get with other guys when they had to watch a whole stupid film on it in health class. Really that entire reel was more of a cautionary tale against going off with strange adults than anything else, but the teacher made it clear his thoughts about 'deviancy' as he put it. "I mean, I might, um..."

Were they deviants? Did it matter if they weren't hurting anyone? At least he knows Jet won't condemn him for it, but the fact that Jet is the very reason he's having all these feelings in the first place makes it so much harder to talk to him about it. "There's a guy..."

Too late he realizes Jet is going to want to know who and Albert ducks under his comforter again.

So there was someone. And now here came the butterflies and the swirling thoughts of who and just how long Albert had felt like that and why couldn't it be him--? He gathered the comforter tightly around him and sat up, scooting so he could lean on the side of the bed and peek over at the blanket-lump that was his best friend.

"Who is it, Al? And don't try and get out of this, you're the one that brought it up." Albert had dug his grave by asking Jet all this and asking him about Leo when Jet hadn't wanted to talk about it for the next fifty years at least, so now he had to lay in it.

His mind sped through a list of all the guys it could be, some in the music program at school, some who drifted around the library more than most and some who were in their classes. There were a few possibilities, but none of them stood out overly much.

"...It's not Scott is it?" His thoughts caught on a relatively gorgeous guy in one of their classes, blond, tall, bright green eyes and ridiculously clever without being overbearing about it. Jet could see him being attractive to Albert...they could go off and be brainy together and Jet definitely couldn't compete with a guy like that.

Jet hoped it wasn't him.

"Scott? What makes you think Scott?" It's enough of a surprise guess that Albert removes the blanket from his head to look at Jet as if the other teen suddenly declared himself president of space. "He's so boring! All he talks about is his car and his family's house in the Hamptons, which I'm pretty sure he's lying about. I mean, what's he doing in public school if they have a house in the Hamptons?"

Point made, Albert has time to notice just how close Jet is to him now and he shrinks some, the blanket covering his nose. "A-anyway, it's not Scott. I-I don't really want to talk about it because I'm pretty sure he doesn't like me back like that even if he's my friend."

Jet shrugged, inwardly relieved it wasn't Scott, Jet admittedly found him boring too and wouldn't have wanted to hear about him if that had been the case.

But Albert's refusal to spill was frustrating. 'His friend' narrowed the list already in his head since Albert's list of friends was pretty small and a lot of them were girls to boot, so who the heck was it?

"Look, you picked at things I didn't want to talk about, just tell me, it's not like I'm gonna rat you out or anything, you should know better than that." Jet didn't tell secrets that weren't his to tell.

He scrabbled through the list again, hating every name that ran through his head more and more. And then it stopped and all the names fell away as an idea tore through and left an agonizing mix of excitement and nervousness in its wake.

"Al...is it me?" He wished he could eat the words the second they were out of his mouth but his filter had always kind of sucked so it was inevitable they'd surface eventually. Why would it be him? After everything Albert knew now it just seemed too unlikely. But he had to ask or he'd just sit around wondering forever.

Why did Jet have to be so perceptive? Why did he have to open his mouth in the first place? Why'd he get dragged to America anyway?! Why anything?! Not that it matters. He's not the kind of person Jet goes for. He's not tall or dangerous and he's kind of a square a lot of the time.

"It's okay if you don't like me back." The stutter is gone in favor of a sharp quickness, Albert backpedaling furiously in an effort to preempt the awkward letdown he's so certain is in his immediate future. "It's really way more important that we're friends and I really didn't want to say anything because so much happened today already and I don't want to add to it or make you feel bad at all so we can just forget it and pretend nothing happened and go to bed."

He mangles the edge of the blanket in his hands, looking at it instead of at Jet. He couldn't stand to see that shocked face of his best friend turn into one of pity or even resentment.

Jet's face was definitely one of shock and that previous mix of emotions exploded and turned into something so tangled and convoluted that he didn't even dare try to name it.

Slowly, he extracted his arms from the cover of the blanket and reached for the hand covered in bandages. His eyes found his own fingers, tentatively brushing along the bandage before growing bolder and curling around his friend's hand.

"We're always going to be friends, no matter what....but d'you know why I changed my mind with Leo? He wasn't the person I wanted to be with....He wasn't you."

His face caught fire at the declaration, but he managed to force his eyes up to see Albert's face, heart in his throat and butterflies in his stomach, but a little more sure than he'd been before.

"I like you too, Albert. Have for a long while now...I just never thought you'd like me back so I never..." He shrugged, his words running out on him.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when Jet's hand covers his but instead he's perfectly still, barely even breathing out of the fear that he'll break the moment somehow, that he'll wake up and things won't be this way at all. It's more likely it's a dream, that has to be it. There's no way things would turn out like this and Jet reciprocates and actually always did. He raises his left hand to pinch himself just to make sure, letting out a hoarse 'ouch!' and then his eyes go wide.

Not a dream, then. This is real. Jet's really telling him this and Albert's stomach turns into a knot of nerves and happiness, butterflies rattling like a tilted pinball machine inside him. He wets his lips nervously with the tip of his tongue. "Really...? But... but why? I'm not, I mean-"

It doesn't make sense.

The fact Albert felt the need to pinch himself to check if he was dreaming made Jet smile and scattered one or two butterflies, though hardly enough to really make a difference.

His face only heated more--if that was possible--when asked why. How could Albert not know? Really? He wasn't any good at explaining stuff like this, but he'd do his best because his best friend deserved to know how amazing Jet thought he was.

"Because...you're really smart and good at a lot of things and you're kind and care about others and always seem honest about that. Some people would be bullied like you've been and shrink away but you got stronger because of it, braver...hell, a lot more than I even realized. You're kind've awesome."

He looked away, choosing the blanket to spill the more intimate reasons to rather than those light eyes.

"And...even beyond that...you've always had my back and been there for me. I-I don't know where I'd be without you...and I mean that, so don't laugh or anything. Plus, you're pretty good looking and that sure doesn't hurt."

He gave a half smile, pausing as those butterflies decided to fly in loops for a little while. "I know...you probably think someone like Leo's more my style but...he was just the guy that came along...it's always been you, Al. Guess quiet egghead's more my style." His voice turned teasing at that last bit in an attempt to lighten things after he'd pretty much just put his heart out there.

Edited 2014-01-29 07:10 (UTC)

"Well I just- I mean- Th-that's what decent people do..." He can't get any more words out, it's as if the blush in his own cheeks puts out a static that drowns him out with how intense it is. Jet likes him. Like likes him. And not because he ever had to do anything different but just because he is the way he is.

Jet likes him for the same reason he likes Jet; for being himself.

"Jet, um..." Albert tightens his fingers in Jet's, the bandages tightening and stinging his bruised knuckles with the tension but it's a badge of honor, a testament to how far he'd go to protect Jet, to how much he cares about him no matter what. His voice drops to an embarrassed whisper but there's something reverent in his hesitation. "Can I... can I kiss you?"

Jet looked up slowly, a little surprised by the question, not for what was being asked, but the fact he was being asked at all. His first kiss and any kisses after had been taken, not asked for--not that he'd protested at all at the time--so it hadn't really occurred to him that that wasn't just 'how it was done.' After all, people almost never asked in movies or comics or anything either...and yet Jet found he actually kind of liked the fact Albert had asked, it made him feel like he was actually giving what he wanted to give instead of going along with it.

He smiled a bit. "Yeah...I mean...I'd like it if you did."

His free arm braced on the mattress and he leaned in a little more, his eyes already starting to close in anticipation of finally having Albert's lips on his.

Albert tries not to be overeager but he meets Jet halfway, all the reasons why he should have waited racing through his mind. His lips are chapped, what if his breath smells? Oh god they had fish for dinner his breath definitely smells even though he's brushed his teeth and what if he's not a good kisser? He's never kissed anyone romantically how is he supposed to know and what if he's so bad that Jet laughs at him?? Maybe this was the worst idea ever and he should just find some hole to crawl into where he can waste away and rot in peace!

But then his lips are on Jet's. And his lips are soft and warm and very gently parted and every thought but that goes flying out of Albert's head leaving a blanket of blissful white and gentle awareness that his hand is still in Jet's and that's perfect.

It's not an explosion of sensation like he was expecting, it's something warm and comfortable. Something real. It's enough to make his eyes sting all over again, but he just closes them tighter for a moment until the sensation fades--he's already cried once tonight he doesn't need start acting like some chick.

Gently, he moves his lips against the older teen's, coaxing and showing what he knew and the emotions behind them rather than try to explain.

The kiss was still soft, but he pressed into it a little harder in a desire for more, his free hand coming up to rest lightly on the back of Albert's neck.

Cheeks burning red and chest feeling light and squirmy, Albert almost ducks out of the kiss in a bout of sudden shyness. He'd only today realized he liked Jet as more than a friend and already here they are, Jet's hand brushing the hair at the nape of his neck and Jet's lips moving to part his, to show him how it's done. It's enough to make him want to blush and giggle and hide his face like a girl.

He's got the blushing part down, anyway.

Instead of pulling away, instead of giving in to his psyche suddenly reminding him that he's shy and this is way outside his usual comfort zone, he listens to something else instead, the urgent voice that had him punch Leo, that had reminded him just how important Jet is to him, the one that's telling him this is exactly where he wants to be and Albert kisses back a little more boldly, his heart so far in his throat he's certain Jet can taste it on his lips.

Albert's kissing back more and Jet wants nothing more than to lose himself in that, but the angle's a little awkward and he wants to be closer to Albert anyway so...

He paused, pulling away a moment and answering any confused look with a light kiss on the lips--a silent promise he wasn't done just yet. He stood, pulling his hands back to him to catch the blanket and keep it from falling away from his chest. Carefully, he climbed onto Albert's bed and laid half next to and half on his friend, their chests pressed together with Albert's blanket acting as the only barrier between Jet's exposed skin and the other boy.

Then his hand was back on Albert's and the other back in silver hair as he leaned in to continue the kiss, this time full of affection and confidence rather than timid exploration.

Jet's movements hypnotize Albert. The way he presses a small kiss after the long one to Albert's lips. The way he holds the blanket up in a gesture of decorum that seems out of place for someone so bombastic but still perfectly natural all at once. The way he somehow looks graceful as he presses his knee on the mattress, making the wrought iron bed frame creak quietly as he adds his weight.

Albert's hand clutches at Jet's when he finally places it back in the German's grip, clinging for life even as the rest of him tenses up, heart pounding at being so close, his trouble in the shower coming back to haunt him with a vengeance. After all, this is what he'd thought of. Being able touch and taste and feel, but somehow like this it makes something in his head pop and every shred of confidence he's built since coming to this country falls in a scattered pile of bewilderment that it could actually come true.

He realizes he's breathing hard when they break to breathe again and tries to calm down, though it doesn't work so much as make him sound all the more nervous. "I-I don't... um... I've never..."

It's ridiculous and Albert hides his tomato face in Jet's shoulder with an utterly helpless laugh. "I don't know what to do."

Jet's own confidence ebbs a bit but he pulls back to kiss Albert's forehead lightly in an attempt to cover. "I don't really either..I mean I guess I have an idea but I've never...you know..either. We could figure it out together...if you want? I mean, if you want to wait that's fine, I understand, it's probably kind've sudden and I'd be just as happy just doing this too, I just..."

His eyes fell to the blanket, a nervous slightly self deprecating laugh escaping him. He was talking in circles and he realized if was because he didn't know how to say. 'Id like to sleep with you, but I don't want you to regret it in the morning.' After all, Jet had wanted this for a while, but that didn't mean Albert did, what if he was just doing this because he'd thought he was going to lose Jet? People always panicked and clung on to things when faced with the possibility of losing them.

He didn't doubt Albert cared about him, but that didn't mean he was ready for this.

"I just...want to make you happy."

"I am happy." He says it shyly and without eye contact, but it's the truth and it comes with a little snuggle of his cheek into Jet's shoulder. He'd thought Jet would be more boney; he had been when Albert had fallen asleep on him on the bus when they'd taken a class field trip to the Natural History museum a couple years ago, but time had passed since then and they'd both grown. Albert's been noticing that about Jet all night in spite of himself and he's still noticing it now.

"But I think..." He should stop being such a loser and sound cool, right? He should make Jet feel the same way he's feeling, safe and wanted. And God is he wanted. Sex is a big step when they'd only just confessed minutes ago but his body keeps thrilling every time Jet looks at him, let alone touches him and he's incredibly grateful for the thick comforter that lets him hide the thoroughly distracting problem.

Right, okay, sound cool. He looks at Jet, trying for a roguish grin and dropping his voice a bit to sound husky. "I think we'd be happier naked."

Only his voice cracks and he's too stiff and it all comes off as so childish and ridiculous that he bursts out laughing and has to stuff his face in the pillow so as to keep quiet and hide his complete humiliation. "Can we pretend I didn't just say that?"

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