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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The description--especially that last part--has Jet blushing as well. He wants to think of some response that could be eloquent enough to express what he was feeling, but the words didn't come. "Same."

He hesitated half a second then pressed their lips together again, soft but with more confidence. It lingered and he was loathe to pull away but his breathing was calm and with it returned his mind and his awareness of the fact they should probably do something besides lay there on each other.

Even though Jet was pretty sure that could be all he did for the rest of forever and he'd never get tired of it.

"We should probably...move, I guess." Get dressed, clean up, sleep. It sounded like too much work with the only pay-off being he'd have to leave Albert's bed and his warmth lest they got caught in the morning.

"I guess..." even if it sounds like the most unappealing thing ever.

"We should kinda.. clean up at least, yeah." He blushes again, his neck turning just as pink as his cheeks. "But... well... I mean, my mom always knocks, always, because I kinda had a fight with her about it before so she always does it now so, I mean, if you wanted to share the bed. The blanket's ok but the floor's still hard, so, I mean..."

If only he had his hat to hide his face. Really though, having Jet beside him all night, arms tangled and smelling his skin feeling his hair brush against Albert's face in the night as a reassurance that it all really happened and that they're still okay. Maybe better? He wants it more than he can stand.

"If you want to..."

"Um..." The color shot right back to his face and he had to look at the older teen's shoulder instead of his eyes. "I...yeah, I'd like that. Actually."

He tried to smile at Albert but he was fairly certain the effect was ruined by whatever shade of red his cheeks had decided on. Jet leaned down and kissed his friend again, deciding that was one of the best things he'd discovered tonight: how soft and kissable Albert's lips actually were. But they really ought to clean up at least a little, so he moved off the other teen and retrieved their respective boxers as well as his old shirt that he'd taken off earlier. "Here, so we don't accidentally wake her or anything, use this to um..clean up."

Boxers are taken gratefully and Albert cleans what he can but there's an awkward pause as it dawns on him that this isn't exactly clean enough for his comfort. He likes Jet. He likes Jet more than anyone he's ever met, but that doesn't mean he's comfortable sleeping with fluids in places...

Still burning red, he pulls the boxers on and mumbles something about the bathroom before retreating there, able to clean more thoroughly with a damp washcloth and also to take a few minutes alone and process everything that had just happened.

He had sex. With another guy.

But Jet isn't just some other guy, he's Jet. He's plagued Albert's thoughts for months even before the German had a name for those feelings. He's protected and enlightened Albert to so many things and there's just something so right about the whole experience even though he still kind of stings and his hips kind of hurt and he's worried it'll all unravel somehow or that people will be able to tell just by looking at them at school on Monday.

All ridiculous thoughts. He'd rather focus on how nice Jet's lips felt on his own, a little rough and chapped but still gentle. Or how those long fingers press into his arms lightly, leaving little white marks for a moment in pink skin. Or how he'd agreed so readily to sharing a bed.

Those thoughts are better.

Feeling cleaner and lighter, Albert makes his way back to his bedroom, smiling shyly as he shuts the door behind him.

Jet was actually glad Albert needed to go into the other room for a moment, it gave Jet a chance to gather his thoughts. He'd had sex after all...and it was with the right person. Cheesy as it sounded, he really was glad for that.

There were plenty of logistical things swirling in his head--did that make them a thing? Had they kind of always been a 'thing' just without the name or the knowledge? What about Albert's mother?...what about Jet's father. If he ever found out, he'd probably kill them both--but he didn't let his mind drift there too long.

Instead, he pulled the blanket in around himself and burried his face in Albert's pillow, breathing in the scent and surrounding himself with the comfort of his...friend? Boyfriend? That one would probably need to be worked out. Maybe. Or maybe they just went with it.

Right this second, laying in Albert's bed, knowing Albert was going to come back in any second and Jet would be able to touch him and kiss him again, everything felt like it was going to be okay for the first time in forever.

When the door clicked shut cross the room, Jet poked his head out from under the covers and smiled at the other teen. "Kept it warm for you."

While Albert had managed to calm himself down at least a little with the few minutes apart, seeing Jet popped out of the blankets - Albert's blankets - and saying he kept the bed warm - Albert's bed - turns the German a brilliant shade of scarlet again. It really shouldn't have garnered such a reaction. Jet's hair sticks up at odd angles and he looks like some sort of strange bird in a quilt nest. A week ago, yesterday, a few hours ago even, Albert may have laughed at the sight but right now, after what they'd done and with all the cards on the table between them, Albert sees Jet with rose colored glasses.

Somehow, sharing their space like this is almost more intimate than sex. It's not as if the sex had been a let down - it wasn't exactly as he'd expected and he still feels as if he's done part of it wrong in finishing so quickly before Jet - but he'll do better next time. Because... well, they wanted a next time. He did, anyway, and when he'd said in a round about way Jet hadn't dismissed him. But sharing his bed is sharing all the little nighttime habits; how he might drool in his pillow or talk in his sleep. Every little thing that would make him self conscious, but somehow, even though he's a little worried about Jet seeing him in a light he can't control, it's exhilarating to think Jet doesn't mind all that stuff. As for Albert, he wants to know these things. The special little things that no one else sees. Parts of Jet that can be secrets just for them.

Maybe it's the same for both of them.

At that thought he manages to smile through his momentary mental hiccup and crawl under the covers with Jet, hesitating only a moment before pulling the taller teen's arms around him and settling in with his nose buried against Jet's chest. "You're right. It is warm."

Jet happily curls his arms around the older teen. It felt nice, the warmth and that vague sense that he could almost protect Albert from anything in the world if Jet held him this close and this tightly. As long as Jet was there to put his arms around Albert like this, he'd make sure nothing ever happened to the one person he cared about more than anything.

He let them lay there in silence, almost surrendering to the calming sound of his friend breathing, but something nagged at him to say what was on his mind before sleep claimed them.

"Hey...Al...I won't let anything happen to you, not ever, okay? I mean...more than usual. "I mean I don't want anything..." He squeezed a little tighter for a moment and moved so his face was curled over Albert's head as his words fell out from under him. "I just...wanted you to know that."

"Jet..." Another laugh bubbles up from where Albert has his face comfortably buried. "I rescued you today, remember? I think I know what you mean though."

He should look Jet in the eye when he says the next part but he's comfortable and already slowly slipping into a sleepy stupor so he says it into Jet's collarbone instead. "I won't let anything happen to you either. Not 'cause of Leo or your pop or anyone."

His arms tighten in the same way as Jet curling over him, protective and secure. "We'll keep each other safe."

He's quiet a moment as he tries to sort out the feelings that statement gives him, eventually giving a small nod. "Yeah. Okay. ...goodnight, Albert."

His eyes closed and he swept everything and anything spinning around in his mind into the corners, choosing only to focus on the breathing of his best friend as he fell asleep.

The rest of the weekend is spent in blissful companionship, Jet and Albert visiting their usual haunts and hangouts, but everything seemed new with the stolen glances and secretive hand-holding. They even got the apartment to themselves until the wee hours of the morning on Saturday, Albert's mother having been held up at work an leaving the boys cash for a pizza and a note to make sure they wash up before they eat.

The second time was better than the first, Albert a little more confident in the rhythm of things but still just as giddy for Jet's hands on him and the look he gives from under all that soft red hair. The sex is still perfect in its myriad of imperfections and they both go to bed happy and tangled together, wishing it could last beyond that night.

Unfortunately, time goes quickly when you ignore its passing, and all too soon it's getting late on Sunday evening and the boys have to say goodbye until the next day. They don't speak of it as Albert watches Jet walk down the stoop of the tenement building and round the corner towards the subway, but the anxiety of sending Jet back to potential harm and definite misery hangs a heavy pall over them both.

And the next morning, when Jet shows up in a jacket and a battered Dodgers cap pulled low over his face, Albert feels his stomach drop at the stiff way the other teen is moving. It turns to anger when the teacher makes him take off his hat and Jet's bangs can't quite cover the raw and puffy half moon of sickly purples and blues around one eye. Albert's in a silent rage when Jet finally takes his seat, hands curled in fists under his desk so tightly that his nails scrape into his palms.

He has to do something, but for the life of him he doesn't know what.

That weekend had been the best few days of his life, being able to relax and spend his time with Albert, he even took some joy in doing what would normally be considered chores since he didn't have to fear hell raining down on his head for making 'too much noise' or whatever else.

He smiled for Albert but they both knew it wasn't real the night he had to leave. Still, he had good memories of warm nights curled around his best friend and the sights and sounds that had come with that along with the more simple things like laughing together and holding hands and acting like everything was normal. Those were the things he held to as he made his way to the subway and back home.

A small part of him even hoped that Leo and his flunkies would find him on his way home and stop him from even needing to go back. They didn't and barely five minutes after he'd closed the door, the first fist had flown.

The teacher didn't even ask why his face looked the way it did, they'd long since bought his customary response of getting into a fight, he already had the reputation of it in the school. Being a punk and a troublemaker gave him a bit of freedom in that respect. But there was one person who knew better now and Jet sat next to him with his eyes steadfastly glued to the front of the room.

He stayed that way all through class and thought, maybe, he'd be able to ignore Albert right up to the bell when he could dart out and avoid any looks he was afraid would be in his friend's eyes. He didn't want to ignore Albert, it was an incredibly difficult thing to accomplish when just the thought of him sent Jet's mind to how soft the other teen's skin was and his scent and the way he looked when he smiled, but he also wanted desperately to keep this part of his life as far away from Albert as he could.

Unfortunately, his plan fell through when the bell rang and his body had grown too sore from being motionless for him to do anything more than stiffly shuffle out of his seat. On top of that, a girl he talked to on occasion stopped by to ask what happened and if he was alright.

Lying to her was easy. A quick smirk and the claim of having gotten into a knock down drag out with some street punk on his way back from a dive on 14th and she was smiling and shaking her head as though she were surprised she should have expected any different. She ate it up and moved on, but it was plenty of time for him to be delayed in gathering up his stuff.

Albert loiters until the girl leaves, placing himself near the door and holding it open for her politely. When she's gone, the door shuts with a click and the German remains on the inside, he and Jet alone save for the quiet croaking of the frogs they'll have to dissect next week.

"Was it Leo?" He's pretty sure it wasn't. Jet would have worn those bruises proudly instead of trying to hide them, and he would have given as good as he got. Albert instead asks to give Jet the opportunity to be honest with him, to tell him plainly instead of Albert having badgered him into talking and making the younger teen feel more trapped.

He already felt a little trapped and not just because the door had clicked shut with such finality. Albert had asked if Leo had done it and that left Jet with an excuse to lie to him...but Jet didn't want to lie to him, not anymore. It had felt so nice to be open and honest all through the weekend that trying to go back to the way things had been before was hard.

He tugged at his jacket's sleeve nervously and picked up his books to give his hands something to do, although the weight of them and the edges of the binding pressed uncomfortably against cuts and bruises the long sleeves hid.

"No. I didn't see him at all. The dishes piled up too high while I was gone and I guess Pop ran out of smokes or something." He couldn't really remember what had started the yelling and hitting beyond that, all he remembered were the things his dad had said about him, the things that stuck in his mind like they'd caught on sharp edges and wouldn't let go.

Jet made for the door, his eyes still averted as they had been since he'd stepped into the classroom that morning. "Come on, we're gonna be late; don't want that spotless record of yours getting messed up for no reason."

"I don't care if I-" He's cut off by the sound of the science teacher trying to get into the room again and hurriedly unlocks it. Jet's saved by the bell, for now, but Albert's thoroughly intent on cornering him again at lunch.

His next two classes are honors courses and so he doesn't see Jet during them, but the very moment the bell rings the normally reserved teen is bolting through the door with his book bag bouncing in his hands, his mind racing as fast as his feet.

There isn't anything they can actually do about it. Even the teachers will smack wrists and pull ears with unruly students. He has to tell his mother, has to get her to do something because no one else will. The teachers won't listen, Jet doesn't want any other kids to know, but Edda Heinrich already does and maybe she can be their salvation. Albert still trusts in his mother's ability to do the impossible; she's never failed him before.

By the time Jet makes it out of class, Albert's already standing in the hall, winded and panting as he waits. "Come home with me after school."

Jet sat in a daze through his classes like he was on autopilot, his mind stuck circulating possibilities on what Albert might do. He wouldn't just tell other students, that wasn't like Albert, and even if he told teachers it wouldn't matter; Jet had already established himself as a pugnacious troublemaker, they'd want proof and the only proof they had were bruises and cuts Jet had already dug a million lies to explain. No one would believe them.

It was better that way, he'd already dragged his best friend further into this than he should have.

He started in surprise when he left the classroom and practically ran into Albert panting and determined in the hallway. But the surprise passed quickly in the face of his friend's demand which caused a patch of color to rise to his cheeks. Jet grabbed the older teen under the arm and pulled him into walking towards the cafeteria.

"You wanna say that a little louder next time? I don't think the Freshmen heard you downstairs." He huffed and let go of Albert's arm as though he were afraid he'd hold on too tight. He always felt like that the day after his father had it out on him, like Jet might transfer some of that to others if he touched them for too long, but now he was more aware of it.

Instead he thought about Albert's request. His gut reaction was that it was too risky for the older teen, but he realized his dad didn't even know Albert existed, if Jet vanished again and reappeared later, Jet could say he was out doing just about anything and he'd be believed.

"Alright, I'll come, but only if you drop this. It wasn't a big deal before and it's not now, so leave it alone."

"You're wrong." Albert's face is flush with anger but also some embarrassment. It caught up with him how loud he'd been in the hall and so his voice is softer now, but it still carries the same heavy weight. "It was always a big deal, just no one knew it."

The older teen's hand twitches with wanting to take Jet's arm, to pull him into a protective hug, but more than how that would look he doesn't want to grab him somewhere that would cause him more pain. The last thing he wants to do is be the cause of any more hurt in Jet's life.

He swallows.

"What if-"

Can he ask this? Is it even possible? Maybe he should wait and ask his mother first but he can't stand by and deal with Jet coming in every morning with fresh cuts and bruises until one day he may not even come in at all. The thought makes him feel sick and he keeps talking because of it.

"What if we asked my mom if you could live with us instead? We could get part-time jobs to pay for it, at the grocery store or at the music shop or something. If we help with that and around the house, I'm sure it'd be fine. Please." He steps forward when he knows Jet will protest, white eyes searching brown helplessly, desperately, for any sign that Jet will give him this chance. "I want to protect you."

He was scared and he wanted some way to be out of this conversation and out of this situation, but it was lunch and there were no excuses to escape the pleading gaze of the one person he cared about.

It wasn't that he was scared of Albert, he was scared for him. It was entirely possible that he could leave home and his dad wouldn't even care until some other thing that Jet usually did went undone and Ciro had to do it himself. But would he care enough then to go looking for him? Jet was still a teenager, running away would get him in trouble and maybe even the Heinrichs too for giving him a place to hide out. Could they be charged for kidnapping or something else?

His dad was a coward, he didn't think he'd actually do anything against them himself, but what if Jet was underestimating him and he did in some drunken rage, what if he followed Jet or found him at the school and found out who was helping him and he decided to show up at their door? What if--

He shook his head. "What if you get hurt because of it? I don't just mean physically, there's plenty of ways it could go wrong I don't want...this last weekend's the best thing I can remember happening to me in a long time, if anything happened to you or your ma just because of me--" He shook his head again.

"Maybe nothing would happen, maybe I'd get my stuff and leave and never see him again. But on the off chance something did happen, I can't let that fall on you. I have to protect you too." Because Albert's life might not be easy, but it had love and happiness and he and his mother had made Jet feel at home for the first time in a long time and the younger teen felt sick at the thought of all the unhappiness and violence and hate in his life falling on their heads because he was weak and couldn't take a little rough handling.

Albert was his best friend and the things he felt for the older boy were stronger than anything else he'd ever experienced and he had to protect that no matter what.

"I told you before, your dad isn't as scary as Nazis or the allied bombs. And Mutti can take care of herself. She didn't even cry when the bombs fell, she just took me to the cellar and dug us out after with just a ladle so stop trying to be some kind of tragic hero for a minute and worry about yourself." Anger coming to a head Albert hisses angry frost through clenched teeth to keep his voice down, spinning so he blocks the view of Jet from the rest of the mostly empty hall. In a flash, Albert grabs Jet's arm and pushes up his sleeve, hating to do what he knows hurts but mouth pressed in a thin and determined line regardless.

He's silent, holding Jet's arm in place with surprising strength for the boy who couldn't even throw a punch two years prior. He hates to look at it, the sickly discolored skin, yellows and greens under the purples and reds. "There isn't anything noble in living with this. You don't deserve this."

He does wince when Albert grabs his arm and for just a moment there's a panic born from feeling air on bare skin, as though the sheer fact his arm was uncovered meant someone would randomly show up and see it. But he doesn't try to pull away. Something in the strong grip and that determination in Albert's voice holds him there.

Maybe because what he'd half understood a couple nights ago--that Albert was afraid Jet wouldn't come back from returning home someday--solidified and mingled with the feeling of having someone who cared enough to even be worried about that. He wanted to protect Albert because he didn't want him to get hurt, but Jet was hurting him by being stubborn.

His eyes disappeared into his fringe of hair and a humorless smile tugged at his lips.

"I don't deserve you."

He turned the wrist being held just enough to grab Albert's wrist with his hand in return. "Only if your ma says it's okay...and only if you let me go get my stuff by myself."

He could relent to the building itself, but he didn't want Albert anywhere near the apartment itself. He didn't discredit what the Heinrich's had been through--far from it, he admired them--but that didn't stop the fear tearing at his stomach at just the thought. Either way, he would need to get at least some stuff if he stayed with the Heinrichs longer than a weekend. Hopefully he could do that soon, the longer he waited, the worse his eventual short-lived return would be received.

Edited 2014-03-28 04:59 (UTC)

Even though the words are meant to be self-deprecating, a furious red springs to Albert's face at Jet saying he doesn't deserve him, the German mumbling under his breath about how Jet can't just say such things out loud.

The pressure on his wrist from Jet's hand snaps him out of his embarrassment and he smiles hopefully at his friend. "Yeah! Absolutely. I'll have to have time to ask her anyway."

He has no doubt she will say yes because she has to. Because everything important in Albert's world is in danger and he can't let that go without doing something. Even if they weren't... whatever they are. Even if they were just friends, Albert still would insist. He can't let Jet end up in the papers, washed up on the Hudson.

Albert's hand tightens unconsciously at the thought.

Jet gave a tentative, albeit real smile at the hope Albert had. Carefully, he rolled his sleeve back down to cover his arm and let go of the German to gesture towards the cafeteria.

"We gotta get through the rest of the day first. When d'you think you'll ask her?"

Things decided, Albert feels much better and he lets Jet start leading the way to the cafeteria. "She's working at the dry cleaner today so I was going to stop there on the way home."

It would give his mother the chance to think about this without being put completely on the spot, or so he thinks. She'll have a few hours for the idea to marinate before coming home and giving an answer. "She won't say no."

He was silently glad for Albert's determination since Jet felt only some of it himself. "Yeah. If she doesn't, though, we'll figure something else out. I'll still get my stuff together tonight and it'll be okay."

It was easy enough to say it, he just wished he felt it more, but those were his nerves talking. There was one thing he was sure of: he was done letting his home life hurt the only good thing Jet had. Even if Mrs. Heinrich said no, he'd still leave and go...somewhere else. Anywhere else. He'd camp out in the school's supply closet if he had to.

"Maybe I'll ask Mr. Conners at the guitar shop for a job, he'd probably like the help." Plus the old guy was stubborn as a mule, he wasn't likely to ask for the help he needed, Jet offering was a better solution for both of them.

"That's a great idea! He likes you, I bet he'd give you part time, easy." He's optimistic because he has to be, because it's clear that Jet still has doubts and there isn't any room for both of them to doubt. "And she won't say no. If it takes her awhile to come around though, you can just come in through the fire escape."

Albert's window is a little small for that regularly, but Jet's scrawny enough he should be able to squeeze in.

The mental image produced with Albert's words gets a laugh out of Jet. "Sure, I'll live on your roof and sneak in like a bandit through your window."

Hopefully no cops'd spot him or that would be the end of that; Mrs. Heinrich was nice, but he was pretty sure she'd have little tolerance for delinquents who broke her rules.

More hopefully still, maybe they wouldn't have to do that part at all. Just thinking about it made him wish the day would go by faster so he wouldn't have to keep wondering about it.

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