"I'm afraid that if you don't find some way to bring up your grade in my class, Mr. Stiefel, you aren't going to pass." Moritz sighed dejectedly, staring down at his plain black shoes. He hadn't had much faith that he was going to pass English at all this year, but having to hear it said out loud made him feel so much worse. He glanced back up at his teacher, his eyes dull.

  "Is there anything I can do?" he asked softly, looking anywhere but her eyes. Miss Fischer stared down at him through her thin glasses, the bored look on her face replacing her normally irritated expression. She had to think about his question for a few moments before finally answering.

 "I suppose I could ask one of my other students to tutor you," she told him, shuffling a stack of papers sitting on her desk, not looking back at the young teenager standing in front of her desk. Moritz moved his weight onto his other leg as he just stood there, feeling more than a little bit anxious. He had to clear his throat so Miss Fischer would realize he was still there. The brunette could have sworn that he spotted her rolling her eyes.

  "Just come by my classroom during lunch tomorrow and I'll have found someone to tutor you by then," she promised, then going back to grading her papers. Moritz's shoulders slumped as he walked out into the now empty hallway. All of the other students were probably home by now, considering the final bell had rung almost twenty minutes ago. He walked out of the glass double doors at the end of the long hallway, breathing in the fresh air. Moritz almost smiled as a warm breeze ruffled his light brown hair. He stopped for a moment to just enjoy the nice weather, savoring these last couple of minutes before he had to go home to his asshole of a father.

  He took his time walking down the cracked sidewalk, occasionally stopping to look around at the birds or an especially cute squirrel he saw, searching for something to eat. It only took around ten minutes for Moritz to get home, he had to guess since he didn't own a watch. He quietly opened the front door, not wanting his dad to try and come talk to him, and hurried up the stairs to his bedroom. Moritz all but threw his backpack and looks down onto the floor and collapsed onto his bed, groaning. Having a tutor meant he was going to have to make an effort to get along with them, and if there was one thing Moritz wasn't very good at, it was making friends.

That was probably why he's only ever had one best friend and her name was Ilse. But she moved a few years ago and Moritz hadn't seen her since. There are one or two other boys in his classes that he knew. Other teenagers that he sat by, or had almost all of his class with he would sometimes talk to, but they weren't close enough that Moritz would call them his friends. He laid down with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. Moritz let out another sigh, letting his eyes fall shut, enjoying the peace and quiet. He would worry about his new tutor tomorrow.

  The next day came and before he knew it, Moritz was back in Miss Fischer's classroom during lunch, waiting to meet whoever his tutor was going to be. He desperately hoped that whoever she'd picked was someone he could get along with. The last thing he needed was to be stuck getting tutored by someone who hated him. Miss Fischer walked into her classroom moments later, with another boy trailing behind her. She turned to Moritz with a smile, looking back and forth between the two boys.

"Well," she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "This is Melchior Gabor, he'll be tutoring you some days after school."

Both teenagers examined each other. Moritz found himself staring at Melchior and almost started blushing. He was incredibly handsome, with fluffy brown hair that he would just love to run his fingers through, and piercing eyes. He immediately stopped himself there. It wasn't proper to be having thoughts like these about this other teenager that he barely even knew. All of sudden, Melchior held out his hand for Moritz to shake. He stared at it for a few seconds, before hesitantly reaching forward and grabbing it. They shook hands while Miss Fischer smiled happily, thrilled to see the two of them starting to get along.

Miss Fischer shooed them out into the hallway a few minutes later, telling them to talk for a little while, get to know each other. Melchior sat on a bench outside, and Moritz sat down next to him. He couldn't really think of anything to say, so they sat in a semi-awkward silence for a minute or two.

"Um, thanks for doing this," Moritz finally managed to say, glancing over at the other boy. Melchior gave him a kind smile back, his eyes gleaming a bit in the bright sunlight.

"No problem. I've been pretty bored these past few weeks anyway," he replied, pulling his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knee. Moritz prayed that he wouldn't start blushing. How could one boy be so damn good-looking? The bell rang only a few seconds later, meaning they both had to hurry back to class before long. Melchior looked over at him one more time as he stood up, holding a thick leather book in his hand.

"How about you come over to my house after school? I can walk you there," he offered as Moritz stood up, dusting off his pants. He agreed and found himself somewhat looking forward to his first lesson as he sat through the rest of school that day.

The walk from school to Melchior's house was a quiet one, with each of the teenagers walking in a comfortable silence. Melchior held open the front door for him politely, and Moritz walked inside with a tiny smile. Moritz let out a quiet sigh as he set his backpack down on the floor and then pulled out his English textbook. Today there wasn't that much homework assigned, just a short essay and then a chapter in their English textbooks. Melchior had promised that they would do a bit of studying together after they finished doing the assigned homework.

Moritz honestly never got the point of having to do homework. If he already had to spend eight hours each day at school, why should he have to come home and do more work? It just didn't make sense to him.

Melchior pulled up an extra chair to his desk, and assuming it was for him, Moritz sat down. Their shoulders were practically touching, that was how close they were sitting. The other boy plopped his notebook down in front of him and Moritz hurried to do the same, desperately not wanting to embarrass himself in front of this strange beautiful teenager that for some reason agreed to tutor him.

His face almost turned pale when a realized that he'd forgotten to bring any pencils. The brunette rummaged around in his bag for one but came up short. Moritz racked his mind, trying to remember what happened to all of his pencils. He sighed in defeat. It must still be at school, sitting on his desk this very instant. Melchior must have noticed that Moritz wasn't doing anything, so he nudged his shoulder lightly.

"What's wrong?"

Moritz's face turned red with embarrassment. "I've forgotten my pencil," he mumbled, just loud enough for Melchior to hear. He nodded, then reached down, opened one of the drawers in his desk, and pulled out a new pencil.

Melchior handed it to him with a smile, then went back to scribbling something down in his notebook. Moritz leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixated at the wall, wondering why he felt so flustered around Melchior.

"Thank god that's over with." Moritz breathed in deeply, relieved to finally be finished with all of his work for the day.

With Melchior's help and recurrence, he actually felt for once like he accomplished something. It felt nice. Melchior laughed at that, and though he didn't say it, he completely agreed with Moritz. School was so stifling and most of the time he just wished that he could be alone, preferably sitting down by the creek a little ways from his house, writing away in his leather notebook.

As he looked over at Moritz, he couldn't help but smile at the look on the other boy's face. It looked as if someone had taken a huge weight off of his shoulders. Melchior hoped that he wasn't starting to get a small crush on his new friend, that would be annoying. Plus he always found that romance got in way of more important projects. But looking over at Moritz, he thought maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

But anyway, who even gets a crush on someone they literally just met earlier that day?

Moritz met his gaze for a moment before his eyes drifted over towards the window. His eyes widened after a moment, finally noticing how dark it had gotten. The brown-haired teenager hurried to shove his things into his backpack, then threw it over his shoulder as he stood up. Melchior watched him curiously, with one eyebrow raised.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, staring up at him, fiddling with the pencil in his hands. Moritz sighed wistfully, glancing down at the floor for a few seconds before looking back at the boy sitting in front of him.

"I didn't notice how late it had gotten," he explained, taking a small step towards the door. Melchior nodded, an understanding look on his seemingly perfect face.

"So for our next lesson, do you want to work here or at your house?" Melchior asked politely, meeting Moritz's eyes.

"Here," Moritz said quickly, not wanting Melchior to have meet his dad. Melchior stood up and walked over to him, and for a moment Moritz was confused before he realized that Melchior was walking him to the door.

"Okay, great," Melchior told him as they walked down the stairs. He opened the door for the other boy and was a bit confused when he hesitated. Moritz nervously tugged at the bottom of his shirt, a bad habit that he was going to try and break one of these days.

"I just wanted to thank you again for doing this," he said quietly, making himself meet Melchior's eyes. Eye contact wasn't exactly a thing he was great at either. Melchior smiled at him, and Moritz could have sworn his eyes almost sparkled in the dark.

"It's my pleasure."

The next couple of weeks went by in a blur, and it wasn't long before Moritz and Melchior grew to be close friends. Their tutoring lessons were every couple of days after school, and if it was too late to walk home, Moritz would just spend the night at Melchior's house. Whenever his dad would ask where he was all night, he'd just say he was with a friend. But his dad didn't care very much anyway.

On one of these nights, Moritz was sitting in Melchior's bed, with tears rolling down his cheeks. Melchior had gone to use the bathroom, and as soon as he came back into his bedroom his eyes widened at the sight of his friend crying. He hurried over to Moritz and sat down beside him, looking concerned.

"Mo, what's wrong?" he asked softly, gently rubbing small circles on his right shoulder. Moritz sniffled, then wiped away a couple of tears with his sleeve. He met Melchior's eyes and silently willed himself to stop crying.

"It's my dad," he confessed quietly, speaking so low that his friend could just barely hear him. It was quiet for a few seconds, and the only sound was the wind and rain battering against the window.

"What happened?" Melchior whispered, moving a little closer to the brunette and putting his arm around him protectively.

"When I got home my dad was in one of his bad moods, like how he always gets when he's been drinking. He took his anger out on me, as usual," Moritz told him, sounding a bit angry. Melchior was shocked, and even more so when Moritz showed him his other cheek. Somehow he hadn't seen the huge bruise forming there. Melchior reached up and gently pressed his hand to the bruise, wanting to be of some comfort to his dear friend.

"Oh Moritz," he whispered, looking as if he might start crying himself. "I'm so sorry."

Moritz shook his head. "Don't be. It's my own fault anyway."

Melchior immediately shook his head, making sure Moritz was meeting his gaze. "This isn't your fault," he muttered, staring into his eyes and before he could think about what he was doing, Melchior lean forward and kissed him. Moritz gasped into the kiss, but he didn't pull away. He had never kissed anyone before, but it felt surprisingly nice. All of the bad thoughts disappeared from his mind as he pressed further into the kiss, leaning into Melchior's soft, and reassuring touch.

When they finally broke the kiss, Moritz stared with wide eyes at his best friend. His face was bright red. Melchior thought it was cute, and he resisted the urge to move forward and kiss him again.

"Why did you do that?" Moritz asked, not sounding angry like Melchior had feared, but more so curious. Melchior reached over and held his hand, squeezing it gently before answering.

"Because I like you, Mo." Moritz was at loss for words. He'd never had anyone like him romantically, and now all of sudden Melchior does? He didn't know what to do. On one hand, he really did like Melchior and he would even go as far as to say he loved the kiss.

So instead of sitting there, staring at his best friend blankly, Moritz whispered, "Kiss me again."

And Melchior did.