Author's Note: Because SOMEONE needed to write this pairing. Also my first SA fic and my first EVER slash fic although at least for now it's only implied, unrequited. Melchior's charator at least is probably more musical verse. One shot for now but may be expanded R&R –also this is unbetaed, if someone would like to beta, please let me know. As usual I own none of this.

Moritz sighed and rubbed his aching head. He carefully folded the pages along their worn creases for what seemed like the thousandth time and stuck Melchior's essay back in its hiding place behind the molding of his bedroom wall.

He heard his mother's voice raise to greet the boy himself and Moritz began to panic, fumbling to get the essay away before Melchior came upstairs.

"It's so wonderful to see you again Herr Gabor!" his mother sighed from the kitchen, "first in your class again I hear? If only you could rub off a little on Moritz, but you do set such a wonderful example!"

Moritz could not help snorting. If only his mother knew what kind of example Melchior was setting! He finally shoved the uncooperative essay into the tiny slot and bounded over to his bookshelf, grabbed something, and dove onto his bed, doing his best to make it look as though he had been sitting there the whole time.

The Moment he entered the room Melchior saw through his friend's ruse.

"Your reading skills have certainly improved since last I saw you Herr Stiefel." Melchior teased as he entered the room.

Moritz stammered guiltily "Wh-wh-what ever do you mean Melchi?"

"I mean that not only are you reading a geometry textbook- which is a subject you hate, but you are reading it upside down."

Moritz mentally kicked himself. Really he had no reason to feel guilty. Melchior had written the essay so that Moritz could read it. There was no shame in doing just that, his guilt came from what he had tried in vain to find there, but there was no need to explain that to Melchior, not now, when he barely understood it himself.

"I was reading your essay again," Moritz admitted.

"I would think you had it memorized by now," laughed Melchior.

"Just about," grumbled Moritz so low Melchior almost did not hear it. He paused, Moritz knew the question he wanted to ask, but he was afraid to have it answered and even more afraid of how his friend would react. He could feel, more than see Melchior's eyes on him. He knew that if he looked up those eyes would be warm, like melted chocolate that a child had spilled on the street but full of genuine concern over anything that might distress his friend. What he did not know, was how he would react when he looked into those eyes, and so Moritz summoned his strength and chose to ask the question quickly while he could still grasp at some scrap of control.

"How do you know all those things in the essay?" Moritz finally brought himself to look up and saw that Melchior had begun to laugh. Moritz felt happiness fill him like steam issuing out of a tea kettle at his friends laughter. When Melchior smiled those eyes lit up and it seemed like pure happiness was coming through them.

Just as these thoughts started to drift toward Moritz's conscience Melchior's laughter stopped.

Melchior did not wish to be insensitive; he loved his friend passionately and wanted to be a guide where he knew all adults had failed them both. Melchior was also keenly aware of the pain Moritz's first sexual awareness was causing. At the same time an important part of the knowledge Melchior wanted to impart to his friend was the ultimate ordinariness of it all. True Melchior had experienced this thing to be wonderful yet, at the same time it was not worthy of the fear and mystery their parents had surrounded it with. Melchi tried to be delicate and started off on his explanation several times, weighing his words and watching Moritz's now expectant and nervous face.

"Because I have experienced it… with our childhood friend…Wendla."

Moritz felt nausea rising in him, the answer that he had feared, for no reason that he could explain, or perhaps care to explain, had been handed to him, so matter-of-factly that it almost seemed comical.

Melchior studied his friends face and misinterpreted his unease.

"But you see Moritz we're both fine! It's nothing to be afraid of!"

"It is!" gasped out Moritz before he could stop himself. His breath was ragged and uneven as he took in his friend's shock, concern and puzzlement. After a few minutes Moritz spoke his voice strangely clam considering that he was suddenly aware of all the blood rushing through his body, "I think it's best if I was unaccompanied right now, I have a great deal of studying to do."

Melchior did not try to argue but felt as if his stomach had just been ripped out of him. Ever since he could first speak Moritz had been the one to understand his mutterings, the only one who was truly unafraid of his ideas. Now, for the first time both boys were acutely aware that there was a barrier between them. Each could see the other, but they could not touch to comfort one another and neither one knew enough about the barrier to tell if it could ever be crossed.