Right. He wants peace.

He enters the machine gun position and sits beside the gray field man. They sit silently, but there’s no tension or wonder of danger. Those things are away. Far away.

“Graeber,” the man says suddenly. “Wie geht es dir?”

“Mir geht es gut,” Graeber takes a moment. “Könnte besser sein…”

The man nods as he understands perfectly. “Es geht dir gut.”

Graeber reaches for the cigarettes but stops himself. He doesn’t feel the itch to smoke. It feels like he knows this man, but he looks over. Graeber cannot decide if this is someone he knows or not. “Who are you?”

The man is silent. “Someone not so ordinary.”

“I figured,” Graeber wasn’t amused by the response, so he pressed. “I've seen you somewhere, haven’t I?”

“Many times,” the man seems amused. “More than you know, perhaps.”

“I think so,” Graeber looks around, now feeling different. More venerable less worried. “Should we be scared of the end?”

The man adjusts. “You should be more afraid of what the goal is.”

“What goal?”

“Your goal,” the man replies.

“To survive, I guess,” Graeber laughs. “To live another day.”

“For what reason, though? Why would you live to see the end you’re questioning?”

“You’ll get one of us shot if anyone hears this,” Graeber means to warn but realizes he is unafraid of that happening. “I want a better Germany, I guess. I’m sure you understand. I just don’t know if I’m now— I don’t know if there is a better Germany in the end.”

“Then why fight? You’re unsure.”

“Because I know what I’m fighting is bad,” Graeber thinks harder. “I know the Russians are bad. They’re bad people.”

“Are you the better persons?” The man says, turning slightly.

“Some of us are,” Graeber says. “I think some of us try to keep a good image. I think some of us try very hard…”

…

…

“Herr Hoffman,” Lorelei saluted flatly as she spotted her neighbor. Even adorned with civilian clothes, she treated him like a proper superior.

“Frau Kruger,” Lukas lazily did the same, more to impress her than actually do his duty. “How are you this morning?”

“Very fine,” she nods. “Did you still want to get coffee?”

Lukas glanced down at his shoes. He forgot about asking her out the night before. “Oh, of course.”

He looked at her uniform and frowned. “Would you mind changing?”

She frowned deeper than him. “Why?”

“I’d rather not get glances at us while we drink. Someone is bound to ask some idiotic question about the war if they see you dressed like that,” Lukas says.

She scoffs. “Maybe I’ll keep it on. Maybe then I’ll hear about the front instead of getting blown off by you.”

“Don’t be like that,” Lukas chides.

“Entschuldigung,” Lorelei says. “I’m curious, is all. You understand.”

“I do and don’t. I’ll talk more about it later. I promise.”

The two young adults had shared each other’s company ever since meeting each other. A good and friendly relationship was being made, and now it was becoming hard to imagine everyday life without at least seeing one another. Lukas especially enjoyed Lorelei’s voice whenever he caught her rehearsing a line of some kind to speak into a mic. Despite sounding a bit boyish when she spoke at a level tone, the soft monotone voice she used to talk for formal reasons was quite pleasant to listen to.

It was easy to forget the bad when all he could listen to was the good— even if the words weren’t necessarily about something good. Life could have been decent, but after a while, he started to experience the ever-growing pressure from the air. Without meaning to, the two German's relationships steadily grew to a more intimate status... The rapid devolvement of their feelings allowed for more dangerous situations to become tests of their feelings.

“Lukas!” His mother shouted as he bolted from the house. “We have a shelter here! Come back!”

“Ich kann hier nicht bleiben!” He wailed. “Ich muss sie finden!!”

It was later in the day, and Lorelei should have been coming back from the headquarters Lukas had dutifully avoided since his arrival. He prayed that she was returning and that he’d see her.

Under the frantic breathing and sirens— he ran into someone. He was furious at first, but when he saw the brown eyes of the owner, he gasped and tackled them. “Lorelei! Lorelei! Oh, mein Gott!”

“Was? Was?!” She grabbed him, confused by his show of emotion. “Did— were— your house?! Was it hit?!”

“It’s fine!” He said. “It’s all fine! I just knew you weren’t home. So I went out for you!”

A harsh blush came over Lorelei’s face, but she had no time to express her own worries for him. So instead, she gulped down and **** Lukas away from her. “We really should find shelter. You’re foolish to come out like this.”

“My parents have a shelter—“

“Nein!” She shouted. “We’ll go to my house instead.”

“They’ll worry.”

“They shouldn’t,” she said. “My place is newer, so the basement is ready for such inconveniences.”

…

…

“God damnit,” Graeber dragged a body outside a battered trench. “Another Russian.”

Felix laughed. “Shit. You’d think we’ve bled them dry at this point. We’ve found 20 of ours and over 80 of theirs.”

Graeber panted hard while he rolled up his sleeves— he looked outward. The entire unit was digging up the remains of another engagement. This village had traded owners continuously; now it’s notched back in Nazi control.

Felix whistled as he went through the dead Russian’s overcoat. “Some of these Russians look very fuckable. Don’t you think?”

Graeber blinked and looked at Felix as he flaunted a picture of a nameless woman. The photo was black and white, but the image was clean. The idea was of a Russian girl, a little too young for his taste.

“She’s a cute kid,” Graeber said, fishing a Mosin from the trench.

“Cute kid,” Felix distastefully repeats. “If I had my way, I would fuck every Bolshevik cell out of her and flaunt her to the barracks.”

Graeber sighed. “You wouldn’t let yourself touch a Russian.”

Felix barked with laughter. It came out youthful and dark. “You’re too right, Graeber!” He lights a cigarette and starts puffing clouds of thick smoke. He growls to clear his throat and then spits. “I haven’t dicked down anything in too long. I need a furlough, and get me some Aryan puss.”

The last girl Graeber touched wasn’t human, but at least passed for an Aryan. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. And a form that would make any man weak. While he recalled Alicen, Graeber got unintentionally getting hard until he saw the dead Russian again. Now a flaccid cock occupied his pants. “Lukas is probably with someone. His furlough took him all the way back to the heart of Germany.”

Felix made some thrusting motions with his hips. “Making me jealous with that talk. Lukas is probably wasting it away.”

…

…

A bottle of schnapps rolls idly in the kitchen as Lorelei sloppily unbuttons her blouse. Lukas watches with a drunk, drooling smile as his neighbor struggles to undress herself. “Brauchst du Hilfe?”

“Hau ab,” Lorelei snaps her button and waives. She licks her lips and trips against Lukas, causing the two lovers to giggle at each other for a few moments at least. Finally, she slides to her knees and clears her throat.

Only half-dressed, Lorelei unbuckles Lukas out of his civilian clothes and pulls his trousers down to his ankles. There’s a prominent lump in his underwear that she kisses. Lukas brushes back her hair and forces her face against the bulge, humping her face slightly while she giggles and sucks on the fabric. "We shouldn't be doing this should we?" She moans drunkenly.

"Fuck the rules," Lukas reaches for the bottle they were last drinking out of before they casually brushed hands.

Lorelei laughs, licking his full length. "What rules?"

"Yes! Fuck them!" Lukas proudly announces drinking the bottle. She takes the bottle from his grip and finishes the rest of the bottle for him, joining him suddenly.

"Speaking of which~..." She pulls on his underwear, allowing his cock to spring out to full view. Her first sight of Lukas's member, it was something to behold, she supposed, but anything about Lukas in her drunken state was something to behold. "How should we fuck each other then? Maybe you should pretend I'm the rules?"