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the-blind-assassin-12 · 1 year ago

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What Fools

June Drabbles 2022... in 2023 Days 16 & 25 - Flower Crown & Midsummer

A/N: Better 365 days late than never, right? Hahahaha. This was the ONE AND ONLY one shot that I did not finish from last year’s June drabble challenge, and damnit I wasn’t going to let another whole June pass without giving this one its due. Dieter and Reader deserve it so here we are. This one takes place in the Bad Idea universe, after Vena Amoris.

Word Count: 5, 636

Warnings: language, brief smut, mention of needles/tattooing, stupid fucking tabloids, Dieter’s hair in the sunlight

Summary: You have a gallery opening in L.A. Dieter has a part in a play in New York. You can’t be in two places at once, but you can do something to illustrate how important your relationship is - and how important it will always be.

You were already awake when your alarm sounded, the tingling chime mixing with the gravel of Dieter’s groan to draw a smile across your face. Good morning to you, too, Bravo. One of your hands came up to cover the arm that he’d flung heavily over you in an attempt to keep you in place while the other reached for your phone on the nightstand. Eyes still shut, you groped blindly until your fingers closed around the device and you let out a sigh. Time to start the day.

Dieter had a different suggestion, though, and he gave it to you as you finally blinked yourself awake enough to silence your alarm, his arm snaking more tightly around your middle.

“Throw it out the fucking window.” His lips were still pressed to the top of your shoulder, the skin there damp from the drag of his mouth and the flick of his tongue, which was what had actually woken you up. His warm breath combined with the low rumble of the words he spoke directly into your flesh sent a slow moving heat wave through your lower belly. The fact that you could feel him straining at his pajama pants, already half-hard, and not at all shy about it, only fueled the growing flame.

Oh, this man is going to be the death of me before eight a.m. on a Monday.

“Stay in bed until mine goes off.” His touch roved up beneath the hem of your tank top, fingertips brushing lightly over your abdomen before drifting up to stroke the underside and inner curves of your breasts. “I’m not done sleeping with you yet.”

You took a slow breath in through your nose, letting it out in a hum as you shifted your hips teasingly back into him. I can play that game, too. At the increased friction, he released a throaty sigh that devolved into something deeper, and you felt the scrape of his teeth where your neck met your shoulder. You’d purposely set your alarm twenty- five minutes earlier than you needed to, because you knew how difficult leaving the bed would be that morning. And because you knew Dieter, you knew he would do you no favors in making it any easier. And I don’t want him to.

Your grin grew as you rolled your lower half against him again. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Dieter.” Reaching back with the arm that had been resting atop his, you raked your fingernails through the untamed curls and waves of his hair. He responded with another groan from where he was mouthing at the skin behind your ear, the sound vibrating through you and spurring you on. “Can’t miss my flight. I have that dinner meeting, remember? And today’s your last dress rehearsal. You have to-”

He cut you short by turning you to your back and lowering himself down over you, pinning you to the bed with his hips. “Your flight’s not until noon, and I don’t have to be anywhere-” The tip of his nose trailed along your jawbone until his lips could land perfectly in the place that he knew would turn you to jelly before finishing his sentence. “-until two fucking thirty. And you know it.”

“Was it two thirty?” You hummed as your head tipped back into your pillow, exposing more of your throat to Dieter’s insatiable mouth. “I thought it was ten thirty.”

“Nope.” I know. He shook his head, the sleep rumpled ends of his hair tickling your chin as he kissed across your collarbone. Using one finger, he slid the strap of your top aside so he could continue. That feels amazing. Your hands dove under his shirt, palms gliding up the warm, wide plane of his back as the fabric bunched up on your forearms. “‘S two thirty.” He mumbled, letting you pull the practically threadbare undershirt over his head until he was only wearing it by the sleeves. “And until then?” Lifting himself onto his left elbow, he yanked his right arm free before switching to do the same on the other side, your body still caged beneath him and a mischievous glint chasing the rest of the grogginess from his eyes. “There’s only one thing on my agenda.”

You arched one eyebrow, tongue flicking out to wet your lips as you shifted your lower half against him. “Just one?”

Dieter didn’t hesitate before he nodded. “Just one.”

Within seconds your tank top had joined his tee on the floor, your underwear following not long after, and then the foil wrapper of a condom from your nightstand drawer fluttered down to top off the pile as Dieter got to work on his to-do list.

Summer had the tendency to either stretch and pull like boardwalk taffy, languid and slow, or else swirl to a rapid close, whipping from June straight into August with all the speed and grace of a hurricane. The current summer had been a mix of both. Dieter’s work had pulled him away to Los Angeles for the better part of June. While you missed him when he was away, you had been just as busy with the summer session you’d agreed to teach, and so the weeks had passed relatively quickly. Once he was back in your apartment, though - in your arms and in your bed - the two of you had worked to melt the hours instead of burn them away, relishing the few days that neither of you had any commitments outside of each other.

But with Dieter being cast in A Midsummer Night’s Dream for Shakespeare in the park, and you traveling for gallery openings and conferences, the two of you had to make due with the snippets of time you had together in the early hours and evenings when both of you were home. That was fine with you though, and you treated those mornings like the last drip of an ice cream cone, licking them from your fingers and savoring the flavor, letting it remind you of what was waiting once things wound down again in the Fall.

On the other side of September. When we… when I get to��

You gasped as he pulled back just enough to change his angle, his next thrust going deeper and pulling a low moan from your lips.

When I get to marry you, Dieter Bravo.

The thought of forever with him while he was buried inside you was almost enough to drag another strangled sigh from your lungs. But before that could happen, Dieter was kissing you, swallowing the sounds of your pleasure as though they could sustain him. As though he craved them just as much as he craved the rest of you. There was not a single thing about him that didn’t make you burn, and to know that he felt the same way about you only intensified it further.

The tip of your tongue slid across his lower lip before you took the fullness of it between your teeth and sucked. Dieter responded with a husky hiss of a sigh, and a devastatingly deliberate roll of his hips. A thin sheen of sweat had started to form over your skin from the heat that he was sending through your body in waves, but you urged him even closer with both of your palms pressed into his back as though you were trying to leave your handprints in the sand before the surf came through again. You released his lip to let out a low moan that started as his name and turned into something incoherent as one of his large hands came up to cup your left cheek. His patchy beard scratched along the right side of your jaw as he worked his mouth towards your ear, and with another agonizingly, delightfully slow thrust, he growled the words that would send you crashing over the edge.

“I Love you. So fucking much. All I need.”

You cried out as you came, the sound muffled by his flesh as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, but audible enough to pull him right along with you. Dieter moaned into your hair and the pillow as his hips snapped and stuttered out of rhythm, his fingers spreading wide against the side of your face. The angle of his arm gave you a full view of his tattoos - both the thick black lines of the open triangle, and the colorful recreation of one of the pieces you’d created together. You reached over to trail two fingers lightly over his inner forearm. His full weight pressed down on you then as he collapsed into you, your legs twining with his and both of you panting unevenly. Oh, fuck.

Closing your eyes you brought your hand up to the back of his head, fingers disappearing in his disheveled curls. “I love you, too, Dieter.” Your voice was thin and raspy but you knew he heard you. Making a loose grip in his hair, you tugged to lift his face level with yours, a soft shine present in his deep brown eyes that made your still-racing heart go tumbling over itself. “So fucking much.”

You kissed him slowly then, taking a breath in through your nose so you could keep your lips sealed to his for a few seconds longer, and smiling into it as you felt him do the same. On any other morning you would have pulled him into the shower with you after that. But you both knew you would have needed to set your alarm much earlier than you did to account for another round under the water while still making your flight - and the “meeting” you had scheduled shortly after landing at LAX. As you rinsed the soap from your body you grinned to yourself, imagining Dieter’s reaction when he finds out that it wasn’t a gallery owner you were meeting with that night to discuss another showing in the future, but Fiona, the same artist who did his painting tattoo.

Because if I have to miss opening night while I’m out there, I’m going to make the best of it.

The two of you spent the remainder of the morning in your sunlit kitchen, picking at a bowl of fruit over coffee until it was time for you to leave for the airport. When it was, he walked you down to the car that was waiting for you outside of your building. He set your suitcase down at the curb as Vince, Dieter’s personal driver whenever he was in New York, reached for it to put it in the trunk. Thanking the man, who responded with a nod and a smile, Dieter turned and placed both of his hands on your hips, using them to pull you closer. “C’mere.”

You placed your palms flat against his chest, bare beneath the bathrobe he’d pulled on over his sleep shorts, and looked up at him. His head was tilted, the angle of it blocking the sun from shining in your eyes but allowing it to swim through the strands of his hair, still bed-rumpled despite having been awake for a few hours. The sight filled your heart and you wondered how it was possible for you to continue falling in love with him. At the same time, you knew you would never stop, and the thought from earlier repeated in your mind.

I can’t wait to marry this man.

You slid one hand up the side of his neck, thumb stroking the skin there. “I’m right here.” Wrinkling your nose, you leaned in to kiss the heart-shaped patch in his beard. “But I gotta go, Dieter.”

His arms wound around your waist and shoulders as he pulled you into his body. “I know you do.” Turning his face, he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’ve got places to be.” He tightened his arms, crushing you closer. “You’re gonna knock ‘em dead.”

You laughed, returning the hug. “So are you.” Leaning in again as he chuckled , you lowered your head this time so that your kiss landed near the hollow of his throat, a few inches above the inked butterfly on his chest. “Can’t wait to see the show when I get home.”

“I can’t wait to see you when you get home,” he countered through a grin, stepping back to loosen his hold on you. “But yeah, I’m excited for you to see it, too. And I’m excited for the show to end, so I can get out to L.A. to see the gallery.” Dieter’s palms slid down your sides, and then he reached for both of your hands, bringing them between you. “Hey.” You felt the gentle pressure of his thumbs near your wrists as he squeezed. Blinking up at him, you watched his brown eyes soften. They still held onto some of the jovial laughter that you’d just shared, but the look in them had deepened. It took your breath away. “The collection is incredible. You should be really proud of yourself for it.” Raising your left hand, he kissed the knuckle of your ring finger, just above the stone he’d put there. “I sure as hell am.”

“I…” You circled your wrist from his grasp and laid your hand against his cheek. “I actually am, Dieter.” Scratching your nails through his beard and into the curls that hung around his ears, you grinned at the throaty sound he made. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” This time it was him that leaned in for a kiss, catching you slightly off guard. “Now,” he continued to kiss you as he spoke. “You better go.” His teeth closed gently around your lower lip and then released it, only to catch your lips with his once more. “So you can get back.”

You shook your head, laughing as your nose bumped his. “Yeah, I guess I should.” Letting out a sigh, you looked up at him again, carding your fingers through his sun-drenched hair. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Safe flight. Call me when you land, yeah?” At that he dropped his hands to his sides, the rings on his fingers catching the midday sunlight.

You nodded. “Promise.”

“Alright.” He winked at you. “Now get out of here.”

– – – –

After an uneventful flight - you’d used the time to look over some capstone project proposals from the handful of students you’d agreed to take on for the final summer session - you landed in sunny Los Angeles. As soon as you’d gotten your suitcase from baggage claim, you pulled out your phone to call Dieter, pressing the video button and waiting for him to pick up. He might not though. You turned your wrist to check your watch. Dress rehearsal starts soon, so…

But just as you were getting ready to hang up and shoot him a text instead, Dieter’s face filled your screen and you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out at the sight of him. Two stubby little prosthetic horns had been attached to his forehead, and they peeked out between his curls which had been styled with super hold gel. Set around his head and balanced on the horns, was a crown of colorful blossoms - snapdragons, hyacinth and larkspur. You recalled the conversation when he told you that he’d personally requested those specific flowers be part of his costume, because they symbolized deception, playfulness and haughtiness, all qualities that his jesterlike character embodied and ones that he wanted to make sure were represented. Stickler for the details, aren’t you, Dieter?

It was part of what made him so good at what he did, the way he tried to completely immerse himself in the identity of his characters. You realized, though, that it didn’t end with acting, that Dieter paid the same level of attention to everything he cared about. Oh I love this man so much it's stupid.

Pressing your lips together as you hid another laugh, you finally greeted him. “Oh, wow. Hey there, handsome.” Pointing to the wreath of blossoms, you smiled. “Looks good.”

“Hey yourself.” He flashed a grin that you felt through the screen. “You look good.”

That earned him an eye roll. “Dieter.” From the way his grin broke into a chuckle, you could tell that the screen and the distance did nothing to dilute the feeling for him, either. “I just got off a five and a half hour flight. I look like-”

“Like I want to do things to you.” His tone turned into gravel and you nearly stumbled over your feet. Oh, fuck. “That’s what you look like right now.” He tilted his head and the flower halo shifted. “Things that’ll make you-”

“Jesus, Dieter!” Your eyes went wide as you cut him off, and then you were both laughing again. “You know, they really nailed it with your casting for this play. You as Puck? You’re just as-”

Poking at the tip of one of the protrusions from his forehead, he lifted an eyebrow. “Horny?”

You groaned and gave him another eye roll that turned into a smirk. “Well I was going to say mischievous, but yeah, that works too.”

“Only for you though.”

From anyone else in the world it would have sounded like some cheesy line. It would have sounded smarmy - like something someone would say to deflect your attention from something they didn’t want you to know. But not from Dieter. From him it was sincere - he’d never been anything but sincere with you, right from the start. “Yeah,” you responded, biting down on your lower lip. “Same goes for me with you, Bravo.”

Someone out of view called Dieter’s name, and he turned to let them know that he’d be right there. With a sigh, he turned back to you. “Alright, looks like they’re ready to get started. I have to go.” He said your name then, staring straight into the camera so that it was almost like he was looking in your eyes. “Good luck with your meeting. Can’t wait to hear about it later.”

You thanked him, telling him that you hoped rehearsal went well and that you’d call him later that night before you went to bed. And the whole time you hoped that he couldn’t read the excitement that you were barely concealing over the truth about your “meeting.”

As soon as you finished your call with Dieter, you opened the text thread that you had with Fiona. Scrolling through the messages that you’d sent back and forth over the past few weeks discussing the details of your tattoo, you smiled to yourself. You’d had the idea as soon as Dieter had gotten back to New York after his last trip out to the West Coast, when he’d had Fiona reproduce a sliver of one of the paintings the two of you had worked on together on his inner arm. Yours was going to be a different cut section of the piece to complement Dieter’s, and smaller than his. Fiona was almost as excited as you were to be able to make it happen even though you’d only be out in L.A. for a few days. Typing out a quick message to let her know that you just had to drop your things off at the apartment - the one Dieter had lived in before the two of you started living together, and that he decided to keep so that either of you would have a familiar place to stay when you were traveling for work - before you’d be on your way over to her shop. She sent back a string of thumbs up and excited emojis along with a “see you soon!” and then you were on your way.

– – – –

The tattoo took a few hours, but true to what Dieter had said about the woman’s technique and personality, it didn’t feel that long. There were areas that hurt more than others, but she warned you about them before she started on those spots, and there was no part of it that was that bad. You even felt yourself relaxing at one point, watching in a trance as she filled in the colors to bring the art to life on your arm. When she needed to take a break to stretch, she brought you back an iced tea and the two of you chatted for a while as though you’d known her for much longer than a day.

“You and Dieter are great,” she said, just before getting ready to settle in to finish. Her smile was bright. “I can tell how happy you both make each other and-” She gestured at your arm. “Well this is just some real romantic shit.” That had gotten you to laugh, the woman joining you. “I mean that in the best way possible, by the way. Seriously, I’ve done all the cliche couples tattoos you could possibly imagine. And then about a million more.” She sighed and sat back down on her stool, waiting for you to make yourself comfortable again, too. “But this? This is unique just to you two. And I know we just met today, but that is very Dieter, and it seems really right for you, too. I’m just… I’m happy for you both.”

Your cheeks hurt almost as much as your arm as you grinned at her words, thanking her. “It means a lot to hear that.”

She nodded then, asking if you were ready for the final details. Before you knew it, the design was done and the woman was cleaning and wrapping your arm, giving you instructions on how to take care of it for the next few days. Luckily, you’d thought ahead and packed dresses and tops with loose fitting sleeves for the two night gallery event, wanting both to be comfortable in the warm weather, and to be able to conceal your surprise until you got home. You thanked Fiona again, letting her know that you’d add her and her boyfriend to the guest list for the gallery opening if they wanted to come. She told you enthusiastically that she would be there, and after paying and tipping the woman, you headed back to the apartment.

When you were finally settled in - suitcase unpacked, takeout delivered, and clothes changed - you pulled out your phone again to call Dieter, angling the screen carefully so that your arm wasn’t in view. This time, when his face filled the screen, it had been scrubbed of stage makeup and sans horns. But like always, your heart swelled the moment you saw him. Oh, look at him.

He was sprawled in your bed, laying on his stomach and clutching what you realized was your pillow. His hair was wild, the way it always was when he washed it and let it air dry without running anything but his fingers through it. He looked tired, but comfortable, and happy, and when you glanced up at your own image in the corner, you saw that you looked exactly the same. Smiling at him, you spoke first. “Hey, handsome.”

“Hi.” He adjusted his position so that less of his face was hidden by the pillow, propping himself up on one elbow, his whole face lighting up with his yawning grin. “You look cozy.”

Leaning back into the cushion of the overstuffed chair you sat in, you nodded. “I am. Be cozier with you here though.” You carefully bent your freshly tattooed arm and laid it in your lap, making sure that the camera stayed on your face. “How was rehearsal? All set for tomorrow?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “A bunch of things went kind of …sideways?” You snorted. “But that’s the point. Means it should be smooth sailing.” He arched one brow. “For the first night, at least.”

You hummed. “Hopefully the magic lasts until the third night so I can see you all on top of your game.” You cocked your head to one side. “Although, it might be fun to see it a little sideways, too.”

That got a chuckle out of him, the sound deep and warm. “Yeah, well, if we all do our jobs right you’d never even know it was tilted.” That’s true. “How about you? How was the meeting? You book another show?”

Letting out a short, hesitant laugh, you swallowed and tried not to let your eyes give you away. “Uh, well it was a good meeting. Too soon to know anything definite, but-” Your tongue slipped out to lick your lips and you fought against peeking at your tattoo. “But I’m feeling good about it.”

“Good.” He switched the phone to his other hand and he rolled to his back, your pillow rolling with him. “And I’ll be there for that one.”

“Dieter, I just said nothing is set in stone, so-”

“Yeah but when it is,” he stretched his shoulders, letting out a quiet groan as he did. “I’ll be there.”

You felt momentarily guilty over keeping the truth about where you’d been earlier from him. He’s so damn supportive and sweet. But then you remembered that when Dieter had gotten his surprise tattoo, he’d kept it hidden from you for a full month. And this is only two more nights. You sighed. “Yeah, Dieter. You will be.”

The topic shifted back to the play then, Dieter letting you know that Anika had reached out to him because she was in the city and would be at the show. “We might get something to eat afterwards, too.” He blew out a breath and rolled his eyes. “I just wanted to tell you before the fucking internet blew up about it.”

You groaned. “Dieter, I don’t care what people say, okay? I know how you feel about me and how I feel about you, and that’s all I care about, so-”

“I fucking love you so damn much.” He shook his head, teeth showing through his smile. “And I know you know it. Just didn’t want you to get blind sided with it at the gallery thing. Tacky headlines and shit..”

“Thanks for telling me, Dieter.” You yawned then, the day catching up with you. “Tell Anika I said hi, and have a good time.”

“I will. And we will.” His mouth opened wide then, and he pointed at the screen in accusation. “That was your fault. I yawned because you did.”

“No,” you laughed. “You yawned because you’re tired. And so am I. And we both have big days tomorrow, so we should both get some sleep.”

“Wish we were getting it in the same bed.” You and me both.

“Dieter.” You narrowed your eyes at him and pursed your lips. “You know damn well if we were in the same bed we wouldn’t be doing much sleeping.” That earned you another laugh, this one weightier, and you knew it wouldn’t take him long to fall asleep once you hung up. I won’t be far behind him. “But yeah, I wish we were, too.”

“You’re right though, I’m beat. I was kind of dozing off before you called, so-”

“So let’s say goodnight, hmm?” You stood from the chair you occupied and started to make your way to the bedroom as he nodded. “I’ll talk to you before the show but crack an egg.” He rolled his eyes and snorted at your insistence to never wish him boldly harm by saying “break a leg”. Because we don’t need to invite injury. “I love you, Dieter.”

“Love you too. Sweet dreams.”

You dreamed of him that night, though it wasn’t exactly sweet. You dreamed of him and of you. Of him doing things to you like he’d teased about when you called him from the airport. And you woke up feeling great.

– – – –

The next two days flew by, and you couldn’t have been happier about that.

Not that you weren’t excited about what you were doing. You were thrilled. The gallery opening had gone off without a hitch. More than that, several of the pieces in the collection had sold between the two nights, leaving only a handful of others to sell throughout the duration of the showing. You’d been in touch with Dieter, too. Mostly via text, as both of you were working and not in the same time zone. But you’d talked on the phone and with video chat once or twice as well, Dieter telling you that both nights had gone well. By the time you were at LAX heading home, you were just itching to see it and him for yourself.

And to show him this. You glanced down at your arm, impressed at how the swelling was already down and starting to heal. I can’t wait to see his face.

The last conversation you’d had with him, his expression was less than thrilled over the round of tabloid headlines he all but predicted when he told you about his plans to see Anika.

While the fiancée is away, Bravo plays //CLICK FOR MORE//

Cold Feet in the Summer Heat for Dieter Bravo? Actor looking cozy with ex-girlfriend Anika Stoyanova following Midsummer performance

Xander Vance, Bravo’s Orion co-star and love interest front, row at the Delacorte - fuels speculation that the pair were more than on screen lovers

Artist fiancée nowhere to be found for first two nights of shows - Does this spell trouble in paradise for Dieter Bravo?

You rolled your eyes as you recalled the various alerts on your phone. Such bullshit. Sure, it sucked seeing those headlines and reading the venomous lies and stories attached to them. If you thought about it for too long, yeah, it hurt to know that there were people out there who took shots at your relationship - at Dieter and who he was, who you knew him to be, not to mention the terrible things you were sometimes called. People actually get paid to write that crap. Unbelievable. It bothered you, yes. But a lot had changed since the first horrible round of headlines had steamrolled through yours and Dieter’s lives. You’d learned how to handle the scrutiny and the speculation, how to ignore the unfounded rumors and how to take every comment from fans in stride. More importantly that anything though your relationship had grown strong and solid, and you were no longer worried that it would end over some stupid headlines. Because he made sure I knew that this is what matters to him.

It was the same for you.

Your flight landed in New York with just enough time for you to drop your things and home and head immediately back out the door to head to Central Park, finding your seat right before the actors took the stage. From the moment it began, you were completely wrapped up in the magic of Midsummer - in the warm night air and the swaying trees and the brilliant performances. When it was over, you were grinning ear to ear, on your feet applauding with a thousand others. Dieter was right. If anything went sideways, I missed it.

You made sure not to miss him for another second though, following his instructions to head backstage when it was over. “Security knows you’re coming. Some of the others are having family back after too so it’s fine.” Hearing him call you his family was something you’d never get tired of.

And neither was the way he kissed you when you’d been apart for more than a day. Even in public he managed to keep it looking decent as his tongue delved into your mouth and stroked slowly over yours, as though reminding you what it could do. You had to fight to stay standing and to keep from moaning right there in the dressing room. Not fair. He’s a damn actor and I’m only so strong. “Hey, you.” He said, lips still sealed to yours, one hand resting on your cheek and the other settling against your neck. “Missed you.”

It wasn’t until you opened your eyes and pulled back that you noticed he was still wearing the horns and flowers, and a short laugh burst through your attempts at catching your breath. I love him so much it’s stupid. You had lost count of how many times you’d had that thought. But as you reached up to pluck the wreath from his head, you had another. No one I’d rather be stupid for. “Hey yourself. Missed you, too.” Raising on your toes, you kissed his cheek, not caring that you were getting his sweaty makeup on your lips. “You were great, Dieter.”

“Yeah?” He used the thumb of the hand on your face to swipe the smudge from your lips as you nodded. “Thanks. It was a fun show tonight.” He sighed and smiled. “Glad you’re home.”

You hummed. “Me too. I’ve had something to tell you, well show you, really, for three days now and-”

“Show me, huh?” He arched an eyebrow and stepped back to look at you more clearly. “Show me wh- oh, shit.” Yeah. His eyes had dropped to the inside of your arm, and you turned it so he had a better view. “You…” He licked his lips and turned his own arm to line it up next to yours. “You got the other… the piece I cut out on mine.” He brought his eyes back up to yours then, big and soft and spilling over with affection. “I fucking love it. I fucking love it and I fucking love you.” He swallowed and leaned in to catch your lips with his again. There was a slight tinge of salt but you weren’t sure if the tears were his or yours and it didn’t matter.

“I fucking love you, too, Dieter.” So damn much.

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