Chapter Text
Gheorghe Ionescu knew one thing for certain: his country was beautiful. He loved the natural beauty of it, and the changes the seasons brought with them. Spring always had a special place in his heart, with the warmth in the air making the blossoms and the smiles on people's faces shine in that special way that made him happy to be alive. Summer brought heat and deep blue skies. And Autumn…
Well, Autumn of that year brought Marcu Bratu, a brand new student joining Gheorghe and his classmates in their last school year. A terrifying thought for most, a walk in the park for the new student, who, unfazed by it all, fitted in better than Gheorghe himself.
Gheorghe the quiet.
Gheorghe the reserved.
Gheorghe who was too polite to even catcall the girls in school or make rude jokes about boobs half of his time.
Not that Gheorghe minded, not really. He had his farm, his animals and the best place to live in the world. Deep down he knew already, at age almost seventeen, that if he could live just a quiet life like that, he would die a happy man.
Just…
Sometimes, the light would come in the classroom just right and, from where he was, hit Marcu's face right, making him look just so beautiful.
Sometimes, when he saw Marcu interact with the other students in class, patting one on the shoulder or hugging a friend, Ghoerghe' cheeks would heat up at the thought that he wanted to know how that felt too.
But he was Gheorghe the quiet, so he continued on.
In Autumn not a word was spoken between the two of them. Not a word was spoken inside Gheorghe's heart about how a strange flame seemed to simmer right underneath his skin when, in the darkness of his room, he would close his eyes, wrap a hand around his member and come with a name on his lips that he didn't dare whisper to the shadows of the night.
Then Winter came, and with that the annual Epiphany festival, something he always enjoyed taking part in.
As a spectator.
As a spectator, there was a lot of fun to have, playing in the snow to get to the nearby lake, watch as the local priest benedicted all sorts of stuff, till finally he would take a wooden cross and throw it in the lake. At that point, all the young men of a certain age in the area would throw themselves in the freezing lake and rush to get the cross. The one fast enough to take it and bring it back to shore would win blessings and good health for himself and his loved ones.
Now he wasn't a spectator anymore, it was his turn to throw himself in the lake and get the cross, on a frozen Epiphany day where the snow was ankle deep in some parts of the country.
Yet, as he stood there alone, the first of a big crowd to arrive, he couldn't find it in himself to be too angry with the land. After all, the spectacle in front of him was so beautiful, with the light of the new day making the snow sparkle and the water shine. Everything around him looked otherworldly.
'I thought I would find you here already.'
Gheorghe didn't need to turn around to know who was standing behind him on the shores of the frozen lake. But he didn't have the strength to turn around and welcome in the land, his land, the stranger he had wanted to talk to for so long.
Marcu came to stand next to him and, for a moment, neither man spoke, letting the noise of the wind in the trees fill the void with their song.
And, perhaps, that helped him relax, letting the tension in his body relent a little. After all, no matter what, no matter what Marcu could think of him, or say, his land would always be there, with its beauty and treasures.
'One hell of a cold day, isn't it?' the boy asked.
'It is,' Gheorghe managed to reply, pushing the words out because saying something was the right and polite thing to do. But even saying those two words had been hard enough, with his heat making a strange dance inside his chest like it had never done before.
The sound of the wind came back rushing in as the two boys were silent once more.
What was he meant to do? What was he meant to say? Surely something fun, something that could break the ice, something that could make him stand out from the crowd of other students, but what?
'Fancy a race before this all starts?' Marcu then asked.
'A race?'
'Well, I heard you are the best swimmer in our class. Or at least, were, because I am a lot faster than you,' Marcu said, grinning at him as he started to take his clothes off in the freezing air. 'Or are you scared?'
In an insane moment, Gheorghe the quiet decided to throw that quietness out of the window and smiled back at Marcu.
'I will show you who is the fastest,' he replied then, quickly taking his clothes off and chasing Marcu into the lake.
It was so,so cold.
And yet Gheorghe's heart was full of warmth as he splashed water in Marcu's direction.
England, same time
Johnny Saxby could not sit still. The next day he was going back to school for the last part of his last year in the system and he was already dreading it, a vicious, cold grip tightening around his chest.
He closed his hands so tightly it hurt as he thought how unjust it all was. He used to like school, it was a pleasant enough distraction from life on the farm. But now it was all a sea of discussions about what uni people were applying too, and what parties to throw before everybody was gone, chasing a bright and golden future, while all he was going to chase was a sheep or a cow if he was lucky.
'Fuck you all,' he whispered to himself, as he was alone in the livingroom, his nan and dad already gone to sleep. Maybe he could give a ring to Robyn or something.
No, what would have been the point? After all she was one of the people soon to head off into the sunset, and once before, when she had picked on him being more a "mardy ass" than usual, all she suggested was to go and get laid with Charlotte from English Lit, because she had always had a thing for Johnny anyway and a shag could help.
Very helpful advice, considering that he wasn't attracted to that girl in the slightest. He wasn't attracted to girls full stop, and for as much as he had never discussed with with Robyn, he sure as fuck must have suspected it by then.
Even more irritated, Johnny started pushing the buttons of the remote with so much anger it was a miracle it didn't break.
He flipped through lots and lots of channels, not having the right frame of mind to stop on anyone in particular. Then, as he circled back to the BBC, he stopped. On the screen now they were showing a beautiful lake in the countryside surrounded by a land covered in snow. On the shores, there were so many people standing around a funny looking priest type.
Not that his eyes were particularly bothered by him, not when the camera panned to the half naked young men freezing on the shores.Then, when the priest threw a wooden cross in the water, they all threw themselves in it, chasing it, splashing around and screeching because it was so cold.
The BBC commentator was explaining the significance of it, but Johnny couldn't care less.
All he cared about was looking at how happy and beautiful those young men were and how, in that moment, alone in his farm's living room, he would have given everything to be part of it.