Security
The atmosphere in the hallway was far more tense than it should have been as the man stared warily at the double doors in front of him. This job was meant to be relatively easy. There were no immediate threats as far as he had been briefed. Still, the very nature of what he would be guarding was something that invited wild flights of imagination and conjecture. Before today, Kurt would have never thought himself as one prone to anxiety or alarmism. Though, he never would have imagined he would be working in such a position either.
It had all been very secretive and aggressively serious. There had been a deep scope background check, intense questioning, a polygraph, even a requirement to write an essay detailing how he felt about his own country. Kurt was almost convinced the government knew more about himself than his own mother did by this point. All of this, simply because he had been chosen as a candidate to guard 'the very soul of the nation itself', or so it had been described to him. He still was unsure of how to interpret such a statement.
One of the doors shifted and it almost acted like a shock to his system. Kurt's spine straightened and his grip on his wrist behind his back grew tighter as the door was pulled open. The first thing he noticed were grey eyes, almost icy as they fixated on him. No, they were not merely grey. A flicker of blue was present there around the pupils like a drop of water fallen against the stone. A sign of spring in the alps as ice melted off the pines and dripped onto rocks below, eventually flowing down deep into the earth to revive the streams and lakes in the valleys below.
The image was so vivid that Kurt had to blink and shake his head a little to clear it. The action finally seemed to clear his head enough to get a proper look at the man who was currently leaning out into the hall and peering at him. A stern looking austere fellow with brown hair slicked back, a few strands loose here and there, round black glasses perched on the end of a prominent nose, a dark blue three piece suit that was well tailored, black gloved hands, and an expression that was exceptionally difficult to discern. The man sighed softly through his nose after a moment before stepping out into the hall and giving Kurt a once-over.
"Kurt Ortner I would presume?" The man asked and he adjusted his glasses once he received a nod in response. "They informed me I would have an escort going forward. I suppose they believe I would benefit from the extra security. That or they believe I am not entirely trustworthy." The idea obviously annoys him. Kurt can see a subtle twitch in the man's brow at the words.
"Well, if it helps I'll try and give you as much space as the job allows." The response came so readily it almost took Kurt himself by surprise and he cleared his throat. "They just said I had to make sure nothing happens to you." Whatever that meant. A lot of the details had been vague. It came with being the first to the position. The man raised a brow, before seeming to lose a little tension he was holding onto. His shoulders dropped a centimeter or two.
"Well, I would, appreciate that." He seemed to contemplate something then, bringing a knuckle to his chin. "I do not suppose they even bothered telling you the name I go by?" He asked abruptly, giving a sharp glance down the hall where he knew a few of his parliament members were most certainly waiting.
There was a strange sensation again. Imagery of an eagle glaring across the vast woods in annoyance at a lack of success in hunting for the day flickered across Kurt's mind. This time, he was more aware of it as a memory. The first eagle he could ever remember seeing. His father had explained what it was, and how even such great predators could face a day of failure. "No sir-" He managed to answer the question even as he tried to grapple his thoughts back to the matter at hand.
There was just such a strong sense of nostalgia even standing around the man. It did not even feel right to call him a man though. The being before him felt like a well of memories and familiarity that defied all rational explanation.
"Roderich Leopold Franz Schmelzer, currently. Although I suppose it is the name I have kept the longest outside of my formal title." He barely seemed to notice Kurt's struggle to comprehend what he was standing in front of at first. The corner of his mouth crooked upward briefly however, betraying his amusement. "Try not to get too lost in the past, yes? You are meant to be watching me." The words worked to anchor Kurt sharply back to the moment and the edges of his ears turned red as he watched Roderich turn and stroll down the hallway.
Apparently he was fully aware of the effect he had.
Kurt muttered to himself before following after. He was going to have to get a handle on that fast if he wanted to do this job right.
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It had been a few months since Kurt had started this position, and he was getting very familiar with Roderich's schedule. The man liked to sleep in until around 9:30, and when he woke he took his time. Nothing short of an emergency stopped him from having his coffee, enjoying his breakfast, and practicing an instrument for perhaps an hour or two. The choice of instrument never seemed to be consistent, but it did seem to have something to do with his mood. The most relaxed days often started with a violin or cello, the average with the piano or maybe even a trumpet, and the foul days seemed to start with the harpsichord.
Today, it was the harpsichord. Kurt leaned against the doorframe as he listened to the fast paced notes, seeming like they should trip over each other for their speed and yet keeping in line to form the almost chaotic melody. He was certain he knew what had put the nation in a poor mood. Protests in the streets tended to do that. Roderich had muttered something about ill memories the evening before. With even a basic knowledge of history, Kurt could readily guess what he had been referring to. He turned his head and dared to sneak a glance into the music room.
He should not, as he knew full well. Watching Roderich perform brought those flashes of memory and emotion like nothing else. The temptation was a fierce one however, and it only seemed to grow worse the longer he spent around him. Roderich had not exactly been helpful in Kurt's attempts to avoid it either. He swore he could feel that gaze on his back at random periods of the day, and it was not a cold or uncomfortable feeling either. It rushed from the back of his neck down his spine to his toes in a blaze of heat that felt like a wildfire had flicked down his nerves.
Whenever he snapped his head to look however, Roderich would be seemingly busy speaking to someone else. He knew he was not imagining things however. The man would occasionally permit a little side glance back at him. Once he had even seemed to chuckle. A subtle quickening of the rise and fall of his ribcage had given it away.
That was another thing. Kurt was intensely aware of almost every little motion that Roderich made. He had even startled the man by asking if he needed an aspirin. Roderich tended to give short huffs through his nose when he had a headache, subtly different from the ones he gave when annoyed with a situation. It did him no good to wonder why he was so in tune with such things either. Everything led to him having an "issue" with the other. That was not the right word for it, but he was afraid to call it anything else.
Stuffing it down, he instead let his eyes drift over the harpsichord keys to the bony fingers that skated across them. They moved swiftly and without hesitation while their owner leaned forward, eyes closed. For once, as Kurt looked at Roderich's face, he was not pulled anywhere else. He was right there in the moment, enraptured by the intensity of the music and the elegance of its creator.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ This was getting out of hand. Ever since Roderich had caught him watching him perform a month ago, he had been acting differently. The gazes from before were no longer pulled away when Kurt noticed. Instead, Roderich had seemed keen to hold eye contact whenever he could without the notice of others. The look in his eyes was clear as well. Each prolonged stare came with an intense pull, an obvious meaning. "I want you over here." Kurt had obliged. Instead of wavering outside of rooms or across halls like before, he stood a little behind and to the side of the man on most occasions.
Whenever he approached, Roderich would give an approving hum that sent a shiver down Kurt's spine. Then there was the matter of Roderich broaching his personal space quite purposefully. At times it would be to straighten Kurt's tie, or to dust a bit of lint off his shoulder. Every time was deliberate, and he could tell by the way Roderich let his fingers linger. That unnamed issue from before was becoming a well defined problem and he could tell he was going to be unable to ignore it much longer.
This morning had been the worst instance so far. Roderich had actually nudged a strand of hair off Kurt's forehead and tucked it gently behind an ear. "Mustn't look too unpresentable hm?" He had muttered, and the fondness in the tone had nearly given Kurt a heart attack. How was he meant to be some detached guard by this point? He felt as though he would let Roderich get away with nearly anything if it meant this would go on. A groan escaped him as he rubbed his temples, face red.
"What have you gotten yourself into now?" He muttered.
"Hopefully not any trouble." A voice chimed in right by his left ear and Kurt nearly jumped out of his skin before whipping his head around to see Roderich, who looked quite amused with himself. "Last thing I need is them attempting to swap you for someone else."
Kurt attempted to calm himself, clearing his throat. "No, no, nothing like that sir."
"Then what might you be murmuring to yourself about in my parlour?" Roderich quickly followed, looking very much like a cat that had cornered a tired bird. Kurt had to shake his head to prevent any errant memories from surfacing before struggling to come up with an answer that would prevent further questioning. He had already lost the battle though, he could tell by the glint in Roderich's eye.
Of course the aristocrat was aware of his little problem. He was trying to egg it on with every heated stare and every brush against him. Something Kurt had learned quickly was that Roderich did nothing without well thought out intent which meant-
Which meant that he was being pursued. He simply had not wanted to admit it to himself.
Such feelings would very much compromise any impartiality of reports he was meant to be making on Roderich's mood or plans. The silence stretched on before Roderich stepped closer, leaning down a tad and side eyeing Kurt with unmitigated curiosity. There was, something else there though that gave Kurt pause. A hint of uncertainty, perhaps nervousness even? Yes, Roderich was, unsure. His thumb was fidgeting against the rest of his hand restlessly. Perhaps he thought he had pressed too far.
Kurt grumbled something inaudible, causing Roderich to furrow his brow before he found his hand abruptly held. Gently, Kurt rubbed a small circle on the back of Roderich's hand, and his thumb stilled. "I think you probably already guessed what it was." He finally said, stubbornly keeping his gaze down.
There was a moment of silence, before Roderich visibly relaxed before actually chuckling. It was the first time Kurt had heard a laugh louder than a breathy exhale from the other. "Well, no one has ever accused me of not being astute." Kurt finally glanced up and met his gaze. Good Lord he could get swallowed by it. There was so much there. Relief, amusement, care, and an unmistakable determination. There were no protests when Roderich pulled him in and crashed their lips together.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ One could never mistake Roderich's fondness for certain members of his security detail over the decades. Often when they departed his service, he made quite sure they were well provided for and his parliamentary leaders could do little about it. In spite of their best efforts, the nation seemed to seduce at least half of the people they sent his way and the ones that were immune he often tried to escape from or aggressively bickered with until it became a risk to their health. Something about being drawn to protect him in the first place seemed to attract those more susceptible to his advances. The flings were intense, passionate, and left almost no bitterness when they parted ways as to be in contact meant to understand the temporary nature of oneself in comparison. For a brief moment, they knew each other, and that was worth much.