#alwrit

"How bizarre. Well, he was a strange man. A flighty, tricky type, all too eager to sing and dance until"

This took a while and it could be better but Idk it's a bit raw. Thanks for the prompt tho, @pulmonary-poultry This was like. Not fun but.... there was a level of catharsis/enjoyment in writing this and exploring a less confident Hermann.

Tw for vague themes of sexual assault. Nothing explicit but it's the context. On move so I can't read more. On desktop you can skip posts with the J key.

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“Can you still sleep at night?”

Hermann looked up from his drink to glare at Sergey. Stupid question. Sergey met his gaze unflinchingly, a characteristic that was alien to the Russian man all of six years ago. Hermann shivered and looked back at the shitty soft drink in his hand. Sergey refused to let Hermann drink during the time spent with him these days, not that there was much of it.

Sergey was right to do it. Hermann had been drinking more and more lately and his friend was concerned, to say the least. Hermann curled his lip and leaned back against Sergey's patched-up, beaten pleather couch. "Twenty four hours isn't enough to take care of business these days. My classes, my electives, my finals prep-"

"That's not what I ask."

"As if you have any right to ask," Hermann snarled. Almost immediately he regretted it. He felt Sergey tremble for no more than two seconds, as if he were closing his shutters. Armor. Any other day Hermann would have apologized, but he didn't think he owed anyone any sympathy these days. "It's not like you helped me at all."

Sergey withered. He knew what had happened wasn't his fault, but he still felt like shit when the venom in Hermann's voice sank into him. He spoke quietly thi time. "I was not allowed into the club with you. How is it fair that you blame me? Unfair to blame yourself, but the cruelty of projecting your pain onto myself…."

"And you'd have just as easily broken a rib," Hermann growled. The tone was vindictive, but there was no malice to it. He knew his friend was right. Hermann parted his lips to say something, but his voice caught in his throat and whatever he had to say came out in a quiet, strangled sob. He dropped his head and rested his forehead in one hand. Sergey looked at him, one hand raised tentatively, before reaching out to place it on Hermann's shoulder. 

He just as quickly withdrew his hand as every muscle in the man's body locked down, turning him rigid and uncomfortable to touch, like taxidermy. A sob like a hiccup. Hermann's fingers twisted tightly over his mouth. Mismatched eyes wide and glassy. Hermann shakily placed his drink on the coffee table ahead of him and worked his now free hand into his hair.

"My mother said it was only a matter of time."

"That is cruel."

"That if I kept this lifestyle up, it was bound to happen."

"Hurtful. Unhelpful."

"That even Goliath fell, Sergey."

"You are not Goliath."

"If that's not what I am, who am I? What good am I?" Hermann said shakily around clenched teeth. "I've never been good enough. Ivo met every mark, but I'm too… much. I advertise myself every night. I should have seen it coming. I didn't even check my drink. Stupid."

"You are tearing your hair out," Sergey said, his voice calm and level. He wanted to sob for his friend, but that wasn't what Hermann needed.

"Her hands were all over it. Disgusting." Hermann's fingers curled tighter into his hair, and Sergey could see the follicles straining handstands breaking. He didn't doubt that Hermann could single handedly scalp himself.

"Would it help to cut it?" Sergey asked, his voice gentle as he leaned over to pry Hermann's hands from his mouth and hair. "Do not hurt yourself. I cannot heal you, and I cannot undo this. But we can fix your hair. We can buy you new clothes. We can clean ourselves. It will not fix you. But?"

Hermann felt no strength in his limbs as Sergey touched him, and his hands limply rested in his friend's. He fought back a cry and lost the battle. He swallowed it again and responded to Sergey's prompt.