aus-der-traum:

Skorzeny
sees the contempt in Kaltenbrunner’s face as Schellenberg reaches
tentative fingers the trace the curve of his scar as clear and bright
as a signal flare, though Walter is either blind or dazzled by the
stories he is murmuring about the song of two blades meeting and the
hot, piercing flash of your skin splitting open, a wash of blood to
grin through and the whispered adulation of brotherly hands on
bandages.

Even
when Ernst unsheathes his dagger and turns the edge against Walter’s
cheek and offers to give him a mark to be proud of himself – and
Otto knows that what Ernst no doubt dreams of doing is pulling their
little comrade onto his tiptoes by the hair and forcing the blade past his teeth, to cut away his easy way with words and knack for
politesse – Walter simply smiles until Otto puts his hand on
Ernst’s sleeve and shakes his head: you know that
isn’t how it works.

But then there
are no rules about the weapons of their teeth and Walter bears up
very bravely once they have stripped him down and set about him until the taste of blood lies thick in both their mouths.