Made in Heaven

MADE IN HEAVEN by Stefan

Chapter 9: Going to waste

Maxim piled up Christian's books in his guestroom for he was clearing up the shelves framing the fireside. They wanted to paint the wall white with terracotta-coloured patterns as Maxim once had suggested. It was Friday afternoon, but Christian was still in his office.

Maxim guided his fingers over the book spines, bound in leather with golden imprints. A biography of Dylan Thomas; poems by Wordsworth and a treatise about his life together with his sister and his friend Samuel Coleridge; Shakespeare-editions of all ages. Books about architecture, he even found a thick and heavy book about Palladio and his villas in Venetia.

From a book a handwritten sheet of paper fell out and sailed slowly down. An ivory coloured deckle-edged paper will Christian's neat handwriting. Maxim picked it up and read:

"Life's not the highest goods Schiller said and he was right. I'm hardly born and damned to die.

Does it feel four years? Or rather like four days? Four hours, you say, Life rushed by in seconds.

But among my red lifeblood You dare to push the black knife of your cynicism?"

What was that? It sounded pretty melancholic. Maxim shook his head and put it back where he had found it. While opening the glass doors

of the glass case Maxim's mind swirled around the little poem. Four years? Four days? Hadn't Christian been together with Philipp for four years?

Cautiously he took the crystal carp from "Lalique" and turned it in his hands. He smiled at the recollection of their days in Paris... until he remembered their first night together. Maxim couldn't forget Christian's outcry with Philipp's name on his lips. But how much he had changed since then. For all the hours of hurt Christian had made up.

The phone rang.

"How are things?" he heard Christian's words. "have you started already? I need still an half an hour and then I'm with you."

"Take your time, I'm alright. See you soon." He hung up. The small black box in the glass case drew his attention. After opening it and seeing it was two platinum rings, Maxim stopped short. Wasn't the ring Christian used to wear, a golden one? He wondered where he had left it and what was this about. Perhaps those rings belonged once to Christian's parents? He closed the lid and put them back next to the crystal figures.

Coco sat at the window, looking out. They had once more set up again the large video screen to air the football match of the Football World Championship. Though Maxim wasn't that keen on football, the enthusiasm of the folk down there, who came to watch each match over the past four weeks, was infectious. The audience was very colourful and seem to come

from every country he could imagine. He wondered if he shouldn't go down Sunday when Germany would play the final match against Brasilia.

Coco watched the workers with interest, although they looked very small from high above. Maxim ruffled his neck. Then he took a woollen ball and let it fall down upon the carpet. Coco jumped for it. They played and scuffled with each other until he heard Christian entering the flat. He watched them amused for a while and grinned. Maxim sucked at a scratch on his palm and stood up.

"He's a real cuddle cat", Christian said dryly.

"Sure, like me." Maxim kissed him. "Have you finished for the week? I have cleared up the shelves and boards already."

Together they covered the fire place with plastic awning and Christian brought the bucket with white colour. "Are you sure you want to do it alone and not give it to a professional?" he asked.

"I AM a professional! Do you think we left everything to workers back in Russia? Either you did it yourself or waited for ages until somebody came. Usually they didn't come at all."

It didn't take long until the wall was freshly painted and Maxim mixed the other paint of terracotta colour. While the wall was drying Maxim sat down on the awning that also covered the carpet and wiped his spotted hands.

"By the way, we're invited to my parent's home".

"Ah! The big inspection of their son-in-law, eh?"

"Well, yes." Then he turned his head. "Son-in-law?" he grinned.

"Yes, what else?" Christian sat beside him, took his shoulder and pressed him to the ground. He bent over Maxim and kissed his nose. "What will they think of me?"

"Well, my father was taken with you." Maxim stroked Christian's back.

"Was he?"

"What about your father? When will I be invited?"

Christian froze. "I don't go along well with my father," he said seriously.

"Oh, that's sad. Why? Because you're gay?"

Christian let himself fall on his back. "Presumably. He doesn't speak about it. He thinks if he doesn't mention it, it's not true. Perhaps he still thinks it's just a phase that will pass."

"So, I'm never going to met him?"

"I don't want you to be hurt." Christian closed his eyes. How long hadn't he spoken with his brother about mother? But Martin's reaction lately had told that neither could do it still. They had never discussed the evening twenty years ago. And again there was the yelling in his ears. The picture of his mother laying motionless on the

ground, Martin bent over at the top of the stairs, looking down disbelieving;

his father behind his back whose facial expression he couldn't interpret until this day. Was it malicious glee? Relief? Dismay? Horror? In the end it didn't matter to Christian. His mother had gone for good; the twins couldn't find consolation so both passed the blame at each other, and the father wasn't any help.

"They had argued a lot", Christian said low.

"About what?" Maxim asked in the same low tone. Christian shrugged

his shoulders. He knew very well about what they had argued. Mothers' endless jealousy. Ungrounded, as his father used to stress. But Martin had found him more than one time with another women in full action at home or in town in discreet cafes. The father demanded silence, and overtaxed the twins with their loyalty. To whom should they stick? To the deceived mother, or to the father, fed up with being the accused. Though Martin had sworn it had been always the same woman.

Christian on the other side, knew to whom he was loyal. It was his mother. He could understand her fits of violence even if it scared him. In moments

like these he realized that he had inherited his mother's rage at certain

situations. But no word would come over his lips to Maxim.

He turned to face him. "About everything they loved each other, and they hated each other. Both never seemed to have been that loved, but neither had never been that unhappy at the same time. Do you understand?"

Maxim shook his head. "If you love someone you don't make him unhappy."

"Darling, that's sometimes the same", Christian said softly. "You can be happily in love and be unhappy at the same time. And the pain will be sweet."

Maxim looked at him with big eyes. To him this touched the border of masochism, but perhaps he was right. At least one could revel in lovesickness, but not forever and not for the sake of being lovesick.

Christian outstretched his hand and stroked Maxim's cheek. "I'm a burnt child. To me love was always connected with pain." He regretted his

words instantly. He had said too much. Maxim would think him a psycho who couldn't distinguish love from hate. But he saw the corners of his lips curl. Perhaps he had understand him right.

"Ok", Maxim said. "I can live with that. Not seeing your father, I mean. But you haven't answered my question. Does he despises you for being gay? If he does I don't want to see him."

"Maxim, honestly, I have no clue. We had our coming out, but he never commented it, and that was after mother had died; maybe she would had been more understanding."

"He was just... silent?"

Christian nodded. What did it matter. What his father thought didn't bother him in the least. They said nothing for a while, lost in own thoughts.

"Philipp agreed to take over my flat", Maxim said then. "In fact, I think he's about to move in right now."

Christian's eyebrows jerked up. "Does he?"

Maxim had the feeling he better had not told him. A cool wind was touching his skin and he got goose bumps, and it was not coming from the air condition. "He will get friendly with Joost and Rainer", he added quickly, looking into Christian's eyes. At the same time he remembered that Christian never told him the reason both broke up. In fact: He neither knew why the story with Gregor had finished nor with Philipp. He blinked and sighed then. Well, if it was Chris' wish to keep his secrets, so be it. Although Maxim - a curious being - found it very hard to endure. But then

it made him so mysterious and secretive.

"I thought you would give it up completely", Christian said after a while. "We both belong together. You could save the money you spend

for the flat."

"Yes, but now Philipp pays the rent, so where's the problem. And I live here in vain since you don't want to take a cent from me." He neared his face to Christian's. "Which I find pretty shitty, by the way", he grinned.

"I feel like your mistress."

Christian laughed out loud and started to tickle him. "So, Mistress Maxim, I think this wall is dry enough to do whatever your plans are for."

Maxim untangled from Christian's limbs but made a mental note to ask

Philipp about his life with his now ex-lover and if he had more information about the death of his mother. Christian had told him his mother had been found at the shore of a lake where she had drowned herself. How desperate

a human had to be to drown himself, he thought. When everything the body wanted was to breathe... what a willpower it would take to breathe water instead of air...

Maxim shook his head and stood up, pulling Christian with him. Carefully he tested the wall paint and found it dry enough to apply the terracotta paint with a sponge. Christian watched him silently; certainly he knew the right technique, although he had said he had never done it himself. It didn't matter that here and there both colours mingled; it only added to the interesting structure.

"You see," Maxim said later, "Now you need a stencil with leaves for

instance or with Italian landscape and soon it will look as if at a Tuscany villa."

Christian looked at him pensively. "That's right! You have ideas? I could use it for the restaurant."

"I thought that's work for an interior architect?"

"It is, but ideas and suggestions are always welcome."

"Why don't you show me the plans?"

"Later." Christian looked at the watch. "Why don't we make ourselves a nice TV evening?" He paused. "No, wait, I have a better idea. These books can wait to be put in order again." From the fridge he brought a bottle of wine.

Maxim enjoyed his idea very much. They had gone up to the roof terrace where Maxim had decorated the plants. He had sat them up against the fences and came up each day with new ideas. "You think we could plant herbs? In window boxes or flower bowls?"

"Why not plant potatoes or cauliflower?" Christian joked but Maxim was excited. "Yes! And zucchini and carrots and pumpkins and cucumbers."

"Look, the sun is going down", Christian said after their fits of laughter had subsided. In the distance the fire-red ball sat the glass cupola of the Reichstag into flames. On the other side the TV tower started its round bands of lights and at its top blinked warnings to the air planes. Berlin looked like a setting of "Metropolis" if it would had been shot in colour. It seemed artificial and unreal. Maxim watched the Prussian blue sky which built a deep contrast to the orange-flaming horizon. Slowly it was getting green. Muddy shades of colours. Maxim heard the first buzzing of midges.

Christian lit a candle which guaranteed a midge-free zone in the vicinity of five meters and poured the glasses with wine. Maxim pulled out a package of cigarettes and lit one first for Christian. The place and the situation was as unreal as Berlin's sky at sundown. His skin breathed in with relief for the burning of the sun rays had stopped. Here, high above over the roofs of the Potsdamer Platz blew a soft breeze and slowly all the lights started. Maxim killed a midge.

They smoked in silence. "Don't you think this is better than the beach of Mallorca?" Christian asked. He didn't know where this thought had come up. He had to stop drinking alcohol. Mallorca had been his mother's favourite place. The family had a house there which was hardly paid when his father sold it again after mother's dead.

Maxim nodded, sipping at his wine. "Much better. I've never been there though. Leon went there alone. He was half Spanish you know and was happy to hear his mother tongue again."

"And why didn't he take you with him? I'm sure you would had enjoyed the island."

"Haven't you told me a few seconds ago that Berlin is better than Mallorca?"

Christian grinned. "I wouldn't say that in general, honey. It's just this night with the special colours, the special air and the silence when a sizzling town comes to a rest finally."

"Berlin never sleeps", Maxim said.

"Oh well, to an outsider Berlin might be something like an eighth world wonder, but believe me, if you're grown up here, it's just a village."

Maxim couldn't believe this. "To me it IS the eighth world wonder."

"Now, why haven't you gone with Leon?" Christian asked, killing off a midge.

"I was studying and I didn't want to leave my parents. I had enough to do with getting used to this town. I couldn't cope with another in that rapid succession."

Christian stretched out his hand and took Maxim's in his. They let it swing between their garden chairs and it comforted Maxim. "Are you still mad that Philipp has taken over my old flat?" he asked.

"Mad? Was I mad? I said nothing."

"Well, I sensed you didn't agree."

"Oh no! You must have gotten it wrong. It's your flat and you can do what you think it's best." Christian thought that his indignation was fairly convincing. Of course he didn't agree that Philipp had taken over the flat. That would mean they would remain in contact. Christian didn't want Maxim to be in contact with Christian's past. In no way.

Maxim sighed and leaned back his head to watch the deepening sky. It was now a dark, dirty blue, washed-out like an old pair of jeans. He detected some stars already blinking and felt Christian's fingers stroking the inside of his palm. He emptied his glass of wine and held it out for more. "You like the old poems?" he asked a little tired. "The English poets, right? Why them?"

"Well, there's Goethe within", Christian grinned. "I don't know. First I was interested in Oscar Wilde. That's when I detected that I was different. When 'we' detected it", he corrected himself. "I had such a crush on Dorian Gray!" he laughed. "I loved the name! I loved the blond hair and I loved Helmut Berger in the film." He grinned at Maxim. "I sensed something ....

indecent in the book and when I was older I knew what it was. Have you seen "Wilde" with Stephen Fry?"

"Oh yes. I loved Bosie." Maxim leaned forward. "You look very much like him, by the way." He took Christian's glass away and started to kiss him, until Christian pulled him into his lap. "This becomes my favourite position", Maxim murmured while ruffling Christian's hair.

"Well," Christian licked his lips, "I was interested then about Wilde's

life and his interests, and found Walt Whitman and all the other poets of his time and before that. I'm still stuck with them."

"And Shakespeare", Maxim said. "Personally I find him very difficult to

read. I wished someone would 'translate' Romeo and Juliet into contemporary speech. You know, it would make the biggest love story of all."

"Like Romeo and Julian?" Christian chortled. "Listen, honey. This is a Shakespearean poem." He closed his eyes to slits and cleared his throat. Then he started with a serious voice:

"Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved."

Christian paused and Maxim was impressed about the modulation of his voice and the articulation of the words. "Have you had actor's training?" he asked, more joking than to be serious. To him the fraught with significance of this emotions was too heavy. He appreciated the words but he would find it peculiar to recite them out in front of another human. Probably he wasn't romantic enough for that.

"Actor's training? Hell, no! But did you like it?"

"Of course I did. At least that's easy to understand", he grinned. "Are we going to Made in Heaven tomorrow? Please. Say yes." His voice caressed. "I could present my new earned skill in playing piano." He kissed Christian's lips. "Thanks to you and the piano." He kissed Christian's nose. "Dario will burst with envy. Growing green completely! He was so keen on you." Maxim laughed cheerfully. "Like I was. No, I was more keen on you than he was."

"Why do you use past tense, heh?"

"Because now I'm even keener."

Dario didn't like to admit that many of the regulars had asked for Maxim. He was tired of put them off to the next weekend and the weekend after that, but Maxim came only irregularly if he came at all. Apparently he no longer needed the money anymore or this Christian chap had occupied him so much he had forgotten his love for the piano.

Dario was a sharp watcher and hardly forgot a name or a face. And he knew that Maxim was good at the piano, so good that even Dario started to like his playing. Thus he was pleased to see Maxim even if he was in Christian's company. He had missed both more than he had realised.

Dario nodded to Bruno, manager and partner of the bar; an average looking guy with white framed glasses and hair he had gelled to a duck's tail - all the rage but ridiculous considering his age. Bruno worked the stereo. He stopped

it and took the microphone. The dancing pairs grumbled. "Enough of that corny, sentimental crap", Bruno shouted. "Maxim's back!"

With a pompous movement of his arm that would have been more appropriate announcing a Broadway star, he pointed to Maxim, standing surprised and blinded next to Christian who protectively put his arm around him. The crowd cheered and Maxim was astonished how many familiar faces smiled at him encouragingly.

Dario beckoned him. "First drink is on the house. Are you coming regularly again?" His eyes darted between him and Christian. "Come on, you've had enough honeymoon."

Maxim was reserved though. "There was a time you didn't seem to know my name. What's different now?" he asked.

"Perhaps I'm tired of hearing the question when will you return to play the piano. Business is bad. Ask Bruno."

"Do you really mean it's my fault?" Maxim said coolly.

Dario leaned over. "You should recognise a compliment when you hear one", he said in a low voice. "I won't say it again."

There was something like a smile in Dario's lion eyes. Maxim wondered briefly which colour they were by daylight.

Christian wasn't amused by all this. What if Maxim really want to pick up his weekend's activity again? He couldn't have him for himself and to leave him here alone in this sea of horny sharks was out of the question. His plan to fetter Maxim at home by giving him a piano to live out his love for music had failed so far. A voice was in his head, telling him to let

loose of Maxim to be sure of his love but he ignored it as always. A tiny part of his being told him that his brother was right, but this part wasn't strong enough to be heard. Perhaps, if he hadn't stopped the sittings with his psychoanalyst the voice would had been stronger. Strong enough to be followed.

Bruno complimented Maxim finally on his playing. A hot wave of jealous

urge of possession washed over Christian when he watched Maxim taking his place at the white piano in the corner with every eye following him. And every eye was full of ... full of what? Adoration. Yes. Christian saw Maxim's little bow he made to the spectators; he saw the flicker of pride in his almond eyes and Christian knew Maxim was flirting with every

single man in the room, Dario included, as Philipp and Tim took their places in front of the bar.

As if he was pulled by a string Christian's body was lifted from his seat. Philipp and Tim? His eyes turned back to Maxim whose fingers hovered a centimetre over the black and white keys, as if unsure what to play. Then he started the intro of As Time Goes By, looking directly into Christian's eyes. His fingers rushed playfully over the keys, blending into a spirited version of Elton John's Blue Eyes but slow enough for people to dance close together. The pairs started to turn around and time moved again, as if Maxim had never left his place.

Even Dario smiled. His yellow eyes fixed on Tim and tried to sort him out. "Sex on the beach, right?"

Tim nodded surprised. "It's two then", Philipp said.

"Two of what?" Christian had appeared at his side. "I thought this bar was taboo for you now."

Philipp didn't know what to think. "Well, you're here too. Reliving old memories?" he said sneering. "I'm free as you are." He lowered his voice. "NOW I'm free."

"You haven't missed out on a single thing while you lived with me."

Christian bent over to look at Tim. "It's him now?" he asked Philipp. "He's cute but can he offer you what I offered you?"

Philipp turned completely to him, the imprint of his red T-shirt gleaming in the light." Why do I have the feeling you're jealous? Are you really still jealous of a relationship that doesn't exist anymore? Will I never be free from you?" He flashed an angry look at Christian.

Dario pushed over the drinks. "What's with you?" he asked Christian. "Sex on the beach?"

"It's great. I had it the last time I was here with Maxim", Tim butted in suddenly. He lifted his glass and toasted Christian.

Christian foamed with anger, but he kept himself under control. "And when was that? He hasn't been here for some time."

Tim licked his lips with relish. "Oh, that was before you. He had a little trouble." He blinked. "Lovesick, you know."

Philipp prodded Tim's in the ribs to make him stop. He knew Christian's facial expression all too well.

Tim swallowed his drink and coughed a little. "Well, that was when you treated him like nobody." Now he blinked innocently at Christian and tried his best smile. "This drink was so strong we fell drunk to the gills into his bed that night."

Philipp stared at Tim with wide eyes. Like Christian did. Tim could see how their minds were reeling, sorting all possibilities.

"That's a lie", Christian spat out finally and Tim shrugged. Christian mustn't think he wouldn't have chances with other guys. Christian might

look as good as he did but there was a time when Tim had spent a night with Maxim. And it was just his very own fault that nothing had happened.

The dark-pink drink slid to Christian's elbow and he drank it down in a single gulp still glaring at Tim, sizing up the chance that he was telling

lies. If he wasn't, what had happened then between Tim and Maxim?

"Does it bother you?" Philipp said finally. "It was before you... captured Maxim. How is he taking it, by the way?" He looked over to the piano, saw Maxim's oblivious, happy face and thought that Maxim's state of being in love was still so strong he hadn't noticed the cage.

"Have you read out to him all your favourite poems already? Have you asked him to marry you?"

Philipp saw that Christian was about to empty the contents of his drink over his head in anger. He pressed Philipp's upper arm and hissed, "I thought we had something special you shouldn't joke about. Have you forgotten all the things that had a meaning?" His diamond eyes flashed sparks. Philipp held the stare without fear. "I know what we had. Despite all", he said very low with only Christian to hear. "It wasn't me who destroyed the feelings. I couldn't live with you like that. I'm not a boy anymore." He took a deep breath. "I'm sure Maxim too isn't a little boy you can rule and observe as you like. You better start giving up your merciless jealousy."

Christian shook his head. "Don't dare to influence Maxim. He's mine

now."

"And nobody will take him from you; what are you afraid of?" Philipp called out, earning a look from Tim. "And, by the way, if we had that something special you've consoled yourself very quickly. Congratulations."

"You had your chance to come back to me. I begged you, don't you remember?"

Perhaps, if Chris had given him more time, if they had had a separation for some time..., Philipp thought. Perhaps there would had been a chance

for them. No. Better not. It was good as it was. A clean cut.

Christian relaxed. He turned to watch Maxim and the pairs of dancers.

"What's up with both of them?" Tim heard Dario asking. "I don't want any quarrelling. Are you playing pair-hopping or what? Or a foursome?"

Tim's face was a question mark. "Give me another one of those, please." He pushed over his empty glass and Dario started his shaking-ritual. Surely Tim had been surprised when Philipp had invited him. Perhaps he was just a filler for Philipp. But was Tim behaving better? Maxim was lost

for him and Phil was single again. So why not? He received his drink, paid and pulled Philipp to an empty table. Both watched Christian walking over to the piano and Maxim finished his playing. Under the applause Bruno started the music again.

"You play fantastic, honey", Christian murmured when he took Maxim into his arms and started to move to the music with him. "I didn't realise you had been missed so much. Do you want to spend all your weekends here again? I mean, where I am then?"

"Being with me of course, where else?" Maxim looked up into his face. "You spent all your weekends with Philipp here, so why not with me?"

"I don't want to share you", Christian said simply and Maxim laughed. He pressed his body very close to Christian's. "That's very sweet of you", he whispered and Christian's despair grew. How could he make it clear to him that all the guys gathered here would increase the chance for Maxim falling in love with one of them? Surely, Maxim was right in one thing; he had spent each weekend with Philipp here. But he had been sure of Phil. There wasn't the slightest sign that he would be interested in other men, but as the relationship settled and Philipp became more mature, Philipp wanted more to explore the world outside Christian's home. He had slipped through his fingers like water until Martin had caught him. So it had to be, hadn't it. And who knew how many men beside Martin...

Christian's hands explored Maxim's body. He would have loved to take him right here and now, to show all of them that he was his own. Maxim moaned a little into his ear, then he heard his giggling. "You'd better stop", he whispered and made a little space between their bodies. "What do you think about Philipp and Tim? Aren't you surprised?"

"Well, actually, yes."

"That's all?"

"Hey, what do you want to hear?" Christian squeezed Maxim's butt. "I know I should be more affected that he's found himself a new lover that fast, but I'm not." He hesitated and searched for something that would be

a reasonable excuse. "I'm doing the same, aren't I." He felt Maxim nodding over his shoulder. "Yeah, you do the same, that's right." He looked up again. "Although I'm not sure what to think about it. I can't imagine being a couple

for so many years and then go on, don't look back and find another partner

to love." His black eyes looked expectantly into Christian's. "Understand

me right, honey. I'm not doing reproaches, I just wonder. And", he added with a little laugh, "how could I complain, I'm so happy you decided to act

this way." Maxim certainly felt that there was something missing he should

say actually, but he did not. He suppressed the feeling that something was wrong here. That he actually should question Christian's deep feelings towards Philipp. Or, even worse, his ability to feel deeply. He didn't allow

himself to ponder the consequences.

Christian though suppressed his anger. He was tired of Maxim's unspoken questions about his former relationship, although he had every right to ask. How long would he be able to hold on like this? "Tell me rather", he said, "what you're thinking about Tim and Phil. '2QT2BSTR8'!" he laughed a little

disdainful, referring to Philipp's T-shirt. "His taste in clothes is bad as ever." He considered briefly asking about Tim and their mutual night but dismissed it. This wasn't the time. "This little angel of the bookshop is a real cutie." His eyes were searching.

"Yeah, he is", Maxim sighed. "You know, his book is running well, have I told you? Come, let's go and join them."

He dragged behind an unwilling Christian and sat next to Tim who was about finishing his second cocktail. "Stop it or you'll get drunk again", Maxim chided him playfully. "Remember what happened last time."

Tim grinned, but Philipp rolled his eyes. Maxim had better be stopped or he would experience his first big quarrel with Chris. He looked nervously at him, but Christian appeared not to listen.

"I remember well," Tim hiccupped into Maxim's ear. "I guess I should have another one."

Maxim held him down to his seat. "Your book is still running well?" he asked.

"Oh yes, Phil has removed the novel from my web site and given just a glimpse of it. Together with the url of the virtual bookshop that is."

"And some photos from the reading at Eisenherz", Philipp added.

"What brings me to the point, Maxim. Tim told me that Luan will have his holidays back in Vietnam and you are short of employers. How about me?"

"Huh?"

"I mean I could take over Luan's job until his return. I've worked in a bookshop before to finance my study." He sent a long glance to Christian.

'Before you stopped me you bugger', he thought. "I did enjoy it and you know how mad I am about books."

Maxim smiled at Philipp's enthusiasm to promote himself. "I'm not the right person to talk to," he said. "But I'll talk to Wolfie, that's the manager there, ok? I'm sure he will be pleased. Sure enough you'll need some training before that, but that shouldn't be a problem." He looked at Tim. "That was your idea,

right?" 'To be closer to him', he thought. Well, so be it. He was glad that Tim had stopped giving him those hungry looks. He should spare them for Phil.

"How's Martin actually?" Christian said suddenly.

"Martin?" Philipp asked startled. "Don't know. Haven't seen him for a while."

"Phil's with my brother Martin if you don't know", Christian said to Tim,

raising an eyebrow suggestively .

Maxim stared at him. Why did he have to say that. Surely he hadn't told Tim about their meeting at Blu lately because he wanted to give Philipp a chance to sort out his problem. He saw Tim's eyes darken over, but he held his composure. "Well, where's the problem", he said after a while, not looking at Philipp. "We are just friends, what did you think?"

"Good! Then everything's fine." Christian fixed Philipp a look. "It's good to know to whom one belongs." He took Maxim's hand and squeezed it.

Tim certainly had the feeling of being excluded. Of course he hadn't known that Philipp had another pan cooking. But above all Christian's twin! That was impossible. It was like fucking with the same person. Perhaps that was exactly what he wanted because he still clung to his old lover. Although he

had told him different things. He looked at Philipp from aside who sat there

numbly, with nothing to tell.

Maxim caught a sign from Bruno and jumped up in the direction of the piano. "Another round for mushy people!" he called out. Philipp pulled himself

together, went around the table and dragged Christian up. He pushed him to the bar and said dangerously low "Stop that game, Chris. I know why you

had to embarrass Tim. You hate him. You think there's something going on between him and Maxim. It is NOT! And what was before you, is none of your

business." He ruffled his red hair and wiped some drops of sweat from his forehead. "I know that Tim is fragile and easy to hurt, and despite I've made no

approaches he thinks that there could something between me and him. I like him

very much but not much enough, you understand? Now go to Maxim and

leave us alone." He breathed heavily through his nose and left a surprised Christian standing at the bar.

Dario swung his towel over his shoulder with whom he had dried the glasses and leaned over. "Another Sex on the beach?"

"Kiss my ass", Christian said rudely.

"Would gladly do", Dario grinned and his eyes glistened. "If you're ever fed up with all those annoying guys...."

Christian turned his back on him.

"So you fell drunk to the gills into bed with him, hm?" Christian murmured into Maxim's ear from behind. His dick slowly slid in and out of Maxim's body. He rose up on his knees, pulling Maxim with him until he sat upon his upper thighs, embracing his waist with one arm, playing with his nipples with his other hand.

"With whom?" Maxim panted.

"That little angel of yours." Christian bit into Maxim's ear lobe.

"Who ... who told you?"

"He. While you were playing. Perhaps you shouldn't go out playing but play instead at home."

"That's a nice word play if you mean what I mean", Maxim said, lifting himself a little up and down. Christian embraced his cock and played with it. "Like that?" he said.

"Like that. Are you cross? That was before you."

Christian's fingertips circled around the tip, smearing the oozing fluid. "I'm jealous of all men who had you before. Too bad I wasn't your first one", he whispered. "Aren't you?"

"What, jealous? No." Maxim moaned because Christian increased the friction and roamed now all over the shaft of his penis.

"Not jealous? Well, I dreamt about guys I had for myself for the first time. And they would love me for always and for ever."

"Because you deflowered them?" Maxim chortled. "That's funny."

"Why funny?"

"Because that's not a base for a relationship, stupid. You fuck them and go and look for another virgin. Oh geez..." Maxim couldn't hold back and soiled himself with white, warm juice. He felt bent over on his knees and Christian's movement became painfully strong and quick until he found release himself. They lay on top of each other between the bed sheets and let their sweat dry.

"I love you, Maxim. For always and for ever."

Maxim said nothing. Who knew how long was for always and for ever... "Tim told you he has spent a night with me?" What made Tim tell this? Probably he was tipsy.

"Yeah, he told me so. And what happened there? Everything I can imagine?" Christian's voice was soft like a drowsy and satisfied lion.

"Not what you could imagine. We slept. I mean we slept. And had breakfast after that."

"You always have breakfast after that. Usually."

"Geez, Chris", Maxim started to move and Christian's cock slid out. "What do you want to hear. We both were a little love sick. I because of you and he... don't know."

"Because of you", Christian finished the sentence for him.

"No. Not because of me."

Christian removed the condom, got up and carried it into the bathroom. Then he stood in the door frame, watching Maxim lying on his stomach. He could eat that little ass of his,

"Then why did you have to tell him that Phil is having a go with your brother?" Maxim had turned now and looked over his shoulder at his lover.

"I want him to protect from making the same mistake as I did. Phil's

not reliable. He fucks with everybody. And now he has sneaked into the bookshop. Watch out for yourself."

This made Maxim laugh. "You mean, he could now be after me? Oh Chris! You have a funny imagination." He jumped up from the bed and walked over. "Time for a shower together."

"Why don't you come up with me?" Tim asked. Philipp stood undecided. He didn't know what Tim expected. He tugged at the seam of his shirt.

"Come, it's just a drink or coffee."

"And then you'll show me your stamp-collection, eh?" Philipp took Tim's hand and declared defeat. Anyway he had often been here to borrow books and work at Tim's homepage and he felt quite at home. Tim had never made approaches again and so he didn't either.

"Water, coffee, juice, wine?" Tim called, opening the little fridge standing in the living room.

"Just water please. You feel like having sex on a beach having drunk those pink brew? What's in there actually?"

Tim brought two glasses and a bottle while Philipp again occupied his favourite place: the bookshelves. "Did you really spend a night with Maxim?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Yeah. Nothing happened."

"But you wished."

"Is it that obvious?"

Philipp nodded. He took the glass and sat beside Tim who had taken off his shoes and put his legs on the seat of an armchair. It was dark in the room, just the street lamps outside gave a soft-yellow light.

"You don't think I'm after you?" Tim said tired.

"To be honest, I never did. Despite our trying to fall in love with each other. Am I right?"

Tim twisted the glass between his palms. "You're right. I'm sorry. I don't regret anything though."

"Of course not. The night with you was ... great."

Tim smiled weakly. "I return the compliment. And while we're at confessions, what's with Martin? Did you really? Or do you still?"

"... sleep with him? Not for the moment. I'm sorry Chris was so nasty to you today. He wanted to hurt you. You know", Philipp said slowly, "Chris always expected me to sleep around. I wasn't. It was all his imagination. Until I finally made it true with Martin, but he was the only one ever. You should always do what you're expected to do", he joked. "I'm still about to figure out Chris' past. I'll meet again with Gregor, Chris' ex-lover."

"Why does it bother you", Tim asked. "You aren't finished with Christian yet, are you."

"No, I'm not. I can't shake myself like a dog coming out of the water."

Tim looked at him. "You sound as if Christian would be dangerous to live with. Do you fear something?"

"Yes. You must promise not to tell Maxim, ok?"

"Ok."

"Christian is obsessively jealous. I mean, not just the normal jealousy we all feel. It's serious. But I never understood the whole implications until I met Gregor. He told me that it started the same with him. Chris even tried to kill himself when he thought that Gregor might cheat on him. Or when he wanted to leave him. After a while I got confirmation from Martin that Chris had a fight with Gregor and ended up in court. And after that with psychiatric treatment. It seemed to work for a long time for I haven't noticed Chris' disease. Until it broke out again. I don't know how to say it in other words, perhaps it's something like a virus, huh?" He smiled briefly and drank his water. "All I fear is that he will do the same to Maxim." He looked at Tim. "Perhaps I'd like to see Maxim in better hands." He winked. "Perhaps I'd like a little revenge."

"Revenge? That's no good, Phil", Tim said startled.

"Why not. You could work our story into a new novel of yours." His eyes glistened. "Title: Made in Hell - or so." He slid to Tim's side and spoke close to his face. "Let's make allies, Timmy. You, me and Gregor." His lips were very close. "Let's win Maxim for you. There really was nothing between you and him?"

Tim shook his head. "Just almost."

"Ah, almost. That's a start."

"His cat likes me."

"His cat? White fur, eh? I've found hairs." His head was even closer. "Say yes. Make an alliance." He kissed Tim's lips. And Tim didn't resist. "You're a tart", he said indistinctly. "Better you go now. It's not good for me if you stay."

Philipp saw the spark in Tim's brown eyes. A spark of agreement. He stroked his cheek. "Don't forget to ask for the job, please."