Now I'm back with the next installment. Hope you all had a good beginning of the new year and spent a delightful Christmas time. My deepest thanks goes to Michael and Alex for their help in proofreading. As always comments, criticisms, advises etc. are highly welcome.
The Knife That Twists Within Part 13
by Stefan
Nicholas was lost in memories of the weekend as he walked slowly towards the entrance of the Academy. Saturday he and Marcus had spent in a forest on the outskirts of the town, enjoying the surprising warmth of the sun and yesterday Nick hadn't wanted to move from the bed, so Marcus had joined him and both had spent a very delightful day full of passion and tenderness.
In the evening they got a call from Sebastian saying goodbye. Nicholas hadn't any clue when and if he would ever see him again and he wasn't quite sure if he was relieved about it or not.
Someone patted him on his shoulder.
"Hi, Nick."
Nicholas looked into Ben's smiling face.
"Ah, so you're talking to me again?"
Ben looked guilty. "I'm sorry mate. You know, I had problems to work out."
"Do you want to tell me about them?"
"Frank." Ben squeezed his bag which he held firmly under his arm. "I had to sort things out on Friday, I couldn't tell you before."
Nicholas peered into his eyes. "And now you've sorted them out? And what has it got to do with Frank? You've been to see him again at his flat, I assume?"
Ben nodded. "Yes. And I see what you meant when you said I should 'stop dreaming because dreams can come true'. I 'd say a nightmare came true."
Nicholas looked perplexed. "What do you mean? Did he ... did he ... has he hurt you?"
"Well, he tried." Ben seemed to smile. Nicholas gave him a friendly shove with his shoulder. "So talk, man!"
"Marcus was right too in asking Frank if he was still keen on rough sex. I know now. He tried the same with me, although I'm not quite sure about it all." He gave Nicholas an odd sideways glance. "I mean, I wanted it too, you know what I mean, right? But then he seemed to get out of control ... or something. And I was out of control too." He shook his head. "I don't know exactly what happened to me. Suddenly I tried to force things, his fingers were hurting me, his teeth, all of him was fiery and I wanted to take control of the situation but then he fled and I was ..."
Nicholas stopped and put a hand around Ben's shoulder. "I know roughly what you mean. You wanted to pay him back, right? And he was a sissy all of a sudden." He laughed unhappily. "And then?"
"I ran out of his flat! But then I returned. I wanted to make things clear, but he began to shout at me, trying to make me small and gave me a punch on the ear and then we fought." He paused briefly. "I had lessons in karate, you know."
"Ah! karate. And now he's sitting there with a broken rib?"
Ben shrugged. "No idea. I don't think so. I guess it's more his wounded pride. You know, I'm so confused. After all I liked him, perhaps more than 'liked' I assume. And now everything is shattered." He looked straight into Nicholas' eyes. "He did the same to you, didn't he?"
"Yes." Nicholas' voice was low. "But I didn't have your strength. I couldn't run away."
Ben's eyes widened. "You mean he ... raped you?"
Nicholas didn't answer.
"What a shame I didn't break all of his ribs then!" Ben spat out.
"No, it's ok. You mustn't give tit for tat. I'm done with Frank. He can't hurt me anymore, you understand."
"But it's stupid to hold out the other cheek. He must be punished!"
"Oh well," Nicholas sighed. "Would it change anything? It happened and can't be undone. My healing was Marcus. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me."
Ben smiled at him. "Of course. But where's MY healing?"
Frank looked the same when they found him standing amongst a group of students and gladly answering all their questions. Except for the long, livid scratch on his cheek he looked as relaxed as ever, only as he noticed Ben and Nicholas entering the classroom a little spark appeared in his eyes. After all Ben was a witness to his weakness. The weakness that he was afraid of being fucked and losing his control by lying helplessly under another heavy, male body and obeying its wishes and desires. He couldn't stand that thought.
And he wasn't willing to give up Ben so easily; Ben would have to obey HIS wishes someday, to redeem the humiliation. The little fuck on Saturday with the hustler wasn't any comparison; he after all had got paid for it, overpaid since he'd stolen his wallet.
But it was definitely good for his ego to have a body next to him he could use like a puppet. He grinned his complacent grin again.
The Lover That You Miss -----------------------
Rome airport, Fiumicino, greeted them with its usual turmoil. Kay got bored from waiting too long for their luggage to appear on the carousel and sneaked around the large blue and yellow painted halls. He had been in Italy before with his parents but they had gone by car usually and then always to the Adriatic to lie around in the hot sand under an even hotter sun which they called the Italian 'Teutonic grill'. He could remember a day trip to Venice but his mother had persistently complained about the stench coming from the depth of the many canals, about the thousands of tourists (as if they weren't tourists as well), the horrid prices, the lack of seats and of course the pigeon shit.
Kay and Simon found it funny, feeding the pigeons which landed on their outstretched arms and even on their heads, had made a gondola trip with their father while their mother was sitting sulking under a big sunshade and sipping her cinzano.
But they had never made the so-called educational trips with their sons which Kay now regretted to a certain extent. His lover seemed so well educated in every field and he felt he had to catch up a lot, but he was sure that Sebastian wouldn't mind if he asked stupid questions from time to time. He saw him waving in the distance which meant that the luggage had probably arrived.
Though it was cool outside, the air was brisky and the sky blank as a fresh washed mirror. Sebastian had got hold of a taxi which wasn't easy and Kay peered curiously out of the window during the ride. He didn't find it especially interesting but he enjoyed the first views of pines and black cypresses, the harbinger of the south.
Sebastian, sitting beside him in the backseat of the taxi, lightly squeezed his hand and seemed to be happy to be back again.
"Is it far?" Kay asked quietly.
"About 20 minutes. The airport is a good way from the city."
Finally the taxi drove up a hill which Sebastian called Gianicolo, past its peak and stopped a bit later at a pretty looking house, painted in soft ochre and with a dark red roof. Kay stepped out, stretched and looked around.
"Ecco! This is my house. We are home again." Sebastian beamed. Kay looked at the high walls the house was surrounded with which prevented curious looks.
"The river is over there," Sebastian pointed in a direction but Kay couldn't see anything but high cypresses, deciduous trees, and the red roofs of other houses, peering through the sempre verde.
"Our neighbour is the Palazzo Corsini, now a wonderful museum."
"Aha." Kay nodded. He couldn't remember ever having visited a museum except for the usual school outings.
"Now come in." Sebastian switched off the alarm system and unlocked the door.
Kay noticed that Sebastian's house resembled Marcus' house closely inside and he knew instantly that he would feel comfortable here.
"Upstairs," Sebastian waved with his head to the staircase and took his luggage, Kay followed him. Both heaved their suitcases onto the spacious bed and breathed a bit. Sebastian opened the windows to let the fresh air into the room while Kay looked at the bed and asked himself quickly how many men would have occupied it already, but shook off the unpleasant thought.
"Do you have a housekeeper too?"
Sebastian nodded. "Yes, but she only comes two days a week. I can cook and do the laundry myself, you know." He grinned at Kay and pulled him into his arms.
"Do you like it?"
"But yes. At least the bed looks very good", he added with a mischievous smile. "What's this?" he asked and pointed to fresco paintings covering the walls, made with delicate, pale colours showing antique scenes which were somehow familiar to Kay. He looked at young men, dressed only in short tunics showing their bulging buttocks and calves, some of them in embraces, like an erotic dance in front of a building reminiscent of the Colosseum, overgrown with weeds and the old Imperial forum; some of them celebrating a mysterious feast, lying beside sumptuous covered tables, feeding each other with grapes and drinking from the same goblet.
"You painted this?" he asked and stepped closer.
"No, sweetie, you know I can't paint." Sebastian joined him and carefully touched the painted wall.
"It was Marcus years ago."
"Marcus?" Kay asked surprised. "He was here?"
"Of course he was, Kay."
"And shared your bed?"
Sebastian nodded. "For the last time. Sort of a farewell gift."
"What? The sex or the paintings?"
"Both." Sebastian turned and asked smiling, "Now, do you want to test the bed or are you hungry? We have to go out for dinner today, I'm afraid the fridge is empty."
"No, first show me the house and then I would like to have a walk around, ok?"
"Of course."
The setting sun which illuminated the sky over the city with a soft, lilac glow soothed Kay's mood. He lay more than sat in a comfort armchair on the terrace, wrapped in a warm blanket and listened to Sebastian's words which explained the history of this house, its former owner and the houses in the neighbourhood. He didn't want to know this all in detail but Sebastian's voice was gentle to his ears and he relaxed so much that he almost fell asleep. The voice fell silent and he felt himself lifted from his chair and carried upstairs to the bed where he became more lively again and struggled to peel off his clothes and to join Sebastian in the precious tiled bathroom. There were the colours of Rome again: the yellow ochre of the Travertino and the dark green of the pines gathered together in the tiles, the towels, the carpet. Kay was too tired, so he simply let himself enjoy the attention Sebastian paid to his body in washing and rinsing him, then slipping him under the fresh covers and in no time was fast asleep.
Marcus rummaged in one of the old wardrobes in his working shop. His fingers found parchments, paper, clothes and cardboards, a larger iron frame for painted window frames, wafer-thin slices of alabaster, various saws, planes, spatulas and boxes with glue, binder, metal sticks, G-clamps and angles next to unfinished portraits, little mosaic stones, tiny figures made of gypsum and powdered colours. A small parcel wrapped in a dusty cloth fell on the floor. Marcus bent down, picked it up and unrolled it curiously. After a few seconds he found himself looking into the garnet eyes of a spider-shaped brooch. He almost let it fall. He took the fragile piece of art and sat with it on a unsteady chair. He didn't know exactly why he had the brooch tucked away in the darkest corner of the wardrobe, perhaps he didn't want to see it anymore; after all it was a precious piece and he could nevertheless sell it for a good price, but it wasn't the money he was interested in. To get money from the spider was like a second betrayal on Alex. It was long time ago since he had thought about Alex. He hadn't called over the last few weeks and Marcus had almost forgotten him, but now the sight of the little spider brought back all those unpleasant feelings again. He wondered what he was doing now, hadn't he said the last time that he hadn't been able to find a new employment? A stab of guilt filled his guts. Perhaps it would be considerate to give him a call and ask how he was. Nicholas was right, at least he could have given him a job in his work shop, but then, he knew that Alex had two left hands. He was a wonderful buyer and partner for negotiations but it was doubtful whether he was able to hit a nail into the wall. Marcus sighed, wrapped the cloth around the brooch and tucked it away again in the wardrobe. He would gave Katja the order to clean the wardrobes and shelves a bit. Then he walked to the paintings Nicholas had chosen for the exhibition and tested whether the covers were firm enough around them to exclude the dust. >From the other side of the room he heard the phone ring and Johannes answer it. Slowly he went over and saw Johannes hectic waving to come closer. Johannes held his palm over the receiver and whispered, "It's Karl from London, sounds important." Marcus smiled absently and took the receiver. "Marcus? I guess it's better for you to sit down before I tell you the news." Marcus rolled his eyes, "Come on, Karl, don't be so mysterious. I can take it." "As you like. Carlisle want to sell his screen to the Leyland Museum in London!" "What?" Now Marcus searched for a chair to sit down. "Can you repeat that? But why all of a sudden? Why not to me?" "Don't know, Marcus. But I guess it would be important for you to come over and negotiate with Carlisle directly. Maybe you can persuade him to back out." Marcus didn't respond. The screen, yes. That precious piece of Edward Burne-Jones; the only screen he had ever designed and painted the glass windows for. The old hunting fever awoke again. But then his mood sank, he couldn't leave Nicholas alone and he doubted that he would come with him. But then, it would be only for a few days, perhaps only one. "When will Carlisle arrive in London?" "My informer says in four days, means Saturday. So you have a bit of time to think it over. But whatever you decide I believe it's the last chance for you. The museum will hardly give away this piece once it gets its hands on it." "Yeah, I know. Ok, Karl, thank you for the information, good job my friend. I'll call you again. How's the weather in London?" "Cold and rainy, what do you expect?" Karl seemed to grin. "Hear from you." Marcus met Johannes' questioning eyes and said "Carlisle has offered the screen to the Leyland Museum in London." "Indeed?" Johannes beamed and in no time his face was full of laugh lines. "And? Will you go and try to catch it?" Marcus laughed. "I think so." He nodded as if he had to convince himself. "Yes, I will go." He bent over with his elbows supported on the table. "Would you do me a favour and keep an eye on Nicholas while I'm away? You know Sebastian has already left." "Of course I will. Presumably he will show up here. But what about his parents?" "They're not on speaking terms at the moment because we live together." Johannes looked distressed. "But first I must think about it a bit more, you know about all the things which have happened to Nicholas over the few last weeks. He won't like being left alone, I'm afraid." Johannes nodded. "He's not a child, Marcus. He'll manage, I'm sure." Marcus smiled at him and looked at his watch. "Heavens, I must go!" He snatched up his jacket and rushed out.Over the next two days Marcus avoided bringing up the subject of the screen and his proposed flight to London. He still wasn't sure whether he should fly or not. Sure, nothing strange had happened since the last incident, no calls, nothing at all and both of them seemed sure that they could breathe more quietly now.
It was on the Thursday evening as Marcus lay naked once more in his little attic room under the roof of his house, watching Nicholas in the near darkness and sketching his body.
Only a small cone of light fell upon the paper in his hand as he tried to figure out the soft contours of Marcus' bare back and buttocks. His face was left in near darkness. From time to time he sipped his glass of wine and felt the warmth of the spotlight stroking his skin.
"Nicholas? Can I ask you something?"
"Hmhm."
"Would you mind if I left you for a couple of days?"
Nicholas lifted his head sharply. "Why?"
Marcus took another gulp and was about to sit up.
"Don't move! The light is perfect just at the moment."
Sighing Marcus took the same position again. "Now answer my question."
"Why do you want to leave me alone?"
"It's the screen."
"The screen?" For a moment Nicholas looked confused. "Ah, THAT screen! I thought the subject was closed."
"No. Carlisle wants to offer it to a museum in London and I'll try to get it before. You know, I've been searching for that screen so long."
Nicholas stopped drawing and looked intensely into Marcus' face.
"How long will you be gone?"
"Don't know. Maybe only a day or two."
Nicholas face lit up. "But that's no problem. As long it isn't a few weeks it's fine by me."
"Good! I hoped you'd say that."
Nicholas put away his pen and paper, rose and knelt beside Marcus lying on the comfortable sofa. He burrowed his hands into Marcus' hair and then let his fingertips wander down over the skin of his back until they arrived at the crack of his buttocks. Marcus flinched a bit but still smiled.
"When?" Nicholas murmured.
"Saturday morning."
"Oh, that soon?"
"I'm sorry honey. But I think I can leave you alone, can't I? See, there's Johannes you can speak to whenever you want, and Matthias and Ben of course. And you have my telephone number if anything should happen. But why should it? It's all fine now."
Nicholas wasn't paying much attention to Marcus' words because he was thinking about something different. He still stroked Marcus back and the bulging butt, his fingers creeping lower until they reached Marcus testicles and stroking them lightly. Marcus began to growl like a lion cub and opened his legs wider.
"Do you remember what I asked you for some time?" Nicholas whispered.
"You've asked me many things, sweetheart."
Nicholas grabbed the half empty glass of wine and poured it slowly over Marcus' arse cheeks. Marcus jumped a bit. "What are you doing?" he panted half laughing, "you'll make a mess on the sofa."
"Who cares about the sofa?" Nicholas replied. He wetted a finger with the liquid and smeared it around Marcus' hole before he cautiously pressed a fingertip on it and tried to penetrate. Marcus gasped a bit and said in a tight voice "I can remember now... you don't have to ask again, honey."
The finger sank in and began a careful search inside. "Is that a yes?"
Marcus jumped as Nicholas' finger found his prostate and stroked it. "It doesn't hurt, does it?"
"Stop talking, honey." Marcus lifted his body and Nicholas' finger slipped out. He sat up and began to fumble with Nicholas' buttons and zipper, pulling his pullover over his head and he too was naked in no time. "Come," Marcus took his lover's hand and went with him downstairs to their bedroom.
Nicholas knew he had caused Marcus pain but he also knew that the pain would soon be replaced by a feeling he had never had for a long time as he had told him once. The last time was with Sebastian and he asked himself briefly if Sebastian's skill was higher, his dance wilder and the satisfaction bigger, but Marcus throat let out moans which grew louder and louder until he had to close his mouth with kisses as he bent over, carefully thinking that his cock wasn't slipping out, kissing his mouth, his neck, the collarbone until Marcus was quiet again.
He had never known what it meant to move his penis so freely in a tight, hot, soft and elastic tunnel until the surrounding, the noises, the light, the bed vanished into a blur of desire. There was the feeling again that they could be one body, one thought, one heartbeat pulsing in the same rhythm as their bodies. Nicholas lost the feeling for time as he felt the muscles in his lover's anus began to pulse, clamping tighter around his cock. Nicholas opened his eyes and saw Marcus' reddening face, his mouth half open in a state of rapture, and the last thing he registered was a shared outcry of lust.
The next thing he knew was that he awoke in Marcus arms, his face buried in the bend of his neck, Marcus still sleeping. His semen had glued them both together and it hurt a bit as he tried to shift his body. Nicholas grinned into Marcus' awakening face and whispered "I love you."
Marcus smiled and kissed his forehead.
"I know, honey. I know."
Nicholas was a bit disappointed about the neglect of his unspoken question, but forgot it instantly as he felt himself turned onto his back and Marcus was showering him with kisses.
"It was great, sweetheart," he murmured.
"Better than with Sebastian?"
"With Sebastian?" Marcus frowned a bit. "Can't even remember that." He played with Nicholas' silver medal.
"You are my star." He grinned. "What about finishing your drawing?"
"Now?"
"But yes. Maybe we can repeat this dance?"
Nicholas laughed. "Oh, hopefully I'm not going to be top always! I loved it, but even more I love to feel this ..." he grabbed Marcus' flaccid penis, "in my arse."
"Next time we'll throw dice!"
Nicholas laughed "I bet you would do it!" Marcus jumped out of the bed and Nicholas followed. In the bathroom he caught him and pushed him under the shower.
Matthias wasn't especially enthusiastic about the idea of going to a gay club to search for a guy he never had seen, nor about the strange music they played there. But he'd promised Nicholas to help him to find this Simon guy. How could he refuse when it seemed to matter so much to both Nick and his lover? He'd also learned that Kay and Simon were brothers. Another good reason to help, despite the strange, throbbing music pounding his head since they'd entered the club. He'd left Tina at home. While she was comfortable around the gay men in general, she wasn't sure she'd like the club. She'd heard about wild behavior that sometimes went on and figured it was more information than she needed. Again Nicholas had chosen the 'Nightfactory' because Kay had said the chances of meeting Simon there was best. And he had persuaded Ben to join them and since Matthias and Ben got along well Nicholas felt fine although Marcus had left him that morning for London. Stepping up to the bar, Nicholas extended the photo of Simon that Kay had given him. "What's this with Simon?" Alfred, the barkeeper said, "so popular all of a sudden!" "Oh, I guess Kay asked you about him before, right?" He eyed the tall, muscular, black man in his tight fitting, white T-shirt. "Yes, I think his name was Kay. Bleached hair with a dark parting and a golden earring, yes?" "Yes. Now, what about Simon?" "Hasn't been in yet. A bit early for him." Ben stood beside and watched Alfred's hands, towelling a beer glass carefully. "Something to drink?" All three nodded and ordered beers. "This Kay," Ben asked Nicholas, "he's gay too, yes?" "Yes. He's with Sebastian, Marcus' best friend. Have you ever been to Cerruti's in the Lafayette?" Nicholas asked. "Cerruti's? Are you mad, man? I'm glad if I can afford an occasional Lacoste-shirt!" Nicholas was embarrassed. In less than a few months his life had become so completely different he'd almost forgotten what it was like to worry about money, food or clothing. "Why did you ask me about Cerruti?" he heard Ben's voice. "Because Kay works there." Ben took a long gulp from his beer and licked his lips. "But he's in Rome right now, isn't he?" Nicholas nodded and let his eyes wander around the dance floor. "A nice guy?" Nicholas turned his head to Ben. "Why do you want to know? Of course he's a nice guy. After every pair of pants in town. Mine included." Ben laughed. "Is he? My, I don't know Sebastian but I feel sorry for him." "Nonsense. That was BEFORE he met Sebastian - I guess. I hope." Matthias looked around somewhat bored. He couldn't understand how another man's pants should be interesting. But then, he wasn't gay. Nick had said it was no different than Matthias wondering what was beneath a girl's skirt. Maybe. He was interested in women's pants and Nicholas in men's. But to a certain extent he found the view slightly repulsive, all the men dancing together, fumbling each others bodies, licking their faces; he could never do that. Right? He'd never want to do it, right? His gaze fell upon Ben, saw the flickering coloured lights mirrored in his glasses and reflect in the long, silky ponytail. Perhaps the touch of another man wouldn't be that repulsive. But as soon the thought crossed his mind, he banned the idea. This was out of the question. Nicholas turned again to watch Alfred pouring different liquids into all sorts of glasses, filling them with ice cubes and shaking the mixer. "What was it that Tina always used to drink? Bloody Mary?" "Huh?" Matthias didn't hear the question. "Bloody Mary? Tina drinks it, right? Can I have a Bloody Mary?" Nicholas shouted to the barkeeper. Matthias gave him a push, "Stop it, man. You've had a beer already, don't mix them together or you'll get sick." "Oh, shit. Um, one beer please." Alfred grinned and showed his stark white teeth. "Something planned for tonight, eh?" He pushed the tap and the amber liquid filled the glass. Then he made a move with his head in the direction entrance. "Look, there's Simon." All three heads turned to the entrance and noticed a young, slim man with brown curls, his body forced into white jeans and a short leather jacket. "And what now?" Matthias asked. "He looks healthy. Are you sure he has the disease?" "He's infected yes. It doesn't mean it's broken out already." Nicholas' thoughts raced. Should he speak to him? Could he tell him that now he was Marcus' lover, that both of them had tried to find him? Should he tell him he was a friend of his brother? He followed Simon across the club with his eyes, watching him move, lithe as a panther through the winding bodies on the dance floor before he disappeared in the direction of the toilets. Acting on an impulse, Nicholas grabbed Ben's arm and pulled him onto the dance floor, to the edge near the toilets. Matthias watched with discomfort, afraid that a hot looking man might speak and want to dance with him. Nicholas pressed his body against Ben's moving with him to the slow music. Both watched the entrance to the toilets until they saw Simon coming out. Like a flash Nicholas had an idea. "Hey," he shouted and Simon turned in his direction. He stepped closer. "Do you sell something special?" Simon looked him up and down. "Never saw you here before." "So what? This is my first time. My lover and me," he looked at Ben, "have heard one might get something from you." Simon stepped even closer. "100 for cocaine, 200 for cocaine and a fuck." Nicholas sensed Ben's fingers squeezing the flesh of his waist until it hurt. "Want to come with us?" Ben asked, his eyes cruising Simon. Nicholas watched, amazed and pleased. Simon's eyebrows rose. "Both of you? That's double." Ben nodded and beckoned Simon to follow. Crossed the dance floor they found Matthias at the bar fending off the advances of a middle-aged man. Both exchanged glances and grinned. "Ah, there are three of yours!" Simon exclaimed. "A good foursome, yes? Makes no difference to me. Let's go." Matthias pushed the older man's hands away for the last time, the colour still high in his face. Nicholas gave him an entreating look as they moved to the exit, but perplexed as he felt, Matthias knew he would hold his tongue. The friends had traveled in Matthias' little, old car and now they were squeezed together, Ben and Simon in the back seat, Matthias and Nicholas up front. Ben watched Simon furtively. He looked good indeed, and Ben felt a stab of regret for the young man. Ben hadn't asked how Simon had been infected, if it had been transmitted sexually or not. It could just as well have happened through a shared needle... he delt drugs, perhaps he used them as well. A transfusion was possible, though unlikely these days. It might even have been some kind of accident. Meeting Nicholas' eyes in the tiny mirror over the driver's seat he saw that Nick was dismayed as well. Still, how could he sell his arse when he knew he was infected? And why did he do it after all? Didn't he have enough money? Why didn't he ask his brother or Marcus... Matthias felt Simon's gaze on him and their eyes met from time to time in the little mirror also. "You guys do have enough money for this, right?" Simon had watched the young men intensely and though he found them harmless, he was always on his guard. Looking out of the window he tried to figure out where they were going. As the surroundings became more and more deserted his inhibitions grew, until suddenly he recognized where he was. As the car slowed near the iron gate, Simon threw open the door, intent on jumping out. Matthias slammed on the brakes and Ben took hold of him by the arm. "Stop it, Simon," Nicholas shouted, jumping from the car. Simon twisted in Ben's grip. "You know where you are, right? Don't worry, Marcus isn't at home." Nicholas said standing before the young man. Simon looked more than confused. "Could you tell me what's going on?" he yelled. "Come, be quiet, we don't want to get the police here." Matthias' grip was firm around Simon's upper arm. "We only want to talk to you." Simon seemed to calm. "Ok. This is Marcus' house. Now tell me who you are." "Come in first." It looked the same as it had the last time Simon had seen it. The day he'd walked out. Without thinking he headed for the living room, switching on the light before sinking into one of the armchairs. Ben afforded himself an amazed look around the room before settling on the bar. Crossing to it, he poured himself a glass of water. Nicholas sat down across from Simon, staring into his dark eyes. He spoke slowly, "I'm living here now." "Ah, I see. My successor." Simon gave him a hateful glance. But then he asked quietly, "How is Marcus? Have I ... infected him?" "No." Nicholas voice was quiet too. A flash of relief flickered over Simon's face before it harden again. "Ok, boys. What am I doing here?" He alternated looks between all of them. "Would you believe that Marcus worries about you? And Kay." "Don't know a guy named Kay." "Your brother, man. Kristian." "Oh. Kay is his second name." Simon was still reserved. "He's been looking for you since you sent him this letter." Nicholas pulled the envelope from his jacket pocket. "Well, you seem to be well-informed. What's YOUR name?" "Nicholas. This is Ben and that's Matthias." "Fine and where is Kay? I believe I saw him recently. With Sebastian. Is that right?" "Yes. They're together now." Surprise showed as Simon's thin eyebrows rose . "Indeed?" He looked Nicholas up and down with no small amount of hostility. "And how long have you been Marcus' lover?" Nicholas returned the icey gaze. "A few months, but that doesn't matter, does it? Now that we have found you, what will you do? Kay is in Rome with Sebastian." Matthias followed the contrite discussion with discomfort. Simon seemed too cool, too mellow and he couldn't say that he liked him especially. It was hard to believe that Kay and Simon could be brothers. But then he thought about what Simon had gone through, what lay ahead of him... perhaps Simon had changed a great deal. He suppressed a yawn and looked at his watch. It was almost 1 am and he remembered Tina who was presumely sleeping already. He met Ben's tired look and they silently agreed to call it a night. "Would you like to stay the night?" He heard Nicholas' question. "We could talk." Simon's voice was unfriendly. "What shall we talk about? It's a lost evening for me. Have to go." He rose from the armchair but Nicholas hoped to persuade him. "Listen, if it's the money, you can have it, but I would like to have you here, to talk with you. You could speak to Kay tomorrow, what do you think?" Simon seemed unnerved. "You want to pay me? It's certainly Marcus' money, isn't it? I don't want his money." "Stop being so stubborn!" Nicholas' voice was suddenly cool. "Yes, it's Marcus' money. You know I'm kept, right? So what? I'm still studying. You have no idea how often your brother and Sebastian have gone without a wink of sleep because they've been out looking for you. And here you are, so put out!" Ben touched Matthias arm. "Come, let's go." He cleared his throat and asked, "Shall we bring you somewhere, Simon?" Simon held Nicholas' eyes. "Thanks guys, but I guess I'll stay here a little longer, ok?" Ben gave Nicholas a quick smile and nodded. "So have fun, boys. Call you tomorrow, ok?" He turned to Matthias who waved good bye and both were gone. Simon sat back in the soft arm chair and suddenly seemed very tired. "Want a glass of wine?" Nicholas asked, turning on the small lamp by the bar and extinquishing the larger, brighter lamps. "Please." This could be only a dream, Simon mused. He'd never wanted to see this room again, nor this house, nor Marcus. He closed his eyes and his head sank into the cushion. In a brief dream he saw Marcus bending over him, kissing him, he smelled his scent, the special Marcus-scent of cinnamon and lemon and a heavy sigh escaped his throat. Could he turn back time? Would he make the same mistakes again? Be bored in foreign towns, looking for other men to satisfy his sexual desires? Or would he sit demurely in the hotel room, probably playing with himself, waiting for a very tired Marcus to fall into bed beside him with few words or kisses? He might lie awake watching Marcus as he dreamt about a difficult negotion for some dull painting, a stupid sculpture, a bit or piece of useless junk... Simon suppressed the urge to laugh. That was the problem - his distinterst in all the things that Marcus pursued with both his heart and his wallet. Perhaps if Simon had been better educated, or at least interested in learning. If he'd returned to school... He opened his eyes wide as Nicholas returned with a bottle of with wine and took two glasses from one of the shelves. Condensation covered the chilled bottle. "What are you studying?" he asked. "Art. Painting mostly." "Ah, painting." Simon nodded. So perhaps Marcus had truly found someone better suited to him then. "Have you painted Marcus already? He's probably a good subject isn't he?" "Yes, he is." Nicholas poured the wine and held out a glass. Simon rose and took it. "Cheers, honey. To your lover." He didn't smile. "Hmmmm. I see Marcus' taste is still good." "The painting of you still hangs in the bedroom," Nicholas said carefully. "Yeah? Nice. Does it disturb you when you're fucking?" Nicholas' brows knit over his eyes. "Is that what you called it? You and he were only 'fucking'?" "What else?" Simon's eyes were empty, the mischievous expression gone. "You've never fucked, I suppose?" "Stupid. You know what I meant." Nicholas waved the topic away. "Let it be. Tell me instead, how are you?" Simon sipped at his wine, shrugging his shoulders. "Alright." After a while he added, "You're sure that Marcus isn't infected?" "Positive. So you sell your ass and deal drugs, right?" "You want me to hear your treatise? You're not my mother. Apropos of mothers... do you know how mine is?" "Good I think, they are living at Sylt." "They must have forgotten me by now." Simon shrugged again, "Well, that's the way of the world, I guess." "I don't think they have forgotten you." "You don't have to comfort me. It's ok as I said. I accepted it." "So you still feeling well?" "Yes. At least physically." He held out his empty glass. "Can I have more?" "Help yourself." He watched Simon filling his glass. "I have a little flat and... I'm satisfied." "But how can you live in this state? I don't understand." Simon sighed. "How could you? I suppose you were born in a place like this. That you've never had to slum it? It must be hard for you, looking down from so great a height." "No, you're wrong. My father works in a factory and mother is a supermarket cashier. We were always what you would call 'poor'. But this doesn't mean that I am poor in the mind, too." Simon laughed. "I see, so where did Marcus pick you up?" He saw anger flush Nicholas' face and soften his tone, "Sorry, you see my upbringing was rather coarse." "That's nonsense. I know Kay and he's different from you, not pig-headed or spiteful at all. You only wear that mask so nobody will see that you hurt!" "I'm wearing a mask?" Simon repeated and nodded lightly. "Maybe you're right. How astute of you." He glanced at his watch. "Mind if I sleep here? I'm not in the mood to go to a club, it's late." "Sure, you can sleep in the guestroom, it's always prepared." "Good old Anna still here? Or have you freezed her out?" "Unfortunately no!" Nicholas laughed. "Seriously, I haven't tried. She still rules the house." Simon looked into his eyes. "Pity for you. She can be a real dragon, you know." Both men moved slowly up the stairs, stopping in front of the door to the guest room. "Do you love him?" Simon asked low. Nicholas nodded. "May I ?" Simon looked across the hall, indicating the door to Marcus and Nicholas' room. "Only a quick look." Nicholas was surprised but opened the door. Simon stepped inside, noted the dishevelled bed and turned to the wall to have a look at his painting. "I hadn;t thought that it might still be here," he whispered before his gaze fell upon Nick's painting of Marcus. With a sharp stab to his stomach he looked over the naked body that hung beside his own. "Well done, Nick. Good night." Nicholas woke up unusually early and instantly remembered Simon. He tiptoed to the opposite door, opened it silently and peered inside. The bed was empty. Alarmed he went into the bathroom but Simon wasn't there. For some seconds he stood pondering in front of the unmade bed before he bounded downstairs to the kitchen. "Simon?" he shouted, but nobody answered him. "Shit!" Nicholas exclaimed but then he noticed a little sheet upon the table with an address and a telephone number. Nicholas sighed and shook his head. A look at his watch told him that it was ten minutes after 7 o'clock, meaning it was just after six in the morning in London. He would probably wake Marcus, but he didn't care. Marcus sleepy voice told him that he was right and he had to laugh. "Morning, sleepy head. I haven't awakened you, have I?" "Ah, shit, honey, why are you so good-humoured at this time of day? Fell out of bed laughing, did you?" "Actually, yes. I have good news. We found Simon last night." "Really?" Marcus' voice sounded more lively now. "Where?" "At the 'Nightfactory'. We kidnapped him!" "What?" "I mean he was here, but not entirely of his own volition. At least at first." "He was there? And? How does he look? How does he feel? What did he say?" "Good. He looks and feels good. He slept in the guest room but was gone when I got up. He left his address and the phone number though." "Typical Simon. Let's hope that the address is right. Have you called Kay yet?" "No, it's too early." "Ah, too early, eh?" Marcus snorted. "Kay would come back from Rome. I suppose, I should check the address first, before I spoil his holiday in Rome." "That's good thinking, Nicki. But tell me," Marcus said, "does he need money?" "I don't think so. If he can afford a flat he doesn't need money urgently. Although..." "Yes?" "I understand he's hustling and dealing, earning money selling his body and drugs." "What? Jesus!" There was a pause in the line. "I'll come back as soon as possible. I couldn't speak to Carlisle yesterday because he's not here yet. As soon he arrives Karl will arrange a meeting. I call you this afternoon, ok? What are you going to do this Sunday?" "Don't know. Make some calls; Simon, Matthias. I'll be wishing you were here." Marcus seemed to smile. "Don't forget to eat, angel. Talk to you later. Bye." "Bye." Nicholas thought about what to do next, but since it was so early, too early for making calls, he decided to go back to bed.The wind was no more than a light breeze gently blowing over a seemingly deserted Rome as Kay and Sebastian sauntered down the Gianicolo-hill with its winding, narrow streets toward the Tiber river. "Can you imagine what it must have been like, when this was a bustling port? When ships gathered from all around to unload their cargo?" The wind played with Sebastian's sandy hair, ruffling it as he spoke to Kay. He pointed to the walls of the quay. "All this, the high, stony walls were built after Garibaldi's urgent petition about a hundred years ago. Each year, the Tiber would flood Rome, bringing malaria and yellow fever - until these walls went up."
"Indeed? Hard to imagine." Kay said, feigning interest as he leaned over the sun-warmed, light grey stones, watching the river below. "Can we go to the island?"
"But of course. It's one of my favourite places. Come."
Together they walked along the Lungotevere, passing the river moorings, the Piazza Trilussa with its fountain, stopping when they reached the Ponte Cestio which led to the island.
"This was built in the first century before Christ but was rebuilt about hundred years ago with the original materials," Sebastian told Kay.
"It's hard to believe all this is so old, isn't it?"
Sebastian nodded. "Yes, it is. Living here generation after generation, century after century, the citizens don't even notice anymore. This is the church and monastery of San Bartolomeo, before that, it was a was a pagan temple. The Benedictine monks built right over the original temple!"
Sebastian took Kay's hand and walked over the bridge onto the island. "There's a legend that says once the Roman people wanted to get advice from the Greek god of medicine - Aesculapius - to end an outbreak of the plague. The god came from Epidauros in form of a snake with a Trireme, an ancient ship. The snake-god swam through the river to this island and healed the town. To give thanks, the people built a temple which was dedicated to him. That's how the island got its boat-shape."
"Seems to be a huge church now," Kay said. "So people suffering from the plague lived here?"
"Yes, and now it is a hospital." Sebastian pulled Kay along, farther up to the top of the island and sat with him on the sun-warmed marble stones, looking into the water.
"You realize that this river has seen it all things, right? Everything that has happened here? In fact, it carried Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, to safety after they were cast into the river.
"Can you imagine how the fire was mirrored in this water when emperor Nero burnt out the poor people to make room for his splendid buildings? Or, imagine Pope Urban calling for the removal of the infidels from Jerusalem, resulting in the First Crusade? As the Borgia Pope Alexander and his son, Cesare, ruled the town? Every morning the river ran red from the blood of the those killed the night before and Rome trembled before the enemy of all pity and all compassion, quaked while Michelangelo carved the final letters of his name into the bandage on the breast of the Holy Mary."
Kay looked into Sebastian's face. "You know a lot, don't you? Tell me about this bandage?"
Sebastian laughed. "But certainly you've seen the Pieta standing in St. Peter's Basilica, haven't you?"
"Ah, yes. Now I remember. But remember, I'm not good at history."
"It doesn't matter. Why don't you tell me how many lovers you've had?"
"How many lovers? Certainly not as many as you've had! I would believe that the whole of Rome is full of lovers you've abandoned!"
"That's what you think?" Sebastian's face was suddenly serious. "You exaggerate, honey. Have you ever been in a serious relationship?"
"Nothing that's lasted very long. The world is full of hot guys, you know."
Sebastian ignored the comment and stood up to stretch his legs. "I'm hungry, how about visiting a nice Trattoria?"
During their meal of tramezzini in the little restaurant, Sebastian watched Kay wondering how it would be if Nicki was in his place. Certainly he could talk to him about all the old stones and monuments and even the old legends. Kay was a cheerful lad but Sebastian wondered how he could he fulfill his deeper longings for a real partnership. The older man sighed inwardly, torn between the feelings of the body and the mind.
"Now what do you want to show me?" Kay asked wiping his mouth, the sandwich finished.
"Anything you want. But if you want to see it all, then you need to live here. Although I suppose no one has seen it all, exactly."
Kay grinned. "Is that an invitation?" He asked, tugging at his earring.
Sebastian grinned as well, but didn't reply . "Come with me. I'll show you something."
Sebastian pointed out the belfry high above them as they approached the brown stone church. Kay regarded him with an affectionate but wary eye as he stepped through the door Sebastian held open. Inside, the vestibule was surrounded by trellises, nearly obscuring the small entrance. A round mask, carved from stone hung on the door, mouth agape.
"Voila! The Bocca della Verita," Sebastian declared. "The legend says that anyone who puts his hand in the mouth and tells a lie will have it bitten off."
Kay laughed. "But that's a joke, isn't it?"
"No. All the people I spoke to confirmed the story. Although, it seems likely that a man stood behind the door, sword in hand, to cut it off."
"Aha. Then do you want to swear something? Maybe that you love me?"
"It's a dangerous thing! I wouldn't be that gullible. All legends have a true core. Want to try it out?"
"You haven't engaged a swordsman have you?" Kay winked at Sebastian. Then, without hesitation he set his right hand in the gaping mouth and with great drama, said "I swear that I haven't had as that many lovers as you have. And I also swear that I've never been as happy as I am now. Somebody can cut off my hand if I'm lying when I say you're the man I want to live with."
Kay watched his hand buried inside the mouth of the mask. Nothing happened. "You see!" he said laughing. "It must be the truth!"
Initially the expression on Sebastian's face was perplexed, but then his face lit up, "You've sworn you want to live with me, sweetie? Before all the Roman Gods?" He stepped beside Kay, kissing him deeply until Kay struggled free, needing to breathe. "How romantic!" Sebastian whispered.
"I am romantic, haven't you noticed?"
"No, I never noticed before." Sebastian was still smiling but inwardly something ached.
To be continued