In the following story, all of the characters are totally fictive and the setting is real. For whomever it would be illegal, immoral or prohibited for any other reason whatsoever to read a story about love between two young men is kindly requested to refrain from continuing. A free picture album illustrating this story (pdf) is available upon request at maringiustinian@gmail.com. Please remember to help Nifty stay online by sending your contribution. This being said, I hope you enjoy the tale.
TUSCANY, part three and end
by Marin Giustinian
PIENZA, TUSCANY, 2018
The following morning, with a good hangover, Marco showed Hugh Siena from the inside, avoiding the tourists whenever possible. They enjoyed a pizza looking at the tall tower dominating the Campo, the vast, oval piazza in the heart of the city. Returning to the palazzetto to take leave of the family, Marco, dreading Hugh's departure, said he needed to come have lunch with his fathers after having to leave Hugh at the airport in Florence. Armando hugged his son a bit longer, saying, "You can count on us, son. We'll be there!"
He needed that hug a lot!
They were both very quiet driving back to Marco's house and gallery in Pienza. Both were dreading the deadline of Hugh's departure. They bathed, ate some of Douglas's food for supper, then they simply went to bed early, cuddling.
"You'll write?"
"Everyday."
"I'll answer everyday too."
"We can Skype..."
"And I can pay your air fare to come back whenever you can. I'm going to miss you way too much, Hugh."
"I'm going to miss you too. I hate thinking about it."
Then they finally stopped talking and made desperate, heavy love late into the night.
They spent the last day trying to be jovial. They talked about the things they had done and about what they were going to do. Hugh had become unsure about what he wanted to major in, even about studying at all.
"All I know is that my parents compel me to to continue my studies. There's no way to argue about that. They always have the last word..."
"Do you want to study?"
"I don't know... I don't know anything now!"
"Listen, Hugh, you must come back during the winter holidays! Tuscany is beautiful in the winter too. We can cuddle in front of the fire and roast chestnuts. Do you like roasted chestnuts?"
Hugh smiled a little and nodded.
"We'll drink Brunello and spend hours in bed. My fathers go crazy with Christmas decorations and their New Year's party is the talk of all Siena! Promise you'll come! I'll send you your air fare for a present!"
"And I'll bring you an Irish sweater... I promise!"
They did all they could to avoid weeping, and it was hard! They went for a long walk in the country. In a solitary patch of woods, they kissed and began to stroke each other, then told each other that it would be better to wait. They returned to the house. Hugh finished his packing. They agreed that they couldn't face going to Livio's for dinner and finished the salmon with some cheese and wine. Then they went to bed, filling each other with their hopes, trust and patience until sleep overtook them.
They held each other all night long. The alarm went off. The countdown started.
The early dawn drive to the airport was terrible. Hugh's check-in limit was for 8:35 AM. They left at six. Tears dripped down Hugh's cheeks as he sniffled all the way, looking out the window.
"I repeat, why don't you stay, Hugh? You're making yourself sick!"
"Leave me alone! I've got to go, Marco... I don't know why, but I know I must!"
"I'm sorry, Hugh. I didn't mean to hurt you..."
"I know you didn't -- and I know too that I'll be back! I can't say when, but I'll be back to you! I love you, Marco Gabrielli!"
"Anch'io, ti amo! TI AMO!"
They unloaded the bicycle, Marco helped him put his rucksack on. Marco watched Hugh wave one last time and disappear with the others, through the door into the departure hall. The car behind him honked. Marco drove off, his eyes blurred. He pulled aside and collapsed on the steering wheel, sobbing.
Entering the crowded airport, Hugh felt faint. His knees quivered as he vaguely looked for the oversized luggage check-in counter. He was barely on time and should have hurried, but he lacked energy. He dodged the rushing people, dragging their bags or pushing their trolleys. He walked his bicycle the best he could, holding back his tears and an urge to vomit. Marco's 'ti amo' echoed in his brain. At one point he stopped, breathed deeply, and said to himself, "What in the hell am I doing here?"
Tears streamed down his face. People were hurrying around him, ignoring him, sometimes rudely brushing him aside. He felt cold, numb, terribly alone, standing there in a kind of deafening silence. The check-in counter was in view. Another cyclist dashed up to the counter. He just stood there, inert, wondered, what would REALLY happen if he didn't return?
He realised that he was totally adult, a citizen of the European Community, and as an Irishman, he had the right to live and work in Italy as he pleased.
He thought to himself, "In fact, nothing forces me to get on that plane but myself."
As he was squeezing the grips on his bike he realised that even if his parents became furious, they wouldn't ever get on a plane, come to Italy, and kidnap him. He was an adult now! Then he smiled, nearly laughing as the following scheme dawned in his head: "I'm going to let the plane leave without me, send my parents a text saying that I'm looking for another flight. That's what I'm going to do and do it right after the time of departure is over! Then I get to Siena as soon as possible. I'll grab a train! I'll find Marco! Marco! Marco!"
Suddenly he felt a surge of energy rising. He hurried to the arrivals area, ran up to the tourist information desk. Fortunately there were very few people queuing up. He fidgeted until it was his turn. A charming young lady smiled and waited for him to speak.
He cleared his throat and stated, "Good morning, it's urgent that I leave for Siena. Can you explain to me how to get to the correct train station?"
"Of course, Sir... I see you're on a bicycle. The best is that I give you a map. There are automatic ticket vendors in the station hall. Usually there's a train every hour."
"Thank you so much!"
Once outside he studied the map and saw that he could be at the station in less than half an hour. He peddled like a madman! He flew on invisible wings. Thoughts sped through his mind: He knew that Marco would be having lunch with his fathers. They eat late... I'll get there before he leaves. I'll call once I'm on the train. No need to call before... But where was the palazzetto? Will I remember how to find it?
He fumbled with the automatic ticket vendor. Fortunately, a very nice lady helped him. He saw that there was a train for Siena leaving in twelve minutes. He scurried to platform, boarded the train, hung his bike, and fell exhausted into a seat by the window.
In spite of his fatigue, his thoughts were sparking like fireworks. He was happy... not only happy, he was elated! He took out his phone, and punched in Marco's number.
No answer. Marco had cut off his phone. Then Hugh remembered he always did that while driving. He left a message, "Marco! I didn't take the plane! I'm coming back to you. I'm on the train for Siena. If you get the message in time to meet me at the station, that would be great. If not, I'll try to find the palazzetto on my own. Please call as soon as you hear this! I love you! Ti amo!"
The train rumbled off. Then he punched in the following SMS to his parents: "Missed the flight back. No availability today. Looking for another flight as soon as possible. I'm fine. Don't worry! Hugs, Hugh". He hit 'send' and slouched back in his seat, watching the countryside speed by. Tears again filled his eyes, this time because of his joy to have made such an important decision all by himself, for himself... and for Marco. He whispered to himself, "Life is beautiful!"
The train sped, but for Hugh, it was creeping. He counted the minutes. He nibbled the corner of his phone, praying for it to ring. Still nothing.
Suddenly stupid doubts began to gnaw his stomach. He began to dread that Marco had an accident. He asked himself, did he hear my message but doesn't want to see me anymore? Was he playing like he loved me just to fuck? Were he and his fag fathers going to just laugh about what a gullible arse I was?
Then came the sound of an incoming message. Hugh startled, held his breath and read: Be careful and keep us informed, Mum.
SHIT!
The train pulled into Siena. Hugh grabbed his bike, stepped out of the coach. He looked everywhere to see if Marco was there. No Marco anywhere. He tried to call again. Still no answer...
He began to panic a little as he rode into the town centre. He desperately tried to recognise something familiar. The more he rode, the more he was lost. He stopped on the edge of the Campo, in front of the pizzeria where he and Marco had eaten. He decided to wait there and have faith. He couldn't do anything else. He kept on persuading himself that Marco would soon call, since they were bonded! He knew that if Marco was in trouble, he would feel it. Whatever, he was sick with impatience anyhow!
Precisely at the very moment he was going to try another call, his phone rang.
"Marco! Good God! It's you!"
"Where are you?"
"I'm in Siena, in front of the Pizzeria del Campo."
"Stay there! I'm just two streets behind the tower."
Hugh shouted, "I'm looking at that tower right now."
"Me too! Don't move! I'm coming! I'm running! I'm exploding to see you!"
Hugh was sweating as he strained his eyes, scanning the Campo, waiting for Marco to appear. His heart drummed in his chest. His mouth was parched.
Finally he recognised Marco running across the Campo. Hugh jumped on his bike and struck out in his direction. A nearby policeman blew his whistle. It's shrillness split the air. Oblivious to the warning, Hugh peddled like mad! Other policemen ran in direction of the speeding bike. Hugh's tyres screeched, sliding to a stop at Marco's feet. He leapt from his bike, letting it fall. Marco grabbed him and they kissed right there in front of God and everybody. Some very surprised tourists had stopped, seeing the police chasing the cyclist, and then applauded, witnessing the most romantic love scene imaginable. It was as if they were in a film, but this time the film was for real! The police stopped a few meters away and smiled. One of them picked up Hugh's bike, walked up, and touched Hugh's shoulder, clearing his throat.
"Per cortesia, Signore..."
Marco, still holding Hugh tight against him.
The officer tried to be stern as he said, "Bici... vietato!"
"Va bene!" declared Marco.
"What's that about?"
"He said that bicycles are forbidden on the Campo..."
"I'm sorry, Sir..."
Then he exploded laughing, "No! I'm not sorry! No, not in the least am I sorry, not at all! I'M IN LOVE!"
The officer smiled. In the small crowd that had gathered, a tourist shouted, "Long live the lovers!" Even the policemen applauded!
When they entered the palazzetto, Alma already had a bottle of champagne open to celebrate Hugh's return.
Douglas shouted, "Goodness gracious, child, you do make up your mind in a hurry, don't you? Come here and let me hug you! Marco's one happy dude that he is, honey! He ran out of here like a bat out of hell!"
Armando grabbed his son by the arm, smiling from ear to ear. Then he walked up to Hugh and simply said, "Welcome home, my dear Hugh. Do your parents know where you are?"
As things calmed down, Hugh informed the family how he had made his decision.
"Of course they know you've missed the plane, but do they know that you've chosen to stay with the man you love?"
"Not yet... and I don't know how to tell them... I'm still terribly mixed up."
"Well, young man, sooner or later they have to be informed not only that you've decided to stay with Marco, but also why you're staying. You owe that to them."
As Armando spoke, Douglas translated for Countess Alma, who nodded over and over her total approval. Then she spoke up, "Raggazzi! Beviamo primo di tutto all'amore!"
"Yes, before anything else, we must drink to love," repeated Douglas, passing out the cups of champagne.
Hugh and Marco raised their cups, drank, and then just stood there looking at each other, smiling like morons.
"We want a kiss! Sweethearts!" shouted Douglas, as Armando and Alma raised their cups.
They kissed. Alma shouted, "E viva!"
Armando then spoke up, "Now, listen to me boys. This is what you've got to do. You, Marco, you get on the internet and book a flight immediately for the both of you. Book a round trip to wherever it is that Hugh's parents live. Hugh, I'm sure you lost your return trip, not showing up. No problem. I'm taking care of that. So, when you have your reservations, then, you, Hugh, you call your parents and only announce your return. Don't say a thing about Marco being with you. Go do it now. Lunch can wait."
"Father, you mean I go with Hugh and..."
Armando cut him short, "Boy! Do what I said! Book the damn flight, ROUND TRIP, for you both. You must leave tomorrow and the return the day after! Grab any available seats, even in Business... I'm paying! Here, take my Visa card. Of course you leave with Hugh... You are involved in this thing after all! So DO LIKE I SAID! And you, Hugh, go and make sure he does it well! Am I clear?"
"Very clear, Dad! Hugh, come on! The computer's in the study."
They both left, talking to each other at the same time. Marco found the two last seats on a KLM flight to Dublin via Amsterdam for the following morning at six. Hugh called, gave the information concerning his return and said he didn't need to be met. He could arrive on his own. Marco printed out their boarding passes and came back waving them like trophies.
"Now we can have a leisurely lunch..." commented Armando, hugging Marco on one side and Hugh on the other. Douglas and Alma applauded as they entered the dining room.
They chatted around the table. Armando said, "I've another idea. The best thing for you to do is to bring the drawing you made of Hugh, the one you gave to me, and give it as a gift to Hugh's parents. It can be the best of explanations. As for us, you can give us another drawing... a bit more complete, if you see what I mean?"
Douglas giggled saying, "Yes, yes... much more complete! Ha!"
"I love both of you, you two lewd old men!" exclaimed Marco.
Before they left, Douglas gave them a stock of smoked salmon, some cheese and a basket of fruit. He winked, saying that way they could stay in for dinner! Alma kissed them both. Armando walked with them to the van.
"Marco! Live up to Hugh's faith in you! And don't miss the plane tomorrow morning! I love you both! Vi amo tanto!"
"We love you too, Dad... Anche noi!"
As they were driving back, Hugh kept smiling, chuckling sometimes all by himself, staring out the window. As they were nearing Pienza, he said, "Marco... I'm thirsty."
"Me too..."
They threw off their clothes, climbing the stairs, two steps at a time. They fell on the cushions and indulged in a long, loving, nerve soothing sixty-nine. The simple elation of being where he was, with whom he was, involved in deep communion together, Hugh couldn't help giggling as he sucked. It was contagious. They both jacked each other, sucking and laughing, licking and loving, until nature took over. They began laughing out loud, frantically pumping each other's sex up to the crucial moment in which their semen spouting like a fountain fell a bit everywhere. Then they wallowed all over each other, laughing even more.
"Feel better?" chuckled Marco wiping himself, and then Hugh.
"Now I'm hungry! Can we dine now? We can go to bed early and bond some more before sleeping, flying and then meeting my parents."
"I love your sense of planning, Hugh!"
As they were putting things on the table for dinner, they talked about their "mission" to the Gallagher household. Hugh was totally unable to say if his parents would be shocked, offended, rude, violent, or understanding, accepting, and openminded.
"We'll see what we'll see... that's all I can say," stated Hugh, "but whatever happens, we'll stand together!"
They dined, clean up the table, went upstairs, and double-checked their travel documents. They took a leisurely bath together. Hugh put a cruet of olive oil on the bed table. Both their phone alarms were set for three forty-five in the morning. They slid in bed, already anticipating some very joyful moments of fusion before trying to catch some sleep.
Their departure from Florence at six went well. With a change in Amsterdam, they landed at 10:25, local time in Dublin. The train left Dublin Connolly at a quarter past noon and arrived in Maynooth at one.
Hugh was nervous. Marco was absorbed taking in everything he saw. Everything was so new, even exotic for him. He had been on holidays with his fathers to their favourite Greek island, gone on a school trip to Paris, and flown with Douglas and Armando to Charleston for a visit with Douglas's sister. Other than that, he had only known Italy... He was suddenly realising how totally different Hugh's world was from his. He too was a bit nervous as they paid the taxi and walked up to the very correct town house on a very boring street.
"They will be back around three thirty," stated Hugh, putting his key in the door.
Inside, the house was cosy, very Irish middle-class. Hugh showed Marco around, then they went up to his room. Like he had said, there was a big poster of Botticelli's Spring pinned on the wall and a clumsy reproduction of Michelangelo's David on the desk. There were a few big art books on the shelf. For the rest it was the typical teenager's room. Hugh also had his fencing mask and a pair of foils crossed on the wall.
"Let's rest up some," suggested Hugh, patting the bed on which he had stretched out.
As they cuddled, Hugh whispered, "I can't believe that I'm here in my room... the only room I've ever known... with YOU! It's as if I'm on this bed for the first time and that all this is but a dream."
Marco tickled him, making him scream, "You're not dreaming my sweet prince! This is real, more than real!"
"Kiss me!"
As they were making out, a voice shouted, "Are you up there, Hugh?"
Startled, Hugh shouted back, "Yes, Mum! Be right down!"
She shouted again, "Your father and I came back early to see you, dear!" I'll be in the kitchen.
He jumped off the bed, flattened his hair, and took a deep breath. Marco picked up the picture frame wrapped in brown paper and followed Hugh. They were both dripping cold sweat under their arms.
Hugh, then Marco, entered the vestibule at he foot of the stairs as Mr. Gallagher was closing the front door.
"Welcome back, Son!" then noticing Marco, inquired, puzzled, 'And who is our guest?"
Mrs. Gallagher came running into the vestibule and immediately hugged her boy without noticing Marco.
Hugh politely made the introductions, "Mum, Dad, this is Marco Garbrielli with whom I've spent the most wonderful week of my life. Marco, my parents."
"Pleased to meet you... So you finally found a flight... How clumsy of you to have missed the plane yesterday! Did you put your bags in the upstairs rooms?" continued Mrs. Gallagher as they went into the little living room.
"Everything's taken care of, Mum..."
"So, Mr. Gabrielli, I hope you speak English..."
"Yes, Madame. English is no problem."
Mr. Gallagher then asked, "What's your line of activity? Still studying?"
"I'm an artist, having studied in the Fine Arts Academy of Siena. I'm now working on my own..."
"How interesting... Mr. Gabrielli, it's a pleasure having you! I'm going to make tea and if you don't mind, I want Hugh to tell us everything about his trip -- and about his week with you... I'm dying of curiosity."
"Good idea, dear. I have to put some things in the garage. I'll be right back," stated Mr. Gallagher.
Hugh and Marco sat on the sofa together. Mrs. Gallagher came back with the tea tray and some cookies. Mr. Gallagher returned asking, "Hugh, where's your bicycle?"
"In Pienza, Dad."
"Where?"
"Pienza, in Italy, in Marco's house."
"What's it doing there?"
"I'll explain later."
Mrs. Gallagher served the tea and sat.
"So! Tell us everything!"
Hugh took a sip of his tea, glanced at Marco and then began from the start. He described the visit of Florence and then Siena. Mrs. Gallagher interrupted him, thanking him for the postcard. Then he continued. He related his experience camping in the country and then came to the part about the accident.
"And that's how I met Marco. He rescued me, so to speak. I was really upset. He took things in hand, drove me and my bike to the repair shop and invited me to his house in the village of Pienza while the repairs were being made... Pienza is the most beautiful village in all of Tuscany!"
"How very kind of you, Mr. Gabrielli..."
"Quite natural, Madame."
"And then what?" inquired Mr. Gallagher with an undertone of impatience.
"Marco and I have been inseparable ever since..."
Hugh's parents remained silent, looking a bit puzzled.
Hugh continued, "We've brought something for you. It's in the entrance. I think it's the moment to give it to you..."
He returned with the frame, handed it to his father, saying, "It's our gift to you."
Even more puzzled, Mr. Gallagher ripped off the paper wrapping and looked a bit surprised as he discovered the ravished, reclining, young man depicted nude in the drawing. He handed the frame over to his wife. She gasped and then politely smiled at Marco.
"One of your works, I presume, Mr. Gabrielli?"
"My most recent."
Mr. Gallagher bluntly asked, "Is that you, Hugh, posing naked?"
"Yes, Dad that's me, happier than I have ever been."
"Are you a homosexual, Mr. Gabrielli?"
Hugh immediately answered, "Yes, father, both Marco and I are gay -- homosexuals, if you want, and we are in love... deeply in love. We came to share the good news with you before we return to Pienza tomorrow afternoon. I'm going to live and work with him over there."
"Are you joking, Hugh. If so, it's not funny at all!"
"I'm not joking, father."
"Really?"
"Yes,... really!"
Turning to Marco, Mr. Gallagher asked, trying to keep his calm, "What does your family think about that, Mr. Gabrielli?"
"They love your son. They know everything!"
"They even congratulated us with champagne, Dad!"
Wide-eyed, both Mrs. and Mr. Gallagher, looked at Marco, then at Hugh.
"You must admit, that's all a bit overwhelming for us," finally uttered Mr. Gallagher.
Mrs. Gallagher looked at the drawing again, and then at Hugh.
"I must say, you are very handsome in the picture, Hugh. Mr. Gabrielli did a wonderful job."
Marco then spoke up, "Madame, please call me Marco. I love your son. We love each other. He is my earth and my sky, my inspiration, my breath of life. When both of you conceived him, I doubt you were aware, that at that very extraordinary moment of ecstasy you were experiencing then, that you were giving life to a miracle."
"Marco, you have a special way of putting things, I must say." stuttered Mr. Gallagher.
Hugh interjected, "Marco, my father's name is James and my mother's, Amy. It's easier that way!"
"If you say so, young man, I suppose I can't disagree then, can I?"
"No, you can't, Dad. I'm now your adult son who loves you more than ever. All I want is that you and Mum be happy for me, for us."
"Excuse me... I think I need to go take a little walk and let all that soak in. Give me a little time... Amy, would you please come with me?"
Glancing at Hugh, then at Marco, she laid the frame on the coffee table, stood and replied, "Of course, dear. I'm coming. Please do excuse us..."
As soon as they were alone again in the living room, Hugh nearly collapsed on Marco's shoulder. Marco held him, saying, "You were very brave! Clear, affectionate and steadfast! You are wonderful. I love you."
"I think they will accept us. Did you notice that my father called you by your name: Marco?"
"Yes, and when they return, we'll see if we go to a restaurant and hotel tonight or have a party here..."
Amy and James returned looking much less stressed.
Amy picked up the frame and propped it up on the mantle piece, announcing, "I think we can hang it here. I'm tired of that silly landscape anyway."
"Good idea, dear. That way we'll have our gorgeous, naked, gay son with us every evening. Boys, I'm going to pour myself a much needed glass of whiskey. Marco, will you join me?"
"Thank you, James. I'll have it with ice, like your son..."
"Like my son?".
"Yes, Dad, I'm Irish after all and in Count Gabrielli's palace they all drink Jameson or Jack Daniel's."
"Amy, could you bring us some ice, dear? I gather that the Gabriellis are gentry of taste!" He handed his son a glass, saying, "Well, Irish you are, my boy... And you're my adorable son."
Hugh put his glass down and opened his arms. His father did the same, and they hugged.
Coming in with the ice bowl, Amy exclaimed, "Wait for me!" She put the ice on the coffee table, grabbed Marco by the arm, and joined the scrum as they all hugged together. Hugh couldn't hold back his tears, laughing at the same time.
As James finished pouring the whiskey, they took their glasses and sat back down. Hugh asked Marco, "Do you mind if I tell them about your father's adorable accident of youth?"
"Go ahead..."
Hugh told his parents about Marco's family. His father and Douglas, from Charleston, his grandmother, Countess Alma, and her fake leopard pants, the palace and the ancestors' portraits hanging in the monumental staircase. Then he explained that every man has a gay side. For some men, it becomes their only side, but before that, they could actually have an 'adorable accident' like Marco.
Amy sat there sipping her sherry, giggling. Then she interrupted, "You know, Hugh, you were sort of an unexpected surprise too. While we were on holidays in Spain, it was so hot, I thought I had already begun menopause. The heat did a lot to your father too, I must say! Anyway, now here you are eighteen years later, my adorable Spanish accident! Marco, I want you to know that I've always wanted an artist in the family, and now there is one!"
James spoke up, "I guess I have to make the best of all that. Strangely enough, Gallagher means 'lover of foreigners' so I suppose my son is simply living up to his name. I only hope that you'll be happy... and have room for us when we both come to visit you in Tuscany."
"You're not afraid of me going to hell for being homosexual, are you, Dad?"
"Your mother and I have just talked about the stand of the Church on homosexuality. I agree with her when she says that where true love is involved, there's no sin. I'm not the Pope, but I feel she's right... It's obvious you two love each other. I don't understand any of all that, but love haloes around you so strong that it burns my eyes. So, if you go to hell, it won't be for what you do in bed... or elsewhere... I've read the story of David and Jonathan in the Old Testament. Even if nobody dares mentioning it, I also believe that Jesus, having been intimate with a prostitute, the Holy Mary Magdalena and raised her gay brother, Lazarus, from the dead, well, He would... or to be more correct, He does bless you too. My only concern is your safety! Just be careful!"
"In Tuscany, James, there's nothing to fear along that line."
"I'm glad, young man. You're a charming, talented... and if I can't say son-in-law, let me say son-in-love!" then turning to his wife, he sternly suggested, "Dear, don't you think we should eat something before we menfolk are all roaring drunk?"
Hugh threw himself on his father, hugging him with all his might.
"Now, now... Calm down, Hugh! Don't you think you should save that for Marco?" joked Mr. Gallagher.
"I've got enough for everybody, Dad! -- Mum, what's for dinner?"
"Is he like that with you, Marco? Always famished?"
"Always!"
After a very happy dinner, full of toasts and laughter, both couples retired bidding each other sweet dreams.
Marco winked at Hugh saying, "They don't look like they're ready to have dreams yet..."
"Me neither! Ha!"
On their flight back, Hugh stated, "I'm going to take lessons in Italian, work in your gallery, and learn how to run your business. All you'll have to do is create and give interviews!"
"But to create, I need inspiration. Love is my only muse, my darling Irish prince," he asserted, kissing Hugh on the cheek.
"Your Irish prince and muse shall take care of that too, my handsome Tuscan Lord!" he whispered, as he pulled Marco's face to his and kissed his luscious lips.
"Gentlemen, excuse me. Would you like coffee, tea, or orange juice?" stuttered the young flight attendant, tilting his head as he smiled, unable to refrain from blushing...
The End