Makarovia! Yes, I Know Where That is! Sophomore Year - 50. Chapter 50

Athens

“You don't know the satisfaction when I hear words like that.” Henri smiled, but his voice said he was very serious. “I'm richly rewarded when I do what you say I have with you.”

Smartass. That's me. Remember me saying that? “Okay, we'll text Olek and tell him you're bill has been comped.”

Henri's grin grew. “Well, don't go crazy with what I said.”

We chuckled. “You're worth every dime.” Peter encouraged.

“I prefer francs.” He bowed slightly.

“No running with those scissors, huh?” Peter chuckled.

This time, I was the one that hadn't heard it before. “What?”

“Ted Dawe again.” He grinned. “It was something his grandmother said when he did something he was warned not to do. He liked taking risks.”

I nodded closing one eye to look at him a little more carefully. “I see.”

I didn't care. I didn't own Peter and the way he was a human being. The very thought of him cheated...it was ludicrous! I thought the world of adult men. Some even attracted me, but would I do it? Hell, no. Having someone you thought “belonged” to you is a form of prison. I may not trust people we're with a lot of times, but I trusted Peter. Tomorrow, we were seeing Greece.

My normal was the worse, more complicated or the farthest working our way in. Corfu had little to choose. Athens had a lot to choose from. A wonderful task!

From Pireas, Athens was North and a little East. It wasn't that far, but Yuri would never say okay for us walking. There were temples, forums, stages and areas for athletics. They were really big on that. Running, jumping and wrestling. Naked!! I'd be in the front row!

Talk about commercial endorsement!? Pederasty? It was everywhere. Accepted and encouraged! It was a compliment for an older man to have his heart taken by a handsome youth! Yuri was right about Greece. They adored us here!

Henri knew we were going, but he insisted we have something to keep us going. That morning, we both had French Toast. A, pile it on, stay with you kind of mega-toast. Coffee! Heavy-duty coffee. Gettcha going coffee so thick it was a shake coffee.

Delphi. It was a little North and furthest East of Athens. It was famous! The Oracle of Delphi? It must have worked, otherwise nobody would use it!

We get there and my first impression was surprise. I'd seen it in paintings before and knew what originally appeared. A circle of columns had been here. Three remained standing testifying to what was. I found out it had recently been restored to haunt imaginations like mine clues about putting it together.

It had been many things in the past. Apollo's temple, Council Chambers and Treasury. Temples to others deities and even a gym!! How else would the right man choose the right teenage boy approaching manhood? Imagine a society than embraces that and feels sorry for the young man that didn't become chosen!? Even Makarovia doesn't have that.

I chuckled. “I wonder how many of our ancestors have stood here looking at this?” I waved at the ruins as Peter's eyes widened.

“How do you know they were?” Peter asked.

“Two thousand years ago?” I pointed out. “Going by the power of four for each generation...I know it would be crowded here today! Father to son and back by four on each of our parents...some will over lap but would go in the millions!” I patted a fallen column. It was solid and firmly set on the ground. It wasn't moving now. There were earthquakes in Greece and all over the Mediterranean. That would be the only thing to move it even by accident. A group of men with ropes, horses and brute strength might move it a little. Someone put them up! Math. It was a necessary evil to me. I saw Peter's eyes widen at the magnitude of what I said. He was very smart and knew, but hadn't thought about it yet. I took his hand as we looked around more.

We didn't have time! We could take any we needed, but two weeks was all we had to take and go back to Makarovia. A decision had to be made by Olek and Helga. Soon. Reality was trying to suck me back in. I refused to go.

We chose eight to ten historical sites. No rushing to get to them all. There would be a next time.

Everyone knows the Acropolis. We've all seen it on television even if we didn't catch the name. The Temple to Athena, the goddess of wisdom and guardian of Athens.

Stoa had a reproduction of the temple set up. A reproduction of the real temple as it would appear in the past. It was sort of like a mall in the past.

The Temple of Hephaestus was remarkably well preserved. He was god of the forge. Metals! All things metal was here. I heard it was the one temple used the most and more recently. It hadn't been neglected as long.

After a few more stops, we stopped for lunch at a place called Oroscopo.

“”They have Calamari,” Peter grinned pointing it out, but stopped.

“Sorry,” I grinned at Peter. “Henri has spoiled me on that now.”

Peter nodded with a chuckle as he understood the sentiment.

“Is there a place you want to go?” I asked again to be sure. “This is our honeymoon.” I pointed toward him and myself.

Peter rolled his eyes putting his menu down and leaned toward me. “I've not gone anywhere I haven't wanted to, Mr. Ivanov.” He shook his head. “Even if it was just your decision. What's wrong with that? You don't have a narcissistic bone in your entire body. It's never just about you.”

Okay, I thought. I can go to bed tonight having learned a new word in Makarovian. Understanding was easy by the word usage in the sentence. I nodded. “Thank you.”

Word that we were here spread fast. It would prove to be more of a challenge tomorrow. Paparazzi is paparazzi. The pursuit of that famous picture was just weighing them down. Leaving was posing a problem. The exit was blocked by other tourists as well as photographers. What was needed were some distractions. Misdirection. The restaurant wasn't large. Where we had been seated was viable by the light of the midday sun. Something we used. Our waiter came, looking at us as he began talking possible deserts. He was our age!

“...and a wonderful selection of Balaclava.” Capriano said pointing at the menu with his pen as if talking about them. “Just nod if you want help getting out of here.” He clearly said without seeming to move his mouth.

Peter pointed to something on the menu and nodded. “Any assistance we can get. Please?”

“You've done this before.” I smiled.

Capriano gave a slight shrug and nod. “Oh, sure.” He said smugly. “We help royal couples like you two every week!” He grinned.

He spoke English almost like a man from England would. His accent told that. Peter asked. “Were your raised in England?”

Capriano smiled nodding. “From when I finishing high school and went to university.” He looked up at the onlookers. Some were braving to come in, like they wanted to eat here. One question told wait staff if they were. If they ordered lunch, it would be fifteen minutes to wait. Outside. There were no chairs to sit inside. It was a beautiful day in Spring! They had seating out there, too. Peter and I thought that was a little too visible. Our bodyguards were around us like statues. There were other customers eating but seemed to be taking longer after we arrived. Strange how that always seemed to happen.

There were a few tables, chairs in those places between the window and Peter and me. By perspective we were smaller when three wait staff stood half way between us and the window. There was even an almost perfect reflection of them that tried to see past. Holding some big serving trays to block the view even more! Just for a few seconds! Then they wait staff stood aside and we were gone. All of us, including bodyguards.

“They've gone out the back!” A man shouted pointing to the restaurant behind us. “They've gone out back!”

The crowd parted as both chose ways. Almost evenly. Waiting a few seconds Capriano waved in the opposite of the restaurant obvious expected way to exit. Where we actually were was a small alcove where large boxes, cans and supplies were kept. “Go, go, go!”

“Efcharistó, Capriano.” Peter said thanks in Greek.

“Parakaló.” He gave back. “And it's Capri for friends.”

Others at lunch were now concluding and some were applauding our successful efforts.

Going out the front we encountered one photographer that hadn't run. He was not that young, but old enough to be easily fooled very much. He nodded appreciatively saying in Russian. “YA podozreval, chto eto mozhet byt' tak.” I suspected this might be the case.

I smiled at him. “Ty byl prav.” Telling him he was right. He calmly clicked a few shots in, no rush now.

Mercea started the SUV and slammed it into gear and took off.

Some of the ones we duped hurried back to their personal vehicles. Most were motorcycles for the ease of weaving in and out of traffic. Usually by two per bike. One to drive, the other to take the shots with a camera.

It wasn't planned by us, but two police vehicles suddenly pulled between us and the pursuing paparazzi. That caused instant chaos! Two t-boned the squad cars, three took spills and some managed not to have that happen. Did it stop them? Hell, no! It did allow some more distance between us.

“I hope no one was seriously hurt in that.” I pointed at the wreckage.

Mikell chuckled. “The Greek Government was watching us today.”

“They were?” Peter asked.

Mikell nodded pointing to towers we passed with those camcorders on them. “They have all day.”

“I LOVE GREECE!!” I said happily. We were planning another day here, but I knew we'd come back as often as we could.

We visited two more sites, but the excitement didn't return. We walked a lot. It was tiring going up and down the hills.

Finally we decided to call it a night and see what life was like here in Athens. Corfu had clubs. Many for dancing. But none targeting gay men specifically. Athens did.

I sat at the computer in the living area. I chuckled reading about one.

Peter came in with a drink in his had for me and drinking another himself. “Something amusing?”

I nodded. “I'll say.” I waved at the monitor. “You know all gay men aren't the same.”

“Sure.” Peter nodded.

“This is the Big Bar.” I said laughing.

“The Big Bar?” Peter asked. “Why? Is it?”

I shook my head. “No, they want their clientele to be big or be attracted to big.” I switched to English. “Bears!” I raised a hand like a claw ready to strike downward and roared a little. “Vedmidʹ.” I said in Makarovian. Not much effort was put into the roar for me. “Tall, stands on hind legs and covered with fur?”

Peter set my drink down and rolled his eyes. “I got that.” He sat beside me. “Isn't that what attracted you to me?”

I gave a hesitant, grudging nod. “Weeeeell.” I reached out touching his shirt covered hairy chest. “For me,” I pressed his hand to my chest. “You are still too young.” His face to me he was about to protest. Putting my finger over his mouth stopped him. “I said for me.” I pulled his shirt away from his chest to see. “Very nice.”

Peter gave a shrug. “I always aim to please.”

“You will be a bear.” I said firmly, “In six or seven years. You'll be in your mid-thirties. You'll be twenty-seven in August. You'll be at the age of final growth.”

“Yep,” Peter nodded. “My brain will be completed. No more lack of impulse control or impatience...”

“That doesn't mean we give up on spontaneity.” I warned.

“What!?” He suddenly shook his head adamantly. “Hell, no!”

“It could have happened with you.” I observed.

“What almost happened?” Peter asked confused.

“The whole Pederasty thing.” I said. “It wasn't a crime. Considering the age of the boy it would be now...”

“And that's a crime.”

I nodded. “And I agree with you. We've all met them, the mature guy at sixteen versus the immature twenty. We gave a number to guide by. Some countries are twenty-one, eighteen, or seventeen. Fourteen in one! I've never wanted that. I may like what I understand he will have in the future, but he needs to season a bit more.” I kissed him. “You're coming along just fine.”

“Big and hairy?” Peter pointed to a photo of a man who was just that. Laughing with his dance partner.

“I know there will be exceptions.” I said. “Cruel exceptions. People are famous for that. The whole psychology is different here. Young men were encouraged to let someone do that. There was no shame. Gay or straight didn't matter. The parents of the young man was included in the negotiations. Their son would be mentored by a older and wiser man. I'm sure if the young man didn't want to, he'd be left alone. There would be other young men that would agree.” I smiled at Peter. “Look at the lifespan of these men. Health care existed on a basic level. Men and women reached their forties...maybe. Fifteen to twenty years was practically middle age, they married by then!”

Peter chuckled. “You want to go.”
“If you agree.” I said quickly.

“Okay.”

We did spend the remaining hours of daylight on the deck. When I had looked down Peter's shirt I noticed the beginnings of a farmer's tan. You know, darker skin on your arms, head and neck than on your chest. Not a big deal. Easy fix.

We were ready for Henri. Eager. I knew he never froze anything and went to the ports' fishmongers daily. He got what could keep alive until ready to cook. He came in with his typical happy demeanor and smile. Pushing the cart he placed in front of us a bowl of steaming liquid. The sweet smell tickled my nose.

“Escargot A La Bourgeoisie.” Henri stated.

“Snail stew?” Peter asked grinning.

Henri rolled his eyes. “That is so...” He thought of the right word.

“Crude?” I offered.

“Exactement.” Henri claimed. “It makes my creation sound cheap.”

I chuckled. “Brute or brut, that's crude in French. I took French one year. I could never get those masculine and feminine things.”

“Am I right?” Peter insisted.

“You're not inaccurate.” I leaned closer and said to Peter.

Henri huffed a little.

“We better not offend him.” Peter smiled. “He still has the main course and a few more days to go.”

Chuckling, I smiled at Henri who seemed to enjoy our banter and gave it back. “Grandpa told me to cozy up to two people in your life and you'll be fine. The guy responsible your meals and the guy responsible for your paycheck. I think I did pretty well with paycheck with Olek.” I looked at Henri's smirk. “How are things with you?”

Henri's eyes crinkled in the corners, but he uncovered. Fish! I half-expected to see more lobster. I couldn't think of a day yet we weren't served that. Those round disks were recognized by me. Scallops. In restaurants they learned to make a few look like a lot with the presentation. Here, Henri just piled it on our plates.

“This is a quickly seared in olive oil with grape tomatoes and bell peppers.” Henri informed us. “I wondered if you tired of lobster.”

Peter shook his head and I added. “We promised to let you know.”

Like everything else Henri made. It was delicious.

I promise, he never bored us with what he served. That couldn't be possible. This time grilled. It didn't take but fifteen minutes to cook. The Escargot Bourgeois took longer. He wasn't idle when he wasn't cooking for us. He kept the entire ship fed. Our bodyguards included. There was whole other ship below. Crew quarters, dining room and communal room. Don't forget the engine room and laundry. No square inch of floor space was left untouched. I could imagine things in those close quarters. It was tight, but manageable.

When Peter and I came down, they were playing cards. Two were our guards and two ship's crewmen. Mercea picked up the card discarded, put them with the others and grinned. “Gin!”

Mikell threw his down in frustration. “That's three in a row, drativnyk.”

One of the Duchess' crewman, a machinist looked up, saw us and stood instantly. The others did,too.

I waved to them to sit down again. “This isn't a surprise inspection. Relax.”

Earl. There's always an Earl. He was American! I know, every one above the Mexican Border were Americans, even in Canada. He was from Michigan. “What did Mikell just call Mercea?”

“That would be pipsqueak.” I said.

Earl held his hand up to Mercea shaking his head. “He's no pipsqueak.” He moved his hand from over Mercea's head to his own head showing the dramatic difference. Earl wasn't short, about my height. Mercea was six feet and a few inches. He was big. Perfect for the Big Bar. He gave no tells. Who knew if he preferred male or female? Both? If you wanted a date, you asked.

And Henri! There were times he gave off vibes he could be. Frankly, who cares? They were nice, courteous people and worked very hard. We are all sexual beings. Hardwired for it. They both looked happy, so I assumed the need was being met.

“It's Friday night.” Peter informed them. “People working nine to five jobs are off usually have Friday night and Saturday night off. It will be more crowded.”

“If you feel safe, we'd like to stay.” I looked at Mikell. “We'll find something else if you don't.”

Peter pointed at me and stage whispered. “He want's to score here.”

I turned back to Peter. “That's never even remotely possible!” I balled a fist and punched him lightly in the gut.

“You take that back.” I insisted.

“Okay, okay,” Peter laughing as he put his hands on his midsection to ward off and further attacks. “I take it back. I take it back!!”

I knew what he was doing. I heard him nod and said “not really” with his mouth.

They had protocols for everything. One of those protocols was to listen to Peter and me. “Next time you play Gin Rummy or anything else, there's a vast space above us going to waste...”

Mikell was starting to object. How it was our honeymoon and he didn't want to intrude...

“Can it, Mike.”

Mikell looked confused. “Can, it?”

Earl nodded with a smile. “As in put what you said in a can and throw it away.” He put something invisible in the invisible can and tossed it over his shoulder.

“Right.” I said to Earl. “What you said was garbage. Play up there. Invite us. We might like a game or two.”

Mikell grinned and bowed to me. “Yes. Your Highness.”

“Mike.” I said a little testily. “Don't start with me.”

There were three places that were to attract the gay male. The other two I dismissed after seeing photos. Solodade2. I didn't know the first Solodade. They didn't have a website. They had a stage for performances. ATTRAXX Cruising was the other. It was for doing what the name said. Cruise. Movies and all things porn was offered here. For a price. I can say I've seen more than my share of porn. It's what men do to record porn in the United States. Prostitutes and drug addicts for their next fix. It was legal here. Institutionalized even. No sleazy pimp pocketing the money earned.

There were state owned and run brothels. Strict rules were made and enforced and blood tests were done regularly. I brought that up because, ATTRAXX Cruising had stages in booths so a guy can get more comfortably stand when he...did or got something. Sex!!

The other great thing was the location of the Big Bar. Nightclubs were loud. Being in a residential area only leads to hostility. The Big Bar was in a warehouse area. People would bring imports to be held here. It's business.

We walked and were still a block away but we could hear the bass, like always it made my pulse seem to adjust to the rhythm played. Even with the noise level where it was, the sound of male voices could be heard as heard laughing or said something emphatically. There were perhaps a dozen guys speaking to friends, old friends or new friends were comfortable with each other. Taking a smoke break or just to the guy that had their attention right now.

A man looked up at us. He was what the Bar was called. Big! A bit heavy in his early forties. The Greek black hair and his shirt open to his naval showed he was a Bear. The black haired chest looked powerful. He had a full beard that probably was grown when a teenager. It lay smoothly on his chin from years of brushing. Beards made me itch if it went beyond three days. You grew it to look more mature when younger and shaven when older to look more youthful. He grabbed one of the men and said something to him. That man nodded and raced inside. The man smiled waving at us slightly. “I am assuming English.”

Peter chuckled. “Yes. Doesn't everyone speak that?”

The man took a few steps forward, but stopped as Mikell and the others prevented more. “I am Constandinos. Pano Constandinos. I own Big.” He waved at his club.

“Of course, you do.” I chuckled. “And you certainly are.”

Now guys were coming out to see for themselves if it were true.

“I wasn't sure at first, but when you came into the streetlight, I knew. Who else would be escorted by the Men in Black?” He chuckled

I looked back at them quickly. “I never thought of that movie with them, but your right. They even wear the dark glasses!”

Peter looked, too. Surprised. “So did I.”

“Can we come in, Mr. Constandinos?” I asked. “Is it too crowded?”

“Pano, please?” Pano gave a shrug and nod. “It's Friday night. It will be in an hour or two.”

Mikell stepped up. “If I may, Your Highness,” he began. “I will go in and see where the best place to sit or stand is.” He did a head motion toward Mercea. They went in.

“What do you think of Greece, Your Highness?”

“I love Greece!” I stated happily. “Next time,” I held my finger up saying firmly. “And there will many next times. We stay here in Greece.”

“We can stay the rest of the time in Athens.” Peter said simply.

I agreed. “We'll be in other parts of Greece, then finally, Malta.” I squinted a little because of the light glare and other things. Mikell and Mercea walked back over. I held my hand out to Mercea. “Can I I borrow you eyes a second?”

Mercea didn't hesitate to take his off, but didn't know why. I put them on as I shook my head. “These are truly amazing.” I said marveling. “No glare or hazy spots, just clear unobstructed vision!” I looked at Peter. I gently touched his face. “We should get a pair...each.” I looked at Pano. “Yep, it is you.” I waved at the writing over the door. “That guy on the sketch! The Home Page. It's you.”

Pano chuckled with a nod. “Yes, it's me.” He admitted hesitantly. “I refused a photo of me. That was fifteen years ago?” He asked his friend who nodded,. He scratched his ear. “I literally am Big.”

I gave Mercea his glasses back. “If I put my order in,” I said to Mikell. "Can I get a pair?”

Mikell chuckled. “I think that will be very possible.” He looked at Mercea. “Give your report.”

Mercea remembered why he and Mikell had come to us. “Sorry.” You could really see his mind working as he organized his thoughts. “We have a place for you to be out of the way, but close enough to...whatever. You will see the emergency egress if needed.”

At first I was surprised at what Mikell had Mercea do. Now I understood more. Mercea was learning to do the job while doing the job.

Mikell's tone was never angry or impatient. He was the perfect teacher.

Peter walked closer to Pano, who, even as as tall as Peter was, Pano was a few inches taller. Peter waved at Pano up and down. “How big are you?” He stuck his hand out to Pano.

Pano chuckled as he shook hands with Peter. “Two hundred and three centimeters”

That made him six feet and eight inches tall!! As I said, he was BIG!!! I shuddered thinking what he weighed. “Welcome to Big.”