Made in Heaven - 10. I don't wanna die

"Coco, come here sweetie, it's breakfast time", Christian heard Maxim calling. He heard him roaming the rooms in search of his cat. He snuggled deeper into the pillows and took the manuscript of Tim's novel. He had made it to the final story and the title had made him so curious that he couldn't stop once he had started.

Maxim's calls became lower. He must had been in the living room or kitchen. At least the stupid cat didn't lay in wait and watched when they were having sex, he thought. It always was as if he would understood what they were doing. Satisfied he slid a little higher and started to read on.

Killing me softly

Sascha bent down to pick up the yellow roses lying on the doormat. He picked them up with a queasy feeling not because of the thorns, but because of their meaning. He placed them with the other roses in all shades of colours that were spread all over the flat.

"Another one?" Denis asked tired. "Why don't you give them to the woman next door. Or throw them away."

"It's not the rose's fault. He knows I love roses."

"Yeah and there's another bunch of them each day." Denis sounded more angry than he was. He stood up and took Sascha into his arms. "What have you done? First the roses, then the calls by night. He's laying in wait for you wherever we go. Watching us."

"I know", Sascha said indistinctly. "Let us go on holiday, what do you think? Say yes."

"It's not possible without a word of warning. I'll try."

Sascha couldn't sleep. He left Denis sleeping by his side and tiptoed into the kitchen, sat at the table and smelled the rose's scent. There had been a time when the bringer of the flowers - Carsten - had treated him like empty air. Well, there was no more than a friendly chat from colleague to colleague. And why should Carsten go beyond a chat; Sascha was much too unimportant to rouse Carsten's interest.

Sascha watched how he was picked up by a new men each week. He flirted openly with customers, sometimes with success, sometimes he earned abusive words he laughed about. He was a symbol of a gay-macho and Sascha adored him. Despite all sensible reasons he wanted to be included in Carsten's notebook, in the long row of lover's and ex-lovers. But apparently he wasn't his type of man.

Both worked at the same place, a bookshop, large enough to meet only in the canteen or when one of them were changing the departments that were spread over three floors, not to mention the department of classical music in the basement; the biggest in the whole of Germany. Sascha organised music performances and looked after the import of sheets of music, musical notations, text books, merchandising of all kinds of classical composers and performers. Carsten never lost his way down here, but sometimes Sascha strolled through the children's book-department to see Carsten at his work."

Christian's stopped reading. Suddenly he felt suspicion. Bookshop? One of them was in love with his colleague? Was this the very personal story where Tim worked in his own feelings? And who was the one he was in love with then? Maxim? How come Maxim hadn't noticed the coincidences between fiction and reality?

"Everything seemed to be gloomy for Sascha. The more often he saw Carsten - and he made sure that their ways crossed more and more - so his idolisation grew. He had to be blind for love, Sascha thought, remembering the situation. But how blind can a man be? And what's love anyway? You can't name a crush love; a certain affection to a body he wanted to be his own. To take the price whatever it should be. But before that all he would have had possessed Carsten and what would had come afterwards Sascha didn't care for.

Carsten couldn't have been so blind not to see the looks Sascha was throwing at him, not the "accidental" meetings and all. But Carsten just continued to give him uninterested looks. Then the most amazing thing happened on one Saturday evening, shortly before closing time at 10 in the evening.

A blue cloud filled with twinkling dust welled up from under the cover of the first of the Harry Potter books and Sascha's eyes grew large. Sure, he thought, Professor Snape - the specialist for magic potions - had an accident in his dungeon he used as working place, Sascha thought amused and shook his head. He was having hallucinations. But then the book opened and enveloped Sascha in a blue haze.

"Don't tell me. I know what you want to wish", a voice chirped and a small figure emerged from the haze. She looked at Carsten who was sorting books in a shelf, looking occasionally at him, giving him a friendly smile from one colleague to the other. "You wish he would be yours, right?"

"Right. For ever. He shall love me for always and forever." Sascha didn't even wonder about the absurdity of this situation, talking to a fairy-tale character. Strangely Carsten didn't seem to see anything of it; nor did he notice that Sascha spoke nor who it was to whom he spoke.

"But what's this about? Are you one of the fairies granting wishes to celebrate the new born prince of a fairy kingdom?" Sascha still chuckled.

"Almost right." She turned around herself, blinking at Carsten who started to gather his stuff to leave the bookshop. By this time she spread more of her blue haze into the nearer surrounding. "It's impossible", she said then, "your wish is dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Sascha was disappointed. "I thought you would grant each wish, no matter what."

But she shook her head. Sascha seemed undecided. Perhaps she was acting without permission. "I have to warn you urgently. It's a dangerous wish. You don't know this … indisputably handsome young man. You can't spoil his way of life by wishing something that would affect him too much."

Suddenly her green-golden eyes were too close to his own. They filled space and room and Sascha felt something tugging at his mind. "Think with your brain, not with that what you have between your legs. Wish for yourself. Only for yourself."

"Well, I do it for myself, don't I? I want him. He must be finished with all the guys he's changing like his socks. I AM his boyfriend and he will never ask for anybody else. Isn't it fair? I'll make him happy."

The tiny person sighed and looked up at him in a very speculative way. "Alright. Since you're the last I'll grant this wish. But I'll leave you the option to revoke. You have one year."

"But how will I find you again?"

"Next year, same time, same place." And with that she disappeared with a blue swirl into the open book cover that banged shut and Sascha panted a long breath of fresh air.

Instantly Carsten was at his side, clapping his back with his palm. "Have you swallowed something the wrong way?" he asked concerned.

Sascha's heartbeat quickened. Was this the start? Had he stirred interest already?

"Shall I bring you a glass of water?"

"Huh?" Sascha stared at him with disbelief. Five minutes ago Carsten was ready to go without a word and now he acted like Florence Nightingale herself. "Well, no ... thanks." He waved off. "That's very nice of you though."

Carsten's blue eyes pierced him with affection. As if they had never looked differently at him. "Good", he said. "Then we can go and have a late lunch, what do you think?"

Sascha blinked. It had worked! he cheered inwardly. A broad smile enchanted his face.

Carsten guided him to "Adam's", a newly opened restaurant nearby which served heavenly tasting menus and all at decent prices. Even Sascha could afford it and Carsten's company was only adding to his comfort."

"Chris! Chris, come up, quick!"

Huh? Christian emerged to reality again, tossed the manuscript aside and jumped out of the bed. Hurriedly he slid into his jeans and ran into the living room. He still heard Maxim calling but didn't know where he was. The calls seemed to come from the roof. He scrambled up the stair case and was blinded by the flooding sun light. He squinted his eyes before he could make out Maxim crouched on the ground, stroking something that looked like a white spot of milk, spilled on the ground.

"It's Coco. He's sick. Look at this."

Christian came closer and bent down. Coco lay at his side amid a puddle of green vomit, all four legs spread out and panted flatly and very low. "He's alive," he said unnecessarily.

"Yeah, but for how long. Please, where's the nearest doc? Can you call somebody?"

"I don't know any vet personally." Christian pondered quickly. "Wait, there's a vet near by, but it's Sunday!"

"Then go and search the telephone book, damn." Maxim sounded hysterical. "He must have eaten the plants here. They are poison for animals. Jesus Christ, who left the door up here open?"

But Christian had left already the roof and looked up the book for the central station for poisoning. They would know advice even if it was for animals.

Maxim meanwhile cursed his idea to sat up those plants although he knew they were poisoned. But Coco was always so clever, how could he have foreseen that he would chew on them? He stroked Coco's soft fur. He had his eyes closed and his little body was shaken from time to time with cramp. He brought up more of the green slimy stuff.

"Take him down", he heard Christian calling. "We'll bring him to the clinic."

Coco got his little stomach pumped out and they had to leave him there for the night, to watch his circulation. Maxim was more than relieved although the doc had said it was no minute too soon when they had brought him.

"I told you to make sure the door was shut," Maxim said angrily when they returned in the car.

"So it was me, yes? Whose cat is it? If you're so fond of him then it's your job to examine all doors. You haven't missed him the whole night and don't say it's my fault because I had occupied you with more important things."

"More important things?" Maxim called out.

"You don't want to tell me that a cat is more important than me." Christian snapped back.

Maxim glared at him. "You hate him. You hated him the first time you saw him. And I believe the feeling's mutual."

Christian rolled his eyes and stopped at a traffic light. "Maxim! Stop making me cross. Yeah, sure I forgot to check the doors. But you did as well. And who bought all the plants actually? I thought you're an expert in plants, so you must have known that they're poison for cats."

Maxim said nothing anymore. He chewed on his underlip. What was Chris saying? That it was him or the cat? Stupid.

"Well, he survived," Christian said in a conciliatory tone. "We will check the doors always from now on, ok? Or you remove the plants. Although they look great."

Maxim mumbled something.

"Hey", Christian squeezed Maxim's upper thigh, "let's not argue about a cat. Alright?"

"It's not A CAT. It's Coco. I wouldn't know what I would do if he had died."

"You still had me to cuddle with."

"You don't want to understand me."

Christian decided it was better to be silent here. Of course he didn't understand the fuss about the cat. Sure it would had been a pity if he had died. On the other hand.... Coco occupied too much of Maxim's heart.

"Let's go and find something for breakfast, what do you think. Digest the shock."

"I can't eat right now."

"Then watch me eating. I'm starving."

Maxim raised an eyebrow but gave in.

When they returned home the wide open place of the Sony Centre was filling with painted, flagged, euphoric people, ready to watch the final match of the Football Championships, and they were running right into the arms of Nadine and Tom. "There you are!" she shouted. "Then I can ring for dear life and you won't open."

She had painted her cheeks with black-red-golden rectangles and Tom was wrapped in a flag. "We have enough provisions for extended time and penalty-shooting", she grinned, pointing to her rucksack.

"It's golden goal, no penalty shooting", Tom rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Are you both coming?" She looked from Maxim to Christian; forth and back. Her smile fainted. "What's wrong?" Maxim shook himself awake. "Sure I'm coming", he said. "Do you?"

Christian looked amazed at him. "I thought you and me would make a trip outside to recover."

"And I told you I'd like to watch the match."

More people streamed into the centre and the four of them were pushed. Christian's ears hurt from blown trumpets and signalling whistles. "Well, do what you want", he said. "I'm off with the motorbike." Without looking back he went on until he had vanished through the front door to his apartment.

Nadine and Tom looked surprised at Maxim. "Had you an argument?"

"Not really." Maxim pulled them with him to find good seats in front of the video canvas. Samba-groups boomed up to the tent-roof. Some girls with milk-coffee brown skin presented more of it than Maxim wanted to see; shaking their almost uncovered asses, and Maxim regretted that he hadn't followed Christian.

"Coco has poisoned himself", he said when they had managed to get hold of a place at one of the long benches. "We had to leave him in the animal clinic."

Nadine and Tom looked dismayed. "How could this happen?"

"He chewed at the plants upon the roof terrace. We've left open the door. Shit, I was buying them! I must have been mad. Back at home I hadn't any poisoned plants. The devil must had told me."

Nadine put his hand over Maxim's. "Stop cursing yourself. You can't exclude each eventuality. Well, only in not buying poison-plants... he will survive, yes?"

The match started and the noise grew louder. "I think Chris doesn't care what happened to Coco. He never liked him."

Tom inspected him. "Perhaps he's jealous."

"Jealous on a cat? What's there to be jealous?"

"Well, I was told when I was born my parents had to remove the cat because she started to scratch me. She certainly was jealous not to be the centre of my parent's life anymore. I suppose it's mutual feeling, is it?"

Maxim nodded. "Yeah, Coco can't stand him. He never sleeps close to me anymore." His naÔve outburst amused Tom and he exchanged a look with Nadine. "That's when thereís one lover too much", he joked. "You think it's him or the cat?"

"No, this is laughable. They have to arrange."

"And court your love", Nadine added.

"Perhaps." Maxim stared at the big canvas, not seeing anything. Chris had gone alone with his motorbike. Without him. While he had hardly made a step without Maxim since he had moved in with him.

All three watched silently for a while the enthusiastic people and the action on the canvas took place in far Japan. Finally they got carried away until the German goal keeper made his one and only mistake in the tournament, left through a ball and Germany lost. The disappointment was tangible while the Brazilian girls swung their butts and large flags were unrolled.

Tom ruffled his hair for despair and shook his head. "What a pity". But it didn't take long until the fans started to shout the name of the trainer, the goal keeper and their country in general and fraternized with the fans of Brazil. Tom ordered three beers and washed away the disappointment.

"Now, honey," Nadine said, "I think you've a problem."

Maxim squinted at Tom, then he decided that he was trustworthy. "Actually it's just about the cat."

Nadine leaned over. She licked away the small rim of beer-foam on her upper lip. "It's not just the cat, honey. I've watched you both. That's not the Maxim Sageroff I used to know. Where's the witty, sharp-analysing young man of yours? Where's the independent, 'I-do-my-own-thing'-guy? Where's the conqueror of all the pretty boys, eh?" She leaned back. "This was your first bad choice."

Maxim's cheeks started to glow. "How can you say this? You don't know Chris."

"She's not in love with him", Tom said laconic.

"Huh?"

"I mean she can see him clearer. Without looking through pink glasses."

Nadine beamed at Tom for saying the right thing.

"Ah, you both have made allies against me, yes?" Maxim said aggressive. Actually he was amused about their concern. After all the argument was just about Coco and should be forgotten very soon. What did they know about Christian? Nothing. They didn't know about his care, about his tenderness, about his passion and his romantic soul. His little jealousy should be forgiven.

Nadine saw the glistening in his eyes. The white in his eyes stuck out and made his pupils so very black. His skin had become so dark meanwhile that even Tom was pale compared to him. Too bad he was gay. But - she turned her head to Tom - good to know that Thomas stood the comparison in general. She grinned at Maxim. "Whenever you've trouble, you know where my ear is."

Maxim didn’t know how to fill the sparse time. He called the animal clinic to learn that Coco was well and ready to be picked up tomorrow. The day was still young when Tom and Nadine had left him. He didn’t want to go with them and be the fifth wheel. It was warm and it was one of the rare days in Berlin when the sky was deep blue and carried a wind from the East. Cooling, fresh air and Maxim breathed. Soon it was his birthday. At home it had been a grand feast and here at his new homeland it shouldn't be different. Christian would meet his parents, babushka and all the friends from Russia and Germany for his parents worked for the association "Harmonie", a society founded for Russian emigrants where they could find help with bureaucracy and language. He wasn't sure if Christian was interested in that, but anyhow.

He should had gone with him he thought melancholic, sitting in a deckchair upon the roof and let the sun heating his naked body. He missed his cat. He missed Chris. What was he doing right now?

The shadows had become longer and sharper when he had woken up and noticed his growling stomach. He ran downstairs into the living room, sure that Chris had turned up meanwhile, but the apartment was empty. Disappointed he made himself a sandwich and sat at the piano. He lifted the lid and hit some keys. What a present. Unnecessary in addition. Surely it was nice to have it to play with whenever he liked to play with. But he could do without that very well. He had his whole life so far. Then something struck his mind. What if Chris gave him the piano to keep him home? Hadn’t he seen the pulled eyebrows when he mentioned that he wanted to play in the bar now more often again? Didn't he want to keep him from that? Hadn't he asked where he would stay then? That he wanted Maxim for his own?

Christian was a man who didn't share. This so far he had figured out. With emphasis he closed the lid over the keys and strolled through the flat. When he needed to think he couldn't sit down. Arrived in the bed room he saw Tim’s novel laying on Chris' nightstand. He sat upon the bed and took it up. The bookmark stuck at Tim's last story Killing me softly. Surely Maxim had read it and had shook his head about Sascha's stupid wish to make a man falling in love with himself. What if Sascha's love would die one day and he couldn't get rid off the love of the other man?

Maxim shuddered. It was as if a goose had walked over his future grave. Quickly his eyes found the painted eyes of Mother Mary. He had hung the icon next to his bed. Tim's stories had the habit not to have a happy ending and so did this story. Maxim must be blind not to see the coincidences to Tim's real life. The protagonist - Sascha - worked in a bookshop and was in love with his colleague. What would happen if the fairy godmother would Tim grant a wish? What would he wish for? That he - Maxim - would fall in love with Tim? He wouldn't be able to stop this and would cling for a lifetime to Tim if he wanted or not. The godmother was right. It would be a dangerous wish.

He shuddered once more. What if Chris had seen the similarities too? When he started to mistrust Tim? Had been his questions last night about this?

The sun sunk and Christian hadn't returned home. Maxim had called the clinic again. Coco was sleeping and still ok. At least this problem was going to be solved.

He strolled through the flat, examining Christian's working room, the bookshelves, found more of those odd little poems telling him about departure and death, until he found an old photograph.

It showed a family gathered in a sun flooded garden. In the background he could make out a house, in front of them were posing a stiff looking pair and to their feet crouched boy twins, smiling broadly into the camera. Identical faces, light blond hair that curled over their foreheads, bodies in shorts and sandals. Martin and Christian.

Maxim turned the photo. "Summer 1982". Twenty years ago. The twins must have been eight then. He looked at the woman, a large, thin woman with a long, serious face and melancholic, grey eyes. Her husband beside her held a significant space and didn’t touch her. He had a prominent face full of character and a firm body. Christian and Martin were the perfect blend of both.

Maxim sat into Coco's favourite armchair and stared at the photo. The woman was dead. Drowned in a lake. Voluntarily. What made her so desperate that she wanted to end her life and leave her little boys? What secret hid this family that Chris didn't want to unveil? Was it so painful? And what about Martin? Had he the same hurt? Would Philipp know the true story?

Maxim remembered his plea for the job at the bookshop and Maxim certainly wanted him there. He would give a good word for Phil tomorrow and then he had much time to talk with him about that.

His eyes became heavy. The day in the sun had made him tired.

He woke up again by a strong arm lifting him from the armchair, carrying him into the bedroom. His lids opened and looked into Christian’s gentle face. "Hello, sweetie", he murmured. "You've fallen asleep." He lay him down and took off his shoes, then he opened the zipper of Maxim’s jeans and pulled them down. With the same tenderness he pulled the T-shirt over his head and crawled next to him.

Maxim felt the weight of his body on his own. "Where have you been?" he asked tired.

"Shsht, don't talk." Christian's lips wandered over Maxim’s forehead, his eyes, the nose and kissed the corner of his mouth. His hand started an exploration when Christian crouched above him, looked into his eyes and then Maxim's mind started to reel. He was much too busy to cope with that what Christian's hands were doing with him. He closed his eyes, gave a small sigh and felt his semen flooding over Christian's tongue.

His face appeared again. He kissed Maxim passionately. "I'm sorry about Coco; sorry about everything. I won't leave you alone again, promise."

Maxim cuddled to his side, tired and satisfied. His hand slid down over Christian's hips, to his abdomen to the hard erection. He started to stroke it slowly and lazily. "Where have you been? I missed you."

"I... I was driving. Nothing more." His breath became laboured. Maxim’s fingers tickled his balls and his short nails scraped softly along the shaft, before his hand embraced it, released it again and started the game once more. Christian's eyes were shaded with lust though his face was relaxed. He lay there like a big, golden cat being petted and spoilt.

"Where have you been driving to?" Maxim let lose of Christian’s penis but instead embraced his body and pulled him close to his side.

"Don't stop... please?" Maxim felt his breath at his ear. "I was everywhere... and nowhere. I can't remember. Don't stop." He brought space between their bodies. Maxim felt distinctly Christian's penis rubbing at his own belly, craving for release.

In the middle of the night Christian stood up and covered the sleeping Maxim carefully. Naked as he was he tiptoed into the living room to pick up what had been forgotten. A minute later he stared at the old family- photograph and sunk into Coco’s favourite armchair. The red leather was cold, but he didn't realize. His mother. His father. The twins. A happy family. Christian let out a sound similar to a little animal. His father stood there like a self-controlled general, ruling the family, but the boys' breezy laughing faces told him it must have been a happy childhood. Was it?

His look swung back to his mother's face. It wasn't about if he had had a happy childhood. It was about if his mother had let a happy marriage.

When he had been seven he would had answered with yes. With eight he wasn’t so sure anymore. In his head an avalanche rolled on, full of rash and hasty memories. He glared into his mother's face: the longish, stern face, that somehow absorbed each motion. His beloved mother...

Christian's head rolled against the back, and he stared at the ceiling. His body became cold while he tried to master the tidal wave of pictures. His brain showed him photographs; black and white-pictures with blood- red-coloured spots standing out. A hotchpotch of open tablet's tubes upon the living room's table. Beside them an empty Whisky bottle. Cold water, splashing into his face. Christian’s body jerked with the same rhythm as the neighbour kicked the entrance door to their house. The sweetish-stinging smell of streaming gas. Martin’s pale children's face, bent over him with wide tore, catatonic eyes.

Christian cried when he felt a touch at his shoulder. He blinked confused before he realized it was Maxim's dark eyes, and his name that was called.

"You're cold as ice!" He pulled Christian from the seat and took him into his arms. Maxim's naked body warmth was so soothing and so comforting. Christian clung to him.

"Come into bed."

Maxim covered him before he lay beside him and pulled Christian tightly to his side. "What have you done there in the armchair? You've cried out. It didn't sound like a cry for lust."

"No." The tidal wave of pictures faded in the same speed as they had come.

"Has it anything to do with the photo?"

Christian didn't answer. His hands were painful cramped and his face somehow grey.

"Yes. No", he said finally. He tried hard to keep his eyes open, but Maxim had the feeling he didn't see him. Chris was far away. And still cold.

"Christian. If I shall help you, then you have to tell me your family- secret." He tried an accentuated light-hearted tone. It couldn't be that worse, could it.

"I just thought about our father." Christian’s voice was brittle. Maxim tried to warm him. He took Chris' cramped hands from his shoulders, opened them and started to massage them with circular movements. "What's so bad with your father? Apart from he despises you because you're gay. I thought rather it's because of your mother."

The avalanche approached again. Christian pulled back his hands and turned off. Why was it possible that such an old photo could put out him that much? He couldn't understand.

He sat upon the edge of the bed and let hung his head. "I don't want it", he whispered. "I don't want anything of that." Abruptly he turned to Maxim. "What had you to do between my stuff anyway?" he said sharply. "Everything's your fault!"

Maxim was distraught before indignation won upper hand. "What are you telling me here? If you have secrets then hide them so well that I won't be able to find them! Why don't you just split up your flat into divisions I shan't enter!? He saw Christian's back stiffening and regretted his harsh tone. He threw himself across the bed and slid his hands over Christian's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Chris", he whispered. "It's because you don’t tell me anything."

Christian shook off his hands. "Do you love me?" he asked, turning back. Maxim sat amidst the bed covers, naked, the skin gold dusted by the light of the nightstand’s lamp, the face in shadows, hiding his eyes. His almond eyes Christian fell in love with a long time ago; the black hair, soft as Coco's fur, the curved breast and the firm stomach and belly below. But Maxim hesitated with his answer. Too long for Christian.

"You love ME?" Maxim retorted then. "It's too early for me. Love's something that has to grow."

But Christian shook vehemently his head. "No. Love's always there." He outstretched his arm and Maxim took his hand. "Love's always here. Can't you feel it?"

Maxim watched him. Surely he felt the vibrations, the crackling erotic, connecting him with Chris. But love? Was that, that Maxim had felt for Chris when he wishfully had envied him and Philipp been love? And now, that he had all what he had dreamt for, he couldn't give affirmation to Chris question. All what he saw was a trembling Christian, who was desperate to get the right and suiting answer.

"Why didn't you want to sleep with me?" Maxim asked instead of. "Have you tried to make me so crazy for you until I would begged you on my knees?" 'In order to hear Philipp’s name then when you came' he added in his mind.

"No, of course not. You must believe me", Christian assured him. "I just wasn't ready. It hadn't anything to do with you."

"And within those few months you realized that you love me?"

Christian nodded. Maxim didn't believe that everything was so easy. But on the other hand, love was simple. It was nothing that you could influence, force nor deny. IF you know when affection turned into love. Maxim wasn't sure about that. Despite everything there was still the thin voice within his mind giving warnings.

Christian's grip tightened around Maxim's wrist. With a jump he flung himself upon Maxim's body and buried Maxim under his own. "I love you, Maxim. I love you." His kisses met Maxim's nose, cheeks, ear, neck, collarbone. "Tomorrow morning I'll pick up Coco."

"I want to go with you." Maxim realized suddenly that he wasn't not the slightest bit wiser about what had happened with Chris; there in the armchair.

"Don't leave me, promise me." Christian had lifted his head. In his eyes gleamed a light spot caused by the lamp. His face was calm again, though Maxim seemed to note a bitter line around his mouth. "I told you I'll go with you", he said, aware that this was not the right answer to Christian's question. He reached up and stroked back Christian's hair, revealing the jagged scar at his hairline.

"For ever?" Christian asked.

Maxim struggled. Although he always enjoyed Chris' bodyweight... tonight he had something suffocating. He managed to push him onto his back and bent over him.

"I can't live without you," Christian whispered.

Maxim blinked. He had heard those words before. No, he had read them before. In Tim's last story.

"What happened to your mother?" he asked suddenly. His voice sounded clear and determined.

"She's drowned in a lake", Chris answered automatically.

"Yeah, I know. But why? It wasn’t a swimming accident. She has killed herself. Why?"

Christian closed his eyes and turned off his head. The hands, stroking Maxim's back, fell aside and he lay motionless. And very silent.

"Christian, I know it's probably painful to talk about it. But it wasn't your fault why she died. She was the one leaving you alone."

Christian looked at him. This time his eyes glistened with anger. And with tears. Maxim didn't notice; he was absorbed in his theory. "The old photo - it’s from 1982. Was it her last summer? What had happened there?"

"What if I'm guilty for her death?"

"You? Why's that?" Maxim's heartbeat quickened. "You certainly didn't drown her, did you?" It should sound funny, but Maxim's voice betrayed him. What was this family secret? What would Philipp know? The truth?

"Leave it, Maxim. I can't talk about it. I've never talked to anybody about this very special thing." He lay his palm over his eyes. "My father's a swine. He has killed her."

"In doing what? You said they had argued a lot."

"Other women of course." Suddenly he took Maxim's upper arms and dug his fingers into the flesh. "I don't want to lose you, Maxim. I always lose somebody. All the people I love."

Maxim's stomach was on fire. It was as if something would squeeze the air from his lungs. This was the reason. Christian suffered from being afraid for losses. He didn't ask further. If he had, he would had to ask himself if it was always the others who were to blame, or if it was rather Christian's own fault that he ended up alone.

Maxim didn't ask this night. He lowered his head and touched Christian's lips with his own. His fingers found the button of the stereo and a low, pulsating music filled the bedroom. Pulsating basses like his heartbeat, deep and sexy, and Maxim swore in the end he would never leave him alone. Never ever.

Although he must have known that those oaths made short before an orgasm were doomed to be forgotten as soon as ecstasy fainted.

In the morning Christian was up long before Maxim. When an appetizing smell for fried eggs, buttered toast and fresh coffee floated through the apartment, Maxim opened his eyes and sniffed. To sit upright at the edge of the bed wasn't a good idea for his anus hurt too much for that. Maxim grinned 'like Chris's must hurt'. He let out a high-spirited cry and rushed cheerfully into the kitchen. As always, Christian hadn't had done any circumstances with dressing, but only had his apron around his waist, leaving the white, round globes free for Maxim to watch and to adore like melons surrounded by cream. He stepped behind him and pressed his half-hard penis into the crack. Christian jumped. "Geez, not that again!" he snorted. "You've startled me."

"With what?" He rubbed tenderly his cock up and down, moistened the crack with his fluid. Christian pushed back. "Two minutes and we have coal in the pan", he said, turning to Maxim, embracing him, still holding the cooking spoon.

"Who cares about coal in the pan", Maxim murmured. "Thanks for beautiful night." His almond eyes drowned into Christian's grey sparkling ones.

"You're welcome." He tugged at his short apron, lifted it until his naked abdomen and his erect penis, touched Maxim's. "As much as I want to, but you should go and wash away that intoxicating smell for semen, endorphin and men and then... let's have breakfast." He patted Maxim's arse cheeks and shoved him in the direction of the bath.

Coco jumped literally into his arms when Maxim entered the watching station at the animal clinic and opened the cage. He meowed as if he hadn't seen him for a year long. Maxim thought it was rather a complaint that he had to stay here overnight and that Maxim had allowed that he had poisoned himself. "I know, sweetie," Maxim murmured. "I'm so sorry about all this. I should have told you that the plants are taboo. Well, now you know, don't you?" He pierced Coco’s blue eyes, searching for comprehending.

Coco's eyes found Christian, standing aside and his fur bristled. There was no way that he would allow Chris to stroke him. Maxim searched questioning for the eyes of the young assistant. "You think it’s normal?" Maxim asked her. "Is there any chance that Coco will be friends with him sometime?"

She rocked her head pensively. "I don't think so. Animals have a fine instinct." She guided her blue eyes - matching Coco's - at Christian. "Either they feel fear or hate. Are you afraid of cats?"

"Well, I never had a cat. I don't know how to treat him."

"You're insecure." She nodded. "Yes, happens often. Well, I wouldn't force anything. You can't train cats, he will always do what he likes, right Coco?" She petted Coco behind the ears and he let it gladly happen. "Some day he will jump into your lap and act as if this was always his favourite place", she laughed. Maxim laughed with her. Only Christian didn't bat an eye.

At home Coco occupied the apartment again, inspecting each corner, but avoided the staircase up to the terrace roof like the plague. Maxim praised him for that. Perhaps he would stay down from now on. "Listen, honey, I have to go to work", he said to the cat. "Since Chris is away too you have the flat for yourself. Don't do anything silly again, ok?" Coco followed Maxim's outstretched and lifted forefinger with interest and meowed.

"How's Coco?" Nadine jumped to him as soon as he saw him.

"Perfect", Maxim beamed. "Everything's ok." He nodded to Tim. "Where's Wolfie? I need to speak to him."

"If you mean the stand-in for Luan, it's all settled." He pulled Maxim a little further so he could peer into Wolfgang's office. He saw Philipp sitting at the table in front of him, signing something. "He's quick, isn't he."

"I hope you don't mean early ejaculations", Nadine said dryly and Maxim rolled his eyes. "Why? Has Tom problems?" He grinned at her. "If you want to know ask Tim."

He went through the rooms, noting that the shop was almost empty. Summer's time. But this didn't mean that the daily internet orders would be diminish. In the opposite. When it's hot nobody was in the mood to stroll through book shops. Except he himself perhaps. He looked around. Like all of his colleagues he corrected himself. "Nadine? Do you have a minute for me?"

Somehow Maxim couldn't scratch the smile from his face today, Nadine thought when he watched him later in the storeroom. And so exactly Maxim was feeling indeed. Despite the tiff, not answered and unasked questions he was happy. Somehow he had woken up as part of a union. And he felt much better since he had promised himself to help Chris with his family problems. That Christian didn't want help he didn't consider in the least.

"What happened to you today? You look so happy", she said finally, leaning against the wall. "Had a good night?"

"Serious", Maxim said, leaning his back against the cool wall beside her, pushing his hands into the trousers pockets. Despite her boorish words Nadine was a buddy he could rely on always.

"Ok." The impish glistening vanished from Nadine’s eyes. "I'm all ears."

"Well, it's nothing special actually. I just need to tell somebody. You know Chris had gone alone yesterday. Well, he came back and was somehow peculiar." He throw a wary look at her if she listened. "Drunken?" she asked.

"No, nothing like that. The opposite. Drunken for self-pity or so. Anyhow, he was very gentle", Maxim breathed deeply. "I've found an old photo of his family. All together you know, mother, father, kids. Late in the night I've found him pretty upset and somewhat out of control. Out of his mind in the armchair where he must had examined the photo."

"Hm. You think there's a connection? Haven't you told me that his mother had commit suicide?"

"Yes. He said it was his fault. He's guilty for her death." He didn't look at Nadine but he could feel physically her mind reeling.

"So he said? I think that was metaphorically meant." She paused a second. "But when he feels guilty there must be a trigger to feel so. Something must have happened." She turned to look into Maxim's face. "You haven't chosen exactly an easy going lover, honey. I guess he has some deep problems he tries to hide." She ruffled his hair. "I wished I could help you, but how?"

"You know, I like to speak with Philipp, perhaps he knows more. He lived with Chris for four years so he must know something about the family's state."

Nadine nodded briefly. "But I doubt that Chris has told him when he's so affected still. This must be a secret hidden deeply in his heart, don't you think?"

"And Martin?"

"The twin?" Nadine shrugged. "Twins are thick as thieves. He won't tell you."

"They aren't thick as thieves, Nadine. I wouldn't say they hate each other, but they aren't close. Despite all things I've heard about twins."

"Exceptions confirm the rule. Well, I'd try with Phil first."

On cue Philipp peeped through the door. "What you're doing here alone, eh? Naughty, indescribable things??"

"Shove off, Phil", Nadine and Maxim said in unison.

"Hey, I'd like to invite you to a drink after work. Celebrate my new job!"

Nadine and Maxim looked at each other. They understood one another without words and nodded.

* * * * *

It was after eight when they locked the door. A pub was just across the street. It was a smoke filled, large room with Irish fiddle music playing in the background and a mixed audience; today mostly elder men waiting for the guys coming out of the bookshop to check them out or invite them to whatever.

They found an empty round table and Philipp ordered stout. "Have you called Chris to tell him you'll be late?" he asked. "He doesn't like surprises."

"What do you mean?" Maxim asked.

Philipp bit his tongue. "Never mind." He hesitated. "When I was with him, he always wanted to know where I am and with whom and what I was doing. Not that I minded those days."

"Aha. And later you minded."

Nadine tossed him her mobile phone. "Better you call", she said. Maxim looked at the phone and took it after a while. Actually he found it embarrassing but Nadine involved Philipp into a chat and so Maxim had privacy. He felt Tim's dark eyes though resting upon him, but it didn't bother him. Christian's voice cooled down a few degrees when Maxim told him that he was with Philipp. "So he got the job, right? Well, in the end Philip always gets what he wants. When can I expect you?"

"I won't be late."

"Hurry up, then. I miss you." Christian hung up.

Tim was still looking at him. He had hardly touched his beer. Maxim knew that beer wasn't exactly Tim's cup of tea and stout was pretty heavy. Maxim smiled at him across the table. "Writing another novel?" he asked him.

"I'm gathering stuff. It should be a real novel, not just a motley collection of stories."

"What about?"

Tim threw a side glance at Philipp. He remembered their talk and if he could work Maxim's and Christian's story into a novel. Out of the question of course. And besides, did he have enough knowledge and what was there to write about actually? There was neither a crime involved nor any other interesting things. Just hints. And a big love story perhaps. A skeleton of a plot.

"I still don't know. It's difficult to find an interesting story line." His eyes went astray. He met winking eyes of elder men and he looked quickly away. Not that these approaches didn't make him smile inwardly.

Christian wasn't the topic anymore this evening and when Tim started to yawn Maxim took the opportunity to close the round.

"You can drive with me if you want", Philipp said to Maxim. "We have the same direction."

"And you with me", Nadine said. Tim nodded.

Maxim stepped into Philipp's little Nissan, surprised that he had a car. "Gift from Chris in the old, happy days. What has he given you already?"

A concert piano, Maxim wanted to say but he was silent. He stared pensively at Philipp. Both now shared the same secrets. The same knowledge. Phil knew that Christian was a good lover. And Maxim was pretty demanding in this direction. He decided to take the bulls by the horns and said straight away, "For me it's odd to sit here with you, my predecessor with Chris. We share the same things. The most odd thing is I like you."

"Why shouldn't you like me? I'm no danger for you. I won't dispute your right, you know. You can have and keep him." He glanced at Maxim while he started to drive. "Well of course it's somewhat funny", he added. "I mean I had my reasons to end this relationship. Thus I'm interested how are you doing, you see? On the other hand I don't want to interfere nor influence you. Chris is pissed that I'm now your colleague, am I right?"

"You're right. Is he afraid you'd tell me dirty secrets?"

Another glance from Phil. "Not exactly dirty." He hesitated. "Maxim, I want you to know, that you can talk to me if you're in need. 'You will be in need' he thought to himself. "You won't be too ashamed then, promise?"

"I don't think this will be necessary."

They fell silent for a while. Then Maxim said. "I have a question. Do you know about Chris' parents?"

"Sure. His father's a swine."

Swine? Wasn't this Chris' last night's words?

"He married the heir of a large pharmacy factory and made career. Actually he was just assistant in the laboratory development. Then he became boss of the department, later he belonged to the board of directors."

"Well, he wasn't the first man making career in marrying the right woman."

"Right. I once met him at his birthday party. When he saw me he almost had me thrown out of the house. Having two gay sons he thought his clean record could have gotten a dirty mark. He feared for his reputation would be compromised. If neither wouldn't sire an offspring, who would inherit the enterprise?"

"Inherit? Does he owns the factory now?"

Philipp nodded. "Of course, after his wife was dead, the factory was his. His parents-in-law died by a helicopter crash in the Grand Canyon."

Maxim's head swirled. "And Chris' mother. Do you know anything about her death?"

"She drowned in a lake."

Maxim sent a desperate look up to the car's ceiling. "Gosh, I know that! Everybody answers my question the same. What I mean is, WHY has she commit suicide?"

Phil didn't answer. From Martin he knew that it was about jealousy. That she had hit her husband occasionally. Hit and threaten.

When they approached the towers of the Potsdamer Platz Philipp kept to the right and stopped the car. He wind down the window. A cool breeze swept through the car. "Are you suspicious about something?" he asked.

"Nadine thought I should start with you. Yesterday Chris reacted strange to an old family photo. I wasn't sure if the trigger was his father or his mother. He wouldn’t tell me. He just asks me not to ask about his past. But it makes me curious, you see?"

"I see. But I can't help you. I know nothing more than you. Has Tim told you I met Gregor, Chris' ex-lover?"

Maxim nodded. "The plump, blond one at Tim’s reading. Do you think he knows more?"

"Definitely he knows more. He made hints about the scars, about Gregor's own accident."

"Accident?"

Philipp shrugged. "I hope to find out more when we'll meet next."

"Good. Chris said it was his fault that his mother's dead."

"He said this?" Philipp asked surprised. He watched people streaming out of a cinema. The sinking sun shrouded them into a rosy light, blurring the contours.

"Listen, Maxim, Perhaps we put more secrets into Chris' past than there are. If I were you, I would leave it alone and enjoy living with him. If you're nice you'll get everything from him. All of his time and all his love."

"I'm not a good working puppet." Maxim said. "I'm not always nice It's not exactly matured when you deny yourself just to please your lover. I'm a human; I have the right to have bad days."

Phil looked at him. "You're right it's not mature", he said slowly. "I was too young to stand up for myself."

"You talk in riddles. Has it to do with your earlier remark about the phone call?"

"Well, Chris likes to have everything under control. It's a sign of affection when he wants to know everything that concerns you."

"But he never returns something back in this direction."

"As I said, you'll get everything you want from him."

Maxim breathed out unsatisfied with Philipp's answer. "Will you tell me at least about your meeting with Gregor?"

"Of course."

In a tree beside them birds gathered for their night's rest. "Are you still dating Tim?" Maxim asked after a while.

Philipp grinned. "We figured out we're not in love with each other. Just good friends."

"With a one-night-stand", Maxim chuckled.

"Yeah." Philipp eyed Maxim from aside. He wondered if Maxim was really that blind not to see Tim was hopelessly in love with him. But he held his tongue. He wanted to keep Maxim's innocence as long as he could.

"Don't forget Maxim, if you need help or an open ear, I'm here for you."

Maxim smiled. "Now you're two. Nadine said the same."

Philipp returned the smile.

"Have you warmed my old bed with a new lover?"

Philipp laughed. "Not yet. I thought about Erik."

"Oh no! You can't sink that low."

"He's following me whenever he sees me! You think I'm in danger?"

"Danger for your virginity?" Maxim scoffed, before both snorted.

"Well, I better go. Thanks for lending me your ear."

"Anytime."