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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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A Promise and a Curse - 12. Chapter 12

Simon leafed through the Prague guide he had gotten from Nicholas yesterday when he and Ben had seen him at home. He got some good tips on what to visit and was looking forward to meeting his brother again. Finally he put it aside and opened a journal. It was another one because he left his diary at home for Ben to read.

He took a pen and began to write,

"Tuesday, May 26th

I just crossed the border and wonder what Prague will have in store for me. I miss you already. I've learned from Marcus that Neil's - George's brother-in-laws' work place is now the "Golden Gate" at Prague's Castle Hradcany. I'm looking forward to visiting it.

I only hope Sebastian will not put himself into dangerous situations. He has Daniel's certificate of authenticity with him, so I really hope the chaplain of the church won't make any problems. But this is rubbish when I think it over. I mean that chaplain had enough criminal energy to have the altar stolen - so a certification won't convince him for sure. How Christian! Wasn't there a Commandment, Thou shalt not steal ... or something. After all, you are the expert in Bible study, Ben. Well, that's proof that even chaplains are just human. I wonder if it would have been easier to ask Daniel if he would sell the altar, but Kay told me that Daniel would never sell his precious altar.

You know what, Ben? The imagination to spend some days with my elder brother makes me happy. We lost touch and it was entirely my fault, you know this already. So, in this sense, I'm entirely glad now. Hmm, have I told you that Marcus and Sebastian were lovers frequently when I had been with Marcus? I won't say it doesn't hurt still but I'm a little bit inhibited whenever I meet him. He is so ... sheer force, you know. He has a strong presence. I wonder how Kay is coping with this."

A loudspeaker announcement told Simon that the train would soon arrive at Prague central station, so he gathered all his clothes and got ready. He saw both Sebastian and Kay instantly standing on the platform, a bit wet from a rain shower. Soon he was greeted with big hugs, Sebastian taking his bag and they were rushing out of the old-fashioned art nouveau building.

"Oh gosh, I'm so happy that you are here. Too bad Ben couldn't make it." Kay was chatting happily along while they stepped into Sebastian's car.

"You know, we must go across the town to reach our hotel. Nicki suggested a little one at the other side of the river ..." he bent over to Sebastian, "what is the name?"

"To the Three Ostriches."

"Ah, yes. Strange name, isn't it? Anyway, it's lovely. We reserved a double room for you just in case Ben's coming later. You know what? It's set on a small island with little watermills on its beach. It is said that Rabbi Loew has taken the clay from it to create his Golem."

Kay stopped his chattering abruptly and looked at his brother. "But you say nothing! How are you?"

Sebastian and Simon laughed in unison. "Geez, how could I say anything when your mouth doesn't stand still for a second? But I'm fine, thank you."

Kay joined their laughter.

Sebastian turned into the large square of the Wenceslaus Place. Simon saw a huge equestrian statue, flanked by four more statues. They passed great looking hotels, jewelers, bank exchanges, cafes and restaurants before they touched the Old Town Square, which was entirely pedestrian zone.

"Look, there's the Teyn Church." Sebastian pointed to a twin belfry made of dark brown, uncovered stone. Several little spires stuck into the cloudy sky. It looked gloomy and Simon shivered as if he would have a dejavu. He was sure he had seen these belfries before, perhaps in an old movie about the Hussite Wars.

But a minute later they were crossing a bridge and Simon had the most beautiful view ever. The Moldau was running calm as a dark, broad stream, spanned by several bridges: the Charles Bridge was the most impressive of all. It ended at two stone gates and behind it Prague's castle, Hradcany, was towering over the town.

"Isn't it great?" Kay asked. "If I had known how beautiful Prague is ..." he sighed.

Sebastian stopped the car in front of a little, yellow washed hotel. Over the door, three ostriches were painted. "U tri Pstrosu," Simon read.

"It formerly belonged to a master of hat makers, who was purveyor to the court for Emperor Rudolf II. He delivered ostrich feathers. He was so proud of it, so he had three ostriches painted upon the wall," Kay said.

"Ah! And when was this?"

"Hey, you don't know about Rudolf II?" Sebastian asked. "The wimpy Austrian Emperor ruled the whole Holy Roman Reich of German Nation? It was about ... in the 17th century. He resided in the Hradcany and employed many astrologers and astronomers like Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler; painter like Archimboldo. It's said that he was busy with alchemy and finding the Philosopher's stone. Rabbi Loew was his contemporary."

Simon's head was swirling. This would be an interesting trip and his diary would be full to the brim he thought well humored. He took his bag and followed the others.

*

Simon noticed that his brother was very anxious regarding Simon's food when they had their supper in one of the rustic pubs around the place. He ordered him chicken and a green salad and Simon looked envious at Sebastian's plate filled with little sausages, dumplings and a big mountain of sauerkraut. "Too bad you can't have a taste, honey." Sebastian said chewing. "It's delicious, but a bit fatty." Simon grinned, watching Sebastian take a large gulp of black beer.

"Have you been in the church already?" He asked.

"No, not yet. Yesterday we were too tired you know. It took us a while to arrive here."

Do you have any idea how to get the altar? I don't think it will be used as the official altar, do you?" Simon asked him.

"Why not? When they think it's safe." Sebastian emptied his beer glass and the waiter rushed to the table, offering a large plate full of little bulbous glasses filled with a clear, ivory liquid.

"Becherovka?" he asked. "Good for your stomach," he continued in lovely broken German. "It's not alcohol. It's medicine." He grinned.

Sebastian took two glasses and the waiter vanished.

"To your health," he said to Simon before he sniffed, made approving noises and sipped on it. "Hmm, great." Kay said after doing the same. It's herbal liqueur." He patted his belly where he felt an instant warm feeling. Simon smiled sourly. He would have liked to taste it. Shitty hepatitis.

"How long do you need to be so careful with your food?" Kay asked and Simon sighed. "Frequently forever. At least two years of strict dieting."

"Gosh! I'm so sorry." Kay put his hand over Simon's fingers and squeezed them. "But you're looking good. Ben's care?"

Simon nodded. "He's the best thing that ever happened to me."

Sebastian smiled too. "Then to Ben!" he lifted another beer glass and drank. "Damn this beer is great." "Oh," he said after a glance at Simon. "I'm sorry." But Simon laughed. It was a good idea to drive to Prague, he thought. He would have a lot of fun, he was sure.

"Do you know why the other piece of your cousin's altar is here in Prague?" Simon asked after a while and Sebastian nodded.

"At least I guess so. Once whole Tyrol was one sovereign country but after long quarrels the last sovereign, Margarete Maultasch, was giving the governmental power to Duke Rudolf IV of Habsburg, an Austrian/German dynasty."

He wiped his mouth with the napkin. "You know, he was an ancestor of Emperor Rudolf II we talked about before. It was in ... 1363 and Tyrol then belonged to the Habsburg Reich. You know surely about the parting of Tyrol into North Tyrol, belonging now to Austria and South Tyrol, becoming a part of Italy after World War I."

Simon said nothing; he must have missed it in school and glanced at his brother who shrugged his shoulders helplessly. They grinned at each other while Sebastian was giving them a lecture in European history.

"The peasant's rebellion in 1525 had great affect on Tyrol, especially to a small village named St. Lorentzen. It was the birthplace of Jakob Huter who founded the "Anabaptist movement," a Christian sect, not beloved by the official church because they demanded a radical new order of the clerical and society conditions. Hundreds of them were punished with torture and execution. About 6.000 Hutterer fled to the more tolerant Bohemia and founded there a first Brotherhood, living restricted by the words of the Bible - without any private possessions. Today they still live in parts of the United States of America and in Canada. Like before, after the principles of the ancient Christian community of property."

Sebastian's mouth was dry, so he ordered another black beer although he felt a bit dizzy already.

"And what happened to ... Huter?" Kay wanted to know.

"He returned to Tyrol to preach his lesson, but he was imprisoned and in Innsbruck burnt to ashes in 1536."

"Geez. Give me some of your beer." Kay grabbed the glass and gulped. Sebastian ordered another one and a mineral water for Simon. The air in the basement pub was getting thick with smoke.

"We suppose that one of the Hutterer took the altar with him or her. At least this is what I worked out for myself after doing research in Meran's annals. You know St. Lorenzen is still the place of a Pacher altar, the remains of a big winged altar piece built in 1462, called "The Madonna of the grapes."

"Again just remains?"

Sebastian nodded. He had to stop drinking this damn beer but it was the best beer he ever had tasted. He wiped his forehead. "Yes, the rest is still missing."

"Perhaps we'll find it here too?" Kay threw in. He was getting sleepy and couldn't quite follow Sebastian's explanations any more. He slid down his chair and closed his eyes.

"You know," Sebastian began again but his tongue was a bit heavy, "the von Falkenstein's, Daniel's family, belonged in ancient times to the crusaders of the Teutonic Order of Knights which was founded after the fall of Jerusalem in 1099. Later they became mercenaries who fought on the Catholic side of the Thirty Years' War, which began in 1618. After the Battle of the White Rock, not far from Prague, they won over the soldiers of the German protestant King Frederick V, so they took a piece of Michael's father's altar with them. Since then it is in Daniel's family possession."

Simon was listening with interest. He pushed Kay, who seemed to be asleep, but he opened his eyes instantly. "I've heard everything," he said and yawned. "So, now the riddle of the altar is solved - at least if your theory is right, Bastian," Kay said. "The chaplain wanted to have the altar complete, right?" He stretched himself. "With a tad rude method. Robber baron methods." He looked at Sebastian's reddened face and poked him in the ribs. "Bed is calling, sweetheart."

Sebastian grinned lopsided and waved the waiter over. He paid a ridiculously small bill he realized astonished, left a big tip, rose and swayed slightly. Together they climbed the stairs until they breathed fresh night air. It hit Sebastian's head like a hammer. "Shit, one of the beers must have been bad," he joked.

"I told you not to drink so much black beer," Kay was teasing him, took his arm and led him in the direction of the hotel.

In front of their rooms Simon said to Sebastian, "I liked your story. Hope to hear more of them.

Sebastian smiled, bowed slightly and nodded. Kay was pushing him through the door. "If he begins to snore, I'll come into your bed." He winked at Simon and closed the door.

Early next morning Simon met a pretty squashed Kay and a very fresh looking Sebastian at the breakfast table. He grinned at his brother. "Thought Sebastian was the one who had a beer too much yesterday," he said. Sebastian answered his smile. "He's not a morning person, you should know this."

"Yeah, I know." He nudged his brother and winked at Sebastian. "Everything ok?"

"What do you mean?" Sebastian asked innocently. "You didn't think those little black beers would knock me out, did you?"

Simon grinned mischievously. With a snort he bit into his fresh but dry roll. He was forbidden to eat butter.

"And what now?" he asked.

"We could go sightseeing." Kay was awake now and lamely lifted Nicholas' guide.

"Sightseeing!" Sebastian shouted. "Well, you can go sightseeing but I'm going to the Teyn church."

"Not without us, sweetie," Kay said, "let's start with the church."

When they entered the Charles Bridge, leading over the Moldau they were overwhelmed. On both sides were standing large black sandstone sculptures, showing crucifixion scenes, saints and other groups. Painters had set up their drawings, waiting for customers and admirers.

"Finished in 1402," Kay read. "In commission of Emperor Charles IV, therefore the name. 'Karluv Most' is the Czech name. Look, here's the statue of Holy John of Nepomuk. He was thrown into the river here."

Simon and Sebastian bent over the landing and stared into the water.

"Hey, did you know that the bricklayers mixed the mortar with egg yolk to make it solid?" Kay exclaimed after reading on. "Whole wagon loads came to Prague from the villages. One of them even sent hard boiled eggs because they feared they would break during the journey."

All three laughed until they reached the Old Town Bridge Tower - a mighty sandstone building with an acute roof. They admired the churches and followed a small, winding street, full of tourists and passengers, flanked by wonderful restored houses of all ages.

After passing the Town Hall they saw in the distance the brown, gloomy towers of the Teyn church. Somehow it didn't fit into the scenery. In front of it were several colourful houses and buildings. Simon was staring at a broad bronze memorial amidst the wide place, then a horse carriage blocked his view. He felt very sorry that Ben wasn't with him; he would surely enjoy this trip.

"Memorial to Jan Hus, director of the university, reformer of the church, burned at the stake by the council of Konstanz in 1415. King Sigismund had betrayed him. It was the origin of the Hussite Wars."

"Oh dear, what a bloody history," Simon said but Sebastian was getting impatient. He loved the look of the town but was very anxious about the altar. He dragged the boys with him, trying to find the entrance but failed. They stood in front of several restaurants, shops and cafe's but the small lane was a dead end street. Helplessly they looked around before Sebastian peered into a low, stony, vaulted passage, small enough for only one man to pass.

"Let's try here." They found each other in a dark, wet and smelly yard and saw a wooden door. The belfries of the church towered above them.

"Yes!" Kay shouted. He pulled at the door ring and the door opened with a crunching sound.

It was very dark. They waited a moment for their eyes to adjust. The naves were high, covered with ribbed vault and their steps were echoing through the whole room. They passed altars and a carved wooden figure of Holy Mary; it looked very old.

"Do you see something?" Simon whispered.

"Not yet. Too many altars." Kay answered. What does the altar look like?" Simon shivered. It was very cold in here.

"Shush, stop talking," Sebastian said low. "Let me see." He vanished into one of the small side naves while Simon stood in front of a red, square gravestone plate, fixed to one of the pillars. It showed a man in a knight's armour or something. "Tycho Brahe," Kay read. "Not wealth, not honour, only art is eternal" read the engraving.

"Who is Tycho Brahe? Sebastian mentioned him yesterday."

"Could it be true that Tycho died of a burst bladder?" Kay asked instead of an answer.

"Huh?"

Kay grinned. "Read it somewhere."

"Which reminds me... I need a piss," Simon said. "It's scary here."

Kay sighed and followed his brother, looking for Sebastian. He found him sneaking into the sacristy. After a minute he returned and shook his head. Pondering, he stood in front of the high altar, looking blankly at the huge painting above it. "Well, I didn't expect it to be easy," he said after a while.

Suddenly he examined the high altar more closely and a chortle came from his throat. "Holy cow - can't see the wood for the trees." He rushed forward, hands outstretched like the head as if he was about short of sight. "This is it," he muttered. "Kay, Simon," he called low. "It's looking so different now."

All three were gathered and stared silently at Michael Pacher's carved altar. Mary was reunited with her mother, Anna, and Johannes, the apostle, carrying a book in his hand.

Sebastian's fingers touched the flower elements, the clouds and the stars, the stylized lilies at her feet and the foliage above their heads. Simon and Kay didn't speak, they just looked.

"What now?" Simon finally asked. "It looks so heavy, do you think we can carry it?"

Sebastian cautiously tried to lift one side and nodded. "It's not that heavy, but we must bring the car and clothes next time."

Something startled him; his head flung around and he was listening.

"What is it?" Kay asked but Sebastian shushed him with outstretched hand. One moment later he dragged and pushed the boys behind a pillar, where they stood petrified in the gloomy darkness, silently.

It was not a moment too early. The three watched a bald, lanky, slender man coming from the backside of the altar, perhaps a back entrance. He was wearing a wide, ground length, black cloak with a white collar and cuffs. Upon his chest was embroidered a big white cross with eight radiant beams seemingly flowing out from it. Kay suppressed a gasp; the man looked too strange. Sebastian's grip on his underarm was painful but he said nothing.

Behind the man another one appeared, young and in normal clothes. At the same time they heard footsteps on the spiral staircase. First a torn pair of brown shoes appeared, then the hem of a brown habit.

Slowly he went over to the waiting man with the cross of eight radiant beams on his chest. Sebastian wasn't sure but he seemed as if he would like to make a silent request but the back of the bald man was stiff and without movement. He was saying something they couldn't understand - naturally. But his voice sounded harsh and rasping. He nodded incessantly and patted the old wood. Then he covered it with a cloth and beckoned both men to follow him. Groaning, they carried the altar to the backdoor.

Suddenly the bald man turned his head. His black eyes pierced the gloominess and Sebastian was suddenly sure that the man knew they were present.

His stomach tingled and he had goose bumps all over his body. But without any noise the slender, bald man vanished through the back door with it's well lubricated hinges.

Sebastian shook off his odd feelings and made a rushing movement on tiptoes. He followed them and peered around the door to see them put the altar into the backseat of a black limousine. Disappointed he realized that he had no chance being without a car. He shivered a bit from excitement. These Maltese guys had been impressive. Sebastian left the place and went silently back.

"Are they gone?" Simon asked and Sebastian nodded. "With a car."

The man in the habit returned into the church. In front of the high altar he stood and folded his hands and guided them to his lips. Absorbed, he stood there several minutes until he let out a deep moan. He raked his stubble hair and trotted with dropped head up the staircase.

"I really need a piss." Simon whispered. Sebastian nodded in the direction of the exit.

Outside they breathed deeply. "What was this for an odd costume with the big cross?" Kay spluttered. "And why did he take the altar with him? What a shit!" Simon added.

"Ah, give me a second, guys." Sebastian said. "Didn't you say you need a piss? Here's a cafe."

"If I'm not wrong we saw the Grand master of the Order of the Knights of Malta himself." Sebastian said, stirring the sugar in his cappuccino.

"The Grand master?" Kay snorted. "Sounds so medieval!"

"Indeed. But the order still exists." He sipped at his cup then looked at the taciturn Simon. "Your chocolate ok?"

Simon nodded. "Taste great."

Sebastian's sharp eyes didn't miss the paleness of his face. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Hungry I think. Nothing more."

Sebastian remembered that Simon once had a bit more fat on his ribs. "Are you eating enough when Ben isn't with you?" Sebastian sounded concerned and Kay was examining his brother too.

"How about a second breakfast for you and meanwhile Sebastian can enlighten us about this strange order."

Simon nodded and looked at the menu. He felt better when he had breads with white cheese and leaned back satisfied. Across from him he watched Sebastian, who had joined his order of bread. Once more he felt sad that Ben wasn't with him; he would feel much better. A bit startled about this thought his knife fell to the ground. Kay bent down to pick it up. Simon had known before that he was in love with Ben but didn't realize until now how much he would miss him. The last weeks had developed a bond between them and Simon had to admit to himself that he enjoyed it. This evening would be Ben's exhibition and then he hoped to see Ben here in Prague.

Sebastian's voice penetrated his thoughts. "I don't know much about the Maltese Order, but there's certainly a touch of mystery around it. All I know is that the origin was founded in Jerusalem before the first crusade. They called themselves 'Knights of the Hospital' or something."

"Didn't you tell us yesterday that Daniel's ancestors had been crusaders too?" Kay asked.

"Yes!" Sebastian's eyes glittered. Perhaps there was a connection? He made a plan. "Listen, you both stay here and I will go back to the church. I have to speak to the man in the habit. He must be the chaplain."

Suddenly he slapped his forehead. "Stupid. Of course this must be Jan, the chaplain Andrea was speaking of. Marcus told me on the phone."

"How will you talk with him? You know Czech language?"

"Perhaps he's able to speak English."

Kay didn't like the idea of Sebastian going alone but maybe it would be better to stay here with his brother.

"If I'm not back in an hour, go back to the hotel and call for the police, understand?"

Kay gave him an amazed look. "You think there could be trouble?"

"You never know." He patted Kay's hand and was gone. He didn't see the worried looks the brothers exchanged.

Sebastian pushed open the heavy wooden door and went without hesitation to the end of the spiral staircase.

"Hello!" he shouted upstairs. There was no answer. He tried it with English. "Excuse me, but is it possible to speak to you?"

Perhaps the man had gone, but after a while he heard footsteps coming down. Sebastian waited and checked him out. The habit was shabby but clean; around his belly was a plain belt. His face looked tired and his stubble hair began to gray.

"Do you speak English?"

The tiny, dull eyes twinkled. He nodded.

"Good, Sebastian von Scheffel, I'm from Germany. May I ask you some questions?"

The man nodded once more, his face now wary and unfriendly.

"I suppose you are Jan, the chaplain, am I right?"

The man's eyes widened. "How ... how do you know?" His voice was rough, as if he didn't speak often.

Sebastian shook his head. "I've watched you and the Grand master taking an altar away." He watched for Jan's reaction but there wasn't any.

"May I ask you where they have taken it?"

"Why do you want to know? I cannot tell you."

"Sure you can. A part of it was stolen from a castle in Italy. I think I have the right to know where it has been taken."

"Are you from the police?"

Sebastian seemed to hear fear in Jan's voice. He hesitated.

"Do you have a mark?"

"I'm not a policeman. But there's nothing that would stop me from calling them."

Jan's laughter scratched in Sebastian's ear. "You have no evidence that it was here. And I will not give you the new place." Jan sounded determined and stared into Sebastian's eyes.

"You want evidence? All right, next time I'll bring the police."

"They will not believe a single word." Jan was getting a bit worried though, he certainly was afraid of being interviewed by the police. His heart was still bleeding from the loss of the altar, but he wouldn't oppose the Grand master. He had spoken of a mystery in the altar but Jan was afraid he would never learn the solution of the riddle. He sighed. He couldn't tell this man the truth, if he did he would lose everything, the Grand master would make sure.

He straightened his back and stared into Sebastian's gray green eyes. Sebastian sensed that he had lost, but perhaps it wasn't important. He knew now that the Maltese Order had it's fingers in it, and somewhere in Prague they had their place. Surely Nicholas' guide would help.

"Tell me the place of the Order at least."

"Mala Strana."

"Pardon?"

"Mala Strana." Jan said through clenched teeth.

Sebastian tried to memorize the words and turned without saying good bye.

Arriving at the little cafe where Kay and Simon still pondered about the events, he snatched the city guide and leafed through the register, ignoring the questions. "Here's something about it," he exclaimed after a while. "Mala Strana ... Little Townside ... Order of the Knights of Malta ... St. Mary beneath the Chain ... the house of the Grand priory not far from our hotel."

Kay and Simon looked confused at him and Sebastian began to grin. "Jan won't tell me anything, perhaps too afraid of the Grand master. Perhaps he gave it away reluctantly."

"You don't want to start a fight with the Order of the Maltese? Kay said. "This guy looked pretty frightening."

"Frightening?" Sebastian shook his head. "Could be worse. Now", he clapped his hands upon the table, "what about sightseeing?" he asked good-humouredly.

Once more the brothers exchanged worried glances. "Are you feeling all right?" Kay asked cautiously.

"Hey, I thought you both would love playing games, so the game is on. Let's have a visit at," he looked into the book, "St. Mary beneath the chain!"

*

The fragile parchment rustled between Daniel's fingers. He cursed Victor's cranky peculiarity to use this delicate material for his documents. Sleepily he glanced over the writing in search of interesting passages. To his side, the sheets piled high up while he lay half stretched out upon the couch in his living room. The last suns rays grew pale behind the great mountain range.

"Yesterday Maximilian reveled a secret to me. It had been late and our bellies had been cozily warmed up from the self made Feigenschnaps - not to mention it was well filled with Kaminwurzen, Maronen and Speck.

Maximilian's pipe painted tiny blue clouds into the evenings fragrant air. It's a wonderful patch of earth here..."

Daniel yawned and his eyes were getting smaller. He wished Victor would stop his flowery style and come to the point.

"Maximilian had told me about the long history of his family. The old Knights of the Teutonic Order being in Jerusalem during the Third Crusade. The von Falkensteins had seen old Emperor Barbarossa drowning in the river, had seen his mate Richard the Lion Heart and had knowledge of his arrest in Austria and the years he languished in a dungeon at Düernstein..."

Daniel's eyes fluttered and he groped for his glass of wine.

"They guarded for a long, long time the relics they had taken away from Jerusalem to their castle Montfort north of Akkon. And then Maximilian beckoned me to follow him... We stood in the little chapel, the flickering light of Maximilian's gas lamp illuminated Michael Pacher's beautiful altar. I couldn't exactly see what he was doing but I heard a scratching noise and a squeaking of wood and then Maximilian opened his hand he had held under my noise. I blinked and couldn't quite understand why Maximilian was so excited. The reason I should learn instantly."

Daniel jerked upright as he read further. Then he stared out the window. All these years - and he hadn't any clue ... his great grandfather had hidden the secret well. Like having been bitten by a tarantula, Daniel jumped up, ran into the hall to his telephone and searched for Sebastian's number in Prague. Impatiently he waited to get a connection and as soon as he heard his cousin's voice the words came out.

* * *

Nicholas knew how Ben felt. He remembered the exhibition in January where his own paintings had been exhibited and sold. Now it was the end of May and so much in his life had changed. He folded his arms behind his back and watched the people gathered in the rooms.

This time there were people here he hadn't seen before, visitors to Berlin, enticed by the big signs Marcus had placed beside the entrance and the hype he had made in newspapers. But he was genuinely pleased to see some of his classmates.

From the back room, where the furniture was placed, he heard Marcus' voice explaining the uniqueness and history of the old wardrobe whose twin was standing in the Louvre.

He watched Ben standing aside talking to a customer, explaining his extensive, colourful paintings. Nicholas actually didn't like abstract art but he definitely liked Ben's use of colours. He could easily imagine them hanging in office rooms for representation. Ben didn't seem to be too nervous or uncomfortable though, and Nicholas sighed. Ben wasn't like he himself at all. Sometimes he envied him for this.

Someone tapped at his shoulder from behind and one moment later he looked into Elli Schneiders smiling face. His cheeks turned a bit pink remembering their last meeting.

"Where's the original of my painting, Nick? I didn't see it here."

While Nicholas pondered what she could mean she continued. "Kay - or what was his name?"

"Oh, Kay. He's not in Germany."

"What a pity." She circled him like a predator does its prey.

"Made a decision?"

Nicholas watched her from the corner of his eyes. She was pressed into a much too tight and short skirt, the white blouse tucked into the belt. He could see her bra shimmering through. He nodded. "I think ten sessions should be enough," he said and Elli's face lit up.

"Is this a yes?"

"If you tell me for whom I have to paint you..." Nick said mischievously and Elli giggled. She ben to him. "Perhaps I'll tell you." Her fingers brushed his cheeks and the nape of his neck. "Perhaps I have something better for you," she said with a meaningful wink. "Something better than Marcus has to offer."

She winked and went away but Nicholas almost snorted with laughter. If she was thinking she could compete with his lover than she was seriously barking up the wrong tree. But his laughter stuck in his throat when he saw Frank entering the room. Instantly he glanced at Ben still occupied in a talk. Nicholas groped for Matthias' arm. The grip must have been strong because his friend turned curiously and swallowed the last bit of his chocolate cake.

"Frank," Nick whispered and Matthias knew what he was talking about. "You didn't expect to see him here, did you? Who is the man with him?" He pointed at a plump man whose face was sweating. It had been warm all day.

Nicholas shrugged. He rushed over to Ben and whispered into his ear.

"I couldn't miss your big day, could I?" Both heard Franks voice from behind them.

"You disrupt him," Nicholas said and dragged Frank away.

"Customer?" Frank asked and looked around. Nicholas was getting nervous. Frank put his hand on the shoulder of the stout man.

"Official guest, my friend. May I introduce: Eduard Ehlers, secretary of the senator for arts and culture."

Nick was stunned for a moment. He knew Eduard's chef, the senator, he had been introduced to him at the last exhibition and even had a note in the newspaper. His father had read it - and because they mentioned Marcus homosexuality - this had led to the break with Nick's father.

"So this time it's just the secretary, not the senator himself," it slipped out and Nick was biting his lips. "I'm sorry, sir. Of course we are pleased to see you."

Eduard made an important face and lifted his double chin. His tiny eyes darted around.

"Looking for Marcus?" Nick asked, but Eduard gave him no answer. He left them standing and strolled around.

Ben had finished his talk and was beaming from ear to ear. "Sold," he said and gazed then at his teacher with disgust. "How was the longest fuck in your life?" he asked with innocent voice. "Is this your newest conquest? Didn't know you have such bad taste."

"Watch your mouth, Ben. Perhaps he has more quality than you have." He paused a second. "To make things clear, I don't know the man. We just arrived at the same time." His ice blue eyes were glittering dangerously. "Where did you leave YOUR newest conquest? The walking death body?"

Ben's arm shot upwards but Nicholas held it and prevented Frank receiving a clout.

"What do you want?" Ben said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, nothing. Just want to know where the hustler is. He's still in this profession?"

"None of your business." Ben was very confused about Frank's aggressive behavior.

"So I understand he's not with you, right? Selling his cute arse at the Zoo?"

Ben turned his back to him and left him standing, Nick on his heels. He heard him muttering something like stupid arsehole and took his hand. Together they went into the other room and found Marcus talking agitatedly to a pair of guests. But Anna had caught sight and was stopping them.

"Such an angry face on this happy evening?" she growled good humouredly. She tugged at Nick's suit and wiped a strand of hair off his forehead.

Nicholas was still embarrassed at how Anna tried to take the place of his mother - after all that happened at the start of the year. Anna had changed a great deal and he was sure that Marcus had had some serious words with her.

"It's nothing, Anna, really." He heard his name being shouted from a distance and recognized Johannes' voice. Then he saw his mother and ran to her, leaving Ben standing a bit awkwardly under Anna's inquiring gaze.

"Nice ponytail," she said benevolently after a while and patted his shoulder. "Are you looking for Marcus?"

Ben nodded and gave Anna an askance look. Though he had never met Marcus' housekeeper personally he knew from Nick's tales about her nosey and jealous being. She was the first to tell Nick's mother about her son's sexual preferences - with cunning intention to part both. She couldn't come to terms that Marcus - still her baby - preferred men to women. And he knew that Simon had suffered under her severe regiment before, but whenever he spoke about her he made fun of it. He waited with her in silence until Marcus noticed and came to them. "Frank's here," Ben sputtered, "and some strange secretary."

Marcus lifted his eyebrows. "Frank and his secretary?"

"Not his, an official from the government."

"Ah! Mr. Ehlers. He was announced. Did he bring the press?"

"Press?"

"You don't want to have a photo of yours in the newspaper, hmm?" He grinned. "But what has Frank to do with it?"

"He asked for Simon."

"Did you tell him he's in Prague?" Ben shook his head.

"Good. There aren't problems with the school about you going tomorrow to join him?"

Ben again shook his head. Marcus' cellular was ringing. He gave Ben a smile and turned to answer it.

Ben looked for Nicholas and found him standing beside a couple and not far from them he recognized his own mother and Elias, his brother. Just as he wanted to go to them he bumped into Eduard standing close behind him and murmured an 'excuse me'. Anna eyed the dumb grinning man before she offered him something to drink.

"Nick?" Marcus shouted. "There are... oh..." He saw Nicholas' mother and right beside her - her husband. Slightly shocked he stopped n his tracks looking alternately at Nicholas, Vera and Rudolf.

Nicholas beamed over his whole face but Marcus couldn't find the right words. Rudolf was looking evasively - it was clear that he felt not exactly comfortable. But he was here and that was all that was important.

Vera smiled at Marcus. "Surprise, isn't it," she said quietly.

"Indeed." Marcus croaked, still staring at Nicholas' father who was clearing his throat.

"I thought it couldn't harm to look at what Nick is doing." He said low but firm. Marcus knew that it must have cost him a lot of thinking and mind changing and he appreciated it a lot. He smiled at him and shook his hand. "I'm glad you came," he said simply. "But excuse us one second."

He dragged Nicholas with him and told him very excited about the call he had received from Sebastian.

"Simon's in Prague, you say?" Frank shot Eduard a wary look. "Didn't say what he's doing there? Is he alone?"

Eduard shrugged, "The long haired one, you had him? He's your pupil."

"Had him," Frank lied.

"How is he?"

"Good." Franks hand brushed Eduards groin per chance. "Nobody's looking at us." He winked. "What do you think Simon is doing in Prague when he's trying to blackmail you? And why should he actually? Guess he has more important things to do, don't you think?"

"But who else?" Eduard squeaked.

"What about the other guy. The guy who led Simon to you in Hamburg."

"Joachim? How should he know I'm here? I changed my work place just for that reason."

"Man, he's not blind I assume. You're in the public attention and from time to time your face is in the newspaper."

"In Hamburg too?" Eduard responded.

"Whatever. One or both it has to be. Either of them, Jo or Simon. We'll find out when Simon returns. Or want to find him in Prague, using your connections?"

"Better. The long haired one has an appointment with Simon tomorrow in Prague."

"Indeed so?" Frank thought for a moment. "Well, it's your case. Follow him or not, it doesn't bother me."

"Enjoying the evening?" Frank whirled around and looked into Marcus' piercing eyes. "I can't remember inviting you."

"Thought this party is open for everybody."

"As host of this ... party, I chose my guest for myself. You definitely do not belong to them." Marcus voice was pure acid.

Eduard twinkled confused. He knew Frank as dominant and aggressive but he obviously had found an equal in Marcus Weidenbruch who looked down at Frank, a half head shorter, with burning eyes.

"I've heard you're interested in Simon's whereabouts. Why does it worry you?" Marcus stepped very close. Frank could feel his breath brushing his skin. "And if you ever should bother Ben again you're quicker on the road than you can count to three, I warn you."

Frank didn't step back. Instead his eyes were getting hard, the pupils tiny points in a sea of ice.

"Don't try to threaten me, Weidenbruch. And don't play the hysteric daddy." His nasty grin returned. "And I know where Simon is, don't worry."

Marcus' hands grabbed Frank's lapels. "What do you want from Simon?" he hissed.

Eduard stepped from one foot to the other and finally cleared his throat. Just that moment a thunder of flash shots came down on them. Two journalists were taking photos of them from a distance and Marcus let loose of Frank's lapels, not without giving him a firm push. With long steps he went to the journalists, "If I see those photos in the newspaper tomorrow you'll get a visit from my solicitors," he snapped. "Understand?" The men nodded confused.

Marcus turned and breathed out audibly. Quarrel was the last thing he needed. He searched for Nicholas who was occupied in a talk with his parents and looked then for Ben. Frank and Eduard seemed to be gone. He found Ben with Matthias, Tina and a good looking woman with black hair and a gray strand in her fringe. The similarity was clearly open.

"I watched Frank going," Ben said but Marcus waved it off. He was completely under self- control again and smiled at the woman. "Mrs. Schaefer, I suppose? Great you could make it."

Marcus had somewhat of a dejavu. He remembered the last exhibition where he had cared for Nicholas' mother.

He was happy and relieved for Nicholas - this had been a real unexpected turn of events. He must be beaming because Ben's usually stern mother beamed back. "Ben's a success this evening," Marcus said, "has a remarkable talent to negotiate with customers."

Ben's ears reddened as everybody was looking and smiling at him. "You both still want the job?"

Matthias and Ben were nodding forcefully.

"Ok, I'll be here most of the day anyway to help you until you both can manage alone." He turned and looked for the journalist to find them at the buffet. He went over to them and said, "I'm sorry for snapping at your before. Would you be so kind as to take the photos of our star of the exhibition?"

Ben was posing in front of his paintings, watched by Marcus with observant eyes. While changing positions several times Marcus could see that there was something going on in Ben's mind. He followed all the orders, smiled into the lenses of the cameras but his grin was frozen, his gaze blank and he was a bit pale. Marcus finally stopped the session; he could see that Ben had had enough. Ben seemed to be thankful.

"Everything ok with you?" Marcus asked. Ben shook his head and looked down at his shoes. Marcus took him by the shoulders and went away to a private corner. "Tell me what's wrong, Ben. Are you unhappy?"

Ben seemed to debate with himself as if to tell Marcus or not. "You know," he said finally, "there was something. You'll say I see white mice or I'm a crazy fool." He took a deep breath. "It's Eduard. You know, I think he could be an old ... buddy of Simon."

Marcus' face was a question mark. So Ben spoke more rapidly. "It's just an idea, Marcus. I remembered a passage of Simon's diary where he mentioned an Eduard, an old comrade from Hamburg, keen on S & M. And since I can imagine that Frank is also in this shit I ..." He looked up and continued quickly. "I mean, Frank and Eduard came together, although he denies knowing him, but... I... think there was something familiar between them. I know there are tons of men named Eduard though, aren't there."

Marcus' hand stopped his gush. "Hold on Ben, I don't understand a single word. Simon is writing a diary? He did S & M? And what's with Hamburg?"

"Oh." Ben was embarrassed and didn't know what to say.

"It's ok, Ben. You don't have to tell me Simon's secrets. You think this Educard Ehlers is the same Eduard that Simon met in Hamburg?"

Ben nodded. Why he didn't shut his mouth he thought angrily at himself. He couldn't tell Marcus that Simon worked as rent boy for Joachim in Hamburg without payment. Tomorrow he would ask him - and after all - if he fucked this Eduard or not shouldn't be of interest. It was over and certainly not forbidden. But then, why was Frank so keen to know of Simon's whereabouts? Was he really up to start trouble? Why?

"You mean there's a connection between Frank's inquiring of Simon's whereabouts?" Marcus asked.

Ben nodded once more. Marcus was examining his reserved face and knew Ben didn't tell the whole story. "I don't understand exactly." He took Ben's upper arms. "If you need help, I'm here for you, always. Don't forget it. You won't tell me more about Simon, hmm?"

Ben didn't answer his look and Marcus smiled encouraging. "I'll try to keep an eye on Frank, that's a promise, Ben. Enjoy your stay in Prague and give Simon my love, will you. Congratulations to your success, my dear."

Ben smiled at Marcus and he pulled Ben into his arms, hugging him briefly, then he was off to meet other guests.

A bit uneasy Ben watched Nicholas, standing with his father, talking seriously. He was truly happy for him. His mother was involved in a talk with Marcus, laughing, more relaxed than he had seen her in a long time. Matthias was kissing Tina in a corner; his brother examined one of his paintings and Elli Schneider was winking at him from the buffet. He heard laughing, clinking of glasses and camera flashbulbs. Everybody seemed to be happy in these rooms but Ben felt suddenly alone. He missed Simon.

* * *

"Tuesday, May 28th

I'm looking forward so much to seeing you, Ben. Tomorrow at this time I'll have you here in my bed and I can't tell you how much I miss you. Hope you'll bring tons of condoms... I was thinking about your exhibition. Hope you made a lot of money. I'm a selfish lad aren't I? We have exciting news about the altar but I can tell you this tomorrow personally. Sebastian has a date with the Grand Master of the Order of the Knights of Malta - would you believe!! We've seen this guy in the church and it frightened the crap out of me. You know, I was thinking about this film ... "The Name of the Rose".... Really Ben, I only hope Sebastian won't be in trouble. His cousin Daniel found out the reason why the Grand Master is so keen on this altar, we are just asking ourselves how he would know about it.

I feel healing myself. Although I'm not always well, I feel good. You are right. Life is not over. Life is wonderful."

* * *

His skinny fingers with the nibbled nails touched the wood here and there; the longer he did the more impatient he grew. He probed in every corner, edge and cleft, examined the plinth from beneath, but couldn't find it. But the parchments told very clearly that Pope Alexander VI sold the relic to one of the old members of the Teutonic Order. Good Lord - what a Pope he must have been to sell holy relics from the Lateran. The German chronist, Johann Burckhard, described exactly all the holy objects kept safely in Rome's church, St. Giovanni in Laterno. It had been mostly relics directly about Jesus Christ. But bit by bit the church and the Christendom got lost from it. Burckhard also mentioned a name - Knut von Falkenstein. He couldn't remember how often he had examined the altar of Michael Pacher because he knew that this altar once belonged to a von Falkenstein; his name was noted in the annals of the Battle of the White Rock. Johannes Burckhard reported that this nut had hidden a relic in the altar - he spoke of a secret hiding place - but until this day he hadn't been able to find it.

Until this lucky day when Jan, the chaplain of the Teyn church, told him about the act of providence of meeting a British restorer with knowledge of the missing part. Tomasz had set all his hopes on finding and getting it. Nothing was too good for it, and now the altar stood complete in front of him. If the whole story wasn't an invention of Burckhard - it had to be here - right in front of his eyes.

Tomasz' fingers trembled and his bald head was shining with sweat. Through the small, round windows sunbeams broke into his magnificent office and hit the embroidery upon his chest. Cardinal Leontini would be grateful. Very grateful. Tomasz' gaunt face changed into a grimace. He - Tomasz Kotomy, Grand Master of the Order of the Knights of Malta, who could follow his roots directly to the Knights of the Templars, would soon be called to Rome, to be the successor of the Order's ambassador. IF he could fine it.

A knock on the door startled him. Quickly he threw a linen cloth over the altar.

"Come in," he said in his usual gruff voice.

An elder monk opened the door. "Mr. Sebastian von Scheffel is here to speak with you, Your Eminence."

Tomasz nodded and followed the monk into his audience room.

Sebastian rose from his chair as the bald, slender man entered. He wore the same impressive wide cloak he had seen on him in the church.

"Good afternoon, sir." He said.

"Your Eminence," the monk corrected him.

"I'm sorry, Your Eminence," Sebastian said politely but not without a hint of mockery in his voice.

Tomasz nodded briefly and motioned Sebastian to sit down again. He himself took his place behind an impressive mahogany desk and folded his hands.

"What can I do for you, sir?" he asked. His voice was raspy. One look into his black, lurking eyes told Sebastian to be careful but he came straight to the point. He took out Daniel's certification from his pocket, besides a photo and handed both over.

"All I want is this. Your Eminence," he said.

Tomasz Kotomy looked at the sheet which told him in German, Italian and English that a Daniel von Falkenstein, inhabitant of town Meran, Italy, was the owner of a fragment of an altar made by Michael Pacher, supposedly the date of making: 1492.

"What shall I do with this?"

"I want it back. Daniel von Falkenstein is my cousin and I'm here to pick it up, that's all", Sebastian said friendly.

The Grand Master laughed disjointedly. "Is this a joke? Why are you coming to me with this?"

Sebastian's voice gained sharpness. "I know it is here because you took it yesterday around noon from the Teyn church. I can't believe a man of honor like you is able to steal an altar like a common thief. I'd be interested to hear the reasons."

Sebastian was fully aware of the reasons after Daniel's call. But about how the Grand Master should have knowledge of the secret of the altar - he groped in the dark.

Tomasz' eyes pierced the man with the sandy hair. So his feelings didn't fool him. There had been somebody hidden in the side naves of the church yesterday. Damn!

"I don't have to tell you that we - as the Order of the Knights of Malta - enjoying the state of ambassadors and therefore immunity, do I?" Tomasz said cold and restrained. "So every threat to come back with the police is useless."

Sebastian didn't know this and his heart sank. No chance for search warrants. Feverishly he searched for a way out. The Grand Master was waiting.

"Of course I'm aware of this," Sebastian lied firmly. "I'll take this as an admission - Eminence."

A brief smile scurried over Tomasz' haggard face. "Think what you want." He rose from his chair. "The audience is over. I wish you still a pleasant stay in Prague."

Sebastian cursed his arrogance; It wasn't that easy. Nothing was easy. But he held himself very upright while Tomasz Kotomy vanished silently into his office. If any where, the altar was there - in the Grand Master's office. Quickly Sebastian considered following him and knocking him down but he never would be able to carry the altar himself.

The monk appeared again and saw him off the premises.

He went straight away to the hotel; Ben should arrive any minute. He felt great disappointment and actually a bit of a loss. He wished Marcus was here or at least Daniel. But he couldn't leave his castle alone, could he?

He tried to make a confident face when he met Kay, Simon and Ben in a cafeteria, waiting for him. Kay was very relieved to see him undamaged.

"Did you think I'd have a boxing match with the Grand Master? Sebastian teased him. He sighed. "It doesn't look good though. We both know he has it but I have no chance. They're under immunity."

"Shit."

Simon and Ben exchanged amorous glances and this made him smile again. He bent over to Kay saying, "How about we leave the lovebirds and figuring out the problem ourselves?"

Simon's look came back from far away. "Sure," he said slowly and beamed.

"Now, do you have any idea about the altar?" Sebastian asked Kay while they ate in a small but stuffed restaurant.

"No idea except offering sex or simply break into the palace."

"Ha, and how would this work? All windows are protected with iron bars. At least the ground floor windows."

Kay tilted his head. "And what about sex?" He saw Sebastian rolling his eyes and laughed. "Ok, no sex." He pondered a while. "Would you care for it this much if you didn't know what's in it?"

Sebastian sighed. "Don't know. Yes I suppose. It's family owned and I can't stand the Grand Master's arrogance. He can't keep what's not his."

"But from the art point of view: the altar is now complete, the way it should be." Kay said to Sebastian's surprise. He took a gulp from his beer. "Quite right," he said then. "But nobody gets something from it. You see, it's just for the Grand Master's private pleasure."

"Or Daniel's."

Sebastian gave him a wary look. "On whose side are you actually?"

Kay patted his hand in comfort. "Don't worry, always on your side. I just remembered Marcus and his damn screen. He betrayed Nick for it."

"I'm not going to betray any of yours. In fact it was you who offered sex first."

"Oh my," Kay sighed, "you're complicated tonight. We still haven't a clue how to solve the problem." He paused a moment. "What about observing the house and slipping in when somebody leaves it?"

"Not bad. And then?"

Kay shrugged. "You know the way."

Sebastian sipped at his beer, aware that Kay was watching his face.

"Did you see the young man again?" Kay asked.

"Which young man?"

"The man in the church, picking up the altar."

"No." Sebastian said astonished. "What do you want from him?"

"Just a thought. He was nice looking."

"Ah, nice!" Sebastian tugged at Kay's earring then looked at his watch. "It's late, how about hitting the sack and coming back at the crack of dawn, observing?"

Kay pulled a face but nodded.

* * *

"You promised me," Simon said.

"Promised to paint you?" Ben asked, but his eyes glittered.

"Yes, I know you always carry a sketch pad with you." Simon sat upon Ben's lap and opened the hair band, and then he wrapped a long strand of Ben's thick, smooth hair around his finger.

Ben didn't have to be persuaded. Although he had been interested in having a look at the town, he wanted to be alone with Simon as soon as possible, so they hurried into the hotel, taking a pizza with them.

"If you'd let me stand up I could grab my pad," Ben said, kissing Simon. "Naked?" he asked over his shoulder.

"What else?" Simon dropped all of his clothes and sat upon the double bed. He jumped a bit until he sprawled himself upon it, grinning over his whole face. Though dimly lighted, Ben could see his penis stirring. He grinned but continued to search for his utensils.

"Have you written?" he asked.

"Yes." Suddenly Simon sat upright again. "I didn't tell you!" he exclaimed. "Sebastian's cousin found a knife and a box of hairs in the altar. I mean, he read in a letter that it is hidden in there."

"A knife and a box with hair, what's this?"

"Don't now exactly but it's supposed to be old relics from Jerusalem. Has something to do with Jesus. And there was a parchment scroll."

"And what has a knife to do with Jesus? He wasn't stabbed, was he?" Ben had found what he needed, approached Simon and shut his mouth with a kiss. He too had news about Frank and this Eduard but decided to ask him about it later. He didn't want to spoil the evening. He got to his heels and unexpectedly swallowed the head of Simon's penis. Simon gasped instantly. "What are you doing?" he asked indistinctly.

"Thought you want an exciting drawing," Ben answered after leaving the head, grinning up into Simon's face.

"Gosh, I'm excited enough, how shall I bear this the whole time, eh?"

"Your problem," Ben shrugged. "You're the one who wants to be sketched, right?" Lovingly he stroked a last time over Simon's cock and grabbed for his sketch pad and pencil. Simon reached out his hand and turned on the radio.

From the distance WHAM was playing, a soft, slow song. Simon closed his eyes and listened.

"Take me back in time maybe I can forget.

Turn a different corner and we never would have met.

Would you care?"

"Would you?" Simon mumbled.

"Huh?" Ben looked up from the sheet. He was busy giving the drawn body a soft tone and filling, catching the light, smudging with his finger. Simon had not only two dimples when he laughed but also two short ones above his butt cheeks. Lovely, he thought.

"No I've never come close in all of these years

You are the only one to stop my tears

I'm so scared of this love..."

This time Ben was listening to the music. "I am," he heard Simon say and knew he referred to the sung words.

"Would you care if we had turned a different corner?" Simon asked.

"Of course I would, Simon," Ben said gently. "What would you wish if you'd have three wishes free?"

Simon turned to his back, propping upon one elbow. "Be healthy, be healthy, be healthy." His eyes were shaded.

Ben put sheet and pencil aside, walked over to the bed and played with Simon's curls. "Don't be afraid or scared," he whispered. He took the shivering body in his arms and wasn't sure if Simon shivered from being cold or from pain. Perhaps both. Simon's skin was smooth like a cold silky bedcover, but his kisses were hot. Ben felt Simon's arousal through his clothes, felt him tugging on them until he began to undress himself. Simon jumped out of bed, pulling down Ben's jeans, the socks at last slipped off before both embraced again; Simon roaming along Ben's hair, his back, down to his butt, fondling and spreading the cheeks, into the crack, giving Ben goose bumps. Grinning, Simon removed Ben's glasses and whispered into his ear, "Let me love you."

And Ben submitted for the first time to Simon's wishes. His kiss tasted like confidence, belief and love and Ben felt his heart in flames. He had made it. Simon was open. But - he thought briefly - it carried a great responsibility with it. Ben was now responsible for Simon's happiness.

Both sank back upon the bed, Simon laying on top, pressing their dicks together, humping, rubbing, kissing, moaning, hands all around, fingers slipping into secret orifices. Ben felt stretched inside and arched his hips. He never wasted a thought of customers any more, he just reveled in the feelings Simon's body provoked, felt the gentle grip which made him flip over to his stomach, Simon's breath along his spine, between his arse cheeks, the warm tongue, wet saliva followed by slender fingers, covered in a cream fluid and shut his eyes tightly when he felt lifted to his knees, sensing the tip of Simon's condom covered cock at the entrance. He pushed back slightly, gritting his teeth at the momentary pain before it subsided instantly. Simon was bending over him, stroking Ben's hair out of his face and his erection from behind, his hot, laboured breath close to his ear. "Say you'll stay with me," he said barely audible but the words rang in Ben's mind. "Always."

Simon's cock and words stroked the right spot in him.

"Always," he answered.

Simon nibbled at his ear, lips sucking the flesh of his neck, a tongue licking the sweat, hands cupping his ass and stroking his cock in the same rhythm. Ben couldn't hold on, he broke down upon the bed cover, Simon's full weight upon him, his cock deeply buried into his bowels. They lay motionless for a while before Ben whispered, "Let me turn around please."

Simon silently obeyed his wish, pulled out and Ben could look into Simon's flushed face. He couldn't read his eyes but he thought to see some wetness in them. He lifted his head to meet Simon's swollen lips and kissed him fervently, pulling him down, lifting his legs, cupping Simon's butt. Simon followed and pushed softly. They didn't speak anymore but the silent bond was gaining strength, weight and colour.

Simon bent down to suck Ben's cock, making him purr and growl, moan and yelp until they shared an outcry of pleasure, followed by a long period of silence.

"I'm not afraid," Simon said low, burying his head in Ben's neck. Ben smiled confidently. "No," he said.

Over their heads sounded low music, another song, voices as clear as a waterfall probing their ears. Simon and Ben were separated again but clung very close to each other, heads on the same pillow, covered with the same blanket.

"You taught me to run, you taught me to fly, helped me to

free the me inside..."

Simon opened his eyes, looked into Ben's open, hazel coloured eyes. They were smiling.

"You opened my eyes, you opened the door to something I've

never known before..."

Simon bent over and kissed Ben's lips, until he giggled into his mouth. "How cheesy - but true." Ben wrapped a leg around Simon's waist.

"And your love is the music of my heart."

"Yeah," he whispered.

  

Copyright © 2011 Stefan; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Yeah, maybe a little bit cheesy, but still wonderfully good and oh so sweet. Frank is back to his old evil.

 

It's probably just me but this story and the first one as well has me thinking about The Da Vinci Code - I guess it's the treasure hunting that gives the connection, although these stories are so much better (imo), the characters more interesting and their relationships more intriguing.

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