A Promise and a Curse - 7. Chapter 7

Nicholas' eyes carefully examined Elli Schneider's face while she was sitting casually upon a stool, very upright, trying to make a straight face. Then he looked at the canvas and matched the painted face with reality. He remembered Marcus' words, telling him lately that he tried to paint a young face with old facial lines. He heard Marcus' deep voice in his ears, speaking of Wassily Kandinsky, the Russian painter and his interpretation of painting. Kandinsky, who was a qualified musician, once had said, "the color is the keyboard, the eyes are the harmonies, the soul is the piano with its many strings. The painter is the hand who plays, who strikes the key to set the soul into vibration."

Yeah, that was very true. Nicholas always felt like this whenever he took the paint brush between his fingers. So in that way he examined Elli's portrait again. It was right. The proportions were exact, the colours like living flesh, the eyes looked directly into Nick's own, sparkling and very vivid. The painting looked like Elli herself, same age, no artificial make up to make her older than she actually was. Marcus would be proud of him.

Kandinsky had used the colors in a very theoretical way. He matched the tone with a timbre of an acoustical sound, the actual color with the pitch and the saturation with volume of the sound. He claimed even to hear music while doing an inspection of colours.

So which music do you hear now? Nicholas asked himself. A perfect string of music? Harmonic because everything fits together? How about the age of a person? Does the sound become lower, dull, because the skin was old?

He felt Elli's eyes on his face. Very interesting eyes. Elli wasn't old, well, old from a 20 years old lad's point of view. Her bright red, dyed, short hair had the colour of a carrot and she wore a thin soft green negligee. Nicholas knew the painting was a birthday surprise for her husband, a business partner of Marcus.

He looked at the palette and searched for the right colour for Elli's hair which he still had to paint. And that negligee, of course. He had left that for the last sessions because it wasn't as significant as her face.

While he squeezed a little white, yellow, red and black upon his palette he thought about Kay and felt a little sadness about his departure. He and Sebastian couldn't stay any longer because Sebastian had to begin his work in Rome again.

But Kay certainly didn't move to a different planet, surely he would come back from time to time to have a check on his brother. Simon was still in permanent control and still lying in hospital, but he looked much better now and Doc Hardenberg had confirmed a furtive hope that his Hepatitis wouldn't turn into a liver cirrhosis. At least if Simon would watch the actions he placed upon himself. Nick wasn't sure about the last statement. When in heaven had Simon watched out for himself?

Shit, that colour didn't match Elli's hair tone he noticed and quickly added some more yellow. What an awful colour the woman was wearing! He watched how she lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. The long sitting must have made her tired and left her with a hurting neck.

"Is it allowed to have a look?" he heard her speaking suddenly.

He nodded. Actually he didn't like her to see the unfinished painting but, after all, she was the boss here. She stood up and walked behind him to look over his shoulder. He could feel her body heat and smelled her obtrusive perfume streaming from the neck of her negligee. More explicitly: coming from her bust.

"Marvellous" she said delighted. "You do very well, sweetheart."

Nicholas grimaced a bit hearing her calling him sweetheart. He always had that certain feeling that Elli wanted something more than just a good painting. This idea made him grin and Elli grinned with him.

"We should stop for today. I can't sit anymore." She waved with her cigarette. The smoke made gray ornaments in the air.

"Fine with me." He washed the paint brush and squeezed it carefully.

"How about a cup of tea? All those oil paints aren't smelling that fine."

Just like your perfume, Nick thought but smiled.

"Had a nice Easter together, you and Marcus?" Elli slurped her tea, stretching out her finger gracefully.

"Sure."

"I have known Marcus since he was a little boy. He was that lovely."

Nicholas had to grin. Apparently Elli was in love with Marcus too. Well, no chance for you!

"So, he was?" he said feigning interest. What was it that down-at-the heels frigate wanted to know from him?

"I followed his and Sebastian's relationship with great interest. And when they broke up I thought Marcus would get sick." Her eyes of a funny colour watched him. She bit into a cookie and chewed with relish. "I hope you two make a better pair."

Nicholas nodded. He felt very annoyed and wanted to go home. The looks from her eyes were unbearable.

"Sorry, Mrs. Schneider, but I have to go. Thanks for the tea. When shall I come back?"

"Tomorrow, as usual." She stood up and covered her breasts with the green negligie. Nicholas grabbed his utensils and walked as quickly as he could out of the house.

He found Marcus at home in his working office, signing some papers.

"Hi angel," he beamed. "How was Elli?"

Nicholas rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Don't ask me. Was she after you?"

"Huh?" Marcus looked up. "What do you mean?"

"She told me about you and Sebastian. That you were devastated when you two broke up."

"So?" Marcus closed the file and leaned back in his chair. "Never noticed that she had the hots for me." He smiled. "Perhaps she's hot for you!"

Nicholas laughed. "Heavens no." He came closer. "What were you doing?"

"Signing the contract for that shop in Friedrichstrasse. We will move our exhibition hall there. A permanent exhibition you know. All the chests, wardrobes, paintings which stood in the working hall could be transferred there."

"For all the rich business men to see."

"Right." He pulled Nicholas near to him. "Fancy a dinner in a restaurant?"

"Restaurant?" Nicholas pondered the suggestion. "Why not. Anna didn't cook?"

"Nope. I told her we would be going out."

"Ah, you always plan things for me, right?"

Marcus saw that Nicholas wasn't seriously annoyed. "Quite right. Since I have entered now the thirty-somethings, I must watch over my little boy and consider what's best for him!" He made a goofy face and Nick punched him a little. "Old geezer. I'll tell you when I discover your first white hair!"

"I wonder about Alex and his whereabouts," Nick said indistinctly while he stood in the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He still had a taste of garlic in his mouth.

Marcus turned and held the towel in front of his naked body. "Alex?"

"Yeah, Alex. He vanished and we never heard a word. Although I feared he would some day finish what he begun."

Marcus looked dismayed. "Of course. Surely enough I feared that too but there's no need to be afraid, honey." He towelled his feet. "He's in London with Karl."

Nicholas looked surprised. "In London?" Then he remembered that Alex once had been a witness to the affair between Marcus and George back in London. He came back to Berlin to tell Nick everything about it. Later he had confessed that it was he himself who pursued Nick, hit him, tried to kill him with a car.

"Yes. He's working in a tea shop near Picadilly." Marcus grinned. "The tea shop is mine."

Nicholas rinsed his mouth. "It's yours! Does he know?"

Marcus shook his head. "Nick, I know he actually belonged in jail but would it help? Karl is still friendly with him and keeps me informed. Alex isn't his old self - naturally. Perhaps he never will be again. But he isn't a murderer. His mind must have been out of control."

Nicholas said nothing and Marcus came closer. He dropped the towel and took Nick into his arms. "Can you live with it?"

"Sure." he said quietly. "I know you won't deliver him to the police. So you think he won't try it again?"

Marcus shook his head with emphasis. "I'm very sure about it." His face lit up. "Hey, have you heard about this auction in London in May?"

"Auction?" Nicholas slipped his arm around Marcus' waist and walked with him into the bedroom.

"Yes, they sell paintings of Gianni Versace's estate. There will be offered, also, all his Picasso paintings! I must go there!" He stopped. "And of course you're coming with me."

"London... Versace... Picasso..." Nicholas repeated and flopped upon the bed. "And George."

"George? For Christ sake who's George??" Marcus grinned. "I don't know any George in London."

He pulled Nicholas pants down, planted a kiss just below his navel and stretched out beside him.

"In May you say, yes" Fine, I think I'll be finished with Elli's paintings then." He bent over Marcus. "Exciting! I've never been to London. You must show me the Tower."

"The Tower. Sure." Marcus blinked a bit. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to see that Tower again. Too many nasty memories. To distract Nick and himself he asked. "What's he last medical report?"

"Ben said Simon is better every day. Perhaps the funny rows with Frank are good for his immune system. You know, it pushes him out of his lethargy."

Marcus laughed. "The funny rows? Are they playing games under the bedcovers?"

"Stupid. Ben told me that Walter-Udo is up to sue Frank for hitting him."

"I feared that."

"He already told the teaching staff although they are informed of course. Everybody was witness to their fight."

"Too stupid of Frank. He's going to lose his job."

"Ben said he wants to speak for Frank."

Marcus almost rose in his bed. "Speak for Frank?" His face was an open question.

"Well, Walt offended Frank as a faggot and that was the reason he hit him. I mean, that's a good reason, isn't it?"

"To hit him? There's no good reason to hit somebody."

"Yeah." Nicholas ws disappointed. "But sometimes you can't avoid it."

"So when Frank is having the meeting with the teaching staff, Ben wants to defend him? Seriously I can't understand. I thought Ben had reasons to hate Frank. And he certainly isn't doing it for Simon."

Nicholas sighed. "I know it sounds odd. Well, it was only a thought. Presumably he will think twice. As long as Frank is in hospital there's little they can do." He snuggled up to Marcus' warm body. A question rummaged in his brain and finally he spoke it out.

"Did you love Simon?"

Marcus opened his eyes. "Loved? I don't know. We had a lot of sex."

"That's all? A lot of sex?"

"A lot of fun. You know, he's an intelligent boy but he doesn't know much. And I was too tired for long discussions. I enjoyed being with him."

"I don't understand."

"Surely you don't. It's hard for me to explain." Marcus' eyes pierced automatically the darkness in search of Simon's portrait on the wall but it was gone. Marcus had sent it off to Simon's flat. He did want to have Nicholas for his own, not a gallery of all his former lovers. Therefore he likewise sent Sebastian's portrait to Rome.

"Marcus? Did you have sex with Sebastian while you were with Simon?"

Marcus jerked in his bed. Could the lad read his thoughts? His answer came hesitantly and very quietly. "Yes."

Nick didn't move. He lay in Marcus' arms and pondered.

"Why?"

"We couldn't live without each other."

"And now?"

"I can."

Marcus sensed that Nick couldn't understand a word. He ran his fingers through Nicholas' hair. "He's a great lover, isn't he?" he muttered.

"Yes." A whisper in the night, barely audible.

"You loved his skin, right?" Marcus asked.

"Right." Nick chuckled a bit.

"The soft down on his chest? The tight buns? The thick cock?" Marcus' voice was teasing.

Nick crawled a bit higher, felt Marcus' half hard cock and looked straight into his face. "You're still horny for him."

Both burst into laughter until Marcus rolled Nick onto his back. "I'm horny for you," he said.

He watched the face beneath him, the hair, the delicate skin. "Now you're a beautiful young man," he whispered. "You look so mature all of a sudden."

"Do I?"

Marcus nodded.

"Did Simon know you cheated with Bastian?"

"Don't know. Perhaps. I'm sure he knew." He outlined Nick's lips. "We always loved each other. Back in boarding school, you know. We were thirteen, we had a room together; we did everything together, reading, writing, learning, sleeping... showering. We came back dirty from playing football and he wanted me to wash his back. I touched him and it happened. I was in love. We were in love. That night we slept in one bed and did every night from then on for years."

"Nobody knew?"

"Nobody. Openly we behaved well, but as soon as we were alone we ripped our clothes off, sucking, licking, sleeping tight. One night Bastian wanted me to fuck him. I was scared shitless I could hurt him."

"But you didn't, right? Like me. You never hurt me."

Marcus smiled wistfully. "We were inseparable. Sixteen by now."

"Until Anna caught you one day," Nick threw in.

"Yes. That was a horrid day, but my parents could accept me after a long fight. But that day they forbade me to go back to Geneve."

"But they forgot about your brain of granite."

"Right. They parted us."

"Your parents told the school staff that you both were gay?"

"No, no. Just that it would be better to separate us. We had two single rooms now."

"And? Who was creeping to whom?"

Marcus laughed. "You know me too well. Alternating. Several times we got caught but luckily never in bed. I'm sure Peter, one of the young teachers knew about us and turned a blind eye. One night we spent outside in the mountains in a hay stable. We made love until we were sore."

Nick followed every facial expression Marcus made. "You lived together after you came back to Berlin, right? And in Sebastian's house in Rome I saw your paintings in his bedroom."

Marcus pinched Nick's butt. "What had you to do in Bastian's bedroom, eh?" Nick heard the chuckle in his voice.

"Came with the grand tour. You never should have parted" he said a bit sadly.

Marcus held him tight and showered his face with little kisses. "Shouldn't have told you this. You must get the impression I still love him. I do not." He paused. His hands glided over Nick's skin.

"Sure you do. We never forget our first love."

"So?" Marcus looked intensely into the young man's eyes. "Who was your first love?"

"You." Nick looked suddenly very vulnerable again and Marcus gave him a little kiss.

"Sebastian is a slut." Marcus said. "He can't be faithful. He can't hold his hormones under control. Look at him. The man, who could resist those eyes, lips and body is still to be born."

He still gazed into Nick's eyes. "I'm surprised that Kay can hold him that long."

"And then you met Simon. So you did fuck with Sebastian while you were with Simon. Would you do the same to me should Sebastian still live here?

"I supposed he would do the same when I was abroad." Marcus answered evasively.

"You supposed it?"

"It was my excuse to do the same."

"I see. What I don't see is that you went so wild about Simon and Rene."

"Supposing and seeing are different things."

"Did you suppose I did the same when you left me alone?"

"Perhaps. No. Not really. You see, I'm full of flaws. Don't you love me?" There was no mocking undertone.

"Can't help it." In Nick's eyes gleamed a spark. "Perfection is boring."

Marcus pulled him close. "You're perfect and in no way boring" he whispered. "You're such a bright young man, it's fun to be with you. You know - silence between me and Simon was unpleasant. Perhaps we hadn't much in common."

"But what did you see in him? Just a good fuck?"

Marcus fell silent. Probably that was the truth. He transferred his hopes for a long relationship to a young man who couldn't cope with it. Not yet. Simon was so different from Nick.

Nicholas didn't want to answer. "Did he ever tell you about his parents?"

"I know his parents, sweetheart. I know they are shallow. Struck on money, dependent upon the opinion of their so-called friends. And so was Simon's upbringing."

"But what about Kay? He's different."

"He isn't that different. He too is a careless, cheeky rascal although he could free himself from the influence of his parents to an extent. He moved into his own flat when he was barely of age. But Simon stayed there. He never owned a flat, he moved from his parents to my house."

"I see."

Marcus wanted to add "like me" but swallowed it. He was the last to complain about Simon's behavior thinking of Sebastian. They both got what they deserved. No. He really liked Simon. His carefree behaviour was a big plus for Marcus' strained ways, his restlessness, the need for someone to share his bed. And he did well.

He turned his face to Nicholas. "Would like to paint you."

"To complete your collection?"

"Baby, Sebastian's in Rome and Simon's I've sent to his flat. So there will be only you left."

"And where will it go - some day?"

"Jesus. I'm sorry for it all. You lost our innocence, your faith in me. Isn't it so?"

"Comes with growing up." Nicholas paused. "Not my faith in you. Why should I, I'm guilty as well."

Marcus smiled and stroked his cheek. "Just a full shot of your face, your beautiful violet blue eyes." He paused. "You know, there's some certain thing in you I can't touch - you're a mystery. Perhaps it's our different upbringing. Who knows, perhaps I can show it in the painting - or find it."

He kissed Nicholas' freckles.

"What do we do about your parents?"

"No, I don't want to hear this now. Ask me again tomorrow." Nicholas' eyes were heavy.

"Too bad you gave up your own flat, now we could use it. Your mother could live there. She won't accept my money, will she?"

"Of course not."

"There's still Sebastian's flat thought."

Nicholas chuckled. "Think she wouldn't approve of all those naked men in his bedroom!"

* * *

Simon couldn't sleep. He felt much better than he had in several weeks but he thought he had slept enough now. Annoyed he looked over to Frank's bed who laid apparently in heavenly peace. Surely it was the sleeping tablet the nurse gave him every evening. Simon's still was untouched in his night stand.

His thoughts went out to Ben's visit this afternoon. He came every day after his school and these were the only moments Simon was looking for. Yes. It was hard to confess it even to himself. He was looking forward to Ben's arrival. What did it mean? That he was in love with Ben? Surely he was. There wasn't a doubt. Ben treated him like he was a normal man, not sick, not ill, not doomed to an early death. Just like Oliver had done.

It was pleasant and left a warm feeling in his guts. Today Ben came into his room gleaming because Doc Hardenberg told him that he had made good progress, perhaps there wouldn't be any damages left. 'Perhaps' was a nice word to think.....

Too bad Kay's visit at his parents had been so unpleasant. He didn't wait for his father's decision and left the island without seeing them again. Simon never had thought that Kay would do this for him. Perhaps Sebastian had a good influence. But now both would be gone to Italy again and he missed him already. The telephone bill would be high....

And still he had made no decision whether to take Marcus' money or not....

He sighed loudly but Frank didn't stir in his bed. Ben must be insane to defend that moron. He said that two homosexuals must stick together when somebody is beating them no matter if with words of physically. What rubbish! Certainly Frank was man enough to look after himself and he didn't have to hit that Walt-arsehole, whoever that was. Those kind of things are to be treated in a different way, more subtle. But Frank was an impulsive man and acted before thinking. Just like he himself.

Simon wasn't sure what Nick would say to this matter. Perhaps he would be on his side, but being so friendly with Ben he might understand his intentions. And Marcus?

Over the last days he had banned the memories of Marcus. But seeing him now more often they sneaked into his brain, provoking pictures, creating feelings. Once more a flash came in a painful intensity. It was those evenings when Marcus had come back home from a trip abroad unexpectedly early.....

Simon laid on his back, feeling Rene's cock sliding in and out of him, he clenched his arse to increase the incredible feelings, his lover's breath close to his ear, drowning out the opening of the bedroom door, until he heard the hard falling of a heavy suitcase upon the floor. He jerked and opened his eyes.

He stared right into Marcus' wide open eyes, saw his expression changing from disbelief into high anger in rapid succession.

Rene released an outcry of lust before he fell down upon Simon's body who laid there motionless, his erection gone. He pushed Rene's body aside and tried to get up.

He would never forget Marcus eyes. They closed slowly, then he turned and went out of the room.

"What's the matter with you?" Rene peered into Simon's face, then to his shrunken cock. Wasn't I good?"

"Shut the fuck up, Rene, Marcus is here."

"Shit, where?" Bewildered he looked around.

Simon jumped out of bed, grabbing his clothes, dragging Rene with him. He threw him his clothes and rushed him out of the room.

When Rene had left the house he searched for Marcus and found him in the living room, holding a glass of whisky in his hand. He didn't say anything, just apparently waited for Simon to take the first step.

"Marcus," he began hesitantly and very low.

Marcus' head flung around. "Shut your mouth. What the hell do you think you're doing? I came here, looking forward to you... Yes, I missed you... How long has this been going on?"

Simon didn't know what to say. He had met Renee in a gay club some weeks ago.

"It has nothing to do with you! I... he is here because you're always absent!"

"Ah! He is here!" Marcus face flushed and he put the glass back onto the table. "And I'm absent!" he repeated Simon's words as if he would be lost for his own. "This is a reason, yes? Is it?" He raised his voice. "I thought you were different. I thought I could.... " He shook his head. "In our bed, Simon." His voice trembled dangerously. He lifted the class and emptied it.

"And now you think everything is fine again", he continued then. "Shall I go with you upstairs and do it to you? After him? God damnit! How long has this been going on, tell me."

"Well," Simon was scared. He had never seen Marcus in this condition. He never had lost his self-control before. "A few weeks," he whispered.

"Great! A few weeks! And, was the fuck good? Was it worth it? Jesus!"

He turned his back to Simon and mumbled "I think you should go now."

"Now? In the middle of the night?"

Marcus waved tiredly. "I don't care. Stay until the morning."

Simon stepped to him quickly. "But you can't throw me out... are you nuts? One fuck and you go mad? This means nothing to me!"

Marcus swirled around. "Nothing? To me it means a lot. I don't want to go through the same thing I did with Sebastian." His face was suddenly pale.

Sebastian? Simon looked suspiciously at his lover. "You still fucked with him while we were together, am I right? I know that he changes his lovers like his bedcovers. Is it this that brings you into such a rage? You think I can't be faithful, yes?"

Marcus stared into Simon's eyes but said nothing. Simon lowered his gaze to the carpet. All was empty inside of him. But perhaps in the morning Marcus would be calmed down and he could stay here. He didn't want to lose him.

Simon signed once more and shifted in his bed. He felt hot and lifted the covers.

Marcus didn't change his mind the next morning. He was an old stubborn bugger who couldn't forgive him. Simon had packed his suitcases and moved into his old room at his parent's again. Their reproaches didn't hurt him like the loss of Marcus. Oh yes, the reproaches. They never spoke about Marcus, avoided saying his name like the plague as if the not saying it would make everything unhappen. Why they never spoke to me about my homosexuality? How could Kay handle it so much better than I could? Can.....

Well, Kay lived for his own with changing lovers and boyfriends and never gave a fuck about his parents. Since he had left him alone in his parental house he had felt very alone. There was nobody he could talk with about it when he had found out at age 12 that he had the same inclination as his brother had.

At first he wasn't sure if it wasn't only curiosity because Kay did tell him so much about his feelings towards other guys. Perhaps he wanted to try it himself. Try out what Kay had tried, to realize perhaps he was disgusted by it. He failed. It had to be the truth. Simon was gay too.

He knew definitely when he had met the eyes of a boy attending the same school during sports lessons. Simon had waited for him after school and with him he had his first experience. It had been like a revelation. Now he could understand his brother and all the pretty girls with their fluttering eyelashes and growing breasts could get lost.

It went on for awhile until Sven's parents found out and told him he was too young to be wasting his life in another boy's bed. Well, at least they had spoken to their son and didn't throw him out of the house, like Simon was convinced his own parents would do as soon as they found out.

Simon drank a bit from the tea standing on the night stand.

Like Marcus. Day after day and week after week he tried to speak with him but Marcus was already gone on another trip - hell only knew where.

It had been stupid of both of them. Marcus was too hurt and too proud to run after him and Simon did it someday for the same reasons. Until the day he packed his clothes and left Berlin for another town....

Frank snored softly. It was somehow a soothing sound for Simon, so he closed his eyes and tried not to think about what happened in that town.

"Oh yes, Jo was mad about me. He paid for everything while I spent my evenings in his club, watching all the young boys dancing naked upon the stages and later on tables, saw the drooling men, grabbing for their bodies, stuffing money into their tiny jock straps and vanishing with them in the dark rooms. I watched them through a peephole from time to time in case I could learn something new.

The rest of the evenings I was waiting with a dripping cock for Jo. Jesus, I was really a randy bastard. I guess it was my attempt to forget Marcus, all the warmth I had experienced and now missed. Jo could give me a warm body but no warmth. I didn't complain. Why did I need comfort while I could have everything in the world? Looking back at the time, Ben, I'm so ashamed. I know when you read this one day you will say, go to hell. Like Oliver said and I won't blame you. How could I.

Well, as I've said before, when I had been in Hamburg and with Jo I hadn't any idea about the events to come, no clue about my infection nor about the bitter-sweet time I should share with Oliver later in my life. In Hamburg I enjoyed myself. I didn't have to touch my account because Jo paid for everything, I never wasted a thought about Berlin, Kristian, Marcus nor my parents. And - more important - I didn't cheat on Jo. I didn't want to take the risk again that he would dump me too like Marcus had. I thought he would be my own until he made a proposal that changed my life - through and through.

My first thought had been Jo was making one of his usual jokes and I didn't take it seriously, but when he introduced me to one of his guests and I saw the lustful stares checking me out I realized this hadn't been a joke at all.

The man - a dashing lawyer in suit and tie, in good shape but with erratic movements - wasn't repulsive, just the opposite. And I like the thought of being in bed with him. I would have the opportunity to live out my wildest dreams: as many men as I could cope with and this with Jo's permission. I didn't ask for the reason - well, not then."

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INTERLUDE

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"How much did he pay you for this?" The blue eyes sparkled saucy. "Or let me say - what did you get for it?" He traced out the wooden carvings, the flower ornaments in the background of Holy Mary carrying her child.

The altar stood upon a kitchen table, freed from the thick woollen blanket.

"What did he pay me?" The red lips parted to a broad grin. "Good old Giorgio is a bit too strange for my taste but he's so generous you know, said he would buy me a flat in the hills and open an account with lots of Lire." He looked up to his friend. "And you? What are you getting for your tip?"

"Not much. Well, actually I don't feel too good about that."

"Ah, come on, it's old wood." He interrupted himself. "Hey, what about selling it for our selves, eh?"

"How would this work out? We have no connections, you can't show up at an antique dealer saying: look what I just found in the attic of my house!"

"Perhaps you are right." The red lips came closer. "Well, maybe "I" should pay you then?" The lips were pressing hard upon the paler ones. The blue eyes opened widely and the lips returned the kiss, his tongue darted into the mouth of his friend until a giggle escaped. "You truly are a randy bastard, aren't you?" The answer was a firm grip around his balls, fingers exploring, checking the length of the arousal, arm around the waist and heaving him upon the kitchen table, right beside the Madonna.

He fumbled with the trousers, while his friend waited in anticipation. "You never did this before," he mumbled.

"Sshh, I know you waited for this." He buried his head between the legs, sniffing and teasing, prodding and licking until he got the prize for his efforts in his mouth. "Hmm, never thought you would taste that good." Both giggled now. "Should do this more often, amore."

"Thought Giorgio would have worn you out so much that there wouldn't be any place for me." The blue eyes looked questioning. He laid there exposed and limp upon the kitchen table, very open for the desires of his friend. Then he took his outstretched hand, jumped from the table and follow him into the bedroom. "Pah, that old geezer, he's not a turn on, you know." He sat upon the bed.

"Do you know what he will do with that altar? Keep it or sell it?" He played with the black curls of his friend and pulled him closer.

"Non mi frega. It doesn't bother me. I'll get the money and that's it."

"And I?"

The red lips grinned again. "Perhaps I'll share it with you?" He winked, pushed him on the bed and crawled upon him, shoving the shirt over his belly and snaking the tongue into the belly button. His erection strained painfully against his jeans so he tugged them down and pressed his naked abdomen into his friend's stomach. "If I would have known that you taste so good...."

"What then?"

The red, wet lips closed over the paler ones. "You talk too much, amante."