The Knife that Twists Within - 3. When you find a love

Nicholas groped for Marcus but his fingers couldn't find him on the other side of the bed. It was cold and empty. He opened his eyes and blinked several times. A bleak light seeped through the closed curtains. Nicholas sat up and looked around. It was as if he was seeing the room for the first time. It was exactly that, yesterday and the day before he had wasted no time looking at the room.

He rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. Then he heard steps on the staircase, the door swung open and Marcus entered with a big tray. He was wearing a robe and was freshly shaven. He set the tray down on the bed. Nicholas smelled freshly-brewed coffee, slightly burnt bacon and toast.

"Morning, sleepy head," Marcus said cheerfully.

"Where have you been. I don't like waking up alone."

Marcus watched in silence the young man sitting naked and sulking amidst the rumpled blankets.

"How often do you wake up with a man? By the way, I said "Good morning"."

He sat down, pulled Nicholas' chin closer and kissed him on the lips. "You don't like to wake up alone and I don't like to have breakfast in bed. So we are quits."

Nicholas began to smile. "But normally I don't have breakfast."

"You're beautiful when you smile," murmured Marcus, "but rather too thin, so I shall force you to eat something. What would you like? Scrambled eggs? Toast, bread, rolls? Sausage? Marmalade? You ate yesterday and didn't complain."

"You don't like my body?"

"Jesus, Nicholas. Why do you twist every word from my mouth? You are a tease, honey! Will you always be like this?" He looked the lad up and down, from the half erect penis to the long strands of old-gold hair hanging over his eyes.

He stretched out his hand. "Stay exactly as you are. It's a marvellous sight." He spread butter on a slice of toast, shoved it into Nicholas' mouth and gave him a plate full of scrambled egg. "I don't know if they are as good as yours yesterday, but I tried my best."

Both men ate for a while until Marcus asked, "Actually how are you feeling?"

"Great."

Marcus gazed deeply into Nicholas' eyes. "Great is not enough."

"Not enough? What do you want to hear?"

"How do you feel after your first night with a man?" He paused for a second. "This was your first night with a man, wasn't it?"

Nicholas nodded and drank some coffee.

"But there were other men or boys certainly before me . . . and him?"

Nicholas nodded again. "I'm feeling very well. Really, Marcus. I never thought . . . I never felt . . ."

"Hush. It's OK. I know what you want to say." Marcus grinned. He put the last piece of toast into his mouth, bent over and kissed Nicholas again. "Will you spend the rest of the holiday with me?"

"May I?"

"I wouldn't ask you otherwise."

"Great."

Marcus stood up and drew the curtains back. It was snowing slightly. The light fell upon some paintings hanging on the walls which Nicholas hadn't noticed before. One of them showed a young man with brown hair and a mischievous grin. He was standing against a background of Ancient Rome, stone mosaics covered the bath, pillars and marble floor. He was naked and only held a big towel in front of him. On the fourth wall opposite the window hung another one. Nicholas screwed up his eyes in recognition. He knew the enchanting smile, the look from those grey-green eyes and the sandy locks hanging down to his naked shoulders.

"Sebastian!"

Marcus turned to face the painting. "Yes. Sebastian."

Nicholas stood in front of it. "I've never noticed it before, even though I slept here for two nights."

"You were otherwise occupied," giggled Marcus watching Nicholas' arse cheeks and the subtle muscles of his back. He went across to him, wrapped his arms around him and played with his still half erect penis. It jumped literally in his palm. "Wow, I didn't know he turned you on that much."

"Is this your work?"

Marcus pressed his cheek against Nicholas'.

"Yes," he whispered, still stroking the silky skin.

"Wonderful."

"What? The painting or the man?"

"Both."

Nicholas looked at the naked upper torso which he could just see was covered in fine, fair hairs. He gazed at the thin lines made by the paint brush and followed their trace down to where it was lost in the waistband of Sebastian's jeans. The model's eyes were focused somewhere outside the painting and it gave him a rather dreamy expression which seemed in a way foreign to the man. The light fell at a tilted angle on his face so that one half was almost in darkness and emphasised the downward tilt of his strong nose. Nicholas had a liking for strong noses; it made the face full of strength and passion.

Nicholas felt Marcus' fingers stroking his cock, gliding lightly over the head and under it. He shivered and turned to kiss Marcus' ear.

"Did you sleep together yesterday?" he whispered.

He felt Marcus shake his head. Then he placed his hands on Nicholas' shoulders and looked at him seriously.

"No. We were never lovers as you would understand it. We love each other, yes that's true. I have no other words to explain it. We have known each other since childhood. And when we were making love then it was the expression of our friendship. Sebastian is pretty exhausting. For him everything is fun. And it's fun making love to him, I can tell you." He grinned. "But only fun."

Nicholas returned his grin and dragged him to the bed where he fell with him next to the tray. Butter, marmalade and the empty jug fell over.

"Oh shit!" Marcus shouted, "what a mess!"

He picked up the opened jar of marmalade and smeared some of it around Nicholas' nipple, then he crawled up on him and licked it off. The belt of his robe opened to reveal his erect cock. His fingers found a spot of the spilled marmalade on the blanket and he dropped it on Nicholas' balls. His tongue glided beneath the shaft, licked it clean and he heard Nicholas purring like a cat. Then he lifted his head and asked himself when he had last had so much fun. He pulled off his robe, stretched himself upon Nicholas' body, pressed his penis into Nicholas' crotch and rubbed them together.

"Who is the other man?" panted Nicholas between kisses, "but I'm dirty, Marcus, I only just awoke as you came up."

"Who cares? I don't. You taste good."

Nicholas lifted his legs and wrapped them around Marcus' waist. "Who is it? One of your lovers?"

"Yes." He heard Marcus' low murmur.

"My predecessor?"

"Stop asking, baby. I'll tell you later." Nicholas wriggled in his arms and groped for the softened butter which he smeared upon Marcus' cock. "I can't see why you don't like having breakfast in bed. It's very useful." Nicholas giggled.

"Jeez, two nights in my bed and you become a complete slut," said Marcus, but he grabbed a blob of butter and worked it gently into Nicholas' anus.

A half an hour later they lay close together, half asleep. Nicholas had never felt so happy in his entire life. All his problems had disappeared in one night. He lay on his side and felt Marcus' warm body behind him. He had wrapped his arms round him and his breath touched the skin of his shoulder and neck. He opened his eyes to see the oil painting of the young man. He could barely be older than him.

"Marcus, are you sleeping?"

"Hmmm."

"Who is that young man in the painting?"

Marcus stroked his hips, along his thighs and let his hand wander inside and over his limp penis. "He's gone."

"Why?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I want to know everything about you."

"It's boring to know everything, honey."

Nicholas freed himself from the embrace and turned around. "Please."

The pain in the young man's eyes was almost gone. Marcus noticed the long black eyelashes shadowing his eyes which made them darker than they actually were.

"I think he's beautiful. Why did you lose him? Besides, do you paint all your lovers?"

"You are beautiful to me, my heart."

Nicholas blushed slightly.

"Did you think I only had two lovers?" Marcus asked. He kissed the tip of Nicholas' nose. "Do you know that your hair has a golden shimmer?"

"My hair? No."

"Yes. When the light falls on it at a certain angle, it shines like gold."

Nicholas ran his fingers through it. "It's much too long. I need to go to a barber."

"You don't have to. I could do it for you."

"Is there anything you can't do?"

"Yes," said Marcus laughing. "I can't cook."

"Well, your scrambled eggs weren't that bad."

Marcus grinned. "Now, what are your plans for today?"

"Finish the painting of you. It's still only a sketch."

Marcus gave him a slap on his buttocks. "Then, what are you waiting for?"

* * * * *

The next three days of his holidays passed by like a dream for Nicholas. In that time he learnt that Marcus was a tender and attentive man. They spent their time together, got to know each other better, except for the one afternoon Marcus spent with Sebastian.

Marcus didn't wanted Sebastian to come over for reasons that weren't quite clear even to himself. He knew his old friend had a slightly overwhelming air but this was his usual habit and Marcus knew it was unintentional. Marcus didn't want Nicholas to feel uncomfortable or lose his newly-found self-confidence. He watched the young man sitting crouched in a heavy armchair, the block of sheets upon his knees, finishing his painting. While painting or drawing, nothing could disturb him, the tip of his tongue lodged in the corner of his mouth and his eyebrows a straight line over his nose where Marcus had recently discovered some tiny freckles. Nicholas had been working on the drawing now for two days and still wasn't satisfied.

Marcus had to undress again one evening and sit in the same position as he did the first time and it caused him the same arousal and pleasure afterwards.

Marcus still watched the young man over the top of his book, saw the lightly clenched soft lips and the stern expression which made him look older than usual. He mused about the slender body, now open for him so willingly as if Marcus had washed away all the hurts and bad experiences with a magical wave of his hand. He didn't know exactly if this could be good for Nicholas, to trust him so implicitly, but after all, he - Marcus - had no intention of hurting him, and Nicholas told him minor things about his feelings and all that Marcus knew about his emotions and feelings he read in his sparkling eyes.

Nicholas lifted his head and met Marcus' gaze. He smiled and slowly turned the painted sheet towards the older man, sitting in the corner of the couch, his feet on the low table. Marcus stared into his own face, saw his half closed eyes, the sharp line of light cutting his body in two halves like a knife, leaving a part of him in darkness. For Marcus it was a symbol of his own character: one part bright, friendly, loving and ready to do everything for his friends, the other, the dark side, hidden deep down in his soul: the selfish side, the slight arrogance and tongue that could hurt and make enemies. But, after all, was he so different to other humans? 'Two souls residing in my breast' - like Goethe had written... The secret was to keep the good and bad in proportion.

Marcus saw it was an excellent drawing and that Nicholas had unconsciously expressed his very being - not only the handsome exterior.

Surprised he looked at Nicholas, waiting for an answer, stood up and knelt in front of him, ignoring the painting. He planted a soft kiss on his lips and whispered "Great job, baby. You can look behind a man. What did you see?"

Nicholas smelled the now familiar scent of cinnamon and lemons and whispered back "Perhaps the man I love."

Marcus flinched and closed his eyes for a moment. What should he answer? He took one of Nicholas' hands in his and drew him from the armchair. "Come with me."

Nicholas followed excited but Marcus didn't go towards his bedroom but into another room, which he knew was Marcus' working room. A computer stood on the desk, covered with loose sheets, blocks, pens, coloured tags and books.

He motioned him to sit down and took the other chair opposite. Then he opened a thick calendar and read out loud,

"31st of December: New Years Party at the Four Seasons , 3rd of January: Exhibition at Paul's, Following week: own exhibition, End of January: meeting with Mr. Carlisle in New York, February: Meeting in Siena, visit Sebastian in Rome, few days holiday by the sea, March: auction in London, second exhibition in Berlin."

He glanced at Nicholas' face. "Shall I continue?"

Nicholas' face lit up and he exclaimed: "But I can come with you, I have never been to New York and all those other cities!"

But suddenly he shut his mouth and seemed to slump down a little in his chair.

It made Marcus' stomach lurch. In a low voice he said, "I want you to quit your job at the shopping centre and go back to the Academy. You haven't finished the course, there are many things you have to learn and there's no better education than this Academy. You know this. I cannot teach you anything. My talent is sloppy and not trained, but you...you could become perfect at it - if you want, Nick."

Again he stretched out his arm and took Nicholas' hands in his. "I know you are frightened of going back, but you don't have to be. Maybe this Frank isn't there anymore, and after all - even if he's still there -it doesn't matter. He's not worth anything as a human. I will inquire and I will pay for it. You mustn't waste your life and talent behind a counter desk, are you listening?"

Nicholas drew back his hands. His face was expressionless and a heavy sigh escaped his mouth. "You'd pay for it?" he asked doubtfully, "I don't know if I can accept. Am I your protégé then?" His voice became more firm and louder. "The same old story: a rich old man supports the promising young talent and sometimes even shares his bed with him?"

Now Marcus sighed. He bite his lips and his eyes were sinister. "Nicholas. Stop talking like this. I can't bear it. It's your life, if you're so keen to stand until you are ready to drop and sell old wives ugly underpants then do it, I don't care. You are only nine years younger than me, but with you I sometimes feel really like an old man. Now, for instance."

His voice was sharp and Nicholas flinched. But immediately Marcus regained control over himself.

"I'm sorry, baby, I don't want to hurt you. But you are old enough to know what's good for you. I know you want to go back to learn more, you have missed it and are unhappy. You'll have to learn to live with the Franks in the world, there will be probably more entering your life. Be prepared for them. Face the fact and don't ran away."

Marcus felt himself sweating. Tiny droplets appeared on his nose. "I like you, Nicholas. I like you too much to permit you to be unhappy. You can live here with me if you want to, the house is big enough, but I won't be insulted if you prefer to live your own life. And," he tried a weak smile, " I'll see if you can come with me to Italy. Why not?"

Nicholas had watched and listened attentively and now seemed a little distracted. "Do I have to decide here and now?"

Marcus shook his head. "Of course not."

"Would you be disappointed if I didn't go back?" Nicholas stared into the eyes at the other side of the desk.

"Yes, I would. But that shouldn't influence your decision. As I said, it's your life."

Nicholas rubbed at an invisible spot on his jeans. For the first time in his life he realized, what the things you do for love. When there was a man you love and want to please him with something you actually don't want to do, but nevertheless do because it would make him happy. And - would it be such a sacrifice? Marcus was right, he had missed the Academy, the crowd of the same kindred spirits, the parties they had celebrated with cheep red wine and greased slices of bread, the smell of paint, glue and turpentine filling the old, high-ceilinged rooms where he could forget what he was - a simple young man, with nothing more then his talent - and changing at the easel to a different man full of enthusiasm and with observant eyes. He wondered how he had been able to live without all this?

And Frank ... well, he was a good teacher and he would hardly rape him in front of all these other people, would he?

Nicholas believed he was now strong enough to face him. Frank was only a poor guy who would never feel what love could be. He picked up a pencil lying on the table and played with it. Then he looked at Marcus again.

"When can I go?"

Marcus had to laugh. "My, Nicholas. You are a man who makes his mind up quickly." He still laughed. "Calm down, I have to ask around first! Is that OK?"

Nicholas joined in his laughter. "Sure, but don't wait too long. I don't really like selling ugly underpants to old women!" He was serious again. "Do you really like my painting?"

Marcus nodded. "Yes. What shall we do with it?"

"Hang it on the wall!"

"Where? In the bedroom?"

"Yes, beside Simon."

Marcus lifted an eyebrow. "I don't know if that's such a good idea. Why do you think there aren't any nude paintings in this room?"

Nicholas shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know. Maybe you can't stop jerking off?"

Nicholas chuckled and Marcus had to laugh again. "No, honey because I don't want my housekeeper to pass out from the shock!"

Nicholas frowned. "Housekeeper? You mean a strange woman sneaks around here all day?"

"Not the whole day. Only for a few hours. She cleans the rooms, fills my fridge, cooks, does the laundry. That's all."

"That's all? Sounds like a full time job to me. Your house is big. We would be meeting all the time and I don't know if I like the idea."

Marcus stood up and went around the table. Then he knelt again and said, "Stop thinking about it. That can wait. Would you rather be doing all those household chores? You wouldn't have any time for the more important things anymore. Come, let's see if we can find a suitable frame for your picture."

They went up to the workshop, found a frame and hung it, as it was Nicholas' wish, next to Simon. The housekeeper wouldn't show up until the New Year and it could be left there at least until then. Nicholas stared once more at the picture of the young lad with the impish grin and the big towel he held in front of him. Only the round globes of his arse cheeks were visible, and Nicholas decided it was a marvellous view. Although he knew by now that his name was Simon, Marcus hadn't told him anymore about him and Nicholas decided not to press him further. Someday he would tell him surely. He wondered though why Simon was gone and if he had done this voluntarily. If yes, how could he leave a man like Marcus? Nicholas thought of the nights they had spent together, cuddled up in front of the fire place, where Marcus told him some of the tales belonging to the things standing in the loft. He yearned to see them again and move his fingers over the cold stone of the old emperor's faces, outlining the fine contours of the Apollo statue he loved so much.

And afterwards the remainder of the nights they spent in Marcus' bed... the thought of which made a sweet shiver run down his spine. He could drink Marcus like an everlasting source, or rather - Nicholas grinned - a spring.

He loved the taste of Marcus' semen, it was as sweet as chocolate and peppermint to him and Marcus had laughingly complained that although he would squeeze out his very soul, it made him feel like sixteen again. But then, had he not told him just now, he could make him sometimes feel like an old man? Nicholas shook his head and shrugged. His eyes wandered over Simon's body or what was visible of it. What could had happened to him? The dark eyes held reckless laughter and in his cheeks were two deep dimples.

Nicholas definitely liked this face.

* * * * *

His watch told him it was ten to twelve and he waited impatiently for his replacement. Fifteen minutes later Nicholas stepped out of the lift and went to the canteen. He wasn't very hungry, but anxious to meet Matthias and to tell him everything that had happened over the past few days. He passed the crowded counters with pieces of cake, puddings and fresh fruit, and the counters where the cooks waited to serve the ordered dishes. From the smell it seemed like fish and roast pork, cheese soufflé and potatoes.

Matthias raised an arm and seconds later Nicholas sat down in the chair opposite. Matthias gave him a broad smile and chewed on a piece of soufflé.

"Good to see you again. Aren't you eating anything? The bake is good. Here have my apple." He passed him the fruit. Nicholas took it and rubbed it on his sweatshirt. "How are you, mate? How was the holiday?" asked Nicholas and bit into the apple.

"Man, I'm dying to know how YOUR holiday was. Tell me first!"

Nicholas grinned into the glistening grey-blue eyes. "Everything you can imagine."

Matthias wrinkled his nose. "Really? Everything?"

"Everything!"

Matthias grinned without shame. "Congratulations. When are you getting married?"

Nicholas laughed. "Straight away if I could. Now, seriously, he is wonderful but it's a bit scary to see his house and the antique furniture. It all looks so precious but he doesn't care about it. He says they are just things to make life more pleasurable. I'll have to get use to it first." he said.

"And?" insisted Matthias. "What about the hot nights?"

Nicholas blushed slightly.

"Hotter than you can imagine," he whispered. Matthias giggled and put his head closer to Nicholas.

"You mean, really and truly a heavy love affair?"

Nicholas smelled the savoury smell coming from Matthias' lunch. His appetite was aroused.

"Heavy. Can I have a bite?"

Matthias picked up a piece with his fork and hold it out under Nicholas' nose. He took it and chewed. "Not bad."

"Go and get yourself one, I'll wait."

After Nicholas' return with a steaming portion of cheese bake Matthias asked, "What about Frank and your fears? Did he succeed in making you forget them?"

Nicholas swallowed down his first bite and nodded.

"Yes," he said indistinctly between chewing. "He could make me forget everything, even the arsehole Frank."

Matthias looked happy at this statement. "I'm glad for you, buddy, really glad." His voice trailed off and Nicholas was alarmed.

"Something wrong with you?" He stared at the young man eating in silence. His brows frowned above his nose.

"Hey, come on. Tell me?"

"Well, it's nothing really. I had a quarrel with Tina at the Christmas Party in the club."

"Quarrel? And you never quarrelled before, right?"

"Yeah, there's always a first time, I guess. She hasn't spoken to me for some days."

"So? It must be pretty difficult to live in one flat and not to speak to each other."

"It is, Nick, it is."

"But what was it about?"

Matthias took his time to answer. Then he said, "The party was good, you know, the music and all..."

Nicholas was impatient. "And?"

"I wanted to make it even better."

Nicholas face was a question mark.

"In what better?"

"Well, you can make it better ... tablets you know..."

Nicholas stopped chewing. "Tablets? You mean Ecstasy?" He chewed again. "Ever tried it before?"

Matthias shook his head. "I thought it couldn't do any harm, everybody takes it, so I bought two. One for me and one for her. But she didn't want to try and made a scene. I couldn't understand why. It's harmless, only a bit of fun and after some hours it's all forgotten. But she went on and on about drugs and addicts and that she hated it and she would hate me if I took such trash.... and so on."

Nicholas said nothing. Matthias looked up.

"Have you ever tried it?"

"No. I couldn't think of a reason why I should want to."

"Geez, now you start the same babbling. What's wrong with it?"

Nicholas thought for a moment. "I have heard it could be dangerous in certain circumstances. Some people had died after taking the pills."

"Yes, but it only happens because they forget the time and that they have to drink and to eat or get over excited and the circulation collapses."

"Right. And what if you too forget the time and drinking and eating? Do you think it only happens to other people and not to you?"

Matthias threw him a sinister glance. "I thought I could speak to you about it."

Nicholas dropped his fork and grabbed Matthias arm. "But you can. You have always listened to me when I had problems. Now it's my turn. It is only my opinion and maybe I'm wrong, ok?"

He stared insistently on his friend and repeated, "Ok?"

Matthias returned the look. "Yes."

Nicholas gave a sigh of relief and picked up his fork again. "So you tried it? What was it like?"

"Great! At first place nothing happened but after a little while I felt light and easy and thought I could do anything." He lowered his voice, "And I thought I could fuck forever."

Nicholas grinned. "Fuck forever, eh? And Tina?"

"She had gone home."

Nicholas couldn't quite understand why Tina was so upset. Matthias felt well obviously and nothing bad was happened. "And now?"

"Everything is all right again I guess." His face lit up. "Hey, what are you doing on New Years Evening? Want to come with us to a party?"

Nicholas frowned. "With that awful techno music? I hate it, you know."

"Come on, they won't only be playing techno. You'll enjoy it, or has your Marcus planned something special for both of you?"

"We haven't talked about it yet. I don't know. I'll tell you tomorrow, ok?"

"All right then." He put his knife and fork down on the table. "I'd like to know this Marcus, too. Must be exciting to have so much money that you don't have to work all day and can do anything you like."

"But of course he has to work. He travels around the world, almost. But I guess it's only for fun, he doesn't have to do it if he doesn't want to", he admitted. He paused for a second. "There's something else. He want me to quit my job and go back to the academy. What do you think?"

Matthias looked a moment at his friend in disbelief. "Go back to the academy? Do you want to?"

Nicholas nodded.

"What if you meet Frank again?"

"There are other teachers than Frank, and then, what if I do? I'm done with him. He can't hurt me any more."

Matthias looked thoughtful.

"Well, if you really want to, then do it! But I'll be really sad not to have you around anymore. I hope you won't forget me, will you. Does Marcus want to pay for everything?"

"Yes. But I'm not really comfortable about this."

"I can imagine. I wouldn't be either."

*

When Nicholas unlocked to his small, single-room flat, he threw his mail onto the old sideboard which stood in the little floor. He skimmed through the letters and advertisements and found nothing interesting. Behind the curtain which partitioned off the room, he looked for and found his rucksack. He stuffed all the clothes he could find, dirty or not.

In the living room, which was also his bedroom, he stood for a moment and looked around. "Too fucking depressing," he muttered.

The paper on the wall was scarcely visible, all the spare space being covered by his paintings. There were sketches of the faces of old people, hands, shoulders, forearms and muscled thighs. Watercolour paintings of a castle, of the neo-Baroque dome in the centre of the city, impressions of the river which cut through the town, with deserted bridges and a pair of lonely swans.

Nicholas removed the pins from the drawings and lifted the framed ones from the walls. He laid then all together in a pile, took his small suitcase from the top of the wardrobe and put everything in.

From the desk by the window he picked up all the pens, pencils, brushes and paint boxes and put them into his suitcase as well. Then he looked out of the window down to a square court where children would have been playing if only the weather had been better and the echoes of their high-pitched voices would have come through the window at all hours. Many nights he hadn't been able to get any sleep when drunks came home from their pub tours, bawling, shouting and puking. The police were well-known guests in these street. Above his flat an unemployed man trampled with his heavy boots on his nerves because he suffered from insomnia and stunned himself with watching porno-films, so that Nicholas could hear the lustful moanings of female voices through the thin walls.

He closed his eyes for a moment and turned to the tiny bathroom where there was only just room for a shower and grabbed his razor. Above the sink he looked into his eyes in the mirror.

"How long?" he asked himself, "how long will it last until Marcus gets tired of me?" He blinked. How could all this be happening? Which angel had guided their feet at that particular day to that particular place so that they met? To release him from all the crap he lived in... And even if it did not work out with him and Marcus, he - Nicholas - would never be the same person again. He had looked too deeply into a different world and he felt he was not doomed to spend his future life in this dark cave of a flat, in these uncongenial surroundings. There would have to be a better place...

Nicholas wiped his palm over his face and tried to smile. The books! He rushed to the living room again and put all the important books into the suitcase too. Now it was pretty heavy. He switched off the light and threw a last glance around. Maybe we will see it again sooner than I want to...

He slammed the door behind him.

One hour later Marcus opened the door and took the heavy suitcase.

"What's in it, stones?"

He carried it into the living room, sat it down, turned and pulled Nicholas to his chest. "I've missed you, honey."

Nicholas felt his warm lips on his own and kissed back. All his doubts, his frustrations fell away from him.

"Welcome home," he heard Marcus' voice near his ear. "Have you given your notice?"

Nicholas stepped back a little and looked into Marcus waiting eyes.

"Not yet."

"Why?"

"I have to be sure you really want me to stay. Do you trust me?"

Marcus looked puzzled.

"Trust? How do you mean? You think I could believe you are only here to enjoy my riches and not me?" He shook his head. "Of course I think you are here to enjoy the material things I can offer, I know that honey, otherwise you weren't so adamant in your refusal to let me accompany you home. You didn't want me to see your flat, right?"

He pushed Nicholas gently to the couch and sat beside him. "I want you to enjoy the house and I'll gladly share it with you. Now, will you give your notice tomorrow?"

Nicholas nodded.

"So what have you brought with you in this heavy suitcase? Or do you want to unpack it in private?"

"Books, paintings and clothes, no secrets."

The phone rang. Marcus stood up to answer it, while Nicholas began to open his rucksack.

"Alex, I didn't want you to call me. When will you understand me, finally?"

Startled Nicholas let fall one of his boots. Marcus voice was coldly expressionless. He had never heard him talk with like that before.

"I have no time for you and your problems at the moment. Sorry."

Nicholas still stared at Marcus' back. He could tell from his body language that he was upset. He watched how he threw the receiver back on to the rest and turned to Nicholas. His face was flushed but after some seconds his expression became relaxed again.

"Was that Alex again?"

Marcus looked at the scattered clothes lying on the carpet, ignoring his question. He thought for a moment and then said, "What do you say to us going out shopping tomorrow?"

"Shopping?" It suddenly dawned on Nicholas what he meant. He looked at his old pullovers, shirts and boots and sighed quietly.

"Ok. When I get back from work." He looked up. "You don't like these old clothes, right? Well, I don't like them either."

Marcus knelt beside him and gently lifted his chin. "Will you do me a favour and let me pay for them?"

Nicholas smiled hesitantly. "Do I have a choice?"

"You know it doesn't mean any harm, don't you."

"Yes." He gathered all his clothes and threw them back into the rucksack.

Marcus took the paintings and framed one, sat down on the carpet and looked at them. "That's the rest of them, is it?"

He seemed to be highly interested in the drawings of the parts of the body and tapped one of it. "Those are your hands, honey. I recognize them." He grinned at the young lad. "Have I ever told you I love your hands?"

Nicholas grinned back. "On the first day we met."

Marcus bent over and kissed his lips. "Have you anything planned for New Years Eve?"

"Hm, Matthias invited me."

"Ah, some hot techno party, eh?"

"I hope not. He says there are playing other sorts of music, too."

"So you want to go?"

"If you have something better to offer then I won't."

Marcus sighed. "Afraid not. Commitments. Do you remember my calendar?"

"Oh, yes. The party at the Four Seasons. Marcus nodded. "Ok, but you have to promise me to come back here after the party."

"Where else should I go?"

"Maybe you'll find some hot guy and fall in love with him instantly."

Nicholas snorted and gave him a playful punch in the ribs, then he pushed Marcus on his back and flung himself on top of him,

"You monster, you want to get rid off me, right?"

Marcus laughed. "Alright, I confess. I wanted to marry you off to someone else!"

"WHAT?" shouted Nicholas joking. "Is that what you want?"

"I want to seduce you. Will you go upstairs with me?"

"No." Nicholas pulled out Marcus shirt from his jeans and began to kiss the soft, warm skin of his belly. He nibbled cautiously at his nipples which produced a little moan of pleasure from Marcus' throat.

"I've already said I give up!" he panted, "don't torture me."

"Torture?" Nicholas lifted his head, "torture?" he repeated. Slowly he unfastened Marcus' belt and button and pulled down the zipper. Marcus lifted his backside so that Nicholas could pull down his jeans and with them his black pants in one movement.

"The torture hasn't begun yet, honey", he whispered, bent his head and planted little kisses on the limp penis before his eyes until he reached the crown and began to suck on it.

"Oh, Jesus", Marcus dug his fingers into Nicholas' hair.

Nicholas chuckled with his mouth full. He felt how Marcus' cock expanded and began to lift himself until it laid across his belly.

"How could you ever suppose I could fall in love with another man?" Nicholas murmured while his hands roamed over Marcus' thighs and his lips kissed his balls. "I'm in love with YOU."

Marcus raised himself, propped up on his elbows and watched the tip of his penis vanish into the young lad's mouth. He gently stroked the strands of hair from Nicholas' eyes.

"Kiss me," he whispered. Nicholas let the penis fall and crawled higher until he reached Marcus' face. He bent his head down until he was only a few millimetre away from the moist and red lips. Abruptly he jumped up, grabbed the hands of the confused Marcus, pulled him to his feet, turned and vanished with a boyish giggling up the staircase. Marcus wanted to follow but stumbled over his jeans round his ankles and cursed. "What a lad!" he muttered.

"Wait, I'm coming!" he shouted.

Marcus listened to Nicholas' deep and steady breathing. He lay close to him, one leg and arm resting on his own chest and legs. Marcus was tired too but he resisted the urge to sleep. He liked the closeness of the young, warm body beside him and he smelled the scent of Nicholas' hair.

By the soft glow coming from the lamps outside the window he stared at the painting of Simon. He had placed it exactly in this position so that it was often the first thing he saw when he woke up in the morning. Simon had only been one year older than Nicholas when he had stepped into his life for ... Marcus counted ... almost two years ago now.

He was the son of a rich client for whom Marcus had brought back precious old vases from the famous porcelain manufactures in Germany or directly from China. Simon had stolen his heart with almost the same speed as now Nicholas had, with one difference: the two young man were absolutely contrasts. Simon was the spoilt, cheeky, charming lad who often reduced him to despair with his hunger for life and entertainment. He wasn't interested in Art in the slightest, but instead brought a light and fire to his life - and he was an indefatigable lover, sensual and affectionate.

In the beginning he had accompanied Marcus on his travels and trips until he got bored with the snooty foreign people who solved all problems with money and then lived a carefree, shallow life where nothing else counted other than the bigger villa, the more expensive car and the most exotic holiday trip.

Someday Simon had stopped travelling with him and stayed here at home. Imperceptibly they had drifted apart, and it had hurt like hell on the occasion when he had came home to find Simon in bed with another man. Perhaps he wouldn't have been so upset if it hadn't been in this bed, but somewhere else. But to see both together, Simon's legs high in the air and the other man pumping into him, made him snap.

Nicholas shifted and murmured unintelligible words in his sleep.

Well, nobody was immune from temptation, after all Marcus himself wasn't a saint. There had been two men which whom he had whiled away his loneliness in London and Paris. He was not married to Simon and now he felt it a little difficult to understand his former extreme reaction. Why had treated he them both so badly? Was it his arrogance that made him believe he was so irresistible?

Marcus lightly stroked Nicholas' back. He didn't wanted to lose him like Simon, but he couldn't change the man he was, like the leopard he could hardly change his spots. He had to do what he had to do, and the same went for Nicholas. What had happened to him? The shy boy had lost all inhibitions when he lay in bed with him; there was a fever burning in his eyes and under his skin, as if Marcus had awakened sleeping wolves. Was it only meant for him - Marcus - or would he, like Simon, find other pleasures in foreign beds or wherever?

Suddenly he sensed that the young man in his arms was awake. The breathing was different and low.

Quietly Marcus said, "You didn't ask me about Alex?"

Surprised Nicholas moved away a little. "Why should I? You wouldn't tell me anyway." He yawned. "You never tell me about your past. The only thing I know is that your parents live in Teneriffe and I know a lot about Sebastian, but you", his voice become louder, he reared up and stared into Marcus' confused eyes, "Who are you? I know your body, but here," he tapped on the chest where he assumed his heart to be, "What happens here?"

Marcus looked hurt and didn't know what to answer.

"You told me, I could look inside a man, do you remember?" Nicholas continued. "What do I see? A tender man who is afraid to love? An abyss of arrogance shaped by birth and upbringing and the fear of being touched by the smell of poverty? You never told me about this Alex. But I know he isn't as rich as you or Sebastian, right? But rather he is poor like me, and you don't want to help him."

Marcus tried to say something, he wanted to stop the harsh, fast words stumbling out of that mouth. But then he gave up the try to interrupt him.

He liked it .... oh yes, he liked it, finally there was someone who made a point.

"OK, he screwed up, but that's no reason to kick him out on to the streets," Nicholas continued.

"He brought shame on me and the name of my family. This may mean nothing to you, but we have lost a great deal."

"No, it means nothing to me, Marcus. At least you could have give him the job in your workshop."

Marcus sighed desperately and his fingers gripped Nicholas' upper arm firmly. "What brought all this on? Calm down, honey, will you? What's happened to you all of a sudden?"

"Happened to me?" Nicholas' voice was low and soft again. "I made a decision, that's all."

"Which decision? To stay with me? To go back to the Academy? To give up your shyness? All of them?"

Marcus stared into his lover's eyes and found them glistening with something he couldn't identify and a small smile flickered across his face. Nicholas was awake. Now he was the man he wanted to be by his side.

Slowly he nodded and felt ... happy. Yes. Happy. He planted a kiss on Nicholas' forhead, stood up and went to the sideboard which he used as a desk. He lifted the cover and opened a tiny drawer. He found what he was searching for and sat down again upon the bed. Nicholas had stuffed his pillow behind his back and now sat upright between the blankets and waited. He looked at the paper Marcus held in his hand. It looked like a letter. He took it from Marcus' outstretched hand and looked questioningly but Marcus didn't said a word. So he pulled out the sheet, covered with scrawled and hurried handwriting and read,

"Dear Marcus,

Thank you for not throwing away this letter. I know you don't want to hear from me again and I'm sorry about it. Did I had a chance to explain? Was there ever anything to explain? It doesn't matter now.

Yesterday I got a call from the hospital concerning my last Aids test. It was positive. So I guess it's better for you to waste no time.

Love

Simon"

Nicholas swallowed, stared abruptly and horrified into Marcus' face.

"When was this?" his voice cracking.

"March last year."

He bent over and took the letter from Nicholas' trembling hand. Marcus' gaze found Simon's painted face. In his imagination the impish grin changed into a thin caricature of a grin; into a face and body which the wings of death had already stroked.

Then he broke the gaze and found Nicholas' eyes. He understood the silent question.

"Clean. I had two tests."

Nicholas cleared his throat. "And where is he?"

"I don't know. I couldn't find him."

"You searched for him?"

"Everywhere."

Marcus dropped his head and buried it in the palms of his hands.

"How?" Nicholas' voice was rough and barely audible. He slid near to Marcus and embraced him from behind. "How did this happen?"

Marcus' shoulders twitched.

"I don't know exactly", he answered hesitantly. "I found him in bed with another man."

"Here?" Marcus nodded. He wiped his face with the back of his hands, looked up and stared into emptiness.

"You mean he could have been infected by this man?"

"Could be, maybe it was another. I don't know what he was doing during my absence."

Nicholas took a deep breath. "You trusted him, right?"

Suddenly Marcus turned to look at the young man. "What is trust?" He looked firmly into Nicholas' eyes. "I never asked him to be faithful. I wasn't either."

Nicholas blinked.

"But to find him here was a dreadful shock, you know. 'What I don't know doesn't upset me. It could be that I realized at that moment how much I ..." He interrupted himself. "I don't know how to explain. How much I loved him? I don't know if I loved him." His voice trailed off.

"And then? You found him and..."

"...threw him out of this house, I didn't want to hear any excuses or explanations, I was too hurt."

Nicholas broke the gaze, stood up and began to dress.

Marcus eyes followed him. "You don't say anything?"

"What shall I say? You have cheated on him, too? Then you have no right to be upset. He did only what you did."

Marcus jumped up. "You mean it was my fault?"

Nicholas put on his shirt. "No, Marcus. I only wanted to say that you don't have to play the judge." He looked at the older man. "Would you be as upset if you found me with another man?"

"Come on, baby, I don't want to quarrel with you." He approached. "Do you want to sleep with another man?"

Nicholas remained silent. "Where have you looked?" he asked finally.

"Every place we were together, every club, restaurant, even his parents don't know anything. But .... that last time I didn't know exactly what he did, and where. You know I'm often away abroad."

"And you didn't take him with you?"

"At first yes. But then he got bored and wanted to stay at home."

Nicholas stopped in front of Simon's painting. His impish grin now had a new meaning. He spun around. "Would you cheat on me? In Paris, New York, London? Do I have to accompany you because I am afraid you could go with another man?" Nicholas swallowed drily. His heart beat loudly in his chest. He felt disappointment and pain.

Marcus went to him. His face was stern. "Shall I swear to you never- ending faithfulness? Nick, the world doesn't work as you want it. It's life and we are products of coincidences, encounters, meetings, perhaps fate. I cannot promise you that I will always love you. I can't promise you I will never hurt you. The same goes for you. I don't expect it from you either."

He stretched out his hand and stroked Nicholas strained face with his fingers.

"You are extraordinary, honey. I've never met anyone like you."

Nicholas flinched.

"I want you to stay. Will you?" Marcus whispered. Then he stepped forward to embrace Nicholas. "You know, I've never stopped searching for him. I don't know how long he was infected, or if his disease has already broken out. If it has, I would do anything I can for him."

Nicholas felt the warmth of Marcus' naked body and dropped his head onto his shoulder. "I'm sorry Marcus. Don't you really have the slightest idea where he could be? Maybe he's gone away, to another town?"

"That's what I thought myself. But someone can't be found if they don't want to be found."

"Did he know that you had also had other men?"

"No."

Nicholas lifted his head, stepped out of the embrace and planted a kiss on Marcus' ear. Then he went through the door downstairs.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm hungry. Aren't you?"

Marcus shook his head and felt suddenly abandoned.

The big kitchen downstairs lacked nothing that a cook's heart could desire. Everything was there, a big fridge, a deep-freezer, dishwasher, microwave. Nicholas searched in the pantry for tinned tomatoes, garlic, onions herbs, olives and opened the tin. He put the tomatoes into a sieve and began to cut the onions into little slices. Then he felt Marcus arm hugging him from behind. "Take care of your fingers, honey."

Nicholas smiled weakly. "You can cook the spaghetti if you want."

Marcus filled a saucepan with water and switched on the gas. After a while Nicholas said, "As we are now into telling your stories, you can continue with the story of Alex, OK?"

He turned to find Marcus standing at the stove and staring into the boiling water. "Hey, now you can put the spaghetti in. Is there salt in the water? Oil?"

"Huh?"

Nicholas laughed. "Salt, oil!"

"Oh, yes. I forgot."

Nicholas watched in silence and continued to cut the black olives into little pieces.

"Will you tell me or not?"

"Yes, I have to."

Marcus took a deep breath. "Alexander worked for me as a buyer of old things people wanted to sell. This time he was offered a brooch which apparently once belonged to Marie Antoinette."

"To whom?"

"Marie Antoinette. The wife of the French king Louis XV."

"Oh, yeah, hasn't that got something to do with the French revolution?"

"Yes. They were guillotined as you know. Well it sometimes happens that some old pieces come onto the market. In the confusion of those days the most precious pieces vanished to obscure places or into the hands of the servants or the common people. If they wanted to sell them it's mostly because they need money. It's now two hundred years ago and I wondered why it had taken so long. Anyway, I was of course most interested in the piece and sent Alex to Paris to inspect it, and, if it was authentic, to buy it. The offer was 78.400 Marks."

"Wow! 78 thousand Marks! That's unbelievable! You'd actually spend> that amount of money on an old brooch?"

Marcus laughed. "Baby, I didn't want the thing for myself! Can you imagine me with an old spider shaped brooch?"

"Spider shaped? I don't think I'd like that.."

"Me neither. But it doesn't matter. It's made of pure gold with a big emerald in the middle, shaped like the spider's body, and two little garnet eyes. It's very precious."

"Wouldn't it actually belong to a museum? In Paris for instance?"

"Don't be such a wimp, honey. The museums are stuffed to the ceilings, one piece more or less, who cares? Anyway, Alex went to Paris to the woman who owned the piece. She was a rich Lady, lived in a penthouse and she made a serious impression. She presented Alex with an expert assessment drawn up by an expert of French historical Goldsmiths. Well, Alex had instructions to visit Monsieur Duverell, the expert who had already worked with my parents, but Alex said afterwards that he was on holiday somewhere on the other side of the planet."

Nicholas had finished chopping and now put the onion into a pan and fried them lightly. The tomatoes followed. While he stirred the pan he asked, "So what did he do then? Bought the spider? After all, it did have an expert assessment."

"That's the point. The assessment looked very authentic, just the same as the ones usually drawn up by Monsieur Duverell."

"The piece actually had belonged to Marie Antoinette?"

"Apparently yes."

Nicholas tasted a piece spaghetti. "And?" he asked.

"He bought it and brought it here. The customer, an old client of ours, was happy to have it. However after some weeks I got a little parcel. Inside was the brooch with a disappointed note that the spider was a fake. I mean it was precious to a certain extent, the stones were genuine, but it didn't belong to the French queen; it was a piece of work made this century. Of course he wanted his money back."

"Shit." Nicholas looked at Marcus. "And then you dismissed Alex."

"Yes. There was nothing I could do for him. We lost our reputation."

He sighed. "I cannot understand why he made this mistake. I suppose he felt under pressure, because the woman threatened to sell the piece to another customer. But certainly he shouldn't have acted in this way. At least he could have called me."

He looked insistently at Nicholas. "Do you understand? I lost my belief in him. It wasn't the money."

Nicholas still stirred the sauce, added the garlic, the olives and searched for herbs.

"I understand, Marcus. But now he gives me the impression of being a desperate man. Have you never talked to him about his problems? Has he got a family?"

"Yes. A son. His wife died last year."

"You were never interested in their life?"

"Why should I? Alex earned good money here, it cannot be that bad."

Nicholas tasted the sauce and found it good. He put out two plates and ladeled them with the spaghetti. "Come now, I'm starving," he said then.

"I'm sorry that I'm loading all my troubles onto you." Marcus took Nicholas' hand and planted a wet kiss on the back. It left the tomato-red shape of his lips. Both man grinned.

"You don't have to apologize. I asked for it." Nicholas licked tomato sauce from his lips. "You told me and now they are my problems, too. It's simple enough."

Marcus looked him up and down. "You are willing to share my troubles? Simon would never never said that." He smiled. "Oh, by the way, the spaghetti is delicious! From now on you are the cook!"

Nicholas threw him an odd look.

Marcus laughed. "Joke."

* * * * *

As Nicholas left the stuffy personnel department where he had given notice, he draw a deep breath. He was now a free man and felt it in every pore of his body. A heavy burden seemed to fell from his heart. He tugged on his woollen scarf. The personnel manager had eyed him peculiarly and had asked the reasons for his sudden resignation, but Nicholas had only given evasive answers.

Slowly he went along the linoleum floored corridor, where the fluorescent lights flickered above him. He pressed the button for the lift and stepped out in the lamps department. Actually he had never felt happy in these shopping centres. He felt them to be gigantic cubes where the daylight had been squeezed out - like being inside an aquarium.

While he passed the white shelves loaded with bulbs and switches on display, the pale green worn carpets subdued his footsteps to a barely audible shuffle, but it seemed to him as if he was floating over the surface.

The department was almost empty and Matthias was nowhere to be seen. Nicholas looked at his cheap watch and noticed that the strap was almost split. At the same moment he felt a tap on his shoulder, spun around and looked into Matthias' grinning face.

"You did it?" he asked.

"Yes!" Nicholas grinned. "Just now."

Matthias looked closely at his friend. Not only was his face smiling, but there was a glow which seemed to seep out from his inner being.

"And they let you go so easily?"

Nicholas nodded. "My contract was only temporary in any case. And now," he gripped his friend by both shoulders, "I am free like a bumblebee on a clover field."

"Hm! I bet you'll soon be dying of boredom! Every day sleeping till noon, eh?"

Nick grinned. "At the moment I don't care at all! Although", his grin faded a little, "I'll have no money and my life will be completely at the whim of another man!"

"Pah!" Matthias punched him gently in the stomach, "I wouldn't waste a single thought on it, buddy. It'll work out, you'll see. He has enough money to give you everything you want. And from what you told me, he's eager to do it! I'm right aren't I?"

"Man!" Nick exclaimed, "it's so easy for you, eh? Now when are we going to meet tomorrow?"

"8 pm in front of the Moonbreaker. Don't be late. And," he narrowed his eyes, "Some day I'd like to meet this Marcus, OK?"

"Yeah, we'll see. He's waiting for me in his car outside."

"Well, then go, don't keep him waiting. I'm looking forward to tomorrow."

He watched how the tall, slender young man walked towards the escalators. It seemed him as if his feet were floating three centimetres above the ground.

Three minutes later Nicholas stepped cheerfully into Marcus' waiting black Mercedes and asked good-humouredly, "Now, where are you going to run away with me to?"

"Have you ever been to the "Galeries Lafayette?""

"Of course I have. But haven't ever bought anything."

"I can understand that," smiled Marcus.

They crossed the crowded streets leading to the avenue Unter den Linden. On the corner stood the huge dome of the big neo-baroque cathedral. Its golden crosses glistened in the beams of the setting sun, and its mirror image was reflected in the brownish toned window glass of the Republic Palace standing exactly opposite; a magnetic attraction for countless tourists. Nicholas noticed the sharp colours this building now was divided into; it made a completely different impression to the painting he had once done and which now hung in his room, and he liked it. It was a pity that he wasn't able to draw at dusk, but perhaps he could make a picture of it some day.

"Hey, how do you like the cathedral in this light?" he heard Marcus vivacious voice. He looked astonished at the man by his side.

"You're reading my thoughts!"

Marcus nodded and said "I like your painting of it, have I told you that already?"

"No, you didn't."

Marcus pretended to look worried. Then he shook his head. "Apparently I'm becoming a feeble old man!"

Nicholas laughed out loud.

"Look over there", Marcus said then. They were passing the open square in front of the Old Museum, built in the style of a Greek temple with a large granite bowl standing in front of the steps.

"About time they did the place up, I'd say. Some little trees, flower beds, a fountain perhaps, would be nice, what do you think?"

"Since when have you been interested in flower beds? Hey, look where you're going! Do you want to kill us?"

Marcus grinned his infectious grin and stroked Nick's upper thigh. He grabbed hold of his hand and played with his fingers. "Never," he murmured.

They had to stop at the traffic lights and Marcus looked at the footpath flanked by two rows of leafless lime trees, past the bronze equestrian statue of the Prussian king Frederick II to the pseudo Greek architecture of the State Opera House. A large banner flapped in the blowing wind. "Antigone," he read. "Ever been in there?"

"Where?"

"To the opera. Have you ever been in there?"

"No."

"Never saw an opera?"

Nicholas shook his head.

"Would you like to?"

"Don't know, isn't it boring?"

Marcus laughed, "Depends." He sighed then. "What traffic. Actually I hate driving, especially in the city." He watched the people rushing through the slush, all laden down with bags and parcels. Christmas illuminations still blinked in the shop windows. In the distance he could see the Brandenburg Gate.

"Haven't you got your driver's licence?"

"No."

"No?"

"Couldn't afford it."

Marcus was slightly surprised. He knew that Nick owned no car but was sure he must be able to drive. He had never realized that they are people living in a complete different world. A poor world in his opinion. He cursed himself secretly. You are a snob, Marcus, he thought. Stop acting as if the world was filled only with rich people. You must have lived on the moon, my friend.

The traffic light changed to green and Marcus turned left into the gorge of the Friedrichstrasse, passed the pretentious building of the Grand Hotel and the recently finished French Quarters with their shops and cafes.

"Do you like the new look of the street?" Marcus referred to the completely new buildings which stretched high into the now dark sky.

"A bit choking I would say, but interesting."

They drove slowly past the new big bookshop, beside brand-new cars which waited for customers in another shop.

"Yeah, interesting, that's what I feel too," said Marcus, "and exciting at the same time. The air is different here, Nick. Can you smell it? It smells like money."

"Not yet", grinned Nicholas.

The high ashlars of the Quarters 205 and 206 were lit up with long bands of light and nearby appeared the semi-circular glass building of the huge French shopping centre "Lafayette". A facade of black glass windows stretched around one corner and along the other side of the street. People rushed in and out, mostly tourists with cameras and paper bags with the "Lafayette" brand on them.

Marcus parked in a side street and both man stepped out. Nicholas sniffed. "Can't smell anything but petrol!"

"Oh, come on, there's the smell of richness certainly in the air. Think of all the money spent and earned here. See them?" He pointed to a pair of elderly men wearing black coats and carrying briefcases.

"They'll be having their dinner in 'Planet Hollywood'."

Nicholas laughed. "'Planet Hollywood'? Do you think Schwarzenegger will be there?"

Marcus turned to face the lad. "You are keen on Arni Schwarzenegger?" He grabbed Nicholas be the arm. "Let's go. Maybe you are interested in oysters?"

Nicholas had only once been in the shopping centre but it struck him in the same way as the first time. They both left behind the scarves and handbags and went straight to the huge glass cone built into the middle of the round building and stretching from the upper floor to the ground. Nicholas stood there for a while, his hands clutching firmly to the railing. Marcus rummaged in a disinterested way amongst the displayed bowls of expensive wallets until Nicholas returned. He smiled thinly.

"Can't stand the view, I get sick when I look down. Come on now."

"Funny, somehow the whole place seemed to me somewhat neglected," Marcus remarked as they stood in front of the displays made of light pine wood and examined the products.

"Neglected?" echoed Nick. To him the departments in the Galeries Lafayette still possessed an air of exclusivity. Warm light filled the broad passages which turned in a circle around the big cone and in the air hung a fresh scent. He didn't feel observed, like in some other shops, where one could barely stand without being asked by a too friendly sales clerk what one wanted.

Marcus looked over the slim boxes of underwear and searched for the suitable size.

"Yes, it's the opposite to the original house in Paris but here's even something for the cleaning woman from next door."

Nicholas looked at the tiny price label on the boxes. "You really mean your cleaning woman would buy underwear by Calvin Klein for herself?"

Marcus laughed, "By no means, my heart, he only manufactures for men."

"Wrong. Lately he created a women's underwear collection. Don't be such a snob. Is it cleaning woman not allowed to wear something chic, too?"

Marcus tucked a few boxes under his arm and shoved Nicholas the direction of the vests. He touched the soft, elastic cotton fabric and took some of them with him. Nicholas trotted beside him.

Suddenly Marcus stopped in the middle of the passage and looked remorseful.

"I'm sorry, baby. You're right, I am a snob. I vow an improvement, promise."

A few steps later he examined some trousers, carefully lined up on hangers with matching, comfortable jackets and shirts. He picked out a combination in light grey and held them momentarily in front of Nicholas' body.

"Come, take this for now and go into the cubicle. I'll come in soon after." He pointed to a row of concealed cubicles which were provided with wooden doors.

Nicholas hung the suit on the hook and sat down upon the upholstered stool. Suspiciously he eyed the jacket and touched the material. The fabric felt wonderful. Then he searched for the price label and it took his breath away. This was the half of his monthly income.

The door swung open and Marcus entered the spacious cubicle with an armful of T-Shirts and yet another suit.

"Shall I put this on?"

"Come on, don't pull such a long face, do me favour, yes? Afterwards we'll go down to the really expensive shops. And," he lifted Nicholas face, "I like the view of your naked body." He kissed his lips and helped him off with his anorak. "You'll certainly need a warm coat and a thick winter anorak. And shoes."

Nicholas sighed.

"No arguments!"

Nicholas stood and began to undress.

"This will cost a fortune!"

"So what? Well, it's a good investment."

He watched Nicholas slipped out of his jeans and held out the trouser of the suit. Nicholas put it on and enjoyed the soft fabric on his skin.

"Fits. This is made from the best worsted with a bit of elastic to keep its shape." Marcus grinned. "Slip on the jacket."

Nick peered into the mirror and saw a completely changed young man and his mood improved abruptly. He sensed Marcus behind him and their gazes met in the mirror. Marcus eyes gleamed. "The emperor's new clothes." He embraced Nicholas from behind, opened the belt and unzipped the trousers. His hand slipped into his pants and stroked Nicholas' warm meat.

"Are you crazy Marcus? Stop it", but then little moans escaped from his throat. The trousers felt to the ground and Marcus stroked still Nicholas' growing erection. "If somebody comes and catch us...", Nicholas whispered huskily.

"Ssht, nobody will come." With his palm he clasped him firmly around the balls and stroked the shaft up and down with the other. Nicholas tried to suppress his moans, and didn't quite succeed.

Marcus watched the young lad's face in the mirror soon reaching the stage of blissfulness until he felt Nicholas' body spasm and a big surge of white semen flooded into his palm. Some drops soiled Nicholas' shirt. He caught Nicholas, whose shaking legs threatened to give way.

"You are definitively crazy."

Marcus chuckled and chewed on his earlobe. "Are you ok?" he murmured. Nicholas nodded.

"What do you think about the suit? Do you like it?"

"Yes."

"Ok, then try the other things."

A half hour later they where on the escalators again, laden with bags, going downwards to the ground floor and entering a large passage full of groups of tourists. They passed slowly the shops full of antique furniture, a large shop who sold artificial flowers until they reached an atrium with a marvellous marble ground made up of black and white squares. A flight of steps led up to the second floor.

Marcus stopped in front of an elegant shop. Nicholas peered through the window into a white, almost empty room filled with precisely arranged clothes. "You don't want me to go in here, do you?"

Marcus nodded determined.

"No, Marcus, you will never get me into such a place, it's Cerruti!"

"So?" Marcus asked in a mocking voice. "Let's go in."

They had barely looked through the expensive pullovers and shirts when a sales clerk silently appeared out of nowhere. "Mr. Weidenbruch," he said, "how nice to see you again."

The young man was dressed in loose black trousers and a tight fitting white T-shirt. He wore an earring and his short hair was bleached. He raised a quizzical eyebrow to Nicholas.

"We need coats, anoraks, shoes and other pretty things you have to offer."

"Of course, Sir." He looked Nicholas up and down. "Same size as you or a size smaller?"

"One smaller."

Nicholas wanted to vanish from the face of the earth, but the young sales clerk turned out to be a very cheerful, polite lad and after some time Nicholas started relax and enjoy the attention. And in the end he didn't care at all about the bill Marcus had to pay.

"Now, was it that bad?" Marcus asked while they sat in the little restaurant on the ground floor, eating a crusty baguette and cheese and drinking white wine. Nicholas smiled and shook his head. "No. Could have been worse."

He looked over the little round tables, filled with people having a lunch, over to the large counter where fish was sold. "Didn't you promise me oysters?"

Marcus choked on his mouthful of wine and coughed. "Oysters? Well, if you really want to try.... I hate this slithery little monsters." He wiped his mouth. "Go ahead!"

The fish stand was filled with all sorts of sea food buried in ice he could imagine, some of them had names he had never heard.

"You must put lemon juice, salt and pepper on them." said Marcus as he returned with a silver plate with six oysters. Nicholas looked at the slippery white and yellow content of the oysters, did as Marcus told him and chewed at the jelly-like flesh. It had a fine, pleasant taste he found and his face lit up.

"You really like them?" asked Marcus in disbelief. Nicholas swallowed.

"Yes. I can't understand why you don't!"

Marcus shook his head. "But no more than six, my boy. Otherwise you'll land up in hospital."

"Why?"

"Protein shock."

"Oh."

Marcus looked thoughtfully at the chewing young man. "Simon liked them as much as you like them. He liked all exclusive food, but I guess it was rather because the habit belongs to the so-called upper class."

"I guess if I saved money for some years, I could also afford a tin of genuine caviar too."

Marcus smiled. "You are right. It's simply arrogance."

Nick had finished the last oyster. "And when do you offer me champagne?"

"Champagne? You could have bought some."

"It was only a joke. I don't really care for it."

He watched an old woman sitting alone at a table, eating from a steaming plate. Beside her lay several bags and a baguette, cut into two pieces, peered out of one. "Can we buy one of those?" He pointed to the woman with the bags.

"Of course. There are some delicious little black puddings, which we can also buy. I guarantee you'll like it."

Nicholas nodded. After a while he asked, "Who is Simon? When did you meet each other?"

"He's the son of an old business partner. Rich family."

"And he lived with you for how long?"

"We lived for over a year together."

"So long!"

"Long? I don't think that's all that long."

"Longer than a usual affair."

Marcus looked into his eyes. "How long did your last relationship last?"

"Relationship? I've never had what you would call a relationship."

"But there were other men before me, you told me before. Who were they?"

"A guy from school and another I met in a disco. We met a few times but then we lost touch with each other."

The restaurant gradually emptied. Marcus looked at his watch and saw it was 7:30 pm already. Time to leave.

"What's the matter with your watch, honey. I noticed while you where changing clothes that the straps loose and you'll lose it soon if you're not careful. I should had thought about it before. Shall we go and buy another?"

"Now?" Nicholas didn't like the idea. He wasn't so poor that he couldn't afford to buy a new strap or watch by himself. He shook his head. "You've done enough, Marcus. I don't want anything more. Well, only one thing," an impish grin graced his mouth, "a warm bed to cuddle up to you in."

Marcus had removed one half of his large wardrobe for Nicholas' new clothes. He hung them carefully in a line and piled up his new pullovers, shirts and underwear. There was one small box left at the bottom of one bag, which he didn't recognize. He pulled it out, opened and looked in amazement at a tiny black pair of pants whose front part was made of some translucent material. He turned it in his hand and then burst out with laughter.

"What's funny?" Marcus shouted from the bathroom.

Nicholas didn't answer. Two minutes later he appeared at the bathroom door, watched silently how Marcus cleaned his teeth until he turned.

He let his toothbrush fall as he looked at a very naked Nicholas dressed only in the tiny black see-through jock strap which left his ass cheeks uncovered and veiled his cock and balls with a delicate black shadow.

"What's this?" Marcus rinsed and wiped his mouth.

"Someone hid this in one of the bags."

"Really? Which bag?"

"Which bag?" Nicholas frowned. "I thought it was you?"

"Me? It's a very nice idea but it wasn't me. I swear."

He approached Nicholas and let run his fingers over Nicholas' skin until he reached the strap and slid his fingers over his covered penis.

"Too pretty to undress. You're looking charming."

"Yeah? And when will you paint me? To complete your collection."

Marcus looked bewildered, then he laughed and slid his palms over Nicholas' firm ass cheeks. "Soon, baby, soon."

He pushed him through the door frame into the bedroom where he fell with him onto the bed. He began to kiss Nicholas' neck and collarbone until he exclaimed, "Was it one of the Cerruti-bags?"

"What?" Nicholas panted.

"Kay. It can only be Kay who could have put this thing in."

He let his cock glide over Nicholas' crotch.

"Baby, I think you made a conquest!"

Nicholas was dumbfounded.

"What conquest? Kay? The sales clerk? You mean he could have given me such an expensive gift for nothing?"

"Wasn't there a note inside?"

Nicholas shook his head. "I'm not sure", he added. "Maybe still in the bag? Let me see." He wriggled out from under Marcus firm body.

"Stay put, you can have a look later." He grinned impudently and continued to kiss Nicholas' chest until he gave up the fight and began to melt because of Marcus' closeness.

Deep in the night Nicholas sneaked into the wardrobe and searched in the bag for a note, but there wasn't any. Feeling a bit confused he sat back on his heels and thought about the blond young man with the earring. Why he had done this? To meet him again? Nicholas nodded. Certainly. The guy wanted to meet him. Nicholas grinned weakly. Out of question, he thought. And besides, he was not his type, too many similarities to Frank, and after all...

He crept to the bedroom again, back into Marcus' sleeping arms.

* * * * *

"It's already 7:15, honey, you'll be late!"

Nicholas looked at his watch. "Shit! I will be really late. Can you give me a lift?"

"Sure."

Nicholas stood in the wardrobe and chose a black, short sleeved T-Shirt. He put in on and stuffed it into his new white jeans. Then he slipped into his new black boots and rushed into the bathroom.

"Wow! You're looking good!" Marcus said, "come here." He opened a little tube and poured out a tiny drop of jelly. He rubbed it between his palms and ran his fingers through Nicholas' hair.

"Now you're looking really cool. You'll break the hearts of all the men!"

Nicholas laughed, "All the men, eh? It's not a gay party, you know!"

He looked Marcus up and down. "What do you look like?"

Marcus wore a pair of light brown suede leather trousers with a dark red sash around his waist and a very loose white silk shirt without a collar which was open almost to his belly button. His hair competed with the lamplight. He grabbed a little black mask and pulled it over his eyes. Then he posed and threw back his head.

"Voila! Don Juan!"

"Don Juan? The lady-killer? Since when have you been after women?"

"Didn't you know that Don Juan seduced thousands of young men?"

Nicholas laughed, "No! But you're looking very sexy. I thought this would be only a nice New Years Evening party, but it looks like a fancy-dress ball!"

"It's a silly game we do every year. Now, let's go. When will you return home?"

Nicholas shrugged his shoulders.

Marcus was suddenly serious. "Watch yourself, promise me this?"

"Sure. But what can happen? Matthias is with me."

A half hour later Marcus stopped his car in front of the Moonbreaker Club. He peered through the window and saw a crowd of young people heading for a gateway which led to a second yard. A bright yellow half moon hung above the entrance.

"Look, Matthias is waiting already." Nicholas slipped out of the car and Marcus did the same. He reached the small group standing in the freezing cold of the night.

"Hi Matthias, this is Marcus."

Marcus grinned. "Ladies first." He shook Tina's hand and then Matthias'. "I've heard a lot about you. Have fun, and don't get drunk, honey."

"All right, daddy."

Nicholas got a slap on his buttocks, then Marcus nodded good bye to the others, stepped into his car and drove away.

"Wow", exclaimed Tina, "what a man." She looked at Nicholas. "Want to share him with me?"

Tina got a poke from Matthias then he turned to Nicholas, "Women", he sighed, but Nicholas saw a suppressed grin. "He's looking great!"

"That's what I said", added Tina. "Now let's go in, it's cold."

The Moonbreaker was overcrowded and greeted the little group with a breathtaking blast of hot air and an ear splitting background noise. All three got their stamp on their palms which indicated that they had already paid. Tina's carrot red hair glittered. She had squeezed into her shortest skirt and strutted along into the hall. The dance floor was full of dancers; their sweaty bodies were flooded with flashing coloured light. The air was full of stamping rhythms; unmelodious and irritating.

Nicholas' heartbeat quickened. Instinctively he grabbed for Matthias' arm. Matthias turned around, "All ok with you?" Nicholas nodded, but his knees felt a little weak. The noise was unbearable to him. "Come, we go to the bar. It's over there on the other side and a bit quieter."

"Two beers and a Bloody Mary, please", Matthias ordered. The noisy music was less to be heard here. They leaned against the wall and watched the dancing, contorted bodies. Tina rocked up and down to the rhythm with her high heeled shoes and sipped from the red drink.

"It's only the warmth in here, Nick. A few minutes and you got used to it", she said having to shout above the noise. Nicholas nodded weakly.

Abruptly the roaring drums and low, distorted computer voices stopped and the Discjockey high above the dancer's heads, screamed something unintelligible. The music changed into Popmusic of the 70s years - much more pleasant to Nick's his mistreated ears. He took a gulp from his cold beer and felt himself gradually relaxing.

"Nicholas, if I remember right?" Nicholas looked startled over his shoulder to the bar and a young, grinning man with dark, piercing eyes and bleached blond hair. He recognised him immediately as the sales clerk from Cerruti's and his face lit up.

"Kay? What are you doing here?"

"I'm here every weekend behind the bar and if it's going to be busy like today."

"You of all people!"

Kay nodded. "I live nearby."

Nicholas grinned. "Does Cerruti pay that bad?"

"Nonsense, I just enjoy being with people." He leaned over and said familiarly, "You're looking really hot in those new clothes. But I guess Cerruti is a bit overdressed for this establishment."

Nick noticed a little old scar on his right cheekbone. The golden ring gleamed in the dimmed light.

"It was you, right?"

"What was me?"

"The little parcel in one of the bags."

Kay grinned again and revealed a little gab between his front teeth.

"You like them? Are you wearing them?"

"Yes, no. In order of your questions." He took another gulp and eyed Kay coolly. "Do you always buy things for a guy you like in this way?"

"Yes! It's sort of a quirk." Kay laughed cheerfully and Nicholas couldn't be mad with him.

"Do you like it here?"

Nick grimaced. "Not especially. Too many people."

"Well it's New Years Evening after all. Hold on a minute; I'll be right back."

He rushed off to serve the orders of other people and joked with the second barkeeper. Nick stared at his little ass on which his black jeans clung seductively. On one of his upper arm he noticed a tattoo.

"Who's that?" Matthias asked and put back his empty glass on the bar.

"A sales clerk I met yesterday at our shopping spree."

"Ah! Do you fancy him?"

"Actually no. But he's nice."

Matthias nodded seriously. "You would be the biggest fool on earth to let Marcus go."

Nicholas nodded. "I know, buddy."

"Want another beer?" Kay had come back and looked now quizzically at Nicholas. "Don't you dance? Your friends are already enjoying themselves."

Nicholas shrugged. "Don't know. I'm not feeling all that relaxed in these surroundings." Longingly he thought about the silence in Marcus' house and the comfort of his arms. He sighed and wished he would be with him right now.

Kay passed him the glass of beer. "Want something to lighten your mood?"

"Huh?"

"For your mood. A little 'lightener'. Free for my friends."

"Ecstasy?"

Kay nodded. "Had one before? Want to try?"

The mind-deadening beat of the techno-roaring sat in again. Long laser fingers grabbed for the dancers, changing into white pulsating light which hurt his eyes and made him almost lose his mind. He turned towards the bar again.

"Yes, I'll give it a go. Maybe this noise will sound better then."

"It will sweetie."

He dropped a little pink pill into Nicholas' palm.

"In twenty minutes tops you'll feel much better." Nick swallowed it without hesitation and chased it with some gulps of beer. He saw Matthias waving from the dance floor.

"Have you known Marcus Weidenbruch for a long time?" Kay asked.

"No. Not a long time." Nicholas glanced at Kay's face.

"Did he ever come into the shop with another lad?"

"Another lad?" Kay asked.

"Yes, brown curly hair and merry eyes."

Kay shook his head. "No. He always came alone." His face was suddenly reserved and he avoided Nicholas' gaze.

Nicholas' had a peculiar feeling all of a sudden and he eyed the blond guy. "Would you try to find him for me? His name is Simon."

"How do you mean - find?" Kay seemed to be dismayed. "You mean you want me to ask everybody around? Why?"

"Because I want to speak to him, it's very important. You know a lot of people I suppose."

"Hm. Do you have a photo?"

"No." Something came to his mind. "But I could bring you one." He looked pleading at Kay. "Would you do this for me?"

The other man grinned "I would do almost anything for you."

"Would you?"

A heavy breathing Matthias arrived at his side pulling Tina behind him.

"Come on Nick, don't be such a spoilsport, it's fun outside. Give me another beer, please. And a glass of water."

After the next few gulps of Nick's beer something kicked in. The Laser light got brighter, changing the sweating mass of faces around him to coloured grimaces, lit up with scary effects and suddenly everything seemed to stand still - or to be retarded - frozen in their movements and Nicholas felt the urge to set it into movement again. Restlessly he jigged his feet and stepped from one leg to the other then disappeared suddenly between the people on the dance floor. Matthias and Tina looked after him in amazement.

"May I have a whisky?"

The lights reflected in the glasses of an older man with grey hair at his temples.

"Water?"

"No." While Kay poured the amber liquid into a glass he wondered if the man had lost his way.

"You're looking for someone?"

The man shook his head and drank in silence.

The next time Kay looked, the man was gone, the money laid on the bar. Maybe the jostling had chased him away.

*

Sebastian applied the lobster tongs and broke the claws with a skilful turn and gentle pressure. Marcus didn't like the crushing sound.

"Open your mouth." Sebastian shoved Marcus a piece of white meat into his mouth and smiled. "Good?" Marcus nodded. "And now a strawberry and a little sip of champagne. Still ok?"

Marcus stepped away to swallow. Then he panted, "Bastian, you are still a tempter! I've missed you!"

Sebastian approached the other man. "Truly?"

In the background a piano player soft music which filled the high, stucco- decorated room whose walls were covered with dirty-rose coloured silk wallpaper, which colour repeated in the table clothes and gracefully upholstered chairs. The dinner table was arranged in a half circle and the light of the wall lamps mirrored into countless glasses.

"But YOU are the seducer, Don Juan!"

"Ha! And you, look at you! Most fashionable dandy Oscar Wilde!" He lowered his voice, "really, you look almost like him. Only your mask is disturbing."

"So, whose idea was it?" Sebastian raised his voice to outdo the talk and laughing in the room.

"Since the first New Year's Party with Lagerfeld where he showed up as Zorro with cloak and rapier I guess," a short woman said. She leaned coolly and smoking against the carmine red curtains, wearing a zebra striped long jacket and an almost transparent shirt underneath.

"Lagerfeld as Zorro? But where did he leave his fan?" laughing answered a man in his fifties, dressed like Lawrence of Arabia. He too wore the little black mask over his eyes.

"Have I told you about my last trip to Paris to Paco Rabanne?", a skinny, tall woman with copper red and very short hair asked.

"No!" answered a choir of excited voices. "Tell us all about it!"

It was a ritual which Marcus enjoyed every time he met his friends and business partners, but this evening he found it rather stupid. He imagined what Nicholas would think of it and how he would scarcely fit in.

"He told me of his close encounter with God in a football stadium!"

She earned amused laughter. "Paco met God in a football stadium?" The sun mask of Louis XIV was shaking with laughter. "Did he tell you what God looks like?"

Angelika's face was stern. He wore a tight catsuit painted with bright red and yellow flames from her ankles up to her breasts. "Of course he did. It was a man and a woman at the same time."

"Ah!! He or she was naked?"

"Rubbish! But he could feel that this was the truth. And God told him that he - Paco - was one of the Theban priests who murdered Tutankhamun."

"Ha! Now, that's interesting!"

"Maybe it wasn't God but the devil in disguise out there in the football stadium!"

"Pah, stupid idiots! You know nothing!" Her face was flushed now and as bright red as the flames on her catsuit.

"So what!" said an eldish Mary Antoinette with a beauty spot on her upper lip, "Do you want to see what he gave me as a present for my last birthday?"

She lifted the skirt of her voluminous dress to reveal surprising slim legs and knitted straps of mink held by a riveted leather triangle.

"Wooh wooh wooh!" Sebastian screamed, climbed on a stool and waved his beige coloured jacket. "And, Ladies and Gentlemen, would you like to see what's under MY trousers?"

Shouting answered him.

Marcus shook his head grinning. He had drawn apart from the crowd into the corner of the room near the buffet and nibbled some salmon pate.

Sebastian pulled out a cigar of the pocket of his jacket and scratched the match alight on his sole. Marcus knew, how long he had practised this trick and that he tended to strip at parties, if he had drank too much.

The crowd had made a circle around him and clapped to "Big Spender" the piano player now played.

Little by little shoes, socks and shirt flung onto the parquet floor, until Sebastian turned and revealed a little bit of his buttocks by pulling down his trousers and with it his briefs.

Marcus didn't know if he should laugh or cry. He chose the first as Sebastian amidst a barrage of clapping climbed down from the stool and collected his clothes. Marcus bent down and held out his scarf he had swung negligently around his neck.

"You are incorrigible."

"Ah, and you don't drink enough!" Sebastian stuffed his cigar into the mouth of the Marquis the Sade who had showed up with whips and a heavy black leather costume.

"Probably."

"Oh, come on, what's the matter with you this evening? Yearning for sweet Nicki, eh?" For a moment Marcus looked as if he would like to strike his friend. But Sebastian didn't notice. He went to the still shouting group and lifted his glass of champagne. "Cheers", and, after a look to the wall clock he added, "only twenty minutes till new year."

Angelika pulled Marcus to her and began slowly to dance with him. "Sad today, my pretty one? Unfortunately I cannot offer you my bed to cheer you up, right?"

Marcus looked into her lurking green cat eyes. He felt her palms gliding over his buttocks and he stiffened.

"You never slept with a woman?" she whispered. Marcus felt her breasts squeezing against his chest and he tried to put some distance between him and her.

"Never, and I'm afraid I never will."

"What a pity, my dear."

"He, Angie, what are you trying to do to my best friend?" Angelika felt herself pulled away and Marcus was suddenly Sebastian's arms. "She's still trying to seduce you, eh?"

Marcus grinned. "Of course, she's been trying for years."

He looked into Sebastian grey-green eyes, felt his strong arm around his waist and his half hard cock grinding into his own. Slightly he pushed back and said, "And you? Are you yearning for your beloved Rome? Winter time without all those tourists?"

"Actually yes. Berlin is too cold."

"Even Rome has snow sometimes."

"That's not what I'm talking about. The people are cold."

"Hm. Must be the nordic weather!"

Sebastian nodded. "Tell me about Nick, how is he?"

"Fine, Bastian. Really. I was never so much in love since Simon."

His friend looked serious and tightened his grip around his waist.

"But Simon was different", added Marcus. "Nicholas is unfathomable like a deep lake, restrained, warm hearted and perceptive. He surprises me every single day. And I was thinking just now what he would think about us and these silly party and these silly people."

"So, what would he say then?"

"Plainly speaking I guess he would find it rather shitty."

Sebastian grinned. "Then he would share my opinion."

"Would he?" Marcus laughed roaring. "Oh, Bastian, you are really something!"

"Sure! Come, I'm hungry again. Have you left a bit of the salmon pate for me?"

He piled up his plate with goose liver and dropped a bit from the truffel vinaigrette on top of it. He eyed the other displayed plates and couldn't decide between roast venison with chanterelles or aubergines with mussels. Marcus took a bit of chocolate strudel with cherry pralines.

"Ten minutes to go, darling," he said, "where's your glass?"

"Take a new one."

Sebastian tasted the aubergines and found them delicious.

"Now, have you sorted out all problems with Nicki? You know what I mean."

"Yes, we did. He'd moved in with me."

"Yes?" Sebastian was genuinely amazed. "So soon? What have you done with him?"

Marcus snorted, "All you can imagine! Come don't be so stupid. He's a wonderful lover."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Like me?" he asked putting on a coquettish look.

"Like you, you slut!" Marcus giggled.

"Ten, nine, eight," the group counted down the old year.

Both man joined them and shouted loudly, "four, three, two, one, YEAH!"

A collective "Happy New Year" filled the wide room and deafened Nicholas' ears.

The screaming and shouting brought him back to reality, the effect of the little pink pill subsided slowly. He found himself among a cheering crowd, hugged by totally unknown teens and twenty-somethings. Balloons felt from the ceiling, together with confetti and spangles which glued in his hair and eyelashes. He shook off the laughing people and tried to reach the edge of the dance floor. He definitely needed something to drink and then he had to find Matthias and Tina. The disc jockey roared into his microphone, repeating only one sentence like a broken record "Happy New Year, Happy New Year" and the cheering crowd answered. The biggest part of them flooded to the exit to watch the fireworks.

With a big effort he reached the bar where Kay was busy filling glasses and taking the money.

"Can I have some mineral water?"

Kay looked up and said "Back to earth, sweetie? From what I can see you enjoyed the flight."

Nicholas' hair was glued to his forehead and his T-Shirt was damp with sweat. He wiped his flushed face with his hand and swallowed the cold water. Kay quickly put his hand on Nicholas' arm. "Slow down, don't drink so fast, you'll get sick." It was too late, the glass was empty.

"What do I owe you?"

Kay shook his head. "Nothing I'll take care of that. It's on the house. By the way, your friends are outside to watch the fireworks." He grinned. "Happy New Year."

"What? Oh yes, the same to you." He want to turn and follow his friends but Kay said, "I should stay in, sweetie. It's cold and you are sweating."

Nicholas propped himself in front of the bar. "Why do I have the feeling you're acting like my mother?" he ask half laughing.

"Come on, be nice. Your friends will soon show up again."

Nicholas nodded. "Ok. I'll have a piss."

He disappeared through one of the doors leading to the toilets. The room was empty and smelled sharp like air fresher. Everybody must be outside, he tought as he stepped to the urinal and opened his trousers.

As he has finished he looked at himself in the mirror over the sinks, scooped water into his palms and rinsed his face. "Happy New Year, Marcus", he whispered. He was determined to go home as soon as possible. He yearned for his lover.

There was still nobody to be seen as he opened the door to the dance floor but he suddenly sensed someone behind him. As he was about to turn round to see who it was he felt a cloth pressed over his nose and mouth and he breathed in a sweet sickly smell. He tried to break free, waved wildly with his arms and tried to scream, but the grip on his head, his hair and around his chest from behind was unyielding. Nicholas felt himself slowly losing consciousness and doubled his efforts.

Suddenly the door to the hall flung open and a crowd of half drunken people flooded in. They saw what was happening and stood in amazement for a moment. Then a young man dashed forward to the attacker and Nicholas felt the grip loosen; the cloth disappeared from his face and he fell hard on the floor. His head hit the tiles.

"There he is", the young man shouted. He rushed after the other who tried to escape, opening another door leading to the rear exit and both disappeared into the night.

"Hey, lad," a woman bent over Nicholas, "are you hurt?"

"He's unconscious."

"Someone call a doctor!"

"Who was this asshole?" Matthias peered in to see what was going on and went pale when he saw Nicholas laying apparently lifeless on the cold floor.

"What's wrong with him?" He kneeled beside him and rubbed his cheeks. "Nick? Can you hear me?"

Despairingly he looked up to the others. "Has anyone called the ambulance?"

He jumped up. The man who had followed the attacker came back alone and panted heavily. "He was gone. I couldn't see him anymore. I guess he was simply after his wallet."

Matthias rushed through the door to the bar where Kay had already called for the ambulance. "Do you know the number of the 'Four Seasons'? Can you call Marcus?"

"Sure. Just a moment." He searched through the telephone book and finally found the right number. "What was happened? Can you tell me?"

Matthias shook his head. Kay dialled the number and waited.

The servant came with an extension phone to Marcus who was still standing on the terrace watching the fireworks on the frosty and clear sky. He looked questioning and took it.

Sebastian watched his friend and saw his dark complexion pale as the blood drained from it. Immediately he was at his side.

"What's the matter?" he asked as Marcus finished.

"Nicholas. He," he cleared his throat, "there was an accident or something. He's hurt. I must go to him. Now." Without a word he left Sebastian standing there and searched for his coat.

Sebastian followed him out. "But you can't drive, you've been drinking."

"Bullshit, I'm not drunk."

"I'll come with you."

After a wild drive through the night and deserted streets Marcus and Sebastian reached the 'Moonbreaker' to find Nicholas laying in one of the offices on a couch.

The doctor had just finished his examination, had found some minor abrasions but all the same recommended an overnight stay in the hospital.

Nicholas saw Marcus enter and tried to smile. He was relatively ok by now, only his head hurt at bit.

"Baby, what have you been doing? What's happened?" Marcus sat on the couch and held his hand. Sebastian stood beside them.

Nicholas blinked a few times. "I don't know. I can't remember exactly, but there was a man." His voice was low. "He was behind me in the toilet and suddenly there was a cloth over my face and he was trying to drag me outside."

Marcus looked up to his friend who shook his head as if he still didn't understand.

"Can you walk?"

"I'll try."

Cautiously he sat up and put his feet on the floor. He was slightly dizzy but he could handle it. Marcus helped him to get up. Then he looked at the doctor waiting at the door, "Can we go with him in the ambulance?"

"Of course you can."

"We'll take a taxi to the hospital" a voice came from the door where Matthias stood.

They drove in silence. Marcus continued to hold Nicholas' hand and watched his pale face. He cursed himself for having let him go to this shitty rave, but then thought that something like this could happen in any location; some bugger who was obviously after Nicholas' wallet. But did this make sense? How much money could a 20 years old lad have with him? Would it be worth it to take such a risk? Marcus suddenly flushed with anger. Nicholas had spoken about a cloth which was held in front of his face. This meant that it was probably impregnated with an anaesthetic and the explanation surely that this must have been a premeditated assault. But who on earth could have an interest in attacking Nicholas? And what reason could he have had? He sighed. This made no sense after all.

"You didn't see him, did you?"

Nicholas shook his head. "What impression did you get? Was it a young man or an old?"

"I don't know. I lost consciousness but maybe Matthias will know more."

Yes, this was something to hold on to.

Matthias and Tina were already waiting in front of the hospital as the ambulance arrived. Nicholas was led into an examination room where he was prepared for a ECG scan to find out if he had a concussion. His friends waited in the Casualty Department. While they sat and waited several people arrived, some with wounds on hands, arms and heads, the usual New Years Eve accidents Marcus thought.

He bend over to Matthias and asked him. "You haven't any clue as to what was going on, have you?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I wasn't there when it happened. Though there was a crowd around helping him and one guy was chasing the man who assaulted Nick, but he lost him outside. He said it might had been some mugger but this makes no sense to me."

Marcus nodded. "But did he say how the man looked like?"

"No. I asked several people but everybody had a different description. I mean, it all happened so fast... I remember the guy said that the attacker was wearing glasses."

"Put them all together and take the average and maybe we'll get the right description", Sebastian offered and got a sharp look from Marcus.

"Sorry", Sebastian said and leaned his head against the cold green painted wall. His head hurt and he tried to shake off the buzz.

"Was there any incident that could have led up to this, Matthias?" Marcus insisted. "A quarrel or something?"

"No. Not that I know of. Although," he paused, "Nick was suddenly a bit strange, he disappeared into the crowd at the dance floor and we were surprised as he refused to dance before. We wondered what suddenly made him change his mind. I mean, he didn't enjoy the loud music and all of a sudden he..."

Matthias looked at Marcus. "Kay said later he had given him drugs. I mean an Ecstasy tablet. It was supposed to make him feel more relaxed, and it doesn't do any harm. I take them myself and I always feel great afterwards."

Marcus patted his shoulder. "It's ok, no need for excuses. You're not his big brother to watch over him. I guess it hasn't anything to do with this pill. But maybe something wrong was happened on the dance floor, but Nicholas told about a cloth which was pressed over his face, so it looks like a planned kidnapping to me. But what's the meaning of it?"

The door opened and Nicholas stepped out with a nurse. "The young man has to stay here overnight. We already have a room prepared for him. There's no need for you to stay here all night long though."

Marcus jumped up.

"But everything's ok with him?"

"As far as we can see, yes."

"I want to stay here."

"As you like. There's a second bed in the room."

Marcus turned to his friend and Matthias. "Thanks for the support. But I guess it's all right now for you to leave. Sleep off your tipsiness, Bastian and you", he looked at Matthias and Tina, "I give you a call tomorrow, ok?"

Marcus kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the hospital bed next to Nicholas. He crossed his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling.

"How was your party?" he heard Nicholas' low voice. Surprised, he peered over to the lad laying in a similar position.

"Not as half as exciting as yours I assume. I've heard you had a little ecstasy flight?"

"Yes. But I don't care much about it. Only thing was I could stand the music better."

Marcus grinned thinly. "You met Kay again? I didn't know he worked there, too."

"Yes, it was a surprise. By the way, the pants were his gift."

"I guessed as much. Will you be seeing him again?"

Nicholas propped himself on his elbows and looked over to the next bed.

"Why do you think that? Only if you drag me into the shop again."

"I had a feeling you enjoyed it."

"Yes, but not only because of Kay!"

"Ah!" Marcus grinned.

"I hate hospitals", Nicholas said after a while.

"Who doesn't?"

"Couldn't you come over to me?"

"In your bed? Do you think that would be a good idea? Try to sleep. You must be tired."

"I'm not tired at all. I can't sleep here, it smells like disinfectant, everything smells bad here."

"Except me, I guess", grinned Marcus.

"Except you."

Marcus sighed. "You still have no idea what the reason could be for this man to attack you?"

"No, I haven't. I don't want to think about it anymore. My head hurts."

"That's another reason you should try to sleep."

Nicholas didn't answer. Marcus rose and slipped out of his bed. He bent over Nicholas and kissed his lips. "Better?" He asked. Nicholas shook his head. His hand slipped into the waistband of Marcus' suede trousers and pulled out his white shirt. His fingers glided over his bare skin and pulled him nearer until Marcus lay half over his bed. With a sigh he gave in and stretched out beside Nicholas' body. The bed was too small, but Nicholas cuddled close into his arms and laid his head on his chest. Barely audible he began to purr like a kitten and was soon asleep.

The noises of the hospital woke Marcus seemingly in the middle of the night. He tried to see the time on his watch but it was too dark to see, but it must be a little while before the usual breakfast time which was, as Marcus knew, about 6:30 am. He freed his arm from Nicholas' head and rubbed it to shake off the numbness, sneaked out of the bed and crept into his own. No need to confuse the nurse.

It was no minute too soon. The door swung open and dazzling light flooded into the room. "Good Morning" said the nurse cheerfully. Nicholas' eyelashes fluttered open. He looked around and finally into the brown eyes of the white-dressed woman.

"How have we slept?" she asked.

Marcus replied, "I don't know how you have slept, but I slept terrible. This bed is really uncomfortable."

The nurse gave Marcus a look but didn't respond. She stuffed a thermometer into Nicholas' mouth. "And how have you slept? Does you head still ache?"

Nicholas shook his head.

"We have to do a few tests after the breakfast, then you'll be able to go home, I expect."

She removed the thermometer, looked at it and was apparently satisfied. After a short glance at Marcus she left the room. He bent over to the next bed.

"How did you really sleep, darling?"

"Fine."

"Hungry?"

"No."

"I'm not keen on this breakfast, either."

Marcus leaned back and sighed heavy. "What a beginning of the new year!"

Nicholas chuckled. "Yeah, what a beginning! Surely it can only get better."

As both men entered Marcus' house they found Sebastian sleeping on the couch in the living room. A little surprised, Marcus shook his shoulder.

"Hey baby, what you doing here? Waiting for us?"

Sebastian opened his eyes wide and jumped up. He looked at both of them.

"Calm down, everything is ok now," said Marcus.

"Really?"

Nicholas was more than amazed to find him here. His sandy hair was dishevelled and the white shirt completely creased. Nicholas found it lovely and he lost some of the shyness he always felt when Sebastian was around. Sebastian rubbed his eyes and gazed at Nicholas. "You are really ok?"

"Yes."

"It's really sweet of you that you waited for us", Marcus said. "You must be really hungry, aren't you? Coffee? Toast?"

Sebastian yawned. "Let me have a quick shower, then I will make you something to eat."

Marcus whispered into the young man's ear, "What about you joining me under the shower?"

Nicholas grinned.

Sebastian had plundered the pantry and covered the table in the dining room with freshly baked rolls, eggs and bacon, rollmop and gherkins, with steaming black pudding, tomatoes, cheese, juice, milk and hot coffee.

"If I would live with you, I would become fat like a pig", Marcus said, chewing with full mouth.

Sebastian grinned and winked at Nicholas. He was wearing one of Marcus' old pullovers and jeans, was unshaven and looked suddenly very young. He had lost all those intimidating attitudes, Nicholas had always been a little bit scared of.

"I too can cook the whole day until you are fat as a pig", Nicholas grinned back at Sebastian. "Tell me the recipe of the black pudding, please."

"Ah! A pair of housewives chatting over the garden wall!"

Sebastian threw his napkin at Marcus grinning face. "Let him tease, Nicki. If he's starving he'll come creeping on his hands and knees and will beg for some food. Believe me."

"I wouldn't bet my ass on that. There's always his housekeeper."

"Housekeeper? Ah yes, the redoubtable Anna! She's an old lady, perhaps she'll like you more than she likes me."

"She doesn't like you? Why?"

"It's a long story." Sebastian's face was reserved.

"You'll see, honey," Marcus said. "She comes on Sundays at 10 am."

"That early? We won't be able to sleep in anymore!"

"Alas! That'll seem likely to develop into a real problem, my dear." Sebastian looked into his friends' eyes. "You'll have to have a talk with her." Then he bent over to Nicholas again. "Are you get over it?"

Nicholas nodded. "Yes, somewhat."

"Do you want to report it to the police?"

Marcus shrugged his shoulders. "Would you?"

"Don't know if it'll be any use, but what if there are any further injuries to Nick."

"But everything's ok with my head."

"Yes, honey, all is ok.' Marcus threw a warning gaze to Sebstian to shut his mouth.

"As you like it." Sebastian rolled out the gherkin off his rollmop and picked it up. He changed the subject. "Sunday at Paul's exhibition - will you join us?"

"But of course, I've never been to an exhibition. Who's Paul actually?"

"An inventor of curious things. He has his workshop in an old stable out in the suburbs. He had extended it to one big living room and workshop at the same time. He welds odd things together, painted them and also carves very interesting masks out of tree stumps."

"I like masks," Nicholas said, "and he can make a living doing this?"

"Actually not very easily. Therefore he's having this exhibition."

Sebastian took a last gulp from his coffee and said, "Well, I don't know about you folks, but I'm still dog tired. I'll disappear off home."

He grinned impish, "Or would you like to come back to my place, Nicki?"

"Would you mind if I went with him?" Nicholas asked his lover.

"Do you really want an answer to that question? I hope this is a joke!"

Sebastian stood up. "Can I ring for a taxi?"

As he finally left he turned around and said, "Sunday, 7 am. There's still a lot to do." He looked at Nicholas for a moment and whispered, "It wasn't a joke."

Sebastian closed the door.

Nicholas didn't know what to answer so he remained silent. Then he searched for Marcus' eyes but he avoided his gaze. Finally he asked, "So early? 7 am?"

"We have to build it up, put all the exhibits in the right places. You don't have to come with us if you don't want to. You can stay here or come later. It's in the hall next to the workshop. Come, let us put all this stuff in the dishwasher."

"I want to go with you." He stepped to Marcus side and touched his upper arm. "Something wrong?"

"No, my heart. Everything is ok."

"You are not cross with Sebastian?"

"Sure I am. He has a damn big mouth."

"Maybe he's in love with me", Nicholas grinned.

"Yeah, everybody's in love with you!", Marcus snorted, "you are irresistible!" He grabbed for Nicholas' buttocks, but he escaped and chuckled. "You really think so? And you, are you in love with me?"

Marcus stared at the raised eyebrows, waited for an answer and tried to catch him, but Nicholas was quicker. He ran around the table and out of the room into the kitchen. Marcus followed him and cornered him between door and pantry. He searched for his lips and whispered, "But of course I am, honey. Don't you feel it?"

"Show me," Nicholas' whispered huskily. He pressed his body to Marcus' and felt the other man began undress him. "Do you want to take the butter with us again?" he murmured.

Nicholas was worn out and his ass hurt a bit, but it was a more pleasant little pain. He lay on his stomach and leafed through a book about the architecture of the Victorian age. He felt Marcus heavy body across his back and heard him snoring softly. Actually he wasn't too much interested in the book, but he needed something to disract his mind. Too much had happened in the last few days. Too many new faces, too many impressions. And the last one, the attack at the "Moonbreaker" still stuck in his memory. But he had decided, to take it as it was: a simple attempt at robbery, perhaps of a very nervous, and not practised beginner who wanted to be sure that Nicholas wouldn't be able to offer any resistance.

But more important were Sebastian's last words and the gaze in his eyes. He didn't know what to think about it. Was it one of his usual jokes or was there something serious behind? He hadn't got an answer from Marcus when he had asked him, so he had to figure it out by himself.

He closed the book, laid his head on his forearms and enjoyed the warmth of Marcus' body. The last thought he remembered before he fell asleep was that he must take a photo of Simon's painting to give it to Kay.

Paul's Exhibition had been a completely success. The workshop was full of people and Nicholas had met some of Marcus' and Sebastian's acquaintances. Marcus had sensed Nicholas didn't really like these people, but he felt comfortable with Paul. Afterwards they sat together in the exhibition room, drank wine and ate pizza, Johannes, the old restorer, had ordered.

Paul, a man of 55 years with round, thin glasses and a bald head, was happy because he had sold nearly all of his exhibits to rich clients where they would now decorate the front gardens or houses. Nicholas was fascinated by a wooden mask which had similarity to those Venetian masks with feathers and glass stones and silver pearls. It was shaped to represent the face of a young man, with a narrow nose and arrogant, thin lips. The eye slits were framed with a coal pen and tiny silver glitter. From a distance it was almost impossible for anyone to see that this was a mask carved from of a piece of wood. The chisel and the knife had fashioned it so delicately and Nicholas had fallen in love into this piece of work right from the first time he had seen it. As they came home, very tired, they found the fridge freshly filled with delicious things and Anna had cooked a goulash soup which both men pounced upon.

"You see, such a housekeeper is a wonderful thing, don't you think?"

"Yeah, sometimes. Will she be coming tomorrow at 10?"

"No. Day after tomorrow. I don't need her every day. Come, eat faster, I want to feel your body next to mine."

As Marcus let fall a squeaking Nicholas onto the blankets of the bed he felt something hard under them. As Nicholas pulled the blankets up he found Paul's mask and emitted a little cry. "The mask! You bought it?"

"Sure, I saw your eyes. And I had to do something to compete with Kay's gift!"

"Pah, Kay! This here is hundred times more wonderful!"

He marvelled over the soft surface by gliding his fingertips over the wooden cheeks and cleft chin. Marcus lay beside him and watched. "Where will you hang it up?"

"Right there, under your painting. So I can... Shit!"

"What shit?"

"We forgot to take down the painting of you and your housekeeper will have seen all of you!"

Marcus was taken aback for a moment, but then he laughed. "Ah, baby, don't worry about it. She knows me since I was a baby, so it's no problem, I guess. Let it hang."

He took the mask from Nicholas' hands and passed his palm over his bare skin.

"Are you happy now?" he whispered. There was no need for Nicholas to answer, his eyes told all. "I have made inquiries. You can start the Academy in two weeks, if you want."

"I can? There are free places? Or have you used your influence?'

"No, honey. Truly. Although," he paused, "this Frank is still there. I'm not sure but I believe I saw him in the office. Almost white hair, right?"

Nicholas nodded. Well this wasn't exactly good news but then, he didn't care a fuck about Frank now. If he ever met him, he would laugh into his shitty face.

"Alright then?"

"Yes."

He leaned over Marcus and began to kiss his lips, probing his tongue into Marcus' mouth until both panted for air. Marcus felt Nicholas' hardness on his own belly and began to stroke it.

"Marcus?" Nicholas head was buried into Marcus' hair, and very close to his ear. "Have you ever... I mean were you, did you..."

Marcus laughed and pulled his head to him. "What have I ever?"

Nicholas swallowed. "Were you ever the bottom?"

Marcus eyes lit up. "Ah! You want to be the top! What a surprise! I thought you would never ask." He planted a soft kiss on his nose.

"It's long time ago, only with Sebastian. Simon never wanted to be a top."

He gazed into the blue eyes. "And now? Do you want..."

Nicholas shook quickly his head. "Not yet. Not today. Later, ok?"

"Anytime you want."

His wet finger found and penetrated gently Nicholas' hot hole; the young man moaned and wiggled his ass. Again and again he thought about how different now his life was and wondered what this would eventually lead to? To a steady relationship or was he only a part-time lover till the next young pretty man?

He felt himself laid on his back and Marcus' soft lips between his legs, under his balls, wetting the sensitive trail that leads to his hole until his tongue entered and made his skilful dance in- and outside. Nicholas shivered and made funny noises which caused Marcus to giggle. He removed his tongue and replaced it with a finger while he nibbled on Nicholas' very hard shaft.

"But did you enjoy it?" Marcus heard Nicholas' soft voice. He let slip his penis from his mouth and it flapped loudly on his belly. "What did I enjoy? Being a bottom?"

He licked again over the slit and with it the oozing fluid.

"But of course I've enjoyed it. Sebastian is a wonderful lover. I told you already."

Shit, he thought to himself, you shouldn't have said that! Maybe Nick want to find out himself some day. He removed his fingers, sat in position and pushed a little. His cock glided without any obstacle into and Marcus stretched out on Nicholas' relaxed body. His eyes were half closed and there was a smile on his lips. He remained motionless for a while, until Nicholas opened his eyes again.

"I never had thought..." his voice was hardly audible. Marcus remained silent. He began to move, cautiously, gently. "that it could be so wonderful...."

Marcus smiled and continued his movements. "But you don't know how exciting it is to lay on top of you, sweetheart."

Nicholas purred again like a cat. "You must show me..."

This were the last intelligible word Marcus could understand because the blood was rushing through his ears and deleted all other noises except the hissing and panting of his lover's voice. He couldn't remember if loving a man had ever been so pleasant than with Nicholas, but he couldn't find the reason for it. Nicholas' face changed briefly into Sebastian’s flushed face laying under him or the look of Simon's back arching against him, sweating, swelling and climaxing...

Nicholas lowered his legs until they lay around Marcus' waist and stopped his subsiding cock slipping out of his hole. Marcus fell on top of him and he knew that they would glue together soon but he didn't mind.

Nicholas' eyes were firmly closed as he felt asleep. "I love you", was all Marcus heard before he entered dreamland himself.

 

* * * * *

The black and white marble tiles shone as if they had been freshly polished as Nicholas was on his way to see Kay. He pulled off his gloves with his teeth, stuffed them into the pockets of his heavy brown leather jacket and went upstairs. As he peered through the shop window he saw Kay serving a smartly dressed man, showing him some interesting coloured ties which perhaps stood some chance of matching his chosen aquamarine shirt.

Kay smiled at him as he entered the shop and motioned him to look around by himself. Nicholas strolled through the displayed stands of shoes, had a look at the wallets made of soft pig leather. He could certainly use a new one himself when he thought about his own old, shabby one. But one look at the price tag and he let the wallet drop. Marcus had given him one of his credit cards but he hesitated to use this on such an expensive item.

In the corner was a stand with key pendants for cars which he found pretty when he heard Kay said goodbye to the customer. He crossed the shop and stopped beside him.

"Hey sweetie, I'm very pleased to see you again. I guess you're OK now. Got over the shock?"

"Yes, thank you. The doc said there weren't any injuries, just had to stay overnight in the hospital but in the morning I went home." He pulled out a folder from the inside of his jacket and lent it to Kay. "Here's the photo of Simon. I took this from a painting, but I think it's a good likeness of the real Simon."

Kay opened the cover and stared at the picture.

"Nice lad, indeed", Nicholas thought that there was almost a look of affection on Kay's face as he looked at the photo. "The real Simon," he muttered under his breath.

"Huh?"

Kay looked up. "I guess this will do. I'll stick it up over the bar in the "Moonbreaker", so everybody will see it. Is that ok?"

Nicholas nodded. "I only hope we will have success. I must find him."

Kay gave him an intensive stare. "Why are you so anxious to know where he is? Does he owe you money? Or what?"

"Nonsense. It isn't money. He might be in difficulties though, and we want to see if he needs help, that's all." He looked around.

"Doesn't look as if you're very busy. The shop doing ok?"

"Well," Kay uncover the gap in his teeth while he was grinning. "You know, people come and go, have a brief look and run away again when they see the prices. We're about to start the winter clearence sale to made some reductions, so that maybe the tills will fill."

"Hm, what's with these wallets? Will they be on offer too?"

Kay shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know yet. Come next week and you'll see, or perhaps you'll visit the "Moonbreaker" again. With your friends, probably? Or with Marcus?"

"Ha, Marcus!" Nicholas laughed. "You think I could get Marcus into this club? His ears would fall off! That's definitively not his sort of place!"

Kay laughed with him and then asked, "Are you wearing my little present today? Or only for special lovers?" He tilted his head and gave him a very inviting look.

"Only for very special lovers," Nicholas whispered grinning.

"Oh well, that's too bad, sweetie," Kay sighed playfully. "Maybe another time, or isn't there any chance?"

Nicholas gave him a mysterious glance. "You never know .... sweetie."

He turned and left the shop.

Back home he heard the buzzing sound of a vacuum cleaner from upstairs and sighed. Anna was there and very busy cleaning the house. He hadn't met her so far, so he pulled himself together and walked upstairs.

He stopped at the doorway of the bedroom and watched the elderly woman bending over her hoover, in her effort to leave no spot behind. Only when she turned around did she notice the young man standing a little irresolutely at the door. She switched off the machine and looked somewhat confused. Then her face lit up. "You must be Nicholas, am I right?"

Nicholas nodded and watched her grey-blonde hair which she had knotted into a bun at the back of her neck. She wore an apron which covered most of her stout figure, but her face was smooth and almost without any wrinkles. Big glasses hid her face but behind them lurked very vigilant eyes of an undefined colour. Her small lips were a tiny slit in her face but she seemed to smile. She came to him with outstretched hand and said, "I'm Mrs. Weyler, Anna Weyler. Marcus has already told me about you and that you are living here now."

Her eyes switched briefly Nicholas' painting of Marcus on the wall. "I see you are an artist too, my boy." She grinned at him and this made her suddenly look much younger. Nicholas had to grin with her and he felt cheerful all of a sudden. He liked the woman.

"Come, I have finished here, lets go to the kitchen and see if we have something for you to eat." Nicholas felt himself grabbed by the upper arm and dragged downstairs.

"What a nasty weather we're having?" Anna Weyler aid conversationally as she rummaged in the pantry, searching for some special thing. Then she opened another cupboard. "Oh yes, here it is." She held a tin under Nicholas' nose.

"Have you ever tried tinned tomatoes? I haven't. Such new fashioned stuff. Comes from Italy. Who bought this? You?"

Nicholas didn't know what was happening to him. His head was spinning because of the speed Anna Weyler shot up her questions and answers.

"Yes, I bought it. I like them and Marcus too ... I guess."

"Well, I always thought he liked my plain cooking. You know, heavy sauces and lots of meat. He needs feeding, he always was a thin boy."

Nicholas tried to restrain a snort of amusement "A thin boy?" he said. "Was he?"

Anna nodded vehemently. "But of course. I always had to pamper him with desserts und jelly and puddings. He has a sweet tooth, I'm sure you know this?"

"Actually, I didn't."

"Doesn't matter. Now you know." She stared into his face and then looked him up and down. "Take off your jacket, boy, it's warm in here. And from what I can see, you're also on the thin side. I'll have to pamper you too." She smiled her thin-lipped smile and opened the fridge.

"Look here. Meat-rolls in sweet cream. I planned to have some potatoes and green beans, what do you think of that?"

"Well,"

"It's ok." She nodded. "Now take off your coat as I said. I'll look after everything."

She waved Nicholas away and out of the kitchen. In the hall he stood for a moment and tried to sort his thoughts. Meat-rolls! He wasn't especially fond of meat and he certainly wasn't on the thin side! Nor Marcus!

"When will Marcus be home? Do you know? Where is he actually?" he heard Anna shouting from the kitchen.

"No," he shouted back. "I mean I don't know when he will come back. He's at the exhibition room. But I can phone him."

"Yes, please. Then I will know when to put the potatoes on."

Nicholas sighed and went up into the bedroom. It smelled clean and a fresh wind blew the curtains from the opened windows. It was too clean for Nicholas' taste. He stepped into the wardrobe and hung his jacket to the others. Then he grabbed the telephone and dialled Marcus.

"You can help me later, darling."

Nicholas looked at Marcus obediently chewing his green beans. Anna had left them alone finally and Nicholas was thankful. He liked the woman but she was a little bit of a pain.

"Friday's my exhibition. Till then Paul's things have to be removed and taken back to his house. He'll come tomorrow with a trailer. Well, there aren't many things left, thankfully."

"So he made a lot of money?"

"Yes," Marcus nodded. "And me too."

"You too? How?"

"Ten percent goes to me, you know."

"Indeed?"

"Well, ten percent is a friendship rate! I have to pay the rent for the exhibition rooms after all."

"Poor boy!" Nicholas grinned. "Sure I'll help you later. Will you show me the paintings you have selected?"

"Of course I will." He looked at Nicholas. "So you've made friends with Anna? Do you like her?"

"Well, yes. But I have to get used to her cooking. She said you and me are on the thin side!"

Marcus laughed. "She said that? Oh my dear! What shall I do? Dismiss her so that you can be the cook? How does her apron and duster suit you?"

Nicholas frowned. "No, it's ok. For now, that is."

Marcus reached out to grab Nicholas chin. "It will be all right, darling. Soon you'll be attending school again and be out of the house. Do you want a sweet? She makes a fantastic vanilla pudding."

"Ah! Pudding! I'm fond of sweets too!"

"Are you? That's new to me."

Nicholas grinned mischievous. "Ever had pudding on your cock?"

"Huh?"

"Pudding there." He laid his palm on Marcus groin. Marcus dropped his cutlery onto the plate. "No. But you can show me later."

As Nicholas had supposed, all the paintings were either of the so-called naive art style or very modern, the sort that made him ask himself if the painting was hung upside down in his view. He wasn't able to recognize the wind blowing over a harvest field of grain or two lovers in an abstract embrace. To him it was rubbish and only the bright and garish colours were interesting.

He looked at another little painting standing on an easel which looked as if it had been painted by a child, as he supposed, although he was sure it wasn't. But the old country house with the apple tree lurking behind it and the huge flowers blooming on the meadow were in the complete wrong perspective and he asked himself why the Italian painters of the Renaissance had made so much effort to find out how to portray true perspective while the modern painters cared nothing about it at all. He didn't like looking at it and left a void in his head.

It wasn't that he dismissed the talent of this painter, he could certainly paint wonderfully, but Nicholas didn't understand the reason why he painted as he did. Even less did he understand why somebody should spend so much money for such a painting.

The third one covered a quarter of the white wall and showed a scribble- scrawl of scarlet lines and sap-green spots, mixed with Delft-blue splashes which gave the impression that the painter had shaken his paintbrush onto the canvas. It seemed an expensive waste of the colours.

Nicholas asked himself how his own more traditional paintings would fit into this collections. He went to the other side of the hall and removed the wrapping paper from his framed glazed paintings. But some of them were uncovered and would be set upon easels too. The landscapes for instance.

Over the last few days he had drawn some portraits and one of them was of Kay with his gap-toothed grin. He had made it in several implementations like drawing, in oil paint and in water colour and every one conveyed a different impression.

Nicholas had feared in the first place that Marcus would be suspicious and maybe a little bit jealous if he finds out whom he was painting, but surprisingly Marcus said nothing. Had had given him only an odd look and said, 'good job'. Nicholas didn't quite like this, but then, would he had liked it more to have a jealousy little quarrel with his lover? He was a painter after all and every artist must be allowed to paint things that interest him.

Kay had promised to come to the opening tomorrow evening and Nicholas was anxious to find out what he would think.

Johannes entered the hall with some heavy bronze figures of naked old men and women. They were unpolished and looked as if they would come straight out of the casting oven. Katja, a young woman with straight dark hair which she wore bound to a ponytail, followed him with the repaired bust of Trajan.

"Anybody in need for some coffee?" a deep voice sounded from the door. Nicholas spun around to found Sebastian entering the room, loaded with bags and a coffee percolator. Everybody seemed to approve of the idea and Sebastian was soon busy filling the machine with water and pulled out the coffee bags.

"Hi angel, how are you?" he winked to Nicholas. "Big day tomorrow, eh? Your first exhibition."

"It isn't MY exhibition. Look around."

"Yes, you are one amongst others. But yours are the best, I can see this. Do you want some coffee too?"

Nicholas nodded. "But not made like that."

"So? I haven't put in any poison."

Nicholas laughed. "No, of course not. Have you ever tried Turkish coffee?"

"No, what's that?"

"Look." He filled his mug with two spoonfuls of coffee and poured on the already boiling water from the heating plate.

"That's Turkish."

"Ah, you are keen on coffee grouts between your teeth, right?"

"Right."

"Let me have a taste."

"Don't burn your tongue, and first blow on the coffee."

Sebastian did what he was told and the grouts settled. "Hm, not bad, Nicki. Only thing missing is some milk. Have you any other good ideas?"

"For instance?"

Sebastian shook his head and changed the subject.

"Are you going with Marcus to New York?"

"New York?" Nicholas looked confused.

"Didn't he tell you? Carlisle has a very interesting offer. A screen made by Henry Holiday, the design by Edward Burne-Jones, about 1870."

Nicholas whistled through his teeth. "Burne-Jones! How did he get to hear about this?"

"Professional secret."

Nicholas nodded. "I remember of course; he mentioned New York. But I don't fancy flying, you know."

"Why? Get air sick?"

"Terrible. For several years I flew with my uncle to visit the family in Bavaria. I was puking all the time."

"Poor thing. Hm, Marcus will be not amused to hear this."

Suddenly a spark seemed to light up his eyes. "So you will stay here alone? Well, it will be only for a few days I guess. And I'm off to Rome next week anyway. Only wanted to stay for the exhibition."

Nicholas had an odd feeling. He tried to size the older man from out of the corner of his eye and ask abruptly, "Where do you live?"

"Where am I living?" Sebastian seemed to be a bit taken aback. "I've got a flat in the suburbs. Why do you ask?"

"Alone?"

Sebastian gazed into the young lad's innocent eyes. "Alone", he said.

"I only want to say that now I have two invitations from you. One for Rome and one to visit your flat."

"Ah!" Sebastian was certainly amused. "And for which order are you going to decide?"

"Neither of course. I only wanted to see if you would cheat on your best friend."

"Nicki, don't be a fool. Do you believe every word I say?"

"Actually, yes!"

"Well, that's your problem." He put down his empty mug and in the same smooth move he grabbed hold of Nicholas' chin and said, "I can assure you there are lots of pretty boys waiting for me in Rome. What do I need with another one?"

"Braggart."

Sebastian burst out in laughter. "Right. Incorrigible, like my best friend always says." Abruptly he stopped laughing and lowered his voice. "I like you, honey. But that doesn't mean I want to share my bed with you."

In a complete different voice he continued, "Has Marcus heard from Alex again?"

Nicholas remained silent. Only as Sebastian poked him in the rips he answered, "Yes, he called last week, but Marcus was cross."

Nicholas tried to hide his flushed face. He was not able to made head or tail of this man. He had bet his ass that Sebastian wanted to try to drag him into his bed. And now? Was he only playing a game? And why did the rejection hurt?

"You know the story?" Sebastian's voice broke through his thoughts. "Bad thing. He was one of our best buyer, good nose for antiques. It's a mystery to me how this mistake could happen to him. Come", he said cheerfully, "show me your paintings, Nicki. No, let me guess which ones they are." They crossed the room and Sebastian's eyes glanced over the display.

"You know the landscapes already but I've painted some others," said Nicholas. "Look." He stopped in front of one of Kay's portraits.

"Who's this? Bleached hair? Don't like this." He threw a swift glance at the young man. "I mean the hair of course. If he looks anything like your painting... hm." He tilted his head. "It's well done, Nicki. Who is it?"

"Kay, a sales clerk from Cerruti's shop."

"A sales clerk?' Sebastian raised one of his dark eyebrows, which gave him a more sinister look. "Cerruti? Newly opened? Where?"

"Lafayette."

"Ah, I'm not kept informed anymore, I'm afraid." He stepped closer to the painting as if he were myopic. "Good shop?"

Nicholas shrugged his shoulders. Sebastian turned round in search for an answer.

"What's the matter with you? Why are you so monosyllabic all at once? Have I said something wrong?"

Nicholas didn't answer and tried to avoid his gaze.

"Where's Marcus actually?" Sebastian asked.

"Don't know. Somewhere."

Sebastian cautiously touched the surface of the painting and inspected his fingertips. "Not really dry yet. Painted yesterday?"

"Mm."

Sebastian shook his head and grabbed Nicholas by the shoulders. "You need a glass of wine or something. Relax, honey. Nobody's going to do you any harm." He smiled at him encouragingly. "I do like you. You are very sexy when you're blushing," he whispered. "Nobody seems to do it anymore in these wild days, but I definitively like it. Come, be happy again, will you? Tomorrow you will be the star of the exhibition, and all the other," he stretched out his arm to embrace the whole room, "will be green with envy." Nicholas smiled a half smile and sighed.

"Have you met Anna already?", Sebastian asked.

"The housekeeper, yes. She stuffs us with meat and tarts and puddings."

"Ah! Good old Anna's plain cooking! Still the same." He laughed. "And apart from that?"

"Well, it's all right I guess. Doesn't she mind that Marcus is gay?"

Sebastian looked suddenly serious. "She used to mind, Nicki. Very much."

He searched the room for a more private place. Katja and Johannes were busy putting up the bronze sculptures and searching for the right angle. But in the corner near the door were a couple of empty stools. He dragged Nicholas over with him.

"As long as I can remember Anna was at the Weidenbruch house. A very conservative household, you understand, Nicki. I learnt this when I visited it the first time while on summer holidays and Marcus and I came home from Switzerland. We were fifteen and very much in love with each other. One morning she found us together in Marcus' bed although I was suppose to be sleeping in another room. In an embrace, you know what I mean."

Sebastian spoke fast as if he feared he might be interrupted by Nicholas.

"All hell broke loose. His parents threw me out of the house and forbade me to ever enter it again."

"She told his parents?"

"Of course. Headline news. They wanted to split us; Marcus whould never return to the boarding-school which I attended - the causer of all his failures and aberrations." His laugh was harsh and unhappy.

"But Marcus is an obstinate person, everything his parents told him bounced off, and we met again in Geneva." He paused for a moment. "I don't know what Anna caused to change her mind, maybe she considered Marcus as the son she never had. Anyway, she was determined to live in his house when his parents decided to spend their life at the Canary Islands."

He looked at Nicholas.

"I only want to warn you, she can be a jealous woman. Everybody who seems to threaten the well-being of her beloved Marcus will feel her disapproval, me included. She hated me right from the beginning but she hid it well. But then there was Simon. You have no idea who Simon was ... a spoiled young lad, playful, full of life and sometimes a little irritating. Actually," he grinned, "he suited me better than Marcus, but I wasn't his type of man I guess. Simon and Anna fought every day their war of nerves, maybe it was this that drove Marcus away, to spend so much time abroad. Simon could really be a pain in the ass, but he was ..." he searched for the right word.... "hot. You know what I mean? Nobody could resist him. He was a candle that burned at both ends. And now he has burnt his fingers." His head dropped. "More than that."

Nicholas cautiously touched Sebastian's shoulder. "You loved him?"

Sebastian flinched and looked from aside. "Loved?" He snorted. "What's that?"

Nicholas pulled back his fingers quickly.

"Be careful, Nicki. Don't let Anna come between you and Marcus. You will attend school again I have heard?" He nodded. "That's good. Marcus isn't that strong, staunch and unshakeable as he seems to be. It's only a facade."

Nicholas looked bewildered. "No, I think you're wrong. He is strong and, and .... he loves me."

Sebastian gave him a sad, little smile. "Of course he does, honey", he said with a low almost harsh voice.

Nicholas cleared his throat. "But what came between you and Marcus? You said you were so in love..."

"Time, honey. People change... We couldn't live together and couldn't live without the other. It was ... terrible sometimes. I guess I wasn't born to be faithful to only one man."

Suddenly he looked up and his face had lost all its seriousness. His eyes began to sparkle again. "Why are we talking about anyway? Look, there's Marcus at last." He sounded as if he was almost relieved. "He wasn't upset about your spending so much time thinking of your young bleached-blond friend?"

He pushed some sandy strands of hair out of his eyes. "Funny, if I'd done it he would have really flipped!" He lifted his hands in a pitiful manner. "But I can't draw for toffee!"

*

Razor sharp, pink lips opened to a soundless cry of indignation and the stocky figure lifted her cooking-spoon from which dripped a creamy white liquid onto the tiled kitchen floor.

Nicholas tried to escape but his feet seemed to be glued so all he could do was to keep his hands protecting in front of his face and to submit to the sweet torture.

He lifted his head and the white cream dropped into is open mouth. Now the small lips were contorted to a wicked grin and a satisfied grunt came from deep of her throat. "You like this, do you, my little boy?" The voice dripped scorn. "Say you like this or I will tell your parents what you are doing in Marcus' bed when you are alone with him...."

Her face changed into a menacing visage.... blurred and merged with white hair and piercing eyes. From his throat came an amused chuckling "You like this, don't you?" as he rammed his tool deep and without mercy into his anus...

Nicholas began to yell. His arms reached out for something he could cling to .... A pair of strong arms embraced him and pulled him to a chest which was warm and smooth and pulsating with life ... like a heartbeat...

"Stop it baby", he heard a soothing, deep voice close to his ear, "Stop it, it's all right...."

Nicholas tried to open his eyes, but wasn't able to lift his eyelids.

"It's all right, darling. It was only a dream..." Nicholas opened his eyes wide and the voice was still there. A pair of hands stroked his damp hair and he felt being rocked in loving arms.

"What were you dreaming abut? You were shouting and crying."

Nicholas gently broke free and stared confused into Marcus concerned eyes. He remembered a fat woman with a red apron, swinging a wooden spoon... and suddenly he had to laugh. He rubbed his eyes and cuddled himself into Marcus' arms. "I dreamt of Anna with a big spoon. She threatened me if I wouldn't eat from her delicious cream..." He giggled.

"What?" Marcus had to laugh too. "I didn't knew that she had made such a deep impression to you! Come on, sleep now. Tomorrow will be a long, hard day."

Nicholas' chuckling stopped abruptly; there was something else ... almost white hair ... Frank! Nicholas twitched uncomfortably. Pah! Who was this Frank? Get out of my mind, he muttered.

It wasn't long time before he was asleep again.

Marcus sighed. He would have to speak some serious words with Anna, he thought, these dreams are not normal.

* * * * *

"Mum!" Nicholas beamed as he saw his mother enter the exhibition hall. She looked uncertainly around as if she feared the ceiling would fall on her head the next moment.

He went to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Where's dad?"

"At home. He doesn't wanted to miss the football game on TV."

"Oh." Nicholas was disappointed. But then, had he really expected that his father would come to an Art Exhibition? He doubted that he had ever really looked at a good painting nor in fact at any other thing which was not football or ice hockey. Well, after all, his mother was here and he was anxious to hear what she would say.

"Come, take off your coat. Matthias is already here, and in an hour we open." He took the coat and hung it with the others. His mother looked around and briefly touched the marble hair of emperor Trajan. But instantly she pulled back her fingers as if she remembered that it was forbidden to touch exhibits.

Nicholas laughed. "You can touch it, mum! It's ok to touch the things you like, unless your fingers are sticky with marmalade, or something."

His mother laughed quietly. "Were are your paintings, darling? Show me please."

He led his mother to the little watercolours he had painted and looked for Matthias to find him in a talk with Katja, the young graduate from the Art academy. "Where's Tina?" Nicholas asked.

"At home, not feeling too well, caught a cold apparently."

"Oh, sorry about that. My mother's arrived. I didn't think that she would come."

Matthias smiled. "Great. And your father?"

Nicholas shook his head. "Doesn't matter." He stepped away a bit and dragged his friend with him. "Did Marcus know that she wanted to come?" Matthias asked.

"Yes. And he also knows that she is unaware that he and me..."

"I understand. Will Marcus play the game?"

"I certainly hope so." He looked suddenly very concerned and grimaced. "When I think it over, it was a stupid idea to invite her. She's bound to find out, there are too many people who know that we both are a pair."

Matthias sighed. "Man! It's your life. How old are you? Do you think your mother will hate you if she finds out?"

Nicholas didn't answer.

"Come on, she will be pleased to see me again", Matthias said grinning and went over to met Nick's mother.

The hall was slowly filling with people some of whom Nicholas knew and some he had never met nor seen before. He was busy explaining to an over-dressed woman in grass green, tight pants and high heels, the content of oil paints when a flash light went off over the other side of the room.

A collective "Aahh!" escaped the throats and the Senator for Art and Culture entered, accompany with several journalists who took photos.

Marcus went over to the almost spherical, little man with a half bald head, and greeted him. He gave him a glass of sparkling wine and welcomed him.

Nicholas was thunderstruck. He hadn't any clue that the exhibition would be covered by the press. His eyes searched for Marcus' and he showed his teeth in a broad grin.

"Mum," Nicholas said, "I guess I have to go to the loo. Be back in a minute." His mother, also overawed by the events, smiled weakly and tried to vanished into the darkest corner of the room. She felt most uncomfortably in these surroundings and wished she had stayed at home in front of the TV, sew some bottoms on her husbands' working trousers.

Nicholas bumped straight into Sebastian as he went around the corner. "Stay here!" Sebastian said. "I know what you are planning! The Senator will be gone in a few minutes. There's no need to be afraid." He put his arm around him. "Come with me. I want to meet your mother."

Nicholas protested but he cut off his words. "Could you shake off this terrible green lady? She keeps asking me for the price of one of your paintings."

"Really?" Nicholas was amazed. "And what did you say?"

"That the price is under the painting. But she had forgotten her glasses, so I said the price would be 1500 Marks, and she took out her cheque book and wrote one immediately."

Nicholas stood petrified. "1500 Marks? Are you crazy?"

Sebastian laughed loudly. "Hey, calm down. If one is able to pay so much money for a painting she must have enough and to spare! It makes no difference to her if she spends it on a new mink coat or on of your paintings, Nicki. Maybe she's mad about bleached young men!"

He took the sleeve of Nicholas' jacket and pulled him along. "Now where's your mother?"

Senator Fischer stood patiently with the glass in his hand beside the bronze sculpture of an old woman and listened to Marcus' explanations.

"Ah!" Marcus exclaimed. "Here's the star of our exhibition!" He pointed to Nicholas and beckoned him to join them. Nicholas resisted, but Sebastian had his grip firmly on his upper arm. Senator Fischer showed a polite smile and asked for his name. Nicholas didn't know what was happening to him as he felt passed around, posing blushing in front of his paintings with the journalist taking photos of him alone and together with Marcus. In a rush all was over and the Senator with the photographer were gone.

"God!" escaped from Nicholas' throat as he turned to look for his mother, who stood, well hidden behind an easel and watched the scene.

"Now, where's your mother?" he heard Sebastian's voice. "We were interrupted."

He went straight to the woman and stretched out his hand. "I'm Sebastian von Scheffel. It is a real pleasure for me to finally meet the mother of our Nicholas. How are you enjoying the evening?"

He waited for an answer but his mother stood in silence and looked very confused. Sebastian saw her blond hair, just the same colour as her son had and asked himself if she had the same smile that would change her harassed, but still attractive face to the beauty she once certainly was.

He smiled. "You are not used to such a commotion, aren't you?" His touch was featherlight on her shoulder. "Shall I find you a quiet place to sit down and bring you something to eat? It must be very exhausting for you."

Nicholas' mother nodded her thanks. He led her to a comfortable upholstered bench in a niche. "From here you have a fine view of the hall. I'll be back soon."

He crossed the room to find Marcus and whispered in his ear. "You should care for Nicki's mother. She doesn't feel well. I'll bring her something to eat."

"Heavens! Yes. I completely forgot. Let me bring her something to eat. Go and look after the customers."

Nicholas looked at his watch. It was a quarter to ten and he felt tired. Tired and impatient for the evening to end soon.

"Great ball, sweetie, I'm impressed", he heard a voice beside his shoulder and looked into Kay's dark eyes. He was dressed in a thigh-length, white jacket with black patches upon it which gave the impression that he was wearing the skin of a cow.

"What do you look like, man! Is this all the fashion?" Nicholas laughed.

"But of course it is! You should come more often to Cerruti's."

He looked Nicholas up and down. "Wow! You're not looking bad yourself. I watched your performance with Senator Fischer from outside. I guess your picture will be in all the newspapers tomorrow, eh?"

"Don't remind me! What a drag."

"Rubbish! Soon you'll be a local hero. Anything sold already?"

"Mm. One of my paintings of you."

"Huh?"

Nicholas didn't answer but dragged him to the easels. A perplexed Kay stared into his own face. "But that's impossible! How could you do this without a model!"

"It isn't bad, is it?"

"You can say that again, sweetie. But there's another one!" he exclaimed.

"And yet another one!" Matthias had arrived and winked at his friend. "Hi, I'm Matthias."

Kay turned and began to smile. His eyes were sparkling. "Kay."

"I know", Matthias grinned broadly, "your name is under the painting. What do you think of it?"

"Well, I'm flabbergasted."

"I bet you are!"

Marcus sat beside Vera Zellner, Nicholas' mother, and gave her a plate with some slices of toast, poultry salad and cold roast beef. "Would you like to have a drink? Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Marcus Weidenbruch and the host of the exhibition. I suppose your son has mentioned me."

Vera nodded, took the plate with a word of thanks, and put it down on her knees. She wore a dark skirt of a inferior quality and an old fashion pattern, Marcus noticed. Quietly he spoke, "I know you are not feeling all that comfortable but I'm most pleased that you were able to come. Your son has a wonderful talent, I hope you are aware of this."

"Well," she cleared her throat. "I don't know very much about these things, you know... but I guess.' She stopped and said "I believe you when you say so. You are the expert." She tried a smile which gave Marcus an almost physical blow in the stomach. It was Nicholas' smile. Who was responsible that this woman's life had been wasted in one of poverty, he thought. If she would had only found the right man she would today be the queen of the night...

Marcus remembered the talk he had with her son the evening before. He had promised not to reveal the relationship he and Nick had but Marcus couldn't really quite understand the reason. The father, of course. Nicholas was afraid of his father, but the relationship was certainly something which had to be discussed and if Mr Zellner was such a stupid idiot not to accept that other people had their own lives to lead then Nick had certainly lost nothing at his father's house. But here was his mother and she would grieve if father and son should ever break up...

"Nicholas told you that he's going back to College again?"

"No! He hasn't. You mean the Art academy course he broke off?"

Marcus nodded.

"But why?" she continued, "I mean, we don't even know the reason why he broke off so suddenly." She looked into Marcus eyes and relaxed slowly. "Do you think I could have something to drink?" she ask timidly.

"Of course. Wait a moment."

A stout woman approaches Vera. "You must be surely be the mother of our Nicholas, am I right?"

Vera looked up from her slice of toast which she was just about to bite into. Anna Weyler lifted her wide swinging skirt and sat beside her. "May I" she ask unnecessarily.

"I'm Marcus' housekeeper and his oldest female friend if I dare to say so." She smiled her thin-lipped smile again and eyed the other woman curiously.

"Now I know where Nicholas gets his good looks from." Vera tried to swallow the bite but began to cough. Anna clapped her on her back. "You are certainly proud of your son, aren't you? He's such a friendly lad and so very talented - as Marcus always says. You know, I don't know anything about Art, although I always worked in an artistic house. I saw the nude painting Nicholas made of Marcus, and I can tell it is done very nicely."

She smiled. "But you know this all of course."

Vera looked confused.

"Are you enjoying the evening?", Anna continued, "I find it so exciting, you know all these people.... did you see the senator? Of course you did. Nick will be headline news in tomorrow's paper!" She clapped her hands together like a little girl in front of the Christmas tree, bent over and whispered familiar, "You don't have to worry that I won't look after him enough, Mrs ... what's your name?"

"Vera Zellner", said Nicholas' mother in a toneless voice.

"Yes, I'm sorry. But I have a feeling he's not very fond of my cooking, although I'm always try my best. You certainly know that he and Marcus are living together?" She lifted her head and looked critically at Vera, taking in her unfashionable dress.

"Well, actually I didn't." Vera didn't like this woman and had enough of her babbling. What a mixture of awfully people! she thought, except this Marcus and the other tall man with the sandy hair. She couldn't remember his name, something noble... She gave a quick glance in Anna's direction and drew herself up. So her son was now living with Marcus Weidenbruch... but why he hadn't mentioned it? There was surely nothing wrong in living at his teacher's house...

"You know, Mrs Zellner, the lad who lived before in Marcus' house was a bit ... difficult to handle, rebellious and arrogant, and I'm glad Nick is so loveable, and Marcus seems to be very much in love with him."

Vera swallowed the salad the wrong way. She choked but at last managed to say, "What do you mean?" She got an odd look from the sharp eyes behind the big glasses.

"Didn't you know?" The expression on her face changed. "Oh, Mrs ... how very embarrassing... I didn't know... well, I have to go now, I guess, it's getting late, and I... good bye now, it was a pleasure meeting you."

Anna Weyler rose and rushed away. A wicked grin appeared on her face.

"Certainly you knew..." Vera muttered barely audible.

"Leaving us so soon, Anna?" Marcus asked as she passed his way.

"Till tomorrow, my dear. The exhibition is a big success, I guess."

Marcus nodded good bye and took the glass of wine to Nicholas' mother. He found her looking distinctly upset.

"Are you all right? I know it's getting hot in here, maybe I should have brought you some cool water instead?"

Vera shook her head and gave him a puzzled look. "I must go now. I'm sorry, Mr. Weidenbruch, but I'm not feeling too well. Where is my son?"

Marcus sat the glass down. "Of course, I'm sorry. I will call you a taxi."

"Do you want me to sit for you as a nude model, eh?" Kay gazed deep into Nicholas' eyes.

"You'd would really do this, wouldn't you?" Nicholas laughed and sized the young man up and down. "Why not? I'll think it over." His voice became more serious. "Had anybody reacted to Simon's picture?"

Kay shake his head. "No. I would had called you instantly if they had. Nobody knows him. Yet", he added. "Have a little patience." He tilted his head.

"Do you know which one had bought my painting?"

"Yes, the woman with the green, tight trousers over there."

Kay watched the older woman with the red cheeks and heard her laugh, distastefully shrill.

"Hm. I guess I'll be hanging in her bedroom, eh? If she was be a man I'd say she would jerk off in front of me, but..."

Nicholas laughed. "Why do you think, women doesn't 'jerk off'?"

"Nicholas," he heard a soft voice and turned. "I'm going now", his mother said. "Mr Weidenbruch had ordered me a taxi." She kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm sorry, mum. We couldn't speak together much. But you see..." He looked around.

"It is all right, son. Will you come and visit to us sometime?"

"But of course I will, next week, ok?"

Marcus appeared on her side. "The taxi is waiting."

Nicholas' mother gave her son a long glance. "I want to talk to you, Nick. I guess, it would be better if we met somewhere else rather than at home, do you mind?"

"No. But..."

His mother was already gone.

"The similarity is amazing!" Sebastian said, staring alternately at the painting and into Kay's face.

"Well," Kay awkwardly ran his fingers through his short, blond hair.

"Nicholas said you are a sales clerk at Cerruti's? I'd be interested in comparing both shops, here and in Rome." He stretched out his hand. "I'm Sebastian."

Matthias took a deep breath. This was Sebastian; Nick had described him as an outstanding man, in every aspect. He watched how Kay shook his hand firmly and he could feel there was a tension between both men. Kay was obviously a bit embarrassed, pinching his nose between thump and middle finger. There was something going on, Matthias could sense it, and not just because he suddenly felt himself superfluous.

Sebastian was struck by Kay's appearance... With his long black and white jacket and the leather jeans he sensed a somewhat flamboyant personality which matched his own. He wondered how old this lad was actually? Sebastian knew Kay was making small talk but he didn't hear a single word. Kay pinched his nose again and grinned, a somewhat familiar gesture...

"How old are you?" Sebastian asked bluntly, "Have you ever sat as nude model?"

Kay shook his head. "I've offered to sit for Nick and he said he'd think it over."

With his head he nodded to Nicholas who was occupied in conversation wrapped with Matthias.

"Are you a painter too?" he asked.

"No. Unfortunately I haven't a clue how to paint."

Kay tilted his head. "Would you like to come and visit the shop? Tomorrow?"

Sebastian felt attracted by him. Very much.

"I'll see, perhaps tomorrow or the day after."

* * *

It was ten minutes after midnight when Marcus and Sebastian locked the door and sighed deeply in unison.

Sebastian stepped to the little bar and poured himself a glass of Whisky. "Nicki, honey, want something to drink, too?"

Nicholas was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. His head was spinning.

"Huh? Yes, please."

"Whisky?"

"No. Don't you have a beer?"

"Sure."

"Ok," said Marcus, "let's bring all the sold paintings into the workshop first before we go home. Ok?"

Sebastian sighed. "Do we have to? I'm worn out."

"You are worn out? From what? Making small talk?"

Sebastian gave him a playful slap in the stomach. "How many we have sold?"

"Mostly all of Nick’s. Except one."

"Which one?" asked Nicholas.

"The landscape of the lake shore. I like it too much and I want to keep it", Marcus said.

"It means YOU have bought it, right? You owe me 1500 Marks!"

"Huh?"

Sebastian grinned but said nothing. Marcus waved him off. "We can discuss this later. Let's go."

They took the sold paintings to Marcus' workshop next door and left everything as is was. The catering firm would come tomorrow and clear up.

"Damn! We forgot your landscape", Marcus said as they drove home in his car.

"Doesn't matter. We'll get it tomorrow." Nicholas snuggled close to Marcus' shoulder and closed is eyes. Marcus put his arm around him and watched the deserted streets. As they arrived home, Nicholas was sound asleep, so Marcus lifted him cautiously, carried him inside and closed the door with his foot.

Marcus had the feeling he has slept only a few minutes, when he was woken by the shrill sound of the phone. Sleepily he groped for it.

"Yeah?"

Suddenly he sat upright in the bed. "What did you say?"

Nicholas stirred and murmured, "What is it?"

Marcus slammed down the receiver and shouted, "The Exhibition Hall's" burning!"

He jumped out of the bed, forgot his underpants, pulled on his trousers and searched for a pullover. Nicholas rubbed his eyes. "What did you say? It's burning? Where?"

"Stay here, baby. I have to go."

"No! Where is it burning?"

Marcus sighed. "The Exhibition! If you want to come with me, then hurry up!" He slipped into his shoes and ran downstairs.

Marcus smelled the smoke as he and Nicholas jumped out of the car. The front door of the room was undamaged and open. Marcus entered and saw a shadowy figure sitting on the floor. He stepped nearer.

"Sebastian! What are you doing here?"

He turned as he heard noises from the little room behind the big hall. A police officer appeared in the door. "Good evening, I suppose you are Mr Weidenbruch? I called you."

Marcus nodded. "What happened?" The officer motioned around. The white walls were grey and burnt and on the floor were gathered light grey flakes of wet ashes. The paintings on the easels were smoky and destroyed; the marble bust of Trajan lay shattered on the floor, and somebody had tried to smash the bronze sculptures. Marcus' gaze turned to a painting in the corner. It was Nicholas' landscape, crumbed now to nothing. Marcus turned to Nicholas standing behind him and searched for his hand.

"I forget the jacket with my keys in it, so I had to return", Sebastian said quietly. His face was dirty with black strands and his torn, scorched jacket was laid across his knees.

"As I entered I saw the flames coming apparently from the little room. I tried, but what could I do with only one bucket and I couldn't find the fire extinguisher!"

"I suppose the fire started in that room." The officer pointed behind him. "Our specialists will be here in a few minutes."

"Ok." Marcus said depressed and watched Nicholas standing at the easel and gently touching his destroyed painting. There was hardly anything he was able to recognize and a sad little moan escaped his throat. It was destroyed now like the chalk paintings he used to paint on the pavement...

Sebastian's silence slowly got depressing. Unspeaking he unlocked the door to Marcus' house and let Nicholas slip in. In the hall he stood and asked "Tired? Do you want to go straight to bed again?"

Nicholas shook his head. "No, I couldn't sleep anyway."

Sebastian sighed. He still had his scorched jacket with him which he threw over a chair.

"Come, talk to me, Sebastian. What do you think about it?"

Sebastian didn't answer. Instead he went into the living room and poured himself a glass of whisky. He drank slowly. "I have no clues about it," he said then quietly. "I think it must have been an accident, don't you think so?" He looked at the young man standing in the doorway, undecided whether to enter or not. "There was this heating plate. Maybe it had a defect in the wires or something."

He sat down in one of the lilac coloured armchairs. "What else could it be?"

"Yeah," Nicholas sighed and sat in another chair. "Do you think Marcus will be home soon?"

"How should I know, my heart?" He took another gulp. "Want some coffee or something?"

Nicholas nodded, rose and went into the kitchen. Sebastian followed him. "This Kay," he began hesitantly, "do you know him well?"

Nicholas' lips twisted into a little grin. "You like him?"

"I asked first."

Nicholas put some coffee into a mug and waited for the water to heat up. "Ok, no I don't know him all that well. We've met only ... three times, four times including today. He's helping me to look for Simon."

"Huh? Simon?"

"Yes, Simon. I gave him a photo I've made from the painting and he displayed it at the "Moonbreaker"."

Sebastian nodded and watched Nicholas pouring the boiling water into the pot.

"You fancy him?" Nicholas asked while he stirred the coffee.

"Me? Well..."

"Ah, come on, he's probably as 'hot' as you said Simon was."

Sebastian had to laugh. "Yeah, probably. He even remembers me at him, some of his gestures, the way he talks..." He approached Nicholas and murmured, "Where's your painting of Marcus? You must have finished it, right?"

"How do you know?" Nicholas asked surprised but didn't really wait for an answer. "It's upstairs in the bedroom to scare the housekeeper."

"To scare the housekeeper?" Sebastian laughed. "I don't think that anything could make Anna scared or feel faint! Has she said something?"

"No. Only that she liked the painting!"

"Did she?" Sebastian raised his eyebrows. Then he grabbed Nicholas' hand and dragged him with him upstairs.

There Sebastian lifted a tiny pair of white underpants lying on one of the chairs and said grinning, "So good old Marcus went without his pants!" He turned.

"I only hope the call didn't disturb something."

Nicholas blushed a bit. "No." He pointed to Marcus' portrait. "There it is."

"Ah, right beside Simon and what's that? Paul's mask! You loved it, didn't you?"

Sebastian stepped closer to inspect the picture. "Really good," he muttered. "It's been a long time ago since I saw him this way." Nicholas drank nervously from his coffee.

"Did he say when he's leaving for New York?"

"No, we didn't talk about it."

Sebastian stepped closer to him. "And what you are planning on doing, all alone in the house? Some wild parties with your friends?"

"What are you talking about? I don't know even if I'm going to stay here, I don't like the idea of being alone with Anna. Moreover I must go to the academy to register for the new semester. And I'll be seeing Matthias. So you see, I've got a lot to do."

"Matthias, your friend? The one I saw standing with Kay?"

"Yes."

Sebastian looked at his watch. It was 4:40 in the morning and he felt suddenly very tired. He began to unbutton his shirt, pulling it out of his black trousers. Nicholas watched uneasily. He finished taking off his shirt, and swung it over his shoulder.

Nicholas gaze went to the painting of Sebastian and found he hadn't changed at all since then. There was still the same fuzz of blond hair on his chest and Nicholas would have liked to run his fingers through it, the smooth skin on his shoulders, along the arms and around his waist. Sebastian stepped even closer and whispered into his ear, "I'm tired. Is the guest room still ready as always?"

Nicholas couldn't scarcely speak but managed to whisper "Yes".

"Ok," he stepped out of the door, "if something happens wake me, won't you?"

Nicholas nodded. He began to undress himself and crept into the bed. There was still the scent of Marcus on the sheets and the pillows, so he snuggled deep under the blankets and fell asleep.

* * *

Rudolf Zellner sat at the kitchen table and bit into his morning roll. It was a bright sunny day; the sunbeams crept over the plastic table cloth, decorated with little flowers, and lit up his face. He tried to read the morning paper but his eyesight was getting weaker these days.

"I'm going now. Shall I bring back something special?" Nicholas' mother shouted from the tiny corridor outside.

"Nothing special, dear. Get what you like."

"All right then. Bye, and go to bed soon." Vera slipped into her coat and went off to her daily work at the supermarket where she worked as a cashier.

Rudolf nodded and tried to suppress a jawn. He had been home only a few minutes after the night shift. He poured another cup of tea and leafed through the pages. His gaze got stuck at a report about the opening of an exhibition held by Marcus Weidenbruch. There were several pictures which showed the Senator for Culture standing with a glass in his hand and apparently listening to explanations. Suddenly Rudolf recognised his son, standing awkwardly in front of a painting which showed the smiling face of a young blond man. Rudolf stood up and searched for his glasses.

Back at the table he read the section once more.

"Marcus Weidenbruch, rich Art promoter, dealer of Art and one of the most famous men in town, yesterday evening opened his exhibition for unknown young Artists. Edgar Fischer, Senator for Culture, made a short visit to emphasise the importance of supporting young Artists in town. Right picture: his newest discovery, Nicholas Zellner, standing in front of one of his paintings, which were a great success. Below: N. Zellner together with M. Weidenbruch. Rumours are reporting that the young man is Weidenbruch's, known as being homosexual, newest boy friend."

A drop of marmalade dropped from his roll. Rudolf read the section a third time. There was no mistake. Hastily he licked the sticky marmalade from his fingers. What did they mean with 'newest boy friend'? Did they mean to infer that his son Nicholas was gay, too?

Rudolf let the newspaper drop on the table and stared out of the window. This couldn't be true. What rubbish these journalists sometimes wrote! He leaned back in his chair. Well, Vera had told him that Nicholas was friendly with this fairy Weidenbruch and he didn't like the thought. But if the boy loves his daubing that much, so be it.

Rudolf sighed loudly. But if he ever laid his dirty hands on his son ... Rudolf's hands began to quiver ... he didn't know what he would do then. Vera hadn't told much about the exhibition yesterday, but it seemed she was certainly hiding something. She must know - if this was true - that their Nicholas was the object of Weidenbruch's filthy desire... Pray Heaven that it wasn't true!

Rudolf stood up, intending to have a word with his wife if she came back in the early afternoon. With a heavy tread, he crossed the kitchen straight to the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Nicholas wasn't sure what his mother wanted to talk about. He had called her early that morning, shortly after Marcus' return. Marcus had explained that the cause of the fire was almost certainly the defective water kettle. Nicholas had never seen such an appliance in the room, but that didn't seem important. Marcus had called all young men and women whose paintings had been destroyed and had promised them compensation, although he knew very well that there wasn't any really adequate 'compensation' for a destroyed object of Art. But is was all he could do. Sebastian was vanished to his own flat and Nicholas' mother wanted to discuss something with him in private.

He knew that Anna Weyler would soon show up so he had suggested a meeting in a cafe, his mother know. He thought it a bit odd that she wasn't at work but she had said, she had taken a day off.

At the cafe she looked him now up and down and then said quietly, "Why didn't you tell me that you are living at Mr. Weidenbruch's house?" Without waiting for an answer she continued, "I watched you yesterday intently. Not only are you looking good - all theses new and apparently expensive clothes - but you seem to be happy. Are you?"

Nicholas sighed deeply. "There was a fire last night in the exhibition hall. Luckily we had taken away all the pieces that had been sold, so the damage was limit."

"A fire?" his mother asked startled. "Anybody hurt?"

"No. The police told us it was a defect water kettle."

"And your paintings?"

"They are safe, except one." His face lit up. "They are all sold, mum! Imagine that! At astronomical prices!"

"Really?" His mother smiled. "Why don't you tell us everything, darling? Is it ... is it because you’re living with Mr. Weidenbruch?"

His gaze was suddenly angry. "How do you know?"

Vera frowned. "I had an 'encounter' with your housekeeper, I've forgotten her name."

"Anna!" Nicholas laughed unhappily. "I should have known. This old chatterbox! And? What did she tell you?" His gaze was suddenly cool.

Vera put a spoonful of sugar into her tea and stirred it slowly. "She told me that he's very much in love with you."

"Ah! And you're thinking now that I'm a little faggot and get paid for the service!"

Vera gasped. "Nicholas! What's the matter with you? You've never spoke like this before."

"No?" He looked around to see if anyone was listening.

"I'm sorry, mum. But... Have you never noticed that I never had a girlfriend? You've never said anything about it."

"But yes, darling, of course I've noticed. But I always thought it's your business and after all, you are so young..."

"Pah, so young! I'm 20!"

"So it is true, yes?"

Nicholas nodded.

"And he pays for you? Do you still work in the shopping centre?"

"No. I'm going to start at the academy of Arts again."

"Yes, the housekeeper told me."

"She doesn't miss a thing, does she?' Nicholas didn't expect an answer.

"What will your father say to this?" Vera asked after a while. Then she looked intently into her son's eyes. "That you are homosexual is one thing, Nicholas. But it's dangerous. Is this Marcus... is he healthy? You know what I mean."

"Yes, he's healthy, I can take care of myself, don't worry about that, mum."

Vera shook her head a little. "It's .... I have to get used to it." She looked up. "You are our only son and I have to come to terms with the fact that there will be no grandchildren? Nor a daughter-in-law? Never?"

"Never." He took her hand and stroked it gently. "But that's not the end of the world, mum. Is it?" He grinned. "Instead you'll have a son-in-law!"

Vera had to laugh. "A son-in-law! Well, you may be able to twist me around your little finger but your father.... I mean Marcus is a very likeable man, polite and charming, but I doubt that this will impress your father."

"And he's rich!"

"Yeah, he's rich, too. Another reason for father's suspicion. You know what he thinks about rich people."

"Ah, so Marcus should give away all his money to the poor and live under the bridges just because my father hates rich people! He knows nothing about him." With an optimism he didn't quite feel, he added, "Anyway, perhaps he will take it better than you think. Will you tell him?"

"I think you should do this by yourself, darling."

"Hm." Nicholas sighed heavily. "But not yet." He looked at his mother.

"Do you want to come with me to Marcus house?" He looked at his watch. "Anna will have gone by now and perhaps Marcus is back already. Will you?"

Vera shook his head. "First I must think about it ... another time, perhaps?"

"Ok. Another time."

* * *

Sebastian was so confused by the arrays of displayed clothes, bags, perfumes, soaps and scarves that he had to go three times round before he found the entrance to the long tunnel leading from the Galeries Lafayette into the Quarter 205. He walked along the black-white marble tiles and found the shop windows with the label of Donna Karan. Then he saw the steps leading up to the second gallery and went slowly upstairs. As he looked through the window he saw Kay standing at the counter, sorting pocket handkerchiefs and looked a little bored.

"Nothing happening here, eh?" he said as he entered the room. Kay looked up and beamed. "Hey Sebastian, I didn't expect you so soon."

"Soon?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "It's surely just before closing time."

"Yeah, I meant to say I didn't expect you today."

Sebastian grinned. "I couldn't wait to see you again! That's all."

He stared into the young lad's face. "How was your night?" he asked.

"Lonely."

"Ah! Lonely. Well, I had company."

"Did you?" Kay felt a little stab of jealousy.

"Yes, Nick," said Sebastian keeping a straight face.

"Nick?" Kay said astonished.

Sebastian looked at his watch. "You should close now. It's 7:30. No one else will come. Where do you want to go?"

"I thought, Nick was Marcus' own. Or do you both fuck him alternately?"

"Stupid. I had to play baby-sitter. A fire broke out in the exhibition hall in the middle of the night. Didn't you hear about it?"

"No! God, what's with Nick's paintings?"

"All safe, don't worry. But some of the others are destroyed and the busts and bronze sculptures."

"Shit. That's a shame. Was it an accident?"

"The police experts said yes. What else could it be? Maybe a defective wire or something."

He watched Kay as he put on his short leather jacket, grabbed a motorcycle helmet and unlocked the door from the outside.

"I suppose you've got your car?" Kay asked. "My motorcycle is in the parking garage."

"You're a motorcycle freak? Well, I used to have one too in my wild years."

Kay laughed as they went downstairs, "That's long time ago, eh? At least 20 years!" he teased. "Hey why don't you leave your car in the car park and come with me? There's a free place behind my back."

"In these clothes? I'd freeze my ass off!"

"Oh come on, you wimp! It's got to be fun! It isn't that far away."

"Where to? To your home?"

Kay grinned. "Where else do you think?"

Sebastian thought a moment and decided he liked the idea.

Kay was a breakneck driver and more than once Sebastian had to close his eyes as they swerved dangerously near to other cars, but Kay weaved skilfully through the traffic so it wasn't long indeed until they reached the freshly built block of flats in the Museumsinsel Quarter. Sebastian got off stretching and rubbing his cold face. "One minute more and I'd have turned into a block of ice!"

Kay laughed and pointed to the whitewashed building. "My flat is up there, last floor. There's a breathtaking view."

Sebastian looked up and nodded. "I can imagine."

"Wow!" exclaimed Sebastian as he walked over to the window, "You're right. It is indeed breathtaking!" He looked over the river, squeezed between the banks, where a stone bridge decorated with two obelisks crossed to the classic building of the National Gallery and a pergola led the way into the huge concourse. The streetlamps bathed the scene in a soft, yellow light.

Then he turned to look around. The living room was filled with modern glass and steel furniture but in spite of this still seemed comfortably cosy.

Kay came in with two wine glasses and a plate full of cold meat sandwiches.

"You must earn a lot to be able to afford such a flat."

Kay grinned. "I've rich parents. Hungry?"

Sebastian's eyes sparkled. "Hungry for you." He took the glasses from Kay's hand, drained the contents of one and put it back on the low glass table. Then he stepped to Kay, and began to unbutton his jeans. He whispered, "You are a bit overdressed, sweetie."

Kay felt completely taken over, but he liked it. It was a long time ago since a man had made him so crazy that he forgot all those arts of seduction he was very proud of and just obeyed the desires of a stranger.

He found himself in the bedroom, Sebastian kissing and licking every inch of his body and he enjoyed it. Sebastian was wild and tender at the same time and when Kay thought it was over, Sebastian began a new game, which was almost more than Kay could bear, until he laid sweating and panting but happy in Sebastian's arms, his eyes wide open.

"Still hungry?" he heard his sultry voice.

"Completely satisfied, baby." Kay said huskily. "For now."

Sebastian chuckled but found he had to try to dismiss the image of Nicholas' face which kept appearing in front of his inner eye. But then he got up and asked, "Where's the bathroom, sweetie? Want to share it with me?"

Later they dived into the food and searched in Kay's fridge for other things to eat. Sebastian wore Kay's robe and went into the bedroom again to pull on his clothes.

In the corner of the room stood a computer and the table was filled with boxes of letters, cards and notes. Interested Sebastian stepped closer and inspected the mess. There were several disks and small books and a handwritten sheet of paper, apparently a letter. Curious he took it and read the signature. Simon.

Sebastian looked more closely.

"... need more money. My credit card is stolen and I'm completely broke, I

want you to help me, cannot stand it any longer. Found a pad where I can

live but when I don't pay they will throw me out. The address is Kopernikus-

str. 34a, second yard, left. Ring Hoffmann.

Love, Simon"

"What are you doing? I thought you'd stay the night with me?" he heard Kay behind him. Quickly he dropped the letter and turned. Almost without thinking he said, "What's this game you're playing? If this is a letter from the Simon I know, then tell me what's going on."

Kay stood dumbfounded for a moment, then he shouted "What are you doing with my stuff?"

"Why do you leave it lying around?" Sebastian answered. "Calm down," he said then more quietly. "Please explain it to me. Do you know Simon? I know you have been told the story. You know that Nick is looking for him. Is it the same Simon?"

Kay sighed barely audible and stepped closer. "Yes." His head dropped. "He's my brother."

It was one of the rare moments that Sebastian was lost for words.

"What?"

"Marcus never mentioned that Simon had a brother?" Kay asked.

Sebastian rummaged in his mind. He sat down at the chair in front of the computer and again picket up the letter. "Yes, I believe he did mentioned it, but it's so long ago. He never met him. But I certainly can't remember his name was Kay."

He looked closely at the young man, standing a bit embarrassed beside the dishevelled bed, looking down at his naked feet.

"Come here to me," Sebastian said finally. He motioned him to sit on his lap. Kay did what he wanted and buried his face into Sebastian's hair.

His voice was a bit muffled but Sebastian could make out the words. "I'm sorry about this. At first I hated Marcus because he was the cause of Simon's trouble ... I thought. After all, he drove him into the arms of other men, he was so bored all the time..."

"Ah, and because he was bored he had to fuck around!"

"No, it's..." Kay looked into Sebastian's grey-green eyes. They sparkled with with scarcely suppressed anger. "Ok. Yes, eventually I came to the same conclusion. It wasn't Marcus fault. Everybody is responsible for his own life. But you know Simon, too. He was so young and didn't care about himself."

"Yes," Sebastian said bitter, "and he didn't care about Marcus. He recklessly slept with Marcus again, not caring if he could have infected him or not, right?"

"Right", Kay said quietly.

"Great. Now, what's your real name? I suppose Kay is a nickname ... for what?"

"Kristian."

"Kristian." Sebastian nodded. "Yeah, this was the name... Anyway, why did you change your mind? Why didn't you tell Nick that you are Simon's brother?"

"I don't know anymore. It was only a game I wanted to play."

"A game. Well, I don't understand this, but anyway tell me what's happened. Did you go to the - ", he looked at the letter, " - Kopernikusstrasse?"

"Yes. But it was too late. Simon had gone and nobody knew where. I've searched in all clubs he used to go to but nobody had seen him. It is as if he's vanished like a dream. And then this Nick came and brought me his picture and I saw a hope, but so far I've had no reaction. It's frustrating."

Sebastian stroked his hair soothingly.

Kay went on, "He said he had no money, so what he's doing now? And he's infected, and if I know my brother that's another reason for him to lead a wild life. He'd feel he has nothing more to lose."

Sebastian didn't know what to say. It was unbelievable. But certainly he knew now where those gestures of Kay's that he'd found so familiar had come from.

"Now," he grinned a half grin, "what shall I call you? Kay or Kristian?"

Kay looked up and smiled. "Kay of course. I'm used to it now."

"And your parents pay for all this, I see now", Sebastian said, gesturing rounf at the flat. "And what are your plans now? I don't think it's a good idea to hide your identity from Marcus and Nick, do you?"

Kay shook his head.

"Ok. I guess it's easier for two of us to search for your brother. I'm sure we will find him somewhere."

"You aren't cross with me?"

If Sebastian ever had such a feeling it was gone by now. He had found a completely unexpected side to the young man, a vulnerable and soft side.

Suddenly he thought of Nicholas and realised how much he would have given if the lad sitting in his lap had been Nicki. But as Kay had so rightly said, Nick was Marcus' own and he - Sebastian - would never willingly take away someone Marcus truly cared for.

He sighed.

"Shall I stay with you?"

"Yes, please."

"Good. We have to make plans."

"Plans?" Kay was already grinning. "You don't know MY plans for you!"

"Huh?"

Without a word Kay stood up and pulled Sebastian out of his chair and onto the bed. "These plans..." Kay whispered. He pulled Sebastian's pullover up his belly and kissed the naked skin. "You are certainly overdressed, sweetie!"

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me that you are leaving so soon for New York?" Nicholas asked as they sat in front of the TV and watched the local news. The newscaster was reporting at that moment the fire in Marcus exhibition hall. There was a statement from Senator Fischer and from Marcus himself.

"You look good on TV!" Nicholas said.

Marcus snorted and pressed Nicholas' body closer to his. "But I did tell you that I have to fly to New York!"

"Yes, but you didn't tell me WHEN!"

"Come on, baby, you've got a weak memory! Don't you remember my appointments schedule? I'm a busy man. Where do you think all this comes from?" He made a movement that included the interior of the room, the scarlet-upholstered chairs with their low legs and high backs clustered around a heavy, square table, the cupboards with precious carvings, the chests and sideboards, the tapestries on the opposite wall beside the fireplace decorated with naked male Caryatids.

Nicholas inspected the figure of the jackal-headed Egyptian god Anubis sitting upon it and next to him the flat bronze bowl which came from Pompeii. It was a strange mixture but somehow everything seemed to fit so well together. His look was struck by a 'voliere' - an artistic cage made of brass which stood in front of the large window. Stretched around the bars was a tracery made of copper-wires. It stood upon a graceful flower-painted sideboard. Nick loved it and he could easily imagine little birds twittering inside it. And he knew that in Marcus' cellar was a vast collection of Wedgewood-cameos and watches, bracelets, combs and rings.

"I thought it all came from your parents" he said finally.

"Some of it certainly but I have to do my share as well. I can't sit here the whole day and count the flies on the wall! By the way, what's the problem? You'll be coming with me of course!"

"No, I don't come with you!"

Marcus shifted his position on the couch and looked at the young man.

"Why not?"

"Because I hate flying. I get sick if I fly. And anyway new term at the Academy starts next week. I can't miss it especially not at the start. Surely you can understand this?"

"Oh." Marcus thought a moment. "So you will be stay here alone? Well, it isn't that long, only a week at the most."

"A whole week?" Nicholas exclaimed dramatically. "But how shall I survive it?"

Then he grinned. "Only a joke. I'll certainly not die." He paused a moment.

"But how often do you have to fly around the world?"

"Often."

"Hm. And every time you'll leave me alone here? So now it's me who will have to count the flies on the wall?"

"Come on, don't be so stupid. You lived alone before you met me."

"But it's different now. I want to live with you and not with your... picture hanging next to my bed!"

"Ah, you are awful! You're acting like a housewife complaining that her husband's always away but still leading a wonderful life with the money he earns!"

Nicholas said nothing. "So you think I'm a sponger only wanting you for your money?"

Marcus sensed that Nicholas was seriously hurt.

"I'm sorry. I didn't meant to say this. But you must accept that I led my life before you entered it and I can't change it all of a sudden. I'm sorry that you get air sick Surely there is something you can take to prevent it?"

"Yes, tablets or something. That's not the problem. But do you always have to fly? Can't you go to ... Frankfurt or Hamburg were we can go by car?"

Marcus shook his head. "There's nothing for me at those places, honey." He pulled him back to his chest. "I'll give you gladly everything I have. And I'm happy if you'll share it with me. What else is the point of having all this money? It must be spent."

Nicholas feeling himself reconciled to an extend, leaned over and began to kiss Marcus' neck below the earlobe which caused Marcus to giggle. They jumped as the phone rang. "Heavens! I should have turned the damn thing off when we are together." Marcus muttered but stood up and went to answer it.

At first he heard nothing but then there was a hollow, male voice which sounded as if it came from overseas saying "I am really sorry that the whole room didn't go up in flames. Really sorry. It would had been more fun." The words were spoken almost casually, so Marcus needed time before the meaning sank in.

"Hello?" Marcus shouted, "who's that?"

"You'll know soon enough." Again the calm, controlled, somewhat flat voice. "Your precious little boy is safe?" Marcus sensed that the toneless voice laughed amused. "Again, what a pity. Watch out the next time."

"Hello?" The line was dead. Confused Marcus stood and stared at the receiver, then slowly put it back.

"Who was it? Wrong number?"

Marcus shook his head. "I'm not sure", he said and went slowly back to the couch.

"Couldn't you hear?" Nicholas insisted.

"Yes, someone making stupid jokes, I guess."

"Stupid jokes?" Nicholas asked.

"About the fire. Only some silly person who gets his kicks from making stupid calls. Don't worry about it."

He sat beside Nicholas and stared at the telephone. "Your precious little boy is safe?" the flat voice was still ringing in his ears. Suddenly Marcus began to sweat. What if there was a connection between the mugging in the toilet at the "Moonbreaker" and the fire in the exhibition hall? But what possible reason could there be for it?

"You ok?"

Marcus turned his head and nodded slowly.

"That's good, then we can continue where we were interrupted." And he grabbed Marcus rather limp body and pressed his lips on Marcus'.

"You still didn't tell exactly when you have to go", he murmured.

"Huh? Um, in three days."

"Three days! Well, then we shouldn't miss an hour..."