The Lizard - 4. Part 4 - Inverno (Winter)

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1

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It was winter in Luca's heart.

He had spent the night in a cell at the police station. His mud soaked clothes had become heavier and colder with every minute. And he was sure he would never forget the cracking of Raniero's skull.

Alessandro had been taken away separately and was being interrogated by Vito who could add two and two together.

Luca shared his prison-cell with Giano, Tino and Rosso. All three looked as miserable as Luca himself and his brother and friends had suffered several cuts to their faces and hands. Rosso's knuckles were torn and he had smeared blood across his cheek as he tried to wipe away the blood dripping from his nose. Giano's blond hair was a muddy-brown as Luca assumed his own to be. Tino held his elbow and grimaced in pain when he moved it. All four were pale like an icy sunrise in winter and shivered from adrenaline withdrawal. "He's dead, isn't he", Rosso asked soundless. "I heard the cracking."

"Sandro must have hit his temple", Giano said muffled. He held Luca's hands, bridging the gap between the wooden bed to the wooden bed standing opposite on the side walls of the cell. Luca stared at him as if Giano would know the answer to what was going to happen. Would Sandro be sentenced for manslaughter? Or would he be allowed extenuating circumstances because it was self-defence? But what if a clever attorney turned the truth completely around accusing Alessandro and his gang of appearing at the battle field with the clear intention of wanting to kill?

After an endless time the door to the room was pushed open. "Please come out", a voice said and Luca was relieved to see Vittorio and his colleague Carlo Lanfranco. "After I've taken your statement to protocol you all can go home. Your father's here to pick you up", he added, looking at Luca and Giano.

"What about Dante and Marcello?" Giano asked.

"They can go as well. You will all be charged with causing public offence, brawling. Some of you will have to answer to charges of drug abuse, kidnapping and unlawful detention." Vito locked his eyes with Luca's.

"And Alessandro?" he asked breathlessly.

"I hope he knows a good lawyer", Vito said.

A stone fell into the pit of Luca's stomach. He felt Giano touching his arm. "Can I see him?"

"Not yet. His wounds are being taken care of."

Giano increased the pressure of his hand. "Someone has to look at my friend", he said, pointing at Tino. "His arm hurts badly."

Vito nodded and left Tino to one of his colleagues. "Please call me when you're ready to leave, yes?" Giano said and stroked his hand over Tino's hair. Then he followed Vito across the narrow hallway and entered the visitor's room. Niccolò stood near the door, his face unreadable to the brothers. Only his eyes expressed an all- consuming lack of understanding and something more: a father's hurt pride. Wordlessly he received his sons, Rosso trotted behind them.

Luca didn't dare to ask whether they were waiting for the brothers, but followed Niccolò's broad back which stomped off in front of him. The group reached the deserted Piazza Signoria. It was too early for the gathering of tourist groups. Niccolò stopped at the Neptune-fountain and calmly pulled his handkerchief from his pocket. He wet it and cleaned first Luca's face, then Giano's. As calm as before he took a tissue from Rosso's hand and cleaned away the traces of blood from his face. "No reason to scare Mamma", he said. Then he hesitated. "How about breakfast? You must all be hungry."

Since no one dared to object, they trotted behind Niccolò into the tavola selva. Niccolò loaded his tray with marmalade and honey, cornetti and tramezzini. The boys followed with a jug filled with steaming hot coffee and milk. They sat near the panoramic window. Nobody talked. Rosso hesitated in grabbing something to eat although he was so hungry he could have eaten an elephant.

"And now you will tell me what prompted decent boys like you to allow yourself to become involved in such a fight", Niccolò started. "I'd like to know so I know what to tell your mother. And you, Rosso? it's best you start."

"Alessandro received a SMS from Luca saying that he was being held at the Casino near the stadium", Giano chimed in, putting his hand upon Rossos forearm. "Marcello and Dante stopped him on the streets and kidnapped him. Alessandro gathered us to go rescue him."

Just at the moment he said that, he knew how ridiculous it must sound to his father. Niccolò's facial expression had clouded over to the utmost. "Kidnapped? On the open street? Your brothers? Why would they do something stupid like that?"

"Because they hate us, Pappa. We doesn't work as they want us to be and therefore..." Giano was unsure how to continue.

"Therefore I was to be taught a lesson", Luca mumbled, tugging at his cornetto, plucking the soft content and stuffing it into his mouth. Everybody was looking at him. Lucas' cheeks reddened. "Carmelia was there - or whatever her name was. She..." Luca started to stutter. "She... wanted." Lucas head flung up and he glared coolly at his father. "She was naked and she wanted to fuck me. That I should lose my virginity."

Niccolò gasped. Then he shook his head. Rosso burnt his tongue on the hot coffee. Giano's cheeks were as flushed as Lucas. "Madonna."

"Your brother's ideas are really strange." Niccolò said then, stirring sugar into his coffee.

"Well," Rosso said finally with quiet voice. "I guess that's the final attempt of a heterosexual to cure a homosexual, if you know what I mean, Signore Montori."

Niccolò cursed suppressed. "And then you sent Alessandro this, er, S-thing and he came to your rescue, right? And you were all with him."

"I didn't want to", Luca said. "But things got out of hand."

"And now the Gondi-boy is sitting in custody, being accused of manslaughter."

"It was self-defence!" Giano almost shouted. "We can all give evidence. Riefoli wanted to rape Luca. He was the one who raped Tristano and the callboy."

Niccolò said nothing, just looked from one to the other. "Nonetheless the boy is dead. A mother has lost her son. Alessandro will be punished."

There was silence at the table. Everyone looked down at his plate. What did this mean to the plans Sandro had? Luca thought. For his study. For Leoni and the baby. For the inheritance. And finally, for his relationship with Luca.

"Eat", Niccolò's voice reached his ear. He looked up and saw a well- meaning shimmer in his father's eyes. "He has always been a wild boy. He must do what he has to do." Niccolò hesitated. "Perhaps he did it for love."

Tears shot into Lucas eyes and he blinked.

Giano's mobile beeped. It was Tino telling him that he was out of prison with a chipped bone in his forearm. Fifteen minutes later he joined them at the table, wolfing away the tramezzini and emptying the coffee jug. "Thank goodness no one who knows us has seen us here considering the state we're in", he said, finally leaning back and wiping his mouth with the serviette.

"Right", Niccolò began, "and therefore we should all go home. I hope your mother won't have a fit", he said to Rosso but he waved him off. "Probably we're the headlines in all newspapers today anyway."

Luca shivered. Of course. The newspapers. "What will you do with Dante and Marcello, Pappa?" he asked when they left the self-service restaurant. Niccolò didn't answer.

* * * * *

Arrigo entrusted the family lawyer Stefano Fergola with the task of defending his nephew. Arrigo had been furious to no end when he heard about Alessandro's escapade as he called it. At least Fergola had managed to get Alessandro free on bail with the condition that he had to check in at the police station once a week and he wasn't allowed to leave the town. So he could forget about his studies in Pisa. He could forget it anyway since he was only waiting for the start of his trail which could last until the start of the next year.

Luca waited for him at the entrance of the remand prison on the outskirts of Florence. He watched Alessandro halting his steps, and breathing in deeply the clammy air. It was the end of October and frost hung in the air. Perhaps this winter would be one of the rare ones when Florence would be covered with snow and big ice floes would float down the river. Then he saw Luca and his face started to radiate. He hurried to him, let his bag fall and embraced Luca. "I've missed you terribly", he muttered into Luca's ear, then he picked up his bag and dragged Luca to the waiting taxi.

Although only five days had passsed since the unfortunate night, Alessandro looked as if he had spent three months in jail. He was unshaven - well, one could hardly call it down - but there were rings under his eyes too. He smelled like curd soap, damp bed sheets and sadness. Desperately he held Luca's hand until the taxi stopped in front of his Palazzo. Luca turned the heavy iron key and opened the oak wood door. "You locked it?" Alessandro asked, surprised.

"I always lock the door. It's not a good idea to leave your home open."

"So? You think it will be plundered because the noble Gondi has made a bloody mess of his life?"

"I've moved in with Tristano" Luca interrupted him. Alessandro, one foot already into the elevator, turned to him. "With Tris?"

"Someone had to look after him when he came home." Luca pushed Alessandro into the elevator and pressed the button.

"What about the policeman?"

"Tris is in a bad state, you've seen him. He doubts everything. He can't think of amorous things right now. I thought you'd understand."

Alessandro looked at him all the time. "Amorous things?" he repeated.

"Yeah, how would you feel if your arse had been ripped and torn brutally just because you're gay? Imagine, those straights have the cheek to stuff their cocks into the shit-holes they actually despise so much", Luca spat. "And they actually get a hard on! It should have a meaning to them."

Alessandro stood mute and looked at his boyfriend. He had never heard such obscene words from his mouth. Then he nodded in agreement. "It's not only about getting a hard on, Luca. It's about power." He paused. "Are you sleeping there then? Actually I had imagined my home-coming differently."

"Of course I'm here with you", Luca said impatiently and stepped out of the elevator.

"Is Tris happy about Riefoli's death?" Alessandro stood in the middle of his room and looked around as if he was seeing it for the first time.

Luca didn't answer.

"Fergola told me he will fight for extenuating circumstances", Alessandro said with quiet voice. "Youth custody. You will have to testify in court."

Luca's voice was conciliatory "At least you did it for me. I'll do everything I can." Suddenly weak he stepped forward and fell into Alessandro's arms. He kissed him as if it was the first time and then shoved him into the bathroom where they shared a luxurious bath together. Alessandro had a plaster covering a flesh wound on his side where Raniero's nails hat hurt him, but it didn't seem to bother him too much.

Luca leaned back into Alessandro's arms and absentminded made little heaps from the foam. He sensed more than he saw that his boyfriend shivered inwardly. It was as if the paltriness of the prison's cell was deeply carved into his soul. And Alessandro couldn't let it out.

"Marcello and Dante don't speak to me", Luca started haltingly. "They treat me like empty air. The morning after we had been released I heard Pappa shouting in the kitchen. I've never seen him so angry. I don't know if it's a good sign."

Alessandro stroked Luca's upper body, over his hips and his thighs as much as he could reach. "I did it for you", he whispered, ignoring Luca's words. "Something ticked out when I saw you under Riefoli's body. I saw his naked butt as he tried to enter you. I ... don't regret it."

Luca took one of Alessandro's hands and kissed it. Luca didn't argue that he would have been able to get himself out of the situation without Alessandro and the others coming to his aid. On the other hand - he wasn't sure what Riefoli had in store for him. And he had called for help with his SMS, so wasn't he responsible for all this? He sighed almost inaudible.

"When they sentence me... will you wait for me?"

Luca's heart had never hurt as much before. "I will", he said simply and meant what he said. Despite his constricted throat he turned cautiously without too much water slopping over the rim and kissed Alessandro deeply. "Let's get out of here before we mutate into frogs", Alessandro said after he had caught his breath again.

*

Luca felt every muscle in his tired body when he woke up to a dull morning. A smell of rotten leaves and exhaust fumes was seeping into the room. Thankfully he remembered that he didn't need to go to work for Coppo been very understanding and had given him time off. Sleepily he snuggled to Alessandro's body who embraced him without waking up.

They were woken up by the ringing of Alessandro's mobile. Blindly he grabbed for his jacket and answered it. It was Stefano Fergola who wanted to make an appointment. He informed him that the trial would start on the 3rd of November, which was in two weeks time. Astonished Luca raised his eyebrows. That early? That had to be a record for Italian law courts. Probably Arrigo and the mayor had their hands in it and forced the early start of the trial. It was embarrassing enough that the mayor's nephew had a charge of manslaughter hanging over him. Fergola had negotiated that the original impeachment - murder - had been dropped. Fergola convinced the public prosecutor that Alessandro and his gang hadn't gone to the Casino with the intention of killing anybody.

Luca lured him back to bed and warmed Alessandro's cold feet. "Two weeks, carino", Alessandro muttered. He had buried his head in the nape of Luca's neck, bathing in his scent. "What do you think I'll get for manslaughter? Five years?"

Luca was startled. Five years? Impossible. "You will certainly get less", he said firmly, but his voice betrayed his emotions.

"Four or five years, it doesn't make much difference." Alessandro stroked his palm over Luca's waist, hip and along his thigh. He would miss the silky feeling for sure. He would miss everything that was Luca's personality.

"A difference in what case?" Luca asked.

"I'll set you free. Who knows who you will meet in the meantime."

Luca rolled upon Alessandro's body. "That's not seriously meant, is it?"

"It is." Alessandro blinked away the pain in his eyes. "If you don't meet someone it will be great. If you do, I won't be mad at you."

Luca closed his eyes. At this very moment he was mad with Alessandro. But deep down he knew that Alessandro was only being fair with him.

* * * * *

Carolina was feeding the fish and watched them for a while. "It was nice of Luca to look after you", she said then. She turned to Tristano sitting upon his sofa with a soft cushion under his bottom. "But Alessandro's been released for the moment and he wants to be with him, he said. He promised to come every day though."

"He doesn't have to. I'll come and look after you." She sat beside him and sipped at her tea cup. Slipping off her shoes she pulled her legs up on the sofa and acted like she felt at home. Tristano had a queasy feeling in his stomach.

"This crap wouldn't have happened if you hadn't decided to be gay", she said calmly. Her face vanished almost behind the big cup as Tristano stared at her. "I didn't decide to be gay!" he exclaimed.

"Well, at first you weren't, right? You slept with me and you were happy."

Tristano inwardly rolled his eyes. Had he been happy? He couldn't exactly remember.

"But if you return to your normal lifestyle you won't ever have fears. You won't be raped again. You know how many morons there are outside." Caro put her hand upon Tristano's arm and stroked it up and down. "We had a good time, Tris. I still love you. We don't have to talk about Luca and all that. He doesn't want you anyway."

Tristano said nothing. He stared at his aquarium.

"And your affair with the callboys... what did you think that you would find there, eh?" Caro continued. "That nasty sex all the time. Wasn't it obnoxious to be with them while tons of other guys had used them previously?"

Tristano's head flung around. "It wasn't obnoxious being around them. They were sexy."

Caro raised her eyebrows. "Sexy?" she snarled as if she was talking about rats.

Tristano brought his face close to hers. "You would find them sexy. You just talk about the grapes that you can't reach."

Carolina cackled with laughter. Somehow it sounded false in Tristano's ears. The doorbell rang and Carolina jumped up to answer the door. When Tristano heard the all too familiar voice his heart started to pound. Vittorio appeared in the doorway, laden with two bags. Irritated he looked from Carolina to Tristano.

Tristano beamed. "Vito! How nice. I see you are going to cook?" Cautiously he rose from his sofa. Vito, instinctively realizing the situation, said, "Stay put. I'll take this in to the kitchen."

Carolina stared at Tristano. "Isn't that the carabiniero, the one who interrogated you?"

Tristano nodded, still beaming.

"Great, then I'm superfluous." She put on her anorak and scarf. "You still haven't had enough, have you, Tristano. It must feel extraordinarily good to have a truncheon up your arse." She opened the door and banged it closed behind her.

Tristano sighed loudly and Vito exited the kitchen. "Trouble?"

"Yeah. But what did you in mind? Did you really came here to cook?"

"Sure. Tonight I'll use up my overtime. Come." Each step gave Tristano pain, but it was getting better each day. Vittorio had spread all kind of vegetables over the kitchen table. "You like tuna? It's fresh from the market." He showed him the dark red pieces of fish.

Tristano nodded. "Can you cook or shall I?"

Vittorio laughed. "I'm old enough to be able to cook. And here," he presented a bottle of wine. "Best South-African wine. What do you say?"

Tristano swallowed and looked at him. Vito's black eyes radiated and the presence of his body so close to his own was overwhelming. And yet, he backed away. He didn't want to be touched. "Great", he croaked. Vito came even closer. "You aren't afraid of me, are you?" he said with his best gentle voice.

Tristano slipped away and examined the vegetable. "This is excellent. How will you prepare the artichokes?"

"Don't evade me, Tris. I see fear in your eyes." But Vito remained where he was and didn't try to press Tristano. "Go and relax for a while. I'll take care of all this. Where are your pans?"

A delicious scent wafted through Tristano's flat as he laid the table next to the window where he had sat with Luca so often. Before all this shit had happened.

"Was she your girlfriend? I've seen her occasionally at the hospital." Vito asked. He cut the tuna which had a small raw stripe in the middle and was melting upon Tristano's tongue.

"She was. And she wants me back."

Vito dipped his leaf of artichoke into a sauce and sucked the bitter-fruity flesh. "She wants you back?" he asked then, putting the remains of the leaf at the rim of his plate. "Why?"

"Why? Because all this would never had happened if I hadn't decided to be gay, to quote her words."

Vito arched his dark brows. "You decided?" he asked in a mocking tone. "I knew right from the start whom to follow."

"Yeah, you. Some people take a bit longer." Tristano slid upon his cushion.

Vito reached out and stroked his palm over Tristano's cheek. "Don't be angry. I can imagine what you have gone through. I've seen many things."

"Nobody can imagine what I've gone through", Tristano objected, flinching at Vito's gentle touch.

"Oh yes, I can. Do you think sexual experiences are always pure joy and fun? I know about sex that hurts."

Tristano looked wide-eyed at him. His broad shoulders under the tight, black shirt. The narrow waist. The deep tanned arms. And his confident, rousing hands.

"So, she thought you would return to her because you don't want to have another nasty experience just because you're gay, right?"

"Right."

"That's pure nonsense, and you know that, Tris. It's as if a raped woman would turn into a lesbian just because she doesn't want to have anything to do with men anymore. Well, perhaps it's understandable. But that's not what it is about. You are what you are. Right from the beginning. You can never turn back. Or do you feel you are bisexual? If yes, I need to go. I couldn't live with that."

"Bisexual?" Tristano's head was spinning. This was all too much for him. "I'm not." He finished his vegetables and tuna until something kicked in. He looked up. "You couldn't live with that?" he asked. "What do you mean? It shouldn't bother you."

Vito lay down his knife and fork and wiped his mouth with the serviette. A sensual mouth with too red lips. Too red for Tristano not to be tempted. He looked into Vito's black eyes and realized how thick his lashes were.

"I thought you would understand the reason I'm here", Vito said quietly. "I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. But you never called me."

"Never called you? I tried every day but you was always on holiday."

"Ouch. That's right. But afterwards. And then I had to find you this way. At our mutual buddy Sergio's." A small grin graced his mouth. Tristano felt something tugging at his heart. Hadn't Alessandro said that he - Tristano - would feel the same again with the right man? Perhaps he was right. He hoped desperately that it was so.

Slowly he reached out and put his hand over Vito's. "Were you ever that badly hurt?" he asked. When Vito shook his head, he continued, "You think it will be the same as before?"

"It will. But even if you never want to do it again.... you can't get rid of me." Vito's eyes sparkled. "There's so much else we can do." He winked.

Tristano almost didn't dare to look into his eyes. But as he did, he felt a knot untying itself within him.

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2

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Alessandro's trial was held separate from Marcello's and Dante's trial. They were accused with dealing in drugs and pills at the Casino; and in addition with the kidnapping and unlawful detention of their brother Luca.

On the 3rd of November, a Tuesday, the families gathered in front of room 389 in Florence' court house. The press weren't allowed inside so they all pushed themselves into the corridor to shoot the best photo of Alessandro di Gondi-Lucertola. He demonstratively held Luca's hand - a fact Luca was proud of. They could think what they wanted. Niccolò had come as well as Giano and his boyfriend Tino, taking a break from their studies. Rosso was there and Carolina as Tristano oddly realized. And Vito was at his side of course. They would all have to give their statements. The trial was expected to last for two days.

Someone tapped upon Tris' shoulder. "Ciao, bello. How are you?" Sergio. He was looking as good as ever. And next to him Alfredo, a bit more slender than he had been before. They had both called regularly to see how Tristano was doing.

"Well...." Tristano pointed helplessly to the mass around them.

"Your new boyfriend?" Sergio asked, looking over to Vito, standing a bit to the side, getting the people under control.

"My friend", Tristano answered. "Perhaps he will be more, some day."

"You should hurry, bello, before someone else takes that gorgeous thing from you." Sergio winked and slapped Tristano's butt. Thankfully it didn't hurt anymore. Alfredo grinned at him. Probably he hadn't had such big problems as Tristano had. Good for him. His eyes searched for Vito. Their eyes met. Gorgeous was the right word, Tristano had to admit to himself. Pure man. Strong in body and mind. Before he could think he had reached Vito and pulled him around the corner, away from the jumble of the crowd. "What other things we can do?" he asked out of the blue.

Vito's face was a question mark. He held Tristano tight though and tried to fight the urge to kiss him. But he hadn't expected Tristano's boldness. He pressed his lips upon the all too red ones and sighed into Vito's mouth. A flash of light illuminated the rather dark corridor. Vito looked up, then he let go of Tristano and marched straight to the press photographer. "No photos are allowed of the witnesses, buddy. Give me the film, please." He stretched out his arm determinedly.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" The photographer, a young Fuzzi with dreadlocks looked amused.

Vito pulled out his police id and held it under dreadlock's nose. "The film is confiscated. Avanti."

Dreadlock muttered something like 'faggots among the police'. Vito took him by the collar of his shabby cord jacket. "Another word and you can say good-bye to your job, capisce?" He took the roll of film and put it into his pocket. Then he shooed dreadlock away. Calmly he turned and asked "What did you ask before?"

Tristano, impressed by Vito's self-assured behaviour, blurted, "I asked when will you be ready to try out all the other things we can do. How about tonight?"

Vito pulled Tristano to his side by his belt and kissed him. "It's about time you asked."

It was a delicate matter. Alessandro had given Fergola the go-ahead to tell the complete truth. Fergola started with the attack on Tristano d'Astangli and Alfredo Domenica. The culprit had turned out to be the late victim Raniero Riefoli. That the circle of young man, gathered around Alessandro Gondi, did not immediately go to police with their information, was due to their youth.

One after the other Tristano and Alfredo had to give evidence, then Luca. Fergola stated the details of the close relationship between Alessandro and Luca Montori and justified Alessandro's strong motive, to help him out of his predicament.

Vito watched the reactions of the judge and public prosecutor. Surprise was painted on both faces. Especially when after a break the door opened once more and Leoni da Firenzuola di Gondi-Lucertola entered the hall. A slight baby-belly stood out under her coat. She flitted to the last row and sat next to Arrigo, Alessandro's uncle.

Alessandro grew a shade paler, but immediately he lifted his head and stared straight into nothing. At any other time he would have enjoyed this trial and the attention it brought. But today all he wanted was for it to end. He knew what was waiting for him and he had no illusions that he would escape unharmed out of this predicament. For a long time he had gone through the months that he would have to spend alone in youth custody, separated from everything that had made his life liveable. But hadn't it been always that way? Hadn't he always been alone? His eyes searched for Luca, sitting bravely in the first row next to the other witnesses and tried to smile at him.

"I think the strong ... let's call it by its name, signores e signori ... relationship between Alessandro Gondi and Luca Montori contends a strong motive for Alessandro Gondi." The prosecutor started with controlled and accentuated words. "Luca Montori's friend Tristano d'Astangli had been hurt. He had been hurt badly. To be precise: he had been raped." He paused for effect. "The public prosecutor's office has discovered that the murdered Raniero Riefoli and two of his... " he lifted his shoulders, and obviously searched for the right words, "friends?" he suggested, looking around, "was the culprit, the DNA-test has convicted him post mortem. So far so good." He paused and licked his lips.

"The motive for the rape was the hatred of homosexuals. When Alessandro Gondi heard that his boyfriend Luca Montori had been held at the aforementioned Casino he tried everything to liberate him and to take revenge. Alessandro Gondi had learnt that this Casino was Riefoli's favourite hide-out, after the police had searched for him to no avail. When Alessandro Gondi did not go to the police department to report his hypothesis, it is to be assumed that he intended to start a personal retaliation campaign."

The prosecutor paused once more. He rose from his chair and looked directly at the judge. "Alessandro di Gondi-Lucertola had the full intention of starting a fight. He was full of scorn. Remember, his friend had been so badly hurt that a hospital stay was necessary and his boyfriend Luca Montori was in danger. He feared, Luca Montori would share the same fate as Tristano d'Astangli. And therefore he was not bothered in the least how hard he hurt Raniero Riefoli. Alessandro Gondi wanted revenge, no matter what evil it would bring. And he got it. He took the stone and let it crash mercilessly upon Raniero Riefoli’s skull. Alessandro Gondi is a clever guy, he must have known what force a stone of that weight would carry."

Alessandro jumped up, his face red. "I never had any intention of killing anyone. Those filthy swine just got what they deserved!" Fergola dragged him down and hissed some words into his ear.

The judge ogled at Alessandro while the prosecutor sat down and looked up to the judge who indicated to Stefano Fergola to begin his speech.

"Signore Giudice. Much was said today. I stress that it was the wish of my client Alessandro Gondi to tell the complete truth without exception. It is his wish that you learn his real intentions." His eyes briefly touched Leoni. "It is no secret in this town that Alessandro Gondi - though married - feels attracted to his own gender. In a modern, tolerant town like Firenze it never was a problem. Until intolerance started to visit us, creeping into our town, forced on by ignorance, brutality and stupidity. The late Raniero Riefoli obviously belonged to this category of human. He and his gang broke into the circle of young man who did not pursue any other thing in their lives except to be happy."

A disapproving sound came from the prosecutor's side.

Fergola shot him a glance. "We contest Alessandro Gondi wanted to take revenge. All he wanted was to prevent his boyfriend Luca Montori becoming another victim of rape. This, and nothing else, was his sole intention when he challenged Raniero Riefoli on the evening of the 15th October. It was neither a cowardly ambush nor a surprise attack. The gang of Raniero Riefoli had to have been prepared that Luca Montori's absence would not remain unnoticed. Therefore they were prepared for a fight with any help they could get."

He paused and glared at the prosecutor. "Everything you said before is in Alessandro Gondi's favour. His boyfriend was in the clutches of a rapist. Alessandro Gondi feared his boyfriend would endure the same brutal attack and rape as Tristano d'Astangli had to endure. This was a strong motive to start a fight to rescue him. Nothing more. Our witnesses have given statements that Raniero Riefoli fought hard and threatened Alessandro Gondi's life."

"Thank you Signore Fergola", said the judge. "The prosecutor has here some informative photos." He handed them over to the court usher and he gave them Fergola. "I take it you know of these photos?"

Stefano Fergola took them. "Yes, Signore Giudice." Alessandro bent over them and then jerked back. They were photos taken shortly after Tristano's arrival at the hospital.

"You see the injuries?" the judge asked.

"I see them", Fergola said.

"Don't you believe that this sight was reason enough to set free hatred against the culprits?" the prosecutor asked. "Unbridled hate which had to be satisfied? Alessandro Gondi wanted to hurt the offender as much as his friend had been hurt. Even more so. He wanted to let them feel how it was to be bashed. He even would have accepted death."

"I protest decidedly against that. Your statement is pure speculation. You do not know the thoughts of my client."

The judge nodded. "We will close the session for today. We will continue tomorrow 10 o'clock sharp."

Stefano Fergola sorted the papers into his folder and looked at Alessandro. "It will be alright, Sandro. They won't sentence you for manslaughter though I can't promise you an acquittal." His dark eyes with the lachrymal sacks examined Alessandro carefully. "It will probably come down to grievous bodily harm resulting in death." Alessandro reciprocated Fergola's look. He was aware that the judge didn't seem to be very friendly and therefore he hadn't any hope for a lenient sentence.

"I'm at my office, you can call me any time." Fergola rose. "See you tomorrow."

"Thanks for all you've done. I know you're doing your best", Alessandro said what he thought would be appropriate.

Fergola gave him a thin smile and went out of the court room, Arrigo at his side, talking to him.

Luca wanted to hurry to Alessandro but Leoni stepped in his way. She placed herself in front of Alessandro and hissed "You've made a fool of me in front of all these people!"

"Who cares about that now, Leoni?" Alessandro said tiredly, trying to shove her out of his way.

"You forget I carry your baby and my husband...", she lowered her voice. "fucks with boys. What do you think you're doing here? Aren't you ashamed?"

Suddenly Alessandro's face carried such an expression of hatred that Leoni jerked back, startled. He brought his head close to Leoni's face and snarled "This shit I'm sitting into happened because of narrow-minded people like you, Leoni da Firenzuola. Accept what I am. You're paid well for that. And now get out of my sight."

People stood and watched the scene; some with amusement some with deprecation. Pitiful eyes touched Leoni who turned with a beet red face and sailed out, searching for Arrigo. Alessandro's somewhat regretful stare followed her. But he hadn't the desire to care for his wife. In his thoughts he chewed at the word wife and spat it out. He had other problems now.

Luca waited for him at one side. He took his arm and dragged him out into the corridor. They were awaited by photographers who shot photos of the couple which would make the headlines in the tomorrow's newspapers. Vito went to stop them, but Alessandro didn't bother. His coming out was now official and his marriage with Leoni has been outed as a complete farce. Good. He wrapped his arm around Luca's waist and kissed his ear. He hoped the photos would be great.

Vito grinned at him from behind, his arms folded in front of his chest. "Good show, Alessandro. See you tomorrow then."

"No way, you're coming with us", Alessandro objected. "Let's celebrate the first day of my trial."

"Celebrate?" they asked unison.

"Work is calling", Vito said, lifting Tristano's chin and giving him a brief kiss. Tristano looked disappointed. Vito whispered into his ear "I call you later, promise."

"Alright then ", Alessandro said, " let's go." He took Luca's hand.

Tristano stood in the kitchen of Palazzo Gondi and together with Tino cooked Spaghetti Bolognese. Tino stirred the meat in a huge pan, chopping tomatoes and mushrooms and wondered about the madness of having a banquet on this actually sad day. Alessandro had plundered his wine cellar. When everyone was seated around the large kitchen table Alessandro toasted. "It's good to have friends", he said. "Although I'm not sure if I deserve them." He screwed up one eye. "Or why." He looked into the half-grinning faces and emptied his glass in one go. Then he threw the glass over his shoulder where it smashed on the kitchen wall. "That's how the Russians do, right?" he exclaimed. "Drink and forget and start once more."

Luca stared confused at him. He was putting on his own fare-well party although there was still one day of trial left. He must be convinced that he would be sentenced for a long time. "Eat", Alessandro said after he had taken another glass and had poured himself more of the wine. "Tris, you outdid yourself", he grinned and winked at Tino. "And you should apply for the position of his kitchen-boy when he opens his first ristorante."

"You have to go into prison tomorrow?" Luca asked, when the laughing had subsided.

"Fergola says no. I have a few days left." He locked his eyes with Luca's; a promise to use them well. "And now let's not talk about it, alright? Tell me about Pisa instead", he said to Giano. "Have you been in the pathology lab already?"

"Madonna, no. Not in this semester."

Tino grinned at him meaningfully.

*

A bit tipsy Tristano returned home and decided not to wait for Vittorio's call. Probably a policeman was never off-duty. In that case he wouldn't be disappointed. But he was about to pour himself a glass of water when the doorbell rang. Of course it was Vito and Tristano's heart suddenly pounded in his throat. Vito's sight always knocked him over; his physical presence was overwhelming though not threatening in any way. From behind his back he conjured a single white rose and grinned mischievously. "I found out you like roses."

Tristano wished Vito couldn't see his blush. Why was he so damn shy with this man? Vito peeled off his jeans jacket. Under it he wore a black polo-neck jumper. He looked staggering handsome and Tristano hurried into the kitchen to put the rose into a tall glass. "You want something to drink?" he shouted into the room and immediately returned with his bottle of water and another glass. "Oh, you surely won't want to drink water, right?" Like a startled hen he scurried back into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of wine.

Vito stood in the middle of the room with his arms folded in front of his chest and arched brows. Suddenly he caught Tristano, wrenched the bottle from his hand and held him tight. "Why are you so nervous? I'm not going to do you harm." He lifted Tristano's head and placed a soft kiss upon his lips. Tristano didn't struggle, but instead he wrapped his arms around Vittorio's narrow waist. Naturally his body fell against Vito's. He felt the long, fighting fit legs and the broad shoulders. "Water's fine", Vito murmured at his ear. "If I drink alcohol I'd fall asleep instantly." His lips were following a trail from Tristano's ear lobe along his neck to the shoulder. "Say I should stop and I'll stop", he continued to murmur, but Tristano wanted anything but to stop him. Although something deep within him screamed a no, because his body wasn't ready for too much affection.

"Is that your TV in the bedroom?" Vito asked, suddenly listening. "There's something about the trial." He stepped into the small bedroom and set himself in front of the TV. Tristano sat upon his bed and stared at his own face on the screen. "Do I look that shitty?" he mumbled when Vito let himself fall next to him. "Huh?" Vito's eyes started to glisten but then he listened to the man reporting from the courthouse. "I had a thing for Alessandro Gondi", Vito admitted then. "His marriage was really ridiculous. I wondered why he had to do it."

Tristano slid higher upon his bed and kicked off his shoes. "Did you have him too?" he asked.

"Alessandro? No. You?"

Tristano shook his head.

"May I?" Vito had kicked off his shoes too and waited for Tristano's ok to lay beside him. "But you had three-somes with the callboys, right? They are famous for it", Vito said, leaning sighing against a pillow and yawned.

Tristano didn't answer. His whole body was tensed up. And Vito smelled so enticing. It was good to lay next to him. After a moment of silence he realized that Vito had fallen asleep, his head had sunk upon his shoulder and he looked peaceful like a little boy. Tristano grinned. On the TV the German screen adaptation of Donna Leon's "Aqua Alta" started but he couldn't be bothered to watch the unalluring, though most sensitive commissario Guido Brunetti. Instead he leaned against Vito, closed his eyes and cautiously stroked Vito's chest and his face. When his hand slipped under his pullover Vito stirred and opened his eyes with a start. "Shit, did I fall asleep? Damn." He rose to a sort of sitting position and looked down on Tristano. "I'd better go."

Tristano rose likewise. "Then why did you come when you have to go now?" Bolder he grasped Vito's arm and pulled him closer. He didn't know what Vito read in his eyes, but he suddenly pulled his pullover over his head, leaned over and pressed his lips upon Tristano's. Heat radiated from Vito's body and his scent became stronger. Tristano's fingers slid lower and stroked lightly over Vito's abdomen and caressed his thighs. He was sure he felt a bulge that was larger than usual. Vito purred almost inaudibly. "Shall I stay here?" he asked and felt Tristano's nod.

Undressing went almost by itself and it didn't take long until both were naked except for their underwear. The flickering light of the TV-screen illuminated Vito's olive coloured skin. A dark down, almost invisible, spread over his chest. It felt so soft when he embraced Tristano to kiss his neck, letting his hand wander down, pushing back Tristano's tight underpants. Without looking he held Tristano's expanded organ lightly in his palm and rubbed the skin slowly up and down with his thumb. Tristano wanted to scream. But this time with pleasure.

After a deep look into Tristano's eyes, Vito's head disappeared, caressed Tristano's upper body and stopped at his most sensitive part, that was hard as it hadn't been in a long time. And all that Tristano could do was close his eyes and enjoy the pleasure Vito's tongue, mouth and teeth was giving him until he screamed incoherent words in reality.

Vito been stroking himself and as he lay his heavy body upon Tristano's he felt both puddles of semen mingle together. "Was it alright?" he asked quietly. "Shall I go now?"

Tristano opened his eyes. "Are you mad? When do you have to get up?" He held Vittorio very tight and felt the body under his fingers relax. The last thing he thought was that he could easily fall in love again.

* * * * *

Alessandro's friends had given testimony on the second day of the trial. They told how Alessandro had gathered them to help out a friend who had been held in the clutches of some unfriendly, primitive hooligans. It had been a real set-to but nothing else.

Rosso confirmed this statement by telling that Raniero Riefoli was about to rape Luca Montori and before he could go to help Alessandro had flung himself upon Riefoli's body and both had a dangerous fight. He stressed that Riefoli had tried to strangle Alessandro who had taken up the stone in self-defence.

The judge sat sleepily like an overfed frog and glared occasionally at Alessandro. In opposition to his agonized appearance his brain worked quickly and sharply. Point A) Gondi was gay and probably fucking all the other queers in town. Point He was keen on Luca Montori and wanted him for himself. Point C) Luca Montori was at the Casino with dozens of willing girls, ready to increase his range of experience. Point D) Alessandro Gondi wouldn't allow him to fuck with a girl. Point E) Was Luca Montori telling the truth at all? Him being "kidnapped" by his own brothers? Point F) That's ludicrous.

After the lunch break the hooligan's evidence was heard. From all of them saliva had been taken on the same night of the 15th October. Tristano and Alfredo had been confronted with the people present at the Casino. Alfredo had recognized his rapist as well did Tristano his own. They had been quickly found guilty because of the saliva-tests. The rest of the louts, being witnesses to the fight, described Alessandro and his buddies as an armed gang, ready to smash in their heads. In the same breath they assured the judge that Luca Montori was at the Casino voluntarily.

The judge lifted one of his heavy lids and glared again at Alessandro. It was about time that this scum with a noble name came off the streets. And those greasy louts with him. He allowed the woman from the youth welfare office to speak, who described Alessandro as an adolescent who had never needed to be responsible for anyone except himself. He lived for the day. "Everything changed when he met Luca Montori. I got the impression that he developed strong feelings for this young man. I believed that he was caring for him and his welfare. Nonetheless I am convinced that Alessandro Gondi's psychological structure is immature. He is led by feelings and momentary moods, who force him into thoughtless and impulsive actions. If it comes to a sentence, I strongly recommend using the juvenile law."

"Thank you." The judge nodded to her. "We'll close the hearing of evidence here. You have the final word." His heavy eyes looked at Alessandro.

"I have nothing more to say than I didn't intend to kill Riefoli" Alessandro said with firm voice. "It was an accident. I was defending my own life. He deserved a beating. Or is allowed that the bashing of faggots goes unpunished?" Alessandro's eyes glared fierily at the judge. An angry young man who showed no remorse. Mumbling came from the audience.

The judge did not need too long to verbalize his judgement. From his paper he read: "Alessandro di Gondi-Lucertola will be sentenced to three years and eight months for grievous bodily harm resulting in death. I could not find any sign or remorse in the young man.

Alessandro di Gondi-Lucertola is guilty of forming a mob with the intention of selfjustice. The town of Florence can not tolerate this anarchist behaviour. In the result of the brutal fight - it stood at nine versus five - a young man has found his early death and only Alessandro di Gondi-Lucertola is to be held responsible. He will be delivered to the youth custody prison at Poggibonsi. I hope this will be helpful in taming his rebellious being."

Luca flopped back upon his stool, searching for Alessandro whose face was unmoved. Fergola patted his hand and talked quietly to him. Murmurs filled the hall. Giano was taking Luca's hand and he felt Rosso's arm around his shoulder. He shook them all off. He couldn't bear their pity nor their compassion. With a hanging head he left the hall and was caught up by his father. Niccolò had followed the trial until the end, but now he was shocked, especially when he had to see his son. The prospect of the trial of his eldest sons didn't make him happier. Niccolò had given up punishing himself by thinking that it was solely the fault of the Gondi-boy with whom everything had started. Luca was gay and so be it. With all the consequences. He stroked his son's hair and then pulled him into an embrace. It felt strange for Niccolò for he hadn't done it since his sons had reached manhood. But it didn't feel wrong, quite the opposite.

"You motherfucker", hissed close to his ear. Niccolò held the struggling Luca and saw the hooligans gathering as Alessandro exited the hall with his lawyer. "You killed one of us. Look at them!" They pointed to a couple, standing aside, the stout woman eyes brimming with tears, the short, bony man with burning eyes.

Stefano Fergola took Alessandro's arm. "Riefoli's parents", he said with low voice. Alessandro bent his head and passed without looking at them. "Alessandro, you know that with the youth custody there's no chance for an appeal. On Monday I'll pick you up. I advise you to behave well and you'll be out in half of the sentence."

Alessandro nodded absentmindedly. He accepted the sentence anyway, although he still thought it not fair since he had been defending his own life. "Alright", he said gloomily. "But if they think they will break my will, they are mistaken..."

And when he was out, all of them can get lost. With twenty million he could do whatever he wanted. Even take revenge.

*

"It's all my fault. If I hadn't sent that stupid SMS you'd never come and..."

"... killed Raniero." Alessandro's movements ceased inside Luca. Instead he lay his body down upon his boyfriend's and embraced him . "Say it. I killed him. And I don't regret it. The judge was right."

"But you came to my rescue. You were defending your own life. How can they sentence you for that then?"

Alessandro shushed him with kisses. "A human's dead because of me. I need to be punished."

"How noble." Luca almost sobbed, but instantly he took a grip of himself. This final night should not be filled with tears and reproaches.

Alessandro moved gently within him, as deep as he could, considering his position. "Deeper", Luca murmured after a while, forgetting time and place.

Fireworks exploded behind his closed lids. He let himself be driven wherever Alessandro led him and at the end of the endless night neither counted the couplings, the orgasms, the places where they loved each other. All that counted was the closeness.

"Did you ever reconsider our relationship?", Alessandro asked. He looked up into Luca's face, damp strands of blond hair hanging onto his forehead as he sat, straddling Alessandro, clutching his shrivelling penis with all his inner muscles.

"Why should I?"

"To ask yourself if you're happy with me." Alessandro tenderly stroked Luca's drooling cock.

"I don't have to ask. I know I am."

"Happy?"

Luca nodded and sucked at Alessandro's underlip. "Will you jerk off every night, thinking of me?"

Alessandro laughed. "I promise." Then he was serious again. "Listen, carino. Poggibonsi isn't exactly around the corner. I'll give you the Ferrari as gift if you promise to get your driver's licence. And you can live here if your home is too dangerous for you."

"The Ferrari?" Luca asked with big eyes.

"And the bike if that's easier for you. The license has to be written in your name. The car won't become any better by standing around all day long, don't you think. And you can visit me as often as you can."

Luca rocked his upperbody thoughtfully, making Alessandro's cock hard again. Luca must be sore as he himself was, but what was a little pain compared with three years and eight months of parting? Three years and eight months without sex. He pushed Luca upon his back, following his body movement without letting his penis slip out. Luca's legs rested upon his shoulders and as Alessandro didn't hear the familiar "deeper", he closed his eyes, satisfied, and surrendered himself to the steady, increasing rhythm he interrupted only by sheer willpower because he knew how much Luca loved it when he alternated long, slow thrusts with gyrated little pushes. He sat upright and bent deep enough down to reach Luca's cock, although his back hurt. He licked the clear fluid flowing down the shaft and nibbled at the rim of the glands. Luca moaned with closed eyes.

Alessandro would never forget his face so close to orgasm. Luca's penis jerked in his mouth and he let it free. One final long thrust and Luca's body tensed. From his chest a heat wave covered his neck and face and his penis spurted; enough to send Alessandro into orbit.

Then they lay panting; happy and sad together. Morning was close. And with the morning reality would enter their lives.

Dawn was seeping through the thick curtains as Alessandro rose from the bed, pulling them aside. The sky was of a washed out blue. He leaned back against Luca who had followed him, embracing his waist. "I think I can hardly bear to let go", he whispered, and Alessandro grinned. He couldn't either. "A pleasant souvenir from you", he whispered back and shivered.

Luca was glad Sandro had already said good bye to Tris and Rosso, to Giano and Tino, so they had the remaining time for themselves. And Sandro had even gone to Luca's parents to apologize and to thank them for their understanding. Clarissa had surprisingly shed some tears and Niccolò had patted his shoulder. Apparently they could forgive him for being a man who had killed another no matter if it was deliberate or not. Perhaps they would forgive him too for making their son unhappy.

They both extended the shower together and cared for each other as best as they could.

At a quarter to ten a car honked in the yard. Arrigo and Stefano Fergola had come to take Alessandro to Poggibonsi. Luca froze at first and then automatically grabbed for Alessandro's bag.

"No", Alessandro said gently. "Stay here. I can't take it. We'll see each other again. I'll write as soon as I can." He kissed Luca and held him tight until the moment was gone and Luca felt cold and empty. The door had closed.

______________________

 

3

______________________

Marcello and Dante were sentenced to two months imprisonment and two years probation with the condition to meet each month with the probation officer. They were sentenced to social hours at an almshouse, and, as Raniero once had, to work at a AIDS-station. In December the rapists of Tristano and Alfredo were sentenced to two and a half years. The judge didn't use the Children and Young Persons Act and so they had to serve the sentence in Florence.

 

*

"Hello gioia,

How's it going? I've got used to it. Imagine, one and a half months of my sentence is already over. It's crap that you can't come for my birthday. But I understand. I'll tell nobody and have a celebration on my own (Yeah. I think after those damn three years my hand will be suffering from tendonitis).

The room is OK. It's rather as I always assumed a youth's room to be, you know, with a narrow bed and a pine wood wardrobe and even ugly wallpaper. I've pinned the drawing of you on it. It has made the rounds that I'm gay quicker than a firestorm. It has earned me the odd stare and nasty comments. But it has also given me acceptance.

Tell me about Firenze. I miss the exhaust fumes. I miss the tourists. I miss the snow.

I miss you.

Alessandro"

Luca gathered up Alessandro's letters. He'd sorted them by the date and bound them with a ribbon. A package for each month. He stored them at Palazzo Gondi although there was nobody disturbing him at home. The brothers were still in jail. He did it nonetheless, like he gathered all of his treasures there: his leather suit, the Gondi-cross, the remains of the Lapis Lazuli, the CD-player with the disc, his drawings of Alessandro.

One day he had opened a book and stared at a dried white lily. With a jolt he remembered that this was his gift to Alessandro at the very start of their relationship. He almost cried. Who would have thought that Alessandro would dry the flower. Cautiously he took it from the book and glued it upon white cardboard. Days after he visited a copy shop and got it protected with a laminate. Perhaps this would be the start of a collection thinking about next Spring when he could walk up to Fiesole, gathering flowers and herbs. He needed something to do. Leoni would give birth to her child then. And Alessandro would still be in jail.

Luca was very aware that Alessandro didn't tell him everything in his letters. They were probably censored anyway. On Alessandro's birthday, the 5th of December, they had made arrangements to think of each other at ten o'clock. Which was ridiculous because Luca thought of his boyfriend every minute.

Luca was bent over his palm-sized Lapis Lazuli-lizard that he had wanted to give Alessandro for his birthday, but he hadn't made it. With the help of Coppo it had a nice twisted shape and Luca was busy polishing it with sandpaper and a marble-stick. He had learnt that the polishing needed twice as long as the carving and he wanted to create a perfect lizard. Even the green eyes were still missing. The cutters had got used to Luca Montori sharing their workshop occasionally because Professore Coppo had allowed him to do so.

The small yellow bird shot from the cuckoo clock and called ten times. Startled Luca looked up and stopped the machine with which he had given his lizard the final cutting. Instantly he conjured Alessandro's face before his inner eye and in his thoughts he dug his fingers into his locks falling over his ears down almost to his shoulders. What if he had to cut them? He surely wouldn't tell him. Anyway... he sensed a warm feeling and knew Sandro was thinking of him too.

*

"Carino,

I'm so happy you're able to come. You need to take the train and then the bus. Otherwise it's always the same. The workshop has started and I decided to learn how to sew a button. Funny, isn't it. Perhaps I'll become tailor and will design my own collection. Just kidding. Well, it's actually interesting and useful. Mario said in a jail in Germany the prisoners have created a collection of clothes and sell them well in the shops. Mario is the leader of my group. He takes care of everything. I guess he's gay. I caught some stares from him, but otherwise he's pretty all right. Oh, and Franco has sent me my stuff from Pisa and is willing to ask if I can continue my studies from here. Just my laptop I had to give away.

I wait impatiently for you,

Alessandro"

*

Luca opened his travel guide. Outside his train the landscape passed by without Luca noticing it. Poggibonsi had always meant a town that was completely destroyed by the German Wehrmacht in the second World war to him. As he read on, this was obviously a shameless exaggeration:

"Whoever arrives in Vald'Elsa, rarely stops at Poggibonsi to admire the artistic treasures that are still here. Other guides speak little of this centre known more for its industry than for its history. In reality, "there are two Poggibonsi..."; there is a modern, industrial and commercial Poggibonsi and there is an antique, historic and artistic Poggibonsi. The first is a slightly boring and industrialized town; the second is more charming, tranquil and conducive to recollection and meditation. The two Poggibonsi for all their differences do not intrude one another; being relatively well separated from one another permits them to live "together" peacefully. In fact, the more antique practically needs to be conquered, being situated on higher ground, while the more modern is reachable simply by stepping off the train..."

So... he would probably only get to know the modern town, but he wasn't sure. It was too bad Sandro wasn't allowed to pick him up. Luca's heart pounded. He regretted that he still hadn't finished the lizard but his bag was full with gifts anyway. It was a one hour journey by train from Firenze to Poggibonsi and he yearned for the time when he could drive the red Ferrari. But he wasn't old enough to get his driver's licence. He had started to take lessons, just for the bike, although using it in winter was too dangerous.

It was a gloomy day where the clouds didn't seem to lift but instead hovered a metre over the pavement and landscape. The lovely valley of the river Elsa looked miserable and wet when Luca's train arrived at the railway station. He quickly orientated himself and stepped onto the right bus leading to the youth's detention centre. But then Luca's face lit up, he wasn't driving directly into the dirty, grey and boring industrial town that had been built up after the war, but into the outskirts where the splendid castle Poggio Imperiale greeted him from afar. He passed an ancient looking monastery with monks working outside, and saw a church even further away.

Luca left the bus in front of a yellow washed building which looked more like a Tudor-castle than a prison. Probably Sandro was right when he thought it to be more of a boarding school. He wasn't the only one who had left the bus, but a group of about eleven people gathered now at the entrance, each one laden with bags and flowers. Together they passed through a yard with a guard sitting in a cabin, then they had to show their identity cards and were put through the scanner. Their bags were examined as well and Luca was relieved when he was given his OK to enter the visitor's rooms.

He saw him instantly and he couldn't speak with pure excitement. The room had reduced to Alessandro, his dark locks and his blue eyes, light up like a sea of stars; his lips, red and luscious and to his body that meant the world to him, but there was the table between them Alessandro had to walk around it before he could touch and embrace him.

"You look like Babbo Natale himself", Alessandro teased him when he had broken free from his body. "Come, let's go out into the garden. You can leave the bag here and shower me with presents afterwards."

"Garden? Are we allowed there?"

Alessandro pulled him along behind, out into a piece of a garden that was protected by a wall with barbed wire. This was the only thing that reminded Luca of a jail, except for two guards who walked up and down, and those distinct smells of floor polish, disinfectant and loneliness. "We have a greenhouse" Alessandro told him. "It's quite great. Next Spring I'll be with the gardener to seat the plants and sort them out when they are older." He pulled Luca further and chattered, "And we've already made a trip to the Paleontology museum, imagine", Alessandro said. "It's like being in boarding school." Then he swallowed and looked into Luca's eyes. "I'm babbling. But I can't stand the sight of you without being allowed to lay down with you here and now."

Luca burst into his pearly laughter and some tears were mingled within. With ease Alessandro pulled Luca to his chest and started to kiss him so that he didn't know head nor tail when they parted. They earned a whistling for they weren't the only couple or people in the garden. "Do you see them?" Alessandro pointed at a group of three, standing aside without visitors. "Sentenced because of theft, burglary and bodily injury. I guess I can't get rid off the Riefoli-type of guys."

"Have they harmed you?"

Alessandro laughed. "No. They wouldn't dare. Luckily we all have a single room. They don't want too much fraternization here in case you learn something from the heavy guys."

Luca watched him warily. Sandro was lying. He knew him well enough to sense it. Or at least Sandro wasn't telling him everything for fear of scaring his boyfriend. Well, Luca was old enough to take the truth. But then, he didn't want to spoil their meeting. "Was it wise to out yourself?" he asked. "And do they know what you've done?"

Alessandro tugged at Luca's scarf. "You can't hide anything. here If they hadn't known at first - they know now. And of course they know why I was sentenced here. Actually I seem to have gained some acknowledgment", he added. "The worse you are the more they admire you."

Luca was shocked. "Then this is the wrong place for them."

"They need time", Alessandro objected. "We meet in a group for integration. We have to talk about the things we did and what we felt when we did them. Listen, can you send me my warm clothes? And gloves and a cap? It's getting cold this winter."

Luca swallowed. His mother had packed him three pairs of woolen socks for Alessandro. "Of course." He felt Sandro shivering in his thin anorak when he leaned against him. He put Sandro's face between his palms and rubbed his cheeks. Then he unwrapped his scarf and wrapped it around Alessandro's neck. "Let's go in."

Alessandro pulled two hot teas from the automat in the visitor's room. They both sat in a corner near the heating. "Who's this Mario actually?" Luca asked.

"He's there." Alessandro pointed across the room. Luca saw a youngish man sitting in the other corner with his legs crossed, watching the prisoners and their visitors. His hair was straight and black like raven wings, his face pale. He gave the impression of a student having sat too long in a library though his amber eyes were vigilant.

"He looks good", Luca said, sipping at his hot tea. "Like a night flower. You fancy him? You said you thought he was gay."

"Perhaps he is." Seeing Luca's jealous facial expression he laughed and stroked his blond hair back behind his ear. "It's great you're here. We aren't allowed to show you our rooms unfortunately, so you'll have to kiss me here and now." He brought his lips close and engaged Luca in a wild kiss that stirred the parts well hidden in his jeans. Luca caught a glance from Mario, then he slid restless upon his chair. Though the governors of the place had put in all efforts to make this a home for criminal youths Luca didn't feel comfortable here. Perhaps it was the claustrophobic feeling of being locked up. Alessandro was still looking into his face. "How are Tris and Vito?"

"Fine. Tris confessed to being in love."

"Oh. And for once not with you?" Alessandro teased him and pressed his leg against Luca's. "No, for once he isn't. Vito's great, you know. So... grown up."

Alessandro rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Oh come on, you aren't keen on sugar daddies, are you."

Luca nudged him. "Vito's hardly twenty six and Tris eighteen. What do you expect?"

"That Vito can teach Tris even more than the callboys could", he whispered.

"You only have sex on your mind", Luca whispered back, pressing his knee against Alessandro's. "How often do you jerk off?"

"Hmmm", Alessandro counted in his mind. "First time after I wake up, second time when I come from the shower having seen all the naked boys, the third time after I've seen your face upon the drawing and the fourth time when I creep into bed again. Not to mention all those wet dreams."

Luca snorted with laughter. "That's not funny", he said then. "What if you're raped too?"

"You shouldn't even think about that."

* * * * *

Christmas had come and gone as had the new year. Luca had been invited to Villa Kazar to celebrate New Year's Eve. It had hurt like hell to watch Tris and Vito happy together, despite that he had been so happy for Tris. It had hurt to see Giano and Celestino and all the couples wishing each other a happy new year. He counted how many lonely starts of a new year he would have to endure. But Rosso, sensing his sorrow, had filled him up with champagne, saying that Alessandro wasn't dead. He just was not there.

He dragged him out to the steaming river that was covered with ice floes, floating upon the dark, glistening water. Since his childhood he hadn't seen this spectacle and like everyone else he watched it with astonished eyes. Behind San Miniato the fireworks started shooting up into the cold-crispy air. "Happy New Year, Sandro", he whispered, wrapping his arms around himself. He was cold. Then he felt himself being turned around and kissed by Rosso on each cheek, then he lent over to all of his friends and acquaintances.

Sergio was there, still the centre of attention. Despite the tragic events he didn't seem to have lost his cheerfulness and carefree attitude. Though one thing was significant: his relationship with Alfredo had become stronger.

*

"Carino,

I'm allowed to continue with my studies. It will be a sort of correspondence course to become a certified guide. It contains a heavy test in the history of Arts and languages. Will you do me a favour and go to Arrigo? He will give you money for buying me things. I need a refresher course on CD in English and French for my final examination.

The winter's hard this year. Are there still ice floes upon the Arno? Too bad I can't be with you and watch them. They say it snowed.

Well, I don't know what to write actually. Life is hard. I'm supposed to get up at seven each morning and then the day is filled with work and therapy groups and sport. They probably want to make better men of us. Tell me about Tristano and Vittorio. I've had a letter from Giano and from Anastasia. Leoni refuses to write me, well, understandable I guess. When will you come to visit me?

Take care, XXXXXXXXX

Alessandro"

Was this the cheerful Alessandro he had learnt to love? He sounded depressed and Luca hoped for the Spring to improve his mood. The package of Alessandro's letters had increased and filled two shoeboxes. The lizard was almost finished and was well protected in Coppo's office. Luca planned to give it to him at his next visit.

Sighing he put Alessandro's letter between the pages of a book that he stowed away into his rucksack, then he left his room and entered the kitchen. Since his brothers had been released from jail he was only seldom at home. Niccolò was understanding, though he saw that his mother felt unhappy about the situation.

The window panes were steamed up from heat and the scent of wafers tickled his nose when he sat at the table, next to his father. Dante was there already. His face looked haggard and he had lost the most of his beefy stature over the past months. Luca knew that he was working on the ward of an AIDS-hospital. By and by Dante had ceased his comments about Luca's sexuality. Luca thought he knew why although he couldn't be sure what was going on in the mind of his big brother.

"What does Alessandro write, gioia?", Clarissa asked, putting a wafer upon Luca's plate.

"Nothing important. He wants an English and French language course that I will need to buy."

"What from?" Dante throw in. "Gondi's certainly rich enough to buy it himself."

"In jail?" Luca said sharply. "Yeah, sure, he can go into the next shop and buy the things he needs."

"I thought this so-called jail was a better youth's hostel compared to my stay."

Luca glared at him over the table and found him worth no answer. Niccolò looked alternating from one to the other. "It seems as if you think of yourself as being a martyr, Dante", he said then. "You've got yourself into this trouble. I thought a Montori was man enough to take that."

Luca inwardly rolled his eyes. Again those odd conception of what it meant to be a man.

"I did nothing", Dante objected with firm voice. If possible he had become even gloomier. "Those few pills we sold at the gym were ludicrous."

"Pills? Amphetamine and doping pills", Luca said. "Look at you. You looked like a pumped up monster." He leaned forward. "I've heard they make you impotent. That's the reason you don't have a girlfriend?"

Dante flung his body over the table, ready to slap Luca, but Niccolò held his arm. "Basta."

"And you kidnapped me and brought me to that ... obnoxious woman", Luca continued, happy to spit it all out. It was a relief for his confused soul.

Dante howled with false laughter. "That was the first time you've seen a cunt close up. Did you like the taste of it?"

Clarissa stepped quickly to the table and boxed Dante's ears. Her palm burned like the cheek of her son. "Another word and you can pack your stuff, Dante, I swear. It's bad enough you did this to your brother. Watch your language, son."

Dante, surprised at Clarissa's serious tone, shut his mouth. Luca glared at him. "You knew about what happened to Tristano and you covered up for Raniero and the other two culprits. You are guilty as well. They just couldn't prove it."

Niccolò patted his arm. "Enough, Luca. What happened, happened."

"And your boyfriend's a murderer!" Dante shouted.

"I said basta!" Clarissa said sharply. "How often shall we continue to chew on this issue. Luca said Sandro defended himself. We believe him. That the judge didn't think so was unfortunate but it only affected the penalty. I don't have to talk about morality, Dante, do I?"

"Morality", Dante spat out the word. "That's just a word. Gondi deserves more than what he got."

Luca looked down at his wafer and started to eat. It was useless to start a fight; Dante would never understand.

"You still don't understand why I did it, right?" Dante continued now more calmly. "Because I wanted to part you from him. He's bad. I would have done everything for you."

Niccolò rose. "Come, Luca. Time to go to work."

Luca took his wafer and his bag and followed his father. It was good to feel his presence but he felt the urge to move into Alessandro's palazzo, to be alone. He couldn't live with his brothers under the same roof.

The next day he visited Arrigo to pick up the cheque. It was more money than Luca had expected, so he had a shopping spree, buying not only the language course, CD's that Alessandro had wanted but also books he thought useful, warm pullovers, trousers and underwear.

On his next visit to Poggibonsi he watched Alessandro unwrapping the box and opening the lid. Between a bed of cotton wool the blue lizard sat and stared with green serpentine eyes. Alessandro's eyes grew large. "That's the lapis lazuli?" he asked and set the lizard carefully upon his palm. "It's beautiful." He looked at it from all sides. "How did you do it?" The figure weighed heavy in his hand and tugged at his heart.

"With Coppo's help. The rest of the stone I'll work into something different. You like it?"

"It's brilliant. Thank you, gioia." He leaned in and gave Luca a deep kiss. Again Luca felt the eyes of Mario Giacomelli on him, sitting in his corner of the visitor's room. This time he had spectacles on his nose which fortified the impression of him being a student.

"I'll protect it well. It's really precious. And it means a lot to me." Alessandro closed his fingers over the figure. "As always, I have nothing for you."

"Except your presence. How are you getting along?"

Alessandro seemed to have lost weight. Instead he appeared to be firmer and stronger. His blue eyes were a bit shaded which stressed the crook in his nose.

"Oh, I'm fine. They've accepted me as their captain of the handball-team. And I know how to sew a bag. Now I will learn how to design a suit."

Luca grinned involuntarily. "Design a suit? Emilio Pucci won't like the idea of you being his rival."

Alessandro grinned as well. "What else shall I do here? It's boring enough. When Spring starts I can be busy in the garden, but otherwise..."

And this all because of me, Luca thought. His bad conscience was sometimes unbearable. The wounds of late October hadn't healed. He felt Alessandro being cut off from all the things moving Luca and the world outside. He didn't belong to them anymore. Luca felt helpless.

Silence spread between them while Alessandro was stroking the lizard and Luca was watching him.

"Giano had his first visit to the pathology lab. He almost threw up."

"Indeed so? I can't bear to see blood either."

"It's not only the blood, you know", Luca said with low voice. "He said instead of this he'd rather fight through microbiology, neurology and history of medicine. That though is rather boring but not as nasty."

Alessandro nodded. "And I'd rather fight through the archives at the library. Does he still want to become a surgeon?"

"Apparently not. Well, he doesn't have to decide yet."

Silence grew again. "I have to go now", Luca said finally. Alessandro didn't know what to say. He wanted to tell Luca so much, but there were no words forming upon his tongue. There was no words for what he felt being locked up in this place. It was so much harder than he had imagined. And the hate for the people responsible grew with each day.

He rose when Luca stood up. Together they went out. "Thank you for everything", Alessandro said. Still holding the lizard in his fist he embraced Luca for a long time.

* * * * *

The Scoppio del Carro was the most exciting event on Easter Sunday. Like at the Gioco in June festively dressed groups paraded through the streets, horse-riders at the front with trumpets and drums, flag-wavers and groups in colourful, traditional-costumes following them. In the middle of the train was a carriage dragged by four white, flower-decorated oxen. Upon the carriage was set up a painted, wooden tower of green and brown with ribbons and a frame that hid the pyrotechnics.

Luca and Rosso had waited since the early morning at the place in front of the cathedral to watch the spectacle. Both had done so since they were kids in school and today was no exception, except that today Franco was with them. He had come over from Pisa for the holidays and was staying together with Luca at Palazzo Gondi. Rosso had his camera ready and Seppe upon his shoulders. Luca clutched the shoulders of Dani standing in front of him. All of this was Greek to Franco. Well, he could understand that the light of the new day, celebrating Jesus' resurrection had to be carried out of the churches to enlighten the world. But what had the tower to do with it? "When does it start?", he asked.

"Noon", Luca said. He scanned the people gathering. Somewhere Vito had to be to check with the crowd. And in consequence Tris of course. Both were hardly to be separated except for Vito's odd working times. Surely Tris had told none of this at home. He still hadn't come out and this demanded white lies from Luca and Rosso as well.

"So, could anyone please tell me what's this all about?" Franco - meanwhile with a long shock of hair that stressed his fine face - eyed the flag-wavers with their colourful costumes demonstrating their skills upon the wide piazza in front of the Baptistery. "It's made from the stones at Santi Apostoli", Dani cooed smart-alecky.

"Right, briciola", Rosso answered. "It's a long ceremony that begins at the crack of dawn in the church of Santi Apostoli. The tradition dates back to the first Crusade in 1099. There was a Florentine nobleman by the name of Pazzino de Pazzi who was the first to climb the walls of Jerusalem carrying the flag of the crusaders. For his courage the commander and chief of the crusade, rewarded Pazzino with stone splinters from the Holy Sepulchre. When he returned to Florence he donated these splinters to the city. And since Santi Apostoli is the oldest church in town, they are still kept there."

Luca shivered briefly. He remembered the attack last Spring near the church, when he and Alessandro had been beaten up by a group of attackers. Dante and Marcello still hadn't admitted that they had been involved.

"The priest takes the ancient flints and rubs them together to produce sparks to light the Easter candle, which in turn is used to light coals in a fire holder" Rosso continued. "And then these coals are handed over by the civic authorities to the archbishop, who celebrates Mass at the high altar of the cathedral."

Franco looked astonished. "And then he lights the cart?"

"No! First they sing!" Dani throw in, chewing at an apple, Rosso had provided from his rucksack.

"Right", Luca remembered. "They sing the Gloria and then the archbishop lights the fuse. But you'll see."

Two men, dressed as mercenaries with wide trousers and blue feather plumes upon their helmets fixed a wire rope at the pyre and went with it into the cathedral where Emilio Gondi-Lucertola, the mayor, waited side by side with the archbishop of Florence who donated incense and sprinkled the cart with holy water.

People pushed from behind for a better view. Tourists and locals had mingled and everyone was armed with video and still cameras to watch the actually pagan ceremony with which the people of the middle ages had bound the fate of their town.

It had become quiet over the place. Singing sounded from inside of the cathedral. Then, after a long time the commander of the troops shouted a command and the drums started. Luca saw a flickering light buzzing through the cathedral. The Colombina - a rocket hidden in a white paper-dove - had been lit at the altar and was now rushing through the dark nave towards the exit. Like a flashing light it shot out of the open doors and hit the pyre that exploded with a crack of fireworks, releasing clouds of smoke and setting off Catherine wheels and crackers.

A loud cheering swept over the place, mingled with the crackers on the cart and the tinny sound of the trumpets. The archbishop lifted his hand in blessing and Emilio Gondi applauded.

"Florence will have a prosperous year", Rosso shouted over the noise and winked, "and the harvest will be great." He referred to the fact, that to guarantee that the show goes off successfully, a fireman hides inside the cart and, if the dove plays up, lights the fuse of the first cracker.

"Amen", Luca mumbled.

"Wow", said Franco. The cart was twisting and turning with the light and noise supplied by fireworks.

Seppe upon Rosso's shoulders started to bawl. The air was sticky with thick smoke and stank as if they had burnt old socks. Rosso put his brother on to his feet and crouched down. "No need to cry, briciola." He wiped Seppe's tears. "Look at the oxen, aren't they pretty?" He pointed to the animals, standing safe enough aside.

Seppe sniffed and beamed then. "Their ears are closed with wax so they aren't startled like little boys like you", Rosso said, stroking Seppe's red corkscrew locks.

The crowd parted to give way for the procession. "And what are we doing now?" Rosso asked. The sun on this last day of March was warm and burnt down upon Luca's head. He looked up into the blue washed sky.

Perhaps Alessandro would be out in his garden to care for the plants in the green house.

"Let us have ice-cream", Rosso said then. "The first this year." Dani jumped with excitement and took his brother's hand. Luca thought it touching how Rosso handled his little brothers. Some time he would become a great father.

"Look, there's Vito", Luca said suddenly. Vito looked really posh in his blue uniform. To celebrate the day he had flowers in a buttonhole and a bunch of pink ostrich feathers fixed on his uniform's hat. Luca chuckled. The appropriate colour for him. What if his colleagues knew he was gay? He saw Tris waving next to him. "Let's see if Tris's coming with us", Luca said, fighting his way through the crowd.

The air was still filled with smoke that gathered slowly around the cathedral's cupola and vanished as grey haze in the azure-blue sky.

One hour and two coppa of ice cream later Luca's mobile started to ring. First he couldn't recognize the quiet voice. It was Anastasia calling from hospital to say that Leoni had given birth to a son last night. She sounded somewhat unaffected and controlled. No wonder, Luca thought immediately. Who knew how much Leoni had picked on the old woman. At the same time he felt bad that he had never visited her after all that had happened with Alessandro.

There must have been a large gap of silence from his side because Anastasia asked if he had understood what she had said. Instantly reality hit him with a hammer. Leoni had given birth to a son! He almost knocked his half-empty ice cup over Seppe, to add to the strawberry-red blotches already upon his shirt. "A son, you say?" he almost yelled into the tiny loudspeaker. "Have you told Sandro yet?"

Rosso watched him curiously. He was informed about the faked marriage and the reason behind it. Now surprise was painted upon his face and a tiny bit of satisfaction. At least all this had paid out. Luca cut the connection and slid nervously upon his stool. "Sandro doesn't know about it yet. She doesn't have the number of the institute. Damn. I need to visit her, how could I have forgotten?" He pushed his coppa over to Seppe and Dani. "Eat, I have to make a call."

While Luca tried to get Alessandro on the phone Rosso mumbled "So he's a rich man now, yes? What did you say? Twenty million?"

Luca nodded absentmindedly, then his face was washed over with disappointment. Sandro couldn't come to the phone right now. He was with his person in charge, Mario. A twinge of jealousy stung Luca's heart. Well, he had to try again this evening.

"What would you buy with twenty million?" Rosso asked lost in his thoughts.

"A red fire engine", Seppe said seriously, spooning the remains of Luca's ice cream. Rosso and Luca laughed. "Red as your hair, eh? Well, you can buy a lot more than a fire brigade", Rosso said. "You could buy the fire departments of the whole world. Hm, probably I would give most of it away. Why would I need such a mountain of money? Have you both ever talked about it?"

"Not at all. At least it's the money of the Gondi's and Alessandro will hardly give it away for nothing."

Rosso's green eyes rested upon him. "And you?"

"Me? I think I'd open a foundation for AIDS. Research, help, care and prevention. I'd do it in the name of Sandro's brother." The same moment he realised what he had blabbed out. But what the hell... "Sandro's brother died of AIDS."

Rosso's eyes widened. "I hadn't the slightest idea that he had a brother."

"Sandro was little when he died."

"Gay?"

Luca shrugged his shoulders. At the same moment someone tapped upon his shoulder. Luca looked up into Tristano's beaming face. "I knew you'd be sitting here in the sun, eating your third coppa of ice cream", he said grinning.

"The second", Dani hurried to tell him.

"I see that", Tristano answered. "Let me guess, you had vanilla with strawberries, right?"

Dani pouted. "How do you know?"

"From the blotches upon your shirts, easy enough."

"Where's Vito?" Rosso asked.

"Working. He must supervise the clearing of the carro and then his job's done. Where's Franco? I saw he was with you."

"Sightseeing. We shall meet again in the afternoon." And nobody's here to play the guide for him, Luca added in his thoughts. Sandro would have loved it.

"Someone's got a new baby", Dani cooed, satisfied to carry over the hot news. Tristano looked blank.

"Leoni, Sandro's wife", Luca said. "A son, imagine!"

"Fine, then he can finally file for his divorce. Oops", Tristano rolled his eyes. "Sorry, I didn't want to make light of it. But this Leoni girl had accepted the arrangement, right? So, no reason for us to feel pity for her. How much will she get?"

Luca shrugged. "Don't know. Enough, I guess."

Luca and his friends spent the whole with more sightseeing for Franco, roundabouts for the kids and pizza for the adults Luca thought about Sandro and the baby. How would he feel? He wondered if Arrigo had been able to call him to tell him the news? Absentmindedly he watched Rosso's face which had changed colour when he saw Carolina, Tristano's ex-girlfriend. They all got the message and left them alone.

________________________

 

4

________________________

 

"Perhaps I can come to visit 'my son'", Alessandro spoke into the receiver. Luca could literally hear the quotation marks with which he stressed 'my son'. He sprawled upon Alessandro's bed which he considered meanwhile as his own also. Suddenly he sat upright. "Geez, you're in the local news", he said, staring at the telly. He listened for a while as a photo of Alessandro smiled cheekily from the screen. "You look good on TV", Luca said. Then Sandro's information sunk in. "What did you say? You want to come to visit your son? When?"

"Patience, amore, for now I don't know if I'll be allowed. But if I beg Mario..." he left the sentence open for Luca to imagine what Sandro would have to do for it. "Will you have to blow him?" he then asked more lightheartedly than he felt.

"Probably. Well, that's the least that people would expect from a fresh-baked father, don't you think? Er, visit the child I mean... Perhaps we can see seach other. I'll write you as soon as I hear more. Um, I miss you." After a break he said. "Gotta go now. Take care of yourself." Alessandro had hung up.

This Mario was a pretty thorn in Luca's side. Although he couldn't grasp it, there was something unlucky about the guy with the straight black hair and the attentive, sparkling amber eyes. Each time he looked into them Luca felt as if he could see into the very core of his being. And he was good looking enough to rouse Sandro's attention. But he wouldn't be so daft to start something with his warder, would he?

*

Mario eyed the CD's Alessandro had spread upon the table in the common room. Due to Mario's presence it was quieter here than usual, other times the guys quarreled about the TV -programmes, or stridently lamented about a lost Domino -game. Every kind of card game- and gambling was forbidden. Mario lit a cigarette and slid closer. "Advanced Course", he read. "Your English and French is good enough?" he asked, fixing Alessandro with his amber-coloured, bright eyes, which he had hidden today with his glasses that suited him extraordinarily well.

"Sure, I spent a year at Oxford and I was two years in Toulouse. I've visited the bones of good old Thomas of Aquino." Alessandro winked. He tested how far Mario's knowledge reached in starting a serious conversation.

"The Jacobin church, I know", Mario said composed.

"You've been there?"

"For holidays. Did you know that the lead from the colourful glass windows was worked into ammunition during the French Revolution? Nothing stopped them. They lodged horses and soldiers in that church and all the frescoes and paintings were destroyed."

"Golly, sounds like Napoleon when he was in Italy. Didn't he do the same with our churches?"

Mario nodded and offered Alessandro a cigarette. "You're really interested in Art history, aren't you."

Alessandro lit his cigarette and coughed a bit. "Sure I am", he said with scratchy voice. "I've even been to Saint Sernins, the pilgrim's church with the hundreds of holy relics."

Mario screw up one eye. "The church's on the Jacob's Way to Compostela", he said quietly. "I walked it." For a moment his face was blank, then he pulled himself together. "I'd rather you told me about Masolino's Diary. You've heard about the discovery?"

"How couldn't I", Alessandro said reservedly.

"I think it's thrilling. Have you any more information about the authenticity of the script? You - living in Firenze - are lucky compared to us in this backwater of Poggibonsi."

Alessandro didn't know what to say. If he thought it a backwater then why did he live here? "Specialists say the script is genuine", he said aloud. "The expedition starting to Rome will be more interesting. Hey, did you know that the last Medici had caries because they ate too much chocolate that the sailors had brought from America?" he asked then in a lighthearted tone.

Mario showed his teeth as he grinned. "You like chocolate?" The tip of his rosy tongue appeared, licking over his lips. Alessandro knew that this gesture was made for him only. He sensed a tiny twinge in his guts. To make sure he hadn't misunderstood he leant closer "You've been on the pilgrim's way to Compostela?" he asked, blowing blue smoke directly into Mario's face.

Mario didn't bat an eye lid. "I was. The way is the destination."

"Why did you have to do it?"

"I did it for pleasure" Mario's leg leaned against Alessandro's. "Self-awareness."

Alessandro shrugged. "That doesn't mean anything to me."

"Not even ... pleasure?" Mario asked and again didn't blink.

"Ah, pleasure..." Alessandro left the sentence open.

Mario rose. "Come with me. I guess I have something for you."

It wasn't difficult for Alessandro to discover that Mario was going to his home. He had a small house in the prison's grounds.

A little white Maltese jumped up at his leg. Mario patted him briefly. As soon as he had closed his door he reached out and pulled Alessandro hard to his chest. The kiss matched his movements - hard and impatient - and Alessandro moaned into Mario's open mouth and struggled with his tongue.

His abdomen was on fire; he was hard like a rock within seconds - exactly the time Mario needed to drag him from the hall into the kitchen where he stopped and fumbled at Alessandro's belt, opened it, dragging down the zipper and slipping his hand into Alessandro's boxer shorts.

For a moment Alessandro was ashamed because the underwear he was wearing he wouldn't even wear to bring coals up from the cellar -- in his real life. Mario didn't seem to mind. His hand roamed hot and fiery, cupped Alessandro's eggs and stroked his hard cock up and down, while he wrestled at his own zipper. Alessandro's mind was blanked out. He pushed Mario's hand away and did it for him, ripping trousers and pants down over his hips.

Neither had said a single word since they had entered the house. Mario turned his bare butt to him and rubbed himself against Alessandro's warm and hard flesh. Quivering with lust and desire, Mario groped for a bottle of olive oil, poured it into his palm and smeared it around his opening, worked it into his hole and turned to Alessandro. "Fuck me", he said, not blinking he conjured up a condom and rolled it over Alessandro's straining and longing cock. Then he turned, clutched the kitchen's hot plate and bent over. Alessandro was so turned on that he pushed his cock into the waiting hole - without thinking and without mercy. He heard Mario's hissing breath; in a corner of his brain he knew that Mario was in pain, but more painful was the act Alessandro had to endure, he concentrated on his tool that harshly slid in and out. Within a minute Alessandro's body froze and he squirted into the condom, a soundless cry upon his lips. He pulled out, turned Mario and pressed his lips upon the others, transferring a part of the pain he felt and receiving the same.

Panting, Mario put his head on Alessandro's shoulder and suddenly wrapped his arms around him. Their cocks merged - both still hard and not satisfied. Mario's hole burnt like fire. And yet it was exactly what he wanted from Alessandro di Gondi-Lucertola. The guy, the cause of his restless nights. The guy with the haughty eyes.

His fingers found Alessandro's covered erection and rolled the condom carefully up, shedding a part of the white semen upon the ground. Like Onan. Shed the semen to the ground and be punished. He felt Alessandro shivering when Mario grazed his nails lightly up and down the shaft, cupping his hairless balls, lingering at the rim, connecting glands and shaft, mingling the clear drops and white semen. His own cock jerked without being touched.

'Not even the half of a year you can last out,Alessandro scolded himself. 'Not even the half of a year! But what do you do when a little, firm butt is offered and you needed it so badly? Luca, please forgive.'

He was being guided into the bedroom. The Maltese was there again, laying in his basket near the door, yelping. Mario bent down and stroked him. "Sssht, Cinzano, quiet. Afterwards we're going out."

Alessandro felt the urge to laugh hysterically. "Cinzano?" He fell upon the bed and stretched out. Jesus, it was so good to feel a soft bed. His back jubilated with pleasure and his cock pointed straight to the ceiling before it vanished into Mario's mouth, who had straddled him.

Alessandro was aware that he was still fully dressed and that Mario had only lost his jeans. It must make a repulsive image - at least to him. Two randy guys who hadn't been able to undress themselves because they had pounced on each other like a troop of soldiers, raping the female locals of a conquered town. And yet.... he couldn't help it. The tongue was too good, the mouth too hot and if he didn't open his eyes, he could imagine that it was Luca who slid over his cock and rolled on another condom. He could imagine it was Luca's hotness that engulfed Alessandro and his lingering movements, up and down and up again like a horse rider, galloping over gentle hills.

The house was dark and in his basket the Maltese was softly snoring as was Mario at his side when he awoke. Alessandro still wore his boots and pullover. Only his trousers had been pulled down halfway his thighs. He wondered about the time and shook Mario's shoulder. "Hey. What's the time? We'll be in trouble if we aren't back in time for dinner ."

Mario started; his straight, black hair mussed up, he looked shortsightedly and -confused around him. "Madonna!" He jumped out of the bed and gathered his clothes. "Hurry up", he urged Alessandro.

"I don't have to dress", Alessandro said coolly. He pulled up his jeans and tucked himself in in front of Mario. "You weren't too interested in my body."

Mario nodded absentmindedly and tied his shoelaces. "What are you, only a top?" he asked.

Alessandro didn't think he should answer that. It was about time he was leaving this house.

The tiny dog had woken up and begged his master to go out with him. Alessandro bent down and picked up the struggling bundle with the white, silky hairs. In the hall Mario stepped in his way.

"This is our secret. Nobody must ever learn of it, or I'll be chucked out. But three years and eight months are hard to endure without having someone to fuck. I'm sentenced as well in this place, capisce? If they learn I'm gay I can pack my things and leave."

"That's ridiculous, as if they would give every straight teacher the sack when he teaches girls", Alessandro objected, still with cool voice.

"I know. But that's the rule."

"All right, chief. You're the boss." Outside Alessandro dropped the dog and he flitted to the next bush. "Before I forget it, I want to officially apply for a day off to visit my new born son."

Mario dropped his keys. "Your what?"

"Heavens, you surely read in my files that I'm married. I'm certainly not the first married guy you've fucked in your spare time." A sneer spread over his face. "What else can you do here than fuck the brains out of each other. Right?" He turned and moved on, across the lawn, his hands buried in his pockets, his head pulled down between his shoulders due to the cold.

Haughty eyes, Mario thought. And haughty mind. "Your application is granted!" he shouted to Alessandro's back. "But only if I'm the one to accompany you."

It was seven days later when Mario drove his old, blue Fiat up to Fiesole with Alessandro sitting next to him. It had cost Mario a severe act of persuasion to convince the prison administration that it was enough that he accompanied Alessandro Gondi alone, but since Alessandro had never caused any trouble before now, his plea was granted.

Mario gave him a brief side glance. Indeed, Alessandro had never caused trouble. Except, he was fucking with his supervisor. Well, now and then. If it was up to Mario, he would love to bring Sandro to his home for Mario's personal care.

Mario grinned at him. Alessandro looked good, albeit the stay in the jail over the Winter had made him pale and he had lost weight. Nonetheless Mario wasn't deceived that behind the mask of a good-looking, politically correct and self-confident young man a human hid who was highly aggressive and able to kill if he had to. But aren't we all able to do that when it comes to a certain point?

In the long therapy-talks with Sandro, Mario had learnt everything about the occurrences on that October night and Mario was convinced that Alessandro really shouldn't be there. His being locked up - as relaxed it might be handled here - wasn't good for the independent boy from Florence. Sometimes he was so monosyllabic that Mario was frightened for him.

"Turn right, please", Alessandro said, "now pass the monument and straight along."

They had reached Fiesole, the small old-Etruscan town above Florence, where the rich and noble Florentines had built their summer-residences.

And again it is Primavera, Alessandro thought. Maledetta Primavera. In a few weeks Luca and he had their first anniversary of the day they had met at his father's funeral. He remembered his bold conquest of Luca, the young man with the gentle, brown eyes and the blond hair he - Alessandro - had never thought would become so important in his life. But he had to admit that he missed his boyfriend more than anything. And during his short visits to Mario's house he only thought about Luca - and that was the reason he had never allowed Mario to penetrate him. Odd. In better days he would have laughed. Would Luca understand? Perhaps he was doing the same. Alessandro promised himself not to be cross with him if that was the case.

"That's it", Alessandro mumbled. The car came to a halt in front of the yellow-washed villa with a red roof. The meadows around stood in late Spring's bloom. The rhododendron was full with pink blossoms and the white lilac gleamed in the sunshine. He saw that Fran had cut the roses and the box trees.

"You know the rules, Sandro", Mario said. "No close contact, not even with your boyfriend when he comes."

Alessandro gave him an odd look. "You don't seriously think that you can stop me from kissing my boyfriend", he said with a quiet voice.

Mario felt the threat within. Surely enough, Alessandro had Mario in his grasp. Completely. If he was chucked out because of molesting his charge, he would never find a job again. But Sandro wouldn't do that, would he? Mario gave him a penetrating look. "A final tip, Sandro: don't mess with my trust. You and I have more secrets than are good for us. Always remember that."

Alessandro gave a disapproving snort and opened the car's door. Mario knew he couldn't browbeat him. Alessandro Gondi was still fearless.

Mario watched him as he stepped up to a fragile old woman with a sunhat and gloves and embraced her. Apparently she had been working in the garden since a bucket full of weeds stood next to her feet. Then he felt her eyes upon him and stepped closer to shake her hand. "Mario Giacomelli", he introduced himself. "The person in charge for of Alessandro. Nice to meet you. Where's the wife?"

Anastasia, looking him discretely up and down pointed to the house. Alessandro knew she'd be on the bench behind the house, standing in the sun. Mario decided to follow him.

Leoni, sitting on the bench with a pillow in her back, looked somewhat puffed-up in the face albeit her body was thin as ever. She moaned when she saw Alessandro. "I feel as if someone has pushed a melon into me", was the first thing she said, eyeing Mario. "Another lover?"

"No, my personal guard. How's that for a greeting, Leoni? And how do you look? Where's the baby?"

Leoni grinned. "One day later and it wouldn't be here anymore", she said cryptically. "Your uncle's coming and taking it away. As the agreement goes."

Alessandro quickly took her arm and sat beside her upon the bench. "I'd prefer it if you'd keep that to yourself", he hissed. "So, Arrigo was here, yes? What did he want?"

"He offered me a place at his home with Matteo or I'll have to leave him at your uncle's."

"Who's Matteo?"

Leoni's blue-green eyes stared widely and somewhat glazed at him. "Your son."

Anastasia came around the corner with a bundle in her arms. "He's such a pretty kitten, Sandro", she cooed - seeming completely unusual to Alessandro. But then, if he remembered his own childhood, the only warmth and affection he had experienced was the love from Anastasia. When he looked into little Matteo's face he almost regretted that he wasn't his own. Almost. For a tiny second.

"It was Arrigo's wish to call him after his grandpa, your father", Anastasia said.

For a moment Alessandro was tempted to tell her the truth - that his father Matteo was not the grandpa of this little worm here. Perhaps he would do it - later. In a quiet minute when his life had flooded back onto its well-trodden paths. When he was out of that damn prison.

He felt Mario's presence who was standing discreetly to the side, not able to overhear their conversation. Anastasia was walking around with the baby in her arms, showing him the knotty branches of a short apple tree standing in full bloom.

"So, what have you decided?" Alessandro asked. "Will you move into Arrigo's palazzo?"

Leoni shook his head. "I'll take the money and be off. Padre Castruccio has already visited me to be convinced about the gender of the baby and all." She leaned closer, "He didn't want to see a paternity test."

"No?" Alessandro was surprised. "I bet it will come. At least then the money will be in my bank account." He watched Anastasia who rocked the bundle in her arms and looked as if she was in love. "By the way, how will you put Anastasia in the picture about you not caring a flying fart about the baby and will leave it alone?"

Leoni threw back her head. "I don't care a flying fart about Anastasia. Don't you see her? She's besotted by him, so she should care for his welfare. I'm off."

"Leoni", Alessandro clutched her upper arm firmly. Again he felt Mario's eyes on him. "You can't do that. Not right now. Wait a while for God's sake. Don't you think Castruccio will think it odd if you abandon your child shortly after the birth? You only raise suspicion. Stay here for a while - for the summer if you want. You don't have to care for the kid. Anastasia will do it gladly."

"She's old. Perhaps she'll drop him to the ground or something."

"Nonsense. Anastasia is fit as a fiddle."

A low put-put of a motor made them look up. Mario rushed around the corner and saw a cloud of dust. In front of it crystallized a figure upon a motorbike. Alessandro had followed Mario and now ran past him. The driver took off his helmet and Mario saw the sunshine polishing Luca Montori's blond hair. It was useless to pull Alessandro back and to explain that he mustn't touch Luca, at least not before Mario had examined Luca. But what could he slip Alessandro anyway? A file to saw the bars from in front of his windows?

With screwed up eyes he watched the heartfelt embrace and the kisses, and something like jealousy welled up in him. That was really ridiculous. Alessandro was nothing more than a fuck buddy, good enough to fill Mario's lonely hours.

He turned his eyes away and knew that wasn't exactly the truth. For that, the feeling of hurt was too strong. Alessandro was more than a fuck buddy. If he was truthful Mario had most probably fallen in love with the young man.

Mario watched the bike being jacked up, then Luca and Alessandro came closer hand in hand. Mario blinked. What would the blond guy do if Mario would tell him that his boyfriend was fucking his warder?

"Can we vanish for a half an hour?" Alessandro asked.

"What for?" it escaped Mario. At the same time he felt ashamed when he saw Luca's blush. "No way", he said quickly. "You'll stay here."

Alessandro rolled his eyes. "Geez, then play the peeping tom." He pushed Luca gently against the house wall and started to fumble between his legs. Luca struggled and tried to push Alessandro away. Mario heard him half laughing and making a loud hissing noise.

"What would you do, if I ran away now?" Alessandro shouted over his shoulder to Mario.

"You wouldn't get far."

"All right. I give up", Alessandro pouted, taking Luca's hand and vanished with him around the corner. Mario shook his head. This was harder than watching a sack of fleas.

"What's your decision now, Leoni?" Alessandro asked, after Anastasia had invited Mario into the kitchen where he could keep an eye on the guys outside, offering him a cool lemonade.

Leoni shrugged. "I guess I'll stay here for a while. But not too long."

Alessandro nodded. "Good. Why don't you write to me? I never get post from my wife." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"You aren't interested in your wife, Alessandro Gondi", Leoni hissed. "So why should she write to you?"

"To send me a photo of little Matteo for instance. He's cute, admittedly. Hopefully he takes after his father."

Luca eyed him sinisterly. "And who is the father?" he asked.

Alessandro shrugged. "Don't know... Certainly not me. Um, if you ever tell Anastasia I'll break out and kill you, Leoni", he said seriously. "*I'm* the one to tell her, capisce? Remember the agreement. If you tell her you'll see not cent of it."

Leoni nodded distractedly. She longed for a cigarette, but the bloody Anastasia never brought her a packet. The birth was a trauma she still hadn't digested, mostly because she had been alone, although her mother had accompanied her along with Arrigo's nasty wife. The mother was only interested in the publicity-effective entry in the press and so she had dressed up pretty in pink for the celebration of her first grandchild. Otherwise the hysterical woman hadn't really been a help and had to be comforted by Arrigo's wife - a similar frigid soul. Nobody had asked how Leoni had felt and so she didn't want the kid either. Let Alessandro be happy with it as long he got the money and Leoni got the money for all her labour.

She looked up. Alessandro Gondi - her first big love - was unreachable. And he was nasty to her anyway. He was arrogant. He showed too obviously that he despised girls because they couldn't come up with a long, fat cock he could suck at or stuff his own into waiting arseholes. Ugh. She would never understand how someone could do that.

Maybe Alessandro read something in her eyes, at least he reached out and wiped a tear from Leoni's cheek. "Thanks for all this", he whispered. "I know I treated you like shit, but you hit back."

Leoni sat frozen to the spot when he and Luca said good-bye. Although not really having talked with each other, they both looked happy just to feel the presence of the other. Alessandro didn't want to talk about his daily life. And Luca didn't know what to tell him without causing melancholy and anger about the lost months. "Tristano was happy about the presents", he began finally. They stood next to the motor bike Luca used nowadays. "Franco had given him two large pieces of his beloved Panforte."

Alessandro grinned silently. "And the DVD's?" he asked. Luca answered his grin. "He screamed with pleasure. Here's a letter from him." He handed Alessandro an envelope that was snatched away by Mario. "Let me read it first", he said, trying to appear intimidating.

Luca eyed him surprised. Seen at close quarters, Mario's eyes had a translucent quality of a yellow amber stone and the sun made his hair brilliant like raven's wings. Alessandro though glared at Mario as he watched him open the envelope and skim through Tristano's letter. Luca felt him boiling in anger.

"All right, you can keep it", Mario said, handing the letter over to Alessandro.

"And what was that for?" Alessandro snapped.

Mario looked innocent and turned away. Luca took Alessandro's arm and stroked him. "Don't be angry, he's just doing his job."

Alessandro stared for a moment into Luca's eyes, then he decided to say nothing. He took a deep breath and said "so he enjoyed the presents?"

"You bet." Luca and Alessandro had bought Tristano a collection of Jamie Oliver's cooking-DVD's so Tristano could now watch his idol when he prepared all of his delicious things to eat. "Vito invited him out to the most expensive ristorante in town", Luca started.

"Let me guess: Paszkowsky Bar at Piazza della Repubblica, right?"

"Right."

"And then he complainedt that the cappuccino costs five Euros", Alessandro said dryly and somewhat depressed. "I'd loved to invite him. Certainly Vito has count every cent."

"Ah, come on. He wouldn't had done it otherwise."

"Vito must be very in love with Tris", Alessandro said, staring constantly at a point in the distance next to Luca's ear. "Have you counted the months remaining? In exactly eleven days we have our first anniversary."

Luca quickly put his finger across Alessandro's lips. "Never talk about that. Don't even think about it. You know that I'm waiting for you."

Alessandro's head jerked away. "You don't have to. I'll understand."

Luca looked sad and disappointed. "But I want to."

Mario looked at his watch and called "Time to leave, Sandro. Say good-bye to everybody."

"'Say good-bye to everybody'", parroted Alessandro nastily. "I feel as I'm in kindergarten."

Luca tried a smile. Alessandro had changed. His gentle core, that Luca had been able to conjure and explore, had vanished. What would he be like if e was out of that prison? He watched him saying farewell to Leoni and Anastasia with the baby still in her arms. When he kissed Luca, Luca's throat was constricted. He tried to hold him as long as he could, but Mario was rushing him.

"Are you following us?", Mario asked. It was the first words that he had directed at Luca.

Luca shook his head. He wanted to stay and talk to Anastasia for a while. So he stood and watched the cloud of dust the old, blue Fiat left behind.

______________________

 

5

_______________________

Alessandro had his work out at one of the torture-machines in the Fitness room in the basement of the prison and tried to ignore the bitching. Pietro and Ivano - both sixteen and famous for their membership of a gang in Cortona - had found a new victim. Alessandro couldn't say he was happy that it wasn't himself, but over the months he had learnt to hide his feelings. The problem was that the spirit of the detention centre was false. The strongest had all the power to gather possessions and the strongest was not labelled necessarily by muscle power, but by the possession of the tiniest pea-brain possible. Alessandro had experienced that the tiniest brain could conjure the biggest perversions.

Alessandro took a breather at his rowing machine and looked over to Lauro, a seventeen year old, who shoplifted until the docs realized he suffered from kleptomania. He had to serve his punishment nonetheless. Yet again Pietro roaring made fun of Lauro's name. He was thinking it soooo gay. Lauro - pigeon-chested and slender - pulled his head down between his shoulders as he tried to ignore Pietro.

All this - the little rotten things, taking place behind the backs of the prison wardens - disgusted Alessandro. If there was to be a quarrel, then please make it an open quarrel, not these cowardly, little attacks aiming below the belt that were nothing more than to raise the weak self- confidence of the attackers. One could feel so big in making others small.

Alessandro's stomach clenched as he watched Pietro standing up in front of Lauro and dragging him from the running machine. Nervously Alessandro stared at the observation monitors and expected to see a guard entering the room at any moment. But nobody came when Pietro punched Lauro's stomach. Not hard, but hard enough for Lauro to double up. "What are you actually doing here, you little weakling? Klep-to, klep-to!" Pietro laughed his ass off and turned to Ivano who was giving him a thumbs up.

Alessandro bet he didn't even know how to spell kleptomaniac.

"Bet you piss in your bed each night and cry for Mamma."

Alessandro had had enough. He stepped off of his rowing machine and wiped his face with the towel hanging around his neck. "Stop it, Dandoli", he said.

Pietro - overweight and with hanging tits standing out under his sweaty shirt, turned slowly and looked Alessandro up and down. "Did you say something, fag?" He held his palm behind his ear. "I heard a feeble whisper."

Alessandro twisted his mouth. "I said stop it. Do you need a hearing aid?"

"The little fag can speak!" Pietro turned to Ivano who howled with laughter. The room emptied all of a sudden. None of the guys wanted to have trouble. Cowards, Alessandro thought scornfully and clenched his fists, ready for a fight. That moment the door opened and Mario entered the room. "Trouble?" he asked sharply.

Pietro showed his best baby-face, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "Not at all, boss. We've had a nice talk. Gondi wanted to show me the ... rowing machine."

Mario's eyes darted through the room. He saw Lauro, still standing stock-still and tense, rubbing his stomach. Ivano, the little ferret with eyes too close together, was sitting nonchalantly upon a chest. He noticed Sandro's clenched fists.

"No trouble here, kids. We are all here to learn something", he repeated the standard dogma of the director of the institution. But what was it exactly that they should learn, Alessandro couldn't tell. All he was learning here was that the strongest was right. Always. What were you supposed to learn here other than to perfect your criminal career? Therapy? Useless for the most. Except for Lauro maybe. Alessandro went to him and took his shoulder. "Come, let's have a shower."

Pietro and Ivano whistled. "Woohoo, a shower together!" Ivano jumped down from the chest and pranced with a limp wrist through the room. By the strap of his gym shirt Mario pulled him closer to his chest. "I said, no trouble, Dandoli", he hissed. "Your tobacco ration is cancelled for tomorrow."

Ivano grumbled, but gave in without a fight. Pietro clapped his hands and laughed at Ivano. Mario, briefly closing his eyes, said with calm voice: "Your ration as well, Zardi." Pietro pulled a face. Then a sly grin appeared upon his moon face as his little eyes darted agilely between Mario, Alessandro and Lauro. It was all too clear what he was thinking. Then he hurried to follow his buddy Ivano out.

"Everything all right, Lauro?" Mario asked. The boy was causing him trouble because he hardly spoke and if he didn't speak no one would be able to help him with his therapy.

"Sure", Lauro mumbled. His eyes, though, betrayed his words. Nonetheless he wouldn't allow someone to touch him, either inwardly nor physically. But Sandro obviously had found a way. Lauro stepped back as Mario stepped forward and Alessandro's hand slid from Lauro's shoulder. Both exchanged a look before Mario said. "You can call me any time, Lauro. Whenever you want to talk."

Lauro nodded absentmindedly and rushed out of the room.

"What was the quarrel about?" Mario asked as soon as they were alone.

"The usual things", Alessandro said in a cool voice. "I'm despised for being a fag, Lauro's despised for being a weakling. And for his name."

Mario sensed the hurt, although Alessandro's voice was indifferent. He stepped to him and took Alessandro's shoulders. Automatically Alessandro draw back and threw a nervous glance to the monitors. Mario set him free and beckoned him to follow. Outside Mario said with a low voice "It's the same situation that brought you to jail, Sandro. You must not be provoked by that stuff again."

Alessandro stood at the foot of the stairs. "So I should put up with this shit? They don't understand any other language than to punch their mouths. I've learnt to know them, believe me. "

"Maybe. But that's no solution. We can't solve everything with violence. Use your brain. You complained the power is with the strongest. That's not true." Mario started climbing up the stairs. "Tomorrow in our therapy group we can talk about it."

Alessandro stood and stared. First into nothing, than at Mario's arse, walking in front of his nose. He repressed his urge to be comforted in a foreign bed, by a foreign man. Sometimes it was all right. But most of the time Alessandro was glad if he could figure out his pain for himself. No need to show weakness like Lauro.

*

The circle of young men, having gathered in the discussion room, was manageable. Mario had seen to it that only the guys attended who had something to say to each other outside this session as well. Normally Alessandro didn't belong with them, because he was too much of a loner. But today, Mario wanted Alessandro to listen and, if necessary, to encourage others.

He crossed his legs and watched them one after the other, sitting in a circle. He smiled.

"There's nothing more perfect than a circle. It's without start or end. Endless, so to say. Therefore all wise statesmen, kings and emperors preferred this as their assembly form. The most famous is probably King Arthur and his round table. And since we are here as equal righted humans, everyone can speak and tell his opinion without being afraid."

Again he watched the faces in the round. "An incident yesterday made me change the topic for today." He gave a brief glance to Lauro who blushed and had his head bent down to his chest. "Our topic for today will be: The right is with the strongest."

Alessandro moaned inwardly. What was this crap about. In the imagination of the do gooders and therapists that the world might appear as a doll's house, that they can paint and trim with their enthusiasm. Where they could shove the puppets wherever they wanted them , but in reality it didn't work that way. Mario was one of those people, believing in the good of all humans. Alessandro didn't do that anymore.

"I'd say, the proverb is right", he said aloud, and earned a sinister stare from Mario.

"And why do you think so?"

"Because the strongest have the power. And who has all power has the right."

"To do anything?" Mario completed the sentence.

"Exactly."

Mario leaned forward. "Interesting. And who do you think is responsible for that?"

Alessandro shrugged.

"It's the law's fault", a boy chimed in. "the economy, what do I know? My father says, government is just a puppet on the strings of the economy. In the last but one century workers worked their butts off like slaves and nobody helped them. The rich are getting even richer, no matter which government rules."

"This means, the government hasn't the power but those who give us work and bread?" Mario asked.

"Therefore the trade unions exist", somebody said dryly.

Mario's eyes lit up. "That's the point, Benno. What's the task for the trade unions?"

"To gather the workers and fight for their rights."

"Right. So.... you here complained that the power is with the strongest. Each of you has already had experiences with the dark side of this institution here. Guys you are glad not to meet outside you are now forced to live with. You say you can't hinder that they annoy you. But you can. You just have to stay together."

Someone suppressed a laugh.

"Yesterday when Lauro was attacked by Pietro and Ivano you all left the room, except Alessandro. What was the reason? You didn't want to get into trouble. And therefore you left one of yours alone." Again Mario's translucent, amber eyes wandered over the faces. No one could look him in the eyes. Except Alessandro, of course.

"What makes you think that Lauro is one of us?" one said.

Mario raised his brows. "He isn't? You all belong to the grey mass who hide because you want to be left alone. But that's not the meaning of this institution. You all have more or less quite a record, starting by repeated theft to manslaughter. It makes no sense to balance the deeds out against one against each other and to elect those who have done the most, as leader."

"But that's how the world outside is working." Alessandro pierced Mario's eyes. Both measured each other with looks. Apparently Sandro didn't want to help him today, Mario thought sadly. Or he didn't understand the meaning.

"Nonsense", Mario said. "It must not work this way, do you see?"

Alessandro thought Mario had no sense of reality. Or it had got lost behind these walls. Besides, I would have to be their leader then, he continued. And heaven may protect us from a violent, perverted gay as leader.

"Stick together and fight against those who oppress you", he heard Mario say with a hint of fever in his voice. He would be a good agitator, Alessandro thought. He could imagine Mario standing in front of a wide crowd, shouting into a megaphone and calling the workers to fight against the capitalists.

"And how to do that without violence?" one asked.

"You don't need violence when the other is lost for arguments."

Alessandro shouted inwardly with laughter. This couldn't be true. "How's that?" he said aloud. "When one is lost for arguments then there will be peace? But, Mario! That's crap! If we are lost for arguments and words, then the war starts. Don't you understand? It works this way all over the world, in a village or in a metropolis, at home or in the big wide world. You can't improve the people."

"I can. Here and now. In our small circle the future starts. Even a journey of 1.000 miles starts with the first step."

"Wise words. And what do you recommend us to do now?"

Mario leaned his forearms upon his knees. "Stick together and take responsibility for each other. You aren't here to be hurt by your fellow prisoners, but to learn something for yourself. During your stay here you should use it to ponder who you are and what you want in your life. Dandoli and Zardi can only hurt you as long as every single one of you is alone. As soon as you are together, you are strong."

Alessandro followed Mario's gestures. He was right of course. But still: the world followed different rules. Mario started from false assumptions, namely that there would be no resistance. But resistance challenged resistance. Dandoli and Zardi and all their mindless and mediocre buddies wouldn't give up. The problem was much deeper. It wasn't about a show strength. From Luca he had learnt that weakness could be a strength too and that sometimes taking a detour was the shorter way.

*

He stared at Elmo's body. Water pattered from the shower head upon the body standing beneath, wriggling his arse aggravatingly. Alessandro knew that this was only for his benefit. Lads, standing beside him under the next shower pushed each other and giggled, waiting for Alessandro's reaction. Would he get a hard on or not?

Elmo whistled to himself, turned and presented his cock, that was rock hard because Elmo had clutched the root of it. Alessandro had hardly seen a similar, exciting length before.

Exciting? One look into Elmo's stupid, lecherous face, and he knew that he would never be turned on, the length could be as extraordinarily as it wanted. Elmo rubbed his palm up and down, until the veins appeared and the piece of flesh between his fingers went dark red like a well- hung piece of beef.

"What do you think about this, Gondi?" he shouted now, waving with his cock. "Is it good enough for a suck?"

The laughter echoed from the tiled walls. Alessandro saw that Lauro had turned off the shower and hurried to the exit. Others followed. So much for Mario's attempts at conversion. But he saw Benno was still standing and watching. He had forgotten to rinse off the soap that covered his body.

"What do I think about that?" Alessandro said calmly, turning off the water and wiping the water from his body. "I've seen better." A malicious grin graced his lips as he turned and walked slowly out of the shower.

"What do you mean, you've seen better?" Elmo dropped his cock that still stood proudly over his navel and nodded with each step he made as he rushed past Alessandro, poking his hot meat into Alessandro's back. "I bet you've never had such a fat cock up your arse", he hissed.

Quick as lightning Alessandro turned and groped for Elmo's cock. He clutched it painfully hard and tugged Elmo with it close to his chest. "You nasty piece of a ratfink. Go and fuck one of your buddies, but leave me alone."

Elmo laughed high pitched in anger and fear. He stepped backward and bumped into Benno who stood behind him with folded arms. "Go to the girls and show off with that."

Elmo, suddenly unsure, slid around Benno and snatched up his clothes.

"Thanks, buddy", Alessandro said. Benno nodded.

* * * * *

"Amore,

I received your collection of dried and pressed flowers. They are so lovely. We haven't got any flowers here, just vegetables and potatoes. Mind you, the cauliflower and the zucchini are big this year, Mario says. He doesn't know that I gathered some of the cow's manure and fertilised the earth with that. That's the way Fran does it. I have decorated my room with your flowers.

Leoni wrote me a letter. She will stay at Fiesole over the summer. I guess, meanwhile she's got used to the baby and probably won't give him up. Anastasia is besotted by little Matteo. I will clear it up with her when I'm out of this damn place here. I'm sure she will be very disappointed, but what difference will it make to her?

How are you doing? Please tell me about the progress of your work. I treasure the blue lizard and carry it wherever I go.

Everything's fine here, except I suffer from emptiness and boredom. When are you coming?

Baci,

Alessandro"

Alessandro heard the closing of the iron doors. One after the other they were shut closed and locked twice - so the nightly ritual went. At least they were greeted with a 'good night' when it was Guiseppe, the night guard. The heavy bunch of keys clattered from afar.

Alessandro, lying on his stomach, folding the written letter, didn't turn when his door was shut and locked. For a brief moment he thought he couldn't breath anymore. He feebly answered Guiseppe's wish, then he rested his head upon his forearms.

It was July and the cell was sticky. He could only tilt the window slats; in front of it there were grates. Almost eight months he'd been here now. To be exact: seven months and thirteen days. That made it all in all about two hundred and fifty days. That made it all in all... definitely too many minutes. Slowly he rolled to his side and was confronted with Luca's face on his drawing. The wide, dark eyes, so bright and soulful. The sensitive mouth that let escape a pearly laughter if Luca wanted to. And during their time together he often wanted to. And therefore Alessandro would do the hell and not tell Luca what really was going on here. That everything repeated itself. That again he was confronted with homophobic behaviour that made him feel so helpless. Helpless and angry. He couldn't control himself. Sometimes. He felt the same boiling hate he had felt that night in October when he had challenged Raniero Riefoli and his gang of stupid, drunken bastards.

Now he was dead and Alessandro still didn't know what to think. Talking about it with Mario and the group was useless to a certain extent because Alessandro didn't know himself what to feel. He should be aghast about himself. He was a murderer no matter if society called it manslaughter resulting in death, or an accident resulting in death or self-defence. It really didn't change the fact that a human was dead because of his deeds. Because he had taken a stone and crashed it on a human skull. How could he ever forget the sound?

And yet Luca's love was there as ever. Unchangeable and steady. Neither Franco nor Claudio, Tristano nor Rosso; not even Vito had mentioned the incident again. They were all acting as if Alessandro was at a summer camp and would come back as if nothing had happened. But that was just self-deception. Alessandro knew very well that he was changing his personality and that he would return to Luca as stranger.

Alessandro's eyes stroked Luca's face. For Luca's birthday he had given him a hand-made shirt, one of his first tailor's pieces. It didn't look that bad and it fit more or less. Alessandro gave a brief snort. Last year he had given him the precious lapis lazuli and this year... his hand searched under his pillow and produced the deep-blue lizard. He sat it upon his palm and watched it. The green serpentine-eyes seemed vivid and the stone shimmered with a silky surface. He wondered how long Luca had needed to polish it. Clutching the figure in his palm, he turned onto his back, turned off the light and closed his eyes. It was useless to ponder about his boyfriend. It just gave him nightmares. He'd rather think about the incident under the shower. It was nothing new for Alessandro that the guys were daring him. Apparently they thought for him - the fag - the daily shower must be a nightmare to see the naked guys and never been allowed to lay hands on them. Pah. They weren't not as half as alluring as they thought they were. And the rest were cowards, considering Mario's words of sticking together against the flock of bastards. Mario should know that the hierarchy within a prison is important to survive. No matter if this was a youth custody or an ordinary jail.

Benno was the only one Mario's words had fallen on fertile ground. Alessandro's lashes fluttered. Benno - the big baby with the rosy skin and the bald head - looked like a hooligan but he wasn't as half as threatening as he looked like. He had repeatedly dealt in drugs and his last sentence had lead to this imprisonment.

Alessandro's thoughts went on to Lauro, the kleptomaniac. Nobody had heard him ever talk about his past, his family or his friends. Mario said Lauro's lawyer had pleaded for absence of criminal liability because of a psychological disturbance, but the psychiatric report had explained Lauro was absolutely sane. Motives for kleptomania are different and very controversial. Mario said they argue about the term compulsion or addiction. And some say kleptomania is a substitution for suppressed wishes. Considering that Lauro had stolen things he didn't need, like a golden lighter, expensive cosmetics or a cashmere scarf, they assumed, Lauro did it just for the sake of doing it.

Perhaps he got a hard-on when he put something furtively into his pockets, Alessandro thought half-grinning before he drifted off.

* * *

Alessandro was happy about the new clothes, Uncle Arrigo had sent, and the parcel from Luca with the extraordinarily yummy smelling soap. It was a rather large block that he had cut into small slices and it was smelling deliciously of caramel and honey. Alessandro had learnt to think as a prisoner and to value all the little things available naturally in the world outside.

"Carino,

Here are some paper clippings I hope you will receive. It's about the expedition to San Clemente, Rome. You remember the institute had sent out a group of scientists and archaelogists to examine the cemetery to possibly find the grave of Masaccio. Well, they weren't allowed to open all of the graves because of the sanctity of the corpses , but they were digging every other centimeter. Most likely there wasn't a single distinguishable bone left from Masaccio when he was buried in wet ground and earth. But read for yourself :-)"

Hastily Alessandro unfolded a sheet of a newspaper that had passed the censor.

"... It had been the final day of the expedition when the inside of the Santa Catherina- chapel was examined once more. By the recent renovation - though yet five years ago - two tondi with angel's heads had been found behind the altar that had hidden them for probably six hundred years. Both of the frescoes couldn't be assigned to either Masaccio nor Masolino. Since the diary of Masolino da Panicale had told us, Masacio's younger brother Giovanni had been with them for help (and entertainment) it is considered that it was him who drew the frescoes.

Expedition leader Professore Vicente Befano examined the wall and decided to have it x-rayed which showed a cavity holding a longish, let's say parcel. Befano saved the frescoes and decided to open the wall to discover a mummified corpse. Attached to the corpse was a leather bag with paint-stones, a collection of brushes and crumbled paper. According to Befano the scientists believe, that Masolino and Giovanni returned to give Masaccio a decent grave. And what could be easier as to lay him to rest in the chapel of his works..."

"And may angels guide you to thee rest..." Alessandro whispered. Wow. So the story had found an end. He looked at the small photo that was attached. It showed the Santa Catherina-chapel and the torn wall behind the low altar. An even smaller photo was attached of the mummified corpse. Surely the opening in the wall had been almost airtight to preserve Masaccio's bones and belongings. Poor lad. The article didn't say what they would now do with his remains.

"Isn't it exciting??"he continued Luca's letter. "Do you think Masaccio will now receive a real grave with a tombstone and all?

I passed the theory of my driving test yesterday. Now it's about actually driving. I'm pretty nervous and you aren't here to help me. Thanks again for the money you've provided for this. I would never have been able to pay for the driving lessons. Well, now of course, everyone is waiting for me to play the chauffeur for them 😉 I guess, next time I'll bring Rosso with me, if that's all right with you. Rosso, by the way, has fallen in love with Tris' ex-girlfriend Carolina. They date occasionally but still there's nothing serioius since the little crumbs are always with him. Dani will have his first year at school and little Seppe attends the kindergarten. It will be a relief for Rosso.

Summer is hot and long and lonely without you. The Opificio is closed and I'm not sure what to do. I was walking up to Fiesole to visit Anastasia and the baby. I've taken some photos with my old camera, but I need to develop them. Little Matteo is growing more each time I see him. Anastasia says he's getting his first tooth. Unfortunately he doesn't look like you (or shall I say, fortuntely for me?). Is Claudio still worrying that he is the father? Well, he should do a paternity test then. I could bring him some hairs of Matteo. But such a test is very expensive and I doubt Claudio has enough money for that.

Leoni is fine. She looks much better and has gained much weight. You could tell she's going to be fat 😉 Well, coompared to her former skinny being, she is. It must be Anastasia's care. Meanwhile she's much too lazy to leave Fiesole. Either she will move with the baby to Uncle Arrigo's family or she'll stay at the Villa with Anastasia and Fran. Her mother came lately to see her grandchild. A pretty unpleasant person, dolled up to no end.

Tristano had told me on the quiet, that he has allowed Vito to have sex with him, er, I mean, well, you know what I mean. It was the first time after the rape. I think this means Tris is really in love. Or more than that. His sister Isolde will return from America soon and so Tris is either to move in with Vito or to return to his home. I'm curious what he will decide. And when he will finally tell his parents about Vito! For the moment they are on holiday in Jesolo to visit Franco. They asked me to go with them, but I didn't want to be the fifth wheel on the carriage.

Giano has quit his idea of becoming a surgeon. He can't stand to see open torsos. Tino wants to become a children's doc and offered the idea that they get a joint practice later. Heavens. Love birds and plans and happiness all around.

I have attached some watercolours I made while I strolled through the meadows. I hope you like them.

More with the next letter. I miss you.

Luca."

Tears shot into Alessandro's eyes when he saw Luca's deliberately colourful paintings. Luca mustn't be so unhappy. Alessandro sensed the melancholy between his cheerful sentences. It would be better if he found someone else he could rely on; who was there for him and fulfilled his longing to be loved and cared for. Alessandro couldn't give him what he wanted. Not now and probably not even in the future. He couldn't quite tell why, but he had a certain feeling, a feeling of change, struggle, mistrust and loneliness that would never leave him, no matter if he was released from prison or not.

_______________________

 

6

_______________________

 

Luca was absorbed in his work. He never heard the loud moaning of his fellow students nor saw Tristano's attentive looks that he followed Luca's work with.

Luca was busy laying the matching semi-precious stones, cut into thin plates, into the black stone-plate. He had conceived a simple flower-pattern he didn't have to cut too much. Luca smoothed the light-green malachite with sandpaper and tried anew. The leaves he made from jade and golden-black pyrite for the shadows.

With awe Tristano followed Luca's hands, securely and purposefully choosing the right, pre-cut stones to sort them out: yellow heliodor for the petals and tiger's eye for folded down petals, corals for the bells and amber for the anthers, light blue achat and translucent opal for a lily.

All students used inferior stones with inclusions and cracks, waste materials for the training, but Luca was able to do something beautiful with them. He worked until everyone except Tristano had left; Luca had missed Coppo standing silently behind him and his prompting to call it a day.

Coppo smiled at Tristano and sat beside him, opposite Luca. "If you could, you would work through the night, Luca, right?" he asked quietly. Luca lifted his head startled and tried to focus his eyes on his teacher. He blinked several times like an owl. "Scusi?"

Coppo reached over and took hold of Luca's hand. He wrenched the pliers from his fingers and put the bowls of stones aside. "Every good artist need a rest", he said. "Have you decided what to do with the rest of the lapis lazuli?"

Luca shrugged: "I haven't decided. Perhaps a lion's head? Or a bunch of owls."

"Owls?" Coppo grinned.

"My favourite bird besides parrots and cockatoos."

"Lovely indeed", Coppo said, winking at Tristano. "Difficult for you though at this time of your education. It would rather be something for your brothers." Coppo eyed Luca's face that had hardened from within. "We don't speak together", Luca said.

"And wouldn't it be time now to start?"

Luca looked at Tristano, seeking his help. "What's there to talk about?" he said sullenly, shoving the bowls back and forth. "We've never talked about last October."

"And it's October again. One year has passed, Luca. Your brothers aren't the same I've heard. I have little to do with them, but my colleagues say, they are monosyllabic and broody. More than they have ever been before, you know."

Luca nodded. "I know", he said with a low voice. "But I'm still afraid. The silence frightens me more than their shouting at me."

Tristano looked nervously at his watch. It was about time he left if he wanted to see Vito before he went to work. Luca noticed. "Give Vito my love, will you", he mumbled.

After Tristano had gone, Luca continued "Once I overheard a talk between them. They had to work at an AIDS-hospital. They saw many things; guys that were dying, guys never getting any visits from friends or parents because they were despised and hated for being gay. I'm not sure whether it influenced my brothers behaviour. Perhaps they just think this is what a faggot deserves."

Coppo took Luca's chin and searched his face. "How' s Alessandro doing? You never talk about him. People think you've broken up, despite what he did for you."

"People don't know that he did it for me", Luca protested. "It wasn't in the newspaper. Just that he got involved in a fatal fight. The reason was never of interest."

"Luca", Coppo said softly, "The law is never interested in reasons or feelings. It can explain the bare facts, but it never influences the sentence. At least not much."

Luca jerked his chin back and stared down on his intarsia work. "Alessandro isn't the same anymore", he whispered. "I do understand him though. But... he's so strange and far away."

Coppo gave a low, heartfelt sigh. "This was to be expected, Luca. One year of being locked up, being separated from life and friends and his love. He would be an unfeeling monster if it didn't affect him."

"I don't know what's going on", Luca suddenly blurted, glad to spill it out to someone older and probably more understanding. "He never writes about it, nor talks when I visit him. There's his person in charge, Mario. I guess he's after him. And I sensed that there's something going on between other prisoners and him and there's this strange Lauro he cares for and tries to draw out his secrets."

"Hold it, hold it, Luca", Coppo outstretched his arm. "Who's after whom?"

"Mario's after Sandro. And I think he's succeeded."

Coppo lifted his brows in surprise. "I doubt that. If they were discovered, Mario would lose his job. And of course Sandro isn't allowed to write about internal matters. What kind of things are going on between Sandro and the prisoners?"

Luca shook his head. "I don't know. I just .. feel it. Bad aura. Some of the guys treat him nastily and Sandro doesn't stop them."

"He doesn't stop them?" Coppo pulled a very disbelieving face. "I can't imagine an Alessandro Gondi who would put up with something nasty, above all personal attacks."

"That's the mysterious thing. It's as if he has given up."

Coppo sighed again. "I'm so sorry about this, Luca. Can you speak with this Mario? Next time when you visit him?

Luca shrugged. Coppo patted his hand for comfort and felt helpless.

* * *

Vito was having a quick lunch when Tristano hurried through the door to Vito's flat to find him in the kitchen, eating while standing. He always seemed to be in a hurry. "I thought I'd missed you", Tris said breathless.

"Wow. I didn't know I was so desperately wanted", Vito said, his handsome face bright with a smile. He offered Tris the rest of his tramezzino, but Tris wrapped his arms around Vito's waist instead, feeling comforted and safe, so close to Vito's strong body. He leaned his head against Vito's cheek, felt his lover's heartbeat and the heat his body was radiating. Vito stroked his back and held him. He was always gentle with his young lover and did the best he could to make him forget the terrible abuse he'd suffered. "Be careful", Tristano whispered, afraid of Vito's nightshifts.

"I am", Vito whispered and kissed Tristano's ear. "Any news from Alessandro?"

"Luca doesn't say much. Do you think I can visit him?"

"Sure, why not?" Vito gently pushed Tristano away to look into his face.

Vittorio's feelings concerning Alessandro Gondi were biased. The carabiniero within him told him that Alessandro had gone over the top, first in not informing the police but starting a private retaliation campaign, second in being engaged in the fatal fight that got out of control. He had thought Alessandro was more intelligent than that. The human in Vito told him that Alessandro was an angry young man, wild and unpredictable and that he did it for Luca Montori - perhaps the biggest favour of love a man could give to another man. Personally Vito doubted that either of the boys ever realized what this meant - and what consequences it had for their future life. "He will be pleased", he said aloud. "Go and cheer him up." He leaned in and kissed Tristano. "I'm happy with you", he murmured.

And thirdly: The rapist of Tris and Alfredo was dead, he thought, while he smiled at his lover. A small part of Vittorio del Chiaro was relieved.

* * *

Cinzano, the white Maltese, tugged at Alessandro's trouser leg, but he didn't notice it. Probably Cinzano took this as a game and then gnawed at Mario's belt that lay on the carpet together with Mario's trousers, wrapped around his spread legs. He was bent over the back of his armchair and tried to find a rhythm with Alessandro who stood behind him, fucking him mercilessly.

Mario moaned and gritted his teeth but that was the way he liked it. No commitment, no touching. Just plain and simple sex. Deliberately, Alessandro was sliding in and out, finally increasing speed, he emptied himself. He stood rigid for a moment, enjoying the bodily relief and the brief space of blankness filling his mind. Then he held the condom's rim and pulled out.

Mario, his teeth still clenched, turned to him and rubbed his still stiff penis on Alessandro's abdomen. "Suck me", he said, locking eyes, until Alessandro went down on his knees. It was all he could do. And Mario's cock was better than nothing. On purpose he blanked-out Luca. Everything that reminded him of his lover at home was banished from his mind. If Alessandro wanted to survive the years he had to find release. He absorbed himself into the mechanical task of licking and rubbing the parts he wasn't licking, finally sucking vigorously at the crown until Mario gave a loud moan and flowed into Alessandro's mouth. A brief urge to gag was suppressed, then he was lifted to his feet and received a kiss and a probing tongue as reward.

Mario could be tender if he wanted to be , but most of the time he didn't want to. He wanted Alessandro's meat but he didn't bother with his body. As always Alessandro was fully dressed and had just opened his fly, so he was more than surprised when he felt Mario's hands drawing the trousers from Alessandro's hips, along with the old fashioned boxer shorts and caressed his testicles. "What would you say to staying overnight?"

"Huh?" Alessandro freed himself from Mario's tongue and mouth. "Impossible. What kind of guard are you? Blinded by a cock?"

Mario looked hurt. Then reason won upper hand. Of course Sandro was right. It was embarrassing that a prisoner had to remind him who was the good and who was the bad guy. Nonetheless he would had enjoyed the young man at his side for tonight. And of course his useful tool that was too good to be hidden behind those pale, old boxers. He bet that in real life the noble Alessandro di Gondi-Lucertola wore silky underwear or some other sexy stuff. Perhaps... if he when he left the prison, they could continue. At the same time Mario scolded himself as a sentimental fool. Although Sandro never talked about his boyfriend, Mario sensed that he was devoted and committed - despite what they did here in Mario's house.

"Ssh, Cinzano", he hissed. He threw a toy into the farthest corner. The white ball of fur jumped after it. Then he devoted himself again to Alessandro's half hard penis, standing with a leftward curve and caressed it to full erection. Alessandro grimaced, but put up with the administering.

"When will you let me enter you?" Mario mumbled close to his ear.

"Never and you know why", Alessandro said, annoyed, but nonetheless helpless under Mario's fingers, rubbing and circling, kneading and scraping until Alessandro bucked and Mario grinned shamelessly. "You bugger", he said. "But I like you for your devotion." One final, harsh stroke and Alessandro squirted until his legs began to get weak and he stumbled over his trouser legs, slumped together on the ground. Briefly he saw Mario's erection, but ignored it. Instead of he pulled up his jeans and was ready to go.

Cinzano accompanied him out. He left the door open for the dog to return and crossed the lawn on a path that would lead him to the yellow washed house of the youth's detention centre. Although late October, there wasn't the slightest whiff of Autumn in the air, but it was mild and balmy. Alessandro was hanging onto the warm, satisfactory feeling in his guts, when something cracked behind him and he felt a hard push in his back. He turned surprised and thought he could make out movement behind some bushes. He bent down and found the stone that had hit his back. His brows pulled together and all of a sudden the feeling of hate and anger was there again. "Come out, cowards", he shouted. Then everything went too fast for him. He felt himself overpowered by two figures, a flabby one, lithe and wiry the other, pressing him down to the ground until he was nearly eating grass.

"What are you doing with Giacomelli, you fag?" a high pitched voice murmured into his ear. "You faggots enjoy kinky stuff, right?" Alessandro felt his jeans being torn down and cool air streaming over his bare ass. "Stabbing for shit for instance."

An unbelievable anger rose within Alessandro. He didn't register Cinzano's excited barking and didn't notice the door to Mario's house open widely. He just wanted to fight. He groped for the body suffocating him and literally threw it from his own and there was just a tiny gap of humanity remaining that rescued him from jumping upon his foe, lying on the ground while the other was watching him, astonished.

"Sandro?" Mario's shouting suddenly slipped into Alessandro's mind and he snapped out of his brutal, inward fight. Cinzano darted over the lawn, encircling the group, barking. Pietro and Ivano vanished like a flash of lightning.

Alessandro groped at his backside to find his jeans ripped open, revealing his naked arse. "What for Christ sake was that?" Mario said bewildered. "Were you attacked?"

"Sure I was!" Alessandro shouted. "And guess who it was. We are out, Mario. If they know, everybody will soon know."

"Calm down, man." Mario took hold of Alessandro's shoulders. "I'm the one who should be in fear then. What are you afraid of, fearless, haughty boy? It's their word against ours."

Alessandro shook his head and strutted on, leaving Mario standing. Cinzano still barked.

Alessandro passed the guard who shouted after him because of his bare butt but Alessandro didn't care. They all could get lost. He of course drew the attention of everyone he passed, but never gave any answer, and went straight to the common room and searched for Pietro and Ivano. They weren't there, the cowards. But others of their league. "Look at the arse-fucker", one of them said lazily. "He comes in here to offer us his shit hole. Should we accept?"

Alessandro, furious, sized him up: Leo with a scar that ran from the corner of his eye to the left corner of his mouth. A broken face, cut into two halves, like his grin. Everybody was calling him Zorro. Alessandro raised his fist, hit Leo's face and left him sitting dumbfounded with nothing to say, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, until a fight started that alerted the guard.

"What the hell..." The guard took hold of Alessandro, who stood with raised fists, ready to fight his still sitting opponent. "Gondi, stop it. Goddammit." Without warning he twisted Alessandro's arm behind his back and shoved him into the hall, leading to the cells. He pushed him inside and locked the door twice.

Twenty minutes later the door was unlocked again and Mario entered his cell. "What happened?" he asked, standing in front of the sitting Alessandro who held the blue lizard tightly in his palm. Then he jumped up. "What happened? You know what happened at your house. Zorro provoked me. I'm the shit-stabber to everyone. I'm sure you didn't miss that fact." He snorted vehemently through his nose. "I thought being gay wouldn't be a big problem here, after all we aren't in a jail for adults. But of course we're gathered here because we aren't adult, are we, Mario? We behave like babies and immature kiddies and therefore we are watched over, no matter how much we torment each other."

Mario took Alessandro's upper arms "Be quiet, damn it", he hissed. "You didn't understand anything I told you at all, did you. I can't help you here without causing suspicion. Your next visitor is cancelled. Sorry." Mario let go of him and stepped back.

Alessandro glared at him. "That suits you all right, Mario, doesn't it."

"What do you mean?" Mario's eyes lurked behind his glasses.

"You understand me well." He stepped forward and whispered "I was just referring to your offer to stay the night with you. Luca's in the way for your all too romantic envisions of a happy ever after life with me as soon as I'm out of here." Alessandro's nose almost touched Mario's and his glasses steamed up from Alessandro's breath.

"You're sick, Alessandro Gondi" Mario whispered back slowly and harshly. "Who do you think you are? Irresistible like a Chippendale's boy? I've certainly had better guys in bed than you. We participate, that's all. I give you what you want and you give me what I want. Basta." He turned, went out and banged the door from outside. A second later it was locked twice.

* * * * *

It was the 3rd of December, Alessandro's twentieth birthday. Luca had been sad that he wasn't allowed to visit him, then he was pissed at him. Luca never learnt the reasons but assumed that Alessandro had been carried away by his bad temper. Once again. Luca could hardly understand how life was in a youth custody unit, but he supposed that Sandro was having problems because he was gay and some guys didn't accept it. Although Sandro had made certain he knew he was the team captain of their handball team and that he had some buddies he called friends. Well, what you call friends in jail. Why had he been so careless as to pin Luca's portrait to his wall. Alessandro believed everybody had to dance to his whistle, the world was turning around him and he was invulnerable- and invincible. Obviously he went through the painful process of learning this wasn't the truth at all.

Luca was drinking his third Cinzano-Mix. He had paid alone for himself the entrance fee to Villa Kazar and had sat now for two hours in a corner and watched the jumble surrounding him. Mostly girls were snogging with boys - like Rosso with Caro for instance - or boys with boys and nobody cared. Why couldn't it be always so and everywhere? Why had anyone to bother with whom Luca shared the bed?

In front of his nose another glass of Cinzano landed upon the table. Luca looked up into a pair of black eyes - at least in this flickering blue-green-red light they were the blackest eyes he had ever seen. "You dance with me?"

Luca jerked at the blunt question since how could the other one know if Luca was gay or not. A cheeky grin spread over the face and Luca wondered whether his homosexuality was marked on his forehead or whether he was behaving too camp. While Luca was staring indignantly into his face, the smile died. "Sorry... I thought..." he was about to leave, but then Luca got a grip on himself and held him. "No, I was just surprised. What made you think that I'm gay."

"You're the best looking guy here." And the cheeky grin spread once more over his face. A face with a too big nose and a short upper lip, pouting lips that made Luca drool inwardly and a softly cleft chin. The hair was a tangle of darkness and in his earlobes twinkled white stones like diamonds. Luca groped for the glass, lifted it and drank half of it. Slightly swaying he rose then and took the arm of his "admirer". Giggling he followed him to the dance floor and both vanished in between the mass of a hazy heat, smoke and a cacophony of scents and smells.

"What's your name?" Luca shouted into his ear. He liked his scent, something dark and arousing like Patchouli and chocolate. He had wrapped his arms around the narrow waist and deliberately his hands buried in the butt-pockets of his dancer.

"Raffaele", he said proudly well knowing that the name suited his image except he couldn't paint at all. But "Raffaele" promised nights of velvet and unbridled lust. "Sleep with me?"

Luca was drunk enough to nod and knead the arse cheeks through the fabric of Raffaele's jeans. He felt his own member rising and being rubbed and pressed against another stiff one.

Raffaele backed away when he saw where Luca was leading him. "Palazzo Gondi?" he asked, suddenly standing on the street like a stubborn donkey. "You're Gondi's boyfriend! I thought I knew you from somewhere."

Luca turned to him. "Does that mean you doesn't want to sleep with me anymore?"

Raffaele looked him up and down, then he grinned. He took Luca's arm and dragged him through the wooden entrance gate Luca had unlocked. "I've never been in an old palazzo", he said, 'Well, I've been to the museo of Palazzo Davanzati, but that's only stuff made for the tourists. Do you live here alone now?"

Luca dragged him upstairs since the lift was out of order again, and opened the door to Alessandro's room. His mind was in a state of drunken dizziness and right now he didn't care what Alessandro did or did not do. What he would think or think not. Perhaps he was with his warden - Mario - and.. and... Raffaele stood behind him and started to kiss Luca's neck, while roaming his hands over his body. "I do want to fuck you. I never understood what you were doing with Gondi when he can't decide if he's gay or not. I, on the other hand, are keen on boys only. What about you?"

Raffaele's hot breath tickled Luca's ear. "Only boys", he whispered coarsely and gave in. He followed in awe the speed Raffaele shed his clothes and let himself fall naked upon the bed Luca had made before he went out to celebrate Alessandro's birthday alone. He followed the luring eyes and the gleaming of Raffaele's naked, hairless skin. His natural tanned darkness gave a nice contrast to the pastel stripes of the bed clothes. Seductively Raffaele opened his legs and almost innocently touched his upright standing dick and his dark testicles. One finger traced the trail leading to his even darker hole.

Luca's body was inflamed. He literally ripped off his clothes and jumped to Raffaele's feet. One year of self-restraint exploded into a pretty harsh devouring of the offered cock and a grunting licking and tongue-penetrating of the offered entrance. Raffaele lay spread eagled and saw stars. He had never been so feverishly sucked; Luca came over him like a thunderstorm, leaving a wet creek on his chest, a puddle in his navel and a sea of saliva around his butt hole. Raffaele was ready to being fucked, he spread his legs wide open and pulled Luca onto his body where their lips found and met, exchanging musky taste and seductive moistness.

*

Alessandro shoved his member deep between Mario's risen legs. His calves rested upon Alessandro's shoulders, making his tunnel tight as soon Alessandro entered him. A minute of restless fucking, noiseless and silent. Just the sounds of softly slapping flesh, a low rustling of pubic hair and the wet slurping of a well lubricated condom being pressed into a tight canal. This was Alessandro's birthday gift. A stolen hour in the late evening, shortly before sleeping time. Alessandro could still hold in check the gang around Zorro and Elmo, Pietro and Ivano, but he wasn't sure for how long. And he didn't know what excuses Mario conceived, to be alone with Alessandro. He didn't want to know anyway, after all it was Mario's job at stake. If it would become a pitched battle, Alessandro could always claim to having been seduced by the older one, coming down to fornicate with his charges and that would Mario cost his job. Well... if Mario was so horny for Alessandro that he didn't care at all.. so be it.

He rose, kneeled between Mario's legs, groped his calves and bucked fervently in and out - just the way Mario liked it, raw and raunchy. Ruthlessly Alessandro could let himself go and directly find his satisfaction. From a distance he listened to himself - his flat, laboured breathing, proceeding into panting the more he was closer to climax. Mario arched his back and tugged at his cock as if he wanted to rip it off. A puddle of sweat had gathered in the little trough in the middle of his collarbones. He moaned and squirted while Alessandro slammed into him, closing his eyes and thinking about Luca. He was almost losing his erection, now so close to the climax. It was painful to miss the closeness he shared with his boyfriend.

While he emptied himself into the condom he realized - that though the movements were always the same - it wasn't the same at all. Rigid for a moment, he pulled out mercilessly and didn't pay any care for Mario at all. He shook him off like a weary mosquito when Mario slid closer and wanted to snuggle. "I need to go back", Alessandro mumbled.

Alessandro almost expected those gloating glances again that he was receiving from the gang of Zorro. They never stopped, but the disdainful words had. Nobody dared to call him an arse-fucker. Alessandro had climbed the peak of the hierarchy. Everybody sensed Alessandro di Gondi- Lucertola wasn't a soft-boiled effeminate, tumbling around arse-wobbling and with limp wrists, nor was he born with a permanent nasal voice. Alessandro was a man a hetero couldn't hope to be described better, and he had already killed another man. That he didn't do it purposefully only increased the myth. Alessandro knew that Pietro and Ivano knew what he and Mario Giacomelli were doing when they were alone. But they held their mouths for what ever reason.

He sauntered through the common room and sat at a table in the corner to pick up his books. They lay untouched as he had left them. Sighing he opened them and turned the pages that described the difference between Duccio di Buoninsegna, Cimabue and Giotto, their large Madonna-paintings and their conception from a plain view to an almost three-dimensional sight.

Something wanted to be free inside of him. The thought of Luca for instance. He felt that Luca was thinking of him - today on Alessandro's twentieth birthday. He still had so many months without him ahead.

*

"Where are you going?" Raffaele complained when Luca suddenly froze and looked at him as if he was a stranger - which he certainly was. Luca rose, still dazed and drunken from the alcohol and Raffaele he tumbled into the bathroom and grabbed a handful of condoms.

"What's this crap for?" Raffaele moaned when Luca returned. "I hate those rubbers, really." He tried to pushed them away, but Luca closed his fingers over them. "It's either with or not at all", he said decidedly. Raffaele rolled his eyes. "I didn't think I could get pregnant", he said, laying back, opening his legs, pulling Luca over him. "Let's try to make a baby", he cooed, stroking gently over Luca's still erect and now covered penis. But Luca didn't want to be gentle and soft at all. He was so horny that he just wanted to find release. But he didn't want to hurt Raffaele either. So he restrained his flaming desire and thought instead of Alessandro and what he had done on occasions like that.

Alessandro accompanied him finally, guided him and made him think it was his boyfriend he was slipping into, making Raffaele moan and buck and squirt in the end as he was himself finding release. He didn't resist when the young man at his side wanted to flip positions as long as he used the rubbers. And it wasn't that bad to wake up with a strange guy at his side. It wasn't bad though unfamiliar despite the fact that Raffaele looked as good in the morning as he had looked in the night.

With a jolt he realized the time and that he had overslept. He should have been at the Opificio an hour ago. Harshly he shook Raffaele's shoulder and caused a sleep-drunken smile on his face. "Raffaele! We have to go up. I need to go to work."

"You're working?" Raffaele yawned and wiped his eyes. Beautiful, chocolate brown eyes and a firm, extraordinarily smooth skin Luca couldn't stop thinking.

"Yes!" He almost rolled Raffaele out of bed and jumped over him into the bathroom where he splashed water into his face. He probably reeked of sex but he couldn't help it for the moment. "Raffaele!" he shouted through the rooms as he dashed back to gather his clothes only to find Raffaele blissfully slumbering. Luca sighed. Hastily he searched for a sheet of paper and scribbled something. He dropped it upon Raffaele's jeans where he would find it, gathered his rucksack and left the room, stomping down the stairs.

When he returned in the early evening, Raffaele was still there - or he he had returned. Luca found him, sitting in an armchair, leafing through Alessandro's books. He was wearing one of Luca's pullovers since it was cold in the room. "Why haven't you started the fire", Luca asked, put down his rucksack and the box with the pieces of a pizza.

Raffaele looked up. "I don't know how to."

Luca pulled out the wrapped tools he had been given by his father for his 17th birthday. Niccolò had recently agreed that Luca should use them, now that he had a sort of knowledge of what he was doing with them. Coppo had looked at them with awe but still found them useful and nice to handle. Raffaele looked over his shoulder. "What's this? Are you craftsman?"

"Sort of." Luca turned. Raffaele appeared fresh and clean as if he had spent the whole day here, trying out the bathtub and the shower and all the pleasures this palazzo had to offer, except that he couldn't start a fire. It started to get really cold outside. "I'm working at the Opificio delle Pietre Dure."

"Wow", Raffaele said respectfully. "You're an artist."

Luca laughed. "Far from it. Apprentice." He wrapped the neatly sorted tools into the bundle of cloth and then opened the cardboard box with the pizza. "What are you doing here? Haven't you got a home?"

"Sure, a room at a house in Bellosguardo. My parents run several trattorie and some years ago sold the Paszkowsky Bar", Raffaele said, somewhat apathetic.

"Oh no, not a another rich boy", Luca sighed while he bit heartily into his piece of pizza. "Help yourself", he said and Raffaele took another piece. "Anchovies and artichokes? That's my favourite." He chewed and swallowed. "Do you have a problem with rich guys?"

"I have the feeling that nobody's working just living off all the money they possess."

"I guess you rather draw the rich guys", Raffaele chuckled. "What about Gondi for instance?" He sat back into the armchair near the still cold fire side. "And can you please stir the embers?"

Luca finished his pizza first and then he stoked up the embers, putting some crumpled paper upon it until they caught fire. He added pieces of coal and soon warmth was spreading into the room. Yeah, he thought, what about Alessandro? He threw a suspicious look at Raffaele, lounging in the armchair. Was he sneaking around and had found Sandro's letters? Or the drawings? Had he put on the leather suit?

Luca rose. "He's in prison as you certainly know ", he said coolly.

"And you live here alone? How old are you?"

"Eighteen and a half."

"I'm eighteen too", Raffaele said and snatched another piece of pizza. "Can I stay here for a while?"

"Why do you want to do that? You have a house you said and don't know about stirring the embers?"

"Well, Mamma doesn't like an open fire. We just have a fake."

"And you don't work? Or do an apprenticeship?"

"What for?" Raffaele quipped.

Yes, what for... Alessandro had been thinking the same thoughts. But living off his family's money wasn't exactly satisfying.

"What exactly happened that got your boyfriend sent to jail?" Raffaele asked after there wasn't an answer from Luca to his question. "And why did he marry? I mean, come on, the community knows he's keen on boys. Why this marriage then? Because he made her pregnant by accident?"

"That's nothing that concerns you", Luca said unfriendly. He sat in the other armchair and stretched out his legs. He felt tired. Actually he wanted to write a letter to Sandro. But he couldn't get rid of the boy with the colourful hair he noticed in the soft light of the lamp and the flicker of the fire. There were strands of violet and blond dyed into his dark hair. Funny.

"Sorry", Raffaele said hurt. "I don't want to appear nosy. But you must admit that it IS odd. Are you waiting for him until his release?"

"Actually I am." Luca's stare made it obvious that Raffaele wasn't a substitute. Just a momentarily distraction.

"Well, then why did you take me home last night? You were horny, right?" Raffaele's chocolate brown eyes caught the fire light and gleamed. He rose from his chair and knelt in front of Luca, putting his hands upon Luca's thighs, stroking them. "I could make it easier for you. I like you."

Luca briefly closed his eyes. Then he succumbed to the tender touch.

"I was caught by my brothers that night", he started with a low voice an hour later as they lay snuggled together in Alessandro's bed. His limbs felt heavy like his mind. The words dropped out of his mouth before he could stop them. "They wanted to teach me a lesson. Making me feel a woman which would be the right thing to do, instead of giving into Alessandro's filthy desires. You know." His voice trailed off.

Raffaele nudged him and wiped strands of blond hair from Luca's eyes. "Tell me more", he demanded.

Luca opened his eyes again. Raffaele's hair tickled his nose. "I didn't want to. It was nasty. Then I was able to send Sandro a SMS and he came to my rescue."

"On a white horse?"

Luca stirred, but Raffaele had meant the question seriously. "Not on a white horse. But with our friends. They fought. Sandro hit one of them with a stone. It was sort of self-defence."

"Oh." Raffaele let the information sink in. "Then he shouldn't be in jail."

"It's a youth detention unit. But it's like a jail nonetheless. Three years and eight months. Well, two years still. The judge thought it was wilful manslaughter. Alessandro was the aggressor and without his interfering and lust for fighting Raniero would be alive."

He sensed that Raffaele didn't agree. "He came to your rescue", he insisted.

"I know that. But the judge didn't think so. There wasn't an appeal since it was a sentence to the youth custody. Alessandro had to be thankful for that", he finished harshly and freed himself from Raffaele's embrace. The skin on his belly was sticky and glued slightly together with Raffaele's skin. Luca felt dirty. He rose, scrambled out of the bed and vanished into the bathroom where he turned on the shower. He wondered what he was doing here at all. Raffaele's presence in the next room was starting to piss him off. A hot stream of water gushed over his head as he washed off all the smell and remains of a night with a strange boy. He almost expected Raffaele to join him, but when he returned to Alessandro's room, Raffaele had fallen asleep.

Luca sat on the edge of the bed for a while, watching him. The slowly dying fire painted peace upon his face. The lips, swollen from too many kisses, were slightly parted. Blurred, white stands of semen were on his flat belly. Luca felt pain. Instead of crawling under the bed sheets he put on his jeans and sat at the desk under the windows and started to write a letter.

 

______________________

 

7

______________________

In February the reburial of Masaccio's corpse was finished. He had now found his final resting place in the chapel of Holy Catherine in the Roman church of San Clemente. Luca searched the Internet for more information to give to Alessandro. The computer had been a gift from his family for Christmas. He knew that Marcello and Dante had participated in this and this was the first sign for him that his brothers wanted to make peace with him. Despite that they weren't really talking to him, Luca felt it was time to do so. The brothers had changed the gym they attended and despite their working out, they had given up dealing in drugs and being in their old company. Raniero was dead and the hooligans at the casino had left their old meeting place as soon as they had all been released from jail. It was a relief for Luca as it was for his parents as well.

He remembered Christmas Evening when his mother had whispered that the majority of the money for his gifts came from his brothers. Astonished Luca's eyes had met Dante's who looked away. Marcello was suddenly very busy with studying the instructions for it's use. Luca didn't know what to say and since Dante wouldn't address him personally he got the first opportunity to speak to him when they met in the bathroom. Luca couldn't tell whether Dante had followed him there or not, but suddenly their eyes met in the small mirror over the sink.

Luca's first impulse was to push him and run away, but then he pulled himself together and withstood Dante's brown-eyed stare. He was his brother after all. The one he had lived with through almost eighteen years and they had been happy years. His older brothers had been a force he could rely on. Until everything had changed from one day to the next.

"If you need help setting up the computer, call me", Dante said huskily.

Luca nodded, but he couldn't bring himself to force a smile onto his face. Too much had happened. Dante was still looking. "I saw this guy dying", he said then with low voice. "This morning."

Luca didn't know what to think. He knew that his brother's time at the AIDS-hospital was actually over, but apparently they had decided to still work there in their spare time. An amazing realization. With a beating heart he stood and looked at his brother.

"Nobody deserves to die alone", Dante said almost coldly.

"I never noticed that you were very affected by Riefoli's death. You never raised a finger for Sandro. You knew it was self-defence."

Dante closed his eyes and turned to the door. When he had gone out Luca breathed out audibly. He didn't know what that was about. Perhaps it was Dante's way of saying sorry.

Almost it seemed as if the house of Montori had found back it's peaceful living together except that Luca still preferred to live in the room at Palazzo Gondi. It had become his new home and there he was closer than ever to Sandro.

He had passed the test for his driver's licence and was now able to drive his friends where ever they wanted and above all, it wasn't difficult anymore to visit Poggibonsi and Alessandro - if he was allowed to visit him. Sandro never wrote and told him the reasons for all of his penalties, and Luca worried. Alessandro had changed. What would happen when he was released? Would they continue on as if nothing had happened?

There it was: a picture of Masaccio's tomb. It was a simple marble plate with the inscription of the dates of his birth and death. He wondered if Masaccio was happy that his body had finally found peace. He printed the photo and listened to the screeching of the printer's needles. He had saved the money he got from his apprenticeship to buy the printer and thought lovingly for a moment of the lion's head he had started to carve from the remaining lapis lazuli. There still was enough for an owl. Or should it be a ring he could give to Alessandro when he was out? Luca wasn't able to carve rings, but he could learn how to. Coppo spent more time with him than it was necessary or usual. Perhaps because he felt that Luca could become a good worker. Or artist, as Coppo called it. For him, every worker at the Opificio was an artist, even Luca's brothers.

He heard the door open and shortly afterwards two arms embraced him from behind. He smelled the familiar scent of darkness and Patchouli. Raffaele was there, snuggling his face into Luca's hair. He came occasionally and their relationship was based more on a friendship than on sex, despite Luca feeling that Raffaele wanted more.

Luca turned. Raffaele had come from the barber's shop and had fresh violet strands in his hair. Luca grinned at him.

"What are you doing?" Raffaele asked. "Sneaking about for naughty boy's pictures on the Internet? What do you need that for, you have me."

He dropped his jacket and the woollen scarf to the ground and was about to take off his pullover.

"There's a photo of Masaccio's new tomb", Luca said hastily. Raffaele took the printed sheet. "Nice. You think this Masolino-guy would be satisfied if he knew?"

"I'm sure." Luca took the photo. "I want to send it Sandro. At least he's responsible for this."

Raffaele grinned. His naked upper body gleamed in the light of the lamp. "Actually you're responsible because you spilled your coffee over the diary." He crouched down. "Are we going out tonight? It's Friday night." He arched his dark eye brows expectantly.

"That's the reason you're slicked up from the barber and all? Up for a new conquest?"

Raffaele gave him a kiss. "My conquest is you tonight, surely."

Luca sighed inwardly. As much as he wanted to be faithful, it didn't work out. Raffaele was too cheerful, too carefree, too convinced that he would win in the end and conquer Luca's heart before Alessandro Gondi was out of prison.

The atmosphere was seething when they entered Tabasco Bar around midnight. A mass of tangled, sweating bodies, dancing to deep-dull, yet melodious techno-beats. The basses hummed in Luca's stomach and the beats thumped directly in his cock. A heat-wave of testosterone and adrenaline flooded over him as he pulled off his anorak and pullover, gave it to the bartender who put them into a separate room. Sharp whistling cut the room when the dancer entered onto the small stage in front of dozens of small black and white monitors showing fingers penetrating butt holes, kissing tongues and dripping mouths. Raffaele stood excitedly beside Luca and finally caught the silver pants the dancer had shed. He whirled them through the air and whistled with two fingers. The stomping of the rhythm gave Luca a painfully strong hard-on and when the dancer dropped his final clothing - his jock-strap - Luca almost shot into his pants. "Woo, hoo" Raffaele was still waving, then he took Luca and kissed him as if there was no tomorrow. Luca felt the iron between Raffaele's legs and grinned. Tonight would be a hot night.

When they pushed themselves through the people, Luca was most surprised to see Tristano with Vittorio. Vito never went to gay bars, especially not when the average age was around eighteen. But from time to time he enjoyed the familiar company. Florence's gay community knew each other, except for some fresh meat arriving from time to time.

Vito's arms embraced Tristano. The stab of jealousy was brief and surprised Luca. His night with Tris was in his heart forever - at least it was Luca who had been the reason for Tris' internal coming out. And that night was a pleasant night to remember. Then Tris stood a little out of breath in front of Luca, beaming. He leaned in and kissed Luca's lips.

"Whoa", Luca said, "watch out for your policeman."

"He's gone to the loo. Where's Raffaele?"

"Buying us a beer." Luca knew that Tristano didn't agree with his relationship with Raffaele but he never heard reproaches from him. Tris knew all too well about the pleasures of love and sex to be cross with his friend. They smiled at each other. "You look happy", Luca said finally.

"Of course! It's hard enough to get Vito into a club like this. But he seems to enjoy himself. Perhaps he was keen to see the stripper."

On this cue Tristano was embraced from behind and Luca felt a pair of black- burning eyes on him. Luca knew Vito wouldn't ask about Sandro because he didn't want to give Luca a hard time. "I was indeed keen to see the stripper", Vito murmured into Tris' ear. "I have an idea of what we'll do when we're at home."

Tris had goose bumps and Luca grinned. It really seemed as if Tris had overcome the horrid abuse he'd suffered. Raffaele returned with two bottles. After a brief smile to Tris and Vito he dragged Luca away.

Luciano sat slumped in a corner of a red plush sofa, drinking and smoking alone, by himself. He didn't seem to be interested in the least in the activities going on around him. Lucas' heart was still beating too fast from the rush of adrenaline while his cock had calmed down. He slid onto the sofa next to Luciano. "Everything's all right?"

Luciano gave a thin smile. He looked haggard and unhealthy. "I'm supposed to ask you that. Everything's all right? How's Alessandro?" He eyed Raffaele who had followed Luca. "Your new boyfriend? Hi, Raffaele", he said then listlessly. "How's Andrea?"

Luca ignored the question. "Sandro's all right. Only seventeen months to go." Luca avoided pondering about the seventeen months. Life went on.

"Well, then." Luciano finished his whiskey.

"You shouldn't drink so much", Luca said.

"It doesn't make any difference anymore." Luciano lit another cigarette. "I've AIDS."

"You've HIV", Luca insisted, wondering about the incorrect statement.

"No. It's got me finally."

Luca took a sharp breath. It was as if a mountain had collapsed over him. "Are you sure?" he asked unnecessarily.

"Shall I give you a memo?" Luciano snapped. "Despite the pills and all. And the docs had said that with this new treatment I still had years and years to live." His laughter scratched in Luca's ears. He turned to Raffaele who sat helpless. "So much for your dislike of rubbers", he said quietly.

Raffaele looked down.

"What are you doing now?" Luca asked.

"What I've always done. Waiting until the end. I lost my job a long time ago. They don't want to work with a sick guy. They didn't even want to touch me, acted as if I'd got the plague." Another burst of scratchy laughter, then he swallowed the cigarette smoke wrong and started to cough. "It's the plague indeed. Some say God has sent it to erase gays from this planet. Perhaps they're right."

"They are not right", Luca said determinedly and stroked Luciano's back "The doc gave you addresses of the AID organizations? They can help you certainly."

"Yeah, certainly." Luciano looked into nowhere.

Luca didn't know what to say. Could he have fun now while somebody was so hopeless? Luciano turned his head to him. "Go dancing with your boyfriend. Enjoy your youth while as you can."

Luca saw Tristano waving from the dance floor. Vito looked too funny as he tried to cope with Tristano's contortions and it made Luca laugh. Yeah, there was always somebody dying while others had the time of their lives. Another pair draw his attention: Sergio and Alfredo, the call-boys. Though still dressed up for a fancy-dress ball at Venice, they both clung together, as if there was nobody else. Luca knew from Tristano that they had given up their occupation. Sergio now worked in his real profession: barber and Alfredo had found an engagement at Teatro Verdi as a costume designer. Tristano had told him that Sergio had done it only for Alfredo's sake. That he should never be in danger again.

Luca gave Luciano a smile and shoved Raffaele into the mesh of dancing guys.

* * *

Raffaele had become his confidante. Surprisingly he could talk to him about all the things deeply hidden in his soul. Not even with Rosso had he been able to lay down his deepest thoughts; due to the fact that Rosso didn't play on the same team, and some thoughts you can only discuss with kindred spirits only. Raffaele was informed about Alessandro's faked marriage and the reasons for that. Luca had shown him photos of Anastasia with little Matteo in her arms. Leoni had gained even more weight and cared nothing about it. She had settled down into the daily routine in Arrigo's palazzo, going out with her friends, but was careful that nobody saw her with her changing boyfriends. At least while she still was Alessandro Gondi's wife and had to think about the reputation of the Gondi-family.

In Spring Raffaele accompanied him on his walks into Fiesole's hills, gathering flowers and herbs they later put between sheets to dry them. Luca had caught Raffaele several times standing in front of the white lily Luca had framed and hung on the wall, but he never asked about the secret. Probably he could figure out the connection between Prince of the Lilies and the dried flower himself.

They made a brief stop at Bellosguardo, where Raffaele's family lived, and went on into the awakening nature. Another Scoppio del Carro had passed, this time with Vito upon a horse, full dressed in clothes of the 15th century, watching over the crowd of people. Another anniversary of Luca's and Alessandro's first meeting had gone. Raffaele had become Luca's shadow. People became used to it and forgot about Alessandro Gondi, the Prince of the Lilies, dwelling in a jail at Poggibonsi. Occasionally Luca met one of his old friends who asked about Alessandro and whether they could visit him. They were talking about the old times when Alessandro had been their leader in doing nonsense and being a plague for the town. Those times were over. Alessandro's letters meanwhile filled eight shoe boxes that Luca kept in a wardrobe.

When the first qualifying matches started for the Calcio in Costume that Alessandro's Quartiero had won two years ago, Marcello and Dante had been there in the first place. They won for their team and would attend the final on St. John's Day in June.

On the day of the final match of the Gioco Alessandro felt very depressed. He knew from Luca that the Quartiero of Santa Croce was playing against his own Quartiero of San Giovanni. Impatiently he sat in front of the TV in the common room and waited for the local news. Perhaps they would say which quarter had won. Melancholic he remembered the day when he had been tackled by Raniero and Luca's brothers were all over him. He remembered the heat and the scraping sand, the blood and the pain. And the triumph when he had scored the most goals. It was worth the broken toes and nose.

Slowly his hand slid over the hump at the bridge of his nose. The scar in his left brow was also still to be seen. He remembered the time after; the holidays at the sea. And Leoni's bombshell that changed everything. Little Matteo was now fifteen months old and would learn how to walk on his soft feet. Alessandro wasn't sure why he was affected by this, after all Matteo wasn't his son. But he felt responsible nonetheless. For him and for Leoni. He wondered where they would be now if Alessandro hadn't been arrested. Probably gone a long time ago. The will of his late father had been fulfilled, and the inheritance was waiting for Alessandro when he returned to Firenze. But what did it mean to him? Nothing. He wasn't sure what to do afterwards. His study dragged along. He felt no enthusiasm to continue. Who would engage an ex-prisoner and entrust him with tourists?

And he had another problem: the new prisoner, Tito Boni, sentenced for arson, bodily injuries and attempted manslaughter. This made him more interesting in the odd hierarchy of the establishment. He tried to behave well, but Alessandro saw the gleaming brutality behind his baby face. A face that matched Pietro Zardi's, bald headed and tattooed all over. Both had hit it off quickly, much to Ivano's misfortune who was now pouting and feeling drawn to Alessandro. Ivano had apparently a short memory, considering the incident months ago when Alessandro had left Mario's house and had been attacked by Pietro and Ivano in the fields. Alessandro by all means hadn't forgotten it. That Ivano would make friends with a 'faggot' showed Ivano's isolation. Alessandro thought him a pain in the ass. He couldn't bear the toady-ness, although it flattered him at the beginning.

Mario couldn't help it. He was a dreamer, still thinking that he could save the world and make the people sane. Tito Boni had become a nightmare for Lauro, the small kleptomaniac. More than once Alessandro had been Lauro's rescuer which annoyed Tito and Pietro to no end. Alessandro felt there was something cooking up behind his back.

Absorbed in his brooding he missed when someone had switched the channel and was watching a daft film. Annoyed Alessandro wrested the remote control and switched back to the local news. The other protested.

"Next time you'll ask before", Alessandro snarled and listened to the news announcer, announcing a heat wave for the next days over the valley of the Arno. Then there was a glimpse of a dusty playground, and a triumphant howling when a decorated calf was carried away by green and golden dressed guys, covered all over in sand and dust and blood.

Alessandro leaned back. So, his Quartiero made it again. Pity for Luca's brothers he thought oddly. They would be pissed. Then he pressed the remote control into the other's hand. "Have fun." Alessandro went out. In the hall he found Lauro, sitting upon the bench, reading a letter. His fingers trembled slightly.

Alessandro sat next to him and watched his face. His eyes were bloodshot. "What happened?" he asked.

Lauro didn't answer.

"Hey", Alessandro touched Lauro's arm. "Bad news?"

"My brother died."

"Oh." Alessandro didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, mate. But we must go now, it's bedtime." He tried to pull Lauro up but he resisted. Unexpected a stream of tears flooded from Lauro's eyes and Alessandro flopped back onto the bench. "I know it's terrible, mate", Alessandro stuttered. "You should talk about it with Mario. Or the priest next Sunday." He hesitated. "Why... how did he die?"

"On the branch of a tree. With a rope around his neck." Lauro's voice was hard to hear. He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Alessandro gave him a paper tissue from his pocket. "That's horrible", he said. "Why?" Committing suicide was unimaginable to Alessandro. Those actions simply didn't exist in his world.

Lauro, helpless, shook his shoulders and sniffed again. The stream of tears didn't subside. Alessandro looked up for help. "Wait here. I'll be back in a second."

He went to Mario's office and entered without knocking. Mario sat in front of his computer typing a report. "Lauro needs help."

Mario turned and removed his glasses. "What happened?"

"He's got a letter. His brother died."

Mario cursed and rose. "Emilio!" he shouted. "How come a letter passed unnoticed?"

Emilio, an elderly guy who had seen and heard too much in this prison, peered around the corner and came closer. "What letter?"

But Mario waved him off and hurried along the corridor to Lauro's cell.

Alessandro went straight into his own cell, gathered his clothes and vanished in the direction wash room.

Tito was there, occupying a shower, fixed on the walls of the large, rectangle room. And - as always nowadays - his buddy Pietro Zardi. Pietro nudged Tito, giggling. "You remember when I told you about Elmo and his games?" Pietro's Piggy-Dick-face grinned at Alessandro. Tito didn't laugh. Actually he never laughed. He only raised his cheeks and revealed something similar to a wolfish grin. Alessandro stepped under the shower opposite to Tito and examined him from head to toe. His upper arms were tattooed with a spider, looking as nasty as Shelob lurking in the tunnel of Cirith Ungol, and a woman's head with long, black hair. His broad chest was covered with an eagle, spreading it's wings. Elmo had the longest cock Alessandro had ever seen, but Tito wasn't that bad either.

Actually he should have been aroused to no end, but there was nothing stirring in Alessandro's groin. Perhaps he had forgotten how to get a hard-on in a boy' s presence and was instead too used to his own hand. Tito soaped himself while trying to copy the lascivious movements of a table dancer. The eagle's wings spread and faltered with each movement. Alessandro saw that the glands of his cock had a silver piercing. He grinned into Tito's face and turned demonstratively.

Tito's wolfish grin fell. "You only get a hard-on when you fuck Mario, eh?" he shouted over the water's rush. Pietro hooted with laughter. He rubbed his hanging arse on Tito's leg who pushed him away. "Stop that, faggot", he hissed.

Like a flash Alessandro turned. "You wanna try it?" Unconsciously Alessandro took the soap - Luca's soap - and rubbed it all over his cock until it rose, became hard and ready. Then he stepped out from under the shower and went directly to Tito. "You wanna try it out?" he repeated, not blinking, his face cold as marble. He pressed Tito to the wall where they stood head to head and cock to cock. "If you don't keep your mouth shut, I'll stuff my cock into it and I swear you'll whine for more."

Pietro laughed hysterically out loud. Tito's eyes were closed into slits. "You would never dare, fag", he shouted and pushed Alessandro harshly away. Alessandro slid on the slippery tiles, but came to a halt without falling. "You're just a sissy, not able to face a real man" Tito hissed.

"I'd never dare? I'm not a real man?" Alessandro jumped almost up to Tito and hit him with the back of his hand. Tito bumped his head on the tiles and groaned.

"That's from the fag. Sissy."

Tito slid down and sat slumped under the water stream, wiping the back of his head. Pietro gave him such a baleful glare that Alessandro shivered involuntarily. Tito looked at his bloody fingers. "You bastard", he hissed.

Alessandro hurried to leave the room and scantily rinsed off his penis at the pissoir. The shower room was filling up. The time of shutting down was getting quickly closer. Alessandro looked for Lauro but didn't see him. Ivano asked him to wait for him, but Alessandro went away into his cell and waited for the warder. As he heard the familiar sound of the rattling bunch of keys and the locks almost noiseless turned, Alessandro stood up in front of his little mirror over the sink. His legs trembled. What he had done in the shower room tolerated no return. He had attacked Tito and this meant nothing else but war. Nobody could help him here. Not Mario, not Benno, no wardens, no director.

Alessandro had had enough of the needy gangs of thugs. He simply didn't belong here. But he had to survive. He rummaged in his toilet bag and found his razor. Blades were not allowed, so he had to put up with this electric monstrosity. His growth of beard was only sparse so the blades were relatively sharp. He draw a line over his skull. Twice again and his locks fell into the sink. He shaved until only a millimetre-long stubble covered his head. Alessandro bared his teeth. Offer no grounds for attack. He swept the locks from the sink into the bucket standing below. Luca would have a fit. But it was nothing that wouldn't grow again.

The next morning a parcel arrived from Luca along with more soap - vanilla and honey; no wonder he was considered a poof - Alessandro thought, grimly grinning. Nivea cream for his skin and toothpaste and other useful things. A folder appeared at the bottom with more dried flowers. On top was a little blue flower, a Non-ti-scordar-di-me. Forget-me-not. Alessandro almost sobbed. How could he.

"Amore,

This is going to hurt you, but you should hear it from me instead of from somebody else. I wasn't alone when I gathered the Non-ti-scordar-di-me. Raffaele was with me. I met him on your birthday, when I felt very lonely. People say he has become my shadow. You once said to me that I should look for another.

You said I shouldn't wait for you. I do. But it doesn't help the fact that I'm lonely. I feel so abandoned without you. Raffaele knows about you and me and that he has no chance. He takes it nonetheless and waits and is around and helps me through.

The dictionary says that the flower's name is myosotis what means nothing else than "mouse's ear". But I like the legend of the talking flower more. I hope you will pin it next to the other flowers and whenever you look at it you'll remember me. I do wait for you.

When can I visit you next? The brothers were pissed that they didn't win the Gioco. Dante's got a chipped bone in his nose, he was bleeding horridly. Rosso and Tris send their love as well as Giano and Tino. Have you heard from Leoni?

All my love.

Luca"

So, Luca's got himself a lover finally. Raffaele… Alessandro had expected it all the time. If this was the Raffaele he knew, it should be all right. Alessandro couldn't be cross with Luca. Not really. Not at all.

"Luca,

Do you remember when I said you didn't have to wait for me? You wanted to by all means. And I knew it would happen. You have to decide whether Raffaele remains just a stand in, or if we have both drifted apart so much, that there's nothing left for us. Well, you still have twelve months to make your decision. And I'll need it too. I'm not sure myself if I'd like to return to you. I fear that I'm not the same anymore. Perhaps it is good this way. One has to develop in ones life, right? But I guess, my development consists only of change. Whether it is for the good, I doubt.

I don't know what to tell you. Thanks for your honesty, even if it comes a bit late. OK, we are even anyway, because my honesty isn't exactly better than yours. I can't tell you more here; my letters I have to deliver open. Next time you come we can talk about everything. You will come?

I don't need a forget-me-not to think of you. Though, when I lean my ear very close, it seems to talk to me with your voice. I guess I'm becoming a drama-queen. Must be the Summer.

I've heard about the Gioco, in fact, I saw a snippet of it on TV. Sorry about the brothers. I mean it. Have they apologised yet? I remember you wrote that they've changed. I hear from Leoni occasionally. She sends me pictures of Matteo. I don't know why she does it.

I wait for your next visit. Love,

Alessandro"

In July Luciano's corpse was fished out of the Arno. His body had been caught beneath a dam of the river opposite Cascine Park. It was a shock for the community.

When Luca stopped the red Ferrari in the parking lot of the youth custody unit at Poggibonsi he felt very depressed. It was the day after Luciano's funeral at the cemetery of the Holy Gates of San Miniato. The community had given him his last escort. Luca and Raffaele had sensed a possibly of total shock spreading amongst them. HIV and AIDS had been pushed for too long from their immediate consciousness and Luca had noticed that bare-backing was gaining ground again, disregarding danger.

Entering the visitor's room he couldn't find Alessandro until he turned. Luca gasped, eyeing the stubble skull. "What the hell happened to your hair? Did you get lice?"

Alessandro laughed unhappy. "Not at all. You like my new outfit?" He pulled Luca next to him upon a bench in the corner. "Precaution. I don't want to being pulled through the washing room by my hair."

Luca stared at him. "Who would do something like that?"

Alessandro didn't answer. "I'm sorry about Luciano", he said instead after a while. "Did you attend the funeral?"

Luca nodded curtly, then he emptied his rucksack with the things Alessandro had wanted. "Have I told you that Zardi is getting lessons in Italian?" Alessandro said, "He's almost a dyslexic. The social workers want him to get an apprenticeship."

Again Luca stared at him, then he shook his head. He knew that Alessandro avoided by all means the really important subjects. The blue eyes in the small face gleamed feverish and his broken nose was all too prominent. Still Alessandro Gondi carried a noblesse that was as sharp as a sword. He wasn't broken. He still didn't feel fear. Or was this just a mask? "Is he the reason you cut off your hair?" he asked. Luca searched the room for the plump Pietro Zardi, but he wasn't there. His eyes scanned the visitors - mostly parents, talking to their sons.

"Not only he", Alessandro said and lowered his voice. "There's this new lad, Tito Boni. Well, he's been here now for some months. Nasty guy." Alessandro faltered. "I don't want to deny you, but I wish I hadn't been so open in the first place. You know..."

Luca took Alessandro's hand under the table and pressed it. "I understand." So, Alessandro was showing signs of weakness and regret. It was good this way. Fear will sharpen your senses for danger.

"I hadn't thought it would be a problem", Alessandro continued. "I always did what I thought would be right." He paused. "In the life outside. But this is a life of its own. Actually it isn't life at all." He looked up into Luca's eyes. "Tell me about Raffaele."

Luca tried to hide his reddened cheeks. Alessandro needed his support and he was with another, enjoying "life outside". Well, what you could call 'enjoyment'. But didn't Luca need a companion to be able to stand all this?

"Do you see him often? I thought you would bring him with you."

"Bring him with me?" Luca repeated astonished. "Why would I do such a thing? I don't want to hurt you."

Alessandro pressed his hand. "I told you I understand. I hope he's nice."

"I wouldn't be with him if he wasn't."

"Will you dump him when I'm out of here? Or will you dump me?"

"We can still be friends", Luca answered reserved, realizing his betrayal. But he had told Raffaele that there was no chance for a future life together. Nonetheless Raffaele wasn't to be stopped in spending his hours with Luca.

"The reason of my bald head is me and Mario", Alessandro said, dropping the subject. "I'm sure the guys have found out, or they suppose we are having an affair. So far, they've held their mouths, but if they go in that direction, Mario will be fired."

Luca looked down on the table. "So this is the end, yes?" he said with low voice. "You and me have found others?"

"Just to survive", Alessandro said and lifted Luca's chin. "Don't you think?"

When Luca had gone Alessandro felt bad. But he couldn't be too long in the dumps. He needed all of his concentration. Again Lauro hadn't had any visitors. But the slender lad would be released tomorrow. Alessandro asked himself if anybody from his family would come to pick him up. He still needed psychological help first for the suicide of his brother and then for his kleptomania that no one could be sure was cured. He met him on the floor, sitting on the bench he was always sitting at, staring into nothing, his face even paler than usual.

"Looking forward to tomorrow?" Alessandro asked, sitting next to him.

Lauro didn't answer, he just shrugged his shoulders.

"Anybody picking you up? Your parents?" he asked in a brittle voice.

Lauro's body jerked. "Why would they?"

Alessandro noticed that Lauro's fingers had started to tremble. He wondered why. Perhaps he was too excited to be leaving all this behind. "You can write to me if you like", he said.

Lauro's big, brown eyes turned to him. "Write?" he repeated and fell silent again. Then he rose and said "I wish you luck, Alessandro. Probably we won't see each other again." Without a look back he shuffled away.

Alessandro watched him until his body had vanished around a corner. He sat on the bench for some minutes pondering what to do. This morning he'd got back his test from the university at Pisa with an outstandingly good result. But Alessandro couldn't be happy about it. He didn't feel the use of it, albeit he enjoyed working through the lessons. He just wasn't sure for what he would use it. Food for his soul, he thought then. A reason not to get mad.

Lauro was missing at the large dining room, Benno noticed, sitting next to Alessandro. Benno had become his only real friend - the big, simple baby face with the good heart. Once he had told Alessandro that he had dealt with drugs to survive the life on the streets. His parents had chucked him out when he was fifteen, because they weren't in need of another mouth to feed. And Benno was a strong eater. Alessandro shoved him his portion of over boiled spaghetti and Benno gobbled it up. Thankful he blinked at Alessandro.

"He's probably packing his stuff for his release tomorrow", Alessandro said, "and he isn't especially keen on this stuff here." He pointed to Benno's almost empty plate.

"Why? It's good."

Alessandro grimaced. Sure, when you live on the streets even a rotten apple sounds delicious.

The warden was passing their table with brash steps, watching the guys eat. "I'm out here for Christmas as well", Benno said.

"You have plans?" Alessandro asked.

"Sure. The social worker got me a job."

Alessandro smiled at him. "Good for you. As a carpenter?" Benno had made an apprenticeship here in custody.

"Yes. I only hope I won't be chucked out too soon."

"It depends on you." Alessandro's eyes were fixed on the group sitting some tables away. Tito Boni with his gang, as he named them. Just Ivano was sitting apart, trying to get Alessandro's attention as ever. Since he had broken with Zardi, Zorro and Boni he was a loner. Alessandro couldn't forget what he had done to him. And still there was the danger that Zardi would go to the director to inform him about the forbidden liaison between Alessandro and Mario.

Alessandro pulled the dessert close to him, a yellow pudding with a red, indefinable sauce. He wolfed it down without tasting it as he remembered Lauro and his odd words of farewell. 'Probably we won't see each other again.' "Gotta go, Benno", he said, shoving back his chair. "See you later."

He went straight into the hall, crossing the floor, leading to their cells. Lauro's door was closed. Alessandro listened but there was silence. He knocked at the iron door. Since nobody answered he opened it. The hinges creaked and Alessandro was momentarily blinded by the sunbeams streaming through the small, grated window set high into the wall. He blinked. It took some seconds before the information sunk in. Lauro was hanging limply from the grate, his checked bed clothes wrapped around his neck. Alessandro emitted a cry and hurried to him. He lifted his legs, dangling a few centimetre above the ground and tried to pull him down, but it wouldn't work. Desperate he searched for the stool, dragged it close and stepped upon it. He fumbled with the knot of the cloth and tried to unwrap it from Lauro's neck.

Lauro's body fell to the ground, Alessandro jumped down, patted his cheeks. Then he cried out for help.

"Here." Mario gave Alessandro a sheet of paper. "We've found this upon Lauro's table." Silently Alessandro read, then he put the paper back, still saying nothing. "How is he?" he asked.

"All right. A minute later and he would be dead. He used the time when every one was in the dining room." Tired Mario sat at the table and removed his glasses. He rubbed his eyes. "It throws a bad light upon the institution. It would had been the first suicide. It was an unforgivable mistake that this letter passed without reading. I would have told Lauro personally and he wouldn't be so distraught. Apparently I couldn't help him with all his problems."

"Who could have guessed it? What will you do now?"

"Send the police to his home. Arrest his father."

Alessandro nodded. Surely. No wonder Lauro didn't want to return home. And his kleptomania appeared now in a different light. A cry for attention and love. Perhaps he would now find real help. "Do you think this was the reason his brother committed suicide?"

Mario nodded. "Of course. Abuse by the father for years is reason enough for a kid who isn't able to talk about the unspeakable. Lauro feared to return to that hell. And he wasn't strong enough to live a life on the streets as Benno did. And the mother? Denied it. Closed her eyes. Did you know that Lauro has a little sister?"

Alessandro shook his head as shock washed over him. "Sometimes I wish there was the death penalty. He deserves it by all means."

Mario quickly took Alessandro hand, laying clenched to a fist upon the table. "You mustn't. The death penalty is barbaric. We can't do the same. We can't become equal to inhumanity. He will get his punishment."

"This can't be punished", Alessandro objected quietly. "There's no real punishment for a destroyed soul."

"It will heal. Time heals everything."

"That's a lie. Some wounds never heal."

Mario sighed. "At least he was rescued. And when he's able to give testimony his father will vanish into jail for a long time. About the mother, I'm not sure. It will be hard to prove she knew about it all the time."

Alessandro sighed as well.

"How are you doing?" Mario asked.

Alessandro had never told him about his problems with Tito Boni. He didn't want to appear as a weakling, complaining about problems he was able to solve himself. "All right", he said. "Twelve months to go."

"How's Luca?"

“Found another bed comrade."

Mario watched him sharply. "How do you feel about that?"

Alessandro moaned unnerved. "Stop that compassionate blathering, Mario. You certainly know I feel like shit. I sit here and can't do anything about it."

"What will you do when you are out?" Mario asked calmly.

Alessandro leaned forward. "If I wasn't here there wouldn't be another comrade for Luca", he hissed. "And all this because a stupid judge thought that the life of a swine is more important than the life of my boyfriend."

Mario raised his brows. "You mustn't see it that way. When you were delivered here you were convinced that you deserved your punishment. You killed another human. Wasn't that your words?"

"Might be. I've changed my opinion."

"Alessandro", Mario said. "Don't lose yourself. You will get out of here. Soon. You can return to your normal life. And your study is going well, isn't it. You can realize your dream. That's so much more than all the others have here."

Alessandro said nothing. He stared gloomily into nowhere.

______________________

 

8

______________________

 

Luca spent the holidays with Raffaele, Giano and Tino at Forte dei Marmi. It wasn't the same as the summer he had spent there with Sandro. Sitting under a sun shade on the beach, he wistfully stared at the come and go of the waves. He wished Rosso was there, but he was with Carolina somewhere else. Well, not that he didn't feel happy for his friend, but he missed his cheerful being. Raffaele was in some sense a substitute, but he wasn't the same, familiar buddy Luca had known since his childhood. Instead he wrote long letters to Alessandro, almost every day. Even if their relationship seemed to have cooled down, for Luca it was an emotional desire to share his feelings.

"Amore,

How's it going? I must admit, I miss my work. For me it's hell to know the workshop is closed during August and I don't have anything to keep me busy, except writing to you. My brother Giano and Tino are playing volleyball on the beach and I sit here and watch them. OK, Raffaele is laying next to me in the sun - in case you are wondering.

You wrote that Lauro's father has been held in custody, being accused of The abuse of his sons. Will Lauro give testimony?

I lately received a postcard from Tristano who's with Vito in Austria. Lots of snow-covered mountains there. I'm so glad they do so well together after all that has happened to Tris. I guess he's now much more on the settled side, with no glances aside if you know what I mean. Tris has by the way decided to move into Vito's flat rather than to return home to his parents. Of course he needed a reason, so he told his parents Vito needed a roomie and that it would be him. Vito is a little pissed at Tris because he didn't tell the truth since this was the right time to do it. I guess I need to help him out of his dilemma. At least my parents turned out to be cool about it."

Luca stopped writing. Glancing at Raffaele's tanned back he suddenly didn't know what to write. He couldn't speak about his emotions. He was unable to put them into words and write them down. So, he put the letter aside and took his sketch pad and a pencil and made a sketch of Raffaele, lying upon his belly in the sand. His fingers itched to work on his stones. Over the years he had become used to this artful work and Coppo had shown him how to carve a ring. During their work together Luca had learned a bit about the meaning of stones. Coppo taught him that the Lapis Lazuli for instance is said to be associated with self-confidence, truthfulness, openness and inner tranquillity. For the ancient Egyptians, this stone was a favourite stone for amulets and ornaments such as scarabs; it was also used by the Assyrians and Babylonians for seals. The Romans believed that the Lapis Lazuli was a powerful aphrodisiac. It was the ancient stone of mental and psychological health and therefore just the right stone for Alessandro.

Luca's inlay works had found a place in the exhibition of the first works of the apprentices and his father Niccolò had burst with pride.

Raffaele turned and squinted against the sun. The bulge in his tiny trunks had expanded, but he did nothing to adjust it. Luca felt a twinge in his stomach and a stir in his short, white pants. Raffaele was alluring and he knew how to play the game. "What are you doing? Sketching me again?" he now asked, raising his upper body, protecting it with his elbows. He stretched his body luxuriously and grinned shamelessly. He knew that girls were watching him whenever he strutted along the beach.

Luca grinned back. Then he put his pad away, rose and pulled Raffaele up. "Who's going to be the first in the water", he shouted and started to run into the sea, Raffaele at his heels. They scuffled like two puppies in the water, splashing and dunking each other until Raffaele's mouth found Luca's. Pulling his shorts down under water, he fondled Luca's erection until Luca screamed for mercy. "Come out", Raffaele laughed, "we're going home for a nap." The sparkle in his black eyes promised more than a nap. "I'll suffer the hell and walk out with a hard-on, honey", Luca said, laughing himself.

With a sardonic grin Raffaele clutched Luca's penis and rubbed it up and down until Luca couldn't help it anymore and blasted into Raffaele's hand. The white drops were carried away by the water. "Madonna!" Luca gasped.

"Your turn." Raffaele paddled with Luca in tow to the shore. He still had a hard-on, but didn't care. Hastily they grabbed their stuff and vanished to their hotel.

"Well, I'm enjoying the holidays nonetheless",Luca continued his letter later. Raffaele was sleeping next to his side. "But I look forward to my next visit. Be careful with Mario. I still don't grasp why he's so careless to risk his job. Is he in love with you?"

Luca halted once more. Alessandro must think that Luca didn't care about him anymore since he so freely and without bitterness talked about the man who was fucking Luca's boyfriend. It did hurt. But Luca couldn't help it. He wasn't in the position to appear hurt. Alessandro and Luca - that seemed to be over. And it was nobody's fault.

"What will happen when you are released? Will he still be your boyfriend then? How do you feel about it?

Let me know about your next visitor's day.

Love,

Luca"

Raffaele blinked sleep from his eyes. "What are you writing all the time?" he asked and tried to peer at the paper sheet. "I thought you've got a new boyfriend and he as well." He leaned over and nibbled at Luca's neck "And then we'll stay together."

For a moment Luca couldn't breath. Was this the truth? He liked the careless, cheerful Raffaele, but his serious core longed for a pendant. Luca was smitten by the enigmatic, dark and wild Alessandro Gondi. He couldn't help it. Even if it made him unhappy. "What if you fall for another?" Luca asked, nonetheless enjoying Raffaele's tender bites. "So, don't promise me anything."

Raffaele peered into Luca's face. "It'll never work with us as long as you carry your chain."

Luca automatically clutched the Gondi-cross. As long as he wore it, there was hope that Alessandro would return to him one day. Maybe.

"Will you wait all this time for him?" Raffaele pushed away the bed covers and sat in front of Luca. Gently he massaged Luca's shoulders. "You said that Alessandro isn't sure whether to return to you. And you complain all the time that he's changed. He isn't the old person."

"And then I should dump him? You forget that all this that he's got to go through he did for me. I can't cut him out of my life."

"Rubbish", Raffaele objected. "He did it only for himself. The Alessandro Gondi I know was selfish and useless and a pain in the ass. Were you really able to change him? Don't you think you let him appear as the glamorous knight on the white horse coming to your rescue? You weren't in deadly danger. Alessandro fought because he wanted to. He was pissed that someone had taken away what belonged to him."

Luca stared disbelieving into Raffaele's face. "You can't mean what you've just said. You're just jealous. You want me to dump him." Furious Luca pushed Raffaele's hands away and jumped out of the bed.

"I'm sorry", Raffaele said immediately, following Luca's naked body into the bathroom. "I don't want to lose you."

Luca, standing at the toilet, pissing, turned and hissed "You don't want to lose me and so you try to knock Sandro in front of me. Sandro was never selfish, he did so much for me, and..." he fell silent.

"What did he ever do for you?" Raffaele snorted displeased. "Bought you a designer-suit? Invited you to the Opera? Booked an apartment at the Seaside? Lent you his Gondi-cross?"

Luca turned furious. "What on earth do you expect? That he bought me a rocket and a place upon the moon? What proof do you need when you love someone? I didn't ask for all of that. I'm happy when he's with me." He hurriedly passed Raffaele and searched for his shorts that he had dropped somewhere. The dishevelled bed was witness of the hour passed, filled with sex and lust.

"He said he loved you?" Raffaele had followed him, standing now stark naked with folded arms, watching Luca hopping on one leg, trying to pull up his white shorts. Then he stepped closer. "Stop that. Those shorts are wet."

Luca flopped upon the bed and dropped his head. "I don't know what to do", he said after a while. When he sensed Raffaele kneeling in front of him, he lifted his head. "Can you be sure of somebody? I can't trust. First you're happy, then your boyfriend's looking for somebody else. You'll do it too one day. So, why make a commitment anyway. It only hurts."

"And therefore we should use the time and not shout at each other. Come on, get new trunks and we'll go to the beach."

 

* * *

Luca was glad when the Opificio opened again. He got up early, and returned home late. Alone with nobody's help he cleaned the Palazzo Gondi, removed the dust and dirt that had gathered over months of not using some of the rooms and furniture, swabbing the boards and floors and even the windows. He needed something to do. Raffaele was much too lazy to do the housework and excused himself by saying that he'd always had a housekeeper.

One day in late September Tristano appeared in the kitchen of Palazzo Gondi with two filled bags from the grocery shop. Luca saw some stalks of leeks and two bushes of herbs. "Wow", he said. "Don't say you've come to cook for me."

Tristano gave him a kiss on the lips and heaved the bags upon the kitchen table. "Surely. You've lost five kilos at least since I don't care for you anymore."

Luca eyed him suspiciously. "Have you had a row with Vito?"

Tristano turned "Huh? Why should I? Vito's got patrol duty the whole night. And since I've got something to celebrate I thought to celebrate with you." He kissed Luca's nose who stood dumbfounded at first, then his excitement grew.

"You've got olive oil and sherry vinegar?" Tristano asked, plundering his bags. Green asparagus appeared, shallots, a bunch of blue and green grapes, a little package with goat cheese and a wrapped package from the fish market. "Scallops", Tristano explained. "They're delicious with the asparagus. But first the salad."

Luca's heart pounded fast. He was so happy to have Tristano at his side that he could have jumped for joy. He had the herbs held under his nose and sniffed. "Marjoram and tarragon, right?" he said.

"Right."

"Naked Chef?"

Tristano nodded and swirled through the kitchen, pulling pans and plates, sorting spices and cutting the shallots. "You can wash the herbs and pluck the marjoram. The tarragon you can leave as it is."

Luca did as he was told, then cut the grapes into halves. "What have you to celebrate then?" he asked. Tristano put his finger over his lips. "I'll tell you later."

Luca decided, it was time for a bottle of wine from Gondi's wine cellar. When he returned, a delicious smell of fried asparagus, butter, leeks and herbs wafted through the kitchen. Tristano had already laid the table and placed the salad on extra plates. He was busy decorating the scallops on to the leeks and asparagus, scattering some lemon juice and fried marjoram above it, then he sat down. Luca uncorked the wine, filled the glasses and lifted his. "Now, what shall we toast to then?"

"To my coming out", Tristano said solemnly.

"Wow." Luca clinked his glass with Tristano's. "To your coming out."

They drank and smiled at each other. "I'm glad Raffaele isn't here", Tristano said. "I wanted to be alone with you." He snatched a bit of tarragon and goat cheese on his fork and ate. "I like him, but I don't want to share this with him. I owe you so much."

Luca locked eyes with Tristano, then he tried the salad and clicked his tongue. "Fantastico! I really missed your cooking."

"Eat as long as the scallops are hot."

They said nothing until the plates were almost empty. "You mustn't spend so much money on me", Luca said then, but when he saw Tristano's sparkling eyes he knew that sometimes giving was better than receiving. "Your parents are all right about your coming out? About Vito?"

Tristano nodded. "Absolutely cool. Well, more or less. Marianna, my stepmother, had sort of known it all the time, at least since I was beaten up at Sergio's." A momentary darkness clouded his face, before it lit up again. "What was I doing there if I wasn't gay?"

Luca beamed at him, devouring the last tarragon leaves and the last crumbs of the cheese.

"I only wish you were as happy as I am", Tristano said.

"I am", Luca said bravely enough, but Tristano felt this was a lie. He refilled the glasses and sat next to Luca. "You don't have to lie", he whispered. "You don't have to play the strong man. Not with me. We've gone through so many things together, remember? Have you broken up with Raffaele?"

"Not at all. He comes and goes. Takes what he needs and gives what I need. He's a good listener and I like him very much. But he's not Alessandro."

Tristano nodded. "I like him too."

Luca lifted his head from Tristano's shoulder and looked at him. "And you and Vito? Are you happy?"

"Sure. Haven't you noticed that the attacks on gays have completely ceased? He's got them all chucked out of town." Tristano grinned.

"Yeah, probably they gather at Poggibonsi now", Luca mumbled. It wasn't hard to read between Alessandro's lines that he was still harassed for being a fag. He feared that Sandro would lose his temper completely some day and he would get extra months on his sentence.

"Dante has won the prize for cutting the thinnest alabaster plate", Luca said. "Pappa told me today. He wants to give it to me as an inlay for an orchid."

Tristano was confused about this statement. "That's great, but what has it to do with Poggibonsi and Sandro? And you and Raffaele? I thought you were so much in love with Sandro." He brought a little space between him and Luca. "I mean, I thought Raffaele was just sort of a fill in. I can't say I do understand your actions, but I never chided you, right? Only you mustn't encourage Raffaele to fall in love with you when you want to be with Sandro again when he's out."

"You don't know how I've tried", Luca objected. "But Raffaele doesn't want to hear. What should I do?"

"I can't tell you what to do, Luca", Tristano continued their talk. Luca had pulled Tris' feet into his lap and slowly kneaded his friend's sock covered toes.

"I thought you and Sandro were the ideal pair, although", a wary look met Luca, "I'm always in great awe with Sandro. He has something that frightens me sometimes."

Luca smiled to himself. Tris was right; he had felt it too, but then, nobody knew Alessandro Gondi as well as Luca did. "He's very special", he said aloud, removing Tris' socks and continued his administering. "I don't want to cheat on him, but..."

"Your sex-drive is stronger?" Tristano ended the sentence.

"Yes. And I really like Raffaele. Probably I'm only the fill-in for him too, as much as he's my fill-in. Is this bad?"

Tristano groaned a bit. "Surely not." He sat upright and slid closer. Luca detected a leather band around his neck and conjured a stone from under his shirt. It was the hen's god he had found on the beach of the Tyhrennian Sea.

"My good luck charm", Tristano said. "Vito has given me the leather band. He says the stone has magical power, healing effects and is a charm against evil."

"Oh. I didn't know that." Luca bet that even Coppo didn't know about this strange stone. After all it wasn't precious. What if Tris had worn it earlier, would it have protected him against the rape? They shared a look, knowing what the other was thinking. "Do you still get nightmares?"

Tristano shook his head and looked at the empty wine-bottle. Luca rose and brought another from the fridge, standing in a corner.

"The Est! Est!! Est!!! tasted superb said Sergio", Tristano grinned when they clinked their glasses. "We emptied it when I had taken him home for the first night." He grinned mischievously before a shadow fluttered over his face. "I really went over the top those times."

"But why? Just because you had an affair with two guys at the same time? I guess it was pure pleasure for all of you."

Tristano agreed silently. "But the price was high." He emptied his glass and felt the alcohol force his pulse. "I was so desperate because I thought I wouldn't be able to bear the view of a naked man anymore." He hiccupped. "You know, when Vito touched me I was afraid. When he undressed I thought I would scream with fear, as the image of the guy opening his fly and zipper stuck in my mind. But somehow...", he hiccupped again, "somehow I wanted Vito more than anything. He never forced anything. How great for me that he's older."

"And wiser", Luca said and poured himself another glass. He felt the alcohol making his body relaxed and calm.

"Does Sandro know about us?" Tristano asked. His voice slurred a bit.

"Yes", Luca answered sleepily. "Why don't you stay here?"

"He knows?" Tristano asked with wide open eyes. "So what did he say then?"

"Nothing." Luca rose and held out his arm. "Come, I'm tired."

Tristano looked perplexed, then he t automatically took Luca's hand.

"I mean, he said not much", Luca said. "If he was fancy-free he probably have seduced you."

"Ha!" Tristano laughed. Then he tried to ponder the consequences if he stayed there with Luca. Vito wouldn't come home before eight in the morning.

"So, are you happy with Vito?" Luca asked when they lay in bed with only their pants on.

"Yes", Tristano answered and slid closer to Luca's body until they lay close like two puppets in a basket. Luca smiled. The next minute he entered dreamland.

A noise woke Luca. He blinked. Dawn swept through the curtains. He recognized a dark figure standing in the middle of the room. For a tiny moment he thought Alessandro had returned but then he saw the familiar features of Raffaele. "What are you doing here?" Luca whispered, darting a glance to the sleeping Tristano at his side.

Raffaele stepped closer. "I see you've refreshed your old memories with him?" he said reproachfully.

"And you? You smell of another guy too. Had a good fuck?"

Tristano opened his eyes and looked confused.

"You're not in the position to talk to me like that", Raffaele snapped.

"What?" Luca jumped out of bed. "And where are you coming from now? You smell of alcohol and smoke. Who did you pick up? And then you have the cheek to show up here in the middle of the night to crawl into my bed?"

Tristano had pulled the cover up to his chest and followed the quarrel in awe. He flinched when Raffaele banged the door behind him. He heard him rumble down the stairs.

Luca sighed and bent his head. Then he felt Tristano embracing him from behind. "I'm sorry", he said.

"Don't worry, he will return. As always." Luca leaned against Tristano's body. "It would be better if he never returned. It's no use anyway."

Tristano's mobile played its melody. Vito announced his coming. "Shit", Tristano said after he cut the line. "Have to hurry. See you in two hours at the Opificio."

Luca said nothing. He looked depressed. Tristano went to his friend and embraced him once more. It felt so good. Briefly he remembered the lustful night they had shared.

Before Luca could feel his growing excitement Tristano loosened his body and kissed Luca's cheek. "See you later." He gathered his clothes and vanished through the door.

* * * * *

It happened shortly before Christmas. Alessandro had exactly seven months to go when the matter escalated.

"Did you hear what they've done with the father of the little weakling?"

Alessandro pricked up his ears while he was busy hemming button holes on a leather jacket. He floored the pedal of the sewing machine and pretended to be absorbed in his work. But Zorro's croaking voice couldn't be missed.

"Nope, what did they do?"

"You know what happens to kid fuckers." For a brief moment, Zorro's and Alessandro's eyes met.

"I thought he was in solitary confinement?" Pietro Zardi leaned over and cursed. The thread was torn off again.

"He was. But it didn't pay off. They ripped his arse."

Zorro talked more to Alessandro than to Pietro, blinking his eyes disbelievingly.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"It's that what I like to do with Gondi, to give him what he deserves." Tito Boni's deep voice hummed. He stared openly at Alessandro who stared back, ruining the button hole. Alessandro stopped the machine and unpicked the seam with a tiny scissors. "Look at this", Tito gloated, "the perfect housewife, enjoying this sissy-work."

Alessandro breathed slowly in and out.

"What do you mean by that?" Pietro repeated the question.

"Madonna, don't be so stupid", Boni said. "They fucked him almost to death. Paying back what he did to his sons, and he deserved every single cock up his arse."

Pietro and Zorro laughed. The guard was passing them. Alessandro was still breathing.

"What do you think, Gondi", Tito Boni shouted over his table. "Do you think every arsefucker deserves this?"

In and out, Alessandro thought. Breath in and out as Mario had taught him. And say nothing.

"Ey, Gondi! Fallen asleep or have you pissed your pants with fear?"

In and out. Slowly. Though Alessandro felt hate boiling up. The stick of the guard banged upon Boni's table. "Stop blathering", he snarled. "And what's with you?" he bent towards Pietro Zardi. Pietro had tried in vain to fix his thread. While the tailor master fixed a new thread on Pietro's sewing machine, Alessandro pondered about Lauro's father. He hadn't heard about that, nor Mario had told him. Alessandro's good deed of rescuing Lauro when he tried to commit suicide, had helped Alessandro win a few credit points from the director. For Lauro himself it was a chance to pour out his heart. He wasn't mad with Alessandro because he had saved his life. It was as if a dam had been broken, Alessandro received letters from Lauro, living now in a supervised flat-share since he had been placed as a ward of court, away from his mother. His sister had been taken by an aunt. Lauro was proud that he hadn't shoplifted a single piece since he'd been out of prison. And Alessandro was proud too, Lauro had given testimony against his father even if it did arouse painful memories.

Alessandro considered at least to send him his monthly salary which he got for this work.

"He saved the weakling", Zorro started again. "I bet he needed him for his shit stabbing. Gondi", he peered over the table, "did you need him? I mean, he was well ridden up, wasn't he?"

Alessandro bit his lips until he tasted blood. In and out, he repeated like a Mantra. He sensed the stares though and wished the day was over.

Franco wrote in his letters that Claudio and Enrico - both once bed comrades of Leoni - had quarreled about who was the baby's father. Apparently Claudio had been so stupid as to tell Enrico about his suspicions. Franco - being always the reasonable lad, had warned him to take a test, because if this got into the wrong hands, Alessandro could lose everything to the Dominican monks. Alessandro sighed. Another problem. The best would really be if Leoni would vanish from Firenze together with her son. Untraceable. Arrigo could handle that. Unfortunately Arrigo's wife was besotted by little Matteo and would rather die than to give away him voluntarily.

Alessandro took the next jacket and worked as carefully as he did before. When he looked up, he saw Zorro's and Boni's mouth moving without hearing them. They all could get lost. "Do you know now how to spell motherfucker?" Alessandro asked pretty loudly to over the droning rattle of the sewing machines.

Pietro Zardi made a stupid face, then it reddened. With shame, Alessandro hoped. He grinned. "Can you write down your first words like school and apprenticeship?" Alessandro leaned over. "Or kleptomaniac?"

Zardi jumped up from his stool, saved by the ringing of the alarm bell, indicating that the working day was over. No one noticed that Alessandro had received a heavy punch from Tito Boni directly into his solar plexus. Alessandro collapsed, fell to the ground and gasped for breath.

"What's the matter here?" The guard came rushing, bending over Alessandro.

"Don't know", Boni said innocently. "One minute he was standing happily as a fish in the water, the next he was laying on the ground."

The guard pushed Boni away and helped Alessandro up. "Bad stomach?" he asked. Alessandro gritted his teeth and nodded. Then he doubled over and threw up, directly onto Tito Boni's shoes. "Wooeeiiiiii", Boni shouted and jumped back. "You pig! You'll clean that up!"

The guard shoved Boni away. "Clean up your own mess", he snarled. "Out you are. And you", turning to Alessandro, "go to the kitchen and clean away this shit."

Alessandro stared, wiping his mouth. Then he did what he was told.

His stomach hurt until it was time for dinner. Benno waited for him as always and looked concerned when he saw Alessandro's greenish face. Thankful and embarrassed at the same time he also gobbled up Alessandro's plate. "Visit the doc if you aren't feel well", he munched.

"Perhaps", Alessandro answered monosyllabic. He glanced at Tito Boni's table and heard the giggling.

"Have you heard about Lauro's father?" he asked Benno who nodded. "Yes, visitors spread the news, probably inside information. I hope he doesn't survive."

Alessandro flinched inwardly. For a second he thought of Tristano. What if he had to met Tristano's rapists here at Poggibonsi? Suddenly a shower ran over his head into his collar, blinding his sight. Alessandro tasted luke-warm Minestrone.

"Oh, sorry" he heard from behind his back. Zorro.

Alessandro heard the laughter. Felt the stares from the others. The oily vegetable soup dripped slowly into his lap. Alessandro's mind blanked out. He jumped up, his chair crashed to the ground, as he whirled around and threw himself upon Zorro and Zardi at the same time. He knocked them over with the weight of his body. Now all the hours at the gym would pay off.

Benno would tell him later that he had yelled like a bull and that he had clutched a blunt knife he had grabbed from one of the tables. In a blink of an eye a circle of excited shouting boys was watching the fight, until the shrill whistle of the guard summoned other guards and they were separated.

Mario looked disappointedly at him. All four had been brought to his room where Mario waited together with the social worker Emilio. Mario knew very well that it was no use to interrogate the boys about what was going on. The quarrels and fights within the group he knew of all too well. That Alessandro Gondi's pride never allowed him to talk openly about his problems Mario was also aware of. "I'm sorry", he said, "but I have to report this. You'll get a warning in your file. It's the decision of the prison's director what to do with you. You can go now." A small nod indicated Emilio to accompany the boys out.

"Alessandro? One word please."

Alessandro met Tito Boni's acid look. "You're copped, Gondi", he hissed dangerously low. A sly glance met Mario.

Alessandro turned slowly. "That's it", he said. "You'll lose your job."

Mario stared mutely at Alessandro's greasy hair stubble. Some pieces of carrots stuck on his cheek and he had slices of zucchini on his shirt. It smelled rancid. "Go for a shower", Mario said.

"You're joking. No way I'll go shower now." When Mario blinked incomprehensibly, Alessandro said bitterly "You've got no idea what's going on here, do you."

"I have", Mario said, stepping closer. "I would know more if you'd open your mouth and talk to me. Don't be so haughty, damn you. You noble people always think you can solve any problems your own way." He stepped even closer. "This is not the life outside, Alessandro. Here there are different rules. How can we help such boys as Boni when we haven't control over what's going on within the group?"

"Then open your eyes and stop thinking about your cock! You thought to help me when you was fucking with me, yes? You're so blinded." He stepped back, turning, but Mario held his shoulders firmly. "I thought you felt something for me", he hissed. "I thought there was more than solely physical relief." He forced Alessandro's body close to him and pressed his lips upon Alessandro's. That moment the door opened and Emilio returned, rooted to the spot when he saw Mario and Alessandro. With shock on his face he closed the door from the outside.

"Merry Christmas, Luca,

I hope you'll have a great time. I hate to tell you this, but my stay here at the institution has been extended by four months. Mario and me have been caught. Boni's and Zorro's testimony found a friendly ear with the director. The social worker interrogated us and I could only stop him from accusing Mario of fornication with dependents because I did it voluntarily. Nonetheless he's suspended and has to look for another job. Because of the fight I had with Zorro, Zardi and Boni I've got four months in addition to my sentence. The others have been sent to another institution. At least that is good news. Perhaps I'll have a better time now.

Benno was released this morning.

Still eight months to go. Don't wait for me, Luca. Enjoy life with Raffaele. Although I'd be happy to hear from you from time to time.

Alessandro"

On Christmas Eve Luca entered the visitor's room. He had decided to drive to Poggibonsi as soon as he had received the letter. He couldn't leave Alessandro without a word. He had spent all of his earnings on his family and the rest on Alessandro. It wasn't a difficult decision what to give his boyfriend for Christmas for Alessandro needed everything. He had never thought that the young man with the noble upbringing would enjoy so much simple underwear, new shoes and jeans, not to mention soap and toothpaste. More than anything he yearned to fall into Alessandro's arms when he saw him, but he had to restrain himself and not embarrass Alessandro more. Yes, it was a relief that Boni, Zorro and Zardi had been removed from Poggibonsi. Alessandro's hair had grown again and short curls covered his skull. He beamed.

"I didn't expect you to come." They sat in their usual corner and Alessandro sorted his gifts. Luca hadn't made the effort to wrap them because he would never have passed the guard with wrapped parcels.

"I've got nothing for you", Alessandro said, eyeing socks, pants and other clothes.

"This is from Leoni", Luca said, "books I suppose."

"Great. Thanks so much for all this. I've got parcels already from Franco and my uncle. And your brother Giano sent me cigarettes and more books I need for my study."

Luca smiled at him. "I know. He's now doing his block practice in a hospital. Tino's almost finished his study. He wants to go to Africa for some months."

"Oh. Another parting?"

"Perhaps. But they will survive a couple of months apart, won't they?" Luca looked attentively into Alessandro's blue eyes. He looked much better. Healthier. The years of training at the gym had made him muscular in a very smooth way. Luca loved it. "Do you miss Mario?" he asked.

"He comes from time to time to visit us. He's found another job as a social worker, caring for kids living on the streets. Though there's not much to do in this little town Poggibonsi, so he looked for a job at Siena."

"But do you miss him?" Luca insisted.

"I do. But not in the way you mean. Tell me you what have planned for Christmas. Going out with Raffaele?"

Raffaele would spend the evening with his parents at Bellosguardo, Luca knew. As he would spend the holidays with Giano and his parents.

"Dante and Marcello moved out", he said instead of give an answer.

"That's a nice surprise for you."

Luca nodded. Although... He produced a folded letter and put it upon the table. "From Dante and Marcello", he said.

Alessandro stared. "A letter? From your brothers? For me?"

Luca nodded. "They didn't say anything."

"Have you read it?"

"Yes."

Alessandro gave him a long glance. "Don't say they want to apologize."

"Sandro..." Luca started slowly. "What are you going to do? Throw it away? Please give them a chance." He felt the little parcel in his trouser pocket and hesitated whether to give it to Alessandro or not. He was very unsure.

"Lauro wrote." Alessandro changed the topic, still eyeing the letter laying on the table top, "his father's doing better. I really want to stay in contact with him. He's still at Gubbio in the flat-share."

"Is he gay?" Luca asked instantly.

Alessandro stared at him. "I don't think so", he said. "I never thought about that." Another long glance. It hurt more than Alessandro wanted to admit to himself, seeing his boyfriend so close and not being able to kiss him, nor have sex with him. His body - once in daily uproar - had fallen asleep. He had stopped jerking off a long time ago. Sometimes he felt like an old man with no other desire than to stretch out in his bed after a long day and to fall asleep and to dream of nothing. Nonetheless there was a tiny remnant of the old, horny Alessandro Gondi that only had to be awoken by a tender hand. "How's Raffaele?" he repeated his question.

"Fine", Luca said not very enthusiastic. He looked at his watch. "Gotta go, Sandro. Mamma is cooking for the whole day and I don't want to be late." He stared at the small, decorated Christmas tree standing in a corner. The room was filled with chattering. Heaps of Christmas gifts covered the tables. Coffee scent hung in the air.

Alessandro nodded. "All right. Thanks for coming."

When Luca rose he quickly pulled out the little parcel from his pocket and pressed it into Alessandro's palm. "Merry Christmas." He embraced Alessandro briefly.

When Luca had gone Alessandro unwrapped the tissue and stared at a ring. Lapis Lazuli. He took it with two fingers and held it in front of his eyes. Then he smiled.

"Alessandro,

A patient said to me 'In contrary to you I don't live in the stone age'. At the beginning I didn't understand. After the month at the AIDS-hospice I learnt how to say farewell. Today I know that we are what we are meant to be. My little brother will be better than I; that he was already better than we all put together I learnt when you went to jail and he was still talking about you as if you had just gone out to buy a package of cigarettes.

I can't express myself very well; I've always worked with my hands. I still can't understand. Everyone loves the one he likes to love. Perhaps I can accept because I learnt to tolerate it. I don't need to recount all those things that are spoken about homo's, you know them all. Today I'm ashamed for what I've done to Luca. After all, I'm responsible for where you are right now. There's no excuse for that.

Marcello thought it would be good to write you, if we are too cowardly to visit you. I'm not sorry to see Riefoli go, but his death is still monstrous. Probably you will have a good laugh about my words, me, the macho-hetero man, or you'll throw this letter into the loo. I can't help it. The most important thing is that you to know that Luca has nothing to fear. He doesn't want to have anything to do with us. Even this I have to accept.

Dante Montori"

Alessandro dropped the letter upon the bedcover before he leaned his head against the cool wall of his cell. Was this an apology? In some cases it was. Did it mean that finally Dante and Marcello realized that there existed more lifestyles on earth worth living than they were able to accept? Probably. Then all this had given something good in the end. And Raniero Riefoli hadn't died in vain. A bitter smile appeared on Alessandro's lips. A unnatural death was never something good. But it made Alessandro's life easier.

______________________

 

9

______________________

Another Spring. The hibiscus was blooming and the chestnut trees were showing their red candles. A whiff of sun-heated sage hung in the air.

Luca heard the blackbird at that early morning hour. He rubbed his eyes and turned his head. Raffaele was slumbering at his side, the bed cover pulled up under his chin while his back was bare. Furtively he stroked the violet-black hair from his forehead. Raffaele opened his eyes immediately and a smile curled his lips. "Ciao, carino", he mumbled and stretched out his arm to pull Luca closer. "Got to get up?"

Luca nodded. His fingers itched to finish the table top he was working on. It was his masterpiece and the final thing he would make as an apprentice. It was almost done and the masters considered it the best work of his group. Even Tristano couldn't hold a candle to him, although he had specialised in stone-painting, another Art of working the stones.

"And what are you up to?"

"Don't know", Raffaele yawned. "It's still so early."

"Right." Luca scrambled out of bed and tapped over to the bathroom. A minute later he felt the glass sliding doors of the shower open and Raffaele's body pressed itself against his back. He felt his erection poking his buttocks. Luca pushed back, feeling the penis rubbing over his cleft while Raffaele's hand slipped around his waist and caressed Luca's private parts. Luca closed his eyes and enjoyed the familiar feeling of losing himself.

Luca searched for the thin, white alabaster slice Dante had given him and mixed the pure colour with crimson - a corneal for this sake. He examined the bulbs with their long, straight stems at the end; the linear leaves, light green made from malachite stone. And at last the iris, the symbol of Florence, a magnificent flower which had a magical significance in all world cultures from Tibet to ancient Egypt. The strong, blue-violet colour emphasised the immaculate whiteness of the lily - lapis lazuli and amethyst, and yellow heliodor for the calyx.

Luca lent back in his chair. The inlay work was finished. It carried everything that Luca's relationship with Alessandro had contained: the joy of love and its abandonment. Melancholy followed after death. Innocence that was ruled by the royal iris and at last borage to find back happiness in love. Firenze and Alessandro di Gondi-Lucertola, prince of the lilies and carrier of the iris of Florence. This was Luca's declaration of love.

He hid a small grin. Nobody would ever understand its meaning. Briefly he regretted that he hadn't inserted an emerald-green lizard, but that would had been too obvious.

Silently Coppo stepped behind Luca's chair and looked over his shoulder. "It's finished", he stated. Luca turned and looked into his teacher's face.

"Yes", he said.

Coppo pulled a chair next to Luca and sat down. He put on his half-moon spectacles and examined the work. "Outstanding." Coppo smiled. "I want to keep you at the Opificio. Not for the restoration work but for creation. Commission work for governments all over the world. What do you say?"

Luca reciprocated Coppo's smile.

In the afternoon everybody gathered at the Opificio delle Pietre Dure. The apprentices, the parents and friends. Tristano's parents had come as well as Vittorio, who had a day off. Luca's parents were present as well as Dante, Marcello and Rosso. Just Giano had to stay in Pisa, writing an exam.

The final examination works were presented and Luca received the first prize. Niccolò beamed over his whole face, Clarissa was close to tears. Rosso whooped and clapped his hands. It could have been the happiest day in Luca Montori's life so far if Alessandro had been there. Instead of that Raffaele joined the group when the celebration was almost over. Uninhibited he kissed Luca in front of all eyes, and yet Luca didn't feel too embarrassed. Not even when his eyes met Dante's. His brother came up to him and for a moment the old fear boiled up in his stomach. But Dante's face was calm, his eyes tried to be friendly.

"Congratulations, piccolino", he said huskily. "Three years apprenticeship is hard work. I tried it once, but would never be as good as you."

Marcello appeared behind Dante's back. "Congratulations from me too", he said and Luca saw honesty in his face.

Luca felt he had to say something, but he didn't know what exactly. Instead a warm feeling was streaming through his body.

"You certainly wish Alessandro was with you, don't you", Dante said reluctantly, glancing at Raffaele chattering with Tristano and Rosso. "Five months to go. Are you still waiting or have you decided to stay with him?" Dante's head nodded to Raffaele.

Luca had a sharp retort on his lips but he restrained himself. He didn't want to spoil the fragile flower of reconciliation growing between him and his brothers. "I still wait for him." In his thoughts he clutched the Gondi-cross around his neck.

* * *

Alessandro dropped his bag and stood still. He tipped his head back and watched the sky. Violet blue. Billowing clouds. He stood there and breathed. Freedom. Slowly he lifted his arms and turned himself around. Freedom.

Arms folded in front of his chest, Mario stood in the door frame and watched Alessandro di Gondi-Lucertola leaving the place.

Neither Luca nor any of his friends and family knew that Alessandro had been released early. Alessandro couldn't quite explain why he never told anyone, he just had a distinct feeling that this was the right way to do it. He needed time for himself. Feeling freedom. Leaving all this behind. Alone. Sort out his feelings. Sort out his ideas. Washing away dirt, harassment, loneliness. Luca couldn't help. When he returned to him he had to be another guy. Not the boy who was known in Florence as the prince of the lilies and not the boy he was known as in jail. He was now a man.

Taking the bus and train he traveled straight to Pisa, and booked a flight to New Zealand with his credit card. He knew that uncle Arrigo would know instantly that money had been withdrawn from his account, but that was all right. After a stop-over in Bangkok he stepped out forty eight hours later at the airport of Auckland.

It was close to Spring on the other side of the world.

* * *

"Luca? You've got post", Clarissa said when Luca came home from a visit to Rosso's. She gave him a letter that read 'air mail' and had a stamp from New Zealand showing a kiwi-bird. Luca turned it onto all sides but it didn't have a sender. He ripped it open and unfolded the thin sheets. Then he gasped.

"Gioia,

Auckland is heaven. Imagine, they still show the Lord of the Rings-trilogy that was made here and so I had the pleasure to watch all of it finally. I missed so much while I was in prison.

Ok. I have to hold my breath and tell you what happened. I've been released, not fled as you might feared. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I couldn't. I need time for myself. I don't want to see Florence and return to the old life I had. To me the farthest place from home is just far enough. In this case the other side of the world suited me just fine. I've found a job with a sheepshearer. This country is all nature - a good place for a guy who has had prison walls surrounding him with nothing except for the few patches of vegetable beds I used to care for. Perhaps this will now be to my fortune.

I have no plan. Life is rural and the people are friendly though a bit - strange 😉 Rural and everything that means.

I will return, but I can't say when. Raffaele will look after you, I'm sure. Give me a couple of months please. We'll stay in contact. Please don't write me back for I travel throughout the country. I carry your ring.

All my love,

Alessandro"

Luca sunk upon his bed. For ten minutes long he felt unbelievable disappointment. If it wasn't Sandro's utmost wish to return to Luca's arms what future had their love then? Why did he have to sort it out all alone by himself? Why wouldn't he seek help from Luca and his friends?

After another ten minutes he felt sadness. Then reason won the upper hand. Perhaps it was right what Sandro was doing. He needed distance. To return healed. Getting rid off the prison walls he carried with him.

The next thing Luca received was a parcel with a huge, strange formed sea shell, wrapped in a sheep's fleece. Other parcels followed with dream catchers, feathers, sand from the beach filled plastic bags, stones and shepherd's flutes.

Luca kept all these things at Palazzo Gondi and slowly they filled Alessandro's old room. He hung the fleece on the wall and the dream catcher next to the bed. Raffaele eyed them jealously. "You still wait for him? He'll never return."

"He will", was Luca's answer. Raffaele's nightly absences were growing. Luca knew he was losing him completely. He didn't mind. Stubbornly he held on to the dream, even during a long gap where he received neither a letter nor a parcel.

One day a postcard arrived from Hawaii.

"Tuesday, the 12th of February. San Miniato. High noon."

San Miniato

He is back. The prince of the lilies, returned as a man. The king of the lilies. He unwraps his scarf and pulls out a chain he wears around his neck. The lapis lazuli blue ring dangles from it. Slowly he opens the clasp and slips his middle finger through the ring. "It's time to wear it", he says.

Raffaele slips into my mind. He's gone. I haven't seen him for a while, except when I have heard from Tristano who met him on the dance floors of Florence, hunting for the next boy he can bewitch with his smile.

Alessandro is so much more. He has grown up without losing his charm. Without losing the enigmatic wildness, shimmering in his eyes. He has seen so many things. And we have gone through so many things.

He stretches out his hand and I take it.

Palazzo Gondi has changed. Sandro walks from wall to wall, looking at the stuff gathered here, his shells, the furs, the flutes, the stones, the dried and pressed flowers while I remove the ashes in the fire and stir the embers. "Tomorrow I want to go to the Opificio to look at your work, maestro", he says with a mocking tone in his voice. His smile enchants me like it did the first day we met.

"I'm far from being a maestro."

Alessandro pulls off his jacket. The sun sinks into a rosy-orange bed. The bells of the cathedral announce the sixth hour.

"You're the maestro of my heart."

"Principe del mio cuore", I say.

I watch him dropping his boots, socks, pullover. His body has filled out with muscles and sinews and shimmers with a bronze tone.

I almost sob and feel my heart beat in my throat. But there's nothing to fear. The familiar scent is back. A scent of milk shortly before it would boil over, oozing innocence. It makes me feel at home. My body learns back the familiar feel of his skin, pressing against him when he gently pushes me upon the bed. His lips are there where they belong , following my body. I suppress the questions about what he had done in New Zealand. How many one-night-stands he had. If any. I feel, this is more. In synchronicity our bodies react and pour and there it is: my all too seriousness vanishes like haze in the mid-morning and all that is left is the seventeen year old boy.

Here, at the end of all, I sense we have done the right thing. He needed to find himself back. And it was worth the wait.

EPILOGUE

Blackbirds announced the dawn. Alessandro opened his eyes and for a brief moment didn't know where he was. Jet lag pinned him to the bed. It was a long ride from the other side of the world. Then he heard breathing beside him and stirred. Propping his elbow he looked into Luca's face. He had grown up. Become a man. The blond hair was a shade darker than he remembered, but the skin was soft and clean. A very slight shade of a morning beard surrounded his chin. His shoulders were broader and lithe muscles stood out beneath the skin.

Alessandro traced a finger down the chest and encircled his navel. Moist peach. Luca's skin reacted in his sleep. He was still ticklish, Alessandro thought. A grin appeared on his face. He vanished under the bed cover and did what he had dreamt of for so many years. Hearing Luca's familiar, pearly laughter he was sent back into the time when their relationship was at the beginning. Luca disheveled Alessandro's hair as he pulled back the cover, and gave a disappointed moan when Alessandro stopped, slid up over Luca's body and looked straight into his face. It was easy. Alessandro felt as light as a bird, enjoying the warmth of Luca's body. "Principe del mio cuore", he said again.

Luca blinked. Alessandro played with his erection. Had he ever been away? Had he feared Sandro's return could lead to more disaster and sadness? To loneliness and abandonment? His fears were all wrong. Alessandro wasn't the same, but he was a new man to him, yet familiar in the core. The angle had shifted a tiny, but significant bit.

Something loosened up within Luca's being. He pulled Alessandro's head closer, embraced his lips with his mouth, knocked him over on to his back and lay between Alessandro's widely spread legs. "I never allowed Mario to enter me", Alessandro whispered huskily.

Luca smiled sardonically.

"Hungry?" Alessandro asked. "I'm starving. Let's celebrate later. For years you made my mouth water with Tristano's cooking skills. What about a meeting with the Naked Chef junior, eh?"

Luca laughed and pushed Alessandro from his body. Tristano, he thought lovingly. He couldn't imagine him being happier with Vito than Luca was right now. He would bring them all together: Rosso, still happy with Carolina, and Giano, working at his doctorate and waiting for Tino to return from the Sudan. Franco of course and Claudio who had both finished their study in Pisa. Franco had returned to Venice and had become engaged straight away in one of the museums where he sorted broken mosaic-stones. Surely he had to start from the bottom to make a career. He could even invite Sergio and Alfredo, the ex-callboys; the contact with them had never been broken off, Tris felt too obliged. It would be a party that would shake the old walls of Palazzo Gondi.

Luca sensed Sandro's waiting eyes. With a little sigh he fell into his arms, resting his head upon Alessandro's collarbone, feeling his hands stroking over his arms and back. He was amazed that these familiar feelings returned as if the distance of almost four years had never happened. Or was there a slight unease? A little, unknown spot on Sandro's soul, waiting for Luca to explore? Of course they never could go on from where they had left off.

Luca rose and looked straight and seriously into Alessandro's blue eyes. The expression in there had changed. Deepened. A focus of the events. "You're a challenge, you know", Luca said. "Tonight it was as if you'd never been away. Despite your different look", he winked.

"Different?" Alessandro laughed. "Even better than before I hope!"

Luca grinned. "Sure you do." It wasn't easy to meet as men when you had parted as boys. "But there's something special for me to explore." Cautiously he tapped on Alessandro's chest. His eyes followed his hand. The chest had broadened and the waist was smaller; Luca sensed muscles below the deep tanned skin. It felt so right, so exciting, so new.

"You've grown up as well, carino", he heard Alessandro whispering into his ear and felt his hand roaming over his body, stroking his butt cheeks, touching his penis lightly, cupping his balls. "I dreamt every night of you down under, but I had to clear up something with myself."

Luca nodded and gave himself to Alessandro's hands. Then he decided to skip his day at work. Coppo would be all too understanding. Luca hesitated to move; he didn't want to break the magic of their closeness. Alessandro was a new man, that was for sure. Gone was the all too cocky, wilful, noble boy who looked down on others. Gone was the wildness in his eyes, but Luca couldn't be sure if he was just a tamed lion sitting behind the bars of his cage. In slow motion Luca lifted his arm and stroked over Alessandro's face, felt the unfamiliar, light stubble on his cheeks, down his neckline to his shoulder, gripping the upper arm. Alessandro seemed to enjoy the touch. "You aren't curious what I had to clear with myself?" he asked, lifting Luca's chin, locking eyes with his.

"I can imagine what you had to clear up. To get rid off the prison walls." A mocking glance into Alessandro's face. "And probably count the one-night-stands you had." Surprisingly Luca felt no pain when he said this. This was Sandro's private matter and had nothing to do with himself.

Alessandro laughed relieved. "I'm happy you aren't cross with me." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "There was this extraordinarily sexy shepherd's boy, you know..." He winked.

Luca conjured up pictures of a hay stable in his inner eye, a coupling pair in the prickling hay, watched by a flock of sheep. He had to grin. "The shepherd's flute there, is that from him?"

Alessandro nodded, eyeing the exhibits hanging on the wall. "A Farewell gift."

"And then?" Slowly Luca had fun listening to Sandro's tale of conquests, and surprisingly it made him horny. "How many lovers did you have, travelling on the other side of the world?" he asked grinning.

"And you?" Alessandro objected playfully. "What was Raffaele like? And were there others too? Come on! I know the guys are crazy for you." Unexpectedly he pulled at Luca's arm and scrambled with him out of the bed, dragging him into the bathroom where he placed himself and Luca in front of the large mirror. Luca saw his own half hard-on swaying and laughed out loud. Alessandro joined in his laughter. "You don't know how much I missed your laughter, amore", he whispered into Luca's ear. His voice made Luca's cock spring upright; he wriggled in Alessandro's arms until he faced him. "I feel seventeen again", he said.

"While you look like eighteen already!" Alessandro smirked, slapping Luca's butt cheeks. "You've grown." His palm embraced Luca's penis. "There."

Luca looked down at Alessandro's expanding length. "I bet your shepherd's boy was more than satisfied", he said. "Why not satisfy me too..?" He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Alessandro pushed him out of the bathroom into bed again.

At nine the first tourist's groups gathered in front of the Battistero, looking at Ghiberti's bronze and gilt entrance doors. The guides pretended cheerfulness they never felt. Too often they had repeated the same words. Alessandro valued them no look. He would become better. Not on the streets though. Alessandro had watched tourists too often, to not feel, with the knowledge he had, that this was just the proverbial throwing pearls in front of swines.

He took Luca's hand and passed the people speaking with so many languages. "Do you remember when Masolino visited Donatello's workshop, creating the "Habakkuk"?" Alessandro asked.

"Of course. Lorenzo Ghiberti was busy with these bronze doors at the same time." Luca pointed to the doors, protected with an iron grate.

"And do you remember the original plates of them swimming through the town because of the high water in 1966? These are only copies, albeit gilt as well."

Luca raised his brows. "Indeed? I didn't know that. Where are the original plates then?" He looked at the tourists, partly solemnly, partly bored looking at the masterpiece of art.

"In a vault of the cathedral's museum."

"Well." Luca's fingers caressed Alessandro's and he leaned his body at his boyfriends, "you won't tell this your tourist groups, will you."

"Don't think so. I'd like to offer my service to a specialized audience. People who know what I'm talking about." He winked. Alessandro had passed his exam as a certificated guide with an outstandingly good result. Florence simply couldn't afford to ignore Alessandro di Gondi-Lucertola, and a guide with a noble, ancient name was always an advantage.

A wind was blowing in their faces as they passed the unfriendly, brick stone façade of San Lorenzo, still unfinished since it had been began. Only Michelangelo's designs and wooden models had survived, but the pope never had time nor money left to fulfill his promise. Nonetheless it carried one of Florence's biggest treasures: the graves of the Medici-family and the glorious chapel of the princes, Luca's grandfather had worked on. Luca stopped his steps and Alessandro waited as well. "Coppo kept me at the Opificio", Luca said. "Together with Tris I work on a commission work for Ciampi's palazzo at Roma's Quirinale. Inlay works for the guest rooms." His gentle brown eyes radiated.

Alessandro took his hands and pressed them. "I'm so happy for you. We have to celebrate by all means. And we have to think what to do first with my money. Holiday at the sea side?"

"Sea side? I thought you'd have had enough of beaches and sun."

"Well, it's February, the air will be great. Forte dei Marmi? And then to Rome. I need to see Masaccio's new tomb."

Luca stood and watched him. "Forte dei Marmi. All right. And then Rome. We have to catch up on so many things."

"Right. You still haven't told me all of your conquests", Alessandro said playfully.

"Eh!" Luca nudged him. "There was only one, Raffaele!"

"Right. He's unique. Does he still dye his hair violet?"

Luca eyed him warily. "Don't tell me you've had him."

"Sure I've had him. He was fifteen or something when he came to Villa Kazar. I was his first. No, he was my first. Anyway..."

"Why have you never told me before!?"

Alessandro placed a kiss on Luca's nose. "Do you know how many Raffaele's live in Florence? And actually I was at ease to know you were in good hands with him. Sshht!, no objections, please", he said, stretching out his hand when Luca went to say something.

Luca shook his head. "You're something", he mumbled.

Alessandro looked ponderously. Briefly the blue sparkle in his eyes were overshadowed with heaps of burdens he had hoped to destroy. He succeeded in many things, but not in every one. He had experienced humiliation for what he was. They had made him feel dirty about the things he loved, because he was different to the mass of humans. He had needed months to feel free and feel good about who he was: a young man who loved the things he did, the things he saw, and the human he was. It took him more than the love of a shepherd's boy to regain his very being. But it had worked out. In one point he'd succeeded: he loved to love. He loved to have sex and he couldn't hold on any longer without Luca.

Slowly he said, "About Leoni and the kid, I'd like to get a divorce, but little Matteo will still be officially my son and the heir of the Gondi-wealth in the end. Nonetheless I thought about the money and reasonable things to spend it on."

"You want to spend it?"

Alessandro stepped closer. "Gioia, what would I do with twenty million Euros for heaven's sake?"

"I thought it was the Gondi-money you don't want to lose."

"Ha. Once I was convinced about that. I've got so many projects in my mind."

"Have you?"

Alessandro nodded vehemently. Arrigo wouldn't see a cent of it. He had money enough himself. But Alessandro could spent it for important things. He could even make peace with Dante and Marcello. Perhaps they would play a role in his plans, giving AIDS patients a home. Two docs were in the family already.

A dove had taken its place upon the head of the monument for Giovanni delle Bande Nere - mercenary leader and family member of the Medici's. Merchants set up their market stands and were filling them with their display of handbags, girdles, shoes, t-shirts and caps. Chattering welled up. Tourist groups tried not to lose their members and gathered in front of the entrance to the Medici graves and chapels. On this junction Luca and Alessandro stood, washed around by starting traffic and rushing people. Old women swinging their black handbags, doing a detour to the early morning Mass. Later they would look for a cheap piece of meat at Florence' market hall.

"Do you feel the Spring within Winter?" Alessandro asked. Then he embraced Luca. His blue eyes were close to Luca's and Alessandro hoped Luca could see the love he felt. When over four years couldn't change what he felt for Luca, why shouldn't it be enough for more years to come?

Their lips met in a furtive kiss, becoming passionate and tongue consuming and both lay all of their hearts in there until Luca struggled for breath and with embarrassment.

"Let them stare", Alessandro whispered into Luca's ear. "Who cares about two queers?"

Luca's pearly laughter fluttered high into the sky.

-- END --