Date: Mon, 07 Sep 1998 12:16:11 +0000
From: Andrej Koymasky <andrejkoymasky@geocities.com>
Subject: Akim-Akim-07

SEVENTH

Akim was concentrated on his Greek translation. Piero looked at him: the
boy was completely engrossed in what he was doing. He loved looking at the
boy.

He discovered that the boy had been shaving for two years. His skin was
smooth, perfect, and just in certain light conditions you could make out
the shadow of the cut hairs, mainly on the upper lip. At times, the boy
could have mistaken for an eighteen or nineteen year old, even if other
times, but not too often, he didn't even show his real sixteen and a half
years.

Piero had a sudden idea. He took a book from the shelf and he thumbed
through it until he found the picture of Tutankhamen's golden mask. Yes, he
was right, it could have been moulded on Akim face! The boy raised his face
and looked at Piero with a serious expression. He noticed the man astounded
expression and asked:

"What happens, professor?"

"Look here!"

"Ah, the golden mask of Tutankhamen. It is at The Cairo Museum." the boy
said, quietly.

"Did you ever see it at The Cairo?"

"Never the real thing. Just in the pictures."

"And... don't you notice something, looking at this picture?"

"No... I don't know... I don't understand. What I'm presumably to notice?"

"Presumed, you have to say. Stand up, come here."

The boy obeyed, slightly astounded. Piero led him in front of a mirror and
opened the book at the side of the boy face so that the mirror could
reflect both together.

"Don't you see?"

"What, professor?"

"You are twins, you and the Pharaoh."

Akim smiled (ah, that smile!) but then became again serious and said, with
simplicity: "Well... we both are Egyptians."

"Yes... right."

Piero said and thought that anyway they were the two most beautiful
Egyptians he ever had seen in all his life. Just, one was dead
almost... three thousand years? but the other one was there, near him, in
the flesh. But said nothing.

"Can I go back to study, now?"

"Yes, sure. Is everything okey?"

"I guess so... I hope. I think I'm understanding, now." the boy answered
and again plunged into his studies.

After dinner Piero explained to him some science then, around ten 'o clock,
sent him back home.

The day of Piero departure came. So Akim was sent to study at Carla's
home. That boy was really indefatigable. It was now months that he studied
all day long, every day and even on Sundays, for several hours a day, and
he was continuing at the same rhythm, inflexible and stern.

Piero drove to Monterosso and settled himself in the small furnished
flat. His daily routine began on the second day, he started to go to the
beach, not far away from his house. He dedicated around three hours in the
morning to swimming and tanning, and the rest of the day, to writing. He
had started his first novel. The text flowed from his pen easily. like if
some interior voice was dictating him and he had just to write it.

At times he had to stop, to massage his hand, hurting from writing for too
long a time, but he felt like he was losing precious minutes. So that he
didn't waste time in doing the shopping, cooking, washing the dishes, he
went down to a small restaurant just in front of his house.

He had found the right rhythm. Swimming, and the time spent tanning in the
morning did reinvigorate him. It was a small beach amongst the rocks, where
it was possible to just go swimming and usually Piero was alone. Some times
another swimmer, man or woman, reached that point, had a short stop, then
went swimming away again. They just exchanged a formal greeting, seldom
some small and short chat.

Just once a young man, that magnetized his attention and rose his desire,
arrived there swimming. The young man lay near him and started to chat with
him. Piero was beginning to hope something could develop. He was trying to
drive the subject in the right direction, so that he could be able to make
some discreet advances without being too obvious, when a girl arrived
there, swimming. The young man waved a hand and said to Piero:

"She's my wife. I've got to go. Bye bye."

He stood up and ran into the water and disappeared from Piero sight. After
a few strokes, he was near the girl. Piero smiled at his illusion -
deception that lasted just a few minutes, for his useless hard on, and
lying back down again, basked under the sun, in blissful loneliness.

He was in Monterosso eight days now, when, going back home from the beach,
he saw in front of him Akim. Yes, it was the boy himself. He wore white
jeans and a red T shirt and he had a cardboard suitcase tied with a crossed
rope near him.

"Akim! What the hell are you doing here?"

"I... I... please don't be upset, professor... but I... I..."

"Come up to my flat, now. But then you have to explain to me!"

Piero said frowning, interrupting the confused stuttering of the boy, and
guiding him to his flat.Yes, he was disturbed by his unexpected arrival,
but... happy, after all, to see him again. But he had to be careful not to
show his feeling... and mainly to himself! When they were in the small
apartment, he made the boy sit, and he sat in front of him:

"So?"

"Well, I... I want to study with you, not with that other one... Professor
Carla Testa could be all right, but..."

"How did you find me?"

"I... I said to professor Carla that I didn't want to study with that one,
and that I wanted your address, and..."

"And she gave it to you?"

"Well, she didn't want, but I said that... I said that... if I didn't go to
your place I would not study any more, so..."

Piero noticed that the boy had lowered his eyes and thought it was for a
sense of shame.

"In short, you blackmailed her."

"In short... yes. I blackmailed professor Carla Testa and so she gave me
your address."

"But... were did you find the money to come here?"

"Hitchhiking. And my father gave me something for the food... Money, I
mean."

"Your father knows you are here?"

"Sure. My father knows everything about me."

"And... did he agree?"

"He say the choice is mine, not his choice."

"That is, he washed his hands of it."

"His he...? Yes, he washes his hands on it. In our country we come of age
at sixteen."

"I see. But we are in Italy."

"Just in three months I'll be seventeen."

"But in Italy, coming of age is at eighteen. And by the way, what if I
don't want you here?"

"I will go back home and stop to study." Akim answered looking straight
into Piero's eyes, and the man understood that the boy wasn't talking for
the sake of talking.

"So you are now blackmailing me too."

"Yes, so I blackmailing also the professor. Because I cannot do the other
thing. I know it is no good. But if you don't want me here, if you don't
want to help me, I don' want to study any more."

"Don't you think I've helped you enough yet, to now?"

"Oh, yes, sure. You helped me a lot, it's true. And Akim is grateful,
really grateful. But... but I... I will not be a weight for you. I know you
have to write so I will do lot of chores for the professor, but
however... no, just but... but I will study. If you do not send me away."

Piero shook his head, undecided. On one hand, in principle at least, he
wanted to send him back. But on the other hand... he knew it would have
been agreeable to have him again at his home, after all he missed him all
those days. But on principle... But wasn't that a principle worth a
farthing? What wrong could it be in surrendering to that... blackmail?

While Piero was thinking, the boy was still looking him in his eyes, almost
holding his breath, waiting. Then, timidly, he whispered:

"The professor... wants one hour to decide? I go down in the street, then I
will be back in one hour, if you want."

Piero barely suppressed a smile: as a teacher he was used to do it, he was
trained.

"No, I don't need that. I've already decided."

Akim widened his eyes and slightly leaned forward.

"I decided that... you can remain." Piero said with a serious expression.

Akim opened up a very sweet, very bright smile, and his eyes filled with
teardrops, then he knelt in front of the professor, lying both his hands on
the man thighs, bent his forehead on the man knees and said, with a voice
broken by his needs and emotions:

"Thank you, thank you, thank you... Oh, thank you!"

Piero was caught unprepared, by that gesture. He felt the boy hands on his
bare thighs - big, sound, strong hands - and felt a long quiver of
emotion. He stood up, confused, and took Akim under his armpits and forced
him up.  Stepping back, even more troubled by the contact of his hands with
the body that was no longer an adolescent, as he always had considered him,
but of a man, not yet mature, still young, but unmistakably of a man. This
sudden awareness made his blood pulsate in his temples, was a shock to
him. That double contact, first on his thighs then on the boy thorax, did
deeply trouble him.

"I've got to get you settled... to decide where you're going to sleep..."

"On the floor, on the floor is all right. You have not to worry for me."

"By no means! The... the bed is wide enough, it's a king size, we can use
it both."

"I will be on the edge, I will not disturb you."

"Sure. I'll free a drawer for your things."

"I've just my books and only one change, in here. I don't need a drawer..."

"Your books, right... put them on that shelf."

"Professor..."

"What's up?"

"Are you very very upset with me?"

"Very very... no. Just one 'very'."

"But... can you forgive me?"

"Sure, if you behave. We will see."

"I will behave very much. I will do all you tell me. All of all."

"Good. You must be tired, now, sweaty. Do you want to shower and then sleep
a while?"

"As you want..."

"OK. Then now you shower then you lie down and rest until lunch time."

He showed him the bathroom, gave him a wide towel and left him there. Akim
closed the door and Piero heard the latch click.  A few moments later, he
heard the shower.

Piero sat at his desk and pulled out his manuscript. Before lunch he wanted
to write a little more. He barely noticed that the shower had stopped and
the door was open again. He didn't notice Akim coming out and looking at
him. The boy understood that his teacher was absorbed in his writing, so he
went on tip toe into the bed room, climbed on bed and stretched out on it,
wearing just the bath towel tight around his waist, covering him to his
ankles.

When Piero looked at his watch, realized it was already one PM.

"Akim!" he called towards the bedroom. No answer.

He stood up and went to look in the bedroom. The boy was lying on his back,
one arm folded on his forehead, the other dropped at the side of his bare
chest. The towel covered his tummy and his thighs and just one leg slightly
folded and one foot come out from it. The boy was deeply asleep. Piero
looked at him: he wasn't wrong, that body was already ripe, could even have
been that of a twenty year old boy... and was beautiful! Too beautiful,
desirable. Dangerous!  Even Akim's posture, rather than innocent, seemed,
even if involuntarily, sensuous. And those lips slightly parted, sweet,
inviting...

"Oh my god, what trouble have I got myself into! I'll have to fight against
myself to be able to respect him! To try not to hold him tight in my arms,
not to kiss him... to hide from him my agitation. Carla, Carla, what you
have done! Well, no... Piero, Piero, what YOU have done!"

He decided not to wake up the boy and went down to eat. Before going back
home he asked them to prepare a dish for the boy's lunch. For sure he will
wake up hungry. He went back home. Akim was still asleep, in the identical
posture he had left him. Piero left the room, put the dish with the food on
the kitchen's small table then went again at his desk and resumed writing
his novel.

Around four PM he heard a noise. He turned back and saw Akim in the bedroom
doorway. He had dressed again: now he wore a black jean and a white T shirt
- the only other clothes he had.

"Welcome back. Do you feel hungry?"

"A little... How long did I sleep?"

"About four hours..."

"So much?" the boy asked, amazed.

"Evidently you needed it. Go into the kitchen and eat, now. After you will
start to study."

"Sure." Akim answered.

Piero heard him eating. Then saw Akim beside him:

"I can study there in the kitchen, so I don't bother you..."

"Yes, all right. But if you meet some problem you have to come and ask me,
understood?"

"Understood, thank you."

Akim took some books and disappeared again in the kitchen. Piero forgot
him, until he heard the belltower ring eight o'clock.

"Akim, supper time!" he called.

"Tell me what I have to prepare, professor."

"Nothing. We are going to the restaurant."

"But... the restaurant is expensive. If I cook at home it will be lot
cheaper and... professor can save money."

"It's on me, don't worry." Piero said thinking that for sure the boy must
have very little money with him.

"But professor must not to spend money for me..."

"Anyway I would have spent money for your lessons. So, instead of the
teacher, I will pay the restaurant."

"But I..." the boy objected.

"Didn't you say you would obey me?" Piero surly went back.

"Yes, sure, I... obey."

They went to the restaurant. Ate almost in silence. Then Piero paid and
they went out.

"Sorry, professor, but I... I would have cooked better and it would have
costed half. Less than half."

"You are here to study, and anyway you'll do as I decide, no?"

"Sure, professor."

Piero told himself that he had to stop treating the boy so hard, but he
felt that after all that hardness was a kind of self defence towards the
boy. Or rather, towards the attraction he had discovered himself feeling
towards Akim.

They went back home. Piero decided to explain to him a little of science,
the subject where Akim was weaker. In Greek, he got on almost well, he had
just to do a lot of exercises and a good rehearsal of conjugations and
declensions. But in sciences the boy had yet several points that weren't
clear.

They spent an hour and a half, next to each other, and several times Piero
had to resist the impulse to gird his shoulders with his arm, to clasp him
to his body, to kiss him. And it was even worse because he knew, he felt
that the boy wouldn't have objected, decided as he was to do "all of all"
he wanted from him. The boy would have thought of that as his duty, a way
to thank his teacher, to pay him back. And this was the last thing Piero
wanted.

At last, around midnight, they went to bed. They undressed turning their
backs to each other, one at one side of the bed, the other at the
other. Piero, contrary to his habit, didn't pull off his singlet and his
briefs. He heard the boy slipping into the bed and he too climbed in. Akim
was bare chested and Piero hoped he was wearing at least his briefs. Akim
had kept faith with his promise and was completely near the edge of the
bed. Also Piero laid near the edge on his side. He shut off the light. Told
him good night. But wasn't able to fall asleep.

A little while later, the deep breathing of the boy make him understand
that Akim had dropped off asleep. So, he too, finally, sweetly glided
asleep, his head and his heart full of Akim.

Piero woke up: it was six in the morning. The sun already brightly filtered
through the window. During the night he must have kicked away the bed
sheets and was uncovered. He looked towards the boy - he too was uncovered.

He wore small light cotton briefs, a very pale blue with an elastic band of
a deeper blue. And Piero felt his heart jump in his chest. Akim had a very
visible erection, the classic morning erection, and his briefs not only
didn't conceal it, but rather seemed to underline it, lay a pleasurable
emphasis on it. And the tool that could be guessed under the thin cloth
that was stretched to the limit, was that of a mature man, not that of a
boy! Piero was fascinated. With difficulty, he turned away his eyes then
lowered them to caress the beautiful legs, well shaped and strong, then
went up again, again lingered on that glorious turgidity, went up more to
the flat hollow belly, on the chiselled abdominals, on the wide and
hairless chest, on the face, gently relaxed in sleep.

Piero realized he was fully aroused, so he shook off, got up from the bed,
went in the bathroom and showered, hoping to calm down his ardours, but
succeeded just masturbating under the water pelt. And he was able not to
think of Akim, but about that first time with Luca, under the shower, there
in the sauna, with the hot, inexhaustible Luca, the blond Luca with his
blue eyes... so different from... and he came, thinking the name of Akim.

He dressed and looked at the watch: just six thirty! He decided to write
for a while: he knew that had the power to remove the boy from his
thoughts, to prevent him from going back to bed, to search the solace of
that body, so sensual...

At eight thirty he woke the boy up and told him they were going to the
beach. The boy obeyed but asked to bring his books. Piero replied that at
least in the morning he had to relax, he wanted to avoid getting
exhaustion.

"But I'm very strong, professor."

"But any strength has a limit and I don't want you to surpass that limit."
Piero refuted underlining the words "I don't want".

Akim understood and nodded.

"Do you have a bathing suit?"

"No..."

"But... can you swim?"

"Sure. As a child I swam a lot in the sea, there near our home."

"Possibly one of my bathing suits can fit you... our bodies are not so
different."

He searched and found a suit that was very tight on him. The boy withdraw
into the bathroom and came back a while later:

"It seems made for me!" he said, quite astounded.

"It is lastex. It adapts very well."

They went to the sea side. Akim was really a good swimmer. They lied down
under the sun. Piero asked him to tell him something he remembered about
his life in Egypt and laid on his belly so he couldn't look at that so
beautiful body, lying two spans from his own body...