Date: Sat, 3 May 2003 13:57:22 EDT
From: SSch191950@aol.com
Subject: Made in Heaven, chapter 10

MADE IN HEAVEN
by Stefan

Chapter 10: I don't wanna die


    "Coco, come here sweetie, it's breakfast time", Christian heard
Maxim calling. He heard him roaming the rooms in search of his cat.
He snuggled deeper into the pillows and took the manuscript of
Tim's novel. He had made it to the final story and the title had
made him so curious that he couldn't stop once he had started.

Maxim's calls became lower. He must had been in the living room or
kitchen. At least the stupid cat didn't lay in wait and watched when
they were having sex, he thought. It always was as if he would
understood what they were doing. Satisfied he slid a little higher
and started to read on.



"Killing me softly

Sascha bent down to pick up the yellow roses lying on the doormat.
He picked them up with a queasy feeling not because of the thorns,
but because of their meaning. He placed them with the other roses in
all shades of colours that were spread all over the flat.

      "Another one?" Denis asked tired. "Why don't you give them to
the woman next door. Or throw them away."

     "It's not the rose's fault. He knows I love roses."

     "Yeah and there's another bunch of them each day." Denis sounded
more angry than he was. He stood up and took Sascha into his arms.
"What have you done? First the roses, then the calls by night. He's
laying in wait for you wherever we go. Watching us."

     "I know", Sascha said indistinctly. "Let us go on holiday, what do
you think? Say yes."

     "It's not possible without a word of warning. I'll try."



Sascha couldn't sleep. He left Denis sleeping by his side and tiptoed
into the kitchen, sat at the table and smelled the rose's scent. There
had been a time when the bringer of the flowers - Carsten - had treated
him like empty air. Well, there was no more than a friendly chat from
colleague to colleague. And why should Carsten go beyond a chat;
Sascha was much too unimportant to rouse Carsten's interest.

Sascha watched how he was picked up by a new men each week. He
flirted openly with customers, sometimes with success, sometimes
he earned abusive words he laughed about. He was a symbol of a
gay-macho and Sascha adored him. Despite all sensible reasons he
wanted to be included in Carsten's notebook, in the long row of lover's
and ex-lovers. But apparently he wasn't his type of man.

Both worked at the same place, a bookshop, large enough to meet
only in the canteen or when one of them were changing the departments
that were spread over three floors, not to mention the department of
classical music in the basement; the biggest in the whole of Germany.
Sascha organised music performances and looked after the import of
sheets of music, musical notations, text books, merchandising of all
kinds of classical composers and performers. Carsten never lost his
way down here, but sometimes Sascha strolled through the children's
book-department to see Carsten at his work."

 Christian's stopped reading. Suddenly he felt suspicion. Bookshop?
One of them was in love with his colleague? Was this the very personal
story where Tim worked in his own feelings? And who was the one he
was in love with then? Maxim? How come Maxim hadn't noticed the
coincidences between fiction and reality?



"Everything seemed to be gloomy for Sascha. The more often he saw
Carsten - and he made sure that their ways crossed more and more - so
his idolisation grew. He had to be blind for love, Sascha thought,
remembering the situation. But how blind  can a man be? And what's
love anyway? You can't name a crush love; a certain affection to a body
he wanted to be his own. To take the price whatever it should be. But
before that all he would have had possessed Carsten and what would had
come afterwards Sascha didn't care for.

Carsten couldn't have been so blind not to see the looks Sascha was
throwing at him, not the "accidental" meetings and all. But Carsten just
continued to give him uninterested looks. Then the most amazing thing happened on
one Saturday evening, shortly before closing time at 10 in the evening.

A blue cloud filled with twinkling dust welled up from under the cover
of the first of the Harry Potter books and Sascha's eyes grew large. Sure,
 he thought, Professor Snape - the specialist for magic potions - had an
accident in his dungeon he used as working place, Sascha thought amused
and shook his head. He was having hallucinations. But then the book opened
and enveloped Sascha in a blue haze.

     "Don't tell me. I know what you want to wish", a voice chirped and a small
figure emerged from the haze. She looked at Carsten who was sorting books in a
shelf, looking occasionally at him, giving him a friendly smile from one
colleague to the other. "You wish he would be yours, right?"

     "Right. For ever. He shall love me for always and forever." Sascha didn't
even wonder about the absurdity of this situation, talking to a fairy-tale
character. Strangely Carsten didn't seem to see anything of it; nor did  he
notice that Sascha spoke nor who it was to whom he spoke.

     "But what's this about? Are you one of the fairies granting wishes to
celebrate the new born prince of a fairy kingdom?" Sascha still chuckled.

     "Almost right." She turned around herself, blinking at Carsten who
started to gather his stuff to leave the bookshop. By this time she spread
more of her blue haze into the nearer surrounding. "It's impossible", she
said then, "your wish is dangerous."

     "Dangerous?" Sascha was disappointed. "I thought you would grant each
wish, no matter what."

But she shook her head. Sascha seemed undecided. Perhaps she was acting
without permission. "I have to warn you urgently. It's a dangerous wish. You
don't know this ... indisputably handsome young man. You can't spoil his way
of life by wishing something that would affect him too much."

Suddenly her green-golden eyes were too close to his own. They filled space
 and room and Sascha felt something tugging at his mind. "Think with your
brain, not with that what you have between your legs. Wish for yourself.
Only for yourself."

     "Well, I do it for myself, don't I? I want him. He must be finished with
all the guys he's changing like his socks. I AM his boyfriend and he will
never ask for anybody else. Isn't it fair? I'll make him happy."

The tiny person sighed and looked up at him in a very speculative way.
"Alright. Since you're the last I'll grant this wish. But I'll leave you the
option to revoke. You have one year."

     "But how will I find you again?"

     "Next year, same time, same place." And with that she disappeared with
a blue swirl into the open book cover that banged shut and Sascha panted
a long breath of fresh air.

Instantly Carsten was at his side, clapping his back with his palm. "Have
you swallowed something the wrong way?" he asked concerned.

Sascha's heartbeat quickened. Was this the start? Had he stirred interest
already?

    "Shall I bring you a glass of water?"

     "Huh?" Sascha stared at him with disbelief. Five minutes ago Carsten
was ready to go without a word and now he acted like Florence Nightingale
herself. "Well, no ... thanks." He waved off. "That's very nice of you
though."

Carsten's blue eyes pierced him with affection. As if they had never
looked differently at him. "Good", he said. "Then we can go and have a
late lunch, what do you think?"

Sascha blinked. It had worked! he cheered inwardly. A broad smile
enchanted his face.

Carsten guided him to "Adam's", a newly opened restaurant nearby which
served heavenly tasting menus and all at decent prices. Even Sascha could
afford it and Carsten's company was only adding to his comfort."



     "Chris! Chris, come up, quick!"

Huh? Christian emerged to reality again, tossed the manuscript aside
and jumped out of the bed. Hurriedly he slid into his jeans and ran into
the living room. He still heard Maxim calling but didn't know where
he was. The calls seemed to come from the roof. He scrambled up the
 stair case and was blinded by the flooding sun light. He squinted his
eyes before he could make out Maxim crouched on the ground,
stroking something that looked like a white spot of milk, spilled on
the ground.

     "It's Coco. He's sick. Look at this."

Christian came closer and bent down. Coco lay at his side amid a puddle
of green vomit, all four legs spread out and panted flatly and very low.
"He's alive," he said unnecessarily.

     "Yeah, but for how long. Please, where's the nearest doc? Can you
call somebody?"

     "I don't know any vet personally." Christian pondered quickly. "Wait,
there's a vet near by, but it's Sunday!"

     "Then go and search the telephone book, damn." Maxim sounded
hysterical. "He must have eaten the plants here. They are poison for
animals. Jesus Christ, who left the door up here open?"

But Christian had left already the roof and looked up the book for the
central station for poisoning. They would know advice even if it was
for animals.

Maxim meanwhile cursed his idea to sat up those plants although he
knew they were poisoned. But Coco was always so clever, how could
he have foreseen that he would chew on them? He stroked Coco's soft
fur. He had his eyes closed and his little body was shaken from time
to time with cramp. He brought up more of the green slimy stuff.

     "Take him down", he heard Christian calling. "We'll bring him to
the clinic."



Coco got his little stomach pumped out and they had to leave him
there for the night, to watch his circulation. Maxim was more than
relieved although the doc had said it was no minute too soon when
they had brought him.

     "I told you to make sure the door was shut," Maxim said angrily
when they returned in the car.

     "So it was me, yes? Whose cat is it? If you're so fond of him then
it's your job to examine all doors. You haven't missed him the whole
night and don't say it's my fault because I had occupied you with more
important things."

     "More important things?" Maxim called out.

     "You don't want to tell me that a cat is more important than me."
Christian snapped back.

Maxim glared at him. "You hate him. You hated him the first time
you saw him. And I believe the feeling's mutual."

Christian rolled his eyes and stopped at a traffic light. "Maxim! Stop
making me cross. Yeah, sure I forgot to check the doors. But you did
as well. And who bought all the plants actually? I thought you're an
expert in plants, so you must have known that they're poison for cats."

Maxim said nothing anymore. He chewed on his underlip. What was
Chris saying? That it was him or the cat? Stupid.

     "Well, he survived," Christian said in a conciliatory tone. "We will
check the doors always from now on, ok? Or you remove the plants.
Although they look great."

Maxim mumbled something.

     "Hey", Christian squeezed Maxim's upper thigh, "let's not argue
about a cat. Alright?"

     "It's not A CAT. It's Coco. I wouldn't know what I would do if he
had died."

     "You still had me to cuddle with."

    "You don't want to understand me."

Christian decided it was better to be silent here. Of course he didn't
understand the fuss about the cat. Sure it would had been a pity if he
had died. On the other hand.... Coco occupied too much of Maxim's
heart.

     "Let's go and find something for breakfast, what do you think.
Digest the shock."

     "I can't eat right now."

     "Then watch me eating. I'm starving."

Maxim raised an eyebrow but gave in.

When they returned home the wide open place of the Sony Centre was
filling with painted, flagged, euphoric people, ready to watch the
final match of the Football Championships, and they were running
right into the arms of Nadine and Tom. "There you are!" she shouted.
"Then I can ring for dear life and you won't open."

She had painted her cheeks with black-red-golden rectangles and Tom
was wrapped in a flag. "We have enough provisions for extended time
and penalty-shooting", she grinned, pointing to her rucksack.

     "It's golden goal, no penalty shooting", Tom rolled his eyes.

     "Whatever. Are you both coming?" She looked from Maxim to Christian;
forth and back. Her smile fainted. "What's wrong?" Maxim shook himself
awake. "Sure I'm coming", he said. "Do you?"

Christian looked amazed at him. "I thought you and me would make
a trip outside to recover."

     "And I told you I'd like to watch the match."

More people streamed into the centre and the four of them were pushed.
Christian's ears hurt from blown trumpets and signalling whistles.
"Well, do what you want", he said. "I'm off with the motorbike."
Without looking back he went on until he had vanished through the
front door to his apartment.

Nadine and Tom looked surprised at Maxim. "Had you an argument?"

     "Not really." Maxim pulled them with him to find good seats in
 front of the video canvas. Samba-groups boomed up to the tent-roof.
Some girls with milk-coffee brown skin presented more of it than
Maxim wanted to see; shaking their almost uncovered asses, and Maxim
regretted that he hadn't followed Christian.

     "Coco has poisoned himself", he said when they had managed to get
hold of a place at one of the long benches. "We had to leave him in the
animal clinic."

Nadine and Tom looked dismayed. "How could this happen?"

     "He chewed at the plants upon the roof terrace. We've left open the
door. Shit, I was buying them! I must have been mad. Back at home I
hadn't any poisoned plants. The devil must had told me."

Nadine put his hand over Maxim's. "Stop cursing yourself. You can't
exclude each eventuality. Well, only in not buying poison-plants... he
will survive, yes?"

The match started and the noise grew louder. "I think Chris doesn't care
what happened to Coco. He never liked him."

Tom inspected him. "Perhaps he's jealous."

     "Jealous on a cat? What's there to be jealous?"

     "Well, I was told when I was born my parents had to remove the cat
because she started to scratch me. She certainly was jealous not to be
the centre of my parent's life anymore. I suppose it's mutual feeling,
is it?"

Maxim nodded. "Yeah, Coco can't stand him. He never sleeps close to
me anymore." His naïve outburst amused Tom and he exchanged a look
with Nadine. "That's when there's one lover too much", he joked. "You
think it's him or the cat?"

   "No, this is laughable. They have to arrange."

   "And court your love", Nadine added.

     "Perhaps." Maxim stared at the big canvas, not seeing anything. Chris
had gone alone with his motorbike. Without him. While he had hardly
made a step without Maxim since he had moved in with him.

All three watched silently for a while the enthusiastic people and the
action on the canvas took place in far Japan. Finally they got carried
away until the German goal keeper made his one and only mistake in
the tournament, left through a ball and Germany lost. The disappointment
was tangible while the Brazilian girls swung their butts and large flags
were unrolled.

Tom ruffled his hair for despair and shook his head. "What a pity". But
it didn't take long until the fans started to shout the name of the trainer,
the goal keeper and their country in general and fraternized with the fans
of Brazil. Tom ordered three beers and washed away the disappointment.

     "Now, honey," Nadine said, "I think you've a problem."

Maxim squinted at Tom, then he decided that he was trustworthy. "Actually
it's just about the cat."

Nadine leaned over. She licked away the small rim of beer-foam on her
upper lip. "It's not just the cat, honey. I've watched you both. That's not
the Maxim Sageroff I used to know.  Where's the witty, sharp-analysing
young man of yours? Where's the independent, 'I-do-my-own-thing'-guy?
Where's the conqueror of all the pretty boys, eh?" She leaned back. "This
was your first bad choice."

Maxim's cheeks started to glow. "How can you say this? You don't
know Chris."

     "She's not in love with him", Tom said laconic.

     "Huh?"

     "I mean she can see him clearer. Without looking through pink
glasses."

Nadine beamed at Tom for saying the right thing.

     "Ah, you both have made allies against me, yes?" Maxim said
aggressive. Actually he was amused about their concern. After all
the argument was just about Coco and should be forgotten very soon.
What did they know about Christian? Nothing. They didn't know about
his care, about his tenderness, about his passion and his romantic soul.
His little jealousy should be forgiven.

Nadine saw the glistening in his eyes. The white in his eyes stuck out
and made his pupils so very black. His skin had become so dark
meanwhile that even Tom was pale compared to him. Too bad he
was gay. But - she turned her head to Tom - good to know that
Thomas stood the comparison in general. She grinned at Maxim.
"Whenever you've trouble, you know where my ear is."


Maxim didn't know how to fill the sparse time. He called the animal
clinic to learn that Coco was well and ready to be picked up tomorrow.
The day was still young when Tom and Nadine had left him. He didn't
want to go with them and be the fifth wheel. It was warm and it was
one of the rare days in Berlin when the sky was deep blue and carried
a wind from the East. Cooling, fresh air and Maxim breathed. Soon it
was his birthday. At home it had been a grand feast and here at his
new homeland it shouldn't be different. Christian would meet his
parents, babushka and all the friends from Russia and Germany for
his parents worked for the association "Harmonie", a society founded
for Russian emigrants where they could find help with bureaucracy
and language. He wasn't sure if Christian was interested in that, but
anyhow.

He should had gone with him he thought melancholic, sitting in a
deckchair upon the roof and let the sun heating his naked body.
He missed his cat. He missed Chris. What was he doing right now?

The shadows had become longer and sharper when he had woken up
and noticed his growling stomach. He ran downstairs into the living
room, sure that Chris had turned up meanwhile, but the apartment was
empty. Disappointed he made himself a sandwich and sat at the piano.
He lifted the lid and hit some keys. What a present. Unnecessary in
addition. Surely it was nice to have it to play with whenever he liked
to play with. But he could do without that very well. He had his whole
life so far.  Then something struck his mind. What if Chris gave him
the piano to keep him home? Hadn't he seen the pulled eyebrows when
he mentioned that he wanted to play in the bar now more often again?
Didn't he want to keep him from that? Hadn't he asked where he would
stay then? That he wanted Maxim for his own?

Christian was a man who didn't share. This so far he had figured out.
With emphasis he closed the lid over the keys and strolled through
the flat. When he needed to think he couldn't sit down. Arrived in the
bed room he saw Tim's novel laying on Chris' nightstand. He sat upon
the bed and took it up. The bookmark stuck at Tim's last story "Killing
me softly". Surely Maxim had read it and had shook his head about
Sascha's stupid wish to make a man falling in love with himself. What
if Sascha's love would die one day and he couldn't get rid off the love
of the other man?

Maxim shuddered. It was as if a goose had walked over his future grave.
Quickly his eyes found the painted eyes of Mother Mary. He had hung
the icon next to his bed. Tim's stories had the habit not to have a happy
ending and so did this story. Maxim must be blind not to see the
coincidences to Tim's real life. The protagonist - Sascha - worked in
a bookshop and was in love with his colleague. What would happen if
the fairy godmother would Tim grant a wish? What would he wish for?
That he - Maxim - would fall in love with Tim? He wouldn't be able to
stop this and would cling for a lifetime to Tim if he wanted or not. The
godmother was right. It would be a dangerous wish.

He shuddered once more. What if Chris had seen the similarities
too? When he started to mistrust Tim? Had been his questions last night
about this?

The sun sunk and Christian hadn't returned home. Maxim had called the
clinic again. Coco was sleeping and still ok. At least this problem was
going to be solved.

He strolled through the flat, examining Christian's working room, the
bookshelves, found more of those odd little poems telling him about
departure and death, until he found an old photograph.

It showed a family gathered in a sun flooded garden. In the background
he could make out a house, in front of them were posing a stiff looking
pair and to their feet crouched boy twins, smiling broadly  into the
camera. Identical faces, light blond hair that curled over their foreheads,
bodies in shorts and sandals. Martin and Christian.

Maxim turned the photo. "Summer 1982". Twenty years ago. The twins
must have been eight then. He looked at the woman, a large, thin woman
with a long, serious face and melancholic, grey eyes. Her husband beside
her held a significant space and didn't touch her. He had a prominent face
full of character and a firm body. Christian and Martin were the perfect
blend of both.

Maxim sat into Coco's favourite armchair and stared at the photo. The
woman was dead. Drowned in a lake. Voluntarily. What made her so
desperate that she wanted to end her life and leave her little boys? What
secret hid this family that Chris didn't want to unveil? Was it so painful?
And what about Martin? Had he the same hurt? Would Philipp know the
true story?

Maxim remembered his plea for the job at the bookshop and Maxim
certainly wanted him there. He would give a good word for Phil tomorrow
and then he had much time to talk with him about that.

His eyes became heavy. The day in the sun had made him tired.

He woke up again by a strong arm lifting him from the armchair, carrying
him into the bedroom. His lids opened and looked into Christian's gentle
face. "Hello, sweetie", he murmured. "You've fallen asleep." He lay him
down and took off his shoes, then he opened the zipper of Maxim's jeans
and pulled them down. With the same tenderness he pulled the T-shirt over
 his head and crawled next to him.

Maxim felt the weight of his body on his own. "Where have you been?" he
asked tired.

     "Shsht, don't talk." Christian's lips wandered over Maxim's forehead,
his eyes, the nose and kissed the corner of his mouth. His hand started an
exploration when Christian crouched above him, looked into his eyes and
then Maxim's mind started to reel. He was much too busy to cope with
that what Christian's hands were doing with him. He closed his eyes, gave
a small sigh and felt his semen flooding over Christian's tongue.

His face appeared again. He kissed Maxim passionately. "I'm sorry about
Coco; sorry about everything. I won't leave you alone again, promise."

Maxim cuddled to his side, tired and satisfied. His hand slid down over
Christian's hips, to his abdomen to the hard erection. He started to stroke
it slowly and lazily. "Where have you been? I missed you."

     "I... I was driving. Nothing more." His breath became laboured. Maxim's
fingers tickled his balls and his short nails scraped softly along the shaft,
before his hand embraced it, released it again and started the game
once more. Christian's eyes were shaded with lust though his face was
relaxed. He lay there like a big, golden cat being petted and spoilt.

     "Where have you been driving to?" Maxim let lose of Christian's penis
but instead embraced his body and pulled him close to his side.

     "Don't stop... please?" Maxim felt his breath at his ear.
"I was everywhere...  and nowhere. I can't remember. Don't stop."
He brought space between their bodies. Maxim felt distinctly Christian's
penis rubbing at his own belly, craving for release.


In the middle of the night Christian stood up and covered the sleeping
Maxim carefully. Naked as he was he tiptoed into the living room to pick
up what had been forgotten. A minute later he stared at the old family-
photograph and sunk into Coco's favourite armchair. The red leather was
cold, but he didn't realize. His mother. His father. The twins. A happy
family. Christian let out a sound similar to a little animal. His father
stood there like a self-controlled general, ruling the family, but the
boys' breezy laughing faces told him it must have been a happy childhood.
Was it?

His look swung back to his mother's face. It wasn't about if he had had
a happy childhood. It was about if his mother had let a happy marriage.

When he had been seven he would had answered with yes. With eight he
wasn't so sure anymore. In his head an avalanche rolled on, full of rash
and hasty memories. He glared into his mother's face: the longish, stern
face, that somehow absorbed each motion. His beloved mother...

Christian's head rolled against the back, and he stared at the ceiling. His
body became cold while he tried to master the tidal wave of pictures. His
brain showed him photographs; black and white-pictures with blood-
red-coloured spots standing out. A hotchpotch of open tablet's tubes upon
the living room's table. Beside them an empty Whisky bottle. Cold water,
splashing into his face. Christian's body jerked with the same rhythm as the
neighbour kicked the entrance door to their house. The sweetish-stinging
smell of streaming gas. Martin's pale children's face, bent over him with
wide tore, catatonic eyes.

Christian cried when he felt a touch at his shoulder. He blinked confused
before he realized it was Maxim's dark eyes, and his name that was called.

     "You're cold as ice!" He pulled Christian from the seat and took him
into his arms. Maxim's naked body warmth was so soothing and so
comforting. Christian clung to him.

     "Come into bed."

Maxim covered him before he lay beside him and pulled Christian tightly
 to his side. "What have you done there in the armchair? You've cried out.
 It didn't sound like a cry for lust."

     "No." The tidal wave of pictures faded in the same speed as they had
come.

     "Has it anything to do with the photo?"

Christian didn't answer. His hands were painful cramped and his face
somehow grey.

     "Yes. No", he said finally. He tried hard to keep his eyes open, but
Maxim had the feeling he didn't see him. Chris was far away. And still
 cold.

     "Christian. If I shall help you, then you have to tell me your family-
secret." He tried an accentuated light-hearted tone. It couldn't be that
worse, could it.

     "I just thought about our father." Christian's voice was brittle. Maxim
tried to warm him. He took Chris' cramped hands from his shoulders,
opened them and started to massage them with circular movements.
"What's so bad with your father? Apart from he despises you because
 you're gay. I thought rather it's because of your mother."

The avalanche approached again. Christian pulled back his hands and
turned off. Why was it possible that such an old photo could put out
him that much? He couldn't understand.

He sat upon the edge of the bed and let hung his head. "I don't want
it", he whispered. "I don't want anything of that." Abruptly he turned to
Maxim. "What had you to do between my stuff anyway?" he said
sharply. "Everything's your fault!"

Maxim was distraught before indignation won upper hand. "What
are you telling me here? If you have secrets then hide them so well
that I won't be able to find them! Why don't you just plit up your
flat into divisions I shan't enter!? He saw Christian's back stiffening and
regretted his harsh tone. He threw himself across the bed and slid his
hands over Christian's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Chris", he whispered.
"It's because you don't tell me anything."

Christian shook off his hands. "Do you love me?" he asked, turning
back. Maxim sat amidst the bed covers, naked, the skin gold dusted
by the light of the nightstand's lamp, the face in shadows, hiding his
eyes. His almond eyes Christian fell in love with a long time ago; the
black hair, soft as Coco's fur, the curved breast and the firm stomach
and belly below. But Maxim hesitated with his answer.  Too long for
Christian.

     "You love ME?" Maxim retorted then. "It's too early for me. Love's
something that has to grow."

But Christian shook vehemently his head. "No. Love's always there."
He outstretched his arm and Maxim took his hand. "Love's always here.
Can't you feel it?"

Maxim watched him. Surely he felt the vibrations, the crackling erotic,
connecting him with Chris. But love? Was that, that Maxim had felt for
Chris when he wishfully had envied him and Philipp  been love? And
now,  that he had all what he had dreamt for, he couldn't give affirmation
to Chris question. All what he saw was a trembling Christian, who was
desperate to get the right and suiting answer.

   "Why didn't you want to sleep with me?" Maxim asked instead of.
"Have you tried to make me so crazy for you until I would begged
you on my knees?" 'In order to hear Philipp's name then when you
came' he added in his mind.

     "No, of course not. You must believe me", Christian assured him.
"I just wasn't ready. It hadn't anything to do with you."

     "And within those few months you realized that you love me?"

Christian nodded. Maxim didn't believe that everything was so easy.
 But on the other hand, love was simple. It was nothing that you could
influence, force nor deny. IF you know when affection turned into love.
Maxim wasn't sure about that. Despite everything there was still the thin
voice within his mind giving warnings.

Christian's grip tightened around Maxim's wrist. With a jump he flung
himself upon Maxim's body and buried Maxim under his own. "I love you,
Maxim. I love you." His kisses met Maxim's nose, cheeks, ear, neck,
collarbone. "Tomorrow morning I'll pick up Coco."

     "I want to go with you."  Maxim realized suddenly that he wasn't not
the slightest bit wiser about what had happened with Chris; there in the
armchair.

     "Don't leave me, promise me." Christian had lifted his head. In his
eyes gleamed a light spot caused by the lamp. His face was calm again,
though Maxim seemed to note a bitter line around his mouth. "I told you
I'll go with you", he said, aware that this was not the right answer to
Christian's question. He reached up and stroked back Christian's hair,
revealing the jagged scar at his hairline.

     "For ever?" Christian asked.

Maxim struggled. Although he always enjoyed Chris' bodyweight...
tonight he had something suffocating. He managed to push him onto his
back and bent over him.

     "I can't live without you," Christian whispered.

Maxim blinked. He had heard those words before. No, he had read them
before. In Tim's last story.

     "What happened to your mother?" he asked suddenly. His voice
sounded clear and determined.

     "She's drowned in a lake", Chris answered automatically.

     "Yeah, I know. But why? It wasn't a swimming accident. She has
killed herself. Why?"

Christian closed his eyes and turned off his head. The hands, stroking
Maxim's back, fell aside and he lay motionless. And very silent.

  "Christian, I know it's probably painful to talk about it. But it wasn't
your fault why she died. She was the one leaving you alone."

Christian looked at him. This time his eyes glistened with anger. And
with tears. Maxim didn't notice; he was absorbed in his theory. "The
old photo - it's from 1982. Was it her last summer? What had happened
there?"

     "What if I'm guilty for her death?"

     "You? Why's that?" Maxim's heartbeat quickened. "You certainly
didn't drown her, did you?" It should sound funny, but Maxim's
voice betrayed him. What was this family secret? What would Philipp
know? The truth?

     "Leave it, Maxim. I can't talk about it. I've never talked to anybody
about this very special thing." He lay his palm over his eyes. "My father's
a swine. He has killed her."

     "In doing what? You said they had argued a lot."

     "Other women of course." Suddenly he took Maxim's upper arms and
dug his fingers into the flesh. "I don't want to lose you, Maxim. I always
lose somebody. All the people I love."

Maxim's stomach was on fire. It was as if something would squeeze the
air from his lungs. This was the reason. Christian suffered from being
afraid for losses. He didn't ask further. If he had, he would had to ask
himself if it was always the others who were to blame, or if it was rather
Christian's own fault that he ended up alone.

Maxim didn't ask this night. He lowered his head and touched Christian's
lips with his own. His fingers found the button of the stereo and a low,
pulsating music filled the bedroom. Pulsating basses like his heartbeat,
deep and sexy, and Maxim swore in the end he would never leave him
alone. Never ever.

Although he must have known that those oaths made short before an
orgasm were doomed to be forgotten as soon as ecstasy fainted.


In the morning Christian was up long before Maxim. When an appetizing
smell for fried eggs, buttered toast and fresh coffee floated through the
apartment, Maxim opened his eyes and sniffed. To sit upright at the edge
of the bed wasn't a good idea for his anus hurt too much for that. Maxim
grinned 'like Chris's must hurt'. He let out a high-spirited cry and
rushed cheerfully into the kitchen. As always, Christian hadn't had done
any circumstances with dressing, but only had his apron around his waist,
leaving the white, round globes free for Maxim to watch and to adore
like melons surrounded by cream. He stepped behind him and pressed his
half-hard penis into the crack. Christian jumped. "Geez, not that
again!" he snorted. "You've startled me."

   "With what?" He rubbed tenderly his cock up and down, moistened the
crack with his fluid. Christian pushed back. "Two minutes and we have
coal in the pan", he said, turning to Maxim, embracing him, still holding
the cooking spoon.

     "Who cares about coal in the pan", Maxim murmured. "Thanks for
beautiful night." His almond eyes drowned into Christian's grey sparkling
ones.

     "You're welcome." He tugged at his short apron, lifted it until his
naked abdomen and his erect penis, touched Maxim's. "As much
as I want to, but you should go and wash away that intoxicating smell for
semen, endorphin and men and then... let's have breakfast." He patted
Maxim's arse cheeks and shoved him in the direction of the bath.



Coco jumped literally into his arms when Maxim entered the watching
station at the animal clinic and opened the cage. He meowed as if he
hadn't seen him for a year long. Maxim thought it was rather a complaint
that he had to stay here overnight and that Maxim had allowed that he
had poisoned himself. "I know, sweetie," Maxim murmured. "I'm so
sorry about all this. I should have told you that the plants are taboo.
Well, now you know, don't you?" He pierced Coco's blue eyes,
searching for comprehending.

Coco's eyes found Christian, standing aside and his fur bristled.
There was no way that he would allow Chris to stroke him. Maxim
searched questioning for the eyes of the young assistant. "You think
it's normal?" Maxim asked her. "Is there any chance that Coco will
be friends with him sometime?"

She rocked her head pensively. "I don't think so. Animals have a fine
instinct." She guided her blue eyes - matching Coco's - at Christian.
"Either they feel fear or hate. Are you afraid of cats?"

     "Well, I never had a cat. I don't know how to treat him."

     "You're insecure." She nodded. "Yes, happens often. Well, I wouldn't
force anything. You can't train cats, he will always do what he likes,
right Coco?" She petted Coco behind the ears and he let it gladly happen.
"Some day he will jump into your lap and act as if this was always his
favourite place", she laughed. Maxim laughed with her. Only Christian
didn't bat an eye.

At home Coco occupied the apartment again, inspecting each corner,
but avoided the staircase up to the terrace roof like the plague. Maxim
praised him for that. Perhaps he would stay down from now on. "Listen,
honey, I have to go to work", he said to the cat. "Since Chris is away too
you have the flat for yourself. Don't do anything silly again, ok?" Coco
followed Maxim's outstretched and lifted forefinger with interest and
meowed.




     "How's Coco?" Nadine jumped to him as soon as he saw him.

     "Perfect", Maxim beamed. "Everything's ok." He nodded to Tim.
"Where's Wolfie? I need to speak to him."

    "If you mean the stand-in for Luan, it's all settled." He pulled Maxim
a little further so he could peer into Wolfgang's office. He saw Philipp
 sitting at the table in front of him, signing something. "He's quick,
isn't he."

     "I hope you don't mean early ejaculations", Nadine said dryly and
Maxim rolled his eyes.  "Why? Has Tom problems?" He grinned
at her.  "If you want to know ask Tim."

He went through the rooms, noting that the shop was almost empty.
Summer's time. But this didn't mean that the daily internet orders
would be diminish. In the opposite. When it's hot nobody was in the
mood to stroll through book shops. Except he himself perhaps. He
looked around. Like all of his colleagues he corrected himself.
"Nadine? Do you have a minute for me?"

Somehow Maxim couldn't scratch the smile from his face today,
Nadine thought when he watched him later in the storeroom. And
so exactly Maxim was feeling indeed. Despite the tiff, not answered
and unasked questions he was happy. Somehow he had woken up as
part of a union. And he felt much better since he had promised himself
to help Chris with his family problems. That Christian didn't want
help he didn't consider in the least.

     "What happened to you today? You look so happy", she said finally,
leaning against the wall. "Had a good night?"

     "Serious", Maxim said, leaning his back against the cool wall beside
her, pushing his hands into the trousers' pockets. Despite her boorish
words Nadine was a buddy he could rely on always.

     "Ok." The impish glistening vanished from Nadine's eyes. "I'm all
ears."

     "Well, it's nothing special actually. I just need to tell somebody.
You know Chris had gone alone yesterday. Well, he came back and
was somehow peculiar." He throw a wary look at her if she listened.
"Drunken?" she asked.

     "No, nothing like that. The opposite. Drunken for self-pity  or so.
Anyhow, he was very gentle", Maxim breathed deeply. "I've found an
old photo of his family. All together you know, mother, father, kids.
Late in the night I've found him pretty upset and somewhat out of
control. Out of his mind in the armchair where he must had examined
the photo."

     "Hm. You think there's a connection? Haven't you told me that his
mother had commit suicide?"

     "Yes. He said it was his fault. He's guilty for her death." He didn't
look at Nadine but he could feel physically her mind reeling.

     "So he said? I think that was metaphorically meant." She paused a
second. "But when he feels guilty there must be a trigger to feel so.
Something must have happened." She turned to look into Maxim's
face. "You haven't chosen exactly an easy going lover, honey. I
guess he has some deep problems he tries to hide." She ruffled his
hair. "I wished I could help you, but how?"

     "You know, I like to speak with Philipp, perhaps he knows more.
He lived with Chris for four years so he must know something
about the family's state."

Nadine nodded briefly. "But I doubt that Chris has told him when
he's so affected still. This must be a secret hidden deeply in his
heart, don't you think?"

     "And Martin?"

     "The twin?" Nadine shrugged. "Twins are thick as thieves. He
won't tell you."

     "They aren't thick as thieves, Nadine. I wouldn't say they hate
each other, but they aren't close. Despite all things I've heard
about twins."

    "Exceptions confirm the rule. Well, I'd try with Phil first."

On cue Philipp peeped through the door. "What you're doing
here alone, eh? Naughty, indescribable things??"

     "Shove off, Phil", Nadine and Maxim said in unison.

     "Hey, I'd like to invite you to a drink after work. Celebrate my
 new job!"

Nadine and Maxim looked at each other. They understood one
another without words and nodded.

                          * * * * *

It was after eight when they locked the door. A pub was just across
the street. It was a smoke filled, large room with Irish fiddle music
playing in the background and a mixed audience; today mostly elder
men waiting for the guys coming out of the bookshop to check them
out or invite them to whatever.

They found an empty round table and Philipp ordered stout. "Have
you called Chris to tell him you'll be late?" he asked. "He doesn't
like surprises."

     "What do you mean?" Maxim asked.

Philipp bit his tongue. "Never mind." He hesitated. "When I was
with him, he always wanted to know where I am and with whom and
what I was doing. Not that I minded those days."

     "Aha. And later you minded."

Nadine tossed him her mobile phone. "Better you call", she said.
Maxim looked at the phone and took it after a while. Actually he
found it embarrassing but Nadine involved Philipp into a chat and
so Maxim had privacy. He felt Tim's dark eyes though resting
upon him, but it didn't bother him. Christian's voice cooled down a
few degrees when Maxim told him that he was with Philipp. "So he
got the job, right? Well, in the end Philip always gets what he wants.
When can I expect you?"

     "I won't be late."

     "Hurry up, then. I miss you." Christian hung up.

Tim was still looking at him. He had hardly touched his beer.
Maxim knew that beer wasn't exactly Tim's cup of tea and stout
was pretty heavy. Maxim smiled at him across the table. "Writing
another novel?" he asked him.

     "I'm gathering stuff. It should be a real novel, not just a motley
collection of stories."

     "What about?"

Tim threw a side glance at Philipp. He remembered their talk and if
he could work Maxim's and Christian's story into a novel. Out of the
question of course. And besides, did he have enough knowledge and
what was there to write about actually? There was neither a crime
involved nor any other interesting things. Just hints. And a big love
story perhaps. A skeleton of a plot.

     "I still don't know. It's difficult to find an interesting
story line." His eyes went astray. He met winking eyes of elder men
and he looked quickly away. Not that these approaches didn't make him
smile inwardly.

Christian wasn't the topic anymore this evening and when Tim started
to yawn Maxim took the opportunity to close the round.

     "You can drive with me if you want", Philipp said to Maxim. "We
have the same direction."

     "And you with me", Nadine said. Tim nodded.


Maxim stepped into Philipp's little Nissan, surprised that he had a
car. "Gift from Chris in the old, happy days. What has he given you
already?"

A concert piano, Maxim wanted to say but he was silent. He stared
pensively at Philipp. Both now shared the same secrets. The same
knowledge. Phil knew that Christian was a good lover. And Maxim
was pretty demanding in this direction. He decided to take the bulls
by the horns and said straight away, "For me it's odd to sit here with
you, my predecessor with Chris. We share the same things. The most
odd thing is I like you."

     "Why shouldn't you like me? I'm no danger for you. I won't dispute
your right, you know. You can have and keep him." He glanced at
Maxim while he started to drive. "Well of course it's somewhat funny",
he added. "I mean I had my reasons to end this relationship. Thus I'm
interested how are you doing, you see? On the other hand I don't want
to interfere nor influence you. Chris is pissed that I'm now your
colleague, am I right?"

     "You're right.  Is he afraid you'd tell me dirty secrets?"

Another glance from Phil. "Not exactly dirty." He hesitated. "Maxim,
I want you to know, that you can talk to me if you're in need. 'You will
be in need' he thought to himself. "You won't be too ashamed then,
promise?"

     "I don't think this will be necessary."

They fell silent for a while. Then Maxim said. "I have a question. Do
you know about Chris' parents?"

     "Sure. His father's a swine."

Swine? Wasn't this Chris' last night's words?

     "He married the heir of a large pharmacy factory and made career.
Actually he was just assistant in the laboratory development. Then he
became boss of the  department, later he belonged to the board of
directors."

     "Well, he wasn't the first man making career in marrying the right
 woman."

  "Right. I once met him at his birthday party. When he saw me he
almost had me thrown out of the house. Having two gay sons he
thought his clean record could havegotten a dirty mark. He feared
for his reputation would be compromised.If neither wouldn't sire an
offspring, who would inherit the enterprise?"

     "Inherit? Does he owns the factory now?"

Philipp nodded. "Of course, after his wife was dead, the factory was
his. His parents-in-law died by a helicopter crash in the Grand Canyon."

Maxim's head swirled. "And Chris' mother. Do you know anything
about her death?"

     "She drowned in a lake."

Maxim sent a desperate look up to the car's ceiling. "Gosh, I know
that! Everybody answers my question the same. What I mean is, WHY
has she commit suicide?"

Phil didn't answer. From Martin he knew that it was about jealousy.
That she had hit her husband occasionally. Hit and threaten.


When they approached the towers of the Potsdamer Platz Philipp kept
to the right and stopped the car. He wind down the window. A cool
breeze swept through the car. "Are you suspicious about something?"
he asked.

     "Nadine thought I should start with you. Yesterday Chris reacted
strange to an old family photo. I wasn't sure if the trigger was his father
or his mother. He wouldn't tell me. He just asks me not to ask about
his past. But it makes me curious, you see?"

     "I see. But I can't help you. I know nothing more than you. Has Tim
told you I met Gregor, Chris' ex-lover?"

Maxim nodded. "The plump, blond one at Tim's reading. Do you think
he knows more?"

     "Definitely he knows more. He made hints about the scars, about
Gregor's own accident."

     "Accident?"

Philipp shrugged. "I hope to find out more when we'll meet next."

     "Good. Chris said it was his fault that his mother's dead."

     "He said this?" Philipp asked surprised. He watched people
streaming out of a cinema. The sinking sun shrouded them into a
rosy light, blurring the contours.

     "Listen, Maxim, Perhaps we put more secrets into Chris' past
than there are. If I were you, I would leave it alone and enjoy living
with him. If you're nice you'll get everything from him. All of his
time and all his love."

     "I'm not a good working puppet." Maxim said. "I'm not always nice
It's not exactly matured when you deny yourself just to please your
lover. I'm a human; I have the right  to have bad days."

Phil looked at him. "You're right it's not mature", he said slowly.
"I was too young to stand up for myself."

     "You talk in riddles. Has it to do with your earlier remark about the
phone call?"

     "Well, Chris likes to have everything under control. It's a sign of
affection when he wants to know everything that concerns you."

     "But he never returns something back in this direction."

     "As I said, you'll get everything you want from him."

Maxim breathed out unsatisfied with Philipp's answer. "Will you tell
me at least about your meeting with Gregor?"

     "Of course."


In a tree beside them birds gathered for their night's rest. "Are you
still dating Tim?" Maxim asked after a while.

Philipp grinned. "We figured out we're not in love with each other.
Just good friends."

     "With a one-night-stand", Maxim chuckled.

     "Yeah." Philipp eyed Maxim from aside. He wondered if Maxim
was really that blind not to see Tim was hopelessly in love with him.
But he held his tongue. He wanted to keep Maxim's innocence as
long as he could.

     "Don't forget Maxim, if you need help or an open ear, I'm here
for you."

Maxim smiled. "Now you're two. Nadine said the same."

Philipp returned the smile.

     "Have you warmed my old bed with a new lover?"

Philipp laughed. "Not yet. I thought about Erik."

     "Oh no! You can't sink that low."

     "He's following me whenever he sees me! You think I'm in danger?"

     "Danger for your virginity?" Maxim scoffed, before both snorted.

     "Well, I better go. Thanks for lending me your ear."

     "Anytime."