Date: Tue, 13 May 2003 13:59:22 EDT
From: SSch191950@aol.com
Subject: Made in Heaven, chapter 12

MADE IN HEAVEN
by Stefan

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Chapter 12: Scare myself to death


"Sigmund Freud described it as "green monster" nobody was immune to.
Jealousy is not only a dangerous feeling but countless offences of
passion, crime and murder results from jealousy. Jealousy doesn't
bother with logic. Many murder did, paradoxically, their deeds out
of despair: they killed NOT the rival but their woman because they
didn't want to lose them."

Tim scrolled down the text he read on the monitor of his computer.
"Pathologic jealousy contributes nothing to the solution of a
problem, and is not related to a real situation. It doesn't wear
off, but exists permanent or flashes once and again with old
tempestuousness, without a concrete cause."

It was dark in his room except for the screen  that illuminated Tim's
face. He had his windows all opened like he had the door to feel some
air moving, but it didn't help much. It was too sultry this evening.
He stood up to gather his thoughts, went to the window and peered
through the fly screen Moritz had attached on each window in the
house. He knew that the mosquitoes were keen to slurp Tim's sweet
blood as he always stressed with a winking eye. Tobias always added
that it wasn't sweet blood but sexual hormones, which would mean that
Tim was VERY sexy... Tim grinned. A second later it vanished. He
pondered the content of the scientific websites.  "Meaning pathologic
jealousy, the psychiatrists are speaking of the "Othello-Syndrome"."
Typical for them was the constant "checking" because there were doubts
about the faithfulness of the partner. Letters were opened, telephone
calls were made, digging in pockets, and private detectives were used.
Oh gosh, this all sounded so over the top. Tim had his doubts that
Chris was such a maniac. Although he remembered well his spying when
Tim and Maxim had been out to Joost's performance.

He breathed deeply and returned to his computer.  "Psychoanalysts
give these reasons for a pathologic jealousy: First: not enough love,
warmth and security in childhood, second: doubts of self-esteem, third:
a not effective mastered, normal jealousy of a child to his following
siblings."

Hm. None of this seemed to fit Christian. Tim didn't know enough
about his childhood. Wasn't he loved enough by his parents? Did
they reject him? Why should they?

Was Christian jealous of Martin because his twin was receiving more
love from his parents? Perhaps.

Christian should have inferiority complexes? Impossible with his
brilliant look and with his successful job. There must be a fourth
aspect. Tim leaned back. He wished Christian would never read
Killing me softly. He didn't know what he was writing there, it
was dynamite in wrong hands, and Christian certainly had the
wrong hands. How odd Tim had been able to express the actions
of a sick person so well without consulting those websites or get
psychological advice.  But what would happen if the real Christian
would copy the actions of a fictive Carsten? Surely Carsten wasn't
a murderer. But there was little that decided him from being one.

But all this presupposed one thing: Maxim had to fall in love with
another man to get this machine going. And so far there was no
reason to worry about that. Sure, today Maxim was somewhat
depressive, but this could just be a temporary tiff that meant nothing,
and, if there would ever exist a chance for Tim, he would have sensed
it. The signs were clear: there weren't any.

There was a knock at his open door. "Come in", Tim said and turned upon
his chair. Moritz stood in the door frame. Behind him he could make
out the figure of Tobias. "We'd like to speak to you", Moritz started.

     "What is it? Serious problems?" Tim's heartbeat quickened.

     "Serious yes, problems no", Tobias said, sitting on Tim's couch,
Moritz leaving a space between them. "Sit down, hon", he said and
patted the seat of the couch. Tim went slowly over, trying to read
their faces before he sat between the two men. "Do you think our
little household is working well?" Tobias started. "I mean, not that
you're influenced. You live your own life."

Tim looked at him. He had a good face, trustworthy and unflappable.
He was strong, not just physically. Tim nodded. What did he want
to say?

     "We live in the damned seventh year", Moritz started and grinned
at both. "And so.... We have decided to make nails with head and
marry."

It was like the hit of a bombshell for Tim, but very quickly joy replaced
the surprise. "You dare to marry? Oh my god!" he screamed almost.
He jumped up from the couch and stood in front of them, looking
alternating into their faces.

     "Yes, why not? It means security, for all of us. Well..." Moritz
hesitated, "of course there's your mother, so you won't be alone
if something should ever happen to us."

     "I'd liked to adopt you," Tobias chimed in, "but I don't think
Ellen would allow this. Anyway, you can keep your name of course.
I'll take over Moritz' name." He grinned. "This means, we all will be
family officially."

     "When?" Tim said breathless. This idea had come so unsuspected
and surprisingly.

     "At your birthday in October?"

Tim nodded stupidly, making the men grin. They rose. Tim vanished
almost in their embrace. "You've lost weight", Tobias noticed, feeling
 his body. "Trouble?"

     "Let's go out", Tim said instead.

     "Now? It's after 10."

     "So what?" Tim's eyes sparkled. "I know a posh bar with piano
music. You both can dance and get mushy and I'll watch. Say yes."

Tobias and Moritz looked at each other.  And agreed finally. Passing
the computer Moritz looked at the monitor and caught some words.
He stopped. "Stuff for your new novel?"

     "Sort of. Well, actually no. You know I've worked the theme
jealousy already into a story."

     "And now you search for a confirmation that everything is right
with what you've written?" Moritz grinned. "That's what I call good
research!" He laughed high-spirited and dragged his son down the
staircase. Tobias stood already half naked in front of the wardrobe
and examined his clothes. Tim peered around the corner, admired
Tobias' arse cheeks and withstood the urge to pinch them. His father
wouldn't be amused.

Tobias dragged him beside and Tim pulled out - as to the manner born -
a pair of cream-coloured cotton trousers and a loose, falling, matching
shirt. He stuffed it into the trouser, and opened its buttons once
Tobias had closed them all. "Give the guys something to goggle",
he smirked.


Dario goggled indeed when Tim turned up with his father and his
lover. But as much as the barkeeper asked Tim didn't give away his
complicated family situation. He snorted. Complicated, huh! Tobias
and Moritz loved each other and wanted to get married, wasn't that
clean and old-fashioned enough? Dario mixed him a cocktail which
name he didn't give away and examined the younger man. His
company of older men seemed to enjoy the bar and the music. Too
bad, Maxim wasn't here tonight. He had promised to come tomorrow,
because his birthday was on the weekend. Dario had tried to persuade
him to celebrate here; Maxim hadn't refused yet, but neither had he
accepted. He leaned over the bar "Still fancy our piano player?"

     "Huh?" Tim grabbed his drink and sniffed.  "What's this? Cucumber
with radish?"

Dario had to laugh. "Just the best for you. No, you can drink it, it's
not poisoned."

     "How do you know I fancy your piano player?" Tim said a little
aggressive.

     "'Well, I have eyes to see'-- as Shakespeare said, 'I can see a
church by daylight'."

     "So he said? Oh well... Maxim's happy. Nothing what I can do
for it."

     "Well..." Dario wiped a glass. "There's always something you
can do when you're hot for somebody."

     "I'm not HOT for him", Tim stressed and finished his cocktail.
"You forgot the alcohol in there", he complaint.

     "Are you allowed to drink in presence of your father?" Dario
teased him. When Tim wanted to say how would he know about
his father, Dario grinned. "I'm right. I've eyes to see. You have
the same eyes and lashes. I'd die for your lashes." Dario fluttered
with his own.

     "You don't try to flirt with me, eh?" Tim said, turning his back
on him and searched for his parents. Yeah, in two month they
would be his real parents. Abruptly he turned again. "What did
you mean with the 'things I can do' when I'm in love?"

     "Well, it's not that difficult to get a man into bed, is it? Just
continue to flutter with your eyes."

Tim looked him up and down. "Can you mix me something real?
And then tell me how to get a man into your bed who's so in love
with another. It's impossible."

Dario laughed heartily. "Oh honey, that's the easiest exercise of
all. If he's in love he's permanent horny. Make him close his eyes,
go into his pants and he won't notice the difference."

     "Pants and bed aren't the same."

     "Right." Dario pondered while mixing apricot juice with Southern
Comfort. "Make him drunk. But without getting drunk yourself like
the last time."

Tim sighed loudly. "Forget it. I don't want to make him drunk. He
wouldn't  know it's me. How could he fall then in love with me?"

     "What high intellectual conversation you're leading", Moritz
leaned against his son and looked at Dario. "Can I have a cola
please?" And to Tim: "Whom do you want to make fall in love
with you? Maxim? It's still him?"

     "Where's Tobias?"

     "Toilet."

     "Do you remember the treatise about jealousy?" Tim asked
suddenly and as low as it was possible with the dance music.
"After work we've been with Gregor. That's Christian's ex-lover.
He told us some things regarding their relationship. I fear Maxim's in
danger."

     "What?" Moritz groped for his cola glass, drank and wiped
his wet fingers at his trousers. "Why danger?" Moritz remembered
their first and only meeting at Tobias' birthday some weeks ago.
Per incident he had had the pleasure to meet them both: the dark
Maxim and the fair Christian. A pair not possible to be more
different. Christian left a good impression.

     "Are you sure Gregor isn't exaggerating to appear important
and perhaps raise your interest?"

Tim looked at him with surprise. Well, this possibility he hadn't
considered so far. But it might be. But would a student of the
law lie? Crap, of course he would if he'd had advantage. Tim
shrugged. "To us it sounded all credible. Why should he invent
those horror stories?"

     "Who's telling horror stories?" Tobias had returned and looked
now at the barkeeper who was busy with filling some drinks.

     "Gregor said Chris suffers from pathologic jealousy."

     "Wait," Moritz lifted his hand. "It reminds me of "Killing me
softly". The guy got mad when his love cheated on him. This
was also sort of a pathologic jealousy. That's the reason you've
searched the net?"

Tim nodded.

     "I have an idea", Dario said suddenly. "Tell Maxim about this
lunatic and he will be yours."

All three turned to the bartender, swinging a towel over his
shoulder, looking innocently. "Who said you should perk up
your ears", Tim said miffed.

     "But, listen, honey", Dario leaned closer. "You can't be that
cruel to leave your beloved one in the house of a madcap, can
you. I know jealousy, and my experiences are the worst ever, I
can tell you. They've thrown beer glasses after me, I've had to
 jump out of the window to escape, I had to move into another
town, change my name and my telephone number! It's not fun,
believe me." His lion eyes were surprisingly serious.

     "What shall I do?"

Dario pulled a face, saying nothing. "What exactly did Gregor say?"
Moritz asked after a while.

     "Stories about fights, suicide attempts, rape."

Moritz moaned. "Evidences?"

     "Scars."

     "That's no evidence."

     "Hospital files and papers. Talks with a psychiatrist."

     "You can't ask them. I mean, you can but you won't get answer."

     "And Gregor's advice?" Tobias' asked.

     "Wait and drink tea. Which reminds me, Dario, do you want to
glue my teeth? That's so sticky." He pointed to the drink in his
hands.

     "At least it has apricot in it. I thought you're keen on vegetables."

     "What things don't you know about?" Tim said more amazed
than angry.  Dario grinned discreetly.


                             * * * * * *

Saturday and with it his birthday came sooner than he had thought.
Everyone of his colleagues urged him not to come to work,
but he did even if he was sent home after a bit to prepare for whatever
type of party he had in mind.

His friends and colleagues didn't seem to fit very well to Chris.
Somehow he had the certain feeling, nobody could stand his lover,
and they seem just to tolerate him for Maxim's sake. Somehow it
came down to this: Phil, Tim and Nadine OR Christian. He couldn't
have all together. Maxim felt helpless.

He looked upon all the gifts, placed on the table. Joost and Rainer's
tickets for Joost's chanson-evening. It was a new program he didn't
perform as Zarah Leander but sang everything by Brecht and Weill.
On the top lay Robbie William's biography "Somebody, Someday".
Next to it "Hitler's Secret. Was he gay?", a gift from Tim. Maxim
grinned when his eyes touched Nadine's present "Kamasutra for
gays". Typical Nadine he thought lovingly. She thought perhaps
he could learn here something.

Maxim had refused Dario's offer to celebrate in the bar, although he
would have liked it. Christian was pretty secretive about his plans.
Surely they would see Maxim's parents, it was out of the question
not to celebrate with them first.

Absentmindedly  he stroked Coco's fur, curled up in his lap. Tim's
parents would marry, although everybody considered both Moritz and
Tobias as his parents already. Maxim thought this was a courageous
step, and he certainly did not mean the fact that the couple was
two men.  To Maxim's understanding one should marry if he was
convinced it was for a lifetime. But who could say this?
He couldn't read the future and to give a promise one was unable
to hold to him it seemed was given in vain.

Christian came out of the bedroom and embraced him from behind. For his
birthday he had given him all the little "nothings" that were so lovely
and Maxim liked them more than one big, expensive present. Except one:
he had given him a cellular phone and that was indeed something useful.
"Tim's father and his partner will marry", he blurted out pretty
unmotivated but he felt he had to say it.

     "Do they? Great. I always wanted to marry, but couldn't."

Maxim turned and almost bumped with Christian's face. "Why
would you do this?"

     "Affection?" Christian suggested. "Show the world you're mine
and will never belong to another?"

    "Well, there's the possibility of a divorce still", Maxim said.
"Whom do you wanted to marry then? Phil? You thought him unfaithful."

Christian went around him. His steps took room as if he would be angry.
"It's just a piece of paper, isn't it", he said then. "But it has a
special meaning. Look at us, why aren't we allowed to marry? Because
the church says, faggots are dirty perverts and the governments took
over this opinion, at least rulers aren't free from a Christly belief.
Do you think it would had been possible to have an open gay mayor let's
say twenty years ago? And then think about how long homosexuality
exists. As long as humankind exists! I bet one of the first
Neanderthal was gay too." He grinned, suddenly relaxed and happy. He
kneeled in front of Maxim and stretched out his hand to stroke Coco.
The cat's ears jerked in his sleep but he didn't wake up. "So, don't
you think this is our time finally? Once someone said 'Love is love.
It doesn't matter whom you love. There's too little love in the world
anyway.'"

     "And you want to state an example? Chris, you don't do it for the
others."

     "I know. Nonetheless." He rose. "Are you invited?"

     "Sure, you too."

     "Well, then we should look for a tailcoat; which reminds me,
shouldn't we get ready for your parents?"



Maxim's parents had a flat at the outskirts of Berlin. It had developed
 by and by into a quarter of Russian emigrants. Christian saw tower
blocks, newly renovated and sprayed with ugly graffiti again,  and
balconies, overstuffed with plants. Before he got lost in the labyrinth
of long streets, Maxim piloted him to the right place.

After the air-conditioned car, the heat met them with the strike of a
wet cloth on the face. Teenagers hung around, not knowing what to do.
Christian caught the guttural vocals of the Russian language. "Does
your granny speaks German?" he asked. "You told me she's Russian."

     "Sure she can, but not perfectly. My grandpa spoke German."

Christian felt nervous. He wasn't used to those 'presenting his
credentials' with parents-in-law. Phil had never managed his coming-
out and Gregor's he had only known as suffocating-caring people who
had watched their little sunshine until he had met them again in court
where he had to endure the charge of manslaughter. Suddenly he was
cold.

He followed Maxim into the silvery tin of the new elevator. Maxim smiled
at him. And tugged at his stark white shirt. "Nervous?" he asked and
gave him a kiss.

     "You bet."

Andris awaited them in front of his door. He pulled his son into his
arms, hugged him and murmured into his ears. Behind his back Christian
saw a woman with long hair, black like raven's wings. She smiled and he
pressed a little bunch of summer flowers into her hand. "You must be
Christian", she said, putting her long nose into the flowers. Like Maxim
she spoke with a little hard accent. Then he had to shake Andris' hand
before all of them were pushed into the flat and complimented into the
living room.

     "I'm sure you both have better things to do later than to enjoy a
family gathering, don't you?" Andris said, winking. "But it's a
pleasure for us you came." He spoke to Christian who didn't know what
to say. He tried his charming smile at the mother that didn't fail its
intention. His eyes followed her when she went into the kitchen that
was attached to the living room, only separated by a colourful curtain
of strings of pearls. She was large and slender and dressed in a black
dress. Her son was her spitting image.

Maxim went straight to the large door that lead to the balcony.
Christian heard chattering, and Andris motioned him to follow. Under
a jungle of plants Maxim's grandmother sat, her grandson in her arms.
Christian was somehow touched by the obvious heartiness of this family.
He heard clattering of crockery coming from the kitchen, albeit the
table here was already laid. The chairs vanished almost between
nasturtium, pansies, begonias, hibiscus and amaryllis. At the walls
climbed peas, beans and tomatoes; radish and cucumbers in big bowls.
The soft blue umbels of a hydrangea touched his leg. It smelled
intoxicatingly of Jasmine.

     "Look, here's Christian", Maxim said and gave free the view of
a stately woman with faded blond hair she had bound into a large bun.
Despite the warmth she wore a coloured scarf around her shoulders, the
fringes covering her respectable breasts. Christian shook her hand and
put a small box of exquisite chocolates into her other hand. He thought
it would be impolite to leave her out. She smiled and revealed several
golden teeth. Her sapphire-stone eyes though pierced him carefully.
Christian felt something deep in his stomach. It wasn't a pleasant
feeling.

     "Please sit down", Andris said behind him, holding a coffee pot
in hand. "It's too hot outside, isn't it. But we say, drink something
warm and you'll cool down."

Christian sat down in one of the very comfortable chairs. He still
felt the eyes of the old woman. Maxim's mother arrived with a black
and yellow cake. A thick candle was burning in the middle of it.
"That's Russian Zupfkuchen", she said proudly. "The original recipe."
And, to her son: "Blow out the candle and wish something."

Maxim hesitated for a moment, then locked his eyes with Christian's
and blew the candle.



During the next hour Christian learnt a lot about the problems Russian
emigrants had in Germany and about the problems Germans had with
the Russians. Marija and Andris worked for the Harmonie-association
that was sponsored by the national interior ministry. They helped people
who had problems with the language, with forms and with the authorities.
They worked also as translators and tried to integrate Berliner and
emigrants by having kaffeeklatsches.

Christian's head swirled. Did he want to know all this? But Maxim's
parents were too loveable not to be interested or just to claim
interest. With the same enthusiasm they wanted to know everything that
concerned himself. He told them more than he wanted. And, above all,
shouldn't it be the way a marriage should work?

Christian looked into Marija's black, almond eyes and another face
appeared before his inner eye. A long, stern face. Pale, the eyes of a
hungry cat: his mother's face.  She was warm hearted when she was
busy with her children. He had laughed with her, had listened when
she had read out children's books. And he was  convinced that it
always had been him - not Martin - who was the nearest to her heart.
After all,  she wanted to die with him, wasn't that proof enough for
her big love? She wanted Chris to accompany  her travel into heaven,
not his twin.

Christian eyes veiled and for a second he swayed in his chair. Maxim
next to him took his arm and held him. "Are you too hot?" he asked
concerned. Christian blinked and found the dark blue eyes of the old
woman fixed on him. "It's nothing. Indeed a little too hot."

Marija jumped up and bought him a glass with cool water.  "Shall we go
in?"

     "No, please, it's alright." He felt embarrassed.

     "Your gifts, darling", Marija said finally and gave her mother-
in-law a sign. The old woman rose a little sluggish and went to the
corner of the balcony. She beckoned Maxim to follow her. Christian
saw plants in pretty bowls, decorated with ribbons. "That's for your
home", she said. "Lemon tree, a date palm and a mango."

     "Gosh! All self-grown?" Maxim bent down and lifted the bowls.
"That's so great."

     "Of course self-grown. You have a terrace, don't you."

     "Mother has a green thumb as you can see", Andris said, pointing
to the jungle around him. "She puts the kernels into earth and it
grows  so fast that  you can watch."

Maxim unwrapped some other parcels, all needful things. Maxim would
have good use of them.

Suddenly the rest of the family had vanished and Christian felt alone
with the old woman. He helped her to her chair. "The back, you know,"
she said low. "Too much of hard work from my childhood on".

When she sat back she offered him one of her chocolates. Christian
didn't refuse. They were silent for a while. From the streets came
the noise of playing kids, and birds sang ardently in the trees.
What could he tell her. He felt watched. But before it was getting
embarrassing she said suddenly "You are haunted."

Christian started.

     "You have had bad experiences. You still suffer." It wasn't
questions but statements. "Will you make my grandson happy? He
deserves to be happy."

The piece of chocolate in Christian's mouth tasted bitter. He didn't
know what to answer. He couldn't agree she was right. That very
moment he was determined to make her grandson happy. He always had
good intentions.

     "Answer me."

     "Well, of course. I love Maxim."

     "Chris? Are you bringing the bowls?" Maxim called and Christian
jumped up. "Gotta go", he said, "it was a pleasure to have met you."

She nodded.


Back in their car, Christian breathed a sign of relief. Maxim laughed.
"Was it that bad?"

     "No. But its always hard, to meet the parents of your lover the
first time, don't you think." He started the engine. "How many parents
have you met?"

     "Not that many."

     "Your parents are so... Relaxed. Aren't they upset you're ...
different? My father is just ... he doesn't care. I mean he ignores
me. Us. Martin and me."

Maxim next to him patted his thigh. "And your mother? Would she have
ignored you then?"

Christian started. "I don't know", he whispered. "She loved me without
a reason."

     "Like all mothers do. Granny's pretty fond of flowers and plants.
She cared for the vegetable garden back at home. Although we hadn't
such a luxurious stuff. It was rather potatoes and leek."

Christian again felt the blue eyes piercing his mind. Perhaps she had
Bohemian blood, although she didn't look Bohemian.

     "Mother said she likes you", Maxim chatted away. "We should return
the invitation soon, what do you think?" He looked at Christian whose
face was pale under the tan. "Don't you feel well? It's been several
times now lately you seem to faint. Perhaps you should see a doc."

     "Nonsense", Christian said sharply. "It's just the heat. Now,
could you please hold your mouth for a minute or two?"

Maxim was miffed. Christians changes of mood was getting on his nerves.
He didn't say a word until they arrived at their home. Wordless he removed
the plants from the backseat and carried them up.

Coco sat by the door and sniffed at the lemon tree. "That's nothing for
you, sweetie", Maxim said. He went straight up to the roof and pondered
briefly where to put them. He heard footsteps behind him. Christian was
there, standing forlorn.

     "Sorry, Maxim. I just had to think."

     "It's ok." Maxim sat the bowls next to the swimming pool. "Do you think
they look good here?"

     "The love for plants comes from your granny, right?"

     "Right." Maxim examined his work and then opened his shirt. He stripped
down naked and sat at the rim of the pool. "Come, it's really too hot."

Christian shed all of his clothes too and followed him. At the far horizon
the sky turned into a leaden grey. The day had been unbearable sultry.
Still the sky over Berlin was without any clouds. Down in the flat, Coco
ran from one room to the other, alarmed, and vanished finally under the
blanket of the bed.


When night fell Christian appeared with burning candles upon the terrace,
placing them on the table next to the pool and putting a white rose on Maxim's
place. Glasses and a bottle of wine followed. When Maxim appeared he grinned.
He watched him taking up the rose, smelling its scent. "White with dark red
rims at the petals", Maxim said and  his heart melted away. "How nice of you."

     "Happy Birthday." Christian said.

Something was attached to the stem. A little parcel. Heavy. Maxim plucked
it and removed the paper. It was a dark blue box. He gave Christian a look
before he opened it. A pair of silvery rings shone softly in the candle light.
Maxim breathed in sharply. Those rings he had seen before. In Chris' glass
case.

Christian leaned forward. "I know how you think about marriage and all,
Maxim. I've understood your point. You need more time. All I want is you
to wear this ring. It gives me hope."

Maxim looked alternating at the ring in his hand and at Christian. He looked
serious and he didn't blink. How could he strike off his plea. He cleared
his throat. "Does it mean we're engaged now?"

     "If you like to call it this way." He nodded.

Without thinking Maxim took Christian's hand and shoved the ring over
his left ring finger. It was a perfect fit. Christian stared at it and did
then the same . "I love you", he said with rough voice, then he lifted his
glass and clinked it with Maxim's.

In the distance thunder rumbled. Both didn't notice. Their fingers were
intertwined. Maxim wished this night would never end. He wished Christian
would always be like now. Not submerged in a land where he couldn't follow.

     "A pair shouldn't have secrets", he said low. "Are you ready to tell me
about your family?"

 "You are haunted"... the voice of the old woman echoed in Christian's ears.
"We were a happy family", he started then uncertain. His glass was empty .
He refilled it. It was a lie anyway. They were unhappy. His mother was
unhappy. "My mother was the heir of a factory here in Berlin. She met
my father at an annual do. She fell in love with him instantly. Do you
believe in love at first sight?

Maxim shook his head.

     "My mother did. He was assistant in a laboratory. She wanted just
him, only him. My grandfather wasn't amused. But she was persistent
and so they married. My grandfather had insisted on separation of
property. So he could be sure he didn't want just her money."

A first cool wind was blowing; the candles flickered, and little waves ripped
the surface of the water in the swimming pool. Christian opened another
bottle and filled the glasses. "Of course he wasn't after mother's money.
Her dad made sure he had a career. First he was leader of the department."
Christian washed away his glass and filled it again. "Then he was on the
board of directors and later partner of the enterprise.  Then he spent more
time on golf-places than at his office."

At home, although the twins weren't exactly involved, they did feel a
bad vibration that made them stick together when hearing their mother's
screaming and hysterical shouting, when the father came home, but what it
was about, they didn't know. In their innocent seven years old hearts they
couldn't grasp what it meant when Martin had caught the father in bed with
a foreign woman. Christian didn't grasp when he saw his mother viciously
checking the pockets of her husbands clothes. What was she looking for
there?

Now, twenty one years later, he knew. He knew that his father had betrayed
his mother and that she was unhappy. Her feeling transferred to him and
so he wasn't mad with her when she wanted to die with him. The pain
would be over then.

     "And then?" he heard Maxim ask. The thunder rumble came closer. The
stars had vanished. Christian shivered. His glass was empty again and he
felt dizzy in his head. That night he had sworn to himself he wouldn't allow
this pain evermore. He would keep his lovers. That he hadn't succeed so
far made him mad at himself.

     "You'll stay with me, don't you?"

First drops of rain splashed to the ground and extinguished the candles.
Maxim quickly gathered the glasses and his rose, took Christian's hand
and ran with him downstairs. "You think the plants will suffer?" he asked.

     "Not that badly. Perhaps the little ones you got today."

Maxim went instantly up again and returned soaked with the bowls.
"Cloudburst", he panted. Water dripped from his hair.

Christian's eyes were glazed from wine. Maxim looked so sexy - the wet
clothes clung to his body like a second skin. This awoke desire in Christian.
Quickly he took away the plants and peeled off all of Maxim's clothes.
He licked the drops from Maxim's brows, from his earlobes, like he licked
the rest of his body. Maxim moaned surprised and didn't stop him.

     "Say you'll never leave me. Say it." Christian's movements were urging and
somewhat brutal, his hands all over Maxim. He then pushed Maxim to the carpet
and opened the fly of his trousers. "I want you so badly. That's what you
wanted to hear for longer than a year", he hissed into Maxim's ear, "Isn't
that the truth?" His hand opened Maxim's legs. Careless he pushed a finger
into his anus and Maxim yelped.  "You have me now and I want you to stay."

Maxim struggled.

     "Say it! Say you love me. Say you will stay with me."

     "Christian! Stop it!"

Christian lay with his whole bodyweight upon him. "Say it", he hissed.
Maxim pushed him away. "What's the matter with you?" He came to his
feet. "Are you drunk?" He looked down on Christian,  his face flushed,
trousers open. His stiff cock peered out.

Maxim left him without a word. His legs wobbled when he vanished in the
shower and washed away Christian's brutality. Was this his way to make
him stay for ever?" The ring blinked at his finger. He was close to removing
it. What a birthday.

The door opened and a flush of cool air streamed in, steam filled the cabin.
Maxim made an involuntarily defensiveness, but Christian took him tightly
into his arms and tolerated no struggle. His erection had gone and his eyes
were clear again. "I'm so sorry. It's the heat and alcohol. And your body.
And yourself. I can't stop wanting you."

     "But not that way", Maxim said coolly. "I'm not keen on hard sex."

Christian kissed his neck and shoulder. "I'll make up for it. Do with me
what you want."



Maxim found Coco deeply buried under the bedcovers. Outside thunder
and lightning alternated with each other. It was light enough to see the
stark white fur he pressed to his naked body. "Are you afraid, sweetie?
Let's stay here."

Christian didn't object. He cuddled as close as Maxim allowed. Maxim
was still too shocked. Was this the man he had fallen in love with? In
the flash of a lightning Maxim saw his profile. The antique profile with
the long, straight nose, the elegant lips, the tight chin. The delicate
curve of the cheekbone and the eye lashes moving. Christian didn't
sleep. He lay awake like Maxim himself, listening to the thunder over
Berlin and the incessantly drum of rain upon the roof.  On his side he
felt the cat's purring. At least he felt safe. One thing Maxim couldn't
maintain of himself. Not anymore. Not after Christian's outburst.

A hand came furtively over. He touched his skin and stroked his genitals.
"Come on, I said sorry already." Christian's voice was soft and tender.
Dripping with honey. But Maxim couldn't bring himself to forgive him,
let alone that his body could react to Christian's fondling. The purring
at his side had stopped. A quick movement and Christian left out a small
cry. "Ouch, damn!" He looked at his hand that showed four long scratches,
blood red.

     "Bloody cat." Christian swung his legs out of the bed and went around
it to the bath room. His hard cock was about to shrivel. Maxim heard him
rummaging in the shelves. Sighing he followed him. Coco meanwhile
made himself comfortable in the middle of the bed.

Maxim sat at the rim of the tub and watched Christian searching for
plaster. "Shall we talk about it or leave it?" he asked finally.

     "What do you want to talk about?" Christian had found the plaster.
"You won't make reproaches that I find you sexy and lose my mind over
you? I thought you'd know I need a lot of sex."

Maxim stood up and went slowly over to him. "Exactly. YOU need a lot
of sex. You don't ask me if I need the same."

     "You haven't left the impression you're frigid."

     "I'm speaking of now! Right NOW I don't want sex. You have to respect
it."

     "Pah." Christian tugged at the protection stripe with his teeth and put
the plaster over the wound. "You act like a little, nagging virgin." He
guided his light eyes to Maxim. "I really thought you'd feel the same."
Suddenly he laughed. "What we are doing here actually? I'm naked
and you're naked. I'm still horny like hell.  You aren't a woman wanted
to be conquered and pleaded and showered with pralines and flowers
and jewels before I can get bed her." He grinned. "That's the  fortune
of being gay. You must know, you've slept with them."

Maxim nodded briefly. His anger blew over. That was Christian's expression
of passion - perhaps. "I like the tender Christian better", he said then
conciliatorily. He stretched out his hand with the platinum band around
his finger. "The Christian who gave me this ring, telling me about love and
hope."

Christian took his hand and kissed it. "Let's go to bed."


     "Why you don't want sex?" he asked once they had Coco pushed aside
and stretched out under the blankets. Again Christian's fingers crept
between Maxim's legs.

     "You were in the middle of your home story", Maxim said. "I'd like to
hear the end. Your parents married, your father made career and cared
for golf. Then you both were born I suppose."

     "Listen, honey. You don't want sex and I don't want to tell you about
my parents. Ok? We are quits. And now let's sleep."


Thunder and lightning. The room was sometimes light as by day. Coco
purred again at his side. Maxim couldn't sleep. This was definitely
unmistakable: Chris didn't want to speak about his family. What had he
to hide there? If he'd try it with Martin to learn more? Philipp? He'd asked
him before and Philipp had been loyal. Or he knew nothing more than he
himself. Or Philipp didn't want to tell him about the reasons he left Chris.

Another thunderclap. Coco jerked at his side and he stroked soothingly
his fur. Christian's deep breathing told him he had fallen asleep finally.
But he lay there and the minutes dropped away. Suddenly he felt that he
didn't want to know what was wrong with the Kramer family. If the twins
liked to keep it until all eternity so be it.

He was thirsty, so he sneaked out of the bed, took the cat and went into
the kitchen. He filled a glass with water and stood at the window. The sky
was somehow lit by grey, torn clouds from them it poured down with a
vicious power. The rain came down almost horizontal. Trees were shaken
and leaves swirled through the air. The colourful balloon of the TV-sender
was pressed to the ground and the Reichstag had vanished behind a
curtain of rain. Coco, laying over his shoulder stared with big eyes through
the window pane. He blinked when another jagged lightning tore the skies.
Maxim was cold.

He looked for his bathrobe, put it on and sat with the cat into the leather
armchair. Neither he liked this nor the couch. It was too cold and
uncomfortable to sit on. Oddly Coco had chosen it for his favourite
place, but only because Maxim had put a woollen blanket upon the seat.

     "You can't stand my new lover, is this right?" Maxim said to the cat.
"Apparently all of my friends are reserved, except my parents may be.
But nobody knows him as well as I do".

Coco's blue eyes looked directly into his own as if he wanted to remind
him that Philipp knew Christian pretty much longer and better. And
altogether... Maxim did know nothing about Christian except the things
he wanted to see. For instance Christian's generosity, his enthusiasm
when he was busy with things that were of his interest. His fantasy.
His talent to speak poems. And he was a good lover. Maxim had the
best sex ever.

Coco still stared. Was this really all? What about the important things?
Loyalty? Magnanimity? Care, truth, sincerity? And what if he would
stand behind your back, embrace you, whisper 'I'm sorry, Maxim', carry
him to bed and fuck him as compensation? Like he has already done
several times? Have you forgotten the small, warning voice within you? The
voice that appeared when Christian and Philip had their quarrel and when
he - Christian - danced with you? Have you forgotten the intimidating-
dominating aura? Now this small voice is surpassed by the rosy glasses
you wear.

The thunderstorm had passed leaving only the torrential rain. Maxim
thought briefly what it would do to his oleander, but then he didn't care.
They would either survive or not. Perhaps this was the final break in weather
and cooler day would follow.

He wished he could take his holidays to travel far away with Christian.
This would do them good. Bored he took his cellular phone and played
with the functions. After a while he got the idea and started to  store all
of the numbers he knew. Coco had fallen asleep and it didn't take long
before Maxim followed him, softly accompanied by the rain, drumming
on the window sills.


Christian surprised him with a sumptuous breakfast but with no mention
of the past night. Maxim let it be. He was too tired to find out if Chris just
had a short memory, or if it was the alcohol - although he hadn't left a drunken
impression - or if it was just pure ignorance. He tried to answer him as normal
as he could. But down low, very low, a guest had joined their relationship:
mistrust.


Of course Christian hadn't forgotten a single word that had been spoken
last night. He felt a wall coming up on him, or like the pendulum in Poe's
story. With each swing and with each second that passed, it approached
more and more the place over his heart. First it ripped the surface of his
clothes, then his skin and then finally there was a clean cut, parting the
bones of his ribs, protecting that what was under them.  His heart would
lay open, unprotected at the mercy of all mishaps and all misunderstandings.

Maxim asked too much, probably stirred up or spurred on by Philipp.
Philipp wanted to sow discord, a whiff of mistrust that would only
have to be lit with skilful words in low doses until it would burn with the
power of a forest fire. Yes. Philip had sneaked into Maxim's to now
begin his work of destruction. He must be stopped.


The first thing he would do was to talk with him. Tomorrow.
While he was smiling into Maxim's face his mind started to work out
a plan. There was no way Philipp would separate him from Maxim. This time
he would keep his lover. Meanwhile it didn't matter who the lover was, as
long as Christian succeeded in keeping him. There was too much he had
to make up for. For the death of his mother for instance, and he had to
prove his twin that he was able to lead a happy life. He had to prove to
Gregor, his parents, Maxim's grandmother.


Maxim wanted to take a drive. The weather had cooled down indeed and
the blue heaven was sprinkled with white clouds, and a pleasant wind blew
from the East. But Christian was lazy. He had to think about what to tell
Philipp, and so he used the excuse that he wanted  to finish Tim's story.
With the manuscript in hand he sat next to pool in a deckchair with his sunglasses
on his nose. Maxim had taken up Coco and watched him like a mother watched
her baby when he sneaked between the several bowls. But Coco never attempted
to nibble at them; he was still a clever cat and had learnt his lesson well.

Christian thought perhaps he should mix something from the leaves under Coco's
food to get rid of him. But he couldn't  bear Maxim's grief should Coco
die.  Then perhaps he would get another cat which couldn't stand
Christian either! And anyway... Coco wouldn't eat the
poisoned food anyway. Perhaps he would whisper into Maxim's ears
what a brute Christian was. He grinned. Sometimes he had the feeling
this cat could speak.


"Killing me softly

But he no longer made a fool of himself. Carsten had decided if the
soft tour didn't work, it had to be the hard. Sascha hadn't reacted to
all of his endeavours, although he was constantly friendly to Carsten, as if he
would feel a lot of pity. But to hell! Carsten didn't want pity. He wanted
back the old Sascha who had spent each single minute with him, each
night. He wanted sex with him! What was this game for then if not to
satisfy your needs with somebody you like? It had been mutual and now
Carsten couldn't understand what had changed and why Sascha begin
giving Denis priority. What had he that he - Carsten - hadn't? Was it the
dark skin? The exotic look? Well, he could paint his skin then. He could dye
his hair, made curls in it, paint his teeth stark white and still he
would remain the old Carsten. Shit.

When he woke up from his trance the furnishings of their flat lay in ruins.
Astonished he looked around, not knowing if it had been him, nor that he
was able to do this. But to hell with the furniture. He wanted his lover back.

Carsten sat down at the carpet and closed his eyes. He had never
loved anything before as he loved Sascha. And he didn't even know why
exactly. Sascha didn't look special, he wasn't interesting or exciting .
Just an average guy he hadn't paid attention in those old days. Old
days? What were those old days about? Somehow everything that
belonged to former times - before Sascha - was faded out, paled,
vanished. Just his inexplicable love to Sascha stayed. He couldn't think
of anything other than  if Sascha was gone there was no reason for
Carsten to live on. Sascha WAS his life and all he had left. What shall
he do?

A key turned in the lock. Carsten woke up with a start. It was morning
and he still lay upon the carpet. Sascha cursed when he saw the rooms.
Carsten looked like a puppy with a bad conscious as  if he would await
a fight. Of course Sascha didn't dream of hitting him. He once had loved
him, had been mad about him and so long for him, but now? His
love had evaporated, and it was as if it had never exist. What could he
tell him? That there was just two month and Carsten would be free?
Then everything would be like before. The fairy godmother would
lose the spell. He couldn't wait for this.

     "Did you drink?" Sascha bent down to Carsten and helped
him up. "Or what does this mean?"

Uncontrollable anger grew again within Carsten. "What does it mean?"
he aped Sascha. "What does it mean, eh? I'm pissed! You leave me
alone and fuck with those ... coffee cream! Is he good? With a long, fat
cock?"

Sascha hit his face. Carsten looked at him with a mixture of despair and
fury. "Sorry", Sascha said. "I'm going. You can clean up meanwhile.
See you at work."

Sascha's heart broke. But could he help it? How could he not
understand Carsten? Please, Carsten hold on for just two month,
he whispered when he was on his way to Denis.

And what if he would play the game with Carsten? Convince Denis
it was just for his best? But who would believe his story of a fairy
godmother that came to grant him a wish, huh? He had told nobody
about the fateful meeting ten month ago.

Perhaps he had to be nicer to Carsten. It was not his fault that he
was so deeply and never ending in love.

Denis looked indeed at him as if he had lost his marbles. There was
no point for Sascha to continue his story then. Nobody would believe
him and Sascha couldn't blame them. But after Denis had heard what
Carsten had done with the flat he insisted Sascha to stay here.
Sooner or later they would have to change the working place too.
There was no way all three could work together as if nothing had
happened.

Sascha though thought this luckily would not be necessary after
Carsten had snapped out of his spell-caused enchantment.
He just hoped that he wouldn't carry memories afterwards. But actually
it was impossible. The fairy godmother would turn back time, wouldn't
she.

All of a sudden Sascha stared through the front shield of the car, not
seeing anything. This would mean ... this would mean... he didn't dare
to think it. It would mean, Denis had never found the job in the bookshop.
They had never met. They never fell in love with each other.  The status
quo would re-established: Sascha was in love with Carsten as ever.
Hopelessly.

What if he would place a note between Denis' stuff. But would he
follow a note from a guy he never had heard of before?

But wait, Denis had nothing to do with the events caused by Sascha's
wish. Denis would come. They would meet and Sascha would be cured
from being lovesick. Without the help of a fairy godmother. If he just
could be sure of this."