Date: Thu, 22 May 2003 05:03:54 -0400
From: SSch191950@aol.com
Subject: Made in Heaven, chapter 15

MADE IN HEAVEN
by Stefan
http://stefan680.tripod.com/stefanstories/index2.html


Chapter 15: A hole in my soul


It was noon when he arrived at the bookshop which was just in time for the
closing hour. On his way back he had tried to find a reason why he had
returned and if he should take Chris' offer to quit his job. Sure he had a
row with all of his friends, but Maxim thought they had reasons to behave
this way. That's what friends are for. He wondered if they would be cross
with him. He himself was not. Well, a little bit.

Relieved he noticed Wolfgang wasn't here, just the three of them. Their
eyes lit up when they saw him coming. The atmosphere was strange. Everybody
seemed to sizing up his feelings. As if in a mutual agreement Tim locked
the entrance door and Nadine filled their coffee mugs. Philipp pushed some
sandwiches in Maxim's direction.

While Maxim looked uncertainly from one to the other Philipp started. "Good
you came. So, I assume you've decided to finish listening to what I have to
say."

Maxim sat down but left the sandwiches untouched. His stomach was
rebellious and his head felt as if filled with cotton balls.

Phillip took a deep breath. "I've told you that I had stopped my studies to
work in his office as art headmaster."

    "He suggested the same to me this morning", Maxim threw in.

    "Really?" Philipp eyed him. "You'll quit this job here then?"

Tim's eyes grew large when he looked at Maxim.

    "No. I won't. You know..." The blacksmith in his head started his work
again.  "It was the things you said that seeped slowly into my brain. About
possession and freedom. I'd like to listen to you." He nodded to Philipp.


The next half an hour Maxim sat there, finished his coffee, tried a
sandwich and remained mute. He listened to a story that started happy and
ended in mistrust. "I know we appeared in your eyes as something
special. It had been. Christian IS something special, but you can turn that
as you like. It depends on the point of view." Philipp moistened his dry
throat. "When I said I would leave him and began packing my suitcase, he
started to persuade me the only way he knows: with sex. I suppose he did
the same to you already. Am I right? He solves things with sex."

Maxim's stomach began to glow a painful hot substance.

    "But this time he had become brutal", Philipp continued, "but I knew
how to protect myself. You just have to resist and he will be like a dog
whining at your feet. That's the secret, Maxim." He leaned over to
him. "You haven't resisted. He isn't as powerful as he seems to be. Now I
know.  He's full of complexities, but you need to know more than that. My
experiences with Christian are nothing as compared to those that Gregor had
to endure."

Maxim bent his head and looked at his shoes. He wasn't sure if he wanted to
hear them all. Philipp's calmly told tale had the right effect on him. It
cleared his still alcohol- and drugs befuddled brain. Then a hand slipped
over into his own. Looking up it was Tim who smiled encouragingly into his
face. Maxim tried to smile back and prepared himself for the last part of
the story.

    "What has he told you that his scar under his hairline is from? I
suppose a motorbike accident like he told me.  Well, it isn't. Gregor
smashed a bottle over his head in one of their fights. Gregor wanted to
leave him and Christian tried to hold him the way he knows, he raped
him. Did you guess that yet?" Tim's grip around his fingers became stronger
and Maxim reciprocated. He pressed Tim's hand through the whole story of
leaving and not being able to leave, of reconciliation and jealousy, of
controlling, self-hate and glorious heights of happiness.

In the end Maxim felt sick. He didn't want to hear more. The pieces of the
puzzle had fallen into the right places but not all. There was still much
to ask.  Phil had said nothing about Christian's family. Maxim sighed very
deeply, then he said, "You know, Phil. Chris accused you of playing rent
boy at night at the hotel you worked, accusing you of being the biggest
slut in town.  I tried not to believe it, but he's very convincing. To each
question he has the proper answer."

Philipp almost grinned. "That's him. I know it's hard to tell what's right
and what's wrong. Take his mother for instance. Chris told me over years
that she had died of cancer. When I had my days with Martin he told me the
mother had drowned in a lake. What has he told you?"

Maxim raised his eyebrows. "The latter. Drowned in a lake."

    "You see, even he's not perfect at story telling. When you lie you have
to have a brilliant memory."

    "Do you have more horror-stories in store?" Maxim asked tired. He felt
that everything Philipp was saying was meant to open his eyes, not to
influence him. He should form his own judgement. After Christian's constant
manipulation it was a relief. It seemed all this had made Philipp more
mature.  A loud bang roused them all. Nadine rushed to the door to see what
happened. It was a blond, young man, knocking at the door, indicating her
to open.

    "It's Gregor", Philipp shouted, "I called him to come."

Now the little round was complete, Maxim thought, eying Christian's
ex-lover. Again a complete different type to Philipp and to himself. Gregor
was slightly embarrassed but it vanished as soon as he sat down, looking at
Maxim. "I knew you would perhaps be here. I wanted to speak to you anyway."

To Maxim it all appeared produced, but what the hell. There was nobody
among them who wanted to harm him.

    "Admittedly," Gregor looked at the others, "I'd like to talk with you
in private, Maxim. Is it possible?"

Tim released Maxim's hand he was still holding and Nadine pulled Philipp
away. Maxim followed Tim's body with his eyes. After he had gone he felt
lonely and he was surprised about the strength his hand had given
him. Gregor took his place beside him. "I really wanted to meet you, you
know. Philipp will have told you about our meetings and what I've told
him. It was good to tell it somebody who had been in love with Christian
too. He understood me. I hope you will also. You're still with him?"

Maxim nodded. Gregor's baby-blue eyes had lost its intimidated expression
he had seen at Tim's reading. His heart tugged painfully. What was now to
come? What would Gregor have to say? Then - after a while when he felt
nothing - his brain sat in. He simply listened and turned off his heart. He
had to say good bye to a dream.

    "The day before yesterday Christian appeared at my flat. He had
followed Phil to learn my address. Imagine this! He's acting like a private
detective. And then happened something I'm really ashamed of, Maxim, you
must believe me. I hadn't dreamt he would still have so much power. He made
me enjoy sex with him... no, wait", he said, when he saw Maxim's outmost
surprised face. "I didn't enjoy it, I hated it. Shit, I don't know what I
felt. First I thought he would rape me again or beat the shit out of me,
just because I've talked too much in front of Phil. He was pushy and
seduced me! Because he didn't want that anything about our mutual past to
reach you, because he loves you - he said.  Are you following me?" Maxim
shook his head. He couldn't. "Wait a moment. You say the day before
yesterday he was with you to threaten you to stay away from me?"

Gregor nodded. "Right. He said he would come more often to have sex with me
if I would be silent. Pah. He overrates himself."

Sex as lever, as Philipp had said. And we do all have our brains between
our legs, Maxim thought. As if Christian would be that irresistible. Well,
wasn't he?  "It hasn't worked since you're here", he said aloud. "Thank
you." He was cold. Something inwardly had died. How could he do
this. Fucking Gregor then returning to him as if nothing had happened and
... raping him too. Yes. What else should you call it? Open your eyes,
Maxim. Say good bye to your dream. The sour burning in his stomach
increased. He turned his head to Gregor.

   "Are you clean?"

   "What do you mean clean?"

   "Have you had a HIV-test lately?"

   "No. I haven't had sex for ... quite a long time. Why?"

   "Has he fucked you without protection? I assume he has. Me too. I'd be
thankful if you'd go for a test."

Gregor swallowed. "Ok. But I don't think there's anything to fear."

   "Shit, Gregor! Christian claims to be a holy man, he's pissed at me when
I look at other guys, he accused everybody of fucking around besides his
bed, and then he has a go with you as if he would be Jesus to rule the
world. That's unbelieving."

They heard his outcry through the whole book department and they were
relieved. Philipp had feared Maxim's silence was a sign of disbelief. Now
they could discuss it. But what was this? Chris had a go with Gregor? When?
He drew nearer and was beckoned by Maxim.

    "Sit down." Maxim searched for cigarettes. Philipp gave him one from
his package and lit it for him. A second one was for himself. Even if he
felt dazed while smoking, he needed it. "Ok, Phil. You won. I can't
anymore. This was all a bit too much for me. Can I take your offer for a
sleeping place?"

Philipp's face lit up. "Of course you can."

    "Christian will search at your place when you don't return", they heard
Tim's voice behind them. Maxim turned.

    "What about my place? Does he know where I live?"

    "No, but he will find out soon", Gregor chimed in. "Like he followed
you, Phil."

    "He followed me? I haven't noticed. And then?"

    "He was with me, I'll tell you later." Gregor looked longing into
Philipp's eyes. "Can I come to your place? I have to explain something."

Maxim had the feeling he knew what he had to explain. Then he sensed Tim's
hand upon his shoulder. "I have a couch that makes a bed. You just have to
bring your cat."

    "All my stuff is with Christian." The icon, his books, clothes, plants,
CD's and videos, Coco's stuff not to forget. "I have to return to pick it
up."

Philipp loosened his gaze from Gregor and said sharply "And to tell Chris
you'll leave him? Do you really want to leave him or just have a break from
him? If it's the first I warn you. Remember what happened to us."

    "Yeah, he's just repeating himself, I haven't forgotten Phil." Maxim
sighed unnerved. "What am I suppose to do? I need time, I can't go on, I
can't rip out my heart." Tim's hand was pressing his shoulder. 'We can
share my clothes or you can buy some new and get stuff for Coco. You have
money? Credit card?"

Maxim nodded. He was really about to do it! He couldn't believe it. Last
night he had been full of hope that Christian had finally changed. The
disappointment hit him hard, but he would survive. Christian Kramer had
been a terrible mistake. Perhaps. He nodded and his eyes smiled at
Tim. "You would do this for me?"

    "Much more than that", it slipped over Tim's lips.

    "Better I leave the cat where he is, what do you think, Phil? Is he
behaving well?"

    "Oh dear, he slept with me", Phil grinned.

    "So? He had always been shy with another man."

Maxim pondered briefly if Coco would get used to yet another
surrounding. Perhaps he would if he was with him.

    "I can move into the hotel room again if you want your flat back",
Philipp said, but Maxim shook his head. "As you said, he would find me
there. No, for a few days it's either me who moves into a hotel or..." He
looked at Tim. "At least until I've figured it out."


Maxim felt very confused when he followed Tim back home. His life had
fallen apart. Philipp had promised to follow with his cat later along with
food. How good it felt to have friends he thought. They wouldn't leave him
alone with all his sorrow. What was left now from his dreams? Why had he
been so blind? But then, Gregor and Phil had needed much more time than he
to be free. But still there were feelings. The old habit of fancying
Christian. How could he wake up without being able to see the blond hair
beside him, the body next to his?

    "What will he do when you won't come home?" he heard Tim's voice. They
had reached his house and led him to a separate entrance. "Aren't you cold
in the thin jacket?"

    "That's all I have. Just what I carry on my body, nothing more."

    "No problem." Tim unlocked the door and guided him up a separate
staircase. "Father and Tobias live down here. I have the upper floor which
consists of two rooms and a bath.  We share the kitchen."

    "What will they say?"

    "Nothing! They never interfere my life."

    "Good for you." He followed Tim into his living room. The poster of a
naked man upon a stool caught his eyes. It looked marvellous. Then he saw
all the glass covered book shelves, the computer, a desk table, the couch
were he was supposed to sleep.  A door led into Tim's bedroom and from that
to the bath. "Sit down and make yourself comfortable, please. Are you
thirsty or hungry?"

    "Just thirsty."

Tim went into the small hall and returned with a bottle of water. "Or you
can have wine, juice or beer."

Maxim shook his head. He sat forlorn on the sofa and had nothing to busy
his hands or arms.

    "You haven't answered my question", Tim said softly. "What will
Christian do when you don't come home tonight."

Maxim shrugged. "I don't know, probably bombard me with phone calls. Since
I must face him, there is no use in turning off the phone. Also, I vanished
yesterday morning.  Actually I was supposed to go shopping and look after
the cat. He didn't know I was going to work." The carbonic acid whizzed
silently in the glass in front of him.

    "Would you like to talk about it?"

    "Yes. Why have you said nothing. You kept the secret from me until I
made a fool of myself", Maxim said bitterly.

    "Would there have been any use in telling you before you sensed it with
your own body?"

    "Does this mean you would have only observed until he actually hurt me
physically?"

Tim shook his head. "Nobody could think he would go so far, Maxim. And we
have known Gregor's story for just a few days. What has he told you by the
way?"

Maxim took a long gulp from the water. Then he whispered "The day before
yesterday in the afternoon Chris followed Philipp to Gregor's.  He
threatens Gregor not to say anything to me. And then he rewarded him with
sex."

Tim let out a little moan. "There you have, the whole story. Then why
should you hesitate about leaving? And you must confess that going back to
him after he had hurt you wasn't exactly intelligent. It made me really
angry, you know. I thought you better. If someone would have hurt me like
this I'd leave him instantly, not waiting and hoping he won't do it again."
He paused. "I must admit there's an inhibition threshold you have to
surpass like Christian did. However, it just increases once it is passed.
He probed how far he could go with you, and since you've returned he will
do it again. Hurt you."

Maxim looked into his eyes and saw the truth. "How do you know all this?"

Tim shrugged. "From my heart?" he suggested.

    "You must think me very stupid. I feel so ashamed."

    "No. Balzac once said 'When you're in love the biggest pitfall is
called ridiculousness'. So you're in good company here." They grinned at
each other. Just that moment there was a ring at his door downstairs. "Must
be Phil."


Philipp didn't want to stay because Gregor was waiting for him. He just
delivered the cat and tins of food and vanished again, but not before he
whispered with Tim in the hall, Maxim couldn't understand a word of what
they were saying. He tried meanwhile to sooth the cat who sat in his lap
eyeing Tim's rooms. "I know I demand a little too much, sweetie. But I rely
on your friendship. Tim's very nice and anyway, you know him already." Coco
'erfed and purred when Tim returned to take his seat in the armchair and
stretched out his legs. "Do you think it's Gregor and Phil?" he asked.

    "Perhaps. Two burnt kids. I'm the third."

    "Wrong, the fourth." Tim stretched out his arms and surprisingly Coco
jumped into his lap where he made himself comfortable. "Once I thought I
could start something with Phil. But I guess he's just a good
friend. That's sometimes much better than to have a lover."

Coco blinked with his eyes. He enjoyed Tim's stroking hands. Suddenly Maxim
felt the urge to laugh. "We talk like two grandpas looking back at their
life!" he snorted. "Do you have something to eat?"

Tim looked at his watch. "They should have returned from work. If you like
we can eat all together."

Maxim nodded. Awkwardly he followed Tim downstairs into the kitchen to find
Tobias cutting vegetables for a salad. "Hey sweetie," he cheered, "hungry?
How was the day?" Then he saw Maxim, wiped his hand and offered it for a
handshake. "Welcome." He hesitated for a moment. "Maxim, right?" His eyes
darted back to Tim. "You like to eat with us?"

    "I'd love to."


It was almost as being at home, Maxim thought. He could feel the affection
between both men. It was as if sorrow, trouble and arguments were excluded
from his house. No wonder Tim had hung so high his expectations and
demands. Who was to satisfy them? Compared with his life with Christian
were he had always been on guard this was sort of paradise.

Moritz offered him the bread. "It's nothing special, sorry. We don't make
much fuss about dinners in the middle of the week. Are you staying longer?"

Certainly Tim's father had put two and two together and realized Maxim has
having trouble with his boyfriend.

    "May I?"

    "As long as Tim's bearing you." Moritz winked. His look fell upon
Maxim's ring but he said nothing. "Joost and Rainer are missing you
though."

    "Oh yes," Tobias threw in, "we had so much fun searching for his newest
outfit. You know, the performances of Weill and Brecht."

    "I've still two tickets for that", Maxim suddenly remembered. "Want to
come with me?" he asked Tim.

    "Sure. Like in the old days."

Maxim's phone rang, causing him to drop his fork and knife. He didn't dare
to check who was it, but it seemed to be clear. It was half past seven and
Maxim hadn't come home. Moritz raised an eyebrow. "Your partner? You've got
trouble, yes? You should tell him about your problems. It's the best way
not to hurt him too much."

Maxim wanted to tell him that Christian deserved to be hurt but he was
silent until the melody stopped. "I call him later."


'Later' was much later. Maxim had have a glass of wine before he was able
to call Christian back. Tim had discretely vanished with the cat into his
bedroom. He didn't know if it was his heart or Maxim's that pounded faster
and louder. Coco jumped upon his bed, sniffed and approached Tim's body,
outstretched upon it. Hadn't Maxim said Coco couldn't stand Christian? With
good reasons. "Yeah, you've fine instincts, haven't you. And what do you
think of me and Maxim? I mean, not that I would press him. He has to
overcome first."


    "It's me."

    "I see. Where the hell are you staying? One of Phil's parties again?
When can I expect you? Actually I thought you would return to the
office. Where have you been the whole time?"

    "I'm not coming."

    "What?" Christian laughed. "Good joke."

    "I'm not coming back, Chris."

There was silence at the other end of the line. Then Christian's voice
appeared again. Icy. "Phil's told you a story, right? Or was it Gregor? I
hadn't thought you would be so easily influenced. I thought you would trust
me." He paused. "Come back and I'll tell you a different story."

    "A story about rape and humiliation?"

Christian just laughed.

    "You were with Gregor the day before yesterday before you madly fucked
me.  Did you imagined it was him instead of me?"

Christian cut the line.

A minute later it rang again. "Where are you?"

    "At ... a hotel."

    "You're lying. Are you with Phil?"

    "No. No use for you to check. Listen, Chris, give me a time out. I need
to think. I don't know anymore what is the truth. I don't want to hear your
excuses and explanations. I need to figure out what's the truth. You would
help me when you would be honest. Do you really think I can live with you
when you lie to me?"

    "Has Gregor talked or not?"

Maxim quickly decided to deny. Who knew what Chris was able to do. He knew
where Gregor lived. "IS there anything he should tell me?" he asked
instead. "What do you hide from me?"

    "And how much time do you think you need?"

    "A couple of days."

    "A couple of days?" Christian yelled. "You don't think I will leave you
with other men for a couple of days! Do you? You really should return, it
doesn't matter what you think about me. Let me explain everything."

    "I'll be in contact."

    "I'll miss you like hell. What can I do to make you believe?"

    "Just tell me the truth." Maxim cut the line.

He trembled inwardly and poured himself another glass of wine. "Timmy?" he
called. "I'm finished."

The door opened and Tim appeared with the cat in his arms. "How was it?" He
sat down and filled his own glass. Maxim sighed. "I'm sure he's convinced
Gregor has talked. I hope he won't do silly things."

    "Well, he won't smash Gregor's door, would he?"

Maxim was silent. Perhaps he would. This was all too much for him. In
forty-eight hours he had experienced so many mood-swings. When he thought
about last night by the fire side he was ashamed. He had behaved like a
slut - as far as he could remember. Like a being whose consciousness had
shrivelled to a stiff cock and an open arse hole. What reminded him at the
pain he still felt. Timidly he asked "Do you have some cream or ointment
for me? I'm still sore."

Tim eyed him compassionately and nodded. "It's in the bath, you need it
right now?" Tim rose and vanished in the bathroom. "I've put it out, use it
when you need to."

Maxim smiled thinly and fell into a brooding mood.

    "What did he say?" Tim inquired furtively.

    "He misses me like hell."

    "And you? Do you miss him?"

Maxim nodded, and Tim shook his head. It wasn't all that easy to come to
terms with the fact that he had fallen in love with a man who wasn't worth
it; with a man who had enough violence within him to destroy not only his
own life but the lives of everybody coming too close to him, like a praying
mantis, killing her lover after sex. Perhaps for Christian this was the
completion of sensibility and passion. Perhaps he had made it: loved Maxim
and killed him.

Maxim sensed Tim's questioning eyes on him. He couldn't give a real
answer. "Give me time", he whispered. "What can I tell you? Nobody can help
me. You all tried by giving me countless reasons to split up with Chris,
and each of them are reason enough. I just have to come to terms with it,
ok?"

Tim's eyes blinked agreement. "As long as you want."

    "You know, Tim. That's not all of Christian's secrets. The unsolved
riddle of his mother's death and his innuendos of him being guilty of her
death. He'll never tell me the story. When I asked he was angry. Or he
... would distract me with sex." Maxim's cheeks reddened and he hastily
finished his glass of wine. He was embarrassed to talk about it in front of
Tim. If he had been witness of all the nights with Chris he would think him
a sex-maniac, and to a certain extent this would be right.

And how would sex with Tim be? Hastily he added "The next thing I'll do is
to talk to Martin. Perhaps he won't be so relentless to hide the story."

    "What if they really had something to do with her death?"

    "All I know is that his father had betrayed his wife. She was jealous,
pathologically jealous... like Chris."

    "So, he inherited it, yes?"

    "Might be. Fear of loss."

Night had fallen. Tim lit a small lamp upon a shelf, the rest of the room
remained in darkness. How quiet it was here, Maxim thought. And how well he
could relax. The tenseness fell from his body and made it limp. He wondered
that Tim didn't speak about his own feelings for him, about his own
dreams. Or that he didn't try to approach him.  His eyelids fluttered
sleepily. "I wish I could have a few days off", he murmured.

    "Me too", Tim said low. "I could care for you." Good that it was said
too low for Maxim to hear. He really didn't want to press him. Although
being so close to him was painful enough without being able to touch him or
to kiss him.

    "Do you remember the last time at "Made in Heaven"?" Tim asked louder.

    "Yes. You told me it's a shame to hide you when my boyfriend was
coming."

    "Right. I was very insulted."

    "You never show it. Except when we had the quarrel in the store."
Suddenly Maxim laughed out loud. "That was something! The guys thought
certainly that was the argument of an old pair, being fed up with each
other."

    "Do I look that old?" Tim teased him.

    "No." Maxim said, suddenly serious. "You look marvellous." The cat had
fallen asleep in Tim's arms. All of a sudden Maxim found himself squatted
down next to Tim's armchair, taking his head and kissing him on the
mouth. "Thanks for being a friend", he whispered.

    "I want more than friendship."

    "Give me time, angel." Maxim rose. "I'd like to sleep a little. Do you
mind?"

    "No. Go ahead to the bath. Wait, I'll bring towels and a
toothbrush. Pyjama?" Tim grinned. He knew very well that Maxim didn't
bother with clothes in bed.

Maxim wished he had help to work the ointment into his anus, but he
certainly couldn't ask Tim to do it for him. Perhaps... there would come a
time for both of them ... when the distance to Christian would be big
enough to forget. Heaven knew when this would be.

                                                        * * * * * *

Christian went from one room to the other like a tiger in a cage. After
Maxim's phone call a world had broken down. The most shocking thing was it
came unsuspected. When Christian thought to have Maxim on the hook
again. How could he have had changed his mind so soon after last night?
Yeah, sure, Christian had loosened Maxim's inhibitions with the cocktail of
wine and tablets, but anyway. Maxim didn't know about that. Apparently he
had gone to his work instead of going shopping. What he had learnt there
must have triggered his current ill considered acts. And where was he now?
What if Gregor hadn't held his mouth but blabbered out their encounter?
Would Maxim believe him? How could Christian set such high demands on his
partner when he himself was unfaithful as well? He must appear ridiculous
in Maxim's eyes. He couldn't have that.

He washed away his glass of whisky. Alcohol had always cleared his
brain. What if he would take Gregor to task? Right now?

He looked at his watch. It was shortly before midnight. He wouldn't open of
course, and smashing the door would alarm the neighbours and police
perhaps; then everything would start again: Christian had a file at the
police department. No, there had to be a different way.


Restlessly he strolled through his apartment. What was the use of all this
when he couldn't share it? And, damn, why was nobody there to share?  Why
did they all have to leave him?  He stopped at the bathroom, looking into
the mirror seeing clear bronzed skin, wide-awake, brilliant eyes, shining
with the fire of a diamond. He lifted the hair from his forehead and saw
the jagged, rosy scar. Gregor's work. What if he would repeat his actions?
Trying to commit suicide to get Maxim's pity? Do you want pity? he asked
his mirror image. Certainly no.

He left the bath and entered the bedroom. Maxim's portrait made in Paris
came to his eyesight. A dark skinned face with black-burning eyes. Had
there been a time when he wasn't in love with him? To Christian this seemed
ages ago. Maxim filled his whole thinking. There was still the icon. His
books, plants and the cat's basket and toys. He kicked it angrily with his
foot. Bloody cat. Maxim always valued the cat more. On a chair he
recognized white sheets of paper. Tim's story he hadn't finished yet. Ok,
now was the time. Filling his glass to the rim with whisky, he lay upon the
bed and started to read.


"Killing me softly

It started with roses. They hadn't any card with them, but they could only
have been sent by Carsten. He hadn't come to work anymore and from his
colleagues Sascha learnt that Carsten was ill. He stayed away from work for
quite a time. Depression they whispered. Some of the staff made nasty
comments or just laughed about the love-sick little queer. Some of them
openly accused Sascha of being responsible for Carsten's state of mind. At
least he had dropped him like a hot potato in favour of Denis, the new
colleague.

The rose bundles came regularly. Each week a new one. Now they were
accompanied by little letters, stuck in blood red envelopments.

                                                 Does he fucks you well?

The next bunch had a letter that read


                                              I love you, Come back to me.


Letters followed thrown into their letterbox.


                                                      Death to all traitors


it read.

Sascha didn't react. All what he thought was 'hold on for just one more
month', then it would be over and he could enjoy living with Denis.

Sascha started by the steps of naked soles on the linoleum behind
him. "Can't sleep?"

Denis looked at the torn rose petals. "Do you think we should call the
police?"

   "No. They wouldn't bother. Those letters and roses aren't proof enough
of a threat. We can't prove it's Carsten, even if he lays in wait wherever
we go."

    "But his doc says he's depressed and thus acting strangely."

Sascha shook his head. "As long as he doesn't hurt us, attack or whatever,
there's no need for them to step into it."

Denis sat at the table, opposite him. "What about moving?"

    "He would find out." Sascha wondered if he should tell him the whole
story. "What would you say if I told you I've met a fairy godmother and she
had granted me one wish."

Denis laughed briefly. His stark white teeth enlightened his whole
face. "You had wished to fall in love with me?"

    "Nope. I wished that Carsten had undying love for me and that's the
result."

Denis' large, dark brown eyes looked speculative. "You're kidding me."

Sascha shook his head and knew Denis must think him mentally disarranged.

    "Sort of voodoo?" Denis asked. "Happens."

    "Pardon?"

    "African and Caribbean magic. I said it happens."

    "But that wasn't a foul magic. I've really met her."

Denis nodded. "There's more between heaven and earth..."

    "You believe me?" Sascha asked flabbergasted.

    "All I said it could happen. Why not to you?" Denis took the rose
petals and played with them. "So, you've asked for Carsten, yes? You were
in love with him and wanted him to love you back. But why such a silly
wish?"

Sascha shrugged his shoulders. "I can't remember. But, honey, you know the
real good news? It'll be over in two weeks. The fairy godmother wouldn't
grant me such a 'silly' wish in the first place. Thus she gave me one year
to fix it. I'll meet her again and when I say I don't want this wish she
will annul everything."

    "Hm. You'd still have one wish granted."

    "Perhaps. Perhaps not."

    "What would you wish then?"

    "Don't know. The lotto-jackpot." Some of the surrealistic feeling that
Denis believed what he said faded. Now that his secret was out he breathed
relief. "I know it was a stupid wish. And actually I feel very pity for
him. He didn't have a chance. But I'd never thought that it could get out
of control, you know. Who could have foreseen that Carsten's love would
turn into hate?" he said more to himself than to Denis.

    "There's always the possibility", Denis said softly. "Come back to
bed. I'm cold."


The next morning Carsten was still ill and the colleagues said, everything
looked like as if he'd never return. Sascha never told anybody what Carsten
was doing to him. When they returned home their mutual flat looked as if
hit by a bombshell: Everything had been broken, torn and wet from urine,
somebody had ripped their beds and strewn the fluffs and feathers
around. On the sheets were white traces and liquid globs, and to crown it
all was a Polaroid-photo showing Carsten jerking off, face clenched as if
he would bite into a lemon, eyes wide open, gawking directly into the
camera.

    "That's enough", Denis said. "I'll take this to the police."

Sascha stopped him. "That's embarrassing! Please wait just another two
weeks and our problem will be solved."

    "And all this?" Denis' arm embraced the whole flat. "What's with that?"


Sascha gave in. They tried not to touch anything, but went to the next
police station to report Carsten to the police. A policeman came to look,
took photos and wrote a list of broken and destroyed things. Since the door
wasn't damaged, he concluded that Sascha had either lost his key or he had
forgotten it at his old lover's. He didn't take it too serious
though. Served those faggots right. Funny to see they suffer similar
things. Sascha and Denis heard that Carsten had been interviewed, but since
he was in medical treatment he wasn't responsible for his 'outbursts' as
they called it.

    "If you're considered to be drunken or mentally ill, you're allowed to
do everything in this country", Sascha moaned, but took it somehow as
deserved punishment for his rubbish behaviour. But both were on guard. To
rip, urinate and ejaculate upon their stuff wasn't exactly harmless but
revealed some kind of a destroyed mind. He wondered why those so-called
psychologists couldn't see it. Perhaps they saw it and thought it harmless
or not curable. Or they were as disarranged as their patients were. Sascha
considered the latter.

The roses never stopped. Denis was cross. He regularly threw them into the
trash bins or spread them all over the house.

                                    Do you remember my cock? I remember
your hole,

read one of those blood red letters, Denis had thrown away before Sascha
could read it. The last week was pure hell. They could go wherever they
wanted, but on each corner they would meet Carsten, a love-sick, silly grin
plastered upon his face. He never talked, he never attempted to touch them,
and this exactly - those silence - was more threatening than a loud
clamour. Then he started to follow Denis separately. He showed up in the
bookshop. Carsten seemed to be his charming self again. Nobody thought him
ill or sick. Except Denis.


It was the next to the last day before the fairy godmother would undo what
had started exactly a year ago. Denis came from the toilet and stood in the
wash room and turned on the trap when behind his face in the mirror
suddenly another appeared, coming out of a stall. Carsten. His eyes were
blood shot and Denis could hardly make out what he was telling him. "I want
you to vanish."

Denis turned.

    "I want you to vanish from Sascha's life. He's mine from head to
toe. It's impossible for me to love another. I can't even fuck another."
His eyes grew large in front of Denis' face. "There's always him. In my
mind, talking to me, incessantly. All those words he whispered into my
ears. You know that he loves me and only me. I ask you for a last time to
set him free."

Denis tried to calm him down but failed. Then he tried it with the
truth. "Listen, if you hold on for just one more day, your pain will be
over. It'll be like you've never met Sascha, you know? You can go on like
before, be the glamorous centre of the gay world, fuck dozens of new guys
each night. Virgins if you want. But please, hold on."

    "What are you talking about?"

   "You're under a magic spell. I beg you, go home and tomorrow evening
will have forgotten everything. I promise." Denis send a silent prayer to
his gods and to all witches in the world to make his words come true. But
Carsten just laughed. He threw his head into his neck and laughed. "One of
us is mad. I fear it's not me." He gave him another long glance. "If you
won't give him up, I'll get him."

He poked his finger into Denis' breast. "I promise."

Sascha opened the door and froze. "Carsten! What you're doing here?" He
quickly figured out the situation and stepped at Denis' side. "Don't dare
to threaten him. It's solely my and your problem. He has nothing to do with
it."

    "So? And if you hadn't fallen in love with this ... beauty I wouldn't
be alone. Do you know what you promised me?" He approached Sascha and tried
to pull his arm. Sascha freed himself. Carsten tried again, this time
around his waist, and Denis stepped between. It didn't take long before
Carsten lay on the tiled floor, his body contorted, defeat by one of Denis'
karate-holds. "Don't dare this ever again."

    "Tell me you stopped loving me", Carsten whined.

    "I stopped." Sascha bent over his body. "It doesn't mean you'll never
find another. Jesus, Carsten! Never-ending love is something for children
and dreamer, you can't promise. You just can hope and sometimes it
happens. Don't force it and you'll be happy."

Carsten came to his feet and eyed both with a baleful glare. "You won't
understand me", he muttered. Then he turned and vanished.


Sascha had never been so happy this entire year when the morning to the
fateful day started. His heart jumped in his breast when he and Denis were
on their way to the bookshop. But the railstation was overcrowded with
people, annoyedly waiting for another train. "Some jerk is again laying on
the tracks. Why do they always have to commit suicide in rush-hour, eh?"

    "Get as much attention as you can", another said.

Carsten never showed up this day. Time approached closing hour and Sascha
prepared for his big appearance. He pulled Denis close to "Harry Potter and
the Sorcerer's Stone" and waited. Shortly before ten o'clock the blue haze
swept from under the cover and it didn't take long before a figure
crystallized. But this time the fairy godmother had no similarity to that
what she had been when Sascha had seen her first. She was large. Larger
than he. And she had forgotten her funny hat with the twinkling stars. She
was undefined, wavering, genderless. And she was angry. Her/his
green-golden eyes pierced Sascha's. "It's too late, my friend."

    "What too late? I'm on time. Today it's the 28th of February, exactly
one year ago you granted me a wish I could cancel after I thought it
over. Well I've thought it over and I wish to cancel my wish", Sascha said
bravely.

    "Quite right, boy." She/He pulled out a pink leather book and leafed
the pages. "Let's see. 28th of February 2002. Sascha's wish might be
granted after a year." He/She looked down at him again. "And how did you
decide?"

    "I ... I'd like to cancel ... as I've said."

    "And I said it's too late. He's dead."

    "Who's dead?"

The golden eyes flashed flames. "Humans are so stupid. Who could foresee,
not even me. I'm not a crystal-ball-reader, you know. He was hopelessly in
love with you. It's solely your fault."

Sascha's mouth fell open and so did Denis'.

    "And what do you wish for now? That your first wish never happened?"

Sascha nodded, still with open mouth.

    "You'd wish he would appear here right by your side, ignoring you as
ever? But this time you wouldn't care because now you've found a lover for
yourself, am I right?"

Sascha nodded.

    "Right. But I can't save the dead ones. It was his free decision." He
or She snapped shut the leather book and diminished to a reasonable
height. "No happy-ending, boy."




Right he was. Christian stared into empty space. A giggle formed in his
throat. Amazing. Just amazing.

He took his empty glass and swayed when he rose to his feet. Then he
carried the manuscript to the fireside and tossed it among the cooled down
ashes. He squatted down, watched the first tongues of fire embracing the
paper sheets. They bent and hissed and crumbled.

He would have done the same if he was in Carsten's shoes. Perhaps everybody
would have done it. But then, all he had to do was to go away to forget
Sascha. Out of sight out of mind. Was love really so important?

The paper bent towards the title and name of the author. "Made in Heaven by
Tim Wendlandt". And what if Tim was right now in seventh heaven with Maxim?
What if he had gone to Tim to celebrate the start of his new life? What if
he would offer just right now his little arse for Tim to invade it? Break
through the muscle and glide into the smooth, hot canal that was
Christian's own? Invaded by him so many times and not a single one of them
Maxim had inhibitions that their sex-life could be too much, too often, too
frantic, too soulless. It was certainly Tim's influence. Pah. He was really
nothing. Just a half portion of a boy, a whiner and a nobody, compared to
himself. And his biggest failure was he was in love with Maxim. If Tim
didn't exist, Maxim would come back instead of listening to the
insinuations of Satan. Why not do it like Carsten, he would have an easy
job with Tim. Throw him for instance on the tracks of an arriving
train... instead of killing himself. To commit suicide had become a boring
game for Christian for he had attempted it too often.

He looked down at the insides of his wrists. Strange, Maxim had never
noticed the thin, pale lines; the remnants of his attempting to bleed to
death in a bathtub. How long ago was it? Five years, or six? Well, the
lines were hardly to be seen, only if you know to look. The scars he
carried upon his soul were invisible as well, but he felt them every day.

He still hadn't forgiven his mother that she went alone, leaving him here
with his relentless father and a brother that was so far away. The time had
gone when the twins had been inseparable and a broad gap had opened between
them. A gap that eventually closed as the years went on. But there was
always something between them. An unspoken jealousy that mother had
preferred Christian to Martin.

Then he thought if he was about to bump Tim off, he could go on with each
of them: Philipp, Gregor, even his brother Martin. All of them had been
witnesses to his shame. If no one lived anymore then there was nobody to
tell Maxim.

Tim's manuscript had burnt to grey-black flakes. Christian rose and went
back into the bedroom. He saw the white rose with the dark red rims on the
petals stuck behind Maxim's icon from Russia. He certainly would come and
get it, like the rest of his stuff. He just had to make sure he was at
home. But how? Then he slapped his forehead. He just had to change the
number-combination of the card which was used to enter the door. Maxim
would be locked out and would be forced to ask at his office. Christian
beamed.

And what are we going to do in the meantime with little Tim? Nothing so
far, pillock. If you would do silly things with him, Maxim would never ever
come back. So... you have to play it cool, reasonable and lovingly. Do as
if you'd eaten chalk. And don't threaten Maxim!