Date: Tue, 16 Jan 2001 13:51:20 EST
From: Stefan <SSch191950@aol.com>
Subject: A Promise And A Curse/part 4

A Promise And A Curse
Chapter 3

by Stefan
http://members.aol.com/ssch191950/stefan/


As we left Chapter 2, Simon was recalling memories of his time with
Oliver:

	"It was the day I moved in with him when I noticed that he
	was taking drugs.  Speed in the morning, a snort of coke in
	between, ecstasy in the evening and valium for sleep.  To make
	him feel good so I wasn't concerned seriously.  What did I
	know about it?"

				***************

CHAPTER THREE

The air was mild when Simon stepped out of Ben's little car.  Even from
the outside he could hear the laughing of a crowd of people, loud music
echoed over the street and broke against the walls of the houses on the
opposite side of the street.

   "I should buy you a bigger car, Ben." he said, stretching his limbs.

   "Fine with me," Ben responded.  "How many times would you have to sell
your ass for this?"

Simon rolled his eyes at Ben and gave him a box on the shoulder.  "Come
in, they're at it already."

Marcus' big exhibition hall was only dimly lit, a few spots in corners
and on tables with lanterns hung across the room.  There was no sign of
the fire which had broken out a month ago, walls and ceilings were white-
washed again.

Ben could make out a large buffet at one side of the hall.  He turned up
his nose because of the cigarette smoke curling up to the ceiling.

   "Now, where's the birthday child?"  Simon asked.

   "Right behind you," he heard a deep voice and looked into Marcus'
slightly reddened eyes.  "Thought you both wouldn't come, it's getting
late."

   "Happy birthday, honey."  Simon gave him a wrapped parcel.  "Take care
of it, it's fragile."

   "That's all?" Marcus kept a straight face.  "No kiss?"

Simon grinned, leaned towards Marcus and gave him a resounding kiss on the
lips before he felt himself hugged tightly.

   "How are you?" Marcus whispered.

   "Fine.  I'm okay."  He didn't want to tell his ex-lover how bad he had
felt lately.

   "Ben?"

Simon freed himself.  "He's here with me and I am beginning to enjoy
it."

Marcus smiled.  "I certainly hope so."  His eyes wandered to Ben,
standing a bit awkwardly aside, watching.  Then he stretched out his
hand.  "Happy Birthday, Marcus.  The present is from both of us."

   "Thanks, dear.  You know you don't have to."  He smiled warmly and kept
Ben's hand in his until Simon emitted a little cry and rushed away to
fall a moment later into Kay's arms.

Ben removed his hand.  "His brother is here?" he asked in stunned
surprise.

   "Yes!" Marcus beamed.   "I had no clue that he and Sebastian would come
over!  Nick must be somewhere over there."  He pointed to the back of
the hall.

   "Hungry?"

   "Starving!"

   "Come with me."  He led him to the cold buffet.  "Sebastian and Nick
cooked in the little pantry.  Try the pears with coriander and cress."
He placed two of them on his plate.  "Would you like a chicken leg?"

Ben nodded.  He inspected the fruit salads, stuffed mushrooms, fried
potatoes, eggs and sea foods.  His stomach rumbled and Marcus laughed.
"Ok, I will leave you alone.  Enjoy your meal."  Then he turned.  "Did
you bring your drawings?"

   "Yes."

Marcus nodded.  "All right.  I will have a look at them later."

Elli Schneider again was wearing her tight green pants and a long loose
poncho of orange colour.  She stomped on her high heels towards Simon
and Kay because she recognized the lad.  Kay stuffed his mouth with
green salad, alternating chewing and chatting with his brother.

   "You must be Kay!" she shouted, her forefinger prodded Kay's chest.  Kay
and Simon turned surprised.

   "My, you look really that good, like in Nick's paintings!  But where's
your blond hair?  Well, doesn't matter, I like it anyway," she laughed
and Kay smiled politely.

   "Excuse me?"

   "Nick.  I bought his painting of you recently.  At Marcus' last
exhibition, don't you remember?"

   "Yes, of course."  He exchanged an amused glance with Simon.  "Have you
had a taste of that wonderful salad already?" he asked finally.

   "It's my special recipe, Madam."  Sebastian stood behind her and kept a
straight face.  "May I show you the way?"  He looked invitingly at her.

   "But I really want to exchange a few words with that good looking lad,
Sebastian."

   "Aren't I good looking enough for you?"

Kay and Simon burst out in laughter when he took her arm in a determined
grip and went away with her.

   "What was that?"

   "My biggest fan." Kay sighed mockingly.  "Nick got a commission work
from her to paint all her family members.  Now he's going to earn a
fortune apparently!"

Simon grinned and let his eyes wander around the room.  "Have you seen a
tall man, blond hair and blue eyes?"

   "Nick?"

   "No, Rene.  He promised to meet me here. Haven't seen him for two
weeks."

Kay shook his head.  "Who's this?"

   "A friend of mine."

Kay eyed him.  "I thought you're with Ben?"

   "I am, Kristian.  Sort of."

Kay interrupted him.  "Call me Kay.  I don't answer to Kristian
anymore."

   "So?"  Simon remembered that his brother had suddenly chosen his second
name for his first name.  He found it odd, but then, Kristian had always
been full of little loveable quirks.  "Rene was the reason Marcus and I
broke up.  He found us in bed."

Kay shook his head.  "And you invited him to Marcus' birthday party?
Don't think this is a good idea.  Marcus must hate him!"

   "Do you think so?"  He sighed.  "Yes, it was a stupid idea.  I just want
to see him again.  He wasn't in a good mood last time I saw him.
Thought he could have a little fun."

   "Yeah, that's nice of you, but not at Marcus' birthday party!"  Kay
still shook his head. "Daniel, Sebastian's cousin came with us.  We made
a trip to northern Italy where we visited him.  He has an apple farm!"

   "Ah!  And?  Isn't he like Sebastian?"

   "Very!" Kay chuckled.  "Must be somewhere here in the hall . . . come,
let us go find Nick."


Vera, Nicholas' mother, was determined to make the visit short.  She
didn't know these people and was relieved as she saw Marcus coming
straight to her. He held out a plate filled with salad and toast in
one hand, the other carried a glass of white wine.  He placed it upon a
little table, gave her the cutlery and sat beside her.  "Are you feeling
well?  The last time you were not amused in that surrounding, were you?"

   "No, I wasn't.  Is your housekeeper here too?"

   "Anna, yes.  I think she's chatting with one of my business partners."
He looked at her.  "You're doing really fine?  Nick told me you moved
out of your flat.?"

Vera was embarrassed.  "He didn't need to tell you this."

Marcus briefly touched her shoulder.  She wore the cream-coloured
costume her son had bought her with money from his first self earned
money as a painter.

   "It's a wonderful costume you're wearing, Vera.  It suits you very
well."  He smiled encouraging.  "Now, the secret is kept in the family.
I always had the feeling that you didn't deserve such a life."

Vera looked up.  "Which life?  You mean because we aren't rich as you?
We were always a happy family."

Marcus flinched a bit.  "Of course. I'm sorry.  But I had the feeling
that Nick wanted more.  He's intelligent and deserves the chance to do
more with his life.  And you," he bent over, "I imagine you surrounded
with all the things your heart desires."

Vera said nothing but took her glass and sipped at the wine.  Then she
said, "I live in my sister's flat.  But it's impossible, of course.  She
has three kids and I must share the room with the youngest.  Rudolf
called the other day ..."  She trailed off abruptly.  She didn't want to
say this, nor did she want to complain.  But Marcus still smiled.

   "And what did he say?"

   "That I should come back.  Hopefully not only because he used his last
clean pair of socks and underwear!" She laughed.  It was a pleasant
sound and Marcus was happy to see her laughing.

   "Certainly not!" he said.  "And your decision?  Or do you want to live
alone?  Move into your own flat?"

   "I don't know.  I've never lived alone before."

Marcus raised an eyebrow.  "Never?"  Surely never.  She moved from her
parent's house - now married - to another.

A flourish sounded and a spotlight illuminated Marcus' face.  "And now,
Ladies and Gentlemen," Sebastian's voice sounded.  "Get ready for the
big birthday cake!"

>From a little room behind the hall, a ridiculously big cake was
carried.  With white icing, thirty little pink candles burning and
decorated with coloured drops of clotted cream.  A multivoiced "AAhhh!"
filled the room.

   "Jesus!" Marcus said, as he jumped up, went over and obeyed the orders
to blow out the candles in one breath.  "Don't forget to make a wish!"

Marcus closed his eyes, took a deep breath and walked around the cake to
blow out the candles.  A bit embarassed, he stood in front of all the
clapping people and laughed.  He felt Nicholas at his side.  "Now, what
did you wish?"

   "Secret, darling."  He gave Nicholas a very longing gaze and Nick
giggled.

Sebastian lent him a knife.  "You must slice.  We are keen on birthday
cake

Sighing, Marcus cut pieces and made a mess of his black jacket.  Anna
rushed to him and rubbed it with her handkerchief.  "Christ! What a
commotion."  He stepped away from Anna, dragging Nicholas with him into
a corner.

There Nicholas pulled out a little parcel from his trousers pocket.
"Happy birthday, Marcus."  He leaned over and kissed him on the lips.
"Open it."

   "Here?"

Nicholas nodded.

Marcus untied the ribbon and ripped open the paper.  He saw a little box
and opened it.  It was a jade elephant, a marvelous, soft, green colour,
just the right size to carry in a trouser's pocket.

   "A memory like an elephant.  It shall remind you of your promise,"
Nicholas said.

Marcus looked up into Nicholas' eyes.  "That's the best present I've
ever had," he said finally and pulled Nick into a tight embrace.  "I
won't forget my promise, sweetheart, I swear."

   "Oh, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon . . . " Nicholas laughed
and let his hands roam all over Marcus' back.

   "Look at these love birds."  Sebastian said.  "Time to unwrap all your
presents, honey.  First, ours."

He pointed to the table where parcels were already piled high with
hampers of flowers forming a ring around the table.  Marcus sighed but
followed him.  Sebastian gave him a large parcel, wrapped in yellow
paper.  It was heavy and Marcus fought to rip off the paper.  Then he
held in his hands a glass frame of a copperplate engraving with an old
vedute of ancient Rome.

   "Wow, Bastian, what's this?  Certainly not a genuine Piranesi?"

Sebastian held Kay's hand and both nodded.  "Really"  Jesus . . .
Bastian, Kay.  That's far too expensive!  Where did you find it?"

Kay beamed.  He loved surprises.  "There's a shop where you can buy
genuine Parinesis."

   "Piranesi, honey," Sebastian threw in.

   "Yeah, whatever.  Of course only if you have the right connection."
He winked.

   "I only hope you didn't have to fuck the owner!" Marcus shot back.  He
stepped to both and embraced them.  "Too much, honey," he whispered.
"Your presence is surprise enough."



Simon held his glass of wine, sipped occasionally and looked again at
the entrance.  Slowly he had given up hope that Rene would appear and he
was disappointed.  Or perhaps rather relieved . . .

He watched Marcus unwrapping his presents . . .  a second flashback shot
through his mind as though it was only a few days before.  It had been
Marcus last birthday which took place at Marcus' house.  His parents had
been there from Tenerife and all his business partners and friends.
Simon smiled wistfully.  It was true that he always gave himself as a
present - not exactly exciting anymore - so Simon thought about
different places, exciting surroundings . . . his parents swimming pool
for instance or Marcus' garden at midnight.  Simon grinned now at the
recollection . . .

   "And therefore, all my friends," Marcus sat at the big dining table and
raised his glass, "I would love to say my thanks for your coming."

Simon's watch said it was half past eleven at night and he was getting
bored.  All the people he had already met on several business trips
abroad and he wasn't keen to see them again.  One look in all their
faces told him that there wasn't anybody who was sober by this time;
flushed, sweating faces, women who had dressed down a bit so that he
could see their breasts only covered with thin material, the men had
taken off their dinner jackets and loosened their ties.  But Marcus
seemed to be all right, except for his rolled up sleeves and the button
he had opened at the top of his shirt.

All eyes were turned toward Marcus.  "Let me say it again . . ."

Simon giggled and vanished under the table.  He didn't know if anybody
took notice and if so, he didn't care.  He crept between Marcus legs,
reached above and carefully opened Marcus' fly.  He pulled the zipper
down and raised his head near the opening.  He could hear Marcus jerk
and break out coughing.  Apparently he had swallowed a gulp of wine the
wrong way.

   "Let me say it again . . .  Jesus, it's hot in here."

The crowd burst into laughter and Simon took the opportunity to pull out
Marcus' penis from the opening of his briefs.

   "Could . . . someone dim the lamps please." Marcus' voice was labored.

Simon stuck out his tongue and licked at the crown of Marcus' still limp
penis, felt it twitching and rising in rapid movement.  He was really
horny when he was drinking . . . Simon giggled once more; silently so
that nobody could hear.

   "Oh yeah, that's better."  The guy sitting next to Marcus stepped upon
Simon's hand and he suppressed an outcry.  He rubbed it with his other
hand and then he gripped the shaft of Marcus' penis, sucking feverishly
at it.

   "I want to tell you once more . . . that I have you . . . that even my .
. . Christ! . . . parents . . . I really appreciate that they . . . came
from so far away . . . to join . . . us."

Marcus must have been sweating like mad, Simon remembered.  His
disjointed speech he never finished that evening . . . Simon teased him
with his tongue, licking furtively and very slowly up and down, circled
around the tip, pressed his tongue into the slit and felt from time to
time Marcus' hand was ruffling his hair in an effort to push him away.
But Simon didn't give up, he knew that Marcus must have been most
furious and horny at the same time.

And than all that he heard was a sudden cheering, the clinking of
glasses and a spurt which flooded into Simon's sucking mouth.  He never
knew what was going on over the table and if anyone had ever noticed
what was going on under the table.

He packed Marcus' spent cock back in his briefs, zipped up the trousers
and crept back to his place where he appeared in his chair again.  A
long glance from Marcus told him that he wanted desperately to burst out
in laughter.  He pointed to his chin and Simon wiped away the white
remains of his game.


Now Simon couldn't hold his laughter.  Marcus' face had been too funny.
He watched him still unwrapping his presents and giving his thank you's
to the givers.  Then he turned to Ben and said.  "Think Rene won't show
up this evening.  Let's have a party of our own, yes?  What do you want
to drink?"




   "Geez, I think I'm plastered."  Simon plopped himself down on his sofa
and leaned his head against the back.

Ben came and sat beside him, watching his closed eyes.  "I hope you
are!"

He turned over, put his hand on Simon's chest, kissed his lips and began
to unbutton his white shirt.  Simon briefly opened his eyes but began to
give in to Ben's lips, his roaming hands all over his chest, the fingers
that went down to his groin, feeling what the trousers hid.

   "Come baby, I've waited long enough," Ben murmured.

Simon lifted his head so abruptly that he bumped Ben's forehead.
"Ouch."  Simon wiped the place, then looked into Ben's hazel eyes.  "So
this is our big day, isn't it?"

Ben nodded, determined, and stroked Simon's cheek.  "I dreamt of you
since our first meeting," he whispered.  His hands slid down again to
the zipper, opened it, his fingers went inside, found the cotton briefs
and the hard erection.  Surprised, he lifted his head again and found
Simon grinning.

Simon bent forward all of a sudden and laughing said, "I'm horny as hell
whenever I drink too much!"  With this he pulled down his trousers, the
socks, ripped off his shirt and was naked in no time.  Ben was stunned,
then he couldn't hold himself and joined Simon's laughter.  He began to
undress himself and ran with Simon into the bedroom, his heart pounding
in anticipation, pulling Simon on top of himself when they fell on the
bed.

   "Wait," Simon  mumbled and reached into the drawer of the little table
standing next to the bed.  He tossed Ben a pair of wrapped condoms.

   "Gosh!" Ben said, "we will spend a fortune on these things!"  He picked
one and tore it open.

   "So what?  It's well invested."  Simon gave him an evil grin, removed
Ben's glasses from his nose and put them onto the table.  His fingers
glided over Ben's shoulders, around his waist and then along his legs.
"You're beautiful," he murmured and Ben's ears reddened. "Do you think?
What did Marcus do?  Did he fuck you or vice versa?"

   "He did me."

Simon was absorbed in Ben's skin, the scent of it, the faint trace of
alcohol on his breath and the engorged cock.  He put his fingertip on it
and felt the droplets of precum.  Then he  licked his finger and smiled.

   "And you?"

Ben remembered instantly Frank, and the memory of his urge to ram his
cock into Frank's exposed ass was vivid as ever.  He returned Simon's
smile.  "I'm eager to try, if you don't mind."

   "Don't mind?" Simon laughed.  "I hunger for it."  He wrapped his hand
around Ben's penis and gave it a long stroke.  Ben shivered.  Simon
flung himself upon Ben's body, straddled his waist and sat upon Ben's
groin, playing with his cock, never losing his grin.  Then he bent over
him and took Ben's ponytail.  He looked for the small ribbon, removed it
and Ben's black hair flowed over the pillow.

   "Snow White," he whispered and kissed his forehead.  "Close your eyes."

Ben blinked and then did what he wanted.  He left his body to Simon's
experienced hands, felt him outlining a scar he had on his right side.

   "Appendix?" Simon asked.

Ben nodded with eyes closed.  Simon slipped downwards and kissed it.
Ben giggled, "I can't feel anything at that place, Simon."

   "No?" Simon's tongue went a little beside the scar.  "And here?"

   "Hmmm."  The tongue neared his cock, lying flat on his belly.

   "And here?" Simon swallowed, most unexpectedly, the crown and Ben
gasped.

   "Yeah."

Simon chuckled and doubled his effort.  He felt Ben's hand ruffling his
hair, urging his lips to get more of his cock into Simon's sucking
mouth, which Simon let happily happen.  Then he took the condom and
pulled it carefully over Ben's cock.

He lifted and positioned himself over Ben's crotch when Ben opened his
eyes again.  "Don't honey, I want to go into you.  May I?"

   "As you like, honey."  He smiled, climbed down, laid on his back and
opened his legs.  Ben closed his eyes briefly.  This was the moment he
had dreamt of, every night, in every day dream . . . He placed his lips
near Simon's hole, sniffed its masculine scent, opened his mouth, licked
over the orifice and felt Simon's anus twitching.  "There's lube in the
drawer," Simon said huskily.

Ben took it and greased his fingers before he slipped them into Simon's
twitching anus.  It was warm, very warm and elastic.  He crawled higher
and closed Simon's open mouth with his lips.  He played with his tongue,
heard Simon's throat growling for pleasure.  A jolt running through
Simon's body when he felt a little knot in the tight tunnel and stroked
over it.

Finally Ben lost the feeling for time.  He couldn't control his own
desires, his cock and balls were heavy with lust, Simon's moaning filled
the room, his ears, his very being, he felt Simon's hand tugging at his
hair, falling over his eyes, stroking it back, whispering "fuck me, Ben
. . . now."

Ben crawled between his legs and lined up his cock with Simon's hole.

   "Slowly, baby," he said.

Ben nodded and pushed a bit.  The tip sank in and felt resistance.  But
Simon's face was relaxed so he went further, breaking the barrier.

   "Oh God," escaped Ben, "Oh God!" as he slid further, deeper, deeper...
he lost control, something disengaged in his mind - he pulled back and
shoved in again, tight, moist, warm, wet, hot until he sensed Simon's
fingers dug into his underarms, yelling at him.

Ben opened his eyes; a drop of sweat had built up at the tip of his
nose, ready to fall.

   "Ben!  Slow down!"

Ben blinked several times and focused his gaze onto Simon's flushed
face.

   "Slow down, please," he panted.  Ben immediately stopped his frantic
movements.

   "You know I really appreciate your wildness but would prefer if you
would calm down a bit."  He reached out his arms, hugged Ben's neck and
pulled him to his lips.

   "I'm sorry baby," Ben was embarrassed.  "Did I hurt you?"

Simon smiled.  "No."  He kissed his lips.  "Just slowly, honey.
Slowly.  Shush, don't want you to split the condom."  Ben's body
shivered and he didn't dare to move again.  Simon stroked his back and
wiped a tear away from his cheek.

   "Go on" he whispered.

Ben moved cautiously and felt suddenly happy to hear Simon's moaning
again, his erect cock pressed between their bodies and now slowly he
sped up his movements again, enjoying the warm feeling, the increasing
of pleasure, Simon's face beneath him, its blissful expression until
his anus twitched again and sent Ben over the point of no return.

Simon drenched them both with his hot semen until Ben lay upon his body
panting, content, spent, whole.  But instantly he looked into Simon's
face again to find him smiling, his dark curls a bit damp from sweat.
He kissed him wildly on his lips, murmuring excuses.

   "It's all right Ben, honey.  Stop it."  He stroked over the skin on his
back.  "That was amazing," he whispered.

   "I'm really sorry.  I don't know what came over me . . . are you ok?

   "Shush, I'm fine.

Ben cuddled close into his arms and felt his cock shrinking.  He rose
again, held the rim of the condom and pulled out slowly.  Then he
carried it into the bathroom and came back with a warm wash cloth and
cleaned Simon.

Simon smiled and pulled him back into his arms.  "Stay here with me,
will you?"

   "You don't have to ask."

One long kiss and Simon was so sleepy that he couldn't keep his eyes
open.  Ben's fingers caressing his body was the last thing he felt
before he was sound asleep.


				************


	"Oliver spent more and more time in gambling dens.  He
	said his dream was to play in Las Vegas.  He had every
	reason to love playing because he usually won more than he
	invested; together with his checks from the magazines, he
	could live a relatively carefree life.  We took a room in
	the most expensive hotel in town, the re-opened "Adlon",
	famous for its famous guests which included statesmen from
	foreign countries, Rockefeller, Einstein and Sauerbruch,
	actors like Marlene Dietrich and Charlie Chaplin . . . we
	served ourselves with champagne and lobster, truffles and
	caviar but we both didn't like it.  "A kingdom for a
	hamburger!" Oliver yelled and we laughed until tears were
	running down our cheeks.  Oh yes, he could make me forget
	my disease.

	And those nights with him were most satisfying.  He taught
	me things not even Marcus knew.  Hell, he was 19 and a
	professional in sex.  But . . . I had the feeling he
	especially didn't mean me, he just performed as he always
	did.  The life of an actor he was used to, posing in front
	of cameras, perfectly illuminated, his toothpaste-smile
	bewitching, the gracious body stretched out in positions
	I would have a backache for months.

	But, Ben, I didn't give a toss about it.  He was with me.
	He loved me because I was with him and I didn't want more.
	I was in love with his personality and didn't ask why he
	was acting like he did and what his mask hid."


				************


Simon opened his eyes and looked into Ben's sleeping face.  The long
black hair cascaded like a silky waterfall along his shoulders and the
milk white skin of his back.  Snow White - he thought once more.  Black
and white and red - and hazelnut eyes.  Simon smiled.  Ben's arm and
hand lay close to him and Simon examined them.  Ben had the same long,
slender fingers of an artist:  Marcus, Nick, Frank and Ben.  And the
memory of their caress gave him goose bumps.

He tried to remember the last time he had woke up with such a contented
feeling and found it was only the mornings he had shared with Marcus.
He sensed it all too clearly; nobody had ever compared to him.  Not even
Oliver.  Would Marcus remain as he was - scatty, a bit selfish and hard
- he was always generous and caring and a great lover for him; devoted
and passionate.

But now - this past night - he had regained some of the tenderness he
missed for a long, long time.  He wasn't quite sure if he should enjoy
this or not, a little piece of the solid wall he had built around his
heart, soul, and passion had begun to crumble and Simon didn't know if
this would be good for him.  There once was a time when he had been
vulnerable like Ben or Nick, but it was a long time ago.  He would never
forget that moment as he realized that he couldn't go on like he had
been doing.  Marcus had tossed him out of the house - still a sharp
wound in his soul, hardly yet scarred.

Images of his parents flooded through his mind, the demanding father,
disappointed that he was never interested in a career in his factory.
Never interested in learning more, becoming a successful manager or
lawyer or surgeon or . . .  The subservient mother, hanging on the words
of her husband, always careful to please his father and forget about
their sons.

No, he wasn't able to return to his parental home after Marcus threw him
out.  He couldn't stand the reproachful, cool glances.  He was gay!  He
didn't learn anything!  Well, he wasn't even able to hold on to a
relationship.  He was a complete failure right down the line.

It had been that certain point when he had returned from Hamburg, Jo and
all the shit that happened there.  He stood upon Berlin's streets again,
unable to use his credit card because he hadn't paid the bill and he
didn't want his parents or Marcus to be able to trace him.  He counted
the money he carried in his wallet.  It wasn't much.  He never had to
care about money because there had always been plenty of that.  Why
hadn't he ever asked his brother for help?  He couldn't remember.
Pride?  Simon chuckled involuntarily.  Pride.  That acquired arrogance
of the common, poor man.

Then he had met Oliver.  He had been embarrassed that Oliver paid most
of his bills for him.  Simon counted in his mind - how long had they
been together?  Five months?  Just five months?  How could everything
pass with such enormous speed?

He knew that Oliver was taking drugs but neither he nor Simon knew that
Oliver had a weak heart which coped with the abuse very badly.

But he didn't want to think about that now:  all the other men who had
come after Oliver's death.  The smell of their sweat from over
excitement, greedy fingers pawing his young body.  Small lips drooling
with spittle, the smell coming from scruffy teeth.


Simon cautiously stroked Ben's long fingers and pushed back the hair
from his forehead.  Ben smiled a bit and took a deep breath.  The night
with Ben had been different and Simon knew for sure that he had lost a
little piece of his heart - a thing he actually wanted to avoid so
desperately.  Still he could feel Ben's cock caressing him inside,
although a bit wild but most pleasurable.  But there wasn't a future for
them, Simon thought.  He couldn't allow this.  Ben was much too good for
him.

The telephone rang in the living room and Simon released Ben from his
arms.  His head was pounding from the alcohol and smoke.  Dazed, he
picked up the receiver.

   "Simon?  It's Rene.  Sorry I couldn't make it yesterday.  Didn't feel
too well.  How was it?"

Simon ruffled his hair and wiped over his eyes.  "Fine, dear.  We had a
lot of fun, too bad you were not there."

He heard nothing at the other end of the line.  Then Rene said
hesitantly - "Don't know if the other would have appreciated my
presence.  You know I never met Marcus . . ."

Simon remembered briefly Kay's words that Marcus wouldn't be pleased to
see Rene, but decided to keep it friendly.

   "Ah, come on, don't throw yourself into emptiness.  I'm sure nobody
would have minded.  Are you better today?"  "Yes," Rene answered.

   "What if you come here and we have breakfast together?  Ben is
here."  Simon said.

   "Ben?  He spent the night with you?"  Rene's voice was now more lively.

   "Indeed."

   "Great Simon, I thought you would resist him for the rest of your
life."  He interrupted himself and his voice sounded sad again, "Bad
joke."

Simon felt two arms wrapping around his body, naked skin next to his and
a warm breath at his ear.  He smiled, "Ok, I give you one hour, Rene."
He hung up and turned in Ben's arms.  "Hi, lovely, Slept well?"

Ben nodded, "I'm sorry for last night."

   "Why do you always apologize?" He watched Ben's long hair flooding over
his shoulders.  "You're looking marvelous.  Up for a hot shower?"  Ben
followed him.


Ben watched Rene across the table; his light honey coloured hair which
was turned back a bit at his forehead, the eyes blue and large.  He
looked a bit pale, the skin somewhat translucent and his sweatshirt hung
a bit loosely around the waist and shoulders.  Simon had told him the
story of himself and Rene and he was eager to learn more about him.  He
listened to the chattering which left him out of the conversation, but
he didn't mind.  All that he knew was that Rene's HIV-infection had
turned into AIDS some months ago.  He inspected him intently.

   "How's your sister?" he heard Simon asking.

   "Fine.  Although I feel guilty that she spends so much time with me.
She hasn't a life of her own anymore."

   "She lives with you?" Ben asked.

   "Yes.  She makes certain that I take my pills at the right time... for
instance."

Ben had the feeling that there was something more.

   "She is busy.  "Brewing me tea when I have the shits for hours again,"
Rene continued.  "Such stuff."  He grinned and around his eyes appeared
tiny wrinkles, dry as crumpled parchment.  Briefly Ben imagined Simon
becoming prematurely older, the traces of the disease all over his face
and body.  He had read about the nasty side effects of the medication, a
virus that could affect the intestines and the joints, which could lead
to cancer... Karposi, which caused big red spots all over the skin.
Would he still love him then?

Simon sensed his gaze and looked questioning.  Ben smiled at him.  Yes,
he was sure he would.

When Simon vanished briefly in the bathroom, Rene turned to Ben and gave
him a very speculative look.  "Are you in love with him?" he asked.

Ben's ears reddened.  "What's this question all about?"

Rene leaned closer.  "Don't get me wrong Ben.  I just know what I'm
saying.  It's a bad situation and it will get worse.  I just want you to
be prepared for it."

   "I am prepared."

   "Are you?"  Rene shook his head briefly.  "What will you do when Simon
feels nasty, when he doesn't want you to be around.  When all that he
wants is to sleep, to puke into the toilet, refuse to eat?  It's too
painful, boy.  You're so young, don't waste your life."

Ben looked at him suspiciously.  'Puking into the toilet' he had
certainly experienced lately.  "What would you do without your sister,
huh? She's there for you.  Like I'll be there for Simon."

Rene gazed at him with an indefinite look, then he nodded slowly.  "Do
what you have to do."

For a moment a depressing silence hung in the room.  Ben burned to ask
why Rene was so stupid to fuck around with Simon without protection.  In
these times it was too dangerous and Ben was getting angry.  He was
convinced that it was Rene who was responsible for Simon's infection and
he couldn't quite understand why Simon was so friendly with him.  The
silence grew alarming until Simon returned.

   "All ok with you?"  Ben asked, concerned.

   "Of course.  Why?"


After Rene was gone they washed the plates and mugs and went back into
the small bedroom.  Simon was still tired and his headache had subsided
only a bit.

   "Did you take your pills?" Ben asked.  "Shall I bring them to you?"

   "Yes, I had forgotten.  You know I hate to take them.  Always makes me
sick."

   "You're sure the reason is the tablets?  You have to take them.  Better
to feel a bit sick, than ...."

   "Than?"

Ben didn't answer but went to the bathroom.  "Which ones?" he shouted.

   "The big dark glass standing on the shelf."

Ben watched how Simon swallowed the big oval pill, then his gaze got
stuck on a painting hanging above the bed.  Last night he had noticed it
but now he could have a closer look.  It was Simon, standing naked in
front of what looked like a Roman bath, pressing a towel in front of his
body.  Only the round cheeks of his butt peeked out.  He smiled impishly
at the painter and in his cheeks were two deep dimples.

Simon noticed his gaze and smiled.  "It's the one Marcus made of me.  He
sent it over after we met again."  He sighed a bit.  "Apparently he
didn't want to see it anymore because our story is finished once and for
all time."

Ben sat on the unmade bed.  "Are you sad about it?"  The pain tugged
again at his heart.

   "No, honey.  It's over."  Simon sat beside him and wrapped his arm
around his shoulder.  His hand played with Ben's ponytail.  "It's over."
he repeated.  "It did hurt for a long time but now..."  He kissed Ben's
ear.  "Shall I comb your hair?"

Ben looked amazed and then snorted with laughter.  "Comb my hair?
Funny idea.  Go ahead.

   "Have to buy a brush, honey.  But the comb here will do, I guess."

While the prongs crossed the black, full hair Ben asked, "When did he
paint it?"

   "Oh I saw the portrait he made of Sebastian and wished he would paint me
too."

   "I see.  Nick told me about it.  He said Marcus sent Sebastian's
portrait to Rome.  Is this a good sign?"

   "Sure it is.  He wants Nick for himself.  Or would you like to wake up
every morning staring into the face of my former lover?"

   "Like Rene?"

   "For instance."

Ben leaned his head back a bit more and enjoyed the caressing of the
combing.

   "How many lovers did you have?"

   "Lovers or fucks?"

   "Ouch.  Let's say forget about your fucks.  I mean lovers."

   "One.  Marcus."  He bent over to Ben's ear.  "And you?"

   "One.  You."

   "So?  I thought you did this before?"

   "I did.  But only one time.  I wouldn't call it love."

   "I see.  Can I ask you a question?"

Ben nodded.

   "How did you get this name - Benedict?"

Ben grinned.  "Isn't it a nice name?"

   "It's more of a monk's name.  But yes, I like it."

   "You know my parents were very religious.  My brother's name is Elias
and my sister's Veronica."

Simon stopped combing the hair.  It already glistened like raven's
wings.  "WERE religious?"

   "Well, my father went away long time ago and mother..."  He shrugged his
shoulders.  "Lost it somewhere among the sick people.  Perhaps she saw
too many of them dying and lost her faith in God - or something."

   "We all have to die someday."  Simon answered.

   "Quite true."

   "And you?  Do you believe in God?"

   "Well, I attended a catholic kindergarten, sang pious songs and went to
church every Sunday, but that's all. Nothing that stuck."

   "You sang all the songs, heard all the tales and nothing stuck?"  Simon
asked incredulously.

   "It's the truth.  I always had a brain of my own and I couldn't believe
the odd tales they were telling.  Heaven is empty and we're alone on
earth.  There's nobody watching over us.  No angel contemplates our
fates - to speak like Robbie Williams," he added.

Simon grinned.  "I understand.  The church means nothing to me.  In
fact, what can it mean to faggots like us?"

   "Oh, Simon, did you ever hear about the Song of Solomon?  Love is
everything, no matter to which gender.  Love has many faces."

Simon finally stopped his combing and wrapped his arms around Ben's
neck.  "You're very bright, dear.  Never thought about that.  And this
is in the Holy Bible?"

   "Sure."

   "So how did your parents react when you told them that you're gay?  I
mean from the catholic point of view?"

   "Father doesn't know because I didn't see him for nine years.  My mother
is accepting but not understanding."

   "Well, it isn't so bad then.  Acceptance is the best thing we can get,
Ben.  She doesn't have to understand it as long as she loves you.  Does
she?"

   "Think so."

   "You didn't see your father for nine years?  He left his family alone?"

   "Yes.  Married to a younger woman."

   "Ah, same old story.  Well, my parents live in Sylt.  Have a big house
there."

   "Sylt?  That little island in the North Sea?  The meeting place of the
rich and beautiful ones?"  Ben snorted.

   "Yeah!" Simon laughed.  "It's so boring there that they have to
celebrate with a party every day!  No, seriously.  My father sold his
firm and they live now from the money, probably it's enough to live two
life times."

   "You never told me about your parents.  In fact I don't know much about
you."  Ben said.

   "Don't know what's so interesting in my life."

   "At least you must have met a lot of different people."

   "Different men you mean."

   "Yeah, lots of men.  Don't get me wrong Simon.  You know I don't condemn
you for what you did."  He hesitated a moment.  "Or do still.  I won't
say:  Stop it because I want to have you for my own.  Although that's my
biggest wish.  But you must figure it out for yourself.  What is more
important for you now.  To have me or to have money."

   "And if I would choose both, you AND money?"  Simon asked.

Ben laughed a bit.  "You can have both.  Go and look for a job.  You
know I don't have money either."

   "Hm, want to come with me?"

Ben turned indignantly.  But then he saw the funny sparkle in Simon's
dark eyes and knew he made a joke.  Ben grinned.

   "You won't give me a serious answer, right?"  Simon sat beside Ben.

   "Nope.  By the way, when do YOU paint me?"

Ben laughed loudly.  "One portrait isn't enough?"

   "No!  I loved to undress in front of Marcus.  It was an exciting
feeling, his eyes all over my body for hours.  I had a constant
erection!"

   "Really?"  Ben's eyes turned to the painting.  "Nothing to see of that."

   "Of course not.  What do you think the towel hides?"  Both laughed.

   "And what did Marcus do then?  When it was finished?"

   "Shall I show you?"  Simon grinned and began to kiss Ben's lips.  "Did I
tell you I liked our night together?"

   "Tell me again, honey," Ben whispered.



End of Chapter Three.  Chapter Four will follow.