Date: Tue, 23 Jan 2001 13:50:52 EST
From: Stefan <SSch191950@aol.com>
Title: A Promise And A Curse/Part 5

A PROMISE AND A CURSE
by Stefan

When we departed Chapter 3:


   "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.


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



CHAPTER FOUR


   "The face looks too young," Nicholas said almost angry as he stared
at the drawing he worked on.  He leaned back in his chair and chewed
thoughtfully at his pencil so he missed the light footsteps on the
staircase and jumped, startled, when a warm breath brushed his ear.

   "Supper is ready," Marcus murmured.

Nicholas turned his head to meet Marcus' red lips.  Then he said
unhappily, "I don't like it," and pointed to the unfinished face on the
paper sheet.

   "Don't like it either, honey."  Marcus tried not to grin.  "I mean,
of course, the woman - Elli Schneider.  The drawing is good."

   "But it's too young."

   "Yes, I see.  You tried to make the face older by giving it wrinkles.
But it looks like a young face with artificial make up.  Come."  He
stretched out his hand and pulled Nick from the chair.  "Food is getting
cold.  We can discuss this problem later."

   "When are Bastian and Kay coming?  Nick asked as he sat down in the
kitchen chair.  He looked at his plate and raised his eyebrows in
surprise.

   "Lasagna?  You made it?"

Marcus grinned and nodded.

   "Great.  If you become chef Paul Becuse we could tell Anna she doesn't
have to cook anymore."  He took his fork and had a bite.  "Good.
Congratulations, Marcus."

Marcus smiled.  "To answer your question, around eight p.m."

He swallowed and watched Nicholas for a while.  Then he asked suddenly
and unexpectedly:  "How was it to sleep with Bastian?"

Nicholas looked up and stopped chewing.  "You know very well, Marcus!
You promised me you would not ask.  Besides, you know the answer - you
were his lover."

   "I must break my promise, angel.  In a few hours we have to face both
of them and I'm not sure how you will react.  You know that Kay knows
nothing about it."

   "Yeah.  But yesterday at your birthday party everything went o.k."
Nicholas' chewing slowed down until it stopped completely.  It was as if
he could feel that magical Italian night again, the scent of rosemary and
orange blossoms carried on the soft wind and the low breaking of waves at
the shore matching Sebastian's movements inside him - a night of comfort,
consolation; a release from a painfully strong attraction.  Sebastian
had helped him to get over Marcus' betrayal while he was in London
looking for an old screen, ready to fuck the owner to get it from him.

Nicholas could remember the sorrow he had gone through - the sorrow and
the guilt.  This night he had been so close to Bastian but the morning
after had manifested his feelings for Marcus and Sebastian's for Kay.
Both knew this would never happen again, but he couldn't understand why
Bastian had never told Kay about it.  This couldn't be good.

Marcus still watched him and his facial expression. He laid down his
cutlery and took Nick's face between his palms.  "I know what you think.
Can you remember I told you once that Bastian is a wonderful lover and
regretted my words instantly because I was afraid you would want to try
it out yourself someday?  Well, my fears came true."  He paused a
second.  "But it's over.  There's no better lover for me than you.  I
love you.  That's the reason.  It isn't about all the off-beat arts of
sex - that's not important.  The heart is important and what you feel
when you're with me."

He let loose of his face.  "This is what my question was about.  What
did you feel?"

Nicholas blinked.  "Certainly not love.  Only consolation on a day which
was dreary and full of sorrow."

Marcus smiled and took his knife and fork up again.  "So there will be no
strange feelings,  no embarrassing silence between you and him?  No hint
that could make Kay suspicious?"

Nicholas shook his head.  "You aren't jealous?"

   "Sure I am!  Just the pure thought of him seeing you naked makes me
snap!"

Nicholas laughed with him.

   "I don't know if he's bringing Daniel with him.  I only saw him once
when we met in Italy."

Nicholas remembered Sebastian's cousin, the well-built, strong man with his
thick auburn hair and a hand grip that almost squashed his fingers.
"What is he doing here actually?" he asked.

Marcus shrugged.  "Don't know.  Holiday perhaps."

   "Kay told me he has an apple orchard?"

Marcus nodded and swallowed the last bit of his lasagna.  "As far as I
understood he wants to sell it.  It's too much of a labour and doesn't
run well anymore.  It seems that everyone in South-Tyrol has an apple
plantation."

Nicholas leaned back in his chair.  "And now the most important
question:  Is he gay too?"

Marcus grinned.  "Why do you want to know?  Interested?"

Nicholas made a funny face.  "Yeah, sure!  Perhaps we can marry him off
to somebody."

   "Yes, he is."

   "Really?  Runs in the family?  Does he have a boyfriend?"

   "How should I know?  Ask him when you see him."  Marcus leaned over and
gave him a resounding kiss.  "Have you had enough to eat?"

   "Yes."

   "What now?"

   "Dessert."

Marcus gave him an amused look.  "Put it off until later, honey.  I
still haven't had a look at Ben's drawings."  He stood up and put the
plates into the dish washer.

   "Ok, I'll help you.  Or don't you want me around?"

   "Silly."




Everything seemed to be as if they had never parted.  Kay was sitting
close to Nick's side and chattered along. Opposite them, Sebastian
pressed himself deeply into one of those comfortable lilac armchairs;
his face illuminated by the soft  glow of candles standing upon the low
glass table.  He twisted his glass of wine between his fingers and was
unusually quiet.

Nicholas was excited that he brought Daniel along although he didn't
talk to him more than a few words.  Like Sebastian, Daniel was
uncommunicative this evening; or he was one of those people who didn't
talk much in general.

   "Did I tell you that I visited Bastian's work place several times?"
Kay said.  "It's a museum, full to the brim with strange pieces.  And,
actually, it's situated in a church!"

   "In a church?"  Nick's eyes caught a look from Sebastian.

   "Yeah, in a church, what's its name?"

   "Santa Maria Francesca."  Sebastian answered automatically.

That face, he thought, looking into Nick's open face.  Just the same
light like on the beach; the sickle of the moon glistened on the waves
breaking at the shore, the first touch of spring, the scent of rosemary
and orange blossoms the wind carried from the south ... the warmth of
his body ... inside ... the salty taste of his lips, the salty taste of
his ... Sebastian shook his head and blinked.  His eyes wandered to Kay
whose hair had grown longer and was now of the same colour as Simon's
and curled around his ears and over his forehead.  He smiled at him.

   "What are you doing the whole day when you aren't having a look at the
excavations?" Nicholas asked.

   "Reading," Kay answered.  "I have to catch up a lot.  And you know
what?  I Love it!"

Sebastian laughed.  "Indeed Nicki.  Slowly he becomes a professional in
Roman History!"

Nicholas laughed with him and nudged Kay's shoulder.  "That's great,
Man. You must tell me all about it someday."

   "When?  We will not be seeing each other!"

Nick sighed.  "That's right, too, pity!"

Sebastian's eyes were focused on Nick again.  That night in Italy seemed
ages away and yet so near that he could still hear sometimes the purring
deep down in Nick's throat, the outcry of passion muffled by the gentle
rolling of the waves.  The awakening next to him in the hotel bed, the
scent of his skin, of his hair and finally the pain setting in and
lingered to this day whenever he made love to Kay.  Not the pain of
regret or of love.  But the pain of shame.  He couldn't tell him the
truth.  Tell Kay the truth and look into his eyes again.  Kay was
so trusting...

   "How's the thing with your old castle, Danny?  How are the restorations
developing?" he heard Marcus' voice and re-adjusted in his armchair
again.

   "Well," Daniel cleared his throat.  "There's still a lot to do.  At the
moment I'm busy trying to save the wall paintings."

Nicholas listened to Daniel's accent.  It was guttural with a rolling
"r" in the words and he found it lovable.

   "What is the name of the castle?" he whispered to Kay but Daniel heard
the question.  "Castle Falkenstein.  It's been in my family's possession
for six hundred years."

   "It was built in the 13th century, high above a gorge near the town of
Meran,"  Sebastian threw in. "Its fresci are a treasure of courtly
painting.  Young men and women gathered around in dolce far niente,
flirting, playing games, etc."

   "Women and men playing games?  How boring!" Kay said.

   "Not the games you're thinking of," Daniel said winking.  "One of our
ancestors - the poet Victor von Scheffel - came once to visit the castle
and found it in very bad condition so he begged emperor Franz Joseph to
give money for necessary arrangements for a restoration.  He allowed it
since our family had run out of money a bit and promised to open parts
of the castle to the public.  Now again it's in full possession of our
family."

Nick looked most curious to Sebastian. "You have a poet in the family?"

   "Yes, he was sort of a Goethe.  Studied law and entered the civil
service.  Then he traveled around as free poet and painter."  He thought
a second and then declaimed -


                   "In the 'Black Whale' in Askalon
                   a man was drinking three days long.
                      until stiff as a broom stick
                     he lay upon the marble brick."


A deep laughter filled the room.

   "Your poet uncle seemed to have a sense of humor."

   "Was a funny old stick," Sebastian said.

   "So you do live in the castle, yes?"  Nick asked.  Daniel nodded.

   "But how do you repair it?  It must be difficult."

   "Daniel is restorer actually." Sebastian said and looked at him.  "Any
news from the Pacher-altar?"

   "No," Daniel sighed.  "I've given up hope of seeing it ever again."

Marcus lifted his head in interest.  "The Pacher-altar? What's with it?"

Daniel exchanged a look with his cousin.   "It's stolen.  I'm afraid."

   "What is it an altar for?" Nicholas asked.

   "Well, I have incomplete pieces of an altar made by Michael Pacher.  Not
very big."

   "Who's this?" Kay interrupted.

   "A South-Tyrol painter and wood carver from the 15th century." Nicholas
answered.  "He's very famous."  He looked at Daniel.  "Only pieces of an
altar?  What happened to the rest?"

   "The rest of it got lost during several wars. I missed the pieces that
were here two weeks ago.  Guess it's stolen.  Somebody must have broken
into the castle while I was in Meran for negotiations with customers of
my apple plantation."

Kay whistled through the little tooth gap.  "Stolen?  It's precious,
yes?  But who knew about it?"

   "Several museums in the surrounding area are keen on it."

Marcus' eyes began glistening.   "Why didn't you tell me, Danny.
Perhaps I can do something for you."

   "You mean it could appear on the art market?  I doubt it.  Every expert
will know that it can only be stolen."

   "Not when some country yokel comes along with it, saying he just found
it in the hay stable and wanted to have it valued."

Daniel laughed shortly.  "Good idea."

Nicholas watched Marcus sitting excitedly on the edge of his chair.  He
knew that special glistening in his lover's eyes ... Marcus had smelled
blood.  An uncomfortable feeling appeared in his stomach.  He remembered
the screen.  The Edward Burne-Jones screen ... A month ago Marcus was
about to destroy their relationship when he frantically tried to get the
only screen Burne-Jones had ever created.  Never again did he want to
repeat those days, when Marcus was missing in London and Nicholas had to
learn days later that Marcus had spent several nights with the owner of
the screen because that was the price to get it.  That Marcus didn't
bring home the screen, had been a sign for Nick that love had won out
over Marcus' greed.

He still glared at him.  That was the time Nick had taken refuge in Rome
where Sebastian lived and worked.  The night they both had spent
together had been somehow unavoidable.
It was like a long way that had led them both together for one single
night of consolation for Nicholas and of passionate oblivion for both of
them.  Nick regretted nothing, well, almost nothing.

   "Couldn't we visit the castle when we drive home?" Kay asked Sebastian.
"Last time we hadn't time for it."

   "Sure we can."

Marcus rose from his chair.  "Let me help you Danny.  Perhaps I can do
something for you."  He smiled at him, then whispered something into
Sebastian's ear.  Both disappeared into the hall.

   "Now, Daniel, tell us all about our apples, please."  Kay said
cheerfully.  "Why didn't you bring your boyfriend?"

   "Kay!" Nick hissed, "You're really embarrassing." He smiled and winked
then. "I've missed you certainly, Kay."

Daniel grinned friendly and drank from his wine.   "Who shall I bring
when there's no one I could bring, eh?"

   "Oh, I'm sorry."

Daniel shook his head.  "I'm the one who feels sorry.  You know the
choice of gay boys is limited when you're living in a small town.  No
match with Rome or Berlin.  In fact I know nobody."

Kay said nothing.  He just looked Daniel sympathetically up and down.
His fingers, holding the glass so carefully, seem strong enough to crush
an hard apple, the strong thighs almost split his black trousers and
under the cream coloured shirt a broad chest heaved.  What a waste, he
thought.

   "I'm sorry,  Daniel," he heard Nick's low voice.  "There's nobody you
can meet?  But there must be men."

Daniel sighed.  "Yeah I'm sure there must be, but where to find them?"
He smiled and Kay felt a little stab of pain because it was Sebastian's
ravishing smile.  Where was he actually?



Sebastian looked carefully through Ben's drawings until he stopped at a
bright painting.  "Look at this, Marcus.  It reminds me of Arshile
Gorky's Waterfall.  The same free brushes, the selection of colours.  Do
you think he knows about that painting?"

   "You're right, that's what I wanted to show you.  Not sure if he knows
Gorky.  Have to ask him.  But I really like this one; it's great."  He
looked once more at the abstract painting and closed the folder.  Then
he leaned against a bookshelf and watched Sebastian carefully.  "You're
quiet, my friend.  Problems with Kay?  You didn't tell him, did you?"

Sebastian shook his head. "I can't.  He would go, I'm sure.  He's too
involved now."

   "And you?  Are you involved?"

   "Apparently yes."  A mocking smile twisted Bastian's lips.  "Look at me,
Marcus, I AM INVOLVED.  Think of this!  That's the reason I can't tell
him.  How did you do with Nick?  How could you forgive him?"

Marcus folded his arms in front of his chest.  "There's not much to
forgive.  We both are quits of others.  We try to forget it."

Sebastian went around the table to Marcus.  "I'm happy you aren't mad
with me.  I couldn't stand it if you would never forgive me.  Don't know
what came over me.  It wasn't Nick's fault."

Marcus smiled indulgently.  "And Nick said it wasn't your fault.  So
whose fault was it?  Mine."  He nodded.  "Perhaps.  Stop talking about
it."  He stared into space.  "Although the image of you both naked and
united drives me crazy sometimes."  He stepped closer and his warm
breath brushed Sebastian's cheek.  "Now you know all about him, felt the
same as I feel when I'm with him.  I know you enjoyed it - like me."

Bastian wiped a strand from Marcus' eyes and kissed him softly on the
lips.  "Forgive me."

A soft "Ahem" made them turn their heads.  Daniel was standing in the
door frame and looked a bit confused.

   "Sorry, where can I find the toilet?"

   "The door opposite."

   "What if he heard something?"  Marcus asked when Daniel was gone.

   "Shit, guess I'll have to have a few words with him.  I hope he doesn't
believe there's something going on between you and me."  Sebastian
turned to Marcus.  "You didn't answer me."

   "Do I have to answer?  If I were mad with you, you wouldn't be here.
Can't live without you, you know it."

Sebastian smiled.  "Actually I expected your parents to be here.  Why
didn't they come?"

   "Don't know.  Perhaps it's too cold for them, but they sent me the usual
present."  Marcus was grinning sadly.

   "Let me guess.  A watch."

   "Right.  They know I hate watches, or they should know."

Sebastian knew that Marcus' parents lived at Tenerife, an island in the
Atlantic Ocean near the African coast.  He hadn't seen them for ages and
actually he didn't long to see them.  Somewhere deep down in his soul
was still burning the rejection and hate he had been confronted with
when Marcus parents had found out that they both were lovers and threw
him out of their house.  They had been fifteen and attended boarding
school in Switzerland.

   "I should count all the clocks and watches they have given me." Marcus
continued.

   "Oh, some of them you gave me, have you forgotten?"

Marcus sighed.  "Jesus, another year older.  Thirty!  That sounds so..."

   "Old?" Sebastian helped.  "By the way, which sort of coffin do you
prefer - pine or oak?"

Marcus laughed, roaring.  "Ok, you're right.  I'll get you for this at
YOUR 30th birthday."

   "Well, only three months left then, honey."  He paused.  "Tell me
rather, how's Simon?  Yesterday I met longhaired Ben.  Both seem to be
together?"

Marcus nodded.  "Yes.  Ben is a brave boy, indeed.  First I thought he
couldn't be serious about it but it really seems as if he's lost his
heart to Simon.   I'm not sure if he realizes what will come up for
him.  But Nick told me he's strong.  Perhaps he will hold on.  And Simon
needs somebody to look after him.  He isn't someone who can live alone."

Sebastian nodded.  "Let's hope for the best.  Ben knows about the
risks?"

   "I had a talk with him lately.  He said he informed himself about AIDS
and HIV infected people.  He knows apparently what he's doing." He looked
at his friend.  "You know what?  His parents are living at Sylt, they
sold their factory lately and are now having a good time. Simon has not
real money.  They don't know where Simon is living and in what state of
health.  Kay didn't tell them, as you know.  But he can't sell his ass
and drugs for a living and Ben's money is very limited.  I thought it
would be an idea to speak with Simon's parents and ask them to pay him
his inheritance.  I mean, probably he will die before he will get in
regularly.  What do you think?"

Sebastian looked thoughtfully and nodded, then.  "Splendid idea.  But
shouldn't Kay be the bearer of the bad news actually? Have you spoken
to Kay already?"

Marcus shook his head.  "I thought you could?"  He looked pleading.

   "Ok, I'll do it.  Let's see what he'll say."  He touched Marcus'
shoulder.  "Have you heard from Alex lately?"  he asked then.

   "Thought I could re-employ him again, but then, Nick would have a fit if
I did so.  Alex was after his life - or wanted to hurt him at least."

   "Right.  My, Marcus.  Sometimes you are really scatterbrained.  Aren't
you afraid he could do something more?"

   "Alex is in London with Karl to keep an eye on him."

   "Indeed?"

   "Yeah.  Although he did  some nasty things I don't think it's of any use
to let him suffer more than he already has.  Don't know if you'll
understand me, but I feel a bit responsible for his sorrow.  Perhaps his
son would still be alive if I hadn't been so "scatterbrained' " - he nodded
to Sebastian - and stubborn and had given Alex a job.  He needed the
money for his son's operation in the U.S. and since Alex wasn't able to
find another job he was out of money."

Sebastian nodded.  Yes, Alex tried to kidnap Nick, tried to kill him in
a car accident, frightened him with calls, almost burnt down Marcus'
exhibition hall... Alex' son was tied to a wheel chair after his car
accident and lost all strength for living.  It was Christmas Day last
year when he shot himself.

   "I like what you have done," he said aloud.  "He works for you again,
yes?"

   "So to say.  He doesn't know that the tea shop he works at as salesman
is owned by me.  Karl offered him the job."

   "Good." Sebastian smiled but Marcus didn't respond. "Don't know.  Karl
says Alex is depressed as ever.  Can't get over the suicide of his son,
he's all alone."

Sebastian sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.  "We won't figure
it out today.  Come, we're impolite to have left the guys alone so
long."




Daniel's head swirled from wine and talking.  Half laughing he
noticed that he wasn't used to it anymore.  He turned around in the
guest bed of Sebastian's flat and stared at the ceiling.  You've become
a damn hermit, my friend.  All the days alone in the castle... and if you
are really going to sell your plantation,  you won't meet anybody at
all.  But actually he wasn't concerned about it.  Daniel was one of the
people who loved to live alone and had no longing for company.  Except
for a certain loneliness in his bed, everything was fine.

He thought about Sebastian.  He certainly was very much different.  He
knew from his rare visits in Rome that his cousin had a pretty good
consumption of cute boys.  Well, he couldn't blame him for this.  His
newest guy seemed to develop into a more serious relationship although
Daniel wasn't convinced that Kay was the right man to hold Sebastian.
Sooner or later Sebastian would go.

Suddenly he remembered the talk between Sebastian and Marcus he had
witnessed.  All he had understood was that something happened between
Sebastian and Nick and that everybody knew about it except Kay.  Holy
shit.  Why he couldn't hold his prick under control.  Well, if he
thought about it, he himself wouldn't push Nick away....

He turned again, lying now on his stomach.  Uneasily he thought
about his departing soon.  Wouldn't it be a better idea to spend some
more days here among friends before he had to go back to loneliness?  He
decided to hang on a few more days and finally fell asleep.




   "Do you know that Daniel can't find a boyfriend?"  Kay asked.  They lay
in darkness, spooned together.

   "Yes, I know."  Kay's curls tickled Sebastian's nose.  "Don't know why
you clipped your hair that short."  he said, "You look lovely with
curls."

   "So?  Thanks, but don't change the topic.  It's such a waste."

   "What is a waste?"

Kay turned around to face his lover.   "That body of his."

   "Ah! You're horny for him?"

   "Nonsense.  When I say he has a great body it doesn't mean I want to be
his new boyfriend."

Sebastian grinned.  "What a relief, sweetie, I don't think I would share
you with him."  He rubbed Kay's back.  "So you have an idea?"

   "No."  Kay made a sad face.  "It must be awful to know that there's
nobody you could meet.  There must be gays around."

   "Kay, I have no clue about the entertainment situation in the mountain
villages.  Certainly there are a few bigger towns but how to find gay
bars?  Daniel employs a lot of season-workers for the apple harvest,
perhaps he was able to find a few bed comrades there but I doubt it.
Now he's determined to sell his plantation.  It's a hell of a work."

   "How did it happen that your family lives in Berlin and his in Italy?"

   "My mother fell in love with a German while he spent his holidays in the
town where they lived.  My mother was a 'good catch' so to say.  So she
went with him to Berlin where they opened a chemist's shop.  My father
is a pharmacist you know.  Soon after they had a whole 'chain' of
pharmacies in Berlin.  My mother's brother is Daniel's father.  They
stayed in South-Tyrol until now.  It's so much lovelier there than in a
huge town."

   "Except for finding a loverboy."

   "Yeah, except for that."

   "Is he the only son?"

   "No, there's an older brother but he never cared about apples."
Sebastian searched in the darkness for Kay's eyes.  They were closed.

   "Sweetie?  Are you sleeping?"

   "Almost."  Kay whispered.  "We must find him somebody."  His voice was
barely audible. "A good boy..."

Sebastian kissed his nose.  "Later."



                                ~~~

   "NOW you want to go out?" Ben couldn't believe it.

   "Someone must earn the money.  Or how shall I pay the rent?"  Simon
slipped into his pants and T-shirt.

   "Do something different! Read the 'Help Wanted' section of the
newspaper, sell bakery buns, whatever! You know I hate when you go out
and sell your stuff.  Not to mention that you left me here alone while
I thought we..."

Simon was speechless a moment then he came closer.  "What did you
think?"

   "Could live together."  Ben finished the sentence.

Simon looked surprised.  "Live with me?  Or take care of me?  Are you
here to satisfy your urge for pity?  You should have made an
apprenticeship as male nurse then."

Ben glared into Simon's eyes.  Then he walked past Simon, took his
jacket and left the flat.

   "Shit.  Ben!" Simon shouted, opened the door but he heard Ben's quick
steps going down the staircase and the door fell into the lock.

Simon groaned and cursed his sharp tongue.  He took the little plastic
bags of cocaine, opened one of them and rubbed a bit of it into his
nostrils and over his gums.  The others he stuffed into the pockets of
his jacket and trousers and left the flat.



Ben was hurt like hell.  So he thought about him!  Thought, all that
would hold him to Simon was pity!  How could he be so stupid?  Pity was
really the last thing Ben felt.  Compassion, yes.  Fear, too.  An
instinct of patronizing, perhaps.  And certainly a kind of love.

Doesn't Simon want him any longer?  Last night was only a slip because
Simon was a bit drunken and horny for him, because nobody else was
around?

Suddenly Ben wasn't sure anymore, that Simon wouldn't sell his ass
tonight.  Perhaps he was still just a randy little bastard and Ben meant
nothing to him.  Shit! he cursed out loud.

It wasn't long until he arrived at the barracks of blocks not far away
from the house where Nick's parents lived.  He entered the house and
stomped upstairs.  He pulled out his keys and opened the door.  He
almost bumped into his brother who, only dressed in his briefs, was on
his way into his room.

Ben moaned inwardly.  This could only mean that he had his girlfriend
with him, especially when he noticed the bottle of wine he carried.

Elias' face lit up.  "What are you doing here?  Thought you would stay
the night with Simon."

Ben shook his head.  He glanced into Elias' room and saw his girlfriend
stretched out upon the bed - likewise almost naked.

   "Have fun," he muttered and trotted into his own room.  "Mother isn't
here?" he asked over his shoulder.

   "No, out with her friend.  Veronica's already sleeping."

Ben nodded again and closed the door behind him.  He leaned against the
wooden door and closed his eyes.  He couldn't really believe that Simon
was dumping him.  The morning had been filled with tenderness, with
passion and Ben had submitted completely to Simon's experienced hands,
mouth and tongue.  It could have been so wonderful but now all that Ben
felt was disappointment.

What was it he had called him?  Snow White?  Ben stepped to the little
mirror hanging on the wall and met his tired face.  Yes, his skin was
light and emphasized the blackness of his hair.  He took off his glasses
and rubbed his eyes.  Perhaps he had over reacted.  Perhaps Simon was
already sorry for his words.

He was too tired to have even a shower, so he simply undressed and
crawled into bed.  Thank heavens that the walls were thick enough to
cover any noise from his brother's room.  Surely both were already at
it.  Disgusted, Ben evoked Simon's cheeky smile before his inner eyes,
the warmth of his body close to him and had suddenly a good feeling.
Everything would be fine again.



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


	"I guess it was Oliver's urge for wealth and prosperity
	that made him take more and more jobs than was good for him.
	He came home in the mornings, often totally over tired.
	Nights, he spent in the company of dubious persons he told
	me little or nothing about.  I guess, they were simply one
	number too big for him.

	His appearance suffered, he was getting dark ringed eyes and
	he wasn't in the mood for sex.  When he once again plopped
	into bed beside me, I examined furtively his arms and found
	a few tiny pricks.  Instantly I shook him awake and yelled at
	him as if he had lost his brain, but he waved me off sleepily.
	A few little Heroin trips now and again wouldn't do any harm
	and, in any case sooner of later everything would go up in
	smoke, I could go to hell as well.

	I was sitting there, naked amidst the smooth bed clothes,
	staring at him.  His face was pale, the skin dry and to me
	seemed as if he had lost weight.  Well, he was eating very
	little lately.  And what had he meant with "go up in smoke?"

	Well, I wasn't up to going to hell, albeit it was hurting
	pretty much to hear.  Was I up to losing him too?  What was
	wrong with me that nobody could endure with me in the long run?

	I was checking his pockets and found a little bag full of white
	stuff which didn't taste like cocaine.  Without hesitation I
	flushed it down the toilet.  Oliver made a scene when he woke
	up.  This was our first quarrel but not the last.

	I mentioned already that we were together for only five months
	and time was passing very quickly.  Oliver lost his job as
	model because he wasn't good looking enough anymore and he
	was despairing.  His charming personality was gone forever
	and I couldn't remember why I had fallen in love with him.

	But I stayed and tolerated his moods.  Money was short, we
	could just afford the rent for the flat,  but one day there
	wasn't even enough for this.

	Once again my brother came to my mind.  I had written him
	before, asking for help, but he didn't come.  Yet he just
	missed us I know now because I couldn't wait nor wanted it.
	Perhaps he shouldn't see me in the dilemma I had gotten
	myself into again.

	We were looking for a small flat and Oliver began to hang
	around at railstation Zoo to wait for customers he sold
	heroin and offered his arse."

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


End of Chapter 4, Chapter 5 follows.