Date: Fri, 26 May 2000 16:38:25 EDT
From: SSch191950@aol.com
Subject: The Knife That Twists Within, Part 19

Hi everybody, the story slowly comes to an end now.... hope you still
enjoy. Again thanks to everybody written me, you all were a big support.


The Knife That Twists Within
Part 19

by Stefan



Marcus tried to call Sebastian but nobody seemed to be there. This wasn't
strange of course, perhaps he and Kay had enjoyed Rome far into the night.


After the initial shock had subsided, along with a nearly sleepless night
surrounded by Nicholas' paintings and scent, Marcus was able to think more
clearly and the first thing that came to his mind was the workshop, Johannes
and the exhibition he ought to organizing. Johannes, he was sure, would be
cross with him... he had prepared nothing and the show was to open in only
a few days. Hopefully he'd managed it somehow.

Arriving at the workshop, Marcus found things much the same as always,
although Katja had cleaned up a bit. By this time she was aware that she
ought to leave things in their places to avoid his wrath. Even the little
spider-brooch he'd rediscovered in the cupboards days ago remained where
he'd left it. Remained to remind him of his guilt. This piece was the
beginning of all the nasty things that had happened. Of course that was
bullshit, Marcus thought. He was responsible for all of it ... for the
death of Alex's son, for the injuries Nick had sustained, for his leaving,
and for his own loneliness. It wasn't the brooch at all.

Never had Marcus carried another so deeply in his heart. He had always
borne the burden of parting so well - Sebastian, Simon, his cheating and
disease, the brief encounters he'd had with other men. But this time it
was different. This time he was in love. Really in love.

It was his responsibility all right. But the brooch remained a painful
reminder of his poor decisions. He should sell it, he realised and wrapped
a cloth around it, slipping it into his jacket pocket.
Looking around at all the treasures he had collected he felt empty.  His
fingers furtively touched the shiny bronze surface of Giambologna's
"Mercury" dancing on tiptoe, caduceus held high in the air, ready
to fly away - like Nicholas. None of these pieces held real meaning for
him anymore.

He glared into the dead and sightless eyes of the marble busts, peered
into cupboard doors at contents he hadn't looked at for a long time.
Eventually his gaze rested on the old sword stuck in the rock. The
memory came like a flash of lightning, a clicking of an automatic
camera ... Nick standing here, marveling at the piece, trying to pull
out the sword... Marcus behind him but neither of them able to pull it
out. "You are not the chosen one," he had whispered to Nick. Why had he
said it?  He knew right from the start that Nick was the one. Haltingly,
almost timidly Marcus brought his hand to the cross-shaped hilt of the
sword and tugged. The sword didn't move. Abruptly he gave up and turned.
Old fairy tales! Only in legends was the hero able to work miracles.

Despite Marcus' being so urbane, so rich, Nicholas was gone, so what was
the use?

Marcus caught sight of his image in glass of the cupboard door and it
made him think of a popinjay. "You are useless, like your money. The
best things in life can't be bought." His hand slid into his pocket,
seeking the brooch. Unwrapping it, he dropped it onto the floor, crunching
it beneath the sole of his shoe until it was no more than a red and gold
stain.

With renewed determination he joined Johannes in his work area where he
was busy explaining to Katja how to clean a dirty painting. Next to him
on the table were two half potatoes which Marcus knew he used for
the cleaning.

As Johannes turned, he was startled. Marcus looked horrible - at least
horrible for a usually good-looking man. His hair was dull, his eyes,
lacklustre, and he was unshaven. Johannes had never seen him with stubble
before.

   "God, Marcus!" the words escaped him. "Where have you been?"

Marcus tried to smile. "I'm sorry, my friend. It was terrible to leave
you alone with all the preparations for the exhibit." He looked at Katja.
"How are you? All right?"

Katja nodded. "There were several calls and visits from young men and
women who wanted to know if things would be ready. We told them yes,
of course."

Marcus nodded. "Then I left things in good hands."

   "Where's the screen? I thought you would bring it." Johannes asked.

   "The screen?" Marcus had forgotten the screen. "The screen. Yes."

He stared at a vague point at the wall. "It's in London. And it will
stay there. I'm not interested in it anymore."

Johannes sensed that something had happened to Marcus and sent Katja
away. Then he lowered his voice.

   "Nick was here. He was more than sad that you hadn't called him."

   "When was he here?"

   "Oh, several days ago."

   "You haven't seen him since then?"

   "Is he gone? You don't know where he is?"

Marcus shook his head. A lump had built in his throat and he wasn't
able to speak for a moment.

   "I've tried every place I can think of, Johannes. He's vanished from
the face of the earth."

   "That's impossible, Marcus." Johannes' voice was soothing as ever and
Marcus was thankful for the presence of the old man. At the same time he
realized that he knew nothing about Johannes. Why he worked such long days,
even some weekends. He'd never mentioned anything about family ... surely
because he hadn't any.

   "Do you have family, Johannes?"

The old man took off his glasses and looked astonished. "You've never
asked me such a question, why now?"

   "Because it's important to have one." Marcus mumbled.

   "This realization comes a bit late, if I dare say it. What, for
heaven's sake, did you do to make Nick go? By the way, Alex was
here before his departure to London. Have you met him?"

Marcus nodded. "Yes, I have met him. In London and here. He told me a
horrid story. A sad story, but I won't go into it now." Marcus looked
very tired. Dark rings hung below his eyes. "You didn't answer my
question."

   "You are my family." Johannes spread out his arms. "All this. I
couldn't live without this."

Marcus understood. He had always taken Johannes' understanding presence
and wise advice for granted, never caring that it was odd for a man of
his age to take Marcus' problems as a gay man so seriously. Johannes
never had asked stupid questions, had never let him feel that he was
an outsider because he loved men.

   "Have you really tried everywhere?" he heard Johannes low voice from
a distance. "What about Sebastian?"

   "Not able to reach him in Rome."

Johannes laid his hand at Marcus shoulder. "Go to him. I'm sure he will
help you."

In Marcus' eyes there raised a little smile. "I will. I can leave you alone
now? You will do this for me, handle the exhibit?"

   "Of course. It's all almost done and I can easily cope with the rest.
Nothing can be more important than your boyfriend now."

   "I will make up for this, I promise." Marcus squeezed Johannes' hand
and was gone.



As Marcus parked his car in front of his house he caught sight of a
familiar figure in the distance. He was out of his car quickly shouting,
"Kay!"

Kay ran over to Marcus. Startled by his appearance, he looked into his
pale face and asked,  "What's happened to you man? You look as if you've
come straight from a bar!"

Marcus ignored the question. "Where's Nick? Do you know?"

Kay hesitated with his answer, his allegiance conflicted. "Well, he was
cross that you never called."

   "Yes I know, Kay. Come, don't be evasive. Tell me where he is if you
know."

   "Can we go in first?"

Marcus guided Kay through the door and into the kitchen before pulling
a bottle of mineral water from the fridge.  "What are you doing here in
Berlin?" he asked, more calmly.

   "Came back to pack my suitcase." Kay beamed. "I'm going to stay with
Bastian in Rome."

   "Yes? Wonderful, I'm happy for you. You both get along well, yes? I
had hoped it would be so." He filled two glasses and handed one to Kay.
"Now, don't torture me, sweetie."

First Kay emptied his glass, put it back and said slowly, "Nick is in
Rome."

A moan escaped Marcus. "Of course he is. Where else. I've searched for
him in every other place."

   "Well, you know 'he who comes too late will be punished by life...'
to quote Gorbatschow." Kay looked at Marcus seriously. "To be honest,
it doesn't look good for the two of you." Kay wasn't sure if he should
tell Marcus the whole story; it wasn't his job but Nick's. So he said,
"Tell you what. Come with me to Rome tomorrow. You must speak to Nick
yourself. I can't help you with this. Oh, by the way, I was at Simon's
flat just now. I think he was happy to see me - and I am happy to have
him back. There was a guy with him, Ben. He said he's a friend of Nicki's.
He's very likable and I had a private talk with him."

Marcus nodded. "Yes, I've met him and I saw Simon yesterday. It seems he
won't be alone. Do you agree?"

   "Yes, Ben seems to really care and he told me that he had fallen in
love with Simon, despite everything."

   "Brave boy", Marcus muttered and Kay nodded.

   "Now, will you come with me?"

   "He's really alone with Bastian?" Marcus had a queasy feeling in his
stomach. "If I were you, I wouldn't have left him alone with Sebastian."
he said and regretted it instantly. He shouldn't wake any suspicions in
Kay.

   "Why not?" Kay seemed to be unsuspecting. "I know that Bastian likes
Nicki a great deal. But I cannot imagine that he'd jump straight into
bed with him as soon as I left the town."

   "Your words in God's ear!" Marcus laughed a half laugh. Yes. He would
fly to Rome with Kay tomorrow. All would be all right. He was sure.

                                 ~~~

Sebastian took Nicholas' hand from where it lay beside his leg and
squeezed his fingers. Exchanging smiles, the timidness and awkwardness
between them dissolved, though each was aware of the guilt that remained.
The attraction between them was not diminished but had shifted in intensity,
as if quelling the physical need had allowed them to shift focus or reach
a higher level.

They drove along the coastal road, Nicholas lost in thought as the rough
sea crashed spectacularly below. Should he tell Marcus? Could he go on
as if nothing was happened? Belong to love but not honesty? Would Marcus
forgive him? Would Nicholas forgive Marcus if something had happened with
the foreign man? Nicholas wasn't sure. At least they would be equal then.
But the intention of love was not to be equal to your lover in cheating.

Nicholas tipped his head against the headrest and closed his eyes.

   "Tired?"

   "A bit. We didn't sleep much last night."

   "True." Sebastian's lightly stroked Nicholas' leg. "Perhaps Kay never
called and will simply come back," he continued.

Then the possibility of repeating last night would be nil, Nicholas
thought. And that would be good.

Two hours later they arrived at the big loop around Rome and Sebastian
took the exit Via Aurelia until he reached the Gianicolo with its winding,
narrow streets. They passed St. Maria in Trastevere, the square full of
young people and old men sitting in front of a bar.

To Nicholas it was now a familiar view and he would miss it. Berlin was
loud and noisy with its cars and fumes and construction sites. The hectic
pace of mostly unfriendly people, rushing from work to home and from home
to fill their spare time with pointless activities and things was its
own kind of monotony. Sure Rome's traffic was chaotic too, but it seemed
to Nicholas that it was chaos only in pursuit of relaxation. The people
were calmer, enjoying their lives.

Nick imagined living such a life. His mind raced with thoughts of books
he might read, paintings he might paint, love he could share.


Abruptly he came down to earth as Sebastian stopped in front of the
house.

   "Have you thought about how we shall spend the rest of the day,
Nicki? Any special wishes?" Sebastian stepped out of the car and pulled
out their bags.

   "No. I don't have any wishes."

   "So? Perfectly happy? I've never seen a guy who was perfectly happy."

Nicholas followed him into the house.

    "Are you very disappointed that we didn't drive to Naples?"

Sebastian looked surprised. "You remember that?"

   "I remember everything." Nicholas whispered. "And it will stay in
my heart forever. But we can't repeat it. Even if Marcus and I should
break." He raised his head, looking directly into Sebastian's eyes.
"You know I like you very much. And if Kay wasn't ..."

Unwilling to complete the thought, Nicholas reached for his bag.

   "What would happen then?" Sebastian took the bag from his hand and
began to climb the stairs. Of course he could finish the sentence for
himself. If only things were different...

   "Do you love Kay?"

Sebastian let the bags go and turned to Nicholas.

   "I do," he said simply and without the smile that so often caused
Nick to wonder if the older man was making a joke or not. "I love you
too, but I think my feelings for Kay are stronger now. Can you
understand?"

   "Not exactly."

Now Sebastian smiled. "You will when you grew a little bit older,
angel. Feelings are complicated to explain, therefore you should simply
follow your stomach, not your brain. It's mostly the right decision,
believe me." He stepped closer and took Nicholas' chin. "So what does
your stomach tell you?"

   "That I'm hungry."

Sebastian burst out in laughter. "All right, Nicki. Let's see what we
can find."


They spent a peaceful evening on the terrace, sipping a light wine and
watching the last sunbeams die behind old pine trees. Nicholas wasn't
anxious about the night, because Sebastian had made a decision. And he
was glad about it. More than glad. Nicholas realized he would never be
happy in a relationship built in the wake of grief - his, Marcus' and
Kay's.

Finally they called it a day, going into their rooms and Nicholas slept
much better than he had for a long time.


Shortly before noon the next day Nicholas and Sebastian were preparing
to take a walk to the Palazzo Corsini and its museum when a taxi came
to a stop in front of the house with squeaking brakes. Curiously Nicholas
peered through the box trees at the entrance and recognized Kay's funny
haircut. His heart thumped, perhaps Kay had news of Marcus. He ran to
open the gate, but stopped halfway when Marcus stepped out of the taxi.

It was as if a medium-sized atom bomb had exploded within him. Unable
to make a step, to move at all, he simply stood there staring until
Marcus' eyes met his gaze. Though shaven, Marcus looked pale and somewhat
haggard as if he had lost weight.

Kay waved, shouted something and pointed at the gate finally getting
Nicholas to move. He opened it and again stood petrified at the entrance.

   "Hey, what's the matter with you, sweetie? Aren't you glad?"

   "Yes."

   "I found him at home, despairing because he couldn't find you", Kay
whispered. "But I didn't tell him anything. It's up to you."

The taxi departed and Kay went into the house, leaving Nicholas and
Marcus alone.

   "I thought I would never see you again."  Marcus voice hummed and
Nicholas felt his knees weaken.

   "And I thought I would never hear your voice again. Kay found you
finally."

Marcus stepped up to him and tried to embrace him but Nicholas took a
step backward. This was all that Nicholas had wished for, but now he
couldn't bring himself to touch his lover. Not before things were
cleared up.

Marcus frowned but didn't say anything. He simply followed Nicholas
into the house where he caught Sebastian and Kay in a tight embrace.
He smiled weakly and set down his suitcase.

   "Hi, Bastian. I hope you don't mind that I've descended upon you.
May I stay here a bit?"

Sebastian beamed. "But of course you can!" He rushed to Marcus and
embraced him too. "Good to see you again, old guy, although you're
looking terrible!"

Marcus' cheeks flushed and he stared down at his shoes. "Yes, I know.
I haven't slept much the last few nights and I forgot to eat I guess."

Sebastian looked at him attentively. "We'll leave you both alone, ok?
But I warn you, don't invent any odd stories, Nick had a call from Alex
and then he called your cellphone. Guess who answered it?"

Marcus' face grew even paler and he closed his eyes with the news. His
cellphone, God Damnit! Apparently George had answered it. Now he had the
last piece of the puzzle.

He turned to Nicholas who was chattering with Kay and nodded slowly.
"Thanks Bastian."

   "It's true?" Sebastian could hardly control his voice. "You fucked
the guy to get the screen? And where is it? Already in your bedroom?"
His voice was piercingly cool. "You are nuts, Marcus. It couldn't be
worth it."

Marcus looked at him as if he was a stranger. "Of course it wasn't worth
it. And I didn't fuck around!"

Kay and Nicholas stopped chattering immediately, turning their heads.

Sebastian motioned for Kay, "Let us go upstairs." Kay understood, gave
Nick an encouraging smile and vanished with Sebastian.

   "Now, have you anything to tell me?" Nicholas asked.

Marcus' heart sank. "Let's go outside, please." He lead the way to the
patio in the ground floor, taking a seat in the comfortable armchair as he
waited for Nicholas to sit as well.

The empty wine bottle from last night still sat in the ice bucket, the
used glasses beside it. Regarding them, Marcus asked, "You found
consolation with Bastian, yes? He's a good listener, I know. What else
have you done with him?"

Nicholas couldn't believe his ears. "I don't think you are in any
position to make strange comments about me and Sebastian! Tell me,
rather, what have you done with the guy in London? And don't lie
to me, Marcus. I know everything."

Marcus laughed shrilly. "You know everything?" He bent over. "Then
tell me what do you know."

Tears welled in Nicholas' eyes, but he blinked them away. "I know
that you were fucking a man to get the screen from him." He gazed
triumphantly into Marcus' burning eyes. Indeed he looked pretty
terrible, but still he was the most beautiful man Nick had ever
seen.

   "That's only the half truth.  The man - George - bought the screen
from Carlisle and offered it to me if I would spend a week with him."

   "Which included the right to fuck?"

   "Right." Marcus licked his dry lips. His throat was so dry that it
hurt.

Nicholas saw it and said, "Shall I bring you something to drink?"

   "Please."

After Nicholas had gone, Marcus buried his face in his palms. Kay was
right. Nick was like a hurt child, and nothing that he could say now
would change it. It was over. He would have loved to be able to slink
away like a wounded animal, to curl up and die someplace.

Nicholas put a carafe of orange juice on the table and poured glasses
for each of them. Marcus grabbed it thankfully and drank, gathering his
thoughts so he could begin again.

   "Of course the deal included fucking him. Nick, how can I explain
this to you? I was mad. Insane. I never realized what was important in
life." He looked deeply into Nicholas red eyes. Apparently the boy had
been crying in the kitchen. "I did nothing to him. Before he could bring
me to fuck him I left the house and the screen. I am not interested in
it anymore." His look was now pleading. "You are all that I'm interested
in. Believe me. I know I can never make it up to you. Perhaps that will
have to be my punishment. But I want that you know that I bitterly regret
my actions."

Nicholas stood up, tucked his hands in the pockets and paced aimlessly
around the patio.  "I can't believe you, Marcus." He turned to him. "I
simply can't."

Marcus nodded. Of course he couldn't. "There's something else. I know
now who it was that was after you... all the accidents. It was Alex.
We had a talk and I was afraid that he might still try to do something
terrible to you. That's why I've been so desperate to find you. And
because..." No, he couldn't say "I love you". It would sound like in
a soap opera. Nick was hurt too deeply, he wouldn't believe him anyway.
Simon was right. Everybody was right. He had certainly behaved like the
world's biggest dickhead.

Laboured, he rose from his chair and threw a longing gaze at Nicholas'
back. "I think I should go now. It's no use."

He left the patio and went to the entrance hall to grab his suitcase.
Sebastian and Kay were surely celebrating their reunion in the bedroom and
he wouldn't disturb him. He would call later.

   "Why should you go?" he heard Nicholas shouting from outside. "You
are not up to traveling. I will go. There's nothing to keep me here
anyway. Do you know when the next flight leaves for Berlin?"

Marcus shook his head.

   "Doesn't matter. I'll wait at the airport until it goes."

Nick bounded up the stairs, entered his room, and threw all his belongings
into his bag. Returning to the hall, Marcus stood still dumbfounded.

   "Tell Sebastian that I've gone home. And give Kay all my love, will
you? I'll call him when I'm back."

   "Nicholas," Marcus shouted. "How will you get to the airport? I'll
call you a taxi." Quickly he leafed through Sebastian's notebook and
dialed a number.

   "Wait, honey. The taxi will take some time. I'll come with you."

Nicholas stopped outside the house. Marcus would go with him to Berlin?
He doubted that he would be able to bear the closeness.

   "What about Sebastian?"

   "I left him a note."

   "That was a very short stay." Nicholas said, sarcastically. Marcus
remained silent.

Marcus remained silent during the drive to the airport, as well as during
the two hour wait for their flight. And he barely spoke a word as they
sat together in the airplane until Berlin appeared beneath them.

   "Don't say this is the end, Nicholas," he said in a very low voice.
But Nicholas was fighting nausea and the pain in his ears.

   "I don't know. Give me time to think about it, yes? I'm not so
innocent as you think."

   "What do you mean by that?"

Nicholas shook his head. "Perhaps I will tell you someday. But first
I have to think." He looked into Marcus eyes. It was hard not to want
to kiss his lips, not to touch his hand. Despite feeling so awful, his
body longed for him. But he wouldn't give in. Not yet. Perhaps never.

Marcus disturbed his thoughts with sharp whispering close to his ear.
"I want to know what you meant!" His hand had gripped Nick's upper arm
painfully firm.

   "Leave me alone," Nicholas tried to get free. The guilt inside him
hurt more than Marcus' firm grip. Had he any right to be in a huff? His
own actions were no better justified than Marcus', even if they had come
about because of his loneliness... yet Marcus' actions were calculating,
greedy...

Again Marcus squeezed his arm. "Tell me!"

Furious, Nicholas flashed at Marcus and hissed: "You want to know? Fine,
I slept with Sebastian. Are you satisfied now?"

It was out and Nick breathed audibly. Still his gaze held Marcus' glare
until a dangerous spark appeared in the now black eyes.

"So you did it," Marcus said surprising calm. "You did it." The firm
grip had never left Nicholas' arm. "And now do you think we are equal,
yes? Which of you began the game? Bastian?" He laughed out loud briefly.
"And he stood there and reproached me! Bastard." Nervously he ran his
fingers through his hair. "And who's fucking whom next? You won't miss
Kay, will you?"

Nick would have loved to slap Marcus in the face, but he stared at the
back of the man in front of him and chewed on his lower lip. Again he
felt the nausea rise and he swallowed fiercely. Marcus complied with
the request to fasten his seat belt and poked Nick to do the same.

Once again composed, he asked. "It's true, isn't it? You haven't told
me a lie because you want to hurt me?"

   "No, it's true." Nicholas' voice was flat, emotionless and tired.
"It's not Sebastian's fault. It just .... happened. One time." His
voice was hardly audible.

Marcus closed his burning eyes. Again quick glimpses flashed through
his mind ... Nick naked and open ... under him ... legs wide spread ...
stroking his glistening cock ... his flushed voluptuous face .... and a
smile afterwards which sent him to heaven ... always.

When the plane reached the gate, Marcus suddenly released his belt,
jumped up and pulled his bag from the overhead compartment.

   "Marcus?" Nick called after him, trying to keep up with him as he
ran through the long jetway and into the airport area. Finally Marcus
slowed down his walk, eventually coming to a halt.

   "When I asked Sebastian if we should tell you and Kay about what we'd
done, he said we would do the right thing when it was the right time. I
guess it wasn't the right time."

Marcus avoided looking at Nick.

   "But it had to be said."

   "Yes." Marcus took his bag again and went out with Nicholas.

They summoned two taxis. "I'll call you, Marcus. I promise, but I have
to be alone for a while. And I think you do too." With that he stepped
into the taxi.


                          ~~~


Sebastian and Kay didn't celebrate their reunion in the way that Marcus
had supposed. Instead, Sebastian had questioned Kay about Marcus and
Simon. An hour later they found Marcus' note on the sideboard in the
hall and both were sad.

   "Marcus doesn't say if they went back because they reconciled or
because they broke up." Kay pointed out as he sat in Sebastian's lap
playing with his hair.

Eyes on the garden and the box trees Sebastian muttered, "Yes, Marcus
is really a clod. I'm sure they broke up. What do you think?"

Kay shrugged. "If Nicki's at home I will call him later." He stopped
his stroking. "Now tell me what you did alone here."

Sebastian started. "Dreamt about you all night, sweetie."

   "Indeed? All alone in the bed?"

   "All alone in that bed." It was not a lie, of course. Sebastian
relished the feel of Kay's warm body and he was happy to have him back.
He had missed his funny, cheerful lover and it didn't make any sense to
fill Kay's heart with the sorrow of a story now finished. He tried to
justify his feeling concerning Nicholas because he still didn't regret
what had happened, but he liked Kay too much to hurt him by telling the
tale. What would happen if Nick told Marcus? Kay would likely find out
eventually...  Sebastian decided to leave such thoughts for later.

   "By the way," he continued, "Marcus admitted that the London story
is true. Although I hadn't time to ask him about it in detail." His
fingers roamed over Kay's belly and slipped under his pullover.

   "Poor Nicki." Kay muttered. Yes, poor Nicki, Sebastian thought.
Poor me. Poor you. He felt terribly guilty.

Kay's hot breath tickled his ear. "Love me," he whispered.

   "I always love you, Kay."

Kay gazed inquiring into his face. "You do?" he asked seriously.
"Why don't I believe it?"

   "Why don't you believe it," Sebastian repeated slowly and thoughtfully.
"Perhaps because I'm an arsehole. Perhaps because I don't deserve you."

Kay's fingers slid over Sebastian's strained face, outlining the strong
nose and the sensual lips.

   "Perhaps two arseholes make a good pair", he whispered. "I've never
loved anyone ... just like you."

   "And now?"

   "I want you to love me. That's all."

There was a pain in Sebastian's heart. Certainly he didn't deserve this.
But he brought his lips to Kay's and closed his mouth with a long kiss,
roaming his hand over Kay's body, tugging at his trousers and slipping
into his briefs.

During the next hour Sebastian tried to forget everything and succeeded.
His ears were full of Kay's panting and purring and he loved it. To deny
there wasn't a difference between Nick and Kay was foolish. Of course
there were a difference. Even with his closed his eyes he would have
felt it. And the point when he could have told Kay was over now.
Sebastian realised that he would forever despise himself for it.

                                  ~~~

The view from Nicholas' window was dull and dead like his heart. How
long had it been since Marcus had picked him up here? The big trees
in the middle of the yard were leafless, naked branches, motionless
and lonely in the cold wind, bearing no similarly to the pines and
cypresses of Rome. Not that he was actually looking at the yard - the
image of Marcus' face as they parted at the airport continued to fill
the space before his eyes. Above him, his neighbour stomped like a
restless elephant from one corner of the flat to the other, the radio
turned up loud.

The ringing of the telephone surprised Nick, apparently it was in
working order after all. But then Marcus had been paying all his bills,
hadn't he. Slowly he lifted the receiver.

   "Nicki?" He recognized Kay's voice.

   "Yeah."

   "Are you all right? Why did you leave us so abruptly without a word?"

   "I thought Marcus left a note."

   "Indeed he did. But it doesn't say much."

Nicholas' thoughts raced. Surely he couldn't tell Kay what he had
admitted to Marcus about sleeping with Sebastian. "I have to be alone
for a while, Kay. Marcus told me everything. There was something with
the guy in London."

He heard nothing but Kay's breath. "I know. Sebastian told me already."
His voice sounded sad. "Don't say you've broken up with Marcus, please.
Can't you forgive him?"

If you only knew! Nicholas tried desperately to keep his voice under
control. "I don't know. I have to think about it."

   "But you could have thought about it here! It makes no difference
where you are thinking. At least you would have company. I don't like
the thought of you being alone there."

   "Kay. I'm not alone. I will go to Matthias, and there's Ben... and
Simon. I haven't seen them for a long time."

He heard Kay sighing. "And where is Marcus? At home?"

   "Think so."

   "Well, you have our number. Please call, will you?"

   "Yes. Bye, Kay. My regards to Bastian."

   "Will do. Take care."

Nicholas stood in the middle of his room and remembering suddenly that
most of his things were at Marcus' house. Only the clothes he had taken
to Rome were here, and all of them dirty now. He couldn't even paint...

Desperately he ruffled his hair and let out a frustrated cry. Fortunately
he still had the most of the money he'd earned from his paintings.

After a short visit to the supermarket and the art supply shop Nicholas
returned and put away the groceries before sorting out all the utensils
he'd bought; pens, brushes, paper, palette, rubber, paints, chalks,
clothes, scissors. It had cost a small fortune but he wasted no thought
on it.

He threw himself into his favourite armchair, setting his feet upon a
small upholstered chair and began to draw with thin black chalk. He
envisioned Sebastian's house and his fingers followed his memories.
Feverishly the chalk darted over the rough paper, followed by his middle
finger to smudge out the lines, merging with various tones of green chalk,
lightening with white and bright red for the roof. Yes, that was it. With
a critical eye he examined his work then tossed it aside.

This time he ran into the kitchen, filled a glass full of water and opened
the box containing the water colours. He blocked out the place for the
house, painted a very blue heaven and all the box trees and junipers he
could remember. He was still painting when darkness descended accompanied
by his grumbling stomach -- reminding him that he hadn't eaten since the
morning. Abruptly he stopped, setting aside the work and went into the
kitchen to have some bread and butter.

Only drawing or painting stopped the pain inside him, and now without
the work in front of him, the pain was back with a vengeance. What was
he going to do? He must make a plan... there was money enough for now he
thought, but he couldn't go on like this indefinitely.

Unhappily he sat on the couch beside his still unpacked bag. Was it so
bad, what Marcus had done? Was his own crime so bad? Or were both so bad
that their relationship should end? Looking through the window, he saw
lights coming on in flats all around the square. And behind each of them
lived people who had their own sorrows, just as he did.

Was it even his decision to make anymore? Since he'd told Marcus about
Sebastian... If he were able to forgive Marcus, would Marcus forgive him?
Suddenly Nicholas felt very tired. He stretched out beside the bag and
fell asleep, undisturbed by the stomping of his neighbour, the drunken
voices coming up from the yard or the soft rain beating on his window
sill.


Coming awaking was terrible. His neck hurt from the lack of a pillow
and his arm, which he had used as cushion, was numb. Nicholas shivered
at the room's chill and he sat up to rub his arm.

Instantly the memories were there again, all the mixed feelings, shame,
anger, disappointment and still, remarkably, love. Was he indeed doomed
to sit here waiting for Marcus to call? Would there ever be a call?
Nicholas recalled promising Marcus that he would call, so was Marcus
sitting and waiting for HIS call?  And what would they say to each other?

Looking at his watch, Nicholas realised it was time to go to the academy -
and then remembered it was Saturday. Probably Ben would spend the day with
Simon.

A ring at his door startled him. Marcus! He jumped, literally, to the
door and opened it. Disappointed, he glared at the elderly man before
him, box tucked beneath his arm, slip of paper held in his hand.

   "Good Morning. Nicholas Zellner?" he asked.

   "Yes."

   "I have a registered package for you. Express from Italy."

Surprised Nick raised his eyebrows while the man held out the slip and
a pen. Hastily Nicholas scribbled his name, took the small parcel and
read the name of the sender. Of course it was from Sebastian. Curiously
he ripped off the adhesive tape, removed the cover and found a letter
and an even smaller box with keys. His fingers trembled as he unfolded
the letter and read Sebastian's fancy handwriting,

Darling,
Are you in the mood to watch over my flat? I think I forgot to empty
the fridge and the things could be rotten by now. Of course you don't
have to, but if you're in need of new surroundings, feel free to use it
as long as  you want. I haven't told Kay our secret. Not sure if I ever
will. Call me.
--Sebastian


Beneath the text, Sebastian had written the address and drawn a map
illustrating its location.

Nicholas closed his fingers tightly around the keys, recognizing that
the flat wasn't far from Marcus' house... Dangerously near but also
perhaps, a promising reminder. He remembered Sebastian's description
of the flat - an apartment at the top floor with a nice view of the
forest. Of course he would love to have a look at it - at least to empty
the fridge. Add to this, his curiosity of being somehow close to Sebastian
again; perhaps he would smell his scent - in the bed or on the towels.


To be continued