Date: Fri, 1 Oct 1999 06:29:53 EDT
From: Stefan  <SSch191950@aol.com>
Subject: The Knife That Twists Within/Part 6


The Knife That Twists Within
----------------------------

Part 6



   "Bastian, go home, I'll look after this by myself." He ruffled Nicholas'
hair. "Take Nicholas with you."

   "To my home? Or yours?" Sebastian's voice sounded irritated.

   "I want to stay with you, Marcus."

   "Come on, baby, go with him. There's no need for you to remain here. It's
not exactly pleasant."

The Police Officer tried to hide his annoyance. Obviously he'd got into a
party of queers.

   "If you finally have sorted out your problems, I would like to ask you
some questions, Sir."

Three pairs of eyes stared at the Officer until Marcus turned and gave
Nicholas a quick smile. Then he walked across to the waiting man and
dissapeared with him in the adjoining small room.



Sebastian's silence slowly got depressing. Unspeaking he unlocked the
door to Marcus' house and let Nicholas slip in. In the hall he stood and
asked "Tired? Do you want to go straight to bed again?"

Nicholas shook his head. "No, I couldn't sleep anyway."

Sebastian sighed. He still had his scorched jacket with him which he threw
over a chair.

   "Come, talk to me, Sebastian. What do you think about it?"

Sebastian didn't answer. Instead he went into the living room and poured
himself a glass of whisky. He drank slowly. "I have no clues about it," he
said then quietly.  "I think it must have been an accident, don't you think
so?" He looked at the young man standing in the doorway, undecided whether
to enter or not. "There was this heating plate. Maybe it had a defect in the
wires or something."

He sat down in one of the lilac coloured armchairs. "What else could it be?"

   "Yeah," Nicholas sighed and sat in another chair. "Do you think Marcus will
be home soon?"

   "How should I know, my heart?" He took another gulp. "Want some coffee or
something?"

Nicholas nodded, rose and went into the kitchen. Sebastian followed him.
"This Kay," he began hesitantly, "do you know him well?"

Nicholas' lips twisted into a little grin. "You like him?"

   "I asked first."

Nicholas put some coffee into a mug and waited for the water to heat up. "Ok,
no I don't know him all that well. We've met only ... three times, four times
including today. He's helping me to look for Simon."

   "Huh? Simon?"

   "Yes, Simon. I gave him a photo I've made from the painting and he displayed
it at the "Moonbreaker"."

Sebastian nooded and watched Nicholas pouring the boiling water into the pot.

   "You fancy him?" Nicholas asked while he stirred the coffee.

   "Me? Well..."

   "Ah, come on, he's probably as 'hot' as you said Simon was."

Sebastian had to laugh. "Yeah, probably. He even remembers me at him, some of
his gestures, the way he talks..." He approached Nicholas and murmured,
"Where's your painting of Marcus? You must have finished it, right?"

   "How do you know?" Nicholas asked surprised but didn't really wait for an
answer. "It's upstairs in the bedroom to scare the housekeeper."

   "To scare the housekeeper?" Sebastian laughed. "I don't think that anything
could make Anna scared or feel faint! Has she said something?"

   "No. Only that she liked the painting!"

   "Did she?" Sebastian raised his eyebrows. Then he grabbed Nicholas' hand
and dragged him with him upstairs.

There Sebastian lifted a tiny pair of white underpants lying on one of the
chairs and said grinning, "So good old Marcus went without his pants!" He
turned.

   "I only hope the call didn't disturb something."

Nicholas blushed a bit. "No." He pointed to Marcus' portrait. "There it is."

   "Ah, right beside Simon and what's that? Paul's mask! You loved it, didn't
you?"

Sebastian stepped closer to inspect the picture. "Really good," he muttered.
"It's been a long time ago since I saw him this way." Nicholas drank nervously
from his coffee.

   "Did he say when he's leaving for New York?"

   "No, we didn't talk about it."

Sebastian stepped closer to him. "And what you are planning on doing, all
alone in the house? Some wild parties with your friends?"

   "What are you talking about? I don't know even if I'm going to stay here,
I don't like the idea of being alone with Anna. Moreover I must go to the
academy to register for the new semester. And I'll be seeing Matthias. So you
see, I've got a lot to do."

   "Matthias, your friend? The one I saw standing with Kay?"

   "Yes."

Sebastian looked at his watch. It was 4:40 in the morning and he felt suddenly
very tired. He began to unbutton his shirt, pulling it out of his black
trousers. Nicholas watched uneasily. He finished taking off his shirt,
and swung it over his shoulder.

Nicholas gaze went to the painting of Sebastian and found he hadn't changed
at all since then. There was still the same fuzz of blond hair on his chest
and Nicholas would have liked to run his fingers through it, the smooth skin
on his shoulders, along the arms and around his waist. Sebastian stepped even
closer and whispered into his ear, "I'm tired. Is the guest room still ready
as always?"

Nicholas couldn't scarcely speak but managed to whisper "Yes".

   "Ok," he stepped out of the door, "if something happens wake me, won't you?"

Nicholas nodded. He began to undress himself and crept into the bed. There
was still the scent of Marcus on the sheets and the pillows, so he snuggled
deep under the blankets and fell asleep.


                                    ~~~


Rudolf Zellner sat at the kitchen table and bit into his morning roll. It was
a bright sunny day; the sunbeams crept over the plastic table cloth, decorated
with little flowers, and lit up his face. He tried to read the morning paper
but his eyesight was getting weaker these days.

   "I'm going now. Shall I bring back something special?" Nicholas' mother
shouted from the tiny corridor outside.

   "Nothing special, dear. Get what you like."

   "All right then. Bye, and go to bed soon." Vera slipped into her coat and
went off to her daily work at the supermarket where she worked as a cashier.

Rudolf nodded and tried to suppress a jawn. He had been home only a few
minutes after the night shift. He poured another cup of tea and leafed
through the pages. His gaze got stuck at a report about the opening of an
exhibition held by Marcus Weidenbruch. There were several pictures which
showed the Senator for Culture standing with a glass in his hand and
apparently listening to explanations. Suddenly Rudolf recognised his son,
standing awkwardly in front of a painting which showed the smiling face of a
young blond man. Rudolf stood up and searched for his glasses.

Back at the table he read the section once more.

   "Marcus Weidenbruch, rich Art promoter, dealer of Art and one of the most
famous men in town,  yesterday evening opened his exhibition for unknown young
Artists.  Edgar Fischer, Senator for Culture, made a short visit to emphasise
the importance of supporting young Artists in town.
Right picture: his newest discovery, Nicholas Zellner, standing in front of
one of his paintings, which were a great success. Below: N. Zellner together
with M. Weidenbruch. Rumours are reporting that the young man is Weidenbruch's,
known as being homosexual, newest boy friend."

A drop of marmalade dropped from his roll. Rudolf read the section a third
time. There was no mistake. Hastily he licked the sticky marmalade from his
fingers. What did they mean with 'newest boy friend'? Did they mean to infer
that his son Nicholas was gay, too?

Rudolf let the newspaper drop on the table and stared out of the window. This
couldn't be true. What rubbish these journalists sometimes wrote! He
leaned back in his chair. Well, Vera had told him that Nicholas was friendly
with this fairy Weidenbruch and he didn't like the thought. But if the boy
loves his daubing that much, so be it.

Rudolf sighed loudly. But if he ever laid his dirty hands on his son ...
Rudolf's hands began to quiver ... he didn't know what he would do then. Vera
hadn't told much about the exhibition yesterday, but it seemed she was
certainly hiding something. She must know  - if this was true - that their
Nicholas was the object of Weidenbruch's filthy desire... Pray Heaven
that it wasn't true!

Rudolf stood up, intending to have a word with his wife if she came back in
the early afternoon. With a heavy tread, he crossed the kitchen straight to
the bedroom and closed the door behind him.



Nicholas wasn't sure what his mother wanted to talk about. He had called her
early that morning, shortly after Marcus' return. Marcus had explained that
the cause of the fire was almost certainly the defective water kettle.
Nicholas had never seen such an appliance in the room, but that didn't seem
important. Marcus had called all young men and women whose paintings had been
destroyed and had promised them compensation, although he knew very well that
there wasn't any really adequate 'compensation' for a destroyed object of Art.
But is was all he could do. Sebastian was vanished to his own flat and
Nicholas' mother wanted to discuss something with him in private.

He knew that Anna Weyler would soon show up so he had suggested a meeting in a
cafe, his mother know. He thought it a bit odd that she wasn't at work but
she had said, she had taken a day off.

At the cafe she looked him now up and down and then said quietly, "Why didn't
you tell me that you are living at Mr. Weidenbruch's house?" Without waiting
for an answer she continued, "I watched you yesterday intently. Not only are
you looking good - all theses new and apparently expensive clothes - but you
seem to be happy. Are you?"

Nicholas sighed deeply. "There was a fire last night in the exhibition hall.
Luckily we had taken  away all the pieces that had been sold, so the damage
was limit."

   "A fire?" his mother asked startled. "Anybody hurt?"

   "No. The police told us it was a defect water kettle."

   "And your paintings?"

   "They are safe, except one." His face lit up. "They are all sold, mum!
Imagine that! At astronomical prices!"

   "Really?" His mother smiled. "Why don't you tell us everything, darling?
Is it ... is it because you'e living with Mr. Weidenbruch?"

His gaze was suddenly angry. "How do you know?"

Vera frowned. "I had an 'encounter' with your housekeeper, I've forgotten her
name."

   "Anna!" Nicholas laughed unhappily. "I should have known. This old
chatterbox! And? What did she tell you?" His gaze was suddenly cool.

Vera put a spoonful of sugar into her tea and stirred it slowly. "She told me
that he's very much in love with you."

   "Ah! And you're thinking now that I'm a little faggot and get paid for the
service!"

Vera gasped. "Nicholas! What's the matter with you? You've never spoke like
this before."

   "No?" He looked around to see if anyone was listening.

   "I'm sorry, mum. But... Have you never noticed that I never had a
girlfriend? You've never said anything about it."

   "But yes, darling, of course I've noticed. But I always thought it's your
business and after all, you are so young..."

   "Pah, so young! I'm 20!"

   "So it is true, yes?"

Nicholas nodded.

   "And he pays for you? Do you still work in the shopping centre?"

   "No. I'm ging to start at the academy of Arts again."

   "Yes, the housekeeper told me."

   "She doesn't miss a thing, does she?' Nicholas didn't expect an answer.

   "What will your father say to this?" Vera asked after a while. Then she
looked intently into her son's eyes. "That you are homosexual is one thing,
Nicholas. But it's dangerous. Is this Marcus... is he healthy? You know what
I mean."

   "Yes, he's healthy, I can take care of myself, don't worry about that, mum."

Vera shook her head a little. "It's .... I have to get used to it." She looked
up. "You are our only son and I have to come to terms with the fact that there
will be no grandchildren? Nor a daughter-in-law? Never?"

   "Never." He took her hand and stroked it gently. "But that's not the
end of the world, mum. Is it?" He grinned. "Instead you'll have a son-in-law!"

Vera had to laugh. "A son-in-law! Well, you may be able to twist me around
your little finger but your father.... I mean Marcus is a very likeable man,
polite and charming, but I doubt that this will impress your father."

   "And he's rich!"

   "Yeah, he's rich, too. Another reason for father's suspicion. You know what
he thinks about rich people."

   "Ah, so Marcus should give away all his money to the poor and live under
the bridges just because my father hates rich people! He knows nothing about
him." With an optimism he didn't quite feel, he added, "Anyway, perhaps he
will take it better than you think. Will you tell him?"

   "I think you should do this by yourself, darling."

   "Hm." Nicholas sighed heavily. "But not yet." He looked at his mother.

   "Do you want to come with me to Marcus house?" He looked at his watch.
"Anna will have gone by now and perhaps Marcus is back already. Will you?"

Vera shook his head. "First I must think about it ... another time, perhaps?"

   "Ok. Another time."


                               ~~~

Sebastian was so confused by the arrays of displayed clothes, bags, perfumes,
soaps and scarves that he had to go three times round before he found
the entrance to the long tunnel leading from the Galeries Lafayette into the
Quarter 205. He walked along the black-white marble tiles and found the
shop windows with the lable of Donna Karan. Then he saw the steps leading up
to the second gallery and went slowly upstairs. As he looked through the
window he saw Kay standing at the counter, sorting pocket handkerchiefs and
looked a little bored.

   "Nothing happening here, eh?" he said as he entered the room. Kay looked
up and beamed. "Hey Sebastian, I didn't expect you so soon."

   "Soon?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "It's surely just before closing
time."

   "Yeah, I meant to say I didn't expect you today."

Sebastian grinned. "I couldn't wait to see you again! That's all."

He stared into the young lad's face. "How was your night?" he asked.

   "Lonely."

   "Ah! Lonely. Well, I had company."

   "Did you?" Kay felt a little stab of jelousy.

   "Yes, Nick," said Sebastian keeping a straight face.

   "Nick?" Kay said astonished.

Sebastian looked at his watch. "You should close now. It's 7:30. No one else
will come. Where do you want to go?"

   "I thought, Nick was Marcus' own. Or do you both fuck him alternately?"

   "Stupid. I had to play baby-sitter. A fire broke out in the exhibition hall
in the middle of the night. Didn't you hear about it?"

   "No! God, what's with Nick's paintings?"

   "All safe, don't worry. But some of the others are destroyed and the busts
 and bronze sculptures."

   "Shit. That's a shame. Was it an accident?"

   "The police experts said yes. What else could it be? Maybe a defective wire
or something."

He watched Kay as he put on his short leather jacket, grabbed a motorcycle
helmet and unlocked the door from the outside.

   "I suppose you've got your car?" Kay asked. "My motorcycle is in the
parking garage."

   "You're a motorcycle freak? Well, I used to have one too in my wild years."

Kay laughed as they went downstairs, "That's long time ago, eh? At least 20
years!" he teased. "Hey why don't you leave your car in the car park and come
with me? There's a free place behind my back."

   "In these clothes? I'd freeze my ass off!"

   "Oh come on, you wimp! It's got to be fun! It isn't that far away."

   "Where to? To your home?"

Kay grinned. "Where else do you think?"

Sebastian thought a moment and decided he liked the idea.


Kay was a breakneck driver and more than once Sebastian had to close his eyes
as they swerved dangerously near to other cars, but Kay weaved skilfully
through the traffic so it wasn't long indeed until they reached the freshly
built block of flats in the Museumsinsel Quarter. Sebastian got off stretching
and rubbing his cold face. "One minute more and I'd have turned into a block
of ice!"

Kay laughed and pointed to the whitewashed building. "My flat is up there,
last floor. There's a breathtaking view."

Sebastian looked up and nodded. "I can imagine."


   "Wow!" exclaimed Sebastian as he walked over to the window, "You're right.
It is indeed breathtaking!" He looked over the river, squeezed between the
banks, where a stone bridge decorated with two obelisks crossed to the
classic building of the National Gallery and a pergola led the way into the
huge concourse. The streetlamps bathed the scene in a soft, yellow light.

Then he turned to look around. The living room was filled with modern glass
and steel furniture but in spite of this still seemed comfortably cosy.

Kay came in with two wine glasses and a plate full of cold meat sandwiches.

   "You must earn a lot to be able to afford such a flat."

Kay grinned. "I've rich parents. Hungry?"

Sebastian's eyes sparkled. "Hungry for you." He took the glasses from Kay's
hand,  drained the contents of one and put it back on the low glass table.
Then he stepped to Kay, and began to unbutton his jeans. He whispered, "You
are a bit overdressed, sweetie."



Kay felt completely taken over, but he liked it. It was a long time ago since
a man had made him so crazy that he forgot all those arts of seduction he was
very proud of and just obeyed the desires of a stranger.

He found himself in the bedroom, Sebastian kissing and licking every inch of
his body and he enjoyed it. Sebastian was wild and tender at the same time
and when Kay thought it was over, Sebastian began a new game, which was almost
more than Kay could bear, until he laid sweating and panting but happy
in Sebastian's arms, his eyes wide open.

   "Still hungry?" he heard his sultry voice.

   "Completely satisfied, baby." Kay said huskily. "For now."

Sebastian chuckled but found he had to try to dismiss the image of Nicholas'
face which kept appearing in front of his inner eye. But then he got up and
asked, "Where's the bathroom, sweetie? Want to share it with me?"


Later they dived into the food and searched in Kay's fridge for other things
to eat. Sebastian wore Kay's robe and went into the bedroom again to pull on
his clothes.

In the corner of the room stood a computer and the table was filled with
boxes of letters, cards and notes. Interested Sebastian stepped closer and
inspected the mess. There were several disks and small books and a handwritten
sheet of paper, apparently a letter. Curious he took it and read the signature.
Simon.

Sebastian looked more closely.

"... need more money. My credit card is stolen and I'm completely broke, I
want you to help me, cannot stand it any longer. Found a pad where I can
live but when I don't pay they will throw me out. The address is Kopernikus-
str. 34a, second yard, left. Ring Hoffmann.
Love, Simon"

   "What are you doing? I thought you'd stay the night with me?" he heard
Kay behind him. Quickly he dropped the letter and turned. Almost without
thinking he said, "What's this game you're playing? If this is a letter from
the Simon I know, then tell me what's going on."

Kay stood dumbfounded for a moment, then he shouted "What are you doing with
my stuff?"

   "Why do you leave it lying around?" Sebastian answered. "Calm down," he
said then more quietly. "Please explain it to me. Do you know Simon? I know
you have been told the story. You know that Nick is looking for him. Is it
the same Simon?"

Kay sighed barely audible and stepped closer. "Yes." His head dropped. "He's
my brother."

It was one of the rare moments that Sebastian was lost for words.

   "What?"

   "Marcus never mentioned that Simon had a brother?" Kay asked.

Sebastian rummaged in his mind. He sat down at the chair in front of the
computer and again picket up the letter. "Yes, I believe he did mentioned it,
but it's so long ago. He never met him. But I certainly can't remember his
name was Kay."

He looked closely at the young man, standing a bit embarrassed beside the
dishevelled bed, looking down at his naked feet.

   "Come here to me," Sebastian said finally. He motioned him to sit on his
lap. Kay did what he wanted and buried his face into Sebastian's hair.

His voice was a bit muffled but Sebastian could make out the words. "I'm sorry
about this. At first I hated Marcus because he was the cause of Simon's
trouble ... I thought. After all, he drove him into the arms of other men, he
was so bored all the time..."

   "Ah, and because he was bored he had to fuck around!"

   "No, it's..." Kay looked into Sebastian's grey-green eyes. They sparkled
with with scarcely suppressed anger. "Ok. Yes, eventually I came to the same
conclusion. It wasn't Marcus fault. Everybody is responsible for his own life.
But you know Simon, too. He was so young and didn't care about himself."

   "Yes," Sebastian said bitter, "and he didn't care about Marcus. He
recklessly slept with Marcus again, not caring if he could have infected him
or not, right?"

   "Right", Kay said quietly.

   "Great. Now, what's your real name? I suppose Kay is a nickname ...
for what?"

   "Kristian."

   "Kristian." Sebastian nodded. "Yeah, this was the name... Anyway, why did
you change your mind? Why didn't you tell Nick that you are Simon's brother?"

   "I don't know anymore. It was only a game I wanted to play."

   "A game. Well, I don't understand this, but anyway tell me what's happened.
Did you go to the - ", he looked at the letter, " - Kopernikusstrasse?"

   "Yes. But it was too late. Simon had gone and nobody knew where. I've
searched in all clubs he used to go to but nobody had seen him. It is as if
he's vanished like a dream. And then this Nick came and brought me his
picture and I saw a hope, but so far I've had no reaction. It's frustrating."

Sebastian stroked his hair soothingly.

Kay went on, "He said he had no money, so what he's doing now? And he's
infected, and if I know my brother that's another reason for him to lead a
wild life. He'd feel he has nothing more to lose."

Sebastian didn't know what to say. It was unbelievable. But certainly he knew
now where those gestures of Kay's that he'd found so familiar had come from.

   "Now," he grinned a half grin, "what shall I call you? Kay or Kristian?"

Kay looked up and smiled. "Kay of course. I'm used to it now."

   "And your parents pay for all this, I see now", Sebastian said, gesturing
rounf at the flat. "And what are your plans now? I don't think it's a good
idea to hide your identity from Marcus and Nick, do you?"

Kay shook his head.

   "Ok. I guess it's easier for two of us to search for your brother. I'm
sure we will find him somewhere."

   "You aren't cross with me?"

If Sebastian ever had such a feeling it was gone by now. He had found
a completely unexpected side to the young man, a vulnerable and soft side.

Suddenly he thought of Nicholas and realised how much he would have given if
the lad sitting in his lap had been Nicki. But as Kay had so rightly said,
Nick was Marcus' own and he - Sebastian - would never willingly take away
someone Marcus truly cared for.

He sighed.

   "Shall I stay with you?"

   "Yes, please."

   "Good. We have to make plans."

   "Plans?" Kay was already grinning. "You don't know MY plans for you!"

   "Huh?"

Without a word Kay stood up and pulled Sebastian out of his chair and onto
the bed. "These plans..." Kay whispered. He pulled Sebastian's pullover up
his belly and kissed the naked skin. "You are certainly overdressed, sweetie!"


                               ~~~


   "Why didn't you tell me that you are leaving so soon for New York?"
Nicholas asked as they sat in front of the TV and watched the local news.
The newscaster was reporting at that moment the fire in Marcus exhibition
hall.  There was a statement ftom Senator Fischer and from Marcus himself.

   "You look good on TV!" Nicholas said.

Marcus snorted and pressed Nicholas' body closer to his. "But I did tell you
that I have to fly to New York!"

   "Yes, but you didn't tell me WHEN!"

   "Come on, baby, you've got a weak memory! Don't you remember my appointments
schedule? I'm a busy man. Where do you think all this comes from?" He made a
movement that included the interior of the room, the scarlet-upholstered chairs
with their low legs and high backs clustered around a heavy, square table, the
cupboards with precious carvings, the chests and sideboards, the tapestries on
the opposite wall beside the fireplace decorated with naked male Caryatids.

Nicholas inspected the figure of the jackal-headed Egyptian god Anubis sitting
upon it and next to him the flat bronze bowl which came from Pompeii. It was
a strange mixture but somehow everything seemed to fit so well together. His
look was struck by a 'voliere' - an artistic cage made of brass which stood
in front of the large window. Stretched around the bars was a tracery made of
copper-wires. It stood upon a graceful flower-painted sideboard. Nick loved it
and he could easily imagine little birds twittering inside it. And he knew
that in Marcus' cellar was a vast collection of Wedgewood-cameos and watches,
bracelets, combs and rings.

   "I thought it all came from your parents" he said finally.

   "Some of it certainly but I have to do my share as well. I can't sit here
the whole day and count the flies on the wall! By the way, what's the problem?
You'll be coming with me of course!"

   "No, I don't come with you!"

Marcus shifted his position on the couch and looked at the young man.

   "Why not?"

   "Because I hate flying. I get sick if I fly. And anyway new term at the
Academy starts next week. I can't miss it escpecially not at the start. Surely
you can understand this?"

   "Oh." Marcus thought a moment. "So you will be stay here alone? Well, it
isn't that long, only a week at the most."

   "A whole week?" Nicholas exclaimed dramatically. "But how shall I survive
it?"

Then he grinned. "Only a joke. I'll certainly not die." He paused a moment.

   "But how often do you have to fly around the world?"

   "Often."

   "Hm. And every time you'll leave me alone here? So now it's me who will
have to count the flies on the wall?"

   "Come on, don't be so stupid. You lived alone before you met me."

   "But it's different now. I want to live with you and not with your...
picture hanging next to my bed!"

   "Ah, you are awful! You're acting like a housewife complaining that her
husband's always away but still leading a wonderful life with the money he
earns!"

Nicholas said nothing. "So you think I'm a sponger only wanting you for your
money?"

Marcus sensed that Nicholas was seriously hurt.

   "I'm sorry. I didn't meant to say this. But you must accept that I led
my life before you entered it and I can't change it all of a sudden. I'm
sorry that you get air sick Surely there is something you can take to prevent
it?"

   "Yes, tablets or something. That's not the problem. But do you always have
to fly? Can't you go to ... Frankfurt or Hamburg were we can go by car?"

Marcus shook his head. "There's nothing for me at those places, honey." He
pulled him back to his chest. "I'll give you gladly everything I have. And
I'm happy if you'll share it with me. What else is the point of having all
this money? It must be spent."

Nicholas feeling himself reconsiled to an extend, leaned over and began to
kiss Marcus' neck below the earlobe which caused Marcus to giggle. They jumped
as the phone rang. "Heavens! I should have turned the damn thing off when we
are together." Marcus muttered but stood up and went to answer it.

At first he heard nothing but then there was a hollow, male voice which
sounded as if it came from overseas saying "I am really sorry that the whole
room didn't go up in flames. Really sorry. It would had been more fun." The
words were spoken almost casually, so Marcus needed time before the meaning
sank in.

   "Hello?" Marcus shouted, "who's that?"

   "You'll know soon enough." Again the calm, controlled, somewhat flat voice.
"Your precious little boy is safe?" Marcus sensed that the toneless voice
laughed amused. "Again, what a pity. Watch out the next time."

   "Hello?" The line was dead. Confused Marcus stood and stared at the
receiver, then slowly put it back.

   "Who was it? Wrong number?"

Marcus shook his head. "I'm not sure", he said and went slowly back to the
couch.

   "Couldn't you hear?" Nicholas insisted.

   "Yes, someone making stupid jokes, I guess."

   "Stupid jokes?" Nicholas asked.

   "About the fire. Only some silly person who gets his kicks from making
stupid calls. Don't worry about it."

He sat beside Nicholas and stared at the telephone. "Your precious little
boy is safe?" the flat voice was still ringing in his ears. Suddenly Marcus
began to sweat. What if there was a connection between the mugging in
the toilet at the "Moonbreaker" and the fire in the exhibition hall? But what
possible reason could there be for it?

   "You ok?"

Marcus turned his head and nodded slowly.

   "That's good, then we can continue where we were interrupted." And he
grabbed Marcus rather limp body and pressed his lips on Marcus'.

   "You still didn't tell exactly when you have to go", he murmured.

   "Huh? Um, in three days."

   "Three days! Well, then we shouldn't miss an hour..."




On those cold nights
--------------------

Three days later Nicholas came downstairs and sat at the kitchen table where
Anna had made the breakfast. He sat down and looked at the slices of bread and
marmalade. There was nothing more. Nicholas sighed and went to the fridge,
opened it and pulled out butter, sausage and orange juice. Anna was a great
one for her gargantuan lunches but for breakfast she was stingy like the old
man in Dicken's Christmas tale whose name Nicholas had forgotten.

He heard Marcus coming down the stairs with his suitcase which he placed
in the hall, and entered the kitchen. Silently he sat at the table and looked
at his plate.

   "Hungry?" Nicholas asked.

   "Hm, not very. I see, Anna was economical again."

   "Yes, but I can make you something better."

Marcus looked at the young man and smiled weakly. "You don't have to. It's
enough." Listless he took a slice of bread and smeared butter upon in. "When
do you have to go to the Academy?"

Nicholas looked at the kitchen watch. "In about an hour."

Marcus took a bite from his slice of bread and looked intently. "Promise me to
look after yourself?"

Nicholas looked up. "You mean Frank? Hm, what could happen? He certainly won't
rape me on the floor of the class room! And if he tries, I'll scream bloody
murder!"

Marcus grinned. "Ok, watch out nevertheless. Always, promise?"

   "Yes, if you insist."

Marcus was restless and couldn't sit in his chair. He rose and went into
the hall to put on his coat. Nicholas followed. Marcus pulled him into a tight
embrace, kissed his mouth and whispered, "I'd much rather stay here,
especially now ... but ... don't let yourself seduced by other handsome men."
He grinned, opened the door, turned and said, "I'll call you as soon as I
arrive." Another long glance and he closed the door.

Nicholas felt a bit forlorn standing there in the large hall. Slowly he
entered the kitchen again and began to put the plates into the dish washer.

The phone rang in the hall and Nicholas was startled for a moment. He went
into the hall.

   "Hi, angel, Marcus still there?" he heard Sebastian's voice.

   "No, you've just missed him. Where have you been the last three days?"

   "In bed, most of the time..."

   "Are you ill?"

   "No," Sebastian chuckled, "actually very much alive, Nicki. So Marcus is
gone already. What a pity, I thought he'd still be there for a couple of hours.
Shall I come to you to play the baby-sitter again?"

   "Baby-sitter?" Nicholas frowned but knew instantly Sebastian was joking.

   "Yes, please, daddy, I'm feeling very lonely in the big house!"

   "Now, seriously, do you want to stay at Marcus?"

   "Yes. But now I have to hurry. I've got to register at the academy this
morning."

   "Do you want me to come with you?"

   "No! What's the matter with you? Are YOU lonely?"

   "I had company for three days, thank you."

   "Kay?" Nicholas said excited.

   "Kay. He phoned in sick for work!"

   "Ah! Sick, eh? And which of you now needs a little soothing ointment?"

   "I was the top, honey."

   "Oh, poor Kay and his more poor ass! But shouldn't you actually in Rome?"

   "Rome? What's that? Ah, I remember vaguely. Well, actually I wanted to
speak with you both, but now it will have to wait until Marcus' return. But
whenever you feel lonely call me, ok?"

   "Will do. By the way can you give me Kay's number?"

After Nicholas noted the number on the pad he hung up, drank his coffee,
had a bite from the slice of bread and left the house.

He used the surburban rail and the tram to reach the old, ivy-covered brick
building of the academy of Arts. He stood a moment in silence in front of it
and watched the young people going in and out. Marcus had told him not to go
to the usual rooms where the registering took place, but into the office
where everything would be arranged. Certainly Marcus had used his influence
to get him a place but Nicholas didn't mind.

He passed the long queue standing in front of the wooden door with the notice
'register here' and searched for the secretary. He smelled again the familiar
and long-missed scent of paints and spirit, glue and floor-wax, passed lads
and girls with sketch pads under their arms, in paint-blotched smocks and
enjoyed the feeling of being there again. Finally he found the right door,
knocked and entered.

Ten minutes later he had filled in his register had learnt that he could
start with the new semester beginning next week and felt happy.

   "Nick?"

Nicholas lifted his head and tried to focus it at the man who was just came
around the corner. He wore a white smock and had some sheets in his hand. He
know the piercing light blue eyes very well and it gave him a feeling almost
as if he had been punched in the stomach.

   "Have you lost your way or can I welcome you again into my working group?"

It was Frank staring at him curiously.

Nicholas cleared his throat. "If the price to be here is to work in your
group then I will pay it."

   "Indeed you will? The last time I saw you you were running out of my
flat! And leaving a very strange present for me at the blankets..."

   "You remember this? Must have left a very big impression."

   "Of course it did. I saved it as one of my trophies." Franks voice was
derisive.

   "I hope you have built up an exhibition box for it!" Nicholas spat out.
"How many other boys have you given the same treatment? And did they enjoy
it as much I enjoyed it? You are certainly sick, man. Now, let me go, I
have more important things to do."

   "Have you?" Frank's mocking laughter followed Nicholas to the exit.

   "Certainly I have. Don't you read the newspaper? Or watch TV? When was
the last time YOUR name was in the headlines?" he shouted back.



Once out of the building Nicholas took a deep breath of sharp, cold air. He
looked at the cloud-covered sky and smelled snow. "What an asshole", he
muttered. Actually he wanted to do a little shopping but the school wasn't
far away from his parents' flat, so he took the next tram. By now it was early
afternoon and his mother would had returned from work.

How long had it been since his last visit? It was Christmas eve and all had
been grey for him but then ... so much was happened to him and he felt for
the first time in his life loved and protected and strong enough to face all
shitty things which could ever happen to him.

He rang the bell and his mother opened the door, still dressed in her coat.
He looked her up and down and it crossed his mind that she needed a new coat
and other clothes. His mother was an attractive woman and shouldn't wandering
around like a grey mouse. He had Marcus' credit card with him as always and
felt for the first time the need to use it.

His mother beamed and dragged him into the small corridor.

   "Hi mum. Sorry, I should have brought you something but I've come
straight from the academy where I registered and I thought I'd visit you
on the way home." He peeled out off his leather jacket which his mother eyed
suspiciously.

   "You wear expensive clothes, Nicholas. Does your ... friend pay for all
this things?"

Nicholas looked at the ceiling. "Mum, you know he does, we've already
discussed it."

   "I don't like the idea a foreign strange man paying for my boy."

She hustled him into the kitchen. "Your father's still sleeping. Are you
hungry? I have some stew from yesterday."

   "Yes. It's long time since I had one of your stews."

   "What does this Anna cook? Only caviar and lobster?"

Nicholas laughed. "No. Meat rolls in cream sauce and knuckles of pork and
sauerbraten but for breakfast we only get bread and marmalade."

   "So? How long have you liked knuckles of pork?"

   "I don't like it, mum, that's the problem. Have you told father?"

   "Have I told him what? Ah, you mean... about our little talk the other day?"

   "Hm."

   "No, I haven't, you know that you must talk about it on your own."

   "But why do I have to tell him?"

Instead of an answer Vera pulled out an old newspaper and shoved it under
Nicholas' nose. She tapped her finger on an article. "Read it."

   ".... known to be homosexual - his newest boyfriend."

Abruptly he lifted his head, looked amazed into his mother's face and then
recognised the name of the newspaper. It was a typical gutter press newspaper,
which concentrated on scandals, one Marcus didn't read.

   "Shit. Did father read it?"

   "Of course. And he had a row because in his opinion I seemed to be hiding
things from him."

She leaned forward. "And he's right. But I didn't give anything away, and now
it's your turn to set the record straight."

Nicholas stared sadly at his picture. The quiet creak of the bedroom door
told that his father was coming. Vera put a bowl of steaming soup in front
of her son, but Nicholas had lost his appetite.

   "Ah, look who's there!" his father exclaimed in a not unfriendly tone
although there was something strange in his voice and Nicholas was alarmed
immediately.

   "Hi, dad." Quickly he closed the newspaper and tried to hide it amongst
the others lying on the table.

   "I want a few words with you, Nicholas', his father said and sat down at
the table. He glanced at the newspapers. "You know I've read this. And I'm
happy for you, the exhibition seemed to be a big success. Your mother told me
there was a fire?"

Nicholas swallowed a spoonfull of soup. "Yes. A defective element or
something."

Rudolf Zellner nodded and scratched his head. "Then certainly you've read the
section about this ..."

   "Marcus Weidenbruch?" Nicholas helped.

   "Yes. I know what lies these slobs of journalist sometimes write but is it
true?" His eyes were searching.

   "Is what true?" Nicholas stirred the soup and fished some carrots out of it.

   "That the man is a fairy."

   "Fairy, aha." Now he sorted out the peas and made a pattern around the
plate on which the bowl was standing. It was an old habit he had had since his
childhood and his mother had to suppress a smile.

   "And? What's wrong with Marcus?"

   "Nicholas," his father looked seriously. "What this ...  Weidenbusch IS
doesn't mean anything to me. But if he ever tries anything nasty with
you, then..."

   "What ... then?"

   "Good Lord! You know what I mean!"

   "Well, I think you have a completely wrong idea of a "fairy", dad."

   "Have I?"

   "Yes." Nicholas nodded and spooned the carrots back into the soup.

   "I want you to listen to me." His father's voice was all of a sudden sharp
and Nicholas flinched. The spoon clinked on the bowl.

   "Is it true what the newspaper said?" He gazed deep into Nicholas' face and
searched for something to tell him that it wasn't true. Apparently he couldn't
find what he was looking for.

   "Say something! Is it true? Is my son a fucking faggot?"

   "Rudolf!" Vera shouted. "Please don't talk like that."

Rudolf threw a threatening glance at his wife. Nicholas stopped eating.

   "And if? What then?"

   "What then?" His father's face flushed. "Are you telling me that it's true?
Oh God!" He leaned back in his chair. "So it is true, yes?" he whispered and
took a deep breath.

Nicholas rushed on recklessly. "I've lived in his house since Christmas and
I'm going back to the Academy. I just came from registering for the next term.
It begins next week. And you will not stop me doing this whatever you think
of Art and artists, nor stop me carrying on living in his house." His voice
trembled a bit. "Yes it is true. I AM A FUCKING FAGGOT!" he shouted.

He threw the spoon down upon the table, got up, shoved back the chair with
his knees and went out of the door. In the hall he hastily pulled on his
jacket, went out and slammed the door behind him.


He ran downstairs and out of the house. The sharp wind hit him on his hot
face. It was snowing, thick flakes already covering the streets. Nicholas
made the snow and the wind responsible for the fact that he wasn't able to
see properly as he tried to cross the crowded street with large steps, but it
was rather the tears that filled his eyes.

He heard a sharp squealing of brakes and barely avoided a car, slamming his
fist upon the bonnet and running blindly on until he reached the traffic
island in the middle of the street and the tram stop. With his palm he wiped
his wet face.

A tram pulled up, Nicholas stepped in and found an empty seat. After some
minutes he pulled himself together and found he could think clearly again.
The tram passed Matthias' home and Nicholas decided to make a quick visit.
He had to speak to somebody.



Tina brought a cup of hot tea and placed it in front of Nicholas who sat
almost submerged in a deep, soft armchair pulling his knees to his chest.

"So your father called you a fucking faggot you say?" she said after a while.
Nicholas sniffed and searched for a handkerchief. Matthias gave him a fresh
one.

   "I'm sorry Nick. But we feared what his reactions would be, didn't we?"

   "Yes." Nicholas head dropped. "What a shit."

   "And your mother?" Tina asked.

Nicholas shrugged his shoulder. "Maybe she'll be taking the consequences of
what I've done."

   "Rubbish. You haven't 'done' anything!" Matthias threw in.

   "Do you want to stay here tonight?" Tina asked. "This couch makes a good
bed."

   "Yes! We could ope a bottle of wine and you pour your heart out. And
tomorrow things will seem so much better." Matthias' eyes sparkled.

Nicholas sniffed again and looked thankfully at his friend.

   "May I?"

Matthias smiled.


                              ~~~