Date: Fri, 24 Oct 2003 16:50:00 -0700 (PDT)
From: Equinus Scorpius <equinusscorpius@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chapter 13 the Silent Violin

Legal Notice:
The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts.
The story is a work of fiction and has no basis in reality.  Although
the names of places used DO exist, they are in no way reflected
factually in this story.

Don't read this story if:
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Note:  This story will be slow moving, and plot oriented.  It is not a
porno, though sex will happen.  It's a fact of life.  Words in between
<> are sign language, as text formatting does not support italics.

E-mail responses to the story, questions, suggestions, criticism, and
comments to: EquinusScorpius@yahoo.com Thanks to all my readers for the
feedback so far!  Sorry for the long delay!

THE SILENT VIOLIN

CHAPTER 13

	Throughout health class, Arkady's tear-stained face stared
resolutely forward.  Mr. Jacobs had given Arkady an inquiring glance, but
the look on Arkady's face warned him off of any further interaction.
Bastian couldn't help but replay the kisses in his mind.  Aiden melted to
Arkady and back again.  The erotic, confusing moment repeated over and
over, causing a bulge to form in his pants.  Blue eyes turned to green eyes
in his mind, flickering like a strobe burning into his mind.  The bell
ending class rang, jolting Bastian from his recollections and he mentally
cursed himself for missing the assignment.  Thankfully, Mr. Jacobs had
written it on the board and he quickly jotted it down.  Whe he looked up
again, Arkady was gone.  Perhaps it's for the best.  I'm not ready to face
that yet but I don't want him hurt.  He made his way to his last class of
the day, orchestra.
	The sounds of chattering and instruments being tuned welcomed him
into the orchestra room.  He scanned the room and found Harmony talking to
Alex in a quiet corner.  Alex looked slightly upset, his face flushed red
and his fists clenched.  Bastian felt a pang of uncertainty.  Would she
tell?
	Ignoring them for the moment, he joined Mariko and Jen over by the
violin cubbies to get ready for class.  He exchanged his messenger bag for
violin case and found an empty horizontal surface on which to set up.  The
girls greeted him warmly, breaking off their conversation to ask him about
his day.  Bastian gave a non-committal shrug and began to rosin and tighten
his bow.  He next checked for intonation and found the E- string to be
slightly sharp.  The E-string was most likely to go out of pitch, since it
provided the source for the highest note.  With a slight turning of the
peg, his violin was in tune.  Bastian grabbed his folder of music, replaced
the violin case on top of his bag, and sat down in the chair.  Second
chair, he reminded himself.  Only then did he realize that he hadn't had a
chance to practice the music.  Gramps would be pissed at me.  I probably
wouldn't be able to sit down for a week if he found out.  And a second
chair not knowing the music, disgraceful!  Studiously he began to look
through the music, his fingers following his eyes as they ran through the
notes.  He spotted a few difficult fingerings and managed to work out an
easy transition between them.  He marked a few flats and sharps where they
were called for but not noted, just to remind himself.  Out of the corner
of his eye, he saw Mariko and Jen taking their seats.  Many other students
flooded into their seats as Mrs. Tolner came into the room.
	She tapped her conductor's baton on the podium to get their
attention just as Bastian memorized the last few bars of music.  He looked
up to see her glowering at the room, a sour expression that he'd come to
recognize.  "I'm sure you all heard this morning's announcement," she
began, "For those of you who haven't," she glared around the room,
"Mrs. Grainger has chosen 'Fiddler on the Roof' as this year's spring
musical.  This of course means that she will need musicians.  I will not
force you to be a part of the pit orchestra but students who do will be
awarded extra credit.  If you are interested there will be a sign-up sheet
on the bulletin board with further information found there."
	Bastian was writing furiously as Mrs. Tolner spoke.  He handed the
note to Mariko just as she asked, "Any questions?"  Bastian raised his hand
and she acknowledged him.  Mariko cleared her throat to read the note.
	"He wants to know if the same holds true for being 'The Fiddler' or
if Mrs.  Grainger is having a non-musician play the part?"  Mariko looked
to Bastian to double- check what she had just said.  Bastian nodded his
thanks to her.  Several students focused their attention on him and he
colored slightly in embarrassment.
	Mrs. Tolner pursed her lips and tapped a fingernail against them.
"I assume she would want a musician to play the part.  And the fiddler is a
non-speaking part.  Are you familiar with the play?" she asked, snapping
out of her ruminations.  Bastian nodded.  "Well I see no problem extending
extra credit to the part of 'The Fiddler' as well."  She cleared her
throat.  "With that taken care of, let's get to work on the concert music.
'The Rites of Spring.'"  She raised the baton in her hand and most of the
students, caught by surprise, struggled to read their instruments and find
the correct music.  Mrs. Tolner waited a moment for them to ready
themselves before counting the beat.  The orchestra burst into sound after
four beats.

	Alex was distracted as he played.  Bastian is interested in being
'The Fiddler' in the play.  Even if Harmony says that Bastian wouldn't like
him that way, I can still join up and maybe get to know him better.  If
only I could sing.  I guess I'll have to settle for being in the pit.  The
stream of consciousness ran through his mind, interrupted by images of
Bastian creeping unbidden into his mind.  That full, dark hair always
falling into those silver-gray eyes with those long lashes.  Skin so pale
except for his cheeks that always appeared flushed.  Alex wondered what he
looked like naked, but quickly banished the thought from his mind.  Either
way, he would be sure to sign up for a part in the musical.

	Mrs. Tolner gave them a break when the bell signaling the end of
eighth period rang.  Bastian stood up, clutching the violin gently by the
neck.  He didn't trust the other students in the room to be careful around
it if he put it down.  He made his way over to examine the sign-up sheet on
the bulletin board.  There was a small crowd of students looking at the
lined white paper.  Quite a few people had already signed up.  Mrs.
Tolner's incentive sure didn't hurt with getting more people to
participate.  By the look of the many people standing there waiting to sign
up and the few names on the list he recognized, Bastian didn't think many
of them needed the extra credit.
	Bastian waited in line to add his own name to the list, adding
'Fiddler on the Roof' after it.  Alex was right behind him, smiling as he
penned his signature beneath Bastian's.  "Pretty cool, huh Bastian?" Alex
asked.  He cursed himself silently at the lameness of the comment.  Bastian
just smiled and nodded.  He was still unsure of just what Harmony had told
Alex about he and Aiden.  I sure don't need any problems from a bunch of
homophobic students.  I don't think Harmony is like that, but maybe that's
why Alex was so upset before.  He glanced at Alex through lowered lashes,
trying to decide if Alex was the kind of person who wouldn't like gay
people.  I don't think Alex is like that, but I can't be sure.  Better just
to be careful.  Bastian waved goodbye to Alex and made his way back to his
seat.
	Lame, lame, lame!  How could I be so stupid?  'Pretty cool, huh
Bastian?'  God!  Alex ranted mentally at himself.  Now he hates me, that
dismissive little wave, the pitying smile.  Why do I do this to myself.
Harmony said she didn't say anything to Bastian about me liking him, but
maybe he can tell.  Fuming at himself, he stormed back to his seat and
jerkily took up his trumpet.  He pulled out the next selection of music and
began to finger through it.
	Mrs. Tolner called them back to their seats.  "I'm very happy so
many of you decided to sign up for the play.  Auditions for all parts are
tomorrow during ninth period and will probably run late, so you may want to
arrange for a different way home.  Orchestra members should show up as
well, to receive the schedule of practices and such.  On that note, let's
get practicing."  The baton came up and the orchestra began to play.

	Arkady stood at the corner of the tumbling mat, preparing for the
last run of his floor routine.  I really shouldn't be doing this today, I
can't concentrate.  Thoughts of Bastian's gray eyes wide with surprise and
the touch of his soft lips chased all thoughts of the routine from his
mind.  He shook his head to clear it of the erroneous thoughts.  Mentally
he ran through the last pass: a cartwheel into an ariel (no-handed
cartwheel) into four back handsprings into a round off into a back tuck and
landing in a split.  It was a difficult pass, but Arkady knew he could do
it.  He stood in his beginning stance and did some breathing exercises to
focus his body and mind.
	Now centered, he set off at a spring and flew nimbly into the pass,
tumbling and twisting until he reached the far corner where he brought his
momentum to a halt.  His muscular legs slowed the jolt of the landing but
his groin was painfully close to the mat and he grimaced slightly with the
strain.  He held the landing pose for a moment and then swung his leg
around, kipped up to his feet, and walked the few paces to the bench to
collapse onto the hard wood.
	Bending down to unwrap the support bandages from his ankles, he
caught movement out of the corner of his eye near the doors.  He looked up
in time to see the door swing close.  Too tired for pursuit, Arkady
finished removing the bandages and walked stiffly towards the locker room.
	His muscles ached abominably, a dull slow ache up his legs, his
chest and shoulders, his back.  Even his joins ached.  He contemplated a
brief sojourn to the Jacuzzi to soak away his aches and decided that that
was just what he needed.  He made his way through the locker room, grabbing
a couple of towels along the way.
	The athletes at Kingston High School were well provided for.  The
school depended heavily on the publicity and income from the varsity
football and basketball teams to get more sponsors and donations.  Thus the
athletes were well rewarded with extraordinary facilities.  Besides a full
fitness center that was used by both the weight training class and the
majority of the sports teams, there was a sauna and a Jacuzzi.  The coaches
carefully monitored the use of the sauna and it was locked when the coaches
were away.  For safety's sake, only the coaches possessed the key, and only
the key could lock it.  There were two whirlpool tubs, one hot and one cold
near the sauna.  Having never seen the women's locker room, Arkady could
only assume they were similarly outfitted.
	Arkady stepped into the humid whirlpool room and strode over to the
bubbling pool of water.  Gratefully he stripped off the lycra leotard and
silky nylon shorts to stand there in only his well-filled jockstrap.  A
trail of short blond hairs led from his navel below the waistband of the
jockstrap in an ever-widening path.  He hesitated a moment, hands on hips,
and slowly stroked the bulging pouch subconsciously with his long, thick
fingers.  There was no express rule about nudity in the whirlpool but in
general it wasn't accepted, mostly by other students.  This late in the day
though, Arkady doubted anyone would be around.  Growing up in a Romanian
family, especially one with close ties to the freewheeling circus life,
Arkady didn't have the same insecurities and body-image problems that
plagued many of his peers.  Arkady was proud of his body and his athletic
ability.  He knew what he looked like, saw the jealous or longing glances
girls and guys cast his way.  He brought one hand up to run his fingers
through his tousled blond hair then slid it down his body to join the other
hand in pulling off the jockstrap.  Arkady relished in the freedom for a
moment before sinking into the Jacuzzi's warm, effervescent embrace.
	The tiny tingling bubbles slid across his skin, sticking, popping,
and slipping all over his body.  The combination of heat and swirling water
soothed his aching muscles and perversely stimulated one to aching.  He
soon found himself hard and strong beneath the water, the only stiff part
of him now.  The tension just seemed to evaporate with the steam.  He laid
his arms out on either side of the tub and rested his head back on the
pillow of towels to let the swirling water do its work.  He closed his eyes
and felt the warmth suffuse him.
	A slight noise caused Arkady's eyes to snap open.  The room was
full of steam and he couldn't see anything.  "Hello?" he called out.  His
voice sounded ghostly through the cloud of steam.  No answer.  He shivered
beneath the water.  The tiny blond hairs at the back of his neck stood on
end.  Somewhere in the steam someone began to play a violin, the sweet
strains of some melody reaching his ears.  "Bastian?" Arkady asked
hesitantly.  The violin cut off with the harsh shriek of a bow across the
strings.  Arkady strained his ears for any hint of movement and squinted
into the billowing steam.  He heard the hollow echo of footsteps, like
dress shoes walking down a long hallway.  Slowly a form appeared through
the fog.  Pale skin glowed through the mist as if illuminated by moonlight,
dark hair was tamed by the weight of the steam, his eyes burned like molten
silver.  He came slowly towards the whirlpool, the neck of the violin in
one hand, the base of the instrument nestled between chin and collarbone.
	Arkady held his breath, not daring to breathe lest he scare Bastian
away.  Slowly Bastian approached, silent but for the sound of shoes on the
floor.  He was bare-chested above a pair of blue jeans and bare feet peaked
out from beneath the long cuffs.  Bare feet?  But the dress shoes? Arkady
wondered briefly but his thoughts were lost to Bastian's next actions.
	Bastian circled around behind him and Arkady lost sight of him.  He
heard the clatter of the violin being set down.  "Bastian?" he asked again.
He felt Bastian kneel down by his head and saw his face looming over his
own.  Bastian placed one finger across Arkady's mouth and he could taste
the chlorine on his lips.  The finger dropped from his lips, trailed across
his chin and the warm smooth hand slipped down across the broad expanse of
Arkady's muscular chest.  The other hand was on his shoulder, holding
Bastian up from falling into the water.  Arkady gazed up into Bastian's
upside down face.  He leaned in closer and his hand slid beneath the frothy
waters.  The scar on Bastian's throat loomed closer as their lips touched.
As they kissed, Bastian's small warm hand gripped him firmly below the
waters, causing Arkady to gasp into the kiss.  They kissed sensually for
several moments, Bastian nibbling and licking on Arkady's lips and tongue
while his hand caused exquisite pleasure beneath the water.
	Bastian's milking and the kiss was too much and Arkady spasmed.
His eyes shot open.  He was alone in the Jacuzzi, his seed already being
filtered out.  His heartbeat slowed and he breathed heavily of the humid
air.  The water was rapidly cooling and the room was dark.  He shivered and
pulled himself out of the tub.
	Grabbing the towels and his discarded gymnast outfit he padded
towards the shower.  What time is it? he wondered.  He shrugged
nonchalantly, placed his clothes and towels on a bench outside the shower
and proceeded to wash the chlorine and the remnants of his emission from
his body.  He showered briefly but thoroughly and not in a hurry.  It was
just the way he showered.  He dried off his body with one towel and wrapped
it about his slender waist and walked out drying off his hair with the
other towel.  As he passed beneath the clock outside the shower he looked
up from beneath the towel and saw with some surprise that it was almost
5:30 PM.  The busses left an hour ago, no hurry now.  Arkady wasn't really
worried, he only lived a couple of miles from the school and regularly
jogged to and from school.  Hopefully the sidewalks were well shoveled and
salted, he thought.
	He got dressed, donned his cross-trainers, and folded his
gymnastics clothes to take home for a much-needed wash.  When he grabbed
his book bag from the gym locker, a folded piece of paper fell out with
'Arkady' written in neat flowing letters.  Curious, Arkady bent down and
opened it up.  He settled on the wooden bench between the lockers and began
to read the short note.

	Arkady,
		I would like to invite you to try out for the school
musical
	tomorrow (Friday) afternoon during ninth period in the school
	auditorium.  I have a part in mind that I think you would be
perfect
	for.  Please come and try out.

				Hunter Greene
				Student Director for 'Fiddler'

	"Hunter Greene?  I didn't know he even knew me.  I wonder what part
in this play he wants me to perform?"  Arkady carefully folded the note and
slid it into his pocket.  "Maybe I'll rent the movie and see if I can
gather an idea.  Otherwise I'll just have to see tomorrow."
	He slung the book bag over his shoulder and headed on his way home.
_______________

To Be Continued.