Date: Sun, 10 Oct 2004 13:30:44 -0400
From: carl5de@netscape.net
Subject: OUT OF THE RUBBLE -29

OUT OF THE RUBBLE - 29

Copyright 2004 by Carl Mason

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without
the written permission of the author.  Comments on the story are
appreciated and may be addressed to the author at carl5de@netscape.net.

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between a young adult
male and young male teenagers.  Nevertheless, "Out of the Rubble" is
neither a strictly "suck and fuck" exercise nor is it a story that focuses
on the "love of adults for the young"...often without sex or with the mere
suggestion of sex.  If you are looking for these types of erotic fiction,
there are fine examples of each on Nifty.  Something slightly different is
required here.

However based on real events and places, "Out of the Rubble" is strictly
fictional.  Any resemblance to actual events, or locales, or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  Further, this is homoerotic
fiction designed for the personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature,
adults.  If you are not of legal age to read such material, if those in
power and/or those whom you trust treat it as illegal, or if it would
create unresolvable moral dilemmas in your life, please leave.  Finally,
remember that maturity generally demands that anything other than safe sex
is sheer insanity!

Thank you, Ed C., for your devoted help on this section of the story!


PART 29

(Revisiting the End of Part 28)

Sam instinctively felt that he had to call the MPs and honor the warrant
that had been issued for Hans' arrest.  Andreas, however, suggested that he
should go slow...that there was more about this boy than could be explained
by his simply being a Bucharest street urchin.  When confronted by Sam with
the new intelligence, the boy collapsed, physically and psychologically.
Waiting for a doctor, he lay semi-conscious in Sam's lap, mumbling over and
over, "I AM Siebenbuergen.  Kurt and Franz ARE my brothers."  Although he
did inform the MPs of Hans' whereabouts, the Director was given temporary
custody of the lad, as well as gaining their support in further
investigating a very strange series of events.

(Continuing Our Story: Visitors from America)

With the assistance of Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, Jr., (R-Mass), who cut
through mountains of red tape, the Peters arrived in Tieferwald on December
21st to stay until the 26th.  (As much as he wanted to, Mr. Peters could
not be away from his desk through Sylvesterabend [New Years Eve].)  The
weather was cold, and there had been some snow.  Fortunately, it was not
frigid, as it had been during the last two years.

In front of a cheery blaze in the great stone fireplace, opening a bottle
of fine Scotch that his father had brought from Boston, Sam told his
parents about having been offered major positions with the URA, UNRRA, and
the Marshall Plan.  He received excellent counsel from one of the most
experienced and respected attorneys in the eastern United States.  With
some trepidation, Sam and Andy also shared what they had suggested to Franz
and Genevieve.  Somewhat to their surprise, they received enthusiastic
support.  "I had begun to adjust to the idea that I would never have
grandchildren," the boys' mother admitted tearfully, "but this news fills
my heart with happiness...and, for the first time, Christmas cheer."  "Now,
now, mother," their father remonstrated, "we don't know anything yet.
Let's not set ourselves up for heartbreak."  Andy walked over to her, sat
on the arm of the chair, and simply hugged her as she dabbed at her eyes.
"We can hope, Mom.  We can hope," he whispered.

Despite his desire to remain "professional," Sam could not help but honor
his mother's request to speak with Genevieve and Franz.  He even went so
far as to introduce her to Franz, but then, determined to protect the
youngsters' right to choose for themselves, he washed his hands of the
entire matter.

Neither Sam nor Andreas was surprised that their parents and the boys of
DAS HAUS immediately developed a mutual love affair.  To be sure, Sam,
Ehrhardt, Kurt and, to some extent, Frau Luisa and even Andy all fulfilled
their functions - and fulfilled them with dedication, skill, and love.
Nevertheless, they - even Papa Ehrhard and Gretchen - did not have the
stature of Mr. and Mrs. Peters.  One didn't have to look far to find to
find a boy talking with one of them...or sharing a story or something he
had made in school...or, maybe, just getting a few seconds of "lovin'.
Georg, a model building enthusiast, for instance, discovered to his
amazement that just a few minutes spent with a whittlin' knife and a piece
of soft wood could produce an excellent hull for a sailing ship.  (He found
it even harder to believe that he walked away with "Papa Peters'" knife in
his pocket!)  To Sam, his parents seemed younger than he had experienced
them in years - and as wondrously loving as they had been during Andy and
his trip to the States.  (See Parts 20, 21, and 22.)  The younger boys
were, of course, in Seventh Heaven, but even some of the oldest were
enthralled.  Kurt, for instance, told Andy that his mother had threatened
to take him back to Boston in her purse.  He couldn't stop repeating the
story for weeks... giggling...and, occasionally, coming close to shedding a
tear.  Even Ehrhardt, whom Sam spotted sitting beside Mrs. Peters' chair as
she toyed with a lock of his hair, looked upon her as a magical being.  In
so many ways, "The House" had become "The Home."

(Don't Ask, Don't Tell)

In all conscience, Sam decided that he could no longer delay speaking with
General Clemens.  Requesting (and receiving) a "personal" appointment, he
told his strongest supporter in the military world - the man to whom he
owed so much - of his decision to return to America during the next summer.
He also told him of the offers that had been made by the United Relief
Agencies, UNRRA, and the Marshall Plan.  Only the last-mentioned might
allow him to retain his military standing, but, due to the overseas
commitment that it entailed, it was not high on his list.  The General
puffed on his 5-cent stogie (100 cents [a.k.a. pennies] = 1 U.S. dollar)
for a moment before saying that he guessed Sam had "paid his dues."  He
added that he would be "damned sad" to see him go, for he was the best
damned officer - and one of the best damned human beings - with whom he had
served in the whole damned war!  He then looked at Sam and said, "But
that's not all you wanted to talk with me about, was it Major?"

Sam thanked all that was holy that he had already planned to discuss a
second issue with the General, for that wise old Army bird...damn his
hide...KNEW!  Clearly, had he not prepared, he would now be so much dead
meat!  For some unknown reason, the words of an ancient Anglican liturgy
came back to mind: "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."  Trouble was that
he HADN'T "sinned."  The United States Army thought so.  The Anglican
Church thought so.  It seemed that almost everyone in the good old USA -
hell, the WHOLE WORLD! - thought so, but a very sensitive conscience told
him that he hadn't.  With that fact in mind, he talked with his Commanding
Officer and military mentor.

"Sir, when I first found Andreas in the City Park nearly two and one-half
years ago, I fell in love with him - and he with me.  We have given
ourselves to each other physically...many times.  When we were in Maine
just a few weeks ago, we exchanged rings and pledged ourselves to each
other for life.  He is a German - though his legal status as a Slovakian
expellee is still somewhat in question - and I am an American...an American
proud to have served his country in its Army.  It's time for me to return
home, but, sir, I don't know how I can possibly do that without the man I
love.  Andy feels the same way.  As his military bearing began to crack and
tears built up immediately behind his eyelids, Sam cleared his throat and
asked, "Can you tell me, sir - as a human being - what can I possibly do?"

The General looked impassively at the Major - his face a complete cipher.
His stogie, of which only an inch (2.54 cm) or so still remained, burned
brightly.  (Sam almost grinned at the totally irreverent thought that swept
across his mind: "That butt must be stronger than hell!")

"Well, son, I am getting old.  Both my wife and my Chief of Staff tell me
that I don't always hear so good any more.  For instance, I heard what you
said about returning home.  After that, however, I'm afraid I only heard
something about how a German-Slovakian expellee might be able to enter the
good old USA.  You DID ask that question, MAJOR?"  Sam sprang to attention
and saluted as he snapped, "Yes, SIR!"  "Very well, MAJOR, I shall look
into it.  However, you get something and you get it good: THIS CONVERSATION
NEVER HAPPENED!  DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, SOLDIER?"  "Yes, SIR!" Sam snapped.
"Good!  Now get out of here, I'm busy!"  Sam saluted again...and got the
hell out of that office as fast as his feet could carry him!

General Clemens sat at his desk, grinning slightly.  "Hell, this old dog
can still growl.  Too bad that boy's a damn Yankee. He'd have made a good
Reb!  Now what am I going to do to get Andy into the States?"  An hour
later, he had a plan.  Slowly, he typed direct wires over secure Army lines
to those who might support Andreas's receiving American citizenship through
a Special Act of Congress.  Those selected not only had to have good
reasons to support Andy, but they also had to have few questions.  "A very
touchy game, Clemens," he grunted to himself.  "Yeah...the Head Man in
Stuttgart, General Patterson at the Department of Defense (In September,
the War Department had been incorporated into the new Department of
Defense.), the "Marshall Plan Work-Group Coordinator" at the State
Department, Cantor of the URA in Boston, UNRRA's top man in Germany, and
Colonel Kendrick of the Army Medical Corps.  Tomorrow, he would talk with
the Buergermeister and the Camp Director personally.  As soon as he had a
relatively complete set of replies he would contact the two Massachusetts
Senators, Lodge and Saltonstall. Given the six hours difference between
Tieferwald and the East Coast of the U.S., he had the first replies before
he left for home.  He sat, looking at them in utter amazement.  Hell,
Patterson promised him a letter of support signed by the Secretary of
Defense, Forestall, himself.  State promised a similar letter signed by the
Secretary of State, General of the Army, George C. Marshall!  They also
sent several pages of data on how many of Sam and Andy's suggestions were
finding their way into the Marshall Plan.  "SHEE-IT!"  Clemens barked,
"Maybe, the game ought to be to elect Andy as the next President...or,
maybe, the Pope!"  He left his office a happy man - and one determined to
stay with this one all the way!

(A Christmas to Remember)

Beginning on the morning of the 23rd, DAS HAUS was in an uproar.  The
Peters had quickly recovered from their trip and had more energy than most
of the boys.  Papa Peters actually went out with Kurt and Ulrich to cut
down a fine tree.  ("Fine" to him meant a tree at least 8 feet [2.4m] in
height!)  Indeed, when the Jeep returned, it appeared as if a large part of
the forest was lashed to the top!  Having spent the last month collecting
materials, at least six of the boys were working on house and tree
decorations.  As ornaments - including a few traditional cookies baked by
Frau Luisa - were being hung on the tree by still other boys, Mrs. Peters
brought a small box downstairs from the Peters' bedroom.  (Horst and Jaeger
had volunteered to use bedrolls and "camp out" wherever they could find an
open spot in The House.)  She made a friend for life when she asked
Wolfgang if he would like to hang six ornaments that had been on Sam's
first Christmas tree.  This confused the young teen.  "How did these thin
glass ornaments survive the bombing, Frau Peters?"  Her face ashen, she
explained that America had experienced practically no bombing.  Seeming to
remember recent Christmases in East Prussia, Wolfgang's face suddenly
saddened.  For a few minutes, she simply stood by the tree, clasping the
boy to her bosom and shedding a few tears with him.  As he wiped the tears
from his face, he laughed weakly and exclaimed that at least they had been
"made in Germany".  "Look at the words on the bottom of the ornaments," he
teased, his normal high-spirits returning.  Frau Peters' supplies also
included cloth and other materials she had brought from Boston for a
special project.  Wailing to Sam that she had never been able to sew, Frau
Luisa came to her rescue.  After a consultation translated by Andy, the
promise was given that the task would be completed that very night.

Nearly 40 people having accepted invitations to the traditional Christmas
Eve party scheduled for the nest night, you will guess that the gathering
of foodstuffs was also a major task of the day.  Frau Luisa was a hard
taskmaster - and ruled her kitchen with an iron hand.  Sam had to make
three trips to the PX, for something always seemed to have been forgotten!
As he returned home on the third, he was happy to see Kurt's cousin's wagon
pulled up in front of the house.  Having been promised two geese and a
large supply of homemade beer, he was wondering when Frau Luisa would start
asking where they were!  He had no sooner assigned some muscle to the
unloading and entered the house when one of the boys said that an old
Italian was looking for him.  Locating Andy, they walked to the front door
and greeted Carlo, the itinerant artist.  (See Part 14/middle.)  After Andy
had introduced them, they took Carlo upstairs to their bedroom to see the
prominent position in which his sketch was displayed.  "It is the finest
picture that I have of someone who means the world to me, sir.  I thank you
from the bottom of my heart."  "'Sir' is not needed, Herr Direktor.  I am
simply, 'Carlo'.  As for the sketch, beauty is beauty.  True, it's made
rare by the fact that it is found so seldom.  Please believe that it was my
pleasure.  I understand that you wish me to come to your home tomorrow
night and do some sketches of your guests - as well as those who live
here. " In answer to a nod, he asked, "What are your rules?"  "Sam answered
that he had none other than that Carlo enjoy the party as an honored guest
and make his contribution by drawing whatever he wished.  The sketches
could be given to the subjects.  At the end of the evening, he would settle
up with the artist in accord with an agreement earlier made with Andy.  "I
look forward to joining you, Herr Direktor...and you, Andreas," Carlo said
and departed.

By the time that night fell, The House was in reasonable shape for the
party.  Decorations were everywhere; the tree was magnificent; even Frau
Luisa proclaimed that "Alles ist in Ordnung!"  ["Everything is in order!"].
Naturally, the candles on the Weihnachtsbaum [Christmas tree] hadn't been
lit, The House still had to receive a special cleaning and polishing, and a
great deal of cooking remained to be done, but those task were manageable.
It was a weary, but well satisfied, crew that went to bed that night.

It was almost time the next evening for guests to begin arriving for the
party.  DAS HAUS was beautiful!  Scores of candles flickered on every
table, casting light on both the highly polished woodwork of the living
room and the glitter on decorations.  A small fire blazed in the old stone
fireplace.  The downstairs was clean as it rarely was with Sargent
Ehrhardt's Army climbing and tromping about!  Staff plus cleaned-up and
slicked-down boys made final checks.  A team of youthful disc jockeys stood
ready to provide a steady background of Christmas music.  Carlo was the
first to arrive, greeted warmly by both Sam and Andy and shown where he
could store extra materials.  Soon other knocks were heard on the front
door: an aged Frau Goettingen and her two grandsons, Manfred and Stefan;
Herr Doktor Tomas Mahler (the Camp Director who was himself an expellee
from Pommern [Pomerania] that now lay mostly in northwest Poland), Captain
Paul Donahue, Baron Rolf von Hapsburg, General and Mrs. Clemens, Luther and
Annie Mueller (the owners of the farm who had hosted the Oktoberfest,
Luther being Kurt's cousin), three girls who were special guests of senior
boys (Heidi with Kurt, Friede with Ulrich, and Genevieve with Franz), and
Herr Doktor Max Schmidt (the current Buergermeister) and his wife.
Naturally the company when finally assembled also included Sam and Andreas,
their parents, Ehrhard with Gretchen and little Rose, Frau Luisa, and the
boys of The House.  And let us not forget the beautiful Blondi and her four
"active" five-week-old puppies!  In truth, given over 50 partygoers, the
beautiful old house creaked a bit!

The company milled about the lower floor (other than in the kitchen!),
talking animatedly with each other, the staff, and the boys.  Occasionally
- until Sam insisted that they be exiled upstairs - they also had to dodge
a yapping puppy as it ran ("tumbled" may be a better word) around their
feet, seeking a snack.  As the spirit moved them, they also visited a
massive table in the dining area on which stood several candy holders,
platters of snacks and sliced goose, baskets of bread, plus relishes,
condiments, and butter.  Or they could visit the sideboard on which stood
pitchers of beer plus bottles of wine and liquor with glasses.  Secondary
school boys hired by Frau Luisa stood ready to ensure that they got exactly
what they wished.  Throughout the evening, Carlo circulated, sometimes
sitting for a bit and quietly sketching informal scenes and/or individuals,
sometimes asking individuals to pose for him.  He also obviously enjoyed
sampling the goodies.  As Andy commented somewhat tartly, "The man is a
bottomless pit!"  Papa Peters put a stop to that by commenting that in
Scripture we are reminded not to muzzle the ox that treads the grain - or
something like that.  Andy suddenly had a matter of "official business"
that called him to another part of the building!

Sam finally moved to one end of the living room, stood on a small wooden
platform, and had the lights in both the living and dining rooms turned off
and on.  Looking around and seeing him, guests moved in that general
direction.  "Dear friends, Merry Christmas!  If I may, let me interrupt
your festivities for just a few moments.  There's always a little
'business' - even on Christmas Eve!  First, will everyone stand for a
moment in silence to honor the souls of those who left our lives this year
- or entered this world - as well as Johann Brechenmacher, friend of
Ehrhardt; Dieter Untermeyer, our brother; and Herr Professor Doktor
Goettingen, our dear friend."  "Is that Grandfather?" a small voice could
be heard asking somewhere in the room.  "Yes, dear.  Now shush and think of
Grandpapa," a woman answered.  After a brief pause, Sam thanked his friends
and continued.  Secondly, I must sadly report that no one in DAS HAUS will
allow me to sing."  (A few catcalls broke out, but quickly fell silent.)
"Since I really can't blame them, will Miss Friede Knapp please come
forward and lead us all in the singing of 'Stille Nacht' ["Silent Night"]?"
The lovely young friend of Ulrich stepped up on the platform and led all in
a Christmas hymn loved the world over.  "I must tell you," Sam continued
after thanking Friede, "that my family has another custom or way of
welcoming newcomers."  Sam held up a red Santa hat complete with tasseled
top and white horizontal border - hats whose materials Mrs. Peters had
brought from America and Frau Luisa had sewn just the night before.  Sam
first had Gretchen come forward and hold Rose up so that everyone could see
her...and her hat.  "All right, boys, you may bring in the next newcomers."
A procession of four youngsters each holding one of Blondi's puppies -
seemingly not very happy about their sartorial splendor - slowly stepped up
on the stage and, we may assume, promptly returned to exile.  "Two
important guests are with us tonight, Manfred and Stefan Goettingen.
Gentlemen, will you please step forward."  Slightly embarrassed - but in
reality loving every minute of the attention - Stefan (aged 6) and Manfred
(aged 8) received that hats and returned proudly to their grandmother.
"Finally, if Kurt, our First Boy, would kindly lead the last newcomer up to
the stage."  The tall First Boy appeared from a side door, leading a very
nervous youngster.  The boy stood in front of the Director, facing the
assembly, Sam's arms crossed over his torso.  "It's my pleasure to
introduce the newest full member of DAS HAUS.  He is our BROTHER!  This,
ladies and gentlemen is Hans, a Siebenbuergen Saxon and descendent of Count
Dracula of Wallachia (pronounced wah-LAY-kee-uh)."  With that, Sam fitted a
large Santa hat on his head, a hat whose tassel reached down almost to his
waist!  The Christmas gathering - men, women, and boys - broke into
spontaneous applause and cheers.  Hans twisted his body slightly and looked
back up at Sam with what has to be described as sheer AWE - and who's going
to quibble about the use of that word?

"One more item is on my list - no, make that two - and then you may return
to your merry-making.  First, in just a minutes, all of the boys...and
their girls...and Frau Luisa's assistants - Manfred, Stefan, you're
included - may join Mr. and Mrs. Peters in the next room.  They have
brought small presents for you from America.  Now don't be confused.  These
are not your regular presents.  You will have to wait until morning to see
if the Weihnachtsmann [Santa Claus] brought you coal or something else.
Frankly, I think we need the coal to keep ourselves warm this winter."
(Boos and whistles broke out all around the room!)  "Well, relax, I don't
have anything to do with it!"  (Laughter) "First, however, I am going to
ask Friede of the lovely voice to return to the stage, sing 'Es ist ein Ros
entsprungen' ['Lo How a Rose E'er Blooming'] for us, and then lead all of
us in singing, 'O Tannenbaum' ['O Christmas Tree'].  Friede."  As the
company broke into "O Tannenbaum," an event for which they had all been
waiting took place - the lighting of the Christmas tree.  It was indeed a
beautiful way to end the formal part of the evening - and everyone took
great pleasure in it.  Even Sam and Andreas sang along...quietly.

In the confusion that followed, Sam told Andreas privately that all charges
against Hans had been dropped.  He also said that there was a difference
between "white lies" and "black lies," a point upon which he would expand
still later in bed.  "Promises, promises," Andy taunted before going over
and hugging Hans who had been mobbed by the boys and not a few guests.
Sam, of course, couldn't resist peering into a small room that adjoined the
living room.  His parents had brought a host of small presents from the
States - better than souvenirs, but not expensive articles...you
know...things like small leather cases that held a pocket comb and,
perhaps, a nail file...sometimes a compass...cases that often carried a
tooled design such as an American eagle or a flag.  Each gift had been
lovingly wrapped in bright Christmas paper and ribbon.  Each boy was
allowed to pick out his own from a large sack.  The kids loved them, and
the Peters were crushed with hugs and not a few kisses.  Somehow, all of
the love that had been flowing both ways for the better part of four days
coalesced into a relationship that would live long.  On the way out of the
room, Sam met Andy who was on the way in to collect his gift.  Andy
whispered that Heinrich and Georg had just told him that they were a
couple.  "Thank God," Sam mumbled, "if that doesn't calm their gonads down,
nothing will!"  Seeing Heinrich and Georg across the room, Sam caught their
eye, grinned widely, and saluted.  Pumping their fists in the air, they
grinned back.  Seeing Frau Goettingen and the boys resting on chairs in the
dining area, he headed over to them.  "Had the boys gotten their gifts?
No?"  Calling Hans over, he asked if the teen would help.  "These guys are
Manfred and Stefan.  If Frau Goettingen agrees, would you take them into
the next room and make sure that they get their gifts...without being
trampled by the wild animals?"  Frau Goettingen did agree, and her
grandsons were soon off in the care of a very proud young German.  "Dear
Lady, are you alright?" he asked.  "No, Samuel, I fear that I am slipping.
I am ready, but I do so fear for my grandchildren.  There is no one..."
"Dear friend," Sam replied, "know that Manfred and Stefan will NEVER go
without love and care.  You have my personal word of honor."  "Thank you,
Samuel.  You will never know how that lays my heart at rest."  Seeing the
boys returning with Hans, gifts and sodas clasped tightly in their hands,
she smiled tiredly and said, "Go now.  You have guests...dear Samuel."
"Thank you.  I'll see you again before you go."  Sam caught Hans after he
had finished delivering the boys.  "Well, Hans, that was well done.  I'm
proud of you!  I suspect that Manfred and Stefan will be brothers some day.
They'll remember you."  "Thank you, Herr Direktor," Hans mumbled, pink
appearing on his face and ears.  "We must be honest with each other, sir.
I am not really positive that I am a descendent of Count Dracula.  People
have said I am, but I don't know for sure.  I hope you will not think that
I've been lying to you."  Sam grabbed the boy in a tight hug and asked him
if that answered his question.  "Yes, sir, it sure does - and thanks."  Sam
gestured for Bruno to come over.  "Bruno, this newbie needs some food.  Can
you help him fill a big plate?"  The boys walked off towards the tables,
smiling, arms around each other's shoulders.  Curiously, Hans had a strange
look on his face and was sniffing the air suspiciously.  "Gotta talk to
that hairball," Sam said to no one in particular.

Immediately after Sam had slipped into his office for two minutes peace and
quiet, a knock sounded - and Franz and Genevieve knocked and entered.
Perhaps 15 minutes later - the party still in full swing - Andreas was
walking from the dining room back into the living room and couldn't help
but see Franz and Genevieve slipping out of the office.  Waiting for them
to clear the area, he knocked on the door.  There was no answer.  Again he
knocked.  No answer.  Turning the doorknob silently, Andy entered the small
windowless room only to behold Sam, his head down on the desk, his
shoulders shaking.  A flood of tears had already spread out onto the desk
beyond his head.  "Sam, Sam," he cried out.  "Oh, Sam, I am so sorry.  This
is all my fault!  I should never have pushed you into it!  Sam, will you
ever forgive me?"  If anything, Andy's lover sobbed even harder - at which
point Andy began to cry piteously.  Making an effort to pull himself
together, Sam slightly lifted his torso from the desk.  His eyes perhaps
only eight inches (20.32 cm) from Andy's, he held his boy's face in his
hands kissed him, and choked out, "You don't understand, my beloved.  They
have decided that the baby...our child...goes to America with us."

Later that night, the party having ended joyfully, the house bedded down,
their Christmas presents for the boys and staff brought out of their hiding
places and arranged around the base of the tree, Sam and Andreas lay naked
on their bed.  As had been the case a year ago (See Part 5.), there was a
bright moon shining through light snowflakes.  The roofs as far as they
could see sparkled in their whiteness.  As they had on that fateful evening
- the first evening when their love had found full expression - the bells
of the old cathedral downtown began to toll, sounding the midnight arrival
of the Christ Child.  Suddenly, dissonantly, a knock reverberated
throughout the room.  "Scheisse!' ["Shit!"] Sam swore.  "It is only I,
Carlo," a voice said from without the door.  Vowing that he wouldn't move a
muscle, naked or not, Sam snapped, "Herein!" ["Come in!"]  "I am sorry,
dear people, but I fear I ate and drank a little too much and fell asleep."
(Andy snorted.)  Placing a rather thick sheaf of papers and light boards on
a chest, he said, "I have here a few sketches that I did for you and
Andreas alone.  Merry Christmas."  Sam started, suddenly realizing in his
fatigue that he had not paid the man.  "Thank you, Carlo.  What do we owe
you?"  "There was a great deal of beauty in this house tonight, Major -
and, further, though I did not believe you, I WAS treated like an honored
guest...by everyone," Carlo said.  "I almost think I owe you!"  "That is
not possible, Carlo.  I heard compliments about your work all evening.
Andy and I are grateful."

"Well," Carlo mused, "if you will allow me to take home some of the
delicious uneaten food...  and, perhaps, one bottle of vino...AND if you
will allow me to paint one more picture that I shall give you as a special
Christmas present, I shall count us even.  After whispering for a moment
with his Andy, Sam popped his head back up and said, "Yes!"  "Very well,
come downstairs where I have the advantage of firelight.  The house is
still very warm, and I think you will be entirely comfortable without
dressing."

Once in the living room, Carlo threw one medium-sized log on the fire.
"What do you want us to do, Carlo?" Andy asked.  Sitting back against the
stone wall of the fireplace, Carlo pointed at the carpet in front of him.
"I want you to show your love to each other."  Sam was ready to protest
when Carlo held up his hand.  "I am not asking you to have sex in front of
a relative stranger, though you may if you wish.  Harder still, I want you
to make me feel your love.  That means that YOU must feel it until your
teeth ache...until your hearts are ready to burst.  Your love must so fill
this room that the angels from heaven itself will come down to sing over
you.  Capite?" ["Do you understand?"]

Sam was obviously a little shell-shocked...until, that is, Andy took him in
hand.  Standing behind his lover, Andy slowly ran his hands over his back
and down over his buttocks.  He turned him around and, reaching up just
slightly, kissed him full on the mouth.  He sucked demandingly on his
Adam's apple and ground his groin into his man's.  Inasmuch as no one has
ever claimed that Sam was a rock, the young American began to respond in
kind.  Sensually, he folded his beloved husband in his arms and slowly
lowered him to the carpet.  For some reason, he chose to lie down behind
Andy...perhaps because that was the best position to play with the front of
his body and feel the muscles of his lover's buttocks play with his
genitals that were pressed hard against them.  God...NO ONE could do that
like Andy!  Lowering his head, he smothered his boy's face in passionate
kisses...and his shoulders...and the thick muscles that jutted out,
fan-like, from the upper sides of his smooth golden torso.  And so it
continued until Andy couldn't take another second and rolled over on his
back.  Reaching a hand up to caress Sam's face, he whispered hungrily,
"Take me, Sam, and know that I shall never love another as I love you...my
dear, dear husband."  And Sam did.  And their shrieks sounded throughout
the quiet, dark house as they became one.

Regaining their breath, they looked uncomfortably over at Carlo who sat as
if paralyzed.  "Carlo, if we have offended..." Andy began.  "Be quiet,
child," Carlo commanded.  "Samuel, I am going to place the painting up in
this alcove when it will remain hidden until you retrieve it tomorrow.  If
I may but take a bottle or two of wine with me, I wonder if I might come
back tomorrow and collect a little food."  "Of course...anything."  While
Andy went to get a couple of bottles of good Chianti, Carl came up to Sam,
hugged him, and kissed him on both cheeks.  When Andy returned, he took the
bottles before bussing him in similar fashion.  "The angels from heaven
itself," he muttered as he staggered out the front door.

"Take me upstairs, husband!" Andy giggled.  Throwing the hunky kid over his
shoulder, tightly locking an arm across the back of his muscular thighs,
and pausing occasionally to turn his face and nibble on a vulnerable
buttock, Sam slowly climbed the stairs...on Christmas morning.

They had not been alone.  Oh, you think that your author is referring to
Carlo?  No, no, not at all.  In a deep recess in the dining room - probably
once designed to hold a large tropical plant in a giant urn - a large
figure sat on a heavy wooden chair titled slightly against the wall.  Up
against the side of the massive German sideboard, it might have been
difficult to see him from most angles during the day.  At night, it was
next to impossible.  He, however, had a straight view across the dining
room and a small hallway, into the living room, and directly to the great
fireplace.  Papa Peters had not been able to sleep, for the evening had
excited him nearly as much as when he had first laid eyes on his good wife.
He had come downstairs to nurse a long Scotch, to become sleepy, and to
return to bed in order to try again.  Yes, the morning's present giving
would be fun.  He and his beloved had done well by their boys - and so many
more of their new family.  How they had come to love ALL of them this week!
He rather regretted that his girl absolutely refused to tell the boys of
their meeting with Franz and Genevieve, but they would go home, knowing how
important a role they had played in the outcome.  And above all, he thought
deliciously, however difficult the leave-taking, his boys were coming home!
Moreover, they would be joined by the newest member of the Peters' clan,
their grandchild!  He was just beginning to feel sleepy when Carlo and his
boys came downstairs and trapped him without hope of escape.

Exaltedly, he threw his head back against the wall.  Dear God, why had he
feared it so?  He'd even had a hard-on as he witnessed the ferocious
display of love between his sons - and no lightening bolt had melted him to
the chair!  Was there any less passion than had characterized his own
love-making only a few years ago?  Was there any less love?  Was there a
SCINTILLA of evidence that there was any less of the "caring" requisite to
a lasting relationship?  No, no, God, NO!  He shook his thick white hair in
jubilation.

And, slowly, he dropped his head to give thanks to his God in prayer.


(To Be Continued)