Date: Sat, 07 Apr 2007 10:49:07 +0200
From: A.K. <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com>
Subject: Chronicles of a Destiny 8/9 (Young Fiends)

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CHRONICLES OF A DESTINY
by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2007
written on November 1, 1993
translated by the author
English text kindly revised by John

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USUAL DISCLAIMER

"CHRONICLES OF A DESTINY" is a gay story, with some parts containing
graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion,
family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better
not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't
care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my
welcomed guest.

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EIGHT PART

1983 - July

The trial was over and the four men had been found guilty and sentenced;
as all had past convictions, they were now all in prison. Marco and
Petruzzo were also under investigation because the police had discovered
their stolen cars racket. Moreover, searching Saro's house, the police
found stolen goods of his previous robberies, so that he too would
undergo another trial for the past thefts.

At times Giampaolo was still approached by reporters who wanted to write
articles on the "after kidnapping" effects and about the victim
reintegration into normal life. But the outcry was subsiding so
Giampaolo could really resume his normal life. Giampaolo's father wanted
his son to have periodical meetings with a psychiatrist, until the
specialist declared that the boy, thank to his remarkable psychic
equilibrium, had totally overcome that bad experience, without suffering
psychological traumas.

Giampaolo was smiling in himself, thinking that in reality his
"remarkable psychic equilibrium" had a name - Damiano. Without him he
would surely not been able to survive unharmed from those eight months
of segregation.

Thus, Giampaolo and Damiano started to go out of home together. One of
the first things that Giampaolo decided to do, was to go with Damiano to
the bank to open an account at his name to transfer there all his money.
But Damiano wanted Giampaolo to have his signature on his account, and
he in his turn wanted Damiano's signature on his own.

They went also to do window shopping, buying something here and there -
a  shirt, a couple of books, a swimming trunks... But what they liked
more was to be simple able to go around together, to comment what they
were seeing, to compare their tastes and preferences, to browse round
the shops. And this, mainly for Damiano who had never left his little
village, was really new, beautiful, fascinating.

They ought three CD, then a line of eau de Cologne, before and after
shave. Then they stopped at a bar to have a coffee milk-shake.

"Gosh, how good is going around so, Giampaolo! How many beautiful
things, new things... The city is filled of beautiful, exciting things.
When I was in Bologna for my army service I never strolled around so. Do
you know that I almost didn't see Bologna? Almost only the barracks...
and my johns' beds! This is really life!"

Giampaolo was enjoying the happy astonishment of his lover. And he also
enjoyed having at his side such a beautiful boy. He often got lost in
the contemplation of the deep, luminous eyes of Damiano, of his
beautiful, well shaped and sensual lips, now often enlivened by a light
smile, and he thought he was lucky to be there, with him.

Giamapaolo had received a letter from Sergio, who was now living in
Venice with his Paolo, and who was inviting them to go to see them in
August and proposed to have a couple of holidays, all four together to
tour Yugoslavia. He talked about that with Damiano and they had accepted
the invitation. Giampaolo's family wanted him to spend a couple of weeks
in Egypt with them, and had accepted to invite also Damiano. The boy was
feeling somewhat embarrassed at the thought to stay with his lover's
family, but in the end accepted. They so planned their vacations.

But at times destiny disposes things in a different way...

Damiano father was going every now and then to the regional capital to
visit his cousin Saro in jail. In one occasion they had also talked
about Damiano's disappearance. Vincenzo had come to the persuasion that
his son had betrayed them, in spite of the putting on of a brawl. Saro,
instead, thought that the boy was just hiding for the shame to have been
fooled by the prisoner.

"If Damiano had betrayed us, he would have made our names and the cops
would have come to take us at once, they wouldn't have needed three
weeks of inquiries to pinch us, don't you see?" Saro said.

But, after one of his visits to the prison, while Vincenzo was going
back to the railways station on a bus, thought he had seen his son. He
got off the bus and hurriedly went to the point where he thought he had
seen his son pass. He looked here and there, but there was no trace of
Damiano.

But Vincenzo was not the kind who easily gives up. Thus on his following
visits to Saro, he first passed in a coffee shop to deposit a parcel,
then went to the jail to meet Saro and give him some fruit, cigarettes,
money. When he came out, he passed again to the coffee shop to retrieve
his parcel that contained his spring-knife, put it in his pocket and
went back where he had first thought he had seen Damiano, and wandered
until it was time to take the train.

And so, one day, he saw him.

In a first moment he had just thought to face him to ask him how really
things had happened and why he was hiding. But while he walked to reach
him, he recognized in the young man who was walking at his side and
talking with him: the kidnapped boy.

"They are in cahoots, the bastards!" the man said in his teeth feeling
his blood going to his head, "he sold them, that disgusting worm! I was
right!"

He hid not to be seen by his son, then followed them. When he saw they
were in an almost secluded place, he reached them, pulled out his
spring-knife making it go off, and went at Damiano's back.

"Damià, come to your Dad!" he said with a sneer.

Damiano turned, alarmed, and the man delivered a strong knife stab in
his chest, shouting, "To hell, stinker!"

Giampaolo screamed and flew on the man, careless of the danger, while
Damiano was flopping down in a sea of blood, his eyes wide.

Giampaolo and the man started a fierce struggle. The young man's screams
attracted some people. The man was immobilized and was shouting, his
look upset and frothing at his mouth.

"I gave him life, I'll take it back! Stinker! Bastard!"

They had also to immobilize Giampaolo who was furious, hysterical and
wanted to kill the man. Fist came the ambulance, called from somebody,
and soon after also the police. Damiano was hurriedly brought at the
first aid, while Vincenzo, Giampaolo and some witnesses were brought to
the police headquarters.

Giampaolo was questioned about his version of the facts. He said he knew
Damiano since a couple of months, that he was hosting him in his house
because the boy wanted to resume his studies and he was helping him, and
that he had no idea why the father had stabbed his son.

Vincenzo had shut himself like a clam and they were not able to get a
word out of him. He was put in prison while Giampaolo was released. The
boy immediately called Silver and then rushed at the hospital. Damiano
was in the operating theatre where they were trying to save his life;
the prognosis was reserved. Silver also arrived at the hospital and
Giampaolo told him what had happened.

Silver advised him to contact a lawyer at once to be certain to do the
right moves to avoid Damiano to be put in relation with his kidnapping.

"If his father talks, you both will be in trouble... And also if they
question Damiano before you could have agreed on a story about why you
know each other..." Silver said.

+++++++++++++++++++

1983 - August

Damiano's father didn't talk, also because the lawyer, a gay friend of
Silver to whom Giampaolo had told all the true story, managed to meet
the man in the jail and told him that if he would talk about the
kidnapping, he would at once be reported for continued rape on minors:
his sons. And the lawyer informed him that for somebody with such a
charge, in jail his days would be numbered...

Damiano remained in a state of unconsciousness, between life and death,
for ten days, during which Giampaolo watched by his bedside. He didn't
want to hear about going on holidays with his family, even though his
father offered him to pay a private nurse to assist his friend in the
hospital.

When finally Damiano recovered his senses, Giampaolo was there, sitting
near him.

"Gimpaolo..."

"Mouse..."

"I'm still alive, then."

"Yes, sure. Wouldn't you go without me, by chance?"

"No, sure... It's been Dad... He made me pay..."

"That monster!"

"Did he escape?"

"No, he's in jail."

Giampaolo explained him what the lawyer had advised him, and that he had
said at the police headquarters, "They will come to question you as soon
as they get to know you recovered your senses. The have absolutely not
to put you in relation with the kidnapping. Do you remember what you
have to say them?"

"Yes, love. I'm feeling so tired... I'm happy you're here..."

He recovered. He too talked with the lawyer and, in his presence, gave
his deposition to the police. He said that his father had always  ill
treated him, and that this was the reason he had left his house. But he
didn't expect for such a reaction from his father...

Damiano was slowly recovering. He had lost much blood, but no vital
organs had been irreparably injured.

Silver was showing to be more and more of a good friend - he had been
very close to Giampaolo all along the days Damiano had been unconscious
and the prognosis was still reserved, and had backed him up. But
Giampaolo's father found that his son was going too far in being willing
to assist his companion at any cost.

Thus, one day around the end of August, he went to visit his son in his
apartment, he said, "Alright, that boy freed you. I can understand you
feel gratitude. But now, all this devotion seems rather excessive. Not
even if you were husband and wife or brothers!"

"He's more than a brother to me, Dad. If it was not for his help, I
would have gone crazy in those eight months. And I could even possibly
be still there, with some missing fingers, while you were still trying
to gather the money."

"You aren't saying I didn't want to pay, I didn't suffer, I hope."

"No, I neither said nor thought that. I just want to make you understand
how important Damiano is for me. And if his father has stabbed him, it's
because he understood that his son freed me. That's why now Damiano is
there, in the hospital, because of me."

"Yes, yes, I know, I can get to understand it by myself. And I agree
that you want to give him a hand. But goodness! His life is his own and
your life is your own. Shit, if you weren't two boys, I would think you
were in love!"

At this point Giampaolo looked straight into his father's eyes and made
a resolution. He took a deep breath.

Then said, "I am in love with him, Dad."

"What? You got to like him, you mean..."

"No, in love, in love. And he with me. It's his love, there in the cave,
that kept me alive..."

"Love, love! Are you aware what are you talking about?"

"Yes, Dad. That Damiano and I make love."

"Eh? What? You're joking... But what bullshit..."

"There in the cave, I started to make love with him..."

"Did he rape you?"

"No, Dad, I asked him to."

"He took profit of your fear, of your weakness..."

"No, Dad, we fell in love. And we are still in love, and we still make
love, won't you understand?"

"But you aren't a..."

"Faggot, Dad? Homosexual, queer, gay, pervert... how do you call them?
Yes, both of us are so."

His father looked at him frowning, than said, "It has been your
captivity... but I will have you cured..."

"No, Dad, I've always been so. It's since I ended the middle school that
I understood it. So now I have had sex with men for eight years."

"But... but... my god how disgusting! My son a degenerate... I can't
believe it... But... did you never do it with a girl?"

"Never, Dad."

"You see? It's just for that. Listen, I can pay an easy girl for you and
you will see that you'll change your mind..."

"No, Dad, please! It isn't that, the problem. I'm just that way..."

"No! No, Giampaolo. I raised you properly, I thought you rightly. You
cannot... it's not possible..."

They discussed, but it was just a waste their breath.

"If your poor mother comes to know it... she will die of a broken
heart!"

"It's not my fault if I'm made that way."

"No, you aren't made that way. You have to change. Listen, I will find a
pretty girl for you, and you will marry..."

"No, Dad. Besides the fact that in any case it would be for me to find a
pretty girl, not you. But I don't want one. I don't want to marry. I am
in love with Damiano and want to live with him."

"My god how gross... you're disgusting me..."

"Thank you, Dad."

"Why do you want to waste your life so, phew, tell me!"

"Waste my life? But I'm happy so, Dad. Can't you understand I'm so, and
I feel good, and I'm happy?"

"Not I! And don't you think about my happiness?"

"Dad, your happiness is your concern, not mine. You made your life, now
you can't decide about mine. Dad, it's as if I told you - listen, Dad,
to make me happy, find a male lover! Would you do it?"

"Don't talk bullshit; don't speak enormities. A man has to be bound to a
woman, not to another man!"

"No, Dad, a man has to bound to the person he loves..."

"Listen... you're my son. How much this upsets me, I can also pretend I
knew nothing. But I don't want to ever again hear such things, is that
understood? Neither of this thing nor of that person. Let's forget this
subject."

"Oh no, Dad. Either you accept me as I am, and therefore also him, or
you lose me too."

"No, Giampaolo, it's not for you to impose conditions, it's for me.
Either you leave that person, or you will never show up at my home
again."

"Dad, besides I having absolutely no intention to leave Damiano, even if
I left him nothing would be solved. In his place I would find another
one..."

"So, then... goodbye, you on your way and I on mine."

"What will you say at home, that I will show up never again?"

"The truth, of course."

"Alright. If your home is closed for me... my home will always be open
for you..."

"Ah, Giampaolo... I'm a man of my word. I promised you I would support
you for your studies... and I would give that one a monthly allowance. I
will send you two cheques to let you have all I promised you. But after
that, don't expect one more lira from me, this should be clear."

"Do as you like, Dad. But I would have preferred receiving your
understanding more than your money. Yes, really."

"It costs less to lose money that to understand such a... such a...
loathsome thing!"

"Yes, you are right, Dad, it's easier to give money than love."

+++++++++++++++++++++++

1983 - September

His mother cried at the telephone, but had sided with her husband -
either you change, or don't come here any more. His brother had only
said it was his own fucking business and, even though he was not happy
with the news, Giampaolo was gay and he didn't feel like judging him.
His sister didn't talk with him.

All long this family crisis, Giampaolo said nothing to Damiano, so as
not to trouble him. When the two cheques from his father arrived, rather
generous, he had to admit, as they were of a hundred million liras each,
went to deposit them on their two accounts. Also in this occasion, the
only one to whom he could get the load off his chest and open his heart,
was Silver.

When Damiano was discharged from hospital and went back home, Giampaolo
finally decide to tell him about the hard confrontation with his father.

"Oh, my poor love! It's my fault..."

"Shush! It's not your fault. It has been my choice and I'm proud I did
it. I just didn't think... I was under the illusion that my parents
loved me, that they would have understood, accepted. That they would
have been happy for my happiness. And on the contrary..."

"But possibly, in their own way, they love you. It is not their fault if
they are not able to understand. They have been raised in that way..."
Damiano sweetly said, caressing him.

"It could be... But when will we cease suffering?"

"Who knows... But at least you have me and I have you. Therefore we are
strong, aren't we?"

"Yes, love, we are strong. You make me strong, Damiano."

Damiano had enrolled in a private high school for architectural
draftsmen, so that he could study the first two years in one and so
recover part of his lost time. In fact Giampaolo was certain that his
boy would succeed easily.

They had bought a second hand Fiat 126 car, so every day Giampaolo
accompanied him to school, went to the university, then went to fetch
him and go back home together. Now  that both were attending school,
they shared the housework. Then they studied, in the living room using
two desks side by side. At times they were looking each other, smiling,
happy just to have the other close by. At times, instead, they eyes
coloured with desire. They didn't need to say a word; they understood
each other.

Then one of them stood up and drew nearer the other who, staying seated,
embraced his waist pulling him to himself and brushed his face on the
already swollen fly of the other. Then he opened his trousers, freed his
member and welcomed it, making it gently slip into his mouth.

They were then forgetting their studies for a while, devoting to each
other, searching, rummaging, until their desire was so strong that they
could not go without uniting in a passionate love making. They could
forget all life's ugly things, all the difficulties, the dangers. Only
they two existed. They were giving themselves to each other with
transport until their passion was consummated, was burned in their
mutual love.

+++++++++++++++++++++

1983 - October

One afternoon, they were quietly studying, side by side as usual. The
door bell rang. Giampaolo stood up and went to open it.

A boy of around eighteen, curly, dark-skinned, lean, looked at him
seriously, then said, "Minni Damiano lives here, doesn't he?"

"Who are you?" Giampaolo asked, tense and diffident.

"Minni Pietro, his brother."

"Come in." Giampaolo said and guided him to the living room.

When Damiano saw his brother, he stood up, hesitant, frowning and asked
him, "Pietro, what are you doing here?"

"I need to talk with you. Alone."

"No, Pietro. If you have to tell me something, he can listen."

"He's the one from the cave, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"And you live together, now?"

"Yes."

"And you say he can listen to anything?"

"Sure, anything."

All three were still standing. Giamapolo was looking at the two brothers
and now could perceive some resemblance, a family air.

"We can sit down..." he said.

Damiano went to sit on the sofa. Pietro sat at his side, so Giampaolo
sat on the armchair in front of them.

"Well, then, Pietro, how did you find me?"

"They know you're here..."

"They, who?"

"Luca, and our cousin Tano. They know you're here. And they want you to
pay because our father and uncle Saro are in jail. I heard them say so.
And so I came to forestall you. You have to hide, to go away, you cannot
stay here..."

"Why do they want to make me pay? I didn't report them. It's not my
fault if they're in jail. Especially for Dad. It was he who attacked
me..."

"Damiano, I believe you and understand you. You know I love you,
especially after what you did for me. That's why, when I heard Luca and
Tano talk of you, I spied on them and then came here."

"But how did they find out I'm living here?"

"That I dunno. But somebody must have told them. He possibly heard from
Dad that you now live with him, I dunno. I too, to find you, had just to
look on the telephone book for his name, that I heard from Luca..."

"Therefore, Giampaolo is also in danger."

"That I dunno. I just know they want to make you pay, Damiano. Reach
safety, I beg you. Leave, go away..."

"I will talk with Giampaolo and we will decide together." Damiano
answered.

Pietro then looked at Giampaolo, "Try to persuade him... Our father
tried to harm him, and now they also... And even if they fail, who would
be the next one? I don't want them to harm Damiano!" the boy said,
grief-stricken.

"Thank you, Pietro. I will talk with your brother and we will decide
what to do. I too don't want him to be harmed any more."

"Make him go far from here. To the north, possibly. Or even abroad. Some
place where nobody knows him, a big city..." the boy insisted.

"We will think about it, Pietro. Thank you."

"I owed this to you, after what you did for me. But you, Damiano, you
trust me, don't you?"

"Sure."

"You know I will never ever betray you, don't you?"

"Of course I know."

"Is it true you made him escape?"

"Yes, it is true."

"If you did it, you should have had a serious reason, right?"

"They wanted to cut his fingers, to persuade his father to pay."

"I see. And now you are living with him."

"Sure."

"Why?"

"Because I fit well with him."

"Yes, but... he... what's he for you?"

"What can he be, in your opinion?"

"I don't know, I don't understand. That's why I'm asking you."

"And why do you want to know, Pietro?"

"Because... I don't know why."

"No, Pietro. I trust you, then you have also to trust me."

"But he is here..."

"I told you, Giampaolo has the right to hear everything. Talk."

"Well, Luca says that... that you to are... are two faggots. Is it
true?"

"And what does Luca know about that?"

"He said that Dad told him."

"And if it were true?"

"Then it's true." Pietro said in a flat tone.

"And this does seem weird to you?"

"No... yes... no. But that's why you freed him?"

"Also."

"Also?"

"Yes, also. What do you know, Pietro, about faggots?"

"I? That they like... being fucked in the ass by males."

"And then?"

"And then? And then that's all."

"But you, what do you think?"

"What do I have to think? Each one is in is own way."

"And of me, what do you think?"

"That you're my brother, my favourite brother. That I love you. And that
what you do with him is your fucking business. But... which of you is
the male?"

Damiano smiled, "Both of us."

"How, both of you?"

"Pietro, the problem is not who is the male. The problem is if two
merely fuck, or if two love each other."

"You mean that you two..." Pietro asked, knitting his eyebrows.

"We two love each other, we are in love with each other. He with me and
I with him."

"But two males... can also love each other?"

"It seems so. Look at us, for instance."

"Ah."

"It seems so weird to you, Pietro?"

"I don't know, at this point. I have to think about it. But you,
Damiano, are you happy?"

"Happy? More than happy!"

"You have a nice place... and you are studying again as you liked so
much..."

"It's not that, Pietro. Even if we lived in a hole and had to toil like
animals... Giampaolo and I would love each other all the same. Can you
understand this?"

"Yes, I guess I can. Well, Giampaolo, even more if it's true that you
love him, take him far from here. Do so that nothing bad happens to him,
to my brother, please!" Pietro concluded.

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CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 9

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In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to
read them, the URL is

http://andrejkoymasky.com

If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English
translations, so that I can put on-line more of my  stories in English
please e-mail at

andrej@andrejkoymasky.com

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