Sins and Lovers

Sins and Lovers Part 2

(c)2002 Alex D

Robert wasn't at reception when I got back. Casim was there instead, checking in a group of Scandinavian-looking blonde girls, a beaming smile on his face. He waved me away impatiently, so I assumed my services were not required. I sighed and went to my bed, flopping down in a heap. Judging by the new backpacks sitting about, the room had been filled. I wondered glumly what kind of loonies Robert had put in here to get his revenge.

Enter the biggest crusty I had ever seen. Dreadlocks, ridiculous tufty beard, piercings everywhere imaginable. A rainbow woolly hat, Che Guevara t-shirt, brightly coloured baggy trousers. Ankle bracelets with bells and Moses sandals. I stifled a groan.

"G'day mate" he said, peering down at me and grinning, his blue eyes startling against the tan. "Name's Ben."

"Alex" I grunted, feeling antisocial.

Ben took no notice of my mood. "We were up in Tel Aviv last week for a week or so. Freaky stuff."

I wondered what he was walking about. "Freaky...?"

"Mate, me and Rhianna, that's the girlfriend, we were on this bus going along the sea front and we were absolutely bushed, y'know, we'd been planning on going shopping and Rhianna says, spur of the moment like, let's get off here and sit on the beach for a bit. So we get off, right, and about 200 meters down the road, the bus blows up. Twenty or so people killed. Suicide bomber. We must've been sitting right next to the bloke." He shook his head and fished a fat joint out of his pocket. "Freaky stuff. Makes you think."

"My god" I was shocked. "That would make you think, right enough." I had heard about the bombing, of course, but growing up where I did, I rarely gave bombings a second thought.

"Yeah" Ben said, lighting up. "there but for the grace of god, and all that. Want some?"

I didn't need to be asked twice. About an hour later we were best mates. We were stoned out of our skulls and giggling like a couple of schoolgirls when a crusty-looking girl came in, dressed in similar regalia to Ben. "Alex!" he roared, slapping me on the back. "This here's Rhianna. Love, this is Alex. Another fucking pot head." He burst out laughing.

"G'day Alex" she smiled pleasantly. "Hey, Ben, guess what I got for only 5 shekels!"

I saw the shape of the bag and groaned. "Jerusalem's finest gin?" I said, rolling onto my back.

"You've had it before then" she said, laughing. "Nasty stuff?"

"The nastiest" I nodded, noticing Rhianna's tongue stud and smiling faintly.

There was a silence.

"I'll get the glasses then" Ben said, standing up. "You up for it?" I shrugged. "Sure" I said. Abusing my body was second nature to me now. I was sure the gin wouldn't be as bad second time round.

We sat there for a couple of hours, and the gin slowly disappeared. Jens joined us and helped us finish the bottle. I said nothing about his indiscretions, blaming myself for trusting himself in the first place. Nothing mattered anymore, now that my head was swimming and my teeth were numb. Amazingly, I was feeling pretty lively. Ben and Rhianna had been entertaining me for hours with their stories of their 3 months in Egypt: groping men, dodgy hotels and frisky camels mostly. My sides were sore from laughing when Robert entered the room, closely followed by Suzanne. I was beyond thinking, and gestured to the two of them to sit down beside me, which surprisingly they did.

"Ben, tell these two about what happened in Tel Aviv" I said, suddenly worried that Robert was going to say something embarrassing. Ben started his story again, with interjections from Rhianna, and by the end of it Suzanne and Robert were as open-mouthed as I had been.

"You only live once" Rhianna slurred, in that wise tone that only comes with being completely plastered.

"You do indeed" Ben nodded. She hugged him, and some kind of unspoken communication happened between them. There was a brief silence.

"Used to be a smack head, mate" Ben said, draining his glass. "Gave it up when my best mate died of an overdose." He refilled his glass and waved it in the air. "To Stevo."

"Stevo" murmured Rhianna. I took a drink and pondered what Ben had said.

"My best friend also took an overdose" Robert said suddenly.

I was horrified. Was this the Tim he had been talking about?

No one else seemed to mind the drink-fuelled Oprah Winfreyish turn the conversation was taking. I squirmed, praying for a lighter moment, suddenly starting to sober up. None came.

"What happened?" asked Rhianna, her eyes bloodshot and full of concern.

"Yeah" Robert said. "We were studying divinity, you know, to become priests, and he had...well, a crisis of faith. There was so much pressure on him from his family, well, they were really religious and he and I...anyway, to cut a long story short his parents blamed me for turning him away from God, and next thing I hear he was in hospital. They said he didn't want to see me."

My mouth fell open and I gaped at him. Robert had been training to be a priest?

It was clear that was all he was going to say. Suzanne patted him on the arm. "That's terrible" she said softly.

"You were going to be a priest? Wow." Rhianna raised her glass. "That takes some commitment, no shagging and all that."

"Yeah." Robert smiled at her and I felt my stomach do a flip. "Celibacy is a killer. I could have done it though, only...never mind." He looked at the floor.

I so desperately regretted asking Ben to tell his story again. I couldn't bear all this serious talk. My euphoria had deserted me and I had an ominous feeling of dread as the topic turned to suicide. Jens started talking about one of his friends who had tried to kill herself after being raped. There was a buzzing in my ears. I got up. "I'm away for a piss" I said and staggered out of the room. Somehow I made it to the toilets just before I threw up. I knelt there, gasping, trying to compose myself. Robert was waiting for me outside, leaning against the wall.

"You OK?" he asked.

I meant to laugh it off and nod, but my face crumpled and to my horror I started crying. I just could not hold it in. It was like a dam had burst and my face was flooding. He enveloped me in his arms as I soaked his shoulder. "I'm sorry" I whispered over and over. Apologising to whom. For what.

"It's OK" he whispered in my ear as the torrent subsided, and I was quiet, red eyed and chest hitching.

"Right" he said eventually, in that lets-cheer-up voice people put on when confronted with a bawling child. "We'll say you were sick. That's all. Then we'll go out up to the Arizona or the Underground for some dancing. How does that sound?"

"OK" I hiccupped, embarrassed at my display.

He kissed me, and I was seized with the urge to shag him there and then, but I remembered I'd just barfed and broke the kiss hurriedly. "I stink" I said glumly, but he laughed. "I don't care" he chuckled, kissing me again. "C'mon."

Now I'm usually a tolerant person, but if there's one thing that drives me mad, it's being deprived of sleep.

Ben was a great guy, but he was a heavy sleeper and with good reason. His snoring could have woken the dead. For nights I lay there, staring at the ceiling in sticky-eyed frustration, hallucinating the presence of potential murder weapons all around me.I was becoming a twitching psycho. Suzanne left for Jordan, which didn't improve my mood. All the private rooms were taken, so there was no chance of slipping into one of them unnoticed. I was getting desperate. I needed to take action. So I scored some weed, wrapped up in my warmest winter clothes and headed up to the roof. Casim's mattress would be useful after all.

The night sky was dark and brightly lit by a full moon. My breath rose in clouds, and I shivered. I felt alone, but not lonely. It was nice, some solitude in a crowd. Ben and Rhianna were going on the Masada trip the next day, so they had gone to bed early. Jens and the guys were out at the Underground. And Robert...well, he had disappeared, apparently. The other people in his dorm said he hadn't been back for two nights. I was faintly worried, but he was a grown man, and I tried not to feel responsible for his increasing mental instability.

I didn't mean to smoke it all but gradually it disappeared and I felt my limbs become like lead weights. The stars were so bright, I could not stop staring at them. How beautiful they were, how vast the universe. Infinite sparkling spots before my eyes. The mattress was like velvet beneath me.

My eyes were almost dry from not blinking when I felt someone shaking me.

Dumbly, I tried to focus. Was it Robert? A dark haired person. No, it was a girl. "Are you Alex?" she was saying.

My mouth emitted some kind of grunt. I could smell beer. "Someone said you had some grass."

I fumbled for the bag and held it up. Maybe enough for a small one. I smiled, hoping she would take it and piss off. "Thanks mate." She started skinning up right beside me. Not the most attractive girl I'd ever seen, a bit on the porky side but at least she was clean looking.

I expected the usual conversation openers (Where are you from? How long have you been here?) and was preparing to be bored when she said, out of the blue, "Fancy a shag?"

It took a few minutes for the implications of her question to make their way into my brain, and I was about to refuse when she winked at me and said "I have a private room."

The prospect of a quiet night's sleep seemed so good I was prepared to do anything. I was so completely stoned that I had no worries about my performance at all, and no moral doubts. Little did I know how bad it was going to be. It was like something out of Fatal Attraction. She flung me on the bed and practically leapt on. I kept thinking, this isn't real, this can't be happening. Somehow I got a hard on and I kind of came to my senses as she was riding me. My cock was getting more and more numb with every second. Increasingly desperate for it to be over, I tried to think about Suzanne to help me through the posts, so to speak. But the image that kept coming into my mind was that of Robert, sleeping on the roof on that warm afternoon. Thinking about him, I blew my load inside her, almost thanking god aloud that I had managed to finish at all.

Then I got what I had really come for, if you'll excuse the pun: a good night's sleep. Ah, but it was ecstasy.

I woke up at around 5pm the following night. The room was empty and she had checked out. I wondered if she had ever existed, but the tied up condom was still in the bin, providing concrete evidence that it had not been some drug-fuelled fantasy. Puzzled, smelly and blinking stupidly, I stumbled out into reception.

"What a sight for sore eyes you are" Robert's voice. He was sprawled on the sofa. I was dismayed to see he was sporting the pyjama style trousers I had noticed all the Dutch guys wearing. I flopped down beside him. "Where have you been?" I asked, before being seized by the mother of all yawns.

"Suzanne's just left and already you're hopping into bed with every chick that comes along. Nice."

I felt a blush creeping up my face. "Hey now," I protested. "That was...one fucking weird night."

He laughed and hit me with a cushion. "You really have no morals whatsoever, do you." It was a statement accompanied by an earnest stare right into my eyes, and I felt uneasy. "Are you working tomorrow?" he asked.

"Just in the morning."

"Come somewhere with me. Please. I'll meet you after your shift?"

"Er...ok, then." Where was all this going? I felt like I had stepped into some alternate universe where nothing made any sense. Had I really spent the night between the thighs of a girl who suspiciously resembled Miss Piggy? What was this mysterious place Robert was wanting to take me to? I started to worry. He ruffled my hair and stood up. "Gotta go" he said, smiling. My heart soared and I melted into the sofa, smiling back. I watched as he disappeared out the door, wondering where everyone was. I sneaked a look at the reception register and saw that there was no one in the private rooms that night either. Happy days, I thought, another snore-free night.

I wondered about the girl from the night before, who she was, where she was from. What did these people see in me? I've never considered myself a sex object and yet four people had wanted into my pants in the space of a few weeks. Why? I haven't been on the right side of a gym door for as long as I can remember. Wee Alex, they used to call me at school until I shot up by five inches in the year before my final exams, reaching the lofty height of 5"9. Wiry, my mother says. (She always knows how to compliment a guy.) Alone in the room, I stared at myself in the cracked mirror, wondering if I had just turned gorgeous overnight and not noticed. No, just the same. Mr Average, green eyes, black mop that needed cut. I pulled off my t-shirt and noticed scratch marks on my sides where my mystery shag had dug her nails in. Great. Suzanne was sure to see.

I went to bed early, in case any other randy women tried to take advantage of me.

Wherever it was Robert was taking me to, it was some walk. I was feeling quite mellow (after some more of Casim's excellent grass) and the cold air wasn't bothering me. I tagged along behind him, not feeling much like talking, just watching him striding along. People moved to avoid him, whereas I got jostled and stood on. There was something about him that made people notice him. I could imagine him as a priest, funny enough. He had an indefinable quality that gave him presence.

His arse looked so amazing in his jeans that I barely noticed where we were going.

We left the old city through the Zion gate and continued walking. He stopped several times to berate me about my slow pace, but I wasn't listening. The Mount of Olives was ahead, the garden of Gethsemane. How removed those places had seemed to me, long ago when I went to church. I felt excited that I was finally going to see something, although I was sure Robert had some kind of agenda. He always did. I knew him well enough to realise that nothing was ever superficial with him. He really thought about things, felt passionately about different issues, and I admired him for it.

Our destination turned out to be the Church of All Nations. A lofty building, impressive but not so old. I squinted up at the mural above the three huge archways at the entrance, trying to see what it was of and fleetingly wishing I had packed my glasses. I wondered out of all the historical places we could have gone, why Robert wanted to go here. It was dark inside, but as my eyes adjusted I could see that the walls were made out of mosaics of different flags. Ireland, China, France... they were all there. The atmosphere was hushed and peaceful, and at the front, illuminated by the glow of candles, was a great stone slab surrounded by a metal crown of thorns. Robert gestured for me to sit down on one of the upright wooden seats and he squeezed in beside me.

"That's the slab where Jesus prayed before the Passion" he whispered, pointing. I nodded, privately doubting the authenticity of the stone. My leg muscles were starting to twitch from all the walking. Craning my neck to look all around, I stifled a yawn. It was a beautiful church, all right. Having spent so much of my childhood in churches, I felt that I was conditioned to be bored. At least no minister was there, waffling on.

Robert nudged me. "Isn't this beautiful" he whispered. "I come here a lot. To think."

"What about?" I asked.

He shrugged. "God." he said finally, keeping his voice low. "Whether or not I'm going back to college. Tim. You."

I smiled. "You think about me?"

He turned to me with a look of mock-disgust ."I can't think why" he whispered, a big smile spreading across his face. "Imagine going to check into a hostel and finding a lazy hog sleeping at the reception desk who actually has the gall to laugh at my passport photo AND check me out at the same time. "

"That photo's no good" I said, shrugging. "You look much better in real life."

Some tourists were standing at the barrier, taking pictures on the stone slab. The flash danced before my eyes. I remembered the first day I saw Suzanne, how the sun had caught her glasses, how dazzled I was by her. I sighed.

Robert leaned forward, his hands clasped. "Do you believe in God?" he whispered.

I was embarrassed. "Not any more."

"Why did you stop believing?"

I thought about it. "Same reason I don't believe in Santa any more" I said, conscious that a priestly looking figure was walking past. "Be good, Santa will come. Be good, you go to heaven. It's a form of control." Only in our house, I added privately, there was no Santa. My parents believed he was evil, a pagan symbol of a festival that had lost all connection to Jesus. It was more like "Be good, or you will burn in hell. Suffer, and you will be rewarded." I had taken the last part a bit too literally. Not any more.

He looked at me, with a ghost of a smile. "You do think, then. You aren't as shallow as you seem."

"You think I'm shallow?"

"Come on man, you're in the Holy City and all you do is sit around getting stoned."

I shrugged. "I'd rather do that than go on some soul-seeking quest," I said. "There are no answers to those kind of things, the things you were talking about."

He smiled. "There are answers. You just aren't looking hard enough." Suddenly bored, I stood up. "I'm going outside for a smoke."

Sighing, he remarked "Yeah, run away from me again. You need to grow up, Alex. Avoiding everything is not a solution ."

Angrily, I thrust my hands into my pockets. I opened my mouth to speak but he got there before me. "Hide them" he said, looking at my wrists. "Or hide behind them. Whatever, man."

"Fuck off" I said, forgetting to keep my voice down. The priest and the tourists gave me dirty looks . "I'll be waiting outside when you've finished asking Santa for career guidance." I continued in an angry whisper. " And don't give me any lectures about running away. Seems you're doing plenty of it yourself."

Who did he think he was? I fumed to myself as I stood outside, fumbling in my pockets for my cigarettes. Why did my conversations with Robert always end up about me? He was such a manipulator. I could imagine him, all in black in some sheltered booth, wringing confessions out of people. Bastard.

Ten minutes passed, and three cigarettes. What was he doing in there? My anger was slipping away, and I was cold and bored. I went inside again to tell him I was leaving.

He was still sitting in the same seat, his head in his hands. "You're still here?" he said, and I could see he'd been crying.

I looked at him, torn between my irritation and an overwhelming urge to give him a hug. He looked pathetic all of a sudden, and I regretted my harshness. I sat down beside him and put my hand on his knee. "I'm sorry" I said. "Let's go."

He followed me outside. It was a welcome relief to hear the sounds of rush hour traffic after the awed silence of the church. "Are you OK?" I asked. He looked pretty down, and I felt guilty. "Not really." He smiled, and my stomach did its usual somersault. "Let's get a taxi."

That night, there was another party in our dorm. More nasty gin, more of the same. I declined the offer of more joints and drink. Jens sensed my mood and gave me the nod to grab my stuff and go and sleep in the unoccupied private room again. I suddenly needed to be sober, for a while at least. I lay on the bed in the silence, the noise of people chatting in the reception area seemed a million miles away. It was coming up to Christmas and they were taking bookings for a bus trip to Bethlehem on Christmas Eve. I had already paid. They said it was going to be a big party, since Bethlehem was being handed over to the Palestinian Authority, and they were even saying Yasser Arafat was going to make an appearance. I could hardly miss that. My mother would love the idea of Christmas in Bethlehem, although she would be horrified to learn that drinking was planned. I realised it had been months since I had contacted her. She would be sick with worry. Probably wondering if I'd finally succeeded in topping myself, when if I was honest with myself, the guilt I felt for what I'd put her through was so overwhelming that I couldn't bear to talk to her anymore.

There was a tap at the door. "Alex?" It was Robert. I thought about pretending not to be there but I realised I hadn't shut the door and he could see my feet. Sighing, I got up and flung the door open.

"Come in" I said sullenly, flopping down on the bed.

He clicked the door behind him and sat down. "I guess I owe you an apology" he said finally. "You were right to be mad. I shouldn't be prying into your business like that."

I felt wretched. "I've pried into yours often enough" I admitted, despite myself.

He lay down beside me, and was quiet. "I thought I had it all sorted" he said eventually, staring at the ceiling. "I was so sure God wanted me to be a priest. I was so sure! But...how can I be his servant if I'm an abomination?"

"You aren't an abomination."

"Homosexuality is an abomination."

I turned over, facing him. I forced him to look at me, my heart melting as I gazed into his eyes. "That's not the issue" I said, stroking his arm. " As a priest, you shouldn't be fucking anyone, men or women."

He laughed. "You put it so pleasantly" he said. "I guess what you're saying is, do I have what it takes to do the celibacy thing." I shifted so I was lying on my side, facing him. My hand, as if it had a life of its own, moved from his arm and slid under his sweater. The skin of his stomach was smooth and soft. "Yeah, that's what I'm saying" I muttered, as my cock began to stir. He looked at me, his eyes black in the semi-gloom of the small room. "And what are you, the serpent?"

I stifled a double entendre and sighed. I knew I shouldn't take advantage of him in his turmoil. I tried to withdraw my hand but he stopped me. "Don't" he whispered, catching my forearm, his dark eyes searching my face. "I think the answer to your question is 'no'". His breath was warm on my face as his lips found mine, and fully sober for the first time I found the sensation incredibly erotic, the feeling of his stubble contrasting with the softness of his mouth. Our tongues met and for minutes, we kissed, long, hot and slow. I rolled on top of him, breathing heavily. "Is this what you really want" I whispered, but the answer was in his trousers, hot and hard. He replied by pushing my sweater up and over my shoulders and I did the same for him, lying back down and relishing the warmth of his skin against mine. I kissed him again, the hunger starting in my belly, in my groin. His fingers were fumbling at my flies and I rolled off him to give him better access. He forcefully yanked off my jeans and pants and stared at me for a second. "You're beautiful" he said softly, stroking my face. "Flattery will get you everywhere" I replied, grinning, following suit and soon we were both starkers, lying side by side on the bed.

Now I had him where I wanted him, I was in no hurry to get things underway. I wanted to explore his body completely, to possess him entirely. It was my first time with a man and I was determined to get it right. Women's bodies were still a mystery, although I was learning about them ...this body was not. I thought if I did to him all the things I wanted him to do to me, it would be fine. Grabbing his wrists, I splayed his arms out above his head and feasted on his mouth again for a second before heading down to his pits. I loved the smell of him, the feel of the soft hair on my face. I breathed it in, that amazing musky smell, and began to lick him there, tentatively at first, but as his breathing quickened, I felt encouraged and moved on to his nipples. They were hard and I tugged and sucked on one, then the other. He sighed and his back arched slightly: I released his wrists as I concentrated on my task. His hands settled on the back of my head and I felt him push me gently down. I obediently followed the trail south. His cock was lying flat on his stomach, pointing at his navel, springing up from a dark froth of pubes. Gingerly I lifted it into my mouth, worried about how it would taste, but it was amazing. Velvet soft skin, yet hard as steel. I swallowed it as much as I could without gagging, and he let out a small gasp. His fingers raked through my hair as he squirmed beneath me. I released his cock and took his balls gently in my hand, inhaling the smell of sweat and soap as I began to bathe the crinkly skin with my tongue, sucking one into my mouth, then the other. His legs parted and I slid my hand up between his arse cheeks, my other hand massaging his cock. My finger found his hole and I pushed it inside. His cock jumped a little and he gasped again, louder this time. Thank you, Suzanne, I thought as I wiggled my finger around inside him, taking his cock into my mouth again. I was terribly ignorant of my own anatomy and I didn't really know what I was doing but I found that secret spot inside him and he grunted in pleasure. I worked another finger inside him, loving the way his cock twitched in my mouth as he squirmed, holding his breath, trying to be quiet and succeeding much more than I had under Suzanne's ministrations.

I slid my fingers in and out of his arse, watching the look of ecstasy on his face as he spread his legs wider and wider, licking and sucking his cock like it was my favourite lollipop and thinking god, I really am not bad at this. He opened his eyes and pulled my face up to his. He devoured my mouth as our cocks rubbed against each other, his legs wrapped around me. We lay like that for minutes, grinding against each other until he pushed me away, gasping urgently "Have you got a rubber?"

I rolled off, fishing in my toiletry bag, knocking my stuff allo over the floor, my habds were shaking so much. I found what I was looking for, gratefully waving the condom in his face. "But of course, monsieur" I laughed. "Some coq au vin for your main course?"

He groaned. "You aren't funny" he said, pushing me onto my back as he reached over and rummaged in my bag fishing out a tub of Vaseline. He saw my look of puzzlement. "Virgins..." He rolled his eyes and smiled. "My turn" he whispered and kissed me again. He worked the condom over my cock as it throbbed almost painfully. I lay there, breathless with anticipation as he dipped his fingers into the Vaseline and went to work on his arse as I watched, trying to pick up tips for next time. "Right" he said when he had finished. "Come here."

We continued where we had left off, he pulled me on top of him and filled my mouth with his tongue. His legs opened and I slid down between his thighs again, my cock bulging in the rubber as it approached its destination. He wiggled a bit and pushing his legs up as far as they would go, I was almost dizzy as I placed the tip of my cock against his hole and began to push it in. It slipped in easily, thanks to the Vaseline I guessed, although I imagined this was not his first time. God, it was so hot and tight, I went in slowly, savouring every second as he swallowed me up, watching as his eyes closed slowly and a ghost of a smile flitted across his face.

I placed my hands on either side of his torso, leaning forward so my forehead rested against his, sweating. I thought I was going to shoot my load there and then, such were the feelings shooting through me, my burning cock planted deep inside that hot tunnel. Closing my eyes, I tried to think of something boring so I wouldn't disgrace myself. Images of middle aged women sitting in our living room examining Tupperware containers sprang to mind: my mother's church friends having a Tupperware party. How many times I'd had to endure the "oh look at wee Alex! Aren't you a big boy now!" pinchy-cheeky routine. That did the trick. I began to move inside him, out, in, out, in, slowly at first and then building up a rhythm. As my thrusts became harder, Robert reached his arms up and braced himself against the wall, his breath coming in harsh gasps. His cock was swollen and red but he didn't touch it. Looking down at it nearly sent me over the edge again. Tupperware, Tupperware I thought again but the demands of my body took over and I speeded up, thrusting harder, faster, trying to change the angle a little so I could get in deeper. Suddenly his eyes flew open, he arched his back and cum started shooting out of his dick, ropey white threads slash-painting his stomach as he stuffed a hand inside his mouth, trying to be quiet. In the midst of my red lust I was surprised he had come without touching himself.As his spunk pumped out in lessening bursts, his arse muscled clamped round my cock and my brain switched off again. I pumped frantically for a few seconds as my balls tightened and I felt myself deliciously poised on the edge...I cried out as my cock spasmed inside him, my body frozen like a statue then shaking as I shot my load into the condom. I collapsed on top of him, chest heaving: my cock slipped out of his arse and he enveloped me in his arms, kissing my forehead. I yanked the condom off and chucked it on the floor, gasping. I felt as if I I was truly alive for the first time. It took a few seconds for me to take in what had just happened, that I 'd had the most amazing sex ever. Because I loved him, I knew suddenly, I loved him with all my heart. I raised my head, about to tell him so when I noticed a tear gathering at the corner of his eye. Alarmed, I raised a weary hand and stroked his cheek tenderly.

"What's wrong?" I asked, suddenly fearful. "Did I hurt you? Did you...think it was crap?"

"Not crap" he whispered, but the tears continued, so I lay there, bewildered and exhausted as his chest hitched beneath me, then quieted, until the inevitable happened and I fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up, that feeling of being watched again. Robert was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, staring at me. I smiled and stretched, my body glowing. "Morning" I said. "You OK?" His expression was unreadable, so intense and distant, and I was faintly worried. He was going to weird out on me, I knew it. "What?" I repeated, shivering suddenly.

He looked down at my outstretched right arm and traced my scar lightly with his fingertip. "This one's worse."

I looked. "Yeah, I'm left handed."

"Must have hurt to do the other one."

"I was so drunk I barely felt it."

There was a silence. I looked into his beautiful dark eyes and knew that if he asked me, there, at that moment, I would tell him everything.

"I have to go out" he said, starting to pull on his clothes. "I'll see you later."

I cleared my throat nervously. "Why were you so upset last night?" I asked the question, but I was dreading the answer. But he just smiled and tapped the side of his nose. "You have your secrets, I have mine." He winked. "See you later."

And out he walked, out of the door and out of my life.

I had to go out myself, to do the infernal laundry. It was raining and I had no umbrella. Walking down the slippery streets, I was lost in thought. I felt elated, yet puzzled. I longed to talk to Robert, to find out what was in his mind. I deposited my clothes and thought about going to look for him in the Church of All Nations again, but I couldn't be bothered to walk so I went back to the hostel to wait for him. They were playing Life of Brian, one of my favourite films, thought it felt eternally long as I glanced at my watch time after time. When it was over, I went into my dorm. Ben and Rhianna were there, looking at some photographs. They motioned for me to join them and I politely looked at each photo, nodding in all the right places, although my mind was a million miles away.

Ben reached under his bed and fished out another bottle of the nasty gin. "Want some mate?" he said, winking. "You look like you could do with it!"

Why not, I thought, looking around for my plastic cup. I blew the dust out of it and cleaned it with my finger. "Fill her up." Rhianna lit up a cigarette. "Suzanne should be back tonight" she said, looking at her watch. I was suddenly excited, and yet kind of dismayed.The strange things Robert had said still left me uneasy, as things had been left in limbo. Incomplete. I remembered how he couldn't wait to get out of the door and I wondered dismally how things could have been so fantastic and then so shit in the space of twelve hours.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the moment. Robert would be back soon, we'd talk and everything would be sorted out. I flung back the gin, almost retching as it scorched my oesophagus. They were funny people, especially Ben, and I was soon laughing and reasonably merry. Ben was telling a story about a psycho Jordanian waiter when Jens poked his head round the door. "Alex?"

I stood up, stiffly. He led me into the kitchen where no one ever cooked, it was so grotty. "I have this for you." He handed me an envelope with my name printed on the front in neat capitals. I began to get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Where is he" I asked dully.

"Checked out, man. He's gone. Didn't say where he was going to."

"Why didn't you..." Come and get me, I was going to finish, but I couldn't bear for Jens to start taking the piss.

He cut me off. "He told me not to." Jens was surprisingly serious. "I'm sorry, man." Slapping me on the back, he wandered back to his desk.

I stood there like a dummy, turning the envelope over and over in my hand. I wanted to remember things as they were just at that moment, to take a photo with my mind, the hope I felt, the happiness, the nervousness and the anxiety. I knew once I opened the envelope, things would be different and there would be no going back. I already knew what I was going to read, felt it in my belly and my balls, like a lead weight.

Robert was gone. He had left me.

My hands shaking, I made my way to the toilets and locked myself into a cubicle. I sat down, breathing deeply. My hands shook as I carefully opened the letter and started to read.

"Alex" it began. "I don't know where to start to stop you feeling bad about this, so I guess I'll start with the truth.

Tim and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember, becoming lovers only a few months before he tried to kill himself. Once we realised what was happening between us, we talked about it endlessly, about how we were committing a terrible sin but we couldn't stop, at least I couldn't. I loved him so much. I guess he couldn't bear to leave me so he stopped it by stuffing his stomach full of pills and telling everything to his parents in a letter . Thank God he was spared, but when he had recovered he called me and told me he never wanted to see me again, how it was all my fault for leading him astray and destroying his faith. My own faith had started to slip too, I was left wondering why God had done this to me, why he had made me like this. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. I knew what that really meant, as my life was unravelling before my eyes.

I came to Jerusalem to find God, but instead I went completely off the rails. You saw how many times I came back drunk. I was up in the New City, wandering from bar to bar, trying to get the courage to go to that park, you know, where all the gays go at night. I figured if I could make it seem sordid and disgusting that I would find the strength to turn my back on it. I never made it to the park, thankfully. And then there was you.

After getting to know you, it was like a ray of sunshine had come into my life, at my darkest moment. It was after that first night I kissed you that I knew I would never become a priest. You were right when you asked if all I needed was the strength to commit myself to celibacy. I don't have that strength, purely because loving Tim, and you, has shown me how beautiful it can be, and I can't make myself believe it is wrong. I ran away from Tim and I found you instead. I think if God is sending me any kind of message, then this is it. But we're different you and I. You aren't like me.You have Suzanne. You don't feel the same way about me, you never can. That's why I can't allow this to go any further, but I want you to know that as long as I live, I will never forget you .As I'm writing this, I can hear Ben laughing down in your dorm and I know you're in there, probably drinking and having a laugh. I am longing to go down and say goodbye, but I know the minute I step into the room, I'll see you and crumble. My heart will start pounding and I'll never be able to go. I need to rebuild some bridges, with my family, with Tim. My mother says he's fine, he's teaching ceramics at the local college. He always was good with his hands (don't laugh.) So don't feel down, say hi to Suzanne for me and I hope you guys can be happy. Take care, Robert xx."

I leaned my forehead against the cool metal door, closing my eyes. I sat there for what seemed to be an eternity, not moving a muscle, afraid I would cry, or scream. No, no, no. I banged my forehead gently against the door in time to the repetition of the word, trying not to think of him, last night, anything.

There was no address, or contact number.

I would never see him again.

It was a while before I realised dimly that someone was calling my name, several people actually. I was still sitting in the cramped toilet cubicle, forehead against the door, the letter clutched in my hand.

"Alex!" two voices called simultaneously. I was startled and stood up, rapidly stuffing the letter into my pocket.

It was Jens and Suzanne. "Alex?" she called. "You've been in there over an hour, are you all right?"

"Alex, man, you'd better not be doing anything stupid in there." Jens was starting to pound his fist against the door. Irritably I pulled back the lock and walked out. "Can't a man have a crap in peace?" I said, trying to sound casual, as Suzanne flung her arms round me. Jens looked sheepish and muttered something about a card game on the roof.

"You are a sight for sore eyes" I said, burying my face in her hair, inhaling the apple aroma of her shampoo.

"Jens told me Robert left" she whispered.

I looked into her eyes. "I'm OK" I lied, my voice soothing. "That's how things are. People move on. I know that." I pulled a strand of hair out of her mouth and tucked it behind her ear, trying to smile. "I missed you" she said, kissing my cheek. "I won't move on. Not without you."

I smiled. "Show me your sketches from Jordan" I said, and followed her out into the teeming reception area hoping no one would notice that my heart was breaking.

Jerusalem wasn't the same any more after Robert left. Days went by, and I was starting to feel déjà vu. I was bored of working, I was starting to crave some privacy. Things like that I hadn't missed at first. I couldn't sit at the Western Wall any more without remembering the times Robert and I had gone there together. Everywhere I went I saw him, or ghosts of him. I took to sitting in the Church of all Nations, in the same seat he had used. I thought about god for the first time in ages, but try as I might I couldn't feel anything in that church except emptiness and a terrible sense of loss.

Rebuilding bridges, he had said. I knew I needed to do some of that myself and finally called my mother. She was overjoyed to hear from me and begged me to come home. "Maybe soon" I said, and I meant it. When Suzanne finally said she was ready to leave, her portfolio bulging with incredible paintings and sketches, I didn't argue.

We bought a bus ticket to Eilat. I still had a decent amount of money left and I felt like a holiday. From Eilat we crossed the border into Sinai and shared a taxi to Dahab, a sleepy little backpackers' resort. I barely spoke for the whole journey there. Saying goodbye to Jerusalem was the hardest thing, I began to understand how Robert felt, needing to leave and yet not wanting to go. For the first few days in Dahab, we lay together on the colourful cushions of the outdoor restaurants that fringe the Red Sea, ordering coffees and banana pancakes in the winter sunshine, neither of us regretting too much the fact that we were going to miss Yasser Arafat in Bethlehem. After all, I had spent months in Jerusalem and hadn't managed to visit the Mount of Olives. Bethlehem would always be there. Good reasons to return.

"There'll always be a next time" Suzanne said, sketching the pink-tinged mountains of Saudi Arabia as I tried to slurp a coke lying on my back, my head in her lap. "Mind my skirt."

"Will you come home with me?" I asked suddenly, surprised at my own boldness. "I need to...get stuff sorted out." Rebuild some bridges. Robert was always much more eloquent than me, I thought ruefully.

She kissed me on the forehead and smiled. "I've always wanted to visit the north" she said happily. Was I was seriously contemplating bringing a catholic girl home to my parents? Oh yes indeed. Well, it was better than a catholic man, I reasoned, laughing to myself, barely able to imagine the ruckus that would cause...Maybe they would try another exorcism. Their only son, beguiled by a catholic devil.They were nuts, but they were the only parents I had. I would have to accept them and stop hoping they would change.

They would just have to accept Suzanne, to accept me and the way things were.

I had a feeling they would, this time.