Here is the final installment. I want to express my deepest thanks to everyone that's written and stuck with the story over this long, long time. Your assurances that the story wasn't a complete failure were invaluable and inspiring. And a big cheerful thank you to my proofreaders Michael and Alex, I couldn't have done it without you.
Gratefully, Stefan
The Knife That Twists Within Part 20
by Stefan
While he brewing himself Turkish coffee, Nicholas decided he was mad to think of Sebastian in any way other than as a friend or as Kay's lover. Yes, visiting the flat would likely stir memories. Memories of a single night of passion as opposed to Marcus' cold and calculating "deal". But his thinking, his consideration of the future had to center on Marcus and not Sebastian. That resolved in his mind, Nicholas admitted to himself that Sebastian's offer provided the opportunity to resume a lifestyle he'd gotten used to - at least for a little while.
Later, Nicholas slipped into his jacket and boots and looked out the window. Still it drizzled outside, the gray sky suggesting that the day would get no brighter. Opening the door he nearly bumped into Tina.
"Tina!" he exclaimed, amazed to discover Matthias behind her.
"We were just about to ring," she grinned. Nick, at a loss for words, stared at the smiling Matthias.
"Well," his friend began, "if you won't come to me, it seems I'll have to come to you. What's up with you and Marcus?" He looked him up and down. "Were you about to go out?"
Nicholas nodded. "Yes. I have to go to Sebastian's flat." His face brightened. "Hey, why don't you come with me? You have the car with you?"
"Yes."
"But why don't you come in first? Sebastian's flat can wait."
Tina and Matthias followed him inside. "So tell me, where have you been all this time, we thought you'd forgotten about us." Matthias put on a sulking face for effect. "I looked up Marcus' telephone number and called him. He said you were probably here. What's happened?"
Nicholas stood dumb. Of course! Matthias hadn't any clue about what had happened. Nothing about the London trip, the screen, George, Rome nor Sebastian.
"Coffee?" he asked to gain time.
"Yes, please."
Tina put the water on to boil, opened the shelves to pull out big cups. She watched Nick from the corner of her eye, noticing that he was unshaven and tired looking. It gave him a more mature appearance. The look in his eyes was different, dulled maybe, as if he'd lost some of his innocence or openness. She felt certain that something happened.
"What went wrong with Marcus," she asked softly, "won't you tell us?"
Truthfully, Nicholas was tired of talking and thinking about it. He watched Tina pour the boiling water over the coffee and stir it. He met Matthias' grey blue, searching eyes and shook his head almost imperceptibly.
"What did Marcus say, exactly?"
"Nothing more than that you were probably at your flat. He sounded depressed. Have you argued?" He placed his hand on Nick's arm. "Has he left you? Please say no."
Nicholas went over to help Tina with the cups. "I'm not sure, Matthias. A lot has happened."
"Your mother enjoyed the new clothes?" Tina threw in. The clothes, yes. Nick remembered. How many days had passed since Tina and Matthias had gone shopping with him?
"Mother yes. But father... he doesn't want presents from a queer." Nicholas too a deep breath. "You remember Marcus was in London to buy a screen..." His voice trailed off. He hadn't the energy to tell the story. He was unhappy. He was...
"You don't have to tell us if you don't want, Nick." Tina looked at him with pity. "I only hope that it will work out."
Nicholas shrugged his shoulders and drank the hot coffee. "I got a parcel from Sebastian with his keys. He asked me to have a look at his flat. You know he's in Rome with Kay."
Matthias sighed. "I see. If you want to go, we're ready."
Nick was very thankful that Matthias and Tina didn't insist on him telling the whole story, and he remained taciturn while they drove to Sebastian's flat. He was pleased to find six story light brown building set amidst tall pines in a very quiet surrounding. Sebastian's flat was on the top floor.
"Looks very nice," Matthias said.
"Indeed. Sebastian offered to let me stay here."
Tina looked surprised. "Why?"
"He works in Rome and Kay will stay with him there. You've never met them, right?" Tina shook her head.
"An entire floor only for him?" wondered Matthias as they stepped inside. "Why does he need such a big flat when he lives in Rome?"
Nick shrugged. "Rich people."
"You too belong to the rich people now, eh?" Matthias teased, "Or is the money already spent?"
Nicholas slapped him in the rips playfully. "No, not spent. Saved for times like these."
Surprisingly, Sebastian's flat was simply furnished. Function and comfort over glitz or style. Nicholas had expected something more grandiose considering the house in Rome. The trio moved from the hall to a large American-style room - kitchen at one end, dining area combined with a large living room. Beyond that was a broad terrace with an exceptional view. The only doors led to the bedroom, bathroom and closet.
"It's nice looking." Tina said. "Wished we had such a flat."
"What are you supposed to do here, actually? I don't see any plants, fishes, or pets."
"Empty the fridge; he forgot. Perhaps I should stay here. I like it." Nicholas went over to a small sideboard were his eye had caught a framed picture.
"This is Sebastian?" Tina asked, stepping up behind him. The photo was of Sebastian and Marcus in their younger years. Marcus sat in the foreground with Sebastian squatting behind, embracing him. They were laughing, happy.
"Beautiful men," Tina sighed. "They make a hot pair. Wait, they once were a pair, right?"
"Yes." Nick's eyes pricked suddenly. Perhaps they never should have split.
"Has Marcus gone back to him?" Matthias asked from at his other. "It can't be; you said Sebastian was with Kay."
"Yes, he's with Kay." Nicholas whispered. Tina and Matthias exchanged a glance behind his back.
"Hey, you haven't fallen in love with Sebastian, have you?" Matthias pressed Nick's shoulder trying to see his face.
"Marcus was in London and it just happened." Nicholas continued to whisper.
"Gosh," Matthias gasped. "That's the problem then? Marcus knows about it."
Nick regretted that he had let it slip. Nobody from outside would be able to understand what happened or why. Trying to explain would only sound worse. "It's my business, Matthias. You can't help me. And this is only a fraction of the story. You wouldn't believe it if you heard the whole thing."
Tina's gaze remained fixed on the good looking man with the bright grey-green eyes and the ravishing smile. Certainly she could understand Nick. Of course she could. It wasn't hard to fall in love with men like these. She looked to Matthias who still clasped Nick's shoulder and then laid her hand on the opposite one. "It's ok, Nick," she said. "Tell us if you want and if not, that's ok too. If you need help, you know where we are." She smiled at Matthias and he smiled back.
"Can we drive you home or do you want to empty the secrets of the fridge alone?"
Nicholas had to laugh. It was a strange, suppressed sound. "It would be nice if you could help me carry a few things back here. Would you do me that favour?"
"Of course."
It didn't take long for Nick to pack his bags, painting utensils, books and some groceries. He wanted to be rid off his shabby flat and be someplace he could breathe freely.
"You're sure about being left alone? Give us the phone number, please," Matthias requested.
Nicholas scribbled it on a scrap of paper, gave it Matthias and gave them both a thankful look. Tina gave him a kiss on this cheek and they waved from outside at Nick standing on the terrace. He was happy to have such good friends and the thought of it eased the pain inside him somewhat.
After the perfunctory tour, Nick now inspected the rooms with more care, touching the furniture, opening cupboards, the bathroom and finally the bedroom. This seemed to be the only room Sebastian valued, because the bed was large and covered with a plush dark green bedspread and several fluffy pillows.
A poster covered one wall - the life-sized image of a naked man, back turned to show firm, beautiful buttocks. "Looks like Marcus," Nick mumbled, wondering how many nights Sebastian had jerked off while staring at those arse cheeks. The thought made him laugh - as if Sebastian needed to masturbate - certainly there was always a hot guy around to do it for him. And Kay - surely he had slept here together with him.
Nick sat cautiously upon the comforter. The bed was soft but not too soft - he supposed he might sleep here as if he were in 7th heaven.
Then he jumped up and opened Sebastian's closet. Amid the coats, shirts pullovers, and boots lying in the corner, Nick caught sight of motorbike gear. Could it be Kay's? While considering it, he stroked the emerald green sleeve of a pullover hanging there. Finally pulling it down, he ripped off his own sweatshirt and slipped into Sebastian's, breathing the familiar scent deeply.
So comforted, he trotted into the kitchen and opened the fridge expecting stinking vegetables. Instead, he found old eggs, moldy cheese and spoiled milk. These he tossed into a plastic bag, and left the flat for the dumpster.
Heaven hadn't cleared up and the treetops were still veiled in a slight haze. He shivered despite the woolen pullover, so he ran upstairs again, ignoring the lift. In the flat again he turned on the heat and the TV but soon got bored. If Marcus wanted to reach him, it was now impossible. It would be up to him to contact Marcus. Again his eyes met the photo on the sideboard. 'A very hot pair.' He remembered Tina's words and he conceded that she was right. He remembered the laughing, kisses, touches, climaxes - with both men.
Sighing, he sauntered through the room and opened the storage closet door beside the bath. It was larger than he would have supposed, containing suitcases, a vacuum, boxes, buckets, a ladders... and an easel.
Nicholas pulled it out wiping away the dust with his fingers, his heart pounding. Sebastian had said he couldn't paint, so this had to belong to Marcus.
He dragged the easel into an open area between the living area and the kitchen, where he finished dusting it off. Then he shook out his bags, taking the big pad of paper and setting it on the stand. Opening the box of Conte-chalk he began to draw without thinking.
All the hours by day and night he'd spent studying Marcus' body came back to him, helping him to draw without his subject present. He remembered the body parts, the swelling of the muscles, the soft sweep of his hips where they passed over into his muscular legs and protruding buttocks - the dark shade of his pubic hair, the line of his erect cock, the shimmering head, the roundness of his balls. Then he began a second body - same height - in a close, intense embrace, their erect cocks pressed together, rubbing and exchanging fluids, tongues entwined.
He painted with the crayon in Sepia colour and highlighted it finally with red and white. White, were the light fell upon a naked shoulder or a bare buttock. The effect was as if the skin gleamed like polished bronze and it reminded Nicholas of the nights he had spent with Marcus while the light flooded through the open window, the moonbeams dying on Marcus' velvet skin.
Again Nick was absorbed in the fever of painting, sensing nothing. He'd tossed Sebastian's pullover aside long ago, wiping his crayon soiled fingers against his bare, sweating chest. At one point, thirst drove him to the fridge where he'd remembered seeing a bottle of wine. He poured a water glass full. It tasted marvelous.
As he had emptied the glass, he stood before the easel and tried to look at the work as objectively as possible. He found it was breathtaking.
Nicholas noticed that it had grown dark and he was again thirsty as well as hungry. Quickly he made a sandwich and poured more wine, continuing to study the picture while he ate. Suddenly he felt very tired, and glancing at the kitchen clock he saw that it was after 2.
He took a quick shower to rinse away the chalks and used one of the towels hanging nearby. Naturally, it carried Sebastian's scent. Then he slipped naked beneath the sheets, turning on the little TV opposite the bed. The soft babbling of the sports channel guided him into sleep. But it was not long before he awoke again, staring at the bare arse cheeks of the man on the wall.
He longed for Marcus' presence so much that it hurt. What was Marcus doing? Lying awake as he was? Thinking about him? If so, what was he thinking? Had he tried to call?
Nicholas tossed back the cover and reached for the phone beside the bed. Slowly he dialed Marcus' number and listening as it rang through. Then he heard Marcus' very clear voice and it startled him into replacing the receiver as if his fingers had been burnt. So Marcus was awake, probably not able to sleep either.
Nick turned off the TV and slipped into his jeans. Then he began a restless walk around the flat, talking to himself. Eventually he carried the easel into the bedroom and sat in an easy chair by the window looking at it. The more he stared, his eyes glazing, the more he could see the painted bodies moving, breathing, heaving, pushing, tasting and finally exploding... Unconsciously his hand moved inside his jeans to stroke his erection.
Marcus... his beloved, dark-haired Marcus, his one and only lover...
Nicholas pulled out his hand away suddenly, though his penis protested. What was he doing? He didn't have to jerk off to a picture of Marcus. He could go and call him! In less than an hour Marcus could be here and everything in the painting could be true again ...
Perhaps.
Nicholas' cock still screamed for attention. Slowly he allowed his hand to slip back into his jeans where he rubbed the hot, hard, moist flesh while gazing at the men before him so absorbed in each other.
Damn think! Think! Who do you think of when you jerk off? Which man? Marcus or Sebastian?
Rain drops spattered against the window and with a suppressed cry, he came into his hand. Licking the white liquid from his fingers and palm, the answer was clear.
Marcus.
He wanted him with every fibre of his body. He would forgive him everything - nothing could destroy these strong feelings for him. He jumped up, reached for the phone. This time Marcus picked up on the first ring.
"It's me," Nick told him in a near whisper. Marcus said nothing. "How are you?" Nicholas continued.
"Ok. And you? What are you doing?"
"I've painted."
"Really? A portrait of Sebastian?" This response was a cold shower for Nicholas. A very cold shower.
"You can't forgive me?"
Marcus didn't respond.
"Say something, Marcus. You are not the only one who is hurt."
Marcus cleared his throat. "True. Let us have a bit time please. A few days, okay?"
Nicholas replaced the receiver hanging his head in sorrow.
Marcus' hand still held the receiver. Just hearing Nick's voice had made him tremble. Tremble with disappointment, tremble with desire. If Sebastian had told him he had slept with his Nick, Marcus would had refused to believe it. But Nick had admitted it and so it had to be true.
He wasn't sure what hurt more: to find that Nick, like Simon, had gone searching for entertainment as soon as Marcus was away, or the deep love that he still felt for the boy in spite of it.
Marcus noticed that he had used the word entertainment. But Nick had not cheated for 'entertainment'. Thinking of their first night together... Nick had been so scared. So full of sorrow. But he had ultimately trusted. And being united with that sweet young man was more than Marcus ever had dreamt of. Perhaps he hadn't shown him how much he loved him, how much he cared about him ... And Sebastian, that bastard, had taken full advantage of the situation. But wait. Nick had said it wasn't Sebastian's fault.
Jesus! If he only knew what to do. Yet another night without sleep was making it difficult to think clearly. His eyes fell on Nicholas' copy of Burne-Jones' "Atlas" with the long, dangling cock between his legs - a nice alteration to the tiny original. Marcus regretted having no photo of Nicholas, no drawing - nothing and yet he felt he might be able to paint his face and body out of memory - the open violet-blue eyes, the delicate skin over his high cheekbones, the tiny freckles upon the bridge of his nose and the full, soft lips who's kiss was so heavenly - certainly Sebastian would agree. About that and how pleasurable his body was and how devotedly ...
Marcus shook his head: You are thinking with your cock, idiot! It wasn't just about a bed mate. That he could easily replace. He wanted the full man, brain and spirit with all his flaws. With all his perfection.
Slowly he removed his hand from the receiver and went upstairs to the bedroom. Time to stop this restless wandering and aimless thinking. In the bathroom he looked into the mirror at his hollow and dry eyes.
"You are looking like shit," he muttered to himself. He ruffled his hair until it stood on end and wiped over his dark stubled chin. If Nick would see him, he would be repulsed. What's happened to you, Marcus Weidenbruch? Shaking his head he left the bathroom, his eyes falling on Sebastian's portrait.
Marcus examined the strong nose, the sharply outlined lips that played with a slight, wistful smile. Sebastian was looking into the distance, all his cockiness gone. Marcus knew very well that Sebastian had been searching his whole life for pleasure and perhaps for a man he could settle down with. It was quite possible that he and Nicholas had sought out each other only for consolation. Hadn't Sebastian always been there for Nick? Whenever Alex had attacked? While Marcus was busy with other things, Sebastian had pushed Nick from the car's path, taken him to the hospital, prevented the exhibition hall from burning, even asked him to Rome. And what had he done?
Suddenly, Marcus ran downstairs and grabbed the phone with shaking hands, dialing Sebastian in Rome. He waiting through several rings before a very sleepy Kay answered.
"Kay?" Marcus asked, "Still sleeping?"
Kay sat up with a jolt. "Marcus?" He looked at the digital clock at the nightstand. "It's only 7 am! What do you expect?" He blinked and wiped his disheveled hair. Looking at Sebastian, curled up like a baby at his side, he spoke softly, "What's up? Where are you? Have you spoken to Nick?"
"A lot of questions for this early hour, Kay. Yes, I just now spoke to Nick, but only very briefly." Marcus didn't know what to say exactly because he wasn't sure what Sebastian had told Kay.
"May I speak to Sebastian?" Again Kay threw a glance to Sebastian's peaceful face and the man began to stir.
"He's just waking. Give him a few seconds."
Kay bent down, pushing sandy strands of hair from Sebastian's face, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Hey, sleepy head, Marcus is the phone."
Sebastian growled something unintelligible before opening his eyes. "Marcus?" he mumbled reaching for the phone.
"Yeah? What time is it?"
Marcus ignored the question. "What did you tell Kay? Did you tell him the truth?"
Suddenly Sebastian was very awake. "What? The truth about George? Yes, why?"
"That's not what I'm talking about, Bastian. I know the whole truth. Nick told me everything."
Sebastian fumbled with the receiver and sat up. He glimpsed at Kay now reclining again with his eyes closed.
"What did he say?"
"Why, Sebastian? I only want to know why." Marcus voice was calmed by his exhaustion, but Sebastian's heart pounded as he considered his answer.
"Things happen. I'm sorry about it though." Again he looked at Kay and slipped noiselessly out of bed and the bedroom.
"You are sorry?" Marcus' reply was sharp.
"Listen to me, Marcus. I have no excuse for what we did. I don't know how Nick explained it, but all I can say is ... you know I've always liked him ... he's so sweet. And he was so lonely. We drove to the sea and it was... he was despairing, Marcus. He thought you had betrayed him, left him forever. We didn't know what had happened in London. Try and see it from his point of view!" Sebastian had arrived on ground floor where he stood gesticulating in the nude. "I know he loves you. It happened only out of forlornness... can't you understand?" Sebastian listened to the silence in the receiver. "Marcus?"
"Yeah, still here." He took a deep breath. "I can understand. I've thought a lot over the last few days. It's just ... It hurts."
Sebastian looked into the large mirror and saw that his face had contracted to a painful grimace. Yes, it hurt. He knew. "Will you tell Kay?"
"Me? I think that's your job!"
Sebastian sighed. "What I want to know is, should I? I mean the story is over, so..."
"I have no clue, Bastian. Figure it out for yourself. You have put us all into the dog's breakfast."
"Me?" Sebastian protested. "Certainly it was YOU! You were always chasing useless things forgetting about all the people that love you. I've forgotten why ANYBODY should love you, actually. You are always absent! Now, go and tell Nick what you did and try to patch up what can be patched up. But remember the broken vase - it will always break in the same place."
With this he put down the receiver, stumbling over the wire from upstairs and stubbing his big toe on the sideboard. He jumped around in pain and cursed loudly. This was all a shit!
He regretted his harsh words, but somebody had to set Marcus straight. >From the bedroom he heard Kay shouting, asking what was happening. Kay! Yes he had to figure it out - should he tell him or not? He was sure that neither Marcus nor Nick would let out any words concerning this but could he live with it himself? What would it be like to have Kay pack his suitcase again, forever? Sebastian was sure he couldn't stand it.
As he entered the bedroom Kay beamed at him. "You're looking good this morning," he cheered. "Come here to me."
Sebastian thought perhaps Kay was in need of glasses if he thought this was looking good. Surely he looked dismayed as well as disheveled. Certainly not "good". But he crept into bed again, rolling Kay onto his back, kissing his neck. Kay began to purr.
"Have you ever betrayed any of your lovers?" Sebastian asked.
"Huh?" Kay wriggled, trying to look into Sebastian's eyes.
"What brings this up all the sudden? Marcus?"
"Have you?"
"I guess so, yes."
"And?"
"What do you want to hear?" Kay asked. "It was a long time ago. You know there's always a hot guy around the next corner."
Sebastian stopped his kissing and opened his eyes. "A hot guy around the corner? And you complained about Andrea! So you would leave me for a hot guy?"
"Of course not." Kay pushed Sebastian away softly. "What's the reason for this? I'm talking of negligible fucks. I've never had a serious relationship. You could be the first."
Sebastian smiled but asked with uncertainty, "I could be?"
"Yes, you twit." Kay laughed and pulled Sebastian's lips to his own. "You are."
Sebastian knew he never could tell him about Nick.
Because all I ever wanted -------------------------
"Already here or are you still here from the yesterday evening?" Marcus smiled at Johannes who was sitting on his stool bent over a small wood frame whose bronze paint needed cleaning. He looked up.
"Back again, Marcus. I'm an early riser, as you know." The attentive pale eyes behind the glasses examined Marcus and found him in the same bad condition as before.
Marcus met his questioning eyes. "Nick was in Rome, Johannes, as you supposed."
"Yes? And?"
"Nothing more. We flew back together but ... he's at his flat now. I have no clue how it will continue."
Johannes grimaced and shook his head. "What shall I say to this? It's not my business. But if I were you, I would go to him instantly."
"Yes, you are right, it's not your business." Marcus said sharply. "Sorry for that. I'm confused and I'm tired. I need sleep, I guess, but the exhibition has to come first."
"Apropos. There were some calls from the buyer of Nick's portraits. You remember Mrs. Schneider, the fidgety woman with the oppressive perfume? She bought the paintings of a young man with bleached hair."
"Kay, yes. What did she want?"
"She wants to engage him as portrait painter for her family."
"Indeed? That's marvelous! I must tell him instantly. Oh ..." Marcus turned his back to Johannes. "Could you do it for me please? Don't want to speak to him right now."
Again Johannes shook his head but said, "As you like."
Marcus could feel the disapproval of the old man but there was nothing what he could do about it right now. Instead, he said, "All the invitations have been delivered? The press informed? Catering service called?"
"All done."
"Good. Good job." He looked into Johannes eyes. "Heard from Alex?"
"No. Is there a problem?"
Marcus shook his head. "Nothing important. I just thought you might need a hand,an assistant."
Johannes looked amazed. "Someone to help me? All of a sudden?"
"Yes. All of a sudden. Now, please, would you call Nick? Here's his number."
Of course nobody answered the phone at Nicholas' home and Marcus was more than disappointed. Luckily he had the numbers of all his friends; insisting on it after Nick had vanished the last time. He was able to reach Matthias who told him that Nick was probably at Sebastian's flat. Marcus almost flipped.
Was there no end to it! His longing for Sebastian was so big that he had to stay in his flat! Damn it. So much for "only one time" ... "it just happened"!
Johannes watched Marcus' face - now a mixture of deep anger and disappointment. He quickly dialed Sebastian's number and got Nicholas on the phone after two rings.
"It's Johannes, Nick. How are you?"
"Oh, Johannes." Nicholas' voice sounded disappointed. "I'm fine. But how did you know that I was here?"
"Marcus has the number of a friend of yours and he told him."
"You mean Matthias, right? But why didn't Marcus call me himself?"
Johannes sighed. "Listen, Nick. We have an offer for you. Remember the woman who bought your portrait of the blond? She wants you to paint her family. It's a good offer, boy. Good money. I'll give you the number and address. Promise me to call her, won't you?"
Nicholas' mind swirled - Offer? Portraits? Money?- Vaguely he remembered a woman in grass-green pants... Sebastian had sold her the portrait of Kay for a horrid sum.
"Yes," he stuttered, "give me the address. I will go there. Today? Is seven a good time?"
"Calm down, Nick. First, call her, do you hear me? Such people don't like it when you just show up."
"Can't Marcus go with me?" He bit his lip. "Forget that. Is he there?" Johannes looked at Marcus. "No," he lied and hated Marcus for it. "Now write."
Nicholas set the pen down, staring at the sheet with the address and phone number. A commissioned work! Only for him! He flushed again. Would he be able to do it? He was still insecure with most rich people and their lifestyle, but surely the woman liked the way he painted and so there should be nothing for him to fear. He tried to figure out exactly where her residence was, but couldn't be sure. Rummaging through Sebastian's shelves and drawers for a map proved futile. He gave up with a sigh and turned towards his drawing from last night.
Again he was captivated by the embracing male bodies and wondered if he had drawn himself in the right proportion. Pulling off his sweatshirt to confirm the picture's rendering, he was startled by the door bell. Letting the sweatshirt fall to the floor, he tiptoed to the door, peering through the peephole. It took a moment for his brain to realize what his eyes beheld.
Marcus.
He was standing right before him, separated by perhaps only three centimeters of wood. Slowly his fingers curled around the door handle.
He was shaved, Nick noticed, hair combed and dressed in a black, thin pullover which suited him well. He looked like a dark angel. An avenging angel? Marcus' face clearly mirrored his emotions.
"Won't you let me in?" he asked.
Nicholas opened the door wide and Marcus passed him.
"You owe me an answer. Actually two," he said.
"Two?"
"I asked you if it was ok to think about you and me for a bit, but you just hung up. I hate that. And second, why have you crept away here to Sebastian's flat? Were you longing to be near him?"
Nicholas had led the way into the living room. Turning, he saw that Marcus was glaring over his shoulder. Without turning, Nicholas knew Marcus was looking at the drawing. His eyes wandered over Marcus' face trying to gauge his reaction. Marcus stepped by him, up to the easel.
"You made this? Yesterday?" he muttered. "It's me. It's... you and me."
"Indeed." Nicholas answered. "Did you really expect me to draw Sebastian?" he asked, bitterly.
Marcus swirled around. "Stop it Nick. Let us talk like sensible men, all right?"
"All right."
Again Marcus examined the drawing, outlining every body part with his eyes. "It's splendid, darling. Outstanding. It's the best you've ever made."
Nicholas' cheeks flushed; he knew Marcus spoke as connoisseur, not as a layman or somebody who only wanted to please him.
Marcus' eyes found his and the look from them was gentle. "You still owe me an answer."
"Yes." Nicholas breathed deeply. "You may have time, but I don't need it. I want you. You said nothing bad happened between you and George and I believe you. But you..." he looked away. "I'm not sure if you can forgive ME. It's... I was angry because you always valued YOUR desires over mine, or forgot mine altogether. You understand?" Turning his back to Marcus, he put his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I know my failure weighs more. I'm afraid you will never forget it. That you have lost your best friend ... because of me." He sighed deeply. "What have we done?"
If Nicholas had turned and looked at him, Marcus would have melted like frost in the early morning sun. As it was, he swallowed hard. "Nicholas," he whispered. "What can I say to you? What can I promise? I've thought a lot about it and I'm not cross with Sebastian. Not cross with you. I'm just tired."
Nicholas turned. "And you've lost weight," he said.
Marcus smiled. "A bit yes. I missed your cooking."
"You will never see George again?"
"Never!" Marcus exclaimed. "I haven't wasted a thought on him. Do you really think I did it because I fancied him?" He shook his head.
"No. That's the point, Marcus. It wasn't that you fancied another man. It was your madness to possess something for yourself, something you didn't want anyone else to have! You forgot about the feelings of the people who love you." He echoed Sebastian's words. "Have you finally realized this?" Nicholas continued.
"Yes, I have. But what do you want me to do? I love the job I do. It's been my whole life so far. I can't just stop it and do nothing."
Nicholas went to him, taking his upper arms in his hands. "Sure you can continue your work. But without the madness. You lost Simon over it. You want to lose me too?"
"I haven't already?" Marcus asked almost timidly.
Nicholas smiled. "Can forgive me?"
Marcus put a fingertip over Nicholas' lips. "Shsh. There's nothing to forgive." He pointed to the easel. "This drawing tells me everything."
With one smooth motion he pulled Nicholas close to him and trembled at the touch of his naked skin beneath his hands. It was so different from the feel of a dead piece of wood and glass. It was hot and smooth and velvet and vivid. It breathed and pulled together into goose bumps. Nothing could compare this. Nothing. He dug his hands into Nick's old golden hair, pulling his lips close. It felt like the very first kiss.
Nick's hands were all over him suddenly, trying to undress him but Marcus stopped his actions. Looking deep into Nick's blue eyes he whispered, "Not here. Not in Sebastian's bed." Taking Nicholas' small fingers in his hand tightly, Marcus told him, "Let's get your things together, sunshine, then I'll take you home."
Nicholas was lightheaded, as if he had drunk too much. As fast as he could he threw all his clothes into the bags, grabbed the painting utensils and pulled on his sweatshirt.
"The drawing?"
"Have you fixed it?"
"No. I have no fixative here."
"Then we'll pick it up later. Come." He stretched out his hand and pushed Nicholas through the door.
Marcus would do the right thing for him, he was sure. Was it so easy? Just a few words and everything would be like it was before? As if there had never been a George, a screen, nor a tryst with Sebastian? Only the future could tell if this would last. But Nick wouldn't think about it right now.
Marcus stopped the Mercedes in front of his workshop. With a broad smile he motioned to Nicholas to follow him. Just like their first meeting, Nicholas thought. Dust shimmered in the cross beams of the pale sun which had fought against the rain clouds and finally won. The sculpture of Mercury stood near the door, with his beautifully shaped legs and his polished dark skin. Beyond, the cupboards with dusty glass doors hid their contents so that only vague shadows could be seen. Broken spears were stacked against the wall and then there was the sword.
"Do you remember?" Marcus asked in a low, husky voice. He pointed to Michelangelo's drawing at the wall.
"Yes. I remember it all. You asked me if this was a woman or a man. You said it could be Tommaso dei Cavalieri."
Marcus laughed quietly. "You remember this name?"
"I told you, I remember everything," Nicholas repeated.
Marcus took Nicholas' hand and kissed the fingers. "Sometimes it's not so good to have the memory of an elephant, darling. You have to forget. And forgive."
"Memory prevents you from repeating your mistakes," Nicholas responded.
"Quite true."
Nicholas stepped up to the sword stuck in the rock. He grabbed the hilt with one hand and pulled lightly. It did not move. Marcus smiled and moved beside him.
"Have I ever told you that I love you?"
Nicholas swallowed and gazed searchingly into Marcus' dark eyes. Marcus put his hand tightly over Nicholas' where it still embraced the handle and pulled with him. Both men had the impression that the sword moved slightly. There was a cracking in the stone and a slight vibration in the metal. Or was it only happening in their imaginations?
"If we pulled out the sword, it would be a miracle," Nicholas said. "But to answer your question, no you've never said it. Have I?"
"Yes." Marcus kissed his lips. "You have. But I won't mind hearing it again. As for the other, miracles happen every day. You just have to wait and see."
He loosened Nick's hand from the hilt and pulled him to the exit. "I can't wait, angel. Come home."
He didn't have to say it twice.
-- END --