~Quartetto~

Chapter 41- Hard Revelations ​

Michelle seemed to be having trouble breathing. I let go of her hands, and tried to offer her what comfort I could.

"So you see, I'm not leaving you because I found a girl who was younger or prettier than you. I've always thought you were the prettiest girl I ever met! It's just that... well, apparently, I'm not wired that way. And it took me a long time to figure that out -- a lot longer than most people. And I'm honestly sorry that I hadn't figured it out before I got involved with you. I never wanted to hurt you! I hope you can believe that... You've been the most wonderful wife, Michelle, and I'll always be grateful to you!"

She stared at me, as though seeing me for the first time. And perhaps, in a way, she was -- even though I didn't feel any different, apart from being completely in love, I had just "come out of the closet" to her, so as far as she was concerned, she was seeing me as a gay/bi man for the first time.

"But... but... Brian! How could you--? I mean, you... we... we had great sex!" she protested.

"Yeah, we did," I agreed. "I enjoyed every minute of it. I never had any complaints in that department!"

I hoped my words would serve as some solace to her. She still seemed dazed, so I made a point of making eye contact, and repeated my affirmation.

"Michelle, I was always glad to be with you! You were wonderful, believe me! It's just... well, I've found the man I'm supposed to be with, for the rest of my life. And I want you to be free, too, to find the person you're supposed to be with -- the man who'll love you, and only you, for the rest of your life."

Her eyes started to fill with tears, which overflowed as she stifled a sob.

"Brian... how can you say that?!? What makes you think... you aren't that man?!?"

It stopped me cold. I'd never thought of that -- that maybe, Michelle had felt about me, the way I felt about Johann! It had never even occurred to me... Why was that? Was it because I had never felt that way about Michelle?!?

The enormity of what I had done came crashing down on me. I'd just destroyed our marriage, which was supposed to be a safe haven for her, because I'd chosen to pursue someone I'd fallen in love with -- not that that was inherently wrong, but I hadn't even considered that Michelle might be truly in love with me. And if she felt as deeply for me as I did for Johann... if Johann suddenly told me he didn't love me anymore, how would I feel?

"I--I'm sorry!"

What more could I say? How could I possibly make things any better?!?

Desperately needing to take some kind of action, I got up off of the floor, and saw my suitcases by the door. Well, at least I was already packed, I thought mirthlessly. I started to move towards my baggage.

"NO! Please, Brian, don't leave! Don't leave me!!"

Michelle was hanging onto my arm, trying to pull me down to the couch. I looked at her devastated and contorted face, and my mouth was too dry to form any words.

"Brian, please! I need you here! I--I'm having your baby, for Christ's sake! Don't go! Don't leave us!!"

I was torn. Would I be making some amends by staying with her, at least until the baby was born? But that was still months in the future... Could I bear to be away from Johann -- Serafim, my angel -- for so long? I tried to imagine it, and felt my heart ache for him. My heart also ached for Michelle, but out of guilt, not love -- and if I had to leave her eventually, anyway, I would suffer from guilt regardless.

I shook my head to clear it, and knew that I would much rather suffer the guilt, than the guilt and the separation from Johann combined. I gently pulled my arm out of her grip.

"I'm sorry... I have to go..."

"NO! No, you can't do this to me! You can't do this to your baby! You can't, you can't... I won't let you!" she screamed.

Something inside me snapped. I was being blackmailed by a baby that I hadn't even decided to have!

"You wanted this baby, so you can have it! You never bothered to ask my opinion, so even if I had a part in its conception, you can hardly demand that I take care of it, when you didn't even consult me about it! I think I'm being more than generous by supporting you financially! It was your decision to go ahead and get pregnant, or your mistake, so why should I be held responsible? Other women have kids and support themselves, so why can't you?!?"

She gasped as though I'd physically struck her.

"You--You wouldn't! You don't mean that!"

"All I'm saying is, you always said you didn't want any kids, then suddenly you decide you want this one, and then you expect me to give up my life to be your slave? Get real!! I was going to leave you before I knew about the kid, so why would I change my mind just because you changed your mind and got pregnant?"

"Because you're my husband, that's why!" she shrieked. "You're supposed to take care of me! You promised to take care of me! And I counted on you -- I trusted you!!"

She had a valid point, but I was riled enough to feel her words as a threat.

"All right, so I'll pay to keep you off the streets, but I'm not going to be guilt-tripped or blackmailed into staying with you! I'm through," I yelled, pulling off my wedding band and throwing it onto the coffee table. "I'm tired of doing the right thing! I wanted to fuck Johann to pieces, but I didn't -- I didn't because of you! I held up my end of the bargain as long as I could, but now I'm done! I want to be selfish, I want to be with Johann, and I want to be happy!"

Her shocked expression, and my lack of breath, finally made me stop my tirade.

"Johann?!? From your group?!? He's the one?!?" she choked out.

"Yes," I answered dully, feeling immensely tired now that I had said everything I had wanted to say and more. "He's waiting for me to come live with him in Salzburg. If you need anything, you can call me on my cell or contact the office here."

I started collecting my luggage, and realized that I would probably never come back to this place. I pulled out the apartment key from my pocket, and tossed it onto the table next to my ring. Which reminded me of something else.

"Look. I'm gonna have the divorce papers drawn up -- I'll make sure you get a fair shake -- but it's up to you if you want to go through with the divorce or not. I'd feel better if you did, and found yourself a new man, but if you'd rather stay married to me, for whatever reason, that's fine, too. I can't come out publicly with Johann, so if you want an arrangement like Cesare has with his wife -- oh, sorry, you wouldn't know, but he's involved with... with another guy, too, but his wife wants the prestige of being married to him, plus he goes home to see their kids every chance he gets -- anyway, if you'd prefer something like that, just don't sign the papers. And... I'd like to be a good father to the baby. Honestly, I do. So if you need anything, or... if there's anything I can do, just... tell me. I'll do my best."

She simply stared at me, as though she were in a catatonic trance.

"I'm sorry. I know it's hard to believe, but I really didn't go looking for someone else, and I really didn't go looking for another guy! But this... just happened. I can't explain it. And it's not your fault."

She sniffed, then her lips suddenly twisted into a snarl.

"Just... GO!" she shouted. "Go be with your gay lover in Hamburg or Valburg or wherever! I don't care, and I never want to see you again!"

"Fine," I replied, too exhausted to fight anymore. I clumsily pushed my two large suitcases through the door, grabbed my shoulder bags, and left.

The first order of business, I thought, was to set up separate bank accounts for Michelle and me. This was something I needed to do through the production studio's office, which had been handling my finances ever since I'd signed the contract. It was Saturday, but Leo had mentioned that he would be in the New York office today, wrapping up stuff from our tour, so Diggs would probably be there as well. I hailed a cab and went downtown to the high-rise where the office was located.

I felt conspicuous getting my luggage out of the cab in downtown, but thankfully there weren't as many people in the business district on the weekend, and once inside the building I could ask the front desk to keep my suitcases at least. I went up to the floor where the office and small recording studio was located, and entered the office with my ID card. There were no lights on in the main office, but I could see that one of the back offices was lit -- probably the one Leo used when he was in town.

As I walked toward it in the semi-darkness, I could hear Leo's voice. Maybe he was on the phone, or talking to Diggs. But as I got closer, I noticed that there was something strange about his conversation. It didn't even seem to be a conversation, since I couldn't make out the words... Was it in another language? One I didn't know? Suddenly he made a noise like a cat that got its tail stepped on, only in a much lower key. And then he started grunting and gasping...

I could see into the brightly lit office through the vertical blinds that weren't quite pulled completely shut, and what I glimpsed made me freeze. Leo was leaning back in his chair, and Diggs was on his knees, in front of him, his face buried in Leo's crotch...

I almost ran back the way I'd come, but trying not to make any noise, which slowed down my pace a bit. My heart was thumping like it wanted to jump out of my chest, and I had the strongest desire to claw my eyeballs out, as though that would remove the image seared onto my brain.

As I neared the front of the office, I paused to catch my breath. What now? I couldn't leave without getting things set up for Michelle. Should I wait until Monday? But that was two days away, which also meant that I would have to find a place to stay over the weekend. And I couldn't bear the thought of being away from Johann any longer than I absolutely had to.

I groaned, and retraced my steps to the kitchen/break room. I would wait for them to finish, but I didn't want to see or hear anything else. I closed the door, dropped my bag on a chair, and started to make coffee.

 

Chapter 42- Halfway Across the World ​

I sat and sipped the coffee, trying to digest everything that had happened. I regretted some of the things I'd said to Michelle, especially about it being her idea to have the baby, so she should handle the responsibility herself. I knew that was a low blow, since it was my kid, too, after all. And the more I thought about it, the more I wondered about the baby. Would it be a boy or girl? Would he/she look like me, or Michelle, or a combination of both? I'd never even considered being a father, since Michelle had been adamant about not wanting children before, but now that the opportunity had presented itself, I couldn't help but be a little awestruck to think that we'd created a new life -- a new person that would grow up to be a unique human being. It was mind-boggling, to say the least.

My pondering on the mysteries of life was interrupted by the indelicate sound of a toilet flushing. Fervently hoping that they were not having a "quickie" in the men's room, I crept across the hall and knocked on the door.

"What? You can come in," Diggs said, thinking it was Leo.

I went in cautiously, and found to my great relief that Diggs was simply washing his hands. He saw my reflection in the mirror and started.

"Brian!!! What're you doing here?!?"

"Waiting for you guys to finish. You are finished, aren't you?" I demanded. Diggs blanched.

"Oh, uh... yeah. Definitely. Um... you...?"

"Yeah. Not that I wanted to, of course."

"Ah, sorry about that, mate! But, uh... what brings you here? I mean, how did it go with your wife?"

I sighed, and leaned against the wall.

"Horrible. She's pregnant."

"No!!"

"But I left her... I'm probably gonna rot in hell for this, but... I had one moment of clarity. I guess you could call it an epiphany... I realized that I was gonna feel guilty about leaving her, whether I did it now or later, so I figured I would rather just suffer the guilt, rather than the guilt plus not being with Johann until the baby's born..."

Diggs nodded sympathetically.

"I think you did the only thing you could, considering. No need to drag it out! Don't worry, we can make sure she's comfortably taken care of."

"Yeah, that's what I came here to set up -- a separate account for the two of us, and to make sure, you know, that she has enough for all the expenses, at least."

"Sure, I can help you with that. So, did she throw you out of the house?"

I nodded. "Pretty much. Said she never wants to see me again."

"Ouch! But you never know, it could just be because of the shock. Maybe you could ask her later, after the dust settles, if you can have visitation rights."

"Yeah, I hope so... but I'm going to Austria to be with Johann, and what with working and going on tour, I'm not gonna be around much, anyway..."

We walked back to the desk where he had set up shop, and he had me fill out the paperwork authorizing him to make the changes to my account, and we figured out how much Michelle would need to live comfortably based on the apartment rent and what she usually spent on her credit card. He even promised to get me a Swiss bank account, like they do in old spy movies and such, since it would be more convenient to use in Europe.

Leo came out of his office after a moment, and I deliberately omitted telling him that I'd arrived at the office a while ago. He was shocked about the baby, but agreed that we needed to give Michelle some time to cool off, and offered to keep her on the company's health insurance policy even if she did sign the divorce papers. Which, Diggs suggested, the company attorneys could draw up and send for me to sign. It seemed the path of least resistance, and I agreed to everything readily.

After we'd done as much as was possible on a Saturday, Diggs and Leo offered to take me out to lunch, but I declined, since I wanted to get to the airport and see if I could fly to Europe on standby. Diggs went back on his computer and managed to find me a seat on a direct flight to Munich, from where I could go to Salzburg by train. In fact, since Johann was staying overnight in London, I would be arriving in the Salzburg train station at 12:04, just minutes after Johann's flight landed him at the Salzburg airport at 11:45! Of course, my flight didn't leave until 5:30 this evening, but I hoped to get some shut-eye in the VIP lounge at the airport.

That left me enough time to join them for lunch, which we spent mostly discussing the tour and our selections for the new CD. Leo said he was staying in New York for a while on business, and I tactfully didn't ask him for any details. I could guess that he was going to be "shacking up" with Diggs for a while. As we lingered over our coffee, Diggs asked if there was anything else that he could help me with. I thought for a moment, debating with myself, before taking a deep breath and plunging into the one topic that I would have never envisioned broaching in Leo's company -- before today, that is.

"There is... one thing, you can help me with," I started slowly. "You know... Johann's invited me to live with him, at his apartment..."

"Obviously," Diggs replied with a smile. "I was surprised that he didn't insist on waiting for you here!"

I felt my mouth go dry, and sipped some water. "Well, when I get there... it's going to be our first time... together."

"Oh! You mean... you haven't...?"

"No. Not yet."

Leo groaned, "Are we really having this conversation?!?" but Diggs glared at him and he shut up.

"So," I continued, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt, "I want to make it... memorable."

Diggs grinned broadly. "Of course! And you've come to the right man, my boy! I know just what you need -- some reading material!"

Diggs printing some stories from the Internet that he had read already, the more naughty ones about us that he hadn't shown Johann. I never got that nap in the airport lounge, engrossed as I was with what Diggs assured me was some of the finest how-to manuals on pleasuring a man.

"I only gave you the best," he told me with a salacious smirk before dropping me off at the JFK Airport. I had to believe him, as I waded through verbiage both implied and explicit on how to stroke, suck, prod, prep, and penetrate a lover. If I never read another line about scissoring one's fingers in another's anatomical cavity, that would be fine by me. I couldn't get the mental imagery out of my head now, anyway. I just hoped it worked!

I'd called Johann's cell phone and left a message, even though I knew he'd be out of communication during his flight to London, just to tell him when I would be arriving in Salzburg. My flight began to board at 4:45, and although I was in Business Class and could get on right away, I waited out in the lobby, knowing I would be in the cramped quarters of the plane for a long time, and tried to stretch out my long limbs for a few extra minutes. I was glad I had chosen to wait outside, since my cell rang. It was Johann.

"Brian! You can leave already?!?" he said, sounding excited.

"Yeah! Actually, my wife kicked me out -- said she didn't want to see me anymore -- so I really didn't have a choice! Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay!!! Don't be silly, I can't wait to see you!!"

I wished I could kiss him through the phone.

"Me, too! I know I'll get there right after you, so where should we meet?"

"Stay at train station, I'll come for you," he promised. "We can take taxi to go home."

"Home," I repeated, feeling beatific.

"Yes, our home," he purred. "We will go home together!"

"Sounds wonderful," I sighed.

"I love you, Brian!"

"Je t'aime, mon ange!" I echoed back to him.

He called me again, just as I was going through Customs after disembarking in Munich.

"Excuse me, I need to take this call," I told the official, opening my phone. "Hello, Mein Engel!" I said, getting a sharp look from the official as he reviewed my passport.

"Good, you are in Munich now?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm in Customs."

"Oh, okay! I'm getting on plane soon."

"All right. Did you get some sleep?" I asked.

"Yes, but I dream of you all night!" he sighed, sounding happy.

"Just a few more hours, now," I told him, feeling the excitement building within myself.

"Yes! I will meet you at train station!"

"Okay! I'll see you soon!"

When I hung up, the official asked dourly, "Business or pleasure?"

"Pleasure!" I answered, grinning at him like a fool.

As happy as I was to arrive in Salzburg, after a train ride through the beautiful countryside, I was exhausted. I'd gotten some sleep on the plane, but of course it's never as deep or restful as a real bed, and the sheer effort of hauling two suitcases through lines and inspections and crowds, moving through three countries in less than half a day, was draining. The train had deposited a small army of tourists at this station, and I let them dissipate before venturing out to the front of the building, knowing that Johann would have to claim his luggage at the airport, go through Customs, et cetera.

The sun was out, with a few clouds skittering across it from time to time, but overall my first view of the city was beautiful. There were old -- ancient, really -- buildings lined up side by side, as well as more modern structures, and I could see the top of a cathedral not too far away. There was a castle on a hill that dominated the landscape, with steep mountains in the background. I'd noticed that the terrain had gone from being level around Munich to more rugged and mountainous the further we'd gotten towards Austria, and remembered that I was in the Austrian Alps now. I wondered if Johann ever skied, and if so, if he could teach me. I had done cross-country back home in Illinois, where the land was as flat as a pancake, but would need to learn how to navigate a real slope around here!

A cab drove up to the station, and I could see Johann's bright smile even before he got out. He flung himself at me exuberantly, and I caught him in a bear hug, lifting him right off of his feet.

"My angel!" I cried, relieved to be reunited.

"Brian, my love," he murmured into my ear. I grinned as we loaded my suitcases into the car -- we were going home!

 

Chapter 43- Home with My Angel ​

The taxi wound through narrow streets for a few minutes, as Johann discreetly held my hand behind my bags. I could feel the excitement running through him like electricity, but he didn't seem to want to talk -- the moment was so perfect, and so longed-for, that we both wanted to savor it.

We pulled up to an older apartment building with verandas on the upper floors. I unloaded the trunk as Johann paid the driver, and when he stepped out beside me he pointed to the third floor, where some potted flowers were blooming.

"That's it," he announced happily. I looked up at the front of the building, and was momentarily dazzled by the sunlight reflected from the large windows. "Come on!" he laughed, rolling his suitcases into the door ahead of him.

"There is elevator in back," he told me as I followed him in. There was a staircase on the right that I assumed we would use normally, when we didn't have luggage. As it was, there was only room for one of us after all the suitcases and bags were crammed into the elevator.

"I'll meet you on the third floor," I told him, and although I was too tired to dash up the stairs, I managed to make it up only a few seconds after the elevator, and helped him push the suitcases. There were four apartments on each level, with four levels, and different smells assaulted my nose as I passed the other doors (since it was lunchtime), reminding me that I was mildly hungry. That could wait, though -- I was more eager to see Johann's apartment -- our apartment!

Unlocking the door and going ahead through a narrow hall, Johann explained that the room on the right was the office. Beyond that was a formal dining room with a beautiful mahogany dining table and matching chairs, plus two hutches that showcased the fine china and glassware elegantly. The chandelier was so intricate that I wondered if it were an antique.

On the left side was a very open living space, with a sofa and coffee table in front of a large flat-screen TV, and a little sitting area beyond that to let you look out the windows -- actually, four sliding glass doors -- at the old city beyond the river, with the imposing castle on the hill. Behind the wall of the entryway was the kitchen, with a green marble countertop that wrapped around it and a few barstools on the far side, where there was another table with patterned dark mahogany and cherry wood -- a very fancy breakfast nook, which shared the view of Salzburg. The flowers seemed to welcome us as they soaked in the sun's rays out on the verandah.

"What an amazing view!" I said, stopping to admire it.

"Isn't it?" Johann smiled. "I saw other apartments, but I liked this one best, because of the scene."

He slipped his hand into mine and squeezed, leaning against my arm.

"I am so happy you are here! I was afraid... it would be very hard, being here alone."

I turned to plant a kiss on the top of his head.

"I'm glad I could come so soon, too! Diggs found that flight for me, which was great."

I bent down to kiss him properly. Having spent almost twenty-four hours away from him, it was like water for a thirsty camel. When we finally parted for lack of air, Johann tenderly gazed into my face.

"You must be tired! I was able to sleep a little at Luc's, but you have been traveling all night! Would you like to nap?"

"Um... actually, could I shower first? I feel all scuzzy..."

"What is... 'scuzzy'?"

I had to laugh.

"It's not really a word, but I think it's a combination of 'scummy' and 'fuzzy' -- basically, I feel dirty."

"Oh, okay!" His smile almost made me forget how tired I was. "Bring your things into the bedroom, then. The bathroom is here," he said, leading me further down the hallway and through the door on the left.

I was surprised to find a king-sized bed dominating the bedroom, but there was certainly enough room for it! It had the same floor space as the living room, with two sliding glass doors that offered another stunning view of the city. The bathroom was between the bedroom and the living room, with a full bath and even a privacy wall/storage unit hiding the john. He pulled out some towels from the closet, kissed my cheek, and promised, "I'll have lunch ready when you get out!"

Nothing feels so great, after traveling for a long time, than getting clean with hot water and plenty of soap! I caught myself singing before I knew it, and hoped I wasn't being too loud. I felt refreshed and much hungrier when I got out, but took a minute to shave, since I was hoping to do some serious making out -- and perhaps more -- with Johann after lunch.

I didn't think I'd taken longer than usual to shower, but the spread on the table (in the sunny breakfast nook) put me at a loss for words.

"How did you cook all this so fast?" I asked Johann, gaping at the feast.

He burst out laughing -- the sound I most loved to hear in the whole world!

"I never say I cook lunch, I say I get it ready!" he grinned. "I went across the street to my favorite café! I got enough so I don't have to cook tonight, too."

I had to smirk at that. "Good thinking! So we can both rest."

"Yes." He put his arms around my waist and leaned against me. "So we can just... be together."

After hugging him back and kissing his forehead, we sat down to a rich soup (with cabbage), what looked like roast beef cooked in a tomato-based sauce, boiled sausages and potatoes, sauerkraut, warm rye bread, and some beer. Everything tasted good to me, even the sauerkraut! And as we sat across from each other at the table, we had a marvelous panoramic view of the city and the hills beyond. I shook my head to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

"This is amazing," I told him. "The food, the view... the company!"

He smiled back as he reached to cut another slice of bread.

"So... how did it go... with Michelle?"

I froze, a bite of sausage caught in my mouth. I chewed it thoughtfully before washing it down with some beer.

"She was upset, of course... Yelled at me towards the end -- not that I blame her."

I reached out and grabbed Johann's hand, which he'd left outstretched on the table.

"I have some... well, good news and bad news."

"What is it?" he asked, immediately concerned.

"She's... pregnant."

"WHAT?!?"

He stared at me, hardly believing his ears.

"She--She's having a baby?!?"

"Yeah. I was shocked, because she always said she didn't want kids..."

"When? How soon...?"

"Not for a while yet. She said she's three months along, so it'll be six months or more."

He sat in stunned silence, looking towards me but not focusing. I squeezed his hand gently.

"I know this was unexpected, but it doesn't change anything -- not really! I promised her I'd take care of her, money-wise, but it was her decision to get pregnant -- without asking me about it -- so I don't feel responsible for it. I mean, I'd like to get to know the kid, of course, and try to be as good of a father as possible, but I had no say in it, so it's not like I'm shirking my responsibility..."

"But... but this is horrible!" Johann broke out, his voice quavering. "It's bad enough I take you from your wife, but... from your baby? Your own child?!? I can't, this is too bad..."

"Johann, listen!" I interrupted, getting up from my chair and going to his side. "I know you never meant to take me away, and you're not! I belong here with you! It's not your fault, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure the kid has a decent father, so you don't have to feel bad, all right?"

"But... Brian!" he cried, tears welling in his eyes. "You would never... never have agreed... to leave your wife, if you only knew!!"

"Well... maybe," I answered slowly. When I first found out how Johann and I felt for each other, I had been determined not to betray my wife. I couldn't even remember how or when I'd decided to leave her. And if I'd known about the baby... I wasn't sure I would have had the courage to make that decision. It certainly wouldn't have been as easily.

"Johann... I'm almost glad... yes, I'm definitely glad that I didn't know until now! It would have been much harder to decide what to do. But Serafim -- my angel," I added, pulling up his chin so that he would look me in the eye, "I know I made the right decision, to leave her and come to you! I feel bad about her having to raise my child alone, but... she made that choice herself, and I would never be happy without you. I have to be with you, Serafim!"

He pursed his lips for a moment, biting back tears, then nodded.

"I need to be with you, too, Brian..."

I kissed his forehead and held him close against my chest as he trembled.

"But I--I know, what it's like, to miss a parent, so... it's just hard, being the one, to--to take you away... so far away from America..."

"Oh, Johann, don't worry! I would have been gone, recording in London and touring around the world most of the time, anyway! And I don't even know... how often Michelle will let me see the kid. She said she never wanted to see me again, and... maybe she was just mad, but what if she doesn't want me to be a part of the kid's life?"

Serafim's eyes widened in horror.

"You think... she would do that? Keep you from seeing the baby?"

"I don't know... It's hard to tell. I couldn't even see the pregnancy coming!" I shook my head. "I'm the last one to ask what a woman is thinking!"

"And she... she never said she wanted baby?" he asked, wondering.

"No! In fact, she always looked down on women who gave up their careers to have kids! I still can't get over it -- that she was willing to give up hers, just because she found out she was pregnant..."

"Maybe... maybe she say things like that, to see what you would say," he suggested.

I looked at him, startled -- I hadn't thought of that before.

"Maybe she thought that was what you wanted to hear... or even, if you didn't agree, that it would be okay to have kids," he mused. "She might have been watching your reaction."

"That's entirely possible," I admitted, with some frustration. "But I wish she would have just come out and said so!"

"Brian," he said softly, "let's promise, we never wonder what the other is thinking. That we will always ask, and talk."

"Yeah," I agreed, and sealed it with a kiss.

 

Chapter 44- All the Way ​

We put away our lunch leftovers in the fridge, which was the barest and cleanest I'd ever seen in my life -- but of course, we were on tour for two months, so Serafim had thrown out anything perishable before he'd left. When he was done loading the tiny dishwasher and I'd finished wiping down the table, I saw him turn to me and smile seductively. Needing no more of a hint than that, I pushed him against the counter and entangled him in a kiss. He moaned as he rubbed his hands across my back, pulling me closer. I felt the blood rush to my head -- actually, to both of them!

"Serafim!" I panted, drawing back to look at him. He was blushing furiously, and I knew he wanted this, needed this, after waiting for so long. He'd had hardly any relief, even when he'd satisfied my needs so expertly. I pecked his adorable cheek one more time before stooping to pick him up, like I'd done on our first night in Vegas, and carried him, laughing, to the master bedroom.

"Watch out! The suitcases," he warned, as I stepped through the door sideways. He was heavier than the last time, it seemed, but I realized that was only because I was tired. I couldn't help letting out a sigh as I set him carefully down on the bed.

"There, safe and sound!" I smiled, and he reached to pull me down on top of him.

"My Brian," he murmured, as our arms wrapped around each other naturally. We picked up our kiss where we'd left off, and before I knew it, he had unbuttoned my shirt down to my navel.

"Time to get... more comfortable!" he declared.

"Couldn't agree more," I replied, yanking my shirt out of my pants, followed closely by my undershirt. Both were on the floor in a second.

I loved the soft feel of his sweater as I slid my hands under it to start peeling it off of him. He cooperated by pulling off his sleeves, and I finished by pulling it over his head. We both worked on his buttons, but I paused to kiss his nose, getting in his way and being rewarded by a giggle. His shirt soon joined mine, revealing the bare canvas of his chest and stomach, which I was determined to paint with kisses. He laughed at one point, letting me know he was a bit ticklish under his armpits -- a fact that I gleefully tucked into my memory.

"You're... so... beautiful!" I told him, punctuating my words with gentle nips on his ivory skin.

"Brian... please!" he pleaded, and I glanced down to realize that he needed his trousers removed in a bad way. Which, of course, affected me in the same manner. I unbuckled his belt and opened up the front of his pants, touching his manhood for the first time, even though it was through the fabric of his boxers. I caressed it and freed it from the constraints of the trousers, then got off of the bed to remove my own.

Not wanting to waste time, I stripped off my shorts and socks, too, and helped pull off Serafim's trousers, then reached for his boxers. He eyed me, almost hungrily, as he watched me rip off the last of his clothing, including his socks.

"Brian, if you would," he said, his voice unusually husky, "in that suitcase is the... lotions and things, that Luc gave us."

Realizing that it was a necessary item for what we wanted to do, I quickly fetched the tube of lube from his suitcase. I brought out the handcuffs, too, but threw them without interest on the bedside table. If it were possible, Serafim blushed even more.

"I don't think we use those," he said, slightly put out. "Luc likes to be... rough. They are into bondage."

"If you don't like it, I don't like it," I assured him, holding the tube in one hand to warm it up -- something I'd learned to do from Diggs' reading material. I straddled him, looking down into his lovely face with excitement and anticipation.

"I love you," I whispered, lowering myself to cover his body. "I don't want to hurt you... Be sure to tell me if it hurts, okay?"

"Okay," he answered, gazing at me dreamily. "But I know you won't hurt me!"

The heat radiating from him was palpable, and answered by my own. I squeezed a bit of lube onto my palm, and spread it over his throbbing manhood, then repeated it for mine. As I put my arms around him and tasted his lips again, the two rubbed against each other, heightening our need.

He clung to me, making me feel so... powerful, and wanted. I cupped his buns with both of my slippery hands and squeezed them gently, making him gasp. When I got up and fumbled as I put more lube onto my fingers, he turned onto his side, giving me unrestricted access to his backside as well as a marvelous view of his cheeks. They looked as kissable as the ones on his face, so, of course, I did -- after checking that the label on the tube said "Non-Toxic."

"Brian!" he cried out, startled. "What are you doing?!?"

"Just wanted to kiss your cheeks. All of them."

He returned my grin with confusion.

"Cheeks? That's not my cheeks..."

"We call these cheeks, too, in America," I told him, putting my lips and tongue to them again. "Sweet cheeks!"

"Oh," was his only reply, but I thought his voice was quivering. It was time to get down to business!

I lay down next to him, pulling him close with my left hand while my right hand, tipped with more lube, slid down the crack between his nether cheeks.

"Ready?" I asked him, our lips barely separated by air.

"Yes!" he answered, breathlessly, and I started by rubbing his entrance with one finger. I could feel him twitch and move, trying to relax his muscles to let me in. I tried putting the tip into the center, and found that there was less resistance than I'd expected. Feeling encouraged, I pushed it in deeper, careful not to scratch him. His heat engulfed me as I felt my way inside, and although he clenched my finger at first, he gradually relaxed. I started twisting my finger and pulling at the opening in every direction, stretching it out. He moaned, but in a good way, wanting more.

When I thought he could handle a second finger, I got up and went to the foot of the bed so I could see what I was doing. As much as I hated to let go of him, I wanted to find his prostate without scratching it with my fingernails. And when I did, his response was immediate.

"Ahhhnnn!" he gasped, and I saw his organ swell. His sweet spot was a small, round area that was more solid than the rest of the inner wall, and I slid the soft part of my fingers over it lightly. He made high-pitched keening sounds, but seemed to be enjoying it, so I tried to add to his pleasure by wrapping my other hand around his manhood and rubbing it.

"B--Brian!" he called, barely able to see me where I sat behind him. I increased the pace of my stroking and rubbing, and suddenly felt him tremble uncontrollably. As I pumped him in front, and prodded him from behind, he cried out and released his male milk onto the bedspread. Some of the goo got on my hands, giving me a deep sense of satisfaction -- I had finally been able to give him pleasure, and release!

Of course, now my own need was desperate, and I'd begun to leak. I used the scissoring technique that I'd read about to try to pry him open, and added a third finger from my left hand inside of him. He groaned, and I pulled out promptly.

"Did that hurt?" I asked, concerned.

"No... Not much. Please, I want you in me!" he whimpered, rolling onto his stomach to present his rear. I sat on my knees between his legs, put more lube into his opening, and tried again. He groaned into the pillow, but at the same time he grabbed his own cheeks and spread them apart. I figured that as long as he was doing that, he wanted me to continue.

After rubbing all around his back door and probing as deep as I could to open up his passage, I removed my fingers. My breathing had become ragged as I waited to be sure he was ready, and I felt like my male missile was ready to explode.

"Johann... Serafim, my angel!" I breathed, placing myself at his entrance.

He looked back over his shoulder, gripped the pillow, and nodded. I entered.

It went in fairly easily, although the ring at his opening was tight. Pushing further, I had to tell myself repeatedly to go slow, since my instinct was to hump him like a dog. He gasped when I found the limit of my fingers, where he wasn't stretched out yet, and I knew I had to wait. I lay down on top of his back and kissed his neck, feeling him trying to ease his breathing under me, as the tip of my probe pressed gently but relentlessly into his depths.

"Brian... so... big!" he panted, but with admiration in his voice (or so I thought). I caressed his arms and shoulders, tasting his neck in an attempt to distract myself from where we were now securely joined. However, when he begged, "Please... more!" I couldn't hold out any longer. I started thrusting into him, each time burrowing more deeply into his flesh. He cried out as I pounded him into the bed, but even if he had screamed at me to stop, I was too far gone. As I rutted into him like an animal, I dimly realized that my entire length was now fitting inside, since my nuts were slapping against his cheeks and my tip had found solid resistance.

His narrow entrance was constricted around the base of my organ, and the sensation of sliding through it, both forwards and backwards, was driving me insane. It was a much tighter fit than anything I'd ever experienced before, but I quickly found myself relishing it, and thrusting faster as I felt my climax approaching.

"Serafim... my angel! So... good!" I mumbled, incoherent as the blood left the rest of my body to power the one organ that mattered right now.

"Ungh! Oh... Brian!" he called, pushing up against me, matching my movements thrust for thrust.

It ended in a few hard strokes, as I shoved myself as deep as possible into his hot, tight, welcoming body. I felt my volcano erupt, over and over, spewing molten lava into Serafim's tunnel. As I squeezed out every last drop, trembling from the effort, his name was on my lips.

"Se...ra...fim!!" I cried, in heavenly ecstasy.

"Ahhh! Bri...an!!" he responded, satisfied and sated.

I had filled him with my seed; he was truly mine, now!

Collapsing onto his back, still lodged inside of him, I slid my hands under him in a tight embrace.

"Mine! My... angel...!"

"My love," he answered, in a happy murmur.

I fell, exhausted, into a dreamless sleep.

 

Chapter 45- The Flip Side
​

I woke up slowly, disoriented and a bit chilly. For a moment I thought I was in a hotel room, still on tour, but I saw the hilltop fortress through the window and remembered -- Salzburg, and Serafim. Wow! Yes, Serafim! We had finally gone "all the way," and I was happy to admit that I was gay. Utterly, completely, and most definitely gay!

When I yawned and stretched I also realized that I was still as naked as a jay bird, but my angel must have covered me with the blanket I was under. Where was he? I heard running water from the bathroom and, feeling frisky again, I jumped up to investigate.

Carefully opening the door, I saw that Serafim was in the shower, singing as he washed his hair. I couldn't resist slipping into the tub behind him and grabbing him by the ribs -- right where he was ticklish! He jumped as a startled yell left his lips, and I hugged him to my chest, laughing.

"B--Brian! You scare me!" he said, catching his breath.

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't've..." I sputtered, still shaking with laughter as I held him tight. Apparently, it was infectious, since he started to giggle, too.

"It's... okay! I just... didn't think you would wake up, so soon. I couldn't wake you, you were sleeping so hard!" He twisted around to kiss my chin. "You were very tired!"

"Yeah. I'm better now," I told him, returning the kiss properly. When he tried to make it French, though, I backed away. "Serafim, I'm sorry, I haven't brushed my teeth since before lunch!"

"I don't care," he countered. "I didn't even clean before I let you in!"

"Huh?" I asked, thinking that the apartment had been spotless. He smiled shyly.

"Usually, I clean out my... tunnel, before. But today, I'm sorry, I couldn't wait!"

I felt my face flush at both revelations. There was still a lot I had to learn, obviously, but I was glad that he had been so eager for me!

"So... are you okay? You're not... sore?"

"I'm wonderful!" he sighed, contentedly leaning against my chest. "Better than wonderful! I feel... marvelous!" He looked up, a glint in his eyes, and started to sing, "You're marvelous! Too ma~~~rvelous for words!"

I grinned and kissed him again, this time letting him take it as deep as he liked. We both rose to the occasion, and Serafim chuckled as he rubbed our growing members together.

"Let me finish washing," he said, leaning back into the water to rinse his hair. I gave myself another once-over, then followed Serafim in rinsing off and stepping out of the tub. He was waiting for me with a fresh towel.

"How long was I asleep?" I asked as I dried off.

"About three hours. Are you hungry yet?"

"No. Well... just hungry for you!"

"Okay," he said, wrapping his arms around my neck. "You can eat me!"

He pressed himself against me, letting me know how much he wanted me, too. I kissed his cheek where it puffed out adorably when he smiled.

"This time," he said, pulling me through the door to the bedroom, "I want to do different position!"

"All right... You show me!"

He smiled and peeled back the covers (reminding me that we hadn't technically made it into bed, the first time) and lay supine with his knees bent, looking at me expectantly. I climbed in between his legs, admiring the view before me. He was truly exquisite -- his limbs well proportioned, his skin smooth and unblemished, and his manhood standing at rapt attention. I felt myself growing harder just looking at him.

"I'm almost ready," he said, reaching over to the bedside table for the lube. "I just need a little more."

I took it from him and rubbed some into his entrance, then made sure my manhood was slick with it, too. Leaning over him, I was thrilled that I would see his face as I made love to him, and it was exciting (although somewhat embarrassing) that he could watch me as well. He grabbed the backs of his knees to hold them up, and I guided myself into him with one hand.

"Unnnghhh!" he moaned, his eyes closing as I pushed into him.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"Oh... yeah!" he answered, putting his legs behind my back to pull me in closer. "Brian... Oh! I like this, so much... I love having you... inside me... Brian!" His wanton expression told me that he meant it, and I was close to drooling over him.

I inched up the bed as I drove deeper into his "tunnel," and he started to stroke himself with both hands. It was the most erotic thing I had ever experienced -- watching him pleasure himself, moaning my name, as my own manhood was buried deep within him, squeezing through a tight band of muscles that seemed intent on wringing out every last bit of my milk. I had hoped to take it slower this time, to really enjoy the act of love, but the squelching noises made by the lube were so disgustingly arousing, that I soon found my nobler intentions overtaken by the baser, and I started thrusting into him forcefully.

"Ahhh, Brian! Ahhh... Ahhh!" he cried, arching his back and driving me further up the ladder to ecstasy. I had been crouching on all fours, but suddenly, pounding into him was not enough, so I grasped his hips in both hands to pull his body towards me at the same time. It lasted for several thrusts, until he let go of his own needy member to grab my shoulders.

"Down... on me... please!" he panted, and as I lowered my torso onto his, I realized why he had made this request -- this new angle of attack let me plunge even deeper into his hot body, and when I wrapped my arms under his back, my lips met his almost by design. I plundered his mouth, dueling with his tongue, as I lustfully ravaged the other opening between his nether cheeks. From the helpless moans that escaped him, I gathered that I was hitting his sweet spot fairly regularly.

"Hold... hold my... shoulders," he managed to say between thrusts, and I complied as quickly as I could. This allowed me to hold his torso still as I drove into him, making our union that much deeper and more satisfying.

"Good! Oh, angel... my... precious... Serafim!" I cried, feeling my climax near as I repeatedly plunged into him. My movements were fast now, almost frantic, as the tension built between us.

"Brian, please... I want to... come, together!" he gasped, pumping himself again between our bodies.

"Are you... close? I can't... hold out...!"

"Yes, almost! Oh, Brian... so big! So... good!"

"Sera...fim! I... I'm coming... Ahhh! Ahhh!!"

"Me, too! Oh! Brian! Bri...ahhhn!!"

I felt his warmth wrapping me tremble and tighten as he spilled his milk, and almost simultaneously I released mine inside of him. He was done a second or two before me, and he looked up at me through half-closed eyes, happy and complete. At least, that was how I assumed he felt, since that was how I felt!

"My darling... Serafim," I murmured, pulling out of him so he could lower his legs to a more comfortable position.

"Brian... my big, strong, Brian!" he breathed, putting his arms around my neck again.

I lay against him for a few minutes, cradled by his arms, basking in the afterglow of our passion.

"Brian," he said, softly, "Do you like... making love, to a man?"

I chuckled. "Didn't I look like I enjoyed it?!?"

"Well, yes, but... I mean... how is it, compared to... a woman?"

Pushing myself up onto my elbows, I looked him square in the eye.

"Serafim. This was the best sex I've ever had in my life! And that's saying something, because I did enjoy sex with my wife. But hands down, this was better. Far better!"

"Oh," was all he said, but his smile could have melted the polar ice caps. I kissed him and lay back down.

"I think it was so good," I told him, "because it was more than just sex -- we were making love! And I never loved anybody else as much as I love you."

"Oh, Brian!" he cried, hugging me. "I'm so glad! I feel same way, too! But I--I wonder, just because... well..." He swallowed once before confessing,"I never... make love to woman, and... I don't know... what it's like."

I looked at him in some surprise.

"Really? Never?!?"

He shook his head.

"No, never! I... well... Bernard... He was jealous, and... my school, was only boys, so... there were boys, who wanted to... have sex with me, but... I never let them, because I know... Bernard would be angry..."

I couldn't help staring at him.

"So... he was the only one, until me?"

"Yes," he replied, with the hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"Wow," I said, somewhat stunned. "He really kept a tight leash on you..."

"A what?"

"A leash, like a rope to keep you tied to him," I explained. "He didn't give you a lot of freedom."

"Well... no."

"If it's any consolation," I said, after a moment, "this was my first time... in the back door."

It only took a second for Serafim to catch on.

"Really? Not even with your wife?!?"

"Nope." I thought about it. "I guess I wasn't very adventurous. I was satisfied with... you know, the regular way, with a woman. But now that I've tried this way," I added with a grin, "I don't think I'd enjoy any other way! Or, for that matter," I amended, kissing his cheek, "any other person!"

He glowed with pleasure, even though his smile was bashful.

"I think so, too," he whispered. "It will never be better with anybody else!"

We washed up and put on our sleepwear before heading out to the kitchen for dinner. Serafim decided he could wait to pick up his mail from the neighbors until tomorrow, since he was too tired to get into day clothes. I asked him again if he wasn't sore, and he declared, with spirit, "I'm tougher than you think!"

I was watching the soup come to a simmer on the stove, while Serafim nuked the potatoes, when a loud chime sounded.

"Is that the doorbell?"

"Yes! Maybe my neighbors saw me come home, and bring my mail," he said, tying the belt of his bathrobe to cover up the front of his pajamas.

I listened as he opened the front door and started talking with another man in German. They sounded like they were arguing, but then, that's what German always sounds like to me, so I didn't think much about it. That is, until Serafim shouted, and I heard someone come down the hallway.

I turned to see a short, balding man glaring at me. Serafim was right behind him, looking angry and worried all at once. The bald man said something in German, that sounded rude even to my ears.

"Mr. Bernard, I presume," was all I could think to say.

 

Chapter 46- Bernard ​

"Bernard Leitner," the man snapped in lieu of an introduction. "And you are the American from Quartetto."

I nodded. He had a thick German accent, but I could understand him well enough. In fact, I could almost hear the unspoken "ugly" before "American."

"I'm sorry, Brian," Serafim explained, "I thought he was in Vienna--"

"I was!" Bernard growled. "I came back because I knew you would be home! I have reservations at the Stiftskeller for dinner."

It was funny how such a tiny man could sound so commanding -- and it really was a command, telling Serafim to get ready to go. But I was proud to see that my angel stood his ground.

"You didn't tell me you were coming," he said, quite reasonably, "so I have... other plans."

Bernard went into a tirade in German that I couldn't follow, but I heard the soup bubbling and turned to shut off the heat. Serafim sounded very calm as he answered his long-time... lover? Captor? Patron, I decided. He'd called him his "uncle" in the TV interview, but I was reminded of the movie, "Pretty Woman," in which Julia Roberts admits, "He's not really my uncle," and a woman knowingly replies, "They never are."

I tried to listen to their conversation, but my German was nonexistent, so it was pointless. However, I did hear my name often, repeated in the phrase, "Ich liebe Brian," and saw that Bernard was getting more and more aggravated.

"Look," I broke in, "why don't you go have your dinner, and think things over? You can come back later and talk when you're calmer. Believe me, it's easy to say stuff you'll regret in the heat of an argument, so why don't you just... take a time out?"

Bernard looked at me incredulously, then became infuriated, his face flushing a dark, dangerous red.

"You--You dare tell me what to do?!? You Americans, you think you can just order us around...!"

He had to pause for breath, and Serafim jumped in.

"He is right, you are too angry to think now, so you should leave. Like I tell you, I love Brian, and want to be with him. We will be together, forever," he stated firmly, walking over to me, facing him defiantly. "You must accept this."

As I put my arm around Serafim, Bernard's fury turned vicious.

"After all I do for you! You would have been nothing -- dead, or worse -- if I didn't rescue you! I take you out of the orphanage, care for you, give you everything you want -- and this is how you repay me! You leave me for some... some..."

He sneered, trying to come up with a word vile enough to describe me, but Serafim cut him off.

"Brian is wonderful man! He loves me and takes good care of me! And he never force me! NEVER!"

Both Bernard and I were startled at his last word, which nearly came out as a scream.

"Yes, you give me things, but not a good home! You buy me clothes, food, and pay for school, but you hurt me every night! You--You RAPE me, for so many years!"

He finally broke down and started to cry, and I grabbed him and pulled him into my chest, holding him tightly as he shook from the violence of his sobs. Bernard looked horrorstruck.

"Johann... I--I loved you!" he cried. "I would never hurt you!"

Serafim almost choked as he responded, "You hurt me! You never love me! My body was okay, but you hurt my heart, so bad... I was too scared... I was only child..." he sobbed, trembling from head to toe.

"Johann! Mein Schätzchen," Bernard pleaded, his tone much softer now, "I took good care of you! I treat you like my own son, give you everything! I love you, Johann, you know that!"

"Would you have sex with your own son, too?" I put in, disgusted. He glared at me, but chose to ignore my comment.

"Johann, you liked me touching you! You said so, many times, and your body does not lie! You wanted me to love you!"

"I didn't want it! I didn't!" he protested. "I only say so because I was scared... you would hurt me, or send me back to orphanage, or throw me away! I had nobody to protect me, and you use me!"

"Schätzi! I would never 'throw you away,' never!" Bernard told him, and looked truly heartbroken that Johann would think that.

"No, no, of course not," Serafim said, with such sarcasm that it must have cut even deeper. "You would never let me go, not while you could touch me! I let you use my body, just so I could have place to live..." He buried his face in my t-shirt, and groaned, "I am whore!"

"Serafim, no!" I interrupted, shocked. "You were just a little kid! You didn't have a choice!"

He looked up at me, his cheeks wet with tears, his eyes anguished.

"I did have choice! I could have left, run away, go to police -- anything! But I didn't... I was too scared, and..." His voice cracked as he clenched my shirt. "I was too... comfortable! I liked living with rich man, having nice things. I didn't want to... give it all up."

I could understand that, but still, he had only been a child, and had become used to "having nice things" before he was old enough to make such a momentous decision. I rubbed his back, trying to calm him.

"Serafim, my angel... Do you remember what you're always telling me?"

"What?" he mumbled, confused.

"You're always telling me, I'm too hard on myself."

I tilted his face up with one hand, and kissed his tear-stained cheeks.

"I think you're being too hard on yourself, too. You were only a kid, and you didn't know what would happen to you if you left him. That's an impossible decision for a boy to make."

He gazed at me dubiously, but after a moment, he nodded.

"Maybe... But I am sorry I was... how you say... 'kept man,' for so long..."

"It's all right, it's not your fault," I told him, pulling him back into a bear hug. I saw Bernard looking at us with hurt, jealousy, and something else I couldn't fathom in his expression. I realized that he had been quiet for the past few minutes.

"Schätzchen, you... told him, your name? You told him... everything?" he asked, his tone subdued.

Serafim nodded, still pressed against my shoulder.

"Yes. He knows."

Bernard stared hard at us for a bit longer, then took a deep breath.

"I will leave you now. I see... you are serious, about this man. Perhaps."

Serafim twitched at the last word, and turned to insist, "I am serious! Brian, he... he is the one!"

"Like Franz? And Gerwig? Dieter? Niklas? Max?" Bernard shook his head sadly. "I have seen too many of your boyfriends, Schätzi, to believe you when you say this. But perhaps, this time, it will last longer. If it does not, I am always waiting for you, Mein Schätzchen, at my home. Your home, where you belong."

He moved toward the hallway to leave, then turned around and looked at me pointedly.

"You, American! Take good care of my boy," he ordered, catching me off guard. "If I find that you have hurt my Johann, you will regret it, I promise you!"

And having delivered his threat, he left before I could recover enough to reply.

I led Serafim to the couch, where I pulled him onto my lap to let him cry. I did the math, figuring that he was thirty-one now, so he'd been under Bernard's thumb for twenty years. That was a lot of emotional baggage, and not something he would be able to get over easily. My heart ached to think of all those years that he had been trapped, unable to break free, as that odious little man took advantage of him -- I couldn't even bear to think about Bernard "touching" my angel! It made me too angry, and right now I needed to be level-headed to help Serafim.

When he had settled down to just the occasional sob, after using up half of a box of tissues, he drew in a deep breath and sighed.

"I'm sorry. That was... harder, than I expected," he confessed.

"You don't have to apologize! I can't even imagine how hard that was," I said, tenderly kissing his forehead. "I'm so proud of you, for being brave and telling him to his face!"

"I had to," he quietly replied. "I needed him to know... how I really felt. That just because my body responded to him, didn't mean... I wanted him. He had to hear that from me, I think."

"He did seem shocked," I admitted. "I think... he might have really thought... you liked it. Or rather," I corrected, "he probably wanted to believe that -- wanted to so bad that he convinced himself you did."

"Yes... I think so. And I made it easy for him to believe, sometimes..."

I rubbed his back, wishing I could somehow make his pain go away. I hurt, too, knowing that I couldn't, but was determined to help him bear it, at least.

"Brian," he asked, softly, "don't you... want to know, about my... boyfriends?"

"What? Oh, the ones... Bernard mentioned?"

Serafim was very still in my arms, as though too frightened to answer.

"What's there to know? So, you had boyfriends. I had girlfriends, too, back in high school. It doesn't matter now."

He made a noise like a cross between a sob and a hiccough.

"You--You don't think... I was lying to you?" he asked, almost incredulously.

"Lying?!?" I frowned, leaning back to look at him. "About what?"

"That... that Bernard was the... only one... until you," he said, his face pale and drawn.

"No, of course not! You said you didn't let any of them 'touch' you, so why would I?" I truly hadn't even thought of that. "You didn't, did you?"

Serafim bit his lip, and seemed to be holding back tears again.

"No," he finally answered. "I never did. But Bernard... he didn't believe me. He once find me with a boy... a nice boy, from school, I liked... We were only kissing, but he sent home the boy with a letter to his parents. He--He never talk to me again..."

His voice cracked, and I could tell that this had been traumatic for him.

"I--I told Bernard, I didn't let him touch me, but... he didn't believe me... He... make me wash, with vinegar..."

I started, shocked. Serafim tried to regain control of his emotions as he continued.

"It... hurts, if you use vinegar, and you have cuts. It didn't hurt for me, because I... we didn't..." He swallowed. "But Bernard, he say it is because I am whore, and stretched out. He didn't believe me..."

He turned sad, imploring eyes to me and said, "How can he love me, when he didn't even believe me?!? So... that was when I know, he didn't love me..."

He shook his head. "After that, I make a lot of boyfriends... I never let them touch me, but... I tried to make Bernard... believe I did. To hurt him. To make him angry. And I wanted... I hoped, if he thought I was... dirty, that he wouldn't touch me, himself."

"It didn't work, did it?" I said, pulling him closer.

"No," he sighed.

 

Chapter 47- Enlightenment ​

After downing a bowl of soup each, we headed to bed, emotionally drained. Serafim burrowed into me, trying to get as close as he could, and I did my best to comfort him, stroking his hair and rubbing his back. He let out a sigh that was almost a whimper, and fell asleep in a minute.

My poor Serafim... All those years, he had struggled to find some way to make his tormentor stop molesting him, even if it meant risking punishment! I wondered if Bernard had seen through his ruse. I wondered if he thought I was a ruse. Well, I had no intention of leaving my angel, especially not to face that man alone! Perhaps it would take time to convince Bernard, but I would prove to him that this time, it was for real -- that Serafim would never go back to him again!

The strength of my conviction surprised me. Only a few months ago, I would never have dreamed myself capable of scoring a hottie like Serafim (or even wanting to sleep with a guy), much less having him in love with me! But now, not only were we lovers, but each other's emotional bedrock: I had weathered my storm with Michelle by thinking of him, and he had confronted his old demons -- almost a literal one -- by drawing on my presence for support. I still didn't know how he could have fallen in love with me, but had no doubt that he had; it was no longer a question of my qualifications, but my trust in his love. Once I took my eyes off of my own shortcomings, and looked at Serafim alone, it was easier to believe in myself. His confidence in me was giving me confidence!

In the dim light that came in from the window, I gazed at the outline of his sleeping face, and felt a stillness, a... sense of peace, quieting my soul. Yes, we would be all right. No matter what happened, as long as we stayed together, we would make it through. I pressed my lips to his forehead, hoping to impart some of that peacefulness, and heard him mumble my name. Smiling, I drifted off to sleep.

It was a rude awakening when my cell phone started ringing in the middle of the night. I had tucked it in my carry-on bag, so the sound was muffled, but it still woke us both up.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to shut it off," I apologized to Serafim, moving to get out of bed.

"Leave it," he said, nuzzling against my neck and slipping his hand under my t-shirt. "It will go to voice mail, right?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, distracted by his fingers making little circles on my skin. Wanting to return the favor, I slid my hands down and fondled his buns.

"H--Hey!" he chortled. "Those are my 'cheeks'!"

I grinned as I pushed him over and straddled him, kissing his facial cheeks as I told him, "No, those are my cheeks! And this one's mine, and this one, too! You're all mine now!"

He laughed, putting his hands on my hips.

"Okay, those are yours, but this is mine!"

I was startled as his hand reached into my shorts and grabbed my male organ. We'd had the "no touch" rule for so long that it still felt strange to have no holds barred. Not that I was complaining, of course!

"Yeah? So... what're you gonna do with it?" I asked. He was rubbing it lightly, teasing.

"Well... I was thinking, it's high time--"

He was interrupted by my phone ringing again. With a sinking feeling, I realized who it was.

"I'm sorry... that's probably Michelle. Diggs knows I'm here, so he wouldn't be calling in the middle of the night..."

I sighed, and didn't bother saying aloud that only Michelle would refuse to leave a message, and try calling again, if she thought there was the slightest chance that I might pick up.

"Hold that thought, okay?" I begged Serafim, as I grudgingly got out of bed and dragged myself out to the living room. It stopped ringing again, going to voice mail, but I knew she would try one more time. She did, and I answered.

"Hello?"

"Brian! Where are you?!?"

"...Salzburg, Austria. Where I told you I would be."

"Austria!?! You--You mean... you're with... Johann?"

"Well, yeah. That was the idea." Had I stuttered when I'd said that? "By the way, it's... three in the morning, here."

"So, that's it? You're... not coming home?"

I was confused by her even asking.

"Michelle, you're the one that said you didn't want to see me again! And I told you, I want to be with Johann. Remember? We had a big argument?"

I didn't mean to say it so sarcastically, but in my defense, she had not only woken me up but also interrupted something very... promising.

"Of course I remember! I just... I didn't think you were serious about... I mean, I know you, Brian! You're not gay!"

I sighed again. "Michelle, I didn't seem gay before because even I didn't realize I was, but I'm telling you now, I am so gay! If I'd tried it when I was younger, I'm sure I would've been hooked."

"So... you... you've slept with him? With a guy?!?"

"I have now! And in case you have any lingering doubts," I added, "it was heavenly!"

"I--I don't believe it!"

"Well, I really don't feel like going into all the gory details..."

"No! I don't want to hear about it! It's just... well, it's just so... not you!"

"Yeah," I conceded. "I can see why you'd think that."

There was a short pause, and I wondered why she had called to begin with.

"Hey, Michelle? Not to be rude, but was there a point to all this?"

"Well, I--I just thought... you might be ready, by now, to... to come home. I thought you might've... you know, changed your mind..."

"'Changed my mind'?" I echoed, incredulous.

"Yeah, and given up this whole... phase! I was... giving you time, to cool off and think about it."

"Michelle, I'm not a teenager. This isn't just a 'phase' I'm going through."

"But... but what about the baby?!? You can't just leave me to raise your baby -- our baby -- all by myself! And... I didn't think... you'd run straight to your... your boyfriend, the minute I told you that... that you were gonna be a father!"

I was beginning to comprehend her mindset, and if she had assumed that I was not gay, it might be reasonable to also assume that I was still thinking things over, perhaps at a hotel somewhere in New York.

"Michelle, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to run out on you the moment I learned about the baby. You know I wouldn't do that to you, let alone our kid, just because I didn't want the responsibility, right? I mean, I said some things that were really harsh, and I'm sorry, because I do want to be a father to this kid -- the best I can be -- but you have to understand, I'd already made up my mind, before I even walked in that door! It was just... bad timing. The worst possible timing, I know, and it's my fault, but I thought you understood that I'd already made my decision."

"So... that's it?" she said, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. "You're not coming back?"

I paused, and worded my reply carefully.

"Michelle, I love Johann and want to be with him. But I also want to be a father to our child. So if you'll let me come back to visit you, both of you, I would really appreciate it. But I won't be coming back as... as your husband. I'm sorry."

There must have been a million things she wanted to say, to scream at me. Maybe she was still in shock, but she didn't rant and rail like I half expected she would.

"Well. I hope you're very happy... fucking your man-whore!"

With a click, she hung up, leaving me angry with no way to retaliate. At least I wasn't stooping to call her back -- I knew that would only make things worse. I turned the phone to "Vibrate" mode and plodded back to the bedroom.

"What did she say?" Serafim worriedly asked me.

"You don't wanna know," I told him, crawling into bed. "Now, where were we?"

"Well... are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said, pressing close to him. I needed to feel him, share in his warmth, right now.

"Okay. I was just thinking... it was time to try... something different."

"Yeah? Like what?"

I couldn't see him smirking in the darkness, but I could hear it in his voice.

"Just lie back, and let me handle it."

While kissing my lips gently, he pushed me onto my back.

"Just... try to relax," he told me, starting to crawl down the covers, but the moment his hand pulled down my shorts, I stiffened, getting an inkling of what he was about to do.

"Wait, Serafim!" I called, as his hand brought my manhood to attention. Then I felt something soft and wet brush the tip, and gasped. "No, don't!!"

"What?" came his muffled question from down under. I lifted the covers so I could talk to him.

"Serafim, don't! It's... gross, and disgusting..."

"No, it's not!" he replied, and I sensed rather than saw his smile. "It's beautiful -- so big and strong, just like you!"

"But--But..." I stuttered, "it's dirty! I--I mean, it's unsanitary!"

"Brian! You just showered today, and washed again before supper! It isn't dirty, don't worry."

He was trying to soothe me like a small child, and considering my inexperience, perhaps it was fitting. He was also stroking my manhood in such a loving way that all my blood rushed to it.

"Please, Serafim," I tried to explain, "your lips shouldn't touch that! They should be kissed, and given strawberries and champagne, but not--not that!"

"Oh, Brian! You're so romantic," he chuckled. "But I want this part of you! You're mine, now, anyway, so I can do what I want, right?"

"Well..."

"I promise, I'll be gentle," he said, teasing me. I realized again that I would never be able to refuse him anything.

"Okay..." I answered meekly, leaning back on the pillows and gripping the covers for dear life. And dear life! What happened next nearly sent me into orbit.

With his lips, his tongue, and his fingers, he stroked, massaged, and suckled me like a popsicle. It was so embarrassing to envision, in the darkness, what he was doing from what I was feeling, that I almost begged him to stop again -- almost, but not quite. The warmth and wetness, as well as the tenderness with which he handled me, drove me to pant his name and moan shamelessly.

A random thought came to me: it was an episode of "Seinfeld" in which Elaine failed to convert a gay man by her charms. She complained that her competition was so familiar with a man's "equipment" that she really stood no chance. I had to agree -- Serafim certainly had a thorough knowledge of my "equipment" and was utilizing it with the utmost skill.

I couldn't even try to hold back as I reached my climax, spewing my milk into his welcoming mouth. As I gasped his name over and over, he licked the last of it off of my shrinking member, then crawled up to lie on my chest.

"This was your first blow job?"

"Yeah!"

He kissed my cheek and whispered, "I'm so glad I got two of your virginities!"

 

Chapter 48- Love Me Tender, Love Me Hard ​

After our exertions of the night, as well as the lingering effects of jet-lag, it wasn't surprising that we slept in late. I opened my blurry eyes to find Serafim looking down at me, propped up on his elbow.

"Did you sleep okay?" he asked, a smile curling the corners of his mouth.

"Like a rock!" I sighed. He bent down to kiss me, and I took the opportunity to pull him down on top of me.

"Brian... I was wondering," he said, snuggling so that his thigh rubbed against my ever-ready member. "You have so little... experience, with some things... How did you know, what to do, when we first... made love?"

I chuckled. "You know those stories Diggs printed for you, off the Internet?"

"Yes?"

"He gave me some, too. The naughty kind."

"Well." His tone was thoughtful, and mildly amused. "I'm not sure I can... approve, his giving you things like that... but you did stretch me out perfectly!"

I pressed myself against him, wantonly.

"Really? 'Cuz I was thinking... I need a lot more practice!"

He laughed, having known all along that I would want this.

"Practice makes perfect, right?" he teased, rolling away to grab the lube. "And I think... I'm a little... out of practice, too. What is the word for that?"

"Rusty," I told him, taking the tube and warming it under my armpit.

"Rusty, yes," he murmured, then got on all fours in a crouching position. When he pushed down his pajama bottoms, only his rear was exposed, sticking up into the air as if begging to be touched. How could I possibly refuse?

With a glop of lube on my finger, I started the process of opening his back door again. I felt like I would burst from excitement, and it seemed to take forever to even make it to two fingers, but he moaned and gave me encouraging words to make the time pass quicker.

"Oh, Brian! I love... having you... touch me! I... OH! Right there, so good! Mmm... I woke up, before you do, so... mmm... I clean -- Oh! Oh! -- I clean inside, already. I want you... inside, Brian, so bad!"

Listening to his sweet voice made me want to pierce him, own him, become one with him. Why couldn't our bodies simply meld together, so that we would be connected for good? Whenever I was inside of him, it felt so hot that I thought we would be fused together, so it was almost disappointing when we came apart. Right now I was just glad, though, that he wanted me to do exactly what I wanted to do most!

"Serafim," I cooed, adding some more lube to his entrance, "are you ready for one more?"

"Yesss!" he answered. When I inserted the third finger, he groaned and buried his face in a pillow. I would have pulled out, except that I could feel his body pushing against me, forcing my fingers in deeper. I rotated them in both directions, making sure he was completely loose, before taking them out and bringing my rod up to his entrance.

"Ready?"

"Oh, yes!"

I slowly pushed the tip in, enjoying the sensation of having it kissed by the ring of his skin, and as the thickest point slipped through, I was startled by how his body seemed to suck it in further of its own accord.

"Mmm! Brian!" he moaned. "Fuck me!"

"Serafim, my sweet angel," I chided, "I'll never fuck you! I'll only... make love to you..."

He gasped as my tip met the limit of my fingers.

"Okay... make love to me! Brian, love me hard!"

I could barely get enough air, he drove me so wild, but I pressed against the tighter area in quick jabs.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" he panted as I demanded to be let in all the way. Eventually I was, until my nuts were knocking on his door, too.

"Sera--fim! So good! So... sexy!" I managed, holding his hips as I pounded away. He writhed under me, then took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, his voice accented by my movements.

"AhhhAAAhhhAAAhhhAAAhhhAAAhhh..."

Realizing that he was pushing against me, too, so that there was little need to hold him, I reached under his stomach and found, to my surprise, that he was already leaking like a faucet!

"Serafim, do you like this? Does it... feel good?"

"Oh, YES! Ah, mon dieu, it feel so good! More, Brian! Harder!"

I couldn't help but comply, thrusting forcefully and deliberately. He cried out a mixture of French, German, and English, as I pumped his milk from both inside and out. He started to tremble, so I held myself still, buried deep inside of his hot body.

"AHHH! AHHH! AHHHHH!!!"

With each shout an extra spurt of milk shot out, and at the end he collapsed, his knees no longer able to support him. As hard as it was, my member slipped out of him, and I groaned at the loss of his warmth. But I wasn't done yet, and it occurred to me that I would rather see his face as I reached my climax.

"Serafim, do you mind...?" I asked, as I rolled him onto his back with his knees still bent.

"Brian... oh! I love you," he mumbled. I took that as a "Go ahead."

Guiding myself into him again, I bent down between his legs that were dangling in mid-air. He still looked like he was in a blissful haze, but a smile touched his lips as he focused on me.

"Mmm... Brian!" he sighed, as I worked like a piston inside his cylinder. His feet bounced with every move, and the bed creaked in protest, too, but my eyes were fixed on my angel's lovely face. I was holding myself up with my arms, which gave me great leverage, but remembered how he'd had me grab his shoulders before. It was hard to stop moving at this stage of the game, but I took the time to lower myself onto him, holding his shoulders in a tight embrace, and our lips met hungrily. As our tongues tangled, I resumed my quest for the summit, marveling at how wonderfully our bodies fit together -- so tight, so hot, and so... perfect!

He seemed to come out of the fog of euphoria as I reached the home stretch, and moaned sweet sounds into my ear as I clasped him, thrusting into him urgently. I could feel him tightening himself around me, spurring me on. As our love-making reached a fever pitch, I released myself into him with deep, hard thrusts, and my fluid flooded his canal, lubricating our final moves. I knew then that it wasn't just lust, but my love, passion, and very soul that I had poured into him.

"Serafim... my darling!" I breathed, still clutching him possessively.

"Brain! My love," he replied, kissing my cheek.

When we finally rolled out of bed, Serafim pulled me into the shower with him. I was completely spent, but it was still nice to look at him and touch him as we washed each other off. Once we were both dressed, we went over to his neighbor's to retrieve the mail they'd been keeping for him. He introduced me in German as the middle-aged lady looked me over with a critical eye, then said something that made him laugh.

"What?" I asked, a bit nervously.

"She say she like you better than the old, bald guy!" he explained. Grinning, I gave her a thumbs up.

There were two parcels that I carried back for him, one of which was the John Hancock Building model, and the other was much lighter. After he had made quick work of the regular mail, sorting them into bills or trash, he looked around the apartment for a good place to put the John Hancock.

"I think, maybe over there, by the window?" he said, pointing to an end table by the loveseat. I placed it there and he nodded. Then he opened the lighter box with a smile.

"Good, it get here safe," he said, satisfied, and pulled out a vase of dried flowers from the styrofoam packing. It took me a second to recognize the vase, as he blushed and set it on the coffee table.

"Serafim... are those...?"

"Yes," he answered simply. "Diggs dried them for me and sent them here."

He turned to give me a kiss, the sweetest one ever, to my mind. I had to remember to send him more roses in the future...

For lunch, we went to the Café Central Koffeehaus Bar, which was where he'd bought the food from the day before. It wasn't just "across the street" like he'd said, but actually on another street (with a long name I couldn't begin to pronounce) and down a good bit. He chose a table on the sidewalk, where we would be able to enjoy a view of the castle, and an older gent showed up right away.

"Johann! Sie haben ihren Freund geholt! [You've brought your friend!]"

"Yes, Guyon -- this is Brian, from my group," he deliberately answered in English. "He is staying with me during vacation."

Guyon's English capabilities were limited, so Johann interpreted as he asked me the usual questions and we ordered our brunch. It was beginning to be slightly chilly outside, as it was October already, but we both had on sweaters, and soaking in the mild sunlight made it perfect. Serafim -- or Johann, now -- explained that we could go to the supermarket to shop for most things, but the produce was better at the market across the river.

"It's a bit far... Are you up to walking?"

"If you're game, I'm game," I told him, finishing my coffee.

"Well, we can walk there, and take a taxi home, when we have our shopping with us," he decided, so we took a leisurely stroll down to the nearest bridge over the Salzach River, only looking in at the Mirabelle Gardens (which he promised we would visit some other time) and passing by some historical buildings.

I was amazed that the streets were lined with wall-to-wall buildings, in the sense that the buildings were built with absolutely no space in between them! It definitely had an old-world charm, but there was still a feeling of vitality, especially in the shopping district where stores vied for customers with eye-catching displays. Even the buildings themselves were painted various lively shades, forming a collage of color, with wrought-iron signposts hanging the stores' names on plaques.

It was still tourist season, apparently, so we were asked for our autographs several times, and not being in any hurry, we posed for photos, too. I noticed that a lot of the tourists were American, but not all by any means. Several of the shop tenders recognized Johann as well, and called out their greetings to him -- I couldn't understand the words, but could tell that their sentiments were more or less, "Welcome home!"

We had reached the market, which wasn't crowded yet, he explained, since most people were still at work, and he was picking out some peppers when we heard a voice cry out, "Johann!" delightedly. I turned to see a skinny guy with spiked black hair running up to us, beaming. He looked to be somewhat younger than Johann, and his tight-fitting clothes positively screamed "I'm gay!"

"Dieter!" Johann responded, and I thought I saw my angel turn pale.

 

Chapter 49- Encounter with Dieter ​

Before he had a chance to react, the guy Johann called Dieter grabbed him in a hug, jabbering away in German. He even tried to kiss his cheek, but Johann backed away suddenly, using the pretense of paying for the peppers still in his hands. Dieter couldn't take his eyes off of him, and while Johann was talking to the vendor, I saw him checking out my angel's buns. I suddenly got the urge to beat the snot out of Dieter.

"Dieter, this is my American friend, Brian," Johann said, and the guy seemed to notice me for the first time. Johann very subtly stepped closer to me, hinting that we were together. "He sings in Quartetto, too."

"Süsser!" Dieter exclaimed, unabashedly assessing me from head to toe. "Johann, you lucky devil! How come you get all the gorgeous men?!?" He touched my arm in a way that made me inwardly shudder. "I think I must go to America to find a man, too!"

Johann smiled amiably, if a bit nervously.

"So, how have you been? I haven't seen you since... well, in years!"

"I'm doing fabulous, I'm working at the Café Berg full-time now! I just came to get tomatoes, we're nearly out. But what about you?!? I've seen you everywhere, on TV and Internet -- how exciting!"

"Yes, it is. We're on vacation now, but next month we record our new album."

"Oh, Johann, how wonderful! I told all my friends to buy your first CD, it's absolutely marvelous! And so romantic -- it reminds me of the nights we spent at the Hotel Lehenerhof, hiding from your uncle!"

He laughed, batting his eyelashes at me, of all people! I could guess from the way that he looked at Johann, nearly drooling, that he must be a former boyfriend, but was it really appropriate -- in any culture, gay or otherwise -- to talk about past escapades in front of the current boyfriend?!? I noticed that Johann had turned a dark shade of red.

"You know, Brian," Dieter continued in a conspiratorial tone, "Johann looks like such the innocent, but he is so wild in bed! Insatiable, like an animal! I hope for your sake you're as strong as you look!"

My heart skipped a beat -- how on earth did he know what Serafim was like in bed?!? I swallowed once before answering, "We're doing all right."

"Dieter!" Johann began, trying to get a word in edgewise, but the guy wasn't deterred.

"My new beau, Stefan, is away in Munich for a few days -- maybe we should get together for a little... ménage à trois? A special little something for your friend?"

He giggled, but I got the feeling that he was dead serious, or as serious as he ever was about anything.

"I'm sorry, Dieter, but we are both very tired, from all the traveling we do on tour," Johann replied, politely but firmly. "We just want to spend some time... alone."

Dieter pouted, attempting to look cute. "Aw, Schnuckel, don't be such a prude! You know we'll have fun, we always do! And I promise I won't take your big Süsser away from you!"

"As if," I said, without thinking. Dieter looked shocked, which had to be an accomplishment of sorts.

"Well, aren't you the loyal puppy!" he retorted, recovering quickly. "But if you ever want to spice up your life, I'd can teach you a few tricks! I know what turns on our little Schnuckel -- maybe even a few new tricks you've never seen before!"

He still had the audacity to try to seduce me, but Johann finally had enough. I had never seen my angel so furious!

"Dieter, just get your tomatoes and go," he stated, his voice controlled, but only barely. "We have much shopping to do. Goodbye!"

"Well, if you're so scared of someone stealing your puppy," Dieter snorted, "you should do for him what you did for Niklas! I'm sure it'll drive him crazy!"

"Dieter, what are you talking about?!?" Johann demanded, thoroughly exasperated.

"Oh, Schnuckel, don't play innocent with me! I know you!" Dieter smirked. "Have fun shopping! Auf Wiedersehen, Süsser!"

His last comment was meant for me, but I sincerely hoped that I would never run into him again. We watched him walk to the tomato vendor with his hips swinging, feeling more than a little stunned.

When Johann turned to me, I was startled to see tears in his eyes.

"Brian, I don't understand... We never...! I--I just don't know, why he say those things..."

"Shhh, it's all right," I soothed, pulling him away from the vendor's table by his elbow. I could tell he was close to breaking down.

"He--He came, to Bernard's house, when I still live there. I said he was my boyfriend, but... we never! I mean, I stay at the Lehenerhof, too, when I was mad at Bernard, and Dieter, he brought me food, but... I never let him touch me! We never even kissed!"

"Well, maybe he... wants to believe you did," I suggested. "Or he could be drunk, or high..."

Johann was gazing at me, his eyes searching desperately for something.

"You... You believe me? You don't think..."

"Johann!" I replied, more concerned for him than anything else. "I love you! That's all that matters, okay? Even if you had a thousand boyfriends, and slept with all of them, I don't care! I still want to be with you, now and forever!"

"But--But you think, I lie to you?!?" he cried.

I looked deep into his beautiful brown eyes, brimming with tears, and saw the anguish there. I remembered that when Bernard hadn't believed him, it revealed to Johann that he didn't love him. If I didn't trust him now, wouldn't it mean that I didn't love him, either, any more than Bernard had?

"Johann, I believe you. If you say you never slept with him, you never did." I glanced up at Dieter's spiky head, now distant, then said more confidently, "Anyway, why would I believe someone I've never met before, rather than you? Especially him?!?"

I said it in the hopes of making my angel laugh. Instead, he broke down and sobbed into the bag of peppers. I pulled him close, bag and all, without stopping to consider the possible consequences. With my arms around his shoulders, he seemed to calm down, then suddenly jerked away with a start.

"Brian! We mustn't--!"

"Oh, to hell with Leo!" I growled, but reluctantly let him go. He digged in his pockets for a handkerchief, and once his face was dry, we went through the rest of the market. The vendor he had bought the peppers from frowned at us, but the old woman in the next stand insisted on giving us an extra onion with our bag of potatoes.

When we got home with the groceries, Johann chopped some of the meat and vegetables for a stew, which he planned to simmer slowly for dinner. I helped, but only in the sense that I took out some leftovers from the fridge and dumped them into the pot. Then, not wanting to get in the way, I sat on one of the bar stools on the other side of the counter and just watched him.

It seemed like such a homey thing for him to be cooking, and I felt a happiness and satisfaction that I couldn't remember ever feeling with Michelle -- perhaps because she avoided cooking when at all possible. Even with my "survival" cooking skills, I'd still made more than my fair share of breakfasts, simply because I couldn't function on only a cold bowl of cereal. After all, singing required stamina!

The aroma of good food started wafting through the kitchen, as Johann finished the preparations with deft, efficient movements. While he washed the cutting board, I had a lovely view of his backside, and thought to myself: He's beautiful, and he can cook!

"I'm the luckiest guy alive," I sighed.

"What?"

He turned to me, a half-smile already forming on his face.

"You're just... amazing!"

He laughed.

"Wait until you taste the stew, first! It might not be so good."

"No, I mean... you're just so... perfect! And I'm so lucky..."

He leaned across the counter and cupped my face in his hands.

"No, I'm the lucky one!" he insisted, and kissed me lightly.

"If you say so," I mumbled, not caring to disagree with him on anything. "Just promise me you'll never change -- always be my sweet angel, okay?"

"Okay." His eyes danced with mischief. "But does that mean I can't have fifteen earrings?"

I knew immediately that he was thinking of Dieter.

"Is that how many he has? I couldn't count!"

"I think so, if he hasn't added more... He has piercings all over!" Johann shuddered. "I can't stand to think of even one!"

"Well, I'll never ask you to get pierced, so don't worry," I told him. "I would never want you to do anything to hurt that perfect body!"

He smiled happily, then took my hands and pulled me from the stool.

"Come, rest with me!" he said, leading me to the leather loveseat that faced the window. He sat and propped his feet up on the matching ottoman, so I followed suit, wrapping one arm around him. The sun was getting lower, its light not coming into the apartment directly anymore, but reflecting off of the buildings across the river. The fortress was also taking on an orange hue from the changing light.

Johann snuggled against me, wanting to be even closer, so I picked him up and sat him down on my lap, as he cried out in surprise.

"Aren't I heavy?" he asked, alarmed.

"Hardly!" I assured him, shifting his weight to a more comfortable position. "Just lie back, you'll be fine."

He did as I said, contentedly resting his head on my shoulder, and he really didn't seem to weigh much at all. I wrapped my hands around his middle, and he placed his own over them.

"Brian... What happened... to your wedding ring?"

"Oh, that? I left it with Michelle, with my key to the apartment. I didn't need them anymore..."

He played with my fingers for a moment, thinking.

"I want to make a key for you, to this apartment."

"What for? I'm not going anywhere without you..."

He kissed my jaw gently before answering.

"Just... because."

And I understood -- he wanted something tangible to show that I belonged here.

"Okay. But on one condition."

"Condition? What?"

"I get to pay half of the rent!"

He furrowed his eyebrows.

"Brian, you don't have to! I pay for this place, anyway."

"Yeah, but I'm living here, too, now."

"Yes, but..." He struggled to express himself. "I don't want you to! You... have to pay your wife, to make sure she is okay, right?"

"Well, yeah..."

"And it's very expensive in New York, right?"

"Well, yeah..."

"And Brian, I know you want to take care of me, but..." He turned to face me. "Sometimes, I want to take care of you!"

I considered what he was saying. The difficulty lay, I figured, in the fact that he was a man, too, and wanted to wear the trousers sometimes.

"Okay. But then, you have to let me pay for the food!"

"What? Why?!?"

"Because you cook, and seriously, you don't want me to!" I laughed.

Johann weighed this compromise for a moment.

"Okay. Deal!"

So we kissed on it.

 

Chapter 50- Not So Rusty Violin ​

The stew turned out delicious, as I'd expected, and over dinner we discussed finances. It may seem terribly unromantic, but it was another step in solidifying our relationship as a couple. It turned out that Diggs had set up my new account at the same bank as Johann's, making it easy to have a certain amount automatically transferred from mine to his every month. There was a branch office within walking distance, so in the morning when they were open, I planned on setting up the transfer, converting the rest of my cash into Euros, and making a withdrawal for spending money. While we were on the topic, Johann suggested that I get a new suit made by his tailor.

"The ones you have now, they don't fit you very good," he said. "I think with better cut, you will look much better!"

"Well, I wasn't planning on it, but it's probably a good idea," I said, munching my vinaigrette salad. "Especially since we've been doing so many interviews! I hate to keep wearing the same thing over and over..."

"Then, we can go shopping tomorrow. I want to buy some new towels, too," he commented. "I think I'll get blue for you, and green for me."

"His and His!" I said, cracking myself up.

"What?" Johann asked, looking puzzled, so I explained.

"In the States, when a couple gets married, they usually get a set of towels with 'His' on half of them and 'Hers' on the other. But in our case, it would have to be 'His' and 'His'!"

"Oh! Okay, I get it," he smiled, blushing delicately. He chewed a bite of his bread quietly, mulling something over. "Brian... if you don't mind..."

"Hmm?"

"I was wondering, if... if you would like to..."

He seemed strangely hesitant, blushing an even deeper shade as he looked down at his plate.

"What is it, Mein Engel?" I gently prodded him.

"Well..." He drew a deep breath. "Since you don't have your... your wedding ring, anymore, I just thought... that is, it would be nice if... if you would like to... I wonder if we could get matching rings!"

It took me a second to figure out what he meant, especially since he'd blurted out the last bit all in one breath. When it dawned on me, I dropped my spoon on the floor.

"Sorry! I--I'm such a klutz," I said, getting out of my chair to fetch it. Then it occurred to me that I was already on the floor, so after putting the spoon on the table, I crawled on my knees over to his chair and took both of his hands in mine.

"Johann -- Serafim, I would love to have matching rings with you!" I told him, kissing his knuckles. I felt like I could have crawled to Mecca and back, just to see his overjoyed smile.

Serafim pulled the curtains across the windows when we had finished cleaning up after dinner. I wasn't sure what he wanted to do, as it was too early to go to bed, and not a good idea to make love on full stomachs.

"Brian... I want to show you something," he said shyly, leading me into the office. I'd not been in this room before, and looked around curiously. There was a corner desk on the left, with a computer, and some shelves on the right. He went to a large chest of drawers and pulled out something from the top drawer -- a violin case!

"I didn't know you played!"

"Not very well, yet, but I practice. I like how it sounds."

I thought of Michelle for a moment -- the other violinist in my life. Was there something about them that subconsciously attracted me? I shook my head, bemused. At least we all had music in common!

We went back out to the living room, where I sat on the couch and watched him tune the instrument. I could tell that he had missed it from the loving way he handled it.

"I'm a little... 'rusty,' was it?"

"Yeah. Why didn't you bring it with you on tour?"

"I didn't think I have time to practice, and in hotel rooms... well, I can't be noisy!"

When he was satisfied that it was in tune, he started playing a familiar piece that I couldn't remember the name of. It was melodic and beautiful, and I closed my eyes to listen to it better.

"That was 'Air on G String,' by the man I was named for," he explained when he was done.

"Johann Sebastian Bach," I supplied. "And you sure don't sound rusty to me!"

"Thank you," he bowed, as if to an audience of one. "I never have not played for so long! I was worried I would forget how..."

He touched the bow to the strings again, this time for Franz Liszt's "Liebestraume," followed by Chopin's moving "Etude No. 3" -- both of them perfectly executed, and from memory! I'd always thought highly of Michelle's playing, but considering that Serafim was doing this after two months of no practice at all, I was forced to reevaluate my standards. Perhaps, a tiny voice inside of me hinted, Michelle's musical career hadn't done so well because she simply wasn't as talented as some other people. I sighed, letting the pure sounds created by my angel's hands wash over me. Europe was the birthplace of the musicians and the craftsmen who had made the instruments, after all, so the depth of talent had to be deeper here than anywhere else in the world.

I felt privileged to be admitted to a private concert, as my angel played song after song by heart. Two of them were from our first album -- "Moonlight Serenade" and "It's Impossible" -- and I couldn't help humming along a bit.

"You can sing if you like -- it won't distract me," he assured me, tweaking one string ever so slightly.

"Okay. But I'm enjoying just listening for a change," I told him.

The next song he started playing was "I Can't Help Falling in Love with You," though, so I took his previous comment as a hint that he wanted to hear me sing it.

Wise men say,
"Only fools rush in."
But I can't help falling in love with you.

Shall I stay?
Would it be a sin
If I can't help falling in love with you?

Like a river flows
Surely to the sea,
Darling so it goes --
Some things are meant to be!

Take my hand,
Take my whole life too --
For I can't help falling in love with you!

"I love hearing your voice," he confessed when the song ended.

"I love hearing yours," I replied. "Too bad you can't play and sing at the same time!"

He laughed, then started playing another song. It was one we had never sung for Quartetto, but so famous that I knew the words, anyway. I also knew that he was playing it for me, and I wanted to sing it for him, too!

When I fall in love, it will be forever,
Or I'll never fall in love!
In a restless world, like this is,
Love is ended before it's begun,
And too many moonlight kisses
Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun.

When I give my heart, it will be completely,
Or I'll never give my heart!
And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too
Is when I fall in love with you!

I stood up as we repeated the chorus, and as the last note faded away, I leaned in to kiss my angel's cheek.

"My sentiments exactly!" I whispered in his ear. He blushed.

"Me, too!"

Our lovemaking that night was slow and sweet, since we had finally worked off our pent-up needs from the tour, and were able to really savor the act of love. We slipped under the covers naked after showering together, and Serafim dove head-first down towards my nether regions to tend to my already eager member. Since he was crouched over my torso, I had easy access to his back door, and was able to lube and stretch him while he took my manhood tantalizingly close to the brink.

"I... think I'm ready," he said, coming up for air.

"You sure? I only got to two fingers..." I cautioned.

"I want it tight, tonight," he explained, straddling my hips. "Let me do the moving, and it won't hurt me."

"Oh! Okay..."

It was rather unusual to have him take the lead, but as he impaled himself on me, I had a great view of where we were joined, as well as of his erect member. When he started to move, it bounced, and I couldn't help taking it in my hands and rubbing it. He moaned and arched his back, so I must have done something right!

He leaned back between my legs to support himself on his arms, but I was struck with rare inspiration.

"Wait, here -- use my legs!"

I bent my knees so that he had a pair of natural armrests, and using them for leverage, he was able to slide up and down my length freely. I had been close to exploding, but at the slow tempo he set, it was some time before I emptied myself into him. He followed when he took his member into his own hands, and once finished, he lay down on my chest, our bodies still woven together.

I told him, "You're so beautiful!" as I kissed his cheek.

He touched my face with his fingertips, pondering something, then quietly asked, "You really think so?"

"Of course! I know so! Serafim, even if I weren't utterly, completely, and totally in love with you," I said, punctuating my words with kisses all along his face, "as an objective judge, I would have to admit that you're beautiful! Anybody would!"

He closed his eyes, so I kissed them, too.

"But Brian... what if... what about, when I get old and ugly?"

"Oh, Serafim!" I laughed, "Even if you get old and wrinkled, and go completely bald, you would never be ugly!"

"No?" he asked, somewhat surprised.

"No, never!" I said with conviction. "You'll always be my beautiful angel!"

He still seemed dubious, so I thought for a moment how to explain it to him.

"Say you were in some terrible accident, and your face was horribly disfigured -- I hope nothing like that ever happens, of course -- but even so, it wouldn't change how I feel about you! I know how beautiful you are, not just on the outside, but on the inside."

"On the... inside?" he repeated, seeming confused.

"Yeah! You're sweet, and thoughtful, and caring... You're always trying to make things better, to make the people around you happy. And really, if you think about it," I added soberly, "considering how you were... not raised, but treated, growing up... that's really amazing! That you can still be so positive, and be nice to people, even when some people have been horrible to you... That shows your character -- who you really are inside."

"Oh! I understand now," he said, and I thought I detected a flush creeping up his neck.

"You'd never heard that expression before?"

"No. And I... I was thinking... well, something more... literal."

For a second, I wondered what he meant, and when it hit me I burst out laughing.

"I think you're pretty amazing inside there, too!" I teased, pushing my hips up against his.

"Bri~a~n!" he blushed. He was so cute, I just had to kiss him again.

 

Chapter 51- Running Errands ​

We got up at a decent hour the next morning, "touched" each other in the shower for a quick fix, and after a breakfast of omelette (cooked by Serafim) and toast (buttered by me) we headed out to the bank. It was colder today, and cloudy, so I pulled on my parka and admired how dashing Serafim looked in his navy blue pea coat and white scarf.

We nearly had an argument at the bank over the amount to be deposited into his account, since I wanted to put in more and he insisted that he needed less than that, but in the end I won by pointing out that I would also be needing household supplies like soap, shampoo, and laundry detergent. He grudgingly agreed, making a proviso that he would henceforth pay for all of the groceries. The bank teller didn't seem to understand English very well, for which I was grateful.

Since the wind was picking up, we walked briskly to the tailor's, where I was introduced to a wizened old man with pure white hair. He measured me carefully, doing my upper arms and torso twice to make sure that he gave me "plenty movement" in the jacket. Johann picked out the fabric, a deep blue that was brighter than navy, which would be wearable in all but the hottest weather. Having never had a suit tailored just for me -- I'd always bought them off the rack and had them altered -- I was pleasantly surprised to find that the price was not much higher than what I'd paid in the past. He promised to have it done in two weeks, in time for our next recording session (and several interviews) in London.

"So, where to next?" I asked as we stepped out into the cold wind.

"Well, do you want to..." Johann hesitated.

"Yes, I do," I answered, immediately and seriously. I knew what it was that he wanted to ask, since only one thing had made him so reluctant before. He looked up at me, caught off guard.

"You do?" he echoed. "But I didn't even say..."

"Hey, give me some credit," I interrupted. "I haven't been with you all this time for nothing! The only question is, which jeweller do you want to go to?"

He blushed and couldn't speak for a moment, then managed, "There is nice one near here, but Bernard knows the proprietor..."

"Do you think he'll be in there right now?"

"No, probably not..."

"Are you afraid of him finding out about us? About our rings?"

"Afraid? No!" he replied, firmly. "It's just... the people there, they know about Bernard and... and me. He buy me -- bought me, some nice things there."

I pondered this a moment, and moved to stand so that I was blocking Johann from the wind.

"Would you rather go somewhere else? Somewhere new, where you don't have any... memories?"

He slowly nodded. "Yes. I think that is better. There is another shop, near the train station, and that is close to the store for towels."

"Okay then, let's go there."

We took a cab to the jeweller's, and I caught a glimpse of the clerks talking excitedly, their eyes open wide, as I opened the door for Johann. They recovered themselves with admirable speed and one of them, an older woman with her hair up in a bun, asked him politely in German what he was looking for (I assumed). When he told her, her eyebrows shot up for an instant, but she turned and led us to the display case for men's jewelry. She made some remark and pointed to another case on the other side, which I glanced at and realized was the selection of actual wedding bands and engagement rings.

"What, don't they have 'His and His' sets?" I whispered to Johann in mock surprise. He laughed, and I thought the woman waiting on us might have heard me, too. Ah, well -- I couldn't think of any plausible excuse why two grown men would want to buy matching rings, anyway!

Most of the rings were chunky, indelicate things that I couldn't imagine would flatter my hand, let alone Johann's slender fingers, but we finally came upon a silver one that was creased to look like three rows, with seven tiny diamonds set in the middle row. On either end of the diamonds was a strip running perpendicularly across the ring, giving it a squarer look and a more masculine feel.

"I think that's the one, don't you?" I asked. We exchanged a glance that spoke volumes.

"Yes, I think so," he agreed, then said something to the clerk. She took it out of the case and presented it to him.

"It's too big for me," he said, taking my left hand before I could protest. "You try it on first!"

He slipped it on my ring finger, where it fit perfectly. I thought to myself that it must be the same size as my old wedding band, but didn't feel the need to mention it.

"Yes, I think this is the one," Johann said, smiling, as he looked at it from different angles.

"Here, you should try it on, too," I said, pulling it off and grabbing his left hand. It was too loose on him, but at least we could get an idea of how it would look. It was the perfect balance between masculine and feminine, and I thought it was a nice accent to his delicate hands.

The clerk brought out a tool with loops of all the different ring sizes, trying them on Johann's finger to find his size. They were chatting in German the whole time, so I had no idea what they were saying, until she took the price tag off and went back to the register.

"They will order another one for me, but this one is just right for you," Johann explained, putting the ring back on my finger, "so we will take this one today."

The clerk came back with a bill of sale, and both of us reached for our wallets.

"Johann, no, I'll get this--" I started, but the clerk took Johann's credit card without even looking at me.

"I tell her not to let you pay for this," Johann said, with a very smug look on his cherubic face. "I was the one who wanted this, so I will pay!"

I gaped at him, shocked at how sly my little angel could be!

"Well, in that case," I grumbled, still not wanting to admit defeat, "when yours comes in, I'm paying for that one, at least!"

"No, you're not," Johann countered, cheekily. "I tell her not to take your money for any of this."

I glowered at him, arms akimbo.

"Johann, I can let you buy my ring, but only if you let me buy yours! If not, I'll... I'll kiss you right here! And tell them to take pictures, and send them to Leo!"

Johann laughed at what he supposed was an empty threat, but he squeaked when I took his face in both of my hands -- one now significantly more accessorized than the other. I gave him the most intimidating scowl I could muster.

"Brian! You--You can't!"

"I can and I will, if you don't let me buy your ring!"

"Okay! Okay! Please, don't be mad at me! I just... I just wanted to..."

He stopped, his voice caught in his throat. I immediately released his face, worried that I might have actually frightened him.

"It's okay, Johann, if you want to do this for us, I don't mind! It doesn't matter!"

He nodded, but was still biting his lip, as if to keep it from trembling.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, a bit panicked. "I was only joking! I'm sorry..."

Before I realized it myself, I was pulling him close, and he suddenly gasped and flung his arms around me, holding me so tightly that for a second I lost my breath.

Of all the awkward moments, the clerk had to come back right then with the receipt and a pen to sign it with. Her mouth dropped open in shock.

"I'm sorry, could you give us a moment?" I asked her, hoping she understood English enough. She nodded, leaving the receipt and pen on the counter before retreating to the back of the store -- where, no doubt, she would gossip with the other clerks.

"Johann, I'm so sorry... Are you all right?" I asked, kissing the top of his head.

"No... don't be sorry! I'm sorry, Brian," he answered, finally disengaging himself from me. "It's just... I was scared..."

"Johann!" I said, heartbroken. "I would never hurt you!"

"Oh! Brian!" he cried. "I was not scared you hurt me! No, never! I know you wouldn't!"

"Oh," I managed, relieved but confused. "Then... what were you scared of?"

He took both of my hands in his, looking at the new ring that shone on my finger.

"I... I know you're not... him," he said -- and I knew he meant Bernard -- "but sometimes, I... I forget."

He took a deep breath.

"He didn't like it when... I make decisions, do things I want to do... He said I was being rebel--rebellious, even when I refuse to let him do things for me. So I... I was scared that... if I push what I want, too hard... you would be angry, too."

"Serafim!" I whispered, shocked and horrified. "I would never be angry with you for something like that! If you want so much to do this, I... I just need to shut up and let you do this! And thank you," I added, pulling his hands up to kiss them.

"You--You're not angry?" he queried, his eyes still slightly misty.

"Of course not!" I assured him. "I'm just... not used to being taken care of, that's all!"

His fair skin blushed even darker.

"Well... I hope you get used to it!" he declared softly.

"Yeah," I agreed. "But you're still gonna get kissed for this!"

Before he could protest, I brushed his lips with mine. We both heard what sounded like squeals coming from the back room.

"I guess the cat's out of the bag," I mumbled.

"We're out of the closet," he sighed, then giggled, "Poor Leo!"

The towel store, which actually sold all kinds of linens, was just a stone's throw away from the jewelry store. The display window sported a plethora of pink, so I'd entered with trepidation, but Johann led me to the back where the more everyday things were stacked.

"Do you like this blue, or this?" he asked, pointing to two very similar colors.

"Um... You decide!" I answered.

He chose the lighter blue, and picked a green that would complement it for himself. As we were hauling the two sets of towels to the register, he suddenly stopped and stared at one of their displays -- it was a bedroom set, with matching sheets and a comforter, all in a blue and green brushed pattern that matched our towels exactly!

"Oh! I have to get that!" he said, sucked towards the display like there was a powerful magnet hidden in the covers.

"This way," he told me under his breath, "we can make as much mess as we want, and can switch the sheets!"

I had to agree, that was a perfectly logical reason to have extra sheets!

 

Chapter 52- Fun with Laundry ​

We got home and Johann fixed us a quick lunch while I stripped the bed and sorted our laundry into whites, colors, darks, and linens. There was quite a pile between the two of us, even though I'd just had my laundry done at the hotel in New York. Johann insisted on washing the new sheets before using them, so I suggested we do those first -- "So we can test them out while we wait for the other stuff." He gave me a slap on the rear for that comment, and I pretended to be gravely injured, just to hear him laugh.

The laundry room was on the first floor, but feeling more energetic today after adjusting to the time difference, I dragged Johann down the stairs instead of taking the elevator. I did, however, carry the bulk of the laundry. Luckily, there were two machines available, so we started two loads before heading back up. I was following Johann, looking at his buns going up the stairs, and simply couldn't help myself -- after checking that nobody was out in the halls, I grabbed them in a double-fisted squeeze. He yelped, almost tripping as he whirled around at me.

"Bri~a~n!" he wailed in disbelief.

"What? What'd you expect?!?" I said, pulling him into my arms, laughing. "You shouldn't shake your booty in front of a hungry wolf!"

"You're hungry already?" he mocked, knowing full well what I meant. "You have such large... appetite!"

I couldn't believe how dirty he'd made that sound!

"I'm very hungry," I told him, trying to get a kiss, but he got away and scampered up the last two sets of stairs. I caught up with him easily, and waited until he'd gotten through the door of the apartment before grabbing him and crushing him against the wall with my belated kiss. I moved my lips over to his cheek to let him breathe and rubbed my hands down his hips.

"Brian... stop! We--We can't start, not now!" he pleaded. "I have to set timer, for... twenty minutes..."

"The laundry won't go anywhere," I whispered in his ear, then nibbled on his dainty earlobe. He squeaked in surprise, starting to push me away in earnest.

"Really, Brian, we can't! We have to get them out on time, because someone might need the machines."

"Oh, all right," I grumbled, finally letting him go. He was still panting, and I was fairly sure that it wasn't only from running up the stairs. He smiled apologetically and gave me a peck on the cheek.

"I'm sorry, I just... don't want to rush."

I made an exaggerated sigh and collapsed, dejected, onto the couch. As he went to set the timer on the microwave, I asked, "So, what do we do while we wait?"

"Well," he said, coming over to sit at the other end of the couch, lounging in a most inviting way, "I usually listen to music or watch TV. What do you want to do?"

"You already know what I want to do," I said petulantly, crawling over to lean against him, resting my head on his chest.

"Awww, poor baby," he crooned, in a teasing tone.

When he combed his fingers through my hair, though, I couldn't help but relax. He started to pet me with both hands, and I thought to myself, this was the life! I could definitely get used to being pampered! And it was so nice, for a change, to have someone want to take care of me. I couldn't think of anyone, other than my mother, who had coddled me like this... not even Michelle!

"Johann, my angel," I murmured, "you should be careful about spoiling me! I might get used to it."

"That's okay," he said, decidedly. "You need to be spoiled more!"

"No argument here," I replied, taking one of his hands to kiss it. We snuggled until the timer went off.

After the next trip down, Johann very deliberately made me go up the stairs first, and once we were both back in the apartment, I felt a pair of palms squeezing my buns this time.

"Hey! I thought you didn't wanna start anything now!" I protested.

"I don't. I just wondered... what yours feel like," he replied with almost scientific interest. "They're much harder than mine."

"Well, yeah," I agreed. "I've been working out my thighs, so it's sort of a natural byproduct."

"Maybe we can go to gym here," he suggested, now rubbing my biceps admiringly. "You can help me work out, too, so I can be stronger."

"Okay," I promised, pulling him back onto the couch after me, making him sit across my lap. "But I don't want to pump you up too much -- you're perfect, just the way you are!"

He blushed crimson, and buried his face in my shoulder. I was contentedly rubbing his back and side, enjoying the warmth of his body against mine, when I felt him sigh.

"What is it, angel?" I asked, unsure whether I'd said something wrong or if he were simply tired.

"Nothing. Just..."

He sighed again, then sat up to look at me. He was so much shorter in the torso than me, that as he sat on my lap, we were exactly eye-to-eye.

"It's just hard, sometimes, because... well, Bernard... he used to say the same thing."

I felt a lump in my throat.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to remind you of him!"

"I know!" he assured me, pressing his cheek against mine. "It's not your fault, please!"

I held him tightly, thinking for a moment.

"Bernard was right, though," I finally said. "You are perfect! You're beautiful, and you're wonderful..."

He trembled slightly in my arms, but only clung to me tighter.

"I can't help saying it, because it's true, and... when I tell you I love you," I said, kissing his cheek briefly, "that's true, too!"

Johann tilted his head away and gazed into my eyes.

"Tell me you love me," he whispered, his lips quivering.

"I love you," I told him, kissing him tenderly. "I love you, Johann... I love you, Serafim!"

Two tears started rolling down his cheeks, and I kissed them away quickly.

"I love you, my angel!"

"Brian... I love you!" he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

I pulled him as close as I could and kept my arms wrapped around him, while he also slipped his arms around my neck. We sat that way until it was time to go do the laundry again.

I'd never considered doing the laundry to be anything other than a tedious household chore, but with Serafim, it was actually kind of fun. We folded the sheets down in the laundry room, each of us grabbing an end and walking towards each other. Then we hauled them up along with the darks in his large plastic baskets and spread them out on the coffee table, trying to figure out which was whose -- sorting twenty pairs of black socks was like working on a puzzle! Halfway through, I stole a couple of his and hid them, so when we had paired up everything else, he worried that he'd left those behind at a hotel. I couldn't keep a straight face as I pulled them out from behind me to give them back. Naturally, he swatted me with them, then I had to retaliate with a pair of mine, and after a silly sock war we both collapsed into giggles.

"Oh, Brian!" he gasped, trying to catch his breath.

"Oh, Serafim! Oh, cherubim! Oh, angel divine!" I said in a sing-song, kissing one of his cheeks.

"Stop!" he laughed. "I have to go make room in my drawers for your things!"

"I'll help," I offered, inwardly planning to be as much of a hindrance and nuisance as possible, as I followed him into the bedroom.

"I have all my summer things in here," he explained, pulling open one of the two identical chest-of-drawers and removing some t-shirts. "We can put them in the guest bedroom, and your warm weather clothes, too."

"We have a guest bedroom?" I asked, surprised.

"Of course we do! The room over--" Serafim broke off, suddenly realizing something. "Brian! I never show you that room!"

"What room?" I teased, pulling out a stack of polo shirts from the drawer.

"The guest bedroom, of course," he said, grabbing my elbow. "Over here!"

I had assumed that the door across the hall from the bedroom led to a storage room, but was surprised to find it completely furnished with a bed, dresser, and small desk with a chair. There was even a full bathroom adjacent to it, although not as big as the master bathroom. The towels and bedding were a matching shade of pale lavender.

"Wow! This is nice," I said, looking around.

"Thank you," he said, a bit hesitant. "This is the bedroom set I bought."

I looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

He placed his stack of shirts on the dresser, and sat on the edge of the bed. I followed suit, instinctively putting my arm around his shoulders.

"The other set -- the big bed, and dressers, in the other room -- that is what Bernard bought for me," he explained, and swallowed hard. "He... He expected, when I moved out of his house, that he can... come here, and stay with me, sometimes."

I rubbed his shoulder gently as he struggled to talk about it.

"I told him no, I need a place for just myself, a... a safe place. He thinks it is because... I want to be with my boyfriends. But... he already bought the big bed, so he gave it to me, anyway. And sometimes, he try to make me... sleep with him, even here. But I told him, if he wants to have sex, I will go to his house."

Serafim drew a deep breath, then faced me with a trace of sadness in his beautiful brown eyes.

"That was before I met you! And... I'm so glad, I never let him touch me, here! This can be our place, and... I feel so safe, when I'm with you!"

"Serafim..."

I held him close, and he nuzzled against me with a contented sigh. After a moment, I lay back across the bed, pulling him with me, and we simply lay there, appreciating the fact that we were together, until the timer went off again.

As we brought up the last two loads of finished laundry, we heard the phone ringing in the apartment. Serafim answered it with some trepidation, wondering if it were Bernard. He relaxed immediately and started talking in English.

"Yes, we're fine! Today we do laundry," he said, relief evident in the way he smiled. "Brian? Okay..." He handed me the receiver, explaining, "It's Diggs."

"Hey, Diggs!" I said, glad to hear from him.

"Hey, how's Salzburg?"

"Wonderful! Say, I should have called you sooner, and thanked you for getting me those tickets -- I almost arrived before Johann!"

"Don't mention it," he chuckled. "But next time you disappear into the wild blue yonder, could you leave your cell phone on? I've been trying to reach you for an hour, and finally decided to try Johann's number!"

"Oh! Sorry about that," I said, looking over at my bag, stowed under the coffee table. "I got a call from Michelle in the middle of the night, and switched it to 'Vibrate' mode."

"Understandable. She is a piece of work, isn't she?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, suddenly worried.

"Well, let me put it to you this way," he began. "I've got bad news, and good news, bad news, and good news. Are you sitting down?"

 

Chapter 53- The Bad, The Good ​

I promptly sat down on the couch, alarmed.

"What is it? What'd she do?"

"Well, let's start with the obvious thing, first," Diggs said slowly, trying to be very calm and practical. "I'm assuming that you've been so distracted by Johann's boyish charms that you haven't heard the buzz on the Internet, or in the tabloids?"

"Well... yeah," I admitted. I looked over at Johann, who was sitting in the armchair next to the couch, folding our laundry and listening with some concern to one side of the conversation.

"Okay. For starters, there are a lot of tourists in Salzburg. Apparently, it's where 'The Sound of Music' was filmed, and has a big draw for music lovers. And some of those music lovers recognized you (both of you) and took photographs of you. And posted them on the Internet."

"Yeah..." I replied, afraid of where this was going. "We posed for some of them when we went to the market yesterday..." I remembered hugging Johann after the strange conversation with Dieter. "Were there, uh... any photos of... public displays of affection?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Diggs answered, allowing me to breathe easier. "But Brian, you do realize, you're a married man."

"Well, duh!"

"And most people would expect a married man, after being on tour for two months, to run straight home to his wife for some serious nookie."

"Oh." I suddenly saw his point. "And I'm here, not in New York."

"Precisely."

"...Crap!"

"Indeed."

I couldn't see any way to wriggle out of this one.

"Leo wanted me to take immediate action," Diggs continued. "Damage control, you know. And since it was the middle of the night for you, I went ahead and made a statement on your behalf last night."

"Oh! You did?"

"Yes. I told the press that you had gone home to your wife, but had gotten into a big fight, and were now taking time away to cool off. And that your good friend, Johann, offered you a place to stay." He paused. "Does he have an extra room in his apartment, where he could put up a guest?"

"As a matter of fact, he has a complete guest bedroom, with its own bathroom. I just saw it today."

Johann quietly corrected, "We have a guest bedroom!"

"Ah, good! So in theory, you could be staying there as a completely... platonic friend."

"Yes."

"Perfect! Anyway, I mentioned that the strain of you being on the road for so long is obviously hard on your marriage, and that recently, it's been compounded by all the irresponsible rumors -- Leo wanted me to stress that -- irresponsible rumors that you're in a romantic relationship with either or both Luc and Johann, and we asked that the media please be more respectful of your privacy."

"Wow," I said, with sincere respect. "Good save!"

"Thank you. Although one reporter asked, then, why you would go stay with the very person those rumors were about." Diggs sighed. "I told them it was no secret that you two were very close friends, and since your brothers all have families, you felt it would be less of an imposition than staying with any of them, and hoped that a change of scenery, and some sight-seeing in Salzburg, would take your mind off of your domestic problems. After all, you only have a couple of weeks of downtime before the next recording session."

"Okay..." I said, trying to absorb all this information. "Diggs, you're amazing! You thought of everything."

"I do try," he said, somewhat smugly. "Of course, I didn't foresee that it would be a problem just having you over there. I guess I was a bit... preoccupied."

The image of him with Leo flashed in my mind.

"Ew!" I exclaimed without thinking.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he retorted, "but you've obviously been preoccupied yourself, if you hadn't seen the guest bedroom until today!"

"Touché."

"Anyhow, that was the easy part. Now for the other bad news."

I drew in a deep breath. "Okay."

"While I was preparing that statement for the press, I got a call from Accounting, saying they'd gotten a red flag on your credit card."

"What?!"

"This is your Stateside account, of course, the one you've been using. I'm sorry, it's completely frozen now, so for any purchases, use your Swiss account. You should be getting your new credit card from them within the next day or two, since I asked them to expedite it."

I was feeling numb, like my brain was frozen.

"But, wha--what happened?!"

"Brian, I'm afraid your wife -- soon to be ex-wife -- went on a shopping spree. Actually, more like a binge... I'm guessing the day after she called you."

He was speaking slowly again, giving me time to digest the information.

"I don't know what you said, but apparently, she decided that the best way to get back at you was to use up all your money. It's a good thing you'd given me the go-ahead to re-organize your accounts, since it let me transfer half of your savings into your Swiss account on Monday. Unfortunately, though, your credit cards are a joint account, and you have -- had -- a combined credit limit of thirty-two thousand dollars."

He stopped, but I didn't know what to say.

"Are you with me?"

"Yeah," I managed.

"Now, there was already a balance of a couple thousand between the two of you, but that still left almost thirty thousand at her disposal. Which, for a woman, in New York, is fairly easy to go through. She made a number of purchases at a few hundred dollars each -- she kept it under a thousand each time, so it wouldn't trigger the alarm. Still, the bank got suspicious when it realized that you'd just made over fifteen thousand in purchases in one day. In less than six hours, actually."

"Fifteen thousand?!?" I yelled, shocked. "How--what--what the heck was she buying?!?"

"I have the itemized list here," he answered, and I could hear him shuffling papers.

Johann had looked up, startled by my outburst, but I didn't know what to tell him yet.

Diggs seemed to be reading from the list. "I can understand the baby crib, the toys, diapers, stroller, et cetera... but personally, I don't see a three-hundred-dollar maternity dress as a necessity, do you?"

"What?!?"

"I didn't think so. And I really don't see how one woman could possibly need more than five Coach handbags, at the price of four hundred dollars apiece..."

"WHAT?!?"

He calmly continued, "The bank thought someone had stolen your credit card, and called your home number to see if they should stop authorizing these purchases. Of course, she wasn't there, since she was out shopping, and neither of you were answering your cell phones, but the bank finally put their foot down when she reached the twenty thousand mark."

"Twenty THOUSAND?!?" I exploded.

"Don't worry," he cheerfully said, "that's the worst she can do! The bank froze the account, which is when our Accounting Department saw what was going on."

I put my head in my hand, limp with shock, and felt Johann sit next to me, placing one arm around me.

"Brian?" he whispered urgently. "What's the matter?"

"Diggs, give me second," I said into the receiver, then turned to Johann. "Michelle went on a shopping spree. She--She bought a lot of stuff, very expensive stuff, to get back at me."

He nodded. "For leaving her."

"Yeah."

I noticed that he didn't look very shocked, and realized that he must have figured as much, just from what he'd heard me say. He rubbed my shoulder supportively, and I sighed and turned back to Diggs.

"So... what do we do now?" I asked.

"Well, actually, I'm handling it now, so you don't have to do anything -- just don't try to use your old credit card!" he added hastily. "I've already talked to Michelle. It seems when her last credit purchase was denied by the bank, she tried to withdraw what was left in your checking account at the nearest ATM, but of course, even that wasn't possible since the account was frozen. So she called the bank, but they refused to authorize any more purchases until they figured out what was going on -- they knew that half of the savings had been transferred out of the account, but of course, she didn't know that yet. She told them to pay for the credit card with the money in savings, but there wasn't enough to cover twenty grand, and it made them wonder if she was really the account holder."

I groaned. "I didn't think to tell her I'd be taking half out."

"That actually worked to our advantage," Diggs said, "since it very effectively prevented her from spending any more! The bank will investigate this thoroughly, and when they realize that Michelle was abusing your credit out of spite, she will be listed as a risky customer, and given a much lower line of credit. For our part, I've told them that you wish to be separated from her financially, and will only pay her the amount we decided every month. So now they know exactly what her income will be, and can set a reasonable credit limit for her. Oh, by the way, did you know she'd quit her job?"

I had to let it sink in for a moment.

"No, she didn't tell me. But we were... busy, discussing other matters," I replied.

"Yes, of course. Anyway, when I finally talked to her, and told her exactly how much to expect from you every month -- and how much she has in checking and savings now, which doesn't cover even half of her shopping spree -- she gave me this whole sob story about how she was going to be all alone for the pregnancy, and was so sick she couldn't work, yadda, yadda, yadda. So I explained to her that as a single mother, she would have to learn to live within her means -- which, as you know, is quite comfortable, especially compared to most other women in her position."

"I--I thought so, anyway," I muttered.

"It is," Diggs assured me. "I also mentioned that, considering her current financial status, she should return some items if she hoped to have enough cash for food until the next deposit to her account, which won't be until next month. She insisted that all of her purchases were necessary, and that she also needs to hire contractors to paint the nursery, since you reneged on your promise to do it yourself."

"That, at least, is true," I admitted, remembering. "I said I'd help her paint the spare room, before I knew it was going to be a nursery, and of course, I can't do that if I'm here in Austria."

"Okay, so I can get some quotes for the work, and you can make a one-time deposit for it, if you want," he suggested. "But I pointed out to her that while maternity dresses were no doubt a necessary item, most did not cost more than a hundred dollars apiece. And that there were some fine knock-offs of Coach bags that were only a fraction of the price. Apparently, she didn't appreciate that I had your permission to review your accounts, and knew all those details."

"She wouldn't," I agreed.

"No. That's when things got ugly."

 

Chapter 54- The Ugly ​

I sighed again, and Johann placed a hand on my knee. I put my own hand on top of his and squeezed, silently thanking him for being there.

"How ugly?" I asked Diggs, bracing myself for the worst.

"Well, she first threatened to go to the media, and tell everyone that you'd left her -- when she was pregnant, no less -- to run off with Johann."

"No!" I breathed, feeling the blood drain from my face.

"This was the exact scenario Leo had been worried about, so we were prepared. I informed her that with her current assets, or lack thereof, she wouldn't be able to afford an attorney to defend herself in the massive defamation suit we would bring against her. On top of which, we would expect her to return the income you had been supplying to your joint account, retroactive to the last night you stayed at your New York apartment -- basically, your paycheck for the last two months."

I was stunned silent for a few seconds.

"You can do that?!?"

"Actually, no, we wouldn't have a legal leg to stand on," Diggs confessed, "but she didn't know that! And I also told her that if she damaged your career now, she would only be damaging her own income, since alimony and child support are percentages of your earnings."

"Well, that makes sense. I think that's what I told Leo, too, when we first talked about it."

"Yeah, that stopped her dead in her tracks! She couldn't backpedal fast enough," Diggs said, a smirk creeping into his voice. "So then, she goes into this whole spiel about how expensive it is to have a baby, and the extra costs since you won't be there to help her, and how you promised to provide the very best for your kid, yadda, yadda. And I told her that you were more concerned about the baby getting good prenatal nutrition now, than having it wear the latest fashion from Calvin Klein in six months, when it's actually born. That must have given her an idea, because then she started hinting that she might not be able to have the baby, simply because she couldn't afford it."

"WHAT?!?" I yelled again, flabbergasted.

"Don't worry, Brian, it was only a bluff, and I called it," Diggs said, soothingly. "It was a very poorly veiled threat to extort more money from you. But you see, she had forgotten that she was dealing with me, now, not big push-over Brian!"

He actually chuckled, almost evilly!

"Apparently, she'd mistaken me for someone who actually gives a shit what happens to her or the baby! So I informed her that while Leonard Records was fully prepared to liaise financial matters between the two of you, the choice of whether or not to have the baby was completely hers, and if she should decide that this was not a viable option for her, we would regretfully have to suspend any further payment from you, pending the settlement of divorce. Basically, no baby -- no dough!"

I was gaping at him, on the phone.

"Diggs! That's my baby you just risked!!"

"It wasn't a gamble," he said, still infuriatingly calm. "I knew she wouldn't risk losing her only source of income! Brian, I hate to be the one to say this, but your wife is about as mercenary a gold-digger as I've ever seen. And trust me, I've seen my fair share!"

I swallowed hard, my mind fuzzy, like a TV with poor reception.

"I--I can't believe... she... she's probably, you know... just upset, distraught, over this whole thing! She... well, she married me, when I was still poor, waiting tables to make ends meet..." I mumbled.

"That may be true," he conceded gently, "but money does strange things to people. Once you started making the big bucks and became an international celebrity, she might have thought that she could have anything she wanted. So yes, it makes sense that she was distraught to lose you -- you were the goose that laid the golden egg!"

I was having a hard time breathing, or even focusing on anything. Johann must have sensed my distress, since he pulled me against him, and tugged at the receiver in my hand, which I released without the least resistance.

"Diggs?" he said, his voice soft and sad. "Can we call you back? I think... Brian needs to rest now."

After he set the phone down on the coffee table, he held me in his arms as I wept.

It was strange how even though I was the one who had left Michelle, this latest turn of events made me feel as though somehow Michelle had abandoned me. I couldn't even explain all the emotions that were running through me as I sobbed in Serafim's kind embrace, but part of it, at least, had to do with the fact that she had tried to use the baby as a means to extort more money from me. Although it had been a surprise to learn that I was a father (for I already considered myself a father, even if the baby was still months from being born), it wounded me to the core to realize that she could treat the baby -- our child -- with such disregard, all for the sake of money! It had been her idea to have the baby, in the first place, but what assurance did I have now that she would take good care of it -- of my son or my daughter? Diggs said she had only been bluffing about having an abortion, but would a woman who really loved her child even think of saying such a thing?!?

Another part of me was grieving, too, from the suspicion that I had been no more than a cash cow -- an ATM that she could have sex with. I would be the first to admit that I wasn't as handsome, or sexy, or whatever as the next guy, but I had done my level best to be a good husband to her, up to the time and even after I had fallen for Johann. I had, in fact, loved her to the best of my knowledge (to that point) and ability. Had she ever loved me? When I confessed to her that I'd found my true love, she made me think that I had been her true love, and that I was breaking her heart in a way only Serafim could break mine -- had it all been a lie?!?

Shattered, I cried in my angel's arms until all of my tears were spent, and only dry sobs racked my body. His hands, I noticed through the haze, were stroking me carefully and lovingly, and a quiet hum was coming from his lips. I recognized it as the Romanian lullaby he had sung for me before. Right now, with my head hurting and my mind confused, I just wanted to sleep. I had no idea how Serafim knew this, but after a while he kissed my forehead and made me sit up, then stand up, and led me to the guest bedroom. He pulled off my clothes for me, as I could barely help myself, and tucked me into the bed. Then he joined me after stripping himself.

"Sleep now, my love," he whispered, combing my hair, and I slept, gratefully, clasped against his breast.

When I awoke, I had a terrible headache, but at least I could think more clearly. Serafim was still holding me close, and the warmth that came through his skin was soothing to my jangled nerves.

"My angel," I murmured, clinging to him tightly.

"Brian, my love," he answered, his lips grazing my aching head.

"I'm sorry," I started, embarrassed. "I don't know what got into me..."

"Shhh! It's all right, I understand," he whispered. "She hurt you, because she knows how to hurt you in deepest way."

I pondered that for a moment.

"Yes. I think you're right." I sighed. "And it worked, too!"

His hands started rubbing my back, kneading my tense neck, and I moaned and relaxed under his touch.

"Serafim," I said, when he stopped to rest his hands, "do you know what a gold-digger is?"

"Like... California Gold Rush? The Forty-Niners?" he asked, looking perplexed.

"No... It's a newer word. It means someone who pretends to like you, just for your money."

"Oh." He mulled it over. "That is not a nice person."

I sighed again. "That's what Diggs thinks Michelle is. That she... she liked me, only for my money."

He pursed his lips into a thin line. "I don't see... how that's possible!"

"Well... you're a little biased," I said, kissing his nipple, and feeling touched by his loyalty. "But I'm beginning to think, he may be right. She... She actually threatened to... not have the baby, if I didn't give her enough money."

"What?!?"

Serafim nearly jumped up, he was so outraged. As it was, he only rolled me over onto my back, and sat up staring at me.

"She use the baby to make you pay money?!?"

I drew a deep breath. "Yeah."

I could see him struggle to find words to put to his indignation.

"But--But... it's her own baby!"

"I know. I don't get it... How could she say that about her own child? And she's the one who wanted a baby to start with!"

He lay back down beside me, his eyes expressing his sympathy and sorrow.

"Oh, Brian! That is so... terrible! I'm so sorry for you!"

I took and kissed his hand that he'd stretched out to touch my face with.

"It's weird... It's like... I dunno... like she's rejecting me, by rejecting my baby. But she won't do anything, Diggs said... He told her she won't get any money from me if she doesn't have the baby, so... the baby's safe, for now."

Serafim gazed at me wordlessly for a while, and I simply lay there, holding his fingers to my lips. When he finally spoke, it was weighted with his own years of experience.

"Brian... I think I know... why she did this. When I try to hurt Bernard, I pretend to have boyfriends, many of them. To make him feel... less. I think, maybe, she make you think she doesn't want baby, to make you feel bad, too. To reject you, like you say, because you reject her."

He stroked my cheek slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on mine.

"But maybe... she wants to make you think, too, that she doesn't like you -- only likes your money -- because she knows that you would hurt, if you think she never liked you. I know... for a little bit, when I was young... I wanted to make Bernard think, I don't like him at all. But that was lie, just to hurt him! He was important to me, and... because he like me -- love me, in strange way -- I know that he would hurt if I act that way."

I nodded, realizing that he was probably right.

"So... Brian..." he continued, earnestly, "I hope you don't... hurt too bad! Because right now, she is hurt, and just trying to make you hurt, too. So, don't believe everything, for a while. She needs to calm down, to... figure out, how to act toward you."

"Okay," I agreed, glad to have someone thinking for me.

 

Chapter 55- Switching Places ​

We called Diggs back, with Johann on the phone from the study so he could listen, too. I asked Diggs to fill him in on everything, so I could make sure that I hadn't missed anything the first time around. He agreed with Johann that Michelle might only be acting out, but added that she had seemed quite upset with the prospect of returning the majority of her rash purchases -- which, considering her current state, the bank strongly recommended.

I was still struggling to come to grips with her behavior, but when Diggs reassured me that I wasn't obligated to pay any more than what we'd already set up, I remembered something.

"Diggs, I bought some stuff while we were on tour, with that same credit card account! I'd like to at least pay for my own purchases..."

"Oh, Brian!" he laughed. "You are such a nice guy! No wonder she thinks she can walk all over you! But all right, I'll make sure to make a transfer to cover your purchases. Probably not that much, though, eh?"

I hesitated to say this, since Johann was on the other line, but felt obligated to.

"Not a whole lot, but some dinners, and... well, you know, I'd hate to have her pay for the flowers I sent Johann, out of her allowance..."

"Ah! Right, that wouldn't go over well," he agreed.

"And Diggs, thank you for doing such nice job with them!" Johann chimed in. "They got here fine!"

"Glad to hear it," he said, and we could hear him smiling. "Well, you two lovebirds enjoy yourselves, and go do some sight-seeing -- it'll confirm what I said yesterday. Just don't go making out in public!"

"We'll be careful," we both promised.

That evening, after dinner at the Café, Serafim pulled out the sheet music for several classical pieces he hadn't memorized yet, and serenaded me as I lay, feeling tired and useless, on the couch. It was soothing to listen to his violin, even though he made a few mistakes, and would replay the difficult parts over and over until he got them right. There was something calming about how he played, letting each note sing for itself. I was in that twilight zone between sleep and consciousness when he put away his things.

"You look like you're ready to go to bed," he teased, rubbing my shoulder.

"Yeah," I groaned sleepily, and followed him to the master bedroom -- where, I realized, we hadn't put the new sheets on the bed yet.

"Oh! So that's why you had us nap in the other room," I commented.

Serafim started spreading out the fitted sheet. "Well, yes... and I thought, since you are so honest... it would be better if you can say, you sleep in guest bedroom -- at least once!"

It took me a second to figure out what he meant, my head was so woolly, but I realized his thoughtfulness in giving me a reason to say so without lying.

"You're a genius, you know that?" I told him, helping with the bedding, and he blushed.

In the shower we were much more hands-on than ever before, touching each other with audacity. Part of the fun was never knowing when or where you would get a washcloth or fingers or lips shoved up against you! I took advantage of Serafim's ticklish spot sparingly, remembering how torturous some tickle fights with my brothers had been as a kid, but was unabashedly happy to grab his well-rounded buns whenever the opportunity -- or inclination -- arose! They were the softest, most wonderful things to squeeze, and once we were out of the tub, drying off, I couldn't resist kneeling down to kiss them.

"Bri~an!" he giggled, as he felt my tongue licking his tender skin. "You are too silly!"

I sucked a large mouthful of his left cheek, leaving it slightly red, but not a lasting mark like a hickey.

"I can't help it! You're too... mmm... delicious!"

He laughed again, making all the unpleasant emotions from the business with Michelle melt away. When we were both dry, we stumbled into the bedroom, locked in a kiss, and dragged each other into the fresh bedding.

While we were still checking out each other's tonsils, a thought occurred to me. Perhaps it was because Johann had paid for the dinner tonight, and had looked so handsome in the candlelight, with his sport coat framing his wide shoulders. He was still adorable, of course, but little things were making me realize that he was a man, too, and could take charge if he wanted to. Money matters was only one aspect -- in helping me cope with the bad news today and giving me advice, he had been, in a very real sense, the adult in our relationship.

When we came up for air, I leaned back to examine his face in the light from the bathroom.

"What?" he asked expectantly, meeting my gaze. My question must have been written on my face!

"Serafim... have you... Did Bernard ever... let you, um... be on top?"

"On top?" he echoed, but a split second later I saw that he had comprehended the question. "Oh! You mean... switch positions?"

"Yeah."

"No. Never." He said this without rancor, which begged the next question.

"Did you ever want to?"

He considered this a moment.

"No... not really. I was happy, or... satisfied, with what he did to me. But usually," he confessed, "I just wanted to be... left alone."

I trailed a finger down the light covering of brown fuzz on his arm.

"But when you have someone... when I'm... inside of you," I continued, feeling my face flush, "does it feel good?"

"Oh, yes!" came his definite answer. "It is very good with you, Brian! I love feeling you moving inside, filling me up..."

His dreamy look alone was enough to make me hot, and I remembered when he had first probed me, in the hotel shower.

"It was pretty amazing when you, well... 'touched' me, on the inside, too," I admitted.

I ran my fingers through the fuzz on his chest, feeling his hair curl around my fingertips.

"Serafim... would you like to... be on top, with me?"

He froze for a moment, and his hands, which had been rubbing my hips, suddenly stopped.

"I... Brian, I--I don't know!" he answered, clearly astonished. "I never think of that!"

I felt as though I were at the peak of a roller coaster ride, looking down at the drop below. It was frightening, yet exhilarating at the same time. I took the plunge.

"Serafim... I think, I would like to... have you inside of me. Just so I know... what it's like." At his shocked expression, I had to laugh. "Who knows? Maybe I'll really, really like it!"

"Okay," my angel replied, still vaguely disbelieving. But in a few minutes, his fingers were at my back door, gently rubbing in the lube. I crouched low on all fours, feeling him stretching my opening -- a much more invasive procedure than the first time, when his only objective had been to rub my prostate.

"Are you okay?" he asked, after he slipped the second finger in.

"Mmmph!" I grunted into the pillow. Taking a deep breath and shoving the pillow out of the way, I told him, "Don't worry, I'll be all right."

He continued to open up my internal cavity, his slender fingers pressing gently as they helped me relax. It was strange to have so much attention paid to that part of my anatomy, but once he started rubbing my sweet spot, I was much more comfortable with having him inside. It did hurt a little, especially when his third finger slid in, but I was already loosened up enough that it was only about as painful as a large bowel movement after a day or two of constipation. (Sorry for the analogy, but hey, that's just the nature of the beast!)

Serafim had been murmuring sweet words of encouragement, not exactly giving me a blow-by-blow, but telling me about my progress. I felt a wet something on my nether cheeks a few times, and was startled to realize that he was having fun kissing my buns, too!

"Brian... are you ready?" he asked, somewhat breathlessly.

"Yeah," I answered, although I was nervous. Not so nervous as to tense up, though, since I knew my angel wouldn't hurt me. I felt him at my entrance, hot and solid, and closed my eyes as he slowly pushed in. There was a ring of fire from the friction, despite the lube he had slathered on himself, due to his very respectable size.

"So... big!" I groaned, feeling everything inside of me make way to allow him in.

"Does it hurt?" he anxiously asked, trying to gauge my reactions.

"Not bad," I managed, and took a deep breath. He was able to reach uncharted territory in fairly short order, but that was where the real work began. He kneaded my buns in an effort to make me relax more, and I willed whatever muscles I had down there -- on the inside especially -- to unclench. Finally, he was in all the way, and he wrapped his arms around me possessively.

"Mine!" was all he said, but I knew exactly how he felt. He was inside me, owning me, loving me, completely connected to me! It was mind-blowing to think about, so I chose not to think -- just enjoy. When he started moving, sliding back and forth, he made sure to rub my sweet spot, and I moaned with a pleasure that drowned out any pain.

"Sera...fim! So... good!" I told him, leaning down on my forearms with only my rear sticking up in the air, securely skewered by him.

"Brian! My Brian!" he called, as he thrust into me harder and faster. "This is... wonderful!"

"Mmm... me, too!" I gasped, feeling my own stiff manhood bouncing around. I wanted to reach down and grab it, to give myself some relief, but needed both of my arms to brace against the onslaught of Serafim's passion. It seemed as though he was close to losing control, which made me feel... sexy, and desirable.

"More, Serafim! More!" I begged, and he really did seem to lose it, pounding me with strength and newly awakened need. It wasn't long before I felt an almost burning fluid flowing into me, filling up my already hot body, but knowing what it meant for my angel, I reveled in the sensation. As we both gasped for air, ground together, he kissed my back between breaths.

"Brian... so... good! Tight, and hot! My Brian... my love!" he murmured, and that alone made me happy.

However, he pulled himself out of me as soon as he had recovered, and flipped me over to face him.

"Now, it's my turn," he said, with a devilish smile, "to make you feel good!"

I was about to protest that he'd already done that, when his lips kissed the tip of my leaking manhood. I could only moan as he licked, swallowed, and rubbed my vertical member, and when he drove me to reach my own ecstasy, I let out a caterwaul like some big cat in heat.

"Wow! That was... amazing," I panted, when I finally could. Serafim crawled up to cuddle against me.

"It's always amazing with you," he said sweetly, and kissed me. We fell into a blissful sleep.

 

Chapter 56- The Photographer Again ​

It was nice not to have to be anywhere, or do anything. We woke up slowly in each other's arms, then took a long, luxurious bath together in lieu of our usual shower. Serafim wanted to make sure that I wasn't sore from my first experience as a receiver, and gently massaged me as we soaked in the water. When he was done, I made him sit in front of me so that I could wash and caress his upper body. Looking over his shoulder, I marveled again at his physical perfection, but refrained from commenting on it. I did, however, lean forward to nuzzle his cheek, laughing at the morning stubble that greeted me there.

"Maybe you should wear the trousers from now on," I suggested, nibbling his earlobe with my lips.

"Trousers? Brian, I always wear trousers..."

I could see his perplexed expression, even from behind, so I tried to explain.

"'Wearing the trousers' means that you're the man in the relationship, the one in charge. After last night," I added, lasciviously rubbing his flaccid member, "I'm confident that you can do the job!"

"Oh, Brian," he sighed, but with a satisfied smile curling his lips. "I don't want to be in charge! I only do it, because you want to try..."

"But did you like it?"

"Oh! Yes, of course... it was wonderful! But... I think," he said, thoughtfully, "I like being bottom, better."

"Really?!?" I had to ask, out of surprise. He nodded, playing with my hands.

"Yes. I like feeling you... control me. So strong, so... macho! You make me feel like... like I melt away, and will do anything you want me to!"

"Anything?" I teased.

"Anything," he replied, firmly. He turned around to kiss me full on the lips, and had that dreamy look that had gotten him yelled at by Leo. "When you push inside me, it feels so good! And your hands hold me, so tight! That's when, I think... I know, I would do anything for you!"

"In that case," I told him, trying to look serious, "I have something to ask you."

"What?" he said, with no reservations in his eyes.

"Kiss me again!" I demanded, and he did.

After a brunch of leftovers, which were still delicious, Serafim wanted to go to the supermarket, and took me through the Mirabelle Gardens on the way. It was rather dreary weather, with low-hanging clouds that threatened to rain at any moment, but the beautiful landscaping was still full of vibrant color from the flowers planted in mirror-image patterns. We looked at each of the statues around the main fountain, overhearing bits of conversations in many different languages from the tourists visiting from various countries.

As we took one last look at the fortress on the hill, which the central path of the gardens seemed to point to, we heard the familiar clicking of a camera not far from us. Since there were plenty of tourists, I didn't think anything of it, but Serafim gasped and turned away, pulling the sleeve of my parka discreetly.

"Brian! That cameraman -- he is same man that chase us, in Los Angeles!" he whispered urgently.

"What?! Really? You think he's following us?" I asked, curbing the impulse to look.

"I think so..." he answered, biting his lip in worry.

"Should we run away again?"

"No, he would find us later, anyway. If he is following us, he knows my apartment place."

That made sense, and -- being an uncomplicated thinker -- I suggested the opposite.

"Shall I corner him and scare him off?"

"'Corner' him?" Serafim asked, quizzically.

"Yeah, catch him so he can't run away. Like that guy at the restaurant, remember? He was taking pictures of Luc and Cesare with his cell phone? You can beg me not to kill him..."

A mischievous smirk formed on Serafim's face as he contemplated that option.

"If you want to..."

"Yeah, let's! I'm tired of having my picture taken when I'm not expecting it."

"Okay!"

We strolled down a side path of the garden, right by the palace, and I saw the guy following us in the reflection of the windows. I stopped abruptly to tie my shoe, nudging Serafim to stop, too. To keep up the façade of a normal tourist, the guy would have to come up with a plausible reason to stop very suddenly, or keep walking past us. Confused, he turned around and pretended to take a picture of the fortress, so I seized the opportunity to grab him in a half Nelson -- both my arms under his armpits, picking him up off of his feet. The guy screamed like a girl.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, huh?" I muttered menacingly into his ear. "Are you following us? Huh? Are you?!?"

"Ich kann Englisch nicht sprechen!" he sputtered, which effectively ended my role as dread interrogator. Serafim took over, asking him pointed questions. I held him in a slightly uncomfortable position, to prevent him from giving us any attitude, as some real tourists passed by, looking at us curiously.

"Brian, he says he is not from tabloids -- he is not photographer, but private investigator," Serafim informed me, after he had gotten some answers. "He says a man hired him to follow me. The name he say is different, but... I think it's Bernard."

"What?!?" I exclaimed, unconsciously tightening my hold on the man.

"Yes," he sighed, his brow furrowed in frustration. "He has been following us all through the tour. He was told to take pictures of where I go, what I buy, what I look at... for very good price. I think... The only person who would do this, who can do this, is Bernard."

"But... why?!?" I asked, astounded.

"I don't know," Serafim replied, slowly. "Maybe to see if... if I cheat on him. Or to know what I do when he is not with me. I don't know why, but who else would pay someone to follow me, all around Europe and America?"

"Weird... That's just sick and weird!" I said, trying to wrap my mind around it. "You said he was a bit... possessive of you, and that I can understand, but this goes way beyond that! It's... It's like stalking, by proxy... Like he's obsessed!"

Sadly, Serafim nodded. "Yes. I think that is best way to describe it." He sighed again. "Brian, I think you have to let go this man, now. He is only doing his job..."

Reluctantly, I complied, and the man seemed extremely relieved. After exchanging a few more words with Serafim, and throwing a nervous glance or two at me, he walked away at a brisk pace.

"I tell him we will not hurt him, but he must give us some privacy," Serafim explained. "When we are sight-seeing, like tourists, it is okay to take pictures, but when we go shopping, or to restaurant, he can take picture of shop, but not follow us inside. I think that is fair -- he was only told to take pictures of where I am going, not every small detail! I tell him if that causes problem, say to Bernard to come ask me what I do himself!"

"So," I said, mulling this over, "you're pretty sure this is Bernard's doing?"

"Yes," he answered. "He has money to hire a man like that. For the 'why,' I will have to ask him, but I am sure he is the 'who.'"

We left the Gardens in grim silence, each of us lost in similar thoughts, no doubt.

We came out of the supermarket with three bags of groceries each, and Serafim offered to get us a cab, but I told him I didn't mind walking, since it was still early in the afternoon and we had no need to rush. I wanted to learn my way around town, I told him, since he might need me to run errands sometimes. While I explained to him what that expression meant, I saw that he was carrying the heavy bag with the milk, so I stole it from him. And when he protested, I said that I was trying to get my workout, since we hadn't gone to a gym in a while. He promised to find one as soon as we got home.

"Okay," I replied, "but the truth is, I just wanted to be chivalrous!"

"'Chivalrous,'" he repeated, racking his brain for the word. "That means, like... a knight, with a sword and horse, or... gentleman?"

"Yeah, I think so," I chuckled, amazed at how much knowledge he had crammed into his head. "It also means that right now, I want to be the one wearing the trousers!"

"Oh!" he said, comprehending at once. He smiled a bit shyly, looking up at me from the corners of his eyes. "Okay. You can be big boss, in charge now!"

We crossed the street and I took up my usual position on the outside of the sidewalk. He was telling me some of the city's history as we went along, when suddenly another pedestrian coming towards us ran up to Serafim and grabbed him in a hug.

"Hansi!" he exclaimed, followed by a string of enthusiastic German. Johann also greeted him gladly, if a little less exuberantly.

"Franz, I want to introduce to you -- this is my friend Brian, from my group."

"Of course! From Quartetto!" Franz cried, clapping his hands in delight before shaking one of mine. It was with some difficulty on my part, laden down with groceries as I was.

"Nice to meet you," I said, guessing that Franz was another one of Johann's old boyfriends, and hoping that he was nothing like Dieter.

"You are American, yes?" he asked, with a wide smile. "I see you carry the other one, when he is hurt, on YouTube! You are very strong." He turned to Johann and grinned. "I am jealous, Hansi! You are so lucky!"

Johann blushed noticeably. "Franz! Please... we are not... like that!"

He shook his head good-naturedly. "I understand -- you cannot come out, because of your work, but I am happy for you. You are very nice couple."

"Franz... I--I'm sorry," Johann said, and I could sense how bad he felt about trying to deceive his friend.

"It's okay, you have lawyers tell you what to do, what to say. I understand," Franz insisted. He looked Johann over, though, and his smile was slightly wistful. "But I miss you, Hansi... You are famous now, and many people love you, but don't forget, please, that I love you, too! I... I listen to your CD, and remember, when you sing for me."

Before Johann could respond, he grabbed him in a hug again, even giving him a little peck on the cheek.

"If you ever want to see me, I am still at home -- Mother is sick, so I take care of her." He turned to me with a forced smile. "Please, you take good care of Hansi! He is very special."

"I know -- I will," I assured him.

He nodded, then left with a cheerful, "Auf Wiedersehen!"

We had already started to walk, Johann lost in his thoughts, when we heard Franz call out to us again.

"Hansi!" he yelled, "Be careful of your uncle!" Then he waved before going on his way.

"What does he mean by that?" I asked.

"I don't know," Johann replied, puzzled. "Maybe he means the cameraman."