~Quartetto~

Chapter 21- Considering the Wife​

At the studio we ran through several of the Sinatra songs we were all doing together, including the ones we had sung on the plane. The first few times I always needed my music to know where to come in and where to keep quiet, but Johann seemed to figure out, almost by instinct, how the music was going, and by the second run-through barely glanced at his music. It amazed me, too, how quickly the other guys could memorize the lyrics. It always seemed to come much harder for me, and sometimes I wondered if I really had any talent for this. I needed to go over the songs several times alone, and decided to do so that evening -- it would keep me occupied, so I wouldn't be tempted to... do other things.

After two hours of non-stop singing, we finally got a break. Johann was still in the bathroom when I got back to the studio lounge, so I helped myself to some coffee and sat down to review my music. I was mildly surprised when Cesare sat next to me, and Luc perched on the armrest by Cesare.

"Brian, we wanted to apologize," Cesare began, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "We meant well, but I'm afraid we put you in an awkward position."

Luc nodded. "We didn't think how you would feel about it. I just assumed, since you two both had feelings for each other, that you'd enjoy a chance to... well, you know, shack up."

I couldn't help snorting at the expression.

"I don't mind, really," I explained. "And you don't have to apologize. But it's just... I need to sort things out with my wife, first, before I can be comfortable... 'shacking up' with Johann."

Cesare glanced down at his hands. "I understand. Believe me, it was difficult to... break the news, to my wife..."

"Although I'm sure she had her suspicions," Luc added.

"Yes, of course," Cesare sighed. "But it was still hard for her to hear it from me. She could not pretend it wasn't true any more."

"That had to be tough," I said, feeling some sympathy for him, as well as dread for my own impending confession.

"Tell me, Brian, how do you think your wife will take it?" Cesare asked, his gaze penetrating.

"Well, to be honest, I haven't thought about it much. I guess I'm trying not to," I answered. "I can't imagine how difficult it will be for her. She'll be hurt, of course, and probably mad as hell."

"Are you going to ask for a divorce?" Luc asked.

I nodded. "It's the only thing to do, I think. She needs to be free to find somebody else... somebody who will love her and her alone, the way she deserves to be."

"Yes, but Brian," Cesare said, slowly choosing his words, "what if she refuses to get a divorce?"

I was startled, and my mouth must have hung open for a good ten seconds.

"I--I don't know... I didn't think... I mean, I'd never thought of that..."

Cesare smiled sadly. "That was the case with my wife. She said she would overlook my... indiscretions, as long as I continued to provide for her and the children. But there is still some stigma to divorce, you know -- it's no good being the ex-wife of a celebrity. So, I must hide from the world my true self. It is a harder thing than you may realize."

I licked my lips, which had gone dry, and nodded. "I'm beginning to understand that."

Johann came back into the lounge just then and, seeing us grouped together on the couch, claimed the space on the other side of me. He sat so close that our thighs were touching, and it seemed natural to place my arm around him.

"What are you talking about?"

Luc grinned. "We were trying to give Brian some pointers, on how to please a man."

Johann chuckled, a sound that sent shivers up my spine.

"I don't think he need any help with that! Besides, I want to teach him my way."

The look he shot me then was both seductive and playful. I wanted to knock him over on the couch and smother him with kisses, but restrained myself to a simple squeeze on his waist.

We heard a low growl and realized that Leo was standing in front of us, arms akimbo.

"All right! Break time's over! Back to work!" he barked.

After going over five more songs, working out the speed and timing on each, we heard Leo say through the speakers, "All right, Cesare and Luc take a break -- we're gonna work on Johann and Brian's duet."

While the pianist asked him which song that was, I hazarded a look at Johann. He beamed back at me, positively glowing with happiness. I remembered that he had looked almost that happy when we went to Chinatown, but this was definitely better. I suddenly realized that I was grinning like a fool, too, and coughed and turned away -- but not before Johann had given me the thumbs up. I just hoped I wouldn't disappoint him with this song, which he had chosen for us.

The piano accompaniment started, with a slow, romantic jazz feel, and Johann took the first line, his sweet voice carrying above the muted piano.

"When somebody loves you, it's no good unless he loves you... all the way."

I picked it up, an octave below him.

"Happy to be near you, when you need someone to cheer you... all the way."

Johann turned to me and sang the next line with a shy smile.

"Taller than the tallest tree is -- that's how it should feel."

I answered with a lopsided smile of my own.

"Deeper than the deep blue sea is -- that's how deep it goes if it's real."

We sang the chorus together, and even though our voices were an octave apart and sounded quite different to begin with, they blended on the same notes with a hint of overtone.

"But if you let me love you, it's for sure I'm gonna love you...

All the way... all the way."

Following the notation by Leo, I started on the second verse.

"When somebody needs you, it's no good unless he needs you... all the way."

Johann's voice quavered slightly with emotion as he took the second line:

"Through the good and lean years, and for all the in-between years... come what may."

I sang the next line soberly, thinking of those almost marriage-vow-like words.

"Who knows where the road will lead us -- only fools would say."

We joined on the chorus again, and found our eyes locking on each other's as though making a pledge:

"But if you'll let me love you, it's for sure I'm gonna love you...

All the way... all the way."

When the piano's last note had faded completely, Leo came back on the speaker.

"That's a wrap! We'll figure out what to have Luc and Cesare do before next time."

In the background, we could hear Luc protesting, "What's wrong with the one we already picked?"

As Leo muttered some more expletives, I gathered up my music and held the door open for Johann.

We ate in our hotel's buffet restaurant for dinner, rubbing elbows with casino guests who mostly had no idea that we were celebrities. There were performers of all kinds in Vegas, I found, and not just Elvis impersonators, so we blended into the background. Leo and Diggs joined us, "to ensure the extended life of our enterprise" as Diggs put it -- or, as Luc grumbled, as chaperones. He was still disgruntled about not being able to do "the gay song" that he and Cesare had sung on the plane, but Johann laughed at him.

"You know that would be bad for business, and Leo is all about business," he said, shaking his head in amusement.

"You never know!" Luc countered, rather riled. "There could be a big, untapped market out there!"

Cesare patted his shoulder to calm him, and once we saw the spread at the buffet, our growling stomachs reduced the conversation to "Pass the salt," and "Ready for another round?" Nothing makes you so hungry as singing (if it's done right) and playing basketball, and I must have gone through five plates before we settled down with our after-dinner coffee.

"So, Brian," Leo started, in what I took to be an ominous opening gambit. "How's your wife doing?"

The four other guys stiffened as I tried to answer without making my annoyance obvious.

"She's fine. She's teaching music at a local school, and is giving violin lessons to some of the students."

"That's nice. Does she know about Johann?"

I was almost relieved that he'd gotten straight to the point.

"No. I'm going to tell her when I get home after the tour."

"Will she make a fuss?"

"I don't know," I answered, honestly enough. "She's sure to be mad, though. We've never gotten into any major arguments before, but she might just start throwing things at me."

"Wear a helmet, then," Leo advised. "But what I'm concerned about is, will she threaten to go to the tabloids?"

There was a general outcry (albeit muttered) from the other guys, and Diggs protested, "Leo, this is hardly the time..." but he cut them off by simply raising his hand.

"I'm just saying, we need to be prepared -- damage control, you know. After all, you're not the only one here with a future at stake. Like it or not, the four of you are conjoined at the hip. Or lower, if you want to be crass about it."

I took a long moment to consider his question, and sipped my coffee. I could feel Johann's worried eyes on me, but didn't want to be distracted by looking at him yet.

"I don't think that will be the first thing to come to her mind," I finally answered. "I'm planning on asking for a divorce, but if she would rather stay married, even if it's in name only, she wouldn't want to ruin my financial status, so in that case, it wouldn't be an issue. If she does agree to a divorce, it could get messy, of course, but at least we don't have kids... and with a generous enough settlement, I think we can trust her to keep quiet about it."

Leo nodded, satisfied.

"If you think you need some help, though -- say, some extra cash incentive -- be sure to let me know right away. We have insurance for that sort of thing."

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind," I replied, hoping it wouldn't come to that.

 

Chapter 22- More Pillow Talk​

We returned to our rooms on the honeymoon suites floor as Leo glared daggers at us from the elevator.

"Goodnight, boys," Cesare said, a bit apologetically, before heading to his and Luc's temporary love nest.

"You know," I overheard Luc whispering to Johann, "if you get bored, those handcuffs came with a lifetime guarantee..."

"Hey! Don't go putting ideas into his head," I interrupted with mock severity.

"Who? Me?!?" Luc protested, with his best falsely-accused-innocent look. Johann only laughed.

"Goodnight, Luc. Sweet dreams!"

The Frenchman's eyes seemed to darken as he replied, with an unwontedly sober expression, "You, too, Johann."

Johann -- no, Serafim, now that we were alone -- slipped his hand on my arm as we walked into our room. The lights of the city were multicolored and brilliant, bathing us in a hazy light.

"Oh! It's so beautiful..." he sighed, pulling me gently towards the window.

"It is, isn't it," I agreed. I tossed the music sheets that I'd brought for "homework" on a table, and embraced him from behind. He twisted around to look up at me, much like he had done the night before.

"Brian... I love you," he murmured as he combed my unruly hair with both hands, and prevented me from answering by sealing my lips with his own. We stood there for a long while, Serafim leaning against me as I held him, pausing occassionally to catch our breath and gazing at the constant light show on display outside, cheek to chin. Before long, I was so aroused that I couldn't hide it from him.

"Brian," he asked, his voice husky and unusually deep, "would it really be... so bad, if we... touched, before you talk to your wife? I mean, if she doesn't agree to divorce, you won't... not touch me, will you?"

"Of course not!" I answered immediately, to his latter question. "I can barely keep from... 'touching' you, even now! And it's not so much a matter of... legal standing, really. I just... I can't do this -- not like this, behind her back."

He stood still against me, his face buried in my neck.

"Serafim, I--I need to tell her, and have her get mad at me, and say that it's over. I mean, I know it's over for me already, but..."

It was hard to verbalize my thoughts, when my body was howling with the desire to "touch" him.

"But she doesn't know. She doesn't even suspect anything! She might wonder if I ever flirt with other women, but... she definitely isn't worrying about another man."

I stroked his back and shoulders, feeling the strength that lay beneath the shirt. I was still having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that I was attracted to my own gender.

"In a way, I hope that makes it easier for her... that I'm not leaving her for a prettier or younger woman, anyway. If she can blame it on my being gay, then maybe, she won't feel like I'm rejecting her, per se, but women in general."

I sighed, wondering if I were making any sense.

"I hope so, too," Serafim whispered into my collar, "for our sake."

I rubbed the small of his back in what I hoped was a reassuring gesture. "Yeah. For us. But even if she takes it hard, it won't change the way I feel about you."

I tried to get him to lift his head for another kiss, but he silently resisted.

"Brian..." he began, after a long pause, "you never tell me... you were waiting until you get home."

"Huh?" I asked, not comprehending.

"To tell your wife. You said tonight, to Leo, that you would talk to her after our tour is finished. I didn't know... so I hope, every day, that today will be day when you talk to her, tell her about us -- that tonight, will be night, we can finally be... together..."

As his words sunk into my brain, I realized with dismay that I had been putting him off every night for the past few days -- and it must have felt like a rejection to him, every time, not knowing my intentions.

"I--I'm so sorry! I must have forgot... I only... Johann, I didn't -- Serafim, I mean -- I couldn't just break up with her over the phone! We're married, after all... I need to tell her to her face. She's put up with me all this time... it's the least I can do. You understand, don't you?" I stammered, pleading at the end.

Serafim nodded, still tucked against my neck and shoulder.

"I do understand. That is why I wait to tell my Bernard, also. I just..."

His voice broke off in a sob, and I felt horrible as I held him, feeling the emotion rack his body.

"I'm sorry, I should have told you," I repeated, stroking and comforting him as best I could. "I shouldn't have kept you in such suspense! My poor angel... I'm a thoughtless klutz, I should have warned you -- Michelle is always telling me that I don't communicate..."

Serafim sniffed and clutched at my shirt, making me feel protective of him again, but at the same time like a total failure for having let him down already.

"I'm so sorry, Serafim... my dearest, sweetest angel! Did you think... I lost my nerve, when I talked to her on the phone this morning? That I... wimped out, by not coming out and telling her the truth?"

"No... no..." he murmured, shaking his head. "But I thought... I worried, if maybe... if you... still love her... more than... me..."

"No! Oh, no, Serafim, no! Not in a million years!! I love you, and only you -- I didn't know I could love someone so deeply, until I met you!"

I frantically grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away to look into his eyes -- his beautiful brown eyes that were now glistening with tears.

"I'm so sorry, I wish I could undo every minute of pain you felt because of my stupidity! You deserve better than this," I moaned, pulling him close again and kissing his tears away. "You deserve someone with half a brain in his head! Someone better than a big, useless idiot like me..."

It tore my heart to think of him with someone else, but thankfully, I didn't have to dwell on it for long.

"But Brian," my angel replied, with a quiet certitude that stilled my panicked mind, "I don't want anybody else -- I want you!"

I could hardly dare to believe it anymore, but wanted to, with every ounce of my being. Serafim held my face still with both hands, and stood on his toes to kiss my mouth, with a tenderness that made me melt.

"I'm sorry... I should know, you wait to see her face-to-face, with something so big... so important. It was silly of me to hope... but I couldn't help it. I... I want so much... to be with you..." he sighed, sliding both of his arms around my neck. "I know... love is more than touching, physical connection, but... I want to be yours, so much! I want to feel you... inside of me, and everywhere..."

I gulped, and gasped for air. His words alone were enough to whip my desire into a frenzy, and I was afraid I would either pass out or do something rash if I didn't take measures soon.

"Serafim... I--I can't, I'm sorry! Not yet..."

He searched my face with his deep, brown eyes.

"Brian... you want me?"

"Oh, yeah!" I breathed, pressing our bodies together. The proof was right in front of him, literally.

"Then... that is enough, for now. To know you love me..."

He trailed off, a sad smile on his lips. I kissed him one last time, in gratitude and some frustration, then dashed to the bathroom to take care of my... not so little problem.

When I came back out, he was sitting in a chair that he had pulled up to the window, looking out onto the lights of the Vegas Strip. There were two glasses on a side table, with a bottle of red wine already poured into them. I pulled up another chair next to him and sat down.

"Serafim... I'm sorry..."

He picked up the glasses and handed me one with a slight smile. It was not as carefree as I would have liked, but it was better than the one he had shown earlier.

"It is okay... I was thinking, only two more weeks, and... maybe some time to... work out your divorce. Then, I want you to come to Salzburg, to live with me. I want to show you my city... I think we can be... very happy there."

"I would love that," I told him, and meant it. I hadn't even thought that far ahead -- it was all I could do to face the hurdle of telling Michelle -- and it was nice to have someone else making plans for me. Plans for us.

"So, I tell myself, a few more weeks, maybe a month, and then... we will be together. This time... for good... yes?"

"Yes, of course!" I answered, fervently. The smile he gave me then was as happy as it usually was.

"And we will be together, I hope, forever. So I can wait. It is not so long, when we have... the rest of our life, to look forward to."

I thought about the years ahead of us, when we would live together, work together, and even grow old together. I couldn't envision whether it would be in Europe or America or wherever, but I knew that as long as I had my angel at my side, I would be all right. We would both be all right, because we would take care of each other. And as for me, I would learn to communicate better!

"Serafim... there's one more Sinatra song we need to do..."

"Yes?"

"'All my tomorrows belong to you...'"

 

Chapter 23- Coming to an Understanding​

Serafim insisted that I shower first this time, since he'd gone first in the morning, so I made it as quick as possible and came out with my hair still dripping. As he took his turn in the bathroom, I tried to find a comfortable position in one of the couches in the living room area, with no success -- they were all overstuffed, and too low to the floor. The chairs we had pulled to the window were rather confining, too, so I ended up sprawled across the bed, diagonally to have extra space, with my music spread out in front of me. I wished I had thought to borrow Cesare's pitch pipe, but didn't dare go knocking on their door right now! I hoped I was in the right key, from what I remembered of the rehearsal today, as I sang through my parts quietly.

Serafim came out, drying his hair with a hand towel, and dressed in his neat blue pajamas again. I quickly muted myself and pretended to be just looking over the music. I felt the bed sink a little as he sat on the edge.

"You're reading the music again?" he asked, curious.

"Yeah. I can't learn the lyrics as fast as you guys do," I replied.

Serafim flopped onto his stomach and did an army crawl to lie beside me, nuzzling his cheek against my shoulder.

"I'll tell you a secret," he said, in a conspiratorial whisper. "When I was student, I wanted to learn English, so I bought some CDs and listen to them, over and over. One of them was Frank Sinatra's best hits. So, I already know these songs by heart."

"Really? What other CDs did you get?"

"Um... Ella Fitzgerald, Kire te Kanawa, and Bryan Adams."

I laughed at the incongruity of the genres. "You like Bryan Adams?!?"

"Of course! 'Back in the summer of sixty-nine...'" he sang, in a passable imitation. I had the sudden urge to push him over onto his back and kiss him -- he was so full of surprises!

"What?!? What's so... funny?" he protested, as I kissed his cheeks repeatedly, laughing so hard I was shaking.

"It's just... you're so... American!" I chuckled. I had to lie down on top of him for a moment, resting, to catch my breath. "It's just not what I was expecting, you know? But in a good way."

"Really?" he queried, into my hair. "But I love America. Many people do."

"Not lately, they don't," I countered. "Almost everybody is against us because of the war right now."

Serafim sighed. "Yes, war is terrible, and it seems so many are for wrong reasons. But I think, even now, many people still like American culture. A lot of good things have come from it. Like these songs."

I stifled a snort as I added, "And Bryan Adams."

"Yes, Bryan Adams!" Serafim confirmed, with good-natured humor. He was caressing my back, very softly, so that it felt like feathers -- angel wings -- were brushing me. Lying against him, my face on his neck, was supremely comfortable.

"So, let me guess," I started in a serious tone. "You like me because I have the same name as Bryan Adams, right?"

I felt a swat on my rear. Well actually, he didn't quite reach my rear, but I knew that was what he had aimed for.

"No! Of course not!" Serafim retorted, sounding slightly put out. "I love you for being you. Not some guy with rough voice I never meet!"

"Yeah?" I asked, unable to hide my wonder. "Why? What could you possibly see in me?"

Suddenly, I felt myself being rolled over, and realized that Serafim had easily reversed our positions and was now straddling me. He was actually quite strong, or at least, stronger than I had expected him to be. Was I thinking of him like a woman? But before I could pursue that train of thought, he was kissing my face, like I had done to him earlier, making coherent thought impossible.

"Brian... my dear, sweet... maddening... infuriating... man!" he said, with an intensity that surprised me. I realized that I had actually managed to exasperate him.

"You are... so hard on yourself! I don't understand why... when you are so kind, and... wonderful!"

He was punctuating his words with not only kisses but also little nips on my neck, which weren't really painful but still made me yelp as they caught me off guard.

"I love you... for being... a nice guy! And you have... big, strong, amazing hands! And big, wide... chest, and you're... so patient, to put up... with me," he sighed, suddenly hugging my neck and pressing his face against mine.

"What do you mean? There's nothing I have to 'put up with' for you!"

"Yes, there is, but you are too nice to notice it."

"Huh?"

"You put up with me even when I'm selfish, and not happy with what you give me -- even though it is more than I ever dream of! I'm sorry, Brian," Serafim said, pushing himself up off of me to look me in the eye. "I should be more than happy that you love me, and want to be with me, but instead, I--I act like a child, whining because I can't get everything right now! I'm so ashamed..."

"Serafim, you don't have to apologize! I mean, it was really my fault for not telling you!"

He shook his head, with a bittersweet smile.

"No, I was thinking now, in shower, that I really did know you would wait until after the tour, since that was what I said I will do for Bernard, myself. I knew it was what you meant, when you told me you would talk with your wife. So it was all... how do you say... wishful thinking? Yes, wishful thinking, on my part. I hope for what I know will not happen. And then, like a spoiled little boy, I make you feel bad for not saying what I already know! I'm so sorry, Brian -- you are not to blame at all."

I must have gaped at him, trying to wrap my mind around what he was saying, because after a moment he kissed my open mouth hesitantly, as though asking for forgiveness. Of course I was more than willing to give it, even if I didn't quite understand what he needed it for yet.

"You are... too nice to me, Brian..." he sighed, pulling our tangled lips apart. "But I don't want to... take advantage of you. I should not blame you when I am the one in wrong!"

"No, no, I should have made it clear!" I protested, feeling a bit out of my depth.

"You did make it clear, I just refused to see it, because I wanted to think something else," came Serafim's penitent reply. "And I... I think... I was jealous, of your wife..."

"Jealous? Of Michelle???"

I was flabbergasted at the thought. Not that Michelle isn't attractive or anything, but to think that Serafim was jealous of her just because she was married to me was a concept I would probably never fully comprehend. He nodded in answer to my terse outburst, blushing in embarrassment.

"Yes... I am sorry, I know I shouldn't be, since you... promised yourself, to me. But she--she knows you, in ways I don't yet, and -- I really am a child! -- I was afraid... once you go home, and see her, that... you would... forget, all about me..."

I gasped in shock. Trying to gather my wits, I pulled him down against me in a tight embrace.

"Serafim, I would never--! I mean, just because I have a history with Michelle, doesn't mean that I would give up what I have with you!"

"I know, Brian," he quietly replied. "When I think, I know that! But, you see... like I tell you before, there is something... very wrong with me. Even when I know you love me, I... I can't control how I feel. And I feel like you cannot love me if... well... if you haven't touched me, even once." He drew a deep breath. "I think it is because, when I was young, I learned that love and sex are same thing. I know better, now, but it is hard to feel that."

I nodded slowly, as what he had been saying started to make more sense. If I had insecurities about my own attractiveness, or deficiencies thereof, Serafim also had insecurities about love without sexual intimacy.

"Do you think," I started, then paused.

"Yes?"

"Do you think it would help, if we... if I went ahead and 'touched' you," I managed, "or would it be better to wait, so you can... re-learn, like you said, that real love doesn't need to be physical?"

"Oh, Brian!" he cried, anguish wracking his voice. "Don't tempt me like that! You really are too good to me... But no, we shouldn't -- it would be wrong, to do that to your wife. I understand why you want to wait, really, I do! And I don't want to do something you... what we both would regret. As much as... a part of me, anyway, would really love to be yours, in body as well as heart, I know... we need to wait. I just want you to know, so you understand... and don't pay attention on me when I... become needy."

"Okay. If you're okay with that decision, then... that's what we'll do. But Serafim," I added, second-guessing my own judgment, "if it ever gets too hard, then you have to let me know! I--I don't want you to ever feel like... I don't love you, or I don't want you, ever again!"

I felt his slender hands slip behind my back, holding me tight.

"Okay," he whispered. "But Brian... what will you do?"

"We'll have to decide that together," I finally answered. "We both need to be in complete agreement on this! And... well, maybe... we can come up with some other way to relieve your... anxiety."

Serafim kissed my neck for a long moment, with a passion rooted in both his body and soul.

"You really are... too good to me!"

 

Chapter 24- Working Out​

When Michelle called the next morning, I was still asleep with Serafim in my arms.

"Rise and shine! Tonight's the big concert -- in Vegas, baby!"

I groaned, and Serafim quietly tried to get off of my chest, but I held him back.

"Yeah, we're doing a few Sinatra songs from our next CD. I just hope we don't botch it and have die-hard Frankie fans throwing stuff at us..."

"Oh, Brian! You're so gloomy in the morning! Just wait, it'll probably boost your sales with Frankie fans!"

She seemed to be in good spirits, which was a relief, since she tended to ask fewer questions when she was happy with how things were going for her. She had a lot to tell me about her students, and when she finally got around to asking me if I'd done any gambling, I told her I'd been too busy -- which was close enough to the truth to not feel like a blatant lie. I'd been busy spending all of my spare time with Serafim, holed up in our honeymoon suite, but those were details I didn't bother to add.

"Oh my gosh, look at the time! I gotta run... Have a good concert!"

"Yeah, okay, bye..."

As I hung up the receiver, I could feel Serafim let out a sigh of relief.

"Sorry to keep waking you up like that," I said, squeezing him gently.

"It's okay..." he murmured, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. I waited until he was done to lean in.

"She may be the first one I talk to every day," I told him, "but you're the first one I kiss!"

Since we weren't due to go to the concert venue until the afternoon, we had the first half of the day to spend as we pleased. I wasn't really interested in gambling, and Serafim asked, blushing slightly, if we could go to the gym and do my kind of workout. I'd almost forgotten that I'd promised to take him, but after being manhandled by him last night, I knew he would be able to handle weight lifting well enough. I started him out light, though, just to be safe.

"You treat me like a fairy!" he laughed when he saw how few weights I had put on his weight machine.

"Just wait," I told him. "It's not so much how heavy it is, but how long you have to do it!"

It only took a few minutes for him to work up a sweat, but he refused to quit until I was done with mine. He looked good with a sheen of sweat, his t-shirt clinging to his body and his hair curling near the temples from the moisture. I was a bit distracted as we moved on to the leg presses to give our arms a break. Here, too, I started him out with only fifty pounds (compared to my two hundred), not wanting him to get cramps from it later.

"The idea is to give your muscles a good workout both ways," I instructed, in my new-found role as personal trainer. "Take your time coming back down, and feel the burn in your thighs!"

"Ouf!" he gasped. "Okay, I feel that!"

The hotel gym also had a few bars bolted onto a wall for chin-ups, so as Serafim counted in admiration, I did my age in chin-ups.

"So, you are thirty-four?" he asked as I stepped down. I could only nod, being a little out of breath. "Then you are three years older than me."

As he stepped up to try it himself, a thought occurred to me, but I didn't say anything until he was done, panting and slightly trembling, after a few tries.

"This is hard!" he wheezed, rubbing his sore upper arms. I started kneading the back of his left arm for him since there was nobody else in the gym, and carefully asked my question.

"Serafim... if you had to have fake ID papers to get into Austria, with a fake name, isn't your birthday made up, too?"

"Yes, it is," he answered, his expression suddenly clouded. "My official birthday is May 13, but really, it is in December... I think it was 17, because a few days later was Ignatul... Yes, Ignatul is 20, so my birthday is 17. I almost forget, it has been so long..."

"December 17... A week before Christmas Eve," I calculated, trying to make sure I remembered.

"When is your birthday, Brian?" he asked, as though to change the subject.

"July 9 -- right after Independence Day."

"Oh! We were off work that week, this year. That is why I didn't know... I would have made you a present, if I knew!"

"That's all right. I don't really celebrate them anymore, at my age. Although Adeline, my old voice teacher, always remembers to send me a card."

Serafim smiled, making my heart skip a beat. He still had that effect on me.

"That is nice! You're very close to your teacher, I can tell."

"Yeah... She was like a second mom, although she's probably old enough to be my grandmother... She never acted like it, though! And I'll bet you anything that she's still as full of energy as ever, ready to tackle whatever life throws at her!" I had to laugh as I thought of her. "I've always hoped to be like Adeline when I grow old -- still spry and young at heart."

"I hope so, too," Serafim said, thoughtfully. "So it is good that I start to get in shape now!"

I grinned as he rubbed his sore thighs, and decided to forego the free weights today. I didn't want him pulling a hernia, especially right before our Las Vegas performance!

Back in our room, I told Serafim to shower first, thinking I would do some push-ups and sit-ups while I waited, but he was adamant that I go first, since he'd had the first turn yesterday morning.

"But I went first last night," I countered.

"Please, I will rest while I wait," he explained.

"And I was going to do some push-ups while I waited for you," I informed him, getting down on the floor.

"You still do more?!?"

His baffled expression made me laugh.

"Yeah, just a little more. If you're gonna rest there, count for me."

I went up to fifty before turning over and hooking my feet under the bed.

"What will you do now?" he asked, his eyes still round in surprise.

"Sit-ups," I grunted, and started on another fifty. Serafim counted again, watching me with increasing wonder.

"You are so strong! I could never do so much," he commented when I was finally done.

"You just... have to work up to it. You do a little every day, then do a little more, until you reach your goal. I've been doing this since high school, so it's no big deal."

He shook his head as though he found it hard to believe. "That is still a lot of work! You must be tired."

"Well, yeah," I admitted, "but I'm used to it. You'll have to be careful to not get cramps, though -- so you should get in the shower before you cool down completely, and let the hot water relax your muscles."

His gaze on me was piercing as I lay, stubborn as a mule, with my hands locked under my head.

"So, you won't go first?" he asked.

"Nope!"

"I won't either," he said, startling me with a defiant smile. There was something very... sexy, about that smile, too.

"Well then... I believe we're at an impasse," I managed to say.

Serafim's lips curved up even more. "I have an idea."

"Oh? What's that?"

"We go in at same time."

My mind went blank for a moment. I simply couldn't wrap it around such a concept. Not yet.

Serafim slid off of his chair to sit down next to me on the floor.

"Did you see? There are two shower heads here. One for both of us. It is, after all," he grinned wickedly, "the honeymoon suite."

My mouth had gone dry, and my blood was pounding in my ears -- and it wasn't from the exercise.

"Serafim...!"

"I think it will be fun," he said, gently stroking my hair. "How does the saying go? 'I wash your back, if you wash mine'?"

I swallowed hard.

"It's 'scratch' your back."

"Ah! But that is close enough, isn't it? The principle still holds true?"

"Serafim... I'm not sure... I can make it through... something like that..."

My words trailed off as he bent down to kiss me, playfully.

"Something like... what? We're only washing up," he teased, his hand on my chest. I grabbed it to keep it from wandering all over me.

"I'm not sure I'm ready... to let you see me... in my birthday suit," I finally confessed.

"'Birthday suit'?" he repeated, a quizzical expression furrowing his forehead.

"Um... yeah. You know, on your first birthday -- the day you're born -- you come into the world wearing... your 'birthday suit.'"

"Oh! So it is way of saying... no clothes?"

"Yeah."

He laughed. "How funny! I will remember that." He kissed the tip of my nose with a light peck. "I think I would like to see you in your 'birthday suit,' very much."

"I think I would like to see you in your 'birthday suit,' too much!" I groaned.

"Then we agree!" he cried gleefully, pulling me off of the floor with the hand I had used to grab his with. "Come on!"

"Serafim, I'm serious!" I warned him, trying (in vain) to resist. "I don't think I can... hold out, if I... if you... under those conditions!!"

His eyes were dancing with mischief as he drew near me to say, in a whisper, "Don't worry -- I have a plan!"

 

Chapter 25- Making out in the Shower ​

My world had become surreal as I was dragged into the bathroom -- the white marble tile was gleaming too brightly, my eyes were seeing things through a fishbowl, and my hearing was simultaneously muffled and acute. All I could focus on was Serafim, who turned on both shower heads as I stood there, stupidly.

"Well, Brian," he said, turning his lips up in a coy smile, "you can't wash with your clothes on! Time to get into your... birthday suit!"

As he pulled up my t-shirt, touching my stomach ever so lightly, I was petrified. Not from fear, but from an overwhelming lack of knowing what to do. When he had rolled up my shirt to my armpits, he leaned in for a quick kiss, encouraging me to participate. I finally realized that I needed to take my shirt off, and lifted my arms to do so, although they felt as heavy as lead.

When that article of clothing was discarded, Serafim untied the drawstring of my sweatpants and, carefully avoiding the bulge underneath, started pulling it down my legs. My mouth was now completely dry. He crouched, then knelt, as he pulled it lower.

"Hold onto the handle," he said, pointing to the vertical bar on one side of the shower, "and lift your foot."

I did as I was told, almost automatically, and he pulled off one leg of my pants as well as my sock. Then he patted my other leg, and we repeated the action. I was down to my tighty whities again, but was about to lose even these.

"W--W--Wait!" I stammered, as his hands reached for the waistband. "I--I'm not... ready!"

"Why? Are you shy?" he asked, his warm brown eyes looking up at mine from around the height of my navel.

"Y--Yeah... and you're still... dressed..."

He stood up with a knowing look.

"Would you like to... help me?" he asked, fingering his t-shirt suggestively. Was that a rhetorical question?!?

"Oh, yeah!" I breathed, and grabbed him, with absolutely no finesse. At least he was more mobile than I had been, and the t-shirt was flung off within seconds. Problem was, I couldn't keep my hands off of him, and started rubbing his back while kissing his sweet cheeks and forehead. He disentangled himself from my grasping hands and stepped back, laughing at my eagerness.

"I'm still dressed, Brian," he hinted, grabbing the bar on the other side of the shower. He even stuck his hip out towards me. I gulped as I reached for the drawstrings on his sweatpants -- which were actually mine that he'd borrowed, since he didn't have any gym clothes. I fumbled with the tie, turning it into a knot. By the time I got it loose, my hands were shaking nervously, but I managed to slip the pants down his hips and to his ankles. He gracefully lifted one foot, then the other, as I removed his pants and socks. When I stood up, he was eyeing me with frank approval.

"You have a magnificent body, Brian," he praised, his eyes roving over me from head to toe. "There are so many muscles on your arms and shoulders! Your stomach is so tight... is it, what they say, a six-pack? And your legs! Your thighs are... enormous! I can't tell, when you're wearing clothes, how big you really are..."

I blushed from all of his compliments, and felt the flush spread to another part of my body, but that didn't mean I wasn't checking him out, too! I had a better view of him than ever before, as we now stood facing each other a few feet away.

"Serafim... I never noticed, either, how long your legs are!"

"What? Really?"

"Yeah, look! Your waist is almost as high as mine, even though you're half a head shorter! Proportionately, your legs are a lot longer. Which is why you look so good in a suit," I thought out loud. "Your waist is high and narrow. And I love your skin," I confessed, turning even redder, but determined to pay my angel the homage due him. "It's so smooth, and fair! It looks so... soft!"

My hands caressed him tenderly this time, and he slipped his arms around my neck. I supported his back with my left arm as my right hand roamed over the supple skin of his chest. He kissed me, opening to allow me full access, and I took it, greedily. As we devoured each other with our mouths and tongues, his hands traced delicate patterns down my back, until they finally reached my waist again.

"Are you ready now?" he asked, with a teasing smile. I nodded, even though inwardly, I was still unsure. His nimble fingers slid down my buttocks, cupping them for a slow squeeze, then pushed down the waistband -- my last line of defense.

I had to capitulate. I raised a white flag in surrender.

I was embarrassed to be leaking already, but Serafim seemed only mildly amused. He tactfully made no comment as he pulled down my briefs to my ankles and left them there. Then he stood, waiting for me to do the same. I swallowed hard. I couldn't remember ever being so nervous before -- not even on stage!

I carefully pulled out the waistband of his boxers, so it wouldn't chafe his precious member, and pushed it past the bulge. I was immediately relieved to see that he was also leaking, and noticed as well that he had an uncut turtleneck. It was something of a curiosity for me, since most of the guys I'd grown up with (including my brothers) had been born at the same local hospital, where we'd all been trimmed in the first few hours of life. I wondered, briefly, if they felt sensations differently. But right now I only wanted to hold my angel by his masculine handle.

"No!" Serafim interrupted, blocking my hand. "No touching, not yet! We decided, remember?"

Of course I remembered, but how could he expect me to leave him alone?

"But Serafim," I protested, surprised and confused, "then why did you...?"

"Wait," he said, "it will get better, I promise!"

He finished removing his boxers, letting them fall to the floor, then stepped out of them and over the rim of the bathtub.

"Come on in," he coaxed, tilting his head back into the water. "It's nice and warm!"

I already felt as hot as I ever wanted to be, but I followed him in and stood under the other stream of water. He got a dollop of shampoo from the dispenser and worked it into his hair, as I simply watched him, mesmerized by his every move.

How could a guy be so graceful? And beautiful? Was it just him -- was Serafim the only one who could turn me on like this? Or had I, in my ignorance and prejudice, not noticed other men who had been just as enticing? I decided not. Even before I'd had feelings for him, I knew objectively that Johann was an extraordinarily attractive man. My feelings might have compromised my objectivity, but I wasn't wrong in thinking that he was the most beautiful guy I had ever met.

And now, that amazing creature was working another handful of shampoo into my hair, our bodies so close they were almost touching! Almost, but not quite. I realized that he was keeping a safe distance away. By now I was almost delirious with desire -- not that I knew what to do for it -- but his reminder prevented me from making any more moves.

"Now, turn around," he instructed, as he grabbed a washcloth from the towel rack, "and I'll wash your back, like I promised."

I didn't know, until he started, how sensual it could be to have your back rubbed by a soapy washcloth! And it seemed Serafim was deliberately trying to arouse me, not only by washing in slow, small circles down my back, but also by murmuring appreciative words about my anatomy.

"You look like a Greek statue! Such wide shoulders, and so strong! Do you know you have dimples in your back? Right here, and here. Michelangelo would have loved to carve you!"

I felt an impulsive kiss on my shoulder, and shivered involuntarily.

"Your arms, too, as big as my legs! You work very hard each day to make them so. You will have to teach me... I want to be closer to you, even if it's only a little bit..."

He washed my upper arms as he said that, and even into my armpits, applying enough pressure to not tickle. Then he reached around me to wash little circles on my chest, holding my left hip with his free hand. Even though we still weren't touching, I could feel the heat radiating off of him with my back.

"Your chest is so big! It must give you more breath for singing, too, when you train like that. And your stomach, so hard! So many sit-ups! You work out so hard, I am tired just watching you!" he laughed. His hands never missed a beat, and continued to work their way downward.

By now I was aching, hoping he would touch my manhood and provide the relief I desperately needed. But it seemed he was serious about our "no touch" agreement, and avoided that area completely. I groaned when his hand moved around my hip to the back. I couldn't help it, I was hoping for something more so badly.

"Brian, hold the handle again, and brace against the wall," came Serafim's voice from behind me. "I need you to stand strong."

I did as instructed, placing my left hand on the bar and my right palm against the wall of the shower, not knowing why. I found out soon enough.

"AUGH!" I yelled in surprise, as I felt something slide into my backdoor. It was small and slimy, and when the initial shock wore off, I could tell it was a finger.

"Relax, Brian," Serafim told me. "Take deep breaths! It's okay, I won't hurt you..."

I was breathing, all right, but more like hyperventilating. I forced myself to take deep, slow breaths, as he gently probed inside of me, rubbing places I'd never been touched before. Was this in accordance with the "no touch" agreement? I didn't know, and suddenly I didn't care -- he found what he was looking for.

"WAUGHHH!!!" I let out, completely unprepared for the sensation of having my prostate stimulated. I'd never had a prostate exam, but doubted that the doctor would make me feel like that. Serafim was stroking it with a gentle yet insistent rhythm, which made my poor distressed flagpole, well... it had only been at half-mast before, but now it was standing at full attention!

"Is it good, Brian?" he asked, increasing the speed of his attentions ever so slightly.

"Y--Yeah... good..." I gasped.

He rewarded me by speeding up the rubbing again, then even more, until I was gasping and groaning with no control, shamelessly dripping male milk as I trembled against the shower wall. A few final strokes, and I was gone.

 

Chapter 26- Birthday Suit ​

I held onto the safety bar, trembling from the intensity of my experience, and leaned against the shower wall for support. As I tried to control my breathing, I heard Serafim gasp several times in quick succession, and something hot hit the back of my legs. I wondered vaguely if it had been as good for him.

I waited for our ragged breathing to settle down before trying to move. I turned around slowly, still a little shaky, and found that Serafim was leaning against the wall, too, holding onto the bar above the soap dish and passively letting the water run over his body. He wore a blissful smile that made him look truly angelic, but after processing what he had just done, I needed some answers.

"So," I began, "what happened to the 'no touch' rule?"

"What?" he panted, looking up at me in a dreamy way that would have sent Leo into orbit. I couldn't help leaning in and kissing him again. "What did you say?" he murmured.

"You said... no touching," I said into his ear, my arms wrapping around his body. "But what you did... sure felt like touching!"

"Oh, but Brian," he replied, "that wasn't touching! It was... how do you say... it doesn't count?"

"What?!? What do you mean?"

"I touched you, yes," he laughed, his hands now firmly spread across my back, "but I never touch you... down there."

"Well, no... just... back there. And inside!"

Serafim giggled. "I only wash you where you're dirty." He hugged me close to him, no longer caring what parts of our bodies came into contact, as I pondered this.

"So, you're saying... as long as you don't touch the... actual thing," I managed, still squeamish, "it doesn't matter?"

Serafim smiled serenely. "Of course!" His hands wandered over my skin as he planted kisses on my neck. "That was just... um, what is the word, like commercials for movies?"

I thought a moment. "Trailers? Previews?"

"Preview, yes! That was a preview of... what we will do, later, when we are together," he informed me, resting his head on my shoulder. "Just a little... sample, so you can look forward to... other things."

In an instant, my imagination was straining at the barriers of my prudish mind, wondering what other wonderful things my angel was going to introduce me to. I drew in deep breaths in an effort to calm myself, but that only made my chest press against him more, which was definitely counterproductive, so I eased myself away from him. His eyes sought out mine, filling with concern.

"Brian... you didn't like it?"

"I didn't say that!" I quickly amended. "It's just... well, I wasn't expecting you to... I mean, I was barely comfortable having you see me naked..."

"You look wonderful in your birthday suit," Serafim said, stroking my stomach, "and I thought... you needed... relief."

I had to admit that he was right about the last bit. For over a month now, we'd all been on the road, hopping from one city to the next in our whirlwind world tour, and although Cesare and Luc had each other, I'd been living like a monk, with only work and working out to distract me. Granted, my libido had begun to slow down when I'd hit my thirties, but five weeks was still a long time for a dry spell. And if Serafim had been without a partner that long, too, no wonder he'd been trying to seduce me!

"Serafim... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like... I didn't enjoy it. And thank you! It was wonderful, really," I said, combing his wet hair back from his face with my fingers. Some of the anxiety in his eyes dissipated.

"Then you are... okay?" he asked.

"Of course! More than okay," I assured him, bending down to kiss his cheek. He eagerly met my lips with his own, and we became a tangled wet mass of limbs as we pressed against each other. I pushed him back into the wall in order to press even closer, and hungrily roamed over his skin with my mouth. However, I suddenly had to spit out what my tongue came into contact with.

"Blech! That shampoo tastes horrible!"

Serafim laughed and moved back into the stream of water on his side. "I will wash it out now! Then, I have to wash you again."

"Again?!?" I gulped, mistaking what he meant.

"Yes, because I made you dirty," he explained apologetically, and I remembered that we had both... soiled ourselves. I also remembered that, while Serafim had washed me beforehand, he hadn't had a chance to wash himself. I grabbed another washcloth from the towel rack, then found the body wash dispenser. Serafim had just finished rinsing his hair out when I went after him with the washcloth.

"Brian, what...?" he trailed off, startled, as I began washing his arms and shoulders.

"My turn now," I told him, gently holding him with my free hand as I worked down his back.

"Oh, Brian..." he murmured, melting into my touch and putting his hands on my chest. I could feel him playfully tugging at the few hairs there, as I concentrated on washing his buttocks, not squeezing them. Then I flipped over the washcloth to work on his chest, poking it into his navel to tease him and getting rewarded by a delighted laugh.

I was running out of suds as I got closer to the 'no touch' zone, so I took a moment to rinse out the washcloth and get more body wash. In the few seconds I had my back turned, Serafim quickly washed his privates, leaving me to work down his legs. As I'd noted earlier, his legs were almost as long as mine, and were as shapely as any guy's I had ever seen. Not that I'd ever really taken notice of another guy's legs, but still.

"Hey, if this gig ever runs dry," I commented, scrubbing the backs of his thighs, "you could always get work as a model."

There was the slightest pause before he answered, "Actually, I used to be model, before I start with Quartetto."

"Really?" I was impressed, but not surprised. "Why did you switch to singing?"

"Oh, music was always most important to me!" he said, with an earnestness that made me look up at him. I was already down to his feet, and when I patted his leg, he grabbed the safety bar again and lifted one foot. "I hoped, when I started voice lessons, that I could be like famous tenors -- like Pavarotti, or Domingo -- but I never think I can come close! I never dreamed that I would sing for my job."

I finished washing it and he shyly picked up the other. "What about you, Brian? What did you want to do when you were a boy?"

"I didn't really know, to tell you the truth," I said, finishing his other foot and standing up to rinse out the washcloth again. "I just always figured I'd be a farmer like my dad." I felt his hand begin washing my backside, starting with my thighs. "But then Adeline started teaching me, and said I could go far with it, so I thought, 'It sure beats sweating like a pig all day!' And when the Conservatory in Chicago actually accepted me, that decided it."

"Yes, it is good that you... pursued it. If you had never tried, you would have never succeeded."

"And would have never met you," I said, thoughtfully, as he worked down from my knees. He patted my leg, reminding me to pick it up, and proceeded to wash both of my feet. When he was done I washed off my own privates and rinsed out my hair. Normally, I washed my hair at the end of my shower, but it felt cleaner from having the shampoo in it from the beginning.

Serafim was contentedly rinsing off at the other side of the tub, and I had a great view of his wet and slightly pink body. He blushed when he saw me gawking at him, and turned off his shower. I followed suit, and we spent some time drying each other off with the large towels.

After a room service lunch of steak for me and wiener schnitzel for Serafim, we decided to take a nap in the two hours we had before going to the concert hall. We had pigged out a bit, sharing a brownie à la mode for dessert, since we knew supper would be a simple fare of sandwiches and fruit. It left us feeling groggy, and after the workout we'd had that morning (both in the gym and in the shower), I figured we'd earned a bit of rest.

Serafim snuggled against my chest as I held him and stroked his hair. I was halfway asleep, pleasantly reliving our morning, when I heard him sigh.

"What is it?" I whispered, in case he was almost asleep, too.

"Oh... nothing. Just... it is interesting, how our life can change."

"How so?"

"Well, if I never quit my modeling job, I would have never met you! So, in a way... Bernard has done this to himself."

"Huh? Done what?"

"Well, I started modeling on my own, when a friend told me about it -- without asking Bernard, you see... I wanted my own money, not what he gave me. But then... when Bernard found out, he was so angry..."

"Angry? Why?!?"

"He didn't want other men to... look at me. I was modeling for artists, and sometimes, they wanted to draw me... in my birthday suit."

My heart stopped for a second, thinking of all those drawings of a naked Serafim out there.

"Well," I finally managed, "I can see why."

Why they'd want to draw him, as well as why Bernard would have a problem with that.

He hugged me even tighter. "So, he made me quit that job, and gave me another job in his art gallery. It was okay, but he knew I wished for something different... more... creative. That was when he told me about this audition, and gave me ticket to Paris."

"That was... thoughtful of him," I begrudgingly admitted. I still couldn't forgive the guy for what he'd done to Serafim as a child.

"Yes, he can be very kind. But he is also very... not 'selfish,' exactly..."

"Possessive?" I offered.

"Yes! That is it, possessive! He always wants me with him, only him, and he gets very angry when other men look at me or talk to me." He sighed again. "That is why, I am... scared, to tell him. I think he will go crazy."

"Oh, Serafim!" I said, immediately concerned. "Do you think he'll... hurt you?"

He laughed, startling me. "Hurt me, no! No, I will be the one to hurt him. He is a little man, I will be okay," he explained. "But it is still hard to... break up, with someone, who has been with you so long. And I'm afraid... it will break his heart..."

I could understand that, at least. I cradled my angel in my arms and kissed his forehead until he drifted off to sleep, wondering how I could break the news gently to Michelle, too.

 

Chapter 27- Interrogation in the Limo ​

We were a few minutes late getting down to the lobby, since I had to change my shirt -- Serafim had drooled on it in his sleep, and apologized profusely for the inconvenience, although I thought it was rather sweet. It was heartwarming, really, that he trusted me so much that he could sleep with abandon in my arms. Thankfully, we still made it to the waiting limo before Cesare and Luc. Leo was texting on his Blackberry, and only glanced up as we entered, but Diggs looked us both over appraisingly.

"Well... you two lovebirds certainly look... refreshed!" was his comment.

"We should! We just had a two-hour nap," I grinned, turning to catch Serafim's eye. He winked back, and I noticed that the puffiness around his eyes, which had been getting gradually worse over the course of our tour, had almost disappeared. I made a mental note that it probably indicated fatigue or lack of sleep, as I put my arm around him and pulled him close.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Cesare said cheerily, making his way into the limo. "Luc took forever with his primping."

"That's what we have professional makeup artists for!" Leo growled at Luc, who came in looking somewhat disheveled -- which was very unusual for our fashionable Frenchman. "And it didn't do much good, anyway!"

"Hey!" he protested, seriously insulted. "It's not my fault Cez couldn't keep his paws off me all night! I swear he's popping little blue pills when I'm not looking," he muttered, shooting his lover an accusing glare. He slumped against Diggs and confided, "The man's a machine!"

"TMI, Luc, TMI!" Diggs groaned, as Leo choked on thin air. I was trying hard not to snort or snicker, when I felt Serafim tug on my arm to get my attention.

"What does it mean, 'TMI'?" he whispered.

"It's short for 'too much information,'" I explained. "Diggs really didn't want to know that much about their... love life."

"Oh! I see."

"Speaking of which," Luc said, catching our exchange, "you're both looking... relaxed! And Johann, you're positively radiant!"

Johann blushed and glanced down at his hands, a smile quirking his lips secretively. Now that Luc had mentioned it, I could definitely see a change in his whole demeanor -- Johann had always been a confident sort of guy, but now, there was an added dimension, a quality I couldn't put a name to, that seemed to give him a healthy glow.

"I think," Cesare declared, himself basking in the afterglow of satisfied virility, "you look more happy than we've ever seen you before!"

It was true -- Johann looked like he was truly happy. He blushed even more, and I pulled him in to kiss his temple. When he looked up at me, he was wearing the brightest smile I'd ever seen.

"That is because I am happy!" he said. Even though he spoke softly, we could all hear him. "Brian makes me more happy than I ever dream is possible!"

I wanted to suspend that moment, to freeze it and hang it like a bubble in time, to cherish it forever. I was awed to think that I could make another human being happy; I could hardly believe that I had made Johann, my beautiful Serafim, so deliriously happy.

My enchanted moment was shattered, however, when Luc cheered, "So he finally fucked you!!"

"NO!" we both answered simultaneously. If Johann had been blushing before, now his face was on fire, and I was sure mine matched.

"No, we... we decided to wait," Johann protested. Luc groaned.

"You're staying in a honeymoon suite in Vegas, and you haven't even put it to good use?!?"

"Yeah, we have," I said, more sulky than not. "The shower is... convenient."

I felt Johann tremble within the curve of my arm, and a quick peek told me he was trying to stifle his laughter. Well, how else would you describe it?

"'Convenient'?" Luc echoed, flabbergasted. "That's all you can say about it, is 'convenient'?!?"

"All right, how about 'memorable' and 'stimulating'?!?" I retorted. "Oh, and I suppose you can throw in 'hot' and 'steamy,' too!"

I had given away more than I'd intended to about our goings-on. Of course, Luc and Cesare picked up on it right away.

"What's this? What happened??? Spill your guts!!!" they demanded, as Leo held his head in his hands.

"Nothing that concerns you," I answered surlily.

"Did he touch you?" Luc asked Johann, figuring he was an easier nut to crack.

"No!" he answered. "We just... put on a fashion show," he claimed, and that made the rest of them gawk, including Leo.

"A fashion show," Luc repeated, not sure he'd heard right, "in the shower?"

Johann nodded, trying to look serious, but failing. A grin forced its way onto his face.

"We both showed off our birthday suits!"

It took half a second to register, then the cabin was filled with howls and laughter.

"So, was it all you'd ever dreamed of?" Cesare asked Johann, tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, yes! And so much more," he replied, managing to smirk and look dreamy at the same time.

"And for you, Brian? Was it as good for you, as it obviously was for Johann?" Luc plied.

"Of course! Probably better," I answered. "Every inch of him is perfectly beautiful!"

"That's what I always suspected," sighed Diggs, and everybody looked at him. "What?!? Like you all've never thought of it?!? Look at him, he's built like a god!"

Although I would never deny the pure aesthetic qualities of my angel, I did understand a bit of what he'd described of Bernard's jealousy.

"Mine!" I growled, pulling Johann onto my lap with both arms wrapped tightly around him.

He laughed as he kissed me, whispering, "Yours." Leo could have roared, for all I cared!

"You know, I find it hard to believe," Luc commented dryly to Cesare, "that after seeing such a 'perfectly beautiful' specimen of the male animal, that Brian could resist his own animal urges."

"I find it unlikely, also," Cesare agreed, in his most professorial tone. "In fact, I would have to conclude that they are hiding the truth from us."

"Do you mean to imply, sir, that they are lying?!?" Luc gasped.

"Indeed I do!" he affirmed. "My deductions lead me to believe that they have already, as they say in the vernacular, 'done the nasty,' and are simply unwilling to share that information."

"Shocking!"

"Elementary, my dear Frenchman."

Johann detached his lips from mine and turned around to contradict them.

"We aren't lying!" he insisted. "It was my idea to shower together, and I had to drag Brian in there!"

"Yes, but once there, how could he possibly resist such a tasty dish?" Cesare posed, matter-of-factly, with one eyebrow raised. Luc raised his own eyebrow to match, and added, "Surely he would have to taste a sample, at least?"

I felt my face turning red once more.

"For your information," I began, muttering, "not that it's any of your business, of course -- but it was not so much a sample as a preview."

"So are you still claiming," Luc pressed, like some prosecuting attorney in a bad movie, "that there was... ah... no touching involved?"

"No! I mean, yes, that's what I'm claiming," I answered, becoming flustered. "That is, on my part..."

"AHA!!!" Luc shouted, almost literally pouncing on me as well. "So there was, perhaps, some touching on... Mr. Leitner's part?!?"

Johann stuttered, "B--But, not really! It doesn't count!"

"What, exactly, doesn't count?" Cesare asked, lifting his brow even higher.

Johann blushed almost crimson, but I didn't know how to help him out of this quandary.

"It... It doesn't count... because, it was only... ah... it wasn't..." he floundered.

"Go on," Cesare prodded. "It wasn't... what?"

"I--I didn't touch his--his schwanz!" he cried, resorting to German.

"His what?"

"Speak French, or at least English!" Luc complained.

"Okay, his bite!" Johann threw out, then buried his face against my shoulder.

"OH!" Luc responded, finally understanding.

"His what?" Cesare prompted.

"Cazzone," was Luc's translation.

"Ah!" Cesare said, thoughtfully.

"And what exactly is that, in English?" Diggs asked, feigning innocence.

Leo groaned, "I don't even want to know..."

Luc told them, with a placid smile on his face, "His dick." Leo groaned again.

"So, you're saying it doesn't count," Diggs pressed, fascinated, "as long as you don't touch his dick?"

"Now that's what I call 'convenient'!" Luc said, with a short laugh. "I don't know who made up that rule, but I like that rule!"

"Peachy," Leo spat out, as the car pulled up in front of the concert hall. "Now could we please--"

"Wait a moment," Cesare interrupted, holding up his hands. "Although Johann has told us, under duress, what he has not touched, he has not yet revealed what he has touched."

"Yes, there is that," Luc joined in. "I think it's safe to assume that it was another part of Mr. Douglas' anatomy? One that is, perhaps, not so obvious as what he has not touched, but which is, I presume, equally... pleasureable?"

"No! You didn't!!" Diggs gasped. "Sweet little Johann?!?"

"Well, no wonder you look like the canary that swallowed the cat!" Cesare declared. "That is certainly unexpected! And Brian, you allowed him?"

"What?!? I--I didn't allow anything!" I fumed, feeling that this conversation had gotten completely out of hand. Luc whistled in amazement.

"Oh, so you were violated! Poor Brian..."

"Well, at least you don't look too sore," came Diggs' comment. "You're sitting down all right. Was Johann gentle with you?"

"Of course!" Johann shot back, before I could think of a response.

"Sometimes it's good to walk in another man's shoes, so to speak," Cesare said knowingly. "It makes you... appreciate them more."

"Are you suggesting we try it?" Luc asked him, a salacious glint in his eyes.

"That all depends..." Cesare answered with a sultry wave of his hand.

"I'm suggesting," broke in Leo, clearly at the end of his patience, "that we move the hell out of the car and get ready for the concert!"

 

Chapter 28- The Las Vegas Concert ​

The concert had gone smoothly until just before our last costume change -- we had finished the set, to thunderous applause, and were walking off the stage to prepare for the final few songs and encores, when Luc, who was the first man in line, tripped over a single rose that had been tossed onto the stage. Normally, they didn't make it that far in, and he'd been too busy waving at his fans to watch his feet closely, and in any case it was difficult to see with the spotlights. I saw him go down and try to break his fall with his right hand -- which, unfortunately, was holding his microphone. I heard a crack, and it wasn't metallic. The rest of us swarmed him in an instant, as a collective gasp went up from the audience.

"Luc! Are you hurt?" Cesare asked, concern filling his face.

"I--OW!" Luc sputtered, holding his wrist at a strange angle.

"We'd better get him backstage quickly," I said, helping him into a sitting position. "Can you walk?"

"No, I... I think I twisted my ankle, too," he gasped. Already there were beads of sweat on his brow.

"Johann, have Diggs get the paramedics," I directed. "Cesare, take our mic's for us, will you?"

Thrusting mine into his hands, I slid one arm under Luc's knees, and supported his back with my other.

"Hold onto me if you can," I told him, and he nodded and put his good arm around my neck, gritting his teeth. He winced as I stood up, but didn't cry out, putting his face down against my shoulder to hide his agony. There was a deathly hush in the concert hall as we walked out.

There was a wheelchair already waiting in the wings, thanks to Diggs' quick thinking, and I eased Luc into it, careful not to jostle his bad leg and hand. The paramedics came running up as Leo barked at the stage manager to have the orchestra start playing the interlude. We hovered nearby until the medics had assessed Luc's injuries -- the ankle was only twisted, but they were fairly sure that something was broken in the wrist. They wanted to take him to a hospital for X-rays right away, but he stoutly refused.

"Just wrap it up for now, I can hobble out there and sit on a stool for the last set. The show must go on!" he declared, even though his breathing was ragged.

"It'll take a few minutes to wrap it up properly," said the medic in charge, frowning.

"Hey, make sure you change into your next outfit, then, before you get bandaged up," Diggs advised. "Once they put the splints on, you won't be able to get out of those clothes unless we cut them, and there'll be no way to get anything else on."

"Good idea!" Luc said, and Cesare started wheeling him to the changing room, much to the consternation of the medics.

"You can't do that!" they protested. "You could make the injury worse!"

"I'll be extra careful," Luc assured them. "In fact, if you could help me so I don't pull anything out of place, that would help a lot."

They weren't happy about it, but working in Vegas, they seemed to realize that a performer would rather sacrifice his body than a performance, and grudgingly agreed to help him change.

"That's gonna take a while," Leo said, in a low grumble, his brows knit together in thought. He turned to Johann and me. "You two! Once the interlude is over, go out there and sing your duet. And talk for as long as you can to stretch out the time!"

I looked at Johann, and he returned my shocked expression, then grinned.

"Okay," he said, "we need to change, then."

We both dashed into the changing room -- which was overcrowded with the paramedics and Cesare who were all trying to help Luc -- grabbed our next outfit, and took them to our respective dressing rooms. The white tuxes came with clip-on bow ties, thankfully, so we were ready with almost a minute to spare before the orchestra number ended.

"I'll tell them Luc is okay," I told Johann, "then you can introduce the song."

"No, you introduce the song, and I can say why I like it."

"Okay," I answered, just as I heard the final notes being played. We grabbed our mic's from Diggs and walked out onto the stage, greeted by some hesitant applause as the audience realized that Luc and Cesare weren't with us.

"In case some of you hadn't noticed," I began, trying to keep the tone light, "our favorite Frenchman just took a little tumble, and we've had to assemble all the king's horses and all the king's men to put him back together again. As you may be aware, they're absolutely useless in this sort of case -- so, we called in some of Nevada's finest paramedics instead. They're taping him up right now, and although he'll have to practice signing his autograph left-handed, other than that, he should be all right."

There were some scattered cheers mingled with the applause.

"He'll probably have to spend a long time in physical therapy, so if some of you would like to send him flowers, I'm sure he'd appreciate it. In fact," I added, as an idea popped into my head, "if you'd like to send him any cookies, candies, or chocolates -- any food items -- you can send them to my attention, and I will personally make sure that he gets them!"

Everybody laughed at that, and Johann interjected, with a grin, "Brian, you will make sure they are good enough for Luc to eat, first, of course?!?"

"Of course," I replied, trying to look serious, although I knew I was fooling no-one. I could feel the audience relax as they laughed, and that was all I'd hoped for.

"Now, since we're short one member, and Cesare is still trying to figure out how to tie his tie," I lied, then had to grin at Johann's moue, which said as plainly as words that I was going to be in big trouble with Cesare later, "we thought we'd do a little duet for you, that we've been practicing to put on our next CD. The song is a well-known favorite to Frank Sinatra fans, 'All the Way.'"

I looked over at Johann, who was smiling as though reminiscing.

"I ask to do this song, because a long time ago, when I first study English, I bought a Frank Sinatra CD, and listen to it over and over. I learned all the songs by heart, but this was always my favorite song, and many other people liked it, too -- it won the Academy Award for Best Original Song in 1957, after Sinatra sang it for the movie, 'The Joker Is Wild.' They even renamed the movie, 'All the Way,' because this song was so popular! So, we will sing it tonight as a duet, and I hope you like it."

The pianist was a different guy from the one we'd had in the studio, but he was a consummate professional, starting to play the song even without the music for it. I was impressed to realize that he knew this song by heart, too.

Johann's soft, lovely voice drew the crowd into the lyrics:

"When somebody loves you, it's no good unless he loves you... all the way."

I took the second line, trying to match the gentleness of his tone.

"Happy to be near you, when you need someone to cheer you... all the way."

Johann looked out at the audience with that new, glowing smile he had.

"Taller than the tallest tree is -- that's how it should feel."

I sang with a deep happiness that had to rival what Johann was feeling.

"Deeper than the deep blue sea is -- that's how deep it goes if it's real."

Singing the chorus together, our voices well-blended, I smiled as I thought of singing this to Johann -- my Serafim, my angel.

"But if you let me love you, it's for sure I'm gonna love you...

All the way... all the way."

As we took turns singing the second verse, I could feel a hush fall over the crowd -- a sweet, romantic quietude that calmed worries and mended frayed nerves. Music was a living thing, and especially in a live performance, you could sense how it moved people, as though it were a higher being that tamed them. I only hoped that the tranquility and beauty of the song was working its magic on Luc, and Cesare, as well.

"But if you let me love you, it's for sure I'm gonna love you...

All the way... all the way."

I looked over at Johann on the last line of the song, only to see that he was looking at me -- and we both quickly turned to face the audience again. Neither of us wanted Leo to accuse us of giving our relationship away to the general public. As we bowed to acknowledge the restrained but appreciative applause, I thought how funny it was that we had both looked at each other at the same time, as if we shared some form of telepathy. I hoped Johann knew, at least, that I was singing the song for him and to him.

"Thank you," I said, wondering how to proceed, when I heard the applause picking up again, and Cesare walked onto the stage, carrying a stool.

"Did I miss anything?" he asked, setting down the stool and deliberately fingering his bow tie to make sure it was in the right place.

"Ah, no," I hedged, "Not really."

"Well then, if you would be so kind as to help us bring our fourth member out," he said, his one eyebrow raised, fraught with meaning, "we can continue on with the show."

"Yes, the show must go on!" Johann laughed, as I rushed back to the wings where Luc had just managed to stand up on one leg.

"I'll carry you to the stool."

Luc groaned, "That's just so undignified... but I guess we have to."

I handed him my mic and picked him up, and Diggs gave him his own, then I carried him out to be received by his adoring fans, who went wild to see him back. He jauntily waved his bandaged hand at them, then apologized for giving them all a scare once he was situated on the stool. We sang the rest of the concert grouped around him, relieved that he was able to sing, at least, despite his injuries.

 

Chapter 29- Aftermath ​

The after-concert party that night was subdued, since Luc had to be taken to the nearest hospital for treatment as soon as the performance was over. Cesare wanted to go with him, of course, but was strictly forbidden to leave the party by Leo, who was also obligated to stay, while Diggs accompanied Luc to take care of his paperwork. I was surprised, though, and caught off-guard by the number of fans who swarmed me as soon as we walked in. I simply wasn't used to being the center of attention, and at one point glanced over at Johann for help, but he had his own share of admirers to contend with. There was nothing for it but to smile and keep up the small talk with the seemingly endless line of women who wanted to shake my hand. Some even asked me to flex my arms, to which I obliged with as much grace as I could muster. I'd never had my picture taken so many times in one night.

After about an hour of pleasing the public, I finally broke away to the bar to get a glass of cognac, and turned around to find Johann at my elbow.

"So, how does it feel to be a hero?" he asked, with an impish grin.

"Exhausting," I answered. "I don't know how you do it all the time."

He nodded sympathetically as he told the bartender, "I'll have what he's having," then smiled in response to my inquiring look. "You always drink that after concerts, when we don't get up early the next day. I just thought I'd try it."

Startled to realize he'd been observing me so carefully, I couldn't think of a reply. He raised his glass, commenting, "I would say, 'To another successful performance,' but I'm not sure it is appro--appropriate, considering Luc."

"Well, at least he was a trooper, and stuck it out. To Luc!" I said, and touched my glass to his.

"To Luc!" he agreed, and we drank.

When we got back to the hotel, all of us -- including Leo -- stopped by Luc and Cesare's room to see how he was doing. Cesare rushed to his side and knelt down, horrified by the large cast on his hand.

"It's all right, it's a clean break, and they were able to set it without surgery," he explained, tousling Cesare's curly hair with his good hand. "And the foot is just a light sprain, so they gave me this walking cast -- so I won't need Brian to carry me everywhere! Thanks for that, by the way -- I couldn't have managed without you!"

"Don't mention it! But in case I ever need to carry you again, don't pack on the pounds, all right?" I teased. Luc grinned sheepishly.

"I'll keep that in mind. Right now they've got me pumped so full of painkillers, Diggs won't even let me have a drink -- after all that I've been through!"

"Nothing but water for you tonight," Diggs said grimly. "And Cesare, no wearing out his ass! He needs his strength."

"Of course!" Cesare replied. "I will nurse and coddle my pretty little pet until he is all better," he crooned, kissing Luc's cheek and patting his shoulder. Leo tried to suppress his gag reflex.

"All right, we all need to get some rest! The limo will come by at two, so have your stuff packed and ready by lunch!"

Once back in our room, I mindlessly stripped out of my clothes with no purpose in mind but to fall into bed and sleep until I was forced to get up. That is, until I saw Johann leaning against the window frame, looking out at the bright lights of the city in silence. I paused, half-undressed, and decided to go over and hug him.

"Some concert, huh?"

"Yes... and our last night in Vegas," he sighed. He rubbed my bare arms slowly as I pulled him closer to me. "Brian... why don't we... shower together."

I stiffened, remembering what had happened that morning. "Uh, Johann... Serafim, I don't think..."

"I'm tired, too," he interrupted. "I just meant... to save time. Just washing, no touching."

I contemplated his proposition for a moment.

"That's what you said last time."

He turned to look at me, a weary smile on his lips.

"I know. But I mean it, this time. I'm... exhausted. We can shower, then go to bed."

"Okay."

I hadn't planned on a shower tonight, but realized that you couldn't just flop into bed dirty when there was someone else joining you -- especially when that someone was as fond of snuggling as Serafim! I finished undressing and stepped in first, turning on both shower heads so that his side was warmed up by the time he stepped in.

"Ah... hot water," he murmured appreciatively, and started washing his hair. I'd turned around to look, just to admire his perfect body -- not a body-builder type of build, but healthy and naturally well-proportioned. His shoulders were solid, as any man's should be, and his torso tapered to a narrow waist. Below that, his buns were rounded, with a slight crease beneath them that hinted at how soft they were. His legs were long and straight, as I'd noticed before, with enough muscle on them to be masculine without being stocky. If I were an artist, I'd carve him out of marble -- and he would rival Michelangelo's David in grace.

When he turned to get some body soap, he realized that I'd been studying his backside, and blushed.

"I thought... you said you were tired," he said, with only a slight accusation in his tone.

"I did. I am," I replied. "That doesn't mean I can't appreciate the view."

He turned away again, self-consciously, as he washed himself.

"Brian..."

"Yeah?"

"When I said, in the car, before the concert..."

He seemed to be having trouble forming his thoughts into words, which was rather unusual. I applied more soap to my washcloth and started washing his back, hoping to offer some moral support, but also because I wanted to touch him in a way that was tender without being... well, erotic.

"When I told the other guys," he continued, haltingly, "that it... didn't count, as long as... you know..."

"Yeah," I interjected, letting him know I was following him so far.

"Luc said it was... very 'convenient.' Does that mean... he doesn't think... that it doesn't count?"

I had to ponder that question to figure out what he was asking. I couldn't think too well when I was so tired.

"I think that's right," I answered after a moment.

"So... it does count, even if... I don't touch you, right there."

"I guess you could say that," I said, washing his buns and the backs of his thighs, trying hard not to think dirty thoughts about the crack between his buns.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping a bit. "I'm sorry, Brian," he said in such a sad voice that I stopped scrubbing. "I... I didn't know..."

"Know what?" I asked, confused.

"I really thought... it didn't count, as touching." He looked over his shoulder at me, his brown eyes troubled. "I made you... uncomfortable, didn't I?"

"Well," I started, feeling muddled and unprepared. "I certainly wasn't... expecting that! But that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it," I hastened to add. "It was memorable, to say the least, and... well, it was very... effective, right?"

He smiled, but it was still sad. "Yes, of course... but did you feel..." He searched for the word. "Violated?"

"Um... well, 'violated' is a strong word... I wouldn't say that," I explained. "But, well... it was a little... invasive, if you know what I mean."

"'Invasive' means... I invaded your personal space?" he queried.

"Yeah, that's it! I didn't know you were going to get... so intimate," I answered. "Not that I minded, but it would've helped if you'd told me what you were planning to do."

"Okay," he said, mulling it over. "And you said... it felt like 'touching' to you... right?"

"Well, yeah," I admitted.

"So it does count..." he quietly repeated.

"Yeah, but... don't worry about it," I told him, hugging him under the stream of water. "I really didn't mind it! I was just... surprised."

He twisted his head enough to kiss me.

"Okay. And I just have to... re-learn, what is normal and what is... not normal." He leaned back into me, letting me hold him. "You see... all my life, I was taught things by Bernard... things about sex. And now I find out, not everything he said was true. Like it not counting, if you don't touch... right there."

I felt my fury at this man, who had forced his perversions onto Serafim, burn deep within me.

"It's all right, Serafim, it's not your fault that he filled your head full of lies! He was doing stuff to you that you were way too young to understand, then making excuses for what he was doing! The whole thing with the touching 'not counting' was just so he could feel better about the horrible things he did to you! He should never have been allowed to do that, not when you were so small!"

Serafim nodded, and I realized that the wetness on his cheeks was not solely water from the shower. I hugged him even tighter as I felt his body tremble with sobs.

"I know... I think so, too," he whispered. I kissed his cheek, trying to staunch the flow of tears. "But Brian... when I, finished, touching you, on the inside," he asked, holding onto my arms wrapped around him, "did it feel... good?"

"Yeah," I replied, without hesitation. There was no question about that!

"So, you understand," he said, pausing for a deep, shuddering breath. "Even though... what Bernard did to me, was very wrong... it felt good. At least, physically." He turned to look me in the eye. "Can you see why... I become... so attached to him? Almost... love him?"

My heart seemed to drop out of my body, falling beneath my feet to the ground, so many floors below.

The problem was, I did see. For a young boy with no concept of what true sexual love was supposed to be like, it would have been extremely confusing, and nearly impossible to distinguish what was true from what was false. And in that state of mind -- with no other adults to turn to -- it was almost inevitable that he would gradually accept the man's attentions as love, and return his affections in due time.

I nodded, finding it hard to breathe, but knowing that Serafim needed to have my assurance and understanding. He kissed me tenderly, relief replacing the sadness in his eyes. I kissed him back, as we stood still under the warm pelting of the shower.

 

Chapter 30- Luc on Drugs ​

We were up and about, packing our suitcases, when Michelle called late the next morning. It was Sunday, which meant she had no classes or private lessons, and I could tell that she was settling in for a long conversation. Thankfully, I had all of the excitement from the night before to tell her about.

"So you actually carried him off the stage?!?" she echoed. "I wish I could've seen that! It's a good thing they took you along to do the heavy lifting, huh?"

"Yeah, the ol' farm hand has to come in handy sometimes," I agreed, rolling up a pair of socks.

"That must have been humiliating for Luc, though," she said, a smirk coming through on her voice, "getting picked up like a little girl!"

"Well, it wasn't his fault he got hurt... It's hard enough to see where you're going, with all the shadows from the trick lighting," I explained, trying to fold a shirt that had been brought back from the laundry service, while pinching the phone between my ear and shoulder. "I'm just glad it wasn't any worse! They gave him a walking cast, so I don't have to carry him around anymore. His wrist is going to take a while to heal, though."

"At least he doesn't need it to sing," she pointed out. "Can you imagine, if one of you got laryngitis?!?"

I groaned. "Don't even say that!"

"I'm sorry," she laughed, "but just be sure you stay warm at night!"

My heart skipped a beat. Serafim certainly made sure that I stayed warm in bed...

"Uh, yeah," I managed to answer. "Not that it gets too cold around here... and our next stop is Arizona."

"Phoenix, right?"

"Yeah."

I couldn't think of anything else to say, and an awkward silence followed. I hoped desperately that it didn't seem as awkward to her as it did to me.

"So, what're you doing the rest of the day?" I asked, trying not to sound too nervous. Or guilty.

"Actually, I was thinking of cleaning out the spare bedroom... We still have boxes in there from when we moved in! I figure, if we haven't needed the stuff all this time, we probably never will. I won't get rid of any of your stuff, I promise, but, like, kitchen items that we got at our wedding -- what's the point of hanging onto them if we don't use them? So I think I'll go through and donate some of those, and clear out the room so we can redecorate it."

"Good idea," I replied. "You can throw my junk into the closet or something, if it's in the way."

"Okay. I'm hoping to get most of it done so when you get home, all that's left to do is paint the walls."

"You wanna re-paint them?"

"Yeah, I've got some great ideas," she said. "You paint the top half, and I'll do the bottom half."

"All right," I answered, without thinking it through. "I'll leave it up to you, since you did such a great job with the rest of the place."

"Okay. Well, I suppose I should let you go. Just be careful, and don't go breaking a leg, or a wrist, or getting laryngitis!"

"I'll try not to!" I answered. "Bye!"

"Bye! Love you!" she replied before hanging up. I stood there for a moment, feeling as though I'd been punched in the gut, before setting the receiver down. I was sincerely glad that Serafim was in the bathroom, and had missed my reaction.

Lunch took a bit longer than usual, since Cesare had to cut Luc's food into bite-sized pieces so he could feed himself with his left hand, but he said he was feeling great.

"The pain-killers are wonderful!" he grinned. "I think I feel an addiction coming on... Does our insurance cover re-hab?"

"No, it doesn't. Now eat, before those wonderful pain-pills burn a hole in your stomach!" Diggs ordered.

Afterwards, we were swarmed by the media as we walked out of the hotel to the limo. News of last night's accident had spread, and Luc smiled and waved his bandaged hand at them, basking in the attention. I'd offered to take his carry-on case, and had a harder time making it into the car, what with all the cameras flashing at us.

Someone shoved a mic in my face and yelled, "Brian, would you care to comment on your relationship with Luc?!?"

"Huh?" I said, not sure what he meant. Diggs grabbed Luc's bag from me, hauling it into the car, as Leo practically pushed me in.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Leo yelled back at the reporter. "We're not going to dignify that question with a remark!"

Once inside, he turned to Diggs furiously. "What is the matter with these people?!?"

Diggs only shrugged.

"What was that all about?" I asked, confused.

"They think," Leo answered, enunciating every word clearly -- a sure sign he was angry -- "that since you carried Luc off the stage last night, you two must be lovers!"

I gaped at him.

"WHAT?!?"

"I say," Cesare interjected, "I would have carried him, myself, if Brian hadn't beat me to it!"

The thought of little Cesare trying to pull off something like that might have been humorous if I weren't struggling with what Leo had told me.

"But... come on! That's insane!" I protested. "I would have done as much for anybody else!"

"And that's exactly what you're gonna say if they ask again!" Leo snapped, seething.

"Now, Leo," Diggs said, patting his arm soothingly. "It's just another rumor that the tabloids spread to boost their sales. It'll be gone before you know it."

"I should hope so!" he growled. A vein in his forehead was pulsing dangerously.

"Of course it will," Luc said, still smiling as though he hadn't a care in the world. "And if it doesn't, I'll just announce that I'm madly in love with Leo!"

Leo glared at him with a look that could easily kill, and Diggs and Johann started to laugh. Cesare only shook his head ruefully.

"I knew I should have worn out your ass while I had you sedated," he said.

Luc's fey mood continued even onto the plane as we made the short hop to Phoenix. He started singing bawdy drinking songs in French, then begged Cesare to teach him some in Italian. Leo scowled and tried to concentrate on his Blackberry, but the cacophony had to be hard to ignore. Diggs, however, was efficiently typing away on his laptop.

I'd sat next to Johann as a matter of course, and soon found his hand in mine, interlacing our fingers. He looked dashing in the beige summer suit he was wearing, and I told him so. He blushed delicately, and leaned over to rest his head on my shoulder. As I kissed the top of his head, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I loved him. What bothered me was, did Michelle really feel this way about me? If so, why couldn't I feel the same way about her? Was there something wrong with me?

As if sensing my thoughts, Johann pulled away to look me in the eye.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No," I lied, and immediately regretted it. I could tell by the slight twitch in his expression that he wasn't buying it. "Yeah," I amended with a sigh. "Just... wondering, if Michelle feels... like I feel for you. And if so... why I never felt that way about her."

"Brian," he said, slowly choosing his words. "When I asked you, before, if you loved her... you said 'Yes.'"

"I know. But..." I struggled to express myself. "It wasn't... as deep, as all-encompassing, as what I feel for you! I've never felt like this before..."

He gazed at me, turning my insides to Jell-O.

"I know," he whispered. "Before... I met you, I thought, maybe, I loved Bernard. That maybe, that was... how do you say... as good as it gets."

He pulled my head down for a gentle kiss.

"This," he smiled, "is so much better!"

I was about to agree, when Luc called out to us from the other side.

"Hey, guys! You know you can put that armrest out of the way, right?"

He tapped the one between him and Cesare, which had been pushed up to create a loveseat.

"We don't mind if you guys wanna make out," he added, devilishly. "We just hope you don't mind if we watch!"

I could tell Leo's hand was shaking in fury, but couldn't help responding, "Okay, but we'll have to charge admission if you want us to strip!"

Johann put up the armrest and snuggled closer.

"No stripping!" he said, firmly. "I'm not sharing you with Luc anymore!"

Cesare looked over at him in interest.

"Why, Johann... you're not jealous, are you?"

Johann blushed, only answering, "Maybe."

He looked so uncomfortable and adorable at the same time, that I pulled up his chin to kiss him -- a much deeper kiss than the peck he'd given me earlier. Luc wolf-whistled at us, as Johann turned a deep shade of red.

"Yeah," I told my angel, as I finally released his mouth, "this is so much better!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Luc pull Cesare into a kiss, too.

"Nobody French kisses like the French!" he declared, and Cesare agreed with a happy grunt. Leo looked completely affronted, which only seemed to egg on our youngest tenor.

"Say, Leo," Luc began, "I think I know which song Cez and I should sing for our duet! It's a great Frankie favorite..."

And so prefaced, he started to sing at the top of his lungs, "I've got you~~~ under my foreskin!!!"

Diggs actually spewed his coffee, and Cesare and I howled with laughter, while Leo looked ready to strangle him.

"Would you stop!" he bellowed, as Luc repeated the same line over and over.

I was wiping tears from my eyes when Johann tugged on my shirt, shyly trying to get my attention.

"Brian," he asked, looking utterly confused, "what is so funny? Why is he singing 'four skins'?"

"Oh! Oh, dear," I replied, realizing that he wasn't familiar with that term. "Um... well... uh... it's not four, the number, but like 'before,' and... well..."

As I cast about for a tactful way to explain it, Leo finally got Luc to stop singing.

"Um... you know, when we were in the shower?"

"Yes?"

"Did you, uh... notice anything... different, between the two of us?"

"Well..."

Johann concentrated on remembering, but I had a sinking feeling that it wouldn't be obvious to him.

"Okay, so... you know, right there," I said, vaguely gesturing in that general direction, "you still have something that, well, I don't, anymore."

His eyes rounded as it dawned on him.

"Oh!" he gasped, then, "Oh!!! Luc, you are very bad boy!!!"

"Thank you," he smirked, satisfied.

 

Chapter 31- Conversation in a Hotel Hallway ​

After landing, we dropped off our luggage at the hotel, and were taken just across the street to the Phoenix Symphony Hall. The beautiful venue had been recently renovated, with real wood used for better acoustics, and when we walked in the Phoenix Symphony was already there, practicing for our concert. We jumped right into the rehearsal to give the sound guy a chance to do mic checks, and were warmly applauded by the musicians after the first song.

"I like this place," Johann commented during a break. "It remind me of some opera houses in Europe -- modern, but with classic atmosphere."

"Yeah, it has a retro feeling," I agreed.

It didn't take long to figure out the logistics of the stage, and soon we headed back to the Green Room to meet the stage manager and other people who made a production like this possible. Leo was busy texting again as we walked through the backstage corridors, but Diggs turned around and frowned.

"Where's Luc?" he asked Cesare, who flashed his signature smile.

"I'm sure he'll catch up. He was having trouble with his walking cast... perhaps I should go get him?"

"Don't bother -- I'll go," Diggs sighed, but before he could squeeze past us, Luc came hobbling up.

"Hey! Don't leave the crip behind," he complained.

"Would you rather have Brian carry you?" Diggs taunted. "Or we could give Cesare the chance to flex his muscles this time."

Luc only grinned. "I thought we were supposed to prevent any more injuries!"

"I heard that," Cesare snorted.

We could actually walk back to our hotel, it was so close, and Diggs explained that the area had a lot of convention centers and was designed for convenience.

"Tomorrow, we'll have the police stop traffic for ten minutes to let you guys cross -- red carpet and everything!"

"Cool!" Luc and I said, almost in unison.

"Better make that twenty minutes," Cesare added wryly, "since we have a 'crip' on our hands."

"Aren't you going to carry me, luv?" Luc shot back with a come-hither smirk.

"Only if I get to ride you tonight," Cesare smoothly replied.

"TMI, guys, TMI," Diggs groaned.

We each went to our assigned rooms to settle in and freshen up before dinner, and with a jolt I realized that Johann and I were in separate rooms again. No wonder he had been so wistful last night, on our last night in the honeymoon suite! On one hand I felt terribly lonely, but on the other I knew that we had to keep up appearances. Maybe it was for the best, I thought, since we were both having trouble keeping our hormones in check, and things had been progressing a bit too fast -- for my taste, anyway. It hadn't even been a week since we'd first kissed, and already we'd spent three nights and two showers together! And one of them extremely... intimate.

Also, I had to admit that it was awkward answering my daily phone call from Michelle with Johann in bed beside me. I wondered how it must have been for Johann. Awkward, obviously, but also -- as he'd admitted on the plane today -- perhaps there was a bit of jealousy? I hadn't thought of him as a jealous type until now, but it had to be difficult to hear me talking with the woman I was married to, unable to make a sound for fear of being found out. Had he ever felt like screaming at her, telling her I was his now? The way I wanted to yell at the man that had kept him captive for so long? I wondered, but didn't know of a tactful way to ask him. Yes, perhaps it was best that we spent our nights apart for now.

We reconvened and went up to the Compass Restaurant, a posh revolving floor at the top of the circular tower with a breathtaking panoramic view of the city. The sun was low on the western horizon when we sat down, and displayed a spectacular array of sunset colors by the time our main course was served.

"Oh! This is so good!" Johann praised, after his first bite of the jumbo scallops. My Black Angus rib-eye was superb as well, and we traded bites to see which was better, with inconclusive results.

"To the good life!" Cesare said, raising his glass of cabernet sauvignon. We all joined in his toast with enthusiasm.

When we went down to our rooms to turn in early for the night, I stopped to give Johann a good-night kiss in the hall, waiting, of course, until we were alone.

"Brian," he murmured, pulling out of the kiss, "I will miss you!"

"I'll miss you, too," I assured him, as I looked down into his slightly sad brown eyes. When I touched my lips to his forehead, he wrapped his arms around my middle and hugged me so tightly that I wondered if he would ever let go. Not anxious to be parted from him, either, I cradled his shoulders and stroked his hair, inhaling the scent of his shampoo. At least it smelled better than it tasted, I thought, remembering the moments we'd shared in the shower with a smile.

We both jumped when a door opened, but thankfully, it was only Cesare.

"Well... don't you two make a lovely picture!" he teased, strolling down the hall to the next door. He was carrying an armload of stuff -- what looked to be silk pajamas and a monogrammed bathrobe as well as all his toiletries -- so he kicked on the door instead of knocking. "I have to make sure the boy stays out of trouble, you know," he added with a wink, as the two of us slowly drew apart. I had to admit I felt envious of him, as he stood there confident in his relationship with his lover.

"What took you so long?" Luc griped as he opened the door to let him in.

"I was giving you time to beautify yourself," Cesare retorted. "Apparently, not long enough!"

The rest of their conversation was cut off when the door closed behind him. I sighed and gave Johann a kiss on each cheek as we wordlessly parted to go to our separate rooms.

After showering, I took out the sheet music for the new songs again, and propped myself up on all the pillows on the bed to sing through them and commit them to memory. I got bored after about ten minutes, and my mind started to wander... to the Getty Museum, where I'd walked with Johann down quiet corridors and galleries; to Chinatown, and Johann's childlike delight at throwing pennies into the wishing well; to the pool at the hotel in LA, and how stunning Johann had looked in only his swimming trunks; and to running pell-mell down the busy sidewalk, like a couple of schoolboys, just to get away from a photographer. I sighed as I realized that I really did miss him already, even though we'd been apart for only an hour. But in Vegas, we'd been together almost every minute of the day, and it had come to feel natural -- he was supposed to be here, right next to me, and his absence was an aching void.

If we were still rooming together, I thought, he'd be snuggling against my chest, looking at the music with me, maybe even singing with me. That would certainly keep my focus on the music! I loved these old songs, to be sure, but I loved hearing Johann's sweet voice singing them even more.

That gave me an idea. Maybe I could ask him to practice with me for an hour before going to bed. We would still sleep in our own rooms, but it would lessen the time we weren't together. Driven by an almost overwhelming need to see him, touch him, be with him, I jumped off of the bed and grabbed my key card, forgetting all of my well-intentioned resolutions about spending time apart.

I told myself I would knock on his door, very quietly, in case he had gone to bed already, but I needn't have worried -- the moment I opened my door, I saw him standing in the hall, talking to Diggs.

"Speak of the devil!" Diggs cried, as Johann turned around, startled.

"Uh... hi," I mumbled, not sure what to make of it. Diggs didn't give me a chance to think.

"You know you're an asshole, don't you?" he demanded, scowling. "Johann's been standing out here for five minutes, trying to screw up enough gumption to knock on your door!"

"You--You were?!?" I asked, gaping at Johann. He blushed and bit his lower lip.

"Go on, get in there!" Diggs said, pushing him towards me. "And for Pete's sake, don't leave him out in the cold again, or next time I'll take him to bed myself!"

I reached out to embrace my angel, and seeing his cheeks burn with embarrassment, I felt terrible.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know!" I said as I pulled him in close. "You didn't have to wait -- I mean, I was missing you, too, and I just... oh, Serafim!" I whispered helplessly as I kissed his face, over and over. He grabbed my shirt with both hands to steady himself, for he was trembling from head to toe.

"Well, now that that's settled," Diggs grumbled, "and since you all have paired off so nicely, I suppose I'll just have to try and seduce Leo."

We watched in shock as he knocked on Leo's door, repeatedly, until Leo opened it at last.

"Whaddaya want?" he snapped, surly and disheveled in his undershirt and boxers.

"We need to talk. Now!" Diggs replied, and pushed his way in. We watched in horrified fascination as the door closed behind him, and heard a loud thump as though someone had been shoved into the wall. Some muffled curses followed, then all was quiet.

"Do you really think--?"

"Diggs? And Leo?!?"

We looked at each other, with the same dazed expression.

"Let's not think about it, right now," I finally said, swallowing hard. "I'm just glad to have you with me, Serafim..."

"I'm not... an imposition?" he asked. The anxiety in his eyes cut into me like a knife.

"Of course not! I missed you so much, in just the short time we were apart..."

I pulled him into my room and closed the door before kissing him, long and deep, as though his lips provided vital nourishment for my soul. He returned it with equal fervor, making my blood run hot.

"I thought, maybe... it would be better," he began, tentatively.

"I did, too. But it didn't work," I explained. "I kept thinking about you, and I just needed an excuse to have you near me!"

"Excuse?"

"Yeah. Will you help me practice these?" I asked, leading him to the bed where I'd left my music scattered. I needed something... neutral, to focus on.

"Of course!"

The sweet smile he gave me as he gathered up the pages would have melted iron, I was sure. We lay side by side on the bed as we sang the new songs, and when we grew tired, there was no question as to where we would each be sleeping -- we would sleep where we both belonged, in each other's arms.

 

Chapter 32- Slash Fan Fiction ​

I marveled at the serene beauty that lay in my arms the next morning, as I drowsily stroked his cheek with the back of my fingers. Serafim was still sleeping, his lips slightly parted, with an expression that was both innocent and seductive at the same time. My body was aching for release, but I didn't want to wake him up just yet -- he looked so angelic, and I wanted nothing more than to watch him breathe.

Any fantasies I had of watching him wake up naturally were shattered by the all-too-loud clamoring of the phone. He moaned as I rolled over to grab it, and I noted that it was an hour earlier than usual. Michelle must have forgotten to check the time zone again.

"Hello?"

"I got to see it, after all!" came her joyous voice.

"See what?"

"You, when you carried the French guy off the stage! They showed it on Inside Edition last night, and it's on YouTube now!"

"YouTube?" I echoed, incredulous. "How'd it get on there?"

"Someone at the concert had a mini-DVR, and recorded the whole thing -- they showed him tripping and falling, then all you guys swarming him like a SWAT team, and then you carrying him off. They even showed a bit of your duet with what's-his-name, the cute one, and then when you carried the guy back out onto the stage. The whole concert's on YouTube, but the part where you carried him off is a separate segment, and is close to going viral!"

"Oh," I answered, although it hadn't sunk in yet. "I guess... well, poor Luc! It was embarrassing enough to fall in front of all those people, but to have people around the world seeing it over and over..."

"They're not watching the clip where he fell, silly!" Michelle interrupted. "It's the part where you picked him up and carried him off like a little princess that they're watching over and over. The fan girls think you're a hot gay couple!"

I wasn't sure what to make of the obvious glee in my wife's voice. After a moment's consideration, I decided to take it that she was secure enough in my heterosexuality to find it amusing.

"Judas Priest... I had a reporter asking me about it yesterday, now that you mention it," I told her, and recounted what had happened. "Why do they have to think we're gay? I would've done the same if it had been Cesare or Johann that had gotten hurt."

"Oh, Brian!" I could almost hear the shrug in her voice. "That's just what fan girls do! I wouldn't worry about it -- it may even help with your CD sales! But if you want a real laugh, you should check out Fan-Fiction-dot-com, or was it dot-net? Anyway, they have a separate category just for Quartetto, and since that concert the postings have been going crazy!"

"What is this? Fan-Fiction?"

"Yeah, they have people posting stories, mostly slash, and some of it's just too funny!"

"Slash? Like... slasher films?"

She laughed, and I felt like a total ignoramus. "No, no -- slash is where they pair their favorite guys to be gay lovers, and write hot porn stories about them! There's a ton of stories about you and the French guy, how you swept him off his feet and he's fallen madly in love with you, and there's even some about you and what's-his-name, Johann, being secret lovers, and now there's this vicious love triangle between the three of you! It's just hilarious!!"

I wasn't sure I saw the humor in all that, being the subject of said stories, but I supposed if you couldn't do anything to stop it, laughing at it was the next best way to cope.

"Well... that's... weird," I finally said. Thankfully, it didn't seem to dampen Michelle's mood.

"Weird, yeah, but in a good way! Any media attention is good for sales. And besides, I've never been prouder of my big, strong Brian! You looked so great, carrying him off like he weighed nothing! A real knight in shining armor!"

I felt a wrench in my gut, but managed to reply, "Hey, thanks," without much enthusiasm. She hung up soon afterwards, and I sighed in relief and turned to Johann, who had been silently studying my expression.

"The media thinks you and Luc are lovers?" he asked, in confirmation.

"Yep. And a lot of the fans, too, apparently..."

"It's on YouTube? The concert?"

"Yeah. But people are watching the part where I carried him off more."

He nodded, as though he had assumed as much.

"And what does your wife think?"

I had to grin sardonically on that one.

"She thinks it's hilariously funny! She's been reading some stories people have been writing about it, and says I should, too. I guess she's so sure I'm not gay that she's not worried about what people think."

"Well, at least she's not suspicious," Johann pointed out.

"True."

"Those stories... they are on the Internet?"

"Yeah. Some website called Fan-Fiction something."

"We should have Diggs check it out."

"Yeah." I got the sudden urge to bury my face in a pillow. "Ew!"

"What is it?"

"I just remembered... Diggs... Leo..."

"Maybe nothing happened..." Johann said, hopefully, but without conviction.

We had utterly and completely no desire to interrupt the others, in case something had happened, so after a leisurely breakfast we went down to the fitness room to work out. They didn't have much in the way of weight training equipment, but plenty for cardio, so I put Johann on a bike and got on a treadmill facing him.

"This is too easy," he said, after a few minutes. "I can do something harder than this!"

"I don't want to tire you out. Don't forget, we have another concert tonight."

"I know, but still..."

"Crank up the resistance on that, if you want."

"Can't I run next to you?"

"No." He seemed startled by my flat answer, so I grinned. "You're generating a breeze with that thing, and I'd get too hot without it."

Realizing that I'd positioned myself where I'd catch the most wind from his wheel, he laughed, and started pedaling faster. By the time we were done, he'd worked up just as much of a sweat as I had.

"Come on, we'll take the stairs," I said, opening the door to the stairwell. I didn't want to get in an elevator and foist our smelly selves onto some unsuspecting people. "Last one up is a rotten egg!"

"What? What do you say?" Johann asked, then had to dash up the stairs to keep up with me. He got the point that it was a friendly race, and jostled me around the corners, trying to get ahead. We were laughing, almost giggling like schoolgirls, by the time we made it up to our floor.

"How did you say that?" he asked again, panting, as we entered the hallway. "Rotten egg?!?"

"Yep. Last one to wherever is a rotten egg."

He shook his head, amused. "Americans!"

"Yeah, well, you know you love us!"

He looked up at me with a brilliant smile. "I do," he admitted, without hesitation.

As my stomach turned somersaults within me, I realized that he was following me into my room. I fumbled with my key card, thinking maybe he only needed to pick up the key card to his own room, but another part of me hoped that he would stay. In fact, my male organ was hoping desperately that he would not only stay, but join me in the shower again. Our previous experience had been... extremely satisfying.

When we entered the room, I began to grab stuff for my shower as nonchalantly as I could, while watching what Johann -- Serafim -- would do out of the corner of my eye. Much to my disappointment, he picked up his own key card, then mine, and came over to kiss me.

"I'll be right back," he said, his taste lingering on my lips as he walked out. I expelled my breath in frustration, and went into the bathroom to start showering, thinking to myself that although this room wasn't made for two, the bathtub was still spacious enough to fit the two of us comfortably, especially if we were standing.

My assessment was proven right when, within a few minutes, Serafim came back.

"Serafim?!?"

"Yes?"

I pulled back the shower curtain and gawked at him as he stripped out of my sweatpants and t-shirt.

"Oh, Brian! You didn't think I was leaving you now, did you?" he chided gently.

"Well, I... I wasn't sure..."

He stepped into the bathtub with me, proving that yes, indeed, there was plenty of room for both of us.

"Silly Brian! How could I resist seeing you... like this?"

His hands slid over my soapy chest, sending shivers throughout my body. Immediately, my manhood was on high alert. My face flushed as his eyes were drawn to it.

"So strong! So... powerful," he breathed, memorizing my length and girth. I had always considered myself average in that department, but being with him seemed to bring out my potential to its fullest. Now I noticed that he was no lightweight in that arena, either, and it was doubly exciting to realize that I could have the same effect on him as well.

"Serafim," I gasped, my throat dry, hungrily reaching out for him.

"Not yet," he said, with a sultry look, and backed away from me to the other end of the stall. He squeezed some shampoo onto his hand, then began to rub it into the lush brown pelt between his legs, leaning back against the wall and putting one foot up on the edge of the bathtub. I watched, mesmerized, as he fondled himself.

"Brian," he panted, and I almost lost it. With what little was left of my rational mind, I took some shampoo, too, and mirrored his actions. Both of us were leaking within seconds, and breathing so hard that we could hardly hear the sound of the shower. We drowned it out as we started to call each other's names, and moaned as our twin fountains began to spurt. Serafim emptied himself completely a few seconds before I did, his ecstasy goading me to mine.

We leaned against the wall, weakly, as we tried to catch our breath. Taking in the beautiful sight of my angel, happy and sated, I saw that I had left a trail of slime down one of his legs. I picked up the washcloth that I'd dropped when he came in, re-soaped it, and moved over to wash him.

"Oh, Brian!" he murmured, begging for a kiss. Our lips touched, then our tongues, languidly affirming our pleasure in each other.

"I think I'm going to need a nap," I told him, and he mumbled his assent as I washed his back.

 

Chapter 33- The Phoenix Concert ​

The phone rang and I automatically jumped to get it, thinking it was Michelle, but it turned out to be Leo.

"It's twelve-thirty already! Get up, get dressed, and meet us out in the hall pronto! We're all going to lunch together to prevent any more rumors," he ordered. I groaned and hung up, burying my face in Serafim's stomach again. He combed through my hair with his fingers, the way he had done earlier to lull me to sleep.

"We should get moving," he said, gently. "Maybe there will be time for another nap in the afternoon."

We dressed as quickly as we could and got out to the hall where the rest of them were waiting for us. I warily observed Leo for any indications of a change in attitude, but could find none. Johann even questioned Diggs with a raised eyebrow in the elevator, but only got a blank look in reply. So be it, I figured -- some things I would rather not know!

During lunch I informed the group of what Michelle had said, and Diggs agreed to look it up right away.

"I brought my laptop, too," Luc said, "so if Cez doesn't mind typing, we can have two searches going."

"This is what I get," Leo muttered, as if to himself, "for putting together a bunch of bloody fairies..."

"Well, what did you expect?" Diggs shot back. "As Cesare pointed out before, you are in show biz!"

"I just wanted to make a profit," he growled.

"If that's your only goal," Luc grinned wickedly, "you should have us do porn movies! You could make a killing on a website with beautiful guys like us!"

Outnumbered and outwitted, it was no wonder that Leo left as soon as he had eaten his burger. The rest of us waited for Luc and Johann to finish their desserts before heading up to Diggs' room, where Cesare brought Luc's computer, too.

"So, this site is Fan-Fiction-dot-something, right?" Diggs asked, typing it in. "Ah! It's dot-net, but you can get there either way. Here's the search function... type Quartetto... Holy shit! There's over six thousand stories here!"

As Johann and I crowded behind him to see, Cesare followed the same steps to see the list.

"It looks like you can search according to characters," Luc observed. "Try me and Brian first!"

Diggs obliged, and found over three thousand were dedicated to our supposed relationship.

"Wow, there's even a rating system!" Diggs said, pointing out another function for narrowing the search. "Let's try 'M' for the most naughty..."

Even then, there were still almost two thousand stories. While Diggs started picking out some of those to read at random, Cesare searched for stories on him and Luc, and sadly came up with very few.

"Ah, well! True love is often misunderstood," he sighed, shaking his head tragically.

"If it's any consolation, old man," Luc said, hugging his partner's shoulders with one arm in a cast, "I still love ya!"

"Listen to this!" Diggs interrupted. "This is hot stuff! 'As Luc felt Brian's strong arms wrapped around him protectively, he was freed from his inhibitions, and as soon as they reached the sanctity of the curtains, he whispered urgently into the big American's ear, "Take me here! Take me now!" Ignoring the paramedics, the stagehands, and the other two singers, they wrangled on the floor in a passionate kiss as they tore at each other's clothes...'"

"Sacre bleu!" Luc exclaimed. For Luc, who spoke flawless English, to revert to his native French, was an indication of how startled he was. "That's just sick and wrong!"

"Not to mention unprofessional," Diggs remarked. "I should hope you would wait until after the performance, at least."

"Johann, you may be interested to know," Cesare piped up, "there's two thousand four hundred nineteen stories about you and Brian. That's for all categories, naughty ones included."

"Sacre bleu, indeed," Johann echoed. "I want to see one that's not so naughty..."

We spent nearly two hours poring over various stories, reading some portions aloud to the amazement or laughter of the others, until it was time to go to the Symphony Hall and prepare for the concert.

"So much for another nap," I yawned, as Johann rubbed his eyes.

"I never knew there was so much smut on the Internet," Luc murmured, a glazed expression on his face. "And it's all free!"

"I think we'd better leave the laptop here," Cesare said, firmly closing the top and turning it off. "I don't want you getting all hot and bothered, and jumping my bones during the concert!"

The fans seemed to appreciate Luc even more than before, due to the scare he'd given them, and brought so many flowers to the stage that he had a mound of them in a matter of minutes. In fact, even I had a small mound of flowers in my spot on the stage, which was a first. I picked one up when I wasn't singing and used it to blow kisses to the audience, just to show my appreciation. I was shocked to hear girls scream in response -- I'd never elicited a reaction like that before!

Things were going smoothly until we came to a chatting break, where it had been agreed that Luc would discuss his injury in more detail to satisfy the fans. We were all sitting down in the chairs that had been brought out to let Luc stay off his feet as much as possible, sipping from our bottles of water as Luc described the fracture in his wrist, when he started to go off on a tangent.

"Anyway, because I was such a klutz, the people at the last concert got a special sneak preview of the duet Brian and Johann will be doing for the new CD. So, for all of you here tonight, I thought it would only be fair if Cesare and I performed the duet we'll be recording for the new CD!"

I was stunned -- not only had we not done that in rehearsal, but I didn't think they had even chosen their duet song! My fears were confirmed when I heard Leo bawling into our earpieces, "What the hell are you thinking?!? What're you doing?!? That isn't in the programme!!!"

I turned to Johann, who looked equally perplexed, but Cesare and Luc were already walking to the front of the stage, and we heard the Symphony start playing a familiar intro. I was petrified with terror -- it was the intro to "I've Got You Under My Skin"!

"Make him stop! Make him stop!!!" Leo howled, almost weeping on the last word. I could just see our group's reputation going down the drain, through the sewer, and into oblivion to the tune of Luc's manic rendition of "I've got you~~~ under my foreskin!"

However, much to my relief (and Leo's), Luc actually sang it straight -- that is to say, with the original words only, and Cesare seemed to have been in on the joke, for they performed it with as much class and style as any of our other songs. Johann smiled and leaned over to whisper to me, "They must have practiced it without telling us." I nodded, thinking of all the time they'd spent together since last night. Yeah, they'd had us going, all right!

When they were done, we rejoined them to finish the set. Backstage, Leo came charging into the changing room looking loaded for bear. I had to admire Luc for his calm in the face of imminent death.

"I asked the Symphony yesterday if they could play that song, too, as a special favor to me," he informed Leo and the rest of us. "They were so obliging! And now," he grinned with impunity, "you have to let us record it!"

Leo couldn't even verbalize his thoughts, he was so furious, but Diggs mildly commented, "Well, at least you performed it decently well. Although I liked 'the gay song' better, myself."

"I did, too, but I thought this one would fit in better with the other selections," Luc replied, smoothing his cummerbund before turning to Leo. "Don't you agree?"

"Just. Get. Out. There. And. Stay. With. The. Programme!" he spat out through gritted teeth, then turned on his heel and left. Luc made an exaggerated shrug.

"Some people just don't have a heart for music," he sighed.

The next few days went by in a blur, since we had a concert almost every other night. After Phoenix, we moved to Dallas, then went on to Nashville, where we had a female streaker interrupt the performance. Luc got the giggles (aided, no doubt, by his pain killers), and we had to take a five-minute break for him to get it out of his system. And really, not even Leo could blame him, when he gasped out, "She must not have gotten the memo -- we're gay!!" and the rest of us succumbed to the inherent irony of the situation.

Although I hadn't noticed any changes in Leo initially, Johann thought he was mellower than before, and had even caught him smiling at odd moments, so we continued to wonder about Diggs' progress in converting him "to our side," as Luc phrased it. We had let the other two in on the secret while we were reading more stories on Luc's laptop, the day of the Dallas concert, and they had been watching Leo like hawks as well. "If Brian could be converted, there's hope even for Leo!" Cesare declared. While I wasn't sure I could be used as a Litmus Test for all males, I certainly hoped that Leo could be persuaded, if only for the selfish reason that he might become more even-tempered and congenial towards us.

As for Serafim and me, we continued to sleep together -- in the purest sense of the word -- despite having separate rooms reserved, and had progressed from simply watching each other jerk off to helping. Although we had a tacit agreement that touching each other's privates was taboo, suckling Serafim's nipples in sync with his strokes was acceptable, and sometimes we even made out while rubbing ourselves individually.

One night I awoke to discover, with some embarrassment, that my manhood was stiffly prodding Serafim in the leg, and was trying to move away from him to take care of it privately when he grabbed my arm to keep me in place. He shifted until he had sandwiched it between his thighs, his back to my chest, then began to squeeze it gently, with an undulating motion, driving me to heights of ecstasy with a dexterity I would not have believed possible. After I had spilled myself all over his pajamas, I asked, gasping, if he considered this to be in accordance with the "no touch" rule as well.

"Well, I didn't use my hands..." came his reply, which was good enough for me. I had a new appreciation for the "spooning" position, and it became our preferred position from that night on.

 

Chapter 34- Andrew and Sara ​

The Nashville concert -- ever after known as the infamous "Streaker Concert" -- was exactly a week before our final performance. The next morning, on the plane to Chicago, I was ruminating on the fact that I had only one more week before I would be going home, to the apartment in New York that I shared with Michelle. Only seven days in which to come up with a plan to let her down gently... and apart from the fact that I was leaving her for another man, not another woman, I still had no clue how!

I also found it ironic that I was in Chicago this weekend -- the place where I'd met her, fallen in love (or so I'd thought), and gotten married. There were so many memories that I would be tainting for her with the retroactive poison of our breakup, perhaps by this very time next week.

Johann seemed to know where my thoughts were without even asking, and was giving me time to think things through. He sat quietly next to me, one hand in mine, reading through a sheaf of papers. Diggs had printed some stories from the Internet about us, selecting sweet, romantic ones that he thought Johann would enjoy. Inevitably, my counterpart in those stories was far more confident, smart, and sensitive than the original. I'd considered asking him not to read them anymore, as I was afraid he would grow disillusioned with the real me, but that seemed cowardly -- shouldn't I be striving to become more of the man he deserved? And that meant figuring out how to take care of my unfinished business with Michelle, so we could start our new lives together.

I didn't realize I was rubbing the back of his hand with my thumb until he squeezed back, then looked up at me and smiled.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked.

"Oh... nothing much. Just the usual..." I answered, trying not to sound too down, and apparently failing.

"You are thinking about... when you lived in Chicago?"

"That too..."

I sighed, knowing that I'd gotten nowhere with my moping, and wishing that I had half the clarity of thought that Johann did. He put the papers down so he could massage my hand in both of his.

"Remember in the taxi, you rub my hand, like this? Because I had to sign for so many people?"

"Yeah, I remember." A smile crept into my face. "You were mobbed by those tourists!"

"Yes, and you rescued me!" he laughed. "Sometimes, Brian... I wish I can help you, like you help me..."

"Huh?" I asked, as brilliant as ever. "What do you mean?"

"You... protect me, and you try to protect your wife... you even help Luc, when he was hurt! But who helps you, Brian? When you are hurting, who protects you?"

His warm brown eyes were searching deep into mine.

"I want to be the one, Brian, so much! I want to help you, if I can..."

I kissed his forehead lightly, moved almost to tears by his caring, and unable to speak for a minute.

"Maybe you can..." I thought aloud. "Do you know... what you're going to say... when you tell Bernard?"

"About us?" he queried, seeming a bit puzzled.

"Yeah. Do you have... some sort of plan?"

"No, no plan... I will just tell him the truth."

"The truth," I repeated, stunned by the simplicity of his plan -- or non-plan.

"Yes. I will tell him, I fall in love with you, and cannot be with him anymore." He peered into my face quizzically. "What more can I say?"

"Nothing, I guess," I answered, chiding myself for missing something so obvious. "Like they say, honesty is the best policy."

"Yes." He rubbed my hand, playing with each of my fingers thoughtfully. "You know... it will not be easy to do this. There is no way to say something that will hurt someone, and try to pretend it is not so bad. No matter how you say it, it will hurt them... and you."

I clenched all of his fingers within my grasp, knowing that he was right, and appreciating the fact that he understood.

"You're right, of course." I pulled up his hands and kissed them. "No use trying to candy-coat a bitter pill like this..."

"No," he murmured, "but 'the truth shall set you free.'"

The familiar words echoed in my heart.

"Free," I repeated, tasting the word for its nuances. Free to be with Johann, my Serafim, my angel! Free to be happy. Free to love.

"Tell me about your apartment in Salzburg," I asked.

"Our apartment in Salzburg," he smiled.

Later that day, as we were finishing our inspection of the venue in Chicago, Diggs walked onto the stage with a smug expression that usually was not a good omen.

"Brian, I have a little surprise for you," he confessed, grinning from ear to pierced ear. He'd not been with us for the tour of the facilities, and now I suspected that it had something to do with my surprise.

"Oh?" I asked, warily.

"I've been working on it for a few weeks," he explained, letting the suspense build. "Since this is the closest concert location to your home town, I wanted to give your family an opportunity to attend."

He stepped aside as a familiar face appeared from the stage curtains behind him.

"Andrew?" I asked in disbelief.

"Hey, Bri!" he cried out, crossing the stage in his cowboy boots to grab me in a bear hug.

"What're you doing here?!?"

"Got free tickets!" he joked, cocking a thumb at Diggs. "Couldn't pass them up, seein's how it was so close to our anniversary."

I saw his wife coming up behind him then, a broad smile lighting up her freckled face.

"Sara! So glad to see you!!"

"Brian! You're looking good! Are they feedin' you right?"

"Yeah, they are," I laughed, still stunned. I would never have believed any of my brothers would come to a concert like ours -- especially Andrew!

"I was actually trying to get your dad to come," Diggs explained, "but he said he couldn't leave the farm, and suggested having your brother come instead."

"He got to Sara first," Andrew admitted, a bit sheepishly, "or I might not've agreed to it, but I figured hey, I should see what all the fuss is about, at least once!"

"Well, I'm glad you did!" I said. "Thanks for talking him into it, Sara!"

"Oh, don't thank me," she smiled, "I just love your music! I play the CD you gave me all the time."

"Ah! A fan!!" Cesare cried, taking her hand and kissing it with a flourish. She giggled, turning red, as the other two followed suit. Andrew just shook his head.

"All this romantic stuff," he muttered. "How do you manage to pull it off with a straight face?"

"Pure talent," I told him, and he gave me a knuckle sandwich.

"We heard you practicing just now," he grunted, "and I can't believe people would pay good money just to sit and listen to it."

"Of course they do!" Leo countered, looking shocked and somewhat offended. "And I'll have you know, the seats we put you in run a hundred fifty dollars, each!"

Andrew's jaw dropped, and I had to laugh -- I didn't think he'd ever paid so much money for anything that didn't run on wheels.

"Of course," Diggs added, "there's a discount for members of the official Quartetto Fan Club."

"A hundred fifty..." Andrew muttered, flabbergasted.

"That's three hundred for a couple," I pointed out with glee. "Not to mention the cost of parking, dinner, and a hotel room if you're from out of town."

"It's actually not too bad," Larry, the stage manager, interjected. "We had Van Halen come through last year on their reunion tour, and the front row tickets were two hundred."

"What?!? They charged more for some washed-out rock band than us?!?" Luc exclaimed indignantly. "Maybe we should do rock!"

I laughed at the thought, then remembered something.

"Hey, Johann can sing Bryan Adams!"

"No way!" Luc cried, and all of us turned to him. I felt slightly bad to see that Johann was blushing furiously, but he answered, "Yes way!" readily, and launched into "Back in the Summer of '69" with spirit. Luc and I joined in on the chorus, deliberately making our voices gravelly:

"Standin' on your momma's porch,
You told me that you'd wait forevah,
Oh, and when you held my hand,
I knew that it was now or nevah --
Those were the best days of mah life!"

"I refuse to sing like that," Cesare snorted indignantly.

"Then you'll just have to learn how to play guitar," Luc told him with a smirk.

Diggs had reserved seats for all of us, including Andrew and Sara, at a posh restaurant near our hotel for dinner. Apparently, he'd gotten Leo to consent to putting them up in Chicago for the whole weekend. I made a point of thanking both of them, but Diggs laughed it off.

"Don't thank me, it's coming out of your paycheck!"

"It's worth it, then," I told him, grinning, "just to see my brother, the farmer, in a sport coat!"

It was actually mine, as well as the dress shirt, which he'd had to wear to get into the restaurant. He growled at me from across the table, but Sara was beaming.

"I always knew he would clean up nice, if he only tried," she teased.

"I'll leave that to Bri," he grumbled. "I already wore a monkey suit at our wedding!"

"We'll be sure to put you back in it for your funeral," I promised, pretending to duck as he glared daggers at me. I noticed that Johann was grinning at us.

"So, what was Brian like as a kid?" Luc asked, curiously. "Was he always the snappiest dresser of your family? Did he rescue damsels in distress and carry them off when they sprained their ankles?"

"No damsels," Andrew replied, laughing (he'd obviously seen the Vegas concert video), "but he used to bring home all sorts of strays. Once found a bagful of kittens that hadn't been drowned right."

"They turned out to be good ratters," I pointed out. "At least, the two that survived."

Andrew conceded that with a nod. "Didn't think you'd get into something like this, though! Figured you might get a scholarship for football, maybe basketball, but singing? Never saw it coming!"

"Well, we're certainly glad to have him," Cesare declared magnanimously.

"Yeah, he does all right, eh?" Andrew said, with a hint of pride. "'Specially when you need someone hauled off in a hurry!"

We all laughed, Luc agreeing most heartily, but I saw Johann scowling out of the corner of my eye. I was shocked, having never seen such an expression on him before.

"Brian's biggest contribution to our group, though," he broke in, when our laughter had settled down, "is how nice guy he is! And his voice is great anchor for our sound. We would not do so good if not for him!"

"Hear, hear!" Cesare seconded, raising his glass in a toast. "To Brian, our biggest, baddest, baritone-bass!"

I blushed as they all drank to me, but mostly from Johann's words. I was both humbled and honored to know that he meant them.

 

Chapter 34- The John Hancock Tower & Chicago Concert ​

After agreeing to meet up with everyone in the morning for a short tour of Chicago, Johann and I retired to our separate rooms, where our luggage had already been taken. I was wondering if I should wait at my door to let him in, when I noticed another door in the short hallway, and heard it being unlocked on the other side. I hastened to do the same, and opened it to Johann's cheery, "Long time no see!"

"Yeah! This is convenient," I commented, pulling him close for a much-needed hug, having stayed a safe distance away while in "mixed company."

"Diggs arranged for this," he explained into my shoulder. "He knew you wouldn't want your brother to see us walk into same room."

"Um-hmm," I mumbled, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne. I kissed him again, the proper French way, before we started unpacking. We showered in our separate bathrooms this time, but he came over and crawled into my bed as a matter of course.

"You don't look much like your brother," he commented, cupping my face in both his hands. "But I think you're handsomer."

"Really? That's a relief!" I laughed. "I'm sure Sara would beg to differ, though."

His smile warmed me like the summer sun.

"That's okay. He is good man for her, but I have best man for me!"

I pulled him closer to rest his head on my chest.

"I hope you'll always feel that way."

"Always," he promised.

When Michelle called in the morning, I told her about Andrew and Sara coming to Chicago, and she wanted to know where we'd be going. It was Sunday, so she didn't have much to do.

"I wish I'd known they were gonna be there! I could've flown out to see you all," she sighed.

My heart froze for a moment, thinking of her coming to see me -- and expecting, well... a conjugal visit.

"Yeah, too bad we didn't plan it that way," I managed, "but I didn't know they were coming until they walked onto the stage yesterday."

"Well, have a good time! Eat a double chocolate doughnut for me!"

Which was exactly what I did, about a half-hour later, as we took over two tables at the nearest Dunkin' Donuts devouring a day's worth of sugar and caffeine. Johann hesitated before sitting next to me, but the other table was already full with Luc, Cesare, Diggs, and Leo, so I made a point of smiling at him to let him know he was welcome, regardless of my family being there.

We had the limo drive us by the Water Tower, up Michigan Avenue and down Lake Shore Drive, then went out for a quick walk on the Navy Pier, where we were mobbed by a couple dozen people who knew Quartetto. Andrew was surprised to find out that even I had fans who wanted my autograph, and shook his head in wonder, while Sara giggled with delight.

Our final stop was the John Hancock Tower -- less known than the Sears Tower, and shorter, but less crowded and with a better view of Lake Michigan. Being Sunday, the line was still long, but it was well worth the wait. We took two different elevators to get to the observation deck, where we were accosted again by some fans, and signed whatever was thrust our way for fifteen minutes before Diggs asked people to let us admire the view. One older gentleman actually put several quarters into the binoculars for us as we each shook hands with his beaming wife.

I pointed out the Music Conservatory and the area Michelle and I had lived to Andrew, Sara, and Johann. I could tell my brother was getting overwhelmed by the sheer number of people -- not only in the observation deck, but in the city, as we looked over all the buildings in the downtown area.

"How could you live where it's so crowded?" he asked, almost in awe.

"You learn to manage," I told him. "New York's even worse. But at least I get to travel!"

He shook his head again. "Golly!"

I noticed that Johann had made his way towards the gift shop, and was looking over his shoulder at me. Thinking he wanted to ask me something about the Windy City, I went to his side. He smiled a bit shyly and pointed to a bronze replica of the Hancock Tower, almost a foot high.

"I want to get a momento," he said.

"Memento," I automatically corrected him.

"Memento, memento," he repeated. "What do you think of that?"

"It's nice. Big, though..."

"I think it will look good..." he hesitated, then added, "en notre appartement [in our apartment]."

My heart skipped a beat. He wanted to pick out something that would be special for both of us, especially since I had lived in this city -- even though it had been with my wife. I looked into his eyes for a long moment, appreciating his gracious spirit anew.

"Je pense qu'il est beau [I think it's beautiful]," I told him. "Mais je lui payerai! [But I'll pay for it!]"

"Don't, Brian!" he protested, but I quickly told the clerk what I wanted and pulled out my credit card.

"Permettez-moi, mon ange [Allow me, my angel]," I insisted. "Je veux obtenir quelque chose pour notre appartement [I want to get something for our apartment]."

He blushed, then conceded, "Okay."

I asked the clerk to double-bag it, since it was quite heavy, and after glancing at the others to make sure that they weren't looking, handed it to Johann.

"Pour nous [For us]," I said.

"Pour nous," he echoed, a happy smile on his lips.

After a sumptuous lunch at The Signature Room at the 95th, the floor above the observation deck, we headed back to the hotel for a nap. Sara wanted to do some shopping, so we dropped her and Andrew off at Macy's. Back at the hotel, Johann spoke to the concierge about mailing the statue to his apartment (our apartment) in Salzburg, and seeing that it was a souvenir from the Windy City that would be crossing the Atlantic, the man offered to handle it himself.

"I like Chicago," Johann sighed contentedly, as he settled into my arms. "So busy, and so... modern!"

"What is Salzburg like?" I asked, thinking of the other European cities I'd been to.

"More... relaxed, I think. Older. Much more ties to history. But... nice. Friendly."

I kissed him on the cheek one last time before drifting off.

"I look forward to living there."

I was glad to learn that Diggs had made dinner reservations for Andrew and Sara at a nice but casual place near the hotel, since the rest of us had to go to the concert hall to prepare. Our own dinner was the usual array of sandwiches and fruit, with the special addition of several dozen Dunkin' Donuts.

"I love you, Diggs!" I said, almost fervently, helping myself to a bismark.

"It's a special treat," Diggs informed us, "since you guys just topped the classical charts in Europe!"

Our jaws all dropped, and Leo actually grinned. Then we whooped, yelled, and made a general ruckus as we celebrated the amazing news. Johann hugged me, and Luc threw off his walking cast, yelling "I'm healed! I'm healed!" as Cesare pumped Leo's hand.

When the concert started, I saw Andrew and Sara in the second row, right in front of my usual spot. I gave them a thumbs up when I wasn't singing, and hoped Andrew wouldn't fall asleep, or at least not snore, during the performance. Sara, of course, looked like she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

During our greetings and introductions after the first song, Cesare mentioned that we had "special guests" and turned to me.

"Would you care to introduce them, Brian?"

I hadn't known he was going to do that, but went with the flow.

"Certainly. Ladies and gentlemen, meet my big brother, Andrew, and his lovely wife Sara!"

Andrew turned beet red, and Sara scarlet, as I pointed them out and people cheered.

"Yes, ladies, Brian does have brothers," Luc informed them, "but the sad news is, they're all taken!"

A collective "Awww" of disappointment rose from the audience. I could tell we had a fun-loving crowd tonight.

"But we do have good news, too," Johann added. "Thanks to all the wonderful fans like you, we just topped the classical charts in Europe!"

The cheers became deafening, and we stood together to hold hands as we did a collective bow.

"The other good news," Cesare put in, "is that Luc's ankle is feeling better, so he's going to go without his walking cast tonight."

Luc's fans started calling out, "Luc! Luc! Luc! Luc!" like they were at a sporting event, and he pulled up the hem of his pant leg to delighted shrieks from the girls.

"Yes, we're all glad that Luc is doing better," Johann said, smiling at his antics, "but I think it is interesting, that our sales went up after he got hurt!"

"You might be onto something..." Cesare said, cocking one eyebrow significantly.

"What?!? You want me to get hurt again?!?" Luc said, as if startled.

"No, no... You're too much trouble when you're in pain," Cesare brushed off. "No, I think it had something to do with our big baritone-bass, Brian, carrying you off the stage!"

I blushed, realizing where this was going.

"So, you think I should carry him off again, and see if our sales improve?"

"I can walk on my own now, thank you very much!" Luc protested.

"Well, then," said Johann, as though the thought had only now occurred to him, "why don't you carry Cesare? He's small enough, don't you think?"

The crowd went wild, so I knew we were in for it. Cesare looked shocked, which either meant he didn't think he would be the one, or else he was a really good actor.

"Come here, my little man -- it's all for the cause!" I said as I approached him. But instead of carrying him like I had with Luc, I bent over to bring my shoulder down to his waist, and picked him up like a sack of potatoes, hanging onto his legs with one arm as I flung him face-down over my back.

"Brian!" he cried out, rather panicked. I turned towards his voice, asking "What?" as he rotated away from me on my shoulder. The audience laughed as we repeated this twice, then Cesare yelled in exasperation, "Set me down! I'm scared of heights!!"

I set him down immediately, but the crowd continued to roar.

"You all right?" I asked him, trying to steady him. He staggered around with exaggerated moves.

"I think I'll live," he gasped into his mic, which he hadn't let go of for a second, pure professional that he was.

"Well," Johann interrupted, "now I'm feeling left out! I'm only one Brian hasn't picked up!"

So, setting my mic on a stool, I squatted down in front of him.

"Upsa-daisy!" I said, and he hopped lightly onto my back, and blew kisses to the crowd as I trotted back and forth on the stage for a minute. I could hear girls screaming Johann's name and mine, too, for a change, so after letting Johann off, I turned to catch Andrew's eye.

"See, Andrew! People actually do like me!" I told him through my mic. Thankfully, we had a long intro to our second song, which let me catch my breath, and gave the audience a chance to settle down. We were in for a wild concert, but those were our favorites.

 

Chapter 35- Breakfast Bedlam ​

The Chicago concert was perhaps our most successful yet, followed by a wild meet-and-greet party that lasted into the wee hours of the morning. Sara made friends left and right, since she was a true fan at heart, while Andrew sipped beer and tried not to yawn openly. He was used to the farmer's routine of early to bed and early to rise, and didn't even have the benefit of a nap like the rest of us. Luc was still going strong, and Cesare was chattering away with a group of matrons, when Diggs finally gave us the cue to leave. We waved goodnight to our fans and left to thunderous applause, with Andrew and Sara trailing behind us.

"Well, that was fun!" Johann smiled, as I sat next to him in the limo. "I really like Chicago."

"Glad you approve," I grinned back, absently taking his hand in mine. He immediately withdrew it, a look of alarm flooding his eyes, and I remembered that my brother was in the same car as us. Thankfully, he was yawning again, and didn't seem to have noticed. Sara was laughing at something Luc had just said -- something about our insurance not covering ambulance rides.

We all called out our goodnights and headed for our rooms, feeling the exhaustion hit now that the adrenaline from the fans had drained. I stripped and stepped into the shower, yawning to beat my brother. It had been a great crowd, nobody had gotten hurt (something I'd recently added to my checklist), and we had performed exceptionally well. For me, it always came back to the music -- our selections were good, I knew, but in a live performance, the difficulty lay in doing what we were supposed to do as well as we knew we could. Tonight, it had all come together beautifully. Feeling satisfied, I sang the chorus from one of my favorites, "Darling, Je Vous Aime Beaucoup," as I showered.

"...My love for you is trés, trés fort!
Wish my French were good enough --
I'd tell you so much more!"

I was pleasantly surprised when I heard the harmony overlaying it, and Johann stepped into the shower with me.

"But I hope that you compris
All the things you mean to me.
Darling, je vous aime beaucoup --
I love you, yes, I do!"

As we sang the refrain again, I took him into my arms, loath to be separated from him for another moment. He passed his hands behind my neck to pull me down for a long-awaited kiss. He ended it all too soon, but only to say, "I love you, Brian," with his beautiful brown eyes locked on mine. Despite my fatigue, I quickly became ready for another kind of activity.

"Serafim, my angel," I breathed, wondering for a moment if he might not be a devil for the way he made me react. No, I decided, he was too sweet to be anything but an angel. The problem was with me, for thinking such naughty thoughts. However, when I hugged him, I realized that he was having the same problem!

"Serafim," I began, haltingly, but he planted another kiss on my lips. When we finally broke apart, we were both panting and in more dire need than before.

"Brian," he gasped, blushing to a lovely shade, but determined to say it, "can I... watch?"

"Only if... I get to... watch you!" I countered, and we both retreated to the ends of the shower to take care of our urgent business. It was incredibly sexy to watch him touching himself, and I reached my destination much sooner than I normally would have. Serafim didn't take much longer, either, and leaned against the wall, eyes half closed and taking in great gulps of air. I moved over to wash him.

"You look gorgeous like this," I murmured in his ear. He smiled as I rubbed the washcloth over his chest.

"You, too," he answered, opening his eyes and watching me as I washed the rest of him. After he returned the favor, we barely managed to climb into bed before conking out in a death-like sleep.

When Michelle called and woke us up, I regaled her with stories from our concert and our short tour of Chicago, while Serafim went to his own room to change. He came back and rummaged through my clothes, picking out an outfit for me, as I finished up the call and stepped into the bathroom.

"I called for breakfast from my room," he told me. "I think you have enough sweet for now, so I ordered eggs and bacon. Is that okay?"

"Sounds wonderful," I assured him, pausing from shaving.

As I turned off the electric shaver for a moment, I heard something making a hissing noise.

"What's that?" I asked, peering out.

"Oh, nothing," he said, but I saw that he was pressing my dress shirt with a miniature iron.

"Serafim! You don't have to do that!"

"I want to," he insisted, and continued to touch up the collar. "It makes difference when you're on TV -- the camera zooms in close."

"Well, thanks. I guess I don't pay enough attention to those sorts of details..."

"It's okay, I can do it for you," he cheerfully told me. There was a knock at my door. "Wow! That was fast," he commented, and went to answer it, leaving me to finish up.

To my horror, even through the bathroom door, I could hear a familiar voice say, "I thought this was Brian's room?!?"

"Oh, it is!" Serafim answered smoothly, letting my brother and his wife in. "We just have breakfast together -- it is so much nicer than eating alone. Brian! Andrew is here. And Sara."

He brought my clothes to the bathroom door as I peeked out.

"Better wear this before you come out," he smiled.

"Hey, Bri," Andrew called, a bit uncertain what to make of Serafim -- Johann -- being in my room.

"Hey, big bro," I called back, closing the door again. I wasn't sure how to explain it any better than Johann already had, and decided to leave well enough alone. Our alibi was reinforced by the door being knocked again, this time by the bellboy with our breakfast.

"Have you eaten breakfast yet?" I heard Johann asking them.

"Yes, we have, don't worry," Sara told him. "We thought you all might be tired after last night, and waited until after we ate to come say goodbye."

"You're leaving already?!?"

"Yeah, hate to leave the farm up to Dad and the kids for so long. We're heading back now."

Finally decent, I walked out. "What, so soon?!?"

"Yeah," was Andrew's terse answer. He looked me over. "What's the suit for?"

"We have an interview today," I sighed. "TV show. Have you heard of Ellen Degeneres?"

"Of course! Really?!? You're gonna be on her show?!?" Sara cried.

"Yep, they're taping in Chicago this week, so Diggs thought it'd be great publicity. I guess it's on in the afternoon, so the audience is mostly housewives -- and of course, we're a big hit with women."

I winked and Andrew rolled his eyes. I sat down, and Johann and I had no sooner started in on our breakfast than there was another knock on the door.

"I'll get it," Sara offered, jumping up. She beamed at Luc and Cesare, who were surprised to see her.

"Uh, good morning! Is Brian here?" Cesare asked.

"Of course," she said, stepping back to let them in.

"What, still eating?" Luc teased.

"Gimme a break," I shot back. "I was telling Michelle about last night."

"That was a great concert, wasn't it?" Luc grinned, turning to see Andrew's reaction. He was, predictably, shaking his head again.

"Don't see how you guys can do that all the time. I'm exhausted just from watchin'!"

We laughed, and Cesare told him about The Streaker in Nashville, giving Johann and me a chance to eat. When we all left the room to go downstairs, Andrew was still shaking his head over the craziness of show biz.

The concierge greeted us cordially, then turned to me.

"Mr. Douglas, you've received a number of parcels from your fans, and we didn't want to disturb you in case you were still sleeping, so we took the liberty of holding them here."

He motioned to one of the bell-boys, who wheeled out a large luggage rack from the cloak room. The entire thing was loaded with Dunkin' Donuts boxes.

"Judas Priest!" I exclaimed. "Are those all doughnuts?!?"

"And some muffins, sir," the concierge deadpanned. I started counting the boxes.

"Good god," Luc said, in awe. "How many are there?"

"Twenty-eight of the two-dozen boxes, and sixty-one of the one-dozen boxes," the concierge informed us. "That's a total of one hundred seventeen dozen, or fourteen hundred and four doughnuts. We believe it must be something of a record."

I stared at it, open-mouthed.

"But... why?" Sara wondered.

"You know what," Luc said, snapping his fingers. "Some of the fans must have seen us eating there yesterday, and figured that with Brian having lived here, he must like it."

"With the Internet, news can spread like wildfire," Cesare agreed.

"What am I gonna do with all this, though?" I asked, flabbergasted. "We could never eat them all, and we're leaving tomorrow!"

Luc opened one of the boxes and looked inside. "Well, we can at least try to make a dent in it..."

Johann took another one down. "Oh, look, Brian! This one is all chocolate, your favorite!"

"Okay, so we can work on a few boxes," I agreed, and my brain began to recover from the shock. "Say, wasn't there a homeless shelter near here?"

"There are several," the concierge readily replied.

"Well, okay then, everybody take what you want -- Andrew, take a few boxes, since you're going home to the kids -- and can you have the rest delivered to the nearest shelter?" I asked the concierge, pulling out my wallet. He put out a hand to stay mine.

"We would be delighted to deliver them to the Lincoln Park Community Center, in your name," he said, with the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Thanks," I said, heartily meaning it. I shook my head as I regarded the still sizeable mountain of boxes on the rack, and heard Johann laugh.

"You look just like your brother just now!" he explained, grinning. Luc and Cesare laughed, too.

"I guess we really are related," I said to Andrew, who looked somewhat embarrassed.

"You didn't actually believe that cockamamie story we fed you about being adopted, did you?"

"Not much," I told him, laughing at the memory.

"There's our car," Cesare pointed out. "Andrew, Sara, it was wonderful to meet you both!"

"Likewise," Andrew answered, shaking his and the others' hands. Sara got a peck on the cheek from each of us, but she pulled me into a hug.

"For what it's worth," she whispered in my ear, "I like him a lot better than Michelle!"

I looked at her, startled, and she smiled ingenuously. It struck me like a lightning bolt that she knew, but I was sure that our secret was safe with her.

"Hey, Bri," Andrew came up to me, also grabbing me in a bone-crushing hug. "Take care of yourself!"

"You, too," I told him, still a bit shell-shocked from his wife's comment. "Give everyone my love!"

"Will do," he assured me, and I sprinted out to the limo to catch up with the rest of my group.

I waved to Sara from the window, but Andrew had already turned to go to the parking garage, eager to get back to the farm.

 

Chapter 36- Interview with Ellen ​

In all the hustle and bustle of preparing for the TV interview, I didn't have a chance to tell Johann about Sara's comment, but I figured it didn't really matter so much -- I was confident that she wouldn't spill the beans, and it made me feel better to know that at least one person from back home approved of our relationship. I was more concerned with how she knew, but that was something I hoped to discuss with Johann later, since he would probably have better insight as to what tipped her off.

We met Ellen Degeneres backstage, and she was as funny and forthright in person as we'd been warned she would be. Knowing that she had "come out" very publicly made me respect her; that she had survived the experience gave me hope. We did our mic checks and ran through "A Kiss to Build a Dream On," but couldn't help cracking up when Ellen came out with a Charlie Chaplin walking stick and wearing a bowler hat, pretending to tap dance to our song. Luc dashed over and started dancing with her, which was so funny that we decided to go with it for the actual performance.

The studio filled up quickly and to maximum capacity, buzzing with excitement. We laughed backstage at Ellen's intro, then on cue, walked out one by one, taking a line each from our song. Luc went first, to high-pitched screams from the girls.

"Give me a kiss to build a dream on, and my imagination will thrive upon that kiss."

Cesare sauntered out, singing the second line with his eyebrow raised in a sultry salute.

"Sweetheart, I ask no more than this -- a kiss to build a dream on!"

Johann stepped in time with the rhythm, his sweet voice charming everyone.

"Give me a kiss before you leave me, and my imagination will feed my hungry heart."

I joined them on the last line, smiling naturally from the upbeat music.

"Leave me one thing before we part -- a kiss to build a dream on!"

We sang together from the chorus, and at the key change, Luc walked off the platform and took Ellen's hand, singing as they danced their spur-of-the-moment jig. The crowd started clapping even before we were done, which we always took as a sign that we had done well.

"Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Quartetto!" Ellen cried, clapping her own hands enthusiastically. During what would be the commercial break, we sat down in the interview area.

"We're back with Quartetto, the popera sensation that's taken the world by storm," she started up again, "and as most of you know, the members are Cesare Ricci from Italy, Luc Laurent (did I pronounce that right?) from France, Johann Leitner from Austria, and of course, Chicago's home-town hero, Brian Douglas!!"

At each name the audience cheered, and we took the opportunity to wave or blow kisses. She started out the interview with the usual questions -- how long have we been together, how has the tour been (Luc mentioned The Streaker), what were the most bizarre song requests we'd had, etc. We also talked about the tidal wave of doughnuts we'd received that morning, with an appeal to the fans to not send us any more food, or to donate it in our name to a homeless shelter.

"It's funny that you mention doughnuts," she said, bringing out a box from behind her desk, "because a little birdie told me these were Brian's favorites, so I had to get him some, too."

We laughed and each took a doughnut from the box as we went to the second commercial break. It wasn't until the next segment that she dropped the bombshell on us.

"Now, we just had a photo sent in to us today, by someone who knew you were going to be on our show," she began, as a giant TV screen appeared on the set behind us. "We thought at first it was something made up on Photoshop, but I think it really does look like the two of you. Tell me what you think..."

We all turned to look at the screen, and my jaw dropped, and my heart fell through the floor. It was a picture of Johann and me, where he was sitting with his head bowed, in a garden between some giant topiaries, and I was on one knee in front of him, holding his hand. I swallowed, and looked at Johann. He had paled, and was biting his lower lip.

"Brian, Johann, doesn't that look like you? I mean, if someone took the time to make this, they sure did a good job!"

I wanted to say something -- something light and carefree, like yeah, they did a great job, but all that came out was a violent, "Judas Priest!!!" Then my mouth went dry, and I just sat there staring at the photo. To my surprise and relief, Johann answered her in a steady voice.

"Actually, Ellen, that is us. We're at the Getty Museum in Los Angeles, about two weeks ago," he explained. It was almost funny to see her get flustered, but the audience was reeling from the shock.

"It is?!? I mean, this really... you look... well, you have to admit..." she stuttered, then suddenly burst out with, "It sure looks like Brian's proposing to you!"

"Is there something you haven't told us, guys?" Luc interrupted, laughing as though the whole thing were a joke. I appreciated what he was trying to do, but still couldn't form a coherent answer.

"Can I explain about this?" Johann asked Ellen, with a gentle smile that no woman (not even a lesbian) could resist.

"This was a holiday, a day we got to spend together. We're together most of the time, yes, but always working -- rehearsing, performing, doing interviews -- so it's not often we have time to talk. This day was first time we actually talked about our family, and Brian told me about his brothers, and his mother dying when he was young boy, which was why he started in singing."

He took a deep breath before continuing.

"You see, my mother died when I was boy, too, so we have this in common. I didn't know that until this day, and... well, it is very difficult for me..."

There was a hitch in his voice as he tried to control his emotions, and the audience responded with a quiet but immediate "Awww." I knew there wouldn't be a dry eye in the building if he kept this up.

"When my mother die, I went to live with my uncle in different town -- new school, new friends, new everything, so it was very hard. When... when I tell Brian, I... I start to cry, so he gave me his shoulder to cry on, literally."

Even Ellen went "Awww," and Johann turned to smile at me.

"You see, Brian always take care of everybody. When Luc was hurt, he was right there to help him, too! He is just all-around nice guy. We are very lucky he is part of the group."

"Awww, that's so sweet!" Ellen said, seeming to be sincerely impressed. "I mean, it's obvious you guys are close friends now, and have a great rapport, and that can only help your music, right?"

We all nodded in assent, and Cesare put in, "Of course! And the funny thing is, even though we come from different backgrounds and different styles of music, that is not something that divides us, but makes us stronger. I think Leo -- our producer, Leonard Moretti -- had a great vision of what we could accomplish, if we only trusted each other and played to everyone's strengths."

As the audience applauded, I was gradually able to breathe easier, and hoped my face would regain its normal color soon. Ellen, however, had one last jibe left.

"But now Johann, since you obviously respect and like Brian so much," she said, her expression belying nothing, "if he had proposed to you that day, would you have accepted?"

"That day?" Johann repeated, as if that mattered.

"Yeah, if he proposed to you at the moment when this picture was taken."

"No!" he answered, very firmly. "He didn't give me ring, he never buy me flowers, nothing -- what sort of guy do you think I am?!?"

He said this with such a straight face that for a second I was confused. Then the audience erupted into laughter.

"Hey, he has a ring now!" Luc joked, and passed me the box of doughnuts. "A whole box of rings!"

"Yes, you can take your pick," Cesare added, opening the lid for him. "Which one do you want?"

"The pretty one, with sprinkles," Johann pointed out without hesitation. I finally found my voice.

"Wouldn't you know it, he wants the one with the biggest bling," I groaned.

"Sprinkles are a man's best friend," he quipped, pulling it out and trying it on on his left hand. He got three of his fingers through the hole, and held up his hand for the camera, as Ellen bent over with laughter. Mercifully, our time was up, and we left the stage waving at a crowd that was still chortling.

Backstage, of course, was a different matter. Leo almost literally pounced on us.

"What the hell were you guys thinking?!?" he demanded, his veins pulsing.

"We weren't," I admitted right away, thinking to get the worst over with quickly.

"But it was true, what I said," Johann explained. "It wasn't proposal or anything! He just let me cry, and it just happen to look like that. We weren't thinking to hide, because we weren't doing something we have to hide."

"Besides," Diggs interjected, "our sales haven't suffered at all from the rumors of the guys being gay -- in fact, it's actually been going up! Who knows? Maybe this photo will start more rumors, and increase their sales even more!"

Leo growled, unconvinced, but his eyes rested on Johann, who still looked a bit somber.

"All right, you did okay for damage control, but no more public displays of affection! Is that clear?!?"

"Crystal," I answered, and Johann nodded. Not able to stand seeing him so dejected, though, I pulled him in for a hug.

"You fairies are gonna be the death of me," Leo muttered. I saw Diggs looking at him pointedly, and he suddenly snapped his mouth shut. Luc and Cesare hadn't missed their exchange, either, and shot each other a look. Wondering again what was going on between our producer and manager, we started washing up and getting ready to leave.

Diggs had suggested earlier that we go to Uno's for dinner, but I told him that although their pizza was the best in town, Lou Malnati's was brighter and slightly more spacious. We called in our order from the limo and the table was ready for us when we arrived. I made sure we got their salad (which Michelle absolutely loves), their appetizer platter, and both a deep dish and a thin crust pizza. We topped it off with their specialty dessert, a chocolate chip cookie baked in a deep dish and served with ice cream and whipped cream. It was heavenly!

"I wouldn't mind living in Chicago," Luc declared, and we all had to agree.

 

Chapter 36- Songs and Roses ​

I told Johann about Sara's comment that night, when we were settled into bed. I stroked back his still-damp hair as he pondered how she might have found out.

"Well, she knows you for long time, right? She might have noticed... how you look at me, how you smile... little things like that. I don't know if she saw... we were holding hands, in the car, or... maybe she see you buy my memento?"

"That's possible," I agreed.

"And maybe it's woman's tuition," he added. I laughed and kissed his nose before correcting him.

"Intuition, you mean."

"Intuition, of course," he sighed, looking chagrined, but coming closer to get another kiss. For me, his lips were sweeter than even the chocolate chip cookie we'd had for dessert.

We were on the move the next morning, and I was thankful that we weren't inundated by doughnuts again. It was my first time going to Detroit, and although I'd always thought of the Motor City as seedy and run-down, our concert was in a nice suburb, so other than the usual multi-lane highways of a big city, it had an almost rural feel to it. We didn't have much time to relax, though, as the very next day was the concert, and the day after that we moved to New York. On the plane, I couldn't quite make myself believe that I was coming back to the city where I'd lived with Michelle for the past five years. Even when we landed and I saw the familiar skyline above me, it felt surreal.

Diggs splurged and let us stay in a five-star hotel, which he said was only possible by our doubling up in the rooms -- not that that was a sacrifice! Since Luc had put us together at Vegas, Johann and I hadn't slept apart for a single night. We'd kept our relationship strictly hands-off, though, and having realized that "probing" was synonymous with "touching," Johann didn't initiate any more... invasive methods of play. For now, we were satisfied with just watching each other -- which I suspected was more rewarding for me, since Johann could put on quite a titillating show. And in bed, we always nestled against each other, either spooning or cuddling, simply enjoying the sensation of being close to each other. It was sensual without being sexual, and I realized for the first time in my life that a chaste, loving embrace could be just as satisfying as passionate love-making. I also realized that Michelle had never been a cuddler, and wondered if I'd become disenchanted with her due to this, at least in part. Call me a late bloomer, but I was finding out, thanks to Johann, exactly how into snuggling I was!

Over the past couple of weeks, we'd also settled into a workout routine, spending time almost every day in the gym together, where Luc would join us occassionally to stretch his ankle. His wrist hadn't healed enough to remove the cast completely, but he hoped to start physical therapy once the tour was over. Johann was beginning to have more prominent bicepts and thigh muscles, but I didn't want him to bulk up too much and lose his sleek bodyline, so I reduced his strength training regimen and increased his cardio exercise instead. He kept me company as I went about my own set of excercises, and when we were in the posh gym in the New York hotel, I suddenly wondered how I would manage without him for however long we would be apart. I had grown so used to his presence, almost every moment of every day, that the thought of not having him around was unnerving.

I tried not to dwell on it too much. I focused on each task that I had to do, one at a time, just to pass the time. Although I hated to admit it, I was dreading the day after the concert -- Saturday, or "D-Day," when I would go home to Michelle and confess what had happened. And really, that was the only way I could explain it -- that it had just "happened." I honestly hadn't been looking for someone else, let alone another guy! And as Johann had pointed out, the truth was always the best thing to say.

It had worked out well, as it turned out, that he had told the truth on Ellen's show about that photograph. Diggs commented, as we took a break in our preparations before the final concert, that it would have been useless to deny that we had been there, or to claim that our images had been tampered with, since there had been too many other eyewitnesses.

"And it was just as well that you established, for the record, why you two are close -- if you're going to be hanging out all the time, we might as well have a decent explanation for it. Not to mention," he added, with a wink, "Johann played the 'Awww, Poor Baby' Card to perfection!"

Johann blushed, but I couldn't help laughing, "Nobody can resist those puppy-dog eyes of yours!" and pulled him in for a kiss.

"Those puppy-dog eyes must have worked their magic," Luc put in, sounding rather disgruntled, "since now there's more stories about you two than Brian and me!"

We crowded around him to look over his shoulder at his laptop screen, and sure enough, there were now over four thousand stories about Johann and me.

"Maybe we should get our picture taken together," Cesare said to Luc. "I can get down on my knees and give you a doughnut!"

"I prefer you just down on your knees, begging!" Luc replied tartly.

"No more photos!" Leo groaned. "Even if they do increase sales -- I can't handle the stress!"

We knew Leo had every reason to be stressed, since the concert in Madison Square Garden was going to be our biggest crowd yet. We had opted for the center stage, which allowed over twenty thousand seats, but also meant that our audience would completely surround us, like theater in the round, so we had to move around to ensure that everyone got a chance to see each of us as "up close" as possible. For those unfortunate ones sitting towards the back, there were four viewscreens hanging from the ceiling to show what the professional cameras picked up, blown up larger than life.

As for our song selection, we were doing all of the songs from our first CD, and throwing in a few from the new one, too. We had to start out with Frankie's "New York, New York" to kick off the concert with a bang. It was followed by upbeat swing dance songs in the first set: "A Kiss to Build a Dream On," "Night and Day," "The Way You Look Tonight" in Italian and English, and "Too Marvelous for Words."

Luc had the great idea to include both of the duets, which would allow us to do our quick change in pairs, wasting the minimum amount of time. He and Cesare would sing their proper version of "I've Got You Under My Skin," then we would switch and Johann and I would sing "All the Way."

The second set was more romantic, with slower melodies better suited to cheek dancing: "Darling, Je Vous Aime Beaucoup," "Moonlight Serenade," "Polkadots and Moonbeams," "Embraceable You," and the ever-popular "Can't Help Falling in Love" of Elvis Presley fame. After a short interlude by the orchestra, in which we would change again, there was another set of slower songs: "It's Impossible" in Italian, "All My Tomorrows," "Besame Mucho [Kiss Me Much]," and "Over the Rainbow."

That was the official end of the concert programme, but of course we had to have encores ready, and we chose two more Frankie favorites that we'd practiced for the new CD, "Fly Me to the Moon," and "Come Fly With Me," which would end on a high note.

"That's a lot of songs," Cesare sighed, looking over the list. "Eighteen songs! Four more than usual."

"Okay, so which would you take out?" Diggs asked, frowning.

After much debate, we decided to take out "Besame Mucho," even though it was Cesare's favorite song, since it "sounds sad" as Johann put it. We also thought "Embraceable You" wouldn't be missed as much as some of the others, and felt that we had pared down the concert to a manageable length.

"This is good -- we've taken both songs out of the slower sets, so we'll keep each set relatively short," Leo agreed, looking satisfied at last. "All right, take a breather, and be ready to make this concert the best of the tour!"

We were grateful for the chance to sink into the couches in the ready room, sprawling in the most comfortable positions, since we were still in our everyday clothes and didn't care if they got wrinkled. I pulled Johann down on top of me to half-lean, half-lie on my chest. Only Diggs or Leo would come into the ready room, so even Luc was resting his head on Cesare's lap. I overheard them murmuring sweet nothings (albeit with their unique brand of bite) to each other, and remembered something I had wanted to tell Johann.

"You know," I began, holding him up by the shoulders so I could look into his lovely eyes, "when we're singing our duet, I'm singing it for you."

"I know," he answered, quietly and seriously, "because I sing it for you, too."

"And when we sing 'All My Tomorrows,' I'm thinking of you, my angel."

He leaned in to kiss my cheek.

"When I leave you, to go back to Salzburg, you have to give me 'A Kiss to Build a Dream On,' okay?"

"Of course," I promised, and pleaded, "Besame mucho!" to which he gladly complied.

We all looked up when the door opened, but it was only Diggs.

"I have a special delivery for you, Johann," he announced, carrying in a large vase with two dozen red roses. "Thoughtful of them to have it delivered so early, before the rush!"

"Oh! How beautiful!" he gasped, carefully accepting it from him and reading the card.

"Red roses! That's romantic," Cesare commented, curiously. "Who is it from? Some old biddy who could be your grandmother?"

Johann didn't answer, but flushed a bright red, set the vase down on a table, and flung himself at me.

"What?!?" Luc cried, sitting bolt upright. "They're from you?!?"

"Don't sound so surprised," I told him haughtily, glaring at him around Johann's head. "I do know how to use a phone!"

"Well, well, well," Cesare said, plucking out the card with a smile. He read it aloud. "'To Johann, my lovely angel -- from your "biggest" fan, BJD.' I'm impressed that you knew who it was so quickly, Johann!"

I knew Johann wouldn't be able to answer soon, because I felt him sobbing into my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, mon ange, I should have done this much sooner," I apologized as I rubbed his back. "I'm such a clod, I didn't realize that I'd never sent you flowers until you mentioned it, on Ellen's show..."

"Ah!" Cesare nodded, comprehending. "So now, if you propose to him, he has no excuse to not accept!"

I grinned. "Exactly!"

Johann finally pulled himself together, and looked up into my face to whisper, "Yes! Yes! A thousand times, YES!"

 

Chapter 39- The New York Concert ​

he applause after our opening number, "New York, New York" was predictably loud, as New Yorkers shouted and clapped their appreciation for our tribute to the Big Apple. The audience was on its feet already, and stayed there for "A Kiss to Build a Dream On," swaying to the music. If there weren't rows of seats bolted down to the floor, the whole arena might have turned into a dance floor. Luc commented afterwards that he missed having someone to dance with, and several thousand screaming girls offered to take Ellen's enviable place. We slipped easily into "Night and Day," then Cesare dedicated "The Way You Look Tonight" and "Too Marvelous for Words" to all the women in the crowd, eliciting cheers when he cocked his eyebrow and smiled at them.

I caught a glimpse of Johann's face as we passed each other on the stage, walking towards opposite ends in our shuffle, and he was glowing with pleasure. It was infectious, and I could feel all of my nervousness melt away. This was, after all, our last concert for a long while, so I wanted to enjoy it. I smiled and waved to the audience on the new side of the stage, and their smiles and enthusiastic waves reminded me that I was one of the luckiest guys on the planet -- I got to do what I loved most for a living! And as Johann and I slipped off-stage for our first costume change, my heart warmed to realize that I got to work with the person that I loved most, too.

I lost myself in the moment as we went back out, welcomed by screams and high-pitched shrieks, to sing our duet.

When somebody loves you, it's no good unless he loves you... all the way;
Happy to be near you, when you need someone to cheer you... all the way.
Taller than the tallest tree is -- that's how it should feel.
Deeper than the deep blue sea is -- that's how deep it goes if it's real.

As I reflected on the words, I made them mine, perhaps for the first time truly. I looked over at Johann and as if on cue, he looked up at me at the same moment. He smiled in wordless acknowledgment, and walked towards the center of the stage. I mirrored his movements, meeting him in the middle, where we stood with our elbows gently touching as we looked out at the hushed crowd and sang our hearts out.

When somebody needs you, it's no good unless he needs you... all the way;
Through the good and lean years, and for all the in-between years... come what may.
Who knows where the road will lead us -- only fools would say.
But if you'll let me love you, it's for sure I'm gonna love you... all the way... all the way.

I thought of the task ahead of me tomorrow, but I was no longer worried, because regardless of how hard things became, I knew I could count on Johann -- my Seraphim, my angel -- to be there for me. And even though life could throw us curveballs, I now had a rock, an unchanging constant in my life, that was all wrapped up in the one person that stood next to me. Our voices interwove the sweet melody as a pledge, harmonizing at first before blending in perfect unity on the final words. Long after the orchestra had ended, and even when Luc and Cesare had come back on stage, the audience continued clapping and cheering for us. It was gratifying to know that our song had touched them so, and after several bows, I took Johann's hand and raised it up like we did at the end of our concerts for our final bow.

When the crowd finally settled back down, we invited them to sit with us (as we sat on stools, to save our strength) for the next set. The slow, romantic songs could almost put you to sleep, and even Cesare, who was known for his strong voice, toned it down to a gentle mezzo piano that cast a sweet spell over all the listeners. We got up and walked around the stage again to sing "I can't help falling in love with you," going to each side of the stage to wave and blow kisses to our fans, before trailing out for our second costume change.

The orchestra played a medley of our last few songs for the interlude, and as we changed into the flashy shirts Johann had bought us in LA, Diggs gave us the news that we'd just topped the classical charts in the USA, too! I proudly made the announcement when we got back on stage, and encouraged the crowd to make as much noise as they wanted -- which was a lot! There were even some people stomping, it sounded like, and we all bowed, thanking them for supporting us through "our journey," as Luc put it.

We sang the next song, "It's Impossible," in both Italian and English, Cesare and Johann in Italian, and Luc and I in English. During the next song, "All My Tomorrows," I caught Johann's eye again, deliberately, and smiled. He smiled back, blushing slightly. I felt like my heart would burst with happiness. Then on our last song, "Over the Rainbow," Johann's voice soared, and I knew he was singing it for me -- not wistfully, but with the assurance that we would, very soon, be able to cross over the rainbow into a place where "troubles melt like lemon drops." I almost didn't hear the applause, I was so lost in my own bliss.

We took a quick break for water, during which time the crowd kept clapping and clamoring "Encore!" Then we went back out to the stage and sang two more Frankie favorites that we promised would be on our next CD: "Fly Me to the Moon" and "Come Fly with Me." All four of us must have felt like we could fly away in that moment, if we only tried. The audience held nothing back to let us know how much they loved our performance, and it was with deep satisfaction, and just a twinge of regret that it couldn't last longer, that we waved our final goodbyes and walked off the stage.

Our after-show party was bigger and more opulent than anything else I'd ever experienced. The entire orchestra as well as the stage crew were invited, and there were a number of celebrities who had also turned out for our concert. Media people flashed away at us and the more famous of our guests, and the fans that had managed to get passes were treated to a glamorous evening with the ritziest of stars.

After posing for the obligatory photo with Leo, Johann brought over a tray filled with goblets of cognac, giving me a private smile, and Leo made a toast to our first tour, which had exceeded all of our expectations. Making number one on the American chart was simply icing on the cake! For Cesare and me, especially, having struggled for years to get decent parts in what few opera shows were available, it was a Cinderella experience -- we had gone from being practically unknown and barely making ends meet, to international sensations with hefty royalties rolling in from our CD sales.

"I can't even wrap my mind around it," I said to Cesare over our drinks. "I keep thinking it's all a dream."

"If it is, I don't ever want to wake up!" he answered, and Luc joined him with a, "Hear, hear!"

The party still seemed to be in full swing when, at almost 2AM, Diggs started rounding us up.

"Are you ready to call it a night?" he asked, not wanting to cut our time short.

"Yeah, I'm ready!" I answered, rubbing my eyes. I was almost asleep on my feet.

"Johann's already in the limo, and Cesare's in the john. I'll go get Luc, then," he said and trotted off.

I waved goodbye quickly and ran out to the car, realizing that this would be my last night with Johann for a while. He smiled as I got in and sat next to him, cradling his shoulders to pull him against me.

"What a night," I sighed, and he put a hand on my knee.

"Yes. A perfect night!" he smiled, turning his head to look up at me. "Thank you for the flowers! I ask Diggs to take them to our room already."

We were still kissing when Leo got in, but he only sighed as though finally resigned to fate.

Our last night in the hotel went by all too quickly. We showered together, too tired to even think of doing anything else, and collapsed into bed. Johann didn't bother to put on his pajama top, so I peeled off my old t-shirt and we lay with our skin in direct contact, chest against chest. We were asleep in an instant, but all through the night I would half-awake and pull him closer to me, and marvel at the joy of being with him.

We were awakened early by the alarm, since Johann needed to be at the airport one hour before his flight to London, where he would stay overnight at Luc's. From there he would take another flight to Salzburg. Cesare was flying directly home to Milan on another flight, later in the day, but he was going to the airport with them to be with Luc for as long as possible. I was tempted to go, too, and keep Johann company until he had to go through the security gates, but knew that would only be stalling. I needed to go home and take care of business, however unpleasant it might turn out to be.

We had breakfast together and packed, feeling still worn out from the night before, and blue about our impending separation. We stopped often to kiss and reassure each other that everything would be all right. I was concerned for Johann, since he would be facing the man that had taken such heinous advantage of him for so long, but he seemed more worried for me. I promised him I wouldn't change my mind, no matter what Michelle said or how hard she tried to guilt-trip me, and he promised in turn to have his apartment -- our apartment -- ready for me to move in. We kissed one last time in our room before we had to leave. I walked him out to the limo, where Luc and Cesare were waiting to each give me a parting hug and a congratulatory handshake. Then I waved as the car pulled away, for the first time without me, and hailed a cab to take me home.

"I'm home!" I announced, walking through the door of the apartment and dragging my luggage in. It had taken a minute to find my keys, buried deep in my bag after seven weeks on the tour.

"Brian?!? You're home early!!!" Michelle cried out, excitedly making her way to the living room.

"Yeah. How've you been?" I asked automatically.

"I'm doing just great!" she beamed. "Surprise!!!"

I looked at her, and felt the blood drain out of my brain. She was wearing a form-fitting dress, and her stomach was protruding. With a sinking feeling, I realized that my wife was pregnant.

 

Chapter 40- D Day Bombshell ​

"Judas Priest!" burst out of my mouth before I could stop it. Michelle had always been skinny, so the bulge on her stomach was unmistakable. "You're... pregnant?!?"

"Three months along! You're gonna be a daddy, Brian!" she gushed. I blinked, not knowing what to think.

"But... you... you never said... you never wanted kids!" I stuttered.

"Well, a girl's got a right to change her mind, doesn't she? Besides... it was sort of a... accident," she confessed. "Remember the week before you left, I thought I had the flu? Well, it turned out to be morning sickness. I got it bad after you left, and went to the doctor -- that's when I found out!"

I continued to stare at her middle, and finally the truth began to sink in. I had to sit down. I aimed for the couch nearby and missed, ending up on the floor with my knees at my ears.

"Brian, you silly! I wanted this to be a surprise, but you don't have to fall to pieces on me!" she giggled, sitting down on the couch and patting my shoulder. "Isn't this exciting? I'm changing the spare bedroom into a nursery, but I wanted to wait before we painted it -- I'm scheduled for an ultrasound next week, so hopefully we'll find out if it's a boy or a girl. Then we can paint it blue or pink!"

I still couldn't think clearly, and kept coming back to the one point that I couldn't get over.

"But... Michelle... you used to say, all those years, how you pitied women who were tied down by their kids! You never even hinted that you wanted a baby!"

"I know, but... well, it's not like we have to worry about money, now that you're a big star, and my career's going nowhere... so I figure, why not? It'll be fun to have a kid -- it's not like I want a whole bunch of them, you know! Plus the baby can keep me company when you're gone for work. If your group takes off like I think it's gonna, you might be gone even more, so..."

She trailed off when I put my head in my hands. Actually, it just sank from the weight of this revelation, and I happened to catch it on the way down.

"Brian, I know this must be a shock to you, but I thought you'd be happy!" she accused, her tone sharp.

"Michelle..." I started, not sure where or how to begin. "What do you want me to say? Congratulations?"

"What's wrong? Aren't you glad to be a father?!? All your brothers are, and you're always great playing with their kids!"

Michelle continued to speak, but I wasn't listening. My mind was totally blank, except for Johann's face. What should I do? Should I leave him to stay with my wife and unborn child? Could I even survive without my angel? And what would he do without me -- go back to the man that had bought him?!? That was untenable! But the alternative was to leave my wife and my baby, when they probably needed me most, to follow my selfish heart to be with the love of my life. Which should I choose: love or duty?

"Brian! Say something!!!"

As my wife's words cut into my thoughts, I realized something -- I had to be selfish, or live a lie. And what sort of life would I be offering, as a husband and father, if I only thought of my wife and child as a duty -- a burden to be borne?

"Brian?!?" Michelle called again, getting angry. I knew I had to tell her the truth. Johann's voice echoed softly in my mind, telling me that the truth would set me free. Honesty is the best policy. And besides, she knew something was up already, from the way I had reacted. No sense hiding, now.

"Michelle, I'm sorry to say this, but... well, I hadn't expected this at all, you know, and... as harsh as this sounds, I'm sorry, but it couldn't have come at a worse time..."

"What?!? What's going on?!? What's wrong with having a baby now? This is the perfect time -- the best time in our lives yet! Your job's going great, we're still young, and... and..."

I was trying to think of the best way to word it, and Michelle's rambling gave me the time.

"Michelle, I'm so sorry, this is totally unfair to you, but... I met someone. I'm in love with them."

She gaped at me for a whole minute, as I tried to look her in the eye, to let her see that I was telling the truth. She started to say something several times before she finally managed to get it out.

"You--You're kidding!"

"No, I'm not."

"Who is it -- some floozy fan that threw her panties at you?!? Is that it?? Some slut who wanted to sleep with you, just because you're a big star now?!?"

"It's not like that," I explained, trying to calm her down. "And I... it's not like I went looking for someone, okay? It just... happened. I... I've known this person for a while, and... well, one day, I just realized, how... how attracted I was to them, and then... then I found out, that... this person, was just as attracted to me, which is so amazing, and... and I couldn't help it! I love him!"

The masculine pronoun slipped out, but Michelle didn't seem to notice it.

"NO! It can't be, it's just... it must be stress!" she blurted, making no sense to me. "You're just under a lot of stress, and you just think you're in love with her! Oh, Brian, I was worried something like this was gonna happen; there's too many whores out there who'll try to take advantage of you, and you're too nice, you'd get taken in by any of them! You just need to settle down with me, stay home for a while, and you'll see -- you'll forget all about that floozy in no time! I promise!"

She was trying to smooth my hair back in what she thought was a calming gesture, but as frantic as she was, it only served to distract me. I grabbed her wrists to stop the motion, realizing that I needed to make myself clear.

"No, Michelle. It's not just some passing fancy. I know this is hard for you to understand, but I... I thought I was in love with you, all right? I really did, or I wouldn't have asked you to marry me! And it's not like I was unhappy or anything, it's just... I found out what true love is really like, for the first time in my life! And that made me realize... I'm sorry, this is going to sound cruel, but it's true... I was never in love with you. Not the way I should have been. And it's my own stupid fault for not knowing that! This is all my fault -- I never should have married you, and gotten you into this mess. I just didn't know... I was too young to know, and didn't even realize that I didn't know the first thing about love! Michelle, I'm so sorry, you've been wonderful to me, and I know I couldn't have gotten this far without you, and--"

She interrupted me with a cry that was half sob, half scream.

"What do you mean?!? What're you saying?!? You--You want to... leave me? Now?!? After all these years?"

"I'm sorry," I said, bowing my head. I couldn't stand to look at her face anymore, with the anguish written so plainly there. "I know I'm being selfish, but... I can't live a lie. I can't be with you anymore -- not when I've met the love of my life! And I wouldn't be the husband you deserve, if all I could think about was someone else. You deserve someone better, someone who will love you with all their heart! I want you to find that someone--"

"You're leaving me?!? Now that I'm pregnant?!? What am I supposed to do with the baby?!? You're leaving me and your kid, just to go off with some woman, and what the hell am I supposed to do?!? How the hell am I supposed to take care of a baby, all by myself?!?"

"Don't worry about that! I'll take care of the finances, I promise!" I hurried to tell her. "I've got enough money coming in now, so I'll set up a separate account for you, and you won't have to work or worry about a thing, all right? I'll make sure of that! I want what's best for the baby, too, so I'll be sure you have enough to live on, and comfortably! You don't have to worry about that."

Michelle bit her lip as she grimaced.

"So. You'd already decided you were gonna leave. And you didn't bother to tell me until now!"

"Well, you didn't tell me you were pregnant until now!" I retorted, suddenly feeling angry. "And if you'd told me right away, I would never have gotten involved with... with my angel..."

"Your angel?!? Ha! More like the devil! A regular home-wrecker!" she spat out. "Just who is this woman you've been cheating on me with? Some anorexic supermodel?!?"

I was beginning to lose my patience, and had to will myself to speak quietly.

"First of all, I haven't cheated on you. I haven't had sex with this person. Yet."

A vision of Johann, waiting for me in Salzburg, in his blue pajamas, came to mind. Michelle ripped through the vision with a cynical snort.

"Likely story! Do I look like I was born yesterday?!?"

"It's true! Ask any of the guys I work with. They all thought I was crazy, but I... I didn't want to do that, not behind your back. I wanted to clear this up with you before we... went all the way..."

I remembered the lyrics to our song, our duet, and swallowed hard.

"Look, I know it's terribly unfair to you, but I couldn't help falling in love with the person I'm meant to be with! But no matter how much we both wanted to, we didn't have sex! I--I owed you that much!"

She was glaring at me with a bitter smile.

"So, you didn't have sex, but she still managed to convince you to leave me? She must have done one hell of a mind job on you!"

I was getting tired of her accusations, and of tip-toeing around the real issue.

"It's not a woman."

That, at least, shut her up completely. Which gave me time to explain.

"And the fact that I didn't realize... I was gay, or bi, until now, was the biggest problem."

I sighed, taking a deep breath before going on. She was still gaping at me.

"So it's not you, it's me. I know that phrase is overused, but in this case, it really is true! I'm attracted to men. Well, to this one, anyway. I love him with all my heart, and he didn't have to persuade me of that!"

"God! Brian, I--I know you! You've never even looked at a guy like that!"

I sighed again.

"I know. It caught me by surprise, too... but you know, you never said you wanted a baby, either."