Chapter 11

May 23rd, 2004

The special project on English Renaissance painters was proving to be a difficult one, but Guntram and his team mate, Anne, were doing their best to gather the information and organise the paper due in two week’s time.

After working for several hours, they could distribute the tasks and texts and decided to go for a coffee to the University's cafeteria.

In the middle of his attack on a nut muffin, Guntram heard a very familiar voice yelling from the other side of the bar “Guti!” at the top of their lungs. “It can't be you!” He lifted his gaze from the textbook he was distractedly looking and saw one of his former classmates from Argentina briskly walking toward him.

“Juan!” Guntram also shouted, not believing his eyes and giving him a big embrace and almost bending under the brutal pats from his friend.

“What are you doing in London? I thought you were in Argentina!”

“I live here since 2002,” Guntram said. “What are you doing here? Were you not in Architecture?”

“I came to use the library; a paper for historical architecture, something about William Morris.”

“We also have troubles of our own. Anne, may I introduce you an old friend of mine? Juan Dollenberg.”

“Hello, Juan,” She greeted him briefly. “Nice to meet you. Guntram, I'll see you tomorrow.”

“All right, thank you for your help,” Guntram answered, wondering why she had disappeared so fast.

“All of them run when they see a nice German Gaucho,” Juan sighed. “Were you not in Economics? I never heard anything more about you since we finished school.”

“I did part of the introductory course and then changed to Art History. Here at UCL. I'm on the second year.”

“That's surprising, but logical. You were always drawing and doing our homework for papers and pencils,” Juan chuckled. “None of the boys has any fresh news about you, since a year or so.”

“We stopped writing. I'm not living in Argentina any longer and when you're abroad the best is to sever all ties with the past. I suffered a lot from homesickness and decided to focus on my studies and painting. Do you know I'm going to have an exhibition this June?”

“No, no idea. That's great. Where?”

“It's a gallery in Mayfair, Robertson's.” Guntram sat down and Juan did the same, leaving his laptop's bag on the floor. “I still speak with Father Patricio and my old neighbour, but no one else. I fought with Federico when I came here, in 2002, because he didn't like my choice of lifestyle. We spoke again last December, but he stood me up in Paris. Since then, I decided to concentrate in what I have here. No one from the school would really understand me and I don't want to fight with them.”

“Why? That you paint is what we all expected you would do. Heck! I remember now that someone wanted to buy one of your paintings. My sister-in-law sold several watercolours to a Russian! He was convinced you had a lot of talent.”

“I live with the Russian,” Guntram articulated the words very softly and slowly, not looking at his friend in the eyes. He took a sip of his cold coffee to shake off the nervousness.

“You share a flat?”

“Not really, he has a house. I live with him. He's my boyfriend.”

“Wow,” Juan said in total shock. “I mean, it's not what I expected to hear. Wow!”

“This is why I fought with Fefo. He never understood it and we had troubles in Paris. I still don't understand what happened there.”

“YOU DONT KNOW?” Juan shouted and looked at Guntram petrified how he was rowing the coffee in the plastic cup.

“I was there, but I had nothing to do with it. One day before Christmas he called me here and asked me to visit him in Paris. I went there and he left me for two French girls. The next day the police came and almost accused me of drug trafficking because Fefo had told them I had supplied him some drugs. My lawyer advised me against speaking with him.”

“Federico died in March, Guntram,” Juan said very solemnly. “In a French prison. He was awaiting trial.”

“No, what he had was only for consumption! Nothing big. That's was the police told me! This is not possible!” Guntram said, feeling an oppression in his chest. He fought to keep his calm but it was useless. He covered his eyes, squeezing them to prevent the tears from falling down.

“I thought you knew. I don't know the details, but it was a fight between many interns and he got stabbed. His family took him back to Argentina. The whole class but us went to his memorial service. We were shocked that you were not there. You were always risking your neck for him.”

Guntram took his handkerchief from his pocked and rubbed his eyes to stop the tears.

“Do you want a coffee? Shit! I'm an idiot!” Juan cursed himself, taking his friend's hand in a futile effort to provide some comfort. “I swear I thought you knew. Nobody wrote you?”

“No one at all,” Guntram whispered. “I don't understand why this happened. He told me he was working for a senator; that he wanted to stop getting into messes and start to be decent. He had no need to sell drugs. He had a lot of money.”

“Guntram, he was providing them back in school. I'm not surprised this happened. This is why my brother Pablo didn't let me speak with him. It's a miracle you didn't get in the middle. His group of friends was always into this shit. Coco told me once that he and Mariano were nightclubbing with them and they were surrounded by older men and into heavy stuff.” Juan said at the same time he sniffed and touched his nose, raising his right eyebrow.

“Fefo was never into this! I know him!”

“Guti, you never realised it because you were living in a world of your own. We all knew about it.”

“I can't believe it. Is it true? Is it not a joke?”

“Yes, it's real. On March twelfth but I'm not sure about the date. I didn't go as I have a job here and couldn't miss it. We sold our properties in Argentina and moved here. My brother works in an insurance company and you should meet my nephew, Juan Ignacio. He's two years old and a very nice little fellow. He's always into some mischief!” Juan decided to switch the topic. “I have pictures of him.”

“I'm glad for you,” Guntram said automatically, unable to believe that Fefo was dead. He remained sitting there while his friend talked about his life in London. He felt worse and worse and had to ask Juan to be excused because he needed to be alone.

Guntram left the building walking like a zombie to be nearly run over by a car, too stunned to know where he was going. Two streets away from the university, a large BMW stopped next to him and Yuri ordered him to get inside the car. The boy looked at him as he didn't know the man and stood motionless, not hearing the other cars blaring their horns at the BMW.

“Get in! Now!” Yuri roared once more and Guntram seemed to return to his senses. He opened the passenger's door and sat, hugging his backpack, deathly pale and panting. “What the fuck did you take, boy?”

“Nothing. Fefo is dead since two months and I didn't know it,” Guntram whispered and started to sob uncontrollably.

'Fuck! He knows about the little job. Massaiev has to fix this one.' “Guntram, that boy tried to frame you in a drugs case!”

“He was my best friend,” the youth whispered with his eyes fixed on the board.

“Best friends don't rat you out.”

But Guntram didn't hear him as he was now openly crying. Yuri decided to ignore him and drive.

“What's wrong with him?” Massaiev asked Yuri the moment he saw the boy crying like crazy and doing his best to stop it, but unable to control himself.

“One of his friends from Argentina is dead. In France,” Yuri answered with a smirk. “He does not stop.

Give him something for the nerves. The boss arrives tonight.”

Guntram only saw Massaiev and clutched to his neck, crying louder than before, burying his face in the broad shoulder, mumbling something like “it's my fault! I should have dragged him to that café!”

'Great, he's having a nervous breakdown and Repin arrives tonight. I'm supposed to have him ready for going out at 8 p.m. His eyes are going to be red. Shit!' “Rimsky, get a tea for him. I'll take him to his bedroom.”

“Of course, give him something,” the bodyguard said in Russian.

“Come, child, you have to calm yourself down and tell me what happened. I don't understand a single word,” Mikhail Massaiev used a fatherly voice, hoping that this would relax the boy before resorting to tranquillizers.

'I never had to use them with him, and I don't want to start now.' The man had to drag the boy over the stairs as he was only crying and crying.

Once inside the bedroom, Mikhail realised that there was no way he was going to stop the weeping unless he used a chemical solution. 'He's too crazy to go out tonight. Damn! I'll try to get him to sleep an hour and maybe he's less crazy.' Without saying a word, he pulled from Guntram's clothes and managed to get him inside his pyjamas and under the covers.

Some minutes later, a discreet knock on the door announced Yuri with the tea and an eye drops bottle in hand. “Collyrium. Helps a lot against the red eyes,” he shrugged.

“Stay with him for a while. I'll get something for him.”

“You do it. Repin wants him in elegant sport at 9 p.m. at the VIP's of “The Lancet” Dinner and meeting with Oblomov, his wife, the official and Malchenko's wife too.”

“Fuck!” Massaiev cursed his bad luck. Of all days, his boss had chosen this one to take Guntram out for dinner with his relatives. 'They all like him and certainly the boss has decided to show Olga's replacement to the women. He has to be in his best behaviour!' He entered in his room and examined many different boxes. 'No, all this is too strong for him. Only a mild sedative. He needs to sleep a little and then, I have to work on it. It's only 5 o'clock.'

Mikhail returned to the room where Guntram was sobbing in the bed, already totally exhausted from the crying, with Yuri sitting next to him and speaking softly in Spanish, doing his best to calm him down. One look from him, and the Russian vacated the place for the French. Massaiev sat next to Guntram and petted his back several times before turning him around and sitting him against the headboard. “Take this and you'll feel better.”

“What's this?”

“Just an aspirin for the headache.” Massaiev said and Guntram drowned the pill with the glass of water Yuri handed him. “Now, you must try to rest a little. I'll stay with you.”

“He's dead, Mikhail!”

“I know, but you can do nothing about it, my child. Fate always reaches us no matter where we are. You should rest now. It was a great shock for you.”

“How could this happen?”

“I don't know, my child. Was he not in prison?”

“I guess so, Juan told me he was stabbed. Where were the guards? Why was he still there?”

“I have no answers for you. Now, try to sleep till 7:30. I'll wake you up. Mr. Repin will be here tonight and he wants to see you. He missed you so much and you want to look nice for him. He was for two weeks away, working to the point of exhaustion and he deserves your support. Calm yourself down.”

“Are you sure about this, Ivan?” Constantin asked still uncertain of the convenience of the idea while both men had lunch in his private jet.

“Sure, it's time Tatiana knows him and Laura also wants to. You have been living with him for over a year now. It's a miracle the boy has such patience with you. If he were a girl, I will tell you to divorce and marry him.”

“Fortunately, he's not. You know my tastes and Guntram is one of the best things that ever happened to me. Had it not been for you…”

“You would be still jumping around and driving us all crazy. Specially Massaiev. Does he still get the same money? He works almost nothing nowadays.” Oblomov chuckled.

“It's money well invested. I'm thinking to send him in June to do some castings so he doesn't lose practice.”

“Don't expect him to get another Guntram.”

“That is virtually impossible. He's a masterpiece. Unique. My best purchase so far. I'm thinking what to give him for his birthday.”

“It's in October!” Oblomov laughed a false protest. “What about a Renoir?” He joked.

“Could be. He likes a lot the one he has in his room. I wanted a Bronzino, as he loves his style but there's nothing available at the moment. I even suggested Lintorff to sell me one of the ones he has in Rome, but he nearly sent me to Hell. I offered to trade it for the two icons I inherited from my grandfather but no luck.”

“Once Lintorff has something, he never lets it go, Constantin Ivanovich. Like a pit bull.”

“More like a crocodile, Ivan Ivanovich. A crazy crocodile. Nothing about Morozov?”

Nothing, he's very quiet in the moment. Olga too. She's gone to Marbella with Stephanov.”

“She could do us all a favour and stay there. I'm more and more tempted to give her, her share and divorce her. I hate lying to Guntram and not seeing my children. If I could put them together, that would be great.”

“Boss, the minute he finds out you're married, hell will break loose. Four children? That's going to be hard to explain.”

“Three, and he always wanted children. One year more and he will finish the BA. Enough time as to organize everything. Sofia, Constantin and Vladimir can move to London. There are very good schools and they will like Guntram.”

“Children as babies. Your eldest will start high school soon.”

“It will be good to get rid of Olga. I have enough of her.”

Massaiev was on the brink of losing his patience with the boy. With great effort he had woken him up—

'just a sleeping pill for children!'—and convinced him to take a shower and get dressed for going out with Repin. He didn't want to at all and only grieved for his stupid friend. 'All his fault, who tries to rob the lover of a man like Repin?

The little cretin knew very well who he was because he was planning to blow our covers!'

First argument had been over the choice of clothes. The boy had refused outright to wear the beige brown jacket with the pink shirt and scarf. 'Lord, how dumb can he be! He has to meet the wives, and women melt when they see a young boy looking like just out from the Tommy Hilfigher catalogue.” After several tries, the boy had decided for a dark blue, almost black, suit and grey shirt. Resorting to his many years as diplomat, Massaiev was able to convince him to use the eye drops and do his best to “look normal”.

“The ladies don't deserve to have you brooding at their table. Don't say a word about this. Remember your education.”

“My best friend is dead and I didn't attend to his funeral! I didn't know it!” Guntram cried and for a second Massaiev believed that the mess would restart, but nothing happened.

“I know, but you can do nothing about it. If he were sick, it would be understandable that you want to visit him, but that's not the case. Come on, Guntram. You're a sensible young man. Be nice to Mr. Repin tonight and the ladies. Tomorrow you will speak with him about this. Perhaps he lets you go to Argentina after you have passed your tests and presented your work at Robertson's. You can't leave now. It's in a month’s time.”

“Everyone believes that he had it coming! Juan told me that he was into cocaine.”

'What's so rare? Many are into this. We need customers.' “You don't know that and it's none of your concern. You don't do such things and avoid people who do it. Mr. Repin will never want you near such kind of persons. Please, get ready. We have to be there at 9 p.m. Mr. Repin will arrive directly from the airport. He came all the way from Dubai just to be with you before he has to fly to Austin in two days.”

“I suppose you're right, Mikhail. Constantin does not deserve to get troubles from me,” Guntram whispered totally abashed and feeling miserably under his pounding headache. “That aspirin was not working at all.”

“I'll give you another thing; perhaps some paracetamol.”

“No, leave it. I'll be fine.”

“Of course you will.” Mikhail reassured Guntram and prevented him to take a dark tie. “It's informal tonight. Hurry up, Yuri will drive you.”

Much to Guntram's chagrin, “The Lancet” was an exclusive nightclub and not a restaurant as he had believed. He hated clubs because of the loud music, the lights, the incredible amount of people packed inside, no matter if you were in the VIP's area, 'instead of being stomped by normal shoes, you get Jimmy Choo's marks'. How can they walk with such things?' Constantin liked to go now and then to one, especially if it belonged to a business associate, but he hated to be parked in the middle of a loud room, surrounded by people he didn't know, with women partly clad and drunken or lascivious men who didn't care if it was woman or men what they had in front.

The Mercedes stopped in front of the velvet carpet, guarded by an unfriendly monster, keeping the young girls in check with a skinny blonde with a PDA, reminding him of Juno for her two faces; lovable for the “in”, scornful for the “out” people. “As if those people you walk through the door would care about you.” Yuri descended from the car, immediately getting the looks of all the girls standing in line and went to speak with her. He returned to the car and opened the door for him, something that Guntram also hated. To parade in front of people his own age was horrible because he could feel the envy pouring out of their pores.

Guntram walked quickly, ignoring the best as he could the looks from the crowd and entered the building, the floor already trembling from the loud music on the dance floor. He was almost unable to understand Yuri yelling at top of their lungs to go into the elevator to the upper floors were was the restaurant.

Once inside the elevator, he let out a long sigh, partly glad that the noise had diminished.

“It's dinner with Malchenko and Oblomov's wives. The girls want to dance later. Restaurant is much better and has a private dance floor, 'Far from the Madding Crowd'.” Yuri joked lightly. “They came from Paris to shop and will return in five days.”

“Does it mean I have to see them again?”

“Hopefully, yes.”

Guntram had to make a supreme effort to keep a nasty retort to himself. Once in the restaurant, only Constantin was there, having something at the bar.

“Hello, my friend, is nice to see you again,” Guntram greeted him, only touching briefly his elbow to show his tenderness. “Did you have a nice flight?”

“Hello, my angel. Fine. Ivan and Boris will arrive soon. Do you want something to drink?”

“No, thank you. I have a headache.”

“Why is that?”

“Nerves, I suppose. The exhibition,” Guntram lied not very convincingly, raising all Constantin's suspicions. “Robertson is driving me mad. We had selected twenty-five works and now I have to change two because he sold them to some man in Brussels and he does not want to wait beyond December to take them home. A hole in the walls would look bad and they're part of a series, so I'm in a mess.”

“Why?”

“Robertson wants to extend; till February 2005. He says that he has spoken with some critics and they liked my material a lot and he also believes in the sales potential. Makes sense to extend a month. He will be passing by tomorrow to check what I have at home and see if there's something to replace those two.”

“I had priority!” Constantin protested feebly.

“The Belgian walked into the gallery, saw the children's portraits and bought them. He paid cash, without dribbling at all. A fat fish to let go unscathed.”

“My cousin Tatiana Ivanovna Arseniev has been married to Ivan for more than twenty years. They're on a second honeymoon since several months. She was very happy with her portrait and laid down her arms for some time. Ivan on the other hand, let go of her mistress and things are going better for both of them.”

“That's very good for them. I appreciate Ivan Ivanovich. He's a nice person.”

“Maybe you have to paint another of her. Laura—-she's American—wants one too and has been pestering Boris for a long time.”

“I'll work on them after the exhibition, my friend. I have my hands full at the moment. My tests are due very soon.”

Constantin was glad that Guntram was never asking anything about his business, no more than the “are you all right?” or “can I do something for you?” and he let the boy speak for a few minutes about his subjects and the class trip to Bath a few days ago, relaxing with the sound of his voice, although there was something not completely right with his angel. He saw his guests arriving and as usual Guntram behaved like a gentlemen with the ladies, hearing their stories and briefly commenting on the Covent Garden. Tatiana liked him at once and Laura took some more time, like half an hour, to fall under his spell. Guntram offered her to take her to visit some galleries and to the Victoria and Albert. “I can show you Portobello Road, if you want. I work on Sundays there.”

“He's perfect for you, Constantin,” Tatiana whispered in his ear when he was saying good-bye to her.

“I'm very glad for you. You know I never liked your marriage.”

“Thank you, Tatiana.”

“Next time, he's in Paris he should visit me and our son. I guess they could be friends. Piotr is only two years younger. Ivan says he's a good kid.”

“The best.” Constantin kissed his cousin before opening the door for her as Ivan was busy speaking with Boris and his wife, while Guntram remained in the background.

The guests left in their cars and Guntram came closer to him to wait for the Rolls Royce, still uncomfortable about the large queue in front of the place. 'It's almost 2 a.m. Don't they ever go home?'

The doorman opened the car's door and the youth jumped inside, glad to be away and Constantin followed him, almost exploding in his desire to kiss him after restraining himself for the whole evening. The man launched himself to brutally kiss him and Guntram did his best to survive the onslaught of hungry kisses, almost tearing his shirt's collar, dying of shame at the show they were putting on for the bodyguard and chauffeur.

“Constantin, please,” Guntram whispered, slightly pushing the heavier man on top of him away. “It's only a fifteen minutes drive,” he pleaded.

“Guntram, don't be dense now,” Constantin growled, his blood boiling at the rejection.

“When we're at home, please. You know I hate it when there's people around,” he asked, making his eyes big and his lover only huffed, releasing his prey.

'I truly hate his shyness. More boys do it in the middle of a club and he can't stand a kiss in my own car!

Only good thing is that he does not look around like the others and that saves me a lot of troubles.' “When we get home, we go to my bedroom, no detours, Guntram.” He announced firmly and the boy only nodded, looking very gloomy.

“What's the matter with you? Are you not happy to see me?” Constantin lost his patience.

“It's not you, my friend. I'm tired and have headaches. It was a long day.”

“Well, flying from Dubai is not exactly a play date” Constantin retorted very obfuscated.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you,” Guntram mumbled.

“It's infuriating. You're never in the mood! I do my best to be with you and you only put your best face!”

“That's not true! I don't want to do it because I don't feel like it! Can't you respect this?” Guntram lost his temper. “The only thing you want is to fuck and then fuck some more! I'm not a bloody life size plastic doll!”

“Guntram!” Constantin shouted.

“My best friend is dead and the only thing you can think about is to fuck me! Well, I don't want to! I had enough! It's over. I'm sick of this. I want to go home!” He roared and started to cry again.

'I'll kill Massaiev for not forewarning me. This is impossible! That brat still ruining my angel from the grave! Pity I can't kill him again!'

“Guntram, I knew nothing about this. I'm sorry, angel. I thought you were upset with me. Let me hug you.” 'Excellent, I have to make now the full show of the caring man if I want to get something and it's going to be very bad sex because he's a wreck.' Constantin thought bitterly while Guntram started to cry again, plastered against his jacket.

When they arrived to the house, the boy didn't stop at all and continued there. 'Now I understand the expression cry me a river. This is a damned dam about to break!' “Guntram, we are at home. Let's go inside and we can speak in my bedroom.”

The boy stopped his crying and followed his lover meekly, without any kind of complaints. Constantin went to the library and served a whiskey for Guntram, convinced that the alcohol would give him a less dark perspective on life. “Here, drink this. You need it.”

“I don't want it.” The boy refused the drink but Constantin placed it in his hand.

“Guntram, you're still in shock. I had no idea at all. Forgive me if I forced you to join us tonight. Maybe you need some time alone.”

“No, Constantin. I just knew it today in the afternoon. No one ever told me a thing and it was a great shock. You have been so kind as to come to visit me. I'm sorry for what I said in the car. It was most thoughtless of me. You flew so many hours and you have to go to America and I'm giving you troubles.”

“Hush, don't mention it, my angel. Drink your whiskey and let me hold you a bit so you feel better.”

Constantin intoned in a soft voice and Guntram launched himself in his arms. 'Improving, but still far away.' He caressed with long strokes the youth's back and felt how the young man melted into his embrace, tightening his hold over Constantin's waist.

“I don't even know how it happened. Juan told me it was in the prison but I don't know which one. I missed his funeral too. He was my best friend in school and I wasn't there for him.”

“Where? In prison? Guntram, you're not thinking clearly. Do you have any idea of how it's?”

“No, but I let him down.”

“How? He nearly sent you there! He accused you of bringing drugs in my own plane! It's a tragedy when someone young dies but I cannot side with him. If it makes it any better, you can visit his mother in the summer. I remember her from my time there. I should write to her.”

“No, that's a bad idea. She hated me because I was not good enough to be her son's friend. I have no money, well not the kind of money they have. Maybe she thought I was living off him.”

“Guntram, that's very stupid. You're unable to take anything from anyone. Come, let's go to bed and spend some time together. I have to go away pretty soon and I don't want to waste another second with you.”

“You're right as always, my friend,” Guntram said and kissed Constantin in the lips. “I'm sorry for the scene. I did my best at the dinner, but I couldn't help it now.”

“It's all right, my angel. I wish you would have told me earlier.”

“You're so kind to me and I bring you more troubles.”

“You? Never. I enjoy each moment with you.” 'Massaiev will make penance in a faraway place. I wonder what else he had failed to report.'

Guntram sighed as Constantin went to take a shower before going to bed. He had truly no desire to engage in some bed activities as the other obviously wanted. His last kisses had been more demanding and he had nearly torn his clothes, only stopping when Guntram had to sit on the bed because of the growing headache and dizziness. 'Whiskey is too much for me. I only want to sleep.' He changed into his nightclothes and slid under the covers of Constantin's bed when he would have preferred to return to this own.

“Are you still dressed?” Constantin growled the minute he saw the boy partly asleep in his bed while he removed the towel tied to his hips. Decided not to let his angel escape from his duties, his hands caught the blond head and kissed him deeply, his tongue demanding entrance to the mouth and Guntram, still dazed by the alcohol, complied the best as he could, letting the man do as he pleased.

Sure of his dominion over Guntram, Constantin settled his body over him, effectively trapping the youth.

He unbuttoned the pyjama jacket kissing the smooth skin to temper the harshness of his actions. Doing his best to conceal his lack of enthusiasm, Guntram began to return the kisses shyly but letting Constantin roam free over his body. He didn't complain when the other pulled his trousers down and briefly touched his member to get his attention.

The boy slightly pushed Constantin away as he knew where all was leading him and he wanted to get everything soon over. The man looked at him partly enraged at the interruption but cooled down when the boy playfully jumped on top of him, kissing him with more fire than before. 'That's better, but you won't save yourself from a lesson tonight' He let Guntram kiss his neck and chest and directed his head toward his member almost forcing him to engulf it in one go, enjoying how the boy was doing his best to please him. When he felt that he was going to reach his climax, he turned his head forcibly and removed the boy from him.

“Let's try something new,” Constantin said as he sat on his knees, laying his back against the headboard.

Without giving him time to recover from his initial surprise at such brutal interruption, Constantin grabbed Guntram by the hips and quickly sat him over his lap, penetrating him with one vicious push, without any kind of preparation or warning.

The pain was almost unbearable and Guntram whimpered, trying to escape, but Constantin was faster and held him in his place by grabbing his leg tight and jerking it over his own hip, almost dislocating the youth's groin. “Stay put or it will be very painful, angel. This is all about trust. If you relax and let me do it, you will enjoy it very much. If you fight me, you will get very bruised.”

“Please, it hurts.”

“It only hurts if you allow it. Relax and it will be great. Let yourself go and it will improve.”

Guntram realised that he had not many chances to fight against Constantin as he had the upper hand and closed his eyes to ignore the pain he felt. The man began to fondle with his manhood to soothe him and kiss his nape, almost biting it every time he cried from the pain. 'Now, you cry for something worthy.' Constantin thought briefly, but didn't stop.

He started to move his hips slowly, burying himself deeper into the boy and he could feel how the youth did his best to be more submissive just to dull the pain. “You have to let me set the pace or it will be worse for you,”

he advised with a stern voice and the boy stilled his moves, allowing Constantin to have full control of the situation.

“He loves me, he won't hurt me. It's just a rough one. Relax and everything will be fine,” was the only thing Guntram could think about and laid instinctively his back against his boyfriend's chest, taking his hand as it was over his member, stroking it with long and strong moves. He fought over his fear of the man and relaxed his body as he knew that this was the only way to make the other finish and release him.

Constantin felt how the boy accepted his dominion over him and decided to reward him with some kisses and soft words of love poured into his ears, making him relax much more and almost abandoning himself into the arms that secured his chest and firmly held him from his manhood. “That's much better, my love,” he praised and increased the pace and strength of his thrusts, enjoying the power he had over the young man. 'Éven Guntram needs to be shown now and then who's in charge. He feels absolutely delightful now.'

Constantin reached his climax much earlier than he would have desired but it was a wonderful sensation for him. 'One of the best ever.'

Guntram removed himself from Constantin and bolted out of the bed, doing his best to refrain his tears till he reached the bathroom. Once inside he started to cry silently once more, opening the shower to muffle any noise.

Constantin recovered from the daze of lust and satisfaction to realise that Guntram had escaped to the bathroom instead of cuddling as it was his habit each time they made love. 'The least I need is to have him sore because of this.' He rose from the bed and noticed that there was a small blood stain on the silk sheet. 'Should have used lube. He's not used to doing it roughly like the others.' Without knocking he entered in the bathroom, finding his angel doing his best to conceal the tears the minute he saw him.

“Are you all right, angel? Shower will not help at all. Perhaps a warm bath. Are you bleeding?”

“No, I'm fine. I just need some time,” Guntram lied.

“No, you're not fine,” Constantin affirmed and took one of the bathrobes to cover him. “You have pain and you're going to catch a cold. Sit down and I'll get the bathtub filled. You should have relaxed more.”

Guntram chose to say nothing and only looked how the other started to fill with hot water the large marble tub. “Come, get in.” Constantin coaxed him gently and he obeyed, not willing to have more troubles for the night. “I'll get you a drink,” he offered and left him alone in the bathroom.

Like a wounded animal, he plunged into the steaming water, letting the liquid comfort his sore muscles and calm him down. 'It was too rough for me, that's all. He has never done something like this before. I guess I pulled the strings too much and he lost his patience with me. I should have not done it.'

“Here, drink this,” Constantin interrupted him and handed him a glass of champagne, leaving the bottle and another glass on the large tub's border. “Is it better?”

“Yes, thank you,” Guntram whispered and drank the glass in one gulp, not tasting it at all. Instinctively he moved away to make room for the man when he removed his own bathrobe and slid into the water but did his best to remain still when he felt his arms around him once more and his lips over his forehead, kissing him with infinite tenderness once more while his hand petted his damp hair.

“You're wonderful for me Guntram. You make me very happy. Let's do not poison our relationship with other people getting in the middle.”

“It was too much for me.”

“I see it now, but you have to understand me too. I do my best to be as much as I can with you, but it's never enough. Here, drink some more, but slowly this time or you'll get a headache tomorrow,” Constantin said with a sad voice, full of regret while he poured another glass for Guntram and one for him.

“I'm sorry. I don't understand what is wrong with me. This morning I was so happy when Yuri told me you were coming and then, I heard the news about Fefo and everything turned upside down,” Guntram said tiredly and laid his head against Constantin's chest.

“You should have trusted me and called me the minute you heard about it. I would have cancelled the dinner as you were in no shape to go out. We should have remained here and let you process your grief. All was a mess because of your lack of trust.”

“No! I trust you Constantin. I love you. I just didn't want to ruin your night.”

“We are together for the good and the bad times, angel. I just wanted to introduce you to my family. I want them to know how important you are for me. The girls just loved you. Be careful or you'll get Oblomov jealous.”

Guntram chuckled nervously, but was glad that their conversation returned to normalcy and Constantin was again his tender and loving self. He relaxed once more in the man's embrace and cuddled with him till the water froze.

Still shivering from the cold, the young man let Constantin dry and kiss him several times more, this time responding his kisses more truthfully than before. He felt relieved that whatever might have happened between them was over and everything was once again in place. He buried his face in the pillow, spooning his body against the Russian’s and fell asleep almost on the spot.

Constantin looked at the sleeping form of Guntram. Certainly, the boy was drained from his training but he had taken it very well, finally understanding what was expected of him. 'He was almost dead after it. Time to wake up and check if he has really understood.' He kissed the boy's neck and he automatically returned his kisses, still half asleep and allowing the man to do as he wanted with his body. This time Constantin took his time with tender kisses and foreplay, noticing how Guntram was more submissive than in previous occasions and more sweet to him, like in the beginning of their relationship.

In the aftermath of their lovemaking, Guntram felt once more reassured of Constantin's love for him and embraced him.

“I have something for you, angel. I got it this morning while you were sleeping.”

“What is it?”

“Those nuts muffins you like so much from that place in Victoria Station. I don't know how you can eat them, but I got them for your breakfast, lunch.”

Guntram jumped to his neck in gratitude because Constantin had remembered what he liked and had taken all the trouble to get it for him. “You're so good to me! I love you so much!”

'Only a few pounds worth in muffins and he loves me as if I would have given him a house or a car. I will never be able to understand him, but I love him nevertheless.'

They spent the rest of the Saturday together in the garden while Constantin worked in many things and Guntram did his best to write a paper, but although they were in a sort of honeymoon, he couldn't get his mind away from the previous night scene. Although everything was fine again, there was something he couldn't place well, nagging his brain. He decided to ignore the feeling and concentrate on his work.

Dimitri, the butler announced that Oblomov had arrived and Guntram was surprised to see him there. He greeted him and served a cup of tea for him.

“My wife likes you a lot. She wants to take you to Paris with her.”

“Tatiana is an impressive woman, Ivan. You should be proud of her.”

“I am. My mother-in-law is something else.” He chuckled and spoke briefly in Russian with Constantin.

“Guntram, we have to discuss business. Can you please leave us?” Constantin said very seriously, looking fiercely at his friend.

“Yes, of course. Good-bye, Ivan.”

“See you later boy. I hope I get a dinner invitation.” Ivan waited till the young man gathered all his papers and went inside the house before speaking. “Big shit boss. Morozov is making Lintorff's life hard in Poland.

We have to stop him before the German kills us.”