That's With An "E" by jon
This, my first story, is dedicated with affection and gratitude to Peter. His perseverance and friendship has made it possible. I happily give credit where credit is due. Peter is responsible for the correct grammar and spelling. That which is incorrect belongs to me. I have made so many good friends thru this medium that it is impossible to name them all. The exception being David whose dedication and hard work has enabled legions of writers the opportunity to publish. His gracious creation of Nifty has brought so many of us pleasure and excitement. It is our responsibility to support him with donations to keep this endeavour alive. If you would care to contact me about the story my address is: sortemose2002@yahoo.com
This story is about the love that two men find for each other. That by virtue of its nature means it is a homosexual story. If you find this offensive then please do not read any further.
Chapter One:
How on earth could he deal with this?
He was the man of ice, the implacable person unreachable and unfeeling. Lars looked at this man - maybe 'boy' was closer. How could anyone have a face that looked at home with peach fuzz and still be in college? His smile was a "sommerfugl" of iridescence. The eyes, peaceful yet piercing, were fragmenting his protective barriers one by one.
Lars was withdrawing to escape further notice when his host said, "Lars, I would like for you to meet an old friend of mine. Brandon, this is Lars."
Too late, now he was caught in that spider web of Southern manners and customs, Lars thought. How could he escape? Did he really want to? Yes, actually, this was way more than he had bargained for. He was here to study, not meet some American. Lars had been suspicious when John had invited him for seemingly no reason, and now, seeing this boy, he knew that his suspicions had been right. He was being set up. This just could not happen. Would not happen.
The boy/man reached out his hand and said, "I am so glad to meet you. I have seen you on the campus many times. I even asked people who you were." He smiled. "I hope you don't mind that I wanted to meet you, but I've always been interested in foreign cultures."
"Ohm. No, of course not," Lars replied, uncertainty clear in voice.
"I asked John if there was any chance that sometime I might be included when you came over," Brandon continued. "It is not often I get to meet someone from Danmark."
"I can imagine."
"Uh. Yeah." Brandon bit his lip. "So.. How long have you known John?"
"Not that long, just since my arrival here, but I feel like I've known him for years. He makes you feel at ease, but it's still intimidating when a stranger just seems to take over," Lars replied.
"He can be a little.. Ohm, bossy," Brandon grinned.
Lars nodded with a little smile. That was exactly what he'd wanted to say.
"I just assumed that you knew him longer than that. You seem so comfortable with each other," commented Brandon. "How did you meet?"
"Well.. I had some trouble with my schedule when I started at the university and he helped me. I guess I looked liked I needed it."
Brandon laughed. "Well didn't you?"
"Well yeah!" Lars smiled. "There was this awful big fat woman with a blonde wig, you know, the one with the toad face. He knew just how to deal with her."
"Oh, you met Miss Dumpusta! She's an institution here, but John always had a way with women."
Lars sipped his beer.
"No wonder John came to your rescue," Brandon continued. "Are you one of the lost souls he takes under his wing?"
"Hardly, I just needed some assistance," Lars sniffed, slightly offended.
"I'm sorry; maybe that sounded wrong." Brandon looked worried, afraid that Lars was upset.
"No, it's ok," Lars, said. "I think that I understand what you mean, now."
"Good," Brandon smiled. "It wouldn't do to have you angry with me, because I want to get to know you so that perhaps I can better understand you. Ohm, sorry, I meant your culture..."
Lars bit his lip to keep from laughing. "Really?"
Brandon blushed. "Ok, I admit it. I really want to understand you. He grinned. Are you uncomfortable with me?"
"That's hardly something that I'd expect a stranger to say," Lars remarked.
"Well no, but here you are not a stranger but a guest, and everyone will try to make you comfortable. I don't know how to put this, but when I noticed you at registration you seemed like you expected people to stay away from each other and not talk to each other or anything. But that's not our way."
"Southern hospitality, eh?" Lars asked.
"Yeah. I wanted to introduce myself when I saw you, but I chickened out. I've watched you on campus, getting settled in and all. You looked a little...alone."
"Oh did I?" Lars asked, a sarcastic edge to his voice.
"Ohm. Yeah. Uncomfortable."
Yes, here I am, not just uncomfortable but trapped in this god-awful huge house without a way to leave, Lars thought. This isn't how I wanted to spend my evening! I just don't get these Americans and their personal questions. It's embarrassing.
"Did you know that I am in two of your classes? I sit just behind you," Brandon said, oblivious to Lars discomfort.
"Are you?"
"Yep. I'm impressed how you seem to get it all, even the details most of us miss. I guess it's your concentration that makes the difference."
Lars blushed slightly.
"Are you ok? Am I still making you uncomfortable," Brandon asked, worried?
"Uh, a little maybe to be honest. You're so unpredictable. Is that the word, or is it unexpected?" He swirled his beer. "Are you always this forward with people you don't know?"
"No, no. I am actually quite shy. If John hadn't arranged this meeting I guess I would still be watching and following you around campus," Brandon admitted.
Lars' eyes opened wide. "You did that? Why?"
Brandon blushed. "Uh..."
Lars clearly enjoyed Brandon's embarrassment. "Did you forget to think before you spoke?" he teased. "You Americans are so hasty, it's as if you are afraid to analyse a situation before you act."
Brandon grinned. "OK, let me be even more brash so I can live up to our reputation. When I saw you that day..." He stopped, fumbling for words unable to continue.
"Brandon, if I may interrupt, would you mind if I take Lars for a few minutes to help me? I won't keep him long," John interrupted from the kitchen.
"Lars, what is it with you?" John asked obviously irritated. "You're being a little defensive, and even unfriendly."
Lars raised his eyebrows. "Well I'm sorry," he said, "but this is who I am."
John chopped some artichokes with evident frustration. "I don't understand. Brandon's one of my best friends. He's a great person, gentle and sweet - not to mention smart."
Lars frowned. "John, I don't need you to play matchmaker! This is all very uncomfortable, to have a date waiting when I arrive."
"Lars, you're such a ninny! I haven't arranged anything! Brandon wanted to meet you and he knew we were friends. He asked me to invite him the next time you were coming. That's it plain and simple. You've always been pleasant and warm with me. Now please go in there and be yourself."
"John, it's so bloody awkward," Lars protested.
"Just relax, be yourself and take these beers in for the two of you while I cook. Please, he is such a sweetheart."
Lars took the beers with a glare and left the kitchen.
"I hope you wanted another beer, because John has ordered us to have one 'or else'!" Lars smiled.
"Thanks." Brandon accepted the bottle. "Here's to Denmark and to your visit with us."
"Thank you. Here's to Southern hospitality," Lars toasted in return.
"Is that getting to you? I would imagine you feel like you have fallen in a cotton candy machine," Brandon wryly commented.
"Cotton Candy, what is that? The idea of sweet cotton is... quite unpleasant," Lars grimaced.
"Let me see if I can explain it," Brandon grinned. "It's sugar that is spun in fine filaments of many colours and wrapped in gossamer layers around a stick. You eat it. It makes a mess."
"Oh, you mean candyfloss! We have that too. Yes, I understand the comparison with southern hospitality. My studies of the south had prepared me for it, but I was still astounded when I encountered it first hand. It's been difficult for me to accept that it is sincere, but I am gradually realizing that it is," Lars said.
"Why?" Brandon asked?
"Well, anyone acting so overly friendly would come off as a fake in Scandinavia," Lars explained. "We're more measured with our words and, uh, gestures."
"So I seem fake to you?" Brandon asked.
Lars shook his head. "No."
Brandon smiled in relief and drank from his beer. "How about our accent?" he asked.
"What about it?"
"Isn't it weird to you?"
"Well yes, it's weird to anyone!" Lars smiled. "When I was registering for classes that was the majority of the problem. I couldn't understand a word that woman was saying!"
"Guess not," Brandon laughed. "She has a lisp on top of everything."
"I thought it was part of the accent!" Lars grinned. "But now I understand just about everyone. Sometimes it's still a problem, but it's rare. When I was in line at the cafeteria a black lady was asking me something, and I had no idea what she was saying until a nice girl translated, sweet tea or plain."
"Do you want another beer?" Brandon asked, holding up his empty bottle.
"Thanks." Lars smiled.
"You understood that well enough," Brandon laughed.
"Don't laugh at me!" Lars said. "Anyway, you speak clearly and it's easy to understand. Even with that distinct drawl."
"Are you making fun of me, `ung mand'?" Brandon beamed, proud that he knew the Danish term for young man.
Lars' eyes opened wide in surprise. "Well, that got my attention," he admitted. "Where did that come from? I'm impressed."
Brandon blushed. "If my face got any redder I would have to change nationality," he grinned. "I bought a small book on the Danish language. I am completely illiterate in Danish. But I've been practicing just a few words and phrases to help me make a good impression."
"Impressive."
"I'm surprised I didn't make a complete fool of myself! It almost never fails. I am such a klutz." Brandon smiled.
Lars smiled to himself. The correct term was actually 'unge mand,' not 'ung mand', but there wasn't really any reason to point it out, was there?
"I am flattered that you would go to that much trouble," he said. "Actually, I just may try to get you to blush more often. Its quite charming." He grinned.
"OK, I think I need a bit of the cooler outside," Brandon laughed. "Could we go for a walk? John's yard is an adventure in itself. Did he tell you that he is quite the bird watcher, even plans his holidays around 'birding'?"
"John, do we have time for a walk?" Brandon called out to the kitchen.
"Don't think so," John replied.
"That's ok, we'll wait till after supper." Brandon shrugged.
"Yes, I think a walk after dinner would be nice. Hopefully we won't be bird watching, though!" Lars smiled. "If you've seen one feather covered rat you've seen them all, as far as I am concerned."
"For God's sake, don't say that to John!" Brandon gasped. "He's passionate about it."
"Obviously." Lars grinned.
"That, cooking and music - well, opera," Brandon elaborated. "Have you ever had one of his meals?"
"Yes, he's quite good at cooking... I'm moderately interested in opera myself." He turned to the books on the shelves behind him. "I did wonder at the enormous collection of ornithological books, but we never really discussed it." Turning back to face Brandon he emptied his bottle. "My turn. Do you want a new beer?"
"Yes, they are delicious; he always manages to come up with something new. I have never had this Belgian beer before. How do you pronounce 'Stella Artois'? It is so smooth with just the right amount of body," Brandon replied.
"I never understood how you Americans can drink that light beer you all seem to like so much. Even your regular beer is just plain water." Lars taking the empty bottles went to the kitchen.
"Well Lars, have you relaxed?" John asked. "What do you think about Brandon? Are you enjoying yourself?"
"What is it you Americans say? 'Whoa', too many questions at one time? OK, I'm more relaxed thanks to the beer. I think he's interesting." Lars wanted to change the subject. "Is there anything that I can do to help you here in the kitchen?"
"Thanks, but no. I am almost ready to serve. You do have time for another beer before I switch to wine." John stirred something in a pot. "So, how's Brandon managing with the Danish icicle?"
Lars frowned.
"No Lars, no reason to get huffy, I was just teasing!" John wiped his hands on a towel. "Seriously, are the two of you doing ok?"
"I am not sure what you mean by 'ok', but I admit that I am enjoying the visit and his enthusiasm. He is so unrestrained. Sometimes I barely know how to respond. Well, call me when you want to serve and I can do the wine and help with the serving," Lars answered, trying to evade the question. He grabbed the beer and fled the kitchen.
"Here is your cold beer. Sorry for the delay, but I was chatting with John." Lars smiled.
"I can imagine. He was probably giving you the third degree and grilling you about what we're doing," Brandon smirked.
"Well, yes, he did have a few questions. This beer is really good, but we will switch to wine for the meal. It smells delicious, but I have no hint what he is preparing. Do you?" Lars wondered.
"He never tells until it's served, and then sometimes you can only guess," Brandon replied dryly. "I hope you're not a picky eater, because he loves to 'educate' the palate. I especially remember just loving a dish until I asked John for identification. His eyes took on a misty faraway look and he told me that it was the crowning glory of Offal. He called it 'sweetbreads' or the pancreas of a calf."
"I wish I'd seen you then!" Lars gasped. "If that had happened to me I would have fainted." He narrowed his eyes and stared suspiciously at Brandon. "If you're kidding I'll come after you! Danes are known for their bloodthirsty need for revenge."
Brandon laughed loudly.
"Shh!" Lars hissed, "If you get me in trouble you'll go down with me."
"Now that's an interesting thought! Oh, God, I cannot stand this much blushing in one night!" He grinned. "But you did leave yourself open to that one, you must admit."
"I didn't mean to make you blush, but you're cute when it happens," Lars smiled. "I really can't stand the word 'cute', but in this instance it's appropriate."
Brandon nodded.
"Much to my surprise I am enjoying all of this," Lars said, indicating the whole scene with his hand.
"SURPRISE?" Brandon asked with a hurt look.
"I didn't mean it like that. It's just that I have been here now for almost 5 months and the only friend I have is John. I hadn't expected to meet anyone else," Lars responded.
And I certainly didn't think I would meet as attractive a person as this Southerner. He's fascinating, not only smart but sexy and clever. I am afraid that this is going way too far for my comfort. What on earth will I do if he asks me out? It would be easier just to refuse and return to my books, but he is so irresistible, Lars thought.
"Lars? Lars, where are you? Earth to Lars.. You seemed to slip into another dimension just then. Your eyes were unfocused and I don't think you heard a word I said," Brandon said. "You also had this goofy smile. Mind you I'm not complaining! You seemed to be quite happy in a somnambulant sort of way. No, I am not trying to make you blush, but if you did I wouldn't object." Brandon smiled.
Just then John appeared in the door with the first dishes.
"Great John, let us help you get things to the table. Lars, you get the wine open and pour and I will put the serving dishes out. It smells great. Do we get any hints or will it be an easy identification?" He grinned at Lars. "I warned Lars that you probably wouldn't tell us. No, I haven't been filling his head with wild stories and untruths." Brandon grinned.
"Thanks for serving the wine, Lars, and you also, my sweet Southern boy. Would you please get the bread out of the oven? Yes, Brandon, I cooked biscuits just for you. If I'm not careful Lars will expect to be as spoiled as you," John giggled.
"With that giggle I am guessing you weren't drinking just beer while you were cooking!" Brandon commented with a chuckle.
"Brandon Darien Whiteside, you know better than to talk to your elders like that. Any more and I will send you to bed with no supper!" John retorted, barely suppressing his smile.
"That's an interesting thought," Lars mused.
"Well, here it is, Fillet de Monticello a recipe from a little restaurant that I loved but is no longer open. Le Petit Chateau despite the pretentious name it was known for it's simple but elegant food. These fillets are stuffed with a pate laced with truffles and a luscious brown sauce with sliced artichokes as well as Madeira. I think it was one of the cook's most popular creations. I knew him because I was a regular patron and he was always happy to share recipes. It didn't hurt that he was quite a sexy number," explained John.
"If it tastes as good as it smells we are in for a treat, not that there is any possibility that it will not," Brandon quickly added.
John glared at him with a level gaze, "Would you please explain yourself, Brandon?"
"It seems that you would be better off not making any more comments," laughed Lars.
Trying for a quick fix Brandon raised his glass of red wine; "I would like to thank John for his thoughtful invitation tonite because it has allowed me to meet our handsome guest from Danmark, Lars Jacobsen. Welcome Lars you are a delightful addition to John's family of friends."
John, obviously mollified smiled "Why Brandon it is refreshing to see you recovering some of your manners. Lars, what he says is true despite himself, you bring not only good looks but a charming wit and a razor-sharp intellect."
"You over state my assets which will become obvious over time," wryly responded Lars.
"Enough, enough of all this palaver, it is time to eat while our food is hot and eatable! Brandon would you please pass potatoes. Lars have some asparagus and pass them please. I have cooked our steaks medium rare, which is a concession since for me they are ready to eat when raw (a la tartare). I realize my taste for such undercooked meat is not universal," John laughed at the grimaces on both their faces.
Brandon smiled tentatively as his hand touched Lars when he passed the biscuits, "would you like some butter with your bread Lars?"
"No, but thank you." smiled Lars as he tried to stop looking at Brandon," John, this is the most tender streak I have ever eaten. Each taste is better than the last, where did you learn to cook?"
"I think you should open a restaurant! I have never had a bad meal that you have prepared. You can call it `John Eats'............no seriously, it would be a smashing success," exclaimed Brandon.
"Frankly, I rather like that for a name, it has a portentous ring to it. I am not to certain how well the general public might respond," chuckled John.
"After seeing what JT went thru with his I wouldn't consider the restaurant business. I am content to cook for friends here at the house. Friends like the two of you who have the good taste to appreciate the absolute very best. I guess I should develop a bit of humility don't you think, Lars?"
"John, this is some of the best food that I have ever eaten. The asparagus are just perfect, barely cooked yet just enough to have a wonderful flavour. What is it? I cannot decide except some hot pepper and something citrus is there," replied Lars.
"One of the things I did learn from JT was not to be a `Prima Donna' about recipes and how I cook food. I used a little hot pepper and freshly cut chervil from the garden and a bit of grated lemon peel. Quick cooking and ice water are essential for asparagus. I think we have had enough chitchat about my cooking and the food. Let's talk about religion, abortion and politics, my mother always admonished me to never bring them up in polite conversation."
Why is he always looking at me, and those smiles, I must resist. He seems so warm and gentle; it will be impossible to be rude to him. But me............is he blind, what does he see? Tall, gangly, thin, glasses and my English, its horrendous, what is he seeing? John I can understand, he is solicitous and protective but Brandon...those touches. He is constantly touching me, my arm as a part of conversation, to make a point or who knows? I feel so awkward when he does that and yet its so gentle and reassuring, it makes me feel so flushed. How did I ever get into this situation, how, how, I am always so careful. My sister would certainly enjoy watching me as I blunder and squirm from his attentions.
"See what I mean John? It's as if he is not even here. Lars! Lars Jacobsen wake up, I just don't believe we are so boring that you must tune us out. Lars, am I mistaken? Lars!"
"I am sorry, please accept my apologies to you both. Sometimes I am submerged by my thoughts when they seem to take charge of me. When this happens I am not aware of time or my surroundings. It's really reprehensible of me."
"Lars, it doesn't bother me in the least. I've noticed this `flight of fantasy' happen before and I find it charming. It's Brandon, our Southern Knight in shining armour that was so worried and concerned."
"Brandon please forgive my preoccupation it was unintentional. John, I don't know what I like the most, it's all so delicious," stated Lars trying to deflect Brandon's questions.
"Not so fast there, what were you thinking when you blinked out just now," Brandon persisted?
"It doesn't mat..........I can't seem to remember. It's of no consequence believe me my thoughts are not profound enough for you to worry. My, it's gotten really warm in here," Lars didn't realize he was furiously blushing. "I certainly don't see what's so funny to you two."
"Don't let your feelings be hurt, Lars, Brandon and I were just enjoying that vivid blush of yours. No harm intended just a response to your clever but evasive Danish charm."
"I still want to know what you were thinking," pouted Brandon.
"Brandon would you please relax and give Lars a break, after all he is the guest of honour," admonished John.
"Is there a secret to beef this tender? I don't often eat red meat but when it's like this it would be impossible to resist," commented Lars.
"When it's possible I age my beef in the fridge, it's just a matter of the controlled temperature and a steady flow of dry air around the steak. These have been aged for about a week. Of course you cannot really improve a piece of inferior beef. I also have beef at room temperature before I prepare it. I have not changed this particular recipe of JT's, it's just too good. I never hesitate to change a recipe as I cook if I feel it is warranted," John beamed from the compliments.
"Lars, why don't you do a Danish meal? My kitchen will be at your disposal. Of course, you may invite your friends. I will be your "sous-chef."
"I am only a serviceable cook, certainly not in your league. It could well be a fiasco but it's sweet of you to offer," demurred Lars.
"No, I am serious, it would be a welcome treat to have you prepare a meal. Just give me a list of ingredients you will need. Please say yes."
"Lars, I will be your scullery slave if you agree," promised a beaming Brandon.
"How can I say no when you both are so persuasive, OK, but no promises? I will cook a meal for 6 so you can invite your friends. I have no one other than the 2 of you. I'm not certain what makes a meal Danish but I will do a meal from my Mother's collection. I doubt that I will need anything not already in your kitchen. Is there anything I should not cook, something you might not like," queried Lars?
"Lars, that's my only iron clad rule, `don't ask and don't tell!' You cook what you want and to hell with anyone who doesn't enjoy it. Now may I serve you two a bit more? I have more wine. I am partial to this Spanish red; it's my house wine. Almost any one from the Rioja region is good they produce a dry rich red much like the Rhone wines of France. I seldom serve white wine I realize this is not democratic but then I've never claimed to be anything other than a benevolent despot. I should tell you we have a lovely Port for after the meal."
"John, do you also furnish limousine service with more wine?" Brandon petulantly whined.
"No, Brandon but as you well know I have 4 more bedrooms other than mine. I would love for the two of you to stay over and there is no school tomorrow. Don't expect turn down service and a chocolate on your pillow. We can have a leisurely brunch and then a stroll thru the gardens. I will be up about 5:00 a.m.; it's the beginning of the fall migration. I always check the traffic for something unexpected."
"I presume you refer to birds from what Brandon told me."
"Yes, YES! But I expect you children to sleep in, at least until the cartoons start," John giggled. "I keep extra toiletries hoping for the bonus of guests staying over."
"You southerners never fail to amaze me with your gracious hospitality."
"Come on Lars, please stay over even though I will be happy to give you a lift. If we stay we can eat, EAT even more, drink and be merry, I do not mean Mary as in M-A-R-Y...thank you. All the bedrooms have their own bathrooms and you can sleep as late as you want. Please.... please...Pretty please," begged a giggling Brandon!
"Neither of us are up to a driver's test just now, especially me, since I've never driven anything other than a bicycle," confessed Lars.
NO, NO, NO, NO, wailed Lars to himself. What will I do? I've never been in a situation like this. TRAPPED, and so utterly at a loss about how to behave. I cannot stop this silly smiling, it's as if I've lost my sense of restraint and reason.
"Lars, I didn't even hassle you, instead I just let you zoom away. It's a good trade off to see that goofy smile when you slip away," giggled Brandon. "Please agree to stay, it will be fun I promise," Brandon sinks to the floor on one knee with great flourish as he bows to Lars.
"Stop, please stop Brandon, I will stay. Just please no more theatrics, it's too embarrassing."
John smiled beatifically and poured another round of wine. "Let's just relax and share the moment with some wine, no women and absolutely no song."
Both Brandon and Lars replied with a hearty "Hear, Hear!!" unable to hide their smiles.
Lars raised his eyes and found Brandon focusing on his every move, "I hope I know what I am doing," he murmured to himself.
Brandon could not contain his grin "You do know Lars, I promise you do," startling Lars who did not realize anyone had heard him.
They could hear John humming some snippet of music over the rattling of pans in the kitchen.
"To you, beautiful shy man, to Lars Jacobsen, I am so; happy we have had this evening," Brandon raised his glass to Lars and hesitantly traced along Lars's cheek with his fingers in a feather lite caress. Lars realized that his hand was responding with a volition of it's own covering Brandon's hand, holding on to the moment as neither dared to break contact.
"To you Brandon Whiteside, to your Southern hospitality and to your disarming touches."
Oh my God, Oh my God, what is happening? He is so gentle, so warm; I want to touch his lips. No, no, no I cannot, I just can't. I'm not able to do this. What can I do he is so beautiful. That smile------I am giving up. It's lost, Oh my God, Oh my God..............
"Boys, what have I missed, you two are positively glowing. I go to the kitchen with the two of you at each other's throat and return to find you mute, oblivious to all but each other. My, my, my."
Both Brandon and Lars blush furiously, stumbling over their words "John, it's not what yo-----Oh, sorry it's just that---------------Hell, bells, John it's friggin' `Fedt'," Brandon exclaims, "just terrific, thank you for this evening," neither of the boys pulls back his hand, just the opposite as they interlace their fingers together as if afraid to let go.
"Why don't we go into the library and I will light the fire it's just cool enough to justify one. We can have dessert and a little port in there," suggested John.
"John, you relax, Lars and I will get the kitchen cleaned up in a jiffy. Lars, you bring everything in and I will load the dish washer," after a few minutes Brandon muses, "Lars you make doing the dishes fun, just by being with you."
"Is that what you tell all the guys, Brandon?"
"Only the ones from Danmark." smirked Brandon
"Brandon, what is going on? Why are you being so attentive, are you playing a game if so count me out," declares Lars.
"Why do you think this is a game? Have I given you that impression? Lars I am not and would not play games with you. Let's finish these dishes and join John."
Can I trust this man? Do I want to trust him? Why is he at once so close and then so distant? I am so confused and it's getting worse. My English has become so slippery it's failing me. I am loosing not only my understanding but also my stability and my ability for rational thought is disintegrating.
"Ok, Lars, let's grab our glass of wine and find John. The kitchen is spic and span. You do know that I am not playing games don't you?"
"Brandon I am confused, I want to believe but I have never been in a situation like this. I don't know how to act or what to believe."
"Lars, I am promising you, nothing except the truth, no games. This is unfamiliar territory for me as well. I have never met anyone who affects me like you do. I am almost 25 and this is the first time that someone's smile has ever affected me this way. You are not alone in your confusion and fear. I am afraid that a misstep might cause you to retreat or make you turn your back and pull away. It has never been this important before. Yes, I am afraid that I might loose my chance to reach out to you or to matter to you. Oh, shit, let's join John before you run out the front door."
"Brandon, yes, I am confused and frightened but I am not running," Lars reaches out and gently pushes Brandon's hair back then traces his fingertips along his cheek to his lips. Brandon inhales deeply closing his eyes as the fingertips glide over his lips, despite his closed eyes a tear trickles down. Lars touches it and brings his fingers to his lips. Despite all his inhibitions, he leans forward and his lips barely touch Brandon's, this shadow kiss so tender and gentle causes both to open their eyes in shock. Astonished by the effect it has on them. With eyes open they lean into a sensuous matching of their lips, it's as if a piece of a puzzle finally finds its place when they kiss. A shadow no longer they look into each other's eyes revelling in the comfort they find holding each other.
John tiptoes back into the library having seen the two of them together in the darkened hall. He smiles to himself in contentment as he picks up the recent issue of Birder's World. His hopes and plans coming to fruition. He puts on a favourite recording, The Presentation of the Rose and the Last Act Trio. He listens contemplatively as Crespin, Donath and Minton soar in the glorious majesty of love and its transcendent power. The tears he sheds are for the beauty of the music and the potential of his 2 young friends. For the glory of life that has been and life that will be, exhausted he closes his eyes and nods into sleep and the memories of his love---the love now gone, given over to the mists of life's end. A love so vast so perfect it has left him content and grateful for what was once his and is no more. His life was now a series of moments; quiet sharing and giving to those just beginning there lives and loves.
Lars pulls back not in rejection, not in fear but with happiness and smiles at Brandon, "You may open your eyes. I am not going away. This may be sheer insanity but I am accepting it as reality." He takes Brandon's hand and together, shoulders touching and hands clasped they find John asleep but smiling as the last strains of Der Rosenkavalier gently fades.
"God, Sorry I was asleep, was I snoring? You two are a wonderful pair. I had almost given up hope that you might meet and realize how good you were for each other. Lars, it's only in the last 3 or 4 weeks that I had begun to hope that you and Brandon would meet. When Brandon suggested I invite him the next time you visited I realized that it might just happen. Looking at the two of you now vindicates my machinations. Do you two forgive me?"
Brandon, clearing his throat, "John I do not have the words to tell you how much I appreciate what you have done," he tries to brush a tear aside without any one noticing, "this has been the most wonderful evening of my life, and it's all because of you. I will never be able to repay you."
"John, despite Brandon's hyperbole, he is speaking for me as well. You came to my rescue, then became my friend, a better friend, than those I have known for years."
Blushing John blurts, "would you like dessert now, well it would be better described as the last course and of coarse just a drop or two of Port."
"At least let us help you serve, you have done so much that you must be exhausted," smiled Brandon in gratitude.
"No, you two relax, snuggle up there in front of fire and I will be right back."
As they settled into the inviting warmness of the worn leather couch Brandon snuggled into Lars's arms and laid his head on his shoulder, "Lars this seems so right and good. Will you tell me what you have been thinking when you go into on of your trances?"
Lars looked down into Brandon's smiling eyes, "I was thinking what the hell was I getting in to with this beautiful, irresistible Southern man. That I must be insane to not get out of here as soon as possible and I realized it was beyond my control. Brandon, I have no experience, it is literally my first time for all of this. My first kiss, yet when it happened I knew that this was right and what I wanted. I have long assumed that anything like this was a veritable impossibility. I cannot understand why you have picked me. I have nothing to offer. It's baffling why a young, handsome man so obviously exceptional would find me attractive or interesting."
"Lars I cannot understand how you can be so blind. Yes, you are tall, no; you are not skinny and gangly but rather slender and adept with an economy of movement that is like a ballet. Unattractive, absolutely not! You are singularly beautiful, your hair, your light complexion especially your dark almost sinister eyebrows which serve as a dramatic accent for your sparkling eyes. They reveal your intelligence despite your attempts to obscure it. God Lars, your smiles although rare are so transforming, so warming, and you have the most tender beautifully sensuous lips I have ever encountered. Unattractive??? Hardly, and you wonder at my attraction to you...your intellect and wit, your personae. The core that is Lars that is the essential element which totally captures me."
John returning from the kitchen announces, "Here it is, some cheese, pears and grapes. Also some walnuts and a just baked crusty loaf of bread. I have been saving this '88 Port for a special occasion and what could possibly be more special than this. Would either of you object to some more of my music?"
"John, could we hear the piece that just ended a while ago," asked Brandon?
"Of course, it's my favourite opera, a tale of young love, love lost or rather love given up. It is a beginning and an ending but with the most gloriously beautiful music ever written, actually appropriate for us tonite. Oh, Lars I'm sorry I forget myself sometimes, its an opera by Richard Strauss, Der Rosenkavalier, 2 of the arias are my favourites, from the second and last acts. There are many recordings but my favourite is Solti conducting with Crespin, Popp and Minton. Ok, Ok Brandon, I will stop with the lectures," John laughs and then continues without missing a beat, "Lars, I have some Stilton, Havarti, Brie and some extra sharp Vermont cheddar. What is your fancy tonite? "
Lars takes a deep breathe and stutters, "Stilton, I have always heard about it but never have tried it. Some pear and bread with make it perfect, thanks."
"You just might like it because it's wonderfully aromatic, salty and delicious. How about you Brandon."
Brandon grandly announces, "Stilton, of course."
John gasps then giggles, "See Lars you have inspired our intrepid Southern country boy."
Sniffing in disdain Brandon declares, "This sophisticate could hardly be called a country boy. Actually John, I have never been more content or happier than this moment. I keep repeating myself but its true, how can I ever thank you enough?" He snuggled in closer as Lars enfolded him in his arms. He closed his eyes as Lars combed his hair with his fingers. You could almost hear Brandon purr in contentment.
It has happened. I thought it impossible yet he is in my arms, his hair a wonderful joy to touch and smell. Now he is a reality, a part of my life. That music shall forever be the hallmark of this day mused Lars.
"Lars, can that goofy smile now be allotted to me, I feel like it should be mine," begged Brandon.
"You two either liked the Stilton or were so distracted with each other you were not aware that you were eating it. Would you like more? How about more Port, or anything else? I am relieved that you are not driving home but staying over. I have your rooms ready, they are the first 2 on this floor down the back hall. You are welcome to sleep as late as desired. English muffins and cereal will be out with coffee, juice in the fridge. Brunch we will have later at everyone's convenience. I am going on to bed, but you two stay up as long as you want and help yourselves to anything in the house. You cannot disturb me in my upstairs room. I will see you tomorrow whenever you want to get up," John affectionately smiled as he withdrew for the evening.
"Brandon, I wouldn't hurt your feelings for anything but could we not rush things and use the separate bedrooms? It's all so new and intimidating, I love having you near and kissing you is magic but its all so new, please be patient with me."
"Dearest Lars, I want you to be comfortable and happy. There is nothing more important than that. I am hoping we can learn to trust and become more than friends. I will be patient, happily patient."
They leaned into each other, comfortable, their arms and hands going from an embrace to a caress, just enjoying being together touching and being touched. For Lars it was the blend of natural smells layered between and over the well scrubbed with today's exertions and sweat, Brandon's unique signature that was becoming so important to him. Although he was incredulous, the reality of Brandon's muscular body could not be denied, his arms holding them close would not be ignored nor did he want to. He was at last accepting this beautiful boy's affection. Still inhibited by his perceived shortcomings he could no longer deny the excitement of touching Brandon's lips causing a galvanizing ripple, as their lips found the magic of their natural fit........lips that were so obviously right for each other. How could he turn back after the joy found in their kissing. Where would this labyrinthine path lead him or rather them? What a contradiction after a lifetime of me only. Now to think in terms of them, us or we.........he could hardly breathe for fear that this nascent accord would evaporate. These doubts and uncertainties dissolved as Brandon's lips found his. This delicious melding as their tongues explored laying claim to uncharted territories. Lars found himself willingly surrendering to this intrepid adventurer, this oh so beautiful Southerner Hardly daring to breathe he opened his eyes looking down into Brandon's barely inches from his. In the background the singer's joyously blending their voices in rapturous swells sent waves of crescendos crashing into and around them as they continued lost in each other's eyes, lost in the voluptuous beauty of the Marschalain's elegiac paean to love. Not understanding the words just the sheer beauty of the music swirled around them as their vision was obscured by tears, which threaded unheeded down their cheeks. Not wanting this moment to ever end they gently caressed away the other's tear, more to just touch them than anything else. They dared not break this moment's communion as the last strains of the music faded, they got up together hands still clasped, leaving the library as the fires last flames disappeared. They arrived at Lars's room and he leaned down into a gentle tender kiss.
"Goodnight, Brandon, I never thought it possible to meet someone like you. You have given life to a part of me I thought didn't exist. I hope this is for real because if this is a game then you will be confirming my pessimistic expectations. I am trusting you, going against a life of isolation and solitude. I will see you in the morning," affirmed Brandon.
Brandon with great solemnity takes Lars's hands and presses them to his lips, never taking his eyes off Lars' "I will never hurt you. You have made me so happy, happier than I ever thought possible. Kissing you made it seem as if I have kissed anyone else before. I thank you for this opportunity to prove myself worthy of your trust. Good Nite beautiful man, sleep well."
Their lips met in mutual need to reassure each other as they parted.
Brandon backed away from Lars, his eyes never leaving Lars' until he turned to go into his room, blowing a kiss to a smiling Lars standing in the light from his open door.
The hall was suddenly dark as both doors quietly closed.
Brandon could not stop grinning as he undressed, looking around he tossed his clothes onto the wing chair beside the bed. He found a toothbrush still in its wrapper as well as toothpaste, a brush, new razor and even clean underwear the correct size. "Wow, John was not exaggerating when he said he was prepared for guests, this is first class all the way. Hope Lars has the same," mused Brandon to himself. "Lars, Lars, Lars Jacobsen, what a wonderful name, and what a wonderful man. He has no idea how exceptional he is. No idea at all. This beautiful, brittle sometimes bristling, unyielding Dane, whose reserve is finally beginning to soften as his barriers fall. I will not fail him, no never.........."
Lars, collapsed into the chair, his mind reeling, arms and legs akimbo. He forced himself to try to relax, he must think logically and be calm. He methodically undressed folding every article of clothing neatly, careful to avoid wrinkling his clothes. He thoughtfully surveyed the room. It was a harmonious blend of muted tans, ochre and deep sea blue. He was surprised to find silk pajamas, exactly his size, a change of underwear and toiletries as promised. He was unaccustomed to such pampered care. When he thought about Brandon he wondered how he was faring but then he must be accustomed to John's lavish care.
Brandon, how on earth had this charming handsome man managed to upend his routine so precipitously. He, Lars Jacobsen had abandoned it with an alacrity that belied his years of slavish routine. Brandon's touch, it was galvanizing like a flash from a stun gun, taking his breath, blanking out reason.
He inspected his reflection as he brushed his teeth. It was the same, his face unexceptional, uninteresting it could not explain Brandon's attention. His doubts and fears began to resurface even those scuttled by Brandon's persistent attention.
He clicked on the radio by his bed, it was preset to the local NPR station and the familiar strains of Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet surrounded him as he reached to turn out his bedside lamp. If he had been superstitious he would have worried about its being an omen. Instead he just succumbed to the lush torrent of music as he fell asleep. His dreams were quixotic flashing back and forth between English and Danish. He tossed and turned twisting himself into a tangle of sheets and pajamas. He slept fitfully thru the nite fighting his dreams and sheets, finally sheer exhaustion claimed him.
He slowly became aware of his surroundings, keeping his eyes closed to prolong the feeling of peace. A lovely piece of music was playing and try as he may he could not identify it. He sensed he was not alone but that could well be his over heated imagination especially after the night's battles. He listened to the piano's cascades of sound and stretched pulling the pillows over his head. He turned on his side tying to find a more comfortable niche when his leg touched something on the bed, it jolted him. He slowly peeked out from under his barrier of pillows to find a beaming Brandon watching his every move. Despite himself he could not suppress a smile.
"How long have you been sitting on the bed, Brandon?"
"Just a while, I was enjoying watching your face while you slept. It was amazingly animated for one asleep. You even managed one of those goofy smiles." giggled Brandon
"Well, I am glad to have been some entertainment for you even at this hour, actually what time is it," Lars asked?
"Not all that early, it's 6:45a.m."
"6:45!" groaned Lars, "you call that NOT early, are you like John, a bird watcher getting up before dawn?"
"Not really although I dearly love accompanying him on his morning jaunts. I get up between 5:30-6:00 every day, always have. I am instantly awake and ready to go. I love that time of the day."
"Oh, no......you are one of those perky effervescent anomalies designed to plague normal people as they gradually wake up."
Pouting Brandon replies, "ghee, you would think it was a capital offense to be happy to see you. Are you always this grumpy when you wake up?"
"Just because I wake up in a normal manner hardly merits being classified as grumpy," retorted Lars.
As Brandon straightens the covers around Lars, even plumping his pillows, Lars notices the glass of orange juice and neatly folded newspaper ready for his perusal.
He looks up into Brandon's eyes which are watching his every move, he smiles awkwardly, embarrassed by his churlish morning temper.
"I'm sorry Brandon, it's just that I am not a morning person."
"That is ok," replied Brandon, as he gently pushes Lars' hair back off his forehead, "you really are beautiful when asleep, I felt a twinge of guilt watching you this morning. It's just that I couldn't stand being away any longer. It took me forever to fall asleep and when I did it was to dream about you. When I woke up I just had to check to see if you were ok, and the rest is history as they say. I have a pot of coffee ready and the kettle on if you prefer tea."
"Brandon you are going to spoil me, what if I start to expect service like this?"
"That's what I am counting on, so which will it be and do you want cream and sugar? John is still out birding."
"I will get up, this is really too much, Brandon."
"NO! I insist...........what would you like, please?"
With a pretended sign of impatience Lars whispers, "Ok, I give up, coffee with cream and sugar please."
Lars watches as Brandon bounces out of the room, "God, he is even better looking in the morning and so happy, what's a person to do?" He gets up, goes to the bathroom and a much-needed moment of relief as he pees. Quickly brushing his teeth he dives back under the covers just in time.
Fully awake now he smiles as Brandon returns balancing a tray with coffee and 3 miniature roses in a bud vase, an English muffin, butter and preserves. As Brandon is shyly putting the tray in his lap he asks, "Where is yours?"
"I had mine when I first got up but I will be ready for brunch later."
"I guess you are used to John's attention for house guest?"
"Actually, no, this is my first time overnight even though I have been friends with him for several years."
Lars looks at Brandon with a quizzical look.
Blushing furiously Brandon stammers, "there have been opportunities but this is the first time I've ever wanted to stay over."
A smile replaces doubt and Lars says, "Brandon, I am happy that you did."
Brandon leans over the tray and very lightly kisses Lars on the tip of his nose, then takes up his muffin and spreads butter, "Which do you fancy, fig or grape?"
"Fig on one side and grape on the other since both are new to me, such service Mr. Whiteside, are you indeed trying to spoil me?"
Brandon's response is a dazzling smile accompanied by giggles and twinkles in his eyes. He touches Lars' cheek with a gentle caress, "I will meet you in the kitchen in a few minutes take your time. I just wanted to be here as you woke up, I will not intrude any longer." As he starts to get off the bed Lars reaches out and catches his shirtsleeve, "Please stay Brandon, I enjoy having you with me."
For a moment Brandon's face turns serious as he looks into Lars' eyes. "Thank you sweet Lars," as he resumes his place touching Lars' leg.
After Lars has finished Brandon inquires, "May I get you anything else?" Taking up the tray trying not to notice how the terrain of the once level covers on Lars's lap have changed dramatically. Staring he starts fumbling and nearly spills the tray just barely making a quick recovery. He blushes a bright, vivid crimson as he flees not waiting for Lars's reply.
Despite himself Lars cannot contain his giggles as they echo down the hall thru the open door that Brandon left in his hasty escape.
In the kitchen Brandon's face took on an even brighter color as John entered to the sound of Lars' giggles with an eyebrow arched in question. "Good morning to you Master Brandon, your face is as red as an Irishman's cheeks after his fourth pint. Dare I ask the cause?"
Brandon turns to the sink mumbling incoherently about all terrain relief maps, starting to rinse the morning dishes. Hoping to avert further embarrassment, he asks, "John did you see anything new or interesting this morning?"
"Not really just a few of our old reliable friends, a bright red cardinal, a robin with an especially red breast, a red bellied woodpecker and last but not least a red headed woodpecker," John wickedly recited the list with a gleam in his eye.
Brandon gives an audible sigh with what sounds suspiciously like a muffled expletive under his breath.
Lars standing in the door way with a half smile greets John, "Thank you so much, everything, my room, pajamas were so generous it was all perfect how can I ever thank you enough?"
"You can begin by explaining what you did to make Brandon turn such an incandescent shade of red?" guffawed John.
Well that is it for now, I hope others will be interested in Brandon's blushing. To contact me: sortemose2002@yahoo.com