"What are you doing ?" Charles whispered, looking behind his back worriedly.
Erik had taken his hand and pulled him in the chapel until they hid behind a high and heavy curtain. "Shh," he replied. He added : "And stay here" after Charles made a move to leave their hiding place.
Charles sighed and waited. And waited. He dared a look through the window. The scenery seemed to come from a fairytale. The window opened on a high gorge. Far below, an angry stream ran between trees and patches of yellow grass. A narrow bridge linked the two sides of the canyon high above the river. Charles felt dizzy just looking at it.
He waited until their guide's voice became a murmur in the background, from rooms away.
Erik sneaked a peek and smiled. "Come now," he said, drawing the curtain. The luxuous bedroom was empty.
"So, what did you have in mind," Charles asked. By now he was used to Erik's antics which didn't surprise him anymore. They challenged Charles's calm and obedient nature quite often. But God were they fun.
"I thought the bed was fascinating. Don't you think so ?"
The sculpted dark wood looked like a castle's silhouette above the matress. The artwork was indeed superb. But Charles suspected another reason behind Erik's sudden interest in the bedpost.
"You aren't serious, right ? This bed is a hundred year old. King Ludwig II slept here !"
"More reasons to test it !" Erik grinned. He walked to Charles like a predator to its prey. It begot shivers in Charles's spine. "Haven't you ever dreamed of sleeping in a king's bed ?" he added in a low and seductive voice.
Charles didn't find appropriate to remind Erik that, if he'd never tried the bed of royals before, he had known some of the finest hotels and guest rooms in the world. The burdens of being rich.
"I doubt you have sleeping in mind, my friend."
"Indeed I don't." He sat on the blue silk of the blanket. With a finger, he traced the geometric shapes and the fleur de lys and swans figures, then patted the bed, inviting Charles to join him in his quiet revolution against the system.
It didn't take long for Charles to jump on the bed and on Erik. Clothes flew everywhere. A masterpiece of a bedding was ruined.
Charles and Erik were quietly relaxing, post-coitus, under the silk coverlet, when they were interrupted by a gasp. In the entryway, a young blonde woman – obviously a guide – followed by twenty people at least, stood aghast, looking at the two naked men in the bed.
"Oh shit," Charles said, emerging from under the blanket and slipping in his boxer shorts, while mothers from half a dozen different countries covered their kids' eyes.
Erik, much less prude, stood up in all his nakedness, grabbed their clothes and Charles's hand, and left the room in a hurry through the opposite door. Laughing, he ran through half of the castle, reached the stairway – where they crossed path with another group of tourists and a new set of gasps.
They finally went out through a back door near the castle's kitchen, but didn't stop until they arrived on the bridge Charles had seen through the window, the Marienbrücke. The younger man hastily dressed himself – and realized that he had lost one of his socks.
Erik threw his arms up, exposing himself completely, and howled : "Ich bin frei !" His cry resonated through the gorge, amplified.
"Du bist naked, you dumb fuck !" Charles said, hitting Erik's shoulder with a laugh, before he threw Erik's clothes at him. "Get dressed. We need to go back to the hotel."
Erik slipped in his pants. "Why ?"
"I'd like to taste your free ass." Charles winked.
Never had a man dressed as fast as Erik. One would think he had strange superpowers. Well, maybe he had. At least in bed.