Charles marched down the road, the sun's light now almost completely gone. He would reach the town's lights soon, but he was beginning to regret his decision.

Turning around was impossible, however. Erik had confessed it all as if he was doing nothing wrong but having a glass of sherry too much, and then he had the audacity to shift the blame to William!

A new man every night. Charles had never been so angry in his life. His heart was pounding still, but soon the blush in his face faded and he realised he was alone in the dark, the moon's light just letting him see the road ahead. He heard the sea, and could glimpse lights from the town.

He was an idiot, wasn't he? His anger now turned to shame, he was about to admit defeat when he heard the trot of hooves. A hansom soon emerged, and Charles stood to the side.

'Arrêtez!' William called to the driver as they passed. 'Charles, what on earth are you doing here?'

'Please, let me in and turn around. We can't go back to the villa now.'

'Come here,' William helped Charles up and ordered the man to return to town. Putting an arm around Charles' shaking shoulders, William kissed him softly. 'What happened?'

'Erik,' Charles said, but then realised he could not explain, for he had no idea why, exactly, he was so frightfully angry.

William sighed heavily. 'What has he done this time?'

'Nothing. I do not wish to even think about it.'

'Do you know what I wish? That you would be free of him.'

'What do you mean?'

'He loves bringing you along like some sort of pet,' William said. 'Showing you off to his social equals, as if he is doing you a great favour to allow you to be in his company.'

'That's not true...'

'If you say so.' They remained silent for the rest of the trip, getting out at the Hotel de Paris, the most luxurious hotel in town, built when the Cote d'Azur was first becoming the place to be for Europe's elite.

Charles took one look at the massive entrance and protested. 'I can't afford to stay here.'

'I already have a room.'

'Why?'

'Because I was getting tired of being looked down on by Sir Erik,' William said. 'We will send for our things tomorrow. Come.'

Stunned, Charles followed blindly into the lobby. It was enormous, with great white columns, a curving staircase to the right, and filled with Louis seize furniture. There were mirrors on every wall, making it seem endless. People were coming and going depending on how early their evening had started. William led the way to the stairs.

'Mr. Lehnsherr!' Charles spun, expecting to see Erik somewhere in the lobby. Had he followed them? Charles would tell him exactly what he thought about that.

It was Pierre who had called out the name, but for some reason he was running towards them, a delighted smile on his face.

'Erik, there you are.'

'Excuse me?' William said. 'Who are you?'

'We met last evening, Sir. My name is Pierre. You invited me to your villa?'

'I am sorry, I think you have me confused.'

'I do not, Sir, I could never forget a face like yours.'

'I do not know you, Sir, please leave.'

Pierre's face fell and he swiftly escaped. Charles stared at William, who did not seem to notice as he continued up the stairs.

Eventually, he realised Charles was not following. He turned, frowning. 'Charles?'

'You know that man,' Charles said.

William shrugged. 'I might. I meet a lot of people. But you heard him, he called me Erik.'

'Yes, but only because he thought that was your name.'

'And why would he think that?'

'I have to go,' Charles said. 'I have to get back to the villa.'

'Why? Is Erik Lehnsherr your master? Please, Charles, can you not see how poisonous he is?'

Charles smiled sadly. 'Yes, I see. But at least he is honest. In a way, he has always been the most honest of all my acquaintances.'

'Honest?' William gave a dry laugh. 'The man takes pride in the fact that his marriage is built on lies.'

'Yes, and they both know it, which is why it is the least deceitful of marriages.'

'Listen to yourself. You sound like him!'

'I think I would rather have his nonsense than your cruelty.'

'Cruel? How am I cruel?'

'You just broke Pierre's heart.'

William shook his head, utterly baffled. 'Who?'

Charles turned and ran.

He found the same hansom to take him back, spending the last of his ready money. By the time he got back to the villa the moon had disappeared behind clouds and all was dark, except for a single light on downstairs.

Charles found the door locked and cursed, glancing behind him to the gate, wondering if he should go round and see if the patio doors were open.

'Don't be an idiot,' he said, knocking firmly three times. The wait was agony, and as he heard Erik's footsteps approach he almost turned and ran again.

Erik opened the door as if he knew who was there. He looked like he had been drinking. His jacket and tie were gone, his top three buttons unbuttoned, and his eyes were glassy. He carried a lit candelabra.

'Charles?'

'Erik,' Charles said, then nothing. Erik simply stared, waiting for Charles' apparition to disappear. When he proved to be solid, he stepped aside to allow Charles in.

'Did you walk around all this time?' he asked.

'No,' Charles said as Erik locked the door. 'I went to town, then came back.'

'You can't have walked all the way there and back so quickly.'

'No, I was picked up by William.'

'Ah, I see. Well, I suppose you wish to go to bed. I was thinking of doing the same. Good night.'

'Damn and blast, Erik!' Charles cursed. 'I've been such a fool. Please forgive me.'

'All forgiven and forgotten, dear friend,' Erik smiled, but his eyes were sad. He walked into the drawing room, setting the candelabra down on the table and picking up his half-full glass. Charles followed, at a loss.

'Erik, wait here,' Charles said suddenly.

'Why?'

'Just, wait.' Charles ran, taking the steps two and a time, and returned quickly with the Portrait. Erik grimaced when he saw it. Charles placed it on one of the chairs.

As he gazed at it, it appeared to him now as a hideous symbol of his own artistic blindness. In the pursuit of some ineffable quality of art, he had thought he had found it in William. But even then, before Erik's education, it had been a lie. It had been selfishness, disguised as youth. He saw now a certainty in William's eyes he had not seen before: a certitude that the world would be alluring, whether it was filled with bliss or melodrama, for all the world was his stage and he the star. All he had needed was Erik to show him where the drama was set.

Charles again ran out of the room, returning this time with a knife from the kitchen. He gripped it firmly and put it to the upper left corner of the painting, cutting one long gash diagonally. He then cut pieces out of it, gathering them together until only the edges were left in the frame. He then took the candelabra and opened the doors to the patio. He walked out a few feet away from the house and set the pieces on fire. They burned well, and he quickly had to drop them to the stone floor.

He watched the pieces burn, then went back inside. Erik was seated in the sofa, watching Charles with an unreadable expression. Charles carefully placed the candelabra on the table and sat next to him.

'It is finished,' he said.

'I'm sorry,' Erik said.

'What have you to be sorry for? It was I who accused you.'

'I mean for William. It was just as you said it would be. I corrupted him.'

'You liberated him, and he was very ungrateful,' Charles said. 'He took all you showed him and twisted it. I do not think he ever really liked either of us.'

'But you loved him.'

'No, I loved what he produced in me, but it is all ugly to me now.'

Erik glanced at the ruined portrait. 'You never loved him?'

'If I did, I can't recall what it felt like.'

Erik gave an involuntary sigh of relief, bowing his head.

Charles wanted to reach out. 'I must have seemed such a fool.'

'You have never been a fool to me, Charles,' Erik said. 'Even when you are foolish'.

'How could you put up with it? The both of us, in your house,' Charles said, blushing at the thought of what William had done to him just upstairs. He had not wanted to, as he had claimed the walls were too thin, but William had persuaded him one evening when Erik had been late in coming home.

Erik said nothing to this, so they fell into an awkward silence. Charles had never felt so odd in Erik's presence before. Slowly, Erik looked up at him, an odd thought coming into his eyes.

'You came back when you realised I was telling the truth about William and his men.'

'Yes,' Charles said. 'We encountered one of them in the lobby of the Hotel de Paris.'

'So, you realised I had not been with anyone.'

'Yes, exactly. The man recognised William, but he did not even remember him.'

'You came back to me.'

'Yes, as I left here Will-'

Erik kissed him. It landed a bit clumsily, but Charles tilted his head instinctively and Erik pressed harder. Erik held Charles head in place, so Charles grabbed Erik's collar and held on.

'Erik,' Charles gasped between kisses.

Erik stopped, hands falling to Charles' shoulders.

'I did not intend for you to stop.'

'Oh.'

Charles kissed his smile, half laughing as they opened their mouths to each other. Giddiness overwhelmed him as every nerve sparked. Growing bold, he slipped his hand past Erik's collar to the bare skin, feeling its warmth. He tasted of drink and smoke, but Charles could not care less.

Erik stuck his fingers through Charles' hair, moaning and pressing closer. 'Charles,' he whispered. 'Let me take you upstairs. Please, I must have you, at last.' He sounded so eager and desperate. Charles nodded into the kiss and Erik pulled him up. Charles held fast, and together they kissed and stumbled their way upstairs, like school boys sneaking into their dormitory. By they time they reached Erik's chambers they were breathless and laughing. Charles jacket was on the floor and his tie followed fast.

They paused in their merriment to light a single candle by the window. Once accomplished, Erik's last button popped and he whipped the shirt off with a grin, stalking Charles as he backed towards the bed.

Charles felt as though his head was floating somewhere near the ceiling. Erik's chest was wide and much more muscular than a man of his standing had any right to be. At Erik's tug he pulled his own shirt over his head. 'Beautiful,' Erik whispered, taking Charles in a wet kiss, lowering him to the bed.

Charles was certain his world had come to an end, or into being. He wanted to scream to the heavens for forgiveness. All his life he had searched for philosophic love, for that old bohemian ideal of truth now long out of fashion. And here it was, on top of him.

Not so philosophic.

Erik pushed up on his arms, giving Charles a wicked look before undressing him. Charles closed his eyes. It was a bit cold once he was naked, and he blushed to open his eyes, though he did eventually. Erik was naked by the bed.

'Do you want to get under the covers?' Erik asked. Charles nodded and moved as Erik lifted the sheet. He immediately felt more at ease and nervous as Erik slipped in next to him. Erik reached out and cupped his cheek, guiding him in for another kiss. Charles relaxed. As they continuing this comfortable kissing, Charles reflected on how different it was from William's youthful energy. But he quickly banished the boy from their bed.

Kiss by kiss, Erik moved until he was properly on top, their bodies sliding pleasurably together. Charles gasped and held on to Erik's shoulders. He parted his legs wider, blushing hotly as Erik sucked on his neck and settled against him.

'You are mine, always and forever,' Erik whispered.

'None of your nonsense?' Charles breathed.

'I believe it is you who shall become nonsensical tonight.' Charles laughed and kissed him, liking the sound of that promise very much.

'Will you let me have you, all of you?' Erik whispered.

'Oh,' Charles said. He nodded, though he was nervous. William had often tried that, but he had always given up halfway and gone the quicker route to pleasure. Erik kissed him before disappearing under the sheet. Charles almost sat up in surprise, but then his eyes rolled back in his head and he all but collapsed against the pillows. 'Oh,' he repeated, in a much more enthusiastic tone.

Erik led him on a merry chase of ecstasy, teetering on the brink all the while. Charles tried not to be so loud, but it was proving difficult since to keep it in was to keep his pleasure in, and that would be too much. All too soon, Erik crawled back up, settling between Charles' legs again, stroking some hair out of his face. In response to his silent question, Charles kissed him.

He closed his eyes and kept them shut. They moved together with exquisite pressure, Erik being so patient as to drive Charles mad. Soon he was pulling at Erik's shoulders, clawing at his back, kissing everywhere. Erik did not obey, but instead gave him a most thorough education. Apparently, William had not had this lesson.

'Open your eyes,' Erik whispered, and Charles did so. He felt a hand at his member at the peak of their ecstasy, and that was all it took. Distantly he heard Erik laughing, or moaning, he wasn't sure, as his ears were ringing. Erik buried his head in Charles' neck, losing his patience at last.

Skin shining with sweat, Erik gave him a kiss on the cheek before disentangling them. He fell to the side with a great sigh and laugh of giddiness, which infected Charles.

'Somehow I never imagined you so merry while lovemaking,' Charles remarked.

Erik raised an eyebrow at him. 'I never imagined you lovemaking at all.'

'All art and no life?' Charles suggested.

'A jealous hope,' Erik said, causing Charles to blush, which he hadn't thought possible. He shifted closer and put his head on Erik's shoulder.

'When you first got married,' Charles confessed. 'I think I gave up hope, even though I had no concept of this sort of love.'

'But you know how Joan and I are,' Erik said.

'Yes, but not then.'

'Damnably tedious,' Erik said. 'If only I had been more handsome, I might have been your muse.'

Charles raised his head, sitting up and looking at Erik's striking features. 'You are the most handsome man I know. William was pretty, nothing more.'

'His forehead is far too big.'

Charles nodded sympathetically. 'He will never grow a proper beard like you.'

'His nose is too small for his face.'

'Yes, and his eyes are really very dull grey, not blue at all.'

'You took far too many artistic liberties.'

Charles smoothed his hand down Erik's chest. 'And he is far too skinny for me.'

Erik slipped a hand round Charles' waist. 'Hmmm, I like them skinny,' he murmured. Charles grinned and leaned down for a kiss. He then went to the window and blew out the candle before coming back to bed for a good night's rest.