"Chinese Mafia? Our Fei here?"
"Isn't that going a little too far - just for a headline?"
"He's not your Fei. And no - it's so widely known, it wouldn't make any sort of headline. Perhaps a footnote in a society column - Chinese Mafia leader takes his hobby to a new level - enrols in University General Studies course History of Art…although I doubt most society reporters would dare dab their sticky quills into a hornet's nest like that…"
"But…he's so young!"
"So? Do you know how old he is?"
"As a matter of fact, yes, we do", Takato said, "it was his birthday some weeks ago, February first…",
"yes, when we went to the cathedral, meeting early, for the light, and it was a sunny day, icy cold…",
"It was his special wish. We can do that, for our birthdays, make special requests, mine was Michelangelo's Creation of Adam - didn't go to Rom, alas..",
"…and he was sitting in a pew, awash in the coloured light, looking real happy, even that sinister person, that Yoh…oh, so he's a bodyguard, of course…even he downright cosy…"
"yes, I remember," Takato said, "and then you asked him how old he was. I remember thinking that was kind of a personal question, he was always a little reserved about himself…I can understand that better now, of course. But I thought that you with your Woody Allen charisma" - "what?" - "well, yes, that you could pull it off…"
"Well…he did react a bit strange at first - I wondered whether perhaps he was a kung fu movie star and required to lie about his age - but then he gave me a real nice smile, real warm", Pjotr recalled dreamily, "and said twenty five. It was his twenty fifth birthday. And that he was waiting for a child to call, and hadn't turned off his mobile, left it on buzzer mode, and if I thought our god would mind."
"And you protested your atheism, and then the curator sneaked up on you and hissed at both of you to shut up…", grinned Takato, "Fei looked so cutely caught in the act, real young for his age in fact, and in that moment that Yoh guy turned toward him in a way that I felt certain he must be in love!"
"Yeah well, wouldn't be the first body guard to take body guarding to the next level! Think of a certain Mediterranean princess, or an American Pop Diva…at least Fei can't get knocked up by Yoh…"
Akihito rolled his eyes.
"I think you are both naïve beyond even the mushiest bourgeois conceptions…"
"Shhh…"
Illuminated by a shaft of pale moonlight the arrangement of bodies on the bed was shifting, the central figure rising.
Takato tensed, his fingers furtively groping for the diazepam syringe. Liu Fei Long was propping himself up on his right elbow, his shadowy hair half falling over his face. Although his eyes were glinting in the moonlight they couldn't tell whether he was properly awake, but he seemed calm enough.
They remained completely quiet, but the Chinese wasn't taking any notice of his surroundings.
He slowly, wonderingly reached up with his left hand - the three watching young men held their breath - and touched Mikhail's brow. The young Russian turned his face into the touch. In this moment he looked beautiful too, open and eager. Fei began trailing his hand along Mikhail's clear profile, hesitating for a moment on the Russian's pursed lips. Mikhail's breathing quickened; Takato felt sure he was awake, although he held quite still and kept his eyes closed. The bluish light gave Fei an ethereal appearance, as he continued tracing a finger over Mikhail's cleft chin, along the firm, stubbly jaw line. When he arrived at the ear, using all of his fingers now to ghost over the shapely, moulded shell, Mikhail gave an audible gasp. But Fei did not pause, obliviously letting his hand slide on into the wild, silvery curls. He remained that way, gazing at Mikhail as if sleep wandering, lips parted. Mikhail had opened his eyes, staring at him, breathing hard.
- to be continued -