Into the Lion's Den (19 page)

“Enough to want to live with him. We get along very well and I admire his character.”

“Guntram, are you really gay? You're not like Rodrigo; he was a true gay; he sucked all the school cocks for free.”

“That's gross, Fefo. That was just a rumour.”

“Guntram, I know it first hand. He was drooling all over us in the showers.”

“Fefo, what's your problem if I go to bed with him? I like it!” Guntram exploded, enraged at the permanent questioning for the past months.

“Do you say it like that? “I'm being fucked by a man, who's my sugar daddy, and I like it.” I was expecting something more from you, Guntram.”

“He's not my sugar daddy. Look, go home before we fight. If you don't approve of my choices, then, don't come to me. I'm sick of doing what everybody expects me to do! He has been the first person to treat me decently and show a real concern for me.”

“So decently that he has to dress you up like his favourite doll and get you stuck with a sniffer dog, so you don't fuck with any other person?”

“Did you come all the way from Milan just to criticise me? What is your problem? It's not as if you would lift a finger for me if I'm in trouble. You never did before.”

“Guntram, you're like a brother to me and there's something fishy about those Russians! My mother says that this Oblomov backed off from every project. He's forcing us to make new deals or threatens to drop everything.

Many of our friends lost money with him.”

“Are you asking me about your mother dealings? If I'd have a single cent, do you think I would put it in a country that defaulted so graciously? How much was it? Two hundred billion dollars from the State and how much more from private companies? Your mother was cheering when the president announced the default! I never saw her so happy in her life! Did you pay your own mine workers or did you again tell those poor devils that all your money was trapped in the banks like she did in December?”

“How dare you to criticise us! You're nothing!”

“Great, so it shouldn't matter who I fuck with. I don't care what you do in bed.”

“That Oblomov is Mafia. Of the worst kind. Do you know how he dealt with the trade unionists in that gold mine concession he got for a very cheap price, at my mother's back? Their main leader is now part of the foundations of a new hospital in Patagonia.”

“If you have any allegations, go to the police.”

“The local police obey them! The Governor is on his side! My mother wants to start a Senate inquiry about many banks getting their money out of the country in cash through containers and planes; two of the five companies who did it belong to Oblomov!”

“Money in containers? And all our local thieves missed it? Please!”

“The local gangs—according to our intelligence sources—are terrified of these Russians. They were like a horde, crossing the Triple border and killed many of our criminals. They started to invade us in 1996 and it was just prostitution and some smuggling because it was very easy to obtain dollars in Argentina. Later, they continued with some internet fraud, collecting taxes to local companies, immigrants for slave labour, drugs and weapons through the Triple Border. They supply to anyone who has money! Terrorists included. The American Embassy is very concerned about their activities in our country.”

“The Russian Mafia or Oblomov's? Because those are two very different things,” Guntram said very coldly. “Look Federico, I know Repin and he's a good person. Stern, yes. Not funny or outgoing, also true, but to accuse him of being a Mafia boss just because he's gay, is somewhat extreme. He has done nothing against you or your mother.”

“He commands this Oblomov just with a single look. My mother saw it.”

“They both are telepaths and I didn't notice,” Guntram said very sarcastically, feeling very tired, frustrated and willing to kick his friend out. “Is it not getting late for you to walk back to your hotel?”

“Are you throwing me out, asshole?”

“I have to be up very early, like 6 a.m. Federico, I know you're very disappointed with me. I don't know how I would have reacted if you would have told me out of the blue that you wanted to live with a man. Probably, I would be doing the same you're doing now. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I would have never lied to you. I enjoy Constantin's company very much, even if he were just a simple man. He listens to me without judging me. He understands me better than any other person I've met; better than myself. I don't care if this is just an adventure for him. I want to live it and keep the memory for the future. Even if we don't work out as a couple, he has shown me what I truly want to do with my life. Only because of that, he has my eternal gratitude and respect. Do you think I would have lasted long as an accountant or waiter? I would have only lived in bitterness. Seeing all this made me realise that I want to be a part of it.”

“Some old stones and doodles made you throw your life away? To become a rich man's whore?”

“The whore part you can save it, Federico. I'm not expecting that a brute like you can understand this.

Only know that those stones are more valuable to me than any of your tantrums. Good night.” Guntram used a very dry tone of voice, rising from his chair and going for the door.

“Guntram, you're making the biggest mistake of your life!”

“Perhaps, but it's my mistake. I gave a lot of thought to it. If you can't understand it, good-bye. We are so different one from the other that it's impossible we could remain friends for the rest of our lives. Remember that I'll always be for you.”

“This is far from over, Guntram. I can't see you destroying your life like you want to do!” Federico shouted before slamming the door.

The noise attracted Massaiev, still dressed. “Something wrong Guntram? I heard you yelling with each other.”

“Just a disagreement over our chosen lifestyles. We always argue rather loudly. I'm sorry if we disturbed you.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, thank you. I'd better go to bed, now.”

“As you wish, but whatever you need, tell me. I appreciate you.”

“We fought over Constantin. He thinks I'm his whore; that I'm with him because of his money, that he's a Mafia boss, no not him: Ivan Ivanovich is the boss. Can you imagine something so ridiculous? Maybe he's right and this kind of life is not for me. It's not how I pictured my life. I wanted to marry, have children, a regular job,” Guntram said, becoming more and more agitated.

“Stop before you hyperventilate, child. I don't think you're with Mr. Repin because of his money. He's very fortunate to have you. The week you were together in London, you asked not a single thing from him. You gave him everything you have.”

“It's the least I can do for him. He has always been so kind to me. I think I love him.”

“I also think you do. Mr. Repin has never been so happy than with you. I've seen many of his past lovers and he was never so concerned about one like he's about you. He literally kisses the floor you tread on. If some of your friends reject you—and many of them will do it because you have radically changed your life—forget them and look for new ones. You will meet many people with interests more akin to yours in the University.”

“You're probably right. I can't spend the rest of my life pleasing everybody.”

“Only the people who truly care about you, like Mr. Repin,” Mikhail clarified. “Go to bed now. We have to drive tomorrow.”

“Will you let me drive?”

“I survived the Cold War, the war in Algeria, but I'm not sure I can survive this, Guntram.” Mikhail joked with one of his charges for the first time in years.

“It's not that bad.”

“Guntram, you asked me what was that “inverted triangle” painted on the road and believed me when I told you it was a Satanist signal,” he laughed.

“I will not believe any more of your explanations Mikhail Petrovich,” Guntram laughed back, still embarrassed at the memory of how easy he had fell for it. “Or play poker with you.”

January 18th, 2002

Six days ago I arrived to Paris where Boris Malchenko was waiting for me at an incredible flat at the
Place Vendôme. By flat I mean two entire floors transformed into a penthouse overlooking the square. Very chic and
decorated with priceless artworks. It was Constantin's mother's house when she was a child and he spent here the first
nine years of his life. The artworks are amazing, mostly impressionists. The shops around are very chic; Chanel,
Hermés, Cartier, Dior, Guerlain, the Ritz Hotel. The Louvre is very near and I went there three times, mostly to draw
and look in awe. I went to the Tulleries twice and walking around. In a way, I miss Mikhail because he disappeared on
the 13th and Malchenko assigned me another “bodyguard”: Yuri Alexandrevich Rimsky. He was in Buenos Aires too, I
remember him. He's fine but I still don't get why I need to have one around. I have nothing that could remotely interest
anyone. However, he's my shadow and even told me off when I was at the Louvre, copying one of the big Assyrian
Gates and two Japanese Girls stood in front of me, giggling all the time while I was working. I think blue eyes are
rarity for Asiatic people as I've noticed several looking and laughing at me in Rome. I found them cute and I made a
quick sketch of both of them and gave it to them, leaving the place immediately. The Russian went ballistic and
shouted at me in English and Spanish—in case I was not understanding—because I'm not supposed to be “flirting”—

excuse me?—with two tourists. “Do you want to face Mr. Repin's wrath for something so stupid, boy? Don't ever do
that again, and much less in front of Mikhail Petrovich! He will eat your guts alive!”

He ran and told Malchenko. Gossip boy! I was again scolded in the night, during dinner, this time more
elegantly.

“Guntram, your bodyguard has told me about a certain incident in the Louvre. Do you have something
to say about it?”

“It was something very stupid. The girls just stood there for more than forty minutes, giggling and
looking how I was drawing. I just made a simple portrait of them and gave it to them. I didn't speak with them. I left
the room. I didn't mean to be offensive to them.”

“Your actions could lead to a serious misunderstanding. Please refrain from such childish acts in the
future. My cousin does not tolerate any kind of lapses from his lovers. He reacts rather strongly to them.”

“I did nothing wrong!”

“I'm not accusing you, but some ill-disposed people could use your naïveté against you. Constantin is
very traditional and if he has chosen you to be his companion, he expects the best behaviour from you. His temper is
very short, Guntram. Know from now onwards, that he's very jealous. Is he your first serious relationship?”

“We are not in any kind of relationship, Mr. Malchenko, he told me so. He only wants an affair with me.

Boyfriends don't catch his attention for too long, so he prefers that we consider this like a friendship with intimacy.”

“It's true that his boyfriends only last a few months, but he's not treating you like one of them. You were
living in his house in London, he has assigned you Mikhail Petrovich to look after you—he's one of the best men he
has—he lets you speak with us and we're supposed to treat you well and now you're here, under my charge till he
comes for you. It doesn't look like an “intimate friendship” to me. I saw Constantin with you in London, and he treats
you like a mate; not like one of his flings. Therefore, your behaviour should be spotless.”

“I understand,” I answered somewhat pissed off. I didn't do a thing, and here I was almost accused of
starting a threesome with two tourist girls. I'm not Fefo!

“You can have your friends, but always remember to whom you belong to. I'll talk with my cousin over
this.”

“Should I not tell him?”

“Let me do it and remember always this; despite whatever he might have told you, Constantin is very
serious about you. Behave accordingly, Guntram. You would not like to cross my cousin. He can be your worst
nightmare.”

January 21st, 2002

Last night, when I was sleeping, I was awoken by Constantin's hungry kisses. He really took me by
surprise because I wasn't expecting him for another two days. The second he let me breathe—yeah, he can be very
passionate and once he's in your bed, there's no way to get him out—I could only say: “I'm surprised, I missed you
these weeks,” but he didn't hear me, too busy tearing my pyjamas and his own clothes, not even bothering to answer
me. Almost without giving me time to realise it, he had turned me around and was inside of me, riding me fast and
hard. I didn't realise how much I had needed him and—even if it was hurting me—I joined his enthusiasm. He made
me come like an animal. I don't know how sex is for other people, but with him is getting better and better.

I was almost dead after it, panting like crazy as he held me while kissing my neck. “Hey, should I ask
your passport again angel? You're almost out of breath,” he chuckled, proud that he had taken me, driving me mad
with pleasure.

“If I continue to live with you, I don't think I'll reach my thirties,” I laughed, kissing his hands and
rearranging my position for better cuddling. “Also, jumping my bones in the middle of the night, is too much. I
thought I was going to get dinner before.”

“These weeks without you almost drove me crazy. I haven't slept the past two days just to hurry my
business. You're addictive, my angel.”

“Constantin, I'm totally lost with you.”

“Why?”

“You say that we only have a friendship with sex kind of relationship; an open one as you get bored of us
very easily, but yesterday the bodyguard and your cousin Malchenko nearly killed me because they thought I was
fooling around with two girls in the Louvre. They were looking at my work and I made a sketch of them and gave it to
them. Yuri shouted with me all the way back. Your cousin says that you think about me seriously and I should be, you
know, a good boy.”