by Andrew Grey
Together, they wandered through a few more galleries until Gerald felt Dieter stop in his tracks. Turning, Gerald saw it: The Woman in Blue, or Portrait of Anna as it was properly called, the face hauntingly beautiful. In real life, the blue looked like one of those mythical colors that legend says existed but was lost to time. The canvas shimmered as they moved farther into the gallery. Gerald stayed behind, watching as Dieter moved closer, his gaze never wandering from his great-grandmother's portrait. The other people in the room turned to look as Dieter slowly moved closer, stopping just a few feet away. Gerald was surprised, after having seen the large-format landscapes, that the portrait wasn't particularly big, but the impact of the image was monumental. At least it felt that way to Gerald, like the woman was looking off the canvas and into his soul. He suddenly knew why it was so important, because if a painting's worth was in its ability to move the viewer, then this was worth more than any work of art Gerald had ever seen.
Dieter hadn't moved, and Gerald saw a woman look at Dieter, then at the painting and back at Dieter once again. Seeing the portrait in person, Gerald realized that Dieter had his great-grandmother's eyes and facial structure. He looked like her in some ways, and the woman in the gallery had seen that as well. “Young man,” the woman was saying as Gerald approached. “I can't help noticing that you look like her.” The woman continued to look from Dieter to the painting.
"Thank you, but I'm not as pretty as she was,” Dieter said lightly, and the middle-aged woman smiled.
"I think you're prettier,” she said. “Would it be all right if I take your picture next to her?"
"Okay,” Dieter said, and he stood near the painting as the woman snapped a picture.
"You couldn't be related, could you?"
Dieter's gaze flashed to Gerald, and he felt himself shaking his head lightly. “I don't believe so,” Dieter lied before stepping away from the painting, and the woman thanked him before moving out of the gallery. Gerald joined Dieter, and they looked at the portrait together. A few times Gerald thought he might have heard Dieter say something, but he couldn't make out what it was, and he figured he'd allow Dieter his privacy.
"Are you ready to go?” Gerald asked, and Dieter nodded his head slightly. Leaving the gallery, Gerald expected Dieter to turn for one last look, but he didn't, he simply led the way through the museum. At the exit, Gerald retrieved his case and they stepped out into the sunshine. “Are you okay?"
"Yes,” Dieter answered. “I told her who I was and what I was trying to do. I didn't get an answer, of course, but I told both her and Gram.” Dieter rushed ahead and stopped walking when they reached the corner of the wide boulevard that ran next to the museum. Turning back to him, Dieter grabbed him and hugged him tight.
It took Gerald a few seconds before he realized Dieter was crying. Soothing him as best he could, Gerald rubbed Dieter's back softly. “It's going to be okay,” Gerald kept saying, looking around, wondering how he could get Dieter back to the room.
A taxi pulled closer and Gerald signaled. Once the car stopped, Gerald ushered them both inside and gave the driver the name of the hotel. The driver looked over his shoulder when he saw Gerald holding Dieter, but he said nothing, and Gerald wasn't in the mood to offer any sort of explanation.
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Chapter Seven
The ride wasn't too long, and by the time they reached the hotel, Dieter had gotten hold of himself, and they exited the taxi. Gerald paid the driver, and they went inside and right up to their room. “Do you want to lie down for a while?"
"No,” Dieter answered, “I want to look over those papers so we can see what we've got."
"Dieter, that can wait a few minutes,” Gerald said as lightly as he could, concerned about Dieter.
"I'm okay. I let myself get worked up when I was looking at my great-grandmother's portrait, and when that woman wanted to take my picture. I should have declined, but I didn't see how it could hurt.” Dieter sighed loudly. “I feel like a bit of a fool, actually.” Dieter pulled a tissue out of his pocket, wiping his eyes before blowing his nose and throwing the tissue in the trash.
"There's no need. You're allowed to feel however you want. I found the portrait incredibly moving, so I can't imagine what you must have felt,” Gerald said, hoping Dieter would talk about it.
"I guess I hadn't expected to be as moved as I was,” Dieter explained, motioning to Gerald's case. Unlocking it, Gerald pulled out their copies and handed them to Dieter. “We should organize these so you know what they are. Do you have any Post-it Notes?"
Gerald found some in the bag and handed them to Dieter.
"Let's number each document, and then you can make a list describing each document, referencing each one by its number.” Dieter started writing numbers on the Post-its, attaching one to each page. Gerald booted up his laptop and opened a file. “Document number one is the list of Meinauer art works,” Dieter dictated, and Gerald typed as fast as he could.
"I think I can make out most of that document,” Gerald said, and Dieter set it aside, moving to the next.
"Two, three, four, and five are the detailed descriptions of the Meinauer works. Number six is the letter from Anna to Joseph.” Dieter picked up the next document, setting it aside. “I won't bother numbering the documents we copied to maintain our cover,” Dieter explained, setting aside a few copies. “Now, let's see. These are the documents we copied right at the end. Number seven appears to be a document detailing the condition of the Portrait of Anna in 1965.” Dieter continued through the documents, none of them of any use other than as background material. “Number thirty-nine is a letter from"—Dieter stopped talking, and the room became quiet as he read the document—"what appears to be someone from the Ministry of Culture.” Dieter kept reading silently while Gerald typed, occasionally glancing at him. “I'm not sure who he was, but do you have Internet access? Maybe we can find out."
Gerald did indeed have Internet access and he opened a browser window. “What's the name?"
"Georg Mitterval,” Dieter said, spelling the first and last names.
Gerald searched and turned the laptop so Dieter could see it. “I don't see what I'm looking for. Can I try?” Dieter asked, and Gerald moved back as Dieter typed and searched. “That looks better. I added the official name of the ministry, and it looks like we found him.” Dieter opened the page and began to read. “It appears he was a lawyer in the fifties and he was employed by the ministry.” Dieter picked up the letter. “Yes. He was employed by the ministry from 1957 to 1964, and he wrote the letter in 1960.” Dieter went back to the letter. “There's a lot of legal stuff here I don't really understand.” Dieter's words began to run together as he spoke, his energy level spiking, and Gerald felt his own pulse begin to race. “I believe it says that he doubts the Belvedere's claims to ownership of a list of paintings—” Dieter stopped, and Gerald watched him scan the document. “Holy crap!"
"What is it?” Gerald asked, automatically trying to see, even though he didn't understand a thing.
"You'll need to get this translated properly by someone who knows the legal terminology, but as near as I can tell, it lists a number of works of art, including the five Pirktls, and says that he doubts that the museum's claims of ownership will hold up to serious scrutiny, and in this part of the document"—Dieter pointed to the section—"he also says that the Ministry of Culture should attempt to locate remaining family members and return the paintings to their rightful owners."
"Hot damn,” Gerald called, jumping to his feet, “this is fantastic.” Gerald grabbed Dieter, twirling him around as the paper fluttered to the floor.
"I don't understand,” Dieter said, but Gerald cut him off with a fierce kiss. When they came up for air, both of them breathing heavily, Gerald met Dieter's eyes and gasped as Dieter pounced on him, sending him backward onto the bed. Dieter's energy felt like a live wire, and Gerald could not get enough. Usually, Dieter's kisses were soft and tender, but today th
ey were hard and filled with a passion and excitement that blew Gerald away.
Gerald let Dieter have his way as Dieter's body vibrated with uncontrolled energy on top of him. Gerald's shirt was practically torn from his body as Dieter attacked his skin, licking and sucking so hard Gerald had no doubt he'd have marks all over. Not that it mattered in the least. He'd handle a few marks, because Dieter this excited had his dick throbbing in his pants.
"Lie on the bed,” Dieter said, and for a second, Gerald wondered what had happened to the lover who never forgot his manners. “I think it's time to celebrate,” Dieter said as Gerald repositioned himself on the bed, and Dieter opened his belt and pants before tugging them away. Then he pounced again, and Gerald did his best to get Dieter's shirt off.
Gerald hissed softly when Dieter roughly clamped his lips around a nipple, sucking and even using his teeth. It was almost too much. Cupping Dieter's head in his hands, Gerald brought their lips together in a searing kiss that left him breathless. As soon as their lips parted, Dieter practically jumped off the bed, tearing off his remaining clothes before nearly attacking Gerald again. There was no gentleness like there had been the previous times they'd made love. This time Dieter was all excitement and need. Whatever was driving him, Gerald knew he had to let it play out. Dieter needed to get it out of his system, and Gerald was determined to go along for the delicious ride.
"Dieter,” Gerald said softly to get his attention, but then words and thought failed him as Dieter took him deep. Over the past few weeks, Dieter had honed his oral skills and was quickly turning into a master. “I love your mouth,” Gerald whimpered softly as Dieter, sweet, well-mannered Dieter, attacked him with a ferocity Gerald had never seen in him before, with anything, and damn if it wasn't the hottest thing Gerald could ever remember.
"I love your dick,” Dieter responded, and Gerald widened his eyes. Dieter had never shown the slightest interest in dirty talk before. Gerald hadn't done it at all because he wasn't sure how Dieter would feel about it, and here was this man with a nearly angelic face and body talking dirty to him. Gerald groaned as his cock throbbed in Dieter's mouth just before Dieter's lips slipped away. “Was that bad?” Dieter asked sheepishly.
"Fuck no,” Gerald answered, and Dieter grinned as he slid his lips down Gerald's shaft. He'd unleashed a monster, a hot, sexy little monster, and there was no way Gerald was going to complain in the least. Especially when he was surrounded by the hottest wet heat he could ever imagine. Gerald tried not to thrust, but he couldn't help himself, Dieter was driving him wild, and his body screamed down the fast lane to a climax. Dieter must have sensed it somehow because he backed away, and Gerald groaned loudly before opening his eyes, peering down at a suddenly tentative lover. “What is it? What do you want?"
"I'm not sure how to ask,” Dieter replied. “I want you to... to....” Dieter swallowed. “Fuck me,” he whispered. Now that was the Dieter he knew. The man wanted everything, but saying the words was the difficult part.
"Okay,” Gerald said softly even as his body went into excitement overdrive, and he had to take a deep breath before restraining himself as he got off the bed to get the supplies from his kit. “Lie on your belly,” Gerald said softly when he returned, and after climbing on the bed, Gerald set the supplies on the table before stroking lightly over Dieter's back. Dieter twitched and muscles bunched with excitement beneath Gerald's hands. “You need to relax or it'll hurt, and that's the last thing I want. Let me soothe you. Breathe deeply and evenly,” Gerald said as evenly as he could, trying not to let his own anxiousness show through.
Gerald kissed his way down Dieter's back, trailing his hands as he used both to try to calm Dieter, but it didn't seem to be working—with every touch, Dieter became more of a live wire, and Gerald decided to use that excitement. Kissing and licking his way lower, Gerald caressed Dieter's butt cheeks and heard a soft rumble from Dieter's chest. Parting the milky-white cheeks, Gerald licked along Dieter's cleft and got a surprised gasp from Dieter that continued when he blew on his wet skin. “What are you doing?” Dieter asked, as he propped himself up on his elbows, looking over his shoulder at Gerald.
"Getting you ready for me,” Gerald answered with a sly smile before flicking the skin of Dieter's opening with the tip of his tongue. Dieter whined softly, pushing back, and Gerald let him, swirling his tongue around the puckered skin before teasing the opening. “You need to relax, sweetheart,” Gerald said, before deciding the only way that was going to happen was if Gerald made it happen. So he rested some of his weight on Dieter's legs to hold him in place, thrusting his tongue deep and hard into Dieter's body. Dieter tried to thrust back again, wanting more, but Gerald held him in place, working the muscle until the tension slipped away and the muscle finally relaxed. Then the mewling and moaning started. Gerald knew when the realization of the pleasure hit Dieter, because he gasped softly, flopping onto the bed, fists gripping the bedding, and Gerald probed deep within his lover. Adding a single finger, Gerald slowly worked it into his lover's body, listening for any signs of discomfort. There were none, only soft moans and ripples that seemed to run through Dieter's muscles like a wave through water.
Crooking his finger, Gerald searched for just a few seconds until he found just what he was looking for. “Jesus!” Dieter cried as his entire body jerked.
"Like that?” Gerald asked, already knowing the answer as he rubbed the spot, feeling Dieter vibrate as he worked a second finger into Dieter's body. The heat and pressure were incredible, and Gerald found it hard to catch his breath as Dieter whimpered and moaned beneath him.
"Please, Gerry,” Dieter begged, and Gerald continued getting Dieter ready, taking it slowly, not willing to hurt him in any way.
"Get on your hands and knees, sweetheart,” Gerald said, massaging the spot inside to encourage Dieter to do what he wanted.
"Want to see you,” Dieter gasped, and Gerald let his fingers slip out of Dieter's body, helping him roll over and placing a pillow under his hips.
"Give me a minute, okay?” Gerald said after giving Dieter a kiss and reaching to the supplies on the table. Tearing open a condom packet, which wasn't easy with slick, shaky fingers, Gerald managed to get the package open and the condom rolled onto himself before squeezing some slick onto his fingers. Coating both himself and Dieter's crease, Gerald locked eyes with Dieter, and as carefully as he could, pressed his cock to his lover's opening.
At first, Dieter's body resisted, and Gerald, afraid to push too hard, nearly backed away, but then he felt Dieter's resistance fade and his body opened, letting him inside a tight heat that nearly took Gerald's breath away. Deeper, hotter, Gerald slowly entered his lover's body, joining with him, Dieter's expression a mask of surprised bliss: mouth open, eyes huge, their initial joining almost a surprise to both of them. Sinking further, Gerald reached the bottom, fully buried in his lover. Stopping, he waited, watching Dieter's face as he gave him time to adjust to all the new sensations. “Are you okay?” Gerald asked between his heaving breaths.
"Yes,” Dieter said through clenched teeth. “I feel so full."
"I know. Just relax a little and breathe steadily. Let everything relax a little,” Gerald explained as his body tried to rebel against his own advice because it wanted to pound into Dieter, claiming him for his own. Gerald's eyes widened at the thought. He'd never felt possessiveness like that before, but right now, with Dieter's blue eyes locked onto his, their bodies joined, each and every of his lover's heartbeats echoed through Dieter's body and into his.
Pulling out slowly, Gerald heard Dieter groan through the entire motion. Then he pressed forward again, sliding back into Dieter's furnace-like heat to the accompaniment of a low, deep moan.
"Do that again,” Dieter told him, and Gerald complied, moving very deliberately. The speed was driving him insane, and carefully he picked up the pace, his strokes still deep and long. Repositioning Dieter's legs so Dieter's heels rested on his shoulders, Gerald felt some of the tension leave Diete
r's body, and he picked up the pace of his movements even further as he watched Dieter's head roll back and forth on the pillow, a steady stream of moans coming from deep in his chest.
Gerald loved that Dieter seemed to be getting more vocal during their lovemaking, and he decided to try to see just how vocal he could get. Stroking deep, Gerald stopped, his cock throbbing and jumping inside his lover. “Gerry!” Dieter whined.
"Gonna love you so good,” Gerald said as he ran his hands along Dieter's legs. “I want you to tell me what you like.” Gerald pulled almost all the way out of Dieter's body before driving back inside and holding.
"Yeah, that. I like that!” Dieter cried, and Gerald did it again, a thrill zipping up his spine. “Oh God!"
Dieter's cries and moans only fueled their mutual desire, and soon Gerald drove deep into Dieter's body, his own cries joining those of his lover, all control gone as instinct and passion seemed to take over, driving them both to ever higher and higher planes of ecstasy. Gerald saw Dieter stroke himself, and he felt his lover's body tighten around him as Dieter nearly screamed, shooting ropy lines onto his own hand and chest, with Gerald following right behind him, barreling through his own release.
All tension left Dieter's body as he lay beneath Gerald, covered in sweat, breathing like he'd run a marathon. “Is it always like that?"
"I think it is when you love the other person, yes,” Gerald answered without thinking, and then realized just what he'd said. Yes, he knew he was developing feelings for Dieter, and he had known for some time, but he'd been hesitant to vocalize them. He'd spoken the truth now, and he wasn't about to take it back or try to explain it away.
