Homebird

by Amy Lane

  “Luka! Wir brauchen Sie hier!” A stout young woman with hands full of steins passed by, nodding toward a giant table of rowdy young men, and he grimaced.

  “And that is my cue!”

  He took off into what was looking to be a busy night. Crispin could wait for him, though, knowing they would have the dark after the beer tents together.

  Link, predictably, made friends with the other people at the table—Munich natives—who rather mockingly asked them if they had any idea why there was even an Oktoberfest. Crispin took great pleasure in reciting the story of Ludwig and Therese to them, and they cheered and bought the next round.

  “What?” Crispin asked, sipping his energy drink while his friends looked at him in appreciation.

  “Just well done,” Link said, raising his stein.

  “Yeah, Crispin—keep reading pamphlets!” Cam urged, raising his stein in the air as well. Nick and Ray followed suit, and their subdued but enthusiastic toast of “To Crispin!” made him grin and bow his head regally.

  “It’s good to know things,” he said, biting his lip.

  They laughed and drank with good cheer, and then Cam set down his stein. “Hey, Crispin—could you watch our beers? I hate to ask, but there’s that tower thing outside—the ride? And Nick and Ray really want to go on it—”

  “You total liar,” Ray accused. “You want to go on it too!”

  “Anyway, we all want to go on it, but I know you’re not a fan. The line’s not that long right now—you can see through the door.”

  “Go,” Crispin told them, laughing. “But maybe leave your hats too—they weren’t cheap!”

  “Ooh, good idea!” Cam answered, and in a moment he was sitting alone with four half-full steins and four traditional Bavarian caps, little red feathers sitting perkily.

  Luka swung by, hands full of steins, and laughed. “Did they all just disappear into thin air? Reached their beer limit and evaporated?”

  Crispin shook his head. “No—out doing that tower drop thingy.”

  Luka frowned. “One minute.”

  He made it to a table across the room, gave out his beer, collected his money, and returned.

  “You didn’t go with them?”

  “Do I look like a carnival ride kind of guy?”

  “But they are fun!” Luka laughed. “The Devil’s Wheel I understand. Throwing up isn’t fun at all—but this, this is fun!”

  Crispin shrugged. “I just never—”

  “Well, when they come back, I’ll take my ten. We will go together.”

  “Luka! Wir brauchen Sie hier!” This time it was a handsome young man, and Luka showed a rare moment of exasperation.

  “It may be at the end of the night,” he said, “but we will ride that tower.” And then he was gone.

  The guys came wandering in about fifteen minutes later, flushed and laughing and excited.

  “Oh my God—Crispin—that was amazing!”

  “You’ve got to try it—here, we’ll watch your stuff!”

  “I’ll go again!”

  “Yeah, Cam’ll go with you—it wasn’t even scary!”

  Crispin laughed over the banter and shrugged. “Luka said he’d take me later,” he confessed. “I’m not sure Cam wants to hold my hand like that.”

  Cam sighed dramatically. “Presumptions, presumptions. Fine—I could have come back from Germany a changed man, but no, wait for your dream guy.”

  “Thank you, I will,” Crispin said primly, and the laughter that followed warmed him.

  About an hour later, Luka came by with food, and after collecting their cash—freely given because his choices were, as always, excellent—he grabbed Crispin by the shoulder.

  “And now, I hope you will save your friend some—he’ll be back shortly.”

  Crispin barely remembered to take off his hat and leave it by his plate.

  Luka practically ran out of the tent, and Crispin followed him, laughing. “Are you going to get in trouble?” he asked, wondering if all this attention to Crispin wouldn’t hurt him in some way.

  “No! I just wanted you to myself for my break!” He pulled them through the crowd—and to Crispin’s consternation, past the line of people waiting for the tower. They drew abreast of the ride operator, a weathered man with a tired smile who suddenly lit up as they neared, and Luka addressed him just as the latest batch of revelers at the top shrieked as they plummeted down.

  “Ach, Heinz, wie geht’s?”

  “Luka! Es geht mir gut—ist das dein Freund?”

  Luka smiled shyly. “Ja—ist er nicht süß?”

  “Ja, er sieht nett aus—viel Spaß!” And with that Heinz opened the gate for them just as the suspended seats touched lightly down to the landing platform. The restraints over their shoulders popped open, and laughing breathlessly, the survivors of the carnival ride exited, talking in everything from English to German to French and more, probably about how frightened they’d been and how awesome the ride was and how they couldn’t wait to come back and do it again.

  “Vielen dank, Heinz!” Luka called, and before Crispin could object, Luka dragged him into the enclosure, pulling him to one of the banks of four seats. “Put your straps on,” he advised cheerfully. They will come and check, but I know you will worry if you don’t do it yourself.”

  Crispin smiled, trying to be brave. “I’m not really good at these,” he said, wishing he could find a way to back out.

  “Ja—I mean yes, I know. It will scare you but will make you laugh too. That’s why it’s so marvelous.”

  Crispin just stared at him until Luka gestured to the iron bar with his chin. “Now pull it down, yes?”

  “Why are you so brave?” Crispin wailed wretchedly, pulling the bar over his head until it wrapped securely around his shoulders and chest.

  “What is the worst that can happen?” Luka asked, the frantic merriment easing from his eyes. “I can become a bird overhead? I am not worried. Are you?”

  At that moment the ride adjusted and the seat pushed up under their bottoms. Slowly, with the whine of mechanized pulleys, the circle of seats began to hoist its burden of cheerful bodies with legs swinging under them up in the air.

  “Yes,” Crispin whispered to himself while squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t want to lose my nest.”

  “Look around!” Luka called. “You can see all of Munich lit up for the festival as we go up!”

  Crispin forced his eyes open and gasped.

  Much of Munich was a modern city, with streetlights and night businesses still lit up for the partygoers. Even so, the strings of lights that decorated the thoroughfares made a lovely dancing counterpart to the more rural outskirts.

  It was beautiful, and a brisk breeze whipped their hair and bore away the shrieks of delighted fear from the rest of the riders.

  For a moment it was just Crispin, on top of the world, and wonder.

  Whoop!

  Like that, the world dropped out from under them as the circle seat banks fell ten feet and Whump! as the machinery of the tower caught them and lifted them up again and Whoop! as they dropped again.

  Halfway down Crispin met Luka’s eyes as they dropped one more time and realized he was laughing so hard his cheeks were stretching. By the time the seats drifted to rest on the platform, he could barely catch his breath.

  Their safety bars popped open and Crispin hopped off the chair—and right into Luka’s arms.

  Time stopped, and he was left in the whirl and blur of Oktoberfest, warm and safe in Luka’s arms.

  “Good?” Luka asked, unaccountably serious.

  “Glorious!” Crispin gasped, and just when he thought he’d die if Luka wouldn’t, Luka kissed him, hard, voraciously, there on the platform. Joy, excitement, beauty….

  Peace.

  It all flooded him with the kiss and never left, even after Luka pulled away and walked him back to the tent.

  Crispin practically floated back to the table.

  When he got there, Link was i
n the middle of exchanging pictures with the group at the end of the table.

  “Here he is!” Link called. “Crispin, c’mere—we need you in the pic!”

  Cam tucked Crispin’s hat on his head, and the next thing he knew he was in the middle of his rowdy group of friends, arms around each other, grinning for the camera.

  Luka ran by, stacked with steins once again, and called, “I want one of those!” as he went, and as they sat down—Crispin to schnitzel and sausage, since he hadn’t eaten yet—Cam said, “So, are you going to send it to him?”

  Crispin felt the buzz in his pocket which meant Link had sent the pictures. “I sort of need to get his phone number first.”

  Cam tilted his head. “You don’t have his phone number?” The corners of his mouth were crimping, and Crispin suddenly realized how that might sound after the way they’d found him that morning.

  “Does that make me slutty?”

  Cam burst out laughing. “Sure, Crispin—you’re a slut. I’ll tell the guys—they’ll update your resume at work for you and you can ask for a promotion.”

  Crispin grinned, that sense of joy and delight and peace leftover from the ride—and the kiss afterward—not abating in the least.

  “Excellent. I’m Klosky’s newest slut.”

  Nick heard the tail end of the conversation and looked at him twice. “I’m sorry—did I miss something?”

  Crispin and Cam burst out laughing.

  That curious sense of freedom buzzed under Crispin’s breastbone for the rest of the night.

  “SO, WHERE should we meet tomorrow?” Link asked, checking his phone. They were standing in front of the beer tents, waiting for Luka as the carnival wound down behind them.

  “Well, if you give us a time, we can meet you at the hotel,” Crispin told him. “I’ll….” He groaned, putting his hand over his face. “God… I’ll have to walk through the streets again wearing lederhosen. I can’t believe I didn’t bring a change of clothes.”

  “Some slut you are,” Nick muttered, and Crispin smirked.

  “The shopping district is pretty close to Luka’s place anyway,” Cam said. “How about we bring Crispin’s carry-on to Luka’s in the morning and we can spend all day together tomorrow, and that way Crispin can meet us at the airport.”

  Ray looked at Crispin curiously. “You are going to meet us at the airport, right?”

  Crispin gaped at him, and then his stomach dropped. That had been the plan, right? Three days with Luka and then home.

  For a moment—a wild moment—he entertained not returning home to the little house that had kept him safe when no human had been able to. He had to fight off nausea.

  No. He could wander—he knew that now. He could go a thousand other places in the world, but he was always going to have to return.

  “It’s the only way I can get back to my cat,” he returned, and at that moment, Luka came out of the beer tents and his smile got a little stronger.

  “So, boys—we have a plan?”

  “Yeah.” Link shifted and looked at the guys. “We’re going to be by your place with Crispin’s suitcase tomorrow—”

  “What time tomorrow?” Crispin asked, and Luka’s grim chuckle told him they were thinking the same thing.

  Nick yawned. “Twelve. Oh God, Link, twelve. It’s one in the morning and I’m done.”

  Link rolled his eyes. “Fine—I’ll get up early and scope out stores and take a run, and I’ll have the rest of these losers to Luka’s place by twelve.”

  The chorus of “Thank you Jesus!” and “Hallelujah!” and “Holy fucking fuckballs, yes!” made Luka laugh harder and Link’s disgust amp up a notch.

  “If you people would only do the training—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Ray yawned. “Next time I promise we’ll train for our vacation. Tonight let’s get some sleep and let these guys go home to… not getting sleep.”

  Crispin’s laugh came with its own yawn. “There might be a little sleep,” he conceded. “Thanks, guys. See you tomorrow.”

  They parted, and Luka threw a warm arm around his shoulders as they walked back down the quiet streets.

  “You looked sad,” Luka said softly. “When I came out. You looked sad.”

  Crispin grunted. How did he say that for a whole heartbeat he’d thought about leaving his house, his cat, his sister and brother-in-law, and their shared-custody dog just so he could wander the world with the man at his side?

  And the thought had made him want to cry, because he didn’t think he had the strength to love anyone, even Luka, if he didn’t have the security under his feet.

  “Have you ever thought of settling down?” he asked instead. “What are you doing when Oktoberfest ends?”

  “Mm….” Luka guided him to cross an empty street, the sounds of the dwindling carnival almost completely faded from hearing. “This year I have a ticket and visa for Aurangabad—there is a swami who has agreed to study with me. I have not yet learned the principles of Hinduism—I’m very excited.”

  Crispin’s eyes bulged. “Oh my God.”

  “You dislike Hinduism?” Luka asked, sounding confused.

  “No, not at all. That’s just… so much more… I dunno… important than the rest of my life.”

  Luka made that hmming sound in his throat again. “To be fair, I’ve been waiting for this opportunity for three years. Often I’m just off to visit friends I’ve made in the past. Many people come to Munich, you understand, and then they go off to their homes and offer to have me there.”

  There was a sly lilt to his voice, as though he was inviting Crispin to ask him something.

  “Would you have come to my house after Oktoberfest?” he asked, heart thundering in his throat.

  “Yes,” Luka said simply. “If you let me have your phone for a moment, I may still. Winter holidays are coming—it’s always so much more pleasant to spend them with people you know.”

  Crispin preened, and then he heard the hidden note, the bass chord, in the thing Luka had just said.

  “Have you spent them alone many times?”

  “Mm.” Luka sighed. “A few. It’s been ten years, you know. There can’t be a party every year.”

  Crispin frowned. “But there can be,” he said, confused. “I… my life isn’t a thrillfest, but I’ve literally had someone in my life for the holidays since I was five. Even if it was just my little sister.”

  “Yes, but you make wiser choices than I do,” Luka said, as though that were a given. “Come—cross the street.”

  “That’s because I’m a coward!” Crispin laughed, keeping up with him just to keep that warm arm about his shoulders. “It’s easy to keep your feet on the ground when you’re afraid to jump!”

  Luka snorted. “If you were a coward, you wouldn’t have come with me that first night. You wouldn’t have learned new things to be with your friends. You wouldn’t have come to Germany at all. You’re very brave.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not spending my life trying to learn a whole other religion,” Crispin muttered, and then wondered what his religion actually was. Perhaps this weekend had made him pagan, living to resurrect the Green Man every spring in hopes of having Luka pop into his life again.

  “Five years ago….” Luka sighed, coming to a halt in front of his building. “Right after university. Five years ago, things were….” He dropped his arm around Crispin’s shoulders and leaned back against the doorway. “I’d… I’d gotten attached, you see. A woman. I showed up to her home, because I’d been invited, and she… she was with her husband. And I realized… it had been pretend for her. The invitation. The time together.” He shrugged, as though Crispin couldn’t hear his heart throbbing in his voice. “I… I don’t want to talk about who I was then. There was a lot of drinking.” He took a deep breath, as though to steel his courage. “Many, many drugs. I had just gotten the job here, at the beer tents, and I almost lost it. Oskar—you have not seen him, he works in the kitchen—he took me home one night and… and sur
prise! No sex. He threw me in a cold shower, and when I was done swearing, he sat me down. He told me to find… you know. Purpose.”

  Crispin stared at him, appalled that Luka—his Luka—could have been so lost. So frightened.

  So sad.

  “So you found religion?” he asked, and like he hoped it would, Luka’s generous mouth quirked up at the corner.

  “Studying religions,” he said, lifting a shoulder. “Not so much one. Just many.” For the first time, he looked self-conscious. “This is not a thing that will ever make me money,” he said apologetically.

  Crispin laughed and reached out to cup his cheek, needing the touch. “You were just a baby,” he realized. “I was… I was the same age when my foster parents died and Grayson left. And it felt like… like the end of the world.”

  Luka leaned into his hand, closing his eyes. “One can’t afford to be so stupid, though, when there is nobody with the job of caring for him. I was lucky Oskar was a good man—it could have ended very differently.”

  Crispin shuddered and pulled him close. “I’m so glad it didn’t.”

  Luka’s mouth on his was darker somehow, more serious. As though speaking of painful things stripped away the skin and let their blood mingle as well as their breath.

  The kiss built slowly but powerfully, and again, and more. Luka’s cool hands spanning Crispin’s middle made him gasp, and Luka pulled him closer, kneading Crispin’s ass through the thin leather of the shorts.

  “Ah….”

  Crispin’s knees trembled, and he had a vision of dropping to the ground and pulling Luka’s cock into his mouth.

  He would do that, he realized. Crispin, who dressed in the bathroom when he shared a hotel with his friends, would drop to his knees in a public doorway.

  The thought made him moan, and Luka pulled back.

  “The apartment,” he said with an effort. “Mein Gott, Crispin, what it is you do to me.”

  They clattered up the stairs and down the hallway, tumbling into the apartment with bare civility paid to Ludwig, who greeted them with vocal disapproval.

  “I need you badly,” Luka whispered into his ear before nipping the lobe and removing his glasses. “Bend over the couch and drop your pants for me.”