Frank & Menno

11.

At home, Menno went to his own apartment to change. Frank went up with their groceries, and prepared dinner. Menno took his time. When he finally arrived, it was with a large sports bag full of stuff.

“I’ll stay here for the weekend, right?” he said with a shy pout, as he saw Frank’s surprised expression. “I’ll meet your friends tomorrow. I have to look my best.”



Frank nodded, shrugged, and made a wide, inviting gesture with his hands. “Mi casa es su casa… Oh please Menno… Don’t give me those big, wet eyes. You are welcome, so make yourself at home. You’ve got the keys, for Christ sake. Did you bring a movie, per chance?”



“Yes…” Slightly taken aback, Menno bent down to open his bag. “No porn, if that’s what you… never mind, forget I said that. Look… I just got it in the mail. I ordered it over the internet.” He held up a special box, with one of the latest animated movies.



Frank grinned broadly. “Cool! Unpack your bag, okay? I believe we could do with some distraction, both of us.”



Later, in bed, Frank couldn’t sleep immediately. Menno was lying against him, with his head on his shoulder. He held him close with one arm, idly playing with the blond locks. Menno was sleeping. Frank listened to the regular breaths, and thought about how he felt.

Frankly, he felt great. He simply loved being with Menno, to have dinner together, and to sit on the couch with him the whole evening. It felt natural, in a strange way. It was as if he was complete, now. At the same time, he knew they had to give it more time. They were already spending way too much time together; everybody would tell him to be careful and to slow down. It was just… He didn’t want to slow down.



This was it. He just knew it. Period.



*



It was a beautiful day. The sky was clear, the breeze gentle; a perfect day for a picnic.



The sneakers were silent on the paths. Long legs dressed in fashionable, faded jeans, moved purposefully through the park. In reality, Mihangel had no idea where he should be going. His cousin was in the park somewhere, having a barbecue with his new lover. There was probably a certain spot in the park where barbecues were allowed. An open space, no doubt. Mihangel stopped, and sniffed deeply. He smelled burnt coals…

Following the scent, he arrived at the picnic site not much later. He saw tables, food, people, and a barbecue. It looked friendly and relaxed, but Mihangel stopped near some bushes, half-hidden from view. Menno had asked him to come another day. He wasn’t invited. He was intruding, in a way.

Pulling back his shoulders, Mihangel took courage. He was a celebrity; he could go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Granted, he was no celebrity himself, but he went out with them often enough to catch a bit of their sheen. With elegant strides, he walked towards one of the long tables. “I come here, all the way from Paris, and you tell me to come another time because of a stupid picnic,” he said with a pout.



Menno swirled around. He saw the long, blond hair, tied low in the man’s neck, shining in the sunlight. Two strands were longer, braided, and decorated with feathers at the end. The lean torso was dressed in a tight, silk top, black with gold embroidery. It only had one sleeve.

“Hangel! What… How did you find me?”



“Mihangel,” corrected Mihangel. “And I followed the smell of burnt meat, didn’t I. There’s only one park in this forsaken city, so it wasn’t that difficult.”



“As friendly as ever, aren’t you.” Menno smiled at him, and spread his arms. “Hello, love… How are you doing?”



Mihangel answered the embrace, without enthusiasm, and kissed the air instead of Menno’s cheeks. “I’m extremely busy. How about you? Still working with your hands, I see?”



“Yes, still laboring for my bread. Come. Since you’re here, you might as well meet my special. This is Frank. Frank… Meet my cousin, Mihangel. He didn’t want to listen, and looked me up.”



Frank smiled. “Welcome! My, my… I can see the resemblance! Pleased to meet you, Mihangel.” He offered his hand.



Mihangel shook it. He winched at the pressure, but didn’t comment. His slate eyes –or grey, like Menno’s, but he called them slate—were fixed on Frank’s face, observing him carefully. “Hmm… Menno told me about you. I must say, he didn’t lie.”



“Really…” Frank glanced at Menno, who acted as if he didn’t hear it. “What did he tell you about me?”



Mihangel hummed again, tilting his head. His eyes said more than his face; he was amused, but didn’t want to show it. “Handsome, masculine, virile. Better take good care of my cousin, beautiful; he has been hurt before.”



“Hangel! Please!” Menno slapped his cousin’s shoulder.



“Mihangel,” said the man thoughtlessly. “I’m serious, Frank…”



“I can see you are. Don’t worry, Mihangel; I promise to take good care of him. Can I take your bag?”



“Thank you. So… Who is throwing this party? Should I ask permission to join in the fun?” Mihangel looked around. He was used to parties with strangers. But usually, those strangers were rich, famous, and very keen to be seen. These people were friends, and relaxed amongst each other. No sparkling diamonds and Rolexes here, no Champagne, no red carpet with photographers behind ropes.



“My friend Norm over there,” pointed Frank. “It was his idea, although he said it was mine. Shall I introduce you?” As Mihangel nodded, he called out Norm’s name. The large man immediately walked towards them, leaving the barbecue in the capable hands of another friend.



“Frank! Who’s your friend?”



Mihangel stared at the apron. ‘Kiss the Cook’, it said in bright, red letters. He was about to place a sharp remark, but bit his tongue instead. Slowly, his gaze slid up, over the round belly, to the tanned neck. He saw tufts of soft, dark hair above the white tank top. Norm’s facial hair was shaped in a moustache, a stylish, thin beard and long sideburns. He didn’t shave, that morning. His face was tanned; he had wrinkles, and green eyes.

Gorgeous green eyes. Mihangel stared at them, lost for words for a moment. When he finally found his voice again, he said, “On the lips or on your cheek…?”



“What?” Norm, Frank and Menno laughed surprised. “This is Mihangel, Norm… He’s Menno’s cousin. Is it okay if he joins in, today?”



“Of course… Would you like a hamburger? Come, and make your choice.” Beckoning, Norm walked back to his grill.



Mihangel followed like a sleepwalker. He stared at Norm’s back, looking at the rolling muscles under the thin top and the worn jeans. The legs were cut off, halfway the hairy calves. The man was heavy, hairy, and everything but similar to the people he knew. Mihangel was intrigued. “I would like a salad, to be honest. If you have it.”



“Of course! Menno and Frank made a few green salads. Help yourself. Mihangel, hm? What a beautiful name…” Norm flipped the burgers on the buns, and put them on the plates. “They’re done!” he yelled. “Come and get it!”



“It’s a combination of Michael and angel,” said Mihangel. “You know; Michael the Archangel?” He didn’t look at all the people flocking around Norm. He only saw him. He liked what he saw. “That’s one story,” he continued when everyone had left again. “The other story is about my father, who didn’t know how to spell Michelangelo…”



Norm laughed aloud. “I like that one. What’s with your sleeve? Do you want only one arm tanned…?”



Mihangel glanced at his top. “Actually,” he said, with a shy shrug, “it’s attached with laces, see? I could loosen the other one, but this knot is too tight…”



“Let me see that.” Norm put down his spatula, and wiped his hands on a damp cloth. “Mh, yes. Sit still.” He tugged at the knot, using his nails. He could easily untie it.



“Ahh thank you!” Gratefully, Mihangel pulled the sleeve off. He also loosened the neck of his top. “So much better,” he sighed.



“You should wear a tank top, like me.” The barbecue sizzled as Norm put sausages on the grill. “Your top looks nice, but way too warm.”



“It’s fashionable…”



“It’s summer,” bounced Norm back. “Are you sure you don’t want a sausage? They’re nice and juicy…”



“I’m okay,” smiled Mihangel. “Thank you. If I eat one of those, I’d have to diet for a whole week…” He had to admit they smelled good, though. He liked the way Norm handled them, too. He put some salad on a paper plate, and sat down. “Frank and Menno are a nice couple, aren’t they?”



“Oh yes.” Norm chuckled, flipping his sausages. “Menno is a sweetheart, and Frank is very happy. I never saw him like this. They can’t keep their hands to themselves, see that?” He chuckled again, and shook his head. “I didn’t think I’d live the day, to see my little brother in love.”



“He’s your brother?” Mihangel looked from Norm to Frank, and back. He didn’t have time to take a good look at Frank yet —gee, maybe because he was distracted by the green eyes?— but there was very little resemblance, if any. Norm helped him out of his confusion.



“I call him my little brother,” he explained. “I’m two years older, and I know him for decades. I like to look after him, if you know what I mean.”



“He seems capable enough to look after himself, if you ask me.” Mihangel looked at Frank again, who was cuddling Menno as if they just met at the train station. He sniggered softly. “Although his brains seem melted right now. It’s the same with my cousin, probably. I’m a bit older, and I always wanted to protect him. Especially when he came out. He’s too sweet, you know?”



“Too sweet ain’t good,” nodded Norm. “What do you mean with ‘came out’? Came out of what?”



“The closet.” Norm seemed ignorant. “Out of the closet…? Telling people you’re gay? You know how it went, don’t you?”



“Oh, right! Right…” The sausages were ready. Norm put the aside, to keep them warm. He was done, for now. Taking a plate himself, he sat down next to Mihangel. “Actually, no, I don’t know how it went. I never had to… how did you call it? Come out of the closet.”



“What do you mean?” Mihangel laughed softly, disbelieving. “We all had to come out, at one time or another. How did you do it, then?”



“You’re mistaking. I never had to come out of anything. Closets, wardrobes, drawers… whatever you have; I was never in one. Good sausage. Want to taste?”



Again, Mihangel was too stunned to speak. He stared at Norm, jaw dropped a little. Norm wasn’t gay? A man like him, with such gorgeous eyes, such a marvelous body, and he was straight? Just his luck! “Yes,” he eventually said, quietly. “I would like to taste your sausage.” There was no pun intended. Luckily, Norm didn’t hear it. He offered a bite on his fork, which Mihangel took off with his teeth. Norm was right. It was good meat. “Who taught you to cook like this?”



“Do you call this cooking?” Norm laughed again. He had a pleasant, deep laugh. “It’s a man’s thing. We’re all born with a spatula in our hand. You’re a man; you should know that.”



“I’m no real man, Norm… Did you look at me? I’m nothing like you.”



“You’re no real man?” Norm looked down at Mihangel’s crotch. “No willy?”



Mihangel tried to determine if Norm was joking. He concluded the man was totally honest. He was just a bit naïf. “I have a willy,” he assured him. “No vag, no titties. My body is male, but in my head I’m a bit more feminine.”



“Oh, that.” Norm waved with a hand. “That makes no difference, does it? Do you like sports?”



“Yeah…” At least Norm was no homophobe. Mihangel relaxed a bit. “I do like sports, but in my society, it’s a big no-no. Unless I get to watch it with some famous soccer players, of course,” he added with a shrug.



“Your what? Your society?” Again, Norm laughed. “Where are you from, Mihangel? Tell me more about you…”



“Give me a sausage, and I will tell you everything you want to know, Norm…” He would diet next week. Right now, he just wanted to talk with the friendly giant. “I live in Paris, at the moment, but I’ve lived in New York, London, Milan…” Usually, that was something to brag about, but Mihangel said it without pride this time. Norm was so down to earth; bragging wouldn’t work with him.



“A true globe-trotter, hm? Nice… Which city did you like best?”



“Uhm…” Mihangel gave it some thought. “They all looked the same to me, to be honest… New York and London were a little easier, because of the language. But everybody speaks English, nowadays.”



“They looked the same? I’d say there’s a big difference between Paris and New York, isn’t there? What do you do for a living?”



“I uhm…” Again, Mihangel had to think about what to say. “I entertain,” he then concluded. “You could say I’m a professional best friend. I go to premiers, parties and fashion shows with celebrities.” He wanted to explain some more, but he saw Norm’s face, and the fork hovering in front of the man’s mouth.



“You’re a gigolo?”



“No!” Mihangel blushed abruptly, and looked insulted. “Entertaining is quite hard, with those spoiled celebs, you know…”



“An accessory, then.” Norm wasn’t impressed with the insulted tone. “A pet, like those wee doggies they carry around in bags? I saw photos, once. You’re way too handsome for that, Mihangel…”



The blonde pressed his lips together, looking hard at the naïf man. Norm was completely honest, obviously. And he was right. “Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “I’m a Chihuahua with a diamond collar. Thing is, I can keep those diamonds, Norm… I’m rich, I’m on photos next to the celebs, and I get places… I see you’re not interested at all.”



“I am interested,” assured Norm. “In you, not in those stars, diamonds or what have you. Fame will pass… They’ll ditch you when you get older, and then what?”



Maybe Norm wasn’t as dumb as he looked. Mihangel nodded slowly, and sighed again. “You’re quite right. I’ll be replaced sooner or later, when I get older. But I’ll be rich by then, and I will be able to buy any house I want.”



“But will you be happy? Are you happy now? People need friends, Mihangel. You need a place to crash and to be yourself. You never walk around in sloppy sweatpants or just your shorts? Do you ever eat a pizza behind the telly, or have a beer with a friend, while you watch a game?”



Mihangel shook his head. He never had moments like that, he had to admit. Pizzas were out of the question, he never drank beer, and his clothes were never more casual than jeans and sneakers. He would never wear them outside, though. Even when he had to run errands, he dressed to impress. You never knew who would spot you.



Norm listened to it, obviously pitying him. “How long will you be here?”



“Until Monday. I’ll fly back to Paris late in the afternoon.” Mihangel took a water bottle from the thermos bag. “Why?”



“Good. So you’ll be here tomorrow. Here’s an offer you can’t refuse, Archangel Michael; tomorrow you’ll come to my place, and you’ll dress up in loose, comfortable clothes. We’ll order pizzas, watch a game and a movie, and drink beer. How’s that, hm?”



The sip of water went down the wrong way. Mihangel coughed, turning red in his face. “Why would you want to do that with me?” he said, croaking.



Norm shrugged. “I believe you’re more interesting than you want to appear. I bet you have stories to share, and I still don’t know anything about you. Frank has Menno, and he’s occupied all the time; I’d like some company. Do you need more reasons?”



“You’re quite clear, so no, it’s fine. I don’t know where you live, though.” Mihangel pushed one foot hard on the other, to keep his heart from jumping. Spending an evening with that gorgeous bear… maybe luck was at his side after all.



“Mm yes. You don’t know where I live. Frank could tell you, but…” Norm glanced at his friend, who was still cuddling Menno. “His mouth is busy. Say, why don’t you just stay here today, and relax, and come home with me afterwards?”



“Do you know how tempting that is?”



“I told you it was an offer you wouldn’t be able to refuse.” Norm nodded pleased. “That’s settled, then. Nice. I’m looking forward to it. Would you like a beer?”



“Uhm… Sure, why not. I’ve sinned already; I might just as well go all the way.”



Norm handed him a cold bottle. “If it’s worth doing, Mihangel, it’s worth overdoing. And you don’t need a diet. Alright?”



“Okay, Norm…” Smiling, Mihangel leaned back in the hard chair, crossing his ankles.



Norm walked back to his grill to put some steaks on the fire. “Oh, and by the way…” he started casually.



“Hm?”



“On the lips is fine.”



Mihangel almost dropped his bottle, and Norm laughed softly.