And how I want this. Want him. Us, this life, with every up and down. Family life, evenings together in front of the TV and longingly waiting for the sound of a key turning in the lock. Of course, I couldn't put my joy into words. What could I have said? Alexander is eloquent and regularly makes my eyes water. So much I could retort, but decided against it. I kissed him stormily, let my tongue melt into his and even though we had only known each other for such a short time, it felt a little like a proposal.

He didn't let up and on New Year's Eve he made me promise to show him my flat. Unadorned, not tidy and smelly. I am so embarrassed and I can hardly stand his reaction. I stand in the middle of this hole and watch my boyfriend curiously inspecting every nook and cranny. Nervously I knead my hands, my knuckles crack and Alexander gives me a warning look. He doesn't like me torturing my joints like this and I cross my arms apologetically in front of my chest. His gaze continues to wander through the small room, which is barely as big as his bathroom. He stands in the wet room for a long time, his expression frozen. He reveals nothing about his thoughts and I feel all the more ashamed of the poor conditions in which I live.

Again, the thought of the beggarly Indonesian boy who ensnares rich older gentlemen in order to have a better life comes to the surface. Like poison it settles in my veins and even though I know that Alexander loves me and I love him and our getting to know each other is not based on money and a comfortable life, a last bit of self-doubt remains. I was serious when I asked after our sex how it could be that he loves me, of all people. Me. I have nothing to offer him, work every spare minute to support my parents and study tirelessly, spending hours of my life in the lecture hall or the in-house library. I read textbooks and biographies, illustrated books and everything I can get my hands on about the current topic.

This scholarship is a huge opportunity. It's my only chance to leave behind a life full of hardship and fear in Indonesia. And I don't want to miss out on this chance. I need a well-paying job at the end of the semester to have a leg up in business and convince the US government that I am a financially independent member of their elite society.

New Year's Eve. The end of a year and the beginning of something new. For the last two years I spent this day working and at a late hour I gathered in Times Square, listening to the voices around me which in various shades fell into the chant of rhythmic counting. Lower and lower the numbers fell and higher and higher the great silvery orb rose, lighting up the night and representing, as always, a new beginning. All the colours of the rainbow were reflected in the sparkling plates and I stared at this beauty for minutes. I only knew this sight from pictures and to experience it myself, to hear the many voices, to see the lights and to be a part of it, made me infinitely happy. The past year changed my life and the way I look at things.

Alexander came into my life so unexpectedly on a cold snowy December day that it still seems surreal. Christmas belonged to family. His wonderful loving family who welcomed me into their midst without hesitation, without hesitation and made me feel at home from the very beginning. My home is Alexander and the new life with him in New York. But my home is and always will be Indonesia. Deeply rooted in the fibres of my body, interwoven in my heart and a part of my self, will always remain the poor Indonesian boy with a hidden life. It is the experiences of our childhood that shape us. A life can still be so dull and dreary, full of dark demons and lots of pain. The adult self looks back on this time differently. Strengthened and yet alert. Not all of us are able to leave the shadows of our past behind. And to be honest, it will never quite happen, no matter how strong and brave we are. The experiences, decisions and deeds belong to us, like a second half, and each individual has to decide how much of his or her past should influence the future.

My decision was made. The day in Central Park when Alexander kissed me under the mistletoe, the velvety red bow blowing gently in the wind and the snowflakes trickling softly on his night-black hair. I never wanted anything else, his lips became my drug and after the first time I was addicted to the taste of Alexander and every morning I wake up with a feeling of longing. Only after a long intimate kiss is my longing satisfied and I can start the day. Every morning since Christmas Eve I wake up at my boyfriend's side, greedy for my dose of Alexander and finding it hard to describe the excited pulsing inside me.

We spent the end of the old year in cosy togetherness, snuggled close on the sofa, a cup of hot cocoa with little motley marshmallows on top and a thick dollop of whipped cream for Alexander, in our hands. We watched a film in ancient black and white images. Two men, beautiful and dangerous, their lives full of suffering and pain. Repressed feelings and the eternal search for being. I felt uncomfortable with the father's argument with his eldest son, the heir to the family business. He was to marry a woman he did not love and was still a child. He, the hero of the story, lost his footing and made a decision that affected both lives, his and his beloved partner's, to such an extent that a happy ending seemed a distant prospect. And so it was.

This is how the director described a tragic love story, two men who kissed, two men who loved each other and yet were unable to live a life together. The world they lived in was dangerous and paved with old traditions. They died, together, at each other's hands and as painful as it was, you could feel the love they had for each other and I cried thick tears. Alexander's shirt absorbed my pain, his strong arms lay protectively around my quivering body and his lips caressed mine as the hero confessed his love and affection to his lover one last time.

Not the shiny silver orb in Times Square, but countless rockets, golden sparks, bursting pyrotechnics in red, blue and green, flares, bubbling volcanoes and metre-high fountains. Firecrackers crackled in the streets, dogs barked and grown men became children again. It was fascinating to watch. Freezing, armed with a thick scarf up to my nose, a matching woollen hat and disgustingly fluffy warm gloves, I took on this challenge. My friend also fell into the strangeness of the night. An empty champagne bottle, the contents of which warmed our stomachs and got the blood flowing so wonderfully warm, served as a launching pad for rockets. Thousands of lights illuminated the night, Alexander's hair was bathed in the different colours with each explosion. The gold of the shower of sparks suited him perfectly and as if I had guessed what splendour and glory was in store for me, I grabbed my camera before setting off to join the cheering crowds and captured these unforgettable moments.

A little boy no older than six asked me to hold his glow sticks. Sparklers, he explained, and I stared spellbound at the sizzling stars, hundreds of sparks bursting and looking beautiful. A large mound of snow lay next to the tree with the gnarled branches at the entrance to Alexander's street. I helped the boy align all the remaining star throwers in the mountain of snow and together we lit a stunning shower of stars. The shutter of my camera clicked incessantly and only when the last candle burned down and only the smell of burnt powder hung in the air, I felt Alexander standing close behind me. Very lightly his hand was on my back and the gentle pressure signalled to me that he was there. A breathy kiss on my cheek, reddened from the cold of the first day of the year, and I gently let my body fall against Alexander's. I trusted that he would stand behind me and catch me. He did not disappoint me, caught me and put his long arms around my freezing body. Together we looked up at the sky, saw beacons and listened to the good intentions of those celebrating around us.

"What do you wish for the new year?" asked Alexander.
"Um... I don't know. A good grade in my project work and a job to stay with you?", I answered.
"Is that a question? You must have some resolution or desire. Something you believe in very strongly and the universe can fulfil it for you," he said chuckling and gently kissed my lips. Again I lost myself in that kiss, as I often do and as I wouldn't have it any other way.
"You then. I wish for you," I replied after half an eternity that we had indulged in the softness of kisses amidst glowing rockets, surrounded by snow and roaring people.
"You've had me for a long time. Since the first moment in Central Park. When you weren't aware of me yet, but I had already fallen for you."

He could not have made a more beautiful declaration of love to me. With watery eyes and a loving smile, I swallowed the thick lump in my throat.
"I love you Magnus. Happy New Year," Alexander began.
"And no matter what else comes, it will be the best year and the next even better and the one after that..."
"You talk too much," I interrupted the torrent of sweet words from his mouth. Instead, I kissed him passionately and didn't care who was watching us. Here, on the streets of New York, I didn't have to be afraid and I could openly show my love for my boyfriend. That would never have been possible in my home country.

"Pack your things. Now," Alexander's voice thunders loudly through my filthy flat, abruptly bringing me back from that beautiful memory and down to earth. His lips pressed together into a thin line and his eyes glittering angrily. He is clearly not pleased and somehow I can understand it. Surely he didn't expect me to live like the Queen of England, with sumptuous carpets on the floor and gold-trimmed inlays on the walls. Instead, we are standing on an old rotten floorboard. A loud creaking sound escapes with every step, two floorboards in front of the kitchenette are loose and nails protrude very far from the old wood. An eldorado for injuries and the rust is the beginning of a wonderful infection. The walls used to be white. At least I assume so. But I can't say for sure. Grey dominates the room, with scattered black patches. In the bathroom, the tap drips incessantly and hot showers are only possible on days with an E.

"And then? Where do I sleep? At the bum's on 6th floor, in that cardboard shack he's built for himself? Or at your place?" I ask, slightly annoyed. What are you doing here?
"At my place," he answers seriously. I think I've misheard him. His place? Really? So far we've only spent a few nights together.
"I won't let you stay here any longer. Have you looked around? How can you see it? You "ve lived here for what? Two years? The mould is creeping out of all the joints in the bathroom and the rest of this flat isn "t any better. Oh, flat. It's not a flat. It's a hole. It's disgusting. How have you lived here so long? Do you often get headaches?" he asks accusingly and in a much louder voice than normal.
"Why?", I ask, confused. My tone is also anything but friendly. Disparagingly.
"Because headaches are symptoms triggered by mould in the flat. Respiratory problems, allergic reactions, asthma, bronchitis. Scratchy throat, hoarseness, cough. Abdominal pain, nausea, digestive problems. The classics and immediately visible to any medical practitioner who enters this hole." Alexander listed the various things on his fingers and I follow the game with a furrowed brow.

"No. Maybe. What's normal? I have no idea. Things have changed since I've lived here. I never had problems with colds. And all of a sudden I have a sore throat," I honestly reflect. A slight resentment still resonates in my voice. Does he just decide that we live together now? I don't want to spend another second in this shithole. But I would have liked to talk about it beforehand and clarify a few details. How do we do it with the rent, I don't earn much and my parents are grateful for every extra rupiah. Who will provide the groceries? Do we do it together, do we have a household budget? Does everyone pay for what they need? I have no idea about such things, I am just able to look after my own well-being. What do I do if Alexander gets fed up with me? Then all I have left is 6th Street and a cardboard house.

"What you're worried about," he says, chuckling. All anger has gone, leaving behind a head-shaking laughing Alexander.
"You were thinking out loud," he answers my unspoken question. Oh.
"Oh," I say softly.
"That was just... I don't know. Are we fighting right now? But then why are you laughing?"
"We're not arguing. We're discussing. Look Magnus. I want you to be well. And here, in this shithole, you are clearly not fine. You can't be fine here at all," he says emphatically, making a dissolute hand gesture around the small flat.
"I often have headaches. And I sneeze a lot in the morning. It started a few months ago," I reply honestly and Alexander nods.
"Okay. I've already written to Raphael and he's on his way here. We took care of that quickly. He's lending us the van from the restaurant he uses for the groceries and also his muscle power. We'll talk about the finances at home. We have time, Magnus. But you can't stay here any longer. I won't let you. Not as your friend. And not as your doctor either."

"You're not my personal doctor, Dr Alexander," I say, biting my lower lip in mock embarrassment. On the one hand to tease him a little, on the other to suppress the tears that are welling up. Home. He said home. The way it sounds coming out of his mouth. Indescribable.
"Hmmm. We'll sort that out at home too, Mr Bane," he replies with a cheeky grin, catapulting me back into an unforgettable night.
"Thank you Alexander."
"For what?" he asks.
"For saving me. Again." My hero in shining armour. He truly is. Like something out of a fairy tale or little girl's dream. In my case, it was a poor Indonesian boy who dreamed that the prince came on a snow-white horse with a thick flowing mane and took him to his castle. Without doubt, without hate. Two kings united forever.
"Always babe. And tomorrow, join me in the emergency room." No backtalk. That's what his facial expression says, and the pitch of Alexander's voice says it too.
"Will you introduce me to your colleagues?", I ask excitedly. I don't think I'm ready for this.
"Yes and no. I want to get you checked out. This is no small thing Magnus. Mould infestation can have serious consequences." And there he is. The medical man and I smirk at his concern.

"It's all good. The headache thing isn't so bad. I'm much more worried that my landlord will insist on a proper termination. And then I still get to pay for the flat, even though I haven't lived here for a long time."
"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it. If I have to, I'll threaten the health and building authorities. Let's see if this guy still wants money from you then. The whole house is in a miserable condition. Unbelievable," he says shaking his head. That's how I reacted the first time I stood in these four walls. But what choice did I have? A cardboard house or this. So the decision was clear.
"And you accompany me to the hospital. We'll do some tests. Maybe you have a mould allergy. That would fit with the sneezing fits and the headaches. I'll get a blood test and another provocation test. You can do that nasally. So don't worry, I'm not going to put you on my operating table and cut you open."

"Our kids won't have a quiet minute. Every time they have a little cough, you're going to drag them to the ER and have them thoroughly checked out. Oh God, I don't even want to imagine how you'll react if the little one falls while riding a bike and skins his or her knees," I say laughing. But Alexander doesn't laugh.
"Children?" he asks incredulously.
"Us? You and me?"
"Yeees," I reply, slightly confused. Is he crying?
"You want kids? I thought... you said on our first date that you didn't want kids."
"Right. In Indonesia together with a woman. I always ruled that out. Do you want kids?", I ask cautiously and the sadness leaves Alexander's face. Radiantly happy, eyes shining with moisture and a stormy tight hug that drives all the air out of my lungs.
"And how. I always wanted kids. But I couldn't imagine it with my last boyfriend. With you I could, Magnus," he replies, his frantic warm breath hitting the skin on the back of my neck. Instantly a fine layer of goose bumps covers my body and I snuggle closer to my boyfriend's broad strong chest. His heart flutters excitedly in his chest, pressing longingly towards mine.
"All in good time," I say timidly.
"All in good time," he replies.

A kiss so tender and life-affirming. Gentle tingling and a teasing tongue. Alexander drives me crazy. Again. And again it's his kisses on my neck and throat, soft moans and knowing fingers over my vertebrae that send electrifying tickles and warm adrenaline through my veins and quivering body.
"Let's finally pack your things," Alexander says, his lips only millimetres from mine. And yet it feels like they are light years apart. I'm hard and demanding, I reach into Alexander's hair, let my fingers slide through the soft strands and engage us in a promising French kiss. We both moan with pleasure as my erection meets his and with circular movements we give the pressure some room.
"Magnus," Alexander whispers. His eyelids flutter, but my thoughts know only one destination. Abruptly, I release my lips from the sweet sin, lower myself to my knees and immediately feel a large hand on my cheek. My desire takes over and I am only too happy to let happen what I have dreamed of for so long. So far I have not had the pleasure of tasting Alexander.

One last look up into his tense face, slight uncertainty seeping through the crack behind which my doubts and inexperience gently rest. Alexander's jaw muscles stand out clearly. Carefully, the tips of his fingers caress my skin. Gently, a thumb strokes my lips, gentle pressure on my lower lip and chin. I open my mouth willingly, Alexander's trousers too, and the excited glint in those blue storm-soaked eyes draws me under his spell. He is a beautiful man and his penis, which stands stiff and hard in front of me, is just to kneel down. Purple veins, the sign of his arousal and a good one. I have no idea what to do. It's my first blowjob, I only know this from porn, when the men let their tongues dance around the heated flesh and elicit sweet sounds from their play partner. I want that with Alexander too. Since our meeting in Central Park he has dominated my thoughts, he is partner and lover, the man with whom I want to experience everything.

"Magnus..."
"No. I want this. For so long," I stop Alexander. Any more words would sabotage what I want. I want this. I want him. Completely and without compromise. Alexander is experienced and I, the shy boy from Jakarta's ghetto, kneel in front of him and look at my boyfriend's penis with a beating heart and a lot of adrenaline in my veins. Suddenly I feel hot, slightly dizzy and before I start to sway, Alexander supports my body. Gently, light pressure on my shoulder and nervously I look at the soft skin around the hard swollen muscle.
"Just the way you're kneeling here. Fuck that really turns me on," Alexander murmurs. Desiringly, groping, my tongue explores the pink tip. The flesh is soft, tender and the small crack releases a salty drop which excitedly hits my taste buds. I taste it, masculine, tangy, salty, just pure Alexander. My head is spinning, the dizziness intensifies as Alexander moans softly and my lips slide tenderly over his penis.

"Slow down Magnus," he directs my movements. It's unfamiliar, new and so fucking exciting. My tongue wets his penis, curling around the pulsing muscle and with each thrust of his hips into my mouth, his penis penetrates deeper into my throat. Gagging, I claw my fingers into his ass, feeling the taut muscles and the twitching signals that he likes what we're doing. My eyes water, saliva runs from the corner of my mouth and I feel ashamed of it. So much so that I gasp and release Alexander's cock from my mouth and gasp for air. With my eyes closed, I remain in this submissive position, the hard old wooden floor pressing painfully into my kneecaps. Every movement, even if it is only millimetres, leaves a sharp pain.

Alexander's hand soothingly strokes my cheek, the other glides through my hair. Fingertips part strands, eliciting a comforting sigh, and my lover's next words are the spark that ignites the fire and my passion.
"I'm totally into you, in this position. I want to fuck your mouth."
"Shut up," I bring out, gasping. This is too much. He's too much. His words and the bobbing penis right in front of my lips, the glistening wet glans, seductive with the taste of lust and wanting more. So much more and I'm hard alone from his words and the realisation that it's me that's driving him out of his mind.
"I'm not forcing you. I never would," he replies.
"I want you to," I reply briskly and place a light kiss on the right pelvic bone, between the line to the junction of the thigh, following the path of his soft taut skin over hard muscle. My lips caress the base of his penis and the light skin covered with light dark fuzz above.

"And how I want that," I breathe. My breath hits his lower belly in a tingle, the arousal of his skin stretching towards my lips. I feel it, most especially through my closed eyelids. Trusting that my senses are not deceiving me and that Alexander is paying attention to me. Not as if out of his mind and surrendered to the urge painfully fucks my mouth without restraint. Alexander playfully moves his pelvis, lets the tip of his penis slide over my chin and down my throat. Hot and pulsing, I feel him and his hand in my hair. Guiding, knowing, demanding. I give him what he desires and in return he leads me on this journey and I could sink into the sight of him. The parted lips and the soft gasp, murmured words barely understandable.

"Open your mouth Magnus," he says. He doesn't have to ask long, giving himself to him gives me everything I desire. With glazed eyes he watches lips part, a naughty tongue circle the dripping glans and heat flutter over the swollen muscle. I find a rhythm, close my eyes and focus my thoughts on steady breathing. Alexander is aroused, panting and moaning, guiding my head just slightly with his hand in my hair.
"Fuck, just like that." Alexander's voice trembles with arousal, my tongue spoils the glans and I have to open my eyes. Can't resist the urge to look at him as I do so. The sight of my boyfriend's beautiful relaxed expression. He has his head slightly back in his neck, enjoying my touch and I take a step further. It's exciting and beautiful, immensely erotic to see him like this. Caught up in the pleasure and the uncontrolled twitching of his penis as my lips press firmly against him. I take him in deeply, forgetting to breathe as the tip bumps against my throat and Alexander moans. Claws his hand firmly into my hair and I forget everything around me. Shattering glass, the sound of a window breaking, loud voices and the dull trampling of heavy boots. But I block it out, hear only Alexander and his words again, feel the strength in his loins and I am so aroused. It's hard for me to concentrate. Not forgetting to breathe and keep the rhythm, tongue and lips in unison, suppressing the gagging and taking everything from Alexander.

"Yes babe, you're doing good," he says with a moan. My body quivers with desire and the feeling of the pressure in my throat every time his swollen tip thrusts dripping against it. I taste Alexander and moan in agony.
"Take off your jumper," he says suddenly and moves away from me. I look tensely at his hand which lies firmly around the penis and rubs in long intimate movements over the hard shaft. I reach for the hem, the warming wool leaves my body and Alexander reverently strokes my quivering chest.
"I'm so lucky," he whispers, the last syllables drowning in guttural moans. Quickly and relentlessly he pumps his penis and in long spurts he comes, hot and moaning loudly. His sperm hits my chest and neck, but the last drops land on my tongue, which stretches out towards him unbidden. Alexander looks at me with a transfigured gaze and absolute satisfaction. My tongue licks over the little bit of cum that sticks to my lips. Fascinated, he watches my every action while his clothes leave their place in no time. With a firm grip on my upper arms, Alexander brings me back into an upright position and then everything happens very quickly.

He pushes me powerfully against the rough wood of the flat door and, surprised, I seek a hold on Alexander's strong shoulders. There is a soft click, the sound of a door springing into the lock. Startled, I open my eyes, Alexander licking across my throat, his warm tongue on my skin feeling so good. Electrifying shivers run over my skin and the realisation I just had that the door was ajar and everyone could hear him and especially see us both, flies by as quickly as it came. Tender sucking on my larynx, deep vibrating humming from Alexander's lips gently brushing over my chest and throat. Licking the cum from my heated body and together with the right pressure and determined strength, splitting my lips. I taste Alexander and moan, feeling the warmth of his tongue and the tickling desire to take all of him. Today it's him, pure. Simply Alexander. The tip of his nose nudges tenderly against mine as he ends our kiss in protest. They make me weak, his kisses. And he knows that very well.

With trembling legs and a throbbing hard penis, he leaves me here to undo the belt in my jeans immediately afterwards. The rough, heavy fabric leaves my hips in a jerk and Alexander gives me a moment full of ecstasy and desire. Just the sight of him on his knees with his sinful lips right in front of my penis almost makes me explode. Reverently, his fingertips stroke the muscles of my lower belly, slide under the waistband of my shorts and before I can speak his name, I'm standing naked and dripping penis in front of him. It doesn't take long for Alexander's tongue to play around my glans, his lips caress my shaft and the alternation between taking it deep and sucking it gently is the beginning of a flood that is impossible to stop. All thinking stops, I hear Alexander murmur and me moan. Muffled, far away, as if there were a dimension between me and my soul. I have never felt so free and detached. I have arrived, in my life. With Alexander and a violent orgasm I never dared to hope for. Everything is spinning, my legs are shaking uncontrollably and if Alexander didn't support my quivering body by my hips, I would simply collapse. It is so violent and intense, the tingling in my loins which spreads almost painfully and all the hormones in my veins mix together. Become a cocktail of lust and desire, the craving for complete release.

"I am so lucky," he repeats his words before our lips meet once more. Alexander and Magnus united, the past behind us and the future shining just ahead. All I have to do is reach out my hand. Not much, just a little and it begins. What began on a cold December day, with a caressing kiss under the green-leaved mistletoe and snow in night-black hair, does not end here and now. No, it begins.

"The pressures on gay teenagers can be overwhelming - keeping secrets, telling lies, denying who you are, trying to be who you're not. Remember: you are special and worth being cared for, loved and accepted for who you are. Never let anyone convince you otherwise." - Source unknown

☃️🎄🌟The End☃️🎄🌟

A big thank you goes out to all the people who accompanied Magnus and Alec on their journey through the winter wonderland. It was a feast as always and I end this book with a smile on my face.