Andy picked up a newspaper from the coffee-table carefully and set his glasses on his nose straight. There was a two-years'-ago picture of Dave on the centerfold. Dave tragically buried his face in his hands, he was sitting there so sad with his touchingly thin arms, decorating the fresh sensation article about his decision to leave the band or so it seemed. The article was full of harrowing details about his life as a sheer misery in Depeche Mode. Fletch was reading with a thrill the tragic novel of the absence of common understanding inside the band, he almost cried deeply touched by Dave's mourning that they're like strangers to each other, not even friends, colleagues, gathered together only by the common business. He bit his finger while he was reading about Dave's creative personality, who was suffering surrounded by such an unfriendly atmosphere.
Dave in tandem with a journalist had a beastly fling at Mr. Gore a couple of times, starting from lambent jests about his appearance and doubts about his sexuality, and ending up with his exceptionally asocial temper. Fletch considered it unnecessary to read the vivid description of himself, he'd rolled up the newspaper thoughtfully and carefully put it back to the coffee-table. Martin, who was sitting near him on rather torn up by his dog couch, didn't even move during all that time.
- Did you read it? - Fletch asked Martin, though it was obvious.
- Yeah, - Martin answered, without any doubt that Fletch had understood it anyway.
Andy moved closer to Martin, placing his hand on Martin's shoulder. Martin didn't move.
- Did you call him? - Andy wondered.
- No, - Martin answered.
- Call now, - Andy said.
- Why?
- Because of that shit! - Andy said and pointed to a newspaper.
- Dave is a big boy and he's allowed to do everything he considers necessary, - Martin said too insensitive to believe in his sincerity, - Whereas we like it or not.
- He didn't consider any fucking thing, - Andy said, - if you refuse to call, then I will. I don't owe anything to this fucking bugger.
- Andy… - Martin said with reproach.
- Call him! - There was steel in Andy's voice.
- I-I can't, - Martin said hardly audible.
Andy stood up, pushing the table away with his leg, and headed to the phone. He dialed a number, caught a cable with the other hand and placed the phone before Martin, waiting until Dave would pick up the receiver. Martin had made an attempt to stand up, but Andy jabbed him back on a couch rudely.
- Yeah? - Dave said. Andy put a receiver to Martin's ear, at the same time holding a phone aside to avoid some incidents and pressing Martin's legs next to the couch by his, for him not to run away.
Martin had opened his mouth, but then shut it.
- Hello? I can`t hear you. Hello, - Dave repeated, - Speak.
Andy's eyes were like diamond drills.
- Hello, - Dave was going to hang up, when Martin mumbled hardly audible, but obviously enough loudly for Dave to hear.
- W-what for? - Martin asked, it seemed that it was too hard for him.
Without any warning Dave burst into a shower of abuse with such explicit expressions, that Andy could swear he'd learned so many new, interesting and even surprising words and combinations. Some of them amazed him not only with its literal and artistic beauty but with their utterly deep meaning, some of them had made reasons of Dave's sudden hysterical departure more clear, and some of them, it should be said, tangled even more.
Martin had suddenly pulled the phone out of Andy's hands and crashed it upon the wall with unexpected might.
- Mart… - Andy stepped back from the table carefully.
Martin didn't lift his eyes up. He seemed not to contemplate at all, his face had blushed and he could hardly breathe that second. Andy stepped back just in case, and Martin, slammed the door, flew downstairs at the yard.
C'mon and lay with me,
C'mon and lie to me,
Tell me you love me
Say I'm the only one.* 'Lie to me' by Martin L. Gore
It was cold and not a star could be seen through the heavy black clouds. Tears were rolling from Martin's eyes, but hardly from hate or anger. They were just rolling. Martin headed for Unter-den-Linden moving by the side streets, wrapping in his sweater his teeth was chattering from the cold.
He remembered, he was standing in the corridor, in some hotel during this stupid tour, he didn't even remember where, but he remembered inhospitable coldness of the wall under his back. Dave approached. Just came closer and put his hand between Martin's legs. Taking away his ability to breath with the warmth of his hand. Taking him down into the exciting rhythm of his up and down movements. It seemed a lot cynical from the point that Dave didn't feel any embarrassment from his acting and didn't try to add even a little piece of tenderness to this caress, because as he had said:
- Hell yeah…, I'm already fucking hard as a fucking wood.
But he didn't lose control, he was just caressing him. Caressing. More and more. Martin opened his mouth, trying to catch some air like a trapped fish. But he couldn't. Dave's mouth crushed his mouth in a moment, not letting him breathe at all, but filling his body with tickling velvet warmth. They were kissing intensely and deeply, savoring the taste of that kiss, desperately gripping each other. Martin jerked his jeans belt off, Dave squatted down and words became useless again.
Dave was stroking Martin's hips, tightly in his jeans. Martin undid his zipper. Dave kissed his hand, when Martin grasped his own cock to give it to him. Dave took him into his mouth without any delay, scorching them both with dizzy waves of the hot excitement. He began to rub his own hard on through his pants, unable to bear the tension, increasing with every contact between his swollen lips and Martin's hard instrument. Dave grasped Martin's cock with his free hand adding more stimulation to his caresses. He pressed it against mate's belly, slowly licked underside from the base to the shaped head, and down again. He removed his mouth and moved his head back to admire his progress in this tender task.
Hardly breathing Martin gripped Dave's hair, moving his head back to where he thought it better should be, making Dave to suck him, harder, fucked his mouth as deep as he need, finally filling Dave's mouth with a milky fluid, so well-known because of the content of a genetic material in it.
Martin pushed a can with his boot, scaring a rat that was dining comfortably near the rubbish heap. He was shaking but not from the cold. What was making him mad about Dave is that he was sure that he could tell him everything that he thinking about and even what he didn't thinking. Oh, but how he can say! He could say in such way that everybody gets sick to hear. Dave never been a person who thinks much how it needs to be said, but his natural born talent was to say something in such way, that his every word could make you crazy and cut you like a knife. He could let him down so Martin could loose his senses from the raging fury. It would be better to stay away from him, never hear his voice again. Martin knew that he could make him to loose control. He wanted him to loose control. Martin knew already what it feels like. He knew how it happens usually. He knew Dave was making him stop thinking, stop hearing, stop seeing a human being in front of himself; he made him just desiring to squeeze Dave's head and push it into the brick wall hard, only to manage this cunt to shut the fuck up. The more blood and brains would stay at the rough wall - the better he will feel. He was afraid of his own thoughts, trying to come back to his senses; he was trying not to listen to Dave, reminding himself that it's only words. Only words. Dave hardly could do anything bad to him.
When it happens, Martin seemed freaky to the people around. He didn't lift up his eyes at all, he was searching for the words, he was talking some rubbish with words like, I think, probably, maybe, very slowly and with visible difficulty. Guys in the band always laughed at him because of that. Only Fletch didn't laugh, because Fletch knew him really good. He always tried to appear somewhere near, at his side just in case if anything happens he could prevent homicidal attempt or something.
However later he recalled the other things.
Dave near him. Dave's lips on him. Dave's eyes, they were shining, they were burning, Martin couldn't believe that this light destined to him. They radiated warmth and devotion as if Dave looked at the only miracle he believed. They confided in him with the infidel rapture, sacrificing himself in holy fire to his only god. His happy smile, when he heard Martin's moans of admiration, caused by his caresses. And Martin knew that he will be down on his knees in front of him again, for no reason, just wanting to this miracle repeat again. Again and again. Begging for more and desiring that it should belong to him only. Forgetting about his self-esteem and pride.
Burning down and incinerate every time when he seen this light and warmth in Dave addressed to one another. It was huge part of Dave's charismatic personality, that's for sure, he could look at you and there was true love in his eyes. He can look at people with pure admiration and trust, no one could stand this mix and not to fall in love with him only for that look. Martin never cherished an illusion that in his case this light meant anything special, but he was gracious to Dave that he let him to believe from time to time.
He saw him making love with his new girl, and she was crazy from her black-haired baby boy. Dave drowned in the process as always, and his girl didn't let him down at that point, she made him groan under her caresses. No it doesn't mean that Martin didn't know. But there is a Universe between meanings of the words to Know and to See.
Next time Dave was sitting on the bed in Martin's hotel room, he just removed his show make up and joyfully telling some scabrous details about his other encounter. He shagged his fan and her curly friend, so they were squealing with pleasure. First half of an hour Martin was listening him gloomily, showing no reaction, although Dave didn't ask him to react somehow.
- And so it goes, I am fucking her, doggy style and she's just moving her ass towards, and licking her friend's pussy, she lying underneath with her legs spread wide, - Dave giggled, - Ya know, chicks making a lesbian show just for me while I am fucking them up their asses. Hell, yeah…, Mart I'll tell you - that is the fucking reason to become a star. Shit If I was a philosopher I'd said THAT is the reason why MALE should work down the drain like a fucking squirrel in a squirrel cage. Ya know…In those moments you understand that all your damn attempts to prove that you mean something here in the Earth weren't in vain. See what I mean?
Martin looked at him crookedly.
- Uhm….in general….yes.
- Thank you, my friend, - Dave suddenly was filled with tenderness for him, - If not you - I'd never reached it.
- You are welcome, - Martin said with a weird voice. Dave looked at him suspicious.
- Oh, c'mon… whassup, man?
- It's ok, - said Martin, - I'm fine. You know, just perfect.
- Hey, chuck, what's wrong with ya?
- Can`t you lie to me? Huh? - said Martin.
- What for? - Dave looked at him with wide eyed astonishment.
- Dunno, - said Martin, - or just say nothing.
- You are jealous, aren't ya? - Dave laughed smugly, when he finally got a clue.
- Fuck off, - said Martin harshly.
- Forget it Mart, - Dave tapped his shoulder - An old friend is better then two girlfriends…you know.
Martin grinned.
- Feel yourself like a wife whose husband cheated on her? - Dave laughed loudly.
Martin looked at him frowningly.
- I'll show you who is the wife here, - he was surprisingly irritated, and his unexpected rage was something that made Dave feel some interest for. He really couldn't expect that Martin would take his loony stories so seriously.
He stretched on the bed; his eyes were burning with interest.
- Show me, - he said.
- I'll show you, - Martin climbed in to the bed with his boots on.
- C'mon baby, - Dave giggled, - show me something that I haven't seen before. O-OUCH!!!
Martin turned him on his stomach, roughly, so Dave hardly could catch a head of the bed with his hand.
- Hey, careful, you there,... it is what are you are knocking down…it's breakable…ya know it's fucking fragile…. it's alive yet, huh?
- Shut up, - hissed Martin through his clenched teeth, clutching Dave's hair and pulling his head back. Dave froze, he wondered if his trust in Martin was excessive or not. He thought that it was some fear inside him now.
- Oh…shit, - he whispered. Martin pulled his head harder and silenced him with his hand on his mouth. Dave moaned indignantly, trying to break loose and not to break his neck at the same time. Martin held him very smartly; he pressed his body down to the bed, and held his head in a dead grip, it was impossible to move without any risk to Dave's health. Martin fucking knew what he was doing. Dave managed to bite Martin's hand which silenced him. Martin punched him, but it caused him to free his grip a little, so Dave was released a little, but soon Martin won back his advantage. They crashed to the floor as a result.
Dave yelled indignantly:
- You will break my neck, you bitch! - He stood on his knees, when he was put into the floor with his nose literally. He desperately felt his pants slid down his hips.
- Hey! That was fucking all done with tender love prelude, huh? - He asked understanding that somehow in their idiotic fight he got extremely turned on, he stop breathing when Martin's hand slowly and soothingly touched his balls.
- As you wish my little girl…
- Martin!
- Don't talk to me like this, - Martin slapped him lightly on his ass.
- Martin! MARTIN! MA-ARTIN!!! - Obviously he wasn't kidding this time because Dave butt started to burn from this tender love prelude.
He almost felt the tears in his eyes from shame when he felt Martin fingering him. He thought he better fuck him rough without all those sophisticated experiments, that made him feel himself like a slut. But at the same time Dave felt the other thoughts flooding his mind, for example the thought that Martin could screw him with something bigger. But Martin continued his movements obviously to make Dave beg.
And soon he was begging. He can`t help it, he was drowning because of all this adrenaline that flooded him before has turned into pure passion essence. Martin complied with his request too soon; he made him yell from pain and physical discomfort that was caused by his invasion. He didn't care about Dave's feelings as a matter of principle, it made Dave mad and excited at the same time. Soon he got used to Martin in him, he was moaning now from rapture that was burning inside him, higher and higher with every motion. He started to move towards Martin desiring to intensify this sensation, he stopped analyze what was going on and how it would be better for him.
***
Actually, that time, in Fletch`s room the grass let them down pretty bad.
Alan probably was overcharged or just bored, but he wasn't confused by Dave's and Fletch`s presence, he started to woo Martin, he expected that naturally born gentleman's respect wouldn't let Martin resist him. Martin tried to turn it into a joke and Andy tried too. He even tried to kiss him. Alan didn't object but he continued to crawl to Martin like a young persistent caterpillar. When their lips joined with a deep sweet kiss Andy understood that it was enough jokes for today.
Dave was sitting in his wife's London flat now. He was staring at his telephone and remembering all the things that happened that day. He recalled Fletch who went out from this room, cursing to himself, he recalled Andy was urging him to go to the bar and drink some whiskey. Dave was telling him about this bastard in the bureau. When Andy tried to make Dave to stand up from the floor and pushed him to the door to let him go out with him, Dave started to bite him and kick him and told him that he was gonna call the F.B.I right now because Andy reminded him of some evil maniac. Andy became furious he told Dave that he fucked himself inside out, watching for those two stupid infantile dorks, taking him for granted. Dave told him that he was wrong. Well, better to say…Dave believed that he told THAT, but Andy hit him and gone without any reason.
When Dave returned to the room where Alan and Martin were, he thought that he has a hallucination. He wasn't prepared to catch them in the middle of their weird erotic games. No, he wasn't prepared at all. Bounded Martin underneath infatuated by the process Alan. Dave was deeply impressed, he even crawled to touch those bastards but they didn't see him at all they were too busy and to fucked up with the hash to see him so he jumped up and ran away.
Then, he wrote this letter to Martin, he didn't know what he wrote him, he just thought that he should tell him what he was thinking about his behavior and personality and all that, leave this letter on the receptions took his passport and money and just left.
***
Andy bent his head under the lamp, he was holding in his hands the broken telephone frame, when it rang suddenly.
- Martin, - said Dave.
- I am Andrew, - said Andy.
- Andrew, - said Dave perplexingly and put down the receiver.
Andy plastered up the frame when phone rang again.
- Andy, I want to talk to Martin, - said Dave.
- He`s not home, - said Andy and put down the receiver.
Dave called again.
- Where is he?
- Out.
- Where?
- No idea, - said Andy and broke their talk once again, virtually he wasn't so eager to talk to Dave.
With the next call Dave became insolent.
- Andy, what was that, phone hasn't been working for so long?
- Dave we are not married yet, - answered Andy.
- It's Martin's phone! - Dave's voice was trembling, - What happened?
- Nothing, sugar, - Andy said, - Everything's alright. Everything's fine, sweetheart. We are fine. We are waiting for you, and missing you. We love you, honey. How's the weather in London now?
- WHAT THE FUCK IS THE WEATHER? - Dave broke up into screams. Breathed out. Sobbed. Blew his nose loudly, - I need Ma-a-art, - childishly he whimpered.
Dave's emotions didn't impress Andy much. He slowly finished repairing Martin's telephone, carefully examined his work and exhaled with visible satisfaction. Then he answered Dave with Inquisitor's voice.
- We've read your opus, Mister Gahan, - Dave tried to say something but yet useless, Andy continued - I was going to bloody fuck you up your ass for that shit but you was a smart bugger and vanished to London before.
- I couldn't stay…can you hear me?! I JUST COULDN`T!
- Why's that?
- Fuck you Andy! It's none of your business. It's between me and Mart. You'd better tell me where he is and that'd be all that I need from you now.
- No, fuck YOU, Dave, - said Andy graciously - And you can go fuck yourself, maybe there you will find your information bureau.
- What the bloody hell are you doing there in his house if ya don't give a shit where he is? - Dave was screaming at him now.
- Why the bloody hell you managed him to go?
- You are lying! You know where he is, you just don't want to tell me.
- I am not lying, - Fletch wiped clean his glasses with his t-shirt, - Why should I lie? Let him walk around there. It's eight o` clock, and he`s a big boy already.
Dave was wheezing into the receiver for rather long time.
- Fletch, I am sorry.
- It doesn't matter, Dave, - said Andy.
- Andy…I can`t stand it anymore. I can`t.
- I know, - said Andy.
- He betrayed me, Andy, I never thought he would. Like…that…he… Please tell me, because I need to know. Is he with Alan now? Is Alan there?
- It's Martin's and his wife's apartments, - said Andy, - Her name is Christine, besides.
Dave sniffled.
- Fuck, I'm already insane, you know?
- He betrayed you, - said Andy and that wasn't a question.
- He did, - said Dave.
- Although he can`t live without you.
- Oh, c'mon… - skeptically.
- Like you think you can…
- Shit, no.
- You completed your revenge, then?
Some time passed.
- Yes - finally said Dave, - Hey, I've already called the airport. There is a flight to Berlin tonight….Uh…Um…Actually I've booked a ticket already. What do you think? Shall I go? Huh?
Soon Christine returned home. She was a little bit surprised by Andy's presence instead of her husband's, but Fletch explained her that Martin went out to by some milk.
- You finished all the beer? - specified Christine. She was very pragmatic and realistic woman; - I thought there was another pack under the table in the kitchen. You did that too?
- No! - Told Fletch, - That's true about milk. It's my wife, she keeps nagging that I am sitting at home and doing nothing. So I convinced Martin to go to buy some milk.
The door bell ringed, Christine opened the door.
- Martin? - She was surprised to see her husband empty-handed, - Where's the milk?
- M-milk? - Husband scratched his head with amusement a little bit guiltily just in case.
- MA-A-ARRRRT-I-I-IN!!! - Fletch loudly laughed, - You seemed to drowned in the creation process again. You forgot what I told you? What would you do with him, huh? Genius at work!
He made Christine laugh. And assured her that he will go with him now and everything will be done soon.
- Did he call? - Martin asked him almost at the same moment as Andy shut the door.
- Uhm…no, - said Andy, then he saw Martin's face and decided to add, - well there was one call but I am not sure if it was him, there were troubles with the phone line. Don't worry, Martin, I am sure he'll find a way, so…everything's gonna be all right.
Morning was bright; sun was already promising to warm up a little Berlin's streets and Berlin's houses. Christine was drinking her coffee in the dining-room. Martin was shaving in a bathroom, grumbling to himself traditional monologue of the married man, about his razorblade become blunted, because somebody always taking his shaving things to shave her legs. His aftershave was missing too for some reason unknown. He took her perfume in revenge. He heard some weird noise through the splashing water.
He went out from the bathroom, wearing only shorts and holding a towel near his burning from the long scratching with the blunted razor cheek. He froze. In the middle of his drawing room there was Dave Gahan himself with two suitcases. They were talking with Christine.
- Can I stay here for a while till I find some cool place in Berlin? - He asked Martin, - Your wife is not objecting.
- Oh…well…if my wife is not objecting… - said Martin, held a towel with both hands near his chest like it was his protection, - Holy fucking shit,… Dave, - he exhaled, returning to his senses.
Dave laughed triumphant.
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