CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jack
I must admit, as soon as Nate agreed to come to Berlin with me, I’d started making plans about what I wanted to show him in my favourite European city. The city’s so diverse, full of history, art, and fashion, and we didn’t have long.
It was great to be young in the twenty-tens when, in Europe, budget airlines were competing to offer the lowest prices.
I could buy a return flight from London to Berlin for twenty quid, it was a steal!
For the first couple of years at drama school I was in a relationship with Saskia and was closeted.
I didn’t want to reveal my sexuality to classmates or at auditions, as for some producers my orientation would be an automatic mark against me.
And so, after I came out to Sassy and we returned to being platonic friends.
I’d fly to Berlin with a couple of queer mates for lost weekends of hedonism.
In Berlin I could be myself, dance, drink, and explore my slutty side.
It was an ‘anything goes’ few years, and as long as I made it to the airport on a Monday morning for the six-a.m. flight home, life was peachy.
Ten years later and I’m a different man.
I cringe when I get hazy memories of some of the sketchy situations I got mixed up in.
I’d danced myself dizzy, ending up in bed with countless men or groups of men whose names and faces I couldn’t remember.
My wakeup call came when a guy slipped something into my drink.
Getting roofied scared the hell out of me.
I’d stopped the party lifestyle completely when I got a call-back for Harmon Hall.
It may sound over dramatic, but getting cast as Lord Bertie probably saved my life!
We showered separately, dressed, and took the elevator down to the lobby, and then found the breakfast room, which had a continental style breakfast buffet.
Nate’s eyes widened with delight, as if the mouse was let into a cheese factory!
He piled his plate with breads, fruit, and slices of Gouda, Emmentale, Gruyère, Bergk?se, Brie, and Cambozola.
I was the one with the sweet tooth, a devil for German pastries, and so along with my healthy yoghurt, granola, and fruit salad, I added a couple of still warm pastries to my plate.
We chose a table beside lovely arched windows overlooking the wide piazza of Pariser Platz which was already filling with groups of tourists desperate for a selfie in front of the Brandenburg Gate.
Nate was in cheese heaven, moaning in a far-too-sensual way, as he tasted each one.
“The weather forecast said the temperature would be over 30 degrees this afternoon. So, as your trusted tour guide, I’ve decided we’ll do our walking this morning and aim for an air-conditioned museum, gallery or maybe a shopping mall on Ku’damm for the afternoon.
And for the evening, I want to take you dancing.
How does that sound for day one?” I asked.
Nate inhaled another bite of his breakfast, chewed, swallowed, and then said.
“Yeah, cool. I’ll leave everything in your capable hands.
I’m just happy to be here. No notes!” I stared at him and chuckled.
“What?” he asked, a little offended. “I was just thinking…I’ve never seen anyone cheese-drunk before.
” He childishly poked his tongue out and I got a swooping feeling in my belly.
“Do you, eh, want to go to galleries, or museums? Are you interested in the history or the art, music and fashion?” I quizzed to pull myself from the tractor beams of his gorgeous blue eyes.
He hummed thoughtfully, that twinkle of humour still there. “Europe has so much history, don’t you think? It’s fascinating. I want to get a taste of everything,” he winked.
I need to admit, I was kind of bewildered that Nate was just as much of a horn-dog as I was. He’d been so buttoned up before and I’d never seen this side of him. My dreams were coming true, and the date tonight was going to be amazing!
“Yeah, you can’t walk ten paces without stumbling over a famous building, the scene of a massacre, a bombing, or a medieval battle ground!” I scoffed. “We can fit in a little bit of everything in three days,” I said returning his ardour. From his choked response, Nate knew exactly what I meant!
****
And so, to begin our adventures! I led my excited, wide-eyed friend on a walk to the Tiergarten, a huge, five-hundred- and twenty-acre wooded park that stretched through central Berlin.
We rented bikes, and for a couple of hours, followed the tour map around the park, viewing the verdant gardens, lakes, sculptural monuments, and hidden pathways through the trees.
We stopped at Haus der Kulturen der Welt, the venue for our première to see that preparations had already begun and posters were up.
Our next stop was the Victory Column monument and together we climbed the two-hundred and eighty-five narrow steps to the top to be rewarded with amazing views of the city above the tree tops.
I discovered Nate was an avid photographer, and he took loads of photos of the cityscape.
Then he joined me for a couple of photos of us together that I’d add to my Instagram feed in a few days when we were officially supposed to be in the city.
The viewing platform was in full sunlight, and the sun was relentless so I couldn’t see my phone screen.
I stepped into the shadowed stairway, took a breath of cooler, mustier air, and scrolled through the images that I’d just taken of us together.
I sighed out loud at seeing how sparkly-eyed, and happy we both looked.
I turned and glanced over my shoulder across the viewing platform to where Nate was among a group of tourists vying for shots.
A swirl of butterflies fogged my thoughts.
Nate was a sight for sore eyes on the best of days, but here, now, out in public, being with him as a couple of ordinary dudes, I knew this was what being smitten felt like!
I’d secretly been in love with Nate Linden for longer than I cared to admit.
I was adamant in Paris that I wouldn’t put myself in a position to be a rebound hook-up.
But Nate wasn’t rebounding. He’d told me he was demisexual and he didn’t do hook-ups.
He surely wouldn’t have started something with me if he didn’t feel more.
The thought that this could be ‘something more’ terrified and thrilled me.
Nate turned and caught me watching him; he smiled at me, his blue eyes flashing with familiarity and desire.
I stepped out of the stairway and strode toward him, returning the smile, then took his hand and eased us through the crowd back towards the staircase.
“The view from up here is epic,” Nate enthused.
“Where are we going next?” The staircase was empty as we began our single file descent and so I took my chance of giving into my desire, pushing Nate against the curved wall, and stealing a possessive kiss.
Nate groaned into the kiss, but before we could get too hot and heavy, I heard the chattering of tourists as they made their way up the winding staircase.
I pulled away and gave my lover a self-satisfied grin.
Nate looked drunk. Glancing down I saw he’d chubbed a little from just one kiss.
I hitched a brow “Nice.” Then I turned away and continued down the spiral staircase as if nothing saucy had happened.
“How about we rent a rowing boat for an hour?” I called out. Nate followed on behind and stuttered, “Uh, yeah, sure, let’s do that.”
The rowing boat rental site at Cafe am Neun See Bier garten wasn’t too far.
The cafe sat beside a picturesque lake and for fifteen Euros; we rented a boat for an hour.
I leaned back on my elbows, enjoying the sun and the scenery, which not only comprised of the nature, but the man in front of me in a figure-hugging tee, rowing the boat out into the lake.
His t-shirt was clinging to his sweaty skin, muscled arms pumping as he rowed.
He wore a huge dopey smile on his face, like a little boy on an adventure, living his best life.
I’d honestly never seen him look more serene.
“I love the water,” Nate admitted when he met my curious gaze. “If acting hadn’t worked out, I wanted to go back to college and study Marine Biology,” he added.
“Really?”
“Yeah, the sea’s in my blood. My dad had a boat, The Mischief, and when he was home we’d sail most weekends.
I loved it.” He paused for a thoughtful moment before revealing, “The boat was stolen, not long after dad died. It gutted me all over again,” he said before rowing on in silence for a while.
I said nothing, letting Nate have his space.
I draped my arm over the edge of the boat and my fingers trailed in the cool water.
“Dad used to call me Newt, that was my nickname,” Nate said all of a sudden. I met his gaze to see the emotions flickering in his eyes, love, longing, and loss.
“Why Newt?”
“I was swimming at three-months-old, totally at home in the water. Mom said I used to scream the house down when they took me out of the bath.”
“Cute, a water baby!”
“Yeah. When I got older I couldn’t wait to get to the sea.
We’d travel to Seattle on Friday night, sleep on the boat, and set sail as the sun rose.
Man, those sunrises with my dad—” Nate got a little choked up then and shook his head as if telling himself, no, don’t go there.
He rowed on in silence again. I’d already known Nate’s dad had passed away some years ago.
He’d trusted me with his pain, and I didn’t take that lightly.
“Hey, are you going hog the oars or let me have a go? I’m pretty damn handy with boats too!”
“You don’t like being chauffeured, my liege?
” he grinned, knowing that I’d previously whinged about getting typecast as princes and lords.
I wanted to straddle Nate’s thighs and kiss him into submission.
But, there were other boats on the lake with families in them, and I didn’t want to scandalize anyone.
He stopped rowing and moved along the bench. “Team work makes the dream work!” he grinned. I couldn’t wait to get him back to the hotel tonight! We sat together, rowing in tandem. When our hour was up, we remained at the cafe for a cold beer and some tasty salad platters.
“I swear, it’s so chilled-out here it feels like another world,” Nate commented as he dragged a chunk of bread through a smear of salad dressing on his plate.
“New York is go-go-go 24/7. Sometimes I just want silence…you know? I just want to be in nature and enjoy the peace.”
“Did you grow up in the city?”
“Oh no, I was born in Portland, grew up in a small town called Wilkeson, it’s around an hour outside of Seattle. Big city life wasn’t normal for me growing up.”
“Then why do you live in a skyscraper penthouse?”
“I was young, na?ve, and… guess I was seduced by Erik’s wealth and New York lifestyle. It was the kind of life I’d dreamed about but never thought for a minute that I’d live it. We set up our second home there because Erik…”
”Loves big erections!” I suggested.
“Well, yeah!” he smirked, “He told me once that he loves designing skyscrapers because they dominate the skyline and reflect his masculinity! I thought it was cool at the time, but thinking about it now it sounds a bit…”
“Wanky?” I prompted.
“Yeah,” Nate chuckled. “I suppose. I’m tired of sky-high living. My priorities have changed. The city doesn’t make me happy anymore.”
“I remember what a huge culture shock New York was for me. I felt like an ant among all of those tall buildings. It was nice to visit for a week to say that I’d been there, but it’s not somewhere I could live.
I’m more of a nature boy.” I paused to take a sip of beer.
“The sea’s in my blood too. I have this place on the Welsh coast, a fisherman’s cottage right on the shoreline that my taid left to me.
“Taid?”
“It’s Welsh, for grandad. Hughie Boyd was his name.
My dad was born in a small village on the Pembrokeshire coast in Wales, called Solva.
Dad resented the place, it was too small, too remote for him and he yearned for the big city life.
As soon as he’d finished school he left for uni and never moved back.
We visited every summer because mum insisted that my sister and I should know where our family comes from.
” I paused for another sip of ice cold beer.
“My taid passed seven years ago and left his cottage to me. I’ve renovated it over a few years.
The cottage has a slipway that leads down to the sea.
Taid used to pull his boat up there and sort his catch.
Being snuggled up at the cottage during a storm—it’s just the best. The waves come up to break against the cottage walls, but it’s water tight.
A roaring fire, a nice bottle of red...good company,” I reminisced.
“You should come and stay sometime,” I suggested.
“And if staying with me isn’t a big enough lure, there are lots of artisan cheese makers in the area, I’m sure you’d love it. ”
Nate’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Deal! When can I visit?”
“I’m serious!” I insisted.
“I am too. After London I’m taking a year off to work on my screenplay. I can do that wherever the hell I want. I’d like to see more of the UK, Ireland, and Scotland. I was thinking of renting an Airstream and going out on the road. You have Airstream rental in the UK, yeah?”
“I think we do. That sounds like great fun. I’ll check my schedule and we can plan a week at the cottage.”
Leaving Tiergarten, we cycled to the Berlin Story Bunker Museum, which told of eight-hundred years of Berlin history, including World War 2.
The museum was air-conditioned and blessedly cool, and after an hour soaking up history, we returned the bikes and, hand-in-hand, we strolled back to our hotel for a much-needed rest before our date night.
****