Ander was lost in music, his fingers dancing over the guitar's fingerboard in intricate patterns, when he heard Leif gasp.  "Look what just walked in!  This is somebody's lucky night."

            Ander glanced up, his focus on music shattered.  Following Leif's wide-eyed gaze, he turned toward the main door.  Although the spacious room was crowded, he had no trouble telling who Leif was talking about.

            The two young men who had just entered drew the eye like beacons.  Even in Lady Tayanita's House of Companionship and Refreshment, famous throughout Pella for exceptional women and men, these two stood apart.

            Both wore soft brown traveling leathers, closely molded by long use to their bodies, and long gray cloaks that still glistened with melting snowflakes.  Ander guessed they were only a season or two older than his own twenty years.  Though they were lean and stood lightly, like dancers, their wide shoulders and narrow hips were strikingly virile.

            But it was the visitors' faces that captured Ander's attention.  The taller of the two sported thick blond hair cut collar length. Clear blue eyes spoke of the far north.  Unlike most northerners who found themselves in a brothel, he was smiling and at ease.  His handsome features showed an appreciation of the establishment's offerings and anticipation of enjoying them.

            The other one complemented the northerner by his contrast.  Russet hair was cut to loose curls, and deep brown eyes seemed to smoulder.  His classic features were almost fey in their sensuality.

            Ander's stomach fluttered as he sensed the erotic appraisal in the youth's scrutiny of the room. "Don't stare," he murmured to Leif, despite the fact he couldn't take his eyes off these apparitions either.

            Then the curly-haired one met his gaze and smiled warmly.  Ander's cheeks flushed hot and he averted his eyes, but the stirring in his groin told him he wouldn't be able to look away for long.
 

            Sorel nudged Nicolai in the ribs.  A familiar gleam lit his eyes.  "See the raven haired beauty by the fireplace?  He blushed like a virgin when I smiled at him.  Innocent, just as you like them."

            Nicolai grinned before turning to look.  "Nobody can compare with you, and you know it."  He brushed aside luxuriant hair and gently squeezed the back of his comrade's neck.  "Still, a little virginal modesty would be interesting.  A change of pace from wanton creatures like you."  He took off his cloak and examined the room.

            A balcony ran along three walls, providing access to private rooms on the second floor.  Cushions and lounges were scattered around the room, and soft lighting came from candles and a huge fieldstone fireplace at the far end of the room.  Log walls and thick wooden beams supporting the roof made him feel at home.  Curtained alcoves on opposite sides of the main room offered nooks for intimate socializing.

            Customers and their companions talked and laughed in hushed voices.  Unattached companions circulated around the room:  women on the side near the door, men near the fireplace.

            Nicolai had barely glimpsed the musician who had caught Sorel's eye when a lovely woman in a flowing green velvet gown approached.  She smiled with genuine warmth.

            "Gentlemen, I'm Lady Tayanita.  Welcome to my house of companionship.  Permit me to take your cloaks.  And let me say it's a genuine pleasure to see noble gentlemen such as yourselves.  You grace our humble house."  She accepted their cloaks and handed them to a boy who appeared at her side.  Though her age was impossible to guess, her high cheekbones, deep red hair and cheerful eyes held great appeal.

            "Perhaps you would like some refreshment?  Our companions will be glad to see to your needs."

            "A kind invitation, madame.  My name is Nicolai, and my friend is Sorel.  We've been riding all day.  A few hours in your house would suit us well."

            "Excellent, gentlemen."  She gestured toward two buxom young women dressed in diaphanous gowns who hovered nearby.  "Mina and Tannis seem to have time and willingness to make your acquaintance.  Or is there someone else you had in mind to meet?"

            Sorel nodded in the direction of the fireplace.  "The black haired youth with the guitar.  Do you know if he's currently occupied?"

            Lady Tayanita glanced over her shoulder.  "Ah, Ander!"  She turned back to Sorel and shook her head sadly.  "He grew up here.  His mother was my finest companion for many years.  I took Ander in after she died of the Sleeping Sickness, when the boy was still small.  He makes music for us, and some pay just to look at him and dream.  You clearly have an eye for beauty, sir.  But Ander rarely makes the acquaintance of visitors.  He's very shy."

            Nicolai cleared his throat.  "Perhaps he'd be willing to talk with us about music.  I think he might have noticed my friend's admiration for his playing."  Gesturing toward the fireplace, he urged Lady Tayanita to take another look.

            Ander sat with his guitar across his knees, watching them with a diffident expression.  Light from the crackling fire reflected off his lustrous hair, making it shine with bronze highlights;  loose strands partially concealed his eyes.  His trim form, dressed casually in a loose gray shirt and soft cotton pants, was taut with embarrassed acknowledgment of his interest.

            Sorel hummed softly in anticipation, and Nicolai was charmed by the youth's seeming lack of sophistication.

            Lady Tayanita made an imperceptible sign, and Ander nodded slightly.  Turning back to her visitors, Lady Tayanita smiled widely and bowed.  She was obviously surprised and pleased by this turn of events.

            "Ander also has an eye for beauty.  If you'll come with me, gentlemen, I'll introduce you."

            They traversed the room, receiving disappointed glances from several companions.  As they arrived at the fireplace Ander put his guitar down and stood.  Leif offered to fetch honey mead, which the visitors accepted, and introductions were made.

            As soon as Lady Tayanita withdrew, Ander gestured toward an unoccupied alcove.  "Would you like to sit over there?  The cushions are much more comfortable than these chairs."  Ander's blush was apparent even in the muted light.  His shyness was genuine.

            Nicolai responded gallantly, his northern sense of propriety triggered by the boy's modesty.  "That looks fine," he said.  "And don't worry about us, Ander.  We'll be happy just to hear about Pella.  Or talk about music.  Sorel is a bit of a musician himself.  You two might have a lot to talk about."

            Ander gave him a grateful look, but his eyes revealed desire as well.

            They were soon settled among thick cushions decorated with embroidered geometric designs.  Leif brought a flagon of chilled mead and three goblets, then withdrew.

            It was darker in the alcove than beside the hearth, and Ander's discomfort seemed to ease once they were out of view.  "This is better," he sighed as he poured the mead.  After handing goblets to Nicolai and Sorel, he poured half a glass for himself before sitting crossed-legged in front of them.  He raised his goblet.  "May your visit bring good fortune and fond memories."

            Sorel and Nicolai raised their glasses, then sipped the mead.  It was cool and tart, reminiscent of autumn leaves blowing in a crisp wind.

            "We're honored you've chosen to welcome us," Nicolai said.  "We've been on a cold road the whole day, and this seems an excellent place to refresh ourselves."

            "We heard you playing when we came in," Sorel added.  "You're very good!  One of the finest I've heard, and I've heard many.  Perhaps you'd play something for us later?"

            Ander met Sorel's eyes and shivered again.  He was sure it was a sincere compliment, but the look in Sorel's eyes penetrated straight to his heart.  And his groin.  He gulped, lost in the depths of Sorel's dark eyes.  "I . . . I'd be pleased to play for you," he stammered.  "But I'm a bit cold, so far from the fire.  Could, uh . . . may I join you on the cushion?  It would be warmer there.  I play much better when I'm warm."  His face reddened at his artless reaction to the handsome visitors, but his heart raced with anticipation.

            Nicolai smiled and moved sideways on the cushion, creating a space between himself and Sorel.  "A fine suggestion, Ander.  Sit here and we'll get warm together."

            Ander uncurled from the floor and stood before them, his body backlit by light from the main room.  Then he seemed to shake himself out of a trance, and drew a silky curtain across the alcove's entrance before sinking gracefully into the space Nicolai had made.  The alcove took on a murky intimacy as light filtered through the peach colored curtain.  Hesitantly, he put a hand on Nicolai's thigh.  He found himself shivering despite the warm bodies flanking him.

            "You are cold," Nicolai remarked.  "Lean against me, I'll warm you."  He put an arm around Ander's shoulders and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

            Ander relaxed into the embrace and waited for the visitors to make another overture, but to his surprise the two youths seemed in no hurry.  With growing astonishment, he realized they were going to wait for his invitation.  Heart pounding, he ran a hand along the inside of Nicolai's thigh.

            Despite his leather clothing, it was obvious the northerner was powerfully aroused.  Ander's cock swelled to full length, equal to the span of a big man's fully spread hand.  It made a long, thick mound beneath his soft pants.

            Lifting his head from Nicolai's shoulder, he looked at his other new acquaintance.  "This is pleasant, Sorel.  Would you join us?"

            Although his desire was as conspicuous as Nicolai's, Sorel held back. "I'd like nothing better.  You're sure, though?"

            After another gulp, Ander nodded.  He shifted on the cushion and insinuated himself between Nicolai's legs, his back pressed against the northerner's solidly muscled torso.

            Now that Ander's consent was clearly given, Nicolai wasted no time in wrapping his hands around the boy's waist and pulling them together snugly. Then he slid a hand under Ander's shirt and began to gently caress the sleek muscles of his chest.

            "Yesss," Ander hissed, arching his back and leaning against Nicolai.  He beckoned to Sorel with a small toss of his head.

            Any lingering doubts about their shy host's desires vanished.  Sorel knelt, one knee between Ander's legs, and leaned forward.

            Ander was breathless as the entrancing youth slowly bent down to kiss him.  His chestnut curls shimmered in the dim light.  The faint sounds from the main room faded from Ander's ears as their lips met.

            The kiss was gentle, not what Ander had expected after Sorel's smoldering gaze.  He felt another hand touch his side, matching Nicolai's caresses.  Then Sorel broke the kiss and pulled back slightly, his gaze locked to Ander's.  He slid his hand to Ander's hip and let it rest there, his eyebrows arched in an unspoken question.

            Still breathless, Ander reached for Sorel's hand and moved it to the mound of his rigid cock.  Sorel smiled radiantly and ran his fingers lightly over the cloth-covered shaft as he renewed their kiss.  They were still pressed together, their tongues beginning a tentative exploration, when Ander felt Nicolai's other hand join Sorel's in gently massaging his cock.  He gasped and broke the kiss.

            "Let's go upstairs!"

            Nicolai chuckled, one hand lightly rubbing the head of Ander's cock while the fingers of his other hand tantalized a firm nipple.  "Another fine idea, I'd say."  His voice was a low purr in Ander's ear.  "But there's no hurry, is there?  We haven't finished getting you warm."