Textbook Execution {Chapter 3}
Patrick met Stephane three times. Only the third time, did he stop hating Stephane’s guts.
The first day that Patrick met Stephane face to face, it’d been raining. A Friday, day seventy-five. Actually, it’d started out as a pretty good day, the rain aside. They started out their routine backwards. A bath first, and then sex. And then Brian realized that he had an annoying knot on his lower back and Patrick was trying to concentrate on that, except Brian believed in multitasking, so he was also trying to teach Patrick how to properly stick one’s tongue down one’s throat.
Wasn’t working well, who the fuck cared.
Then the buzzer rang. Brian wasn’t the type to have visitors though, in fact, Patrick was pretty sure he was the only visitor.
“Yes, Alban? Who is it?”
“He says he is a friend of yours, Stephane?”
Stephane. Suddenly, Patrick felt cold. The fact he was naked probably had something to do with it, but it was more the name. He could see that Brian had stilled too. He was wearing an expression Patrick had never seen before. “Fine, let him up.”
Stephane. Stephane. Even the name sounded stuck-up enough so that Patrick hated it after repeating it in his head too many times. “I guess I’ll have to get dressed?”
“I don’t think Stephane is going to care if we are undressed or not.” Brian shrugged Patrick’s arms off of him, "But for propriety’s sake, find a shirt or something.”
.
Stephane turned out to be the young man in the portrait. There was no mistaking it, because the first thing after Stephane had said, after he had dropped his wet coat onto Brian’s clean carpet, was, “You kept this old thing? That’s so unlike you.”
“How do you know I kept it for you and not Blade?”
“Touche,” Stephane looked at Brian, and then he settled his eyes on Patrick, who had gotten completely dressed because he was suddenly self-conscious. In his own right, Stephane was also ridiculously good looking. “Who’s this, Bibi?”
Bibi. Stephane even had a nickname for Brian, and the said nickname made Brian red in the face.
“Don’t call me that, I grew out of it.”
“You grow out of so many things so fast,” Stephane shook his head, looking perfectly regretful. “And yet you have not changed.”
Patrick had the feeling he was intruding on a very private conversation, but he suddenly didn’t know how to leave.
Brian saved him, “I’m going to drive Patrick back to school,” he said tightly. “After I come back, you and I will talk.”
“Oui, I suppose we inevitably must.” Stephane looked Patrick over with some interest again, “Your name is Patrick?”
“Yes,” Patrick looked away. Brian had left him alone and defenseless against Stephane, (presumably to find pants) but that was hardly an excuse. “You are his...” ex-boyfriend? Patrick had never thought of himself and Brian as boyfriends, but he supposed that was what they were now. Unless they were still student and teacher, just fucking on the side.
“I am his friend,” Stephane smiled, and then his smile faded when he saw the hard look on Patrick’s face, “Or at least,” he corrected himself with a gesture of his hands, “I can wish I still were.”
Brian came back out of his bedroom, dressed, “Come, Patrick, we are going now.” To Stephane, he said, “I have no chocolates, please do not destroy my kitchen looking for them.”
.
Patrick found that he had nothing to say. Even though evidently Brian was waiting for him to say something. If this had been some dramatic movie, he’d have plenty of things to say. But he couldn’t.
“Patrick.”
“Stephane...the guy that was your first, yeah?” The words tasted sour, Patrick practically spit them out.
Brian shrugged, “Yes, but that doesn’t mean anything. Just because he was first.”
“You were my first,” Patrick said. “You don’t just not mean anything.” He didn’t even have any idea what he was trying to do; all he really knew was that he was failing miserably at it.
“But I am not you. You are the romantic, I am not. And Stephane...” Brian trailed off and reached to cup his face, “Nothing is going to change, Patrick.” He kissed him, slow, gentle. Things were already different.
.
“Well, when a guy’s ridiculously good looking, he automatically comes with a good-looking ex, that’s a big ‘duh,’” Yu-Na looked at him. “Patrick, look at me.”
“I feel so stupid. And awkward, and jealous, but mostly stupid.” Patrick had already banged his head against Yu-Na’s coffee table so many times that he knew he had the bruises to prove it. “I’m stupid, tell me I’m stupid.”
He’d never been this messed up when Adam asked out Yu-Na. Which only meant that this mess with Brian was even worse than he’d bargained for. What did he ever see (and still see) in this guy? She sighed a noisy sigh, “You’re so pathetic.”
“I’d rather be stupid, but thanks anyway.”
“I meant it, you know.” Yu-Na pulled the scrunchie she was wearing out of her hair so that she could brush through her hair with her fingers. “You’re pathetic. He already said he liked you.”
“Did not, when?”
“Joubert said nothing’s going to change,” Yu-Na shrugged. “And the Stephane guy’s probably going to be gone soon anyway. You say you love him, can’t you trust him?”
(Now that Patrick heard it out loud, it sounded so cheesy.)
Because. Because Patrick didn’t know why. At the end of the day, he had only his own insecurities to blame. After all, if he’d been Yu-Na, he would not have been so quick to forgive Adam and himself for the time in the coat closet. “He and I are totally different people. It doesn’t...Yu-Na, he’s a teacher. Look, maybe it’s a sign or something.”
She sighed again, “Make up your mind. Break up with him, suffer through it, whatever. Your forehead is bleeding.”
.
Maybe Patrick was reading too much into things; when he thought about it, Brian had seemed like he actively disliked Stephane. And Yu-Na had to be right, Stephane wasn’t going to stay long; if his coat was of any indication, he wasn’t even staying over at Brian’s apartment. Things were going to go back to normal soon. Patrick had to be optimistic about this.
Sunday came, and he’d paced his room about fifty times before grabbing his keys and driving over to Joubert’s apartment. Alban had the strangest expression, as if he already knew Patrick was chasing after something fleeting and futile and didn’t have the heart to tell him.
“Mr. Joubert and his friend went out a while ago. I don’t know when they’ll be back.”
.
It was Monday. And Patrick somehow dragged himself to school, went through all the motions (probably failed a chemistry lab, bombed a calculus test by not taking it -- he’d been asleep.) But he’d met Yu-Na by the lockers right before French and he’d told her, “I’m not going.”
“So you’re just running away.”
“I just don’t -- can’t deal with it right now.” He didn’t even know what he was trying to deal with. Patrick slammed his locker shut, making everyone in the hallway stare in his direction. Great, now he was even more weird than he already was. Great. “Yu-Na...”
“Drama queen,” Yu-Na just poked him in the forehead, “Do whatever, don’t go, but Mao said he wasn’t there this morning.”
“I am not a queen,” Patrick hissed. “Wait, what?”
“Mao has French first thing in the morning, remember? She said that the old hag lady was back.”
.
Always prone to bad and hasty judgment, Patrick drove to the apartment again. This time, Alban did not even try to hide his exasperation.
“Mr. Joubert made it clear I wasn’t to let you in.”
“He did not.”
“Yes, he did,” Alban hit the button anyway. “I will prove it to you. Mr. Joubert?”
“It is Patrick?” Came Brian’s voice, and damn, even while Patrick was determined to be pissed off, the voice still did things. “Tell him to go home.”
Alban’s look said, ‘I told you so.’
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell what the fuck is going on.”
Somehow, Alban didn’t look too surprised at his theatrics. He just relayed the message minus the obscenities, “I don’t think Patrick will be going anywhere.”
There was a long silence, and Patrick thought he heard scuffle over the speakers, Brian getting dressed? “Fine, fine, if it is what he wants. Let him up.”
.
Brian seemed to be by himself, but he didn’t seem happy to see Patrick at all, “I should have known that you were going to be stubborn.”
Patrick breathed in deeply, “You,” he reached out his hands, if he tried to choke Brian, he doubted he’d get far. “What are you doing?” He dropped his hands.
“What am I doing?” Brian was laughing, but the laugh was bitter and the sound made Patrick’s head hurt. “You always want to know, what I am doing. You...you are never content with what I tell you. Why must you be such a troublesome child?”
A child, And not just any child, a troublesome child. Now Patrick just really wanted to hit him. Except that Brian caught his wrist before he could get anywhere close to his face. “I am not a...” He wasn’t even going to dignify the insult by saying it. “Brian, I just...”
“You see, Patrick?” Brian had this look on his face, Patrick didn’t know where he’d seen it before, the expression was too full of feeling and not like Brian at all. And then Brian sighed and made a gesture, Patrick remembered where he’d seen it.
He’d seen it from Stephane.
“I am his friend...or at least, I can wish I still were.”
“You are fucking him, aren’t you? Just like that.” There didn’t seem to be any other explanation, and Brian wasn’t exactly jumping to correct Patrick’s misconceptions. He only said:
“No, I’m not.”
For obvious reasons, Patrick hardly believed him. “Convince me,” he knew his voice was shaking again. “Please, convince me.” Yu-Na was right about that too, he was pathetic. Patrick wished he could hate her for being right about everything.
“I doubt that you will be convinced by anything I have to say,” Brian’s voice was suddenly so heavy and old that Patrick had to look twice to make sure that it was the same person standing there speaking. “This...this is what I warned you about. But of course you are too stubborn to listen to me.”
The back of Patrick’s eyes suddenly felt dangerously hot, as if he was close to crying but he knew he couldn’t. He swallowed hard, “I’ll listen now,” He reached for Brian’s hands and held them. “If you’ll tell me, of course I’ll listen.”
Brian pulled one of his hands out of Patrick’s death grip and instead, touched his face. Patrick had learned that Brian touching his face was a sign of honesty, “I am sorry. Know that I mean it.”
“...What are you sorry for?” Patrick couldn’t speak any louder than a whisper.
“Everything that I have ever done to make you love me,” now Brian was smiling a smile so wistful that it scrambled Patrick’s insides. He didn’t even know how to interpret the feeling. “You have loved me, haven’t you? A long time.”
“I realized it eighteen days ago, exactly. But I probably...” Patrick’s face felt warm, “...a long time before that. What are you saying?”
Brian’s eyes flickered, “You kept track.”
“I like numbers,” Patrick said. Somehow, he managed a faint grin, “On the calendar in my room, I mark down every day.”
“I see, and what do you write down? Today, day twenty, I fucked Monsieur? I hope you at least wrote it in French.”
Patrick’s face was now burning hot, but he felt hopeful. It almost sounded like everything was back to normal. “No! I wouldn’t...I mean, I just make a mark. With a pen. Besides, I hide the calendar.”
Suddenly, the door opened, “Bibi? Where do you want your keys?”
Patrick froze again. Stephane had Brian’s keys? He was turning even more red, he thought. Except this time, the flush to his face was one of humiliation and not embarrassment. He tried to glare at Brian, but ended up not even able to look at him.
“Just leave them by the door.”
“Or perhaps not, I’m interrupting something?” Patrick heard footsteps start and stop. “Of course I am, hello, Patrick. I’ll just be leaving, again.”
Patrick wanted to say something along the lines of, “Fuck you.” but couldn’t manage that either. Instead, he stepped out between Brian and the wall and brushed past Stephane without looking at him. “No, it’s okay, stay. I was just leaving.”
“Patrick,” Brian’s voice was strained.
The voice made his head hurt, Patrick knew he had mixed his shoes up and therefore had the wrong shoe on each foot, but he was in such a hurry to leave. “Shut up, Brian.”
.
That night, Patrick fucked himself with his fingers in the shower. He might have almost bawled. But no one was there to see so he’d never have to own up to it. There was at least that.
.
Patrick faked a cold for a good two days before his mother took his temperature, pronounced it normal, and then just stood there.
“Okay, fine, I’ll go to school tomorrow. Could you please just go away now?”
His mother just sat down on the edge of his bed and looked at him until Patrick flinched and looked away, “I think it’s time for you to tell me, Patrick.”
But what could he tell her? That he’d been fucking his ridiculously good-looking French teacher for the past ninety days, had fallen in love with him, and now had his heart broken because a ridiculously good-looking ex-boyfriend was back in town. His mother was understanding, but he knew he was just pushing his luck here.
“Mom.” That made him sound seven years old.
“Patrick.”
Finally, Patrick heaved a sigh and sat up. He’d picked up his stubbornness from her, he knew that much, “Two things.”
“I’m listening.”
He inhaled, then exhaled, then, “Mom, I’m um,” (Maybe he really should have called Yu-Na beforehand and have her tell him how stupid this whole thing was. That’d convince him to keep his mouth shut. Shit.) “I’m pretty sure that I’m gay.”
The room was so still, Patrick was almost positive that she had stopped breathing, “Mom?”
“Oh, Patrick,” She finally spoke, letting out a rush of air. “Come here.”
This was his mother telling him to “come here,” but Patrick heard Brian’s voice in the back of his head and his eyes felt hot again. He all but collapsed into her arms, once again regressing back another ten years. Patrick also might have hiccuped, but he was not going to cry.
“It’s okay,” she said finally. “It’s all right.”
No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t fine, it wasn’t okay. Patrick had been telling the truth here, but he didn’t know how he could continue to be honest. A part of him definitely hated Brian now, but there was that other part of him that was even more stubborn. If he’d come out and said it, Brian wouldn’t have a job anymore, he’d probably be arrested, tried. Of course, Patrick was seventeen and on all technicalities legal (enough), but still. What would people even think? It wouldn’t just affect Brian, it’d affect him too.
“Patrick, honey?”
He mumbled something into her shoulder.
“Patrick, what is the second thing?”
”I’m sleeping with my French teacher, I love him, my heart is broken.” Finally, he pulled back and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. Yup, definitely wet, which meant Patrick could not look at her.
Patrick couldn’t do it.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to fall in love again.” Maybe once upon a time, Brian had thought that too. “It hurts too much.”
For a moment, Patrick truly wondered if he meant that. He was more like Brian than he thought. His mother looked at him, and he couldn’t decipher anything on her face. But at least she didn’t ask any more questions. She just hugged him again and when he finally broke down and started bawling, she said nothing.
Patrick had never really realized how much he loved his mother.
.
The next day he went to school. Patrick probably still looked like he got ran over by a truck, but all Yu-Na really said was, “I’m really sorry.”
“Is he...is he here today?” Patrick hoped not, but he was always the one with terrible luck.
“Mao saw him this morning. So yeah, I guess.”
.
When he walked into the classroom, Brian didn’t look at him. There was no smirk, no “Bonjour, Patrick, please stand up so everyone can see that you have an erection.” Okay, so Brian had never really said that, but Patrick was positive that he’d thought it more than once. Just silence.
Which was fine. Patrick didn’t care, at all.
It was odd though, sitting through French class without his usual problems. Patrick supposed being still miserable beyond belief had something to do with it.
He tried to pick out clues that might give away how miserable Brian was, but aside from assigning five more pages of homework than he usually did, there wasn’t anything.
Still, Patrick was stupid. He had a feeling he was always going to be stupid. And besides, since he was still without a hard-on to worry about, perhaps Brian could take him seriously, for once. He waited until everyone was gone, like usual, and walked up to Brian’s desk. Brian seemed to grading last week’s tests and he was slashing through the answers with red ink. Patrick saw a lot of sixties and seventies.
“What’d I get?”
Brian’s hand had trembled and stilled. Patrick knew he’d imagined it, “What you usually get.” He thumbed through the stack and pulled out a paper near the bottom.
Beside where Patrick had scrawled his name, Brian had written, 110, A+ .
“You can keep it. Did you need something else?”
At least Brian wasn’t teasing him about needing to run to the men’s room. If he’d done something like that, Patrick would have lost it. He drummed his fingers on the desk for a few moments, and then he looked down at his shoes.
“One question.”
“I reserve the right not to answer.”
On the latest paper, Brian had marked 83, B. Adam’s paper. Patrick wondered if he was the only one passing this class.
“You know that I love you.” Patrick was expecting to stumble all over the words, but somehow he managed to form a mostly coherent sentence, “I want to know if you’d ever even considered loving me.”
Brian put down his pen and looked up at him, “You are so...” he faltered, for whatever reason. he didn’t finish. Patrick had never known Brian to not finish a sentence. “If you must know so badly. The answer is no. No, I have not.”
Just as he thought. But now Patrick knew it, and he’d never known that this sort of pain was possible. “Good to know,” he turned to go, and then he stopped again. “I told my mother.”
Patrick thought he heard the pen drop again, “I suppose that means I no longer have a job.” Of course Patrick wasn’t expecting Brian to have a full-on freak out or anything, but a real reaction of some sort would have been nice.
“I just told her that you were right, that’s all. Au revoir, Monsieur.”
.
Since high school hallways were worse than news tabloids, Patrick supposed he’d been preoccupied thinking about other stuff to actually notice, but by the time he’d gotten out of calculus, it was impossible to miss. Conversations usually went like this:
“Hey, did you know that Monsieur Joubert quit?”
“I can’t believe that he quit...how’d you know?”
“I was in the office yesterday, I saw him hand in his resignation, Mr. Hamilton pitched a bitch fit about him not giving a week’s notice. I thought it was sort of hilarious.”
“Hamilton pitching a bitch fit? Dude, I’d pay serious cash. Did he throw anything?”
“I dunno, it’s not like I stayed...”
Brian had quit. Brian had quit. Brian had quit -- Patrick’s head was spinning. Of course Brian could have not believed him, and therefore he had quit out of self-preservation, but Brian always believed him. Patrick knew he never believed Brian, but it seemed that Brian had always believed him.
When he met up with Yu-Na by the lockers, she said, “Hey, d’you hear that Joubert quit?”
“Only about five million times between here and the calculus classroom,” Patrick was about to roll his eyes, but then he caught himself. That’d been something he had learned from Brian, “And why should I care?” He did care, he cared too much, but for once, he wanted to keep something from Yu-Na.
It only took her about ten seconds to call his bluff, “Did you, you know, report him?” Her voice dropped to a whisper.
Patrick bit his lip and concentrated on trying to find his Chemistry book in the avalanche of papers, so he didn’t have to look at her. “I couldn’t. I wanted to.”
Yu-Na had never voluntarily given him a hug before, but she suddenly jumped him and Patrick banged his head hard against his open locker door. He just wished he was in a position to appreciate it.
.
After school, he drove over to the apartment by habit. Alban gave him a long look.
“Last night, Mr. Joubert went to the airport. He said he was going back to France.”
“Alone?” No, impossible, Stephane was probably with him.
“Yes, alone.”
.
Patrick was officially torn between suffering a big headache, and continuing to be miserable. Nothing made sense. Brian had gone back to France, alone. Alban had said that Stephane hadn’t been part of the equation...or at least, that much could probably be assumed. One the one hand, it was probably a good thing that Brian had gone back to France, where Patrick couldn’t find him. But still, he suddenly missed him.
During dinner, his mother took one look at his face, and said, “Patrick, did something happen at school today?”
Here was another chance to betray Brian like he most certainly deserved to be betrayed. Still, he couldn’t do it. Patrick shrugged, “My French teacher randomly quit today. It was weird because he didn’t tell us anything.”
He quickly helped himself to more stir-fry. His mother said, “Oh...was he nice?”
Patrick almost choked, “He was kind of an ass, I’m glad he’s gone.”
Later, when he was upstairs and alone, Patrick still didn’t know what that said about him. Probably he was an idiot.
.
“You’re going to go with us on a date today,” Yu-Na hooked one arm through his and the other through Adam’s. “We miss you as a third-wheel.”
“You do?” Somehow, Patrick seriously doubted that.
“She wants to drag me to a chick flick,” Adam buried his face into his hands. “At least stay for the movie?”
Adam was Yu-Na’s boyfriend, which meant that at some point, he had to get used to watching chick flicks. But the fact that he was making a big deal out of it clearly meant that he could also tell that Patrick was in a rotten mood. Patrick was suddenly grateful for his friends.
It’d been two days since Brian quit and had gone back to France, and Patrick still had no idea how to deal with it properly. He’d even considered going to the library and checking out self-help books on how to get over a breakup. He doubted they had those though, for those particular problems, there were talk shows.
“I um, I probably shouldn’t. Isn’t that English essay monstrous?”
Yu-Na pouted at him, “Patrick, please? It’s Friday, starting your paper tomorrow morning won’t kill you. Besides, you need to get out more. Besides, how often do your parents leave for the weekend?”
Patrick’s parents never leave for the weekend, but apparently they’d picked this weekend to make use of free getaway tickets, even though his mother hadn’t wanted to. “As a third wheel?”
Yu-Na rolled her eyes, and instinctively, Patrick looked away. “As our friend, you ass.”
They’d reached the parking lot now, and Yu-Na dragged him over to her car, Patrick let himself be dragged. Maybe third wheeling dates between Yu-Na and Adam was the way to go. Until they got tired of it, anyway.
“Fine.”
“...Patrick, is that you?”
The voice that called his name was neither familiar nor strange, but Patrick still hated it. He turned to see Stephane waving at him.
Yu-Na was staring. Guess that was confirmation enough to think that Stephane was also gorgeous in his own right. “Patrick, you know this guy?”
“Um...sort of.”
But before he could bolt, Stephane had already walked over to them. “I’ve finally found you. Persistence can be a charm in itself, I think I have learned that...” he trailed off, then shook his head. “Can we speak?”
“Aren’t we speaking right now?”
Stephane opened his mouth and closed it again, “Please?”
Brian was back in France, presumably that was all Stephane’s fault. Patrick had nothing to say to him, “I have nothing to say to you.”
“I have a few things that need to be said to you,” Stephane didn’t back down. In fact, he grabbed Patrick’s free hand by the wrist and his fingers kind of reminded Patrick of Brian’s fingers. “Even if you despise me, I do not think you despise Bibi. Not yet.”
“Stop calling him that.”
Yu-Na suddenly put the two and two together and she relinquished Patrick’s arm and unlocked the doors to her car, “Actually, we’ll let you third wheel us another day. Bye, Patrick.”
Before Patrick could protest, they were gone. Yu-Na was going to die one day driving. He was sure of it.
Now it was just him and Stephane. And the only thing that Patrick could think about was how Brian evidently liked his boyfriends stubborn.
“I have always called him Bibi, I am sorry, it is just habit.” Stephane looked down at his shoes. “And you know I am going to stand here until you come with me.”
.
“How...did you know where to find me?”
Stephane also had a nice car, but of course Patrick was still partial towards Brian and his imported sports car. This one was probably rented. And it remained to be seen why Britney Spears was playing in the car, but Stephane turned that off before he looked over at Patrick.
“Bibi, I mean, Brian told me where. He said you were a student, and so I figured I’d try my luck. It would appear that I have no luck.”
“That makes two of us.”
Stephane looked at him for a long time, “Do you mind if I smoke?”
He’d already gotten out a cigarette and a lighter, Patrick just shrugged, “Do whatever you want.”
.
Stephane drove for a little while, before he randomly stopped the car on the side of the road and stared thoughtfully at his cigarette. It didn’t seem like he wanted to open the conversation, so Patrick coughed pointedly and said, “Brian picked up smoking from you.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, but he hates it when I smoke. I don’t do it quite as often as I once did,” Stephane sighed and tossed the joint out of the window. “Bibi went back to Poitiers.”
“I know,” said Patrick. “Why aren’t you with him?”
“We are not lovers, Patrick. There is no reason for me to go with him,” Stephane gave a slight snort, also reminiscent of Brian. “There, I have said it, if you do not trust him, trust me. I have no reason to lie.”
Okay, fine. So they weren’t fucking. But that still didn’t make any sense. But Patrick supposed he should have realized that long before. Nothing made any sense; nothing was ever simple when it came to Brian Joubert. “Why are you even here?” They could start with that. Maybe Stephane was different enough from Brian to try giving him a straight answer.
“I miss him.”
“I thought you said--” Patrick clenched his hands.
“We are not lovers, but you do not need to love someone to miss them,” Stephane said. “In ten years, you might understand that.”
“What’s that even supposed to mean?”
“Rien, it does not mean anything.”
They were all the same; Patrick wondered what it wold take for something to mean anything. Or maybe it was because they were French, or something. He would have to rethink any future trips to France, those people gave him headaches. “Both of you are so fucking French.”
Stephane’s mouth twitched, “I am not French, whether that’s a fortune or not, I’ve yet to decide. I think you mean ‘European.’”
“Just so you know, I was honestly trying to insult you,” Patrick said dryly. “What are you, then?”
“And I probably deserve it,” Stephane shrugged one shoulder. “I’m Swiss. I spent my summers in France when I was younger. I met Bibi in Paris.”
“He hates Paris.”
“Bibi grows up too fast,” Stephane rubbed his forehead. “But like I said, he never changes. It is a wish that I have though, that one day he learns to appreciate Paris. It is a beautiful city. Have you ever been?”
“No, and I don’t think I want to, not anymore.” Patrick was half expecting Stephane to pull out a pair of tickets to Paris. Because it always happened that way in the movies. But Stephane didn’t pull out anything. “What’d you want to tell me?”
“I fall in and out of love too quickly. I suspect I will always be like that. It was wrong of me to assume that Bibi would be the same way. Asking his forgiveness...it was stupid of me. I know that now.” Stephane closed his eyes and sighed. He took out another cigarette and lit it, inhaled deeply. “And that, is all I’m at liberty to say. The rest you must hear from Bibi himself, Patrick.”
“Brian’s in France,” Patrick said flatly. “My allowance doesn’t stretch that far.”
Now Stephane was grinning, he reached over for his bag and rummaged around before two tickets fell into Patrick’s lap, “I thought if I pulled them out too quickly, it would be too much like Hollywood. This flight leaves tonight.” He clapped Patrick on the shoulder, “I wish you luck.”
.
After Stephane dropped him off at school, Patrick drove to his house, dug out his passport, and then he drove to Yu-Na’s house. Stephane had jinxed the whole thing, he thought. It was getting too much like Hollywood. When she came to the door, she looked like she’d just gotten out of the shower and Patrick had to wonder if he’d caught her in the middle of a threesome, again. “Um, on the second thought...never mind.”
“Adam just left, I’m by myself now. What?”
“Want to go to France this weekend?”
“You’re kidding.”
Patrick pulled the tickets out of his pocket, “Nope. Stephane gave them to me. First class.”
For some reason, she threw her arms around him again and almost choked him to death, “Oh, my God! It’s just like the movies...can I have five minutes?”
.
It was exactly like the movies, so much so that it was almost scary. Although Patrick didn’t order anything alcoholic on the plane, he was proud of himself for knowing fifty percent of the champagnes on the wine list. Yu-Na leaned against his shoulder and grinned, “You’re going to take him back in France and it’s going to be absolutely beautiful. You guys are going to be in love forever.”
It was going to be absolutely beautiful and they were going to be in love forever.
Yeah, right.
.
(Or not.)
When they arrived in France though, it got extremely unromantic extremely fast. One, Patrick realized that he was broke, and two, he realized that he still spoke French funny. Maybe Brian had been nice enough not to tease him about that...or maybe there’d been too many things to tease about that his French hadn’t ranked too high on Brian’s list.
But somehow, they managed to get on the early morning train bound for Poitiers, and even though Yu-Na seemed endlessly fascinated by everything, Patrick was beginning to wish he hadn’t even bothered. After they got off at the station, he hoped they still had enough money for a cab. He really should have Googled French train ticket prices before he left.
“You’re quiet.”
Which was odd, because Patrick was never quiet. “This better works, because I’m broke. And you’re about broke.”
Yu-Na chewed on her lip and observed him from her seat, “You can’t fall out of love with a person that fast. Unless you’re weird, obviously, but I don’t think Monsieur is.”
.
Patrick seemed to remember a time when he’d stolen Yu-Na’s magazines to check his horoscope. What had the horoscope said? Today is your lucky day! Meet a handsome Virgo with family money, buy new lingerie! Be confident! Don’t screw it up. He didn’t know when Brian’s birthday was, and he certainly didn’t plan on buying lingerie any time soon, but the rest of that seemed accurate.
Good thing too, because the cab driver looked like he was about to stab something.
“What if he’s not home?” For the first time on this trip, Yu-Na actually sounded realistic. Good for her. “We’re totally screwed, right?”
“It’s early, he’s probably home...look, just stay here, flirt with the cab driver or something. I don’t know. I’m just going to go knock on the door and we’ll see what happens.”
But wow, this was intimidating. He suddenly missed Alban and Brian’s old apartment. This house wasn’t even a house. It looked to be at least three stories tall and it had a giant gate without a buzzer. Patrick had no idea how he was even going to hop the fence. He really should have paid more attention in P.E. Well, he had nothing to lose.
“Patrick, what are you doing?”
Brian. Crap. Patrick let go of the fence and felt arms catch him before he could fall. It really was Brian. Patrick suddenly could not breathe. “I’m...uh, trying to scale your gate. Obviously, it’s not working.”
“What are you doing here in front of my house?”
Patrick turned around so that he could stare at Brian in the face. It was the same Brian, completely gorgeous and sweating. He looked like he had just come from a run. “I, uh...”
The cab driver coughed loudly from his taxi.
This was not the way it was supposed to go,“...I wanted to ask you if you had any cash? Both Yu-Na and I are broke.”
Brian looked at him a long time before finally getting out his wallet with a mildly annoyed sigh, “How much?”
.
Brian’s mother scared Patrick. Really, she did. She reminded him of those prim Victorian ladies who were always stuck in last century. Brian’s house was also scary, every piece of furniture that he laid eyes on looked antique and expensive. He was way out of his league, but Patrick had already come too far, so fuck it. Although none of that explained why Brian was still absolutely shit at decorating.
Madame Joubert though, seemed to take an immediate liking to Yu-Na, and so it didn’t take long time for Yu-Na to land herself a grand tour of the house. Before she left, she turned and gave Patrick a not-so-secret wink.
“Was my address on the Internet?” Brian didn’t sound amused, but at least they were still talking and he wasn’t sending Patrick home on the first flight he could book. “Or did you hire a private investigator?”
Patrick looked down at his hands, “I had Stephane.”
At the mention of Stephane’s name, Brian’s face twisted into something painful. He gulped down the rest of his water and said, “Of course you did. Come with me.”
And of course, Patrick followed. He had a feeling that he always would.
.
Brian had a penchant for nice cars, and as they drove, Patrick couldn’t help but think that this was almost like back then. Somehow, everything seemed like such a long time ago. At last, Patrick offered, “...Bibi?”
“He was fond of nicknames, I was not. But then he never listens to me. I suppose he told you we met in Paris. My mother was good friends with his aunt. We spent five summers together,” Brian said all this, as if he were reciting a monologue. For Patrick, that made it slightly easier to listen to, but he doubted Brian was thinking of him.
“Just five?”
“Only five. We fucked for the last summer. As you can imagine, it ruined things.” Brian sounded so bitter, Patrick thought he could almost taste it on the tip of his own tongue. “Just like that...I became one of his summer flings. That was all. He even said so, for himself. That he was always going to be like that. That he was destined. I told him, I told him it was absolutely absurd.” Brian laughed, although none of this was funny.
“But Stephane believes it to be true, it is the only reason he is in love with impossible love stories and Hollywood. It’s the only thing he can fall in love with.”
They’d stopped in front of a bistro that looked entirely too cinematic. But Brian got out, and Patrick followed him. They ordered drinks, Patrick hadn’t exactly listened to what Brian had ordered for him, since he was too busy trying to piece together everything so it made sense. He took a sip of his drink when it came, and was surprised because it tasted oddly familiar.
“This...”
“Lemonade with passion fruit extract and honey.” Brian’s lips twitched, “It probably tastes more French than you are used to. I still do not know why you like it so much.”
Brian remembered his favorite drink. It was only a small gesture, but it meant close to the world. Patrick bit his lip to keep from grinning too widely. “You don’t know much about me.” Brian had said that once, too.
Brian opened his mouth, “Patrick--”
“No, you weren’t finished.”
“You want to understand me that badly?”
“I chased you to Poitiers and I went broke. I have to accomplish something,” Patrick bit on the end of his straw.
Brian rolled his eyes, but continued anyway,“I started to write a book about my summers with Stephane,” he laced his hands together on the table. “I don’t even know why. The story seemed perfect, like it could not be true because it was perfect. It was to be a gift to him. In turn, he bought me a dog, and gave me a portrait. Blade died last summer.”
Patrick couldn’t think of anything to say, so he concentrated on worming his hands between Brian’s own. Only when he succeeded, he said, “That doesn’t explain why you broke up with me.” Broke up, Patrick cringed. Shouldn’t have said that, maybe. Though he thought he did understand a couple of things.
For once, Brian didn’t laugh at him. He looked at their hands, and then he looked at Patrick’s face.
Finally, he said, “What if I end up like Stephane?”
Patrick was getting that strange feeling in his stomach again, he held Brian’s hands tighter, although he didn’t think it made any difference. “I don’t think you are anything like him. Even if you try, you’re too much of an ass.” Stephane had bought him first class tickets to France, Patrick decided that he could eventually forgive him.
“I know I will fall out of love with you. But I just do not know when.” Brian’s eyes grew clouded with something dark, “And regardless of what you might think, I am being serious.”
So Brian did. Love him, or something. Patrick’s face felt like it was about to split again. He quickly looked away, “You do not always have to. I mean, half the time, all I really want to do is choke you. Because you’re exasperating. Seriously, you and all your crap furniture and...” Abruptly, Patrick cut himself off. Brian was giving him that look again.
“Did I make my point?”
“You find me exasperating, but apparently I’m ridiculously good-looking so you can hardly resist me?”
“Brian.”
“I’m joking,” But the smile that Brian gave him was still deeply wistful. Finally, he leaned across the table and kissed him. “Mostly.”
Patrick really wanted to hit him, but the kiss, however light and fleeting, left him dizzy and lazy. He’d pay Brian back for that later, “I don’t think you’ll ever be a romantic even if you pay for the brain cells necessary.”
“Tell me where to send the cheque and we can test the theory.”
Now it was Patrick’s turn to roll his eyes, “You are so...anyway, I don’t think I’d like you as a romantic.” He shook his head, “You might lose your sense of ‘humor,’ I’d probably miss it.”
“You are so young.”
“And you’re so prehistoric that I really don’t know what to do with you.”
Brian should really stop rolling his eyes; it got old after a while, “This sounds like a promising beginning for a relationship, does it not? Absolutely brilliant.”
Patrick grinned and leaned across the table to lick a slow circle around Brian’s mouth; when he’d pulled back, he was glad to see that the man’s eyes had gone out of focus for a moment. “Of course it’s brilliant. Yu-Na thinks that we’re going to be in love forever. She’s never been wrong.”
(Obviously, Brian rolled his eyes.)
.
Patrick didn’t know how much he’d missed the sex until he’d partaken in it, and the answer was unsurprising -- a lot.
Of course, being crammed into the back of Brian’s car in what could very well be considered a back alley was just sleazy and left a lot to be desired. But he would complain later, after he was conscious again.
After a moment, Brian shifted and leaned up to kiss him. Also unsurprisingly, Patrick’s brain immediately turned to mush all over again. “One question?”
Patrick nodded.
“You chose not to betray me. Pourquoi?”
“Because I’m stupid, probably. And young. And all the things you apparently hate so much.” Patrick couldn’t quite look at him. He himself still didn’t know completely why.
Brian was silent, “If I’d truly hated all of those things, I do not think either of us wold be here. You know that much about me.”
He was sure his face was red, so Patrick didn’t trust himself to look, “...When was it, for you?” He mumbled against Brian’s chest. Brian was so ridiculously good-looking.
There was another long silence, and it stretched so long that Patrick had to lift his head and look, “Brian?”
“The day...the day you told me au revoir, what day was that?”
Patrick had to pause and think a moment, “One hundred, I’m positive.” And because Brian totally deserved it, he smirked and added, “I fucked myself with my fingers to...celebrate.” (What celebration? He’d bawled, Brian didn’t need to know that.)
Brian’s breath hitched, “We need to celebrate properly, perhaps tonight. That is, if you’d like. Nice hotel room, champagne, et cetera.”
“I’d like,” Patrick smiled against his mouth. “You have no idea how much I would like.”
.
End
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<< 1 << 2
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(+I can't believe I wrote 22.5k in a week. It was so intense! Hugs and kisses and Internet cookies for all you AMAZING anons over at skatingkink . It warms the cockles of my youthful heart to know that Chiddybear has shippers :) :). I know I've already said this before, but you guys are amazing and have restored my faith in this fandom. Thanks so much for coming along for the ride!)
The first day that Patrick met Stephane face to face, it’d been raining. A Friday, day seventy-five. Actually, it’d started out as a pretty good day, the rain aside. They started out their routine backwards. A bath first, and then sex. And then Brian realized that he had an annoying knot on his lower back and Patrick was trying to concentrate on that, except Brian believed in multitasking, so he was also trying to teach Patrick how to properly stick one’s tongue down one’s throat.
Wasn’t working well, who the fuck cared.
Then the buzzer rang. Brian wasn’t the type to have visitors though, in fact, Patrick was pretty sure he was the only visitor.
“Yes, Alban? Who is it?”
“He says he is a friend of yours, Stephane?”
Stephane. Suddenly, Patrick felt cold. The fact he was naked probably had something to do with it, but it was more the name. He could see that Brian had stilled too. He was wearing an expression Patrick had never seen before. “Fine, let him up.”
Stephane. Stephane. Even the name sounded stuck-up enough so that Patrick hated it after repeating it in his head too many times. “I guess I’ll have to get dressed?”
“I don’t think Stephane is going to care if we are undressed or not.” Brian shrugged Patrick’s arms off of him, "But for propriety’s sake, find a shirt or something.”
.
Stephane turned out to be the young man in the portrait. There was no mistaking it, because the first thing after Stephane had said, after he had dropped his wet coat onto Brian’s clean carpet, was, “You kept this old thing? That’s so unlike you.”
“How do you know I kept it for you and not Blade?”
“Touche,” Stephane looked at Brian, and then he settled his eyes on Patrick, who had gotten completely dressed because he was suddenly self-conscious. In his own right, Stephane was also ridiculously good looking. “Who’s this, Bibi?”
Bibi. Stephane even had a nickname for Brian, and the said nickname made Brian red in the face.
“Don’t call me that, I grew out of it.”
“You grow out of so many things so fast,” Stephane shook his head, looking perfectly regretful. “And yet you have not changed.”
Patrick had the feeling he was intruding on a very private conversation, but he suddenly didn’t know how to leave.
Brian saved him, “I’m going to drive Patrick back to school,” he said tightly. “After I come back, you and I will talk.”
“Oui, I suppose we inevitably must.” Stephane looked Patrick over with some interest again, “Your name is Patrick?”
“Yes,” Patrick looked away. Brian had left him alone and defenseless against Stephane, (presumably to find pants) but that was hardly an excuse. “You are his...” ex-boyfriend? Patrick had never thought of himself and Brian as boyfriends, but he supposed that was what they were now. Unless they were still student and teacher, just fucking on the side.
“I am his friend,” Stephane smiled, and then his smile faded when he saw the hard look on Patrick’s face, “Or at least,” he corrected himself with a gesture of his hands, “I can wish I still were.”
Brian came back out of his bedroom, dressed, “Come, Patrick, we are going now.” To Stephane, he said, “I have no chocolates, please do not destroy my kitchen looking for them.”
.
Patrick found that he had nothing to say. Even though evidently Brian was waiting for him to say something. If this had been some dramatic movie, he’d have plenty of things to say. But he couldn’t.
“Patrick.”
“Stephane...the guy that was your first, yeah?” The words tasted sour, Patrick practically spit them out.
Brian shrugged, “Yes, but that doesn’t mean anything. Just because he was first.”
“You were my first,” Patrick said. “You don’t just not mean anything.” He didn’t even have any idea what he was trying to do; all he really knew was that he was failing miserably at it.
“But I am not you. You are the romantic, I am not. And Stephane...” Brian trailed off and reached to cup his face, “Nothing is going to change, Patrick.” He kissed him, slow, gentle. Things were already different.
.
“Well, when a guy’s ridiculously good looking, he automatically comes with a good-looking ex, that’s a big ‘duh,’” Yu-Na looked at him. “Patrick, look at me.”
“I feel so stupid. And awkward, and jealous, but mostly stupid.” Patrick had already banged his head against Yu-Na’s coffee table so many times that he knew he had the bruises to prove it. “I’m stupid, tell me I’m stupid.”
He’d never been this messed up when Adam asked out Yu-Na. Which only meant that this mess with Brian was even worse than he’d bargained for. What did he ever see (and still see) in this guy? She sighed a noisy sigh, “You’re so pathetic.”
“I’d rather be stupid, but thanks anyway.”
“I meant it, you know.” Yu-Na pulled the scrunchie she was wearing out of her hair so that she could brush through her hair with her fingers. “You’re pathetic. He already said he liked you.”
“Did not, when?”
“Joubert said nothing’s going to change,” Yu-Na shrugged. “And the Stephane guy’s probably going to be gone soon anyway. You say you love him, can’t you trust him?”
(Now that Patrick heard it out loud, it sounded so cheesy.)
Because. Because Patrick didn’t know why. At the end of the day, he had only his own insecurities to blame. After all, if he’d been Yu-Na, he would not have been so quick to forgive Adam and himself for the time in the coat closet. “He and I are totally different people. It doesn’t...Yu-Na, he’s a teacher. Look, maybe it’s a sign or something.”
She sighed again, “Make up your mind. Break up with him, suffer through it, whatever. Your forehead is bleeding.”
.
Maybe Patrick was reading too much into things; when he thought about it, Brian had seemed like he actively disliked Stephane. And Yu-Na had to be right, Stephane wasn’t going to stay long; if his coat was of any indication, he wasn’t even staying over at Brian’s apartment. Things were going to go back to normal soon. Patrick had to be optimistic about this.
Sunday came, and he’d paced his room about fifty times before grabbing his keys and driving over to Joubert’s apartment. Alban had the strangest expression, as if he already knew Patrick was chasing after something fleeting and futile and didn’t have the heart to tell him.
“Mr. Joubert and his friend went out a while ago. I don’t know when they’ll be back.”
.
It was Monday. And Patrick somehow dragged himself to school, went through all the motions (probably failed a chemistry lab, bombed a calculus test by not taking it -- he’d been asleep.) But he’d met Yu-Na by the lockers right before French and he’d told her, “I’m not going.”
“So you’re just running away.”
“I just don’t -- can’t deal with it right now.” He didn’t even know what he was trying to deal with. Patrick slammed his locker shut, making everyone in the hallway stare in his direction. Great, now he was even more weird than he already was. Great. “Yu-Na...”
“Drama queen,” Yu-Na just poked him in the forehead, “Do whatever, don’t go, but Mao said he wasn’t there this morning.”
“I am not a queen,” Patrick hissed. “Wait, what?”
“Mao has French first thing in the morning, remember? She said that the old hag lady was back.”
.
Always prone to bad and hasty judgment, Patrick drove to the apartment again. This time, Alban did not even try to hide his exasperation.
“Mr. Joubert made it clear I wasn’t to let you in.”
“He did not.”
“Yes, he did,” Alban hit the button anyway. “I will prove it to you. Mr. Joubert?”
“It is Patrick?” Came Brian’s voice, and damn, even while Patrick was determined to be pissed off, the voice still did things. “Tell him to go home.”
Alban’s look said, ‘I told you so.’
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell what the fuck is going on.”
Somehow, Alban didn’t look too surprised at his theatrics. He just relayed the message minus the obscenities, “I don’t think Patrick will be going anywhere.”
There was a long silence, and Patrick thought he heard scuffle over the speakers, Brian getting dressed? “Fine, fine, if it is what he wants. Let him up.”
.
Brian seemed to be by himself, but he didn’t seem happy to see Patrick at all, “I should have known that you were going to be stubborn.”
Patrick breathed in deeply, “You,” he reached out his hands, if he tried to choke Brian, he doubted he’d get far. “What are you doing?” He dropped his hands.
“What am I doing?” Brian was laughing, but the laugh was bitter and the sound made Patrick’s head hurt. “You always want to know, what I am doing. You...you are never content with what I tell you. Why must you be such a troublesome child?”
A child, And not just any child, a troublesome child. Now Patrick just really wanted to hit him. Except that Brian caught his wrist before he could get anywhere close to his face. “I am not a...” He wasn’t even going to dignify the insult by saying it. “Brian, I just...”
“You see, Patrick?” Brian had this look on his face, Patrick didn’t know where he’d seen it before, the expression was too full of feeling and not like Brian at all. And then Brian sighed and made a gesture, Patrick remembered where he’d seen it.
He’d seen it from Stephane.
“I am his friend...or at least, I can wish I still were.”
“You are fucking him, aren’t you? Just like that.” There didn’t seem to be any other explanation, and Brian wasn’t exactly jumping to correct Patrick’s misconceptions. He only said:
“No, I’m not.”
For obvious reasons, Patrick hardly believed him. “Convince me,” he knew his voice was shaking again. “Please, convince me.” Yu-Na was right about that too, he was pathetic. Patrick wished he could hate her for being right about everything.
“I doubt that you will be convinced by anything I have to say,” Brian’s voice was suddenly so heavy and old that Patrick had to look twice to make sure that it was the same person standing there speaking. “This...this is what I warned you about. But of course you are too stubborn to listen to me.”
The back of Patrick’s eyes suddenly felt dangerously hot, as if he was close to crying but he knew he couldn’t. He swallowed hard, “I’ll listen now,” He reached for Brian’s hands and held them. “If you’ll tell me, of course I’ll listen.”
Brian pulled one of his hands out of Patrick’s death grip and instead, touched his face. Patrick had learned that Brian touching his face was a sign of honesty, “I am sorry. Know that I mean it.”
“...What are you sorry for?” Patrick couldn’t speak any louder than a whisper.
“Everything that I have ever done to make you love me,” now Brian was smiling a smile so wistful that it scrambled Patrick’s insides. He didn’t even know how to interpret the feeling. “You have loved me, haven’t you? A long time.”
“I realized it eighteen days ago, exactly. But I probably...” Patrick’s face felt warm, “...a long time before that. What are you saying?”
Brian’s eyes flickered, “You kept track.”
“I like numbers,” Patrick said. Somehow, he managed a faint grin, “On the calendar in my room, I mark down every day.”
“I see, and what do you write down? Today, day twenty, I fucked Monsieur? I hope you at least wrote it in French.”
Patrick’s face was now burning hot, but he felt hopeful. It almost sounded like everything was back to normal. “No! I wouldn’t...I mean, I just make a mark. With a pen. Besides, I hide the calendar.”
Suddenly, the door opened, “Bibi? Where do you want your keys?”
Patrick froze again. Stephane had Brian’s keys? He was turning even more red, he thought. Except this time, the flush to his face was one of humiliation and not embarrassment. He tried to glare at Brian, but ended up not even able to look at him.
“Just leave them by the door.”
“Or perhaps not, I’m interrupting something?” Patrick heard footsteps start and stop. “Of course I am, hello, Patrick. I’ll just be leaving, again.”
Patrick wanted to say something along the lines of, “Fuck you.” but couldn’t manage that either. Instead, he stepped out between Brian and the wall and brushed past Stephane without looking at him. “No, it’s okay, stay. I was just leaving.”
“Patrick,” Brian’s voice was strained.
The voice made his head hurt, Patrick knew he had mixed his shoes up and therefore had the wrong shoe on each foot, but he was in such a hurry to leave. “Shut up, Brian.”
.
That night, Patrick fucked himself with his fingers in the shower. He might have almost bawled. But no one was there to see so he’d never have to own up to it. There was at least that.
.
Patrick faked a cold for a good two days before his mother took his temperature, pronounced it normal, and then just stood there.
“Okay, fine, I’ll go to school tomorrow. Could you please just go away now?”
His mother just sat down on the edge of his bed and looked at him until Patrick flinched and looked away, “I think it’s time for you to tell me, Patrick.”
But what could he tell her? That he’d been fucking his ridiculously good-looking French teacher for the past ninety days, had fallen in love with him, and now had his heart broken because a ridiculously good-looking ex-boyfriend was back in town. His mother was understanding, but he knew he was just pushing his luck here.
“Mom.” That made him sound seven years old.
“Patrick.”
Finally, Patrick heaved a sigh and sat up. He’d picked up his stubbornness from her, he knew that much, “Two things.”
“I’m listening.”
He inhaled, then exhaled, then, “Mom, I’m um,” (Maybe he really should have called Yu-Na beforehand and have her tell him how stupid this whole thing was. That’d convince him to keep his mouth shut. Shit.) “I’m pretty sure that I’m gay.”
The room was so still, Patrick was almost positive that she had stopped breathing, “Mom?”
“Oh, Patrick,” She finally spoke, letting out a rush of air. “Come here.”
This was his mother telling him to “come here,” but Patrick heard Brian’s voice in the back of his head and his eyes felt hot again. He all but collapsed into her arms, once again regressing back another ten years. Patrick also might have hiccuped, but he was not going to cry.
“It’s okay,” she said finally. “It’s all right.”
No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t fine, it wasn’t okay. Patrick had been telling the truth here, but he didn’t know how he could continue to be honest. A part of him definitely hated Brian now, but there was that other part of him that was even more stubborn. If he’d come out and said it, Brian wouldn’t have a job anymore, he’d probably be arrested, tried. Of course, Patrick was seventeen and on all technicalities legal (enough), but still. What would people even think? It wouldn’t just affect Brian, it’d affect him too.
“Patrick, honey?”
He mumbled something into her shoulder.
“Patrick, what is the second thing?”
”I’m sleeping with my French teacher, I love him, my heart is broken.” Finally, he pulled back and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. Yup, definitely wet, which meant Patrick could not look at her.
Patrick couldn’t do it.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to fall in love again.” Maybe once upon a time, Brian had thought that too. “It hurts too much.”
For a moment, Patrick truly wondered if he meant that. He was more like Brian than he thought. His mother looked at him, and he couldn’t decipher anything on her face. But at least she didn’t ask any more questions. She just hugged him again and when he finally broke down and started bawling, she said nothing.
Patrick had never really realized how much he loved his mother.
.
The next day he went to school. Patrick probably still looked like he got ran over by a truck, but all Yu-Na really said was, “I’m really sorry.”
“Is he...is he here today?” Patrick hoped not, but he was always the one with terrible luck.
“Mao saw him this morning. So yeah, I guess.”
.
When he walked into the classroom, Brian didn’t look at him. There was no smirk, no “Bonjour, Patrick, please stand up so everyone can see that you have an erection.” Okay, so Brian had never really said that, but Patrick was positive that he’d thought it more than once. Just silence.
Which was fine. Patrick didn’t care, at all.
It was odd though, sitting through French class without his usual problems. Patrick supposed being still miserable beyond belief had something to do with it.
He tried to pick out clues that might give away how miserable Brian was, but aside from assigning five more pages of homework than he usually did, there wasn’t anything.
Still, Patrick was stupid. He had a feeling he was always going to be stupid. And besides, since he was still without a hard-on to worry about, perhaps Brian could take him seriously, for once. He waited until everyone was gone, like usual, and walked up to Brian’s desk. Brian seemed to grading last week’s tests and he was slashing through the answers with red ink. Patrick saw a lot of sixties and seventies.
“What’d I get?”
Brian’s hand had trembled and stilled. Patrick knew he’d imagined it, “What you usually get.” He thumbed through the stack and pulled out a paper near the bottom.
Beside where Patrick had scrawled his name, Brian had written, 110, A+ .
“You can keep it. Did you need something else?”
At least Brian wasn’t teasing him about needing to run to the men’s room. If he’d done something like that, Patrick would have lost it. He drummed his fingers on the desk for a few moments, and then he looked down at his shoes.
“One question.”
“I reserve the right not to answer.”
On the latest paper, Brian had marked 83, B. Adam’s paper. Patrick wondered if he was the only one passing this class.
“You know that I love you.” Patrick was expecting to stumble all over the words, but somehow he managed to form a mostly coherent sentence, “I want to know if you’d ever even considered loving me.”
Brian put down his pen and looked up at him, “You are so...” he faltered, for whatever reason. he didn’t finish. Patrick had never known Brian to not finish a sentence. “If you must know so badly. The answer is no. No, I have not.”
Just as he thought. But now Patrick knew it, and he’d never known that this sort of pain was possible. “Good to know,” he turned to go, and then he stopped again. “I told my mother.”
Patrick thought he heard the pen drop again, “I suppose that means I no longer have a job.” Of course Patrick wasn’t expecting Brian to have a full-on freak out or anything, but a real reaction of some sort would have been nice.
“I just told her that you were right, that’s all. Au revoir, Monsieur.”
.
Since high school hallways were worse than news tabloids, Patrick supposed he’d been preoccupied thinking about other stuff to actually notice, but by the time he’d gotten out of calculus, it was impossible to miss. Conversations usually went like this:
“Hey, did you know that Monsieur Joubert quit?”
“I can’t believe that he quit...how’d you know?”
“I was in the office yesterday, I saw him hand in his resignation, Mr. Hamilton pitched a bitch fit about him not giving a week’s notice. I thought it was sort of hilarious.”
“Hamilton pitching a bitch fit? Dude, I’d pay serious cash. Did he throw anything?”
“I dunno, it’s not like I stayed...”
Brian had quit. Brian had quit. Brian had quit -- Patrick’s head was spinning. Of course Brian could have not believed him, and therefore he had quit out of self-preservation, but Brian always believed him. Patrick knew he never believed Brian, but it seemed that Brian had always believed him.
When he met up with Yu-Na by the lockers, she said, “Hey, d’you hear that Joubert quit?”
“Only about five million times between here and the calculus classroom,” Patrick was about to roll his eyes, but then he caught himself. That’d been something he had learned from Brian, “And why should I care?” He did care, he cared too much, but for once, he wanted to keep something from Yu-Na.
It only took her about ten seconds to call his bluff, “Did you, you know, report him?” Her voice dropped to a whisper.
Patrick bit his lip and concentrated on trying to find his Chemistry book in the avalanche of papers, so he didn’t have to look at her. “I couldn’t. I wanted to.”
Yu-Na had never voluntarily given him a hug before, but she suddenly jumped him and Patrick banged his head hard against his open locker door. He just wished he was in a position to appreciate it.
.
After school, he drove over to the apartment by habit. Alban gave him a long look.
“Last night, Mr. Joubert went to the airport. He said he was going back to France.”
“Alone?” No, impossible, Stephane was probably with him.
“Yes, alone.”
.
Patrick was officially torn between suffering a big headache, and continuing to be miserable. Nothing made sense. Brian had gone back to France, alone. Alban had said that Stephane hadn’t been part of the equation...or at least, that much could probably be assumed. One the one hand, it was probably a good thing that Brian had gone back to France, where Patrick couldn’t find him. But still, he suddenly missed him.
During dinner, his mother took one look at his face, and said, “Patrick, did something happen at school today?”
Here was another chance to betray Brian like he most certainly deserved to be betrayed. Still, he couldn’t do it. Patrick shrugged, “My French teacher randomly quit today. It was weird because he didn’t tell us anything.”
He quickly helped himself to more stir-fry. His mother said, “Oh...was he nice?”
Patrick almost choked, “He was kind of an ass, I’m glad he’s gone.”
Later, when he was upstairs and alone, Patrick still didn’t know what that said about him. Probably he was an idiot.
.
“You’re going to go with us on a date today,” Yu-Na hooked one arm through his and the other through Adam’s. “We miss you as a third-wheel.”
“You do?” Somehow, Patrick seriously doubted that.
“She wants to drag me to a chick flick,” Adam buried his face into his hands. “At least stay for the movie?”
Adam was Yu-Na’s boyfriend, which meant that at some point, he had to get used to watching chick flicks. But the fact that he was making a big deal out of it clearly meant that he could also tell that Patrick was in a rotten mood. Patrick was suddenly grateful for his friends.
It’d been two days since Brian quit and had gone back to France, and Patrick still had no idea how to deal with it properly. He’d even considered going to the library and checking out self-help books on how to get over a breakup. He doubted they had those though, for those particular problems, there were talk shows.
“I um, I probably shouldn’t. Isn’t that English essay monstrous?”
Yu-Na pouted at him, “Patrick, please? It’s Friday, starting your paper tomorrow morning won’t kill you. Besides, you need to get out more. Besides, how often do your parents leave for the weekend?”
Patrick’s parents never leave for the weekend, but apparently they’d picked this weekend to make use of free getaway tickets, even though his mother hadn’t wanted to. “As a third wheel?”
Yu-Na rolled her eyes, and instinctively, Patrick looked away. “As our friend, you ass.”
They’d reached the parking lot now, and Yu-Na dragged him over to her car, Patrick let himself be dragged. Maybe third wheeling dates between Yu-Na and Adam was the way to go. Until they got tired of it, anyway.
“Fine.”
“...Patrick, is that you?”
The voice that called his name was neither familiar nor strange, but Patrick still hated it. He turned to see Stephane waving at him.
Yu-Na was staring. Guess that was confirmation enough to think that Stephane was also gorgeous in his own right. “Patrick, you know this guy?”
“Um...sort of.”
But before he could bolt, Stephane had already walked over to them. “I’ve finally found you. Persistence can be a charm in itself, I think I have learned that...” he trailed off, then shook his head. “Can we speak?”
“Aren’t we speaking right now?”
Stephane opened his mouth and closed it again, “Please?”
Brian was back in France, presumably that was all Stephane’s fault. Patrick had nothing to say to him, “I have nothing to say to you.”
“I have a few things that need to be said to you,” Stephane didn’t back down. In fact, he grabbed Patrick’s free hand by the wrist and his fingers kind of reminded Patrick of Brian’s fingers. “Even if you despise me, I do not think you despise Bibi. Not yet.”
“Stop calling him that.”
Yu-Na suddenly put the two and two together and she relinquished Patrick’s arm and unlocked the doors to her car, “Actually, we’ll let you third wheel us another day. Bye, Patrick.”
Before Patrick could protest, they were gone. Yu-Na was going to die one day driving. He was sure of it.
Now it was just him and Stephane. And the only thing that Patrick could think about was how Brian evidently liked his boyfriends stubborn.
“I have always called him Bibi, I am sorry, it is just habit.” Stephane looked down at his shoes. “And you know I am going to stand here until you come with me.”
.
“How...did you know where to find me?”
Stephane also had a nice car, but of course Patrick was still partial towards Brian and his imported sports car. This one was probably rented. And it remained to be seen why Britney Spears was playing in the car, but Stephane turned that off before he looked over at Patrick.
“Bibi, I mean, Brian told me where. He said you were a student, and so I figured I’d try my luck. It would appear that I have no luck.”
“That makes two of us.”
Stephane looked at him for a long time, “Do you mind if I smoke?”
He’d already gotten out a cigarette and a lighter, Patrick just shrugged, “Do whatever you want.”
.
Stephane drove for a little while, before he randomly stopped the car on the side of the road and stared thoughtfully at his cigarette. It didn’t seem like he wanted to open the conversation, so Patrick coughed pointedly and said, “Brian picked up smoking from you.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, but he hates it when I smoke. I don’t do it quite as often as I once did,” Stephane sighed and tossed the joint out of the window. “Bibi went back to Poitiers.”
“I know,” said Patrick. “Why aren’t you with him?”
“We are not lovers, Patrick. There is no reason for me to go with him,” Stephane gave a slight snort, also reminiscent of Brian. “There, I have said it, if you do not trust him, trust me. I have no reason to lie.”
Okay, fine. So they weren’t fucking. But that still didn’t make any sense. But Patrick supposed he should have realized that long before. Nothing made any sense; nothing was ever simple when it came to Brian Joubert. “Why are you even here?” They could start with that. Maybe Stephane was different enough from Brian to try giving him a straight answer.
“I miss him.”
“I thought you said--” Patrick clenched his hands.
“We are not lovers, but you do not need to love someone to miss them,” Stephane said. “In ten years, you might understand that.”
“What’s that even supposed to mean?”
“Rien, it does not mean anything.”
They were all the same; Patrick wondered what it wold take for something to mean anything. Or maybe it was because they were French, or something. He would have to rethink any future trips to France, those people gave him headaches. “Both of you are so fucking French.”
Stephane’s mouth twitched, “I am not French, whether that’s a fortune or not, I’ve yet to decide. I think you mean ‘European.’”
“Just so you know, I was honestly trying to insult you,” Patrick said dryly. “What are you, then?”
“And I probably deserve it,” Stephane shrugged one shoulder. “I’m Swiss. I spent my summers in France when I was younger. I met Bibi in Paris.”
“He hates Paris.”
“Bibi grows up too fast,” Stephane rubbed his forehead. “But like I said, he never changes. It is a wish that I have though, that one day he learns to appreciate Paris. It is a beautiful city. Have you ever been?”
“No, and I don’t think I want to, not anymore.” Patrick was half expecting Stephane to pull out a pair of tickets to Paris. Because it always happened that way in the movies. But Stephane didn’t pull out anything. “What’d you want to tell me?”
“I fall in and out of love too quickly. I suspect I will always be like that. It was wrong of me to assume that Bibi would be the same way. Asking his forgiveness...it was stupid of me. I know that now.” Stephane closed his eyes and sighed. He took out another cigarette and lit it, inhaled deeply. “And that, is all I’m at liberty to say. The rest you must hear from Bibi himself, Patrick.”
“Brian’s in France,” Patrick said flatly. “My allowance doesn’t stretch that far.”
Now Stephane was grinning, he reached over for his bag and rummaged around before two tickets fell into Patrick’s lap, “I thought if I pulled them out too quickly, it would be too much like Hollywood. This flight leaves tonight.” He clapped Patrick on the shoulder, “I wish you luck.”
.
After Stephane dropped him off at school, Patrick drove to his house, dug out his passport, and then he drove to Yu-Na’s house. Stephane had jinxed the whole thing, he thought. It was getting too much like Hollywood. When she came to the door, she looked like she’d just gotten out of the shower and Patrick had to wonder if he’d caught her in the middle of a threesome, again. “Um, on the second thought...never mind.”
“Adam just left, I’m by myself now. What?”
“Want to go to France this weekend?”
“You’re kidding.”
Patrick pulled the tickets out of his pocket, “Nope. Stephane gave them to me. First class.”
For some reason, she threw her arms around him again and almost choked him to death, “Oh, my God! It’s just like the movies...can I have five minutes?”
.
It was exactly like the movies, so much so that it was almost scary. Although Patrick didn’t order anything alcoholic on the plane, he was proud of himself for knowing fifty percent of the champagnes on the wine list. Yu-Na leaned against his shoulder and grinned, “You’re going to take him back in France and it’s going to be absolutely beautiful. You guys are going to be in love forever.”
It was going to be absolutely beautiful and they were going to be in love forever.
Yeah, right.
.
(Or not.)
When they arrived in France though, it got extremely unromantic extremely fast. One, Patrick realized that he was broke, and two, he realized that he still spoke French funny. Maybe Brian had been nice enough not to tease him about that...or maybe there’d been too many things to tease about that his French hadn’t ranked too high on Brian’s list.
But somehow, they managed to get on the early morning train bound for Poitiers, and even though Yu-Na seemed endlessly fascinated by everything, Patrick was beginning to wish he hadn’t even bothered. After they got off at the station, he hoped they still had enough money for a cab. He really should have Googled French train ticket prices before he left.
“You’re quiet.”
Which was odd, because Patrick was never quiet. “This better works, because I’m broke. And you’re about broke.”
Yu-Na chewed on her lip and observed him from her seat, “You can’t fall out of love with a person that fast. Unless you’re weird, obviously, but I don’t think Monsieur is.”
.
Patrick seemed to remember a time when he’d stolen Yu-Na’s magazines to check his horoscope. What had the horoscope said? Today is your lucky day! Meet a handsome Virgo with family money, buy new lingerie! Be confident! Don’t screw it up. He didn’t know when Brian’s birthday was, and he certainly didn’t plan on buying lingerie any time soon, but the rest of that seemed accurate.
Good thing too, because the cab driver looked like he was about to stab something.
“What if he’s not home?” For the first time on this trip, Yu-Na actually sounded realistic. Good for her. “We’re totally screwed, right?”
“It’s early, he’s probably home...look, just stay here, flirt with the cab driver or something. I don’t know. I’m just going to go knock on the door and we’ll see what happens.”
But wow, this was intimidating. He suddenly missed Alban and Brian’s old apartment. This house wasn’t even a house. It looked to be at least three stories tall and it had a giant gate without a buzzer. Patrick had no idea how he was even going to hop the fence. He really should have paid more attention in P.E. Well, he had nothing to lose.
“Patrick, what are you doing?”
Brian. Crap. Patrick let go of the fence and felt arms catch him before he could fall. It really was Brian. Patrick suddenly could not breathe. “I’m...uh, trying to scale your gate. Obviously, it’s not working.”
“What are you doing here in front of my house?”
Patrick turned around so that he could stare at Brian in the face. It was the same Brian, completely gorgeous and sweating. He looked like he had just come from a run. “I, uh...”
The cab driver coughed loudly from his taxi.
This was not the way it was supposed to go,“...I wanted to ask you if you had any cash? Both Yu-Na and I are broke.”
Brian looked at him a long time before finally getting out his wallet with a mildly annoyed sigh, “How much?”
.
Brian’s mother scared Patrick. Really, she did. She reminded him of those prim Victorian ladies who were always stuck in last century. Brian’s house was also scary, every piece of furniture that he laid eyes on looked antique and expensive. He was way out of his league, but Patrick had already come too far, so fuck it. Although none of that explained why Brian was still absolutely shit at decorating.
Madame Joubert though, seemed to take an immediate liking to Yu-Na, and so it didn’t take long time for Yu-Na to land herself a grand tour of the house. Before she left, she turned and gave Patrick a not-so-secret wink.
“Was my address on the Internet?” Brian didn’t sound amused, but at least they were still talking and he wasn’t sending Patrick home on the first flight he could book. “Or did you hire a private investigator?”
Patrick looked down at his hands, “I had Stephane.”
At the mention of Stephane’s name, Brian’s face twisted into something painful. He gulped down the rest of his water and said, “Of course you did. Come with me.”
And of course, Patrick followed. He had a feeling that he always would.
.
Brian had a penchant for nice cars, and as they drove, Patrick couldn’t help but think that this was almost like back then. Somehow, everything seemed like such a long time ago. At last, Patrick offered, “...Bibi?”
“He was fond of nicknames, I was not. But then he never listens to me. I suppose he told you we met in Paris. My mother was good friends with his aunt. We spent five summers together,” Brian said all this, as if he were reciting a monologue. For Patrick, that made it slightly easier to listen to, but he doubted Brian was thinking of him.
“Just five?”
“Only five. We fucked for the last summer. As you can imagine, it ruined things.” Brian sounded so bitter, Patrick thought he could almost taste it on the tip of his own tongue. “Just like that...I became one of his summer flings. That was all. He even said so, for himself. That he was always going to be like that. That he was destined. I told him, I told him it was absolutely absurd.” Brian laughed, although none of this was funny.
“But Stephane believes it to be true, it is the only reason he is in love with impossible love stories and Hollywood. It’s the only thing he can fall in love with.”
They’d stopped in front of a bistro that looked entirely too cinematic. But Brian got out, and Patrick followed him. They ordered drinks, Patrick hadn’t exactly listened to what Brian had ordered for him, since he was too busy trying to piece together everything so it made sense. He took a sip of his drink when it came, and was surprised because it tasted oddly familiar.
“This...”
“Lemonade with passion fruit extract and honey.” Brian’s lips twitched, “It probably tastes more French than you are used to. I still do not know why you like it so much.”
Brian remembered his favorite drink. It was only a small gesture, but it meant close to the world. Patrick bit his lip to keep from grinning too widely. “You don’t know much about me.” Brian had said that once, too.
Brian opened his mouth, “Patrick--”
“No, you weren’t finished.”
“You want to understand me that badly?”
“I chased you to Poitiers and I went broke. I have to accomplish something,” Patrick bit on the end of his straw.
Brian rolled his eyes, but continued anyway,“I started to write a book about my summers with Stephane,” he laced his hands together on the table. “I don’t even know why. The story seemed perfect, like it could not be true because it was perfect. It was to be a gift to him. In turn, he bought me a dog, and gave me a portrait. Blade died last summer.”
Patrick couldn’t think of anything to say, so he concentrated on worming his hands between Brian’s own. Only when he succeeded, he said, “That doesn’t explain why you broke up with me.” Broke up, Patrick cringed. Shouldn’t have said that, maybe. Though he thought he did understand a couple of things.
For once, Brian didn’t laugh at him. He looked at their hands, and then he looked at Patrick’s face.
Finally, he said, “What if I end up like Stephane?”
Patrick was getting that strange feeling in his stomach again, he held Brian’s hands tighter, although he didn’t think it made any difference. “I don’t think you are anything like him. Even if you try, you’re too much of an ass.” Stephane had bought him first class tickets to France, Patrick decided that he could eventually forgive him.
“I know I will fall out of love with you. But I just do not know when.” Brian’s eyes grew clouded with something dark, “And regardless of what you might think, I am being serious.”
So Brian did. Love him, or something. Patrick’s face felt like it was about to split again. He quickly looked away, “You do not always have to. I mean, half the time, all I really want to do is choke you. Because you’re exasperating. Seriously, you and all your crap furniture and...” Abruptly, Patrick cut himself off. Brian was giving him that look again.
“Did I make my point?”
“You find me exasperating, but apparently I’m ridiculously good-looking so you can hardly resist me?”
“Brian.”
“I’m joking,” But the smile that Brian gave him was still deeply wistful. Finally, he leaned across the table and kissed him. “Mostly.”
Patrick really wanted to hit him, but the kiss, however light and fleeting, left him dizzy and lazy. He’d pay Brian back for that later, “I don’t think you’ll ever be a romantic even if you pay for the brain cells necessary.”
“Tell me where to send the cheque and we can test the theory.”
Now it was Patrick’s turn to roll his eyes, “You are so...anyway, I don’t think I’d like you as a romantic.” He shook his head, “You might lose your sense of ‘humor,’ I’d probably miss it.”
“You are so young.”
“And you’re so prehistoric that I really don’t know what to do with you.”
Brian should really stop rolling his eyes; it got old after a while, “This sounds like a promising beginning for a relationship, does it not? Absolutely brilliant.”
Patrick grinned and leaned across the table to lick a slow circle around Brian’s mouth; when he’d pulled back, he was glad to see that the man’s eyes had gone out of focus for a moment. “Of course it’s brilliant. Yu-Na thinks that we’re going to be in love forever. She’s never been wrong.”
(Obviously, Brian rolled his eyes.)
.
Patrick didn’t know how much he’d missed the sex until he’d partaken in it, and the answer was unsurprising -- a lot.
Of course, being crammed into the back of Brian’s car in what could very well be considered a back alley was just sleazy and left a lot to be desired. But he would complain later, after he was conscious again.
After a moment, Brian shifted and leaned up to kiss him. Also unsurprisingly, Patrick’s brain immediately turned to mush all over again. “One question?”
Patrick nodded.
“You chose not to betray me. Pourquoi?”
“Because I’m stupid, probably. And young. And all the things you apparently hate so much.” Patrick couldn’t quite look at him. He himself still didn’t know completely why.
Brian was silent, “If I’d truly hated all of those things, I do not think either of us wold be here. You know that much about me.”
He was sure his face was red, so Patrick didn’t trust himself to look, “...When was it, for you?” He mumbled against Brian’s chest. Brian was so ridiculously good-looking.
There was another long silence, and it stretched so long that Patrick had to lift his head and look, “Brian?”
“The day...the day you told me au revoir, what day was that?”
Patrick had to pause and think a moment, “One hundred, I’m positive.” And because Brian totally deserved it, he smirked and added, “I fucked myself with my fingers to...celebrate.” (What celebration? He’d bawled, Brian didn’t need to know that.)
Brian’s breath hitched, “We need to celebrate properly, perhaps tonight. That is, if you’d like. Nice hotel room, champagne, et cetera.”
“I’d like,” Patrick smiled against his mouth. “You have no idea how much I would like.”
.
End
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(+I can't believe I wrote 22.5k in a week. It was so intense! Hugs and kisses and Internet cookies for all you AMAZING anons over at skatingkink . It warms the cockles of my youthful heart to know that Chiddybear has shippers :) :). I know I've already said this before, but you guys are amazing and have restored my faith in this fandom. Thanks so much for coming along for the ride!)