New Story: EQUALS 2/?
EQUALS…
Author: Scotianova
Beta-fairy: Carol38
Disclaimer: I don't own them and writing about them is just for fun.
Genre: A story about different shades of love
Pairing: Reid and Luke - as always
Characters: Reid Oliver, Luke Snyder, Ravi Oliver, Ruby Oliver II, Liath Orbanns, Damien Grimaldi, Henry Coleman, Kathryn Peretti, Dustin Donovan, Paul Ryan, Holly McLean…
Warning: none so far
Rating: sexual contents
Summary: On the surface they couldn’t be more different from every point of view, but if someone just looks closely at them…
AN1 : This is an attempt to invert some facts and whereabouts but I hope the character drawing is plausible- somehow at least ;)
AN2: I used the name Ruby in a story once before but I like it so much, that I named even two characters after it this time.
AN3: Finally I got this out - I hope you're going to enjoy it!
2.
Waking up to a sunny day in Paris - what could he crave more?
Luke opened the French-balcony-doors as wide as possible to let in the not so fresh air circling the city of Paris, but he had to smell it and to listen to the sounds of this city he loved so much. There were a few reasons why he favored the French métropole, the prime reason was that people around there just didn’t care who he was, so he could have a private life here.
He wasn’t a fluent speaker, but he understood most of it and sometimes he admired those French people who were dedicated to their language and refused to use so called Anglicisms. He chuckled because sometimes he also found it a bit strange when they called and PC “ordinateur”. In the end languages were vivid, progressing systems and nobody would prevent them from being influenced by other languages. Whatever-each to their own. Anyway there were a few languages he just loved to listen to, such as French, Italian, and Russian. Those were languages with a certain melody in them he didn’t get tired of listening to. He’d had an affair with a Russian writer once and he could have gotten off only from bathing in the withdrawn man’s whispers. Thinking of him and Fionn he wondered if he had a thing for reluctant men in general. Don’t go there - not today, Snyder, he reprimanded himself and left the window ajar before taking in one deep breath again.
Luke prided himself being a cosmopolitan regarding manners and customs and lifestyles.
He looked forward to the day ahead. He would have “un petit-déjeuner” at his favorite café because the place felt a bit like home and he needed this at least from time to time, then he would meet Mr. Leprise to talk about his newest novel, afterwards he’d stroll through ‘Les Halles” *(AN: “Les Halles” was the huge central market of Paris for centuries, today it’s turned into a green space and a shopping center)* after that he would have an extended walk in the park to think about his next moves. He knew it was time to spend some time in Oakdale, to reconnect with his family, but unfortunately he didn’t feel ready for that.
He missed his siblings, his grandmothers. Well, with Lucinda he met regularly all over the world, but all the others he hadn’t seen in a very long time. Such a long time had passed and yet he still couldn’t deal with his mother having taken Noah’s side back then. She was his mother and that meant she was supposed to be on his side of the fence, but she wasn’t. He’d absolutely known though, that she would be hurt a lot with him turning to Damien for help when he hadn’t known anymore where left and right had been. Well, Damien had helped, he’d come running, overlooked his messed up state and grabbed him by the stacking swivel and literally shoved him into rehab, locked the door and didn’t let him out until he was sober again and on the way to recovery. He thanked God every day that he hadn’t become an alcoholic back then but still he allowed himself to enjoy a glass of vine only once a while.
There was a lot going on in his mind but he was willed to have a good day.
After showering he stood in front of the mirror and examined himself. He knew he was a handsome man, maybe more than he had been ten years ago. He’d strengthened, he wasn’t the lean man-boy anymore, he didn’t work out regularly, but walked a lot and he’d never had been a very good eater which came in handy now that he was getting older. He’d developed a simple philosophy; he enjoyed what he liked but never beyond measure. So his face looked still youngish, but the dark-blond stubble adorning his face made him look manly and he liked that. Sometimes he looked at himself and wondered what other guys saw in him. Right now he himself saw a freshly showered yet tired looking man in his early thirties. Sometimes he dressed up, since Damien had taught him the benefits of stunning looks and exquisite cloths, and he was aware of being a tidbit, he was Luciano Grimaldi then, the spitting image of his father. And then there were days when he chose to be Luke Snyder, an ordinary guy wearing jeans and shirts and resembling the boy next door - he knew this was the way men like Fionn liked him most. But he was both; he was Luke Snyder and Luciano Grimaldi and since he’d made peace with the latter he was in a better place than before. He scrutinized himself and wondered what would have happened if he’d become Luke Snyder solely or Luciano Grimaldi.
To the world of authors and readers he was Luciano Grimaldi, to his family he’d always be Luke and to himself? Sometimes it seemed he still didn’t know who he actually was. Maybe that was the question of his life, maybe it was the riddle he had to solve. Maybe learning to know who they really are was a challenge facing many people.
He sighed, God he was such a moony sky-walker that it was a mystery to him that he made it through life.
It was hot strong coffee that he needed right now and some newspaper to inform himself of what had happened lately in his adopted hometown.
Checking his cupboard he went for a mixture of Luke Synder and Luciano Grimaldi today, meaning he wore a simple shirt, a ridiculously expensive light grey jacket combined with loosely fitting jeans and Alex Cooper’s.
He wondered if Stéphane was at the café, he liked the mostly grinning guy who always put two fresh, still warm brioches on his plate without him even asking. And actually Stéphane greeted him as if they’d met every day and not only every few months. So the day started in a good way, after a few minutes Stéphane had filled him in with the latest news and the progresses his three boys had been making. When Luke asked about the daily newspaper Stéphane winced a bit and bent down confidentially before he carefully placed today’s “Le Monde” down in front of him: “They are only a minority group you know. Don’t forget we legalized homosexuality in 1781 already!” “I know” Luke answered while he stared at the paper and was relieved when he detected a photo showing someone holding up a poster with written “….PAS DE FACHOS DANS NOS QUARTIERS!” (meaning; "no fascists in our quarters!"). Yes, thank God for people who stood up against bigotry.
But would that ever stop - people hating others because they didn’t fit their standards of “normality”?
He was a rich young American and couldn’t give a damn about what any self-proclaimed preservers of …what exactly?...did they even know themselves?...ranted. But there were so many insecure boys and girls out there not knowing how to deal with being “not straight” or men and women living in countries knowing the way they loved was proclaimed to be a crime. He shrugged, it was time to talk to Lucinda and consider if the foundation should start another project or to increase the donations to already running campaigns.
God, this wasn’t exactly what he wanted to have to think about this morning and he was grateful for Stéphane trying to distract him from his heavy thoughts.
“So how are you doing, Lucien?” Stéphane wanted to know. “What about a new love?”
“Sorry - there is nothing to tell.” Luke smiled in response and felt ashamed that he reduced Fionn to someone there was nothing to tell about. But what was he supposed to tell? That he’d bailed out again? That he abandoned a nice, loving man - again? He was just tired of good advice he didn’t listen to anyway.
“I don’t understand it, Lucien, you are such a treat for the eyes! I always wonder why they aren’t running after you!”
Luke only smiled since he knew the other man just wanted to cheer him up.
So he tried to relax and after he’d enjoyed his coffee and the delicious brioches he said goodbye to Stéphane and left for the “Éditions Gallimard”. The meeting went well; Monsieur Leprise was interested in the plot of his new novel so Luke left the office in a very good mood that lasted until he bumped into Mr. Papageno just as he was leaving a changing cubicle at his favorite clothiers. This was no way accidental anymore.
“What a surprise! Everywhere I step there is Mr. Canary!”
“Mr. Snyder, please could we have a word?”
What the hell? How come this guy knew his real name?
“What?”
“Yes, I have to talk to you - and would you please walk out with me?!”
“Mr. ...”
“Coleman, my name is Henry Coleman.”
“Mr. Coleman, I don’t know you and I surely won’t walk out with you!”
“Please, it’s an emergency!”
“If that’s so, then you can tell me here what all this is about!”
Mr. Coleman was fidgeting nervously meanwhile and Luke started to get angry. He hated weird ‘stalkers’.
But this wasn’t the end since suddenly Mr. Foxface entered the store and the bodyguard-type placed himself in the entrance as if he wanted to prevent Luke from leaving the shop.
What was this? An attempt to kidnap him? He’d really thought he’d left that kind of crazy events behind. Where had he to go to escape craziness? So he sighed, exhausted and almost a bit bored: “Look, tell me how much you want I’ll give it to you and everyone can go their own way!”
“We aren’t interested in your money, Mr. Pompous!”
Foxface hissed.
“That would be a new one! And who are you by the way?”
“My name is Paul Ryan and I would prefer you to stop making a fuss and come with us so that we can elaborate on our request!”
“You really think I would leave this place and go with you?”
“Actually yes!” The lean man answered sure of himself while patting his pocket.
Well, the bulge there might be a reason to follow the strange men.
So Luke told the assistant he couldn’t decide what he wanted but would return the following day.
When the two guys and he reached the entrance the always chewing gum grump showed something vaguely resembling a smile: “Finally! The assistants look at me as if I was a mope!”
“No way!” was all what Luke could contribute while Papageno blushed and Foxface cackled.
Great!
He was almost hit by the fact that the three guys headed to the next bar.
“So spill!” Luke riveted on Paul Ryan, who seemed to be the smartest one. But it was Papageno who answered instead.
“Do you know Ruby Oliver?”
“…Honestly - no! Who would that be?”
Luke got an answer that made him rush to ‘his’ or Lucinda’s apartment, throw the things he needed into his bag and run down the stairs where the weird trio was waiting for him. Two hours later Luke sat in a plane taking him to Boston, Henry Coleman to his right and Dustin Donavan to his left while Paul Ryan occupied the seat beyond the aisle. Luke didn’t know what he was getting himself into but he was so completely hooked that he didn’t even care about what might happen to himself next.
TBC