Chapter Text
A week after moving to Paris, I found myself, surprisingly, becoming bored by everything around me. You might ask, why Paris? Well, I'm not so sure. But since I was young, I've always wanted to go to Paris, so this was my chance. Oh, and, don't get me wrong, it's a pretty wonderful place, but I grew incredibly lonely real fast. Moving away from everyone I knew into a new country all on my own was pretty tough. I rented a pretty nice apartment in the city, which is hard to get and I was incredibly lucky I could afford the rent. At least my family had some French in their blood and I was pretty fluent in the language, so I could at least try and fit in with a crowd. I sighed, sitting down on my tatty leather couch to go for a quick nap, still worn out from the big move. I shut my eyes and slept soundly. That was, until, I started dreaming some weird shit. About a town, surrounded by huge walls... blood everywhere..these giant humanoids savagely rampaging the town, killing everything in sight. I woke up with a start and looked around me, trying not to confuse myself with dreams and reality. I held my head in my hand and groaned, I had a splitting headache. I got up and pulled my coat on and walked out my apartment door, hoping to find some sort of pharmacy along the way to get some paracetamol.
"Fuck," I thought. "It's cold as balls out here!"
Well, after all, it is winter.
I shivered, crossing my arms over and squeezing tightly, hoping to keep some body heat. I soon spotted a neon sign with a cross on it and I immediately recognised it as a pharmacy, so I sped up my pace. Big mistake. But possibly one of the best ones.
There was some ice on the path and I bet you can tell what happens next. Yes, I slipped. And it really fucking hurt. I landed on my back and I could've sworn I heard one of my ribs crack. I hurried to get up, hoping no one saw me. But as I did, I saw a hand reach out to me. A tall, dark figure was standing in front of me. He grinned. The way he smiled was totally adorable, I have to say. I studied his face for a moment. Freckles, tanned, hair neatly parted in the centre, seemed pretty friendly...and yet, it was still hella awkward for me. I grasped his hand and stood up, I felt my face heating up.
"Merci.." I nervously stumbled.
"O-Oh, je'mappelle Marco, j'ai quatre-vingt dix ans.. A-Attendez! Je veux dire .. j'ai dix-neuf ans..." he stuttered.
Even though I knew what he was trying to say, I chuckled lightly. His face turned bright red.
"Dude, I speak English too, it's my first language," I said, with a smirk on my face.
"O-Oh! Well then, as you already know, I'm Marco! Marco Bodt!" he beamed. "Are you, you know, okay?"
..I sorta blushed then, and I looked at the ground and awkwardly put my hand on my neck, rubbing it self consciously.
"Y-yeah, I'm good. Thanks by the way. I'm Jean. Jean Kirstein." I said. "Sooo, you're nineteen? Same with me! Hey where are you from?"
"I'm from the US. California, but to be more specific, San Jose." he replied.
Holy fucking shit, this cannot be real.
"No fucking way!" I grinned.
He flinched at my language.
"I'm from California too! But I'm from San Fran," I added.
He half-smiled then. Goddamn, why do you have to be so freaking cute?
"We aren't that far apart, that's really cool!" I said, trying to hide my excitement. For all I know, he could be straight.
Because, if you haven't noticed, I'm gay. That's why I moved here to Paris, my parents threw me out in the street. Good thing they were pretty rich and I had a lot in my savings account, though.
"So.. why are you here?" he suddenly asked. Could he read minds?
I looked into his deep brown eyes. I looked away. I let out a shaky sigh.
"I-.. Um, well.. got kicked out by my parents for stupid reasons.."
What the hell? The Jean Kirstein, stumbling over his words like a stupid schoolgirl?
"O-Oh.. sorry for asking, Jean." he said, looking away. The way he spoke my name was like honey.
The funny part was that he was totally flustered! I tried my hardest not to laugh, but I just smirked. I suddenly remembered why I came out here in the freezing cold in the first place, but weirdly enough, my headache was totally gone.
"H-hey, which direction are you going in?" I asked, hoping he was going in the direction of a bar close by.
He hesitated, then pointed a shaky finger in the direction of the bar. Bingo.
"Great! I'm going that way aswell. You don't mind if I walk with you?" I asked hopefully.
"Yeah!! Um, I mean, sure! Why not?" he awkwardly grinned.
"Good, because I'm buying you a drink." I said, a tiny smile crept up on my face.
Again, he became quite flustered again.
"R-really?! That's really.. um.. unnecessary, you know, I'd be too much of a trouble, and besides, I didn't even do anyth-"
"Marco," I said slowly. "You're rambling,"
"Oh, sorry, it's, uh, something I tend to do a lot when I'm nervous," he said.
Shit.
Was I making him uncomfortable? Or was he just generally nervous all the time?
"Marco, hey, it's okay." I said with a laugh, "Unless you really don't want to, and you probably think I'm a total creep or something then I understand, but I really want to buy you a drink. I-I mean, we can like, hang out? Unless you have other plans..."
Great, now I was the one rambling.
He chuckled lightly, overcoming his nervousness.
"Sure, okay, thanks Jean." he said, smiling reassuringly.
We walked in silence until we reached the bar and we both sat down at a polished wooden table and ordered drinks, chatting away.
And that, is how I met my soon to be lover, Marco Bodt.