Chapter Text
Starting a small catch up was immediate, because both were still incredulous about being able to speak to one another; to understand everything that was said. Richard was the one to go first, as he was curious about where they were directed towards; he discovered that Chris’ friends were waiting for him to celebrate the last signing session; the magnitude of what was implied feeling like a punch to the chest. Just a few days of delay and… He shook that thought away, now at the platforms waiting for the train amongst the many other people ready to go on with their Saturday night.
Even though he was speaking in French, Chris tried his absolute best in using German, relying on his mother tongue only when he really didn’t know how to better explain himself. Richard didn’t have the heart to tell him that he didn’t have to, that they could easily decide which one of the two to use; yet that pout-pourri was so absolutely sweet he loved hearing it... Because of that, he wasn’t yet ready to shut up. He asked him if the book had enough success; and now that Richard was there, it seemed to Chris like the book had the acclaim he was hoping for. So, he told him how the LGBT community absolutely loved it, and that he had recently reached the thousand copies sold in total. To that, Richard could only be extremely impressed, sure that that could only mean that his dream had become fully true; he had to explain to him what his current occupation was and that maybe with his next work he could be finally lucky enough to live with his art. Stupid, little things.
As they jumped on the metro to find two places to sit close to each other, Chris had to ask about how long had Richard been studying French because he really was communicating with such ease; even wondering if he already did when they met. Letting red cheeks properly thank him for what he thought was an undeserved compliment, he hurriedly explained his change in carrier, ending the sentence with a safe and easy: “It’s a long story.”
“Well, you have five months’ time to recount it to me.” Chris felt himself smiling as those words escaped him; he couldn’t hold them back, he really let that hope shine bright. They both found themselves embarrassedly giggling at that perspective.
So of course, it was then Richard’s turn to wonder about Chris’ learning path, and he gladly told him about it, explaining that he never had the chance to practice outside the classroom; how he sincerely liked German. He was amazed at that rarity, complimenting him too as that far he had managed to express himself with eloquence and clarity.
Stupid, little things. There was so much to talk about, it felt like having to climb Mount Everest; they had to start from somewhere,after all! And those silly, tiny questions were the first uncertain steps on that path. So much to find out and marvel about.
After long consideration, Chris finally asked him about how he found the book; if he saw it and thought that it was his, needing to discover which of the things he had thought of was the one that worked. With a tiny smile, Richard confessed about making a first connection from his name; he couldn’t help but feel a bit of euphoria. He had been right in keeping it! “I’m so… Incredibly happy that you found it... And that you’ve read it, of course.” he gently said.
Richard felt himself blush deeper. “Maybe one day we’ll talk about it in detail.” He suggested, in a whisper. Was it too early to address that already? And yet it felt necessary, at least in some part...
He half smiled, his cheeks coloring as well. “Absolutely, of course. There are so many things I want to ask you about, so… Oh, this is our stop.”
They got up, and Richard almost slipped and questioned him about what he meant with that, only then finding out how many answers he still wanted to have… But he caught himself in time, asking him more about his adventure as an author, and as the doors opened, they went outside on the platform. Chris found himself thinking about how familiar that situation already felt, as if Richard and him had always talked like that, like there wasn’t a gap of three years in their relationship, but just a few days. It came easy talking to him, joking, just… Walking alongside him. He was almost sorry they had to enter the usual cocktail bar where the gang was waiting for him, because that meant putting a pause in the conversation they were having, other people between them; having again a distance… Stopping the climb.
Richard felt the exact same, still so unbelieving of the simplest action of having an actual conversation with him; and now that they were so deep in it, he almost wished they could ditch the party to keep it going. He was then surprised to recognize the bar they were reaching as the same he had been with his classmates the first Friday in Paris… How close they had been to meet already... That thought could only make him smile again, as they entered.
As soon as Chris passed the threshold, Guillaume and the others greeted him with loud applause and cheering, making all the other patrons turn to them. Wanting to disappear but also knowing that that was just the beginning of what was waiting for him, he very theatrically bowed before going to join them.
“Monsieur Schneider, what an honor to have you at our same table!” joked Gabriel, getting up and going for a shake with both hands.
“Oh, come on now!” Chris exclaimed, profoundly embarrassed.
The others too did the same shtick, deeply amused, with different gags like “We’re incredibly honored to have such a reputable author amongst us!” and “We’re not worthy of your distinguished presence!”
Chris turned to Richard, seeing him laughing at what was happening; he was relieved that his friends didn’t scare him with their antics. He went back to them: “Well, thanks to all of you, gentlemen; I don’t deserve these extremely kind regards. By the way, guys, this is Richard. Richard, this is my gang.” He said, his voice just lightly trembling of emotion, motioning him to come close; Richard did, giving his hand to each of them to shake, very shily.
Immediately, Guillaume and Chris locked eyes; his best friend had the funniest expression on his face, barely disguising surprise, looking at him with incredulous joy. He could only smile back to confirm that yes, he had heard that right. Guillaume then shot him a questioning look, but he quickly moved his index in circles to signal that his questions had to wait for later; that wasn’t at all the time for detailed explanations. With that, he went back to look at Richard shake hands with his friends. How so simply wonderful that was, how they didn’t even imagine the importance that moment had for him...
Richard observed each of them with interest: they clearly didn’t hide who they were. The guy introducing himself as Laurent wore everything leather and had a bushy moustache, as if the ‘70s never passed; Marcel and Gabriel held smugly each other's hands, and Guillaume... Well, he was probably the flashiest, with an iridescent jacket, his platinum blond hair down his right shoulder and even long, sharp pearl-white colored nails. He too held hands with the guy next to him, called Maurice. The only girl was simply gorgeous, with glittery make-up and very long hair styled in waves reaching as far as he could see.
He immediately felt out of place, like everybody else knew; he didn’t really understand how could they be so calm and nonchalant when all those eyes were pointing at them... After the pleasantries, he sat between Chris and Laurent, the only spot left. Out of pure instinct, Chris put his arm on the backseat of Richard’s chair; yet that simple enough gesture made him blush so deep he had to hide his face behind the menu for a while. His closeness made him forget about his turmoil, and the eyes he felt on him decided to hide behind forgiving lids, for once. There wasn't time for overthinking, that evening: all it mattered was enjoying Chris’ presence at the fullest, after so much time… Just as he was feeling better, a waiter came to take the orders and was quickly on his way.
“So, how does it feel being one of the biggest authors of our century?” joked Marcel.
“Oh, fuck you.”
Everyone giggled, very amused.
“You know, I’ve heard that for the next school year, in the textbooks your name is going to appear next to Proust’s.” piled on Maurice, sprawled in his chair.
Chris sighed deeply, making everyone laugh. Richard found himself enjoying those shenanigans, so remindful of his own friends in Schwerin… They really looked like a tight and close-knitted group; he almost hoped that with time he could be included in it… He shot a shy, sweet look at Chris who was still the subject of his friends’ taunting, finding himself observing how deeply he was blushing, by and by. Maybe if it all worked out just fine… The thought happily escaped him, as right then and there, there was no way to make his heart shut up; he let it happily talk, as he kept marveling at how nice it felt to get to know him simply by watching him interacting with his friends. He followed the mindless banter until luckily enough the waiter came with the cocktails, saving Chris from any further embarrassment.
Guillaume took his glass, getting up. “Jokes aside, I propose a toast to Chris and the wonderful debut he made as an author. To Chris!”
They cheered, glasses clinging. He turned to Richard, with his sweetest smile, to cheer with him, too; looking intensly at him. In his eyes there was so many wonderful feelings… The moment lasted a second, when Richard was left lightly breathless of what he had the chance to read in them: joy, gratitude, affection… Before Chris could turn back to his friends, sincerely touched. “You guys… I have to thank you instead; you were by my side every step of the way. So, a big part of all of this goes to you, too.” And he raised his glass again; the others happily joined in.
“The important thing is that you’re satisfied with it.” said Antoinette. “You’re always so damn critical of yourself.”
Everybody giggled. “Well, of course I am! And of both those things!”
As normal chatter started filling the table again, Laurent was the first to turn to Richard, looking at him with curious and gentle eyes. “I don’t think I ever saw you before! Are you new in town?”
Richard managed a shy smile and answered him, ignoring his heart racing in his chest out of strange anxiety, noticing that also another member of the friends’ group joined the conversation.
“Ah, another Sorbonne student! Antoinette studies architecture there.” Laurent pointed to her and called to her. “Hey, Nettie! You’ve got a fellow scholar here!”
She turned to them with a tiny smile. “Oh, really? What do you study?”
“Well… French.”
“...you aren’t French?”
He blushed, shily correcting him on his origins.
“What!” they were sincerely speechless; Richard shot them an amused look, doubting the authenticity of their reaction. Was he really that good or were they just too nice, like Chris had been?
“You’ve got no accent whatsoever!” intervened another friend, whose name completely escaped his mind.
“Yeah, really! Very good job.”
“You’re all too kind…”
“Oh, no, trust us! Marcel’s Parisian, he would never say something like that if he wasn’t left speechless.” Laurent pointed at that other friend; Richard noticed that almost everyone was listening in, Chris too. He felt his face catch fire.
“Well, thank you guys.”
Very curious about him, they kept on asking Richard questions, to which he happily answered: about Berlin, having witnessed just a bit of the GDR before it disappeared. Chris at his side listened intently, a small smile on his face, still marveling about the fact that he was there...
“Well, I don’t remember much. After all, when the Wall fell, I was eleven.” He was just explaining; everyone was intently listening to him. “As far as my experience goes, there are some things I remember nicely and some others that I don’t miss at all… Like… For one, the censorship. We couldn’t listen to music freely or rather, just what the government dimmed okay to listen to, you know? I knew of Kiss through my older schoolmates who were part of a sort of black market that sold cassettes from the West, otherwise I would’ve never known they existed.”
For a while the group lively discussed with him about those memories; he was starting to feel by and by at ease with them, as he noticed he could understand what they were saying almost completely and how everyone was quite nice, too. From there, they switched to how was studying French and his life in Paris; usual answers he was used to give. That confidence let him be the center of the conversation without him even realizing.
“And how did you meet Chris?” was Marcel’s question.
Oh, fuck. Did they know already? Did Chris tell them about him because of the book?
“...we’ve met some days ago, while I was going back home from work.” Chris answered for him. “We bumped into each other tonight and I invited him to join us.” So they didn’t know. Somehow that hurt a bit, even though Richard recognized that Chris couldn’t just say “Hey, this is the guy I wrote about” so easily. He couldn’t even really put a finger on why it hurt, to be honest.
“Hey, shall we go? I’m starving!” Guillaume’s voice resounded loudly, interrupting the discussion just on time.
Between sounds of assent, the group started getting up; Chris left him behind to go up to the cashier trying to pay for everybody as to thank them for all they did for him; but he was soon surrounded by the others.
“Don’t you dare!”
“Hey! Just because now you’re crazy rich, it doesn’t mean you have to spoil us.”
“Come on guys,” he jokingly begged, “just as a sign of gratitude!”
“No fucking way, Chris.”
“Over my dead body!”
Keeping a bit his distance, Richard observed the scene lightly laughing, enjoying those shenanigans immensely, having even done the same with his own friends on a few occasions. Everything just felt cozily familiar, and he enjoyed it greatly. Anyway, even if literally everybody tried to shoo away Chris’ hand from the poor cashier, waving in her face banknotes or cards, he still managed to offer the drinks, thanking her and excusing himself for his friends. He then went back to Richard, with a smile. “Sorry, they’re always like that.”
“Don’t be, my group of friends is very similar.”
“Are they really? Well, it isn’t only us, then!”
“And thank you for the drink. Are you sure you don’t want the money back?”
He shook his head. “Not at all.” He wanted to tell him that part of the credit for the success of the book was also his, but he forced those words down, as they started leaving.
“Well, I owe you one, then.” Those words were utmost sincere. And the implication didn’t go unnoticed.
The group went for a small pizza place not far from there; as they walked next to each other, behind the others as they loudly kept taunting one another, Richard felt Chris’ hand gently resting on his back. Blushing, he had to turn to him for a smile; they immediately were in each other’s eyes, sharing a conspiratorial giggle. There was no way to stop that need for closeness; not yet. They sat next to each other to eat, sharing half a conversation in the middle of everybody else’ antics, both still so incredulous.
After that, the group moved to a pub that had a peculiarity: patrons could freely choose between an assorted selection of board games, which were stored in a huge scaffolding that went along the walls of the space. Richard looked around himself in wonder: he had never seen something similar before and was very enthusiastic about the evening. The group sat down at a table, a box of Cluedo already in Marcel’s hands. “This time I’m the purple chick though.”
“No way, that’s mine and you know it.”
“Oh, come on, are we already bickering about that!”
“Chris is the green one, isn’t he a writer or something?”
“Is he?” Marcel opened the rules’ book to check.
“Or we can do as we always do and just hand out cards casually.”
At the end, Laurent took matters in his own hands and distributed them amongst joking protests, while Gabriel took random cards out of the different decks to create the homicide.
“Ah, I’m the purple one!” Chris showed his middle finger to Marcel, who in turn sticked out his tongue at him.
“Fucker! I’m going to make you pay for this!”
“I’ll love to see you try.”
They started playing amongst laughs and teases; at that point Richard felt like he had always known them, now so at ease he even made some jokes too, which happily landed amongst roars of laughter. He discovered this way that Chris was very competitive, taking the game very seriously amongst all the chaos; he very carefully studied every move and every card picked from the pack, taking notes in his sheet of paper.
Yes, he actually had always been that way, but he was putting himself way more into it as to slightly impress Richard: he wanted to win a game, to turn and see him happy about his victory, to see him smile for him.
At the end of the first round, in fact, the only two left to make the accusation were Guillaume and him. The two best friends had of course to make it in unison, violating different rules of the game; but everybody else was laughing wholeheartedly at their shenanigans, and at the end Guillaume won, having guessed the murder weapon correctly. Scolding himself for that letdown, Chris demanded a re-match, and then the re-match of the re-match; and so on, the night passing in the blink of an eye.
Luck wasn’t at all on his side, but he couldn’t have enough of Richard having fun with them, and he told himself that his mere presence was distracting him, not managing to concentrate properly. He loved that. Maybe he wasn’t going to get a decent win but that meant nothing, as making him laugh was way more important… To shot him shy looks as he looked at his cards, at the way he furrowed his brows when he concentrated, how he moved his piece across the board…
The pub closed at 2 a.m., so the group of friends made a last match to determine the overall winner, who was Antoinette, again defeating Chris over the culprit. Amongst joking accusations of rigging the game and teasing about not being capable of playing it correctly, the group left, standing outside to greet each other.
“This is the last time I’ll play with any of you!” Chris was still joking, everybody else backing him up.
“Yeah, maybe only by playing alone you’ll finally win something!” retorted Antoinette, happily.
He faked indignation and didn’t say anything, letting an eloquent finger talk for him.
“Okay, you guys! We’re going!” said Guillaume, with Maurice under his arm.
“Oh! Has the happy couple some important stuff to get down to?” joked Marcel with a telling tone of voice.
“You mean fucking, right? Yeah, we have to be there at 2:30 sharp, there’s no time to waste!”
“Yeah, I know quite well! We too have that same commitment! And I’ve heard that arriving late is not an option.”
The whole interaction of course went down amongst roars of laughter. Even Richard did find that exchange funny, without falling in his usual lines of reasoning.
“Then we’ll see each other again next Saturday!”
“Of course! And Richard, we hope you’ll be one of us again.” said Marcel with a smile.
Slightly blushing, happy about those words, he replied with a simple: “Thanks, I hope so too.”
“See you, goodnight!”
“Goodnight!”
And like that, the group finally scattered.
Chris and Richard looked at each other with shy smiles.
“Do you mind coming with me to the metro station?” asked Richard, hope in his hands.
Chris was exactly as hopeful, and those words lit up joy in him. “Of course I don’t. I have to take the metro too.”
They started walking side by side, silence between them, but it was a nice one, filled with happy feelings of a beautiful evening. Still, Chris wanted to interrupt it somehow, with whichever topic. He wanted to keep talking to him, but nothing was coming up in his mind. Yet there was so much they had to discuss about, even if they had all the time in the world; he wanted to get to know him, as soon as he could...
Richard too was of the same opinion, but he instead was scrambling to find a proper apology for what he had read in his book; he came up with and scratched sentences one after the other, as nothing seemed to fully express what he felt.
Strangely enough, no one was around them; the slightly orange-colored streetlights illuminating them as they walked on the only presence in the street. Chris hoped they could keep being the only ones in the world for some more, as he let that gentle magic fill him up to the brim. To be the only one in Paris to walk alongside Richard...
“So, did you have fun?” he finally asked, attentive; a way to break the ice.
“Yes, a lot!” he looked at him, smiling wide again. “I really like your friends. They’re very nice.”
“Oh, I’m so glad! They’re really my gang; we went on so many adventures together. And Guillaume is my best friend, by the way; almost a brother I never had. So… I’m very happy you like them.”
“I could tell that you two are close! They’re all hilarious, too. I had really so much fun.”
“I’m very happy about that. Oh, and... About before, I didn’t tell them who you were exactly because I’m not sure you want to share this information with them already. So, I preferred telling a small lie.” He said, earnest. It was a big reveal after all: only Guillaume knew the name of “the guy of the book”, as the rest of the group usually referred to his unnamed protagonist. The fact that his best friend had now a face to put to it almost made him stupidly smile at nothing.
Sweet, beloved Chris. Of course he wanted to be sure he was okay with it… He felt himself slightly blushing. “I imagined that to be the case. Well... I… I don’t know yet.” Now that he was thinking of it, he suddenly realized that telling openly that he was the person Chris wrote the book about, meant admitting he had sex with Chris. What would his friends think? What would they think about him? And just like that a profound shame engulfed him, as it happened every time; no matter the fact that all the members of the group were gay so they wouldn’t find anything strange at all about that.
“Of course. You don’t have to decide right now, after all.” He said, oblivious to his inner turmoil; at the same time, deciding if it was a good idea to face the matter of what would happen after that night. The topic was extremely important, and he needed to face it with him before they could say goodnight. He didn’t even want to think about a negative outcome to that question.
Richard stopped those thoughts peremptorily; he didn’t want panic to interfere between them at all. So, with a very big, deep breath, he found the courage to address the elephant in the room: “Chris, I… Before we go any further, I need to tell you something.”
Curious and slightly worried, he just murmured a tiny: “Shoot.”
After a few more seconds of silence, he finally mumbled: “I’m so, so sorry about how much you’ve suffered, really... It… It really hurt knowing what you went through... I really can’t express how sorry I am…” he hated each of those words, as they weren’t expressing the deepness of his regret at all, but they were the only ones he could come up with.
Chris sighed lightly. Fuck. Somehow, he didn’t think about how Richard would react to that part of the book. He had never thought that far. To be frank, he thought that all that he had wrote had been clear enough to explain that he was a new man now, and that pain had disappeared. So, he was finding himself completely unprepared to that. He went with the usual: “You don’t have to be, okay? I’m perfectly fine now.”, with his best reassuring tone. He really hoped that could be enough.
“Yeah, but… You still suffered. For me. And... I only wish I could have had a way to tell you you didn’t have to be so hard on yourself, and I can’t help but feel guilty...”
“Guilty?” Chris stopped in his tracks; Richard imitated him, finding a very serious expression on his face. “No, absolutely not. It’s not your fault, it never was. Why would it be?”
“I don’t know… But still it wasn’t easy to read that someone I care so much for was on the brink of dying because of me…”
“No. No, Richard; absolutely not.” Chris’ voice was firm, as he moved a step closer to him, looking deep into his eyes. “It was not at all because of you. I did it all myself; you’ve read it. I didn’t mean to make you feel this way, at all. It’s just what happened. Without it, I wouldn’t be here now, and... I just couldn’t retell the story without including that part. Unfortunately, it’s crucial it happened. But... It’s imperative you understand that it isn’t your fault. At all.”
“Yes, Chris, I know you couldn’t just erase that but… Can you understand how hurtful it was for me to read about you like that? How much the image of you so consumed by your own suffering has haunted me?” And it was true. All the positive feelings that had carried him until there were shaded by many of the things he had wrote: the note itself had as suddenly become just a knick knack on his bedside table to say one...
To that he couldn’t answer, having to look down. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I… All I can say is that I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never did.” He whispered, sincere.
“I know you didn’t. Just… I guess the main reason why I feel so incredibly guilty is because I went down a completely different path than yours and…"
“So what?” Chris moved closer to him still, a half-smile appearing on his face as relief washed over him. “I’m so happy to know that you were okay after we met. You really think I should be feeling hurt in knowing this?”
“Well, yes, because…”
“No, Richard. I’m not hurt. If anything, I am so comforted in knowing that you were okay for all these years. I would’ve sincerely been hurt only if you had told me you too had suffered, okay? I had hoped so much for you to be fine...” another whisper, a small confession.
Richard sighed lightly, half of his mouth bitterly shooting up at those gentle words. “I had hoped that too for you, though... And well…”
Chris let out a small breath. “I understood that after... After everything went down…”
"Just promise me you’re okay now.” he pleaded, in a very soft voice, still looking straight in his eyes.
Chris had to close his hand into a fist to resist the need of brushing his fingers along his cheek to take away that hurt expression from him. “I promise. That Chris you’ve read about just doesn’t exist anymore. Besides, after him I’ve been perfectly okay. You saw it tonight, too. So, really, there’s no reason to be worried. I’ve never been better before.”
“Okay. It’s… It’s that at first... I felt so guilty that all the wonderful things you wrote were overshadowed by it and your suffering. But then I thought that if I had read them, it could only mean you really had found a reason to fight; that it wasn’t just a pretext to conclude the narration.” Richard softly confessed. “So… Am I right in thinking that?”
He lightly nodded, slightly touched. “Yes. Yes, you’re absolutely right, that was the whole point. Let’s… Let’s leave that in the past, please.”
“Okay.” Richard was the one to reach out for a hug this time; of course, Chris couldn’t deny it to him. It was a reassuring one; he felt that Richard believed him but just wanted a small confirmation of everything they had just said, so he held him tight, whispering tender apologies in his heart. Soon after, that all was replaced by timid sweetness, Chris’ arms going to hold him just slightly closer; his chin going to rest on his shoulder and there it stayed, fighting again the urge of just finding his cheek with his lips... It was just so perfect to have him there again… A strong reminder that he had to ask what the future looked like to him; that the decision had to be necessarily shared. He had no choice but to start gathering to courage to speak up.
Richard let himself drown in the affection and in that soothing feeling. He really couldn’t get enough of that perfect gentleness, of him... He realized then how difficult it was going to be to resist the pull that already was begging him to fall again in that same, far away night... To love Chris again, to let him love him; to make reality out of all the imaginations he had... To restart from there, to let his heart take complete control. His brain was louder, tough, reminding him of fears and worries; how he needed Chris to know about them...
Telling it to shush for a second more, he moved away after a while, feeling comforted, but without letting him fully go, holding on to him still. “I’m relieved you’re really fine.” He managed to say, already reflecting on how to put in proper words the pure fear he felt.
Chris smiled gently at him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
Slight embarrassment got the best of him, having to let go of a half laugh as he looked down. He knew what to say but those words were difficult to push out, right then. In fear of hearing the wrong answer. “…well, I… I guess I would really want to know… What will happen after… After today? I mean… We really worked hard to get all the way to here, and… I’m pretty sure we won’t leave it at that tonight, so... That could only mean that we… Saw something, back then, right?” he managed to blurt out, his heart beating so fast of anticipation and worry.
Richard felt sweet hotness take hold of his face. After all, he was the one having the honor of knowing what Chris felt about him, so that question was only obvious. How to express his feelings without saying too much? Fear held him back strongly, but there was no way for him to not answer earnestly: “…I guess you can say that. After all, I’ve planned the last three years of my life for this exact moment right now... And look at me, I can’t already stay away…” He gently confessed, having to hide behind a small laugh as well.
Chris lightly smiled, those words touching him deeply; encouraged, he easily let go of a few secret sentences. “I know. It’s the same for me... I’ve missed having you so close to me and... I seem to can’t have enough of it yet.” He whispered, hope and joy filling his soul.
There they were, the butterflies in his stomach. A few, shy butterflies, flying around in him as those words made him blush for the umpteenth time… And with them came the worry of already being jumping too many steps ahead. “Yeah… But, at the same time I wonder… What if we get to know each other and we end up hating each other? What if all that I think of you is wrong; what if in five months’ time I’m back in Germany reflecting on all the wrong decisions I’ve made because… Because that night had to be just that, and we passed all this time chasing a delusion?” as he talked, he could hear his own voice getting more and more worried; so fearful of having to lose the preciousness he had in his arms… “So, to answer you, I… I really, really want to get to know you. As best as I can. I need to be sure I didn’t waste these years on nothing, that’s all. I’m so fucking scared of that happening…”
Chris sighed lightly, unable to look away from him. He knew those doubts; he had every single one of them. But there was a conviction inside him, the same that made him write the book, the same that lead him down that horrible path years before. So, he said: “I too want that, a lot. I have so many things to ask you and so much I want to know, and… I’ll be frank, I... I’m not scared. At all. We’re here, now. That can’t be for nothing, I’m sure of it. But I see your reasons, completely. I too would hate to make a misstep from here on out. What if… What if we make a promise? Right now.”
“Another one?” Richard lightly joked, a wonderful smile appearing on his lips.
“Yes, another one.” He tenderly said, smiling back. “No thinking about tomorrow. Okay? Let’s just see what happens. Let’s live day by day without worrying about that. Deal?”
“Okay, deal.”
They just looked deeply into each other’s eyes as they said that, finding both reassurance and tenderness. It never faded away; it had just quietly seethed below the surface for all that time... They were just now discovering it. How wonderful that was.
“Maybe… Maybe we can set a few ground rules, if you feel like it. I mean, I… I really like to show affection, and… I’m quite the hugger, so… I’ll limit them, if you want me to.” He gently told him.
“No, I… I love hugs, too! It’s… I don’t know, it’s that I fear of giving in to how much I’ve missed you and this way… Ruin everything, that’s all. But at the same time I don’t want you to restrain yourself…”
“Believe me, I have to do that!” he joked; and Richard laughed, well understanding what he meant. “But I feel the same, yeah.”
“I know, I know! I do too... So maybe… No rules, then. I can’t see us having rules. Maybe boundaries? That could be the right word.”
Chris nodded. “Sure, that makes more sense. So, are there any?”
Richard reflected for a while, looking down. They were still in each other’s arms, no intention to let go yet. “To be honest, I… There’s mainly one and that is just… As I said before, getting to know you as best as I can. As if… As if the lie you told Marcel before is actual truth. That we’ve met just a few days ago and… We’re becoming friends now. That there’s no past behind us.” he muttered, slowly, deep in his gaze.
“Okay. Absolutely. That’s okay with me.” Of course he was on board. He knew that that was his way to tell him that he too had the idea of a future; that it had to be well constructed. That passed by being absolutely sure that there was more than just the mere connection pulling them close. Part of him needed to be sure about that as well. “So… We’re nothing but acquaintances. Which… Is kind of true, too.” he said, half laughing.
Richard laughed too at that. “Do acquaintances already find it difficult to keep their distance from one another?” he heard the tone of voice he used and almost regretted it. But there was no way to stop himself from feeling all that tenderness colored with flirt… He couldn’t imagine anymore to live without that nearness…
Chris smiled, a small breath escaping his nostrils again as he caught that. “Mmh, I don’t know. Probably not.”
“But hey, this doesn’t mean that you can’t hug me at all.”
“Let’s say that we’ll do that when greeting and that’s it.”
“Okay, that works! And you? Any boundaries that I should know of?” Richard asked, with utmost sweetness.
He reflected for a second but then had to come clean: “I… I don’t have anything, I admit. The one you just set is perfect.”
“Are you sure there’s really nothing?”
“Yes, I’m sure. So, it starts now.”
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
They shared a tiny, last laugh, because both felt the same anticipation, the same joy of something undefined yet wonderful before them; hearts beating in perfect, hopeful unison. With that, Chris let go of him, secretly reluctant. “Well, it’s better if we go. We have some more time before the trains will stop riding.”
“Sure, you’re right.” With that they were again on their way to the station, still walking close though; the fabrics of the jackets gently brushing against each other, the words they just shared lingering in the air. “Uhm, talking about things to ask… Can I go first?” Richard suggested.
“Yeah, of course!” he let his enthusiasm shine bright from his voice.
“Why do you have a German surname, Chris? Why didn’t you tell me about it?”
He laughed, a hand on his nape as a sign of embarrassment. “Because I didn’t have enough English to explain, of course!”
Richard laughed too. “Yeah, but I was quite taken aback when I saw the book!”
“Yeah, I was sure about that.”
“So? Will you tell me?”
“Sure. My grandparents on my dad’s side were German. I never knew them, though, they died way before I was born.”
“Ah, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry; after all there’s really nothing to miss. Besides, he never liked to talk about them, so I really know nothing about them apart from my surname. I don’t even know where in Germany they were from, or when did they come to France.”
“Oh, I see… If it can be of any consolation, you have probably the most common German surname so it’s almost impossible to pinpoint a probable origin.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that! Anyway, that’s why I’m called Chris, too. From what he told me, my grandpa’s name was Christoph. So, for a while, my dad wanted to call me Christophe, its French version, but he feared it wouldn’t sound right with my surname. Calling me Christoph of course would make an entire German name, and that’s absolutely something scandalous for a Frenchman, and so… Chris was the best compromise.”
“Couldn’t your parents just choose a completely different name, then?”
“Well, in my family on both sides there’s this tradition of naming children like the grandparent and so they both wanted to honor that. So of course, my grandpa on my mum side had a French name so that was already scratched from the start.”
“Ah, I see. I didn’t know you had that tradition here, too.”
“It’s finally dying down! My sister, for example, was way lucky; she’s called Constance, like my grandma on mum’s side; I don’t remember now my grandma on dad’s side’s name…” he said, scrunching his face as he reflected on that.
“Oh, you have a sister?”
“Yes, she’s two years younger than me. And you?”
“Only child. Predictable, I know.”
“Not at all, I couldn’t imagine that! So… While we’re on the subject, I can finally ask what’s your surname!”
Richard couldn’t help but feel his face catching fire as he told him.
“Oh, I love it! Kruspe…” Chris pronounced it with care, almost as if to savor every letter; his French accent gliding on the K and R to make it sound as much as he could like he did. In hearing him nailing the pronunciation almost perfectly, Richard felt his heart picking up the pace, shooting him the sweetest look he could. “I really like it... By the way: my dad spoke German, but never taught any to us, which… In retrospect would have been a fantastic idea.” He lightly giggled.
“I’m sure he would’ve never imagined that it could’ve turned useful to you.”
“Probably. So, that’s all there is, really.”
“How’s learning German, then?”
Chris thought for a second before answering: “…why do you have so many fucking declinations?”
Richard laughed wholeheartedly.
“No, don’t fucking laugh! Why do you need so many different starke stuff, and the schwache stuff, and all of that!”
“Hey, what can I tell you. And by the way, you are the one talking about absurd grammar rules! As if French is a fucking pleasure walk. Why do you need so many tenses!”
It was Chris’ turn to laugh wholeheartedly. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“And why do you count in such a complicated way!”
“That I have to agree, German is so fucking logic… Units and then decimals. So easy and effective.”
“I like how we both thought: “You know what? Last time I couldn’t speak to him, so I’ll learn his language”.”
Chris smiled tenderly. “And now we can talk to each other in two different languages and still understand each other. Well, I’m no German genius though. Oh, do you have any plans tomorrow?” he asked, changing subjects to keep the conversation going as much as he could.
“Yeah, sleeping in. And then I’m meeting with some of my classmates for a walk; if the weather’s fine they want to take a stroll along the Champs Elysées. And reviewing for the week: I have my first monthly exam to face.”
“I bet you’re always hard at work.”
“Yes, of course. After all I’m here to study, first and foremost, right?”
“Right. How are classes?”
Richard told him about them. “And you, what are you up to?”
“Oh, really nothing much. On Sunday I usually meet with my sister for dinner, but I just... Sleep in, too. Do some stuff around the house. Read a lot. Nothing more. I’m very boring. You’ll soon discover that on your own.” he half joked.
“Well, it isn’t as if I go paragliding or... Bungee jumping or whatever!” Richard laughed, as they started descending the stair to the platforms. “I’m very laid back too.”
Stupid, little things. To start filling the gaps, to hide hearts still frantically beating; to dissimulate a sweet aftertaste retaking strength in the back of their minds and souls.
As they waited and chatted, the gusts of wind announcing the arrival of the train started blowing through their hair; so they got in, finding easily somewhere to sit next to each other. Stop after stop passed as they kept on talking, until they were close enough to Richard’s; at which point Chris got up too.
“You’re getting off too?” he asked, curios and slightly puzzled.
“Just to say goodnight.” He smiled widely at him.
Richard felt his cheeks warming up, realizing how happy he was about that; and so they jumped off the train. Once outside in the street, they found themselves in front of each other. And still there was no one around.
“I really hope we can see each other again very soon.” said Chris with a soft smile.
“I hope so too.”
“Oh, I have an idea: I can give you my phone number, so we can arrange a day to meet again.”, with that, he was already rummaging through the pockets of his jeans.
“That can absolutely work. But I don’t have anything to give you, I… I can only call through the university’s payphones, though...” Richard said, shily.
“Don’t worry, I know that. And anyway, it’s okay; whenever you feel like it!” and finally he found a pen and an old receipt; he started scribbling on it while leaning towards the light of a light post. No, this time he wasn’t letting him go without something to keep them connected… Not after all they had just said…
Richard chuckled. “You never change, ah?”
Chris half laughed too, realizing that that was the second note he was writing for him. “I know! What can I do, I need to have something to write on, in the case that inspiration strikes.” He gave the note to him, and then concluded: “So far, never happened.”
The comedic time was exactly right, and even if it wasn’t the best of jokes, Richard laughed wholeheartedly. “Thank you, Chris.”
“Of course. I’ll be waiting for you call.” he said, with a hopeful smile.
“And thanks for the evening again. I had lots of fun.”
They hugged again. “Have a goodnight, Richard. I can’t wait to see you again.” he confessed, in a tiny voice.
“I can’t, too... Goodnight...”
They indulged in that moment closer to each other. Then, moving reluctantly away, Chris descended the stairs to the metro station, fighting hard the urge to look back to see Richard walking away.
He jumped in the very last metro as his heart was still flying, the happiest he had been in quite some time. Just eighteen hours before he was sure he had to leave everything he had fought for behind and now... His dream had become true. He was there, sat in a random spot, savoring the incredible feeling of having met Richard again, having hugged him tight, having another promise with him, the whole future in front of them as clear as it ever had been... Never before did he feel so grateful for that spring morning two years before. Everything that had happened that far finally had a sense; it carried accomplishment and satisfaction. It had a meaning.
It really hadn’t been for nothing.
He couldn’t wait to see where everything was going to go. He hoped strongly that Richard would call as soon as he could, to set up a date and see him again as soon as possible... He hoped for the best. For the complete best. That each and every little thing he had wrote could prove true.
Once back at his apartment, leaving his shoes at the entrance, he noticed his answering machine flash; curios, he went to play the message.
“Call me when you hear this, whichever hour you’ll be back!” It was Guillaume, and he sounded excitedly impatient.
Chris chuckled. It was almost three in the morning, it wasn’t a decent hour to make a call at all, but he obeyed, dialing his number. He couldn’t wait to tell him everything, to share with him that unexpected joy, before getting ready for bed. But how to sleep after such a fantastic day?
With each beep before Guillaume answered, he found himself counting the blessings that that extraordinary day had left him with, to discover once again how incredibly lucky he had been.
The second chance he prayed for had been answered. He wasn’t going to waste it, at all.