Man In Motion - 18. Lou

November 27, 1985

Paris, France

JP stood there and I could read his mind. He didn't want to leave, but he felt like he had to because he’d promised everyone that he’d be home for Thanksgiving. Most of my family members would have forgiven him, but Tonto was not letting him off the hook. After she’d forced JP to cave, she’d turned her arguments at me, trying to convince me to come with him, but I had been so resolute in saying ‘no’ she’d finally left me alone. They obviously didn’t celebrate a US holiday like Thanksgiving in France, and since Robbie had classes, he was stuck here. I had been adamant with everyone that my place was with him, and since he was in Paris, I was staying put. “I hope you find a way to enjoy your holiday,” JP said.

“Oh we’ll find a way,” I said, leering at Robbie.

JP shook his head at me and focused on Mouse. “I will see you as soon as Thanksgiving is over.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” Mouse said in his bedroom voice, and wrapped his body around JP in such a sexy way I had to look away to avoid getting an erection. JP gave him one last kiss, and then he was gone. It was freaky how as soon as he left, there was a massive void that made things uncomfortable, reminding me of how much I relied on him and his presence.

Mouse smiled at us weakly, then headed back to his room to pine for JP, leaving Robbie, Marcel, and me standing there. Marcel looked at us, smiling. “What are you grinning at?” I asked him.

“I am supposed to meet Jerome for dinner and drinks,” he said in almost a cocky way. Jerome was Dr. Cambronne’s first name, so evidently they were intimate enough for Marcel to call him that.

“You need to be home by midnight,” I said, being parental. “You have school tomorrow.” Robbie snickered at me for being the big disciplinarian, which got him a dirty look in return.

Marcel, in turn, gave me a dirty look, one which I completely ignored. “I can spend the night over there,” he whined.

“No you cannot. You will be home by midnight,” I said firmly. He challenged me with his eyes. “If you're not, you'll be grounded this weekend.” He glared at me and stormed out the door, slamming it as he went. Once I heard the elevator open and knew he was gone, I started cracking up.

“Hardass,” Robbie said, teasing me. Marcel was actually lucky I had assumed the parental role. Robbie was a lot tougher than I was, and he wasn’t as rational, so his rules were more arbitrary.

“Marcel is a great kid and he gets stellar grades, so I try to be easy on him,” I said, “but he still needs to get his sleep.”

“You just don't want him to get too obsessed with Jerome,” Robbie accused, sneering when he said his name.

“No, you don't want him with Jerome. You miss your blow job buddy,” I teased back. Marcel was rarely with us now, which was good, especially now that we were both officially negative.

“I still have you,” he said. “You're almost as fun.”

“Almost?” I challenged, acting all pissed off. He grinned at me, took my hand, and led me back to our room where I showed him that, in fact, I was much more fun.

We went out to a nice dinner then came back and sprawled across the sofa in the family room watching French television. It was not exciting. Stefan had sent us a US VCR and tapes of some of the shows that we liked, but we were being lazy. It seemed like it would take way too much effort to get up and put a tape in the VCR. Mouse was hanging out in his room. He hadn't been out since JP left, but that didn't really surprise me. He ran out of energy pretty quickly now. I looked at the clock and noticed that it was 11:30. I began to get concerned because Marcel only had thirty minutes to meet my deadline.

I pretended not to be nervous as the clock moved toward midnight. It should not have been a big deal because Marcel was usually on time, but at the same time he was more likely to follow the rules when JP was around. I sighed, noting that was just another sign of how important JP was to our little family here. At 11:55, Robbie looked at me and grinned, while I just frowned back at him. I was already annoyed and his taunting me only made that worse.

I watched the clock tick down until it hit midnight. Just as I was about to get really pissed, I heard the elevator ding, and then the door flew open as Marcel came blowing into the room. “Did I make it?” he asked.

“Barely,” I said gruffly, but I smiled at him. Internally I chided myself for getting so uptight, because he did his best to live up to our rules, and he was still a teenager.

“I had to tear myself away from Jerome and jump out of bed to make it on time,” he said, grinning. “Jerome was fired up today.” It made me nervous that he was so into Cambronne. I’d initially thought it was just a series of fleeting encounters, but Marcel seemed much more into him than that. I'd had the safe-sex talk with him lots of times, to the point where it was probably pissing Marcel off, but I wasn't sure if I was getting through to him. Then I remembered that my words were unnecessary when Marcel had a living example of the cost of unsafe sex living in the same house with him. It was obvious that Mouse was getting progressively worse, and Marcel saw that just as clearly as the rest of us. That was more effective than anything I could say.

“Well, off to bed,” I said, and Marcel obediently hurried down to his bedroom.

I kissed Robbie and followed him back to our room, carrying my drink and a magazine I’d been reading. “I’ll be right back,” I told him, then walked down to Marcel's room to say goodnight.

I should have knocked, but since he’d just gone to bed, I didn’t really think about it. I got a pretty big shock when I walked in and found Marcel in bed, frantically stroking his cock. He saw me and got a little apprehensive, enough to stop masturbating, then gave me his sexy smile and started slowly jacking as if he was putting on a show. He was so sensuous he was almost irresistible. I closed the door then sat on the bed next to him and replaced his hand with mine. I went slowly, but that only made him buck his hips to get more friction.

“I thought Jerome was all fired up?” I asked, even as I worked his dick with my hand.

“He was,” Marcel said, then moaned loudly due to my manual stimulation. “I blew him twice.”

“He didn't blow you back?” I asked. Marcel shook his head, and even though the topic was pissing me off, it was hilarious that my jacking Marcel off was like truth serum, making him answer my questions honestly. “Does he jerk you off?” Marcel shook his head again. “Don’t worry,” I said, leering at him. “I’ll take care of you.”

I leaned over and took his cock in my mouth, and he responded by moaning loudly and thrusting his dick urgently. He was so worked up he didn’t last long, so in less than a minute he was blasting a massive load down my throat. “Thanks,” he said as I kissed him.

“Your relationship with Jerome is getting a little creepy,” I said. He got pissed off at that, and looked at me defiantly. “You need a relationship with a guy who wants to make you feel good too, and who isn’t just there to take what he can get from you.”

“I like him, and I like taking care of him,” Marcel said, with a tone that told me he didn’t appreciate my interference. Evidently the hero worship Marcel felt for Jerome was strong enough to overcome the lack of sexual satisfaction in their relationship.

I headed back to our room. “You were gone for a bit,” Robbie said.

“I spent some time with Marcel,” I said.

“What's up with him?” Robbie asked.

“His dick,” I said, smiling at him. “I blew him.”

“Jerome didn't satisfy his urges?” Robbie teased.

“No, he didn’t,” I said and couldn’t hide how annoyed I was by that. “Marcel says that Jerome is only into getting his dick sucked. Evidently he doesn't reciprocate. He won’t even give Marcel a hand job.”

“What a selfish bastard,” Robbie said, and if anything, he was more pissed off than I was. He was pretty protective of Marcel, so much so that he sometimes reminded me of how Ace used to treat Claire.

November 28, 1985

Paris, France

It was Thanksgiving Day in the United States, but here in France it was merely Thursday. I'd been a little glum because I wasn’t at home celebrating with my family, so I’d decided to indulge in some retail therapy and do some shopping. What was the use of having money if you couldn’t spend it?

I was in a trendy and very expensive boutique on the Champs-Élysées, checking out some collarless shirts that were trying to make a comeback. I looked at them skeptically, but was pondering whether to try one on anyway, just to to see if I had maybe underestimated this new fashion. I ultimately decided that it wasn’t for me and put the shirt I was looking at down. I was just about to leave when I saw a young guy come in and froze in my tracks. He was absolutely beautiful, so beautiful he was stunning. My brother-in-law, Jack, was probably the handsomest guy I knew, but this guy could give Jack a run for his money.

I was shocked out of my appreciation of this male work of art when the clerk approached him. “You are back to look but not buy?” the clerk asked him rudely. I was amazed that this asshole could be so rude to such a handsome guy. The kid's face had been animated by his gentle smile, but the clerk’s rudeness had all but deflated him. It was heartbreaking to see him turn to leave, his slumped shoulders showing how dejected he was.

“Just a minute,” I intervened, then walked over to interpose myself between the clerk and this god. “He is with me, and I'll thank you not to be rude to my friends,” I said, pumping out power as I did. The clerk eyed me with disdain, but was smart enough not to argue. He just shrugged and stomped off.

“Thank you,” the kid said politely, then made to leave. For some reason, that seemed like an awful thing to happen, so I chose to engage him in conversation.

“Do you come here often?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I like to come in and look around, because they carry the latest fashions, and it is fun to see what they look like, and to imagine how cool it would be to wear them,” he said. He seemed really shy, which was stunning for someone as handsome as he was.

“I take it they don’t appreciate that,” I said, grinning as I referred to the clerk who had been so rude.

“They usually do not bother me because they know I am harmless, but he is the worst of them,” Lou said, and gave the rude clerk a dirty look. “If I know he is working, I do not come and browse.”

“It’s not a smart idea to drive away customers,” I said.

He shook his head at me. “I am not a customer. I cannot afford anything in this store, not even the items that are marked down,” he said philosophically. “That is why I understand when they get mad and want me to leave, since I never buy anything.”

I realized that I’d been having this nice conversation with him, but I hadn’t bothered to introduce myself. I solved that problem easily enough. “I'm Brad. Brad Schluter,” I said, holding out my hand.

“Louis-Charles Danton,” he said, shaking my hand back, although with a noodly grip that offset at least some of his handsomeness. “My friends call me Lou.”

“Then I will call you Lou,” I pronounced, getting a smile from him. “How old are you Lou?”

“I am eighteen,” he said. I stared at him, trying to figure out if he really was that old, when he blushed,giving away that he wasn’t. “Well, I will be in January. Right now I am seventeen.”

“Well, Lou, I am from America, where the handshake is a big deal. Let me show you how to do it correctly.” We began shaking hands but I stopped him. “You have to tighten your grip,” I said, and squeezed my hand to prompt a similar reaction. He shook my hand again, while I tried not to enjoy the sensation of his soft skin. “Tighter,” I said. He tightened up to the point that he had it down. “Very good,” I said, smiling at him. “That is how you do it.”

“Thank you for showing me,” he said.

“One more time for practice,” I told him. He smiled and shook my hand again. “Perfect. Now remember that.”

“I do not get much practice, because that is not usually how I greet people, but I will remember,” he said, grinning at me.

The rude clerk returned and interrupted my nice time with Lou. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Is the manager here?” I demanded. He looked at me and rolled his eyes, probably assuming that I was one of those obnoxious Americans who treated French people like shit.

“I will send her over,” he said, with almost a sneer.

“I should go,” Lou said nervously, because I was making a scene in this store that he liked.

“Stay here,” I said, then felt bad because it sounded like a command. We were approached by a very chic lady who appeared to be concerned.

“Bonjour, monsieur,” she said pleasantly. “I am the manager of this store. I understand you wanted to see me?” I recognized that while the clerk had been somewhat coarse, this woman gave off an air of culture and refinement, so I acted accordingly.

“Thank you for interrupting your day to speak to me,” I said, acting like I was JP. “My name is Brad Schluter, and while I am from the United States, I am currently living in Paris.”

“I hope that you are enjoying our city,” she said.

“I love Paris,” I said earnestly, to show her that I meant it. “I live on the Île de la Cité, and I am out exploring stores on the Champs-Élysées with my friend, Lou.” No one who was poor lived on the Île de la Cité, so I was blatantly neighborhood name-dropping.

“The Île is pleasant, but the shopping is better here,” she said with a smile, which I returned with a laugh.

“As I have been experiencing,” I replied. “Lou is much trendier than I am, and he told me that this is his favorite shop in Paris.”

“Welcome, Lou,” she said. “I have seen you here before, but I have not had a chance to meet you.”

“Thank you,” Lou said shyly.

“It was my intention to indulge Lou and fit him out with a new wardrobe, but your employee is most rude, and I find it impossible to work with him,” I said, gesturing at the obnoxious clerk.

“I am sorry about that,” she said, and seemed to mean it.

“He treated me as if I were a street urchin from Bellevue, and I am sure you can understand why I am unwilling to put up with that,” I said.

“I am not sure why he would make you feel that way, but I will certainly find out,” she said, and glared at the rude clerk, who actually recoiled at having pissed off his boss.

“I will leave that to you, then, but I am wondering if you have a different employee that we could work with?” I asked.

“But of course,” she said. There was a younger guy toward the back of the shop who seemed to be rearranging the clothes on hangers, but that was just an act to make him look busy as he watched our interaction with his manager. With just a look and a nod, she summoned him over. “This is David,” she said, introducing us.

“It is nice to meet you,” he said to me politely, then we shook hands, and if anything, his handshake was worse than Lou’s had been.

“It is my pleasure,” I said, then turned to Lou. “Perhaps you can show David how to shake hands correctly?” I teased.

“I can do that,” Lou said. The manager and I had to fight hard not to laugh as we watched them practicing.

“Thank you, madam,” I said to her. “I must run some errands, but I was planning to leave Lou in David’s capable care to do some shopping.”

“That is no problem at all,” she said.

“You can put his purchases on this,” I said, then handed her my American Express Platinum Card, which actually made her raise an eyebrow. Even though Platinum cards were new, with her ritzy store she already knew about them. They had replaced the prior elite American Express Gold card. To get the platinum card, you had to have a personal invitation (so they said) and pay a $250 fee. It was very exclusive and told this lady that I could afford anything I wanted. Her eyes opened a bit wider.

“That is no problem, monsieur,” she said, then we turned our attention back to David and Lou.

“David, I would like you to help outfit Lou. I want him to look even more terrific than he already does.” Lou's eyes bulged, while David just smiled. I focused my attention on Lou. “You have a budget of 10,000 francs. Enjoy yourself. I have to run some errands, but I will return in an hour or so.” As I left them there, it was funny to see Lou looking a little shell-shocked. I paused outside and looked through the window. I saw Lou and David get much more animated as they began shopping, while the manager strolled over to talk to her rude clerk, planning what would no doubt be a very unpleasant conversation for him.

I stopped at a bistro to get a jambon-beurre sandwich and a beer, then sat at a table and ate it while I people-watched on one of the busiest streets in Paris. I had taken my time, so it had been almost an hour and a half before I returned to the shop. I walked in and found several bags sitting on the counter, along with a credit card slip for me to sign. I smiled as I did, noticing that Lou had managed to spend 9,990 francs out of the 10,000 franc budget I’d given him. Both Lou and I thanked David, then David perceptively left us alone to talk.

“I do not know why you did this, or how to thank you,” Lou said, clearly confused by me.

“There are a few reasons why I bought you these clothes,” I said. “First of all, you are one of the most handsome men I have ever met. You deserve to have clothes to wear that show off your beauty,” He blushed deeply at my compliments, which was adorable. “The other reason is that, as you know, I am from the United States. Today is our Thanksgiving holiday, which is our day to be thankful for what we have, and to share what we have with others. The third reason is that I hate to see people bullied, as that rude clerk was attempting to do to you. Intervening was an instinctive thing for me to do.” If Robbie were here, he’d laugh his ass off at that understatement.

Suddenly Lou got suspicious. “What must I do to repay you for your kindness?” I was going to tease him and make some sexual innuendo, but I sensed that he was too nervous to appreciate my humor. Quite frankly, it was odd that it had taken him this long to think I may have some malfeasance planned. Lou struck me as being very naive, which based on how hot he was, made no sense to me at all.

“You must repay me by stopping by to see me and showing me one of your outfits,” I said. I handed him one of my cards that had the name, address, and phone number of our apartment engraved on it. “There truly is nothing more you must do.”

“I apologize if I was rude,” Lou said hastily, even as he ran his long sexy finger over the card I’d given him. “It is unusual for someone to be so kind without there being strings attached.”

“Today is your lucky day,” I said. I shook his hand and left, then noticing the time, opted to take a cab back instead of riding the Metro.

I got home and heard some noises coming from Mouse's room, which made me panic. I was filled with fear, because he’d been unwell lately, and it almost sounded like he was gasping for air. The door was shut, but I didn't let that obstacle deter me as I threw it open, expecting to find Mouse so sick he was almost dead. The scene in front of me was nothing like that at all, and it soon became clear to me why Mouse sounded out of breath. Mouse was lying in the bed on his back, and Marcel was fucking him.

They froze when they saw me, while I walked deliberately up to the bed and looked down to see Marcel's dick moving slowly in and out of Mouse's ass. Marcel was wearing a condom which was the only thing that kept me from beating the shit out of Mouse, HIV or not. Mouse glared at me while I watched Marcel fuck him. Marcel just stared at me nervously.

“Don't you knock?” Mouse asked.

“Don't you have any morals at all?” I responded.

Marcel, sensing my mood, pulled out and took off the condom. He gave me a concerned look and fled from the room. Mouse just glared at me and grabbed his hard dick, then stroked himself to an amazing orgasm while I watched, completely disgusted with him. I just shook my head and stalked out.

I paused outside his room, trying to analyze how I felt about this. I guess it didn't make any sense for me to be mad about Marcel being with an HIV-positive guy when I'd defended my own father for doing it. But it was different because Marcel was 16, where his hormones seemed to override his logic. He was stupid, thinking with his dick, while when JP fucked Mouse, he had made a more informed decision. I headed to the family room and collapsed on the couch, incredibly annoyed by this situation. I heard footsteps, then the the door slammed, and I knew that Mouse was gone. Whether that was permanent or not remained to be seen.

I knocked on Marcel's door then went in. He was lying on the bed on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “That's quite a risk you were taking,” I said.

“I used a condom,” he said defiantly. “That almost eliminates the risk. And then, the rate of infection for someone who is the fucker is 6.5 out of 10,000. Those are low odds.” I was really impressed that he’d thought this through, and evidently done research on it.

“You're right. Your chances of getting AIDS that one time were slim, but there was still a chance,” I said. “You are 16, very handsome, and very bright. You have your whole life ahead of you. Why risk that?”

“Is it not my body, my life? Can I not make these decisions for myself?”

He was upset at what he'd done, and he was arguing with me because he felt guilty. “Marcel, I love you. You're like my kid in some ways, my friend in others. I'm sorry, but to me, any risk is too big of a risk.” He nodded, and then hugged me.

“I love you too,” he said. “I appreciate what you are saying, and even if you are right, I maintain that it is my body to do what I want with.” I could have rambled on about how I was his guardian, but that wouldn’t get through to him anyway.

“There's something else to think about,” I said. “JP took you in, got you the job on the dig, and you repay him by fucking his boyfriend?”

A look of horror spread across his face. “I have betrayed him,” he said sadly. “He has done everything for me, and in return I have shit on him.” Watching Marcel at that point was like watching a volcano, where his words were but the beginning of the eruption. He broke down, first with tears that started out as a trickle then became almost a torrent, and in a few minutes he was sobbing. I held him, putting up with this display of emotion that irked me, until I was finally able to extract myself and escape to my bedroom, my sanctuary. I was surprised to find Robbie there, sitting up in bed reading a textbook.

“Happy Thanksgiving, babe,” he said. I just rolled my eyes. “What?”

“It’s been an interesting day,” I said ruefully. I jumped into bed and sat there with him, his cue to put the book away.

“This must have been tough on you,” he said. “I am so sorry we couldn’t go back to California for Thanksgiving.”

“That’s not the problem,” I said. “I actually had a good day until I got home.”

“What did you do?” he asked.

“I went shopping, and met this guy who was so beautiful he was breathtaking,” I said, and grinned when he got a little jealous. I told him all about Lou and my shopping spree.

“You sure you weren't hitting on this kid?” he teased.

“If you could have met him and seen him, you would have forgiven me even if I had slept with him,” I teased back.

“Is he prettier than Jack?”

“It’s a close contest,” I answered.

“That was a nice thing to do, especially on Thanksgiving Day. It’s good for your karma,” he said. I laughed at his reference to Eastern religious concepts. “It sounds like that was fun. Now tell me what's bothering you?” I relaxed.

“I came home and found Marcel fucking Mouse.” I saw Robbie let that register, and then saw his brows furrow. “Marcel was wearing a condom.”

“What the fuck is wrong with those guys?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Doesn’t Marcel understand how risky that is?” Robbie asked.

“He knows there’s a risk, and he’s adamant that he gets to make the decision on that,” I said. Robbie started to get mad about that, so I tried to pre-empt that argument. “I agree with him about that.”

“I still think this whole thing is really shitty,” Robbie said. “How could Mouse do this to your dad?”

“I don’t know,” I said sadly.

“How could Marcel do that to him?” he asked.

“I don’t understand that either,” I answered.

December 1, 1985

Paris, France

I stood at the gate waiting for the Concorde to taxi in. I watched as the sleek aircraft maneuvered deliberately up to the gate and the jetway attached itself. As I waited for JP to disembark, I pondered my conversation with him last night on the phone. He’d wanted to talk to Mouse, but I’d told him that Mouse wasn't home. He’d grilled me about where Mouse had gone, since Mouse usually didn’t go out at night, but I’d answered honestly that I didn’t know. Mouse hadn't come home since he’d stormed out on Thanksgiving, and I hadn’t worried about him because he was an adult with his own resources. I had pretty much resolved that dealing with Marcel was my problem, but dealing with Mouse wasn't, especially since I had no idea where he'd gone and I had no way to get in touch with him. JP had picked up from my tone that something was wrong, but I was determined not to talk to him about it on the phone. Now that he was finally here, I found myself excited to see him and apprehensive about how he’d react.

I left the viewing area and went to the area where people exited customs and immigration. JP came strolling out of the secure area, and while his face was its usual stoic barrier, I could sense how wary he was. “Welcome back to Paris, Dad,” I said, and gave him a hug. He returned it in a perfunctory way.

We chatted about his flight and the weather until we went outside and found our Citroën limousine waiting for us. As soon as we got in and put the privacy screen up, his eyes focused on mine like they were lasers. “What is wrong?”

There was no way to couch this in a positive way, so I just blurted out two simple words: “Mouse left.”

“He left? Why did he leave?” he demanded, then shook his head. “I'm gone for four fucking days and you guys manage to upset him enough to make him leave?” I stared at him and reminded him nonverbally that he was being way too emotional.

“I came home from shopping and heard noises in your room. It sounded like something was wrong with Mouse, like he was gasping for air,” I said. “Because of that, I burst into your room without knocking and found Marcel fucking Mouse.” If I had punched him in the gut, it would have gotten less of a reaction from him.

“Did you say something to upset him?” JP asked, as if I had told him that Mouse had done something minor, like breaking a flowerpot, and not something this significant.

“I asked him if he had any morals,” I said.

“I don’t see why you have the right to question him on that,” JP said. He was starting to piss me off.

“When I walked into the room, I just glared at him and didn’t say anything at first,” I said. “He is very lucky that Marcel was wearing a condom.”

“At least that is some good news,” JP said unconvincingly.

“I didn't know if you had an open relationship with him, so it wasn’t my place to judge him about that,” I said, then waited for him to tell me what their status was.

“We didn't have an open relationship. We were supposed to be monogamous.” His sadness was killing me, then he lashed out at me. “I still don’t see how that gives you the right to question his morals and make him feel unwelcome.”

I could have really gone off on him, but he never acted like this, so that just told me how upset he was. “I had that right because he’s positive and he’s letting a 16sixteen-year-old guy fuck him,” I said firmly. “And because I’m the guardian of that 16sixteen-year-old kid, it is my place to question him for doing that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and sighed. “This has obviously upset me a great deal, and I was using you as my punching bag.”

“I figured that out,” I said smiling. “There’s no one else’s punching bag I’d rather be.”

He smiled back at me grimly. “Well it was wrong of me, nonetheless.”

“I'm sorry this happened,” I said. “After he left, I didn't know what to do. He hasn’t been back, and I have no idea where he’s gone to.”

“This isn’t your fault, Brad,” he said, then looked away from me and gazed out the window at the passing scenery, collecting his thoughts. When he turned back to face me, his emotional state was replaced by logic and resolve. “I think this a sign, an omen if you will, that it is time for me to end my sabbatical here in Paris and go home.”

“Dad, why don't you stay for a few more weeks?” I asked, because the thought of being here without his steady influence was really shattering my psyche. “Then we can all go back together for Christmas, and that will give you the chance to tie up any loose ends you may have here.”

“I really have no loose ends here,” he said, although we both got that he was talking more about Mouse than anything. “On the other hand, I have a few things that I want to deal with at home.”

“What happened?” I asked, since he was being a bit vague.

“Sam died,” he said. My heart went out to this man who had just heard that his former partner had died of AIDS, and that the man who had been his current partner, who was also suffering from that dread disease, had cheated on him and left him with no explanation.

My mind reeled from that, then spun in circles until strangely enough, it settled on our initial trip to Paris, when I had been adamant that I didn’t want to visit Sam after the bullshit we’d witnessed with his fucking Jake. That visit would have given JP a chance to see him one last time. “I'm so sorry, Dad,” I said morosely, because the guilt was overwhelming me. “I should have let you stop in St. Louis, to see him.”

“You are assuming that I could not have engineered a stop there despite your objections?” he asked in a playful way, making me smile. “It is better this way. He left me a nice letter that gave me, and probably him, some closure. I will show it to you someday.”

We were quiet as the Citroën zipped through the city, maintaining that silence until we got back to the apartment. The small elevator lifted us up to the fourth floor. The door was unlocked since Robbie and Marcel were waiting for us. We walked in and JP gave Robbie a warm hug, but did not do the same thing for Marcel. Instead, JP just looked at Marcel and shook his head sadly, then retreated to his bedroom. Marcel burst into tears and fled to his own room.

I felt Robbie behind me, then relaxed into his body as his arms wrapped around me. “Dad wants to go back to the US. I'm trying to get him to stay for a few weeks, but that may not happen.”

“I like it here,” he said, more definitively than I’d expected.

“You want to stay here for another semester?” I asked.

“Yeah. You don't?”

I sighed. “I love Paris, and I love being here with you, but I feel like I'm spinning my wheels,” I said. That was a bad argument, because it sounded like I wouldn’t make the sacrifice to stay here so he could finish his degree. “That wouldn’t really be a big deal, but there are people at home that need me.”

“No one needs you more than me,” he said lovingly.

“Probably not,” I said, joking a bit, “but they still need me. Tonto is old and Darius is young.”

“I understand that you have responsibilities there, but if JP is well and he’s back home, can't he deal with them?” he asked logically.

“Maybe, but I would feel like I dumped everything on him,” I said, then continued before he could remind me JP wouldn’t think that should factor into my decision. “Look, I miss them, but I would miss you more.” He just held me from behind. Then he nuzzled my neck with his mouth. I could feel him hardening behind me. I turned and kissed him, then we went back to our room and made love. He was my rock, the person who gave me the strength to deal with all of this shit. If he was in Paris, I'd be in Paris.

December 2, 1985

Paris, France

It was fucking cold up here on the terrace, but I wanted to smoke some weed and I tried to avoid doing it in the apartment. Robbie had gone to school, as usual, and I'd spent my morning in my studio. I was having a really hard time doing a picture of Dr. Cambronne because I just didn't like him anymore.

I heard footsteps and smiled at JP as he came up to join me. I handed him the joint. “It's cold up here,” he observed, stating the obvious.

“It is, but it's invigorating.” We smoked in silence, then tossed the roach in the snow.

“I have a few things to talk to you about, and I would prefer to do it when I’m not dealing with arctic temperatures,” he said, making me chuckle. I followed him down to his study where he handed me a sealed envelope. “This extended family has a lot of secrets. When I was first diagnosed with HIV, I thought about going through my papers and burning them. That didn't seem fair, especially to posterity.”

“I can see that,” I said, just to move the conversation forward. He got up and walked to the window, then turned back to face me again. “The combination to my safe at Escorial is in there. If something happens to me, I want you to go through it and decide if there are things that should be revealed, burned, or just saved.”

“Dad, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” I objected.

“Probably, but I am too tired to think about it anymore, so I'm sloughing the responsibility off onto you,” he said. “If I change the combination, I'll let you know. ”

“That's fine, Dad. Seems you'll be with us for a lot longer though,” I said. He smiled at me.

“I hope so, Brad. But I feel lonely.”

“Marcel can keep you company,” I said, chuckling. “He’s into older guys. He fucked your boyfriend, and he's been blowing Dr. Cambronne.”

“He's been blowing Cambronne?” he asked, and looked pretty shocked. I felt bad that I hadn’t told him before.

“He did,” I said.

“Thanks for telling me that,” he said sarcastically. “That will make it so much fun to deal with Cambronne now.”

“It's not a big deal, Dad,” I said. “Marcel just developed an obsession with him, a kind of hero-worship thing.”

“It is a big deal, Brad,” JP said to me severely. “ Dr. Cambronne is HIV-positive.”

“What?” I asked, even as I felt the earth falling out from under my feet, so much that I hurriedly sat down.

“So now our promiscuous young man, in addition to fucking my HIV-positive ex-boyfriend, has been blowing another HIV-positive guy most likely without using any protection.” He’d made the pronouncement, and interpreted my shock as being worried about Marcel, but this time he was wrong.

“Fuck,” I said, so annoyed at this whole situation, but mostly annoyed at myself.

“What are you not telling me?” JP demanded.

“I blew Cambronne too,” I admitted. “I found him very attractive, so we ended up in his office and I just did it. It was like I was on autopilot.”

“Very powerful men like him can be very alluring,” JP said, throwing me a bone.

“I had to explain everything to Robbie, and promised I wouldn’t do it anymore,” I said. “The next time I was alone with him, he tried to seduce me again. I was saved when Marcel interrupted us and ended up taking my place.”

I was all but despondent, while JP was being pensive. A few minutes later we heard Marcel come home. He was trying to be quiet, to just sneak past us, but he wasn’t that stealthy. “Marcel,” JP called, then waited for him to appear at the study door. “Keep your coat on. We're going out. You are coming too, Bradley.”

“Where are we going?” Marcel asked nervously. He probably thought we were going to drown him in a river.

“Dr. Cambronne is HIV-positive,” he said. “We are all going to get tested.” The three of us left the apartment and caught a cab to the clinic, then sat there totally depressed as they drew blood from us.

We walked out of the lab, with all of us somber, and only spoke enough to decide to stop at a cafe to get a beer and food. Food was an especially big draw for Marcel, who was a growing boy with the appetite of a horse. I felt relieved to be somewhere warm, but completely discombobulated by this latest revelation about Cambronne. I had been hoping for a calm and relaxed meal, but those hopes were dashed by JP as soon as we got a table and sat down. “So what possessed you to sleep with my boyfriend?” JP asked Marcel in a way that was not polite or friendly.

“I got home from school and went in to check up on him. I usually do that,” Marcel said. He was being very calm and steady, which surprised me until I realized he must have known this talk was coming and had prepared for it. “He was jacking off and asked me to fuck him.”

“Was that the first time you'd fucked him?” I asked.

“It was the first and only time,” Marcel answered.

“So he asked you to fuck him, and you did?” JP asked. Marcel and I looked at each other, sharing our concern for JP because he was so upset about this he was not being himself. His emotional state was much like it was on our ride back from the airport.

Marcel nodded. “Mouse told me that he had a sweet ass, and that he was so horny but totally alone. He said he needed a…” then he stopped, unwilling to continue.

“Go on,” I demanded, unwilling to be left hanging.

Marcel sighed. “He said he needed a hot young stud like me to really fuck him.” JP stared at him and just nodded sadly. The age difference between JP and Mouse had seemed to be a non-issue, but after hearing Marcel out, maybe that wasn’t the case. Regardless, Marcel’s words had the effect of just making things worse.

“Dad, I really don’t think this has anything to do with age,” I said, trying to give him a lifeline.

“The facts argue otherwise,” JP said abruptly.

“I am sorry,” Marcel said to JP sincerely. “I guess I was thinking with my dick and not with my brain.”

“You seem to do that a lot, Marcel,” JP observed firmly. I'd seen the look he gave Marcel before, and it was scary. “Brad once had a friend like that. He had no conscience, no scruples; he just fucked whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted.”

“Jake?” I asked. JP nodded.

JP took a sip of his beer, then continued. “He is in the hospital now, dying of AIDS. Do you know how many visitors he has had?” Marcel shook his head. “None.”

“That is unfortunate,” I said, but I didn’t really mean it. After Jake’s conduct in St. Louis, I had washed my hands of both him and Sam.

JP ignored me and maintained his focus on Marcel. “I basically banned him from my family because of his behavior. His actions threatened to destroy some really important relationships,” JP said. He paused to take another drink of beer, then turned back to Marcel, his look even more severe, if that were possible. “I don't want to have to do the same thing to you. I know you don't mean to create problems, but you have to learn constraint.”

“Please do not throw me out. I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you. Anything.” Marcel was pleading, and I reached over to put my hand on his shoulder in a reassuring way. I knew JP wasn’t going to eject Marcel from the family, because if he’d been contemplating that, he’d have had to have an argument with me about it first.

“I don't need you to pay me back for this, or do anything to atone for it beyond the apology you have already given me,” JP said. “I believe in second chances. You get one. But you won't get a third.”

Marcel looked like a bunch of guys had come in and kicked his ass, he was that shocked; I opted to change the subject before he peed his pants. “Has Mouse contacted you?” I asked JP.

“He has not, and I don't know if I want him to.” He finished off his beer then stared at the empty glass as if it had some major significance. “I was willing to sacrifice everything for him. I thought he loved me. I blame myself for this, for thinking it was a good idea to date a guy who was so much younger than me.”

“Does Mouse not get a second chance?” Marcel asked. I waited, just staring at JP. I managed to avoid laughing my ass off as I watched him work that through his internal system, trying to evaluate it scientifically with his usual fussy sense of justice.

“Maybe,” he said, smiling at Marcel. We paid the bill and headed home. JP put his arm around Marcel, his way of indicating this whole incident was in the past and that they were good again.

“I will keep you company until you decide to take him back,” Marcel said, winking at him. I giggled.

“I've had enough of young guys,” JP said.

“There are many advantages,” Marcel said, giving JP a leer. “I can have six orgasms in one night, maybe more. Can you do that?” We all laughed.

I found Robbie at home waiting for us, mostly because it was dinner time and he was hungry. “We need to talk,” I told him. He looked at me nervously.

“What is it now?”

“Come on,” I said, and led him back to our room, ignoring the concerned looks we got from Marcel and JP. I shut the door behind us then turned to face him. “We have to wear condoms again.”

“What the fuck?” he demanded. “Is this because of Marcel?”

“Yes, and also because of me,” I said. “Dr. Cambronne is HIV-positive.”

He stared at me dumbfounded for a bit, just long enough for his anger to overpower his shock. “Fuck!” he yelled, then stormed out of the room. I heard the front door slam as he left the apartment. I didn't chase him, because I knew he'd be back soon enough. I just relaxed in our room, enjoying the solitude and lack of drama. After he’d been gone 45 minutes, I heard the unmistakable sound of his footsteps, which focused my attention on the door to our bedroom. He walked in and closed it behind him. “Waiting for me to get done with my tantrum?” he asked, smiling.

“No, I'm waiting for you to sort things through and to figure out how you feel about them. It's what you do,” I said in a loving way. “That’s a whole lot better than just saying a bunch of shit you don't mean, or at least that you didn’t want to say.”

“You know me so well,” he said, and gave me a sweet kiss. “You didn't kill me when I fucked up with Neil, so I won't freak out over this.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“But here’s the deal,” he said, switching to a more assertive tone “We're done with this shit. From now on, it's you and me and no one else. Anytime in the past we've deviated from that, it's caused us problems.” His expression changed abruptly. “That’s okay with you, isn’t it?”

I laughed at him, appreciating that he wasn’t a dictatorial asshole. “I’m fine with that.” I pulled him onto the bed and rolled on top of him, kissing him. “You think I'm enough to satisfy you?”

“I know you are, but I think you need to prove it to me,” he said, leering at me. He kissed me back, then I made love to him, with a condom, but it was still wonderful.

December 3, 1985

Paris, France

I woke up, looked at the clock, and saw that it was 2am. I was hungry, and my big hope was that I’d just be able to fall asleep without eating, but my stomach growled loudly telling me that wasn’t happening. I sighed, got up, and headed to the kitchen to find some food. I patted my tummy to make sure I wasn't getting fat. I really needed to be by a beach so I could surf, but if Robbie got his way, I was going to be stuck here until May. I heard voices coming from JP's room which aroused my curiosity. The door was slightly ajar, open enough that I could look in and see the bed.

There was enough light, either from the city or from celestial objects, that it seemed to create almost a spotlight effect on Marcel. He was standing in front of JP’s bed, stark naked, with his dick as hard as a rock. “Do you not want me?” he asked JP. “I know I want you. See how hot you make me?”

“I can’t do that,” JP said as he shook his head, but Marcel wasn’t having it. He took JP's hand and put it on his dick. It was all I could do not to laugh my ass off as I saw JP fighting against his desire for this handsome young man. It was like I could see his internal conflict just by watching his expression change.

“I am so cold, and I need you to keep me warm,” Marcel cooed as he climbed in bed with JP. JP didn’t say or do anything to stop him, a sign both Marcel and I evidently took as his complete surrender to his desires. Marcel disappeared under the covers, resulting in the sheets rising and falling in that unmistakable bobbing motion as Marcel started blowing JP. I giggled at Marcel's brazen behavior, and at how good he'd become at seducing other men.

I went to the kitchen and put some leftovers in the microwave then went back to watch them. I looked in and smiled. JP was lying on top of Marcel, his back against Marcel's chest, while Marcel fucked him and stroked his dick. That was JP's favorite position. I remembered what Mouse had told me: once you got JP's dick out, he was a different guy. Marcel certainly had him unhinged. I left them alone, wolfed down my leftovers and then woke Robbie up, making him do the same thing to me.

I managed to get back to sleep, but was awakened when the alarm went off at 7am. I didn't have anything to do, but I got up early to make sure Marcel woke up for school. I checked for him in his room, but since he wasn’t there, I went to JP’s room, where I found Marcel sleeping on his back with JP snuggled up to his chest. I smiled at how cute they were, then frowned as I thought that it was inherently wrong for a 16-and-a-half-year-old kid to fuck a 49-year-old guy. I backed up my moral express train and took a more considered approach. In the end, I decided that they made a good match, since Marcel had a thing for older guys and JP was young at heart.

I cleared my throat loudly, and that woke both of them up. JP looked up at me and blushed three shades of red. Marcel, on the other hand, had no such qualms. He woke up with a huge smile.

“Time to get ready for school,” I said whimsically, teasing them.

“Can I have 15 more minutes?” Marcel asked, and I saw his hand move down and grab JP's ass.

“You have to get up,” JP said, insistently. I almost laughed at him because I was betting that he was going to lose that argument just like he’d lost the argument with Marcel at 2am. I left them alone; interestingly enough, I didn’t hear Marcel get in the shower until fifteen minutes after I’d woken them up. I put together something for Marcel to eat on the go and handed it to him as if we were in some relay race as Marcel charged out of the apartment. Now that I’d gotten him off to school, I continued being all domestic and brewed some tea.

JP walked into the kitchen, frowning. “Here,” I said, handing him a cup of tea.

“Thank you,” he said, and tentatively took a sip of the hot liquid. “You must think I'm scum.”

“Why would I think that?” I asked. He gave me a dirty look for making him spell it out. “He’s the one who seduced you.”

“Yes, but I'm the adult and I'm the one who is supposed to say no,” he said, and was clearly agonized by this. I briefly contrasted him to Stefan. If Stef wasn’t with Greg, he wouldn’t have thought twice about getting Marcel to fuck him.

“So you caved to lust and desire,” I said, trying to sound like I was talking like a cheesy romance novel.

JP frowned at me. “I shouldn't have done that,” he said. “And as you are his guardian, I owe you an apology.”

“Nonsense,” I said, then felt mischievous. “It looked like fun,” I teased.

“You watched?” he asked, horrified.

“A little bit.” I kept grinning at him and he kept blushing. “Dad, just relax, OK. He idolizes you, and he sees you in pain, pain that he helped cause.”

“That does not excuse anything,” he said.

“This is his way of making it better, and of helping you both feel better,” I said authoritatively.

“You know what scares me about that?” I shook my head. “He reminds me of someone.”

I smiled big. “Stefan,” we said in unison, then broke into laughter.

“What are you and Robbie going to do next semester?” he asked, changing the subject.

“I want to go home, but he wants to stay here,” I said. “But whatever happens, we're going to be together.”

“You mean you'd sit here in Paris for another semester and just hang out, doing nothing?” He seemed amazed at that.

“I would,” I said, as if it were an oath. “I love him, Dad, and that means sometimes I have to make concessions and do what he needs. If he wants another semester in Paris, we'll stay. I'll find something to do.”

Robbie came in, yawning and stretching, the remnants of his morning hard-on pressing against his robe. “You're up early,” he said in reference to me, because JP was usually a morning riser.

“I'm always up this early,” I said, leering at him. “I got up to make sure Marcel got off to school. Before I could do that, I first had to find him.”

“I'm going to my study,” JP said in a huff and walked out, while I laughed at him.

“What's up?” Robbie asked, totally confused.

“Marcel seduced him last night,” I said.

“You saw him do it?” Robbie asked.

“I did,” I said, grinning.

“So that's why you woke me up in the middle of the night,” he said, and leaned down to give me a kiss.

“That’s why,” I said.

“I have to get ready,” he said, and went back to our room to take a shower. I was about to follow him when I heard the elevator ding, followed by a buzz at the door. I headed to the front door to see who was here so early in the morning.

I opened the door and managed to avoid looking shocked. “Hi Mouse,” I said simply.

“Is JP here?” he asked. He had a severe, determined look on his face.

“He's in his study,” I said, and moved aside to let him in.