An American Homo in Paris (5 page)

Aaron nodded. “Okay. That’s okay. I forgive you. I didn’t exactly handle suggesting a break well. And it’s not like…” He swallowed, and Benji saw red.

“A break? You
forgive
me? Are you fucking kidding me, Aaron?”
That’s three.
“You dumped me. You didn’t suggest a break. You suggested me being homeless halfway around the world from my family and friends, in a country where I can’t legally get a job. You’re an asshole. I gave you eight years of my life and you paid me back by cheating on me and looking down your nose at me. How long were you sleeping with Henri before you decided to go away with him?”

“It wasn’t like that. We just… you know. Working together. Late nights. Weekends busting tail on big projects. It was just a couple of hand jobs and some kissing. We thought this weekend would help us figure out what we wanted.”

“You know, the proper thing to do would be to talk to me first. Break up with me before you decide you’re going to fool around. If you didn’t want
me
anymore, why did you drag me to Paris?”

Aaron’s face grew hard, his eyebrows drawing together. “You changed, Benj. You weren’t all mopey and bitter back home. You were— god. Do you remember college? You weren’t just super hot, you were
fun
. You were like a local gaylebrity. Everyone loved you, and you picked me. And we were happy, right?”

“I thought we were.” Benji shrugged.

“Yeah, well, we get to Paris, and it’s like someone flipped a switch. That guy disappeared. You holed up in our apartment and slept all the time. We’d go to dinner and you wouldn’t speak to anyone. Sure, you went around to all the tourist sites, but dude, you aren’t a tourist. You live here.”

“I was lonely. And homesick. And depressed. We’d go to dinner and you’d ignore me to talk to people in a language I don’t speak.”

“You didn’t even try! Immersion is the best way to learn a language…”

“Actually, according to Ziri, immersion
without instruction
can make learning a language as an adult harder because of fear of failure and real-world consequences.”

“Oh, so I guess he’s an expert?” Aaron sneered. “You changed, Benji. Not me.”

And Benji was just beginning to see how true that was.

“You’re right, being lonely and depressed and homesick changes a person. I wouldn’t wish those things on anyone. But there’s nothing wrong with playing tourist. Why is blending in so damned important to you? Worth alienating me over?”

“Why did you always have to stand out? Ham it up? Take those ridiculous selfies?”

“It’s my job. And you said yourself, you liked being with the gaylebrity.” Bitterness swamped Benji. “Tell me the truth, right now. Why did you cut your romantic weekend with Henri short? Did it have anything to do with my YouTube Channel getting hundreds of thousands of hits yesterday?”

Aaron’s gaze skittered to the side, and Benji had all the answer he needed.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ve changed. I don’t want to be your trophy anymore.”

He left Aaron standing with his mouth open.

****

Au-Dessous de la Tour Eiffel, Encore

Ziri held Benji’s backpack slung over one shoulder, checking the clock on his phone compulsively, dying to know what was going on back at Benji’s apartment.

Were they getting back together? Did it matter? Hadn’t Ziri always said seduction on a deadline was the best way to conduct relationships? All the fun and none of the hurt? So why did this hurt? Why was Benji different?

Because it didn’t start out as seduction.

Sure, he’d been attracted— Benji was hot— but it was actually the tears that had intrigued him the most. He hadn’t been able to resist taking him around the city, showing off and cheering him up. And then last night— Ziri couldn’t stop reliving that moment when Benji refused to go home without a kiss.

And now?

With Aaron home, an apology on his lips, what did that mean?

Another glance at his phone told him it was five after twelve.

“Ziz!”

His head jerked up and around.
Benji.

Benji was walking toward him and smiling.
Smiling.

He stood and started running.

“Hey.” Benji took Ziri’s face between both hands, and then his lips were on Ziri’s and all the hurt and nerves and fear fell away.
Benji.

The kiss stretched on, earning them whistles from other people nearby. Ziri was sure he heard a couple of camera clicks. He didn’t care. He had an armful of his sassy American.

Benji broke away, breathless. “I owe you two more. I said his name once after you left.”

Ziri laughed and nipped a bite at Benji’s lower lip. “I’m keeping a running account.”

“Our videos went viral. My editor at the paper back home is trying to get me on some kind of salary so I can afford to stay here and keep blogging and doing the videos and everything.”

“Do you want to stay?”

Benji looked over at the tower, a look of naked longing on his face.

“I want to— I want to see. I want to explore this thing, between me and this city, and this other one.” He pulled Ziri’s hand onto his own chest, over his heart. “This thing with you. If you want to. I know we didn’t talk about any of that, and you thought I was leaving, and maybe you don’t want me to stay.”

“I want you.” It was true. It surprised Ziri, that it was that simple. “I want you to stay, and I— I just want you.”

“I don’t know where I’m going to live. I— shit, I have to call my mom. This is going to be so complicated.”

Ziri shook his head. “No, it’s really not. We’ll sort it out. In the meantime, I want those two kisses now.”

****

An American Homo in Paris on Instagram

The Eiffel Tower looms in the background as two men kiss in the foreground of the black and white image.

A caption reads:

Just the beginning.
#ziji #AHIP

The End

Author Bio

Author of over a dozen novels, novellas, and short stories, Vanessa North delights in giving happy-ever-afters to characters who don’t think they deserve them. Relentless curiosity led her to take up knitting and run a few marathons “just to see if she could.” She started writing for the same reason. Her very patient husband pretends not to notice when her hobbies take over the house. Living and writing in Northwest Georgia, she finds her attempts to keep a quiet home are frequently thwarted by twin boy-children and a very, very large dog.

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