Roman - Part 12

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"Are you good?"

Roman's muscular frame took up the entirety of the middle seat, but his arms bulged onto the seats either side of him, where a young boy sat squashed on one side, and I, on the other.

"Yep" he said simply, his eyes burning into the flight attendant who was showing people how to use an oxygen mask.

I stared at him for a moment. Roman's face had turned somewhat pale. His lips were pressed tight together and a sheen of fresh sweat covered his forehead. I cocked a brow and felt the smile on my face.

"Are you um... Are you scared of flying?"

He looked at me like I'd insulted his first born child. "No!" He scoffed, swallowing, "of course I'm not scared".

"You look scared" the random boy said, making me choke with laughter.

"Well I'm not".

I slid my hand into his sweaty one and he squeezed it almost painfully. In all the time I'd known him, I'd never once seen him afraid, and there was something kind of sweet about it.

When the pre-flight checks had all been done, we took off and it wasn't until the seatbelt sign finally vanished that Roman took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. My hand had become numb.

"Sorry" he mumbled, relaxing his grasp, "just uh... Yeah, I guess I really don't like flying".

I stared at him for a moment. "So why did you book us flights to Paris?" I laughed.

"Because I'm the best boyfriend in the world" he told me, and the plane hit turbulence and Roman yelped.

The flight was one of the longest I'd ever been on. The vast blue sky above the clouds became darker and darker until only the hue of computer screens and built in televisions could be seen in the cabin. Roman barely moved a muscle for the entire journey, but at some point during the night, I fell asleep against his shoulder, and when I woke, we had arrived.

"I wasn't actually scared" he said confidently as we strolled through the airport, dragging our luggage behind us, "I knew the kid next to me was, so I just wanted to make him feel better".

"Right" I nodded with a grin, "of course you weren't".

He threw me a cold look, but grabbed my hand as we continued.

It felt quite strange to be holding hands in public. Sure, we'd done it a few times back home, but always with the threat of some homophobic slurs hanging over our heads. As we left the airport and approached the bus which would take us to our hotel, I noticed a group of teenage boys and girls, and admittedly, I became a little uncomfortable.

"What's wrong?" He asked, as I began to worm my hand out of his. I didn't answer, but he followed my gaze toward the gang and chuckled.

"We're in Europe, Davey" he said, and without another word, Roman grabbed my chin, lifted my head and kissed me deeply, just feet away from the group.

My eyes widened. Holding hands was one thing, but two men kissing was surely going to attract unwanted attention. I felt my stomach squirm as he released me, and when I looked back, only some of the group had noticed, and they smiled.

"I can't believe they actually smiled" I gasped, for the tenth time as we sat on the bus, "they actually smiled".

"Things are different here" Roman explained, "if it wasn't for the food, I'd live here forever".

I considered it, too. Being free to be myself was a freedom that I knew well in my own house, but once I left the safety of my immediate family, it was always safer to be someone else. Someone straight. Here, however, it appeared that I didn't need to wear a mask.

The moment we left the airport, the white skies began to pummel the streets with snow. It turned the city into a wonderland, and all I could do was watch out the window as we passed old buildings, big and small, soccer stadiums, tourist attractions and thousands of people sauntering through the busy streets of Paris.

"I love it" I told him, as we watched the scenes go by, "it's..."

"Magical" he whispered in my ear, and kissed my cheek.

By the time we reached the hotel, Roman had fallen asleep, evidently exhausted from the flight. It was a stunning building, situated within viewing distance of the Eiffel Tower, so that when I stood on the balcony as Roman snored on the bed, I could see the entire thing.

A knock sounded on the door, and when I opened it, a very smart looking man in a suit held a silver tray with two expensive looking bottles of wine, and one very expensive looking bottle of champagne.

"Complimentary, sir" he smiled, and I gawped at him.

"Oh um... I uh... I'm..." I looked around and felt a bit stupid, "I'm not twenty one".

The man's smile only widened as he stepped into the room and walked over to one of the tables. He placed two wine glasses and two champagne flutes down, followed by the three bottles, and I cocked a brow.

"Here" he said, holding up white gloved hands, "if you can go to war, you can drink some wine".

I smiled back, just as the man noticed Roman on the bed. It was still an uncomfortable feeling to see the realisation hit people, and when the man looked back at me, I almost instinctively prepared to defend myself.

"Ah" he said, and walked toward me, "L'amour est le miracle de la civilisation".

I had no idea what he had said, but it sounded nice, and I realised again that being gay here was not an issue.

"Love is the miracle of civilisation, young man".

He left the room and my heart fluttered in my chest. I really was beginning to love this place.

I considered waiting for Roman to wake up before opening one of the bottles. I'd never been much of a drinker, and after the last time, I wasn't sure that I wanted to drink at all, but as the snow fell heavier and the daylight began to fade away, I decided that one little glass wouldn't do any harm.

Wrapped in my winter coat, with gloves and a scarf, I did what I never imagined I'd do, and I poured a glass of wine and sat out on the balcony, watching Paris from above and feeling like the luckiest guy on the entire planet.

I guess I was the luckiest guy on the entire planet. Since meeting Roman, my life had been transformed. My family finally knew my deep, dark secret. I was getting on with them better than I ever had before, and to top it all off, I had Roman, who was most certainly the man of my dreams.

As the Eiffel Tower lit up through the mist that had descended on the city, all I could do was grin and sip.

"Look at you being all independent and shit" Roman beamed from the doorway, and I turned to find him wearing only his boxer briefs. The sight made me shiver.

"You're going to freeze to death" I told him, but the truth was that I could have looked at him like that forever.

"Not if I have you to warm me up" he smirked, and held out his hand.

I stood up, leaving my wine on the table, and watched as the snow fell and melted on his shredded body. He kissed me passionately as cathedral bells rang out in the distance, and once again, Roman simply blew my mind.

"We have a dinner reservation downstairs at seven" he told me, "then I want to take you somewhere".

"Take me somewhere?" I asked, nervously excited, "where?"

"Well it wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you that, would it?" He asked, smiling, "now get changed, we need to look like we're not two American kids who got lost in Paris".

The hotel was exquisite. I'd never been inside a building that was as old and spectacular as it was. Downstairs, the place heaved with life. Suit wearing men and beautiful women in long, tight dresses strolled around, sipping from neat glasses and chatting casually amongst themselves. The man who had delivered the drinks to the room noticed us instantly and said "magnifique!"

Roman smiled, I did, too, and the man led us toward a small table near the window, where a candle danced between us, and a waiter brought us bread and more wine.

"I'm going to be fucked up" I whispered, as the red liquid glugged into my glass.

"You drink slow and you eat" the waiter said in a very thick French accent, and my cheeks turned the same colour as the wine as he hurried off.

"Do they all speak English?" I asked, mortified and Roman sniggered and nodded.

The food was delicious. The restaurant was outstanding. The service was unlike anything I had ever known back home, and as the two of us sat there, eating, drinking and talking, I was once again reminded how amazing life was.

"You look good in a tux" Roman said, wiping his mouth on a napkin.

"You do, too" I replied, and it was true, "but you look even better without one".

His lip curled to a devious smile.

"You always get brave when you're drinking" he told me, his eyes sparking from the candlelight, "I'll have to sober you up so you can go back to being as quiet as a mouse".

"Shut up" I laughed, and he took my hand in his across the table.

"I love you, Davey" he said, and his face was serious, "I don't think I've ever loved anybody as much in my life".

For some stupid reason I felt tears begin to well, but I coughed them away and grinned. He was able to make me grin so easily.

"Come on" he said, and stood up, and I followed him back out of the restaurant and toward the front doors.

"Have a beautiful evening, gentlemen" the man called after us, and I waved back as Roman pulled me out into the snowy streets.

It wasn't as busy anymore, but we still had to weave in and out of crowds as we almost ran toward a huge park that lay in the shadows of the Eiffel Tower.

"Where are we going?" I laughed, as he pulled me further into the crisp, frozen darkness. He didn't answer me until we reached a point where it felt like we were completely alone in a city of millions.

We kissed again. I never thought I'd become so fascinated by kissing, but Roman had unlocked that desire in me, and now I could happily spend every waking minute of the day with my lips against his.

"Happy Christmas, Davey" he whispered, and more bells rang from afar as the lights on the tower twinkled and the snow danced around us.

"Happy Christmas, Roman".

We stood there, looking up at the beautiful scenery. His arm draped around my shoulders and I snuggled into him for warmth, and a moment later he pulled an entire bottle of Champagne from inside his pants.

"I couldn't fit the glasses" he laughed, as the cork exploded into the night, "so as long as you don't have cooties, we can drink straight from the bottle".

I laughed as he gulped and handed it to me. "I have so many cooties" I told him, and gulped too, and then he took it back, chugged from it and shrugged.

"I guess we both do, now".

As we shared the most magical moment of my life, I couldn't think of a happier memory, but the night wasn't over yet, and I knew in my heart that it was finally time.

"I want you" I whispered, and he looked down at me, "tonight".