It begins, of all things, with a glass of wine.
The wine is the color of dark red, a bright contrast to the translucence of the slender glass. He's dressed finely tonight, donning what little fancy clothes he could find in his old Camper, a modest white dress shirt to suit his old pair of slacks- which aren't his, originally, but his pa's- and his hair is sleeked back and the usual aviators on his face are gone.
On one arm is a charming girl whose name he cannot remember, as dulled as his senses are by the steady pouring of Wine down his throat. It's been an hour or two since he first decided to drink tonight, and he's well on his fifth- sixth- glass, and his mouth is yearning for more. There is still a bit of sense in him to acknowledge the fact that luckily I'm not the one paying for this bloody drink, because it must be bloody dear and God knows I haven't much coin to pay for it. He must've said that out loud, however, because the girl on his arm- wasn't she blonde just a moment ago- giggles, and a large meaty hand slaps him on the back (and he stumbles forward slightly by the blow), accompanied by a gruff voice that laughs and says Leetle man is not used to drink, da?
He's very close to saying some embarrassing alcohol-induced retort when he sees him, a slight man with pale skin and tailored-to-fit clothes, picking up a flute of sparkling wine with delicate fingers-and he thinks I've seen that man before, and he's making his way towards him, leaving the large man and the charming blonde-brunette woman behind him.
Up close, the smaller man is full of sharp angles, with eyes an even sharper shade of blue. The sparkling wine looks even better on the man's lips.
"I'm Richard," he says. It takes him a while to realize that the words have left his mouth before he could stop them.
Richard watches as the other man merely raises an eye brow at him, and he is thinking what in the bloody hell am I doing I'm not even thinking straight when the other replies.
"Jean."
That sounds like a girl's name flits through Richard's mind, but the wine is warm in his stomach and the soft tentative touch of Jean's hand on his forearm is even warmer, and he finds himself unable to think of anything else.
Richard has two weeks before his contract for the Reliable Excavation and Demolition begins, and in that frame he learns three things about Jean. One: Jean is- was- used to be a famous French actor before having to quit (due to an unexpected turn of events, Jean had said rather bitterly), and the reason why he was at the Mann Co. Welcome party was because he was invited there, and nothing else. Two: He is engaged to a woman named Catalina, who is currently waiting for him to 'tie up some loose strings'.
Three: He blushes a beautiful shade of red whenever Richard compliments him.
Richard knows that the third should bother him- that it should annoy him somehow, but it doesn't. In fact, it makes his heart leap in the most pleasant way, something that he hasn't felt for who knows how long.
It's the kind of two weeks before a long time that drags you down to despair before quickly hauling you up to acceptance. Two weeks are long enough, and not only is he busy, but Jean is too. Richard believes he is lucky to be able to spend at least three days a week with the other man in coffee shops and restaurants- three days a week, six days in total (if you count that one instance wherein they met coincidently at a local shopping district, Jean with his pretty fiancée at his arm and Richard with a shopping list written by his mother in his hand; fancy meeting you here, is that Catalina? She looks lovely. We're just spending as much time together before I get started with work, I have another contract, you see, and oh I hope it's another movie contract because I'd love to see you on film, and there's this sad little look in Jean's eyes before Richard catches himself and waves it away and says, well, I have to finish this up before dinner, nice seeing you, all the while with the hidden message in their stances that they'd meet at the Lobster restaurant Jean loves so much and Richard barely tolerates at the usual time tomorrow).
And maybe it's the intimacy and the secrecy of their meetings that gets Richard feeling like they're having an affair, and poor old mum's going to have a heart attack from discovering her son a poofter and grumpy old father would finally kick him out of the house, but what gets to him is the fact that Jean would be left behind by his pretty little thing of a fiancée and they could actually have an affair-
He never lets that particular thought wander any further, reminds himself that two equally manly and straight chums could meet every three in the afternoon at fancy lobster restaurants and coffee shops that provide coffee a tad too sweet.
The last time Richard meets up with Jean is the day he leaves for the train. It's another coincidence, but recently Richard's been hording all the coincidences and keeping them to himself, if it means getting to see the fancy French ex-movie star once again.
And with the way Jean's sharp blue eyes widen in shock and slowly warm up with familiarity upon seeing him, well, Richard believes he'd like to have as many coincidences he could gather.
"Heading south, mate?"
"Oui, but I'm supposed to be on a different train." Jean says this as casually he pleases, but there is an underlying note of disappointment in his tone. And then, "It is good seeing you again before we finally part, mon ami."
Richard thinks about the short span of six –seven- days they had together, around two hours each; thinks about the crisp French accent and the fancy suits, the sharply angled face and dark raven hair- soft as feathers, he imagines- and calculating blue eyes; thinks about Jean's soft, controlled laugh and the loud uncharacteristic ones coupled with a few snorts here and there if Richard says something witty and funny enough, and the way Jean's cheeks and nose and the tips of his ears turn a bright red upon realizing that he's lost control over his laughter again and it's rather degrading, and Richard insisting on how he likes it isn't helping.
Richard thinks about all this and finds that his heart is clenching painfully in his chest.
"See you around, slim." He says.
Once their respective trains arrive, they part without another word.