Christmas in France

"Flash"

Everything begins with a flash, even if it is from a lightning or from a camera's light. Our life is like a flash, lighting the world from some brief moments, and then fading out like it never existed.

"Flash"

Another flash and the goggled green eyes before the camera shined his reddish brown strands of hair falling over his goggles, Matt clicked his camera again, capturing the snow falling, almost covering the Eiffel Tower in its wild dance. A pair of lovers sharing a passionate kiss provided the best qualiy for the most romantic picture he had taken for a while now. As the couple moved, never breaking for air, he clicked his camera again.

"They seem so in love I almost feel jealous…" Matt whispered, contradicting himself with a bright smile. He was so enjoying his job those days! Christmas was the perfect period to capture loving pairs, stolen kissed under the mistletoe, happy mothers with their children shopping… "Christmas Eve…in France." he sighed. He would like it a lot more of the magazine he worked for had sent him in Germany. At that time of the year, the whole city of Berlin was covered in white, puffy snow. To the contrary, here in France snow was never enough to satisfy his need for spectacular sights.

"Oh well…" he muttered, clicking repeatedly his camera. Some stray snowflakes had landed on his arms. He blew them away and they dashed in the wind, along with their sisters. He laughed and shook his head, making more snowflakes to fly from his cap. "Man, I must seem like a snowman!" he sighed.

He stared at his fingers, blue from the freezing cold and the wind. Moving them as steady as he could, he put his camera in its case and zipped it up. Now it was safe, he was ready to spend the Christmas Eve night somewhere cozy, along with a cup of Jin and, why not, some cake. He decided that, with his rent car, it was easy to access Cartier Latin, one of the most famous boulevards of France and afford a couple of drinks in a sophisticated bar...

He crept inside his frozen car, an old Fabia, color red. He set the engine on and waited for the small place to warm, shivering and fumbling with his black coat and fingerless gloves. "Damn, it's freezing!" he huffed and breathed against his hands. His breath formed clouds of white puffs in the air and blurred his goggles. "I bet it's colder in here that out there…" he muttered and pushed the gas, setting the car on the move.

As he passed the roads with his Fabia, he could see happy people wandering around. It was still early, nine in the afternoon. Beautiful women along with their husbands were shopping, small children were having fan playing with the snow. In three hours from now, all of them would gather in front of the Christmas table, dancing to the sound of Christmas songs and drinking wine…

"At least wine is not Christmas labeled…" Matt joked, thinking of his own solitude those hours of joy. He who had no mother to call, no father to be scolded by, no brothers to have fun with…He who had run away from the orphanage he grew up would now spent one of the most happy nights of the year all alone, in a country where no one knew him.

"Bravo, Matt…" he said to himself with his flawless French-Canadian accent. "I expected more from you, boy…" he muttered and turned on the radio.

"I don't want a lot for Christmas
There's just one thing I need
I don't care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is...
You..."

The happy jingle of Maria Carey's voice ended in a perfect high note and left Matt staring speechless at the radio. Driving slowly at the right side of the road, he stopped right in front of a small park. Despite the freezing wind and the snow flying in his car, he opened the window and grabbed the radio, disconnecting it.

"All I asked for was a good damn song…And you send me this?" he yelled, looking upwards. With an angry growl he threw the radio behind a clump. "Damn you, radio!" he yelled and huffed, trying to calm himself with a couple of slow, deep breaths.

"Can you, at least, not throw radios on stranger's heads?" an angry, pained voice was heard behind the clump, and a blond head appeared between the leaves. "Use a godamned trash bean! There's one in every ten meters!" the blond shouted.

"If you weren't hiding behind the clump I'd have seen you!" Matt shouted and opened the car's door to approach the blond.

"You would have seen me if you weren't wearing those stupid goggles! Outch.." whined the blond while rubbing his pained head

"Are you ok? I'm so-"

"Don't say you're sorry!" the blond cut him off, piercing through him with his unbelievably blue eyes. Matt stared at him in awe, unable to move or speak. "If you were" the blond continued, seemingly ignoring the effect he had over Matt "you'd have said it from the start! You rude ignorant!" he almost spat at Matt's face, finally immerging behind the clump, dusting his clothes.

"Uh…yeah…" Matt stuttered in a loss of words.

"Ha! So you recognize I'm right!" said the blond, overflowing with triumph.

"Yeah…I mean no!" Matt shouted, awakening from his slumber. "It's your fault for hiding, after all! I don't possess the Superman Vision!"

Those blue eyes landed on him with all their mighty power. A leather gloved hand appeared and tucked some stray blond locks behind his ear, revealing a scar covering almost the two quarters of the left side of his face. "You're not from France, are you?" he asked and smirked.

"You can tell, huh?" Matt smiled a little ashamed, because half of him was actually French.

"Mhmm. French-Canadian, I suppose? You've got a weird accent." the blond teased and bit his lower lip.

"Well, you see, my mother was French, and I was born in France…But that's all I know." He lowered his shoulders and put his hands in his coat's pockets. "By the way you don't look French, either." he commented, diverting the attention from him.

"I'm from Russia. My name is Mello." said the blond and stretched his hand out for a handshake.

"Matt." Said the redhead and shook Mello's hand for what seemed like an extended moment.

"Nice. Now we know each other's name and country…" Mello smiled and gestured towards the car, with its doors still wide open "can you tell me why you tried to kill me with your radio?" he teased.

"Oh, that?" Matt smiled guiltily "It's a long story…" he murmured under his breath.

"Well it's…" Mello checked his watch "...almost ten o'clock and, if I can tell, no one waits for you home." he gave Matt a knowing look. "What about we spend the Christmas Eve together?" he suggested, rubbing his hands against each other to warm them up.

"So no one waits for you, either…" Matt commented rather than asked, leading Mello to his car.

"If they were, I wouldn't be hiding behind the clump…" Mello growled and sat next to the driver's seat.

…

As it proved, Mello knew every aspect of France, along with the most infamous bars. Underground placed when you could lost yourself into cheap alcohol, smoke and loud music. If you had enough money, you could even get a woman for the night and numerous dubious drugs that would either send you flying the stairs up to Heaven or take you to a short trip…downstairs.

There was one of these bars, somewhere hidden among old fashioned buildings, a basement filled with smoke and drunk people sitting on the bar stools. Mello leaded them downstairs and opened the heavy door to the bar. A wave of loud pop music swallowed them and the flashing of colorful lights blinded Matt. He felt Mello taking him from his hand and leading his near the bar. "Watch out!" he heard him yelling in his ear.

"Where the fuck did you find this place?" Matt yelled to the top of his lugs, fighting to be heard above the noise. A half nude woman appeared in front of him and blocked his way.

"Merry Christmas, boy! You wanna have fan with me tonight?" she mewled, nuzzling against him.

"Christmas in tomorrow, tonight he has me." Mello said in a threatening tone that made the woman lose her color and voice along. She stuttered something and got out of the way as quickly as she could .

Matt stared gaping at the blond who was now smiling. "Wow…" he admired. "You sure are badass with women."

"Only when they deserve it…I knew this one." Mello laughed "She's always either drunk or high. When she's sober, she searches for something to blow or drink." He rolled his eyes and huffed, ordering Vodka from the bar.

Matt arched a brow and slid his coat off, suddenly standing out from the monotone black color of the bar. Mello looked curiously at the strapped white and red blouse, the old, faded out skinny jeans and the reddish hair. He also noted the camera case hanging from his shoulder. When Matt lit a cigarette, he smiled knowingly.

"A smoker jailbird who makes a living through taking photos? " he asked and sipped his Vodka.

"Short of." Matt ordered Jin and shove it down in a gulp, at which Mello smirked.

"A bibber, too. Nice compilation…"

….

Many Vodkas and Jins later

"-And then I told her, what the fuck, you mean it?" Matt laughed hysterically, supporting his weight on the bar.

"Haha, and what she said?" Mello asked, folded in two holding his stomach.

"She said yes!" and they both burst into laughers so loud that make the rest of the patrons to stare at the duo.

"Pffff…." Mello huffed and drunk the last gulp of his Vodka. "My head fucking hurts…" he complained and covered his eyes with his hand.

"The thing is…" Matt said, suddenly serious "I don't have a place to spent the night." He laughed "I forgot to book a room at the Hotel…"

"Come, it's late." Mello said and threw Matt's coat over him. "Let's go my place."

They exited the bar slowly. It was half past one o'clock, pretty late for anyone to be in the streets. By that time everybody was having fun round the tables, eating the traditional Christmas Eve's meal. The freezing cold outside the crumbed bar reminded Mello that the last time he had someone paying him a visit was in Russia, two or three years ago. And, maybe for the first time since he rent that small apartment in France, he felt lonely. Next to him, Matt was staring at the snow that kept on falling, covering the streets and the few parked cars on the sides of the small road.

"It's beautiful…" Matt whispered and smiled despite the cold and the snowflakes falling on his reddish hair and face. "I want to capture it and share it with the world…That's why I became a photographer. To please everyone who loves beauty."

"Yeah, yeah, let's go now before we catch a cold!" Mello hurried him laughing "It won't be a beautiful sight if you have a runny nose tomorrow!" He pushed Matt into the driver's seat and crept into the small car himself. "Come on, I'll lead us home."

…

His place was a small rooftop, old and out of fashion, but cozy at least. Mello pushed the central door open and led them to the last floor of the old building, many stairs up. When they reached his door, both of them were panting.

"You couldn't find a taller building, huh? A skyscraper, per say?" Matt laughed among his panting and help Mello find the keys to his door. When they managed it inside, a wave of hot air hit them and made their cheeks blush.

"Man, it's hot in here…" Matt sighed and unwrapped his scarf, throwing it on the first armchair he found, along with his coat. "I love it…" he whispered and threw himself on the same armchair, stretching his arms and legs.

"It's old." Mello murmured and took his coat of, giving Matt the chance to pry of his attire. His eyes slid from the leather jacket to his tight leather pants and the belt spangling them, for there was no need of a belt on such a tight pair of leather pants. The black leather boots completed the rock appearance.

"How old…?" Matt asked himself, unable to take his eyes off of the young man.

"Dunno, thirty, forty maybe." He said and curiously looked at Matt. "Why you ask?"

"N-not the house! You…." Matt stuttered, overtaken by the power or Mello's eyes. He felt something sliding along his spine, and he understood he was shivering under his gaze.

"I'm twenty one…" Mello said slowly, still staring at him. "Why you ask?" he asked again and took a step closer, never breaking eyes contact with him.

"I want to picture those eyes of yours…They're unique." Matt whispered, forgetting to answer, and stretched out his hand as if to touch his face, but unzipped his camera case instead. "May I?" he asked and uncapped the lens, looking Mello through the glass. When Mello nodded, he smiled lightly and took his goggles off for the first time that night, revealing a pair of forest green eyes, so bright that Mello's breath hitched.

"Wow…" he gaped at Matt. "Where did you hide those eyes….?" he whispered.

"Behind my goggles, I suppose…" Matt smirked and nodded him to sit somewhere.

Mello sat on the couch next to the armchair staring at Matt's eyes through the thick lens of the camera and smirked. "Should I take these off?" he asked and stiped himself of his jacket and boots. Only with his pants on he lay back at the couch and parted his legs slightly.

"Stretch your neck…" Matt said lightly and his camera flashed twice. "Yeah, like this…"

It came out so natural, like Mello had been a model for years and Matt had been exercising on him since he stared. They didn't need to talk after that, just a look above the flashing camera, just a nod of a slight move of Matt's fingers and Mello knew what to do, where to place his hands, who to pronounce his body.

But Matt's focus was mainly in his eyes. This sapphire blue color was so rare, it made his mind spin with new ideas, it made his heart jump in his chest…New emotions flew out of him, emotions he didn't even know he had. Every click of his camera was a new page in history, his history. He felt amused by how the air had grown so heavy, how he could feel the need to take more photos of Mello, so more personal.

"Stop staring like that…" Mello growled, and Matt realized he had been staring above his lens for quite a long time. His sight slipped against the blonde's arched neck, it caressed his slightly parted lips, it dived into his deep ocean eyes and stuck there.

"Like what…?" he panted, feeling more and more the tension between them rising.

"Your eyes are striping me off…" Mello whispered and cupped the camera with his hand, accidentally touching Matt's hand. His fingers left a burning scar on his flesh, and Matt felt his blood boiling and rushing to parts it shouldn't be.

"Stop talking unless you want my hands to finish my sight's job." he breathed and knelt on the floor, quickly putting and zipping the camera in its case. Before he could rise, he felt something sitting heavily on his lap and something wet sliding along his neck. He turned his head and found a pair of lips centimeters away from his, ready to be kissed. "M-Mello?" he gaped.

"Mhmm?" Mello hummed and his fingers danced on his face and stopped on his neck, then dived in his blouse. His hips grounded against his, and a moan escaped Matt's lips.

"You're drunk, Mello..." he murmured and his hands fell on his sides. His heart was racing, something he recognized as need rushed in his veins. Involuntarily he leaned closer to the blond, rested his head on his shoulder and he felt Mello's hands circling his body.

"I want you…" Mello moaned in his ear and his hands crept underneath his blouse, passionately touching him and sliding his hands along his chest. "I want you, Matt." He almost pleaded and kissed his neck again.

"It's wrong." Matt said but let the blond take of his blouse, toss it on the floor and glide against him, placing kisses anywhere he could reach.

"It's not." Mello moaned and slid his hand in Matt's jeans. His lips found their way to Matt's, and when they kissed nothing mattered anymore.

Mello's breathing, his skin, hot against his body, his hands caressing and groping, his nails scraping and digging… His jeans were taken off, his pants were tossed aside. When did Mello climbed over him, when did his tongue started licking all the way down his belly button? He screamed his name when he felt his length engulfed in Mello's mouth, he tangled his fingers in his golden locks and held him down.

Despair…

Only one thought was shared between them.

'I'll die if I don't have you now.'

Mello closed his eyes and gulped. Though it was still snowing outside, his windows were blurry and sweat was streaming down his body. May it be the Vodka, he couldn't feel but the pressure of another body against him, Matt's lips diving in the curve of his neck, his hands acting on their own, reaching out for him.

…That feeling of suppressed explosion in his belly….

He held onto Matt, gasping and moaning out his pleasure as he strived to breathe. That short moment when their eyes met, time stopped, but the next moment it rushed forward, bringing them one step closer to their personal Heaven.

…

When Mello opened his eyes, almost half an hour later, he realized he was sleeping on the floor with a mop of red hair on his chest heaving and falling along with his breathing pace. He sighed and his head fell back again while his hand came to rub his temples. He knew it wasn't such a good idea to bring him home, but God how he needed that body…How he lusted to touch him even now, to awaken his senses again...

He remebered how hurried he had been, how needy, and he blushed. He remembered how Matt had clinged to him, how he had been pushing him into him, how lustfuly he had been calling his name...He hoped he hadn't been to harsh to him, lost into his need and waves of passion...

"Pure boy…" he whispered and caressed the mop.

"Mhhmmm…yeah, it hurts, thanks a lot for asking…" the mop commented and a pair of green, hazy eyes fought their way among the reddish locks, finally staring into Mello's azure ones.

"I thought you were sleeping." Mello smiled hesitantly and fixed his eyes in Matt's.

"What?" asked the latter.

"I'm waiting…" Mello said. Matt's brows arched and were lost into his hair.

"Waiting? What for….?" He mused and laid his head on Mello's chest again, circling his hands around his torso.

"For you to freak out, maybe…?" Mello said, surprised to Matt's reaction. The latter laughed lightly and nuzzled against him.

"Nah, not today…" he said "Don't take me wrong, I don't use to sleep with men I don't know, but…" he gazed up at Mello and smiled truthfully "You're different." he said.

"I'm….a man." Mello commented, his eyes wide in shock and surprise. His heart stopped when he heard Matt laugh, sending vibrations all over his body.

"Yes, I'm painfully aware of that!"

They shared a moment of silence, the only thing sounding in the room being their breathing. The snow kept falling outside the window, piling on the ledge. Matt sighed contently. It was warm and cozy in Mello's arms…

"So…" Mello finally said "you don't mind that we had…?"

"Sex? Well, I'd prefer to call it love, but... No…" Matt smiled "I thought you had understood I'm into men, Mells…" he murmured, and sent Mello's heart flying outside his chest in happiness.

"You are?" he yelped and his voice cracked. Matt sat straight and gave him a weird look.

"Uh, yes? Why so surprised?" he asked and placed his palm on Mello's cheek.

"We were a little drunk, so I thought-"

"that I didn't know what I was doing..? No…" Matt smiled and leaned closer to Mello, placing a soft kiss upon his lips. "I needed that...I like you a lot more than you think..." he breathed against him and slid down again with his face hidden in Mello's neck.

Mello brought his legs closer to his torso, so that Matt could rest using his body as a pillow and hoped onto the couch. Finally content, he half closed his eyes, still looking outside. The dawn was near, already dissolving the dim colors of the night. A happy thought slipped into his soul and placed a smile on his lips. He hugged Matt closer and felt him nuzzling against him.

"Merry Christmas, Matt…" he whispered.

"Merry Christmas, Mells…" said Matt softly.

And slowly, as slowly as the snow was falling on the roads of France, they drifted off to sleep while Christmas dawned for the rest of the world outside the small apartment…

The end

Due to the Christmas Eve and for those who are forced (or chose) to spent the festive in another country…!

Why I chose France? I have no idea! Maybe becase of the Eiffel Tower...(Nothing personal, either with France or with the French-Canadians, I just didn't think of something better O.o)

Reviews apreciated!

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Till my next story

xxx