Most days, Jean still woke up wondering if the whole thing had been some crazy dream. He had to keep coming to terms with the fact was actually living in this bougie new apartment, paid for completely by a man he'd only met a couple of months before.

At first he thought that Trant wasn't being serious. Sometimes his clients said things that they didn't mean after sex. And before sex. During sex. Clients could be so full of shit. It took Trant a while to convince Jean that he meant it, and even longer to convince him to take him up on the offer.

This was his third week at his new place and he had barely seen or spoken to Trant. He was away when Jean moved in, but a week later he came over with gift of a large plant and helped Jean to unpack and organise his things. Trant didn't stay long after they had finished, and in hindsight Jean realised he had been short-tempered and snapped at him a few times. He hadn't meant to, moving had just been so fucking overwhelming. Trant didn't know that. He probably thought Jean was an asshole.

A few days later a delivery to replace his worn second-hand furniture arrived, as well as several items he had never owned, like a dining table and bookshelves. Trant sent a note with the delivery saying he hoped Jean was settling in well.

Trant called a couple of days ago to ask how Jean was doing and to let him know that he was going on a business trip. Jean didn't have much to say. In truth he felt so fucking lost and out of place here. But he couldn't tell Trant that, he didn't want Trant to think he was ungrateful, so he just told him that he was doing fine. Trant talked a while about where he was going and told Jean he would visit when he came back.

Jean had ventured out a few times to explore the city. He knew where the best places to buy cigarettes and booze were. And places to get food. For once money wasn't an issue for him. Trant had set up a bank account in his name containing more money than Jean had ever had in his life. The apartment bills would be covered by Trant separately, so this account was purely for whatever Jean wanted. That money bothered Jean. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to want. He tried buying more expensive food and booze, but it barely made a dent in the money. Trant said he would top up the account every month, and Jean wondered if Trant would judge him for spending too much or not enough. This was like some new game that he didn't know the rules of.

There were some parts of this that Jean liked. Not being held to a schedule that could be changed at a moment's notice. No more dealing with abusive and annoying clients. No more worrying about bills. And there were certainly some people he was glad to be away from. But he didn't know anyone around here except for Trant. And even when things were shit, there was something to be said about familiarity. And there was none of that here.

He had a vague fear in the back of his mind that he was fucking this thing up and any day some tough guys would show up at the door and throw him out. He had expected Trant to basically come and live with him, he was paying for this whole apartment and paying for Jean to be there. Jean knew Trant had a son at home and often went on business trips, but even so he hadn't expected Trant to be so absent. Maybe Trant would realise this was all a dumb idea and not worth it. Jean hadn't been the best company when Trant had come over, if he was still working for the agency he would have expected a complaint after that. That might be the reason why he hadn't come over again, or maybe he just didn't have time for Jean. Either way, he had a bad feeling about this.

Jean was starting to wonder if he should just leave before he was thrown out. He didn't belong in this place. He drank a lot to distract himself, and did some of the drugs he had left, but tried to spread them out to make them last. In hindsight he should have asked his old dealers if they had any contacts here. He bought a few books and videos, but nothing particularly interested him once he got it home. It was like being stuck in limbo. No point relaxing and getting used to things. It'd all be over soon enough. He didn't want to stay here, but he'd given up the meagre life he had built for himself back home. If he went back, he'd be starting again from the bottom. And if he couldn't get his old job back he'd be relying on being able to sleep on someone's couch. Whatever happened, if he went home it'd be even worse than before. So for now, he stayed.

A few days ago he'd seen a poster for an open day at the local college and decided to go along. There were so many people there, and they all looked very young, some accompanied by parents even. This was another place that Jean didn't feel like he belonged. College had seemed like a nice idle daydream to have while he'd worked as an escort, but now it was a real possibility, Jean wasn't sure if it was even what he wanted to do.

Later, he regretted walking out of there without talking to anyone, only grabbing a free pen before he left. He had been handed literally everything he could have ever dreamed of on a platter, and still he found a way to fuck things up. What the hell was wrong with him? It was like some part of him just wouldn't let him be happy.

Well, whatever. Trant hadn't told him he had to go to college, Trant had said he could do anything he wanted. Which included doing fuck all. It was only now that Jean had to opportunity to try it that he realised how boring it was. The days were so long when nobody was telling him what to do.

The next day he spent lying on the couch drinking and on the verge of calling Trant to tell him this wasn't working out and he was going to leave. But he passed out before he could pick up the phone.

Another day went by in a blur. Once again he thought about calling Trant. But what would he say? Pretend everything was great, or be honest and admit he was having second thoughts about all of this? Did Trant even want to hear from him? Maybe it'd be better if he left him alone. At least until he was in a better frame of mind. He laughed to himself. As if he was ever in a better frame of mind.

But Trant had left him those phone numbers for a reason, and he'd specifically said he could call him any time, not just if there was an emergency.

He held his breath as the receptionist tried to transfer him to Trant's room.

"Hello?"

Jean tried not to read anything into Trant's tone of voice. "Hey Trant."

"Oh, Jean, it's so good to hear from you. I know you must have been busy so I didn't want to call you again and bother you. How are things going?"

Jean took a breath. Trant sounded cheerful and full of energy as usual. "I wanted to call you but I thought you were busy."

Trant laughed. "Now aren't we a pair?" he said. "I'm never too busy for you, Jean, try to remember that."

Jean wasn't sure what to say. Did Trant really mean it? Or was it just a lie meant to pacify him?

"Hello? Are you there?"

"I'm here."

"Good. I thought we got cut off for a second. Telephone lines really aren't the most reliable things, unfortunately. But I am most grateful for them at times like this when I'm separated from the people I care about."

"Yeah, they're pretty useful."

"So, are you all settled into your new apartment now?"

Jean looked around. It was nice, he had everything he needed, but settled in? He wasn't sure if he would ever feel like he belonged here. But Trant didn't want to hear that. "Yeah, I guess so."

"I'd love to hear what you've been keeping yourself busy with."

"How long have you got? Seriously, too many things to mention."

Trant either didn't catch Jean's sarcasm or chose to ignore it. "Really? That's great," he said. "How about I come and visit you when I get back home? Then you can tell me all about it, and I'll tell you all about my trip?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," Jean said.

"Great. Fantastic. Well, I arrive back on Wednesday, so I'll come and see you on Thursday."

"Thursday? Okay, sure, it's a date."

"Yes indeed. A date. I look forward to seeing you, Jean."

Jean hoped he meant it. "Yeah, so do I."

"Well, until then. Goodbye for now."

"Yeah. Bye."

Jean put the phone down. It had only been a short conversation, but it had lifted Jean's mood considerably. Maybe he was being too cynical before. He had only just moved in here to be Trant's… what exactly? Sugar baby? Kept man? Jean shuddered. There was no nice word for what he was. Boyfriend? That seemed rather presumptuous. And suggested a level of equality that their relationship didn't have. Hopefully he could avoid explaining his situation to anyone else so it wouldn't come up. He'd told some of his fellow escorts where he was going, but they understood, in their world this sort of thing wasn't common, but it did happen. People on the outside might view Jean as some sort of freak, or prisoner.

But whatever. Those people didn't need to know. Jean could be happy here with Trant. After this kinda shit start, things might get better. From now on, hopefully he'd see Trant more often. He thought about those days they'd first spent together those short months ago. It was so good. Good enough that he hadn't wanted their time together to end. And Trant had agreed. It could be like that again. Maybe.

Jean smiled as he thought about Trant. His smile. His effortless sense of style. The way he made him feel so special. The gentle way he touched and kissed him. He was a lucky man.

Trant let himself into his house as quietly as he could, hoping to slip upstairs to his room without being noticed, but before he could even finish taking his shoes off, his wife came to greet him.

"Trant, you're back late," Elise said.

He tucked the laces carefully into his shoes and placed them on the shoe rack, then turned to her. "Yes, my flight was delayed," he said.

Elise looked uncomfortable, she twisted her hands together and picked at a nail. "How was your trip?" she asked.

Trant heard some footsteps from upstairs. Odd. "It was fine. We managed to get to the bottom of the mystery of why their previous financial director left. They thought they could cover their tracks, but not well enough that I couldn't uncover them," Trant said with a smile. "Although, I think I may have picked something up at the aerodrome or on the aircraft. My head is full of congestion and I have been seized with repeated bouts of sneezing." He heard more footsteps and cast his eyes upwards. "Is Mikael still awake?"

"No, he went to bed hours ago," Elise said. Now she had her arms folded and was fiddling with her sleeve.

Trant frowned, and listened for more noises. "Is there someone else in the house?"

Elise sighed. "Okay, yes. I didn't know how to tell you, but Gregor is still here," she said.

Trant covered his mouth before sneezing twice. "I see. Did you forget I was coming home today?"

"No, I remembered. He's really struggling with bills at the moment and they've cut off his electric. He doesn't have anywhere else to go. Look, Trant, I would have told you, but I didn't want you to overreact."

Trant frowned at her. "What's that supposed to mean? I wouldn't overreact."

Elise shook her head. "You know how you get sometimes."

"Okay," Trant said, holding out a placating hand. "How long is he staying for?"

Elise tugged on her sleeve. "I don't know. I said until he can get his electric switched back on. He won't let me pay for it."

"Then I'll pay for it," Trant said, then faltered and added, "unless he also finds that unacceptable."

She shook her head. "He's a very proud man," she said.

"I'd rather he didn't stay for very long. If at all possible."

Elise frowned, deep lines appearing on her forehead and between her eyebrows. "Do you want me to send him home to mark homework by candlelight and take cold showers?"

"Well, of course not, not if you put it like that," Trant said, and wanted to add something more but his wife changed the subject before he could.

"Oh, that reminds me, I had to go to the bank and while I was there I checked the balance on our accounts, and a lot of money has disappeared from one of them. Do you know anything about that?"

Trant sneezed again. He suddenly felt very tired. He didn't want to deal with that question right now. Telling his wife about Jean was something he did plan to do, but it didn't feel like the right time to do so, least of all because it felt like it might undermine his complaints about her boyfriend being here. "Yes yes, don't worry about that. There's a new project I'm working on."

"What sort of project?" she asked, but before Trant could answer, there was a sound of footsteps running downstairs.

"Dad!" Mikael said, running and launching himself at Trant's legs.

"Mikael, you're supposed to be sleeping," Elise said.

Trant bent down to hug his son. "Sorry I'm home late, I was hoping to arrive back before you went to bed."

"I've missed you so much!" Mikael said, holding on for an extended hug.

Trant laughed and said, "I've missed you too. Now let's get you back to bed."

"Aww," Mikael complained. "Can I not stay up a little while longer? You've been gone for ages!"

"I'll tell you what, I'll put you back to bed, but you can open the gift I brought you."

"But then you go straight back to sleep," Elise added.

"Yes. How does that sound?" Trant asked.

Mikael nodded his head enthusiastically.

Trant opened his suitcase and brought out a wooden box which made Mikael grin and bite his fingers in excitement. He took Mikael's hand and led him upstairs to his room.

Mikael dutifully pulled back the covers and jumped back in bed, next to his cuddly würm toy. Trant sat on the bed and handed the box to him. Mikael grinned and fumbled to open it as fast as he could. He pulled out some wooden shapes, and an instruction booklet. Mikael gasped.

"Do you know what it is?"

"It's an aerostatic!" Mikael said in awe.

"That's right," Trant said, smiling. He stifled a sneeze. "This one, you have to put together yourself."

"Can we do it together?"

"Of course! But tomorrow," Trant said, ruffling his son's hair.

Mikael nodded and wriggled down in bed until he was lying down. "Did you see any real airships? Up close?"

Trant smiled. "Oh yes, many of them actually. The big boss of the company I was working for took the whole project team out for the afternoon to visit the Air Museum. That is where I got this," he said, tapping the box.

"Cool," Mikael said.

Despite his efforts to get Mikael to go to sleep, he managed to convince his dad to tell him more about the aircrafts he saw. Trant talked at length until he fell asleep mid-sentence. Mikael got out of bed, covered his dad with a blanket and then turned out the light before getting back into bed. He was tempted to make a start on the model aerostatic but he decided he wanted to wait until he and his dad could build it together. He snuggled down next to his cuddly würm and imagined he was a pilot.

Jean had spent hours getting ready, picking out the perfect outfit, trimming his beard, styling his hair into perfect waves, choosing a cologne. He had opened a bottle of wine (Jean knew little about wine so had chosen the most expensive one in the shop) and put into a bucket of ice, another thing he had never owned before, but he felt he should have to pretend to be fancy. Maybe he wasn't pretending any more. The balance on the bank account that was now his sure suggested he was one of the fancy people, and none of the neighbours he had seen in passing looked poor.

He flipped through a book while he was waiting, trying to find where he had got up to before he dropped it and the bookmark fell out.

Jean found it hard to get into the book. He was sure Trant would arrive any minute now and then he would put it down and forget about it. Anticipation turned to impatience after an hour went by. Trant had said he would visit today, but didn't give a time. Jean assumed he would be coming round in the early evening, after work. He cursed himself for not asking. Now he'd have to sit here, on edge until he arrived.

Another half hour went by and Jean poured himself a glass of wine. May as well get started. He didn't like the wine, or rather maybe he disliked it because of the fucking waiting. Still, he poured himself a second glass as soon as he finished the first.

By the time he had finished the second glass, it was getting late. Where was Trant? Wasn't he coming? Jean was way beyond impatience, now he was frustrated and angry. Trant hadn't left him a telephone number for his house, so Jean had no way of contacting him.

He pulled off his tie and unfastened a few more buttons of his shirt, then picked up the bottle of wine from the now mostly melted ice bucket, and drank the rest while pacing around the room.

Trant wasn't coming. Jean was sure of it now. Had he met someone better on his trip and replaced him? His mind filled with nothing but this other guy and he had completely forgot about Jean. Maybe he was even already plotting to throw Jean out of this place and move in his new guy? Had he done this before? Jean couldn't be sure that Trant hadn't owned this apartment for years. Maybe he was just the most recent in a long line of guys Trant had moved into this place and then quickly got sick of. The whole time Jean had been concerned about Trant getting bored of him, he just didn't think it'd happen so fucking soon.

Jean tried to take another drink from the wine bottle, but it was empty. He threw it against the wall. It smashed and rained down shards of glass. He turned and saw the plant that Trant had bought for him, and pushed it off the ledge onto the floor. Its pot cracked and spilled soil onto the carpet. Jean looked down at the plant on the floor and felt an odd stab of guilt. He wasn't sure why, plants didn't have feelings. Unlike him. Who did have feelings. Feelings that were really fucking hurt right now.

He couldn't deal with this, so he turned away and stalked off into the kitchen. He grabbed the first bottle of booze he could find, which turned out to be another bottle of wine. He opened it and started drinking it from the bottle.

He couldn't believe he'd let himself be duped so easily. He should be goddamned smarter than that. Why had none of his so-called friends from back home warned him about this? Bastards. Did they want to see him fail at life?

But Jean had wanted to believe. He wanted to believe in a better life, he wanted to believe in Trant. The man had seemed nice. He didn't seem like he would be too demanding or unreasonable. Jean wanted to believe the lie that he could live the high life and pretend to be Trant's boyfriend.

He sat down on the couch and took a long drink from the wine bottle, the sticky liquid dribbling out of the corners of his mouth and down into his beard. Pulling the bottle away, he dropped his head. It wasn't surprising really, that Trant had got cold feet almost immediately. Jean wasn't the best company, as some of his more cruel clients had liked to remind him. Well, there was no hope of convincing Trant that he had any worth, so there was nothing else for it but to get extremely drunk.

Jean drank until the pain in his chest went numb and he no longer cared what happened to him. Eventually his current bottle dropped from his hand, and he rolled onto the floor and passed out.

Trant deliberately got up early. Usually he liked to have breakfast with Mikael, but with Gregor around he wanted to avoid any awkward situations. He wasn't feeling too hungry anyway, he was still rather under the weather.

His morning was filled with back-to-back meetings, and he felt progressively worse as the day wore on. He tried to put on a brave face, but when they broke for lunch, his boss approached him and told him to go home and get some rest.

No-one else was home when Trant got back, so he took some painkillers for his aching head and went straight to bed.

Trant woke up to his alarm going off, and he switched it off, feeling a little confused. He didn't remember going to bed last night. And then he realised he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday. He shook his head.

When he got out of bed he still wasn't feeling too good, but he gathered some clean clothes and headed for the bathroom. He could hear the shower running so he returned to his room to wait. Sitting down on his bed again, his head was spinning. He didn't like to let people down so he always tried to push through it and get on with things when he was unwell, and that made it difficult to know whether he should take time off work. But doing so made him feel guilty, so he resolved to at least try to make it to the office.

The shower cleared his head somewhat, and he headed downstairs.

Gregor was sitting at the kitchen table with Mikael. The man was sitting in his usual seat, and Trant couldn't believe it but Gregor was wearing his bathrobe.

"Good morning," Trant said.

"Good morning," Gregor echoed.

"Hi dad! I tried to wake you last night but you were so fast asleep!" Mikael said.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have been very tired."

"That's okay. Can we start building the model tonight?"

"Of course we can," Trant said, feeling guilty about not spending time with him last night.

Gregor must have noticed Trant looking at him because he said, "I hope you don't mind me borrowing your robe. It was hanging up in the bathroom, and I forgot to bring mine. I don't like to get dressed until right before I leave the house."

"Oh no, that's fine," Trant said, troubled by the implication that Gregor was wearing nothing or very little under his robe.

"Come and join us for breakfast, dad."

"No, I think I'll just have a quick coffee."

"Elise went out to get more eggs, there was only enough for one each," Gregor said.

Trant was troubled by the fact that Elise had left Mikael alone with Gregor, but he suspected he might be being a bit overprotective, so he let it slide for now.

"I have to get to work early today," he said, heading into the kitchen before anyone could say any more.

Seeing his son eating breakfast with his mother's boyfriend, who seemed to have taken over his place was disconcerting. Was this the way things were when he wasn't around? He had been trying not to think too much about it.

He made himself a coffee and burned his mouth as drank it standing up in the kitchen.

While stopped at an intersection on the way to work, a man with long hair crossed in front of his motor carriage. It wasn't Jean, but the thought of him made Trant's heart speed up. He realised he had promised to go to visit Jean last night, and not only had he slept through it, it had slipped his mind until now. No matter, he told himself. He could go and visit Jean tonight. Jean would understand, surely? Only, he had also promised Mikael he would help him assemble his model aerostatic. He could visit Jean afterwards. After a full day of work still feeling lousy. Trant sighed. He felt tired already.

After a long day at work, followed by an awkward family dinner featuring Gregor, and two hours of sitting on the floor with Mikael resulting in the construction of roughly one third of the aerostatic's hull, Trant managed to make it to the front door to attempt to leave. Elise came to ask where he was going, he should have anticipated this. If he had, he would have prepared some cover story, instead of telling her that he wanted a bit of time alone to think. She immediately started demanding he tell her what he meant by that. Despite their arrangement, there was the constant mutual worry that one of them would ask for a divorce and the whole family's lives would come crashing down. Trant spent an extended amount of time trying to placate her, and took the opportunity to slip out of the house when she momentarily calmed down.

Getting into his MC, Trant sighed. He was very tired and still didn't feel too good, but he owed Jean a visit. He had been looking forward to seeing Jean again, so felt bad about losing yesterday evening due to sickness. Hopefully Jean's company would be just the calming and comforting influence he needed.

Jean looked a bit dishevelled when he opened the door, which made Trant feel less self conscious about his red nose and puffy face.

"Oh, it's you," is how Jean greeted him. Jean didn't smile, and that made Trant smile. It was refreshing compared to all the fake smiles he received on his business trip and at work.

"Good evening, Jean," Trant said. "How are you doing?"

Jean turned around and let Trant follow him inside, but ignored the question. "Finally, you grace me with your presence," he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

"Look, I'm sorry about yesterday-"

Jean turned around. "You're sorry? You're fucking sorry? You're gone for weeks and you don't even wanna come see me when you come back? Well that's just fucking great! What the hell?"

Jean's outburst shocked Trant. He stood there and waited until Jean was done yelling. "I did want to see you," Trant said, his voice thin. He was so accomplished at dealing with angry clients at work, but when things got personal he fell to pieces.

"Yeah, right," Jean said, crossing his arms. Now he was still, or as close to still as he was able, Trant noticed him swaying.

"You're drunk."

Jean let out a laugh, and the look on his face told Trant that he'd said the wrong thing. "Yeah. I'd be high too if I could figure out where to buy drugs in this goddamned city."

Trant put a hand to his head. It was aching again. "Can we sit down? I'm not feeling too good."

Jean narrowed his eyes at him. "Yeah, you look like shit," he said, then flipped his hair over his shoulder and stalked over to the couch.

Trant went and sat beside him, leaving a respectful distance between them. As he gathered his thoughts, he looked around the room. It was untidy and dirty. He made a mental note to arrange for a cleaner to come round. And was that broken glass over there?

"Yeah, I didn't know you were coming so I didn't tidy up," Jean said, noticing him looking.

"It's fine," Trant said, and took out a handkerchief to wipe his nose. "I think I picked up a bug on my trip. My boss sent me home early from work yesterday and I ended up sleeping through till morning. Must have been asleep for fifteen hours solid."

"Oh," Jean said, and his expression softened, but he still had his arms folded and his legs were still crossed pointing away from Trant.

"So that's why I didn't come over last night. It isn't because I didn't want to."

Jean nodded.

"I'm sorry."

"Okay," Jean said, with no indication of whether he was accepting the apology or not. He leaned forward and picked up an open beer bottle from the coffee table and took a swig from it. "You want a beer?"

"Oh, no thank you, not right now," Trant said. He wondered if he needed to apologise more profusely or explain in more detail, he didn't know Jean well enough to tell if that would help or annoy him further. He noticed a crack in the pot of the plant he had given Jean, and a few of its stems were bent and broken. "What happened? Did the plant fall over?"

Jean sighed. "As I said, I didn't know you were coming," he muttered, and shook his head. "There was an accident."

"These things can be easily replaced," Trant said, and Jean gave him a look, so he added, "Or repaired, if you prefer."

"I can do it myself," Jean said.

"Of course," Trant said. He placed a hand on Jean's arm. "How have you been settling in?"

Jean eyed Trant's hand with suspicion, but didn't push it off or move away. "Yeah, great," he said flippantly.

"You don't sound so sure."

A conflicted look crossed Jean's face. "No, it's fine," he said.

"It always takes some time to fully feel at home in a new place. I wasn't sure about Revachol myself when I first moved here. Give it some time."

Jean nodded and put down his empty bottle.

Trant moved his foot and felt something under his shoe. He bent to pick it up and saw that it was a pen with the branding of the local college. "Oh, did you sign up for some classes?"

Jean shook his head. "There was an open day, but I, uh... got there too late. Guess I missed my chance."

"I'm sure if you pop in someone will be able to give you some information."

"I wouldn't want to bother them," Jean said.

"It wouldn't be a bother, I'm sure they would only be too happy to talk to you. It is in their best interests to attract as many students as possible, after all."

"I hadn't thought about it like that," Jean said, patting his pockets and finally taking out a packet of cigarettes. He offered one to Trant, who shook his head, then lit one for himself. "But what if I'm not good enough?"

"You won't know if you don't try."

"Yeah. I guess. I'll think about it."

Trant touched Jean's arm again and rubbed it gently. "If it's something you really want to do, it will all work out."

Jean looked unsure, but nodded. "So how was the business trip?" he asked.

"Yes, it was good. The company I was advising makes parts for aerostatics and other aircraft, so I got to learn a lot more about how they work. It takes an enormous amount of energy for crafts to become airborne and remain so, so it is critically important that each part is designed to do its job as efficiently as possible while keeping weight to a minimum. It is really quite fascinating work. Mikael was most disappointed that he was not able to accompany me, but it is such a long trip through the pale for a boy of his age, and of course he has school as well." Trant trailed off. "Sorry, am I boring you?"

"No," Jean said, taking another drink from his beer, "go on."

"Of course, it was not quite as exciting as my last trip."

"Why not?"

"Because I met you, of course," Trant said, smiling.

Jean scoffed. "You old charmer." He leans towards Trant, but Trant moves away before he can kiss him. "What's wrong?"

"It's not that I don't want to, but I don't want to pass on my illness to you," Trant says.

Jean leaned in again and kissed him on the cheek. Trant smiled and moved closer to Jean to embrace him. Jean curled one arm around him and held his cigarette out of the way. Trant closed his eyes and let himself enjoy Jean's warmth and the feeling of his heart beating against his own chest.

Trant glanced at his watch and reluctantly withdrew from the embrace. Jean immediately took a drag on his cigarette, but looked at Trant from under his eyelashes in a way that made Trant's heart skip a beat. Despite the rough start, he was glad he had come here tonight.

"It's getting late," Trant said.

"Yeah," Jean said, raising his eyebrows. "Want me to help you relax?"

It was a tempting offer. But Trant didn't want Jean to think he owed him anything, and he was feeling quite tired. "It's been a long day. I need to go home."

"Fine," Jean said, blowing out a plume of smoke.

"But I'd like to make it up to you, for not coming over yesterday, and for not spending much time with you tonight. Would you do me the honour of accompanying me on a date at the weekend?"

Jean's mouth curled upwards, but he sucked on the last bit of his cigarette before answering. "Sure. But no fancy restaurants this time. It's not really my scene."

"That's fine. I'll let you choose where we go," Trant said, standing up.

"I don't know anywhere around here," Jean said, tossing his cigarette butt in an overflowing ashtray, then following Trant to the door.

"Then go out and explore! You can do that after you go back to the college," Trant said, patting him on the shoulder.

Jean looked unsure, but nodded.

"Oh! I almost forgot! I brought you a small gift back from my trip," Trant said, reaching into his inside jacket pocket and took out a small object wrapped in brightly coloured paper.

Jean took it and started unwrapping it. He looked at the equally brightly coloured magnet, which had the word Zsiemsk in blue and white letters, surrounded by what were presumably local fruits and vegetables.

"You said the fridge was a grey monstrosity. Now you can begin decorating it."

"Oh, thanks."

"And also, I hope it will help you to remember that even when we are apart, I am thinking of you," Trant said with a smile.

Jean opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again and looked away, his cheeks going red. This made Trant smile even wider. Jean was adorable.

"I'll call you on Friday evening, and we can make arrangements," Trant said, pulling Jean into another hug, and kissing him on the head.

"Okay," Jean said.

Trant wasn't sure if it was just the alcohol that Jean had ingested, but he looked very bewildered as they said their goodbyes. He hoped Jean would be okay and settle in well here. Their relationship hadn't had the smoothest start, but he was sure that with some effort they could be very happy together.