Wynn opened his eyes to see a blurry mass of russet waves in front of his face, then he refocused on Mihhaelo’s hair and half sat up to watch the other boy’s gentle breathing. Mihhaelo’s lips were closed this morning, and as before an occasional tremor swept through his body, but Wynn knew with an ache in his heart that the motions were not due to any lingering after-effects of Monday’s illness, rather unconscious reactions to whatever cruelty he had been subjected to.

Wynn was also aware this was to be their final day, and that his feelings for Mihhaelo had progressed far beyond simple fondness even in the short time they had spent together. He wanted to awaken like this every morning, to not only see that wonderful face but to kiss it, to run his fingers through Mihhaelo’s silken hair and hold his trembling body close, both to comfort and protect him from whatever demons were still chasing him even as he showed Mihhaelo the world could offer him so many things, and to ravish him so he knew such pleasures were meant for him, and thus to be enjoyed.

“Mmm,” turquoise eyes slowly opened as Mihhaelo drowsily moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, then he awoke fully and averted his gaze as he realised he was being watched. “Huh,” he almost smiled, but the motion was so fleeting as to be barely discernible, then in a tone that was not at all angry as it would have been a couple of days ago he complained, “Why don’t you cop a feel while you’re at it?”

“Close your eyes, then,” Wynn leaned forward, and stretched out his right arm.

“What…?” Mihhaelo instinctively pulled back, his eyes widening in surprise rather than closing as requested, but he was trapped between the headboard and the bed-side table.

“Hold still,” Wynn’s fingertips brushed against Mihhaelo’s cheek, then he kneeled up and stepped over Mihhaelo to stand on the other side of the bed. “Got it.”

“What the hell was that?” Mihhaelo demanded.

“You had a loose eyelash,” Wynn held up the offending item for the other boy to see, then grinned and blew it away.

“You bastard!” Mihhaelo threw a pillow after him as he went into the bathroom and closed the door.

Wynn calmed his breathing and stared at his reflection in the mirror, but at least he could face himself knowing he had acted properly rather than giving in to his understandable yearning, for even that small contact had made him aware of how much he desired Mihhaelo. Wynn shook his head to dismiss an image of himself bending over and kissing Mihhaelo as a prelude to touching and arousing his body, for having made a promise he would never break it. What if…? No, he could do nothing until he was sure Mihhaelo at least wanted something to happen, but the other boy was still so weak that any signals he gave out might not be genuine, and could easily be misunderstood by anyone who did not know him. Even if Wynn had not felt as he did about Mihhaelo, the last thing he wanted on his conscience was the knowledge he had taken advantage of someone who had suffered genuine abuse, regardless of his obvious sexuality.

“Are you going to be in there all morning?” Mihhaelo’s protest broke Wynn’s reverie.

“All yours,” Wynn left plenty of space between them as Mihhaelo, already dressed in his own clothes, passed him on the way out and shut the door.

A couple of minutes later, Mihhaelo emerged just as Wynn turned to the wardrobe and began taking out his clothes, folding them so they would fit as neatly as possible with all his purchases in the compact wheeled suitcase that lay open on the bed.

“…” Mihhaelo’s lips parted in a silent ‘O’ of surprise as he stood in the doorway, and for a brief moment something that might have been panic swept across his face before he stepped forward.

“I’m sorry,” Wynn looked down as he continued packing, “but you knew this was my last day.” He tried with little success to concentrate solely on what he was doing rather than worry about what would happen to the other boy, which only filled his mind with a parade of unwanted images, “I suppose we should be really thankful we never got caught.”

“I know,” Mihhaelo tried to smile, which only made him appear even more vulnerable. “It’s just…” his voice faded as Wynn entered the bathroom and returned with his toiletries.

“I normally have breakfast across the road, then wander around the cemetery for a while before catching the Metro up to Gare Du Nord, so there’s about an hour yet, but then I’m afraid I really have to leave.”

“Cem…?” Mihhaelo interrupted his own query as he realised, “the one over the road.”

“I never did get around to showing it to you, so now’s your last chance,” Wynn hoped he had not sounded too eager that his offer would be accepted, even though drawing out their farewell was not something he really wanted to do as he preferred clean breaks with no regrets, and this particular situation was complicated enough without simmering dreams clouding the issue.

“I think I’d like that,” Mihhaelo said, and his eyes widened unconsciously in response to the metallic sounds of the clasps as they snapped shut.

Wynn extended the telescopic handles and tested the case for balance, then wheeled it across to the door. “Well,” he said with a tone of finality as he lifted his other bag and hung it from his shoulder, “I’m afraid that’s it.”

Mihhaelo picked up his worn carpet-bag and turned for one last look at the room, then passed Wynn into the corridor and stood at the top of the stairs as Wynn pressed the button to call up the lift. “I’d better not go down with you,” he said, “just in case.”

Wynn nodded, “I need to settle up for breakfasts and incidentals, so that should keep them occupied.” He opened the outer door to the lift and stepped inside, but as he pulled it closed, he peered around the edge, “I’ll only be a couple of minutes, so no running off.”

Wynn closed the door and pressed the ground floor button, then as the inner doors slid shut he saw his distorted reflection in their dull brass-like finish, and not for the first time in the last couple of days wished there was something he could do to permanently ease Mihhaelo’s situation, but what?

Once on the ground floor, he approached the reception desk and handed in his key, then took the list of extra charges presented to him and ran his eye down the items, signing at the bottom and easily paying the bill with his remaining cash rather than use his credit card. Although not betraying any sign of recognition when Mihhaelo eventually left the stairs, he was still aware of the other boy passing quietly behind him without interruption from the receptionist, and he smiled at the woman as he bid her farewell until next year, though there was little chance of her still being there, as during each of his visits he had encountered different staff.

Leaving the hotel, Wynn was thankful that neither of them had been discovered at the last moment, then he smiled as he approached the corner, for Mihhaelo was standing near the narrow crossing to the long central island of Boulevard Edgar Quinet, trying not to look too dejected. Wynn checked for oncoming vehicles, and when they had reached the other side they sat at one of the many vacant tables of the restaurant, looking northwards along Boulevard Raspail and ordering a small breakfast each from a petite waitress who seemed barely in her teens.

“Is there anywhere you can go later?” Wynn asked after a minute of a silence that was almost uneasy.

“There’s always somewhere else,” Mihhaelo did not look at him, but rather across the road, as if watching the small amount of traffic.

“I wish that…” Wynn stopped as the waitress returned with her laden tray, then he opened his wallet and took out sufficient money to cover their bill, folding the remaining notes into a small bundle. “I know there’s not as much left as I’d like,” he said as he offered it to Mihhaelo, “and you can have my remaining Metro tickets as well, though I’ll need one to get to the station. I want you to have it, so I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“You’re right,” Mihhaelo’s admission was torn between his pride asserting itself and the knowledge he needed to accept the money. “This will keep me going until Monday or Tuesday; thanks. You’ll be back at work by then, won’t you?”

“Yes, though I have tomorrow off as well. I usually just stay in listening to music or browsing the web, getting everything washed and catching up on the news and gossip.” Wynn bit into one of his croissant and idly licked the crumbs from his mouth, “I’m sure Yukiko will want me all to herself for a while, too. She can be a bit of a handful at times, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Mihhaelo’s shoulders rose in the beginnings of a shrug, then fell again, “I don’t really understand girls.”

“They’re just other people,” Wynn almost laughed. “I suppose if you had lots of older brothers, you mightn’t have had the chance to interact with many?”

“So what kind of music do you like?”

Wynn did not comment on the abrupt and plainly deliberate change of subject, “Mostly indie, some trance, ambient, and various kinds of metal. I’m really into symphonic at the moment.”

“I can’t stand classical,” Mihhaelo said, “there’s no beat.”

“It’s just a different kind, and it’s far richer, but I meant symphonic metal.” Wynn smiled at the other boy’s surprise, and explained, “It’s very textured with all the power stuff you’d expect, but there’s usually a string section and chorus, and sometimes women as the main singers. There’s a group called Nightwish that are absolutely amazing, and Opeth, who do long complex tracks, though they’re melodic rather than symphonic, but the boundaries between all the sub-genres are blurred at the best of times. How about you?”

“Darkwave and New Romantic, anything with lots of synths.”

“You mean like Gary Numan? His last few were so different, really dark and dramatic.”

Mihhaelo nodded, “He’s the best.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t listen to music, it’s such a big part of my life; I’ve even tried messing around with it a bit for myself, but I never get beyond the first couple of minutes. The only reason I don’t have an mp3 player is that I’d have to have it up so loud to drown out the background noise that I’d go deaf in a couple of months, and in any case the whole point of a holiday is to soak up the local atmosphere, not block it out and wander around in a little world of your own making.”

“Sometimes I think you can be a bit too sensible,” Mihhaelo smiled fleetingly over the rim of his cup, which he emptied in a single long gulp.

Wynn smiled back and tried not to grin as he saw the other boy shy away from the overt attention, and with a feeling of loss already pervading his mood Wynn stood up and turned, offering his hand and at the last moment changing his action to one of beckoning as he faced the tall black monolith of Tour Montparnasse at the far end of the tree-lined Boulevard.

A couple of minutes later they passed through the cemetery’s main gate, then Wynn purchased two single roses from the flower-stall just inside the entrance, and despite having his luggage to contend with still he wanted to reach out and wrap one arm around Mihhaelo’s shoulders, both as a sign of what was now more than just affection, and to comfort him, but though there were only a few gardeners nearby tending to the plants and it was doubtful anyone would have commented on such a move even in a main street, he knew Mihhaelo would flinch from the touch, so he simply held up the roses and said, “I think everyone has their favourites when they visit, though it’s a nice place to just wander around, too.”

Mihhaelo’s voice almost faltered, “You said before there were lots of famous people buried here?”

“Yes, there are plenty of artists, and their graves often have wonderful sculptures. Have you heard of Baudelaire?”

The other boy silently shook his head.

“His tomb is over there,” Wynn waved his arm vaguely to their right, “but over here,” his arm swung across to the left, “is the cenotaph. Then there’s the genii statue in the middle, and we can visit Jean and Delphine; that’s why I got the roses.”

“Who were they?” Mihhaelo asked as they walked along the inner road.

“Jean Seberg was in an influential new-wave film called ‘À Bout De Souffle’, but she’s probably better known for being the wife shared by Clint Eastwood and Lee Marvin in ‘Paint Your Wagon’. As for Delphine Seyrig, she was in lots of things, including Buñuel’s ‘The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie’, and a cheesy vampire film called ‘Daughters Of Darkness’ in which she played Countess Bathory. I think only the locals remember her now, but Jean’s tomb usually has lots of flowers and cards because she was a bit of a cause célèbre, what with being hounded by the American government and then killing herself.”

“I’ve not heard of them,” Mihhaelo said, then he deliberated for a few moments, presumably wondering if his question would expose even more of his ignorance. “Is Jim Morrison here?”

“Wasn’t he beautiful? Adonis and Dionysus in one perfect package. He’s over in Père Lachaise, along with Oscar Wilde, Moliere, Apollinaire, Proust, Heloïse and Abelard, and dozens of others. It’s an amazing place, but you really need two or three visits to do it justice. That’s what I like about this one, it’s fairly small, and central; there’s another cemetery up at Montmartre as well.”

“So, not too morbid, then,” Mihhaelo was not being serious.

“I don’t think they’re like that at all, in fact they celebrate life, and it’s the only way that people know someone ever existed. Here’s Baudelaire’s memorial,” Wynn pointed at the narrow cenotaph, and they walked forward to see the poet’s figure leaning over the top of a slim lectern whose support was wrapped around by the body of a gigantic, almost skeletal bat.

They partially retraced their steps and went along some of the narrower paths that marked out the various rows of tombs, soon finding themselves at the nominal centre where the Genii Of Eternal Slumber seemed caught in the motion of landing from flight, then they crossed to the other side and faced the entrance, eventually arriving at the tomb of Jean Seberg.

“Well, here she is,” Wynn laid his first rose alongside various other flowers and small bouquets that had been left by previous admirers, though someone had left a miniature portrait in a silver frame that was now slightly tarnished due to weathering.

“Oh,” Mihhaelo was obviously disappointed at how unassuming it was.

“If you want something more ornate, there are plenty of gothic chapels,” said Wynn as they approached a wider avenue, “and they’re usually in very good condition.” He pointed out a couple of men who were tending to the flower-beds, “At least over here they try and look after things.”

A couple of minutes later they had reached the far end of the cemetery, where against the wall was an even plainer stone with the elder actress’s name below a simple spiral motif, which as expected showed little signs of anyone else’s visits.

“It’s so lonely,” Wynn’s voice was quiet as he laid his second rose on the tomb, then they walked back to the main path, arriving at a pale cream Art Nouveau chapel. “It looks really nice at this time of the day, with the sunlight shining into it. Just look at the coloured glass, doesn’t it glow?”

Even though he did not share it, Mihhaelo almost smiled at the open display of enthusiasm, but when they turned the corner of the cemetery, Wynn looked at his watch and sighed.

“I really have to go now,” he said with a regret he could not prevent from affecting his mood.

Mihhaelo’s face visibly paled for a couple of seconds, and he swallowed in a nervous motion before replying, “I know, and you… you didn’t have to do any of what you did, but you did it anyway, and I… I’ll never forget it!” his voice fractured on the final vowels, then he stepped forward quickly to kiss Wynn on the cheek, and though the contact was so fleeting as to barely deserve the name, the fact it had even occurred was remarkable, but before Wynn could say or do anything in response Mihhaelo was running away through the tombstones.

Given the numerous times Mihhaelo had flinched from the most innocent of touches, of the kind that any two people who were friends or close colleagues rather than lovers might exchange throughout the course of a day whilst travelling together and enjoying both their surroundings and one another’s company, it was quite evident such things were associated only with further pain, but now, having acted purely on instinct to bid Wynn a final good-bye, Mihhaelo had not only overcome his fears and perhaps not even fully realised he had done so, but also shown his genuine emotions.

“Wait, Michjo!” Wynn shouted after him, heedless of any attention he might draw from the few people near enough to have heard his call, but his appeal went unanswered, and with precious seconds ticking by as quickly as the distance in metres between them increased, he hastily propped his luggage against the nearest mausoleum and sprinted after Mihhaelo, who had his own bag to keep him off-balance and thus slow him down.

Wynn easily caught up, and without thinking reached out to grasp Mihhaelo’s shoulder, but he turned as if knowing exactly when he was to be touched so that Wynn almost lost his balance, and even as Mihhaelo turned away again Wynn saw pinpoints of light glistening on his flushed cheeks.

“Damn it,” Wynn’s breathing was slightly laboured, though due to the emotions knotting his stomach rather than the minor exertion from such a short run, and he overtook Mihhaelo to place one arm against the next sepulchre and force him to stop before he reached the next path, then Wynn rested his other hand on the flaking stone to trap the boy between his arms.

Mihhaelo kept his head turned to one side, trying to hide his tears behind the glossy auburn curtain that framed his face, but though he could have easily pushed Wynn back or simply ducked under either arm and tried to continue his flight, he stayed with his back against the tomb.

Wynn leaned his head forward so that his cheek touched the other boy’s hair, breathing in the clean scent whilst Mihhaelo stood trembling before him, and he spoke so quietly the words almost faded before they reached Mihhaelo’s ear, “I’m like a kid on the last day of school, knowing I’ll never see my best friend again despite all the promises we’ve made, but it’s so much more than that now, it’s…”

“It’s what?” Mihhaelo’s voice was barely audible too.

With one hand pushing firmly into the rough stone as an anchor, Wynn lifted his other hand and touched Mihhaelo’s cheek as gently as he could, then cupped his chin to raise it, but rather than follow through and kiss the other boy properly, Wynn simply leaned his forehead against Mihhaelo’s, “I don’t want you to go, not like this… not at all. I wasn’t looking for anything to happen, but I’m falling in love with you so quickly it’s leaving me dizzy.”

“You can’t,” Mihhaelo’s objection was hoarse.

Wynn almost laughed at the response, “Why ever not?”

“Stop it,” the other boy said, but his words had no real strength behind them.

“You’re only the second person I’ve ever felt this way about.”

“So, you told me,” Mihhaelo thrust his bag forward to make a space between them, and when he next spoke his words were full of antagonism. “Am I supposed to be grateful?”

“Don’t be such an idiot,” Wynn stepped back so there was a physical distance between them that he hoped would complement the emotional space he was trying to create, and whilst Mihhaelo could easily have left if he truly wanted to, he remained against the sepulchre.

“What, then? You’ll be my knight in white satin and carry me away to your castle in the air?”

“Why do you always have to shut me out?” Wynn’s exasperation was clear, though he was not annoyed in any way.

“Because I’m not your precious doll, and I can’t live like that!”

“Then live with me,” Wynn managed not to shout the invitation which had been circling in the back of his mind ever since awakening that morning, and upon realising what he had said and that he really meant it, he held out his hand and appealed, “Come and live with me.”

Mihhaelo gasped in complete shock, and all of his belligerence fell away to reveal itself as the protective mask it had been all along, then the bag slipped from his fingers and his shoulders curled forward as he bowed his head, giving up all pretence at keeping in the rest of his tears.

“It’s all right, shush,” Wynn took one of Mihhaelo’s hands into his own. “You know I’m sharing so I really only have one room that’s all my own, but it’s bigger than most, and it can be yours as well.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Mihhaelo was verbalising his thoughts rather than speaking to Wynn. “These last couple of days have been… they’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened to me since I… but I can’t let that… I don’t know if I can…” He gulped in a large breath of air, and said in a voice that broke with distress at the confession, “I don’t know what I feel, about you, about me, about anything!” the final protest was addressed directly at Wynn, but was not a desire to be told how to behave as if he had no will of his own, only a further means of expressing his utter confusion and self-doubt.

“All I can do is promise to give you all the time you need,” Wynn lifted Mihhaelo’s hand and pressed it against his cheek. “If you let me love you as I know you deserve to be, and you don’t feel safe, or you think I’m suffocating you, or you simply don’t like the furniture, then at least you’ll know that someone out here cares about you, and I’ll never forget you.”

“‘We’ll always have Paris’?” Mihhaelo almost choked again, but this time it was on a barely suppressed laugh that was nervous rather than bitter. “But how can you love me?” he complained weakly, “we haven’t even…”

“Believe me, I want to go to bed with you even more than ever, and I really don’t mean just sleeping the way we did, but it’s more than that; a lot more. I just can’t leave you.”

“Want, need, love… I don’t know the difference,” Mihhaelo’s admission was forced.

“I know.” Wynn wanted to add that he was only too aware the other boy was terrified of being used and discarded, and would never admit to wanting someone to look after him or just have as company, so he leaned forward and said, “I want to make you happy and show you so many things, but not from some castle in the air or the top of a pedestal. I want to see your eyes light up and hear you laugh, never mind crying out in ecstasy, and if that sounds selfish with all those ‘I wants’ then yes, I’m being selfish, but I love you, Michjo. I love you.”

Wynn wrapped his arms around Mihhaelo’s shoulders, and though he met with no resistance he knew this time it was a conscious decision on Mihhaelo’s part rather than mute acceptance of something deemed to be inevitable. He kissed Mihhaelo’s throat, licking the soft hollows above his collarbone before moving to one side of his neck and drawing on the smooth flesh, then he pressed his open mouth against Mihhaelo’s parting lips to kiss him as he had always wanted to, and his reward was a moan of surrender that crossed the bridge of their tongues to be swallowed by Wynn like an offering as the boy responded with a passion that was almost overpowering.

Mihhaelo stepped back half a pace and opened his eyes wide in surprise, sucking air through his teeth in realisation of how intense was his own reaction.

“Where did that come from?” Wynn smiled.

“I don’t know,” Mihhaelo looked away, suddenly embarrassed. “It just sort of… happened.”

“Now I’m wondering if I’d made a move on you this morning, would you have stopped me?”

“I thought you were going to, but when… why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want to do anything unless I was absolutely sure it was what you really wanted; I just didn’t want to hurt you, or leave you assuming that’s all I was after. Taking the lead or being determined is one thing, but I know too much about the dynamics of power to use it for its own sake; I’d never do that.”

“Sometimes you just have to take what you want,” Mihhaelo replied, though his tone was not uncaring. “I’m not saying you’re nice because you can afford to be, but it helps.”

Wynn pulled the other boy forward to kiss him again, and his hand slid from the back of Mihhaelo’s neck down his spine and around his waist, but even though Mihhaelo’s response threatened to overwhelm him there was little else he dared do in such public surroundings, so with a slight groan of frustration Wynn gently pushed himself away and said, “I meant it, you know. I do love you, and if what you did just then was any indication of your feelings for me, then you have a home if you’ll risk it; I know I’m willing to. All you have to do is tell me.”

“Yes,” the response was simple without being submissive, then Mihhaelo’s eyes widened in horror at the prospect of his newly-created dream being destroyed before it had even begun. “What if there’s no room on the train?”

Wynn smiled and shook his head at the imagined obstacle, “That’s why I’m going back today rather than tomorrow, and leaving early. It’s long before all the day-trippers go home, and we’ll arrive way ahead of the mad rush on the tube. There will be a few spare tickets, and all that matters is getting on the train to start with, because once we’re on and everyone’s settled we can change seats, though I doubt there will be any pairs left. Come on, we have to go and get my things before someone finds them. You know,” he added as they reached the path, “you felt like you were on fire when we were kissing,” and smiled as Mihhaelo bowed his head despite his obvious lack of qualms about embracing another boy in public, even if it was in a sparsely-attended cemetery. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Wynn said once they had retrieved his luggage and were walking back along the Boulevard.

“Don’t worry,” Mihhaelo reassured him, “I’m not under-age.”

“That’s nice to know, although I was thinking of something else. When I found you on Monday evening, I realised at the time you couldn’t have left when I had my bath because you were locked in, but why on earth did you run out on me without saying a word? All you ever told me was your name, and you said that so quietly that I didn’t really know what it was.”

“I hadn’t slept or eaten properly for three days,” Mihhaelo replied with a combination of embarrassment and defensiveness, “and I was too tired to do anything other than react. I shouldn’t even have told you that, but even my reactions were…” he sighed. “I just couldn’t protect myself, and by the time I’d managed to think straight, I thought it was too late and that you’d report me.”

“Oh, I would only have done that if I thought you were a thief, but to find you sleeping in my bed…” Wynn smiled, “that was a surprise.”

“I’d only just found that hotel and seen I could walk in without any problems, and I didn’t want to risk anyone reporting me and alerting other hotels, or the police. I’ve not been caught yet, but at the first sign of trouble I get out as fast as I can.”

“That makes sense, I suppose,” Wynn nodded, “but I still don’t know how you’ve managed to survive for as long as you have. I wasn’t joking earlier when I said I admired your strength.”

“I don’t think I could have lasted much longer,” Mihhaelo’s confession was not easy. “Another week, maybe two. Even though I probably wouldn’t have stopped you in the end, it means so much that you didn’t take advantage of me.”

“I kept telling you I wouldn’t, but you didn’t seem to want to believe me.”

“I’m not used to it, not after…” he lowered his head for a moment. “Someone once said ‘trust is for those who have nothing left to lose,’ and I knew I was slowly slipping away; that’s way I kept fighting. Not you… everything. It’s all I’ve ever really known since I left.”

Wynn put his arm around Mihhaelo’s shoulders as they reached the entrance to Raspail Metro station, “No one likes being hurt, there’s no shame in admitting that. Unless you actually want to be hung upside-down and tickled to death with a feather, of course,” he added with a small laugh.

“That’s what I like about you,” Mihhaelo said. “You can be really serious and supportive, but you always know how to diffuse things, and you just seem so… so happy all the time. Even at the beginning, I felt safe, though I didn’t really know it until later.”

“‘Safe’, huh?” Wynn turned and playfully manoeuvred him against the tiled wall at the bottom of the steps, and though hindered by his luggage Wynn let go of one bag to briefly caress Mihhaelo’s cheek before planting a kiss on his mouth.

“Don’t,” Mihhaelo said, but he was not really protesting against the contact. “When we get back, I promise.”

“No,” Wynn replied firmly, “or it will sound like you’re making an appointment. It’ll happen when we both want it, and I’m more than happy with that. Are you?”

Mihhaelo nodded silently, and they passed through the barriers to walk down to the platforms.

Wynn and Mihhaelo travelled directly to Gare Du Nord, where they joined a short queue of people purchasing last-minute tickets, and Mihhaelo’s demeanour visibly changed as he held the piece of thin card in his hand, as if it promised the chance of a new future rather than being a mere permission to travel, then each country’s passport control elicited hardly a glance at either of them from both the French and British officers, and Wynn contained a silent sigh of relief as the final hurdle was crossed, for whilst he had been given no reason to think Mihhaelo was in any trouble, they were now free to travel back to London.

The boys waited slightly over ten minutes in the upper lounge amongst small groups of tourists and solitary business people playing games on their corporate laptops, then the PA system announced their train was ready for boarding and they went down the long moving ramp to the platform, at first locating Wynn’s seat near the middle of the train, then walking towards the front where Mihhaelo was situated.

“Once we’re off,” said Wynn, “I’ll come back for you, and we should be able to find space for both of us somewhere, but the journey isn’t really that long. Are you nervous?”

Mihhaelo nodded slightly. “Going back so soon after I left, I don’t know if…” he forced a sigh.

Wynn realised he still had no idea when Mihhaelo arrived in Paris, or even where he had been previously, but this admission indicated Mihhaelo had only recently moved abroad as he passed from one place to another. “You’ll be fine,” he smiled. “We’ll go straight home, and you can take as long as you need to adjust, so don’t think you’re under any pressure.”

As he had assumed earlier, once the train began to move and people changed their allocated positions to suit themselves, there were still quite a few left apart from those reserved for travellers boarding at later stations, and though he did not expect to be so lucky as to have an empty seat available next to his own, a cursory examination showed there to be a couple available on either side of the aisle near the front of his carriage, so he placed his small suitcase in one and his bag of shopping in the other, then left to walk forward and collect Mihhaelo.

Daylight suddenly burst through the windows as the train emerged in England, and those passengers who had not adjusted their watches went through the necessary motions, but Wynn had changed his upon hearing the driver’s announcement twenty minutes earlier of their immanent arrival at the tunnel, and he turned to smile across the aisle at Mihhaelo in a gesture that said, “Not long now.”

An hour later, Waterloo station finally came into view after the train had spent the last fifteen minutes travelling ever slower through the sprawling estates of south London, and people began making the awkward motions of those who had sat in one position for too long, gathering their things in preparation for departure as the train drew to a halt.

Wynn made sure he and Mihhaelo were in the first dozen to leave their carriage, so they would not be held up by the slower passengers struggling with their luggage, and they quickly arrived at the side of the station where people either went down to the underground or outside to join the lengthening queue for taxis.

“I just need to let everyone know we’re coming,” said Wynn as he stood near the long glass wall. “It might take a day or so for things to settle in to a new routine, but they’ll make you very welcome, you’ll see.”

Mihhaelo simply nodded his head in acknowledgement, holding his small carpet-bag to his chest and not paying much attention to the people who rushed past, almost oblivious to everything except what was a metre or so in front of them.

Wynn took out his mobile phone and pressed the speed-dial combination for home, then smiled with delight, “How’s my little princess? Yes, I really want to see you as well, I’ll be there very soon. Could you be a good girl and get Miyu for me? That was Yukiko,” he explained to Mihhaelo, “she’s just happy I’ll soon be back. Oh, hello Miyu, yes, I’m fine, it was absolutely wonderful and I took hundreds of photos, but… well, there isn’t really a simple way to lead into this, but I’ve met someone, and he’s going to be staying with me. We can work out the details later, but I wanted to let you know before we arrived, so it wasn’t a complete surprise. Well, it is, of course, but in a nice way. We should be there in about forty-five minutes; yes, see you soon, bye.”

“I’d almost forgotten what it’s like here,” Mihhaelo commented as they approached the escalators leading underground. “The noise, the crowds: that’s why I never stayed.”

“We’re in a quiet road,” Wynn reassured him, “though it’s still quite central.”

Having left Kensington High Street station and taken a bus due west, they left the far end of the High Street and went along the tree-lined avenue of Russell Road, then Wynn led Mihhaelo up the steps of their terraced house and opened the front door, holding it for the other boy to enter before letting it fall shut on a dampened cylinder.

“We’re at the top and the back,” said Wynn, “so we don’t get any noise from the traffic; not that there’s much anyway, and there aren’t many trains either.”

“It looks nice,” Mihhaelo replied as he looked around the sparse but clean hallway, and though the tone of his voice conveyed his honest opinion, it also betrayed his uncertainty about meeting the other people who lived there.

“Yukiko can get a bit excitable,” said Wynn as they ascended the stairs, “but Miyu will give you plenty of space, and half the time you won’t even know Amar is there.”

Reaching the top floor, Wynn slid his key into the lock, but he had barely stepped inside when a blur of white ran into the entrance hall, deliberately skidding in her long socks on the polished wooden flooring and wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Wynn!” Yukiko hugged him tightly.

“It’s good to be home,” he smiled down at her, then looked up as Miyu approached.

“Amar will be back later this evening,” she said, “but I texted him with the basics, so it won’t be a shock. Not that it’s a shock,” Miyu added hastily as she saw the other boy standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Welcome,” she bowed rather formally, “I hope you’ll be very happy living with us.”

“Uh…” Mihhaelo was unsure how to respond. “Thanks.”

Yukiko let go of Wynn and looked past him, her eyes widening, “He’s so pretty!”

“His name is Mihhaelo,” said Wynn as he turned and smiled at him because of the comment. “And this,” he took a small box from the top of his bag, “is for you.”

Yukiko took the present and read its label, “Snow-drops for a snow-princess.” She tore open the wrapping paper to find a small square box, and inside, lying beside one another on a velvet cushion, were two pear-shaped crystal ear-rings. “Oh, thank you!” Yukiko hugged him again.

Miyu smiled at Wynn, then she took the younger girl’s hand, “I think they both need some time to unpack, so if we leave them alone they can come and tell us all about it later.”

Yukiko grinned as she was led away, “Look what I’ve got!” She turned to look back at the two boys, then asked, “Is he really going to be living with us?”

“Yes, he is,” said Miyu. “Wynn has a very special friend now, and we have to make him feel part of the family, just like when you came to stay.”

Wynn brought in his luggage and closed the door, then bent to take off his shoes, and having left them by the door he began to lead Mihhaelo to the stairs leading up to the second storey of their large maisonette, but the other boy held back.

“Shouldn’t I…? I mean, it’s wood everywhere.”

“If you don’t mind,” Wynn was pleased for the consideration. “Yukiko’s always running around like that, and I’m so used to it I don’t even think about it any more, but I suppose to someone else it’s a bit strange.”

“Not really,” Mihhaelo leaned against the wall and pulled off his boots, treading carefully in his socks as they went upstairs.

Wynn’s room was almost four metres square, with shelving for books and CDs in two alcoves on either side of a filled-in fireplace whose mantle-piece hosted a variety of small ornaments and candle-holders. The far wall had a sash window overlooking the communal gardens separating the back of their terrace from the one in Holland Road, another had a single bed lying alongside it, at the end of which stood a wardrobe of inlaid wood, whilst the last wall was next to a reclining chair, and a small desk on top of which sat a grey laptop computer.

“Well, here it is,” said Wynn, but when he received no reply he turned to see Mihhaelo’s back slide down the door-frame until he was almost sitting on the floor, his head bowed behind his knees. “I suppose I could have had chiffon drapes everywhere,” Wynn joked about the medium-blue walls that had a well-spaced collection of images by various artists, interspersed with little sconces that held electric bulbs set high near the ceiling so their light was reflected downwards, then wished he had kept quiet as he realised the other boy was almost crying.

“I just wasn’t expecting this,” Mihhaelo’s voice broke.

“Is it really that bad?” Wynn kneeled on one of the rugs.

“What?” Mihhaelo looked up suddenly, only now aware of how his surprise had been misunderstood. “No, it… it’s so much more than I’d imagined. I should have trusted you…” his voice faded.

“Come on,” Wynn helped Mihhaelo stand, “let’s make somewhere for your things, and I’ll show you the rest of the place. Or it can wait until later, if you like? I know you’re still very tired.”

“I’m not used to things happening so quickly, that’s all.”

“There’s no rush,” Wynn replied gently. “I’ll let Miyu know so she can tell the others, and I need to give her these anyway,” he took another small box from the top of his bag. “I’ll only be a couple of minutes, so have a look around.”

Wynn returned downstairs to find Miyu in the kitchen, washing and cutting vegetables in preparation for dinner. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I should have given you this earlier, but Yukiko threw me off-track.”

“She’s been excited ever since you called from the station; she missed you a great deal.” Miyu turned from the sink and dried her hands, then gave Wynn a hug, “I’m so happy for you.”

“It was completely unexpected,” he admitted. “I certainly wasn’t looking, it just sort of happened. Miyu, I really do love him, but could I ask you all to give him some time to settle in and become part of the new routine? I don’t mean treat him with kid gloves or anything, but he’s only just made an important decision to live with me, and even allowing for that he’s very fragile at the moment. You know what Yukiko can be like sometimes, and Mihhaelo isn’t used to being the centre of attention.”

“He can have all the time he needs,” Miyu smiled, “and I’ll make sure she doesn’t pester him too much, but you know she won’t understand you’re more than just friends.”

“Don’t worry,” Wynn reassured her, “we’ll be careful. I suppose the only way to be really safe is to starting shutting my door at night, but it might get awfully stuffy unless I open the window a bit; I’m sure we’ll work something out. Anyway, these are for you, and I have a book for Amar.”

“You shouldn’t have done,” Miyu opened her present to reveal a small pair of Limoge ear-rings shaped like orchids, “but I’m glad you did; they’re lovely, thank you.” She placed the box carefully on top of the refrigerator, “Does Mihhaelo need anything special to eat?”

“He was ill recently, so he’s still a bit weak,” Wynn saw no reason to explain anything else just yet, “but he’s not fussy, and in any case he needs to get his strength back.”

“I thought he looked a bit pale,” Miyu commented, then she smiled again. “We’ll soon have him back on his feet; look what we did when you moved in.”

“This all happened so quickly,” he did not really want to broach the subject, but thought it best to do so now rather than leave it until later, “so I never really had a chance to ask… you don’t mind me bringing Mihhaelo back, do you? I know you’ve always said I could do whatever I liked with my room, but I don’t think we ever considered having someone living with me.”

“You’re right, I suppose,” Miyu replied, “but then I never explicitly said you couldn’t, and I’m hardly going to throw him out as soon as he’s arrived, am I? He looks as though he’s been having a hard time of things recently, but we’ll manage.”

“I know it could look as if I’ve dragged home a stray, but I really haven’t.”

Miyu smiled, “You don’t have to explain, and I do trust your judgement.”

“I knew you’d understand. Is dinner at the usual time?”

“Yes, and then we can hear all about your holiday, and how you met.”

“You’ve got a virus!” Mihhaelo’s exclamation startled Wynn when he re-entered his room.

Wynn looked at his desk, but the laptop computer was still closed and switched off. “How do you know?” he asked, puzzled, then Mihhaelo indicated the small white keyboard propped against one of the lower shelves. “Oh, you mean that thing. I think I told you I’d messed around with songs and things?”

“Yes, but…” Mihhaelo was at a loss for words as he kneeled beside the synthesizer and touched it almost lovingly, “this is like telling me you have a bike and then showing me a BMW.”

Wynn smiled at his enthusiasm, “Sorry to disillusion you, but it was a hand-me-down from Catherine when she simplified her system.”

Mihhaelo turned in surprise as he stood up, “Is there another girl living here?”

“Heavens, no, there would be no room otherwise, though there’s a sort of attic next to the main roof that could be converted, I suppose. She’s the landlord, and she lives in the basement; she likes decorating and designing things. There was another keyboard and half a dozen black boxes with lots of flashing lights, but she got rid of them all and gave me a good deal on this. It doesn’t take up too much space, and it’s fun to play with, which is all I need.” He opened his luggage and began sorting his clothes into light and dark piles, ready for washing in the machine downstairs. “Dinner will be about quarter-to-seven, so you can have a bath and a nap if you like. Although my legs are slightly longer than yours, we’re roughly the same height, so my things should fit you quite well. My clothes are sort of graded from fine to casual, and slightly tatty things for around the home, so take whatever you want for now.”

“I’ll pay you back somehow,” Mihhaelo sat on the bed.

“For what? I’m not running a tab.”

“I’m not a freeloader,” his tone was adamant.

“There are a couple of good charity shops in the High Street that I’ve used myself, and around the corner in Ken Church Street, so we can see about getting you some of your own things in the next few days.”

Mihhaelo almost groaned, “And finding a job.” He flopped back against duvet, “I never thought I’d be doing this… settling in, I mean. It feels so strange after wandering around for so many months; it’ll take a while to get used to.”

“But you don’t regret it?”

“Not if I can be with you,” Mihhaelo replied, then he turned his face away as he realised what he had said. He half sat up on his bent elbows, “Are there any rules I should know about?”

“A few because of Yukiko, but it’s pretty much common sense. Knives and anything else that’s sharp are always kept in drawers, and none of the cleaning things or medicines are ever left out, but other than that…” Wynn paused for a moment, then continued, “Oh, about the medicines, if it can be eaten or drunk it’s in the kitchen, if it’s an ointment it’s in the bathroom, and there are bandages and plasters in both places. If you need anything else there’s a chemist back the way we came, on the corner with the High Street, and there are a couple of local mini-markets, one across the main road behind the pub, and the other at the end of the next block near a physiotherapist, but be careful if you go on the main road because there’s a council slum that reeks of drugs and dog’s pee, and if the dog’s out in the front it’ll try and get you; it’s best to stay on this road and just turn right at the end. As for actual house-rules, there aren’t that many, and they’re pretty obvious. There’s a combi-boiler rather than a tank, so hot water is literally on tap all the time, and whenever you go into the bathroom you close the door, unless you’re just washing you hands or something; you don’t have to lock it, but it lets people know someone’s in there, and they just knock to see if it’s all right to come in. Everyone has their own toothbrush and large towel, but the hand-towels are shared, and whenever you have a bath you wipe it down afterwards or give it a proper wash if you think it needs it. The lounge and kitchen are common ground, so whatever’s there can be used by anyone, but everything in here is mine, and next door is for the girls, so if we want to borrow something we always ask so we all know where things are.”

“That seems fair,” Mihhaelo looked down at the bed. “What are we going to do about tonight?”

“I’m sure we can think of something,” Wynn chuckled as he sat down.

Mihhaelo lowered his gaze, “I meant it’s only a single.”

“We still have the spare mattress from when I used to stay over, so if you take the bed for now, then we can alternate. Later on, if you like, I can ask Catherine if she’ll make something for us both? The hotel bed was two metres square, but a standard double will fit in here easily enough and still leave plenty of space if we move things around a bit. Or if you’re worried things are moving too quickly…?”

“I think so,” the other boy nodded, then realising he had not clarified the situation, added, “the double, I mean, once I’ve… we’ve…”

“We’ll take it one day at a time, all right?” Wynn touched his cheek. “I said there was no rush for anything, and I meant it.”

“I feel like I’m being spoiled,” Mihhaelo almost sounded as if he was complaining. “Now I see why you act like you do, because you have all this to come back to; it’s so safe and secure, and you have people who just take you as you are. They really love you.”

Wynn put his arm around Mihhaelo’s waist and used his other hand to turn Mihhaelo’s face towards his own, “This is yours as well now, and if you give the others some time they’ll start to love you as well, you’ll see.”

… … … …

Mihhaelo entered the kitchen, but stopped suddenly as he saw Miyu tidying up after having cleaned the work-surfaces, and he hesitated, by which time she had become aware of his presence and turned to smile at him.

“How are you settling in?”

“Uh, fine, thanks,” he did not really know what else to say, though he was telling the truth.

“Don’t worry, you’ll soon get used to it,” Miyu said.

“Used to what?” he was already confused.

“Being with so many new people,” she explained. “Did you want something from the kitchen?”

“Only some water.”

“Help yourself, “ Miyu indicated the large filter jug on the sink, took down a clean mug from the shelf, and handed it to him. “You look nice in those clothes,” she added. “Yukiko already thinks you’re adorable, and we all know how special you are to Wynn.”

“What do you mean?” Mihhaelo turned from filling the mug, then in response to the sudden amusement in Miyu’s eyes returned his attention to the sink to see water overflowing onto the draining-board, and he hastily set down the filter jug, his cheeks colouring briefly.

“Wynn never told us anything about his first partner,” she said, “and he’s never brought anyone back before, so you’ll have to forgive us if we seem a little curious. I hope dinner wasn’t too much like an interrogation?”

“No,” Mihhaelo answered, “it was fine,” and too late realised he was repeating himself.

“You’ll find us all very easy-going. Yukiko may look on you like a new toy for a while, but if she gets a bit nosy, she’s easily distracted, so all you have to do is tell her you’re busy and she’ll leave you alone without getting upset. Just be gentle with her, though; there are a lot of things she still doesn’t understand, and she’s younger than she looks.”

“I’ll try and stay out of everyone’s way,” he drank some of the water so it would not spill as he walked towards the door, and in leaving the kitchen he thought he heard Miyu say something in reply, but he could not be certain as her voice was normally quiet and she was no longer facing him when he turned to look back.

Wynn turned over onto his back again and opened his eyes to stare up at the darkened ceiling before shifting his gaze and picking out details in the room from where a small amount of light bled around the lined curtains that during the hot days also reflected heat. He could hear Mihhaelo’s slightly ragged breathing a couple of metres to one side, then there was the sound of the mattress bending under weight as the other boy shifted.

“Are you still awake?”

“I can’t settle,” Mihhaelo admitted. “I wish that baby would stop wailing as well; it doesn’t cry all the time, but it’s so loud.”

“Baby?” Wynn frowned, then chuckled.

“What?”

“That’s a fox, silly; I’ve never seen it, but it travels along the gardens quite regularly, and when the wind’s in the right direction you can hear the peacocks from Holland Park.”

“Oh, right.”

“There are also lots of crows and magpies, and an occasional jay; or would you rather listen to cars and trains?”

“No, it’s just that hotels are anonymous, I suppose because they’re public things, but this place is so… I don’t know, alive, personal.”

“It’s your home now, too,” Wynn was glad his slight frown of concern remained unseen, for Mihhaelo was again referring to himself as an outsider. “I admit it took me a week or so to fully adjust after I moved in myself, but you’ll soon get used to it. Did you have your own room before, or were you sharing?”

“That was…” Mihhaelo’s voice faded, then after a few moments of silence he continued. “It belonged to my brothers, I was just… there. It wasn’t even ‘home’, really, just somewhere I happened to be.”

Wynn’s stomach tightened at the plaintive tone of the other boy’s voice, which implied he had never thought of himself as belonging anywhere, and Wynn sat up to reach out and find Mihhaelo’s arm where it lay across the cover.

“What…?” Mihhaelo was startled by the unexpected contact, but did not attempt to sever it.

“You need one of my special hugs,” said Wynn gently, “guaranteed to make anyone feel better. Yukiko loves them, and I know you will.”

“There’s not much room,” Mihhaelo was pointing out an obvious fact rather than complaining about the lack of space, or trying to refuse the offer.

“Plenty down here,” Wynn slid his hand along the other boy’s arm and briefly interlaced their fingers, “and nothing to fall out of.”

Wynn heard Mihhaelo’s breathing change as an outward sign of his deliberation, then after a few seconds Mihhaelo half sat up and swung out his legs, pulling the cover with him as he first kneeled carefully beside Wynn so as not to tread on him before lying down. Mihhaelo laid his cheek against the front of Wynn’s shoulder as Wynn curled one arm loosely around Mihhaelo’s waist, his other hand guiding Mihhaelo’s free arm around his neck.

“Comfortable?” Wynn asked.

“Mmm,” the reply was subdued, then half a minute or so later Mihhaelo said, “I can hear your heart beating.”

“Well, good,” Wynn chuckled quietly.

“No, I meant… it’s strange, being like this, but I think it’s nice.”

Grateful that the darkness hid his surprise, Wynn merely said, “Your skin is so soft, but your body’s so firm underneath; you’re lovely and warm.”

“Huh,” Mihhaelo replied, but the sound indicated a smile.

“I don’t have to go in to work tomorrow, so we can stay like this all day if you want to.”

“I think you would, wouldn’t you?”

“Making up for lost time.” Wynn kissed the top of Mihhaelo’s head, “Try and rest.”

“Hmm,” Mihhaelo’s sigh was almost distant, then his body slowly began to relax and his breathing became more regular.