Where is he? Where is he?
'It will be easy to spot him in the crowd, the impatient french thought to himself. And really, even though there might have been thousands of people at the airport and a hundred of them exiting the departure spot, there was only one. The one and only ...
„Mohammend!!!" The french with the silver hair ran up towards a dark tone man with long curly hair that he wore in a lose ponytail and hugged him with a happy smile. „You are finally here!!"
The man who just arrived wore a red robe and patted the head (or hair?) of the french. „Yea. I am glad to see you too, Polnareff~"
Polnareff started to sulk. „How many times did I tell you to call me by my first name? We are not only battle comrades anymore...." He sighed and crossed his arms infront of his enourmisly built (for a man) chest. Meanwhile the man whom he had been called Mohammed got his luggage and returned to the french man. Mohammeds confident smile turned into a more shy one. „Yea, I know ... I still gotta get more used to that, right?" He chuckled when he saw the others expression. „Aw, c'mon, don't pout like that...", he said, even though he found it really cute to have Jean Pierre Polnareff, the most emotional man among the battle comrades that they had been, making a face like an annoyed little child.
„I am sorry, okay? .... Jean ..." Mohammed leaned forward and kissedJeans cheek. The pale man started to blush heavily at this. „Ugh ...n..not here, man..." Jean grabbed Mohammeds hand and pulled him towards the exit of the airport.
Damn. So embarrassing! Jean still hasn't really gotten used to him dating the more grown up egyptian Mohammed Avdol. They had met two years ago during a trip to basically save the world. That's how Jean liked to describe their trip.
And Avdol .... Mohammed ... saved Jeans live like twice already. The first time resulted in a graze shot in the egyptians' head. And during the second time ... Jean held the artificial hand of his boyfriend more tight in his. He tried to shake it off as that day has been one of the most horrible day in his life so far.
He took a deep breath after they exited the shuttle bus. It wasn't that far anymore and they would arrive at the hotel that Mohammed would stay in.
„You're so quiet. How unusal", the fortune teller remarked. Jean looked up. That was true. „Ah ... it's nothing", Pierre smiled. „I was just ... thinking too much of the past but the present is so much better!" He leaned his head against the shoulder of the other man.
„Oh and here is your hotel", Jean said as he stopped infront of it. „My house is only five minutes from here. So let's meet up there after you are done unpacking, alright?" Mohammed nodded at that suggestion and smiled, having some strands of hair in his face, making it actually look much prettier than when he had his hair all tied together. „See you in a bit then, Jean." Then he walked into the lobby.
Meanwhile the silver haired french hurried back home to get the list he wrote. He wanted to show his boyfriend the beautiful city he lived in. Until now Jean had usually gone to visit the other in Egypt since there was something magical about seeing his boyfriend work and walk around in the city in general as well. But now it was his chance to show the city he loved and lived in.
X –X – X – X
„Oi, I am here!!" Mohammed spot the silver haired man waving as he was walking down the street. It was always amusing to spend time with Jean, since he was a cheerful, energetic guy. In contrary, Mohammed wasn't a man of talking much. Well ... he was normal ... but compared to Jean, unless he really had a topic to talk about, he was the more silent one.
And as energetic as Jean was he started showing him around this huge new city that he loved so much. It was amusing to watch the french talking this excitedly about so many things. It was, to be honest, very adorable.
But as time passed, it was already in the late afternoon, Pierre was still showing Mohammed around. „Oh and this café ... you will love it! We should go and have breakfast there tomorrow ... the coffee isreally great there and --" Soft, delicate lips stopped the silver haired man from talking. His eyes widened at the sudden gesture as his cheeks started to blush too.
„Jean", Mohammed began speaking. „It really is amazing to be here and thanks for showing me around. But ... I didn't came here to do sightseeing all day." He shook his head and put his hand in Pierre sneck. „I came here to spend time with you, my love."
And here Jean would have thought, that HE as a french was the more romantic one in the relationship. But the ghoosebumps he got from these words were telling otherwise. „Y...Yes", was everything he was able to say as he could not stop how his body was magnetically pulled towards the dark skinned man and felt no shame kissing him on the street again.
After their lips parted again, Jean whispered. „Then ... follow me ..."He held his lovers hand and walked up some stairs that where hidden in a narrow street with many bushes and they arrived at a small garden balcony that seemed to be forgotten by everyone else. There was an iron garden bench on which they sat down and watched the sunset turning the whole city of paris into a golden red city of love.
The two men hugged each other while looking into each others eyes as their faces got painted in the color of the setting sun. This was just the perfect moment. A moment of peace. A moment that only the two of them shared. Jean closed his eyes and leaned his head on Mohammeds shoulder. „I love you", he whispered, breathing in the exotic scent of the other. Mohammed rubbed Jeans back lovingly. „I love you too, Pierre", he responded and pressed a tiny kiss on his forehead.
After they have been sitting there for a long time of quiet peace, Mohammed then purred:
„So... do you want to stay the night at the hotel with me?"
And Jean had nothing against that idea . . .