Archive of Our Own

Stanley suppressed a smile.

He shot a lopsided glance at his boyfriend and cleared his throat with a cough to get his attention.

"Can I put this on?" he asked innocently, lifting his beloved leather jacket in front of him.

Xeno turned, but his interested expression quickly changed to a disapproving grimace.

"Really, Stan? I told you tonight's keyword is elegant . I'm not taking you there! At the cost of losing the ticket money!"

"For you, the keyword is always elegant…"

"So I'm asking you to be elegant just one night and follow this dress code... it shouldn't be that hard, right?"

Stan laughed. It was just the reaction he expected.

"Stan, don't piss me off, Stan!" Xeno continued in a firm voice, but with an amused smile, the same one he had always reserved for him.

"Come on, love," Stanley replied after laughing loudly. "I already know I have to wear that hideous suit you made me tailor."

Xeno pretended to be offended but softened by the nickname his partner had just used.

"You were there too when they took your measurements and also at the next two fitting. Three times and I mean three times, we went into the tailor's shop and you never complained."

Stanley, without answering him, resumed pleading his case. He lifted his jacket back to his eye level.

"But I could be original and put..."

"NO!" the other man exclaimed, his big black eyes widening. "Put it in the closet, Captain Snyder," he said, pointing his index finger in that direction. "Im-me-dia-te-ly!"

Stanley took too long to observe the jacket, not showing any willingness to put it away. Xeno snorted and tried to grab him by the sleeves but he moved forward, throwing the jacket on the bed and grabbing his boyfriend before he landed on the floor.

"You're so sexy when you get mad. If everyone knew how hot you are," he whispered against his earlobe. "I couldn't stay calm for a second. I should kill anyone who comes close to you. You are mine."

"Stan," Xeno muttered in response, placing a hand on the man's chest to regain his balance. His words had made him blush, even after he'd been through - excluding the years when they were just friends - almost four months together. "Please don't start. We barely have time to eat and get ready. I've already called the taxi."

"Me? I'm not saying anything, except that I find you, Dr Xeno Houston Wingfield, incredibly sexy," Stan replied candidly before scratching his chin and giving him a radiant smile.

"You are more beautiful," Xeno commented, melting at his caresses and reaching forward to meet his lips. They closed their eyes at the same time.

The kiss was slow and so natural. 

They had done it often; even in moments when they could not name their feelings as teenagers or when in reality they had to love other people, looking into different faces from their answers that they only found as adults.  But since they had overcome their fears, the quality - as well as the quantity - of the kisses had increased.

They had been able to experiment with different times and positions, not only in terms of kissing but also in terms of their sex life. Tremendously active.

Stanley pulled back with a snap. "No, you are more beautiful, my little doctor."

Xeno mumbled something that sounded like 'liar' and pulled away from his grasp.

"What are you doing?"

The man, who had taken advantage of the distraction of his childhood friend, managed to grab the leather jacket and walk over to the closet while Stanley still waited for an answer.

"I make sure you don't get any strange ideas about what to wear and above all, I'm going to take a shower," Xeno replied without looking at him as he carefully put the evil jacket back on a hanger.

The captain smiled complicit and at those words, he began to take off his sweater.

"What are you doing?" asked Xeno, who once turned around and noticed his boyfriend now even without his pants.

Stanley seemed to be waiting for nothing more to speak.

"I make sure I don't get any strange ideas on what to wear and above all, I'm going to take a shower... with you."

Xeno ran a hand over his face, trying not to laugh. "Stanley Snyder..."

"Water is a precious resource, we shouldn't waste it!" he answered, mimicking the voice of his partner who gave up and began to unbutton his shirt. "It doesn't make sense to take turns, don't you think?"

"On that, I can't contradict you..." he whispered before Stanley slipped off his panties and stood naked in front of his eyes.

---

Stanley looked in the mirror.

He had put on the tie Xeno had given him when he told him they were going to the theatre, and a strict dress code was required. After two seconds he already felt like taking it off and throwing it in the back of the closet.

"Stan, are you ready?"

The soldier heard Xeno's voice in the corridor.

"Not like I thought," he muttered. He looked up and saw the other enter the room. 

Saying Xeno was handsome was an understatement.

The suit tightened him, but he did not diminish his slender body; the white shirt gleamed in the neon light and stood out against the black tuxedo fabric. The two gold cufflinks, which Xeno was torturing with his fingers at that moment, embellished the cuffs of his jacket. The perfectly matched hair had been combed over and over again.

For a moment Stan thought he was going to pass out. He tried to activate the normal salivation of his mouth, but he found himself licking his lips more than once in vain.

"But no, of course, you're ready," the scientist retorted, analyzing him with his eyes and betraying some admiration in noting how he managed to make him dress like him, or almost. He walked over to Stan, still out of breath, and poked his back. 

His thin fingers then straightened the knot of his tie. 

"How elegant you are, Stan, you are so beautiful," he told him, throwing his arms around his neck, being careful not to wrinkle his shirt collar.

Stan hugged him with the impetus common to all people in love and kissed him. He touched her lips violently, ignoring Xeno's muffled lines of protest. He deposited kisses everywhere: on the corners of his lips, on his nose, on his cheeks, on his chin.

"St… Stan!" Xeno finally managed to stammer, red in the face, as the other began to bite his ear and lick his warm skin. "Stop it, now!"

Stanley paused, letting out an annoyed snort, but continued to hold him close. He lowered his face, burying it in his hair.

The scientist closed his eyes, ignoring the echo of his heartbeat. He was afraid he might kiss him again. He was however disappointed when, contrary to his order, Stan was indeed stopped. 

The soldier deeply inspired his mixed smell of expensive aftershave and something that could only describe him. He seemed to calm down.

"I want... I want you," he replied quickly with a dry mouth. His hands caressed his back.  Xeno doesn't blink. "Please…" he added, sliding his hands over Xeno's ass and pressing it against his pelvis. The man appealed to all his self-control to resist.

"Stanley, you are insatiable! No! The taxi is about to arrive and the show starts in an hour. We are already late."

Stan rolled his eyes. 

"But not even a quickie?"

His boyfriend glared at him, pulling away forcefully from his arms. He marched to the door without looking over his shoulder.

"You are depraved, Snyder! Adjust your jacket and fix your hair again."

"Xeno, love, come back here," Stan said, holding the flaps of his jacket closed, as he had seen the other one do a thousand times, and following with his eyes the man who had left him alone.

"Dear, move! If the taxi comes and you're not ready, I'll leave you here."

Stan could still hear the echo of his footsteps. He grabbed a black pigtail and quickly tied his hair that had grown over the past few weeks, peering into the mirror. 

Xeno thought that this way he could have a more elegant note. He had recommended it to him the previous evening. The man could not help but please him, not only because he shared his idea of him but above all, because he wanted him to be proud of him... and worthy of a man as spectacular as Xeno.

---

The voice of Xeno Houston Wingfield was incredibly erotic for Stanley Snyder.

However, that wasn't the only thing about him that turned the soldier on. He found his boyfriend perfect when he was silent too.

Inevitably, even if he tried not to be noticed in public, he found himself undressing him with his eyes, wishing he was in their bedroom away from prying eyes.

When Xeno had given directions to the taxi driver and they were greeted by the flashes of photographers waiting to enter the theatre, Stan was unable to contain himself. The smile the other man had given him fleetingly reminded him of what he had given him the day Stan approached that skinny boy to help him with the books he had dropped. His heartbeat had gotten more frantic just like that Tuesday. He still remembered the first moment, when they were only 10 years old, in which their eyes met and never left each other.

"No, we're just friends," Stanley heard Xeno say. He shook himself. He hadn't caught a single word. He had been busy staring at his mouth for too long. He liked his voice but he was distracted and didn't pay the right attention to his reasoning. It was a shame because witnessing his speaking abilities, especially when he could make anyone shut up with the use of reason, was another thing Stan loved about him.

He knew he meant the two of them. It couldn't be otherwise.

Xeno had taken part in a television project to raise young people's interest in science. He was the youngest scientist and brilliant mind of NASA, the perfect candidate to be able to achieve their goal.

Xeno then became almost famous, considering that his program progressively began to conquer an ever wider audience even of different ages from the target for which it had been studied. However he wasn't a TV star, but some reporters were interested in his life as well. At the theatre, with the premiere of the opera which they would soon attend, they wanted to interview him and seeing him arrive in company had enticed them.

They were friends, of course, they were, but there was no reason for her to introduce him like that and by the way, Xeno replied it seemed almost he denied their real status.

Actually, Xeno rarely used words describing them as in love, but Stan knew they were and that he loved him back...

The man bit the cigarette that he had between his lips and which he had lit after getting out of the taxi.

It was so frustrating!

He felt a hit on his hip and looked down to find Xeno was nudging him to show him a low man with a recorder. 

"Good evening," Stan said, stunned.  "Captain Stanley Snyder, the youngest pilot to dominate the sky!" The journalist said slightly annoyed, a sign that perhaps he had tried to attract his attention more than once. That reporter had recognized him even if he had left his uniform in the wardrobe for that night. 

“… Stanley and I have been friends for years, ever since we were kids, and we are also passionate about opera. We couldn't be here tonight," Xeno explained calmly, satisfying the curiosity of the gathered crowd around them. He had rushed to his aid even though between the two, Stan was the one who fascinated everyone with his beauty and confidence. He was never uncomfortable with people but journalists were a category of people he would gladly live without.

"A man like you, Captain Snyder, must have a lot of women!" A reporter commented, getting so close that her breast was touching the soldier's arm.

"Stan is single, but he won't be for long and certainly not thanks to you, miss," Xeno replied with a tight smile. Then he grabbed Stanley's wrist to drag him into the theatre. The man offered no resistance, leaving the reporters' flashes behind him.

Xeno was often jealous of him but tended to let that emotion devour him inside until it was Stanley who assured him that he only had eyes for him.

Before they passed the ticket office, Stan turned to look at the reporters. They no longer seemed interested in the two of them and the flashes were tireless for someone more famous than Xeno had just arrived at the entrance.

His partner's hand was no longer around his wrist. Xeno had walked away, slaloming among all those who, like them, were willing to attend the opera. Xeno stood from behind, stamping his foot against the edge of a step, next to the statue of Dionysus, the god of the theatre. He had crossed his arms on his chest, Stan could see his coat pull upwards, following his figure.

Xeno turned slightly, waving greetings to people who passed him or who called his name with a smile. Only then he resumed his elegant position.

Stan assumed he knew how Xeno felt. It didn't matter how many years they had known each other, but seeing him with that look on his face was always incredibly painful. Xeno had lied and had done it for a specific reason that he had to do with their job, their place in society. Conditions Stan was fed up with.

He wanted to be happy and to be happy, he had to be with Xeno without anyone finding it inappropriate or trying to woo him. He had to erase forever that grimace he made when he noticed that others paid more attention to him and his phantom suitors.

Stanley could tell he fell in love with Xeno so quickly that he didn't notice. He didn't want to make him suffer for what was only of him.

He waited for him to finish saying goodbye to a woman in fur and walked firmly towards him. Stan put a hand on his shoulder, making him turn around.

"What?" Xeno snapped, recognizing his touch. Stan tightened his grip on the shoulder, showing himself not intimidated by his voice.

"You know there are no problems for me. We are both indispensable to our chiefs, we cannot allow our private life to obscure our talent. I don't give a shit about others if I have to..."

"Not now, Stanley. I didn't spend this money on giving me a headache," he replied, once again refusing to address the speech he had tried so many times to wrap up.

He hadn't expected photographers to recognize them, but the opera attracted not only journalists looking for actors, but also those who knew they could stop some of the most important entrepreneurs, doctors or politicians. Their names were meant to lengthen the blurbs of articles that people would read the next day even without knowing any of them.

"Okay," the other agreed, following him through the door.

One day they would talk and, even if he couldn't get him to change his mind, he would think of another solution.

---

The interior of the theatre was sumptuous and, if Stan could have created a new term, he would have said it was so xenonian. This was certainly one of the places where his boyfriend felt home.

The soldier did not feel out of place as he had feared. Maybe just a little, but for another reason.

His partner found his smile only when someone greeted him, but it was not a sincere one. For the rest of the time, he avoided focusing on Stan.

Even when they were arguing, Xeno was able to get away from him and instead now... he had succeeded, even just walking a meter ahead of him.

They walked up the stairs in silence as Stan alternated his gaze from Xeno who was talking to a theatre attendant to the cream walls. When the attendant helped them find their seats, Stanley was surprised, given the large turnout, that there were only two stools in that loggia.

"Thank you, mister Mark," Xeno syllable to the boy, who, after returning the greeting, closed the door behind them.

"How do you know his name?" Stan asked, pointing angrily at the barred door. He hated being sidelined. He did not speak to him, he did not give him any sign from the entrance but greeted by name what must have been a stranger. Maybe he knew him… maybe he had even been an ex of him.

Stan regretted he hadn't gotten a good look at him. On one thing, however, he was sure: that Mark looked so much like him. Light hair included.

Xeno, oblivious to his boyfriend's worries and conjectures, interpreted his request as a plea for peace. He knew it wasn't Stanley's fault, but he couldn't pretend it was all right.

One day Stan would wake up and realize he couldn't waste his time with a man like him.  Making him jealous or showing him how complicated it was to interact with him could be the only way to save his life.

He couldn't allow a perfect boy like Stan to suffer for him, to stand by him for… what?  A few more months? Maximum a couple of years?

He couldn't bear the burden of ruining his life on his conscience.

So Xeno looked at himself in the mirror affixed to the wall, bringing his hands to the tie that for the first time seemed to be strangling him and then sat down on the stool on the left.

"How do you think I do? He's got the tag on his chest!" he revealed it to him, noting how Stan had remained silent and awaiting explanations. "Sit down..." he muttered, gesturing to the chair.

He didn't want the evening to go like this. He hoped that Stan would understand that they came from different worlds after the play and that maybe he was making a mistake. He had realized he loved him when he realized that Stan wanted to stay close to him.

Nobody ever wanted to stay for him and with him.

Stan was the exception, his soul mate as Charlotte, Stan's twin sister, said to him but she was too romantic and optimistic for Xeno's tastes.

The soldier still hadn't moved. 

Xeno turned forward and looked at the still closed curtain. A few meters below them other people were taking their seats, slipping between the rows of armchairs.

"I don't know why we always have to fight," Stan said, suddenly waking up and letting himself fall on the stool, exhausted by his thoughts.

"You are jealous and I am jealous of you. We feel the same however you don't want others to know... you do it to make me suffer."

"It's not like that," Xeno promptly protested, whirling around. It was exactly the only thing he didn't want. He loved him and would do anything to protect him.

Even from himself. 

Especially from himself.

"No?"

The other's voice was derisive.

"No, you idiot."

"Don't insult me or I get aroused," Stan replied, further confirming what his boyfriend already knew. 

Xeno didn't laugh, he just looked straight ahead and focused his gaze on the frescoed ceiling of the building. He didn't know what to think, except that Stan was the only one who managed to go from a serious conversation - a full-fledged fight - to consider their sex life.

Stanley took one last look at Xeno's profile and analyzed the room they were meant to be in... a few hours? He didn't remember asking his boyfriend how long the play was going to last and now was not the right time.

Luckily he noticed some papers on the table next to the wall. He reached out and, almost twisting it, managed to grab one.

'Orphèe et Euridice by Christoph Willibald Gluck,' he read silently, moving his lips to follow the words. The title was not in English.  "First performance in the... FRENCH version?"

Xeno turned.

"Yes, you told me you know French," he replied.

Stanley's eyes widened.  His hands trembled as they tightened the glossy paper around them. "I never said that! I..."

He froze.

He quickly thought back to when Xeno had told him that he was willing to go to the new opera. He had immediately said yes. He wanted to go there if it was with him even if he had no interest in that. It was a chance to be together since they were always busy with their jobs.

The scientist had told him on the sofa that during the many commercials that diluted the movie, he did not remember the ending because immediately after talking about wanting to go to the theatre, Stan had attracted him and kissed him. Their clothes had fallen to the floor in a natural cause-and-effect relationship.

"... no, I never said that!" he concluded, rubbing the depliànt with renewed strength.

“I'm sorry, sometimes I forget… we're different. If you want I can try to get you the ref..."

"NO!" Stan thundered, jumping up and stepping on the book. "You know very well that..." 

Xeno motioned him to sit down. "Calm and keep your voice down!" he forced him, pursing his lips.

"... I don't know French and you know that very well..."

"Sit down now."

"... I didn't force you to lie to the journalists out here..."

“Snyder put your ass on the stool and shut up NOW!"

Stan did as he told him. 

He found himself a victim again of his ability to exercise control even if it was his job. Deep inside, he wanted to scream at him that it wasn't okay, that he didn't want to sit down, that he wanted to continue voicing his damned frustration. 

Only once in the theatre, Xeno had transformed. He had always been the same Xeno at home before.

Their coexistence was peaceful. 

They laughed and argued about stupid things like which compartment of the fridge put the milk in and made love. They also spent hours looking into each other's eyes, talking about everything and nothing, repeating anecdotes that testified that life, since they were together, had become more beautiful and taking their hand. Caressing each other to say goodnight or because one of the two had got up from the sofa to go for a drink.

"Don't scream," Xeno resumed after a few minutes. "I was wrong. I... I didn't want to force you to do this, I hoped that..."

He broke off. 

Maybe he wanted Stan to stop him and dismiss the speech, but he didn't want to. For once Stan couldn't give up making him talk. He turned briefly and checked the curtain. It was still closed, but he wouldn't be for long.

"Listen, maybe it's not the place I wanted to talk to you about it and not even the right occasion, maybe it's too early but you have to listen to me. Stan, you're the one," the black-eyed man spelt and for a moment the other stopped breathing. He kept to the edge of the balcony.

That sentence was the most beautiful thing he could ever hope to hear. Maybe he wanted to ask him to marry him? Was that perhaps why he had said that soon he would not be single anymore?

Stan — even though he'd never said it out loud — liked weddings and… he'd always dreamed of finding someone to share his life with. For years now that person looked more and more like Xeno every day.

He took a deep breath, his heart beating far too loudly enough to fear he couldn't hear his boyfriend's low voice.

"... you are intelligent, responsible, we have shared a lot although we are so different..."

Stan shrugged, weighting his feet against the wall. His hands were still shaking.

“… Too different. I can read it in your eyes that you have desires that unfortunately do not meet mine at the moment..."

The soldier's face contracted, losing his smile.

"... because you're the right one, but I'm the wrong one."

The light that had guided the audience up to that moment and that had filled the large rooms faded. The play was beginning.

"Are you leaving me?" Stanley asked, heedless of some 'shhh' whispered by the occupants of the neighbouring loggia. He squinted his eyes that had begun to burn. An imaginary punch had hit him straight in the stomach. If he tried, he could feel his knuckles pushing against his abdomen.  Xeno struggled to watch the stage, finding the theatre for the first time prison and not a home.

“I… I don't know,” he admitted in a faint voice. "I don't want to make you suffer and waste your life on someone like me."

Stan still couldn't figure out if he was dreaming or if it was happening. The Orchestra had started to play, but the man heard nothing except the echo of Xeno's words.

I don't want to make you suffer and waste your life on someone like me.

I don't want to make you suffer and waste your life on someone like me.

I don't want to make you suffer and waste your life on someone like me.

"Okay, okay," he just said as soon as he found the word. He turned to the stage and remained silent, feeling the other's gaze burn his head. Neither was able to find something to say to heal the other's heart.

---

"You just talk shit."

Even if only a confused murmur between Eurydice's notes, Xeno could hear it but did not react. Whenever he rehearsed the speech he had come to prepare for that moment, he knew Stan would react badly.

His accusation needed no specifics and this, Xeno, knew all too well. 

Stan couldn't say more. His throat was burning, his vision was now blurred. He was crying, it was too late to deny it. He was crying because he cared about them.

Xeno did not find the strength to look at him and preferred to look at dancers who were performing in the background to the tenor who played Orphèe. Stan wanted so much to motivate his sentence but couldn't.

He knew that the scientist's heart would never totally belong to him - he was a fantastic man and ready to give his all for his dream - but he had hoped for a different ending with him.

"Think of it as you like," Xeno finally considered, moving uncomfortably on the stool. "Stan..."

But he continued to ignore him.

"I'm sorry, but... it would have turned out like this."

The man sniffed at him, closing his eyes with the tears that he was ashamed to shed again for love. He had to remind himself who he was.

"It would be over, you know, between us," Xeno continued, interpreting his silences as an invitation to explain. “We have lived through some important moments and our friendship will not end anyway. Sometimes I think if it weren't for you, I wouldn't even have a reason to get out of bed."

"EXACTLY!" Stanley rose, jumping on the impede. “Why are you doing this to me if you love me? You love Me!" he screamed, facing Xeno. Both did not hear the impatient cries of the other spectators seated in the adjoining loggias.

The other man did the same.

“Of course I love you, you idiot! I love you so much that I'd rather let you go than see you unhappy! I can't-"

He couldn't say more, finding Stan's mouth against his own.

It was a fierce kiss as if with it he could change his mind or at least convince him to stay. With a kick, Xeno moved the stool, pulled Stan against the wall farthest from the balcony and jumped into his arms. The other bit his lower lip, pulling and sucking it until you feel the faint ferrous taste of his blood. Xeno's hands didn't stop shaking as he flinched. He grabbed the pigtail and let his hair down. He pulled away, feeling his lips burn and throb.

"I deserved it," he considered.

"And what did I do to deserve you?" Stanley asked on impulse. “You drive me crazy, in every sense and… I want to continue being crazy but with you. Don't leave me, you can't leave me. I don't know how you do it, but you manage to make me feel so many emotions together that it makes me dizzy and fall in love at the same time. Even when we fight, I fall in love even more, even now that you've told me to… you can't believe we can break up, because I won't let you."

"Stan, I..."

"You love me..." the other said again, adjusting him to his waist. His breathing was heavy, but he wasn't going to put it down. “And I love you. Enough. Will we break up? I don't think so and even if it was, I'll win you back, I promise. If I don't get married to you, I won't marry anyone else. And I want to get married."

Xeno noticed that he was sniffling too. He rested his head on her shoulder, pressing his nose against his neck.

"They seem pretty serious promises to me, I might as well believe you." 

"Do it then."

The scientist closed his eyes, ignoring what he didn't want to hear deep inside him. 

"Do you forgive me? I mean... this useless attempt of mine to save your life?"

"Getting away from you is not living," Stan replied promptly. "And I have nothing to forgive you, now I know how to change your mind."

"Then I'll try to believe your words, Snyder," Xeno finally whispered and the weight on his heart seemed to disappear entirely.

---

Ten minutes later, a couple of less aggressive kisses and a straightened stool, Stanley and Xeno found themselves sitting and watching the play.

Half of the first act had already passed and luckily Xeno already knew the opera. Stan instead trusted that it was similar to the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice.

The legendary singer had lost who he loved and had gone down to hell to recover her. The man thought it was similar to their quarrel a little earlier.

He, like Orpheus for Xeno, would even have gone down to Hades to have him back with him too. Unlike the myth's tragic end, Stan didn't want to turn around.

"Why did you force me to come here?" he whispered to him, tilting his head as if not to disturb the orchestra and the dance troupe further. "Did you already have in mind to leave me or were those fucking journalists to inspire you?"

"It was just my bad decision... And I certainly didn't want to do that talk to you here, my love."

"Now I'm 'my love', huh?"

Xeno squeezed his hand, bringing it to his knee.

“I had other plans for tonight. If you noticed, I asked for a loggia just for us. I know a girl who works here who took care of it."

"And..." he urged him to continue, opening his hand and starting to delicately scratch the fabric of the trousers of his newly found boyfriend.

“I remembered something you said about foreign languages. When I was

studying Japanese, you said French would… stimulate you even more,” he explained with a smirk. “So… as we watched the play, we could also test your resistance threshold to my voice. You always say that you find it so erotic..."

Stan opened his mouth, but he closed it immediately, unable to formulate a coherent thought. He stared at him with renewed excitement and bit his lip as he looked at the mark he had left on his companion's.

Xeno knew which keys to touch with him. He said nothing, did not motivate his words. Aware of the other's gaze on him, he tried hard not to look at it.

"Oh!" Stan sighed, at last, settling himself on the stool and just tugging on Xeno's hand that he held with more fervour than before. “Did you want to… seduce me? Here at the theatre? But it's not elegant!"

Xeno laughed, but the hoarse sound he made didn't help distract Stan from the heat he felt exploding in his belly.

"I mean..." he gasped, looking around and trying to get away from the music around them. He felt tremendously watched, even though they weren't on stage. "What do you want to do?"

Xeno leaned forward, just biting his lip and looking him in the eye. The light, which Stanley was used to seeing in them, had returned.

“Te rendre heureux, mon amour [Make you happy, my love],” he muttered against his cheek as he raised Stan's hand to him by his right thigh. "Te rendre très heureux, mon amour."

"I only understood: 'my love', but that's okay," the other commented, stiffening at the sound of how Xeno's voice was adapted to speak the language of love. His hand, still guided by him, was coming dangerously close to his groin. "Talk to me again, please."

“Pourquoi ne te mets pas confortable? J'ai quelque chose pour faire me pardonner. Je suis sûr que tu apprécieras. [Why don't you make yourself comfortable? I have something in mind to be forgiven. I'm sure you will appreciate it.]"

Stanley closed his eyes, enjoying the sound of every single word. His loose hair fell over his face.

“God, Xeno, you don't know what you make me want now. If we were home, I'd bite off your clothes."

“Tu es seul celui- là qui doit déshabiller, mon amour. Laisse-moi faire, tu n'en regretteras pas. [You are the only one who has to undress, my love. Leave it to me, you won't regret it.]"

Stanley's eyes widened as he felt that his hand had lost contact with Xeno's. He ran it over his pants, feeling incredibly sweaty, and watched as his boyfriend was pushing his stool against the wall, far behind him.

"Xeno?"

“Assieds-toi ici, mon cheriè, [Sit here, my darling,]” he pointed to his seat, looking at him intently.

"Should I sit there?"

Xeno just nodded. 

"Do you still speak to me in French?" Stan asked him eagerly, taking the place indicated and staring at him waiting to hear his answer.

“Certainement. Jusque quand tu ne jouiras pas, je n'arrêterai pas de te parler en français, [Certainly. Until you come, I won't stop talking to you in French.] ”Xeno calmed him, pulling off his jacket and folding it carefully.

Her fiancé watched him march to the table and set it back on the surface. Xeno adjusted his still unbuttoned jacket and moved the stool to be closer to Stan.

"Xeno," Stan muttered, running a hand over the zipper of his pants. He felt under the palm of his hand and layers of cotton and satin the effect that the voice of his favourite scientist had had on him. He swallowed as his beloved companion continued to watch him in silence. "Please... tell me something, do anything to me."

“Je le vois. Tu ne résistes pas, [I see it. You don't resist,]" the man agreed, running his tongue against the inside of his cheek. He stopped to study Stan's profile. His pupils dilated, his tongue wet his lower lip waiting to feel them against those of his boyfriend, his laboured breathing.

One of the things that made him both satisfied and intimidated by Stan was how he depended on him for sex. Xeno still couldn't explain why an incredibly handsome man like his Stan could have found him desirable.

It was not a question of knowing how to stimulate the physical but mental erogenous zones.

Xeno recognized Stan's longing gaze even when he looked at him upon awakening, his hair was unkempt and froth at his mouth. Stan made him feel loved, protected, wanted and… maybe it was better not to think about it right now, or for once in his life, he wouldn't use logic.

“Pose la tête contre le mur et tu mets ainsi les bras, [Put your head against the wall and put your arms like this,]” he instructed, grabbing his wrists and adjusting him by himself. 

Stan moaned as if he was physically close to orgasm and Xeno interpreted that sound as totally positive. He sat down next to him. He placed his left hand on his chest and stared into his eyes. "Petit, il est l'heure que tu dois te dénouer les pantalons, [Little one, it's time for you to undo your pants,]" he whispered.

Stan inspired with his mouth open and eyes narrowed. He placed his hand on Xeno's.

"What?" he gasped, exhausted from the effort he was putting in not to jump on him. He still felt Xeno's pelvis against his, his hands on his pants, imagining burying his face against the starched fabric of his shirt, safe in their bedroom.

“Baisses les pantalons. Je veux te voir jouir dans ma main. Je ne veux pas faire se salir. [Drop your pants, I want to see you come into my hand. I don't want to get you dirty.]"

"Did you say something about my pants?" Stan looked for confirmation, looking at the fly. He moved quickly, moving Xeno's hand that kept him from moving. "Do you want me to take them off?" he added and without even waiting for more, he fumbled awkwardly with the zipper. He felt his fingertips slide on the iron tab, but he couldn't squeeze it to pull it down.

“Avec calme, amour. Est-ce que tu veux que figure je? [With calm, love. Do you want me to do it?]"

"What fucking calm!" Stan answered, standing up. The zipper that had gotten stuck slid until it stopped at the base, hidden among the stitched folds of the trousers.

Before he could fully lower them, Xeno pushed him onto the stool. His fingers gripped the edge of his briefs.

"Come on, you can't look at me like that and then..." Stan raved, smiling nervously. "You're a goddamn cocktease, Xeno Houston Wingfield."

"Qui? Moi? [Who? Me?]” Xeno laughed, “En français la traduction de ce terme - Allumeuse - existe seulement en relation aux femmes. Est-ce que tu le savais? [In French the translation of this term exists only in relation to women. Did you know that?]"

"I have no idea what the fuck you're saying," Stan whimpered, "love, please, just let me come!"

The man bit his lip and a slight pang of pain made him regret having done so. It wasn't nice to laugh at his beloved Stan's despair at that moment.

“Tu as raison, amour. Quiet. Je t'aide. [You're right, love. Quiet. I'll help you.]"

Stan, sensing the general meaning of the sentence, relaxed against the wall and spread his legs. The trousers slumped around his knees.

"Fuck, Xeno, don't stop talking," he moaned, closing his eyes. "What I wouldn't do to you!"

With his hand, he stroked the barrier still offered by his underwear. Xeno, as soon as he noticed it, gently took his wrists.

“Laisse-moi faire, [Leave it to me,]” he commanded, gripping his hips weakly. He leaned so far that he almost ended up in his arms. Stan barely raised a leg to pin him to himself, but Xeno forbade him. "Stan," he called, speaking into his neck. “Tu ne dois pas te toucher, je veux te voir jouir sans non plus te masturber. Tu jouis pour moi, amour. [You don't have to touch yourself, I want to see you cum without even masturbating. Come for me, love.]"

"Fuck," Stan cursed through gritted teeth as he lifted his pelvis in an attempt to rub against Xeno, but he, foreseeing his moves, escaped him. "Xeno, please!" he pleaded, trying to find relief.

Then he heard them.

The hands of the man, who had made the last few months extremely beautiful to live, move quickly to move the shirt from his waist and unroll the elastic of the briefs on his toned legs.

"Yes, yes, yes," Stan chanted hoarsely, feeling the pressure exerted by the spring around his swollen and painful erection. "Talk to me, Xeno," he said, insisting on rocking his pubis back and forth, "in any language. Just talk to me,” he gasped.

Xeno took a cloth handkerchief from his pocket and spread it in the palm of his right hand. He leaned forward, grabbing his hair with his other hand to force him to look at him.

“Regarde- moi dans les yeux quand tu jouis. Stan, relay the tête. [Look me in the eye when you come. Stan, raise your head.] "

Stan followed his orders or rather was forced by the strong tug he had given him to do so. He opened his mouth, demanding a kiss that wouldn't come that easily. He closed it only when his panties were pulled down.

He felt the movement of air like a whiplash against hot skin and swollen testicles.

Xeno rolled the handkerchief around the glans and, being careful not to grab it, held it in place. Stan almost lifted off the stool as he pushed his pelvis hard.

Feeling even a piece of cloth was something for him to hold on to.

His breathing became more laboured, his legs threatening to bend, tense as they were to make that strange movement.

He had the impression that the sweat was blinding him, the notes that the Orchestra was playing and that he had ignored all the time seemed to him more acute.

The stool he was sitting on creaked under his weight as Xeno's hand went to meet Stan's pelvis, close to orgasm.

Mindful of how much Xeno loved his purple eyes, Stan stared at him, searching for those of his boyfriend.

“Jouis, jouis, jouis por moi, [Come, come, come for me.]” Xeno growled against his mouth, leaning over him. He rested his lips on his for only a fraction of a second and then withdraw them and direct them along Adam's apple. He grasped the delicate skin with his teeth until he pulled gently. Stan let out a strangled sound as he succumbed to the temptation to close his eyes and finally let go to the maximum pleasure. Xeno's mouth pushed to claim access and he let him. He had neither the strength nor the will to oppose.

When Xeno broke away, Stan knew he couldn't wait any longer. His eyes widened and this time he saw the ones he had fallen in love with years ago.

He smiled encouragingly while his hand was still clenched around the base of his erection. "Xe... Xeno..." he stammered in a broken voice, almost whimpering.

The familiar feeling of shattering swept through him with a crescendo of intensity until...

“JOUIS, MAINTENANT! [COME NOW!]” Xeno yelled at him and, once again, Stan managed to comply with an order from him. His muscles stiffened and his hair, wet at his roots, fell on his face as he slumped without strength on the seat.

“Je t'aime. Je t'aime beaucoup, [I love you. I love you so much,] "Xeno whispered to him, still bent over him and still in the exact position of a few seconds before.

The soldier smiled exhausted at him. Their near breakup had almost been a nightmare that never happened.

"Xeno..." he said, unable to add more. "Trust me, man, I love you much more."

---

"But is it already... finished?" Stan asked, yawning as the lights in the room came back on.

"No, it's half time," Xeno replied, rising from the stool. "I guess you want to smoke a cigarette."

Stan turned to him, still seated and heavy-lidded. The only thing, after pulling up his pants, was to sleep. Sleeping embraced by Xeno in their bed. He would even have given up on smoking that night for him.

"Get up, we have twenty minutes."

"Okay... fine," he yawned again, standing on his feet. "I'm so tired."

"So now you understand me when I say it," Xeno joked, buttoning his jacket and retrieving his companion's jacket from the table, still folded. He made sure there were no creases and held it upside down for him to wear.

"How long is it to go home?" Stan asked in a groan, taking turns sticking his arms through the holes in the sleeves.

"An hour if not less. The second act lasts less."

"Like you when I make you..."

"... how nice," Xeno interrupted through gritted teeth. “It is not elegant. Just move,” he added, patting him twice on the back.

Suddenly the soldier's dazed expression relaxed and looked down.

“Stan?"

"Will you take me to the bathroom?"

Xeno nodded and opened the door to the room. "The bathrooms are at the end of the corridor on the right," he explained.

Stan followed him and, past the brown door with the men's plaque on, he found himself in the bathroom. A couple of urinals were occupied while the doors to the toilet passages were open.

"Come here," he whispered against his ear and without waiting for Xeno's answer, he checked that no one was looking towards them. He pushed him into the first cockpit and closed the door quickly.

"But what are you thinking?" Xeno asked in a low voice, or at least he tried. "Look, you can't smoke here!"

"No, I have a better idea... after all, you are still..." Stan retorted, bringing his hands to his boyfriend's waist. "... Swollen," he winked.

"Stan, please…"

"… And please is what you will scream," Stan concluded, kneeling. He had lost his pigtail when Xeno had let his hair down, but he didn't care. He threw them backwards and settled on the floor.

He gritted his teeth as he collided with the tiles and resisted. He looked up to look at  Xeno's face. He unbuttoned his trousers and unlike his companion, he let it fall to the ground, only interested in taking off his underwear. He smiled to see how right he was about his erection.

“I love your eyes,” he told him breathlessly as he felt the outline of his cock beneath his palm. He squeezed it around softly so as not to hurt him. "Look at me while I take it in my mouth."

Xeno gave him a tight smile and grabbed his hair to push him against her and prevent him from adding anything else.

"Shhh... Do you want to be heard?" he whispered, clutching his locks of hair and helping him get closer. Stan looked into his eyes and opened his mouth, waiting for him to slip between his lips. His tip brushed his teeth before touching his palate. He closed his eyes for a moment, lulled by Xeno's restrained moans and the pangs of pain in his head from the hair pulling on him. "God! Yes! More!” he urged, grumbling and pushing himself to touch the back of his throat. He stood still, hearing Stan gurgling. When he threw his head back, he was about to cry.  

"Go on, love," Xeno said softly, running his hand over his cheek. Stan clung to his ass and went back to sucking. Stronger than before.

"Go... oh my God..." he moaned, letting the saliva wet his lips and his hands began to tremble until he was forced to harpoon the other's hair to find a sort of balance. He spread his legs even more and Stan followed the movement of his pelvis to find it planted deeper, almost in his throat. "Don't... not... my God... stop..."

Then suddenly, there was a knock.

Stan pinched him on the leg. Xeno looked in alarm at the face of his boyfriend who kept giving him derisive looks as his mouth was around his erection.

"S-t-i-l-l," he told him in a low voice but Stan didn't listen to him. He resumed sucking with more vehemence, touching his ass and letting himself be overwhelmed by the pure and simple desire to want it.

Xeno bit his lip again, enjoying the torture of being one step away from la petite mort .

"Occu... pied," he croaked at last, feeling he wasn't smart enough not to get caught while his secret boyfriend was giving him fellatio in one of the theater's bathrooms.

"Please," he whispered to himself more than Stan but he heard it. They stared at each other, careful to communicate with their eyes what words could not say.

In response, Stan nodded and tightened his grip. Xeno broke his promise and closed his eyes, letting his mouth give him and guide him to the other side of pleasure.

At the same instant his hands gripped him.  He was about to burst.

"FUCK, YES!" He yelled, pulling his hair to keep him closer and not make him lose an inch of skin. "I'm going... my God, Stan!"

Stan wanted so much to answer, but apparently, his mouth was busy. He muttered something but intensified the stimuli. His hand caressed his testicles ready to empty.

"Stan!" he moaned, letting go. At that moment Xeno closed his eyes, with his head thrown back and in danger of falling because he was not against the wall. His hands were still buried in the other's hair.

He took a deep breath, completely in peace with the world as Stan swallowed the cum that he still felt all over his mouth, smiling at the sweet taste of him.

"Get up," Xeno whispered to him as soon as he could speak again. Stan leaned on his hands to give himself the push and got up only after adjusting his briefs and pants. “Hug me,” he told him in a tremulous voice.

"For all the life," Stan retorted, pulling him into his arms. "I love you, marry me," he told him without thinking. It was since he had thought he was going to ask him to marry that he had thought about it.  He wanted everything with him.

“I could seriously consider it,” he replied without the slightest intention of laughing after a few seconds. "But until that day..."

Stan kissed his forehead, licking his lips at the exact moment when Xeno just moved his head back.

"Until that day…?"

"When we get home, you will know." 

"Give me at least a clue."

Xeno ogled him with a lusty grimace as he clung to his shoulders.

"Baise moi," he murmured, lifting his chin and biting the tip of his nose. 

"Kiss Me?"

"Not exactly…"

Stan's gaze wandered to the white walls and turned to the closed door.

"Oral sex in the theater bathrooms and a hand service in the seventh sector loggia."  "Shhhh, do you really want to be heard?"

"Why not? I am happy with you and others could only envy us. We have sex everywhere and it's extremely good too,” Stan laughed.

Xeno's cheeks turned red. "Do not say that..."

"You also know it's true... anyway I also expect you to speak to me more often in French." 

Xeno gave him a knowing look.

"Do you want to tell me that you will learn it with me from now on?"

“Of course not. I just want to cum while you talk to me in French."

"Then I won't."

Stan made a face with his mouth. 

His lips took on a shape similar to a cat's face.

Xeno sighed. 

"You are beautiful even when you look stupid."

“I repeat: do not insult me. You just make me horny. May we go?"

"Home?" Xeno asked without remembering that they were waiting for the other act.

Stan smiled at him.  

His smile for Xeno was always so bright and full of love.

"Everywhere, with you by my side, I feel home."