Excerpt: Saxifrage

“So what’d you think of Eleanor? Is she a good thing? I mean I dunno, I get on fine with girls, but she’s sort of different, like she thinks too much. Like you.”

Alain smiled at that. “It’s not possible to think too much,” he answered, without heat -- it was a longstanding argument between the two of them. “I like her. She’s very nice, and I believe she’ll be dedicated to the study of Chrétien. She’s incredibly thoughtful, you’re right, and she’s very pleased to be here.”

“Yeah. So.” He touched Alain’s hair gently; the other boy shivered a bit but didn’t pull away. “Uh,” JJ said, slightly derailed by the sight of Alain’s shoulder slipping out from under his old T-shirt. “Uh, so. What’s the big deal about this Chrétien guy? I mean, he’s that one you showed me the picture of, yeah? Some dead guy.”

“One of my ancestors,” Alain reminded him. “Rather, the brother of one of my direct ancestors, Lucie. I’m sure I told you all of this before, Jean. You really ought to pay attention.” He shook his head fondly and drew his feet up onto the bed, tucking them under his knees. “He was a poet,” he went on. “He lived during the time of the French Revolution, in Paris. We don’t really know very much about him at all. I’ve tried to decipher that diary Genevieve found some months ago, but it’s really quite difficult to make out the handwriting, and in any case I wouldn't be able to put what he wrote in context. That’s why Eleanor is here, Jean, to look over the diary and spot what the rest of us can’t. She ought to look at the letters, as well, and see whom he was writing to and what he found important to say. It should be fascinating to see what she learns.” He smiled down at JJ, in a peaceful mood, and JJ took advantage of the moment to slip his arm gently around Alain’s waist.

The older boy went stiff for a moment, and JJ held his breath in case he was going to pull away like he usually did, but he stayed put and just took a deep breath. “Jean,” he murmured quietly, his voice sounding distant and a little sad. “You know I’m not here for--“ He blushed again -- JJ could tell this time because of the warmth of his cheek so near to JJ’s own.

“I know,” he assured him, and gave his waist a reassuring little squeeze. “Just don’t want you to get cold, cher. You can do whatever you want, I mean, I’m not going to say we should do something or whatever, but you were the one that came here so. I mean. It’s up to you, Alain, I’m not gonna be rude or anything, promise. Cross my heart.” He made an X over his heart, very sincerely, and Alain laughed a little.

“Oh, Jean,” he said fondly. “I’m not certain what I would do without you. You’re -- you realize, I hope, that even though we’re not -- that even though I’m not able to be with you like that, I really do depend on you. I’m,” he started to add something more, and then broke off, shaking his head, and just leaned his head carefully against JJ’s shoulder.

That was more or less bliss, in JJ’s opinion, and he lifted the blanket to draw it around Alain, to keep him warm. “Thanks,” he said, unable to keep the stupid smile off his face or out of his voice. “Uh, I mean. Thanks.”