French Diversion

The bass thumped in his chest as Gilbert downed his beer. He stood leaning back onto the bar taking large gulps of his sixth beer that evening. He wore black jeans and a dark blue shirt that was open at the neck, exposing his Iron Cross necklace. The club was loud and full of young, beautiful people like him, their bodies swaying and gyrating to the electronic noise. Normally Gilbert would be up dancing with them, eyeing the ladies in their skimpy dresses and heels, trying his luck with the boys too in their tight shirts and clinging jeans. But tonight, Gilbert was in no mood for anyone. He scowled at all the people having fun, his platinum blond hair falling into his crimson eyes.

His girlfriend had left him.

This afternoon on his way back from work, he had gotten a text from her, saying how unsatisfied she was with their relationship and that she was leaving. She was moving in with a 'friend'. On the way out, Gilbert had passed Roderich as he came out of the music shop he owned. He was one of Gilbert's almost-friends, someone he liked to pester when he could and who's place he could crash at when he couldn't find his way home after a drunken night out.

Roderich was also one of Elizabeth's exes, and one who was still on friendly terms. Gilbert had stormed up to him, fists clenched ready for a fight and demanded to know if he and Liz were back together. The brown-haired man had vehemently denied everything Gilbert accused him of, this was the first he knew of their separation. Gilbert then warned him that if he was the supposed 'friend' Liz was moving in with, there would be hell to pay and if he dared try to get back with her, Gilbert would remove his innards with his bare hands. Roderich nodded his head at Gilbert's words with pity in his eyes. He then patted Gilbert's shoulder before walking away. A gesture that said many things, yet nothing at all.

Anyway, Gilbert was single again and was no shackled with the many bills for his flat. Elizabeth's wages and his had meant they could live a comfortable life, but now she was gone Gilbert would have to be careful. Luckily he had enough money to survive, and failing that he had his brother to help him out. Ludwig could be boring and too strict with everything, but when it mattered he would always step in to help. But Gilbert had enough money to last him until he decided what to do. The first thing he had done was contact a locksmith and changed the lock on his flat. It cost a fortune, but it was done in an hour. Since then, he had been barraged with texts and calls from his ex, demanding her possession and asking how he could be 'so childish as to change the lock on THEIR flat?'

Gilbert sneered at that. The flat was HIS, he had bought it with his own money – and some of his brother's – a month before she had agreed to move in. Gilbert wanted to remind Elizabeth of that fact, but instead he had sent her one text explaining that 'she would get her things when he was in and they would be waiting for her outside in the hallway.'

Gulping down the last of his beer, Gilbert smiled and grabbed a Polish barmaid – or boy, he couldn't really tell in the flashing lights – and shouted for another beer. The ones they had were watered down compared to the ones he could get back in Germany, but today he didn't care about taste. Today was about getting as drunk as possible as cheaply as possible.

All of her shit will go on ebay, he thought as he handed over his money. All those fucking photos and cooking equipment, all of them can go on ebay. Anything left can go in the skip; she'll get her toothbrush is al!

The tempo changed and Gilbert watched as more bodies surged towards the dance floor, shrieking and holding their drinks high as they danced with friends. Gilbert eyed them; now he was single he had more right to look at the potentials out this Friday night. No one seemed particularly noticeable. Lights flashed, girls screamed, guys muscled in the girl's groups hoping to single out the one they had their eye on... a typical night. People began to push towards the bar and Gilbert stepped to one side, not wanting to get caught in the crowds.

First night of being single and all I can do is mope, Gilbert thought, slugging his beer. This is not awesome at all. I need some action! Now!

His red-eyes scanned the club. He focused on those that seemed to stand out. A rather loud American was dancing wildly, arms flailing and head rocking on his shoulders. His body looked great, but his voice was a little too loud; Gilbert could hear it over the incredibly loud bass of the music. He didn't want someone talkative tonight. The American's dancing partner looked like his brother, except with longer, curlier hair and a smaller frame. He looked good enough, but seemed too timid. Gilbert wanted someone who knew what they were doing, not needing pointers. He skimmed the crowd again but no one else stood out. Gilbert shook his head, guess he would be sleeping alone tonight.

Suddenly several bodies push forwards towards the bar. Gilbert was forced to stumble to the side to avoid the crush. Somehow, his drink fell from his grip, glass and alcohol spraying across the floor. Gilbert sighed at the sight. Today was definitely not his day. The Polish barmaid appeared with a dustpan and brush, scowling at she – or he, Gilbert still wasn't sure – bent down to clean up the mess. Gilbert was impressed by the promptness.

A hand settled on Gilbert's shoulder.

"Oh pardon, I didn't mean to bump into you," said the stranger, looking concernedly at Gilbert and his shirt. He had shoulder-length blond hair and deep blue eyes. He wore rather tight fitting black jeans and an even tighter white shirt that clung to his body. He had a strong French accent, but it didn't impede his English too much. "Did I make you spill your drink? I'm sorry."

Gilbert brushed his shirt and waved the hand away. "It was nothing really," he replied, noting the large group of jostling men that had appeared at the bar. They were all drunk and rowdy, looking for a fight or a fuck. Judging by the way they were eyeing the girls on the dance-floor, it was the latter. Gilbert was pretty sure they were the real cause of his spilt drink.

"Please let me buy you another drink," the man said as the barmaid disappeared. "To make up for my clumsiness," he added with a smile.

Never one to turn down a free drink, Gilbert nodded. He watched at the man wedged his way between the crowd – some of whom had drinks but refused to move away – and gestured at the servers behind the bar. Gilbert let his eyes wander over the man, taking in his toned frame. Thanks to Liz, it had been a while since he had been with a guy.

But that's all over now, Gilbert thought as he let his eyes settle on the man's backside. Gilbert hummed in appreciation.

Gilbert turned back to the crowds before the man could catch him staring. A bottle of beer appeared in his vision, which Gilbert accepted gratefully. The man had a glass of red wine in his hand, which he swirled expertly.

"You seem a little down tonight. May I ask why?" he said between sips of his drink. He was pushed closer to Gilbert by the swarm of people so that their arms were touching. His cologne smelled pretty good too.

"It's that obvious huh?" Gilbert barked. "My girlfriend dumped me."

"Sorry to hear that," the man said. He sounded sincere.

Gilbert shrugged. "S'ok. Nothing I can do about it." This was true, no matter how much it hurt. Liz was a stubborn and determined person; once she set her mind on something nothing would stop her from getting it. Gilbert normally ended up going along with whatever she wanted; it was better than trying to fight it and ultimately losing. He had never admitted that to his friends – they all thought he was awesome, which is how it should be. Losing to a girl was not awesome and not cool. A tiny voice in Gilbert's mind said he missed Liz.

"I'm Francis," the man said, offering his hand. Gilbert shook it without his usual forcefulness as he tried to return to the moment and not wallow in self pity.

"Gilbert," he mumbled back.

"You're looking for a new girlfriend I take it?" Francis asked with a raise of an eyebrow and a smirk. Gilbert found himself smiling back. This man's happy persona was a little infectious and he was quite pretty for a guy... Gilbert tore his eyes away. He didn't even know if this guy was gay or just over-friendly and he didn't want to make a wrong move.

"Looking for a friend, doesn't matter which type to me," Gilbert found himself saying as he scanned the crowds once more. From the corner of his eye, Gilbert caught Francis smirking.

"I'm glad you clarified for me," Francis said, moving closer. He wrapped an arm around Gilbert's waist. "I was wondering if I should try my luck with you."

"You should know, I'm not in the mood for anything serious," Gilbert stated, his red eyes locking onto blue. He didn't move Francis' hand away though.

"A distraction then?" Francis said with a little shrug.

"Exactly what I'm looking for," Gilbert replied, edging closer so his hip connected with Francis.

More drinks were bought and the conversation continued smoothly. Apparently, Francis worked for an interpreting agency and today was the last day of an international conference, which was why he was in the city. He was staying in a hotel about an hour away. He had originally come out with some friends, but they had all returned to their hotels to prepare for their early flights back to their respective homes. Francis had managed to book a later flight for himself, thus had opted to stay out and see the city sights.

Gilbert briefly outlined his dream of being in a band, but for now was working in an accounting firm to build up his cash reserves. Despite only meeting Francis a few moments ago, Gilbert felt as if the man understood him. As the night wore on, Gilbert found himself forgetting all about Liz and his problems. Now was time to have fun. It was Friday night and he was in a club with a good-looking guy at his side, who seemed to understand what Gilbert wanted.

Several giggling girls bumped into him and began to try their luck, to which Gilbert tactfully declined. As they left, Gilbert gulped down the last of his beer and – as discreetly as possible, as they were in a straight club – slid his hand under the hem of Francis' shirt, brushing the man's skin with his fingertips.

"So... your place or mine?" Gilbert asked, his lips near Francis' neck. He tried to make it seem as if he were merely placing his empty glass on the bar, but he caught several shocked faces from the corner of his eye. "I'm about half an hour away by taxi."

To his credit, Francis didn't take any notice of the stares from passersby. Instead he placed his almost empty wine glass down on the bar, which just so happened to be located near Gilbert's waist. Francis snaked a hand around it and rested his hand there.

"I'm at least an hour away," he muttered in response.

"I'm closer. Follow me," Gilbert stated, not daring to take his hand. He pushed past the staring onlookers and led Francis towards the exit, grateful to be leaving the loud thumping bass behind. His ears started to ring as he walked up the stairs towards the club's only exit.

Outside the club, the air was blissfully cool against his skin. Gilbert didn't realise how much he had been sweating. The bouncers – a pair of Scandinavians Gilbert thought, seeing as they towered above everyone with their blond hair and blue eyes – nodded at him as he passed with Francis trailing behind.

For an evening of moping, this turned out good, Gilbert thought as he waved a hand to hail a taxi.

Moments later, Gilbert was stepping inside a taxi, smirking as he felt Francis' hand trail along his backside. He took a seat and gave directions to the cabbie, who grunted in reply and began to complain to someone through his radio. Gilbert buckled himself in and pressed his head against the window, enjoying the coolness on his forehead. Francis sat by his side facing in the opposite direction. Both he and Francis remained silent as the city flew by in a blur of grey and orange. Gilbert made sure he behaved himself – taxi drivers never appreciated anyone getting frisky in their cabs – but couldn't resist keeping a hand on Francis' thigh.

Eventually the taxi arrived at Gilbert's apartment complex. In the dim night light, the building looked very foreboding and unwelcoming with tiny windows and narrow staircases. Luckily Gilbert was on the second floor of the five-storey building, so he didn't have to walk far. His apartment wasn't the biggest of the complex, but it was an average size with a spacious kitchen, separate living room and bedroom. Gilbert pulled his keys out of his back pocket, fumbled with the lock and threw open the door, making it crash into the wall. He winced at the sound, but Francis chuckled.

"That eager are we?" the Frenchman said with a smile as he followed Gilbert inside. Gilbert smiled as he dropped his keys onto the coffee table.

"Want a drink?" he asked as he watched Francis close the door. "I've got wine somewhere, I think it's red. It belongs to my ex, so feel free to drink it all."

Francis laughed. "Sure why not?"

"Make yourself at home," Gilbert called over his shoulder as he made his way to the kitchen. He reached inside one of his cupboards, tugging out two wine glasses by their stems. With his foot, he managed to open push open a smaller cupboard that contained his alcohol collection, which was mostly beer, but there were the odd bottles of wine and vodka. Liz always hated him opening the cupboard with his foot. She hated most of his beers too, she always tried to get him to drink wine like her.

Don't think of her, Gilbert scolded himself. He reached down and pulled out a wine bottle. It had been opened last night, so Gilbert assumed it still tasted pretty good. He hardly ever drank wine, only when Liz-

Stop it! He thought again, pulling the bottle stopper out and pouring a liberal amount of wine into each glass. He took a gulp from his glass; it tasted of very strong vinegar, but he gulped it down regardless. Drink was drink.

"You have a lot of pretty things," Francis commented as Gilbert walked back into the living room. He was sitting on the sofa, one hand draped over the arm with his legs crossed. Gilbert noted how nice his legs were as he handed him a glass. "They belong to you or your ex?"

"Ex," Gilbert grunted swirling his glass. "Take something if you want. I'm not keeping her crap."

"Your parting wasn't friendly was it?" Francis asked, taking a gulp. He looked at the contents and nodded in appreciation. Gilbert assumed that meant it was good. It was vinegar to him.

"No it wasn't," he grumbled, sitting down next to Francis on the sofa. He toed off his shoes as he swallowed another mouthful of vinegar. Francis' shoes were lined against the wall, but Gilbert left his in front of him. "Through text of all things."

Francis hissed at his side. "Mon dieu, how distasteful!" He set his glass down on the coffee table delicately. "Well... maybe this will help you to forget."

In one smooth motion, Francis leaned forwards and planted his mouth onto Gilbert's. Gilbert gasped at the sudden contact, stubble scratching on his cheeks and feather-light lips were a wonderful contrast. Gilbert was surprised to feel himself twitch and grow hard just from Francis' kiss. Liz had never been able to-

Stop thinking of her!

Shoving all thoughts of his ex aside, Gilbert returned the kiss, snaking his hands into Francis' flowing locks and pushing himself forwards so they were chest-to-chest. Francis nibbled gently on Gilbert's bottom lip, silently asking for access. Gilbert was only too happy to oblige, darting his tongue into Francis' mouth. Francis only showed a second of surprise before wrapped his hands around Gilbert's body, pulling him closer. Tongues danced and fought for dominance. Eventually Gilbert had to admit defeat and pulled away, panting for breath with a dusky pink blush coating his cheeks.

Without a word, Gilbert took Francis' hand and pulled him off the sofa, leading him through the living room towards the bedroom. He pulled Francis close as they made their way towards the bed, kissing him again and clutching the back of his shirt. He spun their positions to ensure Francis would be underneath as they fell onto the bed. As he straddled Francis, Gilbert snaked his hands underneath the Frenchman's shirt feeling his toned body. Francis reciprocated and slid his hands up Gilbert's legs, reaching the tops of his thighs and tracing small circles through the rough material of his jeans.

Francis pulled away, a trail of spittle snapping against his chin as his tongue left Gilbert's mouth. "Forgotten about your ex now?" he asked with a smirk as he tugged Gilbert's shirt up and off.

"Who?" Gilbert replied with a smile as he hurriedly unbuttoned Francis' shirt, eager to see if the sight of him was just as good at the feel. He wasn't disappointed. He languidly trailed his hand along Francis' body, drinking in the sight before him. It had been so long since he was with another man...

"Come here," Francis said huskily as he brought his hands up to Gilbert's waist.

Smirking, Gilbert leaned down and placed his lips on Francis' mouth. Francis' hand cupped his cheek as tongues fought again. Gilbert wanted more, so began to trail kisses down Francis' neck and collarbone. With one of his free hands, he pinched and flicked Francis' nipple, enjoying the noises the Frenchman made. Not content with just his hand, Gilbert kissed lower and sucked the other nipple, causing Francis to gasp in shock and pleasure.

Grinning, Gilbert continued on his journey downwards, hands, lips and teeth brushing over Francis' body. He felt Francis' hand settle in his hair, tightening slightly whenever Gilbert hit a particularly sensitive spot. He slithered down between Francis' legs, hands fumbling at the button of the incredibly tight trousers. He heard Francis chuckle as he struggled, but eventually managed to unbutton the offending item and tug them down to mid-thigh, revealing Francis' hard cock.

Kneeling down on the floor, Gilbert licked Francis' cock from base to tip, his pace teasingly slow. Using the tip of his tongue, he lapped up the salty droplets of pre-cum as they formed. He felt the hand on the back of his head grip tighter as he took the head in his mouth and gave a harsh suck. He alternated using his lips and tongue, starting slow and soft, then increasing the pressure to firm and rough strokes and sucks. Francis bucked his hips under Gilbert's ministration, his breath shallow gasps and back arching. In a moment of fervour, Gilbert took Francis' cock to the back of his throat, managing to suppress his reflexes.

Francis' hand yanked his hair painfully in warning. Gilbert gave one last suck before pulling away, a grin plastered across his face. He climbed back up into Francis' lap; brushing his fingertips along Francis's waist and watching the man pant for air. If the pressure in his pants was anything to go by, he was definitely enjoying the view, especially when Francis' shuddered as Gilbert's fingers tickled his waist. Instead of giving into the temptation to kiss him again, Gilbert reached over towards a nearby chest of drawers, tugging open one of the compartments. He rummaged inside, trying to locate what he needed. He felt Francis' unzip his trousers with shaking hands and tug them down over his hips, releasing his own aching cock. Gilbert couldn't suppress a shudder as he felt Francis' fingers trace around his tip.

Eventually, Gilbert managed to locate a box of condoms, some tissues and a bottle of lube. He pulled them out and dropped them onto the bed while he fought to close the drawer. He heard Francis' breathy laugh as he struggled, which made him slam the drawer shut in annoyance. Francis sat up and raked a hand through Gilbert's hair as he pulled him into a fierce kiss.

Gilbert was sudden flipped onto his back, landing roughly on the mattress with his head enveloped by two rogue pillows. He felt his trousers and pants be forcibly tugged off and he heard them land on the floor in a crumpled heap. When he managed to escape the pillows, he saw Francis pulling off his open shirt. Gilbert swallowed at the sight... he was rather beautiful... He watched as Francis reached over to the bottle of lube and a moment of nervousness gripped him.

"You may need a bit more," Gilbert muttered in embarrassment as he watched Francis coat his fingers. The Frenchman said nothing, but smiled gently and added some more.

Gilbert couldn't help but tense when he felt one of Francis' fingers at his entrance. He forced himself to relax, taking a deep breath and looking up towards the ceiling. He winced as he felt a second finger add to the first, but Francis was slow and understanding. He began to make scissoring motions, stretching Gilbert as wide as he could go. It felt uncomfortable until Francis curled his fingers and hit something that made Gilbert see stars. His back arched and he couldn't stop the wordless moan that fell from his lips. Soothing fingers continued brushing along his thighs and kisses peppered Gilbert's hip and stomach.

"It's been a while huh?" Francis whispered against Gilbert's skin.

Gilbert barely heard him as he was swept along with the sensations. "Too long," was all he managed to rasp out.

Francis continued his torture, inserting a third finger. Gilbert hissed at the slight pain that flared, but Francis had settled on a rhythm which soon made him writhe and gasp for air. He bit his lip to stop himself crying out and gripped one of the pillows above his head tightly. Francis hit that spot once more and Gilbert couldn't hold the noises in as white-hot heat travelled the length of his body.

After several moments of Francis fucking Gilbert with his fingers, Gilbert could take no more. He reached down and tugged lightly on Francis' arm. The Frenchman smirked and removed his fingers, which made Gilbert whine a little at the loss of contact. Francis liberally coated himself with more lube before leaning in for one more kiss. Gilbert allowed Francis to hold him under his knees, hoisting his legs upwards. Francis lined himself up and with surprising gentleness, pushed his way inside.

Despite the ample preparation, Gilbert hissed when he felt Francis force his way inside. It had been far too long since he was with a man. Francis was considerate and didn't move until Gilbert gave a little nod. The pace was torturously slow at first, until Gilbert dragged his nails down Francis' back, making the man shudder and increase the speed. Lips crashed together and tongues darted as the friction grew. Gilbert could feel the white-hot heat from before burn brighter, starting in his stomach and spreading throughout his entire body.

As Francis shifted angles, he managed to hit that magic place again. Gilbert threw his head back as pleasure coursed his body and purple stars flittered across his vision, Francis' kisses on his neck barely registering in his mind. His muscles clenched tighter and tighter with each snap of their hips. He clawed Francis' back again, causing the Frenchman to bite Gilbert's neck in response. The jolt of pain travelled to Gilbert's cock, making it twitch. He could feel pre-cum leaking heavily as their pace grew faster, more urgent, more desperate.

Feeling his climax approaching, Gilbert snaked his hand down to grip his neglected erection. It took only a few strokes to tip himself over the edge, eyes rolling up and breath catching in his throat as muscles clenched and stars exploded behind his eyes. A warm, sticky substance sprayed across his stomach and chest. He heard Francis moan and after several irregular snaps of his hips, warmth pooled inside Gilbert.

They lay still panting and gasping for breath, savouring the aftermath of their orgasms with foreheads pressed together. After a moment, Francis rolled off Gilbert, who reached over for a tissue to clean the sticky mess. Both men lay on their backs, staring at the ceiling of Gilbert's flat, still panting and flushed in a post-orgasmic glow. Francis pulled the bed sheets up over their sweaty forms, though Gilbert pushed his side of the covers down to his waist. He could feel his body shutting down for sleep, all thoughts of the morning's events gone from his mind.

"A good distraction?" Francis asked, raking a hand through his messy hair.

"Very good. I've forgotten... all about..." Gilbert muttered, letting sleep claim him.

Francis merely chuckled.