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Augustine waved Diantha an enthusiastic goodbye and walked over to Lysandre, who was standing outside the café, smoking. He seemed pleased to see the professor and not only because the man had just had lunch in Lysandre’s own café. Lysandre gave the academic a small nod and a faint smile that had a strange bitterness to it that puzzled Augustine.
“How did your date go?”
The professor was a bit confused.
“Date? I guess you could also call it that, but I’d rather say we had lunch and chatted. It has been a while since I last met up with her.”
“Quite the catch, Diantha,” Lysandre said and took a long and deep drag from his cigarette.
“Huh?”
“Being the champion and all that.”
Now Augustine was even more confused than moments before.
“Hm, I guess yeah, sure, if I was into that.”
Lysandre raised an eyebrow, clearly asking the other to elaborate. Augustine sighed like someone who had gone through the same conversation many times.
“Women.”
Lysandre’s calm expression didn’t falter, but on the inside he felt about as calm as a Pyroar about to be hit with hydro pump. For the briefest of moments, Lysandre’s calm, stone-like façade cracked and he blinked in surprise, but regained his composure almost instantly, replying in a careful tone:
“Oh, I apologize. I shouldn’t have assumed, I just thought, since the two of you seemed so close – “
He didn’t manage to finish the sentence before Augustine interrupted him, brows furrowed:
“Wait a minute Lysandre. Never mind your heteronormativity, but are you seriously implying that, despite knowing me for many years, you actually don’t know that Diantha is my sister?”
Lysandre had never been so ashamed in his life.
***
Augustine was tapping his forearm impatiently.
“Come on, just answer the phone…”
The professor had almost given up on talking to Lysandre on the phone when the man finally picked up.
“Bonjour. Professor, I am quite busy at the moment. It’s lunch hour and the café is packed. Please make it brief.”
“Ah, bonjour, yes, yes, brief, yes, it’s just that, um, I mean. Uh. Are you going to the conference tomorrow?”
Lysandre sounded slightly irritated at the seemingly idle chatter:
“Yes, professor, didn’t we just discuss this last week? Of course I’m going to attend.”
“Ah, indeed we did, good. Very good. Are you going by car? Is there any chance you could pick me up from the lab on the way? Pretty please? If it’s not too long a detour? Sina and Dexio are out of town so you’re the only one I can ask.”
“Certainly, but isn’t the lab mere blocks away from the conference center? Why don’t you walk?”
“I would if I could, mon ami! The thing is that I just… Can’t. An extra-heavy Snorlax sat on my foot just yesterday and the doctor forbid me from walking for the next week… I can’t even take my dear Garchomp on a walk! She’s going to die of boredom before my foot heals!”
It wasn’t often Augustine heard Lysandre laugh, but apparently his pitifully one-legged state was amusing enough to earn a chuckle from the man. The soft chuckle soon turned into heartwarming laughter as Augustine tried to explain how exactly the foot-sitting had happened.
“Hey, shut it, you! Lysandre! Don’t laugh, this is a serious matter!”
The professor could practically hear the grin in Lysandre’s voice, but his tone was gentle:
“I will be in front of the lab at 9.30am. Please, do remain from injuring yourself any further until then. Now, I must get back to work. Goodbye, professor.”
***
Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it wasn’t, but somehow, Augustine found that he had the courage to say: “Kiss me goodbye,” when they were about to part ways at the lab.
To the surprise of both Augustine and the stray cat that was watching them from across the street, Lysandre leaned down to give him faire la bise, just like that, like it was nothing. However, this particular kiss was different from all the kisses before it and all the ones that came after, it was its own separate being, neither before nor after, it was the beginning.
Lysandre’s lips that had never touched Augustine before were touching his cheek right that moment, and they were so warm, so sweet, oh so sweet and all he had ever wanted. The lips lingered, staying close to his skin so Augustine could feel the warmth of his breath, and then came down to touch again when Lysandre placed another soft kiss on his cheek. As the sudden realization of the realness of the situation hit him, Augustine found himself kissing the perfect curve of Lysandre’s cheekbone, and placing another kiss by his beard, and a third, and a fourth, and so many more. Lysandre didn’t seem to mind. If anything, it was the opposite.
They kissed and kissed, and kept on kissing as their lips started to move towards those parts of the face that couldn’t be quite called cheek anymore. Daring, Augustine placed a careful kiss on the corner of Lysandre’s mouth, and felt the man smile against his lips. Lysandre brought his hand up to Augustine’s jaw and broke the almost-kiss by drawing his head back carefully. Augustine met his gaze shyly. Cheeks flushed and eyes bright with joy, Lysandre had the appearance of an overgrown schoolboy. Moments like this made Augustine remember that no matter how adult-like he seemed to be, Lysandre was actually younger than him, not even in his thirties yet.
“You might want to aim better, professor,” he whispered, smiling, and finally lips met lips.