Chapter with better formatting, in PDF file: http://xkyoux.wordpress.com/2012/05/09/story-about-boys-love/
*Author notes available at the beginning of chapter one*
Note from the translator:
This is not a word for word translation. So there will be words missing, or words added when comparing with the original. I gave my best not to change the contents, BUT sometimes I just had to. Of course you'll find mistakes in the text, so please instead of mocking my language skills, just sit back and enjoy a beautiful love story. I decided to try to translate it because I adore their story so much. It would be a pity for others not to be able to read it, especially since the artwork that goes with it is so beautiful. This piece took 4 hours to translate, so if you don't like the way it's done, please at least respect the work I've put into this. But, I really hope you'll like it as much as I do.
Note from the editor:
Thanks to the hard work of the lovely Anna, who translated this from Polish to English, all of us English speaking fans can enjoy this truly beautiful piece. I have simply gone in and done some formatting and tweaking (English and all it's damn rules!) to make it even easier to immerse yourself in the story. However, I would like to note that it is a conscious decision by the author to mix past and present tense and to use spacing for emphasis. These things are stylistic choices, not errors, so please don't leave comments about them.
He woke up with a heavy head. They didn't drink that much yesterday, definitely not enough to have a hangover.
Or maybe it was a culmination of the past three days. Or not enough sleep... or...
Yup. It definitely was what happened yesterday.
He put the kettle on, sat down in a chair, hooked his fingers behind his head and looked up to the ceiling, as if he could find a clue up there.
Unfortunately, he didn't get any brilliant ideas. And better still, he wanted a cigarette.
He grabbed the packet that lay on the fridge for the last couple of weeks. Reds. He liked them from time to time. They were sort of nicely scratchy at the back of his throat.
He lit it and took the first drag.
He rested his foot against the table, leaning back a little.
Dragged his hand through his red hair.
He was balancing on the edge.
He closed his eyes.
Yesterday... was good. Different. But he couldn't name it.
He felt something...
And... he wanted it.
He wanted more.
But what is it that he wanted?
He drew his brows tightly together.
"Could you not smoke in the kitchen, please?" the Blonde's voice ripped him from his reverie.
He jumped, losing his balance. Good ninja "reflexes" as Marcin would say, allowed him to catch his balance and prevented him from a fall.
"You could have killed me. Don't sneak on me like that," he said with a bit of resentment in his voice, but held a smile on his face at the same time. His hand was holding on to the table.
He looked at the Blonde. His face indifferent, or maybe annoyed. Nivan looked him over.
The Blonde was still in those boxer shorts and Redhead's big hoodie. His hands were resting loosely and the sleeves covered his palms. His hair was in total disarray and he looked tired, as if he hadn't slept well.
The Redhead's brows lifted a bit and he smiled a barely noticeable smile, seeing his morning ensemble.
"I was standing here for nearly a minute. Your ninja instinct is failing you," the Blonde answered.
He was lost to himself completely at that moment.
But wait a sec, what has he been doing here for a whole minute?
"A minute? What have you been doing in the doorway for a minute?" the Redhead asked with amusement, looking up at him. Then he ashed into a Chinese take out box.
Marcin realized how stupid what he said sounded, but he was too tired to care. He was staring at him. Just like that. And he wasn't in an explaining mood.
"I was jerking off," he said with the same indifference in his face. He snatched the cigarette from his hand, took a drag, and sat his ass in a chair next to the Redhead. With a tired look he began to stare a hole in the table. "Pity you didn't see it."
"You were wanking you say... while looking at me?" he asked, smiling with the corner of his mouth. He took the cigarette from him.
The Blonde looked at him without moving his head with a 'for real?' on his face.
The Redhead, wanting to annoy him a bit added, "You know, since you wanted to kiss me yesterday, but then ran away. I have the right to assume that..."
"Don't you dare finish that," he pointed his long finger at him, and looked at him with a menacing stare, "I was drunk."
The smile on the Redheads face faded. He already knew today there would be no fooling around. That the good time ended yesterday, together with the kiss attempt. That the Blonde was not making fun of it. That he is mad at him again. That again, he is...
That he was running away again.
There was a problem and he was bloody running away.
As usual, fuck.
Something woke up in him.
Something unpleasant, that he couldn't stop anymore. Something hurt inside. Just like in the past.
"Yeah... drunk... sure..." the Redhead said ironically. "Look at what alcohol does to you. You wanted to kiss an idiot, who did the same to you in the past. Wait, wait... what was your response back then? Oh. Yes."
He put his face directly in front of his, very close and looked straight into his eyes. "You ran away. As usual."
Then he stepped back, smoked the rest of the fag and put it out in the food box. The Blonde was silent, looking ahead through the window. The Redhead watched his profile intently, propping his feet at the edge of the table. He crossed his arms over his chest. The silent routine really irked him.
"Will you say something?"
The Blonde moved his eyes toward him, still saying nothing, with the same expression on his face.
"Great. Just as usual. Now you could start avoiding me and we would be again at square one, just like in the past."
"What the fuck do you want from me?" demanded the Blonde slowly and very clearly.
The Redhead smiled a wide smile. And it wasn't a pleasant one. Something inside him exploded.
"What do I want from you?! The question is what do you want? Because I totally do not understand you anymore."
"You don't have to. And if you're not comfortable with it then just forget what happened. I mean what didn't even happen. You'll just create unnecessary problems here."
The Redhead couldn't believe his own ears.
"Marcin, I'm not an idiot whom you can gloss over with your 'I did something stupid but it's not important' attitude."
"And what the fuck do you want me to say? You're blowing it out of proportion, chill man."
The Redhead stared for a moment. He lost his smile, because it really wasn't funny anymore.
He didn't like the way he was treated, and the way he was dismissed.
He didn't deserve it.
He thought a lot about what he had done. OK, fine, he kissed the guy... when he probably wasn't ready for it. But that was a thousand years ago... just, how long could you dwell on something like that?
Although... he felt something similar, didn't he? Still. Because Marcin, based on one stupid move, threw whole friendship away. And now because of his behaviour he wouldn't let it mend. He was so irritated with that.
"OK, you don't want to talk about it, then I will tell you what I think," said the Redhead, anger building up fast in him. "Because you see, we meet up after years. You pretend not to know me. And when you finally decide that you do, you constantly stab me with a knife in my back or walk around mad at me. Then you start seeing Nathan. Sure, why the hell not, if not for the fact that you come to me in the middle of the night to sleep next to me, not even asking permission. You know, I'd like to have such a jerk myself. One that I could piss on, and then whenever I feel like it, realize that he's not that bad after all since he lets me stay in his bed."
The Blonde was only staring with the same dispassionate look on his face.
The Redhead seeing no reaction from him continued, "Yesterday's reaction I don't get either, because back then when I kissed you, you were mad beyond comprehension. And you left me to regret it for fucking ages. So, I don't know. And yesterday a revelation suddenly hit you? And if not, then please tell me, what the fuck is going on, because I really don't understand anything anymore."
He was angry, and his anger kept growing with every spoken word. The Blonde was looking at him with his brows drawn together. But he was still silent and that angered the Redhead even more.
"You know what the best in all this is? Back then, a thousand years ago, I thought that I don't know, maybe, you felt disgusted by me. Because it looked like it. Because your first kiss was stolen by a guy, not by a long-legged-blonde-girl. But guess what, Marcin is as gay as me, or even more." The Redhead smiled an ironic smile. "So maybe you could explain it all to me? You turning over a new leaf or something? Or maybe in addition to all that you're getting hard when you look at me? "
Nivan felt a burning pain on his face.
It was a reward for what he said.
He didn't look at him.
He was scared he would explode.
"You have no idea, you have no fucking idea, do you?" The Blonde asked, suppressing his anger. He stood there, the hand that he hit him with shaking. He didn't know how to finish that sentence.
His words hurt.
He wanted to run away, shut himself away in his room. As usual.
The Redhead looked at him.
He didn't get mad, quite the opposite.
He was scared. Surprised even.
Because he saw him for the first time in that kind of state.
Torn, falling apart. With glossy eyes and a shaking hand. He forgot all he said. Forgot he was mad.
Nivan got up. Moved closer to him.
Taking the back of his head in his hand, he pulled him to his chest.
He didn't know what else he could do at the moment.
The Blonde didn't fight him. He rested his forehead on the Redheads shoulder, squeezing his tee-shirt tightly in his fists.
He realized how much he wanted to stay like that.
How he needed him to be here. Even when he was saying all those things... even if had no idea...
How much he didn't want to hear those thoughts...
"You want a brew?" the Redhead asked gently, trying to lift the mood a bit. Wanting to believe that the drink had the force of the saving grace.
"I do..." The Redhead wanted to move but the Blonde held him back successfully, "...but in a moment."
With a lazy move he wrapped his arm around the Redhead's neck, cuddling up closer to him. The Redhead's brows shot up and he smiled with the corner of his lips.
"How am I supposed to understand you?" He hits first and then he wants a cuddle.
"Oh shut up, will you," he said smiling a bit bitterly, a bit sad. He closed his eyes, wanting just to simply be for a minute. Be and not think.
The Redhead snaked his arm around his waist, rested his cheek on the top of his head, and closed his eyes for a moment.
We shared a brew and breakfast.
Just like in the olden days. As if nothing happened.
That morning none of our problems got solved, actually there was even more confusion than before. And we were playing this "nothing happened" game of his again.
I decided not to ask questions anymore.
He needed to come forward on his own. Of his own volition.
Without me trying, without stupid sneak ups or provocation.
I all took a lot of time. True.
But it also took me a lot of time putting the puzzle together and accepting pieces from him - the ones which I thought were lost, but that he was carrying around with him the whole time.
I was surprised myself how many emotions that talk woke up in me. That I felt this sorrow and anger.
That I wasn't that indifferent to this situation.
I said what was on my mind. And I knew it hurt him. Very badly.
I knew that he closed in on himself because of what I said, again. Because he didn't see the sense in explaining himself to me.
We both weren't aware that that day something surfaced in me too.
I looked at him differently from that moment on. All of a sudden I was interested in what he did, in what kind of decisions he made.
And I simply waited.
Supporting him every time he fell.