Too Little Too Late

Chapter Four - Wrong Side of Life

Chapter Four – Wrong Side of Life

October 2017

It was a cold Paris morning. It didn't help that Jean-Paul was hogging the duvet, and all Miles had to cover his naked body was the corner of it. He was so tired. He'd had about three hours sleep. Last night had been him and Jean-Paul's third date, and they'd gone to a notorious Parisian gay club called The Camel, so called because there used to be a stuffed camel in the middle of the floor. They'd come back to the apartment high on poppers and had fucked for hours before Miles fell into a fitful sleep.

He opened his eyes and the first thing that hit him was the bedside cabinet overflowing with condom wrappers, and the tube of lube that was dripping down the front of the drawers. It looked disgusting and Miles had to turn away from it.

Jean-Paul was still asleep. He was a model for the House of Lombardi. They were an Italian luxury sportwear band but they were based in Paris. Miles was working on a collaboration with them to design a tracksuit. He'd met Jean-Paul on one of their shoots, and they'd hit it off. Even though Miles' French was pretty bad, Jean-Paul's English was good enough for them to communicate. The sex was good, too. Jean-Paul liked it rough and that suited Miles. He couldn't bring himself to be tender with anyone. Not anymore. 'He' was the only person he could ever think about making love to.

He looked at his phone. It was Friday the thirteenth. The day he was meeting Alex. It would be the first time in five months that they had been in the same room. It wasn't a romantic meeting. Alex was recording the new album a few miles down the road in La Frette Studios and he had Arctic Monkeys business to discuss. They mainly spoke through their lawyers these days. They shared the same management, and Miles still got royalties from 505. He wasn't sure why Alex wanted to meet him, but the text had been friendly enough, if not a little cold.

Jean-Paul turned over, fixing Miles with his beautiful green eyes. He was gorgeous. One of those people who woke up still looking perfect.

"Bonjour," he smiled.

"Mornin'" Miles chuckled.

Jean-Paul gave a sleepy growl and moved closer to him.

"It's cold. I need someone to warm me up."

"Do you, now?" Miles felt a cold hand wrap around his dick, but it wasn't cold enough to get rid of his morning wood. Jean-Paul stroked him, making Miles even harder. He pushed him down onto his back and climbed upon him, straddling him. Jean-Paul looked up at him with a challenging look, wanting Miles to pin him down and fuck him again.

"You're an animal," Jean-Paul smiled. "A wild tiger."

"I like that," Miles said, grasping Jean-Paul's dark brown hair and pulling his head back so he could bite his neck. "It's better than being called a bunny."

Jean-Paul had left by the time Miles headed out to meet Alex. His apartment was in Montmartre, and it belonged to an employee of Lombardi who was currently working in the States. Miles loved the Bohemian vibe, and thought about maybe moving here permanently. He hated LA now. Without Alex at his side, it all seemed quite meaningless. He'd come to realise most of his friends were Alex's friends, and he often felt quite lonely. He missed Europe and he found himself dreading the end of the month when he had to go back to the US.

Even though he was meeting Alex in Sartre, a café-cum-bookshop in the centre of the district, he still wanted to look his best. He put on a black Armani suit and a white satin shirt, and typically, spent ages worrying about his hair. He still wasn't sure about the longer length, but he thought he'd grown it as an unconscious decision to make himself look as different to that person who'd been in The Last Shadow Puppets with Alex, last year. In the end he slicked it back, liking how sharp it made him look. Did he care about what Alex thought about him? Of course he did. That would never change.