DIFFERENT

3 -- Aphrodite

Dearest Readers, 

Our Princes are feelin' it, no ?  They seemed to have found each other in an uncertain world, and are finding love among the uncertainty.  But the world can be a cruel place, as Prince Larry already knows.  Have they found happiness together, or will fate deal another cruel blow ....

The next few days, weeks, were a blur.  A very happy, ecstatic blur.  Larry and Laurent saw each other as often as their schedules would allow, spending all their free time together.  Melissa was a distant memory, and his demeanor reflected the loss.  Hers, not his.  They took in all the usual touristy stuff, and the not so touristy.  They went to baseball games, smooshing hot dogs in each others faces, wowing the crowd on the Kiss Cam.  They ate at Katz's and Delmonico's, as traditional of New York eateries as you could get.  They ambled, hand in hand, along the embankments of the river, under the beautifully lit bridges at night, and found quiet, private cubbie holes to make out like horny teenagers.  They spent evenings at each of their apartment's, listening to music, cuddling up on the sofa watching movies, dancing, laughing, loving.   

And Larry accompanied Laurent to one of his workshops at the New York Dance Project, a dance studio where he had initiated a young choreographer's programme, aimed at helping talented, up and coming dancer's and choreographers not just get jobs in the city, but to garner the attention of the people that mattered most in the dance and arts world.  Larry was stunned by Laurent's talent, his patience and his gift, and not just as a dancer. He was just amazing with people.  He was sweet, kind, and his patience knew no end.   As the young dancers performed their pieces for him, Laurent would stop them every so often, adjust a head tilt here, an arm position there.  He would sit on the floor with the dancers and the choreographers, talking, laughing, giving them his invaluable advice, sharing his experiences.  As they left one such class, Laurent noticed Larry was quiet, subdued.  They walked for a while, then stopped where they were, mid sidewalk.  Laurent lifted Larry's face to look at him.

"Mon cheri, what is it ?  You look so sad.  My class was not that bad, was it ?"  he smiled, a small joke to try to lift Larry out of whatever funk it was that he was in.

"You were amazing in there, with those kids, I am in awe.  No really, I am in awe of you, Laurent"  Larry stepped closer to Laurent, foreheads touching, as they now so often did.  

"Thank you, but why are you so sad ?  This is not a bad thing ?  What, Larry, tell me, I worried now."  Laurent frowned, low key panic setting in that Larry was about to tell him something he didn't want to hear, a precursor to a goodbye.  He was waiting for the "But ....."  There was no "But.....", in fact it was the opposite.  

"I..... I feel ...... shit, I don't know how to explain it.   Can we go sit down somewhere, a bit more private ?"

"Of course, mon amour, you need to talk, yes ?"  Larry looked at him full in the face, head tilted slightly, trying desperately not to let the tears fall.

"Stop it !!  Why are you so nice to me, all the fucking time ..... I ..... shit !!"  Raging, desperate insecurity reared it's ugly head, taking Laurent by surprise.  But Larry wasn't finished,  "Why are you so nice to me .... so caring ......so damned good to me ..... I ...." tears were falling at an alarming rate down Larry's cheeks now, so Laurent guided him by his elbow to a seat outside a nearby coffee shop, sitting him down, handing him a tissue.  He went inside for a moment, to order them both a strong coffee.  When he returned, Larry was a little more composed.

"I'm sorry, Lau, I'm  just so ... so ...." He didn't how ....... so ..... he was.  He looked out at the street scene in front of him, gulping in a deep breath, then letting out a steadying one.  He carried on, Laurent looking at him intently, a worried expression on his face, not for the outcome of this conversation, but for the pain of whatever it was, was causing his love.