Bienvenue � la France, la Ville d'Amour

Mikami Teru's college was sending him and his classmates to Paris, France for a business convention on forensic psychology and how it plays in the cases and the courtrooms. They would be meeting with important professors, doctors, and psychologists during those days. There were twenty-eight of them in all, but only thirteen had enough money to afford it, Mikami being one of the thirteen. He had never been to France before, but he did not appear to be as thrilled as the others. He had no qualms about seeing the Eiffel Tower or the Arcde Triomphe; he might see the Cathedrale Notre-Dame de Paris, but even that would be 'if' he felt like it.

His hotel room was stationed with everybody else. They drew straws to pick roommates, and lucky Teru got the sloppiest fellow. The man wanted to find the nearest bar, get wasted, and pick up chicks. How delightful. Throughout the first day, Teru had to put up with elbow nudges and sexist comments such as "I'd hit that". And he was tired of being referred to as "Dude" or "Bro". He took careful notes on the first day because he knew most of it would be repeated the next, giving him an opportunity to day-dream. His classmates went off to the bars to get, as they so eloquently stated, "fucking plastered". Teru on the other hand, remained at the hotel and decided to dine at the restaurant that was on the same floor as the lobby. There were only a few people inside. Mostly touring couples snuggled together under candlelight. Not wanting to be in the center of the romantic circle, he chose the bar but did not order any alcohol.

It was then he was accompanied by a man wearing blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and disheveled black hair. Like Teru, he did not order alcohol but black tea. Teru ignored him at first, but it was near impossible for some unbeknown reason. He ordered a piece of cake that Mikami would have trouble pronouncing. The piece was as thick as his fist and filled with creme, fruit, and a soft vanilla sponge cake. He must have been staring because he caught the other man's eye.

"Ce gâteau est délicieux," he said, taking another bite.

Je n'aime pas de gâteau," Mikami answered, choosing his words carefully; he was not very fluent in French, yet.

The man smiled a cat-like smile at him, and Teru realized he was quite cute. "You're not from around here," he said in Japanese, "Your accent gives it away. Kanto region, correct?"

"Uh, yes," he answered, "So you speak Japanese, too?" The man nodded. Teru smiled and fiddled with his napkin. "That makes it easier for me."

"Are you here for the convention?" Teru nodded. "And how are you enjoying your stay Paris?"

"I haven't been able to do much," he said, "Sight-seeing alone isn't quite as nice."

The man cocked his head slightly. "Are you alone?"

"No, my classmates are with me, but we are hard to get along."

"I see."

Teru looked at him and smiled, noticing he had finished his cake and was licking the remnants off his fingers. "I'm Mikami," he said.

"Marcel," he said and shook Mikami's hand. "Tell me about yourself, Mikami-san."

And so Teru did. He told Marcel about his home in Tokyo, Japan and attending law school. He spoke freely about his childhood, including the bullies and his mother. He even talked about Light, his current boyfriend whom he had an argument with before he departed for France.

"It wasn't an actual argument," Mikami said, fidgeting again with his napkin, "It takes two people to be in an argument. Light gets frustrated a lot, is all. He works very hard."

Mikami, a naturally closed person, was quite surprised at how easily he was able to talk to Marcel, and Marcel listened. The words flowed so easily, and he seemed to be truly listening. Unfortunately, the night had to end. Upon realizing how late it was, Teru said goodbye and left the restaurant. He felt more comfortable now, as if he had released a heavy load off his chest; perhaps that was all he needed, a way to vent out. He mentally thanked Marcel for being such a good listener, and perhaps they would meet again before he left.

And they did.

The next day, Teru came down to the restaurant again, and there sat Marcel in the same seat as before. Needless to say, Mikami felt quite pleased to see him wave him over. They ordered their food--cake for Marcel again--and Teru told him more and more than he had ever told anybody so quickly. They talked about the books they've read and about law, of course. Marcel was quite intelligent, but 'quite' was not giving him enough credit. His ideals and philosophy reminded him of Light's, so strong and passionate. They even debated over some of their opinions, and it was entertaining. When he spent his time with Marcel, he felt much more relaxed. He could even put up with his roommate's hogging of the shower and leaving beer cans lying about. After he attended the morning convention, he would spend the rest of the day, sitting at the bar, talking with Marcel.

But something began to happen. He knew he only had two days left in France. Did he really wanted to spend all his time with one man?

Yes, he did actually. But while he listened to Marcel talk, he was becoming aware of one fact that was slowly rising; he was becoming infatuated with the man. Marcel was not as open as Mikami had been, but did that really matter? Most likely, they would never see each other again. It was sad, really. He was really starting to like the guy.

"Tomorrow is your last day here, isn't it?" Marcel asked, stirring his tea that was currently drowning who knows how many sugar cubes.

"Yes," Mikami answered, frowning into his cup, "I'll be leaving early tomorrow. I probably won't get to see you."

"Hmm." Marcel stood up from his seat. "It wouldn't be right for you to have only memories of this restaurant, Mikami-san," he said and grabbed Teru's hand, "Let's have a change of scenery, shall we?"

He led him to the elevator and to the floor, then to a staircase for the room. They ignored the 'Aucune Entrée' sign. They stepped out onto the rooftop. Cool, crisp air made Teru shiver. It was evening and the sky was alight with colors of pink, blue, and orange as the sun was about to set. Marcel walked out to the edge where only a foot high slab of concrete stopped him from falling to his doom. He looked back at Mikami, the sun's rays delicately out-lining his features.

He held his hand out. "Mikami-san, you must see this. Paris is very beautiful."

Though he was an acrophobic, he took a step closer and looked over the edge at the city. It was indeed beautiful, but after his vision began to spin, he had seen enough. Besides, Marcel was beautiful enough to look at in his own unique, and slightly odd, way. He was barefoot and Teru could only think of the germs he was getting... Then Marcel took a step on the slab of concrete so he was standing on the edge.

"Hey!" Teru cried out, "Don't do that! You could fall!"

Marcel blinked at him, then took a step back down to safe ground. "Were you worried I was going to fall, Mikami-san?" He walked over to the taller man. "You must like to look out for people. Thank you." He rose on his toes and kissed Teru on the cheek.

And then they were lip-locked. One of Mikami's arms pulled Marcel in by the waist, another hand on his cheek. Marcel's hands clenched at his sleeves while his head slightly cocked, giving more room for Teru's lips. A pink tongue coursed its way into the thinner man's mouth; Marcel sucked on it like a piece of candy with saliva dribbling from the side of his mouth.

"Mmmm!" Marcel moaned against Mikami's mouth when his tongue was gently bitten down on. Their hips ground painfully against the other with their crotches rubbing against the others thigh. Mikami gripped his bum, pulling him more closer. Heat pooled between their legs, causing their jeans to fit uncomfortably tight. Then Mikami's teeth nipped at his jaw, neckline, and throat. "Mmm, Mikami-san."

It was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. He had a boyfriend back home, but Marcel's body was too inviting and the angel on his shoulder had failed to show up. One of his hands went up inside Marcel's shirt and lifted the fabric up higher. His nipples were already perky from the chill. He took one of the pink buds in his mouth, sucking on it and lapping at it with his tongue.

"Hnn!" Marcel flinched, "We can't do that here."

It wasn't that he ignored him, but he did not want to stop. Why not here? No one would come up. His other hand dipped behind Marcel and into his trousers where he gripped firmly at the cooled tush.

"Mikami-san. Let's go downstairs."

Finally Teru lifted his head, letting go of the nipple in his mouth with a small pop. "But my roommate will be there soon."

Marcel smiled at him. "I have a room that is currently empty and is not expecting any others besides myself."

Teru smiled and the two went back inside the heated building. He followed the smaller male back into the elevator before he became impatient and began nibbling on the raven-head's ear lobe. His hand touched the front of Marcel's pants. "You're hard," he whispered in his ear.

Spidery fingers groped his crotch. "As are you."

He would have taken the man right there if the doors had not opened to the floor Marcel pressed. He followed him down the hall and into one of the rooms. It was just like Mikami's only with one bed. As soon as the door was shut, he spun Marcel around and kissed him again, knocking him against the wall. More tongues lapping and saliva swishing between their mouths. The shorter male moaned, lips vibrating against Teru's.

Mikami was aware that his hands were cold and cold fingers did not feel good on skin. He grabbed the white cotton fabric of his -partner? lover?- shirt and used it to warm them up, then he pulled it over his head. He was thin, as he saw on the rooftop. More kisses down his chest and he sucked on the nipple he had earlier neglected.

"Hnnn," Marcel moaned again, "Mikami-san, I should tell you I don't have any lubricant."

"It's okay," he said, unbuttoning his jeans. There was no underwear underneath. "I'll make you wet." He took out the man's cock, still mostly soft and stroked it gently. The sounds of Marcel's moaning made him more aroused. He pressed his lips against the base and nibbled the foreskin. He worked it with his tongue, leaving a trail up to the head. His hand still stroked shaft as his lips circled the head. His tongue licked the slit, tasting the precome that began to ooze. He licked down the vein to the his balls and took one of the testicles into his mouth.

"Ah!...Oh!" Marcel panted. He spread his legs wider for more access. As Teru licked his perineum, he stroked his own cock. The clear juice was wetting his hand, acting as its own lubricant. He clenched when he felt Teru's hot, wet muscle against his opening, but cold finger spread him apart. Mikami rearranged himself so he was behind Marcel now. His tongue darted inside him while his thumbs spread his cheeks apart for better access.

"Mikami-san," the French man gasped, "It feels...odd...Cela se... sent étrange."

But Teru continued. His fingers coated themselves with the pearly precome and swirled and coated his puckered entrance. Marcel licked his lips and grabbed hold of the vanity to keep himself upright. "Hah...ha...hah..."

A long finger pushed inside him. Marcel moaned. The finger worked him, exploring his insides and digging deeper. Then another one. He grabbed the vanity dresser with both hands to keep himself from falling over. "Ah...hah...Mikami-...san..." He swallowed and saw his silhouette in the mirror. Was this was Mikami liked? Doing it in front of a mirror? And had he done it before or was this a way for him to explore new territory? It was still dark so his features were not very distinct.

"Ah. Ah. Hah." Saliva dripped from his mouth and dribbled down his chin. And then Mikami pushed into him. "NNNNGGGGG!"

Oh, Marcel felt so warm and tight inside. He wasn't properly lubed, but he couldn't wait anymore. So hot...

"Does it hurt too much?" he whispered.

Marcel panted and swallowed his drool. "Only a little," he answered, "Keep going."

He moved against him, hips moving steadily and slowly. God, it felt so good. Teru lifted up Marcel's leg from under the knee as he continued to thrust in and out of the man while his other hand held him steady at his hips. Marcel gripped the dresser with both hands and moaned with each thrust. His hair stuck to his forehead.

"Mmmnnn," he moaned, "Good...so good...Yes..." He removed one of his hands from gripping the dresser and began to pump his own cock in tune with Teru's thrusts. His back arched and moved with each thrust inside him.

"Oh! Oooooh! Marcel cried out as his hips violently jerked. His orgasm screwed his eyes closed and his seed shot out in spurts. It hit the drawers and even the mirror. Teru pulled out of him so he would not cum inside him; it was hard to get it all out, he knew from experience. Marcel was still panting, and he looked quite beautiful.

They did it more times throughout the night. Against the sliding glass doors that led out to the balcony. Marcel's back was against the cold glass with both arms wrapped around Mikami's neck. One leg was wrapped around Teru's waist and other was on its toes, keeping him up. His cock rubbed against their stomachs. And then he threw his head back and dry-came, having nothing left in him, only a clear substance.

They did it in the shower as they cleaned themselves off. Their bodies were starting to become exhausted so it mostly consisted of making out with lazy tongues while they stroked each other.

Ironically, the bed was only used when they were too tired to continue and fell asleep. Mikami didn't see Marcel in the morning. Instead, he awoke to an empty bed and only twenty minutes to find his classmates. On the plane, he listened to his roommate's stories and questions about why he didn't return to the hotel room. Teru never told him why. He remembered Marcel very clearly even when he returned to Japan and to his lover.

Months passed and Marcel was never seen. Their one night together was all but a memory in Teru's mind. Routine went back to normal. Light began complaining about a detective that was known world-wide: L. Mikami knew who L was as he had looked over cases that L involved himself in.Apparently L was also invited to work on a case that Light was working on, which displeased him. To make his boyfriend feel better, one day Mikami decided to take him out to dinner. After returning from the bathroom, he saw Light talking with a man with raven black hair. He could not see the man's face but he could tell Light was wearing a false friendly smile.

He noticed Mikami and stood up. "Teru, I want you to meet someone. This is Ryuuzaki. He's helping us with the investigation. Ryuuzaki, this is Mikami Teru."

The man turned around and smiled a cat-like smile. "Hello, Mikami-san. It's nice to meet you." He shook Teru's hand.

Teru did not say anything but looked at him dumbly. Light said it was Ryuuzaki, but... he was shaking Marcel's hand. He remembered him distinctly. He even knew exactly who was working with Light, and there was no Ryuuzaki. Which only meant...

Ryuuzaki was Marcel.

Marcel was L.

Mikami fucked L.