Gilbert is your classic drifter boy. After his father caught him in bed with a schoolmate three years before, when he was seventeen years old, he's lived on his own as a thief and hustler. But he never steals from the houses of his clients - this to him is a point of honor.
He is nimble and skilled - he slips into empty houses during the night, meticulously sifts them - often finding the hideouts with gold and money (he is interested in nothing else) - then goes off undisturbed. He leaves no tracks, no fingerprints - nothing. He is able to detect the alarm systems and avoids apartments with such systems, so he never has troubles.
He is also on good terms with the other hustlers cruising like him behind the Foire. Even though he is not really a friend with anyone, he treats his colleagues in a likeable way and, being himself rather selective, often redirects his clients to one of his colleagues, especially one whom he knew needed more money.
He earns a rather good living, and owns a small apartment under the eaves of the Croix Rousse. He never takes his clients there, since he is jealous of his privacy and doesn't want to possibly find them randy behind his door.
To his neighbors he is a respectable worker doing the night shift. They appreciate that this young man doesn't take home girls, or hold parties, or listen to his stereo at full volume. He is likeable, and they treat him with courtesy. And he always greets them with a wide smile when they cross on the stairs.
Tonight, Gilbert decides to penetrate an apartment downtown. On the previous nights, while he hustled, he noticed that lights were always off. He tried to ring the bell at different times, but nobody answered. So, putting in his bag his picklock and the thin cotton gloves, he goes to work, clad in his black jeans, tennis shoes and shirt.
One 'o clock at night is the ideal time. The windows are always dark, and nobody answers when he rings the bell. He opens the entrance door on the street without any problem with the simple method of the credit card. He slips upstairs, silent like a cat. Here is the apartment door. He eavesdrops at the two doors of the neighbors - all is silent. He puts on his black gloves, goes near the door and bustles on the lock. It doesn't open at once, and he has some difficulty, but finally it gives way... turns, four light clicks and it is open. The second lock is easier - he opens it almost immediately... two turns then the spring. The door opens without any noise.
He slips inside and silently closes the door behind him. He takes his screened torch and starts to explore. He knows all the possible classic hideouts, and he will inspect all of them. The first fruits of his research end up in his working bag.
In the living room, photo portraits - an aged couple, a nineteen years old boy, beautiful to die for! "I would like to fuck with him," he thinks as he puts down the portrait. He thinks a little then he steals the picture, leaving there the silver frame. The parents' bedroom yields him some jewels. Then there's the son's room. He doesn't really hope to find much in there, possibly just some money.
He notices a possible hideout. He easily opens it and at the soft light of his torch he sees gay magazines and risqué pictures, some even with the boy whose photo he stole from the living room. Fucking prick! That boy is as beautiful as the sun AND he's gay! Gilbert is aroused. He replaces everything carefully and closes the hideout so that the boy's parents would not find it. Then he gets an idea - he takes from the boy's desk a pen and a slip of paper, and he writes in block letters: "I like you to die! I'd like making love with you. I stole just your picture in the living and the one with you naked here inside. I would like to steal you!"
He takes a nude picture of the boy, puts in its place the slip of paper, and again carefully closes the hideout. He now has just to sift the bathroom then he can leave. In the water tank he finds another plastic bag with some jewels - a very classic hideout. He smiles. He slips them all into his bag then goes back to the entrance. Behind the door he checks his watch - it took him three and one-half hours. He slowly opens the door and goes out, silently closing the door at his back.
Going downstairs, he arrives at the deserted street. He turns at the first alley and walks fast but without running. He opens his bag, puts inside his gloves, pulls out a red vest and puts it on over his black shirt. He also pulls out a green plastic rucksack, throws in it the bag, then puts it on his shoulders and resumes his way. He quietly goes up to the Croix Rousse. The air is fresh and pleasurable. A little after five he silently enters his apartment. On his kitchen table he empties his bag and does the inventory of the spoils - a little less than 2,400 francs, a couple handfuls of jewels he will sell as always to Jauffray, and the two pictures....
He admires them. That boy is really gorgeous.
He puts the money in his wallet - he will put a little at a time into his bank account. He puts the jewels in a cigar box and closes it with an elastic band. Then, the two pictures in his hand, he hits the bed. He undresses, shuts off the main light, lights the night table lamp, lies down, and looking at the pictures he gently gives himself pleasure, daydreaming about that splendid boy...
Jauffray removes the stones from their mountings and weighs the gold. Then he evaluates the stones one by one, and announces the price. Gilbert knows he can trust the man, so he doesn't refute. He nods in agreement, pockets the money, says good bye and goes to the bank. He deposits part of the sum. He made his monthly wage. Some more hustling then he is home and dry.
Gilbert is not able to pull out from his thoughts that beautiful boy whose room he had penetrated. The two pictures are near his bed, and he admires them each night before sleeping and each morning as he gets up. Contrary to his habits, he goes back to linger in the street of that apartment, to look at its windows. One evening he sees they are lightened - the family is back. Who knew when? They for sure noticed the theft... and the boy... did he read his note?
Gilbert feels his heart thundering. He knows that the boy's family name is Dufresne, but his name? He could have looked for his name in his belongings and his schoolbooks... He doesn't even know his name, but he knows he is gorgeous, and is not able to forget him. It's not that he wants to, really, on the contrary... If only he could meet him... He will have an advantage, for he knows that the boy is gay. But will the boy like him? Well, Gilbert knows he is handsome, but he's possibly not the boy's type. Maybe he loves older people. Maybe he already has a boyfriend. Who knows?
The hustler friends of Gilbert ask him what's up.
"Nothing..." he answers.
"For some time you've refused some morsels... but tell us, are you in love, by chance? A hustler like us cannot allow that to happen!"
"Don't be silly! Me? In love?" Gilbert laughs, but inside himself he is not so sure that he isn't.
He waylays the gate of the boy's house, hoping to see him. And in fact, one morning, he sees him coming out. The boy runs along Bellecour square, towards the Catho. A university student, then. He follows the boy without problems, as he doesn't suspect at all that he's being followed, and he never looks back. While the boy stops in front of the University gate, he passes him. And he is lucky, for he overhears a girl asking him, "Alain, did you bring me the book?"
"So, his name is Alain, and he is more beautiful in person than on the pictures. He has a smile to make your legs soft as wax. Evidently the girl is attracted to Alain, and evidently she doesn't know that he is not interested in girls," Gilbert thinks for a while then walks away. He would like to turn back, to look at him. He takes advantage of a shop window to stop, and pretending to look at it, he looks back towards the gate. Alain is no longer there - he went in.
He wants...no, NEEDS to know him, but he cannot just go in front of him and tell him... He has to find a way, a pretext. In the following days he continues to shadow him. Then, one day, he makes his decision - while Alain crosses Bellecour Square, Gilbert outflanks him so that he arrives at his side.
"Sorry, but... can you show me where is the Catho?" he asks him.
Alain smiles. "Yes, I'm going there. Are you going to matriculate?"
"No, I haven't the high school diploma... I just have to go nearby. Do you study there?"
"Yes..."
"What?"
"Literature."
"Ah, it must be interesting."
"It is... Here we are..."
"Thank you... Ah, my name is Gilbert."
"How do you do, I'm Alain... Well, bye," the boy says while shaking his hand - a good hold, agreeable.
Alain enters. Gilbert remains there spellbound, looking at him as he turns towards a staircase, then goes away. God, how much he likes that boy! That smile... that lean body he can admire on the nude picture... that handshake that made him feel a pleasure shudder... that beautiful voice... those eyes, frank and straight... He has to meet him again, to talk with him again.
For a couple of days he looks at him from far and follows him, but he doesn't have the courage to stop him again. Yet he feels more and more attracted to him. Then he catches a glimpse of him queuing inside a confectioner's shop. Gilbert enters.
"Oh, Alain!" he greets him with a smile.
"Hi... sorry, I don't remember..."
"Gilbert." the other says with a hint of sorrow - he hoped he did remember his name.
"Ah, yes. Sorry."
"Do you have to make a present?" Gilbert asks him.
"No, it's for me...they make fabulous chocolates here. Are you not of Lyon?"
"No, I have now lived here for three years."
"Ah... And after three years you still didn't know where the Catho is?"
"Well, you know..."
"May I help you?" the waitress asks to Alain.
"Two hundred grams of assorted pralines, thank you."
"Yes, monsieur Dufresne."
"She knows you? Do you come here often?" Gilbert asks him.
"Yes, for years...from when my parents started to give me some pocket money that I could spend in my way..."
"Here, monsieur Dufresne. Something else?" asks the waitress.
"No, thank you."
Gilbert also orders two hundred grams of assorted pralines. They pay at the register, then go out together.
"May I offer you a coffee?" Gilbert asks, feeling his heart thundering.
"I'm in a hurry, but... yes, thank you." he answers.
Gilbert is radiant.
"What do you do?" Alain asks him while they are seated at the bar.
"I work... night shift..."
"Ah, the night shift - time must never pass, in night time."
"Well, it depends..."
"Oh, it's late, I have to go. Thank you for the coffee, Gilbert. I'm glad I met you again."
"Yes... see you..." the boy says, caught somewhat unawares for the sudden departure of the other. He looks at him going out of the bar. Then he calls himself stupid - he could've offered him to accompany him, to do a piece of way together, just to talk with him some more, to be near him a little more, to enjoy his presence.
As the days go by, Gilbert feels more and more attracted to - and infatuated with - Alain. As a consequence, he unconsciously accepts fewer and fewer clients when he hustles. One late evening, he is lurking outside an apartment that had its lights off for several nights when he hears his name being called. He turns and sees Alain coming towards him. His heart starts to hammer.
"Hello Gilbert! Are you waiting for somebody?"
"Yes, but he hasn't come and I don't want to wait any more. How come you are in these parts?"
"I went for dinner to a schoolmate fellow's. What direction are you going, now?"
"Towards the City Hall..." Gilbert says, knowing that Alain's home in nearby.
"Oh, I live close to there. Can we walk together for a while?"
"Yes, sure."
They walk. "How old are you, Gilbert?"
"Twenty... and you?"
"One less..."
"Do you go to the discos at times?"
"Well... not so often... and you?"
"At times, me too."
"Right, you work during the night time..."
"And how do you amuse yourself?"
"I go to the movies, at times to theatre."
"With your friends?"
"No, mainly alone."
"I never went to theatre... but I like movies."
"What kind?"
"Well, excluding horror and those with too much violence... anything."
"The same for me. We should go together, sometime."
"Yes, with pleasure..."
"Did you see the last movie with Depardieu?"
"'Cyrano de Bergerac?' No, not yet...but I've heard it is great."
"If you feel like it, we can see the five 'o clock showing on Saturday afternoon."
"Very good."
"Then meet me at fifteen before five in front of the cinema. You know where they show it, right?"
"Yes, sure. I'll be there," Gilbert answers, silently rejoicing.
His first date with Alain... and it was he that invited Gilbert! "That's a good sign," he tells himself, "he likes being with me. Moreover, I didn't call him tonight, he called me..."
They say goodbye in front of Alain's house, after renewing their date. Gilbert quickly runs towards his own house, feeling merry. He recalls all they said, how Alain looked, talked, and smiled at him. He madly likes Alain, and he feels that Alain too likes him. He looks at the sky studded with stars and it seems wonderful to him - all seems more beautiful around him, in that sweet night of late Spring, even the old houses with the fronts somewhat flaking.
Saturday afternoon... Gilbert takes a shower, brushes his teeth, shaves with particular care, combs, and chooses something to wear (changing his mind several times). He checks his aspect in the mirror, keeping an eye on his watch, until he feels to be nice and sexy enough - not too brazenly provocative, but enough to attract the eye.
At four thirty he is already in front of the cinema. The appreciative glances of some passers-by, men and women, makes him understand that he chose the right attire, and he feels a sense of warmth in himself. He is not a narcissist, but he likes being admired, because he hopes to be admired by Alain too.
He waits around twenty minutes and he is already restless... Why he doesn't come? Can he have forgotten? Did he change his mind? Did something happen to him? Wait... here he comes!
Gilbert feels his heart beating faster. He has the impression that also Alain is dressed with more care, for him. He is more beautiful than ever. He approaches him with a wide smile.
"Hi, Gilbert, I'm a little late, sorry."
"No, no problem, it is not yet five."
"Let's go in." They take a seat.
"After the movie, do you feel like going to eat together? There is a small restaurant at the Homme du Roc...it is inexpensive and the kitchen is really good."
"Sure, Alain, with pleasure," Gilbert says, happy.
The lights gradually fade away, and the show begins. Gilbert from time to time furtively looks at Alain, who is intent looking at the screen - he has a perfect, beautiful profile. Gilbert would like to move his hand, to put it on the boy's thigh to make him understand he desires him, but strangely he doesn't find the courage. And yet, while he knows about Alain being gay, Alain doesn't know about him, and Gilbert had never been a shy person before.
Gilbert almost doesn't look at the movie. The other's proximity arouses him, and gives him a sense of warmth, of pleasure. He would like to touch him, or rather, to caress him, to kiss him. The first part ends, lights are on again in the hall.
"Great, isn't it? Depardieu is really great in this movie." Alain says with a big smile.
"Yes..." Gilbert answers deeply stirred, then pulls out a bag from his jacket, saying: "I bought some pralines, do you want some?"
"Wow... you know I'm mad for them, don't you?" he answers with a smile stretching his hand to take some, their hands slightly brushing against each other. Alain puts the pralines in his mouth, one by one, lets them melt a little then, with delighted expression, chews them. "Delicious..." he murmurs.
"Yes, really." Gilbert echoes as he eats them in the same way, imitating him. Alain takes one and puts it between Gilbert's lips. Gilbert quivers at this intimate gesture, and his lips brush against his companion's fingers - if he hadn't taken them away at once, he would have licked them...
During the second part, it is Gilbert who slips a praline between his companion's lips from time to time. Once he just makes the gesture, his fingers empty. Alain searches for the praline, first with his lips, then his tongue tip, lapping Gilbert's fingertips. He turns to look at him amused.
"You had me!" he whispers.
Gilbert answers with a cunning smile and lowers his fingers. Alain stretches his hand towards the pralines bag that Gilbert has on his lap, but stops on Gilbert's hand, which is holding the bag, almost caressing it. "You give them to me. I would like more..." he whispers.
Gilbert stirs up, takes one and puts it at Alain's lips. The boy takes it with his lips, but Gilbert doesn't move his fingers away. Alain laps at them lightly then suckles them as his hand squeezes Gilbert's other hand lightly. Gilbert pulls it off of the bag and turns it, their fingers intertwining. Gilbert lightly brushes Alain's lips with his other hand and the boy sweetly murmurs, "Oh, Gilbert, this is even better than the pralines..."
The movie is over, and the two youths separate just before the lights are on again.
Alain stands. "Did you like the movie?"
"Yes..." Gilbert, who almost didn't look at it, answers.
They go out. Alain talks about the movie while they go towards the Homme du Roc. Gilbert, lost in admiration, almost doesn't listen to him. They enter the small restaurant and Alain guides him to a slightly secluded table. He orders for both. They are sitting side by side. Gilbert feels Alain's leg brushing his own. He quivers then pushes his leg against the other's, lightly giving an answer to the pressure.
"I feel good with you, Gilbert," Alain says, putting his hand on his thigh, under the table, and lightly caressing it.
Gilbert quivers, puts his hand on the other's hand and caresses it. "I too," he answers happily.
The food is served, and the two youths bring their hands back to the tabletop to eat. But all of Gilbert's senses are stretched towards Alain, waiting for him to make another step, allowing him to understand even more clearly that he wants him. Meanwhile he enjoys his proximity.
The dish has now been eaten. While waiting for the cake, Alain again puts his hand on his companion's thigh and asks him, "Do you like it?"
Gilbert knows he is not talking about the food, but he answers, " Yes, very much. And now I am waiting for the cake."
"The cake?" Alain asks while his hand slips up towards Gilbert's swollen fly and lingers on it.
"Yes, exactly..." Gilbert says with a low voice, shuddering.
"You have a nice bag of tasty pralines hidden here..." Alain says with a cunning smile, lightly fingering the hard basket of his friend.
"And you are greedy for it, aren't you?"
"You are right..." his friend answers, licking his lips.
"It's all for you, if you want it."
"Surely! But later," Alain says as he pulls out his hand, for the waiter is coming.
They eat the cake and drink the coffee. Then Alain wants to pay for it all.
"Where are you taking me now?" Gilbert asks him, stirred up.
"To the Roseraie."
"Isn't it shut at this time?"
"Yes, but I know how to get in and we will be safe there," Alain says.