Chapter Text
“My workout routine?” Laurent laughs. “What makes you think I have ever stepped foot in a gym? I read books for a living.”
A few years after graduating with his degree in English Literature—only a year behind Damen with his own degree in Poli-Sci—Laurent was only 24 and already a published author with a rapidly growing internet following.
“In all honesty, Damen makes me go with him sometimes and I just do whatever he tells me. Which does not happen often, if you must know.”
He does weekly live sessions with his followers where they hang out, chat, and discuss their current reads and various book-related topics. It all started with just a few random live unboxings, but his followers liked hanging out with him so much he decided to make it a regular thing.
“Okay, next question…” Laurent squints at the chat, “Where did you and Damen meet?” His cheeks color faintly at the question, and he looks sheepishly down into his lap.
“Talking about me?” Damen calls from off-screen, and Laurent looks up and dramatically rolls his eyes, watching Damen as he comes to sit next to him on the floor in front of the coffee table where Laurent has his phone resting against his laptop.
“They always ask about you. You’re a crowd favorite.” Laurent tells him and Damen smiles brightly at the camera as he settles in next to him.
“Hi guys! How’s it goin’?” He greets, waving enthusiastically to the audience through Laurent's phone camera.
“They just asked how we met.” Laurent informs him, and Damen laughs loudly, his eyes crinkling around the edges.
“I love this story.” Damen says, smiling indulgently at his boyfriend.
“You love this story only because you think you were so smooth—“ Laurent sneers.
“I was! I swept you off your feet—“ Damen argues, his tone light and teasing.
Laurent hold up his hand, cutting him off, “No, Damen, you practically stalked me and told me you’d be my whole world— “
“I did not stalk you, I was just admiring you from a distance on a somewhat regular basis—“
“So you were watching me then—“
“Babe—“ Damen huffs, but Laurent cuts him off again.
“Do not ‘babe’ me right now Damen, I swear to god—“ He scowls, his eyebrows stitching together as they stare each other down.
“Hey, hey!” Damen laughs, grabbing Laurent’s wrists as he tries to shove him. “Let’s just tell them, yeah? Start at the beginning? How long do you have left?”
“There’s only thirty minutes left in this session, Damen.”
“Well then let’s just start now and we can pick it up next week.” Damen says, shrugging. "It could be a new segment."
“No. Do you honestly think I’m going to let you completely hijack my meticulously planned and organized weekly live sessions with my followers?” Laurent asks, staring blankly at him.
“Well, I'll need time to convince them that my version of the story is correct.” Damen replies, his expression serious.
Laurent frowns. “If you have to convince them, it only contradicts your validity.”
Damen leans in then, wrapping one arm around Laurent's shoulders and the other around his waist. “Shut up Laurent I’m trying to kiss you.” He plants one kiss into Laurent’s neck before Laurent attempts to wrestle him off.
“Aren’t you the PDA police? There are several hundred people watching us, unless you forgot?”
“You know, I just came out here to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.” Damen pouts playfully, pulling back, but keeping his hands on Laurent.
“You’re a child. Why do I tolerate you?” Laurent asks, and Damen smirks back at him.
“Because I’m your whole world and you love me, we’ve been over this.”
“You’re insufferable.” Laurent’s face breaks out into a grin, despite his steely exterior. “And we’ve ignored the chat for upwards of ten minutes. Let’s see what they have to say on the matter.”
Laurent leans forward and scrolls back up through the chat, pointedly ignoring the ‘you guys are so cute’ & ‘I could watch you two bicker all day’ comments.
“Seems as though they want us to do it.” Laurent says, frowning playfully. “This is all your fault, you know.”
“What!” Damen barks. “My fault? How?”
“Because if they hadn’t found your private Instagram, they wouldn’t even know you exist .” Laurent says, checking his nails nonchalantly.
Damen gapes, “Oh you’re gonna bring that up again? You couldn’t have kept me a secret forever! I go to all of your events!”
“No one would have known you were with me—“
“I’m your boyfriend! We live together!” Damen retorts and laughs loudly, rolling back against the couch with his laughter.
“Technicality,” Laurent shrugs, and it makes Damen laugh even harder.
“Alright, let's just tell them.” Damen says when he catches his breath. “I’m sure they’re dying to know and we’ve already killed several minutes.”
“Fine, where should we start?” Laurent asks. “The part where you watched me, or the part where you followed me home?”
“Laurent!”
———
4 years ago:
“That guy over there keeps looking at you. Do you know him?” Jord asks, coming up beside Laurent at the counter of the bookstore/coffee shop they both work at near campus.
“Who?” Laurent frowns, not lifting his eyes from the page of the book he’s busy reading.
“That guy. By the window. Dark hair?”
Laurent looks up, annoyed, to see that there is in fact a dark haired student by the window, with his laptop and textbooks spread ungracefully across one of the cafe tables, focusing a bit too intensely on his work. Laurent scowls, giving him a once over, and lets his gaze fall back to the page. “No, I don’t know him.” He says.
“Huh. Okay,” Jord replies, before continuing his count of the inventory.
In all the years that Laurent has worked at Delpha, he’d never noticed that particular student before. Irritated and unable to properly focus, Laurent shuts his book in a huff and sets it aside. His eyes find their way back over to the man with the dark hair, who now looks a bit more relaxed and concentrated. Laurent surely doesn’t notice the way the sun hits the man’s tanned skin through the glass, or how his dark curls look hand tousled and soft to the touch. And he certainly doesn’t allow himself to watch, stare even, as the mystery student bites the end of his pen in thought, or runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. Laurent definitely doesn’t lean forward, resting his chin on his fist, to get a better look.
“If I didn’t know better I’d say you’re drooling.” Jord says a few moments later, breaking Laurent out of his reverie.
“Pardon?” Laurent flushes, looking away and attempting to hide from Jord’s knowing expression.
Jord smirks, setting down his clipboard on the counter and resting his hip against it. “You’re not subtle.”
Laurent looks at Jord. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jord’s brow furrows. “Laurent do you--” He starts.
“Don’t even finish that question, Jord. Go dust the young adult romance section or something. Make yourself useful.” Laurent says.
“Oh, because you’re being so useful by staring at our customers.” Jord scowls.
Laurent smirks and crosses his arms. “I am being useful. Don’t you always tell me my job is to stand still and look pretty?” He replies.
Jord huffs a laugh and pushes away from the counter. “Alright asshole, have fun gawking at strangers.”
Laurent doesn’t respond as he watches Jord walk across the room and behind the shelves, out of sight and ear-shot. He sighs deeply, closing his eyes for a moment, with his elbows on the counter and his fingers on his temples, letting the ambient early evening sounds of the cafe wash over him. He reminds himself that he is not bothered by the stranger, despite the fact that he’s never seen him in this cafe before in the three years he’s worked there.
When he opens his eyes again, he finds that the dark-haired man is now looking right at him, as if he too, is something to be studied. Laurent straightens, raising an eyebrow, and the stranger’s gaze widens before he shakes his head and grins sheepishly. He turns his attention back to his work, and Laurent’s frown deepens as he wends his way into the stockroom of the bookstore in an attempt to calm the rising heat in his cheeks.
He paces the room for a few minutes before Jord enters the room behind him.
“What happened?” He asks, resting his clipboard against his chest.
“Nothing,” Laurent replies, waving him off. “I’m taking my break.”
“Oh, okay. Need me to cover the register?”
“Yes.” Laurent replies sharply, and Jord only nods once before setting his clipboard on the shelf and making his way out to the storefront.
Taking a deep breath, Laurent settles on top of one of the cardboard boxes still filled with copies, and rests his head back against the wall.
When his break is over and he returns to the front of the store, the dark-haired man is nowhere to be found.
“I know you probably don’t care, but the hot stranger you’re totally not looking for left about ten minutes ago.” Jord tells him as he meets him back at the register.
“You’re right,” Laurent replies, “I don’t care.”
Good riddance , he thinks.