Chapter Text
Laurent rakes his fingers through Damen’s curls absentmindedly, twirling the locks around his fingers, breathing in Damen’s cologne from last night. He’ll wake up any minute, hungover and whining, and Laurent will give him shit for getting so unspeakably plastered the night before. Then he’ll grab Damen a glass of water and some Aspirin from the bathroom, maybe he’ll even face Damen’s frat brothers downstairs to make a simple breakfast if Damen is sweet enough — Laurent knows he will be.
It’s the first night he’s just laid in the aftermath of their lovemaking — no rushing to the bathroom the moment Damen comes down from orgasm, no redressing himself quickly to hide his body away again. He just fell asleep in his sweet, stupid, adorably annoying boyfriend’s arms after sex so emotional, Laurent can’t believe Damen had been able to make him feel that way intoxicated.
Laurent had never even allowed Damen to do more than kiss him while drunk until recently. Last night, as they danced to bad music in the living room, Damen wearing that stupidly big grin on his face and picking him up without stumbling for a single second to kiss him hard, Laurent didn’t feel any of the anxiety he thought he would.
He thought the smell of liquor on his lover’s breath would bring up too many bad memories if he allowed it in the bedroom. He thought he would feel anxious and afraid, that Damen, as gentle as he is, might be too rough if he was too drunk to control himself. But he wasn’t. Damen was just… Damen.
He’d taken Laurent upstairs and fallen onto his bed to pull Laurent on top of him rather than pinning him down, mumbling corny praises as he kissed down his neck. Even drunk, Damen remembered his comfort. He left his hands to the side until Laurent allowed him to touch and Laurent realized he felt perfectly safe. Damen was an adorable drunk, not an angry one. He fucked Laurent slowly and deeply, kissing him all over, telling him how beautiful he was.
Laurent thought he was going to burn right through the mattress, Damen’s words made him blush so fiercely. But it had all felt good. It had felt so good.
Laurent is glad Damen waited for him. Waited for him when they first met in an international affairs intro class and Laurent had rolled his eyes at his every question. Waited for him while he resisted Damen’s well meaning friendship over and over again. Waited for him when Laurent finally agreed to go out on a date with him, but wouldn’t allow himself to be kissed until Damen took him out on another and another.
They had waited ten months out of a year long relationship to have sex. It was something unspeakable to do in college, let alone for someone like Damen - a star athlete and a fraternity brother. But Damen has never pressured him and when his unwavering kindness and understanding had broken through Laurent’s very last wall, he listened to every word he said. He listened when Laurent told him what his uncle did, how he pays his own way through school and never returns home to avoid him in his life again. He listened when Laurent blubbered apology after apology for not having sex with him and Damen had only hugged him close and told him he didn’t need to apologize.
When they had sex for the first time — real sex, allowing Damen inside of him for the very first time — Laurent learned what love making was. It wasn’t painful or frightening, it was warm and soft and deep all at once, the only time he could remember where for just a moment, he’d stopped thinking entirely. When they talked after, Damen promised to keep their intimacy between them.
Of course, Laurent’s reputation was a cold bitchy twink with a filthy mouth, but a stick up his ass. They had been together long enough, that Damen’s close friends knew the description wasn’t entirely true, but Laurent would shrivel up and die if people knew he’d made Damen wait ten months to fuck. If anyone knew why, he wouldn’t recover. There’s never been a single other person but Damen that Laurent’s allowed willfully into his bed.
He hadn’t exactly made that part clear to Damen. He had only assured him that he wasn’t a virgin, that he knew what he was doing — both true, but Laurent only said them because he didn’t want Damen to think he was made of glass.
It had taken a year to cultivate this trust between them. A trust that allows Damen to wake Laurent in the night when he has night terrors, gut wrenching flashbacks of his abuse, and Laurent doesn’t kick him out or run away from him. Damen holds him, talks to him, strokes his hair until he stops shaking. Laurent lives alone in an apartment a few blocks down, no roommates as he’d feared being heard talking, or screaming on occasion, in his sleep.
Damen is the only one. He’s the only one Laurent has let in, physically and emotionally. He’s the only person Laurent can be himself with.
So now, looking at his sleeping boyfriend nearly drooling onto his chest, Laurent’s chest feels warm. He breathes in tandem with Damen’s heartbeat and strokes his back just to enjoy the smooth skin against his own. He isn’t even bothered by the sticky feeling between them from last night’s activities, or the soreness between his legs. He’s just content.
Damen grants Laurent a few more easy minutes of watching him sleep before he begins to stir, slowly blinking his eyes open and beginning to look around the room. He grimaces at first, the sunlight from the window exacerbating what Laurent can imagine is a blinding headache, before he looks up at Laurent and smiles. “Hey.”
“Good morning.” Laurent laughs a little. “I’m glad you’re up, I was starting to worry you’d gone comatose.”
“Mm, not quite but close to it.” Damen grumbles as he settles into Laurent’s chest again. “I could stay in bed all day.”
“Not if you want a certain someone to nurse your hangover.” Laurent says, giving Damen a kiss on the top of his head before he carefully untangles himself. He crinkles his nose at the mess between them and the stained sheets for a moment before heading to the bathroom, pouring a glass of water and grabbing two pills from the medicine cabinet to bring to Damen.
“Here.” He says, handing both to Damen and watching him swallow them down. “I’m getting in the shower if you want to join me.”
“Shower sounds good.” Damen nods, groaning as he stretches his arms out and forces himself up out of bed.
Laurent turns to head for the bathroom again, but two arms wrap around his waist and pull him back, Damen squeezing him tight from behind. “Yes?” He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head back to peer at the taller man. “If you think sex is in the picture right now, I’m afraid your cock last night has left me in no shape for round two.”
“Aw.” Damen pouts, sliding one hand down to cup Laurent’s ass. “I’m sorry. Was I rough at all last night? I wasn’t so drunk that I don’t remember anything, but I want to make sure.”
“You weren’t too rough.” Laurent assures him, pulling out of his arms to continue his journey towards the shower and a body free of Damen’s come on (and unfortunately in) it. “Last night was… good.” He blushes when he slides the glass door back and reaches into the stall to turn on the hot water. “I had fun.”
“I’m glad.” Damen smiles, coming up just to kiss Laurent’s cheek before he turns to the sink to brush his teeth. Laurent isn’t usually a big fan of his morning breath. “I think people were surprised to see you dance last night.”
“Why, because I’m good?” Laurent smirks although he knows perfectly well why it might have been a spectacle. “Well even this ice queen had to let loose once in a while. Finals are getting too close to comfort.”
“Don’t mention finals until this hangover passes.” Damen grimaces before stepping into the shower as well and reaching for the shampoo. “Head back.”
Laurent rolls his eyes but obeys, tipping his head back under the running water to soak his hair. He sighs at the heat, already feeling his skin begin to run clean as well. He won’t admit it, but he doesn’t quite need to. Damen does it anyway when he protests, but he loves having his hair touched and consequentially, adores when Damen washes it for him.
Damen keeps Laurent’s hair products in his shower — a special shampoo for wavy blonde hair that helps keep it shiny, a conditioner that keeps it from frizzing during a day of walking around campus. He lathers his hands and massages Laurent’s scalp to work in the shampoo, kissing water droplets off his neck as he goes.
Laurent used to stifle his reactions a little more, but now he lets himself sigh in pleasure as Damen’s strong hands work through his hair with a gentleness.
Damen works on his hair far longer than necessary before instructing Laurent to lean his head back and thoroughly rinsing all of the suds from it.
“Back up.”
“Damen, you really don’t have to-“
“Oh, I want to.” Damen laughs as he takes the conditioner and repeats the process, massaging every sensitive inch of Laurent’s head before stepping around to stand in front of him, kissing him and roaming his hands up and down Laurent’s sides as the conditioner sets in.
Damen washes his own hair as Laurent rinses out the conditioner and gives a half assed pass over himself with the soap bar while Laurent is still halfway through washing himself.
“You take your time in here, I’m going to go make some coffee downstairs.” Damen says, planting a kiss on the tip of Laurent’s nose before sliding the shower door back again.
“Are you sure?” Laurent frowns. Damen’s the one who’s hungover, he should be fetching him coffee.
“Yeah, I want to catch up with the guys and see how they all spent the night.” Damen chuckles, grabbing a towel from the metal bar beside the shower and rubbing it back and forth over his hair before dabbing his body dry. “I’ll bring a cup up for you.”
“Thanks.” Laurent says, honestly. He knows Damen will bring it exactly how he likes.
He takes his time in the shower, washing himself until he’s completely clean. He knows when he smells good, Damen likes to hug him close and kiss up his neck too, so he’s not complaining about the extra time spent making himself presentable.
Out of the shower, he takes a little more time to dry himself thoroughly, blow drying his hair enough that it’s just damp and not completely soaked.
Laurent pokes his head out of the bathroom, expecting to see Damen reclining on the bed with a cup of coffee, but he isn’t there. Whatever his friends got up to last night must have been interesting, so he takes the blue silk robe he keeps stashed away in Damen’s dresser for moments such as these and ties the sash tight around his waist to head downstairs and see for himself.
He’s two steps down the staircase, just out of sight of the kitchen when he hears his name and pauses.
“Come on, Damen. You’ve held out on us for a year, everyone’s dying.” Nikandros groans from the kitchen’s direction. “I know he’s actually pretty chill when he’s around you but you’re dating the Ice Queen, what the hell does he do in bed that has you wrapped around his finger?”
“He has to be porn star level good, the way he talks.” Makedon adds on. “Seriously, him dancing last night? Every girl and gay dude in the room was looking at his ass, you can’t keep holding out on us, what’s his deal?”
Laurent’s chest tightens, his face heating up as he thinks to last night. He was just trying to have fun with Damen… was he really that much of a pariah? Did he embarrass himself?
“I told you guys, he’s just really sweet in private. That’s all.” Damen says and Laurent lets out a breath of relief. He didn’t necessarily expect a different response, he trusts Damen after all, but it’s horribly anxiety inducing to listen to him be interrogated about his sex life. Is Laurent really such a subject of interest? It’s not like he bitches everyone out like he used to, he even considers Nik and Makedon to be… sort of friends. Casual ones, but still, being talked about this way is making his skin crawl.
For a moment of fleeting dread, Laurent remembers the older men that would come over and smoke with his uncle, the horrible perverted way his uncle talked about him and his body, like he was a whore and not his nephew. He swallows hard and pushes the thought away. He should go back upstairs, but even his iron will isn’t quite strong enough to walk away from a conversation about him.
“Dameeeeeen.” Nikandros groans again, much more dramatic. “We’re your best friends, you never tell us anything.” Laurent can hear the pout in his voice. “He’s such a dick twenty-four hours a day, what kind of transformation happens when you get him alone? Is he kinky?”
“Leave it alone, guys.” Damen warns.
“Come on, you’re the only person on campus who’s gotten in this guys pants and everyone looks at him.” Makedon adds and Laurent curls in on himself, sitting on the top step and crossing his arms tight. “ you’re fucking the hottest, most hard to obtain ass at this school.”
Everyone looks at him? He doesn’t exactly dress modestly, but he’s nowhere near provocative… Do Damen’s friends all see him this way? Just some trophy their friend has miraculously won and they all want to win it too? Laurent has to swallow hard, hugging himself as if he’s too naked in the floor length robe.
“Damen I swear to God, you give me one detail and I’ll leave you alone today.” Makedon pleads and Laurent’s stomach turns when Damen doesn’t reply right away.
“He’s just…” Damen starts and stops again, Laurent’s heart hammering a hole in his chest. “He’s sweeter than he seems. Sex with him is really emotional.”
Laurent’s cheeks burn red. Sure, it’s vague, but why is Damen saying anything at all? Whatever demeanor Laurent has in bed with him, that’s for Damen, not his stupid frat buddies. His chest is starting to ache.
“He makes all these cute noises when he gets worked up.”
Please stop talking, Laurent begs internally. He can live with what Damen’s told them thus far, but if Damen truly reveals anything intimate, he feels like his heart might break.
“And he has really sensitive ears, they get all pink when he blushes.”
I trusted you. I trusted you. Please don’t say another word to them, I trusted you. Laurent feels like the room is spinning.
“He’s gotten a lot of shit in the past.” Damen continues. “He likes to be taken care of, when you actually get to know him… he’s really gentle. Sometimes if I praise him, he does this blushy thing it’s crazy.” Damen gives an affectionate laugh at the admission, but Laurent feels his insides crumple.
Stop. Please, please stop.
“He gets really cute sometimes. He responds to nicknames and with the praise stuff, he reacts a lot if I call him good, tell him how much I like what he’s doing, that kind of thing.”
Laurent feels his lips tremble, his eyes watering before he realized there are tears welling up at all. He hasn’t felt this way since… he can’t even remember the last time he felt so hurt or betrayed because he hasn’t let anyone in before. He never let anyone see this side of him, so that no one could make him feel this way, so that no one could hurt him or betray him.
But he’d let Damen in… he’d let him in so, so deep inside of himself, not just his body, but his mind, his heart.
He presses a fist quick against his lips for fear sound may escape them and give him away.
“And you’re sure you’re talking about Laurent?” Nikandros’s voice echoes up the stairs. “The guy who rips everyone to shreds with all those dirty insults, likes it when his boyfriend calls him a good boy in bed?”
Laurent can’t listen to any more. He’s careful when he rises, his hand shaking on the bannister, but he knows the stairs will creak if he’s careless.
Once standing, he creeps carefully up the two stairs he’d descended and walks quickly back into Damen’s room, shutting the door softly behind him despite how much he wants to slam it.
He hasn’t felt this in a while — like he wants to scream and sob and wail, throw something through a window, bang his head against the wall. But he spent years bottling those urges. He can bottle them again now. He won’t give Damen the satisfaction of seeing him cry like a child.
Anger burns in his gut while sadness aches his chest as he blinks his eyes quickly, trying to drive back tears as he undresses and searches desperately for last night's clothes.
He takes the underwear he keeps in Damen’s dresser and wrestles himself back into his jeans from the night before, his skin still damp and resistant from the shower.
The loose white shirt he’d worn last night only because Damen had recently told him how nice he looked in white is crumpled on the floor at the foot of the bed. Laurent yanks it on anyways and tries not to let out the agonizing sound threatening to rise in his throat when it smells just like Damen’s cologne and deodorant.
He finds his keys on the nightstand and rips his phone off of Damen’s charger to stuff in his back pocket just as the door to the room opens.
“Oh, you’re dressed.” Damen says, Laurent’s back turnt to him as he walks over to set a cup of coffee on the nightstand. He looks up to meet Laurent’s eyes and his face melts into worry in seconds. “Laurent? Hey, what’s wrong?”
Laurent wants to scream at him. He wants to let every filthy insult he can think of fly at Damen without remorse, but he knows he can’t open his mouth without a sob falling out of it. His body is aching as if Damen had thrown him down the stairs, not just broken his heart. Every muscle feels sore as he narrows his eyes and glares at Damen. He knows Damen can see the tears that have welled up too quickly to blink back and he watches as Damen quickly catches on to his fury.
“Oh, Laurent I…” Damen suddenly looks miserable. “Laurent, I was just trying to get them off my back, I swear I only told them as much as I thought would get them to leave us alone a-and then I just got…” He lets out a panicked breath and scrubs his hand through his hair, his brown eyes wide with a fear Laurent hasn’t seen on him before. He ignores the way it threatens to tug at his heart strings “I just got lost in my own thoughts about you and I shared more than I meant to, I’m so, so sorry, please-“ Damen reaches out a hand, but Laurent steps back quickly.
“Don’t touch me.” He hisses, his hands balling into fists even if they’re shaking. “Don’t come near me. Don’t text me, don’t fucking call me, don’t you dare set foot near me ever again.”
“Laurent.” Damen’s mouth wobbles. “Laurent I’m so sorry I fucked up, but please. I-It’s me. I love you, I would never-“
“Tsk.” Laurent clicks and pushes past him, trying with every ounce of his being to ignore the horrible guilt Damen’s pain makes him feel. Laurent isn’t the person who betrayed their trust. Laurent didn’t do anything to Damen to deserve this and he’ll be damned if he feels sorry for him on top of the agonizing knowledge of Damen’s stupid friends knowing some of his most intimate secrets.
“Laurent, please.”
Laurent does slam the door this time, kicking it shut hard behind him and descending the stairs two at a time, eyes facing forward so as not to meet the stunned expressions of Nikandros and Makedon when he passes them on his way to the front door.
Out on the sidewalk, he makes a beeline for the corner and turns it before Damen can come running after him. It’s times like this he curses not having a car. He gets everywhere on foot or rides with Damen, now he’s out in the cold — literally.
He clenches his teeth and tries to steady his breathing, the panicked intakes of breath are making the cold air burn his throat. His place is only a few blocks away. Just a few blocks.
When the wind blows against him and Laurent sees the road is empty on a Sunday morning, he lets his lips tremble, sniffling as he picks up the pace to his apartment. He feels like he could shake apart any second, now shivering on top of his tremors. He still wants to scream, but he swallows the urge hard, looking over his shoulder every few steps to make sure Damen hasn’t driven after him.
He hasn’t and Laurent despises himself for feeling a twinge of disappointment.
He walks even faster, fearing his demeanor will crumble any moment as he finally reaches his apartment building. He avoids the elevator and opts for the stairs, his chest rising and falling in quick shallow breaths as he hurries to the second floor and fumbles with his key. His hands are shaking so hard he needs both of them to fit the key in the lock.
Laurent practically falls inside of the apartment, ripping his key back out of the door and slamming it behind him. He locks all three locks, the doorknob, the bolt, and the metal slider at the top.
His apartment only has three rooms, the open kitchen and living room and his bedroom with its bathroom attached. He kicks his shoes off in the living room and drops his keys to the floor, hiccuping as he rushes to his bedroom and locks that door behind him too.
He closes the blinds, then falls down on the bed, burying his face in the pillow to let out every aching sob his body heaves up.
How did he let this happen? How did he let himself fall in love with anyone, knowing it would destroy him if he was betrayed?
Laurent rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling, gasping for air as his breaths quicken, his heart pounding as he squeezes his eyes shut.
It will pass. You’ve felt this before, it will pass.
His last panic attack had been six months ago when his uncle had sent a letter, trying to lure Laurent home under the guise of ‘reconnecting.’ Laurent had changed his mailing address and shaken apart in his room for hours before allowing Damen to come over and comfort him.
There was no one that could comfort him now. After surviving for so long without it, he had become weak. He let himself rely on Damen, his warm body and kind eyes. He’ll have to learn all over again how to get by on his own.
He closes his eyes and forces his lungs to cooperate one breath at a time, holding it and counting to five before blowing it out, not allowing himself to take any air back in until he counts to five again.
It feels like it takes a thousand breaths for his heart to stop pounding, but he can eventually breathe evenly again. He still cries, still hiccups, his chest burning with hurt as he counts the dots on the ceiling tiles.
What did he do for Damen to hurt him like this? Laurent had told him in no uncertain terms how much it would destroy him if Damen exposed this part of him. Laurent had told him so much… Damen is the only person in his life who knows how he was raped, abused, how he was only able to flee two short years ago to university.
He’s gotten a lot of shit in the past.
Laurent’s mouth wobbles all over again. Not everyone is as naive and well meaning as Damen is (or as Laurent had thought he was). A guy who’s icy and protective, who keeps his sex life locked up with a silver key, who’s had some shit in the past? Laurent knows what his friends will think, the theories they’ll come up with of why he is the way he is. Chances are, their guesses won’t be too far off from the truth.
His phone is vibrating continuously in his pocket, missed calls and texts from Damen. Laurent doesn’t read them.
He tosses the phone from the bed to the bean bag in the corner (an addition of Damen’s to his bedroom of course) and tugs the covers over his head, squeezing his eyes shut and waiting until the exhaustion of crying allows him to fall asleep.
He’ll sleep all day if it means he can forget how this feels for a moment.
*****
Laurent falls into a fitful rest for a while, thankfully dreamless, but he wakes up feeling no less tired or miserable.
It’s early evening by the time he drags himself out of bed and changes into clean clothes, shoving the shirt that smells like Damen into the bottom of his hamper. There’s plenty of Damen’s t shirts in there along with it and he shuts the hamper to avoid thinking about all the little bits of Damen that have invaded every corner of his life.
Poking out from under his bed, he notices the enormous gift wrapped box peeking out and another pang in his chest stops him in his tracks. They were supposed to spend Christmas together this year… Damen had even promised to stay in town for the entirety of winter break.
Laurent had spent months saving up, wanting to get him something special for all that Damen had done for him… He’d bought it just last week. Damen had told him once about how him and his older brother used to play guitar together before his brother had died, something that Laurent connected with him deeply over — both of them little brothers left behind. So Laurent had saved every penny of his spare tutoring cash and bought Damen an acoustic guitar. He didn’t know much about instruments but he’d talked at length with the guy at the store to find one that sounded perfect for Damen.
His eyes threaten to water again, so he kicks the box back under the bed all the way and picks up his phone to swipe away the dozens of notifications. Even Nik and Makedon have texted him, but he ignores every message.
He’s honest enough with himself to know how badly he wants to believe Damen when he skims the words, repetitions of “sorry” over and over, promises it will never happen again. Laurent is also realistic enough to know that he can’t believe him, even if he wants to.
What’s hurting him the most is how Damen made him feel like an object. Sex between them every time felt so emotional and deep, so intimate Laurent almost cried at times. Even if he was using words to describe Laurent as sweet, hearing him talk about what he liked in bed made him feel like a cheap fuck. No matter how much love supposedly dripped from Damen’s voice when he spoke of it, Laurent knew the picture he’d painted was of a bratty twink on all fours, preening when Damen tells him what a good boy he is.
Heat pools in his cheeks with humiliation. He hadn’t even meant to let Damen know how much he liked to be praised — Damen had guessed it and Laurent had helplessly reacted. He would shiver thinking about Damen running a hand through his hair, calling him beautiful, telling him how tight he felt, how good he was for him… Now he feels so ashamed of every time Damen cooed pretty words into his ear and he’d arched his back or moaned in reply. How did he let himself be so vulnerable?
Laurent shuts his phone off and drops it again, blinking hard as he heads to the kitchen, hoping a glass of water will soothe his sore throat.
Maybe if he buries his nose in a textbook, he can forget about all of this for a minute. Damen may have broken his heart, but Laurent is here on scholarship. Damen won’t take his GPA down with him at least.
*****
“I told you guys to leave me alone about it.” Damen groans, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes as he lays on the couch, Mak to his left on the worn down arm chair and Nik sitting by his feet. They pretty much told all the other brothers to steer clear for the day, Damen can’t even remember the last time he felt so horrible. He doesn’t think he’s even felt pain like this since he lost his dad and brother.
“I’m so stupid.” He sniffs, removing his hands to stare up at the ceiling. “I am a horrible person.”
“I’m uh… I’m still really sorry.” Nikandros winces. “I thought you were just doing your whole chivalrous gentleman thing, I didn’t know it was actually…”
“We had no clue it was really important to him.” Makedon finishes with an awkward clear of his throat. “We wouldn’t have pushed so much, if we knew um… whatever he went through-“
“Don’t.” Damen holds his hand up. “Don’t ask me about his past, don’t make guesses, I betrayed his trust completely by telling you guys he had a past at all.” He remembers the tearful night Laurent had told him what he’d lived through. Losing his brother, his father — both soldiers abroad. Then when all he had was one remaining family member to turn to, he was horribly abused until he was old enough to escape. Laurent had shared that with him and even if Damen didn’t even tell his friends that it was abuse, that Laurent was an orphan like he was, that he was a rape survivor, he knows how much it hurt Laurent to know he had said anything at all.
Laurent despises pity and he knows too well from Damen the look of horror that comes with the knowledge of what’s been done to him. He doesn’t want to be that person. He wants to be top of his class, he wants to get a job where he can use his brain to help people. He doesn’t want anyone to feel sorry for him, to know the atrocities that he survived and Damen betrayed that.
Laurent armors himself in his reputation — his harsh words, cold demeanor, and bitchy cleverness. Damen letting out the fact that Laurent’s persona is a result of some dark hidden past, shatters that image right there.
“We won’t ask.” Nikandros nods, slumped on the sofa.
“You know, he thought you guys were his friends too.” Damen swallows hard, sitting himself up and glaring at Nikandros. “He doesn’t let it on, he even denies it to me, but he knows you guys are my best friends. It matters to him what you guys think of him and if he heard us in the kitchen, he knows you guys just see him as a sex object. He’s been my boyfriend for a year.”
“I know.” Nikandros grimaces, Makedon curling in on himself similarly. “I’m… so sorry, Damen. Really.”
“I’m sure he’ll still come around.” Makedon tries to suggest. “I mean, this is the only actual fight you guys have had aside from your mean back and forth with each other when you met. Would he really break up with you over one mistake?”
“It wasn’t a mistake.” Damen swallows. “I said what I said and I didn’t have to say it. I hurt him. I hurt him really bad.”
“He has to at least call you back eventually, doesn’t he? You guys have classes together.”
Damen gives a grim shake of his head and wipes his eyes for what feels like the thousandth time. “You don’t know him like I do.”
*****
Damen is the first one to their shared class on monday, leaving Laurent’s seat empty next to him and watching over his shoulder as each student enters the lecture hall. Laurent is almost always the first one there, but this time, he’s almost two minutes late, the very last person to enter and he takes a seat in the far corner of the back row.
Damen’s stomach clenches, trying to make eye contact with him, but Laurent just pulls out a notebook and keeps his eyes focused on the professor at the front of the room, his gaze never diverting. Even from a distance, he looks tired. Damen imagines he doesn’t look much better himself.
At the end of class, he tries to make a beeline for him, but Laurent is out the door with the crowd not a second after the professor signals their dismissal.
Outside the lecture hall, Damen searches for the familiar head of golden blonde hair, but there’s none to be found.
He goes to Laurent’s favorite study spot, a secluded corner tucked away on the top floor of the library, but his place is empty and untouched. He checks the campus coffee shop, the book store, all the places Laurent likes to frequent after class, but still — nothing.
Damen’s chest aches as he resigns and begins the walk to his next class. Laurent must have just gone home. He’s considered showing up at his apartment, but he knows it’s too soon. If he gets desperate, he may show up at his door with all the flowers his arms can carry…
It’s one thing if Laurent wants to be done with him, but Damen’s worried sick. Laurent shouldn’t be by himself. He has nightmares and panic attacks and Damen was only just starting to warm him up to the idea of seeing a therapist. It makes his heart ache thinking of Laurent being on his own again after everything they’ve shared with each other… There’s no one else to comfort him.
Damen shows up to their shared classes early every single day in the hopes of catching Laurent, but each time, Laurent arrives last and sits far away, leaving as soon as class ends before Damen can catch him. He still hasn’t returned a single call or text.
A week goes by and sometimes Laurent doesn’t come to class at all. When he does and Damen catches glimpses of him, he can see dark circles under his eyes and he looks even skinnier than usual. Is he eating? Is he getting any sleep at all? Is he able to study or has Damen hurt him so bad, he can’t focus? He nearly pukes at the idea of Laurent losing his scholarship all because of him. Each time he thinks of all the pain Laurent’s endured and the fact that he’s added a whole new wound to the repertoire, he finds himself close to crying.
At night, he does. Alone in his room and clutching his phone in the hopes it will buzz with something, anything from Laurent. He sleeps with the ringer on, refusing to change his home screen photo of Laurent kissing him on the sidelines of one of his best football games, his foot adorably raised off the grass as Damen holds his waist. It’s his favorite photo of them, the first time Laurent had given in to coming to see him play.
Nikandros and Makedon check in on him, but Damen can’t bring himself to do much more than go to class and search for Laurent.
If Laurent manages to avoid him all through to winter break, Damen doesn’t know what he’ll do. The thought of Laurent alone on Christmas after all the plans they crafted, the promises that Damen made him.
He can’t let that happen. He might have fucked up. He might have hurt Laurent beyond repair, but he’ll be damned if he lets him be alone again. He won’t do it.
Laurent can hate his guts, but Damen loves him too much to let him waste away.
******
The first few nights, Laurent tosses and turns, but he gets through them. The sadness is exhausting, along with forcing himself to keep up with his schoolwork. Going to class is a physical challenge, enduring the stomachache that comes along with seeing the horribly guilty way Damen looks at him from down in the front row each day.
Then the nightmares come back.
He’s alone again, a child, cold hands in the dark forcing his legs apart, touching him in places that make him beg for it to stop, sobbing as his own body betrays him and gives his uncle the physical reactions he uses to justify it.
See? You like that, don’t you Laurent? Don’t lie to your dear uncle… This here doesn’t lie, you filthy little-
“Damen!” Laurent gasps when he jolts awake, soaked in sweat and trembling as he reaches out on instinct for the usual comfort of his lover beside him only to find an empty mattress. Fuck.
Fuck, fuck. Laurent’s mouth quivers as he runs his hands over the sheets, feeling their coldness. He’s by himself again. There’s no one in bed beside him, holding him and petting his hair. He can’t call Damen to come rushing over to spend the night with him when he’s scared.
It’s just him and his hammering heartbeat, his breath that keeps coming and going too quick to properly fill his lungs.
He searches for old muscle memory, lying on his back and staring awake to count ceiling tiles as he tries to force his breathing back to normal, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes and running down his face as he counts wordlessly over and over again until he’s not shaking so hard.
He hates himself for missing him. He hates that he wants to be held right now, even though the thought of Damen only brings back the feeling of utter betrayal he’d felt sitting at the top of the stairs.
In the morning, he drags himself to class after a sleepless night, returning to his apartment immediately after lecture.
For two weeks, he makes it his routine. He sleeps maybe three hours a night, drags himself to class, then shuts himself back at home to study. He eats when he can, but his anxious stomach rejects most things. He’s losing weight.
When he goes to class next time around, Damen isn’t the first one there. He wanders in with the middle of the crowd, his usually radiant skin looking paler, his eyes pink like he’s just finished crying.
After two weeks, Damen can’t possibly still this upset over him, can he? He isn’t even the one who got hurt.
The more Laurent looks at his agonized ex-lover struggle to keep his head up during class, the more furious with himself he becomes. Two weeks and he still feels the instinct to comfort him, to ask to be comforted in turn. He doesn’t feel any better than he did the day he stormed out of the frat house, but it has to start fading eventually doesn’t it?
He can hardly eat, hardly sleep, finals are just around the corner.
Laurent doesn’t know how either of them can keep this up, but the pang in his chest lets him know he doesn’t have a choice. Damen hurt him deeply. Now he doesn’t know if he can ever see his face without feeling this ache.
*****
It’s day sixteen when someone knocks on Laurent’s door. He’s sitting on the floor of his living room, leaning back against the couch with his books and notes spread around him, trying to cram as best he can for next week’s exams.
His heart leaps at the knock, first just startled, then uncontrollably excited… then just panicked. Damen’s finally given up on hunting him down on campus and come straight to his apartment.
He doesn’t have to answer the door. He was clear with Damen that he doesn’t want to speak to him again, that he doesn’t want to see him. When Damen knocks a second time, he has to squeeze his eyes shut.
“Laurent?” A tired voice comes from the other side of the door. “I… I know you’re home. I know you probably hate me and you have every right to, but I just… I need to talk to you at least one. I’m so sorry. I need you to know how sorry I am and I’m really worried about you. You can cut me completely out of your life, but please just… tell me you’re okay?”
Laurent feels his heart twist in his chest as he stares at his front door. Damen’s voice is rough and ragged like he’s in the process of losing it.
“Please? I… I saw how you looked in class, I know you’re not sleeping and I know you’re not eating well either. You can kick me out, but I… I brought some of your favorite, if you’ll at least take it. I’m not leaving here.”
Laurent huffs and presses his palms to his eyes, exasperated. Why does Damen have to be so fucking kind all the time? Can’t he just be angry that Laurent broke up with him? Can’t he just tell him to fuck off and leave him alone and go drink off the edge with his frat buddies? Why does he have to care so much about him, no one else ever has.
“Please, Laurent. I know you’re there.”
Knowing Damen, if Laurent doesn’t answer the door soon, his neighbors will start to complain any minute now. Fuck.
Laurent pushes himself up on tired limbs, his stomach in knots as he approaches the front door and forces in a deep breath.
“I told you to leave me alone.” Laurent says tiredly when he answers the door. He knows putting on his usual facade is of no use with Damen. His eyes will give away how much he’s hurting, but that doesn’t mean he has to speak the truth out loud.
Damen looks just as exhausted, his arms full of Laurent’s favorite things. There’s a takeout bag from the French place downtown, a box of his favorite tea, a small bouquet of half a dozen blue hydrangeas. “I… I didn’t know what to bring, I know I can’t make anything up to you with material things but I know you need to eat and that you’re trying to study and I saw the flowers on the way to pick up the food.” He looks at Laurent, helpless. “Can we please talk? Just for a minute.”
Laurent hardens his glare, but his stomach quietly rumbles. He hasn’t had a proper hot meal in ages, not having the will nor the energy to cook for himself. Damen likely won’t let him be until Laurent lets him speak at least once anyways.
“A minute.” Laurent huffs, his shoulders sagging as he steps to the side to let Damen in.
He hates how comfortable Damen is in his life. Damen brushes right past him and sets the takeout on the kitchen counter with the box of tea before stretching up to open the cabinet above Laurent’s fridge. There, he takes out the lone flower vase and fills it with water from the sink, removing the plastic from around the bouquet to place them there.
Laurent shuts the door behind him and swallows hard when Damen turns to look at him. “Well?”
“Laurent, I’m sorry.” Damen says and he looks positively miserable. His soft brown eyes seem darker and his usually confident posture is slouched and tired. “I’m so sorry for what I did, it was stupid, and I made a shitty judgement call thinking I could get them off my back when I should have just kept my mouth shut.” His eyes start to water. “I swear I’ve never told them anything else you’ve shared with me. Never. I know how much you trusted me and I can’t forgive myself for hurting you like this.”
Laurent just scowls at the floor, his cheeks flushing pink. He hates being seen like this, like some wounded animal Damen accidentally struck down. He hates it because it’s true. He feels like a wounded animal.
“Please… please, if there’s any chance I could earn your trust back, you don’t have to love me again like you did, but I just…” Damen gestures wildly in the air, searching for the words as his lips start to quiver. “I can’t imagine my life without you, Laurent. I know you can take care of yourself without me, but I’m worried sick every day we aren’t together and I… I miss you.” He swallows. “I miss you more than anything, it feels like grief.”
The admission sends another pang through Laurent’s chest. He’d thought the same thing. The pain of losing Damen, while it wasn’t exactly the same, it was reminiscent of losing his brother — the last person that Laurent had relied on. He misses him too… But allowing himself to get hurt this way a second time? He won’t survive it.
“Have you… missed me?” Damen’s eyes beg as he takes a step closer. “Have you been okay?”
“Of course I haven’t been okay!” Laurent snaps, finally looking up to meet Damen’s eyes. “I trusted you. You’re the one who pursued me. I pushed you away again and again, but you kept insisting until you made me like you, then you got me to spread my legs just to go and brag to your friends about it, do you have any idea what that was like?” His eyes are welling with angry tears, but he doesn’t bother pushing them back.
“I was surviving on my own, then you made me rely on you. You made me get used to you, you made me…” he stops and takes a breath, squeezing his eyes shut and hugging himself tight. “I have never, ever let someone touch me since him.” He swallows hard. “I know I… implied that there were maybe others, but there weren’t. You’re the only person I let in.” Laurent feels his voice get quieter as he speaks, his lips quivering and the sadness blooming in his chest to overtake his anger. “And when you made love to me, I thought I couldn’t even imagine being hurt by you.”
“Laurent…” Damen steps closer, close enough he could pull Laurent into a hug if he wanted to. Laurent doesn’t step back. “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved. I’m so sorry, I swear I never meant to hurt you. Please tell me you know that. You know me, I would never hurt you on purpose, I…” He trails off and scrubs a hand over his face, sniffling. “I love you. I would do anything for you to trust me again.”
Laurent’s chest aches. They’re standing so close together. His muscle memory tells him to take that last step forward, to fall into Damen’s arms and let himself fall apart, knowing Damen will put him back together again.
“You don’t have to be alone again.” Damen says, softly. “Laurent, if you’ll just let me into your life, I’ll never hurt you again. I won’t let anything else hurt you, I know you don’t need my protection, but if I’m not by your side-“
“Shut up.” Laurent’s voice cracks and he presses a hand to his lips to keep any further sound from escaping before he can swallow it down. “I… I don’t…” He hiccups.
You don’t have to be alone again. He doesn’t want to be. He doesn’t want to spend Christmas by himself and sleep on his own. He wants to wake up to Damen’s shitty breakfast again and spend hours with him just drinking coffee and talking.
“It’s been horrible.” Laurent finally croaks. “I’ve been having nightmares every night and I kept reaching out for you, but you weren’t…” He makes a fluttery motion with his hand. “I was just…” Before he can protest, a pair of strong arms are wrapping around him, pulling him close against a firm chest and a shoulder Laurent’s face tucks into perfectly.
The grip tightens when Laurent’s knees wobble and his will crumbles. Damen’s scent, his stupid two in one shampoo and body wash, his flowery deodorant, his arms secure around him, he can’t.
“Damen.” Laurent cries, a sob bubbling up from his throat before he can stop it as his body acts on its own accord. His arms fling around Damen’s neck, holding on to him for dear life, like this may disappear if he dares let go of it again.
“I’m so sorry.” Damen murmurs to him. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I love you so much, I swear, I love you, Laurent.”
Laurent doesn’t say a word, just holds on tight and cries into Damen’s shoulder. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s crying for — the guilt of giving in to his desire to have Damen in his life again, the relief of knowing they still love each other. He feels weak. He feels embarrassed, but he can’t bring himself to let go of Damen. He doesn’t want to. He wants to hold on to him forever even if he thinks he shouldn’t.
“It’s okay.” Damen coos, rubbing his back. “It’s all okay. I’m right here, I’ve got you.”
“Damen.” Laurent hiccups, finally lifting his head and sniffling. “I… I did miss you, I was just so…”
“I know.” Damen nods, his eyes wet, but kind as ever. Laurent has never been able to keep from melting in front of them, not since the first time Damen held his hand. “I hurt you.”
Laurent nods, looking away again.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know.” He gulps, his eyes wandering to the fresh flowers on the counter. On their first Valentine's Day together, Damen had given him these and Laurent had been shocked that Damen guessed his favorite flower despite having never been told. “I shouldn’t have cut you off like I did, I just… I don’t know how else to protect myself.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Damen says, letting go of his waist to push his hair back behind his ears. “And if you’re not ready to go back to how things were, that’s okay too. I’m here no matter how you want me.”
“I don’t want to go back to the start.” Laurent shakes his head, looking back up at Damen. He can allow himself this. This one precious thing in the world that he just simply wants. He can have this if he’ll only let himself. “I want you to kiss me.”
Before Laurent can even register the motion, Damen hooks his arms around his thighs and lifts him onto the kitchen counter, standing between his parted knees and kissing him so hard, Laurent feels the wind knocked out of him.
He whimpers helplessly against Damen’s lips, wrapping his arms around his broad shoulders and opening his mouth to invite him in.
They can say so much to one another in a kiss. In the brush of Damen’s tongue and the press of his lips, Laurent feels how much he missed him, how desperate he’d been to make things right. He feels the love between them, so strong and deep that even his years of cultivated self control can’t deny it any more.
Damen’s hand rests on the small of his back, arching him as the other slides into his hair, holding the back of his head as they kiss.
Laurent is breathless when they part, his face flushed and his pants a little tight as he holds on to Damen’s shoulders. Part of him wants Damen to fuck him right here in the kitchen, but his tender heart warns him to slow things down.
He tilts his head and sighs, half in relief and half in pleasure as Damen’s warm wet mouth trails kisses and gentle bites up his neck. A hot tongue intrudes on his ear, teeth nipping at the lobe and Laurent has to bite his lip. Damen knows him so well — too well, if this reunion has taught him anything.
“Damen.” Laurent breathes, keeping his head tilted, unable to resist an onslaught of gentle kisses to his collarbone.
“Yes?”
“I… I don’t want to have sex just yet.”
“That’s okay.” Damen says, looking up and pressing a chaste kiss to Laurent’s lips instead. “What can I do for you?”
Laurent looks at the bags beneath Damen’s eyes and considers the soreness of his own. He’s been so tired… He knows what they both need.
“Come to bed with me.” Laurent says, running a hand through Damen’s disheveled curls. “Take your jeans off and just… hold me for a while. We haven’t rested in God knows how long.”
“Say no more.” Damen smiles, offering his hand to Laurent to help him down from the counter before following him to his bedroom.
Laurent’s heart doesn’t sink when he remembers the guitar under the bed this time. He’s excited again, eager for Christmas to come for the first time since he was 12 years old.
“Your room is still completely clean.” Damen chuckles, pulling his t shirt off over the back of his head and pushing down his jeans.
Laurent smiles a little. His heart still feels raw and he knows his anxiety about what happened won’t disappear overnight, but it’s… comforting, seeing Damen casually strip for a midday nap like they often do on weekends spent studying. He changes into some soft shorts from the dresser and pulls Damen to bed.
“I missed this more than you can imagine.” Damen sighs when he pulls Laurent against him, holding him like a teddy bear as Laurent settles comfortably against his chest, his cheek resting just above his heart.
“I think I can imagine.” Laurent says with a deep breath as Damen pulls the covers over their shoulders. “It feels good to have you in my bed again.”
“I was terrified I’d never see your silk sheets again.” Damen teases, planting a loving kiss to the tip of Laurent’s head. “Get some sleep. I’ll help you study when you wake up, or whatever you want from me.”
“When we wake up, I’m devouring that takeout.”
“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. Laurent blushes at the pet name and hides his smile in a kiss to Damen’s neck. He’s still embarrassed that Nikandros and Makedon of all people know how much he likes that sort of thing, but it feels good to hear again. He’d missed the sweet names Damen calls him in private.
He closes his eyes without worry for the first time in two weeks, feeling the rise and fall of Damen’s chest until it lulls him into the most peaceful sleep he’s had all month.
*****
Laurent wakes up to gentle fingers in his hair and soft kisses being pressed to his forehead. He relaxes instantly at the familiarity, blinking his eyes open to see Damen with his mussed up hair smiling down at him.
“Hey.” Damen says softly, pushing Laurent’s hair out of his eyes. “It’s dark out. I thought you might want to wake up and eat something.”
“I suppose I should.” Laurent sighs, settling back down on Damen’s chest anyways. He can feel Damen pressed against him between his legs and chuckles a little. “Sweet dreams, huh?”
Damen’s cheeks flash pink. “Sorry, I’m not trying anything, I swear, I think uh… I think it’s just happy to see you again.”
Laurent rolls his eyes, but presses a few lazy kisses to Damen’s neck again. Before they started having real sex, Laurent would still spend the night frequently. They’d wake up like this often and make out for a little bit, grind together until they came still clothed. He feels unsure about letting Damen fuck him again so soon, but he had missed the physical intimacy. Missing it had made him feel awful and dirty with the frequency of his nightmares, but being pressed up against this like Damen again is reminding him of how good it feels when he’s with someone he loves.
“Come here.” Laurent says, his voice soft and low as he takes Damen’s shoulders and rolls their position, lying on his back with Damen over him. “I think I need time before I let you fuck me again.”
“I understand.”
Of course he does. “But…” Laurent cants his hips upwards and watches Damen’s eyes flutter shut at the friction. “I missed you too.”
“Is this what you want?” Damen asks as he hikes Laurent’s leg up over his hip and grinds down experimentally, pressing the bulge of his cock against Laurent’s through the layers of their underwear and Laurent’s small cotton shorts.
“Yes.” Laurent sighs. “I might even argue you owe me a good orgasm or two after all this.”
“That can be arranged.” Damen grins, leaning down to nuzzle their noses together as he gently rocks back and forth. “Turn your head for me, sweetheart.”
Laurent preens and arches his back as he obeys, letting out a soft breath of pleasure as they rub together under the blankets and Damen’s warm mouth once again lavishes his neck in attention.
Over the past several months, even before they worked up to penetrative sex, Damen has gotten to intimately know Laurent’s erogenous zones. His neck is his kryptonite. Damen’s the only one to have ever kissed him there and Laurent found that his skin was incredibly sensitive, his control always faltering when Damen licked, kissed, and sucked on his neck or collarbone. His ears were just as willbreaking, Laurent’s mouth always falling helplessly open when Damen pays them attention.
Sometimes, Laurent will wrap his arms around Damen’s shoulders and hold him there, urging him to suck on all of his most sensitive spots while they fucked or grinded together all the way until he came. Needless to say, he’d added a lot of turtlenecks to his wardrobe.
“Damen.” Laurent gasps at the sensation of a hot tongue around his ear, one of his hands pushing into Damen’s curls to encourage him.
“Laurent.” Damen echoes, pressing his hips down and rolling against Laurent at a heavenly angle that makes him moan quietly underneath him.
It shouldn’t feel like enough, but it does. Laurent feels himself hard and wet through his clothes, already close to coming just from a little friction and Damen’s attentive mouth.
There’s one more erogenous zone Damen enjoys taking advantage of. It was another thing Laurent had at first tried to stifle his reaction to, but when Damen senses even the slightest arousal in response to something, he pounces on it.
“Come here, baby.” Damen mumbles against his skin, sliding one hand up Laurent’s shirt to gently pinch and play with one of Laurent’s nipples.
He doesn’t know why he’s so sensitive there, or why he likes it so much, but Laurent whimpers and jerks up into Damen’s touch almost instantly.
“Does that feel good?”
Laurent gives a desperate nod.
Damen puts his tongue back to work, using it to soothe the bruises and love marks he’s already left as he starts to rock back and forth against Laurent a little faster.
Now is the time when Damen would usually talk more, tell Laurent what a good boy he is, how badly he wants to see him come. Laurent suspects Damen is holding back on that bit so as not to embarrass him, but he doesn’t know if he’s relieved or disappointed about it.
As their motions under the sheets get more frantic and Laurent’s body starts to tense up in anticipation, Damen leans in close to whisper to him, the breath against his ear making him shiver. “Come for me, Laurent.”
Despite his defiant nature, this is one command Laurent is privy to obeying, gasping and moaning out a string of swears as he grinds with Damen and comes hard into the fabric of his underwear.
Damen comes with him, kissing Laurent’s lips in between low groans of his name.
By the time they’re done, Laurent can feel the wet spots on both their groins and peels himself away from the bed. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He says breathlessly, his face flushed and his knees wobbly with aftershocks as he leaves for the adjoined bathroom.
Lately, he’d usually stay in bed with Damen to bask in the afterglow for a few minutes at least, but it’s been a while since they’ve both gotten off with their clothes on.
He crinkles his nose at himself as he slips out of the soiled shorts and underwear, depositing them in the laundry basket to be dealt with later before cleaning himself up.
In the mirror, he looks even more ravished than he feels. His neck is practically splattered in light purple bruises, pink patches of skin where Damen had nipped, and a bite mark on his shoulder. He shivers at the memory of all those sensations.
His hair is an absolute wreck. Granted, he’d already neglected it quite a bit this week, hiding knots more than dealing with them, but now it’s a true birds nest.
Laurent wets a washcloth with warm water and steps back out into the bedroom, handing it to Damen and tossing his boxers into the hamper for him. He takes some of the spare pajama pants of Damen’s from the bottom drawer of his dresser, a drawer he’d been dreading cleaning out, and tosses them his way as well.
“Thanks.” Damen says, standing up and sliding into them before he pulls Laurent in again for a silly kiss on the tip of his nose. “You need to eat.”
“I will.” Laurent shrugs. “And you’re… staying?”
“As long as you’ll have me.” Damen reaches out and curls a lock of Laurent’s hair around his finger. “Why don’t you get settled on the floor with your food in the living room? I’ll put something on and brush your hair out.”
“Really?” Laurent’s hand flies subconsciously to the back of his head where he knows a serious rats nest awaits attending. He hasn’t conditioned properly in days and with all the wind…
“Sure.” Damen shrugs with a smile.
“Okay.” Laurent squints at him a little. “Only because I’m still pissed at you a little bit. If you pull my hair, you’re sleeping on the couch.”
“Fair terms.”
Laurent pulls on a pair of clean underwear from the dresser and changes t-shirts before leading Damen to the living room. He takes the takeout from the counter with a glass of water and settles on the floor in front of the couch with his legs folded, gathering up his books and papers and setting them aside for the moment.
Damen sits behind him, hair brush in hand, and hands Laurent the remote. Another little quirks of his that only Damen is privy to, Laurent is a pretty consistent fan of Drag Race and the new episode has just started. Laurent knows it’s kind of silly, but he likes fashion and bitching people out, so really it’s right up his alley.
When he opens the take out box, Damen’s gotten him his favorite — a tomato mozzarella flatbread practically drenched in olive oil. Laurent almost moans when he bites into it.
“Good? I can heat it up for you.”
Laurent waved him off. “What’re you going to eat?”
“Don’t worry about me for now, I’ll find something later.” Damen says, bending down to kiss the top of his head. “Just eat and lean back a little, I’ll take care of your hair.”
Laurent blushes slightly. Washing his hair in the shower is one thing, but he doesn’t often let Damen do something like brush it out. Still, he supposes Damen owes him a bit after all this and it feels too good once Damen’s touching his hair to untangle what he can by hand.
Laurent eats quietly and watches his show, sighing occasionally when Damen pets his hair, runs his fingers through a newly untangled section. By the time he’s finished the sandwich, Damen’s finished untangling his hair and he climbs up on the sofa to lie down with his head in Damen’s lap. He’s not subtle about what he wants, taking Damen’s hand and pushing it right back into his hair as he turns his attention to the TV.
“It’s cute how much you like this.” Damen smiles, running his hands through the golden locks just how Laurent likes it.
“You’re the same way about getting your back scratched.” Laurent chuckles, shutting his eyes and just enjoying the touch. He never gets sick of it no matter how long Damen keeps a hand in his hair.
“You know if you want to spill any of my embarrassing sex habits to Nik and Makedon to even things out, you can.”
Laurent opens his eyes and cocks an eyebrow at him.
“I mean.” Damen blushes. “It’d be fair.”
“Don’t tempt me. I know too much about you.” Laurent hums, although he wouldn’t be too adverse to poking a little fun at Damen in front of his nosy friends. They don’t indulge in it often, a little too uncomfortable for Laurent, but he’s pretty sure he’s the only one on Earth who knows Damen has a daddy kink. He saves it for extremely special occasions, only calling Damen the dirty nickname when he needs to… humble him a bit in the bedroom perhaps. If used sparingly, it’s like a magic word to make his boyfriend come on command.
Laurent eventually shuts his eyes again, let’s the TV fade into the background as he rests in Damen’s lap. The nap had helped, but he still hasn’t had a proper nights sleep in over a week and he’s spent every waking moment during the day on studying. He’ll catch up tomorrow on school work, right now he just… can’t bring himself to move from this place.
Some walls are still up. Laurent doesn’t trust Damen with the same unwavering confidence of three weeks ago, but he still does… trust him not to hurt him twice. Naive as it sounds, growing sleepy again with his head in Damen’s lap, he can’t give this up. He can’t let go of the only thing that’s made him feel loved since Auguste.
“Damen?” Laurent asks quietly as the show comes to an end. He didn’t even notice whoever was voted off.
“Yes?” Damen answers, his brown eyes full of eagerness to please, to make things up to Laurent however he can.
“Would you, um…” Laurent diverts his eyes and clears his throat. “It’s dark out already and I’m closer to campus than the frat house, you should just spend the night here.”
“Yeah?” Damen smiles and Laurent blushes, knowing he’s too prideful to just outright tell Damen he wants him badly to stay. “Did you burn all my clothes yet?”
“Thankfully that was only scheduled for tomorrow, so you’ll have something to wear in the morning.” Laurent chuckles, looking up at Damen and reaching up to curl a strand of his hair around his finger, letting it go to watch the curl of brown hair spring back into a coil.
“I really, really missed you, Laurent.” Damen sighs, bending down to kiss Laurent’s forehead. “Do you… forgive me?”
Laurent squirms. “I don’t know.” He says, unable to find a more eloquent way to put it. It’s the truth — he doesn’t know. What Damen did to him had hurt so badly, but at the same time, he hates himself for it. Anyone else wouldn’t be offended in the slightest of what Damen had said… but on the other hand, Laurent had explained to him in no unclear terms what he needed to let him in intimately.
Laurent sees the sadness in Damen’s eyes at the answer and sees how Damen tries to mask it as well, his soft brown eyes not breaking contact even when his shoulders slump in disappointment.
“But I do still love you.” Laurent says and that’s the truth as well. “I can’t… help it. Forgiveness isn’t something very deep in my nature, just…” He takes a deep breath and sits himself up, turning to swing his legs into Damen’s lap instead and leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Give me some time. I want to be close to you, but I don’t think I’m quite ready to let you fuck me again yet.” He grimaces at the admission, knowing how absolutely fragile it makes him seem. Who wouldn’t want to have make up sex right now? But letting Damen fuck hum requires Laurent to feel so safe, so deeply in love with him, that all horrible past memories fall away. Trying to have sex that way with any apprehension will only end in a panic attack.
“That’s okay.” Damen nods. “Is other stuff alright? I don’t care if you want me to go celibate, I just want to know where you’re at.”
“Other stuff is okay, just don’t spring anything on me.” Laurent rests his head on Damen’s shoulder and sighs. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m still angry with you. I’m not.”
“Are you sure? It would be okay if you were.”
“I’m sure.” Laurent nods, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of Damen’s mouth. As badly as it had hurt, the logical part of his mind knows that Damen is human. He can’t expect absolute perfection, but he’s still allowed to be as hurt and upset as he needs to be when Damen betrays his trust. But his anger is gone by now, replaced by a weary sense of relief to have his lover back by his side.
“Let’s go back to bed.” Damen smiles. “We could use the extra sleep.”