Brock and James

by Artesisforlovers

Summary:

Damen has been in Arles for four months trying to find out who he is away from his family name, struggling to make friends. He goes to a costume party hosted by his coworker, Auguste, and meets a man that will change his life forever.

Notes:

This was supposed to be short and silly, and ended up sort of long and smutty.

It really got away from me in the end there, and is reaching porn with little plot territory.

Enjoy!

Damen felt stupid. He was headed to a costume party that was 90s cartoon themed hosted by some guy he met at work 4 months ago when he moved to Arles for this job. Auguste seemed cool, and they got along straight away, made a good team at work, etc., but he had no idea what kind of effort to expect from a costume party hosted by him. They worked at a law firm for fuck’s sake. He cannot imagine the people there cutting loose and wearing anything more daring than a tan suit, but Auguste had invited the whole firm, and then cornered Damen at the end of the week to make sure he was coming. 

Auguste had told him everyone at the firm liked him, but no one had any idea what kind of guy he was outside the firm. Sure, he made some of the happy hours, but he never stayed longer than two drinks, and never followed the group past the first bar. It was true, Damen had to admit to himself. He was hardly as social here as he was in Ios. But it was different here. He was different here. In Ios he worked for his dad's firm. Knew everyone that worked there because they were his dad's friends. He had the same group of friends since primary school, and he couldn't go to the grocery store without greeting at least five people he knew. 

He was a nobody in Arles. Nobody knew him by face, and the only people who knew him by name were old nerds at the law firm that specialized in historical precedent that knew of his dad's more revolutionary case wins. It was freeing, in a way, but Damen hadn't quite figured out who he was without his family name backing him yet. So he went out, saw the city at night, but he didn't really engage with anyone else yet. He wanted to know himself first. Pick his friends intentionally, instead of just amassing them as he went. He wanted his friends to choose him as well, instead of his name. He had thought Auguste would be that friend when he first met him, but when he found out he was actually the heir to the firm he had just been hired to, he took a step back. It didn't seem right that he was trying to spread his wings and his first friend would be the Veretian version of his Ios self. Auguste and he had become something like friends anyway, they had too much in common to completely ignore, but Damen kept it mostly to work, not trying to find more out about Auguste after hours. Damen assumed he lived a life similar to his in Ios, and he didn't really want to fall back into that.

But it has been four months, and Damen wasn't any closer to figuring out how he was different away from his dad. And Auguste seemed cool. So did the rest of the guys at work, really. So Damen accepted the invitation, and tried to scrounge together a costume. He wasn't really one for cartoons, but he remembered watching Pokemon with his brother, and Brock seemed like an easy costume to put together. He had the brown pants obviously. He didn't need to change his hair at all. He had an orange shirt thanks to a basketball league he used to play on, and he had a fishing vest that Nikandros had given him at some point when they thought they'd get into fishing. They never went more than once, but Damen still had the vest. He wasn't sure if anyone would recognize him, so he bought a pokeball keychain and clipped it to his belt loop to complete the look.

Auguste's townhouse was in walking distance of Damen's apartment, so he arrived to his neighborhood on foot. He was glad his costume was subtle, because he really couldn't see the work crew getting very into costumes, and this ritzy area didn't seem much like a party town. He guessed Auguste would be dressed as Bruce Wayne or something like that. It's what Damen would have gone with if he was hosting back home. An expensive suit he'd wear to work, a martini glass, and the top buttons undone to reveal a bat suit underneath. Classic. But Damen didn't want to play the nepo socialite here. So Brock. Pokemon. God, he felt stupid.

When he spotted the right house number, he thought he must have it wrong. This place was packed. There were cars double parked all up the street, even more bicycles than that leaning against the porch, and people milling about outside. He could hear music coming from inside, but thankfully it wasn't ear-poundingly loud, which must have been the only concession Auguste made to his HOA, having this sort of party in the stuffy neighborhood he was living in. 

Damen walked past a group of people that probably weren't even alive in the 90s, and stepped up to the door. He knocked, thinking as he did so that there was no way anyone would hear him. 

But to his surprise, the door swung open as soon as he pulled his fist away and there was Auguste dressed as… Johnny Bravo. That was unexpectedly hilarious. Damen couldn't help the wide grin spreading on his face as Auguste greeted him with a classic Johnny Bravo pose. 

“Damen! You made it! And your Brock! What does that say about you, I wonder…”

Damen was still smiling as he stepped in. “It says I had this costume pretty much assembled in my closet already. And you recognized me, so…”

“Alright, nerd. Come in, grab a drink! Jord and Orlant are by the keg, but there's nicer stuff in the kitchen. We distract the youngins with the shit stuff in the open room, and hide our more sophisticated libations in there.”

“How do you know all these people?” Damen asked, not really wanting to ask ‘why do you know all this people?’

But Auguste just shrugged. “I don't really. I have two younger brothers, both still in college. One’s in law school, you might meet him at some point, he helps around the firm sometimes, and the other's still in undergrad. We just throw parties together and everyone invites whoever. They sort of keep getting bigger, and we have to try to contain them as much as possible, otherwise the eighty year old HOA president across the street will come knocking. I always invite her in, but she has yet to take me up on it.” Auguste looked truly disappointed about her rejection. It fit his Johnny Bravo look well. “You know some people here too though!” He continued, trying to perk Damen up. “A lot of the guys you know from the firm. Jord and Orlant, like I said. Lazar and Enguerren. The guys from the 63rd floor. Wait until you see Berenger! He's so stiff at work, but his boyfriend truly brings out another side of him. I won't spoil it, but they have a couples costume to look out for.”

Damen took this all in as he stepped inside. So Auguste had two younger brothers, and he seemed to have a good relationship with them. There was a difference between him and Damen. Damen had an older brother that he never really got along with. They were too competitive with each other, and Kastor’s resentment of Damen’s place in the company was a big reason Damen decided to spread his wings elsewhere. “I'll see if I can find them. Thanks for inviting me, man.”

Auguste gave him such a genuine smile, Damen knew he had to stop keeping him at arm’s length. Auguste was good people, and Damen was doing himself a disservice not letting him in. Auguste clapped a hand on Damen's shoulder and said earnestly, “I'm glad you came. I hope you meet some people here.”

Damen smiled back, and made his way into the party. He looked around, taking it all in. He did spot Jord and Orlant by the keg. They were Wolverine and Cyclops, their costumes looking good enough to be cosplay. He wondered if they did the convention thing. He wandered over to them to ask, and they chatted while they filled a cup for him from the keg. After he finished his first cup though, they reminded him that he didn't really need to drink that stuff and that there was better stuff in the kitchen. They pointed in the right direction, and he waved as he followed their fingers, already having a better time than he anticipated.

He wove through more people, smiling at some, but not really stopping to talk. It turned out, people took costumes very seriously here. He saw a lot of skin tight super suits from Batman the Animated Series, and even Batman Beyond, which felt like cheating the 90s part of the theme. There were characters from the Simpsons, Sailor Moon, Rugrats, Recess, and so many more he lost track. He realized he recognized more than he thought he would, which made it a lot more fun. He made a few Misty’s blush by winking at them, and had to uncomfortably detach himself from a ‘sexy Pikachu’ that was heavily hitting on him. 

He finally made it to the kitchen and found Lazar and Enguerren in there, sorting through the bottles on the high shelf. They were dressed as… Beavis and Butthead. Because of course they were. 

“Hey guys,” he said to get their attention. 

Lazar whirled around first. “Damen! You came! We had bets on whether you'd show or not. I have to remember who I owe money to.” 

Damen stood a little uncomfortably, and chastised himself again for not trying harder with this crew. “Yeah, well, I'm here.”

Lazar looked him up and down. “And you're… from Pokemon? How old were you in the nineties again?”

“Shut up, I have to be older than 3/4 of the people here.”

Enguerren nodded. “Yeah, Nicaise really outdid himself on invites this year.”

“Nicaise is…” 

“Auguste's youngest brother,” he supplied. ‘He's gotta be adopted, or else he just missed the blond gene, but you'd never know it, because he’s got a mouth just like the rest of them.”

“You know Auguste's family well then?”

“Oh yeah. It's hard not to, growing up in Arles, but I've also known Auguste since we were in high school.”

That sounded more like Damen's life again. “You too?” Damen asked Lazar.

Lazar shook his head. “I met Auguste in law school. But yeah, I know the little DeVeres. They can be wee little beasties but they're good fun. You'll like them.”

Damen wasn't sure if he'd like a family so like and unlike his own, but he’d give them the benefit of the doubt for now. He started looking at what liquor bottles were opened. 

Lazar intercepted him. “What can I make you? Let me guess… an Akielon… an old fashioned?”

Damen eyed him, “I feel like you are making fun of me somehow, but yeah, that sounds good.”

“Got ‘im,” Lazar chuckled. “But don't worry, I do make a mean one.”

Damen gratefully accepted, and made his way back into the party, armed with a much better second drink than his first, determined to talk to people and make connections. He was really warming into it, even flirting here and there, when he saw the front door open again out of the corner of his eye, and turned to look. Framed in the doorway was Team Rocket, Jessie and James. Damen smiled to himself, thinking this would be another couple with an easy reason to strike up a conversation with when he froze.

His eye had first gone to Jessie, with her stylized long fuschia hair, holding a Meowth plushie in her arms. But when his gaze moved to James, his breath left his body and he was pretty sure Auguste's 90s mix switched briefly to Handel’s Messiah's Hallelujah chorus.

James was gorgeous. Damen's brain stuttered over that fact over and over again as he took in as many features as he could. He had blue hair down to his chin, just like in the show, almost a perfect match for his deep blue eyes sitting under long pale lashes. He was fine boned, almost delicate, with a strength resonating in his sharp jawline and cheekbones. Even his nose was perfectly straight, probably never broken like Damen's own. He had a long pale neck that disappeared into his Team Rocket uniform, and Damen lamented not being able to see his collarbones. His shoulders were sharp, but wide enough to create a perfectly angular torso, cinching at his waist that Damen could only imagine under his tight black tank top under his Team Rocket crop top. Damen took a while scrolling the full length of his long legs encased in white trousers and black boots until he finally raised his eyes back up to his face. 

James didn't notice him staring, of course. Why would he? Damen was just a nobody in the sea of people, and he probably wasn't the only one staring. Damen saw Auguste go over to greet them, so he must at least know them, even though they looked young enough to be one of his brothers' friends. He watched as Auguste tugged at the ends of James’ blue hair, and Damen felt a stab of jealousy at the touch. Auguste was clearly making fun of their costumes, flicking the rose James was holding, and James rolled his beautiful eyes and nodded his head towards Jessie. 

That shook Damen out of his stupor. Right, Jessie. They would be together, right? Jessie and James? They weren't touching in any intimate way, just standing next to each other, but they wouldn't come in a couple’s costume if they weren't together. An overly optimistic part of his brain reminded him that Lazar and Enguerren had come in a ‘couple’s costume', but Damen couldn't let himself believe these two had the same type of relationship as his coworkers. 

He resorted to following them with his eyes to seek confirmation, trying desperately not to be obvious, but Damen wasn't the best actor to begin with. He tried to keep up conversations with others for appearances, but he kept losing the thread of them if James would move suddenly, frantically trying to relocate him. Once, he saw an overly buff Goku clearly trying to flirt with James, and he zeroed in on their conversation until he breathed a sigh of relief when James made some excuse to bail. Damen got more than a few funny looks, with how clearly distracted he was, and he would have to end the conversation shortly after. He definitely wasn't doing a good job of making meaningful connections, but he had already decided to be friends with Auguste, right? So if he leaves here with one friend, then that is more than he has in Arles currently.

Damen realized this fixation with someone he hadn't even met yet was probably unhealthy, but he rationalized it by telling himself he just wanted to determine if Jessie and James were together or not. They were not making it easy, however. They certainly didn't engage in any PDA, not that Damen could see anyway, but some couples were like that. Damen himself didn't love broadcasting his personal life to everyone. Jessie was never tucked up under James's arm, not the way Damen would hold James in a crowded room, but they were close in other ways. They kept separating, engaging in their own conversations, but they always came back together, bringing each other drinks, touching each other's arms, leaning in to whisper in each other's ears, sharing private smiles. These interactions spoke to some amount of intimacy between the two. 

Damen had just about given up on ever understanding what they were to each other when he spotted James talking to a tall redhead dressed as the pink Powerpuff Girl and next to him was - wait, was that Berenger dressed in the monkey suit with the cape? Really? Stuffy Berenger was Mojo Jojo at this party while his boyfriend traipsed around in a mini dress with a big bow in his hair? Auguste was right when he said Damen wouldn't believe it. But this also gave Damen the best opportunity he'd had to talk to James all night! He would just greet Berenger and start talking to him while James talked with his boyfriend. And when Berenger and his boyfriend inevitably wanted to break off together, Damen could start talking to James organically. This was a much better plan than the one he had currently building in his brain, where he just marched up to him, no context, and told him he was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and by the way does he like men, and also is Jessie his girlfriend?

Yeah, talking to Berenger first was a much better idea.

Emboldened with the plan, Damen made his move over to the small group. 

“Berenger! Is that you? Oh my god, Auguste said your costume was unbelievable, but I almost didn't recognize you!”

Berenger turned away from the other two to receive him. “Damen! I wasn't sure if I’d see you tonight. I'm glad you decided to come.” 

Damen rubbed the back of his neck, feeling self-conscious again for being antisocial. He felt even more sheepish for engaging in this conversation just for a hopeful introduction to his new obsession.

James and the redhead had glanced in his direction when he joined their circle, but went back to their own conversation, so he tried to keep his focus on Berenger. His eyes only flicked to James a few times, sometimes snagging on the shape of his lips when he was talking. He was even more gorgeous up close. Here, Damen could see his practically translucent skin, and wonder if his cheekbones could actually cut glass. He was still holding that ridiculous rose, constantly turning it in his long elegant fingers. 

Damen was responding to something Berenger said, when the redhead reached for James’ undershirt, lifting it to expose a flash of creamy skin, and Damen promptly lost his train of thought again.

“But it would be sexier without the undershirt!” he heard the redhead protest, as James shoved his hand away. “Ber, tell him he'd be hotter in just the crop top.”

“I am absolutely not saying that,” Berenger said, thankfully not noticing Damen trailing off amidst the commotion. 

“The theme wasn't inaccurately sexy 90s cartoons,” James retorted. “This is accurate to the source material.”

“But it's implied!” the redhead continued. “Look,” he gestured towards Damen, “he got the memo! Look at that extra tight shirt over those muscles.”

Damen instantly blushed at the sudden attention he wasn't ready for, but he did notice James’ gaze drop to his arms which made him flexy reflexively. “It's a couple years old,” he muttered. 

“Mm, good choice,” the redhead eyed him appreciatively. “Doing anything for you?” he asked James again. “Didn't you have a massive crush on Brock when you were a kid?”

Now James was blushing and Damen preened. He was entranced by the pretty pink shade. “I was six!” James defended himself. “And Brock was - kind. And - nurturing.”

Damen felt himself smiling at the sweetness of it. 

“Mm, yeah,” the redhead went on, “protective. A real daddy. Besides, you've always gotten off on the straight presenting ones.”

James ran his hand down his now burning face. “That's not even - that's not even true. I'm getting another drink.” 

Damen's heart sank as he watched James turn on his heel and walk away. They hadn't been properly introduced yet. He was pretty sure they hadn't even spoken directly to each other.

There was nothing he could do about it now, though. While he despaired the missed opportunity, Berenger introduced him to his boyfriend, Ancel, and Damen was stuck making small talk while James was lost to the crowd. 

At least Berenger and Ancel turned out to be fun to talk to, and they ended up exchanging numbers so Ancel could show Damen around some of the better night spots in town. Feeling like it wasn't a total loss, even though James was starting to feel more and more like a white whale, Damen started to make his way back through the house in search of a bathroom. 

He stumbled into the kitchen first where a couple of ninja turtles pointed him down a hallway. There were more than a few doors down the hallway, but Damen figured anything off limits would be locked, so he didn't hesitate to open the first door he came to. 

The darkness of the room took him slightly off guard, coming from the bright party, but he could hear sounds, and yep, oops, people were definitely hooking up in here. Damen started to make a hasty retreat when his eyes started to adjust and he caught a flash of fuschia. 

“Jessie?” He asked, clearly not thinking straight, because who in their right mind would address someone they did not know after they barged in on an intimate moment? But his eyes were adjusting and taking in more of the scene, and Jessie's partner was thick, and feminine, and decidedly not James.

“Um, Brock?” Jessie responded, very confused why someone besides her partner was speaking to her right now.

Damen, the fool that he was, figured that as long as he had her attention… “Where's James?”

Jessie still looked confused, but much less startled as she straightened herself out, and her partner, Rogue from X-Men, sat back on her heels. “Not here, obviously.”

Damen didn't know how to ask what he wanted to. He wanted to ask if they were together. Are they in an open relationship? Is Jessie cheating on him right now? All too personal for someone he doesn't even know. So he tried nonchalance. “Should he be?”

Jessie looked a little dumbfounded that Damen was still talking, but she didn't look defensive of the question. Instead she fixed him with cool eyes, and said, “I think we have enough voyeurs here, don't you?”

Damen's face heated as the realization of what he walked in on and how he was still standing there washed over him. “Right, sorry, I'll- I'll just go then,” he mumbled as he backed out of the room and closed the door. He heard the lock slide into place after he closed it. They probably should have done that to begin with.

Remembering he was looking for the bathroom, Damen tried the next door. Locked. As it should be, he thought to himself. The next door opened to the highly anticipated, brightly lit bathroom. Relieved, Damen barreled in, then froze just past the doorway. James. James was washing his hands. Damen's eyes greedily took in as much as he could. The blue hair falling in front of his face. Shoulders hunched, posturing towards the running water. The curve of his lower back, outlined in the tight black under shirt, leading to the swell of his arse, cocked as it was with him leaning towards the sink. Long legs in white trousers with black boots. Damen took it all in and then scrolled back up to see James had an eyebrow cocked at him.

“Um, occupied?”

Damen flushed. God, where was his social literacy tonight? And why didn't anyone lock their doors? “Right, sorry,” he exclaimed as he tried to back out, “I'll just-”

“It's fine,” James reassured him, turning off the tap and reaching for the towel. “I'm just finishing up. Honestly, I always screw up that lock. It's one of those nonsensical ones whose toggle being up and down means locked, and side to side means unlocked, I guess. Come on in.”

Damen did and let the door close behind him, still not locked though. “Should I surrender now or prepare to fight?” When James once again lifted his brow at him, Damen rushed to explain, “it's from the-”

“The Team Rocket oath. No, I got it. Vannes made me memorize it for tonight.”

It was Damen's chance to find out who this Vannes was to James. This Vannes who was hooking up with a woman two doors down, and didn't seem concerned about James knowing. That should have been enough evidence, but Damen had been cheated on before and didn’t want to assume anything. “And Vannes is…” he prompted.

“Jessie.” Damen mentally thunked his head. He had figured out that much at least. James went on, “I think she was picturing a more dramatic entrance. Like the door swings open, everyone looks, we strike a Rocket pose and recite the oath. And then… everyone claps, I guess? I'm fuzzy on how we were supposed to stick the landing.”

Damen laughed and helplessly stepped closer. “I think more than a few people noticed your entrance anyway. I watched you both for a bit afterwards, trying to figure out if you were together.” James didn't need to know how much of an understatement that was.

James smirked at that. “Isn't that what everyone wondered about the cartoon versions?”

That still wasn't an answer. Damen was working himself up to just ask, but said instead, “accurate to the source material,” echoing James' comment from before.

James seemed to get the reference to their almost conversation, because his smile became more genuine. “She originally wanted to gender bend them. Have me in Jessie's outfit and her in James'. I had to fight her for the pants. To Ancels dismay, I'm sure.” Damen’s mouth watered at the thought of James in thigh highs, a mini skirt, and a crop top. 

“I can imagine.” His mind was doing nothing else but imagining it.

“She did win the rose battle though,” James picked up the rose he had put to the side of the sink while washing his hands. “I've been carrying this stupid thing all night. Pricked myself more than once already too.”

Damen stepped in close enough to touch, and gently took the rose from James. He took out his keys, which had a bottle opener attached, and used it to remove all the thorns on the stem. Once finished he handed it back to James. “Do you guys argue a lot?”

James flushed slightly receiving the rose and Damen's heart soared. “Thank you,” he said. “And I guess? We're both pretty opinionated. Never over anything high stakes though.”

Damen shuffled just a little closer, almost enough that he could feel the heat off James' body. He saw James' gaze dip briefly to his chest before flicking back up to meet his. His breaths felt shallow as he probed for what he needed to know. “Must make dating pretty exciting.”

At this range, James had to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact. Damen was lost when he blinked up at him, drowning in the deep blue, almost purple shade that matched his hair so well. “We're not dating.” Finally, Damen had his answer. “Funnily enough, she was my first kiss, but,” James licked his bottom lip, and Damen's eyes tracked the movement, “we’re both, um, too gay to be each other's type.”

Damen felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. James was available. He liked men. He was close enough to kiss, and he was looking at Damen's mouth. “And your type is… Brock? According to Ancel at least.”

James rolled his eyes, and shoved Damen lightly in the chest. Damen grinned at the indignant reaction, stepping back. “Did you come in here for a reason?” James asked dryly.

“Had to piss,” Damen answered, still grinning. 

“Well then,” James waved towards the toilet, and made to leave Damen in peace.

Panic flooded Damen at the thought of losing James to the crowd and never seeing him again. “Wait!” he called, too urgently for the circumstances. It got James' attention though. He turned a questioning look back to Damen. “Where - where can I find you again? When I'm done.”

James looked consideringly at Damen for a second before answering, making Damen unaccountably nervous. But then he just leaned back on the vanity counter. “I'll just wait here then.” 

Damen looked back at him. “While I pee?”

James leveled a challenging look at Damen. “Are you shy?”

Damen smiled back. He was decidedly not shy about nudity, and he certainly didn't mind putting on a show if James was watching. His hands fell to his fly as he stepped up to the toilet. He was still a little hard from the previous proximity to James, which was going to make pissing a little tough. But Damen didn't mind, because it made for a better eyeful when James snuck a peek, widening his eyes.

When Damen finished up, James was looking forward again, arms crossed over his chest, expression indifferent. Damen stepped close to wash his hands, sides touching, facing different directions. James didn't move away, still leaning back against the counter. 

Damen turned off the tap, and reached around James' body to grab the towel. They held eye contact while he dried his hands, and then he reached back around to hang the towel back up, letting his hand fall to the counter when it was done, caging James in.

James seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for Damen to do something, so Damen lifted one hand off the counter to run his knuckles along James' jawline. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

James searched Damen's face for a second, like he was checking it wasn't a joke, so Damen let all of his earnest desire show through. Then James nodded, and Damen lifted his other hand to the back of James’ head, and brought their lips together. 

From the first contact, Damen felt complete, like every decision he'd made since deciding to leave his father's company, since coming to Arles, had led him to this moment. His whole body relaxed into the kiss, languidly exploring James’ lips, emptying of tension from uncertainty, and slowly filling back up with the electric tension of this connection.

James had kept his hands gripping the edge of the counter at the beginning, but now they lifted and started to explore Damen's back and arms, ramping up Damen's desire. He touched his tongue to the seam of James’ lips, and when James opened for him, he deepened the kiss like they had done this a hundred times before.

Every part of them that was touching was on fire, and Damen wanted to feel more. He tangled one hand in James' blue strands to hold their mouths together, but his other hand went exploring down James' torso. He felt broad shoulders, and a strong chest, pausing over James' left pec. He ground the heel of his hand over James' nipple as he kept moving, and James broke apart with a gasp. God, so sensitive. Damen promised himself he would explore that later, but he was moving too fast to stop now. James was still taking deep lungfuls of air, so Damen shifted his attention to James' neck as he dragged a hard palm around the dip of his waist to the curve of his hip. 

As he stretched his fingers to palm James' ass and lavished attention on the tendon in his neck, James tipped his head back and groaned. Suddenly, Damen needed to hear his own name come out of that sweet mouth. 

“Damen,” he gasped as he broke off from the spot he was so tenderly applying his affection, “my name is Damen. Damianos.”

James straightened his head and blinked back at Damen, eyes a little glazed, hair mussed, and lips pink and swollen with kisses. Damen's heart squeezed at the sight.

“Damen,” James repeated back to him, and Damen rewarded him by seeing to his sensitive neck again. “Damianos,” James groaned when Damen suckled on just the right spot below his ear. 

“Yes,” Damen praised against his skin, and then he wanted to return the favor, so he broke off again to ask James his real name. James groaned in frustration at the second stoppage, and Damen couldn't help but grin at the reaction. “What's yours?” James frowned at him, not understanding the question, so Damen asked again gently, “what's your name?”

“Oh,” James softened, “Laurent.”

“Laurent,” Damen practically growled into his mouth as he dove back in for more. With his hand still on Laurent's ass, he fitted their hips together so Laurent could feel how hard Damen had gotten just from this. Damen hadn't gotten this hard from just making out since he was a teenager, but every part of Laurent felt perfect in his hands, like he had crafted him from clay himself, and Damen was losing his mind over it.

Laurent lifted his hips, and Damen felt the answering hardness there. They broke apart just enough to separate their mouths, leaving their foreheads together, feeling each other's pants against their swollen lips. Damen rolled his hips against Laurent’s slowly, so slowly, and Laurent whimpered into their shared air.

He slipped his hand under Laurent's shirt, massaging small circles into his lower back, trying to calm them both down a bit. Laurent melted into his chest at the touch, limbs losing all rigidity, and trusting Damen to hold him up while continuing to rub him. Damen huffed a quiet laugh at the suddenly pliant man in his arms, stirring the blue strands at the top of his head.

He held him for a minute as their heart beats slowed down and started to beat as one. He was just about to ask if Laurent wanted to take this somewhere else besides the bathroom of a crowded party when someone rapped a quick knock on the door and barged right in. 

Right, they never locked the door.

“Occupied?” Laurent tried again, but the man looked unimpressed.

“There's a line,” he said, a little judgmentally.

Laurent turned away from the intruder without acknowledging him again, and looked at Damen consideringly. Damen watched as he weighed unknown options in his head and then came to some decision. Damen held his breath, waiting for the judgment. “Do you want to take this somewhere else?” he asked, taking Damen's hand in his.

Damen's heart leapt into his throat at the suggestion and he nodded enthusiastically back, because really, he'd follow Laurent into battle for two kingdoms at this point already. Laurent gave him a smile he would never forget, squeezed his hand, and then led him out of the bathroom past the not insignificant line that had formed while they occupied the bathroom. 

“Brock and Team Rocket, huh?” someone muttered as they passed. “That's a rare pair.” 

Damen beamed at the commenter, pleased as could be to be recognized as a pair with Laurent.

Laurent stopped at the locked door Damen had previously tried on his hunt for the bathroom. He watched, bemused, as Laurent fished a key from his pocket and unlocked it. 

“Do you live here?” Damen asked, shocked at the thought.

Laurent looked back at him. “No, I have an apartment by the university.”

“Are you… close to Auguste then?” Damen tried to keep the jealousy at bay that Laurent would be close enough to Auguste to have keys to his place.

Laurent looked confused by the question, but just shrugged. “I've known him my whole life.” He opened the door and tilted his head to indicate Damen should follow him in. Helpless to do anything else, Damen hurriedly followed.

“And he just… hands out keys to his house?” Damen needed to understand this relationship. He wanted to be Auguste's friend, right? Was it a good start to involve himself with his… situationship?

Laurent’s mouth was tilted up as he went on his tiptoes, placed his hands on Damen's shoulders, and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth. “Someone has to watch the place when he goes out of town. Lock that, please,” he added, indicating the door as he pulled away, deeper into the room. He flipped on a lamp, so Damen left the lights off as he closed the door and locked it. 

“Doesn't he have brothers?” He grumbled, making sure the door was locked this time.

He could hear the laugh in Laurent's voice as he answered, “yes, two.” 

Damen had to decide quickly if it was worth pursuing this connection with Laurent while he still wasn't sure of the extent of his relationship with Auguste. There was no way at this point he wouldn't pursue eventually, but should he hold back until he knew more? Talk to Auguste first? Laurent had to be close to ten years younger than Auguste, but that didn't mean a whole lot. They had known each other since they were kids, so maybe that meant more. 

He turned around, fully meaning to ask the important questions, but was stunned silent when he saw Laurent taking off his shirt by the bedside. His mind blanked of anything else, except a cadence of worth it worth it worth it, as he took in Laurent's body in the soft light of the lamp. The glow turned his pale skin golden, pink nipples perked up from the sudden chill. His muscles moved as he worked the top and under shirt over his head, and Damen's mouth went dry as he watch him discard them on a nearby chair. 

Laurent raised an eyebrow at Damen as he dropped his hands to his fly, and started toeing off his boots. Damen knew he was staring, but couldn't do much more than swallow as he watched the boots come off, and Laurent put them neatly by the same chair. 

“Are you going to join me?” Laurent asked with his fly hanging open, and his thumbs on his waistband.

Damen reacted quickly to that, getting his clothes off embarrassingly fast, paying no mind to whichever way they landed, and making it over to Laurent before he had even gotten his pants down. 

He took Laurent's hands in his and placed them around his neck, and circled his own around Laurent's bare waist. He bowed his head to touch their foreheads together again, and reveled in their closeness. “What do you want?” he asked softly into the scant distance between them. He knew as he asked it that he would give Laurent whatever he wished.

Laurent's hands did not stay around Damen's neck, instead mapping Damen's newly naked chest and arms. Damen's eyes dropped to the touch, watching Laurent’s long, pale fingers on him.

“To get to know you more,” Laurent answered simply. “To feel you.”

Damen could definitely get on board with all of the above, so he bent down to sweep Laurent off his feet with one arm under his knees, and the other under his back. Laurent made a surprised noise that turned into a laugh as he wound his arms back around Damen's neck. 

“I'm not typically made to feel so dainty,” he laughed. “But I guess in comparison…” he squeezed Damen briefly in acknowledgment. 

“You're perfect,” said Damen honestly, nuzzling his face into the side of Laurent's. He turned them, and laid Laurent gently on the bed. “Anything you want. Nothing you don't,” he assured him as he climbed on after him. Damen was already stripped down to his underwear, and Laurent's pants were still undone. Damen traced his fingers over the waistband. “May I?” he asked, watching Laurent's face. 

Laurent nodded, so Damen hooked his fingers under the fabric, and pulled them down, revealing the briefs beneath. Laurent had softened slightly since the grinding in the bathroom, but he was still showing visible interest in the proceedings. Laurent lifted his hips and feet when necessary, and soon, Damen was tossing his pants near the chair where the rest of Laurent's Team Rocket costume was. 

His breath caught in his throat when he looked at the vision spread out beneath him. He was sat back on his heels at Laurent's feet, and he wasn't sure what he was allowed yet. “You’re beautiful,” he said helplessly, like he was confessing a secret, “I can't believe you're real.”

Laurent sat up then and put a hand to Damen's cheek. Damen leaned into the touch. He needed the reassurance all of the sudden. “I'm real,” Laurent assured him. He gently squeezed Damen's upper arm. “and so are you.” He trailed his hand down Damen's arm until he captured his hand in his own. He placed Damen's hand on his hip, right over his briefs, skin to skin. “You can touch.”

Damen’s fingers flexed on Laurent's skin, and he leaned in to capture his mouth, slow and deep, returning to the exploration they had started in the bathroom. “Anywhere?” he asked, not moving his hand until he had confirmation.

“Anywhere,” Laurent confirmed, and Damen started leaning him back against the bed. He was almost overwhelmed with the options presented. He wanted to touch everything, feel and taste everywhere. He didn't know where to start. 

He needed to ground himself back in their connection, so as he crawled up Laurent's body, he settled his weight over him, blanketing his body with his own, keeping some weight on his knees and one elbow so as not to crush him. He sunk back into the kiss, exploring every part of Laurent's mouth for long minutes before he was ready to move on. 

When he pulled back he reminded Laurent, “tell me if there is anything you don't like.”

Laurent smiled back at him. “I will. And you too?”

“Me what?” Damen asked, confused.

“You'll tell me if I do something you don't like,” Laurent clarified. 

Damen's heart sang at the sweetness of it. Never had any of Damen's previous partners been concerned about crossing a line with him. Damen was sure he seemed pretty hardy to others, and he was mostly tasked with finding his own pleasure, while bringing it to his partners. Laurent's simple question showed more concern for Damen's comfort and pleasure than he had previously experienced.

Damen's eyes stung at the thought, and he buried his face into Laurent's neck to hide the onslaught of emotion brimming there. “I will,” he answered him, words muffled against Laurent's skin.

The vibrations tickled Laurent, and he laughed. “Good,” he said, turning towards Damen's ear. “I'm not sure I’d do very well shooting in the dark. I'd hate to be a disappointment.”

Damen turned his head to look into Laurent's eyes. They were so close, he could count the long pale lashes there. “I don't think you could ever be a disappointment to me,” he said earnestly.

Laurent smiled back at him. “We'll see,” he said playfully, but Damen thought he heard an undertone of sadness there. 

“Truly,” Damen went on, lifting up so he was looking down into Laurent's face again, “you've already blown my mind with a make out session and a little dry rubbing. If we did nothing more tonight, I would not be disappointed.”

Laurent lifted his arms around Damen's neck again. “I don't want to stop,” he said, and he lifted his head to place a kiss on Damen's chest. “Do you?” he asked as he trailed kisses across Damen's collarbone and up to his neck.

Damen groaned, tilting his head back. He was so turned on by everything Laurent was doing to him, he was in danger of just frotting his hard cock against Laurent's body hard and fast until he spilled in his boxer briefs. 

He pinned Laurent back down to the bed, burying his face back in Laurent's neck and sucked a few kisses down the side of it. “No,” he admitted in between kisses, “I never want to stop. I could live in this bed, if you promised to never leave me.”

Laurent's laugh was music to Damen's ears. “What would Auguste think?” Laurent wondered, and for once Damen didn't care what Auguste would think of this.

“Does it matter?” he asked as he pressed kisses to the underside of Laurent's perfect jaw.

“Mm, no,” Laurent answered, almost wistfully. “I don't think anything matters right now except what you are doing with that mouth.”

Damen lifted his head again to grin down at a dreamy looking Laurent. “Let me show you what else it can do,” he said, cheekily.

Remembering his promise to himself earlier, Damen moved down Laurent's body in search of his nipples. By the time he landed a few meandering kisses across his chest, Laurent's nipples were taut and straining for attention. 

At the first soft kiss Damen placed over one of them, Laurent gasped and threaded a hand through Damen's hair to grab at his curls. Damen smiled to himself, Laurent was just as sensitive here as he had guessed. 

Damen then flattened his tongue over it, flicking the nub with the tip as he licked it. Laurent reacted beautifully, hand tensing in Damen's hair, breath hitching in his throat. Damen lavished the nipple with attention, using teeth, tongue and wet suction to elicit new reactions from Laurent. When he moved to the other one, he made sure to keep a constant pressure on the first with thumb and forefinger, twisting occasionally when it would start to feel neglected. 

Damen lost himself to the task, spending an indeterminate amount of time plying Laurent's nipples with constant attention, following the cadence of Laurent's gasps, the twitches of his body, and the involuntary tugs on Damen's hair. It was only when Laurent's body started shaking under him that he realized what was going on.

He lifted his head and stared up at a completely debauched looking Laurent, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, and head thrown back with one arm thrown over his eyes, and the other still in Damen's hair. “Can you come from this?” Damen asked, awed at the thought.

It took Laurent a second to realize Damen was speaking to him, and he lifted his arm to open just one eye to verify Damen was waiting on a response.

“What?” he asked, clearly missing Damen's question.

“Can you come just from nipple stimulation?” Damen asked again.

Laurent lifted his arm fully off his eyes and gave Damen a confused look. “No?” he said, “of course not.”

Damen looked down again at Laurent's tightly coiled body, his dick so hard its head was poking out of his briefs, leaking onto his stomach. He was willing to bet his inheritance that he could get Laurent there, given a couple more minutes at his chest. But there was still so much of Laurent's body to explore, and Damen's gaze had caught on Laurent's pink, leaking head.

“Hm,” Damen said, leaning down again, “we'll have to come back to that later.” He dragged his nose down Laurent's stomach, and licked at the leaking fluid there. He followed the trail to the head, and lightly closed his mouth over the exposed tip, tongue chasing the source to the slit.

Laurent's hand in Damen's hair suddenly tugged sharply, and Damen was pulled off the sweetest tasting nectar he had ever known. “Okay?” he asked quickly, thinking he might have crossed a line.

Laurent had gone up to one elbow, his other hand still making sure Damen's head stayed where it was. He was breathing heavily, body taut, wide eyes boring into Damen's concerned ones.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “okay. But if I let you do that any more, I'm going to come.” 

Damen smiled warmly at him. “I was kinda hoping you would,” he said reassuringly.

Laurent huffed a laugh. “You can play later, I promise. This first time, I want to come with you. Preferably with you deep inside me.”

Damen's mouth went entirely dry as he stared at Laurent. “Uh, yeah,” he stammered out, “yeah, yes. I- I want that too.” He scrambled to his knees. He had a condom in his wallet, which was in his pants, which were… somewhere. But no lube. He needed to started packing those travel size lube thingies in there. “Do you have any supplies?” he asked Laurent, entirely too hopefully.

Laurent threw one arm out to the side. “Nightstand,” he said, gesturing.

Damen stretched out to tug at the drawer, and sure enough, condoms and a bottle of silicon based lube were nestled in there. It surprised Damen how much it prickled him that this was here, to Laurent's apparent knowledge, in Auguste's house. 

“You seem to know this room well,” Damen probed, “do you do this often?”

Laurent didn't seem to sense the uneasiness in Damen at the question, or he wasn't bothered by it. “This is my room when I stay here,” Damen's heart kicked up at the explanation, “Auguste stocks it, but no, I've never actually had sex in this house.” 

Damen hadn't realized quite how tense he was until his whole body relaxed. That didn't exactly clear up what Laurent's and Auguste's relationship was, but it did clear up what it wasn't. Satisfied, Damen grabbed an extra large condom and the lube, and settled back between Laurent's legs. 

He sat back on his heels and pulled Laurent's hips over his knees, draping his legs around his waist. He looked into blue eyes surrounded by blue hair, and asked softly, “How do you like it?” feeling like he was at the altar of something reverential. 

Laurent looked up at Damen and lifted his hips slightly. “Like this?”

Damen smiled again, “like this, then,” and he started to pour the lube on his fingers. He rubbed them together, trying to get some warmth in them, before grasping Laurent's cock in one hand, and trailing the other over his balls, and across skin to his crack.

He pulled a cheek to the side to get a glimpse at what he was searching for, and his mouth started to water at the sight of Laurent's pink hole.

Laurent shifted a little, uncomfortable with the attention, so Damen set to work, circling the tight muscles with a lubed finger.

“Perfect,” he breathed, as he started to penetrate, and Laurent's body accepted him with ease. His first digit was sucked in, and Damen felt nothing but soft, wet heat surrounding it, tight to him like a glove. He couldn't help the giddy smile as he looked up at Laurent's face, fascinated with the comfort of it. 

Laurent raised his eyebrows. “Excited, are you?”

Damen laughed. “No - well, yes, but - you just feel so perfect. Every part of you fits so right with every part of me. Your thigh in my hand, your ass on my finger, it just… feels like we were made with the other in mind.” Damen blushed, though he hoped the dim light would hide it. “And that was ridiculous. And sappy. Apparently touching you also disables my filter.”

Laurent reached out an arm to grab Damen's hand on his thigh, and encouraged him to make eye contact again. He gave him a warm smile. “I like your earnestness. It makes this feel… real.” He let his hand drop after a last squeeze. “And it feels good. I like what you are doing to me.”

Damen's chest inflated with pride, and he added a second finger, twisting them to ease the way, and then scissoring them to stretch Laurent out. They were sliding easily in and out when Laurent started rocking into him, and he added a third finger. 

“Oh!” Laurent called, barely more than a whisper, but it got all of Damen's attention. Damen stilled, with his fingers angled up inside of Laurent, and Laurent fixed him with a bright stare as he rocked back and forth, dragging Damen's fingers over the same spot over and over again. Damen was mesmerized for a second before he got the hint and applied his own pressure and quick movements to give Laurent what he needed.

Laurent was riding his fingers now, chasing something before his hips faltered, and he gasped out, “now, Damen. I'm ready now.”

Damen had planned on opening Laurent up further before entering himself. “Just let me -”

“Please, Damen. I need it now. I need you,” Laurent pleaded, and he looked so wild, Damen couldn't do anything but agree. 

“Okay,” he said, trying to gentle both himself and Laurent with his tone. “I'm here. I've got you.” Leaving his fingers in Laurent, he spread them as wide as he could to get a final stretch. He used his free hand to grab the condom, ripped it open with his teeth, and rolled it down his almost painfully hard cock.

He gently removed his fingers, and Laurent let out a whine at the loss. Damen shushed him as he lay Laurent's hips back on the bed. He lubed himself up quickly, and then hovered over Laurent's body, lining himself up with Laurent's entrance. “Shh, it's okay. I'm here. I'm ready.”

Laurent was holding his breath, and let it out as a show exhale when Damen started to push in. Damen forced himself to do a slow, but continuous glide to make it as comfortable as possible for Laurent. When he was about halfway through, Laurent reached for his shoulders and upper arms and started massaging the tense muscles there. It was such a caring and attentive gesture, Damen's heart almost broke at the sweetness of it.

When Damen finally bottomed out, they both stilled their movements, adjusting to their connection. Laurent started to move first, linking his arms around Damen's neck, and rocking back and forth up against Damen. Damen took the permission and covered Laurent with his body, mouthing at his neck, and started to thrust. 

With all the anticipation and build up to this moment, Damen had expected to fuck fast and hard to mutual satisfaction and completion. But they quickly found a slow, deep rhythm, hands mapping each other just as slowly, finding all the places they fit together. Damen was dropping wet, open mouth kisses everywhere he could reach, across Laurent's neck and chest, coming up often to drink from his mouth again. 

It wasn't just sex, Damen realized as another wave of emotion washed over him. They were making love.

“How is it possible,” Damen wondered aloud, “that it can feel this perfect, this intimate, that I can feel this close to you, and I don't even know you?”

Laurent looked up at him, hair spread around him on the pillow, eyes full of awe, and lips kiss swollen and parted with each breath. He looked like a blue angel about to hand Damen his salvation. “We can play twenty questions?” he suggested.

The offer surprised a laugh out of Damen, his movements stuttering. He assumed Laurent was joking, but the proposal was so endearing to Damen, who was already so enamored and dying to know everything he possibly could about the man who was taking him apart from below, that he quickly stole another kiss, fast but thorough, and then looked down into the eyes of the man who was currently stealing his heart out of his dick. “Favorite color?” He asked, smiling helplessly.

“Blue,” Laurent answered without hesitation. Of course, thought Damen as he took him in. It would suit him well. “You?” Laurent returned.

“Red,” Damen responded with the same lack of hesitancy, because it was his favorite color. It had always been his favorite color. His mom got him a red shirt every Christmas. But as Damen got lost in blue eyes, and fingered blue hair, he thought to himself blue might be his new favorite. He wouldn't admit that out loud though. “Red,” Damen reaffirmed, lying this time. “My turn again?” he asked. Laurent shrugged, but nodded, and Damen wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to know more about his infatuation. He was still playing with Laurent's blue locks, so he asked, “is this permanent?”

Laurent laughed, and Damen delighted in the sound. “No, it washes out. My poor shower. I'm sorry to say that next time you see me, I'll probably be back to blond.”

Damen didn't stop the grin that stretched across his face. “I think I'll survive.” He shifted his hips to thrust at a new angle that made Laurent tighten his legs around him and dig his heels into Damen's lower back. There, thought Damen, and he made sure to give Laurent a consistent grind to the same spot. “It's your question,” he prods Laurent, pulling him back from his pleasure haze. The sex was amazing, but he wasn't ready to stop talking yet. 

Laurent’s eyes snap open and he shoots Damen a quick glare before he settles back into their rhythm. “Do you believe free will truly exists?” Laurent asked, all wide eyed innocence like that wasn't a completely ridiculous question for this game. 

Damen laughed again, hopelessly charmed. He sat back on his heels, pulling Laurent up with him. He reversed their positions, so that his back was to the headboard. This position was even more intimate, Laurent in his lap and in his arms, cradled in the ‘V’ of Damen's body as he bent his knees to support Laurent's lower back. Laurent adjusted his seat to lower himself back onto Damen, hugging his hips with his knees, and draping his arms around Damen's neck for stability. They were face to face, chest to chest, and both sighed in relief as Laurent bottomed out again. Damen hugged Laurent to him, burying his face back in his neck as he answered, “of course I do. It would be pretty depressing to think we were all marching to the drum beat of an unknown drill sergeant.” What he didn't admit was how this coupling with Laurent had a sense of inevitability for him. “Favorite food?”

“Mm, chocolate croissants,” Laurent said, a little breathless as Damen started to use his leverage from his planted feet to roll up into Laurent on his downward strokes. Damen's heart swelled at the thought of feeding Laurent pastries on a lazy morning. 

Laurent's eyes were closing, breaths shortening as Damen used their new angle to reach new places inside him, dragging across an area that had Laurent squeezing his knees together on each pass. Damen nosed under his jaw, trailing open mouthed kisses. “Your turn,” he reminded him.

“Ung,” Laurent groaned, opening his eyes, hand tightening in Damen's hair. He brought them forehead to forehead with his grip, and forced himself to make eye contact with Damen as if it was his only tether to sanity left. “Where did you learn Veretian?”

Damen hadn't had someone ask him this question in the entire four months he'd been in Arles. “How do you know I'm not a native speaker?”

Laurent shifted more comfortably on Damen, and traced his lips with his finger. Damen let it slip inside his mouth, and circled it with his tongue while sucking. Laurent's eyes got wide before he answered, “your accent is near perfect, but something is off with some of your word choices. Like they seem dated, and don't match with your overall speech patterns.” He removed his finger, trailing it down Damen's neck, over his Adam's apple.

“Hm,” said Damen, not liking the criticism, but appreciating Laurent's attention to his speech. “I had a private tutor when I was young, even before I went to boarding school where it was again mandatory.” 

“Ah,” said Laurent knowingly, “you're one of those.”

Damen just shrugged, not wanting to get stuck in this part of the conversation. So he flipped it back to Laurent. “Do you know any Akielon?”

Laurent smirked, and leaned in to put his lips at Damen's ear. Damen blushed and let out a shocked laugh when he whispered the filthiest Akielon phrase Damen had ever heard. Not only was it disturbingly arousing hearing those words whispered in Laurent's accent, but it begged the question, “where did you learn that?”

Laurent sat back a bit, considering. Damen could tell he was deliberating whether to answer honestly or not, so Damen encouraged him to be truthful. “That counts as one of my questions.”

Laurent stilled his movements, arms still around Damen's neck. He broke eye contact to watch himself as he played with the ends of Damen's hair. “I do volunteer work with trafficked teens. They are understandably troubled, and they often try their best to shock me. My coworker translated that one for me.”

And, if they were sharing a different kind of intimacy, that might have dampened the mood, but with the slow paced love-making they were already sharing, Damen just held him closer, and poured more feeling into his movements to show Laurent how much he appreciated men like him in the world.

They lost themselves in each other for a little while after that, game forgotten, hands and lips tracing each other and learning each other's bodies. The only sounds between them were Damen's heavy breaths and his occasional delighted praise, perfect, so good, like that, and Laurent's hitches in breath, his sighs, his gasps, that treasured yes.

When Laurent's body became coiled tight with tension, fingers gripping Damen's shoulders, Damen relentlessly stroked the same spot inside him. “What do you need, sweetheart?”

Breathlessly, Laurent tried to stutter out what he needed, “I need - I can't - can,” starting again, he looked Damen straight in the eye, “can you make me come?”

Groaning, Damen grabbed Laurent by the waist and used Laurent's grip on his shoulders to flip them over. “Yes, please, baby, come. Come for me. Let me see it. Let me have it.”

Balancing on spread knees, Damen used one hand to push Laurent's knee up and out to the side while he thrust back into him. Filled with a sense of urgency and desperation, his thrusts were harder and deeper than before. Laurent's cock was a deep, angry pink, hard and dripping against his stomach, and Damen grabbed it with his other hand. He timed his strokes with his thrusts, all while showering Laurent in praises and encouragements. 

Laurent had both hands out, gripping the sheets for dear life, struggling to catch his breath. His eyes met Damen's as he pleaded, “I'm close, I'm - Damen.” Damen aimed Laurent's cock at his own stomach, and Laurent said his name again as he came, “Damen.” 

Laurent's eyes widened as he watched his spend coat Damen from his abs to his neck. It felt hot and possessive, and Damen loved it. He was so turned on, he followed Laurent three strokes later, groaning out his name, and filling the condom deep inside him. 

It took a few seconds to regain his senses, but when he blinked back down at the angel below him, Damen met him for a deep kiss that hopefully said everything he wasn't yet ready to put into words, covering him with his body, and smearing their mess between them.

He was still kissing Laurent when he gently pulled out, and covered Laurent's hole with the pads of his fingers to ease the sudden emptiness. He finally pulled away, and collapsed to the side of Laurent to tie up the condom and grab his shirt off the floor to wipe them up.

Laurent wrinkled his nose at Damen's use of his shirt, but was still panting as he rolled on his side to face Damen. “Do you plan on putting that back on, or are you going to ask to borrow something?” 

Damen smiled as he continued to wipe them both over, propped up on an elbow. He peeked back down at Laurent to say, “I wasn't planning on leaving again so soon.”

Laurent sighed into a more comfortable position. “One last question,” Laurent asked shyly, “Are all your first times like that?”

Damen couldn't imagine ever feeling this way again. “Laurent,” he said as he tossed the soiled shirt, lowered himself back on the bed, and pulled Laurent back into his arms, “no. No, it has never felt like that. Ever.” He tried to imbue as much feeling into the words as he could, so that Laurent could feel their honesty imprinted on him. 

“For me either,” Laurent admitted softly, and Damen came in close, stroking his nose along Laurent's, and luxuriating in idle kisses. He was about to ask what came next for them when a knock sounded on the thankfully locked door.

“Loz? Are you in here?” Auguste’s voice came through the wood. 

Damen was struggling to think how to answer - how to admit they'd commandeered a locked room in Auguste's house - when another voice joined Auguste's. “Just open it. He's probably sleeping.” Damen could then hear a key turning in the lock. 

“Occupied!” Laurent called out for the third time that night, but the door was already opening, and Damen sprang into action, sitting up in front of Laurent, sheltering him from view of the door with his body. 

A boy around eighteen with curly brown hair walked in like he owned the place, while Auguste peered over his head. Light spilled in from the hallway casting a spotlight on Damen's naked body. The younger boy smirked, while Auguste just looked confused. 

“Damen?” he asked. “What are you doing in my brother's room?”

The pieces were still forming in Damen's head when Laurent peeked out from behind his back. “Hello, brothers. I was just about to go to sleep actually.”

Right. The final piece slotted together for Damen. He had just made passionate, once-in-a-lifetime love to his coworker’s brother. The coworker he had just decided earlier this night that he actually wanted to befriend. This was… not an ideal introduction. 

Auguste was staring shocked at Laurent's head, which was thankfully all he could see. The youngest brother was still staring at Damen, and getting quite a bit more of an eyeful. 

“You must be Nicaise,” Damen said inanely. And more sheepishly, “Hi Auguste.”

Nicaise snorted, his grin doubling in size. Auguste looked back at Damen before quickly averting his gaze again. “Right,” Auguste said, “um, sorry for intruding. I, uh, we'll talk about this tomorrow.” His eyes flicked back to Damen's quickly to add, “both of you.” He then turned completely around and quickly retreated from the room.

Nicaise hung around a little longer, until Laurent threw a pillow at him. “Scat, pest!” Nicaise’s laughter was bright and loud as he swatted the pillow away.

“Whatever. Good luck tomorrow, love birds.” And then he finally left, shutting and audibly locking the door again behind him.

“Fuuuck,” Damen groaned as he collapsed next to Laurent, pulling the covers over them, and facing him once more. “I had just decided Auguste was going to be my first friend in Arles.”

“He still will be,” Laurent assured him as he came close and looped his arms around his neck. “And I can be your second,” he added shyly.

Affection bloomed in Damen's chest as he wrapped his arms around this sweet man's waist and gathered him in even closer. He fitted their foreheads together as he asked, “Just friends?”

Laurent pulled his hands back to Damen's chest, and traced his collarbone as he answered. “For now,” he said, and looked up into Damen's eyes. “We'll see how things go after a first date.”

Damen gripped Laurent tightly at the thought of being able to take him out. “Breakfast?” he asked hopefully, thinking of chocolate croissants.

Laurent breathed a laugh, and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Seeing how it's already two a.m., why don't we take a rest and make it lunch?”

Damen kissed him long and slow. “It's a date,” he murmured against his mouth. 

He let Laurent reposition himself against him, and felt as he notched his head under Damen's chin. God, they fit together so perfectly. Damen was overwhelmed with fondness. He kept his arms around him and felt Laurent's breaths deepen and even out until he was sure he was asleep. He kissed his hair, and stopped himself from whispering I love you to the crown of his head. He knew Laurent would think he was crazy if he said something like that on their first night together, but he wouldn't wait long. If he still felt the same way after a couple of weeks and a few dates, he would tell him. He felt safe with Laurent, whole. He wanted to give his whole self to him, and he believed if he did, Laurent would treat him tenderly. 

Notes:

Damen tells Laurent he loves him after two weeks of seeing each other.

Laurent plays it cool and waits three months to tell him he loves him back.

Damen buys a ring the day after Laurent tells him he loves him, but waits until it has been a year to give it to him.

Laurent of course says yes, and they live happily ever after!