Chapter Text
Florian’s plans to avoid talking to Lysander were made difficult by the fact that Lysander kept talking to him.
The groups had dinner together out at one of the local restaurants and luckily Florian was sat far enough away from Lysander that he couldn’t talk to him even if he wanted to, and instead he had a lovely meal of lobster thermidor whilst chatting with his good friends and orchestra peers, The Lorax and Jackson Wang.
But then they all had to go back to their hotel rooms to prepare for bed and Lysander kept trying to start conversations with him.
“How was your day?”
“Fine.”
“Did you have a nice dinner?”
“Uh huh.”
“I had fondue.”
“Okay.”
And finally, once he had realised the dry nature of his friend’s responses: “Are you mad at me?”
Florian paused where he was folding some of his clothes to turn and look at him. “Why would I be mad at you, Lysander?” he asked, though his tone was not particularly reassuring.
“I don’t know. You seem annoyed.”
“What an astute observation.”
“Okay, you’re definitely pissed.”
Florian only let out a deep sigh.
“Can you, like, talk to me?” asked Lysander.
Florian relented and sat down on the bed facing him. “Do you know what day it is today, Lysander?” he asked cryptically.
The other boy seemed even more confused than before, eyebrows furrowed. “Uh, Wednesday?”
“Valentine’s Day,” corrected Florian. “Got an odd delivery today, Lysander.”
He watched as the brunette boy finally understood, mouth forming to make a small ‘o’. He looked about to say something, but no words came out. “I-”
“You sent me a rose just because your friends dared you to? To humiliate me in front of everyone?”
“I wasn’t trying to humiliate you,” Lysander stuttered unhelpfully.
Florian glared up at him from where he sat on the bed.
“It was just a joke. Jesus told me it’d be funny if I did, and The Boiled One said he’d give me 100 dollars, which is enough for a new racquet, so-”
“So you’d sacrifice your friendship with me for a badminton racquet?”
“We’re friends?” Lysander asked dumbly. Florian’s eyes narrowed further. This boy was digging himself deeper and deeper. “That came out wrong. I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would upset you. I thought you’d find it funny.”
“Well, I don’t.”
Lysander ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “I guess I just don’t understand why you’re so upset with me.”
“Because I thought you liked me!” Florian said loudly.
The silence following his statement was deafening. Neither boy moved. Florian stayed unblinking on the bed. Lysander just stood above him without speaking, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “You mean, like, like friends?” was all he could come up with.
“No, Lysander, not like friends. You know, when you give someone a rose for Valentines it usually means you have a crush on them.”
“Um, yeah. I was aware of that. I just-”
“You made me think that you and I really had a chance, Lysander.”
“Hold on, a chance for what?” Lysander asked, like the dumbass he was.
Florian rolled his eyes. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”
“Probably,” Lysander replied. “I’ve been told that I’m quite oblivious.”
“I have a crush on you, Lysander Cavendish. I have for a long time.”
Lysander let the words wash over him, his mind a jumbled mess. He had never had someone confess to him before, and he had never considered the fact that Florian could like him romantically. He’d never really even had a crush himself, apart from a small period where he fancied The Boiled One, but that phase passed relatively quickly. Lysander was dumbfounded, a light blush spreading across his face at the thought of Florian and him being a couple. He had never thought of Florian that way before.
“You-”
“I’m fully aware there’s no chance you like me back, Lysander, don’t worry. I just got hopeful for a second, that’s all, but you ruined it. We don’t ever have to speak about this again. Just ignore what I said.”
“What if I don’t want to ignore it?” asked Lysander, because he really was the most stupid boy on the planet.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m not like rejecting you or anything. I’m just really confused. I didn’t think this was an option.”
“Liking boys or liking me?” Florian inquired.
“Both?”
Lysander moved to sit down next to him on the bed, putting his head in his hands. Florian turned towards him, attentive, waiting for him to speak again. “If I did like a boy, I guess it would be you,” he said after a moment.
“Thanks?” replied Florian, laughing quietly.
“You’re welcome.”
Was there a possibility that Lysander liked Florian DuPont romantically? He had always thought that Florian was the coolest person on the orchestra, his eyes kind and his smile bright. His hair was a beautiful shade of black, like the night sky. Maybe Lysander did like boys…
“Why?” asked Lysander vaguely, breaking the comfortable quiet which had settled.
“Why what? Why are you gay?” he replied, smiling in an amused fashion.
“No, I mean, why do you have a crush on me?”
“I don’t know… you’re cool and good at video games and you’ve always been nice to me when the other badminton players haven’t. And you have nice hair, I guess.”
“Really?” Lysander pulled lamely at a strand of his hair, as if trying to understand the appeal of it. “I think your hair is nice too. And you’re also… good at video games.”
Florian laughed softly at Lysander’s uncertain tone. “You’re being so awkward about this.”
“Well, yeah.”
“We don’t have to talk about it anymore tonight. It’s time to go to bed, anyway. Have some time to think about your feelings or whatever.”
“I’ve thought about it,” said Lysander decisively, removing his hands from his head and sitting fully upright again, facing the other boy.
“You have?” Florian’s voice was skeptical.
“Yes.”
“In the past two minutes?”
“Yes,” he said, again. “I like you. Maybe. I think. Yeah, no, I’m sure. I like you.”
Lysander sat there staring at Florian, the latter returning his gaze. Florian's eyes flicked down towards Lysander’s lips, then back to his deep blue eyes and back again. Lysander didn’t notice the action, but did notice when Florian slowly moved closer.
Their faces stood barely a centimetre apart from each other, noses brushing. Florian looked nervous; Lysander looked mesmerised.
“Can I…?” Florian began.
Lysander only nodded enthusiastically, not breaking eye contact. Florian responded in stride, his lips meeting Lysander’s in a small peck. It only lasted for a second, but it meant the world to them both.