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As with all of those countless moments in which Nikandros found himself questioning the direction his life had taken, this was all Damen's fault.
Damen had sprung both the basic Yale lock set into the doorknob and the deadbolt in a matter of about twenty seconds total, as if they were child's toys. There was no electronic alarm system fixed anywhere in sight once they were inside either. Despite appearing quite expensively but tastefully furnished, especially compared with many of the other one-bedrooms Nikandros had seen in this part of town, the place had truly minimal security, just as Damen had claimed.
The closest thing to 'protection' the apartment had to offer was apparently the dog that had assailed first Damen then Nikandros with its tongue the moment after they'd pushed their way inside and had shut the front door behind them. But the dog seemed far more interested in laving affection on the two unknown visitors than in acting as any kind of effective guard dog. It didn't let out so much as a low woof at having its territory invaded by strangers. It did, however, manage to stall them for nearly a minute in the hallway, looping around both their legs and just generally making an energetic nuisance of itself. When was the last time the apartment's owner had walked the poor thing? If it desperate enough for attention to be hitting up intruders for love, then Nikandros wouldn't be surprised if Damen insisted they steal the dog along with the cache of money he claimed they were there for.
Nikandros probably wouldn't even have the heart to talk him out of it, to be honest. Not if both Damen and the dog were looking at him with matching puppy eyes. Nikandros had over the years gotten very used to saying no to Damen, because someone had to. What he hadn't ever become particularly well-practised at was actually sticking to his guns when Damen stubbornly ignored Nikandros's protests and did as he liked anyway.
Nikandros wouldn't have even been here tonight if not for that particular weakness of his. He'd known it was a stupid idea to break into a place that Nikandros himself hadn't researched thoroughly. Damen had been known to miss what Nikandros considered obvious and important details when he'd set up jobs himself when he'd first taken up his current 'profession', before Nikandros had given in to the inevitable and teamed up with him to make sure he had back up. But tonight Damen had been so insistent. He'd already been on his way out the door of their shared apartment, and it had been clear that he was doing this job tonight with or without Nikandros's help. And then he'd given Nikandros that look that never failed to get Damen whatever he wanted. So even while Nikandros had still been telling Damen what a bad idea it was to run a job so spur-of-the-moment, he'd also been grabbing his coat and keys. He couldn't let Damen go it alone, after all.
Except apparently all Nikandros was going to accomplish by being here tonight would be to get caught right alongside Damen. Because they hadn't even been inside for a whole minute, and the dog was just barely calming down enough to let them get on with what they'd come here for, when they both heard the front door knob rattling ominously behind them.
He and Damen looked at each other in silent understanding for a split second before throwing themselves forward through the one open door down the opposite end of the hallway. There was no time to shut the door behind them to properly shield them from sight, for the front door was already swinging open, and whoever was walking through – presumably the owner of the apartment – would surely see the door shutting. Instead, they could only dart around the other side of the open door, letting it provide at least half a barrier between them and discovery. Nikandros pressed his back hard against the wall, while Damen stood pressed tightly to Nikandros's front, bracketing him in place so they would fit in the small space despite their respective sizes.
Though it wasn't a particularly effective hiding place, Nikandros quickly realised, as it turned out the room they'd just burst into was apparently the bathroom, and there was a wall-length mirror opposite the door. In the reflection, Nikandros could make out the motion of the door swinging open and someone pushing his way in. And if Nikandros could see them, then they could conceivably see the reflection Nikandros and Damen as well if they looked closely enough, particularly once they started flicking the lights on. It wasn't ideal, to say the least.
There would be no one left to pay their bail if they were caught, Nikandros thought. Except maybe Kastor if he were either feeling uncharacteristically magnanimous or wanted to take the opportunity to rub Damen's shortcomings in his face. Or, god forbid, Jokaste if she was the one who answered the phone call. Nikandros shuddered at the thought of dealing with her under those circumstances. He'd probably prefer to remain in prison indefinitely, given the choice.
They'd better not get caught, then.
But that was rather a tall order when the only way they could have picked a worse place to hide would probably have been if Damen had thrown Nikandros into the bathtub and climbed on top of him. Thought the idea of Damen pressing heavily down on him probably wasn't a good thing to be contemplating just then, considering.
Too late to be worried about that, though, it seemed.
Their current position left nothing about Nikandros's reaction to Damen's proximity to the imagination. How was Nikandros supposed to react, though, when Damen was rubbing his thick thigh between Nikandros's in a very distracting way? It wasn't unlike when they were sixteen and routinely pinning each other to the mat at wrestling practice, though at least then Nikandros had had the excuse of rampant adolescent hormones to justify why he'd then needed to take a few extra minutes in the showers afterwards.
He was fairly certain that Damen had never noticed anything amiss back then. He'd been too busy showing off for the tittering girls in the stands and sending sly looks in the direction of the more talented opponents from other schools during their meets to ever pay much attention to Nikandros right in front of him. Which was basically the story of Nikandros's life to date.
But Damen was clearly noticing now. The gravity of the situation was apparently somewhat lost on him, as he was vibrating with what was obviously barely-restrained laughter at his friend's expense. Nikandros glared at him, though the effect was probably somewhat lessened by the fact that Damen's face was so close to his own that Nikandros practically had to go cross-eyed just to look at him.
This was hardly the time for Damen to be acting like this was just some passing amusement, when they were surely about to be caught.
The only positive thing about their situation was that the dog had thankfully at least remained in the hallway to greet its owner rather than following the two of them and hovering by the bathroom door, giving away their location. Nikandros could see the silhouette of a person bending to rub his hands over the animal in greeting. There was more movement behind that person. Two people had arrived, apparently. That meant they were doubly likely to be spotted, and it would also make things harder if they had to force their way out.
The hallway light flicked on. Nikandros caught flashes of bright yellow before the entering individuals stepped too far down the hall for him to still see them in the reflection. At least that meant that Damen and Nikandros were out of their line of sight as well. Though it did make it difficult for Nikandros to track their progress and determine when would be best to make a move to escape. There had to be a second exit from the apartment somewhere. Probably from the bedroom for fire safety. And Nikandros would bet that second door at the other end of the bathroom led into the bedroom. But the real challenge was going to be getting past the open doorway without being spotted.
The two pairs of heavy footsteps, along with the scratching of the dog's claws against the flooring, thankfully moved off to the side rather than down the hall in their direction. Soon enough, Nikandros could hear the sounds of drawers being opened and metal scraping against metal – probably pots, Nikandros would guess by the sound of it – that would seem to indicate that they'd moved to the kitchen. At least if they were going to prepare a meal they might shortly end up with their backs turned towards the hall, or at least might be distracted enough that Nikandros and Damen could dart across the doorway unseen.
They would have to leave empty-handed, yes, but at least that would be a better end to the evening than being led away in handcuffs.
Just as Nikandros was trying to shift just enough to see if he could spy what was going on in the kitchen so he'd know when their moment arrived, the sound of one of the two people out there finally saying something gave him pause.
"Am I really going to get the silent treatment for the entire rest of the night?"
Nikandros frowned. That voice was strangely familiar, though he couldn't quite place it.
The same man continued, "I'm sorry. I really did think he might have been your type. He's nice, you know."
"He's also dull, and twice my age. If you were going to set me up with one of your friends, you might at least have had the decency to pick Berenger. I wouldn't let his dick anywhere near me either, of course, even if you paid me. But I suppose Berenger and I at least could have passed the space of a single dinner talking about books and horses rather than me having to fake an emergency to get away before the first course even arrived."
Oh, for fuck's sake, really? That voice Nikandros would know anywhere, unfortunately. He had heard Laurent de Vere's supercilious tone often enough lately that it was ingrained in Nikandros's mind wholly against his will. That would make the other speaker his brother, Auguste, Nikandros finally recognised. Lovely. Both of them were more than well enough acquainted with Damen and Nikandros that they would probably recognise even a flash of them out of the corners of their eyes. And Laurent in particular would be only too happy to set the cops on them. Why wouldn't he take his chance to get his competition out of the way?
Nikandros was annoyed enough to throw caution to the wind for just long enough to elbow Damen in the ribs, as he deserved. Thankfully Damen muffled his grunt well enough that the two men in the other room didn't hear anything.
Nikandros mouthed the words 'De Vere? Really?' in Damen's direction. Damen at least had the decency to look sheepish.
This little venture had nothing to do with money, Nikandros realised. It was either supposed to be payback for how Laurent had humiliated Damen during a job the last time they'd seen him, some two weeks ago, or it was perhaps some bizarre form of flirtation. Nikandros could never be entirely sure either way with those two.
"And I don't even think I was really his type either," Laurent continued peevishly, "if the way he was eying up some blond twink across the room before we'd even been seated at our table was any indication. Honestly, you might at least have organised for the dinner to be at his house instead of the restaurant so that I could have relieved him of a few of his more expensive possessions as recompense for having to put up with that."
Nikandros heard an exasperated sigh not unlike the kind that he often aimed Damen's way. "Tell me you didn't lift his wallet."
"Of course not. What do you take me for? He would have noticed it was gone the minute he went to pay as we were leaving." There was a pause, then: "His watch on the other hand…"
"Laurent. Torveld's my friend. We don't steal from friends."
"Don't we? I'm afraid that's a rule I'm unfamiliar with. I don't exactly have to worry about such things, you know."
"I'm sure you would have friends of your own to consider if you didn't insist on making fools out of those people who you might actually like, given the chance. Don't think I haven't noticed what you've been doing."
Nikandros was still pushed up in close enough contact with Damen to feel it when Damen startled slightly, as if surprised. Perhaps he assumed that Auguste was talking about him, considering his recent history of Laurent 'making a fool out of' him. Nikandros hoped not. There would be no living with him if he got it into his head that Laurent might actually like him. He knew Damen well enough to know that he wouldn't shut up about it by choice. Nikandros would have to gag him just to get some peace.
Which… wasn't the worst mental picture, certainly, though it was probably something better considered when they weren't trespassing in the house of someone who already seemed to have it out for them. Especially if Nikandros wanted the more prominent sign of his obvious interest to settle down any time soon.
Laurent scoffed, "And you're so sure you know who I should show any type of interest in? You thought I'd get along with Torveld."
Exasperated, Auguste said, "Yeah, alright, I know now that that was a mistake. I did apologise profusely the entire cab ride back here. Should I get on my knees and beg for forgiveness as well?"
"That would be amusing, and a good start."
"How about I instead apologise by setting you up with a challenging job instead?"
"Ah, now you're sounding like someone who actually knows what I like. Is it artwork?"
Damen perked up. Oh hell no. They were definitely getting out of here before Auguste revealed the finer details and Damen got it in his head to try for the same score and make it into a pissing competition with Laurent. Art wasn't even their forte. As they'd learned that one time when Damen had, in setting up a job, accidentally glossed over the rather important fact that their mark was a forger and the paintings they'd been set to go to great lengths to steal from him were fakes anyway.
The first time they'd met Laurent, in other words.
Nikandros had since lived to regret not stepping in and fact-checking for Damen that day just as he was regretting it again today. He really should have known better by now.
Damen looked set to remain in place long enough to listen in on the brothers' conversation, but Nikandros wasn't going to let this play out any longer if he could possibly avoid it. As far as Nikandros could tell when he tried to catch a glimpse in the mirror, neither of the de Vere men were looking their way, and they were deep in conversation. There wouldn't be a better time, most probably.
Nikandros shoved Damen past the open doorway as quickly as possible. So quickly that he almost stumbled, but he managed to catch himself. The conversation in the other room continued uninterrupted. Nikandros hurled himself across the gap as well. Still no indication that they'd been caught.
Nikandros tensed when he had to open the other door into the bedroom. He was half expecting a squeak or groan in the hinges to give them away. He wouldn't have put it past Laurent to deliberately arrange for his doors to be noisy for just such a purpose, suspicious bastard that he was. But there was nothing. They made it to the bedroom unscathed.
Damen paused at the desk in the bedroom, looking almost like he was bracing himself against it, but his hand was subtly shuffling things around. He thought he caught the quick flick of something going up Damen's sleeve. Nikandros narrowed his eyes, but they were in a hurry, so he could only file that away to think about later.
Opening the window out onto the balcony, from which they could escape down the fire escape ladders and into the alley, wasn't quite as perfectly silent as opening the ensuite door, but there was still no pounding of footsteps suggesting they'd been heard. Nikandros moved quickly regardless, just in case Laurent was aware of their presence but was opting to sneak up to surprise and probably shoot them. Nikandros wouldn't have been surprised at all if that was how this disaster of a night ended, considering how badly it was already going so far. But he was going to do whatever it took to avoid that, including practically dragging Damen bodily across the grating and down the metal ladder, since Damen for his part didn't seem to be in as much of a hurry to get away from Laurent's apartment as he really should have been.
They were out the other end of the alley and around the corner before Nikandros felt it was safe to speak up.
"What on earth was that, Damen?"
"A job."
"No, it wasn't. A job involves actual planning to minimise risks, and the prospect of getting something worthwhile out of it. What were we even really there for?" Nikandros asked. "I don't believe for a second that Laurent de Vere is stupid enough to keep his money in his apartment."
Nikandros immediately regretted implying that Laurent was in any way intelligent. Even if it was technically true. Thankfully, Damen didn't comment about it. He didn't say anything, in fact. Apparently he didn't want to incriminate himself with Nikandros. Nikandros didn't know what to make of that.
"Come on, I saw you grab something off that desk in the bedroom. Your sleight of hand could use some practice."
Damen looked surprised. Nikandros was vaguely insulted that Damen thought he wouldn't have noticed. Even if the lift had been considerably smoother, Nikandros was still fairly certain that he would have picked up on it. No one knew Damen better than Nikandros, or paid closer attention to him than Nikandros did. He wasn't about to miss a trick.
Damen grudgingly slipped his fingers up his sleeve and brandished what appeared to be his passport, of all things. His real one, by the looks, not one of the fakes. Why had he even been carrying that with him anywhere where Laurent could get to it? That was the last thing that Damen should be taking with him on jobs, unless he wanted to risk dropping it somewhere unfortunate and providing evidence of their involvement in whatever theft they'd been attempting. Damen wasn't that stupid.
Had Laurent possibly broken into their apartment first and taken it? But no, none of the tell-tale indicators that Nikandros always set up when they left the apartment, which were designed to let him know if and when there had been an unwanted intrusion, had been disturbed at any point. Laurent was good – good enough to get into Damen's personal space and pickpocket his passport, apparently, though Nikandros wasn't entirely sure how hard that would have really been when Damen was obviously so easily distracted by Laurent – but he certainly wasn't that good. Not enough to fool Nikandros.
"It's no wonder he swiped our score out from under us two weeks ago if you let him get close enough to you to lift your passport," Nikandros settled for saying.
Nikandros hoped he wasn't coming off as too overtly jealous. Damen probably wouldn't notice either way, though. He never did.
Although, was it really just jealousy to wonder how Laurent could have gotten his hands on that, of all things. Or to wonder how Damen had been able to find and grab the passport in the short time they'd had to get away? It was almost like he knew the apartment – and Laurent – well enough to be aware of exactly where Laurent would have stashed it. Though it hadn't really been hidden, had it, sitting out on a desk. Almost like it had…
Almost like Damen himself had accidentally left the fucking passport at Laurent's apartment himself. Maybe that time a few weeks ago when they'd arrived back from Prague and Damen had almost immediately disappeared for the evening, presumably with the passport still in his pocket. And of course Damen would go through all this effort to steal it back rather than just nicely asking for it as any mature adult would do with someone who they'd spent the night with, even if it happened to be someone they acted like they hated.
Nikandros gritted his teeth. It wasn't even truly unexpected. He knew Damen's type, and he'd known the second he'd first seen Laurent that he couldn't be a better fit for that type. Unlike Nikandros.
But Damen had always told him about these kinds of things. Even when it hurt to hear it, though Damen didn't seem to realise that. Even the knowledge that Nikandros was probably going to question his choice in bed partner when it was obvious that Damen had made a particularly bad decision had never stopped Damen from discussing it before, usually in much greater detail than Nikandros thought he would want to hear about even if he felt nothing but friendship towards Damen. So the fact that he'd hidden this from Nikandros surely had to mean that this time was different.
All Nikandros could assume was that this time Damen was actually serious, for once.
Nikandros hadn't really expected that, but he couldn't really complain, he supposed. Nikandros had never let Damen know that he was an option. He'd had over ten years to tell Damen that his heart raced whenever Damen sprawled half on top of Nikandros on the couch to watch a movie. He'd had multiple opportunities to confess that the reason he'd never moved out into a separate apartment despite the fact that they could both now afford to live on their own. It was no one's fault but his own if Damen had found someone while Nikandros had been dithering around wondering whether it would ruin their friendship to bring it up, and thinking there was no point in taking the chance when he knew that Damen didn't feel that way about him and probably never would, considering Nikandros was entirely different from his usual array of conquests.
That didn't mean he wanted to encourage it, though. Or to dwell on it.
Apparently he wasn't going to be given the option of just ignoring the issues entirely, though, for Damen eventually asked, "So did you happen to catch where it was that Auguste was suggesting Laurent should hit next?"
"No," Nikandros lied. He'd heard perfectly well. The bathroom had had particularly good acoustics, apparently.
Damen grinned. "Well I did."
Nikandros sighed. Of course he had. Nikandros couldn't possibly be lucky enough for him to have missed it the way Nikandros had been hoping he would.
"There are easier ways to rub his nose in the fact that you managed to retrieve something from inside his apartment than barging in on his job," Nikandros pointed out even though he knew that it was a losing cause.
"You're not going to try to tell me that you don't want to rub his nose in it too?"
Part of Nikandros did, actually, but not in the same way as he suspected Damen did.
"Besides," Damen said, "after he stole those diamonds out from under our noses like that, don't you want to give him a taste of his own medicine?"
What Nikandros didn't want was for this to become some ongoing game, so that they were constantly tripping over Laurent on every job they attempted. But he got the feeling that that particular matter was out of his hands at this point. Laurent wasn't going anywhere for a while, most likely, if Nikandros's suspicions were correct.
"Fine," Nikandros sighed. "I'll track down the specs on the gallery."
He might not be able to keep Damen entirely out of trouble – and certainly couldn't seem to keep him from searching out trouble specifically in the form of a certain blond forger-thief– but Nikandros would at least continue to keep Damen from being caught. That was the job he'd long since assigned himself, after all.
And even if best-friend-turned-protector was the only role he was ever going to be allowed, Nikandros would do it well.