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“Meeting your soul mate is like walking into a house you’ve been before– you will recognize the furniture, the pictures on the wall, the books on the shelves, the contents of drawers: You could find you way around in the dark if you had to.”
– I’ll Give You the Sun, Jandy Nelson.
"He has strangely gray eyes."
It was the first thing Peter Lukas, professor and doctor of marine biology, thought when he walked into the London University community room and saw the man.
Moving to London had been a Big Decision, but getting accepted to teach and not turning it down was an even bigger one, and God, amidst all the crippling anxiety he didn't want to make a good impression. A willingness that translated into showing up at the University much earlier than necessary just to have a chance to acclimate to the environment, schedule, and work plans before other professors arrived, but apparently he wasn't the only one with that idea in mind. .
The door had swung open soundlessly when Peter slipped inside, silent as a ghost—or as if he were always walking around in cloth shoes, a childhood habit he'd never been able to shake off—and it was with great embarrassed surprise that he caught a glimpse of the man sitting on the couch rummaging through his messenger bag in his lap. The guy looked to be about the same age as Peter, maybe a little younger, despite the streaks of gray that stood out in his stiff hairstyle.
That, plus the polished shoes and three-piece suit, made Peter and his blue sweater feel suddenly inappropriate.
The man also had the grayest eyes Peter had ever seen. Beautiful, of course, like storm clouds condensing and he could barely distinguish pupil from iris, but also cold as if—
As if he was ignoring Peter.
And the absence of a “good morning!” or any other common amenity of the kind only reinforced that. The guy had already looked straight at him at least three times and there was no dignity to even a smirk.
Snobby academics.
(Peter knew he wasn't a proper British professor. He was big, had a full beard, and lacked much of that usual intellectual grace, but that didn't make him any less worthy of other people's good manners, as his therapist liked to point out all at every damn session.)
Peter rolled his eyes and carefully deposited his backpack on the nearby table and decided to return the harshness with the same silent treatment and mind his own business. Maybe review the schedule for the thousandth time. Why, he could also act like a serious intellectual, too good for small talk with newbies.
Peter sat in the chair and roughly opened his backpack as if to prove a point.
That is, if the point was his cell phone clattering out of his backpack and smashing the screen to the floor.
"Fuck!" The man sitting on the couch jumped up, turning his head with a jerky movement “What the hell was that?!”
Peter snorted, unimpressed.
“I dropped my cell phone.”
The man frowned—perfect brows, for some reason his brain found that fact relevant—and looked in his direction with a confused expression.
"And who are you? And how… Did you get in here?”
“Peter Lukas, professor, and I walked through that door right in front of you about two minutes ago as you saw.”
The man's features twisted into what might have been amusement, and Peter felt strangely out of place, as if he was being the butt of a joke.
"I haven't seen you" The man pointed out emphatically, laughter in his voice "Which is not surprising considering I haven't seen anything since I was twelve since , well, I'm blind" And he pointed carelessly at the wooden cane– the cane that Peter, who had not seen nor noticed– that was resting by his side “But it is a pleasure to meet you anyway, Professor Lukas, my name is Elias Bouchard.”
Peter felt all the color drain from his face and with the same force return for good, his cheeks burning with sheer shame. Trust him to screw up the first interaction with a coworker in the worst possible way.
“And so,” he thought bitterly, “begins the fame of Peter Alexander Lukas, teacher and spare time ableist.”
"I'm sorry I didn't see– I mean, I didn't notice–" Peter stuttered stupidly, feeling the blush ignite up to his ears. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
The man–Elias–chuckled amusedly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with good humor. Peter felt himself relax a little, at least he didn't look angry.
“Okay, it's not like I have a plaque on my forehead.” Elias got up off the couch in one fluid motion, not bothering to pick up his cane. "What's even weirder is that I didn't hear you come in, I have very keen hearing."
“I am… silent.”
“I could see it” Elias moved towards the electric kettle with lots of buttons that rested on the bench in the living room “I'm happy to welcome you then. I'm used to having the little room to myself so early in the day, my students like to roam too much through my office to me have peace and silence there. Would you like tea?”
“No milk, two sugar cubes, thanks.” Peter cleared his throat, fidgeting nervously in his chair before remembering to retrieve his cell phone from the floor. The screen was broken but it still worked which was a relief. “I tried to get there early since it’s my first day.”
Elias hummed in acquiescence, waiting for the whistle that signals the water was hot enough as he separated two cups with clean, efficient motions.
“The new professor of marine biology, I imagine? I received the memo about the new addition to the sciences department”
"In the flesh. And which department do you belong to?”
“I teach history and literature” Elias took a box from Earl Gray and Peter mentally nodded to the choice “Occasionally philosophy.”
Peter whistled in surprise.
“Sounds like a lot.”
“I like to keep myself busy.”
The kettle whistled and Elias poured the hot water into the cups without spilling a single drop. But Peter noticed that despite the grace with which he seemed to move, that fluidity was meticulously calculated, with full awareness of his surroundings and how much space he had to spend on caution. The intensely colored eyes never fixed on anything, darting around, irreverent to what the hands did.
Half a second later, Elias returned with two steaming cups of tea and sat opposite him, placing the cups on the tabletop.
"Here."
"Thank you" Peter took the cup and sipped a little, not knowing what to do now.
Elias didn't seem bothered by his silence, and now, closer, Peter noticed that the man was…attractive. Small, slender and with full lips currently wet with hot tea. Peter ignored the little voice that muttered that the man was exactly his type because this was not the right time, nor place, nor person.
“Professor Lukas is really from London?” Elias asked curiously, “I could be wrong, but that's not your typical London accent. It looks more like the Queen's English, may the devil use her spine as a ladder to catch apples on the hell’s garden.”
Peter huffed a little, but nodded before remembering that there was no way Elias could see, so nonverbal communication was pretty much off the list for Peter “Social Disaster” Lukas.
“I come from Kent, I moved recently.”
“Just for work?”
“It was a good proposal” because it had been and Elias was just making conversation and had no interest in listening to the Tragic Arc before that “Putting the doctorate to use, I think.”
Elias nodded, leaning back in his chair.
"I understand." The man smiled a little, “Since you're already here, I'll just make my little speech: this room is for common use and feel free, but please, if you can avoid moving things around too much, I'll be grateful. Even if it is silently.”
Peter blushed, looking away.
“I already apologized.”
"And I still didn't accept it, I just said it was okay" His smile widened like the cat who took the cream from the dessert "But I think I could be convinced."
Was he flirting?
Flirting with him ?
Peter was a bit rusty, but that was flirting, wasn't it ?
"And what could I do to earn your pardon, Professor Bouchard?"
"You can take me for coffee after the classes." Elias winked playfully and Peter nearly choked on his tea because he was so weak "And please call me Elias."
📚🌊
A long, long time later, years later, in fact, when the two of them had already met and missed each other and laughed and fought. After Peter comforts Elias having a panic attack at the University bathroom. After Elias helps Peter regain consciousness after a terrible anxiety crisis before a difficult lecture and takes him home. After the house is then theirs. –
After they were each other's, Peter would curl a sweaty but satisfied Elias against his chest on a random night like any other, and he would lean over, kiss him on the forehead and—
"Love?"
“Hmm?” Elias grumbled, hands roaming over his stomach, mapping familiar territory over and over again, watching him.
“Why did you ask me out with you? That day” Peter wrapped his arm around his husband, pulling him closer, “My first day.”
Elias hummed, eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Because your voice sounded very sexy."
Peter rolled his eyes, letting out a nasal laugh.
"Oh yes?"
"Yes." Elias kissed his chest and tucked the top of his head right under his chin, hiding in that way he always did when he was about to be Vulnerable “But also because I felt deep down in my bones that if I didn't say anything I would regret it forever. I don't know, husband…You sounded like home , my home .”
Peter sighed, hugging Elias tightly, silently digesting Elias's words. Neither he nor him were much given to honeyed declarations of love or midnight confessions, so, rare as it were, they always melted them both in equal measure.
"And you also had a super sexy voice as a bonus."
Peter laughed, leaning down to kiss the insufferable man.
"I love you, you little bastard."
“Hm, you're not bad at all, Professor Lukas” Elias stole a delicate peck that narrowly missed his lips “I love you too, honey.”
In this universe, they met by chance. A series of random decisions that resulted in each other, happily married.
In this universe, there are no secret understandings or pacts, but there are bets, conflicting feelings and all the mortifying ordeal of being known, even if on stable ground.
In this universe, that's how it is.
In another–