Work Text:
A small figure is handing out pamphlets outside the library, wrapped in a coat which is obviously expensively tailored.
"Have you voted yet?"
The usual practice with student elections is to avoid the campaigner's gaze, claim that you've voted already, and keep walking. Hephaistion, against his better judgement, stops. He lets his eyes be drawn to the boy's face.
"No, but I'm about to. Should I vote for you, then?"
He means to be facetious, but what he gets in return is an expression of absolute, open confidence. "Yes."
"Why?"
A different sort of person might have brought his father's political credentials into the conversation at this point, but Alexander of Macedon just says, "I'm the sort of person who gets things done."
This is a conversation Alexander has had countless times since coming to university:
"Alexander!"
Alexander grits his teeth, anticipating the next line. "You knew my father, didn't you."
"Philip? Of course. A real visionary, than one. A brilliant man."
Alexander has long since grown out of meek agreement. "I'll be a better one, I should think."
He intensely enjoys the bemused smiles he gets in response.
Hephaistion can't focus in his lecture. When he looks at the slideshow projected on the front wall, instead he sees a pair of mismatched eyes, one blue and one brown.
Alexander will never let it be said that he doesn't plan ahead. He will occasionally let it be said that he plans too far ahead, but that is only because it's significantly more satisfying to hear that, "He takes after his father, doesn't he?"
One day, people will think of Alexander before they think of his father.
This is the plan:
He knows Hephaistion is in the same international politics lecture as he is. He will ask Hephaistion which assignment topic he's chosen. When Hephaistion tells him, he will say, "I was thinking of doing that one." He'll suggest that they work together. In quiet corners of the library, on the couch at his place, through coffee and late nights studying, he'll get to know Hephaistion.
After that, it's all up to Hephaistion's response.
Helmuth von Moltke is quoted as saying, "No plan of operations extends with certainty beyond the first encounter with the enemy's main strength."
Hephaistion is sitting by a window in the library. He's been there all afternoon, reorganising his notes, revising old lectures, researching, getting side-tracked by interesting papers he finds online. He enjoys research, and he enjoys knowing that his assignment will be one of the best in the class.
The square of sunlight which has been moving slowly across the floor reaches his table at last.
He looks up.
Alexander is standing in front of him, an unreadable look in his eyes.
"Have you come to study with me?"
Alexander shakes his head. He says, "How do you feel about kissing me?"
Hephaistion gives a single, startled blink. He considers carefully before he speaks.
"Let me think about that for a little while."
Pining is quite new to Alexander. He is experiencing the unpleasant sensation of feeling the way other people must feel.
Hephaistion has long, sun-browned limbs, and the slim, strong muscles of a dancer. His hair is a mass of black curls that he ties back when he's studying. He makes intelligent comments in tutorials and turns in assignments with days to spare. He has long plans and big dreams. He never sleeps in lectures.
It's probably a narcissistic thought, but Alexander appreciates seeing his own qualities in others.
Alexander is not usually given to music, but he sits in the back corner of the cafe by the library, plucking thoughtfully at his guitar and sipping coffee. Nobody who isn't at least a little image-conscious does that, and Hephaistion has spent enough time with Alexander by this point to know that his friend has passed image-conscious and reached scheming.
Hephastion drops into the seat across from him.
"Hephaistion." Alexander doesn't look up. The rhythm of his fingers alters slightly, almost imperceptibly.
There's a silence, apparently while Alexander searches for more words. "Have you come to study with me?" he asks finally.
Hephaistion shakes his head. "I've thought about it."
Alexander leans the guitar on the chair beside him. "How do you feel about kissing me?"
Hephaistion swallows. The mismatched eyes stare into his.
"Reasonably positive, I think."