Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Veerle rubbed his hands together, trying to massage some warmth back into them as he stepped into the Sprite Spring. A wall of heat met him, though a little of the February cold managed to slip with him through the door as he hurried back to the front counter. Why someone would want to sit outside today he couldn’t fathom, but he supposed the chance of curling up on the soft outdoor chairs with one’s partner was appealing, especially today. Valentine’s Day wasn’t something Veerle had ever thought much about, beyond laughing at Dani’s jokes of buying up all the cards at the corner store and watching forgetful partners panic. He’d never done much for the day, hence him not being particularly bothered about working it. Returning to the counter, Veerle tried to shove his hands as far into the sleeves of his knitted sweater as he could. Thankfully the midday rush had quieted, and now as the afternoon and end of his shift crept nearer, he finally found a moment to relax.

He leant against the counter, idly scanning the café for anything that may need taking care of. Emi was busy cleaning, the little heart shaped shades she’d brought in, and given a pair to the rest of the staff as well, sitting on her nose, somewhat out of place amongst the naturalistic interior. Veerle gave a small smile, shaking his head fondly. She’d only been here a little while, but already he had grown to like her and all her questions. He pushed his own glasses up his nose, somewhat bemoaning their lack of prescription, but not willing to disappoint her. His vision wasn’t so bad that he couldn’t get by, not like Maxim’s was at least. His smile widened at the thought of the man.

Glancing over to his usual table, Veerle checked to see if he was in. He doubted it, he didn’t seem the type to come out on holiday like this, and maybe he had plans with someone anyway, Veerle hardly knew the status of his personal life. His expression dimmed, and he looked down at his hands, hidden in his jumper and pressed to the counter. Maxim didn’t seem to be here today. Which was fine. He was probably at his home, which he knew the man was loath to leave despite his visits to the café, it didn’t necessarily mean he was doing something with someone. 

He’d never thought much about Valentine's Day, not until this year at least, and now he couldn’t get the thought of sitting down for a warm drink, sheltered from the cold in the cafe, out of his mind. Perhaps, more specifically, with a certain someone beside him. Sharing each other’s space, hands brushing together and occasionally entwining, and a heavy charcoal grey coat a little too big for him thrown over his shoulders. Veerle sighed, and turned to get back to work.

It may be quiet, but there were still things he could do which weren’t morosely daydreaming about his most likely unrequited crush. He pulled the portafilters from their place in the coffee machine and set about cleaning them out. Perhaps it would take his mind off his mood. 

☆☆☆

Maxim shoved his hands in his pockets, the gloves he wore not quite doing their job against the cold, as he trudged up to the door of the Sprite Spring. It was a grey day, with thick thunderous looking cloud cover, though at least the snow had stopped falling. His coat was tucked tight around him, a small package hidden in the interior pocket. Warm light and the gentle sounds of chatter spilled out from the café. Frost and condensation clouded the windows, but still Maxim could see movement from within. He hurried his step, walking uncaringly past the few people which had decided to sit outside, and pushed the door open. There was only one reason he’d left the house today, and he wasn’t about to get distracted now.

It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the brighter light and his body the sudden wave of heat that hit him. He took his hands from his pockets and began unbuttoning his coat, the thick wool a little too insulating to be worn indoors. Casting his eyes around the room, it didn’t take long for him to spot what he had come here for. 

Veerle stood behind the counter, doing something or rather with the coffee machine, not quite a frown but certainly not a smile on his face. For a moment Maxim stilled, paused midway through shrugging off his coat as he observed his… friend? Yes, perhaps they could be called friends. He wore a thick knitted sweater, the silvery grey only a few shades darker than his hair. The turtleneck reached up to his chin, and like the rest of the garment was a little too large, allowing him to bury his face into the fabric. While Maxim didn’t get most of the fashion trends of the modern age, he had to admit, the soft look the oversized sized jumper gave the often too tense barista was endearing, to say the very least. But what caught his eye more than anything was the lack of Veerle’s usual glasses. In their place sat a pair of heart shaped pink lenses, with ever so slightly tacky silver frames. They cast similar hued shadows across his cheeks, and Maxim tried not to dwell on how the illusion of a blush threatened to make an actual one rise to his face. 

Well, it was the day for it, he supposed. 

He took a moment to compose himself as he took off his coat and straightened the jacket beneath it. He neatly folded it over his arm, and wandered in, past the other customers and a young woman wearing the café’s apron and a pair of shades matching Veerle’s. It seemed they’d had a seasonal uniform adjustment. Had it been anyone else he would have rolled his eyes, as it was he smothered a slight smile. It was… well, he had to admit, it was rather cute. He wondered what Veerle’s reaction would be if he told him such. 

Glancing up he checked to see if his usual table was free, finding it was indeed empty. Relaxing a little at the notion of not having to change from his routine, he made his way to the counter. Perhaps it would have been better of him to ask Veerle for his company today, but for all he craved it, Maxim was not that brave a man. He’d just make do with whatever conversation he could garner while he worked. The thought of not being able to sit down together and hold hands and even kiss like the couples around sent a pang through his chest, but he persisted regardless, and stepped up to the till.

Veerle glanced up from his work, a polite smile on his face that was quickly placed by one far brighter, and Maxim did his best to not stare too obviously at how it tugged the scar over his lips. With no small amount of effort he dragged his eyes back up and gave a polite nod.

“Maxim! Pleasure to see you. I wasn’t expecting you today, I'll admit. I thought it might not be your thing, or, uh, that you might be… busy,” Veerle said, still smiling but awkwardness seeping into his tone.

It took a moment for Maxim to catch on to his meaning, and he swiftly shook his head. “Ah, no. No I had no plans for today, with anyone else that is. Only to come here, and see you.”

“Oh.” For a moment Maxim thought maybe Veerle had understood the implication, as he paused, eyes wide and lips parted in that awfully sweet way they did when he was surprised. But he merely smiled again, softer, only a little flustered, and said, “Well I’m glad to see you too. Are you after anything specific today? Or just a hot drink?”

Maxim sighed at the immediate return to business, but began perusing the menu displayed on the wall behind the counter as he took off his gloves. He understood it was somewhat impolite, but there was no one else at the till and this way he could speak with Veerle for longer, so he let his own bad manners slide. Veerle leaned on the counter, just a little closer to Maxim. Without thinking he mirrored the action. He let his eyes slip from the menu, and watched as Veerle pushed his silly glasses up his nose, squinting at the till without his prescription. Maxim politely held back a chuckle, though still, something in his chest grew lighter at the sight.

☆☆☆

Veerle stared intently at the screen before him, tapping random buttons to give the illusion that he was very busy and very focused on something that wasn’t Maxim slowly pulling off his gloves. Unfortunately, it was directly in his line of sight. He was leaning against the counter, propped up by one elbow, wearing his usual stern expression, though his usual sharp suit jacket had been replaced by one of a softer, thicker knit. Guessing by the coat hanging off Maxim’s arm, it was meant to remain hidden, but Veerle found he quite liked how the less structured cut softened his silhouette. How it made him seem, well, almost huggable. He tried not to dwell on the thought. Instead he found himself dwelling on the painfully slow removal of the nice leather and tweed backed gloves he wore. It always surprised Veerle how Maxim’s gradual nature could make a show of such simple action, but also perhaps it was the, in this case rather literal, rose tinted lenses he saw the man through.

His hands hovered frozen over the screen as Maxim tugged off one glove, leaving it resting on the counter, and began undoing the buttons at the base of the other. He had a few burns and scrapes on his fingers, perhaps mishaps while soldering or working with the little metal pieces he uses to make his trinkets. Maxim had shown him a few before, photos of tiny mechanical sculptures, most insects, which he apparently liked to make in his free time away from his academic work. The thought made him smile as he wondered if Maxim would have anything new to show him, and he ignored the wish to reach out and take Maxim’s hand.

The sound of Maxim clearing his throat broke him from his reverie, and Veerle looked up sharply, the slight flush he had from watching the man merely take off his glove blooming darker as he met his eyes. Maxim adjusted his glasses, the hard lines of his face softer than usual as he looked at Veerle. He gestured up at the board.

“I find myself indecisive, what is it you like? I trust your taste,” he said, and Veerle wondered if he was imagining the nervous edge creeping into his tone as he shifted in place.

“Uh, well,” he frowned, trying to think of something with enough sugar to satisfy him but not so ridiculous he would deny wanting to eat it, “How do you feel about pastries? Elyse decorated them for today, so at least they’re tastefully rather than tackily covered in hearts, but they are very nice. I like the almond croissants personally, but maybe you—”

“That sounds nice,” Maxim said, already nodding, then paused before asking, “Are you nearing the end of your shift by any chance?”

Veerle was silent for a moment, surprised by the question, but quickly checked the clock. “Uh, yes actually! But I’ll be off in, what, five minutes? Elyse can take over the front of house any time so I don’t need to stay overtime. Fin only gave me a short one today, which is a relief, it was rather hectic earlier. ”

Maxim hummed, frowning for a moment, and Veerle tilted his head at the disheartened expression that briefly flashed across his face. “Ah, so you would be tired then?”

“That depends, I’m alright for the moment, but I’m certainly not looking forward to the walk home I must say.” A curious note crept into his voice as he watched Maxim slowly straighten and nod. It was clear this was going somewhere, but as was often the case, he found he hadn’t a clue as to even the direction.

Maxim cleared his throat and fidgeted with the gloves in his hands. “Well, if you don’t want to head home quite yet, would you perhaps want to stay and talk. It has been a while since we have simply… caught up. Though of course, if you’d rather spend the rest of the day resting I will take no offence, though, perhaps you would allow me to walk you home?”

Veerle paused, mouth opening to say words but none coming to him. Was Maxim…? No. No surely he wouldn’t be. This was likely just, as he said, a chance to catch up, as friends, not anything more. It didn’t stop heat rising his face as he stared dumbly at his carefully blank expression. Maxim shifted, and a tightness began to appear around his eyes, it was enough to snap Veerle out of his shock. Platonic or not, the offer brought a smile to his face.

“How about both?” He blurted, voice airier than usual. “Have a chat here and then, walk home with me? If you have the time for it of course.”

Maxim’s shoulders loosened, and much to Veerle’s amusement, he gave what appeared to be a slight bow. “I would not have asked if I didn’t. And, yes, I like the sound of that.”

Veerle let out a small laugh at his stiff and proper manner, and hoped he wasn’t imagining the little bit of pink across Maxim’s face. It was rather hard to tell through the tint of the lenses, but he found the copper sheen they gave to his hair was rather pretty, so he elected to leave them on.

“Well, it seems we have a plan then. But, uh, sorry to move on so fast, what exactly do you want?”

Maxim chuckled and waved his hand in a vague gesture. “Whatever it is you want to have, though I do like the sound of pastry. For myself, hm, a mocha will do, with—”

“Shots of caramel and hazelnut syrup. I know,” Veerle said fondly, and Maxim shrugged in admittance. “But are you sure? I can just order my stuff separately?”

“Let me Veerle, it is no bother, and simpler this way.”

“Well, alright, I’m hardly going to complain.” Veerle nodded, maybe blushing a little, and tapped out the order. He applied the staff discount to Maxim. Given it was also for Veerle he was sure Finbar and Elyse wouldn’t complain on the odd chance they noticed.

He sent through the order, then reached over to the machine to get it started. “Well, I guess I’ll be with you in a bit.”

Maxim, for once, properly smiled. “Yes, I look forward to it.”

☆☆☆

Maxim fled back to his usual table, the tension through his body accompanied by a strange buzz. The smile on his face, far more than the slight smirk or grin he’d occasionally wear, felt unfamiliar. He did his best to school his expression. He hadn’t intended to ask Veerle to join him that afternoon, or to walk him home. Distantly he wondered if it had been perceived as it had, however accidentally, been meant. Knowing Veerle he doubted it, but he could hope all the same.

He threw his coat over the back of the armchair, his gloves down on the table, and sat down to wait. Hopefully Veerle hadn’t taken offence to the somewhat clumsy invitation, or the bad timing. Maxim’s smile dropped as he considered it. Immediately after a shift wasn’t a good time at all. He was probably tired, and had said as much. Hopefully the gift he’d tucked away in his coat would somewhat make up for it. Still, he made a note that, if he were to do this again, to plan ahead rather than acting on whims. It was a strange thing for him to do anyhow but, seeing Veerle bundled up and wearing those stupid, pretty pink glasses was… Well it had brought out some impulsiveness in him. 

Settling back in his chair, he looked over to the counter. Veerle was finishing up with the coffee machine, and passing the drinks over to the girl he’d seen earlier. They seemed to jest with each other, as she bumped him with her shoulder and he rolled his eyes while untying his apron. The little smile on his face betrayed his faux annoyance, and as was habit by this point, Maxim let his eyes slip to his lips. 

Goodness he was— He… Well, saying he had a problem was certainly one way to put the situation.

Veerle waved goodbye to the girl, who sent him an exaggerated wink as he slipped through a door labelled staff only. Maxim laced his fingers together in his lap, trying to quell the sudden warm and fluttering feeling in his chest that was making him want to twist his hands or get up and pace. It was, technically, just a catch up. That’s all he’d asked for, and all that Veerle had agreed to. The day did not have to imply anything else was going on between them.

Even if he wanted it to.

Maxim closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and straightened his jacket. Perhaps, maybe, Veerle would let this be something more, but he’d have to wait and see. For now, he had to figure out how he was going to give him the gift he’d made.

Chapter Text

Veerle tossed his apron over his shoulder as he hurried through the kitchen, face still hot from Emi’s teasing. As soon as she’d seen Maxim leave she’d siddled on over and began badgering him with questions, and not her usual one about the coffee machine or research for his studies. Rather, seeming to take a note from Finbar’s book, she’d started pestering him about his love life. Like Finbar, she received the same answer, that it was non-existent. Also like Finbar, she refused to believe it.

He sighed, shaking his head as he walked. Busy as he was, trying to move fast and bemoaning his coworker’s antics, he didn’t notice Finbar stepping out from the back room until it was too late. The head chef, the tallest and generally largest man Veerle had ever met, didn’t even budge as he ran straight into him. Veerle staggered for a moment, stopped from falling by the hand on his shoulder, and Fin chuckled.

He steadied his friend, then said in his slow drawl, “Well, you’re in a hurry to leave, is it that much of a nightmare up front? Do I need to call Peace?”

“Oh, no no, it's quiet now, although lunchtime was… Yeah. Can’t say I’ll be envying you tonight either, we have a full house,” Veerle said, pushing his glasses up from where they’d slid down his nose. “I just have somewhere to be.”

The smile on Finbar’s face widened, and he clapped him on the shoulder. “Atta boy, can I ask who?”

Veerle shrugged, confused by his sudden enthusiasm. “I’m just having some afternoon tea with Maxim. It’s nothing fancy.” 

Somehow Finbar managed to smile even wider. “Ah, the grumpy one? The one you always end up chatting to? The one you stare at all the time? Well, I’m glad you two finally did something about it, it was getting a bit unbearable.”

He stared at Fin a moment longer, taking an embarrassingly long time to realise what he was thinking.

“Oh! Oh no not like,” Veerle chuckled, face going from pink to red, “No, it’s just between friends. It’s not— We’re not— I’m not going on a date or anything. We’re just catching up. As friends.”

Finbar gave him a blank stare. “Uh huh. You’re hanging out as friends… today?”

“Yes,” Veerle said, shifting under his stare.

“Was this your idea, or his?”

“His. He asked, just now, which is why I’m in a hurry.” Veerle tried to step past Fin, but he took up the whole doorway, leaving him stuck, shifting nervously and impatiently.

“How did he ask? I just want to make sure you haven’t misinterpreted this,” Fin patted his shoulder consolingly and Veerle shrugged.

“Well, he was pretty clear. Just asked if I wanted to stay and chat with him after my shift, and offered to walk me home. We do that often enough. Hell, Maxim probably hasn’t even realised it’s Valentine’s Day, or doesn’t care about it, he doesn’t seem the type to,” Veerle sighed, “Look, I feel like, if he really wanted to, he’d just ask me straight. He’s blunt about almost everything, I don’t see why this would be different.”

Finbar gave a sigh of his own, and stepped aside. “Alright, I still have my doubts, and I still think you two need to get your shit together, but go on. Don’t want to be late to your totally not a date with your totally not crush,” he said, a teasing tone creeping back into his words.

Veerle sent him a mock glare as he hurried past. “Yeah yeah, like you and Elyse weren’t just as bad or worse.”

Finbar said something in reply, but Veerle was already out the door, finding the closet mirror to fix his appearance.

☆☆☆

Maxim was turning over the small box he’d hidden away in his coat, checking the exterior for any signs of damage, when the chair beside him scraped against the floor. Quickly he tucked the package away, and turned to greet his friend. Veerle sunk into the chair beside him, letting out a sigh of relief. He’d shed his apron, leaving him in the jeans and sweater he’d had underneath, a dark blue coat of his own thrown over the back of his chair alongside a lighter and rather long scarf. His hair, often coming undone while he worked, had been retied into a neat knot at the back of his head, only a few strands loose to frame his face. Much to Maxim’s disappointment, he’d removed the heart glasses, though they still sat on top of his head. Veerle closed his eyes and tipped his head back, basking in likely the first bit of relaxation he’d gotten in several hours. Maxim didn’t interrupt, and instead indulged in watching his body go lax, and how the light hit him at just the right angle to sharpen the fine lines of his cheekbones and jaw. He let out a content sigh, and Maxim bit his tongue to distract himself from thinking about kissing his slightly parted lips.

It was hardly the first time he’d had the thought, and it undoubtedly wouldn’t be the last. 

Verrle shifted, turning to look at Maxim with a nervous smile. “Sorry about that, I should have at least said hi but, well, it’s good to finally relax.”

“It is no matter, I understand,” Maxim replied, briefly glancing away as the young girl began unloading things from her tray on to the table.

“Thanks Emi! Just uh, put the pastry in the middle, we’ll share.”

“Yeah I guessed. Oh, and Finbar sent these out as a little extra,” Emi, as she’d been called, said as she placed a plate of two heart shaped chocolate tarts garnished with dried crimson flower petals, giving Veerle a none too subtle wink. “Have fun! Doing… whatever it is you two do.”

“Oh, well, that’s nice of him,” Veerle said, voice strained and colour tinting his cheeks. “But, anyhow, thank you. Now go on! You’ve still got work to do.”

“Ah yes, of course, I bet you want some alone time,” she said, grinning even as she started to walk away.

Veerle shook his head, affectionate but exasperated, while Maxim glanced between the two.

“What was that about, may I ask?”

“Oh!” Veerle paused midway through going to take a sip of his drink, pink turning to a darker shade that contrasted the amber of his eyes quite nicely. “Uh, nothing. It’s nothing. She’s just, uh— Inside joke! It’s not important.”

“Very well,” Maxim said slowly, reaching for his own drink. He took the mug in his hands, letting the warmth seep into them. Looking down, he saw the foam art, a simple but sweet heart. He wondered if Veerle had made it, then chose not to over think that. If he did, it was likely due to the day, nothing more.

Veerle took a sip of his drink, then looked at Maxim. “So, was there anything in particular you wanted to discuss? Or did you just uh, want my company,” he said, and Maxim wasn’t sure if he licked his lips to get rid of the power from his drink or nerves. Either way, he forced himself to look away.

“Not really, only you. How have your studies been going recently?” Maxim asked.

“Good for the most part! It’s a lot, especially working here on the side, but I enjoy it. But I have perhaps gained an over reliance on caffeine, not Dani levels of bad, but it’s getting there.”

“Ah,” Maxim grimaced, “If it wouldn’t make me a hypocrite I’d perhaps advise against it but, well, I feel you may be a little to blame for that anyway.”

“Hey!” Veerle sat up straighter, grin not matching his offended tone. “Don’t blame your addiction on me, I’ve got nothing to do with it, you’re the one who keeps coming here.”

“Oh no, trust me Veerle, you have everything to do with it. But don’t worry I forgive,” Maxim gave a small smile in return, his tone dry as usual, though this time masking his sincerity alongside the humour.

“Well, why thank you, I’m so glad I have been forgiven for this heinous crime,” Veerle said with a laugh, while Maxim felt satisfaction well within him at the slight blush and pleased look it brought to his face. “But, to turn your question back at you, how are your own studies? Just the usual? Or have you gone off on another of your side projects? You went down quite the rabbit hole looking into the local wasp species recently, you mentioned it last time I saw you, you seemed excited. Any more on that?”

“Uh, yes, actually.” Maxim lent against the armrest of his chair, toward Veerle, as he took out his phone to show him some of his notes, having neglected to bring his laptop. “I’ve been writing some of my research and observations up, more for my own use than anything else. But if you want to hear more about it, I’d gladly share.”

Veerle smiled and leant in as well, their arms bumping together. “Always, Maxim.”

☆☆☆

Listening to Maxim talk was perhaps Veerle’s favourite thing about their occasional catch ups. Whether it be about his academic work or some random side tangent he’d found himself going down, they were always wonderfully interesting. It also helped that he was simply quite fond of the man’s voice. Its low drone was rather soothing, and if it weren’t for the setting or engaging subject, Veerle could very easily imagine himself falling asleep to it. As it was, he instead found himself leaning over the arm of his chair, shoulder pressed against Maxim’s and close enough to hear him clearly over the faint chatter from the other patrons. Close enough that he could feel the comfortable warmth through his jacket. Close enough that if he leant just a little further he may be able to kiss on the cheek, at the point where his neat close cropped beard transitioned to bronze skin. Not that he would dare to do so outside of his daydreams. He could feel his heartbeat, fast and fluttering, in his chest, but he paid it no mind. He had little room left to anyhow, with the amount of it he was devoting to Maxim.

His expression was customarily blank, but this close Veerle could see the slight wideness of his eyes indicative of excitement. He held his phone out to him, scrolling through notes or photos of various specimens he had caught on camera. It was rather endearing, hearing the usual monotone of his voice gain just a hint of liveliness as he rambled. He paid dutiful attention, occasionally interrupting to ask questions or look at pictures a moment longer. Whenever he did Maxim would fall silent, attention rapt and the corner of his mouth quirking into the faintest hint of a smile. Veerle’s imaginings of kissing him on the cheek began to stray into more dangerous territory, and he swiftly learned to look at the phone and not Maxim. Who knew what he may think, what he may do, if he kept letting himself be tempted.

Maxim was scrolling through some pictures of the wasps he’d spotted during his infrequent walks, when he paused. Veerle, who had been interjecting his own commentary here and there, looked up questioningly. Maxim had a slight frown on his face, deepening the furrow between his brow. Resisting the urge to reach a hand to his face and smooth it out, he instead waited, nibbling at one of the chocolate tarts.

Maxim spoke, voice strangely tense for the innocuous question. “I must ask, do you, uh, do you actually like bugs? You certainly don’t seem put off by them like some are, but, for reasons, I feel it pertinent to have confirmation.”

Veerle gave him a bemused look. “If I didn’t like them then trust me, I would not be sitting through this conversation. And well, perhaps your enthusiasm has been rubbing off on me, because I find them rather sweet. Relax, you are neither boring me or making me uncomfortable,” he said, leaning closer in what was intended as a playful bump, but ended up lingering as Maxim lent into it as well.

He seemed to relax, nodding to himself. “That is good, I would hate to do so. Especially given— Well, we can save that for later. But that is nice to know. However, I confess, I hope I have not been neglecting any wishes for you to speak with my tangents?” Maxim said, turning to face him.

Veerle, going to reply, found his voice dying in his throat. Both of them had lent close, and were now looking at each other, leaving them only a few inches shy of being nose to nose. Under the warm light of the Sprite Spring, Maxim was golden. Hair perfectly swept back from his face and features sharp, like a living sculpture. The frames of his rectangular glasses caught in the light, sitting ever so slightly crooked from lack of adjustment. Slowly, Veerle reached out a hand. Maxim was perfectly still as fingertips brushed his cheek, and Veerle straightened his glasses. The beating of his own heart in his ears was too loud for him to notice his friend’s quiet inhale. He didn’t pull back, and he swore Maxim lent closer.

Was he about to—

Something moved in the corner of his eye, and he snapped his hand back and put a respectable distance between himself and Maxim. He did the same, albeit more slowly, a frown crossing his face as they both turned to face the source of the movement.

Emi gave a sheepish grin, and carefully put their empty glasses on a tray. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Veerle’s face was hot, and it took a moment for him to regain his ability to speak. When he did his voice was dangerously close to cracking. “Oh it’s fine. You weren’t interrupting anything. I was just— We were just… talking! Yes. Just talking.”

“Suuure,” Emi said, not a hint of belief in her voice, “Well, I’ll take these off you, have fun just talking like good friends.”

“Yes, we will, thank you Emi.” Veerle shifted in his seat, glancing back at Maxim, taking an awkward bite of his tart as he waited for him to do something other than stare disgruntledly into the middle distance. Veerle hoped he hadn’t annoyed him by fixing his glasses.

☆☆☆

Maxim frowned at empty air, hardly realising he was making the expression, caught up in his thoughts as he was.

He had nearly kissed Veerle.

He had been entirely about to kiss him, if they had not been startled from their sudden state. If he hadn’t jumped back the moment Maxim had been about to close the gap. He wasn’t sure whether he should be annoyed or glad they were interrupted. On one hand it meant he didn’t have to deal with the aftermath. On the other, he’d been mere moments from learning how the scar across Veerle’s lips would feel under his own, if he’d be able to taste the little bit of chocolate powder still dusting them, if he’d make his usual surprised expression, eyes wide and lips parted, when kissed. Now, he had been left without any answers.

He shifted in his seat, trying to return his thoughts to the present and not mourn losing the warm press of Veerle’s shoulder against his. Glancing back at him, Maxim found he was already being watched. Veerle gave a small smile, the glasses on his head threatening to fall down from his sudden jolt. For a moment he thought to reach over and fix them, to mimic the barista’s earlier movement, and in doing so, finishing what he had gone to do. Pushing aside the thought, he cleared his throat, hoping Veerle hadn’t noticed his attempt at a kiss.

“Uh, well, as I was saying before, I hope I have not inadvertently spoken over the top of you.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Veerle said, rubbing the back of his neck with a scarred, gold ringed hand, “I like listening to you talk. And I appreciate the break anyway, it’s nice to sit back and listen, especially to you.”

Maxim went to speak, only to realise he’d lost his words. He looked away, and cleared his throat again. “Ah, well, that is good to hear. Though still, I shall try to do a bit more listening myself going forward, I know I have a tendency to get started and then, well, not stop. But I am flattered at the notion you enjoy it.”

“Of course I do, Maxim,” Veerle said, tone soft if still unsteady.

Maxim gave a pleased hum in reply, watching him from the corner of his eye as he finished off the last bites of his tart, sucking a little of the chocolate off his fingers. He looked away just as quickly, face flushing.

They settled into a comfortable silence, both basking in the ambient chatter and crackling of the café’s fireplace. Maxim leaned back into his armchair, sinking into the leather, his coat and blanket thrown over it adding extra softness. Beside him Veerle did the same, a small smile on his face that brought one to Maxim’s own. Outside a light flurry of snow began to fall once more, and a gust of cold air swept through as a young pair, a dark skinned woman with white hair and a tall smiling man with dreads pulled away from his face, left. Veerle shivered beside him, and curled deeper into his chair. Coincidentally, he had moved closer. Maxim glanced down at his hand, sitting on the armrest, half pulled into the sleeve of his jumper. Slowly, he moved his own, and let their fingers brush against each other.

Veerle didn’t pull back, but from the corner of his eye Maxim noticed his eyes widen just a fraction.

He let his hand sit there, enjoying the faint warmth of the touch and the smooth press of rings into his skin. Just as Maxim was relaxing once more, the touch increased. Veerle’s thin fingers slid between his own, dragging against the callouses he’d developed from too much messing with metal, the faint scars on his fingers and palm breaking up the smoothness of his skin. It was Maxim’s turn to tense, yet he did not pull back either. Cautiously, he returned the gesture, gently grasping Veerle’s hand back.

Neither of them said anything, just slowly relaxed once more, hands entwined, warm from more than just the heating, and the taste of sugar still left in their mouths.

Chapter Text

Customers were beginning to trickle out of the Sprite Spring, the more frequent opening of the door having let a chill permeate the café. Emi had come back around and cleared their table not too long ago. Now, he and Maxim sat there in idle conversation, hands entwined and stalling for time before they had to brave the cold. The press of the man’s palm, warm and a little rough, against his own was rather distracting. More than once Veerle had found himself simply staring at their linked hands, trying not to dwell on how snugly their fingers curled against each other, how the warmth of the touch seemed to spread through his whole body. He wasn’t sure where the sudden courage to reach out to Maxim had come from. Perhaps it was that he’d initiated it first, perhaps it had been the way he looked at Veerle as he’d fixed his glasses. Either way, he’d found himself grasping Maxim’s hand before he had a chance to think the motion through.

Now, however, he faced the fact that sooner or later he was going to have to let go of it if he wanted to put his coat on. While the cafe wasn’t going to close, it was emptying, and Veerle did unfortunately have to get home. When his and Maxim’s conversation lulled he regretfully pulled away, feeling the cold begin to instantly seep in, and stood.

“Well, as much as I am enjoying this, it’s about time I started heading home.” Veerle gave him an apologetic look as he pulled on his coat and scarf, having to wrap it around himself a few times. It still fell nearly to his knees. “But uh, if you still don’t mind, I’d appreciate your company on the walk back. I know it’s a longer route for you though, so I take no offence if you’d rather not.”

Maxim followed suit, throwing his coat over his shoulders and tugging on his gloves. Veerle watched him for a perhaps less than respectful amount of time, admiring how the coat seemed to broaden his shoulders and the deft movements of his hands as he buckled his gloves at the wrist.

“It is no bother to me, I’m glad to keep your company for a little longer. I shall regard it as taking the scenic route home.”

Veerle scoffed. “Ah yes, apartment blocks and shopping strips, lovely scenery. Though I suppose the old part of town where you are is quite pretty.”

“I wasn’t talking about that scenery,” Maxim said fondly, watching Veerle wrestle with his too long scarf.

Veerle hummed and straightened it back into place. “Well, whatever suits you.”

Maxim shook his head and sighed, seemingly in unexplained defeat, but otherwise said nothing further. They made their way to the door, weaving between tables, walking slowly as to savour the last dregs of warmth. Maxim finished doing up the buttons on his coat, his own pale plaid scarf falling past the high collar. Stepping forward as they reached the door, he held it open for Veerle to pass through. He returned the gesture with a grateful smile, then waved to Emi as he left, turning away in time to miss her teasing look.

The cold, previously only felt in icy whispers of wind, surrounded him all at once, like plunging into arctic water. He stopped in his tracks, muscles momentarily locked from the shock. Maxim bumped into him as the door swung closed, chest against his back and a hand coming to rest dangerously close to his waist. Now frozen in place for an entirely different reason, Veerle bit his lip as Maxim’s breath brushed past his ear. He barely succeeded in not leaning back into his warmth.

“Ah, rather brisk,” Maxim stepped out from behind Veerle, though his arm stayed looped around him, “Hopefully the walk will warm us up.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it will,” Veerle said, already feeling warmer.

Still, he pulled up his hood, the thick diamond quilting of the fabric helping to keep the cold at bay and hide the colour across his face from Maxim. If he did see it, hopefully he’d just assume it was from the cold. A gust of wind slid its icy hands beneath his coat and yanked at his scarf as they began to walk. He buried his face deeper into his scarf. Maxim’s hand fell from his side and into his pocket. Though Veerle mourned the loss he could more than understand why, and he mimicked the movement.

Conversation came easily, which while he was used to it happening with Maxim, was generally a strange occurrence for Veerle. Despite having been working in hospitality on the side for quite a while now, to help pay for both his initial schooling and now graduate work, he’d never quite gotten the hang of small talk. But Maxim, with his quite attentiveness and his own meandering ramblings, loosened the anxious tightening in his chest that came with socialising. It was nice to be able to speak freely for a change. 

Veerle looked up at the sky, a bleak wall of grey cloud cover, and sighed. “While I find I quite enjoy winter, I have to say, I could do without it being so overcast. It’s horrible weather for stargazing. It’s bad enough with the light pollution, but I don’t think I’ll be getting anything tonight.”

Maxim hummed, glancing up as well, a few errant snowflakes catching in his hair and beard. “Not by the looks of things, no. But perhaps it will get better soon.”

“I hope so,” Veerle said, smiling as a few flakes caught in his eyelashes, the white and gold momentarily beautiful before he blinked them away, face scrunching up rather adorably. “When I was first out of school, before I went to university, I spent a year with some of my friends, travelling and stargazing. It had always been our thing. There were some amazing spots we visited, I’d like to go back sometime.”

Veerle began to muse to himself, a somewhat bittersweet smile on his face as he reminisced about the sights and the antics. Maxim fell silent, though kept his eyes on him as they made their way through quiet backstreets, only the occasional car driving past to break the stillness. Without noticing, he’d taken a half step closer to Maxim, their shoulders bumping as they walked. Veerle glanced over at him, then, on a whim empowered by the same hopeful confidence that had overcome him earlier, linked their arms, fingers snagging in his sleeve.

Maxim’s steps faltered for a moment, but he did not pull away. They continued walking, Veerle’s chattering taking on a nervous rushed quality, but a smile firmly on his face, even as the cold nipped at his uncovered hand.

☆☆☆

The snow beneath their boots crunched as they walked. The sounds of the city were dampened to the point where Maxim could hear little else other than Veerle’s voice and the distant hum of traffic, an unseen but busy hive. He lent into the man, enjoying the warmth radiating from where their shoulders were pressed together, and where his hand held Maxim’s sleeve. He tried not to overthink the action, that VR-LA was holding his arm as though one would do when offered by a gentleman. It was strangely formal. Though the way they lent into each other's space, and how Maxim couldn’t help watching Veerle fondly as he buried his face in his scarf, dispelled any notions of professionalism.

He glanced down at his hand, enjoying the sight of scarred fingers tangled in the dark grey of his coat, only for a frown to cross his face a moment later. While the sight was rather pretty, and made him wonder what else he may do to make Veerle cling to him like that, it did raise the fact that he lacked gloves. While his hands were hidden in his pockets as they had been, it likely hadn’t been a problem, but now he could already see the slightly blue tinge to his fingertips. Maxim huffed and pulled his arm back.

Only to take Veerle’s hand in his own a moment later.

He started, glancing between his hand and Maxim, who rather disliked the fact that he couldn’t tell if the colour across Veerle’s cheeks was a flush or simply due to the cold. Grasping his hand tighter, he frowned at the slight chill he could feel even through his gloves.

“It’s far too cold to be leaving your hands out in the air. Did you not bring gloves? Do you have any?” Maxim asked, a hint of concern seeping into his tone.

Veerle let out a small laugh, squeezing Maxim’s hand. “Yes I do, somewhere that is. Relax. I was just in a rush this morning, figured it wasn’t worth being late to work for.”

“Ah, very well then. I suppose this shall have to suffice for now then,” Maxim said as he pulled Veerle closer, sliding their linked hands back into the warmth of his pocket.

The colour on his cheeks noticeably darkened, especially as Maxim slowly began to rub circles into the back of his hand with his thumb. “Oh, thanks. That’s— That’s nice, this is nice…” he said, speech faltering.

Compared to the pale snow and dark blue of his coat the crimson of his cheeks was richly saturated, and much to Maxim’s own flusterment, as were his lips from his nervous chewing. He tightened his grip on Veerle’s hand and looked away. He’d already almost crossed that line once today, he could not risk doing so again.

Plus, he had other things to worry about, the weight of the package seeming to grow heavier as they approached their destination.

☆☆☆

The apartment building where Veerle lived showed its bleak, if charmingly overgrown, facade as they rounded a corner, still a couple of blocks away but growing closer with each step. Both him and Maxim slowed in unspoken agreement, savouring the last few minutes of company. His hand was still snugly held within his friend's pocket, the leather fingers of his gloves dragging in slow circles in a motion he presumed was meant to rub some warmth back into his hand, but had inadvertently sent heat through his whole body. It was certainly more effective than gloves, he mused to himself. Veerle toyed with the seam where the leather turned to fabric backing, the idle fidgeting a poor disguise for how he was feeling out the shifting muscles in the back of his hand. 

Maxim seemed not to mind. If anything, Veerle was sure he could see a shadow of a smile across the man’s face. He was certainly spending enough time watching him to notice, when he wasn’t staring at the ground to hide his blush. But Veerle found he looked rather lovely in the winter. The cold brought out a copper tint to his skin, and his eyes matched the colour of the sky, while the thick coat served to broaden and sharpen his silhouette even more than his suits. All in all, it was doing terrible things to his poor heart, and Veerle found himself wishing he could see Maxim like this every day. Quietly content and relaxed, with the wind gently skewing his hair and dusting him with a rime of crystalline white.

Veerle looked at the ground again and sighed. He wasn’t quite sure if this was simply a platonic outing or something more. It was getting harder to tell. Though he was starting to think that perhaps there was more deliberate purpose behind Maxim’s actions then he’d previously thought. He was a smart and purposeful man after all, he always seemed careful with his image and emotions, too careful perhaps. He was having a hard time trying to justify how he could continuously do down right romantic things by accident. Either way, Veerle needed to get a handle on himself, at least until something happened that may give more credibility to his suspicions.

If it weren’t for Maxim coming to a stop at the apartment block entrance he may have continued walking straight past it, lost in his thoughts as he was. Veerle started as the grip on his hand tightened, and he was pulled to a halt, stumbling into Maxim’s side. His hand slid from his own, and before he had a chance to mourn its loss it returned, now steadying him. His palm pressed, warm and heavy, into the small of his back, fingertips beginning to slip around his side. Maxim reached his other hand in between the folds of his coat, pulling something out. For a moment Veerle was distracted from the staccato rhythm of his own heartbeat as he inspected the package. It was a small box made of brown card, not fancy but not unsightly, simply modest.

Maxim cleared his throat, palming the box for a moment before offering it to Veerle, not quite meeting his eyes. “Before we part, I actually initially sought you out today so I may bestow this upon you. I thought that, well, I always show you pictures of my work and you seem to like them, so… Here, I made this for you.”

Veerle took the box gently, their fingers brushing against each other, unsure of what to think of Maxim’s nervousness. It was something unfamiliar to see on him of all people, yet also something he had felt within himself often. At least, he was decently sure it was the same feeling. 

“Well, thank you,” he said, a smile already coming to his face even before he opened it, daring to hope that the gesture meant what he thought it meant.

☆☆☆

Maxim waited, shoulders tense and barely breathing, trying not to tighten his grip on Veerle’s coat, as he slowly took off the lid. For as small as the gift was, he’d put much time and care into its creation, the idea that it may not be liked, however unlikely, was like a lead weight in his chest. Gold and silver glinted as the winter light hit its contents, and Veerle carefully removed it. A palm sized wasp, constructed from clockwork mechanisms and sheets of metal shone brightly in the light, the tiny rivets in its body flashing, its thin gold wings tucked close to its body. Veerle let out a soft gasp, his breath clouding the air, as he turned it in the light. Maxim watched his shifting expression closely.

His eyes widened, though were soft with wonder, and a similar smile played across his lips. The tension through his body dissipated as Veerle lent into him, comfortably tucked against his side, handling his creation with a delicate reverence.

“Thank you, this is lovely,” Veerle said, voice breathy. He looked a little ways up to meet Maxim’s eyes, smile faltering, “I— I am sorry, I feel a little bad that I do not have anything I can gift you in return.”

Maxim huffed, shaking his head. “No you need not, your company is already payment enough.”

For a moment he thought to dare and ask for a kiss, but no, that was several steps too far. Instead he just pulled Veerle a little closer, trying not to think about how, with the foggy clouds of their breath swirling together, it would be so easy to lean toward and do so anyway. No sooner than he’d had the thought, Veerle took a steadying inhale, gently placed the wasp back in its box, and turned to face him.

“Maybe,” he said, looking just past Maxim’s face, one hand coming to rest on his chest “But still, take this as a token of… appreciation, and thanks for your own company.”

Before Maxim could respond Veerle lent forward, placing a quick and chaste kiss on his cheek, lips hot against his chilled skin. For once it was his turn to blink in shock, eyes wide, mouth opening to say something but no words coming to him. Veerle pulled away, face flushed, though surely not as badly as Maxim’s was.

“I hope you don’t mind. But, bye for now, I should get going.”

With that Veerle hurried up the steps to the door, box cradled close to his chest, and slipped inside before Maxim could even snap himself from his sudden stillness. When he did regain the ability to move, he almost stumbled, having to take a moment to ground himself amid the pounding of his heart. He raised a hand to his cheek, whole face hot but the place where Veerle had kissed him like a brand. He glanced up at the building, to the window three stories up that he knew belonged to him, and simply stood in the cold street staring for a long while.

So he had figured it out, he mused, somehow managing to sound breathless even in his own mind.

He shook his head in disbelief, then turned and began walking down the street, snow crunching beneath his feet and snagging in his hair, yet he was no longer so concerned about the cold. Not with the warm and fluttering lightness in his chest.