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The shift that Gene made when he was around Laurance was barely noticeable at first. Maybe it was just some small flirting that he said to the other, but everyone just wrote it off as him being his usual self: a tease.
But then it became something more, and Gene doesn’t even remember when it happened. But one day, out of the blue, it went from nagging Laurance about his long, orange hair and how he looked like a girl to fighting the urge to run his fingers through it when they sat next to each other. It went from him poking fun at his preference in striped shirts to being reminded of Laurance every time he sees one when he goes into a shopping mall. It went from Laurance being just another one of the gang that he would speak maybe a little fondly of to being the only thing he thought about whenever someone mentioned his gang.
There was a slight possibility that Gene felt bold the day that he finally gave into his urges to brush Laurance’s hair with his fingers. He certainly didn’t think he was bold. Cowardly and stupid might have been better terms for what he was feeling. But, he was magically assured in his actions when the orange-haired boy leaned into his touch instead of giving him an eye roll and pulling away. The ooo-ing from Zenix and Sasha was cut off with a sharp glare, only for Zenix to cross his arms and Sasha to take a picture in return.
He was very relieved when he didn’t have to confess first, though. But he wasn’t as relieved when Laurance said, “So what are we, really?”
He shrugged in response, not ready for this question—he’s not sure he ever would be, either.
“I mean, we sneak out of school and our own homes to hang out with each other,” Laurance said, resting his head on the tree they were sitting under. “I had to stuff you in my closet once to hide you from Cadenza–”
Gene gave a small chuckle at that, because he remembered the incident like it was yesterday (he still does); knocking on the door freaking Laurance out so much he barely had time to warn Gene as he yanked him into the closet. The closet where he then had to sit for the next half hour as Cadenza and Caleb stayed to chat.
“–and you almost pushed me off your bed the time Dante came barging into your room.”
He also remembered that one as clear as day, and he also remembers getting unreasonably pissed off at Dante and immensely worried for the gash that had appeared on Laurance’s head after he hit it on the table. He had since apologized to the both of them, but it was much less than a fond memory for Gene.
“So what?” Gene asked, but he knew what Laurance was getting at.
“We act like we’re dating, and yet we’re not.” Laurance frowns, finally looking at him. “I know that I like you, and I’m pretty sure you like me too… right?”
Gene didn’t know how to say he does, and was left gaping like a fish. “U-uhh.”
“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Laurance snickered. “Unless you want to tell me I’m wrong?”
The immediate snap of his jaw hurt more than Gene wanted to admit, but he’d shut his mouth even faster if it meant having Laurance all to himself.
Gene’s behavior and favoritism only got worse with time, barely wanting to speak to Sasha or Zenix whenever Laurance was around. He’d have to fight—and then he would eventually lose—the urge to follow Laurance around like a lost dog, or sling his arm over his shoulder and listen to the chatter from his favorite person ever. He’d watch YouTube videos on how to braid hair so that the next day he could braid Laurance’s with little difficulty, gaining a smile and a kiss in thanks. The sun shone brighter, the moon was prettier, and the stars twinkled at him like they were clapping.
“The moon is beautiful tonight, no?” Laurance would ask him without fail whenever they were on his roof. It was like second nature, like the night wasn't complete yet until he asked the question.
And then without missing a beat, Gene would respond, “Yes, but it’s obviously not as beautiful as you.”