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The first time it happens it's because it is the hottest day of the past 50 years and Laurent doesn't know what to do with himself. He lies spread out on the marble floor of his kitchen, the windows and blinds closed, and he prays to the AC gods that they come back to him after being dead for three weeks and save him from his misery. You'd think that owning a penthouse apartment in Manhattan would make sure you'd never have to live through moments like this.
When he feels like he's going to turn into a zombie any moment now – an overheated fever zombie – he drags his body out of his apartment and over to the guy he just refers to as the Crazy Greek. To say he has a feud with Damianos Basileus would be an understatement. It's been war for years. Whenever Laurent has people over, Damen makes sure to shut the party down precisely at 11pm and Laurent returns the favor by singing loudly in the shower whenever he hears Damen taking a bath. Which seems to happen often. Perks of sharing a bathroom wall.
The door opens and Laurent watches the metamorphosis. Wide smile, an easy posture, all of it turning into a deep frown and squared shoulders within seconds. And then his voice. Hard as stone. "What do you want?"
Laurent would be too proud for this on any other day. But now he's hot. And desperate. He's a hot, desperate mess. "Your AC… Is it working?"
"Yeah, why?"
Laurent doesn't wait for a real invitation. He just pushes past Damen, into the cool heaven that is Damen's hallway. Laurent shivers. "Oh my God."
"Uhm. I don't want to interrupt, but… What the fuck?" Damen closes the door and just stares at him with wide eyes.
"My AC has been down for three weeks," Laurent mumbles. "I'm melting."
"If only that were true," Damianos growls, but then something strange happens. Because his frustration seems to be beaten down by something else and whatever it is, it makes him look a lot less crazy. "Do you want a coke?"
The moan that escapes him isn't very dignified. "God, yes."
The first time it happens it's because it is the hottest day of the past 50 years and Laurent doesn't know what to do with himself. He sleeps on Damen's couch like a refugee after he spent hours drinking iced coke with him and talking about everything and nothing and he doesn't question it when he stops thinking of Damen as the Crazy Greek.
---
The second time it happens it has nothing at all to do with the weather. It's more that Laurent can't sleep and he tries to beat down his thoughts with the rhythm of Metallica blasting through the entire apartment. When Damen rings the bell, Laurent knows how things will go. Damen will say something grumpy because he has the soul of an eighty year old who thinks too much about his tax return and Laurent will try his best to come up with a sassy remark. Damen even opens his mouth, but whatever he wants to say, the words are swept away and Damianos cocks his head. "Are you okay?"
And instead of snapping back, Laurent turns down the music, completely resigned. "Sorry. I'll try to be more quiet."
"Do you…" Damen pauses, apparently carefully weighing his words. "Do you want to come over and watch a movie? I'm bored."
What Laurent learns that evening is this: Nothing works better to forget any dark thoughts than making popcorn with Damen and bickering with him about Hogwarts Houses and how they'd be sorted.
---
Laurent remembers the first time they really yelled at each other in the hallway. Laurent opened the door to let in his friends the exact moment Damen opened his to let out a tall blonde woman who kept snapping at him. Both she and Damianos froze when they saw Laurent who was still not over the fact that the jerk had sent the police to his place a week earlier. He tilted his head and smiled at the woman.
"Looking for better company than his?" Laurent nudged his head towards Damen. "Because I'm sure we'd have a glass of wine to spare."
Jokaste really did stay that night even though she wasn't there for long. Now, almost two years later, Laurent regrets inviting her over. Because he has to listen to Damen who tells him that his brother is getting married to his ex. This time it's Laurent who suggests to watch a movie and make popcorn. He also suggests to go to the wedding together.
Damen looks surprised while Laurent gives him a wicked grin. "Believe me, when I go with you, nobody there will be talking about you and her anymore."
---
It's four months until the wedding. Four months of seeing each other almost every day. Four months of endless talks and countless laughs. Weird things happen. Damen learns how to crack a joke. Laurent learns how to blush.
Two times Laurent is so tired from work he falls asleep during the movie. Two times he wakes up and finds himself tucked in with his shoes next to the couch and a pillow under his head. Damen never comments on it or teases him for it. Laurent is incredibly grateful for that. Both times he buys donuts and presses oranges while he makes coffee for breakfast. Damen looks different in the morning. Sharp and vibrant. Laurent smiles when he finds out that Damen is singing under the shower too.
---
He was right. He told me he would steal the thunder, but I didn't believe him. Not really. I should have. He's golden threads and dark blue silk. He laughs at the jokes of my grandaunt. He dances with my niece and talks about football with Uncle Don. He charms each and every one at the entire wedding except for Jokaste who glares at him like it's her job and me who now looks like a complete idiot for complaining so much about the stupid neighbor when apparently he's the nicest boy they've ever met. I know the real Laurent, though. I can't be charmed. Not even when he looks at me as he dances. Not even when he smiles at me.
And then I remember how I saw him standing in my hallway. The hottest day of all time. Eyes closed, lips parted, he moaned. And I wanted to keep hating him so badly, but he looked so delicate, his face flushed. So I asked him if he wants a coke. And now here we are and he looks like he belongs and I feel like I don't. Shouldn't have had so much fucking wine.
---
He shouldn't have had so much wine. Laurent blames it all on that. Damen weighs a ton and he's leaning most of it against Laurent who tries his hardest to keep them both upright in the elevator while Damen keeps babbling something unintelligible.
"All good, big guy," Laurent mumbles. "We're there soon."
Dragging them both to the hotel room is a task that takes almost half an hour, but finally Laurent manages to push the door to the bedroom open and get them both inside. Damen falls into bed, his arms spread out. He's grinning like an idiot. Laurent feels strange.
He grabs a pillow and a blanket and swallows hard. He's grateful they have a suite. "I'll take the couch outside."
But then warm fingers wrap around his wrist and Damen turns over to reach up with his free hand and tug on Laurent's blazer. "Stay."
Damen shouldn't have had so much wine. Or maybe Laurent should have had more. He feels like the world could shatter from every move he makes, but he still slips into bed next to Damen who just keeps on smiling and pulls him close. Laurent barely dares to breathe. "What are we doing?"
There's no answer. Damen just nuzzles into his hair. His voice is thick with sleep. "You smell like the first warm day in spring."
And with that, Damen falls asleep while Laurent stays awake, listening to his own heartbeat.
---
This is what Laurent wants while he still lies in bed next to Damen: To never talk about it again. It didn't happen.
This is what Damen wants: To remember what exactly he did to make Laurent look at him like this.
This is what they get: Damen's best friend Nikandros doesn't knock when he comes in to wake Damen up to take him to the airport.
---
The flight is tense. Not just because Damen's friend kept making accusations about secret and/or fake relationships from the hotel all the way to the check in. Damen has this tension written around his eyes that makes it obvious that he has a headache. As soon as they are sitting down to wait for boarding, Damen grunts that he won't go back home for at least fifty years. Laurent tries to understand but doesn't. He thinks the wedding was nice and that Damen's family was great. He also misses his brother.
On the plane, they barely talk and it continues during their ride home. Damen manages a mumbled thank you when they reach their apartment doors and then they are both home. Laurent doesn't know why he feels like crying.
---
They don't talk for two weeks.
---
Laurent is drying himself off when he hears a faint cough and then another a little closer. Then the door to Damen's bathroom and once again a cough that makes him cringe hard because it sounds incredibly painful. He stands and listens a moment longer, then he shakes out of it and gets dressed for work. He forgets all about the cough until he hears it again the very same evening, this time when he's about to unlock his door. There is some sneezing too. Laurent rolls his eyes and instead of entering his own apartment, he rings Damen's bell.
The sight in front of him can't be described as anything other than a tragedy. Damen is shaking slightly and even though his posture usually lets no doubt about his self-confidence (and his ego, Laurent thinks) right now his shoulders are hunched and his eyes red-rimmed. He's sneezing again as soon as he sees Laurent.
"Come over to my place? I'm making you chicken soup."
Damen squints. Suspicion isn't usually a flaw of his. Only when Laurent is involved. Still, he nods and trails after Laurent, his cough like a grater shredding his airways.
"I hate being sick," Damen whines and he flops down on Laurent's couch, burying his face in one of the cushions. "I don't wanna be sick."
"Cry-baby," Laurent replies, but he can't help and smile. Damen looks like a child.
Laurent gets a blanket for him and makes him tea before he starts to chop up the ingredients for the soup. A little while later he carries two bowls and a basket of warm bread to the living room only to find Damen sound asleep. He's snoring softly. Laurent sets down the tray and sits down on his living room table. Even years later he won't understand why he doesn't just wake Damen up like any normal person would. Instead he watches him for a minute or two, his eyes tracing the curves and edges of his face as though they were a pencil. There is something irresistible about Damen's handsomeness. Like the phrase "easy on the eye" has just been made for him.
Laurent reaches out and touches Damen's cheek, brushing away a strand of hair before he squeezes his shoulder. "Hey… Wake up. Food's ready."
Damen blinks open his eyes and looks at Laurent like he just saw someone else. A ghost maybe. Or an angel.
They eat together and watch Rocky of all things simply because Damen's eyes light up when he sees it's been added to Netflix. Laurent finds out that his Crazy Greek considered a professional boxing career once in his life and that he's trained in five different martial arts as well. Damen gets excited when he talks about close quarter combat and in a way that's adorable because it doesn't add up with the three layers of sweaters and the stuffed up nose.
Laurent shares a few childhood memories himself. He's tried with fencing and lacrosse as well as some typical family sports like skiing and rowing. He also finds himself telling Damen that nothing has really been able to keep him excited except for his horses. That also reminds him that he hasn't been out of the city for way too long and he says it out loud.
"We should go." Damen says things like that and he never ends them with a question mark. He has to put it all into perspective otherwise. "If you want to."
Laurent nods. "I do."
---
Damen's flu keeps him to the brink of death – according to himself, not an actual doctor – for four days. All four of them he spends in Laurent's apartment. They ease back into their friendship. It feels good. Laurent hasn't been aware of his loneliness until he met Damen.
---
The countryside isn't made to keep distance. That's what cities are for. The buzz and the business keeps people at arm's lengths and Laurent has managed to keep it that way even for people close to him. It gets harder the moment they set foot into the cottage that looks cute and cozy but actually cost Laurent's family a fortune. His uncle is still secretly annoyed with the fact that it wasn't part of his parents' last will but rather of a trust fund for Auguste. The cottage, the ranch and the apartment in New York are the only thing that truly belong to Laurent. The money and the company will remain with his uncle until he's 25.
'Soon,' Laurent thinks as he steps into the cottage that feels like one of the last corners of childhood bliss to him.
It feels strange to invite Damen into this world that's so detached from his everyday life. It comes close to a miracle that Laurent's nostalgia isn't noticed and before that can change, he shows Damen the two bedrooms, the bath room and the kitchen. He also explains that it's a 30 minutes walk just downhill through the woods or a 15 minutes ride with the car to reach the ranch. It would be short enough to use the rest of the day for it, but they're both tired from the drive so instead they grab a bottle of wine and two glasses and sit down on the small patio to watch the slow change from day to dusk to night.
Laurent nips from his glass and shrinks down a little on his seat. He's surprised when Damen slips out of his cardigan and holds it out for him. Laurent smiles, but takes it gratefully. Even when Damen shivers, he doesn't give it back but instead gets inside to bring him a blanket. After that they just sit and stare at the stars. The silence is comfortable and it's what Laurent enjoys the moth. As much as he loves to talk to Damen, he's one of the few people who know that sometimes people don't have to talk.
It's only when the wine is gone that Laurent feels the sudden but urgent need to say it out loud. "My brother. He's dead. I miss him."
Damen looks at him in the darkness, his face only half lit by a candle that's slowly burning down on the table between them. He doesn't say anything. He just patiently waits for Laurent to continue.
"It's the first time I say that to anyone." Laurent even lets out a small laugh. "Stupid, huh? Considering the fact that I miss him like crazy every day."
"It's not stupid," Damen replies and he rubs his hands to warm them. "Is he the guy in the pictures inside?"
Laurent nods. "Yes. We came here with our parents. I feel like every corner of this mountain holds a story."
The curiosity builds up a tension and Laurent feels it. And yet, all that Damen says is, "I'm sorry."
"It happened ten years ago," Laurent answers the unasked question. "A drunk driver crashed into his bike. Nothing they could have done. Back then I wanted to sell this place. I… I thought I wouldn't be able to bear the memories. Now I'm glad I still have it."
Damen swallows and reaches over to take Laurent's hand. Any other person, Laurent would have pulled away from. But there is a comfort he can find in this very moment that he just can't deny himself.
"I can't even imagine what that must be like." Damen has the rare gift to offer sincerity in phrases that sound shallow from other people. "I don't even want to, I think."
"At first, I wanted to kill the guy who's responsible," Laurent admits. He can feel his cheeks grow warm. "I found it so unfair that he was still alive while my brother was gone."
"It is," Damen says, squeezing Laurent's hand. "It is unfair."
"Yes, but I also believe in fate. A little bit at least. Maybe it's because that's the only way to cope. I think things that are meant to happen, happen. Things that are meant to be, will find their way."
Damen smiles now. "Do you think it was fate we became neighbors?"
Laurent rolls his eyes, but he smiles back. "Some twisted joke of fate, yes. But fate nonetheless."
"Fate," Damen repeats and the sky sparkles a little brighter. It feels like they just exchanged their best kept secret.
---
One time this tall brunette opens Damen's door to get the newspaper. She smiles at Laurent, all white teeth and smooth dark skin. She seems to be the embodiment of the word "curve". She's round and soft in all the right places. Even Laurent can see that.
When Damen texts him that evening asking if he has time to go to the gym together, Laurent texts him back that he can just do a few push-ups into his new girlfriend instead. Damen texts back with a simple '???'. Laurent is getting more and more annoyed and contemplates not answering at all when in the end he clarifies that he means the girl that got him his newspaper this morning.
'Gross, man. That's my little cousin.'
Laurent stares at the words and blushes. He feels very stupid for a few days afterwards.
---
It's getting cooler outside. Not just during the nights, but during the day as well. The mornings look golden, but they are fresh and Laurent wraps his cardigan tighter around himself. I don't think anyone else could pull off chunky crochet the way he does. But it looks right on him. Just like everything else looks right on him. It's a gift of Laurent to make everything he owns specifically his. I wonder if that happens to people as well.
When he turns around he blushes and smiles. I roll my eyes and laugh because I don't know what else to do. I didn't mean to make him notice that I look at him. It just felt like such a magical moment. Laurent with a cup of coffee on my balcony, and both the sunshine and the wind have to go through him to get into my apartment. Every day could start like this.
It's strange that I can't remember it. That moment when I started to look at Laurent and wanted him to stay for the first time. I always want him to stay these days.
---
There is a fight that almost ruins everything. It starts with a harmless discussion and ends with a snarky remark from Laurent that Damen takes more personally than he should have. As a reply, he tells Laurent that he always thinks he's better than anyone else when in reality he's just a spoiled brat who's scared to let anyone or anything close.
Laurent freezes at that. It's not necessarily the words that are spoken, but the tone of them. They reopen a myriad of wounds, small and big ones, all of them carefully sealed in their months as friends. They all start to bleed at once, a gateway of raw emotions that break loose.
Laurent reaches for the glass he's been drinking from and throws it after Damen who steps aside and lets it shatter on the wall. It's like daggers fly between them. They use whatever information they've gathered in the past months to use it against each other, yelling and snapping back, both too furious to let it go. And then, from one moment to another, Laurent's anger boils up one last time before it implodes and turns into a hell of ice. He squares his shoulders, sets his jaw and swallows. "Delete my number. And don't come near me ever again."
"Scared again?" Damen asks with an arrogant smirk.
"Or maybe just done with you." Those are his last words before he storms out.
---
They don't see or hear each other for three days. Then, there's a bonsai tree standing in front of Laurent's apartment. It's a small apple tree and there's a small note slipped between its branches.
'You said that you like bonsai trees. I hope you like this one. I miss you.'
---
Laurent puts the apple tree close to one of the big windows. He doesn't text Damen, doesn't go knocking on his door.
---
After not hearing from him, I didn't expect to find a fruit basket on my doorstep. The note sounds like his voice.
'You probably think you deserve one of these. (I miss you too.)'
---
Laurent has his ear pressed against the door and he hears Damen laugh. Five minutes later he gets a text. Damen invites him over for pasta at eight.
---
It feels stiff that evening. They have worn each other down. Now they are raw and vulnerable but so very determined to get back to where they were. Sometimes that's enough. Sometimes what you really need is just the will to try again. You know you wouldn't do it for just any person, but you will do it for this one.
Most of their conversation is lighthearted. There's a lot of teasing involved and they are both relieved they're still able to laugh together.
It's only at the very end of the evening that Laurent lets his eyes drop for just a moment before they find Damen's again. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I don't think. I fight dirty when I fight."
Damen shrugs. "I think I managed to stand up to you. I'm a big boy, I can take it."
"You only look big," Laurent says and manages a small smile. "It's all of the muscles. Deep down you're just a softie."
Damen laughs at that. "You got me. Now how do I pay for your silence?"
"No way you can think of to shut me up?"
With a small hum, Damen's eyes flicker to Laurent's lips. Laurent's heart first skips a beat and then starts to race. The moment lingers, unfolds, stretches out until it snaps. Wordless, Damen shifts his weight and reaches out to cup Laurent's face. His thumb brushes over his cheek and then he leans in. He stops an inch before their lips can touch before he closes the distance between them and Laurent's eyes flutter closed when Damen's mouth is suddenly on his. It's not the kiss that takes his breath away. It's the promise behind it.
A few seconds. Not longer. And everything is different. Laurent pushes himself up and the chair he's been sitting on almost topples over. His cheeks are so hot they boil tears into his eyes but they don't fall. He just blinks and excuses himself. "I'm sorry, I have to… I should go. I… I'll see you around."
---
I don't know why I don't follow him. Maybe it's the panic in his eyes. You might catch an animal that's scared of you, but you'll never tame it. I know that it's just imagination, but I can still taste Laurent on my lips. It was more than just a kiss. So much more.
---
Laurent paces. He's done this his whole life. When there is a problem, he only has to pluck it apart, piece by piece and to then from those pieces build a solution. It can't be that hard.
Only this time the problem is Damen and whenever he thinks about him, he can't think at all. And whenever he tries to pluck him apart, piece by piece, he only ever finds a million new ways to look at all of them. When he rebuilds Damen from his pieces, he's only ever more than he has been before. And now there's the kiss. And Laurent can't even begin to wrap his head around that.
The words from the fight ring once again in Laurent's head and he knows without a doubt that Damen was right. He's scared. So, so scared to let anyone close. He's been spending the past couple of years trying to convince himself that he can do it alone. That he's strong enough. That he can do it all. Letting Damen in means admitting that it's easier when there is someone else. It also means risking that he will lose it all again.
He doesn't sleep. Not even when his eyes start to burn. His apartment slowly fills with the grey light of dawn and Laurent comes to the conclusion that the solution to the problem doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because Laurent just wants. He wants Damen. He wants someone in his life.
---
When he steps outside the apartment, he's wearing the clothes from yesterday. His hair is disheveled. He must look like hell. Damen is wearing a suit. He's on his way to work.
"I've called you the Crazy Greek." Laurent's voice is quiet and hoarse. "Before I got to know you."
Damen just stares at him with wide eyes. "I called you Resting Bitchface."
Laurent laughs at that. A nervous giggle. It's a sound he's never made before. It's what you get from a sleepless night and falling for someone hard. "Are you still calling me that?"
"No."
"That's the thing," Laurent says and he takes just one small step closer while he fumbles with his own hands. "I still call you Crazy Greek sometimes."
"Uh huh." Damen look skeptical and a little offended.
"When you make me laugh," Laurent continues and once again he takes a step. "Or when you tell me one of those adventurous stories from your childhood. When you do that little happy dance when one of your teams score."
"It's not a happy dance. It's a victory cheer."
"Crazy Greek." Laurent closes the distance between them. "My Crazy Greek."
And that's how one small word makes all the difference. Damen reaches out and touches Laurent's chin. A small touch that startles them into a new life.
---
It's frantic now. Nothing of the caution from the hallway. Laurent stumbles into the apartment behind Damen who pulls him inside before throwing away his bag. He then reaches out to grab Laurent tight and lift him up just enough to kiss him without leaning down. It's different than the night before, giddier, but still holding that same promise.
They are a whirling storm until they reach the bedroom and while Laurent still wants, wants this and everything and Damen with every fiber of his being, Damen slows them both down. There are feather light touches and sweet whispers, all of them compliments that make Laurent blush. With every step they take, he's feeling a little more at ease.
He's always scoffed about it. 'Making love.' As if sex wasn't something purely animalistic and physical. But this is so much more than just that. Just like Damen, Laurent thinks. Pieces plucked together only to be rebuild and form something more. And how could he call that anything else but making love?
Their kisses become open mouthed, their muscles tense up. It's getting hot and yet there are shivers run through their bodies. The pain of it is delicious, the clumsiness only attracts them to each other further.
When it's over, they lie tangled up and breathless. They are more than what they were this morning. Laurent closes his eyes and wonders if he should be scared of changing. But then he tells himself that it doesn't feel like change. More like he's finally becoming who he is for the first time.
---
It takes half a year to their next fight. This time it's a rational argument, but it's still heated and in a few ways mean because they try to make their case which apartment they should live in. Laurent talks about the better view and the extra walk-in closet. Damen talks about the security system and the mosaic tiles in the bathroom.
In the end, they talk to the landlord. There's little money can't do. The hallway between their apartments is closed up and their apartment doors torn down. They turn Damen's bedroom into a small library with a fire place and Laurent's bathroom into a sauna. They redecorate the whole place together.
In the very end, Laurent takes his apple tree bonsai and puts it on the table next to the new apartment door, where they keep the bowl with their keys.
"Why there?" Damen asks and hugs Laurent from behind, placing a small kiss on the curve of his neck."
Laurent hums and cranes his head to reach Damen's mouth. "There's only one place where it makes sense to plant an apple tree."
"And where's that?" Damen asks with a grin.
Laurent smiles as well and turns around in Damen's arms to look into his eyes. The answer is obvious to both of them. "Home."