it's not a date unless somebody dies

[princekiller]

Since Erasmus's arrival, there had been little opportunity for Damen to spend time alone with Laurent. A boy raised as a slave, raised to serve to such a degree as Erasmus, could not be left alone to fend for himself in a world as strange as this. And so Damen had taken him in, taken him under his wing to an extent. Laurent, upon learning that Damen now shared a dwelling with the boy who had been raised to become his personal body slave - even if that boy was still unaware of Damen's true identity - had sworn to not set foot in Damen's apartment.

In truth, Damen did not quite understand the upset, though he knew Erasmus was likely to drop to his knees out of sheer habit should the man he knew only as the Prince of Vere were to enter his presence.

It was partially that reason, but largely that Damen had found himself longing to be near Laurent more and more with each passing week, that found him in Laurent's terrace, lounging upon the chaise with Laurent pressed against his side. Dutch had shown him quite some time ago how to operate the television and had suggested the notion of staring at with Laurent as a courting activity.

Though it had taken some time to find anything both he and Laurent could agree worth watching, Damen could now see the appeal. It was a quiet even. Relaxed. The majority of Damen's focus was centered on the press of Laurent's arm against his own, Laurent's slow and even breathing, the light brush of Laurent's hair upon Damen's shoulder. But even so, he was hardly uncomfortable.

'If I happen to fall asleep right here, will you attend me?' he asked after a long, silent moment, his lips quirked into a faint grin as he smoothed a hand down Laurent's arm.

Comments

[primary_asset]

John is used to cleaning up alone. The aftermath is something he's good at and even though it's been some time since there's been a body to worry about, this has been a job others would just leave him to. Maybe it shouldn't surprise him that they offer to help, but it does just a little and he glances back and smiles faintly, then shakes his head.

"You're hurt," he says to Damen, then glances to Laurent. "But I will take that drink."

With the plastic bag zipped, he's careful to curl her body into a fetal position, then places her inside the second duffle bag. Looking at her a moment longer, he shakes his head, then zips it closed. "We've only met once," he admits. "But I liked her. Like her. She's easy to trust. I can't say that about many people."

[princekiller]

Quietly, Damen mourned the inevitable loss of Laurent's touch, but there were important matters yet at hand. His frown deepened at John's assessment and he shook his head. 'I've endured far worse than this in my time,' he said, stepping closer.

It was clear the man needed little help however and Damen's gaze was drawn to Dutch once more. Though hardly the first time Damen had witnessed a fallen friend, this instance was a good deal more unnerving. 'I've known her since my arrival here,' Damen said quietly. 'I appeared in her bed, much to the chagrin of the man who occupied it at the time. Her lover.' His lips twitched into a faint smile at the memory. 'He's since forgiven me. And she... she has taught me a great deal of this place.'

Damen fell quiet for a moment before he turned to look toward the kitchen. 'I believe I'd like a drink as well.'