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'Oh, please. Don't stop doing what you're doing.' He thought to himself as he took in the blonde vision before him. And what a sight it was. He never thought he would see something like this.
The man moved like water, slow and rhythmic movements. His back was turned to Damen, but he wouldn't mistake that blonde hair for anything else, shining and reflecting the twinkling colorful lights that filled the room. He couldn't tear his eyes as he danced with a red-haired man, the same who was with him that day in the bar. They were both a sight to behold, even if from afar. They circled each other, roaming hands in each other's sides, moving hips and ass to the beat of the music.
Auguste had told him that his brother knew how to have fun, the only problem was that he didn't like the company and that's why he never hung out with them. So he never expected to see it right in front of him and unannounced like this. He tripped over his feet and held the weight of his body on a high bench by the kitchen counter, holding a glass of something in the other hand. Not losing a second to actually see where he had held on, he just kept his gaze fixed forwards.
The party was bigger this week and was being held at Auguste's place. Maybe that's why he got to see his brother enjoying himself. He was very sure there were people in there he had never seen before in his life, which was a hard feat for him as he was on the football team and they went to almost all the parties on campus. They were usually the ones to throw the best-known parties. And they usually took turns between his house, Auguste's, or Nik's. Auguste's wasn't the one closer to College but was the biggest one. He lived there with only his spoiled, arrogant, and beautiful younger brother. And Damen was gone for him the second he first laid eyes on him. He remembered with a sour taste in his mouth the day he had approached the blonde young man in a bar, unaware of who he was. He flirted, ignoring the hard, judging looks he received in return. And the monosyllabic answers. He ended up getting the hint but didn't give up before asking for his number.
"I don't have a phone." The blonde answered as his drink was placed in front of him by the bartender. He grabbed it and then turned to Damen, looking straight into his eyes before taking a sip, never dropping his gaze. Then he turned around and went to meet his friends that were on the other side of the room.
Damen was left gaping and speechless. And now there he was.
Moving to the beat, and it was always harder to look at him and hold himself still. He saw when another man made his way to him and held him from behind. Damen lowered his gaze to the hand in his hip moving against the skin showing under his translucent shirt. He had now his back pressed flush to the man's chest, moving hips from one side to the other with the music, hands up, and holding the man by the hair in his nape.
The man lowered his head to place his lips against Laurent's neck and the blonde leaned his head back, lips parting in what Damen suspected was a gasp.
"Oh, please. You're drooling." A deep voice said by his side as a heavy hand clasped in his shoulder.
He looked around to find Nikandros at his side, but the man was looking forward, at the exact same spot Damen had been just a few seconds ago. And he could recognize a glimmer in his eyes.
"I get what you're feeling." Nik continued. "But you know you should be careful, right? Not only he's Auguste's younger brother but he also rejected you before." He looked at Damen, a knowing look on his face.
"Are you trying to hold me back so you'll have a chance on him?" He meant it as a joke but nonetheless felt the heat in his blood rising. Probably the alcohol quicking in.
"I think what he's trying to say is that you had your chance, now it's ours." He looked at his other side to find Lazar, a starving expression in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, looking at the couple on the dance floor.
Damen gaped at him, he had not even noticed the other man approaching. And who the hell was counting how many shots each of them had? And what were they thinking, suggesting something like this? He had to find a way to-
"Who's that, anyway?" Nikandros interrupted his line of thought.
"Oh, that's Torveld. He's from Patras." Lazar answered with neutrality, making the two other men look at him.
Nikandros was wide-eyed and Damen's brows furrowed. Patras was their sworn rival college. Their students were not invited to these parties, neither was well-accepted to date them.
"And you know that because...?" Damen inquired.
"Oh, that's..." Lazar brushed the back of his neck and looked at the side, shyly. "Uhm, do you remember Pallas?" He smiled guiltily at them.
Damen rummaged through recent memories, trying to place exactly where he'd heard that name before, and why was that relevant now. But before he could come to any conclusions, Nikandros shouted at his side.
"You're not fucking a Patras!" To which Lazar reacted with a flaming blush. And Damen snapped. "Why the hell are you still around here looking like that at Laurent if you're dating?" He could feel the beer and drinks he'd been drinking all night rise up in his throat. The alcohol making finally making his head feel light.
"We're not dating, man!"
Damen ignored him and pointedly looked back at the figures still dancing a few feet in front of him. Torveld held Laurent by the waist, both hands now under his shirt wandering up and down, their hips moving together. Laurent had his eyes closed as the taller man pressed kisses and sucked hickeys against his collar bone and shoulders.
Damen felt tongue-tied at the sight, but he couldn't look anywhere else. The light bruises a striking contrast to the pale skin, the flushed cheeks and swollen lips parting to let at a heavy breathing. Laurent wore incredibly tight dark pants, accentuating his curves, his thighs, his crotch. His hands trailed up, one roaming through Torveld's tighs, the other roaming up to pull at his hair.
When Damen traced the movement with his gaze, he found himself diving into an ocean of blue, deep, and dark eyes.
Laurent was looking at him.