Work Text:
“Why do we have to be fucking broke?” Nicaise complained.
“Capitalism,” Laurent said dryly.
Then: “Why are you asking that?”
Nicaise waved his hand in the general vicinity of his laptop and crossed his arms. “I’m looking at the required materials for my classes this semester and the price of these textbooks are actually atrocious.”
Laurent frowned and got up from where he was sitting on the couch. He walked behind Nicaise as he said, “Well how bad is it?”
Nicaise moved his laptop so he could see.
Laurent glanced at the number and said, “That’s not horrible.”
“It’s like that for four more classes.”
Laurent fell silent. After a moment, he said, “If it’s necessary—“
“No.” Nicaise said.
“No?”
“I’m not letting you pay three hundred dollars for textbooks, Laurent. Ones I’ll have to throw away when the semester ends.”
Laurent crossed his arms. “Then what do you propose we do?” he said.
Nicaise shrugged. “I’ll buy it secondhand, I guess.”
Laurent raised an eyebrow. “And you know where to get it secondhand?”
Nicaise scowled at him. “I’ll figure it out.” he bit out.
“Well if you need any help,” Laurent started.
“I don’t need your help, it’s fine. I’ll figure it out, Laurent.”
“I’m just saying—“
“Well don’t.” Nicaise glared.
Nicaise was going to figure it all out himself. Without any help from Laurent.
Everything was going to be fine.
Everything was not fine.
Nicaise didn’t know whether he was looking at the right websites or not, because he could barely find any used textbooks for his classes that were cheap and in good condition. He wasn’t even picky, he didn’t mind any writing or annotation tabs or anything, but the less expensive books he managed to find were practically falling apart at the seams.
After two days of searching, he had only found one textbook that was both cheap and not actively decaying. And it was for an elective.
Nicaise eventually had to come to terms with it.
He had to turn to his arch-nemesis—
Facebook Marketplace.
His face was already scrunching up unconsciously as he opened up the site. It wasn’t anything personal, except it was.
Laurent had talked to him before about how he had somehow managed to meet someone on there who wasn’t a complete whackjob. He had needed to buy furniture or books or something, and he had done the transaction through Facebook Marketplace. He had said that they somehow hit it off so well they actually exchanged numbers. When Nicaise had asked who it was, Laurent’s eyes went distant as he said, “You won’t know him. He came and went before I ever met you.”
Nicaise didn’t say anything after that. He didn’t need to. Laurent’s tone said it all. He met someone and they shattered his heart of ice. Ice was cold, but fragile after all; it couldn’t easily be glued back together once cracked.
So yeah. Nicaise held a grudge towards Facebook Marketplace as a whole.
But now—desperate times called for desperate measures, he told himself.
After filtering it and scrolling for half an hour though, he hit the jackpot. He managed to find a seller who had the rest of the books he needed at a low price. They were all finance-adjacent, so it didn’t seem extraordinary that someone would have all of them. Nicaise scrolled through the pictures one at a time and found them perfectly satisfactory.
He cracked his knuckles and typed out a civil private message:
Forkwielder: Hello. I was looking for some textbooks for class, and found that you seem to have all of the ones I’m looking for, namely: [link] [link] [link] [link] these ones. They’re all separate listings though. I was hoping to buy them in bulk altogether. How much would that be? Thank you.
Nicaise hit sent and blew out a breath. Now all that was left was the comparatively easy part: waiting for a reply.
In the end, it didn’t take long for the seller to reply to Nicaise. Some eleven hours later, when Nicaise checked his Facebook again, he saw a notification from a few minutes ago. It read:
Doa26: Oh hey. I didn’t think anyone would actually be interested. Altogether, the price of those would be around forty dollars.
Nicaise narrowed his eyes. Ten dollars a book? There had to be a catch.
Forkwielder: so cheap?
Nicaise got a reply a few minutes later.
Doa26: Well you’re a college student right? I’m not really interested in overcharging someone who’s just trying to get their degree. I bought these at full price so I know how expensive they get
Doa26: Full disclosure, these textbooks are also pretty old. I finished college like five or six years ago. You’d actually be doing me a favor by buying them. I found them while packing my stuff into a new house, but I didn’t want to throw them away. Thought I’d sell them to someone who‘ll actually need them, y’know? I just want to get rid of them.
Nicaise paused, and sat back in his chair. It sounded legitimate enough, but—
Forkwielder: do you always spill your life story to someone who’s buying something off you?
There was a solid minute of no response. Just as Nicaise was starting to vaguely regret being sarcastic to someone he really needed something from, a notification came from his laptop.
Doa26: Haha, you’re funny. Mean, but funny. Well, no I typically don’t make a habit of sharing more information than necessary online, but I don’t really get the impression that you would do much with the fact that I really need someone to buy my old college textbooks.
Forkwielder: well what if you’re wrong. what if I was a stalker and used this information against you
Doa26: You? A full-time college student? Where would you find the time?
Forkwielder: what if I wasn’t actually a college student? not everyone is what they seem online y'know
Doa26: Ominous. Firstly, I would be somewhat flattered to have a stalker caring enough to buy some of my old textbooks I really really don’t need anymore. Secondly, I know you’re a college student because you do have a profile I could check you know. That makes this whole hypothetical thereby void.
Forkwielder: what if I was faking it
Doa26: Your profile?
Forkwielder: yeah
Doa26: Some of your posts go back to half a year ago. I don’t think your profile is fake.
Forkwielder: now who’s the stalker?
Doa26: Hey, you asked.
Doa26: This whole conversation’s gone off the rails. Are you buying the books or not?
Forkwielder: do u think im stupid? course i am
Doa26: Why has your writing gotten progressively less formal
Doa26: I remember when every new sentence started with a capitalized letter and you typed out every word without a single abbreviation. The good old days.
Forkwielder: shut it boomer. where r we doing tjis
Forkwielder: this*
Forkwielder: whatever
Doa26: Can’t do it near my house because I’m in the midst of moving
Doa26: Do you know that bridge near the school?
Forkwielder: yeah
Doa26: It’s not that far from me. You?
Forkwielder: same
Doa26: The bridge it is. I’ll send you the specific address in a bit.
Forkwielder: yeah alright
Forkwielder: and like, thanks or whatever. you’re saving me a bunch of money
Doa26: Aw, was that a compliment? Didn’t know you were capable of such a thing
Forkwielder: no
Forkwielder: shut the fuck up
Forkwielder: i take it back
Doa26: Can’t. Screenshotted.
Forkwielder: what
Forkwielder: ur lying
Doa26: [screenshot.png]
Forkwielder: wtf
Doa26: It will live forever in my memory.
Doa26: And in my camera roll
Forkwielder: if ur phone mysteriously gets hacked and the only thing that goes missing is that picture, it wasn’t me
Doa26: I will keep that in mind.
Doa26: This Saturday at 3?
Forkwielder: …
Forkwielder: yeah this saturday at three
When the fateful day came, Nicaise wore a graphic tee and washed out jeans and carefully styled his unruly hair.
Laurent had walked into the latter midway through, to which Nicaise complained: “Learn to fucking knock, Laurent.”
Laurent crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe, eyes meeting Nicaise’s in the bathroom mirror. “You didn’t tell me you’re going out. Where are you going?”
Nicaise scowled at him. “Getting my textbooks.”
Laurent furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re going to a bookstore?”
Nicaise ignored him.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ll go with you,” he continued.
Nicaise spun on his heel and pushed his way past Laurent. “No. I don’t need you.” he said.
Laurent followed after him. “Nicaise—this isn’t a matter of pride. Those books are expensive. If you need the money—“
“I don’t need the money! It’s forty fucking dollars!” Nicaise said furiously as he shoved his feet into his sneakers.
Nicaise saw Laurent frown from the corner of his eye. “Last I checked, they were three hundred,” he said slowly.
Nicaise rolled his eyes. He grabbed his wallet, phone and keys, and walked to the entrance door. “I found a discount,” he said and it wasn’t technically a lie.
Nicaise could tell Laurent was still frowning by his tone, but he didn’t turn around. “Well—text me when you get there,” Laurent said.
Nicaise opened the door forcefully. As he was about to close it, he looked up at Laurent and said, “Obviously.”
He didn’t give Laurent enough time to reply before he slammed the door shut and locked it with his key.
He thought about the look on Laurent’s face the entire bus ride over.
By the time Nicaise got there, he was ten minutes late. He stepped off the bus, texted Laurent, and walked another five over to the cafe they were supposed to be meeting at.
He opened the door, ignored the chime of the bell above him, and lowered his head to type out:
Forkwielder: I’m here.
When he looked up, it was just in time to see a man look down at his phone and then back up again.
They made eye contact.
The man lifted a hand up to wave at him, an easy smile on his face.
Nicaise stomped over and sat down rudely. “The textbooks?” he said.
The man didn’t seem to mind his manners, or lack thereof; he just crinkled his eyes at the corner, and lifted a bag that Nicaise had neglected to notice.
“Right here, boss,” he said.
“You’re not funny,” Nicaise deadpanned.
The man shrugged his broad shoulders, a seismic thing. “Look inside. See if you’re satisfied.” he said.
Nicaise was already digging through the bag before he even finished his sentence. He flipped through the two most harried textbooks, noting some annotations and writing but no major problems. The spines were all creased with wear, but Nicaise didn’t mind. He didn’t really want to look through all of them—he already scrutinized them enough online anyway—so he slammed the textbook he was holding shut, and dug through his wallet for forty dollars.
“Adequate,” he said.
The man across from him paused. His eyes shifted to the right and glazed over for a moment.
“Hello?” Nicaise said, eyebrow raised. “Earth to—“ he cut himself off, because he abruptly realized he didn’t actually know the man’s name. For a moment, his heart turned uneasy at the fact that he’d met up so rashly with a man whose name he didn’t even know, without any company. Then, he remembered that they were in public—he wouldn’t be able to do anything here.
Nicaise didn’t dare think of the alternative.
The man blinked. “Sorry. You just reminded me of someone for a minute there. Are you alright with the books?” he said.
“Would I be giving you the forty dollars if I wasn’t?”
The man laughed, and it reminded Nicaise vaguely of the bells that he had heard when he first entered. “Fair enough,” the man said.
He took the money and stood up. He was even bigger than he’d looked sitting in that cramped chair, massive both in height and width. Nicaise scrunched his nose and stood up too, unwilling to be looked down upon.
The man smiled amicably and extended his hand. “Damen,” he said. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
Nicaise lifted his chin haughtily and said, “Nicaise. You weren’t as bad as I expected.”
Damen’s smile widened, a dimple creasing his cheek. “From you, that’s practically a glowing compliment.” he said.
“Yes, well, I’m glad you understand that.” Nicaise replied.
Damen’s hand dropped to his side again and he shook his head. “I’m afraid I have to go soon. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I was busy moving.”
Nicaise shrugged uncomfortably. “Well, you do that stupid adult stuff. I’m heading out too. Thanks for the books, I guess.”
Damen waved his hand goodbye. “Message me if there’s any problem with them.”
“I’m cutting off your balls if there’s any problem with them,” Nicaise said mercilessly.
Damen seemed surprised and then he laughed. “Mean, but funny.” he repeated, an echo of their previous conversation.
“I’m sure you’re one of the few who thinks so,” Nicaise replied.
Damen raised an eyebrow. “People don’t think you’re mean?”
“People don’t think I’m funny.”
Damen blinked and then shrugged it off. “Most people would be wrong then.”
Nicaise tightened his hand on the bag holding the textbooks. Damen seemed to notice and said, “Right. I forgot. You can just keep the bag too. It’ll be a hassle carrying the books by themselves.”
Nicaise pursed his lips and turned his head away. “I was going to take it anyway. I didn’t need your permission.”
He heard the sound of Damen’s laugh again, and so he said irritably, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Damen seemed almost surprised and looked down at his watch. His watch. Who even wears a watch nowadays when you have a phone? Rich posers, that’s who.
“You’re right,” Damen said. “I should get going.”
“Goodbye then.” Nicaise replied without hesitation.
Damen raised an eyebrow, then shook his head. “Goodbye, Nicaise.”
As Nicaise watched him go, he was left with the distinct feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time they crossed paths.
A week later, when Nicaise finally deigned to open one of his textbooks, he found something that wasn’t meant to be found. Not by him.
In all actuality, the reason he opened the textbook was not his to begin with. His classes didn’t officially start until another week, so there was no reason for him to even be thinking about school.
However.
A week after he had met Damen, he had received a message from him that seemed unusually frantic.
Doa26: Hey, thiss is Damen. By any chamce, as you were looking through the textbooks did you find a pictyre of some kind
Forkwielder: ?
Forkwielder: wow i didn’t even know you could make so many grammatical errors in one message
Doa26: Nicaise. I’m serious.
Forkwielder: okay okay. um well i haven’t even looked through them so idk
Doa26: Can you look? Please.
Forkwielder: uhh okay i guess but i can’t guarantee anything
Forkwielder: why is it so important to you anyway
Doa26: It just is. I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it. I vaguely remember putting it in one of the textbooks but I
Doa26: I don’t know. It would mean the world to me if you found it
Forkwielder: i’ll look.
Doa26: Thank you.
So that’s how Nicaise got roped into a manhunt against his will.
He sat down at his desk, and flipped through all the textbooks with a patience he normally didn’t have. He didn’t find anything. By the time the last one came up, he was fully prepared to tell Damen that he tried but didn’t find it. He flipped through the pages half-heartedly when bright pink flashed in his vision. He paused. He wondered if he was going insane. He hurriedly flipped back anyway.
And there it was.
Sitting innocuously on page 26, was a photo strip that looked like it had been taken from a photo booth. What gave Nicaise pause were the protagonists of the photo.
On the right, Nicaise absently recognized Damen. He was maybe a few years younger, and a lot more happy. His face was practically glowing in contentment.
On the left—Nicaise sucked in a breath.
On the left was Laurent. Also younger, also happy.
In one of the four shots, Damen was kissing the side of Laurent’s flushed cheek.
Before Nicaise even realized what he was doing, he had already typed out:
Forkwielder: who are you
Doa26: ?
Forkwielder: who the fuck are you and how do you know laurent
There was a pause.
Doa26: I think I should be asking you that
Doa26: Wait did you find the photo
Forkwielder: i asked you a fucking question damen. answer it.
Doa26: Laurent and I
Doa26: We were friends.
Forkwielder: the photo i found begs to differ
Forkwielder: you’re fucking kissing him. i think that goes a little beyond just friends
Doa26: You’re asking all these questions and answering none of my own. How do you know Laurent?
Forkwielder: he’s my brother
There was another long pause.
Doa26: Last I checked, the only brother Laurent had was Auguste.
Forkwielder: well maybe u don’t know him that well
Doa26: I think I know him plenty. He never mentioned you.
Forkwielder: yeah well he never mentioned you either
This time, the pause stretched into an excruciating five minutes. Nicaise refused to be the one to give in first. Finally, Damen replied—
Doa26: How is he?
Nicaise narrowed his eyes. He didn’t really know how to reply.
Forkwielder: that’s not rlly any of ur business is it
Doa26: Nicaise.
Forkwielder: fine. he’s fine
Doa26: That’s good.
Forkwielder: did u think he’d be all heartbroken abt breaking up w you or what
Doa26: So he did mention me.
Nicaise pursed his lips and debated for a minute.
Forkwielder: a little bit
Doa26: What did he say
Forkwielder: nothing rly, just that you weren’t as much of an asshole as you could’ve been
Forkwielder: u met thru fb right
Doa26: Yeah
Forkwielder: he doesn’t talk abt u a lot
Doa26: I see.
Nicaise hesitated for a long time, but he thought about the flustered way Damen texted him about the photo and how genuinely agitated he seemed. It wasn’t a thing easily faked. He sighed, as he typed out word for word:
Forkwielder: I think you make him sad.
There was no response even after ten minutes. Nicaise got irrationally angry on Laurent’s behalf and shut off his phone. If Damen ever messaged him again, Nicaise vowed he would—
A notification sounded.
Nicaise hurriedly tapped on it and saw Damen’s latest message.
Doa26: Can we meet up again? I don’t have any ulterior motives I just want to know more about how Laurent’s been doing. Please.
Nicaise huffed. The audacity of that man.
He let Damen sweat it out for a couple minutes before he typed out painstakingly—
Forkwielder: what time
For their second meeting, Nicaise was actually the first one to arrive. There was no way he was letting Damen take the upper hand here.
He ordered a caramel frappe with extra whip cream, extra caramel and soy milk, and sipped at it until Damen arrived through the door.
There was no mistaking it when he did. Damen was simply too noticeable. He was—big, Nicaise thought disdainfully.
Nicaise watched Damen take in the room, eyes roaming until they stopped on Nicaise. Nicaise didn’t smile or wave and Damen didn’t really either when he sat down. There was no need for introductions between the two of them, so Nicaise got to the point.
“What are your intentions with Laurent?”
Damen choked.
“My what?” he rasped.
Nicaise narrowed his eyes. “Don’t play dumb. You came here for a reason. I’ll ask you one more time and I advise you to be truthful: what are your intentions?”
Damen pursed his lips and didn’t reply immediately. At least, Nicaise thought, he’s giving the question its due consideration.
“I think,” Damen said finally, “that I want Laurent in whatever capacity he’ll have me. I just want him to be happy.”
“And you’re sure you can make him happy?” Nicaise said.
Damen opened his mouth, and then closed it again. “No,” he said truthfully. “But it’s all I want for him. I’m willing to do a great many things for his happiness.”
“Including breaking up with him?” Nicaise said, voice harder than steel.
Damen looked at him solemnly. “Including letting him break up with me,” he whispered softly.
Nicaise shook his head.
Perhaps Damen sensed the disapproval, because he frowned. “What?” he asked, almost defensively.
Nicaise crossed his arms and sank back into his seat. “That’s where you went wrong,” he sighed. “With Laurent, you have to fight him to fight for him. When Laurent loves a person, he loves them with all his being. No take-backs or regrets. If he wants to break up with you, it’s not because he doesn’t love you anymore, it’s because he’s convinced of the opposite. Whatever the case may be, you can’t just let him.” Nicaise said frustratedly.
Damen was still frowning, but he had a thoughtful gleam to his eye.
Nicaise advised, “You have to fight for him a little more stronger. What if he regrets it and wants to turn around, but you’re not there anymore? What would he do then?”
Surprise colored Damen’s eyes. A soft exhale left his mouth.
Nicaise shook his head. “But you found out too late,” he said.
“Laurent’s seeing someone else?” Damen asked abruptly.
Nicaise blinked. “No?”
“So why is it too late?”
There was a certain sheen to Damen’s eyes that spoke of determination and fervor. He repeated, “Why is it too late?”
Why was it too late indeed?
“What are you planning to do?” Nicaise asked.
Damen swallowed, but his voice was steady when he said, “I’m going to fight for him.”
When Nicaise returned home this time, Laurent was standing near the doorway with his arms crossed.
Nicaise took off his shoes and glanced at him. “What?” he said, trying to shove the hint of defensiveness out of his voice.
Laurent looked him up and down slowly, as if expecting some kind of injury or bruise. He said, “You left without telling me.”
Nicaise rolled his eyes and walked towards his room. “I have to tell you now when I go out? Am I still a teenager?”
Laurent followed after him, his footsteps quiet but firm as he walked. “No,” he said, “but I expect at least some kind of message when I buy us lunch and you’re not even home. You know we can’t afford that waste."
Nicaise waved his hand without looking back. “Big deal. So I’ll eat it later. It’s not the first time anyway.”
“Nicaise—“
Nicaise turned around abruptly. Laurent barely managed to avoid colliding into him, coming to a halt rather smoothly.
“What?” Nicaise bit.
Laurent didn’t answer right away. He looked into Nicaise’s eyes, trying to find something in there that Nicaise hoped he didn’t find.
“Who were you with?” Laurent said slowly.
Nicaise pursed his lips and calculated. Two can play that game, he thought.
“The guy who sold me the textbooks.” Nicaise said.
Laurent frowned, but didn’t seem to detect a lie in his tone. “You’re friends?”
Nicaise shrugged, not quite an answer. Laurent didn’t seem to like that either, but before he could say anything about it, Nicaise said first: “Do you want to meet him?”
Laurent’s eyes betrayed his surprise. He said carefully, “You…”
Nicaise turned back around and said, “Vet him or not. I don’t care.”
Before he closed the door to his room, he heard Laurent’s voice say, unnaturally flustered, “When?”
Nicaise paused and looked up. His heart thudded in his throat for a moment, before he replied with nonchalance he wasn’t feeling, “Dunno. Next Wednesday?”
Laurent blinked, then wiped away a strand of unruly hair that was getting into his eyes. “Sure?” he said, not sounding very sure. “Are you coming with?”
Nicaise scoffed. “As if.”
He slammed his door shut a second later. It clicked into place with a loud thud.
He stood there for a minute in the darkness, not bothering to turn on the light. Then slowly, with trembling fingers, he grabbed his phone and typed:
Forkwielder: guess who just got u a date
When Nicaise arrived to the cafe a third time that week, the woman manning the counter gave him a funny look. Nicaise rolled his eyes at her unabashedly, and ordered what he did the last time he came.
Then, like any respectable customer, he grabbed his drink when it was ready and hid in the corner waiting for his unsuspecting victims to arrive. Well, one of them anyway. Damen knew what was going on.
It didn’t matter though. Nicaise knew him, had felt like he had known him for a lifetime already, but he still didn’t exactly trust him. If Laurent seemed even a little uncomfortable, Nicaise was getting him the hell out of there. Even if he didn’t, as long as Nicaise felt like Damen wasn’t sincere enough, or determined enough, the result was the same.
Nicaise double-checked that he’d sent Laurent the right location, and then was left with the arduous task of waiting. Fortunately for all of them, he wasn’t left waiting for too long. Laurent arrived first, head held moderately high, blue eyes roaming the room. Nicaise lowered his head, pretending to be on his phone for the amount of time it took Laurent to choose a seat.
Nicaise hesitantly peered up, only to find Laurent with his back to him. He breathed a sigh of relief, and that was when the door chimed again to welcome Damen in all his unfortunate glory.
Laurent’s head turned instinctively at the sound.
Nicaise was watching Laurent, and so he saw the moment he recognized who he was looking at.
Laurent’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. But he—he didn’t look scared, or angry, or sad.
For a moment, he just looked helpless.
Nicaise lowered his head and typed:
Forkwielder: he said he’s there alr
Nicaise watched as Laurent registered the text message at the same time as the fact that Damen was striding purposefully towards him. It was only then that he looked vaguely tense.
From the angle Nicaise chose, he couldn’t hear everything they said, or even see Laurent’s face—but he saw enough.
For the weirdest—maybe even worst—hour that Nicaise was there, he slowly came to the realization that the two people he was setting up were Damen and Laurent. Laurent and Damen. His brother and a—practically a stranger.
Actually, maybe they were both strangers, Nicaise recalculated, slowly watching with mortification as Laurent’s rigid back slowly seeped into something a little softer, ears warming into something brighter.
In all of his twenty odd years alive, Nicaise had never once seen Laurent as relaxed, as thoughtful, as smitten as he was now. It wasn’t like he changed into a completely different person overnight, Nicaise could occasionally hear Laurent’s witty remarks if he tried hard enough, but it was still distinct enough from his usual self that Nicaise felt properly weirded out.
He slowly came to the vaguely unsettling conclusion that—yes, Laurent most likely still had feelings for Damen too.
It should be a relieving thing, that Laurent had someone like that who he could love and be loved by in turn, and maybe some part of Nicaise was happy, but not the part of him that had to watch the two of them make heart eyes at each other in perfect quality.
For the first time, Nicaise regretted having such good vision.
Nicaise was also starting to understand that—with all the reluctance in the world—Damen was probably going to be his future brother-in-law. It was so gross. Nicaise was happy for them.
Nicaise watched them carefully, and was pleasantly surprised that they actually seemed to talk things out like civilized adults for the most part. He had expected a lot more yelling.
Nicaise knew there were some missing holes here and there, but he also knew it could wait.
The way they were looking at each other, Nicaise had the exasperated feeling that they had all the time in the world.