[ he doesn't know who has the upper hand. laurent is stinging with rage, a small explosion of panic and hysteria threatening to burst within the cage of his ribs. he can't seem to get himself under control as he always does, and when he doesn't, someone suffers for it — but sasuke is too strong. with the help of the water and sasuke's own blundering unease, there might have been hope. but pain ignites through laurent's unhealed body at the struggle, fighting off sasuke's grip in the sheer panic of survival, then clinging to him for the very same reason. it hurts to breathe and hurts to hold his breath. to drown in this pool is suddenly of concern of him.
he doesn't have more than a few seconds to dwell on the sheer ridiculousness of this notion, because he's pulled into another memory, this time not his own. it's jarring in its violence, visceral and harrowing. laurent knows right away this is the brother, the spitting image of the man before him, and realizes abruptly the reason for his murder. his heart seizes, every limb going still as he takes in the image of the child sasuke, and even when he returns to the present, the memory burns in his mind.
acutely aware of the press of their bodies, laurent grows rigid with sudden tension. then sasuke moves, sliding away and leaving laurent adrift, though he grows unsteady when sasuke splashes back into the water, rushing to the edge and gripping the pale marble as he throws an accusatory glance over his shoulder. ]
Stay where you are. [ laurent feels breathless, his chest rising shallowly. ] In this state, your Shadow will overtake you and you'll kill me if you leave the water right now.
[ and for some reason, he knows sasuke will stay. he doesn't feel fear — not for his life, anyway. the trepidation squawking inside of him, undignified, is for the close proximity of another body, the familiar yet foreign sensation of being touched, his skin burning in the places sasuke's heat feverishly occupied. he quietly places a lid on his confusion and forces himself to turn, setting his back to the marble, his hand pressed gently to his side as pain lingers. ]
You said I wouldn't understand what happened with your brother. [ and — he doesn't. neither does he expect sasuke to explain. ] You don't need to understand what happened in my past, either. We should agree on this.
[Laurent is assured — he obeys that command, relinquishing the desire to free himself from the pool. The water begins to settle, rippling like glass at their elbows, body now adjusted to the frigid cold though it still aches in his toes. Slowly Sasuke wades forward, maintaining a handspan between them as he puts his back to the marble embankment in turn. It seals to his skin. Then with so much defeat, he sinks beside Laurent until water touches his chin.]
Yet another agreement by your terms. [A stupid, childish statement. He is too aware of Laurent at his side. The heat of another body, the promising entangle of limbs before. He keeps his cheek, still bright red, turned away.] You're asking me if I never want to understand you.
[Settled, he's more aware of the throb of his own pulse in his throat, in his head, calming back down to equilibrium. He feels guilt for the way he has behaved, but that is more familiar. It hurts less than this rejection, however anticipated.]
That I shouldn't even try. Is that it? [He swallows tightly.] Did I hurt you? Just now. I didn't ask whether you were still injured.
[ he stays perfectly still as sasuke bridges the distance, almost coming close enough to touch but stopping just shy of it. this is both disappointing and endlessly relieving. ]
My terms. It's irritating how I always seem to get my way, isn't it? [ to pretend to be above every situation comes second nature to him, but he finds himself struggling with it now, wondering if he's doing a convincing enough job. he's never had such a thought before. ] And why do you want to try so badly? So that you can use this information for your gain? Thank you, but I'd rather not do this with you.
[ he means to say more, but stops, caught off guard by the question. he can't remember the last time anyone sincerely asked that — the last time anyone cared that they'd hurt him. tightness wells in his throat, and he's suddenly too aware of their closeness once more. he raises his eyes defiantly, water dripping from the point of his chin. ]
What does it matter? [ he extends an arm, drifting through the water before his hand rises in front of sasuke. ] My wrist is healed. Your friend Sakura did that for me even though I called her a whore. Feel free to break it again if that angers you. That's all she healed. The rest will take time.
[Words spoken darkly to the water, eyes studying the scatter of light from moon and stars above. He can see Laurent's reflection like this, silver on the surface like a mirror, angles shadowed, pretty even warped by liquid ripples. The movement at his side reflexively draws him to upright tension; he finds himself staring at the offered hand.]
Sakura will handle herself. [If she is to know Laurent, she will have to.] I think you enjoy having names to call people.
[Against his own judgment — and he does not even have the Shadow to blame — Sasuke reaches for that wrist, encircling it loosely with his own fingers as if to test the weight, to remember the crack of bone. Then he lowers it into the water, plunged into cold, still holding long past a companionable touch.]
I accept that you despise me. You have reason to. But anything I learn about you, I'll never share with someone else. [His grasp finally slackens and drifts away.] And I'll always want to know who you are, even if you never let me.
[ sasuke is a liar. he has been through this before, these quietly deceptive moments of ill-defined clarity. it is laurent's own desperation getting the better of him, the loss of something he's never truly known. if he'd stayed with damen, it would have been the same. laurent had not been weaned off his capacity for trust — it had been taken from him with swift brutality, petals ripped from a flower barely open. even to have sasuke's fingers around his wrist now, a touch as innocent as this, comes at a high cost, his pulse quivering beneath the press of sasuke's thumb. ]
I've already shared your secrets. [ he speaks only when sasuke relinquishes his grip, turning to face him. he regrets it, now, after what he's seen, the image of the little boy running from his brother seared into his mind. some things should not be spoken aloud. ] Now you hold mine.
[ it should have been enough to deter sasuke, to disgust and revile. to put an end to all of this. and yet he says he wants to know more, and it stirs something in laurent, something beyond his expression, sitting just outside the range of his grasp. ]
You do know. [ bitterly — ] I fucked my uncle. And I miss the man who killed my brother. You are the only man alive who knows these two truths.
[ he lets that sit between them, lingering, then lifts a hand and touches sasuke's cheek once more, the one reddened from the strike of his hand. his touch is the mockery of a lover's caress. ]
I do despise you. [ his thumb moves to the bow of sasuke's lips, gently stroking, his gaze icy, revulsion reflecting his eyes. his heart feels unsteady, the air too thin for breath. ] You have no idea how much, but I promise you, you'll soon learn.
[ he retracts his hand and turns away, hoisting himself over the edge of the pool to walk immodestly to the table of clean towels, shaking one out and carefully drying himself off. he retrieves his clothes, taking care to fetch the pin from the pile first, and slips on his linen shirt, leaving the laces loose and trailing as he walks to one of the lounge seats and perches there, pulling his legs up and settling sasuke's cloak beside him. the moonlight hits him like a glistening statue, wrathful. ]
[The words, all of them, are spoken with malice at the end of a hammer. Laurent exposing the raw and hurting center of his two truths is so savage even he can tell that injury isn't meant for him. It's self-inflicted, a knife turned the other way around, tearing the fragile air between them. So Sasuke is the guardian of these two secrets; perhaps he won't be the only one to ever know or learn about Laurent, but it won't come willingly off his own tongue.
His cheek is sore when touched, throat working around a swallow at that pretend affection. There's anger in him, growing hot and sooty, but Sasuke doesn't chase it — and with the Shadow far from his mind, it is easier to retain control. He climbs out of the bath as if obeying the order, but his movements are unhurried, economical as he dresses, pulling on trousers and shoes first. His upper body remains wet and bare to the winter cold.]
'I'll soon learn'. What are you going to do? [Prowling closer, he looms above Laurent's perch.] If you're going to continue telling others what you know about me, to use it against me as you suspected I'd do to you, then you should know I've endured that all before. I don't care if people hate me.
[He can sense it better now — that he is attracted to Laurent. That is what he's feeling. The moment in the bath, skin to skin, had cemented it in a way he might have once repressed. Everything about Laurent feels sensual, and brutal, and somehow volatile; it's no wonder. Yet it's not something he can act on when the space between them is so littered with glass.]
I know what happened in your past. Your uncle raped you. [A common enough occurrence in the shinobi world; he isn't stupid.] What you feel toward your brother's killer is complicated, but I understand that too. Do you want me to suffer for this?
If it's violence you mean to return, do it now. Then we'll be even.
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no subject
he doesn't have more than a few seconds to dwell on the sheer ridiculousness of this notion, because he's pulled into another memory, this time not his own. it's jarring in its violence, visceral and harrowing. laurent knows right away this is the brother, the spitting image of the man before him, and realizes abruptly the reason for his murder. his heart seizes, every limb going still as he takes in the image of the child sasuke, and even when he returns to the present, the memory burns in his mind.
acutely aware of the press of their bodies, laurent grows rigid with sudden tension. then sasuke moves, sliding away and leaving laurent adrift, though he grows unsteady when sasuke splashes back into the water, rushing to the edge and gripping the pale marble as he throws an accusatory glance over his shoulder. ]
Stay where you are. [ laurent feels breathless, his chest rising shallowly. ] In this state, your Shadow will overtake you and you'll kill me if you leave the water right now.
[ and for some reason, he knows sasuke will stay. he doesn't feel fear — not for his life, anyway. the trepidation squawking inside of him, undignified, is for the close proximity of another body, the familiar yet foreign sensation of being touched, his skin burning in the places sasuke's heat feverishly occupied. he quietly places a lid on his confusion and forces himself to turn, setting his back to the marble, his hand pressed gently to his side as pain lingers. ]
You said I wouldn't understand what happened with your brother. [ and — he doesn't. neither does he expect sasuke to explain. ] You don't need to understand what happened in my past, either. We should agree on this.
no subject
Yet another agreement by your terms. [A stupid, childish statement. He is too aware of Laurent at his side. The heat of another body, the promising entangle of limbs before. He keeps his cheek, still bright red, turned away.] You're asking me if I never want to understand you.
[Settled, he's more aware of the throb of his own pulse in his throat, in his head, calming back down to equilibrium. He feels guilt for the way he has behaved, but that is more familiar. It hurts less than this rejection, however anticipated.]
That I shouldn't even try. Is that it? [He swallows tightly.] Did I hurt you? Just now. I didn't ask whether you were still injured.
no subject
My terms. It's irritating how I always seem to get my way, isn't it? [ to pretend to be above every situation comes second nature to him, but he finds himself struggling with it now, wondering if he's doing a convincing enough job. he's never had such a thought before. ] And why do you want to try so badly? So that you can use this information for your gain? Thank you, but I'd rather not do this with you.
[ he means to say more, but stops, caught off guard by the question. he can't remember the last time anyone sincerely asked that — the last time anyone cared that they'd hurt him. tightness wells in his throat, and he's suddenly too aware of their closeness once more. he raises his eyes defiantly, water dripping from the point of his chin. ]
What does it matter? [ he extends an arm, drifting through the water before his hand rises in front of sasuke. ] My wrist is healed. Your friend Sakura did that for me even though I called her a whore. Feel free to break it again if that angers you. That's all she healed. The rest will take time.
no subject
[Words spoken darkly to the water, eyes studying the scatter of light from moon and stars above. He can see Laurent's reflection like this, silver on the surface like a mirror, angles shadowed, pretty even warped by liquid ripples. The movement at his side reflexively draws him to upright tension; he finds himself staring at the offered hand.]
Sakura will handle herself. [If she is to know Laurent, she will have to.] I think you enjoy having names to call people.
[Against his own judgment — and he does not even have the Shadow to blame — Sasuke reaches for that wrist, encircling it loosely with his own fingers as if to test the weight, to remember the crack of bone. Then he lowers it into the water, plunged into cold, still holding long past a companionable touch.]
I accept that you despise me. You have reason to. But anything I learn about you, I'll never share with someone else. [His grasp finally slackens and drifts away.] And I'll always want to know who you are, even if you never let me.
no subject
I've already shared your secrets. [ he speaks only when sasuke relinquishes his grip, turning to face him. he regrets it, now, after what he's seen, the image of the little boy running from his brother seared into his mind. some things should not be spoken aloud. ] Now you hold mine.
[ it should have been enough to deter sasuke, to disgust and revile. to put an end to all of this. and yet he says he wants to know more, and it stirs something in laurent, something beyond his expression, sitting just outside the range of his grasp. ]
You do know. [ bitterly — ] I fucked my uncle. And I miss the man who killed my brother. You are the only man alive who knows these two truths.
[ he lets that sit between them, lingering, then lifts a hand and touches sasuke's cheek once more, the one reddened from the strike of his hand. his touch is the mockery of a lover's caress. ]
I do despise you. [ his thumb moves to the bow of sasuke's lips, gently stroking, his gaze icy, revulsion reflecting his eyes. his heart feels unsteady, the air too thin for breath. ] You have no idea how much, but I promise you, you'll soon learn.
[ he retracts his hand and turns away, hoisting himself over the edge of the pool to walk immodestly to the table of clean towels, shaking one out and carefully drying himself off. he retrieves his clothes, taking care to fetch the pin from the pile first, and slips on his linen shirt, leaving the laces loose and trailing as he walks to one of the lounge seats and perches there, pulling his legs up and settling sasuke's cloak beside him. the moonlight hits him like a glistening statue, wrathful. ]
Get out.
no subject
His cheek is sore when touched, throat working around a swallow at that pretend affection. There's anger in him, growing hot and sooty, but Sasuke doesn't chase it — and with the Shadow far from his mind, it is easier to retain control. He climbs out of the bath as if obeying the order, but his movements are unhurried, economical as he dresses, pulling on trousers and shoes first. His upper body remains wet and bare to the winter cold.]
'I'll soon learn'. What are you going to do? [Prowling closer, he looms above Laurent's perch.] If you're going to continue telling others what you know about me, to use it against me as you suspected I'd do to you, then you should know I've endured that all before. I don't care if people hate me.
[He can sense it better now — that he is attracted to Laurent. That is what he's feeling. The moment in the bath, skin to skin, had cemented it in a way he might have once repressed. Everything about Laurent feels sensual, and brutal, and somehow volatile; it's no wonder. Yet it's not something he can act on when the space between them is so littered with glass.]
I know what happened in your past. Your uncle raped you. [A common enough occurrence in the shinobi world; he isn't stupid.] What you feel toward your brother's killer is complicated, but I understand that too. Do you want me to suffer for this?
If it's violence you mean to return, do it now. Then we'll be even.