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 Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2015 11:11 am
Lorne could remember vividly the last time he’d been this fidgety outside of Nadia’s door, pacing from one foot to the other and trying to muster the will to ring the bell, eyes downcast. It’d been the first, even the second time he’d come here when she hadn’t escorted him back herself, worrying that he was making a pest out of himself by coming here, that maybe he was coming at a bad time or interrupting something.
What he was feeling now was almost the same thing, the same kind of insecurities, although the situation itself was a little different - and so was the person. Especially since he hadn’t told anyone he was coming, not even Nadia. This was something he’d decided to do on his own.
Smoothing down his dark shirt and light jacket - he did love fall - he ran his hands once along tight black jeans to try and dry sweaty palms. Then, biting his lip, he finally bit the bullet and visibly winced as he hit the button.
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Auguste was curled up on the couch in an oversized sweater that looked as though it belonged to someone twice his size - but he loved it anyway, the soft white cable knit warm and familiar over the pair of pajama pants he was currently wearing. He supposed he could have gotten dressed at some point, but the day was cool and smelled like autumn, and that meant cozy times snuggled up with a good book or a movie, burrowed in blankets.
What he’d not expected was for someone to knock on the door. Auguste peered over his mountain of blankets at the door, and then slowly unearthed himself, clicking the television to mute and yawning and stretching as he stood, hair cascading down his back in long white strands.
He padded sleepily over to the door and pulled it open.
“Lorne?”
Out of all the people to have expected, Nadia’s boyfriend was not one of them. Auguste blinked at him in surprise, head tilted to the side.
“What are you doing here?”
A smile touched his lips, gentle and friendly. "Nadia's not here, though."
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Although he’d been the one to ring the bell, Lorne stiffened a little as Auguste opened it and appeared in the doorframe. Automatically, a splash of color lit his cheeks, stark against his pale skin. It was his default reaction, as much as he might have hated it. His gaze dropped, and then rose as he caught himself, and he fidgety, winding his hands together in front of him.
“I know.” Of course Auguste though he was there for Nadia. But no. He’d asked her specifically last night where she would be today, and it wasn’t here. And that was fine, ideal really. Any other time he would have loved to see her, of course, but today -
“I. Uhm. I came to see you, “ and his voice got a little quieter at the end, a little unsure. “We haven’t really - had much of a chance to talk, and - and we’re on the same - team now, and we’ve got so m-many of the same friends, and they say wonderful things about you, so - “ Good god he was terrible at this. When was the last time he had legitimately approached someone he barely knew and asked to spend time with them? - the answer was sort of a depressingly resounding never. Even Nadia and Colin and Isaiah had reached out to him at some point before Lorne started bothering them, but Auguste and him, they’d never even had a conversation just between the two of them.
“I just - uh - I wanted to know if maybe you wanted to - hang out, maybe?” The words tasted strange on his lips. Not bad, but strange. His blush intensified. “I-if you’re not busy. If you’re busy I totally understand. This was probably a terrible time, I should have found a way to text you first, I’m sorry.” His voice got even quieter and a little quicker at the end; but still, for Lorne, this was a whole new level of boldness. Nadia and Colin would’ve been so proud.
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Lorne really was a good guy, Auguste had already determined, even as he stood there blinking curiously at the other man in the door. He treated Nadia well, he and Colin adored each other, and he’d always been kind to Auguste, even though they didn’t speak much outside of either group gatherings or when he came over to see Nadia, though Auguste tended to make himself scarce in these times.
He knew? Auguste’s brows drew closer together, confusion obvious in his expression, and the door was opened a little wider as he shifted, head tilted to the side.
He - oh.
“You...you came to see me?” Auguste asked, mouth dropping slightly, because why - why would Lorne come to see him? Not that he objected, or thought that it was a bad thing, just a completely unexpected thing. But the more Lorne talked, the more Auguste started realizing just what it was that he was saying, a little pink flush starting to decorate Auguste’s cheeks as he stared at the dark haired man.
“No!” said Auguste quickly, blurting out the word, then realized how it must have sounded and hastily added, “No, I mean - I mean, I would love to hang out with you, really? You want - you want to hang out with me, seriously?”
He couldn’t stop the bright eagerness in his eyes, mingling with the surprise. “I just - I didn’t think - “ Auguste shook his head quickly, pale hair flitting around his face.
“Please,” he said finally, the word practically vibrating, Auguste’s face flushed. “Please, really, I’d - I’d like very much to hang out with you, Lorne.”
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The ‘no’ at first made him visibly wilt a little, because yup, he’d been right. It’d been a totally terrible idea and he really should have called at first and - oh. Oh. He was saying no to the other part, not to the actual hanging out part. Lorne breathed a tiny little sigh of relief and felt warmed, then, by Auguste’s enthusiasm, especially by that ‘please’, a tentative smile on his face that was no less warm. “You didn’t think?” he echoed curiously with a tilt of his head, and dipped his head as he said, “Seriously, yes. I honestly, I - I meant to come and ask sooner, but - I’m sorry I didn’t. Things have been a little chaotic is all.”
Which was no exaggeration, what between starting school, the youma train, Ploutonion, Archer. His drive for social calls had been all but drained after all that. But he wanted to be friends with Auguste, he really did. For more reasons than Nadia and Colin. He genuinely did seem like a nice guy, and since he was also of Saturn, well -
“I know I have the um, the things here you’d need for a good ice cream sundae, “ because it was one of the fewer things he could actually make for him and Nadia and he was happy to do it. “If you’d like, I mean?” Did Auguste like ice cream? - it was a little more fall now, but - ice cream. “We could watch a movie or, um, talk, or s-something?”
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If there was one thing that the two of them were similar in, it was the fact that they were both extremely expressive. Auguste tended to wear all of his emotions on his face, unheeded by social norms or a sense of self-preservation - which was either a very fortunate thing or a very unfortunate thing. It also meant that he was not particularly good at lying.
He could see, however, the look of relief on Lorne’s face, the smile that followed very endearing. Auguste shifted a little in the doorway, looking a bit uncertain.
“I didn’t think you...that you would be interested in hanging out with me,” he admitted, a little shyly, and then added quickly “Not - not because you’re a bad person or anything, but…”
But because it was the same thing he still struggled with, even with Colin and Nadia - the sense of intruding upon an already well-established group, of being an outsider looking in on something precious, something he adored. Colin had already taken steps to make him feel comfortable, and so had Nadia, but it didn’t mean that the uncertainties disappeared. It wasn’t necessarily something that Auguste was anxious about, but he was a little wistful and shy.
Auguste realized, somewhat belatedly, that he was blocking the door and hastily stepped aside to let Lorn in.
“Oh,” he said with some surprise, and then a smile blossomed across his pale face.
“Please, yes, that sounds like fun. Please, come in, come in, I’m sorry - “
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At the admission, Lorne’s face both softened and turned at least five consecutive shades of red, and he shook his head furiously, hair whipping at his face. “P-pas du tout! Please, no, no, I - I’m sort of - I have a hard time with - “ His one palm was outstretched as he spoke, bobbing up and down as though trying to coax the true essence of what he was trying to express out. But he was already shy, and flustered, and more than a little taken aback that he’d accidentally given someone that kind of impression. “Everyone says such wonderful things about you, “ everyone being Nadia and Colin really, “and I really did want to meet you, but I didn’t even know if you wanted to - “
Because likewise, even with two best friends, he’d been isolated for so much of his life that he still couldn’t totally comprehend that there were not only people in his life, but that more people might be interested in being there too. “I’m sorry, “ he sighed at last, his shoulders drooping a little, a positively meek smile on his face. “I - I never meant to make you feel - I’m a little terrible at - things - “ he trailed off, biting his lip a bit and trying not to cringe.
Auguste had invited him inside. Oh, yes. Rambling. He needed to stop rambling aimlessly in circles. Cher Dieu.
“No, no, “ he brushed his dark hair out of his face and his smile was a little less meek, although sheepish as hell. “I’m sorry. But, uh, yes. Fun. Amusant!”
(He tried to consider the possibilities of drowning in a tub of ice cream.)
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The red was sort of endearing, actually, even if Auguste looked at it with a wide-eyed expression on his face. He’d almost forgotten that, out of three of them - Colin, Nadia, and Lorne - Lorne was the quieter one, the gentler one who was a strong, solid presence in the other two’s life. And while Auguste had just sort of assumed that he was always there, he too had never taken steps, exactly, to deepen the friendship, mostly because he’d just felt uncertain if it was allowed.
But he’d made an error in judgement, because Lorne was looking aghast as he shook his head, dark hair framing his face. The French helped - Auguste’s expression flickered, a little smile tugging at his lips as he committed the sound of it to memory, letting it ebb through his mind. That, paired with the everyone says such wonderful things about you, made Auguste blush, just a little, his pale cheeks pinking.
“No, no,” he said quickly, and a hand stretched out to Lorne, as though to grasp one of his in reassurance, but Auguste wasn’t sure how the other felt about touching, and pulled it back at the last second. “S'il vous plaît ne pas excusé, il est pas votre faute.”
His native language came easily, and again, Auguste felt a strange sense of longing and a desire to fit in, to belong.
He beamed at Lorne, drawing in a breath.
“Yes, much amusant,” said Auguste. “Really, I would love to - to hang out with you, Lorne.”
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For most of his life, Lorne had and hadn’t wanted to be a part of anything - it was a constant contradiction for him, really. On one hand, some part of him desperately longed for the attentions and affections of people, people he could rely on and be close to and maybe even do all the things people normally did with friends. On the other, he so desperately wanted to avoid attention, scrutiny, any semblance of the spotlight. The sheer thought of all eyes on him had more than once been enough to paralyze him, much less the act itself. His relationship with Archer had, in a way, sort of helped, but - it was as much a step backwards as it was forwards, and really most of his solid progress had only come when he’d met people like Aegir and Methone. This was not nearly enough, but it was still light years from the person he’d been a year before.
It was his first time, having friends like this - and he knew how utterly useless he was at this kind of thing, but he wanted to - he didn’t want people like Auguste to get the impression that he didn’t care. So when he saw that hand reach out, tentatively, with fingers that were barely restrained from shaking, he reached out too in a kind of mute invitation - he couldn’t totally bring himself to go ahead and take Auguste’s hand, but he wanted him to know that the option was there. “Je vais présenter des excuses. I am sorry. Again. I really did mean to approach you sooner, “ he said softly, biting his lower lip for a moment before flashing him another smile.
The smile, though, was noticeably brighter when Auguste beamed at him and said something like that. “Je espère que vous aimez glace au chocolat, “ he said, and somehow it was always easier to go without stuttering in French, although it had a definite American twang to it. “I’ve met Pasha, by the way. He’s very sweet.”
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Auguste, for his part, had grown up an only child. He hadn’t really longed for anything, not really; his life had been good, as simple as it was. Quiet, pleasant, and nice, without really much happening in it - satisfying, could have been a word used...but at the same time, not really. He’d only thought that things were satisfying, because he’d never known anything else, otherwise. Auguste had grown up in a house of pearl and glass and that was that.
But now - now he was on his own, in an entirely different way. He didn’t have his parents with him, he was in a new city, he was Thrymr - which was a story completely on its own. And Auguste was finding himself more and more lonely, more and more unfamiliar with the world around him, more aware of just how much he didn’t know. And the longing he felt to belong - especially with this group of people that he had started to hold near and dear to his heart already - scared him and confused him in a way that he didn’t want to think about.
So he didn’t. He tucked it away, somewhere inside, and focused on the matter at hand.
Lorne had reached out to him as well, even though neither of their hands had actually met. But it was something; it was a gesture of good will and kindness and a willingness to grow with one another, wasn’t it? At least, that was how Auguste saw it. And he very much liked Lorne already, just by extension of Nadia, knew that he was a good guy, and had wanted to get to know him more than he was able to express.
“Non, non,” said Auguste hastily, shutting the door behind Lorne and beaming eagerly up at him. “I’m - it’s fine, really, I’m so very, very glad to be able to see you.”
If there was anything that Auguste was, it was truly, painfully honest. He couldn’t lie to save his life, his expressions and feelings often worn on his face - which was why Lorne would see just how pleased Auguste was, his eyes bright and excited.
As if on cue, there was a skittering of paws and claws on the floor, and Pasha came bounding up, yipping happily. Auguste let out a laugh that was half muffled by his hand over his lips, and padded towards the kitchen.
“He likes people,” he said, looking amused. “And yes, I do like chocolate, please, just - make yourself at home, this place is as good as yours too, anyway.”
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The fact that Auguste seemed so unabashedly eager and delighted made Lorne feel a bit more at ease. He tried to tell himself it only made sense, not so much because of Lorne himself as what he was and who he knew. After all, Lorne himself felt a big draw to those of Saturn, a complex little series of emotions and reactions he hadn’t exactly wrapped his whole head around yet. So, maybe Auguste felt a little of that too? Or maybe he was just generally friendly, generally sweet, he’d seemed that way after all, and -
“Pasha!” he greeted eagerly (the loudest he’d been - animals were not at all the same as people), bending at the waist to extend his hands to the puppy, allowing for sniffs and licks and gladly offering the sweet, soft ruffling of fur. He pressed a kiss to his palm and placed it gently between the tiny pup’s ear before he rose again, back to his proper height before he could instinctively roll his shoulders again.
Trying to seem smaller was a habit he was trying to break; Isaiah had actually done him a great deal of good in this. No better incentive than being called ‘Igor’, right?
“Thank you, “ and this was softer and quieter as he shrugged off his light jacket; and it was true, really. How often had Lorne been here, sometimes even spending the night, usually with Auguste either gone or being quiet enough that he wouldn’t hear? His first time with Nadia, not so long ago, had been here too; he could vividly remember the way meal she’d made that night, the way they’d danced in the living room, right up until when she’d led him into her room and - well, you know.
All of this in a place that was Auguste’s home, too, and here Lorne barely knew him. “D-do you too?” It seemed as safe a place as any to try and start as he slipped into the kitchen, gathering all the supplies together for a delightful little pair of sundaes. “Like people. T-they say pets take after theirs owners, you know.”
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Auguste wasn’t sure whether it was a general tug towards Saturn people in general, or just a desire to be close to someone else that pulled him in the direction of Nadia, Colin, Lorne, and Andrew. Whatever it was made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, even if he was uncertain as to the outcome, even if he didn’t quite understand everything entirely yet.
He did, at least, understand the very basic premise of wanting to belong. And Auguste didn’t, not yet, not really, he knew this.
Pasha was yipping excitedly as Lorne petted him, obviously thrilled with the attention. Auguste watched the two of them with a little smile on his face, a hand covering his mouth, and the little kiss was unbelievably endearing, softening his expression. For someone as tall and graceful as Lorne was, he had a very sweet and gentle side to him that Auguste found very nice.
He was also significantly shorter than Lorne, a fact made obvious, even with the rounding of his shoulders. Auguste would have estimated a good eight or ten inches, craning his neck up to beam a smile at the dark haired man, his cheeks flushed with a sort of eager and excited happiness that was unable to be faked, especially in Auguste.
He didn’t even know how many times Lorne had come over by now. Every time he and Nadia had a night together, Auguste would always make himself significantly scarce, either retreating to his room or leaving the apartment altogether, heading to the park, maybe, or to the movies, or anywhere else he could possibly go. Lately, it had been Colin’s place, but before he’d had somewhere to go, he’d just rented a hotel room to stay the night in, allowing them their privacy. He didn’t like to spend the money he had leftover, but he would rather do that than intrude upon something he wasn’t meant to.
Pale brows rose at the question, Auguste following Lorne into the kitchen.
“Do I what?” he asked curiously. “Like people? Yes, very much.” He laughed a little, slightly rueful. “Though really, it’s been a bit of work here, there’s...I’m afraid I haven’t been all that sociable here and now.”
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2015 11:13 am
Really, if Lorne heard anyone call him graceful, he probably would’ve tucked his hard against his face and tried and failed to keep his laughter at bay. Surrounded by dancers, Nadia and Colin and Auguste even, and with someone with the easy, smooth confidence of Isaiah, it was laughable that anyone would look at Lorne in all his awkwardness and hunching and call him graceful of all things.
If he’d known, realized that Auguste had spent nights in a hotel on his account, that wouldn’t have been funny at all - Lorne would’ve been horrified that he’d put him out so far. But then, they didn’t know each other well enough to know either side of the story. And every story had its beginning. They’d have a prelude, true enough, in their past encounters… but hopefully this would be the beginning of something truly meaningful. Or at least, that’s what Lorne hoped.
His hand hovered over a bag of marshmallows, and Lorne flashed a look back over his shoulder, concern blatantly evident. “It’s - a bit hard, isn’t it? - moving to a new place, I mean? I-if that’s what you mean, I mean?” He shrugged his shoulders and blushed a bit, taking the bag and opening it, presenting Auguste with a small handful of tiny marshmallows if he wanted to pluck any to snack on. Already small, they just seemed smaller in his hands, pale and soft. Not the hands of a warrior at all, really. “I, um, just moved back this spring myself - I’ve done a lot of that lately, come to think of it, s-so, uhm -”
It was one thing to try and say he understood, because he did; although Lorne had a few extra layers of awkward shyness and anxiety to get through, and he couldn’t very well blame his lack of a social life before Nadia and Colin on all the moving.
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Auguste very definitely thought that Lorne was graceful. No one could be that tall and not be graceful, at least in his vision, and in spite of his long limbs and tendency to hunch over, there was still something sweet and elegant about him that made him want to be closer, somehow. Maybe it was just that whole Saturn thing, but whatever it was, Auguste very much just wanted to be friends.
(And to belong, but that was an entirely different story altogether.)
If he could avoid it, he wasn’t about to tell Lorne - or anyone - about the hotels. Naive though he was, the idea of Lorne or Nadia or even Colin by extension feeling bad about him going that far was not a pleasant one, and if Auguste could help it, no one would ever know just what he’d done to keep out of the way of his two friends when they needed their alone time. It wasn’t as though he minded letting them have their privacy, though a part of him was rather wistful for some reason that he couldn’t quite place.
He gave a nod in answer to Lorne’s hesitant question, reaching out to accept a little handful of marshmallows. “It’s….an adjustment, is what my mother would say,” he said with a light laugh, popping a few of the tiny snacks into his mouth. “I’m not used to change in general, really, Destiny City isn’t quite like France, after all.”
But he did think he understood what Lorne was trying to convey. The expression on Auguste’s face softened, and he offered the other man a shy smile, a few marshmallows stopping mid-route on their way to his mouth so that he could speak.
“It’s a bit lonely at first, isn’t it?” he said quietly, and he hadn’t really meant to say lonely, but it had come out anyway, the faintest hint of pink dusting Auguste’s cheeks. “I mean...it’s kind of overwhelming, there’s a lot to take in and you don’t really feel like you’re a part of your new place, because you haven’t integrated into it.”
He was still saying more than he wanted to, the pink deepening. Auguste turned hastily away.
“Anyway,” he said quickly, reaching for the fridge door. “Do you need anything from in here?”
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Lorne couldn’t help but laugh with him, lightly, trying to stifle the sound behind his free hand. “My mother would say much the same thing, “ he admitted, “And she did. When my family moved back to France, I mean. She, uhm, grew up in the south, you see - s-so she’d visited France, of course, but - I’m rambling,” he cut himself off, his laughter a bit more nervous and self-aware this time than truly amused.
He listened, though; if there was one thing that Lorne had always been good at, maybe it wasn’t speaking or reacting or doing much of anything… but he could listen, at least. That much, he could do.
And he sympathized. He sympathized in a big way, because he’d been there. Yes, he had Nadia and Colin now, and Isaiah, and Auguste, even just a little - even if he didn’t know him that well - he had Kyle, he had Hver to talk to, he had - but it hadn’t always been that way.
There were two ways Lorne operated, of course; there was over thinking and hesitating, stumbling over every other word, fighting to get his point across in a concise way. Then there was the part of him that, here and there, just acted. Those few and far between times when he went by impulse and refused to allow himself that time to think.
This was one of those times, placing a hand on Auguste’s shoulder, heavy and warm. “When - when I came back from France -” He bit his lip, sucked in a deep breath, and pushed on. “I - uh - won’t get into why I came back, but I - I wanted to try again. This knight thing. I hadn’t, you know. For a long time. Over a year. I’ve never - never been especially good at this, and -”
His cheeks burned. “I got a call for help - I mean, another knight needed help, so I went, and - and I fought - and I - I think I won, but - then, when uh - the battle was over - I didn’t - no one knew me - no one looked at me, and - there were all these knights, these senshi around me, b-but - it was like I was invisible, you know?”
He was smiling, in spite of what he was saying, although it was the kind of smile that ached. “T-things are better, now, but - that was - that was a really terrible feeling.” I understand. I’m sorry you feel that way. Please let me help you.
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He’d known, at least a little, the fact that Lorne had some connection to France. Barring the fact that his last name already was an indicator, the fact that he could slide into speaking the language was evidence enough - though admittedly, Auguste hadn’t been certain at first if it was just the fact that Colin spoke it as well. (Not that he’d ever actually asked why Colin knew it too, but the blond just seemed to have a penchant for languages in general.)
“No,” Auguste said quickly, wanting to reassure him with a hasty smile. “No, you’re not rambling, don’t worry, I like hearing what you have to say.”
Which was undeniably the truth. Auguste was not a fluent or good liar, and most of the time the idea to lie never crossed his mind in the first place.
He did not have the same support system that Lorne did. Nadia and Lorne and Colin and Andrew were all wonderful people that Auguste was starting to care for very deeply, and not just because they were his comrades-in-arms - but he still felt as though there was a barrier he couldn’t cross, a line drawn in the sand that prevented him from stepping any nearer. It was like watching something truly beautiful happening and being unable to do more than just stand on the other side of the glass and observe.
His back to Lorne, Auguste was all too aware of the difference in height, his fingers stalling on the still closed refrigerator door, stiffening slightly under the hand that touched his shoulder - not out of distaste (Auguste was, in general, a very tactile person who both enjoyed and craved physical contact most of the time) - but out of surprise.
And he knew. He knew what Lorne was saying, because he felt it, deep within his chest, like a physical ache that he tried to pretend didn’t exist. A desire to belong, to make a difference, to do something other than just stand there and watch what was happening - but the disconnect was that he couldn’t seem to change that. The feeling of stagnation was thick in his throat, and Auguste was not a crier, but he sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers sliding a little on the door handle.
“How, though,” he said softly, and it was steady, not trembling, but there was a note of ruefulness to it, as though Auguste had already accepted the fact that some things were just simply not meant to be.
“How do you become visible?”
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Lorne feared a bit, at first, that he might have breached a line he shouldn’t have. But then, he heard the way that Auguste breathed in, and that question, utterly so ruefully, so painfully -
He saw a lot of himself in that. Even if he’d resolved again and again not to give up, in any sense, Lorne knew his feelings, the ache behind them, even the resignation. In some ways, the same way he’d resigned himself to being less than, no matter what anyone in the team might have said to him. He could not contribute to the team the same way everyone else did, and he didn’t know even with Hver’s help that he ever would.
It made him think back to Isaiah - Scholomance, sorry - , shakily telling him about his wonder and the panic attack he’d suffered there. And Lorne’s gut reaction then was the same it was now, without allowing himself the time to think; he quite simply leaned down and wrapped his arms around Auguste, round around his shoulders, his cheek resting somewhere in his hair, a kind of soft smile on his face, making a play at reassuring.
“I can’t promise to fix it,” Lorne said quietly, “But I can promise you that I see you. - and - and talking, that’s - it’s a step in the right direction - and - it’s okay to talk to me. It doesn’t matter what it’s about. I like to listen. I know it doesn’t fix things, or make it go away, but - ”
Hver’s words suddenly struck him, tumbling from his memory, slapping him with their sudden clarity.
“ - that, I can do, “ he finished breathlessly, squeezing Auguste’s shoulders a little tighter.
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He stood there, not stiffly, or tensely, but quietly, his shoulders hunched in a way reminiscent of Lorne and making him look even smaller and younger than he already was. Auguste was staring at the refrigerator without actually seeing it, his fingers absently smoothing up and down the plastic handle, and the little, rueful smile was still on his face.
How do you go from invisible to visible?
He wasn’t sure if there was even a way. Weren’t some things just meant to be one way, and that was that? Sometimes there was no changing things, sometimes things just wound up the way they were and one had to live with the consequences. Auguste had already resigned himself to nothing changing, especially since he didn’t know how to change them in the first place.
Except -
Except arms were sliding around him from behind, warm and secure. Not the soft, slender arms of Nadia, nor the firm, muscular arms of Colin, or even the thin, lazy arms of Andrew - but instead unfamiliar arms that settled warmly over his shoulders. Auguste’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat, and he froze entirely, his heart clattering in his chest.
He wasn’t unfamiliar with hugs. He loved being close to people, loved curling up next to them, sharing their warmth - but when it came to both Lorne and Nadia, Auguste had held back, deliberately, because he hadn’t been sure. And he held back with Colin too, though not as much now, not when he was spending more time with him, and knew that it was okay to lean a little closer. But Lorne and Nadia were on their own special level, Lorne especially, because Auguste hadn’t wanted to intrude, or assume. He’d left them alone while still offering smiles and support from the sidelines.
Because that’s where he’d always thought he was.
Lorne smelled of pine and, a little more subtly, like books - like the dusty, quiet scent of a bookstore, gentle and reassuring. Auguste felt his eyes flutter, falling half-lidded, and he stayed where he was, the stiffness from surprise easing away.
A hand lifted, hesitated in mid-air, and then came to a rest on Lorne’s arm, Auguste’s heart beating very fast, though he felt strangely calm. In spite of his shyness, in spite of his awkwardness or uncertainty, Lorne had a peculiar kindness that seemed to seep into Auguste, gently washing away some of his doubts. Some lingered - nothing was ever solved so quickly - but others just melted away, and his breath stuttered out of him, Auguste inhaling another sharp breath.
“Do you...see me?” he asked softly, so soft it was barely audible. “Do you...really see me?”
His fingers tightened on Lorne’s arm, a subconscious gesture.
“I don’t feel like anyone does, not really,” he whispered, and an edge of sadness tinged his voice unintentionally. The hand on the fridge fell away, limp at his side. “I just feel like I’m watching from the sidelines, most of the time. Like I can watch, but not take part.”
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For the second time, Lorne’s fleeting, impulsive side had finally paid off; Auguste had tensed, but had not pushed him away. Much like Isaiah, actually, he slowly relaxed, slowly responded, reciprocated, and he wondered if maybe the situations were really so different. Isaiah was a man that was clearly hurting, and in this moment, in this time, he could see at least that Auguste was clearly hurting, too.
He didn’t understand all of Isaiah’s pain, much of it too deep for him to grasp, although he tried, especially when it came to their joint struggles as knights of a planet of death; he tried to just support him and be a good friend to him, even if he knew there was so much beneath the surface that he had yet to see. Just as even if he understood Auguste’s loneliness, he couldn’t know the depths of his aches, he couldn’t say their feelings were exactly the same. But he could still try and support him, give what he had to give and hope maybe it would be, if not enough to heal, then at least enough to soothe.
“I do,” he murmured warmly, acutely aware now, more than ever, how small Auguste was - at least in comparison to him - it was one thing to see another person. It was another entirely to hold them. “Especially now. - I felt that way most of my life, you know,” he admitted, and that was not the kind of thing he’d come out and admitted to Nadia and Colin. Affection was one thing, friendship was another… and up until this year, Lorne could not pretend he’d ever really had a true friend beyond his own cousin. “I’m not - I’m just - I’m not good with people, you know? I try, but I - I’ve gotten better, but I - “
He paused. Drew a breath. And tried. “I was... very lonely. For a very long time. So I - at least - I understand what you’re probably feeling, at least a little - and - and I see you - and I have seen you, I - especially now, I - you’re part of Saturn. Just like the rest of us. I’m just -”
Lorne stopped and laughed in his too-soft way, squeezing Auguste’s shoulders lightly again. “I think, maybe - maybe we’re a little too alike? - maybe that’s why? - but I am here. I do see you, Auguste, I do. Please believe me when I say that.”
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He had, even though Lorne probably didn’t know this, come to Destiny City for the very same reason, or at least part of one. A fresh start, a new beginning. A chance to start over, or again. Auguste hadn’t been aware of his other identity until after living in the city for a while, but he’d come here initially to just...be someone else. His secrets, although not really all that large to anyone except himself, were buried deep inside his heart because he hadn’t wanted to dwell on them.
Fresh start. New beginning. He hadn’t wanted to look backwards, but here he was, doing just that - and not even taking that step forward. Instead, he was just stuck in the same place, unable to move forward, and unable to move backwards. He couldn’t go home, but where was he now? He lived with Nadia, yes, and he was growing to care for her and this apartment more each day, but a house was not the same as a home.
I do. Two simple words that shouldn’t have meant as much as they did - but just hearing them sent a wave of warmth over Auguste, his eyes widening momentarily before they fluttered half shut again, and he took a breath, biting his lip to keep from making a sound. A steady flush had begun to creep into his cheeks, overtaking the faint pink so that it was now a deeper red, mostly around his ears.
He understood. He knew the terrible sense of aching loneliness that welled inside Auguste’s chest, because Lorne had felt it himself. It was like a physical weight bearing down on him at all times, suffocating and cloying, edging around each and every thought so that they were all tinged with a sense of sadness.
And he liked being held, even by Lorne, whom he tended to be shy and reserved around, because physical contact was a way of expressing things that sometimes couldn’t be said in words. Auguste had relied on soft and gentle forms of physical contact for most of his life, but none of it compared to the contact he got from his friends here. He’d never had this sort of connection with anyone before, or at least, never had the chance to be close to anyone.
Auguste’s second hand rose and, after hesitating only a minute, he let it rest beside the first on Lorne’s arm, leaning back against him rather shyly, holding on more securely than he had before. He still wasn’t crying, but his expression was one of mingled disbelief, hope, and a quiet yearning.
“Being alone…” He struggled to find the right words. “I don’t like being alone. But I just - I felt like I was...stepping in somewhere I shouldn’t.”
He shook his head, just a little, worrying at his lip.
“I want to belong.”
I want to be seen.
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Lorne smiled to himself, and cheek still resting against the top of Auguste’s head, he rubbed lightly against it - a tiny little back and forth gesture, but still more than he would’ve done for anyone outside his social circle. He didn’t want to be biased, exactly, but it was true - those of Saturn just inspired a different kind of comfort level in him, verbally and physically, and for reasons he couldn’t totally place. “I understand. - I really, really do, “ he half-whispered, and for the simplicity of his words, depths of them, the aches that had gone long untended to before his return to the city - and even after, for a time - could be felt, because being surrounded by warmth and love now hadn’t made him forget.
That was the other tricky thing about Lorne, and it was something he was just beginning to realize about himself; he was something of an emotional sponge. Pain and sorrow seeped into him, and once they were there, it took a lot for them to leave. Even then, traces of it would cling like oil, thick and choking, and there was just nothing that could be done about it. In this case though, he was almost a little grateful for it. If it made it easier in any way to connect with Auguste, to maybe help guide him past his own loneliness and find some sort of comfort or even closure - then he’d be okay with it, being the ‘dirty sponge’.
“But I promise you. You are not somewhere that you don’t belong. You’ve always belonged, Auguste. It might not always feel like it, but I promise you - you do belong here.” He planted a chaste, sweet little kiss at the top of the boy’s head - nothing romantic, but - his cheeks burned regardless, even if they both had to know there was nothing more profound than a gesture of affection between what he hoped constituted now as friends rather than two ships passing in the night. “What you’re feeling, though, I - I’m not saying you’re wrong either, because I’d - I’d probably feel the same way, if I were you. And - and you’d probably be saying the same thing to me. So just - just try and remember that - and don’t ever be afraid to talk to me - I really don’t bite.”
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2015 11:35 am
The affectionate touch of Lorne’s cheek against the top of his head made Auguste feel very warm and fuzzy - because even if words were hard, again, physical touch was something softer, quieter. He let his eyes fall briefly shut at the gestures, his fingers curling around the taller man’s arms, and he felt strangely small against him, knowing that Lorne must be hunching over an awful lot just to hug him.
Could it be as simple as that, though? As accepting he had a place here, not just in this apartment, but just in life? He’d grown up with decent parents. He’d had a good life, a privileged life. He’d had, at least, the comfort level conducive to a healthy childhood, with - perhaps not doting parents, but at least kind ones that tried to make sure that he had all of the necessities needed - and some not needed. It had all been very satisfying.
But satisfying was not enough. Satisfying was not equated to good, or meaningful. It just was. And he’d known that, somewhere in his heart. Maybe that was why he’d chosen Destiny City as his new place to go. Maybe that was why he’d decided here, of all the places in the world, this was where he stubbornly wanted to live in.
And now...now he was surrounded by warmth on all sides, and all Auguste wanted to do was embrace it, bask in it, let it cover him. He’d restrained himself, for the most part, especially around Lorne and Nadia and Andrew, even Colin, in spite of being told otherwise, multiple times, that it was okay. Auguste himself had said it was okay - okay to watch from a distance, okay to adore from a certain stand, but no closer. Look, but don’t touch. House, but not home.
Friend, not family.
But - but here was someone who was shyer than he was, more anxious than he was, less confident than he was - maybe - and all Lorne was doing was attempting to reassure Auguste. That gentleness that he had seen in the dark haired knight was not something to be taken lightly, nor overlooked - it spilled out now, in a direction Auguste had not thought possible, towards him. Soft, sweet, and utterly pure of heart, nothing more, nothing less.
It made his chest ache, his heart throbbing. Auguste’s fingers shook, just a little, at the kiss to the top of his head, which made his lashes flutter, lips parting in surprise.
Don’t be afraid.
Was that what had held him back all this time? Fear? Of what exactly?
He couldn’t answer that. Auguste felt a sudden rush of emotion, more than he’d felt in so long that it almost overwhelmed him, and with a soft sound, he twisted in Lorne’s arms, spun around, and buried his face against the other man’s chest, hands closing into fists against him.
He wasn’t crying. But Auguste stood there, feeling, for the first time in a long time, that he did not have to ask to do this - that he did not have to ask if it was okay to lean on a - friend. Instead, he just closed his eyes, and exhaled a long, slightly shaking breath.
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The longer that Lorne was surrounded by the people he had come to care about, the more he came to realize how much satisfaction he drew from moments like this, times where he actually - it sounded selfish, saying it like that, but that he got to feel useful. He wanted so badly to be able to contribute something, anything. It was harder with Nadia and Colin; they were proud, strong, and confident, and when they faltered they did not tend to do it in front of him, if it ever happened at all. There’d been tiny slips - Colin after Ploutonion’s corruption, Naida when they’d gone to her planet after the youma train - but his embraces and soft words had nothing on all of the times they’d dropped everything to come and help him, all the comforting words and embraces and patience in the world compared to his tentative hugs and reassurances.
Not that he faulted them for being strong. He just wished he was stronger and more capable, that was all.
Isaiah, too, projected confidence, but he’d seen it that night on the roof, that the man, the knight, was much more delicate than he let on - physically and otherwise - and he still vividly remembered the surge of something delightful that’d rushed him when Scholomance hadn’t pulled away, when he’d let himself be comforted and sink into that embrace. It was that kind of feeling now, a small gasp of surprise escaping him when Auguste whirled; but he did anything but reject him, wrapping his arms more securely around Auguste to tug him closer. Lorne’s own long, lanky limbs were sometimes frustrating in his sheer inability to utilize them, lacking the kind of training many of his teammates did - but they were effective for hugging, so wrapping someone so small more effectively in all his warmth.
“It’s okay.”
He reached up with a hand, less tentative now and more simply soothing, stroking Auguste’s surprisingly soft white hair, quietly enjoying the way it fell between his fingers like water. His cheeks burned, of course, but they almost always did.
“It’s okay. Really.”
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Auguste had seen none of these slips - in part, because he hadn’t been around for them - but also because he just hadn’t had the opportunity to see that all of them - Colin, Lorne, Nadia, and even Andrew as well - were just as flawed and troubled as he was. His idealistic view of them meant that he only really saw the good in them, and this was not a bad thing - but it was also not always a helpful thing. It never did anyone good to put people on pedestals, after all; not when they were all struggling in their own way to do things. Auguste had just been so focused on one thing, that he’d forgotten the rest.
And boy, did he understand the sentiment of wanting to be stronger. It ate away at him, though he always tried to pretend that it didn’t; that he was just fine with things the way they were, that he didn’t need to have anyone take care of him. He could do things on his own - except he couldn’t, not really. He just wasn’t enough, in any sense of the word.
Lorne’s arms still felt unfamiliar as they wrapped around him. Colin was firm and muscular and the warmth was all encompassing with him, whereas Nadia was sweeter, curvier, softer. Lorne was taller than them both, but his embrace did not make Auguste feel awkward, nor did it make him feel uncomfortable. If anything, he sank more into that hug, his fisted hands curled beside his face, tucked under his chin as he burrowed against the other man.
A hand was stroking his hair. His eyes fell half-lidded, a breath escaping him, and Auguste could hear the gentleness in Lorne’s voice, tinged with a kind sort of firmness and reassurance.
It’s okay.
He didn’t know how long they stood there, in the little kitchen of the apartment, Auguste closing his eyes after a few minutes. It could have been mere moments, or it could have been hours; he lost track of time unintentionally, just letting the tension ease from his shoulders; letting the weight of the world ebb from his thoughts.
Eventually he lifted his head, taking a shuddering breath, and stepped back, though it wasn’t all the way at all, and his hands remained curled against the front of Lorne’s torso. Auguste wasn’t looking at him, his face turned away so that his pink cheeks were only half visible behind a curtain of white hair.
“Sorry,” he said softly. “But…” A breath, drawn in.
“Thank you. Really, Lorne….thank you.”
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It wouldn’t have mattered which it was, seconds or hours; Lorne would have treasured every moment, savoring each little bit of tension that eased from Auguste’s shoulders. It was, to him, inexplicable that he could even do this for another person, especially someone he cared about, to be able to provide such a service to them through something so seemingly simple.
When it did end, as his friend - he could call him that now, surely, yes? - pulled back, Lorne couldn’t help but smile at his apology, tilting his head to a side quizzically, hair falling in his face. “Auguste.” He reached up and pushed his hair gently behind his ears, thumb stroking at his temple. “Don’t be silly. You have nothing to apologize for - seriously.”
Especially since he might have unknowingly just helped Lorne with his own dilemma, curiously enough. He’d have to mention this to Hver when he met her again… one on a long list of things. But that was one ‘homework’ assignment complete. “We’re - we’re friends. This is what we do. Or, I mean, I - it feels like the right thing, to do I mean.” Not that he had a lot of friendship experience, technically. “You know? - I’d like to be here for you, if I can. A - a hug, or a talk, or - or a silly movie, or... - or anything.”
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His eyes fluttered at the way Lorne tucked his hair away - such a small, simple gesture that made his chest tighten, that made him long for just the quiet reassurance of friendship. It wasn’t like he’d ever even had people that made him want to be close to them - this was all so very new, and unfamiliar, and yet...and yet, he wanted to feel more of it. It wasn’t exactly scary, not really, just…confusing. Unexpected.
We’re friends.
The thought alone brought warmth to Auguste’s chest, a fuzzy, happy sort of feeling. Auguste’s cheeks were still pink, but he finally turned his head to look up at Lorne, his expression softening from one of shame to one of gratitude, clearly evident in his eyes (it was always so clear, so blatantly obvious what he was feeling all the time; sometimes Auguste wished he could hide things better, that he could lie better).
“We’re friends,” he said, and there was the faintest touch of wonder in his voice, as though he couldn’t quite believe such a thing. A little smile tugged at his lips.
“All of those things,” said Auguste softly. “I’d like all of those things, because...because we’re friends.”
The same soft, vague note of wonder, of awe. Auguste took a breath and then eased himself up onto his tiptoes and just managed to graze Lorne’s cheek with his lips in a brief, butterfly-light kiss. He couldn’t quite get all the way, but Lorne was at least hunched over anyway, which made it easier.
“We’re friends,” he said, for a third time, this time the happiness brightening his eyes, his face, and the rest of him.
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It was funny how the more he talked to himself, the more he saw himself in Auguste. Achingly so, really. Maybe not in all ways, but in the ways that mattered. He knew that look, the one of gratitude, the warmth he’d felt before a thousand times over when his friends had come and begun to etch his loneliness away, one layer at a time.
He laughed softly as Auguste kissed him, and the feather-light brush of lips did not make him at all uncomfortable, although his default response was still naturally to blush and blush hard. But it was nice, warming him from the inside out, making him feel both like he’d done something truly good and that he’d taken a friendship he’d badly wanted to make more of and deepened it.
“Yes. Yes, we are,” and he confirmed it again, as warmly and brightly as ever, his voice still peppered by laughter. “So then - any time, then. Auguste. Any time you need anything, don’t hesitate to call,” he said, and got a little firm, but gently. Because he knew how he worked, hemming and hawing over his phone. It was a wonder it hadn’t broken yet for the amount of times he’d flung it away from himself. “It will never be a bother. Okay? - I promise.”
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Lorne blushing was something that Auguste was growing more familiar with - and he found it rather endearing, because Auguste only blushed at certain times, usually in times of great emotion or whenever he was unduly flustered. But Lorne, it seemed, blushed a lot, and blushed hard, whenever he did, and for someone so kind, it was really very sweet.
The laugh was nice. It made Auguste feel that same sort of fuzzy warmth in his stomach, and his eyes crinkled as he smiled up at Lorne, beaming brightly at him with a lot more relaxation than he had initially. There was still a certain sense of hesitation - he wouldn’t be leaping to hug Lorne anytime soon, or snuggling up to him on a whim (though maybe, hopefully, he could get to that point sometime, even if he would always be a little reserved when it came to both him and Nadia - he didn’t want to get in the way, after all) - but maybe he could…lean a little, or touch his shoulder, or just…relax around him.
The firm reassurance was necessary; Auguste’s mind had already worked out that he would only call when it was necessary, and never earlier, and the faintest tinge of pink touched his ears and then his cheeks, this time out of a quiet sort of embarrassment that Lorne knew what he was thinking and had preemptively tried to stop it from happening. But Auguste appreciated it nonetheless.
He could not possibly say how grateful he was, or how much it meant to him. Auguste’s expression slid from something bright and pleased to something softer and gentler.
“Okay,” he said quietly, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “Okay.”
Another little intake of breath, and then an exhale. Auguste tilted his head until his forehead was leaning against Lorne’s chest, a soft laugh escaping him, almost watery, but not quite.
“You’re a good man, Lorne. A really good man.”
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Posted: Fri Oct 23, 2015 7:28 pm
“I’m - oh - “ The praise flustered him a bit. although he didn’t hesitate to slid his fingers through Auguste’s hair as he rested against him again. Later, he might hesitate a little before acting again, like he tended to - always thinking and always much too hard about everything - but right now, at least, he knew this was okay. More than that, it seemed wanted. “Th-thank you, but - I’m not really anything - I - I’m trying to be - I want to be.” There was no point in lying, not when he was so transparent to begin with. Lorne gave kind of a helpless smile.
Nothing special. That’s what he was, and Lorne was - if he could still make a difference, help his friends somehow, still mean something to all the amazing people that had somehow come to surround him, then he was fine with that. He could go the rest of his life not doing a single extraordinary thing with no regrets if he could just come into his own and be able to give something back. That’s right. He didn’t want to do anything special, he just - the background was fine as long as he found a way to do something. If that something was things like this, then it was more than enough.
It made him feel good, though, to see Auguste relaxed around him, to see sides of him he hadn’t yet. Were the sides that anyone had seen at all? - or was it simply because they were so alike? It didn’t really matter. Lorne was not the type who wanted to keep everything to himself; selfishness and envy just didn’t suit him.
“I don’t even know what types of movies you like,” he admitted sheepishly, a soft peal of laughter slipping past again. “I came suggesting movies and I have no idea what you like. I’m so sorry.”
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(He really, really liked it when people toyed with his hair, in whatever manner it was. It didn’t even have to be anything intimate - it could just be someone braiding it, or twisting a strand around their finger, and it pleased him, made him feel very warm and fuzzy inside.)
“No,” said Auguste, and he sounded quite certain, as though this was just a simple fact, even if his face was currently buried in Lorne’s chest. “No, you are a good person. You’re special, like - like Nadia, and Colin, you’re - you’re like…” He tried to think of a good metaphor. Colin was like bottled lightning or sunshine. Nadia was like a burst of a rainbow against a cloudy sky. And Lorne -
“You’re like the clouds,” Auguste said, and he lifted his head to look up at Lorne, his expression alight with happiness. “Most people just overlook the clouds, don’t they? They’re just there, and people always think that they cover up the sun or the sky, but they bring the rain, and the rain is what keeps the world going. And clouds help to make rainbows, and lightning, and they protect the sun.”
Since he hadn’t actually said what he thought Nadia and Colin were, this last part was probably unclear, but Auguste just smiled brightly, his hands curled against his palms against Lorne’s chest.
“That makes you special,” said Auguste decisively, and he would have leaned in and nuzzled closer like a cat, just because he was so happy, except he refrained.
His laughter rang out alongside Lorne’s.
“I like dance movies,” said Auguste truthfully. “And musicals. And fantasy movies, and action movies - and really, just about any movies.”
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No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t special like them, by any accounts. Really, of all the people on their team… did they get less special than him? Again, not that Nadia or Colin or anyone really made him feel that way. It was just accepted, the same way one comes to accept that the sun rises and sets on the horizon. (The sky imagery was really just coincidental.) Any sort of specialness he had was really just a reflection of the shine of the people around him, and Lorne didn’t think this was necessarily a bad thing, just -
But then, there was Auguste, calling him special, looking up at him and saying something so thoughtful, so sweet, so - Lorne’s cheeks burned, they burned like fire, and perhaps a little stupidly, he felt a little choked up over it. His eyes, yellow and too bright right now, would have dropped, but his gaze had already dropped to look at Auguste, small against his chest and radiating happiness. “I… oh, I… “
He was smiling, vibrantly but shyly, looking off to the side and then back again, taking a deep breath and trying not to allow himself to be too swept up by it. “I - thank you, I - you’re quite - y-you’re very good with words, “ he said quietly, taking a minute and just sort of - hugging him again, this time as thanks. Whether or not he could actually accept ‘special’, that didn’t matter so much as someone as sweet and thoughtful taking the time to say those words at all. “You are, too - s-special, I mean.”
Dance. Musical. Fantasy. Action. Lorne’s smile was warm and thoughtful, his head tilted to a side as he admitted, rather quietly, “I actually - hah - “ he paused to laugh, just a little. “I like them too. I mean, all of them - I mean I haven’t really seen dance movies, but - I like musicals.” A hint of shyness slipped back in, the burn returning to his cheeks. “Actually, I, uhm - I did show choir, I mean, back in high school - believe it or not.”
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It was clear - blatantly obvious - that Auguste meant every single word of what he’d said, however childlike and naive the comparison was, how simple the metaphors were. But he’d always been relatively visual, associating people to different words and meanings so that he could better remember them and understand them - and Lorne was no exception. With his reddened cheeks and his look of surprise that turned into pleasure, he was what Auguste had thought - the clouds, often overlooked at first, but in reality strong and powerful and beautiful.
And gentle, when they wanted to be. Auguste was still looking up at him, and he beamed a smile at the other man, his eyes crinkling at the corners. But this was momentarily lost in the embrace, and Auguste accepted it without hesitation this time, relaxing into it with maybe a little less shyness and hesitation than before.
Lorne was a good man. That was a fact that Auguste found unchangeable.
“Special people that...that have found themselves, right?” he asked, as he leaned back, and the smile had softened a little to something more quite and gentle. “And found each other.”
Lorne being special did not diminish Colin or Nadia being special, nor vice versa. Auguste gave Lorne’s waist a last squeeze and then let his hands slip away tucking them against himself because he was trying now not to be overbearing or too dependant on someone else. He gave a little laugh, eyebrows raising, however, cheeks slightly pink.
“You were in show choir?” he repeated, and his eyes were gaining that starry eyed look that he usually reserved for when Colin was out onstage as the prince. Auguste was now rapt with attention towards Lorne, his gaze bright.
“That’s amazing,” said Auguste breathlessly. “I just did a bit of dancing growing up, I always wanted to do show choir, though. Did you like it?”
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Those words would stay with him, whether Auguste knew it or not - special people who found themselves and each other - and whether Lorne at all believed he was special or not, the thought made him smile, was enough to warm him from his toes to the top of his head, some of it escaping through another peal of soft laughter.
“I like that.”
Show choir though. His cheeks burned brighter at the look Auguste gave him, completely unused to being gazed at in such an unabashed, glowing way. It flustered him, but it wasn’t really a bad kind of flustered. “I-it’s not really… I mean… I did, “ he admitted with a shy little smile, fidgeting a bit and biting idly at his lower lip. “I haven’t done it for years, but… “
He took a deep breath, chuckling softly as he admitted, “It was really, uhm, kind of out of my element? But the teacher, he kind of pushed me to give it a try, and… it was hard for me, but the good kind.” Kind of like being with Nadia had been; a little scary, but rewarding, never too much, just enough to push himself a little harder and a little further. “I wouldn’t mind doing it again, maybe. But I’m really out of practice, so, “ his cheeks burned hotter still.
“Dancing, though - I really - I really admire you guys. I mean, for your dancing. I really like watching it, but, uh, I don’t really - I can’t at all. Dance, I mean.”
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Auguste had no shame in how exciting he found certain things. So far, his starry eyed appreciation and awe had really only been exposed in his observation of Colin and his dancing; but traces of it were here now, in his bright blue eyes, looking up at Lorne with a mixture of wonder and curiosity.
“That’s wonderful,” he said breathlessly, and there was that honesty again. He wasn’t just saying it as a way to be nice, it was clear that he meant it. “That’s definitely something you should do again, I think that would be very, very good! I would love to come and watch - oh,” he added quickly. “I mean, you know - as long as you didn’t mind.”
Auguste’s hands lifted, and he let them rest on Lorne’s arms very lightly.
“I think it really would be lovely to hear you sing sometime.”
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“Oh, I -” He could not lie. Auguste’s excitement was a little contagious, really - which was sort of funny, because before now, he hadn’t really given it a whole lot of thought. Between everything else he had going on, he hadn’t even - “I don’t even know if DCU has a club for anything like that,” he admitted quietly, blushing more than a little. “I-I mean, if they did, I - I suppose I should check, or something… “
It sounded a bit lame when he said it like that. “It’s horrible, but I’ve… sort of barely done anything at school except class, mostly,” another quiet confession as he let his hair fall into his face, smiling in a way that was both embarrassed and a little strained. Not because of Auguste, obviously, and he couldn’t know about any of that - the whole thing with Ploutonion, the whole thing with Archer, any of it.
“I’ve been a little stressed, I think?” was probably the best way to put it, to try and phrase it without dragging Auguste into any of his mess while still letting him know it was nothing to do with him.
His blush intensified. But his smile was as it should have been, now. “I - I wouldn’t mind that. I mean, I’m not - very practiced, but - I’d like that. If you’d show me, maybe, sometime, how you dance?”
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“You should look it up!” said Auguste, his eyes alight with eagerness now. “You should, it would be - so wonderful to hear you, and you never know, right? You could look it up, and see if there’s anything you can do, and if you can do it, then...then that would be really great.”
He’d gone off a bit, but he caught the soft confession, and Auguste’s expression grew a little quieter. His hands were still resting on Lorne’s arms, and he gave them a little squeeze now, just of reassurance, and maybe it wasn’t a completely reversed situation, but he still wanted to be able to be a source of comfort and support and friendship to him. The uncertainty and shyness was still prevalent, even now, but it didn’t mean that Auguste was not going to try and do his best with what he could.
“If you - “ He started hesitantly, and then continued - “If you wanted someone to...go with you, you know, to find things out, or your first time going, if you figure that out, I could always go with you just to be there, you know? So you wouldn’t have to go alone.”
He was quite sure that Lorne would much rather go with Nadia, or Colin for such an important step, but the offer was made nonetheless. Auguste had to crane his neck a bit to look up at Lorne, but he did want to make sure he knew that he was smiling.
“I’d love to dance for you someday, if you sing for me,” said Auguste, with the very slightest hint of teasing to his voice though most of it was just simple excitement. “I’d need a partner for my dancing, though; I haven’t done too much of anything outside of ballroom.”
Barring the secret dance lessons he was taking, but nobody knew about those.
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The gesture of reassurance was anything but lost on Lorne, and the fact that came as it was, with no questions attached, made him smile, his gratitude shining bright in his vibrant yellow eyes. He didn’t come out and say thank you, but he didn’t really need to; the intent was clear.
Auguste had offered to come with him - and perhaps the younger had assumed that Lorne would prefer someone else, but the moment he uttered it, the smile on his face grew more radiant, hopeful even. “You’d - do that? - are you sure it wouldn’t be too much trouble? I… “ Of course he’d feel better having someone he knew with him. He hated going into new situations blind, honestly, and…
“I tend to uh… drag my feet a little - doing new things alone, “ he admitted, blushing all over again. “I know it’s a little silly, but it’s really - hard for me, you know? I never want to bother anyone though… everyone’s so busy with their own things, you know? I don’t work or anything, just - just college and patrols and - I’m rambling, ” he sighed, biting at his bottom lip, grinning still but sheepishly.
A partner for his dancing.
“Maybe - uhm - you could teach me to be your partner?”
The tentative question slipped out before he could really think about it, and oh god, his cheeks burned.
“I - I mean, I’m so terrible at dancing, or a-anything like that, it might be - might be nice to uhm - to - oh god, I’m sorry, “ he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.
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Truth be told, he was surprised by Lorne’s surprise. Auguste had expected a thanks, but I’ve already got the others, to be the reply, not a bright, radiant smile that reached so far across his face that it made his golden eyes glow a shade lighter. Smiling like that made him look years less stressed, years less anxious; like a layer of uncertainty had been pulled away, softening and gentling his features and his countenance.
“I would do it,” said Auguste, and he couldn’t help but feel a small rush of happiness and Lorne’s obvious gratitude. “Going into things on your own - it’s not easy, right? It’s always better to have someone there with you, and we’re together now, aren’t we?” His hands were still on Lorne’s arms, and he gave them a little squeeze before he let them fall away again, the too large sleeves of his sweater falling over his fingers. “We’re all together now, we look out for each other, and I’ll look out for you, too.”
Even if that was all he could do - even if the only thing he was capable of doing was just going along with Lorne to a meeting or a class or two, he would do it. He would find what it was that he could do, and he would do it, however small and seemingly insignificant it was.
“You said me calling you isn’t a bother,” said Auguste, and his cheeks pinked with pleasure at the thought again, his ears reddening slightly. “So, it’s the same for me too. You aren’t going to bother me.”
Far from it, actually. Auguste had meant to say something about it also not bothering him when Lorne rambled on, but the suggestion of him being his dance partner made him stop, the words dying in his throat. Auguste stared up at him, at the eyes that were now shut tight, at the flustered, embarrassment that seemed to radiate off of Lorne like physical heat, his face flushed, and -
“I’d love that!” Auguste blurted out, his eyes wide, and his hands had tucked themselves into the opposite sleeves, so that they formed sort of a loop in front of him, raised just beneath his chin. “I would love to teach you to dance with me!”
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Together now - yes. Lorne never exactly forgot, but he second-guessed, he wondered, he thought too long and too hard over everything and doubted it all. But he had to keep reminding himself, yes, he was surrounded by people he cared, and no, somehow, he had yet to bother these people that for some reason or another wanted to be close to him.
“I like that, “ he said quietly, toying with Auguste’s hair for a minute more, tentatively, just a slip of fingertips against white silk. “Very much. I - thank you.”
I’d love that! Lorne’s eyes tentatively opened, a careful, delicate little smile that might as well have been made of glass creeping onto his face. “R-really…? You wouldn’t - mind? I really, I’m - I wouldn’t want to - Si vous seriez prêt. Je serais ravi de danser avec vous,” finally, he managed to say it; although his cheeks were still flushed, when he got to be too flustered, it was always just easier to switch back into French, into words that were and weren’t his own. “I’m a terrible dancer. Just terrible.”
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In the same boat as Lorne, Auguste was always second-guessing - less so over thinking, but doubting it all - believing that he was not actually a part of these wonderful, precious people - was something that still made him in awe. He could hardly wrap his mind around the fact that one person wanted him to stick around, let alone three or four - or the entire Saturn team, really. He’d spent most of his life alone, and now here was a literal group of people that wanted to spend time with him, wanted to be around him.
It was an incredibly unfamiliar, strange concept.
Auguste’s eyes held a sense of pleasure as Lorne fiddled with his hair, because he liked the feel of it. The soft, fragile smile was lovely, even if it also brought with it a small sense of sadness that he could be so uncertain (which Auguste knew only too well), and he gave a nod, the French making him smile, a happy laugh escaping him.
”Je suis très disposé, je serais très aime danser avec vous,” said Auguste. “And there are no bad dancers, you’d only be terrible if you never tried.”
His expression was one of painful honesty and excitement, Auguste positively beaming at Lorne.
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Lorne’s smile was much less uncertain then, bright and vibrant again - and Auguste’s energy really was infectious, his laughter catching on and making him laugh along with him, a hand pressed over his face. But it was the kind of laugh reserved for friends, louder than it should have been, making his shoulders shake with delight.
“Then please,” he said, a pleasant flush to his cheeks - and although he knew nothing of dancing, or of Auguste and where he’d come from, where he’d been, none of it, perhaps a little ironically, he commented quietly, “You seem like you’d be a delightful partner. F-for dancing, I mean.” Not to mention he felt like - they understood each other, and somehow that made it easier to ask.
So many things were getting easier now that he was surrounded by people he cared about.
“Oh!” Abruptly, he paled, whirling back to the counter with a squeak. “The ice cream! It’s -”
It was soup.
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He liked it when Lorne smiled like that - because it was not shy and uncertain, it was bright and excited, and it lit up his entire face, taking years of stress from him as a whole. Laughter rang out across the small kitchen, and Auguste felt warmth spread across his chest, reassuring and gentle, because this was not a side of Lorne he was used to seeing - but it was a side he found he liked very much.
“Thank you,” said Auguste, his cheeks pinking - and he felt, for the first time since meeting Nadia’s boyfriend, that he wasn’t uncertain around him, that he wasn’t just there to be with Nadia, in spite of Lorne always having been kind to him. Now, with things between them that were solid and comfortable, he could understand, and he could be.
Auguste’s eyes had widened in surprise; he padded quickly over to where Lorne was, and peered down at the ice cream - which looked, to say the least, rather sad and pathetic.
There was a moment of silence - and then Auguste burst out into laughter.
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