Chapter Text
Laurent had grown up on the ice. The scent of it, the sound of blades cutting through slush, is ingrained in every memory of his childhood. He remembers holding his mother’s hands as she teaches him to stand on thin blades, remembers watching from the sidelines with Auguste as she and Papa perform their old routines for his amusement. He knew from a young age that he would never be able to leave it, not for long; the ice was in his veins.
His brother, Auguste, was much the same, at the top of the podium nearly every time he competed, and Laurent was eager to follow in his footsteps. An ice skating dynasty, the pundits say. Vere’s championship family. Not that Laurent, at the tender age of six, pays attention to that. He just knows that he loves skating, and he loves watching his brother skate more than anything.
That is, until one of the qualifiers for the Junior Grand Prix, where a new boy is competing. Laurent sees him in the locker room while he waits for Auguste to get ready, his bored eyes roaming around the room until they land on him. He’s very pretty, Laurent decides, his skin dark and his head a riot of curls. He’s talking to someone as he places his bag in a locker, his lips wide in a smile.
“Damianos Theomedesoulos from Akielos,” Auguste whispers, making Laurent jump.
“What?”
Auguste tilts his head to the new boy. “Maman was talking about him the other night, apparently he’s really good.”
“Not as good as you,” Laurent says. “You’re the best skater in the whole world!”
Ruffling Laurent’s hair with a laugh, he shakes his head. “You only say that because you’re my brother.”
“It’s true! Papa said so!”
“Well, if Papa said so,” Auguste says in that tone that Laurent knows means he’s teasing him. He pouts, but before he can reply, Maman is coming over and telling Auguste to sit so she can lace his skates. “I can do it-”
“I know, cheri, but let me,” Maman insists. “You know I like to make sure it’s tight enough.”
“Maman, is Auguste about to skate?” Laurent asks.
“Yes, mon petit chou, Papa is already waiting at the rink. But remember, it’s just the warm up, he’s not supposed to skate his program until a little later. There, how does that feel?” she asks Auguste, tapping the side of his boot.
“Perfect, as always, thank you, Maman,” Auguste says, leaning in to kiss her cheek before he stands. “Come on, Laurent, let’s go.” He holds out his arms and Laurent eagerly stands on the bench, arms up as he waits for his brother to pick him up.
“Auguste, you know I hate when you carry him while on skates,” Maman tsks, trying to reach for Laurent, but Auguste blocks her from grabbing him.
“I promise, I’ll be okay, don’t worry so much.”
She sighs but gestures for them to lead the way. “You spoil him, you know. And it’s my job as a mother to worry too much.”
Auguste carries him until they reach the edge of the rink where Papa is waiting. He passes Laurent to Maman and focuses on Uncle, who has been his coach since Laurent can remember, his face serious as he prepares for his group's warmup. With Auguste’s attention off of him, Laurent once again is bored, his gaze going over the stands, packed with people.
“Maman, when I skate, will everyone come to see me, like they do for Auguste?”
She laughs, presses a kiss to his cheek, and he hears cameras snapping away behind them. “Of course they will, darling. Everyone will come to see my two beautiful boys dancing across the ice, battling for number one.”
“Auguste is always number one,” he says with a pout. “And I don’t want to battle him.”
“We’ll see what you think when you’re skating in the same competitions.”
“Maman-“ his words are drowned out by the loudspeaker announcing Auguste's group's turn to start warming up, and his focus shifts to his brother. He’s using Papa to balance as he unclips his blue blade covers, handing them to Uncle, before he gets into the rink. He glides around and Laurent watches, enthralled.
One of the first memories Laurent can recall is watching Auguste on the ice. He remembers how he was unable to stop watching, how Auguste moved, and how much Laurent wanted to be able to move like him. He doesn’t remember the first time he put on his own boots, or rather, that Maman put on his boots for him, but he remembers trying to hurry to join Auguste on the ice, desperate to see his brother move up close.
Now, he waits patiently, knowing he can’t join Auguste, but excited as always to see him skate. Then the boy from before skates past and for the first time, Laurent’s eyes are dragged away from his brother.
He thinks the way Damianos moves is pretty too. Not as pretty as Auguste, his edges not quite as sharp, but there’s something about him that keeps Laurent from watching Auguste instead. The boy hasn’t ever said a word to him, or even glanced his way, focused on his own skating, but Laurent watches anyway.
“Damen!” a booming voice yells from near them, making Laurent jump. He looks around Papa and Uncle to see a large man standing there, his brow frowning as he glares at the rink. Damianos turns easily on his blades and skates closer. He flashes a smile to Laurent when he sees him looking and Laurent hurries to bury his face in Maman’s coat.
“Yes, bampás?” the boy, who must also go by Damen, the way Auguste sometimes calls him Ren, asks. He tries to hear what they’re saying, but the man’s big voice is too quiet now, so he focuses his attention back to his brother, who’s gliding nearby.
He’s just starting to get bored when the loudspeaker comes back on, telling all but the first competing skater to come off of the ice, and finally the good part is about to begin. Laurent loves sitting with Maman and watching the skaters; she always tells him quietly what they’ve done wrong and how they could improve, but Laurent’s favorite part is seeing the costumes. They’re usually very sparkly, sometimes they’re colorful, and once he even saw someone with feathers.
The first skater up is Auguste, who makes his way to his starting position and takes his beginning stance, and Laurent leans forward in excitement as the familiar music of his short program begins. Laurent watches with fascination, even though he’s seen Auguste practicing this very routine for months now, but each time he does, he adds a little something new, and Laurent has learned to watch for it. His brother is a whirl of red and orange and yellow, his golden hair streaming behind him; it’s not quite long enough to tie back, but enough that it stands out as he skates past where they’re sitting.
As the music comes to a sweeping ending, Laurent cheers loudly, waving his arms at his brother and getting a small smile in return before Auguste skates to the exit, where Uncle is waiting to give him the skate guards and lead him to the kiss and cry. Papa is also allowed to go, but Maman and Laurent stay behind, even though Laurent doesn’t understand why. Auguste tried to explain it once a couple of years ago, but it didn’t make any sense to little Laurent. Maybe he’ll ask him again now that he’s older, but for now, he listens as Auguste’s scores are announced.
“Auguste de Vere is now in first place.”
Laurent cheers, though he knows that Auguste is only in first place because he was the first one to go and there’s a chance that will change once the others do their short programs. Maman claps with him and Laurent beams when Auguste glances their way, waving wildly at his brother as he leaves the Kiss and Cry.
The next couple of skaters do their programs, which Laurent watches with eager eyes, but he can tell they’re not quite as good as his brother. Then the new boy gets on the ice and Laurent finds himself fascinated.
He’s still not as good as Auguste, but Laurent can tell that he’s better than some of the others, even if he’s still new to skating. His program is simple, but he pours his whole heart into it, and twirls to a stop at the end, his hands raised high as the music comes to an abrupt end. Maman says he’ll get a good performance score, even though he’s not that advanced technically, and sure enough, he manages to land in fourth place by the end of the day. Laurent wants to cheer for him, but he’s not sure if he should, or if he’s only supposed to cheer for his brother.
After everyone is done, Maman gathers their things and leads Laurent down to where Auguste, Papa, and Uncle are all waiting at the rink side, talking quietly. As soon as he’s close enough, he darts away from his mother, eager to give his brother a hug, and almost immediately runs into someone, falling down with a yelp while the person gives a soft oof above him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” the person says, and Laurent looks up to see Damianos standing there, hand out to help Laurent stand. Laurent stares at it for a moment.
“Maman says I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” Laurent says, instead of taking the hand.
The boy laughs, kneeling down so that he’s face to face with Laurent, still on the ground. “And she’s very right. My name is Damen.”
“I know, I saw you skate, you’re very pretty.” The words come out without thinking and Laurent frowns with the boy, Damen, laughs.
“Thank you.”
“I’m sorry,” Maman says, slightly breathless as she appears next to them, “he just took off.” She pulls Laurent to standing and dusts off his bottom.
Damen straightens and offers his hand to her instead. “That’s okay, no harm done. My name is Damen.”
Maman shakes his hand, introducing herself, but Laurent cuts her off. “My name is Laurent.”
“Hello, Laurent. Did you have fun watching us skate?”
“Yes, my brother Auguste is the best skater in the whole world! You’re good, too, but Maman says you don’t have enough jumps to go far yet.”
Laurent watches his mother’s face turn red, but Damen just laughs again, nodding. “Laurent, hush.”
“No, you’re right, I haven’t been skating for very long and jumps aren’t my strong point, my coach says the same thing.” He looks down at Laurent again. “But did you like my program?”
He nods. “It was very pretty, I like your swirls.”
“Thank you. I like your coat.”
“Thank you, I wanted one just like Auguste has but Papa couldn’t find one the same color.” He looks down at his dark blue coat and thinks longingly of the lighter blue one that Auguste has.
“Damen, you’re supposed to be getting ready to leave- Oh, my apologies,” a big man says, coming up next to Damen. Laurent feels like he’s looking up forever to see his face, his mouth opened wide. When he looks at Laurent, he’s quick to hide behind his mother, once again hiding his face in her coat.
“Papa, this is Laurent, he was just telling me he likes my swirls.”
The big man smiles down at Laurent, his face kind, but he’s so big that it makes Laurent nervous. “Hello, Laurent.”
“Hello,” he manages to reply, watching as the man kneels to his level, just like Damen did.
“Do you like watching skaters?”
He nods, “Auguste is my brother.”
“Oh, you must be Mrs. de Vere,” the man says, glancing at Maman. “My name is Theo, I’m Damen’s father.”
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Maman replies.
“Are you going to cheer for Damen, too?” Mr. Theo asks Laurent. “I know he would appreciate it.”
“Bampás,” Damen says, the same way Auguste says Papa sometimes.
Laurent looks at him and nods. “I will, I promise,” he says solemnly.
“Thank you,” Damen says again, tugging on his papa’s sleeve. “We’ll let you go now.”
“It was lovely to meet you, hopefully we’ll see you again.” Maman shakes Mr. Theo’s hand, then Damen’s before leading Laurent over to where their family waits. Laurent glances back one more time to see Damen is still smiling at him.
***
Laurent does see Damen many times over the following years, and Damen always smiles at him and sometimes he gives Laurent a piece of candy or a cool sticker. Laurent cheers for him when he skates, though not as loud as he does for Auguste, and sometimes they all go out to dinner after the skating is done. Mr. Theo isn’t nearly as scary, once Laurent gets to know him, and he sometimes sneaks a piece of candy to Laurent too, winking like it’s a big secret.
“How’s Damen’s number one fan?” he always asks, which makes Damen’s face turn red, but everyone else always laughs. Laurent doesn’t know why, but that’s okay too.
Everything changes, though, on Auguste’s last skate in Juniors.