Chapter Text
The silence is what Lawrence liked the most about their rare spend evenings together.
The stillness itself seems to lay dormant in those shared moments, absent even; only leaving an abyss of nothingness behind.
Like a hole has been carved into the centre of the universe, holding them safe in their break between chaos; but to chaos they alas have to return as the naturalist would tend to say -from oder to chaos we shall all go.
But not for now.
For now they sat by sides together on the couch in Ray’s living room, coffee table cluttered with sheets of various papers, laptops propped open with glaring, artificial lights showing tight laid schedules with a multitude of technicolours, changing from hour to hour in ordered chaos. Ray had explained with a saintly patience the basics to him on how their shared timetable would work and how to navigate it, not only on his laptop but also on his phone; all in preparation for the Holy Father’s first official visit to the US, on which Lawrence will accompany him for the few but packed days. And it would be a deliberate understatement to even say that he looked somewhat forward to it with the rise of conservatism in the States, especially within their Church, that will lead to a head on collision with Innocentius; who never averted a fight in the name of radical progress. And always, as miraculously as it was, came out unharmed.
But now the evening had become late and their voices settled minutes ago, leaving only a faint echo in both their minds of discussed words over and over. Heaving a sigh, Lawrence placed a tentative hand on Ray’s knee, always careful to never cross a line, to be never domineering, to only catch his attention. Bloodshot eyes flickered to him, free from glasses that rested now on the table. Such a peculiar rare sight to Lawrence but one that nevertheless conveyed such trust and comfort in him. “Shall we stop here for today?”
“I wouldn’t mind.” Ray responded, eyelids drooping while leaning back into the cushion. “But there’s still too much to do.”
Humming in his own agreement, Lawrence glanced at the ticking clock hanging on the wall; soon it will be past 11pm and tomorrow will not show them more mercy than today. Caressing Ray’s knee, he gave in into the slight notion of wanting to look out for him. “One more hour then.”
With a quiet purr coming forth, Ray agreed.
Relaxing at the soothing sound, Lawrence asked, “Should I make us some tea? Coffee perhaps?”
“Coffee sounds heavenly.”
Nodding, he stood under the cracking orchestra of his aching knees, producing an amused huff from Ray, and made his way to the kitchen. He held a favour for Ray’s apartment; it was a cozy affair filled with all sorts of familiar things, family photos older and recent, drawings from his nieces and nephews, books strewn across every flat surface. It was a lived-in difference to his own pitiful apartment, that stood cold and indifferent. But - if Lawrence were honest with himself - his fondness for Ray’s apartment laid with the omega’s warm scent, spreading thinly all across the rooms with it’s intoxicating quality; strengthening in oft occupied rooms like the kitchen or his bedroom, that always remained closed off for the sake of decency. But not now, Lawrence noticed, seeing the door propped open fully right across from the kitchen. He should close it; spare them any unnecessary embarrassment with his own possible reactions to an unmarked omega’s nesting scent. Hesitant to breech into Ray’s privacy, he stepped half a step into the bedroom to reach the door handle; but instincts still commanded him. Before he could control himself, Lawrence had his upper lip curled up, taking in the intensified smell and pheromones that almost overwhelmed him in their density, and felt them in his mouth, giving him more information about Ray than what was appropriate. The scent was heavy with the warm, comforting smell that was unique to Ray but also conveyed a strong stress hormone, sitting heavy on the top of his mouth. A low in the reproductive cycle; his next heat distant but still mixed with the faint remained sweet smell of slick from the last one. Salivating, Lawrence laid a hand in front of his mouth and nose cutting off the smell. His eyes flickered through the room, heat rising high to his cheeks and abdomen painfully constricting. But while various emotions and instincts churned through him worry settled strongly in him. Not only with the thick smell of stress laying dormant in the bedroom but as he could see -or exactly not see- there was no nest. Not on the plain bed or in a nook of the room. Not even a hint of something that could give Ray comfort and security.
Still, it was not his to investigate, to ask Ray why he hadn’t one as it was never a good sign for an omega not to have a nest. It wasn’t his to build him one.
Growling low, Lawrence hastily closed the door as quietly as possible and fled to the kitchen across, busying himself with coffee making. Trying to will his thoughts away. To not think further of it. But he fretted nonetheless.
Taking the two hot mugs, both painted by children’s hands one with endearing flowers and hearts, the other with skewed colourful writing of “Uncle Ray”, and burned his palms from the heat seeping through the porcelain. Making his way back to the living room, Lawrence suppressed the urge to glance at the bedroom door and linger there.
Placing the mugs on an uncluttered spot, Lawrence, who had also avoided looking at Ray when entering, turned to him now. Just to see him fast asleep, head laid back exposing his long throat, eyes closed but the crease between them still remained; not abandoning him of his ever present stressed look, even if his still soft purring persisted showing that after all he was relaxed while not rested.
Hesitant in waking him, Lawrence shuffled around the coffee table and sat down beside Ray, quietly taking up the work again that was by while not finished but he could bare it alone in benefit for Ray, who should take rest far more seriously.
More than an hour passed where Lawrence finished off both of the coffees and Ray’s calming purr ceased giving into deeper sleep, before he was satisfied with the amount of work done. Giving order to the spread paper chaos, he carefully piled those up on the corner of the table that were necessary for Ray. Faltering, Lawrence glanced at Ray’s sleeping form. Taking up one of the bright neon sticky notes, he wrote with careful hand: When you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet. Proverbs 3:24
Sticking it onto Ray’s closed laptop, Lawrence placed the abandoned glasses next to it, so it would be the very first thing he sees after waking and stood; hesitant all over again, trying to decide what the most decent approach would be. He couldn’t lead him to his bedroom; while he was a trusted friend, he was no mate to him but he also didn’t want to wake Ray. Resolute, Lawrence guided him to lay down on the couch, receiving a confused hum under bleary eyes. “Sleep.” Lawrence murmured under his breath, hand coming to rest on Ray’s cheek. “I’m only going to remove your scent patches.” Sighing, he relaxed again but not without exposing his throat and neck to him, granting him easier access to the patches on both sides. Dry-mouthed at the obedient display, Lawrence moved to pick at the see-through patches sticking thinly to the sensitive skin that prevent omega’s as alpha’s scents to spread. He himself was wearing them too, on daily basis. Smoothing the red irritated skin from the glue with his palm, Lawrence shallowed his breath; trying to avoid to breathe in too much from the enthralling scent.
Balling up the patches in his hand, he picked up the two mugs, going to the kitchen again where he placed those in the sink and threw the patches away; before he had the possible embarrassing urge to give in and smell them.
Glancing at the red light over the oven that showed him that it was almost one after midnight, Lawrence hurried along. Putting back his laptop and the papers into his leather satchel, he turned off the dimmed light in the living room and with another glance at Ray, regretting in leaving him behind alone not even a quilt in his reach to tuck him in properly away from the cold, and stepped up to the door, throwing over his coat and closed the door quietly behind him.