Laurent knew he shouldn't stare. But he was standing there – Gabe – looking part lost and part petulant; out of place and not happy about it.

He knew there was a lot to Gabe's story. More than had been revealed to him by Frankie and Gray, and certainly more than the boy had been willing to say himself. Laurent would be the last person to call himself stupid and, as such, he knew this was one of those occasions for patience.

That was why, when Loki took a shaken Kaiya home after the conflict, and Frankie took John away, hopefully to fire his ass or whatever was the done thing in this club, Laurent reluctantly went back to the VIP area alone.

And that's where he was, trying not to stare too obviously at Gabe as Owen and Gray approached to speak to him, Owen seeming to soothe Gabe with soft touches that sent a bolt of jealousy through Laurent. Jealousy and something even more primal than that. It had been too long, really – his needs weren't being met. Well, some had been – though he suspected that particular ship was in the process of sailing next door – but not the most important ones. He looked at his knees, needing to hide the sudden amusement that rocked through him at the mere thought of ever being able or allowed to hurt Loki in bed.

Gabe was a contradiction, Loki knew that much. His snark and fire were equal to Ellis', though not expressed as rudely, but then he often flinched in on himself and gazed unseeingly into the middle distance, like he was seeing an uncomfortable movie play in his head. Laurent liked the former side, and had had several pleasurable sessions thinking of play that involved dropping him willingly out of that confronting mindset using pain, but the latter side would make that impossible, he knew, outside of fantasy. At least, at the moment.

He glanced around the room, which had begun to rapidly fill. It was a nice distraction, which was why he jumped minutely when he realized Gray was looming – having crossed the lounge without Laurent even being aware; not only that, but also flanked by Owen and Gabe.

"Would you mind if we joined you?" Gray asked in his deep, chocolatey voice.

"Of course not," was the obvious response, and if he almost coughed from trying to make his voice deeper, then no-one else had to know, and he'd ignore the smirk on Gray's face.

When they sat, Laurent couldn't help but be aware that Gabe was fronting. He smiled warmly every time Owen and Gray looked at him, and grinned happily when Ellis and the one with ethereally light eyes came over to chat, like he was having the best time. But whenever he thought nobody had their eyes on him, he shrank back into his seat, his shoulders rolling inward.

Distracted by what he hoped was a subtle focus on Gabe, it took him a moment to realize Gray and Owen were having a whispered argument.

"I don't think it's a good idea, Bunny."

"I think you're scared, Sir. You have to trust he knows what to do – it was the point in you saying he should come here. Let him start making decisions for himself."

Gabe was pretending he couldn't hear, too, but looked up when Gray leaned towards him, across Owen.

"Gabe, there's a show next door, would you like to watch it?"

It was apparent from his tone that he didn't think it was a good idea, and Laurent watched Owen roll his eyes hard, and Gray raise his eyebrows in a clear judgement that had Owen biting his lip. Laurent would love the chance to be a fly on that wall when the punishment was handed out.

"What kind of show?"

"Chase is doing some wax play. We thought you might like it."

Gabe thought for a moment, glancing towards the door where the show was, his face a conflict of eager and concerned.

"Actually, I think, tonight, it's been quite a lot. I don't think I will, this time."

"That's fair."

"But, you and Owen should go. If, if maybe Laurent would stay?"

Laurent didn't hear an ounce of sensuality in the request, but it stole his breath anyway. That Gabe, for all the sparks back and forth between them, trusted him enough in this situation.

"I would be happy to." He turned to Gray. "I can assure you, no harm will come to him here."

Gray looked doubtful for a moment, but he glanced to Gabe, who nodded, and Owen, who gave a dimple-wide smile, which was unexpected, but Laurent was starting to think Owen was still waters running deep and he saw more than he ever revealed.

It took a few moments, with assurances from both sides that everything would be fine, and they were only in the room next door, after all, and then they were gone, leaving Laurent alone with Gabe – and for the first time, with the intention that it would remain that way.

Perhaps it was the fact that all previous encounters either had an audience or were brief moments of passing in the corridors of Frankie's house, but Laurent found himself tongue-tied. Gabe didn't seem to care, still glancing around the room, but there was something subtly more relaxed in his posture as he leaned back in his chair, something that made Laurent feeling strangely pleased with himself, for all that he'd done literally nothing.

It was several minutes of heavy, thumping heartbeats before he heard the soft whisper of Gabe's voice.

"Thank you."

"Nothing to thank," he lowered his own voice almost to match, not wanting to spook him. "It's my pleasure."

"Really, though, I appreciate you putting yourself out. You, ah, you don't expect me to kneel?'

Laurent tilted his head, shook it in the negative, trying to hide the sharp intake of breath. Not for the kneeling – he'd never been into that side of it – but for the fact that Gabe was viewing him as a Dom. It may be a foolish point, because he was a Dom, regardless of his tentative position as only a guest so far here, but difficult, spiky, Gabe viewing him as such gave him a blast of pleasure that he wasn't expecting.

When one of the shirtless subs who worked as waitstaff came by, Laurent ordered a bourbon and asked Gabe if he wanted one.

"I shouldn't, Sir, Master François has rules about drinking."

"He told me that was only for people scening. Are you scening tonight?" He held his breath, though he didn't think he was here as a placeholder until some Dom Gabe had a standing appointment with arrived, and he breathed out when Gabe shook his head.

"No, not tonight. Thank you, Sir, I'll have the same as you."

When the waiter returned, Gabe accepted the tumbler of whiskey from Laurent with a tiny smile that still managed to make his face glow. Laurent hadn't realized until that moment just how rare a smile must be from him. A real smile, anyway. Laurent himself had received a few that were closer to grimaces or smirks, but this one was different, and made Laurent's heart stutter at its beauty.

"You must wonder why I need a babysitter?" Gabe asked, gazing down at his glass as he lightly tipped it, his eyes following the movement of the liquid intently.

"It's crossed my mind to be intrigued," Laurent admitted reluctantly. He didn't know why Gabe had chosen now to reveal himself, but he only hoped it wouldn't detonate and demolish this fledgling emotion Laurent could feel between them.

"My last Dom," Gabe began, low enough that Laurent had to lean in to hear, "he, he wasn't that nice to me. Um, he was abusive. Pretty bad. He had some issues."

Laurent wrinkled his nose at the phrasing. As a doctor for Medecins San Frontieres, Laurent had spent that last few years dealing with some of the most pitiful and wasteful illness and injuries. He was no stranger to domestic violence, and no stranger to people making allowances for their abusers, but it never failed to break his heart, and the admission from Gabe was up there, crushing him already.

"Might he come here?" he asked, thinking of John, and of it being a good explanation for Gabe's jumpiness, though Gabe actually chuckled, and took a small sip of his drink, wincing.

"No, he would never have been allowed in here. He's dead anyway."

Laurent's mouth dropped open, but Gabe wasn't watching him, still staring at the amber liquid in his glass.

"It took a while to find his body. And they aren't sure if it was an accident."

"Oh."

"I should probably be more torn up. I was with him for a while. I lost a lot of my memories, but I do remember that I thought I loved him."

"Lost memories?"

"Yeah. It was a side effect when he tried to kill me."

"Jesus," Laurent whispered.

Gabe laughed, slightly wickedly. "Sorry, I guess I dropped that on you."

"A little."

"Still interested?"

Laurent stared. He liked Gabe's irreverence, but the topic was too dark for it to feel natural.

"I'm guessing there's a lot more to it?"

"There is. I'm talking to people about it, but I'm aching to get outside of my own head, you know? I feel like I've talked forever. Gray's been incredible – really testing my boundaries for triggers, but not on the heavy stuff. He wants me to wait."

It suddenly made more sense. Laurent hadn't told him, but maybe he recognized a sadist, or was just hopeful. He wanted to be brought down. Laurent wasn't stupid though. The boy wasn't getting what he wanted tonight.

They sat in fairly companiable silence for a moment, sipping their drinks. Laurent was vaguely aware of a semi-circle of seats behind them, outside the VIP area, and was conscious of someone sitting, instructing their sub to kneel by their side. He glanced at Gabe, but he didn't react.

Then they both heard the Dom coo at his sub and his words: "Such a good whore for me, aren't you darling?"

Gabe froze, stiff and trembling. His eyes flicked to Laurent's face, swimming with unshed tears, arrived from nowhere.

"Gabe?"

He whimpered, his bottom lip quivering and his hands shaking. Laurent gestured the waiter over and told him to get Gray. As the young man moved off swiftly, Laurent held one arm out, in a silent, pressure-free offer, and Gabe took it, launching across the space between them and sliding to his side, leaving Laurent wondering just how he could have messed up so badly. 

A/N: I think Laurent should take Gabe home, don't you?