You And Me - A Collection of Les Twins One Shots

Weakness

"Did you do it or not, Laurent?" their mom demands.

Larry flinches from where he's hiding in their room, worrying his bottom lip. He listens to the muffled sounds of his brother trying to come up with an excuse, covering for him. But then there's a slap, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and Larry flinches back from it, feeling the sting even from afar. He's out of the room so fast, tripping over his own feet in his haste to get to his brother, the brand new pair of sneakers he'd stolen laying forgotten under their bunk bed.

"It wasn't him," Larry blurts out as soon as he's through the doorway. "I stole them, I'm sorry, maman," he rushes out, quickly stepping between her and Laurent who is cradling his stinging cheek with tears in his eyes. "Please."

He doesn't know what he's asking for, maybe another slap to his own cheek to make it even. But she doesn't hit him or look at him at all, just shakes her head in disapproval. 

"Go to your room, Larry."

Larry grabs her arm, fingers digging into her skin. "It wasn't him. I swear... I did it. I'm sorry. I'm gonna return them."

Their mother doesn't even send him a glance. "This is between your brother and me."

Her voice is lethal and they both know not to argue with her when she gets like this.

Larry hesitates. She sends him a look then and it makes him shrivel. He ducks his head and reluctantly shuffles back to their room, tears silently dripping down his face as he gets crushed by guilt.

It takes him twelve years to find out that she knew all along who really stole the shoes.

He never truly forgives her for that.

ooo

They are twenty-four and working a job in L.A. and they are barely capable of understanding the instructions given to them because everything is a jumbled mess of lighting and fixtures and make-up.

Larry's not really bothered by the way the manager asks them to press their bare chests up against each other. He knows the fascination that comes with being a genetic carbon copy of someone else. He gets that some people are strangely drawn to it. Romanticize it, even. But what he does not tolerate is the way the guy looks them both up and down sleezily whenever he thinks they don't notice.

The first time Laurent's back is turned, the guy walks up to him and splays a palm against his lower back, fingers cold against his bare skin and slowly moving south.

It takes a moment for Larry to realize that the guy's not just being friendly. That he's actually feeling him up, right here, in the middle oft he goddamn set with his entire crew and other models standing around, the guy's fingers are wandering.

Larry shoves him hard. 

"The fuck are you doing?"

His heart is racing, his eyes reflexively flying around to look for his brother, but Laurent is still lost in another part of this big-ass studio, looking for a bathroom and whoever else is still around busies themselves looking the other way. Almost as if they're used to it.

"You're talented..." the guy says with a sly grin, shrugging a little. "I'm sure with a little bit of effort on your side, you two could really go places."

Larry holds the guy's eyes and his voice drops low. "Touch me again and I'll break something."

He's about to find Laurent and get the hell out of there, when the guy's fingers wrap around his wrist and yank him close. "Don't be stupid. Do you have any idea of the kind of connections I have around here? All it takes for me is one call and I could get you two sorted."