Don't Tell My Brother

Chapter 17 - Academic Integrity

The school day passed too quickly for Lucas' liking. Time was a bitch. Whenever he was waiting for something he wanted, it slowed to a crawl, but as soon as he was dreading something it seemed to fly by. He blinked, and half an algebra lesson was gone. Lunch passed in a flash, with Mona discussing some internal problems her Mathletes team had had and Alex shooting his suspicious looks every time he zoned out, and before he could fully register it the final bell had rung. School was over, and he had to go to work. He had to go see Damien.

Which would be fine, Lucas reasoned as he walked towards the bakery. Damien wasn't a mind reader. He'd never find out any of the thoughts Lucas had about him, bad or...not so bad. But he still couldn't shake the feeling that some way, somehow, Damien would just know. That he'd look at Lucas and read it on his face as clearly as if he'd scrawled 'I had a dream where we made out' on his forehead.

That was ridiculous. And besides, Lucas thought as he crossed the street, Damien wouldn't even be thinking about him like that, not when he had Mallory Montgomery all over him like some tanned, designer-perfumed fungus. Lucas would be what he always was: invisible. Something he'd thought he'd gotten used to by now, or even enjoyed.

By the time he reached the bakery, the shiny black motorcycle was already parked out the front. Lucas had the sudden, powerful urge to turn and run. He'd gotten here early, and wasn't expecting to see Damien for another twenty minutes at least. He'd thought he'd had more time. Knowing he was being pathetic, making a big deal out of nothing, just a dream, meaningless– he pushed open the door, and made his way to the back. Act natural.

Damien was standing at the bench where they rolled the dough, a pen between his lips and a notebook and laptop open on the marble benchtop. He looked up when Lucas entered, and grinned.

"Hey, Lucas. Thank god you're here."

"Hey!" Lucas said, realising too late that he'd said it far too loudly. "Uh, what's up? What's going on?" In an effort to not look at Damien's face, which was far too reminiscent of the dream, he kept his eyes pointedly fixed on a spot just above his shoulder. Very natural.

Or not, judging by the perplexed, bemused look Damien was giving him. "Come here. I need your help."

He reached out, caught Lucas' wrist and actually pulled him forwards, and for one terrifying moment Lucas thought he'd try and kiss him. He froze, stumbled, and Damien dropped his wrist.

"Are you alright? You're being weird." Damien paused, dark eyes on Lucas. "Weirder than normal. Which is really saying something."

Lucas relaxed with a sigh. This was normal. Damien wasn't about to pull him into some dark corner for a kiss, or press him against the nearest wall. Things were going to be the same as they always were. One stupid, crazy dream, and suddenly Lucas thought Damien would ever really try anything with him? That was stupid. Even worse, Lucas didn't know if he'd wanted him to. Of course, it'd be a bad, terrible idea, and logically he should never get tangled up with someone who was followed by drama. But Damien could make it difficult to think logically.

"What did you want help with?" Lucas asked, interrupting his own train of thought before it turned onto a dangerous track.

Immediately, Damien was smiling again. Lucas noticed with some trepidation that it was the kind of smile he used on pretty girls at the bakery, or Lisa when he wanted to leave early. It was warm and gorgeous and meant that Damien wanted something.

"Lucas." He began. "Darling Lucas. Have I ever told you how beautiful–"

"Get to the point."

Damien rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to be nice."

Lucas snorted derisively. "No you're not. You're being an idiot because you want something, and I bet I'm not going to like what it is. Right?"

"Can't a guy tell his fellow baker how much he appreciates–"

"Just tell me what you want."

Annoyed at having his attempts at flattery thwarted, Damien instead gave Lucas a pleading look. "So there's this US History essay I have to write, and it's due tomorrow, and I sort of haven't written it."

"You sort of haven't written it?"

"Haven't written it at all, actually."

Lucas frowned. "And now you want me to write it for you. Is that it?" He shouldn't have been surprised.

"Yeah, pretty much." Damien didn't even have the decency to look guilty.

"Not happening." Lucas said immediately, turned away to get an apron off the hook.

"What?" Damien sounded surprised, and when Lucas turned back to face him he was frowning, mouth open slightly. "Why?"

"Why won't I do your homework for you?" Lucas could've laughed. "I'm not your slave, Damien. I'm not just going to do whatever you say because you made a half-assed attempt at being nice. I've got my own work to do. Besides, it's a breach of academic integrity, and you won't learn anything if someone else writes it."

Damien groaned dramatically, and turned back to the laptop. "Of course you'd say some shit like 'academic integrity'." He rubbed his eyes, staring down at the open document.

Lucas was all too familiar with this kind of response. As Alex had pointed out to him over the years, some things were best not to say, because they made you sound 'like a robot'. The problem was, he never knew what these things were until it was too late.

"Look, are you sure you can't just write it for me? Not even a little bit?" Damien made his eyes wide, pleading, reminiscent of the puppies yesterday.

Lucas sighed. "I'm sure. Why would I write an entire essay just so you could get the grade?"

"Because you're really, really nice?" Damien offered. "Or because I'm really hot and you'd do anything for me?"

"But I'm not nice. I'm weird and uptight, remember?" Damien had told him often enough.

Damien winced, and at least had the decency to look a little abashed, but not for long. "First of all, you didn't correct me when I said I was really hot, so that means you agree." He grinned, and kept talking before Lucas could object. "Second of all, you are pretty weird and uptight, but–"

"Wow, you really are being nice. I have no idea why I wouldn't help you, you're so–"

"Let me finish. As I was saying, you're all that shit, but you're also kind of smart. Not even kind of." Damien paused to let that sink in, as if he'd said something very profound.

Lucas raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. He was waiting for the punchline, but nothing came. Damien hadn't even sounded sarcastic. "Right." He said, still sceptical.

"Also if you don't help I'll probably fail, and you don't want that on your conscience."

"I think I could live with it."

"Really? Do you really want to take the risk? My future is in your hands, Lucas." Damien rested his elbows on the counter and buried his head in his hands, peering through his fingers at the blank screen.

Lucas thought he seemed tired. Late nights with Mallory, a snide little voice in the back of his mind whispered. Lucas tried to ignore it, and all accompanying images of Mallory and Damien together, the kind his mind so readily supplied. Pushing these unpleasant thoughts to the side, Lucas sighed.

"Fine. I'm not going to write it for you," he said, just as Damien started to look hopeful, "but I'll see if I can help."

"You're the best." Damien said, and grinned at Lucas, wide enough that he could clearly see the perfect little dimple on his left cheek. Lucas glanced away, feeling oddly pleased with himself.

"After our shift, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."