The first date was... met at a coffee shop. Damien, looking like he walked off a movie set, sauntered in with an effortlessly sexy grin, while Victor—wearing his standard hoodie and cargo pants—fiddled nervously with his phone in the corner booth."Hey, bro," Damien greeted, dropping into the seat acrossfrom Victor with that same smooth confidence that seemed to radiate from every inch of him. "You ready for this?"
Victor, whose heart had been racing since Damien had messaged him earlier that day, could barely meet his eyes. "Yeah, I guess," he muttered, his voice almost drowned out by the clink of coffee cups and the hum of background took a moment to survey the scene, looking around the small, dimly lit coffee shop with a mix of amusement and mild disinterest. He didn't belong in places like this, but for Victor, it seemed like the perfect setting to keep his grunge-like aura , Damien couldn't help but smile—Victor looked like a nervous wreck, but it was almost cute in its own shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling out of place in the sleek, stylish coffee shop. He was used to dark, dingy places—places where the world didn't stare at you for being different. And he certainly wasn't used to being in the same space with someone as... perfect as Damien."So," Damien began, leaning forward slightly, his voice low and teasing. "What's on your mind, bro?"Victor stared at him, struggling to remember the words. His internal monologue was a mess of confusion, nerves, and disbelief. He hadn't expected to get this far, to be sitting across from someone like Damien. What was he supposed to say?"I—I don't know," Victor stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't usually... do this kind of thing."Damien's grin widened, as if he found Victor's awkwardness endearing. "No worries, man. I'm not judging. Just wanted to see what you were about. Tell me more about your... uh, 'truth-seeking' stuff. I wanna hear all of it."Victor's eyes lit up at the mention of his favorite subject. "Well, where do I start?" he began, eager to jump into his rants about society's ills and the hidden puppet masters controlling the world. As he spoke, his confidence grew, and for the first time that evening, he felt a sense of purpose in his words. Damien listened—actually listened—without interrupting, nodding occasionally, as though genuinely wasn't long before the conversation turned to darker topics: the government, conspiracy theories, and the frustrations Victor had with society. He poured out his feelings, speaking of injustice, betrayal, and the countless ways the world had wronged , of course, didn't take it all too seriously. He had his own take on things, his own philosophies—mostly based on getting what he wanted and enjoying the chaos of life. But he also recognized something in Victor. Maybe it wasn't love just yet, but there was definitely something raw about the way the other man spoke. The unfiltered anger, the intensity—it was all magnetic."You're a bit of a firecracker, huh?" Damien teased, his tone light but with a hint of admiration. "I think I could get used to this."Victor didn't know what to make of it. Damien seemed genuinely into his rants, not dismissing him like everyone else. And that was... strange. "You think I'm... crazy or something?" Victor asked, shook his head, a smirk never leaving his face. "Nah. You're passionate. I like that. Plus, it's not every day I get to hear someone talk about the world like it's on fire. Makes things a little more interesting, don't you think?"Victor couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at the words. No one had ever called his worldview "interesting" before. Most people either ignored him or mocked him for it. But Damien? Damien was conversation drifted into quieter moments, where they exchanged glances over their half-empty coffee cups. Damien would throw in a light joke now and then, while Victor would give his usual cynical retorts. But there was something about the way they interacted, the way Damien seemed to pull him out of his shell with ease, that made Victor's pulse the evening wore on, Victor found himself enjoying Damien's company more than he expected. It was... weird. The whole experience was weird. But in a good way. He was talking to someone who didn't care about his past, his bitterness, his isolation. Damien wasn't trying to fix him—he just wanted to be there, to understand, or at least pretend night ended with Damien walking Victor back to his apartment, his arm slung casually around the other man's shoulders as if they were old friends, despite the fact that they barely knew each was still processing everything, but one thing was for sure: Damien was a force to be reckoned with. A storm that he wasn't sure he was ready to face, but couldn't seem to stay away from."Next time," Damien said, his grin mischievous, "we'll skip the coffee shop and go somewhere more... exciting. I know a few places."Victor, feeling a strange mixture of thrill and dread, nodded slowly. "Yeah... sure."As Damien walked away, his silhouette disappearing into the night, Victor stood at the door, watching him go.