Closed Hiding From Everything but You

Lars van Houten

🌻 Dutch | Shy | Painter | 2054 Grad 🌻
 
Messages
908
OOC First Name
Daphne
Blood Status
Mixed Blood
Relationship Status
Married
Sexual Orientation
Gay (Blake)
Wand
Almond Wand 14 1/8" Essence of Phoenix Tail Feather
Age
2/2036 (25)
Lars felt exhausted, absolutely exhausted. He wanted to go hide underneath his blankets in bed, but didn't actually want to face anyone in Ravenclaw tower. He felt responsible for their loss, after Minnie had been taken off the field he should have inspired everyone. Instead, he just watched as two more bludgers hit poor Lily, before his own sister was taking out as well. Then Sierra had won the game. It had gone as badly as it possibly could have, and Lars was upset. All he had wanted from the moment the game was done was to hide away like this, but he hadn't immediately been able to. He'd had to make sure Lily was alright, had to make sure Minnie was alright and aware of their loss. Had to make sure Emma was alright and that Iris was also not too upset about it all. He had reassured both his sisters, patted a lot of shoulders and backs and tried to pretend the loss didn't get to him, especially with Emma all excited about winning despite the bruises from the bludgers. He hadn't wanted to dampen her happiness, but it had hurt how little she had seemed to care that his team had lost. But Emma had never been the most understanding person. Besides, it was his job as her big brother to be happy for her.

And he would be, soon. He hoped. For now, he just wanted to be away from everyone. Away from pitying or accusing looks of his fellow Ravenclaws and of the happy smiles of the Gryffindors. This just seemed to confirm to him that he hadn't earned his position as captain, and he would have thought of turning in his badge if that hadn't meant leaving Minnie with all the pressure on her own. Minnie, who was already doing so much. Lars had hidden away in the abandoned classroom he'd met with Blake in a few times, as if hopeful that those memories would cheer him up. But they hadn't. He was sitting on the floor, beneath one of the old desks. He didn't quite fit, his legs sticking out quite a bit, but it felt strangely comforting. Even with the obscene drawing carved into the underside of the desk, right in his line of sight. It felt like he was at least partly hidden, for a bit.
 
To say Blake had been upset by the end of the Quidditch match would be an understatement. The relief that he didn't have to worry about playing against Lars this year was washed away immediately by Lars' reaction to the loss. Even at such a great distance, it was clear the Ravenclaw was devastated. Blake didn't know what he could do, but he knew he had to do something. It had taken a while to slip away from the stands unnoticed, and he knew he wasn't likely to find Lars right away. He had teammates to console, responsibilities as captain. After a while, though, Blake knew where he needed to go, without even thinking about it.

The stale, dusty air of their secret classroom reminded Blake at once of much happier memories, but the hunched figure tucked under one of the tables brushed all that aside in an instant. He closed the door behind himself and crossed the room, crouching down next to the desk. "Hey." Blake said gently, sidling into the tight space next to Lars, shoulder and thigh pressed close against the Ravenclaw's as he sat beside him. Blake was still trying to find the words when he looked up, snorting with laughter at the sight of the table's underside. "Art therapy?" he couldn't help asking with a small chuckle.
 
Lars tensed up when the door to the classroom opened, but he relaxed when he recognized the shoes that walked in. He should have known Blake would find him here, though he was strangely touched that he had as well. So far, they had just met up here to kiss. Of course, it could be that Blake expected kissing now too, and if he did he would have to be disappointed. But as Blake went to sit next to him, Lars actually felt a little comforted by his presence. He sighed softly and looked at him with a soft smile. A smile that faded at Blake's joke. He glanced at the drawing, then looked away again, crossing his arms over his knees and pulling them against his chest. "Shut up." He muttered. "If you just want to joke around, you should go. If you just want to make out you should also go. " He added, sounding more frustrated than he had imagined. He frowned, still looking away. He knew it wasn't fair to take his anger out on Blake, but he was frustrated and Blake was here. And he wasn't sure what he could expect from the other boy, especially when he knew how much Blake valued winning and hated losers. He must think Lars pathetic right now, and he'd be right.
 
Blake's smile faded immediately at Lars' reaction to his joke, regret hitting him like a fist to the gut. Why had he thought this was a good time to make jokes?! He shook his head quickly, heart sinking further as Lars spoke. Was that really all he thought Blake wanted? "No, hey, I'm sorry, that was stupid." Blake said quickly, nerves creeping into his voice. "I just... wanted to check on you." He said slowly, studying the side of Lars' face he could see. "And... say I'm sorry about the match. That sucked."
 
Lars winced as Blake spoke, as it became instantly clear he had hurt his feelings with his assumptions. But he didn't actually know where he stood with Blake, so had it really been that strange of him to assume? He bit his lip, suddenly feeling close to tears as Blake said it had sucked. As if he understood. "It did suck." He said shortly. "And it sucked last year too." He swallowed. "And it will suck again next year as we lose again. When I let Minnie and our whole house down again one last time before I graduate." He tensed a bit. "You don't understand, with your... perfect team of champions and the way you were like made to be the captain." He spat out, surprising at the anger in his own voice. "And I know you really think I'm a loser, that we're losers. You don't have to pretend." He added bitterly. "Well, I know I am a f***ing loser, and you've known it all along too." He snapped, tensing up more and turning his head way from Blake.
 
If Blake hadn't already realised he had messed up, it would have become more than clear as Lars went on. He felt his face falling as Lars spoke, the bitterness in his voice like a dagger to the gut. "I don't think that!" He said quickly, pulling away from Lars a little. "You guys played a good game, it was just bad luck. You've got a good team." Blake looked down, scooting back a bit more. "I'll... give you some space if you want. I just... wanted to check on you." He had never seen Lars hurt like this, not really, and if he was making things worse Blake knew he needed to get out of here.
 
Lars winced as Blake pulled away from him, finally turning to look at him. "You did think that, before." He said, his voice sounding desperate even to his own ears. "And... and you called me and Elliot losers at the meeting, remember? You must think it somewhat." He said, frowning and looking down again. To his horror, he felt tears prick at his eyes. "And it's not wrong. I just know we'll be in last place again, and Minnie will blame it all on herself when it's really because she has a crappy co-captain." He said, his voice shaking a little. But then he reached out and grabbed Blake's arm, looking back at him. "Please don't go." He added quietly. "I'm sorry for swearing."
 
Blake winced when Lars brought up the meeting, heart sinking. "That was just a cover!" He said quickly. "It'd be weird if I didn't pick on you, I didn't actually mean it." He insisted, cringing at the thought that Lars had been lingering on that comment this whole time. He had thought what he was doing was clear, but obviously it hadn't been. He shook his head urgently when Lars started blaming himself for the loss, leaning a little closer. "That's not true at all, there's nothing you could have done!" Blake hesitated, trying to find the words for what he was thinking. "Look, the thing Seekers never like to admit is that it's not... really a skill position. Like, yeah, you have to be good at flying to do dives and quick turns and all that crap, but it's... really just down to luck. Look, if the snitch happens to show up on Elliot's side of the pitch, I lose. That's it, I just lose. If he's closer, there's nothing I can do about it. We like to walk around like we're the stars of the team 'cause we've got big egos or whatever, but pretty much every game is a roll of the dice. Losing doesn't mean your team's bad, and it definitely doesn't mean you're a bad captain, you just... didn't get lucky this time." Blake paused, lingering with Lars' hand on his arm, meeting the Ravenclaw's eyes for a moment. He couldn't help a small laugh at Lars' apology, shaking his head quickly. "Swear as much as you want to, bro."
 
Lars fidgeted with his sleeve and shrugged at Blake's words. "I know. " He muttered. "But you've always said it." He glanced at him. "If your team had lost you would be furious." He said quietly. "Why is it different when its me?" But he relaxed a little as Blake kept on talking, saying there was nothing he could have done. He was surprised when Blake admitted that being a seeker was largely about luck. Lars had thought it a few times in the past, but had never dreamed that Blake would admit such a thing. He felt a warmth in his chest as he realized that Blake was saying all this to... cheer him up. He hesitated, then moved his hand down Blake's arm to rest on his wrist. Taking his hand felt like a step too far, a boundary they hadn't gotten to yet. "Thank you." He said quietly. "That makes me feel... a little better." He paused. "But then how come Slytherin has won all this time?" He asked, raising his eyebrows a little. "Are you admitting it's not all your incredible skill, captain?" He asked, a joking tone returning to his voice. He paused. "And no, I didn't really enjoy swearing. It felt weird."
 
Blake shrugged uncomfortably. "I'd... be furious at myself, 'cause it always feels like there was more I could have done. Even if there wasn't." He explained, shoulders hunching a little in discomfort. Blake had never really examined his feelings about Quidditch before, and now that he had to think about it, he didn't love what he was finding. "But... I mean, you're not the seeker. There's nothing you could have done, even under the best circumstances. So there's no point blaming yourself." He was relieved to see the change in Lars' expression, glad that he had managed to say something right. Lars' hand was warm on his wrist, and he shifted his hand to take hold of it instead, a little clumsy as he laced their fingers together. He smiled when Lars managed to tease him, glad he had helped. "You can't tell anyone I said that." He said with a small smile. "As far as they're concerned I'm a prodigy on a broom. But... I mean, partly I just have good luck, and partly.... I am good at flying, and... maybe gutsier than I should be. I almost completely wrecked myself in the last match." Blake hesitated, thinking back to that victory. "Everyone thinks I made this heroic dive for the snitch, but I was trying to wronski feint Elliot and I just happened to spot the thing once I was already on the way down. That's the luck element, and the rest was... a combination of being stupid enough to get that close to the ground, and being quick enough on a broom to pull out of the dive. It's always a combination of stuff. But mostly, I'm... lucky." He shrugged, trying to ignore the discomfort at admitting that. It felt weak, the kind of weakness his dad wouldn't hesitate to punish. Blake was supposed to be a champion, a hero, there wasn't any option for a world where he was just lucky. He pushed those thoughts aside though, chuckling softly at Lars' comment about swearing. "Really? They're just words..."
 
Lars frowned when Blake made it clear he would have expected more from himself than he expected from Lars. "It wasn't Minnie's fault either." He said defensively as Blake brought up the seeker thing. "Nor Lily's." He added. "But... I'll try not to just blame myself either." He conceded after a moment. As Blake grabbed his hand and entwined their fingers, Lars felt his face heat up. He smiled a little, both thrilled and nervous at this development. Lars smiled slightly as Blake said he couldn't tell anyone what he said. "They won't believe me anyway." He murmured with a shrug. Lars squeezed his hand slightly when Blake mentioned almost completely wrecking himself last time. He had been terrified watching the match. "You're not just lucky." He said quietly. "You're talented and brave, too." He hesitated. "Not that Elliot isn't, but... like you said, you dared to go further." He said quietly. It felt weird to even mention Elliot now that he was with Blake. Lars then shrugged a bit as Blake made a comment about swearing. "It's not something I usually do." He admitted.
 
Blake sighed softly and nodded. "It's not their faults, yeah, but it's definitely not yours. It just... happened, it was bad luck." He said gently, running his thumb softly over the knuckles of Lars' hand as he spoke. This felt... different to kissing. It wasn't about... wanting Lars, it was about wanting Lars. It felt... right, righter than Blake had ever expected. He tried not to get fixated on his own feelings though, focusing on Lars. A small smile crept onto his face as Lars complimented him, heart swelling in a way he had never felt before. Blake said the same kind of thing about himself all the time, had been hearing all about how wonderful and talented he was his whole life, but... somehow hearing it from Lars felt real in a way he had never realised the compliments from his family hadn't been real before. Lars saw him, and liked him, and that feeling was.... incomparable. "Thanks." He said with a nervous awkward smile. "But... I still got lucky. That's my point." He laughed softly at Lars comment about swearing, smiling fondly. "Well, you can swear around me any time you want. I won't tell Professor Josephs to take away your badge."
 

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