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Before he met Luca Fauntleroy, Duke had never considered himself an observant man.
Sure, he noticed the little things when he was performing; that was part of his craft, making illusions with sleight of hand, but when it came to people he was often one to overlook things.
When the fiery-haired temperamental bastard waltzed up to his stall and tore his illusion to pieces all those years ago, he was instantly enamored. The man captivated him as much as he annoyed him.
Over the years of time together, as they began to grow closer as magician and assistant, Duke noticed many little things about Luca.
The most obvious of course was his temper. It took little to send the man into a rage, his eye twitching (always his right eye) and his voice pitching up (like a Pomeranian) and his mouth grimacing (like a little kitten hissing)… it was quite fun to push his buttons.
Additionally, he never got his hands dirty and never physically fought when he was angry. Only yelled.
It didn’t take long for Duke to figure out that grabbing his tie always shut him up, if only for a minute before he blew up again, his pale face turning pink with rage. Like an off switch, almost. He used this knowledge to his utmost advantage, and to the ginger man’s dismay.
The funniest revelation was that Luca was quite scared of rabbits. He had to do away with the classic pulling a rabbit out of a hat trick lest Luca froze up on stage like a deer. Luca had to smack him a few times to get Duke to stop laughing at him. Despite how hilarious Duke found his fear, he never brought a rabbit on-stage again.
Luca never drank caffeine. Not even when they pulled all-nighters for shows, much to Duke’s surprise. He was a man who needed a cup of coffee every morning else he’d feel as if he were dying, while Luca was very much a morning person who drew back the blinds and shone light into Duke’s face until he woke up. One day Duke had asked him why he didn’t like coffee, and he said he didn’t like the taste.
When Luca did sleep, that was the only time he ever looked peaceful. Duke always had the urge to hit him with a hammer whenever he saw him asleep, for some reason.
He soon noticed barely-there details as well.
How his eyes widened ever so slightly when he ate good food and squinted when he tried to be intimidating. It never worked, but it was almost cute.
When he concentrated or was thinking deeply, he’d have this odd habit of looking slightly up.
Duke admired how expressive he was with just his eyes.
Despite how much drinking they did, Luca was not one who could hold a lot of alcohol. Whenever he drank more than one glass of wine, he’d get wobbly and start forgetting English, speaking only in slurred French. Duke would have to pry the bottle from his hands before he got to this state, making Luca pout like a child.
Duke admired how expressive he was in general.
When they smoked, he always held his cigarettes between his middle and forefinger, the fancy prick.
Luca had two smiles. One was practiced, used when we wanted something or was performing. The other was only seen in the dark rooms between shows, when he was wine-drunk and loose-lipped, crooked and real and so very Luca.
Duke’s heart always did a funny little flip the few times he saw it.
Duke and Luca, The Fearless Fortunato and Luchesi, a pair. Duke had, begrudgingly, begun to realize that perhaps he didn’t mind company after all. Not that he would ever admit it.