Page 15 of Lance
SEVEN
It all made sense. Lance had agreed to do this, and if there was going to be any point to it at all, then, of course, he needed to be seen out in public with Ken. Of course, they had to go on dates so that everyone could see them. Otherwise, there was really no point in even doing this fake boyfriend thing.
Still, the full scope of it hadn’t really kicked in for Lance. Not until Ken casually looked at him and asked him when they were going out. Not until Lester told them both that he had gotten Noah, who was Darien’s boyfriend and who was still the social media manager, to start carefully placing rumors on the internet that Lance and Ken had started dating.
Or maybe it didn’t even hit then. Maybe it wasn’t until he and Ken were out at a movie at a theater in San Francisco, having made a big entrance, walking close together and giving each other secret little smiles. Or maybe until Ken gripped Lance’s arm and drew it over his broad shoulders, cuddling up to him as the lights went down.
People were looking. It was working. But the whole movie, Lance was uncomfortably aware of his best friend’s body, and the strangeness of having it so close to his. Not that he minded touching Ken, it was just a little bit bizarre. Or a lot.
As they left the theater, Ken took his hand, slipping his fingers through Lance’s. Uneasily, Lance let it happen. Ken was, it seemed, much better at this than Lance was, and truthfully, Lance was grateful that he’d been paired with him. Imagine trying to do this with Aaron!
“Okay, handsome,” Ken said, grinning at him. God, the guy was enjoying this, wasn’t he? He probably knew how uncomfortable Lance was with this. “Let’s just walk around. Let people see us.”
It made sense. There were a few paparazzi around already, snapping pictures, and they only attracted more the more they walked. They would be in all of the tabloids, the same ones that had reported Lance being with different women. Within a week, everyone in America who cared, or even who went through a supermarket checkout, would know that they were dating.
And all they had to do was walk, hand in hand. Everyone would just make their assumptions from that. Was it so great a price to pay? It wasn’t like he and Ken wouldn’t be hanging out together anyway.
Lance did his best to ignore the photographers. He hadn’t gotten used to it yet, how people cared about his life so much. He really didn’t feel like he’d changed that much, he was still the same person that he’d always been, it’s just that people seemed to care a hell of a lot more now than they had before.
He stopped as his eyes skimmed over a plate glass window and then caught on the scene within. It was a pet store and framed neatly in the clear glass of the window, there were three adorable little balls of fluff batting at each other, playing with each other, tumbling over each other’s head and waving their tiny paws at each other ferociously.
“Huh,” Ken commented, drawing to a stop beside him, looking at the display as well. “I didn’t know you were into cats, babe.”
Would that ever get to be something he was used to? Ken was right to call him by those affectionate names because anything that they said to each other might be overheard, but it was just subtly wrong. Not gross or anything, it just didn’t feel right.
“Yeah. These guys are pretty cute,” Lance admitted, before turning his gaze away and continuing to walk. The little creatures were pretty cute, but Lance didn’t have any faith in his ability to take care of something that tiny. Hell, he barely trusted himself to take care of himself, much less anyone else.
Finally, they made it back to the hotel where they were staying, and it was a relief to step into the suite of rooms that the band was sharing, all linked by a common space. It felt like a huge, awkward weight was lifted from him as he was able to release Ken’s hand and step away from him.
Jamie was there, idly watching TV as he brushed his hair, which was, Lance couldn’t help but notice, wet from the shower. It was darker than usual with the moisture, almost a deep brown, with only hints of the fire that normally gleamed within it, and it made his skin look even more flawless than it usually did.
Jamie glanced up as they came in, his face expressionless, and then went back to what he was doing with nothing more than a nod of greeting. The tension which simmered between Ken and Jamie made things deeply awkward whenever they were together, so it didn’t shock Lance at all when Ken disappeared off to his own room without saying anything at all, without even a grunt or the slightest acknowledgment of Jamie.
For a moment, Lance considered going to his own room. He could use some time alone, after that strangely awkward experience with Ken. But then, as he just so happened to look at Jamie, he saw a rare unguarded moment as the beautiful redhead looked at Ken as he shut the door just short of actually slamming it.
Jamie looked so tired, for just a second. So vulnerable and much younger and less cynical than usual. The sight of him touched Lance’s heart, and even though Jamie pulled himself together quickly, even though he looked back at the television like it meant nothing to him that Ken was, even Lance had to admit, being an enormous dick to Jamie, Lance knew better.
It bugged Jamie, just like it would bug most people. No matter how tough Jamie liked to pretend he was, he was human, and maybe even more sensitive than a lot of people. For whatever reason, he just didn’t want to show it.
Maybe Lance was wrong, but that was the sense he got. And even though he knew it was a terrible, no good, very bad idea, he found himself dropping down onto the couch beside Jamie, who didn’t say anything but who moved a little to give Lance room.
The silence lingered, and Lance found himself wanting to say something, anything, to fill it. He wanted to apologize for Ken, but then, he would need to apologize for his own actions, too. Or lack of actions, really, was more accurate. He knew that Ken was being a jerk, and he knew why, and he wasn’t doing nearly enough to stop it.
That was starting to seem more and more uncool to him, but, of course, the situation was a little bit more complicated than that. Why couldn’t he and Jamie have met when there was no band to worry about? No Ken, and no Lester?
With a sigh, Lance reclined back against the couch, and after a while, he got up, and he did go to his room. But instead of staying there, he just grabbed a sketchbook, one that he hadn’t used in ages, and went back into the living room.
Something about being around Jamie made him want to draw again, and these days, as tired as he was from the work it took to be in the band, inspiration came seldom. When he had it, he had to strike, because mostly, he was too exhausted.
It was strangely peaceful, he realized, sketching while Jamie sat and watched television. The other man drew his legs up onto the couch, his hair dying into wild curls. Quietly, Lance started to sketch him, because as far as drawing subjects went, he could do a lot worse than this gorgeous man.
He looked like a statue, a marble sculpture, except for the dark fire of his hair. Lance tried to be careful, he didn’t know how Jamie would feel about being drawn, but slowly, the other man’s eyes slid around to him, and he shot Lance a confident little smirk.
“What are you drawing?” he asked, but the way he said it, with a coy tilt of his head, it was pretty clear to Lance that he knew very well. It wasn’t like the guy could exactly fail to know just how utterly, breathtakingly beautiful he was.
“You,” Lance admitted, and Jamie’s smirk widened into a grin.
“Okay,” Jamie allowed, and then he stretched out on the couch, placing his feet in Lance’s lap, squirming around until he got comfortable. “Draw me like one of your French girls, Jack.”
