Page 32 of Darien
FOURTEEN
Somehow, Darien didn’t feel right about calling Ken. After what had happened in this house today, it seemed to him that maybe going out with Ken would be throwing fuel on a fire that was already raging. And Aaron was out of the question. If Aaron had ever hung out with any of them outside of work, Darien certainly didn’t know about it.
So that left Lance. They were the only people who were somewhat like friends, other than Noah, that Darien even had, and Noah was passed out in bed after riding Darien into oblivion. That whole thing had been weird because while it had felt amazing, it had left Darien feeling vaguely unsettled and uncertain.
Noah took everything so seriously, even sex. Maybe even especially sex. Darien was too young to be tied down like this, wasn’t he? He needed to go out, have some fun, get away from Noah and the intensity that he brought up in Darien.
Not that Lance would be available, he was sure. The guy was pretty much always on a date, probably the most in the public eye because he put himself there. Still, Darien sent the text off, asking if Lance wanted to do something, hang out, hit a bar, maybe. Getting some drinks into himself might relieve a lot of the tension he was feeling.
To his surprise, Lance texted him back immediately, telling him to come to a bar, one that Darien recognized as being a popular gay hangout. Surprised, but not about to look this gift horse in the mouth, Darien got himself dressed and looked himself over in the mirror. Tight leather pants and a white, romantic, shirt open over his chest, and he called it good. He looked hot.
The whole time he was dressing, he kept looking at the bed, almost begging Noah to wake up and ask him where he was going. Maybe then, they could talk this out, since screwing it out obviously hadn’t worked. But Noah lay still on the bed, his breathing deep and regular, and eventually, Darien just walked out of the room.
Lance was there waiting at the bar, his long, long legs stretched out, his sleepy green eyes scanning the room, taking in the details of all of the other men there. Lance had this way about him, this way of getting people to scramble to get into bed with him, that Darien had always deeply admired and envied, and it was fun to see him in action.
“No date?” Darien teased, as he took the barstool beside Lance, who didn’t so much sit on it as he did drape himself over it. Effortless, sexual, and elegant, that was Lance, but he was also carefree and a lot of fun to be around.
Fun was exactly what Darien needed. He ordered a beer and rolled his eyes when he was asked for ID. None of the other guys ever got asked, only him. Apparently, he looked younger than his age.
“I had one. Didn’t work out.” Lance gave an eloquent little shrug, one shoulder rising and then falling again. “What about you? Shouldn’t you be with your new boyfriend?”
Darien accepted the bottle of beer that he was brought and then went to raise it to his lips. He froze when Lance spoke to him, though, and slowly, he brought the glass bottle back down to the polished wood of the counter.
His new boyfriend. Darien hadn’t told anyone about that, and yet, here Lance was, speaking like it was just a fact. For a moment, Darien froze up, and then he managed to crack his jaw open enough to take that belated sip of beer, which seemed to loosen him up a little.
“I don’t think … I don’t know if he’s my boyfriend,” He admitted. Damn it, he hadn’t come here to talk about Noah, but here Lance was, listening, his head tilted so that his soft, dark waves of hair fell over his shoulder, his emerald eyes filled with something like sympathy as he watched Darien.
So it all came out. Darien opened his mouth, and he let himself just talk because the truth was, even though Lance was a terrible tease and a flirt, he was also a good guy. Probably one of the least judgemental people that Darien had ever met, and it seemed like fate that they had been brought together right when Darien needed someone like that in his life.
“He saw Ken and me together. We weren’t doing anything! Justin was there, too, we were figuring out songs and stuff, but Noah came in, and Ken was beside me, and Noah just freaked! He went to the bedroom …”
The more the words came, the better Darien felt. A tiny hole appeared in the dam that was holding his emotions back, and it widened as he spoke. That dam gave way completely, and the water gushed forth, and when Darien finally stopped talking, he felt curiously empty, but also cleansed, somehow. Used up, but something like hope had returned.
This was what he had wanted, to get this feeling, only he’d wanted it with Noah, not Lance. But Noah had refused to talk to him, had shut him up with kisses every time he’d tried to say anything, and Lance was here, listening to every word he spoke.
As Darien talked, he drank. When he finished one beer, Lance ordered him another, and as it started to work on him, his tongue moved even more freely, and more words started to slip out.
He told Lance things that he had never told anyone before. He told him about how Noah had been the one that Darien had left behind. Their whole sad story spilled out of him in a torrent of words, and Lance listened to all of it, a slight frown on his face like he was carefully considering every word.
“You love him,” Lance finally spoke, his words slow and measured. He had been keeping up with Darien on the beers, but Lance drank more often, and he didn’t seem nearly as drunk as Darien was starting to feel. How much had he drunk, anyway? “That’s what you’re saying.”
Darien winced a little. It still felt decidedly odd to admit to those words to another person. Even to himself, they stuck a little, caught in the awkward corners of his mind. But Lance had been so nice to him, listening to him as he babbled, and he couldn’t help but trust him as he nodded a little.
Yes. God yes, he loved Noah. He loved him more than anything.
“Yeah. I love him, but I don’t know how to be with someone who takes everything so seriously,” Darien admitted. “He always has. It’s all about school with him …” He was talking again, ready to go off into another rush of words, ready to exhaust himself more with them, but Lance held up a hand and, for the first time, he stopped him.
“Is it worth it?”
Those four words, they really laid it all out on the line, didn’t they? Like a punch to the gut, they brought everything into sharp focus—no holds barred, just laying the cards out on the table. No bullshit.
Is it worth it?
Was it?
As Darien tried to think about that, as he tried to shove the idea through his drunk, reeling brain, Lance kept on speaking.
“You love him, and he loves you, right? So whatever the issues are between the two of you, is it worth dealing with them? Because if not, you guys are going to need to face that.”
