Bouquet - Part Four

[pensnest]

The gravel crunched, the dogs barked, the door chime sounded. Lance levered himself up from his desk and went to let JC in. He allowed himself a moment of curiosity—why was JC coming over? Normally, 'C would just talk about whatever he wanted to talk about on the phone. But if 'C wanted to continue their conversation from the release party in person, that was more than fine with Lance.

It wasn't JC on the doorstep.

Lance found himself clutching a bunch of flowers, and the dogs flowed past him, yelping ecstatically. Traitors.

"I'm sorry," said Adam, with his best I'm a sweet little boy look. Hah.

"What are you doing here? Did you get JC to bring you over, is that why he called?" Lance was already pissed at Adam, and this brought the temperature up nicely. Using JC was not acceptable, and Lance was in no mood to be friendly.

"They wouldn't let me through the gate, and you wouldn't take my calls."

"Get a clue—I didn't want to talk to you." Lance folded his arms.

"It's important. Please."

"Can't imagine we have anything to say to one another." Besides, Lance thought, you never wanted to talk to me before, except to fill in the time between one round and the next. "And the only times you ever called me were when you wanted something from me. What do you want now, and what makes you think I want to give it you?"

"I want to apologize, I want to make things right."

Lance laughed. "Fine. Apology accepted, we're good. So you can get out of here." He grabbed at the dogs with his free hand, caught Foster's collar easily, but Dingo was still wagging around Adam and wouldn't come to heel. Stupid animal.

"Please, Lance. We need to talk. Let me come in." Adam, infuriatingly, got a hold on Dingo's collar, and the ridiculous dog kept twisting his head to look up adoringly.

Okay, then. He was in the mood for a fight. Lance shoved the door wide, and stepped inside with Foster, and Adam and Dingo followed. Lance looked in irritation at the flowers in his hand. What, was he a girl now? He stomped into the kitchen and filled the sink with water for them. He turned around, and a quick flash of memory hit him, Adam standing right here and Lance on his knees. He moved away from the sink.

"So," he said. "Let me get this right. Last time you called me, you wanted us to have sex. Which we did. And after that, let me count the times you called to say hi, how are you, to fill me in on what you were doing, to talk about world peace or football or the price of sushi or whatever, oh, wait, that's easy. None." He was not, he was absolutely not going to tell Adam Fucking Lambert how much he'd been hoping for that call, how much it had hurt when it never came. "Which is fine, because I get it, one night stand, that's how it works. But now I'm supposed to want to talk to you?"

Adam looked pissed, now. Good. "You could have called me!" He stepped closer.

Lance moved in, got up in his face. "What for? I get plenty of sex without you, with guys who actually want to spend time with me."

"I was busy! It's been crazy, this last month."

"And besides, it never even crossed your mind, did it?"

"I thought about you!"

"Well, fuck you very much!"

"I did! A lot! Every night."

"You—fantasized about me when you jerked off?" It wasn't the inevitable conclusion, but he'd hit the target dead center, because Adam reddened.

"Yes, okay, I did," Adam said, snarling at him from six inches away. Damn him for being so much taller than Lance. "You were fucking hot, okay? It's not a crime to remember great sex! Yeah, I fantasized about you, I thought about what we did and what we could do next time, and I guess I extrapolated too much, I pushed you too far because I'd been thinking about all the ways we could fuck."

"You wanted to play games with me because of all the hot sex we'd been having IN YOUR MIND?"

There was a loud bark from Dingo, excited to join in the shouting. Foster nosed worriedly against Lance's hand. And Adam looked so embarrassed, suddenly, Lance wanted very much to laugh. He clamped his jaw down on the impulse. "I'll put them in the yard," he said, coolly. Trust the dogs to turn a dramatic moment into a farce.

He let them outside and closed the door. Sighed. Refrigerator, vodka, tonic, ice, two glasses.

Warily, Adam took his drink and sat as indicated at the far end of the kitchen table. "I am honestly sorry, Lance. I didn't think of it as a booty call, or if I did, it wasn't a bad thing, I just, I'd been imagining... And I was kind of excited by the whole album release, it was such a high I didn't stop to think. I'm sorry I pushed you into something you weren't ready for. If you hadn't freaked, we could have talked. I guess going kinky right off was too much."

Lance gaped at him. "Kinky? Do you seriously think—tying someone to the bed isn't kinky, it's, it's, like, everyone does that! Sixteen-year-olds in their first relationship do it! Missionaries do it!"

"Oh. Er. Was it the vibrator?"

"Did you even look in the second drawer of my nightstand? Come on, Adam, toys aren't scary." He took a deep breath. "Look. I owe you an apology too. I'm sorry. It was a shitty thing to do, running out like that, I should have figured out that I couldn't deal with it before we ever got that far."

"I don't understand what... what I did wrong. I mean, I asked if it was okay, and you said yes."

"Yeah. I—it wasn't the set-up, being tied up is great and toys are fun. It was—you wanted me to be—to give you more than I was ready to give. I mean, it was all about sex with us, and then suddenly you were all, look at me, I want to see how you feel, and I wasn't, I don't." He'd felt a chill of panic, of terror that he'd do what Adam wanted. No way in hell was Lance willing to let Adam see how he felt. He'd had to get out of there to save something of his self-respect. He lifted his chin and looked Adam straight in the eye. "We just had sex, Adam, that's all. You don't get any more than that."

There was a thoughtful pause. "It doesn't have to be just sex, does it?" Adam said. "You said you never had one night stands."

"Not until you, no." Lance remembered it very clearly, his own admission that every other man he'd slept with had been more to him than a one-off. He'd given Adam the choice of making it more, and Adam's resounding silence had made it clear that he wasn't interested. "You said it all, five minutes ago, you said you were busy. I know what that's like, I know exactly what it's like, but people make time for things that matter. I've seen all of my guys take a moment to call their girl, in the car on the way to an interview, or between takes on a video shoot, or whatever. I always called home, or sent a postcard, even when we were doing three shows a day and so tired we could hardly move. If it matters, you make time." If you don't make time, it doesn't matter.

"I read your book."

Lance stared.

"I read your book, I googled you, I—it was like, I spent time with you."

"You just didn't actually need me around," Lance said, dryly.

"That's not what I meant," said Adam, helplessly.

"No, I get that. I do." Lance was, actually, quite touched, much against his will. Anger was such a useful defense, but... Adam had been thinking about him, even if Adam was also an idiot who couldn't pick up the phone. "So, what are we talking about? I mean, you want us to get to know each other, what?"

"I don't know, I just... I don't even know if we have anything in common, but we could maybe find out?"

"I guess," said Lance, guardedly.

"I'm not looking for a boyfriend," Adam clarified. "What with the tour coming up and all that's happening with me right now, I'm not ready for that. No exclusivity deals."

"That's fair." It wasn't what he wanted, but it was honest, and Lance appreciated that. As far as it went. "Not with all those twinks out there going Oh my God It's Adam Lambert, quick, lube me up!"

Adam snorted vodka tonic. He spluttered and flailed and coughed, waving helplessly, and tears ran down his cheeks. Lance found him a box of Kleenex and watched in amusement as the paroxysms died down.

"Oh, fuck, that is so exactly true!" Adam wiped his eyes—just as well he wasn't wearing eyeliner today. "You get that, too?"

"Oh, yes." Lance grinned. "Reminds me of the groupie days. Never was tempted then, either."

"Okay, so, yeah. I do take advantage—now I'm going to start laughing next time I get some guy—you are evil, Lance Bass! Damn, I wish I'd known that! I guess it comes back to, I should have made some time. Look, I want to see you again, if we can make it happen. If you want to. I'd like to get to know you better. We seem to be able to talk, um, in between sex, we should be able to talk and not actually end up in bed, don't you think?"

Lance wasn't sure he saw the appeal. He was all for them getting to know each other, but Adam, right there in the room, and no sex? The hell with that. Still, he had a feeling he didn't need to worry about it—the two of them together, sex was going to happen. "Then... we're kind of dating, without the going out in public together part?"

"Yeah. If that works for you? I guess we don't get to go out to clubs together. The gossip would be hideous."

"Just as well," said Lance. "I'm not much of a dancer."

"That's not what Katy says," said Adam, and grinned.

"She's adorable, but I think she's biased."

"I think there's some fan site she still visits. She found the picture of your snake."

Lance offered an innocent, inquiring expression.

"It had a caption on it. I are size queen." Adam nodded regretfully.

Lance burst out laughing. "It was a hell of a snake!" he insisted.

Adam tried for an innocent look, failed, badly, and couldn't stop his own laugh bubbling out. Really, he had the sexiest laugh in the world, not that Lance was going to tell him so. "And the stuff you've done," Adam said eventually, "it's like you live in a completely different world than me, so, you know, we could talk about all kinds of things. Now, if you like—I have this thing tonight, and I'm rehearsing like crazy the rest of this week, but we could talk now."

"The Christmas Auction charity thing?"

"Yes. You too?"

Lance nodded. "I think everyone's going to that."

"But we have three or four hours, so we could, um, order pizza? You get deliveries out here, don't you?"

"Sure, but. Pizza? I'm pretty sure I have food in the house."

"Yeah, but you know what, I'm in the mood for pepperoni. You do like pepperoni, right? Otherwise we may have to re-think the whole dating deal."

"You, hold on—pepperoni? Pizza? Wait a second, you wouldn't eat, I thought you—" Lance spluttered indignantly. He'd been so careful not to fix bacon for breakfast!

"I don't like prunes," said Adam, obviously trying not very hard to keep a straight face. "Besides, you were so sweet, offering to send out for kosher deli for me."

Lance attempted a reproving glare, but in the face of that gleeful grin, gave up. "Pepperoni pizza. Right." He didn't treat himself to pizza very often, but there were menus on the mutt-shaped pinboard Briahna had given him for his last birthday. They negotiated briefly about ham, mushrooms, onions, and he dialed and ordered for delivery in ninety minutes. He had plans for the next hour or so.

"Okay," Adam said. "So, we talk. Um. Where d'you want to start?"

Lance looked at him.

"If... uh."

Lance raised an eyebrow, just a little.

"Or," said Adam, "possibly..."

"In the circumstances," said Lance.

"It would be kinda nice," said Adam.

"Since you made such an effort to come see me," said Lance, "and brought me flowers an' all." He abandoned his own chair and straddled Adam's lap. "It'd be ungracious to send you home without saying thank you."

"And a nice Southern boy like you would never be ungracious."

"Absolutely not. So do you have any idea what I could do to express my appreciation?"

"Hmm," Adam said, thoughtfully. "You know, sixty-nine has always been one of my favorite numbers."

"There you are. Something we have in common."

* * *

"Yeah, Joe, I have something to tell you, and it's not something I say very often, in fact I may never ever say it again," said Lance.

Oh. Okay. Joey sounded baffled. What is it?

"You were right."

Woo hoo! Yay me! Uh. What about?

"Adam Lambert kinda is my type."

Ah-HAH! See, I'm Italian. We know these things.

Lance rolled his eyes, but Joey was entitled to his moment. "Yeah, you knew best."

So are you, what, are you guys dating now?

"Kind of. It's pretty casual."

Casual. That doesn't sound like you.

"Well, no. Not really. But casual is better than nothing at all, which is what I thought we had. He doesn't have a lot of time, anyhow, he's preparing for his tour, so. But we keep in touch."

Doesn't sound like you're getting enough hot man sexin', Joey said, as Joey inevitably would say.

"I'm doing all right. Maybe not enough quantity, you know what rehearsals are like, but I can't complain about the quality."

The trick is to get both, Joey said, irritatingly smug.

"Yeah, yeah, one of these days I'm going to tell Kelly about how you brag, and she'll cut you off, and then where will you be?"

Joey just laughed. I'm guessing you guys are trying to keep things quiet.

"Yeah. The good thing is, there was all that fuss about were we dating when Flower got leaked, and we weren't, so I think people were finally convinced there was nothing to find, and they don't seem to be looking anymore. At least, not right now. I can probably turn up at one of his shows and nobody'll think anything of it."

You don't—make sure you don't short-change yourself, Joey said, serious now. I know you, you want the whole deal, you're not good with casual. Don't let him dictate.

"No, it's good, we agreed."

Mmm. So you're going to take advantage of not being boyfriends, and keep seeing other guys, right?

"Er, I. Probably. Sure. And we do talk a lot even if he's not here, we call."

Phone sex isn't like the real thing.

"Joey!" It wasn't as good as the real thing, but it wasn't a bad substitute, Lance thought. "We actually have conversations." Usually after the phone sex, which was maybe weird, when he thought about it, but he and Adam seemed to have a habit of getting to the sex before the talking.

Chris always said you had the best voice for phone sex.

"Okay, Chris is back on the List." Lance hadn't kept a serious shit-list for years (except for the handful of people who would never, ever be off it), but Joey loved the whole concept.

Oh, I meant to ask, is JC on the List? 'Cause he was pretty worried there.

"No, JC's fine. I called him, I told him he actually did me a favor. Anyway, I can't seem to say no to Adam, no sense blaming other people for the same thing."

You take care, you hear?

"I will. I am."

And you know, if you need to have him taken care of, I know people. I'm Italian. I got connections.

"Yeah, but Joe, you're big hugs and lasagna and crying at weddings Italian, not the sleeps with the fishes kind. Anyway, I know what I'm doing. I'll be fine."

Okay. Joey didn't sound convinced, and Lance knew he wasn't going to be able to convince Joey of something he wasn't absolutely sure of himself, so he asked what Briahna wanted for Christmas instead, and threatened to buy her a pony. That worked.

* * *

Blue Salvia
I think of you

Adam lay back on the couch and dabbed at his sticky belly with a Kleenex. Lance really knew how to talk to a guy. And his voice, when he dropped into his sex register, was a turn-on in itself, and listening to him come... JC had been on the right track, back when they recorded together, asking Lance to tape himself masturbating.

He wasn't ready to end the call, and he didn't want to break the mood totally by talking about his tour itinerary or the screw-up with his dancers during this evening's show. But there was something he had been meaning to ask... "So what is kinky, then?"

Adam could almost feel Lance frowning at him. He grinned. Discomposing Lance, the most fun they could have without an orgasm at the end of it. But he did want to have this conversation, and now seemed like as good a time as any. "Tying someone to the bedposts doesn't count. So what does?"

I. Um. Pain? And, um, humiliation. I wouldn't want that. Not sexy. Or anything public.

"No fantasies about having sex on stage, then," said Adam, vaguely disappointed.

Oh, well, fantasies, said Lance. I wouldn't do it, though, or, I mean, anything where people could see. If it was risky enough to be hot, it'd be so risky I wouldn't take the risk. I really don't want the entire world knowing what I do in bed.

"No, me neither." Adam shuddered at the thought. Perez Hilton gloating over the details of his sex life, ick. "What else don't you do?"

Lance sighed resignedly. I'm not into serious bondage, the kind that involves specialist equipment or intricate things with string.

"Intricate things with string?" Adam snickered. It wasn't even that funny, it was just somehow the way Lance put it, it sounded so ridiculous.

You know, where someone is all trussed up, more like an art exhibit than sex. I've seen some photos, they were beautiful pictures but they didn't turn me on at all. I think maybe if something is too precise, it doesn't feel like sex any more, not for me. I guess. Honestly, I don't really think about this stuff much. If there's something you want to do, we can try it and see how it feels.

"So if I wanted you to wear stockings and silk panties?"

Silk is nice, Lance said agreeably.

"Or watersports?"

Sure.

"I'm kinda... impressed." It was true, Adam thought. He'd started out with a lot of assumptions about Lance and most of them didn't seem to hold up at all. "You told me you were a sweet old-fashioned guy."

Well, you know how it goes—I'm normal, you're kinky, he's a filthy pervert. I think sex should be about having a good time and making sure your partner has a good time, so if something turns you on, then I guess I'll try it.

"I'm going to start a list," Adam said.

I still have some of your IOUs, Lance reminded him.

Yeah, they were only half-way through Lance's toy drawer. But right now Adam was touring, and it was going to be a while before he got to play with Lance in person again. "Did you do any of this stuff before? Stuff that fits your definition of kink, I mean."

Not really. I guess my long-term guys weren't interested and with short-term ones we never really got to that level.

"Me, I like a bit of variety. The spice of life, and all that."

You mean you just have a short attention span.

"Nnnnnnnnmmmmaybe. I mean. I don't seem to be very good at long-term." There was a pause, presumably Lance assimilating that. It was only fair to warn him, Adam thought.

You and, um, Brad lasted a while, though.

"Yeah."

So, you know you can do it if you want to.

"Yeah, but. I wanted. I thought we were going to be, I guess it sounds crazy to say it but I thought we were going to be forever. I mean, he was, we just, we fit, he was like my soul-mate. My perfect match, all the way. And... I couldn't hold on to him, so what chance do I have with anyone else?" Adam's stomach tensed. He had not meant to say that.

Lance was silent for a moment. Sometimes what you think you want isn't what you need.

"Hey, are you quoting the Rolling Stones at me?" Adam said, lightly. "If so you need to get the words right." He was not going to get teary, not now. He was over Brad. Really.

No, but, I'm thinking of me and Reichen. You know, he might have been tailor-made for me, everything I thought I wanted in one big handsome package, but it didn't really work out for me either, so.

"It must have been hard, breaking up with the guy you came out for. I mean, not that you exactly, but you sort of did."

That was probably why it went on as long as it did. I didn't want to admit it wasn't working.

"Public breakups are a bitch," Adam said, feeling as though he ought to offer a bit more consolation, but he remembered the gossip about Reichen Lehmkuhl and he couldn't think of anything better to say.

Yeah, but private ones are almost worse. I mean, at least if the whole world knows you broke up with someone you're allowed to be miserable. When it's all a secret, you have to pretend nothing's wrong.

"You said in your book..."

Jesse. Yeah. We're friends again now, not good friends but we're okay. It's real hard to be friends with the guy who broke your heart.

"Yeah." Sometimes Adam thought it would be easier on him not to be friends with Brad.

Time helps, I guess. You move on.

"I guess," Adam agreed, unconvinced. He hadn't been able to make it with Brad, he hadn't been able to keep Drake either, all those fans screaming and fainting over him thinking he was the best deal on earth and still he couldn't keep the guys he wanted. He just didn't seem to be any good at relationships. It was probably better to concentrate on his career right now. It wasn't exactly compatible with anything long-term. He said so.

It's okay. I'm not expecting us to be all hearts and flowers.

"Hey, I gave you flowers!"

That is true.

"Which is more than you ever did for me," Adam pointed out, relieved to be on easy ground again.

* * *

They talked, now. In bed, before Adam went off on his tour right after Christmas; and now that he was several states away, in late night phone conversations after Adam's shows. But sometimes Lance wished they hadn't. The conversation about being in love had set up a twisty ache around his heart. Even now, thinking about Jesse left him a little bit wrung, because it had been so perfect back then when he was innocent, and the memory of Jesse with someone else was still a pinprick of hurt. And now, he knew Adam was—even though they'd agreed, they weren't exclusive, it wasn't a betrayal, but. Lance was not good at casual.

And Adam was so sure what he wanted, and it didn't sound like Lance at all. Adam wanted a soulmate, someone who matched him all the way and shared his ideas and the way he looked at life. And Lance knew about Brad, Cheeks, whatever he was calling himself these days. He'd seen the videos; a beautiful, dark-eyed faerie boy, sharp and fascinating in a way Lance knew he himself could never be. Lance was a nice guy, he thought. He wondered if it would ever be enough.

Lance was also guiltily aware that hadn't been as honest with Adam as Adam had been with him. He hadn't admitted that he'd never quite loved Reichen—it would have seemed all kinds of wrong, when Reichen had been so good for him and he had been honestly happy while they were together. But Lance didn't want to be the shining one in a relationship, he was a backing singer by nature as well as by voice, he was a producer not a star, he wanted to have someone who needed him, someone he could support and cherish... and Reichen hadn't been good enough. How could he possibly admit that without sounding like, without being, all kinds of a jerk?

* * *

Lance wasn't home, and he wasn't answering his cellphone.

Of course there was no reason Lance shouldn't be out enjoying himself tonight. He wasn't scheduled for any appearances—Adam had a list of those so that he knew which nights not to call—but there was no reason at all why he shouldn't have gone out with friends. No reason at all.

Adam had been looking forward to the call. He had no show tonight, they'd arrived in Denver just before eight, he'd had dinner and gone back to his room. Touring was hard work. He didn't have the energy to spare for going out tonight, so he'd settled down alone on a hotel bed as broad and green as a sports field and made himself comfortable for a long conversation, and Lance was out, and not picking up his phone, and Adam did not want to think about what Lance might be doing because there was no reason, no reason at all why Lance should not go out and enjoy himself with other people. Adam could do that too. He was here overnight. He could go out, find a club, find someone. Have a good time.

He poked at his phone instead.

Hey, Adam! How're you doing?

"I'm good, I'm very good. How are you? How's Katy?"

We're great. Things are—man, do you ever get the feeling you're just having this really amazing dream and all the stuff that's happening to you isn't real?

"Is it still like a dream?"

Yeah, pretty much. I'm gonna be touring myself soon.

"Yeah? Fantastic!"

And I've been writing, and—you know, it's just. It's incredible. Still.

"It really is. But I bet it's a lot easier in dreams, right?"

That sounded heartfelt. Are you okay?

"Yeah, yeah, I'm great. Seriously, I couldn't wish for anything better than this. It's just—" he laughed, a bit self-conscious, "it's all happening so fast, it's like, when do I get to slow down? You know, take a breath, take it all in. It's a hell of a ride." Like being on a roller coaster for months.

I guess. So what's it like—is it harder touring on your own that it was doing the Idol tour?

"It's... I don't know that it's harder. It's different. In some ways it's easier, because it's my tour so everything's the way I want it. At least, as much as it can be. I have a rest night tonight and I'm sitting here in a hotel room that's twice the size of the apartment I was living in a year ago. And you know what? It doesn't even feel that weird."

We got used to luxury, didn't we.

"Yeah, luxury and no time to enjoy it. Which is kinda still true. You should see my tour bus!"

If it's better than the one we had...

"I don't have to sleep in a bunk, I have a big bed, not as big as the one I'm sitting on right now which I swear you could play baseball on, but it's nice. But you know, the pros are kinda the cons at the same time. It gets a bit lonely, touring by yourself."

I thought you were too busy to get lonely. And you must have plenty of people around.

"Once you're into the routine it gets easier. Okay, a little bit easier. But it would be kinda nice to have someone to talk to who wasn't working for me. Oh, God, that sounds terrible! Listen to me, I'm a diva."

It was so good to hear Kris's laughter. You just now realized?

"Hey!"

But you know, you don't have to be on your own. Get someone to ride along with you.

"I don't know... "

So how is Lance, anyway? There was a knowing tone in Kris's voice. Adam could just imagine his sly little grin. Not right there with you swinging a big ole baseball bat?

Adam broke into helpless laughter and collapsed backwards into the pillows. If he could find someone who made him laugh like Kris did... "No. Sadly, not," he said when he could speak.

But he's still around, yeah?

"Yeah, yeah. He's still around, he's fine. He's. He sent me the biggest damn flower basket I ever saw in my life." It had been waiting for him in his dressing room a few days ago—where was that, Portland?— taking up half the floor. With a little note attached to it that was just a smiley face with its tongue sticking out, and Lance's initials. "He does make me laugh," he said, surprised.

That's good, right? Unless it's the wrong kind of making you laugh.

"There's a wrong kind?"

If he dresses up in a gorilla suit and runs around the bed making monkey noises? I'd say that's the wrong kind.

"You know, I worry about Katy. She's such a sweet girl, and she's stuck with you, and you are a perverted little freak. No, Lance does not wear a gorilla suit."

Hey, I said it would be wrong, didn't I?

"I'm just disturbed that you thought it up at all," said Adam. Then something occurred to him. "He would if I asked him to." For a moment, he was tempted to make the request. Lance's face would be something to see.

O. Kay. Definitely heading into TMI territory there. So, red roses or thistles?

"What? Oh. No, not red roses. Yellow tulips, plus those lilies that look like angel trumpets." About a thousand of them. "It was a joke, really. Definitely not a red roses moment."

So do you think there's a red roses moment in your future?

"I... I'm not ready for anything serious right now." It was the wrong time. Touring, recording, when did he even have five minutes to make a relationship work, if he even could? And, with Lance? "Anyhow, you know we're still, we're really different."

But you get along pretty good.

"Yeah, we do." Not just in bed, either, Adam thought, although that surely didn't hurt. "But he's into producing and business stuff, that's what he does, and I'm a performer, I do the creative side, I just don't see how that can really work out. Not long term."

Uh huh. Right.

"Well, you know. I need to find someone who really fits with me, with the way I am."

Mmm. You do know Katy's in marketing, right?

Adam opened his mouth to say—something—and a strange noise came out so he closed it again. Kris's merriment resounded from the cellphone that was now on the floor. He picked it up. "Uh. I didn't mean. Do I have my foot stuck in my mouth here? Should I just chew on my toes for a while?"

No, man, but you know what? You could kick yourself in the ass a few times.

"I could do that, sure."

Adam, nobody's perfect. Not even—I mean, Katy snores. Oh, yes you do! Which one of us is asleep when you snore? It's really cute, these little tiny—ow! No, no, stop! There were some very strange noises. Adam waited patiently. If you can believe it, I'm not perfect either.

"Really? No! That can't be!"

I'm actually really ticklish. So you see... He turned serious again. Just—keep an open mind, y'know? If this thing with Lance is good, then it's good. So it's not what you expected. Life's full of surprises.

"That, I cannot deny."

So don't rule the guy out. See what happens.

After he put the phone down, Adam stretched out and stared at the ceiling. He'd have to think about that for a while.

* * *


Part Five