Prodigy

Fall For You

They stood in silence for a long time after Rich left.

The first sound came when Locke shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his jeans scraping against each other.

The sound was like thunder through the large apartment and snapped Zane back on a dime. He turned around and picked up his bag.

"I'll leave," he said simply, his voice low and rough, like he had just woken up. He got to the hall, just passed Locke, when he felt arms slide around him from behind, the side of Locke's face pressed against his shoulder and he dropped his head, closing his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Locke muttered into his jacket, "I'm sorry for whatever Rich said to you, and for whatever he did to you... and for what I said to you."

"It's alright," Zane said. He slid a hand between his waist and Locke's hands and Locke released his hands so fast they could have been spring loaded.

Startled, Zane stared down at his suddenly freed waist as cool air met the spot the arms had been. He then looked over his shoulder to see Locke walking to the drinks cabinet. He opened it and pulled out a bottle of vodka.

Without any apparent second thought, he untwisted the cap and put the mouth of the bottle to his lips, tipping his head back and knocking back a mouthful of the drink.

"Whoa, wait! Are you stupid? You can't just go drinking vodka like that," Zane snapped, racing across the room and grabbing the bottle, pulling it from Locke and snatching the cap back, screwing it back into place.

Locke looked at him the way a child would look at an adult who'd just taken his favourite teddy away.

"What? Don't give me that look. You're not even a legal age to drink," Zane said, shoving the bottle back into the cabinet and slamming the doors, locking them back up.

Locke snorted, rolling his eyes as he turned away, snatching up Zane's untouched water and taking a mouthful of that instead. "Please, how many people do you know our age that aren't drinking already?"

"I'm not."

"You're special."

"I'm not special, I just happen to mind the law," Zane said.

Locke dropped onto the sofa, stretching out his legs on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankle, draping his arms over the back of the couch and looking at Zane, his head tilted to the side. "No, I prefer the idea of you being special."

"You shouldn't expect so much of a person," Zane said, slipping his hands in his pockets.

"Why's that?"

"They let you down in the end. It's in the nature of humans."

Locke smiled. "Sounds like something I'd say. I didn't know you had such a bleak outlook on life - fascinating."

Zane looked at him for a while, leaning back against the window. Locke met his gaze with unwavering black coffee eyes and they just watched each other for a moment.

"Do you really think I'm fascinating?" Zane asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"Something Rich said."

Locke smiled, closing his eyes. "I think you're fascinating," he confirmed, tilting his head back, settling even further into the sofa. "I think you're fascinating and handsome and kind and strong and so completely different from the people I usually know."

"Jessica is all those things as well; couldn't you be fascinated with her?"

"Jessica is a lovely person, it's true. I've never met a fan before who just wanted to meet me for the sake of my music. But she's not fascinating in the right way."