Idol Love : After Hours

Chapter 11

Quick announcement:
I'm using this book as my term paper for my English class. Wish me luck!
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Lance finally made his way downstairs. He kept the ring near him or on him at all times. Holding it in the right front pocket of his pajama pants, he gently rubs his thumb over the jewel as he peers into the living room. He spots Keith, still on the couch, hair a mess, on his phone. After debating for a moment, he decides to approach him with caution. He doesn't wanna make matters worse between them but at the same time, he just wants to talk.

"Hey," Lance says with a small wave.

Keith jumps a bit, startled out of his own thoughts. He looks up at Lance who has made his way around the back of the couch and has sat down to Keith's left. The pair sit in silence for a moment, neither wanting to speak. Lance studies the side of his former fiance's face as he types away on his phone. Keith can feel him staring. Turning the device off, he gives the American his attention.

"Can you stop staring?" He asks.

"Oh," Lance adverts his gaze to the coffee table, "Sorry.."

Keith huffs and turns his phone back on. He types away as Lance steals glances. Feeling frustrated, Lance inches closer as his glances turn back into a stare. He finally breaks the silence, "Look, I know I messed up, but if you would just-"

Keith sends him a glare, "Save it."

"Keith," Lance continues to inch closer, "I'm trying to get better at this whole being public thing. I've never been in a serious enough relationship to even begin thinking about going public... Let alone been with a guy."

The other man shuts his phone off, and slams it into the couch cushion, frustrated, "Well, maybe you should've thought about that before you proposed on stage."

"You're right, I should've," He full-heartedly agrees with the other, "I really should've thought it through before putting it into motion, but I didn't."

Keith shakes his head and scoffs, "Like usual."

Lance is a bit insulted but otherwise, sound after that comment. No one knows him better than himself and Keith... and Hunk (probably). Resting his arms on his knees, Lance leans forward and sighs. Looking down at the soft light blue and white striped carpet, he continues to try and have a less tension-filled conversation, "Keith, I'm gonna call Hunk today and tell him to schedule the interviews for this week," Keith sends him a skeptical glance before he continues, "I know that you know how I'm feeling right now."

"Yeah," Keith nods slightly, "You're terrified."

"Yeah..." He pauses, looking straight ahead, towards the window covered wall, "I really am."

Keith goes back to his phone, ignoring Lance. The Popstar doesn't take too kindly to this but hides his anger the best he possibly can. He takes a slow measured breath and blows out the hot air. Calming down, Lance looks back up to Keith.

"Hey, if you aren't too busy ignoring me," Lance looks down to the floor, trying find the right words to say, "Would you please come to the interviews with me? They're for both of us after all.. And y'know I don't think us being publicly broken up after being engaged would sit well with the audience."

"So you want me to pretend?" Keith questions him, an eyebrow quirked.

Lance nods while saying, "No."

Sighing Keith turns to Lance for the first time in this whole conversation. He props his arm up on the back of the couch and rests his head on his hand. Looking Lance up and down before he speaks, "Always contradicting yourself," Pausing for a brief moment, Keith gives in, "Fine," He huffs, closing his eyes briefly, "I'll pretend that we're all fine and dandy. Like nothing ever happened," Lance lights up for a moment, clearly not expecting that answer. The other man notices the sudden surge of positivity and frowns, "This doesn't change anything, though. We're still not getting back together until you fix your act. Got it?"

"Yeah, I get it," Lance nods, leaning back into the couch. The pair stay in complete silence, an occasional notification popping up on Keith's phone causing it to ding. Finally, after a while of silence, The American breaks it, "Have you had breakfast yet?"

Keith's stomach growls in response.

"I'll take that as a no," Lance says, pushing himself off the couch. 

He offers Keith a hand to pull him off the couch as well. To which he gets a confused look, "What are you doing?"

"We can still be civil," Lance explains, "We don't have to hate each other and shun each other 'cause we broke up. Just being nice would be enough for me."

Keith quirks a brow and carefully takes the other's hand. He's hoisted onto his feet quickly, their bodies colliding momentarily. Their hands linger, neither really wanting to let go. They both slowly realize what they're doing and simultaneously let go.

Something that was so normal was such an awkward thing now. It seems bizarre and unnatural to be this close given the status of their relationship. But, given it hasn't even been 24 hours since the whole break up ordeal, it may not be so strange in hindsight. It's technically not even a breakup. Just a... break from each other. Okay, any way you look at it, it is, by textbook a 'breakup'.

They stand awkwardly, both waiting for the other to do something. An occasional glance or lingering stare turned into eye contact happening. Eventually, Keith takes the initiative. Clearing his throat, he goes back to the previous topic of conversation, "So, breakfast."

"Yeah, breakfast."