* * *
Later, Ken stood back, and for once, he just watched at rehearsal instead of actively participating. He had a lot on his mind, a lot to think about, with the wedding and Justin and Aaron and it was all very confusing.
So where did all of that leave him, his fear, his nerves? Alone, certainly, though did he have to be? The problem was, he didn't know which way to jump. Trying to get with Aaron could be a hell of a bad idea, could lead to his heart, bruised as it already was, to get completely broken.
Was Justin any better? Justin, who was really too old for him, and who had already told him that he thought Ken was being an idiot? Sure, Justin seemed okay with making out with him, but Ken shouldn't fool himself that it meant anything at all.
His thoughts swirled around madly in his head, caught helplessly in some whirlwind, a tornado that existed only in his head. He stared at Lance and Jamie, a gentle wash of jealousy going through him as he saw how sweet they were together.
For the first time, though, he had to admit that Lance had never been his. Lance was the best friend that a guy could ask for, but that was all that he could ever be. Everything else was just fantasy on Ken’s part, and fantasy couldn’t last forever.
He had started the process of letting go back when he'd realized that Lance was falling in love with Jamie. That process ended now, and when Lance, seemingly feeling the weight of Ken's gaze on him, glanced up, Ken gave him a little smile and a wave. Things had been weird between them, and it had been entirely Ken's fault.
He could move on now. The thought was a bittersweet one, but mostly, it was a relief. He had known how hopeless it was for a while, and letting go just felt like a necessary step.
Lance waved back, an enquiring look on his face, but for the first time Ken actually thought that they would be okay. Like maybe they could go back to being the sort of friends they had been before Lance had fallen for Jamie.
Ken's gaze wandered on to where Aaron danced, all alone. The man was always alone—it seemed—unless he had to be with someone else. Once, Ken had thought that he should be the one to help Aaron with that, but did Aaron even want help?
There was something about Aaron that was almost sad. Something in his eyes, maybe, which had always made Ken think that Aaron would have a lot to offer someone who was patient enough to get past his prickly exterior.
He still felt that, but was he the one to try? Patience had never been a virtue of his.
Fear ran through his veins suddenly, like his blood had been replaced with nearly frozen water. In some ways, Aaron had been his last hope, and ...
... And nothing. Ken pushed away from the wall where he had been doing his uncharacteristic people watching and walked, eyes fixed determinedly on Aaron. He was standing on the brink of something, and at that moment, he made a conscious effort to turn away from it. To choose the safe path, though it was funny to think of going after Aaron as the safest thing to do.
It was familiar, anyway. So Ken went to him, giving him a friendly smile. This was hardly the first time that he had tried this, so the look of wariness that Aaron shot his way was not new, either.
"Hey," Ken greeted the other man, then gestured at him. "You working on something new?"
Aaron shrugged, looking at Ken with those strange eyes of his. Ken had never seen anyone else with eyes that exact color. No doubt, Aaron was as beautiful as ever.
So why wasn't he making Ken's hear race now? Where was the excitement? He had to reach for it and found it much less strong than he would have thought.
"Sort of. What do you want?"
It wasn’t that Aaron sounded exactly unfriendly. He just sounded brisk, to the point, like he assumed that if Ken was approaching him, it must be for a reason. Which made sense, Ken supposed. It wasn’t like they were on the sort of casual terms that would make it normal for Ken to approach him just to hang out.
“I had something I wanted to ask you,” Ken looked at Aaron, trying to read his impassive face. Trying to get even a hint of how this would be received. Try as he might, though, Aaron was a complete unknown to him.
How could he know this little about someone that he’d known for years now?
“If it’s about Lester, I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Aaron’s voice was quiet, now, pitched so that only Ken could hear it. The words were some of the last ones that Ken would have expected, though, and it took him a second to even catch up.
“Lester?” Ken echoed, staring stupidly at the other man. Aaron nodded shortly, then turned and started to stretch, long, slender body arching into some highly interesting shapes.
It should have meant more to Ken, but then again, he was probably just distracted by the seeming non sequitur that Aaron had tossed his way. After all, Aaron was just as gorgeous as ever, so why else would Ken find himself barely even able to acknowledge that beauty?
“Yeah. I think it’s a little weird, the whole us being out of money thing,” Aaron informed him, his face down at the level of his own ankle. The man was bendy as hell, it seemed. “Our concerts are all sold out, and everything I hear about our sales is good, too. So how are we losing money? The band is bigger than ever.”
Ken had finally caught up, as Aaron gave him what was probably the longest speech that he’d ever directed at Ken. He frowned, leaning against the wall, watching as Aaron’s body contorted itself. He moved with so much grace, but even in that grace he was intense. How did the guy even live like that? How did he not burn himself out on it?
“Yeah,” Ken admitted slowly. “I thought it was weird, too. He says that it’s because Justin …”
Aaron straightened up again, and there was a brief flash of annoyance on his face as he shook his head and interrupted Ken.
“Justin? Really? Lester is going to claim that the songwriter who helped to make us big is the reason we’re losing money?” Aaron frowned and arched up onto his tiptoes, stretching his arms way above his head. “I don’t believe it. Something else is going on.”
