Not Awkward

Lars straightened up loose papers and pens on his desk as he waited for his newest project to walk into the door. Although he had tried to hide it, his ability to produce music outside of metal had recently come to light, and so instead of allowing him to take on all of the companies metal musicians (of there were few to begin with), they had decided to instead allocate his time to musicians they were more interested in in the first place. Such as the talented young rapper they had decided Lars would be able to handle beautifully, or so they had told him.

Lars wasn't so sure; it was true he knew a lot about music and the like, but he knew very little about black culture or specifically rap. He was a white metal musician; how the hell was he supposed to know anything about that? The two groups didn't really overlap a lot.

He ran his fingers through his very long but thick blond hair as he tried to appear casual at his desk. He turned his back to the door briefly as he peered out the large window behind his desk. It overlooked multiple other office buildings, but they were too far to see clearly from his office. He inhaled and exhaled. It would go fine, he reassured himself as he heard the door open.

"Hey, so I was told I was s'posed to meet my manager here? Name's Zion Carter, with a Z." He held up his hands in the shape of a "z," just to make it extra clear.

"I'm the new rapper or whatever, ya know?"

Lars stands up and begins to walk around his desk to meet his new musician before he got a good look at him. He stared at the man in front of him, an awkward smile plastered on his face. The man in front of him had been underneath him just the night before.

No, no, it couldn't be; he had to be imagining things. He took another apprehensive step forward.

"My name's Lars. Lars Ragnar, from Carpathian Winter," He said slowly.

When Zion made eye contact with Lars, his heart dropped down into his stomach. His mouth hung open uselessly for a few minutes before he had the sense to close it--heavymetalcock74????

He cleared his throat.

"So, uh, I guess you's gonna be managing, and stuff, huh? Well since we met and shit, guess I'll be going."

Lars covered part of his face with his hand. This couldn't be happening. At least the other man's reaction proved that he really was the same guy he'd slept with not that long ago. Wrapping his head around the fact that he'd seen the dick of the guy he was supposed to be managing was a bit difficult.

"No, you're staying here. Close the door." He said quickly. Not that many people usually bothered him but he figured he didn't want anyone walking in on this awkward mess.

Zion awkwardly shut the door, wishing desperately that he could just run away instead. He toyed with his dreads, not meeting Lars's eyes even when he turned to face him. He felt a very strong urge to hide inside of his over-sized hoodie.

"...No really, man, I haven't had lunch yet or nothin'. I should really get out of here."

Lars took a seat back at the chair behind his desk, motioning for Zion to sit down at the chair across from him.

"Look. I don't want to have to talk about this either. Frankly, the only thing I want to discuss with you is the next night you're free," Lars grinned despite himself. "But, well...I'm...not exactly sure where to go with this discussion."

"...Am I gonna lose my contract?" Zion asked quietly, raising an eyebrow. "It's not my fault, okay? I thought you were just some random fucking dude, I didn't pick you on purpose--you could've mentioned you was somebody important."

"I don't think you sought me out on purpose to seduce me, although if that was your intention, you definitely did a fantastic job of it," he smiled almost a bit too gooey at Zion. He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. "I-in any case, no, you won't lose your contract. I'm not entirely a fan of keeping things discreet, but when it comes to my personal love life...well, it's for the better this time.

"I guess, the last thing I want to talk about is," Lars clicked his tongue. "if you want to continue our little affair."

"...Don't call it that," he mumbled, blood rushing to his cheeks and ears. "It was just...yaknow, fooling around and shit. And I don't know if you even understand this, but can't no one know I'm fucking..." He paused, biting his lip. "If my homes knew their boy was a fuckin' faggot, I'd be dead. Fuckin' worse than dead, nigga, I'd be over."

Lars was surprised for a moment at the amount of genuine fear in Zion's voice. He hadn't heard that kind of fear for a long time. He could never forget the sound that kind of fear made when it found its way into your throat.

"No, I....understand that notion very well," he admitted somewhat quietly. Lars was no longer afraid of being killed for being queer, but he certainly was afraid of the consequences of it on both his and Zion's careers.

"Well," he said after a short moment. "Then I'll leave it up to you."

He snorted loudly. "Up to me? As if I'd ever fucking out myself--if that shit's up to me, I ain't telling anybody. I die with this fucking secret."

Lars nodded and leaned back in his chair. He scratched his beard as he thought, making a rather peculiar face before he smiled.

"...well," he said finally, a mischievous look on his face. "If anyone ever found out about this, it'd be catastrophic. But, the truth is...I had a lot of fun with you. In fact, I haven't had this much fun in years. So, I'm gonna throw out a selfish option here." Lars leaned forward onto his desk. "We just...keep doing it behind the scenes, keep things professional at work, and no one finds out."

His cheeks grew even hotter, and he was glad Lars couldn't see it. "Wouldn't that be like...awkward, though? Like, isn't this kinda awkward now?" He scuffed the floor with his sneakers. It did sound awfully appealing...

Lars smiled softly.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, of course. It's merely an option. For the record...I think we can get over a tad of awkwardness at the work place when it means we get to fool around elsewhere," he replied with a more eager grin.

"Well...I guess you have more experience in this industry than I do," he admitted, shrugging. "If you say it won't be awkward and awful, I believe you. But don't fuckin' forget, okay--if anyone finds out, I'm dead. Deader than dead. Over. Fucked up the ass." He gestured wildly with his hands.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about being fucked up the ass after people find out," Lars grinned widely at him. "But, in any case, would you like to grab lunch with me? I'll introduce you to some of the other musicians and higher ups."

"That depends--you payin'?" he asked, only half-jokingly.

"Sure, but you'll owe me in return," he replied with a flirtacious wink. "Let's go."

"...If last time counts, you owe me," he mumbled quietly, eagerly heading for the door. He couldn't wait to get out of this office.

---

Lars hadn't intended for it to be a date, but it seemed like life was interested in conspiring against him today. After brief introductions everyone who had agreed to have lunch with he and Zion had babbled on about some prearrangement they really had to be getting to and promptly left.

Now, he and Zion were left seated across from each other at a fancy restaurant, with nothing but each other to keep them company.

Totally. Not. Awkward. Lars told himself, tucking his long hair behind one of his ears and fiddling with one of the many piercings he had. "So, Zion...how did you manage to impress my bosses enough to sign you on? We haven't been signing on a lot of new talent lately, so I'm rather impressed."

He raised his brow, crossing his arms. "I'm a fucking legend, that's how," he said pointedly. "God of the spoken word in the making. If niggas ain't watchin' out for me, that's their fuckin' mistake--your bosses were smart, that's why I'm here."

"If you're such a legend, why didn't I hear about you before a few days ago?" Lars teased gently as he pushed his hair off his shoulders.

"'Cuz you clearly got shit taste," he replied with a grin.

His smile faded when he glanced at the menu, however; were any of these names real words? Did aliens write this menu? He tilted it sideways, hoping that might help.

To be honest, Lars wasn't fond of gourmet food almost at all. He had grown up so poor that all he wanted to do was be able to afford food at all, and now that he could, he still didn't have a taste for expensive food. Sure, higher quality food maybe, but not ridiculously exorbitant food. However, due to working with people who did enjoy such foods, he knew his way around the menu better than most.

Hence, he immediately recognized Zion's confusion at the primarily French menu.

"Do you want some help...?" he inquired.