Dyed in Your Color

Lunch (Play) Date

“You’re eating it…” Xian mumbled, his tone full of wonder. In his eyes was amazement, but the small part of his brain that was still functioning told him that he was actually feeling spellbound. He watched further as Lance finished chewing and swallowed, and he caught the way his throat moved and his prominent Adam’s apple bobbed. “You ate it…”

Looking unmistakeably disgruntled, Lance looked up from his bowl of rice right as Xian was also tearing his gaze off of Lance’s mouth. Xian then summoned a condescending smile.

“Good job, Little Lance,” he said brightly, as if he was talking to a child. He tried to pull his hand from Lance’s hold, but Lance reflexively tightened his grip.

“Don’t want another,” said Lance, rightly guessing what Xian had intended to do.

Chuckling, Xian told him, “Sorry, sorry, I’m not giving you another one. Let’s just eat, all right?”

Despite this reassurance, Lance still refused to release Xian’s hand. In fact, so minutely that it almost couldn’t be felt, his hold tightened even further.

But with his heightened senses, Xian felt it.

“Come on, Lance, what did broccoli even do to you? I said I won’t give you any more. You can relax.”

With those words, the look of put-on patience was back in Lance’s face. He made sure Xian saw it before finally letting go of his hand—but slowly, with his fingertips sliding across the back of it.

Xian felt that as well. He had to put in all his effort to stop himself from shivering.

In silence, they began eating.

Xian wasn’t completely stupid and clueless. If all of Lance’s words and actions had come from someone else—anyone else—Xian would eventually come to suspect that those were signs of interest.

Whether or not that “interest” was romantic in nature might still depend on the person, but in general, he would at least think that that person was drawn to him and wanted him to feel the same way.

Given what Xian knew of Lance’s past, however, he couldn’t bring himself to assume that things were that simple.

Between the two of them, “clueless” would more closely describe Lance. While Xian simply didn’t care much about crossing physical boundaries when it came to family and friends, Lance might not be aware that most people would still typically respect that—regardless of how close they were with the other person and especially if they'd only just met.

Hence, the likeliest explanation Xian could come up with was that Lance, being inexperienced in friendship, was taking his cues from him.

And hence, no matter what, he mustn’t allow himself to read any deeper into anything.

Some time later, Xian leaned back in his chair, his belly slightly protruding under his shirt.

“That was really good,” he said. Before him were empty plates and bowls, some of which had contained second or third servings. “They must have been cooked by master chefs. I count this as you having treated me, Lance.”

Immediately, Lance replied, “Doesn’t count.”

Xian laughed quietly through his nose. "Then let’s do this a second time and leave it at that.” When Lance looked like he still wanted to argue, Xian continued, “And after, let’s eat out again and go Dutch. You can pick the place.”

With the promise that they can eat more meals together in the future, Lance finally nodded. He then began to stand up, intending to start clearing the table.

“Wait, let’s do that later,” Xian said hurriedly. “I’ll help, but I can’t move just yet.”

For a moment, Lance looked like he wanted to say, “You don’t have to help.” Seeing Xian’s frown of suspicion and displeasure, he settled in his seat again.

Xian grinned. “Not gonna argue?”

Lance answered simply, “No point.”

“Hahaha!” laughed Xian while clutching his distended stomach. Even that much made it hurt. “It’s no fun when you adapt too quickly.”

In response, Lance merely smiled. Despite what Xian had already told himself, his breath stopped a bit at the beautiful sight.

“Say… Lance…” Xian began. He had so many things he wanted to ask about and clarify. He himself didn’t know just which of them he wanted to address first at this moment, but in the end, with Lance looking expectantly at him, he decided against any of them. “You and my big sis know each other from your clubs, right?”

After a brief pause, Lance nodded. Xian tilted his head to one side.

“The film club frequently partners with the theater club, but I don’t see you as someone who’d join that, so… the writing club?”

Lance shook his head, making Xian frown.

“The art club, then? They’d sometimes make the props or do set design…”

While Xian was still speaking, Lance was already shaking his head again.

Xian’s frown deepened. “Then…?”

“I’m a member of the theater club,” said Lance, finally answering out loud.

Xian’s jaw dropped. “… As a stagehand…?”

Somewhat looking amused now, Lance was back to shaking his head.

“Then…?”

“If I said I was recruited as an actor for my looks, would it make more sense?”

For a while, Xian was opening and closing his mouth but was unable to say anything.

His first impulse had been to say, “But that’s rude!”

Upon following that line of thought further, he quickly realized that he was being rude as well. Just because Lance was socially withdrawn and seemed unemotional, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t know how to act.

Once more, Xian found himself groaning and covering his face with both his hands. “Sorry, Lance…” he mumbled.

He then heard Lance make that soft laughing-once-through-his-nose sound again. He peeked between his fingers at him.

“I’m not angry,” Lance said.

Slowly, Xian lowered his hands though he still looked contrite. “Anyway,” he said, “this is a… coincidence.” All of a sudden, his expression became serious as he objectively evaluated Lance’s appearance. He was quick about it and was soon shaking his head. “No, you don’t fit.”

Lance looked at him, a question in his eyes.

“Oh, sorry. You also know about the problem with the main character’s casting, right? I just thought… with your looks… but no, there’s no softness in you now, is there? Anyway, my big sis asked me to audition for it.”

At this time, Xian still had not realized that he had accidentally let something slip about what he knew of Lance’s past.

It was not much, and if Lance had caught it, he might simply write it off as Xian recalling how he looked a couple of years ago, before his face and body had finished maturing.

Indeed, Lance didn’t show any indication that he had caught any significance in that word “now.” He seemed to be concerned about something else.

“Did you agree?” asked Lance.

“Did you read the script?” Xian asked back.

“… Yes.”

Xian smiled. “So did I. How could I say no to that role? If no one else suitable is willing to play it, I will.”

Hidden under the table, on top of his lap, Lance’s hands clenched into fists due to strong emotions he couldn’t otherwise control.

But in his expression, all that showed were polite interest and a hint of pleasure.