Now See Here! (m/m)

“Would I have had that cast on my leg for six weeks?”

“Well, I drew really neat things on it, so…”

“I know. My mom had to cover it up when grandma came by.”

“Your grandma was a great lady, but she was too damn sensitive about things…”

“Like lewd porn graffiti?”

“Is there any other kind?” Lance asked innocently.

“Boys…” Meg muttered and, by the way her large earrings jingled, Mark could tell that she was shaking her head as she walked away, opting to have her coffee in a somewhat less raunchy environment.

Mark snickered. Very few people really understood his and Lance's relationship. They had met on the first day of school and, in an almost cliché like manner, become friends at once. Mark's parents had sent him to a school for seeing children, and, with a bit of extra help, mostly consisting of technical aids, he had done very well. Lance, who described himself as 'stunningly handsome', but others portrayed as 'light brown messy hair, blue eyes, nice looking, great smile', had been by his side ever since. They shared a room at university, though they took different classes, and now, not even a year after graduating, they had even ended up at the same ad firm, but that had been a fluke. The company had recently expanded, hiring a lot of people at once and they had both applied without the other one knowing about it. Lance was at the economic department while Mark was in the ad-department, working as a copywriter.

As the firm specialized in other companies' images more than products, Mark seldom felt that his blindness was a disability in his job, quite the opposite; he had been promoted quickly for his unique way of getting the right emotions across without unnecessary embellishment. That meant he, in cooperation with a team, already had several clients of his own, instead of just assisting a senior staff member. Some people, like Peter, didn't like that and suggested that he was mollycoddled because of his handicap. That didn't bother Mark too much, however; he had his work and his client's appreciation as proof after all, and most of them didn't even know that he was blind, as a large amount of business was conducted over the phone or mail.

"So what are you doing after work?" his friend asked.

"I'm going down to the gym for an hour," Mark answered, with enthusiasm in his voice. He liked the company gym. It wasn't big but well organized and very few people actually used it, so it was rarely crowded; other than right after New Years. "Do you want to come?"

"No way. Why don't you come running with me in Central Park tomorrow instead?"

"Because when I do, you end up looking at boobs and I end up running into lamp posts."

"That happened once!"

"Twice."

"Okay, twice, but maaan… if you ever get the chance to see one more thing; pick boobs."

"I'll remember that when I meet a genie…" Mark chuckled. "Besides, I remember what boobs look like. I might have been five, but I remember."

"Good."

"Lumpy bits under shirts, right?"

"You blasphemous little…" his friend growled.

"I've felt some too, you know," Mark smirked.

"Hugs don't count!"

"Well, there was Annie, in high school, and…"

"That was a pity-date."

"Lance!"

"On your part, of course! She had this weird hair…"

"Yeah, because I would care about that…"