Everything was going fine, and then mothers happened. Mark and Jake are back, but so are Lance and O'Connor! Sequel to "Now See Here!", romantic comedy, M/M
A/N: Hi, and welcome to this SEQUEL to "Now See Here!" (you must read that first). My beta this time around as well is TheCookieMonster, and trust me, you wouldn't wanna read this without her help!
This story is from BOTH Mark's and Lance's POV's (though not describing the same events, of course!) as so many of you wanted a closer look at Lance/O'Connor and what might be happening between them… ;)
Updates are every Friday (Swedish time, might be morning, might be afternoon, it depends on if I work or not). This story is published on 3 sites: Wattpad, Fictionpress and AFF, so read it where you're most comfortable! J
Let's get started, then!
See if I Care!
Chapter 1: Dirty Looks
"Jake! Why the hell would you do something like this?" Mark shouted. It had been one month since their first night together. The Chief Financial Officer was staying at Mark's place more often than not, and the man was driving him up the wall sometimes.
"What?" Jake asked, coming out from the bathroom, by the sound of it.
"You used the butter knife for your damn peanut butter and put it back in the butter! Who does that?"
"One might argue that peanut butter is a kind of butter?" the man tried.
"One might not! And I hate that stuff! I can still taste it… yuck!"
"Well, that's very unpatriotic of you, I might have to call the authorities and have you deported."
"Yeah, right," the blond muttered and tried to get rid of the taste by downing a glass of milk.
"On the other hand…" the man was now right behind him. "Maybe I won't call, if you do me a favor?" he added in the deep voice which Mark knew he reserved for one thing and one thing only.
"Wait, you are turning you messing up into a sex thing?" he asked.
"It's Saturday morning, I'm horny, and I'm willing to turn anything into a 'sex thing'," his boyfriend chuckled.
"Didn't you have work to do?" Mark frowned, although it took some doing to keep the stern expression in place. "I know I do."
"Let's both not do it and punish each other for being naughty." The sentence was said in such a straight matter-of-fact voice that Mark completely lost it.
"Fine! Fine! We'll do whatever you want!" he laughed.
"Good."
"But first," he felt for the man's hand and then placed the butter knife in it. "Make me a sandwich."
_____________________________________________________
"Sanders' residence, Jake speaking,"
"You're hogging my best friend."
"That's only part of what I do to him. Hi, Lance, you want to speak to him, I guess?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"One moment."
"DON'T THROW THE PHONE!" Lance and Mark shouted in unison, and Jake sighed.
"I only did that once, you know…"
"Yes, and you killed the most important thing in my life," Mark said as he reached out for his new cell, which his boyfriend was handing to him.
"Whoa! It was only a phone, not a living thing!"
"Yeah... you're right. Sorry Felix, you're number one," Mark grinned.
"He's not even here, he's probably in the bedroom licking himself."
"Yes, well, he doesn't have anyone who does it for him, like I do," the blond snickered.
"Hey, can you two stop with the creepy foreplay?" Lance called out from the other end of the line.
"Oops, sorry. Hi, what's up?" Mark asked, turning his attention to his friend.
"Well, firstly I'm regretting calling…" Lance muttered, "And secondly; wanna hit the gym before dinner?"
"Yes! Well, no, but yes. I really need to. This 'couple-thing' and working on the game convention thing is not good for me. I need a real work out."
"Is Jake coming? It's okay if he is,"
"Jake needs to have quiet time and work on boring numbers," Mark told his friend. "Meet you outside the gym at three?"
"I'll be there. You'll recognize me. I'll be wearing blue."
"Idiot," Mark chuckled, and hung up.
"I'm not allowed to come?" Jake asked.
"Oh, you're allowed to come as much as you want," the younger man leered, "just not to the gym, no. We need some alone-time… that's okay, right?"
"Of course it is. I thought you needed to work, though?"
"Yes, but I can actually come up with ideas on the treadmill," the blond pointed out. "I can imagine you with your calculator and binders and laptop and stuff on one of those, running like crazy…" he snickered.
"That would get a bit complicated, yes," the man agreed and settled on the sofa Mark was curled up in. "Anything you'd like me to do while you're away? Or do you want me out of the house?"
"As if. I'm going to vacuum in two minutes but could you clean the bathroom, Mr. 'all men pee standing up'?"
"Yes. In a very manly way. And you are forgiven for not standing, after all, you might not hit the toilet at all…"
"Might hit something else," Mark muttered, then gasped and snickered as Jake suddenly pushed him down on his back.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have you make up to me for that comment," the man said seriously. "And it might take a while."
"You have permission to kiss me, but then I have to start cleaning if I'm going to be done in time for the gym."
"Just let me do it, then, I'll be quicker about it!"
"Yes, and you'll only clean where it looks dirty to you. You suck at vacuuming, excuse the pun."
"I'm willing to suck at other things too," the man purred.
"No, don't you dare!" Mark half laughed, half whined, and then his phone rang again. "Saved by the bell!"
"Or so you think," his boyfriend grinned and moved down to kiss his stomach. "It's your mother, by the way, at least according to the screen."
"I know it is by the ringtone," Mark snorted. "Hi mom, what's going on?"
"Nothing much dear, I'm practicing my reading and my fingertips are getting sore. How is your boyfriend treating you?"
"I'll put you on speaker so he can tell him himself."
"I'm treating him just fine, Mrs. Sanders," Jake claimed after hearing the question. "I'm going to have him vacuum the place in a moment, and then I'm sending him off to the gym to make sure he stays pretty for me."
"Don't listen to him, he's cleaning the bathroom," Mark snorted.
"He still won't sit down and pee?"
"You told your mother that?" Jake groaned.
"My boy tells me everything, don't you sweetie?" the woman giggled.
"Um. No. No, I don't. Trust me, I don't."
"No, that's right, Lance tells me the rest," Mrs. Sanders sighed. "But about what I actually wanted… Sunday dinner tomorrow is canceled. Your father has the sniffles, meaning he's working on his will."
"Oh, I'm sorry, tell him to feel better soon," Mark said.
"I will. Also, may I go through some of your boxes in the attic? I think you have some easy-to-read braille books there from your school days. I keep biting off more than I can chew and it makes me so frustrated."
"Of course, mom, no problem."
"So you don't have any secrets up there, then? Nothing you don't want me to find?"
"Ummm… no. Should be fine."
"If you find anything, I'm willing to offer a substantial amount of money for it," Jake said. "Might be good to have a little blackmail material on this one someday."
"Hmmm…" Mark's mother said.
"Why are you sounding like you're thinking it over?" her son growled as his boyfriend snickered and, after shuffling down a bit on the sofa, pushed up Mark's t-shirt. "What are you doing? No! Don’t you- AAAH!"
"Boys? What are you two up to?" Sarah asked.
"N-nothing! Nothing like that! He just blew a raspberry on my stomach, the bastard!" The words might be harsh but Mark was almost crying from laughter, as Jake had more or less pinned him and was continuing what he had started.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk… if your firm knew what their distinguished CFO acted like behind closed doors…" Mark's mother tutted.
"That's right, I'd better not leave any witnesses behind," Jake chuckled.
"Mom, I have to go," the blond gasped.
"Do. I'll go heat some chicken soup for your father, because he won't be up to having any fun with me today."
"Mom!"
"And by that I meant playing chess, dear."
"Oh. Good. Well, bye, love you."
"Love you too, sweetie. Take care of my boy, Jacob."
"Yes ma'am!" the man stated and, as Mark hung up, added; "She didn't mean chess."
"Yes she did, shut up."
"You're cute when you're delusional," the older man chuckled and caressed his cheek in a way which made Mark tilt his head back a little, knowing to expect a kiss. It was tricky making out when you couldn't see, but they had unconsciously come up with a very nice system of signals which almost always worked. At least they didn't knock their heads together as often anymore. That was something.
When the kiss grew a bit more intense, though, Mark pulled back. "Sorry, cleaning duties. I want to have tomorrow off, okay?"
"Yes, yes, I know," the dark-haired man sighed. "I need to get scrubbing too, then, if I'm going to have most of my work finished by the time you get home."
"I promise I won't distract you if you're not done," Mark said seriously.
"Oh, please distract me!"
"No. You get so grumpy when you're falling behind and have to work overtime or don't feel prepared. That pizza delivery man is afraid of you now."
"Well, then he shouldn't have short changed me."
"Not everyone is good at numbers," Mark pointed out, knowing he was quite dreadful himself. "Besides, thanks for understanding that I really need to prioritize cleaning the house right now."
"Of course."
"Yes, well… you kind need to get off me first."
"Ah. Noticed that, did you?"
"A bit."
"No stalling then?"
"No."
"None at all?"
"Jacob!"
"Okay, okay," the man stood up and pulled Mark to his feet as well. "I know you're serious when you use my given name."
"I'll have to remember that," Mark grinned. "Now to the bathroom with you, or I'm going to trip over you when I vacuum. Felix is bad enough."
"Felix is still busy licking his non-existent balls."
"Hm… maybe he still feels them? Like phantom pain?"
"And they itch? What a horrible thought… poor kitten."
"Well, it's no balls or the walls covered in cat pee, your choice."
"I think I'll go for the no balls option. For him. Not me."
"I think so as well. Go scrub!"
"Yes, Sir!"
_____________________________________________________
Lance heard his phone ring and hoisted his gym bag higher up on his shoulder so he could answer it.
"You better not be cancelling, Mark," he muttered before he saw the caller ID. "Damn. Hello, mommy, what's up?"
"Don't call me 'mommy', you're not a child!" the scratchy voice, ruined from years of smoking, on the other end of the line snapped.
"I apologize, mother. To what do I owe the honor of your call?"
"Always mister smarty-pants, aren't you? It's about your sister. She's pregnant."
"What, again? She just turned eighteen and Tony is barely one!"
"She needs your help!"
"She needs an abortion!"
"How dare you!"
"How dare I?" Lance drew a long, deep breath. "Mom, she's already been to rehab once, she doesn't have a job and that boyfriend of hers-"
"That's over. He said the new kid wasn't his and left."
"Well… is it?"
"Francine says she's pretty sure, that's should be enough for that schmuck!"
"She can't have another baby, social services already has an eye on them, they will take both the kids away!"
"She found a nice new apartment, if you could just-"
"No, mom!"
"You have the money! You should provide for your sister!"
"I'll pay her medical bill for the abortion, nothing else."
"How did I raise such a selfish, horrible son?!"
"Are you saying you're going to help babysit two kids, then?"
"I have other things going on!"
"Yes booze and bingo," Lance muttered. "Listen, talk to her, okay? She's not in a position to have another baby, you both have to understand that! If she finds a job I'll help with Tony's daycare, hell I'll even pick him up after work if she needs me to, okay, but it's only been a few months since she left the kid at your place and went out binge drinking and god knows what for four days!"
"All she needs is some money."
"Yes, well, when Tony was born that came out of my savings. I have a job, I'm not a millionaire! I'm not going to pay for anything if she keeps screwing up her life. In fact, if she does, I'll call social services myself! Call me when you've made that clear to her!" Lance snapped, and hung up, just as he rounded the corner and saw Mark waiting for him outside the gym.
"Mark!" he called out, forcing himself to sound like his usual, gleeful self.
"Hi you, nice timing, I just got here," his friend said and smiled one of those brilliant smiles of his. "So what's up?"
"Nothing much, let's go make the gym jealous of our amazing bods, shall we?"
"Well… we can try…" the blond snickered.
Lance mulled the phone call with his mother over while working out, thankful that the situation didn't exactly call for small talk. After showering Mark suggested that they go get coffee, though, and soon the blond was frowning slightly.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, sure it is." Lance shrugged.
"Nope. Something is up. Your voice sounds strained. Either something happened or you're about to have explosive diarrhea. Spill. Well... not if it's the last thing."
"Nah, it's nothing, just my mother getting me in a bad mood again."
"Oh. Sorry." Mark looked uncomfortable, and Lance couldn't help but grin. He knew his friend didn't like his mother. They had only met a few times, but Mark was a fairly good judge of character. He was also so well raised that he wouldn't dream of saying anything or acting less than perfectly polite to the lady. He still didn't realize, however, that his facial expressions often gave him away, and he might as well have said 'Your mother? Yuck!'.
"Yeah, well... she was just being her normal, charming self..."
"Yeah... um... but I'm glad. Well, no, that sounded wrong," the blind man squirmed a bit in his seat. "I just meant that- Well, I was afraid that you were upset about... us?"
"Yes, well, I am. I fully expect you to dump Jake and get back together with me stat," Lance chuckled.
"I would, but there would be so little sex!" Mark complained with a grin.
"Yup. Sorry, not touching your nasty dangling parts, and your boobs are too small," the brunette snickered, making his friend huff.
"Nothing nasty about my parts!" he said. "But about Jake and I− I'm sorry we've been kind of cooped up. We'll hang out more again from now on!"
"It's perfectly normal, it's not like I haven't ditched you for a hot chick now and then."
"Yeah, but your relationships usually just last a night," Mark smirked. The smirk slipped a little, however, when he didn't hear the laugh he was expecting in return."Oh. I'm sorry! That was rude!"
"It was the truth." Lance sighed a little, shook his head and then finally chuckled a bit. "I thought I'd be at least forty before I got jealous of someone being in a relationship."
"I'm sorry."
"For what? Being happy? Yes, damn you!" Lancelot snorted. "I'm happy for you, you idiot!"
"Thanks. It's only been a month, though, I'm sure Jake will dump me and I'll be back on the market soon enough."
"Then I might need to hurt him quite badly."
"Aw, that's sweet!"
"Anything for my if-I-was-gay boyfriend."
"Um... speaking about that, have you talked to O'Connor lately?"
"Yeah, just the other day, actually. Had to ask him how to beat level three in Headshot Two, it was driving me insane. Oh, and he's not my boyfriend!"
"I think you look cute together!"
"You're blind!"
"Pft, you should totally go gay for him, he likes you."
"Yes, let me change my sexual orientation based on the fact that someone likes me. Wait... you did, right?"
"Unfair! I was never straight! Well... not very. Maybe."
"Still, I'm not. Plenty of girls like me too."
"Yes, dear," Mark laughed. "But yeah, about O'Connor, I was thinking about a double date one night next week. But I guess we better make it a triple date, then? Me and Jake, and you two with your own dates?"
"Would be a tiny bit awkward otherwise, yes. Are you saying you're going to unchain him from his company and the convention-preparations? I heard you're driving them pretty hard?"
"Ha! If they have the energy to complain I'm not working them hard enough," Mark growled. "They say that they are ready to grow, to expand, but they don't seem to realize that they should have a solid marketing plan first and not just go about things willy-nilly."
"First they should fire the copywriter who uses the words 'willy-nilly'," Lance suggested.
"Very funny."
"I know."
"Prat. Anyway, are you up for it? Just a dinner or something, maybe? Just to get out a bit."
"Sounds great to me! Hey, I know; there's a small Greek restaurant which has opened just around the corner from me, why don't we have drinks at my place first and then go eat, and then maybe go to a club or something? Didn't Jake take you to a quieter one once?"
"Yeah, we've been there a few times, but you know it's a gay club, right?"
"So what? Chicks love that stuff, and it shows that I'm open and shit," Lance shrugged.
"Girls love that you have no problem with the thought of two men going at it?"
"Yup. Trust me."
"Women are weird."
"Yeah, because tell them that you like two girls going at it and all hell breaks loose."
"Really?"
"Women turn double standards into an art."
_____________________________________________________
"Honey, I'm home!"
"Hm? Oh, had a good time?"
Mark smiled when he heard Jake's voice, or rather the tone of it. He was working, and when he worked, nothing but numbers and budgets existed in his world. "Yeah, it was fine," he just answered and didn't get a reaction, but he would have bet good money on that Jake had forgotten himself again and just nodded, staring at the screen of his laptop or at the papers in some binder.
Mark sat down in front of his computer to do some work of his own, and got equally lost in the process. It wasn't until Felix jumped up into his lap, scaring the living crap out of him, that he realized that it was dinner time.
"Jake?"
"Hm?"
Still occupied with work. "I'm gonna make some dinner, is poached skunk okay?"
"Hmm? Yeah, anything's nice. What?" the man asked when the younger started laughing.
"Nothing. I'm gonna heat some soup or something."
"Oh, it's dinner time?"
Mark sighed and shook his head as he turned towards the kitchen, hoping to find something edible. Preferably something that didn't taste of peanut butter.
Twenty minutes later they sat down to something heated, which smelled okay but still made Mark think he should have done better. Apparently Jake was thinking along the same lines, because the blond heard him sigh a little before saying: "Well, even with your dad sick, maybe your mom can come over and cook for us tomorrow, what do you think?"
"Hey, watch it!"
"I'm just going to miss Sunday dinner, that's all. It's strange how these things become a habit so quickly."
"She puts something in the gravy, I'm almost certain," Mark grinned.
"Like ma and her cookies. Um... speaking of which..."
"You want cookies?"
"No... she's... coming here."
Mark almost choked on his mouthful, and had to slap his own chest as he coughed. "Here? From Chicago?"
"Yes. She wants to meet you, but we are both too busy for the trip, so..."
"When? And... can she come here? I know she has some... issues?"
"She has a bit of a panic disorder and such, yeah, but she goes through better and worse times and she's pretty good now, at least she says she is. She still might not get on the plane, though, there are no guarantees."
"Um... and when did you say...?"
"Maybe in a week or two."
"Oh, god."
"Don't look so terrified," Jake chuckled.
"Easy for you to say."
"It is. I meet your parents all the time, remember?"
"Yes but they are... you know... my mom and dad."
"And that made perfect sense."
"Sorry. So. Is she going to stay here?"
"No, I'll put her up at my place. Let's not make things more complicated than they are. And I promise not to leave you alone with her in the beginning, okay?"
"Okay, now you just made her sound like she might attack me or something. You're sure she's okay with me? I mean... being...?"
"Blind?"
"A man, idiot!"
"Oh. Oh, yes, that's not an issue, although-" Mark could hear that Jake cut himself off pretty suddenly, which made him suspicious.
"Although?"
"Well... you're the first boyfriend she gets to meet. Officially."
"Shit."
"And now you've gone all pale again. Why don't you go lie down?"
"Aw, that's nice. So you'll do the dishes?"
"Ooor... I could lie down with you?"
"Dishes sound better," Mark grinned.
"Are you trying to make me break up with you before my ma gets here?"
"No," Mark sighed. "It would be the smartest thing to do, but I'd miss you too much. And I'd have to do the dishes alone."
"Grab a towel, blondie," he was ordered with a snort.
_____________________________________________________
Monday came around as it had a bad habit of doing after the weekend. Lance had spent his Sunday playing a new game he had borrowed from O'Connor. He hadn't dressed all day, preferring to walk around his apartment in raggedy underwear. He had a nice place, he had to admit. Not terribly expensive or well kept, no, but he had decorated it with modern furniture, artsy pictures on the wall and a lot of technology. Lance might be an accountant but he loathed the idea of being boring. Between parties, dating and hanging out with Mark −who lived within walking distance, even though it took about twenty minutes to get there− Lance loved kicking back with a good game or three. He tended to buy the latest consoles too, if he had the money, although his collection was nothing compared to O'Connor's. Lance drooled a bit when he thought of it. The geeky redhead had a whole room full with just vintage stuff, things Lance had never seen or even heard of. He'd love to spend a few nights there, trying everything out, but... it was a bit weird without Mark, wasn't it? And it wasn't like his blind friend wouldn't get bored within five minutes even though he would pretend that he wasn't. Well, the 'triple date' they had talked about was coming up, maybe he could set a 'play date' with the guy then? No homo! Lance snickered at himself. He just couldn't help but feel just a little awkward about it all. The flirting had been hilarious, but the half-drunken kiss had just been... he wanted to say 'too much', but what popped into his head was 'too nice'.
Lance snorted as he headed for the elevator at work. He had his sexuality figured out. Chicks were hot, dicks were not. Easy. He spotted Jake and Mark and called out for them to hold the elevator.
"Morning, Lance!" Mark beamed. The brunet had to admit that his friend was cute as hell, and if he had been gay... oh well. The happy couple seemed happy as always, but after the conversation with his mother the other day Lance had something a bit unsettling in mind.
"Morning. Um... Mr. Barlow?"
"I'm Mr. Barlow now?" Jake asked, raising a well groomed eyebrow.
"Yes, well... It's a work thing. I was wondering who will get promoted now, after Oaks resigns?"
"It isn't really my area, even though I might be asked for an opinion-" Jake started.
"No, I didn't mean-" Lance cut him off, hating himself for not taking this up with his closest boss instead and not the head of the whole department.
"Good. Because I can't. I like you, Lance, but you're fairly new, after all. There will be quite a few people up for promotion before you are."
"I know, I just- Well, it can't hurt to know a bit more about the inside workings of the department, you know." Lance shrugged and grinned, like it all had been a joke. He happened to glance over at Mark, who had a look of worry and bewilderment plastered on his too-open face. Shit. That meant questions and prodding and-
"Are you okay, Lance?"
And there it began.
"Yeah, really, I was just curious! There's a lot of gossip going around."
"Oh. Okay." Mark didn't seem convinced but the brunet thought it was a believable lie.
"You're a good employee, you'll climb the ladder soon enough," Jake said.
Lance growled on the inside. Couldn't the man just let it go?
"Thanks, I'm trying to be a good little grunt," he muttered.
"If you're unhappy with-"
"No! Forget it, you just misunderstood why I asked. Excuse me-" he said as the elevator doors finally opened. "I'm in a hurry."
"But-" Mark called out behind him. "This is my floor!"
"The coffee is better down here," Jake said as he headed out of sight, his cheeks burning a little.
"Lost, Lancelot?" a snide voice asked when he hurried down the hall.
"Shut up, Peter," Lance hissed and carried on.
_____________________________________________________
"Something is wrong, he's acting weird," Mark mumbled to Jake as they said goodbye before the CFO continued up to his floor.
"Maybe it was only curiosity?" the man said.
"No... I think it was something else."
"Maybe-"
Mark noticed that Jake cut himself off, and frowned. "What?"
"Maybe we should talk about this later, at home."
"No. Now."
"Well... what if... I mean, it doesn't at all seem like Lance, but what if he is a little jealous of your promotion? I mean, I didn't make it happen −it never would have if you hadn't been good enough to be on Langley's team− but I made a few suggestions... maybe he thought I could, or should, do the same for him?"
"You really don't know Lance," Mark said darkly. "He's not like that."
"People change when they get older. They get other goals. They suddenly think they want or need other things... has he never been interested in the career ladder?"
"Oh, he's interested in that, alright. He's planning on making a lot of money while he's still young enough to enjoy it, as he likes to say, but not like that. No."
"You're probably right, you know him best. So, I need to head to a meeting. Kiss for good luck?"
"Do you need it?"
"Hardly, I'll kill in there today, but still?"
Mark grinned and tilted his head up. "Fine. Because you begged."
"I'll show you what begging is tonight, pooch," the man whispered before his lips touched Mark's. He then continued up to his own floor, leaving the blushing blond behind.
To be continued…
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A/N: There! First chap! Hope you liked it! See you next Friday!