Damien, surprisingly, was on time. Lucas was five minutes early and he'd only been waiting for four minutes, flicking through some Economics notes, when he heard the familiar jingle of the door's bell. There he was. Silhouetted against the sunlight windows, hair tousled from his helmet, wearing a sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows to reveal toned, bronze-brown forearms. Lucas quickly glanced back to his notes.
"Did you finish the essay?"
"Yeah." Damien grinned, walking into the kitchen and pushing back his mess of dark curls. "All thanks to you, genius."
He smiled, right at Lucas, a confusing blend of teasing sincerity, and Lucas had to turn away. Not before he caught sight of that stupid dimple. A perfect little dip in his cheek, the kind of place you could press a kiss to.
Lucas fought the urge to bash himself over the head with the nearest rolling pin. That had been sappy and pathetic. Not to mention the fact it was about Damien. He vowed to stop all trains of thought like that before they left the station.
"Glad you've finally admitted I'm much smarter than you." Lucas said after a moment, hoping the pause hadn't been too long. All of a sudden, he felt a little awkward around Damien. Something had shifted. He was thankful for the notes, otherwise he wouldn't have known what to do with his hands.
"You're glad? Were you waiting for the day?" Damien rested both hands on the edge of the counter, leaning towards Lucas on the other side. "You just live for my approval, I see." His smile had shifted to something a little more wicked as he lowered his voice, although they seemed to be the only ones in the back. "Because I can definitely think of something you can do that I'd approve- ow!"
Lucas smacked him over the head with the sheaf of notes. "Stop it. Jesus Christ, Damien, it's not funny."
Damien had recoiled, rubbing his forehead but laughing loudly. "It definitely is. You should see your face, man."
"My face doesn't do anything." Lucas said, disproving his point by scowling fiercely at Damien.
He didn't like these games. He didn't know if it was because Damien was clearly toying with him, making fun of him, or if it was the heat under his skin when Damien used that voice. Either way, it was bad. He tugged on the collar of his shirt, trying very hard not to think of whatever Damien had been implying. It was only a joke, of course, but Lucas' imagination hadn't seemed to have gotten the memo. To dispel all images of dark bedrooms or Damien standing over him as he knelt between his legs, Lucas desperately looked for a distraction. He didn't know why his mind had taken him there, and he didn't want to find out.
He tried to keep his face neutral, normal, like it was every other week. Because it was. Damien was objectively attractive, and even though Lucas logically knew that he flirted with him as a joke, a small, hormonal part of his brain couldn't seem to tell the difference. Just stupid hormones, or something.
"Lucas?" Damien asked, waving a hand in front of his face. "You in there?"
Lucas shook his head, jerking himself back to reality. "Sorry, I was just so disgusted by the thought of doing anything with you that I had to take a minute. To stop myself from throwing up."
"Nobody else agrees with you on that. I'm very desirable, y'know."
"I've got no idea why."
"You sure? You looked pretty worked up–"
"Work. We have to work." Lucas said firmly, shutting down this stupid conversation before he lost control of it.
***
"And three of those, and maybe five- no, six of those..."
Lucas was working at the register that day, because Lisa had finally trusted Damien enough to let him bake with her in the back. A high honour, and one he was sure Damien wouldn't take seriously. But working at the register meant he could help Alex, who was currently considering her order with the intensity people usually reserved for monumental life decisions like getting married, not the number of caramel tarts needed to feed the cast and crew of a high school musical.
"Alex, you know employee discount means discount, right? You're not getting these for free." Lucas said, because the way Alex's order was looking, it wouldn't be cheap.
"I know, I know. I just want this to be good. Maybe if I pick the right kind of stuff, it'll make us all...magically get along, or something." She kept tugging at the end of her ponytail, a sure sign that she was stressed.
"Through the magic of pastries?" Lucas raised an eyebrow, but was careful not to make it too mocking.
Alex smiled. "Yeah, exactly! Like you know how every event in time creates a ripple effect, because that's how time works? Each tiny little decision ripples out, and makes really big things happen. So maybe, if I go...six custard eclairs, and only four of the tarts, then this'll ripple out, and it'll make our show really good."
Lucas couldn't hide his disbelief, but dutifully started fitting the pastries into boxes. "You're worrying too much. It'll–"
"Woah, hold on. Did I just hear Lucas Sawyer tell someone they were worrying too much?"
And before he could even turn around, Damien was at his side, leaning on the counter and looking at Lucas with exaggerated disbelief. "Christ, it's got to be bad if even you think it's too much."
Lucas tried to look annoyed, but it was strangely difficult to hold the expression. "It's rude to interrupt. And seriously, I'm not that bad."
"Oh, you definitely are." Seemingly perfectly comfortable with cutting into their conversation, Damien turned his gaze on Alex, flashing her the winning smile he gave all the pretty girls who walked into the bakery, the one that Lucas really didn't like. "It's Alice, right?"
Alex looked faintly amused. "Nope."
"Shit. Was I close?"
"It's Alex, so sort of. Points for trying."
"I'll have to make it up to you sometime." Damien was leaning over the counter towards her now, his curls doing that stupid thing they did where they'd fall over his face, as if they were inviting you to run your hands through them.
Lucas closed his eyes for a moment, and wondered what he had done to deserve the horror of listening to Damien hit on his best friend. Maybe if he left now, he could make it to the bathroom before he threw up. He almost made a move to go, turning towards the door to the back, but Damien automatically reached out to place a hand on the small of his back, keeping him in place. It was an effective technique, because even though the touch lasted only for a moment, Lucas had frozen in place.
"Anyway, what've you done? Because if you're so worried that even Lukie's telling you to chill, then it must be bad."
Lucas made a move to elbow him in the ribs, but it was too late. Alex's eyes had flicked to the hand at his back and to Lucas' expression, widened slightly at the nickname, and if it weren't for the chatter of the other customers Lucas was sure he would've heard the gears in her head turning. He'd never hear the end of this.
"I'm not that bad." He protested, feeling that Damien was being totally unfair.
"You are. It'd be cute if it wasn't bad for your blood pressure."
Alex's eyes were now flicking between the two, and if Lucas weren't so focused on the slightly lopsided twist of the smile Damien was giving him, he'd try and rectify the situation. It was obvious she was getting the wrong idea.
"It– no it wouldn't. Shut up." Lucas said, unable to come up with anything better. He was feeling that same, awkward, uncertain sort of feeling, and although he really wanted to say something funny or cutting, he couldn't seem to find the words.
Thankfully, before Damien could say anything else Lisa called him back into the kitchen. Leaving Alex and Lucas at the counter. Alex, who was wearing an unbearably knowing look on her face.
"Look, it's not what you think." Lucas began, because he knew that look all too well. He'd seen it when Mona had spent an entire afternoon talking about a girl in her Mathletes group in their junior year, or when he'd tried to explain to her that no, Billy Loomis wasn't the only reason he liked Scream.
"Really?" She was grinning now, an evil, wicked-witch grin. "Because I'm pretty sure I just saw you and Damien Castillo flirting. Am I wrong, Lukie?"
Lucas resisted the urge to sink to the wooden floor of the bakery. "Don't laugh. I know what it looks like, but–"
"But nothing. You've got a big fat crush on Damien Castillo, and he's into you."
"No, I– wait. He's what?"
"Into you, you idiot!" Alex said, too loud in her frustration. A couple of customers glanced over, and Lucas hurried to hush her. "Sorry. But it's so obvious it's actually sort of gross to watch you two. Seriously, neither of you are subtle."
This was all a lot for Lucas to process. It wasn't made easier by the strange, giddy, hopeful feeling Lucas could feel in his chest. "No he's not. You've met me, Alex. As if." He muttered, before this could get out of hand.
"Don't give me that." Alex said, frowning at him in concern. "You're smart, you're gorgeous, you're really funny in this dry, witty sort of way, and you're totally going to be a famous lawyer some day. Any guy would be lucky to have you, so don't you dare give me that shit. Damien called you cute, he has a dumb nickname for you, it's so obvious he's trying to get into your pants."
Lucas blinked. He hadn't been prepared for an aggressively motivational talk this afternoon, but here he was. He also wasn't prepared for the knowledge that Damien Castillo was interested in him at all. Sure, he'd half-hoped, half-dreaded the fact that they'd become friends, but this? This was ridiculous.
"I don't know, I think you're overreacting a little. You've met him twice, that's not enough times to gather any reliable data."
"Reliable data?" Alex looked at him in utter disbelief. "Reliable data? Are you kidding me?"
Before Lucas could tell her that no, he was not kidding, Damien had reappeared again with flour dusting his arms almost all the way up to his elbows.
"Sorry 'bout that, Lisa is really not happy with my kneading technique. Too aggressive, or something." He slung an arm around Lucas' shoulders, and turned back to Alex. "Anyway, the stress."
But before Alex could launch into an explanation of her theatre troubles, or, more worryingly, try and 'help' Lucas' love life (she'd tried before, it'd gone badly), they were interrupted by the bell over the door.
Mallory Montgomery, dressed in a flawless white and lavender outfit, had stepped into the store. Alongside her were four football guys Lucas didn't recognise, probably due to their Mountbank jackets, and there was a cold, empty space across his shoulders where Damien's arm had been.