Damn Implications

…we are different colors, let's see if you look good on me…

"But I see your true colors."

Damian isn't singing to him. He isn't.

Not that Cameron would know anyway, because he's not watching Damian, circling around him with a careful distance, the way he was taught at school, maintaining a perfect radius. He hasn't even been talking to Damian since, well.

And Damian has no reason to sing to him, not something like this.

He hasn't been avoiding Damian. He sleeps just fine at night. He and his girlfriend talk almost every other day. Because he misses her.

This week's challenge: Believability

Cameron turns his back on the word, certain for once. Damn it all and the implications.

He's an excellent liar. Especially to himself.

It's late, but the three of them are too nervous to go to sleep, tomorrow already looming. Instead, they sit on their respective beds and guess at who the guest judge will be. It's mostly Samuel and him talking.

Damian listens, picking at his bed covers where Cameron would usually be sitting, looking lost.

So far, he's been not thinking about it pretty well.

Samuel eventually turns to Damian and asks, "And you? What'd you think?"

Damian answers without hesitating, without looking up.

"Kurt."

Without meaning to, the word slips from his mouth: "Why?"

Damian looks at him.

It's already dark, long shadowy fingers stretching up along the walls and across the wrinkled bed sheets but the anger is bright and burning, making his eyes more gray than blue. Cameron doesn't flinch back. He doesn't.

"Because Kurt is honest and open and wears his heart on his sleeve," Damian doesn't break eye contact and he can't remember how, "When you watch what he's going through you believe it."

Can rubber bands crack?

Cameron looks away.

He goes to sleep and dreams about his girlfriend, okay?

Damian is right.

Lindsay almost faints, swooning with a perfect flip of her long hair, and if Alex was still here there is no doubt he would have. But he isn't because Damian dug his fingernails into Cameron's shirt and didn't let him go.

Because that's what friends do for each other.

Damian smirks at him, eyebrows wiggling in that told-you-so way, and Cameron completely forgets for a sweetly savored moment who he is supposed to be and just smiles back. It's simple. Easy.

He hasn't heard Damian laugh in way too long.

It loosens something. Like oxygen when he didn't know he was holding his breath.

Chris Colfer stands tall and proud before them with his gelled hair and leather pants.

"Being a good actor is about finding something inside of you that relates to what you're suppose to portray. You're not attracted to your fellow actor? Think of your very first crush. Channel that feeling."

He pauses dramatically, enjoying the theatrics.

"Now… impress me."

Colfer grins at them to soften the command.

They jump out of their seats, drawn to the piano. Cameron goes to the opposite side that Damian does, trying to space the group out more evenly. He thinks of details like that sometimes, you know.

The song opens and Lindsay advances on Damian, singing at him full force, all seductive, long eyelashes fluttering.

Sexuality was last week, he thinks, a bit bitterly.

It's just habit now, the jealousy.

Damian gives her one of his charming, toothy smiles. The bright white one he uses when he's pretending a little too hard.

Not that Cameron is really watching them. Or anything.

Especially when it's Damian's turn. Especially when Damian looks past, over Lindsay's half-closed eyes, and stares directly at him and sings.

"Oh, I realize that it's hard to take courage."

And, god, Damian's not allowed to look at him like that. To take these words and make them mean something that never happened. That never will.

"In a world full of people you can feel so small."

He's not allowed to look so raw and vulnerable like he means it. Like what never happened between them could work. Like maybe these snatched in-between moments could string together into a story, one with a happy ending.

Never. It can't.

And yet, Damian must be a better liar than him because Cameron can't turn away, even when the other boy finishes and it's his turn to pretend.

Instead, he doesn't.

"Show me a smile then," He sings, begs, "Don't be unhappy."

There's more. Lyrics tossed back and forth like a conversation, the one that they can't actually have out loud, words that could never make it past trembling lips otherwise. They try their best to look away from each other, then don't.

It's a strange little dance they do around the piano; each step matching the other so that they end almost exactly the way they started. Opposite sides, grinning.

But this time it's believable.

"Really, all of you did amazingly," Colfer's face is bright and earnest, "But Damian… it felt like you pouring your soul into that song. You win."

Damian's face lights up, beaming with real surprise and delight.

He's the only one who's surprised.

"And this week you're going to be singing duets again."

The five of them glance around uncertainly, unsure of how this will play out. Avoiding eye-contact, they mentally pray for their partners, faces set with concentration. Cameron crosses his fingers and tries not to think about it.

He gives himself points for effort.

"Damian, since you're the winner, you get to pick two people to work with."

He has barely finished his sentence before Damian blurts—

"Cameron. I pick Cameron."

Cameron grins back nonchalantly and high-fives Damian. Their hands linger just a second longer than is absolutely necessary. Cameron wonders if his relaxed smile passes the test.

It feels too tight, wanting to burst at the seams.

There's a pause as Damian realizes that he has to pick someone else. He glances between Hannah and Lindsay awkwardly, both of whom straighten eagerly.

Cameron tries not to glare too obviously at Lindsay, at her perfect lipstick, the long tumbling curls. He doesn't feel threatened by her, why would he? He just doesn't want her surprising him with another one of her infamous kisses.

Or surprising Damian.

No, he doesn't have possession issues.

Yes, he feels perfectly all right.

Damian turns to Hannah, and the discontent rolling around in his stomach is probably just hunger anyway.

"Do-"

"Sure."

Cameron faked calm better.

"Hey baby."

He clutches the phone and tries to ignore the camera moving in his direction. Tries to ignore the Irish boy watching him from across the room. Tries really hard to ignore the hand resting on Lindsay's lower back.

If he concentrates really hard he can convince himself he actually care.

They must smell weakness; the lens zooms on his face.

Across the room, off-screen, Damian leans in close and whispers something in Lindsay's ear with those curving lips of his. She blushes. Cameron grips the phone harder and keeps his smile firmly in place.

He can do this, damn it.

Damian, still leaning forward, mouth still too close to Lindsay's earlobe, glances sideways. A clash of mischievous blue and jealous brown.

"Cameron? Hello, are you still there?"

Locked stares across the room. His girlfriend's soft voice unusually sharp with annoyance. Cameron tries, really, but he can't look away.

"Well, I know you have to practice and rest your voice so I won't keep you, Cammy. We're so proud of you. I love you."

"Yeah. Same."

Don't believe him?

Well, blame it on Damian. His hand slips a little lower, no longer so innocent; eyes on Cameron.

A challenge.

Well, like he said, two can play the game.

"Hey Hannah."

She looks up from her magazine, surprised. He can't quite read the title and she tucks it away quickly before he can get more then a quick look but the bold headline reads New Weight Watching Secrets!

Instantly, he feels guilty. He's kind of been an asshole.

"Cameron. Hey."

Cameron grimaces at the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. Well, it's not like it's undeserved.

"I-Um, I just wanted to apologize for last week," he falters, he's always been bad at these things, not for lack of practice, he doesn't mean to hurt people but somehow he keeps tripping over his own tongue, "I mean, it's really not that I don't like you or anything but, well, you know I'm a little insecure with... sex things."

He smiles at her shyly. Believably.

Oh, is Damian watching? Really, he had no idea.

And they said he couldn't be an actor.

Hannah blushes and immediately tries to comfort him. She deflects her pleased awkwardness with a terrible Australian accent, babbling about kolas and zookeepers. His accent is even worse, more Irish then Australian anyway, and offers her his arm with a swooping bow to escort her to dinner.

Brown and blue clash on the way out.

His hand dips a little lower; an answer, maybe.

Their song is 'Mr. Brightside'.

Chris gets right to it.

"Basically you—"

He points at Damian.

"And you—"

He points at Cameron.

"—are going to take turns singing the verses."

He turns to Hannah, "And you'll be joining them on the chorus to harmonize. Mostly you'll be acting. The guys will alternate between being your boyfriend and the person you're cheating with."

Chris hands one copy to Hannah and one to Cameron, grinning sheepishly.

"Sorry guys, you'll have to share. Copy machine was being a bitch this morning."

Cameron beats Hannah to the punch.

"That's okay. Damian can share with me."

Chris assigns them their verses. They both have to press together, heads bent low and close to each other over the paper.

The font is damn small.

Really.

The breakfast before is always a hyper-tense affair.

Sometimes they all talk over each other, babbling uncontrollably, sometimes they are stiffly silent, panicking inside and trying their best to remember their upcoming lines. The conversation jumps abruptly from one topic to another as they try to distract themselves.

"So how's your girlfriend doing?"

"Yeah, Lisa, right?"

The first from Samuel who means well. The second from Lindsay, who he thinks, doesn't. He swallows wrong and coughs, pounding against his chest.

It pounds back.

"Um, yeah. She's fine."

Lindsay has that look in her eye again, the scary gleam. The one that says she's about to start talking and you're going to be stuck for the next hour. Like a pit bull. Minus the dog saliva.

"I think your relationship is just the cutest thing," her voice is insincere and he wonders what kind of game she is playing, "How faithful you are and everything, you know, it's just so hard to find nowadays."

"That special bond that transcends sex and all that physical stuff that most guys are only interested in," she smiles sweetly, "Don't you think it's great, Damian?"

Damian startled at the sound of his name, cereal bowl threatening to spill at he turns toward her.

"Aye?"

Cameron has a bad feeling about this. Why can't she just leave well enough alone?

Starting with Damian.

"Don't you think it's adorable how Cameron is in love with his girlfriend?"

That damn word and all its implications. And suddenly the rubber band is stretched to breaking point again.

God, he does not need this now.

Damian turns towards him, slowly. Deliberately.

Back facing the rest of their fellow contestants. And it's like everyone else just fades; the world narrows. All that matters is Damian and the carefully guarded look on his face that Cameron hates just as much as the sadness.

"You think Cameron's in love?"

Directed at Lindsay. Meant for him. Not so much a question as a statement, another challenge.

Lindsay from the background:

"Of course. Why else would he be so freaked out by us girls?"

Damian quirks an eyebrow, the curve of it saying a hundred wordless things. Cameron has to actually grip the counter he's leaning against to stop himself from doing something drastic. And irreversible.

Because there are people here. No matter how irrelevant.

Not that he would, if they were alone. He's just saying.

"So…"

A heavy pause. He wonders if, like a rubber band, the breaking of tension will rebound. Snap back.

"…do you love her?"

For a moment, Cameron is furious at Damian.

Doesn't he understand? He can't just tell the truth. He can't just stop pretending because there was once someone who asked him to, eyes wide and blue. The kind of blue that eyes are sometimes, and so terribly hopeful.

"Yes, I love her. I plan on marrying her someday."

(He grips the counter but the damage is irreversible anyway.)