Such Sweet Nothing

Chapter 1: Earth

Earth felt stupid because he had it bad over a guy.

And he didn't stress over guys as a rule. Especially not this particular guy who was 19 and happened to be his co-star and best friend.

Well... former best friend.

Earth appraised himself in the brightly lit mirror of the make up room. He ran his pinky along his bottom lip, smoothing and blending his lipgloss into the pink lipstick that was layered underneath. He laid a stubborn strand of hair flat and tugged his clothes on properly. He felt confident and excited to show off his outfit, but of course the one time he had a schedule with Santa, the stylists decided on a cute concept. If it were up to him, he would've dressed in something much more sexy.

At least he still had a crop top on.

Earth examined and admired his likeness in the mirror, searching in vain for imperfections. Once satisfied, he abandoned the vanity that had been his companion for the last few hours and got into the van that was waiting to shuttle him and Santa to their latest event.

Santa wasn't too far behind. He was the most curious juxtaposition of hot and cute in the blue and pink palette the dress code demanded. Earth had always thought that Santa was good looking. Even when he was more cute than handsome, he'd caught Earth's eye. Earth used to be able to control the expression on his face when Santa was close. He was no stranger to the way Santa made his pulse quicken and his breath stutter with his aggressive flirtations. Long before he met him, he had mastered his reaction to men he felt attracted to, but that that control deserted him now.

Santa climbed into the car wearing cushiony pink drawstring pants and a blue-striped shirt peppered with little pink hearts. His broad shoulders filled out the blue velvet letterman jacket he wore over everything. Earth felt his breath catch and his heart skittered in his chest like a leaf caught in a breeze. Santa looked cool and indifferent. He favored Earth with nothing more than a blank stare and a raised eyebrow, his eyelids set low in his signature smolder. Earth swallowed nervously as the familiar, musky scent of his cologne filled the car.

Earth was used to staring at Santa without reserve, he was used to having his attention be welcomed and returned. He missed the way Santa used to rake his eyes over Earth's body and shower him with audacious compliments and bawdy looks. He missed the way they'd buzzed around each other, content to just be in each other's orbits. He missed the effusive touches, and the secret looks. Earth missed the way Santa used to look at him when Earth checked him out. So flattered and pleased, unable to keep the smug smile from his face. His eyes became playful crescent moons of happiness, and he would smile so big that he put the sun to shame. It was a look that proudly announced that Earth was the cause of his joy, and it was intoxicating.

Earth closed his mouth, unaware that it had even parted, and forced himself to look away. Lately, whenever Santa caught him staring, Earth would receive a detached and uninterested look instead of his usual warm reception. Earth felt like the ground was crumbling away from underneath him, he felt that sick disconnect between body and mind during a free fall, hurtling downwards out of control. Things between them just weren't the same anymore, and Earth didn't even know why.

A few months ago, if they'd had an event scheduled, Santa would've been texting him all day before call time. Hell, he probably would've slept over and they would've rolled up to makeup and wardrobe together, joking and laughing the whole time. Santa would've thrown a casual but intimate arm over his shoulder or around his waist and pulled him close in a way that made Earth's heart clench painfully to think about now.

Santa would've flirted with him shamelessly and Earth would revel in that fun, floaty feeling that suffused his body any time he commanded Santa's attention. Now he just felt prickly, fragile, and insecure.