Ken's restless for the beach and Allan is, too, although maybe not to the extreme. Ken's a boundless fountain of bubbling energy that's honestly only surpassed by his good looks, so of course the weather effects him. Homesickness gets him, too, moreso than Allan, so Allan's doing what he can.
By the time Ken asks what he's doing Allan rounds the corner, a small tray with two large glasses filled with orange juice, rum, pineapple juice and cream of coconut. If they both miss the beach--Ken moreso--he might as well bring it to them. He's even taken care to add a cherry and have a few brightly coloured straws: Ken gets a pink umbrella and Allan has a green one.
"I was going to answer e-mails but it's too depressing outside," he reasons, setting the drinks down on the coffee table right in front of the couch Ken is laying down at.
Gosh, Ken loves Allan. The brightly coloured drinks get an instant smile out of him as well as a look of adoration directed at Allan, and Ken sits up, patting the spot on the couch next to him.
"Good. I was gonna tell you not to work today because if I'm not working, then you shouldn't be working, and maybe we can just do stuff."
If he's distracted he can't feel morose, right?
Picking up the drink, Ken takes a sip and immediately lets out a happy sigh. Instant California in a cup.
Allan's already got the vast majority of his work done anyway--he gets up around the same time Ken's early morning gym outings and jogs and spends the time it takes for Ken to do that to hit the books and get most of their work done. He's extremely efficient when he wants to be, and he'd much rather spend most of his time with Ken and stepping away for the occasional confirmation phone call than not being near him for hours at a time. Ken has to go to the vast majority of the meetings Allan has to go to anyway, given that Ken's face is what makes them money.It works out. It's nice.
E-mails can wait. Especially with Ken insistent that he doesn't work. Who is he to say no to the love of his life? He beams, clearly pleased at both the words and the sigh, sliding next to him and letting their knees bump against each other. He holds his own glass as awkwardly as possible with two hands and is completely unbothered by it.
"We can do whatever you want to do. Would going to a roller rink later tonight boost morale? Or hit that steak house you really like?"
He turns his head and presses his nose into Allan's cheek, fond and more lingering than a simple kiss there would be.
"Can we do both?" he asks, voice a little muffled by Allan's face.
Ken's pretty sure that Allan doesn't really like roller rinks in the sense that he doesn't think Allan likes rollerskating. Still, whenever they go to things like that, Allan does seem to have a good time in the end.
There's a thoughtful hum from him as he moves his head again, this time to rest on Allan's shoulder as he sips from both the straws in his drink.
"Why don't we go that restaurant you were talking about the other day?"
Because he listens, and just because he was trying to decide how many suitcases to pack doesn't mean he missed Allan mentioning off-hand a super popular sushi place that's been getting crazy good reviews. Ken likes doing stuff he likes to do, but he likes doing stuff Allan likes doing, too, sometimes.
Ken pays attention. Allan never doubts it--people underestimate Ken and it's always driven him a bit nuts--but it causes him to smile wide, genuine and soft as his fingers curl against the glass.
"If you're into it I'm totally into it. Both sounds perfect." He's always loved watching Ken get to be as high energy as he likes and he loves roller rink music, it's a win for him anyway, but an exclusive sushi restaurant as well?
He's already whipping out his phone with his free hand, head against the top of Ken's head, heart racing with nothing but affection.
"Cool to use your name to get a reservation? I'm thinking this is a business meeting. We can discuss our game plan for tomorrow." By which Allan means he'll probably say something like 'I'll wake you up at 6?' before they continue to have the time of their lives.
Ken makes a fist with his free hand, and under his breath he says, "Yes, date night." Then he sips more drink before continuing, at regular volume, "Yeah. Totally cool to use it."
That means he just has to kill maybe seven or eight hours, and two of those hours will absolutely be getting ready and figuring out what to wear, so that's not bad! Maybe he can convince Allan to take a nap with him and then they'll just have, like, three hours to fill.
Allan mirrors Ken's free-hand fist perfectly at the permission to get a guaranteed swanky seat, complete with a muttered 'yesss.' It's difficult considering both of his hands are full but he manages to do it. The miracle of Allan.
He takes a sip, sets the drink down and allows his fingers to absently roam on Ken, touching at his shoulder idly as he makes the uick phone call. It's awkward and stilted but he still manages to get it done. Again, the miracle of Allan. He hangs up and his phone joins the drink on the coffee table, which means Allan has an extra hand to card absently through Ken's short hair, massaging his scalp.
Any linger tension leaves Ken at the feeling of fingers in his hair (which only Allan is allowed to mess up). He lets out a pleased sigh before sipping back half of his drink and getting only a slight brain freeze.
“Yeah. It’s just … Home, you know?” All the other models are always so excited to travel, but Ken would love nothing more than to just work out of Southern California. “All of our stuff is there.”
"Yeah I wanna eat lunch and nap," Allan says automatically, because it's what Ken wants to do and Allan can honestly think of nothing better than curling himself onto Ken's incredibly sculpted and warm chest on a day with a dreary, cloudy sky.
He leans forward, pants Ken's knee, and gets up. Drinks are nice but food is nicer--he's not going to complain if Ken follows him into the fridge, either. They have to have something. Allan's not the world's best cook and the majority of restaurants they hit are astounding in number, but it's always a neverending whirlwind of fun with Ken and it's easy to forget to do things like learn how to make more than a grilled cheese.
Speaking of... He's already pulling the little plastic slices out of the little bag.
Ken gets up and follows, like a lost puppy trailing after a human its attached itself to. He doesn't really care what lunch is. Allan could slap a piece of ham between two slices of bread and that could be lunch. It drives Ken's personal trainers crazy that he's always eating out or ordering in, but he's also apparently genetically blessed to be able to stay ripped with his morning workouts and less than stellar diet. The compromise is that his morning pre-workout snack and his breakfast are nutritionally dense for maximum performance and recovery (they get those premade and delivered with a food prep company). Everything else? Totally fair game as long as he gets some good protein and veggies at dinner.
He leans against the counter in a way that looks like he's advertising pajama pants in the pages of Vanity Fair.
"Well ... I need something nice for dinner." Because it's date night and nice restaurants usually want you to look nice and Ken wants to look nice for Allan. "But I also wanna be able to rollerskate." The dilemma. He hums as he thinks through what he brought.
"Oh! The nice black jeans and maybe that pink polo shirt with the white collar?" And the impossibly deep v-neck. "I can throw a jacket over it for dinner."
He'll still probably change outfits at least five times before circling back to his original plan.
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By the time Ken asks what he's doing Allan rounds the corner, a small tray with two large glasses filled with orange juice, rum, pineapple juice and cream of coconut. If they both miss the beach--Ken moreso--he might as well bring it to them. He's even taken care to add a cherry and have a few brightly coloured straws: Ken gets a pink umbrella and Allan has a green one.
"I was going to answer e-mails but it's too depressing outside," he reasons, setting the drinks down on the coffee table right in front of the couch Ken is laying down at.
no subject
"Good. I was gonna tell you not to work today because if I'm not working, then you shouldn't be working, and maybe we can just do stuff."
If he's distracted he can't feel morose, right?
Picking up the drink, Ken takes a sip and immediately lets out a happy sigh. Instant California in a cup.
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E-mails can wait. Especially with Ken insistent that he doesn't work. Who is he to say no to the love of his life? He beams, clearly pleased at both the words and the sigh, sliding next to him and letting their knees bump against each other. He holds his own glass as awkwardly as possible with two hands and is completely unbothered by it.
"We can do whatever you want to do. Would going to a roller rink later tonight boost morale? Or hit that steak house you really like?"
no subject
"Can we do both?" he asks, voice a little muffled by Allan's face.
Ken's pretty sure that Allan doesn't really like roller rinks in the sense that he doesn't think Allan likes rollerskating. Still, whenever they go to things like that, Allan does seem to have a good time in the end.
There's a thoughtful hum from him as he moves his head again, this time to rest on Allan's shoulder as he sips from both the straws in his drink.
"Why don't we go that restaurant you were talking about the other day?"
Because he listens, and just because he was trying to decide how many suitcases to pack doesn't mean he missed Allan mentioning off-hand a super popular sushi place that's been getting crazy good reviews. Ken likes doing stuff he likes to do, but he likes doing stuff Allan likes doing, too, sometimes.
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"If you're into it I'm totally into it. Both sounds perfect." He's always loved watching Ken get to be as high energy as he likes and he loves roller rink music, it's a win for him anyway, but an exclusive sushi restaurant as well?
He's already whipping out his phone with his free hand, head against the top of Ken's head, heart racing with nothing but affection.
"Cool to use your name to get a reservation? I'm thinking this is a business meeting. We can discuss our game plan for tomorrow." By which Allan means he'll probably say something like 'I'll wake you up at 6?' before they continue to have the time of their lives.
no subject
That means he just has to kill maybe seven or eight hours, and two of those hours will absolutely be getting ready and figuring out what to wear, so that's not bad! Maybe he can convince Allan to take a nap with him and then they'll just have, like, three hours to fill.
no subject
He takes a sip, sets the drink down and allows his fingers to absently roam on Ken, touching at his shoulder idly as he makes the uick phone call. It's awkward and stilted but he still manages to get it done. Again, the miracle of Allan. He hangs up and his phone joins the drink on the coffee table, which means Allan has an extra hand to card absently through Ken's short hair, massaging his scalp.
"...It always feels weird being away from LA."
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Any linger tension leaves Ken at the feeling of fingers in his hair (which only Allan is allowed to mess up). He lets out a pleased sigh before sipping back half of his drink and getting only a slight brain freeze.
“Yeah. It’s just … Home, you know?” All the other models are always so excited to travel, but Ken would love nothing more than to just work out of Southern California. “All of our stuff is there.”
Why does New York have to be so grey?
He glances up at Allan.
“Wanna eat lunch and nap?”
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He leans forward, pants Ken's knee, and gets up. Drinks are nice but food is nicer--he's not going to complain if Ken follows him into the fridge, either. They have to have something. Allan's not the world's best cook and the majority of restaurants they hit are astounding in number, but it's always a neverending whirlwind of fun with Ken and it's easy to forget to do things like learn how to make more than a grilled cheese.
Speaking of... He's already pulling the little plastic slices out of the little bag.
"You know what you're gonna wear?"
no subject
He leans against the counter in a way that looks like he's advertising pajama pants in the pages of Vanity Fair.
"Well ... I need something nice for dinner." Because it's date night and nice restaurants usually want you to look nice and Ken wants to look nice for Allan. "But I also wanna be able to rollerskate." The dilemma. He hums as he thinks through what he brought.
"Oh! The nice black jeans and maybe that pink polo shirt with the white collar?" And the impossibly deep v-neck. "I can throw a jacket over it for dinner."
He'll still probably change outfits at least five times before circling back to his original plan.