So far, Ric had to admit, the cameras weren't such a bad thing. True, Darwin had refused to come out of the bathroom this morning and Gav had surfaced from their shared room long enough to get a mug of coffee before disappearing. But Jamie loved the cameras, and as long as he kept yapping at them, the cameramen were less inclined to bother the rest of them.
Ric eventually found his boyfriend camped out on his favourite spot on the roof. "Hey, babe." Ric said as he clambered out to join him. "How're you doin'?"
Gav muttered something back in Vorozheikan that Ric understood as "I hate my life." and shook his head. "We're supposed to be getting our 'mentor' today." Ric added, scooching next to the bigger man.
The redhead sighed and slumped over, leaning across Ric's shoulder. "I don't think it will be my father. I'm sure Ms. Braddock realises that the two of us arguing will not make very good television." He said with forced hope, then sighed again and nuzzled his face against Ric's neck. "How did you avoid the cameramen?"
"Jamie won't shut up. It's like his entire life has been building up to the moment where he'd have cameras following him around 24-7." Ric laughed and took a sip of Gav's coffee. "The rest of us have been using that to our advantage."
"You must think I'm a coward." Gav muttered.
"Never. I know you and your dad don't always get along, but he's not a bad guy, Gav. You know that. Even if he *does* want to sell you to me for two goats and a Les Paul." Ric started. The rest of their conversation trailed off as they noticed the cameramen and Jamie out on the sidewalk.
Ric scowled down at the cab pulling up. It wasn't Sem that got out, though. It wasn't even Wildways' charismatic lead singer, Remy. It was some blonde guy, no older than they were, who looked like he rather belonged in some Finnish kvlt as fvck death metal folk band.
"Who the fuck is that?" He squawked and Gav leaned over the edge of the roof to stare with him.
"Julio. Do you remember what I told you when we first started dating?" He said carefully.
"What, that your dad had tried to marry you off to some landowner's kid back in Vorozheika when you were little?" Ric turned to him.
"Yeah. That." Gav chewed the inside of his cheek.
"Are you sure?" Ric looked back down at the viking striding into their home with a guitar case and a duffle bag. "I mean, you were what? Ten?"
"I'm positive. He's still got the scar next to his eye where I punched him in the face." Gav winced. "Dad said he'd spoken to him recently. I didn't think anything of it."
"Oh, good. This'll be fun, then." Ric sat back.
Goats or no, Gav was his, and no Teutonic lothario was going to change that.