Chapter Text
Something Damaged was officially over.
It had been a slow, painful grinding to an end, and the several-months-late wrap party to celebrate was nothing short of a metaphor of how no one just let the Once Golden Child Show, fallen from grace, have the quiet and dignified death it deserved.
Clark was tempted to turn around and leave the moment he entered the private event room it was being held in, the vibes were, as Sinny would put it, rancid. But Cameron saw him and waved over to him, and Clark sighed. At least he had Cameron to talk to. And Julian—
"Thank fuck you're here," Cameron muttered the moment Clark walked up to him.
"That bad?"
"Worse. Keith is here."
"Ew. Why?" Keith was the final showrunner and director, who had managed to successfully chase off both Julian and himself, primarily with his own incompetence but also the frankly egregious way he handled when Cameron—
"Clark," Reginald Smythe, Cameron's recently minted fiancé greeted, handing Cameron a drink, who gave Reginald a brief soft smile. "Thank God you're here. I was afraid I'd have to actually talk to someone here."
"I'd never do that to you, Reg," Clark responded, chuckling. "Is Lacey here?"
Cameron snorted. "God, no. She's in LA with us, but she's back at the condo. Don't think she'd want to come if I asked."
"Oh? Are you looking at wedding venues here?"
"Absolutely not," Reginald cut in with a haughty huff. "I am not getting married in America."
"Well, I was thinking…" Cameron started, biting back a teasing grin as he slid a hand under Reginald's suit jacket to rest on his lower back.
Reginald shot Cameron a glare, but he leaned a fraction closer to his fiancé. "No. Not America."
Clark shared a conspiratorial grin with Cameron, "I have a place in Canada. Vancouver. Water facing and everything."
Cameron’s grin doubled, "He has a place in Canada."
Reginald huffed with fond exasperation and rolled his eyes as Cameron grinned cheekily at him. Clark hid his smile behind his hand, feeling both overjoyed for his best friend and unyieldingly jealous. "Have you set a date yet?"
"July 29th," Reginald said very matter-of-factly. “And the venue is already booked.”
"Can't wait," Clark replied genuinely. He’d been excited since Cameron Facetimed him mere moments after Reginald said yes.
"That reminds me," Cameron started, his grin turning nervous, "Whenever you get a chance, I need to ask you something."
"Hopefully it's not to marry me too," Clark joked. "Not that I wouldn't say yes, but I don't think Reg would appreciate a sister-wife situation."
Cameron laughed, "No, one husband is enough for me.”
“Yeah, I’ll text you. Lunch, maybe?” Clark offered, and based off of Cameron's boyish grin, he had an idea of what Cameron was going to ask (the answer was yes—of course).
"Has Julian arrived yet?" Clark asked. Julian hadn't been planning to attend at all, but Cameron had twisted both of their arms to agree. Julian had certainly acted on the group chat that Cameron was physically twisting his arm before he finally gave in. Still, scanning the crowd, Clark couldn't spot him.
Cameron started to shake his head when Reginald piped up, "He is. He arrived earlier."
"He did?" Cameron and Clark asked at the same time.
"Yeah, I saw him briefly while I was getting drinks. He might've been heading to the terrace," Reginald explained
"You could've said something," Cameron huffed. "I've been looking for him all evening."
"I was, but then Clark got here, and—"
"I'll go find him," Clark said. "And look out, Tasha spotted you."
Cameron winced—Natasha didn’t understand why Cameron would ever want to step away from Hollywood, and was constantly trying to pull him into whatever low budget sitcom she had been cast in. Clark slipped his way through the crowd, smiling and exchanging quick pleasantries with the crew and extras he passed. In spite of the crappy memories at the end that had colored the entire experience as a whole, he had always been impressed with the team behind Something Damaged, and he felt a little bad that he had considered skipping the event and miss who was supposed to be celebrated at this party: everyone.
Finally, Clark made it to the doors of the terrace, tucked off to the side, and quickly ducked through. Not to any surprise, there was a lone figure out there, leaning against a pillar, sipping from what Clark guessed was a mojito. Julian had taken off his suit jacket, draping it over his shoulders as he looked out over the city stamped against the late evening skyline.
"Looking for Venus?" Clark asked as he walked up to Julian. The actor grinned up at him in that crooked, lazy way around the straw of his drink that sent Clark's heart into mild palpitations. Clark had forgotten how soft Julian's face looked without the ever-present sunglasses perched on his nose. "Sick of the party already?"
Julian snorted softly. "It's too damn stuffy in there. I thought I was going to suffocate."
"I thought you liked parties," Clark teased, nudging Julian's arm.
"I like fun parties," Julian huffed. "Not… whatever the fuck that is inside."
Clark definitely couldn't disagree with the sentiment. "Cameron and Reginald are looking for you."
Julian exhaled slowly, like he was resigning himself to a cold fate. "I'll come back inside in a minute, I just… need some air."
"Mind if I join you? I won't be bothersome, I promise," Clark said gently, and the smile he got from Julian was genuine, softer. Clark wanted nothing more than to see him smile like that more.
"I never mind. Not when it's you," Julian replied easily, as if it was the most simple thing in the world. As if those last four words didn't knock the air out of Clark's lungs. He put on a smile as if he didn't feel like his heart was being squeezed. Because he knew what Julian meant by it, that it didn't mean what Clark wanted it to mean. What he had wanted it to mean for years. Still, he was grateful for what he could get of Julian.
They stood side-by-side in silence for a long moment before Julian piped up, "Is Venus really visible?"
"Yeah, it should be right…" he glanced over the sky before pointing in the distance. "There."
Julian shuffled closer until he was practically pressed against Clark, the ends of his waves tickling Clark's face, and Clark got a whiff of the cologne that Julian always wore. He squinted, trying to look straight down Clark's arm. Clark grinned into Julian's hair, adding, "The really bright one."
"Oh. Oh, I see it!" Julian exclaimed, turning around to grin brightly up at Clark. He seemed to realize how close he was standing and took a step back, clearing his throat. Clark felt a lot colder than he did a second ago without Julian's body heat right there. "You know a lot about the stars, don't you?"
Clark shrugged. "Not much, really. My mom used to take me star gazing when I was little. Even wanted to be an astronaut when I was little—like most kids."
Julian chuckled, "Wanted to be among the stars, Sawyer?"
Clark hummed, "Kind of. And I guess I am now, in a way."
"We're not as bright as the ones up there," Julian huffed. Clark didn't respond, but he knew he was standing next to the brightest star of them all.