by Beth Bolden
Landon could just shut him down right now, but the part of him that can’t forget the way he felt the day his label dumped him still craves the validation. Craves the attention. So he doesn’t. “It was a tough season, I was lucky to end up in third,” he says with as much graciousness as he can dig up. Actually, in reality, he’s aping Quentin and the nonchalant way he accepts compliments.
“And,” Caleb continues, “I loved your second album. I know it didn’t do as well, commercially, but it’s one of my all-time favorites.”
This is not something Landon hears very often. Or ever, actually. “Really?” he asks, the most genuine he’s been since exiting the cab fifteen minutes ago. “Nobody ever tells me that.”
“I thought it was really raw, really honest. Maybe too honest, before that became popular,” Caleb admits. “Now it’s all the trend, right? Troye Sivan and Halsey, singing about how painful it is to be queer. But you did it first.”
“Maybe not the first,” Landon admits graciously, but he can’t believe he nearly had Caleb pegged as a fake admirer, when in reality he’s one of the few who tried to understand his second album.
Unfortunately when Quentin reappears from overturning every empty box in the storeroom, or whatever it was he was doing, he finds Landon and Caleb in the middle of a chummy conversation about Landon’s music.
Quentin does not look happy. In fact, Landon doesn’t think he’s ever seen him even slightly annoyed before, and now all at once, he looks pissed. Landon doesn’t know what to do with it, so he shuts up. Caleb is not that smart, and doesn’t know when to quit.
“. . . I just really love the way you used the swimming metaphor through the whole album. The imagery, it was beautiful. . .” Caleb rambles on.
It takes him a few seconds to realize Landon isn’t paying attention anymore and he looks up at Quentin.
“All finished?” he asks.
Quentin gives a sharp nod. “Though it would have been helpful,” he drawls, “to have you giving me some advice and information instead of hitting on my boyfriend.”
Caleb splutters. Landon nearly opens his mouth to defend the other man, then realizes that Quentin is 100% right. Caleb should have been helping Quentin. That is Caleb’s job. Instead of being a loyal boyfriend by bluntly ushering Caleb to this conclusion, Landon has been standing here stroking his own ego.
“Landon, can I speak to you alone for a moment?” Quentin switches his attention to the man next to him, and his glare is cutting. Landon didn’t even know he could look like that. “And while we talk, you can do your job and find some decent buildings that aren’t full of dust and broken-down equipment.”
Caleb nods mutely while Quen leads Landon outside to the still-deserted street corner. No foot traffic here. No wonder the café didn’t last.
“I’m sorry,” Landon gets out before Quentin can express all the ways that Landon is a fuck-up. He knows they’re coming. They’ve been coming his whole damn life, and just this once, with this one man, Landon hoped this conversation wasn’t an inevitability, but it turns out he can’t avoid it.
Quentin ignores his apology. Still looks pissed. “Do you even know how important this is to me?” he finally asks. “Do you have any idea?”
That’s the problem; Landon knows. Landon knows and he still fucked it up. He nods slowly.
“And you monopolized his time anyway? I mean, I know he was probably a persistent asshole. You seemed to realize it when we were outside. But as soon as he started feeding your ego, it was like you couldn’t resist. I barely even recognized you in there.”
Quentin seems less angry as he keeps talking, but more confused. Landon wants to cry. Hurting Quentin’s feelings is bad enough; making him wonder if the Landon he cares about doesn’t exist is another.
“I’m sorry,” is all Landon can repeat. “I’m . . . weak. I need attention and too much validation. That’s the truth. Maybe it’s better you find that out now.”
The crease between Quentin’s brows deepens. “There’s nothing wrong with attention and validation. We all need them. But I needed them more than you did right then.”
Landon knows Quen is right. He did need them more, right then. And Landon stole Caleb’s attention and his expertise and made Quentin feel like a nuisance and a third wheel when this whole trip is supposed to be about him. All Landon can do is apologize again.
Quentin’s expression softens. “It’s okay, I get it. I do. He said all the right stuff. Everything you wanted to hear. It’s hard to turn that away.”
“I don’t want to fuck this up,” Landon admits into Quen’s shoulder as he pulls him in, close. “I’m so afraid I’m going to.”
“You won’t,” Quentin promises. “We’re just . . . sometimes it’s a little rough figuring out a new relationship. We’ll get there. It’s not your fault.”
It is, but Quentin is too nice to say so.
Landon pulls away with a long sniff. He knows his eyes are red and wet. He’s not sure he can go back in and face Caleb. Is pretty sure he shouldn’t. “I think I’m going to head to the studio early. Julian won’t be there, but I can get some work in.”
“Landon, I want you here. This is so big and I’m terrified,” Quen finally admits. “I’m scared out of my damn mind.”
“You’re fantastic,” Landon vows. “I think you’ll be better on your own, really. I’m just . . . a distraction.”
Quentin glances into the dirty window of the building where Caleb is waiting. “Do you think I should give him another chance?”
“You’re giving me another chance,” Landon counters. Frankly he doesn’t know why he’s defending Caleb. He shouldn’t be. But then, he’s never talked to anyone who has ever admitted to loving his second album before. Maybe Caleb has unexplored depths.
“Yeah,” Quentin teases. “But you’re Landon Patton. Caleb is just some guy who over-styles his hair.”
Landon laughs and feels the tight panic in his chest begin to unwind. They’re going to be okay. He didn’t screw up the best thing to ever happen to him. “Don’t you forget it,” he teases right back.
Quentin leans in for a brief kiss, and there’s a heart-stopping moment before Landon realizes that nothing has changed. They’re still crazy about each other. Quen still looks at him like he doesn’t want him to go and Landon still gets those butterflies in his stomach every time he does.
“I’ll see you tonight?” Quentin says hopefully. “Dinner?”
“It’s a date,” Landon promises.
When he gets to the studio, he takes a quick trip to the bathroom. When he’s washing up his hands in the sink, he glances up at the mirror. His eyes are red-rimmed, and there’s still traces of fear in them. His stomach still feels unsettled.
He wants to be the best version of himself for Quentin. Wants to be a grownup he can count on, but deep down, Landon doesn’t know if he’s capable of it. It’s pure selfishness that keeps him close to Quentin, loving him when he really deserves better.
“What do you think our theme will be this week?” Landon asks Quentin as they head down from their green room to the main Kitchen Wars soundstage.
He does genuinely want to know Quentin’s thoughts, but he’s also trying to distract himself from remembering their fight this last week. He guesses it was a fight anyway. By the time Landon and Quentin met up for dinner later that night, Quen hadn’t brought it up, and Landon had been too afraid to. They’d let it go, but Landon is afraid that instead of moving past it, it’s still simmering on the back burner, ready to burn them when they get too comfortable.
Quentin starts rambling about possibilities and it turns out that the distraction isn’t quite enough because Landon is still unsettled as they head to their kitchen.
Quentin must realize because at some point, he just stops and glances down at Landon, a smile quirking up the corner of his lips. “Are you okay?” he asks. “You seem distracted.”
There are only four teams left. Landon can’t afford to be distrac
ted. As much as he might want to panic, he can’t. Not now.
There are three more weeks of competition. He’s got to focus for three more weeks. Surely even he can do that.
“I’m good,” Landon reassures Quentin, reaching down to squeeze his hand. Offer that little bit of extra certainty. If he’s reassuring himself as well as Quentin, nobody needs to know.
Filming starts, and when Zach walks out in a red lobster costume, goofy smile plastered in place, Landon can’t help the giggle that escapes him. Alexis smiles, looking a little more human, and nudges one of Zach’s “claws.” Landon has heard a rumor that Alexis is dating Zach and has been for awhile. Landon likes to see the way her face relaxes when she glances over at him in the ridiculous outfit. It reminds him of how his own sharper edges soften when he’s with Quentin.
“Yes, seafood is your theme of the week. But before you can shop and prepare a delicious dish for our judges, a little pre-shop auction, perhaps?”
Landon shifts nervously from foot to foot. He doesn’t like the sound of this at all. He glances up at Quentin, who is still staring in awe at Zach. Admittedly, it must take a big set of balls to don a lobster costume on national television. Even more impressively, Zach carries it with panache.
Alexis whips a white cloth off one of their regular shopping baskets. “Let’s start the bidding for this item at five hundred dollars. What for? Well, for the privilege of relieving one of your opponents of the opportunity to use one when they go shopping.”
Ugh, this is going to suck. But Landon does not feel even the slightest need to bid on this. He’s pretty sure they’re going to get it regardless, because after their triumphant win last week and the interview and he and Quentin’s sudden meme-worthy status, he would absolutely do the same if their roles were reversed.
But then Landon looks down at Quentin’s big hands, remembers how capable they are, and figures that he can absolutely handle it.
The bidding is quick and Landon isn’t surprised in the slightest when Rory and Kimber spend only two thousand dollars to confiscate their shopping basket. Honestly, Landon would have thought less of Rory if he hadn’t spent the money to take it away.
Quentin just gives Landon a lopsided, painfully adorable shrug when the basket disappears. They talked about this, knew they would almost certainly be sabotaged this week. They’ll be lucky if they don’t get the second sabotage too.
He doesn’t have to, but Landon gives Quentin a last reassuring squeeze before Quentin rushes off to the pantry to load up his hands with as much food as he can.
Landon usually doesn’t pay much attention to the shopping because it’s so short and usually hectic. But this time, he strains to watch Quentin through the glass doors of the pantry. When Quentin comes out, his arms loaded with ingredients and a calm smile on his face, Landon is so proud.
They rock. They can’t even be sabotaged. Landon shoots a quick triumphant look to Rory who just rolls his eyes as Quentin deposits their load onto their prep station.
“Our second auction,” Alexis announces, brandishing what looks like a weapon. “My favorite of the day, actually. This is a box cutter. Whoever wins this challenge can remove all the sharp implements from the team of their choice and force them to use this instead.”
Quentin makes a face to indicate just how he feels about losing his knives. Suddenly Landon really hopes that this doesn’t go to them.
The bidding quickly gets started, with Reed and Diego opening with $2,000. They clearly want to win this. They get into an intense bidding war with Rory, with Landon popping in a bid every once in awhile, just to drive the price up. If Quentin is going to be stuck with this “knife” then he sure as hell wants whoever buys it to pay way too much for it.
Rory drops out at $6,500. Nora, who’s been quiet until now, raises Diego and Reed to $6,700. They counter with seven and it’s all over.
Seven thousand dollars. Landon can’t believe they just spent so much money. That’s the most expensive sabotage that anyone has bought yet. Landon just prays that Reed and Diego have short-term memories and don’t remember that Landon once forced them to make all their cooking utensils and cooking vessels from aluminum foil.
Diego pauses dramatically, knife cutter in hand, in front of Landon and Quentin. He’s got a twinkle in his eye though, and Landon lets out a rather large sigh of relief as he changes course at the last moment and hands it to Oliver and Nora instead.
Thank god.
“Normally,” Alexis says next, and god, Landon wishes she would just stop talking, “you’d start cooking now. But I’ve got one more little surprise.”
“We’re going to have a little trivia contest,” Alexis continues, as pencils are distributed to the chefs, but not the celebrities, “to prove how well you’ve gotten to know your celebrity. Whoever answers the most questions correctly will not only receive a large stock pot, exclusive for their use, but also a fresh Maine lobster. Succulent and delicious, I assure you.”
Quentin perks up at this and Landon can’t help but giggle under his breath. Is there any person on earth that doesn’t think they have this in the bag?
Rory clearly does because he calls out, “This is totally unfair, I’ll have you know.”
Alexis just laughs maniacally. “There is no fair!” she pronounces. “There is only the war!”
Landon hears Rory continue to grumble as the celebrities are ushered out of the room. He isn’t happy that he won’t get to watch Quentin answer questions about him or see him own everyone’s asses. But he’s very, very confident that the latter is going to happen. They’re actually together, and while according to Quentin, Rory has been continually trying to get into Kimber’s bikini bottoms, he has yet to be successful.
Landon glances over to where Kimber’s standing. She’s clearly fretting over the unexpected challenge, and he suddenly feels like maybe it wouldn’t hurt to pretend they’re not competitors.
“It’ll be fine,” Landon promises as he sits down next to her. “Rory’s smart.”
Kimber gives him a rueful look. “I don’t think it’s going to matter how smart he is,” she retorts.
That is true.
Landon tries again, because you never know when you might need an Olympic athlete on your side. “You know, I hear a lot of things about you and Rory,” Landon offers with an eyebrow waggle.
She laughs, and he can see some of the tension melt from her face, and he takes that as a solid win. Rory should be grateful because he definitely doesn’t deserve Landon comforting his partner after that whole lazy Susan prep table fiasco.
“Certainly not as much as I hear about you and Quentin,” Kimber retorts.
Landon blushes. “He’s wonderful.”
Kimber has the nerve to look very smug. “I figured as much.”
“Everybody knows, don’t they?” Landon asks, not even the tiniest bit upset by this.
“Everybody knows,” she says seriously with a little nod of confirmation.
He makes a face and she laughs again.
Rory really owes Landon now, but it’s still nice to chat with Kimber for the next few minutes. She’s funny and kind and Landon decides that if Rory is a lucky man, maybe he’ll be successful in winning her over.
When they walk back onto the soundstage, Quentin’s triumphant smile tells Landon everything he needs to know. He won (big surprise) and he won big.
Alexis starts the cooking time with a flourish and off they go again. Except this time, Landon feels relaxed and prepared. Like they’ve got this and nothing can shake their confidence.
“What happened?” he asks Quentin as he gets the large pot on to boil.
“The questions were so easy,” Quentin says softly, like he’s afraid Alexis will hear them and suddenly decide to make their lives harder for the next hour.
“What did they ask about?” Landon wonders as he paws through the groceries Quentin carried back to their station. He’s got shrimp and lots of garlic, pasta, herbs, cherry tomatoes,
lemon, and some parmesan cheese. “Scampi?”
Quentin nods. “The lobster will really bump up the flavor I think. I stuck with simple in the pantry because I had to carry it all, but the lobster takes this to the next level.”
“Glad you won it then,” Landon says earnestly.
“The questions were honestly all things I even knew back from The Voice,” Quentin confesses. “So maybe that crush on you came in handy after all.”
Landon shoots him an affronted look. “I think it more than came in handy.”
Quentin’s smile is easy and free as he picks through the shrimp. “Can you chop some herbs for me? The basil and the parsley.”
They’ve been cooking at home together enough that Landon knows them both by sight and smell and surprises even himself at how calm he is, chopping them up as requested. He remembers a few weeks ago when he was afraid to even touch one of Quentin’s knives.
Speaking of knives, Landon glances over to where Oliver and Nora are working at the next station. They got saddled with the horrible box cutter, and Landon is really hopeful that it is going to make their time much more difficult.
He seems to be right, as Oliver is bent over the cutting board, cursing fluidly and in great detail over how terrible the box cutter is at slicing up his vegetables.
Quentin comes over to look. “Should’ve changed his game plan,” he whispers. “Came up with something that required less knife work. His cuts look horrible.”
“Does it really matter that much?” Landon asks, even though he already knows the answer. He knows the answer because Quentin didn’t force him to chop carrots for hours just because he liked the way his hands looked on the knife and how his eyes narrowed in concentration. Of course, maybe Quentin did like those things, but knife work is also important.
As predicted, Quentin just rolls his eyes. He puts the lobster in the boiling water, after tossing in some of the lemons he’s already juiced and zested. “For flavor,” he adds. “It’s subtle but I think it’ll add something.”
“Are you afraid our dish is too simple?” Landon asks as Quentin slices up a baguette.