Even in his drunken state, Edwin couldn't help but notice Lance's captivating features and concerned gray eyes.
"Lance!" Edwin exclaimed, his words slurring together. "My hero! Come to rescue me again?"
Still in the mood to drink, Edwin steadied himself as he staggered over to the bar, requesting for another drink.
"Jesus, Edwin. What are you doing to yourself?" Lance said, as he followed the drunk Edwin, making sure that he doesn't stumble and fall.
"Celebrating!" Edwin laughed bitterly, raising his glass. "To my ruined career! To my ex-fiancée! To my life going down the drain!"
Lance's brow furrowed with concern. He gently took the glass from Edwin's hand. "That's enough, mate. Let's get you out of here."
As Lance's strong arm wrapped around his waist, Edwin felt a jolt of electricity run through him. He leaned into Lance's solid frame, inhaling his musky scent.
"You smell nice," Edwin mumbled, his face pressed against Lance's neck. "Why couldn't I have met you before all this mess?"
Lance stiffened slightly at Edwin's words, but didn't pull away. "Come on, big shot. Let's get you home."
As they made their way through the club, Edwin clung to Lance, their bodies pressed close in the crowded space. Despite his drunken state, Edwin was acutely aware of every point of contact between them.
"You're so strong," Edwin slurred, his hand running down Lance's muscled arm. "And kind. Why are you helping me?"
Lance glanced down at Edwin, their faces inches apart. For a moment, the air between them crackled with tension. "Because I care," Lance said softly, his eyes searching Edwin's face.
As Lance guided Edwin through the crowded club towards the exit, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw Devin, eyebrows raised and a smirk playing on his lips.
"Well, well, well," Devin drawled, his eyes darting between Lance and Edwin. "What do we have here? I thought you came to prove you weren't interested in our scandal-ridden superstar?"
Lance felt heat rising to his cheeks but kept his voice steady. "He needs help, Dev. I couldn't just leave him there."
Devin's smirk widened. "Oh, I'm sure. And I suppose those lingering looks and protective arm around his waist are just part of your heroic duty?"
"Cut it out," Lance hissed, acutely aware of Edwin's proximity. "He's drunk and vulnerable. This isn't the time for your jokes."
Edwin, barely conscious, mumbled something unintelligible and nestled closer to Lance's side. Lance instinctively tightened his grip, supporting more of Edwin's weight.
Devin's eyes gleamed with amusement. "My, my. Aren't we cozy? You know, Lance, when I suggested you come out tonight, this wasn't quite what I had in mind."
Lance sighed, exasperated. "Look, I'm just making sure he gets home safely. It's not what you think."
"And what exactly do I think?" Devin challenged, crossing his arms.
Before Lance could respond, Edwin stirred, lifting his head. "Lance?" he slurred, his bleary eyes struggling to focus. "Where are we going?"
"Home, Edwin. I'm taking you home," Lance replied softly, his attention immediately shifting to the inebriated star.
Devin watched the interaction with growing interest. "Well, isn't this touching? Our resident playboy, playing knight in shining armor."
Lance shot Devin a warning glare. "Are you coming with us or staying here?"
Devin glanced around the club, the night still young and the dance floor pulsing with energy. "Oh, I'm not ready to call it a night just yet. Besides," he added with a wink, "I wouldn't want to intrude on your... rescue mission."
"Dev, I swear-"
"Relax, Lance," Devin chuckled, holding up his hands. "Go on, take your damsel in distress home. But don't think this gets you off the hook. We'll talk about this little adventure later."
As Lance maneuvered Edwin towards the exit, Devin called out, "Have fun playing nurse, loverboy!"
Lance felt annoyance and embarrassment churning in his stomach as he guided Edwin out of the club and into the cool night air. The fresh breeze seemed to rouse Edwin slightly, and he stumbled, nearly taking both of them down.
"Easy there," Lance murmured, his breath warm against Edwin's ear as he steadied him. "I've got you."
Edwin looked up at Lance, his vision swimming. In that moment, overwhelmed by despair and alcohol, all he wanted was to lose himself in Lance's strong embrace.
"Don't let go," Edwin whispered, his words barely audible as he clung to Lance like a lifeline.
As they approached Lance's car, he couldn't shake Devin's words from his mind. Was he really that transparent? And more importantly, was there any truth to what Devin was implying? Lance pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the immediate task of getting Edwin home safely. Those were questions for another time, when his arms weren't full of a vulnerable, intoxicated superstar who seemed to be stirring emotions Lance wasn't quite ready to confront.
Lance leads Edwin to his car, parked nearby. He carefully helps Edwin into the passenger seat of his sleek, black sports car, the soft leather enveloping Edwin's slumped form. He gently buckles Edwin in, making sure he's secure before closing the door.
As Lance slides into the driver's seat, the car's interior lights illuminate his handsomeness, his eyes gleaming with concern. He starts the engine, and the car purrs to life, its powerful hum a mockery to Edwin's weakened state. With a gentle touch, Lance puts the car in gear and pulls out of the club's parking lot, gliding smoothly into the night.
The city lights blur together as they speed through the streets, the car's advanced suspension handling the turns with ease. Edwin's head lolls against the window, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Lance keeps a watchful eye on him, ensuring he doesn't hurt himself as he drifts in and out of consciousness.
As they drive away from the club, Lance hands Edwin a bottle of water, his expression painted with concern and understanding. "You're better than this, Edwin. You don't have to let your demons win."
Edwin looks up, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy, but a glimmer of gratitude flickers within. He takes a sip of water, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat. "Am I?" he mumbles. "Better than this? I'm not so sure anymore."
Lance's intervention is a lifeline, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, hope and support can come from unexpected places. As they drive into the night, Edwin begins to sober up, his thoughts clearing, and his heart slowly piecing itself back together.
"I've messed everything up, Lance," Edwin says, his voice cracking. "My career, my relationship, my life. I don't know how to fix it."
Lance glances at Edwin, his expression softening. "Rock bottom is a foundation, Edwin. You can rebuild from here. But you have to want it."
Edwin nods slowly, the weight of Lance's words sinking in. For the first time in weeks, he feels a small spark of hope ignite within him.
As they approach Lance's luxurious mansion, the car glides through the gates and up the winding driveway. Lance pulls into the garage, shutting off the engine. He tenderly helps Edwin out of the car, supporting his limp form as they make their way into the house.