/facepalm
So I actually wrote real-person slash. I kind of hate myself.
Title: Action!
Author: brinshannara
Rating: PG-13?
Fandom: GL (CC/JL) (RPS)
Summary: Set during the filming of their new webseries.
Author's Note: This is entirely ripptyd's fault. No disrespect meant to two phenomenal actors. This is my first (and hopefully only!) foray into RPF/S, but it just needed to be done. Really still blaming ripptyd. Quite a lot.
You swallow nervously. Your palms are sweaty, all of a sudden. Which is ridiculous. Aren't you supposed to be a professional? And anyway, why should you be nervous about this? It's just a kiss. And hey, it's not like you haven't kissed before or anything. Right?
'But,' you think to yourself, 'this is my series, not the show. This is my series and I'm involved in the creative process, the casting, everything.' Hell, it was all your idea, wasn't it?
And, sooner or later, you worry, everyone's going to figure out that this whole series is just an excuse to do what you're about to do. How stupid are you, anyways? This is far, *far* too transparent to actually work.
You almost chuckle, thinking about how this project came to be and how people think it's cute that you asked her first. Well, of COURSE you asked *her* to be the first cast member. If she'd said no, you wouldn't have worked things out so that you could act in it. But *she* said yes, so that's why you're here, ready to film an actual scene with her, the first of the series, in a friend of a friend's apartment in the city.
You try to breathe while you wait, pacing back and forth through the room. There's not a lot of equipment or wires or people to worry about. It'll be easy to get into the scene. *The* scene. The one all those internet people are going to freak out about. The scene that will be everything that you couldn't do on the show. The scene that has been running through your mind since, what, March? Since you filmed the scenes where your characters confessed they loved each other.
You swallow again, wiping your hands against your pajama pants.
The door to the bathroom opens and *she* steps out, wearing just a light blue tank top and grey cotton shorts. Smiling. Dimples on display. Looking gorgeous, despite just having given birth.
"Ready?" she asks, still smiling.
"As I'll ever be," you reply, even though you still think you're about to throw up thanks to the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You roll your eyes at yourself because you just compared your real-life situation to your other character's situation. Again. Art and life are getting too complex and intertwined.
And then you're climbing into the bed together, pulling blankets up. You're on the right and she's on the left and then you get asked to switch sides. You sit up to get out of bed and walk around it and she laughs at you, pulling you back down. She smiles at you as she actually straddles you for an instant while moving across you to your other side. You briefly wonder if *this* is how you were supposed to react when you were supposed to portay someone with a heart condition.
"Action!" comes the call and, dammit, you know you're supposed to be an actor and you know that you're supposed to be able to turn off your personal emotions and actually take on another persona, but the show's almost over and you're so close to basically never seeing her anymore and dear God, she's so gorgeous when she's looking at you like that.
"Don't go," she says, just barely above a whisper, her right hand reaching out to stroke your left arm.
Right. Acting. You should know how to do this. "I have to. You know I do," you rumble back, your voice thicker with emotion than you'd intended when you'd rehearsed this earlier.
"You don't have to go back," she says, her hand sliding up and cupping your cheek.
You close your eyes and feel her thumb across your lips. You just barely part them and she shifts and it's her forefinger that traces your lips. Just going with the moment, you snag her fingertip in your teeth and brush your tongue lightly across it before releasing it to her. You open your eyes and see hers are closed and you don't know if it's real or if she's acting, but you know you should appear slightly victorious for the camera, at any rate, so you paste your best smirk on your face.
"Sweetheart, you've got to let me go," you tell her, "because you know this doesn't work long-term."
Her eyes open and she's looking at you as if she's suddenly realized that these words work for you in real life as well as this little series. "Whose fault is that?" she says, sounding sadder than she did when you ran lines the other week.
"Mine," you say, because it is. You took the job out west, and you have to go. You almost laugh because your new character's just as fucked up as you are. There are some definite parallels.
"And there's nothing, *nothing* I can do to convince you to stay?" she asks in a tone and with a look that makes you sincerely believe she would do damn near anything to keep you here in the city. With her. For real.
You take a breath, because here it comes.
"Beautiful," you say, "if anyone was going to be able to convince me to do anything at all, it would be you." And then you lean over, your left index finger brushing a few strands of hair back behind her ear. Slowly, carefully, you move towards her. Those gorgeous lips that have tempted you for months. Somewhere along the way, it wasn't just your character who wanted hers, it was you who wanted her. And until that moment, you always, always thought it was just you.
The instant your lips touch, that perception changes. It's electric. It's so different from that first kiss. Well, those two takes of the big kissing scene you had in that cramped farmhouse set with too many cameramen and too much of an audience. And the kiss was so staged, so obviously done for shock value and not out of intimacy between the characters. Those scenes were awkward and clinical and before you'd both suffered through nine months of longing between the characters. It was before the show had been cancelled, before you'd taken another job on the other coast. This kiss blows those out of the water. You're kissing for a camera again, but you don't care that it's there. You're falling into this kiss and one of her hands is in your hair and the other is on your waist and is it just you or is it really, really hot in the room all of a sudden? She's pulling you closer and it's just so amazing to realize that she's taking charge and getting into this. But that's definitely what she's doing and then your tongues are fighting and you find yourself wondering if *this* is the chemistry that everyone sees on their televisions.
You pull away for an instant and you both open your eyes. Her dark eyes lock with your green ones and you try to figure out what you see in her gaze. Keeping eye contact, you move closer and suck gently on her lower lip. She whimpers quietly.
"And cut! Great work, ladies, nailed it on the first take!"
The looks in your eyes change as soon as you hear the command. Desire turns to panic and you push apart and both sit up, just a second later than you should have.
They start to set up the next shot, which is supposed to have you get out of bed and walk over to stare out the window, contemplating how fucked up you are, and she's supposed to follow you and hold you from behind, so you have a couple of minutes to yourselves.
"And that's why they won't let us kiss on the show," you quip, hoping to ease the tension with a joke.
She smiles at you, but it's not a real smile. There's just barely the hint of a dimple. "I wasn't expecting that," she says, quietly, looking down, playing absently with the bedsheets.
"Me either," you admit.
"Should we... you know, talk about it?" she asks.
You look up and glance at her. She's not looking at you, she's still staring intently at the blanket on the bed. You swallow. You have everything waiting for you in California. And her entire life is here in New York. "Nope," you say.
She looks at you, then. "No? But... what about... us?" she almost whispers.
You shake your head. "There is no us," you reply. You see the hurt in her eyes at your words. "We can't do anything about this."
She gives you a look that you know very well. The eyebrow arched just so, her mouth set in that particular position. It's her "you have got to be kidding me" look.
The second scene is about ready to be filmed and you notice people walking around your side of the room, adjusting a couple of lights, and remember you're really not alone. "Remember the gazebo? After the non-wedding?" you say. At her hesitation, you add, "After the groom comes by."
She looks at you strangely and nods.
"Same thing," you say, sadly, trying to communicate to her that even if there was something there, even if she were as willing as you, nothing could come of it, that she'd resent you for ripping her out of her comfortable, happy life.
She sits there for a moment, processing your words, remembering the scene and how it's applicable to you both at the moment.
"Okay, you two, cuddle back up so we can get the walk to the window, all right?"
You both nod and curl up together again and, as you try to snuggle without snuggling too much, she whispers just three words in your ear that send you reeling with their implications.
"The school scene."
"And action!"
Title: Action!
Author: brinshannara
Rating: PG-13?
Fandom: GL (CC/JL) (RPS)
Summary: Set during the filming of their new webseries.
Author's Note: This is entirely ripptyd's fault. No disrespect meant to two phenomenal actors. This is my first (and hopefully only!) foray into RPF/S, but it just needed to be done. Really still blaming ripptyd. Quite a lot.
You swallow nervously. Your palms are sweaty, all of a sudden. Which is ridiculous. Aren't you supposed to be a professional? And anyway, why should you be nervous about this? It's just a kiss. And hey, it's not like you haven't kissed before or anything. Right?
'But,' you think to yourself, 'this is my series, not the show. This is my series and I'm involved in the creative process, the casting, everything.' Hell, it was all your idea, wasn't it?
And, sooner or later, you worry, everyone's going to figure out that this whole series is just an excuse to do what you're about to do. How stupid are you, anyways? This is far, *far* too transparent to actually work.
You almost chuckle, thinking about how this project came to be and how people think it's cute that you asked her first. Well, of COURSE you asked *her* to be the first cast member. If she'd said no, you wouldn't have worked things out so that you could act in it. But *she* said yes, so that's why you're here, ready to film an actual scene with her, the first of the series, in a friend of a friend's apartment in the city.
You try to breathe while you wait, pacing back and forth through the room. There's not a lot of equipment or wires or people to worry about. It'll be easy to get into the scene. *The* scene. The one all those internet people are going to freak out about. The scene that will be everything that you couldn't do on the show. The scene that has been running through your mind since, what, March? Since you filmed the scenes where your characters confessed they loved each other.
You swallow again, wiping your hands against your pajama pants.
The door to the bathroom opens and *she* steps out, wearing just a light blue tank top and grey cotton shorts. Smiling. Dimples on display. Looking gorgeous, despite just having given birth.
"Ready?" she asks, still smiling.
"As I'll ever be," you reply, even though you still think you're about to throw up thanks to the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You roll your eyes at yourself because you just compared your real-life situation to your other character's situation. Again. Art and life are getting too complex and intertwined.
And then you're climbing into the bed together, pulling blankets up. You're on the right and she's on the left and then you get asked to switch sides. You sit up to get out of bed and walk around it and she laughs at you, pulling you back down. She smiles at you as she actually straddles you for an instant while moving across you to your other side. You briefly wonder if *this* is how you were supposed to react when you were supposed to portay someone with a heart condition.
"Action!" comes the call and, dammit, you know you're supposed to be an actor and you know that you're supposed to be able to turn off your personal emotions and actually take on another persona, but the show's almost over and you're so close to basically never seeing her anymore and dear God, she's so gorgeous when she's looking at you like that.
"Don't go," she says, just barely above a whisper, her right hand reaching out to stroke your left arm.
Right. Acting. You should know how to do this. "I have to. You know I do," you rumble back, your voice thicker with emotion than you'd intended when you'd rehearsed this earlier.
"You don't have to go back," she says, her hand sliding up and cupping your cheek.
You close your eyes and feel her thumb across your lips. You just barely part them and she shifts and it's her forefinger that traces your lips. Just going with the moment, you snag her fingertip in your teeth and brush your tongue lightly across it before releasing it to her. You open your eyes and see hers are closed and you don't know if it's real or if she's acting, but you know you should appear slightly victorious for the camera, at any rate, so you paste your best smirk on your face.
"Sweetheart, you've got to let me go," you tell her, "because you know this doesn't work long-term."
Her eyes open and she's looking at you as if she's suddenly realized that these words work for you in real life as well as this little series. "Whose fault is that?" she says, sounding sadder than she did when you ran lines the other week.
"Mine," you say, because it is. You took the job out west, and you have to go. You almost laugh because your new character's just as fucked up as you are. There are some definite parallels.
"And there's nothing, *nothing* I can do to convince you to stay?" she asks in a tone and with a look that makes you sincerely believe she would do damn near anything to keep you here in the city. With her. For real.
You take a breath, because here it comes.
"Beautiful," you say, "if anyone was going to be able to convince me to do anything at all, it would be you." And then you lean over, your left index finger brushing a few strands of hair back behind her ear. Slowly, carefully, you move towards her. Those gorgeous lips that have tempted you for months. Somewhere along the way, it wasn't just your character who wanted hers, it was you who wanted her. And until that moment, you always, always thought it was just you.
The instant your lips touch, that perception changes. It's electric. It's so different from that first kiss. Well, those two takes of the big kissing scene you had in that cramped farmhouse set with too many cameramen and too much of an audience. And the kiss was so staged, so obviously done for shock value and not out of intimacy between the characters. Those scenes were awkward and clinical and before you'd both suffered through nine months of longing between the characters. It was before the show had been cancelled, before you'd taken another job on the other coast. This kiss blows those out of the water. You're kissing for a camera again, but you don't care that it's there. You're falling into this kiss and one of her hands is in your hair and the other is on your waist and is it just you or is it really, really hot in the room all of a sudden? She's pulling you closer and it's just so amazing to realize that she's taking charge and getting into this. But that's definitely what she's doing and then your tongues are fighting and you find yourself wondering if *this* is the chemistry that everyone sees on their televisions.
You pull away for an instant and you both open your eyes. Her dark eyes lock with your green ones and you try to figure out what you see in her gaze. Keeping eye contact, you move closer and suck gently on her lower lip. She whimpers quietly.
"And cut! Great work, ladies, nailed it on the first take!"
The looks in your eyes change as soon as you hear the command. Desire turns to panic and you push apart and both sit up, just a second later than you should have.
They start to set up the next shot, which is supposed to have you get out of bed and walk over to stare out the window, contemplating how fucked up you are, and she's supposed to follow you and hold you from behind, so you have a couple of minutes to yourselves.
"And that's why they won't let us kiss on the show," you quip, hoping to ease the tension with a joke.
She smiles at you, but it's not a real smile. There's just barely the hint of a dimple. "I wasn't expecting that," she says, quietly, looking down, playing absently with the bedsheets.
"Me either," you admit.
"Should we... you know, talk about it?" she asks.
You look up and glance at her. She's not looking at you, she's still staring intently at the blanket on the bed. You swallow. You have everything waiting for you in California. And her entire life is here in New York. "Nope," you say.
She looks at you, then. "No? But... what about... us?" she almost whispers.
You shake your head. "There is no us," you reply. You see the hurt in her eyes at your words. "We can't do anything about this."
She gives you a look that you know very well. The eyebrow arched just so, her mouth set in that particular position. It's her "you have got to be kidding me" look.
The second scene is about ready to be filmed and you notice people walking around your side of the room, adjusting a couple of lights, and remember you're really not alone. "Remember the gazebo? After the non-wedding?" you say. At her hesitation, you add, "After the groom comes by."
She looks at you strangely and nods.
"Same thing," you say, sadly, trying to communicate to her that even if there was something there, even if she were as willing as you, nothing could come of it, that she'd resent you for ripping her out of her comfortable, happy life.
She sits there for a moment, processing your words, remembering the scene and how it's applicable to you both at the moment.
"Okay, you two, cuddle back up so we can get the walk to the window, all right?"
You both nod and curl up together again and, as you try to snuggle without snuggling too much, she whispers just three words in your ear that send you reeling with their implications.
"The school scene."
"And action!"