Fic: Stage Fright by lamardeuse, Part 1 of 2
Title: Stage Fright
Author: lamardeuse
Pairing: Lorne/Parrish
Rating: NC-17
Vetted by: 20thcenturyvole
Betad by: reginagiraffe
Warnings: None
Author’s Notes: Inspired by mklutz’s amazing DVD cover.
Summary: David looked in the mirror and squared his shoulders. “David Parrish, porn star,” he intoned. When his reflection promptly turned green, David spun sideways and dropped to his knees, barely lifting the toilet lid in time.
Stage Fright
by lamardeuse
“Okay, David,” Laura Cadman said encouragingly, leaning forward across her desk, “suppose you tell us why you want to be a porn star.”
David Parrish stared at her, his mouth working soundlessly for a few moments, and Laura's smile remained frozen on her face as she contemplated whether or not he'd been dropped on his head as a baby. The guy Katie Brown had insisted was the Next Big Thing wasn't anything like she'd been expecting. Sure, he was hot, if you liked big, gangly, Jimmy Stewart types. Parrish was tall - six two if he was an inch - and he was blond, with broad shoulders and a kind, open face you could easily fall into. He was also more nervous than a sackful of cats at a dog show, and he looked like he might puke any second. In the three minutes he'd been in her office, he'd broken her coffee cup and knocked her desk caddy onto the floor, spilling pens and paperclips everywhere. If he was like this on the set, there was a real risk his costar could lose an important body part.
But Katie had sworn up and down that he had real potential, and Laura wasn't averse to trying something new. Besides, the sweet, goofy types had their appeal, especially when paired with a bad boy. And Katie already had just the bad boy in mind.
“I, um,” Parrish finally managed, staring at his hands, “to be honest with you, I need the money. I'm working on my dissertation, and the grants have dried up. Botany isn't exactly one of the more flashy sciences, so it doesn't - ”
“I'm sorry,” Laura interrupted, “did you say botany?”
Parrish's gaze rose. “Yes, that's the study of - ”
Laura held up a hand. “Yeah, I know what it's the study of, thanks.” This guy was a Ph.D. student in botany? Lord love a duck, some of the guys who appeared before their cameras couldn't spell botany.
“I'm sorry,” Parrish murmured. “I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just a little nervous, and I tend to babble when I'm nervous.”
Laura smiled again. “There's nothing to be nervous about,” she said, trying to be reassuring. “Nothing's been decided yet; we're just having a nice little chat. I'm only surprised that someone with your - ah, background - is interested in this line of work, even for the money.”
Parrish shifted in his seat. “Well, the way I see it, this is the quickest way to finance my education. I'm only interested in it for that.”
“O-kay,” Laura said, blowing out a breath. Really, Katie was going to owe her for this one. “Listen, why don't we start with a kind of screen test?” When Parrish's eyes widened, Laura added, “Clothes on, and we'll pay you for your time.”
Parrish did a short fish impersonation before stammering, “W-with whom would I be - ah, pairing?”
Laura smiled. “His name is Evan Lorne. He's one of our bright new lights, just signed to an exclusive contract with GPFG.”
“Oh, yes, I - ah, that is, I've heard of him.” Parrish's cheeks, Laura noted, were ever so slightly pink. It was a good look on him. She wasn't usually big on script ideas, but she started getting some marvelous, evil ideas in her head that she'd have to run by Kate at the earliest opportunity.
“Great,” Laura said, grinning. “Maybe someday people will be saying the same of you.”
Evan Lorne was having one of his shittier days. He'd been up too late again last night, and he knew he was going to catch hell from the makeup diva when he reported, and she'd make him stick those cucumbers under his eyes. Fuck, he hated that.
“Oh, Evan, there you are.” Evan tensed when he heard the musical lilt of Elizabeth's voice. When Elizabeth got lilty, someone was in trouble, and it was usually him. “I thought your call time was ten.”
“Um, yeah,” Evan said, hanging his leather jacket on the back of his chair and turning to face her. “I went out for a smoke.”
Elizabeth's nose wrinkled slightly. “Didn't you say you quit last week?”
Evan closed his eyes briefly. “I, uh, I had a relapse.”
“Mm-hmm,” Elizabeth said, and the only thing worse than lilty Elizabeth was non-verbal Elizabeth. “Well, never mind; I have someone for you to meet. Katie found him, and we're not one hundred percent sure he's going to work out, so we've decided to do a short screen test with the two of you.”
Evan grinned ferally. Fresh meat; his day was suddenly looking up.
“Clothes on,” Elizabeth said firmly.
Evan's face fell. “What? Why?”
“Because he's never been in front of a camera before, let alone naked. He's pretty nervous.”
Evan sighed. “Great.” The last thing he needed today was some nervous nelly who didn't know his dick from his elbow, or worse, Evan's dick from his elbow. Just because Sheppard and McKay were the Brad and Angelina of this outfit, that didn't mean that Evan should take all the shit jobs. He was about to open his mouth to say as much when he walked around the set backdrop -
- and collided head-on with a big, solid wall.
“Jesus!” Evan exclaimed, arms windmilling as he started to keel over backwards. This was great, this was just perfect, he was going to land flat on his ass, and he needed his ass, he was going to lose money if he got it all bruised and gross-looking. He was just beginning to fall when strong hands latched onto his shoulders and hauled him up again, and the next thing he knew, Evan was being cradled close against a warm body, snug and sound.
“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry.” Evan looked up into a pair of the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, wide with concern. He blinked a couple of times, stupidly, and then realized he was practically reclining in this guy’s arms like some fainting Victorian maiden. Grabbing onto the guy’s shoulders, he hauled himself upright, and whoa, the guy was still really tall.
“Evan Lorne, meet David Parrish,” Elizabeth said, and Evan didn’t have to be looking at her to know she was smirking. Oh, wonderful. This clumsy giraffe was the new guy?
Taking a step back, Evan extended his hand, which was quickly enclosed in a warm, firm grip. “Pleased to meetcha,” Evan said, sliding into his best come-hither smirk.
The guy turned beet red. “It’s a pleasure, really,” he breathed, nodding almost frantically.
Evan turned the grin up another three notches, then watched as a fine sheen of sweat popped out on the guy’s brow. Leaning in, he murmured, “It’s not now. But it will be soon.”
David looked in the dressing room mirror and squared his shoulders. “David Parrish, porn star,” he intoned at his reflection. When his reflection promptly turned green, he spun sideways and dropped to his knees, barely lifting the toilet lid in time.
“Oh, God,” he groaned, resting his forehead briefly against the cool porcelain before staggering to his feet and reaching for the bottle of mouthwash. This was going to be a disaster.
“Okay, let's just keep this loose, fellas,” Sam Carter said. The script was a short, simple seduction scene, stopping before things got too hot, since the main goal of the afternoon was to see if this Parrish guy could come across on film. Sure, he was hot, tall and broad-shouldered, with an open, wholesome face, but if Sam had a dime for every handsome guy who'd turned out to be a nothing once the cameras rolled, she could retire to Hawaii.
One thing was certain: if David Parrish had a spark of on-screen sex appeal, Evan Lorne could fan it into the Chicago fire. Signing Lorne to that contract was one of the smartest things Elizabeth had done in a while; the man was sex on legs, and versatile to boot. There were times when Sam thought that the experienced star came across a little too practiced, but that was a minor flaw as far as this business was concerned. Lorne still had enough rough edges to him to appear unpredictable, and it was that quality that appealed to GPFG's target audience.
Today, to keep Parrish as close to his comfort zone as possible, they were going with a tried and true scenario; the classroom seduction. Parrish was a good head taller than Lorne, so some of the mechanics would be a little trickier, but they weren't planning anything complicated. Lorne was to be the naughty college student in for extra lessons with the professor; while the professor's back was turned, Lorne would sneak up behind him and wrap his arms around Parrish from behind, then turn him around and shove him against the desk. Parrish would fall back onto his elbows and Lorne would be on him like a limpet, straddling him and kissing him. A little necking, a little clothed petting, then a fade to black. Boring, but easy enough.
She looked from Parrish to Lorne. Both men were in costume, Lorne in ripped jeans and a black t-shirt that molded to every curve of his rather delicious muscles, and Parrish in a lab coat over a jacket and tie that wardrobe had dug out of the back of some closet or other. Lorne was completely at ease, arms lazily swinging back and forth, while Parrish was sweating so much he looked like he might melt. “Uh,” Sam said, “David, are you gonna make it?”
“Oh, certainly, certainly,” Parrish assured her, though his tense, reed-thin voice did not reassure her in the least. “I know what to do.”
Lorne waggled his eyebrows at her. “Me, too.”
Sam crossed her arms, unconvinced. “Remember, David, you've been thinking about Evan for a long time. You're convinced, though, that a relationship would be unprofessional, so I want to see some reluctance when he first approaches you. Make him work for it.” David nodded nervously, and Sam was dismayed to see his cheeks turn bright pink.
Lorne flipped a hand. “Yeah, he blushed when Kate went over the scenes with him, too. She's been over our motivations and everything, so I think we're good.”
Sam resisted the urge to roll her eyes skyward. Evan was still settling into GPFG's way of doing things. For him, plot in a porn movie was about as useful as tits on a bull, but he'd go along with it as long as he was being paid. “All right, then, let's just see what happens, shall we?”
“And - action!”
Lindsey Novak started with a close shot of David Parrish's hand as it held a piece of chalk against a blackboard. She drew back slowly, revealing Parrish's lab coat, then his face. Parrish had a good, strong profile; he looked like he'd stepped right out of a cornfield in the middle of the hailstone and sarsaparilla belt. She just had enough time to think that their Midwestern viewers were going to love him before he sucked in a great lungful of air and sneezed all over her camera lens.
“Cut!”
“Oh, my, I - I'm - ah - ah - ” Lindsey took a quick step back in time to escape another sneeze and nearly stumbled over Lorne's spread legs. He gripped her arm, steadying her, and she shot him a look of thanks.
“I'm so sorry,” Parrish finally managed, reaching into his pocket for a Kleenex. “It's only that - I'm allergic to chalk.”
“You're allergic to chalk?” Lorne asked incredulously. “But you're a botanist, right? How come you haven't died from pollen allergies by now?”
“I'm not allergic to pollen,” Parrish said primly, “only chalk.”
“Okay,” Sam said, passing a hand over her eyes. “From now on, could you please make us aware in advance of any medical conditions that may screw up takes?”
“Yes, certainly. I just didn't think it would affect me this mu-mu-muchoooo - ”
“Evan, sweetheart,” Sam sighed, “would you mind taking away David’s chalk before we have to get Carson in here with an Epipen?”
The second take, David mimed writing on the chalkboard. It looked stupid, but at least no one was in danger of dying. Lindsey pulled back, then panned slowly to show Evan sprawled in his chair. Not for the first time, it struck her that he was a pretty, pretty man. The camera didn't just love him, it wanted to hump his leg.
Lorne was sporting his best naughty-boy expression, the one that said I'm about to fuck with you. That quickly slid into his I'm about to fuck you look as he pushed himself out of the chair and ambled over to the oblivious Professor. With the lithe grace of a dangerous jungle cat, Lorne slipped up behind him and pressed against his back -
- and Parrish promptly startled and elbowed him in the ribs.
“Cut!” yelled Sam.
The third time, they almost made it.
Lorne had successfully maneuvered Parrish over to the wide oak desk and had shoved him down on it, and now he was straddling him.
“M-Michael,” Parrish stammered - he had cornered the market on stammering (not to mention blushing and trembling) - “I d-don't think you know what you're doing.”
“Oh, you're wrong, Professor,” Evan said, smirking his very best smirk as he lowered his mouth to Parrish's, “I know exactly what I'm doing.” While Parrish stared up at him with wide, terrified eyes, Lorne caught Parrish's lower lip between his own and tugged at it gently, soothing it with a teasing brush of his tongue. He pulled back briefly to observe his handiwork with characteristic smugness.
Parrish's eyes closed and he groaned helplessly, then he slid one big hand into Lorne's hair and drew him down, bringing their mouths together with something just short of violence.
Holy shit, thought Lindsey. That hadn't been in the script.
She was close enough to pick up Lorne's brief moment of resistance, as though he expected Sam to end the scene, and then he just kind of...well, melted. Lindsey wasn't sure, because she'd seen Evan cocky, arrogant, and aggressive, but she'd never seen him surrender. That sure as hell seemed to be what was happening, though, because Parrish was still holding him in place with that bear paw of his and Lorne was going right with it, draping over Parrish's long body like a blanket and opening his mouth for Parrish's hungry exploration. And a hungry Parrish was another surprise; he'd been so self-conscious and painfully aware of the camera a minute ago, and now he seemed to have completely forgotten it was there.
They broke apart, panting, Lorne mussed and at a loss for words, another new look for him. And then Lindsey realized his next line, which was supposed to be smartassed, had been completely blown by Parrish's taking over the kiss. Parrish, for his part, didn't seem too worried about it; he looked up at Evan with something approaching worship, then cupped his face tenderly and brushed a thumb across his mouth. Lorne's eyelids drooped, and his lips parted on an indrawn breath.
“You're so beautiful,” Parrish murmured wonderingly, and that wasn't in the script either, but man, it worked for her.
Unfortunately, it didn't work for Lorne. As soon as the words were out of Parrish's mouth, he stiffened and straightened, breaking the contact with Parrish's caressing hand. Green eyes flashing, he turned and glared at Sam.
“Just how much do we have to fuck up a scene before you call 'cut', anyway?” he growled.
Lindsey could hear Sam grit her teeth from across the room. “Just that much,” she snapped. “Cut.”
“I wasn't imagining it, was I?”
Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers, tearing her gaze away from the now-blank TV screen to look at Sam. “No, you didn't imagine it,” she agreed. “They have great chemistry.”
“And that's also the best performance I've seen so far out of Evan,” Kate Heightmeyer, GPFG's acting coach, added.
“And they're damned pretty together,” Lindsey sighed.
Teyla folded her arms. “Too bad it only lasted forty-five seconds.”
Elizabeth smiled; you could always trust Teyla to look on the bright side. “I think Parrish might respond to more coaching, don't you?”
“I'm sure he would,” Kate said. “I can start working with him tomorrow morning, if you like.”
“In the meantime, we need a new script.” She looked at Teyla. “What do you think?”
Teyla shook her head. “I don't think I'll have the time. I'm working on that new one for John and Rodney, and I can't get them out of my head.”
“Isn't that a Kylie Minogue song?” Laura asked sweetly. Teyla stuck her tongue out at her playfully.
“The problem is finding a script that's right for them,” Sam said. “This one sure as hell wasn't.”
“I, uh - ” Elizabeth turned to Laura, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. “I might have this idea.”
“For a script?”
Laura practically squirmed in her seat. “I know it’s outside my job description...”
Elizabeth shook her head. “We’ve always been pretty flexible on the job descriptions; you know that.”
Laura flapped a hand. “Well, something kind of clicked with me this morning when I was interviewing Parrish, and it’s clicked even more now that I’ve seen him in action with Lorne. Let me work on it tonight and give you a few pages tomorrow?”
“Sounds good,” Elizabeth replied, smiling. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve come up with.”
Laura blew out a breath. “No pressure. Great.”
“David, I know you’re in there! Open the door!” Katie’s fist slammed against the door a few more times, the noise reverberating through the halls of David’s apartment building.
“I’m trying to sleep!” David finally shouted back.
“It’s not even nine-thirty! Open the door, David, or I will make a - a nuisance of myself!”
Katie heard the sound of footsteps approaching and deadbolts being thrown before the door opened to reveal her friend. “Dear Lord, anything but a nuisance,” he said dryly. “I’m trembling in terror and disgust.”
“Oh, shut up,” Katie snapped, elbowing past him into his apartment. “What is the matter with you? When Elizabeth came back from the meeting, you were gone! Didn’t I tell you to wait?”
David flopped down onto the couch and rested his elbows on his knees. “In case you haven’t noticed in the eleven years we’ve known one another, I’ve never been terribly good at dealing with rejection.”
Katie threw up her hands. “What rejection? They loved you! They want you back tomorrow! Laura Cadman is writing you your own script!”
David stared at her, and Katie could swear that some of that terror he’d just been talking about was in his eyes. “Wh-what?”
Katie sat down beside him and patted his knee in a sisterly fashion. “They thought you had great chemistry with Evan Lorne. They want you to star in a picture together.”
David blinked at her a few times, and Katie began to get nervous. This was a lot like the time David had been up in front of the class his junior year in high school to do that presentation on prehistoric ferns. He’d managed three sentences before he’d bolted out of the room and puked.
“I - I can’t,” David whispered, face now ashen. “I - he hated me.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Katie said, putting an arm around as much of his back as she could reach, “I’m sure he didn’t hate you. I didn’t see the tape, but everyone said the two of you burned up the screen.”
“I thought we did,” David said morosely, “until I told him he was beautiful.”
Katie frowned. “If it was in the script - ”
“It wasn’t in the script.” David sighed. “I kind of - forgot where I was for a minute.” He stared at his hands. “God, I’m far too old to be a stalker, but that's just what I am, isn't it?”
“What are you talking about?” Katie asked, genuinely perplexed.
David shot her a doe-eyed glance of such abject despair that her heart skipped a beat. “David, sweetheart, what's wrong? Tell me.”
“I lied to you,” he blurted, wringing his hands. “I applied to be a porn star under false pretences.”
Katie stared at him. “You do realize that statement requires an explanation, don't you?”
Groaning, David buried his face in his hands.
“Fuck, you're hot. Can I suck you?”
Evan smiled at the twink who had just delivered a line straight out of a porn movie. That was one of the annoying things about twinks, he decided, and why it was best to find another way to keep their mouths occupied. Spreading his hands, he drawled, “Knock yourself out.”
The twink dropped to his knees in a parody of supplicaton and Evan leaned his head back against the wall so he wouldn't have to look at him. It wasn't like he hadn't noticed it was getting harder and harder to summon up the same - uh, enthusiasm - he'd once had for back room blow jobs and quick, dirty fucks. For a while, his reputation as a semi-well-known porn star had gotten him all kinds of action, not that he'd ever been hurting for attention. But lately, while the supply of eager young mouths hadn't abated, his interest in the club scene had been on the wane. Last week he'd found himself wandering around the fine art museum, for Christ's sake, and he hadn't been there since - well. A hell of a long time.
The twink wasn't much on finesse, just got right down to sucking in earnest. Evan stared straight ahead and imagined another mouth on him, one that was broad and full-lipped, imagined sympathetic blue eyes gazing up at him with an intensity that stole his breath.
Gritting his teeth, Evan banished the thought. No. No. No way was he into that clumsy, overgrown farm boy. So what if he kissed like he was taking a piece of your goddamn soul from you and handing it back to you in the next heartbeat? Evan wasn't into mush and flowers and guys telling you you were beautiful. Who even said that outside of some chick romance novel? And he didn't like being manhandled; he was a top, goddammit. Anyone who watched his pictures knew that, and just because this guy was big and stronger than he looked and held Evan like he was some kind of fucking treasure, that didn't mean he had to like it. Just because his hands were huge and square and you got hard when you realized it was going to take all your strength to push him away, and maybe even then you wouldn't get free -
Groaning, Evan arched his hips, pumped once, twice, and came.
“Jesus!” the twink exclaimed, pulling off and spitting on the floor. “Give a guy a little warning next time, willya?”
Head still resting against the wall, Evan zipped up without looking down. “Let's face it, kid,” he murmured. “There isn't gonna be a next time.”
“So let me see if I understand what you're saying,” Katie said slowly. “You don't usually watch porn.”
David nodded. “I know it sounds foolish, but yes.”
“All right. Let's assume that's possible - and you're about the only person I'd believe when they said something like that - but fine, let's assume it. Then you finally see a porn movie a couple of months ago that happens to be starring Evan Lorne.”
David tried not to blush. “Yes.”
“And from this porn movie, of which you have very little experience, you think you're in love with him.”
“Not think. I know.”
“David...” Katie said warningly.
David sighed. “Please don't ask me to explain, because I can't.” What was the point? She was his best friend, understood him as well as anyone, and yet to ask her to understand his obsession with Evan Lorne was too much to ask of even their friendship. Until he'd held him in his arms, he hadn't understood it himself.
“Oh, sweetie,” Katie murmured, her hand on his arm bringing him back to the present. “Listen, you don't know Evan like I do. He's - well, I don't see him falling in love with anyone. I'm afraid you're going to get hurt.”
David ignored the small voice of reason in his head that agreed with her. Shaking his head, he said firmly, “Everyone wants to fall in love. It's just that some of us don't think we deserve it.”
“Major Eric Adept and Dr. Devon Perilla,” Elizabeth said slowly, her gaze fixed on the script. Across the desk, Laura resisted the urge to chew her own leg off in anticipation.
“I can change the names if you don’t like them,” Laura blurted. She’d intended to fire off a few pages for Elizabeth’s perusal, but had ended up with a finished rough draft after spending the whole night working on it. This writing thing was addictive; she’d started right after supper, and the next time she’d looked at the clock it had been two in the morning. She wasn’t sure, but she thought maybe she was on her fifteenth cup of coffee.
Elizabeth smiled slightly, still not taking her eyes off the script. “The names are fine.”
“Remember, this is just a preliminary draft, and I - ”
Elizabeth did look up then. “Laura, would you rather wait in your office while I read this?”
Laura gripped the arms of the chair. “No, I’m good. I’ll just let you - read.”
Nodding, Elizabeth returned her attention to the script. Laura sat, nails digging into the soft fabric of the chair, while Elizabeth flipped pages. The seconds stretched into minutes stretched into centuries.
“Oh, my,” Elizabeth said under her breath. Every muscle in Laura’s body tensed. “Oh, my.” Laura opened her mouth to ask if that was a good oh, my or a bad one, but then she saw that Elizabeth’s cheeks were stained pink.
Good oh, my, then. Laura’s grip eased on the chair.
After what seemed like an eternity, Elizabeth looked up from the script. “This will definitely work. If Parrish can pull it off.”
Laura considered this. “You know, I think he can. There’s something in the way he acts with Evan - there’s more there than meets the eye. That’s what inspired me.” She rubbed at the back of her neck. “What worries me is Evan.”
“He’s a pro.”
“Yeah, but he’s always the top. I don’t think he’s going to take well to having the tables turned on him.”
This time it was Elizabeth’s turn to consider. “Well. I suppose we could find someone else for the role if we had to - but I don’t want to have to. Those boys are just going to have to figure out a way to get along.”
Laura smiled. “Or you’ll make them.”
Elizabeth returned the smile, but hers had a razor edge. “Or I’ll...persuade them.”
Sometimes Laura really loved her job; it was good to know that Elizabeth did, too.
“No. No way.”
“Evan, darling - ”
“Don't try to sweet talk me, Elizabeth. You're trying to fuck with my image, and I won't let you do it.”
Elizabeth rested her elbows on her desk and leaned forward. “And how am I doing that, exactly?”
“This part calls for a bottom. I'm not a bottom. I never have been and I never will be.”
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “Never?”
Evan shook his head firmly. “Never, and you know it. That's one of the reasons you hired me.”
Elizabeth cocked her head. “I hired you for many reasons, but I don't recall that being one of them. You appeal to men - and women - as a tough, sexy man. A bottom can be just as tough as a top, and certainly as sexy.”
Evan opened his mouth to argue, but Elizabeth cut him off. “Ultimately, we won't force you to do anything you're not comfortable with. All I ask is that you keep an open mind, and give it a try. Sam is filming the script in sequence since David is inexperienced; she wants him to ease into the character - and the explicit scenes - gradually. You'll have plenty of time to decide if this is something you can do.”
Elizabeth had the great satisfaction of seeing Evan bristle. “It's not that I can't handle it - ”
She treated him to her most professional smile. “Of course you can handle it. That's not in doubt.”
Evan frowned. “Then - ”
Elizabeth stood, ending the meeting right at the point when he was teetering on one foot. “Thank you so much for your input on this project. I want you to feel free to come to me with any of your concerns.”
Evan rubbed at his neck, his thin-lipped smile telling her he knew he was being railroaded but didn't have a damned clue what to do about it. “Yeah. Anytime.”
As set designer, Katie usually didn't need to be on set during rehearsals and filming, but Sam had requested she be there as much as possible for 'moral support', and she couldn't turn the director down. Now that she knew David's secret, she worried that her presence would only make him more nervous, but she couldn't exactly tell Sam that.
Prep work on this film had been mercifully brief, since they were reusing the sets and props from Sheppard and McKay's sci-fi series. As a result, Katie had had very little to do, which had given her plenty of time to hold David's hand through the costume fittings and the makeup tests. God knew that was a full-time job, for David was now convinced that this was easily the stupidest thing he'd ever done and was one step away from bolting every time Evan Lorne so much as looked his way. Lorne had made it fairly clear that he was displeased with the new script, and was barely tolerating his new co-star; if he wasn't openly hostile toward David, neither was he in any way friendly.
“God, he really does hate me,” David groaned in his dressing room after one particularly rough rehearsal.
“Sweetie, he was acting,” Katie soothed, trying to sound convincing. “It's not necessarily the way he feels about you.” The script was interesting, bringing together a closeted Air Force major used to anonymous couplings and a young scientist who was determined to break through his hard-bitten exterior to the man underneath. It had the potential to be compelling as well as hot, but so far Evan and David hadn't managed to recapture the spark they'd ignited in the screen test. “Eric has to push Devon away at first, because he doesn't know what his motives are. Once he knows Devon's on the level, he'll open up to him.”
“But I'm not on the level!” wailed David, head in his hands. “I'm as much of a creepy stalker as Evan - Eric - thinks I am!”
Katie shook her head. “Stop it. You're not a stalker. Well - ” David lifted his head and stared at her “ - not a creepy stalker.”
David ran both hands through his hair. “Oh, God. Please kill me now.”
“Okay, this isn't working,” Sam sighed.
Evan leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, trying not to let the surge of triumph show on his face.
“And you,” Sam shot at him, “don't look so smug over there.”
Evan straightened. “Look, what do you want me to do? The guy's not an actor, and he's sure as hell not a porn star.”
Sam's look turned considering. “You've been jonesing for him to fall on his ass as soon as you read that script, haven't you?”
Evan frowned and tried to look sincere. “Of course not! Why would I do that?”
Sam only lifted an eyebrow.
“Fine,” Evan muttered, looking at his hands. “Maybe a little.” His gaze rose to meet hers. “I don't like the script, okay? I don't think it's good for my career.”
Sam regarded him calmly. “How old are you, Evan?”
Evan drew himself up. “Thirty-three.” She knew damn well how old he was.
“Which means you've got, oh, about five years left in your career? Ten, if you're lucky?”
Evan's lip curled. “Yeah. Thanks for the reality check.”
“You thought about what you're going to do when you're not making movies any more?”
“I thought I'd retire to the seaside and paint landscapes,” Evan snapped.
Sam held up her hands. “Yes, you're right, none of my business. But this kid David? He knows what he wants to do, and there's a chance he's not going to get to do it. This movie is maybe his one opportunity to ensure he gets to live his dream.”
Evan resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. “Lots of people have to give up on dreams. That's life.”
Sam stared at him for long enough that he had to stop himself from squirming; it felt like she was trying to see inside his head, and he hated that. “You know if it comes down to him or you, we'll choose you hands down. But I wish you could find it in yourself to be a little more generous toward him.”
Evan scrubbed at his face, feeling like a heel. All right, so she had a point. He had been kind of rotten around the guy, and after all, it wasn't his fault they'd come up with this cockamamie script. “Yeah, okay. What do you want me to do?”
“Have you decided, sir?”
“Hm?” David stared up at the waiter, who was hovering politely over him, his look expectant. Frantically, he looked back at the menu, trying to remember what he wanted. “Oh, um, the, uh, the small spinach salad to start, and, um, the - ” oh God, God, think “ - the...chicken parmesan?”
“Very good, sir,” the waiter said, prying the menu from his numb fingers and bustling off in the direction of the kitchen.
“You sure that's what you wanted?”
Without the menu to hide behind, David was finally forced to look at his dinner companion. When he did, he still couldn't quite believe it, so he repeated the phrase he'd put on permanent loop in his brain for the past hour. Evan Lorne asked you to dinner with him. You are not imagining this. Evan Lorne asked you to dinner with him. You are not imagining this. “Um,” he said intelligently, trying to force words past a dry throat, “it's only that there were...so many good choices.”
Evan nodded, smiling. “I thought you'd like it. This is my favourite restaurant.”
David blinked. “It is?” Frankly, this cozy basement bistro with the rustic decor and the friendly staff was the last place he would have expected to be Evan Lorne's favourite restaurant. He'd imagined him at home in one of those stainless-steel and glass Art Deco martini bars, all flash and cool style. He was glad to be proved wrong.
“What?” Evan was regarding him now, a slight frown creasing his features.
David shook his head. “Nothing. It's - it's a very nice place.”
Evan nodded again, apparently satisfied, and leaned back in his chair. “So. Sam tells me you're a botanist.”
“Yes,” David managed, taking a long drink of ice water in an attempt to steady his nerves.
“Any particular plants you like?”
“I'm partial to ferns,” David admitted. “My dissertation is about them.”
“Yeah? I always liked the look of ferns. They're prehistoric, aren't they?”
David smiled, pleased and surprised. “Yes, they're some of the most ancient forms of plants, dating back to the Devonian period.”
“Cool. I never met a fern expert before.” Evan's smile was truly something that had to be experienced at least once in one's lifetime, and to have it directed at you was nearly overwhelming. David was glad he was sitting.
“You make it sound almost interesting,” David said, smiling back in spite of himself.
“I got a theory for you - it's pretty basic, but I like it. People who find stuff interesting are interesting. People who are bored by everything are boring.”
David tried to swallow and failed. “Most people would find ferns fairly boring.”
“Then they don't know what they're missing, do they?” Evan asked, gaze locked with his.
“N-no, I suppose not.” Mercifully, before David could be transformed into a complete stammering wreck, their appetizers arrived. The salad helped to restore his blood sugar and give him a bit more energy, if not confidence.
“So listen,” Evan said, after the waiter had removed their plates, “I think we should talk about the movie.”
David's stomach flipped, tossing the salad rather unpleasantly. “Yes. I know I'm doing a terrible job, I'm sorry - ”
Suddenly, Evan's hand was wrapped around David's wrist, warm and solid. David stared at it, not quite believing it was there. “Hey, stop that,” Evan said softly. “Look, neither of us has been doing that great a job the last couple of days, all right? At least you've got an excuse - you've never done this before.”
Reluctantly, David raised his gaze to Evan's. “You're right,” he answered softly. “I've never done this before.” He'd never done anything this crazy, this reckless in his entire life, and he couldn't even plead temporary insanity, because the madness had lasted for weeks now, ever since Katie had told him that Evan Lorne worked at her studio, and it was showing no signs of subsiding. He wanted to tell this man the truth, wanted to say I'm sorry and I know this is wrong, but there seemed to be no sane way to tell a man you'd fallen in love with him in the span of five seconds of videotape.
Evan's hand was still on his wrist, the thumb caressing his pulse point, making him shiver. “Look, I'm the one who's sorry,” he murmured, the words startling David out of his stupor. “I've been a shit about this, and I've been taking it out on you. These chicks at Gay Porn for Girls - the stuff they want isn't the stuff I'm used to doing, and it's hard for me to trust them. Shep - my friend John Sheppard - is the one who convinced me to sign on with them, and so far I haven't regretted it. I just - it's not you, it's me, okay?”
David tried to speak, but no words would come out. Only when Evan released his wrist did he remember to breathe. “I feel like I should make it up to you,” Evan continued, oblivious to David's inability to form coherent sounds. “So look, let's eat, have some wine, and then I'll take you home and we'll go over the script without everybody gawking at us. What do you say?”
Unfortunately, what was left of David's brain had gone dribbling out his ears the moment he'd heard Evan say take you home in that smoky voice. He summoned enough motor control to nod his head dumbly; luckily, this seemed to be enough for Evan.
“Great,” Evan said. “You'll see. I'll make a porn star out of you yet.”
“Oh, dear Lord,” David breathed, reaching for his wine and downing it in one gulp.
Sometimes, Evan knew, he was prone to making really dumb decisions. Inviting David Parrish to his apartment to practice scenes from a porn film had to be right up there with the dumbest of them.
Even after their dinner, which had been a lot more enjoyable than Evan would have imagined it could be, Parrish was still about as relaxed as a virgin's ass. It was like he was holding himself back, trying everything he could to avoid getting into the part.
“No, look,” Evan sighed, rising to his feet and dragging David up with him, “you gotta remember Devon's been watching Eric for a while. He's watched him fuck another guy, even, and he thinks Eric's tired of meaningless sex. He's sure of himself, sure he's got what it takes to be what Eric needs.” Man, he sounded like Heightmeyer.
David shook his head. “I'm sorry, I still can't imagine how that would be possible. How could he be that confident?”
“Because besides being good-looking, he's got brains, and he's a great guy. He thinks he's got the goods to make Eric fall in love with him.”
David looked down, and Evan realized he was still holding Parrish's hand like a dope. He dropped it swiftly. “I don't know how to make someone fall in love with me,” David said softly, so low Evan had to strain to hear.
“Well, maybe 'make' isn't the right word. More like 'help', I guess.”
David looked away. “Some people can do much more than that. Sometimes you take one look at them and you're hopelessly besotted with them.” He took a deep breath. “So I suppose it must be possible.”
“There you go, that's the idea!” Evan slapped him companionably on the arm. “Confidence! That's what you need.” He picked up the script from the coffee table and thumbed through it. “Okay, let’s give this a shot while you’re in the mood. Try from the top of scene three, all right?”
David nodded, then clenched his jaw; Evan could see the muscle leaping under his temple. “Major, I don't think you understand exactly what I'm offering you,” he murmured, voice low and steady. His gaze rose to Evan's and Christ, Evan felt heat kindle in his belly and spread lower. How did a guy who studied ferns manage that kind of intense?
Lines, he had to remember his lines. Taking a step forward, Evan smiled a slow, sexy smile as he spread his hands. “Oh, I know what you're offering, Doc,” he drawled, “because it's the same thing guys have been offering me since I turned sweet sixteen.”
“You're wrong,” David countered. “I'm not like all those other men.”
Evan debated with himself for a split second before taking the next step, since they hadn't graduated to blocking yet in the rehearsals, and he wasn't sure how David would react. Deciding they might as well know now if David could do this, he reached out and palmed David's crotch, just as the script told him to do.
David's lips parted on an indrawn breath, his eyes going wide and startled before slamming shut for a moment, and Evan realized that David was half-hard already. Jesus. Unconsciously, his hand pressed a little more firmly, and he felt David's cock jerk under his fingers.
“You feel just like those other guys to me,” Evan said, ignoring the roughness of his own voice.
With what looked like a great effort of will, David reached for Evan's hand and drew it away, then crowded into his space. “Yes, I want you,” David breathed, hand still clamped to Evan's wrist in a death grip. “I'd hardly be human if I didn't. But that's not all I want.” His gaze locked with Evan's, and Evan was trapped, pinned like a bug, unable to look away. “What's more important is that it's not all you want, either.”
“Oh yeah?” Evan shot back, and shit, his voice had not just cracked. “Then what do I want?”
David gazed at him for what felt like a decade, his expression a weird mixture of arousal and sadness, before leaning in and brushing their mouths together, less than a kiss and more than a caress.
“Everything,” he whispered against Evan's lips.
Evan groaned and surged upward, meeting David in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss that left him weak and shaken. Good thing David didn't seem to have the same problem, because then they'd both be on the floor. He had one strong arm wrapped around Evan's back while the other softly cradled his jaw, and Evan wasn't sure which one was doing more to keep him upright. They finally parted as though shocked, practically jumping away from one another.
“Okay,” Evan managed, when he could be sure of his voice, “so that was - pretty good.”
“You think so?” David said, his voice breathy and thin.
“Yeah,” Evan said. “Yeah, it was - a lot better than the rehearsals.”
David nodded almost frantically, and Evan realized David's eyes seemed to be on everything but him. He darted a glance at David's crotch, and wow, David was still hard. “Well. That's. Good, then,” David murmured. “I should go. It's - ” he glanced at his watch “ - nearly ten, and we have to be there early tomorrow.”
“Hey, you - ” Evan cut himself off abruptly when he realized he'd almost offered to take care of David's little problem for him. More like his big problem, Evan amended silently, and God, he was really starting to lose it here. It wasn't like he'd never had sex with any of the guys he worked with off the clock, but he sensed that doing the same with this guy would be a disaster. Something told him that David Parrish wasn't the type to do casual.
The fact that he was making a porn film with the guy didn't matter. Evan had never had any problem keeping work and reality separate, and he wasn't about to start now. But he couldn't help wondering if David would be able to draw the line as easily, especially since Evan had essentially invited him to cross it tonight.
He belatedly realized that David was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish his sentence. “Uh, you need me to call you a cab?”
David shook his head. “No, I don't live far away. I'll probably walk. Clear my - head.”
Evan bit his lip, determined not to look down again. “Sure. I'll see you at the studio in the morning.”
“Yes. Good night. And - thank you for the - practice.”
After he left, Evan closed the door and softly banged his forehead against it several times.
On to Part 2
Author: lamardeuse
Pairing: Lorne/Parrish
Rating: NC-17
Vetted by: 20thcenturyvole
Betad by: reginagiraffe
Warnings: None
Author’s Notes: Inspired by mklutz’s amazing DVD cover.
Summary: David looked in the mirror and squared his shoulders. “David Parrish, porn star,” he intoned. When his reflection promptly turned green, David spun sideways and dropped to his knees, barely lifting the toilet lid in time.
Stage Fright
by lamardeuse
“Okay, David,” Laura Cadman said encouragingly, leaning forward across her desk, “suppose you tell us why you want to be a porn star.”
David Parrish stared at her, his mouth working soundlessly for a few moments, and Laura's smile remained frozen on her face as she contemplated whether or not he'd been dropped on his head as a baby. The guy Katie Brown had insisted was the Next Big Thing wasn't anything like she'd been expecting. Sure, he was hot, if you liked big, gangly, Jimmy Stewart types. Parrish was tall - six two if he was an inch - and he was blond, with broad shoulders and a kind, open face you could easily fall into. He was also more nervous than a sackful of cats at a dog show, and he looked like he might puke any second. In the three minutes he'd been in her office, he'd broken her coffee cup and knocked her desk caddy onto the floor, spilling pens and paperclips everywhere. If he was like this on the set, there was a real risk his costar could lose an important body part.
But Katie had sworn up and down that he had real potential, and Laura wasn't averse to trying something new. Besides, the sweet, goofy types had their appeal, especially when paired with a bad boy. And Katie already had just the bad boy in mind.
“I, um,” Parrish finally managed, staring at his hands, “to be honest with you, I need the money. I'm working on my dissertation, and the grants have dried up. Botany isn't exactly one of the more flashy sciences, so it doesn't - ”
“I'm sorry,” Laura interrupted, “did you say botany?”
Parrish's gaze rose. “Yes, that's the study of - ”
Laura held up a hand. “Yeah, I know what it's the study of, thanks.” This guy was a Ph.D. student in botany? Lord love a duck, some of the guys who appeared before their cameras couldn't spell botany.
“I'm sorry,” Parrish murmured. “I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just a little nervous, and I tend to babble when I'm nervous.”
Laura smiled again. “There's nothing to be nervous about,” she said, trying to be reassuring. “Nothing's been decided yet; we're just having a nice little chat. I'm only surprised that someone with your - ah, background - is interested in this line of work, even for the money.”
Parrish shifted in his seat. “Well, the way I see it, this is the quickest way to finance my education. I'm only interested in it for that.”
“O-kay,” Laura said, blowing out a breath. Really, Katie was going to owe her for this one. “Listen, why don't we start with a kind of screen test?” When Parrish's eyes widened, Laura added, “Clothes on, and we'll pay you for your time.”
Parrish did a short fish impersonation before stammering, “W-with whom would I be - ah, pairing?”
Laura smiled. “His name is Evan Lorne. He's one of our bright new lights, just signed to an exclusive contract with GPFG.”
“Oh, yes, I - ah, that is, I've heard of him.” Parrish's cheeks, Laura noted, were ever so slightly pink. It was a good look on him. She wasn't usually big on script ideas, but she started getting some marvelous, evil ideas in her head that she'd have to run by Kate at the earliest opportunity.
“Great,” Laura said, grinning. “Maybe someday people will be saying the same of you.”
Evan Lorne was having one of his shittier days. He'd been up too late again last night, and he knew he was going to catch hell from the makeup diva when he reported, and she'd make him stick those cucumbers under his eyes. Fuck, he hated that.
“Oh, Evan, there you are.” Evan tensed when he heard the musical lilt of Elizabeth's voice. When Elizabeth got lilty, someone was in trouble, and it was usually him. “I thought your call time was ten.”
“Um, yeah,” Evan said, hanging his leather jacket on the back of his chair and turning to face her. “I went out for a smoke.”
Elizabeth's nose wrinkled slightly. “Didn't you say you quit last week?”
Evan closed his eyes briefly. “I, uh, I had a relapse.”
“Mm-hmm,” Elizabeth said, and the only thing worse than lilty Elizabeth was non-verbal Elizabeth. “Well, never mind; I have someone for you to meet. Katie found him, and we're not one hundred percent sure he's going to work out, so we've decided to do a short screen test with the two of you.”
Evan grinned ferally. Fresh meat; his day was suddenly looking up.
“Clothes on,” Elizabeth said firmly.
Evan's face fell. “What? Why?”
“Because he's never been in front of a camera before, let alone naked. He's pretty nervous.”
Evan sighed. “Great.” The last thing he needed today was some nervous nelly who didn't know his dick from his elbow, or worse, Evan's dick from his elbow. Just because Sheppard and McKay were the Brad and Angelina of this outfit, that didn't mean that Evan should take all the shit jobs. He was about to open his mouth to say as much when he walked around the set backdrop -
- and collided head-on with a big, solid wall.
“Jesus!” Evan exclaimed, arms windmilling as he started to keel over backwards. This was great, this was just perfect, he was going to land flat on his ass, and he needed his ass, he was going to lose money if he got it all bruised and gross-looking. He was just beginning to fall when strong hands latched onto his shoulders and hauled him up again, and the next thing he knew, Evan was being cradled close against a warm body, snug and sound.
“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry.” Evan looked up into a pair of the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, wide with concern. He blinked a couple of times, stupidly, and then realized he was practically reclining in this guy’s arms like some fainting Victorian maiden. Grabbing onto the guy’s shoulders, he hauled himself upright, and whoa, the guy was still really tall.
“Evan Lorne, meet David Parrish,” Elizabeth said, and Evan didn’t have to be looking at her to know she was smirking. Oh, wonderful. This clumsy giraffe was the new guy?
Taking a step back, Evan extended his hand, which was quickly enclosed in a warm, firm grip. “Pleased to meetcha,” Evan said, sliding into his best come-hither smirk.
The guy turned beet red. “It’s a pleasure, really,” he breathed, nodding almost frantically.
Evan turned the grin up another three notches, then watched as a fine sheen of sweat popped out on the guy’s brow. Leaning in, he murmured, “It’s not now. But it will be soon.”
David looked in the dressing room mirror and squared his shoulders. “David Parrish, porn star,” he intoned at his reflection. When his reflection promptly turned green, he spun sideways and dropped to his knees, barely lifting the toilet lid in time.
“Oh, God,” he groaned, resting his forehead briefly against the cool porcelain before staggering to his feet and reaching for the bottle of mouthwash. This was going to be a disaster.
“Okay, let's just keep this loose, fellas,” Sam Carter said. The script was a short, simple seduction scene, stopping before things got too hot, since the main goal of the afternoon was to see if this Parrish guy could come across on film. Sure, he was hot, tall and broad-shouldered, with an open, wholesome face, but if Sam had a dime for every handsome guy who'd turned out to be a nothing once the cameras rolled, she could retire to Hawaii.
One thing was certain: if David Parrish had a spark of on-screen sex appeal, Evan Lorne could fan it into the Chicago fire. Signing Lorne to that contract was one of the smartest things Elizabeth had done in a while; the man was sex on legs, and versatile to boot. There were times when Sam thought that the experienced star came across a little too practiced, but that was a minor flaw as far as this business was concerned. Lorne still had enough rough edges to him to appear unpredictable, and it was that quality that appealed to GPFG's target audience.
Today, to keep Parrish as close to his comfort zone as possible, they were going with a tried and true scenario; the classroom seduction. Parrish was a good head taller than Lorne, so some of the mechanics would be a little trickier, but they weren't planning anything complicated. Lorne was to be the naughty college student in for extra lessons with the professor; while the professor's back was turned, Lorne would sneak up behind him and wrap his arms around Parrish from behind, then turn him around and shove him against the desk. Parrish would fall back onto his elbows and Lorne would be on him like a limpet, straddling him and kissing him. A little necking, a little clothed petting, then a fade to black. Boring, but easy enough.
She looked from Parrish to Lorne. Both men were in costume, Lorne in ripped jeans and a black t-shirt that molded to every curve of his rather delicious muscles, and Parrish in a lab coat over a jacket and tie that wardrobe had dug out of the back of some closet or other. Lorne was completely at ease, arms lazily swinging back and forth, while Parrish was sweating so much he looked like he might melt. “Uh,” Sam said, “David, are you gonna make it?”
“Oh, certainly, certainly,” Parrish assured her, though his tense, reed-thin voice did not reassure her in the least. “I know what to do.”
Lorne waggled his eyebrows at her. “Me, too.”
Sam crossed her arms, unconvinced. “Remember, David, you've been thinking about Evan for a long time. You're convinced, though, that a relationship would be unprofessional, so I want to see some reluctance when he first approaches you. Make him work for it.” David nodded nervously, and Sam was dismayed to see his cheeks turn bright pink.
Lorne flipped a hand. “Yeah, he blushed when Kate went over the scenes with him, too. She's been over our motivations and everything, so I think we're good.”
Sam resisted the urge to roll her eyes skyward. Evan was still settling into GPFG's way of doing things. For him, plot in a porn movie was about as useful as tits on a bull, but he'd go along with it as long as he was being paid. “All right, then, let's just see what happens, shall we?”
“And - action!”
Lindsey Novak started with a close shot of David Parrish's hand as it held a piece of chalk against a blackboard. She drew back slowly, revealing Parrish's lab coat, then his face. Parrish had a good, strong profile; he looked like he'd stepped right out of a cornfield in the middle of the hailstone and sarsaparilla belt. She just had enough time to think that their Midwestern viewers were going to love him before he sucked in a great lungful of air and sneezed all over her camera lens.
“Cut!”
“Oh, my, I - I'm - ah - ah - ” Lindsey took a quick step back in time to escape another sneeze and nearly stumbled over Lorne's spread legs. He gripped her arm, steadying her, and she shot him a look of thanks.
“I'm so sorry,” Parrish finally managed, reaching into his pocket for a Kleenex. “It's only that - I'm allergic to chalk.”
“You're allergic to chalk?” Lorne asked incredulously. “But you're a botanist, right? How come you haven't died from pollen allergies by now?”
“I'm not allergic to pollen,” Parrish said primly, “only chalk.”
“Okay,” Sam said, passing a hand over her eyes. “From now on, could you please make us aware in advance of any medical conditions that may screw up takes?”
“Yes, certainly. I just didn't think it would affect me this mu-mu-muchoooo - ”
“Evan, sweetheart,” Sam sighed, “would you mind taking away David’s chalk before we have to get Carson in here with an Epipen?”
The second take, David mimed writing on the chalkboard. It looked stupid, but at least no one was in danger of dying. Lindsey pulled back, then panned slowly to show Evan sprawled in his chair. Not for the first time, it struck her that he was a pretty, pretty man. The camera didn't just love him, it wanted to hump his leg.
Lorne was sporting his best naughty-boy expression, the one that said I'm about to fuck with you. That quickly slid into his I'm about to fuck you look as he pushed himself out of the chair and ambled over to the oblivious Professor. With the lithe grace of a dangerous jungle cat, Lorne slipped up behind him and pressed against his back -
- and Parrish promptly startled and elbowed him in the ribs.
“Cut!” yelled Sam.
The third time, they almost made it.
Lorne had successfully maneuvered Parrish over to the wide oak desk and had shoved him down on it, and now he was straddling him.
“M-Michael,” Parrish stammered - he had cornered the market on stammering (not to mention blushing and trembling) - “I d-don't think you know what you're doing.”
“Oh, you're wrong, Professor,” Evan said, smirking his very best smirk as he lowered his mouth to Parrish's, “I know exactly what I'm doing.” While Parrish stared up at him with wide, terrified eyes, Lorne caught Parrish's lower lip between his own and tugged at it gently, soothing it with a teasing brush of his tongue. He pulled back briefly to observe his handiwork with characteristic smugness.
Parrish's eyes closed and he groaned helplessly, then he slid one big hand into Lorne's hair and drew him down, bringing their mouths together with something just short of violence.
Holy shit, thought Lindsey. That hadn't been in the script.
She was close enough to pick up Lorne's brief moment of resistance, as though he expected Sam to end the scene, and then he just kind of...well, melted. Lindsey wasn't sure, because she'd seen Evan cocky, arrogant, and aggressive, but she'd never seen him surrender. That sure as hell seemed to be what was happening, though, because Parrish was still holding him in place with that bear paw of his and Lorne was going right with it, draping over Parrish's long body like a blanket and opening his mouth for Parrish's hungry exploration. And a hungry Parrish was another surprise; he'd been so self-conscious and painfully aware of the camera a minute ago, and now he seemed to have completely forgotten it was there.
They broke apart, panting, Lorne mussed and at a loss for words, another new look for him. And then Lindsey realized his next line, which was supposed to be smartassed, had been completely blown by Parrish's taking over the kiss. Parrish, for his part, didn't seem too worried about it; he looked up at Evan with something approaching worship, then cupped his face tenderly and brushed a thumb across his mouth. Lorne's eyelids drooped, and his lips parted on an indrawn breath.
“You're so beautiful,” Parrish murmured wonderingly, and that wasn't in the script either, but man, it worked for her.
Unfortunately, it didn't work for Lorne. As soon as the words were out of Parrish's mouth, he stiffened and straightened, breaking the contact with Parrish's caressing hand. Green eyes flashing, he turned and glared at Sam.
“Just how much do we have to fuck up a scene before you call 'cut', anyway?” he growled.
Lindsey could hear Sam grit her teeth from across the room. “Just that much,” she snapped. “Cut.”
“I wasn't imagining it, was I?”
Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers, tearing her gaze away from the now-blank TV screen to look at Sam. “No, you didn't imagine it,” she agreed. “They have great chemistry.”
“And that's also the best performance I've seen so far out of Evan,” Kate Heightmeyer, GPFG's acting coach, added.
“And they're damned pretty together,” Lindsey sighed.
Teyla folded her arms. “Too bad it only lasted forty-five seconds.”
Elizabeth smiled; you could always trust Teyla to look on the bright side. “I think Parrish might respond to more coaching, don't you?”
“I'm sure he would,” Kate said. “I can start working with him tomorrow morning, if you like.”
“In the meantime, we need a new script.” She looked at Teyla. “What do you think?”
Teyla shook her head. “I don't think I'll have the time. I'm working on that new one for John and Rodney, and I can't get them out of my head.”
“Isn't that a Kylie Minogue song?” Laura asked sweetly. Teyla stuck her tongue out at her playfully.
“The problem is finding a script that's right for them,” Sam said. “This one sure as hell wasn't.”
“I, uh - ” Elizabeth turned to Laura, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. “I might have this idea.”
“For a script?”
Laura practically squirmed in her seat. “I know it’s outside my job description...”
Elizabeth shook her head. “We’ve always been pretty flexible on the job descriptions; you know that.”
Laura flapped a hand. “Well, something kind of clicked with me this morning when I was interviewing Parrish, and it’s clicked even more now that I’ve seen him in action with Lorne. Let me work on it tonight and give you a few pages tomorrow?”
“Sounds good,” Elizabeth replied, smiling. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve come up with.”
Laura blew out a breath. “No pressure. Great.”
“David, I know you’re in there! Open the door!” Katie’s fist slammed against the door a few more times, the noise reverberating through the halls of David’s apartment building.
“I’m trying to sleep!” David finally shouted back.
“It’s not even nine-thirty! Open the door, David, or I will make a - a nuisance of myself!”
Katie heard the sound of footsteps approaching and deadbolts being thrown before the door opened to reveal her friend. “Dear Lord, anything but a nuisance,” he said dryly. “I’m trembling in terror and disgust.”
“Oh, shut up,” Katie snapped, elbowing past him into his apartment. “What is the matter with you? When Elizabeth came back from the meeting, you were gone! Didn’t I tell you to wait?”
David flopped down onto the couch and rested his elbows on his knees. “In case you haven’t noticed in the eleven years we’ve known one another, I’ve never been terribly good at dealing with rejection.”
Katie threw up her hands. “What rejection? They loved you! They want you back tomorrow! Laura Cadman is writing you your own script!”
David stared at her, and Katie could swear that some of that terror he’d just been talking about was in his eyes. “Wh-what?”
Katie sat down beside him and patted his knee in a sisterly fashion. “They thought you had great chemistry with Evan Lorne. They want you to star in a picture together.”
David blinked at her a few times, and Katie began to get nervous. This was a lot like the time David had been up in front of the class his junior year in high school to do that presentation on prehistoric ferns. He’d managed three sentences before he’d bolted out of the room and puked.
“I - I can’t,” David whispered, face now ashen. “I - he hated me.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Katie said, putting an arm around as much of his back as she could reach, “I’m sure he didn’t hate you. I didn’t see the tape, but everyone said the two of you burned up the screen.”
“I thought we did,” David said morosely, “until I told him he was beautiful.”
Katie frowned. “If it was in the script - ”
“It wasn’t in the script.” David sighed. “I kind of - forgot where I was for a minute.” He stared at his hands. “God, I’m far too old to be a stalker, but that's just what I am, isn't it?”
“What are you talking about?” Katie asked, genuinely perplexed.
David shot her a doe-eyed glance of such abject despair that her heart skipped a beat. “David, sweetheart, what's wrong? Tell me.”
“I lied to you,” he blurted, wringing his hands. “I applied to be a porn star under false pretences.”
Katie stared at him. “You do realize that statement requires an explanation, don't you?”
Groaning, David buried his face in his hands.
“Fuck, you're hot. Can I suck you?”
Evan smiled at the twink who had just delivered a line straight out of a porn movie. That was one of the annoying things about twinks, he decided, and why it was best to find another way to keep their mouths occupied. Spreading his hands, he drawled, “Knock yourself out.”
The twink dropped to his knees in a parody of supplicaton and Evan leaned his head back against the wall so he wouldn't have to look at him. It wasn't like he hadn't noticed it was getting harder and harder to summon up the same - uh, enthusiasm - he'd once had for back room blow jobs and quick, dirty fucks. For a while, his reputation as a semi-well-known porn star had gotten him all kinds of action, not that he'd ever been hurting for attention. But lately, while the supply of eager young mouths hadn't abated, his interest in the club scene had been on the wane. Last week he'd found himself wandering around the fine art museum, for Christ's sake, and he hadn't been there since - well. A hell of a long time.
The twink wasn't much on finesse, just got right down to sucking in earnest. Evan stared straight ahead and imagined another mouth on him, one that was broad and full-lipped, imagined sympathetic blue eyes gazing up at him with an intensity that stole his breath.
Gritting his teeth, Evan banished the thought. No. No. No way was he into that clumsy, overgrown farm boy. So what if he kissed like he was taking a piece of your goddamn soul from you and handing it back to you in the next heartbeat? Evan wasn't into mush and flowers and guys telling you you were beautiful. Who even said that outside of some chick romance novel? And he didn't like being manhandled; he was a top, goddammit. Anyone who watched his pictures knew that, and just because this guy was big and stronger than he looked and held Evan like he was some kind of fucking treasure, that didn't mean he had to like it. Just because his hands were huge and square and you got hard when you realized it was going to take all your strength to push him away, and maybe even then you wouldn't get free -
Groaning, Evan arched his hips, pumped once, twice, and came.
“Jesus!” the twink exclaimed, pulling off and spitting on the floor. “Give a guy a little warning next time, willya?”
Head still resting against the wall, Evan zipped up without looking down. “Let's face it, kid,” he murmured. “There isn't gonna be a next time.”
“So let me see if I understand what you're saying,” Katie said slowly. “You don't usually watch porn.”
David nodded. “I know it sounds foolish, but yes.”
“All right. Let's assume that's possible - and you're about the only person I'd believe when they said something like that - but fine, let's assume it. Then you finally see a porn movie a couple of months ago that happens to be starring Evan Lorne.”
David tried not to blush. “Yes.”
“And from this porn movie, of which you have very little experience, you think you're in love with him.”
“Not think. I know.”
“David...” Katie said warningly.
David sighed. “Please don't ask me to explain, because I can't.” What was the point? She was his best friend, understood him as well as anyone, and yet to ask her to understand his obsession with Evan Lorne was too much to ask of even their friendship. Until he'd held him in his arms, he hadn't understood it himself.
“Oh, sweetie,” Katie murmured, her hand on his arm bringing him back to the present. “Listen, you don't know Evan like I do. He's - well, I don't see him falling in love with anyone. I'm afraid you're going to get hurt.”
David ignored the small voice of reason in his head that agreed with her. Shaking his head, he said firmly, “Everyone wants to fall in love. It's just that some of us don't think we deserve it.”
“Major Eric Adept and Dr. Devon Perilla,” Elizabeth said slowly, her gaze fixed on the script. Across the desk, Laura resisted the urge to chew her own leg off in anticipation.
“I can change the names if you don’t like them,” Laura blurted. She’d intended to fire off a few pages for Elizabeth’s perusal, but had ended up with a finished rough draft after spending the whole night working on it. This writing thing was addictive; she’d started right after supper, and the next time she’d looked at the clock it had been two in the morning. She wasn’t sure, but she thought maybe she was on her fifteenth cup of coffee.
Elizabeth smiled slightly, still not taking her eyes off the script. “The names are fine.”
“Remember, this is just a preliminary draft, and I - ”
Elizabeth did look up then. “Laura, would you rather wait in your office while I read this?”
Laura gripped the arms of the chair. “No, I’m good. I’ll just let you - read.”
Nodding, Elizabeth returned her attention to the script. Laura sat, nails digging into the soft fabric of the chair, while Elizabeth flipped pages. The seconds stretched into minutes stretched into centuries.
“Oh, my,” Elizabeth said under her breath. Every muscle in Laura’s body tensed. “Oh, my.” Laura opened her mouth to ask if that was a good oh, my or a bad one, but then she saw that Elizabeth’s cheeks were stained pink.
Good oh, my, then. Laura’s grip eased on the chair.
After what seemed like an eternity, Elizabeth looked up from the script. “This will definitely work. If Parrish can pull it off.”
Laura considered this. “You know, I think he can. There’s something in the way he acts with Evan - there’s more there than meets the eye. That’s what inspired me.” She rubbed at the back of her neck. “What worries me is Evan.”
“He’s a pro.”
“Yeah, but he’s always the top. I don’t think he’s going to take well to having the tables turned on him.”
This time it was Elizabeth’s turn to consider. “Well. I suppose we could find someone else for the role if we had to - but I don’t want to have to. Those boys are just going to have to figure out a way to get along.”
Laura smiled. “Or you’ll make them.”
Elizabeth returned the smile, but hers had a razor edge. “Or I’ll...persuade them.”
Sometimes Laura really loved her job; it was good to know that Elizabeth did, too.
“No. No way.”
“Evan, darling - ”
“Don't try to sweet talk me, Elizabeth. You're trying to fuck with my image, and I won't let you do it.”
Elizabeth rested her elbows on her desk and leaned forward. “And how am I doing that, exactly?”
“This part calls for a bottom. I'm not a bottom. I never have been and I never will be.”
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “Never?”
Evan shook his head firmly. “Never, and you know it. That's one of the reasons you hired me.”
Elizabeth cocked her head. “I hired you for many reasons, but I don't recall that being one of them. You appeal to men - and women - as a tough, sexy man. A bottom can be just as tough as a top, and certainly as sexy.”
Evan opened his mouth to argue, but Elizabeth cut him off. “Ultimately, we won't force you to do anything you're not comfortable with. All I ask is that you keep an open mind, and give it a try. Sam is filming the script in sequence since David is inexperienced; she wants him to ease into the character - and the explicit scenes - gradually. You'll have plenty of time to decide if this is something you can do.”
Elizabeth had the great satisfaction of seeing Evan bristle. “It's not that I can't handle it - ”
She treated him to her most professional smile. “Of course you can handle it. That's not in doubt.”
Evan frowned. “Then - ”
Elizabeth stood, ending the meeting right at the point when he was teetering on one foot. “Thank you so much for your input on this project. I want you to feel free to come to me with any of your concerns.”
Evan rubbed at his neck, his thin-lipped smile telling her he knew he was being railroaded but didn't have a damned clue what to do about it. “Yeah. Anytime.”
As set designer, Katie usually didn't need to be on set during rehearsals and filming, but Sam had requested she be there as much as possible for 'moral support', and she couldn't turn the director down. Now that she knew David's secret, she worried that her presence would only make him more nervous, but she couldn't exactly tell Sam that.
Prep work on this film had been mercifully brief, since they were reusing the sets and props from Sheppard and McKay's sci-fi series. As a result, Katie had had very little to do, which had given her plenty of time to hold David's hand through the costume fittings and the makeup tests. God knew that was a full-time job, for David was now convinced that this was easily the stupidest thing he'd ever done and was one step away from bolting every time Evan Lorne so much as looked his way. Lorne had made it fairly clear that he was displeased with the new script, and was barely tolerating his new co-star; if he wasn't openly hostile toward David, neither was he in any way friendly.
“God, he really does hate me,” David groaned in his dressing room after one particularly rough rehearsal.
“Sweetie, he was acting,” Katie soothed, trying to sound convincing. “It's not necessarily the way he feels about you.” The script was interesting, bringing together a closeted Air Force major used to anonymous couplings and a young scientist who was determined to break through his hard-bitten exterior to the man underneath. It had the potential to be compelling as well as hot, but so far Evan and David hadn't managed to recapture the spark they'd ignited in the screen test. “Eric has to push Devon away at first, because he doesn't know what his motives are. Once he knows Devon's on the level, he'll open up to him.”
“But I'm not on the level!” wailed David, head in his hands. “I'm as much of a creepy stalker as Evan - Eric - thinks I am!”
Katie shook her head. “Stop it. You're not a stalker. Well - ” David lifted his head and stared at her “ - not a creepy stalker.”
David ran both hands through his hair. “Oh, God. Please kill me now.”
“Okay, this isn't working,” Sam sighed.
Evan leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, trying not to let the surge of triumph show on his face.
“And you,” Sam shot at him, “don't look so smug over there.”
Evan straightened. “Look, what do you want me to do? The guy's not an actor, and he's sure as hell not a porn star.”
Sam's look turned considering. “You've been jonesing for him to fall on his ass as soon as you read that script, haven't you?”
Evan frowned and tried to look sincere. “Of course not! Why would I do that?”
Sam only lifted an eyebrow.
“Fine,” Evan muttered, looking at his hands. “Maybe a little.” His gaze rose to meet hers. “I don't like the script, okay? I don't think it's good for my career.”
Sam regarded him calmly. “How old are you, Evan?”
Evan drew himself up. “Thirty-three.” She knew damn well how old he was.
“Which means you've got, oh, about five years left in your career? Ten, if you're lucky?”
Evan's lip curled. “Yeah. Thanks for the reality check.”
“You thought about what you're going to do when you're not making movies any more?”
“I thought I'd retire to the seaside and paint landscapes,” Evan snapped.
Sam held up her hands. “Yes, you're right, none of my business. But this kid David? He knows what he wants to do, and there's a chance he's not going to get to do it. This movie is maybe his one opportunity to ensure he gets to live his dream.”
Evan resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. “Lots of people have to give up on dreams. That's life.”
Sam stared at him for long enough that he had to stop himself from squirming; it felt like she was trying to see inside his head, and he hated that. “You know if it comes down to him or you, we'll choose you hands down. But I wish you could find it in yourself to be a little more generous toward him.”
Evan scrubbed at his face, feeling like a heel. All right, so she had a point. He had been kind of rotten around the guy, and after all, it wasn't his fault they'd come up with this cockamamie script. “Yeah, okay. What do you want me to do?”
“Have you decided, sir?”
“Hm?” David stared up at the waiter, who was hovering politely over him, his look expectant. Frantically, he looked back at the menu, trying to remember what he wanted. “Oh, um, the, uh, the small spinach salad to start, and, um, the - ” oh God, God, think “ - the...chicken parmesan?”
“Very good, sir,” the waiter said, prying the menu from his numb fingers and bustling off in the direction of the kitchen.
“You sure that's what you wanted?”
Without the menu to hide behind, David was finally forced to look at his dinner companion. When he did, he still couldn't quite believe it, so he repeated the phrase he'd put on permanent loop in his brain for the past hour. Evan Lorne asked you to dinner with him. You are not imagining this. Evan Lorne asked you to dinner with him. You are not imagining this. “Um,” he said intelligently, trying to force words past a dry throat, “it's only that there were...so many good choices.”
Evan nodded, smiling. “I thought you'd like it. This is my favourite restaurant.”
David blinked. “It is?” Frankly, this cozy basement bistro with the rustic decor and the friendly staff was the last place he would have expected to be Evan Lorne's favourite restaurant. He'd imagined him at home in one of those stainless-steel and glass Art Deco martini bars, all flash and cool style. He was glad to be proved wrong.
“What?” Evan was regarding him now, a slight frown creasing his features.
David shook his head. “Nothing. It's - it's a very nice place.”
Evan nodded again, apparently satisfied, and leaned back in his chair. “So. Sam tells me you're a botanist.”
“Yes,” David managed, taking a long drink of ice water in an attempt to steady his nerves.
“Any particular plants you like?”
“I'm partial to ferns,” David admitted. “My dissertation is about them.”
“Yeah? I always liked the look of ferns. They're prehistoric, aren't they?”
David smiled, pleased and surprised. “Yes, they're some of the most ancient forms of plants, dating back to the Devonian period.”
“Cool. I never met a fern expert before.” Evan's smile was truly something that had to be experienced at least once in one's lifetime, and to have it directed at you was nearly overwhelming. David was glad he was sitting.
“You make it sound almost interesting,” David said, smiling back in spite of himself.
“I got a theory for you - it's pretty basic, but I like it. People who find stuff interesting are interesting. People who are bored by everything are boring.”
David tried to swallow and failed. “Most people would find ferns fairly boring.”
“Then they don't know what they're missing, do they?” Evan asked, gaze locked with his.
“N-no, I suppose not.” Mercifully, before David could be transformed into a complete stammering wreck, their appetizers arrived. The salad helped to restore his blood sugar and give him a bit more energy, if not confidence.
“So listen,” Evan said, after the waiter had removed their plates, “I think we should talk about the movie.”
David's stomach flipped, tossing the salad rather unpleasantly. “Yes. I know I'm doing a terrible job, I'm sorry - ”
Suddenly, Evan's hand was wrapped around David's wrist, warm and solid. David stared at it, not quite believing it was there. “Hey, stop that,” Evan said softly. “Look, neither of us has been doing that great a job the last couple of days, all right? At least you've got an excuse - you've never done this before.”
Reluctantly, David raised his gaze to Evan's. “You're right,” he answered softly. “I've never done this before.” He'd never done anything this crazy, this reckless in his entire life, and he couldn't even plead temporary insanity, because the madness had lasted for weeks now, ever since Katie had told him that Evan Lorne worked at her studio, and it was showing no signs of subsiding. He wanted to tell this man the truth, wanted to say I'm sorry and I know this is wrong, but there seemed to be no sane way to tell a man you'd fallen in love with him in the span of five seconds of videotape.
Evan's hand was still on his wrist, the thumb caressing his pulse point, making him shiver. “Look, I'm the one who's sorry,” he murmured, the words startling David out of his stupor. “I've been a shit about this, and I've been taking it out on you. These chicks at Gay Porn for Girls - the stuff they want isn't the stuff I'm used to doing, and it's hard for me to trust them. Shep - my friend John Sheppard - is the one who convinced me to sign on with them, and so far I haven't regretted it. I just - it's not you, it's me, okay?”
David tried to speak, but no words would come out. Only when Evan released his wrist did he remember to breathe. “I feel like I should make it up to you,” Evan continued, oblivious to David's inability to form coherent sounds. “So look, let's eat, have some wine, and then I'll take you home and we'll go over the script without everybody gawking at us. What do you say?”
Unfortunately, what was left of David's brain had gone dribbling out his ears the moment he'd heard Evan say take you home in that smoky voice. He summoned enough motor control to nod his head dumbly; luckily, this seemed to be enough for Evan.
“Great,” Evan said. “You'll see. I'll make a porn star out of you yet.”
“Oh, dear Lord,” David breathed, reaching for his wine and downing it in one gulp.
Sometimes, Evan knew, he was prone to making really dumb decisions. Inviting David Parrish to his apartment to practice scenes from a porn film had to be right up there with the dumbest of them.
Even after their dinner, which had been a lot more enjoyable than Evan would have imagined it could be, Parrish was still about as relaxed as a virgin's ass. It was like he was holding himself back, trying everything he could to avoid getting into the part.
“No, look,” Evan sighed, rising to his feet and dragging David up with him, “you gotta remember Devon's been watching Eric for a while. He's watched him fuck another guy, even, and he thinks Eric's tired of meaningless sex. He's sure of himself, sure he's got what it takes to be what Eric needs.” Man, he sounded like Heightmeyer.
David shook his head. “I'm sorry, I still can't imagine how that would be possible. How could he be that confident?”
“Because besides being good-looking, he's got brains, and he's a great guy. He thinks he's got the goods to make Eric fall in love with him.”
David looked down, and Evan realized he was still holding Parrish's hand like a dope. He dropped it swiftly. “I don't know how to make someone fall in love with me,” David said softly, so low Evan had to strain to hear.
“Well, maybe 'make' isn't the right word. More like 'help', I guess.”
David looked away. “Some people can do much more than that. Sometimes you take one look at them and you're hopelessly besotted with them.” He took a deep breath. “So I suppose it must be possible.”
“There you go, that's the idea!” Evan slapped him companionably on the arm. “Confidence! That's what you need.” He picked up the script from the coffee table and thumbed through it. “Okay, let’s give this a shot while you’re in the mood. Try from the top of scene three, all right?”
David nodded, then clenched his jaw; Evan could see the muscle leaping under his temple. “Major, I don't think you understand exactly what I'm offering you,” he murmured, voice low and steady. His gaze rose to Evan's and Christ, Evan felt heat kindle in his belly and spread lower. How did a guy who studied ferns manage that kind of intense?
Lines, he had to remember his lines. Taking a step forward, Evan smiled a slow, sexy smile as he spread his hands. “Oh, I know what you're offering, Doc,” he drawled, “because it's the same thing guys have been offering me since I turned sweet sixteen.”
“You're wrong,” David countered. “I'm not like all those other men.”
Evan debated with himself for a split second before taking the next step, since they hadn't graduated to blocking yet in the rehearsals, and he wasn't sure how David would react. Deciding they might as well know now if David could do this, he reached out and palmed David's crotch, just as the script told him to do.
David's lips parted on an indrawn breath, his eyes going wide and startled before slamming shut for a moment, and Evan realized that David was half-hard already. Jesus. Unconsciously, his hand pressed a little more firmly, and he felt David's cock jerk under his fingers.
“You feel just like those other guys to me,” Evan said, ignoring the roughness of his own voice.
With what looked like a great effort of will, David reached for Evan's hand and drew it away, then crowded into his space. “Yes, I want you,” David breathed, hand still clamped to Evan's wrist in a death grip. “I'd hardly be human if I didn't. But that's not all I want.” His gaze locked with Evan's, and Evan was trapped, pinned like a bug, unable to look away. “What's more important is that it's not all you want, either.”
“Oh yeah?” Evan shot back, and shit, his voice had not just cracked. “Then what do I want?”
David gazed at him for what felt like a decade, his expression a weird mixture of arousal and sadness, before leaning in and brushing their mouths together, less than a kiss and more than a caress.
“Everything,” he whispered against Evan's lips.
Evan groaned and surged upward, meeting David in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss that left him weak and shaken. Good thing David didn't seem to have the same problem, because then they'd both be on the floor. He had one strong arm wrapped around Evan's back while the other softly cradled his jaw, and Evan wasn't sure which one was doing more to keep him upright. They finally parted as though shocked, practically jumping away from one another.
“Okay,” Evan managed, when he could be sure of his voice, “so that was - pretty good.”
“You think so?” David said, his voice breathy and thin.
“Yeah,” Evan said. “Yeah, it was - a lot better than the rehearsals.”
David nodded almost frantically, and Evan realized David's eyes seemed to be on everything but him. He darted a glance at David's crotch, and wow, David was still hard. “Well. That's. Good, then,” David murmured. “I should go. It's - ” he glanced at his watch “ - nearly ten, and we have to be there early tomorrow.”
“Hey, you - ” Evan cut himself off abruptly when he realized he'd almost offered to take care of David's little problem for him. More like his big problem, Evan amended silently, and God, he was really starting to lose it here. It wasn't like he'd never had sex with any of the guys he worked with off the clock, but he sensed that doing the same with this guy would be a disaster. Something told him that David Parrish wasn't the type to do casual.
The fact that he was making a porn film with the guy didn't matter. Evan had never had any problem keeping work and reality separate, and he wasn't about to start now. But he couldn't help wondering if David would be able to draw the line as easily, especially since Evan had essentially invited him to cross it tonight.
He belatedly realized that David was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish his sentence. “Uh, you need me to call you a cab?”
David shook his head. “No, I don't live far away. I'll probably walk. Clear my - head.”
Evan bit his lip, determined not to look down again. “Sure. I'll see you at the studio in the morning.”
“Yes. Good night. And - thank you for the - practice.”
After he left, Evan closed the door and softly banged his forehead against it several times.
On to Part 2