after the bars turn out their lights, will/skandar, pg-13
Happy birthday thisissirius!!
Ilu, bb. So much! ♥ I love that we've only known each other for like six months or so but it feels like it's been forever. And I love that we can spend ages on MSN squeeing over Will and Skandar and how it always turns into spontaneous crack!fic after a while. XD And how you can give me comforting, non-judgemental advice about my lovelife even when it's at its craziest. You're awesome and I'm so glad we're friends. I hope you have an AMAZING day. ♥♥♥
And here is your present. :)
Title: after the bars turn out their lights
Author: likecharity
Pairing: Will/Skandar (some Georgie/Will P.)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Real person slash
Summary: When The Voyage Of The Dawn Treader begins filming, everything changes.
A/N: Written for thisissirius, for her birthday. Slightly more angsty than I expected, but I hope it still fits your prompt, bb. Also, everyone can just invent their own timeline to make this work for them, writing future!fic confuses the hell out of me.
i'll wear my badge
a vinyl sticker with big block letters
adhere it to my chest
that tells your new friends
i am a visitor here, i am not permanent
the postal service - the district sleeps alone tonight
[download]
It's already the last month of shooting by the time Will manages to organise his visit to the Dawn Treader set. Anna went at the end of June, but he was still tied up doing Iron Clad, and everything just kept being extended and delayed and postponed until finally, finally he was on a plane heading to Mexico. He's been to Mexico before, but never this part. It's big and hot and unfamiliar when he gets off the plane, but all of it's in a good way, an exciting way.
The movie set is big and hot and unfamiliar too, and it's scary and strange, and as he walks along he doesn't know if he's ever felt more out of place in his life. There are a few people he recognises, but they're mixed in with so many strangers that it just feels wrong. He sees Ben, suddenly, a few metres away, swigging from a bottle of water. Their eyes meet, and Ben's light up.
"Yo, homo!" Ben greets him, trotting over. He's in costume, all loose blue fabric that seems to glimmer under the hot sun, and his skin is dark with Caspian's tan.
"Yo yourself," Will grins, as Ben pulls him into one of those clap-on-the-back hugs.
When Georgie appears, and comes running over too, Will can hardly believe his eyes. She's grown a good few inches and she looks so much older.
"Oh my god, look at you!" he's saying, perfectly aware that he sounds like an aunt or something but he can't help it. "Where's Georgie? Who's this young lady?"
Georgie rolls her eyes. "Oh shut up," she laughs, holding out her arms for a hug.
He tries to lift her up like he used to, but she's too heavy now. He holds her close -- he's missed a good Georgie-hug. When she pulls away he notices a familiar, shy-looking blonde boy standing behind her.
"Will, you remember Will," chuckles Ben, gesturing between them.
Will Poulter steps forward, smiling. "Hi," he says.
"Hi," says Will back, and there's a slightly awkward silence.
It's strange to see someone standing there between Ben and Georgie, where he would usually be. He can't help thinking that, even though he promised himself he wouldn't dwell on it. It's not Will's fault, it's not anybody's fault, it's just that it's strange.
"Hope you're surviving," he tries to joke, "being in the company of this lot 24/7."
Will P. laughs. "I'm doing my best."
"I have the feeling I'm being insulted," comes an indignant voice, and Will whirls round, recognising it immediately.
And sure enough, there's Skandar, in the flesh, right there in front of him. He's been imagining this moment for the past five months. Every time, his mind conjured up dramatically romantic visions of he and Skandar spotting each other across a stretch of pale beach, running into each other's arms, embracing in front of cast and crew without a care in the world. But this is nothing like that. This is no elaborate, passionate movie scene -- he's not in this movie anymore.
Skandar looks older too, which he didn't expect. His hair's longer, slightly damp, swept across his forehead, and his freckles are more prominent than usual, from being out in the sun. Also, the only piece of clothing he's wearing is a pair of shorts.
"I didn't realise there were any scenes where Edmund is half-naked," teases Georgie, prodding Skandar in the ribs.
Skandar crosses his arms over his pale chest. His shoulders bear a raw, rosy flush of sunburn and there's a sheen of sweat across his skin. He looks so good, and Will wants to say so, but there are too many people around. He hasn't even said hello yet.
"It's too hot," Skandar retorts. "I'm not exactly going to be walking around in a bloody polo-neck in this weather, am I?"
"And you wonder why you get burnt..." sighs Will P., shaking his head.
"Oh, you can talk," laughs Skandar. "Show Will your legs."
He doesn't look at Will, even when he says his name. Will P. colours slightly and pulls up the left leg of his trousers to reveal the bright red skin underneath.
"Ouch," says Will sympathetically.
"Hi, by the way," Skandar says, then, finally looking at him and giving him a goofy grin.
He holds out his hand, and Will takes it. Skandar's palm is sweaty in his as they do their signature handshake, and at the end, Skandar pulls him into a brief hug.
"Ah, young lovers reunited," says Ben with a sigh. "Beautiful sight, isn't it?"
Georgie bursts out laughing, and Will P. chuckles nervously.
"Shut up," says Skandar. "How much longer do we have?"
"I don't know, an hour or so," says Ben. "Michael was a bit vague."
"Right," says Skandar, turning to Will again. "Do you want to see my trailer?"
Will runs his fingers through his sweaty hair, squinting back at Skandar in the sun. His sunglasses are still in his suitcase, which he's still -- rather idiotically -- holding onto by the handle.
"Yeah," he says, voice a little hoarse. "Yeah, okay."
"Do you want a drink?" Skandar asks, pottering about as Will sits gingerly on the bed.
During Prince Caspian, Skandar's trailer was just as much Will's as it was his own. And vice versa. They shared them, pretty much, spending equal amounts of time in each. Will could wander in at any hour, not bothering to knock. He could help himself to a snack from Skandar's fridge, throw himself down onto the bed after a long day of sword-fighting and stunts, flick through whatever book or magazine was lying around. He felt comfortable. He knew where everything was. The two of them could curl up together on the bed during a break in filming, and listen through the thin windows to the sound of the girls bickering outside, or the rain pattering down on the roof.
This trailer is different. It's smaller. A strange, dull beige colour instead of white. The furniture is laid out differently and Will can't even work out where the fridge actually is until Skandar has opened it and pulled out a can of Coke, waving it in front of Will's face.
"Earth to Will," he's saying, grinning.
"Oh," says Will, taking it, "thanks."
Skandar sits down next to him with his own can and for a while, they just sip in silence. They've kept in touch via email and text, and the occasional phone call, so there's not much news to trade. Will opens his mouth and then shuts it again. He was going to say I missed you but the words don't want to seem to leave his mouth.
"Will seems nice," he says instead. He's finished his Coke already -- he didn't realise how thirsty he was. He fidgets with the empty can.
"Mm," Skandar agrees, and swallows. "He is. I thought it'd be really weird having someone new around but it's just like it was with Ben, really. He fit in pretty easily."
Will nods, slowly. He doesn't really have much to say back to that. He knows he shouldn't feel -- well, whatever it is he's feeling. It's a sort of jealousy, he supposes. Knowing that there's another Will here, taking his place, probably hanging out in Skandar's trailer all the time. It's weird thinking about how these friendships have been formed. When they first met Will P., they were all together, and it was the leaving party for Ben, Skandar and Georgie. Will P. seemed quiet and rather intimidated. And now he and Skandar are getting on like old friends.
"How's Michael?" asks Will, wanting to fill the silence, wanting to get his train of thought onto a slightly different track.
"Where's Michael, is the real question," says Skandar. He burps loudly, and puts his Coke can on the bedside table next to an alarm clock. He peers at the time. "This break has been going on for ages, I think he's forgotten about the film altogether."
They laugh, but then sink immediately back into silence again.
"I missed you," Will says eventually, but he's thought the words through so much that when he actually says them, they sound calculated, almost emotionless.
Skandar doesn't seem to notice though. He grins, all teeth, and takes the empty can out of Will's hand to toss it across the room into a bin. "Me too," he says, and he seems to take the moment as an opportunity for a kiss, which admittedly catches Will off-guard.
Skandar's skin is slick with sun cream and sweat, and his mouth, hot and open under Will's, is Coke-sweet. Will is a little stiff at first, unable to shake the unfamiliarity of the situation, but he figures it's just because it's been a while. He hasn't had this for quite a few months, after all. He breathes out slowly, trying to relax, and presses against Skandar, laying him down on the bed like he's done many times before in other trailers, hotel rooms, bedrooms, and Skandar's long slender fingers comb through his hair, cradling his head.
"You smell like airport," he chuckles softly against Will's lips.
"Yeah, well, you smell like you bathed in SPF 30, but I'm not saying anything," Will shoots back, and Skandar just grins, still, lifting his head up off the pillow to take Will's lips again.
Will relaxes a little more, his eyelids fluttering shut, his hands running down Skandar's chest and stomach to his skinny hips. This is okay. He can forget the time he spent without him, forget the other stresses of today, forget his surroundings. This is what he's been missing, waiting for, counting down until for so long.
Slowly he becomes aware of voices outside the trailer -- Georgie excitedly telling a story, and someone (Will P., he thinks) laughing, chipping in occasionally with comments. Will's not worried, he knows that they're all giving him and Skandar a bit of time to catch up, but it bothers him anyway. He can't just close his eyes and pretend it's two years ago, not when this is a different set with different people and everything has changed.
"What?" Skandar murmurs, sensing that something's wrong.
"Nothing," says Will, brushing it off.
Skandar wraps his arms and legs around him and rolls over so that he's on top of him, straddling him at the hips. "Hey," he says gently, leaning down to kiss him softly.
"Let's go find Michael," Will blurts out. "I'd like to meet him again. You know, Andrew's not here this time so I might be able to get a word in edgeways without them trading their director stories."
He laughs nervously, and Skandar frowns. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," says Will. "I just want to spend some time with everyone else as well."
Skandar rolls his eyes. "You're staying for a few more days, you can spend time with them then."
"This just feels like I'm being kind of anti-social," Will says meekly.
"Ugh," Skandar sighs, clambering off him and standing up. "Typical you."
The rest of Will's visit passes quickly, but not because he's having fun.
It's not that he's not having fun, because actually, as strange and different as it is, it's still a good time to hang out with Skandar and Ben and Georgie again, and Will P. is friendly and actually sort of quietly witty and clever. Every now and then, there are jokes and stories between the four that Will doesn't get, but in general, it's okay.
They celebrate Ben's birthday on the beach, with loud music and fireworks and a cake Georgie attempted to make, fondly nicknamed by Will P. 'The Disaster'. In the evening, he and Ben have one of their long, drunken talks about The Future and Where They See Themselves In Five Years' Time, lying on blankets on the sand. It's one of those moments where Will realises how much he's missed them all, and one where he realises that maybe nothing much has changed after all.
Georgie confides in him that she fancies Will P., and Will's surprised to hear that he's the first person she's told.
"Oh, thanks," she scoffs, "because I have such a big mouth?"
"No," he tells her. "I just thought you would have told Ben or Skandar first."
"Are you kidding?" she says, looking at him like he's crazy. "They'd torture me about it. And you know how Ben is with secrets. Will would know about it after about ten minutes."
She sort of blushes when she talks about him, even though all she really says is that he's 'just so nice', and Will thinks about how much she's grown up. He was upset about missing out on it, but now he knows he's still a big part of her life, still a big brother to her, somebody to tell her secrets to because she trusts him not to tease her or tell everybody. When he hugs her, she tells him that she really missed him.
By the end of the visit, he's even getting on quite well with Michael and Will P. He and Michael end up getting into a long discussion about what cinema means to them, after dinner one night, which bores everybody else to tears, but Will finds it fascinating. And to his surprise, Will P. comes to him one day saying he's noticed Will's discomfort and he hopes it's not his fault.
"This must be...really weird for you," he says nervously, picking his fingernails, "and I just wanted to say that I get that, and I'm not...trying to steal everybody away from you."
He ends up telling him all about his first days on set and how out of place he felt, how he thought he'd never get to know them, or fit in. He talks about sitting there in silence during conversations he couldn't join in with, and about being the only one not laughing at an inside joke, and Will starts to realise that maybe they've got quite a lot in common.
In fact, the only time when things are really not okay is when it's just him and Skandar, and even though that's the only problem, it's a big enough one to ruin the whole visit.
He shares Skandar's trailer, Skandar's bed. They don't talk much, and when they do the conversation is halting and awkward. They kiss even less than they talk, and Will finds himself making excuses, always saying they have to get back to the others, or pretending he hears Michael calling their names. He doesn't think he's usually the type of person to run away from a problem, to pretend like it doesn't exist, but this one upsets him so much that he just can't bear to face it.
It takes the whole visit for the issue to even be addressed. He wakes up early on the morning of the day he's leaving, to the feel of a hand sneaking its way into his boxers.
"Oh," he says, blearily coming to his senses, feeling Skandar's body curled against his back. There's a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. "No," he says, "Skandar, I'm not in the mood."
Skandar doesn't move or speak for a moment, and then he says, "You're not a girl, Will, come on."
"I just -- not now, okay?"
"Not now?" Skandar repeats. "You're leaving today and we've barely done anything the whole time you've been here. Will, come on, it's been like five months."
He doesn't mean to say it, but he's still half-asleep and hardly thinking. "Well, maybe I need another five to get used to this."
Skandar draws back. "What?" he says quietly.
"Nothing," Will sighs, rubbing his eyes. He brings his knees up to his chest, curling up tightly. "Forget it."
"Don't tell me what to do," Skandar snaps. "Listen, just because you're jealous or paranoid or whatever, it doesn't mean you have to -- you can't just ignore me, okay?"
"Me?" says Will incredulously. He rolls over to face Skandar. "I'm ignoring you? You've hardly said a word to me while I've been here, you've just been carrying on with everything like I didn't travel like five thousand miles to see you."
"Well, it took you long enough," Skandar shoots back. "And you've been going to all this effort to catch up with Ben and Georgie, to get to know practically everybody on set, but--"
He stops talking abruptly and heaves a sigh.
"But what?"
Skandar sighs again. "Just forget it," he snaps. "This obviously isn't that important to you."
"Skandar, I'm sorry," says Will helplessly, as Skandar rolls over and Will's left talking to the back of his head. "I'm not trying to make it difficult, it just -- it all feels weird."
He can almost hear Skandar rolling his eyes at this. "Well, get over it," comes the response. "You always said it wasn't going to be weird. You said you were done with the whole Narn--"
"Yeah, and I was," Will interrupts, "I am, I mean, it's just I never thought about what it would be like to come back to it, and see someone else in my place, and see you still doing it and experiencing it all. Without me."
The words come back to him almost instantly, ringing out in the air as Will's left speechless.
"Get over your fucking ego, Will."
They pretend like everything's okay as everybody sees Will off at the airport. When he gets home, he half-expects to find an email from Skandar, or to receive a phone call from him, giving an apology. After a few weeks, he starts to think maybe the apology has to come from him, but when he really thinks about it, he realises he doesn't know what needs to be said.
He rings Anna, instead, intending to ask her for advice. He asks for more details about how her trip to the set went. He'd heard about it back when she returned, of course, but this time he wants to know how she felt. She's not particularly helpful, busy and rushed and doing several things at once while talking to him. She tells him it felt a bit strange for her too, but that it was exactly what she expected.
"Oh," he says quietly.
It's early in the morning and he's curled up on his sofa drinking a cup of tea. He's in the mood for a good long talk, actually, in need of relationship advice from Anna, but she's never been more busy and it seems like ages since they've had a proper chat. It's just another way that things are changing, and the thought makes his heart sink.
"Did you and Skandar get into a fight?" she asks suddenly, disapprovingly.
Will is speechless. He knew she was perceptive, but not psychic.
"He was emailing to let me know when they wrap," she continues, "and I mentioned you, and he didn't seem very..."
"What did he say?" Will interrupts.
"Oh, it was just something silly, I can't remember," says Anna, and Will knows she's lying. "Something about the premiere and how maybe he didn't want you there after all because you didn't seem that bothered. He didn't mean it, though. I mean, we're both invited."
That's not really the point. Will knows Skandar doesn't actually have the power to stop him coming to the premiere (though he's joked about it a few times, saying he's not going to let Will steal the limelight, teasing him about leaving him on the other side of the barrier with the fans) but the idea that he doesn't want him to? That hurts.
"Will?" Anna prompts him, and he realises he hasn't spoken. "Look, it's you two, so I know it was over something stupid--"
"Hey!" Will cries indignantly. "It wasn't. It's just -- the whole thing felt really...bizarre."
"Well, I'm not letting you two split up because you 'felt bizarre', Will," says Anna, "that's ridiculous."
"No, no," Will protests. He can hear her shuffling papers in the background. This isn't really the heart-to-heart he was wanting. "I mean...I feel like he's moved on. Everything over there was so different. He was different."
"Well, he's growing up, Will," Anna says sensibly. "Unless you're telling me he's actually met somebody else, I don't think any of this is surprising, or a reason to end things. Just talk to him."
She says it like it's the most simple thing in the world, but it's not.
He spends a while trying to build up the confidence to make the phone call, and planning out what he'll say. It's a bit stupid, really, but he wants to make sure it goes okay, and he doesn't want to just ring up out of the blue and start saying things he doesn't really mean. But when he finally calls, he gets nothing. No answer message, not even ringing. Puzzled, he tries again, checking the number several times, but the same thing happens.
Every day for about two weeks.
He doesn't want to text or email, because that's far too impersonal. After a while he starts to wonder if it'd be easier for him to just drop by Skandar's actual house, but then he risks bumping into Skandar's parents and having to explain what he's doing there (they always ask), and they've never been too supportive of his relationship with their son. Eventually he works up the courage to ring Skandar's house, but when he's not home a few nights in a row, the brief conversations with Skandar's Dad start to get awkward and he just can't bring himself to do it anymore.
And as if things aren't complicated enough, rehearsals for a play he's going to be in start up, and his free time dwindles to almost nothing over the following months. Anna got him the part, actually, sort of. She did a play at the same theatre, and recommended Will when she heard about something they were casting for. He's been wanting to try stage for a while and, while it's harder than he expected, he's enjoying the challenge.
He almost forgets about Skandar entirely, when performances begin. He really loses himself in the play, gives it everything he's got. He meets a guy called Adam who has a small part in a few scenes with him, and they go out for drinks a few times, getting on really well. One night they drink a little more than usual and end up in Adam's bed, and that's the moment where everything sort of shifts, and continues on its way, and Will tentatively wonders if this is what moving on feels like.
Until one night he returns to his flat after a show to find his phone ringing insistently.
His heart leaps into his throat and he grabs the phone instantly, but it's not Skandar on the other end, it's Ben.
"You," Ben says, "were awesome."
"What?" says Will, stunned. "You mean--?"
"The scene, with the guy, and the other guy, and that old woman -- that was so good," Ben goes on, vaguely. Will feels like he's done the play about eighty times already but he's still not sure which scene Ben means. "I think Georgie cried," he adds, "but don't tell her I told you."
"You were there? Tonight?" Will asks. His grin is threatening to split his face in two.
"We all were," Ben says happily. "Well done, mate."
"You all were?" Will echoes.
"Me, Skan, Georgie, Anna," Ben confirms. "Will P. would've come but he wanted to give us some time just the four of us. Andrew says he's got a ticket for next Wednesday."
"You didn't say anything!"
"Well, you didn't invite us," Ben chuckles. "So we had to take matters into our own hands. We were going to wait for you by the stage door but we had a Pizza Express reservation."
"Can't miss Pizza Express," Will laughs. "Listen -- Ben -- do you think you could put Skandar on?"
Ben makes a sort of low, whistling sound. "Oh, I would, mate," he says, "but he just left. Literally, just before I rang you. He said he had to get home."
Will's face falls. "Oh."
"We'll have to all meet up some time, though, all five of us. Will P. can come too if someone's willing to spend about an hour beforehand assuring him he's not intruding," Ben carries on cheerily. "We'll do it before the premiere, yeah? I mean, that's months away, so of course we'll all see each other before then."
They don't.
It's not like they don't try, but it seems like there's not a single date between then and April that each and every one of them is free. First of all, it's the holiday season, and after that, it's difficult for Skandar, Will P. and Georgie because they've all got school. Anna's got university, and Ben's got about thirty auditions, and Will still gets nothing when he rings Skandar. He feels like suddenly he's the only one with any time to himself, and over the next month or so, he fills it by watching every single episode of Scrubs ever made, and waiting for the phone to ring. He finds himself wondering whether it should really be this hard.
One night in February, alone again, sitting in front of the TV, he wonders whether they've all just stopped caring, and that thought scares him more than anything else in the world.
Will, Anna and Andrew have separate arrangements for getting to the premiere, different ones to the others. Will supposes he should have expected that, seeing as he and Anna aren't actually in this movie, and Andrew only had a small part in the production. But it's still strange, to travel to New York on a separate flight, on a different day, and to stay in a different hotel.
As he slowly puts on his suit in his hotel room, he feels just as much of an attachment to the movie as he did when he went to, say, the Pirates of the Caribbean premiere a few years back -- it means nothing, they're just guests now.
His feelings change a bit on the red carpet, as he walks down beside Anna, kids all around them, screaming their names. The pictures held out for him to sign depict a version of him that is more than two years old, and he's struck with a strange sense of detachment as he reads the name Peter Pevensie on some of the out-of-date promotional photos.
"Well, this is different," Anna murmurs in his ear as they head inside, but she's smiling, taking all of this in her stride.
The stars of the film arrive much later. Will had expected their paths to cross on the red carpet, he thought that Skandar would spot him from a distance while talking to the press, and thought maybe he'd be unable to hold back, realising just how much he'd missed him. He thought they'd make up right there and then, both apologising, both agreeing to leave it all behind them.
But he's starting to learn that things just don't work like that, and he only sees Skandar when he's standing in front of the screen with Ben and Georgie and Will P., introducing the film. Skandar's wearing a suit, and, at eighteen years old, he no longer looks awkward in one. He's charming and confident as he thanks the still-screaming fans.
Will just stares, motionless in his cinema seat, waiting for the credits that won't show his name.
"I've never had an out of body experience," says Anna, slightly randomly, as they hang around at the after-party, sipping wine in a corner.
"Me...neither?" says Will cluelessly. He looks around the room. He knows they're early, but he can't help but worry that somehow he's going to miss out on seeing Skandar altogether. And if they can't even manage to see each other here, will they ever see each other again?
Anna laughs, warmly. "No, I mean, I've never had one, but I imagine they're kind of like this," she explains.
She's finding this strange too, Will knows, and that's a relief in a way, to know that someone's going through the same thing as he is. But she seems to find it amusing, she's still having fun. Because she's got the faith that this will all sort itself out in the end.
Suddenly, she's leaping up and waving her arms in the air. "Hey, over here!" she yells, ignoring the people sitting near them that she's alarming.
Will looks over to where she's waving, and sees them -- Michael leading, Ben fidgeting with something and showing it to a bemused Will P., Georgie animatedly explaining something to Skandar. Will gets to his feet too, brushing himself down, anxiously watching the approaching group. He notices their easy comfort and something inside him aches as he watches them interact. He finds himself wondering if they've all been seeing each other regularly since Dawn Treader wrapped, if it's only him that's been left out. After all, Anna's seen them more recently than he has.
But then they're spotted, and Ben is cheering and Skandar's grinning, and Will P. and Michael are waving shyly. The next few moments are a blur -- Georgie speeds across the floor, almost headbutting him in the chest with the force of her hug, and Skandar wraps his arms around Anna and spins her around in circles. When Georgie releases her death-grip around Will's waist, he's getting a handshake from Michael, and then a handshake that turns into an awkward hug from Will P., as Ben kisses Anna on both cheeks, loudly. All Will can hear is jumbled cries of "I missed you so much!" and "It's been so long!" as Ben moves on to hug him tightly, clapping him on the back as always.
Everybody's talking all at once as soon as the crowd separates again, and Will meets Skandar's eyes for a split second, stepping forward, but then Andrew comes bounding up to the group and it's hugs and kisses all around all over again. The words blur around him as everybody naturally begins their own conversations. Anna's taking a small plastic boat from Ben's hands, and he's explaining that a fan gave it to him and he thinks maybe it's meant to be the Dawn Treader despite it looking more like the Titanic. Georgie and Will P. are talking a mile a minute (even though they've been together all evening) and Skandar is reaching for a glass of wine from a nearby table. Will's seen him drinking before, of course (there've been at least two occasions when he's had to practically carry an utterly plastered Skandar back home) but never legally, never so casually and openly, at one of these events.
Their eyes meet again and Will hears himself saying, "Happy ridiculously late birthday."
Skandar frowns, leaning forwards. "What?"
"Happy ridiculously late birthday," Will repeats, feeling his cheeks flush.
"Oh," says Skandar, and laughs. "Thanks. And, well done, for the play and everything."
Will nods. "Well done for the movie!" he says, shifting from one foot to the other, anxiously.
"I suppose it's the thought that counts," Anna's saying, inspecting the toy boat, as Ben laughs.
"Go on, tell them," Will P. is muttering to Georgie, his quiet, sweet voice tinged with an unusual sort of urgency that Will would pay more attention to if he wasn't too busy trying to work out what the hell his next step should be.
"I tried to ring you, you know," he says in the end. "I couldn't get through."
"What?" Skandar asks, taking a large gulp of wine. "Oh, I got a new phone. For my birthday. It's got a new number, I meant to send out a message telling everybody..."
"Oh, right," says Will, feeling stupid.
"You could've emailed or something, you know," Skandar reminds him, making him feel even more stupid.
It's not fair for Skandar to act like this, seeing as he didn't even attempt contact all this time. That's something he hasn't really paid much attention to, but now it's obvious, and painful.
"I was going to," Will replies, wishing they were talking about this in private, "but I thought--"
"Georgie has something to say," Will P. says timidly, and even though he's speaking quietly, somehow he gets everybody's attention. Quite impressive, for this group, Will thinks.
Will's still looking at Skandar, but Skandar's lost interest in their conversation already, and is grinning at Will P. and nudging Ben with his elbow.
Georgie rolls her eyes. "Okay," she sighs, "I didn't want to make a big deal about it or anything, but somebody has turned it into an announcement..." she shoots Will P. a pointed look but he just grins, "...Will and I are kinda...going out."
Despite his own relationship troubles (if what he has with Skandar can even be called a relationship anymore), Will finds himself overjoyed by this news. He remembers Georgie's confession last year, and he remembers all the times he saw the two of them talking, and he looks at them now and grins. Anna claps her hands and pulls a blushing and protesting Georgie into a hug, and then Andrew laughs and says something along the lines of "They grow up so fast!", which causes Georgie thump him half-heartedly.
"Congratulations," Will grins, and Georgie rolls her eyes again.
"We're not getting married," she says, running a hand back through her hair, flustered. "I just wanted everyone to know."
It takes more than an hour for Will and Skandar to get any time alone. They're all just sitting around, catching up, but Skandar's avoiding looking him in the eye, while everybody else (tactfully, obviously at least somewhat aware of the circumstances) acts like everything's perfectly okay.
As Will sits there, listening to the chatter around him, he starts to wonder if this thing with Skandar is beyond repair. If this is it. Perhaps not making enough of an effort in the beginning has caused them to drift apart for good. At functions, they'll see each other and they'll be able to be civil, but that's it.
There'll be no more sleepovers, whether at Skandar's (Will slipping out of the sleeping bag on the floor to squeeze into Skandar's single bed with him, and later muffling their moans against hands and pillows), or at Will's (pizza and beer, staying up late playing Xbox and then having sex all night, sleeping in until the afternoon). There'll be no more disasterous attempts at romance -- no more fancy homecooked meals to be ruined and replaced with beans on toast, no more candles all over the bedroom to set Skandar's duvet on fire. No more teasing each other about bad haircuts, no more bickering over who gets to do things first, not even anymore full-on arguments, the ones that last weeks and have to be patched up by Anna. No more kissing and making up.
Not even any more friendship.
He looks around, sees Georgie stealing Anna's bracelet and sliding it onto her own wrist, sees Ben acting out an epic shipwreck of the Dawn Treader/Titanic in a sea of blue napkins, sees Skandar and Will P. cracking up as they watch. He wonders how they can act like this is all okay, like they've still got something secure that they know they can hold onto, when Will feels like he's managed to lose it all in less than a year.
When Andrew produces old, fingerprint-smudged photographs taken on the set of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, Will feels his eyes beginning to well up and he excuses himself, pushing through the crowds of people and trying to find the bathroom. He only saw one picture -- the four of them, huddled together in their fur coats on set, all pink cheeks and cheesy grins. He's never going to get those days back. He knew it all along but somehow it really hits him now, and he finds an empty corridor and just shuts down, hands pressed over his face, his head throbbing.
He's been there for less than a minute when he hears a familiar voice say, "D'you need some air?"
They wander, outside in the warm darkness, aimless and silent. They're about a block away from the venue when Skandar says it.
"I didn't realise how much I'd missed you til I saw you again."
Will doesn't say anything. It's too late for this now, there's no point. Even if they make up now, it'll all be false, just doing it because they feel like they have to, just to clear the air.
"It's all my fault," Skandar goes on. He kicks violently at a stone on the pavement. "It's -- fuck. At least you tried to get in touch. Dad said you rang every night for like a week, back in October or something, and I never rang back. Not even once. I was still mad at you until I saw you in that play. And then I really missed you, and I wanted to talk to you, but I thought you'd be mad at me, so I never rang, and -- Will, just say something, please?"
Will sort of laughs, hollowly. "What's the point, Skan?" he says. "Neither of us made much of an effort so that must mean neither of us really care."
"But I care," Skandar insists. "I didn't realise how much I cared. I thought we were just drifting apart and Ben said that's what happens with this kind of thing and I thought maybe it was better just to let it happen instead of sort of desperately clinging to it and fucking things up."
"Well, maybe you were right the first time," Will says bitterly. He stops walking. He turns to Skandar and tries to look him in the eye, but he can't. "Maybe we should just leave it."
"Do you want to?" Skandar asks.
His voice is nothing like Will's ever heard it, it's sort of hollow and empty and broken, like he's stripped bare and exhausted, and just opening up, regardless of the consquences. And that, Will realises, that is what being an adult is about. That is something Skandar's never been, never done -- he's always avoided this sort of confrontation, this sort of serious 'what's happening?' talk, and always fought back at all the problems with insults and sulking. Both of them have always left somebody else to pick up the pieces, waited for somebody else to give them a push in the right direction, and this time, it's all up to them, nobody else. And Skandar's eighteen and he's grown up and he's wanting to sort this out -- whether they break up or make up, he wants something other than the long, stretching silence they've had for so long now.
"No," says Will, eventually, and his voice sounds like Skandar's, hurt and weak. He's so close to tears that he's having to blink them back and he feels absolutely pathetic. "No, I don't want that, you know I don't want that, but--"
"Then please don't let that happen," Skandar interrupts, sounding calmer this time, more in control. Matter-of-fact and sensible, like Anna telling him to 'just talk to him' like it was so easy.
"It's already happening," Will says, shaking his head, and he looks down at the pavement, squeezing his eyes shut.
Skandar's grabbing him before he has a chance to process what's happening, grabbing him by the shoulders and tilting his head up and kissing him with a rough, wet slide of his lips, urgent and needy and forceful, one hand sliding up his neck to clutch a handful of his hair and bring him closer, as close as he can possibly be. Will sighs, almost whimpers, mouth falling open with ease, their tongues touching, pushing, tasting. All at once it feels like it's been forever, and like it's been no time at all, and Will doesn't care that they're in public, in the middle of a fucking pavement on the night the movie's premiered, because this is what's been missing. This, or rather the lack of this, is the cause of that indistinct, aching empty feeling he's had for so long now, that hole in his life (in his heart) that no amount of plays or episodes of Scrubs or guys called Adam could fill.
When they eventually part, Will's panting, honest to god panting like he hasn't properly breathed in months, and Skandar's eyes are dark and pleading as he says, "Then let's make it stop."
"I know this is so, so, stupidly overdue," says Will, a little while later, as the two of them lie on Skandar's hotel bed, facing each other, limbs entangled. "But I want to apologise for the way I freaked out in Mexico. I just...wasn't ready to see everything change the way it had."
Skandar nods, listening, letting Will talk as he traces lazy patterns on Will's arm with his fingertip.
"I think I was just so busy trying to convince myself that I was ready, and that it was all fine and that I didn't care," Will goes on. "Saying I was done with it and I was ready to move on. I think I was just too scared to admit how much of a big deal it really was to me."
"I know," says Skandar sympathetically. "I think I worked that out before you did," he jokes.
"Oh, well, thanks for enlightening me," Will teases. God, he's missed this.
"I guess I owe you an apology too," Skandar says. "I shouldn't have tried to rush things. It was just hard to imagine how it was for you to see it all for the first time when I'd already gotten used to it. And I didn't expect it to affect...you know, us."
Will nods, and there's a pause, a quiet stillness, as Skandar looks into his eyes.
"You're used to it now, though?" Skandar asks carefully.
"Yeah," says Will. He thinks about the three films, the three experiences, and the differences between them, and he thinks about the uncertainty in what lies ahead. "Yeah," he says again, smiling sadly. "I guess I'm starting to realise that everything comes to an end."
"No," says Skandar softly. He leans in, presses his lips to Will's, warm and sure. "Not this."
And Will doesn't speak, doesn't smile, doesn't agree or disagree. He doesn't want to talk about what comes next or what anything means, or what they'll need to do to make this work. All he wants to do is lie here with Skandar, and kiss him, harder, as the New York roads outside the hotel window still hum with lights and noise, and the celebrations still continue down the street. He wants them to make love, as the others back at the party reminisce about when they all used to work together. He wants to curl up with Skandar and sleep, as everybody else is making toasts to the past (Anna chuckling to herself as she flicks through the old photos), and to change (Michael and Will P., still smiling shyly, sharing their first Narnia premiere experience), and to new beginnings (Will P. and Georgie, sneaking champagne together later, giggling and kissing in a corner). And tomorrow, he wants to wake up with Skandar's arms around him, and go out with everybody for breakfast, and make amends.
Because these films, and these people, have been a huge part of his life for so many years, and he's not going to let them leave it.
No matter how hard it gets.
End.
Ilu, bb. So much! ♥ I love that we've only known each other for like six months or so but it feels like it's been forever. And I love that we can spend ages on MSN squeeing over Will and Skandar and how it always turns into spontaneous crack!fic after a while. XD And how you can give me comforting, non-judgemental advice about my lovelife even when it's at its craziest. You're awesome and I'm so glad we're friends. I hope you have an AMAZING day. ♥♥♥
And here is your present. :)
Title: after the bars turn out their lights
Author: likecharity
Pairing: Will/Skandar (some Georgie/Will P.)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Real person slash
Summary: When The Voyage Of The Dawn Treader begins filming, everything changes.
A/N: Written for thisissirius, for her birthday. Slightly more angsty than I expected, but I hope it still fits your prompt, bb. Also, everyone can just invent their own timeline to make this work for them, writing future!fic confuses the hell out of me.
i'll wear my badge
a vinyl sticker with big block letters
adhere it to my chest
that tells your new friends
i am a visitor here, i am not permanent
the postal service - the district sleeps alone tonight
[download]
It's already the last month of shooting by the time Will manages to organise his visit to the Dawn Treader set. Anna went at the end of June, but he was still tied up doing Iron Clad, and everything just kept being extended and delayed and postponed until finally, finally he was on a plane heading to Mexico. He's been to Mexico before, but never this part. It's big and hot and unfamiliar when he gets off the plane, but all of it's in a good way, an exciting way.
The movie set is big and hot and unfamiliar too, and it's scary and strange, and as he walks along he doesn't know if he's ever felt more out of place in his life. There are a few people he recognises, but they're mixed in with so many strangers that it just feels wrong. He sees Ben, suddenly, a few metres away, swigging from a bottle of water. Their eyes meet, and Ben's light up.
"Yo, homo!" Ben greets him, trotting over. He's in costume, all loose blue fabric that seems to glimmer under the hot sun, and his skin is dark with Caspian's tan.
"Yo yourself," Will grins, as Ben pulls him into one of those clap-on-the-back hugs.
When Georgie appears, and comes running over too, Will can hardly believe his eyes. She's grown a good few inches and she looks so much older.
"Oh my god, look at you!" he's saying, perfectly aware that he sounds like an aunt or something but he can't help it. "Where's Georgie? Who's this young lady?"
Georgie rolls her eyes. "Oh shut up," she laughs, holding out her arms for a hug.
He tries to lift her up like he used to, but she's too heavy now. He holds her close -- he's missed a good Georgie-hug. When she pulls away he notices a familiar, shy-looking blonde boy standing behind her.
"Will, you remember Will," chuckles Ben, gesturing between them.
Will Poulter steps forward, smiling. "Hi," he says.
"Hi," says Will back, and there's a slightly awkward silence.
It's strange to see someone standing there between Ben and Georgie, where he would usually be. He can't help thinking that, even though he promised himself he wouldn't dwell on it. It's not Will's fault, it's not anybody's fault, it's just that it's strange.
"Hope you're surviving," he tries to joke, "being in the company of this lot 24/7."
Will P. laughs. "I'm doing my best."
"I have the feeling I'm being insulted," comes an indignant voice, and Will whirls round, recognising it immediately.
And sure enough, there's Skandar, in the flesh, right there in front of him. He's been imagining this moment for the past five months. Every time, his mind conjured up dramatically romantic visions of he and Skandar spotting each other across a stretch of pale beach, running into each other's arms, embracing in front of cast and crew without a care in the world. But this is nothing like that. This is no elaborate, passionate movie scene -- he's not in this movie anymore.
Skandar looks older too, which he didn't expect. His hair's longer, slightly damp, swept across his forehead, and his freckles are more prominent than usual, from being out in the sun. Also, the only piece of clothing he's wearing is a pair of shorts.
"I didn't realise there were any scenes where Edmund is half-naked," teases Georgie, prodding Skandar in the ribs.
Skandar crosses his arms over his pale chest. His shoulders bear a raw, rosy flush of sunburn and there's a sheen of sweat across his skin. He looks so good, and Will wants to say so, but there are too many people around. He hasn't even said hello yet.
"It's too hot," Skandar retorts. "I'm not exactly going to be walking around in a bloody polo-neck in this weather, am I?"
"And you wonder why you get burnt..." sighs Will P., shaking his head.
"Oh, you can talk," laughs Skandar. "Show Will your legs."
He doesn't look at Will, even when he says his name. Will P. colours slightly and pulls up the left leg of his trousers to reveal the bright red skin underneath.
"Ouch," says Will sympathetically.
"Hi, by the way," Skandar says, then, finally looking at him and giving him a goofy grin.
He holds out his hand, and Will takes it. Skandar's palm is sweaty in his as they do their signature handshake, and at the end, Skandar pulls him into a brief hug.
"Ah, young lovers reunited," says Ben with a sigh. "Beautiful sight, isn't it?"
Georgie bursts out laughing, and Will P. chuckles nervously.
"Shut up," says Skandar. "How much longer do we have?"
"I don't know, an hour or so," says Ben. "Michael was a bit vague."
"Right," says Skandar, turning to Will again. "Do you want to see my trailer?"
Will runs his fingers through his sweaty hair, squinting back at Skandar in the sun. His sunglasses are still in his suitcase, which he's still -- rather idiotically -- holding onto by the handle.
"Yeah," he says, voice a little hoarse. "Yeah, okay."
"Do you want a drink?" Skandar asks, pottering about as Will sits gingerly on the bed.
During Prince Caspian, Skandar's trailer was just as much Will's as it was his own. And vice versa. They shared them, pretty much, spending equal amounts of time in each. Will could wander in at any hour, not bothering to knock. He could help himself to a snack from Skandar's fridge, throw himself down onto the bed after a long day of sword-fighting and stunts, flick through whatever book or magazine was lying around. He felt comfortable. He knew where everything was. The two of them could curl up together on the bed during a break in filming, and listen through the thin windows to the sound of the girls bickering outside, or the rain pattering down on the roof.
This trailer is different. It's smaller. A strange, dull beige colour instead of white. The furniture is laid out differently and Will can't even work out where the fridge actually is until Skandar has opened it and pulled out a can of Coke, waving it in front of Will's face.
"Earth to Will," he's saying, grinning.
"Oh," says Will, taking it, "thanks."
Skandar sits down next to him with his own can and for a while, they just sip in silence. They've kept in touch via email and text, and the occasional phone call, so there's not much news to trade. Will opens his mouth and then shuts it again. He was going to say I missed you but the words don't want to seem to leave his mouth.
"Will seems nice," he says instead. He's finished his Coke already -- he didn't realise how thirsty he was. He fidgets with the empty can.
"Mm," Skandar agrees, and swallows. "He is. I thought it'd be really weird having someone new around but it's just like it was with Ben, really. He fit in pretty easily."
Will nods, slowly. He doesn't really have much to say back to that. He knows he shouldn't feel -- well, whatever it is he's feeling. It's a sort of jealousy, he supposes. Knowing that there's another Will here, taking his place, probably hanging out in Skandar's trailer all the time. It's weird thinking about how these friendships have been formed. When they first met Will P., they were all together, and it was the leaving party for Ben, Skandar and Georgie. Will P. seemed quiet and rather intimidated. And now he and Skandar are getting on like old friends.
"How's Michael?" asks Will, wanting to fill the silence, wanting to get his train of thought onto a slightly different track.
"Where's Michael, is the real question," says Skandar. He burps loudly, and puts his Coke can on the bedside table next to an alarm clock. He peers at the time. "This break has been going on for ages, I think he's forgotten about the film altogether."
They laugh, but then sink immediately back into silence again.
"I missed you," Will says eventually, but he's thought the words through so much that when he actually says them, they sound calculated, almost emotionless.
Skandar doesn't seem to notice though. He grins, all teeth, and takes the empty can out of Will's hand to toss it across the room into a bin. "Me too," he says, and he seems to take the moment as an opportunity for a kiss, which admittedly catches Will off-guard.
Skandar's skin is slick with sun cream and sweat, and his mouth, hot and open under Will's, is Coke-sweet. Will is a little stiff at first, unable to shake the unfamiliarity of the situation, but he figures it's just because it's been a while. He hasn't had this for quite a few months, after all. He breathes out slowly, trying to relax, and presses against Skandar, laying him down on the bed like he's done many times before in other trailers, hotel rooms, bedrooms, and Skandar's long slender fingers comb through his hair, cradling his head.
"You smell like airport," he chuckles softly against Will's lips.
"Yeah, well, you smell like you bathed in SPF 30, but I'm not saying anything," Will shoots back, and Skandar just grins, still, lifting his head up off the pillow to take Will's lips again.
Will relaxes a little more, his eyelids fluttering shut, his hands running down Skandar's chest and stomach to his skinny hips. This is okay. He can forget the time he spent without him, forget the other stresses of today, forget his surroundings. This is what he's been missing, waiting for, counting down until for so long.
Slowly he becomes aware of voices outside the trailer -- Georgie excitedly telling a story, and someone (Will P., he thinks) laughing, chipping in occasionally with comments. Will's not worried, he knows that they're all giving him and Skandar a bit of time to catch up, but it bothers him anyway. He can't just close his eyes and pretend it's two years ago, not when this is a different set with different people and everything has changed.
"What?" Skandar murmurs, sensing that something's wrong.
"Nothing," says Will, brushing it off.
Skandar wraps his arms and legs around him and rolls over so that he's on top of him, straddling him at the hips. "Hey," he says gently, leaning down to kiss him softly.
"Let's go find Michael," Will blurts out. "I'd like to meet him again. You know, Andrew's not here this time so I might be able to get a word in edgeways without them trading their director stories."
He laughs nervously, and Skandar frowns. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," says Will. "I just want to spend some time with everyone else as well."
Skandar rolls his eyes. "You're staying for a few more days, you can spend time with them then."
"This just feels like I'm being kind of anti-social," Will says meekly.
"Ugh," Skandar sighs, clambering off him and standing up. "Typical you."
The rest of Will's visit passes quickly, but not because he's having fun.
It's not that he's not having fun, because actually, as strange and different as it is, it's still a good time to hang out with Skandar and Ben and Georgie again, and Will P. is friendly and actually sort of quietly witty and clever. Every now and then, there are jokes and stories between the four that Will doesn't get, but in general, it's okay.
They celebrate Ben's birthday on the beach, with loud music and fireworks and a cake Georgie attempted to make, fondly nicknamed by Will P. 'The Disaster'. In the evening, he and Ben have one of their long, drunken talks about The Future and Where They See Themselves In Five Years' Time, lying on blankets on the sand. It's one of those moments where Will realises how much he's missed them all, and one where he realises that maybe nothing much has changed after all.
Georgie confides in him that she fancies Will P., and Will's surprised to hear that he's the first person she's told.
"Oh, thanks," she scoffs, "because I have such a big mouth?"
"No," he tells her. "I just thought you would have told Ben or Skandar first."
"Are you kidding?" she says, looking at him like he's crazy. "They'd torture me about it. And you know how Ben is with secrets. Will would know about it after about ten minutes."
She sort of blushes when she talks about him, even though all she really says is that he's 'just so nice', and Will thinks about how much she's grown up. He was upset about missing out on it, but now he knows he's still a big part of her life, still a big brother to her, somebody to tell her secrets to because she trusts him not to tease her or tell everybody. When he hugs her, she tells him that she really missed him.
By the end of the visit, he's even getting on quite well with Michael and Will P. He and Michael end up getting into a long discussion about what cinema means to them, after dinner one night, which bores everybody else to tears, but Will finds it fascinating. And to his surprise, Will P. comes to him one day saying he's noticed Will's discomfort and he hopes it's not his fault.
"This must be...really weird for you," he says nervously, picking his fingernails, "and I just wanted to say that I get that, and I'm not...trying to steal everybody away from you."
He ends up telling him all about his first days on set and how out of place he felt, how he thought he'd never get to know them, or fit in. He talks about sitting there in silence during conversations he couldn't join in with, and about being the only one not laughing at an inside joke, and Will starts to realise that maybe they've got quite a lot in common.
In fact, the only time when things are really not okay is when it's just him and Skandar, and even though that's the only problem, it's a big enough one to ruin the whole visit.
He shares Skandar's trailer, Skandar's bed. They don't talk much, and when they do the conversation is halting and awkward. They kiss even less than they talk, and Will finds himself making excuses, always saying they have to get back to the others, or pretending he hears Michael calling their names. He doesn't think he's usually the type of person to run away from a problem, to pretend like it doesn't exist, but this one upsets him so much that he just can't bear to face it.
It takes the whole visit for the issue to even be addressed. He wakes up early on the morning of the day he's leaving, to the feel of a hand sneaking its way into his boxers.
"Oh," he says, blearily coming to his senses, feeling Skandar's body curled against his back. There's a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. "No," he says, "Skandar, I'm not in the mood."
Skandar doesn't move or speak for a moment, and then he says, "You're not a girl, Will, come on."
"I just -- not now, okay?"
"Not now?" Skandar repeats. "You're leaving today and we've barely done anything the whole time you've been here. Will, come on, it's been like five months."
He doesn't mean to say it, but he's still half-asleep and hardly thinking. "Well, maybe I need another five to get used to this."
Skandar draws back. "What?" he says quietly.
"Nothing," Will sighs, rubbing his eyes. He brings his knees up to his chest, curling up tightly. "Forget it."
"Don't tell me what to do," Skandar snaps. "Listen, just because you're jealous or paranoid or whatever, it doesn't mean you have to -- you can't just ignore me, okay?"
"Me?" says Will incredulously. He rolls over to face Skandar. "I'm ignoring you? You've hardly said a word to me while I've been here, you've just been carrying on with everything like I didn't travel like five thousand miles to see you."
"Well, it took you long enough," Skandar shoots back. "And you've been going to all this effort to catch up with Ben and Georgie, to get to know practically everybody on set, but--"
He stops talking abruptly and heaves a sigh.
"But what?"
Skandar sighs again. "Just forget it," he snaps. "This obviously isn't that important to you."
"Skandar, I'm sorry," says Will helplessly, as Skandar rolls over and Will's left talking to the back of his head. "I'm not trying to make it difficult, it just -- it all feels weird."
He can almost hear Skandar rolling his eyes at this. "Well, get over it," comes the response. "You always said it wasn't going to be weird. You said you were done with the whole Narn--"
"Yeah, and I was," Will interrupts, "I am, I mean, it's just I never thought about what it would be like to come back to it, and see someone else in my place, and see you still doing it and experiencing it all. Without me."
The words come back to him almost instantly, ringing out in the air as Will's left speechless.
"Get over your fucking ego, Will."
They pretend like everything's okay as everybody sees Will off at the airport. When he gets home, he half-expects to find an email from Skandar, or to receive a phone call from him, giving an apology. After a few weeks, he starts to think maybe the apology has to come from him, but when he really thinks about it, he realises he doesn't know what needs to be said.
He rings Anna, instead, intending to ask her for advice. He asks for more details about how her trip to the set went. He'd heard about it back when she returned, of course, but this time he wants to know how she felt. She's not particularly helpful, busy and rushed and doing several things at once while talking to him. She tells him it felt a bit strange for her too, but that it was exactly what she expected.
"Oh," he says quietly.
It's early in the morning and he's curled up on his sofa drinking a cup of tea. He's in the mood for a good long talk, actually, in need of relationship advice from Anna, but she's never been more busy and it seems like ages since they've had a proper chat. It's just another way that things are changing, and the thought makes his heart sink.
"Did you and Skandar get into a fight?" she asks suddenly, disapprovingly.
Will is speechless. He knew she was perceptive, but not psychic.
"He was emailing to let me know when they wrap," she continues, "and I mentioned you, and he didn't seem very..."
"What did he say?" Will interrupts.
"Oh, it was just something silly, I can't remember," says Anna, and Will knows she's lying. "Something about the premiere and how maybe he didn't want you there after all because you didn't seem that bothered. He didn't mean it, though. I mean, we're both invited."
That's not really the point. Will knows Skandar doesn't actually have the power to stop him coming to the premiere (though he's joked about it a few times, saying he's not going to let Will steal the limelight, teasing him about leaving him on the other side of the barrier with the fans) but the idea that he doesn't want him to? That hurts.
"Will?" Anna prompts him, and he realises he hasn't spoken. "Look, it's you two, so I know it was over something stupid--"
"Hey!" Will cries indignantly. "It wasn't. It's just -- the whole thing felt really...bizarre."
"Well, I'm not letting you two split up because you 'felt bizarre', Will," says Anna, "that's ridiculous."
"No, no," Will protests. He can hear her shuffling papers in the background. This isn't really the heart-to-heart he was wanting. "I mean...I feel like he's moved on. Everything over there was so different. He was different."
"Well, he's growing up, Will," Anna says sensibly. "Unless you're telling me he's actually met somebody else, I don't think any of this is surprising, or a reason to end things. Just talk to him."
She says it like it's the most simple thing in the world, but it's not.
He spends a while trying to build up the confidence to make the phone call, and planning out what he'll say. It's a bit stupid, really, but he wants to make sure it goes okay, and he doesn't want to just ring up out of the blue and start saying things he doesn't really mean. But when he finally calls, he gets nothing. No answer message, not even ringing. Puzzled, he tries again, checking the number several times, but the same thing happens.
Every day for about two weeks.
He doesn't want to text or email, because that's far too impersonal. After a while he starts to wonder if it'd be easier for him to just drop by Skandar's actual house, but then he risks bumping into Skandar's parents and having to explain what he's doing there (they always ask), and they've never been too supportive of his relationship with their son. Eventually he works up the courage to ring Skandar's house, but when he's not home a few nights in a row, the brief conversations with Skandar's Dad start to get awkward and he just can't bring himself to do it anymore.
And as if things aren't complicated enough, rehearsals for a play he's going to be in start up, and his free time dwindles to almost nothing over the following months. Anna got him the part, actually, sort of. She did a play at the same theatre, and recommended Will when she heard about something they were casting for. He's been wanting to try stage for a while and, while it's harder than he expected, he's enjoying the challenge.
He almost forgets about Skandar entirely, when performances begin. He really loses himself in the play, gives it everything he's got. He meets a guy called Adam who has a small part in a few scenes with him, and they go out for drinks a few times, getting on really well. One night they drink a little more than usual and end up in Adam's bed, and that's the moment where everything sort of shifts, and continues on its way, and Will tentatively wonders if this is what moving on feels like.
Until one night he returns to his flat after a show to find his phone ringing insistently.
His heart leaps into his throat and he grabs the phone instantly, but it's not Skandar on the other end, it's Ben.
"You," Ben says, "were awesome."
"What?" says Will, stunned. "You mean--?"
"The scene, with the guy, and the other guy, and that old woman -- that was so good," Ben goes on, vaguely. Will feels like he's done the play about eighty times already but he's still not sure which scene Ben means. "I think Georgie cried," he adds, "but don't tell her I told you."
"You were there? Tonight?" Will asks. His grin is threatening to split his face in two.
"We all were," Ben says happily. "Well done, mate."
"You all were?" Will echoes.
"Me, Skan, Georgie, Anna," Ben confirms. "Will P. would've come but he wanted to give us some time just the four of us. Andrew says he's got a ticket for next Wednesday."
"You didn't say anything!"
"Well, you didn't invite us," Ben chuckles. "So we had to take matters into our own hands. We were going to wait for you by the stage door but we had a Pizza Express reservation."
"Can't miss Pizza Express," Will laughs. "Listen -- Ben -- do you think you could put Skandar on?"
Ben makes a sort of low, whistling sound. "Oh, I would, mate," he says, "but he just left. Literally, just before I rang you. He said he had to get home."
Will's face falls. "Oh."
"We'll have to all meet up some time, though, all five of us. Will P. can come too if someone's willing to spend about an hour beforehand assuring him he's not intruding," Ben carries on cheerily. "We'll do it before the premiere, yeah? I mean, that's months away, so of course we'll all see each other before then."
They don't.
It's not like they don't try, but it seems like there's not a single date between then and April that each and every one of them is free. First of all, it's the holiday season, and after that, it's difficult for Skandar, Will P. and Georgie because they've all got school. Anna's got university, and Ben's got about thirty auditions, and Will still gets nothing when he rings Skandar. He feels like suddenly he's the only one with any time to himself, and over the next month or so, he fills it by watching every single episode of Scrubs ever made, and waiting for the phone to ring. He finds himself wondering whether it should really be this hard.
One night in February, alone again, sitting in front of the TV, he wonders whether they've all just stopped caring, and that thought scares him more than anything else in the world.
Will, Anna and Andrew have separate arrangements for getting to the premiere, different ones to the others. Will supposes he should have expected that, seeing as he and Anna aren't actually in this movie, and Andrew only had a small part in the production. But it's still strange, to travel to New York on a separate flight, on a different day, and to stay in a different hotel.
As he slowly puts on his suit in his hotel room, he feels just as much of an attachment to the movie as he did when he went to, say, the Pirates of the Caribbean premiere a few years back -- it means nothing, they're just guests now.
His feelings change a bit on the red carpet, as he walks down beside Anna, kids all around them, screaming their names. The pictures held out for him to sign depict a version of him that is more than two years old, and he's struck with a strange sense of detachment as he reads the name Peter Pevensie on some of the out-of-date promotional photos.
"Well, this is different," Anna murmurs in his ear as they head inside, but she's smiling, taking all of this in her stride.
The stars of the film arrive much later. Will had expected their paths to cross on the red carpet, he thought that Skandar would spot him from a distance while talking to the press, and thought maybe he'd be unable to hold back, realising just how much he'd missed him. He thought they'd make up right there and then, both apologising, both agreeing to leave it all behind them.
But he's starting to learn that things just don't work like that, and he only sees Skandar when he's standing in front of the screen with Ben and Georgie and Will P., introducing the film. Skandar's wearing a suit, and, at eighteen years old, he no longer looks awkward in one. He's charming and confident as he thanks the still-screaming fans.
Will just stares, motionless in his cinema seat, waiting for the credits that won't show his name.
"I've never had an out of body experience," says Anna, slightly randomly, as they hang around at the after-party, sipping wine in a corner.
"Me...neither?" says Will cluelessly. He looks around the room. He knows they're early, but he can't help but worry that somehow he's going to miss out on seeing Skandar altogether. And if they can't even manage to see each other here, will they ever see each other again?
Anna laughs, warmly. "No, I mean, I've never had one, but I imagine they're kind of like this," she explains.
She's finding this strange too, Will knows, and that's a relief in a way, to know that someone's going through the same thing as he is. But she seems to find it amusing, she's still having fun. Because she's got the faith that this will all sort itself out in the end.
Suddenly, she's leaping up and waving her arms in the air. "Hey, over here!" she yells, ignoring the people sitting near them that she's alarming.
Will looks over to where she's waving, and sees them -- Michael leading, Ben fidgeting with something and showing it to a bemused Will P., Georgie animatedly explaining something to Skandar. Will gets to his feet too, brushing himself down, anxiously watching the approaching group. He notices their easy comfort and something inside him aches as he watches them interact. He finds himself wondering if they've all been seeing each other regularly since Dawn Treader wrapped, if it's only him that's been left out. After all, Anna's seen them more recently than he has.
But then they're spotted, and Ben is cheering and Skandar's grinning, and Will P. and Michael are waving shyly. The next few moments are a blur -- Georgie speeds across the floor, almost headbutting him in the chest with the force of her hug, and Skandar wraps his arms around Anna and spins her around in circles. When Georgie releases her death-grip around Will's waist, he's getting a handshake from Michael, and then a handshake that turns into an awkward hug from Will P., as Ben kisses Anna on both cheeks, loudly. All Will can hear is jumbled cries of "I missed you so much!" and "It's been so long!" as Ben moves on to hug him tightly, clapping him on the back as always.
Everybody's talking all at once as soon as the crowd separates again, and Will meets Skandar's eyes for a split second, stepping forward, but then Andrew comes bounding up to the group and it's hugs and kisses all around all over again. The words blur around him as everybody naturally begins their own conversations. Anna's taking a small plastic boat from Ben's hands, and he's explaining that a fan gave it to him and he thinks maybe it's meant to be the Dawn Treader despite it looking more like the Titanic. Georgie and Will P. are talking a mile a minute (even though they've been together all evening) and Skandar is reaching for a glass of wine from a nearby table. Will's seen him drinking before, of course (there've been at least two occasions when he's had to practically carry an utterly plastered Skandar back home) but never legally, never so casually and openly, at one of these events.
Their eyes meet again and Will hears himself saying, "Happy ridiculously late birthday."
Skandar frowns, leaning forwards. "What?"
"Happy ridiculously late birthday," Will repeats, feeling his cheeks flush.
"Oh," says Skandar, and laughs. "Thanks. And, well done, for the play and everything."
Will nods. "Well done for the movie!" he says, shifting from one foot to the other, anxiously.
"I suppose it's the thought that counts," Anna's saying, inspecting the toy boat, as Ben laughs.
"Go on, tell them," Will P. is muttering to Georgie, his quiet, sweet voice tinged with an unusual sort of urgency that Will would pay more attention to if he wasn't too busy trying to work out what the hell his next step should be.
"I tried to ring you, you know," he says in the end. "I couldn't get through."
"What?" Skandar asks, taking a large gulp of wine. "Oh, I got a new phone. For my birthday. It's got a new number, I meant to send out a message telling everybody..."
"Oh, right," says Will, feeling stupid.
"You could've emailed or something, you know," Skandar reminds him, making him feel even more stupid.
It's not fair for Skandar to act like this, seeing as he didn't even attempt contact all this time. That's something he hasn't really paid much attention to, but now it's obvious, and painful.
"I was going to," Will replies, wishing they were talking about this in private, "but I thought--"
"Georgie has something to say," Will P. says timidly, and even though he's speaking quietly, somehow he gets everybody's attention. Quite impressive, for this group, Will thinks.
Will's still looking at Skandar, but Skandar's lost interest in their conversation already, and is grinning at Will P. and nudging Ben with his elbow.
Georgie rolls her eyes. "Okay," she sighs, "I didn't want to make a big deal about it or anything, but somebody has turned it into an announcement..." she shoots Will P. a pointed look but he just grins, "...Will and I are kinda...going out."
Despite his own relationship troubles (if what he has with Skandar can even be called a relationship anymore), Will finds himself overjoyed by this news. He remembers Georgie's confession last year, and he remembers all the times he saw the two of them talking, and he looks at them now and grins. Anna claps her hands and pulls a blushing and protesting Georgie into a hug, and then Andrew laughs and says something along the lines of "They grow up so fast!", which causes Georgie thump him half-heartedly.
"Congratulations," Will grins, and Georgie rolls her eyes again.
"We're not getting married," she says, running a hand back through her hair, flustered. "I just wanted everyone to know."
It takes more than an hour for Will and Skandar to get any time alone. They're all just sitting around, catching up, but Skandar's avoiding looking him in the eye, while everybody else (tactfully, obviously at least somewhat aware of the circumstances) acts like everything's perfectly okay.
As Will sits there, listening to the chatter around him, he starts to wonder if this thing with Skandar is beyond repair. If this is it. Perhaps not making enough of an effort in the beginning has caused them to drift apart for good. At functions, they'll see each other and they'll be able to be civil, but that's it.
There'll be no more sleepovers, whether at Skandar's (Will slipping out of the sleeping bag on the floor to squeeze into Skandar's single bed with him, and later muffling their moans against hands and pillows), or at Will's (pizza and beer, staying up late playing Xbox and then having sex all night, sleeping in until the afternoon). There'll be no more disasterous attempts at romance -- no more fancy homecooked meals to be ruined and replaced with beans on toast, no more candles all over the bedroom to set Skandar's duvet on fire. No more teasing each other about bad haircuts, no more bickering over who gets to do things first, not even anymore full-on arguments, the ones that last weeks and have to be patched up by Anna. No more kissing and making up.
Not even any more friendship.
He looks around, sees Georgie stealing Anna's bracelet and sliding it onto her own wrist, sees Ben acting out an epic shipwreck of the Dawn Treader/Titanic in a sea of blue napkins, sees Skandar and Will P. cracking up as they watch. He wonders how they can act like this is all okay, like they've still got something secure that they know they can hold onto, when Will feels like he's managed to lose it all in less than a year.
When Andrew produces old, fingerprint-smudged photographs taken on the set of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, Will feels his eyes beginning to well up and he excuses himself, pushing through the crowds of people and trying to find the bathroom. He only saw one picture -- the four of them, huddled together in their fur coats on set, all pink cheeks and cheesy grins. He's never going to get those days back. He knew it all along but somehow it really hits him now, and he finds an empty corridor and just shuts down, hands pressed over his face, his head throbbing.
He's been there for less than a minute when he hears a familiar voice say, "D'you need some air?"
They wander, outside in the warm darkness, aimless and silent. They're about a block away from the venue when Skandar says it.
"I didn't realise how much I'd missed you til I saw you again."
Will doesn't say anything. It's too late for this now, there's no point. Even if they make up now, it'll all be false, just doing it because they feel like they have to, just to clear the air.
"It's all my fault," Skandar goes on. He kicks violently at a stone on the pavement. "It's -- fuck. At least you tried to get in touch. Dad said you rang every night for like a week, back in October or something, and I never rang back. Not even once. I was still mad at you until I saw you in that play. And then I really missed you, and I wanted to talk to you, but I thought you'd be mad at me, so I never rang, and -- Will, just say something, please?"
Will sort of laughs, hollowly. "What's the point, Skan?" he says. "Neither of us made much of an effort so that must mean neither of us really care."
"But I care," Skandar insists. "I didn't realise how much I cared. I thought we were just drifting apart and Ben said that's what happens with this kind of thing and I thought maybe it was better just to let it happen instead of sort of desperately clinging to it and fucking things up."
"Well, maybe you were right the first time," Will says bitterly. He stops walking. He turns to Skandar and tries to look him in the eye, but he can't. "Maybe we should just leave it."
"Do you want to?" Skandar asks.
His voice is nothing like Will's ever heard it, it's sort of hollow and empty and broken, like he's stripped bare and exhausted, and just opening up, regardless of the consquences. And that, Will realises, that is what being an adult is about. That is something Skandar's never been, never done -- he's always avoided this sort of confrontation, this sort of serious 'what's happening?' talk, and always fought back at all the problems with insults and sulking. Both of them have always left somebody else to pick up the pieces, waited for somebody else to give them a push in the right direction, and this time, it's all up to them, nobody else. And Skandar's eighteen and he's grown up and he's wanting to sort this out -- whether they break up or make up, he wants something other than the long, stretching silence they've had for so long now.
"No," says Will, eventually, and his voice sounds like Skandar's, hurt and weak. He's so close to tears that he's having to blink them back and he feels absolutely pathetic. "No, I don't want that, you know I don't want that, but--"
"Then please don't let that happen," Skandar interrupts, sounding calmer this time, more in control. Matter-of-fact and sensible, like Anna telling him to 'just talk to him' like it was so easy.
"It's already happening," Will says, shaking his head, and he looks down at the pavement, squeezing his eyes shut.
Skandar's grabbing him before he has a chance to process what's happening, grabbing him by the shoulders and tilting his head up and kissing him with a rough, wet slide of his lips, urgent and needy and forceful, one hand sliding up his neck to clutch a handful of his hair and bring him closer, as close as he can possibly be. Will sighs, almost whimpers, mouth falling open with ease, their tongues touching, pushing, tasting. All at once it feels like it's been forever, and like it's been no time at all, and Will doesn't care that they're in public, in the middle of a fucking pavement on the night the movie's premiered, because this is what's been missing. This, or rather the lack of this, is the cause of that indistinct, aching empty feeling he's had for so long now, that hole in his life (in his heart) that no amount of plays or episodes of Scrubs or guys called Adam could fill.
When they eventually part, Will's panting, honest to god panting like he hasn't properly breathed in months, and Skandar's eyes are dark and pleading as he says, "Then let's make it stop."
"I know this is so, so, stupidly overdue," says Will, a little while later, as the two of them lie on Skandar's hotel bed, facing each other, limbs entangled. "But I want to apologise for the way I freaked out in Mexico. I just...wasn't ready to see everything change the way it had."
Skandar nods, listening, letting Will talk as he traces lazy patterns on Will's arm with his fingertip.
"I think I was just so busy trying to convince myself that I was ready, and that it was all fine and that I didn't care," Will goes on. "Saying I was done with it and I was ready to move on. I think I was just too scared to admit how much of a big deal it really was to me."
"I know," says Skandar sympathetically. "I think I worked that out before you did," he jokes.
"Oh, well, thanks for enlightening me," Will teases. God, he's missed this.
"I guess I owe you an apology too," Skandar says. "I shouldn't have tried to rush things. It was just hard to imagine how it was for you to see it all for the first time when I'd already gotten used to it. And I didn't expect it to affect...you know, us."
Will nods, and there's a pause, a quiet stillness, as Skandar looks into his eyes.
"You're used to it now, though?" Skandar asks carefully.
"Yeah," says Will. He thinks about the three films, the three experiences, and the differences between them, and he thinks about the uncertainty in what lies ahead. "Yeah," he says again, smiling sadly. "I guess I'm starting to realise that everything comes to an end."
"No," says Skandar softly. He leans in, presses his lips to Will's, warm and sure. "Not this."
And Will doesn't speak, doesn't smile, doesn't agree or disagree. He doesn't want to talk about what comes next or what anything means, or what they'll need to do to make this work. All he wants to do is lie here with Skandar, and kiss him, harder, as the New York roads outside the hotel window still hum with lights and noise, and the celebrations still continue down the street. He wants them to make love, as the others back at the party reminisce about when they all used to work together. He wants to curl up with Skandar and sleep, as everybody else is making toasts to the past (Anna chuckling to herself as she flicks through the old photos), and to change (Michael and Will P., still smiling shyly, sharing their first Narnia premiere experience), and to new beginnings (Will P. and Georgie, sneaking champagne together later, giggling and kissing in a corner). And tomorrow, he wants to wake up with Skandar's arms around him, and go out with everybody for breakfast, and make amends.
Because these films, and these people, have been a huge part of his life for so many years, and he's not going to let them leave it.
No matter how hard it gets.
End.