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noelleleitheficTitle: Starstruck
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
noelleleithe
Rating/Warnings: NC-17, RPF, AU
Summary: Jake pinned him with a look so raw and needy that Van nearly fell out of his seat
Other notes in Master Post
~~~~
Van slammed his way into the studio Monday morning, running late for the second time in two weeks. He still wasn't used to having to get up at five AM, and he really had to stop staying up too late, especially on Sunday nights. Soap actors were never irreplaceable, and he'd only been working a few months. The last thing he needed was to lose his very first real job because of something so stupid as oversleeping.
Practically running down the hall toward makeup, he didn't see the tall form that stepped in front of him until it was too late. He tried to swerve but tripped instead, crashing into the other man and wiping them both out into the wall. It wouldn't have been so bad, if the guy hadn't been holding a venti cup in each hand.
Hot coffee spattered them both. "Shit!" Van jumped away and shook off as much of the burning liquid as he could manage. "What the fuck, man? Watch where you're going!" Yeah, sure, it might be partly his fault, but he wasn't the one wandering around the studio with giant cups of Starbucks' finest.
"Oh my God, I am so sorry." The guy fell all over himself to apologize, almost literally, scrambling to get settled back on his feet and reaching out a hand toward Van. "Are you okay?"
"Well, yeah, other than the third-degree burns." Van glared. "You must be one of the new interns. Word of advice, never get in the way of the actors or crew. Especially not first thing on Monday morning."
He looked down at his soaked t-shirt and sighed. At least it wasn't one of his favorites. Grabbing the cloth at the back of his neck, he yanked it up over his head. A weird sound from the intern made him shoot another glare, meeting wide crystal blue.
"Better get busy," he said, lip curling. "Gotta fetch new coffee now."
He turned on his heel and stalked down the hall, muttering under his breath about incompetence and idiocy.
He hated Mondays.
~~~~
He'd been scheduled to film four days in a row that week, a record. The storyline was picking up, just a few weeks away from the biggest scenes, where Luke would finally come out to his family. It was equal parts exciting and nerve-wracking. At 24, Van felt a little weird playing a 16-year-old, but he knew he looked young for his age, and he certainly understood the importance of the role. He took it seriously, and that meant he took it hard when he didn't feel he was doing it justice.
Monday's filming went okay. Acceptable to the higher ups, at least. Not to Van. He had trouble sleeping that night, going over his performance in his head, trying to figure out where he could improve things the next day, make it work better. He finally slept, fitfully, despite knowing not getting enough rest would do nothing but make things harder.
He woke almost too late again, but at least this time he didn't have to dash down the hallway when he got to the studio. He made it halfway to makeup when he saw a familiar form leaning against the wall a few feet ahead of him, holding another venti cup. He lifted it as Van walked by.
"Coffee?" he asked. Van screeched to a halt, looked back over his shoulder. The guy just kept holding the cup, a tentative smile on his face.
Van shrugged. "Sure," he said, reaching to take the cup. "Um, thanks?"
He turned and walked away. He had no idea what that was about, unless it was the guy's way of apologizing for half scalding him the day before. He got free caffeine out of the deal, so he guessed it didn't matter either way.
~~~~
The intern started showing up in Van's path more often. Usually first thing in the morning, with coffee, although once with a pastry, too. (Van only fleeting wondered if he knew his favorite or just got lucky.) Van shrugged it off and figured someone was sending the new guy out for all of them.
A week and a half later, he nearly ran into Billy the same way he'd run into the intern. Billy, who had taken Van's place as the new guy on set just a few weeks earlier, had a laugh as big as the studio and broke it out at the drop of a suggestion. It echoed down the hallway, and out of the corner of his eye, Van saw a dark head turn their way.
Billy's gaze followed Van's. "Oh, I see your new best friend's waiting," he said in a low, teasing voice. "See if you can weasel him into bringing me coffee next time too, okay?"
Van blinked. "Wait. He's not bringing coffee for everyone?"
Billy winked, grinned full with dimples. "Nope," he said. "Just for you, golden boy."
Van rolled his eyes. "Great," he muttered. "Now they're hiring through the fan club? Don't we get enough of that already without having them in the studio?"
Billy shrugged. "Hey, take the compliment and the coffee," he said. "Or I'll take it off your hands."
"Have at it." Van stalked down the hallway, shooting a glare at the intern as he passed. He almost faltered when he saw the other man's face fall. But dammit, he was there to work, not to sign autographs. The boy could just get the hell over it and do his job.
By lunchtime, Van felt the shortage of caffeine. When Michael said someone was running out for Starbucks, he leapt at the chance. Fanboy was far from his mind, until he turned out to be the one bringing back the coffee.
Van forced a smile. "Thanks." He turned away, striking up a conversation with Jon about his daughter's latest milestones. He ignored the gaze he could feel on his back, until finally he heard the intern walk away.
~~~~
It took a couple of days for Van to realize he'd grown a new shadow. The intern--Van never had bothered to find out his name--kept turning up wherever Van went in the studio. He fetched coffee and lunches, delivered mail, ran props from one set to another. He didn't speak directly to Van unless necessary, although he seemed to have no trouble talking to anyone else.
When he delivered lunchtime Starbucks for the third time that week, Van overheard Jon thank him by name.
Jake.
After two more weeks, it had gotten to the point that Van tensed up whenever he saw Jake, whether he was nearby or not--although he usually was. He'd stand on the sidelines and watch Van film his scenes, eyes bright and wide. He still brought coffee, too, although after Van passed up that unsolicited morning cup, he never got it again unless he'd put in an order with everyone else.
Once, when Van left his prop laptop on the wrong set, Jake was the one who came running with it. Van flashed a quick smile but couldn't quite get the apology out.
He knew it shouldn't have bothered him so much. The guy was an intern, and interns on a television set were likely to be fans of some stripe. Van should take it as a compliment, that Jake so clearly seemed to like his work.
Instead, it made his skin crawl.
~~~~
He made it almost a month before he blew up. They were filming the toughest scenes he'd ever done that week, with Luke dealing with his cousin Jade's histrionics while trying to figure out how to come out to his parents. Van knew a lot of the pressure he felt came from himself, especially since his acting partners were all so great. Elena in particular was one of his closest friends, more like a soulmate than anything else.
None of that made it any easier for him to keep his cool when Jake showed up in his path yet again, third time in as many days, grinning and holding out the hoodie Van needed for his next scene. The one Van had been about to grab for himself.
Van ripped it out of his hands and glowered at him. "What is your problem?" he barked. "Why are you following me around all the time? Got a hard-on for the gay guy? 'Cause you know Luke's a fictional character, right? You do know what fiction means?"
Van's own sexuality was beside the point. Only a few people on set knew he was gay, and that didn't have anything to do with this anyway.
Jake's face fell for a second and then screwed up into a mask of anger and hatred. "Man, you sure are full of your own importance, aren't you?" he spat out. "I'm just trying to do my fucking job and be a nice guy and you can't even manage to be professional, much less friendly. I'll be sure to stay out of your high-and-mighty way from now on, Mister Hansis."
He turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving Van stunned in his path. He should have been satisfied. He'd gotten the guy off his back, that was for sure.
Then why did he feel like the biggest jerk in all of Brooklyn right now?
~~~~
Jake turned out to be as good as his word. Van didn't see him at all for a week, long enough that he actually wondered if he'd quit. Or maybe got fired, and that thought actually made Van feel bad enough that he had to ask, even though he didn't think anyone else had overheard their heated exchange.
"Hey, Billy." Billy stopped in the hallway outside Van's dressing room door and flashed the dimples. "That guy, Jake? The intern? He didn't get fired or anything, did he?"
The dimples disappeared into a frown. "No, I saw him this morning talking to Chris," Billy said. "Why, did something happen?"
Van shrugged, hiding his relief. "No, just wondered," he said. "He was everywhere and then just seemed to disappear."
"I can ask what's up if you--"
"No, no." Van cut off that train of thought immediately. "Not a big deal. Thanks, man. Hey, you going to Elena's St. Patty's party this weekend?" Van was thankful for a reason to change the subject.
Billy's trademark grin was back. "Oh yeah, wouldn't miss it," he said. "Any excuse to drink Irish whiskey and green beer is a-ok in my book!"
Van laughed and nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. Like wondering if Jake might have gotten an invitation, too.
~~~~
Jake had.
Halfway through his second Jameson on the rocks, Van bumped into someone as he walked across the room and turned, an apology on his lips. It died unspoken when his eyes met piercing, cold blue under dark curls. Jake's upper lip curled mockingly and he gave a curt nod before walking away.
Van's breath shuddered out of him in a rush, and an anvil landed in his stomach. He felt like pure, unfiltered shit. Jake had really done nothing at all to justify the way Van had treated him. Sure, Van knew he could be snarky to the point of bitchiness sometimes, but he usually only let that side of him show to his friends, people who knew him and knew it was nothing serious.
Jake had never been given that chance. Van had spewed crap all over him literally from day one, and it's a wonder he hadn't called him on it sooner. In his place, Van never would've lasted that long.
Van set down his glass on a side table and headed in the direction Jake had gone. Elena's apartment had a small balcony--overlooking a brick wall; after all, it was New York--and as Van got closer he could see a tall, slim, dark-haired form standing out there, head down, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat. The night was chilly even for a week short of spring, but Van took the chance and stepped out without looking for his own jacket.
Jake half-turned at the sound of the door closing behind Van. He rolled his eyes and swiveled back around.
"Get lost on your way to your throne room?"
Van bit back a retort. Crossing his arms tightly across his chest, half against the cold and half as self-protection, he took a step closer. "Look, Jake," he said. "I owe you an apology. I've been an ass and a half, and you didn't deserve any of that."
Jake shrugged one shoulder but didn't otherwise move. "Whatever."
Van sighed then. "Hey, I'm trying to say I'm sorry here, okay? It looks like we're probably going to be working together for a while, and you seem like a nice guy, and so am I, really."
Jake did move then, sending him a skeptical look. Van half-smiled. "No, really. I know we got off on the wrong foot, and okay, yeah, I've been known to hold a grudge a time or two, even when it wasn't deserved."
He stopped talking and sighed again. "Anyway. Can we maybe try again?" He unwrapped his arms and stood straight, holding out a hand. "Hi, I'm Van Hansis," he said. "It's nice to meet you."
Jake turned his head slowly, turned his body even more slowly. Stared at Van for a long moment, then his hand. Van was about two seconds away from giving up and writing it off as a bad job when Jake finally pulled his hand out of his pocket and reached for Van's, even throwing in a small smile.
"Jake Silbermann," he said. "It's nice to meet you, Van."
Long, slim fingers wrapped around Van's, and Van sucked in a breath at the contact. He shivered, and Jake suddenly looked concerned. "Hey, where's your jacket?" he said. "It's pretty cold out here with the wind between the buildings."
Van drew back his hand carefully and forced a smile. "I'm fine," he said. "But yeah, I think I'm heading back inside." He wrapped his arms across his chest again and tilted his head toward the door. "You coming? I think I owe you a drink."
Jake grinned then, straight white teeth and sharp canines on full display, and Van's heart tripped over itself. Damn. He's really pretty damn gorgeous, Van thought, immediately followed by, Oh shit. This could be very, very bad.
Or very, very good, a devilish part of his brain echoed back.
~~~~
Things were easier after that. Jake did actually turn out to be a nice guy. He was a couple of years younger than Van, so he fit in well with the rest of the young crowd around the studio, even though he was an intern instead of part of the cast. Over a few group lunches, Van learned that Jake had finished his coursework at Syracuse in the fall toward a degree in theater and was doing the internship to get the final credits he needed, along with a little industry experience. He was a Manhattan native living with his parents, but once the internship ended in May, he planned to move out and hit the audition circuit.
"Think I probably want to do behind the scenes eventually," he said to Billy in answer to his questions. "But I like acting more than I thought I would when I started. I know it's tough out there, but I'm gonna give it a shot."
Van started catching himself staring when Jake was nearby. Not that he thought anyone would blame him, considering the guy's looks, but especially after the way they'd started things off, the last thing he needed was to develop a crush at work. Plus, most of the cast and crew still didn't know he was gay, and that would definitely not be the way to come out. Coming out on camera, in character, had been hard enough. He'd rarely felt the sense of relief he did when they'd finished filming those scenes. After all his worry, he thought he nailed them, and cast and crew seemed to agree. Martha hugged him tight, smiling, and Jon shook his hand.
"You were really great today, Van," he said. "You're always great, but this was just ... they picked the perfect guy for this job."
Van barely stopped smiling for days after that.
~~~~
The weeks started flying by, now that the meat of the coming out story, and accompanying media scrutiny, were behind him. Van still had a lot of filming and some major storylines coming up, but he felt like he'd crested the mountain and survived onto the downhill slope. He hoped it'd be easier going from now on.
Not everything was, of course. The second week in April, Van found himself running late again. His brother had been visiting, and they'd stayed out until nearly two AM. Even with a late call, Van had to hustle to get to makeup on time.
Barreling down the same hallway where he'd smashed into Jake two months earlier, Van had just enough time for his eyes to widen when someone stepped out in front of him. They collided, spinning into the wall, Van's head hitting the painted cinderblock hard enough to make his eyes water. The other person fell hard against him, pinning him down.
Van's eyes opened and he stared into Jake's shocked blue eyes.
He stopped breathing.
Jake's body was hard against him, hands trapped between Van's back and the wall, one leg shoved between Van's. His mouth hung open in surprise, and it took every ounce of self control in Van's being not to lunge forward and stick his tongue into that opening.
Holy shit.
Van peeled his hands away from where they'd landed on Jake's back, pulled his hips back toward the wall, trying to get his skin away from Jake's so he wouldn't do anything either of them would regret. Jake seemed to shake out of his stupor and started pushing away, too.
"Sorry, sorry," he said as he worked on untangling them and righting himself. "I didn't see anyone coming, and Michael's holster got left in the police station set by accident and he needed it for his next scene, and--"
Van cut him off with the best grin he could manage. "It's okay, Jake," he said, trying to ignore the raspiness in his own voice. "At least there was no coffee involved this time."
Jake looked stricken for a moment, almost flinching, and Van's heart nearly stopped again. "Hey, seriously, it's okay," he repeated. "I shouldn't have been running like that." He lifted a hand toward Jake's shoulder but then jerked it back as if he were burned. "Um, I gotta go, though. Late for makeup."
He turned and headed on down the hall, head throbbing, but moving only a little slower than before. He could feel Jake's eyes on him the entire way.
~~~~
That night was the first time he jerked off to thoughts of Jake.
It wouldn't be the last.
~~~~
Jake noticed the difference in Van over the next few days, Van could tell. It got kind of obvious when Van switched paths to keep his distance, begged off on the lunchtime Starbucks run. Jake shot him more than one curious look, but Van just acted as if he didn't see, striking up a random conversation with whomever else was nearby or feigning a need for a bathroom run to justify staying well clear of Jake.
When he turned down Friday's movie night with the crowd, claiming a headache, Billy called him on it.
"A headache, Hansis?" he scoffed, only half kidding. "Look, if you don't want to be around us tonight, that's fine, but don't start making up half-assed excuses. No one's buying it."
Van sighed and glanced around, making sure no one else could overhear. "Look, it's a long story that I don't want to get into right now, but I'm just having a crappy week, okay? I'll try to be back to my normal assholish self after the weekend."
He grinned, forced though it felt, and Billy finally grinned back.
"Okay, but I'm holding you to that," he said, pointing a finger. "My birthday's next week, and the party's next Saturday night. No headache's gonna get you out of shooters and karaoke."
Van groaned. "Fuck, Billy," he said. "Shooters I can handle, but Jesus Christ, hell to the no on karaoke."
Billy laughed and slapped his shoulder. "You been watching bad reality TV again?" He grinned wider. "No wimping out, dude! It's a requirement."
Now Van really did have a headache.
~~~~
Van didn't sleep well over the weekend, which certainly didn't help his mood when Monday rolled around. He faked it the best he could, thankful that he only had three days in the studio that week. He laughed and mouthed along to "Happy Birthday" when they had Billy's birthday celebration at work on his actual birthday, late in the week, and after taking two Benadryl Friday night, he actually woke up late Saturday morning feeling pretty much back to normal.
They'd planned to meet at a pizza restaurant for dinner before hitting the club Billy had picked out for his first legal night of boozing. The dinner crowd was about half people from work and half Billy's musician friends, with a few extra people from various places added in. Van shifted around until he managed to claim a seat between Elena and a friend of Billy's he'd never met before.
Elena leaned over almost immediately to whisper in his ear. "You okay?"
Van nodded and shrugged. "Fine," he said. "Why, don't I seem fine?"
"Not really." Elena studied his face, but Van couldn't quite meet her eyes. "Something's up with you. And intuition is telling me that it's probably some guy."
Van's eyes widened. "Elena!" he hissed. "C'mon, you know I don't talk about that stuff around work people."
Elena smirked. "And that reaction right there tells me I just hit the nail on the head." She picked up her beer mug and brought it to her mouth, whispering around the edge. "Is he here?"
Van couldn't help himself. His gaze flicked over to land on Jake for just a second. Jake sat near the far end of the table, talking to Billy's drummer and a girl Van thought might be Billy's last ex-girlfriend, the first one he'd actually stayed friends with. Van realized his mistake a half-second too late, as he heard Elena's intake of breath.
"Jake?" Her mouth was barely an inch from his ear, so no one else would hear. "Seriously? Is he even gay?"
"Stop it, Elena." Van pushed her away half-heartedly. "I don't know and I don't care. It's just a silly crush that'll go away," like they always do, he thought but didn't say. "Okay?"
"Mmm-hmmm." She didn't sound convinced. "And the fact that you work together?"
"Is all the more reason to ignore it," Van finished. He took a big swig of beer, then another. "Look, I know you mean well, Elena, and you know I love you for it. But I'm fine, really. I'll be back to normal in no time." He forced a laugh. "Well, as normal as I get, anyway."
Elena wasn't buying it for a second, but she just looked at him again for a long moment and finally shrugged. "Okay," she said. "Whatever you say."
Van sighed. He knew that wouldn't be all of it, but at least she'd back off for now.
~~~~
The bar Billy picked for after dinner was small, cramped, smoky, and dark, but it had cheap beer and shooters and all the karaoke anyone could want. Van wanted none, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to keep from having anything to do with that part of the evening.
Their crowd thinned out a bit after dinner, several of the attendees being underage, but they still had a solid dozen, crowding into tables between the bar and the tiny stage in the corner. Billy ordered a round of pitchers and shots, taking his first shot and chugging half a mug before heading for the stage and calling up, of all things, "Once Bitten Twice Shy." Van rolled his eyes and reached for his beer.
"Hey."
Van nearly choked as he realized the soft greeting had come from Jake, who'd slid into the seat next to Van. Van swallowed and smiled.
"Hey," he answered. Thinking fast, he nodded at Billy, who was working the stage like the semi-pro that he was. "You next up?"
Jake laughed lowly and picked up his own beer. "Not before I get a few more of these into me," he said, taking a substantial drink.
Van laughed at that. "I'm planning to sneak out the back door before anyone realizes I never got up there," he said. "I'll do a lot of things, but karaoke isn't on the list."
"What is?"
Van looked at Jake, puzzled. "What is, what?"
"On the list," Jake replied. "You said you'll do a lot of things. What do you do? Other than act and drink."
He grinned, and Van tried not to stare at his mouth or the crinkles around those beautiful eyes. Van sipped his beer to soothe his suddenly dry throat. "Lots of things," he answered. "Movies, concerts, restaurants. Museums sometimes. Comic books."
"Comic books? Seriously?" Jake smiled wider, which Van didn't think possible, and his eyes brightened. "I love comic books. I have boxes and boxes that my mom keeps telling me I should get rid of because I'm too old for them."
Van had to laugh at that. "Sounds familiar," he said. "My mom doesn't buy the old 'but they're collectors' items!' argument any more. But at least they aren't in her house now, so she doesn't really have a say about it."
Jake set down his beer and leaned forward, arms folded on the table. "How often do you get back to Massachusetts to visit?"
Van froze, beer mug halfway to his mouth. "Um," he said. "How did ...?"
Jake flushed and covered his face with one hand. "Oh man," he said. "Sorry. I just." He peeked out between his fingers. "I might've read an interview or two. Here and there."
Van lifted an eyebrow, caught between embarrassment and interest. "Have you been reading the fan rags, Jake?"
Jake shrugged one shoulder, dropping his hand from his face to run fingers through a circle of condensation on the tabletop. "Maybe one or two." He glanced up from under his lashes. "I found out I got the internship last fall, so I started watching the show as much as I could. And, well, when you started, I was, um, really impressed. You're a really great actor, Van."
Van flushed, embarrassment winning out. He knew it was part of being an actor, which he loved, but he really wasn't comfortable with the whole "having fans" thing, even though this wasn't quite the same. His gaze dropped to his hand where it was wrapped around the handle of his nearly empty mug. "Thanks," he whispered. "Always nice to hear from a fan."
Jake shifted in his seat, and when Van looked up, Jake's face was much closer. Van sucked in a breath as their eyes met, and he watched as the clear blue drained from Jake's, overtaken by deep navy and the black of pupils.
"Next up!" Billy slapped Jake on the shoulder, almost knocking his head into Van's. Van sat back quickly, lifting his beer and finishing it off in one swallow. He looked everywhere except at Jake, who'd slid his chair an extra foot or so away, his cheeks pink as he argued with Billy over whose turn should be next. One of Billy's other friends finally caved and headed for the stage, and Van took advantage of the arriving round of fresh shooters, letting the liquid heat burn away the rough edge of his arousal.
He really should get out of there. Go home, jump into the shower, and let his right hand take care of things, like it had been doing for the past couple of weeks. Instead, he reached for another beer and drank deeply, soothing his throat. Watched Jake out of the corner of his eye. Pretended not to notice when he saw Jake watching back.
~~~~
Jake got up to hit the restroom a couple of songs (and rounds) later, and Van wasn't surprised at all when Elena slid into his abandoned seat. "Well?"
Van scowled at her. "Well, what?" He tossed back another shot and reached for his fresh mug of beer.
"Well, what were you and Jake pow-wowing about over here?" Her eyes flashed.
"Just small talk," Van murmured. "Nothing major."
Elena rolled her eyes. "Liar," she stated. "You should know by now that kind of deflection doesn't work with me."
Van sighed. "He's a ... a fan, I guess," he admitted. "He said he started watching the show late last year and liked my acting. And he's read some interviews. It just ... t's weird." He shook his head. "You know I've never liked the whole fan thing much. It all feels so fake."
Elena sighed, sliding her chair closer as the music started up for Billy's second round on stage. "It's not really like that, though," she said. "He works with us. You knew him already before you knew any of that. You liked him already. That shouldn't change anything."
Van shrugged one shoulder, running a finger around the edge of his beer glass. "I guess," he said. "It's just ... I don't know what it is. I don't know anything any more." He sighed. "Can we just ... not talk about this here? Please?"
Elena studied him for a moment and then nodded, picking up her beer and turning her attention to Billy. Van followed suit, resolving not to think about any of it that night.
~~~~
It was well past midnight when Jake finally got sloshed enough to take to the stage, and even then it took some serious cajoling on Billy's behalf. Van recognized the song a few notes in and should have left right that second. He didn't, even though he knew he'd be digging his own grave by staying.
Watching Jake sing and laugh and (sort of) dance to "I Want You to Want Me" ranked in the top three of the sexiest things Van had ever seen in his life. Jake's shirt, already damp with sweat from the heat of the crowded bar, clung to his body in the best ways as he moved, tight jeans hanging low on his hips. Van tried not to stare at his crotch, but while he was far from trashed, he'd had enough to drink that his inhibitions were on the low end. Way, way on the low end. Jake dressed right, Van quickly learned, and either he had a massive dick or he was getting pretty damn turned on--or possibly both, because that was some bulge next to his zipper.
Van drained another beer in the time it took Jake to finish his performance. His own jeans were fucking uncomfortable by then, and he really needed to get out of there before he did something they'd all regret. Like slam Jake down right there on the table in front of everyone and try to remove his tonsils using only his tongue.
Jake returned to a hero's welcome, gladhanding all around, everyone teasing and laughing as he flushed brighter pink and grinned. Van steeled himself as Jake approached his end of the table, but nothing could have prepared him for meeting Jake's eyes. Jake pinned him with a look so raw and needy that Van nearly fell out of his seat, but before Van could react, Jake stepped around his chair, leaned in close to his ear, and whispered, "I'm begging you to beg me."
Van pushed away his mug and stood on wobbly feet, only partly from the alcohol. "I gotta get going, guys," he said, inwardly rolling his eyes at his nervous alliteration. "Billy, it's been great, and happy birthday again, man."
Billy grinned up at him loopily, several more sheets to the wind than anyone else in the room. "Thanks, I love you, man."
Van laughed and nodded at Billy's roommate. "Get him home in one piece, will you?" David laughed and nodded.
Jake spoke up then. "I guess I should head out, too," he said. "Thanks for the invite, Billy, had a great time."
Billy waved and bobbed his head unsteadily. "See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya!"
Van waved at the few remaining people as he headed for the door, Jake a few steps behind him. Out on the sidewalk, Van held up a hand, keeping his back carefully to the bar--and Jake--as a cab glided to a stop in front of him. Pulling open the door, he slid across the back seat, quickly giving his address and keeping his head turned away as Jake followed him inside.
~~~~
Part 2
Author:
noelleleitheRating/Warnings: NC-17, RPF, AU
Summary: Jake pinned him with a look so raw and needy that Van nearly fell out of his seat
Other notes in Master Post
~~~~
Van slammed his way into the studio Monday morning, running late for the second time in two weeks. He still wasn't used to having to get up at five AM, and he really had to stop staying up too late, especially on Sunday nights. Soap actors were never irreplaceable, and he'd only been working a few months. The last thing he needed was to lose his very first real job because of something so stupid as oversleeping.
Practically running down the hall toward makeup, he didn't see the tall form that stepped in front of him until it was too late. He tried to swerve but tripped instead, crashing into the other man and wiping them both out into the wall. It wouldn't have been so bad, if the guy hadn't been holding a venti cup in each hand.
Hot coffee spattered them both. "Shit!" Van jumped away and shook off as much of the burning liquid as he could manage. "What the fuck, man? Watch where you're going!" Yeah, sure, it might be partly his fault, but he wasn't the one wandering around the studio with giant cups of Starbucks' finest.
"Oh my God, I am so sorry." The guy fell all over himself to apologize, almost literally, scrambling to get settled back on his feet and reaching out a hand toward Van. "Are you okay?"
"Well, yeah, other than the third-degree burns." Van glared. "You must be one of the new interns. Word of advice, never get in the way of the actors or crew. Especially not first thing on Monday morning."
He looked down at his soaked t-shirt and sighed. At least it wasn't one of his favorites. Grabbing the cloth at the back of his neck, he yanked it up over his head. A weird sound from the intern made him shoot another glare, meeting wide crystal blue.
"Better get busy," he said, lip curling. "Gotta fetch new coffee now."
He turned on his heel and stalked down the hall, muttering under his breath about incompetence and idiocy.
He hated Mondays.
~~~~
He'd been scheduled to film four days in a row that week, a record. The storyline was picking up, just a few weeks away from the biggest scenes, where Luke would finally come out to his family. It was equal parts exciting and nerve-wracking. At 24, Van felt a little weird playing a 16-year-old, but he knew he looked young for his age, and he certainly understood the importance of the role. He took it seriously, and that meant he took it hard when he didn't feel he was doing it justice.
Monday's filming went okay. Acceptable to the higher ups, at least. Not to Van. He had trouble sleeping that night, going over his performance in his head, trying to figure out where he could improve things the next day, make it work better. He finally slept, fitfully, despite knowing not getting enough rest would do nothing but make things harder.
He woke almost too late again, but at least this time he didn't have to dash down the hallway when he got to the studio. He made it halfway to makeup when he saw a familiar form leaning against the wall a few feet ahead of him, holding another venti cup. He lifted it as Van walked by.
"Coffee?" he asked. Van screeched to a halt, looked back over his shoulder. The guy just kept holding the cup, a tentative smile on his face.
Van shrugged. "Sure," he said, reaching to take the cup. "Um, thanks?"
He turned and walked away. He had no idea what that was about, unless it was the guy's way of apologizing for half scalding him the day before. He got free caffeine out of the deal, so he guessed it didn't matter either way.
~~~~
The intern started showing up in Van's path more often. Usually first thing in the morning, with coffee, although once with a pastry, too. (Van only fleeting wondered if he knew his favorite or just got lucky.) Van shrugged it off and figured someone was sending the new guy out for all of them.
A week and a half later, he nearly ran into Billy the same way he'd run into the intern. Billy, who had taken Van's place as the new guy on set just a few weeks earlier, had a laugh as big as the studio and broke it out at the drop of a suggestion. It echoed down the hallway, and out of the corner of his eye, Van saw a dark head turn their way.
Billy's gaze followed Van's. "Oh, I see your new best friend's waiting," he said in a low, teasing voice. "See if you can weasel him into bringing me coffee next time too, okay?"
Van blinked. "Wait. He's not bringing coffee for everyone?"
Billy winked, grinned full with dimples. "Nope," he said. "Just for you, golden boy."
Van rolled his eyes. "Great," he muttered. "Now they're hiring through the fan club? Don't we get enough of that already without having them in the studio?"
Billy shrugged. "Hey, take the compliment and the coffee," he said. "Or I'll take it off your hands."
"Have at it." Van stalked down the hallway, shooting a glare at the intern as he passed. He almost faltered when he saw the other man's face fall. But dammit, he was there to work, not to sign autographs. The boy could just get the hell over it and do his job.
By lunchtime, Van felt the shortage of caffeine. When Michael said someone was running out for Starbucks, he leapt at the chance. Fanboy was far from his mind, until he turned out to be the one bringing back the coffee.
Van forced a smile. "Thanks." He turned away, striking up a conversation with Jon about his daughter's latest milestones. He ignored the gaze he could feel on his back, until finally he heard the intern walk away.
~~~~
It took a couple of days for Van to realize he'd grown a new shadow. The intern--Van never had bothered to find out his name--kept turning up wherever Van went in the studio. He fetched coffee and lunches, delivered mail, ran props from one set to another. He didn't speak directly to Van unless necessary, although he seemed to have no trouble talking to anyone else.
When he delivered lunchtime Starbucks for the third time that week, Van overheard Jon thank him by name.
Jake.
After two more weeks, it had gotten to the point that Van tensed up whenever he saw Jake, whether he was nearby or not--although he usually was. He'd stand on the sidelines and watch Van film his scenes, eyes bright and wide. He still brought coffee, too, although after Van passed up that unsolicited morning cup, he never got it again unless he'd put in an order with everyone else.
Once, when Van left his prop laptop on the wrong set, Jake was the one who came running with it. Van flashed a quick smile but couldn't quite get the apology out.
He knew it shouldn't have bothered him so much. The guy was an intern, and interns on a television set were likely to be fans of some stripe. Van should take it as a compliment, that Jake so clearly seemed to like his work.
Instead, it made his skin crawl.
~~~~
He made it almost a month before he blew up. They were filming the toughest scenes he'd ever done that week, with Luke dealing with his cousin Jade's histrionics while trying to figure out how to come out to his parents. Van knew a lot of the pressure he felt came from himself, especially since his acting partners were all so great. Elena in particular was one of his closest friends, more like a soulmate than anything else.
None of that made it any easier for him to keep his cool when Jake showed up in his path yet again, third time in as many days, grinning and holding out the hoodie Van needed for his next scene. The one Van had been about to grab for himself.
Van ripped it out of his hands and glowered at him. "What is your problem?" he barked. "Why are you following me around all the time? Got a hard-on for the gay guy? 'Cause you know Luke's a fictional character, right? You do know what fiction means?"
Van's own sexuality was beside the point. Only a few people on set knew he was gay, and that didn't have anything to do with this anyway.
Jake's face fell for a second and then screwed up into a mask of anger and hatred. "Man, you sure are full of your own importance, aren't you?" he spat out. "I'm just trying to do my fucking job and be a nice guy and you can't even manage to be professional, much less friendly. I'll be sure to stay out of your high-and-mighty way from now on, Mister Hansis."
He turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving Van stunned in his path. He should have been satisfied. He'd gotten the guy off his back, that was for sure.
Then why did he feel like the biggest jerk in all of Brooklyn right now?
~~~~
Jake turned out to be as good as his word. Van didn't see him at all for a week, long enough that he actually wondered if he'd quit. Or maybe got fired, and that thought actually made Van feel bad enough that he had to ask, even though he didn't think anyone else had overheard their heated exchange.
"Hey, Billy." Billy stopped in the hallway outside Van's dressing room door and flashed the dimples. "That guy, Jake? The intern? He didn't get fired or anything, did he?"
The dimples disappeared into a frown. "No, I saw him this morning talking to Chris," Billy said. "Why, did something happen?"
Van shrugged, hiding his relief. "No, just wondered," he said. "He was everywhere and then just seemed to disappear."
"I can ask what's up if you--"
"No, no." Van cut off that train of thought immediately. "Not a big deal. Thanks, man. Hey, you going to Elena's St. Patty's party this weekend?" Van was thankful for a reason to change the subject.
Billy's trademark grin was back. "Oh yeah, wouldn't miss it," he said. "Any excuse to drink Irish whiskey and green beer is a-ok in my book!"
Van laughed and nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. Like wondering if Jake might have gotten an invitation, too.
~~~~
Jake had.
Halfway through his second Jameson on the rocks, Van bumped into someone as he walked across the room and turned, an apology on his lips. It died unspoken when his eyes met piercing, cold blue under dark curls. Jake's upper lip curled mockingly and he gave a curt nod before walking away.
Van's breath shuddered out of him in a rush, and an anvil landed in his stomach. He felt like pure, unfiltered shit. Jake had really done nothing at all to justify the way Van had treated him. Sure, Van knew he could be snarky to the point of bitchiness sometimes, but he usually only let that side of him show to his friends, people who knew him and knew it was nothing serious.
Jake had never been given that chance. Van had spewed crap all over him literally from day one, and it's a wonder he hadn't called him on it sooner. In his place, Van never would've lasted that long.
Van set down his glass on a side table and headed in the direction Jake had gone. Elena's apartment had a small balcony--overlooking a brick wall; after all, it was New York--and as Van got closer he could see a tall, slim, dark-haired form standing out there, head down, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat. The night was chilly even for a week short of spring, but Van took the chance and stepped out without looking for his own jacket.
Jake half-turned at the sound of the door closing behind Van. He rolled his eyes and swiveled back around.
"Get lost on your way to your throne room?"
Van bit back a retort. Crossing his arms tightly across his chest, half against the cold and half as self-protection, he took a step closer. "Look, Jake," he said. "I owe you an apology. I've been an ass and a half, and you didn't deserve any of that."
Jake shrugged one shoulder but didn't otherwise move. "Whatever."
Van sighed then. "Hey, I'm trying to say I'm sorry here, okay? It looks like we're probably going to be working together for a while, and you seem like a nice guy, and so am I, really."
Jake did move then, sending him a skeptical look. Van half-smiled. "No, really. I know we got off on the wrong foot, and okay, yeah, I've been known to hold a grudge a time or two, even when it wasn't deserved."
He stopped talking and sighed again. "Anyway. Can we maybe try again?" He unwrapped his arms and stood straight, holding out a hand. "Hi, I'm Van Hansis," he said. "It's nice to meet you."
Jake turned his head slowly, turned his body even more slowly. Stared at Van for a long moment, then his hand. Van was about two seconds away from giving up and writing it off as a bad job when Jake finally pulled his hand out of his pocket and reached for Van's, even throwing in a small smile.
"Jake Silbermann," he said. "It's nice to meet you, Van."
Long, slim fingers wrapped around Van's, and Van sucked in a breath at the contact. He shivered, and Jake suddenly looked concerned. "Hey, where's your jacket?" he said. "It's pretty cold out here with the wind between the buildings."
Van drew back his hand carefully and forced a smile. "I'm fine," he said. "But yeah, I think I'm heading back inside." He wrapped his arms across his chest again and tilted his head toward the door. "You coming? I think I owe you a drink."
Jake grinned then, straight white teeth and sharp canines on full display, and Van's heart tripped over itself. Damn. He's really pretty damn gorgeous, Van thought, immediately followed by, Oh shit. This could be very, very bad.
Or very, very good, a devilish part of his brain echoed back.
~~~~
Things were easier after that. Jake did actually turn out to be a nice guy. He was a couple of years younger than Van, so he fit in well with the rest of the young crowd around the studio, even though he was an intern instead of part of the cast. Over a few group lunches, Van learned that Jake had finished his coursework at Syracuse in the fall toward a degree in theater and was doing the internship to get the final credits he needed, along with a little industry experience. He was a Manhattan native living with his parents, but once the internship ended in May, he planned to move out and hit the audition circuit.
"Think I probably want to do behind the scenes eventually," he said to Billy in answer to his questions. "But I like acting more than I thought I would when I started. I know it's tough out there, but I'm gonna give it a shot."
Van started catching himself staring when Jake was nearby. Not that he thought anyone would blame him, considering the guy's looks, but especially after the way they'd started things off, the last thing he needed was to develop a crush at work. Plus, most of the cast and crew still didn't know he was gay, and that would definitely not be the way to come out. Coming out on camera, in character, had been hard enough. He'd rarely felt the sense of relief he did when they'd finished filming those scenes. After all his worry, he thought he nailed them, and cast and crew seemed to agree. Martha hugged him tight, smiling, and Jon shook his hand.
"You were really great today, Van," he said. "You're always great, but this was just ... they picked the perfect guy for this job."
Van barely stopped smiling for days after that.
~~~~
The weeks started flying by, now that the meat of the coming out story, and accompanying media scrutiny, were behind him. Van still had a lot of filming and some major storylines coming up, but he felt like he'd crested the mountain and survived onto the downhill slope. He hoped it'd be easier going from now on.
Not everything was, of course. The second week in April, Van found himself running late again. His brother had been visiting, and they'd stayed out until nearly two AM. Even with a late call, Van had to hustle to get to makeup on time.
Barreling down the same hallway where he'd smashed into Jake two months earlier, Van had just enough time for his eyes to widen when someone stepped out in front of him. They collided, spinning into the wall, Van's head hitting the painted cinderblock hard enough to make his eyes water. The other person fell hard against him, pinning him down.
Van's eyes opened and he stared into Jake's shocked blue eyes.
He stopped breathing.
Jake's body was hard against him, hands trapped between Van's back and the wall, one leg shoved between Van's. His mouth hung open in surprise, and it took every ounce of self control in Van's being not to lunge forward and stick his tongue into that opening.
Holy shit.
Van peeled his hands away from where they'd landed on Jake's back, pulled his hips back toward the wall, trying to get his skin away from Jake's so he wouldn't do anything either of them would regret. Jake seemed to shake out of his stupor and started pushing away, too.
"Sorry, sorry," he said as he worked on untangling them and righting himself. "I didn't see anyone coming, and Michael's holster got left in the police station set by accident and he needed it for his next scene, and--"
Van cut him off with the best grin he could manage. "It's okay, Jake," he said, trying to ignore the raspiness in his own voice. "At least there was no coffee involved this time."
Jake looked stricken for a moment, almost flinching, and Van's heart nearly stopped again. "Hey, seriously, it's okay," he repeated. "I shouldn't have been running like that." He lifted a hand toward Jake's shoulder but then jerked it back as if he were burned. "Um, I gotta go, though. Late for makeup."
He turned and headed on down the hall, head throbbing, but moving only a little slower than before. He could feel Jake's eyes on him the entire way.
~~~~
That night was the first time he jerked off to thoughts of Jake.
It wouldn't be the last.
~~~~
Jake noticed the difference in Van over the next few days, Van could tell. It got kind of obvious when Van switched paths to keep his distance, begged off on the lunchtime Starbucks run. Jake shot him more than one curious look, but Van just acted as if he didn't see, striking up a random conversation with whomever else was nearby or feigning a need for a bathroom run to justify staying well clear of Jake.
When he turned down Friday's movie night with the crowd, claiming a headache, Billy called him on it.
"A headache, Hansis?" he scoffed, only half kidding. "Look, if you don't want to be around us tonight, that's fine, but don't start making up half-assed excuses. No one's buying it."
Van sighed and glanced around, making sure no one else could overhear. "Look, it's a long story that I don't want to get into right now, but I'm just having a crappy week, okay? I'll try to be back to my normal assholish self after the weekend."
He grinned, forced though it felt, and Billy finally grinned back.
"Okay, but I'm holding you to that," he said, pointing a finger. "My birthday's next week, and the party's next Saturday night. No headache's gonna get you out of shooters and karaoke."
Van groaned. "Fuck, Billy," he said. "Shooters I can handle, but Jesus Christ, hell to the no on karaoke."
Billy laughed and slapped his shoulder. "You been watching bad reality TV again?" He grinned wider. "No wimping out, dude! It's a requirement."
Now Van really did have a headache.
~~~~
Van didn't sleep well over the weekend, which certainly didn't help his mood when Monday rolled around. He faked it the best he could, thankful that he only had three days in the studio that week. He laughed and mouthed along to "Happy Birthday" when they had Billy's birthday celebration at work on his actual birthday, late in the week, and after taking two Benadryl Friday night, he actually woke up late Saturday morning feeling pretty much back to normal.
They'd planned to meet at a pizza restaurant for dinner before hitting the club Billy had picked out for his first legal night of boozing. The dinner crowd was about half people from work and half Billy's musician friends, with a few extra people from various places added in. Van shifted around until he managed to claim a seat between Elena and a friend of Billy's he'd never met before.
Elena leaned over almost immediately to whisper in his ear. "You okay?"
Van nodded and shrugged. "Fine," he said. "Why, don't I seem fine?"
"Not really." Elena studied his face, but Van couldn't quite meet her eyes. "Something's up with you. And intuition is telling me that it's probably some guy."
Van's eyes widened. "Elena!" he hissed. "C'mon, you know I don't talk about that stuff around work people."
Elena smirked. "And that reaction right there tells me I just hit the nail on the head." She picked up her beer mug and brought it to her mouth, whispering around the edge. "Is he here?"
Van couldn't help himself. His gaze flicked over to land on Jake for just a second. Jake sat near the far end of the table, talking to Billy's drummer and a girl Van thought might be Billy's last ex-girlfriend, the first one he'd actually stayed friends with. Van realized his mistake a half-second too late, as he heard Elena's intake of breath.
"Jake?" Her mouth was barely an inch from his ear, so no one else would hear. "Seriously? Is he even gay?"
"Stop it, Elena." Van pushed her away half-heartedly. "I don't know and I don't care. It's just a silly crush that'll go away," like they always do, he thought but didn't say. "Okay?"
"Mmm-hmmm." She didn't sound convinced. "And the fact that you work together?"
"Is all the more reason to ignore it," Van finished. He took a big swig of beer, then another. "Look, I know you mean well, Elena, and you know I love you for it. But I'm fine, really. I'll be back to normal in no time." He forced a laugh. "Well, as normal as I get, anyway."
Elena wasn't buying it for a second, but she just looked at him again for a long moment and finally shrugged. "Okay," she said. "Whatever you say."
Van sighed. He knew that wouldn't be all of it, but at least she'd back off for now.
~~~~
The bar Billy picked for after dinner was small, cramped, smoky, and dark, but it had cheap beer and shooters and all the karaoke anyone could want. Van wanted none, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to keep from having anything to do with that part of the evening.
Their crowd thinned out a bit after dinner, several of the attendees being underage, but they still had a solid dozen, crowding into tables between the bar and the tiny stage in the corner. Billy ordered a round of pitchers and shots, taking his first shot and chugging half a mug before heading for the stage and calling up, of all things, "Once Bitten Twice Shy." Van rolled his eyes and reached for his beer.
"Hey."
Van nearly choked as he realized the soft greeting had come from Jake, who'd slid into the seat next to Van. Van swallowed and smiled.
"Hey," he answered. Thinking fast, he nodded at Billy, who was working the stage like the semi-pro that he was. "You next up?"
Jake laughed lowly and picked up his own beer. "Not before I get a few more of these into me," he said, taking a substantial drink.
Van laughed at that. "I'm planning to sneak out the back door before anyone realizes I never got up there," he said. "I'll do a lot of things, but karaoke isn't on the list."
"What is?"
Van looked at Jake, puzzled. "What is, what?"
"On the list," Jake replied. "You said you'll do a lot of things. What do you do? Other than act and drink."
He grinned, and Van tried not to stare at his mouth or the crinkles around those beautiful eyes. Van sipped his beer to soothe his suddenly dry throat. "Lots of things," he answered. "Movies, concerts, restaurants. Museums sometimes. Comic books."
"Comic books? Seriously?" Jake smiled wider, which Van didn't think possible, and his eyes brightened. "I love comic books. I have boxes and boxes that my mom keeps telling me I should get rid of because I'm too old for them."
Van had to laugh at that. "Sounds familiar," he said. "My mom doesn't buy the old 'but they're collectors' items!' argument any more. But at least they aren't in her house now, so she doesn't really have a say about it."
Jake set down his beer and leaned forward, arms folded on the table. "How often do you get back to Massachusetts to visit?"
Van froze, beer mug halfway to his mouth. "Um," he said. "How did ...?"
Jake flushed and covered his face with one hand. "Oh man," he said. "Sorry. I just." He peeked out between his fingers. "I might've read an interview or two. Here and there."
Van lifted an eyebrow, caught between embarrassment and interest. "Have you been reading the fan rags, Jake?"
Jake shrugged one shoulder, dropping his hand from his face to run fingers through a circle of condensation on the tabletop. "Maybe one or two." He glanced up from under his lashes. "I found out I got the internship last fall, so I started watching the show as much as I could. And, well, when you started, I was, um, really impressed. You're a really great actor, Van."
Van flushed, embarrassment winning out. He knew it was part of being an actor, which he loved, but he really wasn't comfortable with the whole "having fans" thing, even though this wasn't quite the same. His gaze dropped to his hand where it was wrapped around the handle of his nearly empty mug. "Thanks," he whispered. "Always nice to hear from a fan."
Jake shifted in his seat, and when Van looked up, Jake's face was much closer. Van sucked in a breath as their eyes met, and he watched as the clear blue drained from Jake's, overtaken by deep navy and the black of pupils.
"Next up!" Billy slapped Jake on the shoulder, almost knocking his head into Van's. Van sat back quickly, lifting his beer and finishing it off in one swallow. He looked everywhere except at Jake, who'd slid his chair an extra foot or so away, his cheeks pink as he argued with Billy over whose turn should be next. One of Billy's other friends finally caved and headed for the stage, and Van took advantage of the arriving round of fresh shooters, letting the liquid heat burn away the rough edge of his arousal.
He really should get out of there. Go home, jump into the shower, and let his right hand take care of things, like it had been doing for the past couple of weeks. Instead, he reached for another beer and drank deeply, soothing his throat. Watched Jake out of the corner of his eye. Pretended not to notice when he saw Jake watching back.
~~~~
Jake got up to hit the restroom a couple of songs (and rounds) later, and Van wasn't surprised at all when Elena slid into his abandoned seat. "Well?"
Van scowled at her. "Well, what?" He tossed back another shot and reached for his fresh mug of beer.
"Well, what were you and Jake pow-wowing about over here?" Her eyes flashed.
"Just small talk," Van murmured. "Nothing major."
Elena rolled her eyes. "Liar," she stated. "You should know by now that kind of deflection doesn't work with me."
Van sighed. "He's a ... a fan, I guess," he admitted. "He said he started watching the show late last year and liked my acting. And he's read some interviews. It just ... t's weird." He shook his head. "You know I've never liked the whole fan thing much. It all feels so fake."
Elena sighed, sliding her chair closer as the music started up for Billy's second round on stage. "It's not really like that, though," she said. "He works with us. You knew him already before you knew any of that. You liked him already. That shouldn't change anything."
Van shrugged one shoulder, running a finger around the edge of his beer glass. "I guess," he said. "It's just ... I don't know what it is. I don't know anything any more." He sighed. "Can we just ... not talk about this here? Please?"
Elena studied him for a moment and then nodded, picking up her beer and turning her attention to Billy. Van followed suit, resolving not to think about any of it that night.
~~~~
It was well past midnight when Jake finally got sloshed enough to take to the stage, and even then it took some serious cajoling on Billy's behalf. Van recognized the song a few notes in and should have left right that second. He didn't, even though he knew he'd be digging his own grave by staying.
Watching Jake sing and laugh and (sort of) dance to "I Want You to Want Me" ranked in the top three of the sexiest things Van had ever seen in his life. Jake's shirt, already damp with sweat from the heat of the crowded bar, clung to his body in the best ways as he moved, tight jeans hanging low on his hips. Van tried not to stare at his crotch, but while he was far from trashed, he'd had enough to drink that his inhibitions were on the low end. Way, way on the low end. Jake dressed right, Van quickly learned, and either he had a massive dick or he was getting pretty damn turned on--or possibly both, because that was some bulge next to his zipper.
Van drained another beer in the time it took Jake to finish his performance. His own jeans were fucking uncomfortable by then, and he really needed to get out of there before he did something they'd all regret. Like slam Jake down right there on the table in front of everyone and try to remove his tonsils using only his tongue.
Jake returned to a hero's welcome, gladhanding all around, everyone teasing and laughing as he flushed brighter pink and grinned. Van steeled himself as Jake approached his end of the table, but nothing could have prepared him for meeting Jake's eyes. Jake pinned him with a look so raw and needy that Van nearly fell out of his seat, but before Van could react, Jake stepped around his chair, leaned in close to his ear, and whispered, "I'm begging you to beg me."
Van pushed away his mug and stood on wobbly feet, only partly from the alcohol. "I gotta get going, guys," he said, inwardly rolling his eyes at his nervous alliteration. "Billy, it's been great, and happy birthday again, man."
Billy grinned up at him loopily, several more sheets to the wind than anyone else in the room. "Thanks, I love you, man."
Van laughed and nodded at Billy's roommate. "Get him home in one piece, will you?" David laughed and nodded.
Jake spoke up then. "I guess I should head out, too," he said. "Thanks for the invite, Billy, had a great time."
Billy waved and bobbed his head unsteadily. "See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya!"
Van waved at the few remaining people as he headed for the door, Jake a few steps behind him. Out on the sidewalk, Van held up a hand, keeping his back carefully to the bar--and Jake--as a cab glided to a stop in front of him. Pulling open the door, he slid across the back seat, quickly giving his address and keeping his head turned away as Jake followed him inside.
~~~~
Part 2
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