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[personal profile] peg22

Showmance
by Kaye

Told during the filming of Snowstorm. Fufills both the spotted dog and barrier prompt - oh and the beer one too.
First time. First time I wrote them at the first time. First time for everything I guess.

For Sue - because she asked and she kicks ass.


 

Showmance

 an RPS tag to Snowstorm

 

 

By the time they got back to David’s car, the building was dark, the doors locked. They had taken Paul’s car out to the location – neither one comfortable yet with drivers and limos – and the transportation guys had stored David’s car in the truck garage. David peeked in the window – his new BMW squeezed between two Torinos – one red, one blue. He wished they’d use the blue one.

 

“Looks like I’m walking.” He turned to Paul.

 

“Don’t be an asshole, I’ll take you home.” Paul slapped David on the back. “But you’re buying me a drink first.”

 

“Where?”

 

“I don’t know – Jakes?”

 

“We’re banned from Jakes.”

 

“You’re banned – I can go – without you.”

 

“Why would you want to go without me?” David smiled and wriggled his eyebrows. “We’re a matched set now. You know, Me and Thee?”

 

Paul rolled his eyes “So they say, so they say.” He got in the car. “You know this is just a TV show, right?”

 

David slipped into the little MG and shut the door. “This is our big break, my friend.”

 

“Let’s hope not.” Paul drove off the lot, maneuvering through the traffic on Pico. “So where are we going? I’m serious about that drink. That fucking dog gave me a headache.”

 

“I thought you loved animals.” David rolled down the window and lit two cigarettes. Handed one to Paul.

 

“What was the deal with that dog anyway? You ever figure it out?” Paul turned toward Hollywood. “Fucking barking – I thought Aaron was going to shoot him.”

 

They’d spent most of the day down in Culver City, rolling behind cars, running onto rooftops. But even with the dog, this episode felt like a vacation. Last week they’d spent hours holed up on the soundstage, David sweating and pacing, trying to stay in his heroin-addicted character’s brain. They had also spent a few nights together, chasing the demons away, cementing their still new partnership in the time honored traditions of bar brawls and heart to hearts. The show felt good. Felt like they could do something different. They didn’t want to let it go.

 

David sighed. “Yeah, fucking dog. I did love your stuff in the office. Felt real.”

 

“You mean me tripping over Bernie and almost impaling myself on the light pole?”

 

“No, I didn’t notice that one – I was talking about the way you took – what was his name – John, the guy playing the lawyer? The way you used his jacket – the sat on him.”

 

Paul smiled. “Yeah, got lucky – looked pretty good and they kept it. But what about you yesterday? Great stuff – dropping those rounds out of the gun – I’m starting to love your Hutch.”

 

David reached over and rubbed Paul’s leg. “Yeah, me too.”

 

Paul placed his hand over David’s. “Seriously, Davey – couldn’t be luckier – sharing this with you.”

 

David chuckled.

 

“What?” Paul asked, removing his hand. ‘Sorry, man.”

 

David squeezed his thigh. “No, no, you dumbass – I like that – like you. It’s just that nobody calls me Davey – not even my Mom. Just caught me off guard.”

 

“I won’t – “

 

“Yes, you will. I like it. Fits. Like us.” David moved his hand to the back of Paul’s neck. “I think we’re both lucky.”

 

Paul leaned his head back into the massage. “That feels good.”

 

“Take me to your place, then. I’ll give you the whole treatment.”

 

“The whole treatment? The David Soul Special?” Paul turned down Sunset, headed west.

 

“I’m just saying you’re all kinked up and I learned some Shiatsu last summer in Tokyo.”

 

“Does this work with all the girls? This line?”

 

David moved his hand away. “Sorry – I think you . . . well I just wanted . . . oh hell, Paulie – we both feel it. Don’t tell me you don’t.”

 

Paul pulled off on a side street and shut off the engine. He turned in the seat. David lit another cigarette – just one this time – and brushed a stray piece of tobacco off his lip.

 

“See, it’s that.” Paul pointed.

 

David looked at his shirt, at the cigarette. Shrugged. “What? It’s what?”

 

“You. You sit there with those legs and those lips and all that sincerity and you call me Paulie – “

 

“You called me Davey . . .”

 

“. . . and I’ve been more inspired and turned on by you in the last month than by any actor I’ve ever worked with – “

 

“Including Topol?” David raised an eyebrow.

 

“Don’t be a fucking asshole. I think you have a tendency to deflect your real emotions by turning into a fucking asshole.”

 

“I love you too, Paulie. Paulie. I like it. Better than Michael. Or Paul. Or Peter or Mary . . .”

 

“Oh forget it.” Paul started the car.

 

David laid a hand on his arm. “No, I’m sorry – I am a fucking asshole. It’s just that I get it. Whatever this is – is intense. It’s like we’re sitting on something powerful, something that could be really oh, I don’t know, and it gets . . .

 

“Intense.”

 

“Yeah, so what do we do?”

 

Paul eased back out into traffic. “We go get a drink. And talk. And figure us out and them out.”

 

“Them?” David stretched his legs. “You gotta get a bigger car.”

 

“Yes, them. Us. I mean, they are whoever we want them to be. And no, I am not getting a bigger car. I have to drive that monster all day – going to have a good ride for my life.”

 

David laid his arm across the back of the seat. “I think we’re going to have a great ride.” He fingered the small curls at the back of Paul’s neck. “This okay?”

 

Paul smiled. “It’s okay. I’m pretty sure our guys are open to  . . . the possibilities.”

 

David swallowed hard. “Really? Think Starsky’s got a hard one for his partner?”

 

“No – I mean I think they . . . well . . . I mean . . . they are close.”

 

“Closer all the time,” David murmured as they pulled into the parking lot of a liquor store.

 

He bought whiskey, cigars, Ruffles, and a case of beer. They stopped at a deli and headed out to the beach. They drank and talked and smoked and the night turned into the morning and Paul drove up into the Malibu hills and they sat on the hood of the car and watched the sun rise.

 

“Call’s at noon, right?” Paul stood and stretched. “I need a nap.”

 

“Yeah, noon. We’re on the lot today.” David popped open another beer. “I think we should just drink ourselves awake.”

 

“You would.” Paul walked around to the door of the car. “We’ll never make it over to Pico at this hour. You want to get a hotel?”

 

David snickered. “Why Starsky – what are you asking?”

 

“Are you going to call me Starsky all the time?”

 

David hopped off the hood. “Yep, Paulie – I’m going to call you Starsky for the rest of your miserable life. When we’re ninety and your teeth are gone and your jowls are long, I’m going to call you Starsky.”

 

“When we’re ninety, you will have no liver and no hair. I’m not worried. Now, me and this car are going down to that little place on the beach Tony told us about and I’m going to sleep for four hours. You can come with me or sit up here with the birds and think up new ways to torture me. Either way, we leave for work at 11. Okay?”

 

David saluted and got into the car.

 

They got just inside the door to the room – a single, the only one left – and the locked clicked and they both turned and bumped heads, and David spilled his beer on Paul’s shoulder and Paul turned to say something and David bent forward to brush the bubbles off Paul’s shirt and instead brushed his fingers across Paul’s mouth and Paul looked surprised and David looked surprised and the first kiss exploded the last barriers they had been trying to drink away and Paul wrapped his hands around David’s shoulders, moaning as David’s tongue explored his mouth, David’s hand sliding down the front of Paul’s shirt, kneading.

 

When they broke away, Paul was panting.  David set his beer down and reached for Paul again.

 

“Wait . . . I  . . . shouldn’t we . . .”

 

“Goddamn it, Paulie – if you say we should say one more sentence, one more fucking syllable about what I’m about to do to you . . .”

 

David pushed and Paul pushed back, not wanting to move closer, move in, move toward something he could never ever take back. But also wanting it more than just about anything else.

 

David rubbed his hand on Paul’s crotch. “Come on . . . you have to.”

 

Paul, wondering how David could look so drunk and so haggard and so angelic at the same goddamn time, twisted away and walked backward toward the bed. “Okay, but we have to  . . . what if this  . . . I just can’t . . .”

 

David walked toward Paul. “We will. It won’t. You have to.” David stood still. Waiting.

 

Paul sighed. Ran a hand through his hair. And then took a step toward David. And David took Paul in his arms. And that certain on screen chemistry that everyone from Aaron Spelling to the office PA had been talking about for months exploded off the screen and into a thousand nerve endings and a hundred kisses as they tumbled to the bed.

 

After the initial combustion, they did it slow. Slick bodies, steam radiating, moans and sighs. Paul learned David was all knees and elbows, and David learned Paul shuddered in the sexiest way every time he touched his stomach, hairy and soft, his dick hard against David’s palm, Paul’s hands twisted in David’s hair, his legs wrapped around David chest, coming half off the bed when he came, settling back on the bed in a boneless fog.

 

“Learn that in Tokyo?” Paul tried to find his natural breathing rhythm so he could talk.

 

David crawled up beside him. “You always talk right after?” He leaned down, fingers searching for a cigarette. The pack had fallen between the bed and a boot. He found two, lit them, and passed Paul one. Paul took a hit, and moved his leg over David’s thigh. David rolled to his back, his arm over his head.

 

“We going to work?”

 

Paul turned onto his back. “We’re always going to work. We are work.”

 

“You are work. I am play. Remember that.”

 

Paul sighed. “Oh yeah, I’ll remember.”

 

They stayed another hour. Learned a few more things about each other. Showed up on set in the same clothes they left in. Looked like hell, stood too close, laughed too much. Kept cracking up whenever they had to talk about the dog. Took their lunch break in David’s trailer. Had a fight over Paul’s sunglasses. Made up over a hot dog at the catering truck. Started rumors. Drove away from the set in two cars. Drove back the next day in one.

 

Tony chuckled when he saw them pull up in the next morning. “You know, you ruined my odds.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Paul reached into the trunk for his bag.

 

“I was sure you’d wait till hiatus.”

 

“What are you talking about?” David took the bag from Paul, brushing his hand against Paul’s stomach. Paul leaned in to the touch, and then closed the trunk.

 

“What am I talking . . . that act really work for you?” Tony leaned against the car. “I’m just saying you two better either cool it or really heat it up.”

 

“Cool what?” David looked at Paul, who shook his head and shrugged.

 

“Let me just say and you know this comes from a friend.” Tony leaned in and lowered his voice. “I mean a real friend . . .”

 

David got it first. “Oh, well, Tony, it’s not like we . . .”

 

Tony held up his hand. “Don’t bother to deny it, my friend. Just wanted to tell you that it’s not just the discerning amongst us who are beginning to talk . . . Ellen in payroll asked me this morning if I thought Starsky and Hutch were ‘together, together’.”

 

“Oh . . .” Paul caught up to the conversation.

 

“Yeah, oh.” Tony slapped Paul on the back. “So, it’s cool. Whatever. Just be . . . well, you know.”

 

David smiled. “Oh yeah, we know. Thanks Tony – you’re a friend.”

 

“Yes, and don’t forget it. You boys need your Huggy.” Tony headed toward the set.

 

“I’m not sure I know what he was talking about – was he talking about . . . us?”

 

David put his arm around Paul and they followed Tony. “He was just saying that Starsky and Hutch need to go undercover.”

 

“Undercover?”

 

“Deep cover.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Paulie – how could you forget so soon? Who do we trust here? I mean really. Who do we trust?”

 

Paul rolled his eyes and ducked under David’s arm, heading for his trailer. “You know this is just a TV show, right Davey? TV.”

 

“Oh yeah, I know – Me and Thee TV. And me will see thee tonight. Right?”

 

Paul didn’t know how it all got so complicated and so goddamn simple. “Right Davey. Always right.”

 

“Remember that, Paulie. May save your life one day.”

 

Paul wondered if it already had.

 

fin


Date: 2010-10-30 11:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dipslikeramon.livejournal.com
Oh, wow. Fucking WOW! What a great first time! This was like Christmas and birthday all rolled into one, and really helped my head let go of certain things for a while.

God, I love this stuff, and I love you, too.

*bighugs* This was just perfect. Just perfect.

Date: 2010-10-31 04:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] peg22.livejournal.com
thanks girly. the wife said yesterday, "Now go in there and write Sue some crack!"
So I did. Then she got mad cuz it only took me 2 hours . . .

xoxo

Date: 2010-10-31 04:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dipslikeramon.livejournal.com
Well, that's one load of laundry I owe you. Keep tabs, cause I always keep up my end of the bargain. Write enough, and you two may have a slave for life. :D

Date: 2010-10-31 12:49 am (UTC)
tinx_r: (Default)
From: [personal profile] tinx_r
Very cute :)

Date: 2010-10-31 04:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] peg22.livejournal.com
thanks!

Date: 2010-10-31 01:46 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nancys-soul.livejournal.com
Yep that's exactly how it happened! Great read! More please!

Date: 2010-10-31 04:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] peg22.livejournal.com
I believe so, too - just transcribing the tapes . . . thanks for reading!

Date: 2010-10-31 03:10 am (UTC)
ext_25473: my default default (FRIENDS)
From: [identity profile] lauramcewan.livejournal.com
Paul didn’t know how it all got so complicated and so goddamn simple.

THAT was a fucking brilliant line. Absofucking brilliant. Love this first time - so natural. I can see it going down, just this way.

*happiest of happy sighs*

Date: 2010-10-31 04:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] peg22.livejournal.com
thank you girly! love these boys - glad you guys make me write it!

Date: 2010-10-31 10:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] provencepuss.livejournal.com
oh good grief woman....tihs is one of the best I've ever read!

Date: 2010-10-31 04:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] peg22.livejournal.com
oh wow, thanks. and thanks for reading!

Date: 2010-10-31 01:09 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] igbc.livejournal.com
You are brilliant and this is my new fave. Thank you!

Date: 2010-10-31 04:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] peg22.livejournal.com
oh thanks! and now your icon has many layers of meaning . . . since this was the day after in my mind - and in the transcripts of course . . .

Date: 2010-10-31 05:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] callistosh65.livejournal.com
“Goddamn it, Paulie – if you say we should say one more sentence, one more fucking syllable about what I’m about to do to you . . .” So godamn hot and in character,even though I have never even met the ma..*g* Such a treat, darlin', thank you kindly.

Date: 2010-11-07 04:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] peg22.livejournal.com
thanks girly - this crack just writes itself, really.

Date: 2010-10-31 06:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] youtooblondie.livejournal.com
ya know, i was just thinking about you yesterday... wondering to myself, oh, i'd love an rps by kaye-like NOW... 'cause you know, i'm always reading court and spark... and here you are and here it is! and oh!
man, that was good. i wish i had another word, but it was just so... good. and this... "Paul, wondering how David could look so drunk and so haggard and so angelic at the same goddamn time, "- well, that says it all right there. ah, those angels with dirty wings.. or minds... or whatever!
loved this... so much.
:)

Date: 2010-11-07 04:07 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] peg22.livejournal.com
oh thanks. sigh, I love court and spark too - I wish I could write another one like that.
love the idea of angels with dirty wings! glad you liked it!

Date: 2010-10-31 11:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] matildabishop.livejournal.com
Now that's what I'm talking about!

Absolutely ace rps!

*salutes you*

Date: 2010-11-07 04:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] peg22.livejournal.com
thank you! love the rps! and love your icon!

Date: 2010-11-06 07:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] annereeve.livejournal.com
Awesome! My favourite part:

And that certain on screen chemistry that everyone from Aaron Spelling to the office PA had been talking about for months exploded off the screen and into a thousand nerve endings and a hundred kisses as they tumbled to the bed.

Date: 2010-11-07 04:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] peg22.livejournal.com
oh thanks. yeah, you know there were thousands of rumors on that set!

Date: 2012-02-21 01:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] edioval.livejournal.com
"You are work. I'm play. Remember that". How many He's this, I'm that have there been? I think the cover of SHareCon 2004 had them all, but missed this one.

Still having fun, working my way backwards...

Date: 2013-09-02 03:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sjames-centre.livejournal.com
If you're going to be away for ten days, at least I have these stories to keep me company. This was amazing btw, so good and funny and real.

Like you.
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