Daniel nunca antes había estado tan seguro de que iba a morir. Sin embargo, en el fondo, tenía que admitir que perecer a manos de un grupo de matones brutos después de una desastrosa fiesta de Halloween, a la que ni siquiera había querido ir, tenía el toque de drama perfecto para terminar su vida repentinamente miserable desde que se había mudado. Los Cobras, aunque violentos, eran al menos lo suficientemente considerados como para sostenerlo en brazos cuando ya no podía mantenerse en pie. Nadie hubiera querido patearlo en el suelo; eso sí hubiera sido realmente feo y deshonroso. Cada respiración le dolía tanto que estaba seguro de que le habían roto algo dentro.
Cuando sus párpados comenzaron a sentirse pesados, cayó al suelo y supo que estaba perdiendo la conciencia. Lo último que vio antes de cerrar los ojos fue una sombra, una que, igual que un ninja, derribó a sus atacantes y se ganó limpiamente el título de héroe en la mente de Daniel. La oscuridad lo envolvió y, con ella, un silencio que resultaba casi reconfortante.
Su triunfal regreso al mundo de los vivos fue marcado por la sensación caliente de una tela húmeda sobre su frente, un olor horrendo a hierbas y el recordatorio simultáneo de que probablemente ya no tenía huesos, sino astillas en su lugar. Con un quejido bastante patético, intentó quitarse el trapo de la cara.
—Dejar...
—Apesta. ¿Qué es? —Daniel miró a su alrededor, desorientado porque su cerebro estaba demasiado ocupado sintiendo dolor. La habitación era pequeña, desordenada y estaba escasamente iluminada por una débil lámpara que proyectaba sombras inquietantes en las paredes.
—Oler mal, sanar bien.
—¿A dónde se fue el hombre araña? —obedeció y, en lugar de apartar el trapo, lo sostuvo con fuerza. El anciano tenía razón; ofrecía un alivio extraño a pesar del horrible aroma.
—¿Quién?
—Ese hombre que me rescató. ¿Dónde se fue? —Daniel bromeaba a medias, pero incluso su mente, a medio funcionar, parecía rechazar la idea de que fuera el viejo conserje quien hizo semejante proeza—. ¿Fue usted? ... No puede ser.
—¿Y por qué no?
—Porque... porque... —Daniel se detuvo a tiempo antes de decir algo muy seguramente estúpido. Se sentía inútil como una muñeca de trapo, intentando averiguar qué partes de su cuerpo podía mover sin querer llorar de dolor.
—¿Porque... anciano?
Mientras servía dos tazas de té, el hombre mayor sonreía divertido, como si también le pareciera gracioso pelear así de bien a su edad. Bueno, era el momento de intentar levantarse y su cuerpo protestó. El dolor en sus costillas le pinchó fuerte cuando intentó enderezarse y, joder, el binder se le enterraba en la piel herida recordándole que llevaba muchas horas con esa cosa puesta, pero a esa sensación de asfixia continua estaba más que acostumbrado.
Los brazos del señor Miyagi le invitaron a volver a intentarlo, esta vez con la seguridad de que no se iba a caer sobre la cama si no tenía la fuerza. Por un momento, se sintió como un niño pequeño al que ayuda su padre. La calidez y firmeza de sus manos transmitían una extraña mezcla de seguridad y respeto.
—Beber té, sentirte mejor.
Las manos que le mostraron cómo sostener la taza de té fueron tiernas pero firmes con él, casi como si no hubieran hecho pedazos a cinco chicos fortachones y confiados. Daniel tampoco hubiera creído que el hombre de mantenimiento de su edificio fuera capaz de algo así.
—¿Por qué no me lo dijo?
—¿Decir qué? —preguntó Miyagi con fingida inocencia, ocupado con su taza de té.
—Que sabía karate.
—Nunca preguntar.
Buen punto, pero le había visto intentar aprender por su cuenta y no le había dicho nada. Debía estarse riendo de él cuando le vio repetir sus movimientos frente a una revista.
—¿Dónde aprendió?
En la mente de Daniel, la imagen del hombre mayor en un Dojo de Karate parecía imposible. Las luces titilaban ligeramente, creando un ambiente casi místico mientras Miyagi hablaba.
—Padre.
—Pensé que era pescador...
El anciano dejó su taza a un lado para poder usar ambas manos y acompañar su relato.
—En Okinawa todos los Miyagis saber dos cosas: pescar y karate. Karate venir de China siglo XVI, llamarse "te" mano y mucho después ancestro de Miyagi llamar "kara te" mano vacía.
Daniel asintió. Había algo realmente sagrado en esa explicación, siglos de enseñanza de padres a hijos que le intrigaron, se sentía como algo grande e importante de lo cual formar parte.
—Siempre pensé que provenía de los templos budistas o algo así...
—Tú mirar mucha TV.
—Mi madre me dice lo mismo... —Daniel se preguntó si el señor Miyagi tenía hijos que habrían aprendido de él sus artes marciales ancestrales—. ¿Alguna vez le enseñó a alguien?
—No.
Le colocó de nuevo el trapo, esta vez sobre su mandíbula adolorida.
Rayos, esperaba que se ofreciera a enseñarle después de verlo en problemas. Pero Daniel no se iba a rendir tan fácil.
—¿Y lo haría?
—Depende.
—¿De qué?
—Razón.
—Por venganza —parecía tan obvio. ¿Qué otra razón tendría? Más allá de intentar balancear las cosas después de un claro intento de homicidio.
—Daniel-san, si buscar la venganza así, empezar a cavar dos tumbas.
—Al menos tendré compañía, ¿no? —Después de sonreír con su propia broma, dejó la taza frente a él. No iba a dejar que el intento de sabiduría lo persuadiera.
—Pelear siempre última respuesta al problema.
Daniel cambió la tela de mano y, mientras comprobaba que en efecto la mandíbula le dolía al abrirla, se jaló el binder un poco para intentar respirar mejor.
—No se ofenda, señor Miachi, pero no creo que entienda mi problema.
—Mi-ya-gi —el hombre mayor hizo énfasis en su nombre de nuevo—. Entender problema perfecto... Tus amigos todos... ser estudiantes de karate.
—¿Amigos? Ah, sí, esos chicos. —Ahora que la hierba había hecho su trabajo, Daniel se entretuvo buscando daños en su rostro. Su madre iba a estar mortificada cuando lo viera.
—Problema actitud.
—No, el problema es que me patean el trasero cada dos días, ese es el problema.
La cara le dolía, justo arriba del ojo, y al tocarse notó que le había limpiado la herida y puesto un curita donde la piel se había abierto por los golpes.
—Sí, porque chicos tener mala actitud... Karate solo para defensa.
—No es lo que a ellos les enseñan.
Se metió la mano entre el binder y las costillas para tomar aire, como si eso ayudara.
—Entender. No haber malos estudiantes, haber mal maestro. Maestro decir, ellos hacer.
—Oh, genial, eso me soluciona todo —contestó sarcásticamente—. Iré a la escuela y lo hablaré con el profesor, no hay problema.
—Ahora usas cabeza para otra cosa que para atacar.
—Era sólo una broma.
Daniel sonrió a medias, incrédulo de tener que explicar ese punto.
—¿Por qué broma?
—Porque me matarían si fuera allí.
—Mmm, igual te matarán. —En otra circunstancia, Daniel se habría reído de la tranquilidad con la que el Sr. Miyagi dio un sorbo a su té después de semejante declaración. Pero tal vez valía la pena intentarlo.
—¿Vendría conmigo?
Miyagi negó de inmediato, como si Daniel hubiera sugerido una tontería.
—No poder.
—¿Por qué? Dijo que era una buena idea...
—Para ti buena idea, para mí buena idea no involucrarme.
—No, pero usted ya está involucrado, digo...
¿Salvarlo esa noche no había sido involucrarse? Ahora parecía que quería lavarse las manos con él como si nada.
—Tttt, lo siento mucho.
—¿Qué? ¡Ah! ¡Gracias por nada entonces!
Lanzó el trapo y se levantó enojado, ignorando por completo la protesta de su cuerpo por el ímpetu repentino.
—¡Gracias por nada, como si ya no tuviera suficientes problemas! Ahora también tendré que responder por lo que hizo usted. No me haga más favores, ¿de acuerdo?
—Daniel-san...
—¿Qué? —Se detuvo bruscamente, aún con la mano en la puerta.
—De acuerdo, yo ir.
Daniel deshizo sus pasos y se acercó con una sonrisa. Por un momento, quiso abrazarlo, pero se arrepintió en el último instante.
En cuanto lo tuvo cerca, el hombre levantó la mano y le acercó el trapo húmedo qué había recuperado a Daniel, presionando de manera firme pero amable contra su piel adolorida.
—Miyagi —le corrigió.
—Miyagi, Miyagi. ¿Qué cinturón tiene?
El señor Miyagi se separó de él para poner las manos sobre el cinturón, dedicándole una sonrisa enorme.
—De tela. ¿Gustar? Comprar a sólo 3.98.
Daniel no hizo ningún esfuerzo por reírse.
—No me refería a ese cinturón, digo...
—En Okinawa, cinturón ser solo para sostener pantalones —lanzó una carcajada con ganas, a costa de Daniel.
—¡Qué gracioso!
—Daniel-san...
—¿Qué?
El señor Miyagi volvió a un semblante serio, solemne.
—Karate aquí —señaló con su mano a su cabeza—, karate aquí —señaló su corazón, y por último, se volvió a sostener el cinturón—, karate nunca aquí. ¿Entiendes?
—Creo que sí.
Daniel asintió pensativo.
El señor Miyagi lo miró fijamente y, después de un segundo de silencio, cuando le vio de nuevo con la mano sobre las costillas, preguntó:
—Daniel-san... ¿Esa prenda bajo tu playera? ¿Estar lastimado antes?
Daniel se quedó congelado un momento. El miedo comenzó a subir por su garganta mientras se llevaba la mano al hombro, donde metió los dedos entre el binder y su piel nerviosamente. Ahora que había conseguido un aliado, era el peor momento para quedar así de expuesto. ¿Se negaría el señor Miyagi a ayudarlo cuando le contara la verdad? Nadie fuera de su familia sabía, ni sus amigos más cercanos en New Jersey. Y aquí, a kilómetros de su hogar, en una ciudad llena de extraños hostiles y adolescentes intentando matarlo, era seguramente el lugar menos probable para encontrar alguien que pudiera entenderlo. Una gota resbaló desde la tela que sostenía contra su rostro hasta su mejilla y cerró los ojos un momento. El líquido permanecía tibio y ese terrible olor a hierba le picaba directo en la nariz, pero le hacía sentir seguro. Deseaba tanto sentir que podía dejar de pretender con alguien que comenzó a hablar antes de poder pensarlo mejor.
—Lo uso porque... mire, es un tema complicado, pero soy un tipo de chico diferente, ¿entiende? Eso me ayuda a ocultar algunas formas que mi cuerpo no debería tener...
Miyagi se quedó en silencio, esperando que continuara con su explicación, y cuando pasado un buen rato no lo hizo, volvió a insistir.
—Daniel-san, no ser tan viejo como para no entender...
Y aun así, a Daniel le pareció que realmente no entendía. ¿Quién podría hacerlo?
—Se equivocaron conmigo, ¿de acuerdo? Cuando nací, el mundo entero, incluso el universo, pensó que debería ser una mujer, pero fue un error. El cielo me dio este cuerpo frágil y estoy un poco atorado aquí. Pero yo sé que soy un hombre, y esta prenda...
Se levantó la playera, para mostrar el binder, pero también los moretones sobre su piel, dejando un patrón floreado y nauseabundo donde Johnny le había pateado.
—Me ayuda a que nadie se dé cuenta de este error, pero no soy una mujer, jamás he sido nada parecido a una.
Miyagi asintió lentamente, se llevó las manos a la barbilla en un gesto pensativo y meditó un momento. Daniel habría podido revelarse como una chica para detener el abuso físico; incluso ese grupo de salvajes aceptaría sin chistar que no podían golpearla y ese sería el final de su tortura. Pero no lo había hecho. No cuando le habían empujado por un acantilado, ni esa noche, cuando sabía que había llegado a tiempo para impedir una tragedia (y muy a su pesar, no sólo salvar a Daniel, sino impedir que esos chicos terminaran en la cárcel). Ni siquiera cuando su vida corría peligro se retractaba, y él respetaba eso, lo respetaba en serio.
—Si tú decir ser hombre, nadie poder negarlo...
Admitió finalmente, y al abrir los ojos, lo miró como si lo viera por primera vez, como si intentara encontrar alguna diferencia. Ahora tal vez podía forzarse a notar lo delgado de sus hombros, o una curva ligeramente más pronunciada en su cadera. Pero poco más, nada que no hubiera visto en otros cientos de chicos como él. Si confiaba en lo que veía, jamás hubiera dudado que Daniel era, en efecto, un muchacho normal, demasiado testarudo, orgulloso y flaco, pero perfectamente normal.
Daniel había estado jugando con su pie mientras el señor Miyagi pensaba. Ahora no había vuelta atrás, y el temor de haberse equivocado arañaba su estómago con cada bocanada de aire. Pero sus palabras, tan simples como eran, fueron las primeras de aceptación sincera que recibía en toda su vida. Si no le doliera cada músculo de su cuerpo, lo hubiera abrazado.
—No, nadie puede. —Con una sonrisa, ahora sí continuó su camino hacia la puerta—. Buenas noches, señor Miachi... Miyagi, Miyagi... ¿Mañana por la mañana?
—A las 10 en punto.
—Bien... Amm gracias por ayudarme con mis "amigos" esta noche.
Con cuidado, Daniel cerró la puerta y dejó solo al señor Miyagi.
The wind coming from the docks was cold tonight, Cub noted, as he made his way over to Willie's. It wouldn't matter, though, the club would be warm enough once he was inside. He was running a little late though, but it wouldn't matter. It was still early. Willie could handle things just fine.
The boardwalk was strange at this hour. The sun was rapidly setting, and the restaurants were just starting to open. A few early folk were around, but mostly it was quiet and empty. It wouldn't be in an hour or so, though.
One Eyed Willie's club was tucked away down a side alley and upstairs above a seafood restaurant that was also, technically, part of the club. Cub didn't work there, though. He was upstairs behind the bar, mixing the best cocktails this side of town. The restaurant was just there to keep all the straight people away from the leather bar above them.
-
Willie was waiting for him by the bar when Cub arrived, and he brought him into a tight hug that Cub was glad to reciprocate. God, he loved him. He hadn't been looking for any kind of relationship when he met Willie, given how happy he was with Scar, but a trans butch leather dyke who'd done spear fishing and pearl diving and sailed all over the world was not someone Cub could pass up conversation with.
-
"We expecting many tonight? Weather's not great out there right now," Cub said.
"We'll get the regulars just fine. Though if I could get you to do inventory before things get really busy, that'd be great. I need to do orders tomorrow and if we need any more drinks for the bar, now's the time to tell me, okay?" Willie said.
"Will do, will do," Cub said.
"Good boy." Willie smiled, and pulled at Cub's hips, drawing him close.
"Oh, feeling like that, are we? I see, I see how it is," Cub said.
Willie kissed him softly. "Well, you did say you were free this week."
"Yes, I did. Bring the trident. I miss her," Cub said.
"She misses you too. Don't worry, you won't be able to walk by the time I'm done with you." Willie kissed him once more, this time more teasingly, before he pulled away. "Alright, get to work, now. There'll be time to play later, alright?"
"Yes, boss!" Cub said, knowing what was coming once the night was over.
-
Sure enough, an hour later, the club was getting full. Cub had served so many drinks already, and seen a few of his friends, who always tried to get discounted drinks off him, a move which sometimes worked, depending on whether Cub felt he could get away with it or not. They were getting a few drinks in before heading over to drag bingo at Ren's, which Cub would have gone to as well if he hadn't been working. Ahh well. Next time.
-
"Oh, hey, there you are! Weren't you meant to be here an hour ago?" Cub said, seeing Scar scurrying behind the bar.
"Sorry, sorry, got stuck in traffic again, you know how it is this time of night! What needs doing?" Scar said, switching his jacket for an apron that was hung on a hook in a room just off from the bar.
"Drinks need doing. Go clear the tables, I haven't really had enough time to do that so far," Cub said.
"On it," Scar said and hurried off.
-
Cub didn't really stop until 1am. He'd like to open a bit later, but zoning laws, noise issues, it was all just not worth the hassle. And it always took an hour to clean up after everyone had gone, and finish up the banking.
"What do you even see in Willie anyway? I'd never have pegged you for him being your type," Scar said as he leaned on the bar, watching Cub finish up.
Cub shrugged. "I dunno, we just clicked, I guess. I mean, you like him too, right?"
"Oh, sure, sure! I wouldn't be here if I didn't. He just wasn't someone I expected you to get with, that's all. But don't worry, I'm not jealous! I just think it's fascinating, that's all," Scar said.
Cub smiled. "He's just... I dunno. He's really cool. And I think I just saw him for who he was, you know? Didn't make judgements, just let him be. The trident's also very good."
Scar laughed. "You masochist, you."
"That's me, yessir," Cub said.
"What have you done this time, hey?" Willie said, wrapping an arm around Cub's shoulders. "Nearly done? I'm dying to get out of here."
"Nearly done. Just need your signatures on the deposits and then we can stash these away and go," Cub said.
"Scar, you coming tonight? You know there's always an open invitation for you at mine if you ever want it. We're just gonna watch movies and crash, how does that sound?" Willie said.
"You know what? That sounds great, yeah! I could do with that after the rush tonight. Who knew Ren would just send everyone here after bingo!" Scar said with a laugh.
"I mean, he did give us a head's up about that, but we don't mind. It was good to see the club really packed. We'll get a few more regulars out of that I reckon. Anyway. I'm done with this, let's get out of here," Cub said.
There were no disagreements.
-
Willie had the biggest bed Cub had ever seen, and it was a good thing, because it meant he and Scar could snuggle up either side of him as they watched some trashy movie Willie had picked out to wind down the night. The kind of dumb action movie you didn't really need to pay attention to.
Was it what he and Willie initially planned for this evening? Not really. But did it matter? Not really. Cub was with his two favourite people. What more did he need in life than this?
🏳️🌈 Rock Hudson’s Parties, Chapter 3 (Jadore/Biadore) - Imafuckinglibra
Summary: A fresh faced young man gets off a bus in New York to move in with an estranged college friend, now a broadway star. Old flames flare up again but are potentially derailed when an older man’s temptations threaten to come between them.
Fair Warning : Nothing! This chapter is just a good time and we’re all happy and enjoying some uh…bonding time…hehe
“Who knew a C-list celebrity would have to go out THIS much,” Danny fussed into his cocktail the following Wednesday night. “Why, I’m missing I’ve Got a Secret.”
He put his glass down, examined the area around him and realized that yet again, nobody at the table had been paying attention to him.
He felt the corners of his mouth twisting into a pout, but he knew if he let it show he’d just be giving in to those same feelings of inadequacy he did in Azusa.
‘You’re better now,’ he reminded himself.
“I say, doll…” He tried running his fingers along Jinx's knuckles, earning a dismissive wave of her manicured hand with the cigarette between her fingers. His tone rose in frustration as he tried her again, “I SAID, Jinkx, I’m missing this week’s I’ve Got a Secret! And I heard a rumor Lana Turner is gonna be on this week to talk about her daught-“
His whining got halted by an eruption of raucous laughter from the table of cronies who’d just been ignoring him. Making snide remarks under their drunken giggles about the sort of people who follow those fanatic magazines full of false stories.
“Stop being such a girl about it,” she said, poking a sore spot. “Go fetch me another drink and I’ll make up for whatever little show you’re missing later. Deal?” she purred into his ear, giving him a peck on the cheek.
He groaned under his breath, unamused by the gaggle of girls swooning over Jinkx yet again, but he decided to swallow his pride.
He stood up with a heavy sigh and put-upon smile, giving her hand a small kiss to feign forgiveness. “Why of course, dear. Right away.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Roy and Raja clucked in unison as he approached them by the bar, the pair like a flock of hungry vultures watching the group by the table. The only hungry vultures, it seemed, who bothered entertaining him these days, as Jinkx’s debut as Essie Whimple drew closer.
The same vultures he’d avoided like the plague before, but he’d finally settled in, finally stopped staring into the mirror trying to find what was wrong with him - mostly. He still felt a certain sense of unease around Roy specifically but he seemingly couldn’t care less anymore about, well, you know. Their little misunderstanding.
“I say, well handled, son,” Roy mocked. Placing a proud hand on his shoulder, his other hand clutching his dark maroon tie as if he was Jim Anderson himself. “A happy wife is a happy life, right, my boy?”
“Get bent.” Danny tried acting serious, paying no mind to Roy cackling loudly at his own joke.
“Forget Bozo here, I’ll get that drink for you while I’m back here.” Raja, who was most definitely breaking at least 3 work place rules, took Jinkx’s empty wine glass and refilled it.
“You staying a while? I heard some serious scoop on tonight’s episode of I've Got a Secret.” Roy leaned over the bar where the three of them could gossip.
“No!” Danny gasped, following suit, taking the already poured red wine originally intended for Jinkx as his own. “Is it Lana Turner?”
“What? No. It’s Walter Slezak, and I heard…Lana T-“ he interrupted himself to sneer at Danny in bewilderment. “Lana Turner? Who gave you that idea?”
Danny flashed a scowl at Raja, who was casually whistling in the opposite direction to avoid eye contact before Roy’s words sank in.
“Walter Slezak!” Raja and Danny’s eyes went wide in unison.
Raja enthusiastically slapped Danny’s hand like a giddy secretary with some juicy story about the boss. “Boy, he’s amazing. Did you catch him in Born to Kill?”
“Wasn’t he great?”
“To die for,” she swooned. “Did you see him in Lifeboat? Gave me chills for weeks - oof.” She shuddered, an imaginary shiver running down her spine.
“Like this?” Roy teased, sliding an ice cube down the exposed back of her signature gold fitted dress.
“Fucking - piece of shit!” she hissed at him, trying to keep her voice down. Luckily the rest of the bar was too lively with music, Danny the only one close enough to actually hear her shrieks. She turned to him, growling, “If you laugh, so help me!”
“I didn’t -“ Danny tried defending himself with his hands raised, but his loud belly laughing got the better of him. Raja playfully threw the ice cube in his direction, not helping curb his amusement, making her break face too.
“Raja! There’s people waiting by the door, go take their coats!” Kameron, one of the busgirls, whistled in their direction when she passed with a tray of empty plates from the dining hall.
“Ugh.” Raja dropped her cheery disposition, slugging the last of her Chardonnay. “Coming!”
She waved another finger in their direction as a threat, muttering some more, presumably obscenities, in a language Danny couldn’t recognize, and sauntered off to go greet the newest clientele for the evening. Leaving our little protagonist and his friend at the bar alone.
This wasn’t a rare occurrence though. In fact, it had become his favorite part of the day, ever since Roy agreed to keep his little secret. Some days, he’d satisfy himself just being there to watch Roy mingle with folks. Even when he was doing his own mingling with the Broadway elites (and elite followers) by Jinkx’s side. Playing her little show poodle when she required a domestic air for an interview or meeting.
They’d always at least manage to catch each other's eye and give a sympathetic smile.
“Gosh,” he sighed, content, noticing a hint of Roy’s dimples as he greeted a regular customer waving from another table.
He really was so devastatingly beautiful. It was hard not to see him as the picture-perfect man, with his devil-may-care attitude and utterly fashionable taste in clothes. The catalyst for their friendly banter was that Roy would always fill him in on that night’s episodes he missed, or behind the scenes tidbits he’d heard from industry friends.
It started that very night last week, at the table while they waited for everyone to return. Roy made a joke about Danny’s hands being smaller than Katherine Hepburn’s in an attempt to lighten the mood. Clearly, he wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of questions regarding the movie star, nor the ungodly amount of fan trivia he seemed to know about her and her fellow celebrities.
Their conversation and gossiping lasted well into the night once Jinkx’s new director left, even after they made their way over to a group of club singers so Jinkx could catch up with her former coworkers.
“Beg pardon?” Roy turned around, hearing the little escaped whisper.
“Nothing,” he smiled, innocence dripping from every pore.
“Yeah riiiiight…” Roy dragged out, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re not playing with a full deck, are you?”
“Oh yeah?” Danny huffed, “well uh…”
‘Dammit!’ He tried to remember any, literally any single reasonable response to his but his impulse for childish comebacks got the better of him.
“I think somebody blew your pilot light out, Haylock.” He crossed his arms and dropped himself against the bar. Unknowingly sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.
“They did what?” Roy slapped the table. He burst out into a loud laughing fit with his hand on his chest. “My -“
“You’ve got splinters in the windmill of your mind!” Danny reiterated, his confidence growing every time Roy’s laugh would pick up again.
“I’m too drunk for this shit,” Roy exhaled, trying to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye.
“Well then,” Danny reached over for a new glass under the counter. “Fill her up, let’s even it out.”
“Ooooh,” Roy pursed his lips, tutting and shaking his head. “That’s not such a good idea there, partner.”
“Oh yeah? Why not? Scared I can out-drink you?”
Danny felt brave, irresponsibly brave. Like just maybe he might be able to actually turn his night around, maybe even finally see the always-put-together Roy properly hammered. No pun intended, of course.
Sure, he’d probably be late for work again in the morning, but he could always find a special way to make up for that.
Or better yet, maybe he’d have to spend the whole day ‘recovering’ with Roy. Just the two of them…
‘What am I thinking?’ he panicked when he realized what he was fantasizing about.
“Hello?” Roy tapped his index finger on Danny’s forehead. “Knock knock, your drink’s ready.”
“Right.” Danny practically inhaled the scotch Roy had given him. It burned all the way down to his stomach.
“Fucking hell -“ Roy started but another small chuckle interrupted his words. “Now who’s the one playing hockey with a warped puck?”
“What does that one even mean?” Danny giggled, already feeling his bravery being replaced by downright giddiness.
“It means, clean your own damn house before you come clean mine.” Roy stood serious. His hands against the bar as if he was waiting for Danny to come back with another retort.
“Huh?”
Roy leaned in closer whispering, “it means you’re lucky you’re cute because you definitely ain’t smart.”
Danny’s heart shot straight up to his throat. Unsure how to process or what to say when all he could feel was his head going dizzy and his cheeks growing warm.
He even debated another snippy comeback when suddenly, a lightbulb went off above Roy’s head.
“Say! Lady Bunny just got a television set in her office, I could sneak you in to go watch the episode-”
Without missing a beat, Danny sprang up, ready to bolt towards the back room, only stopped by his mother’s voice in his head.
‘You need to stop getting so worked up about everything, people will think you’re some mental deficit!’
He covered his open mouth with a cough and pretended to straighten his pants.
“Well?” Roy slammed his drink down and slapped him on the flat of his back, asking, “Do you need a pistol shot or something? Go! Hurry!”
‘To hell with her,’ he stood up for himself.
And just like that, they were off, scurrying to the back office without a second thought about Jinkx, her drink, or the laughing lackeys still keeping her attention.
“Wait…No...” Roy tilted his head in confusion when a loud moan echoed from behind the big red door, just as he was about to turn the handle. “Is that…?”
“It can’t be…” Danny failed to hide a giggle. “It actually worked.”
Roy scrunched his forehead, concentrating with his ear to the door. Confirming it with a placid, “Courtney.”
“Well yeah, and Dan.”
“Who the -'' Roy realized how loud they were speaking, changing his tone to an aggressive whisper, “Who the fuck is Dan?”
“Dan P. Donigan! My boss!” he declared, lowering his own voice too.
“Why’s your boss banging my Courtney?” Roy asked, clearly somewhat amused by this revelation
“I needed to make up for the days I missed!”
“What?” Roy tilted his head.
“I had to make up for the day I missed with you, and…some others,” he mumbled, “and when I let it slip to Courtney she said she could soften him up for me before I apologized,” Danny clarified as if this was a reasonable answer.
“Which I’m assuming was tonight?”
Suddenly Danny felt like he was being interrogated by a school principal. “Yes, sir…”
“Hey!” Roy prodded a finger into his chest, making him wince, his teeth snared. “Stop pimping out MY slut to your coworkers!”
“I’m not! I’m pimping out MY coworkers to your slut!” He watched Roy’s expression intently. Trying to piece together what was happening in his mind as his brows stayed contorted in anger but his lips softened into a stifled grin.
“You two, heaven help me.” Roy gave in, rubbing his eyes. Gesturing with his head and a pat on Danny’s back towards the bar. “C'mon, I’ll make you a drink.”
Before they could reach the bar, Raja grabbed his attention while Roy rushed to make up for the orders he missed.
“What? What’d I do?” Danny stumbled a bit thanks to how hard she yanked on his sleeve.
“Nothin’, Jinkxy just left. She said sorry she missed you but she’s going to an after party with those little devils that follow her,” Raja casually said while gesturing with her fingers towards the bar.
“Oh...” Danny blinked. His eyes trailed across the lounge part of the bar, examining every spot he usually found Jinkx in, but she really had left without him.
“Thank you, baby.” Raja’s voice interrupted his focused scanning. The familiar clink of the glasses on the serving tray telling him he’d been zoned out at least long enough for Raja to reach Roy, place the drink order and Roy to make it.
“If anyone complains, tell them it took so long because we wanted to get a fresh bottle for them or some shit.”
“Guess I’m not invited.” Danny dropped onto one of the barstools, feeling suddenly like he did in middle school when he’d get picked last in gym class.
He gazed longingly at the door like a lost puppy waiting for its owner to return to the shelter, his mood dropping nearly as low as his slumped shoulders.
“You didn’t want to go anyway,” Roy reminded him, rolling his eyes, wiping down the bar.
He was right. But Danny was much too proud to admit it, obviously.
“I suppose…”
Dammit.
Roy, despite his best attempt at a hard exterior, did that thing again where he’d soften his approach whenever Danny grew wistful.
“Forget it. I’ll make you something on the house. What’s your poison tonight?”
“You hopefully,” slipped from Danny’s mouth before his brain had time to filter it.
“What?”
“What?” He quickly coughed, trying to save what he could from the situation as if his throat was too dry to finish the sentence. Gesturing feebly to his collar. “What…ever, you can make the fastest.”
He spun around on his barstool slowly, trying to remain casual as he made eye contact with Roy, assuming he’d turn back to the bar.
Instead, he had once again caught him in a staring contest, his eyes narrowed. Clearly not buying whatever bullshit Danny was trying to sell him.
‘God, his eyes are beautiful…’ he thought absentmindedly.
Lost in the deep browns of his eyes he tried his best to fight against swooning, wondering if he’d pick up on it. But how could he not see it?
Roy was so focused on watching him, Danny began to feel like the last piece of turkey on Thanksgiving dinner. Surely he knew what he was doing, surely he wanted—
“That your boss?” Roy nodded his head, snapping Danny back to reality. His face was pulled in an odd confusion, as if he was trying to figure out what Courtney saw in him.
“Where?” Danny swung the stool in the direction of Bunny’s office.
“He’s smiling pretty big; if I was a betting man, I’d say you’re off the hook,” Roy started but Danny was still trying to find Dan in the wrong direction. He grabbed his head and turned him towards the entrance. “Over there you idiot!”
“Wait, is he really smiling?” he perked up, finally the right way. Just in time to catch Courtney kiss Dan goodbye before he smugly plopped his hat on his head and swagger out with all the overconfidence of a cat who just ate the canary, the cage and the goldfish for good measure.
“Atta girl, Court!” he cheered, after Dan finally walked out.
“Yep…at-ta girl.” Roy sarcastically clapped in her direction.
“Details, all the details!” he exclaimed, waving her over.
“Yeah, come here, my little Court-esan.” Roy curled his index finger inwards, beckoning to her as if she was a rotten child walking towards a spanking. “Come tell me what you did this time.”
Although he acted pretty peeved, Danny could tell Roy didn’t mean it. In all his time there, and in all the different ways he’d heard or seen Courtney getting screwed, never once had Roy made a mean remark about it.
In fact, he’d never seen him make any harsh (untrue) comments towards her like he often did with others. Calling a performer’s voice one night a dead ringer for ‘What can only be described as how syphilis sores feels.’
No, the two of them must’ve been old friends. It was obvious, not just by their banter and affectionate little pets but the way Roy seemed so protective over her. Like an older brother or even a father figure would be.
He also came to the conclusion that of the three of them, SHE might’ve been the best read. It was almost impressive how she floated about between lovers and managed to carry on the most interesting conversations known to man in one breath. Only stopping to powder her nose between the two.
For all their teasing, he had to give it to her. She wasn’t a slut, she was just built that way. Good for her.
“Bunny’s gonna’ kill you, you know!” Roy put his hands on his hips.
“Why?” Courtney, who had hopped up to sit on the bar, asked.
“Do you want a list?” Roy scoffed. “Where should we start? You were late for - stop it.” He swatted at one of her legs when she tried to wiggle her foot against his rib cage.
“Can’t we just-“
“No,” Roy shut her down.
“Fine-uh,” Courtney whined. She pulled her leg back from poking him and hooked it over her other one, making her dress lift just enough Danny swore he could see a run in her stockings. Almost as if someone’s fingernails grabbed at them.
Danny tugged at his tight collar. The temperature in the room must’ve raised a solid 20 degrees as the likelihood of said fingernails belonging to his uptight, no-nonsense boss dawned on him.
He originally assumed by “buttering him up,” Courtney meant maybe a little extra flirting, maybe even a kiss or some heavy petting if she was feeling extra generous.
And the office rendezvous caught him off guard, sure, but ripped tights and what looked like a hickey below her earlobe? Absolutely above and beyond service.
‘I should get her a thank you present…I wonder if she likes chocolate?’ Danny considered. Inadvertently staring at her as he tried to remember the heart shaped boxes of chocolates he passed in a window not long ago.
“Take a picture, love.” Courtney smiled sweetly, hiking her skirt up just enough that he could admire her thighs in all their glory.
“Oh! I wasn’t…I didn’t mean…I…” Danny stuttered, looking at Roy first for help before he regained his train of thought. “Sure, if you insist.”
“See what you’ve done? Hasn’t he had a hard enough night?” Roy finally took the attention off of him.
“Oh come off it,” Courtney gave a little titter. “He’s a nice big boy, he can tell me when he’s had enough.” She patted his shoulder. “So, you want a picture, huh?”
“Well…” Danny realized it was finally his turn to speak but no words came out. Courtney’s hand slid down, curving over his collarbone before going back up.
“Down, beast!” Roy scolded, cracking the dishcloth he had nearby against her forearm. “Stop stalling and tell me about this…” he impatiently snapped his fingers.
“Dan,” they both answered.
“Dan, right. What do we know about this guy?”
“Well, he’s 6’2”, maybe 6’4”. Works at Danny’s bank, obviously, and I think about…” Courtney pursed her lips, holding her palms facing each other out in front of her, “about this-“
“That’ll do,” Roy picked up on what she was doing.
“About uh…” She found a length she liked. “This long I reckon.”
“Ugh, I said that’ll do, Court!” Roy’s voice raised in frustration. Finally getting her attention. “Can we not have one night in this joint without you discussing your excursions?”
Danny decided this wasn’t his battle to fight so he kept his distance, hiding his muffled giggling behind his hand so the bickering pair wouldn’t catch on.
“It’s impolite to write personal things down about other people.” She put her hands on her hips, “So if I didn’t tell you, I’d forget their pros and cons, and I can’t make that mistake again, can I?”
“This is why I don’t take you to industry parties with me,” Roy facepalmed, rubbing his tired eyes with his thumb and index finger.
“No, you don’t take me because-“
“That’s 5.5 inches,” Danny declared with a satisfied nod. Sure in his math until he noticed the pair had stopped bickering and were looking at him in complete confusion.
“How - what?” Roy tried hiding his laughter. “Is this what you went to college for?”
“No, let him finish, this could be useful,” Courtney said in all seriousness, raising her brows in Roy’s direction, but he shook his head at her.
“Those types of acts stopped showing publicly in the carny days, before even vaudeville thank you very much.”
“You’d know, you were there,” Danny mumbled under his breath, upset that Roy didn’t find his accurate measuring impressive.
“Oh I’m sorry, are we feeling a little testy again, Mister ‘I cried when the man stopped drawing the deer in Bambi’?” teased Roy.
“I don’t know, do we think we’re funny, Mister ‘I got rejected to be the 6th Marx brother’?” Danny challenged. Refusing to let Roy win this round.
“Boys, boys, boys,” Courtney chimed between them, her tone more exasperated this time, rolling her eyes. “Just whip them out already and get a ruler…or a room.” She tilted her head towards the back of the club with a smirk. “Or an office.”
“Nobody asked you.” Roy shot her a warning look, the same expression he normally gave right before he’d yell at one of the servers for screwing up. “Just get back to work, please.”
“Oh I don’t mind,” she turned to Danny with her hand on her chest. “If you guys want to, you know… “ she clicked her tongue in the back room’s direction.
“Okay, that’s enough!” Roy shouted, pushing her off the bar top while she wasn’t looking. “Thanks for dropping in, get to steppin’, buh bye.”
Danny didn’t know whether to laugh at her falling or the way Roy was waving his towel as he continued arguing with her about fixing her make up before her next set.
“Fine! How ‘bout next time I just put a box over my head and you can draw some lipstick on it!” Courtney yelled over her shoulder. She tried to get the last word in as she made her way to the tiny dressing room hidden behind the stage.
“It would be an improvement!” Roy yelled back. “What the-“
Danny flicked one of the peanuts that had fallen out the bowl in front of him, hitting Roy square on the chin.
“Oh you son of a bitch!” Roy exclaimed when a second one hit his cheek. “Just for that, you’re buying me a drink.”
“Worth it,” Danny grinned. He swiveled around on his stool, victorious for once, watching Roy dig around in the bottles beneath them.
“Actually, you know what I’d kill for right now? I worked on a picture with Guy Madison last year and he gave me this really terrific bottle of bourbon,” he began as he poured them each a glass of scotch. “If you ever actually come see my place, you should have a drink.”
“See your place?” Danny swallowed.
‘Oh god what does he mean? What’s he implying?’ He started panicking. ‘We agreed it was all a misunderstanding but does he…does he actually want me now? Is this a real invitation?’
His mind was spiraling, and Roy taking his sweet time to pour each glass wasn’t helping matters. Danny wondered if he should shoot down the offer right there, but before he could make up his mind, Roy finally slid the glass his way.
“I mean, if you guys want to come over for dinner or something.”
‘Oh, of course he wasn’t talking about…me,’ Danny realized. He could feel his shoulders slump forward again in an oddly disappointed way. He couldn’t show it however, not there in front of Roy.
“Dinner?” Danny frowned, hiding his true feelings. “You can cook?”
Roy took a sip from his drink. “Of course I can cook, what do you mean?”
“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna give us? Indigestion?”
“Fine,” Roy conceded, smacking his lips. “Or you can come by for tailoring. We really need to get you out of those shitty little Hooverville suits.” He curled his top lip, looking him over. “I’d say no offense but they really do look hideous.”
“Heeeey,” Danny whined, clutching his lapels as if they could hear the insult. “These are catalog.”
Roy stood taller and pinched a piece of his pants to show Danny the seams. “And this is custom-made by the same guy who tailors costumes for Rosalind Russell, you see my point?”
“Rosalind…Russell?” Danny’s eyes went wide, reaching for the bit he was holding to feel the texture of the higher quality fabric.
When his hand touched Roy’s thigh he swore he could feel his breath hitch, followed by Roy’s eyes panning down, presumably also aware of how intimate the moment had unwittingly become.
‘Shit.’ He realized he had gotten a tad too close for comfort and pulled back.
He sat down innocently as if nothing had happened, like when you get pulled over for driving over the limit and brace yourself to compliment your way out of it. “Boy, you know you’re everything I want to be when I’m 57.”
“Why I oughta-“ Roy gasped. Pulling his best Joan Crawford impression, he leaned down close to him. “Look, so help me, I’m gonna slug you.”
“There's a name for you ladies, but it isn't used in high society...outside of a kennel,” he retorted, proud of himself for not only remembering the line from The Women but also for making Roy’s dimples deepen when he said it.
“Try me,” Roy challenged, shooting Danny with a peanut right between the eyes.
“Ow! Danny furiously tried to rub the sore spot better on his forehead. “Hey-uh! That was a dirty trick!” he whined.
He must have looked absolutely pathetic, as Roy’s face flashed all the way from pity straight into hysterics.
“Oh, you poor little simple thing, don’t ever change.” Roy grasped his shoulder, his laughs turning higher pitched than Danny had heard before. He wiped at his eye with the back of his hand. “God, I’d be bored without you here.”
“What?” Danny perked up, unsure if he heard that right.
“I said,” Roy’s laughter started calming down. “Oh nevermind. Forget it. I need a piss.”
Many hours and many, many drinks later, Danny figured he had enough liquid courage in him to finally go see Roy’s apartment. Platonically, of course.
“I’m heading home soon, I was wondering if you’d like a stroll?” he asked Roy at the end of the night, when the last tipsy crowd began to trickle out.
“Sure, yeah. I’d love to, but I gotta go take inventory and lock up some stuff. Would you mind helping out?” Roy barely even looked up from writing down some numbers of reservations for the next night. As if the revelation of Danny’s intentions hadn’t hit him yet. Not that he had any intentions. Maybe.
“Counting? Please, it's my job.”
Finally, Roy lifted his head, dropping an elbow on the counter, resting his head in his hand as he looked on in astonishment. “I always forget that, I’m amazed when you bring it up.”
“What? My job?” Danny blushed. His parents had told him a job at a bank would be respectable, but he didn’t see it, until now maybe.
“No.” Roy laughed suddenly, dropping the act just as quick and standing up straight. “That you can count.”
‘This piece of work.’ Danny thought. He was caught off guard by his mockery but didn’t want to give Roy the satisfaction of knowing that.
“Bang zoom, Haylock! You’re going to the moon!” he mimicked Ralph Kramden, hoping the little reference would earn at least a chuckle from the equally fanatical Roy.
“Good one,” he praised, looking up at the fist Danny still held in his face. He gave it a playful tap with his pen, his own little version of a gold star.
‘Success.’
Thanks to that little pick-me-up, the inventory they had to do went by, as Roy noted, faster than usual, both men forgetting about the time as they waved off the last of the wait staff and performers.
“All I’m saying is, knowing her, it was a stunt.” Roy threw his hands up, his pen nearly hitting a passing waitress.
“Knowing her,” Danny blew a raspberry. “I know you think your shit don’t stink, but there’s no way you know Joan Crawford.”
“I didn’t say I know her personally,” Roy defended.
Danny, annoyed at Roy for missing the point, batted his eyelashes at him before trying again. “Fine. You know what the tabloids say about her, that’s my point! I think at the ‘46 Academy Awards, she and everyone there knew there was no way she would lose.”
“But then why wasn’t she there?” Roy slammed his fist on the table, clearly fed up with how long this conversation had gone on.
Danny however, was not prepared to give in just yet, enjoying their little argument and seeing Roy get so flustered far too much.
“Because she’s a deeply paranoid and emotional person, who doesn’t want to show her weak side because that way people can’t use it against her the way she uses their weaknesses against them!” he finally exhaled.
“Oh brother,” Roy rolled his eyes. “So she’s just a bitch, is your excuse?”
“Pot meet kettle.” Danny waved his hands in Roy’s direction, making his dimples deepen in that tell-tale ‘you got me’ grin he’d grown so fond of.
“Fine,“ Roy conceded, taking another sip from his now lukewarm drink. “Ugh, this is worse than your fashion sense,” he pulled a face, scooting the drink away. “But for the record, I do know Joan Crawford, semi-personally, and she would pull a stunt like that.”
“You’re such a fucking liar,” Danny spat like an annoyed teenager. “I bet you’re just making that up again so -“
“Boys!” Courtney tottered into the storage room where they’d been counting bottles. Clearly one too many deep herself. “Have one of you still not pinned the other against the milk crates?”
“Shut up, Courtney!” they both shouted in unison, Danny not even registering what she was saying thanks to his own impeded thinking.
“Danny, my love.” She threw an arm over his shoulder, pulling him in close to not-so-subtly whisper in his ear. “Make him show you how…you know, express what he's got.”
“Shut up, Courtney,” Roy repeated.
“Make me.” She licked her lip, lunging forward to grab both of them in a big bear hug. “Actually don’t, I’m on my way out with Morgan and Kameron.”
“Yuck.” Danny scoffed under his breath, trying to pretend it didn’t turn him on just a little bit…a lotta bit…
“Crushed between all those muscles…Roy,” she turned to him, cooing, “If tonight is the night I finally go, write that I died happy on my tombstone.”
“Write it yourself!” Roy pushed her away with his elbow. “And quit distracting us. I want to go home and this idiot can barely count to 12 without getting lost.”
“Hey!”
“Listen, you little shit, you’ve been counting the same stack of tequila for 14 minutes and you still haven’t gotten past the 2nd shelf.”
“Oh?” Danny looked at the shelves. Realizing that Roy had been right, he sheepishly smiled at him with a pathetic, “Oops?”
Courtney tutted, shaking her blonde hair over her shoulders. “I guess you’ll have to teach him a lesson. I recommend a good wallop across the bum.”
“I recommend a cup of coffee and a cold shower.” Roy crossed his arms at her like a disappointed father.
“And why would I listen to you?” she challenged, mirroring his stance even down to the way his left brow was raised.
“Because sometimes, SOMETIMES, only once in a blue moon…I’m wrong. I can’t be wrong twice in one night, can I?”
“Is this your way of apologizing for being an ass?” Courtney asked, throwing her hands around his neck for a hug.
“Maybe,” Roy hugged her back, pulling her tightly into his arms till she stood on her tippy toes. “Do you forgive me?”
“Only if you buy me a big box of chocolates.”
‘Definitely likes chocolates,’ Danny noted to himself.
“Deal. Now go with your little toys,” Roy let her go, “and when you’re done, drink lots of water. Love you, be safe.”
The pair exchanged quick air kisses. Danny couldn’t help himself but smile at how lovingly Roy doted over her, making sure she listened to him before he shoved her away into the waiting arms of Kameron.
“You know,” Danny sat down in his makeshift seat, lighting them cigarettes. “You two would make a cute couple if you weren’t,” he swallowed, “you know...”
“Gee thanks.” Roy took his cigarette from him, shoving his seat away so he could count the tequila instead.
“Hey, what did Courtney mean-“ Danny tried asking about Courtney’s earlier statement about the office but Roy shushed him.
“10, 12, 14…” Roy kept counting under his breath. His brows tightly furrowed, concentrating on every label. “16, 18…19?” He curled his top lip at the tequila bottles.
“20.” Danny held up the bottle Roy had poured himself a drink out of when they started counting bottles.
“Knew I kept you around for a reason,” Roy let out a relieved sigh. “20. Beautiful, done.”
Roy put the bottle back carefully onto the shelf, wrote down the number on his clipboard and hooked his pen over the sheet of paper. Finally! Their cue to hit the road.
Danny’s stomach was in knots, boozy butterflies floating about at the anticipation of more intimate alone time. The thought made him nauseous with doubt but it was too enticing to pass up, just like those enormous Ferris wheels his parents took him to when he was a little boy.
Every time he’d question his decision, he’d look to his left towards Roy for some new motivation, reminding himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Just walking side by side as they’d done many a night, simply without Jinkx in the middle this time, and if he had to be honest it felt freeing.
Liberating even.
“Well then, who do you think should’ve won?” Roy asked, turning the corner to their block.
“Seriously? Such an easy answer,” Danny raised his shoulders in exasperation. It seemed like every time they reached the Best Actress category in their little debates Roy would scoff at his answers just to get a rise out of him, even some of the ones he, sometimes reluctantly, agreed with. “Judy Garland, obviously.”
Roy scrunched up his nose as if he was thinking over Danny’s answer before he sighed, “I don’t know-“
“Oh brother, what do you have against Judy mother-fucking Garland?” Danny interrupted him, using the same phrase Roy had used for Deborah Kerr earlier against himself.
“Grace - you asshole.” Roy fumbled over his words, hiding a proud chuckle. “Grace Kelly deserved it, I think they voted for the right bitch.“
“Well I think you’re wrong,” Danny huffed. “And I think if Courtney was here she’d agree with me.”
“Is that so?”
“And she’d call you a dickhead!” He tried his best to imitate her Australian accent but just couldn’t quite get it right, causing him to laugh at his own joke.
“Well, well,” Roy swayed towards him, bumping their shoulders together. “Careful, someone might say the club is rubbing off on you.”
He was right, obviously. Even Danny could feel the shift in his personality since he moved to New York just a few weeks earlier. Specifically since he started hanging out at the club with Roy and the others.
“Would that be so bad?” he asked out loud, more to himself than anyone else truth be told.
“It would make you right more often.”
“I am right. Judy should’ve won.”
“As much as I would like to agree with you, I can't. Why do you think she should’ve won, huh? Because she’s been around so long? Because she…” Roy gestured with over the top quotation marks, “‘overcame’ her struggles to make a good goddamn movie? Because it was an absolutely terrific movie, don't get me wrong, she damn near made me shed a tear.”
“Well…then why don’t you think she should’ve won?” Danny came to a standstill, confused by Roy’s argument.
“Think about it.” Roy stopped walking as well, stepping back a few steps to be equal with Danny again. “Those are all amazing qualities, but you can’t just up and say ‘I did my best so I deserve the thing I want’, you have to be able to show people you’re in it for the long run, Judy isn’t that girl anymore but Grace Kelly is.”
“But she did show up!” Danny tried reasoning back. “Maybe not the way you wanted her too but she tried.”
“That’s show business for you,” Roy shrugged.
“James Mason didn’t win either, which is complete bullshit,” Danny scoffed, resuming his walking.
“That I can agree with.”
“So…thanks for letting me hang around all night, you sure I wasn’t a bother?” Danny finally asked when they reached Roy’s apartment door. Just before they began to discuss that year’s winners.
Before he answered, Roy took the time to dig in his thick black coat’s pocket and pull out a couple of cigarettes, lighting one for each of them between his teeth. A little habit Danny had grown quite fond of him doing when he didn’t think people would notice.
“You know, I actually had a good time. I really appreciated the help, thanks.”
“You’re very welcome, I’d do it again any- any time really.” He stumbled over his words a bit. Roy’s lips were too distracting as he took a big drag of his cigarette.
“With the amount of scotch you had, I probably don’t have to ask if you had a good time?” Roy teased, his lips twisting into a faint smile.
Danny couldn’t help but blush, especially since Roy covered most of the drinks he ended up having. An act of kindness he appreciated; his wallet was looking a little too thin as it was tonight, with Jinkx skipping out before the tab could be paid.
“I wish I could repay at least one or two,” he began. Feeling around in his pockets for any change he might have left.
“Yeah, I bet you do.” Roy looked up at him, halting his movements with a firm pat on the shoulder. Another habit Danny liked. At this point he started an imaginary list.
Danny could still feel his heart racing at the contact, even one so innocent. He wondered what Roy was thinking while they looked at each other, his face illuminated only by the soft glow of the street lamps scattered about .
“You know-“ Roy inhaled, raising his hand to hold Danny’s cheek tenderly, lost in thought.
“Hm?” Visions of them together began swirling in his mind. Glorious visions. And then -
“Nothin’. You had some lint. Go back to your doll face, she’ll want you home when she gets in,” Roy slurred slightly. A lazy smile on his face as if the night was growing long, but he didn’t want it to end yet. “It’s getting late.”
“Oh,” he breathed. Saying he felt let down was the understatement of the year. He didn’t want to fight the issue though, hell he didn’t even know how.
What could he say that wouldn’t ruin any progress they’d made as friends, or come out sounding just plain foolish? So he accepted his refusal and turned around to walk away back to his apartment.
‘C’mon, be a man!’ he scolded himself. Turning on his heels when he’d taken no more than 5 steps to face Roy with new self-assuredness.
“You don’t want to invite me in for that bourbon?” he asked, raising his shoulders, the ash he’d forgotten about from his cigarette falling onto his shoes.
“I don’t think you need another drink tonight, do you?”
“Um, I….” Danny struggled to decide. So much for that confidence he had built up.
“Exactly. So it’s probably better if I don’t and we call it a night.” Roy flashed that devilishly delicious smile.
That smile that made his knees weak and his stomach do somersaults, even if his words made his heart drop nearly out of his body.
“Right…but -” He wanted to protest and demand a reason, feeling his blood boil like when your high school crush rejects you.
“It’s nothing you - you hear that, right? Her stomping? God she’s loud.” Roy turned around to gesture to the source.
Danny recognized Courtney almost immediately, her usual little skip run in those tiny dresses she wore nearly as recognizable as her accent.
“I lost my keys!” she laughed, running a little faster towards them. “And Dela’s out with her new boyfriend. Who, by the way, did I tell you his mustache is ah-mazing.”
“Where’s your dates?” Roy shrugged off her rambling.
“Ugh, don’t get me started. Kameron got cold feet and Morgan, well, let’s just say some Scots don’t hold their liquor as well as advertised.” She blinked as if she was trying to get rid of some unpleasant memories. “I got them a taxi, they're fine.”
“Seriously,” Roy pointed to her heels when she finally reached him, already holding the apartment building’s door open for her. “Walk like a man, why don’t yah?”
“Fuck me like one,” Courtney retorted with a tease in her voice, tousling Danny’s hair, saying, “You can even bring him.”
Danny’s eyes flicked back and forth between the pair, unsure what to think. Or even what to say. Hell, even unsure if she was being serious or not. All he could see was red.
“He’s not interested.” Roy’s focus switched to Danny. His expression was unreadable, as if he didn't even know what he was thinking. “Right?”
Danny swallowed, muttering, “…right.”
“Goodnight, Danny,” Courtney sang, walking past Roy into his apartment building. Throwing a last little finger wave his way before taking the edge of Roy’s collar in her hand and tugging.
“Coming, dollface,” Roy smirked, following her lead.
He stood dumbfounded. Baffled by this turn of events. The ONE time he’d made the first move and THIS is what he got for it?
“Why that…that….” he huffed, unable to process rational thoughts he took a puff from his cigarette before throwing it on the ground. Storming off in the direction of his apartment with heavy, angry stomps. “That slut! Jezebel! That absolute…TRAMP!”
@missrefridgefreetorator this got too long for replies so I'm making it a text post -- I've often said I'm gonna write an AU of pretty in pink where Duckie is a baby butch who's pining hard for her best friend, Andy, who's chubby and awkward and has great fashion sense but is generally confused about who she is as a person & her sexuality & everything. Suddenly this cute boy is coming onto her and taking her out, though, and she thinks maybe she's gonna get to live the dream and be typically pretty with a hot bf. And then he ghosts her so hard and she's crying over it, and iona, who's a cool ass older queer woman who changes her styles to suit her moods but never her dates, tells her that what she was looking for was actually a really toxic fantasy. And that andy has everything she needs within herself. She doesn't need to get skinny or dress a certain way to deserve love. And fuck it, she should go to the prom!!
And Andy goes and makes a really cool dress at the last minute and calls Duckie, who in spite of her pining has been really supportive throughout all of this, and asks if they could go to prom together. And Duckie says yes, and when she sees Andy you can see her heart popping out of her chest like FUCK I'M SO IN LOVE. And Andy looks at her and does a double take bc she's never realized anyone could look at her like that, and also umm Duckie looks pretty good too??
And the shitty rich boy is there and tries to make amends with Andy, but she looks over her shoulder at Duckie and says thanks but no thanks and then Andy's taking Duckie's face in her hands and telling her she's pretty amazing and Duckie being like, "do you maybe wanna kiss someone who's pretty amazing, or?" And the music swells over their kiss and the entire theater full of gays fucking cries into their popcorn bc this is the movie we deserve!!!
Andy is still working class!! She and Duckie are weirdos in this town where they feel like nothing will ever change!!!
I'm very passionate about it, but my follow thru is shit so I've never done more than write a scene once and yell about the idea in text posts.
Rock Hudson’s Parties, Chapter 2 (Jadore/Biadore) - Imafuckinglibra
Summary: A fresh faced young man gets off a bus in New York to move in with an estranged college friend, now a broadway star. Old flames flare up again but are potentially derailed when an older man’s temptations threaten to come between them.
Fair Warning : There is actually smut in this one yay! Including a little illustration to go with it but tbh it's pretty sfw - no bits or anything. Brief mentions of death & that's about it me thinks.
A week. A whole week Danny had been in New York already and he still hadn’t adjusted. He still didn’t feel any more in control of his life than he did in Azusa.
“Dammit.” He winced when his razor nicked a bit of skin below his lip. He stared at it, watching where the tiny bubble of blood came up.
Right below where he felt Roy’s lips brush past before he walked off into the night. As if absolutely nothing had happened.
‘Nothing did happen. If you don’t think about him he doesn’t exist,’ he scolded himself. Repeating the same mantra he did every time he walked past Roy’s apartment building as if he was the boogeyman. ‘Focus.’
He drew his attention back to his reflection in the mirror. What he thought was his reflection at least.
He looked somewhat unrecognizable to himself. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it reminded him of a saying his mother used to throw around.
‘I can't put my finger on it, but if I could - I’d have to wash my hands!’
Maybe it was just nerves, some lingering stress from being the new kid on the block at work that made him uneasy. The alienation he felt was palpable. Between you and me though, it was most likely the fact that it was Monday morning before the sun had even come up and his head was still buzzing from the ‘quick’ cocktail party he’d attended with Jinkx the previous night. Was it the previous night?
He swore they left the apartment on Saturday night, yet he didn’t remember coming home till just a few hours ago, when he fell into his bed at long last. Drowning happily in a flurry of warm blankets and Jinkx's limbs sprawled over him where she had passed out, too drunk and too lazy to go find her own bedroom.
He settled on the pang in his stomach and his throbbing head being the cause of the discomfort he felt, and made his way to the kitchen for relief.
Coffee, that’s what would fix him. Coffee and the absolutely glorious spread of greasy breakfast foods Jinkx had made - bacon, sausages, eggs - butter smothered on everything, even the poor pan-seared potatoes Jinkx placed next to him as she sat down finally.
“You know,” Jinkx lulled, twirling a loose strand of hair from Danny’s forehead between her fingers. Unraveling all the hard work he’d done to finesse his unruly hair flat despite him swatting at her hand, “Shangie might’ve been right the other night. You’d make a gorgeous girl. Absolutely adorable.”
“Yeah? You think?” Danny gulped. “What does that mean? Is it something I do or, or how I sit?”
He slurped down another gulp of orange juice, the only unbuttered item on the menu. Not that he’d put it past Jinkx to experiment with that type of thing.
Although she was a great cook, every now and then she’d slip something in that she whipped up all by herself without the help of ladies’ magazines or cookbooks.
He wasn’t much better though. Outside the usual toast or bowl of cereal he made himself, he never had gotten the hang of cooking.
Not for lack of trying. His first morning there he had tried earning his keep by assisting with breakfast, assuming Jinkx would be far too sloshed to be any good, but she had very quickly put him in his place. She reminded him that as the lady of the house, she’d be taking up the housework and meal preparation before going to rehearsals; all he had to do was bring home a (not fat but at least plump) paycheck.
And maybe screw her brains out when she so politely asked him of course, like a proper friend should.
“Of course not, dear. It’s perfectly natural to want to play in girls’ clothes once in a while, didn’t Fred Mertz even dress up for an episode of I Love Lucy about some club thing?”
“That was different.” He scrunched his top lip. “And I’ll have you know it was the Ricky Asks For a Raise episode and they ALL dressed up.”
She shook her head, unamused. “You watch too much television; it’s gonna rot your brain one of these days.”
“It’s gonna rot your mep mep mep,” Danny sarcastically mimicked her disapproval with his hand, making her laugh as he did most mornings.
“You suuuuuure you never dabbled? Never played in your mother’s makeup or put on her shoes? Not even a brassiere?” she kept teasing, "You've always had such a fondness for breasts, I assumed you'd have some complex, dear.”
“No. Never.” Danny laughed uncomfortably, blushing at the implication. “I told you my father would’ve, well. I mean, he was in both wars, you know those guys. They can’t help it, different generations.”
He didn’t really want to think of his father too much. He didn’t openly hate him or anything, he was just sort of scared of him. He’d have violent fits of rage if the coffee had been burnt, if Danny flunked a test or even if a dog barked too loud.
It’s difficult for a child to bond with a man like that, or any parent for that matter, always tip-toeing around any small confrontation where even praise could be taken negatively. Suspicious you were out to get him at every word.
His brothers weren’t like that though. They were kind and gentle souls, till enlistment day. When a naïve 9 year old Danny watched them all join the service, dutifully joining their father fighting in the Pacific.
Don’t get me wrong, he admired them, idolized them for their bravery and their ability to come back and still see the good in humanity. However, he envied them. He’d never dare say it out loud though, especially considering how one of them, Charlie, never made it back.
Still, he saw the way they got a pat on the shoulder from every neighbor when they came home, or the praise and attention he’d always longed for from their parents - he couldn’t help but feel jealous.
Fine. Maybe there were some issues there, but he’d deal with them his own way. ‘Eventually,’ he lied to himself, like we all do.
He’d gotten so lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed at first how Jinkx’s eyes had glazed over. As if she was still there, just perhaps not as present. Even so, she kept her chipper smile, taking a big bite of runny eggs on toast.
“You know? Uh, the way those military men are?” he repeated.
She snorted, “That I do.”
“Say here. How is your family? Folks doing alright?” he asked, trying to make polite conversation rather than openly intrude. “I can only imagine how excited your mother must be to have a daughter.”
“Yeah…”
“Must have been strange for you, I’m sure to, to…am I stepping on some toes?”
“Oh heavens no, I just haven’t talked about it in ages. I wasn’t ready yet.” She shook her ginger hair to lay perfectly against her shoulders, sat up straight with her hands folded in front of her, and smiled her best attempt at a pageant smile. “Go ahead, ask me again.”
Danny quickly swept his hair flat with his palms and mimicked her straight back demeanor, going at it again but this time as if he was asking a colleague about the weekend. “Okay. How is your family, dear?”
“I don’t know.” Her eyes flicked around aimlessly before back at him. Probably trying to avoid thinking too hard. “I haven’t spoken to them in over 4 years.”
Uh oh, she was curt.
“Oh. I just always assumed your mother would be understanding.”
He wasn’t quite sure if he should keep pressing the issue, but Jinkx was casually eating her breakfast with the same vigor and gleeful energy as she had before the conversation shifted, so he assumed she was okay with it. Besides, he’d known her long enough. At least, when he used to know her ‘before Jinkx,’ he’d known her well enough that she’d never hide anything from him.
Could it really be that maybe he missed something? Maybe she was struggling all those years he’d pushed her away and he never saw past himself to reach out. He assumed she’d be strong enough to handle anything without him, it never even occurred to him to stop and just ask. Just check in at least once.
“She was.”
Without missing a beat, she stood up to put the tin coffee pot on the stove and flick the burners on.
“I sent my parents a letter and a photograph, of me, obviously. You know. I explained everything. My mother called me first. She told me that she didn’t quite understand it yet but that she loved me regardless.”
Danny studied her face, on the edge of his seat as her eyes hinted at a tearful glimmer. Her face turned back to stone before he could even register it happening.
“Later that night my father called me. He’d shot her dead.”
Danny’s heart sank. He instinctively reached for his shirt buttons, fiddling with them, twisting them - anything he could do to keep himself distracted from processing the horror of it just yet.
She swallowed, then went on. “And, he was planning on shooting himself too because he couldn’t get to me. One of us had to go, he said, but they arrested him before he had the nerve to go through with it. Worthless coward. Coffee?”
“How-“ He knew she wouldn’t want sympathy or a show of weakness, at least the old Jinkx wouldn’t, so instead he followed her lead and swallowed his pity. “Absolutely, I’d love some.”
The room had stalled quiet after her revelation, except for the noise of water bubbling in the pot, the traffic outside the window gearing up as people left their home to start the day, and a gentle hum from the neighbor’s radio.
Danny watched Jinkx prepare another cup of coffee for each of them, wondering what was going through her head as she tapped her long beige claws rhythmically against the countertop. Like she was tapping herself a little beat.
He felt a very heavy knot of guilt in the pit of his stomach. Like he should’ve known better, not just about inquiring so much but about the way he abandoned her for so many years after college. Never even a letter or anything.
As usual, someone else had to make the move for him before he’d finally pull himself together. He knew which letter she was referring to; he’d gotten a similar one 2 and a half years after ‘she’ dropped out of college.
He didn’t recognize the name on the envelope at first, but he knew the handwriting anywhere, he’d spent enough time studying it while copying notes she’d taken in their shared classes.
He understood what her mother meant; he didn’t understand it either. He couldn’t process it for weeks, couldn’t decide what to do. He’d spend hours and hours after class just staring at her photo.
All he could remember thinking was, ‘Look at how happy she is.’
One day, he got brave enough to call her like she’d asked, and it was amazing. It was like he’d blinked and she’d blossomed, not just the noticeable things. Her laugh - even her energy seemed happier, vibrant and alive.
It didn’t feel like talking to his college roommate, it felt like a whole new person. Never putting the two of them together in his mind, maybe he didn’t want to, maybe he wanted to keep them separated just enough he wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of his feelings.
Maybe he just wanted to enjoy having her and what she brought into his life as a ‘new’ friend. Including the butterflies you get seeing them laugh for the first time. The little smile you get thinking back on a joke they’d told you just knew would become a lifelong memory.
Even learning new details about her he never knew before - she liked white chocolates more than milk, she liked red wine more than white, she preferred coffee over tea but only on rehearsal days, she liked when your hand would caress the back of her neck but not her thigh.
Fine, yes. He may have explored more than just her mind after so many outings together, where they’d met in San Francisco one night. He couldn’t tell you how it happened the first time, and to be honest neither could I.
These things never have a beginning, it’s the way it goes when two friends finally get brave enough to acknowledge what they’ve both been feeling.
‘Besides,’ Danny had told himself. ‘I’ve done it with girlfriends in the past, she’s a girl and my friend. Why not? Would this really be that different?’
‘Oh god.’ He realized he had spiraled down a tangent. The knot in his stomach turning tighter as it hit him that never once during their letters, calls, dates, what have you - never once did he ask her about her parents.
They’d never discussed their families much before so it never hit him till now that she was unusually vague about them. He assumed that well, so was he during that time so what gave him the right to push her on the matter.
‘Dammit.’
“Say, I…I really am so sorry, I didn’t mean -“
“Oh no. I’m fine, mean it.” She dropped herself back into her seat and resumed eating some bacon. “See, people complain about how the poor dear family must weep for losing their son or daughter. Why must they suffer so having lost ONE family member? Nobody stops to think maybe the son or daughter has to grieve too, not just for themselves but, but for their family. Even the supportive ones.”
Danny found himself remembering a very different Jinkx, who’d made a very similarly grand speech to keep themselves from crying in school when they’d been caught cheating on a math test.
‘Why must we quarrel so over x = y or 2 + 2 doesn’t equal 3 when there are STILL children in this country starved. Not just for food, neigh, for nourishment of the mind, of the heart and soul. Not…algebra. After all, time goes by…so slowly…'
It made him happy thinking of those days, right when they’d met as college freshmen, and more importantly, before Jinkx dropped out to move away and change her life, leaving him behind. Back when it was just them, best friends daydreaming together in their own world.
“For what it’s worth,” he finally began, breaking the awkward sounds of a lonely knife and fork sliding over the plate. “I am very, very grateful I didn’t lose you.”
He stared up from his own plate to see Jinkx watching in shock at the sudden display of affection. The corners of her mouth twisting into a sincere smile, her brow furrowing as if she was holding back too many emotions to think about right now. And just as suddenly as you could say blink, she was back to herself.
“Thank you, dear. Now finish up; the bus won’t wait for you and if you miss another day what will they think?”
“You’re right.” He beamed, happy to see the color return to her cheeks.
He downed the last quick cup of coffee she made, despite the stinging burn it caused down his throat, and reached for the coat and hat combo that she’d purchased for him, so he’d look more professional. He foraged around some bills and newspaper clippings she’d left on the small desk by the door, trying to locate the briefcase he’d forgotten there on Friday.
“Does it bother you?”
“You kiddin’, not at all. I like reading your reviews between breaks. It gives me something to look forward to in meetings. Makes me feel like Lucy Ricardo if I’m honest with you.”
“Daniel,” she spoke seriously. Halting his movements with a firm grip on his wrist so he’d look at her while she stayed seated in the old, painted blue dining chair. “Does it bother you? Me?”
“Oh.” He finally caught on. “Why no. Why would it?”
“It’s just that since you’ve gotten here, every time we fuck...You seem…distant. I know we’re not exactly going steady or anything, but I’d like it if you were a little more attentive once in a while when you made love to me. Properly.”
“You mean…” Danny inhaled hard, fixing his tie.
He couldn’t particularly say why this bothered him so much, but suddenly this talk felt like something he shouldn’t be a part of. It terrified the shit out of him. Maybe he’d made a romantic gesture that he’d missed sooner.
“I mean, if you’re so unbothered, would you mind looking at me, or touching me, or kissing me? Not that I don’t enjoy getting straight to it. Maybe we could just…try it?“
“Oh.” He nodded, considering her sincere words. Not just thinking about them but really, really taking in what she was asking of him. Intimacy. A connection, anything. Not a proposal, just some comfort. It certainly wasn’t unreasonable; it was realistic.
She eventually dropped her head and her hand, clearly fed up with him taking so long to answer. “You’re right. Forget what I said, old friend.”
Shit. The last time Jinkx made an effort towards a deeper connection, he chickened out. He didn’t want to make the same mistake, he had to be more reasonable now.
“Dollface," he tried salvaging the situation, dropping to his knees in front of her so he could look at her face. “What time does your rehearsal end tonight, huh? I’ll try to pick you up and we’ll go out, make a night of it. Nice place to eat, maybe dance a little and then we can come home and, and I’ll - I’ll do whatever makes you happy? Okay?”
Jinkx’s frown began twitching back into a smile without her intending to, unable to keep a straight face at the big hazel eyes staring up at her with such empty promises and well intentions.
“Sure. I’ll call you at work.” She rolled her eyes. “Now go before you miss the bus.”
“Swell.” He jumped up, planting a big wet kiss on her forehead before he rushed out the front door and down the hall to the elevator.
He was sure she’d see through his façade, but he’d managed to pull it off and keep his cool under the pressure. Once he got on his bus though, he couldn’t help but drop his head in his hands as that knot of guilt dug itself deeper into his soul. His miserable, pathetic, black soul, he punished himself.
Thinking about her parents, which made him think about his own dead brother. Thinking about Jinkx and how she must’ve felt. Reaching out for the one thing we all want, a connection. It wasn’t all lies though—he did love Jinkx, but merely as a friend. Maybe. He couldn’t tell anymore.
Sure it’s swell having someone looking after you, cooking and cleaning for you, sucking your dick for you. Once or twice, they’d even come home drunk from the club together and he’d fucked her, which was enjoyable, make no mistake. Something had changed since their stolen moments together before moving to New York, and he couldn’t quite get his heart or his head to be as eager about it anymore.
He blamed Courtney and the Pink Flamingo Club. And Roy. And Morgan that…stupid emcee with the big muscles and even bigger breasts who’d walk around in slacks one night and a skirt the next. And Raja with their deep voice, short, fringed dresses and non-existent breasts that still somehow aroused him.
‘I’ll be damned, she's right, I do have a complex,” he groaned internally.
“Penny for your thoughts?” He heard a, strangely familiar, rough voice next to him.
“No. I’m scum, and I’m broke. I’m broke scum,” he whined, rubbing his eyes furiously with the back of his knuckles before he sat up. His mother would scold him for talking to strangers like this if she could but so be it, he deserved it.
“I’ve seen scummier,” Roy cackled from his chest next to him, clearly amused by his childishness. Wait, Roy?
“Roy!” he recognized, face draining white in a panic. “Oh...Roy. I- I-“ He began to stutter, his breathing picking up.
Roy darted his eyes around to see if the people around them had noticed, then quickly leaned in, pretending to lift his coat tail out from under him as he whispered, “Shh, it’s fine. Not here.”
Danny knew what he meant. Not in public, not this open. This wasn’t the time to regret curious questions in a bar or a kiss with a man you don’t even know past a first name.
He took Roy’s lead and turned it around, grabbing his hand with both of his for a vigorous, masculine shake. “Good t-to see you again, chum, how’s the mi- I mean how’s it going?”
He could tell despite the stern expression at first Roy was hiding a small smile behind it. The dimples in his cheeks noticeably deepening when their hands touched.
A touch Danny dropped as soon as possible, unsure how long was the appropriate time for acting natural and cool.
‘Shit. Has he been waiting for me? Is he mad? Should I say something?’
His panic began bubbling to the surface again. His hands reaching up to nervously fix his tie, his collar, fiddle with the buttons on his shirt - anything.
“I started a new job,” he blurted out, “at the bank.”
Roy nodded along with him, clearly unsure of where this was going at first too. “And you’ve been too busy to call or stop by the bar at the club or…walk down the street and wave at me?”
“Yeah.” He smiled his best ‘get out of jail’ grin. “Something like that.”
“Meaning, you and I are okay then?”
“Yes?” Danny swallowed. Unsure what he meant by ‘okay’ but he didn’t want to risk pushing the issue any further and explaining why he couldn’t wave to him or dare see him at the club.
His very presence haunting his sober brain with images of their inebriated kiss replaying in his mind over and over.
Roy coughed, maybe not so subtly, to get his attention back from his momentary daydreaming. Smoothing his thick black hair under his hat. “Now, it’s not the ‘bank’ getting you down, is it?”
Danny shook his head no.
“Then what’s got you so blue?”
“Girl troubles, roommate troubles. Both I suppose.”
Roy leaned back in his seat, nostrils flared, scraping some lint from his pants. “I see. I didn’t realize you and Jinkx were going steady.”
“No, we’re not. I don’t think we are. I mean, I - see, why do women have to be so damn complicated!” he huffed, crossing his arms like a rotten child. “You know a girl over eight years, she insists that all she wants is to stay your friend. Promises you nothing will come out of it and then bam!” He smacked his hands together. ”Suddenly she wants flowers and dinners and rings.” Hyperbole of course, but Roy didn’t know that.
“Sounds like you need a drink,” he tried sympathetically suggesting. Drumming his fingers on his knee while he waited for Danny to deny his request, but when neither could think of a good reason not to they settled it.
Roy stood up and pulled on the lever, asking the driver to stop the bus, directing Danny to come with him.
Danny was a bit hesitant about missing another day of work, but Roy reasoned with him that as long as he called them from the phone both outside the club and claimed he had a terrible cold, what could they do? It’s not like all of New York would come to a standstill because one bank teller had to miss a day’s work.
Besides, it was easy, he realized, mimicking Roy’s speech to his own employer, the same woeful little cough and clogged nose bit that a school boy would try with their mother.
“I thought you made costumes for movies?” Danny asked, confused when they finally made their way inside a depressing little dive bar tucked between two restaurants.
Roy hadn’t called a company or studio like he anticipated; he called the owner of the Pink Flamingo Club, pathetically promising to work every opening and closing shift for the rest of the week.
“That’s just Jinkx being facetious. Most of the time, I work behind the bar at the Pink Flamingo. A friend of mine who works in pictures calls me up to do jobs when something comes up that’s up my alley. Then I go back to the bar, so I can earn enough to last me till the next picture, rent a new closet to live in and sling drinks to keep from being broke. Or bored to death in some godforsaken office job.”
“Wow.” Danny gasped, amazed either way by how much more impressive his job description sounded than his own. As if every job didn’t sound more impressive than his own. “You’re like a superhero with a double life.”
Roy’s face completely broke at the seriousness in his compliment, making Danny click just how absurd what he said sounded. It was nice though, seeing him so happy, it made you feel at ease with the lightheartedness.
“I’m no Clark Kent, kid.” He kept cackling loudly even when the bartender slid their drinks over. “I just like to work while I can, you know. And be grateful for it.”
“I guess…” he sighed.
The shift in his attitude must’ve been a lot more noticeable than he believed as suddenly Roy’s tone softened. Guiding him to go sit in the back corner of the bar where they were hidden in the shadows, free to discuss all his woes with their 8am liquor.
First, he was a bit reluctant to share, so he asked Roy some questions about his own life, and where he came from. Roy told him about immigrating from Cuba, to which Danny had to bite his tongue to stop himself from asking like Desi.
However, Roy obviously either got that question regularly, or knew Danny well enough at that point, and acknowledged it before he could with a snippy, “Not like Desi. We were poor and Papi didn’t own half the fucking country…but I do like their rum.”
He talked about the few movies he’d worked on, talked about the actresses and actors he got to meet that made Danny swoon. He even mentioned how he'd been a veteran of the war, stationed in France during the invasion and then Australia - Danny made a note to ask him if he knew Courtney's elusive serviceman at a later date.
Eventually, as Danny grew more comfortable, it was more give than take. He began rattling off every single life event since his first day in kindergarten, when a little boy kicked sand onto his apple, but Roy listened and gave his input on everything. Praising his honesty, encouraging him to open up more.
He’d reached a boiling point he didn’t know he had and once he let it all out, he let it ALL out. For hours, he nursed the same 2 Irish coffees, too busy talking to even take a drink anyway. It was remarkable, the conversation flowing between them as freely and naturally as lifelong friends.
He told Roy about how he rushed home the day his father and brothers returned from war, how excited he was to finally tell them about everything they’d missed, how he wanted to hug them, kiss them - anything. Something he assumed Roy’s own loved ones must have been feeling.
Instead all they did that day was plan Charlie’s funeral. All the things he wanted to share about his budding adolescent firsts seemed so small and inconsequential as he watched his mother stoically browse through caskets.
“How did they find him?” Roy asked solemnly, his warm hand hovering over Danny’s knuckles hidden beneath the table, soothing him softly, carefully.
Danny took a sip from the dismal remains of his coffee, pulling a face at the bitter bland taste before he acknowledged the question. The fact that Roy wasn’t just listening but openly and patiently inquiring into what he was saying finally gave him the courage to say the words out loud.
“He managed to make it through 3 years of fighting in the Pacific, just to crash the truck he was driving back to the base. Isn’t that just like life sometimes?” He chuckled halfheartedly to keep his voice from breaking. He couldn’t help himself from clutching at the hand still holding his, desperate for a bit of human warmth. His eyes locking with Roy’s. “Just when you think you’re gonna be okay, something knocks you down.”
Maybe it was the poor ventilation in the bar, or the alcohol he’d sipped on without eating anything besides breakfast that day, but suddenly Danny felt his head go dizzy. Everything around him was almost standing still in a fog as he watched Roy’s lips.
Pondering how he got to this moment in his life, where the only thing he wanted was for him to kiss it all better.
“I’m very sorry for your loss.” Roy broke the silence, making Danny quickly fall back into his seat, frantically rubbing his face and smoothing out his hair as if he’d just woken up from a bad dream.
“What time is it?” He flailed around, looking for the watch he’d forgotten to put on this morning when he spotted a familiar blond man standing in front of the club at the bus stop.
“Shit!”
“What? What is it?” Roy tried asking.
“That’s Willam, shit, he’s a coworker. If he sees me here, he’ll think I’m…I’m -”
Roy’s eyes narrowed. “Think you’re what?”
“You know!” Danny exclaimed, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “He’ll think I’m…like you!”
“Like me, eh?” Roy retorted, sitting back in his seat with an unreadable expression, shooting back the last of his own drink before taking out a cigarette.
Danny was frozen; he didn’t know whether to run or hide. He didn’t want Willam to see him skipping out on work and report him, but without ever having to say the word out loud he knew what he meant, and he knew he couldn’t escape it this time.
“I thought that tur-” Roy started, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Looking around at the other four people in the bar. “I thought you were implying something different.”
“I - I never implied anything.”
“Yes you did and you know it.” He gritted his teeth as if he was holding something back. “I guess I was wrong about you though, huh? Or did you just get off on the idea of messing with me? Having a nice laugh at me giving you my number.”
“No.”
“Oh, so I wasn’t wrong then? You liked it?”
“No!”
They’d once again met at that pond, lost deep, deep in some repressed memories Danny held where their eyes met, predator and prey. Kicking himself for letting this happen again.
“Hold on." He approached the subject slowly, taking a deep breath. Palms defensibly held out by his hips. “Yes. I had a momentary lapse of judgment but I’m-I’m pretty sure, I’m not like, you know,” he swallowed, “that.”
Either it worked, or Roy had gotten too good at putting on a face as he seemed to return to his usual composed self. His expression, however, still felt as if he knew more than he was letting on, like he was 10 steps ahead in a game Danny didn’t even know how to play. “Okay.”
“Huh?”
“Okay,” he repeated, taking a long drag from his cigarette as he stood up, throwing some cash on the table. “If you say so. I’ll be at the club tonight though if you want to not talk about it some more.”
“I can’t, I’m taking Jinkx out…”
“Sure you are.” He patted Danny’s chest one last time and left. Leaving him there on his own, unsure of what to do.
Luckily, he managed to sneak home just in time to avoid being caught for his little day off escapades. But when he crossed the threshold, he suddenly had the urge to wash off something dirty from his soul and immediately hopped into the small shower.
Scrubbing for ages to try and cleanse something tainted from his hair, his skin, his very spirit maybe. The water turned cold by the time he realized how shriveled his fingers and toes had grown.
“Hey!” He heard Jinkx running into the living room, followed by shoes being kicked off, a coat thrown haphazardly onto something making it rustle, and then she reached his bedroom.
He’d been standing in front of the bed with his clothes all spread out, wondering what to wear but too lost in thoughts of what Roy had said. His spirit still dirty despite the raw skin.
“Well hell-o,” she teased by digging a finger into his brief’s waistband, not so subtly looking down at his ass.
“Hello to you too.” He feigned a sense of normalcy, reaching around to give her a quick cheek peck and a big fat hug. Her boundless enthusiasm was too much for him to contain, however, as she ran out before he could fully close his arms.
Heading towards her bedroom to change into an evening dress, he gathered, by the big closet door’s signature hinge squeak.
“Listen. I know you were so sweet to promise a date for tonight but I have a show business thing I have to do.”
‘Thank god.’
“You can come though! I need to meet the new director and go over some things with him, so I suggested we meet at the club.”
‘Shit!’
“Actually, I would just feel like I’m in your way, dollface. Why don’t you go alone?” he tried to argue, leaning against the doorway, forgetting he was still in his underwear.
“Nonsense! I’ll buy you a drink and you can talk to the band boys about that audition. It’ll be great. Once you get dressed. Hop to it.” She snapped her fingers.
“Great for who?” he mumbled, almost certain she heard it.
By the time they’d met up with the director at the club, Danny’s heart felt like it was going to fall out of his ass. It was beating violently, making him nauseous, knowing Roy would take this as a win.
He tried fighting Jinkx on the matter but she seemed so insistent he come along that he couldn’t say no.
Fine, he didn’t fight that hard. He barely fought at all; he wanted to see Roy. Despite what he said, he still wanted to see him. He couldn’t stop seeing him every time he closed his eyes and he needed the real thing.
“Thank god,” he praised under his breath when they walked in and Roy was nowhere to be seen. He could relax. Coming to terms with this being some joke the older man had tried playing on him meant soon enough he could breathe normally again.
The rest of the night went great. They chatted, danced a few numbers, had a great meal and again, more than a fair share of drinks.
He felt so at ease, so affirmed in his role as the straight-laced man of the house his parents had expected of him. Jinkx was in her element, flattering the director with grace and elegance, buttering him up with invitations to dinners at their apartment as she lazily played with the button on his sleeve all night.
He finally felt like things might be all right. Ish. As always though, when things were going a little too great, he came back from the bathroom to see who but Roy and that night’s singer, Trinity, at their table.
Roy positioned, coincidentally of course, in the seat next to his acting as if he hadn’t seen him in ages. Shaking his hand and dropping a phony, “Daniel right?”
A name he knew good and goddamn well from their discussions that day that only 2 people called him - Jinkx and his mother.
Trying to keep his composure, Danny politely nodded, shaking his hand before he sat back down. Unable to follow the rest of the conversation that took place about singers, back up dancers and even costuming.
His only contribution being when Trinity asked what he did and if he was also in show business. He didn’t hear her at first due to Roy’s leg pressing against his, causing a momentary brain lapse.
“Banker.” He coughed. “Well, bank - um bank teller.”
“Oh please.” Jinkx cackled, patting his hand. “That’s just temporary, he's the best singer around here, besides myself and Miss Bonet of course.”
“Is that so?” Trinity inquired, shooting Roy a brief glance.
“Y-“
“Of course!” His drunk roommate interrupted again, making Danny purse his lips into a forced smile. “He also plays three instruments AND writes his own songs. I keep telling him he should audition for the band here but he’s a little shy.”
“That’s enough, dear.” He tried to play it cool through his blushing, struggling to tell her to shut up without using so many words.
“Why didn’t you say so? I got this little thing her first gig here, I can get you one,” Roy nonchalantly commented from next to him.
‘Oh sure,’ he thought, but the rest of the table began encouraging him to go for it. Words of affirmation made it too embarrassing to reject the offer so he agreed and followed Roy out to the back of the stage where, allegedly, the club owner liked to work alone.
“Bunny?” Roy knocked on the big red door before he pushed it open, examining the empty office space. “Guess she’s not here.”
Even if he tried, Danny couldn’t tell you what came over him, he grabbed Roy by the perfectly starched collar and slammed him against a wall. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“What?”
“You can get me a gig, really? And that leg thing, what's wrong with you?”
“What?” Roy asked, seeming genuinely taken aback. “I thought I was helping you? I thought we were friendly? What leg thing?”
“…oh.” Danny tried pulling away, suddenly feeling very silly, but his head was too clouded by the realization that he still had Roy pinned beneath him. Worse, that he had Roy pinned beneath him with a growing erection.
Roy had obviously noticed the bulge pressed against his thigh, as anyone would, and smirked with a slight glint in his eyes. “Not like me, huh?”
“It doesn’t mean anything.” He quickly let go, shooting to the other side of the small room like a frightened deer with his hands desperately covering his crotch.
“I’m sure it doesn’t,” Roy teased, scratching his chin awkwardly pretending to look away. “But, the offer still-uh, still stands. About Bunny, not the debauchery, or the number, as you’ve pointed out.”
“I wanted to call, um, but -” Danny tried defending but it felt pointless. He felt tired, unsure of what to do or say. Instead he just shook his head and buttoned his jacket back up to hide his embarrassment.
“I don’t understand you?” Roy crossed his arms, turning further away from him, this time with his whole body.
“What?”
“You asked me those things at the bar which, I’ll admit I took the wrong way. Clearly…” He tilted his head in Danny’s direction but kept his eyes on the wall. ”But you sat with me all day, I mean, I genuinely thought maybe you liked me.”
“Oh,” he repeated. He hadn’t considered that. Hadn’t taken Roy’s feelings into account, instead trying to think how he could still win this fight.
“Why are you hiding now though?”
“I’m not.” He was. Talking about your parents all day will have that effect on you, bringing that recognizable self-loathing back in a person. Even making him a little sheepish at that moment. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Fine. Better get back to the table then,” Roy exhaled, holding the door open for him.
He nodded, leaving Roy alone in the office.
As he made his way back to the table, defeated, he was intercepted by Jinkx going towards the bathroom, the two of them colliding into each other with a thud. Danny managed to grab hold of her by the shoulders and steady them both.
“Sorry, Doll, I didn't think to check where I was going.”
“I see that. Blood rushed somewhere else maybe?” she joked, eyeing between them where the bigger than usual bulge was still poking through.
‘Shit.’
“I guess it just…really likes running into you,” Danny quickly recovered, trying to save face before she asked too many questions.
Jinkx smiled a big grin and leaned into his ear with a husky tone, “Didn’t know you were such a romantic, why don’t I take care of that for you before we go back?”
Her whispers sent shivers up and down his back and straight to his groin, making his underwear painfully tight and his head painfully cluttered. How could he say no though? He needed to forget this day, he needed someone safe and familiar to hold onto till his world stopped spinning.
They rushed out the back door where he’d witnessed the spectacle with Courtney and a certain set of lovers, checking first this time that they were in fact alone.
They wasted no time, crashing into one another the second they established they were out of sight. Frantic kisses landing on exposed necks, lips, ears, wherever they could.
Danny’s hands cupping her face aggressively to pull her in for a passionate open-mouthed kiss. Hearing her moan, her cheeks and neck growing hot against his lips as he finally gave her the attention she’d asked for. Even if he knew it wasn’t for her, his mind could barely keep track of who it was picturing, Roy flashing into it every so often as he fought against his temptations.
“My my,” Jinkx moaned, dropping to her knees to wrestle his belt off. “Poor baby, you look like you’re fit to burst.”
“Maybe you’re just - aaah, that amazing,” he cried out when she took his thick cock into her mouth. Biting into his knuckles when the sensation overwhelmed him.
She didn’t seem to notice, or react if she did. Her red hair jostled wildly as she moved her head. Enveloping him fully, causing the thick vein on the side of his cock to pulse and his legs turn to jelly.
He held onto the wall behind them, bare palms flattened against it for support as his hips bucked wildly into her mouth. Groaning and cursing so loud and without care, he didn’t hear the door next to them open.
Barely enough for the light to poke through but enough that once he noticed, he caught Roy’s eyes watching them. His mouth opened as if he was about to say something before he saw them. An unreadable expression plastered across his sculpted face.
‘Dammit to hell,’ he cursed mentally, wishing Roy would be more animated like Jinkx with her heart on her sleeve. It’s tough enough trying to figure out what’s going on in your head let alone someone else’s.
Regardless, his own mind told him to stop, to immediately pull out and pretend nothing happened, maybe even confront Roy. Call him a bastard, a pervert, anything. He couldn’t.
He grabbed Jinkx and quickly spun her around, unable to contain himself any longer, spitting a good glob of saliva into his hand and onto his cock while she lifted her many skirt layers, reading his overzealous intentions all too well. Giggling like a lovesick schoolgirl, eager to please on prom night.
“Don’t bother being gentle,” she growled against the wall, arching her back to let him slide in and push her chest further into the bricks.
Trying to get on his tippy toes for easier access, he cursed her high heels vehemently before he grabbed onto her hips finally and dropped his forehead against the nape of her neck. Success! Sweet, sweet success.
Jinkx moaned loudly, unabashedly enjoying the moment. Distracting him briefly from the onlooker who caused this peep show to begin with.
His face tilted to the left where he could keep an eye on Roy, Jinkx pushed her hips back further with another loud wail, his own lips parting into a silent scream as her tight asshole stretched over his cock.
“That’s it. Like that,” she praised when his hips resumed their furious humping, hooking her fingers with his, unaware that while she was moaning out his name he was too busy saying silent prayers to Roy to even register.
His teeth gritted, eyes straining against the poor light so he could watch Roy for just a little longer. Studying the way his dark eyes sparkled in the softest bit of glow coming through. He’d pressed his lips into an acknowledging smile and started moving back towards the noise of the club when Danny shook his head no.
‘This is wrong.’
He knew it was. But his body craved the familiar, that human warmth again. His tipsy, confused mess of a mind however wanted the thrill of it.
He wanted Roy to see that his cock might’ve been inside Jinkx at that minute but not his mind. His mind was his to play with, to live in, not hers.
He couldn’t hold it any more, too filled with lust to care if he couldn’t last long enough, he furrowed his brows and tilted his head down as he grunted one last time. Slamming his hip bones flat against Jinkx’s round ass cheeks as he came.
Dropping his heels back down onto the ground with his twitching, limp dick sliding back out of her. His body felt as spent and tired as his soul, saying one last prayer to whoever would listen. Even if it was Roy or Jinkx. Anyone willing to hear.
“Sorry.” He whispered tentatively into her back, not just for what a mess he’d made between her legs but well, you know.
He didn’t have to say it, he didn’t have it in him yet.
“It’s okay, baby,” she reassured with a gentle lilt, taking the handkerchief he’d handed her to wipe them both clean. “You know I love it when you don’t hold back.” She turned to face him, adding, “So animalistic.”
He wondered if he should laugh at her dirty little comment but some shame still hung heavy on his shoulders. “Did you, um, should I?”
“No dear, you did good. You did very very goooood,” she praised seductively, planting a barrage of kisses on his face. Smothering him with the compliments he needed to soothe his ego.
Danny felt that pang of guilt again. Lavishing in the giddy affection he was receiving from her despite knowing that mere moments ago he pushed her aside, no pun intended, so he could focus on his fantasies again. Worried that if she ever found out, she’d think this was some sick joke he was playing on her.
When they went back inside, the director and Trinity were still chatting at the bar, presumably none the wiser of what had just occurred. No one knew, it seemed. Except Roy. Roy was sitting down in his chair with the most smug, shit eating grin plastered on his face as Danny sat down next to him.
“Where’s your little friend?” he asked, lighting two cigarettes between his teeth.
“She’s powdering her nose,” he responded, trying to avoid eye contact.
More lies. He was getting good at this, what would his mother say if she saw him?
‘When are you gonna man up and take responsibility?’
“Of course she is.” Roy leaned over to place one of the cigarettes he just lit into his mouth before the others returned. “Saw everything at Rock Hudson’s parties huh?”
“Yeah,” he winced, taking a big puff, still keeping his eyes straight ahead rather than acknowledging him.
“Yeah…”
“Don’t tell anyone,” Danny whimpered like a scared child, unexpectedly reaching his hand over, desperately gripping Roy’s hand before the others came back. Just a small act of comradery to assure him they were still okay.
“I…won’t.” Roy shifted uncomfortably in his seat briefly before snapping back to his laid back persona again. Patting Danny on the shoulder reassuringly, instructing him to follow suit. “Just act normal…”
i just want a whole month of queer AUs. like make every story we grew up reading or watching queer. all of them. queer up the fuck out of literally everything.
