"This is stupid. Really, Hector, out of all the childish things you could be doing right now - this really takes the pie.”
" - - - Takes the c a k e -”
"I do not care which pastry it is. It’s stupid."
The doctor had finally had a chance to steal himself away from the madness that was the clinic this week… And what was he doing? Of course the disciple had memorized his schedule and so noticing the irregularity, he had stormed into the Frenchman’s apartment and dragged him out of bed to explore Fort Frolic - or at least, that’s what he was told. Until now. It seemed as thought Hector Rodriguez had once again found a way to emotionally manipulate the normally quiet and introverted LeCaine into one of his stupid little schemes.
According to the very brief and vague amount of information that was given to him, the actor had gotten himself into a bit of a spat - with none other than the centre of Harrison’s affections, Ava Tate. The doctor couldn’t possibly imagine what this fight could have been over, considering the pair of them had fought over every possible situation and object imaginable. Ever since their little “marriage” ended in shambles, there had been nothing more than bitter remarks exchanged between the two. Or at least, that was his interpretation because at least once a week one of them would enter his office and complain about the other. It was like being the child in the middle of a divorce… With the awkward condition that Harrison had slept with both of them.
"Are we going to do this or not?"
“It’s just down this hall, cool your jets, Harry.”
LeCaine grumbled as the two men manoeuvred through the narrow hallways behind the Fleet Hall stage. For all the money that seemed to pour through the entertainment district every weekend evening for the shows that Cohen and his protegés seemed to put on… A lot of these backstage areas look… dingy. Gross, even. Harrison made a bit of a mental note to wash his hands the second that they left this area and went out to the promised lunch date after this incredibly childish move. And what if Ava Tate wasn’t even in her dressing room at the time? Did she not have other places to be? More important - and more public and expensive places to be? People to meet? Or worse… People to fuck?
Their shuffling came to a halt outside of a rather segregated looking dressing room - the label on the outside of the door still shiny and gold-plated. Ava's name put a small curvature of a smile on the doctor's lips before he rolled his eyes and complied with Hector's request. His toned and athletic arms wrapped tightly around the disciple as the pair practically slammed against the closed and locked dressing room door. So much for hugs being soft and enjoyable... - A sharp nudge dug into his ribs, prompting a grunt to leave Harrison's lips before he raised his voice and spoke as dramatically as possible.
"Ooh, Hector, that was the best blow job I have ever had... It was so much better than the one Ava gave me last week - - -"
As dramatic as he tried to be, LeCaine still portrayed the whole lie in a rather unimpressed tone. This had to have been one of the dumbest ideas he had ever been dragged in to and it was so plainly obvious that it wasn't exactly convincing. Suddenly, a glass shattered against the door that they were leaning up against. Clearly Mademoiselle Tate was in her dressing room - and far from amused. Only the doctor and Ava herself could understand the shrill French curse words that were being shouted at both Harrison and Hector... And with not a moment to spare, the Frenchman grabbed the disciple by his shirt collar and made a run for it.
"If you could understand what she was saying, you would be running too-"
