RPS: Play

[thebratqueen]

It's sort of a sequel to Method, but you could probably read this on its own.

Probably goes without saying that this is dedicated to Kita ;)

ETA: Other parts of the story can be found here

***

Play
by TBQ

They're kissing again.

In an office, this time, because it has no windows and a door that locks and nobody thinks to look for them here when someone has placed an incontinent dog (belonging to a friend of Alexis's) inside of J's trailer (which was David's idea, and revenge for the frogs that David was still finding inside of his cabinets, and coat pockets) and J is out for retribution and the assistants of the suits are far more serious about the matter and their desire to remind them all that *this is business* and *time is money* and all kinds of other clichés that make everyone *besides* the poor assistants break out into uncontrollable laughter, but it's David and Alexis who get the giggles worst of all.

It was David's idea to run for cover. Not that cover was needed because he's the star of the show and there are so many things he can get away with and playing pranks on his supporting cast is ultimately considered the kind of perk that's supposed to make up for the fact that the network refuses to give him enough money to make his transportation needs less than embarrassing.

But J had been bellowing. Not *seriously* bellowing, but the kind of bellowing that indicates that at bare minimum water balloons might be involved. Or, if he still had them from last month, the squirt guns filled with ink that was supposed to be disappearing, but was actually quite permanent once it hit the silks and linens that made up David's wardrobe.

Not that David minded. He'd laughed it off, thrilled with the fun of it all, and immediately set about finding ways to dump the icy contents of a water cooler over J's head.

David didn't mind anything, so long as it didn't ruin the fun. He would run from J not because he was frightened, but because now the game was hide and seek, and quick-witted ways of figuring out how to one-up one another while avoiding the assistants. Such was the way of life during the long stretches when they had been called to the set, but some chance of lighting, or set, or film forced them all into an hours-long waiting game.

David had grabbed him as soon as J could be heard swearing out his proclamations of retribution. It had occurred to Alexis after that he could have twisted his hand out of David's grasp, pointed out that there was no way to prove that it had been Alexis's idea to bring the dog onto the set, and that David was off on his own for this one. But he hadn't, he didn't, and he'd been laughing as David pulled him along, running as though the hounds of Hell were behind them.

Then they'd found the office. They'd slammed the door. Locked it. Stood there unsuccessfully trying to muffle the laughs that snaked through their out-of-breath gasps for air.

Looked at one another.

Then they were kissing again.

Alexis tells himself that he's lost count of how many times this has happened now. He knows the places, though, and can recite them by heart: on set, in the makeup department, deep in the stacks of the costume warehouse, the bathroom, the other bathroom, by David's car in a moment that might not have *actually* been a kiss but Alexis's pulse insisted that it was all the same, the set again, the meeting room, here.

He doesn't *count* them, though, because that would imply enjoyment. Willingness. A plan. It would suggest that he's doing it on purpose. That any time he and David have come together it's been because they *wanted* to do it.

Which of course isn't true. That's not what it is at all. This is amusement. Silliness. A game. Like all the times they've grabbed one another, wrestling, or tickled each other into breathlessness. It's the joking that happens between friends.

They do it to everyone else. Alexis remains confident of this fact. They *do*, even as the days go by and it becomes harder and harder to remember the last time anyone else was included in this kind of physicality.

But it's not on purpose. Not even this time, when David's hand had been resting on Alexis's hip, and Alexis had pushed into it, bringing them closer, bringing their bodies closer, and his pulse had been racing long before David's lips touched his own.

They're kissing. Slow. Deep. Wet. It's going on forever and Alexis doesn't want it to stop.

It's been forever since he's been with a man. It's been never, in the parlance of the industry where one can be gay on the stages of East Coast and straight on film sets of the West. Alexis hasn't been with a man since England. Which effectively means he's never been with one at all.

Not that any of them were ever serious. Some lasted, others didn't. But the women were exactly the same. He cared for some, only wanted to fuck others, had as much luck with good and bad breakups with either sex.

He's never denied it. He's never been asked. And then his heart and soul was consumed by Alyson.

He honestly thought that settled the matter of which side of the fence he fell on.

There were others, certainly, but that had been Aly's idea. Strong and seductive and beautiful - his own Playboy model, though she'd never gone that far with it. It had been her suggestion to try threesomes. She enjoyed them, as a matter of fact. She knew people. She had friends. And though they didn't stir his heart they were certainly beautiful enough to stir other organs, particularly with Aly's assistance, and thus the fun was had.

He'd offered to reciprocate the favor if she wished. That was how he'd told her of his past. They'd been in bed, his cock buried inside of the pure heat of her body, his fingertips twisting her nipples to the point of pleasure/pain, and he'd murmured, lust-drunk, into her ear that if she wanted to see him with another man, she only had to ask it. He'd put on the show for her. He'd do *anything* for her.

She'd come, nice and hard, and made sure he climaxed so violently that the world vanished for the better part of a minute, but she never said yes in reply.

On the other hand, she hadn't said no either.

Alexis thinks of that, as his teeth graze David's lips. As David's hands roam up and down his sides. This is beyond chaste. This is beyond even half-serious flirtation. It's about sex. Or it should be. His body is thrumming with it. Every inch of his skin is hot-wet-cold-tingling and he wants touch. He's dying for it. His cock is hard and there's no denying the urge, the need. He wants David. He wants more of what this is.

But David doesn't do more. Instead he kisses. He does nothing but kiss. His body is like a mountain, his hands and mouth confident and sure. He wants to kiss Alexis and do nothing but, and Alexis can't wriggle or tease anything more out of him.

And Alexis thinks that might drive him madder still.

He knows David. Knows the rumors. Knows, more importantly, the things which aren't rumors but *tone*. Vocabulary. The particular way that people say things like "David and". David and Sarah. David and Chris. David and the new girl in set design. "David and" has a tone of its own. One that suggests everyone knows the story, even if no one will ever talk about it. Alexis is a relative newcomer to this party. He *doesn't* know all of the tales. He supposes he could ask Alyson, but the curiosity that inspires it makes him too ashamed to even hint at the topic.

Still, he can guess.

He can guess that it's not uncommon for David to do these things. He can guess that David *has* taken his perks on the set, and that nobody dares question this. He's the star, it's his due.

But Alexis doesn't like it. It's a cavalier attitude that doesn't match up with the David that he knows, and for years he assumed it was sour grapes and jealousy that gave life to the implications.

This was, however, before the kissing.

Now he knows that David *does* do this, and he realizes that it's entirely possible that he's merely next on the list. One more name to add to "David and". Alexis doesn't even know if he has all of the names. Once the reality had set in (after the first time in the bathroom, but before the second) he found himself looking at his co-workers, wondering who among them knew. Who had been here, like this, locked in David's arms and discovering that his mouth could take someone so tenderly that they would start to moan before they even knew what was happening?

Were any of them looking at *him* and wondering the exact same thing?

He doesn't like it. It's not right.

He doesn't want to be a name.

Later on, when J's been called back to the set and the kissing is over, and it's a slow and slightly unsteady walk back to his trailer to cool down or shower or just flat-out jerk off to the taste of David that lingers on his lips that he remembers a few other caveats that probably should've been on his mind first:

It's not *honest*.

He doesn't want to be an adulterer.

He hasn't told Aly about any of this. Not one single word.

Time to put a stop to it then.

They have a winter break. Alexis thinks long and hard about it and knows that his feelings haven't changed. He's in love with her. He's in lust with her. He wants to be with her for the rest of his life, and he'll be blessed if she even gives him a fraction of that time. He acts on it. He's giddily surprised at the outcome.

When work starts again, he makes certain to tell David.

"I'm getting married," Alexis says in the privacy of David's trailer. It's the first words out of his mouth. Not even 'hello' or 'happy new year'.

David smiles. "Seriously? That's great! Congratulations."

"To Alyson," Alexis adds. He says the name like protection. Like a shield that will prevent anything from happening.

"Good thing," David says. "You do something stupid like pick anybody else and I'd have beaten the crap out of you."

It's all too normal. Too commonplace. David's talking as though they were friends - which they *are*, but still... "The wedding will probably be later this year."

"You two going to be home this weekend?" David asks. "I want to buy you brunch. Just the two of you. Something to celebrate. I'll have it sent to your house. I know a place. Trust me. It'll be fabulous."

"David!"

David blinks, utterly confused. "What?"

"I'm getting *married*," Alexis says.

"I know, congrats," David says.

Alexis steps forward. Closing the distance between them has proven to be a dangerous idea in the past, but this time it's deliberate. He wants David to acknowledge it, to remember that they *can't* be talking about this as though nothing has happened. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

David holds up his left hand, which sports his wedding ring. "Pretty sure I've got the idea."

"No, I don't think you do," Alexis holds his own hands out, not touching David, but pushing the idea of him away. "David, we can't keep doing... what we've been doing. I'm engaged."

"And I'm married."

"It's not the same thing."

This earns him a quirk of an eyebrow. It also makes him feel incredibly stupid, particularly as David is not only married, but a father, and some of Jaden's toys are scattered about the trailer, along with enough photos of him and Jamie to pass for wallpaper.

"You know what I mean," Alexis says, by way of correction, or apology, or simply trying to dig himself out of this hole.

David doesn't seem bothered by any of it. "Is something wrong?"

It's the speech he's been reciting to himself for days now, but it's all he has left. "This has been a great deal of fun but we can't do this anymore. I'm engaged. I'm in love with Alyson. I'm - I'm not *gay*."

"Me neither."

"Then I'm not - " Alexis gestures helplessly. "This. Whatever this is. This joking and grabbing one another and flirting and *kissing*. That. I can't do *that* anymore, David. Please. It has to stop."

David shrugs. "Okay."

Alexis is momentarily stunned. "Okay?"

There's a knock on the door, and the muffled call for David to get back to the set. David responds to this by shrugging into Angel's jacket. "Yeah. Okay."

"You're certain?" Alexis asks. "It's not - I don't mean to be offensive about it. I *do* like you. And it's not that I didn't like... it. It's just - "

"You can't do it anymore," David says.

"Right," Alexis says.

"The flirting, the kissing, the grabbing, the joking around," David recites as he straightens his collar.

"Yes," Alexis says. "That's it exactly."

And then David is right in front of him, and there's the sharp bite of a countertop digging into his backside, and their lips are *so close* but David's not leaning in enough to make contact.

"You got it," David says, his voice so strong it could hold Alexis still all on its own. "Next time we do this, I'll be dead serious."

Then he's gone, back to the set, and Alexis stands there by himself and wonders if that's the answer he was looking for.