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Entry tags:
Fic: No Matter How Low
Title: No Matter How Low
Rating: R
Pairing: CMM/JDM
Disclaimer: This is such total bullshit. There just aren't words for it.
A/N: Previous parts of the crack can be found here.
Eight weeks. Eight weeks of flying cross country, of sleeping on bumpy flights and making do with barely any rest. Ron had requested that he bulk up a little, so any spare hours were spent at the gym, until the last vestige of Lucas Scott fading into nothing, never mind that he was still playing the little bastard.
He’d done four episodes of BSG so far. Today, they started the fifth with a bang. His first makeout scene with another guy. At least Alex was just as nervous as he was, listening to their directions wide-eyed.
He was supposed to catch Gaeta in one of the stockrooms, push him against the wall and maul him. It was a banner moment in both their careers. Y’know, if they could just stop staring at each other like deer in the headlights. At least it kept him from falling asleep on his feet like last week.
His cell phone vibrated against his hip, and Chad startled, looking down. “Sorry, phone call.”
“Go ahead,” Ron murmured. “They’ll be at least another five minutes with the lighting.
“Thanks.” He pulled out the cell, looking at the unfamiliar number. Fuck. If someone had leaked his number again, he’d kill someone. “Hello?”
“Hello,” a sweet female voice murmured. “Chad?”
“Yeah.”
“This is Mrs. Morgan. Jeff’s mom. How are you?”
“Oh. Mrs. Morgan. I’m fine. How are you?” He shook his head, as though that would help somehow. “Is everything all right?”
“Of course. With Bisou back home in LA, I missed having you over for dinner now and then, so I wanted to see what your schedule was like in the next few weeks.”
Chad blinked. “You want me to come down. For dinner.”
“Yes, sweetie. If you have time. If not, I understand. Jeff said you were going to be very busy, working on two shows. But we’d love to have you.”
Okay. It was easy to see where Jeff got his tendency towards helping strays. “Um. I’ll see what I can do. Can I call you back and let you know?”
“Of course. Did I get you at work?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, I’m sorry” she chirped. “I just wanted to call you while I was thinking about it. You sound tense, dear. Hard scene?”
“Um. Yeah, kind of. I have a…uh. An intimate scene,” he said carefully.
“Oh.” Jeff’s mother was quiet for a moment. “I guess the old ‘imagine them in their underwear would be kind of pointless, hmm?”
Chad laughed. “Yeah, a little.”
“You’ll do fine, sweetie. Do you and the co-star you’re doing the scene with get along?”
“Yes ma’am. He’s a good guy.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could kick himself. “Um. I-“
“Oh, it’s like that, then,” she laughed.
“Yeah. It is,” Chad said softly.
“Good for you,” Mrs. Morgan said firmly. “It’s on a wonderful show, so I’m sure it’s going to be a great storyline.”
“I think so,” Chad murmured.
“Good. You’ll do fine, sweetie. Just relax.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Morgan.”
“My pleasure. Okay, I’ll let you get back to work. Good luck! And don’t forget to let me know when you can come by for dinner.”
Chad hung up the phone, shaking his head. Alejandro clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, heading for the set. “Ready?”
“Yeah. I think.”
“Me either,” Alex grinned. “So, let’s go have some hot sex, right?”
Chad followed him, grin fading as they stepped onto the set. I can do this, he coached himself. It’s no different than working with any other actor. Just do your damn job.
Alex got on his mark, picking up the clipboard that Gaeta was using to inventory the fleet’s explosives, and Chad waited outside the door.
“Action!”
Chad shoved the door open, slipping into the small armory.
“Hey, you’re not supposed to be in here-“ Alex started.
Without answering, Chad stalked towards him, eyes hard, glaring. Alex dodged around the table, eyes wide. “Donegan, what the frak do you think—“
He moved quickly, hand snaking out like a striking snake, and snagged Alex’s uniform, yanking him close.
“Donegan-“
A slow, wicked smile touched Chad’s lips. “I think,” he purred, leaning close enough that Alex could feel his breath on his jaw. “That under the circumstances, you can call me James.”
Alex made the first move, turning his head and capturing Chad’s lips. It was…weird. No worse than kissing Sophia after the divorce, though. He just had to detach a little. Pretend it was someone else. Angelina Jolie, or Brad Pitt. Or both, really.
Or… Jeff.
Even as the thought flickered into his mind, Chad was reacting to it, shoving Alex into the shelves, kiss turning rougher, almost brutal. Alex was responding in kind, fingers biting into Chad’s shoulders, jerking the uniform jacket down over his arms.
Chad started to pull back, preparing to spin him, to press Alex into the countertop, but Alex’s hand curled around his neck, holding him close. Teeth nipped his lip hard, and Chad jerked back, fingers coming to his lip.
He grinned, digging his hands into Alex’s hair and spun them, lifting so that he was on the counter, and bent in, yanking Alex’s uniform open.
“And cut!”
Chad stumbled back a little, breathing hard. Alejandro didn’t seem much better off, wiping a hand over his mouth. “Wow.”
“You okay?” Chad asked. He could taste copper on his tongue. Apparently, Alex had pretty sharp damn teeth.
“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry about the biting. It just-“
“Chad, we want to get a couple shots of you stalking around the counter like that, then some of Alex backing up, then we’ll be done. I know Chad’s got reshoots across town, so we’ll knock yours out first, so you can get going.”
Chad nodded, the adrenaline slipping away. “Yeah. Okay.”
By the time Chad dragged onto the Supernatural set, the sun had long since sunk below the horizon. Jensen greeted him with a dour wave, still apparently sore about the stray he’d insisted on taking to the Humane Society…in Jensen’s car. It had been less than appreciative about the rescue, trying to bite Jensen, and pissing on his leather seats.
Jensen was still a little sore about it.
Jared said he’d get over it. Eventually.
For the time being, though, he needed to grab a quick shower, get his ass over to makeup and get on set. He had to finish this reshoot tonight, because his flight to North Carolina was at five. Just thinking of it made a wave of exhaustion sweep over him.
But since he was thinking about it, he’d call the Humane Society and see if the puppy had been adopted yet. They had a two week window before they’d put him to sleep. If he hadn’t been adopted, Chad would take him back and figure something out.
Joe hadn’t liked the dog, so he couldn’t take it, but maybe he’d try with some of the crew at BSG.
A brisk voice welcomed him to the Humane Society of Canada. “Hi, I had brought a dog that I found there a couple of days ago, and I was wondering if any one had adopted him yet?” he pulled out the little slip of paper he’d written the information down on and repeated it to the woman.
There was a long pause.
“Miss?”
“Sir, I’m sorry. That dog failed to meet our adoption standards.”
“What?”
“It bit, sir. It had to be euthanized.”
Chad hung up over her explanations and stared at his phone. How did he think he could do this? Three shows? It was too much, and he was so tired, and they had killed the damn dog. He couldn’t do this.
He just couldn’t.
His breathing was coming too fast, and the world was swimming in and out of focus. He couldn’t breathe. Not enough air, and he didn’t want to die, and he couldn’t breathe, and everything hurt and was too much and who would take care of his babies? Would someone put them to sleep?
“Chad. Chad,” a voice said sharply by his ear.
He turned his head, seeing Jensen’s concerned face.
Great, of course it was Jensen. Because God hated him. And he was going to die with a guy who couldn’t stand him, and was holding a grudge about a dead dog pissing in his car.
“Would you fucking pay attention?” Jensen barked.
Chad glared, breath still coming in short hiccups. His chest hurt. Was he having a heart attack?
“Chad!” This time, the yell was accompanied by a quick slap. “Breathe. Slow it down, dude.” Jensen demonstrated, breathing slow and deep.
It took a while, but he finally was able to imitate Jensen. The pressure on his chest eased, and he started to relax a little. Maybe he wasn’t dying. He reached up to rub his face, and was surprised when his hand came away wet.
“So, you want to tell me what brought that on?”
“I can’t do this,” Chad murmured. “I’m so tired, and I can’t sleep. I close my eyes and I can only think about what I need to do, and there’s too much, and they killed the dog.”
Jensen stared at him for a moment. “Okay,” he finally said. “Get in the shower. I’m going to make some calls.”
“Fuck you.”
“Chad, you can either get in that shower, or I can strip you and hold you in there,” Jensen growled.
“I-“ His head fell forward. “Fine. Then, I have to get to makeup.”
“Whatever.”
He stumbled into the trailer’s tiny shower, letting the hot water pour over him. Normally, it helped to wake him up. Today, he spent five minutes staring at the little drain, fighting to stay awake while sleep pulsed at the corners of his vision.
“Chad?” Jared called. “You okay in there?”
Chad turned, fumbling the door open and caught a glimpse of Jared’s startled face. Then, the darkness surged, and he felt himself sliding down into its grasp.
Rating: R
Pairing: CMM/JDM
Disclaimer: This is such total bullshit. There just aren't words for it.
A/N: Previous parts of the crack can be found here.
Eight weeks. Eight weeks of flying cross country, of sleeping on bumpy flights and making do with barely any rest. Ron had requested that he bulk up a little, so any spare hours were spent at the gym, until the last vestige of Lucas Scott fading into nothing, never mind that he was still playing the little bastard.
He’d done four episodes of BSG so far. Today, they started the fifth with a bang. His first makeout scene with another guy. At least Alex was just as nervous as he was, listening to their directions wide-eyed.
He was supposed to catch Gaeta in one of the stockrooms, push him against the wall and maul him. It was a banner moment in both their careers. Y’know, if they could just stop staring at each other like deer in the headlights. At least it kept him from falling asleep on his feet like last week.
His cell phone vibrated against his hip, and Chad startled, looking down. “Sorry, phone call.”
“Go ahead,” Ron murmured. “They’ll be at least another five minutes with the lighting.
“Thanks.” He pulled out the cell, looking at the unfamiliar number. Fuck. If someone had leaked his number again, he’d kill someone. “Hello?”
“Hello,” a sweet female voice murmured. “Chad?”
“Yeah.”
“This is Mrs. Morgan. Jeff’s mom. How are you?”
“Oh. Mrs. Morgan. I’m fine. How are you?” He shook his head, as though that would help somehow. “Is everything all right?”
“Of course. With Bisou back home in LA, I missed having you over for dinner now and then, so I wanted to see what your schedule was like in the next few weeks.”
Chad blinked. “You want me to come down. For dinner.”
“Yes, sweetie. If you have time. If not, I understand. Jeff said you were going to be very busy, working on two shows. But we’d love to have you.”
Okay. It was easy to see where Jeff got his tendency towards helping strays. “Um. I’ll see what I can do. Can I call you back and let you know?”
“Of course. Did I get you at work?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, I’m sorry” she chirped. “I just wanted to call you while I was thinking about it. You sound tense, dear. Hard scene?”
“Um. Yeah, kind of. I have a…uh. An intimate scene,” he said carefully.
“Oh.” Jeff’s mother was quiet for a moment. “I guess the old ‘imagine them in their underwear would be kind of pointless, hmm?”
Chad laughed. “Yeah, a little.”
“You’ll do fine, sweetie. Do you and the co-star you’re doing the scene with get along?”
“Yes ma’am. He’s a good guy.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could kick himself. “Um. I-“
“Oh, it’s like that, then,” she laughed.
“Yeah. It is,” Chad said softly.
“Good for you,” Mrs. Morgan said firmly. “It’s on a wonderful show, so I’m sure it’s going to be a great storyline.”
“I think so,” Chad murmured.
“Good. You’ll do fine, sweetie. Just relax.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Morgan.”
“My pleasure. Okay, I’ll let you get back to work. Good luck! And don’t forget to let me know when you can come by for dinner.”
Chad hung up the phone, shaking his head. Alejandro clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, heading for the set. “Ready?”
“Yeah. I think.”
“Me either,” Alex grinned. “So, let’s go have some hot sex, right?”
Chad followed him, grin fading as they stepped onto the set. I can do this, he coached himself. It’s no different than working with any other actor. Just do your damn job.
Alex got on his mark, picking up the clipboard that Gaeta was using to inventory the fleet’s explosives, and Chad waited outside the door.
“Action!”
Chad shoved the door open, slipping into the small armory.
“Hey, you’re not supposed to be in here-“ Alex started.
Without answering, Chad stalked towards him, eyes hard, glaring. Alex dodged around the table, eyes wide. “Donegan, what the frak do you think—“
He moved quickly, hand snaking out like a striking snake, and snagged Alex’s uniform, yanking him close.
“Donegan-“
A slow, wicked smile touched Chad’s lips. “I think,” he purred, leaning close enough that Alex could feel his breath on his jaw. “That under the circumstances, you can call me James.”
Alex made the first move, turning his head and capturing Chad’s lips. It was…weird. No worse than kissing Sophia after the divorce, though. He just had to detach a little. Pretend it was someone else. Angelina Jolie, or Brad Pitt. Or both, really.
Or… Jeff.
Even as the thought flickered into his mind, Chad was reacting to it, shoving Alex into the shelves, kiss turning rougher, almost brutal. Alex was responding in kind, fingers biting into Chad’s shoulders, jerking the uniform jacket down over his arms.
Chad started to pull back, preparing to spin him, to press Alex into the countertop, but Alex’s hand curled around his neck, holding him close. Teeth nipped his lip hard, and Chad jerked back, fingers coming to his lip.
He grinned, digging his hands into Alex’s hair and spun them, lifting so that he was on the counter, and bent in, yanking Alex’s uniform open.
“And cut!”
Chad stumbled back a little, breathing hard. Alejandro didn’t seem much better off, wiping a hand over his mouth. “Wow.”
“You okay?” Chad asked. He could taste copper on his tongue. Apparently, Alex had pretty sharp damn teeth.
“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry about the biting. It just-“
“Chad, we want to get a couple shots of you stalking around the counter like that, then some of Alex backing up, then we’ll be done. I know Chad’s got reshoots across town, so we’ll knock yours out first, so you can get going.”
Chad nodded, the adrenaline slipping away. “Yeah. Okay.”
By the time Chad dragged onto the Supernatural set, the sun had long since sunk below the horizon. Jensen greeted him with a dour wave, still apparently sore about the stray he’d insisted on taking to the Humane Society…in Jensen’s car. It had been less than appreciative about the rescue, trying to bite Jensen, and pissing on his leather seats.
Jensen was still a little sore about it.
Jared said he’d get over it. Eventually.
For the time being, though, he needed to grab a quick shower, get his ass over to makeup and get on set. He had to finish this reshoot tonight, because his flight to North Carolina was at five. Just thinking of it made a wave of exhaustion sweep over him.
But since he was thinking about it, he’d call the Humane Society and see if the puppy had been adopted yet. They had a two week window before they’d put him to sleep. If he hadn’t been adopted, Chad would take him back and figure something out.
Joe hadn’t liked the dog, so he couldn’t take it, but maybe he’d try with some of the crew at BSG.
A brisk voice welcomed him to the Humane Society of Canada. “Hi, I had brought a dog that I found there a couple of days ago, and I was wondering if any one had adopted him yet?” he pulled out the little slip of paper he’d written the information down on and repeated it to the woman.
There was a long pause.
“Miss?”
“Sir, I’m sorry. That dog failed to meet our adoption standards.”
“What?”
“It bit, sir. It had to be euthanized.”
Chad hung up over her explanations and stared at his phone. How did he think he could do this? Three shows? It was too much, and he was so tired, and they had killed the damn dog. He couldn’t do this.
He just couldn’t.
His breathing was coming too fast, and the world was swimming in and out of focus. He couldn’t breathe. Not enough air, and he didn’t want to die, and he couldn’t breathe, and everything hurt and was too much and who would take care of his babies? Would someone put them to sleep?
“Chad. Chad,” a voice said sharply by his ear.
He turned his head, seeing Jensen’s concerned face.
Great, of course it was Jensen. Because God hated him. And he was going to die with a guy who couldn’t stand him, and was holding a grudge about a dead dog pissing in his car.
“Would you fucking pay attention?” Jensen barked.
Chad glared, breath still coming in short hiccups. His chest hurt. Was he having a heart attack?
“Chad!” This time, the yell was accompanied by a quick slap. “Breathe. Slow it down, dude.” Jensen demonstrated, breathing slow and deep.
It took a while, but he finally was able to imitate Jensen. The pressure on his chest eased, and he started to relax a little. Maybe he wasn’t dying. He reached up to rub his face, and was surprised when his hand came away wet.
“So, you want to tell me what brought that on?”
“I can’t do this,” Chad murmured. “I’m so tired, and I can’t sleep. I close my eyes and I can only think about what I need to do, and there’s too much, and they killed the dog.”
Jensen stared at him for a moment. “Okay,” he finally said. “Get in the shower. I’m going to make some calls.”
“Fuck you.”
“Chad, you can either get in that shower, or I can strip you and hold you in there,” Jensen growled.
“I-“ His head fell forward. “Fine. Then, I have to get to makeup.”
“Whatever.”
He stumbled into the trailer’s tiny shower, letting the hot water pour over him. Normally, it helped to wake him up. Today, he spent five minutes staring at the little drain, fighting to stay awake while sleep pulsed at the corners of his vision.
“Chad?” Jared called. “You okay in there?”
Chad turned, fumbling the door open and caught a glimpse of Jared’s startled face. Then, the darkness surged, and he felt himself sliding down into its grasp.