[FIC] Words Are Loaded Pistols, Use Them At Your Peril - Chp 4

[cryforthemoon.livejournal.com]

Title: Words are loaded pistols, use them at your peril.
Author: cryforthemoon and psykotropik
Rating:  PG-13
Main Character(s): Tony Slattery and John Sessions
Summary: This is the fourth chapter in our story. This is held around and after the ninth episode of the first series, in 1988. 
These stories are an insight as to what went on behind the scenes, perhaps explaining some of the onstage behaviour, and off stage affairs that were adored and displayed by the press.
Notes: Sorry it's been so long between the last chapter and this one. I (cryforthemoon) am terrible at maintenance.

Chapter 3, Part B

***

As they walked off the set, the audience cheering and whooping, John placed a hand on the small of Tony's back and leaned in. "Have I mentioned just how much I adore your author choices?" he murmured, pressing a kiss to the other man's cheek

"Hmmm, no.... maybe you should remind me" he replied, looking at John with a little smile on his face, waiting until no one was in the corridor. His smile grew a little more as he turned to look at John. "Where are we heading now?"

"Well," John's face took on a slightly devious look; he backed Tony against the wall and slid his hand up to stroke his fingers against the back of the other man's neck. "I was thinking that we could go for a drink, then back to mine - I need a shave and another jacket." He leaned in for a kiss.

"I quite like the new rugged John" he smiled against the mans lips, looking into his eyes. As his lips were about to embrace Johns, there came the sound of a closing door from down the hall. Tony went to turn his head, hitting it off the wall accidently in a rush to see who was there, only to see Clive with a curious expression on his face.

John leapt away from Tony as fast as if he'd been electrocuted. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to look innocent and giving Clive his most winning smile. "All right? Just, er, trying out a scene." He gestured at Tony. "So, er, no! No coffee! You, er," he faltered at the look on Tony's face. "Um."

Clive just smiled and shook his head, walking past the two. He muttered to himself "Well I never...."

Tony offered a small smile to John. "Is your heart... you know" he whispered, patting his own chest. "Racing?"

John watched Clive walking away. He could swear he heard soft laughter and looked at Tony, worried. "You don't think he'll mention it in the show? Shit, what is someone in the press finds out?"

"Who cares what the bloody press think" he said, snapping his own head to the side and looking down as he did. He looked back at John and walked him back against the opposite wall, pinning him there. "Clive's not going to say a thing and you know it... so stop being so scared"

"I'm not scared, I'm being logical!" John growled and pushed Tony away harder than he'd be meaning to. "You might not care, but I bloody well do. Imagine what would happen if it hadn't been Clive who saw us just now. What if it'd been some runner keeping an ear out for any behind-the-scenes gossip? I'd be dropped from the programme and the whole thing would be hushed up." He paused and rubbed a hand over his face, not looking at the other man. "It'd ruin both of us."

"For once in my life, maybe I didn't give a toss" he replied, dusting off his jacket, looking over at John. "And maybe for once in your life, you should stop giving a toss too..."

"I can't, for crying out loud! I've built up a fucking image - do you really think I can afford to fuck it up?" John gestured at Tony, still not looking at his directly. "You've got some ambiguous thing going on, which you somehow get away with, but I don't. Stephen said he thought I was completely straight until - " he broke off and looked even more uncomfortable.

"Until what..." he questioned, walking over to him and grabbing his chin a little to forcefully, bringing Johns face up to look at his own. "Look at me and talk, don't turn away"

"Does it really matter?" John glanced at Tony's face before flicking his eyes to look at a patch of wall over Tony's left shoulder. "It was a one-off, if you must know. We had a quick fling, something which I'm sure you know something about."

"Tell me anyway... just incase" he said, making John look into his eyes, forcing his chin to the side a little again. His tone had lost all it's jollyness, it's perkiness.... it almost sounded cold now... but worried. "Keep talking..."

"For God's sake, why're you being so possessive all of a sudden?" John hissed, aware of how their situation could look to anyone walking past. "It was a quick bit of relief - not even long enough to be a one-night stand, seeing as I left shortly after he fell asleep. Now let go!" He pushed Tony again, this time not bothering about how much force he put into it.

Tony straightened himself up and looked down at the floor. "You're right..." he said slowly. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't be..." he paused and flinched a little, eyes closed as he did. "I shouldn't be like this..." Why did John seem to be having this effect on him?

"No, you shouldn't." John sighed. "I think we might've been seeing too much of each other. Maybe we should just postpone that drink. Like I said, I need to go home, change my jacket. I'm sure you could do with a bit of time by yourself, too."

"For the first time in my life I was able to lie next to someone and just sleep... you have no idea how much that means, John..." he said slowly, looking at the man opposite him helplessly. "Please.... don't walk away... not now..." he paused as he heard a door open and one of the camera crew went dashing down the hall, offering them both a smile each.

"I'm not walking away, Tony. I'm just...that cameraman who just went by." John gestured down the hall in the direction the cameraman had gone. "He could easily have seen us ten minutes before and before you knew what'd hit you there'd be headlines on the front page of half the tabloids. I can't take that sort of risk." John closed his eyes, not wanting to see the stark interior with Tony as its centre any longer. "Let's just cool things down a bit, ok? I'll probably see you next series, seeing as you're so good at this."

Tony dipped his head and laughed softly. "Next series... next series..." he repeated, shaking his head. Tony looked up towards John. "When will that be? Six months? A year? All you give a toss about is your career..." he said, his smile turning into a frown. "At least I was right. Love is a waste of bloody time..." he said, turning around.

Love? 

"Tony, wait." John reached out a hand. "I'm sorry. Please don't leave things like this."

"Don't even bother.... I wouldn't want to scar your career" he said stopping in his tracks, looking over his shoulder only a touch.

John let his hand drop, Tony's comment hurting more than it should have. "I'm sorry," he repeated softly. "I...never mind. Forget it."

His heart racing in his chest, his fingers rubbing together, hands by his sides, he tried his best to stay frowning. He shook his head a little at an angle, his frown fading. "Why don't we just go somewhere and talk?" he suggested slowly, turning around to look at John. "Instead of standing around in the hall...."

John shook his head. "I don't think that's really wise. Maybe we can meet up in the next week, have a drink. I still want to know you."

Tony bit the inside of his lip and just smiled a little. "Next week... yeah..." he waited a second, his smile fading. "Like bloody hell you still want to know me..." he said, turning around and walking away from John. "Go back to theatre... you can get away with being as camp as you bloody please" he called as he left.

A surge of anger rose up and John nearly shouted something at Tony's retreating back. He didn't bother. He leaned against the wall, screwing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered, wondering if banging his head back would flake the paint and if he'd have to pay for a new coat of whatever harsh shade of white it was. "Fuck," he repeated, not seeing a door open and Dan suddenly appearing.

"Dan." He opened his eyes and gave the show's producer a strained smile. "'Course I'll be here. You look like you're dying to tell me, so come on. Who have we got for the last taping?"

"Enn Reitel, Josie Lawrence" he said, looking at his clipboard, "And... you'll love this..." he said, pausing and stretching out the tension. "Stephen Fry"

John looked at Dan, shocked out of his inner depression. "Stephen's coming back on?"

"For the last show, yes" he chirped. "Don't let me down now, John" he smiled before darting off. "Must dash, alot to do"

John watched Dan walking briskly away and closed his eyes again. After the argument with Tony, the resurfacing memories of his fling with Stephen and the news that Stephen would be coming back on the show, there was only one course of action he could take.

Bugger the paint. "Fuck!"

 

Comments

[eh-eh-ehh.livejournal.com]

*squeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaakkkkk*

Absolutely gorgeous...

[cryforthemoon.livejournal.com]

*does a happy dance and gives you a towel*

[psykotropik.livejournal.com]

Thanking you very muchly little kitten pie =^_^=

[corliamat.livejournal.com]

Oh dear, trouble at mill. Still...I have a fondness for the idea of Stephen/John, especially since seeing V for Vendetta yesterday.

Poor Tony tho.

[cryforthemoon.livejournal.com]

Ooh, is V any good?

[corliamat.livejournal.com]

Bloody fantastic film. Hugo Weaving was his usual jaw-dropping self and Stephen looked rather yummy I thought.

The whole thing was just brill.

[cryforthemoon.livejournal.com]

Thanks. I badly wanted to see it, but, eh, circumstances dictated to the contrary. I'll hope it's in Blockbuster :D

[corliamat.livejournal.com]

Yes, 'cause downloading it from BTjunkie and watching on your computer is a naughty bad way to see it. *whistles innocently*

[cryforthemoon.livejournal.com]

*chuckles* It is rather ;D

[emely-chan.livejournal.com]

Oh, no. I wanted to comment on this for days but I didn't ... *hides her face in a paper bag*

Okay. Now, that I'm finished with my self-abusing let's go on with the real comment. ^_^

I think you are awesome and so is this fic! *hugs the two of you 'till you get problems breathing* *hugs the two of you*

This chapter is sad... I feel bad for both of them. John, who can't seem to do anything right and Tony with, well...does " a broken heart" fit it? Oh dear.

Tony dipped his head and laughed softly. "Next series... next series..." he repeated, shaking his head. Tony looked up towards John. "When will that be? Six months? A year? All you give a toss about is your career..." he said, his smile turning into a frown. "At least I was right. Love is a waste of bloody time..." he said, turning around. Awwww. This. Is. So. Sad. I sat there and thought "Poor one...". WHY!?

Um...I got a bit carried away, didn't I? *chuckles* Well, that simply suits me. Keep going, you two! :)

[cryforthemoon.livejournal.com]

You terrible, terrible person *giggles* No worries, I'm horribly behind in commenting, too.

*hugs back* Thank you! All Psykotropic's work that you've quoted - she's brill ^^

[emely-chan.livejournal.com]

I've been meaning to quote some of your stuff, too, but I just couldn't decide. ;)