Tom Levitt

broadwaypianoman:

Not really…

“I’m sorry, I mean…” Another shrug. “I’m tired and…you know. It’s just…” Oh, god, why can’t I just stop talking?! “…Derek should be the one to tell you. But I can promise — “ Okay, almost promise. “ — that nothing happened tonight that could be considered infidelity on his part.”

This isn’t helping! Ivy bit her lip to keep from screaming. Maybe Tom’s right. Maybe I really don’t want to know —

“So, not tonight, but on other nights, right? He’s seeing someone on another night?”

“I don’t know!” Tom snapped back before this could go any more off the rails that it already had. “I mean, I’m not with Derek 24/7, so I don’t know who he’s seeing — “ It suddenly dawned on him that he was making this worse — if that was even possible — so he abruptly shut his mouth. After a moment to compose his thoughts, he tried again.

broadwaypianoman:

It was slightly unnerving with Ivy and her belly looming over him. Is she trying to intimidate me? he wondered. Or garner sympathy? How can I say ‘no’ to a pregnant woman…

“You’ve got a point,” he admitted. “But Derek seemed pretty sincere when he promised to talk to you. And I told him to do it soon, not wait like he did with the Bombshell thing. If he doesn’t, I’ll tell you.” He shrugged as best as he could lying down. “It’s just…the stuff in the past. Nothing that’ll affect you, right? Maybe it’s best if you don’t know…”

Aaaargh!! Why did I say that?! He hastily sat up and tried to backpedal.

“…I mean, you know what they say, ignorance is bliss…”

Ivy narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to one side. Maybe it’s best if I don’t know?! “You wanna try that again?”

Not really…

broadwaypianoman:

I doubt that, Ivy thought. You’re just making it more complicated. But why? Why protect Derek? Moving was awkward in her current condition and falling backward on the bed as Tom had was out of the question. So she maneuvered around until she could perpendicular to him. Legs crossed, she stared at him over her pregnant belly.

“Which you know he won’t do,” she said. “So you need to tell me.”

It was slightly unnerving with Ivy and her belly looming over him. Is she trying to intimidate me? he wondered. Or garner sympathy? How can I say ‘no’ to a pregnant woman…

“You’ve got a point,” he admitted. “But Derek seemed pretty sincere when he promised to talk to you. And I told him to do it soon, not wait like he did with the Bombshell thing. If he doesn’t, I’ll tell you.” He shrugged as best as he could lying down. “It’s just…the stuff in the past. Nothing that’ll affect you, right? Maybe it’s best if you don’t know…”

Aaaargh!! Why did I say that?! He hastily sat up and tried to backpedal.

“Yeah, I know…” Ivy frowned, trying not to jump to any conclusions…even if the conclusions were pretty obvious. But Tom was right; for better and for worse, Derek came with a lengthy list of prior conquests. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t have much choice of accepting it if she wanted a relationship with him. She sighed and sat down next to Tom on the bed. “So you guess ran into one of his exes tonight — right? Is that why you’re both acting so weird?”

Well, that was easier than I expected, Ivy thought as soon as Tom started blabbing. She wheeled around and glared, hands on her hips.

“‘Except?’” She raised an eyebrow. “‘Except’ what, Tom? Just what am I thinking?”

“Oh — “ Shit! Why did I say that?! “No, there’s no ‘except.’ I don’t know what I meant. I didn’t mean… I — “

It was no use. He wilted almost immediately under Ivy’s death glare. Shoulders slumped, he walked into the guest room and sat on the edge of the bed.

broadwaypianoman:

“Uh, yeah…” Tom was still in the kitchen and now slumped down against the counter, trying to will himself to disappear. “Or I can sleep down here on the couch. It’s okay…”

“Not a chance,” Ivy said and her tone was one that dared anyone to cross her. She crossed to where Tom was trying to hide and placed her hand on his shoulder to prevent him from slipping away. “Come on. I’ll show you up. We’ve redecorated recently, but I think the room is still set up.”

“Uh, really, it’s no problem,” Tom stammered, even though he knew there would be no arguing with Ivy. He could feel Derek’s eyes on him — half threatening, half pleading — and he tried to muster a resolute, ‘I won’t say a word’ look in return as Ivy ushered him towards the stairs. He followed her to the second floor and remained ready to catch her should she topple backwards down the stairs. Ivy seemed to move surprisingly fast for a very pregnant woman.

derekwills:

lastblondebombshell:

Had Derek not outright dismissed her concern, had he shown the teeniest bit of empathy — like a normal human being would’ve — she wouldn’t gone with it. She was tired, he was drunk, so not much would happen, but it would’ve been nice to just fall asleep in his arms. The way his voice sent a shiver down her spine, it was tempting…But no. She deftly wriggled out of his grasp.

“But what kind of hosts would we be?” she asked, mock indignant. “Go on up. I’ll get Tom settled in the guest room.”

“Tom knows where the guest room is.” A somewhat panicked glare and a nod. “Don’t you, Tom?”

derekwills:

“Right,” Derek jumped in, cutting off Tom’s babbling with a glare before turning to Ivy. “So, you see? No need for you to worry.” An eyebrow raised in concern as he sauntered over to her. “You weren’t worried, were you? Because you’re not supposed to worry…”

Oh, give me a break! Ivy wanted to scream. You stopped answering your phone, you didn’t call, you — Maybe it was woman’s intuition or some heightened sense developed from impending motherhood — or, more likely, because both Tom and Derek were terrible liars — but she knew they were hiding something. It was obvious, but, as confident as she was in it, she knew she wouldn’t get them to own up to anything. Not when they were together. As any good interrogator knew, it was best to question suspects separately and then compare stories.

And go after the weakest one, she thought to herself. Which would definitely be Tom. As painful as it would be, she couldn’t imagine Tom hiding infidelity from her. So what were they doing?!

For tonight, it wasn’t worth arguing over, worth making something out of nothing — if it really was nothing. With a sigh, Ivy met Derek as he sauntered over towards her. She reached for him and didn’t resist when he pulled her into his arms.

“Of course I was worried,” she pouted. “I thought something bad had happened, like you’d been in an accident or — ” You’d ‘accidentally’ fallen into bed with some random woman. “ — or something.”

lastblondebombshell:

Ivy knew it wouldn’t do her any good to say she hadn’t heard Derek and Tom come in or that she hadn’t noticed how late they were. Her frantic text history would counter any claim of disinterest on her part and, besides, Derek knew her too well. That they came in together reassured her somewhat, but not entirely. If Derek wan’t to chase some pretty young thing that caught his eye, he wouldn’t be dissuaded by Tom’s presence. She shrugged, ignoring the question, and gave both men a withering glare.

“Where were you all night?”

“Brooklyn,” Derek replied with a shrug. “Or maybe Queens. I can’t really tell the difference. Tom and I had a few things to sort between us — “ A sideways warning glance in Tom’s direction. “ — right? It took awhile, but we’re good now.”

lastblondebombshell:

It’s nothing. It’s nothing. Ivy stole another glance at her phone. He’s fine. Everything is fine. Just… fine.

Derek hadn’t responded to her texts or answered his phone for hours. The last she had heard, he was at some pub in Brooklyn with Tom. Had Tom himself not confirmed the alibi, she never would’ve believed it. And, while it had been age since Derek had checked in, Tom was also incommunicado. So maybe it wasn’t as bad as she thought.

But… that was hours ago. Surely they aren’t together still!

Derek might ignore her texts if he was with someone — !lthough, to be honest, unless he’s on set or in rehearsal, he’s been good with responding lately —  but Tom wouldn’t ignore them.

Unless he’s hiding something from me, in which case he totally would. She lay in bed, trying to get comfortable, alternating between not checking her phone and browsing Broadway Twitter for any mention of — No. I’m not going to do this. I’m not going to think like this.

Sleep was impossible and she didn’t even try… but, at some point, she thought she’d managed to drift off because she heard Derek’s voice and there was no way he was home. Ivy sat up and, then, not only did she hear Derek shouting, but Tom, as well, and the *ding* of the elevator.

So much for sneaking in, she thought and, for some reason, that brought her comfort. She climbed out of bed and picked up bits of the conversation — and she felt that ineffable uneasy feeling creep over over. Ivy stood at the bottom of the main stairs, arms crossed over her chest — which was not an easy feat considering how pregnant she was. She stared at Tom and Derek for a moment, then raised an eyebrow and asked, “‘We don’t tell Ivy’ — what?”

“Darling!” Derek immediately put his glass down and smiled as brightly as one could at 3am. He gave a quick, pointed ‘I told you to be quiet’ look to Tom and then said, “I hope you weren’t waiting up.”

Derek smiled, trying to hide how relieved he truly was. Tom could’ve stormed out, could’ve left him in limbo, left him without a confirmable alibi when he faced Ivy. Or, worse, he could’ve made Derek beg — again.

And I would, he thought. I would’ve gotten on my knees and bloody begged him to stay and give me an alibi. But none of that would be necessary. He tapped his glass to Tom’s and the gesture tacitly solidified their agreement.

“We don’t tell Ivy.”

“Gladly.” Derek said with a nod. He was more than happy to let that particular subject go unacknowledged. He topped off his own glass and then poured a few inches of Glenlivet into a second glass. He glanced up at Tom. “So…”

Tom took a moment to interpret Derek’s gesture. The drink wasn’t exactly proffered, but he recognized that it had been poured for him. He didn’t know if it was conspiratorial or conciliatory, but obviously all the other stuff he’d babbled was going to be ignored. Derek wanted them to be on the same page regarding Ivy and what had happened earlier.

I’m too sober for this, Derek thought in response to both Tom’s fawning and the potential confrontation with Ivy. He hastily retreated to the kitchen and his private stash of booze to remedy the situation. The liquor cabinet was unlocked — it usually was and he knew this was a habit he’d need to break in the name of childproofing — and he quickly retrieved a bottle and a cut-glass tumbler. He poured and sipped, only peripherally aware that Tom was still going on about… Well, not something Derek wanted to give actual thought to. He waited for a break and, when one didn’t come quickly enough, interrupted.

“Are you done babbling now?”

Did he even hear a word I said? Tom wondered. Was the interruption prompted by a desire to stop the conversation from veering into uncomfortable territory or, more likely, just Derek’s usual short attention span? Tom decided it was probably the latter, but it was best if he pretended that he hadn’t suggested he had ever entertained any non-platonic thoughts about Derek. This was weird enough already. What more is there to say?

She’s in bed, he thought. Good. Or maybe bad… I don’t — And then Tom was pressing up behind him, trying to wrestle him to the ground. What — ?! Instinctively, he reached for the door frame and managed to stop the forward momentum just in time. The thought of going face-first into the marble foyer floor was bad enough, but doing so with Tom on top of him would be beyond mortifying. As soon as he was steady, he turned and shoved Tom away.

“What the fucking hell are you doing?!” He didn’t wait for a response. “No! Ivy’s right upstairs.” Oh, yes, Ivy…. He turned and headed into the apartment, towards the kitchen and his bar, muttering, “I said be quiet.”

What? It took a moment — and a hard shove — for it to sink in, but when he did, Tom’s first reaction was to laugh. Loudly. He caught himself and pointed out, “I’m not the one shouting.” He smirked even though Derek was already halfway down the hall. He followed, still giggling over the rather ludicrous — Well, maybe not so — No! — idea that Derek assumed the clumsy step was some kind of seduction attempt. Homophobic, narcissistic ass… Why does Ivy bother? And why do I?

The chime of the elevator door jolted Derek out of the drowsy state he’d lapsed into during the ride up. It seemed louder than usual, almost echoing throughout his dark apartment. He turned to glare at Tom out of habit and then unlocked the front door. He stepped in and then abruptly paused just inside. There was a lamp on in the living room and he listened for any sound, any indication, Ivy was still awake.

Off of Derek’s undeserved glare, Tom’s mouth dropped open, indignant. “It’s your elevator! I don’t control the — “

But Derek was already gone. Tom started to pursue, assuming he would continue on into apartment….so he didn’t expect him to stop right in the doorway. He realized it a moment too late, stumbling and catching Derek’s jacket to keep both of them from toppling into the foyer.

“Right then…” Derek managed to smile, but he wasn’t exactly reassured. He didn’t think Tom would intentionally blab to Ivy the moment they walked in, but… He’s horrible at keeping secrets. Maybe she’ll be asleep…. Maybe… He glanced over his shoulder as he walked to the garage’s lift. “Don’t forget to be quiet.”