#biadore

“Who knew a C-list celebrity would have to go out THIS much,” Danny fussed into his cocktail the following Wednesday night. “Why, I’m missing I’ve Got a Secret.”

He put his glass down, examined the area around him and realized that yet again, nobody at the table had been paying attention to him. 

He felt the corners of his mouth twisting into a pout, but he knew if he let it show he’d just be giving in to those same feelings of inadequacy he did in Azusa. 

‘You’re better now,’ he reminded himself.

“I say, doll…” He tried running his fingers along Jinx's knuckles, earning a dismissive wave of her manicured hand with the cigarette between her fingers. His tone rose in frustration as he tried her again, “I SAID, Jinkx, I’m missing this week’s I’ve Got a Secret! And I heard a rumor Lana Turner is gonna be on this week to talk about her daught-“

His whining got halted by an eruption of raucous laughter from the table of cronies who’d just been ignoring him. Making snide remarks under their drunken giggles about the sort of people who follow those fanatic magazines full of false stories.

“Stop being such a girl about it,” she said, poking a sore spot. “Go fetch me another drink and I’ll make up for whatever little show you’re missing later. Deal?” she purred into his ear, giving him a peck on the cheek.

He groaned under his breath, unamused by the gaggle of girls swooning over Jinkx yet again, but he decided to swallow his pride. 

He stood up with a heavy sigh and put-upon smile, giving her hand a small kiss to feign forgiveness. “Why of course, dear. Right away.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Roy and Raja clucked in unison as he approached them by the bar, the pair like a flock of hungry vultures watching the group by the table. The only hungry vultures, it seemed, who bothered entertaining him these days, as Jinkx’s debut as Essie Whimple drew closer.

The same vultures he’d avoided like the plague before, but he’d finally settled in, finally stopped staring into the mirror trying to find what was wrong with him - mostly. He still felt a certain sense of unease around Roy specifically but he seemingly couldn’t care less anymore about, well, you know. Their little misunderstanding. 

“I say, well handled, son,”  Roy mocked. Placing a proud hand on his shoulder, his other hand clutching his dark maroon tie as if he was Jim Anderson himself. “A happy wife is a happy life, right, my boy?”

“Get bent.” Danny tried acting serious, paying no mind to Roy cackling loudly at his own joke.

“Forget Bozo here, I’ll get that drink for you while I’m back here.” Raja, who was most definitely breaking at least 3 work place rules, took Jinkx’s empty wine glass and refilled it.

“You staying a while? I heard some serious scoop on tonight’s episode of I've Got a Secret.” Roy leaned over the bar where the three of them could gossip.

“No!” Danny gasped, following suit, taking the already poured red wine originally intended for Jinkx as his own. “Is it Lana Turner?”

“What? No. It’s Walter Slezak, and I heard…Lana T-“ he interrupted himself to sneer at Danny in bewilderment. “Lana Turner? Who gave you that idea?”

Danny flashed a scowl at Raja, who was casually whistling in the opposite direction to avoid eye contact before Roy’s words sank in.

“Walter Slezak!” Raja and Danny’s eyes went wide in unison.

Raja enthusiastically slapped Danny’s hand like a giddy secretary with some juicy story about the boss. “Boy, he’s amazing. Did you catch him in Born to Kill?”

“Wasn’t he great?”

“To die for,” she swooned. “Did you see him in Lifeboat? Gave me chills for weeks - oof.” She shuddered, an imaginary shiver running down her spine.

“Like this?” Roy teased, sliding an ice cube down the exposed back of her signature gold fitted dress. 

“Fucking - piece of shit!” she hissed at him, trying to keep her voice down. Luckily the rest of the bar was too lively with music, Danny the only one close enough to actually hear her shrieks. She turned to him, growling, “If you laugh, so help me!”

“I didn’t -“ Danny tried defending himself with his hands raised, but his loud belly laughing got the better of him. Raja playfully threw the ice cube in his direction, not helping curb his amusement, making her break face too.

“Raja! There’s people waiting by the door, go take their coats!” Kameron, one of the busgirls, whistled in their direction when she passed with a tray of empty plates from the dining hall.

“Ugh.” Raja dropped her cheery disposition, slugging the last of her Chardonnay. “Coming!”

She waved another finger in their direction as a threat, muttering some more, presumably obscenities, in a language Danny couldn’t recognize, and sauntered off to go greet the newest clientele for the evening. Leaving our little protagonist and his friend at the bar alone.

This wasn’t a rare occurrence though. In fact, it had become his favorite part of the day, ever since Roy agreed to keep his little secret. Some days, he’d satisfy himself just being there to watch Roy mingle with folks. Even when he was doing his own mingling with the Broadway elites (and elite followers) by Jinkx’s side. Playing her little show poodle when she required a domestic air for an interview or meeting. 

They’d always at least manage to catch each other's eye and give a sympathetic smile.

“Gosh,” he sighed, content, noticing a hint of Roy’s dimples as he greeted a regular customer waving from another table. 

He really was so devastatingly beautiful. It was hard not to see him as the picture-perfect man, with his devil-may-care attitude and utterly fashionable taste in clothes. The catalyst for their friendly banter was that Roy would always fill him in on that night’s episodes he missed, or behind the scenes tidbits he’d heard from industry friends.

It started that very night last week, at the table while they waited for everyone to return. Roy made a joke about Danny’s hands being smaller than Katherine Hepburn’s in an attempt to lighten the mood. Clearly, he wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of questions regarding the movie star, nor the ungodly amount of fan trivia he seemed to know about her and her fellow celebrities. 

Their conversation and gossiping lasted well into the night once Jinkx’s new director left, even after they made their way over to a group of club singers so Jinkx could catch up with her former coworkers.

“Beg pardon?” Roy turned around, hearing the little escaped whisper.

“Nothing,” he smiled, innocence dripping from every pore.

“Yeah riiiiight…” Roy dragged out, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re not playing with a full deck, are you?”

“Oh yeah?” Danny huffed, “well uh…” 

‘Dammit!’ He tried to remember any, literally any single reasonable response to his but his impulse for childish comebacks got the better of him. 

“I think somebody blew your pilot light out, Haylock.” He crossed his arms and dropped himself against the bar. Unknowingly sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.

“They did what?” Roy slapped the table. He burst out into a loud laughing fit with his hand on his chest. “My -“ 

“You’ve got splinters in the windmill of your mind!” Danny reiterated, his confidence growing every time Roy’s laugh would pick up again.

“I’m too drunk for this shit,” Roy exhaled, trying to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Well then,” Danny reached over for a new glass under the counter. “Fill her up, let’s even it out.”

“Ooooh,” Roy pursed his lips, tutting and shaking his head. “That’s not such a good idea there, partner.”

“Oh yeah? Why not? Scared I can out-drink you?”

Danny felt brave, irresponsibly brave. Like just maybe he might be able to actually turn his night around, maybe even finally see the always-put-together Roy properly hammered. No pun intended, of course.

Sure, he’d probably be late for work again in the morning, but he could always find a special way to make up for that.

Or better yet, maybe he’d have to spend the whole day ‘recovering’ with Roy. Just the two of them…

‘What am I thinking?’ he panicked when he realized what he was fantasizing about.

“Hello?” Roy tapped his index finger on Danny’s forehead. “Knock knock, your drink’s ready.”

“Right.” Danny practically inhaled the scotch Roy had given him. It burned all the way down to his stomach.

“Fucking hell -“ Roy started but another small chuckle interrupted his words. “Now who’s the one playing hockey with a warped puck?”

“What does that one even mean?” Danny giggled, already feeling his bravery being replaced by downright giddiness.

“It means, clean your own damn house before you come clean mine.” Roy stood serious. His hands against the bar as if he was waiting for Danny to come back with another retort. 

“Huh?”

Roy leaned in closer whispering, “it means you’re lucky you’re cute because you definitely ain’t smart.”

Danny’s heart shot straight up to his throat. Unsure how to process or what to say when all he could feel was his head going dizzy and his cheeks growing warm. 

He even debated another snippy comeback when suddenly, a lightbulb went off above Roy’s head. 

“Say! Lady Bunny just got a television set in her office, I could sneak you in to go watch the episode-”

Without missing a beat, Danny sprang up, ready to bolt towards the back room, only stopped by his mother’s voice in his head.

‘You need to stop getting so worked up about everything, people will think you’re some mental deficit!’

He covered his open mouth with a cough and pretended to straighten his pants.

“Well?” Roy slammed his drink down and slapped him on the flat of his back, asking, “Do you need a pistol shot or something? Go! Hurry!”

‘To hell with her,’ he stood up for himself.

And just like that, they were off, scurrying to the back office without a second thought about Jinkx, her drink, or the laughing lackeys still keeping her attention.

“Wait…No...” Roy tilted his head in confusion when a loud moan echoed from behind the big red door, just as he was about to turn the handle. “Is that…?”

“It can’t be…” Danny failed to hide a giggle. “It actually worked.”

Roy scrunched his forehead, concentrating with his ear to the door. Confirming it with a placid, “Courtney.” 

“Well yeah, and Dan.”

“Who the -'' Roy realized how loud they were speaking, changing his tone to an aggressive whisper, “Who the fuck is Dan?”

“Dan P. Donigan! My boss!” he declared, lowering his own voice too. 

“Why’s your boss banging my Courtney?” Roy asked, clearly somewhat amused by this revelation

“I needed to make up for the days I missed!”

“What?” Roy tilted his head.

“I had to make up for the day I missed with you, and…some others,” he mumbled, “and when I let it slip to Courtney she said she could soften him up for me before I apologized,” Danny clarified as if this was a reasonable answer.

“Which I’m assuming was tonight?” 

Suddenly Danny felt like he was being interrogated by a school principal. “Yes, sir…”

“Hey!” Roy prodded a finger into his chest, making him wince, his teeth snared. “Stop pimping out MY slut to your coworkers!”

“I’m not! I’m pimping out MY coworkers to your slut!” He watched Roy’s expression intently. Trying to piece together what was happening in his mind as his brows stayed contorted in anger but his lips softened into a stifled grin. 

“You two, heaven help me.” Roy gave in, rubbing his eyes. Gesturing with his head and a pat on Danny’s back towards the bar. “C'mon, I’ll make you a drink.”

Before they could reach the bar, Raja grabbed his attention while Roy rushed to make up for the orders he missed. 

“What? What’d I do?” Danny stumbled a bit thanks to how hard she yanked on his sleeve.  

“Nothin’, Jinkxy just left. She said sorry she missed you but she’s going to an after party with those little devils that follow her,” Raja casually said while gesturing with her fingers towards the bar. 

“Oh...” Danny blinked. His eyes trailed across the lounge part of the bar, examining every spot he usually found Jinkx in, but she really had left without him.

“Thank you, baby.” Raja’s voice interrupted his focused scanning. The familiar clink of the glasses on the serving tray telling him he’d been zoned out at least long enough for Raja to reach Roy, place the drink order and Roy to make it. 

“If anyone complains, tell them it took so long because we wanted to get a fresh bottle for them or some shit.” 

“Guess I’m not invited.” Danny dropped onto one of the barstools, feeling suddenly like he did in middle school when he’d get picked last in gym class.

He gazed longingly at the door like a lost puppy waiting for its owner to return to the shelter, his mood dropping nearly as low as his slumped shoulders.

“You didn’t want to go anyway,” Roy reminded him, rolling his eyes, wiping down the bar. 

He was right. But Danny was much too proud to admit it, obviously. 

“I suppose…” 

Dammit.

Roy, despite his best attempt at a hard exterior, did that thing again where he’d soften his approach whenever Danny grew wistful. 

“Forget it. I’ll make you something on the house. What’s your poison tonight?”

“You hopefully,” slipped from Danny’s mouth before his brain had time to filter it.

“What?”

“What?” He quickly coughed, trying to save what he could from the situation as if his throat was too dry to finish the sentence. Gesturing feebly to his collar. “What…ever, you can make the fastest.”

He spun around on his barstool slowly, trying to remain casual as he made eye contact with Roy, assuming he’d turn back to the bar.

Instead, he had once again caught him in a staring contest, his eyes narrowed. Clearly not buying whatever bullshit Danny was trying to sell him. 

‘God, his eyes are beautiful…’ he thought absentmindedly. 

Lost in the deep browns of his eyes he tried his best to fight against swooning, wondering if he’d pick up on it. But how could he not see it?

Roy was so focused on watching him, Danny began to feel like the last piece of turkey on Thanksgiving dinner. Surely he knew what he was doing, surely he wanted—

“That your boss?” Roy nodded his head, snapping Danny back to reality. His face was pulled in an odd confusion, as if he was trying to figure out what Courtney saw in him.

“Where?” Danny swung the stool in the direction of Bunny’s office.

“He’s smiling pretty big; if I was a betting man, I’d say you’re off the hook,” Roy started but Danny was still trying to find Dan in the wrong direction. He grabbed his head and turned him towards the entrance. “Over there you idiot!”

“Wait, is he really smiling?” he perked up, finally the right way. Just in time to catch Courtney kiss Dan goodbye before he smugly plopped his hat on his head and swagger out with all the overconfidence of a cat who just ate the canary, the cage and the goldfish for good measure.

“Atta girl, Court!” he cheered, after Dan finally walked out.

“Yep…at-ta girl.” Roy sarcastically clapped in her direction. 

“Details, all the details!” he exclaimed, waving her over.

“Yeah, come here, my little Court-esan.” Roy curled his index finger inwards, beckoning to her as if she was a rotten child walking towards a spanking. “Come tell me what you did this time.”

Although he acted pretty peeved, Danny could tell Roy didn’t mean it. In all his time there, and in all the different ways he’d heard or seen Courtney getting screwed, never once had Roy made a mean remark about it. 

In fact, he’d never seen him make any harsh (untrue) comments towards her like he often did with others. Calling a performer’s voice one night a dead ringer for ‘What can only be described as how syphilis sores feels.’

No, the two of them must’ve been old friends. It was obvious, not just by their banter and affectionate little pets but the way Roy seemed so protective over her. Like an older brother or even a father figure would be. 

He also came to the conclusion that of the three of them, SHE might’ve been the best read. It was almost impressive how she floated about between lovers and managed to carry on the most interesting conversations known to man in one breath. Only stopping to powder her nose between the two.

For all their teasing, he had to give it to her. She wasn’t a slut, she was just built that way. Good for her.

“Bunny’s gonna’ kill you, you know!” Roy put his hands on his hips.

“Why?” Courtney, who had hopped up to sit on the bar, asked. 

“Do you want a list?” Roy scoffed. “Where should we start? You were late for - stop it.” He swatted at one of her legs when she tried to wiggle her foot against his rib cage.

“Can’t we just-“

“No,” Roy shut her down.

“Fine-uh,” Courtney whined. She pulled her leg back from poking him and hooked it over her other one, making her dress lift just enough Danny swore he could see a run in her stockings. Almost as if someone’s fingernails grabbed at them. 

Danny tugged at his tight collar. The temperature in the room must’ve raised a solid 20 degrees as the likelihood of said fingernails belonging to his uptight, no-nonsense boss dawned on him. 

He originally assumed by “buttering him up,” Courtney meant maybe a little extra flirting, maybe even a kiss or some heavy petting if she was feeling extra generous.

And the office rendezvous caught him off guard, sure, but ripped tights and what looked like a hickey below her earlobe? Absolutely above and beyond service.

‘I should get her a thank you present…I wonder if she likes chocolate?’ Danny considered. Inadvertently staring at her as he tried to remember the heart shaped boxes of chocolates he passed in a window not long ago. 

“Take a picture, love.” Courtney smiled sweetly, hiking her skirt up just enough that he could admire her thighs in all their glory.

“Oh! I wasn’t…I didn’t mean…I…” Danny stuttered, looking at Roy first for help before he regained his train of thought. “Sure, if you insist.”

“See what you’ve done? Hasn’t he had a hard enough night?” Roy finally took the attention off of him.

“Oh come off it,” Courtney gave a little titter. “He’s a nice big boy, he can tell me when he’s had enough.” She patted his shoulder. “So, you want a picture, huh?”

“Well…” Danny realized it was finally his turn to speak but no words came out. Courtney’s hand slid down, curving over his collarbone before going back up. 

“Down, beast!” Roy scolded, cracking the dishcloth he had nearby against her forearm. “Stop stalling and tell me about this…” he impatiently snapped his fingers.

“Dan,” they both answered.

“Dan, right. What do we know about this guy?”

“Well, he’s 6’2”, maybe 6’4”. Works at Danny’s bank, obviously, and I think about…” Courtney pursed her lips, holding her palms facing each other out in front of her, “about this-“

“That’ll do,” Roy picked up on what she was doing.

“About uh…” She found a length she liked. “This long I reckon.”

“Ugh, I said that’ll do, Court!” Roy’s voice raised in frustration. Finally getting her attention. “Can we not have one night in this joint without you discussing your excursions?”

Danny decided this wasn’t his battle to fight so he kept his distance, hiding his muffled giggling behind his hand so the bickering pair wouldn’t catch on. 

“It’s impolite to write personal things down about other people.” She put her hands on her hips, “So if I didn’t tell you, I’d forget their pros and cons, and I can’t make that mistake again, can I?”

“This is why I don’t take you to industry parties with me,” Roy facepalmed, rubbing his tired eyes with his thumb and index finger. 

“No, you don’t take me because-“

“That’s 5.5 inches,” Danny declared with a satisfied nod. Sure in his math until he noticed the pair had stopped bickering and were looking at him in complete confusion.

“How - what?” Roy tried hiding his laughter. “Is this what you went to college for?”

“No, let him finish, this could be useful,” Courtney said in all seriousness, raising her brows in Roy’s direction, but he shook his head at her. 

“Those types of acts stopped showing publicly in the carny days, before even vaudeville thank you very much.”

“You’d know, you were there,” Danny mumbled under his breath, upset that Roy didn’t find his accurate measuring impressive.

“Oh I’m sorry, are we feeling a little testy again, Mister ‘I cried when the man stopped drawing the deer in Bambi’?” teased Roy.

“I don’t know, do we think we’re funny, Mister ‘I got rejected to be the 6th Marx brother’?” Danny challenged. Refusing to let Roy win this round. 

“Boys, boys, boys,” Courtney chimed between them, her tone more exasperated this time,  rolling her eyes. “Just whip them out already and get a ruler…or a room.” She tilted her head towards the back of the club with a smirk. “Or an office.”

“Nobody asked you.” Roy shot her a warning look, the same expression he normally gave right before he’d yell at one of the servers for screwing up. “Just get back to work, please.”

“Oh I don’t mind,” she turned to Danny with her hand on her chest. “If you guys want to, you know… “ she clicked her tongue in the back room’s direction. 

“Okay, that’s enough!” Roy shouted, pushing her off the bar top while she wasn’t looking. “Thanks for dropping in, get to steppin’, buh bye.”

Danny didn’t know whether to laugh at her falling or the way Roy was waving his towel as he continued arguing with her about fixing her make up before her next set. 

“Fine! How ‘bout next time I just put a box over my head and you can draw some lipstick on it!” Courtney yelled over her shoulder. She tried to get the last word in as she made her way to the tiny dressing room hidden behind the stage. 

“It would be an improvement!” Roy yelled back. “What the-“ 

Danny flicked one of the peanuts that had fallen out the bowl in front of him, hitting Roy square on the chin.

“Oh you son of a bitch!” Roy exclaimed when a second one hit his cheek. “Just for that, you’re buying me a drink.”

“Worth it,” Danny grinned. He swiveled around on his stool, victorious for once, watching Roy dig around in the bottles beneath them. 

“Actually, you know what I’d kill for right now? I worked on a picture with Guy Madison last year and he gave me this really terrific bottle of bourbon,” he began as he poured them each a glass of scotch. “If you ever actually come see my place, you should have a drink.”

“See your place?” Danny swallowed. 

‘Oh god what does he mean? What’s he implying?’ He started panicking. ‘We agreed it was all a misunderstanding but does he…does he actually want me now? Is this a real invitation?’

His mind was spiraling, and Roy taking his sweet time to pour each glass wasn’t helping matters. Danny wondered if he should shoot down the offer right there, but before he could make up his mind, Roy finally slid the glass his way.

“I mean, if you guys want to come over for dinner or something.”

‘Oh, of course he wasn’t talking about…me,’ Danny realized. He could feel his shoulders slump forward again in an oddly disappointed way. He couldn’t show it however, not there in front of Roy. 

“Dinner?” Danny frowned, hiding his true feelings. “You can cook?”

Roy took a sip from his drink. “Of course I can cook, what do you mean?”

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna give us? Indigestion?”

“Fine,” Roy conceded, smacking his lips. “Or you can come by for tailoring. We really need to get you out of those shitty little Hooverville suits.” He curled his top lip, looking him over. “I’d say no offense but they really do look hideous.”

“Heeeey,” Danny whined, clutching his lapels as if they could hear the insult. “These are catalog.”

Roy stood taller and pinched a piece of his pants to show Danny the seams. “And this is custom-made by the same guy who tailors costumes for Rosalind Russell, you see my point?”

“Rosalind…Russell?” Danny’s eyes went wide, reaching for the bit he was holding to feel the texture of the higher quality fabric. 

When his hand touched Roy’s thigh he swore he could feel his breath hitch, followed by Roy’s eyes panning down, presumably also aware of how intimate the moment had unwittingly become. 

‘Shit.’ He realized he had gotten a tad too close for comfort and pulled back. 

He sat down innocently as if nothing had happened, like when you get pulled over for driving over the limit and brace yourself to compliment your way out of it. “Boy, you know you’re everything I want to be when I’m 57.”

“Why I oughta-“ Roy gasped. Pulling his best Joan Crawford impression, he leaned down close to him. “Look, so help me, I’m gonna slug you.”

“There's a name for you ladies, but it isn't used in high society...outside of a kennel,” he retorted, proud of himself for not only remembering the line from The Women but also for making Roy’s dimples deepen when he said it. 

“Try me,” Roy challenged, shooting Danny with a peanut right between the eyes.

“Ow! Danny furiously tried to rub the sore spot better on his forehead. “Hey-uh! That was a dirty trick!” he whined.

He must have looked absolutely pathetic, as Roy’s face flashed all the way from pity straight into hysterics. 

“Oh, you poor little simple thing, don’t ever change.” Roy grasped his shoulder, his laughs turning higher pitched than Danny had heard before. He wiped at his eye with the back of his hand. “God, I’d be bored without you here.”

“What?” Danny perked up, unsure if he heard that right.

“I said,” Roy’s laughter started calming down. “Oh nevermind. Forget it. I need a piss.” 

Many hours and many, many drinks later, Danny figured he had enough liquid courage in him to finally go see Roy’s apartment. Platonically, of course.

“I’m heading home soon, I was wondering if you’d like a stroll?” he asked Roy at the end of the night, when the last tipsy crowd began to trickle out.

“Sure, yeah. I’d love to, but I gotta go take inventory and lock up some stuff. Would you mind helping out?” Roy barely even looked up from writing down some numbers of reservations for the next night. As if the revelation of Danny’s intentions hadn’t hit him yet. Not that he had any intentions. Maybe.

“Counting? Please, it's my job.”

Finally, Roy lifted his head, dropping an elbow on the counter, resting his head in his hand as he looked on in astonishment. “I always forget that, I’m amazed when you bring it up.” 

“What? My job?” Danny blushed. His parents had told him a job at a bank would be respectable, but he didn’t see it, until now maybe. 

“No.” Roy laughed suddenly, dropping the act just as quick and standing up straight. “That you can count.”

‘This piece of work.’ Danny thought. He was caught off guard by his mockery but didn’t want to give Roy the satisfaction of knowing that. 

“Bang zoom, Haylock! You’re going to the moon!” he mimicked Ralph Kramden, hoping the little reference would earn at least a chuckle from the equally fanatical Roy.

“Good one,” he praised, looking up at the fist Danny still held in his face. He gave it a playful tap with his pen, his own little version of a gold star. 

‘Success.’

Thanks to that little pick-me-up, the inventory they had to do went by, as Roy noted, faster than usual, both men forgetting about the time as they waved off the last of the wait staff and performers.

“All I’m saying is, knowing her, it was a stunt.” Roy threw his hands up, his pen nearly hitting a passing waitress.

“Knowing her,” Danny blew a raspberry. “I know you think your shit don’t stink, but there’s no way you know Joan Crawford.”

“I didn’t say I know her personally,” Roy defended.

Danny, annoyed at Roy for missing the point, batted his eyelashes at him before trying again. “Fine. You know what the tabloids say about her, that’s my point! I think at the ‘46 Academy Awards, she and everyone there knew there was no way she would lose.”

“But then why wasn’t she there?” Roy slammed his fist on the table, clearly fed up with how long this conversation had gone on.

Danny however, was not prepared to give in just yet, enjoying their little argument and seeing Roy get so flustered far too much. 

“Because she’s a deeply paranoid and emotional person, who doesn’t want to show her weak side because that way people can’t use it against her the way she uses their weaknesses against them!” he finally exhaled. 

“Oh brother,” Roy rolled his eyes. “So she’s just a bitch, is your excuse?”

“Pot meet kettle.” Danny waved his hands in Roy’s direction, making his dimples deepen in that tell-tale ‘you got me’ grin he’d grown so fond of. 

“Fine,“ Roy conceded, taking another sip from his now lukewarm drink. “Ugh, this is worse than your fashion sense,” he pulled a face, scooting the drink away. “But for the record, I do know Joan Crawford, semi-personally, and she would pull a stunt like that.”

“You’re such a fucking liar,” Danny spat like an annoyed teenager. “I bet you’re just making that up again so -“

“Boys!” Courtney tottered into the storage room where they’d been counting bottles. Clearly one too many deep herself. “Have one of you still not pinned the other against the milk crates?”

“Shut up, Courtney!” they both shouted in unison, Danny not even registering what she was saying thanks to his own impeded thinking.

“Danny, my love.” She threw an arm over his shoulder, pulling him in close to not-so-subtly whisper in his ear. “Make him show you how…you know, express what he's got.”

“Shut up, Courtney,” Roy repeated.

“Make me.” She licked her lip, lunging forward to grab both of them in a big bear hug. “Actually don’t, I’m on my way out with Morgan and Kameron.”

“Yuck.” Danny scoffed under his breath, trying to pretend it didn’t turn him on just a little bit…a lotta bit…

“Crushed between all those muscles…Roy,” she turned to him, cooing, “If tonight is the night I finally go, write that I died happy on my tombstone.”

“Write it yourself!” Roy pushed her away with his elbow. “And quit distracting us. I want to go home and this idiot can barely count to 12 without getting lost.”

“Hey!”

“Listen, you little shit, you’ve been counting the same stack of tequila for 14 minutes and you still haven’t gotten past the 2nd shelf.”

“Oh?” Danny looked at the shelves. Realizing that Roy had been right, he sheepishly smiled at him with a pathetic, “Oops?”

Courtney tutted, shaking her blonde hair over her shoulders. “I guess you’ll have to teach him a lesson. I recommend a good wallop across the bum.”

“I recommend a cup of coffee and a cold shower.” Roy crossed his arms at her like a disappointed father. 

“And why would I listen to you?” she challenged, mirroring his stance even down to the way his left brow was raised. 

“Because sometimes, SOMETIMES, only once in a blue moon…I’m wrong. I can’t be wrong twice in one night, can I?”

“Is this your way of apologizing for being an ass?” Courtney asked, throwing her hands around his neck for a hug.

“Maybe,” Roy hugged her back, pulling her tightly into his arms till she stood on her tippy toes. “Do you forgive me?”

“Only if you buy me a big box of chocolates.” 

‘Definitely likes chocolates,’ Danny noted to himself.

“Deal. Now go with your little toys,” Roy let her go, “and when you’re done, drink lots of water. Love you, be safe.”

The pair exchanged quick air kisses. Danny couldn’t help himself but smile at how lovingly Roy doted over her, making sure she listened to him before he shoved her away into the waiting arms of Kameron. 

“You know,” Danny sat down in his makeshift seat, lighting them cigarettes. “You two would make a cute couple if you weren’t,” he swallowed, “you know...”

“Gee thanks.” Roy took his cigarette from him, shoving his seat away so he could count the tequila instead.

“Hey, what did Courtney mean-“ Danny tried asking about Courtney’s earlier statement about the office but Roy shushed him. 

“10, 12, 14…” Roy kept counting under his breath. His brows tightly furrowed, concentrating on every label. “16, 18…19?” He curled his top lip at the tequila bottles. 

“20.” Danny held up the bottle Roy had poured himself a drink out of when they started counting bottles. 

“Knew I kept you around for a reason,” Roy let out a relieved sigh. “20. Beautiful, done.”

Roy put the bottle back carefully onto the shelf, wrote down the number on his clipboard and hooked his pen over the sheet of paper. Finally! Their cue to hit the road.

Danny’s stomach was in knots, boozy butterflies floating about at the anticipation of more intimate alone time. The thought made him nauseous with doubt but it was too enticing to pass up, just like those enormous Ferris wheels his parents took him to when he was a little boy.

Every time he’d question his decision, he’d look to his left towards Roy for some new motivation, reminding himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Just walking side by side as they’d done many a night, simply without Jinkx in the middle this time, and if he had to be honest it felt freeing. 

Liberating even. 

“Well then, who do you think should’ve won?” Roy asked, turning the corner to their block.

“Seriously? Such an easy answer,” Danny raised his shoulders in exasperation. It seemed like every time they reached the Best Actress category in their little debates Roy would scoff at his answers just to get a rise out of him, even some of the ones he, sometimes reluctantly, agreed with. “Judy Garland, obviously.”

Roy scrunched up his nose as if he was thinking over Danny’s answer before he sighed, “I don’t know-“

“Oh brother, what do you have against Judy mother-fucking Garland?” Danny interrupted him, using the same phrase Roy had used for Deborah Kerr earlier against himself.

“Grace - you asshole.” Roy fumbled over his words, hiding a proud chuckle. “Grace Kelly deserved it, I think they voted for the right bitch.“

“Well I think you’re wrong,” Danny huffed. “And I think if Courtney was here she’d agree with me.”

“Is that so?”

“And she’d call you a dickhead!” He tried his best to imitate her Australian accent but just couldn’t quite get it right, causing him to laugh at his own joke. 

“Well, well,” Roy swayed towards him, bumping their shoulders together. “Careful, someone might say the club is rubbing off on you.” 

He was right, obviously. Even Danny could feel the shift in his personality since he moved to New York just a few weeks earlier. Specifically since he started hanging out at the club with Roy and the others. 

“Would that be so bad?” he asked out loud, more to himself than anyone else truth be told.

“It would make you right more often.” 

“I am right. Judy should’ve won.”

“As much as I would like to agree with you, I can't. Why do you think she should’ve won, huh? Because she’s been around so long? Because she…” Roy gestured with over the top quotation marks, “‘overcame’ her struggles to make a good goddamn movie? Because it was an absolutely terrific movie, don't get me wrong, she damn near made me shed a tear.”

“Well…then why don’t you think she should’ve won?” Danny came to a standstill, confused by Roy’s argument. 

“Think about it.” Roy stopped walking as well, stepping back a few steps to be equal with Danny again. “Those are all amazing qualities, but you can’t just up and say ‘I did my best so I deserve the thing I want’, you have to be able to show people you’re in it for the long run, Judy isn’t that girl anymore but Grace Kelly is.”

“But she did show up!” Danny tried reasoning back. “Maybe not the way you wanted her too but she tried.”

“That’s show business for you,” Roy shrugged.

“James Mason didn’t win either, which is complete bullshit,” Danny scoffed, resuming his walking.

“That I can agree with.” 

“So…thanks for letting me hang around all night, you sure I wasn’t a bother?” Danny finally asked when they reached Roy’s apartment door. Just before they began to discuss that year’s winners.

Before he answered, Roy took the time to dig in his thick black coat’s pocket and pull out a couple of cigarettes, lighting one for each of them between his teeth. A little habit Danny had grown quite fond of him doing when he didn’t think people would notice. 

“You know, I actually had a good time. I really appreciated the help, thanks.”

“You’re very welcome, I’d do it again any- any time really.” He stumbled over his words a bit. Roy’s lips were too distracting as he took a big drag of his cigarette.

“With the amount of scotch you had, I probably don’t have to ask if you had a good time?” Roy teased, his lips twisting into a faint smile. 

Danny couldn’t help but blush, especially since Roy covered most of the drinks he ended up having. An act of kindness he appreciated; his wallet was looking a little too thin as it was tonight, with Jinkx skipping out before the tab could be paid. 

“I wish I could repay at least one or two,” he began. Feeling around in his pockets for any change he might have left.

“Yeah, I bet you do.” Roy looked up at him, halting his movements with a firm pat on the shoulder. Another habit Danny liked. At this point he started an imaginary list. 

Danny could still feel his heart racing at the contact, even one so innocent. He wondered what Roy was thinking while they looked at each other, his face illuminated only by the soft glow of the street lamps scattered about .

“You know-“ Roy inhaled, raising his hand to hold Danny’s cheek tenderly, lost in thought. 

“Hm?” Visions of them together began swirling in his mind. Glorious visions. And then - 

“Nothin’. You had some lint. Go back to your doll face, she’ll want you home when she gets in,” Roy slurred slightly. A lazy smile on his face as if the night was growing long, but he didn’t want it to end yet. “It’s getting late.”

“Oh,” he breathed. Saying he felt let down was the understatement of the year. He didn’t want to fight the issue though, hell he didn’t even know how. 

What could he say that wouldn’t ruin any progress they’d made as friends, or come out sounding just plain foolish? So he accepted his refusal and turned around to walk away back to his apartment.

‘C’mon, be a man!’ he scolded himself. Turning on his heels when he’d taken no more than 5 steps to face Roy with new self-assuredness. 

“You don’t want to invite me in for that bourbon?” he asked, raising his shoulders, the ash he’d forgotten about from his cigarette falling onto his shoes.

“I don’t think you need another drink tonight, do you?”

“Um, I….” Danny struggled to decide. So much for that confidence he had built up. 

“Exactly. So it’s probably better if I don’t and we call it a night.” Roy flashed that devilishly delicious smile. 

That smile that made his knees weak and his stomach do somersaults, even if his words made his heart drop nearly out of his body.

“Right…but -” He wanted to protest and demand a reason, feeling his blood boil like when your high school crush rejects you. 

“It’s nothing you - you hear that, right? Her stomping? God she’s loud.” Roy turned around to gesture to the source. 

Danny recognized Courtney almost immediately, her usual little skip run in those tiny dresses she wore nearly as recognizable as her accent.

“I lost my keys!” she laughed, running a little faster towards them. “And Dela’s out with her new boyfriend. Who, by the way, did I tell you his mustache is ah-mazing.”

“Where’s your dates?” Roy shrugged off her rambling. 

“Ugh, don’t get me started. Kameron got cold feet and Morgan, well, let’s just say some Scots don’t hold their liquor as well as advertised.” She blinked as if she was trying to get rid of some unpleasant memories. “I got them a taxi, they're fine.”

“Seriously,” Roy pointed to her heels when she finally reached him, already holding the apartment building’s door open for her. “Walk like a man, why don’t yah?”

“Fuck me like one,” Courtney retorted with a tease in her voice, tousling Danny’s hair, saying, “You can even bring him.”

Danny’s eyes flicked back and forth between the pair, unsure what to think. Or even what to say. Hell, even unsure if she was being serious or not. All he could see was red. 

“He’s not interested.” Roy’s focus switched to Danny. His expression was unreadable, as if he didn't even know what he was thinking. “Right?”

Danny swallowed, muttering, “…right.” 

“Goodnight, Danny,” Courtney sang, walking past Roy into his apartment building. Throwing a last little finger wave his way before taking the edge of Roy’s collar in her hand and tugging. 

“Coming, dollface,” Roy smirked, following her lead.

He stood dumbfounded. Baffled by this turn of events. The ONE time he’d made the first move and THIS is what he got for it? 

“Why that…that….” he huffed, unable to process rational thoughts he took a puff from his cigarette before throwing it on the ground. Storming off in the direction of his apartment with heavy, angry stomps. “That slut! Jezebel! That absolute…TRAMP!”