When Garrett pitched the new show, he had a few cohosts in mind.
Gadiel was not one of them.
Order Up wasn’t meant to replace Homebuddies, but it would probably attract the same audience, and Gadiel was about as different to Niki as anyone could be.
But Garrett sucks it up and decides to make it work – he’s got high hopes for this show and can’t afford to let the unexpected throw him off his game.
And boy, did the unexpected came out at Le Petit Ermitage.
Chickens. Clowns. A puppy. A bedtime story acted out by a steampunk voodoo priest or something.
At which point Gadiel became his homebase, his only stable ground in a batshit crazy shoot, Garrett couldn’t say.
Maybe during breakfast, when Gadiel looks over at him, beaming at his own pastrami joke and Garrett can’t help but beam back.
Maybe when the puppy comes out and Garrett goes all soft and self-conscious about it, only to realize that Gadiel is also cooing over the dog.
Maybe when Gadiel’s idea of dressing up is non-ripped jeans and a white t-shirt. Maybe it’s the way he looks at Garrett in his dressy clothes like he’s trying not to stare.
The point is, Garrett’s having fun. Gadiel’s chiller than he thought, rolling with the punches and absolutely delighted by the luxury lavished on them. There’s just something in the way Gadiel smiles that makes Garrett want to see it again.
After dinner, they go out for drinks on the hotel rooftop – after shooting some b-roll, it’s just the two of them: a nice break, away from the cameras and the crew. Gadiel looks even better after a few drinks, and it seems like he’s thinking the same, because he’s sitting closer, leaning in, eyes bright with mischief.
“How’s your throat?” Garrett asks, immediately regretting the way he phrased it. He really just meant to inquire about Gadiel’s stupidly self-inflicted allergic reaction, but now he’s sort of...
...staring at Gadiel’s throat. His adam’s apple is bobbing up and down as he clears his throat and swallows, testing how it feels. “Feels okay. I told you not to worry, man, I had it under control.”
“Having an allergic reaction is not having things under control! What’s wrong with –“
Gadiel laughs, all pearly white teeth and crinkly eyes, and that stops Garrett’s tirade right there. “It’s kinda cute how you worry bout me.”
Garrett drains his drink. “Yes. Well. I think the crew’s waiting for us.” He checks his non-existent watch. “C’m’on.”
It’s like this hotel is trying to mess with them. The late night snack comes with a side of bedtime story, by this intimidatingly cool character who just walks in and tells them to get in bed together. Be cozy. Glad of the excuse, but a bit nervous, Garrett slides in next to Gadiel under the covers.
He doesn’t really have time to enjoy or overthink it – the storyteller commands their attention and weaves an enthralling tale that prevents their minds from wandering. They’re still under his spell after he leaves, and they film the obligatory good night shots in their respective beds before the crew leaves them alone, so there’s no time for awkwardness to really set in.
Gadiel switches the light off and Garrett turns in his bed, repressing a shiver.
“You good, man?” Gadiel asks. His voice is different in the dark. Soft around the edges, like.
“I’m fine, just – my sheets are cold.”
“Mine are toasty.” Garrett can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.
“Unfair.”
“Quit whining and climb in,” Gadiel says, and it sounds almost like a dare. Like Gadiel doesn’t really think Garrett will do it.
Garrett’s a bit shocked, to be honest. Gadiel acts like such a dude all the time, Garrett would have expected him to have some kind of hang up about sleeping in the same bed. To no homo his way out of it. But he can see, even through the darkness, that Gadiel’s holding the covers open, scooching to the other side to let Garrett have the place he just vacated – the warmest spot.
Garrett slips in, and this time, there’s more nervousness. They’re not doing this for a video. They’re not doing this because they were told to by a commanding man. They’re just. Doing this.
Gadiel pulls the blankets higher, almost tucking Garrett in, and it makes him feel all soft inside, and a bit unsettled. What does that mean? Does it even mean something? Where is the line – and is Garrett willing to risk it all to find it?
He turns to face Gadiel, who’s also on his side, and their knees bump together.
Garrett chuckles, a bit breathless. “Sorry. Got a lot of leg.”
“S’okay, man. Wouldn’t have asked you to come over if I minded a bit of touching.”
It feels like Garrett’s heart is trying to beat out of his chest and possibly slap the both of them in the face for being idiots. Garrett decides to go for it before he starts hyperventilating. He laces his fingers through Gadiel’s and scooches across the pillow to brush their noses together.
“Or a lot?” he asks hopefully.
“Or a lot.”
Gadiel kisses like he laughs – whole-heartedly and sunshine-filled. It tastes like the chocolate and strawberries they just had, and Garrett doesn’t think he could ever go back to being coworkers that don’t kiss.
It took two chickens, a duck, a clown, a voodoo priest and a string quartet to get them together, and Garrett thinks that nothing could be so fitting for two weird guys like him and Gadiel.
