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Rob never really liked filming on location. Not when the set was in some small town in Oklahoma with awful cell phone service. It was different when he was shadowing Les, but now he was out on his own. It was quite boring without Les.
If the movie itself wasn't going smoother than butter, Rob honestly would've pulled his hair out. Well, that and something else…
Every morning before he had to be on set, while the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, he stopped by the local diner. There was no way he could make it through the day without a cup of coffee.
Unfortunately, this place doesn't have the best coffee, hell it barely has enough sugar to make it bearable. But he heard from everyone around this was the best coffee in town, and there was no way he was going to go further out just for a cup of coffee, so he would have to just deal.
That is until the third morning. The waiter set down the cup and as Rob reached for the sugar packets he was surprised when he noticed a hand covering it.
"I already put in sugar for you." A calm voice stated.
Rob scoffed, "You sure it's enough?" He did in fact like a lot of sugar in his coffee.
It was only when he heard his waiter laugh that he looked up. If Rob didn't know any better he would think he was looking at a movie star. He must've been in his late 30s at least but it was hard to tell since his brown hair didn't have a hint of grey.
The waiter flashed a smile and something about it made Rob's heart somersault. How the hell was there a man this pretty serving him coffee?
"I saw how many packets you put in yesterday. I got some brown sugar instead, tastier than the packets." For a moment Rob wasn't sure if the waiter had winked at him, but his eyes seemed to sparkle either way.
Rob pulled the cup away from the waiter's hand and took a sip. Well, it still wasn't the best coffee but it was a hell of a lot better that's for damn sure. It was actually worth the price now.
He licked his lips to capture the flavor before smiling up at the waiter. "You weren't wrong about it tasting better than the packets…" His voice trailed off waiting for the waiter to reply with his name.
"Mitch."
Rob smiled, Mitch huh? That wasn't the name he was expecting, but it was nice to have a name to go with the pretty face.
"Well Mitch,” Rob asked setting down his coffee cup, his gray eyes twinkling, “ what other nuggets of wisdom do you have cooking in your brain?"
Mitch's face lit up as he started to rattle off his favorite menu items and how he liked them prepared. Rob listened intently, it was rare to find a waiter in LA with this sort of passion for the food he served.
And it was at this moment that Rob decided that he was going to make sure Mitch was his waiter every time he came in. Hell, he was actually going to order the food. Any excuse to talk to this charming man even more, and any excuse to give him a big tip as well.
So for every day, Rob waited until he could be served by Mitch, and boy did it help his mood. Something to look forward to every day, a person he was happy to see and he thought Mitch was happy to see him as well.
This thought was made much clearer to him that Mitch was happy to see him because he started asking him about himself. He asked for his name, when he got into town, how long he was planning to stay, that sort of stuff. Rob had told Mitch he was in town for work and Mitch asked if he was in town working on that film. Rob confirmed it. He didn’t tell Mitch he was the producer of the film. Some things are better left close to the chest.
Mitch must be a workaholic because he had been in for seven days in a row and Mitch had been there for all of them. At least he had taken a day off in the middle of those, but Mitch hadn’t. And that troubled Rob deeply…
On the eighth day, Rob is running late at has to skip breakfast, so he drops by for dinner. The last hour before closing, he didn't expect Mitch to be there, and yet-
"Mitch?" Rob looked up from the menu only to see an exhausted man, maybe it's the fact Mitch isn't covered in the morning light that Rob notices. Mitch's eyes are red and puffy, with dark rings around his eyes, a slightly red nose, and very pink ears. Signs of a man being sick maybe, maybe tired?
"Dear," Rob began in a soft tone, "Are you sure you should be working?"
Mitch snorted, rubbing his eyes with the back of his wrist. "I am almost done with my shift."
"Do you always work full days?" Rob asked, glancing at his watch. Did Mitch work from five am to six pm? Is that even illegal? Say what you will about the film crew at least they got lunch breaks on top of standard ones. But… it's not like Mitch is in a union.
"No." Rob felt himself breathe a sigh of relief for a moment until Mitch kept talking. "I just picked up a double today."
Rob frowned looking at the menu. Before sighing softly, as hungry as he was he found it hard to focus on eating, even the idea of it when Mitch was clearly suffering. Rob stood up, "How much do you get paid an hour?"
Mitch blinked and took a step backward. Rob forgot how short Mitch was until he was standing over him. Rob tried his best to look smaller, which given his height was difficult.
"Why do you want to know that?" Mitch asked nervously, rubbing the back of his ear. Rob noted how even now Mitch seemed uneasy on his feet. Had he not been sleeping?
Instead of answering him, Rob crossed his arms. He shouldn't need to say it. Mitch, as Rob had gathered by talking to him, was a man of great intelligence. He should know why.
Mitch's eyes flashed over to a door in the back. Voice was quiet, "I can't just leave."
There was a moment, where Rob debated if he really should push the issue. This action would have consequences for Mitch's job for sure. And yet, this really would be the best thing for him.
"I think you find you can just," Rob said firmly, his gray eyes resolute.
There was a long pause from Mitch. Before he swallowed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I need to clock out."
"Go. I will wait for you." Rob replied, all thoughts of dinner completely forgotten.
It should've taken a few seconds or so to clock out, but Mitch seemed to be moving extra slowly. Well, Rob preferred it that way, better than him rushing and passing out on the floor.
By the time Mitch gets back to him, he is noticeably less steady on his feet. Without saying a word Rob takes hold of Mitch's arm and guides him out of the diner. Not the way he imagined first holding Mitch, but he didn't have much of a choice.
"How are you holding up?" Rob asks as he watches Mitch intently.
"I just need to sleep," Mitch muttered.
Rob hummed for a moment, thinking. "I can drive you home, which car is yours?"
Suddenly Rob felt Mitch tense up next to him, something had shifted. "It's the sliver one over there." Mitch gestured to a small sliver hatchback, then swallowed, "I can drive myself… home."
"I don't mind," Rob said honestly. It’s not like he had much else to do tonight. Work could wait.
Rob was surprised when he felt Mitch jerk away from him, putting both hands on the hood of his car. "I do. I mind."
There was silence as Mitch collected his breath, his eyes shut tight. His voice came out much more shaky than before. "I...I like you, Rob. And I want you to keep liking me."
Mitch's hands curled into fists, "You can't take me home because I don't have one right now." He spoke hastily as if saying it faster made it easier to admit. "My landlord kicked me out two weeks ago and everywhere else is too expensive. That's why I have been working so hard."
Rob had walked over to Mitch, but again not towering over him, but standing at a respectful distance. His tone was gentle, "So you are living out of your car?" That explains the curtains in the windows.
Mitch nodded, and Rob was quiet for a moment, before reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. "I did that… when I was younger. Hard times just happen, nothing to be ashamed of."
Mitch finally opened his eyes to look up at Rob. His eyes were full of wonder, "You still like me?"
Rob blinked for a moment then let out a hearty laugh, "Of course I do. You are the most charming man in 100 miles, and they are filming a movie in town."
Mitch couldn't help but laugh along with Rob, even as his cheeks turned pink. 'If you say so."
"I do." Rob smiled gently, moving his other hand to Mitch's cheek, and cupping it. "Why don't we head back to my hotel? You can get some rest there."
"I- Are you sure? You barely know anything about me." Mitch said in amazement but Rob could detect a hint of worry in his voice.
"I know enough," Rob said plainly, he ran his thumb along Mitch's jaw. He spoke softly, looking directly into Mitch's bright green eyes, "Please let me take care of you."
Mitch stared into Rob's determined grey eyes before nodding. "Okay."
Rob had expected to be bored without Les, lonely without him, but instead, he found someone else. Someone who needed him just as much as he did. Who knows where it would lead.
With any luck, he could convince the handsome man to come back to LA with him. Rob could hope anyway.
I wasn't actually sure how to go about this prompt but i hope it's something along the lines of what you had in mind friend <3
-
Ethan had always wanted to go to Disneyland as a child. He’d recall begging his parents to take him ever since he could remember, but by the nature of their status as farmers it wasn’t a very achievable thing to want. He did end up going when he was in college during a spring break trip to California with Jack.
The circumstances of this particular trip, however, were quite different. He had been sent out to reclaim a particular envelope at a dead drop by Tomorrowland. The enveloped in question held the financial information for a known arms dealer and his multiple foreign bank accounts. It was strange that the dead drop location was still in use, but apparently the agent who had dropped off the goods had no other choice Apparently During one of the expansions to Tomorrowland, the CIA had asked old Walt for hiding spot for state secrets. Given that it was the height of the Cold War, he was in no position to deny them.
At the Tomorrowland Monorail station there would be a cubby space of some sort. Something trained eyes wouldn’t miss. He spotted the cubby space in the wall, right near the gate. Ethan grabbed the envelope and unsealed it to make sure it was what he was looking for. The was a sudden sense of unease building up in his chest as he heard footsteps approaching him.
He shoved the envelope into his jacket as quick as he could. The footsteps stop as he turned, face going pale at the sight of the man before him. “How the hell are you, here?” Ethan looked toward the man in front of him. If he hadn’t been a field agent for so long perhaps, he would have been more surprised. But given the nature of his work, and the ability for enemy organizations to regroup, Ethan understood that this was just another day in his life.
Solomon Lane sighed heavily before stating “I should have expected this.” Ethan remained still weighing his options. He could fight Lane out in the open, getting banned from the park, and losing the money. He could just make a run for it.
Lane looked back at him partly confused and partly amused. “There’s not going to be an easy way out of this is there?”
“No,’ Ethan said in agreement, ‘And neither of us brought guns, right?”
“Nope,’ Lane inhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose, ‘So now what?”
Just as Ethan was about to answer, a park employee approaches them both.
“Excuse me sirs, but you’re going have to move out of the way this part of the platform is off limits.”
“Right, of course.” Ethan replies. Lane grabbed his arm and began to move them towards the exit, “Our apologies sir, come along love.” Ethan looked up at him bewildered at the cover Lane had chosen.
“That was a bit unnecessary.” Ethan said. Lane kept his gaze straight ahead. “Better for the man to think we were having a row and wandered in a technically restricted area than the alternative.” Ethan sighed already feeling his blood boiling from frustration.
Once they stepped out onto the park Ethan spoke up, still being dragged by Lane “We could just walk away from this; pretend we never saw each other and go back to our lives.”
“Ethan, unless either one of us has had a sudden and drastic change in personality, you know we’re not just going to walk away from this.” Due to the amount of people in the park, the both of them begun to get jostled as they walked. The envelope falls to the ground, as it was not so secure inside his jacket. Ethan tried to get the envelope but is pulled down to the ground with Lane’s grip on his arm. Lane managed to pick up the envelope and pulled out the paper.
Ethan saw the expression on Lane’s face change from his usual stoic to an annoyed grimace. He turns the paper over to Ethan, where there is a handwritten note.
“Hey Ethan, the mission is already complete. Just thought you could use a vacation enjoy your day off.” -W. Brandt.
Ethan would find this a kind gesture if he were alone. Given who’s ended up with he finds it mildly concerning that someone managed to leak a decoy mission. He sighs crumpling up the paper and putting it in his pocket. After the most dramatic 5 minutes of his morning, he was rather unsure of how to continue the day. He looks up at Lane, who is equally confused.
Ethan shrugged, “Space Mountain, then?”
Lane looks down at him, before he sighed out. “Yeah, aright. Why Not?”
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"Benji?" the raspy voice makes Benji jump slightly, startling him out of his deep thought. He had opted to sit by Ethan's as he slept in his tent, resting after preventing what would have been pretty much a nuclear apocalypse. Again.
It's dark in the tent, the quiet only disturbed by the sounds of nature outside. Calm and peaceful, as a welcome change.
"Benji," Ethan calls one more time, and Benji realises that his thoughts had wandered away yet again. He was told that he needed rest, and rationally he knows he does, but the mere thought about sleeping is still making his skin crawl. The memory of his eyes closing with the complete certainty that he will never be able to open them again is way too fresh in his mind.
He blinks forcefully, and focuses on Ethan's features he can vaguely make out in the dark.
"How are you feeling?" he asks, and Ethan huffs out what seems like a small laugh.
"I've been worse," Ethan asks, and Benji supposes that is true, but it still doesn't really answer the question.
"I know you have," Benji's stoo tired. That makes him both snappy and too exhausted to really actually snap. "But how are you feeling now?"
"I'm okay, Benji," Benji hates himself for the way it makes him feel to hear Ethan say his name. Every time. Like a pathetic lovesick puppy. He reigns it in as Ethan continues. "Bruised ribs hurt like a bitch, but they will heal. I'm okay".
"Good," is all Benji manages to choke out. Just as he's about to start spiralling again, Ethan speaks up.
"And you?"
"Hm?" for the life of him, Benji doesn't know why that simple question catches him off guard the way it does. He must be much more tired than he thought.
"How are you feeling, Benji?"
"I'm okay," Benji puts all the effort into sounding casual. Good thing it's so dark here, so Ethan can't see the grotesque struggle taking place on Benji's bruised face. "I'm fine. I'm not the one who had to be rescued off a mountain top after crashing a helicopter and having a fight with Superman's evil twin brother".
Ethan doesn't laugh at the remark. Benji feels like he has monumantally failed at something. He hates that feeling. Hates that it's too familiar to him.
"And I'm not the one who got hanged," Ethan deadpans, and suddenly Benji feels like he's being strangled again. The breath is completely knocked out of his chest. He bites into his already split lip, tasting blood.
"Ilsa told me what happened," Ethan adds when Benji doesn't manage an answer. "When were you going to tell me?"
Benji still remains silent. Partly because he's still struggling to breathe. Partly because the answer to that question is probably 'never'.
"Benji," Ethan's voice is lower now, impossibly soft, impossibly, excruciatingly warm. Benji thinks that he surely must be imagining the way is wavers when he continues speaking. "I know there are bruises on your neck. Please stop trying to hide them from me. Please... talk to me, Benji".
Benji has no idea what to say. He gulps for air, and it sounds like a painful sob.
"Benji..."
"What is there to say?" Benji finally manages, and the way it comes out makes him cringe. "I was stupid, and weak, and... so fucking helpless. Got caught in Lane's trap like an idiot, got beaten up, and then strung up like a pig carcass at the butcher's. There's nothing... nothing more to talk about".
"Benji," Ethan flails with his arms, trying to sit up, or maybe find a light switch, Benji doesn't know, but he reaches out with his own hand, to help or support him. Ethan's hand finds Benji's and grabs it, holding tightly. His flailing stops. "Benji".
Benji freezes. Ethan's hand is warm. His grip is both tight and gentle.
"Please don't speak about yourself like that, Benji. You are... you are none of those things. You are brave and smart and so strong. I am... I'm so glad you're here with me, Benji".
Benji feels the breath being knocked out of him for the second time in the past few minutes.
"Ethan..."
"And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn't talk to me about... this. Sorry for making you feel like you couldn't trust me".
That's not quite true. Benji has always known that he can trust Ethan with everything. With his life, with the future of the entire mainkind. He wants to say as much, but finds that his voice is gone. Ethan falls silent, too. He is still holding Benji's hand, and Benji can't even dream of pulling it away from Ethan's grip, even though he supposes he should do it. Ethan starts rubbing circles against the back of Benji's hand, and Benji breathes out sharply.
"Is this okay?" Ethan suddenly sounds nervous. Benji wishes he could see Ethan's face better, but at the same time he's grateful Ethan can't see his. He still can't answer, but instead just curls his fingers around Ethan's. Something as simple as holding hands should not be this overwhelming, but Benji supposes everything is when it involves Ethan.
"Benji..." Ethan whispers, now holding Benji's hand in both of his. "I never told you this... I didn't want to tell you, I was afraid of many- too many things, but everything that happened here made me re-think that. I should have told you earlier..."
The sound of Ethan's voice, the motion of him rubbing Benji's hand, and the darkness all mix with Benji's exhaustion all too well. He suddenly finds that he hardly comprehends what Ethan is actually saying, but the mere sound of his voice is already all consuming.
"I love you," Benji breathes out before he can catch himself, effectively cutting off Ethan's ramblings. All movement seizes, as both of them freeze. Benji finds he's too tired to even feel embarassed. Just as he prepares himself for Ethan letting go of his hand, Ethan's grip only tightens instead.
"I love you, too, Benji. I love you, so much, I have loved you for years".
Ethan huffs out a breath - like a small relieved laugh - and slowly presses Benji's hand to his lips. Then turns it around, just as slowly, and kisses the palm.
Benji doesn't know if he's dreaming this. He doesn't know if he had died and this is all tricks of his fading brain. But he will take it even if it is either of those things.
"I love you, Ethan," he keeps repeating, and Ethan doesn't let go.
____
Benji's bruises barely make themselves known as he moves until he's lying next to Ethan, with Ethan's arm around him as he's trying not to put any pressure on Ethan's bruised ribs. Benji's eyelids are growing heavy. He supposes if they wake up like this together in the morning, it will mean all of this was real. They will talk more then. But now he can't stay awake any longer.
He falls asleep to the feeling of Ethan's laying a gentle kiss on his forehead.
