Unfinished Die Hard 4.0 RPS fic up for adoption
Title: ???
Author: latte_vanilla so far
Fandom: Die Hard 4.0 RPS
Pairing: Bruce Willis/Justin Long
Rating: Lame, nothing happens so far, just innuendo
Length: ~1800 words
Warnings: Un-finished. Pretty much the first draft. Not betad.
Summary: Justin has a bit of a crush on Bruce. Bruce hosts a barbecue and things turn interesting. Featuring the rest of the primary cast and crew of Die Hard 4.0 to some extent, and Justin Timberlake and Mos Def.
A/N: This is unfinished. I'm not likely to ever finish this, and I posted this because maybe someone would like to take over. *Waves to people from hard4brains, hope someone followed the link here.* If anyone is interested in continuing, ripping it apart and rewriting the whole thing, or even just taking the idea and running with it, feel free. Just let me know so I can read it. And comment on the hinted canon references in the fic.
Justin is still just a little afraid of Bruce. There's this hard edge to him, even when he is friendly and open and easygoing, there are certain subjects that will slam the walls right up. So Justin avoids topics like Bruces' family.
Watching the stupid interviewer boldly venture to uncharted territory is strangely fascinating, like really ugly people are. You can't help staring.
- You seem to be getting along with Aston Kutcher, care to comment on that?
- Look, lady,
Here we go, Justin thinks, the word 'lady' with that tone of voice is like a big honking warning sign.
- all over the world people are getting along with their exs' new spouses. It'd be really stupid not to, especially if you have kids, because they should always come first.
Bruce is giving the press secretary a weighted look while he speaks and she comes over, apologises the 'lady', that's all they had time for. He and Bruce get up to follow her, and Justin takes his cues from Bruce, apologises after him, too, and they're off.
Bruce doesn't comment on the interview. Justin doesn't ask.
They go back to the set, to sit around and wait. Bruce flips open his phone and calls someone. Justin isn't really listening, he's reading the script and thinking for maybe a millionth time, that Matt Farrell is so obviously a little in love with McClane.
- Man, I miss you.
It's said with such a soft voice, that it makes him pay attention. Bruce is smiling and has this far away look on his face. Justin feels a bit guilty to be listening a private phone call like this, but Bruce doesn't seem to notice.
Justin pretends to concentrate on the script, but he can multitask.
- I know, but can't you get a gig at New York? Haven't seen you on stage for ages.
Justin thinks he knows now who Bruce is calling, and jealousy spikes. Mos Def and Bruce had became friends filming '16 Blocks', and he has seen pictures of them together, seen the easy comradely between them. It's not like that between him and Bruce. He knows it's stupid, but he is right up there with Kevin on the hetero man-crush. Hel-lo, it's Bruce Willis! And maybe that's why. Maybe he is unconsciously projecting his admiration and Bruce is uncomfortable with that.
Or maybe he is just over-analysing.
- I feel you, got one today. Don't they teach them anything these days?
- Come up here and we'll see who's old.
- You know I can't rap to save my life. How about some blues? Up for that?
- Alright, looking forward. Lemme know.
Justin is going to want to see that gig.
- Done listening Jack?
Bruce smiles like he knows what Justin is thinking and judging by the running joke movie reference he isn't pissed.
- You wouldn't have made the call here if it'd been private.
Justin nods at the group of crew people near by.
Bruce just smiles at him.
- Go get me some coffee.
He is half up of his chair before he realizes what he is doing.
- You can go get your own damn coffee, *Ennis*.
He sits back down and glares Bruce a little.
Bruce glares back and he is way more scary than Justin can even dream to be. Then he gets up, probably to go find that coffee he wanted.
Maybe it's not like he thinks it is. Theirs is a different kind of friendship than what Bruce and Mos Def have. Somehow he doesn't think those two joke about being gay lovers. In a way it's better thet he is not so close to Bruce. Because then he might start getting ideas. And Bruce might not like it that he got them, or that he wouldn't come out of a closet to him.
********************************
A few weeks later Bruce has a party. On Monday, on the set, he tells Justin to not make any plans for the weekend, that he is having a barbecue. In L.A. Friday after the shoot they all get in the private jet Bruce has "borrowed from a friend". Some friends he has. The plane looks like it belongs to a Russian mob boss.
It's late when they arrive, and they go straight to Bruces' house and crash. It's not a house really. More like a mansion. There is an entire floor of guest rooms. Enough that he and Maggie and Len and Timothy and Mary Elizabeth and Simon can all have their own rooms.
He wanders to kitchen in the morning, only half awake, cause he is not a morning person, and he needs coffee before he can function even enough to take a shower. Bruce is sitting by the breakfast bar, reading a newspaper. Barefoot, wearing jeans and a white wifebeater. He looks hot and it's unfair for him to do so at this hour. Justin greets him and navigates to the coffee machine.
Bruce follows him with his eyes, he can almost feel the look on the back of his neck. He goes to sit next to Bruce, eyes closed he breathes in the scent of the fresh brew.
- You need some privacy with that?
Bruce asks, laughter in his voice.
He looks up and sticks out his tongue.
Bruce chuckles at him.
- That an invitation?
Justin just stares. No way did Bruce just throw a come-on at him. As a joke, yes, but still. He is not yet awake enough to have any witty comeback, and he tells Bruce that.
- Not fair man, wait until I have had this and its friend. And probably a shower too. I'll get back to you on that after.
- So I can expect a blowjob after you are awake? Thanks man, it's been a while.
Bruce is laughing out loud now.
- Not funny,
Justin mumbles to his coffee, but it is, and he can't help to laugh too. He really should keep his mouth shut when his brain isn't working. He is ruining his reputation here. Isn't he supposed to be the comedian?
Much later, after lounging by the pool and having great Greek food for lunch, hanging around, the other guests start to arrive. Among them is *Justin Timberlake*. Justin *Long* is therefore screwed. Lance Armstrong who once dated his ex is now very hush-hush together with his ex-bandmate Justin Timberlake who is a friend of Bruces' and Justin wants to go hide somewhere. He doesn't want to meet his namesake.
Too late.
- Hi,
Timberlake greets him.
He answers and they hug. Apparently he is going to face the music like a man. The music, heh, he is killing himself with his puns.
But nothing happens. They hang out, drink, grill food, eat, shoot pool and play Texas Hold'em. Relaxed and friendly and fun.
Small hours, he and Bruce and Justin are sitting outside, watching the city lights through the smoke of Bruces' cigar. He doesn't know how he ended up there with those two. He thinks he is maybe a little drunk. Bruce has been drinking soda all night, and he would have felt bad about drinking around a recovering alcoholic, but it had been Bruce who had given him a glass of that obscenely *smooth* whisky, and a beer chaser, so.
- I hear JT knows someone who knows someone who knows you?
Justin can't keep up with how many degrees of separation they're talking about here, but he knows what Bruce is getting at.
- I'm sorry man. It's not like I don't trust you, it's just that it's not something you can work into a conversation.
Even as he speaks, he knows he's grasping straws. Cause they talk about being gay *all the time*.
- Yeah, Jack, smooth.
Ok, he knew that wouldn't fly.
- I think I have to go now.
Timberlake announces. They all get up, he and Bruce hug JT who steals Bruces half-smoked cigar as he leaves.
- So tell me why. I have given you enough openings and you know I'm not a homophobe.
Even though he is drunk, he understands something about Bruce then. If you want to be friends with him, you have to be completely honest. Be yourself. In profession that is all about faking it and make-believe and surface, Bruce has his own way of making relationships work.
- I get it now.
Bruce gives him a one-armed hug, and leaves that arm wrapped around his shoulders.
- Good.
The man tells him with that gruff voice he has gotten from smoking those, probably Cubans, Justin thinks. It'd go with the quality of the alcohol and coffee the man has.
It feels good too, to know that it wasn't because of who he is Bruce kept him at arms length. He's not jealous of Mos Def any more, or anybody. He snuggles a bit closer to Bruce, smiles up to him. Bruce chuckles. They sit like that for a while, but he starts to doze of. He really can't hold his liquor.
- Com'on, off to bed with you while you still can walk.
Then Bruce looks at him questioningly,
- You can walk, right? I'm not carrying you to bed.
He tries to look wounded as he gets up, and with a help of a steadying hand around his waist, he stumbles to bed.
It's his own damn fault that his mouth tastes like some little animal had crawled in there and died, and that there is an insistent drummer wanna-be taking a residence in his head. Timothy is standing at his door, head tilted, smiling at him.
- Hangover?
- Noo, I look like this every morning I wake up,
he replies and tries to smile.
Timothy walks over and hands him some painkillers and a glass of water.
- Everybody else is downstairs already.
- Oh my god, what time is it?
- Don't worry, we don't have to leave for several hours, it's just that Mos Def came by, and Bruce thought you'd like to meet him.
Justin doesn't. Not with the way he smells and feels and looks like right now. But he'll heal.
After a shower and a trip to kitchen, where he stealthily inhales a cup of coffee, he wanders over to the pool. Everything seemed to happen there. There were sun chairs, tables with regular chairs, and obviously the pool itself. They are all there, Maggie and Mary Elizabeth, avidly listening Mos Def taking about something, Len, Tim and Simon pretending not to be just as fascinated by the tale, and Bruce sitting there, close by, just watching them. Mos Def looks up to him, having noticed him by the noise his bare feet make as he steps outside.
- Hey man, good to see ya 'mong tha livin'.
The man grins and introduces himself,
- Mos Def, for Most Definitely. Heard a lot 'bout ya.
- Nice to meet you. Justin Long.
They shake hands.
- Wanted to c'me to the party, this guy's elusiv.
Mos Def nods towards Bruce.
Justin would be really jealous right now, if he hadn't gotten that new insight on Bruce last night. He makes an affirmative noise and sits down by the table. The oj pitcher is calling him, and Mos Def gets back to his story. He sits back and listens. The man is storyteller, and good at that.
Author: latte_vanilla so far
Fandom: Die Hard 4.0 RPS
Pairing: Bruce Willis/Justin Long
Rating: Lame, nothing happens so far, just innuendo
Length: ~1800 words
Warnings: Un-finished. Pretty much the first draft. Not betad.
Summary: Justin has a bit of a crush on Bruce. Bruce hosts a barbecue and things turn interesting. Featuring the rest of the primary cast and crew of Die Hard 4.0 to some extent, and Justin Timberlake and Mos Def.
A/N: This is unfinished. I'm not likely to ever finish this, and I posted this because maybe someone would like to take over. *Waves to people from hard4brains, hope someone followed the link here.* If anyone is interested in continuing, ripping it apart and rewriting the whole thing, or even just taking the idea and running with it, feel free. Just let me know so I can read it. And comment on the hinted canon references in the fic.
Justin is still just a little afraid of Bruce. There's this hard edge to him, even when he is friendly and open and easygoing, there are certain subjects that will slam the walls right up. So Justin avoids topics like Bruces' family.
Watching the stupid interviewer boldly venture to uncharted territory is strangely fascinating, like really ugly people are. You can't help staring.
- You seem to be getting along with Aston Kutcher, care to comment on that?
- Look, lady,
Here we go, Justin thinks, the word 'lady' with that tone of voice is like a big honking warning sign.
- all over the world people are getting along with their exs' new spouses. It'd be really stupid not to, especially if you have kids, because they should always come first.
Bruce is giving the press secretary a weighted look while he speaks and she comes over, apologises the 'lady', that's all they had time for. He and Bruce get up to follow her, and Justin takes his cues from Bruce, apologises after him, too, and they're off.
Bruce doesn't comment on the interview. Justin doesn't ask.
They go back to the set, to sit around and wait. Bruce flips open his phone and calls someone. Justin isn't really listening, he's reading the script and thinking for maybe a millionth time, that Matt Farrell is so obviously a little in love with McClane.
- Man, I miss you.
It's said with such a soft voice, that it makes him pay attention. Bruce is smiling and has this far away look on his face. Justin feels a bit guilty to be listening a private phone call like this, but Bruce doesn't seem to notice.
Justin pretends to concentrate on the script, but he can multitask.
- I know, but can't you get a gig at New York? Haven't seen you on stage for ages.
Justin thinks he knows now who Bruce is calling, and jealousy spikes. Mos Def and Bruce had became friends filming '16 Blocks', and he has seen pictures of them together, seen the easy comradely between them. It's not like that between him and Bruce. He knows it's stupid, but he is right up there with Kevin on the hetero man-crush. Hel-lo, it's Bruce Willis! And maybe that's why. Maybe he is unconsciously projecting his admiration and Bruce is uncomfortable with that.
Or maybe he is just over-analysing.
- I feel you, got one today. Don't they teach them anything these days?
- Come up here and we'll see who's old.
- You know I can't rap to save my life. How about some blues? Up for that?
- Alright, looking forward. Lemme know.
Justin is going to want to see that gig.
- Done listening Jack?
Bruce smiles like he knows what Justin is thinking and judging by the running joke movie reference he isn't pissed.
- You wouldn't have made the call here if it'd been private.
Justin nods at the group of crew people near by.
Bruce just smiles at him.
- Go get me some coffee.
He is half up of his chair before he realizes what he is doing.
- You can go get your own damn coffee, *Ennis*.
He sits back down and glares Bruce a little.
Bruce glares back and he is way more scary than Justin can even dream to be. Then he gets up, probably to go find that coffee he wanted.
Maybe it's not like he thinks it is. Theirs is a different kind of friendship than what Bruce and Mos Def have. Somehow he doesn't think those two joke about being gay lovers. In a way it's better thet he is not so close to Bruce. Because then he might start getting ideas. And Bruce might not like it that he got them, or that he wouldn't come out of a closet to him.
********************************
A few weeks later Bruce has a party. On Monday, on the set, he tells Justin to not make any plans for the weekend, that he is having a barbecue. In L.A. Friday after the shoot they all get in the private jet Bruce has "borrowed from a friend". Some friends he has. The plane looks like it belongs to a Russian mob boss.
It's late when they arrive, and they go straight to Bruces' house and crash. It's not a house really. More like a mansion. There is an entire floor of guest rooms. Enough that he and Maggie and Len and Timothy and Mary Elizabeth and Simon can all have their own rooms.
He wanders to kitchen in the morning, only half awake, cause he is not a morning person, and he needs coffee before he can function even enough to take a shower. Bruce is sitting by the breakfast bar, reading a newspaper. Barefoot, wearing jeans and a white wifebeater. He looks hot and it's unfair for him to do so at this hour. Justin greets him and navigates to the coffee machine.
Bruce follows him with his eyes, he can almost feel the look on the back of his neck. He goes to sit next to Bruce, eyes closed he breathes in the scent of the fresh brew.
- You need some privacy with that?
Bruce asks, laughter in his voice.
He looks up and sticks out his tongue.
Bruce chuckles at him.
- That an invitation?
Justin just stares. No way did Bruce just throw a come-on at him. As a joke, yes, but still. He is not yet awake enough to have any witty comeback, and he tells Bruce that.
- Not fair man, wait until I have had this and its friend. And probably a shower too. I'll get back to you on that after.
- So I can expect a blowjob after you are awake? Thanks man, it's been a while.
Bruce is laughing out loud now.
- Not funny,
Justin mumbles to his coffee, but it is, and he can't help to laugh too. He really should keep his mouth shut when his brain isn't working. He is ruining his reputation here. Isn't he supposed to be the comedian?
Much later, after lounging by the pool and having great Greek food for lunch, hanging around, the other guests start to arrive. Among them is *Justin Timberlake*. Justin *Long* is therefore screwed. Lance Armstrong who once dated his ex is now very hush-hush together with his ex-bandmate Justin Timberlake who is a friend of Bruces' and Justin wants to go hide somewhere. He doesn't want to meet his namesake.
Too late.
- Hi,
Timberlake greets him.
He answers and they hug. Apparently he is going to face the music like a man. The music, heh, he is killing himself with his puns.
But nothing happens. They hang out, drink, grill food, eat, shoot pool and play Texas Hold'em. Relaxed and friendly and fun.
Small hours, he and Bruce and Justin are sitting outside, watching the city lights through the smoke of Bruces' cigar. He doesn't know how he ended up there with those two. He thinks he is maybe a little drunk. Bruce has been drinking soda all night, and he would have felt bad about drinking around a recovering alcoholic, but it had been Bruce who had given him a glass of that obscenely *smooth* whisky, and a beer chaser, so.
- I hear JT knows someone who knows someone who knows you?
Justin can't keep up with how many degrees of separation they're talking about here, but he knows what Bruce is getting at.
- I'm sorry man. It's not like I don't trust you, it's just that it's not something you can work into a conversation.
Even as he speaks, he knows he's grasping straws. Cause they talk about being gay *all the time*.
- Yeah, Jack, smooth.
Ok, he knew that wouldn't fly.
- I think I have to go now.
Timberlake announces. They all get up, he and Bruce hug JT who steals Bruces half-smoked cigar as he leaves.
- So tell me why. I have given you enough openings and you know I'm not a homophobe.
Even though he is drunk, he understands something about Bruce then. If you want to be friends with him, you have to be completely honest. Be yourself. In profession that is all about faking it and make-believe and surface, Bruce has his own way of making relationships work.
- I get it now.
Bruce gives him a one-armed hug, and leaves that arm wrapped around his shoulders.
- Good.
The man tells him with that gruff voice he has gotten from smoking those, probably Cubans, Justin thinks. It'd go with the quality of the alcohol and coffee the man has.
It feels good too, to know that it wasn't because of who he is Bruce kept him at arms length. He's not jealous of Mos Def any more, or anybody. He snuggles a bit closer to Bruce, smiles up to him. Bruce chuckles. They sit like that for a while, but he starts to doze of. He really can't hold his liquor.
- Com'on, off to bed with you while you still can walk.
Then Bruce looks at him questioningly,
- You can walk, right? I'm not carrying you to bed.
He tries to look wounded as he gets up, and with a help of a steadying hand around his waist, he stumbles to bed.
It's his own damn fault that his mouth tastes like some little animal had crawled in there and died, and that there is an insistent drummer wanna-be taking a residence in his head. Timothy is standing at his door, head tilted, smiling at him.
- Hangover?
- Noo, I look like this every morning I wake up,
he replies and tries to smile.
Timothy walks over and hands him some painkillers and a glass of water.
- Everybody else is downstairs already.
- Oh my god, what time is it?
- Don't worry, we don't have to leave for several hours, it's just that Mos Def came by, and Bruce thought you'd like to meet him.
Justin doesn't. Not with the way he smells and feels and looks like right now. But he'll heal.
After a shower and a trip to kitchen, where he stealthily inhales a cup of coffee, he wanders over to the pool. Everything seemed to happen there. There were sun chairs, tables with regular chairs, and obviously the pool itself. They are all there, Maggie and Mary Elizabeth, avidly listening Mos Def taking about something, Len, Tim and Simon pretending not to be just as fascinated by the tale, and Bruce sitting there, close by, just watching them. Mos Def looks up to him, having noticed him by the noise his bare feet make as he steps outside.
- Hey man, good to see ya 'mong tha livin'.
The man grins and introduces himself,
- Mos Def, for Most Definitely. Heard a lot 'bout ya.
- Nice to meet you. Justin Long.
They shake hands.
- Wanted to c'me to the party, this guy's elusiv.
Mos Def nods towards Bruce.
Justin would be really jealous right now, if he hadn't gotten that new insight on Bruce last night. He makes an affirmative noise and sits down by the table. The oj pitcher is calling him, and Mos Def gets back to his story. He sits back and listens. The man is storyteller, and good at that.