Accidental Intimacy
Title: Accidental Intimacy
Fandom:VRV
Characters/Pairings:Alex/Grace
Rating:PG-13
Disclaimer: All belongs to vylentcrymz and I
When Dean and Hope asked him to come home for a visit, Alex spent a good hour coming up with excuses to avoid it. It wasn’t that he was a horrible friend, or that he didn’t miss them. He just knew that spending a week with your ex and your best friend was bound to be awkward, even if they weren’t sleeping together while you were gone.
There was one small bright spot that made him say yes: Gracie.
Alex was ready to admit his crush on Gracie made him a horrible person. She was married, or as good as married anyway. Grace and Hunter were this completely nauseating pair, the kind of couple you hear about in country songs or Sparks novels, but when he called Dean to cancel, he heard her voice.
“Alex is coming?”
There was something there, a smidge of hope that he could have sworn he heard even through the phone line.
Hope didn’t notice. “Of course,” she chirped. “And if he doesn’t I get to hurt him.”
When he did show up, things weren’t nearly as bad as he thought they would be. The first night Dean and Hope took him to this posh new place that opened up while he was gone. Dean inhaled a steak bigger than his plate, and Hope’s baked potato to boot, and that’s when he realized one thing. The three of them would probably never change, even if their relationships to each other did.
Even though Alex was starting to come around on the whole Dean and Hope front, he still didn’t wanna sit through another dinner where they gave each other puppy dog looks and played footsie when they thought he wasn’t paying attention.
After practically pushing them out the front door, Alex toed off his sneakers and settled in on Dean’s sofa, ready for a night of made for TV movies and Pay Per View. Then the phone rang. He hesitated before answering, unsure of what you were supposed to do when the phone rang in someone else’s house, but the machine kicked in after three rings and Alex perked up when he heard a familiar voice.
“Hope?” Grace asked hopefully. “Crap, I guess I missed you. I was going to ask you if you wanted to go to that jazz club that just opened up downtown but since you’re not ho-”
Alex picked up the phone so fast he nearly knocked the cradle off the table.
“Grace?” he asked breathlessly.
“Alex! Hey! I thought you guys were-” she paused, suddenly feeling a little awkward. “Uh, did I call at a bad time?”
“What? Why would you think that?”
“You’re a little out of breath,” Grace clarified.
“Oh. Oh,” Alex tried not to groan, rolling his eyes. “Nothing naughty going on here, I promise. I was just…I ran to get to get the phone,” he said awkwardly.
“Oh, right.”
“You uh, said something about a jazz club?” he asked, attempting to save the conversation.
“Oh! Yeah, a new one just opened up downtown, Hope said we should go but…”
“She’s not here,” Alex filled in sympathetically. “Well, can’t you just get Hunter to take you?”
There was a pause. It was too long to be an accident, and he immediately felt a little stab of guilt in the pit of his stomach.
“He’s busy,” she said finally. “Besides, he’s not big with the whole… club thing.”
He nodded like he understood, even though he sort of didn’t and she couldn’t see him anyway. “Well, I’m not busy tonight,” he said slowly. “Want me to come with?”
“Really!? That’d be amazing Alex. Wait, I don’t know you were into jazz.”
“I’m not,” he admitted. “I watched Chicago. Does that count?”
She giggled. “Yeah, it counts. Besides, I’m desperate so you’re coming.”
Alex bit back a smile. “Gee, thanks,” he said dryly.
“You’re welcome,” she chirped. “So…I’ll pick you up in an hour?”
“Oh, I dunno. I’m gonna need at least an hour to get ready,” he teased.
He got another giggle for his trouble before they said their goodbyes and he stood in front of Hope’s bedroom mirror, wondering what the hell was wrong with him.
Why had he jumped at the chance to spend a night out with Gracie? Sure, he had a bit of a crush, but he promised himself he’d try to avoid close contact Gracie while he was there.
So why was he on pins and needles, with that nervous excitement gnawing at his stomach like this was a… well, date?
“It’s not a date,” Alex said firmly as he made his way across the hall and into the guest room. “She doesn’t even like you that much.” He plopped his overstuffed bag onto the bed, struggling with the zipper. “She’s just being nice. She’s just a nice person, that’s all it is.” He paused, making a face. “Oh, god, I’m talking to myself. I thought only girls could turn into their mothers.”
Despite the fact that Gracie was “just a nice person” Alex still spent a good fifteen minutes sorting through all the jeans and shirts he had packed for the trip, trying (and failing) to convince himself that it was just because he liked to look presentable when he went out.
Grace came by an hour later, just like she promised, and Alex answered the door wearing a slightly snug black tee shirt and his favorite jeans. Gracie looked effortlessly glamorous in a black beaded camisole top, and black dress pants.
“Hey, we kinda match,” she joked as she walked in.
“Well, I dunno about you, but I was going for the Simon Cowell look.”
“Guilty,” she said with a grin, looking around the room. “Wow, they really let you have the place to yourself?”
“Yup! They did ask me if I wanted to go to dinner with them but, I asked for a rain check.”
“Couldn’t take the mushyness, huh?” she said with a knowing smile.
“Oh god no.”
“Really? Last I heard you were all hot and heavy with that costar of yours, Morgan.”
“Marina,” he corrected automatically before his eyes widened. “Wait, where did you hear that!?”
She ducked her head sheepishly. “On the cover of Soap Opera Weekly.”
He grinned, holding open the door for her. “Come on, we can talk about that on the way over.”
They were just turning on the outside lights as they arrived at the club. The bright blue and lime green beams played off of Gracie’s dark hair, making her look like a punk rocker standing in front of the wrong kind of hang out.
She laughed, throwing her head back at Alex’s latest story as she walked through the frosted glass doors.
“Wait, so the guy sent you flowers!? I don’t believe you.”
“I swear to god,” Alex said solemnly, shutting the door behind him. “It was the weirdest thing that ever happened to me. But, sort of flattering at the same time, which I guess makes it even weirder.”
“You are so sweet,” she said honestly. “Most guys would have been totally freaked out about it, and they definitely wouldn’t appreciate it. No wonder you have adoring fans sending you flowers.”
He ducked his head, glad that the club was dark enough to hide his red cheeks. “It’s nice in here, huh?” he asked, hoping for a subject change.
“It’s beautiful,” she said almost breathlessly. “Look at that piano.”
He already had. It was a Baldwin, shined and polished until it sparkled like a new penny. He was pretty sure there was more wax on that thing than he had on his car back home, but it took center stage, as did the Taye Diggs lookalike sitting behind it.
They ordered slow gin fizzes and (Because what goes better with jazz than a little gin?) sipped them as carefully as their name suggested as they waited for the show to start.
His fingers flew across the keys just like any wise talking piano man in any vintage film. The band started up soon after, and Alex got sucked in, savoring every last note until he was practically drunk off them.
He stole a look at Gracie whenever he could, smiling as he heard the faintest clicking sound of her flats tapping out the beat under the table.
Pushing his drink aside, he leaned in closer, his lips dangerously close to her ear even though all he was really trying to make sure he was heard. “Wanna dance?”
She jumped, taking a minute before fully regaining her composure. “Sure,” she said, biting her lip. “So do you know how to dance to this stuff?”
“No idea,” he said honestly. “But I figure I’ll just follow those guys,” he added, nodding toward a few couples in the center of the floor.
She smiled a little before slowly rising from her seat, waiting for Alex to follow.
Just as they reached the floor, the song ended, and was replaced with something slower. It was soft and bluesy, the notes wonderfully lazy and dragged out, and Alex guessed this was the twenties version of a slow dance.
They stood there for a moment, big blue eyes not quite meeting hazel before he threw caution to the wind and grabbed her hand.
“Well, I did promise you a dance, right?” he murmured as he pulled her a little closer.
Their was a small smile playing on her lips. It was so well hidden that for a moment he thought he imagined it, until she said: “Yeah, okay.”
They moved awkwardly together. Alex had never been particularly graceful, and Grace seemed to have trouble adjusting to the height difference. Both of them tried to make small talk, opening their mouths to start a sentence like “This is really cool” or “Hunter never dances” but not even so much as a first word managed to escape them.
They inched closer without realizing it, her head was inches from his shoulder, his hand was slowly slipping lower and lower down her back, but before they knew it the song was over, and so was their moment.
Grace’s breath hitched a little as she realized what she was doing, untwining her fingers that had somehow managed to get themselves laced with Alex’s.
“Well, that was fun,” she said awkwardly.
“Yeah,” Alex said softly, biting his lip.
A little too much, his brain added for him.
Fandom:VRV
Characters/Pairings:Alex/Grace
Rating:PG-13
Disclaimer: All belongs to vylentcrymz and I
When Dean and Hope asked him to come home for a visit, Alex spent a good hour coming up with excuses to avoid it. It wasn’t that he was a horrible friend, or that he didn’t miss them. He just knew that spending a week with your ex and your best friend was bound to be awkward, even if they weren’t sleeping together while you were gone.
There was one small bright spot that made him say yes: Gracie.
Alex was ready to admit his crush on Gracie made him a horrible person. She was married, or as good as married anyway. Grace and Hunter were this completely nauseating pair, the kind of couple you hear about in country songs or Sparks novels, but when he called Dean to cancel, he heard her voice.
“Alex is coming?”
There was something there, a smidge of hope that he could have sworn he heard even through the phone line.
Hope didn’t notice. “Of course,” she chirped. “And if he doesn’t I get to hurt him.”
When he did show up, things weren’t nearly as bad as he thought they would be. The first night Dean and Hope took him to this posh new place that opened up while he was gone. Dean inhaled a steak bigger than his plate, and Hope’s baked potato to boot, and that’s when he realized one thing. The three of them would probably never change, even if their relationships to each other did.
Even though Alex was starting to come around on the whole Dean and Hope front, he still didn’t wanna sit through another dinner where they gave each other puppy dog looks and played footsie when they thought he wasn’t paying attention.
After practically pushing them out the front door, Alex toed off his sneakers and settled in on Dean’s sofa, ready for a night of made for TV movies and Pay Per View. Then the phone rang. He hesitated before answering, unsure of what you were supposed to do when the phone rang in someone else’s house, but the machine kicked in after three rings and Alex perked up when he heard a familiar voice.
“Hope?” Grace asked hopefully. “Crap, I guess I missed you. I was going to ask you if you wanted to go to that jazz club that just opened up downtown but since you’re not ho-”
Alex picked up the phone so fast he nearly knocked the cradle off the table.
“Grace?” he asked breathlessly.
“Alex! Hey! I thought you guys were-” she paused, suddenly feeling a little awkward. “Uh, did I call at a bad time?”
“What? Why would you think that?”
“You’re a little out of breath,” Grace clarified.
“Oh. Oh,” Alex tried not to groan, rolling his eyes. “Nothing naughty going on here, I promise. I was just…I ran to get to get the phone,” he said awkwardly.
“Oh, right.”
“You uh, said something about a jazz club?” he asked, attempting to save the conversation.
“Oh! Yeah, a new one just opened up downtown, Hope said we should go but…”
“She’s not here,” Alex filled in sympathetically. “Well, can’t you just get Hunter to take you?”
There was a pause. It was too long to be an accident, and he immediately felt a little stab of guilt in the pit of his stomach.
“He’s busy,” she said finally. “Besides, he’s not big with the whole… club thing.”
He nodded like he understood, even though he sort of didn’t and she couldn’t see him anyway. “Well, I’m not busy tonight,” he said slowly. “Want me to come with?”
“Really!? That’d be amazing Alex. Wait, I don’t know you were into jazz.”
“I’m not,” he admitted. “I watched Chicago. Does that count?”
She giggled. “Yeah, it counts. Besides, I’m desperate so you’re coming.”
Alex bit back a smile. “Gee, thanks,” he said dryly.
“You’re welcome,” she chirped. “So…I’ll pick you up in an hour?”
“Oh, I dunno. I’m gonna need at least an hour to get ready,” he teased.
He got another giggle for his trouble before they said their goodbyes and he stood in front of Hope’s bedroom mirror, wondering what the hell was wrong with him.
Why had he jumped at the chance to spend a night out with Gracie? Sure, he had a bit of a crush, but he promised himself he’d try to avoid close contact Gracie while he was there.
So why was he on pins and needles, with that nervous excitement gnawing at his stomach like this was a… well, date?
“It’s not a date,” Alex said firmly as he made his way across the hall and into the guest room. “She doesn’t even like you that much.” He plopped his overstuffed bag onto the bed, struggling with the zipper. “She’s just being nice. She’s just a nice person, that’s all it is.” He paused, making a face. “Oh, god, I’m talking to myself. I thought only girls could turn into their mothers.”
Despite the fact that Gracie was “just a nice person” Alex still spent a good fifteen minutes sorting through all the jeans and shirts he had packed for the trip, trying (and failing) to convince himself that it was just because he liked to look presentable when he went out.
Grace came by an hour later, just like she promised, and Alex answered the door wearing a slightly snug black tee shirt and his favorite jeans. Gracie looked effortlessly glamorous in a black beaded camisole top, and black dress pants.
“Hey, we kinda match,” she joked as she walked in.
“Well, I dunno about you, but I was going for the Simon Cowell look.”
“Guilty,” she said with a grin, looking around the room. “Wow, they really let you have the place to yourself?”
“Yup! They did ask me if I wanted to go to dinner with them but, I asked for a rain check.”
“Couldn’t take the mushyness, huh?” she said with a knowing smile.
“Oh god no.”
“Really? Last I heard you were all hot and heavy with that costar of yours, Morgan.”
“Marina,” he corrected automatically before his eyes widened. “Wait, where did you hear that!?”
She ducked her head sheepishly. “On the cover of Soap Opera Weekly.”
He grinned, holding open the door for her. “Come on, we can talk about that on the way over.”
They were just turning on the outside lights as they arrived at the club. The bright blue and lime green beams played off of Gracie’s dark hair, making her look like a punk rocker standing in front of the wrong kind of hang out.
She laughed, throwing her head back at Alex’s latest story as she walked through the frosted glass doors.
“Wait, so the guy sent you flowers!? I don’t believe you.”
“I swear to god,” Alex said solemnly, shutting the door behind him. “It was the weirdest thing that ever happened to me. But, sort of flattering at the same time, which I guess makes it even weirder.”
“You are so sweet,” she said honestly. “Most guys would have been totally freaked out about it, and they definitely wouldn’t appreciate it. No wonder you have adoring fans sending you flowers.”
He ducked his head, glad that the club was dark enough to hide his red cheeks. “It’s nice in here, huh?” he asked, hoping for a subject change.
“It’s beautiful,” she said almost breathlessly. “Look at that piano.”
He already had. It was a Baldwin, shined and polished until it sparkled like a new penny. He was pretty sure there was more wax on that thing than he had on his car back home, but it took center stage, as did the Taye Diggs lookalike sitting behind it.
They ordered slow gin fizzes and (Because what goes better with jazz than a little gin?) sipped them as carefully as their name suggested as they waited for the show to start.
His fingers flew across the keys just like any wise talking piano man in any vintage film. The band started up soon after, and Alex got sucked in, savoring every last note until he was practically drunk off them.
He stole a look at Gracie whenever he could, smiling as he heard the faintest clicking sound of her flats tapping out the beat under the table.
Pushing his drink aside, he leaned in closer, his lips dangerously close to her ear even though all he was really trying to make sure he was heard. “Wanna dance?”
She jumped, taking a minute before fully regaining her composure. “Sure,” she said, biting her lip. “So do you know how to dance to this stuff?”
“No idea,” he said honestly. “But I figure I’ll just follow those guys,” he added, nodding toward a few couples in the center of the floor.
She smiled a little before slowly rising from her seat, waiting for Alex to follow.
Just as they reached the floor, the song ended, and was replaced with something slower. It was soft and bluesy, the notes wonderfully lazy and dragged out, and Alex guessed this was the twenties version of a slow dance.
They stood there for a moment, big blue eyes not quite meeting hazel before he threw caution to the wind and grabbed her hand.
“Well, I did promise you a dance, right?” he murmured as he pulled her a little closer.
Their was a small smile playing on her lips. It was so well hidden that for a moment he thought he imagined it, until she said: “Yeah, okay.”
They moved awkwardly together. Alex had never been particularly graceful, and Grace seemed to have trouble adjusting to the height difference. Both of them tried to make small talk, opening their mouths to start a sentence like “This is really cool” or “Hunter never dances” but not even so much as a first word managed to escape them.
They inched closer without realizing it, her head was inches from his shoulder, his hand was slowly slipping lower and lower down her back, but before they knew it the song was over, and so was their moment.
Grace’s breath hitched a little as she realized what she was doing, untwining her fingers that had somehow managed to get themselves laced with Alex’s.
“Well, that was fun,” she said awkwardly.
“Yeah,” Alex said softly, biting his lip.
A little too much, his brain added for him.