Stay Awake When I'm Asleep (Jesse Eisenberg/Andrew Garfield) 3/4
Title: Stay Awake When I'm Asleep
Fandom: TSN RPF (Jesse Eisenberg/Andrew Garfield)
previous
Andrew fidgeted the first half of the drive home. Jesse wondered if maybe he was worried about Harry. Andrew said abruptly, "If you're staying with me we should go shopping. Drive over to the shopping centre."
"Really?" Jesse asked and cut across four lanes of traffic, then slammed on the brakes when someone's grandfather stopped suddenly in front of him. He was so ridiculously easy for whatever Andrew wanted.
"Must you do that?" Andrew asked, a little pale.
"No one can drive in L.A. That wasn't my fault. What do you want to shop for?"
Andrew shrugged and looked at his hands. "Oh, well, I don't know. General household things. An extra toothbrush? Do you need clothes?"
"I have clothes," said Jesse. "They're just at my place."
"Right, I know, I… You can go get those, obviously, or we could - Ooh, Bed Bath and Beyond. That's where we should go."
Jesse was so confused by him sometimes. "You need a new comforter?"
"I might. Stop arguing with me," Andrew ordered, poking him. "I have things to buy."
Harry didn't want to go into his stroller so Andrew carried him and Jesse pushed the cart. "Ooh," said Andrew, "a set of mugs for tea. I need those. And napkins! Look, they've got ducks on, that's adorable. Do you like those?" Harry reached for them, so they went into the cart.
"You can't buy everything," said Jesse, noting with some alarm that they had barely walked in the door.
"Why not?" Andrew asked, and Jesse didn't have an answer for that. "Towels!" said Andrew excitedly. "What colors do you like?"
"Uh," said Jesse. "I like, um… I don't know? Does it matter?"
"You must have a favorite color," said Andrew, scandalized. "Even Harry's got a favorite color."
"That can't possibly be true."
"It's green," said Andrew definitely, and Jesse had no idea how to argue with that, either.
"Uh, I like blue. Or colors that seem like blue. Near-blue. Blue-esque colors."
Andrew still looked a little horrified. "You must have a preference. There are six different shades of blue here." He gestured to the wall of towels and matching bathroom mats and washcloths.
"Yes, I've been completely miserable this whole time, using your towels. It's like Guantanamo Bay," said Jesse. Andrew put his hands on his hips impatiently. "I, uh…." He had the weirdest feeling that he didn't want to disappoint Andrew by picking the wrong blue. "Let Harry choose."
"It's your towel," Andrew objected. "How do you normally choose?"
Jesse spread his hands helplessly. "I pick the fluffiest one. Or the one least covered in cat hair."
"Jesse!" said Andrew, half-laughing and half-despairing. "Just point to a towel."
Jesse grabbed something in the blue family. "This seems to mean a lot to you," he said. He couldn't imagine ever in his life caring what color his towel was.
"Oh," said Andrew, offering Harry a washcloth to chew on. "I just thought, since you're staying with us, you might like… Well, I mean… I'm not trying to be presumptuous, you like the couch, I'm fine with that. Since I've got Harry and all it's probably easier and I wouldn't blame you if you weren't, um… I mean, I don't want to rush you-"
For a blinding, terrifying second Jesse thought Andrew was about to kick him out of the apartment. "Sorry, I'm in the way. I'm in the way, shit."
"No!" said Andrew quickly. Harry fidgeted and kicked and whined a little. "That's not what I meant, oh god, I'm so bad at this. I just thought. Since you're staying with us, you could… I mean. For you. You are going to stay, aren't you?" He bit his lip and looked hopeful.
Jesse couldn't believe Andrew thought he was such a dick that he'd run out before Andrew's mom got there, even if Andrew was obviously starting to feel antsy about having his space back. "Of course," said Jesse.
Andrew's smile was blinding. "Oh, good," he said. "Fantastic. Wonderful. Just… I'm really pleased. We're pleased, aren't we, Harry?"
Harry threw the washcloth on the floor and said, "Bye bye," fretfully, hiding his face against Andrew's shoulder.
"Ignore him, he's being grumpy," said Andrew. He retrieved the mildly-chewed washcloth from the floor and put it in the cart.
Jesse rolled his eyes. "You don't need to buy me anything, you know. I'm just trying to make your life easier-"
"You do," said Andrew, and then ducked his head and Jesse couldn't argue with him when he was the cutest person in the world holding the cutest baby in the world, so he just trailed after them through the store.
--
The only reason that Andrew didn't buy everything in the entire store was that eventually Harry got fussier and started to cry. Two mothers let them cut ahead in line, cooing at Harry, who turned his face away and started to scream and kick.
"Take him outside, we left the snacks and bottles in the car," said Jesse.
"I've got to pay first-" Andrew started.
"I have a wallet," said Jesse. Andrew frowned, but Harry was hanging limply from his arms trying to throw himself on the ground and crying so hard he was starting to cough and bubble snot from his nose.
"Save the receipt," Andrew ordered, and dashed for the door.
The mothers behind him in line smiled sympathetically. "That's a difficult age," one of them said.
Jesse smiled uncomfortably.
The other mother nodded. "You'll be okay, though. You two are a team. That's what it takes."
"Me and… Oh, yeah, well. We're trying," said Jesse. What was it about him that made everyone in the world assume he was dating Andrew except Andrew?
"I loved you two in the Social Network," said the first mother, patting his elbow. "You should really keep some snacks for him when you go out if you're not going to carry a pacifier. Babies like to eat before a nap. They sleep better with some food in their tummies."
"Not my Bethany, she wouldn't sleep if she'd been eating," said the second mother, and then it was Jesse's turn to check out. He bought all of the ridiculous things Andrew had filled the cart up with - plastic silverware with hippos for handles for Harry, pillowcases covered in stars ("Because you're a star!" Andrew had said excitedly), darker curtains for the living room so Jesse could sleep better, fridge magnets for some reason Jesse couldn't fathom -- and pretended he couldn't see the clerk giving him sidelong glances.
Andrew was standing outside in the parking lot trying to calm Harry down with lots of gentle bouncing and mumbled words but Harry was crying and red-faced. "He's so unhappy," said Andrew, "and I don't know what I did. What's he doing? Do you know?"
Harry was holding his hands up against his ears as if he couldn’t stand listening to Andrew for one more second, and screaming with tears. "He falls asleep when we drive him around. I'll take the long way back to your place," Jesse offered. He put all the bags into the back of the car while Andrew put Harry in his car seat.
"He doesn't want a bottle and he doesn't want a snack and he doesn't want me," said Andrew, sounding heartbroken.
"He's just tired," said Jesse, more hopefully than sure about it.
Harry quieted down once Jesse started driving but he didn't fall asleep. He was still half-awake and crying quietly to himself, and Andrew spent the entire ride twisted around in his seat and reassuringly patting Harry's foot since it was the only thing he could reach. Jesse wished he were half the baby-whisperer Andrew assumed he was, so he could fix whatever was wrong with Harry.
The baby fussed and cried while Andrew tried to put him down for a nap at home, and when Andrew closed the bedroom door they could both hear him crying through it. "He's fine," said Jesse uncertainly.
"What if he's not?" Andrew asked.
"No baby ever died from crying," Jesse said, wondering if that was true. Harry was still wailing on the other side of the door. "You want me to make some dinner?"
"No, I can… I'm going to tidy up a little and put things away and you should go back to your apartment and get your clothes. Or, honestly, you don't have to stay here with us. I don't want to make you… I mean, this isn't your problem, I don't want to make it yours. You can go and stay there tonight and I'll look after him while he's being a brat."
Andrew definitely wanted to get rid of him."He's not a brat," Jesse said. "He's just a tired little guy."
Andrew had his determined face on. "You have to keep liking him, and I don't think you will if you have to listen to him fuss. And anyway, I have to get used to taking care of him by myself eventually, don't I? Go home for a while. You deserve a break while he's being so loud."
"I can stay," Jesse offered.
"Go," Andrew insisted, pushing him toward the door.
"Okay," said Jesse unhappily. "I left dishes in my sink, I guess, and there's some stuff I should probably go get. Should I come back tonight?"
Harry started wailing again in the bedroom. "Stay at your own apartment and get some sleep; we should take turns staying sharp and you'll have him tomorrow. Harry and I will be fine," said Andrew firmly, and kicked him out.
They wouldn't be, Jesse thought. Well, really he hoped. He wanted Andrew to open the door again and say, "I'm sorry, it was all a mistake, I need you desperately, I can't do anything without you. Please stay and help me with Harry and then just forget to leave, ever."
The door didn't open and his phone didn't ring.
Jesse drove back to his own apartment and sat on the couch for a while. His copy of Moby Dick was still half-open on the coffee table, rebuking him. His apartment felt small and empty and quiet. He turned his phone on a couple of times to see if he'd accidentally silenced it and missed a call from Andrew and found he hadn't. He fell asleep on his own couch and it wasn't nearly as nice.
--
The phone finally rang just after five in the morning. Jesse fumbled for it and knocked it off the coffee table in his rush to answer. "Andrew?" he said, instead of hello.
"I think he's ill. He's barely slept and he feels warm to me. I can't drive, can you - God, oh no, I'm sorry, did I wake you up? I can call a taxi."
Jesse could hear Harry crying in the background. "I'll be there in twenty minutes, is that too long? You can call an ambulance-"
"Oh my god, do you think I need an ambulance?"
Jesse had never heard Andrew so panicked. He was used to being the one who panicked in any given situation, while Andrew smiled and laughed and cajoled him into calming down. Jesse took a deep breath and ordered himself to focus. "Is he drinking? How hot is he? Do you have a baby thermometer?"
"I haven't got anything," Andrew said. He sounded like he might cry, too.
"Okay. Then I'll be twenty-five minutes because I'm going to swing by the twenty-four-hour Rite Aid and pick up some baby Triaminic or something. Twenty-five minutes. You want me to keep the phone on speaker while I'm driving?"
"I'm fine, we're fine, we'll be fine," said Andrew. Harry sounded awful. "Please hurry. I'm sorry to wake you up, but-"
Jesse hung up and grabbed his keys, running out the door.
--
"I cleared out the entire baby aisle of the store," Jesse said, bursting in.
Andrew's apartment had dramatically devolved since Jesse had dropped him off. There were dirty towels and tissues everywhere, toys and clothes scattered across every surface, and Andrew looked a little like he'd been dragged behind a car for a couple of miles down a dirt road. Harry was red-faced and crying quietly, hiccuping unhappily to himself and clutching Andrew's sweatshirt with both hands.
"Pediasure," said Jesse, "in case he's dehydrated. A thermometer to see if he has a fever. The number of a couple of local pediatricians who make house calls in case of emergency. Fever medicine, cold medicine, cough medicine-"
"Thank you," said Andrew. He looked and sounded like he might cry. "I'm sorry it's so early, I didn't realize when I called. I thought I could be alone with him, but as soon as I was he got ill, and I-"
"If he's sick then he was sick before I left," said Jesse. He peeled Harry off Andrew's chest and let the baby cry against his shoulder instead. He did feel warm, and there was some spilled food and dried snot on his pajama shirt, but Jesse hugged him tightly anyway.
"I don't know what to do," said Andrew. He started to cross his arms and then instead waved his hands around and then tried to put them in his pockets and every line of his body language was screaming that he was about to start crying or sitting on the floor rocking back and forth.
"My jacket pocket has phone numbers," said Jesse. "Call one of the pediatricians and see who can see you first thing this morning. He's still rubbing his ear. My mom says that means he might have an ear infection."
Andrew nodded frantically. "Do you think he's sick enough to wait for a doctor? I can't tell if I'm panicking over nothing or if he's really sick, I wish he were old enough to tell me. He just cries and cries and I don't know how to make him feel better. I'm the worst caretaker in the world, he ought to be with someone who knows what they're doing."
"You're fine," said Jesse, trying to bounce Harry a little bit and calm him down. Harry was still crying fitfully so he wasn't going to like having his temperature taken. "He's fine, and you're doing fine."
"I'm not, I can't, I don't know - Oh god, did you call your mother in the middle of the night for us?"
"New York is three hours ahead, it's fine. Andrew, I never thought in a million years I'd be telling you this, but calm down. Breathe. Everything is fine." He wasn't sure whether he was lying or not, but he was sure that Andrew was on the verge of an actual breakdown.
Andrew nodded shakily and actually stopped to take a deep breath. "I'm trying," he said. "I'm just so scared I'll have waited too long and he'll be sick, and I won't have done whatever I needed to do."
"I'll take his temperature, you call the doctor," said Jesse. "It'll be okay, Andrew, I swear. Really."
"Okay," said Andrew, nodding again. "Right. Okay." He pulled out his cellphone and started dialing.
Jesse had forgotten up until he opened the package on the baby thermometer that baby's temperatures were measured in their butts, and that seemed like a horrible violation of his relationship with Harry. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, while Harry wailed and screamed and cried. "Tell the doctor he's got a fever of… One hundred and one," said Jesse.
"One hundred and - Oh, it's Fahrenheit, right, I knew that," said Andrew. "Is that bad?"
"It's not good," Jesse hedged. He offered Harry a bottle and a toy as an apology but Harry kept crying, pressing his hand against his ear.
"The doctor can see us in an hour," said Andrew. "How did your mother know the number of a doctor in L.A.?"
Jesse bit his lip. He wasn't sure he wanted to tell Andrew that his mother had apparently started looking for pediatricians directly after Jesse had told her that Andrew had a baby. She hadn't come out and said, "Because I need to know that my grandchild is looked after," but she hadn't sounded surprised, either. "She's just all kinds of awesome," he said. "She knows people."
"Tell her I love her," Andrew replied.
"I will," he said. Harry was calming down just a little. "I'll drive you both over and the doctor will fix everything. Don't worry."
"Thank you," Andrew said. "Jesse, I… Thank you."
"Hurry up," said Jesse, so he didn't say something stupid, and rubbed Harry's back until he settled down.
--
Andrew wasn't the most panicked parent in the pediatrician's waiting room. There was also a mother shouting at the receptionist about how long it was taking to see her son, and another mother trying to wrangle four children who were all trying to kill each other. Harry lay in his stroller and cried fitfully while Andrew rolled him gently back and forth. Jesse sat next to him on the tiny child-sized waiting bench and tried to look calm and seem like he wasn't worried at all, while running through increasingly apocalyptic scenarios in his head. What if Harry really was sick? What if something happened to him?
Maybe he didn't look as calm as he hoped, because Andrew inched his hand across the bench until their fingers were touching. "He'll be alright," said Andrew firmly. He wasn't hiding the shake in his voice very well.
"Yeah," said Jesse, and just because he could, he squeezed Andrew's hand with his own. Andrew smiled gratefully.
"Mr. Garfield?" said the nurse. She looked up at them and Jesse could tell the second she recognized Andrew, and then recognized him, and then tried to put her professional face back on. "The doctor is ready for you."
"I'll read Highlights. I have years of back issues to catch up on," said Jesse. Andrew laughed, more a huff of relief than anything else, and carried Harry out of the waiting room.
--
It was a long hour before Andrew came back out. Harry was sleeping against his shoulder, and Andrew was trying to juggle the baby, his cellphone, a note from the doctor, and his wallet.
"Ear infection," said Andrew shortly and thrust the phone at Jesse. "Talk to my mother, please."
"Uh," said Jesse cleverly. "Hello? Mrs. Garfield?"
"Why on earth are you there?" said a sharp voice on the other end. Jesse winced.
"I'm helping out," he said.
"Why didn't he have a doctor before this? What is he doing? A baby isn't a puppy, it isn't something you just take home with you because it's cute and you're bored or lonely."
"No, ma'am," said Jesse. "He has one now, though, and he's getting medicine and everything is going to be fine." He mouthed at Andrew, Is everything going to be fine? Andrew nodded back tiredly. He was in the middle of a discussion of American insurance that didn't look like it was going to end any time soon.
"This is why you don't adopt babies as spur-of-the-moment decisions. This is why you don't do it on a different continent from half your family. He doesn't even have a driving license!"
"Well, he's got me," said Jesse.
Mrs. Garfield was so loud he had to hold the phone away from his ear. "What kind of a plan is that? He's got a friend who might not be busy so he can take them to the doctor in case of emergency? Babies require a little more long-term planning than that!"
"He's trying," said Jesse.
"I should obviously just cancel work and get on a plane. The first thing a baby needs is a reliable pediatrician! Has Andrew found a nanny yet?"
"Well, uh," said Jesse, wishing Andrew weren't quite so caught up in arguing with the receptionist. "He's gearing up for the red carpet tomorrow in L.A. But I'm sure he's planning things."
"Handing the phone to you was an act of cowardice," she said, and hung up.
Jesse stared at Andrew's phone for a second like it was a defused bomb. "Well," he said. "Okay, then." He walked over to the desk and offered Andrew his phone back. "That was really enlightening, thank you."
Andrew made a face. "She's a bit stressed over suddenly being a grandmother and then immediately losing the grandchild to another continent," he said. "Normally she's lovely."
"I'm sure," Jesse agreed. "I'll trade you the phone for the baby."
"Coward," said Andrew, shifting Harry carefully to Jesse.
"Oh, yeah, totally," Jesse agreed. He walked Harry over to the stroller, rubbing his back and mumbling nonsense words under his breath, because he had a feeling Andrew was going to be at the desk for a while. It really was irresponsible that they hadn't thought about insurance or doctors or anything. Jesse was going to have to call his mom and find out what else he'd forgotten to think about.
He was struck, suddenly, as he put Harry down to nap, that he was making contingency plans and emergency information for someone else's baby. He was just supposed to be there to help Andrew out. Andrew didn’t even want him there all the time, he wanted to be alone with Harry, and when the crisis passed it would probably be better for everyone if Jesse got out of the way. Jesse sighed and let Harry wrap his entire hand around Jesse's finger while he slept.
--
"Garfield's late," said Marc.
Emma winced and fished her phone out of her pocket. "I'm sure he'll be here in a second," she said breezily, "don't worry. He's Spider-man, he'll show up in the nick of time." She pocket texted Where r u? Pics, tuxedo fittings, red carpet 2morrow dumass. She had been on the brink of calling Jesse all morning to make sure Andrew didn't forget, and then decided that that was too intrusive, but obviously she should have.
The text she got back looked a lot like a scene from The King's Speech. And then 20 minutes IM REALLY SORRY.
The photographer was starting to get antsy, so Emma directed a blinding smile at him. "I really want to hear what your vision is for this shoot," she said. He leered a little, which was gross, but Emma was willing to take one for the team in this case.
Half an hour later Andrew stumbled in looking like absolute hell. Emma jumped up and stopped him at the door, pretending to fix his collar so she could hiss, "I thought Jesse was taking care of this."
"Harry got ill, I was up all night with him, we've just got back from the doctor."
She wrinkled her nose. "You smell like baby vomit. Gross."
"D'you think anyone'll believe I was just on a bender?" Andrew asked hopefully.
Emma doubted it, but then she'd been trying to decide what to do about the SPIDERMAN'S BABY headline in Enquirer. It wasn't high-profile enough to seem like legitimate news yet, but it would soon. "Go wash your face and let Janine do something with this lion's mane you call hair. We'll take some pictures and get you ready for tomorrow and then we seriously need to talk about how you're going to explain Harry to the world."
"Yeah," said Andrew. "Okay. Right."
"And I'll get you some coffee." He made a face at her, which she ignored. This called for more oomph than tea could possibly have.
The photoshoot was okay, and the fitting was fine, except for how Andrew started swaying on his feet halfway through. Emma flicked him on the ear to wake him up. "Up all night? Doing anything fun, at least?" Marc asked.
"Oh, um. No, the baby was sick," said Andrew. Marc had heard a much shorter version of the story from Emma but had seemed sort of dubious about the whole thing. He looked at her, and she nodded in a, No, seriously, this is really happening way.
"You gonna be okay for tomorrow?"
"All he has to do is show up, wear a tux, and smile a lot," Emma pointed out. "He could literally do that asleep. You want me to wear something micro-mini that doesn't fit right and take the attention off you?"
"I always want that," Andrew laughed. "You'll look fantastic."
Emma tried to think of a way to start the conversation they needed to have that wouldn't be drama, but there wasn't one. Emma believed in ripping bandaids straight off. "Listen, this baby thing is set to blow up any second now. Are there more shots of you and Harry and Jesse? Because I've seen them start showing up in online gossip blogs."
Andrew went a little bit pale and sat down. His tuxedo was going to be all wrinkled before the premiere. "Oh," he said faintly. "Well."
"Your publicist needs to make some kind of statement," Emma said flatly. "Otherwise people are going to dig up the official records like it's a dirty secret." Andrew nodded. She tried to soften the blow a little. "You won't do an interview with People, you aren't going to sell pictures of him, so it's going to blow over, but there will be a few weeks where it's gonna be bad. Don't worry. Me and Jesse have your back."
"And Justin."
Emma blinked. "I'm sorry?"
Andrew laughed unhappily. "He offered to do something really outrageous to distract people. It was nice, actually."
A vague, fleeting idea occurred to Emma. "That's really sweet, ten points for Justin. Anyway between the three of us you'll be fine, but just… I don't know. Prepare yourself."
"I'm not that interesting, honestly," said Andrew.
Emma just made a face, looking pointedly at the giant Spider-man poster they'd been taking pictures in front of. Andrew sighed and deflated a little bit. Emma patted his knee sympathetically.
--
Andrew invited her for dinner, and Emma was too curious not to accept. She really, really wanted to see what kind of bizarre domestic bliss he and Jesse had settled in to. She wasn't disappointed. They walked in and Jesse was at the stove in an actual apron with polka dots on it making dinner. His glasses were a little bit steamed up from whatever he was boiling on the stove.
"Harry's napping," said Jesse. "I think he's feeling better. Oh. Hey, Emma."
Emma bit her lip to keep from giggling and waved. Andrew took his coat off and said, "That smells delicious."
"We should have called, I didn't realize Jesse was cooking," Emma said.
Jesse looked adorably confused. "Andrew texted me, I knew you were coming. I hope you like lasagna and steamed vegetables."
"I'm going to shower," said Andrew. As he walked past Jesse one of his hands moved out, fingers trailing across Jesse's waist, but so lightly that Jesse didn't seem to notice. It might have been a Thanks for being here reassuring touch, or a See? I came home again touch, but Emma had a suspicion that Andrew just took any excuse he could find to touch Jesse.
"Don't wake Harry up," was all Jesse said. Emma frowned a little bit as she sat down at Andrew's counter. Was it possible that Jesse was socially awkward enough not to notice the way Andrew looked at him? Or casually touched him?
"I um, I wasn't sure what you'd want to eat so I also made you chicken," Jesse said.
"That's really sweet," said Emma.
"And then I thought maybe you were a vegetarian so I also made you some vegetable pilaf."
"Awww, Jesse."
"But then I thought that maybe you don't eat carbs because lots of people in L.A don't eat carbs. So that's what the vegetables are for. And if that won't work I'm sure I can get you some filtered water and diet air."
It took Emma a second. "You're fucking with me. You asshole."
Jesse's smile was brilliant. "I really did make vegetables."
"You aren't allowed to teach the baby to lie just for fun," Emma said sternly. Jesse shrugged, all what-can-you-do? "Hey, I thought we had a deal that you'd keep Andrew from killing himself."
"Harry got sick. It was unplanned."
"Still. I expect better. What happened to our teamwork?"
Jesse shrugged again and looked at the floor instead of at her. "He… Um, he wanted me to leave. He needed space and to be alone with Harry or something, I guess. I can't force myself on him."
Emma frowned, trying to work that out and came up blank. She was never going to understand what the hell these two were thinking around each other. "Are you staying tonight?"
"If he wants me to," said Jesse. He started pulling food out of the oven and setting the table and Emma kicked her shoe angrily but quietly against the leg of the kitchen table.
Andrew came back out, damp and looking half-asleep. He was carrying Harry, who was a little bit pink and clutching Andrew's shirt with both hands. "He woke up when I was in there," Andrew said apologetically.
"He'll never settle down if you pick him up," said Jesse.
"He's mostly asleep anyway," said Andrew.
"So are you," said Emma.
"No, no, I'm totally awake," Andrew lied, sitting down with Harry.
Jesse handed Andrew a plate and looked at him dubiously. "If you say so."
Emma had to carry most of the conversational load during the meal; Jesse spent most of it looking at Andrew with little frown lines creasing his forehead. Andrew managed some food but spent most of the meal yawning and pretending he wasn't, or offering Harry a bottle which Harry didn't seem to want. Emma chattered about the movie and some mildly scandalous stories about people in Hollywood she was pretty sure Jesse had never heard of.
When Andrew started to nod a little bit, jerking himself back awake with visible effort, Emma decided that was enough. "You're going to drop him," she scolded. "Bed. Come on." She pried Harry off Andrew's chest and handed him to Jesse and then dragged Andrew up and toward the bedroom. Jealousy flashed across Jesse's face but he shut it down almost immediately. Emma put that aside to ponder later.
"I'm fine," Andrew insisted, but he didn't try and stop her from bullying him into bed. With great malice aforethought she kissed Andrew's cheek and patted his thigh while Jesse put Harry down in the crib. Jesse was definitely watching her from the corner of his eye and frowning. Maybe a little jealousy would get him to say something and stop being such a fucking idiot.
By the time she closed the bedroom door again she was fairly sure Andrew and Harry were both already asleep. "You know what I'm going to say," she said quietly.
"So you really don't have to," Jesse agreed, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.
She sighed. "Do I need to stage an intervention?"
Jesse shook his head. "I'm… If I screwed this up, or if I made his life with Harry harder I could never… I'd be so mad at myself, I…"
Emma sighed. Maybe if she planted a kiss on Andrew at the premier it would help things along. Or maybe, given how uncertain Jesse looked, it would make things worse. "I think it will be fine, hon. Thanks for dinner."
Jesse shrugged and smiled. Emma drove home convinced it couldn't be too much longer before they worked out that they were on the same page.
--
The red carpet was great. Andrew looked fantastic and Emma wore a scandalously short and tight dress with her favorite fuck-me shoes. They posed for all the flashing lights in front of ludicrously large posters and smiled no matter how bright the lights got.
"You look better," Emma said, leaning over to be heard.
"I finally slept," Andrew said sheepishly. "And then this morning my mum arrived unexpectedly, so that's an extra set of hands to take care of things."
"Andrew!" someone shouted. "Andrew, what's up with the baby? Any comment? We have pictures of you and Jesse Eisenberg shopping at Bed Bath and Beyond together with an infant!"
Andrew smiled politely and pretended he hadn't heard. Emma hooked her arm through his and walked him inside, waving to the cameras. "You have to say something," she said, clenching her teeth through a smile.
"My publicist is putting out something on Tuesday. Small, discreet, tasteful, and I'm supposed to ignore it all until then," said Andrew, waving to a fan.
"What if it doesn't ignore you?" Emma asked.
Andrew shrugged. "I'm trying to be zen about the whole thing. Do you think anyone'll notice if I sneak out of our movie to check and see if Jesse's texted me? Harry's still not feeling one-hundred percent."
"Yes," said Emma, "but you should do it anyway." Andrew gave her waist an affectionate squeeze and she beamed at him.
--
There was an after party to celebrate the generally good reviews ("Spider-man swings back into action!" and "Spider-man saves the day!") and then an after-after party. Andrew spent most of them frowning at his phone. He was perfectly polite to critics and friends and other people from the movie who wanted to chat, but he was also clearly distracted.
"How's Harry?" Emma asked. She'd changed into slightly less absurd footwear and had about six glasses of champagne. The whole evening felt bubbly and ridiculous and amazing.
"Mum says he's recovering. Jesse's not answering his phone, though." He typed out a text and pocketed it again. "Maybe he's gone to sleep; it's nearly one AM."
"It's almost two," Emma corrected. "You want to go home and check?"
Andrew shrugged one shoulder. "It's our party, darling," he said. "It would be rude to skip out. I love the movie and I love these people, I just…"
"You can't stop thinking about Jesse and Harry."
Andrew sighed. "I'm sorry. You look amazing." He kissed her cheek.
"I know," said Emma. "Let's get a driver and get out of here. You have important family business."
It took them another hour to get out of the party, between all the well-wishers and all the drunk people who wanted to talk to them. By the time they finally got downstairs to the car service a lot of the champagne had worn off, so Emma grabbed another flute from a caterer as they exited.
"Don't you feel high on life?" Emma asked. She reclined sideways on the leather seat. "Isn't this a fabulous event?"
"Sure," said Andrew, checking his phone.
Emma poked his thigh with the sharp end of her heel. "This is a good night to stop worrying and embrace life, Garfield."
"I'm embracing it. The party was great."
She dug the shoe in a little bit, and he winced and scooted away. "I'm implying that this would be a great night to go home, sweep in, and tell Jesse you love him."
Emma waited for him to blush and stutter and deny. He looked at his hands instead, turning his phone over and over. "I'd considered it," he said quietly.
She sat up. "Wait, really?"
Andrew shrugged and bit his lip. "I mean. I could always say I was drunk if it went wrong."
"Oh my god!" Emma squealed. "I would have dragged you out of the party hours ago if I'd known that!" She banged obnoxiously on the separation between them and the driver. "Faster! We have a romantic mission!"
"He's probably asleep," said Andrew, laughing a little. "I'm not going to wake him up for that."
"Yes, you will! After all this stupid staring at each other, someone's finally saying something! Oh god, Andrew, I'm so excited."
He laughed again. "Glad you are. My hands are all sweaty." Emma offered him the rest of her champagne, which he declined.
They pulled up at Andrew's apartment. Emma really should have let him talk to Jesse on his own but she wasn't about to give him a chance to chicken out. She asked the driver to wait and followed him up to the door, bouncing with anticipation. "It's going to be great, I promise," she said.
He rolled his eyes and unlocked the door.
An older woman stood up. "Well, it's late enough," she said, and she sounded just like Andrew.
"Sorry, we had parties we needed to attend," Andrew said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
His mother pursed her mouth a little. "Some people might have taken their mother to a nice party instead of having her fly halfway round the world to babysit. Harry's been sick, and he isn't a toy you can put away while you're busy."
"I know that, I know," said Andrew placatingly.
Mrs. Garfield sighed. "I just worry, my love," she said, patting his hand. "Anyway you're home now, I'm off to bed." She headed into the bedroom.
Andrew looked a little confused. "Is Jesse - Oh. I guess I hadn't thought. There isn't really room here for all of us, is there?" He wrinkled his nose and looked at Emma.
"Jesse didn't think so, no. He's gone back to his apartment."
Andrew deflated a little. "I'll talk to him in the morning, I suppose."
"Call him now, before you lose your nerve," Emma ordered. "Oooh, or we can drive over to his place and surprise him!" She grabbed Andrew's hand and pulled him back toward the door.
His mother looked a little confused. "You can't drive to his apartment."
"It's only about half an hour away," said Emma. "Sorry to keep Andrew out so late, but--"
"No, he's gone back to New York."
Andrew's jaw dropped. Emma had never gasped in her life when it wasn't for a movie but she gasped then, a tiny shocked inhale as if someone had hit her. "He went back to New York?" she echoed. "He… Andrew?"
Andrew couldn't get out a clear sentence. "He - But he - He said that he - I don't -- Mum, you didn't ask him to leave, did you?"
She snorted. "Half an hour after you left this afternoon he told me he had a plane ticket and walked out. I said, 'Don't you want to say goodbye to Andrew?' and he said 'No, not really, actually,' and Harry began to cry and Jesse ran like he was on fire. I think there's something wrong with him."
Andrew was somewhere between shock and losing it completely. "Come for a walk with me," Emma ordered, pulling him toward the door.
"I'll be just a few minutes," Andrew said to his mother. "Sorry."
She smiled sympathetically. "I'm off to bed, then."
Andrew followed Emma outside. It seemed colder now, and his apartment complex's yard seemed so empty. "But I asked him to stay," Andrew repeated. He looked pleadingly at Emma. "He promised me - I mean, us -- that he would."
Emma had a terrible feeling about this in the pit of her stomach. "Andrew, honey. You asked him to stay and help you with the baby because you're stressed, or… You said, 'Jesse, I love you. Please stay forever and be my boyfriend and help me with this baby'?"
"Oh, um, well," said Andrew quietly. "I… I thought it was implied."
Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes or smack her palm against her forehead. "It's Jesse. Picking up subtle social clues isn't his forté. Otherwise he'd have figured it out eons ago."
"I wasn't subtle!" Andrew protested, picking up volume. "I have been constantly and repeatedly hitting on him until even Harry must have noticed!"
"But you never out-and-out said anything?"
"I was going to! And, well, he…" Andrew shuffled his shiny expensive shoes on the gravel a little. "Whenever I got near to actually doing it he'd get this terrified look on his face, and I couldn't tell if he was scared I'd make a move or just scared he didn't know how to let me down easily. I'm pretty certain I said everything but those exact words."
Emma punched him on the arm.
"Ow!"
"You idiot," she said, and punched him again for good measure.
"Stop hitting me!" Andrew took a defensive step backwards. "He didn't want me to, okay, he made it crystal clear. We shared a bed, he said he slept better on the couch! And I asked him to stay, in case you forgot."
He was owed about ninety-five more punches by Emma's reckoning. "Skywriting wouldn't be obvious enough, you jackass. An entire symphony orchestra playing, 'Jesse I Think I Love You' wouldn't be clear. You know him so well! How could you fuck this up?"
"I…" Andrew rubbed his shoulder and gave her a hurt look. "I just couldn't stand it if I screwed things up. I wouldn't know what to do without him-"
"That's almost the exact same speech he gave me about you," Emma shouted. "Honest to god, you are the two dumbest people I have ever met!"
"I'm sorry," said Andrew. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away from her for a minute. She let him pretend it wasn't so he could take deep breaths and try not to burst into tears. "I thought it wasn't fair to be more insistent when I've got this baby to deal with, and he never signed up to date a single parent. I thought he knew what I was actually asking."
"I'll punch him when I see him again, too, don't worry."
"Don't," said Andrew. "He'd be so upset."
That was the point, Emma thought angrily to herself. "Well my night is fucking ruined. I'm going to go drink the rest of the bottle of champagne and sulk. Want to join me?"
"We have press early tomorrow," said Andrew. He glanced at his watch. "In about four hours, actually."
"I'll be fresh as a fucking daisy, you watch. The baby news drops soon?"
"Yeah." Andrew looked away again. Emma wondered what he'd hoped for, if he'd been expecting Jesse to be around to bolster his confidence when he had to face the press and photographers with Harry. Maybe having Jesse around would have made it worse, though. Two stars meant twice as big a story.
"Will you be okay?"
Andrew nodded and put his shoulders back. "I'll be fine. I'm mad at him, actually. How could he just go without waiting to say goodbye? He can be such an idiot."
"That's the spirit," said Emma. "How about instead of me tracking him down for punching, you do it."
"Maybe I will." Andrew's scowl wouldn't have fooled a child.
"And then," said Emma, "after you punch him, that's when you mention being in love with him and running away together." Andrew groaned at her. "Seriously, you have to say that part. In exactly those words. 'Jesse, I love you.' Pretend it's a script."
"I'm mad at him," Andrew repeated unconvincingly.
"Good luck with that," said Emma.
--
Emma's phone woke her up. She'd only managed a couple of hours of sleep and she didn't appreciate losing those extra six minutes of rest. There was a text from Andrew that just said, Shit shit shit shit shit.
It wasn't hard to figure out why; as soon as Emma turned on the television she saw the story about Andrew and Harry had broken. Someone had seen the pictures of them together and done some digging, found the adoption papers, and now they were on the ticker on E! scrolling across the bottom of the screen. ANDREW GARFIELD ADOPTS A BABY!! was all over the internet, too, and Emma's name turned up in some of the articles, speculating whether she'd known about it or helped with it or if Harry was secretly hers somehow.
The stories were mostly sympathetic, at least. Andrew probably didn't want his friend's drug addiction and overdose all over the television but the way Ryan Seacrest was spinning it Andrew was a saint. Obviously Andrew's publicist had released their official statement early when he'd seen the news because Ryan was quoting Andrew asking for privacy with his new family. But there were at least two sets of paparazzi photos; the ones from the night they'd been out at dinner and another couple that looked like camera phone shots of Andrew and Jesse shopping together. Andrew was holding Harry and looking tired but happy.
"I wonder when we'll get official pictures of the happy family," said Ryan. "We wish you the best of luck, Andrew! Speaking of, let's talk about how Spider-man is swinging in to theaters across the country this weekend!"
This called for drastic action. Emma sent her publicist a slightly cryptic text, then sent Andrew a much more reassuring one.
Never leaving the house again, there are photographers camped out on my step, he sent back. You'll have to go on without me.
They had interviews that afternoon, Leno in a couple of days, then flying out to New York to do Letterman, and then flying back for Conan, all of which she refused to do on her own.
Give me a couple of hours, Emma texted him, and dashed for the shower. Her plan required clean hair and a lot of lipstick.
--
"I don’t get it," said Justin.
"What's not to get?" Emma asked.
"I mean, where would we have met?"
"We have mutual friends," Emma pointed out. She resisted the urge to tug down her skirt. She had taken great pains to hit the line exactly between casual just-out-on-a-date and super-super sexy. Her hair was down and carefully tousled "We've been at some of the same parties. The point is that we might have met anywhere, now shut up and take me to lunch."
Justin grumbled under his breath. His car was so expensive Emma was almost afraid to breathe on the dashboard, and she'd been in plenty of flashy cars before. "What if I had a girlfriend?"
"You had three last I heard. This isn't going to hurt your reputation."
Justin was doing about twice the speed limit and then slamming on the brakes at every stop light. He pulled his phone out. "I've gotta call Trace before we get there."
"Who's Trace? Another girlfriend?"
Justin rolled his eyes at her and cut someone else off. Emma hated that she'd let him drive. "He's gonna call the photographers and give them a head's up. Not that I need it, 'cause they pretty much follow me around anyway. But you said this needs to happen today, right now."
This was probably a terrible idea, Emma thought, but it was also definitely going to get headlines. Justin was wearing a shiny suit jacket and a loosened tie and he didn't look awful. She couldn't back out on that account. Also, he'd shown up within half an hour of her phone call, which was better than her last boyfriend had managed, and they'd actually been dating.
Justin slammed on the brakes at the valet parking. "So have we fucked yet?"
"I'm sorry?" Emma said.
"I gotta know whether I should look like I'm still trying to get it or I already got it, babe." He flashed her his million-dollar grin, which was admittedly not that bad.
"Still trying," said Emma through gritted teeth. There was something horribly irksome about how charming Justin was. She wanted desperately to dislike him and she was having trouble doing it while he smiled at her. "We've been seeing each other on the sly and this is the first time we've gone out in public."
"But I haven't gotten into your pants yet, huh?" He tossed his keys to the valet and offered Emma his arm. It was smug and horrible and charming all at once.
"You're not going to," Emma said. She glanced over to see if anyone eating on the patio had noticed them. There were definitely a couple of tables looking, and maybe a few camera phones out. "But you're welcome to try during lunch. Now shut up and kiss me." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, hard. After a startled second Justin kissed back, opening his mouth up easily to press his tongue against hers. His jaw was a little bit rough with the beginning of stubble and his hand was big and warm against the small of her back.
He was not a terrible kisser. Emma sucked his lower lip into her mouth and bit it. He pushed his hips forward a little bit against hers and pulled her closer.
"You want to put on a show, baby, I'm your man," he grinned and started sucking on her earlobe.
"I didn't call you because I like you," Emma said, and turned a little to make sure the cameras got the best angle.
--
"I saw the movie, and it's just great," said Jay Leno. "Really entertaining. First I was like, should we really reboot this franchise so soon? And then I watched your movie, and I was like, oh!"
Andrew laughed politely. On the couch next to him Emma crossed and recrossed her legs, trying to look deeply interested.
"You two have some great chemistry in this movie, too."
The studio was freezing and the lights were so hot. Emma wondered if she was getting sweat marks under her arms. "Thanks," she said. "Andrew is so easy to fall in love with." She smiled at him and he ducked his head and the studio audience laughed and awwwed.
"And I hear beyond just the movie, congratulations are in order for you," said Jay to Andrew.
Andrew flinched, but so slightly that probably only Emma noticed. He'd agreed to talk about it a little, at least, to try and defuse some of the curiosity. "Yeah," he said. "Thanks."
"Andrew just adopted a really, seriously cute baby," Jay told his audience. The crowd seemed to be made up entirely of mothers who wanted to adopt Andrew and Harry themselves. Jay went on, "Aren't you dying, though? New baby, new movie… Do you ever sleep?"
Andrew laughed and shook his head. "Not really, no. Emma was a godsend, actually; she bought half of Kids R Us for Harry, and now my mum's flown out to help look after him. For a little while it was just me, though and that was… Well. A disaster."
"Oh!" said Jay, "That's why there were those pictures of you and the baby and Jesse Eisenberg, right? Was he lending a hand, too?"
Andrew's smile went frozen and a little stiff. "Yeah, he… I couldn't have… Before my mum got here it was mostly just him, and he's -" The audience started awwing again, and Jay laughed. "He's really good with babies, it turns out," Andrew said.
"Oscar nominated and an excellent babysitter! Now there's a catch, ladies. How come you didn't step up to help?" Jay asked, turning to Emma.
"Babies aren't really my thing," said Emma. Everyone laughed. "I helped out, but then-"
Jay started laughing. "Yeah, I hear you have something else going on, too, eh?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows a little.
"Oh, you saw that?" Emma bit her lip. She patted Andrew's hand on the arm rest because he looked like he'd stopped breathing for a couple of seconds while he was thinking about Jesse.
"The whole world saw those pictures. So is this uh, a thing? Are you guys going to be a new Hollywood power couple?"
Emma laughed a little harder than that deserved and shook her head. "That's not really… It was just two friends having lunch together."
Jay tilted his head. "I've had lunch with lots of friends without… Can we put one of the pictures up? Without that happening." He had a photo of Justin leaning across the table with one hand cradling Emma's jaw and his tongue half in her mouth. She laughed embarrassedly. At least she didn't have to pretend for that part. She hadn't intended for it to go beyond a little friendly kissing at lunch. Groping in the car, then dinner the next night, and then spending the night at Justin's house had been an honest surprise to her, and she wasn't sure why it had happened. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment all her common sense had been overruled by her Bad Idea Hormones.
The audience whistled and cheered. "Oh my god," said Emma, hand over her mouth. "That looks… It wasn't really like that!"
"I don't know," said Jay. "Looks pretty serious."
"You'd have to ask Justin about that," Emma said, and Jay laughed while the audience shrieked.
--
"I do appreciate it," said Andrew in the green room back stage. "I'm just asking whether it's a good idea or not. I mean, that's four times you've been photographed together now."
Emma changed her shoes. "I'm the Spider-man scandal, you're not. Thank me and shut up."
"No, but I have questions," Andrew insisted. "Did you need to kiss him quite so enthusiastically? Have you two negotiated how much touching will go on and what kind? Aren't you a bit worried about where he's been?"
"You doofus," Emma said, rolling her eyes. "It's just something I’m doing as a favor for a friend. It doesn't mean anything, it's not going to have any repercussions."
"You look awfully friendly though-"
"Eww! Andrew, stop being gross. Justin and I are professionals."
Andrew was openly laughing at her now. "So the pictures of you leaving his house yesterday morning, the ones where you're still wearing the clothes from that interview we did the night before, that was just really careful planning?"
Emma refused to look at him. Her cheeks were burning a little bit. Some of the photo opportunities had been planned and some of them had involved cameramen unexpectedly in the bushes outside Justin's house. "I guess you'll just have to die wondering about that."
"Oh my god, this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. Is it likely to happen again?" Andrew asked, delighted.
"Absolutely not," said Emma. "Not unless you have some other sort of baby crisis. Or any other kind of crisis, I guess. Speaking of which, I half thought you were going to propose to Jesse on Leno's couch."
Andrew shrugged. "That would be a bit presumptuous."
Emma gave him a long look through narrowed eyes. "You considered it."
"He doesn't even own a TV. I'd be talking to myself. Now explain your walk of shame from Timberlake's house. Entertainment Tonight certainly had some ideas about what was going on."
Emma lied, "It was all for the cameras, Andrew, obviously. I went over late, we ignored each other for a few hours, and then I left after he called TMZ. No big deal."
"So you didn't do anything?"
"No," Emma said firmly. "Or… Well, at least, I'm not going to do anything again so it doesn't matter." Andrew howled with laughter and Emma tried not to blush. "Get your life together, Garfield. You're ruining mine."
He tried to look serious. "I'm sorry about that."
"When we fly out to New York next week for Letterman you can make it up to me by talking to Jesse. Repeat after me, 'Jesse, I want you to be my boyfriend-'"
"Stop it, shut up, I've got a baby, he might not want to - Honestly, Emma." Andrew crossed his arms, working hard to look angry. "Besides, he's only texted me this week, he hasn't called once. That's rude."
"Are you still pretending to be mad?"
"I'm not pretending." He sounded petulant and ridiculous instead of righteous or angry. "I’m really very cross with him."
"Aww," said Emma, grabbing her coat. "That's cute."
"It is not! If it all goes horribly wrong in New York you'll have to take me out for drinks."
"I promise," said Emma.
"Even if it means ditching a date with Justin."
She punched him on the arm a lot more lightly this time, and he laughed and followed her out the door.
next
Fandom: TSN RPF (Jesse Eisenberg/Andrew Garfield)
previous
Andrew fidgeted the first half of the drive home. Jesse wondered if maybe he was worried about Harry. Andrew said abruptly, "If you're staying with me we should go shopping. Drive over to the shopping centre."
"Really?" Jesse asked and cut across four lanes of traffic, then slammed on the brakes when someone's grandfather stopped suddenly in front of him. He was so ridiculously easy for whatever Andrew wanted.
"Must you do that?" Andrew asked, a little pale.
"No one can drive in L.A. That wasn't my fault. What do you want to shop for?"
Andrew shrugged and looked at his hands. "Oh, well, I don't know. General household things. An extra toothbrush? Do you need clothes?"
"I have clothes," said Jesse. "They're just at my place."
"Right, I know, I… You can go get those, obviously, or we could - Ooh, Bed Bath and Beyond. That's where we should go."
Jesse was so confused by him sometimes. "You need a new comforter?"
"I might. Stop arguing with me," Andrew ordered, poking him. "I have things to buy."
Harry didn't want to go into his stroller so Andrew carried him and Jesse pushed the cart. "Ooh," said Andrew, "a set of mugs for tea. I need those. And napkins! Look, they've got ducks on, that's adorable. Do you like those?" Harry reached for them, so they went into the cart.
"You can't buy everything," said Jesse, noting with some alarm that they had barely walked in the door.
"Why not?" Andrew asked, and Jesse didn't have an answer for that. "Towels!" said Andrew excitedly. "What colors do you like?"
"Uh," said Jesse. "I like, um… I don't know? Does it matter?"
"You must have a favorite color," said Andrew, scandalized. "Even Harry's got a favorite color."
"That can't possibly be true."
"It's green," said Andrew definitely, and Jesse had no idea how to argue with that, either.
"Uh, I like blue. Or colors that seem like blue. Near-blue. Blue-esque colors."
Andrew still looked a little horrified. "You must have a preference. There are six different shades of blue here." He gestured to the wall of towels and matching bathroom mats and washcloths.
"Yes, I've been completely miserable this whole time, using your towels. It's like Guantanamo Bay," said Jesse. Andrew put his hands on his hips impatiently. "I, uh…." He had the weirdest feeling that he didn't want to disappoint Andrew by picking the wrong blue. "Let Harry choose."
"It's your towel," Andrew objected. "How do you normally choose?"
Jesse spread his hands helplessly. "I pick the fluffiest one. Or the one least covered in cat hair."
"Jesse!" said Andrew, half-laughing and half-despairing. "Just point to a towel."
Jesse grabbed something in the blue family. "This seems to mean a lot to you," he said. He couldn't imagine ever in his life caring what color his towel was.
"Oh," said Andrew, offering Harry a washcloth to chew on. "I just thought, since you're staying with us, you might like… Well, I mean… I'm not trying to be presumptuous, you like the couch, I'm fine with that. Since I've got Harry and all it's probably easier and I wouldn't blame you if you weren't, um… I mean, I don't want to rush you-"
For a blinding, terrifying second Jesse thought Andrew was about to kick him out of the apartment. "Sorry, I'm in the way. I'm in the way, shit."
"No!" said Andrew quickly. Harry fidgeted and kicked and whined a little. "That's not what I meant, oh god, I'm so bad at this. I just thought. Since you're staying with us, you could… I mean. For you. You are going to stay, aren't you?" He bit his lip and looked hopeful.
Jesse couldn't believe Andrew thought he was such a dick that he'd run out before Andrew's mom got there, even if Andrew was obviously starting to feel antsy about having his space back. "Of course," said Jesse.
Andrew's smile was blinding. "Oh, good," he said. "Fantastic. Wonderful. Just… I'm really pleased. We're pleased, aren't we, Harry?"
Harry threw the washcloth on the floor and said, "Bye bye," fretfully, hiding his face against Andrew's shoulder.
"Ignore him, he's being grumpy," said Andrew. He retrieved the mildly-chewed washcloth from the floor and put it in the cart.
Jesse rolled his eyes. "You don't need to buy me anything, you know. I'm just trying to make your life easier-"
"You do," said Andrew, and then ducked his head and Jesse couldn't argue with him when he was the cutest person in the world holding the cutest baby in the world, so he just trailed after them through the store.
--
The only reason that Andrew didn't buy everything in the entire store was that eventually Harry got fussier and started to cry. Two mothers let them cut ahead in line, cooing at Harry, who turned his face away and started to scream and kick.
"Take him outside, we left the snacks and bottles in the car," said Jesse.
"I've got to pay first-" Andrew started.
"I have a wallet," said Jesse. Andrew frowned, but Harry was hanging limply from his arms trying to throw himself on the ground and crying so hard he was starting to cough and bubble snot from his nose.
"Save the receipt," Andrew ordered, and dashed for the door.
The mothers behind him in line smiled sympathetically. "That's a difficult age," one of them said.
Jesse smiled uncomfortably.
The other mother nodded. "You'll be okay, though. You two are a team. That's what it takes."
"Me and… Oh, yeah, well. We're trying," said Jesse. What was it about him that made everyone in the world assume he was dating Andrew except Andrew?
"I loved you two in the Social Network," said the first mother, patting his elbow. "You should really keep some snacks for him when you go out if you're not going to carry a pacifier. Babies like to eat before a nap. They sleep better with some food in their tummies."
"Not my Bethany, she wouldn't sleep if she'd been eating," said the second mother, and then it was Jesse's turn to check out. He bought all of the ridiculous things Andrew had filled the cart up with - plastic silverware with hippos for handles for Harry, pillowcases covered in stars ("Because you're a star!" Andrew had said excitedly), darker curtains for the living room so Jesse could sleep better, fridge magnets for some reason Jesse couldn't fathom -- and pretended he couldn't see the clerk giving him sidelong glances.
Andrew was standing outside in the parking lot trying to calm Harry down with lots of gentle bouncing and mumbled words but Harry was crying and red-faced. "He's so unhappy," said Andrew, "and I don't know what I did. What's he doing? Do you know?"
Harry was holding his hands up against his ears as if he couldn’t stand listening to Andrew for one more second, and screaming with tears. "He falls asleep when we drive him around. I'll take the long way back to your place," Jesse offered. He put all the bags into the back of the car while Andrew put Harry in his car seat.
"He doesn't want a bottle and he doesn't want a snack and he doesn't want me," said Andrew, sounding heartbroken.
"He's just tired," said Jesse, more hopefully than sure about it.
Harry quieted down once Jesse started driving but he didn't fall asleep. He was still half-awake and crying quietly to himself, and Andrew spent the entire ride twisted around in his seat and reassuringly patting Harry's foot since it was the only thing he could reach. Jesse wished he were half the baby-whisperer Andrew assumed he was, so he could fix whatever was wrong with Harry.
The baby fussed and cried while Andrew tried to put him down for a nap at home, and when Andrew closed the bedroom door they could both hear him crying through it. "He's fine," said Jesse uncertainly.
"What if he's not?" Andrew asked.
"No baby ever died from crying," Jesse said, wondering if that was true. Harry was still wailing on the other side of the door. "You want me to make some dinner?"
"No, I can… I'm going to tidy up a little and put things away and you should go back to your apartment and get your clothes. Or, honestly, you don't have to stay here with us. I don't want to make you… I mean, this isn't your problem, I don't want to make it yours. You can go and stay there tonight and I'll look after him while he's being a brat."
Andrew definitely wanted to get rid of him."He's not a brat," Jesse said. "He's just a tired little guy."
Andrew had his determined face on. "You have to keep liking him, and I don't think you will if you have to listen to him fuss. And anyway, I have to get used to taking care of him by myself eventually, don't I? Go home for a while. You deserve a break while he's being so loud."
"I can stay," Jesse offered.
"Go," Andrew insisted, pushing him toward the door.
"Okay," said Jesse unhappily. "I left dishes in my sink, I guess, and there's some stuff I should probably go get. Should I come back tonight?"
Harry started wailing again in the bedroom. "Stay at your own apartment and get some sleep; we should take turns staying sharp and you'll have him tomorrow. Harry and I will be fine," said Andrew firmly, and kicked him out.
They wouldn't be, Jesse thought. Well, really he hoped. He wanted Andrew to open the door again and say, "I'm sorry, it was all a mistake, I need you desperately, I can't do anything without you. Please stay and help me with Harry and then just forget to leave, ever."
The door didn't open and his phone didn't ring.
Jesse drove back to his own apartment and sat on the couch for a while. His copy of Moby Dick was still half-open on the coffee table, rebuking him. His apartment felt small and empty and quiet. He turned his phone on a couple of times to see if he'd accidentally silenced it and missed a call from Andrew and found he hadn't. He fell asleep on his own couch and it wasn't nearly as nice.
--
The phone finally rang just after five in the morning. Jesse fumbled for it and knocked it off the coffee table in his rush to answer. "Andrew?" he said, instead of hello.
"I think he's ill. He's barely slept and he feels warm to me. I can't drive, can you - God, oh no, I'm sorry, did I wake you up? I can call a taxi."
Jesse could hear Harry crying in the background. "I'll be there in twenty minutes, is that too long? You can call an ambulance-"
"Oh my god, do you think I need an ambulance?"
Jesse had never heard Andrew so panicked. He was used to being the one who panicked in any given situation, while Andrew smiled and laughed and cajoled him into calming down. Jesse took a deep breath and ordered himself to focus. "Is he drinking? How hot is he? Do you have a baby thermometer?"
"I haven't got anything," Andrew said. He sounded like he might cry, too.
"Okay. Then I'll be twenty-five minutes because I'm going to swing by the twenty-four-hour Rite Aid and pick up some baby Triaminic or something. Twenty-five minutes. You want me to keep the phone on speaker while I'm driving?"
"I'm fine, we're fine, we'll be fine," said Andrew. Harry sounded awful. "Please hurry. I'm sorry to wake you up, but-"
Jesse hung up and grabbed his keys, running out the door.
--
"I cleared out the entire baby aisle of the store," Jesse said, bursting in.
Andrew's apartment had dramatically devolved since Jesse had dropped him off. There were dirty towels and tissues everywhere, toys and clothes scattered across every surface, and Andrew looked a little like he'd been dragged behind a car for a couple of miles down a dirt road. Harry was red-faced and crying quietly, hiccuping unhappily to himself and clutching Andrew's sweatshirt with both hands.
"Pediasure," said Jesse, "in case he's dehydrated. A thermometer to see if he has a fever. The number of a couple of local pediatricians who make house calls in case of emergency. Fever medicine, cold medicine, cough medicine-"
"Thank you," said Andrew. He looked and sounded like he might cry. "I'm sorry it's so early, I didn't realize when I called. I thought I could be alone with him, but as soon as I was he got ill, and I-"
"If he's sick then he was sick before I left," said Jesse. He peeled Harry off Andrew's chest and let the baby cry against his shoulder instead. He did feel warm, and there was some spilled food and dried snot on his pajama shirt, but Jesse hugged him tightly anyway.
"I don't know what to do," said Andrew. He started to cross his arms and then instead waved his hands around and then tried to put them in his pockets and every line of his body language was screaming that he was about to start crying or sitting on the floor rocking back and forth.
"My jacket pocket has phone numbers," said Jesse. "Call one of the pediatricians and see who can see you first thing this morning. He's still rubbing his ear. My mom says that means he might have an ear infection."
Andrew nodded frantically. "Do you think he's sick enough to wait for a doctor? I can't tell if I'm panicking over nothing or if he's really sick, I wish he were old enough to tell me. He just cries and cries and I don't know how to make him feel better. I'm the worst caretaker in the world, he ought to be with someone who knows what they're doing."
"You're fine," said Jesse, trying to bounce Harry a little bit and calm him down. Harry was still crying fitfully so he wasn't going to like having his temperature taken. "He's fine, and you're doing fine."
"I'm not, I can't, I don't know - Oh god, did you call your mother in the middle of the night for us?"
"New York is three hours ahead, it's fine. Andrew, I never thought in a million years I'd be telling you this, but calm down. Breathe. Everything is fine." He wasn't sure whether he was lying or not, but he was sure that Andrew was on the verge of an actual breakdown.
Andrew nodded shakily and actually stopped to take a deep breath. "I'm trying," he said. "I'm just so scared I'll have waited too long and he'll be sick, and I won't have done whatever I needed to do."
"I'll take his temperature, you call the doctor," said Jesse. "It'll be okay, Andrew, I swear. Really."
"Okay," said Andrew, nodding again. "Right. Okay." He pulled out his cellphone and started dialing.
Jesse had forgotten up until he opened the package on the baby thermometer that baby's temperatures were measured in their butts, and that seemed like a horrible violation of his relationship with Harry. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, while Harry wailed and screamed and cried. "Tell the doctor he's got a fever of… One hundred and one," said Jesse.
"One hundred and - Oh, it's Fahrenheit, right, I knew that," said Andrew. "Is that bad?"
"It's not good," Jesse hedged. He offered Harry a bottle and a toy as an apology but Harry kept crying, pressing his hand against his ear.
"The doctor can see us in an hour," said Andrew. "How did your mother know the number of a doctor in L.A.?"
Jesse bit his lip. He wasn't sure he wanted to tell Andrew that his mother had apparently started looking for pediatricians directly after Jesse had told her that Andrew had a baby. She hadn't come out and said, "Because I need to know that my grandchild is looked after," but she hadn't sounded surprised, either. "She's just all kinds of awesome," he said. "She knows people."
"Tell her I love her," Andrew replied.
"I will," he said. Harry was calming down just a little. "I'll drive you both over and the doctor will fix everything. Don't worry."
"Thank you," Andrew said. "Jesse, I… Thank you."
"Hurry up," said Jesse, so he didn't say something stupid, and rubbed Harry's back until he settled down.
--
Andrew wasn't the most panicked parent in the pediatrician's waiting room. There was also a mother shouting at the receptionist about how long it was taking to see her son, and another mother trying to wrangle four children who were all trying to kill each other. Harry lay in his stroller and cried fitfully while Andrew rolled him gently back and forth. Jesse sat next to him on the tiny child-sized waiting bench and tried to look calm and seem like he wasn't worried at all, while running through increasingly apocalyptic scenarios in his head. What if Harry really was sick? What if something happened to him?
Maybe he didn't look as calm as he hoped, because Andrew inched his hand across the bench until their fingers were touching. "He'll be alright," said Andrew firmly. He wasn't hiding the shake in his voice very well.
"Yeah," said Jesse, and just because he could, he squeezed Andrew's hand with his own. Andrew smiled gratefully.
"Mr. Garfield?" said the nurse. She looked up at them and Jesse could tell the second she recognized Andrew, and then recognized him, and then tried to put her professional face back on. "The doctor is ready for you."
"I'll read Highlights. I have years of back issues to catch up on," said Jesse. Andrew laughed, more a huff of relief than anything else, and carried Harry out of the waiting room.
--
It was a long hour before Andrew came back out. Harry was sleeping against his shoulder, and Andrew was trying to juggle the baby, his cellphone, a note from the doctor, and his wallet.
"Ear infection," said Andrew shortly and thrust the phone at Jesse. "Talk to my mother, please."
"Uh," said Jesse cleverly. "Hello? Mrs. Garfield?"
"Why on earth are you there?" said a sharp voice on the other end. Jesse winced.
"I'm helping out," he said.
"Why didn't he have a doctor before this? What is he doing? A baby isn't a puppy, it isn't something you just take home with you because it's cute and you're bored or lonely."
"No, ma'am," said Jesse. "He has one now, though, and he's getting medicine and everything is going to be fine." He mouthed at Andrew, Is everything going to be fine? Andrew nodded back tiredly. He was in the middle of a discussion of American insurance that didn't look like it was going to end any time soon.
"This is why you don't adopt babies as spur-of-the-moment decisions. This is why you don't do it on a different continent from half your family. He doesn't even have a driving license!"
"Well, he's got me," said Jesse.
Mrs. Garfield was so loud he had to hold the phone away from his ear. "What kind of a plan is that? He's got a friend who might not be busy so he can take them to the doctor in case of emergency? Babies require a little more long-term planning than that!"
"He's trying," said Jesse.
"I should obviously just cancel work and get on a plane. The first thing a baby needs is a reliable pediatrician! Has Andrew found a nanny yet?"
"Well, uh," said Jesse, wishing Andrew weren't quite so caught up in arguing with the receptionist. "He's gearing up for the red carpet tomorrow in L.A. But I'm sure he's planning things."
"Handing the phone to you was an act of cowardice," she said, and hung up.
Jesse stared at Andrew's phone for a second like it was a defused bomb. "Well," he said. "Okay, then." He walked over to the desk and offered Andrew his phone back. "That was really enlightening, thank you."
Andrew made a face. "She's a bit stressed over suddenly being a grandmother and then immediately losing the grandchild to another continent," he said. "Normally she's lovely."
"I'm sure," Jesse agreed. "I'll trade you the phone for the baby."
"Coward," said Andrew, shifting Harry carefully to Jesse.
"Oh, yeah, totally," Jesse agreed. He walked Harry over to the stroller, rubbing his back and mumbling nonsense words under his breath, because he had a feeling Andrew was going to be at the desk for a while. It really was irresponsible that they hadn't thought about insurance or doctors or anything. Jesse was going to have to call his mom and find out what else he'd forgotten to think about.
He was struck, suddenly, as he put Harry down to nap, that he was making contingency plans and emergency information for someone else's baby. He was just supposed to be there to help Andrew out. Andrew didn’t even want him there all the time, he wanted to be alone with Harry, and when the crisis passed it would probably be better for everyone if Jesse got out of the way. Jesse sighed and let Harry wrap his entire hand around Jesse's finger while he slept.
--
"Garfield's late," said Marc.
Emma winced and fished her phone out of her pocket. "I'm sure he'll be here in a second," she said breezily, "don't worry. He's Spider-man, he'll show up in the nick of time." She pocket texted Where r u? Pics, tuxedo fittings, red carpet 2morrow dumass. She had been on the brink of calling Jesse all morning to make sure Andrew didn't forget, and then decided that that was too intrusive, but obviously she should have.
The text she got back looked a lot like a scene from The King's Speech. And then 20 minutes IM REALLY SORRY.
The photographer was starting to get antsy, so Emma directed a blinding smile at him. "I really want to hear what your vision is for this shoot," she said. He leered a little, which was gross, but Emma was willing to take one for the team in this case.
Half an hour later Andrew stumbled in looking like absolute hell. Emma jumped up and stopped him at the door, pretending to fix his collar so she could hiss, "I thought Jesse was taking care of this."
"Harry got ill, I was up all night with him, we've just got back from the doctor."
She wrinkled her nose. "You smell like baby vomit. Gross."
"D'you think anyone'll believe I was just on a bender?" Andrew asked hopefully.
Emma doubted it, but then she'd been trying to decide what to do about the SPIDERMAN'S BABY headline in Enquirer. It wasn't high-profile enough to seem like legitimate news yet, but it would soon. "Go wash your face and let Janine do something with this lion's mane you call hair. We'll take some pictures and get you ready for tomorrow and then we seriously need to talk about how you're going to explain Harry to the world."
"Yeah," said Andrew. "Okay. Right."
"And I'll get you some coffee." He made a face at her, which she ignored. This called for more oomph than tea could possibly have.
The photoshoot was okay, and the fitting was fine, except for how Andrew started swaying on his feet halfway through. Emma flicked him on the ear to wake him up. "Up all night? Doing anything fun, at least?" Marc asked.
"Oh, um. No, the baby was sick," said Andrew. Marc had heard a much shorter version of the story from Emma but had seemed sort of dubious about the whole thing. He looked at her, and she nodded in a, No, seriously, this is really happening way.
"You gonna be okay for tomorrow?"
"All he has to do is show up, wear a tux, and smile a lot," Emma pointed out. "He could literally do that asleep. You want me to wear something micro-mini that doesn't fit right and take the attention off you?"
"I always want that," Andrew laughed. "You'll look fantastic."
Emma tried to think of a way to start the conversation they needed to have that wouldn't be drama, but there wasn't one. Emma believed in ripping bandaids straight off. "Listen, this baby thing is set to blow up any second now. Are there more shots of you and Harry and Jesse? Because I've seen them start showing up in online gossip blogs."
Andrew went a little bit pale and sat down. His tuxedo was going to be all wrinkled before the premiere. "Oh," he said faintly. "Well."
"Your publicist needs to make some kind of statement," Emma said flatly. "Otherwise people are going to dig up the official records like it's a dirty secret." Andrew nodded. She tried to soften the blow a little. "You won't do an interview with People, you aren't going to sell pictures of him, so it's going to blow over, but there will be a few weeks where it's gonna be bad. Don't worry. Me and Jesse have your back."
"And Justin."
Emma blinked. "I'm sorry?"
Andrew laughed unhappily. "He offered to do something really outrageous to distract people. It was nice, actually."
A vague, fleeting idea occurred to Emma. "That's really sweet, ten points for Justin. Anyway between the three of us you'll be fine, but just… I don't know. Prepare yourself."
"I'm not that interesting, honestly," said Andrew.
Emma just made a face, looking pointedly at the giant Spider-man poster they'd been taking pictures in front of. Andrew sighed and deflated a little bit. Emma patted his knee sympathetically.
--
Andrew invited her for dinner, and Emma was too curious not to accept. She really, really wanted to see what kind of bizarre domestic bliss he and Jesse had settled in to. She wasn't disappointed. They walked in and Jesse was at the stove in an actual apron with polka dots on it making dinner. His glasses were a little bit steamed up from whatever he was boiling on the stove.
"Harry's napping," said Jesse. "I think he's feeling better. Oh. Hey, Emma."
Emma bit her lip to keep from giggling and waved. Andrew took his coat off and said, "That smells delicious."
"We should have called, I didn't realize Jesse was cooking," Emma said.
Jesse looked adorably confused. "Andrew texted me, I knew you were coming. I hope you like lasagna and steamed vegetables."
"I'm going to shower," said Andrew. As he walked past Jesse one of his hands moved out, fingers trailing across Jesse's waist, but so lightly that Jesse didn't seem to notice. It might have been a Thanks for being here reassuring touch, or a See? I came home again touch, but Emma had a suspicion that Andrew just took any excuse he could find to touch Jesse.
"Don't wake Harry up," was all Jesse said. Emma frowned a little bit as she sat down at Andrew's counter. Was it possible that Jesse was socially awkward enough not to notice the way Andrew looked at him? Or casually touched him?
"I um, I wasn't sure what you'd want to eat so I also made you chicken," Jesse said.
"That's really sweet," said Emma.
"And then I thought maybe you were a vegetarian so I also made you some vegetable pilaf."
"Awww, Jesse."
"But then I thought that maybe you don't eat carbs because lots of people in L.A don't eat carbs. So that's what the vegetables are for. And if that won't work I'm sure I can get you some filtered water and diet air."
It took Emma a second. "You're fucking with me. You asshole."
Jesse's smile was brilliant. "I really did make vegetables."
"You aren't allowed to teach the baby to lie just for fun," Emma said sternly. Jesse shrugged, all what-can-you-do? "Hey, I thought we had a deal that you'd keep Andrew from killing himself."
"Harry got sick. It was unplanned."
"Still. I expect better. What happened to our teamwork?"
Jesse shrugged again and looked at the floor instead of at her. "He… Um, he wanted me to leave. He needed space and to be alone with Harry or something, I guess. I can't force myself on him."
Emma frowned, trying to work that out and came up blank. She was never going to understand what the hell these two were thinking around each other. "Are you staying tonight?"
"If he wants me to," said Jesse. He started pulling food out of the oven and setting the table and Emma kicked her shoe angrily but quietly against the leg of the kitchen table.
Andrew came back out, damp and looking half-asleep. He was carrying Harry, who was a little bit pink and clutching Andrew's shirt with both hands. "He woke up when I was in there," Andrew said apologetically.
"He'll never settle down if you pick him up," said Jesse.
"He's mostly asleep anyway," said Andrew.
"So are you," said Emma.
"No, no, I'm totally awake," Andrew lied, sitting down with Harry.
Jesse handed Andrew a plate and looked at him dubiously. "If you say so."
Emma had to carry most of the conversational load during the meal; Jesse spent most of it looking at Andrew with little frown lines creasing his forehead. Andrew managed some food but spent most of the meal yawning and pretending he wasn't, or offering Harry a bottle which Harry didn't seem to want. Emma chattered about the movie and some mildly scandalous stories about people in Hollywood she was pretty sure Jesse had never heard of.
When Andrew started to nod a little bit, jerking himself back awake with visible effort, Emma decided that was enough. "You're going to drop him," she scolded. "Bed. Come on." She pried Harry off Andrew's chest and handed him to Jesse and then dragged Andrew up and toward the bedroom. Jealousy flashed across Jesse's face but he shut it down almost immediately. Emma put that aside to ponder later.
"I'm fine," Andrew insisted, but he didn't try and stop her from bullying him into bed. With great malice aforethought she kissed Andrew's cheek and patted his thigh while Jesse put Harry down in the crib. Jesse was definitely watching her from the corner of his eye and frowning. Maybe a little jealousy would get him to say something and stop being such a fucking idiot.
By the time she closed the bedroom door again she was fairly sure Andrew and Harry were both already asleep. "You know what I'm going to say," she said quietly.
"So you really don't have to," Jesse agreed, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.
She sighed. "Do I need to stage an intervention?"
Jesse shook his head. "I'm… If I screwed this up, or if I made his life with Harry harder I could never… I'd be so mad at myself, I…"
Emma sighed. Maybe if she planted a kiss on Andrew at the premier it would help things along. Or maybe, given how uncertain Jesse looked, it would make things worse. "I think it will be fine, hon. Thanks for dinner."
Jesse shrugged and smiled. Emma drove home convinced it couldn't be too much longer before they worked out that they were on the same page.
--
The red carpet was great. Andrew looked fantastic and Emma wore a scandalously short and tight dress with her favorite fuck-me shoes. They posed for all the flashing lights in front of ludicrously large posters and smiled no matter how bright the lights got.
"You look better," Emma said, leaning over to be heard.
"I finally slept," Andrew said sheepishly. "And then this morning my mum arrived unexpectedly, so that's an extra set of hands to take care of things."
"Andrew!" someone shouted. "Andrew, what's up with the baby? Any comment? We have pictures of you and Jesse Eisenberg shopping at Bed Bath and Beyond together with an infant!"
Andrew smiled politely and pretended he hadn't heard. Emma hooked her arm through his and walked him inside, waving to the cameras. "You have to say something," she said, clenching her teeth through a smile.
"My publicist is putting out something on Tuesday. Small, discreet, tasteful, and I'm supposed to ignore it all until then," said Andrew, waving to a fan.
"What if it doesn't ignore you?" Emma asked.
Andrew shrugged. "I'm trying to be zen about the whole thing. Do you think anyone'll notice if I sneak out of our movie to check and see if Jesse's texted me? Harry's still not feeling one-hundred percent."
"Yes," said Emma, "but you should do it anyway." Andrew gave her waist an affectionate squeeze and she beamed at him.
--
There was an after party to celebrate the generally good reviews ("Spider-man swings back into action!" and "Spider-man saves the day!") and then an after-after party. Andrew spent most of them frowning at his phone. He was perfectly polite to critics and friends and other people from the movie who wanted to chat, but he was also clearly distracted.
"How's Harry?" Emma asked. She'd changed into slightly less absurd footwear and had about six glasses of champagne. The whole evening felt bubbly and ridiculous and amazing.
"Mum says he's recovering. Jesse's not answering his phone, though." He typed out a text and pocketed it again. "Maybe he's gone to sleep; it's nearly one AM."
"It's almost two," Emma corrected. "You want to go home and check?"
Andrew shrugged one shoulder. "It's our party, darling," he said. "It would be rude to skip out. I love the movie and I love these people, I just…"
"You can't stop thinking about Jesse and Harry."
Andrew sighed. "I'm sorry. You look amazing." He kissed her cheek.
"I know," said Emma. "Let's get a driver and get out of here. You have important family business."
It took them another hour to get out of the party, between all the well-wishers and all the drunk people who wanted to talk to them. By the time they finally got downstairs to the car service a lot of the champagne had worn off, so Emma grabbed another flute from a caterer as they exited.
"Don't you feel high on life?" Emma asked. She reclined sideways on the leather seat. "Isn't this a fabulous event?"
"Sure," said Andrew, checking his phone.
Emma poked his thigh with the sharp end of her heel. "This is a good night to stop worrying and embrace life, Garfield."
"I'm embracing it. The party was great."
She dug the shoe in a little bit, and he winced and scooted away. "I'm implying that this would be a great night to go home, sweep in, and tell Jesse you love him."
Emma waited for him to blush and stutter and deny. He looked at his hands instead, turning his phone over and over. "I'd considered it," he said quietly.
She sat up. "Wait, really?"
Andrew shrugged and bit his lip. "I mean. I could always say I was drunk if it went wrong."
"Oh my god!" Emma squealed. "I would have dragged you out of the party hours ago if I'd known that!" She banged obnoxiously on the separation between them and the driver. "Faster! We have a romantic mission!"
"He's probably asleep," said Andrew, laughing a little. "I'm not going to wake him up for that."
"Yes, you will! After all this stupid staring at each other, someone's finally saying something! Oh god, Andrew, I'm so excited."
He laughed again. "Glad you are. My hands are all sweaty." Emma offered him the rest of her champagne, which he declined.
They pulled up at Andrew's apartment. Emma really should have let him talk to Jesse on his own but she wasn't about to give him a chance to chicken out. She asked the driver to wait and followed him up to the door, bouncing with anticipation. "It's going to be great, I promise," she said.
He rolled his eyes and unlocked the door.
An older woman stood up. "Well, it's late enough," she said, and she sounded just like Andrew.
"Sorry, we had parties we needed to attend," Andrew said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
His mother pursed her mouth a little. "Some people might have taken their mother to a nice party instead of having her fly halfway round the world to babysit. Harry's been sick, and he isn't a toy you can put away while you're busy."
"I know that, I know," said Andrew placatingly.
Mrs. Garfield sighed. "I just worry, my love," she said, patting his hand. "Anyway you're home now, I'm off to bed." She headed into the bedroom.
Andrew looked a little confused. "Is Jesse - Oh. I guess I hadn't thought. There isn't really room here for all of us, is there?" He wrinkled his nose and looked at Emma.
"Jesse didn't think so, no. He's gone back to his apartment."
Andrew deflated a little. "I'll talk to him in the morning, I suppose."
"Call him now, before you lose your nerve," Emma ordered. "Oooh, or we can drive over to his place and surprise him!" She grabbed Andrew's hand and pulled him back toward the door.
His mother looked a little confused. "You can't drive to his apartment."
"It's only about half an hour away," said Emma. "Sorry to keep Andrew out so late, but--"
"No, he's gone back to New York."
Andrew's jaw dropped. Emma had never gasped in her life when it wasn't for a movie but she gasped then, a tiny shocked inhale as if someone had hit her. "He went back to New York?" she echoed. "He… Andrew?"
Andrew couldn't get out a clear sentence. "He - But he - He said that he - I don't -- Mum, you didn't ask him to leave, did you?"
She snorted. "Half an hour after you left this afternoon he told me he had a plane ticket and walked out. I said, 'Don't you want to say goodbye to Andrew?' and he said 'No, not really, actually,' and Harry began to cry and Jesse ran like he was on fire. I think there's something wrong with him."
Andrew was somewhere between shock and losing it completely. "Come for a walk with me," Emma ordered, pulling him toward the door.
"I'll be just a few minutes," Andrew said to his mother. "Sorry."
She smiled sympathetically. "I'm off to bed, then."
Andrew followed Emma outside. It seemed colder now, and his apartment complex's yard seemed so empty. "But I asked him to stay," Andrew repeated. He looked pleadingly at Emma. "He promised me - I mean, us -- that he would."
Emma had a terrible feeling about this in the pit of her stomach. "Andrew, honey. You asked him to stay and help you with the baby because you're stressed, or… You said, 'Jesse, I love you. Please stay forever and be my boyfriend and help me with this baby'?"
"Oh, um, well," said Andrew quietly. "I… I thought it was implied."
Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes or smack her palm against her forehead. "It's Jesse. Picking up subtle social clues isn't his forté. Otherwise he'd have figured it out eons ago."
"I wasn't subtle!" Andrew protested, picking up volume. "I have been constantly and repeatedly hitting on him until even Harry must have noticed!"
"But you never out-and-out said anything?"
"I was going to! And, well, he…" Andrew shuffled his shiny expensive shoes on the gravel a little. "Whenever I got near to actually doing it he'd get this terrified look on his face, and I couldn't tell if he was scared I'd make a move or just scared he didn't know how to let me down easily. I'm pretty certain I said everything but those exact words."
Emma punched him on the arm.
"Ow!"
"You idiot," she said, and punched him again for good measure.
"Stop hitting me!" Andrew took a defensive step backwards. "He didn't want me to, okay, he made it crystal clear. We shared a bed, he said he slept better on the couch! And I asked him to stay, in case you forgot."
He was owed about ninety-five more punches by Emma's reckoning. "Skywriting wouldn't be obvious enough, you jackass. An entire symphony orchestra playing, 'Jesse I Think I Love You' wouldn't be clear. You know him so well! How could you fuck this up?"
"I…" Andrew rubbed his shoulder and gave her a hurt look. "I just couldn't stand it if I screwed things up. I wouldn't know what to do without him-"
"That's almost the exact same speech he gave me about you," Emma shouted. "Honest to god, you are the two dumbest people I have ever met!"
"I'm sorry," said Andrew. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away from her for a minute. She let him pretend it wasn't so he could take deep breaths and try not to burst into tears. "I thought it wasn't fair to be more insistent when I've got this baby to deal with, and he never signed up to date a single parent. I thought he knew what I was actually asking."
"I'll punch him when I see him again, too, don't worry."
"Don't," said Andrew. "He'd be so upset."
That was the point, Emma thought angrily to herself. "Well my night is fucking ruined. I'm going to go drink the rest of the bottle of champagne and sulk. Want to join me?"
"We have press early tomorrow," said Andrew. He glanced at his watch. "In about four hours, actually."
"I'll be fresh as a fucking daisy, you watch. The baby news drops soon?"
"Yeah." Andrew looked away again. Emma wondered what he'd hoped for, if he'd been expecting Jesse to be around to bolster his confidence when he had to face the press and photographers with Harry. Maybe having Jesse around would have made it worse, though. Two stars meant twice as big a story.
"Will you be okay?"
Andrew nodded and put his shoulders back. "I'll be fine. I'm mad at him, actually. How could he just go without waiting to say goodbye? He can be such an idiot."
"That's the spirit," said Emma. "How about instead of me tracking him down for punching, you do it."
"Maybe I will." Andrew's scowl wouldn't have fooled a child.
"And then," said Emma, "after you punch him, that's when you mention being in love with him and running away together." Andrew groaned at her. "Seriously, you have to say that part. In exactly those words. 'Jesse, I love you.' Pretend it's a script."
"I'm mad at him," Andrew repeated unconvincingly.
"Good luck with that," said Emma.
--
Emma's phone woke her up. She'd only managed a couple of hours of sleep and she didn't appreciate losing those extra six minutes of rest. There was a text from Andrew that just said, Shit shit shit shit shit.
It wasn't hard to figure out why; as soon as Emma turned on the television she saw the story about Andrew and Harry had broken. Someone had seen the pictures of them together and done some digging, found the adoption papers, and now they were on the ticker on E! scrolling across the bottom of the screen. ANDREW GARFIELD ADOPTS A BABY!! was all over the internet, too, and Emma's name turned up in some of the articles, speculating whether she'd known about it or helped with it or if Harry was secretly hers somehow.
The stories were mostly sympathetic, at least. Andrew probably didn't want his friend's drug addiction and overdose all over the television but the way Ryan Seacrest was spinning it Andrew was a saint. Obviously Andrew's publicist had released their official statement early when he'd seen the news because Ryan was quoting Andrew asking for privacy with his new family. But there were at least two sets of paparazzi photos; the ones from the night they'd been out at dinner and another couple that looked like camera phone shots of Andrew and Jesse shopping together. Andrew was holding Harry and looking tired but happy.
"I wonder when we'll get official pictures of the happy family," said Ryan. "We wish you the best of luck, Andrew! Speaking of, let's talk about how Spider-man is swinging in to theaters across the country this weekend!"
This called for drastic action. Emma sent her publicist a slightly cryptic text, then sent Andrew a much more reassuring one.
Never leaving the house again, there are photographers camped out on my step, he sent back. You'll have to go on without me.
They had interviews that afternoon, Leno in a couple of days, then flying out to New York to do Letterman, and then flying back for Conan, all of which she refused to do on her own.
Give me a couple of hours, Emma texted him, and dashed for the shower. Her plan required clean hair and a lot of lipstick.
--
"I don’t get it," said Justin.
"What's not to get?" Emma asked.
"I mean, where would we have met?"
"We have mutual friends," Emma pointed out. She resisted the urge to tug down her skirt. She had taken great pains to hit the line exactly between casual just-out-on-a-date and super-super sexy. Her hair was down and carefully tousled "We've been at some of the same parties. The point is that we might have met anywhere, now shut up and take me to lunch."
Justin grumbled under his breath. His car was so expensive Emma was almost afraid to breathe on the dashboard, and she'd been in plenty of flashy cars before. "What if I had a girlfriend?"
"You had three last I heard. This isn't going to hurt your reputation."
Justin was doing about twice the speed limit and then slamming on the brakes at every stop light. He pulled his phone out. "I've gotta call Trace before we get there."
"Who's Trace? Another girlfriend?"
Justin rolled his eyes at her and cut someone else off. Emma hated that she'd let him drive. "He's gonna call the photographers and give them a head's up. Not that I need it, 'cause they pretty much follow me around anyway. But you said this needs to happen today, right now."
This was probably a terrible idea, Emma thought, but it was also definitely going to get headlines. Justin was wearing a shiny suit jacket and a loosened tie and he didn't look awful. She couldn't back out on that account. Also, he'd shown up within half an hour of her phone call, which was better than her last boyfriend had managed, and they'd actually been dating.
Justin slammed on the brakes at the valet parking. "So have we fucked yet?"
"I'm sorry?" Emma said.
"I gotta know whether I should look like I'm still trying to get it or I already got it, babe." He flashed her his million-dollar grin, which was admittedly not that bad.
"Still trying," said Emma through gritted teeth. There was something horribly irksome about how charming Justin was. She wanted desperately to dislike him and she was having trouble doing it while he smiled at her. "We've been seeing each other on the sly and this is the first time we've gone out in public."
"But I haven't gotten into your pants yet, huh?" He tossed his keys to the valet and offered Emma his arm. It was smug and horrible and charming all at once.
"You're not going to," Emma said. She glanced over to see if anyone eating on the patio had noticed them. There were definitely a couple of tables looking, and maybe a few camera phones out. "But you're welcome to try during lunch. Now shut up and kiss me." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, hard. After a startled second Justin kissed back, opening his mouth up easily to press his tongue against hers. His jaw was a little bit rough with the beginning of stubble and his hand was big and warm against the small of her back.
He was not a terrible kisser. Emma sucked his lower lip into her mouth and bit it. He pushed his hips forward a little bit against hers and pulled her closer.
"You want to put on a show, baby, I'm your man," he grinned and started sucking on her earlobe.
"I didn't call you because I like you," Emma said, and turned a little to make sure the cameras got the best angle.
--
"I saw the movie, and it's just great," said Jay Leno. "Really entertaining. First I was like, should we really reboot this franchise so soon? And then I watched your movie, and I was like, oh!"
Andrew laughed politely. On the couch next to him Emma crossed and recrossed her legs, trying to look deeply interested.
"You two have some great chemistry in this movie, too."
The studio was freezing and the lights were so hot. Emma wondered if she was getting sweat marks under her arms. "Thanks," she said. "Andrew is so easy to fall in love with." She smiled at him and he ducked his head and the studio audience laughed and awwwed.
"And I hear beyond just the movie, congratulations are in order for you," said Jay to Andrew.
Andrew flinched, but so slightly that probably only Emma noticed. He'd agreed to talk about it a little, at least, to try and defuse some of the curiosity. "Yeah," he said. "Thanks."
"Andrew just adopted a really, seriously cute baby," Jay told his audience. The crowd seemed to be made up entirely of mothers who wanted to adopt Andrew and Harry themselves. Jay went on, "Aren't you dying, though? New baby, new movie… Do you ever sleep?"
Andrew laughed and shook his head. "Not really, no. Emma was a godsend, actually; she bought half of Kids R Us for Harry, and now my mum's flown out to help look after him. For a little while it was just me, though and that was… Well. A disaster."
"Oh!" said Jay, "That's why there were those pictures of you and the baby and Jesse Eisenberg, right? Was he lending a hand, too?"
Andrew's smile went frozen and a little stiff. "Yeah, he… I couldn't have… Before my mum got here it was mostly just him, and he's -" The audience started awwing again, and Jay laughed. "He's really good with babies, it turns out," Andrew said.
"Oscar nominated and an excellent babysitter! Now there's a catch, ladies. How come you didn't step up to help?" Jay asked, turning to Emma.
"Babies aren't really my thing," said Emma. Everyone laughed. "I helped out, but then-"
Jay started laughing. "Yeah, I hear you have something else going on, too, eh?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows a little.
"Oh, you saw that?" Emma bit her lip. She patted Andrew's hand on the arm rest because he looked like he'd stopped breathing for a couple of seconds while he was thinking about Jesse.
"The whole world saw those pictures. So is this uh, a thing? Are you guys going to be a new Hollywood power couple?"
Emma laughed a little harder than that deserved and shook her head. "That's not really… It was just two friends having lunch together."
Jay tilted his head. "I've had lunch with lots of friends without… Can we put one of the pictures up? Without that happening." He had a photo of Justin leaning across the table with one hand cradling Emma's jaw and his tongue half in her mouth. She laughed embarrassedly. At least she didn't have to pretend for that part. She hadn't intended for it to go beyond a little friendly kissing at lunch. Groping in the car, then dinner the next night, and then spending the night at Justin's house had been an honest surprise to her, and she wasn't sure why it had happened. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment all her common sense had been overruled by her Bad Idea Hormones.
The audience whistled and cheered. "Oh my god," said Emma, hand over her mouth. "That looks… It wasn't really like that!"
"I don't know," said Jay. "Looks pretty serious."
"You'd have to ask Justin about that," Emma said, and Jay laughed while the audience shrieked.
--
"I do appreciate it," said Andrew in the green room back stage. "I'm just asking whether it's a good idea or not. I mean, that's four times you've been photographed together now."
Emma changed her shoes. "I'm the Spider-man scandal, you're not. Thank me and shut up."
"No, but I have questions," Andrew insisted. "Did you need to kiss him quite so enthusiastically? Have you two negotiated how much touching will go on and what kind? Aren't you a bit worried about where he's been?"
"You doofus," Emma said, rolling her eyes. "It's just something I’m doing as a favor for a friend. It doesn't mean anything, it's not going to have any repercussions."
"You look awfully friendly though-"
"Eww! Andrew, stop being gross. Justin and I are professionals."
Andrew was openly laughing at her now. "So the pictures of you leaving his house yesterday morning, the ones where you're still wearing the clothes from that interview we did the night before, that was just really careful planning?"
Emma refused to look at him. Her cheeks were burning a little bit. Some of the photo opportunities had been planned and some of them had involved cameramen unexpectedly in the bushes outside Justin's house. "I guess you'll just have to die wondering about that."
"Oh my god, this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. Is it likely to happen again?" Andrew asked, delighted.
"Absolutely not," said Emma. "Not unless you have some other sort of baby crisis. Or any other kind of crisis, I guess. Speaking of which, I half thought you were going to propose to Jesse on Leno's couch."
Andrew shrugged. "That would be a bit presumptuous."
Emma gave him a long look through narrowed eyes. "You considered it."
"He doesn't even own a TV. I'd be talking to myself. Now explain your walk of shame from Timberlake's house. Entertainment Tonight certainly had some ideas about what was going on."
Emma lied, "It was all for the cameras, Andrew, obviously. I went over late, we ignored each other for a few hours, and then I left after he called TMZ. No big deal."
"So you didn't do anything?"
"No," Emma said firmly. "Or… Well, at least, I'm not going to do anything again so it doesn't matter." Andrew howled with laughter and Emma tried not to blush. "Get your life together, Garfield. You're ruining mine."
He tried to look serious. "I'm sorry about that."
"When we fly out to New York next week for Letterman you can make it up to me by talking to Jesse. Repeat after me, 'Jesse, I want you to be my boyfriend-'"
"Stop it, shut up, I've got a baby, he might not want to - Honestly, Emma." Andrew crossed his arms, working hard to look angry. "Besides, he's only texted me this week, he hasn't called once. That's rude."
"Are you still pretending to be mad?"
"I'm not pretending." He sounded petulant and ridiculous instead of righteous or angry. "I’m really very cross with him."
"Aww," said Emma, grabbing her coat. "That's cute."
"It is not! If it all goes horribly wrong in New York you'll have to take me out for drinks."
"I promise," said Emma.
"Even if it means ditching a date with Justin."
She punched him on the arm a lot more lightly this time, and he laughed and followed her out the door.
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