fic: Wavelanders, Cubs Fandom AU (Barrett/Grudzielanek) - Part 3
Title: Wavelanders (Part 3)
Authors: insidian and minervacat
Pairings: Prior/Wood, Michael Barrett/everybody, Barrett/Grudzielanek
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Wavelanders is an AU in which the members of the 2004 Cubs team are reimagined in LA, stars of the screen instead of the field. Wherever possible, we've tried to map the boys' lives as movie stars to their ( Read more... )
Authors: insidian and minervacat
Pairings: Prior/Wood, Michael Barrett/everybody, Barrett/Grudzielanek
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Wavelanders is an AU in which the members of the 2004 Cubs team are reimagined in LA, stars of the screen instead of the field. Wherever possible, we've tried to map the boys' lives as movie stars to their ( Read more... )
But Dusty frowned on strangling his bartenders - "They're tough to replace, guys," he'd once said to Mark and Mo after a particularly nasty bar fight with Marsters and Boreanez. "Nobody wants to tend bar at Wavelanders, and I don't blame 'em. Cut it out."
"Steve's a great guy. Learned loads working for him. Insert standard industry bullshit here." Todd's eyes bugged a little and Mark waved him off. He could feel his nasty drunk coming out tonight, and for once he didn't really care to stop it.
Mark didn't want to be seen, but he wanted to see. He'd spent too many nights in a hospital and in his house to stay away now.
The final and only thing Mark had going for him, his astonishing recovery, was overshadowed by the Allergy King and His Now Healed Back of Cellophane.
Todd Walker looked stunned, and Mark recognized the panicked look of a waiter just asked to remember exactly what 75 people have ordered over the past hour. Mark thought of giving him some help, but his mean drunk rallyed and made him shake the ice in his glass at Todd. ... He didn't feel left out. He didn't feel jealous. He just watched and drank through it all, isolated, indifferent like he'd been the last month. The only feeling he had was the bile rising in his throat every time Mo moved.
And the whole goddamned bar roaring for Sammy when he showed up after a too-long recovery but not even noticing that Mark was turning up again.
Second best, second rate, somebody's shadow. That's just how it was, Mark thought nastily, and how it always had been and how it always would be. Always standing in somebody's shadow - and then Mark was in one. He looked up and saw Greg Maddux standing by his booth.
What do you say to Greg Maddux when you think he's hitting on you?
Greg went on. "Plus, I wanted to say congratulations on getting out of the hospital without making a fuss. Sammy's pissing me off with his 'I'm back' schtick. Like it's a miracle that muscles heal or something."
It was a plain card, unostentatious. Just "GREG" and a number in big block lettering. Or maybe that was ostentatious in a minimalist way. Whatever.
Was it wrong that he didn't feel any better? An old man gave him a fucking piece of cardstock and the world was a better place? He was out of gin, too, and the bar still looked like a madhouse.
"I don't smoke in public," he amended, silently thankful that his mysterious assailant hadn't let him finish. ... He could feel the nicotine pumping in his veins, below the haze of booze and adrenaline, and he closed his eyes, briefly.
"This isn't public," the voice said.
"Yeah, well, public enough if Dusty catches me. But thanks anyway, buddy."
Maybe it was the four g&ts, maybe it was the truly epic length of time since anyone had ventured anywhere near his mouth, maybe it was the familiar way this near-stranger had leaned in, but Mark had closed his eyes and invested in the kiss for a few seconds or a year before shaking Michael off.
“Whoa, wait a minute-” he held the blond (weren’t the poolboys always blond?) at an arms length.
...I’m not the other Ma-”
“You’re not the first Mark I’ve kissed today,” he returned Mark’s grasp on his upper arms, “You’re a lot better at it than he was,”
His knees went and Mark crumpled against the wall. “Oh... God help me...”
“He did, Grudzie,” Michael rose with an unholy elegance that only the knees of the young can accomplish.
He licked the front of his teeth and spit across the alley. “Oh, and I think you owe me an invitation to lunch with Mr. Maddux. I‘m off on Tuesdays. Ciao.”
Little fucker. Messing with my Grudzie that way. I feel so overly protective!
Reply
I know I e-mailed you about Grudzie, and how we gave him everything good and he unexpectedly angsted out on us. Healed from accident? Angst. Part in movie? Angst. Free drinks on Sammy? Angst. Free blowjob from pool boy? AngstAngstANGST. You don't even want to know what he did to the puppy we gave him between scenes, just rest assured that there was angst.
And really... What *do* you say to Greg Maddux when you think he's hitting on you?
Reply
If you're Grudzie, maybe it's different.
Reply
Greg Maddux: Hello, may I buy you a drink?
Min: TAKE ME NOW IF IT WILL HELP YOU!
Greg Maddux: Excuse me?
Min: *to bar patrons* CLEAR THE BAR AND FIND ME CONDOMS!
On the other hand, maybe it wouldn't be that different for Grudzie...
Reply
Reply
If Greg Maddux is hitting on me, I pull Min in front of me. Greg Maddux creeps me out. It was those glasses he used to wear - he looked like the stereotype of a serial killer.
Reply
Leave a comment