End of Watch / one christmas eve
Title: one christmas eve
Authoress: Xenobia4
Rating: R
Genre: Humor/Drama
Pairing: Michael Peña / Jake Gyllenhaal
Summary: A snow storm leaves two actors stranded in New York City on Christmas Eve.
A/N: And a special Happy Christmas to Jake Gyllenhaal and Michael Peña. Hopefully their actual Christmases are better and no one gets stranded. (laughs)
one christmas eve
“So how about you two, then? You ever done anything ‘freaky’ with each other or what?”
Jake choked on his beer and some of it dribbled down his chin. While he was wiping it off with the back of his hand, Mike had his eyebrows together as he stared intently at the woman on the opposite end of the table. Meanwhile, the blonde woman sitting next to him was rubbing her brow line, shaking her head at her friend’s question.
“Hey, hey. Don’t even. You two want to see a show, then we’re gonna want something just as freaky in return,” the brunette woman sitting next to Jake nodded her head as she took a sip from her drink.
Michael and Jake glanced to each other and, while Jake took a swig of his seventh (eighth?) beer, Mike was looking at the woman curiously. “And dare we ask what you had in mind?”
The two women exchanged glances before leaning in close to each other and whispering back and forth. When the blonde woman looked at the brunette as though she was mental, but quickly started laughing and nodding her head, it had the two actors concerned on what they were getting into. With the blonde trying to hold back her laughter, the brunette set her drink on the table and made eye contact with both of the men. “
“All right. We’ll do it if you do it. That’s the deal.”
Both of them looked at each other before Jake busted out in drunken laughter.
“Wait, wait,” Mike said as he leaned on the table and waved his hand. “Let me see if I understand you ladies correctly: you two will make out if we-” He didn’t finish the sentence, so the brunette did it for him.
“Do the same damn thing. So? How about it?”
Mike and Jake, again, glanced at each other before Jake started laughing again as he took another drink. It appeared they both were seriously contemplating the trade off, if for no other reason than to see two highly-attractive females have a make-out session in front of them. Jake slammed his glass down on the table, still shaking his head. “Yeah, sure. Why the fuck not?” I looked at Mike, an awkward grin on his face. “I’m game if you are.”
Subconsciously, Mike was fiddling around with the wedding band on his left hand. “I don’t know, man.”
“Oh, come on! It’s Christmas! Live a little!” the brunette said loudly. “You’re in the City of Lights!”
“Act like you’re in Vegas. What happens in New York stays in New York,” the blonde inputted, getting an immediate vicious nod from her friend. “I mean…you two are attractive and, face it, you wouldn’t even consider agreeing to it if we weren’t, so you might as well just…have a little fun for a night.”
“We’ll buy the next round if you do it.” Michael bobbed his head before finally agreeing. “That’s the spirit!” the brunette said as she took a rather large sip from her drink before setting it down on the table. “All right. Let’s do this.”
The blonde nodded and also set her drink down after taking a sip from the black straw.
The two women faced each other and, as the brunette’s hand grabbed the side of the blonde’s face, the blonde grabbed onto the other’s wrists. They leaned into each other, mouths connecting and sparing no expense as they made it perhaps one-level under a porno. As tongues were going in and out, Mike was looking awkward and laughing while Jake had his eyebrows raised and a stupid, intoxicated grin glued to his face.
Perhaps it was because Mike did not have a fraction of the alcohol in his system as his friend did as to why he was not as actively involved. He was working on his third lager, was only buzzed and, for the most part, within the right state of mind.
After a rough minute, the two women finally broke apart and the blonde immediately looked embarrassed and awkward, avoiding eye contact with everyone at the table, though she was laughing along with her friend. She grabbed her Margarita and sipped it through the straw until it was nearly half gone.
“Not gonna lie. That was kinda hot,” Jake said, laughing as he looked to his costar, who was nodding.
“I won’t argue.”
The brunette laughed as she picked her drink up off the table and her friend sat back in her own chair. “All right. No one gets a show for free, so come on, boys. Pucker up.”
Michael and Jake glanced to each other, both looking awkward.
“Uh….” Mike glanced down to the wedding band on his left hand, running his thumb over the underside of it.
“No backing out! A deal’s a deal,” the brunette said as she smirked and took a sip of her martini.
“Yeah, no kidding,” the blonde chimed it, staring at both of the actors, though both of them were avoiding eye contact, not only with each other, but with both of the women. “Look, I just embarrassed the hell out of myself, so your all’s turn.” She laughed while her friend nodded, urging the two men.
The actors turned to look at each other and Jake’s face broke with drunken and awkward laughter. Shaking his own head, Mike’s face twisted into a look that mixed with disgust, awkwardness and intoxication, though the latter was not nearly as much as his costar. “Let’s just get it over with, man,” Jake said as he took another swig of his beer, staring at the bottle as he set it down on the table. Mike shook his head, but took note of how red Jake’s face was.
Alcohol or embarrassment?
Perhaps a bit of both, then.
“Oh. And if there’s no real action, you all are gonna have to reopen that tab, ‘cause you’ll be buying the rest of the night,” the brunette said, getting both of the males to shift awkwardly. The blonde, who seemed to be more modest than her friend, even agreed, shaking her head.
“I’m beginning to regret this trade,” Jake commented.
“Beginning to? Dude, I’ve been regretting it the second we agreed to do it.”
Jake waved his hand, giving a “that too” motion.
The blonde was playing with the small, black straw in her Margarita. “So stop talking and start doing.” She looked down, laughing as her brown-haired friend seemed to be in awe that she had spoken up.
“Fuck.” Jake made a sideways glance at his costar. Hitting his hands on the table, he turned in the chair to face Mike. “All right. I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
Mike groaned and copied the action. “Fine.” He looked at the two women. “No pictures, ladies.” The blonde nodded while the brunette put her hands up, as though showing she was not even holding her phone. Mike inhaled and looked at Jake, who was shaking his head in disbelief. Adjusting themselves, Jake leaned forward and clamped his eyes shut, while Mike leaned in, though his eyes were not entirely closed.
A drunken smile broke across Jake’s face when he and Mike were inches away and he found himself trying to hold from laughing. “This is so fucked up, dude.”
“Just shut the fuck up about it,” came the response, also accompanied with an awkward laugh.
When they were within centimeters, Jake lost it and started laughing, which had Mike mirror the reaction. “I can’t, man. I can’t.” Jake’s face was red as he shook it, trying to ignore the humiliation.
The two women laughed at the scene they had initiated and the blonde leaned on the table. “Chop-chop. You can’t have something for nothing.”
Mike waved his hand. “All right, all right. Jake, let’s just get it over with.”
Jake’s ears were bright red from both the alcohol and the laughter, but he nodded his head. “Okay, okay, okay.” He cleared his throat and lifted his head up. “All right. I’m good, I’m good.” He took a breath and looked to his partner, who was obviously unwillingly willing.
They had made a deal, after all.
“Make it count, boys.”
Shutting his eyes tight, he pushed his head forward. Mike’s eyes were only half closed, shoulders tense as he leaned forward. However, right when they were millimeters away from each other, Jake fell forward and his head hit his costar’s shoulder. Mike pressed his lips together, an odd half-smirk on his face as he looked sideways at the blonde sitting next to him.
“Are you serious?” the brunette asked rhetorically as the blonde woman gave a disbelieving look.
He shrugged, looking partially guilty, before putting his attention on his now-passed out partner. He placed his hand on Jake’s shoulder and shook him. “Yo. Jake.” When he shook him, the other just moved with the motion. Mike sighed and shook his head, then looked to the women, who glanced to each other. They both looked fairly annoyed. Another shrug, followed by, “Perhaps another night, then, ladies?”
The brunette seemed quite more upset than her friend, who was looking at Jake, looking as though she was trying to keep from laughing. “Is he even actually out?” the brunette asked, her tone traced with the annoyance her face mirrored.
Mike looked back down and shook Jake again before shifting where his cheek was now on his shoulder. His mouth was slightly open, eyes shut. “Um, I think so.” Though Michael was somewhat surprised Jake had lasted as long as he did, considering the amount of alcohol the star had consumed that evening. He moved his shoulder, making Jake’s head bob.
The brunette scoffed and pushed back her chair. “You know, you two are real assholes.” Her friend looked up at her, shocked at her reaction, and Mike looked apologetic, though did not verbally respond. “If you were gonna bail out, then you should’ve kept your mouths shut.” She grabbed her drink and knocked her arm into her friend’s shoulder before turning to leave.
The blonde looked from Jake to Mike and gave a nervous smile. “Sorry. I’ll call a cab for you,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to her friend who was now at the bar. She turned back and pushed her chair back.
“Thank you.”
She nodded again and looked back over her shoulder when her friend called her name. Grabbing her coat from the back of the chair and her drink, she told them “Merry Christmas” and to have a good night before going to join her friend. Michael watched her pull her cellphone out of the pocket on her jacket as she sat down at the bar with her friend, who looked back over to the men, still looking aggravated. He sighed and looked back down to Jake. Trying to figure out how he could move without his costar ending up on either the table or the floor, he leaned to grab the underside of Jake’s chair and pulled it as close to his own as he could. He knocked Jake’s head back to where he was leaning on Mike’s shoulder, mouth agape. Deeming it satisfactory, Mike grabbed his own beer that was still sitting on the table and took a drink, sitting back in his chair so as not to dump the younger actor on the ground.
He knew that others in the bar were making glances and stares in their direction, so, to do his best at ignoring them, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and started scrolling through his text messages. Pulling up a familiar number, he pressed to dial and put the phone to his ear as it rang. It rang until it reached voicemail and, once it beeped for him to leave his message, he had to speak a bit loud to make sure his message was heard over the sounds in the bar.
“Hey, babe. Didn’t know if you’d be up or not. Thought I’d try to catch you. Ran into Jake earlier this afternoon after finding out my flight was cancelled. Guess I’m not the only one stranded this evening. We ended up catching up while having a few drinks. Looks like we’re gonna be spending Christmas together. And, oh, I wish I could send you a picture of this. Looks like Mr. Gyllenhaal can’t hold his liquor to save his life. We’re still at the bar and he’s on me, passed out cold. There’s a mental image for you. Anyway, I’ll call you and Roman in the morning. Merry Christmas, baby. Love you.” He brought the phone down and slid the bar to end the call, then sighed and looked back down to the passed out male. “Noel, Noel,” he muttered, taking another swig of his drink.
When two guys passed by their table, one eyed them suspiciously while the other knitted their eyebrows together.
Nothing like being recognized.
However, it did have Mike making sure there was no one trying to sneak a picture of them. That was the last thing they needed was for some stupid headline popping up in the tabloids about something completely fictitious. Another man came by the table, but this was one Michael recognized as the bouncer who had been sitting in the front all night, checking I.Ds.
“You all needed a cab?” Mike glanced back to the bar where the two women were sitting, but they were gone. He had never even seen them leave; but when he nodded, the bouncer continued with, “It’s out front.” The bouncer’s eyes trailed from Mike to the incapacitated Jake Gyllenhaal.
Mike nodded and shifted, trying to move his partner. “Thanks, man.” He set his drink down on the receipt for the drinks and turned to grab Jake’s shoulders. He stood up and pulled Jake’s coat from the back of the chair to get it on him before putting on his own. However, the angle made it awkward for him to actually move the younger man and get him out of the seat. “Hey…could you help me just get him-?”
“Yeah,” the bouncer responded before the sentence was even finished. The bouncer walked up to them, grabbed Jake’s arm to loop it around his neck and stood up, bringing the actor with him. “I got him,” the man said when Mike went to help him. “Just get the door.” Mike was already ahead of him, weaving through the tables to get to the front door. He pulled it open and the bouncer had to shift Jake to get him through without hitting him on the frame.
Snow hit him in the face the moment he was out of the front door. The cab was out front, smoke billowing up from the exhaust in the cold weather. Once Mike opened the back door, he helped load Jake into the car, making sure his head didn’t hit on the door panel. The other immediately slumped in the seat, his head falling back on the wrapped interior. Mike shut the door and turned to face the bouncer. “Thanks, man.” He held out his hand.
“Not an issue. Make sure you all get back safe.”
They shook hands and, as Mike went to the other side of the car, the bouncer held up his arm to signify a wave as he turned to go back inside the bar. After he climbed into the opposite backseat and shut the cab door, he told the cabbie, “Hampton Inn.”
He saw the man nod and glanced into the backseat through the rearview mirror. “Too much to drink?” the man asked, accent thick, sounding from somewhere in the Middle East.
A nervous smile broke across Mike’s face. “Yeah. You could say that.”
The cab driver nodded his head, but said no more, noting the tone in the actor’s voice. Shifting the car into drive, he pulled off the curb of the bar and onto the main road, tire tracks tracing in the already-inches-deep snow. The lights of Times Square reflected in the windows as they drove through, passing people wearing formal winter coats walking the streets. While they were stopped at a light, Mike heard Jake groan and he turned to see the younger actor move in the seat where he was now facing him, still passed out. Mike shook his head before swinging his arm back and hitting Jake in the chest with the back of his hand. “Dude, I am not going to carry your ass. I will leave you here.” He stared at him, though he was not sure what type of response he was looking for. A frown befell his face as he released a sigh.
A familiar sight was outside of the car windows as the driver stopped in the loading dock outside of the Hampton Inn. The driver put the car in park and turned back to face the duo. “Fifteen fifty.”
Mike already had his wallet out, pulling out twenty-five. “Keep it.” The response was a thank you as the star climbed out of the car. He walked to the other side and pulled open the door, nearly slipping on a patch of ice as he did. As he grabbed Jake’s arm, the driver asked if he needed assistance getting the white male out of the car, which he declined. After all, what was the point of just having help getting him out of the car when he was stuck hauling Jake through the hotel, anyway? Bending down, he mimicked the actions of the bouncer from before and looped Jake’s arm around his neck and shoulders before standing up, releasing a groan when he did. “Jesus Christ,” he said when he had to hold up the other’s dead weight. The extra height definitely did not aid, either. He partially waved to the cabbie as he kicked the door to the vehicle shut.
Luck hit, however, when one of the bellhops came out to help him. It made it a lot easier to get Jake inside. That and the obviously-young man did not ask any questions other than what room they were staying in. However, when they got passed the lobby and into the elevator, it had grown apparent that the bellhop had recognized them.
Rephrase.
He had recognized Jake.
Shocking.
The kid did not ask if it was him, but his demeanor had changed and he seemed oddly excited. He shifted Jake’s arm and the hold around the star’s waist when he came out with, “So…I hate to intrude, and oh, please don’t think I’m being rude. I don’t mean anything by it, but”-the bellhop paused and had Mike hoping he would not finished his question, but that was denied when they continued saying-“are you, like…together? Or…I’m sorry,” he quickly added, noting the look of annoyance on Mike’s face.
The elevator reached the sixth floor at the moment, dinging as the doors opened. They carried him down the hall and the bellhop took all of the weight while Mike used the cardkey to get into the room. Once inside, they had to usher him to the bed and Mike tossed back the covers on the queen-sized bed so they could lay him down. There was a half-assed attempt to put the covers over him before Mike walked with the bellhop back to the door.
“Hey, thanks again for the help, man.”
The kid shook his head. “It’s no issue.”
Mike nodded and reached to his back pocket to take his wallet out. As he opened, he had to remark, “Oh, by the way. No, we’re not together. I just thought I’d get him drunk before I fucked him.” The look at the bellhop’s face was of shock and confusion, obviously trying to gauge the truth of the sentence, but Mike dropped him a twenty and shut the door before the kid could say anything.
He shook his head, laughing to himself.
That was mean.
He walked back to the main room and snatched the remote that was sitting on the top of the tele, turning it on. It turned on to NCIS, which he left and tossed the remote on the bed. He went into the bathroom to wash up. Jake was staying at the Embassy Suites, but what was Michael going to do? Drop him off at the front door with a note attached to his jacket? Though that would have been comical to watch. Perhaps had he have known the room number the younger man was staying in, he could have dropped him off there, but with all the alcohol floating in Jake’s system, Mike was waiting for the aftereffect to hit.
When he was done and coming out, he noticed that Jake’s head was turned away, facing the window on the opposite wall, and his upper body was partially turned to where his right arm was hanging off the left side of the bed. He wiped the rest of the water from his face as he made his way over and, just as he suspected, the other’s body was trying to expel the excess that his liver would not filter.
“Oh, shit, dude.” Mike took the hand towel he had and put it on the side of Jake’s mouth as a bit more vomit was coughed up. He glanced around, spotted the trashcan next to the bedside table, grabbed it and put it at the edge of the bed. Leaving the cloth under his head so if Jake did cough up more, it would not get on the bed; he went to the bathroom to grab a damp rag and a handful of bath tissue. Keeping the dry rag where it was, he used the damp one to wipe the vomit from his costar’s face. When he set it down on the table, Jake’s body convulsed and Michael was cussing as he grabbed the other’s head to hold it over the trash bin. “Exactly how I wanted to spend Christmas Eve.” He found himself growing aggravated, not just at having to take care of the younger man, but not being able to spend Christmas with his family. With all flights leaving and arriving to New York cancelled, he was already upset having to extend his stay at the Hampton. The last thing he wanted to do was play babysitter.
Then again, he had also been one of the ones trying to get Jake to drink more; so he could not really blame just him alone. Mike hung his head, mumbling obscenities in both Spanish and English. He turned to look sideways at the tele, which was switching to a commercial on ProActiv having a Christmas Special.
Mike snorted. “Yeah. Merry-fucking-Christmas.” He sighed and set his forehead on Jake’s shoulder as the man coughed up more alcohol. “We wish you a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year.”