FIC: Radio Friendly 10 of 10 (Blake/Chris, PG)
Author: Clio
Title: Radio Friendly Part 10 of 10: I'd Walk a Mile
Pairing: Blake/Chris (American Idol)
Rating: PG
Summary: In which friends gather together.
Length: 2000 words
Disclaimer: People sort of own themselves, don't they? Which means this is a work of fiction.
Notes: Radio Friendly is an AU set in 1962, when New York was the center of pop music and the Brill Building was where it all happened, when a group of talented songwriters and producers crafted perfect pop hits for artists whose every move was controlled by their label. Pictures and songs will be used along the way to take you back to yesteryear-and for those who'd like more info, see the additional author's note at the bottom.
You're reading this story because lillijulianne was so enthusiastic and allysonsedai insisted that it see the light of day, because they were willing to keep reading even when I sent three chapters in one weekend, and were instrumental in the flow, in pointing out what it needed and what it didn't, and in holding my hand through the entire thing. Thank you, ladies!
This story is dedicated to three fantabulous men: "Handsome Jeff", who didn't get to see the nineties (and would have loved them, darling); golden-haired Walter, who made me feel better about being smart (why the big suit indeed) and also left us far too soon; and my uncle, who is living into his eighties in Connecticut with his lover of over thirty years, and who wasn't as lucky as Blake and Chris-he had to run his car into a tree before he realized that he'd rather be out than dead. (Blake's line about Rymon and his parents I have said about my two uncles more than once.) Because of him I learned about the birds and the bees and homosexuality all in one big bundle, and that's how I intend to teach my kids. And sort of because of him, or really his sister my mom, I learned how to be a good fag hag, which has probably been more useful than almost anything. Of course, slash wouldn't be possible without the fag to my hag, my own P____, who is luckier than Jeff and Walter were, but only in time. I love you, my own boys.
Chapter 1: Come to Where the Flavor Is
Chapter 2: Where Particular People Congregate
Chapter 3: This Is the One They'll Have to Beat
Chapter 4: You've Come a Long Way, Baby
Chapter 5: Alive with Pleasure
Chapter 6: It's What's Upfront That Counts
Chapter 7: We'd Rather Fight Than Switch
Missing Scene 1: Ryan and Simon
Chapter 8: So Round So Firm So Fully Packed
Missing Scene 2: Chris and Blake
Chapter 9: Instead of a Sweet
Additional Scene: One Big Circle
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
September 28, 1992
"I'm glad the calendar has reset," Blake said. "Last year it was almost too warm. Today it's really fall."
"I don't think they call it 'resetting'," Chris said. "But you're right about the weather."
Gathering for Rosh Hashanah had started in 1966, when Elliott and Kat were first married and still living most of the year in New York. Kat, who had converted, jumped into Judaism with the same fervor she had for singing, somehow convincing Chris, Blake, Haley and Gina to come to their apartment for the holiday. After that, it became a tradition that grew every year, moving out to Fire Island in the early seventies. By then nearly everyone except Chris and Blake were living full time in LA, so they needed the bedrooms in their and Ryan's beach houses to hold all the guests. Late September was a welcome lull between summer tours and the run up to the Christmas retail season, and being out at the beach during the off season with friends felt like a better year-end celebration than January, especially as nearly all of them worked on New Year's. It wasn't very religious anymore; more like an excuse for friends to gather, one they'd felt the need for after Sligh's death.
Chris and Blake were carrying two dishes over to Ryan's, where the dinner would be served, but were taking their time strolling down the beach, enjoying a moment alone. They had a houseful, with Kat and Elliott and Gina and Haley filling two extra bedrooms, though it wasn't nearly as chaotic as when there had been several small children running in every direction. And they'd see everyone, and even more friends, in a month for a benefit concert in Ace's honor, with the proceeds going to Ryan's foundation.
"Can't we stay out here? I don't want to go to Toronto on Wednesday," Chris said. "I have a bad feeling this show isn't going to get past the out-of-town. Who wants to watch prisoners sing about their fantasy woman?"
"No talking about work today," Blake sing-songed. "Besides, if we get to London we can stay in Simon's house!"
"You make it sound like you don't care how the show does as long as you get to stay in that house."
"If the show doesn't do well, Chris, we won't be in London, and we won't be able to stay in the house. And now we are going to stop talking about work."
"We're about there anyway. Oh, are those our hosts I see?" Chris replied, pointing to two men sitting on the beach under a blanket. He waved, and Simon and Ryan waved back, so Chris and Blake turned to walk toward them.
"Are you two getting old? It's not that cold out here," Blake said.
Simon stuck out his tongue.
"It's nice to know that you can still act like a ten-year-old now that you're almost eighty," Ryan said.
"Ryan, I have no vices left. My hair has gone gray, I have to watch my cholesterol, and I can't even smoke anymore. Let me have some fun."
"I let you have all the fun you want. The only reason we're under this blanket is that you can't keep your hands to yourself."
Blake shook his head. "You two are like some bizarre gay version of my parents."
"Excuse me," Ryan replied, "but I am only seven years older than you."
"All right, kids, zip up and come into the house," Chris said.
"Only if you'll keep Katharine away from me," Simon replied. "She ordered me around all morning."
"Shut up, you loved it," Ryan said. "You'll still do anything she asks you to do."
"That's why I need her to stay away, Ryan," Simon said.
"Up up," Chris ordered with a hand motion, and after a bit of shifting and brushing off, the four of them headed up the beach toward Ryan's house, waving at their friends on the deck before walking in through the side door.
"Hello, other house people," Blake said.
Daughtry, sitting in the living room with Kelly, shook his head. "You'd think you hadn't just had us over for brunch, Blake."
Chris walked further into the room. "Do your spouses know you're sitting together on the couch like this?" he teased.
Kelly rolled her eyes. "Brian wants to quit law school," she said, referring to their youngest, "and join a band."
"Ooh," Blake said, wincing. "Hard to argue that one."
"No kidding," Daughtry answered.
Chris was about to answer, when two large dogs came bounding into the room. "Whoa, well, I guess Gina and Haley are here."
Simon, hearing the noise, came in from the kitchen. "Why do lesbians always have large dogs?"
"Why do gay men always have small dogs?" Blake asked.
"Paula has small dogs," Simon replied.
"Paula is a gay man," said Ryan, who'd come into the room after him. "That's why you married her."
Haley ran into the room. "I am so sorry," she said. "Come on girls, back outside!" she ordered, and the dogs quickly complied.
"Hey now," Daughtry said. "Being nice about the ex is rule one of the amicable divorce and remarriage."
"I love Paula, and I always have, but you really can't argue that point. Here, Kat wants these things," he said, and Blake handed over the food they'd brought.
"We'll leave you to this," Chris said to Kelly and Daughtry. "Ace will start calling for us in a second anyway."
"He already has," Haley said. "Something about beaches?"
Chris looked at Blake, who shrugged. They headed out to the deck.
As they walked through the door, Brandon said, "Well, here they are, so if you don't believe me, you can ask them."
"What?" Blake asked, sitting next to Gina.
"He thinks he's starting to look like Barbara Hershey in Beaches," Tamyra said.
"You'd have to get collagen injections for that," Chris said.
"And a lot more blush," Blake added.
"I told you, honey, I love you, but I'm not going down that Whatever Happened to Baby Jane road with you," Brandon said.
Ace and Brandon had moved out to Ryan's house permanently back in May. Ace was holding court, as he did most days, from a large cushioned rattan chair in a sheltered corner of the porch, bundled against the slight late afternoon chill with blankets, a sweater, and a jaunty cap. But he still shivered a little, and his skin was ashen.
"What about that Camille idea with the pillows and the flowers and coughing delicately into a silk handkerchief?" Tamyra asked.
"You need movie lighting for that, and no one wants to pay all that money to ConEd," Brandon replied. "And I am not changing the water for all those flowers. This ain't Imitation of Life."
Ace waved his hand grandly. "It's too foreign-looking. I was America's Sweetheart!"
"I thought that was Kat," Gina said.
"You'll miss me!" Ace said. "Whose death will you be irreverent about when I'm gone?"
"Brandon's," they all said, almost at once.
Kelly and Daughtry came through the sliding door. "Are we still choosing a death scene for Ace?" Daughtry asked. He handed a beer to Bo, then sat down next to Tamyra, putting a hand on her thigh.
"What about Brian's Song?" Bo asked. "You guys kinda look like Jimmy Caan and Billy Dee."
"That's the way," Daughtry agreed. "Backstage at the benefit Brandon could give a big speech about singing our hearts out for Ace. God, I cried at the end of that movie."
"So did I," Chris said.
"You boys are fucking with my gaydar," Kelly said, "and it isn't fair."
"Or," Bo said, "Ace could get up and say, 'Today I consider my self-elf-elf …"
"The luckiest man-man-man …" Chris continued.
"On the face of the earth-earth-earth," Daughtry finished.
"I could do that," Ace said. "Don't look at me like that, Brandon. That's Gary Cooper."
Elliott poked his head out the door, but before he could say anything Gina shouted, "Shut the door!" so he quickly came through the door, shutting it behind him.
"Sorry," Gina said. "It's how the dogs got in."
"That's fine," Elliott said. "It's almost time for dinner, but since we have a couple of taped messages to watch, we thought we'd call everyone into the living room."
"Taped messages?" Tamyra said. "This weekend is becoming a damn awards show."
The friends regathered in front of the television, dogs and all, and the chefs-Haley, Ryan, and Kat-came in from the kitchen. Simon stood in the front.
"Right, everyone here? Okay, this first one is from Phil," he said, and popped in the tape.
Phil had come to the first few large gatherings, in the late '60s, but he found it too painful with Sligh not there, and in 1970 he and his wife and their family (which had expanded when they took in the Slighs' children) moved down to Miami, where Phil built a studio of his own and became a successful producer. He appeared on the screen, next to his wife. "Hey, y'all, sorry we couldn't make it, but know we're there in spirit. We want to wish you all a great holiday and a good year, and you keep right on visiting us when you're in Miami. We'll see you all next month at the benefit!"
"I hope we do," Ace whispered to Brandon.
"Come on now," Brandon whispered back. "He said he'd come." He kissed Ace on the cheek. "Happy thoughts."
Ace smiled, but he squeezed Brandon's hand just a little tighter.
"And here," Simon said, switching tapes, "is our message from Paula."
They heard Paula's laugh before she came on the screen. "Hello everyone from Paris! Can you believe it? I'm doing a show here, but you know I'll be in town in a few weeks for Ace's concert! I wish I could be there, but I sent you a present for the table. Jacques, come on! Come on!" A young man, who evidently had been operating the camera, came on the screen; he looked to be about thirty-five. "This is Jacques, my new music director. Isn't he adorable? I beat you, Simon!" She laughed, kicking her feet up in the air, and then the screen went dark.
"Oh my god," Ryan said. "I am not Simon's boy toy."
"It's karma," Kelly said, "because you called her a gay man."
"Nah," Elliott said, putting a hand on Ryan's shoulder. "Brother, I think we're all boy toys."
"What about Gina and Haley?" Ryan asked.
"That's a tough one," Daughtry said. "But I'd say Haley."
"Why?" Tamyra asked.
"She wrangles the dogs," Bo said.
"I don't know why we have to be so gender essentialist," Haley said.
"Gender essentialist?" Simon asked, shaking his head. "What happened to the girl we once knew?"
Blake laughed. "She got herself some-"
Chris firmly clamped a hand over Blake's mouth. "Blake, this is a family event."
"Why isn't anyone asking which one of us is the boy toy?" Brandon wondered.
"Oh, honey," Ace said, "it's so sweet that you can't see it."
"Well, what about them?" Brandon asked, nodding over in Chris and Blake's direction.
They all stared at the pair, as Chris removed his hand from Blake's mouth. "What?" Blake asked.
Gina cocked her head. "Chris," she pronounced.
"I'm the boy toy?" he asked.
"You turned down fame," Ace said, "and therefore you cannot be a diva."
"But so did Blake!" Chris protested.
"Not so publicly," Tamyra said. "Also, you're younger."
"By three years!"
"Can we continue this at the table?" Kat asked. "Dinner is ready."
As everyone else filed into the dining room, Chris turned to Blake. "I am not your boy toy."
"Of course not," Blake said, smiling. "We don't even have any dogs."
"Hmph," Chris said, folding his arms and scowling.
"C'mon, I don't want a boy toy," Blake said. "Then I'd have to be a diva, and that's too much work."
Chris turned to Blake, and his face softened. "Well, that's all right then."
"I'm so glad I'm in love with you," Blake said, kissing him on the cheek.
Chris smiled, and put one hand on Blake's back to lead him into dinner. "Me too, man. Me too."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
No multimedia here, no next chapter, so I'll use this space to say THANK YOU to all of you who read and enjoyed this story. I can't tell you how much it meant to me, since it's a very different kind of story. Yes, there WILL be a few missing scenes-unlike this story, which was complete when I started posting, they haven't been written yet so I'm not sure when they'll be posted, but look for them!
Notes: When I started this story I thought I would base Chris and Blake on Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart, but once I settled on the Beatles ending the timing didn't work. So they aren't really based on any pop songwriting team in particular.
But their Broadway career is 100% based on that of John Kander and Fred Ebb, the writers behind Cabaret (based on the play I Am a Camera, referenced in ch 8), Chicago, and Kiss of the Spider Woman (referenced in this chapter), who started writing together in 1963. They really did win a Grammy in '67 (for the Broadway cast album of Cabaret), their first Tony in '67 (for Cabaret), their first Oscar in '72 (for a song from Funny Lady), and an Emmy in '73 (for the TV special Liza with a "Z"). They continued to be successful, winning more Tonys in 1981 and 1993 (for KotSW) as well as an Oscar for Chicago, and were nominated for another Tony this year for their final show, Curtains. They also worked directly with Liza Minnelli very often, as well as Bob Fosse. They wrote shows that were traditional but modern, catchy but also naughty, which is just how I picture Blake and Chris on Broadway during the same period.
Title: Radio Friendly Part 10 of 10: I'd Walk a Mile
Pairing: Blake/Chris (American Idol)
Rating: PG
Summary: In which friends gather together.
Length: 2000 words
Disclaimer: People sort of own themselves, don't they? Which means this is a work of fiction.
Notes: Radio Friendly is an AU set in 1962, when New York was the center of pop music and the Brill Building was where it all happened, when a group of talented songwriters and producers crafted perfect pop hits for artists whose every move was controlled by their label. Pictures and songs will be used along the way to take you back to yesteryear-and for those who'd like more info, see the additional author's note at the bottom.
You're reading this story because lillijulianne was so enthusiastic and allysonsedai insisted that it see the light of day, because they were willing to keep reading even when I sent three chapters in one weekend, and were instrumental in the flow, in pointing out what it needed and what it didn't, and in holding my hand through the entire thing. Thank you, ladies!
This story is dedicated to three fantabulous men: "Handsome Jeff", who didn't get to see the nineties (and would have loved them, darling); golden-haired Walter, who made me feel better about being smart (why the big suit indeed) and also left us far too soon; and my uncle, who is living into his eighties in Connecticut with his lover of over thirty years, and who wasn't as lucky as Blake and Chris-he had to run his car into a tree before he realized that he'd rather be out than dead. (Blake's line about Rymon and his parents I have said about my two uncles more than once.) Because of him I learned about the birds and the bees and homosexuality all in one big bundle, and that's how I intend to teach my kids. And sort of because of him, or really his sister my mom, I learned how to be a good fag hag, which has probably been more useful than almost anything. Of course, slash wouldn't be possible without the fag to my hag, my own P____, who is luckier than Jeff and Walter were, but only in time. I love you, my own boys.
Chapter 1: Come to Where the Flavor Is
Chapter 2: Where Particular People Congregate
Chapter 3: This Is the One They'll Have to Beat
Chapter 4: You've Come a Long Way, Baby
Chapter 5: Alive with Pleasure
Chapter 6: It's What's Upfront That Counts
Chapter 7: We'd Rather Fight Than Switch
Missing Scene 1: Ryan and Simon
Chapter 8: So Round So Firm So Fully Packed
Missing Scene 2: Chris and Blake
Chapter 9: Instead of a Sweet
Additional Scene: One Big Circle
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
September 28, 1992
"I'm glad the calendar has reset," Blake said. "Last year it was almost too warm. Today it's really fall."
"I don't think they call it 'resetting'," Chris said. "But you're right about the weather."
Gathering for Rosh Hashanah had started in 1966, when Elliott and Kat were first married and still living most of the year in New York. Kat, who had converted, jumped into Judaism with the same fervor she had for singing, somehow convincing Chris, Blake, Haley and Gina to come to their apartment for the holiday. After that, it became a tradition that grew every year, moving out to Fire Island in the early seventies. By then nearly everyone except Chris and Blake were living full time in LA, so they needed the bedrooms in their and Ryan's beach houses to hold all the guests. Late September was a welcome lull between summer tours and the run up to the Christmas retail season, and being out at the beach during the off season with friends felt like a better year-end celebration than January, especially as nearly all of them worked on New Year's. It wasn't very religious anymore; more like an excuse for friends to gather, one they'd felt the need for after Sligh's death.
Chris and Blake were carrying two dishes over to Ryan's, where the dinner would be served, but were taking their time strolling down the beach, enjoying a moment alone. They had a houseful, with Kat and Elliott and Gina and Haley filling two extra bedrooms, though it wasn't nearly as chaotic as when there had been several small children running in every direction. And they'd see everyone, and even more friends, in a month for a benefit concert in Ace's honor, with the proceeds going to Ryan's foundation.
"Can't we stay out here? I don't want to go to Toronto on Wednesday," Chris said. "I have a bad feeling this show isn't going to get past the out-of-town. Who wants to watch prisoners sing about their fantasy woman?"
"No talking about work today," Blake sing-songed. "Besides, if we get to London we can stay in Simon's house!"
"You make it sound like you don't care how the show does as long as you get to stay in that house."
"If the show doesn't do well, Chris, we won't be in London, and we won't be able to stay in the house. And now we are going to stop talking about work."
"We're about there anyway. Oh, are those our hosts I see?" Chris replied, pointing to two men sitting on the beach under a blanket. He waved, and Simon and Ryan waved back, so Chris and Blake turned to walk toward them.
"Are you two getting old? It's not that cold out here," Blake said.
Simon stuck out his tongue.
"It's nice to know that you can still act like a ten-year-old now that you're almost eighty," Ryan said.
"Ryan, I have no vices left. My hair has gone gray, I have to watch my cholesterol, and I can't even smoke anymore. Let me have some fun."
"I let you have all the fun you want. The only reason we're under this blanket is that you can't keep your hands to yourself."
Blake shook his head. "You two are like some bizarre gay version of my parents."
"Excuse me," Ryan replied, "but I am only seven years older than you."
"All right, kids, zip up and come into the house," Chris said.
"Only if you'll keep Katharine away from me," Simon replied. "She ordered me around all morning."
"Shut up, you loved it," Ryan said. "You'll still do anything she asks you to do."
"That's why I need her to stay away, Ryan," Simon said.
"Up up," Chris ordered with a hand motion, and after a bit of shifting and brushing off, the four of them headed up the beach toward Ryan's house, waving at their friends on the deck before walking in through the side door.
"Hello, other house people," Blake said.
Daughtry, sitting in the living room with Kelly, shook his head. "You'd think you hadn't just had us over for brunch, Blake."
Chris walked further into the room. "Do your spouses know you're sitting together on the couch like this?" he teased.
Kelly rolled her eyes. "Brian wants to quit law school," she said, referring to their youngest, "and join a band."
"Ooh," Blake said, wincing. "Hard to argue that one."
"No kidding," Daughtry answered.
Chris was about to answer, when two large dogs came bounding into the room. "Whoa, well, I guess Gina and Haley are here."
Simon, hearing the noise, came in from the kitchen. "Why do lesbians always have large dogs?"
"Why do gay men always have small dogs?" Blake asked.
"Paula has small dogs," Simon replied.
"Paula is a gay man," said Ryan, who'd come into the room after him. "That's why you married her."
Haley ran into the room. "I am so sorry," she said. "Come on girls, back outside!" she ordered, and the dogs quickly complied.
"Hey now," Daughtry said. "Being nice about the ex is rule one of the amicable divorce and remarriage."
"I love Paula, and I always have, but you really can't argue that point. Here, Kat wants these things," he said, and Blake handed over the food they'd brought.
"We'll leave you to this," Chris said to Kelly and Daughtry. "Ace will start calling for us in a second anyway."
"He already has," Haley said. "Something about beaches?"
Chris looked at Blake, who shrugged. They headed out to the deck.
As they walked through the door, Brandon said, "Well, here they are, so if you don't believe me, you can ask them."
"What?" Blake asked, sitting next to Gina.
"He thinks he's starting to look like Barbara Hershey in Beaches," Tamyra said.
"You'd have to get collagen injections for that," Chris said.
"And a lot more blush," Blake added.
"I told you, honey, I love you, but I'm not going down that Whatever Happened to Baby Jane road with you," Brandon said.
Ace and Brandon had moved out to Ryan's house permanently back in May. Ace was holding court, as he did most days, from a large cushioned rattan chair in a sheltered corner of the porch, bundled against the slight late afternoon chill with blankets, a sweater, and a jaunty cap. But he still shivered a little, and his skin was ashen.
"What about that Camille idea with the pillows and the flowers and coughing delicately into a silk handkerchief?" Tamyra asked.
"You need movie lighting for that, and no one wants to pay all that money to ConEd," Brandon replied. "And I am not changing the water for all those flowers. This ain't Imitation of Life."
Ace waved his hand grandly. "It's too foreign-looking. I was America's Sweetheart!"
"I thought that was Kat," Gina said.
"You'll miss me!" Ace said. "Whose death will you be irreverent about when I'm gone?"
"Brandon's," they all said, almost at once.
Kelly and Daughtry came through the sliding door. "Are we still choosing a death scene for Ace?" Daughtry asked. He handed a beer to Bo, then sat down next to Tamyra, putting a hand on her thigh.
"What about Brian's Song?" Bo asked. "You guys kinda look like Jimmy Caan and Billy Dee."
"That's the way," Daughtry agreed. "Backstage at the benefit Brandon could give a big speech about singing our hearts out for Ace. God, I cried at the end of that movie."
"So did I," Chris said.
"You boys are fucking with my gaydar," Kelly said, "and it isn't fair."
"Or," Bo said, "Ace could get up and say, 'Today I consider my self-elf-elf …"
"The luckiest man-man-man …" Chris continued.
"On the face of the earth-earth-earth," Daughtry finished.
"I could do that," Ace said. "Don't look at me like that, Brandon. That's Gary Cooper."
Elliott poked his head out the door, but before he could say anything Gina shouted, "Shut the door!" so he quickly came through the door, shutting it behind him.
"Sorry," Gina said. "It's how the dogs got in."
"That's fine," Elliott said. "It's almost time for dinner, but since we have a couple of taped messages to watch, we thought we'd call everyone into the living room."
"Taped messages?" Tamyra said. "This weekend is becoming a damn awards show."
The friends regathered in front of the television, dogs and all, and the chefs-Haley, Ryan, and Kat-came in from the kitchen. Simon stood in the front.
"Right, everyone here? Okay, this first one is from Phil," he said, and popped in the tape.
Phil had come to the first few large gatherings, in the late '60s, but he found it too painful with Sligh not there, and in 1970 he and his wife and their family (which had expanded when they took in the Slighs' children) moved down to Miami, where Phil built a studio of his own and became a successful producer. He appeared on the screen, next to his wife. "Hey, y'all, sorry we couldn't make it, but know we're there in spirit. We want to wish you all a great holiday and a good year, and you keep right on visiting us when you're in Miami. We'll see you all next month at the benefit!"
"I hope we do," Ace whispered to Brandon.
"Come on now," Brandon whispered back. "He said he'd come." He kissed Ace on the cheek. "Happy thoughts."
Ace smiled, but he squeezed Brandon's hand just a little tighter.
"And here," Simon said, switching tapes, "is our message from Paula."
They heard Paula's laugh before she came on the screen. "Hello everyone from Paris! Can you believe it? I'm doing a show here, but you know I'll be in town in a few weeks for Ace's concert! I wish I could be there, but I sent you a present for the table. Jacques, come on! Come on!" A young man, who evidently had been operating the camera, came on the screen; he looked to be about thirty-five. "This is Jacques, my new music director. Isn't he adorable? I beat you, Simon!" She laughed, kicking her feet up in the air, and then the screen went dark.
"Oh my god," Ryan said. "I am not Simon's boy toy."
"It's karma," Kelly said, "because you called her a gay man."
"Nah," Elliott said, putting a hand on Ryan's shoulder. "Brother, I think we're all boy toys."
"What about Gina and Haley?" Ryan asked.
"That's a tough one," Daughtry said. "But I'd say Haley."
"Why?" Tamyra asked.
"She wrangles the dogs," Bo said.
"I don't know why we have to be so gender essentialist," Haley said.
"Gender essentialist?" Simon asked, shaking his head. "What happened to the girl we once knew?"
Blake laughed. "She got herself some-"
Chris firmly clamped a hand over Blake's mouth. "Blake, this is a family event."
"Why isn't anyone asking which one of us is the boy toy?" Brandon wondered.
"Oh, honey," Ace said, "it's so sweet that you can't see it."
"Well, what about them?" Brandon asked, nodding over in Chris and Blake's direction.
They all stared at the pair, as Chris removed his hand from Blake's mouth. "What?" Blake asked.
Gina cocked her head. "Chris," she pronounced.
"I'm the boy toy?" he asked.
"You turned down fame," Ace said, "and therefore you cannot be a diva."
"But so did Blake!" Chris protested.
"Not so publicly," Tamyra said. "Also, you're younger."
"By three years!"
"Can we continue this at the table?" Kat asked. "Dinner is ready."
As everyone else filed into the dining room, Chris turned to Blake. "I am not your boy toy."
"Of course not," Blake said, smiling. "We don't even have any dogs."
"Hmph," Chris said, folding his arms and scowling.
"C'mon, I don't want a boy toy," Blake said. "Then I'd have to be a diva, and that's too much work."
Chris turned to Blake, and his face softened. "Well, that's all right then."
"I'm so glad I'm in love with you," Blake said, kissing him on the cheek.
Chris smiled, and put one hand on Blake's back to lead him into dinner. "Me too, man. Me too."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
No multimedia here, no next chapter, so I'll use this space to say THANK YOU to all of you who read and enjoyed this story. I can't tell you how much it meant to me, since it's a very different kind of story. Yes, there WILL be a few missing scenes-unlike this story, which was complete when I started posting, they haven't been written yet so I'm not sure when they'll be posted, but look for them!
Notes: When I started this story I thought I would base Chris and Blake on Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart, but once I settled on the Beatles ending the timing didn't work. So they aren't really based on any pop songwriting team in particular.
But their Broadway career is 100% based on that of John Kander and Fred Ebb, the writers behind Cabaret (based on the play I Am a Camera, referenced in ch 8), Chicago, and Kiss of the Spider Woman (referenced in this chapter), who started writing together in 1963. They really did win a Grammy in '67 (for the Broadway cast album of Cabaret), their first Tony in '67 (for Cabaret), their first Oscar in '72 (for a song from Funny Lady), and an Emmy in '73 (for the TV special Liza with a "Z"). They continued to be successful, winning more Tonys in 1981 and 1993 (for KotSW) as well as an Oscar for Chicago, and were nominated for another Tony this year for their final show, Curtains. They also worked directly with Liza Minnelli very often, as well as Bob Fosse. They wrote shows that were traditional but modern, catchy but also naughty, which is just how I picture Blake and Chris on Broadway during the same period.