A/N: Reviews, pretty please? Things are just getting exciting! :) -DL
Chapter 6
Drew woke up when his alarm went off. He sat up in bed, blinking, feeling his usual morning malaise. He couldn't even imagine having to get up at five in the morning to go to work, like Jarrod did...
Jarrod. Jarrod was living with him now! Drew felt a rush of pleasure, and it helped to lift the blanket of tiredness and fogginess that enveloped him every morning until he'd had his coffee. He was in the best mood that he'd been in in the morning in...well...ever! He hopped out of bed, whistling to himself, and went into the bathroom to splash water on his face and start his day.
When he padded out into the living room, he saw that the blanket had been neatly folded at one end of the couch. Jarrod's suitcase lay next to it, with the lid closed. Drew sniffed at the air, smelling the aroma of freshly-brewed coffee. Like a hound on the scent, he made a beeline for the kitchen. He almost never remembered to set his coffeemaker to start brewing in the morning, but apparently Jarrod had set it before he'd left the apartment to go to work. He sighed in bliss at the sight of a half-full pot of coffee. "Jarrod, you lover, you," he crooned. "As if I needed any other reason to think that you're awesome!"
There was a note sitting on the counter. He picked it up and read it. In Jarrod's neat handwriting it said: 'Drew. The coffee should be ready by the time you get up, and I'll have fresh-baked pastries for you by the time you get to the set. I'll also be baking you things that you can eat in the morning every day after this, because you need to eat breakfast. It's just my way of saying 'thank you' once again for your great kindness toward me ' -Jarrod.
Drew found himself smiling. What a lovely creature Jarrod was. His life was definitely looking up. He went to grab a mug from his cupboard and pour himself a cup of coffee, anticipation bubbling up inside of him. It smelled so great! Coffee was the drink of the Gods, sent down to Earth to make mankind happy. Of course, in his case the same thing could be said about Jarrod...
He arrived at the movie set twenty minutes later. He made straight for the catering table, seeing Jarrod busy among his dishes and plates as he fed the hungry crew. He smiled and lifted his hand, and Jarrod's eyes lit up. He smiled that beautiful smile in return, as he called: "Drew! Good morning!"
"Good morning, Jarrod," he replied. "Thanks for the coffee. it was great. Really helped me to wake up."
"I'm glad. Are you hungry?"
"Oh, definitely. Starving, in fact. What have you got?"
"Crepes with strawberries and whipped cream, and bacon," Jarrod told him.
"Those sound awfully fattening," Drew teased. "I'm going to have to work out even harder today than normal."
Jarrod laughed. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But it's turkey bacon, the strawberries are fresh, no sugar involved, and the whipped cream is low fat. The crepes are made from rice flour. egg whites, low fat milk, and organic butter. They're really nice, I swear. They don't taste like health food at all."
"Aww, Jarrod, you're so nice. Looking after our health as well as our tummies! What would I do without you?" Drew asked, still teasingly. He wasn't going to even hint at the fact that he meant this question seriously.
Jarrod shook his head as he served food for Drew onto a plate. "I could say the same, Drew," he said softly. "You've saved my life. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't invited me to stay with you yesterday."
"I don't mind. Like I said, getting home-cooked meals in return for letting you stay with me - seems like I'm getting the better end of the bargain," he remarked with a smile as he took the full plate of food.
Jarrod chuckled. "All right. Eat your breakfast, Drew."
He was happy to do so. The food was as good as always, and he was starving. Jarrod served other people, chatting with them, while Drew leaned on the table and listened. He just liked to hear the sound of Jarrod's voice, and to watch the expressions that crossed his face. Yes, he was totally lovesick. But it was a disease that he didn't want to find a cure for.
He finally had to put down his empty plate and go to work. He only had a few scenes left to shoot. While he'd feel some regret that it was over, he'd also be grateful. Filming a movie, especially one where he was the star, had been a lot of work.
"So, I only have a few wrap-up scenes to finish," Drew remarked to Jarrod that evening, as he sat on a bar stool at his breakfast bar and watched Jarrod cook dinner for them both. "The rest will be post-production stuff. They might need me to come back in once in awhile, but after tomorrow the bulk of the movie will be finished."
"You must be so excited," Jarrod said with a smile.
"Oh, I am. Also, nervous. It's not like I expect this film to be a blockbuster hit, but if it totally tanks I might never get another starring role in a movie."
"I've really enjoyed feeding the crew of your movie," Jarrod said. "It'll be kind of sad, moving on. I got to know so many nice people, especially you, Drew."
"Well, you'll still get to see me every day," Drew pointed out. "Since you live with me now."
"That's true. I wonder where they'll send me next. Maybe they'll put me back on catering events, rather than doing something longer-term like catering a film production."
"That's one of the things I love about acting; I never know what I'll be doing next," Drew mused. "I can't wait to see what role I'll get after this."
"Bet you'll want something completely different," Jarrod said as he stirred the pot on the stove top.
"It would be nice. No actor likes to be stuck in one type of role only. That limits the kinds of jobs we can get. That's a death knell for an actor's career," he didn't add aloud that that was why he hadn't come out yet, because he was afraid that he'd be shoehorned into gay roles only. And there weren't that many of those in Hollywood...
They spent the evening watching a couple of DVDs that they'd rented, sitting side-by-side companionably on the couch. Jarrod had a blow of popcorn on his lap, which gave Drew an excuse to practically stick his hand in Jarrod's groin. A nice situation, most definitely. He wasn't that big a fan of popcorn, but he kept dipping his hand on the bowl as though he loved the stuff. He and Jarrod pretended to fight over the last of the popcorn, which made Jarrod laugh - and made Drew get such a raging hard-on that he nearly groaned aloud.
"This has been great," Jarrod finally remarked, taking the empty bowl into the kitchen. "But I've got to get to bed."
"Yeah. I'll go finish my book in my room," Drew replied, rising to his feet. "Sleep well, Jarrod."
"You, too, Drew," the caterer said with a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow on-set."
Drew sighed as he went into his bedroom. This being a good boy was very hard on him. All he wanted to do was to jump on Jarrod like a slavering dog in heat, but he knew that he couldn't. He had to hold back, no matter how difficult it was for him. Jarrod deserved both time to get over his broken heart, and consideration of his feelings. But, dear God, this was going to leave Drew with some long, cold nights as he lay in bed thinking about the adorable creature sleeping on his couch. So close, and yet so far...
The wrap-up party for the movie was three days later. Jarrod's company catered the shindig, and not only was he there but a full staff of waiters in white coats was as well. They circulated through the crowd, holding trays of hor d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne for the guests. Drew was mingling, chatting with the rest of the cast and the crew, but his eyes kept straying to buffet table where Jarrod was replenishing the platters of food. He would much rather have been home with Jarrod right now, watching TV or a movie and talking. But this was as much a part of his job as acting was, so he smiled and chatted and schmoozed. The evening dragged on, and he didn't get to say anything to Jarrod except for 'hi' when he went to collect as plate of food from the buffet table. He started to develop a headache after awhile, wishing desperately that he could just go home.
Finally, it was late enough that he could politely get away. He said his 'goodbyes' to everyone, waving away offers to go to nightclubs and party the night away. He sighed in relief as he walked out to the parking lot, glad to shake off the festivities and leave the crowds behind. While he loved acting, some of the things that went along with it were just chores. He'd never been much of a party animal. He'd much rather climb into bed with a good book(or a good man, if he could swing it) than go to a crowded club and drink way too much alcohol.
He started toward his car, but his eyes caught movement off to his left. He started to turn, then he felt a shocking burst of pain as something slammed into his shoulder with great force. He staggered back ,then ducked as whatever it was(he thought it might be a length of pipe) was swung at his head instead. He growled, a sound that was half-groan as his shoulder flared up in agony, and darted forward instead of stepping backward again. If that pipe connected with his skull, he was a goner. He used his good arm, swinging it with all of his might, and connected with his attacker's jaw. The pipe clattered to the concrete of the parking lot as whoever it was went down. Drew kicked the pipe away with his foot, then stood there gripping his arm and panting in agony.
"Drew!" a voice yelled, and he turned to see the director(and a whole bunch of other people from the party) standing there looking shocked. "What's happened?"
"Somebody hit me with a pipe," he ground out.
"What?! Who? Why?"
"I don't know why, but the who is right there," he nodded at the unmoving figure lying on the concrete.
"Somebody call the police!" Cid rapped out. "And you two," he turned to two young actors standing nearby, "Subdue that person," he pointed toward the attacker, "Until the police come. Now!" he barked.
The actors hurried over to kneel down next to the figure and hold his arms in case he woke up. Drew stumbled over to them. "Let me see his face," he said tightly.
One of them reached out to remove the ski mask from the face of the attacker. Drew's mouth was a grim slash as he looked down into the face of Steve, Jarrod's former boyfriend...
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