opening night
by Velma
Joey sighed, rolling over in bed and groaning as his ears picked up on warbling coming from the direction of the bathroom. "For the love of Christ, Kirkpatrick," he murmured. "I hear that eight hours a day. And you're not Mimi Marquez. Although," he paused, considering, "bubble wrap might be fun."The door to the bathroom swung open, and before Joey really had a chance to process what was happening, he found himself flat on his back, a warm, wet body laying on top of his.
"Morning, Fatone," Chris said, kissing his nose. "Are you excited? Are you nervous? Big day. Huge day. Massive implications for your future. Your theatrical debut! He could. go. all. the. WAAAAAAAAAY."
Joey swallowed, pushing Chris off him with a grimace. "Thanks, man. You're really helping with those butterflies."
Chris grinned, crossing his arms behind his head. "Anytime, Joe. It's what I'm here for."
Joey quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And here I thought it was for lots and lots of sex. What was it you said last night? 'C'mon, Joe. It's been EIGHT HOURS and I'm withering up. My dick's going to fall off. *DO* Something.'" Joey clasped his hand to his chest dramatically.
Chris flipped him off amiably. "A man has needs, Joe. A man has needs."
Joey grinned, throwing a towel at him before pulling on his own boxers. "Cover yourself, man. No one needs to see that."
Chris pretended to pout, drying himself off and wrapping the towel around his waist. "That's not what you said last night."
"That's funny," Joey said, "I don't remember anyone talking much last night. If I recall correctly, your mouth was otherwise occupied." He smirked, narrowly avoiding the pillow that came flying at his head.
"I hope you trip when you walk onstage," Chris shouted after him as he headed down the hall and into the kitchen. "And, like. Break your fake glasses, you ass."
Joey shook his head, chuckling, and opened the fridge, intent on making breakfast. One look at food, however, and his stomach rolled in protest. He sighed, sitting down at the table and leafing through his tattered script, humming softly under his breath.
Chris appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, leaning against the frame. "Hey, man," he said softly. "I was kidding. I don't want you to break your glasses. You look kind of cute in them. I'm just jealous on account of not being able to see five feet in front of my face without mine."
Joey chuckled weakly, only a little surprised when Chris pulled a chair up next to him and leaned in, resting his head on Joey's shoulder. "You're going to be great, you know that, right? Like, seriously, Joe. And you know how crazy the ladies go for guys who can sign, dance, *and* act."
Joey rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself. "Right. Because I'm doing this to pick up some tail."
Chris's eyes softened. "Listen, you big lug, I know why you're doing this. I just hope you know that the only person you need to prove anything to is yourself. 'Cause the rest of us? We've known how good you are all along."
Joey blushed, could feel the heat working its way up to his ears. "No one's ever faulted me for lack of confidence, Chris."
"Maybe not," Chris said, "but out of all of us you're the one that hogs the spotlight the least. You've paid your dues, Joe. Enjoy the fuck out of this, okay? There's no need to be nervous. I've *seen* your rehearsals. Let 'em come in doubting. If there's anyone I'd pick to win over a tough crowd, it's you."
Joey shook his head, his grin coming much easier now. "You're something else, Kirkpatrick."
"That's right," Chris preened, stretching his arms over his head. "I'm the MAN. I'm *your* man." He leaned over, kissing Joey's cheek wetly. "I'm a hungry man. My dick's not the only thing that's going to wither up and die if it doesn't get some attention soon."
Joey groaned, pushing away from the table. "Eggs okay?"
Chris nodded, wandering off to get dressed, Joey assumed, as he set about preparing breakfast. It was oddly comforting, the domesticity of it, and he lost track of time as he stood there. It couldn't have been too long, though, before two hands slid around his waist and he felt warm lips press into the back of his neck.
Joey started to turn, but Chris held him in place, mumbling, "I don't say it enough, I know I don't, but jeez, Joey. This is huge. The big time. Fucking *Broadway*. You're really doing it, and I'm really proud."
Joey's cheeks were hot again, and not from the stovetop. "Breakfast's ready," he said gruffly, sliding the eggs onto plates and setting them on the table.
Chris tipped Joey's chin up. "I'm serious," he said, before leaning in and kissing him. His eyes were sparkling when he pulled away. "Although, dude, if you do trip I am disavowing any and all knowledge of your sorry ass."
Joey cuffed him upside the head, winking. "I guess that means you wouldn't get any more of this sorry ass." He laughed at the crestfallen look on Chris's face. "Whatever, man. You know it's irresistible. Eat your eggs." He picked up his own fork, suddenly hungry again, and started to eat. It was going to be one hell of a day.
- fin -