Work Text:
Fight scenes were usually the most complicated for the actors. Not simply because of the meticulous choreography required, where one slip up could potentially lead to serious injury, but because of the intense emotions they had to maintain. These emotions didn't always end with JJ's signal that the scene was over, sometimes it took a bit longer to wind down and shake off the adrenaline.
Zachary Quinto knelt panting over his sparring partner, a disheveled-looking Benedict Cumberbatch. One of Zachary's hands was clutching the front of Benedict's shirt in an angry grip while his other hand was pulled back in a fist, muscles coiled taut and eyes burning with the hatred of his character, Spock. A more controlled, cold fury radiated from Benedict. Close up shots were being done, so they had to be as in-character as possible. The pair held the pose for several moments more as they'd been instructed to do, then JJ called the scene.
"Great work everyone!" the director shouted. "We're gonna take a short break. And I mean short, thirty minutes tops, so don't go too far."
Zachary finally broke character by letting out a slow, steadying breath, which became an embarrassed sound as he noticed the way one of his knees was braced into Benedict's side. He'd accidentally come down pretty hard on him and hadn't even realised it, mainly because the other man hadn't broken character to complain; Benedict had weathered it just as his character, Khan, would.
"Shit, I'm really sorry," Zachary apologised as he backed off and offered Benedict a hand up. "Are you hurt? I didn't see-- I slipped. I'm sorry."
"It's quite all right," Benedict replied with a diffident smile, accepting the proffered hand and getting to his feet, doing his level best not to wince. It was definitely going to leave a nasty bruise, but he didn't want to make Zachary feel bad over an honest mistake. They happened, especially when filming fights. By that time others on the set had caught on that something was amiss and predictably swarmed around the two actors, most of their concern on Benedict to ensure he was okay.
"It's fine, really," Benedict was saying, waving off all offers of help save the gel pack one. He truly didn't want to seem like he was playing up the injury, but they still had hours of filming to go, and he didn't want to favour his side too much. It would ruin the scenes.
JJ ended his brief phone call and approached Benedict and Zachary, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. "Awesome scene, guys. You okay?" he asked Benedict, who nodded and was looking discomfited by all the fuss. "Great. Why don't you two go cool off? Get some water. That was some powerful stuff, I don't want you getting burned out."
The two actors nodded, mumbled their agreement and JJ grinned, giving their shoulders a little shake before he strode off to see to other things. A director's work was never done.
One of the set assistants had returned and gave them each a fresh water bottle, along with a chilled gel pack for Benedict.
"Thank you," he said, tucking his bottled water underneath an arm while he pressed the gel pack beneath his coat, holding it against his ribs through the material of his shirt. He didn't want to cause additional hassle by messing up his wardrobe, so he simply kept it all on.
Zachary meanwhile was holding the cool bottled water against his forehead, still looking quite sheepish, but also anxious. "You should really get it looked at, it could be serious."
"I think I'll live." Benedict offered him a reassuring smile.
Zachary didn't look fully convinced, but let it drop, not wanting to be annoying with his worry.
"Walk with me?" Zachary asked, nodding toward the only clear path away from the set that was still bustling with people.
"Love to."
The pair slowly made their way out of the main cluster of people and toward a less busy area, politely nodding and smiling and murmuring their acknowledgement of the handful of people who approached them along the way. Someone involved with the wardrobe department expressed concern about the way Benedict had a hand inside his coat, thinking something was wrong with his clothes, until she realised he'd been hurt and began to mother him as well. Behind her back Zachary wrung his hands melodramatically and mouthed the words 'I'm so sorry', giving Benedict a good laugh.
Once they were finally alone, relatively speaking, they dropped down onto a stretch of lawn to have a break. Zachary sat with his knees drawn up and rested his arms on them, while Benedict sat cross-legged beside him.
"It's a hell of a scene," Zachary started, and took a long swallow from his bottled water, sighing afterward. "But it's been really fun, accidents aside." He had to consciously stop himself from apologising again.
Benedict chuckled as he carefully leant back until he was lying in the grass, bottled water propped against his thigh and one hand still holding the gel pack firmly to his ribs. "Don't beat yourself up so much. That's my job."
That prompted an amused grin from Zachary as he looked over at the other man, and his grin gradually abated into a fond smile when their eyes met, Benedict lowering his brows slightly and giving him a mock-angry look.
They made idle small talk for several minutes, unwinding together and enjoying the break while it lasted. It was approaching midday and the weather was sunny, mostly clear. A rather pleasant day on the whole.
"Are you doing anything tonight?" Zachary eventually asked, and there was a slightly different inflection in his voice than before, something to suggest a certain cautiousness, which Benedict wondered at. They were friends, after all, and hanging out with castmates was hardly unusual. It generally led to working better together.
"Nothing of note. Go over some lines I suppose. Sleep. And yourself?"
"About the same. You wanna hang out?"
"Are you all headed out somewhere?" Being a foreigner to the United States, Benedict enjoyed when the natives were willing to play tour guides of sorts for him.
"Nah, I don't mean the whole gang," Zachary said, taking another drink from his bottled water. "Just me."
Benedict seemed to be giving the request an inordinate amount of consideration, quiet as he gazed skyward, cloud watching. "Mm," he hummed thoughtfully at length, not looking away from the sky. "Like a date?" There wasn't the faintest hint of jest or mockery in his voice, and he sounded so perfectly serious that Zachary made a faint choking noise when he swallowed his water wrong.
"Oh. Huh. Uhm." Zachary coughed, cleared his throat. "You mean you're--? I didn't think. I mean you seem so..." He was stumbling over his words in his surprise, and part of him wondered if this might be misdirected revenge for the neutron cream prank that was pulled on Benedict. It wasn't a secret that Zachary was gay; he'd spoken openly about it before. But for Benedict to make him the butt of a joke because of his sexuality -- it was completely at odds with what he knew of the other man. The Brit hadn't seemed to possess a mean bone in his body.
"I'm so? So... what?" Benedict prompted with mirth in his voice, the corners of his eyes creasing as he now looked over at his castmate.
"Sorry, I don't mean it that way," Zachary found himself apologising again. "God, first I hurt you and now I offend you." He scrubbed his hands over his face (careful to avoid his eyebrows) in dismay. And he could kick himself, because he couldn't stand when people would say how gay so-and-so looked or acted. Yet there he was, inadvertently implying his friend seemed too straight to possibly be interested in men.
"I'm not at all offended," Benedict assured him before he could beat himself up further, and reached with his free hand to bump Zachary's leg, causing the other man to look at him. "And I like whom I like. I guess I haven't really given it close consideration beyond that."
Zachary nodded in understanding, feeling immensely grateful that Benedict was being so gracious with him despite his blundering. "As long as you're happy, that's all that really matters."
"I am happy," Benedict offered softly, sincerely, "right here, right now."
Zachary glanced uncertainly between Benedict's face and outstretched hand, then tentatively reached to meet him halfway, letting their fingertips brush, for the moment forgetting there could be (likely were) people watching their private moment unfold. Benedict smiled up at him, taking his hand and giving a tug, which Zachary interpreted as an invitation to join him in the grass. He did so, hoping he didn't look too silly as he flopped backwards, and laughing a little to himself when he felt Benedict squeeze his hand.
"Me too," Zachary said.
"So about that date..."
"Do you really want to? Make it a date, I mean."
"There's nothing I'd like more," Benedict replied, and when their eyes met, he could see his joy mirrored in Zachary's expression.