Work Text:
1984
Hotel room, cigarette smoke, watery lamp light.
"Couldn't a big star like you pick a better hotel?"
"Waste not, want not," was the mirthful reply.
"Hand me another, will you?"
Jostling, he fishes a cigarette out of the pack, hands it to the shorter man in bed beside him.
"So."
"So?" Puffs, exhales the smoke.
"I hear you went to one of the ARMS shows."
Sidelong glance. "I did."
"And?"
"He's still using. Looked better, though. Happier. He has people helping him." Another drag off the cig. "Why, Phil. Are you jealous?"
"Not bloody likely. Just worry over you."
"Me?"
"He could drag you down after you've worked so hard to get what you have. He's a right bastard."
Robert laughs. "Not just a bastard, a right bastard." After a moment, he sobers. "You don't know him like I do."
"I should say not."
"Oh God," Robert laughs again. "You'd so shag him. Admit it. Disgruntled Jimmy groupie."
"Am not, I'm a Robert Plant groupie."
Both men laugh.
"So, you wouldn't fill in for Zeppelin if I asked you to?"
"Wot, if hell froze over and the great, stiff necked Robert Plant agreed to such a thing? I dunno, if you keep looking at me like that, maybe."
"Like what?"
"Like I'm the only thing in the universe. Fuck, you're intense."
Robert stubs out the cigarette. "Really. Well. Ready for round two?"