Work Text:
Most of the time, the two sides of Dead Bird Studios kept very separate for good reason-- for one, Conductor's brash nature had kept DJ Grooves from ever wanting to wake up to the yelling and train sounds on the other half, and on the other hand, DJ Grooves' music was loud enough for Conductor to endlessly complain about it, never noticing that with each complaint, Grooves turned the volume up by one more notch on the amplifier’s dials. Frankly, the competition between them didn't help the relationship between the two directors either, so with each passing year, the divide and animosity grew.
It was no wonder that when Grooves made a list of people he was afraid to come out to, he put Conductor in the second spot, only preceded by his parents. Given how far away he lived from his parents, Conductor was the most likely problem point. While he could easily just ignore letters and phone calls, Conductor’s presence and Dead Bird Studios were inextricable.
He stood in the doorway of one of the latest sets, watching as Conductor yelled at one of his actors for the thousandth time that day. The clock ticked to five, and the owls quickly broke character to point that out to him. Despite his obvious irritation, Conductor relented, shooing them away. Most hurried past DJ Grooves, giving him waves and quick greetings as they passed, while a few boarded the train again, ready for the late train to the next station.
“Darling?” Grooves called once they were gone. Conductor groaned, loud enough for him to hear from yards away.
“What is it NOW, Grooves? Some of us got filmin’ ta do…”
“I have something important to talk to you about.”
“Alright. So say it.”
“I-- Listen, it’s private, I can’t say it here…” He glanced at the cameras that Conductor was still turning off, then pushed his sunglasses up his beak. “We should take this to your office, or mine.”
“If yer tryin’ ta tell me that yer quitting the industry, just say it here. I’ll celebrate later, when I’m not annoyed at the owls.”
“It’s not. You should know better than that.”
“Eh, I can hope.” Conductor finished messing with the cameras, and turned to him. “There. Off ta me office, then?”
“That would be helpful.”
Conductor led the way there, though he gathered the paper cups from the crew and tossed them in the trashcan on his way as well. The way to the office was mostly quiet, with Grooves very grateful for Conductor’s fast walking speed. By the time they were there, he could already feel himself sweating with nerves.
“So. What’s so important yeh had ta get me away from me work fer it?”
“Well.” Grooves shut the door as Conductor sat down, taking the chair across from him at the desk. Despite the typewriter between them, Conductor kept focused, although his hands played across the keys, ready to get to work once again. “You and I have known each other for a long time.”
“If yer proposin’, then dinnae ferget, I’ve got a wife.” Conductor pointed to his foot and the red wedding band still there. Grooves flushed, and waved his flippers awkwardly to try to clear the air of awkwardness.
“Wh- No! No, no, not that, darling! I’m gay!”
The silence between them was long, as Grooves awkwardly shifted.
“...Wait, that’s it? Yeh needed ta come ta me office ta tell me that?”
“I knew that you’d make a scene out of it--”
“Nah. Dinnae say that. Just dinnae get why it’s a big deal.”
“Because some birds are old-fashioned about this, darling.”
Conductor just shrugged. “Tell ‘em ta peck off then.”
“I-- I can’t do that!”
“I can. Peck off, Grooves. I’ve got work ta do.” He returned to his typewriter, hammering the keys to get them to actually type.
“...So you’re not going to be…”
“Nah.”
“Okay. Alright. Guess that means I have to try the other option for the worst case scenario…” Grooves paused. “Actually.”
“What is it now, Grooves?”
“Since you’re much better than me at that, and I still have to call my parents to tell them-- Could I call them here? If they’re rude, you can swear at them as much as you want.”
“...I’d swear at ‘em anyway.”
“And I’ll buy you dinner.”
“Deal!”
Grooves took out his phone, calling back home. It took a while for his mom to pick up, but pick up she did.
“Who is this?”
“It’s, uh… It’s Gray.” Grooves glanced at Conductor, who was pointedly acting like he hadn’t noticed the name change. (Understandably so-- He was certain that Conductor was a stage name too, and he was in no way going to ask for his “real” name.) “I thought I should--”
“It’s about time you called. You should come home for the holidays, Gray. Your father’s been keeping a position available in the company for you.”
“Mother, I’m not calling about that--”
“Well, you should be. It’s been fifteen years of this movie nonsense. After this, after that club you had? Give it up, Gray.”
He shrank in his chair, his shoulders coming forward to help hide his face.
“I’m calling to--”
“Besides, there’s still that lovely young woman your father was going to set you up with. Luna, I think? She’s doing quite well in the business, you could stand to be more like her.”
“I’m gay, Mother.” He managed, quickly putting the phone on speakerphone before he had to hear the response. Even Conductor jumped when she started yelling.
“Gray, you come home this instant! Whatever rubbish you’ve been filling your head with, it’s time this stops! If you’re not going to come home, then your father and I will be coming down to that planet of yours and coming to that silly studio of yours--”
“Oh, peck off!” Conductor exclaimed, loud enough to stop her. “Silly? Rubbish? This man has been makin’ his own life here, yeh whiny peckneck! Ain’t that what every parent wants fer their kids-- fer them ta find somethin’ they love, ta change the world fer the better? That’s what he’s done! He’s a peckin’ award-winnin’ director!”
“Who’s there? Gray, who is this foul-mouthed--”
“He’s my partner!” Grooves answered without thought. Conductor didn’t miss a beat.
“Yeah! He’s my peckin’ boyfriend, yeh peckneck, so if yeh think yer gonna get away with takin’ him from the people who love him, yer wrong!”
For an instant, his mother was silent, shocked by the two on the other end of the phone.
“...Gray, if you’re being serious right now, then you’re cutting off contact with two very powerful people here. You’d better think twice before--”
“Yer threatenin’ him? Yeh know he’s a director. There’s peckin’ cameras, if yeh do anythin’ then it’s obvious it’s you.” Conductor shook his head. “B’sides, how’re yeh gonna get here? The train? As if the conductor’ll let yeh get on, after this one.”
“Goodbye, mother,” Grooves said, his confidence returning with Conductor on his side. “If you change your mind, maybe then we can talk again, but for now… Goodbye. I won’t miss you.”
He hung up on her as she started talking again, and sighed, pushing his flipper through his wig.
“Yeh doin’ alright, Grooves?”
“...With your help, yes. Sorry about putting you on the spot like that, darling.”
“Dinnae worry. I peckin’ hate when people think that their family can be treated like that. About that dinner--”
“I can take you out for it now?”
“I was gonna say nae ta worry.” Conductor looked back at his typewriter, writing a few more words. “Yeh got enough on yer plate.”
“I promised. I’m still going to get you something, at least.”
“Alrigh’, cannae stop yeh. Just get me a sandwich at some point. Peanut butter and jelly, if yeh dinnae mind, Grooves.”
“Thank you, Conductor.” Grooves stood, and he pushed in his chair. “You’re a great fake boyfriend.”
“Anytime.”
He left the office, closing the door behind himself, and smiled. Even in the worst of times, it was clear that Conductor still had his back.