Work Text:
“Hold your horses there, Noah,”
The Indian hums, turning back to face the familiar TV host as he squeezes the parachute tightly in his grasp. He could feel the fabric rubbing on his skin, the sweat dripping down his forehead, and even the thumping of his heart as he stood only a few feet away from the “Drop Of Shame”. Being kilometres in the air, he's just sure that he could get killed on impact if Mclean mixed up the intern parachutes with theirs again.
The amount of times they mixed up supplies when he was an assistant was insane.
“What do you want?” He asks flatly. “Are you going to rub it in my face? Give me a little boost going down?” Chris just chuckles, walking over to the open “Drop Of Shame” door and slamming it shut just seconds later.
“Oh, goodness gracious, no ,” Chris smirks, snatching the parachute from Noah’s hands as a camera circles in on the two. “How could I keep running the show without my trusty assistant ?” He hums. Noah could feel his blood run cold- well, that was an overstatement, however he was sure he’d be dead by the end of this season of Total Drama, one way or another. Whenever he’s finished with all he paperwork, he just knows he’ll be the one wrangling bears and other dangerous animals once more.
“You have enough interns, Mclean,” he spits out, glaring up at the man. He can’t be serious, can he? Didn’t his contract expire the second the host fired him at the Gemmy awards back in Celebrity Manhunt? He takes a step back, hearing his shoes click against the metal floor underneath him. No amount of money would make him sane enough to want to be Chris’s assistant once more. “You don’t need me to stay- if anything, you probably just want some sort of stupid drama from me staying on the plane .”
Chris cackles approvingly.
“You know me too well, know-it-all,” he throws the parachute off to the side, some poor intern being crushed under the weight. “However, this is a last-minute decision, not only for the ratings, but because I've thrown too many interns off the plane and the rest can’t pick up the slack,” Chris waves him off. “Now get your behind into the cockpit, I have many assignments waiting for you already.”
You’re kidding.
----------
It wasn’t even a full week later that Noah found himself in the first-class kitchen, stained papers and binders stacked atop the counter haphazardly, ready to spill and cover the floor in black and blue pen ink. A cup full of leaking gel pens was placed next to him, a pool of ink forming at the bottom and staining the cup inside-out from the sheer grip he’s been writing with. He’s snapped so many cartridges he couldn’t even be bothered to count.
Noah’s face laid in his hands, eyes tired and his arms very much weak. He could feel his eyelids droop, just barely catching himself in time. Oh boy, he did not miss this at all. It didn’t exactly help that he didn’t have his own area to do all this work- it was either the scummy, disgusting intern room, Chef and Chris’s areas or first class- and unfortunately first class sounded like the best option, even with all the competitors taking up space here.
“No, no, we need you to drop her off at Niagara Falls-” Noah dejectedly sighs, holding his phone to his ear tightly. He slowly blinks, resisting the urge to yawn. “The episodes will be called ‘Niagara Brawls’ for a reason- bring her in to the casino building and put her under the stage, she’ll need to introduce herself with a musical number,” he adds, using his free hand to write down notes in Chris’s ‘World Tour’ notebook. “If she has any allergies, let me know- the food challenge is on the horizon in the next few weeks, and we need to know how to torture the contestants without giving them anaphylaxis.”
Episode 19-
Niagara Brawls
Blainley introduced via a song
Merge
Get all girl’s measurements for wedding dresses
Refer to in depth notebook
Expenses + fees + travel =
He sighs. These are such pathetic notes. He couldn’t exactly write the entire episode plan when there are contestants wandering around the plane with little restriction.
“Thanks, Geoff, I’ll let his Royal Pain know episodes sixteen to nineteen are all fine and planned.” he let Geoff say his goodbyes and final messages before he hangs up. Lord, he hates communicating with the Aftermath show. Why can’t he just be down there with the rest of the group? He could very easily fix up all the bullshit that their management does not care about and bring in more funds to make Mclean not as annoying!
Noah was just so bored! He can’t even do his own thing til merge is recorded.
“Noah!”
Noah flinches, slamming the notebook shut.
“Mi amigo!”
He groaned, turning to look over at the doorway, scowling as he does so. He narrows his eyes, turning back only seconds later.
“Go away,” he reaches over and grabs a stack of files, looking as if he’s trying to find something just so he could ignore that stupidly handsome man. He glares down at the folder he places on his lap, reading through the front cover to make sure he can even open it in the presence of Eel-ejandro.
“That is not how you talk to friends, Noah,” Alejandro steps closer, leaning over the counter as he looks the boy up and down. He smirks, not even sparing a glance to look at the work on the counter. “You’ve been working here for quite a while, you should take a break, hm?” Noah just ignores him and rolls his eyes, flicking through the binder to take out an empty costs sheet- Mclean would kill him if he didn't figure out the money before they reach Australia. “Come on.”
“Not interested,” Noah responds. “I want to get out of this plane and into Aftermath as soon as possible,” he taps his phone screen, which was sitting on the counter. He opens up the calculator app and quickly grabs a pen. He could feel a large, warm hand sit on his shoulder, gently squeezing it. Noah couldn’t bring himself to care. He could feel his stomach flutter, and his heart rate pick up just slightly. He ignores it.
Alejandro reaches down, tucking a few stray hairs behind Noah’s ear.
“Precioso,” he mutters with a smile. Noah blows his hair back as it falls down his face. Noah bites the inside of his cheek, though he’s unsure if it's with joy or anger.
“You know I don’t know Spanish,” he writes down a few random numbers. Legally, he can’t actually work on any expenses near interns or competitors, but Alejandro doesn’t know he’s bullshitting, so it's fine.
“Don’t you worry your pretty head about it,” Alejandro mumbles, pushing Noah’s hair back. He lets it run through his fingers.
Noah just stares at the paper.
“You know, I actually came in here for a reason,” Noah doesn’t dare respond. He’s just over it, just completely over the drama of this show and over all the conflict he's gotten himself into in London. That won't stop his attitude, however, nor his nicknames. “I wanted to talk to you about your elimination from the show,” Alejandro gently grabs onto Noah’s chin, tilting the boy’s head up and over in his direction. “And how sorry I am, for acting so rash in my decision.”
Noah just stared at him, scanning for any sighting of manipulation. He eyes the man with a small hum.
“I’ll help in your torture, now, so fair is fair,” he mutters. “The bear that got Duncan in Greece was wrangled by me,” he confesses. Alejandro laughs.
“And what a great job you did, amigo,” Noah goes to turn his head once more, but is stopped. Alejandro halts for a moment, just letter out a content sigh. “I miss your quips and presence in the team,” he admits. “I became angry at the moment, and i shouldn't’ve let it get in the way of my plans,” he leans forward slightly. “I apologise, deeply. I enjoyed our talks.”
Noah stares at the Latino. He could feel his face start heating up, though he's unsure if Alejandro would notice.
“Apology accepted.” Though it still stung a bit, he let himself forgive the man. He was asking for it, really, by openly smack-talking him. “The stress of the game gets to everyone, even the viewers,” he adds, glancing away for a split second. Before he could look back, he could feel a pair of warm lips press against the corner of his mouth.
“I knew you’d understand. You’ve always been amazing at that, you know?” Noah nervously tugs at one of his many shirts, just blinking in surprise. Alejandro let the teen go, looking down at his own feet with a soft smile, sitting on the counter. Noah stood up, moving away a stack of papers to the side to make space. “I feel horrible for what I’ve done,” Alejandro admits. “… For once,” he adds with a chuckle. Noah shrugs.
“It's fine, really,” he rubs his eye and takes a deep breath. Boy, is he tired. “I’m a bit salty, but it's not a big deal ‘cause I still get paid for something ,” He clears his throat uncomfortably. Did it just get a bit stuffy in here?
He looks over Alejandro from head to toe, rubbing the back of his neck as his heart thumped in his chest loudly.
“I suppose you’re right, but it was still… scummy of me,” Alejandro glances back over at the shorter boy. Noah flatly smiles.
“You’re all fine by me,” he says, standing next to the Latino. Alejandro wraps his arm around the boy’s shoulders, bringing him closer. Noah rests his head on Alejandro’s shoulder silently.
“This can’t air, si?” Noah hums in confirmation. God, no. Mclean would have all the plans leaked if a camera was anywhere near all this paperwork. Alejandro goes quiet for a second before pressing his lips to Noah’s skin once more, planting a kiss on his forehead. “We must talk once the competition is over,” he says.
“Wouldn’t be against it,” Noah hums, letting himself relax for a moment. He looks up, staring at the taller as hey quiet down.
“You don’t kiss all your friends, do you?” he asks with a small laugh. Alejandro chuckles, face reddening a little bit. It was a very slight change, but Noah could catch it easy.
“No,” Alejandro looks down, his smile crooked. Noah smirks.
“I’ll give you my number after you lose the finals,” he digs. Alejandro lightly glares, but his smile doesn't falter.
“Care to tell me what it is?”
“I’ll pass.”