Chapter Text
Colt
Colt frowned at the slender frame of the new stunt-driver. He had to be some sort of hot-shot, with that face and that body. He should be the lead actor, not the stuntman. Colt could do the car stunts, but Jody insisted he didn't. She was overprotective, terrified after the shit he pulled with the helicopter.
"Who's he?" he asked, taking a swig from the plastic bottle of water pressed into his hands. Metalstorm was bigger than either of them could have ever anticipated, and got them the ability to make whatever they wanted. Their current project was some sort of action thriller that Jody was co-producing with Dan.
Jody shrugged. "Dunno." She took the bottle of water and sipped from it. "Some sort of driving prodigy. Absolutely stellar record, I hear."
Colt took the bottle back, taking yet another drink. It was hot on set today, the Arizona sun beating down on them relentlessly. He watched as the sleek form of the driver slip into one of their cars, wearing a jacket and leather gloves, even in this weather. He had steel-blue eyes, a still face, and an air of focus around him that made Colt wonder about his past.
"Can I have some more?" Jody asked, grabbing at the plastic bottle again. Colt handed it to her, eyes fixated on the driver.
"Watching the show?" Dan asked, appearing behind them and slinging both of his arms around their shoulders, coming between them—much to Colt's annoyance. Dan was deeply appreciative of their relationship, calling himself their "biggest shipper".
Colt eyed him. "Do you know who this guy is?" he asked, gesturing over to the car, which was going through final safety checks. The script called for a high-speed car chase, in which the film's star would drive a stolen car across a lifting bridge as it was raising. Colt knew there was a proper word for bridges that split in the middle to let boats pass beneath them, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember it.
Dan shook his head. "Nah, haven't talked to him yet."
"I thought you hired the stunt guys, though?" Colt asked, wriggling out of Dan's grasp and moving behind him to stand next to Jody again.
"Not for this one," Dan replied. "I have to focus on writing."
"You mean, I write it, you tell me it's bad and suggest a 'cooler' idea that doesn't fit thematically?" Jody asked incredulously.
Colt snorted, and was about to say something before a loud burst of an engine made them all look up. They had use of a ramp that the props and environment directors had made look like it needed to for the shot. Colt had no idea how they managed it. Must be magic.
Jody held his arm as the driver revved the engine again, tapping his fingers on the wheel.
Colt watched, breath held.
The director gave a shout, and without a moment's hesitation, the car shot off, wheels squealing. Colt, Jody, and Dan all leaned forward to watch as the car picked up speed, exhaust popping. He didn't even slow down as he approached the ramp, no hesitation at all. Then, the car climbed the ramp and was launched into the sky, disappearing over the edge.
"Am I crazy or was that, like, really hot?" Jody whispered to him. Colt glanced at her and then again at the empty space where the car had just been.
"Yeah," he breathed. He didn't wait for a reply. He ditched Jody and Dan to jump onto the back of the follow car. He wanted to see the aftermath of the stunt. He wanted to see the driver, what sort of person he was. He wondered if the driver was as obsessed with doing stupid adrenaline junkie bullshit he was.
The other side of the ramp was already crowded with the professionals who were there in preparation, ready to tend to the driver if anything went wrong.
Colt squinted at the scene, mouth falling open.
The car was spotless. The driver had somehow landed the car perfectly. A hand fell out the window with a thumbs-up. Colt grinned. Stuntman solidarity. He hopped out of the car, standing away from the group a little, not wanting to get in the way.
The door opened and out came the form of that jacketed driver, and Colt realised he was wearing jeans. The desert sun had Colt sweating in his tank top and shorts, and here was this stuntman in a jacket and jeans and leather gloves. Just the idea of it made Colt feel sticky.
He was immediately swarmed by people with towels, water, and ice. He turned most of them down, but took the towel, wiping his brow. He slung it over one shoulder and said something quietly to the crowd and slipped away. He had a bit of a swagger to his walk, a comfortable sort of movement. This was his element.
Colt watched him. He wasn't walking in Colt's direction, more perpendicular, but Colt decided to follow him anyway.
"Hey!" Colt called, catching up with a soft jog.
The driver turned around, stopping. He had a soft sort of face, at war with his sharp nose and intense eyes. He didn't say anything, just watched Colt with a sort of disinterested fascination.
"Hey," Colt said again, slowing to a stop. He extended his hand. "I don't think we've met."
The driver took his hand and shook it. His grip was firm beneath the leather.
Colt smiled awkwardly. "I'm Colt. Seavers. Colt Seavers."
The driver nodded.
Colt fixed him with a questioning look. "What's your name?"
The driver shrugged. "Just call me Driver," he said. His voice was quiet, gentle, but had a strength to it Colt wasn't expecting.
Colt raised an eyebrow, but didn't press it. He let go of Driver's hand, stuffing it into the pocket of his shorts. "Aren't you hot in that?" he asked, gesturing to Driver's outfit.
He shrugged.
Colt scratched the back of his neck. Did the guy just not like him? Had he done something wrong? Being weird? Was it really that obvious that he liked him? "So, you're a stuntman, right?"
Driver shifted. "I drive."
"Just driving?" Colt asked. "Nothing else? No crashing through windows, no fistfights?"
Driver shook his head. "No."
Colt whistled. "You must be pretty good at it, then?"
The corner of Driver's mouth twitched softly, a quirk of a smile. He looked down at the floor, kicking at a stray pebble.
"Look, uh," Colt said awkwardly. "Me and the crew are going out for drinks after, do you want to come?"
Driver looked up at him. He shrugged.
"It's fine if you're like, busy or whatever, but it'd be cool if you could. You're cool." Colt meant that. He really did. He liked the posture of him, the way he held himself.
⟡-⟡-⟡-⟡
Jody
She pointed with the nearly-empty plastic water bottle. "Look at him," she said.
Dan leaned over her shoulder and peered at where she was pointing. "Colt?"
Jody nodded. "He's totally obsessed with this new guy," she mused. Something about Colt being into Driver filled her with an emotion she wasn't expecting. She expected to feel jealousy, vindication, anger, anything like that. Instead it filled her with a giddy little coil of butterflies.
"Are you serious?" Dan asked. "I don't think Colt swings that way."
Jody snorted. "Dan," she said, not taking her eyes off the clearly awkward conversation Colt was running himself into. "He was into theatre as a kid. Of course he does."
Dan squinted at her. "Really?"
Jody nodded. She drank the last bits of Colt's water and tossed the empty bottle into a nearby trash can. She laughed as Colt scratched his neck awkwardly. "Oh God, I have to go save him, right?" she asked.
Dan snickered. "Which one?"
Jody didn't answer, just started walking towards Colt and the driver.
"Hey," she said, slinking an arm around Colt's waist and giving him a squeeze.
The driver dipped his head at her.
"Jody!" Colt grinned at her. "Driver, this is Jody, my fiancée, Jody, this is Driver," he said, waving a hand between them as an introductory action.
"Your name is Driver?" Jody asked, leaning in a little. Now that she was closer, she could see him clearly. God, he really did have an enthralling way of holding himself.
"Isn't that cool?" Colt added. "He's a guy named Driver who drives."
Jody smiled. "Must be fate." She gave Colt's waist a little squeeze again. "I assume you've been invited to drinks?"
Driver nodded.
"Great!" Jody tugged at Colt's side. "Well, we won't keep you, I'm sure you've got things to do," she said, starting to walk away. Colt followed, waving a hand at Driver. He slipped his other hand into Jody's as she dragged him back to the producer's tent.
Colt leaned in once they were out of earshot. "I really like him."
Jody squeezed his hand. "I know you do."
They were in Jody's trailer. She was in his lap, nosing down his neck. His hands were slipping beneath her shirt. She loved this; having Colt under her, holding him tightly, relishing in every little sound he made as she grazed her teeth across the tender skin of his neck. The way he grabbed fervently at her skin, her clothes, her hair.
A thought came into her mind, and she paused.
"What?" Colt asked, frowning at her in that concerned, sweet way he did.
"I was just thinking about Driver," she said, before realising how weird that sounded.
"You were thinking about another man while kissing me?" Colt asked in mock offence.
Jody snorted and rested her head on his shoulder. "No, not like that," she placated, holding Colt's face in her hands. She wouldn't mind leaving bite marks on Driver's neck, though. She hummed thoughtfully. "Do you like him? Like that?" she asked.
Colt flushed more than he already was. He pursed his lips, looking away.
Jody pulled his face back to hers. "Hey," she said, tracing a thumb over his lips. "I'm not sure how to say this," she started, nervous. That little giddy coil of butterflies flew faster. "So I'm just gonna say it the weird way. I don't mind if you want to be with him," she said.
"Like an open relationship?" Colt asked, confused.
She shook her head. "No. Just him. And I'd like if you shared him, sometimes?" she asked tentatively.
Colt exhaled. He buried his face in her chest. "So you're, what, giving me your blessing? To go after a guy?" He asked, muffled by her clothes.
Jody laughed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Only if you share him."
Colt looked up at her. "So he'd be our third?" he asked, embarrassed.
"Sure." Jody shrugged, though she winced at the wording. "It's enrichment. For you."
"And you."
Jody laughed again. "Come here," she commanded, and kissed him again.
⟡-⟡-⟡-⟡
Colt
He craned his neck over the set. The sun was lowering, just grazing the horizon as the crew packed up for the day. Colt was aching all over, a day's worth of shattering windows and falling down stairs had taken its toll. But in spite of that, he was buzzing. Something about Jody's encouragement of him going after the new, mysterious stunt driver had prickles going all up his arms and legs, trickling down his spine.
He made his way over to the stunts tent, craning his neck, searching for Driver.
He got the attention of one of the coordinators. "Hey, where's Driver?"
"Driver?"
"The tall blond guy who jumped the car earlier?" Colt prompted. "Sort of mysterious?"
The coordinator blinked. "I don't know. I think he's in the dressing room," she explained.
The dressing room wasn't a room, exactly. It was a tent set up nearby one of the bigger sets in the production. Colt turned on his heel and made his way over at a pace definitely faster than he needed to. But in the end, he was thankful, because he caught Driver just as he was leaving.
"Hey," he called, catching up.
It was just like before, with Driver stopping and turning around with that relaxed but intense face if his.
"We're going for drinks now, if you want to come?"
Driver checked his watch.
"Like, it's fine if you don't want to." Colt assured him. "If you've got—plans, or something."
Driver shook his head. "I'll come."
Internally, Colt celebrated. He jumped for joy. He cheered. He set off confetti. Balloons. Trumpet fanfare. The whole thing. Externally, he just grinned widely. "Great! Awesome."
Driver dipped his head. "Wanna ride with me and Jodes?" he asked.
Driver shrugged, and Colt couldn't tell if he was awkward or deliberately mysterious. He took the shrug as a 'yes' and beckoned Jody over. She was in the production tent, but hurried over. She slipped her hand around Colt's waist and smiled at Driver. "Let's go."
Colt and Jody regaled Driver with tales of production mishaps and prop switch-ups all the way to the bar and didn't stop even while they were inside. They found a booth to sit at, Jody piling in after Colt and Driver sitting across from them. He barely reacted at all. He was like a really attractive wall. Colt was mesmerised, examining every inch of Driver's face, spending far too much time staring at his lips.
Jody's hand squeezed his thigh to get his attention as their drinks arrived. Colt was unfathomably basic, just a little beer, but he and Jody decided to share her spicy margaritas. It was a bit of a tradition now, a promise. Driver ordered a water. Just a water. The waiter asked if he wanted anything in it, maybe a lemon, or ice? He didn't.
"So," Colt started. Beside him, Jody sipped at her margarita. "How'd you get into stunts?"
Driver lifted his glass and took a drink. He watched Colt as he did, holding eye contact as he swallowed. He took a breath. "A guy I used to know thought I'd be good at it."
Jody spoke. "He was right," she commented. "You were good out there today."
"You were amazing," Colt breathed over a stolen sip of margarita.
Driver averted his eyes. A smile toyed with his lips, and he dipped his chin to his chest.
"Seriously," Colt added. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone as good behind the wheel as you are."
"Oh, don't sell yourself short, Colt," Jody said, nudging him with her shoulder. "You're pretty good yourself. Remember that crazy jump you did with Ryder in the car?"
Colt rolled his eyes and took a long swig of his beer. It was watery and the ice was just melted enough for it to make its way into his mouth if he wasn't careful. He didn't want to think about Tom Ryder.
Driver leaned in. "Jump?" he asked, voice stilted, clear, saying only what he needed to.
"It was so stupid," Colt said, rubbing his jaw and staring up at the ceiling. "I was pissed."
"You had every right to be," Jody reasoned. "Ryder's a dick."
Colt sighed, stole another sip of Jody's spicy margarita. "Let's not talk about it. Driver," he said, fixing his gaze on the man. "What's your life outside of stunts? Got a family? Girlfriend?"
Driver fiddled with the rim of his glass, tracing a finger around the top as he swallowed, thought about it. Driver didn't say anything. He just shook his head.
Colt sobered a little. Driver must be lonely.
"I guess that just means you get more time to do what you love, right?" Jody asked, saving the unwieldy silence. She had tact like that, an ability to weave out of awkwardness. It was one of the things Colt loved most about her. He loved all that she was, every bit of her, including her sweet little accent.
Driver nodded.
Colt grinned. "So your thing is cars, right? Is that just for stunts or…?"
"I used to work in an auto shop," Driver said, quicker and a little louder than he had before. Colt recognised the reaction, because he did it too. When someone asked about something he liked, he'd just talk and talk and talk. For Driver, though, it seemed like his normal clipped and stilted speech smoothened out, relaxed a little.
Jody spoke up. "Hey, I'm just gonna go say hi to Dan." She nudged her head in the direction of him, sitting at the bar. She kissed Colt chastely, and then disappeared over in Dan's direction.
Colt watched her go, wide grin plastered across his face. "She's amazing," he told Driver, watching her sit on the stool next to Dan.
Driver nodded. He took another drink out of his glass.
"Hey, do you wanna go get some air?" Colt asked. "It's getting stuffy in here."
Driver nodded, and Colt thought he saw a flicker of relief on the man's face.
Colt relished in the cool night air, sighing deeply. Driver walked slightly behind him, staring at the pavement below. Colt walked slowly, barely a crawl, glancing backwards every few seconds to make sure Driver was still there.
"You know," Colt started, stopping on a corner under a yellow street lamp. "You could come back with me to my hotel tonight," he said.
Driver's head snapped up, eyes fixing on Colt, searching, reading.
"It's not a problem," Colt reassured him. "Like, at all. I know the crew trucks are terrible and the beds are rickety, so—you're welcome to crash on my couch."
Driver fiddled with the watch on his wrist. He glanced down at it, then behind him, then behind Colt, and finally back up to his face. "I can't."
Colt's heart sank. "Why not?"
"There's something I have to take care of," Driver said quietly. He looked behind himself again, furtive, like he was waiting for a terrible thing to happen. "I…" he paused, pursing his lips.
"No, it's fine," Colt said. "You have business, and that's none of my business, so…" he trailed off, watching Driver. "But the invitation still stands. It doesn't have to be tonight, or tomorrow." He handed Driver a little scrap of paper he'd written the hotel's address on. "Here. This is where I'm staying."
Driver took it and pocketed it.
Colt smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "Do you want to go back inside now?"
Driver checked his watch. Again. He looked up. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then, he took Colt's wrist in his, and leaned in to kiss him.
Fanfare and confetti went off inside Colt's head once again as he wrapped his fingers through Driver's belt loops and pulled him in. Driver's lips moved slowly against Colt's, tender, soft, gentle. He tasted slightly sweet, but mostly of tap water. It was then that Colt noticed that Driver was just half an inch taller than him. Colt wasn't short, not by any means, but he had a wider and thicker build than Driver did, who was all limbs and elbows. God, Colt thought as he caught just the slightest whisker of Driver's tongue across his lips. Colt was just about to start wrapping his arms around Driver, pulling him closer, when he stopped and stepped backwards a little.
Colt blinked at him, fingers still in his belt loops. "Driver?"
Driver reached down and disentangled Colt's fingers from his jeans. "I'm sorry."
"No, don't be sorry," Colt said, stepping closer, reaching out, but Driver only moved back, out of his grasp. "Hey, it's okay."
Driver shook his head. "I have to go."
"Wait—"
But Driver was already jogging away, and Colt was too stunned to follow.
He sat back down with a sigh. The booth was still empty, discarded glasses on the table. He toyed with Driver's abandoned glass of water morosely.
Jody plopped down next to him. "Where is he?" She asked, craning her neck, looking around the bar for a glimpse of him.
Colt slumped onto the table and groaned.