"Goddammit!" Peter screamed, throwing a script across the room. It hit the wall and cascaded down, paper floating through the air. "What do you mean he's not coming in?"
"He called and said something about caterers," his receptionist said coolly, well used to Peter Dragon's temper tantrums as she shut the door.
Peter swore and looked through his Rolodex frantically.
"Peter? You ready?" Lonnie asked, peering into the opulent office and shaking his head over the mess.
"No, Uncle Lonnie, I am not ready," Peter said fairly calmly. "I have to find Stuart's phone number. He thinks he's taking off today."
"Yeah. But see, Uncle Lonnie, he's not. I need him here with me." With a cry of triumph, Peter waved a card in the air.
Lonnie shook his head and shut the door.
As Peter started to pick up the phone to call the number he'd scribbled on the card, he paused, trying to think of what to say. Deciding the direct approach was best, he dialed the phone.
"Hello?" Stuart asked, sounding cautious.
"Where in the hell are you? Picking out a goddamn dress? This isn't one of those times when you can just take off when you please," Peter said angrily.
"A dress? What are you talking about?" Stuart said. "Look, I've got like four weeks of paid sick and personal days."
"Well, I'll take them away. You've got none now," Peter smirked.
"You can't do that!" Stuart stammered.
"I can do anything I want! I'm Peter - god, my chest hurts," Peter muttered, holding his chest.
He closed his eyes against the sharp pain that seemed to reverberate through his body.
"Peter? Are you okay?" Stuart's worried voice cut through the pain, and he shook his head before dropping the phone and passing out, slipping out of his thousand-dollar desk chair to the floor below.
As consciousness came slowly, Peter struggled to open his eyes. He could just make out a silhouette standing over him and barely distinguish the sound of voices. This weird 'fuzzy' feeling, that actually felt pretty damned good if it hadn't been for the sumo wrestler sitting on his chest, surrounded everything.
"Stuart?" Peter slurred as the shape of a man standing over him drifted into focus.
"Shit!" a voice hissed, "He's alive."
The vision cleared and Peter shook his head, "Cole Riccardi?" he gasped, "Oh no, I'm in hell and it's full of fucking actors... I knew it!"
"Nice to see you too, Peter!" Cole grinned.
"He's just taking a break, he's been sitting here waiting for you to get up off your miserable, selfish ass for twelve hours now."
"And what are you doing here, holding his hand?" Peter spat venomously.
"No, I just dropped in to pull the plug on your ventilator, but damn it, they'd taken you off it already."
"Choke and die, Cole."
"You first, sweet thing," Cole smirked tapping the intravenous drip attached to Peter's arm.
"What the hell happened to me?" Peter asked as the discomfort and aches suddenly settled into his body with a vengeance.
"I think you had a bile overload, I hear it's common among Hollywood producers. Or maybe you just had a little too much 'frog' this time?"
"Who the fuck let you in here anyway?" Peter grumbled at the actors less than sympathetic attitude, "Someone who wants me dead?"
"You mean there are other kinds of people?" Cole asked innocently. He crossed his arms and stared down at Peter with menace, "Lets just get something straight here, Stuart is coming to work for me. He's tired of being treated like a dog by you and I can give him everything you can't."
"Like a job, a home, career prospects...love."
"He loves me," Peter snarled.
"And you're straight, remember Peter? Or has that little conversation we had just after my announcement slipped your mind? You remember, the one with lots of 'lawyer' talk in it and all those 'I can show you how straight I am' gestures. I seem to remember you saying that you could watch a naked Leonardo DiCaprio jerk off in front of you and feel nothing!"
"Oh gimme a break, I'd get more sexual stimulation watching Ethel Merman perform oral sex on Tarzan's monkey!"
"That was seriously over-rated."
"Ah, Mr Dragon, you're awake," a female voice broke the tension suddenly.
"I'm dying here, lady, and someone let a fucking actor in the building!" Peter complained.
The nurse suddenly pushed Cole to one side and began to unhook Peter from the medication.
"What are you doing? That's life-saving medication and you're taking it away?"
"Mr Dragon, you had a panic attack and the doctor discovered that you were suffering from exhaustion, stress and slightly dehydrated. So he knocked you out and put you on something to re-hydrate you...no big deal."
"'No big deal'? I almost die and its no big deal?"
The woman straightened up and peered over her glasses, "You were never in any danger, Mr Dragon."
"And you'd know this? You being a...a what? A fucking nurse?"
The woman's face creased into a smile, "Yes Mister Dragon, me being just a humble nurse. The same humble nurse who has to give you a shot now, please turn over!"
"Oh goody can I watch?" Cole sniggered.
Glancing up and down the big actor a couple of times, the woman sighed, "Well, you're not exactly family, but you are famous, so I guess that'll do for me!"
"What is this, a fucking show?" Peter snapped as he turned onto his stomach.
Suddenly the stinging slap on his naked ass almost made him bounce off the bed, then what felt like a fence prop was jabbed into his tender ass cheek, followed by yet another slap.
The yells echoed through the corridors of the plush Bel Air hospital.
"Can I have a go at that?" Cole asked with glee.
"Go the fuck away!" Peter snarled.
Amused, the nurse laughed and left.
"I'd love to choke the fuck out of you, you uptight bastard!" Cole hissed. "You've made my life hell! Stuart worries about you constantly... all I want is to be with him, and you're in the way."
"I'm not going anywhere," Peter hissed back. "I want him."
Peter laughed. "Fuck, I owned him long before you!"
"You little shit! This isn't about who wins or loses... as long as he's happy." Cole said with a patently fake smile.
"Oh right. Like you really mean that!" Peter scoffed. "They don't call you an actor for nothing, you know."
Cole opened his mouth to say something back when Stuart came into the room.
"Peter!" The relief on Stuart's face was unmistakable, and Peter shot Cole a look of triumph.
"Oh Stuart," Peter said weakly, raising his hand in Stuart's direction.
"And they call me an actor?" Cole said sotto-voice as Stuart rushed past him and clutched Peter's hand.
"Peter, are you okay?" Stuart looked so worried, Peter wanted to make it better, so he nodded, his eyes fastened on Stuart's face.
Then his gaze slid to where Cole stood behind Stuart, rolling his eyes.
"I'd feel so much better if we could just be alone...." Peter mumbled, turning his head into his pillow.
"Cole, leave us alone for a few moments," Stuart said, staring down at Peter.
"Cole!" Stuart turned to his lover and silently pleaded with him, his eyes boring into Cole's.
"Sure, Angel, if that's what you want," Cole said, kissing Stuart tenderly.
"Thanks so much, Cole," Stuart said, a smile on his face as he turned back to Peter.
Peter turned the grimace into a wan smile and clutched Stuart's hand tightly.
"I'm so glad you're here, Stuart."
"You scared the hell out of me, Peter. When I heard that thud at the other end of the phone...hell, I was out of bed and dressed in five minutes and on my way here!"
"You were in bed?" Peter's reedy voice was suddenly replaced by his usual tone, "With the 'toy soldier' out there I suppose?"
A frown graced Stuarts face momentarily, "So what?"
Mentally slapping himself around the face, Peter forced out another smile, "Oh look, let's not quarrel, not at a time like this."
"Oh Peter, what has the doctor said? Is... is it bad?"
"It's not good, Stuart." Peter whispered dramatically.
Suddenly the nurse stormed back in, "Mister Dragon, once you've signed the insurance and release forms you can go."
Stuart pulled back and stared, "Go?" he gasped, "I thought you were really sick?"
"I am!" Peter glared at the woman.
"Only mentally!" Cole's voice hissed suddenly as he moved back into the room, "Come on Stuart, I think you've witnessed enough of this performance to give it a rating. It stinks like Ishtar!"
Stuart stared for a moment, his eyes misty and a truly hurt expression on his face. "You just can't be honest, can you Peter? It always has to be some game with you."
"Stuart, I'm sorry."
"No. No you're not Peter, you're never really sorry-except for yourself."
"Stuart!" Peter began to climb from the bed.
"I'm leaving Peter, I'll see you around."
In the background, Cole Riccardi was smirking as he placed his arm around Stuarts shoulder.
Weakly Peter sat back on the bed as Stuart rushed from the room. He'd really fucked it up this time and on top of everything... his ass still hurt like hell.
"Oh, Peter. How nice to have you back," Adam tried to smile as hurricane Dragon blew into the office.
"Stop blowing sunshine up my ass and go away and die," Peter stormed, crashing his briefcase onto the desk.
"The investors are on line three..."
"They say they're pulling the funding for 'South Sea Slaughter'."
"Is it Bernie Liebowitz?"
Adam frowned, "Er, I think so, yes."
"Then tell him Rico says hi and he wants to know when the check for his new breast implants is coming through." Peter slammed the morning paper on the desk and reached for a Bourbon.
"Er... erm.. I.."
"Just do it, Stuart..." Suddenly Peter stopped dead.
"It's Adam actually," the smaller man said in almost a whisper, "Stuart isn't here."
"I know that!" Peter raged, "Why do you think I'm falling to fucking pieces?" he glared into Adam's confused face as a sadness welled up inside of him that seemed unfathomable. "Just tell him what I told you and go away, Adam." Peter slumped into the chair, watching as Adam relayed the message and listened open mouthed as the man on the other end mysteriously changed his mind and withdrew his threat.
Not even getting one over on the men with the money felt like a victory today.
Stuart fussed around his new office as 'helpers' skittered about him fetching and carrying.
It was driving him nuts.
He was used to being indispensable and here he was little more than a figurehead with a nice oak desk.
Cole had assigned him six personal assistants when one would have been ample for his needs and the man himself constantly dropped in to check up on his 'angel'.
The feeling of being stifled was becoming overwhelming. Stuart was accustomed to being the man who got things done despite everything life and Peter Dragon could throw at him and he achieved things.
Trying to busy himself, he decided to put that Feng Shui course to some use and realign his desk.
Shit, was this what he was reduced to now?
As he gripped the corner of the desk and pulled it a little to the left, Cole rushed through the door.
"Hey, don't do that, you'll hurt yourself! Marco, Dino, get in here and move Mister Glazers desk!" Cole bellowed at two tanned young men who were currently making the lobby look decorative.
"Cole, I can do this myself," Stuart complained.
"No way, my baby doesn't get his hands dirty!"
"Please, Cole. I'm not an invalid."
"No, you're my man and you don't hump furniture-just me," Cole purred moving in for a sizzling kiss.
Stuart accepted the kiss and pulled away, "You sure you don't want to hire a couple of assistants to handle that too?" he hissed. Grabbing his briefcase he walked out of the room.
There was a comfortable familiarity about walking into the Dragonfire building and much as Stuart hated to admit it, it felt like 'home'. He was greeted warmly by everyone from the doorman upwards, all of whom knew that Stuart Glazer was the real stability behind Dragonfire and Peter was the fire that drove it forward; a formidable team.
Hesitantly, Stuart stopped at Peter's door and gently tapped.
"Go away!" Peter bellowed.
Undeterred, Stuart opened the door slowly. His initial reaction was to duck for fear of flying objects, but instead he merely walked into the office and looked around. The place was a mess, files strewn across the room, tables over turned and the smell of Bourbon hung thickly in the air.
"I thought I said fucking go away!" Peter roared swinging his chair around and stopping dead in his tracks. "Stuart?" his voice slurred and his elbow slipped from the arm of the chair.
"What's going on, Peter?" Stuart gestured to the devastation around him.
"You comin' back?"
"I just came to see how you were, I've been worried about you."
Peter's face broke into a drunken smile, "So you still love me then?"
"Don't start this Peter, you're still my friend, you always will be and I was concerned about you."
"So," Stuart shifted nervously from foot to foot, "Are you okay?"
Trying to climb to his feet, Peter instead crumpled into a heap behind the desk, "Do I look okay?" his voice drifted up to Stuart as he rushed to Peter's aid.
"No, you look a mess. I'm taking you home, Peter," Stuart pressed the intercom, "Sandy, tell Wendy I'm taking Peter home, she can take over for today. And get Philip and Jane in here to sort out this mess, all of these files need to be collected and re-filed."
"Yes, Mister Glazer," came the reply.
"Come on Peter," Stuart lifted the smaller man to his feet, supporting him with an arm around the waist and helped him out of the office.
Arriving at Peter's home, Stuart waved off offers of help from his housekeeper, leading the inebriated man into the huge master bedroom to put him to bed to hopefully sober up.
Stuart stared in amazement as Peter launched into yet another verse of some unintelligible pop song as he attempted to pull Stuart into his arms while Stuart tried to get him to lie down.
"Peter, don't!" Stuart said, pushing Peter away. "I'm going to get married to Cole, Peter, and there's nothing you can do about it."
"But Stuart, look!" Peter slurred, pulling Stuart close and pointing to the mirror covered doors of his walk in closet. "See? Don't we look good together?" Peter swayed and began to sing again before he almost fell over. Stuart caught him, holding him tight and looking startled as Peter pulled away, staring into his eyes for a brief second.
"C'mere," Peter whispered, pulling Stuart over to his king sized bed. "Gonna love you so good, you don't ever leave me again.." He promptly passed out, face down on the huge bed.
Silently, Stuart began to undress Peter, his body a dead weight, yet he finally got him undressed and under a blanket. He stood and watched the other man sleep for a while, marveling at the sweet innocent look on Peter's face - nothing like him, really.
Stuart walked out, closing the door behind him, leaving Peter to sleep it off.
"Goddammit!" Stuart looked up from the huge breakfast he was enjoying when he heard Peter's shout.
"Peter? Are you okay?" He rose, starting to go to check when Peter staggered towards him, clad only in a pair of ratty looking sweatpants, looking utterly adorable, his hair awry.
Spouting obscenities, Peter grabbed the entire carafe of juice off of the table and downed it.
Balefully, he glared at Stuart, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Stuart glared back. "I stopped by to check on you. When I left you yesterday, you were passed out. I was worried, okay?" He started to turn to leave when Peter's comment stopped him dead in his tracks.
"You were probably hoping that I'd be dead, choking on my own vomit, or something equally Hollywood," Peter snarled.
Stuart turned and looked at him, and something in his eyes showed Peter he'd gone too far.
"Stuart. I'm sorry. I've got the worst hangover and -"
"Stop babbling Peter. You know you never gave a fuck about anyone but yourself. Okay, fine. I can deal with that. I always did. I just stopped by to check on a man I used to love," Stuart said quietly, yet still with a great deal of force. "I've got an appointment in forty-five minutes with my caterer." Stuart turned and started back through the house, the set of his shoulders showing how angry and hurt he was.
Peter dropped the Waterford crystal carafe on the floor as he followed after Stuart, not caring about the $400 piece of glass in 70,000 pieces on the linoleum behind him. "Stuart! Stuart wait! Fuck! Stuart!"
Stuart slammed the door, heading out to his Volkswagen, grimly ignoring the pleas and shouts of the man behind him.
Peter tried once more. "Stuart, PLEASE!"
Stuart sighed, his hand on the door. Turning he looked at his ex-employer and asked, "What?" He said it almost angrily, feeling that anger building up inside him, shaking from suppressing it, and then he suddenly snapped. He stomped towards Peter and shouted, "You arrogant asshole! I am so tired of how you act!"
Peter blinked and backed up. He held his hands up and said soothingly, "Let's go inside.. it's sure hot out here, isn't it? Maybe you've had too much sun. Come on, let's go inside."
Silently, they stepped back inside the house and Stuart looked at Peter. Peter shrugged. "I'm a dick."
"Go on," Stuart said.
"I'm an ass."
"And?" Stuart prompted, wanting to smile, his anger at the man who stood before him dissolving.
"Erm... I'm Peter Fucking Dragon?" Peter said, placing one hand on Stuart's chest.
"Peter Jackass Dragon," Stuart said wryly, shaking his head. "I hate this. I hate you acting this way, and you thinking it's okay, and everyone letting you do it."
"Especially me! You've always run over me, and I've always done what you wanted," Stuart said, wiping a shaking hand across his face.
"That was your job, Stuart," Peter reminded him with a smile.
"Yeah. Was." Stuart shrugged. "I should go. I have an appointment."
"Cancel. Change it.. something."
"Can't. It's the caterers," Stuart explained.
"Peter. You know what for," Stuart muttered.
Peter stared. "You're NOT going through with this are you?" Seeing the look on Stuart's face,
Peter felt sick. "You are.. you're gonna marry that - that - Cole Riccardi and have his babies or something!"
"What do you care?" Stuart retorted, his hand on the elaborate brass doorknob.
Peter pulled him into his arms, his mouth instinctively finding Stuart's, pressing as close to the other man as possible.
He was almost going to pull away, realizing he was the only one kissing here, when the impossible happened - Stuart began to kiss him back.
It was a hot kiss, a passionate kiss, and they remained locked together as they struggled to get down the hall to the bedroom, knocking over a table with a large vase of flowers on it, never hearing as it shattered, mindless in their pursuit of pleasure with each other.
Peter kicked the door shut behind them as their hands roamed each other's body, pulling clothes off, mouths on skin, leaving marks of passion as they collapsed onto the bed together, their bodies already slick with sweat as they kissed again.
"Take me..." Stuart whispered, turning over onto his stomach for Peter.
Peter swallowed hard and touched the Stuart's back. His shaking hands found a tube of KY that Wendy had left in the nightstand, and he prayed it would be enough.
"Fuck me," Stuart whispered, his eyes closed, shaking as Peter's fingers slid into him, preparing him, his mouth and throat dry as Peter kissed his spine, pulling him closer, covering him with his body. Finally, he could feel the blunt head of Peter's dick at his entrance and still trembling, he croaked again, "Fuck me."
"No," Peter whispered, kissing Stuart's shoulder as he pressed inwards, "I'm going to make love to you."
Stuart squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, ignoring the wetness on his face as two tears slid out from beneath his lids. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be betraying Cole, and Peter shouldn't have said love - Peter Dragon didn't love anyone but himself. But he couldn't help it.. he never had been able to help loving Peter Fucking Dragon and he couldn't resist this One Thing, this act of giving his body to someone who he knew he didn't have a snowball's chance in hell with, but he would have this One Time, and he'd treasure it forever.
Together they moved, and Stuart's fingers dug into the mattress, trying to gain leverage, panting as their bodies slid together, Stuart stiffened as Peter's hand snaked around, stroking Stuart's cock to completion.
With a shout, Stuart came, his eyes still closed, pulling Peter's orgasm from him, and they slumped together on the bed.
Stuart shook, wondering if he'd be able to stand looking at Peter when Peter rolled off of him, pulling Stuart into his arms and kissing his back again. "Love you, Stuart."
Stuart's heart pounded in his chest and he started to open his mouth when he heard Peter snore before rolling away from him.
Carefully, Stuart climbed out of bed, pulling on any clothes in his haste to get out of Peter's house. Stuart stopped as he started to leave the bedroom and he looked back at Peter. "I love you, too," he whispered, and he bolted.
Sunlight streaming on his face through the balcony doors where he'd forgotten to pull the drapes woke him this time. "Fucking sunlight! Stuart, pull the - Stuart?" Peter sat up and looked at the room. "Stuart?"
He was alone. Again. And his head was imploding.
Sitting up slowly he glanced around and saw no clothing that didn't belong to him; Stuart had gone.
Fuck and run; pure Peter Dragon tactics, but not this time. This time Peter had hoped that Stuart would be here when he woke and that things would be okay, but he wasn't and they weren't.
He knew that despite what had happened, the fight for Stuart wasn't over. He'd won a small battle, but the war was still raging.
Grabbing the phone, he began to punch in numbers, but as he was about to hit the last digit something stopped him. No, this time it was Stuart's move. He'd bide his time and not play all of his aces at ones. He needed something in reserve for the next time that muscle bound, balding fuck Riccardi tried to get one over on him and playing the waiting game right now seemed like the best option.
"I'll win this one Stuart, I swear I will, or my name's not Peter Fucking Dragon!"
Stuart tried to steady his hand enough to sign the catering order, but it still looked like the scrawling of a dyslexic six year old. He sat behind his new desk and rested his head in his hands wearily.
How did things get so out of hand?
"Hi baby!" Cole's voice rang out, making Stuart jump, "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine, I'm just tired," Stuart said quietly, not looking at the big man as he entered the room.
"I told you not to overdo it, angel. I'll get you more help!"
Stuart sprang to his feet, rage erupting in him like a volcano, "I don't need any more fucking help, Cole!" he ranted, "I am not a child, nor am I an invalid or an idiot. I almost ran Dragonfire single-handed for years. I don't need any more goddamned help, when are you going to listen to me? You never listen to me, I might as well be your pet dog, you just pet me, throw me a bone and fucking ignore every word I say! Even Peter listened to me occasionally and he's a complete fucking bastard!"
Open mouthed with shock, Cole waited for Stuart to finish, "Something wrong, Angel?" he asked.
Stuart rubbed his face and tried to stop himself from shaking, "Yes Cole, something is wrong. Me..." He walked past the bewildered actor and grabbing his jacket, he stormed from the building.
Working for Dragonfire Productions meant that you saw most everything imaginable at some point. Seeing Peter Dragon blaze through the building snapping orders and snarling answers to questions wasn't exactly unusual, but watching him throw his beloved Uncle Lonnie out of his office and telling Wendy to go play with her new dyke someplace else in a voice loud enough for all Hollywood to hear; that was unusual.
This was the company that had backers who brought in dead goats as a thank you and had a nice sideline in truly badly edited 'superstar' porno shows, but Peter Dragon never, ever raised his voice in anger to his Uncle Lonnie.
Wendy slammed her desk drawer angrily, even Peter had never gone this far before. She looked out into the lobby where Lonnie sat in his usual spot on the sofa, but instead of his normal afternoon snooze, he was working hard at not showing how upset he was.
When she heard Peter's raised voice again and saw Adam, the studio writer, literally hurled into the lobby, landing with a sickening thud, her resolve finally gave out.
Storming into Peter's office she banged on the desk.
"Who the fuck told you to come in here?" Peter growled contemptuously from behind the desk.
"You cannot go on treating people like this."
"Says who? I'm Peter Fucking Dragon, I can do anything I want!"
"No, not any more you can't. You either quit this petulant little boy routine or I'm out of here."
The sneering look on Peter's face said everything, "You're just a fucking whore, who are you to tell me what to do? Go if that's what you want to do, there are plenty more where you came from."
Wendy weathered the stinging words better than she thought she could, standing up straight and adjusting her clothes, brushing imaginary lint from the surface. "Fine, I'll go. Yeah, Peter, I'm a whore and I never pretended for one minute that I was anything else. But you're just a loser who thinks he's a big shot. You have no movie as of an hour ago, because the backers just pulled funding. Half of your staff walked out of the door this morning because you've become insufferable even by your standards. They just took your writer to hospital with a concussion and everyone who should mean anything to you hates you, even your daughter who called earlier and cancelled this weekend because 'Daddy's being a jerk and I don't want to talk to him right now'.
Wake up and smell the roses Peter, you're losing everything you worked for because you're a spoiled brat who thinks he's a man. As a 'whore' let me tell you something... you ain't."
She turned on her heels and stormed from the office, slamming the door on the way out.
Peter sat back in his chair, Wendy's words still singing in his ears. Everything was going to hell and he couldn't stop it. Without Stuart out there to calm the peasants, he was next to useless.
The temporary victory he'd felt at Stuart ending up in his bed suddenly became hollow. He didn't just need Stuart in his bed, he needed Stuart the man, here at work... in his life... to stop him fucking things up.
He'd been wrong. Peter Dragon had actually been wrong about something-about everything and he needed to make amends.
He picked up the phone and began to dial, but before he could finish, the door of his office burst open and Cole Riccardi blazed in.
"Where is Stuart!" he demanded.
"How the fuck do I know, he's your 'blushing bride'," Peter sneered, looking frantically at the door for Uncle Lonnie to come to his aide.
"Don't bother looking for security, Peter, they're not out there. I have news for you," Cole flung a piece of paper across the desk, "They're on strike!"
Peter glanced at the page, it read:
Due to the unforeseen circumstance of having a total jerk for a boss, the staff of Dragonfire Productions are on strike until further notice.
"Strike?" Peter gasped, "They can't fucking strike, I don't allow unions!"
"Even I know that Wendy organized a union six weeks ago, Peter. You should keep a closer eye on your staff!" Cole almost grinned.
"Stuart deals with all of that," Peter whispered, still unable to believe what had happened.
Cole reached across and grabbed Peter by the shirt, hauling him half way across the desk, "But Stuart's not here and I want to know where he is and what you've done to upset him?" he snarled the words into Peter's face.
"I haven't done anything, I don't know where he is!"
"You're a liar, it comes as easily to you as breathing, doesn't it?"
"Look, I don't know where he is, you think I'd be in this fucking mess if I did?"
Cole let Peter slip back into his seat. "I suppose you have a point," he glanced around the office and ran his fingers through his hair, "Look, I know that you're pissed with me about Stuart coming to work for me, he was important to you here, I think this whole mess is testament to that. But I love Stuart."
"So do I," Peter snapped back.
"Peter you wouldn't know love if it crawled up your ass. You 'want' and you 'take', end of story. You might 'want' Stuart right now, but if you loved him, you wouldn't have let him walk out that door in the first place."
"You poached him, remember?"
"And you think I could have done that if you hadn't made his life intolerable? Stuart loves this company and you, God help him, and wild horses couldn't have dragged him away from here if you hadn't totally fucked up and driven him away. You're selfish, arrogant, childish, and fucking ignorant and you treat people like possessions," Cole leaned across the desk and glared into Peter's face, "You don't deserve him!"
"And you do?"
In the heat of the conversation, neither man had heard the door open. Stuart stood in the doorway watching the two men he loved squabble over him like infants claiming ownership of the last cookie in the jar.
"Mind if I join in?" he said finally. This was it; he'd made his mind up. They weren't going to like it, but Peter Dragon and Cole Riccardi just started playing by Stuart Glazer's rules.
"Stuart!" Both men exclaimed at once.
"Yes, I'm flattered you know my name," Stuart said wryly.
"Baby -" Cole started.
"Don't 'baby' me, Cole," Stuart snapped. "I'm sick of you both! You're going to listen to me for once in your miserable petty lives!"
Both Cole and Peter stood and gaped, their mouths hanging open at this uncharacteristic behavior from their Stuart.
"I am tired of this! You treat me like a possession. Neither one of you own me and I can do as I damn well please! I can walk out of here now and there is nothing you can do about that, either of you. Is that what you want?"
"No!" Peter said first, shooting a glance at Cole. "*I* want you to stay. With me."
"No, he's my -" Cole started to say.
"You aren't listening, so I'm leaving," Stuart announced as he turned.
"No! I was being good, Stuart, you can't punish me for Cole being a dickwad!" Peter said, tugging at the other man. "Tell him, Cole. Admit to him it's all your fault!"
"I'm not admitting anything," Cole said, exasperated. "But don't go, Stuart, please? What do you want from us?"
Aha. Caught. Hook line and sinker, Stuart smirked to himself.
"So, I take it that I have your attention?" he asked.
Both men nodded dumbly and waited.
"Good. Sit," Stuart pointed to the chairs, now upturned from the scuffle and the two men eagerly grabbed one each and sat down meekly.
"I am tired of being your punching bag, Peter," he began to address his former boss to the joy of Cole Riccardi, "I'm sick of the way you treat me like a dog and yet still expect me to get the job done. But, I know that you trust me and that when it comes down to it you always back me up, even if you then bitch about it for the next six months."
Peter allowed himself a smirk in Cole's direction.
"Cole," Stuart turned to the big actor who had acquired a 'loving, puppy dog' expression, "I know that you love me, but you treat me like some useless, empty headed actress. You ask me to work with you then refuse to give me any responsibility beyond making a call to the caterers and choosing the office drapes. Even at home, I'm the eternal 'bottom' who gets to lie back and think of Hollywood and that's not good enough!"
"But, Angel!" Cole huffed as a snigger from his rival reached his ears.
"No, Cole! I am not your 'angel', your 'baby', or your 'little love bug'. I'm Stuart fucking Glazer and I won't be treated like a child!" Stuart blazed suddenly and the two seated men physically leaned back in their chairs.
"So, where is all of this leading us?" Peter asked at last.
"Oh yes, the 'next step'. You both say that you want me?"
"Yes!" the twin voices were unanimous and strong.
"Fine," Stuarts eyes gleamed, "So what are you both willing to sacrifice for the privilege?"
"What?" Peter asked open mouthed.
"Peter, when you're making a movie, you get your own way, right? No matter what you have to do to get there? Isn't that the Hollywood way?"
Peter pursed his lips, "Well yeah, I guess."
"I've seen you kiss ass to people who didn't deserve to be cleaning out your toilet, but you did it because the movie was the only consideration. You made sacrifices to get what you wanted."
Stuart smiled slyly before turning to Cole, "And you, 'my love'. How many asses have you kissed-or worse, just to get the part you wanted? How many times have you played the 'dumb actor' because you thought that's what the director wanted?"
"'Played'?" Peter sneered.
Cole shot him an evil glare but returned his gaze to Stuart, "Sure, I've made sacrifices, who hasn't?"
"Exactly," Stuart sat himself down on the corner of Peter's desk, "So here's my proposal. I can't and won't choose between you. I love you both and more importantly I want you both, so you can either share me, like good boys, or I can move on and find someone who will treat me right. It's all or nothing boys, so don't either of you think about 'removing the opposition' because if I can't have you both, I don't want either of you."
The sound of both men talking at once made Stuart wince, but in a few moments they'd both become quiet.
"Is there a problem?" he asked.
"What exactly do you mean, 'share'?" Peter asked.
"I mean that when I want to be with you, Peter, I'll be with you. And when I want to spend time with Cole, I'll spend time with Cole. It's quite an easy concept when you give it some thought!"
Stuart's grin grew wider, "And maybe sometimes I might want you both-at the same time, who knows?"
The two men looked at each other in abject horror.
"No way am I ever touching him," Peter growled.
"Oh, like I'd let you? I made that mistake once before, remember?" Cole snapped.
"What, so we're not 'girlfriends' any more?" Peter sneered.
"Enough!" Stuart climbed to his feet and straightened his jacket, "You can both have time to think about this, I'm off to talk to the staff and see if I can't get them back to work here. I'll be back at seven this evening for your decision."
Peter frowned, "What exactly are we deciding again?"
"Whether you're man enough to share your toys yet, Peter."
"Sharing is one thing, but with an actor for fucks sake? Couldn't you develop a taste for farmyard animals or something?" Peter pulled a face in Cole's direction and watched the actor bristle.
"I'm saying nothing else, I'll see you both at seven!"
Peter glanced at the clock, it was six thirty and he'd spent all day with fucking Cole Riccardi, no wonder he was homicidal. The actor was talking to someone on the phone and making nice noises like only actors could.
Peter straightened the chairs again and checked the champagne chilling in the cooler. He really couldn't believe he was going through with this, but to say no would give Riccardi the okay to get around Stuart and that wasn't an option.
He was sure that Stuart would get tired of all of this in a few weeks, then he could off the old man, Riccardi and he and Stuart would live happily ever after. At least that was the plan.
As Cole clicked off the phone, it immediately rang again.
"What is it with gays? Are you permanently physically attached to those things?" Peter spat.
Cole unexpectedly grinned, "Peter, I hate to drop this on you when you're enjoying feeling superior, but you're currently fighting over a man yourself. You suck cock, 'girlfriend', you're queer!" he sneered.
Peter fumed, "I don't believe in labels, there are none that sufficiently describe what I am!"
"Oh, you got that right!" Cole snorted.
In moments they were squaring up at each other again, bristling like fighting dogs kept hungry and on their toes for days before the leash was slipped.
Almost chest to chest the two men glared at each other, Cole almost head and shoulders taller than Peter, but Peter Dragon had a steely look that meant he was serious about this.
"Did you get the Godiva chocolates?" Peter growled through gritted teeth.
"Stuart doesn't like them, he's watching his weight!" Cole replied with a snarl.
"He's not fat, he doesn't need to. Have you been criticizing him?"
"No! He likes to look nice," Cole was in Peter's face and in the blink of an eye they were wrestling each other to the floor, fists flying, hair being pulled and crotches being grabbed and twisted.
"Oh, you boys have started without me, that's encouraging!" Stuart's voice spoke suddenly and stopped the fight.
Peter lay on his back with Cole on top of him, his shirt had been torn open and he'd lost the button on his pants. Cole was looking equally disheveled with one arm of his shirt torn at the shoulder.
They both smiled and tentatively climbed to their feet.
"We were...er...just roughhousing!" Peter smiled, "Letting off a bit of steam. It's been a stressful day."
"Great idea, Peter, when you've had a bad day you can come in here and beat up the boss. I must remember to mention it to the staff."
"Angel, you look great!" Cole pulled his tattered shirt together and moved towards Stuart, kissing him softly.
Looking on Peter grimaced, "Whereas Cole looks like an ageing actor who had a rough night!"
"At least I had something to work on for starters, Peter. A beautiful painting just matures with age, but a cheap dime store novel is always a cheap dime store novel!" Cole sneered as he combed his fingers through his hair.
"Gentlemen please!" Stuart sighed, "Have you come to a decision?"
In unison the two men said 'Yes.'
The sun was shining, the birds were singing and it was another beautiful day in Hollywood, Stuart thought as he opened his eyes and saw the sun creeping through the crack in the blinds.
Glancing to the left, he smiled as Peter Dragon softly snored beside him. Gently he ran his hand down Peter's back and let it linger on his ass, the softness of the skin beneath his fingers thrilling him beyond words.
This was more than he could ever have hoped for, Peter in his bed and back in his life for keeps.
Suddenly Stuart heard the soft padding of bare feet on the wooden floor and Cole hove into view.
"Morning, baby!" he smiled as he placed the tray down and climbed back into the bed beside Stuart. "I made us breakfast."
"Did you make some for Peter?"
"There are leftovers in the dog bowl," Cole still beamed but the words were cold.
"Cole!" Stuart warned.
With a sigh, Cole nodded, "Okay, I guess there's enough for three, that's if he ever wakes up."
"He'll be awake in a minute, he had a hectic night!"
Cole didn't answer, he merely clamped down on a smile and tried not to grimace.
"Gotta go to the bathroom," Stuart hopped from the bed and disappeared.
"Stuart?" Peter mumbled as the bed bounced.
"Damn, I hoped you'd choked in the night, Dragon." Cole groaned.
Peter sat up and shook his head. "No, it's usually dumb-fuck actors who do that kind of thing. That's the problem when they can't read the instructions on their pill bottles."
"You ever thought of trying autoerotic asphyxiation, Peter? Because I'd always help you know? I'm real good at tying knots!"
"Fuck you, Riccardi!"
"Not if I have to get my asshole sown up, Dragon."
Suddenly Stuart wandered back in and both men took on a different persona.
"Baby!" Cole cooed.
"Stuart!" Peter sighed.
Stuart Glazer smiled as he climbed back in between the two men. No one ever said this was going to be easy.