40. Chapter 40
Chapter forty
Dane
A s soon as he landed in Atlanta, it was constant go-go-go. Nadiya, the producer for Interior Commotion, rode with him from the airport to the little housing complex they had on the shooting lot, and gave him the run down just so he would know what he was getting into. It was purely a competition show. No actual houses involved. They would build a pair of identical rooms on a sound stage, then send amateur or up-and-coming interior designers into them. They would have two days to get the rooms put together within a given budget, and to fit a specific brief. The lack of travel was why they just let crew stay at housing on the lot. Her final goal was apparently to prove the concept so she could go after a big team competition. Two completely identical houses, redone one room at a time in a big competition until there was one winner left at the end.
Any other time, Dane would have been down to talk about that. It sounded like a logistical nightmare, but a fun watch. Instead, he gave the best platitudes he could and tried to keep it from being too obvious he was checking his phone. He and Aras were texting back and forth, and since he’d had his phone off the entire flight, he had messages to catch up on there. Krissy also told him she’d found someone to sublet his half of the apartment, and he was arranging to send her a little extra money for her trouble…and to pack up all his models so they weren’t in danger of getting broken or stolen or whatever.
Once Nadiya dropped him off at the front desk, and a production assistant showed him where to go, Dane was basically on his own. He’d been given the phone numbers to call if he needed help, but frankly, he just wanted to get settled in and…well, not be around anyone for a minute.
It was a different setup than he would have imagined, though Dane wasn’t a hundred percent sure what it was he had imagined. The housing was basically just a series of those portable classroom looking things, two doors each. The interior was furnished well enough to be livable. Not quite as nice as a hotel room, but there was a double bed, a desk with a remarkably comfortable armchair, a TV, and a much better kitchenette than most hotel rooms. He had a little induction burner, a sink, and a half-sized refrigerator, plus the ubiquitous coffee pot and microwave. Someone had even left him a welcome basket. Nothing crazy, but some chocolates, some sodas and sparkling waters, a few bags of chips and crackers, and some dried fruit and nuts. It was nice enough, and he grabbed an orange soda from the basket before flopping back on the bed.
Then his full focus went to his phone. No new texts from anyone, other than a thumbs up from Krissy to let him know she’d gotten the money he sent. Aras was probably still busy, and it wasn’t as if Dane hadn’t left him on read for hours. He wasn’t worried about them…all right, that wasn’t totally true. Both of them were worried about the relationship, and for fair reason. But that wasn’t the catalyst for him checking his phone three hundred times a minute.
Dane was bored and alone and didn’t have any other outlet. So he didn’t let himself bug Aras to no end, but he had…nothing else. Not until the next day, when he got the rundown of his actual duties and the structure of the crew. And it wasn’t even dark out yet, so he had the rest of the day to kill.
Dane snacked and drank a couple sodas and searched the Atlanta area. He wouldn’t be working all day, every day, and without Aras to give him settled plans every night, he’d need something.
His eyes landed on a shop in a nearby mall. Well, they landed on a specific product in the shop’s pictures. They were some non-chain game shop, and he saw a model displayed on a shelf. A familiar model, with lots of legs. The Blinding Seraph from Ancient Protectorate of the Holy Garden. The one Aras had clocked that got them watching the damn show together. It was stupid to admit it, even to himself, but the relationship they had, however tentative it might have felt at times, was tied up in that show. It gave them the excuse they needed to spend all that time together. Without Ancient Protectorate, there wouldn’t be any concern or worry or boredom.
And somehow, this shop in the same city as Dane had a model available that was basically impossible to find in the states. He may not have put much stock into fate, but this felt too significant to ignore. Dane called up the store almost without thinking, and he placed an order with the guy on the other end of the line. Pickup in fifteen minutes, which would be just enough time for Dane to get himself a ride set up and get over there.
Dane was stripped down to his underwear so he didn’t get paint and glue on anything he might have to wear the next day. He’d gotten a full supply kit—not the same quality he had at home, but it would do—while he was at the store, and he’d even impulse-bought a couple other models. He needed something to do with his hands and his brain, and building plastic robots was his safe place.
He was assembling the last leg of the robot when his phone buzzed. He wiped his hands on a scrap of paper towel, then grabbed it. Aras, sharing a picture of the finished collection room. It was utterly stunning, Dane had to admit, and though he’d never tell Aras, it might well have been the first time he’d really appreciated how pretty carnival glass could be. He liked the way it looked enough, and he really liked how invested Aras got talking about it and explaining it. His face was totally different when they were watching that auction place go through glass, and when he was looking over Caroline’s collection.
Dane drafted a whole response, then stopped and looked at the setup around himself. He couldn’t help but smile at the idea, no matter how stupid it seemed, and before he knew it, he was flipping his camera around and pointing it at himself. He held a paintbrush in his teeth and leaned back to show off his torso and the desk covered in little plastic parts and pots of paint at the same time. It took a couple tries to get a picture that looked good enough, but once he did, he sent it.
Thinking of you .
After a few seconds, Aras sent back a little face with its tongue out, then a breath later, a picture of his own. Not nearly as unclothed, but he’d pulled up his shirt all the way to his collar bone and posed against the multicolored lights and glass of the collection display room. The way the colors played over his skin looked like he was inside an aurora. Reds, blues, purples, greens all splotched his torso and reflected in the whites of his eyes.
And his smile. His smile was everything. Reaching through the phone to give him some warmth from a thousand miles away or however the fuck far they were.
Then a third text came through from Aras.
Is it offensive if I jack off to that pic you sent?
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Dane sighed and smiled, then went back to his model. He already had this one, but it didn’t matter. He’d needed that connection. Plus, it would be a little sliver of home while he was living on the lot here.
And a reminder of Aras until they could get back together.