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Are you blind when you’re born?
Stiles stood at the barre as he went through warm-ups. He had arrived to the rehearsal room early, the morning sun angling in through the large windows. Despite knowing that the director would be having the group stretch before they got started for the day, Stiles had wanted to have some time to himself. It was a habit he picked up at Juilliard, and given how nervous he was he figured it couldn’t hurt to have a chance to relax.
Alright, so alone was a relative term. Scott had been dragged along. The man was barely awake but he was dutifully going through the barre work alongside Stiles. The fact that either of them had been chosen for the production was incredible- fresh out of Juilliard as they were- and for both of them to land a role, well, they wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
As people started to filter in, Stiles called a break and Scott thankfully plopped on the floor, back against the wall. At least he handed Stiles his water before leaning his head against the wall in an effort to catch a few more winks. Stiles shook his head, taking a drink. And then almost immediately choked on it.
“Holy shit dude.” He kicked Scott anxiously till the other man glared up at him. “It’s Chris Argent.”
Said man had walked through the door, dressed for practice and a bag over his shoulder. Stiles would recognize thee Chris Argent anywhere. It only partially had to do with the fact that the man was gorgeous - hello, silver fox alert- and more so that he was one of the people Stiles had looked up to over the years.
Chris was one of the Argent’s, a family whose name had been connected to theatre for three generations. Stiles had followed the man’s career and had seen him numerous times on stage in a variety of productions. Chris mainly stuck with musical theatre but he’d been known to take on a more “traditional” theatre role from time to time. Although Stiles noted most of those occurred when Chris had sustained an injury that kept him from dancing.
“Dude, that’s so cool,” Scott replied, which was pretty much putting it mildly. “Wonder what part he’s playing.”
“Has to be a lead.” There was no way to cast Chris as anything but. Granted, Cats was more of an ensemble but it still had a few stand out roles. There were characters who had their own songs and more of a stage presence than the others. Chris just had to be one of those. “I mean if I could get Mistoffelees-”
“Stiles.”
His mouth clicked shut. Apparently he’d been rambling again- a nervous habit he never grew out of- though thankfully it seemed that it hadn’t been loud enough to draw attention.
It was hard to take his eyes off Chris. When he did Stiles noted other people he recognized from one thing or another. “Dude,” he smacked Scott’s shoulder once again, “it’s Derek Hale.”
“I thought he and Laura weren’t in the business anymore.”
Derek looked as though he just rolled out of bed, stubble on his face and hair an artful mess. He dropped his bag over in the corner before promptly lying down and curling up. “Apparently,” Stiles mused, “he’s back.”
The Hale’s had been in the business just as long, if not longer, than the Argent’s. Therefore it wasn’t really surprising to see at least one of them, especially when the current matriarch was running the production. Still, it was curious given the recent rumors circulating about Derek and Laura. Perhaps rumors was all they were.
“Isn’t that Allison Argent?” Stiles asked when a beautiful brunette about their age wandered in, attention drawn from Derek. Sure enough she set her bag down near Chris, who smiled warmly and stopped his stretching to give her a hug.
“She’s gorgeous,” Scott breathed.
“Oh God.” Stiles groaned. “And it begins.” Scott was nothing if not predictable. He wondered how that one would work out. “Woah. Check it out! Isaac!”
Scott’s attention was drawn to the familiar face. Both of them traded hugs with the other recent Juilliard graduate. “What the hell are you doing here?” Scott inquired.
Isaac lifted a shoulder, giving his usual sweet smile. “Pouncival.”
Stiles grabbed both his friends by the shoulders. “Dude, looks like you two will be working a lot together.” To Isaac he explained, “This one’s Plato.”
“Awesome.” Isaac’s grin only grew, clearly relieved that he actually knew anyone else there.
Perhaps this whole thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Alright ladies and gentlemen,” a voice spoke up over the low chatter that had started to fill the room. A fierce looking woman stood in front of them- one Talia Hale, director of production. She was perhaps only three percent less scary than she’d been the day of auditions- five if he was being generous. “I believe most everyone is here so let’s go ahead and get the introductions out of the way.
“For those of you who might not remember me, I’m Talia Hale. And I’ll be making your lives hell for the next few months.” That got some nervous laughs, and Stiles was pretty certain the woman wasn’t kidding either. “Some of you have worked with me before.” She nodded pointedly to Chris and Allison who both gave her respectful nods in turn. “Those who haven’t, you’ll find I’m fair. I admire improvisation where appropriate, I’m open to discussing your character, and I’m not unreasonable with choreography.
“ However . I do expect full dedication from each and every one of my performers. That means showing up on time, putting in the necessary practice both here and on your own time if need be, and not doing anything that would hinder this production in any way.”
As though on cue a man walked in that made Stiles’ jaw drop. It was Peter fucking Hale. As though it wasn’t bad enough that Chris was in the production, apparently one of Stiles’ other idols was as well.
Peter had risen to stardom on Broadway pretty quickly. It had nothing to do with him being part of the Hale legacy and everything to do with pure talent. The man was known to be a playboy, a terrible flirt, and a pain in the ass to work with. Not that Stiles could argue with the results. The man had nothing except leading roles in the last decade and Stiles could admit to obsessing over him as much as Chris. Besides, Peter was sin in a v-neck; if he wanted to flirt, he very much deserved it.
“Case in point,” Talia muttered. “You did that on purpose.”
“Are you accusing me of waiting outside the door to make a poignant entrance?” Peter inquired with a raised brow and a smirk.
“You’re not exempt from the rules Peter. Be sure to remember that. I’ll replace you as quickly as anyone else. Perhaps more so given that as my brother you should be helping to set an example.” Peter mock saluted her before going to the side of the room and dropping his own dance bag. He then promptly ignored the rest of Talia’s speech.
“Now, the schedule is going to look something like this,” she continued. “Warm-ups will be followed by movement training. You’re all going to have to learn to be cats. Some of you will pick it up easier than others and that’s okay. Once you learn to move properly, then we can learn the routines. It will be dance in the mornings, vocals in the afternoons.
“We won’t be looking at combining the two for at least three weeks. Blocking will be at least two months out. I like to think we’ll be doing full dress rehearsals with at least two weeks until opening, but I’m realistic enough to know it will most likely be only a week.
“The month leading up to the opening will also require some of you to be available for interviews, previews, and the like. But we’ll talk about that more when the time arrives. For now, let’s just take it one day at a time. As always, the schedule is flexible.”
Talia looked around at everyone, apparently happy that they had all heard and understood. “Alright then,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Everyone go ahead and stretch, get warmed up and limber. Then Alan will be in to coach you through the movement exercises.”
Stiles started to stretch again, wondering how in the world the whole “moving like a cat” thing was going to go. Naturally, between his nerves and his overactive brain, he started humming out a vaguely related tune. Isaac, who was practically bent in half, raised a brow at him, and so Stiles started to sing softly, “Everybody wants to be a cat. ‘Cause the cat’s the only cat, who knows where it’s at.”
Scott chuckled and shook his head. “Only you could make an Aristocats reference right now.”
“Only you could know it was an Aristocats reference.”
“Touche.”
Stiles’ eyes were drawn to Peter as he made his way across the room, practically slinking. Stiles didn’t figure the older man needed training on how to be a feline. Peter was liquid grace already. When said man walked right up to Chris, well, Stiles may have choked on his tongue a little.
As though I haven’t oogled them enough over the years, right?
* * *
Jellicle cats meet once a year.
“Ahh, Christopher,” Peter purred. He didn’t even hide the fact he was checking out Chris’ ass while he stretched his hamstring with his foot up on the barre.
“Peter,” he acknowledged. They were far from strangers and this was hardly their first production together.
“Talia tells me you’re going to be my Munkustrap. How fitting.” Chris raised a brow. “Well, since I’m playing Tugger…”
“Of course you are,” Chris answered in an exasperated fashion, however the wry grin as he shook his head gave him away. It also explained Peter’s comment seeing as how Rum Tum Tugger and Munkustrap had a lot of interaction.
“Allison,” Peter greeted with that same flirty smile that made Chris sigh all over again.
Chris had to hold himself back from high-fiving his daughter when she raised a brow at Peter in perfect mimicry of Chris before rolling her eyes away. “Flirt with Dad some other time Peter. We’ve got work to do.” Alright, so that last part may have caused Chris to blush. Damnit .
“Icepick to the heart,” was Peter’s answer, though he was still smiling. “See you at lunch Chris.”
Chris gave a long-suffering sigh. “ No you won’t Peter.” Naturally the bastard had already walked away. “This is going to be a long production.”
“You can say that again,” he heard Allison mutter.
* * *
The naming of cats is a difficult matter.
Stiles was pleasantly surprised to find that the morning went over just fine. Movement training wasn’t nearly as bad as he would have thought it to be. Their coach turned out to be none other than Alan Deaton who was a Cats veteran and also playing Old Deuteronomy.
After a break for lunch, which he shared with Scott and Isaac, they all met up again in an orchestra rehearsal room for vocal work. It also hailed the return of Talia. “We’re going to be working on chorus work for the first week or so in order to get a feel for the group,” she explained. With a smirk, she added, “Think of it as a team-building exercise.”
Before they got started, Talia had everyone introduce themselves and the parts they would be playing. It turned out that Derek was going to be Alonzo, while Allison had gotten the part of Victoria. That certainly made Scott start to drool when he realized they would have a rather intimate dance together. Stiles had to elbow him for fear Chris would notice the way Scott was looking at his daughter.
It was quite a mixed group between young performers and experienced ones. There were also people more suited to dance than singing, such as Stiles was. He was infinitely glad he only had a short vocal solo to contend with. He would much rather be dancing- which would certainly happen given his highlighted solo towards the end of the show.
Despite his lack of vocal range like Peter or Chris, Stiles put his all into practice. And if he caught Peter cutting him glances from time to time, well, he chalked it up to his imagination.
* * *
The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat.
“Dude, do you know how hard it is not to freak out every time I’m anywhere near him?”
Peter paused, a naturally curious creature much like his feline counterpart he was playing. He recognized the voice as Stiles and moved closer to the break room that he was in. Apparently Stiles and that friend of his- Scott wasn’t it?- had chosen to take their lunch in there.
“You’ll be fine.”
“No. No I won’t be, okay? How long have I drooled over that man?”
Scott sighed heavily. “Like I don’t know? You only dragged me to Les Mis twice ‘cause he was playing Valjean.”
Well now… There was no doubt just whom Stiles was speaking of. Peter didn’t know anyone else in the cast that had played Valjean outside of himself. He couldn’t say that it didn’t stroke his ego, especially coming from Stiles. The boy was rather enchanting if he were being honest.
Stiles huffed at his friend’s response, apparently not entirely pleased. “Hey, don’t forget that Chris was also in the damn thing.”
“Yeah, you went on for like a week about how Javert and Valjean were eye-fucking each other.”
“They were!”
“And you said the same thing when they played in Phantom.”
“I can’t help it if the Phantom and Raoul had more chemistry with each other than Christine!”
Peter had to hold back the snicker. Admittedly, he and Chris tended to be very intense on stage together. It stemmed from both their playful animosity- which hadn’t been so playful in the beginning- and their mutual sexual attraction.
He was so wrapped up in listening to the young men’s conversation that he missed his nephew approaching. “You are such a creeper,” he mentioned blandly on his way past. Derek greeted the pair as he walked in the room, thankfully not saying a word about his uncle’s eavesdropping. At least family counted for something.
Peter was fairly certain Stiles wasn’t going to speak about him any longer with Derek around, so instead he slunk off to see about tracking down a certain Argent.
* * *
Jellicle Cats come out tonight. Jellicle Cats come one, come all.
By the end of the first week, Deaton suggested that they do an exercise during their morning movement training. They were to all go around and interact with each other as their cats. They had learned how to move as cats in general but it was now time to develop their individual personas more. After all, each cat had their own little quirks and they needed to know how those personalities meshed to allow organic interaction onstage.
The kittens , as the young characters were termed, were always on all fours unless dancing. The adults mixed things up more. The only exception was Chris and Peter who always walked on two legs, as Munkustrap and Tugger were rather essential characters- Chris especially given that Munku basically directed all the action of the show. To that end, the pair had taken up posts in a couple chairs while the rest of them crawled around with each other.
It was a bit odd at first but once they all settled into their “cat selves” it seemed to just happen. Deaton had encouraged them not to break character, however if they couldn’t quite figure out how their cat would react to someone else’s then between the pair and Deaton they would figure it out.
Mistoffelees was a rather aloof cat, so Stiles figured his more intimate interaction would be a minimal. Other cats would rub against each other, groom, play, or even cuddle. Misto wasn’t so inclined. Therefore when he was stretching out and Scott- er, Plato - attempted to play, Stiles arched his back and hissed, pulling a paw up ready to strike. For his part, Scott looked cowed, shedding away and ducking his head.
His hackles lowered when he felt someone rub against him, head snapping around to find Derek pressing his shoulder against Stiles’ side. Now unlike Plato who was barely more than a kitten- as evident by the fact that he followed in Tugger’s wake with Pouncival and some of the others- Alonzo was a more mature cat. Therefore it only made sense Misto would enjoy Alonzo’s company more. With that in mind, Stiles moved his head to meet Derek’s, the two rubbing their cheeks together.
Derek was distracted by Isaac, who was barreling around like the playful kitten he was supposed to be. He was swatted at in annoyance by some and affectionately nuzzled by others. Then of course one of the other kittens engaged him in play. Derek took that as a cue to pounce Isaac from behind, the smaller man flopping to his stomach with Derek simply sprawling across him and acting as though he had no plans to get up.
Stiles barely held back the very human like scoff. He was fairly certain that interaction had been Derek ’s feelings towards Isaac rather than his character’s. Isaac had stuck with Stiles and Scott through that week. So when Derek started to hang around with them, there was no missing the subtle flirting.
Not the Scott was much better. They had wrangled Allison into hanging out, as well as a few of the other people their age. Since then Scott had been rather obvious in regards to his attraction. Hell, the guy was flirting right now. Just like in her “human form,” Allison played coy and hard to get before tumbling around with the young woman playing Jemima.
Moving on, Stiles interacted with a few more “cats.” Most of the time it was a simple touch of their hands. It was a sign of mutual respect without being overly friendly, something Stiles figured Misto would do with most all the other cats save a few he would be on friendly terms with.
He had noticed people moving in and out of both Chris and Peter’s space. The two were mainly talking, completely ignoring Deaton’s instructions, however they went back into character whenever someone approached. Most fawned over Peter, though there were a few that turned their noses up at him. With Chris, all the kittens treated him with enthusiasm- rubbing and pawing at him- as well as some of the young adults, while the older cats offered a paw and a bowed head.
Stiles had been moving at the edge of their space for a little while when Peter’s voice drifted over to him. “He’s stalking us Christopher.” Stiles turned in time to see Chris’ replying eye roll.
Huffing, Stiles sat back on his heels and sent Peter an annoyed look. They hadn’t really talked all that much, and he’d spoken even less to Chris. As early as it was into things though, Stiles wasn’t exactly worried about it. With such a big cast it would be a while before they all really got to know each other. Still, Peter had attempted to engage him enough that Stiles didn’t have to try all that hard to play up Misto’s annoyance towards Tugger’s character.
“I’m trying decide how to deal with you is all,” Stiles defended.
“Well talk it out,” Chris offered. He leaned forward with his forearms on his knees, completely breaking character. “What have you been thinking?”
“Honestly it’s mainly you. He’s easy,” he said of Peter, stabbing his thumb in his direction.
“Is that so?” Peter inquired with a smirk.
“Yeah, I don’t like you.” It had fallen from Stiles’ mouth and when Peter raised a brow, Stiles felt a rush to explain. “I mean not that I don’t like you. Misto doesn’t like Tugger. I like you fine. Just- damnit- no, not like that. I- oh hell…” Stiles quit while he was ahead, looking away from Peter who was looking like the cat with the cream, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Deciding to get out while he was ahead, but knowing he still needed to at least do his thing with Chris, Stiles looked up at the older man and said, “I guess I’ve got it.”
Chris nodded, straightening his posture and tilting his head a bit, the perfect picture of a regal, albeit welcoming, cat. Stiles slinked the couple steps closer, lifting a hand up to him. When Chris leaned forward to touch their hands together though, rather than simply bowing his head as others had done, Stiles rubbed his head and cheek against Chris’ hand.
He promptly left, knowing full well he was turning red. Stiles thought it was what Misto would do though, showing respect but also a bit of affection towards someone who would protect him and the others of their group so readily. Given his own feelings towards the man however, it was a wonder Stiles had managed to get up the nerve.
He swore he heard Peter snickering and Stiles chose to ignore it. Rather he went and lounged on his back next to Derek and Scott who had started something of a bachelor males sewing circle. Stiles had the feeling it wasn’t going to get any easier dealing with either of the two sexy men he pretended he couldn’t feel eyeballing him from across the room.
* * *
Well of all things, can it be really?
Chris looked down at his hand, then back at Stiles as he laid sprawled out beside Derek, and down at his hand once more. Peter snickered, Chris shooting him a look. “I told you,” Peter said smartly. “He’s more than just a little infatuated with the both of us.”
“I thought you were exaggerating,” Chris huffed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, “as usual.”
“You wound me.”
“I’ll wound you alright,” Chris muttered.
He had been putting up with Peter for as long as he could remember. They were around the same age and both from well known theatre families so it was inevitable really. Peter would probably say the fact they fell into bed together was also inevitable but Chris would argue that in a heartbeat. He was more likely to say Peter had merely become a nuisance and fucking him was the easiest way to shut him up for a while.
Admittedly he cared about Peter, which was part of the problem. Peter was a man of one night stands and the occasional repeat lover- like Chris. At least Peter was upfront about it, no one led to believe there could ever be more.
It didn’t matter anyway as Chris wasn’t looking for a relationship after his ex-wife. They were both in theatre, both away from home for long periods of a time. It was a strain that their marriage couldn’t bear. He still saw Victoria from time to time- and wasn’t it ironic that his daughter now played a character of the same name?- and they were amiable enough. At the end of the day though, Chris knew he couldn’t bear to have his heart broken again.
As Chris watched Stiles, he wondered if the young man wouldn’t actually be interested in some sort of… arrangement.
It wasn’t long after that Deaton called for a lunch break. Not even paying attention to the man’s feedback- which was unlike him- Chris walked over to where Stiles was chatting with Scott. He had already noted the pair were joined at the hip and according to Allison, who had fallen in with the other young performers, they were both fresh out of Julliard.
“Stiles,” he prompted, drawing the young man’s attention. “Do you mind if we talk a minute?”
“Uh,” his eyes cut to Scott real quick, “yeah, sure.”
“I’ll grab yer regular dude,” Scott assured before jogging to catch up with Derek and Isaac.
Chris thought he heard Stiles mutter something under his breath along the lines of “Traitor.” Ignoring that, Chris said, “I won’t keep you. I just wanted to let you know I’d be happy to help you with anything. If you needed it.” When Stiles looked at him in surprise, Chris continued, “I know Deaton played Mistoffelees before and already offered to help but-”
“No, that would be great!” Stiles curbed the enthusiasm, a blush crossing his cheeks as he backpedaled. “I mean, yeah, thanks. I’d, uh, I’d really appreciate that.”
Chris gave him what he hoped was a winning smile. “Good.” He nodded. “Well, I should probably let you catch up to your friends.” Stiles smiled at him, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. Thanking him again, Stiles started to leave. “See you later.”
Stiles grinned over his shoulder, giving him a little wave and Chris couldn’t help but feel a little smug. That turned into slight irritation as Peter chimed in from where he was leaning against the wall near the door, “Yes, see you later Stiles.” Stiles rolled his eyes.
Left alone in the practice room, Peter slinked up to Chris with one of his sly smiles. “Well, well, well… It looks like someone is a bit more interested than he originally let on.”
“Stuff it Hale,” Chris replied, trying to get by him.
Peter snagged him, bringing their bodies flush. “Just tell me where sweetheart,” he purred.
Chris swore his eyes were going to roll out of his head one of these days. “Not during a production,” he scolded.
“No, I believe the rule is no intercourse during productions. That leaves many possibilities.” Peter smirked. “Which I believe we’ve explored before.”
Chris only sighed, pushing the man away. “I’m going to lunch. Are you coming?”
He would deny he smirked when he heard Peter follow. The man was anything if not predictable.
* * *
My mind may be wandering, but I confess...
Things progressed relatively smoothly. Stiles had made some new buddies in Derek and Allison. Even Lydia, who was playing Bombalurina and one of Allison’s friends, had started to hang out with them. Stiles appreciated her added snark to the group as it was hell being the only sassy one sometimes.
That afternoon at vocals they moved away from chorus work and broke into smaller groups that had solo pieces or duets. That meant Stiles wasn’t exactly required to stay, but he peeked in on a few people anyway.
Scott and Allison didn’t have vocals to work on but there was that short dance number that Talia herself was going over with them. Stiles wished his best friend luck- non-verbally- and wandered to the next group. He saw their Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer hard at work. Likewise Lydia and their Demeter, Erica, were practicing the vocals on Macavity .
He passed by another room that made him hesitate, hearing a very familiar rich tenor. Sure enough, there was Chris singing Old Deuteronomy , Peter sitting on one of the tables watching him with obvious affection. It was a look Stiles had seen on stage- along with heated lust- and even witnessed a few times now since they’d been working together. Especially since Chris had started to help him out with a few things, as Peter tended to lurk those days.
Peter’s equally beautiful voice joined in, twinning together perfectly. It echoed off the walls, enveloping the room in a presence . It was the only thing Stiles could think. Hearing them together, watching the way their eyes locked as they sang, it was all so intimate that Stiles almost felt like he was intruding.
Of course that would be when he got spotted. At least neither of them looked mad. If anything they looked pleased- Peter naturally more so with his broad grin; Chris was far more subtle about the whole thing. “Stiles,” Peter chirped, “come on in. No need to lurk in the door.”
Stiles scoffed. “Wouldn’t want to take your job, now would I?”
Peter chuckled and Chris commented, “Well he has you pegged.”
“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Stiles said, looking at Chris.
“You’re fine. I figured you would have escaped with Derek while you had the chance.”
“Nah. He and Isaac went to do…” Stiles fluttered his hand. “Well, I dunno what, and I really don’t want to.”
Isaac had started to make heart eyes at Derek. And while Derek was much more gruff, Stiles could see the way he gentled when Isaac was around. It was all a bit too mushy for Stiles’ tastes. Then again, it was less painful to watch than Scott following Allison around like the woman hung the moon and stars.
“Well then,” Peter suggested, “you can help me practice my Rum Tum Tugger routine next.”
“I think not. I’m staying in character for this one.” He crossed his arms over his chest pointedly.
“Focus Peter,” Chris scolded gently. “We need to have this down by tomorrow. We probably won’t get any other time to work on it. Talia’s gonna be having you work your routine and I only have a whole ensemble piece to lead. Not to mention the fight I have to rehearse with Deucalion.”
Peter scoffed. “That man is such an ass.” For Peter, Mr. Primadonna himself, to say that meant the guy was really a piece of work. From what Stiles knew about Deucalion, he was inclined to agree. The word in theatre circles was neither the Hale’s nor the Argent’s got on with him well, but Chris and Peter most of all.
Deucalion was playing Macavity. He and some of the other performers only there for one number hadn’t started with the rest of them. However as Talia said it, they would be joining them the following week.
“Yes,” Chris agreed flatly, “thank you for pointing out the obvious. So if you don’t mind…”
“Yeah, yeah… Keep your shirt on.” Peter leered. “Or don’t. We won’t mind, will we Stiles?” Stiles flushed. “In fact, since we’re all here, we can make it a party.” Stiles’ blush only deepened.
Chris saved Stiles coming up with a witty retort while his brain was melting by smacking Peter in the back of the head. “Focus.”
Stiles decided to take that advice as well and disappear while he still had the ability, making some half-assed excuse about giving them their space. This was going to be a long production.
* * *
The Rum Tum Tugger is a terrible bore.
They were moving right along, combining dance and vocals, getting the larger routines underway. Stiles was quite enjoying the Rum Tum Tugger rehearsals, even if his character wasn’t supposed to. It was only the girls and the young tom-cats like Scott and Isaac that worshipped the ground Tugger walked on. Mistoffelees was supposed to be bored, and thus he spent most of the routine up on the car trunk- which was just a table for the moment- with Derek. Although he did slink over to hang out a few times with Chris, who didn’t even have to feign exasperation.
“Talia,” Peter purposed while they were resetting for the second section, “why not have someone else trying to catch Tugger’s attention? I mean, when this one so obviously fails,” he jabbed his thumb over at Lydia who was meant to cozy up to him, “why not someone else?”
“Like?” she inquired, amusing her younger brother.
“Well Misto already plays hard to get.” Stiles’ head shot up as he about choked on his tongue.
Talia didn’t miss a beat. “He’s not playing hard to get Peter. He finds you to be, and I quote, ‘a terrible bore.’”
“But by the end of the Mistoffelees number we’re dancing together aren’t we? So he can’t truly find me that boring.”
Talia actually appeared to be entertaining the thought and Derek heaved a sigh next to Stiles and rolled his eyes. “Here we go again,” he complained, falling back onto the table. “He has to overcomplicate everything and go changing the script.”
Peter wasn’t done yet though. “Or maybe Munk? He’s not doing anything at the moment.”
It was Chris’ turn to scoff. “I do need a break you know. And need I remind you Munk and Tugger are brothers ?”
“And who the hell besides you actually knows that?” Peter shot back. At least half the cast raised their hands. Stiles and Derek totally had no clue but raised them anyway just to fuck with him. Peter grunted, “Smartasses.”
Talia tutted. “Just do the damn routine like it’s written Peter. Your ego doesn’t need petting anymore.”
Stiles snickered, naturally drawing Peter’s attention. He gave Stiles a meaningful, heated look as he got close enough to drop his voice into something silken. “I wouldn’t mind a petting from someone though.” Peter threw a look to Chris before walking to center stage with a little more swagger in his hips.
“I’m so fucked.”
Stiles hadn’t realized he spoke aloud until Derek replied, “I need a brain scrub now.”
Stiles smacked his thigh in retaliation.
* * *
He can creep through the tiniest crack; he can walk on the narrowest rail.
“Gah, damnit .” Stiles growled when he messed up the transition. “It’s not that freakin’ hard Stiles. Get it together,” he muttered to himself.
He reset and tried again, that time moving through the transition and then completely botching the jette that followed. “For fuck’s sake!” Stiles curled his fingers into his hair.
“I think you’ve been at it too long,” a voice offered from the doorway. Stiles turned to find Chris, who curled his lips up briefly. “I figured you would have gone home already,” he continued, coming into the deserted practice room.
“Yeah, well, I wanted to get this right and all I keep doing is fucking it up.” He sighed, grabbing his water bottle. He checked the time on his phone and cursed. “Is it seriously seven already?”
“Yeah, Deucalion and I just finished practicing that fight.”
Stiles grinned impishly. “I’m sure you had fun.” He’d watched the sparks fly when Deucalion showed up on the scene earlier that week. If Chris had the ability to shoot fire out of his eyes, Stiles figured it would have happened then and there. Peter hadn’t been much better; he was just able to hide his irritation easier.
“Derek and I both in fact.” Stiles grinned. He had almost forgotten that once Munkustrap went down against the infamous Macavity that it was Alonzo that stepped in to wound the cat before others jumped in to run him off.
“Yeah, well…” Stiles sighed, forcing himself back out onto the floor. “Guess it’s back to work for me.”
“I can give you a hand if you want,” Chris offered.
“I don’t wanna keep you longer.” Stiles sucked in a startled breath when Chris’ body pressed up behind his.
“I don’t mind Stiles. Really.”
“Well, um,” Stiles licked his lips, “yeah, sure then. If you want.”
Stiles was a perfectionist at the best of times and given that this was his solo number he wanted everything to be that much more on point. He was a technically sound dancer, he knew. It was his strength. So when his toes weren’t pointed right, or the height of a kick not high enough, he beat himself up over it.
Chris ran his hand down Stiles’ arm, smiling at the little shiver it caused and the goosebumps left in its wake. He admired a lot about Stiles- his looks, his humor, his wit- and dedication to their craft was certainly on that list. He and Peter both agreed that the young man was an amazingly talented dancer, and they had no problem seeing how he got the role of Mistoffelees.
“I’m not getting enough extension on my jumps, my feet won’t do anything I tell them to, and I can’t get anything to flow. I mean, how hard is a pas de bourree into a chasse leap? But I can’t get enough lift. And that’s if my feet even manage to get the first part right!”
Chris was glad to be standing behind Stiles where the younger man couldn’t see the slight grin. “Relax,” Chris encouraged, rubbing his shoulders. “The whole tripping up thing is all because you’re getting frustrated. So how about instead we look at why you’re not getting lift.”
Taking a deep breath, Stiles nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.”
It turned out to be a simple solution- adding an extra step before the leap to give just that bit of extra momentum while also allowing Stiles to leap off his strong leg. Stiles felt like an idiot but Chris just smiled gently at him and patted his back. “It happens to all of us Stiles. And usually it’s caused by overworking it. No need to stress yourself out so early in the game. It’ll come together.”
“We have three weeks,” Stiles reminded.
“Plenty of time. Trust me.”
Chris’ warm smile made Stiles believe him so he simply nodded once. Then without thinking too much on it, he pressed himself into Chris’ side and nuzzled his face into his neck. Chris only hesitated a moment before wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist and pulling him closer.
“Come on,” Chris said gently after a few moments like that. “It’s getting late. Let’s call it a night, hm?”
“Yeah alright,” Stiles agreed, though he didn’t let go of Chris. Not that Chris had the heart to tell him to anyway.
* * *
I only like what I find for myself.
“Well don’t you look delicious,” Peter commented with a purr, coming up behind Stiles. They were trying on their costumes and make-up for the first time and Stiles had just come out in his. He was rather glad he got over his insecurity about his body after high school given that he- and everyone else- was wearing skin tight leotards and leggings.
“You are such a creeper cat,” Stiles replied, turning and grabbing the ruff Peter wore around his neck and giving it a tug.
Peter chuckled, giving Stiles a genuine smile that lit up those bright blue eyes. It was enough to make Stiles freeze a moment before smiling back.
“Is my tail on straight?” Both men turned to find Chris had come out from changing as well, the grey and black-striped costume fitting to him like a second skin. He was twisted around trying to see his tail, consulting Derek of all people.
“You’re good,” Derek confirmed, passing by to get into his own costume then.
“More than good,” Stiles commented.
“Mmhmm,” Peter agreed.
Chris had heard them, giving them both a look that said to behave before sauntering off to the make-up stations.
“What a tease,” Stiles grumbled.
“I agree. Not very nice at all.”
“As though you’re much better,” Stiles shot back, but there was mischief in his eyes all the same.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter feigned innocence and started to walk off, only to have his tail tugged.
“That actually reminds me,” Stiles mentioned, “I wanted to ask you something about Chris. Well, you and Chris.” Peter raised a curious brow. “Look, I know the two of you are together, and you’ve both made it rather obvious that you wouldn’t mind me joining the party- either together or separate. Which I’m cool with by the way.”
Peter’s grin turned into that coy, cocky expression of his and Stiles rolled his eyes.
“ But I’m not exactly a ‘no strings attached’ kinda guy.”
Peter frowned. “It’s not that I’m opposed to the idea in general. I’ve just always prefered to keep things casual.”
“But?”
“But,” Peter conceded, “I’ve been wanting to make things more serious between Chris and I for a long time now.”
“So why don’t you tell him that?”
“Because he doesn’t want that.” It was the first time Stiles saw the man look unsure. “After his divorce he made it clear he didn’t want another committed relationship. He thinks it will only fail.”
Stiles frowned, looking off to where he could barely see Chris through all the cast milling about, his make-up being worked on by Lydia. “Have you told him this?” He looked back to Petter. The frown on his face said everything. “Well then, I guess we’ll just have to show him how serious we are.”
Peter grinned then. “I do love the way you think.” He leaned in and dropped a kiss on top of Stiles’ head. “My devious little minx.” Peter laughed as he dodged Stiles’ swat, though Stiles himself was laughing.
“I can’t believe I actually fell for that man.”
* * *
Was there ever a cat so clever?
Everyone was pretty much in their own heads as the time for the house lights to go down drew ever closer. Everyone had their own method of coping with the butterflies- focusing on their make-up, going over some steps in a routine, sitting off alone to try and center, or humming through a tune.
Stiles was jittery. It was far from his first show but nothing topped a production on Broadway. At least he wasn’t the only one feeling the nerves. Even Derek and Allison were tense. Allison was distracting herself with warm-ups and chatting to Scott, while Derek chose to focus on calming Isaac down, who was curled up in Derek’s lap, wrapped around him like an octopus.
“I’ll grab a pry bar,” Stiles offered, the corner of his mouth turned up. Derek mirrored the expression but then his face softened as he looked back down at Isaac.
“Nah,” he answered fondly, “I’m good.”
“God you all are sickening,” Stiles muttered, though there was no true heat behind it. He was happy both of his friends were happy, that they’d found someone to care about. Speaking of…
He spotted Chris first, sitting at one of the make-up stations, touching things up. “Does thinking you look really attractive like that make me perverted?” Stiles inquired, looking over Chris’ shoulder to meet his gaze in the mirror.
“Maybe just a little weird,” Chris answered with an amused smile.
“Didn’t mean to bother you,” Stiles said, reaching out to run his hands down Chris’ arms. “I just wanted to tell you you’re wonderful and you’ll do great.” He gave Chris a little smile, squeezing his arms before walking off.
“Stiles,” Chris called. He looked back to find Chris had a conflicted look on his face. Finally he said, “Break a leg.”
Stiles gave him a little smile and nod.
It was Peter that found him. “Lurking in the shadows again creeper cat?” Stiles teased when Peter’s arms wrapped around him.
“I like to stay by myself before a show starts.” He gave Stiles a squeeze. “But you were looking irresistible. I couldn’t help myself.” He pressed his lips to the back of Stiles’ neck, smiling against his skin when the younger man shivered.
“Everything ready for tonight?” Stiles asked, ignoring the growing heat in his belly. He didn’t need to have a boner going out on stage.
“All set,” Peter confirmed. He turned Stiles around, giving him a warm smile. “Now, you just focus on being amazing.”
“Heh, now that’s hilarious. You really ought to-”
Stiles was cut off by a kiss. It wasn’t their first. No, that had happened after the first dress rehearsal when they had decided they wanted to give this thing of theirs a go, when they decided they needed to show Chris how much they needed him too. Not that things had progressed any further than that as Stiles had insisted on waiting for Chris.
Peter told Stiles all about Chris’ rules in regards to sex during production. Stiles couldn’t help but agree it was probably the smart thing to do. Trying to dance while sore from sex didn’t sound like a fun experience, nor did the thought of potential pulling something in the process. He did not want to be the one explaining to Talia why they couldn’t perform.
Besides, there were plenty of other things they could get up to in the meantime. But that was only if Chris agreed. Peter, for all his usual confidence, wasn’t so sure the man was about to change his mind on their relationship. Stiles however had a feeling Chris could be made to see reason.
“If I have to redo this damn make-up…” Stiles threatened. Peter only smirked and tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth. Stiles batted him away. “Go back to your dark corner creeper cat. Break a leg.” He gave Peter one last kiss, going off to warm up until they got the call.
* * *
Oh well, I never!
They received a standing ovation and most of them couldn’t stop smiling. Everyone was milling about backstage excitedly, the energy from their first show electric. As they talked about the cast party they were all off to once they got out of their costumes, Chris focused on getting off the heavy amount of make-up, lamenting having to put it on all over again the next night.
“Hey Dad,” Allison spoke, coming up next to him. Her face was already cleaned off but she hadn’t removed her costume yet. “This was delivered for you. The stage hands were handing them out.” She gave him a hug, telling him, “You were great.”
“So were you sweetheart.” He kissed her temple, smiling as she went off to change. That left him alone with the beautiful floral arrangement of red roses.
It wasn’t unusual for flowers to be delivered to cast members on an opening night. Most would come from attendees but not everyone could be there in person. Chris had to wonder who they would be from though.
Plucking out the card, he found it only had his name with two hearts underneath. His brows furrowed. “Who in the hell…?”
“Lovely flowers,” Peter spoke behind him, making him jump a little. He and Stiles were standing there, already changed out into street clothes.
“Not really a roses guy myself,” Stiles added, “but they work.”
They were both smiling at him in the mirror and Chris’ jaw dropped as he realized who the flowers were from. “You…? Why?”
“Because we care about you,” Stiles replied, “duh.”
“Christopher,” Peter said, expression serious, “I’m tired of dancing around this. I love you. And I want to be with you.” He bent closer. “Just you.” Stiles cleared his throat. “Alright, and with the little shit too.”
“Hey!” Stiles smacked him in the arm. “You love me, you bastard.”
“Yes I do,” Peter admitted sincerely, Stiles visibly melting just a little bit.
Chris couldn’t believe either of them wanted to make such a commitment with him, let alone the both of them. Sure, he and Peter had their fun over the years, and he had entertained the idea of doing the same with Stiles, but what they were asking for was something entirely different.
“You’re serious,” he said to Peter, twisting in his chair to face him.
“I have been for a long time. I just never thought you would want to take a chance like that again. You made it fairly clear in fact.”
“I didn’t want to, but…” Chris sighed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you got in under the radar somehow.” He looked over at Stiles, some amusement returning. “Or you .”
“Hey,” Stiles defended, “nobody can resist me.”
Peter smirked. “I believe it.” Sobering, to Chris he asked, “So what do you say?”
“Think you can keep up old man?” Stiles prodded.
“Oh, I’ll show you old man,” Chris answered, surging from his chair and grabbing hold of Stiles, making him squeak as he was lifted off his feet.
Stiles wrapped his legs around Chris’ waist automatically, planting a kiss on the man’s lips. Pulling away, he found Chris smiling, though it was wiped away when Peter moved in for a kiss of his own with Chris. “It’s settled then,” Peter said assuredly, Chris nodding before leaning in for another kiss.
“Sooo we’re skipping the party, right?” Stiles inquired, biting his lower lip as he watched the two.
Chris’ smile was sly. “I believe Peter’s place is closest.”
/End