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SUNDAY BRUNCHES ARE one of the things that Paul tries to keep constant in his increasingly hectic schedule. Alex has long since stopped going regularly for a variety of reasons, including wanting more time for climbing and Gemma and way less time with Brian. But Paul still likes to put in an appearance when he can. Also, Shawna harasses him constantly via text about it. Mostly he enjoys them. This week, there’s an odd sort of bittersweetness when Craig is there with Beau and his new boyfriend.
On his way out of the restaurant, Paul’s phone chimes. It’s from Alex, a picture from the top of whatever giant rock he’s decided needs climbing today.
On top of the world, it says. Wish you were here.
Paul smiles as he types back, If I were there you’d be only halfway up the mountain.
He climbs with Alex occasionally, but he’s not as good on the rocks and usually ends up slowing them down. It drives Alex — who always pushes for higher, faster, scarier — nuts.
I’d get to watch you from up here. Great views.
Paul chuckles. Just come home in one piece. Then you can enjoy the views all you want.
I always do.
* * *
ALEX GETS HOME NOT long after Paul, happy and relaxed as he usually is after a climb. Paul decides he has plenty of time to take Alex back to bed before he has to get started on work for the day.
After, Paul gets his laptop and sits in the armchair with his feet on the bed, going through his email. Alex sits against the pillows working his way through a new set of knots he’s learning for climbing. Todd, who crept in earlier when they had been distracted and now refuses to be dislodged, sits on the open book next to him, eyes fixed on the rope in Alex’s hands and his tail twitching.
Paul watches them both. Quiet moments like this are always precious in their lives, and they don’t get enough of them.
Eventually he asks, “Do you want to stay for the party next week?”
He hopes Alex will say yes. Thanking the pilot team and getting everyone ready for the upcoming half-season — and the hoped-for full-season order — means a get-together. This time Paul isn’t acting as a proxy for Victor in keeping a team human: This is his team. While Paul has never had Alex’s uneasiness in crowds, things are easier with him by his side. Plus, Paul wants to share this moment of triumph of bringing the Winsome team together in their house.
Alex considers for a moment, then looks up from his knots. “No,” he says. “It’s your empire, not ours.”
Paul supposes the decision makes sense. Alex draws focus in any room he’s in, and, aside from living with the showrunner, he has nothing to do with Winsome. It’s just one more part of the ongoing conversation of how much they are willing to let their professional and their personal lives overlap. As much as Paul knows that this is how the business works — and how much it benefits neither of them to be seen as f*****g their way to relevance — he still wishes he could have Alex next to him for everything.
But he knows — and has always known — that is never going to be the case. So he says, “All right,” and stands so he can lean over and kiss him.
Alex kisses him back and goes returns his knots.
* * *
THE NIGHT OF THE PARTY, Alex vanishes to go out with Gemma, and Paul hosts his people, crew and actors alike. Because of the nature of Winsome and all its drama about the desires of the aggressively average-at-best, the divide between the two is less obvious than it could be.
Victor had opted out from the party, throwing his hands up and repeating minority partner yet again. Then he gave Paul some good advice and reminded him that in this, Paul is his boss and not the other way around. Besides, Victor said, he has plans. From the look of his shark smile, Paul could only assume that meant Liam, or making some poor Fourth writer’s life hell.
Paul thinks his cast is obscenely talented, completely gorgeous, and real in a way that’s brave and often difficult in L.A. Looking at Ruth and Terry and Annette, it’s obvious to him that they’re stronger than him and all his compulsive exercise. All the charisma in the world doesn’t change the deep lines and sad eyes that are just the shape of Ruth’s face; Terry’s beer gut is completely non-optional; and Annette may be the prettiest of them, but Paul’s seen her resume. He knows the sort of roles Hollywood makes black women play. In a way, Winsome’s no better for her, but he’s trying. At least everyone on his show is a w***e.
Darcy is the room’s one traditional beauty. As she bounces around the event, her blonde curls flying and her green eyes sparkling, it’s obvious to Paul and probably everyone else that she knows it and thinks it a moral good. Sometimes he worries that she has a crush on him, but mostly he knows it must be hard to be eighteen in L.A. and career-oriented and successful as opposed to party-happy and insane. Paul likes her, but she makes him nervous in a way oddly not dissimilar to Liam. He assumes it’s the child star thing.
When he’s not playing good host and Darcy isn’t trailing along in his wake, he hangs out with Ruth, whose soothing, not-unkind deadpan is decent at settling him in Alex’s absence.
Ultimately, it’s a long night but a good one, and at many points Paul looks around the room and remembers the first pilot party he ever went to, hosted by Victor. So many things started that night for all of them. He wonders what things are beginning now.
* * *
PAUL’S STANDING AT the sink rinsing out dishes, the house finally empty and quiet around him, when Paul hears Alex’s key in the lock.
“Hey, you,” Alex breathes in his ear as he slides his arms around Paul’s waist.
“Hey.” Paul leans back against him and sets the down dish he’s holding. Alex is hot-skinned and a little sweaty from wherever he’d gone with Gemma. He’s irresistible.
“Mhmm,” Alex presses his face into Paul’s shoulder, his damp hair rubbing against Paul’s cheek. “Missed you.”
“Missed you too,” Paul says. Alex has his hands on his hips swaying them both, and it’s hard to think of anything but him.
“How was your party?”
“Mm.” Paul turns around into Alex’s arms and rests their foreheads together. “A resounding success. Everyone has been thanked and now hopefully feels appreciated.”
“I’m sure they do,” Alex says.
Paul groans. Alex wrapped around him like this shorts out everything else in his brain. “I want to take you to bed.”
“How traditional.” Alex bites his ear.
“f**k, you want it,” Paul breathes.
“I want you,” Alex breathes as he walks them towards and then up the stairs.
When they get to the door of their bedroom Paul grabs his face and kisses him. Some traditions are damn well worth keeping.
- Writer
