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Jan. 13th, 2006 11:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apocalypsosI, uh, found this on my doorstep. The slash RPS fairy brought it to my front door and left it on the mat. Yeah, that's the ticket.
Title: It's Always The Quiet Ones
Author: Definitely without a doubt NOT![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
trollprincess. Nope. No, sirree.
Fandom: Project Runway
Pairing: Daniel V./Andrae
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not my show, not my people, not reality at ALL.
Author's note: This is alliphignia939's fault. Not in a blaming way, but because if she had absolutely, most definitely not expressed an interest in writing Daniel/Andrae, too (and she'd better write it, too ... I'm just saying), I wouldn't have thought it was perfectly acceptable to ... erm, not do this. Mmm-hmm. (Also, excuse me for any wonkiness in the timeline. I'm not exactly sure when everything happened on the show, obviously, so I tried to make it work as best I could.)
Distribution: DO NOT DISTRIBUTE THIS STORY, not in its entirety, and especially not without my express permission. Which you won't be getting even if you ask, so don't bother. (Don't mind the pissiness.)
It's Always The Quiet Ones
*****
As soon as they move into the Atlas, Nick is pretty sure Andrae and Daniel are fucking.
Which is pretty funny in retrospect, because they don't even get a chance to start up until the Nicky Hilton challenge.
So, yeah. Nick? Totally off the mark on that one.
*****
The list gets compiled on the blackboard in the boys' apartment after they get back from the "Clothes Off Your Back" challenge, somewhere between the time they all start drinking and the time Daniel wakes up in the morning to the sound of Nick's laughter coming from the kitchen.
"When the hell did we write this?" he calls out, and a moment later, he can hear Nick mutter something as if reading aloud that sounds distinctly like "do not cry on national TV."
Daniel can almost feel Andrae turning red from across the apartment and wonders as he gets up if Andrae has opted for giving off heat rather than nervous energy.
*****
Daniel wouldn't exactly call what Andrae is on an emotional roller coaster. An emotional amusement park, maybe. Andrae's like that, on some sort of wild mood swing you have to learn to duck to put up with. The amusement park analogy's pretty apt, because Daniel pictures it like trying to make a flying leap onto that spinning swing set thing, like running to catch up while grasping for the chains and getting lucky if you don't get your palms torn up grabbing onto it in the process.
Santino makes this crack during the Barbie challenge when the cameras are focused elsewhere that Franco's acting like "a fucking overexcited cocker spaniel puppy or something," and the image is terrifyingly apt and sticks in Daniel's mind for about an hour.
Until he catches a glimpse of Andrae coming back from his talk with Tim looking a little shaken and Daniel realizes that Andrae reminds him of a nervous, shivering chihuahua.
Andrae, Daniel decides, really needs to get laid.
Not by him, of course. But still.
*****
Andrae has come in with one of the lowest scores in two challenges already.
When Daniel gets to choose first during the lingerie challenge, he hears himself say, "I choose Andrae."
Oh, he doesn't really want to think about why he just did that.
*****
Zulema is a bossy pain in the ass, Andrae can be a complete and total spazz, and Daniel could manage to be perfectly mellow sitting in the middle of Filene's Basement during the start of the wedding dress sale. How the hell they manage to make a good team -- and win, for fuck's sake -- is totally beyond Daniel.
He wonders briefly as they're hugging the models backstage if he's started giving off some weird calming pheremone or something, and then he's hugging Andrae and thinking about pheremones and decides that it is most definitely time to start the post-challenge drinking binge.
*****
"Andrae, my friend?"
"Yes, Daniel, my friend?" Andrae slurs his words slightly and swirls his bottle of beer through the air with a roll of his eyes. Drunken Andrae is constantly in motion, always with the slightly-more-melodramatic-than-usual hand gestures and facial expressions. Daniel stopped finding it weird and started finding it a little endearing a while ago.
It's like overemotional dancing, in a way. He's been dancing for eight years. He can get into dancing.
Daniel picks up his beer. The cool glass against his palm reminds him briefly of the press of a metal chain against his hand in the playground, and he decides to ignore it. "How drunk are we?" he asks.
Andrae isn't in any condition to answer. But they're both sitting right next to one another in one of the booths watching Chloe and Nick goof off on the dance floor, Daniel's thigh pressed against Andrae's knee, Andrae's shoulder against Daniel's arm, and Daniel's only taken aback a little when he feels the weight of Andrae's head leaning on his shoulder.
"This drunk, I think," Andrae says.
"Oh," Daniel says, then takes another sip of his beer before saying, "Okay. Just checking."
*****
Going back to the Atlas suite isn't something either one of them is looking forward to, because Nick might be okay after nearly losing the lingerie challenge but being in the same apartment as Santino -- already a trial to live with at the best of times and impossible to live with at the worst -- will feel like some sort of punishment for winning. "Congratulations! Daniel and Andrae, you've won the lingerie challenge. Your prize will be to wake up very hung over the morning after sharing an apartment with a snarling rabid wolverine."
Emmett's suite is Andrae's suggestion.
"Daniel Franco's already packed and gone, or at least he's supposed to be," he points out, although the slur's gotten worse and the arm gestures are getting so dramatic Daniel may get an eye poked out at this rate. Andrae leans back against the door of the cab they're sharing and narrows his eyes. "And even if he isn't, you can always share Raymundo's bed with me. I promise not to do anything we'll regret in the morning."
Andrae gives Daniel this smile, soft and hazy and secretive, and Daniel's almost disappointed when Franco's bed is empty.
*****
Daniel has already decided the shorts are killing him by the time the Nicky Hilton challenge comes around.
It's not that they're attractive. They're not. Daniel doesn't know how Andrae can be a really good designer and yet somehow still bring himself to wear the goddamn shorts all the time. The T-shirts with the cutoff sleeves, he gets, although he definitely thinks if Andrae's going to do that, he needs tighter shirts. The baggy shirts make his arms look like pink pipe cleaners, and Andrae's arms actually look really good for someone as skinny as he is. Not that Daniel should be critiquing anybody for looking skinny, but still.
The shorts, though. Jesus.
It's not that they're attractive, no. It's that they're ugly and look funny, and Daniel desperately wants to get them off so that he can blow them up or set them on fire or something, and what's he left with then?
Andrae, not wearing pants.
Andrae really needs to stop wearing those damn shorts when the cameras are around, is what Daniel's thinking, if only to save Daniel from making that face on national television.
*****
The party at Marquee is a blast of nervous energy from the moment the liquor starts pouring, which is pretty much immediately. There's a brief tense moment where all of the designers stare at Nicky Hilton like she's naked or an alien or something, and then the next thing anyone knows, Daniel's leading Rebecca up to Nicky with that calmly confident smile of his. It's like he doesn't even remember having the wrong fabric for the dress, being serene and stressed all at once the way only he seems to be able to pull off.
He shows off the dress and Rebecca and his quietly charming "I'm going to be a designer when I grow up" way of speaking about the whole thing, and when he's done and the two of them walk away, he exhales a little too deeply, eliciting a soft smile and a quick touch on the arm from Rebecca.
"Feeling better?" she asks.
His smile slips easily onto his face. "Oh, yeah. Now I've got the rest of the night to drink."
She laughs at that and wanders off.
When Daniel turns around, he catches a glimpse of Andrae staring at him just long enough for Nick to sneak in and get to Nicky Hilton before he can. Andrae flinches as if shocked, then downs another gulp of his drink before leading Danyelle over to Nicky's side in the gorgeous jersey dress he's designed.
Oh, yeah, Daniel thinks, there had better be some more alcohol around here with his name on it.
*****
It's Nick's idea to do the walk-off, of course, because they're all really drunk and all of their inhibitions took a cab back to the Atlas a while ago. Daniel wouldn't be surprised if the whole thing degenerated into a group striptease following by a sloppy orgy in the middle of the dance floor, although he's pretty sure somebody is bound to konk Santino over the head, toss him into a cab, and wake him up the next morning with the news he'd slept with all of them rather than alone on the floor of the suite just to see the look on his face without actually fucking him.
The designers huddle in the back, laughing and boozy and half out of it as a group, and out in the bar the models whistle and catcall when they're not dissolving into fits of giggles. Daniel has a vague awareness of Santino strutting wildly into the bar with arms swinging and high heels clacking against the floor, of Chloe walking purposefully out like the world's tiniest supermodel, of Lupe either doing the caterpillar or writhing on the floor in a fit (it could go either way).
Andrae walks out before him, he thinks, or after him, or ... hell, he can't remember. All he knows for sure is that Andrae's out there when it's his turn, and he can't stop fucking staring at the guy.
When he finally does get to come out, he can't really pull off Nick's swagger or Chloe's determined strut, but he can strip. Hell, who can't, right? Especially when they're as far gone as he is. And Andrae stares at him -- one shirt button opened, two, and then three -- and somewhere in between the clapping and whistles of the models, Daniel sees Andrae's eyes glaze over with something that probably doesn't have a damn thing to do with the booze.
Later on, when he's pressing Andrae against a wall in the bathroom and kissing him while Andrae's hands fumble with his belt, Daniel thinks, Oh, I am really going to regret this in the morning, aren't I?
And yeah ... yeah, he kind of does. Because Nick, even when he's hung over and exhausted from dancing and trying to make himself look like a million dollars for the runway show, does not know when the hell to shut up.
*****
"Ooo. What's that smile for, Andrae? Get lucky last night?"
Bleary-eyed and out of it, Daniel chokes on his coffee, and tries not to look too guilty when Nick gives him a knowing look.
Well, hell. At least it's not Santino.
*****
Nick brushes past him after Daniel's done telling the hairdresser his whole mojitos-on-the-beach idea, and he gives Daniel this teasing smile and says, "So, going out for the post-challenge bar hopping tonight? Or are we staying in?" He might not wink, but damn it if he doesn't look like he wants to.
Ever the calm, collected one, Daniel manages not to grimace and wonders if Andrae is getting it just as bad somewhere else at Parsons right now.
*****
It's not like it's a case of "It got weird, didn't it?" the day after, because really, it didn't. It's not weird when they wait until the cameras are pointed elsewhere to flash each other the briefest of smiles, and it's not weird when they have to stay as serious as possible while they're working their asses off for the Nicky Hilton runway show.
Okay, it's a little weird when Nick almost visibly swallows his pride after the runway show, slaps a smug Santino on the back, and says, "Hey, big guy, how about we go out and celebrate just how much Nicky Hilton fucking loves you?"
But Daniel's not thinking about it after he and Andrae decline to go and hang back in the apartment after they leave, because it's definitely not weird when Andrae is doing that thing with his tongue.
*****
"You'll be working in teams of two," Tim Gunn tells them before the next challenge, and damn it if Andrae doesn't bound over to Daniel's side with that big, dopey grin on his face.
If Daniel spends the rest of the challenge quietly thrilled that they get along better than everybody else in the room, he does a good job of not showing it.
There's no such thing as an argument between them, which is just strange. Andrae's gone from wild mood swings and the occasional badly timed crying jag to spending most of his time almost as easygoing as Daniel, like sometime in the middle of all of the sex, something rubbed off. Not that he'll ever be at Daniel's level -- Nick once made a crack about Daniel being so laidback he was practically horizontal, and Daniel couldn't argue that -- but he's definitely mellowed.
Zulema keeps badgering Kara to the point of tears, and Daniel goes over to give Kara a quick kiss on the cheek, and the next time he sees Andrae, he gives a Daniel a grateful look that says, That was quite possibly the sweetest thing you've done since the start of the show.
Now, that's weird, how Andrae's facial expressions are suddenly speaking in complete sentences.
*****
They win.
Correction ... they win again.
They hug on the runway when they do, all pent up with excitement at the thought of their dress hanging on racks at Banana Republics everywhere. Backstage, in front of the models neither one of them has to live with and the cameramen who suddenly decides to film something else, Daniel grabs onto Andrae and pulls him towards him for a deep, satisfying kiss, Andrae's arms stealing around his waist.
Oh, yeah, that's definitely not going to get shown on Bravo.
*****
That night, Nick talks like he's going to just die, probably in his sleep after being smothered with a pillow by Santino. Not that they think Santino's that out of his mind -- reality television show cameras add fifteen pounds and a desperate need for a Prozac prescription to your frame. Hell, Santino's crazy, and he's mostly just biting himself in the ass with his fucking arrogance, but he's not that awful day-to-day.
But he's going to be impossible to pry from the apartment after being glued to the kitchen floor for the rest of the night in pure, unadulterated sulkiness, so Nick goes straight to Emmett and tells him Santino is going to glue stickers to his forehead and freeze his bra like at a fucking sleepover party.
Emmett, in all of his stoic restraint, offers to let Nick stay in one of his extra beds, and Nick expects that, waving him off like an expert. "Oh, don't worry about me," he says, then slips his arm through Emmett's and flashes him that brilliant, charming smile of his and says, "Take me out and get me wasted. If anything on the planet will help me put up with that asshole, it's an enormous amount of alcohol."
Emmett really has to think something's up when Nick convinces him to give the keys to his suite to Daniel, but then again, Nick can sway anyone to his cause if he really wants to.
Daniel and Andrae can't stop laughing, because over in their apartment Santino is stomping around the place like a six-foot toddler and here they are in Emmett's suite fucking each other all over the goddamn place. Something about the whole thing is hysterically funny, because Santino's too busy acting like a spoiled brat to get lucky during the show and Nick's distracting everyone like he's living vicariously through their sex life or something. But none of it matters, really, because they've got two hours before Emmett and Nick come back and there's a time limit on how many places they can utterly defile in Emmett's suite.
Afterwards when they're staggering exhausted and smiling back to their suite, Andrae leans into him just the right way, slipping an arm around his neck and pressing his lips against the skin right above the collar of Daniel's T-shirt.
Daniel closes his eyes and tries desperately not to wish that Emmett gets eliminated next challenge.
*****
EDIT: She did do it! And right before I did! *dies giggling*
Title: It's Always The Quiet Ones
Author: Definitely without a doubt NOT
trollprincess. Nope. No, sirree. Fandom: Project Runway
Pairing: Daniel V./Andrae
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not my show, not my people, not reality at ALL.
Author's note: This is all
iphignia939's fault. Not in a blaming way, but because if she had absolutely, most definitely not expressed an interest in writing Daniel/Andrae, too (and she'd better write it, too ... I'm just saying), I wouldn't have thought it was perfectly acceptable to ... erm, not do this. Mmm-hmm. (Also, excuse me for any wonkiness in the timeline. I'm not exactly sure when everything happened on the show, obviously, so I tried to make it work as best I could.)Distribution: DO NOT DISTRIBUTE THIS STORY, not in its entirety, and especially not without my express permission. Which you won't be getting even if you ask, so don't bother. (Don't mind the pissiness.)
*****
As soon as they move into the Atlas, Nick is pretty sure Andrae and Daniel are fucking.
Which is pretty funny in retrospect, because they don't even get a chance to start up until the Nicky Hilton challenge.
So, yeah. Nick? Totally off the mark on that one.
*****
The list gets compiled on the blackboard in the boys' apartment after they get back from the "Clothes Off Your Back" challenge, somewhere between the time they all start drinking and the time Daniel wakes up in the morning to the sound of Nick's laughter coming from the kitchen.
"When the hell did we write this?" he calls out, and a moment later, he can hear Nick mutter something as if reading aloud that sounds distinctly like "do not cry on national TV."
Daniel can almost feel Andrae turning red from across the apartment and wonders as he gets up if Andrae has opted for giving off heat rather than nervous energy.
*****
Daniel wouldn't exactly call what Andrae is on an emotional roller coaster. An emotional amusement park, maybe. Andrae's like that, on some sort of wild mood swing you have to learn to duck to put up with. The amusement park analogy's pretty apt, because Daniel pictures it like trying to make a flying leap onto that spinning swing set thing, like running to catch up while grasping for the chains and getting lucky if you don't get your palms torn up grabbing onto it in the process.
Santino makes this crack during the Barbie challenge when the cameras are focused elsewhere that Franco's acting like "a fucking overexcited cocker spaniel puppy or something," and the image is terrifyingly apt and sticks in Daniel's mind for about an hour.
Until he catches a glimpse of Andrae coming back from his talk with Tim looking a little shaken and Daniel realizes that Andrae reminds him of a nervous, shivering chihuahua.
Andrae, Daniel decides, really needs to get laid.
Not by him, of course. But still.
*****
Andrae has come in with one of the lowest scores in two challenges already.
When Daniel gets to choose first during the lingerie challenge, he hears himself say, "I choose Andrae."
Oh, he doesn't really want to think about why he just did that.
*****
Zulema is a bossy pain in the ass, Andrae can be a complete and total spazz, and Daniel could manage to be perfectly mellow sitting in the middle of Filene's Basement during the start of the wedding dress sale. How the hell they manage to make a good team -- and win, for fuck's sake -- is totally beyond Daniel.
He wonders briefly as they're hugging the models backstage if he's started giving off some weird calming pheremone or something, and then he's hugging Andrae and thinking about pheremones and decides that it is most definitely time to start the post-challenge drinking binge.
*****
"Andrae, my friend?"
"Yes, Daniel, my friend?" Andrae slurs his words slightly and swirls his bottle of beer through the air with a roll of his eyes. Drunken Andrae is constantly in motion, always with the slightly-more-melodramatic-than-usual hand gestures and facial expressions. Daniel stopped finding it weird and started finding it a little endearing a while ago.
It's like overemotional dancing, in a way. He's been dancing for eight years. He can get into dancing.
Daniel picks up his beer. The cool glass against his palm reminds him briefly of the press of a metal chain against his hand in the playground, and he decides to ignore it. "How drunk are we?" he asks.
Andrae isn't in any condition to answer. But they're both sitting right next to one another in one of the booths watching Chloe and Nick goof off on the dance floor, Daniel's thigh pressed against Andrae's knee, Andrae's shoulder against Daniel's arm, and Daniel's only taken aback a little when he feels the weight of Andrae's head leaning on his shoulder.
"This drunk, I think," Andrae says.
"Oh," Daniel says, then takes another sip of his beer before saying, "Okay. Just checking."
*****
Going back to the Atlas suite isn't something either one of them is looking forward to, because Nick might be okay after nearly losing the lingerie challenge but being in the same apartment as Santino -- already a trial to live with at the best of times and impossible to live with at the worst -- will feel like some sort of punishment for winning. "Congratulations! Daniel and Andrae, you've won the lingerie challenge. Your prize will be to wake up very hung over the morning after sharing an apartment with a snarling rabid wolverine."
Emmett's suite is Andrae's suggestion.
"Daniel Franco's already packed and gone, or at least he's supposed to be," he points out, although the slur's gotten worse and the arm gestures are getting so dramatic Daniel may get an eye poked out at this rate. Andrae leans back against the door of the cab they're sharing and narrows his eyes. "And even if he isn't, you can always share Raymundo's bed with me. I promise not to do anything we'll regret in the morning."
Andrae gives Daniel this smile, soft and hazy and secretive, and Daniel's almost disappointed when Franco's bed is empty.
*****
Daniel has already decided the shorts are killing him by the time the Nicky Hilton challenge comes around.
It's not that they're attractive. They're not. Daniel doesn't know how Andrae can be a really good designer and yet somehow still bring himself to wear the goddamn shorts all the time. The T-shirts with the cutoff sleeves, he gets, although he definitely thinks if Andrae's going to do that, he needs tighter shirts. The baggy shirts make his arms look like pink pipe cleaners, and Andrae's arms actually look really good for someone as skinny as he is. Not that Daniel should be critiquing anybody for looking skinny, but still.
The shorts, though. Jesus.
It's not that they're attractive, no. It's that they're ugly and look funny, and Daniel desperately wants to get them off so that he can blow them up or set them on fire or something, and what's he left with then?
Andrae, not wearing pants.
Andrae really needs to stop wearing those damn shorts when the cameras are around, is what Daniel's thinking, if only to save Daniel from making that face on national television.
*****
The party at Marquee is a blast of nervous energy from the moment the liquor starts pouring, which is pretty much immediately. There's a brief tense moment where all of the designers stare at Nicky Hilton like she's naked or an alien or something, and then the next thing anyone knows, Daniel's leading Rebecca up to Nicky with that calmly confident smile of his. It's like he doesn't even remember having the wrong fabric for the dress, being serene and stressed all at once the way only he seems to be able to pull off.
He shows off the dress and Rebecca and his quietly charming "I'm going to be a designer when I grow up" way of speaking about the whole thing, and when he's done and the two of them walk away, he exhales a little too deeply, eliciting a soft smile and a quick touch on the arm from Rebecca.
"Feeling better?" she asks.
His smile slips easily onto his face. "Oh, yeah. Now I've got the rest of the night to drink."
She laughs at that and wanders off.
When Daniel turns around, he catches a glimpse of Andrae staring at him just long enough for Nick to sneak in and get to Nicky Hilton before he can. Andrae flinches as if shocked, then downs another gulp of his drink before leading Danyelle over to Nicky's side in the gorgeous jersey dress he's designed.
Oh, yeah, Daniel thinks, there had better be some more alcohol around here with his name on it.
*****
It's Nick's idea to do the walk-off, of course, because they're all really drunk and all of their inhibitions took a cab back to the Atlas a while ago. Daniel wouldn't be surprised if the whole thing degenerated into a group striptease following by a sloppy orgy in the middle of the dance floor, although he's pretty sure somebody is bound to konk Santino over the head, toss him into a cab, and wake him up the next morning with the news he'd slept with all of them rather than alone on the floor of the suite just to see the look on his face without actually fucking him.
The designers huddle in the back, laughing and boozy and half out of it as a group, and out in the bar the models whistle and catcall when they're not dissolving into fits of giggles. Daniel has a vague awareness of Santino strutting wildly into the bar with arms swinging and high heels clacking against the floor, of Chloe walking purposefully out like the world's tiniest supermodel, of Lupe either doing the caterpillar or writhing on the floor in a fit (it could go either way).
Andrae walks out before him, he thinks, or after him, or ... hell, he can't remember. All he knows for sure is that Andrae's out there when it's his turn, and he can't stop fucking staring at the guy.
When he finally does get to come out, he can't really pull off Nick's swagger or Chloe's determined strut, but he can strip. Hell, who can't, right? Especially when they're as far gone as he is. And Andrae stares at him -- one shirt button opened, two, and then three -- and somewhere in between the clapping and whistles of the models, Daniel sees Andrae's eyes glaze over with something that probably doesn't have a damn thing to do with the booze.
Later on, when he's pressing Andrae against a wall in the bathroom and kissing him while Andrae's hands fumble with his belt, Daniel thinks, Oh, I am really going to regret this in the morning, aren't I?
And yeah ... yeah, he kind of does. Because Nick, even when he's hung over and exhausted from dancing and trying to make himself look like a million dollars for the runway show, does not know when the hell to shut up.
*****
"Ooo. What's that smile for, Andrae? Get lucky last night?"
Bleary-eyed and out of it, Daniel chokes on his coffee, and tries not to look too guilty when Nick gives him a knowing look.
Well, hell. At least it's not Santino.
*****
Nick brushes past him after Daniel's done telling the hairdresser his whole mojitos-on-the-beach idea, and he gives Daniel this teasing smile and says, "So, going out for the post-challenge bar hopping tonight? Or are we staying in?" He might not wink, but damn it if he doesn't look like he wants to.
Ever the calm, collected one, Daniel manages not to grimace and wonders if Andrae is getting it just as bad somewhere else at Parsons right now.
*****
It's not like it's a case of "It got weird, didn't it?" the day after, because really, it didn't. It's not weird when they wait until the cameras are pointed elsewhere to flash each other the briefest of smiles, and it's not weird when they have to stay as serious as possible while they're working their asses off for the Nicky Hilton runway show.
Okay, it's a little weird when Nick almost visibly swallows his pride after the runway show, slaps a smug Santino on the back, and says, "Hey, big guy, how about we go out and celebrate just how much Nicky Hilton fucking loves you?"
But Daniel's not thinking about it after he and Andrae decline to go and hang back in the apartment after they leave, because it's definitely not weird when Andrae is doing that thing with his tongue.
*****
"You'll be working in teams of two," Tim Gunn tells them before the next challenge, and damn it if Andrae doesn't bound over to Daniel's side with that big, dopey grin on his face.
If Daniel spends the rest of the challenge quietly thrilled that they get along better than everybody else in the room, he does a good job of not showing it.
There's no such thing as an argument between them, which is just strange. Andrae's gone from wild mood swings and the occasional badly timed crying jag to spending most of his time almost as easygoing as Daniel, like sometime in the middle of all of the sex, something rubbed off. Not that he'll ever be at Daniel's level -- Nick once made a crack about Daniel being so laidback he was practically horizontal, and Daniel couldn't argue that -- but he's definitely mellowed.
Zulema keeps badgering Kara to the point of tears, and Daniel goes over to give Kara a quick kiss on the cheek, and the next time he sees Andrae, he gives a Daniel a grateful look that says, That was quite possibly the sweetest thing you've done since the start of the show.
Now, that's weird, how Andrae's facial expressions are suddenly speaking in complete sentences.
*****
They win.
Correction ... they win again.
They hug on the runway when they do, all pent up with excitement at the thought of their dress hanging on racks at Banana Republics everywhere. Backstage, in front of the models neither one of them has to live with and the cameramen who suddenly decides to film something else, Daniel grabs onto Andrae and pulls him towards him for a deep, satisfying kiss, Andrae's arms stealing around his waist.
Oh, yeah, that's definitely not going to get shown on Bravo.
*****
That night, Nick talks like he's going to just die, probably in his sleep after being smothered with a pillow by Santino. Not that they think Santino's that out of his mind -- reality television show cameras add fifteen pounds and a desperate need for a Prozac prescription to your frame. Hell, Santino's crazy, and he's mostly just biting himself in the ass with his fucking arrogance, but he's not that awful day-to-day.
But he's going to be impossible to pry from the apartment after being glued to the kitchen floor for the rest of the night in pure, unadulterated sulkiness, so Nick goes straight to Emmett and tells him Santino is going to glue stickers to his forehead and freeze his bra like at a fucking sleepover party.
Emmett, in all of his stoic restraint, offers to let Nick stay in one of his extra beds, and Nick expects that, waving him off like an expert. "Oh, don't worry about me," he says, then slips his arm through Emmett's and flashes him that brilliant, charming smile of his and says, "Take me out and get me wasted. If anything on the planet will help me put up with that asshole, it's an enormous amount of alcohol."
Emmett really has to think something's up when Nick convinces him to give the keys to his suite to Daniel, but then again, Nick can sway anyone to his cause if he really wants to.
Daniel and Andrae can't stop laughing, because over in their apartment Santino is stomping around the place like a six-foot toddler and here they are in Emmett's suite fucking each other all over the goddamn place. Something about the whole thing is hysterically funny, because Santino's too busy acting like a spoiled brat to get lucky during the show and Nick's distracting everyone like he's living vicariously through their sex life or something. But none of it matters, really, because they've got two hours before Emmett and Nick come back and there's a time limit on how many places they can utterly defile in Emmett's suite.
Afterwards when they're staggering exhausted and smiling back to their suite, Andrae leans into him just the right way, slipping an arm around his neck and pressing his lips against the skin right above the collar of Daniel's T-shirt.
Daniel closes his eyes and tries desperately not to wish that Emmett gets eliminated next challenge.
*****
EDIT: She did do it! And right before I did! *dies giggling*
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 04:56 pm (UTC)Also, we totally did not do this. Nooo. Those RPS elves were just really, really busy last night.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 05:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 07:36 pm (UTC)I'm seriously going to end up writing more Daniel/Andre, I can see it now. They're like puppies in love!
no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 05:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 05:55 pm (UTC)Also, it's really really good.
OMG YAY!
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Date: 2006-01-13 06:22 pm (UTC)Zulema is a bossy pain in the ass, Andrae can be a complete and total spazz, and Daniel could manage to be perfectly mellow sitting in the middle of Filene's Basement during the start of the wedding dress sale.
That is a perfect summation, as is your description of loser!Santino as "a snarling rabid wolverine."
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Date: 2006-01-13 07:40 pm (UTC)For the record, if Daniel V. makes the final three, I am sooooo writing that fic. :)
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Date: 2006-01-13 08:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-14 03:16 am (UTC)...with Daniel designing his Fashion Week collection and Andrae running around being his flunkie. And then every once in a while, they get all excited like, "OMG! You're going to Fashion Week! YAY!" and they have celebratory sex all over the place.
Yeah, you know what you were saying last night about me making you write things? This is payback, isn't it?
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Date: 2006-01-14 03:32 am (UTC)Oh, God, I cannot WAIT for that part of the reunion show. I was watching again this afternoon (and I've officially ruined myself for this show now, because all I do is spend a lot of time looking at where Daniel and Andrae put their hands) and Santino talks to the cameras in his interviews like he doesn't quite understand that people will see what's he's saying. It's like he thinks he's talking to a magic box or a penguin or a kumquat or something.
And in my dream world, Andrae and Daniel totally show up arm in arm, announce they've been seeing each other since the end of the show, and make out on camera.
Yeah, you know what you were saying last night about me making you write things? This is payback, isn't it?
*snickers* Well, if it's inspiring you to write more Daniel/Andrae fic, then yes, this is payback. ;)
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Date: 2006-01-14 03:40 am (UTC)It's sort of like someone smushed Wendy Pepper's general evil into Vanessa's rude little head, and bam! out popped Santino. It's like something out of Greek mythology, only he uses slightly more braiding.
I'm just waiting for him to start in with "I never said that/you didn't understand what I meant by that."
And in my dream world, Andrae and Daniel totally show up arm in arm, announce they've been seeing each other since the end of the show, and make out on camera.
That? Would be *brilliant*. Though right now, I'd settle for them sitting entirely too close on a giant sofa "so other people can squeeze in".
Oh my God, drunken outtakes! Project Drunkway! Can we see this *now*, Bravo? Pretty please?
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Date: 2006-01-14 03:58 am (UTC)What I'm really hoping is that he's irritated everyone at that point (yeah, like he hasn't already) to the extent where one of them will say, "You can't not mean everything you say. And if you do, you can't expect people to roll over and take it."
The part with the audience questions should be a blast when it comes to that. I doubt the audience is going to let him get away with a damn thing. Not that I don't think Tim and Heidi will after putting some space between the first part of the show and the second.
Though right now, I'd settle for them sitting entirely too close on a giant sofa "so other people can squeeze in".
If they sit really close together on the couch at the reunion show, that'll just be begging for more fic. (Yeah, like what they do NOW doesn't beg for more fic.)
And drunken outtakes? Yes, let's do that! God knows there has to be a "We got wasted last night and now I'm sneaking out of somebody's bedroom" clip somewhere on the Bravo editing room floor.
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Date: 2006-01-14 04:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 06:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 07:09 pm (UTC)God that was wordy and senseless. My point is, you should leave out some cookies for the elves, because this was magnificent.
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Date: 2006-01-13 07:42 pm (UTC)And OMG, yes. They are so much in love, and if they aren't sleeping together, then damn it, they should be. :)
(Ghostwriter fic?! If I had even known what fanfiction was back then, I so would have written that!)
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Date: 2006-01-13 08:09 pm (UTC)I'll totally read more of this pairing if you write &/or rec it.no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 08:52 pm (UTC)You made me like Andrae, dammit.
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Date: 2006-01-14 05:54 am (UTC)*explodes, saves to memories*
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Date: 2006-01-14 07:33 am (UTC)no subject
...
And I just channelled Hurley. o__O I thought it in his tone of voice, too.
from a random passerby...
Date: 2006-01-19 10:12 pm (UTC)