Champagne
Their wrists slammed together, and green eyes lit up so convincingly. "We will join hands… and never let anyone sever us again! Let's go, Zero!"
They smiled, so wide and so genuine, before their arms fell and in synch they turned to the left. They walked perhaps three steps before a sharp voice cut through the air and music.
"All right, cut! Good work, you two."
Xavier immediately took off his helmet and threw it off to the side. "Are you fucking happy with the Goddamn scene now?" he snapped. The director gave him a hard stare.
"I dunno what crawled up your ass," the man replied, "but if you want to keep your damn job you'll lose the attitude, Xavier. X and Zero are supposed to be happy to see each other, and whatever anti-depressants are killing your dick and making you grumpy, you need to get off of."
"Fuck off," Xavier growled as he stomped off the set, leaving Zero's actor alone with the asshole director.
"I'll check on him," the actor said, hurriedly removing his own helmet. His head felt so much lighter being free of that heavy ass ponytail, and he ran a hand through his multi-colored, short hair. If the fans of the series only saw the real Zero under the armor…
He knocked on Xavier's door, and a short string of expletives greeted him. It made him frown. "Yo, Xavier, chill, it's me. Lemme in."
"You can fuck off too, Branson!"
"Dude, let me in. I am not afraid to bust your damn door down with a prop if I have to." Branson pressed his ear against the door for a second before he started to pound on it. "I fucking heard that! Xavier, open the fucking door!"
The door finally flew open, Xavier's bloodshot eyes, free of their green contacts and now their natural brown, made Branson cringe. X's actor lashed out, grabbing his partner by the front of his shirt and jerking him into the room before slamming the door and locking it.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Branson growled as his eyes settled on the table nearby. "What did I tell you, Xavier? What the fuck did I tell you?" he stomped to the perfect little lines of white dust, slapping the table surface and scattering it to the carpet.
"'You need to get off the Goddamn drugs,'" Xavier quoted. "No shit, B. But there's sort of a thing called 'addiction' that hinders that."
"That's why I signed you up for rehab!" Branson hit his face with his palm, groaning. "Is this why you're so damn pissy? You're doing drugs behind my back again?"
Xavier frowned. "In my defense, that's the first line I've snorted since I started rehab."
"Xavier, sweetheart, if you give in to your addiction, then you just wasted my money and your time." Branson shook his head before sighing deeply. "God, what am I doing wrong?"
"Don't pull that martyr shit on me now," Xavier snapped. Branson glared at him and the shorter actor threw his hands into the air. "You're not doing anything wrong, B! This isn't your fault, and if you go on a damn guilt trip I swear I'm… I'm… I don't know what but I'll fucking hurt you!"
"What the fuck else can I do?" Branson fired back. "Goddamn it all, Xavier! You could lose your job over this! And I am not going to cradle you throughout your life because you don't have any damn willpower."
Xavier threw his hands up in the air again. "I can't fucking help it! Why can't you be a little more understanding? Damn you, Branson, this isn't easy on this end either!" suddenly he covered his eyes as tears just… leaked out. "Fucking hell…"
"Damn you, X." Branson sighed before reaching out, gathering the now sobbing man into his arms. "Stop it, sweetheart."
"What fucking irony," Xavier sniffled. "X and Zero aren't gay but their actors are."
"That's totally off topic."
"Amuse me, I'm a grown man crying."
Branson sighed before dropping a kiss onto Xavier's forehead. "Be honest with me, babe. Where are you keeping the rest?"
"In my pants," Xavier managed a smirk at the look Branson gave him. Even without the blond wig, Branson looked so incredibly like Zero, sometimes Xavier thought they were still on the set. "I'm serious." He pointed to his normal clothing nearby.
Branson released him to march over there and rifle through the pockets. He found the little baggy of cocaine in the leg pocket and promptly went to the bathroom. Xavier heard him flush it down the toilet, and although he felt a sudden surge of fierce rage bolt through him, when Branson returned and held him close again, the brunette had no desire to lash out. Branson was his personal Zero—best friend and secret lover, the guy that made shit okay.
"Well, we're done for today," Branson said. "Go change, babe. I'll meet you outside in the car."
"We should talk to the head of Capcom," Xavier called after him. "Convince him to let us bonk on the set. Think of the revenue."
"Go get changed!" Branson snapped, but he was smiling, and Xavier took it as a sign he was forgiven.
After all, Branson loved him like Zero loved his X. He'd never leave him, of course.
Of course.
~*~
"I don't want to go back."
"Why not?" Branson glared from the corner of his eye as they stopped at the red light. "You need it, Xavier."
"No," Xavier growled. "No, I don't."
"Yes, you do, babe. You know you do."
"No. I'm just fine without rehab. I got you, and the next X series is planned and it's busy as hell. You and the job. That's all I need."
"Crock-shit," Branson snatched the cigarettes out of Xavier's lap. He quickly ripped the pack open and pulled one out, holding it with his lips as the light turned green. "Light me up, babe?"
"That is disgusting, B," Xavier frowned. "I thought you were gonna quit?"
"I'll quit when you're out of rehab, completely un-addicted to cocaine. That was our agreement. Light me up, babe."
Xavier got the lighter out and flicked it up, holding it up so Branson could lead toward a bit and light his cancer stick. "You know, 'babe' is such a feminine term."
"Well, what do you want me to call you?" Branson asked as he took a long drag from his cigarette. He rolled down his window, resting the hand holding the thing near it.
"Fuck if I know," Xavier sulked, staring out his window. Rehab made him bitchy, he'll admit. Those self-righteous asshole workers with over-sized dildos up their asses the wrong way always pissed him off.
"In all seriousness," Branson turned into their house parking lot, parking the car into the garage and hitting the button on his key ring to close it behind them. "I'm proud of you, Xavier."
"Why now?" Xavier asked as he climbed out of the car.
Branson climbed out as well, grabbing the grocery bag before locking up the car and meeting Xavier at the door. "For goin' through this for me."
"Only cause you're an amazing fuck," Xavier winked at him, dashing into the kitchen as Branson sought to swat his behind.
"Get back here," Branson called after him, dropping the bag on the counter as he chased his boyfriend upstairs.
There Xavier closed the door to their master bedroom, locking it before Branson could reach him. Branson hit the door and hollered playfully, but when Xavier refused to open the door or even answer him, worry started to gnaw at him. Did Xavier have more drugs in there?
"X, baby?" Branson called. "Open up, sweetheart."
He heard faint noises on the other side, and he jingled the door knob. "Xavier? Xavier, this is a bad joke. Open the door, honey."
"Hold your damn horses, Zero." Xavier called. "I ain't snorting back here, you'd murder me."
"Most likely. So what the fuck are you doing?"
When the door finally opened, Branson's hand rushed to his face and he immediately pinched his nose. Xavier smirked, leaning against the door and thrust his hips toward Branson, the frilly thong hardly covering anything.
"Holy fuck," Branson knew his nose was about to torrent out some blood, but he could not resist the urge to tackle Xavier to the floor. His hand slipped up Xavier's thigh, and he nearly squeaked when he felt the silken cloth of a corsage on his boyfriend, most likely a match for the thong.
"You're such a freak," Xavier laughed.
"You look fucking hot," Branson replied before he devoured Xavier's mouth in a kiss, his hand travelling a little higher.
Xavier half laughed, half moaned. If nothing else, the few hours after rehab made up for the hours he spent in it.
~*~
Branson slumped to the ground, groaning as his now aching body screamed at him. The mech-prop dropped to its knees, and the director screamed cut just before the new kid actor landed. As if the fans needed anymore ammo that he played a gay man with long blond hair, but the new character seriously looked like a love-child between Zero and X. Maybe he and Xavier should ask for a bonking scene.
"Good work there, Zero," the new kid said, offering a hand. "Sorry about the rough push there."
"Not a problem," Branson said as he let him help him up. He bent himself backward til his back popped, and he let out another groan. "I thought turning down the stunt double would make me more manly, but fuck, I might go back and see if I can get that guy to take over from now on."
"Psh, don't be a wuss,"
"Shut it, you weren't thrown halfway across the set." Branson swatted at the kid's head, who ducked. "Where'd Xavier go?"
"Said he wasn't feeling well," the director answered for him as the lanky guy walked up to them. "So we sent him home in a cab."
Fuck. Xavier alone at home. "Then I'ma head out after him. To check on him."
The new kid laughed. "What, you his boyfriend?"
"As a matter of fact," Branson winked. "I am."
All he saw was the kid's horrified look before he turned away to his room, quickly changing out of his armor and into his clothes. When Branson came out, he heard the new kid screaming about faggots or some shit, but he frankly didn't care. Running a hand through his hair, just then remembering his natural black roots were starting to show from the myriad of whacked out colors he dyed his hair, Branson power-walked to his car.
He barely managed to avoid getting pulled over for speeding, but Branson made it home in record time. He practically flew out of the car and into the house, afraid of the sight he'd see. Memories of the first time he caught Xavier snorting cocaine came to him, of how hurt he felt and how disgusted he was…
Yet as he nearly tore the house apart looking for his boyfriend, Branson threw open the bathroom door open and a yelp made him turn the light on. Xavier sat up from the bathtub, eyes wide and his hand pressed against his chest.
"Holy shit, B!" Xavier cried. "You can't just run in here! And why the hell are you home early?"
A quick scan revealed no drugs, and Branson relaxed. "I heard you were sick," he answered honestly. "I was worried."
"Over what?" Xavier asked as he got out of the now cold water. As he grabbed a towel, he turned to Branson with a scowl. "Oh, I get it, you don't trust me."
"That's not it, Xavier, I was just—"
"Oh crock-shit, you thought I was snorting." Xavier shoved past him. "God, the fuck do I have to do to get you to trust me?"
"I trust you, X," Branson replied, a bit weakly, as he followed his boyfriend to the bedroom. "Xavier, babe, I'm serious. The last time you got sick you were puking up everything and—"
"Go back to work," Xavier hissed, slamming the door in Branson's face.
Branson hit the door with his fist, anger welling up in him. "Yeah, well, fuck you too."
~*~
"You're being a pain in the ass."
Xavier blinked. "What'd I do now?"
Branson dropped his fork, scowling. "You do this when you're angry at me; you'll cook for us but burn my portion, and you know I'm too fucking nice to rag on you for it. Well, fuck it to hell, Xavier, I didn't do anything. So why the fuck are you mad at me now?"
"I did?" Xavier looked genuinely surprised. "I'm sorry, B. I didn't realize. I'll make something else for you."
"Sit down," Branson snapped when Xavier rose. The brunette plopped back into his seat, eyes slightly wide as the tone his boyfriend was using. Branson covered his eyes sigh a deep sigh, his hair now completely black again and growing out enough to pull back in a small ponytail.
"Sorry." Branson finally mumbled. He shoved his plate aside and his head thumped against the table. "This whole bullshit with X9 and them trying to also plan a Zero series at the same time is eating my nerves. I just snapped."
"It isn't work," Xavier muttered quietly. Branson lifted his head, staring at his boyfriend. "It's the fact the rehab people told you I was doing bad, wasn't it?"
"Xavier, sweetheart, I know you're doing your best—"
"Well," Xavier cut in, his voice suddenly like acid. "My best isn't fucking good enough. Look at you, you're miserable!"
"Oh no, you don't," Branson reached over, grabbing Xavier's hand before the smaller man could retreat. Xavier glared at him heatedly, but tears were welling in his eyes and damn it he hated himself for it. And the fact Branson's look wasn't helping him, Xavier started to figure he hated him too.
"Don't you fucking dare suggest we break up," Branson hissed, blue eyes flashing dangerously a lot like the character he played. "Cause even if you're mentally fucked up for getting addicted to cocaine in the first place, I still fucking love you and want to be with you. So get that thought out of your mind, every damn couple goes through their ups and downs. We'll get through this."
"And if we don't?" Xavier demanded. "What if I can't break this damn addiction? Not everyone escapes it, you know!"
"Then we fucking crash and burn together, damn it." Branson got up, pulling Xavier up with him. "You're stuck with me for life ever since you signed the Goddamn papers, so deal with it."
Xavier gave off a choking sort of sound and he buried his face into Branson's chest, trying not to just openly sob. "It fucking hurts," Xavier practically wailed. "It feels like I'm going to fucking die if I don't get a snort or something!"
"We'll deal," Branson said soothingly, petting Xavier's brown hair gently. "We'll deal, or we both burn. But we're together in this, got it?"
"Yeah," Xavier nodded against his chest. "I'm sorry, B. I'm a Goddamn wreck. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."
~*~
Xavier snatched the coffee off the tray, nearly inhaling it as he watched Branson swing the beam saber prop at the guy playing the Maverick. Branson made a wonderful Zero, both personality and looks. Not many people came up in Xavier's mind when 'self-sacrificing, heroic, humble persona' was described to him. The blond ponytail was also starting to warm up to him, and Xavier wondered if he could convince Branson to grow his hair out again…
A stab of longing shot through him, painful and hot and it made him nearly drop the cup as he winced. No matter what he did, where he went, who he was with, Xavier's mind always turned to the thought of getting a shot of his drugs. Detox wasn't working too well for him, at least it didn't feel like it, and the group therapy bullshit only made him want his drug more.
When Branson's scene was done and he came to Xavier's side, the now blue-clad man offered him the half-consumed cup of black coffee.
"Thanks, babe," Branson consumed the rest of the coffee without a hitch, and Xavier had to marvel his tolerance of hot things. "So they find a replacement guy for Axl that isn't so homophobic?"
"Not yet," Xavier answered, grabbing another little Styrofoam cup of coffee. "I missed the outburst, the hell you do to him? You didn't molest him or something did you? Or did you try to get him in the frilly thong?"
Branson shot him a glare over the edge of his cup. "F-y-i, only you make the frilly thong hot."
"Yeah, yeah," Xavier ignored the looks the other actors gave them, instead opting to slouch in his chair. "B, I got a call from the rehab place."
"What they want?"
"They said if I don't show improvement, they don't want me anymore."
"What?" Branson glanced at him, eyes wide. "The fuck?"
"X, you're up!" the director called.
Xavier rose to his feet with a heavy sigh. "I don't want you to burn with me, B," Xavier murmured. Before his boyfriend could utter a word, he put his cup down and went onto the set.
Branson swore under his breath and grabbed his cellphone from the hidden pockets of his costume. No one gave up on his Xavier, no one.
~*~
"Xavier, baby, baby, please…" Branson begged. He slowly stepped forward, hand out. "Baby, look at me…"
"Don't come near me!" Xavier shrieked, eyes wide and glassy. "Don't fucking come near me! I'll kill you! Kill you, you hear me?!"
Branson swallowed hard, eyes trained on the gun in Xavier's hand. "Xavier, put it down, baby. Talk to me, don't do this to me."
"I give up!" Xavier hollered. "I give up! The rehab people gave up on me, the directors gave up on me, and I know you will too! Well fuck it to high Heaven I give up!"
"No!" Branson shouted as Xavier raised the weapon. "Xavier, no! I still love you, baby, and I'll never give up on you! We can get through this!"
"Look at me!" Xavier waved his arms around, and Branson winced for the second the gun was pointed at him. "I hit rock bottom and instead of trying to better myself, I kill someone for a fucking snort!"
"Xavier, please, we can get through this…"
"No! Enough's enough! I can't get better, Branson! I can't get better!" Xavier sobbed. "You deserve so much better, B. So much fucking better."
"I don't care if I do," Branson whispered, holding his hands out to Xavier. "I love you and only want you."
"I'm a wreck!"
"I don't care! Xavier, if I didn't want to stick with you for the rest of my life we wouldn't have signed those papers! We wouldn't be wearing these rings! Put the gun down!"
"Okay," Xavier muttered, his eyes as wide as possible. The dazed look scared Branson, and he screamed when Xavier raised the gun to his head. "I'll drop it. When I use it."
"Fuck! Xavier, no!"
Xavier pulled the trigger just as Branson jumped at him. Branson wrapped his arms around his lover, tears blurring his vision as the gun clattered to the floor.
"Xavier..."