Title: Getting There
Author: phobosgirl (phobosgirl@eartlink.net)
Date: 10/25/04 (updated 7/13/05)
Rating: R for language
Authors notes: This is my first ever attempt at any kind of fanfic. It is un-beta’d. Feedback is more than welcome and can be sent to phobosgirl@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: This is only for fun. None of this is real nor should any implication be made based on this manuscript that I have any insider info on either of these two fine men.
Warning: Gale/Randy RPS (Queer as Folk)
Complete: yes


Getting There

Thirty minutes ago, the duck quacked and the announcement came: “That’s a wrap on Gale and Randy for the final episode of the fifth and final season of Queer as Folk!”

A cheer went up and hugs and kisses and promises of visits and letters and emails and no-I-won’t-ever-forget’s were exchanged. There were even some tears, and that felt good and bad at the same time.

Gale dodged one man in particular, though, knowing full well that their goodbye would be have to be private. He ducked into his trailer and listlessly began packing the few personal items that remained scattered around the space into the box he’d brought with him that morning.

He was running on autopilot, trying hard not to think. He wasn’t sure what his future held- more Indy films no doubt, but maybe, just maybe, if his life didn’t burn down around his ears, a real career in Hollywood. He thought again of how glad he was that he’d had the foresight to put a little money aside for when the show ended. He’d spent most of his adult life poor and while he wasn’t rich now, he could feed himself for at least 6 more months, maybe a year if he lived frugally, before he had to worry about where his next paycheck came from.

The first year he’d worked for Showtime and CowLip, he’d been a little foolish with his cash. He’d paid off the almost overwhelming debt he’d begun to accumulate in his 20's while he'd tried to figure out his life’s direction, but after that he’d spent all of what was left over. It wasn’t until the second season that he’d started stashing what he could in the bank. It made him feel older, more responsible, and at the time he wasn’t sure that was such a good thing. Now he was grateful for his inclination towards self-preservation.

That inclination might just come in handy in the next few minutes, he thought to himself. He hoped he was wrong, but he was pretty sure he knew what the outcome of this last farewell was going to be. He recalled a four-year-old conversation and a promise that now might never be kept, and he lifted his chin in defiance of tears that threatened to spill.

He glanced around the trailer that had been his on-set home for six months out of every year and was amazed at what little impact he’d had on it, now that it was almost cleaned out. Probably about as much impact as you’ve had on him, his brain intoned morosely, but he knew as the thought skittered away that it was untrue. He’d had an impact, of course he had- it was inevitable.

He continued to pack but really he was just killing time, waiting, and when the knock finally came, he was almost relieved.

“Come in,” he called, glad that the tremors in his heart weren’t reaching his voice. Yet.

The door opened a few inches and Randy’s blonde head popped into view. “You busy?” he asked, reluctant to intrude. He’d packed his own trailer before the last shoot and he knew what a personal and difficult few moments it had been for him.

“’Course not,” Gale plastered on his best stage smile, “Get yer butt in here, man!”

Randy stepped into the trailer, closed the door softly behind him and hit him with one of his own mega-watt grins. Gale reeled at the impact, as he often did, and tried not to notice the scent of the light, almost not-there cologne Randy favored or that he looked slightly rumpled and beautiful, or that he was here to say goodbye, it’s been fun, we’ll keep in touch- all the meaningless things they’d mouth in order to get through the next few minutes without breaking down.

“I didn’t want to leave without... you know...” Randy trailed off.

“No, of course not, me either!” Gale responded, a little too heartily. He noted grimly that his hands had begun to shake. He stopped packing his pitiful little box and jammed the betrayers into his pockets in the hopes of hiding his anxiety from his former co-star. Hiding anything from Randy had become increasingly more difficult over the years but he hoped Randy would let him off the hook just this once.

“I can’t even tell you how much these last five years have meant to me,” Randy began quietly, and Gale was relieved he’d taken the plunge first.

“Yeah,” he responded, “me, too.”

“I don’t know how I could have ever done this with anyone else. You made me a better actor, Gale. Most of the time I felt like all I was doing was trying to keep up with you.”

“Don’t say that- you’re brilliant, Ran, really.”

Right on cue, Randy blushed and scuffed his feet. He was nothing if not self-deprecating. It was one of the things Gale loved so much about him.

They shared a silence that would normally have been comfortable if they weren’t both so despondent about having to leave one another to return to their own lives, their new reality, post-QaF. It almost didn’t seem possible that they wouldn't come in tomorrow, get into costume and character, and go about their jobs.

“I feel kinda like Dorothy at the end of Ron’s favorite film... ‘I’ll miss you most of all, Scarecrow!’” Randy attempted a laugh that raised a huge lump in Gale’s throat. Tears burned at the back of his eyes and he blinked rapidly to keep them at bay.

"Ran-" He nearly choked. God, what was wrong with his mouth? Would the words ever just come out? He cleared his throat and tried again, "I just-" Fuck. "I want you to know that-" His eyes were the next to betray him, and a tear slid down his cheek. He wiped at it angrily, not wanting to feel so weakened by the thought of going the rest of his life without Randy next to him. “Shit!”

Steeling himself, he took two swift steps into Randy’s space, never for a moment considering that he might not have the right to stand so near this man whose body he’d been paid to explore for the last five incredible years. He looked down into blue eyes that smiled back at him and suddenly felt shy about hugging Randy. He knew he was being foolish- bordering on obvious- so he stuck his arms out awkwardly and drew Randy into a quick, hard hug before stepping back again.

Chickenshit, his brain yammered at him, that’s right, just let him walk away, you fucking macho coward.

“You ok?” Randy’s voice was soft and tinged with pain.

Shit. He tried to find the words he needed. He'd been raised in a household that believed that men kept their thoughts to themselves and never ever talked about their feelings unless they had no choice. He’d tried hard to battle it, he knew that the “new man” of the 21st century wasn’t such a fucking Neanderthal, but old habits were hard to break.

“Yeah, I am... I’m just... yanno...” Might as well tell at least some of the truth. “I don’t really know how to... uh...”

“What?”

“You know... let all of this go.”

Let you go.

“Yeah,” Randy agreed and for a moment, the sad smile migrated from Gale’s face to Randy’s features before settling in. “But, you know, we’ll stay in touch,” Randy continued in that inane way you do when saying something real would break your fucking heart, “we’ll call and we can email and IM, too, if you’d ever bother to learn how to use a computer. And there are always planes, you know!”

His forced levity was wreaking havoc with Gale’s nerve endings. He didn’t give a shit about calls or computers or flight schedules; all he wanted was to pull Randy against him hard, hold him and whisper everything to him that he’d held back for four long years, press his face into that soft hair and beg him never to leave. But things were different than when they’d had that long ago conversation, barely a full year after they’d met. Randy had A Man now, someone in his life to care for. Someone to go home to and wake up with.

Christ, he thought, get a fucking grip, Harold, this isn’t a soap opera for fuck’s sake!

“Yeah. Planes.” Shit, could you possibly manage to sound more lame, please?

Randy glanced at his watch and Gale realized with a sudden zing of panic that he was losing his chance- his former partner was about to walk away and old conversations and promises wouldn’t even be remembered fondly, let alone-

“I guess I should be going, Simon’s waiting for me at home...” Randy was reaching for the door latch.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Say something, Harold!

“Randy!” The blonde head bobbed up once again and when Randy's eyes met his, Gale could swear he saw a glimmer of something that might be hope in those blue depths. Don’t project, fool, just get on with it!

“I...” Fuck, this was hard! Randy was waiting for him to continue, a soft smile playing on his lips. Think how hard it’ll be if you don’t say anything and he walks away from you tonight. For good.

That terrifying thought got his lips moving again, “I wanted to ask you something.”

Randy’s eyebrows arched and he shifted on one foot. But Gale’s mouth had gone dry again and he was pretty sure that if he even tried to suck in the smallest breath he might lose control and wail like a girl.

“Gale? What is it?”

“Are you happy?” The words just fell out of his mouth from who the fuck knew where and once they were out there, he was horrified to find that he couldn’t suck them back in, stuff them into a deep well somewhere, pretend like he’d never said a thing but had instead just kissed his friend on the cheek and sent him home to his lover.

Randy quirked an eyebrow and smiled, puzzled, but Gale rushed on before he could answer.

In for a penny, in for a fucking hundred dollar bill. “I mean, are you, like... in love? With Simon, I mean?”

Randy was nonplussed. His mouth opened and closed a few times, while his mind reeled, trying to chart the sudden left turn this conversation had taken, “I’m... we’re, you know... we’re just like... I guess I mean to say that...” He stopped and cleared his throat, searching for clarity. “Um... you know... “ More throat clearing, “Why?”

Ball’s in your court, Gale. Shit.

“Because, you know, four years ago we talked...” Gale let the words hang in the air. His heart was thudding heavily in his chest and he was sure the rubber bands his legs had become would not hold him upright for another second. He couldn’t look Randy in the eye, so he snatched some little trinket out of his meager box of possessions and focused his attention on it, twisting it between numb fingers. “We said that nothing could ever happen between us while we were working together. We said that if, when the show was over, neither of us was... attached... we’d... explore our options. We made a promise.”

“Yeah, we did,” Randy’s voice dropped, “and three years ago you told the world you were straight.”

Gale recoiled visibly, as if Randy had landed a physical blow. Randy’s heart went out to his acting partner and he took a tentative step forward, reaching his hand out. Gale leaned away from him, still not raising his eyes, but clearly stung.

“Look,” Randy continued, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound so harsh. That was three years ago. I was surprised and a little hurt when it happened, but I’m not anymore. I understand, Gale.” He plucked at Gale’s sleeve gently, trying to get the man to look at him again. “You have those leading man looks and a lot of leading man potential and you should have every opportunity to let your talents stretch and grow in whatever way would make you happy. I don’t have that worry, all I want is theatre, and one more gay guy in the theatre isn’t exactly going to shock the entertainment world, you know? So I have it easier than you do. I really do understand that.”

Swallowing around that fucking lump that wouldn’t go away, his voice almost a whisper, Gale asked again, “Do you love him?” He knew he’d lost- no, given up- the only man he’d ever wanted. He had nothing left to lose except his dignity, and right now he just couldn’t find it in himself to give a flying fuck about dignity.

Randy’s sigh was heavy and filled with frustration, “I don’t know, Gale. I want to. I’ve tried to.” He sounded defeated. “You’re a hard fucking act to follow.”

Gale barked a humorless laugh and his eyes bounced to Randy’s face before finding his fidgeting fingers again. “I’m sorry, Ran,” he whispered. Now the tears were coming silently but unmistakably and he let them, “I was never brave, like you. I didn't know acting would come to mean so much to me, that I'd want so much from it. Look,” he dropped the object in his hand (a green plastic army man Hal had given him once, why the fuck had he kept it?) back into the box and raised his gaze to Randy’s face, “I was never afraid to be with you or ashamed for anyone to know how I feel about you, you know that, right?”

Randy shrugged, not convinced.

Gale took a step forward, desperate to make himself understood, but standing so close to Randy was suddenly too much and when he took his next breath he realized that his hand was wrapped around the back of Randy’s head and his mouth was pressed tightly to his lips.

Randy jerked away, astonishment spreading across his beautiful face. "Gale-" But Gale pressed forward, his other arm slipping around the slim waist drawing the smaller man closer, his lips finding Randy’s ear, “Don’t make me stop, Ran, please don’t make me stop!”

He stood still, holding the smaller man close to him as one might cup a bird, with the fear that it will suddenly spread its wings and flee. His body shook and his breathing pressed raggedly into Randy’s neck. He was barely hanging on, afraid he’d thrown it all away, waiting to be pushed aside, certain the moment was coming.

"Simon-" Randy said faintly.

“Dump him.” He clutched Randy tighter as he felt his demand rip through Randy’s body like a bomb going off. Randy stiffened in Gale’s arms.

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t, Randy, don’t run please don’t run.” The words rushed out of him as one long pleading cry and he held his breath waiting for Randy’s response.

Randy deliberately pushed Gale back, and for the first time there was real anger in his voice. “I am NOT an experiment for straight guys. I am NOT a casual fuck. I am in a relationship, Gale, and that might not mean anything to you since you’ll fuck any skirt that crosses your path, but it means something to ME.”

“How well do you know me?” Gale gasped in shock. “Do you believe for an instant that I would ever treat you like an experiment or a casual fuck? Do you really think I would even tolerate anyone else treating you that way?” His voice was rising and he clamped down on his fear and agitation, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Randy couldn’t be allowed to leave thinking that all he wanted was a quick fuck, it would not end this way!

Courage was all he needed. And really, wasn’t it everything?

“Randy, for Christ’s sake, I’m fucking in love with you, how could you forget that? I told you so, 4 years ago! I can’t believe you haven’t seen any sign of it since then! Why do you think I went through sex partners like Kleenex? You, Goddammit, I needed you, I wanted you! But I couldn’t have you! How could I stay celibate all those years when you and I were here practically every day rubbing one another raw and kissing and touching and Christ, how many hard-ons did I walk off-set with because of how much I wanted you? Don’t tell me you didn’t know- please, Ran, you’re killing me here, you knew, didn’t you, you had to always know?!”

Randy appeared to sag almost imperceptibly; if Gale hadn’t known his body language like he knew how to breathe, he might have missed it. “You’re a good actor,” Randy offered weakly.

“Bullshit!” barked Gale, “I suck compared to you and we both know it!”

Both men glared at each other, the quiet, angry seconds unraveling between then, and then the absurdity of it all broke over them in a wave of laughter and release. Gale thought he might just be able to find room in his lungs for a normal breath after all.

“I’m sorry, Ran, I really am. I never meant for you to be hurt. I’m an asshole.”

“You’re not an asshole and I’m not hurt, really. I’m fine, Gale.” Relief flooded through Gale- it was out in the open now and Randy hadn’t run away or spit at him or reviled him. He was still chuckling and God, how he loved that sound, the sound of Randy laughing, that private laugh that was just for him alone, that he never used with Hal or Peter or Thea. Sometimes he even heard it in his sleep and when he did, warmth would spill over him in a soft flood, waking him gently and making him long for Randy’s sleeping form lying next to him in the dark.

Randy scratched the back of his head where Gale had clasped him moments before, lost in thought. Gale watched him intently, trying to allow him some space. A lot had been laid at his doorstep tonight, the least he could do was give him a moment to absorb it all, take it in, feel it, and then please God let him come home with me for good.

“Is it too late, Ran? Is Simon The One?”

Gale wasn’t even sure Randy had heard the question- his posture didn't indicate anything at all. Finally Randy’s head tipped up and Gale thought he’d forget his name looking into those blue eyes.

“I can’t hide. I won’t.” The words were spoken softly but there was conviction behind them. Too many people over the years had underestimated Randy’s intelligence, his talent, his power because of his quiet, beatific demeanor. Gale would not make that mistake- he knew what lay beneath the calm exterior and he feared, adored and coveted it.

“I won’t ask you to. Not ever!” I’m ready to change my life for you.

“And you’re prepared for what this will mean? You’ll be roasted in the press- they’ll want to know why you played a gay man for five years and didn’t come out. And every national gay organization in the country will put a bounty on your head; they’ll say you pushed their cause back decades. And more than that, it may cost you Hollywood. Have you really thought about all of this, Gale?” Randy asked intensely.

“It’s all I’ve thought of! For months, now!” Gale hissed. For years. Believe, Ran. Believe believe believe, his heart chanted.

“You’d go through all of that, you’d give up your career, for me?”

“I would.” Gale admitted, wondering where this newer braver version of himself had come from. “But maybe it won’t come to that. Yeah, the press will hate me, and yeah, maybe NGLTF and GLAAD will too. But who knows? Maybe they won’t. And if they do, it will blow over eventually. Christ, look at Robert Downy, Jr. and Hugh Grant and… and… that guy from The West Wing, the hottie, what’s his name?”

Randy grinned suddenly, “Rob Lowe?”

“Yeah! Him. They all had scandal in their careers and everyone said they were finished, kaput! And now look at them!”

“I think Downy, Jr. is still in jail.” Randy muttered.

“See?” Gale shouted happily, as if this gave him vindication, “And I’m not even breaking the law!"

They both paused at that, with the silent and frightening word, "yet," hanging in the air around them.

"It's a bad time for you to be coming out, Gale. The way the world is changing so suddenly, it could be a very bad-"

"Or it could be the exact right time. Either way, I'll fight for you, Ran, for us and our right to be who we are. I just want to be with someone who completes me. Someone wonderful.” The emotions welling in him almost made him stumble over his next words, “Someone I can’t live without.”

“Christ, Gale, you never make anything easy for me, do you?” Randy sounded tired- but he also sounded almost convinced.

“If you give me the chance, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make things easy for you. After, of course, I get roasted in the press and have bounties on my head,” he was babbling now, giddiness and exhaustion taking over. “I’ll probably need you to try and make things easier for me while all that’s happening, but I promise, right after that-“

Randy leaned forward and stopped the stream of nonsense with a soft kiss.

“Gale,” he said gently, “I have to go home.”

Gale’s heart leapt suddenly in his chest. NO, fuck, tell me I didn’t just lose!

Through the desert his mouth had just become, he rasped out one word, “Why?”

He was terrified of the answer.

Randy sighed deeply and rubbed his hands over his eyes; his exhaustion was evident, too- it had been a long season and to say it had also been an emotional day was a vast understatement. “Because I have a boyfriend I have to break up with,” he grinned up at Gale suddenly, disarmingly, “The love of my life just proposed.”

The End.