A Behind the Scenes Series:Terminator Salvation | By : MistressMayvenn Category: Casts RPF > Terminator Salvation Views: 1186 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: My first fanfic, be kind and R&R: I don't know Sam Worthington or Christian Bale personally, and had nothing to do with Terminator Salvation- just 'borrowed' them for a bit...for free of course! No money was made from this work of fiction. |
Sam paced in his trailer. The filming that day had been grueling, as all the days before. The Terminator franchise wasn’t a fluffy bunny production, and MCG was making this one like his whole career depending on killing the actors during the process. He should be exhausted, and passing out as he usually did around 1am, but instead, all he could see was Bale’s face. “Look at me”, Marcus ordered Connor. “That’s why I don’t trust you”, came the conflicted reply from John. “I’m the only hope you have”, Marcus responded. The whole dialogue was brimmed with double meaning for the two male leads. It had started 3 days before with the scene when the Resistance forces of Connor had strung up the human terminator. The intensity of Bale’s acting shot straight to Sam’s very core, and he found himself feeling about a man as he never had before. He attributed it to hero worship. While Bale was only 2 years older than Sam, he had already accomplished so much. Naturally, Worthington would respect and admire his talented counterpart on such a legacy of a film. The face to face dialogue brought the gorgeous Christian into Sam’s proximity for the first time in the whole movie. While they each had watched the other acting, and spoken pleasantly on and off during the shoot, this was the first interaction they’d had as their action alter- egos. The tension in that scene was palpable, and Sam’s mind was blown by Bale’s utter beauty. But this tension had nothing to do with respect. Sam paced, and ran his hand over his unusually short hair. He was in just a robe, having showered off from the river scene an hour before. The next morning would come, and he had to get some sleep. MCG had no mercy. Neither did the knock at the door. “Bloody hell” muttered Sam as he walked to answer, and flung the door to his trailer open with a not-too-charitable phrase on his lips. It never got spoken. Bale’s simple “May I come in?” caused Sam’s groin to twitch, and he knew he was in trouble. *** Sam stood back and let the man in, and Bale moved to lean causally against the counter in Sam’s rather spacious kitchen. The Australian actor liked to cook; it calmed him, and it was the one ‘perk’ he asked for when filming. Bale’s eyes took in the surroundings quickly and with approval: Sam, in a black robe that looked well-loved but fitted his form to perfection; the smell of something made of meat and cheese still lingering in the air, as well as Sam’s fresh soaped skin. The script was still open to the next day’s segment on the table, with Worthington’s neat, small notes hand-written into the margins. Bale was overwhelmingly impressed with the slightly younger man, and had been through the whole process so far. Sam had a sense of professionalism and a work ethic that Bale found sexy and intriguing. “Do-“, Sam had to clear his throat from the gruff beginning and tried again, “Do you want something to eat? I still have a bit of dinner left. It was pretty good; I can heat it up?” “No, thanks, I ate earlier,” came the raspy response from Christian. His natural voice was the rough velvet of after sex glow, and made Sam wonder what his voice was like during the act. He shook his head; that kind of thinking wasn’t helping calm his situation down at all. “What can I do for you then? It’s kind of late.” Sam decided to be direct. “I wanted to apologize if I was…well, inappropriate during the shoot today”, Bale started, “I shouldn’t have looked at you….” “It’s fine” Sam interrupted. “If you were, then I was. Can’t insult the willing.” Bale chuckled, and nodded his understanding. He used his hips to lurch himself from his lounged position on the counter and crossed the space to stand in front of Sam. Sam, to his credit, didn’t back away, nor swallow in an overly noticeable way. His heart racing faster though, he couldn’t do a damn thing about. Bale put the flat of his hand on Sam’s chest, right over said pounding heart. “They cast you right, didn’t they? Strong heart…” Bale’s mouth was a wish away from Sam’s. Sam wasn’t the rising action hero for nothing. He closed the distance and pressed his lips to Bale’s, and decided to hell with sleep. He knew what he needed right then. *** A/N: I like set-ups, and not necessarily dragging it out, but lingering...trust me, when I'm done with the foreplay, you'll be ready for it! ;) Please read and review! This is my first go, and I'm nervous and excited!
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