Don't own The Producers. Carmen and Roger's first meeting. Carmen is very young, and Roger slightly older.
A Job?
Carmen Ghia, twenty-one years old and freshly arrived in New York, sat at the bar. It was fairly nice, lit by lights hanging over the bar. The decorations were stylish in their own ways, although not particularly to Carmen's taste. He slowly sipped the bourbon that filled his glass.
He heard the door behind him open. The bartender called, "Roger, how are you?"
Carmen glanced over his shoulder to see the man, who came to sit on the barstool to Carmen's left.
"I'm well, John. The usual, please." Roger answered. The bartender nodded and began to fix what looked like a very dry martini.
Carmen looked at the man now sitting beside him. He was good-looking, but not in a flashy way; he wore a black Italian suit, similar to one that Carmen had admired a few days earlier. He looked like he was a little under thirty. Something about him reminded Carmen of someone, but he couldn't put his finger on whom.
Carmen returned to his drink. A moment or two later he had the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. Being homosexual, that feeling almost never ended well in his experience. He turned and faced the man next to him. Cautiously, he spoke, "Is something wrong?"
The man looked flustered and quickly apologized, "I'm sorry. I was staring at you wasn't I?"
Carmen nodded in agreement. He looked so familiar, where had Carmen seen him before?
"That is rather rude. I am so sorry." He looked away and then back at Carmen. "It's a bad habit I seem to have when I see very attractive men."
Carmen felt a blush rise to his face. A man he did not know just called him attractive? It was an unusual thing for him to hear, from his smaller hometown.
"I'm Roger Debris." He held out his hand, and Carmen took it.
"Roger Debris? The theatrical director?" Carmen felt his blush deepen. He had seen this man's picture in a newspaper review not two days before. That was where he had seen him before.
"Yes. And you are?"
"What?" Carmen tried to work up a normal sentence but felt too flustered.
"Your name? I hope you'll still tell me after my earlier indelicacy." He smiled a very handsome and charming smile. Carmen felt a tingling sensation run down his spine.
"Carmen. Carmen Ghia."
"Carmen." Roger repeated, still smiling.
They began talking to each other. One half hour later Carmen, still quite flustered, realized that he had almost reeled off his entire life story, while Roger looked on, nodding with interest, occasionally asking a question. "I'm sorry." Carmen said. "It seems like I've been manipulating the conversation."
"Not at all." Carmen realized that Roger had moved his left hand over Carmen's right that had been resting on the bar. He lightly stoked Carmen's hand with his thumb.
As Carmen noticed this, he jumped slightly, almost afraid that Roger had placed his hand there on accident.
"I'm sorry. Am I being too forward?" Roger removed his hand and quickly began to turn away.
"Oh no." Carmen raised his hand to emphasize that he did not find Roger too forward. "I'm just not used to such a pleasant conversation with such a renowned director."
Roger turned back. He took Carmen's raised hand in his, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. Then he reached out, and with his hand resting gently on the side of Carmen's face he pulled him in and kissed him. Carmen tightly gripped Roger's arm.
They parted several seconds later when they heard a crash of glasses. A man, obviously very drunk, had slammed his glass on the bar and was screaming that the bartender had watered down his drink.
"Shall we go someplace quieter?" Roger asked. Carmen nodded. Roger left some money on the bar, and they left.
Outside the bar Roger asked, "Would it be presumptuous of me to take you to your home?"
Carmen, shaking his head, said, "Well, no, but I'm afraid my living quarters leave much to be desired." Truthfully, he lived in a slightly run down motel, as he searched for an apartment in the city. This was difficult, as he still did not have a job either.
"Well, then, to mine, maybe?" A hopeful grin spread across Roger's face.
Carmen smiled back, "If you wouldn't mind."
"It would be a pleasure.
They drove to an elegant townhouse in New York's Upper East Side. They entered and Carmen saw three men and a woman, though it was a little hard to tell, sitting on a fuchsia sofa.
"Roger," one of the men turned to him, "Where have you been. We were worried about you."
"I was at a bar, perfectly able to take care of myself, Kevin."
Carmen turned to Roger with an inquisitive look. "This is my production team." Roger explained.
"Yes, and who is this young thing?" One of the other men got up off the sofa and approached, eyes fixed on Carmen.
"Scott, his name is Carmen Ghia." Roger pushed Scott away with a look in his eye that told him to back off.
"Why, Roger, you old dog." Scott laughed.
Carmen felt himself turn red. He took a step back and whispered, "They live with you?"
Roger quietly said, "Yes, but don't worry. They're just messing with me. And it's always strictly business." He held Carmen's hand in assurance. Then he turned to the others, "Well, now that I'm home, why don't you get some sleep. We have work to do tomorrow."
They agreed and left. Scott shot Carmen a seductive glance as he walked up the stairs.
"Roger," Carmen said nervously, "I'm not sure this will work tonight." This experience with Roger's production team had really flustered him. "I'll just get a cab and leave."
Roger pulled him into another kiss, holding Carmen against him. Still holding him close, Roger whispered in Carmen's ear, "No. Don't worry about them. They can be a little trying at times, but it's all in good fun. Just ignore them."
Carmen weakly protested, as Roger's breath tickled his ear. He then took a deep breath and joined Roger in a passionate kiss.
In Roger's bedroom, Carmen took off his shoes and sat on the bed, while Roger removed his suit jacket. Then Carmen took off the chains that he wore around his neck, placing them on the nightstand. Roger came up behind Carmen, wrapping his arms around his waist. Slowly, Roger began to lightly kiss Carmen's neck, starting where the neck met his shoulder, and moving up to his ear.
As he reached and lingered on Carmen's ear, Carmen gasped and fell back. Roger quickly moved over him. He pulled off Carmen's tight, black sweater. His lips tugged at Carmen's and he let his hand drift down Carmen's chest and stomach, causing Carmen to shiver. His hand rested on the waistline of Carmen's pants.
His hands shaking, Carmen unbuttoned the white shirt Roger wore. He felt a fire blaze through his body as Roger removed his pants. Roger had thrown off his own belt and pants, and he leaned down, lightly biting the skin on Carmen's neck. He pulled Carmen against him.
The next morning, Carmen woke up next to Roger. He still felt a little awkward, and he was unsure of how this relationship would end up, but he turned to face the man who sill slept. A few minutes later Roger opened his eyes. Once again he smiled his charming smile. He kissed Carmen softly before he said anything.
"Do you want a job?" He finally asked.
Carmen quickly pulled away, a little angry. What did Roger think he was? He sat up.
Sensing he had been misinterpreted, he held Carmen from standing, his arms around him. "I didn't mean that. I need an assistant."
"Oh?" Carmen turned to face him. "And you want me as your assistant?" He was a little confused, as he had veritably no experience in, well, anything.
"Well, I need an assistant to take notes during meeting and answer phones. And…" He paused for a moment, "How else will I keep you here?"
"Oh my." Carmen gasped, but Roger cut him off with another kiss. He pulled away, but only left about an inch between them.
"Is that a yes?"
"I do need a job." Carmen left out the fact that he was now almost sure he was in love with Roger.
"Good." He kissed him softly. "You're hired." They kissed again, but not quite as softly.