Kyle has feelings for Jimmy; Jimmy feels things for Kyle. Meanwhile, Karen ruins everything.
"And so it goes"...
Push-Pull
When he finally speaks it feels like chewing broken glass. The words spill from his lips in shards, scattering over the floor where his piece of shit partner lies…
"I'm done. I can't- I'm done with you."
Jimmy casts a bleary eye in his direction, mumbles something noncommittal, tries to sit up.
Kyle does not stoop down to help. Because he means it this time. Really. This is the last fight. The last night waiting up; calling cops and friends and old flames until they snap and ask him to stop. This has to be it...
His bag is tucked under the bed, already packed. A ripcord kept close in case of emergency. In case his friend was dead. Or alive.
He gets it and comes back to find Jimmy blocking the exit.
"Where you going?"
"Home."
"To do what?" he scoffs, suddenly a lot more sober. "Wait tables in Bumblefuck, New Jersey?"
Kyle shrugs the bag onto his shoulder, steps up to the door. "Move."
Jimmy smirks, slurs… "Make me."
His stuff hits the ground before he does. He wishes he were stronger. He wishes he could fight harder. But Kyle is the lover and Jimmy is the fighter and no is never the right answer.
The librettist laughs over him, breath laced with liquor. Kyle smiles, despite himself. Maybe next time...
XXX
Karen is basically Kyle with lady parts. He sees himself reflected in her doe eyes, her relentless niceness, her quiet ambition...it feels a little narcissistic then to like her so much. Especially when Jimmy constantly comes up with reasons to dislike her...
"Pampered princess- probably has perfect parents telling her how special she is every other second- whole world handed to her on a silver platter- fawning over her 'cause she looks good- getting jackshit from me…"
Kyle tunes out after a while, as he does whenever Jimmy gets moody. Which is often…
"Why are you so scared of success?"
"...what?"
"You hit self-destruct as soon as things start going well. And then I have to put you back together." He inhales now, steeling his spine. "But not this time. If you push these people away we are done. No show, no shot at Broadway. So play along and quit being such a bitch about it."
Jimmy looks stunned, almost concussed by this sudden forcefulness…and then his mood swings over to humorous. He laughs, leaning over the counter as if to see him better.
"Yes, ma'am…"
Things change and Kyle allows himself some optimism. A Broadway singer does their song on Bravo, a great director dumps his show for theirs, a rising star commits to being their female lead…
But the book sucks and they scrap it. Which makes Kyle…irrelevant to everyone except Jimmy. Nobody seems to notice, though, so he feels safe…
Until Karen turns into the writing partner, tweaking tunes, suggesting themes, sitting in his place at the piano.
Jimmy decides he likes her after all, considers asking her out. Kyle says no on her behalf because she's taken. It's not completely true but it's not a total lie. Karen is the blank canvas on which Derek paints his inspiration. He wouldn't want Jimmy getting in the way.
Sure enough, the director senses a threat and marks his territory. Jimmy relishes the challenge and tensions mount. They have dick-measuring contests over anything and everything without ever admitting what it's actually about…
Kyle is pissed. A girl has never inserted herself into their personal and professional lives like this. All of a sudden he and Karen have nothing in common...
"Is it just me or does she replace lots of people? Ivy Lynn and Ana Vargas and…and what is up with those dead eyes? I mean she can sing but can she really act?"
Jimmy smirks over his half full glass. "Does it matter? No dialogue, remember?"
The comment is made in jest, a vaguely cruel dig, and on another day he could have swallowed it…
"You used to be capable of critical thinking."
"Huh?"
"And now you just drink the Cartwright Kool-Aid like everybody else."
"Ha," he gives an aggravating grin. "U jelly?"
Yes. He happens to be crazy jelly. But that is beside the point...
"If you interfere with her and Derek it will kill our working relationship." Jimmy seems to deflate, his humor fading out as anger rushes in. "Please do not mess this up."
"Me?" he snaps suddenly. "Me mess this up? Last I heard you were the one with the bad book."
And that is it. That fucking does it. Kyle gets up and barely makes it two steps before being pulled back. He pushes hard, harder than he thought possible and his partner stumbles onto the couch.
He makes it out the door with zero resistance…
XXX
They had their first and last kiss in this room. Kyle was cramming for a test when Jimmy climbed through his window, smiling past the black eye. He knew it was a mistake before he did it but they were high on sin and stolen gin and it felt perfectly reasonable to come out to his best friend by Frenching him…
Jimmy kissed back, carefully, like he was tasting something hot, and Kyle broke away, afraid to test the limits any more.
"Fag," the battered boy slurred, before offering him another drink...
He is sitting at his desk again, looking online for grownup jobs, when Jimmy does his home invader thing. Kyle sighs, hoping it sounds more resigned than relieved...
"You can use the door. Mom no longer considers you a bad influence. What with that big Broadway musical you wrote...which she has no idea I quit. Due to creative differences. Such as my total lack of talent."
"Bullshit." Jimmy comes up behind him, reading over his shoulder. "Ugh. Fuck no." He shuts the laptop, wheels the chair around. "Come home."
"Why?"
"I need you."
"To do what?"
"To have my back."
"That is not a job," he mutters, wandering over to the window.
"You could be my sponsor?" Kyle scoffs as Jimmy joins him, perching on the windowsill. "Okay seriously. Sung through musicals can still have spoken lines. So help me write those. You have talent. You just need to tap into it."
"Karen and Derek don't have time to help me tap into it."
"Screw them then. I've got time. I can spend some on you. You've already wasted yours on me."
It wasn't wasted. He loved every minute. Even when it felt like hatred. Even when it hurt... "I should at least put up a fight."
Jimmy smirks, stares him down. He smells like smoke and leather and the shower gel Kyle left behind. "You know I'll win."
Yeah. Obviously. But hey. Better luck next time...