Chris takes the opportunity to speak to Robert when they’re alone in the rehearsal room, just as they’re wrapping up the final recording for Peter Pan. “I’m concerned about Jonathan and Sandra.”
Robert gives a dark laugh, sitting back in his Starkey costume. They’re both in agreement that it’s best to wear the costume to get into character, even for audio-only recordings, but it’s puzzling that Robert got dressed up as well; Starkey doesn’t feature on the tape. “Ah. Jonathan and Sandra.”
Chris isn’t sure what he’s hoping for, bringing this up. For Robert to break up their relationship, perhaps; it’s probably not beyond him. “He’s playing Peter Pan and she’s playing Wendy; they shouldn’t be sleeping together!”
“Agreed,” Robert says. “It’s simply not appropriate for characters of that age. Now, Starkey and Hook, on the other hand...”
He tails off, meaningfully and unsettlingly.
“Starkey and Hook what?” Chris asks, perhaps against his better judgement. He must be misinterpreting, surely.
“Well, we all know what men get up to at sea together.”
“Do... do we?”
“You don’t think there might be some interest there?” Robert asks.
“This is a family play,” Chris says. “Why on Earth would I have given any thought to the characters’ sex lives?”
“It all adds richness to their backstories,” Robert says. “I’ve certainly been playing Starkey as having had intimate encounters with Hook in the past. You didn’t notice it in my revised lines?”
Robert’s been revising lines? To be honest, Chris can’t understand a word of what he says as Starkey. “Well, that’s certainly not my intention in playing Hook. And it has nothing to do with the matter at hand, which is that there should not be sexual relations between the play’s actors.”
Robert shakes his head. “Not what you said, Chris. You specified that the actors for Peter Pan and Wendy should not be sleeping together. The implication being that other actors having sex might be perfectly fine.”
“Well, I—” Something about this conversation is putting Chris on edge. “I suppose that’s true, but it’s probably best kept to a minimum.”
“Right,” Robert says. “Only once, then?”
“Only... only once what?”
“I should only fuck you once,” Robert says. “While the play’s still going on, that is.”
For a few seconds, all Chris can do is stare at Robert like the man is an approaching bulldozer. He finds his voice eventually, albeit not quite at its usual pitch. “What on Earth made you think I was suggesting—”
“Kept to a minimum,” Robert says. “The smallest amount possible. Zero is not an amount, so presumably there has to be some shagging.”
This reasoning cannot possibly be correct, but Chris can’t think clearly enough to refute it. “I think Sandra and Jonathan already have that covered. We don’t have to – we don’t—” He takes as deep a breath as he can manage. “We don’t have to—”
“Chris,” Robert says. “Has anyone ever successfully had sex with you?”
Chris doesn’t like the phrasing, the way it takes his agency out of it. Why not just ask if he’s ever had sex? Why ask at all? “That is absolutely none of your business.”
Robert shrugs. “I only ask because it seems an impossible endeavour. I’ve even gone to the trouble of explaining it’s the logical course of action, so you don’t have to believe you actually have desires. What more does it take?”
“There is nothing logical about – what are you implying?”
“Well, you’re attracted to me, aren’t you?” Robert asks.
Chris swallows. “For God’s sake, Robert, you probably think everyone has eyes for you.”
“That’s only a refutation if you can show it’s not true, you know.”
There’s a chill creeping up the back of Chris’s neck. Robert isn’t just claiming that Chris has some sort of desire to sleep with him, is he? He’s saying that he wants to sleep with Chris.
“And what about you?” Chris asks. “Are you attracted to me?”
Robert pauses. For the first time in this conversation, he looks a little put on the back foot. It makes Chris want to keep pressing.
“You claim I’m interested in you,” Chris says, “but one of us made a pass at the other in this conversation, and it wasn’t me. I’m not sure I’m the one with the interest here.”
Robert clears his throat. “Well, I’m mainly interested in how deepening our knowledge of each other might inform our performances.”
“I see,” Chris says. “And you’d make the same offer to any other member of the cast.”
“For God’s sake, Chris, not Lucy. What a suggestion.”
“I didn’t mean – I wasn’t—” Chris can feel himself flushing. He already misses the sense that he had any sort of control over this conversation. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to imply—”
“Attracted to isn’t really the right phrase, in any case,” Robert says. “I’d just like to fuck you, I suppose.”
Why is that – why the hell is that—
Chris shifts uncomfortably, suddenly thankful for how much the coat of his Hook costume hides. Why is that the part that makes him feel...
“As I said.” Chris is intensely conscious of his own tongue in his mouth, for some reason. “Probably best to keep that sort of thing to a minimum.”
“True,” Robert says. “If we shag, I suppose I’ll have to ensure things break off between Sandra and Jonathan.”
Chris takes several deep breaths. He’s trying very hard not to shake too visibly. But maybe it’ll be obvious to the touch, and that thought just makes it harder to keep himself under control.
“Well,” he says. “If it’s for the sake of the play.”
Cries and cut-off gasps and unsettlingly wet noises echo across the stage. Chris stares into space, horrifyingly aware of far too many eyes on him: his fellow performers, an entire audience, Robert. The backstage crew, who have apparently come into the wings just to stare.
When the recording playback had first started to overrun into what had followed, he’d frozen up, hoping in a panic that it would stop in a few seconds. When it had just kept going, he’d started calling frantically for Trevor to turn it off.
Not within Trevor’s power, apparently; the playback system had been set up by the BBC. Chris very much hopes that Trevor was being truthful about that, that he wasn’t just making up an excuse so he’d get to hear the gossip.
The Chris on the recording gasps out Robert’s name, and the Chris currently living through the consequences winces his eyes shut.
Some part of him is at least unhappily vindicated; he was certainly right to think that sex amongst the drama society should be kept to a minimum.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this fic and you’d like to tell me about it, you can leave a comment on AO3 or on my guestbook, or send me an email.