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Rehearsal

Summary:

David and John rope Phil into helping them rehearse for John's Hamlet.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“Come on, Phil,” David said as he put the finishing touches on the bow tie to his tux. “You said you were going to help John rehearse with me.”

“Yeah,” the big man grumbled, “but not this scene.”

“It’s the one I’m having problems with though.” John slid his black jacket over his similarly colored shirt.

“Yeah, but…” Phil started again.

“Oh come on,” David said, holding out the green dress. “It’s a costume. You’re an actor, how hard can it be?”

“Yeah, but…”

“It’s not like you can bloody well give me tips on being Hamlet, mate,” John said.

Phil sighed and took the costume from David’s outstretched hand. “It won’t fi…” He shook out the green satiny cloth and was surprised to find it considerably larger than would Michelle, John’s co-star. He looked at the other two men skeptically as he began to undress. Neither seemed like they were taking the piss and he had promised to help John rehearse after all. “Why we have to get into bloody costume to just do a bit of rehearsal,” he complained as he put the dress on.

“It will help him get into the character,” David explained. “Now wait in here for your cue.”

John and David went into the lounge and Phil stood ‘in the wings’ of David’s bedroom doorway. He listened to them rehearse the famous soliloquy. Damn, they were both good. John’s take was so different from David’s. Same words, but… “And that’s why you’ll never do bloody Hamlet,” he muttered under his breath, not a little disappointed.

“Soft you now!” He heard John start his cue. “The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered.”

Phil came down the little corridor to the lounge with a little flounce, trying his best to get into character. “Good my lord,” he began before the flashes from both cameras blinded him.

David and John were clinging to each other in peals of laughter.

“You are both dead,” he growled before giving chase.

“Careful,” David said breathlessly, running away and ducking Phil’s meaty grab.

“You don’t want to…” John spun around quickly and shook off Phil’s grip on his shoulder. He headed for the sofa with the coffee table as a shield between them.

David was nearly bent double laughing. “…Tear the dress! Aw, fuck.”

“You’ll do for starters,” Phil said, catching David up in his arms. He pointed at John. “I’m going to beat you within an inch of your life, Simm.” He tucked David tightly under his arm. “After I watch you beat him within an inch of his.”

David couldn’t stifle the chuckle. “Yeah, but only question is…”

John leapt over the coffee table and took off for the bedroom. “Will you wear the dress while you’re doing it?”

“Pretty please?” David added, giving Phil his best puppy-dog eyes.

He looked down at David. “I will n…” The eyes. Bloody hell, how did John ever manage to keep command of this one? “Oh bollocks.” He looked at John, who was standing at the bedroom door, slowly unbuttoning his shirt giving him his best ‘fuck me’ look. “Bollocks,” he swore again. He smiled and shook his head in disbelief. “How come you two are the nancys and I’m the one wearing the dress?”

“Erm… You look good in green?” David offered with a blinding grin.

“And you look good in red, Tennant. Nice big red welts across that skinny white arse of yours.” He let David out of his grip and gave him a nudge down the hallway. “Get to it, Johnny boy.”

Notes:

This falls somewhere in my "The Chair" verse, probably something like a part 5 or 6 bit of fun interlude. But when I wrote it, I hadn't decided that yet.

I suck at writing to a schedule, but someday I'll get to the huge parts where... Oh well... You'll have to wait and see.

(Since I'm so bad at working, if you like this verse and want to see more, best thing to do is subscribe to the "The Chair" series.)