Pairing: Leighton Meester/Garrett Hedlund
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.
I promised a Leighton/Garrett RPF one-shot to some of you on my flist and though this is not what I had planned at all, I had to write something immediately after last night, especially with all of the rumors of these two being a true couple now. I will probably write another one – the one I meant to write – for this pairing but in the meantime, I hope this isn’t too atrocious. Forgive me if it is. I’ve never written anything like this before but lately, I’ve begun shipping real life people for the first time ever. Thanks in advance!
He finds her on the red carpet as she is getting her picture taken and she is both flattered and surprised. His hair is short but still looks completely untouched by a comb and his black suit is tailored and he looks good. She smiles when he grins widely at her and then he slips a hand onto the small of her back, standing next to her.
“Trying to steal the spotlight?” She teases him and the flashes of cameras grow more intense. She keeps her smile plastered on her face.
“Always,” he grins easily and she laughs. “Don’t let me mess up tonight.”
“So you’re my responsibility?” She laughs again and tilts her head to look up at him.
He is already looking at her, his smile not so wide but it still pulls at one corner of his mouth and there is a seriousness in his eyes. The flashbulbs are nearly blinding.
“Always,” he then says and she feels a pull in her stomach that has become a normal sensation for her when she’s around him.
Questions of whether or not they’re dating follows them down the red carpet. They don’t answer but he is holding her hand and when she is stopped several times to be asked who she’s wearing, he waits for her.
When they enter the massive ballroom crammed with as many tables as possible and slowly beginning to fill with people, she tries to act calm and collected even though she is at the Golden Globes, presenting an award and holy crap, they just passed a table with Natalie Portman’s name on it. This is such a big night – one of the biggest of her career so far – but looking at Garrett as they follows an usher to where their table is, he looks as if this is something he does every night.
Their table is near the back, up on the second tier, not that either are expecting something different. He plops down in the seat with his name card on the plate and when he notices that there is someone sitting between them, he swiftly switches her card so she is next to him instead. She remains standing however, too excited to sit just yet even though her shoes are already beginning to hurt her feet.
“Where are we headed after this?” He asks. He says “we” too easily, as if it’s always been part of the evening’s plan to spend all of it together.
She finally sits down and already, he’s pulling at his tie. She smiles, reaching out to stop him. “I got an invitation for the HBO after-party at Circa 55,” she answers.
“Me, too. We’ll go to that one,” he decides. “Let’s walk around.”
He offers her his hand as he stands up again and she takes it.
The room is filling up with so many people and he keeps holding her hand under the pretense of not wanting to be separated in the crowd. She sees so many celebrities, the celebrities she can only hope to be like someday, and Jeff Bridges stops when he spots them – well, Garrett – and the two men embrace in a hug. He still holds her hand and hugs the older man with one arm. Olivia Wilde squeals when she sees him as if they hadn’t just seen one another a few days ago for a Tron promotional appearance and they are both smiling and laughing as they embrace. She pretends to not be bothered with that.
She realizes that he is a bigger star than her and knows so many more people. She’s never had a serious hit before where she’s one of the headlining stars except for Country Strong and she can’t exactly introduce him to Gwyneth since he obviously knows her. And she doubts that too many of the people in this room watch a show on the CW.
And then Garrett pulls them through the maze of tables until she suddenly finds herself standing in front of Mark Wahlberg. She remembers that Garrett and him had starred in a movie together a few years ago about brothers. They don’t hug but they shake hands and Garrett actually introduces her and Mark shakes her hand, too.
“Are you two singing tonight?” Someone asks and turning, she nearly gasps when she sees Amy Adams standing there, smiling. She and Mark are sitting at the same table. “Is anyone actually singing tonight?”
“Not tonight,” she manages to shake her head and reminds herself to breathe. “Our song wasn’t nominated,” she then feels the need to add.
“That’s a shame. It was my favorite song in the movie,” Amy smiles kindly.
And holy crap, Amy Adams saw the movie! She nearly squeals but again, contains herself. Garrett gives her hand a squeeze and then cocks his head to the side. She nods and after saying their good-byes, they begin to head back to their table. They pass Matt Damon, Angelina Jolie, Colin Firth and Robert Downey Jr. along the way. Already, tonight is amazing and it hasn’t even really begun yet.
Dinner is served and the room is so loud with conversations and plates and silverware clanking together. She’s too excited and nervous to eat and instead, mostly sips at her flute of champagne, feeling her stomach flutter. Garrett has no problem however with nerves, it seems, and after he finishes his chicken, he asks if she’s going to eat hers.
“Here,” she laughs, switching their plates so his empty one is now in front of her.
“You’re quiet,” he says, wiping at his mouth with a napkin. “I’ve known you for a while and I wouldn’t exactly call you quiet.” He laughs when she elbows him.
“Just looking around. It’s kind of incredible, isn’t it?” She asks as she looks at him.
He shrugs, more chicken in his mouth. “I guarantee you that most people in this room put their pants on one leg at a time.”
And she laughs because she realizes that they are completely different but at the same time, she also realizes that he’s right. The butterflies in her stomach lessen and she is able to reach over to her plate in front of him and stab a piece of carrot with her fork. He smiles at her.
The last of the plates are just whisked away when an usher approaches them and says that it’s time to get backstage to get themselves ready as the announcer introduces host Ricky Gervais and the comedian comes out onto the stage to enthusiastic applause.
As they walk, weaving in and out of the tables, she feels his hand at her elbow. She sees Hugh Laurie, her costar in The Oranges, and he waves at her and she beams, waving back. She was in Date Night with Tina Fey and they walk right past her table. She laughs when Tina gives her a swat on the ass and winks at her.
Backstage is a whirlwind of activity and she looks over to the see the table with the rows of shining award trophies on display. One day, she tells herself. She hears laughter and gasps from the audience at the introduction jokes Ricky are telling and a woman stands in front of her, touching up her makeup and hair.
“No, I like it like this,” Garrett says, moving his head away when someone tries to touch his hair. She bites down on her lip to keep from laughing.
Someone hands her the envelope with the winner’s name inside and she holds it tightly.
“Do you want to read the winner?” She asks him. The presentation for Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role in a Series, Mini-Series or Motion Picture Made for Television is going to be pretty straightforward, both just going to be reading from the teleprompter in front of them.
“No, you do it,” he shakes his head, his hands in his pockets. He then looks at her. “You look beautiful, by the way. I don’t think I’ve said that tonight.”
“Thank you,” she smiles at him, that pull in her stomach returning. She reaches out and touches his hair. He lets her. “You look beautiful, too.”
“Handsome, Leigh,” he corrects her and she laughs. “Don’t trip out there.”
She gasps and smacks him in the chest. “Why would you say that? Now that’s all I’m going to be thinking about!” She smacks him again when he starts laughing at her.
Someone offers them bottles of water and Garrett takes one. He takes a sip and then offers it to her. She’s feeling too nervous again and shakes her head.
He begins talking to someone and she can feel a picture being taken of them backstage but she really can’t focus on anything except watching the show on the large television screens set up. And then all too soon, an usher says its time and Garrett looks at her. He smiles and she takes a deep breath, looking up at him and smiles in return. He searches her face closely and then nods slightly.
“See you out there,” he grins easily, lazily, and then he’s led away so he can enter from the other side of the stage.
There is applause and then the announcer says their names. “Leighton Meester and Garrett Hedlund!” She takes another deep breath, trying to keep her hands and knees from shaking, and she walks out onto the stage, the lights bright and warm and her eyes immediately lock with Garrett’s. She holds up her dress as she walks and there is a mantra of Don’t trip repeating over and over in her head but she feels already better as they close the distance between them. He is grinning again at her and when they meet at the microphone, he’s still looking at her.
And then they’re talking, reading the teleprompter in front of them. She can hardly hear herself over the roaring of the blood in her ears and she can only hope that her voice isn’t shaking like she thinks it might be. When the cameras cut to show the nominations, they hear a “Hey! Hey!” from the audience and they both look. Garrett begins laughing when they see Brad Pitt, his co-star from Troy, in the audience with Angelina Jolie, waving and then he gives Garrett the finger. Garrett laughs, giving him the finger in return, and Brad grins. She can’t help but laugh herself and when the cameras turn back to them, they are now smiling at one another again.
“And the award goes to,” her fingers easily unfold the envelope and Garrett leans in close to read the name, his chest pressing into her arm. “Chris Colfer, Glee,” she announces and then there are screams and applause as the young actor, surrounded by his cast mates, gets to his feet, his mouth open, clearly in shock.
When he gets on stage, he shakes Garrett’s hand before taking the trophy from him and Leighton leans in, kissing his cheek. She feels his hand tremble when she grasps it and she smiles at him. And then as he gives his speech, she steps back, feeling Garrett’s hand on the small of her back. She looks up at him and he leans down into her ear.
“Wanna get drunk?” He asks, his voice low and it almost makes her close her eyes and shiver. Instead, she almost laughs and purses her lips together to keep from doing so.
There is more applause and they follow Chris and the usher off stage again. Her eyes widen when Chris suddenly spins around and hugs her tightly. She laughs and he is breathing heavily, still shaking.
“Congratulations,” she says and he looks like he’s about to start crying.
“Thank you,” he says as if she had anything and everything to do with him winning.
Once Chris is led away to have his picture taken dozens of times, she turns and finally is able to laugh when Garrett is standing there with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.
“How did you even get that so fast?” She asks, taking one of the empty flutes.
“I have my ways,” he is grinning and then he takes her free hand.
He pulls her away and she follows him because it’s clear that he’s already scoped their way of escape, somehow. A part of her wants to go back to their table so they can watch the show but at the same time, there is such a huge sense of relief that they have done what they were supposed to do and now, she can relax. There is a maze of back hallways and she sees Andrew Garfield from The Social Network leaning against the wall in front of one of the less populated women’s bathrooms.
“You didn’t have to come with me,” the door is opened and someone laughs and because she’s the type to follow Hollywood, she knows that she’s Andrew’s girlfriend, Shannon Woodward. The table for the movie is full with cast and crew and they are sitting at different tables that evening. Andrew grins and takes the brunette’s hand, pulling her to him. He then notices them approaching.
“How is it? Reading off that thing?” He asks them.
“Not a big deal,” Garrett shakes his head.
“You’ll do fine,” she then assures him though she hears later that when he is doing his own presentation onstage, he trips horribly over his words.
They continue down the hallway and turn a corner. “Here we are!” Garrett announces like it’s some grand location though it’s only another carpeted hallway with dark paneled walls and closed doors. He then sits down on the floor, leaning against a wall, and twists the top off the champagne. He looks up at her, still standing. He smiles and pats the floor next to him.
“My dress,” she laughs, feeling lightheaded as if she’s already drank an entire bottle of the bubbly. “It’s from the Burberry Prorsum collection.”
“I have no idea what that is,” he says and then looks around before tilting his head back up towards her and pats his lap. She blushes but smiles and with a sigh, she turns and sits down on his lap, sideways, stretching her legs out in front of her.
“I’m not hurting you?” She asks, trying to get comfortable but trying not to shift too much, and he smirks, shaking his head.
“Yeah, right,” he then pours them both champagne and sets the bottle down. “That slit is probably the hottest thing in the world,” he tells her, his eyes on the thigh-high slit at the front of her dress. She watches him as he reaches a hand out and touches the bare flesh of her leg. His hand is warm and she feels herself instinctively lean in closer to him. He turns and their eyes lock. “You’re warm,” he murmurs softly.
“You are, too,” she nods, a lump in her throat she tries to swallow past. She wants to break the mood, tell him that she saw a lot more of her when they were filming her scenes for the movies but his eyes grow dark and his fingers are still on her skin.
There have been rumors floating around about the different women he’s supposedly seeing. He’s one of Hollywood’s “Next Big Thing” and with two movies out, the attention on him is only growing. During their promotion for the movie, she was constantly asked what she thought of Garrett and every answer was true and genuine. Working with him had been an amazing experience and spending time with him is a joy. She wishes they had more reason to spend time together but with promotion for the moving waning down, she feels as if maybe the last few opportunities are slipping by.
She is friends with Blake but right now, the only thing anyone hears about her is how she’s dating Ryan Gosling or Leonardo DiCaprio. And she doesn’t want that for herself. She doesn’t want to be another Hollywood actress who fell for her co-star even though she knows that that’s exactly what is happening. She wants people to know her for her acting, not her personal life.
“How can you walk in those?” Garrett breaks through her thoughts and she jerks her eyes away from his to look down at her Jimmy Choo heels.
“Very carefully,” she answers and he smiles.
From the corner of her eye, she seems him looking at her profile and his face moves closer to hers. She closes her eyes and his nose is suddenly at the corner of her jaw. His hand leaves her leg and touches the other side of her neck. She whispers his name and suddenly, the hallway feels as if it’s closing in around them.
“If you could have sex with anyone here, who would it be?” He asks her, his lips to her ear and she feels as if she can’t breathe but her heart is pounding rapidly at the same time.
“Colin Firth,” she answers immediately.
“Seriously. Answer faster,” he teases and she smiles, blushing, but it fades as his lips brush against her jaw. “What about you?” She manages to ask, sounding breathless.
He doesn’t answer but his hand drops from her neck, returning to the slit of her dress. She doesn’t stop him when his fingers glide up her leg and disappear underneath the fabric.
They have kissed before but this one is entirely different. There aren’t cameras or a dozen crew members studying their every move. They aren’t acting. This is entirely them. He still has scruff on his face that scratches her upper lip like it did when they were filming. They both taste of champagne and when he opens his mouth against hers, she is more than ready for this. More than ready for him.
She’s barely eaten all day because of the nerves but when they get to the after-party, she keeps drinking flutes of champagne. They stick together the whole night and his arm is almost always around her waist and she leans into him because she’s feeling giddy from everything. They hang around with Jason Segal, who Garrett has known since before either of them were famous and they play poker together almost every week, and he’s just as funny in person as he is on screen. He seems quite pleased that he can make her laugh so much.
“You’re drunk,” Garrett teases her at the bar, getting her a glass of water. “No one is that funny. Jason’s ego is out of control now,” he says and she laughs again, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“You’re coming home with me tonight,” she then tells him bluntly.
“Am I now?” He asks, amused as his own arms wrap around her waist. She is swaying and he sways with her. “Going to let me take advantage of you in your current state?”
Her teeth nip at his chin playfully. “I should have let you take advantage a long time ago,” she tells him, her eyes staring into his and she suddenly feels extremely sober.
She feels bold and sexy and she thinks of the months filming and then promoting, all of the hugs and touches and friendly flirting and kind words. Of being with him in that recording booth in Nashville, singing their song for the soundtrack. Of tonight, holding his hand and kissing him and sitting on his lap. This has been building a long time, since the first day they met, and it doesn’t matter if she’s had a bit too much to drink. If anything, it’s only pushed her to finally make a move since he seems content with the flirting that never leads anywhere.
He doesn’t say anything to that. Instead, he leans down until his lips are almost touching hers and his eyes stare into hers. “Let’s get out of here then,” he breathes against her lips.