It happens on occasion. A look caught, a character broken. These are the moments you live for.
You’ve been trying to get this scene done for an age. The props are malfunctioning, the sound cues are out of time, and your line is difficult, damn it! You’re saying your line to Tim and Tim - Tim keeps cracking up.
The fact that it’s your joke that Tim has lost it at does give you a sense of satisfaction, and not just professional. It used to be a rare occurrence, back when you were all trying to prove yourselves to each other, but now, it seems you’re more relaxed and having a lot more fun. However, you really do need to get this scene finished, or you’ll be five minutes short for the show.
You try it another way, stamping your foot on the offbeat to try to distract yourself from the intense urge you have to corpse. You hear a muffled sob and yep, Tim’s got his head buried in the crook of his elbow. You try to maintain some sense of professionalism, but as soon as he looks up at you with those dopey blue eyes, you’re lost. Your face breaks out in a grin and all of a sudden the two of you are giggling like you’re undergraduates again, slightly tipsy reading through your first submission to the Footlights.
Mercifully, Graeme steps in and suggests everyone take a break to calm down. You head backstage to grab a glass of water, still chuckling to yourself.
Tim bounds over to where you’ve nearly managed to get a hold of yourself and grabs you by the shoulders.
“That was great, Bill. You were really great.”
“Thanks Timbo, but it’s not like we can use any of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re corpsing through it all!”
“I thought I was doing rather well, considering.”
Tim honestly looks so ashamed that he might have ruined the scene that you can’t help but take pity on him. You reach up to make some sort of conciliatory gesture and find your right hand caressing the side of his face. His hands are still framing your shoulders and your eyes lock.
Your lips suddenly feel very dry and you dart your tongue out to moisten them. His eyes flick downwards and back up to meet yours as you swallow.
Neither of you seems to have taken a breath in the last few seconds, and it’s Tim who makes the first move, his hands adjusting their position on your shoulders ever so slightly and pulling you towards him.
The hand you had innocently rested on the side of his face travels down to caress his neck, and the movement now is intentional. You both know what’s about to happen.
You take half a step forward. Your chest is almost pressed up against his, a strong inhalation would close the distance easily, but you seem incapable of breathing at the moment.
His arms lower, reaching further so they are resting at your waist and he inclines his head towards you. He’s still out of reach and so you pull him down the rest of the way. You may be short, but you refuse to stand on tiptoes to kiss Tim Brooke-bloody-Taylor.
Your lips meet with the barest of brushes, and a strangled sound comes out of the mouth of your best friend. Before you know it, he’s walking you three paces back so you’re up against the wall.
Now you do use the leverage the wall gives you to push up and get that little bit of extra height to do two very important things. One - bring your left arm up to mirror your right and rest both on his shoulders, pulling him gently towards you. Two – use this momentum to take control of the kiss for a perfect second. Tim is still pretty tight-lipped, and seemingly frozen. You open your eyes for a fraction of a second, realising this is the first time they’ve been open since you started. He looks absolutely petrified. Eyes shut tight, frown lines prominent on his brow and nostrils flared. This will not do.
You reach a hand up to tangle in his hair and give his head a scratch. He moans beautifully and his hands scrunch up the fabric of your shirt. You use his complete lapse of conscious thought to roll the two of you along so he now has his back to the wall. You press more firmly with your lips and part them slightly, trying to employ some of the various techniques you know have worked well with women over the years. Tim’s lips soften and you can feel the tension leave his body in the following exhalation. You move your lips against his and he seems to break out of his catatonic reverie. You’re surprised to find yourself no longer angling up to kiss him and realise he’s sunk a good six inches and is now fully being propped up by the wall.
You open your eyes and your breath catches. It’s a sight you’ll never forget. He is utterly beautiful. The frown lines are gone, and his gorgeous blond eyelashes are fluttering above his cheekbones. Your eyes close and you emit an involuntary groan, pressing your body more firmly against his. So different from the soft curves of the women you’re more familiar doing this with.
You are about to open your mouth further to experiment with introducing tongue to this particular exercise when you hear a pointed cough coming from behind you. Both of you freeze, almost entirely propped up by one of the BBC Television Studio walls and relax instantly when you recognise Graeme’s familiar chuckle.
“Well you two seem to have your giggles under control. Shall we finish filming the scene and call it a night?”