Chapter Text
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“Rob Kazinsky resigned from the cast, effective yesterday afternoon,” Peter tells them all in the commissary over breakfast.
Aidan feels his heart plummet.
“Did you know?” Adam leans over and asks him. His breath smells like coffee.
Numbly, Aidan shakes his head. No. No, he didn’t know. Motherfucker.
“Have we got a replacement coming in?” Graham wonders, speaking for all of them.
“I have an actor coming in this morning to read for the part. I’d considered him the first time around,” Peter explains, “I think he’ll be a good fit. Aidan, Richard… come to my office at eleven. I want you running some scenes with him.”
“Who is it, Peter?” Richard asks.
“Name’s Dean O’Gorman. He’s a Kiwi, which is handy. I believe a few of you have worked with him before,” Peter tells them. “Rest of you, enjoy your day off.” He leaves the room, his P.A. bustling to keep up.
“Wow, some news, eh?” Nesbitt leans into Aidan’s other side. “What’d you do to drive him off, laddie?”
Aidan’s look is so sharp and sudden that James shuts up quickly.
“That name’s not familiar to me,” Adam wrinkles his brow, trying to place the actor.
“He’s on that Kiwi show about the family of Norse gods,” Stephen Hunter chimes in. “Little blonde guy. Kinda cocky.”
“Jed and I worked with him back in the nineties,” Will Kircher tells them. “We did Return to Treasure Island,” Will and Jed exchange a knowing, loaded glance that none of the rest of them can interpret. Jed’s smirk makes Aidan uncomfortable.
“Is he any good?” James wonders.
“Of course he’s good,” Martin settles it. “Peter wouldn’t be considering him if he weren’t.”
“A new big brother for Kili,” Graham comes up behind Aidan and massages the brunet’s shoulders. “How exciting!”
Adam is using his cell phone. “Ah!” he exclaims. “Now I know who he is.” He’s looking at the IMDB web site. “He likes to get naked on screen,” he smiles. “Uh… not that I’ve seen all these films. Just heard. Lots of male on male action.”
“Skin flicks?” Graham wonders.
“No,” Adam clarifies. “He just happens to land parts that require him to kiss other men—a lot.” He grins. “That, and show off his bum, which, as I can best recall, is quite lovely.”
“Wikipedia says he acquired his black belt at age ten,” Martin has his own cell phone out. He turns the device so Aidan and Richard can see Dean’s photo. “Good looking, eh?” he asks them. “Not much taller than I am. Wonder how Peter will sort that out.”
“Movie magic,” James tells him. “I have seen this one before,” the actor muses. “Oh, heavens, yes. That god-awful Hercules show from back in the 1990s!”
“Young Hercules,” Adam reads from the cell phone. “Dean played Iolaus, Hercules’ sidekick. I remember watching it back in the day. Awful show. Hot guys,” he shrugged. “Dean had amazing hair back then. Gorgeous blond curls…”
“…and leather pants. Those are hard to forget,” Richard smiled. “But having been forced to wear leather pants myself, I can empathize. There was a great deal of martial arts and fighting on that series. Would make sense that Jackson would seek him out.”
Their voices wash over Aidan, tinny and far away. He stands. “I’ll see you at eleven, Richard,” he tells the older actor, leaving his tray behind as he leaves the commissary. He swear he hears the words “lover’s spat” when they think he’s out of earshot.
Bloody hell, Rob! he thinks, when he’s outside in the cool air. Granted, he’d never really felt a close connection with Rob, despite the fact that the two of them were portraying what were supposed to be close siblings. But that lack of closeness was just as much his fault as Rob’s. What could have possibly driven the Brit away? He suddenly realized that it didn’t exactly matter. Eighty-eight days of filming lay behind them, but there were still countless to go. He’d go back to his trailer and research this O’Whatever character and try to keep this one from leaving. One thing was for certain: he was not going to be as touchy-feely with Dean as he’d been with Rob. It had clearly made Rob uncomfortable.
To Aidan’s pleasant surprise, Dean O’Gorman is Dean O’Gorgeous. Aidan did a quick YouTube search and found countless footage of the actor, both recent and older. And yes, he’d kissed men on film. And, shit, if it wasn’t hot. Dean, in his younger days, had a velvety voice and a beautiful head of angelic blond curls—and that, Aidan could certainly appreciate. The footage from Young Hercules made him both cringe at its dreadfulness, and drool at the sight of Dean’s ass in those ridiculously tight leather pants. Was this really a children’s show?
And this Almighty Johnsons gig… hrm. Anders is a right dick. No wonder Jed was smirking. What did he know about Dean that the rest of them had yet to find out? Aidan just prayed he’d have some chemistry with Dean. He’d felt nothing close to kinship with Rob’s Fili. Rob had been gorgeous, but aloof. Aidan only hoped he could find some sort of camaraderie with his replacement.
At 10:45, Aidan set off across the lot, meeting Richard outside the trailer park. Neither of them speak right away, but they walk together in a companionable silence.
“Yes,” Richard finally breaks the silence. “I Googled him.”
“Me too,” Aidan smiles.
“Let’s welcome our new blond friend into the Durin family,” Richard pats Aidan on the back.
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They all sense it, the second they start reading. He moves with grace and has a natural rapport with the camera.
“How on earth can I possibly be related to the two of you?” the blond wonders, when Aidan and Richard show up. “We look nothing alike.”
Richard wonders too. Dean is at least seven inches shorter than he is—and Aidan has a good five inches on the Kiwi. Dean has a surfer boy’s good looks and dimples you could stick quarters into. He’s just plain adorable, and he makes them laugh and puts them at ease from the get-go.
“You let us worry about the details,” Jackson tells Dean after about an hour of reading and photography. “I would like to put you into some Dwarven makeup after lunch. You lads too,” he turns to Richard and Aidan. Get some photos of the three of you, see what we can do to work on that family resemblance.
Then he takes Dean aside, but well within earshot of Aidan and Richard. “I’d like to bring you on as Fili,” he tells the blond. “I’ll fax a contract over to your agent after lunch. Glad to have you with us, mate,” Jackson shakes his hand. Dean is beaming and it’s infectious. “These two,” he turns back to Richard and Aidan, “can show you around set… where your trailer is, and all that. Lunch is at 12:30. Come back to make-up at 1:30 and we’ll put you through the process. Welcome aboard!”
“Glad to have you,” Richard offers his hand to Dean to shake. Their eyes cling for longer than is necessary, forcing Richard to blush.
“Brother!” Dean turns to Aidan, catching him in a surprising hug. Aidan discovers he rather likes it.
“Welcome to The Hobbit,” Aidan tells him, savoring the feeling of the livewire that is Dean’s body against his. “Let’s get you fed,” he says, pulling away, remembering his vow not to be touchy-feely.
“I need just two minutes to make a quick phone call,” Dean grins. “I’ll be right behind you,” As Aidan and Richard walk away they hear Dean speaking on his cell phone, “Mum? Guess what?”
The brunets exchange smiles. They’re already in love and don’t even know it.
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“Come, Dean,” Richard tells the blond. “Let’s introduce you around the lads. They’re a rag-tag bunch, but all right once you get to know them.” He leads Dean over to a table of six. There’s no room to sit down, but Richard pauses. “Everyone,” he says to get the actors’ attention, “this is Dean O’Gorman. It’s not officially official, but Peter just offered him the role of Fili. Dean, meet Stephen Hunter, Ken Stott, Graham McTavish, James Nesbitt, John Callun and Peter Hambleton.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you all,” Dean smiles. All six nod and mutter subdued hellos before turning back to their conversation.
“It’s always like this at lunch,” Aidan explains. “The lads tend to get a little cliquish.”
Dean sees Jed and Will up ahead and hopes for a warmer greeting, at least anticipating they might help him break the ice. He raises his hand, trying to catch Will’s eye. Will gives him an uncomfortable nod, and Jed doesn’t look his way at all. Nor does the other grey-haired actor they are seated with.
“And this is our little lunch bunch,” Aidan tells Dean. “Adam Brown, Martin Freeman, and Sir Ian McKellan.”
“It’s a genuine pleasure to meet all of you,” Dean offers his hand to Martin to shake. “I’m a big fan of your work, Martin. I’ve practically worn out my Sherlock DVDs.” Martin shakes his hand curtly and turns back to his salad. “And, Sir Ian,” Dean is suddenly at a loss for words. “I—I’m humbled to be able to share the screen with you.” He put his tray down next to Adam and sat. “Hi,” he smiles. “I’m Dean.”
“Nice to meet you, Dean,” Adam scrutinizes him over his glasses like a curious new specimen of bug. “Nice to have someone my size in the cast,” he says, and Dean can’t quite tell if it’s a compliment.
They eat, but only Aidan and Richard actually address Dean throughout the meal. Dean tries to engage Adam, Martin and Ian in conversation, but they dismiss him with brief, disinterested answers. Dean can’t help but think he’s acting too fan-nish, or over-eager… so he shuts up and nibbles on his ham sandwich.
Richard soon rises and says, “I have an errand to run before we get back to it. Dean, I’m sure Aidan can get you where you need to go.”
“Righto,” Aidan nods. “See you in thirty minutes, Rich.” He turns to the others. “Peter wants to see Dean in Fili gear and make-up this afternoon.” Their reaction is less then spectacular. Aidan bites his lip and looks at Dean apologetically. “I think they’re all eager to get back to shooting,” he says, in their defense. “Rob leaving caused a bit of a disruption.”
“Rob must have been quite an asset,” Dean said to the men at his table. “I hope I can fill his shoes. Uh, so to speak. I understand he was slightly larger in stature than I am.”
Annnd, crickets.
Beneath the table, Aidan lays his thigh against Dean’s in silent support.
Dean prays the rest of the cast warms to him over the next few days.