Taking Direction
by
Bluespirit

Fandom: RPS
Pairing: Liam Neeson/Eric Bana
Rating: soft R
Summary: I really can't dignify it with one.
Word count: 1026
Warning: crack!fic

Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. The author is not making any claims as to the real life sexualities or preferences of the people portrayed here. This is purely for entertainment, not profit.

Notes:
I really have no excuse for this but once the image had taken root in my brain I had to do something about it.

Eric paused before the non-descript door and took a slow, deep breath and then one more for good measure. He had no reason to be nervous, he knew that, but it didn't stop the slight fluttering in his stomach. He was going to be working with Liam Neeson.

Liam Neeson!

Christ, he felt fucking terrified, out of his league but also exhilarated, all at the same time. He hadn't been able to believe it when his agent rang up saying that he'd got the part opposite one of the world's most renowned actors. And now here he was, meeting his co-star for the first time at the read-through like some petrified, completely ecstatic mess. He was soooo fucked!

Gathering himself he blew out a long breath, squared his shoulders and opened the door.

It was just a hotel room, well large suite really, but no different from any other…except for the fact that it had Liam-fucking-Neeson in it. Liam Neeson - standing by the picture window with the sun casting a shimmering, almost ethereal, light all around him. Eric swallowed and tried to smile, tried to appear professional and not quite the over-awed fanboy that he actually was.

"Eric! Nice to meet you at last," Liam said, coming forward and shaking Eric's hand.

"Same here," Eric replied, wincing inwardly at his inane response. "We the first to arrive then?" he added. He managed to drag his gaze away from penetrating blue eyes and glanced around the room, pleased that his composure was returning. Though he did spoil the affect slightly by belatedly realising that he was still clutching at Liam's hand…that warm, large hand. Kicking himself again, he let go and stepped back slightly.

"Yes, and it appears that we're the only ones on the call sheet today," Liam said smoothly, his relaxed, whisky-soaked accent helping to soothe Eric's jangling nerves. "I found this note when I got here," he added as he passed a type written sheet to Eric.

'Mr Neeson and Mr Bana,' the note began, 'Please find two scripts in the sealed envelope on the desk. I would like you to work through the enclosed scenes together, improvising as you feel fit. The purpose of this exercise is for you to get a grasp of your characters and of each other…' The last part had been scribbled out and then replaced with the words 'and your characters' chemistry.'

Eric raised an eyebrow at that and then continued reading. 'I won't be attending today's rehearsal but will be reviewing the rushes later.' Eric looked over at several cameras already set up around the room, most focussing on the bed for some reason. 'Any props you might need are in the bedside table. I look forward to viewing your collaboration. Signed, The Director.'

Eric finished reading the frankly bizarre note and looked across at his co-star. "Does this seem a bit strange? I mean, I know that I haven't had a lot of experience with big budget movies but I've never known anything like this before."

Liam nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. "It's a first for me too but then you never know with Steven."

"Steven?" Eric asked, completely perplexed.

"Steven Spielberg," Liam said with a patient smile. "Our director?"

"But I thought that Martin Scorsese was directing!"

"That wasn't what I was lead to believe when I signed," Liam said, now looking equally perplexed.

"So what's going on then?" Eric asked.

"Perhaps if we look at the script it might give us a clue," Liam suggested, opening the slim envelope lying on the desk and passing one of the two scripts to Eric.

Eric smiled in thanks though his mind was a mass of questions. Unfortunately his confusion only deepened and turned to extreme embarrassment as he read the first scene. He felt himself flush bright red, his mouth going dry. After reading the scene again, just to make absolutely certain that he wasn't going mad, he slowly lifted his eyes to his co-star's face.

"Um…wrestling?" Eric squeaked, heat flooding through him.

Liam looked back steadily, his handsome features hardly showing any break in composure. "Wrestling," he nodded and then smiled lazily, his eyes turning dark as midnight. "Oiled wrestling…*naked*, oiled wrestling," he added, licking his lips in what Eric could only think of as a predatory way.

"And that's o-okay with you?" Eric asked nervously, his voice breaking again.

Liam didn't say anything more but his smile deepened as he slowly began to remove his clothes. Eric could feel his breath quickening and his heart sped up alarmingly as acres of smooth, tanned, gorgeousness were exposed before him. He was going to faint…or explode...or something! As the final piece of fabric fell to the floor he moaned helplessly at the glorious sight - Liam was beautiful…and naked…and fucking *huge* - all over! Although Eric knew himself to be a big man he felt dwarfed by the figure before him, charisma and raw sex appeal adding to the impressive body until Eric felt completely overwhelmed.

Liam's smile grew more feral and he raised a hand, one elegant finger slowly beckoning Eric closer. Eric swallowed and obeyed, helpless to do anything else.

Liam's eyes twinkled with approval as he reached for the oil…

~

It was only later - much, much later - as they lay together naked, oiled and extremely satisfied, that Eric glanced again at the note from their mysterious director. The letterhead caught his eye ~

'BluespiritWinsTheLottery Productions'

He frowned at the unfamiliar moniker. What on earth did that mean? Luckily any further contemplation was quickly forgotten as a large, teasing hand drifted sensuously across his chest and began to slowly, yet thoroughly, melt his brain…


The end