Chapter Text
The finale number was always a dozy. It didn’t matter what day it was, or what show it was, everything hinged on it. It was the last song of the night; it had to be big and high energy and impressive. Without it, people wouldn’t go home with that post-show satisfaction, they had to feel like it had to be an evening (and money) well spent. And tonight was a premier, which meant so much more was hanging on the success of the last three and a half minutes of the night. Even with the weeks of rehearsal, there was an anxiety that came with performing a new number, especially one that had never been heard before. Would the audience even like it? Would the music and the lyrics and the choreography go off without a hitch the way everyone was hoping? Only time would tell. The other challenge with the new finale was the quick change that came between songs. Depending on the line up of the show, which changed every two and half months, sometimes Buck had a whole two numbers to relax before the big finale, but some runs (like this one) had Buck running off stage with Hen and Lucy to blow through a quick change.
Backstage was always a riot of ostrich feathers and tulle, organza and taffeta, fishnets and lace and ruffles and rhinestones. Between costumes glittering in the dimmed glow of the makeup stations, everyone bustled back and forth, yapping quietly about after work plans, or current interpersonal drama while stagehands, follow-stop operators and wardrobe technicians tried to hustle performers into their correct positions. There was never a shortage of gossip backstage to keep everyone entertained. Athena tried to keep her dancers in line, would turn that strict mother stare on anyone when they started gossiping, but it was well known she and Hen were even worse over a glass of wine or brandy. That whirlwind of backstage, the chaos of the job and the messy lives of the people who called Lounge 118 home had become one of the only places Buck had ever found peace. He had come so far: taken a bus all the way from Pennsylvania, his one way ticket to a new life and a leap of faith to get out from under the thumb of his parents’ judgment. At the time he hadn’t really been sure what he was looking for in LA, he hadn’t been planning on stumbling into the burlesque lounge one night, he hadn’t been planning on being bewitched by the glitter and the glamor and the men and the women on the stage who were able to command their bodies in ways Buck had only ever been able to dream of.
He had been born as a miracle baby to save his brother’s life. His body had belonged to someone else from the moment of conception. The thought of owning himself had become such a foreign concept, it wasn’t until he stepped into this lounge, that Buck had realized that his body could be his own.
And here he was. Years later. Sliding himself out of the tight, high-waisted leather panties of “Tough Lover” with their wide suspenders and latex gloves while Bobby helped Hen into her golden bedazzled bra, a wardrobe person taking Buck’s sweaty costume from him with a silent nod. His body was finally his own, he was living a life he was proud of, and he had the entire 118 as a family who loved him for who he was, not who they wanted him to be.
Buck looked down to make sure the adhesive on the nude modesty thong he was wearing wasn’t peeling too much before sitting to tug the thigh-high black boots off when Josh, their stage manager, peeked around the curtain.
“2 minutes.”
The group echoed back a quiet thank you, 2. There was usually a built-in buffer of one of the smaller acrobatic routines built in between numbers, but this particular run had been unfortunately built with the penultimate number and the finale back-to-back with just a small gap for Athena’s ending speech between. Buck tugged harder on his boots and finally got the first one off with a stifled grunt, almost hitting Bobby with the shoe.
“Here, need some help?”
Buck nodded out of appreciation as he stripped off the gloves stretched over his biceps and Bobby knelt down to assist with the other boot. While the lounge actually worked with a local costume house to get their outfits made, it was Bobby who did their in-house repairs and alterations, and he knew each and every piece of costume like the back of his hand. He had his glasses pushed up onto his graying hair, the black cord of the lanyard laying against the back of his neck, and Buck couldn’t help but smile a little. It was Bobby that had really given him that first shot – well, where credit was due, it was actually Eddie who had hired him as a waiter. But Bobby had been the one to convince Athena to even let Buck audition when Julie had gotten pregnant.
“Thanks,” Buck said, sliding his feet into the bedazzled heels waiting next to his chair. He reached out to help Bobby stand even as he protested, insisting he wasn’t an old man. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,”
Bobby, who just rolled his eyes, reached for the top of Buck’s costume as Buck stood and shimmied into the nude underwear. It had been a process, learning the ins and outs of dancing and theater life, and the tips and tricks that went with the costumes. Thankfully Buck had really always been comfortable with himself and his masculinity that the thongs and the waxing and the pasties hadn’t been a stumbling block for him. In fact it had been . . . affirming to put on his first corset and bra set. The way the costume had framed his body – big and strong with this softness underneath that the fabric and boning had embraced perfectly had been newly intoxicating. The lines of the panties and the body suits followed the cut of his hips, the bras and corsets cupped his chest, and the hug of a garter belt around his waist and his thighs, straining with the movement of his dance made him feel –
Well, hot.
Maybe part of it was that he felt like himself in these costumes, in the lingerie and even the tear-away suits with their sequined tuxedo stripes. He had just never felt this good in his life. Able to garner the attention of the audience, to demand that they look at him, at this body that was his.
Buck turned to let Bobby help him into the golden bustier. For the big group numbers, everyone had slight variation to their costumes while maintaining an overall design and this costume was a two piece for Buck, the open mid-drift festooned in chains of crystal beads that sparkled when he moved his torso, shimmering in the midnight spotlights like he was made of moonlight.
With the matching bottoms on and the back of the costume clasped, the call for places came and Buck quickly fell in line with his fellow dancers. There was an excited buzz that filled the stage-left wings, anticipation filling the dim space as Athena stepped out onto the stage to introduce the final number and to thank the audience for joining them. Through the small gap in the black masking curtains, Buck could see the way her skin shone, oiled and beautiful in the light. Her wig was a giant teased out cloud of beautiful curls under the small, peaked cap perfectly balanced on top, the gem encrusted police badge reflecting like a stop light. Buck thought she looked like a goddess as she teased the audience, wide smile and crinkled nose. She explained that the finale was a special number, one that had been written by one of their very own – the man that had been mixing drinks all night. The audience clapped politely, some turning to look back to the bar as if trying to spot this fledgling songwriter.
“That's right! The music and lyrics are by our very own Edmundo Diaz! Come on people, give him some serious love!!” Athena laughed into the mic, her voice echoing warmly before glancing behind her at the dancers waiting in the wings.
“Well, I guess I should stop hogging up the spotlight, huh?” She laughed, the audience joining in with a couple cheers when she winked at them. “Enjoy your night everyone, and don’t forget to tip our beautiful waitstaff, and our even more beautiful bartenders!”
Another cheer went up, and Buck leaned over to try and get a peek at the bar, looking for one specific man in the black vest and bowler hat uniform but unable to see him from this angle. Buck remembered that first night that he had stepped into the lounge, the way he had spent his last 20 dollars on the cover charge, but the performers on the stage had just bewitched him. He had had to see more.
And he had seen so much. Athena had opened the show, introduced the dancers – men and women and a couple that were neither – and Buck had quite literally been star struck sitting in the dim light at the solid wood bar and its old school metal foot bar. He had been so lost in the world of the performance, in the world that Athena, Hen, Chimney, Lucy, Julie, and Jonah had painted on the stage, that he hadn’t noticed the bartender behind him until the man spoke.
“What can I get you?”
“Huh? Oh – I’m –”
“Uh huh, well, here. Welcome to LA. On the house,”
The bartender had slid a pink martini across the bar to Buck as the biggest, most beautiful brown eyes Buck had ever seen ringed in smudged liner met his own clear blue ones. He’d had a mole under the left eye and warm tan skin, and Buck felt like he had swallowed his tongue for a moment with the way the guy had glowed like he was lit inside by the setting sun. Huffing out a grin and a laugh he had thanked the man and begged to know how he could end up on stage, under the light, in the lashes and lipstick and beautiful costumes. The guy had given him a smile and directed Buck to the stage door, telling him to look for Athena.
“Oh, and tell her Eddie sent you,”
“R – right. Eddie. Got it. Thank you.”
Unfortunately, that meeting hadn’t gone too well. But one thing Buck had always been good at was waiting tables. And one thing he came to learn was that Eddie was a sucker for a pretty blue-eyed boys made of moonlight.
The red velvet curtain had closed on Athena’s speech, and the buzz of anticipation was growing. Buck’s stomach clenched with excitement. He wouldn’t exactly call himself the star of the show – it was about the entire cast of course, everyone had their own strengths when it came to dancing or singing or both, but when he did get to take center stage? Everything just felt good. The attention and the pound of his heart, the way he knew everyone was looking at him doing the thing he loved.
It was everything to him.
The curtain rose and the stage was blanketed in that thick, potent darkness before the white spotlight illuminated Buck from behind. It was a misconception that black outs are actually completely black, especially in a venue like the 118, but from the audience, Buck knew the image was striking. The diamantés on his shoulders caught the spot as the band struck their first note and Buck joined in, the golden outline of his body the only thing visible for a moment. Then the strobes went off, and Buck’s voice carried over the audience, deep and rich, lifting the lyrics Eddie had written right off the pages.
Orange and yellow lights filled the stage, and soon the rest of the 118 joined him, heels stomping across the thick layers of ancient paint coating the wood. The finale was fast-paced, quick and almost frenetic to close the show, the stage nearly crowded with performers, and while finales always elicited a larger reaction from the crowd (hopefully) this one felt different already. People were cheering and gasping with each hip pop and body roll and high heeled stomp, mesmerized by the performers on stage – and shocked when other dancers popped up in the crowd, climbing onto a couple tables to dance.
Buck couldn’t help but grin. His muscles were already tired from the entire show he’d just performed, and his voice was feeling the strain; his skin was sticky with sweat and he knew his curls were probably plastered to the back of his neck by now. But he had never felt as at home as he did here. The costume’s underwire dug into his armpit and the adhesive on his crotch pulled but nothing had ever made him feel like this. He felt like he was glowing up on this stage, he felt like he had fire running through his veins – in the best way possible. It wasn’t like the fire that he had felt as a kid, burning frustration and abandonment that licked at the semi-self inflicted wounds from falls and stunts and anything to grab the attention and affection of his parents. This fire felt good. It thrummed through him in time with the music, lighting him up like the caress of his boyfriend, made him feel loved for who he was. All of him.
Rhinestones, eyelash glue, stubble and all.
The music hit a high and Buck snapped up from the forward bend in the choreography, sliding his hands over the length of his torso, gaze turned out over the audience. Even with the full strength of the fresnel lanterns beating down on him from the most up-stage bar on the grid, Buck could see the audience. He could see their little candles on the small round tables, the empty dishes from dinner and drinks, he could see their pleased faces, alight with glee. But against the far wall of the house, with its antiqued mirrors hanging behind it and shelves of glimmering bottles, was the bar that he and Eddie had met at. And standing right in the middle, arms resting wide on his side of the bar was that very man with the mole under his eye and the smile full of sunshine.
Buck grinned wider, turning his back to the audience and shaking his ass just for Eddie. He could hear the man’s laugh even over the cries of the patrons and the melody of the band. His man.
It had taken them a while to figure it out, their feelings and what they meant to one another. They had started as friends – Eddie had had a wife when they met anyway so even if Buck had maybe been a little head over heels it wouldn’t have mattered. But they had built the sturdy base of co-dependency early on; over late nights and inside jokes at work, though running errands or taking Eddie’s son Christopher on countless zoo trips, play dates, and school functions. Being a single dad in LA wasn’t easy, and Buck had easily picked up the slack – had wanted to pick up the slack. Especially after he had had to move in with Eddie, which was a whole other turn of events.
But they had just clicked, the three forming a family unit while Eddie’s estranged wife worked in New York and Buck explored relationships with a reporter and an intoxicatingly exciting pilot, both of whom left him just as bereft as Abby had back in Pennsylvania. And yeah, the whole time he had harbored a secret little crush on Eddie, but he had always figured it wouldn’t go anywhere because Eddie was heterosexual and married – even if the marriage was a little rocky, and Buck was okay with that. He would have rather had Eddie and Chris in his life as friends than not at all. He still had his dancing to keep him busy most of the time, the crash course he put himself through to learn every single routine in the off chance that he could convince Athena to give him an audition.
Then Shannon had asked for a divorce and Eddie’s life had gotten messy in more ways than one and Buck could still remember the moment Eddie had come out to him, fuzzy and drunk at Maddie and Chimney’s wedding. It had been a hushed revelation across from one another at their reception table, Eddie’s cheeks flushed the same pink as his suit and eyes glassy from drinking and unshed tears.
“I’m gay, Buck,”
They’d shared a kiss that night, one that tasted like tequila and beer and orange juice, out on the darkened balcony of the wedding venue. It was the best kiss Buck had ever had. Judging from the look on Eddie’s face, it was the best kiss he’d ever had too.
Buck could hear another of Eddie’s big whoops from behind the bar, and he flashed another smile over in that direction as the cast gathered together in the middle of the stage, the lights flashing for them to strike a pose and snap in time to Eddie’s music. Hen spoke out a couple lines in the song before she and Buck shared the next big belting note and he got to utilize his strength to lift her off the stage, her arms spread wide. The crowd went wild for this and Buck’s heart ached with how much they loved it, loved him, loved them all as the music swelled and the finale came to a climax before the lights went down in an instant blackout.
The resulting applause roared in Buck’s ears as he panted to catch his breath, holding Hen in that final lift until the curtain had come down. Work lights went up, just enough for the cast to rearrange themselves for the curtain call, all linking arms around each other’s waists, Buck ending up between Lucy and Chimney, energy zipping through each of them as they caught their breaths and flashed each other big smiles. The curtain went back up and the house was full of thunderous clapping, whistles, and even stomping – loud enough to make Buck’s ears ring. Buck could see that most people were on their feet, but then he was blinded by the sight of Eddie being hauled up onstage by some of the band members for his own bow. The song was his of course. It was his debut.
Buck broke away from the lineup and pulled Eddie into a hug as he lifted a shy hand to the audience. Eddie was already not the tallest man in the world, but when Buck wore his heels, he towered over him, and he had to stoop to press a bright red kiss to Eddie’s cheek. The lipstick didn’t smudge – too much, anyway – but another cheer echoed through the building from cast, crew, and patrons as Eddie looked up at Buck like there was no one else in the world.
“You were beautiful tonight,” he said, just loud enough for Buck to hear, and he knew he was cheesing so bad now as Eddie set his hands on Buck’s arms.
“Your song was more beautiful,” Buck replied and Hen pushed him aside so she and the rest of the cast could hug Eddie, Bobby and Athena coming out to join them before the curtain lowered for real this time.
There was the buzz of talk again as everyone filed backstage and into the makeup area, finding their mirrors easily. That feverish energy of the show had been let out with the finale, and now the backstage had a calm to it that was always grounding. The performers started to undress, some hurrying to get home while others took their time for once that night. People finalized plans, congratulated each other, or ruminated on a missed step in their routine while Buck sat at his station and flicked the lights on. He had pictures tucked into the frame of the mirror; him and his sister, he and Eddie and Chris, a big group shot of the whole 118 - things to remind him of the happiness he had found there. The little vanity was cluttered with his makeup: lipsticks and foundation tubes, glittering cream shadows and spare lashes, the random lost earring or pastie making up a cluttered mess that he knew drove Eddie a little crazy when he had to sort through Buck’s station to find their car keys or the bottle of ibuprofen Buck kept on hand.
Glancing behind himself in the mirror, he spotted Eddie, lingering backstage to talk with Athena, and by his grin Buck could tell it was good news. He couldn’t believe how lucky he had been to end up with his best friend being his soulmate. Eddie was a person who had believed in Buck from the very first moment they had met, and honestly he may have been the first person besides Maddie to ever believe in Buck. He trusted Buck with his own son, with his own life, and he took all the love Buck was always bursting with like it was nothing when other people had been scared off by the intensity. As easily as he took it, he gave that love back tenfold. Eddie was bursting with love just as much as Buck had been.
Buck looked down, still grinning as he stuck his lashes back onto their plastic tray – he could swing one more show out of them – and felt the soft press of lips to his cheek, the rough graze of Eddie’s stubble.
“You were amazing, baby,” Eddie smiled, meeting Buck’s eyes in the mirror, his hands on Buck’s wide shoulders. “You always are.”
“Eddie – ” Buck’s cheeks lit up pink under his makeup and Eddie just shook his head, leaning down for another kiss, a real one. It was quick, just a gentle press of his lips before he pulled back, rubbing a hand over Buck’s shoulders.
“I gotta go do my end of night. See you in a bit,”
“Yeah, see you.”
