Scott didn’t want to get used to living in Gramercy Park. It wasn’t his kind of place, and these weren’t his kind of people. They wandered around in their clothes that cost more than a month’s pay, with their noses in the air and little dogs whose whole purpose in life was to fit in a purse, and they didn’t do or think or say anything important. He had nothing to say to them, and they had nothing to say to him.

The only problem was, he was getting used to living there. He’d moved in two months ago, and he already had a favorite coffee shop and a favorite running route. He had neighbors who said good morning to him every day, and he didn’t hate them. Sometimes he even gave them advice on their workout routines and petted their little dogs.

The little dogs, who did indeed inhabit their purses, weren’t even that bad.

It wasn’t that Scott wanted to hate the place where he lived. If he’d just lucked into the place or won a free apartment he’d probably have settled in just fine, in a matter of days in fact. The truth was, though, he wasn’t staying. He was going to have to go back to Astoria, and re-acclimate to dirty and noisy streets. He didn’t want to have to sigh over smiling, friendly people and dogs who just wanted to cuddle.

Living with Danny, as a roommate, wasn’t even that bad. Danny footed the bill for a housekeeper, so the place was usually spotless. Neither of them was home all that often. They had dinner together once per week, an official Date Night, and they’d slowly become slightly less awkward over time.

Scott could almost see liking Danny. Okay, he did like Danny, kind of. He liked Danny’s practical mindset, even if Danny’s tastes were about as exciting as pre-sliced white sandwich bread. Under other circumstances, specifically the kind of circumstances that involved being a guy who was not Scott, he would probably want to get to know Danny better. Maybe he’d want to date Danny. Maybe he would want to do more - maybe he’d even be willing to kiss Danny.

But that wasn’t going to happen. He was so far beyond anything of the sort it was laughable, and he just wanted to go and scrub the skin right off his bones at the thought. Besides, Danny definitely didn’t like him. He’d made that plenty clear over the past few weeks. Even if Danny was being tolerant and all that of Scott’s idiosyncrasies, he lacked the patience or the interest to try to work Scott through all of his issues.

And that was fine. It was all as it should be. Scott knew better than to expect anyone to do that. He didn’t want anyone to do that. His issues were his, not for anyone else to try to muddle through. He did okay as a single guy, and as long as he thought of himself as a contented bachelor he’d continue to do okay.

Danny was trying to be friendly, in his way, and Scott was willing to take it at face value. He even got Scott a consultation with a high-priced attorney, which was a hell of a lot more than he had any obligation to do. “This guy isn’t going to be able to get you out of doing the show,” Danny told him over dinner. “But he might be able to look into your case from whatever happened before and get you some closure. I don’t know. It’s worth a shot.”

Scott didn’t have the heart to tell him no lawyer would touch the case, not when they knew everything. He agreed to at least go and meet Ty Cunningham, at least for an initial consultation. It would take a while to get in to see him, because the guy was super busy and important, but Scott had waited this long. He could wait a little longer to hear that Cunningham wouldn’t touch it either.

In the meantime, he went about his usual business. All of the self-help books he’d read for years told him that was the important thing, and it would keep him from dwelling on the past. He went to work, and he did his own workouts. He kept his room clean. He got together with Grant here and there, which felt kind of awkward with the cameras around but he did it.

Confessional time was weird. He had to sit in the spare room under a spotlight, which felt a little too much like getting interrogated back when he’d finally admitted what his dad had been doing to him. Amos Yates asked him questions in that awful, smarmy voice of his, and he just sat back and hoped they wouldn’t be edited weirdly or taken out of context.

Amos was frank about the way things were going on the show. “Honestly, Scott, I can’t help but think we’re not getting enough footage of the two of you together to make for very good television. And I think that’s mostly your fault.”

Of course it was Scott’s fault. Rationally speaking, it was Scott’s fault because he worked two jobs just to make a reasonable living. Emotionally speaking, it was Scott’s fault because he tried to avoid spending time at home. “I’m sure it is. But you knew I worked two jobs when you chose me.”

“You don’t need to work two jobs anymore, Scott. You’re a married man and you know, when the year ends, you’ll have a nice pile of money either way. You could leave one or both jobs if you wanted to. But you don’t want to, do you?”

“I don’t trust it.” Scott didn’t see a reason to lie or string Yates along. “I don’t trust it, or you, really. There’s still plenty that could go wrong in the next ten months, you know? You don’t leave a job because you’re supposed to wind up with money ten months from now. Only an idiot would do that.”

Yates blinked at him. Had he honestly thought Scott was that stupid? “Okay. But you can’t enjoy spending all your waking hours working. And you must want to spend more of your time getting to know the man you’re married to.”

“He seems like a nice man.” Scott bowed his head. “In a lot of ways, I mean. I’m not sure we have all the same values, but that’s okay. We’re from very different backgrounds and it doesn’t make for very good television if we’re exactly the same, does it?”

Yates smirked. “Touché. Maybe we could work something out whereby you get a leave of absence from the gym. They’d guarantee you a job when the show was over, if you still want it, and you’d be more available on the show.”

Scott’s stomach turned. “They’d never go for that. They’ve got people lined up for days looking to take on one of these jobs.”

“You just leave that to us, Scott. We’ve got lawyers and such, they get paid for that kind of thing. In the meantime, we had a talk with some people out on Long Island recently.”

Bile, hot and bitter, rose in Scott’s throat. “Long Island is a big place.”

“There was a family reunion last month. Did your invitation get lost in the mail, I wonder?”

Scott curled his lip. “We both know - and now the whole country knows - I’m never going to be welcome at something like that.” He gestured at the cameras. “And that’s okay. For anyone watching who’s also a survivor, trust me. We’re all better off not subjecting ourselves to people who knew and did nothing, okay?”

Yates gave a respectful pause. “You wouldn’t want to parade your powerful, wealthy husband on your arm to show them how much you’ve risen above them?” he asked after that moment.

“Not even a little bit.” Scott fixed Yates with a steely glare. “First of all, I don’t want to admit that I know people like that, never mind that I’m related to them. Second, Danny’s not a bad guy. Why would I want to expose him to dirtbags like my family?”

“I suppose you have a point.” Yates looked away and changed the subject to their dinner date from the previous Sunday, and Scott managed to calm himself down.

By Friday, lawyers for Make It Work had performed whatever magic they were going to. The head of human resources for the chain of gyms where Scott worked called him into her Midtown office. “Scott, I got a call from some people on a television show. Apparently you’re on Make It Work this season?”

“Yes ma’am.” Scott could never remember the woman’s name, even though he got an overly cheerful email from her at least once per week. “I auditioned more as moral support for a friend, and it backfired.”

“Well, it’s a great opportunity for you. And their attorneys have asked that we give you an unpaid leave of absence to work on the show. Ordinarily we wouldn’t be able to accommodate such a request, but under the circumstances this really does benefit the gym. At the end of the year we’ll be able to say we’ve got a celebrity trainer working for us, won’t that be great! Don’t you worry about a thing, Scott. Your job will be ready and waiting for you a year from today.” She beamed at him and handed him some paperwork.

And that was it. Scott was now down to working one job, and it was the one he liked best. On the other hand, he had a lot more time on his hands than he was used to or wanted. He supposed he could learn to cook or something.

He hid out in his room until Sunday, when they had their dinner date. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving it. He didn’t want to spend more money than he had to. Sure, he was saving on rent and utilities and crap, but his income was halved now and he didn’t have health insurance without the gym. Damn Yates, anyway.

Make It Work had taken a look at his wardrobe when he’d moved in and quietly taken measurements. Clothes had just showed up in his closet afterward. He only wore them on date nights. The rest of the time he wore workout clothes, because that was his whole job. He hated the tailored suits and tight shirts. He hated the flashy things that drew people’s eyes to him, but they were what he had for the fancy places they went on their dates.

Was it a bad thing, though? Was it a bad thing if people looked at him and liked what they saw? He wasn’t comfortable with it, and he hated it, but he had to admit he looked good in the things they gave him. He didn’t want to attract anyone, but it might be okay if it just happened.

He chose an all-black ensemble and looked at himself in the mirror. It didn’t look like him. Being him had gotten him to a kind of equilibrium over the past nine years or so. It had gotten him through, but he couldn’t say he was happy. Not yet. Maybe looking the part would help him get there?

He tried to remember which self-help book he’d found that idea in, and discarded it. He didn’t have time to worry about that stuff. He just needed to get through the next ten months.

He emerged and headed down to the waiting limo with Danny. They’d gotten more comfortable with each other, to the point where the march down to the stupid limo wasn’t tense. They could even sit beside one another, instead of across the limo from each other like adversaries. It probably made filming easier.

Tonight at least they were eating somewhere that made driving a reasonable decision instead of around the corner. They made small talk about their jobs on the way over, and took their seats once they arrived. Scott got somewhat comfortable once he had his drink and a meal in front of him. Sure he was out on a date that was being filmed for mass consumption, but Danny wasn’t the actual devil and the food was decent.

Just as they finished their first course, a production assistant in a tuxedo walked up to the table. He was probably about Scott’s age, barely out of college, and he looked nervous as hell about being in front of the camera. “Hi. Um, Mr. Yates asked me to play this for you, Scott.” He pulled out his phone.

Scott and Danny exchanged glances. “What is it?” Scott asked, while Danny tensed up.

“He recorded it at some meeting he went to last month. He didn’t give me a lot of information. He said you’d know what it was.” The guy pulled up whatever the memo was and hit play.

Scott cocked his head to hear better. When he heard his mother’s voice come through the speaker, he wished he’d run from the table instead.

“Scott? I haven’t seen him in years. He’s going to be on TV, is he? Well I’m sure he’s far too selfish to think about us in whatever payout comes his way.” Her voice hadn’t changed at all.

His father’s voice came through the speaker next. “You were always too easy on him. It’s your fault he turned out the way he did.”

Scott clutched at his own throat. He couldn’t get enough air. Someone was choking him, wrapping that belt tight and cutting his airway off. The light was going dim, and there were hands on him. He struck out blindly, flailing, and glass crashed to the floor somewhere.

“Scott!” Huge dark brown eyes bored into Scott’s. It was enough to shake Scott out of the memory, and cool air poured into his lungs. He wasn’t in the restaurant anymore. He was outside, in front, and Danny’s lip was split. “Come on, man. What are five things you can see, with your eyes?”

Scott swallowed. “Did I have a panic attack?”

“I think so. I guess, I’ve never seen one in person. Five things, man.”

“Um. You. I see your eyes, the stubble on your chin, the cut on your lip - did I do that?”

Danny blushed. “Focus.”

Scott took a deep breath. “I see a taxi. And the man bun on that guy over there, the cameraman recording all of this.” He turned his head away. “I’m so sorry, Danny.”

“It’s not your fault, Scott.” Danny spoke softly, and he stroked Scott’s cheek. Scott leaned into the touch. “Next time I see that son of a bitch Yates, though, I’m going to do a whole lot more than break his nose.”

“You broke the PA’s nose?” Scott chuckled weakly.

“Dude, he gave you a panic attack. He deliberately induced a panic attack. I didn’t realize he didn’t know what was on the recording until after I broke his nose.” Danny ducked his head and blushed. “Look, we’re going to take care of this. Being on the show is one thing. And I get that they have a job to do. But deliberately provoking something like this? That’s beyond the pale.”

Scott used his long hair to hide his face. “No one’s ever broken a guy’s nose for me before,” he said with a chuckle.

Danny snorted. “Yeah well don’t let them tell you chivalry’s dead.” He stood up. “Come on. Let’s head home. We can have a couple of beers and put our feet up, maybe take our minds off of this.”

Scott took the hand Danny offered. Underneath all the shame, something stirred inside of him that he couldn’t identify.

* * *

Danny had to wait until Wednesday to talk to Yates about his attack on Scott. Ordinarily, that would have meant he had three days to calm down. Danny didn’t typically hold a grudge. He didn’t have time for grudges. Grudges weren’t profitable, and they weren’t productive. Danny had time for productivity and profits, in that order.

It was different with Scott. And maybe it shouldn’t have been. It wasn’t like he was in love with Scott. It wasn’t like he and Scott were particularly close. But once he’d seen the way Yates had tried to manipulate Scott, using his past to traumatize him on camera for crying out loud, everything went out the window. He had a job to do, and it didn’t involve letting some washed up TV star hurt his husband.

Unfortunately for Danny, Yates was smarter than he looked. When he showed up at his Confessional session on Wednesday, he found Yates had brought not one but two security guards with him. Danny curled his lip. “Oh, you’ll sit there and provoke a panic attack in a guy on purpose but you won’t face me without backup?”

“You did break my PA’s nose.” Yates smirked at him. “Don’t get me wrong. It made for fantastic television. Worker’s Comp will cover it, but I’m not foolish enough to risk getting worse than a busted face.” He gave Danny a knowing look. “Do you know what your husband does for a living, Danny?”

“He’s a trainer at the gym.”

“That was a side job to give him health insurance. The show just negotiated a leave of absence for him. No, his real job is teaching martial arts. He’s got black belts in more than one discipline. And now that he’s mentally prepared for whatever demons he has locked up in his head, I’m not going to count on his being too traumatized to attack me either. He’s not some fragile piece of broken glass.”

Danny recoiled. “I have met some mercenary people, and I’ve met some repulsive people, but holy crap. That takes the cake.” He let the line about glass slide.

Yates shrugged. “I have a job to do. My job is to bring people good television. And that, my friend, was good television. I’m sure Scott would disagree, but that’s not my problem, is it? And honestly, don’t you think it’s time for him to get over his childhood issues?”

“I think it’s not for me to say when or how someone should get over, or more to the point through, their childhood issues. I’m not the one who lived through them. And neither are you. You had no right to go there, Yates. I get that you have a job to do but there is a line, and you crossed it.”

“And you feel compelled to defend him. Isn’t that sweet?” Yates lifted his chin defiantly. “And if you hadn’t had that incident with the panic attack, would you have felt compelled to leap to his defense?”

Danny opened his mouth. He shut it again. Would he have leaped to defend Scott if he hadn’t seen that Scott needed so much defending? No, of course not. “That’s a stupid question and you know it,” he said after a long moment. “No, of course I wouldn’t have broken that guy’s nose if he hadn’t attacked my husband. And that’s what it was. The PA didn’t know it at the time, but it was still an attack. You attacked him. You knew it would cause a physical reaction - he stopped breathing, for Christ’s sake. Don’t go pretending you’re some kind of hero or that you were acting in our best interests when at the end of the day, you did something that caused harm to my husband.”

“Tell me something, Danny. How have things been since the incident?” Yates leaned forward. “Has Scott let you touch him?”

“Things haven’t changed appreciably.”

“You’re wrong.” Yates gestured, and a PA - not the one with the broken nose, but a different one - turned a monitor on. Danny stared at his own image. He watched as he stroked Scott’s smooth cheek, and Scott leaned into the touch. “He’s never let you do that before. And here.”

The scene cut away to Scott bowing his head, so a thick curtain of hair hung in front of his face. “No one’s ever broken someone’s nose for me before.”

Yates sat back in his chair. “Scott was willing to let you make physical contact with him, which he hadn’t been willing to do in the two months since your marriage. Why do you think that is?”

Danny bit down on the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t deny that Yates was right. He hadn’t been thinking about it at the time. All he’d been thinking about was helping Scott. What he did know, though, was that Yates’ reasoning was off. “The only reason he let me then was because he was so shaken from your attack. It’s got nothing to do with cracking open our marriage or making it more real. And even if it did, it would still be wrong.”

“So you don’t think the ends justify the means?”

“No. As a matter of fact, I don’t, and I’m kind of disgusted that you do.”

“Disgusted? There’s a strong word. Maybe that’s why you haven’t capitalized on it. You’ve let Scott molder in that room of his instead of drawing him out. Maybe you should try it.”

Danny snorted. “I’m not going to take advantage of a vulnerable guy. That’s gross. It’s gross and I won’t do it.”

Yates steepled his fingers together. “I think you will. I think you’ll approach him tonight, because I’ve put thoughts in your head and you want to make sure he’s okay. And because you’re going to want to keep him updated on the situation with me. It’s good television, and more to the point you’ll do it because you’re compelled.”

Danny didn’t approach Scott that night, specifically because Yates had suggested it. He refused to be that predictable. He did, however, approach him the next day.

He decided to work from home, because he knew Scott was home during the day. He hadn’t worked from home since he and Scott were married. It wasn’t something he made a habit of, as a general rule, but Yates had been right. He did want to know. For all he knew, Scott was making full use of the apartment while he was gone, even though he saw no evidence of this when he returned home at night.

He didn’t notice Scott leaving in the morning, but he was still drinking his morning coffee when Scott got back from his morning run so he guessed Scott left before he got up. He knew Scott had an incredible body, thanks to the tight shirt the producers put him in for the selection show. He hadn’t been prepared to see him after a workout, though. Scott in street clothes was one thing. Scott in workout clothes - running shorts and a tank top, dripping in sweat - was something else.

Danny immediately hid behind the kitchen island. The last thing he wanted was for Scott to see his erection. God, the body on that man. He could have been sculpted by a master. “Running? Was someone chasing you?”

“One of the neighbors’ yappy dogs did hop out of her little purse or whatever, but she just wanted a cuddle.” Scott ducked his head and blushed. “I didn’t think people actually named their dogs Fifi but apparently they do.”

“It’s a little retro, but here we are.” Danny shrugged. “So. I want to apologize. For Sunday.”

Scott paled. “Can we maybe not talk about that? I’m super embarrassed by the whole thing.”

Danny tugged at his collar. He could see why a guy like Scott would be embarrassed by having a panic attack on TV, but he needed to talk to him about it anyway. He needed Scott to know what had been behind it. “Here’s the thing. I get why you’re embarrassed, and I don’t want to subject you to any unnecessary trauma. That said, I had a conversation with Yates and I need to let you know what we discussed. Under the circumstances, I think it’s important that you understand everything that went into that stunt, because it was just that cruel to you.” He took a deep breath and reached out to take Scott’s hand. “I’m pretty pissed about it, actually.”

Scott closed his eyes for a moment. “Can I get dressed first?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay. Give me a couple of minutes.”

Scott went to shower and change. He didn’t take long, but he still took enough time for Danny to fret about the conversation.

When Scott re-emerged, he wore jeans and a tee shirt. It was a lot less distracting. “Okay,” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “What is it that you wanted to tell me?”

Danny took a deep breath. “Yates engineered the whole thing. Because he thought it was ‘good television.’”

Scott made a face. “I figured as much. I mean who doesn’t like to watch a trauma survivor breaking down on camera, right? Heaven forbid we try to move on with our lives. No, we have to spend every minute of every day atoning for something that was done to us.”

Danny snorted. “Yeah, well. There probably is a certain amount of that. But what he seems to like is the fact that…” He trailed off. How was he supposed to phrase this? Every camera in the place bored into his skin, burning him. “Yeah. Um. He liked the way I broke his PA’s nose.”

“That’s oddly sadistic.” Scott blinked.

“He had a lot to say about how the dynamic between us changed after the whole thing.” Danny had to rush to push the words out. He didn’t care if they were intelligible on camera. The only person who needed to understand right now was Scott. “Um, the way you let me touch you now, versus the way you didn’t before. I think that’s what he was going for.”

“He wanted me to be more vulnerable so you could swoop in and play savior.” Scott covered his mouth, like he was going to be sick. “Wow. That’s some gross, manipulative crap.”

“I wasn’t in on it. I promise.”

Scott shook his head and took a sip of the coffee. “I believe you.” He chuckled. There was a bitter note underneath that laugh, an oboe underneath the clarinet, but at least he was holding it sufficiently together. “For what it’s worth, I mean I don’t know you well but you’re not the kind of guy to sit there and manipulate someone that way. You’re pretty direct. When you want something, you say it.”

“I’ve never been so happy to be so obvious before.” Danny ran a hand over the stubble on the top of his head. “The question is what do we do about it? We have a contractual obligation to put up with this crap for another ten months, but I’m honestly furious about it.”

“I’m mad, too. But honestly, I’m not just mad. I’m… I guess I’m not even surprised. I’m on a show that throws two people together and expects them to just make a marriage work. They think they can treat sexual assault like a cute little character flaw and use it as a tool to manipulate people.” He rubbed at his temple. “It’s like… you know, what happened was bad enough. And then there’s the way people responded at the time. And over the years. And now, for all that plenty of people will stand up and say ‘Oh, that’s bad, people shouldn’t do that and we should support survivors,’ it’s always going to be right there as something to throw in your face. Something people want to use to force you to do what they want, which was the problem in the first place.”

Danny bowed his head. “I’m so sorry. I wish things could have turned out different.”

“If I had things to do over again, I’d still go to the auditions with Grant. I just wouldn’t actually audition. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t give them this kind of power over me. But if wishes were fishes, or something like that.”

“You mean horses?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “The thing is, you’re a good guy, Danny. I’m glad I met you, and I wouldn’t have met you any other way. Maybe you’d have been fixed up with Grant or something, and we could just be friendly and I could sit back and be happy my friend got to marry such a nice man.”

Danny chuckled. “Yeah, maybe.” Somehow he couldn’t picture himself showing his better side around Grant the Stoner. “Look, are you going to be okay? I know this is a lot to take in, on top of everything else.”

“I’ll survive. I’m glad you told me. It’s an ugly truth, but I’d rather know than not know.” Scott chugged down the rest of his coffee and re-filled his cup. “Thanks, Danny. I appreciate it.” He headed back into his room, but left the door open.

Danny got through his work quickly. He didn’t know what he’d expected from the conversation. Maybe more rage? But then again, if Danny had been hyper-conscious of the cameras, how much worse must it have been for Scott?

He headed to the Hellion Club when he finished his work. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to accomplish, but he needed to get away from the cameras for a while and this was the best way to do it. He got himself a drink and headed into the library.

He had to admit he liked Scott. He liked Scott more than he wanted to. He’d resented his husband when he first realized Scott wasn’t the embodiment of a rich and adoring househusband, but once he’d let go of his need for that he liked Scott for his own sake. Under other circumstances, he could see himself loving Scott.

The thought gave him pause. How much of that potential for love came from Scott himself, and how much came from a plain and simple protective instinct? Danny was an alpha. He’d channeled most of his alpha instincts into his business, chasing profits like a wolf chases rabbits. He couldn’t say he knew Scott all that well, though. Scott had a deeply traumatic history, a stoner best friend, and… long hair? Great abs?

Sure, Danny wanted to protect him. It was only natural. He still didn’t know him. The problem would be getting to know him. Would he still want to protect Scott later if he knew him better? And how much better could he really get to know Scott with all the stupid cameras?

Sol Delaney passed the table where he sat musing and stopped to check in. Danny took the opportunity to mention what Yates had done with the recording, and Sol’s face went scarlet. “I’ll speak to him about that. That’s so far beyond anything Valor Entertainment would ever endorse. I can promise you he won’t go unpunished.”

“Thanks.” Danny sighed. “I’m not sure what to do here. I don’t want to push and I don’t want to insert myself into a situation that has nothing to do with me, but I seriously want to find some way of helping him.”

Sol winced. “Well, I’m not sure how to do that without being a busybody. But definitely have him talk to Alex. Alex would know better than I would, you know?”

Danny nodded. “Maybe we can all get together for dinner sometime soon.”