Rebelcaptain Celebrity Pretend Relationship AU: On set and on location
Jyn’s had crushes on co-stars before. Fleeting little things that lasted weeks and then burnt out like a Fourth of July sparkler. But until Cassian, she had never had a dream so filthy that she woke up confused, angry, and in need of a cold shower.
She glares at him for a full two days, if only to combat the images in her mind that linger at the forefront of her memories like some sort of punishment her brain is meteing out. She can’t remember to buy milk and bread at the grocery store half the time, but somehow she has detailed recollections of something that never actually happened–his mouth against her neck; the rough of his hand pushing her against a wall as she gives in to it; the dark brown color of his eyes looking up at her from between her legs–it makes her want to kill something. Him, probably. But it’s not his fault, she understands. It’s her subconscious. (But she can still be angry at him.) None of this is helped by the fact that she knows how it feels like to kiss him now; that she’s seen him naked before (though only on film in one of her favorite movies, which, she’s never going to tell him about; she’s not quite thinking yet about the love scene that’s still to be shot).
It would be best if she could avoid them, but almost all of their scenes are together, and they still have to teach one another and breathe the same air. And they’re on location with little company save for the crew, a small handful of hotel staff, and the occasional white-tailed deer.
It would be so much easier if they were in California still, Jyn thinks. She could go out with friends; go complain to Bodhi some more. Drive along the PCH and with the windows down and just take in the salt air. But they are not. They are in a secluded cabin in northwoods of Wisconsin, the “talent” in one of the cottages at a small B&B and the production staff at a motel down the road. The talent just happens to consists of her and Cassian, and their only other company is the proprietor and her husband and their two sheepdogs.
At least their scenes are action sequences this week and not anything more intimate, she thinks. Except she rereads the script and sees him on set in just a tank top and remembers that one of their scenes involves a lot of grappling. Hands on muscles, pushing against chests, close-ups of their faces panting at each other in exertion.
I’m in hell, Jyn thinks. I’m in hell, and it’s a place called Wisconsin with Cassian Andor.
Cassian watches Jyn lope onto the set, a scowl on her face, one that’s lived there for days, and he misses California Jyn, the Jyn that had to pretend that she was in love with him, because for all its fakery, at least she smiled, and at least she didn’t look ready to kill him all the time.
“Your expression is good,” Draven tells Jyn when she skitters by. “But save some for the film, right, girl?”
Jyn only scowls deeper, then shoots Cassian another angry look.
He sighs and checks his phone, scrolling through the new texts from Amelia, who keeps dropping less than subtle hints about wanting to get back together even after he let her down as gently as possible the last four or five times. Closing out his messages, he finally notes the date: May 29. He stiffens. The anniversary of his mother’s death. He feels the coldness gather inside his chest. How had he forgotten?
But there’s no time to remember, and Draven calls them both to set, and he has to stop being Cassian and start being “Javier”; when Jyn has to stop being herself and start being “Laura.”
He and Jyn tear through the woods toward the lake as Draven chases them with the hand-held camera. Jyn’s barely keeping up, and Cassian pulls her arm to bring her closer, shouting, “Let’s go! Let’s go!” They finally stop, squeezed tight along the base of the rock bluffs, hiding from the unnamed purser in Draven’s still continuing shot.
Cassian feels Jyn’s hand curl into his chest as she says her next line, her fingers tangling in his chest hair curling outside the neckline of his shirt. “Are you okay?” she says, looking up at him, waiting for him to deliver his line. Then something flashes in her eyes, something off script. He sees her bite her bottom lip.
But his next lines freeze in his throat. He focuses in on her instead. Her hand is warm and soft, and he’s startled by his own reaction to the touch, breaking character for a moment. Are you okay? she had said. He looks at her, at her big eyes dark green in the dusk, and something inside him begins to thaw.
Draven yells cut, and they both jerk their heads up as though they had forgotten that they were alone. “Good complicated emotions you two,” their director tells them. “Let’s start again though from ‘Are you okay.’ I need a tighter shot.” Draven walks toward them and cuts between them, repositioning Jyn and checking the lighting near Cassian’s face.
Jyn shoots Cassian a look while she waits, a curious look on her face, “Are you okay?” she mouths, and it’s Jyn, not Laura saying this to him. When was the last time anyone had asked him that, he wonders, even if it was for the camera?
He gives her a slight nod and mouths back, “I’m okay,” and she smiles, the scowling and anger from the last two days finally washed away. And he can’t help it. He smiles back.