Who: Candy and Remy. What: AVN Shenanigans. When: Saturday night. Where: Vegas! Rating: R for mentions of shagging but no actual shagging. Trigger Warnings: Mentions of substance abuse recovery. Status: Complete!
Remy was in a tuxedo, feeling a little bit like a pot roast - tied and moved everywhere - but he knew Candy looked better than a lot of the two-cent cocksuckers here. They were just about to step onto the red carpet and he could tell there was a whole lot of plastic surgery there. He preferred natural. Still, this had been too hilarious to miss.
He turned to Candy in her dress. “You still look amazing,” he said, even though he’d seen it on her for the last fifteen minutes. “Can’t get over it.”
“I had help,” She smiled, blushing a little. “I wanted to look sexy but not too slutty, you know? I’m not talent.” She’d had to put a little makeup on the scars on her back and arms, but nobody would be able to tell.
“No, you ain’t.” Remy tried, he really tried not to sound protective. He’d sort of caught himself getting jealous lately, and he didn’t want to do that to her. He just didn’t know how to be in love, really. It felt like walking on hot coals; he kept waiting to fuck up and burn himself.
Grinning, Candy tugged him down by the shirt for a kiss. “You’re adorable when you’re jealous.” The limo had stopped at the red carpet, and Candy couldn’t help laughing. “I love how they’re trying to be fancy. This is just funny.”
Mm. Remy had been able to see the beginnings of the red carpet as they’d waited in the line. As they got up to the jumping-off point, it was even funnier. He laughed right along with her. “You gotta be kidding me, that girl with them tits.” They were possibly bigger than her head. “ ... Hell. I can’t judge people out loud all night, though; it’d fuck up my prospects.” He did have a career. Sort of. An award-nominated sort of career.
Candy laughed. “You might have to do her sound sometime soon, be good.” She took his arm, kissed his cheek, and started to walk down the carpet with him. “And hey, free ginger ale, that’s not bad, right?”
“Not bad at all. Though if this is long as most award shows, might have to go fuck in the toilets when it’s over.” Remy smiled faintly, hearing cameras and blinking. Were there seriously that many photographers here?
“If there’s room. I’m sure that other people will have that idea. Porn and all,” Candy smiled. She blinked when photographers told her to look one way or another, but she managed to recover fairly quickly.
It didn’t bother him that there were photographers; it made him laugh. And Candy being in image pools was just amusing. Remy smiled, letting her go a little so she could pose and turn. “They think you famous?” he murmured, nosing into her neck to make her laugh.
“Probably. It’s because you’re handsome.” Candy turned to kiss him on the cheek, laughing when more flashbulbs went off. “See?”
“Please, you the better-looking one.” Remy grinned. This wasn’t as weird as he’d thought it was going to be, especially if he stuck with Candy. Still, he saw guys giving her the eye. “I seriously think some of these people think you talent. They checkin’ you out.”
“They’re just wondering how a girl with no tits is at this thing.” She winked at him, taking his hand and walking a little further down with him. “I wonder what Zev and Roy are up to.”
“Oh, can’t you guess?” He smiled innocently, kissing her cheek, roving eyes be damned. “I’m sure they got here nice and early and mugged for every camera.” His tone was indulgent, though; Remy basically owed his career to Zevran, and the boy seemed nice enough. “They gotta get married soon.”
“They’re cute, and you love Zev like a silly little broth - “ Candy blinked when someone tried to interview her about what she was nominated for. “Actually, it’s my boyfriend here who’s the nominee,” Candy beamed. “He puts so much effort and love into his work. I’m so proud of him.” Let TMZ think he was an actor.
The reporter was a woman, and turned to him with eyes like a hawk for a field mouse. Remy had to not laugh like a lunatic, and it was hard work. “I just do the best I can,” he told her, offering his sweetest smile - which, in retrospect, probably didn’t help matters.
“Oh, that’s not true. I love watching him. He’s so passionate. I could watch his fingers work all day.” Candy smiled, beaming up at her boyfriend.
Damn that woman. Except not. Remy bit his lip, smiling even more sweetly. “Candy’s good to me. And she’s obviously my biggest supporter!” He gave her a look that probably any idiot could interpret as ‘I’m gonna spank you’, but not for those reasons.
Grinning broadly, Candy moved along the red carpet, ignoring the woman’s request for more chatter. “Admit it, Cajun. You love me.”
“I will tell the entire damn world that I love you.” Remy grinned, stopping for one more photographer, a guy who actually asked nicely. “Should we go in or something? Any idea?” He’d never been to one of these, either; he had no clue.
“I have no idea - “ She was cut off yet again by an usher who handed them both gift bags and told them to follow. “We have gift - who sponsored this? Oh. Astroglide.” Candy couldn’t help but laugh. Hysterical, loud giggles that were a bit infectious.
Definitely infectious. Remy had to bite his lip damn near bloody to not crack up just as hard. “Shush, girl, you gonna make a fuss,” he hissed through pressed lips. Oh, it was just too fuckin’ ridiculous. He kissed her as they followed, hoping to calm them both down.
She kissed him happily, walking with him toward their seats. “You’re silly,” she beamed.
“‘S why you love me.” Remy slipped a hand around her waist, resting a little on her ass. “How long we think this gonna be? Any wagers?”
She eeped faintly, nuzzling into his touch. “Two, three hours? But apparently there’s a band. So maybe we can sneak out during them and go back to the hotel room or something.”
“Sounds good to me.” Nobody was going to miss him, he wasn’t talent. Remy smiled, gently pulling her closer.
They were about right; the show went on for about two and a half hours. It wasn’t that bad, though; there were a few hilarious moments, both intentional and unintentional. One person slipped, and the Astroglide jokes were all over the room. Remy actually enjoyed himself, despite the weirdness.
It was actually a bunch of like minded people, all goofy, but all clearly okay with the industry. She could’ve thought of far worse ways to spend an evening. She’d even found out the starlet she’d been sat next to was in recovery as well, and they chatted about how finding microbrews applied to root beer as well as the boozey kind.
Remy had mostly amused himself by people watching, but he’d been glad that Candy hadn’t been bored. It did him good. She’d been laughing and smiling.
After the show itself, they’d gotten a few invites to afterparties. Remy had waited until Candy had waved and bid her new friend adieu before asking her. “Feel like going out? Or want to go back to the hotel?” Either was okay with him. These were laid back people, he had to admit.
“Hotel, please.” Candy just leaned against Remy as she held his hand, walking slowly. “I kind of want to soak my feet. I don’t know how anyone walks in heels for this long, oh my god.”
“Ma pauvre.” Remy kissed her cheek. “That’s fine by me. We did our duty.” She was so light; he stopped and picked her up, heels, dress and all. “Probably gonna have to wait for the car.” So why not carry her. A few people were laughing, but hopefully it was fond and not mocking.
Candy smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “My hero.” She snogged him firmly, glad he didn’t mind her displaying her affection in public.
Not in the least. He stayed there, holding her in a fireman’s carry, until their car arrived. Then he deposited her gently in the car before going around to the other side. “There we go. Bellechere all set?” Remy grinned. ”Je pense que oui,” she laughed. Her accent wasn’t great, but she tried. Once they were in the limo, she settled into a seat, putting her feet into his lap.
“Gettin’ there.” Remy smiled. It actually meant a lot that she tried, as silly as it might sound. He’d dreamed idly of teaching her French one word at a time, lying in bed with her until she got it right, and then rewarding her. Slowly.
Remy jerked his head out of the clouds, instead looking over at her. “You tired, or just your feet? I’m glad we came to this.” It had actually been fun.
“Just my feet. I think I could stay up for another couple of hours.” She ran one blue toenail over the inside of his thigh, laughing and sprawling out. “This was my first time in a limo. They just seem like moving hotel rooms, really.”
“It’s only my third. Really, you ain’t wrong.” Remy smiled lazily. “One thing that’s overrated, though, is quickies in here.” He winced faintly. “Vegas got speed humps everywhere.” And that was just awful.
“Ugh.” She smiled, shaking her head. “Guess that’s what the elevator at the hotel is for, huh.”
“You might just be right.” Remy took her hand, lazily rubbing circles with his thumb. “You have a good time, though? I actually enjoyed it.” And he’d make sure they both enjoyed the evening.
Purring loudly, Candy nodded. “I did. It was funny, honestly. Lots of those people were really cool.”
“‘S true. Got some twitter handles and email addresses. And a few audition offers, but I just pointed at you and said you’d divorce me.” Fudging a little bit, but it would be reality before long, if he had his way. And it sounded more dire if you said wife and not girlfriend.
Candy laughed. “Really. Well, I doubt I’d divorce you, you’re a looker.” She laughed. “Besides, what would the ladies at my bridge club say? Such scandal.”
Remy grinned right back, still holding her hand. “I would find a better place to propose than the limo after the damn porn awards,” he said softly, “but you know I gonna ask to marry you sometime, yeah?”
That gave her pause, made her blink a little. “I - what?”
“What you mean, what?” Remy raised an eyebrow. “We talk about this a while back, didn’t we?” Had she been teasing? He swallowed, suddenly nervous.
“I thought you were kidding! I thought I dreamed that.” She blushed, hiding her face. “I mean, you know what I’ll say, right?”
“I think so? I mean. I just want to do it right, though. You deserve it.” Remy looked down, smiling. This was turning into a weirdly awkward moment, but still. He kissed her hand. “You know I love you. Next step’s just putting a ring on it.”
“Don’t you sing at me, Remy Etienne LeBeau.” Candy raised an eyebrow. Of course she knew his middle name. Why would anyone doubt that?
“I ain’t singin’! God forbid.” Remy didn’t like singing. Remy didn’t think he was good at singing. “I’m really hoping all that merde is done by the time we back in the OC.” He chuckled. “I can do a lotta things for you, bellechere, but maybe we wanna give that one a miss.”
“You sang okay last time,” she murmured, moving to sit in his lap. “It was sweet. Just ... no Beyonce.” She closed her eyes and leaned against him. “You really want to marry me. I - thank you. So much.”
“Of course I do. I love you.” Remy closed his eyes and breathed her in. He felt the limo slow to a stop. “Let’s get upstairs and I’ll rub your feet, and ...?” He trailed off, kind of wanting sex but feeling like he might get smacked if he asked for it.
“And then you can tie me up and we can try to get kicked out.” She left her heels off, carrying them with her as she exited the limo.
“I love you,” Remy said fervently, holding the hotel door open for her.