MiniSeries About Timothee Chalamet

Mistletoe Enemy

Info - enemies, cocky Timmy, argument, insults, spoilers for bones and all, mention of hand job, suggestive joke

"I swear this would happen to me," I said under my breath. The eccentric director had decided against a chemistry read, and had kept the whole cast a secret. He wanted our first meeting to be all together at a Christmas party and then we'd meet back together in the new year to film.

I couldn't believe my eyes when my rival Timothée Chalamet had been introduced as my love interest. Our rivalry was pretty public. We'd been on one small show together, both of us not very famous then, and only on for one episode. He was cocky and goofy and so unprofessional. After that, I told him I'd go farther than he ever would in the ranks of acting. He'd grinned and said "you're on".

Since then we talked down about each other in interviews. We tried out for similar roles and gloated to the other when we got it. He'd even gone so far to mention me in an award thank you speech and make fun of me that I hadn't won what I'd been nominated for. I hated him and now I'd have to pretend to love him?

"We meet again my foe," he smiled devilishly.

"Shut up Chalamet," I said, heading for the drink table.

"What should it be this time? Who makes the higher salary?"

"No!" I whirled on him. "Men notoriously make more than women."

"Okay, who wins an award?" He asked.

"That could work," I snarled. "Because I'll be sure to blow it out of the water."

"I saw your latest thing, it was awful, like they had to drag the lines out of you," he chuckled and folded his arms.

"Well you were an asshole in bones and all, I was happy you got eaten," I growled. This wasn't true, the movie had touched me deeply, and despite myself I'd cried when his character died.

"How was I an asshole?" He demanded.

"Ummm you ATE people," I said as though it were obvious. "Who gives a guy a handjob and then slices his throat?"

"Bet that's how you'd like to off me," he said with a roguish grin. I was taken aback, he didn't usually flirt. I was silent a second.

"Look what's above you," squealed a bubbly cast mate. We looked up and to my horror it was mistletoe.

"Kiss!"

"I don't really-" I was cut off when Timothée's lips hit mine. The kiss was surprisingly kind and soft. I deepened it before thinking too hard about it. I was holding his face. He groaned gently into my mouth, and pulled back.

"We'll have to do it eventually anyway," he shrugged.