Title: Foundation
Author: simarillion
Fandom: RPS
Pairing: Shia Labeouf/Robert Downey Jr.
Rating: R (but for now G)
Beta: draft version (unbetaed)
Word Count: 2,100 (2,880 total)
Warning: Language, M/M
Summary: Relationships are sometimes hard work.
Disclaimer: Some of the persons mentioned are real, but there’s nothing real about the story. The events and the interactions are wholly invented, and I do not claim to know anything about the real persons, or their private lives.
The title is not mine, it was taken from a song by Kate Nash. No money is made with the writing of this piece of fiction.
Author’s Note: This story is inspired by Kate Nash’s song Foundation.




Part One

It happens on the fifth day of his return to L.A. Shia is busy trying to keep from thinking about his current situation. He’s cleaning all around his mum’s apartment, he tries to cook – without much success, and he starts to look for a job.

So, when the phone rings sometime around noon, he picks up, expecting to get some feedback about his job applications. Robert’s voice on the other end of the line, takes him totally by surprise, and stuns him into silence.

“Shia?”

There’s nothing he can do but stand there, the speaker of the phone pressed against his ear. Not one word makes it out of his mouth, and so silence is the only thing that answers the asked question.

“Shia, is that you?” The voice sounds exactly like he remembers all too well.

He’s got to swallow to wet his dry throat, and then he’s finally able to say something. “Yeah, yeah, it’s me.”

“Hi! I’m calling to ask you about the rest of my things I had at the apartment.” Shia can’t help but feel like he’s suddenly in an alternative universe. “Did you put them in storage, or did you leave them with Jake? I’d really need the photos and the designs of the stage concept that Rick created.”

There’s simply nothing he can say to that. Not once have they talked to each other after Robert had left their apartment. Of course Shia tried to contact him, but his sudden ex-lover had just screened his calls. Well, after having the other guy not pick up for the umpteenth time, even Shia had gotten the message. No contact desired.

And now, hearing Robert’s voice on the other end of the line, there’re a lot of things he could say, maybe even should say. The only thing he does though is hang up the phone.

Only moments later, the phone starts ringing again. This time Shia doesn’t wait for the other to start speaking. He just picks up the phone and hangs up again. A third call follows right after the second one, and so he does the only thing he can think of, he unplugs the phone.

Once the ringing has stopped, he sits down on the living room couch. The fact that Robert calls him here, at his mum’s place, after treating him so badly, has him absolutely baffled. It’s completely unexplainable to him how he got into this situation.

True, Shia had always been the one who took a step back, and let his partner stay in the limelight, but he can’t understand how and why Robert would think that it’s acceptable from him, to kick him in the guts the way he did, and then trample all over him, the way he just had with the phone call.

His thoughts stay on this track, as he dredges up memories from the past. Memories about the beginning of their relationship, of how they got to know each other, and their time living together. Had he really allowed Robert to walk all over him?

Looking back, there are numerous incidents which have a completely different meaning and tone, now that Shia’s looking at them from another angle. Apparently it’s his own fault that he got cut loose, the way it had happened. For far too long has he tolerated a treatment from his lover which is unacceptable in many ways.

One could say of course that none of the incidents are that bad on their own, but combining them, and considering for how long a time it had been going on, it adds up to gigantic proportions.

Now, that he’s aware of what has been going on all this time, Shia can’t explain to himself the blindness he had had for all the indicators of the problems in their relationship. Maybe, if he had noticed this earlier, he might have had the chance to prevent their break-up, but then again he might just have broken up with Robert earlier. What if, is a dangerous game to play, and right now, Shia doesn’t feel very courageous.

Even though he’s hurting from getting dumped, and uprooted by his move back to California, he can’t help but remember the way they met, three years ago.

It had been three years ago, and Shia had been living in New York on his own for four years already. After graduating High School, the first thing he had done, was to withdraw all his money from the bank, and buy a plane ticket to New York City.

Many of his school mates back then, had talked about going to college or university. Some were picking two year programmes to learn about what they liked, and get prepared for their dream job. Most of the kids, had already worked out their financing for school, either by taking a loan, some by fundraising, and others were recruited with scholarships.

Shia had applied for no school. And he hadn’t applied for funding of any kind. His decision had been to move to the city he’d always dreamed of, get a job there, and get where he wanted to go, by gaining working experience.

True, the way to the top would be much easier with at least some kind of degree or certificate, but there’s no way he can afford to take a loan of this size. He wouldn’t even know where to start with the fundraising, none of his friends and family members have that much money to spare and what kind of company would sponsor a screenwriter of no mentionable experience. Since he doesn’t play any competitive sports either, and his grades were okay, but nothing to brag about, he wasn’t really a candidate for a scholarship.

After much thinking about how to start out, he decided to just go to New York City, and try to make his way the slow and tedious way.

His first job at a fish market had not only paid poorly, it had also had the side effect that soon his whole apartment and all his clothes had smelled of fish. The working hours hadn’t been too bad, and so he had kept on working part time at the market even after he got the gig at the small club. For some time his working times had been from 6 p.m. in the afternoon to 8:30 in the morning.

Once he started to nod off while sorting fish, he decided that maybe he needed to get a different job. After one year at the market, Shia finally made his start in the writing business, and got a job with a small local newspaper. He wrote columns about the night life and the subcultures in the city, and he used his experiences he gathered at the club, to stay informed about the latest trends.

The popularity of his columns grew, and soon he was recruited by a music label, to scout trendy new clubs where young and upcoming musicians were performing, or would be able to perform. Even though his job was taking him once more further away from his ultimate goal of screenwriting, he enjoyed the work.

It was two months later, Shia got to start working as a TV show writer for a small local network, that he met Robert. The other man had been at one of the clubs Shia was checking out for the label. At first the two of them had not gotten along too well. Shia had been annoyed with the other’s attitude, and Robert’s first comment about Shia had been: You have to be the scruffiest and the least sexy looking person in the whole club.

Robert was and still is an actor and a director. He’s mainly working at the theatre, and his job has taken him to London, Paris, Rome, Sidney, and other impressive places all around the world. He was at the club with his best friends, who were also actors and starlets of the theatre world of some kind.

They were rich and snobby, and Shia had had a hard time to keep from giving them some Echo Park attitude. In the end he’d told Robert to shove it, and left the club.

He wasn’t to meet the other man until two months later, when Robert was the guest in an episode of the show Shia was writing for. Their second meeting wasn’t too successful either, and while Robert was complaining about every word of every line he had, Shia called him a prick, and told him to take a hike. Of course, he hadn’t done it in front of everybody else, but he had walked up to Robert during a break and said it to his face.

This had been the start of their relationship. The same evening Robert had followed him to a club Shia had to check out, and the next two weeks, he had shown up at every club Shia visited and waited for him every evening after work.

The other’s persistence wore Shia down, and so they had a first date, which ended with them at Roberts penthouse, and a night of raunchy sex.

The regular sexcapades developed into a relationship and after their first year, they moved in together. First at Robert’s penthouse, but the size of it made Shia feel like he was being kept by Robert, and so they had gotten an apartment that was agreeable to both of them.

Sure, their relationship had its ups and downs, but on the whole they mastered every hurdle and obstacle admirably. Shia even found real friends in Robert’s circle of the unbearably privileged – as he liked to call them – which was the hardest thing for him to do.

Now, after the way Robert left him, Shia wonders if his first impression of his former lover had been the right one, if he shouldn’t have let the other talk him into their first date.

But the truth is that even though he can see only bad things right now, he knows that there were great times as well, and once he will be able to remember them, he won’t want to miss them. Everything has its pros and cons after all. He’ll just have to keep remembering the positive things and he won’t come to regret his past decisions.

For the rest of the day Shia stays inside, the phone unplugged, and he does nothing. Some time after the surprise call from his ex, he’s over the shock, but he still can’t find the energy to move, or be productive. Only the sound of keys turning in the lock of the apartment door, get him to get up and welcome his mother back.

When she asks him about what happened, and why he disconnected the phone – she tried to call him a couple of times in the afternoon – he just shrugs, and heads for the kitchen where he prepare the food they’ll need for cooking dinner. After a last attempt of getting him to open up and talk, his mum sighs had then she starts cooking lasagne and garlic bread, one of Shia’s favourite dishes.

It is when he washes the dishes, that his mother plugs the phone back in, and some time after it has been connected again, it starts ringing. Shia can feel his body tense and he watches his mum picking up. Her face changes from curious to angry, and she turns around to face her son. Her eyes glitter dangerously and he knows who is on the line.

“No, you can’t talk to Shia, and I would greatly appreciate if you didn’t call this number again.” There is a short pause as Robert talks to her. “I will ask him, and I will call you to tell you. Bye.”

Shia stares at his hands and how they scrub pots and plates, dunking them into soapy water, and then rinsing the suds off.

“Shia…,” his mum hugs him from behind, but she doesn’t finish her sentence.

What is there to say anyway? I’m sorry? I hope you are fine?

There’s nothing his mother has to be sorry about, and everyone can see that he isn’t fine. So they both stay silent with him finishing the dish washing, and his mum putting the clean dishes away. Once they are finished they sink down on the comfortable couch in the living room, and quietly watch a prime time movie about some young couple.

Halfway into the film, today’s stress and tension catches up with him, and Shia falls asleep, his head resting against the soft upholstery of the couch.