Title: Beginning of the End Author: Clay Pairings: Greg/Ryan, hint of Ry/Col Rating: Light NC17 Summary: Greg doesn’t share. Pretty much a PWP. Author’s notes: Takes place after the taping of UK407 We’d only been in the bar for a little over an hour and I was already bored out of my skull. The entire night had been going rather poorly, so that by now I was in a fairly foul mood. Perhaps I was overreacting. The taping had actually gone rather well as far as our performances were concerned, but it just hadn’t been fun. Not in the way I was used to. To begin with, Ryan and I hadn’t done a single game together, just the two of us. I had grown accustomed to getting to play off him as of late, and to not have that chance was disappointing. And then there was Colin. It was his second shot at Whose Line, and if you ask me, he did rather well. Maybe he wasn’t as outgoing as the rest of us, but there was no doubt in my mind that Colin belonged. Colin, however, didn’t seem to see things that way. He’d been paired with Ryan most of the evening, which was part of the reason I wasn’t, but even with someone like Ryan for Colin to play off, he was still under the impression that he had blown the taping. He insisted that he had full on sucked no matter what the rest of us told him. We spent a good ten minutes trying to convince him that his performance was fine if only to get him to cheer up and party with us, but nothing we said seemed to make a dent. It wasn’t that he was whining or complaining, no, he just kind of clammed up. Colin barely said a word once we got to the bar, and had I not been positive he really was feeling as dejected as he looked, I would have sworn he was doing it to get Ryan’s attention. Either way, that’s exactly what was happening, and I was far from happy. Ryan seemed to have eyes only for Colin, spending the evening trying to coax him out of his depression. Brad and I had managed to pull Ryan into our various conversations, but he in turn tried to get Colin to join in. It rarely worked, and inevitably Ryan would be back to cheering up the sullen Canadian. This had been going on in a vicious little cycle since the moment we left the studio, and I was currently fighting the urge to kick Colin in the head. If something didn’t happen soon to lighten the mood, I was afraid that I’d be doing a Hell of a lot more than that to him. Even Brad was starting to feel the effects of Colin’s melancholy. He had just aborted his fifth attempt at conversation, drumming his fingers on the scarred wood of the table and sighing into his beer mug. He shot me a look that begged for help, a way to solve this or at the very least an escape route, but I could only shrug. There was no way I was leaving here without Ryan. I wanted him alone, and I wasn’t about to let Colin ruin that. “Anyone want to go to a club?” Brad suddenly asked. The question was met with uncomprehending stares. It was a fair shot to guess Brad had forgotten that his companions were all married, and even if those marriages weren’t as sacred as they once were, we weren’t about to flaunt the fact by picking up girls. “Oh, right,” Brad said sheepishly after another moment. The lack of cooperation wasn’t getting him down, though, or maybe he was just looking for any reason to get out of there, because he stood, saying, “Well, I’m going to go. There’s got to be some decent ass in this city. See you around.” In the minutes that followed, I was effectively forgotten, ignored as Ryan spoke to Colin in hushed tones. Despite the fact that I was just across the table I couldn’t make out a word of what he was saying. It drew a smile and an almost laugh from Colin, though. Ryan lit up when Colin laughed, and I snapped. “I’m going to go now, too,” I said, standing so abruptly that I nearly overturned my chair. There was no response. I doubt they even heard me. I cleared my throat and repeated myself, slightly louder. Colin was still staring at Ryan like a love sick prepubescent girl, and Ryan was eating it up. Ryan mumbled some affirmative response, clearly not listening, and only pissing me off further. My hands clenched into fists at my sides of their own accord. “Ryan,” I said, quite loud now, “can I talk to you?” “What?” Ryan finally looked at me. What he saw seemed to sober him immediately. The smile dropped off his face, and he shot an apologetic look to Colin. “I’ll be right back,” he said before following me to the other side of the room. I slowly unclenched my fists as we walked. Small, pink half moons decorated my palms where my nails had dug into the flesh. I reached the far wall and leaned against it, my back pressed against the peeling paint. I crossed my arms and glared at Colin while I waited for Ryan to catch up with me. Colin was watching Ryan, following him across the room with his eyes, an unreadable expression on his face, before turning to look into his half empty mug of beer. “What’s up?” Ryan asked, coming to stand before me. He was blocking my view of Colin, so I moved my gaze to a stain on Ryan’s sleeve. For some reason I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “What’s up?” I threw back at him, glaring at the stain as though it had wronged me in ways that went far beyond the realm of forgivable. “What are you doing? Ryan didn’t answer, which was fine by me. I was just getting started. “I though we had plans, but you’ve barely said one word to me the whole night. How long were you planning on consoling your little boyfriend?” I gestured erratically in Colin’s direction, finally swinging my eyes up to meet Ryan’s. He returned the look emotionlessly at first, but as I continued to glare at him, a smile crept across his lips ever so slowly. “You’re jealous.” “Jealous?” I scoffed. “Of that?” I was being unnecessarily harsh and I knew it, but the truth was that I was jealous. After all, Ryan and I only saw each other a few weeks out of the year. I wasn’t about to give him up for some newcomer. Ryan’s eyes had darkened at my words, his lips pulled into a taut frown. I wasn’t helping myself out here. “Look,” I said, knowing I had to fix this now or sleep alone tonight, “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.” I lay a palm against his chest. I could feel the heat of his skin through the cotton of the t-shirt he wore. His heart beat thrummed against the pads of my fingers, seeming to soak into the skin, a delightful vibration that tricked my own heart into beating twice as fast. “I just thought we were going to spend some time alone.” My voice had lowered to just above a whisper. As I spoke I trailed my hand down Ryan’s chest and across his belly to rest at the lip of his jeans. Ryan’s breathing had picked up to match the racing of his heart. “But what about Colin?” The amusement had gone from his voice to be replaced with barely masked lust. “What about him?” I challenged, staring straight into Ryan’s eyes. Ryan hesitated for maybe half a second before saying, “I’ll get rid of him.” Then he was walking away. My eyes drifted to his ass, watching the way his jeans stretched taut over the muscles before lifting my gaze to Colin. Ryan was saying something to him. I could see disappointment etched across his features. I felt only a moment’s pity before a smug smile settled itself over my lips. The second we entered my hotel room I slammed Ryan up against the door, hands fisted in his t-shirt as I kissed him. Normally Ryan and I didn’t kiss; it was far too personal, and this was about sex, not love. At least that’s what I told myself. Tonight was different. I was still far too angry, and I had to make one thing clear: Ryan was mine. He returned the kiss after only the slightest of hesitations. He bowed his head to give me better access, hands sliding up and over my back, pulling me forward so that our chests were flush against each other. I could feel his every inhale, not that we were doing much breathing. I kissed him hard and angry; my tongue dove inside his mouth to slide over his teeth and around his tongue, touching and claiming every inch of the hot, wet cavern I could reach. His hips bucked against mine, and I pulled away to chuckle, low and throaty. “You’re hard,” I whispered. “I thought that was the idea,” he returned equally low, his voice rumbling deep in his throat. “Besides,” he continued, his hands sliding down my back to cup my ass, jerking me against him, “so are you.” “So I am.” I smiled, reaching up to claim his lips once more. This kiss was less frenetic, but just as intense. I took Ryan’s jaw between my palms, delving into his mouth with the ease of familiarity and the passion of a man deprived. Ryan tugged my shirt from where it was tucked into my pants. The satin brushed my skin, eliciting a moan that I breathed into Ryan’s mouth, reminded of why I bought the shirt to begin with. He was working on the front of my slacks now. His movements were slow, but confident, intent on taking the time to tease me before claiming his prize. In return I moved my hold from Ryan’s jaw to slide down the column of his neck, trailing the chords of muscle with my fingertips. I ran into the collar of his shirt and let out an involuntary groan of frustration. In seconds the shirt was up and over his head, discarded like the unnecessary bit of cloth that it was. I had to break our kiss to achieve that and never quite regained it. Rather we just shared in each other’s breathing, lips parted and barely brushing as we panted into the other’s mouth. We were far too concerned with undressing now to deal with the complexity of kissing anyhow. Now that Ryan had lost his shirt, I was taking full advantage of the expanse of exposed skin, taking the time to remember the planes of his pectorals, rediscover each dip and curve of his abdomen. I found Ryan’s nipples and dusted my fingers over the flesh, delighted to feel them tighten beneath my hands. Some time during all this we had moved into the middle of the room, shedding clothes with more and more difficulty as passion overrode common sense. Ryan continued to press me back, tugging down my pants until they were low around my thighs, and I had to take tiny, quick steps to keep up with him. The back of my knees hit the bed, and I stumbled, falling flat on my back. My shirt, shoes and socks were long gone, so it took Ryan little time to strip me of my pants and underwear. I lay on my back, completely exposed, watching Ryan in the yellow light of a street lamp coming through a gap in the curtains. His eyes raked over my body. His chest heaved with each breath, eyes dark and intense. He started to remove his jeans then, not once taking his eyes off me. He was moving seductively slowly, pausing once to rub his palm over the head his cock through his underwear before removing them completely. I waited through the display with a patience I hadn’t known I possessed. Even after he was naked, Ryan simply stood over me, tall and lanky and absolutely beautiful. His fingers played across the underside of his shaft as he stared down at me in rapt silence. “Save some of that for me.” My voice came out rough, and I cleared my throat, intent on practically ordering Ryan to join me on the bed if he didn’t move soon. Fortunately I didn’t have to. Ryan stepped forward to kneel on the bed, straddling my thighs. He leaned down, supporting his weight on his arms, an unreadable expression in his eyes. He kissed me then, much softer than ever before and with far more emotion than I had ever been able to coax out of him. A part of me wondered at that, but the next moment Ryan had wrapped on large hand around my cock and all else was forgotten. Ryan continued to kiss me as he stroked up and down my shaft. Most nights it was all Ryan would do for me, and though it was basically one step away from masturbation, it sure as Hell felt like more. Ryan pulled back and my eyes drifted open. He was inches away, his own eyes half lidded, staring into my own, reading the pleasure on my face and drinking it in like wine. The intensity of the moment left me gasping, my hands coming up to clench at Ryan’s shoulders, his skin hot beneath my palms. He smiled down at me, thrilled to be the cause of such a reaction. His pace quickened, and soon I was crying out, spilling over his hand and splattering both our stomachs. He continued for another minute, milking my cock until he was content that I had nothing more to give. Only then did he stand and cross to the bathroom. I watched him walk away from me, fascinated by the way he moved. It wasn’t what I would call graceful or even sexy, but there was just something about him – something so appealing that words could never do it justice. When he returned, he was cleaning himself off with a wadded up bit of toilet tissue. I found this all unnecessary, maybe even a bit insulting. From my point of view, he was awfully quick to wipe away any evidence of our love making. It was quite possibly that little thread of anger that made me grab Ryan’s wrist as he bent to wipe off my stomach. Ryan was far stronger than me, and had I not surprised him by the sudden movement, I would never have been able to flip him off me, using the fact that he was only supported on one hand to send him off balance, dropping onto the bed, flat on his back. I sprang up immediately and crawled over him, settling my legs to either side of his waist. Ryan still looked shocked, but in seconds that had faded away to be replaced by the sexiest smile he’d ever given me. He tossed away the wad of paper and lay both hands flat against my stomach, teasing the skin beneath with tiny twitches of his fingers so that my muscles jumped and contracted at the contact. I was still intent on getting my revenge. Ignoring the sparks of pleasure his touch induced, I leaned forward, latching onto his throat with my mouth and sucking hard at the juncture where neck met shoulder. Ryan purred in response. His hands tightened on my abdomen, moving around to the sides for better purchase. I continued to abuse his neck, sucking on it vampire-like, and only pulling back once or twice to graze the sensitive skin with my teeth. I finally drew away to inspect my work and was quite pleased. A dark circle bloomed across the otherwise flawless skin, marking him, branding him as my own. It was a damn good thing he wouldn’t be going home to his wife for a couple weeks yet. Satisfied, I shuffled lower over his body. I could feel his until now neglected erection trailing precum along my stomach where it made contact with my skin. Ryan gave an involuntary buck of his hips. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, as he watched me moved down his body. He knew what was coming, and he was more than ready for it. I dipped by head low over his erection, keeping our eyes locked, a smile on my lips. I darted my tongue out to taste him, salty and bitter and wonderful. He breathed a moan. I could see his throat working soundlessly, his adams apple bobbing before he let out a soft sigh. It was a beautiful sight, but I wanted more. I wanted to see him lost in pleasure, head thrown back, knuckles white as he clutched at the sheets. With that thought in mind I finally broke eye contact and took him in my mouth. Ryan was big, and there was no way I’d be able to take all of him, not that I didn’t try. I kept one hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, squeezing in time to the workings of my lips and tongue. I alternated between sucking up the length of him and running my tongue around the head of his cock, light and teasing. The next time I looked up Ryan was little more than an unintelligible mass. His eyes were shut tight, mouth open and panting. One of his large hands reached down to thread his fingers through my hair, tugging ever so slightly when I did my job especially well. I could feel his orgasm approaching. His fingers had wound into my hair, his grasp almost painful, but I didn’t care. Ryan was making that purring sound again, though now it was halted, desperate, coming out between shuddering breaths. I hummed my approval, gaining yet more wonderful noises from him, and swallowed as much of him as I could. Ryan came then, hard and heartbreakingly beautiful. His pelvis arched off the bed, seeking to drive into me further, and I took it as best I could, only gagging slightly as he flooded my mouth. It was a taste I had come to associate solely with Ryan, and that alone made it delicious. I released him after another moment, crawling up alongside his body. His eyes were still shut tight, chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. I licked my lips, eyeing his shining chest with a craving I could never satisfy. I could taste him strongly on my tongue, but I still wanted more; I wanted to lick every bead of sweat from his skin, and it still wouldn’t be enough. Instead I stretched languidly, watching him come down. There was a pack of cigarettes in the pocket of my pants, and I scrounged around the floor at the foot of the bed for them, keeping my eyes on Ryan all the while. His eyes were open now, staring at the ceiling, a hazy smile on his lips. “Smoke?” I offered, holding one out to him after I had scooted back up beside him. He took it with a nod of thanks, sitting up and placing it between his lips as I held out a light. We sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in our own thoughts as smoked curled around us and up out of sight. I was feeling a bit lethargic, but I wasn’t about to go to sleep just yet. The night was young, and I was far from being finished with Ryan. If I had my way we had just gone through the opening act. I was just about to bring it up, my cigarette burned nearly to the filter when Ryan spoke. His words halted me in my tracks, something cold and solid forming in the pit of my stomach. It was the very last thing I wanted to hear from him. “I’m still worried about Colin.” Any euphoria I had been feeling fled the instant he said that. “Colin’s a big boy,” I told him, fighting to keep my voice neutral. “He can take care of himself.” “Yeah...,” Ryan said slowly, thoughtfully, “but we left him depressed in an unfamiliar city. It doesn’t feel right.” “Jesus, Ryan,” I spat, unable to keep the angry sarcasm from my tone, “you want to invite him into bed with us?” It was obviously not a serious question, but Ryan seemed to take it as such, his brow furrowing. “Colin is straight.” “So were you before we met,” I wanted to say, but I held my tongue. What I said instead wasn’t any better. “Bull shit.” This peaked his interest far more than I was comfortable with. He turned to me then, his cigarette long forgotten, burning to ash between his fingers. “What do you mean?” I didn’t want to be having this conversation now. I wanted to be on my hands and knees, Ryan buried in me up to the hilt. “Can we talk about this later?” I pleaded, stubbing out my cigarette in the ashtray on my bedside table and then offering it to him. He took the ashtray mindlessly, dropping his cigarette into it before tucking it away on the night stand behind him. “Come on,” he argued, “what did you mean by that?” I sighed. It looked like I wasn’t getting out of this unscathed. The least I could do was get it over quickly. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I ground out, much harsher than I had intended, but I was getting angry now. “You don’t see the way he looks at you?” Ryan frowned. “We’re friends.” “Right. Sure. Whatever.” If Ryan didn’t want to see it, that was fine by me. He was quiet for a few minutes. I turned away to stare out at the sliver of night I could see through the window. “You really think so?” he said at last. I turned back to Ryan abruptly, intending to yell at him, to curse and empty out all of my anger and insecurities, but just then my eyes fell upon the hickey I had given him just minutes before, and suddenly Colin didn’t matter. Ryan was here with me. He was mine. “No,” I lied. “I’m just being jealous and stupid.” “Oh.” If there was a hint of disappointment in his voice, I ignored it. No matter what happened in the future I had Ryan now, and nothing could change that. I took his head in my hands and pulled him into a kiss. He responded without hesitation, and soon I had forgotten all about the outside world, about Colin and our wives. For now, it was just us. End 08/10/05