Imperfect Scenarios Pairing - Greg/Col/Ry Rating - PG/13 Summary - My first Greg fic. Greg has a crush (or several) that won't die. Disclaimer - This is a work of fiction from which I derive no profit. Nor do I own any of these characters and any similarities to real life are purely coincidental. I'm straightening my suit coat in back of Raleigh studios as I stare into the mirror at my reflection. I know it's obvious to most people, but I am absolutely obsessive about my appearance. In fact, I'm obsessive about a lot of things. My hair must be in perfect condition before I ever step out on stage or I'll worry about it the entire time, and I hate worry lines. They crease my eyes and make me look older, and I despise them. I've only ever resorted to Botox once - because I was feeling especially unattractive, and when I start to feel that way, I tend to get snippy and irritable with the other players. When I turn in the mirror, I try not to notice the imperfections - like maybe my ass is too big, or maybe my face is too fat, or maybe this shirt doesn't necessarily match my tie... God, there's too much to focus on. Way too much. When I stride on stage to take my seat, the first person I notice (the first person I always notice) is Colin. He's the epitome of talent here - like the God of improv, and I always feel the need to bow to him, but of course, I suppress that urge. Yeah, it's safe to say that I'm insecure, but I'm such a good actor that I *act* like I'm confident. In this profession, confidence is absolutely essential. Otherwise, the audience will eat you alive. When I glance over at Drew, I notice he's speaking quietly into his cell phone, and I feel a brief moment of contentment. The portly American is nothing like Clive Anderson, his British, neck-less, counterpart. Clive and I argued almost constantly in what felt, at first, like good-natured ribbing but which turned into vicious nasty mud slinging. It became almost impossible to even get through a taping without keeping up my defenses and feeling emotionally wounded. Needless to say, I was glad when Whose Line moved permanently to L.A. It's nearly time for taping to begin when Ryan finally strolls onto the stage and takes his place next to Colin. It's a sick habit of mine, but I can't keep my eyes off of them. They have such great chemistry; I'm always hoping some of it will rub off on me. Leaning forward a bit, I glance in their general direction and watch as Colin reaches over to touch Ryan's shoulder. Ryan's green eyes slide toward Colin in such a way that it speaks volumes without words or even sound. He's smiling - almost always smiling - and Colin has that shy grin on his lips. If they aren't secret lovers, then my name is Mother Theresa. But of course, as I've learned in the past, it does no good to speculate on such issues. The bond between Colin and Ryan seems to transcend all rational mediums. Like how Wayne Brady can come up with a song at any time for any occasion in any style you suggest to him. Or how Chip seems to have channeled the energy of a schoolyard full of five year olds which enables him to leap and dance and flip across the stage like the reincarnation of Peter Pan, the ageless boy. But me, I'm just Greg. No special talent or unique gift - except the gift for shady jibes and effeminate gestures. I've had to defend my heterosexuality so much in my lifetime, I've decided to get it tattooed on my forehead, 'I'M NOT GAY!' The only problem is, I'd be kind of lying. When I glance over at the others, I'm not just making platonic observations about their gifts and abilities. I'm also noticing things about them which fuel my imagination and gives me something to think about when I'm alone in the lavatory. Like how Wayne jumps and makes a grand gesture out of his little quirks and occasionally allows just a sliver of his chocolate colored skin to become visible to my own naughty eye. Or how Ryan smirks at me or touches me in such a lingering way to let my mind speculate on the many possibilities. And then, there's Colin. Ah, Colin... It doesn't even seem probable that he would attract me the most, but he does. Sure, Brad and Chip are young and attractive and reminiscent of the cute fraternity guys in the gay porn I've been known to download off the internet, but there's just something about Colin - something untouchable. When he's preparing for a scene, its as if he doesn't even need to do anything. Like the character has been lying dormant within him the entire time. Comedy comes so easily to him, and I find myself staring in awe of him, watching intently to see where he'll take the scene, anxious for myself and hoping I'll be able to follow where he leads. Sometimes, it can be a challenge keeping up with him, but I guess that's what makes us professionals. That is one good thing I can say about myself. I'm a definite professional. The show progresses without incident, and I sit back and watch one instance of Ryan and Colin playing a game of Sound Effects. How the hell do they do that? How does Ryan anticipate Colin's every move, and how does Colin know what sounds are going to be made? It seems almost rehearsed, but I know it isn't. There's no way it could be. They don't know what's on the cards anymore than me and Wayne know, but somehow... I don't know... They rarely even look at each other during this game, but they just know. So, I spend at least part of my time taping (roughly) one in four episodes of Whose Line and the rest of my time doing stand-up and making various guest appearances on late night talk shows, but while I'm here there's a ton of baggage that comes with it. There's my real life, and then there's Whose Line where I'm surrounded by the most sexually ambiguous guys I've ever known - and these guys are just sexually ambiguous enough to drive me insane while I sit on stage with them and they make sordid comments at me and each other. But still, my attention always comes back to Ryan and Colin. I always wonder (in the words of a modern-day wise man) 'How deep does the rabbit hole go?' To see them interact, you'd think they'd have been married for years - and I don't mean to women. They just have a comfort level with one another that seems almost unnatural and somehow completely natural, if that makes sense. I can't even imagine them going home to families. I imagine Colin and Ryan going home together. Colin making dinner while Ryan changes and showers, Ryan humming a soft tune while Colin massages his feet, Colin kissing the curly hair on top of Ryan's head while they embrace on a plush futon in someone's sitting room. And I have to be honest, it drives me nearly insane with jealousy. But how could that be? I'm straight. The taping ends with another bad Hoedown, and I am sitting in my chair as Ryan and Colin read the credits in whatever way Drew has prompted them while I try and stop the nervous tapping of my fingers against my thigh. I plan to leave here and go straight to my house where I can feed the dogs and hopefully be free for a few hours so I can fantasize about the absences in my life. Inside my trailer, I am shedding the blazer and searching for my jacket when a soft rap comes to the door. When I open it, I am surprised to find Colin and Ryan standing on the other side. "Hey Greg," Ryan says cheerfully. "Good taping tonight, although you seemed a little preoccupied." I swallow hard and rub at my eyes beneath my glasses. "What? Did I like totally suck or something?" Colin is shaking his head as Ryan answers for himself. "No. You didn't suck. Don't take it personally. You just need to relax a bit." He glances at his shorter friend before regarding me. "You want to come with us to a spa? We'd been planning to go when Col mentioned inviting you." Now, when I turn my gaze on the balding Canadian, I can barely hide my surprise and glee. It's not often that Colin and I have 'moments' - Hell, we rarely even speak outside of Raleigh studios but that he thought of me brings a swell to my heart and makes me feel somehow wanted. "Oh. How sweet of you gentlemen. Colin. But I would hate to intrude on your personal time together - I mean..." I'm shrugging, searching for the words while also trying to hide that I am unbearably attracted to Colin, lest Ryan should find out and flog me. Speaking of which, he lays one large hand on my shoulder sending a chill through my body, and I mentally chastise myself. 'Right, Proops. Attracted to Colin. You're so desperate, you'd probably sleep with either of them - Hell, maybe even Drew if the drinks were flowing good.' "Oh, cut the bullshit, Greg." Ryan's voice brings me out of my reverie (and quite nicely, I might add). "You know you want to. Besides, we invited Wayne too, but he's playing daddy tonight, so?" "Sounds like fun..." I muse as Colin smirks and Ryan rolls his eyes. Hee Hee. The funnest part about being myself is that I can make the gayest comments in the Universe and it is totally accepted. If all the bets were off, I'm sure I'd be nominated, 'The Gay One' by the fans and executives alike, but I'm not, of course. It's just a part of my persona. The role I play. Never mind that my penis is twitching at the thought of seeing Colin Mochrie in nothing but a terrycloth waist towel. Frankly, it's all a matter of semantics... or so I like to tell myself. "Okay. Sure. Why not?" I say trying to sound completely noncommittal while inside, I'm screaming. I hope I don't do anything stupid. I hope I don't look too fat in the robe they give me. I hope they both seduce me inside the steam room. Oh God. Where did that come from... The three of us ride to the 'spa' in Ryan's huge massive truck-like vehicle. I'm holding on for dear life in the backseat while up front, Ryan and Colin have an intimate discussion about nothing in general which goes something like this: "So, did you see it yet?" Colin asks, eyes trained on the taller man. "Um. No, but I will. I promise." Colin snorts. "I don't believe you." "Believe me." Ryan glances briefly at Colin, and his green eyes flash endearment before returning to the road. "I've just been busy." "Well, you don't have to watch the entire thing - just my scenes." Ryan nods, doesn't respond for a moment, then replies quietly. "I'll need to watch the whole film so I won't take your scenes out of context." Colin shrugs. "Well, I'm warning you, it's a really bad film. I'm not just downplaying it. It really is awful." Ryan chuckles. "Oh, it can't be that bad." Then Colin turns to me in the backseat, and I feel like a deer caught in headlights. "Greg, did you see Jane White is Sick and Twisted?" he asks, and I consider my response for the moment. If I tell him I saw it, he'll think I'm some kind of sick twisted bastard who watches and collects all of his obscure films and who probably has a shrine to him in the attic of my house (which I actually do), but if I say I didn't see it, he'll think I'm an insensitive bastard who doesn't believe in supporting his fellow colleagues and their creative endeavors. "Um, yeah, I saw it. Interesting piece." I swallow as Colin blushes and smiles a bit. "Don't worry. I won't ask what you thought of it." He responds and yet keeps his cappuccino eyes trained on me. I find myself gravitating towards him, suddenly wanting him really badly when Ryan hits a bump in the road, tossing me backward. Colin glances at Ryan, with raised eyebrows. "My goodness, Stiles, you're driving like a bat outta Hell." Ryan turns to Colin and grins, and I have that strong feeling again, that they're 'together'. The surge of jealousy makes me angry at myself. 'So, they're a couple dimwit. Who gives a shit. You don't have a chance in Hell with Colin anyhow, so get over it.' My inner voice shrieks as I glance out the window. Moments later, we pull up in front of a plain brick building with fern growing over the front of it, and in the background, two palm trees hover ominously like two Greek Gods, overseeing the activities of its visitors. When we get out, I smile up at them as Colin places a hand on my back. When I meet his eyes, he's smiling and I feel certain parts of me perking up at the promise in his glance. I can't help myself when I'm around him. I'm suddenly remembering his role in Jane White and how during one scene, he exposed his chest with is silky sprinkling of dark hair. My knees suddenly feel weak, and I can only shake my head dismissively when Colin regards me with those concerned endless dark orbs. Holy shit, I'm going to do something stupid. I know it. Once inside, we all head straight toward the locker rooms where men stand holding towels, and I shudder at the thought of being naked in front of my two colleagues. Of course, I am more than excited about seeing the two of them. So excited, in fact, that I can barely hide it. "I'm going to go to the bathroom, gentlemen." I announce, taking a towel with me as I do. Inside the stall, I quickly begin to disrobe, and have to think ugly thoughts to get my suddenly erect member to stand down from red alert. Ugly thoughts are thoughts of my Rabbi or thoughts of my Great Aunt Meryl or thoughts of Clive Anderson in a bathing suit. I shudder at that last as I wrap the towel around my waist and exit the men's room - holding my clothes in my arms and in search of a robe. Once in the lobby of the locker room, I find Ryan standing at a locker, glancing in my direction. "Hey - where'd you go?" He asks. "You can use this locker, if you want." I nod and lick my lips as I allow my eyes to dance over Ryan's tanned, long, lean torso and across his firm belly where pale hair leads down towards the promise of tomorrow. The fine hairs at the back of my neck stand up as I tear my eyes away just before taking in the sight of the prominent bulge at the apex of his thighs, covered only in white terrycloth. If he notices my discomfort, he doesn't make comment as I glance around the place for a robe - or anything that might cover my excitement. "Need a robe?" He ask, as I clutch the towel around me. I nod, glancing around and wondering where our other colleague has gone to. "Col went to get our steam room." He says, as if reading my mind. "We generally reserve one, but..." his voice trails off as he hands me a clean robe - from where? I don't know. "Okay." I say, tossing my suit in a locker and slipping the robe over my shoulders. "I guess I'm ready whenever you are." Ryan nods, smiling. "Alright. Do you want to get a massage first or..." I shrug. "Steam room is fine." His nod is his only response as he leads me through the locker room and into a pool area where I notice only men are present. Hmm...if I didn't know any better, I'd say this was a bath house, but that wouldn't be right. Colin and Ryan don't strike me as the bathhouse type. These places are for Japanese business men, lawyers, and guys like me who are completely in denial and in search of a quick thrill... hmm.. guys like me... When Ryan opens the steam room door, I glance in and see Colin immediately, sitting with his arms outstretched and his legs relaxed out in front of him. There is a towel around his waist, one slung around his neck, and his head is back. He looks completely relaxed, and I don't even think he notices us until he speaks. "You're letting in a draft." He seems to say this without moving his lips, and I come in and close the door, following behind Ryan. The taller man goes to where Colin is sitting and perches down directly next to him, regarding him with loving green eyes. The older man is already dripping with sweat and the sandy brown hair at his temples and back of his head is already drenched, pasting it to his skin. The dark hair on his chest and tummy is exactly as I thought it would be - just the way it was in the film, dark and silky and not in overabundance. Just enough to make him manly. I close my eyes briefly at the thought. "So, is this what you guys do to relax?" I ask, sitting on the other side of Colin - but not too close in case I should get impulsive and want to attack him. Just maybe an arm's length away. Ryan, on the other hand, is practically sitting on his lap. "Among other things..." Ryan says, with a hint of amusement in his voice, and I think I catch a flash of warning in Colin's eyes. "It's quiet and private - and it beats riding the ski machine." Colin's voice is deep, relaxed and sexy as Hell. I turn my attention to my robe and pull it off my shoulders, hoping I don't look too big. Especially when compared to Ryan, the skinny beanpole. I do notice a mole or two on my shoulders and consider pulling the white terrycloth back on before my inner voice tells me, in a shrill wail, to stop being a worrywart. "So, Greg..." Ryan starts, seeming more than a little relaxed. "...what's been on your plate, lately? I feel like we haven't really sat down and talked since London. How've you been?" I shrug and take off my glasses. "Um... I don't know. I guess I've been fine..." I fold the glasses and sit them on the bench next to me. "How about you?" Ryan smiles and nods. "I've been good, I guess. Family's good. Work's good..." He turns to Colin who has his head resting back against the bench. "...Everything's good." Now, the Canadian opens his eyes and sits up, regarding us both. "You two sound like the lost episode of Sesame Street. Personally, I could use a drink." We all have a chuckle at that as Ryan places a hand on Colin's shoulder. "Hey. I'm going to go swim a few laps." Colin nods but doesn't speak as the taller man lets himself out, and I'd be lying if I say my heart wasn't suddenly thumping a mambo in my chest at the prospect of being alone with him. "What?" Colin asks after a few seconds. "I know I'm not the keep-the- party-going- type of guy like is our friend Stiles, but..." I swallow hard and regard him, feeling like getting it off my chest for once and for all. "Are you two..." I pause, then force myself to continue. "...Are you and Ryan a couple?" Colin doesn't look at me, but the silence is tangible. Then he glances at me and smiles, pleasantly. "What do you think?" I hear myself laugh, nervously as I forage in my head for an answer. "Umm... I dunno... I guess I... well, I would assume that you...." His grin is adorable. "We're more than friends, but less than lovers." he says simply. In spite of myself, I heave a sigh of relief as I try to imagine what he means. Maybe they just hang out an awful lot... well... no. That would constitute just friends. Maybe they hang out a *really* lot and give each other the occasional hand job... well... wouldn't that make them lovers? "I can see the wheels in your head turning, Greg." Colin says. "And believe me, you're not the first person to make that inquiry. In fact, we get that a lot." I nod, feeling my cheeks redden, not bothering to care. "So, you aren't exclusive?" He snorts a laugh, then shakes his head. "Well, obviously not. We're both married, for God's sake. And the fact is, we're not sleeping together. Not anymore, anyway." Now, my head really starts to spin. I mean, this is better than any fantasy I've ever had. They've been together. The adorable Canadian and the lanky sex monster have done 'the deed', and now he's sort of confessing - and better than that, I'm alone with him. With Colin. When he regards me again, his eyes are concerned. "You don't have a problem with that, do you?" he asks, and I raise my eyebrows. Oh. Right. I forgot. In spite of everything I do, no one really believes I'm queer. That's funny. "Not at all, Colin. I think it's sweet. I mean, about you and Ryan." I exhale, slowly. "I sort of had my suspicions, but..." He nods. "Everybody did. I guess they were right." A hint of melancholy has slipped into his voice, and I pick up on it immediately. "Everything okay, Col?" sweat drips down the bridge of my nose, and I realize I have been properly steamed. I barely even noticed the heat. He nods. "Well. The thing is, Ryan can't seem to let go. It's intense between us, and I admit, I do love him..." His voice trails off, and I imagine there's a big 'but' coming. "...but we can't continue. Not like we were." His brown eyes meet mine again. "I've known you for a long time, Greg so I can be honest with you?" He sighs and seems suddenly exhausted. "...I just don't know." In my mind, I can almost sympathize with Ryan in this scenario. Why wouldn't he still want Colin? What's not to want? He's perfect, adorable, smart, funny... did I mention adorable? And those dimples - and that grin... "I can see why he still wants you." I hear myself blurt before I have the chance to stop the words. Holy shit. What did I just do? He meets my eyes. "Yeah?" His voice is soft and uncertain, and I am frightened I may have just inadvertently outted myself. Trying to play it off, I shrug. "Well, sure... yeah... I mean, you're talented and stuff..." God, now I just sound like an idiot. He smirks. "Thanks for the sentiment." He seems to sigh. The smile never leaves his face, and I have the urge to be implicitly honest with him. "Colin, what I meant was..." I pause, looking down at my hands. "...I think he'd be a fool to want to leave you. If it were me, you'd have to pry me away with a crowbar." Colin chuckles and blushes a bit, coloring his face a light pink. My goodness, I want him. "That's sweet, Greg." His gaze drops to his hands which are now folded in his lap. "I never knew you felt that way." I close my eyes and whisper. "I do." Colin's hand comes up to land on my shoulder and I shiver at the contact of skin on skin. So delicious. Our eyes link. "Does that make us married?" his voice is quiet and playful, and suddenly I feel all restraint falling away. My hand reaches up to stroke his cheek, lightly as he lowers his eyes. He's so shy and so wonderful, so manly and yet so sensitive. I can almost hear him breathing, and I wish I could know what he's thinking. My hand travels down his cheek and further down to land against his chest, and I suddenly feel as if I know him - better than I know myself. He's everything I'm not. Not only is he the gentle, shy, good-natured Canadian with the heart of gold, but he's also the passionate, talented, Scottish actor comedian with a certain confidence that doesn't come off as overpowering but which is instead somewhat understated, and he totally knows who he is - and isn't ashamed of it. "I want..." I don't know what to say, but Colin reaches up and pulls me into a kiss, and I feel every fiber of my being responding in accordance with the passion of that kiss. Holy Cow, I think I've died and gone to heaven. I'm sinking into the kiss, standing and never losing contact, hovering above him and holding him close while never breaking the kiss, with one knee resting on the bench next to him, the other leg between his, and one arm holding his while the other cradles his head. I feel like a brute, but I can't ever break this kiss. I don't need to come up air. I hope I die like this, kissing Colin. Then, he breaks it, and I feel cut off from life support. I sink back down on the bench beside him, gasping and wiping sweat from my brow. The realization hits like a freight train. "Sorry, Colin..." My voice sounds like an awkward preteen caught making out. He laughs quietly and wipes his face with his towel. In just that instant, Ryan comes into the room, and I find myself scooting several inches away from Colin, in defense, and sitting on my glasses in the process. Breaking them. Fuck. "Hey guys." Ryan comes in dripping wet from head to foot and wearing a pair of white swim trunks. "Ooh... Greg..." Ryan's eyes go to the broken remnants of my bi-focals. "Have an accident?" I just glance up at him without speaking, cradling the shards in my hands. Between this and the incident several seconds earlier, my emotions are all over the place. And what's worse, he takes his seat next to Colin - like its his rightful position, like he owns him or something. I suddenly have this uncontrollable urge to wring his neck, but I don't. That wouldn't accomplish anything. "Yeah." I say, sullenly. "An accident." "You have another pair?" Colin puts in. I nod without glancing up "Back at my car." "At Raleigh?" Ryan asks. "You need them *now*?" Biting my lip, I suddenly stand and exit the steam room. It's just too much. I'm in the locker room changing back into my suit when Colin comes in behind me. "I'm sorry." He says. "It was my fault." I turn to him, glad for the emptiness of the locker room. "God. No, Colin. I touched you... I wanted it..." He smiles. "I kissed *you*." "Yeah - and I kissed you back. You want to argue about it?" He sits on the bench and watches me dress. "I don't want you leave." Now, I turn to him, surprised. There aren't many people who want me around and there are even less who are brave enough to say it. His eyes look sincere, and I want to be near him, but I can't deal with the ever-present Ryan Stiles - no matter how sexy he looks in see- through white swim trunks. I just can't deal with their relationship or non-relationship or whatever the Hell they're calling it. "I don't want to be the reason..." I say, unsure how to finish. "...for your break-up." "But you aren't." He says. "Ryan and I have been on the way out for a long time. It's just getting tiresome." I sigh and sit on the bench next to him. "But you guys have such... I dunno... chemistry..." He nods. "I know we do - and that won't ever change, but... I don't know... he smothers me with it... with this... you're a nice change of pace." I smile at him, glad to have someone appreciate me. "I really need my glasses. They're like... a security blanket." He nods. "That's your persona. How will the L.A. paparazzi ever recognize you without them?" It was meant to be a joke, but it raises a good point. "Right. You're absolutely right, Colin." His laugh is quiet as he reaches up to tousle my hair, now a dark damp mass of ringlets laying against my forehead, somehow defeated. I feel myself getting aroused again and reach up to still his hand. "Careful. Ryan might come in and shoot us." I say, holding his hand. "And the headlines will read, 'Whose Gay Scandal is it Anyway?'" Colin closes his eyes, his lips stretched into an amused grin. "You really ought to relax." I shrug, only half-kidding. "Right. Relax. I'm already imagining the look on my mother's face as she refuses to meet the eyes of our Rabbi." Leaning in, Colin brings his mouth to mine, and this time, I taste him. My hand comes up instinctively to hold his cheek as our tongues touch, and my penis hardens almost instantly. Now, it's my turn to break the kiss. "I better leave." I say in a ragged voice, standing to straighten my tie. "Okay." Colin says, sounding strained, and I wonder if I've had an effect on him, then he stands and reaches for my hand, placing it right over his package which is about as rigid as a brick. "Yes." He says, softly. "You're having an effect on me..." Part2 Days later, I find myself back at Raleigh studios and back on the Whose Line set. I'm sitting in my chair with my hands folded in my lap as I watch Wayne Brady serenade an audience member. He's doing another one of his impeccable impersonations of a famous pop star during a game of Song Stiles, but I couldn't even tell you which one. My mind is elsewhere as my foot taps silently on the carpeted floor. Not only is my mouth dry, but my face feels hot. I dare not reach for my glass of water or else I'll risk the glass falling from my trembling hand and interrupting production, costing another million or so dollars of time. God, Hollywood can be stressful. Then again, maybe they'd leave it in. Afterall, this is a comedy show. One chair down, to my left, the famous duo sits chattering as usual in their little conspiratorial way, and its as if last week didn't even happen. The memory of Colin in a towel, the memory of our kiss, the memory of our conversations feel more like a wet dream - straight out of the Greg Proops dreambook. Man, that sounds like a bad title for my Autobiography. So, this is my first day back to the set, and I purposely arrived late so I could just come straight in, dress, get primped and powdered by the make-up crew and take my seat mere minutes before Drew began his intros. I felt Colin glance in my direction once, and he even said something pleasantly perfunctory to me during a game of Lets Make a Date, but otherwise, I've made myself unavailable to him. In a way, I feel as if I'm being shady. It's not like we parted on a bad note, but after I'd called a taxi from the spa and gone home to really think about the situation, it seemed like a bad idea. He and Ryan are a couple - no matter how much he downplays it. I'd still be coming between the two of them, and I've known Ryan as long as I've known Colin. Granted, we're not as close, but I still have a general respect for the lanky bastard. I'd be a shithead to try and steal his... friend? Lover? God, what are they? Anyway, after reevaluating the situation, I'd decided not to pursue it, regardless of the aching need still wracking my body, several inches south of my heart. "Hey." I turn to the sound of the whisper. It's Ryan. "We're doing Two Line Vocabulary." I nod and stand automatically, approaching the stage with Ryan and Colin as Drew rattles off the rules of the game and the scenario. Where was my mind just then, anyway? "You, Colin, are the Navy Captain and your ship is being attacked." Drew reads from the card. "Greg and Ryan are your shipmates and they can only say two lines. Ryan, your two lines are, 'What the Hell?' and 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?' And Greg, you can only say, 'That's not what you said yesterday.' and 'Wouldn't you like to know.'" Drew pauses for reactions, then continues. "Colin can say whatever he wants. So, that's the scene. Whenever you're ready, take it away..." Colin starts, miming frantically as if he's fiddling with controls as Ryan pretends to look through binoculars. "What the Hell?" He muses, as Colin turns to him. "Gentlemen, we have a problem. There's... a war being raged, and... the ship is going down. We've been hit." Ryan chimes in with, "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" The crowd has a laugh, as does Drew. Colin nods and continues. "Yes, I'm saying what you think I'm saying." He turns to me, and I hope the glare of my glasses takes away from the beginning blush. "I need you to man the controls." "That's not what you said yesterday." I say, feigning ignorance. Crowd guffaws. Colin puts on his exasperated face. "I know I didn't say it yesterday, but I'm saying it now." "What the Hell?" Ryan pipes in. Colin shakes his head and turns to Ryan. "Nevermind. I need you to fire the canon." "What the Hell?!" I chuckle. "That's not what you said yesterday." Ryan's voice is low as he addresses me. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" "Wouldn't you like to know?" I reply, fluttering my eyelashes. "Gentlemen!?" Colin is getting his angry face, and I'm enjoying it, immensely. "I need you..." He turns to me as I shake my head, interrupting. "That's not what you said yesterday." I tease as crowd laughs and Drew has a chuckle at our expense. "...to aim... the port to starboard..." Colin and his lack of knowledge about ship's engineering is enough to make anyone laugh. "What the Hell?" Ryan shakes his head, holding back a smile and making Colin smirk at his own ignorance. "Forget that. We'll implement a new plan... for that, I'll need both of you..." Now, I'm incredulous and only half acting. "That's not what you said yesterday." Colin turns to me and his brown eyes flash brief knowledge. I've struck a cord. He turns to Ryan again, and I feel satisfied with myself. "I need you on deck..." Ryan nods, letting his eyes become dangerous and sexual as he regards the Canadian. "Are you saying what I *think* you're saying?" The crowd bursts with laughter. Colin shakes his head, fed up. "I'm sure I'm not!" Now he turns to me again and pauses, biting his lip, unsure how to proceed. "What?!" I sigh. "Wouldn't *you* like to know?" The audience continues on in amused applause and laughter as Colin shakes his head, and behind us, I see Wayne chuckling also. Ryan picks up on the innuendo and furrows his brow in sudden realization. "What the Hell!?" "Wouldn't you like to know?" I repeat, swishing my hips and winking at Colin who unmistakably blushes. Ryan puts his hands on his hips and approaches me. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Without speaking, I nod suggestively, and the crowd cracks up as Drew buzzes to mark the end of the game. "Two thousand points to Colin and his port to starboard..." Drew teases as the studio audience has another guffaw while we settle into our chairs, and I feel glad I was able to let off a tiny bit of steam. Its several hours later and evening has befallen L.A. as I change in my trailer. There were several moments during the taping when I wanted to reach out and grab Colin and kiss him or reach for him and hug him or just... touch him. But since I've made my decision, it would be unwise to go back on it. Afterall, Ryan has gotten so protective of the man; it's almost impossible to even have two seconds alone with him. When the soft tap comes to my door, I have a brief fantasy that its Colin and Ryan again, intending to ask me to the spa so I can tell them both to kiss my ass. But when I open it, it's Wayne standing in the threshold, holding a box of Godivas. "Oh my God." I yank him inside and snatch the box of chocolates from his hands, tearing through them like a premenstrual woman on the verge of hostile takeover. "You're a saint!" I'm stuffing the little gourmet chocolates into my mouth as he watches in amusement and horror. "Okay. Well. Greg, I see you're still suffering from depression. By the way, you can thank Drew for those." I glance up and wipe my mouth. "What am I doing? Goodness, how could you let me?" Wayne perches on the edge of my love seat. "What's going on with you, dude? You've not been yourself all day - even during the taping. You were like... in your own world or something." I nod, handing the box back to him and suddenly defensive. "I'm in a funk, okay. If I'm screwing up the show, then just tell me to leave. I'm sure Dan won't require much convincing." Now Wayne looks utterly surprised. "Hey. I didn't say all that, dude. I just figured you were having some emotional issues. You just need to bring it down a notch. Nobody's going to ask you to leave - besides, we have higher numbers when you're on anyway." My ears perk up. "What? Really? You're joking?" He shakes his head and adjusts his leather jacket. "I'm not joking. You attract ratings. You're funny." I sigh and suddenly have an uncontrollable urge to cry. It's just like in high school when I thought I was such a big stupid sap, and my entire class voted me most likely to succeed. I'd never been so surprised in my life. Except now. Glancing at Wayne, I realize he's not going for the door. In fact, he seems settled in, as if waiting. His hands are resting on his thighs and his warm open face still seems so boyish and friendly. In his leather jacket and Hugo Boss jeans, he looks like a Hollywood rich kid, and it's hard to believe that only ten years ago, he was practically nobody. But then again, as I regard his large friendly eyes, caring and honest, I realize he could never be nobody. "Wayne?" I sigh, pacing the room. "...There's just so much going on. I'm going through some... issues, I guess..." "MmmHmm?" He says. "...I already picked up on that much. But it wouldn't have anything to do with Ryan or Colin would it?" Okay. That's just weird. I can't even face him or the embarrassment and horror might show in my face. How the hell did he know that? As if reading my mind, he answers. "Greg, I've been working on this show for a big chunk of my adult life, so I've learned to see things. I've learned to read people." Now, I meet his eyes as he continues. "I picked up on it when there were issues between you Clive. I Picked up on the little flirting going on between Drew and Kathy. I pick up on it when Brad is having girlfriend troubles. I was the first one who noticed when Ryan and Colin started their 'thing', and now I notice how you respond to Colin. I'm not a dummy, and it's as plain as the nose on Ryan's face - you're in love with the Canadian." "Holy shit." I muse, quietly to myself, sinking into the love seat beside him. "Somebody kill me." His hand comes out to pat my shoulder, brotherly. "I understand. Hell, who hasn't had a little crush on Colin? I mean, he's the shit! But maybe you should tell him or something - instead of having seizures and stuff during tapings. That's not good for anybody." I chuckle in spite of myself and pretend to aim a gun at my head with my thumb and forefinger. "I mean it. Kill me. All this time I thought I was being low key." Wayne stands and straightens his jacket. "Oh. Right. You're straight. I forgot." His sarcasm is barely hidden as he goes for the door. "Talk to him, Greg. Colin is the easiest person in the world to talk to. And you'll feel better." I sigh and sink further into the cushions as Wayne exits. If he knows then maybe everybody knows. Colin and Ryan alike surely noticed that little stunt I pulled during Two Line Vocabulary. Ryan actually seemed pissed off by it - which sucks. Having Ryan angry with you is no picnic. He can actually be quite daunting if rubbed the wrong way. Pulling on a fresh blazer, I decide that Wayne is right. I should at least say something to him instead of leaving the incident at the spa unfinished. He deserves some kind of explanation one way or another. My legs feel like jelly as I make my way across the Warner Brothers lot, thinking that Colin is probably gone for the night since its nearly midnight and those guys usually go off with Drew for drinks and stuff. This thought makes it easier to walk, assuming he's not there. But when I get to his trailer, I hear sound coming from behind the door, and it sounds like Ryan's voice. I'm just about to leave when he pokes his head out the door. "Greg?" I turn to him and smile, shrugging. "Oh. Hey, Col. Sorry. I know its late but..." "Not at all..." he gestures for me to enter. "...come in." I'm apprehensive, thinking Ryan is lurking somewhere nearby. "I don't want to interrupt anything." Colin smirks. "Well, the only thing you'd be interrupting is me watching an old taping of Whose Line. Exciting stuff, huh?" So, that was the voice I heard. Not Ryan. Just the taped voice of Ryan. Creepy in its own right, but somehow relieving. I go inside and stand awkwardly in the center of the room, wringing my hands. He stops the tape he was watching and turns off the television. "Can't get enough of Whose Line, huh?" I ask, sounding like an idiot to my own ears. He chuckles. "I study them. See my mistakes. Things I did exceptionally well or things I could improve." He shrugs. "So. Now you know my secret. Deep down I'm as anal as you are." The jibe makes me laugh, and he moves about the room gracefully. "Have a seat, Greg. Want some coffee or health shake? Cigarette? Beer?" I shrug. "Sure. A beer sounds great." He goes to the mini-fridge and returns with two bottles. I'm still standing as he gestures for me to sit on his couch with him and I obey. "So, what are you still doing here? Don't you have a wife to get home to?" He asks, and I cough once, in defense I guess. "Don't you?" I reply, opening the bottle with the opener he gives me. He nods, unruffled. "Yeah. In Toronto. Worlds away." I return the smile he gives me and take a sip of the amber liquid. I am proud of myself for keeping my emotions in control. Had this been a week ago, I'd be battling an Eiffel tower sized erection - just from the circumstance alone. Now, however, I'm actually tranquil and only mildly aroused. "Colin, about last week..." He nods. "Yes. I was wondering when we'd ever discuss that." "I acted like an ass. I really shouldn't have expected anything from you." "I didn't think you did." He says, softly. "Did you?" I shrug. "Well, the truth is, I was hoping..." He lets a hand come forward to land on my thigh. "Hoping doesn't make things happen, Greg." Okay. Now, I'm getting erect but I can't let it blind me from my mission. "It's not a good idea with Big Brother always watching - and by Big Brother, I mean Ryan." Colin smirks. "Oh. I thought you were talking about Dan Patterson." I shrug. "Okay. Well. Him too." I sigh. "Everybody knows about you and Ryan. I'd be a wheel... or... at the very least, a running joke..." Colin shakes his head. "Certainly not a joke. And where do people get this notion about me and Ryan? It's not like it was, I assure you. I admit, it once was hot and heavy, but it's dulled tremendously in recent years. He spends a lot of his time at home, and I'm generally..." He pauses. "...well, I spend a lot of time by myself. People only base these rumors and things on what they see on Whose Line, but that's only a fraction of the story." I nod and consider his words. "Colin, I am so attracted to you. It's so difficult working with you sometimes..." "Like during Two Line Vocabulary, for instance?" he inquires, lightly as I feel my cheeks redden and warm. I nod. "Yeah." "You're always pushing the envelope, aren't you?" I shrug. "Was Ryan really pissed?" He peels the label from his beer bottle. "Um. Maybe, but he'll get over it. Ryan has anger management issues - and I'm only half- joking." I chuckle and glance at him. He has his legs crossed primly - like he generally sits on stage, and his hands seem so delicate, fiddling with the Budweiser label. His shirts lately have been so loose and brightly colored (Colin lost a lot of weight when the show moved to L.A. and is considerably slimmer now) and the one he wears now is like a reddish silk Japanese pattern. Beneath that, I can see the peek of white t-shirt beneath and he smells freshly groomed, almost flowery. When I meet his pensive eyes, they're deep and brown like endless pools of melted Godiva chocolate. Suddenly, I want him more than I can even express. Standing, suddenly, I move to exit. "What?" Colin asks, glancing in my direction. "Did I miss something?" I pause with my hand on the doorknob. "Colin..." I gasp as I lean my head against the threshold. "...Colin, I don't think I can handle this." He stands and comes to where I'm standing, purposely not touching me. It's so torturous - as if he's waiting for a definite signal from me, and I don't think I can give it. I don't even know where to go from here. "The ball is in your court, Greg. " His voice is very quiet; he's speaking well below microphone level, and I meet his stare. "I've expressed an interest..." I nod and lean towards him, as if in slow motion, resting my head against his shoulder. Finally, his hands come up to rest on my shoulders, and I'm afraid to let this moment go, afraid of what might (or might not) come afterward. "Greg?" he whispers. In the next instant, my mouth brushes his. It feels almost accidental. Then, I'm cradling his head and kissing him full on, tasting his mouth, savoring his surrender, marveling in the fact that he's totally dedicated to this. My hands slide down to his shoulders, and I'm pushing him back against the door, kissing him hard, sliding my tongue in his mouth and losing myself in the soft sounds he's making. When I pull back, I touch his face, gently, stroke the soft hair at his temples, trace his brow. His smile is so slight, expectant. I feel myself getting dizzy as his gentle hands reach up to push the blazer off my shoulders to land in a black puddle on the floor. Oh God, this is better than any fantasy I've ever had. The cool collected Colin Mochrie, undressing me, so nonchalantly as if he's reading an interesting article in the paper. Of course, there's an undercurrent passion, which makes my nerve endings crackle beneath my skin. Then, without warning, his mouth is on mine again, his tongue lightly teasing mine. Certain parts of my body are responding faster than I can tend to them. His hands slowly unbutton my vest, and I watch him as he does this, my hands resting on his shoulders, unwilling to lose contact. When he has the vest off, he starts in on the shirt and smirks at me. "How many layers are you wearing?" His voice is still that soft whisper, and I smile at him. "You're almost there." I say, in a ragged voice as I reach for him. I'm not quite as patient as Colin, and I find myself reaching beneath his shirt and snatching the white cotton t-shirt free of his slacks. When my hands finally reach his skin, he sighs as I drag my palms against his slightly hairy chest. God, I've never been so hard in my life. Our mouths crash together and there are so many contrasting elements. His gentle fingers lightly scratching my scalp, my rough hands brushing his nipples, squeezing his pectoral muscles, his soft breathing, his baby-soft hair, my ragged, harsh gasps, the uncomfortable erection poking in my pants against a cold metal zipper. "Colin..." I moan as he brings his mouth to my chest, kissing lightly, using warm palms to hold onto my torso. Pushing him gently away, I snatch his shirt apart, startling us both as the buttons fly. He clears his throat, and I momentarily wonder if I've pissed him off by ruining the garment, but the pause is brief, and in seconds, his mouth is on me again, sucking my left nipple. I cry out and reach for the fly of his slacks. When I'm pulling the belt slowly from its confines, I notice the huge bulge he was hiding beneath the long shirt. I meet his eyes, devilishly excited and start to slide down the zipper. He tenses and rests his hands on my shoulders as I meet his eyes. I pause before speaking. "Moving too fast?" I ask in a voice I can barely even hear myself. And with a slight grin, he shakes his head. "Not too fast. I'm just..." He smirks, nervously. "...I want you to continue." I nod, not entirely sure I believe him. "You're sure?" I confirm, and he nods, smiling. "Yes. Please." Then, I get an idea. "You do it." I let my hands drop (reluctantly) away from his fly. "I want to see you unleash the monster." His laugh is good-natured. "God, Greg. That's so corny." But his hands continue for me, without hesitation. "Well?" I muse, shrugging. "...It was the best I could do on short notice." He smirks again. "And you call yourself an improviser." Within seconds, his slacks are down around his ankles and he stands wearing only the black boxer briefs, t-shirt and the remaining shreds of his silk top. "I'll let you do the honors." He says, placing his hands on his hips and my hands go to remove the rest of his shirt and t-shirt. Then, I kneel in front of him. "God, Colin..." I say, moving my palm gently over the several inches of his solid muscle, covered only in black cotton. "?I had no idea." His chuckle is shy. "I don't generally broadcast information like that." I bring my face in close and kiss him through the material, eliciting a soft sound from him. "You're huge - a fucking Boa Constrictor...." His sigh is barely audible, but I notice and glance up at him. "What?" I ask, stroking my hands up and down his creamy white thighs. "What'd I say?" He shakes his head. "Nothing." His grin is genuine. "Lets go to the bed." I nod my agreement. "But first..." I reach for the waistband and start to slide it down over his hips. "...I want a glimpse." He nods and links his fingers behind him, smiling a trademark Colin grin as I expose the largest penis I've ever seen in person. My hands can't help but to dance against the swollen magnificent flesh, stone sheathed in satin. Fingertips trace every inch of it and back again, lingering on the head as Colin moans softly and leans his head back. "God, I want to taste you." I whisper, bringing my face in close. He licks his lips, closes his eyes, and rests back against the door. "You'll get no objections from me." His voice is breathy and expectant. Now, my hands are holding his flesh as I bring my lips close and kiss the head, letting my tongue snake out and tease him. The sound he makes is a gentle whimper, high in his throat. Shit, he's so sexy. My mouth closes on him and I engulf him as best I can before moving my head slowly up and down on him. His hand is in my hair and he's biting his lip. The other is on my shoulder, clutching tight. I love that he's enjoying it. I adore that I can bring him this kind of pleasure. My tongue swirls around and around his shaft and I pull him almost completely out before letting him sink completely in, and his breathing is ragged as his head rests back against the door. He's so quiet, and his pre-cum tastes so exotic as I reach around and grab his ass, pulling him in deeper. He's so disciplined, not even thrusting or forcing my head forward. Just accepting whatever I dish out, and I am loving it. In this instant, I see how feasible it is that I could fall completely in love with him. Never mind the ever- present executive Producer Ryan Stiles and his incredibly short leash on the Canadian. Then another thought occurs to me. What if he found out about this? God, what if he went postal? Suddenly, the fact that I'm here with Colin seems so precious, like a rare gift, and dammit, I intend to savor it - if for no other reason than the fact that it might never happen again. Pulling him out of my mouth, I stand and face him, kissing him fiercely as he cradles my face. "Lets go to the bed." I whisper when I break the kiss, and he leads the way, taking my hand. Moments later, we're naked and tangled in the sheets, and I am over him, touching every centimeter of his porcelain flesh. He's so pale and so fragile, I fear I may break him and worry that I am too heavy above him, but he holds me in place every time I try to move away. Then, I'm kneeling above him, kissing his chest, down his belly and along the dark silky trail leading to that beast he calls his penis. And it is raging hard, standing forward and proud like a Trojan warrior. It gives me a certain pleasure to be here with him, but deep down, half of it has a lot to do with Ryan. That arrogant bastard has no idea I'm here with his precious Colin, and I am loving it, loving that I might actually have a chance. Even beyond this night. When Colin's hand finds my own erect cock, he tugs it so gently I think I might melt right into the sheets. "Nice..." He whispers, pushing me onto my back. "...very, very nice." I feel myself flush as he bends his head and kisses down my torso, bypassing my midsection to kiss and nibble my thighs. Then he does something that makes me nearly bolt upright. His tongue gently slides along my scrotum, nibbling the sac and sucking it into his mouth. "Holy shit..." I yelp. "Colin... that's..." I can't find the words, and my eyes are crossed making it difficult to think. "...you're so good..." He chuckles and bends his head, letting my cock slide into his mouth without warning, and I find my hips moving of their own accord. My hand is on his head, the other clutching the sheet in a white- knuckled grasp. I don't even realize I'm still wearing my glasses until they begin to fog. Holy shit, he's so multi-talented. "Yeah, Colin... Oh God..." I hear myself whimper as he takes me deep and pulls almost completely out, repeating the process several times. It's amazing (and maybe a bit shallow) but I'm falling more in love with him with every new thrust. My cock is sliding in and out of heaven, and I might lose it if he doesn't slow down. "Colin..." I gasp, holding his shoulder. "...Col, wait... slow down... Col..." He releases me and meets my gaze with a hungry look on his face that makes me tremor beneath him. "Moving too fast?" he mirrors my earlier sentiment, and I smile weakly at him. "Maybe..." I whisper, pulling him up to lie against me. "...I wanna savor this..." Once he's next to me, I kiss his shoulder and up his neck, nibbling his jaw line and up to his lips where I suck and savor his eager tongue. His hands are on my chest, moving down towards his target and before I know it, he's slowly pumping the throbbing organ. I whimper against his lips as we kiss and he strokes me just hard enough to drive me crazy, but just soft enough to keep me on the edge. "I want you?" I say when we break the kiss. "...I want you, Colin, inside me..." He swallows and traces my brow with his index finger, still stroking me slowly with his free hand and searching my eyes for something. What? I don't know. My hand comes down to still his ministrations. "I mean it." I say, quietly. "I want it." His smile is the slightest I've seen on him, and for a millisecond, I think he might decline. Then he slips out of bed and goes to the bathroom, returning moments later with lube. Excitement makes me tremble when he perches on the bed next to me, then he turns his gaze on me. "You're sure." his voice is neutral, but I sense something behind the words. I can't place it, but... I nod. "Yeah. You want to?" His smile is playful and a bit bashful as he raises his eyebrows. "Can't you tell?" Reaching out, he slowly removes my glasses and places them on the nightstand next to the bed. Then, he leans close and kisses my mouth passionately, letting his fingers bury in my hair. I feel dizzy just from the contact. When he pulls back, his eyes are inquisitive. "I assume you've done this before." Without wanting to divulge too much, I shrug, noncommittally. "What does it matter? I want to with you." He smiles, nodding. "Okay. Fair enough." He nudges my hip until I'm on my stomach and he straddles me, bending to kiss my back and nip lightly at the skin with his teeth. I shiver and clutch at the blankets, closing my eyes. He knows just what to do to push my buttons. Then, moments later, he lands a gentle slap on my ass, and I absolutely adore him for that. Oh God, I need him. "Soon, Col... please..." He chuckles against my back. "I will. I promise." Then, after a brief pause, I feel him initiating a finger inside my tight passage. It is past lubed, and not uncomfortable by any means. Then comes the next and eventually a third, and I find myself pushing back against his probing digits, eager for the real thing. But, Christ, he's so big. I know it'll hurt like Hell at first, but I'm looking forward to that first intense sensation. His other hand is stroking my ass gently; rubbing the globes of flesh as his other fingers slide in and out of me, coming close to making me cry out. "Colin... please... that's so good... need more... please..." And in another moment, I feel him raising my hips so I am on my knees and he is poising himself at my entrance. "Tell me if I'm hurting you, Greg and I'll stop." his voice is so patient even through his passion, and I want him more now than ever. In fact, I *want* him to hurt me. "Do it, Col..." I whisper, urgently. "...do it, now." He slides in, slowly and a flash of white blinds me at first; the pain is immense, but I don't dare let him know or else risk him ceasing. I bite my lip and clench shut my eyes. "Are you okay?" he asks, holding my hip in one hand and resting the other on my ass. I nod. "Yeah..." I manage. "...don't stop, Col. Please..." Then, he slides in another inch or so, and I feel myself going insane with pleasure. He's almost there. Almost at that spot. Another inch or so... HOLY SHIT! That's it... He's there. I'm trembling around him but not coming yet - just overcome with ecstasy. When he begins to thrust, I feel myself getting light headed. Then, his hand reaches around to stroke me with a lubricated palm, and I have to place my hand over his or else I might come - and I am totally not ready for it to end yet. "Deeper..." I whisper. "...Oh, Colin..." I am so awash with emotion; I hear the words before I have the time to stop them. God, where the Hell are those censors when you need them? "I love you, Colin..." The break in his tempo goes almost unnoticed, but somehow, I notice it. A definite break, but it's hard to really concentrate on such things when someone is tapping exquisitely against your prostate and tugging your cock slowly in tandem. Instead of stopping, though, he bends forward and kisses my shoulder and I am coming almost before I even realize that he never says it back. Moments later, he's gasping and trembling inside me, and I am so glad to have him right now - if only for this moment. How big of a sap am I? Someone remind me, again. Several minutes later, we're tangled together in a heap on the bed, and I have my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. I hate ramifications. I hate dealing with the aftermath of stuff. This is why I don't do well in relationships. That and because I'm so obsessive compulsive. "Greg." his voice is deep and serious, and my eyes fly open in alarm. He chuckles and touches my face. "I knew you were faking." I sigh and allow myself to smile. "You got me." He smirks. "Yeah. In more ways than one." I sigh and let him cradle my head in his hands, brushing his thumb against my lips, and I feel a sudden surge of embarrassed guilt and stupidity. "Listen, Col..." I reach for my glasses but make no move to get out of bed. "...I don't want you to think... I mean... people say things..." He nods. "Yes. People do say things..." I shrug, suddenly feeling like a complete idiot. "I told you I love you, Colin. It was stupid. You can just totally strike it from the record because I should have kept my fat mouth closed..." "Greg..." "...Furthermore, I know you were freaked by it...I mean, I'm always putting my foot in my mouth..." "Greg..." "What?" I turn to him, near tears. "Don't apologize for loving me." I don't know if it's the words or the delivery, but tears fall from my eyes as I sit up and rest my hands in my lap. God, I am such a loser. His hand comes out to stroke my back in languid motions, and I feel myself relaxing but still embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Colin." I wipe my eyes beneath my glasses. "I'm so stupid." He's shaking his head. "Don't say that." "I wanted you so badly..." I'm musing now. "...I still want you, but..." "But what?" He asks, quietly. "And please don't say Ryan. I just wouldn't want that to be the reason." Now, I meet his eyes again. "But Colin, there *is* no other reason. Every time I picture a possible future with you - even two weeks in the future - I always picture Ryan lurking someplace in the background. He's like the gatekeeper in my nightmares. The guy I can't get rid of, and there's never any clear cut answer from you on whether or not you're even together." After a brief pause, Colin stands and pulls on a robe. I admit, I hate silences - especially uncomfortable ones, and I suddenly remember Wayne telling me how Colin is the easiest person in the World to talk to. Right. If he could see him right now, he might not stand firm to that theory. "Colin?" I bravely muster as he shoves his hands in his pockets and closes his eyes. "...Colin, say something." He shrugs, glancing at me and keeping his voice level. "I don't know what to say. Everything I do, everything I say is inadvertently related to Ryan. It's all about what me and Ryan are doing, what's going on between me and Ryan. God, if I'd known that relationship was going to follow me around like that and dictate everything I do, I'd have never befriended the guy." Sighing, I get out of bed, going in search of my clothes. "Um. I feel like we're having a communication issue, here." He follows me into the other room. "What is it you want to know?" "Does it even matter, Colin? You're about as close-lipped as Bill Clinton at a press conference." He isn't amused. "Don't make jokes. What is it you wanna know?" I slip my pants back on and my shirt. "Forget it. I made a mistake." "Tell me." He persists, and I turn to meet his dark gaze. "Are you still with him?" The pause is tangible as my mind goes back to the spa when he told me they were on the way out, over, a thing of the past. Could he have misled me? Duh. It's as feasible as any other theory. "No. We're not together. I'm not still with him." I nod, not entirely convinced, but glad to be making progress anyway, thinking of a Bill Clinton phrase along the same lines, 'I did not have relations with that woman.' "Whatever. Goodnight, Colin." He makes no move to stop me, and as I open the door, I am met with green eyes connected to a tanned suspicious face and a long lean body I recognize all too well. "Ryan?" I gasp. His voice is lost as he takes in the scene before him, shaking his head, slowly. "I knew it..." He says in a calm, defeated voice. Part 3 He brushes past me as I stand frozen in my place, unable to breathe. Colin's expression is unreadable as Ryan approaches him, confronting him. Oddly, his voice is soft when he speaks. "I knew it." He repeats. "Colin..." His voice falters, and a pang of guilt rips through my chest. This is my fault. "...Colin, I just knew. Its been coming for a while. I know that... it's... it just hurts..." Then he turns to me, and I swallow. Hard. "But you..." His eyes are deepest green and so passionate, I want to cry. "...You Greg... I thought you were a friend. Why was I so stupid?" I want to tell him that it was a mistake. I want to tell him that Colin lied to me, but... the words are utterly stuck in my throat. I have a feeling it wouldn't matter anyway. "Ryan?" Colin's voice sounds unbelievably steady, and I suddenly have a new contempt for him. Ryan is shaking his head. "No. Both of you, just stay the fuck away from me." He goes to exit, and I turn to Colin who's brown eyes flash brief panic before lowering to the carpet. I shake my head and go through the door, intending to go after Ryan. He's halfway down the Warner Brother's lot as I jog to catch up. "Shit. Ryan. I'm so sorry. He lied... I... he said..." "Doesn't matter!" Ryan barks, never breaking stride, and I glance up and realize it's almost morning. The sky has that strange indigo cast to it, as if expecting something. I'm standing still in the parking lot as Ryan gets into his truck. The last image I see before the blur of him speeding by me is of him wiping his eyes with his sleeve. My goodness, I feel like crap. Two days later, I'm alone in my house with the curtains drawn and the television on the Soap Opera network. Not only does it hurt to sit, but I feel like less than nothing. For two days, I've stayed in bed, buried within a ton of blankets with the air conditioner running and a constant vodka in my hand. It aches to think about what transpired between the three of us, but it hurts even worse to think that I'll have to face them both again sooner or later. At the time, it felt totally worth whatever came. I felt like the victim in the scenario - now, I'm positive that Ryan is the victim, the unsuspecting lover tangled in a web of deceit. How could Colin have lied to me about this? And if he ever cared about Ryan at all, how could he have done something like that? Shit, why am I putting all this off on Colin? I practically begged him to seduce me. The phone rings, and I reach for it without thinking. "Greg Proops." I murmur in a slightly slurred speech. "State your business..." "Greg?" The voice belongs to Drew Carey, and I silently swear. Great going genius, now he's going to want to talk. "Greg, are you okay? You sound totally fucked." I lick my dry lips and roll onto my back. "Hello, Mr. Carey. I'm fine, thanks." He chuckles into the phone, and I close my eyes. This is a nightmare. "Well, I know its sudden, but I wondered if you'd be up for a taping today." My head starts to swim. "Um. Today? Taping? I thought Chip was..." He interrupts. "Chip was called away suddenly. There was some family thing, and we need to fill the spot. We're changing everything around for you - if you want it. The paperwork has already been sent to your agent..." I slump over the side of the bed, thinking I feel my stomach retching on me, then I swallow hard and answer him. "Same time?" I ask, reluctantly. He sounds cheerful but not entirely surprised. "Same Bat station, Greg. We'll be seeing you in about two hours." I nod and hang up the phone. This is going to suck. Two hours later, I find myself dressed in the usual black suit, doped up on Valium and pacing backstage absolutely petrified. When I feel a hand land on my shoulder, I have to suppress a yelp as I turn to see its only Wayne Brady, looking his usual chipper self. "Well. I see you're still tightly wound." He pats my back. "What happened with you the other day?" I shrug. "Nothing much - except don't mind me today, okay. I'm coming off a vodka binge, and I nearly didn't survive it." Wayne's eyes look suddenly really concerned, and I have to turn away from him. "Vodka binge? Damn, last time I did anything like that I was still at UCLA." "I didn't know you went there." I reply sullenly, straightening my tie. He smirks and shrugs. "I didn't." Now, I meet his expression and release a wry chuckle. Leave it to Wayne to brighten my mood. "So." he says, regarding me with curiosity. "I'm just going to take a stab here and assume things *didn't* go alright the other night." I lower my eyes. "What makes you say that?" He snorts. "Because Colin has been overdoing it to the point of pain and Ryan has been acting like a sad Oscar the Grouch. It's not pretty, really." Now, I turn to him, searching his eyes. "Wayne, did you know that Colin and Ryan were still together?" Wayne, shakes his head. "No. I mean, I knew they were once - but that was years ago. According to the rumors, that ended a while back. Of course they're still really close - and Colin is always saying how Ryan has trouble letting go, but..." The wheels in my head start to turn (albeit unsteady and slow on account of the mixture of alcohol and drugs), but still... I'm wondering... "Hey - come by my trailer later - we'll talk." Wayne says, patting my shoulder. "Right now, we better get on stage before Drew and Dan put on their twin monster masks." I nod and follow him, trudging my feet like a kid on the way to the principal's office. I don't know what to believe anymore. If Colin didn't lie to me then what was the deal with Ryan's reaction? And why do I feel like I've committed the crime of the century? Why hasn't Colin tried to talk to me? When I reach the stage, I sink into the dark upholstered chair and sigh, afraid to let my eyes go any further westward than Wayne's chair. Although, I feel I need to see Colin's face. Turning, slowly, inconspicuously, I glance at the Canadian and take in his appearance. I can't help myself, but the old feelings return. The feelings of admiration, lust, attraction, and...love... God. Please don't let that be the case. He's wearing dark, close-fitting Chino's and a long sleeved blue button down. I love it when he wears long sleeves, and I love when his pants are close-fitting. His hair is smooth above the nape of his neck and at his temples (maybe a bit lighter than when last I saw him - like a strawberry blond) and his face is neutral but with a hint of his usual good-natured grin. God, how can he be so even- keeled all the time? And why do I still have a strong urge to jump into his lap? His legs are crossed, like they were in his trailer the last night I saw him, and his hands are in his lap, folded. Just as I'm about to look away, his dark eyes meet mine, and I think I see his lips curl into a slight grin. Oh God. Please, help me. I'm drowning. Drew rattles off his usual introductions and starts to explain the first game which is Weird Newscasters. I go grab two stools (out of habit) and head down to the stage as I am given my weird quirk, which is a Dominatrix that Colin has hired for the evening. Suppressing the sigh, I glance at Drew and try to focus on getting into character. To Colin's left, Ryan is standing, looking pleasantly neutral in his red button-down shirt and black and white flashy tie. I definitely have to give credit where credit is due. These guys are excellent at putting on their game faces. Meanwhile, I think I still might cardiac arrest. The music begins, and Colin gives me a reassuring glance as he slips into character. "Welcome to the six o'clock news; I'm your anchor, Yes Sir, Yes Sir, Three bags full..." The crowd has a laugh along with Drew as I mime smoking a cigarette. Now, I stand and advance on Colin with a raised stool as the studio audience screams with glee. "Get down on your knees!" I shout as he obeys, and I get in close, shouting degrading things at him, getting close enough so the downy soft hair at the top of his head brushes against my nose. The crowd is laughing and applauding as I take in the sweet scent of his shampoo before I continue pretending to beat him with whips. Holy shit. This is difficult. "More! More! Um... ma'am... sir..." He shouts as the audience guffaws, and I come in close again. "Can't make up your mind, eh?" I shout, then pretend to burn him with the end of my cigarette as he moans and pretends to love it. I have to suppress my own groan as he glances at me and smirks. "Hey, I'm trying to cut down?" The audience breaks up with laughter at that, and I shake my head, slowly. "You make me sick!" I shout at him before I turn completely deadpanned. "Now, on to sports." During Wayne's segment, I fold my hands in my lap and watch without really watching. Colin is slowly consuming my thoughts again, and I feel sort of weird about that. There are entirely too many layers to this man. To know him, he seems almost one dimensional, cool, levelheaded, funny, shy, smart. Then, there are the several other aspects no one ever sees - like how he is with his family, what he really thinks about, how he so easily slips into his comedy and seems totally consumed by it to the point that he seldom breaks. His genuine laughter is as rare as me wearing a pair of jeans. It just doesn't happen. Especially when onstage. During Ryan's scene, I turn to watch him and notice that he's kind of trudging through it like a knight going to battle. Oh sure, he's gallant and effective, but he also seems worn down and on edge. His long body slumps a bit, and he seems desperate to finish the scene. Of course the crowd doesn't pick up on this, but I do. I've known him for too long - and I also notice that Colin really doesn't look at him during his segment. In fact, they've had very little interaction up to this point. Later, during a break, I realize I'm starving and go to the craft service table where I stuff a cream cheese Danish down my gullet when I notice a presence beside me. I glance up into green eyes and start to chew, slowly. "That good?" Ryan asks in an even voice, without glancing at me, pouring himself a cup of coffee. I nod. "MmmHmm..." It's difficult to speak with this big fucking donut in my mouth. God, I must look like an imbecile. Stirring creamer into the foam cup, he glances down as he speaks. "I'm letting Bygones be Bygones." When I swallow hurriedly, I feel like a lump of bread is lodged in my esophagus, and reach for a bottle of water to help it down. My eyes are focused on the 6'6" man as I open the cap and pour purified water down my throat. "You said he lied to you." Ryan continues in a soft voice, deep and wounded, but strong. "He didn't lie to you. It's not what you're thinking. You didn't do anything wrong, Greg." Not only am I puzzled, but I'm dumbfounded as well. Words are caught in my throat - but what would I say anyway? What does he mean, 'It's not what I'm thinking'? "Anyway," he adds, patting my shoulder. "Just forget it. Do what you want. I greatly overreacted." Then he pauses. "Unfortunately, we can't all be like Colin. Some of us actually have feelings." I turn and watch as he brushes by me to go back onstage, and my heart feels unsteady. I have so many questions, but who do I ask? What does it all mean? When we are seated back onstage, Drew announces it's time for Greatest Hits. I am truly worried about how the scene will play out, but then it seems as if Ryan has turned off his negative feelings. In fact, he's bantering back and forth with Colin - like they usually do, and before I know it, he's laughing his ass off about Tapioca or something, and I can't help but to be amused also. The entire studio is nearly in tears watching Ryan lose it like that. And I have to admit, it's actually kind of spirit-lifting. Later, when the last credits have been rolled I'm exiting the stage, mildly aware that I am being closely followed by Colin. Soon, we're down a dark corridor, and he reaches for me. "Hey." He says in a breathy whisper, and before I know it, his mouth is on mine. "Mm..." I pull back and laugh nervously. "...Colin... we're... we'll be seen..." His hands are in my hair, and he's pressing against me. "So what?" His mouth is on mine again, and I am only momentarily lost as his tongue seeks out mine. Then, I push him away. "God, did you just totally forget what all happened between us?" It's hard keeping my voice level when I'm so caught up in the whirlwind of emotion. He shakes his head, looking oblivious. "No. I didn't. But I still want you, Greg." His hand is on my chest, and I know he must feel how hard my heart is beating. "Lets get out of here." I mumble as I lead the way, quickly. Once we step inside the confines of my trailer, I find myself relaxing a bit, but I vow not to let my hormones deter me from the task at hand. Pulling out of an especially passionate kiss, I regard him, keeping him at arm's length. "Colin. What's happening, here?" I ask breathlessly. He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know what you mean." I snort a laugh, still holding onto his shirt. "You can't be serious. Maybe you have a different account of what went on two nights ago?" Colin blinks. "Well, my account of that night's events are as follows..." He pauses, leaning back against the door, folding his arms. "...you and I had a revelation, wonderful sex, then things kind of went askew when the subject of Ryan Stiles came up, and... then he showed up." His voice sounds strained. "...and then, you left." I sigh and have a seat on my couch. "Umm... yeah. I left because... I thought maybe we had made a mistake or something." He nods and sits next to me. "Yeah. You thought maybe I had lied to you, but I didn't. I've always been honest with you about me and Stiles. There really is nothing between us." I look at him, searching his face for something - some missing piece. "Then why did he react so badly?" I muse out loud. "He was like Meredith Baxter-Birney in some bad Lifetime movie for television... really irate...." Colin crosses his legs and seems to consider his next statement. "I could tell you why, but it really isn't my place. I'd be betraying a confidence - even though he's ended our friendship. He told me this before he ended it." My curiosity is piqued as I regard him. "What did he tell you?" Colin is shaking his head. "I can't. It wouldn't be right. I'd feel like we were being catty." I snort and stand and start to pace. "You two are enough to drive me insane. I mean, I was already headed to the Looney bin on my own, but now?" "Greg, just let it go." Colin is approaching me, reaching for me. "It doesn't matter anymore." I sigh as Colin touches my face, my hair, removes my glasses. "Don't you care that he ended your friendship?" I ask, quietly. He stops as if considering it. "Yeah. I do. It tears me up inside, but..." he exhales. "...I don't know what to do. I can't keep waiting for his moods to dissipate. He has to grow up." I nod and let myself be pulled into an embrace as his head rests in the crook of my neck. "This doesn't feel right..." I murmur, cradling his head. "...and I want it to." He pulls back to look into my eyes. "I can wait." He says, unbiased. "This doesn't have to be now." I'm chewing my lip as he hands me my glasses, and I watch him move from out of my grasp to exit my trailer. I can't explain the feeling of loss that comes over me, but neither can I explain the sense of need that passes over me in rippling waves. It's roughly an hour later when I'm driving down the turnpike towards west Hollywood when someone flashes me in my rearview mirror. I squint and try to make out who it is when they turn on their brights, temporarily blinding me. I swear out loud and pull over onto the shoulder when the car parks right behind me. Cautious, I lock the door and continue looking into the rearview when I see a pair of legs, then a torso and head. I'm rolling down my power windows when he finally gets to my car. "Greg - Hey; I'm glad I caught you." Ryan's voice is a little frenzied, and I find that I am actually shaking a little at his urgency. I glance up at him, somewhat alarmed. "Um. Ryan, is everything alright?" He nods, then comes around to the passenger side, letting himself in. "I wanted to catch you before you left - but you left so fast." He pauses, sinking down into the bucket seat, a difficult feat for a man of his height. "Then, someone said you were with Colin." I nod, hand resting on the gear-shift. "I was. But not now." He lets out a deep breath and faces forward. "Listen, I don't know what he told you, but..." "He didn't tell me anything." I say immediately, hoping to preserve whatever is still left between them. Ryan nods, slowly. "I know people think I was possessive of him - and maybe they're right." His eyes meet mine. "I did get a little territorial at times - but it was because I loved him. I wanted to keep him for myself - even after he broke it off." I don't speak. I don't even move a muscle. "I know people think I'm an asshole just because I'm one of the execs - but I'm not, Greg." His voice is deep and low, a rumble in his chest. "I have feelings." His knee is inches from my gear-shift hand, and I realize I've never been this close to him outside of a set. It feels oddly exciting - and yet foreboding. "Um. Ryan..." My chuckle sounds nervous to my own ears. "...you don't have to say anything more. There's no need. I won't see Col if you don't want me to." Now, his eyes meet mine, dark slivers in the evening light. "This doesn't have anything to do with Colin. Except..." He pauses, rubbing at his eyes, rubbing away tension. "...except he knew you were off limits." Now I meet his stare. "What?" He pauses, rubbing his eyes again and turning away from me. "He knew how I felt about you... and... he went for you anyway..." I am absolutely astonished. "What?" He sighs, quietly. "I wanted you. I told him I did, and he..." "What..." My voice sounds far away. "...Ryan, what are you saying? I'm..." He glances at me, shrugging as if defeated. "Oh well..." His hand is on the door handle. "...It's my fault for telling him, I guess." I'm shaking my head, slowly, not comprehending. "Ryan, I'm... I can't believe it... I'm..." Now, he jumps out and jogs back to his vehicle as I watch in the rearview mirror, wondering if this really just happened or if I'm dreaming. Then, he starts his truck and merges back into traffic as I get the sudden brilliant idea to follow him. Soon, however, his driving turns erratic and I'm doing my best to keep up as the road seems to get more congested, then he exits off a ramp. I do a three lane change just to stay behind him as my heart begins to pound inside my chest. Ignoring the blaring of horns and curses from other drivers, I swerve in and out, never losing sight of the dark Expedition as he continues on with me in tow. The funny thing is, I feel obligated to follow him, to meet him wherever he ends up. Its my duty to set things right, and I intend to (although I have no clue how). It sucks that I was so against him, so against the idea of Ryan as the good guy. Now, following him is like an obsession - even as he seems to be intent on causing some kind of multiple car pile-up. "Fuck!" I swear to myself as he barely avoids a side-on collision, and when he finally exits onto a deserted road, I exhale relief as he starts to slow down and pulls onto a curb. I pull in behind him and park. We're getting out of our cars at the exact same instant, and I notice his brow furrowed in anger as he stalks toward me, and I go to meet him on unsteady legs. "What the fuck was that!?" He roars. "You almost killed yourself!" "Me?!" I'm indignant. "My God, did you see yourself? What were you trying to accomplish? Besides death, I mean!" Ryan is shaking his head. "You didn't need to follow me. God, why did you follow me?" I shrug, letting my head roll forward in exhaustion. "I don't know, Ryan. I just..." I bite my lip. "...I felt bad. I wanted to say... I mean... I..." His eyes are intense as he waits. "What, Greg? Say it." At a loss for words, I push forward and bring my mouth to his. He's unguarded, his hands up in alarm, but his mouth is responding. I don't know what I had intended to say, nor do I have a clue what it is I intend to do, but kissing him just feels right in this instant. The deep rumble in his chest fuels my desire as I pull him closer, using his tie for leverage. When he pulls back, he's out of breath and his eyes are uncertain. "Greg..." his voice is a whisper as he pulls his tie slowly out of my grasp. "...Follow me." It only takes me a second to comprehend what he's saying, and then I'm in my car, following behind him as he drives. God knows where this little adventure will take us, but it's an adventure nonetheless, and I am bouncing off the walls with anxiety. In twenty minutes or so, we're at some kind of Lake Retreat, and Ryan is pulling in through the gate, motioning for me to follow him. It's surrounded by trees and in the center of the cluster of small cabins, there's a huge crystal lake. The Expedition stops, and I park behind it. He gets out, and I go to where he is. Wordlessly, he takes out a key and goes up the front walk of one, opening the door and gesturing for me to follow him inside. Its warm and dark and smells of pine when I enter, and we stand together in silence in the foyer. Then, he speaks. "I've never brought him here." his voice is unsteady, and I reach out to pat him on the shoulder, intending to reassure him. "Do you have anything to drink?" I ask, stupidly. He reaches for a light, and I see he's smiling, warmly. "Yeah. Sure. Come on." Several minutes have passed, and we're both on our second beers, standing in the kitchen, barefoot, and bantering fraternally back and forth. "I thought you were going to kill yourself." He says, and I shake a finger at him. "Ahh, Mr. Stiles. You've not seen stunt driving until you've seen me in action." I'm chuckling as I think of myself behind the wheel, heart nearly exploding in my chest. "Right!" Ryan says, cheerfully sarcastic. "And then Mr. Stunt Driver here decides to jump out of the car and kiss me." I clear my throat and smirk, ignoring the blush. "Well, that was certainly the best part." His grin is sweet. "I suppose so." The quiet is companionable, and then he trains green eyes on me. "You're nothing like him." I shrug, already positive of who he's referring to. "Yeah. He's..." Ryan interrupts. "Colin is an android. That's what you were going to say, right?" I shake my head, chuckling. "Um. No. But you may be on to something." I regard him, closely, taking in the tanned boyish face, the ruffled curly blondish hair, large fumblesome hands. There's a certain melancholy beneath it all. "He broke your heart." Ryan doesn't answer right away; instead resorts to peeling away the label on his beer bottle, and I feel certain that must be a common quirk. "Yeah." He finally says, softly. "He did." Slowly, I reach toward him to rest a hand on his shoulder. He smiles and turns his glance on me before sitting down his bottle and facing me, full on. "Hi..." I whisper, moving to within inches of him. "Hey..." His hand is reaching for me, pulling me in, and I cant help it - my very first thought is that he's rougher than Colin. His hands are larger, grasping, his mouth is hard against mine, sucking, his tongue driving. Then, his hand is in my hair, scratching, tugging while his free hand is traveling down my chest and unbuttoning my shirt with practiced dexterity. I am already breathless and weary and I haven't even started to really explore him yet. It feels like a journey through mad passion - like some college course in the forbidden city, Fucking 101. His chest is completely hairless, and I wonder absently if he waxes as I travel hands down the smooth tanned plane. I'm letting my fingertips rise and fall against the narrow planes of his ribcage and abs. He sighs and lets me explore him slowly as I wonder briefly what the hell I'm doing. Of course, such a question is futile at such a late hour - and during such a strangely eventful week. When I reach for his fly, he stops my hand, and I search his eyes. "I don't know..." He says, uncertain. "...is this right?" I shrug, hands linked inside his belt loops. "I don't know. It feels right." His slow grin is sexy, and I feel the lightheadedness returning. "Well. If something *feels* right, does that make it right?" Removing my hands, I take a moment to consider his words. "I dunno, Ryan, but we can stop if you want." Shaking his head, he smirks. "Shit, I have a hard-on the size of Florida. Does that sound like I want to stop?" With widening eyes, I lick my lips. "Well, now since you've said that, even if you wanted to stop, I couldn't let you." His laugh is contagious as he takes my hand and leads me into a room with a fireplace and a futon. Pulling off my blazer and shirt, he tosses me onto the bed as I laugh out loud. Now, standing over me, he sheds the rest of his clothing, stripper-style as I feel my erection pressing against my slacks. He's so fucking beautiful, standing above me wearing only a pair of red silk boxers. "Come here, you lanky bastard." I tease as he falls gracefully onto the bed, landing in my arms as we kiss passionately. He tastes so good, so sexy. My hand is curling around his blond waves as he lets his hand travel up and down my chest. "Hey, you're a little sex kitten, Greg." He whispers against my chest, letting his tongue flick out to tease a nipple. "Join the ranks..." He murmurs. "Why, Mr. Stiles..." I whimper, cradling his head as he kisses downward. "...you're going to be the death of me." His lips reach my navel and dip within, driving me momentarily insane. "That was my intent." He murmurs against my belly, and I close my eyes as he opens my slacks and unzips them without preamble. "Ryan..." I gasp as his hand reaches within to find the angry hard-on waiting for him. "...touch me..." He obliges and gives me a hard tug, making me nearly jump out of my skin. "Oohh..." I moan, clenching shut my eyes. "You're a fine specimen..." He murmurs against my belly, stroking my cock. "...very fine." I shudder at the sound of his baritone tickling my skin. "If you don't stop talking, I'm going to explode all over you." Ryan's eyes meet mine, and the minimal light dances on his irises. "Promise?" Reaching for him, I pull him up so we're face to face, and we pause before kissing, studying each other. His fingers dance against my face, lightly as if memorizing me. My hand cradles his face as he looks down at me, a smirk threatening his lips. My other hand is in his hair, marveling in the golden silky curlicues wrapped around my fingers. Pressing his pelvis to mine, he smiles slowly, and I let my eyes drift shut. His cock is hot against me, a steely protrusion and constant reminder of things to come. "Do you have any preferences?" He asks against my chest, kissing it, then working his way over to a nipple and giving it a quick swipe with his tongue. I tremble and shake my head. "Just what you're doing is fine." I manage. "Okay..." He whispers, then I feel him yanking at the waistband of my slacks and I raise my hips to better assist him. "...I'll tell you what I want - and don't say I'm being bossy." I fold my arms behind my head and watch him with a smile on my face. "Okay, boss. Lets hear it." He straddles my hips and bends down to kiss my mouth as my boxer- short clad cock strains up towards him. "I want nothing more than for you to fuck me, Greg - and hard. I want you so bad right now, my nerve endings are on fire." His words cause the blood to flow from my face, from my brain, from every part of me - to pool in one place. I am suddenly as hard as a rock, and I want to be inside him. I *need* to be inside him. Rolling him over, I kneel before him and tug the boxers down his long lean legs as he watches with smoldering eyes and a devilish grin. I am incapable of thought at this point; I only know one thing to be true, and that is my need for him. My hand closes around his long slender cock, and I give it a couple of hard strokes before bending my head to kiss and suck it. He sighs and pushes up towards me, moving his hips in time with my thrusts, driving his hands through my hair. "Uh... Greg... suck it... yeah... so good..." his deep voice is pushing me over the edge as I try to ignore the tent my cock has made in my boxers. Pausing the fellatio just long enough to wet a finger, I enter him while continuing to orally please him. Then, I add another, hoping it will be ample preparation because I can't hold back any longer. In another instant, I'm pulling out my cock and entering him, swiftly as he bites his lip and holds onto my forearms. "Yes..." He whispers, eyes closed, head turned to the side. "...Yes... deeper now, Greg... more..." I follow his lead, pushing further inside, shoving myself in to the hilt before retreating, slowly. A light sheen of perspiration covers his body making him absolutely God-like as I grind my hips against his ass, then pull out again. I'm on the verge already and have to mentally tell myself not to come yet. Shit, it's so hard to listen to that voice. Reaching between us, I grasp and hold him in a fist and start to slowly stroke him, playing with the head. He moans, clenching his jaw, and I realize I won't be able to hold it any longer. Pulling out of him, I bend forward and take him into my mouth again, buying myself more time. "God, Greg... please..." his hand is on my head, forcing me to engulf him. "...Oh, Greg... Christ, so good..." Licking the head of his cock, I suddenly have a vision of him doing this with Colin, and a tremor courses through my body like electric. I swear I could break a brick with my penis right now; it's so hard. Imagining Ryan and Colin in bed together, Colin planting kisses all over this long tanned torso, Ryan running his large hands along that pale porcelain body, the contrast of hard and soft, the contrast of rough and gentle makes me go insane with longing. Holy cow, I'm working myself up! Raising Ryan's leg, I enter him again, using saliva to stroke his throbbing cock with rough palms as I pump into him with renewed vigor. He tosses back his head and gasps, holding firm to the sheet as I ride him rough - just like he wanted until we're both coming and groaning and ruining the linens. Moments later, we've collapsed together onto the bed as his head rests against my shoulder. Our breathing is slowly becoming less like gasps and more like normal as his hand comes up to rest against my chest. Pulling my glasses from my face, I wipe sweat from my eyes. "That was fun." I sigh as he chuckles against me. "Yeah. It was." his voice is totally sated. "A repeat performance might be in order." I laugh and shake my head. "I might need provisions - to build up energy." He nods and raises his head to meet my gaze with a twinkle in his eyes. "Hungry?" I nod. "Maybe a little." Thirty minutes later, we're eating a take-out feast and laughing like sorority sisters. "God, Ryan, this is totally surreal..." I'm chewing pizza crust and considering all that has happened. He's sitting cross legged across from me, wearing a dark robe and eating from a white Chinese box with chopsticks. His hair is mussed and his eyes are downcast as he speaks. "I hope this doesn't sound completely insensitive, but I keep thinking about Colin." I only pause for a second, then shrug my shoulders. "So do I." I watch as his eyes meet mine. "I told him I loved him. Can you believe that?" Ryan's face is open and pleasant as he considers my words. "I can believe it. He's a beautiful person. I'll never stop loving him." He smiles, slightly. "It's hard not to love Colin - even with all his quirks." I laugh to myself. "Yeah. Party Quirks." Ryan snorts. "Yeah. Right." Then his eyes turn serious. "What did we just do, Greg? Did we totally ruin something or did we take something and make it better?" I shrug, having a swig of beer. "I don't know." His eyes are large and sad, almost boyish. "I hope nothing is ruined between us because I really do like you. No matter what happens, I want us to remain on good terms. I would even venture to say, friends." I nod vigorously. "Of course. I totally agree." He has a tentative look on his face. "And you won't be hurt or upset if I start seeing Colin again?" I choke on my crust and start to sputter before reaching for my beer and having a cleansing gulp. "What?" I finally manage, with disbelieving eyes. "You're going to start seeing him again?" He shrugs and tries to look apologetic. "Only if he'll have me. You aren't happy with that, I surmise?" I snort. "Yeah. I guess you could say that. What about that stuff you said - back on the freeway - about liking me? Or was that all just bullshit?" Ryan shrugs, looking childlike and uncertain, quite the opposite of a past-forty year old, executive producer. "I dunno... I mean, I didn't lie about it, but... being with you sort of put things in perspective." He pauses and reaches across the pizza box to grasp my shoulder firmly. "I can't stop thinking about him. I mean it. He's consuming my thoughts." I nod, unsure how to proceed, but fuming nonetheless. "Boy, that's just perfect." "Greg, I'm sorry. I just..." Shaking my head, I stand and rub my eyes, exasperated. "I didn't know what I felt for you at first, Ryan but now I'm almost positive that I hate you. You are undoubtedly Satan." He starts to interrupt, but I raise a hand in admonition. "In fact, you're the worst kind of evil because one never expects it. You come off, at first, as merely a jack-ass, arrogant, edgy, maybe even a little rude, but then it morphs and changes and becomes kind of adorable and I mistakenly fall for that." He looks definitely sheepish when he stands to face me. "Listen, Greg, I didn't mean..." I brush past him and go to gather my clothes, musing to myself. "I don't know why I didn't keep my old therapist. He would have loved this." Ryan is sighing as he follows me. "You knew how I felt about Colin." His voice is pleading. "Don't make this harder." I glare at him, angrily. "Well, maybe you're not the only one with feelings for him. He dumped *you*, remember?" His eyes register hurt as I regret the statement - but only for a brief second. "You don't know anything about me and Colin." His voice is an unsteady whisper as he speaks. I shrug as I pull on my slacks. "Well, maybe I don't know much about you, but I'm learning Colin very quickly. And he's not exactly pushing me away." Ryan's eyes flash hostility, and I am glad for having struck a nerve. "Bullshit. It would be stupid for you to try and capture even a fraction of what I have with him." I snort, buttoning my shirt and pulling on my blazer. "What is that? Some kind of challenge?" He smirks, narrowing his eyes. "No. It's just a fact." Then his voice softens. "Greg, can't we just move on from this?" Slipping into my shoes, I shake my head and fish in my pocket for keys. "No. We can't. I am so tired of being a pawn in this little game. Screw you and your little attachment to Colin! If I want him, then I'll damn well have him. Try and stop me." Ryan's eyes are wide with bewilderment as I move past him to go out the door of the cabin and stalk towards my car, wondering what the hell it is I intend to do next... Part 4 It's a Friday morning, and I'm standing on the front steps of the home of Colin Mochrie. With an errant hand, I smooth back my greasy hair and try my best to straighten my rumpled suit. In the past week, I've let my appearance go somewhat, due to the distraction of recent events. My face feels prickly and unshaven, and my blazer is wrinkled from having been strewn on the floor and slept in. Closing my eyes, I let out a sigh and lean against the door, wondering if I'm making a mistake. After leaving Ryan last night, I'd driven to Venice beach and sat in my car watching the moon against the ocean and trying to block out the slow but steady collapse of my previously decent life. Now, I feel defeated. I know I don't have the right to come here after what transpired between Ryan and I, but Colin left his invitation open. He'd clearly said it could wait. He would wait. So, why won't my hand knock on the door? Why does there seem to be some unseen force between it and the wood. I swallow and lower my fist, slumping and feeling every bit the idiot when the door opens suddenly. Stumbling backward, I realize I'm staring into the face of a pre- adolescent boy. His eyes are large and brown, beneath reddish brown bangs and his face is puzzled but pleasant. He's holding a satchel in one hand and a baseball bat in the other. I realize with instant clarity that this must be Luke. "Hi." He says. "Are you Greg Proops?" I nod, absently, mouth gaping. "Um. Yeah." I muster a nervous smile. "Yeah, I am." He smiles, then. "I've seen you before. You're funny." Then turning his head, he calls into the house. "Dad! Greg Proops is here!" I wonder briefly (in horror) if his wife is here also. Then, I think he'll want to kill me for showing up like this, completely out of the blue. Except when he comes to the threshold, he's smiling and seemingly pleased. "Greg! What a surprise!" He pulls me inside. "You've met Luke?" I nod, without speaking. His son answers for us. "Yeah, dad. I knew who he was." Colin drags me into a large family room and I stand dumbfounded in the center of the room while he speaks with his son. "So, you're going to Jake's house." The boy nods. "Yeah. I'm staying all night - if that's alright." Colin rests a hand on his son's shoulder. "Yeah. That's alright. Just call me to check in and don't do anything I wouldn't do." Luke grins. "Like jump off the roof into the pool?" Col considers this. "Well... actually, I might do something like that..." The boy chuckles and seems to beam with admiration for his father. "Okay. I'm going. Later dad." Colin nods and follows him to the door as I watch. The comedian waves to someone (maybe Jake's dad?) and then closes the door and approaches me. I swallow and meet his eyes. "Sorry for showing up like this, Colin. I didn't know where else to go." He nods. "Don't apologize. I'm glad you're here." He rests a hand against my cheek. I smile and lean in to the touch. "Are you alone?" I wonder out loud, and he nods. "Yeah. I am." Without waiting, I lean in close and kiss his lips, gently. He returns it gingerly, then pulls away. "Not here." he whispers, pulling me into another room. Off the kitchen is a large studio room with high ceilings and lots of morning sun streaming in through a sky-light and patio doors. He closes us in and comes to me. "So," He says, standing inches from me and shoving his hands into his pockets. " Have you made a decision, one way or the other?" Approaching him, I wrap my arms around him and kiss him deeply, shoving my tongue into his mouth. When he pulls away, he's grinning. "I take that as a yes." I nod, slowly. "I want to be with you, Colin. I've wanted you for a while." His hand is cupping my cheek. "What happened with you and Ryan?" Shaking my head, I pull him to me. "I don't want to talk about that." His eyes are deep brown and pensive. He wants to know, but I'm not ready to tell him. "Nothing happened." I lie against the collar of his shirt, taking in the sweet strong scent of him, clean and manly. His chuckle is soft as he blushes and lets his hand slide through the dark waves of my hair. "Greg, you wouldn't lie to me would you?" His voice is playful but with an edge. I have a feeling he already spoke to Ryan. God, why is he so persistent? I sigh and rest my forehead on his shoulder, holding him by the shirt- sleeve. "What did he say?" Colin shrugs, pulls back to meet my eyes. "He just said you guys spoke." He says, casually. "Then, he said that you fucked him." Clearing my throat, I stumble back a few paces aghast. "Colin?" I breathe, suddenly feeling exposed. "...Colin, it wasn't... I didn't intend to. I just..." "It's okay, Greg. Really." He turns to go stand near the window. "Ryan would do anything to get his way. I set my sights on you, and then he suddenly became obsessed with you. I'd call it a coincidence, but I know him better than that." I nod, slowly. "I swear, it wasn't planned. It just happened." He doesn't reply to that but rather segues into something new altogether. "When I first broke it off with him, he cried. I held him long into the night, and still, he didn't want to leave." His sleepy dark orbs meet mine. "Finally, I had to kick him out, and he wasn't happy about that." I don't speak, just listen so he continues. "It was a decision I made because we'd both gotten too caught up in this 'romance' people see when we're together. It was a thousand times worse than what people think - we were inseparable to the point of neglecting our families. I'd not bothered to go back to Toronto, and Ryan hadn't spoken to his kids in two months... we'd just... gotten caught up." He turns away again. "But imagine a romance like that, Greg. Imagine you have someone near you, working with you, in your bed, in your life with whom you have everything. What we have is almost psychic - he completes my thoughts, he appreciates me, he adores me, he knows what I need, and he gives it... he fits with me so well, it's almost scary. When we're together, it eclipses everything - and everyone else. I did it for our families. I did it for the children." I feel my head starting to swim. "What are you saying?" I ask feebly. He snorts. "That was in that past, Greg. We needed a break, and Ryan couldn't see that. We needed a break." His eyes meet mine again. "He's trying to ruin a possible relationship between us, but that's fine. It won't happen. I can't let him get to me." I approach him and stand close, unsure of where I fit into it all until he wraps his arms around me. "Greg?" He whispers into my hair. I nod. "Yeah?" "You need a shower." I clear my throat and feel my cheeks burning. "Right. Yeah. I know." His chuckle is sweet and still, he makes no move to disentangle himself. "This feels so good." He finally murmurs as I bury my face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling lightly. "I'm finally getting past him as well." Days later, we're taping again, and I feel like a new man. My suit is impeccable (a three piece silk) and my hair is properly poofed and groomed. My hands have been manicured, and my body feels rested. Beside me Wayne is beaming and giving me a thumbs up as if he knows all that transpired in the past two weeks, and to his left, Colin wears his usual pleasant expression with his hands folded in his lap. The only person not with the program is Ryan. In spite of his instability and insensitivity (my personal perception, anyway) I feel bad for the guy. He looks like he hasn't slept in days, and I have a vague sense of obligation (even as I feel that revenge is in order). Sighing contentedly, I focus on Drew Carey (who always seems chipper no matter what) and go with the flow as the cameras begin rolling and the show progresses onward. Everything goes fine, the jokes work well, and the censors aren't pissed with us by the time evening comes to a close, and we have a day load of work done. Everyone seems in good spirits, and I glance at Ryan who is speaking offstage with the duo of Dan Patterson and Drew Carey. Seizing the opportunity, I go off to where Colin stands at the craft service table, stirring sugar into a cup of tea. "Hi." I say as he glances up and grins. "Hi." It's a secret between us - that we have a fledgling relationship, and I feel kind of tawdry - knowing that I've been with him intimately and no one knows. "What's up?" I shrug, leaning in closer but keeping my distance in the public setting. "Nothing yet... but I'm hoping..." Colin chuckles as he raises the cup to take a sip, and just then, Ryan comes by, taking in the scene. "Oh. That's rich." He says in a deep, angry voice. "That's perfect. What do you call this?" Colin turns to him. "Don't." He says in a soft foreboding voice. His green eyes become glassy as he glances from me to Colin. "I need to speak with you." Colin shakes his head. "No. We've had plenty of time for that." The taller man narrows his eyes. "Tell me what this is." I step forward, between Colin and Ryan. "I'll tell you what it is, Mr. Stiles. It's a missed opportunity - for you." Ryan shakes his head, slowly. "Colin, I need to speak with you." The Canadian exhales, slowly. "If we talk, then I want Greg present." The executive shakes his head, looking angry. "Fine. Whatever." "Okay, then. My place. Thirty minutes." Colin turns and tugs me by the sleeve as we leave a fuming Ryan behind. I told him I had a chance, and he didn't believe me. The sick pleasure is all mine. Ten minutes later, the moon is looming above us, and we're riding together down Santa Monica Boulevard, and Colin is so focused on the road, gripping the steering wheel with such white knuckles that I have to place a comforting hand on his thigh. When he turns to glance at me, I raise my eyebrows in question. "Oh. Sorry... I..." He pauses. "...I guess I'm a little anxious." I nod. "I'd say." Smirking, I add. "Relax. " He nods and lets his hands rest more comfortably. "I told him thirty minutes. Do you think he'll show up?" I shrug. "I don't know. He seemed intent to speak with you." Colin glances out at the road. "I don't want this to go badly - that's why I needed you with me. I told you how it was for us. He might do something..." His eyes meet mine briefly. "...he might try something." Suddenly, I feel inadequate. What does he mean 'do something?' What could Ryan do that would render Colin powerless against him? Instantaneously, the thought brings about a certain warmth low in my belly. The thought of Colin and Ryan together always had that effect on me. We drive in silence for another couple of miles until we reach Colin's house, and we get out and go inside. "Want a drink?" He asks, going through the foyer and into the kitchen. I nod. "Okay. Something stronger than beer?" His smile is slight. "I'll have to go to the cellar for that. Be right back." As he disappears down into the basement, I start to pace until I hear the distinct chime of the doorbell. Glancing down towards the stairs, I pause briefly before going to get the door. Ryan stands in the threshold, looking distraught but manages a cordial demeanor. "Hey, Greg." I nod and move to let him pass. "Hi, Ryan." Once I close the door, he stands and regards me. "Look, this is stupid." He says. "I'm sorry - about all of this. I don't even know where you fit into it." I shrug. "Me neither. I guess I'm just along for the ride, now." He nods, and then his eyes focus on someone behind me, and I turn to see Colin holding a bottle of Merlot. "Hi." He says, standing several feet away. Ryan nods, eyes large and glassy. "Hi." He gestures at the bottle. "That an 1800?" Colin clears his throat and nods, slowly. "Your favorite." Slowly, they trudge towards one another, and I feel as if I'm watching a very pivotal moment in my favorite soap opera. The tangled life of Greg Proops. "Colin?" He whispers as the Canadian cradles his head with one hand. I back slowly into a wall and watch, quietly. Their love and attraction is so strong for one another that it's seeping from the woodwork, overwhelming everything. Ryan takes the bottle from his hand and wraps both his arms around the other man. Finally, stepping out of the embrace, Colin takes back the bottle and moves towards the kitchen. "Like a drink?" He asks no one in general, and we both nod and follow. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Colin finally asks, several minutes later when we're sipping wine in the kitchen. Ryan glances at me, then speaks. "I wanted you to know that I still care about you." Colin nods, slowly gesturing towards me. "Greg and I have been... attempting..." "You can't even say it." Ryan brings his glass to his lips. Colin raises his eyebrows in dismay. "Maybe I should have brought out the scotch instead." I nod, clearing my throat. "I agree." Ryan pours his entire glass down his throat, then holds it towards Colin. "Oh, by the way, did you forget that Greg and I had sex last night?" Pouring Ryan another glass of wine, Colin nods coolly. "No. I didn't forget." "Did he mention that it was fantastic?" Ryan asks, downing the second glass, much to Colin's chagrin. The Canadian pauses before responding. "What are you after, Ryan?" The taller man shrugs. "Just informing you. " "I've been properly informed, thanks." "Maybe, I should go." I say, suddenly feeling like a catalyst for disaster. "No." Colin places a hand on mine. "I want you here." Ryan snorts. "Well, Colin, if you have what you need, then you don't need me here." Colin shakes his head, slowly. "I want you here - and I want him here. I need to get past you to move on - and you need to do the same." "Don't tell me what I need to do, Col." I notice how he reverts to using a nickname even when heated. "You do what you need to do. It's always about what you want, anyway." "Ryan..." Colin approaches the taller man. "...I was wrong to end it with you the way I did. I should have given it more time. You have every right to be hostile." Ryan doesn't respond. Colin touches his chest, brings his hand slowly up to his face, caresses the cheek. Ryan closes his eyes. "Colin, don't..." The older man keeps his serious expression. "Why not? What are you afraid of?" Ryan releases an uneven breath. "I'm afraid I won't be able to stop." The words have an effect on me, so I know they have an effect on Colin. Reluctantly, (it seems) he steps back a bit and goes into the cupboard for Scotch. I suddenly wonder if it's his intent to get us both drunk - or if he's using alcohol for leverage over Ryan. When he pours the amber liquid into glasses, Ryan doesn't even pause before downing it. "Am I going to have to cut you off?" The Canadian asks the executive. "I'm hoping I don't remember this in the morning." Ryan murmurs in reply, wiping his mouth before approaching Colin from behind and letting his head rest in the crook of his neck. "Ryan..." Colin begins in protest, but the taller man doesn't let up. His hands go around the smaller man's waist and he slides his palms up and down as Colin has some internal conflict and sips his own Scotch, making eye contact with me. Deciding to down my own drink, I wince before reaching for the bottle. We're all going to be completely pissed in the morning, but maybe not too fucked to remember. I've never been so drunk. Already my eyes are crossing. When I look to Colin and Ryan again, I notice Colin's shirt is un- tucked, and Ryan has his large hands beneath, touching undoubtedly soft skin. I suppress the surge of envy, then feel a hand reach for me. It's Colin, pulling me towards him, pushing the blazer off my shoulders. Oh my goodness. This is leading down a dangerous road, but somehow familiar - since I've been with both of these men in a separate capacity. Now, they're both here, and my erection is strong and pulsing - like a honing missile. The ramifications from this won't be good; I know it. But who has time to think of such things when strong hands are traveling the expanse of your chest, leaving pulse points of fire in their wake. My eyes close, and when they open, I have the privilege of seeing something so rare and so beautiful, it nearly makes tears jump into my eyes. I should be angry - in fact, it should make me want to storm out of here, but it doesn't because it feels like the most natural thing in the world. Colin's head is turned to the side as Ryan kisses him with gentle lips, using his tongue to tease the other man, slide against his lips, moaning and caressing. A tremor courses through my body as Ryan turns Colin to face him and pins the shorter man's wrists behind him, pushing him against the kitchen counter and claiming his mouth with a newfound ferocity. Colin's gasp is trapped between their questing mouths, and Ryan is pushing himself hard against the other man. Watching them is intoxicating; seeing their romance happen right before my very eyes is dizzying. God, they're like dancers, flowing together, movements mirrored and responded to. Colin has his head thrown back as Ryan is biting and sucking at the soft skin of his neck, still pinning down his hands. "Ryan..." Colin's voice is weak, a breathy whisper. "...Ryan, don't... stop, now... we can't..." Ryan seems not to hear or doesn't want to. His mouth is traveling the length of the other man's neck, down his Adam's apple. His large hand is ripping apart the shirt, bending his head to kiss and lick down the lightly hairy chest. "Ryan... hold... mmm, Ryan...." Colin's voice is a whisper, and a blush covers his head as he is devoured right before my eyes. Then, Colin's hand is free and he pushes Ryan away, breathing heavily and trying to drop his eyes from that intense gaze. Ryan reaches for the bottle of scotch and pours more into his own glass, watching Colin with prowling eyes. "I'm not sorry I did that." Ryan's statement is strong, dangerous. It makes me tremble. "Okay." Colin, clears his throat, having another gulp of his drink. Then, his eyes meet mine, and I take a drink also. Its like a game, and I feel myself earning points as Colin approaches me, unbuckling my belt without preamble. My eyes drift to where Ryan stands, face red with passion, eyes narrow and predatory. In seconds, Colin's hand is inside my slacks and wrapped around my stiff cock. It trembles in his warm palm as he begins to stroke it slowly. "I'm so glad you're here Greg." He whispers, and I nod, unable to speak. It feels so good, even un-lubricated, I think I might come just thinking of all that has happened. "You liked seeing that didn't you. You liked watching us." "Colin..." I murmur, and he gets to his knees and drops my pants around my ankles, and I am within the warm wetness of his mouth within seconds. My eyes drift closed, and I bite my lip as his head bobs back and forth, slowly. "...Oh, God, Colin... Oh, Oh, yeah..." I am only faintly aware of Ryan standing nearby, holding his glass of scotch, licking his lips. I have to place a hand on Colin's shoulder or he'll take me to the brink and over. "You're so good at that..." I hear Ryan murmur somewhere in the back of my head. "...you're going to make him come like that..." Reaching for Colin, I pull him up and kiss his mouth, ignoring my hard-on, wet with his saliva. His tongue tastes so good, like himself - and like Ryan. I'm dizzy with need, but staking my claim. Colin is with me now, and my arms wrap around him as if proving a point. His arms are around me as well, and his pelvis is against mine as I sigh and plant a kiss on his neck, then bite at it, lightly. This poor man will be covered with marks by morning. I would even venture to say, he'd need to wear a turtle neck to the next taping. One hand travels the expanse of his chest and my fingertips lightly toy with a nipple. His voice is a strangled growl as he brings his face in close again, letting me kiss him deeply. Our tongues twine and dance as his hand finds my erection again and starts to pump it slowly. "Colin?" I murmur against his mouth, and then he is pulled away from me. Ryan has him and is staring into his eyes. "What is this?" His speech is slurred, and I know he's beyond tipsy. Colin touches his cheek, and Ryan takes one of his fingers and suckles it as the older man lets his eyes close. "What do you mean?" Col asks, in a weak voice. "You want to be with me. Don't deny it." Ryan snatches the rest of his shirt off of his shoulders and bends his head to take a nipple between his teeth. Colin whimpers and grasps Ryan's head, his fingers getting lost in the forest of blond waves. "What are we doing?" He asks, alternately licking and sucking each nipple as Colin lets his head fall back. "Mm... I don't... mmm... Ryan..." "I'm in love with you..." Ryan murmurs, grasping him tightly. "I love you..." Colin nods, hanging onto the counter for leverage. "I know, Ryan. And I love you too, but..." "No!" Ryan interrupts. "Fuck that! I *love* you." His lips meet Colin's and their mouths mesh together, fit together so perfectly, I wonder if they were built to do that. "Colin..." His lips graze against his chin, neck and ear. "...Colin..." The older man is shaking his head, slowly. "Ryan... don't..." He ignores the light protest, sliding the dark fabric of his slacks down his legs before kneeling before him. "You want me to touch that beautiful cock?" His baritone is playful. "Ask me, nicely." Colin rests a hand against his shoulder. "Ryan..." he murmurs and in moments, he's deep down Ryan's throat. I'm watching and unable to resist touching myself as I watch Ryan take Colin like a starving man on the desert. He's suckling him and toying with him and licking him, and Colin is biting his lip nearly unable to stand upright; his eyes are closed, and I come closer and let my hand graze the dark silky hair on his chest. He turns slowly towards me and moans my name, bringing his mouth to mine and causing my erection to jerk, slightly. Several minutes later, we're in Colin's bed, a tangle of arms and legs. I am distinctly kissing Colin - but every so often, Ryan takes him from me, claiming his mouth with his own. My hand is sliding against the soft hair of Colin's chest, and on the other side of him, Ryan has a large hand wrapped around his penis, stroking it roughly. We're a writhing trio of uncaring fools when my mind begins to wander... What does this mean for me and Colin? What does it mean for Colin and Ryan? After tonight, will I go back to just being my own entity and Col and Ry back to being the inseparable Whose Line duo they were meant to be? But maybe I don't want that. Is sex so important that I can't focus long enough to have a meaningful relationship with anyone? After all, that's how I ended up separated from my wife. Sleeping around on her with rented transvestites and not bothering to deny it. Yeah, I definitely prefer men - in fact, I would even venture to say that I adore men. I can't stop fantasizing about them. The attraction to Colin was a long time coming, and even Ryan has been known to have an effect on me - with his long slender body and his deep voice and rough hands... Mmm... I've had fantasies about almost every man I've ever known - even Clive Anderson, (not to mention the incident between me and Steven Frost in a tawdry London hotel), but here I am - having the biggest fantasy of my life being played out right before my very eyes - a three way with Colin and Ryan. My eyes drift shut as I feel Colin's familiar hand wrap around my cock and start to slide along its shaft. "Are you still with me?" Colin asks, inches from my face as his hand toys with the head. I nod, absently before crashing my mouth to his. When I pull back, Colin smiles at me, and I reach for him again. "Stiles has a request." His voice is against my ear and I turn to see the executive hovering nearby with an intense expression on his face. When I let my eyes drift down to where he holds his long penis in his hand, I already know what he wants without asking. "Yes..." I hear myself say, with a grin on my face. "...whatever it is, yes. Do it." Moments later, I'm on my back and Ryan Stiles is against me, driving inside me as I clench shut my eyes. God, it feels so fucking wonderful. Especially with the added pleasure of Colin's gentle lubricated hand sliding up and down on my cock. Believe me, it doesn't take long before I'm coming and it takes even less time for me to realize I have no regrets. No matter what happens, I can deal with it. When morning finally arrives, I wake with a start. It takes only a second for me to remember where I am, and I glance down at the men lying in bed with me. Colin's head rests against my chest and behind him, Ryan has an arm draped over the sleeping form of the Canadian. Colin was right. They fit together too well. It *is* kind of scary. Even scarier to think I could be disrupting that. Slowly, disentangling myself, I start to collect my things and dress as quietly as possible when I glance up and see Colin, pulling on a robe and approaching me. "You weren't leaving, I hope." He says softly, and I smile at his appearance. The light colored hair at his temples and at the back of his head is mussed and standing up slightly. He looks so adorable and so refreshed. He looks even better in the black monogrammed robe. It makes his skin look so pale - like pearl. I smile at him and touch his face. "I figured I better leave." I say, clearing my throat. "You two have a lot to work out, still." Colin shakes his head, slowly. "I don't know. We both want you.. and yet we both still want each other." I nod, glad the words don't send me into a tailspin of despair. "I kinda figured that." He touches my cheek. "I'm not giving up on this. Ryan and I are kind of joined at the hip..." He pauses, letting both his hands rest on my shoulders. "...that doesn't mean there's no room for you." I chuckle and let myself be pulled in for a chaste kiss. "Right. I don't know. I could definitely party with you guys, but..." I shrug. "...I'm fragile. Eventually, I'd get hurt. I just know how I am. It's a miracle I'm not in a fetal position right now, rocking slowly back and forth and reciting phrases from the Torah..." Colin laughs at this. "You're such a neurotic." I nod, slipping into my shoes. "I know. I'm trying to get better." The Canadian meets my eyes, and for the briefest instant, I think I see something deeper than that casual good nature. For the briefest fraction of an instant, I think I see love - or at least something close to it reflected in those warm cocoa eyes. He genuinely cares for me, I think, and that feeling warms me to the bone. I let myself be pulled into his embrace, and I marvel at the feel of his arms around me, strong and wonderful. "Come back to bed." He whispers against my neck, and for a moment I feel faint. It sucks trying to struggle against the grain - especially when its something I want. "I know you're debating it in your head, but don't..." He pauses, exhaling against my ear and sending shivers up my spine. "...just for today, don't think about it." I only consider his words for about two seconds, and then moments later, I'm snuggling with him beneath the blankets with Ryan's long leg thrown over my lower half for good measure, sealing the deal. Colin has a point. Just for today, I won't think. I'll just write it off as another imperfect (but still kinda nice) scenario in the quilted folds of my life. FIN