This one's for Clay. It begs a sequel. Maybe she'll write it. Or maybe I will. Who knows? It'll have angrysex in it, that's for sure! *g* TITLE: The Chair AUTHOR: Makingamochrie MOOD SETTING: clayangel PAIRING: Colin/Greg RATING: NC-17 for smut SUMMARY: PWP. Totally. The recliner was maroon, and plush, and had little bits of gold thread sprinkled throughout, and Greg knew that by morning, he’d have the imprint of the fabric imbedded into the skin all up and down the back of him, and he didn’t mind one little bit. He looked up into the flushed, sweating face of the man above him, noting in idle wonder how the golden bars of the streetlamps below filtering in through the blinds played across his skin, highlighting the beads of sweat and turning them momentarily into flickering diamonds. It was Colin above him, one knee carefully placed on each of the low, wide arms of the recliner, and he was riding Greg like a pony newly broken to the bit, grunting softly as he thrust himself down over, and over, and over again. His shirt was on, but completely unbuttoned, and showed tantalizing glimpses of pale flesh with each and every movement. Caught up in the moment, Greg thought the sight was even more erotic than if Colin had been totally bare before him. Greg’s hands were resting on Colin’s sweat-slick thighs, reveling in the play of muscle as his lover moved, bulging and relaxing with every hard thrust. Colin’s hands were splayed across Greg’s naked chest, fingertips resting on his collarbone while the palms covered and scraped against his sensitive nipples, adding to the incredible fire Colin was stoking inside him. God, but he was tight, and hot, and so perfectly attuned to him that he was holding him on the edge without even seeming to try. Colin groaned as he leaned forward, changing the angle of Greg’s penetration and feeling the pleasure spike high and hard. His cock, covered mostly by the long tail of his shirt, quivered and jumped. “Shh,” Greg hissed. “He’ll hear us.” “No he won’t,” Colin assured him in a voice that seemed incredibly composed for what he was currently doing. “With as much scotch as…you poured…damn!...down his throat, a…oh, that’s nice…bomb could go off and he wouldn’t…notice.” “A bomb’s gonna go off real soon, man, if you don’t slow down,” Greg warned. “Can’t,” Colin gasped, leaning forward still more as he added a little hip twist to his motions that left Greg seeing fireworks. “Aww, fuck,” Greg replied, grabbing for Colin, only to have his hand batted away. “No, you first. Want to…watch.” “Kinky!” “Like…doing it in a…chair…God!...in front of Ryan…isn’t?” “Point,” Greg agreed, and that was his last coherent word as his hand dropped back down on Colin’s thigh and he began to pump his previously still hips, meeting Colin midway, thrust for thrust. Strong fingers came down on his nipples and twisted, and he hissed through his bared teeth, feeling the searing heat gathering in his balls that meant only one thing. “I’m—” His ecstatic shout was smothered by Colin’s mouth and he felt himself let go deep into Colin’s body with the force of that bomb he’d joked about just moments before. Ryan being there, even asleep, certainly didn’t hurt matters any either. Man, did he love his kink! When he was finally empty, he let the soft cushions of the recliner envelop him, sated, relaxed, and pretty fucking happy to boot. The feel of Colin’s weight pressed against him, and the musky, masculine smell of him combined to put a tired grin on his face. Colin’s weight shifted a little as he drew a hand down between them to tend to his own raging erection. This time, it was Greg’s turn to bat Colin’s hand away. “No, man, let me.” “Can’t wait,” Colin ground out. “Sure you can. Just….” Greg made excellent use of the small space between them and pushed on Colin’s chest, urging the taller man to slide away from him. “Greg….” “Hush, Col. Let me take care of things.” Easing Colin completely away, he stole a glance to the bed, not more than three feet away. Ryan still seemed asleep, if his light snoring was any indication, but now he had turned his head so that he was facing them. A thrill shot through Greg’s body, and if it had been within him to get hard again, he would have at the thought of it alone. With Colin more or less on his feet, though bent over as if in terrible pain, Greg slid down the recliner, then turned so that his chest was pressed flat against the seat cushion. His knees wide apart and braced firmly on the nappy carpet—oh, he was going to have burns there for sure—his ass waggled invitingly. “Come to Daddy!” “…lube…?” Greg looked, but couldn’t find it anywhere. Probably fell in between the damn cushions while Colin was having his ride. Oh well. “Spit will work fine, man. Just fuck me already, will ya?” A soft ‘oh god’ sounded behind him, and then Colin’s hand was on his hip, and then that big cock was sunk inside him to the hilt. And oh, did that feel fucking fantastic. Let Chip and the others have their pretty boy-toys with their slender dicks and even more slender brains. He’d take a man any day of the week. Especially a well-hung one. “Oh yeah,” he groaned. “Work it, Colin. Work it.” The side of his face and his chest and belly slid along the fabric of the chair as Colin moved in and out of him with desperate speed. He wished he could see over the arm, which was low, but not that low, unfortunately, just to see Ryan’s face as Colin fucked him. That didn’t mean they couldn’t plan better next time. And there would be a next time. He’d make sure of it. “Oh, Christ,” Colin whined, high in his throat, and with another couple of strokes, he was totally done for, popping off like a geyser and biting on the inside of his cheeks hard enough to draw blood to keep the scream inside. Then he collapsed over Greg’s back, driving the smaller man deep into the cushion for just a moment as he struggled to get his bearings. Then he was up on his knees again, pulling Greg with him and cradling him against his still heaving chest. “Sorry about that,” he whispered before bending his head to mouth the skin on Greg’s neck and shoulder, causing a shiver to run through the smaller man. Greg shrugged it off in his typical style. “You had an excuse.” He allowed himself to enjoy the comfort of Colin’s warm embrace for just a moment more before nudging him. He’d been tired, but that screw had energized him, and now it was running through his body, refusing to be contained. “C’mon, man. The night is still young. Let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into, huh?” “I don’t know….” Colin trailed off doubtfully, eyeing the bed. Ryan’s head had turned away. “C’mon, Col! You only live once, right?” “At this rate, you’re going to end mine prematurely.” Greg made sure to keep his laughter soft. “If so, I guarantee you’ll go with a smile on your face.” Colin snorted softly and somehow managed to struggle to his feet, pulling Greg up with him. “So, are we on?” “Yeah. Just let me find the rest of my clothes.” They dressed quickly and sloppily, often as not holding onto one another for support. When they were done, they both gave one last look at the bed, grinned at one another, and then went to the door and slipped out, ready to take on what was left of the evening. As soon as the door snicked closed, green eyes popped open and Ryan rolled onto his back. His face could have been carved into the side of a mountain for all the emotion it showed. His eyes, however, more than made up for that, flashing rage that threatened to leave scorch marks in the innocuous white ceiling above him. Someone was going to pay, and they were going to pay hard. Slowly, reluctantly, a long, slender arm stole beneath the covers and began to pump. FIN.