Title: Want, Take, Have Pairing: Greg/Colin Rating: R Summary: In denial and looking to put the past behind them, Greg and Colin try to move on together. A/N: This is a work of fiction. No harm is intended. Title courtesy of Faith on Buffy. About 2000 words. Colin wakes up to a pounding, and it takes him a moment to realize it's coming from his door. He tries to ignore it, but when it continues for what seems like an hour, he reluctantly gets up and gropes for his shirt. It better be important. Like the hotel's on fire. Or he just won an Emmy. Neither seems too likely. He opens the door, blinks into the harsh light of the hallway. Focuses on Greg. "Oh, good, I thought you were asleep." "I was asleep." If the darkness of his room wasn't enough, he would've thought that the fact that he was standing there in only his boxers and an inside-out, backwards t-shirt would have clued in Greg that he isn't looking for company. Greg, however, is looking far too chipper. "Can I come in? I brought beer." He shakes the six-pack of Corona in his hand slightly so the bottles make soft chinking sounds. "Greg its..." he glances back at the digital display by the bed. "Four twenty-three am." The response is a shake of the head. "I'm still on West Coast time; it's only one." They're in Atlantic City for the weekend doing a couple of shows. Colin knows Greg's not much for sleep, even without the time difference. But he would have thought a casino would have plenty to keep him busy. "One twenty-three then," he says, and tries to close the door. Greg pushes it back open. "Whatever, Grandpa. Come on, I'm wired. Be my entertainment." "Go bother Brad." But Greg's not listening. He pushes into Colin's room, flicks on the light, puts the beer on the coffee table, and flops unceremoniously onto the only chair in the room. Colin sighs and follows Greg back into the room. He heads for the dresser. After the sound of bottle opener against bottle caps, Greg asks, "What are you doing?" He doesn't turn around. "Looking for some pants -- if I'm forced into having company I should put clothes on." "Or I could take mine off." Colin turns around to glare, and Greg waggles his eyebrows at him. "Asshole." That earns him a sly smile. "You know it." Colin perches on the edge of the bed and flips on the television. There's not much on at this hour; the settle on an infomercial about a miracle stepladder or something. Yours for only $49.99. Act now for a free tool kit. "This is fucking boring." "You're not wrong." The stepladder show is over, and now it's one about foot cream. Colin turns of the TV. "So what's Ryan like in bed?" It comes out of nowhere. But Colin has grown to expect random, personal questions from Greg. Nosy bastard. He shoots Greg a look like he's crazy. "I wouldn't know." Greg doesn't relent. "Come on, man, you can tell me." "I would expect this from fans, but really, I thought you knew better, Greg." Apparently this isn't convincing. "Please. I've known you two for what? Like fifteen years? When you're together you're practically attached at the hip. It's like you've got some kind of weird mind-meld thing going on. It's downright freaky." Colin has to give him something or the questioning will never end. "I love Ryan, but no. Not like that." "In all the time you've know each other, you never even thought about it?" "No," Colin says. Though that might not be the complete truth. When the whole world thinks you're lovers, it's hard not to have the thought cross your mind on occassion. Neither of them ever brought it up, outside the innuendo on stage, but sometimes when Colin can't sleep he runs though endless scenarios of how that conversation might go. Never one to give up easily, Greg tries one more time. "Are you honestly telling me that you and Ryan never fucked?" "It is possible to love someone and not want to sleep with them." "You're such a girl." At one time, a comment like that might have bothered him. After years of playing the woman, however, Colin's used to it. "You're such a whore." Greg leans forward in his chair. He's enjoying this; Greg likes it when you make him work. "I don't come cheap." "Must be why you slept with Drew, he could afford your price," Colin says, and he has to smile because he's caught Greg off guard -- the man is actually somewhat flustered. "I never slept with Dr--" but Colin doesn't let him finish. Getting the best of Greg is a rare thing and he's going to take advantage of it. "I know, but you wanted to. A sort of 'compare-the-hosts' experiment." At that, Greg flushes red. It's an odd sight; Colin's sure he's never seen him blush before. Maybe he's taken things too far. "Wait, you and Clive actually?" Greg tries for cocky, "All the time." But before Colin has a chance to react, he amends. "Once." They sit in silence for a while and then Greg reaches forward for his beer, long forgotten. Colin just waits. He's good at waiting. Finally, Greg says, "I think we liked talking about it more than actually doing it." Now it's Colin's turn to be unconvinced. It must show on his face, because Greg shifts uncomfortably and continues. "It was sort of a goodbye anyway. The last season -- the one here -- after my second to last taping." He takes a swallow from the bottle. Colin watches him grimace at how warm and flat the beer's gotten. "That last taping was fucking awkward." "Yeah, well, Ryan and I skipped the awkward by never acting on it in the first place." Shit. Colin decides to blame the slip on his overtiredness. Admitting he had feelings for Ryan is the last thing Colin wants to do in front of anyone. "I knew that 'you can love someone and not want to fuck them' story was just bull." Colin's feeling like Greg must think he's a love sick puppy who's chasing after someone who doesn't retun the feeling. Greg reads that fear perfectly and tries to allay it. "Look, I'm pretty sure Ryan feels the same way. Just like I'm pretty sure he'd deny the hell out of it, too." Colin almost lets himself hope, but he's lived with this thing too long. "Doesn't matter anyway. It'll never happen. We've grown apart." "Fuck that. You still give each other googley eyes when you see each other. If you love him, you should let him know. Otherwise you're just wasting you life." He doesn't need a lecture from Greg on how to deal with his feelings. So he goes on the offensive. "Oh? And you're not in England right now, professing your love to Clive because?" For a second, Colin thinks Greg might punch him in the face, but the anger subsides quickly, and it's replaced by a dejected look. "Because I'm a fucking coward, that's why." Colin doesn't like to see Greg like this; he likes him better when he's oozing confidence. "We are sad, sad losers." A silence falls for about the five-hundredth time that night. Greg looks at him for a long moment and Coling can't read his face -- that unnerves him. "We are rather sorry. But we don't have to be." "I'm not following." In one swift movement, Greg's next to him on the bed, pressed close. "The way I see it," he says, "neither of them is ever going to come to us, so maybe we should just move on with someone new." With that, Greg kisses him urgently. Colin's hands seem to have a mind of their own, as they're clutching at Greg's arms though his shirt, not pushing them away like Colin's telling them to. Encouraged, Greg climbs halfway into his lap, settling his knee between his legs. "Knew I knocked on the right door tonight." His mouth has moved to Colin's neck, licking and sucking his way down to the collar of his shirt, then back up again. This whole thing is sudden and unexpected, but when you're an improv comedian, the unexpected is routine. If anyone had asked Colin yesterday what he'd want to be doing this time today, he would have said sleeping without hesitation. Fucking Greg wouldn't even be on his radar. But now that's how he'd answer that question. At least his body would; he tries to think with his brain instead of his dick, tries to stay rational, tries to keep his breathing even. "Greg." The name comes out weak and needy. God, he's screwed. The other man doesn't stop nuzzling his neck. He just hums a questioning sound into his skin that spreads a warmth throughout his body and makes Colin forget what he's trying to say. But he can't let that happen. This is too important. "Remember... remember what you said about things being awkward with Clive? After?" Greg pulls back and Colin can see anger in his eyes. Greg's been angry a lot tonight. Then he leans in and kisses Colin, bites his lip. When he pulls back again, the anger's still there. "This is different." "Because you don't love me?" He thinks maybe he struck a chord. The anger's finally gone and Greg can't meet his eyes. "Col." It's his turn to be angry now. "Don't fucking call me that." The name reminds him too much of Ryan, and he doesn't want Greg using it, not now. And it's irrational, because Greg calls him that all the time. But he's half hard and feeling angry and guilty and confused and rationality left the room at four twenty-three, anyway. Greg tries to repair the break. "I want you. So I haven't been pining over you for years. We're friends, right? And I have thought about sleeping with you once or twice. We don't have to do that serious, falling in love shit. We can just enjoy it for what it is." And suddenly Colin doesn't care anymore about the consequences. He's lived in the shadow of Ryan Stiles his whole adult life and at some point, he realizes, you have to make your own way. Realizes that waiting around for the million-to-one chance that he and Ryan might actually one day be together when he hasn't even seen the man in over a year is stupid and pointless. Maybe it's not the best reason to fuck Greg, but sometimes you just have to take risks and hope they work out. They'll use each other a little bit, yeah. But as long as they're honest about it, it doesn't have to be the end of the world. "You've thought about it before?" With Colin's words, Greg knows he has permission, and his hands start moving again, reaching under his shirt, setting Colin's skin on fire with his touch. "Yeah. I always thought that shy thing was just an act and you'd be all kinds of frisky." Colin goes for Greg's belt, needing more contact. He can feel more than hear the other man laughing against his mouth. "See? Should have taken these off to begin with." "Bastard." Greg grunts and bucks against him. "Hurry the fuck up." Colin's a little tired of Greg ordering him around, getting inside his head, telling him how he feels. So he makes a choice. Gathers all his strength and uses his whole body to flip them over and up the mattress, so that Greg's pinned underneath him. He grinds his body against Greg's slowly, watching the other man's face, loving the desire he sees there. Once he recovers a bit, Greg speaks. "Always knew you'd be good in bed." *** "Do you have a cigarette?" "I quit." "Liar." "Okay, fine. I'm just out." They lie in silence while the sky lightens outside. Colin feels like he should say something, but he has no idea what. Greg's the one who ends up breaking the silence, as usual. "This doesn't change anything. We're going to do tonight's show, and other shows other nights, and not let this screw up our friendship." Colin knows Greg can't promise that, but he hopes it's true. "Are we going to do this again?" "I wouldn't say no. But if Ryan ever comes to his senses don't feel the slightest bit guilty about dropping me for him." Biting back a smile, Colin replies, "Same goes for you and Clive." Greg doesn't bother to try to hide his smile, "Oh, I wasn't about to ask your permission." They laugh together at that. And Colin's pretty confident that this can work out after all. "You're sure you don't have a cigarette anywhere?" "G'night, Greg." -- end --