Fic 13 of 100

[ryanmochrie.livejournal.com]

Title: When Darkness Starts to Flood Your Eyes
Fandom: Whose Line is it Anyway?
Characters: Greg Proops/You’ll See! implied Ryan Stiles/Colin Mochrie, Clive Anderson
Prompt: 074. Dark
Word Count: 1043
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Greg has a new reason to love power outages.
Author’s Notes Set somewhere during the fifth season of Whose Line? UK. It’s written kind of, well, oddly. Don’t know how else to describe it.



I walk into my motel room and find that it’s dark. Ryan must not be back yet, probably off with Colin. I flip the light switch up, but the room stays dark. I hear rumbling thunder followed by a flash of lightening bright enough to light the room for a split second as the rain begins to fall in pelting sheets. No wonder. The power being out makes sense, it also explains the dark hallway. The whole floor must be electrically challenged tonight. It fucking figures, piece of shit motel they put us in.

It doesn’t matter. I’ll just take a shower and go to bed. A shower in the dark. That sounds about as much fun as an underwear drawer full of mousetraps. I stumble into the bathroom, cursing when I bang my shin on what I think is a chair and before I realize what I’m doing, flick the light switch. I’m such a dumb ass sometimes. Getting my clothes off is the easy part, setting the water temperature, however, proves to be much more difficult. I burn myself once and almost insta-freeze by nuts twice, but I finally get it right.

The lukewarm water does wonders for my muscles. Standing under the steady, almost comforting, spray my eyes drift shut. Closing your eyes in the dark is an odd feeling. That and the combination of rushing water makes me feel disorientated and entirely aware at the same time. An earth shatteringly loud bang of thunder sounds and I almost have a fucking heart attack. Oh wouldn’t that be utterly perfect? I can see the headline of the piece of shit newspaper now: London thunderstorms take yet another victim.

I reach for the shampoo and flip open the top, pouring it into my palm. There’s a noise that sounds like the door opening, but nothing to fret, right? It’s probably just Ryan, or more likely my stress mangled mind. What with Ryan basically doing back flips for Colin, Clive persisting on telling me he’s straight every chance he gets, and the new guy it’s a wonder I haven’t blown my brains out yet. He’s the worst of it really. He’s just so naive and so damn innocent.

I begin to work up a lather in my hair but a loud bang and what sounds like shuffling feet distract me. It’s probably the wind. That’s all, sometimes during heavy storms the wind blows doors open and shut. This thought process serves fine to calm my jumpy nerves, that is until I hear the distinct sound of the shower curtain being pushed back. I know this is not my imagination because the sound is too close and now I can feel the presence of another being standing with him.

My first instinct is to flea, but a strong, muscled arm grasps me around the waist and presses my back against their body. There is no hiding that my mystery person is male. I can feel his hard cock pressed tightly against the crack of my ass. I try to say something, but he covers my mouth. How he knew I was going to talk is beyond me. My heart is beating a million miles a minute I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared, but, I’ll be God damned, I’m hard as rock. That smooth skinned hand slowly moves down my chest, and takes hold of my throbbing member. I was scared up until now that he might mean me harm, but that stroking hand couldn’t be the hand of evil, and if it was, than heaven be damned.

I throw my head back onto the shoulder of my pleasure giving stranger and I realize that he’s just about the same height as me, just an inch or two taller maybe. The soap is dripping from my hair and down our bodies and as we start to sway together it creates the most wonderful slick, hot sensation. I bring my hand behind me to give as well as receive and his other hand grips my hip. As his hand moves in a furious up and down motion he strokes his thumb over my head and it’s I scream out, throwing my other hand up and curling my fingers into his hair, which I notice there seems to be a lot of.

He keeps hitting that same spot with his thumb and every time he does a flash of white light appears behind my tightly closed eyelids. I buck into his hand and he pushes me back against him and begins to grind into me as our hands continue to work. He brings his mouth to the base of my neck and runs his tongue in a circle over the bone there. That brings me to the edge. A desperate moan escapes my lips. I empty myself onto the shower floor and seconds later I feel him do the same, his seed traveling down my back.

We stay pressed to each other for a moment and then he flips me around by my hair and presses his lips to mine roughly. Our teeth clash together and I can feel blood trickle between our groping tongues. The he releases me and I hear the shower curtain open again. I lean against the wall to steady myself. I’ve down some crazy shit in my day, but that was something else. This is one for the Penthouse Forum, I think as I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around myself.

I wonder who that was. That simple thought brings my mind a very obvious epiphany: I just got jerked off by a total stranger! Even more so, I just jerked off a total stranger! I throw open the door and look in the direction I remember the elevator to be. It opens and it’s light, figures that’s the only one that works, falls over a sculpted man at least five years younger than me as he steps in shirtless and smirking, his shaggy hair clinging wet to his face, and pulls on a pair of boxer- briefs. The doors close and I pick my jaw up off the floor. Wow, Chip may be new, but I guess he wasn’t as innocent as I thought.

~End~

*the title is a Clay Aiken lyric, just to let ya’ll know!*