[FIC] Told in Confidence

[clayangel.livejournal.com]

Title: Told in Confidence
Author: Clay
Pairing: Greg/Brad
Rating: R mostly for language
Summary: Greg lets something slip and Brad is not happy. Response to Anger challenge.



The first thing Brad did once the door was shut was slam Greg against it. The material of his suit jacket was stiff, thick, but not so much so that Brad couldn’t dig his fingers into it, wrap his fists around it to clench the material in a strangle tight hold. That hold was the only thing keeping Brad from encircling his hands around Greg’s neck and choking the life out of him.

“You told them I was gay?!” It was practically screamed, sharp and bordering on hysterical, straight into Greg’s face. Brad had to bend slightly to do so, but any discomfort the position caused him was lost among the pure, unadulterated rage racing through every vein.

Greg, on the other hand, was far too calm. He shrugged, staring dispassionately back at Brad. The absolute nonchalance had Brad seeing red.

“You are gay.”

“I told you that in confidence!” Brad cried. Betrayal. Yes, that was what he was feeling. Grab onto that and cling tight. “Besides, I was drunk! I didn’t know what I was saying!”

And now Greg just rolled his eyes, breath coming out in an aggravating little scoff.

“My God, Brad,” he said, voice reeking with sardonic derision, “you really expect me to believe that?”

It was not helping to soother Brad’s already frazzled nerves. He gripped Greg’s lapels tighter, fighting to hold onto his anger for fear of slipping into sheer panic.

“It’s the truth!”

“Yeah,” Greg snorted, “and I’m the Tooth Fairy on my days off. What’s the big deal, anyway?”

“They’re not supposed to know!” Brad yelled, yanking Greg away from the door only to slam him back against it, harder this time.

The cool exterior slipped for just a moment and Brad could see a mirror of his own anger in Greg’s eyes, painfully satisfying. But Greg made no move to remove Brad’s hands from him, and in the next moment he was calm and collected again.

“Who’s not supposed to know? All those straight men out there?” He said the word like a joke or an insult. “I’d eat my left shoe if Colin and Ryan aren’t off fucking like bunnies right now.”

And, okay, maybe he had a point, but fear was still thrumming in the back of Brad’s throat, making it hard to breathe. He found his mind slipping back to the previous weekend. Just like tonight, they were all gathered at Drew’s place for an after show party....



He had found Greg out on the porch, sucking on a cigarette, smoke curling around him in a shroud. Brad hadn’t been looking for him, but rather a change of scenery. The talk inside had degraded to work related matters, and he was far too giddy to sit and participate.

Greg had been staring out beyond the yard to the city lights, small points of yellow and white in the distance. He looked up then and nodded to Brad in greeting.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Brad had giggled. He loped over to join Greg by the railing, and together they watched the lights of L.A. twinkle through the smog.

“So,” Greg said, raising his cigarette to his lips again after a few minutes had passed in relative silence, “did you want something?”

“What?” Brad blinked hazily down at Greg. “Oh!” he said suddenly, starting and backing up a step. “I’m sorry. Did you want to be alone?”

Greg was watching him curiously. “No... I came out here for a smoke.... What are you doing here?”

Brad shrugged. “I don’t smoke.”

And then a hint of a smirk began to creep across Greg’s lips. He surveyed Brad another moment and then remarked, “You are absolutely plastered.”

“Yes, I am,” Brad declared, grinning manically. The urge to laugh was still bubbling away in his stomach, squirming up his esophagus to escape in small titters. Brad shook his head and tried, though failing miserably, to put on a somber expression. “I’m sorry. That’s not funny.”

“Yes,” Greg laughed, shaking his head, “you are.”

“I am,” Brad agreed. He was laughing again, barely even aware of it.

“So what’s with that?” Greg asked after another moment passed. “Drinking to forget?”

“No....” Brad frowned, the expression adorably over exaggerated. “I just didn’t want to go home. I figure if I drink enough then Drew’ll let me crash here.”

Greg nodded. He turned back to stare into the distance, dropping the remains of his cigarette and crushing it beneath his heel.

“Why don’t you want to go home?”

Had Brad been just a little more sober, he might have realized how uncomfortable the turn in conversation was making Greg. They’d known each other for close to a decade, but the relationship was largely a working one. Personal matters were rarely discussed, and Greg liked it that way. He was asking more out of a sense of obligation and an odd sort of curiosity rather than actual concern.

Brad shrugged, leaning forward on the rail. “She’s gonna be there. What’s her name... my girlfriend.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

Brad thought a moment, blinking lazily at the lights in the distance. He bit down on his lower lip, worrying it absentmindedly as he considered the question. “No, I just... don’t like her very much.”

Greg couldn’t help but laugh. “Then why are you with her?”

“She’s nice.”

“She’s nice?” Greg echoed, still chuckling. “What the Hell are you talking about?”

If Brad acknowledged the question, it didn’t show. “It’s just...” he was continuing, “she’s missing... something...” There was a sparkle in his eyes as he turned back to Greg, a manic gleam as though he was about to reveal something naughty, like a ten year old peeking up girls’ skirts on the monkey bars.

Greg found himself quite liking this drunken Brad. “And what is that?” He turned to face Brad properly once again, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head to one side, smirk firmly in place.

Brad was grinning widely, gleefully. His eyes shifted to look around them and then he leaned in close and said, “It’s a secret.”

“Oh?”

Brad nodded. He bent his head to whisper in Greg’s ear, his breath warm over Greg’s skin. “She’s missing... a penis.”

“What?” Greg exclaimed, backpedaling and barking out a short, surprised laugh. Brad was still grinning insanely, rocking back on his heels, seemingly delighted at Greg’s response. “You’re kidding.”

Brad just shook his head, looking like he wanted to start giggling again.

It took another moment for the full weight of Brad’s words to register. When they did, Greg laughed again and shook his head. “Are you saying... are you gay?”

Suddenly Brad frowned. He blinked a couple of times. “Am I?”

“You...?” Still reeling, Greg continued to shake his head. “You are so drunk.”

“Yeah...” The smile was back. “And I’m tired. I’m gonna go sleep now. Night Greg.”

Then he had simply turned and walked away.



And now, exactly one week later, they were back in Drew’s house, Brad holding Greg against the door to Drew’s half bath just off the kitchen.

“They weren’t supposed to know,” Brad said again. He was losing sight of his anger. His grip on Greg’s jacket slackened ever so slightly.

“Jesus, Brad.” Greg sighed. He looked down, and then back up again, meeting Brad’s gaze earnestly. “What are you afraid of?”

Brad scowled. “I’m not scared.” Oh, that was a lie. “It’s just none of their business. I have a girlfriend. I don’t want you spreading rumors and fucking it all up.” And it was back: that familiar, safe anger.

Greg stared at him in disbelief, and then absolutely burst out laughing. Surprised at the outburst, Brad finally let go of Greg and just watched him, dumbfounded. Greg laughed so long and hard that by the time he was finished, there were tears shining in the corners of his eyes.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, man.” Greg leaned his head back against the door, smiling up at Brad in wonder. “You’re afraid of me spreading rumors? If you’re so scared that the world’s going to think you’re gay, then maybe you should quit kissing men on stage.”

“But that’s on stage,” Brad argued. “Everyone knows it doesn’t mean anything.”

Greg smiled, a small quirk of his lips accompanied by an unreadable look. “Yeah, right. And I spent all those years flirting with Ryan because it was funny.”

Brad’s jaw practically dropped. Was Greg saying what he thought he was saying? “But... you’re married.”

Greg shrugged. “And you have a girlfriend.”

“But...” Brad backed off another step, “you’re straight.”

And now Greg was laughing again, this time threaded through with copious amounts of ridicule. “Come on, Sherwood,” he scoffed, are you blind, deaf, or just stupid?”

Brad opened his mouth, feeling a curse or two or ten fighting for dominance on the tip of his tongue, but before he had the chance to give voice to his indignation, Greg was stepping up to him, pressing against him, looking into his eyes with a seductive sort of amusement.

“Let me put it this way....”

And he raised up on the balls of his feet to wind both arms around Brad’s neck and pull him down into a kiss.

Greg’s lips were surprisingly soft. He tasted like tobacco and scotch, not the most pleasant of combinations, but at that moment Brad thought he had never tasted anything so divine.

Something about having the shorter man so close to him, kissing him, entwining their tongues in a bathroom of all places was crazily erotic. An image flashed through Brad’s mind: Greg back up against the door, but this time with his pants around his ankles, fingers gripping Brad’s shoulders as Brad brought him to orgasm.

It stirred things inside Brad that he hadn’t known existed. Just as he was bringing his arms up and around Greg’s back, however, fully intent on getting him closer, on making the fantasy a reality, Greg pulled away.

Brad sighed at the loss of contact, arms still weakly reaching out for the other man.

But Greg just smirked and danced out of reach. He lifted a hand to pat Brad’s cheek patronizingly. “Uh huh. You’re straight. Right.” He cracked his back and straightened his jacket before heading for the door.

When he was halfway out, though, he paused and turned to look at Brad over his shoulder. “You know,” he said, “you’re awfully cute when you’re angry.” He smiled slowly. “I’ll be outside having a smoke if you want to continue this... talk,” and there was no denying the insinuation in his tone.

And then he was gone.

Brad stared at the place where Greg had just stood for a few seconds, still trying to process what had happened. Greg had kissed him, and now he was inviting more? But this was Greg, and Brad had a girlfriend, and Greg was married, and, oh Hell, why was he still standing there?

Brad flung the door open and practically jumped out into the hall.

“Greg!” he called out, “Wait up!”


End
10/01/05