[FIC] Feel Me 5/?

[makingamochrie.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the continued feedback!  No xex in this chapter (so save your cold water for the next), but there is that old standby, plot movement!  I actually kinda liked writing this chapter and hope you enjoy reading it as well.

Title:  Feel Me  
Part:  5/?
Pairing:  Colin/Ryan and friends
Rating:  NC-17 for mansmut but none this chapter
Disclaimer:  FICTION.  Didn't happen.  Don't own. Don't sue.  Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me.

Less than an hour later, yet another knock came to my door just as I was straightening my silk tie.  Though I wasn’t looking forward to a night of dinner and gambling and goodness knows what else, I didn’t have it within myself to say no.  Especially to Drew, who’d gone out of his way to make sure my first day here was a memorable one.  I was pleasantly sore, and more than a little tired as I checked my reflection in the mirror one last time, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles in my dark suit before going to the door and opening it. 

 

Drew was beaming at me from the other side, clad as I was in an expensive suit, and looking tanned and refreshed.  “Damn, Mochrie,” he said, slapping me on the arm as he sized me up and down, “you sure do clean up nice!”

 

“Why thank you, Drew.  So do you.”

 

“Yeah, but you’re used to seeing me in these duds.”  Laughing, he grabbed my hand, his grip warm and slightly sweaty.  “C’mon. We’re meeting the others at the restaurant.”

 

Grabbing my key card, I stuffed it into my pocket with my wallet and stepped out into the cool, dim hallway.

 

Drew must have seen my involuntary glance over his head, because he smirked.  “He’s already there, keeping the girls company.”

 

My smile faltered the tiniest bit.  I could feel it there, trembling on my lips, threatening to fail altogether.  Suddenly, the night was even less appealing than it already had been.  “Drew….”

 

“Don’t worry, man,” he soothed, reading my thoughts incorrectly, “these are classy ladies.”

 

I sighed.  “It’s not that….”

 

Stopping, he turned and looked me square in the eyes, expression serious.  Releasing my hand, he reached up to touch my face, gently, like butterfly wings.  He’s always touched me like that, and to this day, I’m unsure why.  “Look,” he said, “I would never put you in that kind of position.  Not without asking you first.”  I rolled my eyes, and he grinned.  “Alright…not offstage.  Anyway, they’re for a couple of buddies of mine who are coming out to dinner with us.  Well, and for me, too,” he continued, blushing a charming pink.  “They’re nice, I swear.  Really classy.  And they won’t, you know, do anything….”

 

He was pleading, and I didn’t have the heart to make him suffer any further because of my hang-ups.  “It’s fine, Drew.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really.  Let’s not keep them waiting.”

 

The smile on his face was like a child’s on Christmas morning, and it warmed me unaccountably.  Grabbing my hand again, he led me down the hallway and into whatever the night held in store for me.

 

*******

 

Dinner, it turned out, was, at least in part, more pleasant than I had anticipated.  The restaurant he had chosen was charming, with dim lighting and wonderful ambiance, intimate without being cloying. Ryan stood as we entered, looking incredible in his dark suit, white shirt, and pale green tie.  He smelled lightly of cologne and scotch as he hugged me in greeting, pressing a warm, brief kiss to my cheek before releasing me.  His eyes were shadowed, but contained the faintest hint of a sparkle, and I nodded, smiling slightly, as I sat beside him in the chair he’d saved for me.  To my left was a stunning young blonde woman in a beautiful Vera Wang sheath, and when I greeted her, her smile danced in her eyes the way that Ryan’s wanted to, but didn’t.  The other two women at the table were equally beautiful, refined, and well-dressed. Remembering Drew’s comments to me in the hallway, I gathered that they were high end escorts whose time was purchased for the evening.  The knowledge didn’t bother me.  It was pretty much a fact of life in the business I was in, and the women seemed agreeable enough company.

 

In fact, Christa, the woman seated to my left and Drew’s date for the evening, professed a love of cooking, and much of the meal was spent in pleasant conversation with her over various dishes and cooking techniques.  Which, as it happened, had the added benefit of keeping me from doing my infamous ‘bump on a log’ impression when Drew, Ryan, and the two other gentlemen who I didn’t know except to name, began to trade increasingly boisterous war stories that went well beyond my comfort level. 

 

At some point during the meal, I excused myself to use the facilities, and as I was washing my hands, the door hissed open and Ryan entered, looking dashing and more than slightly predatory.  “She wants you,” he growled, heels clicking across the ceramic tiling of the bathroom.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Drew’s date.  Bambi or Fifi or whoever the fuck she is.”  Reaching out a long arm, he grabbed me around the waist and pulled so that our pelvises were melded together.  I could feel the burning heat of him leaching through the expensive fabric of his trousers, and mine as well.

 

“It’s Christa, and she happens to be a very nice person.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

I sighed.  “Ryan….”

 

Lowering his head, he gave me a kiss that I could only call ‘claiming’, all slashing teeth and probing tongue, and after a moment of giving in to it, I pressed my hands against his chest and gently pushed him away.  “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Ryan.  It clashes with your suit.”

 

He snorted and shook his head, but didn’t release his hold on me.  “You don’t get it, do you?”

 

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be a little more specific.”

 

“They’re all looking at you,” he attempted to explain, the alcohol he’d consumed giving his words a soft slur.  “Drew probably shelled out fifteen grand for those whores and they’d give it up to you for free if you crooked your damn finger at ‘em.”

 

I had to laugh.  “I think you highly overestimate my attractiveness, especially to members of the opposite sex.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Ryan,” I said softly, pressing my hand over his heart, “I can’t help being who I am.  Maybe they like that I talk to them, instead of through them.”  I paused for a moment, replaying what I’d just said and hating how sanctimonious I sounded.  I shook my head.  “It’s not like I’m asking for the attention, you know.”

 

“Yeah, I know. Everybody loves Colin,” he replied, and there was a sarcastic tinge to the words that I didn’t much care for.

 

“And Colin loves very few.  Remember that.”  Giving him a slight smile, I broke his hold on me and left him standing there at the sink.

 

*******

 

The rest of the meal passed quickly and uneventfully, and before the hour was through, we were back in the hotel and striding through the bells and whistles and tin-canned atmosphere of the casino on our way to the VIP area.  My weariness was beginning to catch up with me, especially after such a pleasantly strenuous morning and afternoon, but Drew gave me another one of his looks, and once again, my inability to say a simple ‘no’ came back to bite me.  Ryan, unfortunately, was spending much of his time trying to get some sort of reaction from me by alternately hovering and completely ignoring me, and the game was only adding to my tiredness. 

 

I may be younger than I appear, but High School was still a very long time ago, and my patience for its games has long since worn thin, as my son would be only too happy to tell you.

 

It had gotten to the point that by the time we entered the rarefied air of the private, high dollar section of the casino, I was ready to dump all ten thousand that Drew had foisted on me on a single spin of the roulette wheel, just to be done with it all.  I might have, too, but the way my luck had been running so far, I’d have won and been stuck there until goodness knows when.

 

Instead, I accepted a glass of white wine and wandered around the small area until I settled on a thousand dollar blackjack table that wasn’t too crowded. My heart wasn’t in the game, and I lost half the money within moments.  Feeling guilty for throwing away money that wasn’t even mine, I concentrated a bit, and managed to win back my losses, and then some, but as it usually is in Las Vegas, it all went downhill from there.  Rather quickly, I had lost all of Drew’s money, and some from my own pocket as well.  When I yawned for the third time in five minutes, I gave into the inevitable, tipped the dealer, thanked my tablemates, and retired from the game.

 

Leaning against the long, oaken bar, I watched with a good deal of fondness as Ryan, Drew and friends boisterously took over one of the craps tables, laughing and obviously having the time of their lives.  Drew, as always, appeared to be winning big and Ryan didn’t seem to be doing too badly either.  It cheered me considerably to watch Ryan laughing and cracking jokes, bounding around like the tall goof he was.  My heart gave a gentle pang as the memories of what was washed over me at the sight, and for a brief moment, I ached for the old days and Whose Line so badly, I could taste it. 

 

Don’t get me wrong; I absolutely adore Brad, and our friendship and tours are one of the highlights of my life, but sharing the stage with Ryan has always been pure magic and nothing, and no one, will ever compare.

 

As if reading my heart, he looked up, and our eyes met across the space separating us, and the vortex threatened to open again.  This time, however, I resisted its pull, content for the moment to stay where I was; a silent observer.  He gave me a grin, and I raised my glass to him.  He winked, and then the moment was gone.

 

Perhaps fifteen minutes later, I placed my empty wine glass on the bar, pushed my weary body away from it, and strode over to the craps table, where the high-spiritedness had only increased. 

 

“Hey, buddy!” Drew enthused as he saw me approach.  “How you doin, huh?  Wanna join us?”  He giggled, blowing alcoholic fumes into my face that were strong enough to sting my eyes.  I had the distinct feeling that he was going to regret this, come morning.

 

Then again, this was Drew, so probably not.

 

I held my hands up.  “Thank you, Drew, but no.  I think I’m….”

 

“Awww…c’mon!  Don’t be a…a….a….”  He looked around, drawing a complete blank.

 

“Stick in the mud?” I supplied.

 

“Yeah!  That!”

 

“Yo, Stiles!” one of Drew’s friends yelled.  “Give him the dice!  Maybe that’ll change my luck!”

 

A chorus of agreement came from around the table, and I shook my head, demurring.  “Thank you, but….”

 

And then Ryan looked at me, and I saw a look in his eyes that I’d seen a thousand times over the years.  The one that said ‘you’re gonna hate this, but play along anyway’.  The one that I could resist only on the rarest of occasions.  This wasn’t one of them.

 

Giving him my patented long-suffering sigh, I froze in position and allowed him to do as he would.  Smirking, he dropped the dice into his other hand, reached up, and rubbed the pads of his long fingers over the top of my head in a sweeping circular motion.  “For luck.”

 

The laughter was loud and instantaneous.  Drew cackled so hard I feared he would rupture something, especially when he collapsed against the table and nearly fell to the floor.  I was well used to laughter coming at my expense--had come to enjoy it really since no harm was meant-- though I made damn sure that none of the others knew that, narrowing my eyes until Ryan turned away in mock fright.

 

Putting the dice back into his now supposedly lucky hand, he shook them and tossed.  Cheers erupted, and I sighed again as I was patted, thumped, and basically manhandled.

 

Collecting the dice, Ryan turned to me again, and I took one deliberate step back.  His lips turned down in a moue and his eyes got wide and sad. 

 

“Not a chance,” I said, aiming for sternness.

 

“C’mon….”

 

“No.”

 

“Awww, c’mon. Please?”

 

“No.”  I turned my nose up slightly.  “You don’t need it.  My luck lingers.”

 

Drew collapsed again, laughing so hard tears sprouted from his eyes.  The others laughed as well, loud and heartily, and I finally allowed a smile to crease my features, pleased to have added my little contribution to the gaiety of the evening. 

 

When the laughter finally stopped, I let my expression harden and stared at both Drew and Ryan, using my extended index finger to illustrate the seriousness of my next words. “And if either of you even think of using this on stage next week, I will make you regret it until your dying day.”

 

The twin gulps of two boys caught with their hands in the cookie jar greeted my threat, accompanied by a Greek Chorus of “oooooooooh’s” from the assorted onlookers.

 

One of the gentlemen at the table, a newcomer who I didn’t recognize, turned to his friend and said, “Stage?  Isn’t he a little old to be a groupie?”

 

I thought Ryan was going to blow a gasket, but the croupier, a young man seeming barely out of his teens, chose that moment to step in, to my eternal mortification.  “Sir,” he commented, “did you have a chance to read the marquee outside our establishment when you came in?”

 

The man shrugged.  “Yeah.  So what?”

 

The croupier pointed to Drew.  “Drew Carey.”  Then to Ryan.  “Ryan Stiles.”

 

“Yeah.  I know that.  So?”

 

He pointed, lastly, to me.  “Colin Mochrie, improv god.”

 

All eyes came to stare and I wished heartily for the earth to open up and swallow me whole.  I could feel my cheeks flame with embarrassment and I ducked my head, staring blindly down at my shoes.  Then Ryan’s arm was around my shoulders and I told myself to pull it together.  At last, I looked up and tried a smile on for size.  It fit poorly, but it would have to do.  “Why thank you, young man,” I replied airily.  “There’ll be a little something extra in your pay packet next week.”  I waited a beat for the chuckles to subside.  “And with that, ladies and gentlemen, I bid you a fond adieu. Goodnight.  You’ve been a wonderful audience.”

 

Drew squeezed my arm and Ryan, passing off the dice, led me away from the table and to a shadowed, private spot just inside the doors.  “You okay?” he murmured, tucking me along his side and stroking my back with the tips of his fingers.

 

“I’m fine,” I replied.  “Now that my face isn’t on fire.”

 

He chuckled softly.  “Can’t blame the guy for telling the truth.”

 

I sighed again, and this time he did as well.  “I’m sorry,” he said.

 

“For what?” I asked, genuinely confused.

 

“For being an idiot earlier.  For being one now.”

 

“I’ll accept your apology for earlier, but you’re certainly not being one now.”

 

He ducked his head and I watched the light play off his sun-lightened curls.  “Yeah, well, I didn’t have to bring you into the thing, either.”

 

Turning in his arms, I looked up at him, using my hand to tilt his chin until our eyes met.  “You didn’t do anything wrong, Ry.  If anything, you made me happy.”

 

He blinked, slowly, confused.  “I…did?”

 

I had to laugh.  “Yes. You did.  I love playing with you, you nut!  And I miss it.  More than you could ever know.”

 

“Oh…Col…” he whispered, and the kiss that followed was like none that we’d yet shared that day, filled with the fondness of memories, the bitterness of regret, the salty tang of tears, and, perhaps, the promise of tomorrow.  When we parted, we touched our foreheads together, standing, for one brief moment, in a world all our own.

 

Then we broke apart by mutual consent and I grinned up at him.  “You’re buying me breakfast tomorrow, so go back there and win more of Drew’s money.”

 

He looked at me, confused.  “But I thought….”

 

“I’m beat, big guy,” I said, real regret coloring my words.  “And still on Toronto time.”

 

“Alright,” he said softly, meaning anything but.

 

I took his hands.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

 

“I….”

 

Someday, I told myself, I would stop caving so easily.  Reaching into my pocket, I withdrew my wallet and slipped out the second key card I’d been given.  “Make that later tonight.”

 

The smile he gave me was worth every bit of sleep I’d lose.  And then some.

 

*******

To be continued!.....