[FIC] FEEL ME 9/?

[makingamochrie.livejournal.com]

Morning.  Thanks again for the feedback.  Now, in this chapter, we have the same two things as yesterday, Greg and DRUG USAGE, as well as sex!  Yes, that's right, Sex and Drugs and...Greg!

This should be the last chapter that mentions DRUG USAGE, but it does mention DRUG USAGE, so don't read it if you have a problem with DRUG USAGE.

TITLE:  Feel Me
PART:  9/?
PAIRING:  Colin/Ryan and friends!
RATING:  NC-17 for SEX AND DRUGS (both in this chapter)
DISCLAIMER:  Don't own, Don't sue, Don't it make my brown eyes blue!
SUMMARY:  Whores and gamblin, Whores and gamblin, that's Ne-vaaaaaaaa-dah!

“I’m rambling, I know, but hear me out.”  I held up a hand.  “There are these…places, I’m sure you’ve heard of them…private, heavy membership dues, nobody knows, nobody sees.  You can go there to step…out of yourself…or into yourself…for a little while….”

 

“Like the Pumphouse, you mean?” he asked, naming one of the most famous—if, indeed, fame can be attributed to an extremely private club; a Country Club for the Kinky Set, as Ryan had always phrased it.

 

“Exactly like that.”

 

“Well, hell yeah, man!  There’s one close by.  I’m a member.”

 

“Why am I not surprised?”

 

We shared a laugh.

 

“So am I,” I continued.  “I’ve been there a few times, though only once with Ryan.”

 

“Please,” he breathed, eyes wide, “tell me you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

 

“I probably am, yes.”

 

His eyes lit like a man who’d just seen his numbers come up on a Keno board.  “This could so totally work!”

 

“It could also explode in our faces.”

 

He shook his head.  “I don’t think so, man.  I mean, think about it.  What’s the worst that can happen?  The scene gets too intense, he calls a halt, bingo, we’re back where we started.”

 

It was my turn to snort.  “Ryan?  Ryan Stiles?  Call a halt to anything in front of his friends and acquaintances?  I think we’re talking about two different people here, Greg.”

 

“Not necessarily,” he countered, holding up a finger.  “What if he didn’t realize, at least at first, that there was anyone else there but the two of you?  Has he ever objected to being hooded?”

 

“We might have tried it once or twice,” I allowed, knowing that was a dicey one.  Ordinarily, he would reject the notion flat out of hand.  But sometimes, if he was in just the right mood, it would arouse him so quickly, I’d have to think fast on my feet to keep the party from finishing before it had even started.

 

Luckilly, thinking fast on my feet is what I do for a living.

 

Still, it wasn’t sitting quite right with me.  If it worked, it could provide the crack required to help him get what he seemed to need.  But if it didn’t, it could ruin twenty five years of friendship, love, trust, and a the heart of a damn good man besides.  I sighed.  “I don’t know….”

 

“Well, feel him out then,” he said, quite logically.  “Show’s not till next week.  We’ve all got time to fill, and I, for one, don’t intend to spend all my time losing all my fucking money down the maw of some big business casino.  I don’t think he does, either.  Mention an interest, maybe let it slip that some other friends might be there as well, see what he says.”

 

I nodded.  That made sense.  It would give him the time he needed to back out without losing face, while knowing the score before he went in.  “That’s doable.”

 

“Have you guys, you know, done any group shit before?”

 

“Once or twice,” I again allowed.  “Though it was when we were seeing each other more frequently than we do now.”

 

“Mixed?  Just guys?”

 

“Just men.  I have no desire to sleep with any woman who isn’t my wife.”

 

“Totally understandable, man.  Just asking.”

 

“I’m not upset,” I assured him.

 

“Fuck, man, between you and the weed, I don’t think you’d be upset right now even if somebody did come in here and steal all your shit.”

 

“Probably not,” I agreed, sliding forward on the bench enough to lay my head back against the rim of the tub.  “Ahh, this is nice.”

 

“It is, man, totally, but now I’ve got the worst case of munchies known to mankind.”

 

“This suite’s pretty well stocked,” I replied.  “Please, help yourself.”

 

“Nah. I want some exercise.  Take a stroll.  Take in the sights. See how many old ladies I can piss off by dumping their quarter buckets. Let’s grab some chow anywhere but here, huh?  You with me?”

 

I shrugged, not really caring one way or the other.  “Sure, sounds good.”

 

“Awesome, man.  Meet you down in the lobby in what, twenty?”

 

“Make it a half hour and you’ve got a deal.”

 

“Thirty minutes it is.”  He hopped up out of the tub and pulled his suit back on over his wet body.  Grabbing his stash, he winked at me.  “Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble, now.  See ya in a few.” 

 

And then he was gone, whistling and just as mellow as could be.  It was a good look on him.

 

******

 

A series of beeps at my door heralded Ryan’s appearance, and when he walked in, he was still clad in his swim trunks and sporting a respectable hard-on.  Not more than one step inside, he stopped and waved dramatically at the air.  “So, Greg was here.”

 

“He was,” I agreed, zipping and then buttoning my jeans.  “We’re going out to find something to eat.  Would you care to join us?”

 

His gaze traveled from me, to the tub which was still draining, and still had the empty glasses and bottle sitting on the rim, and then back to me again.  His eyes narrowed.  “What went on here?”

 

“A soak and a toke?” I offered, eyeing him pleasantly.

 

“What else,” he demanded.

 

“A little wine, a little conversation between friends.  Why, was there something else I was supposed to do?  If so, I’ve forgotten, I’m afraid.”  He growled, and I held up a hand.  “We both got tired of the sun and came back here to relax and catch up.  Now, we’re hungry and going to get something to eat.  If you want to come, you’re more than welcome.  If not, I’ll see you later on tonight, right?”

 

He stared at me for a long moment, clearly torn.  It was obvious he wanted to start an argument, fling whatever accusations he had to fling, but it was just as obvious that I wasn’t going to accommodate him.  His broad shoulders slumped; his battle lost, mine never entered.  I swore I could see the tiniest trace of blush on his cheeks.  It might have been sunburn, however.  “I was kind of hoping you’d help me with this,” he said finally, gesturing vaguely to his groin. 

 

“You were, were you?” I asked, deliberately lowering my pitch. 

 

“Well yeah.  Considering you were the one who gave it to me.”

 

I shot him a disbelieving look.  “Two dozen naked strippers and I gave you that erection?  I must be pretty good,” I surmised, “since I’ve been down here for the past hour.”

 

When he shrugged, thirty years dropped magically from his face and form.  If he were wearing a sneaker, he might have dug its toe into the carpet.  The blush deepened, touching his ears, and my heart fluttered in my chest, once again completely and utterly charmed.

 

“You know how much I love the taste of chlorine,” I finally answered.

 

“I could wash,” he offered hastily, feet already heading toward the bathroom.

 

“No,” I said, holding up a hand and halting him in his tracks.

 

“No?”  His eyes were wide, hurt.

 

I smiled.  “Let me.”

 

Taking him by the hand, I led him into the large bathroom with its equally large walk in shower.  Urging him into the shower, I stepped in with him, and turned him so that he faced the far corner next to the shower head—which I had no plans on using.  “Hold on,” I instructed, grasping each hand in turn and placing them on the metal bars that lined the square stall.  “Tight.” I whispered. 

 

Even without being able to see him, I knew he gulped.

 

I eased his trunks over his erection, which by now had achieved truly massive proportions, and down his long, lean legs.  “Step out.”

 

He obeyed quickly, and I tossed the trunks into a corner of the room.

 

“Stay just like that,” I ordered, touching him briefly mid-back as I stepped out and watched his entire body tremble.  “I’ll be right back.”

 

In the bathroom proper was a series of wire shelves which held plush towels, bathmats, washcloths and, most interestingly, an assortment of sponges, loofahs, and shower mitts.  I considered the loofah briefly, then discarded it as being too abrasive for my current purposes.  Instead, I chose a shower mitt was highly textured and slightly rough to the touch.  It would do perfectly. 

 

Stepping over to my open toiletries bag, I withdrew a bottle of very mild shower gel and dabbed a small dollop on the sponge after I’d slipped it over my hand.  Turning on the tap at the sink, I wet the sponge and pressed in the gel until a slight lather had built up; enough to soothe, but not too much that the texture of the sponge couldn’t be felt. 

 

Smiling to myself, I stepped back into the shower and pressed my body against his, rubbing my chest down his warm back and feeling my always sensitive nipples harden.  He moaned softly.  “Ready?”

 

“God, yes,” he rasped, his hands white-knuckled on the bars.

 

Sliding my arm over the almost non existent crease between waist and hip, I reached down with my covered hand and grasped him firmly, beginning to pump immediately.

 

“Oh…fuck!”  His head snapped back, nearly colliding with mine before swinging forward and nestling itself in the cool tile of the corner.  “Jesus…fucking…Christ!”

 

“Mm,” I purred, licking along his shoulder blades before nipping at the skin there.  “You like this, do you?”

 

“I…fuck…Col….”  Increasing the strength of my grip, I took him hard and fast, easily handling his frantically pistoning hips.  “Oh, god, oh god, oh god, oh god, Col…I…need you…inside me….”

 

“All in good time,” I replied, adding a slight twist to my strokes.  “Right now, let me take care of you.”  I peppered his back with kisses, nips and licks as he frantically sought release by my hand.  When he began to keen, I stood up on my toes, licked the shell of his ear, and whispered, “Come for me, Ryan,” before biting down on the thick muscle of his shoulder.  Hard.

 

“God!” he screamed out, his release spurting against the tiles in four sharp jets.

 

His legs gave out, but I was ready, catching him neatly on my lap and holding him there with the strength of my legs.  My hips and knees protested the position and the weight, but I bore both willingly, releasing his softening penis, tossing off the sponge, and wrapping both arms around his waist as his chest labored in heaving gasps.  His body was limp and pliant against my own, and I stroked his chest and belly, gentling him down until his breathing became less erratic and his heartbeat stopped thundering through his back and into my chest. 

 

“Holy fuck,” he whispered, totally drained. 

 

My own legs trembling, I pushed us both to a standing position, and I turned him around again, having him lean against the wall for support.  Palming his neck, I brought his lips down to mine and kissed him with warm affection.  “Better?”

 

“Oh, yeah.”  He bore the dopey grin of the well loved, and I chuckled. 

 

“Care to join me for dinner?”

 

His eyes tracked down to the juncture between my legs, and the back of his hand brushed against me. 

 

“I’m saving it for later,” I replied, tipping him a wink and a cheeky grin. 

 

He blinked.  “I don’t think I can walk.”

 

“Then I’ve done my job well, yes?”

 

“Was that all it was?” he asked, sounding vaguely hurt.

 

I rolled my eyes.  “You’re such a goof sometimes, you know that?”  Giving him another sound kiss, I stepped back and out of the shower.  “You need a shower and a nap.  I shouldn’t be gone very long.”

 

“I’m sure Drew’s got something planned,” he replied, then gave forth a jaw-cracking yawn that had me wincing.

 

“Well, leave me a message letting me know what it is so I can be sure to avoid it.”

 

“Col….”

 

“You are sensitive today.  Is there something I should know about?”

 

“Nah.  Just tired, I guess.”

 

“Then take a shower and hit the sack. I’m sure Drew can handle life without you for a few hours.”

 

“Yeah,” he finally admitted.  “You’re right.”

 

“Aren’t I always?”

 

The scowl didn’t fit on his post-coital face, and he dropped it in a second, giving me a tired grin in its place. 

 

“I’ll see you in a little while.”

 

“Okay.”  As I turned to leave, I heard my name float over my shoulder. 

 

“Yes?”

 

“I love you.”

 

Turning back, I smiled at him.  “I love you too, Ryan.”

 

I quickly pulled on a shirt and tucked it in, then stuffed my wallet into my pants. As I left the room, I heard the shower hiss on, and I smiled again.  Maybe things would work out after all.

 

*******

To be continued...