Fic Exchange Story for saiya_tina
Sep. 29th, 2010 01:31 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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wl_fanfictionTitle: Untitled
Author: Jie Jie
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brad/Ryan/Greg
So here's my fic for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
saiya_tina who requested a Brad/Ryan/Greg fic set in the Britline era...this is my very first attempt at writing a threesome and it was a hell of a lot harder than I expected! ^_^;; I did come perilously close to trashing this but I pulled something together in the end... Comments and criticism are much appreciated!
“Where the hell is he?” Ryan Stiles was full of impatience. It was five o'clock and the days taping had ended over an hour ago. He and Greg Proops were sitting in Greg's rented car, waiting for the third member of their posse. Leaning forward from the back seat, Ryan used his long arms to reach around Greg and press down hard on the horn. Greg winced at the noise and reached over his shoulder to tap Ryan on the head.
“Chill Ry.” He said. “He's probably fixing his hair or something.”
“Like you can talk.” Ryan said and went to ruffle Greg's perfectly coiffed hair. Greg batted Ryan's hands away.
“Hey! Don't mess with the do.” Ryan's hands drifted south and stroked Greg's stomach.
“Don't know why you think Helping Hands is so hard.” He murmured against Greg's ear. “We can't all be six foot six sex gods.” Greg replied, voice not at all steady as Ryan's fingers rubbed at Greg's nipples through his shirt.
“I'm here, I'm here!” The moment was lost as Brad Sherwood yanked open the car door and dropped into the passenger seat. He grinned as he spotted the compromising position of Ryan's arms, still wrapped around Greg. “Starting without me gentlemen?”
“Just keeping ourselves busy.” Ryan said, completely unrepentant. He leaned back and stretched out his long body on the rear seat of the car.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Brad was almost bouncing with pent up energy.
“Couldn't leave without you, Bad Timing Man.” Greg said dryly as he started the car.
“Oh ho ho!” Brad held up his hands and tried to look affronted. “You want me to leave just say so dude.”
“Kids, please, daddy's trying to sleep.” Ryan said. Greg snorted and rolled his eyes.
“Where the hell are you guys taking me anyway?”Brad asked.
“That, my friend, is a secret.” Greg replied as he put the car in gear and headed out onto the road. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“Boy, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that.” Brad said.
“You'd have a dime.” Ryan and Greg said at the same time. They shared a warm glance in the review mirror. Brad groaned.
“Just drive Proops.” He commanded and flicked on the radio to the most obnoxious station he could find.
*
“The seaside?” Brad raised one eyebrow as the unmistakable scent of the ocean filled the car.
“We thought it'd be good to get out of the metropolis.” Ryan said as he stretched. They turned the corner onto a narrow street. It was lined with beautiful regency town houses and down at the end of the road Brad caught sight of sunlight glinting off the ocean. Greg pulled up outside one of the houses and the three performers piled out of the car.
“Ocean View Hotel.” Brad read the sign above the door. “Sounds promising.” They filed inside with their meagre luggage and Greg was instantly greeted by a short, rotund woman with a strong Russian accent.
“Mr. Proops, welcome back.” the dour looking woman wasn't quite as intimidating with a smile on her face. She pulled Greg into a motherly hug, much to the discomfort of the San Franciscan. Brad couldn't help but snicker behind his hand.
“Uh, a little help guys?” Greg said as he tried to detach the hotelier from his person.
“You must be tired.” The woman said, thankfully taking the hint. “Here's your keys. I give you best room. You want breakfast tomorrow?”
“Any chance we could just order from our room?” Ryan queried.
“Of course. Room service will bring anything you like. Your room's top floor. You need anything, just ask.”
“Was this place built for midgets?” Brad said as the three men climbed the narrow stairway.
“Quit whining.” Greg said with a smile as they finally reached the top floor. He unlocked the door and stepped aside so his companions could enter first. “After you gentlemen.”
“Whoa.” Brad said quietly as he walked into bright, spacious and very modern penthouse suite. The large windows overlooked the ocean. There was a massive king size bed which would sleep three with ease. In the dining area there was a bottle of champagne on ice and a wicker hamper which Brad eyed curiously.
“So? Better than looking out at London traffic, huh?” Ryan said.
“You betcha.” Brad replied. “Isn't little Miss Kremlin down there gonna be a bit suspicious though? What with three guys, one bed and all.”
“Did you not see the rainbow flag in the window?” Greg gave Brad a look as he tossed his bag onto the bed and started to pull out a change of clothes.
“This is Greg's spiritual home away from home.” Ryan explained, before heading straight to the champagne.
“So, what? This is England's answer to San Francisco?” Brad couldn't help but sound dubious. The quaint little seaside town he'd glimpsed didn't much resemble the eclectic sprawl of the American city.
“Hey man, I'll take what I can get.” Greg said as he loosened his tie. “What's happening with the champagne Ry?”
“Don't rush me.” Ryan wore an expression of utmost concentration as he fought with the cork. A moment later and there was a satisfying pop. Ryan poured three glasses and passed them over to his companions.
“Here's to getting the hell out of London.” Ryan said as he held up his glass in a toast.
“I'll drink to that, man.” Greg lifted his champagne flute.
“Let's get this party started.” Brad clinked his glass against Greg and Ryan's. All three downed their champagne in one.
*
“Ten pounds to get in?” Brad was disgusted. “You don't think that's a little extortionate?” The ticket seller looked up at Brad with wide eyes, seemingly taken aback by the comedian's superior height and broad American accent.
“Here.” Ryan nudged Brad out of the way and passed the ticket seller thirty pounds.
“Hey!” Brad protested as he followed Ryan and Greg inside. “I was bartering there.”
“This place is a bargain dude.” Greg said and pointed to a sign on the wall. Brad's heart almost jumped out of his chest as he read the words 'ten pounds – free bar' scrawled in black marker pen.
“Now you're talking.” He said, thoroughly appeased. “First round's on me.”
“What can I get you gentlemen?” The bar tender asked. “Nice to see you again Mr. Proops, Mr. Stiles.”
“Please.” Greg brushed off the formality. “It's Greg and Ryan...and tall and handsome here is Brad Sherwood, improv artist extraordinare.”
“Call me Brad.” He said with his best charming smile, hoping he wasn't blushing at the unexpected praise from Greg.
“Any chance I can convince you to get up on stage later?” The bar tender inquired hopefully as he poured the drinks. The three men exchanged looks, silently communicating. Ryan gave an answer on behalf of all of them.
“Just keep the drinks flowing and we'll see what we can do.”
It didn't take long for the drinks to get the performers completely relaxed. The place was small but obviously popular and there was a good buzz to the room. The crowd had been warmed up by a drag act that was so bad it was good and an hour of karaoke. Unable to resist the call of a spotlight and a microphone, Brad had hopped up onto the stage and serenaded Greg and Ryan with I Can't Smile Without You. His overly dramatic rendition and loose interpretation of the lyrics had his fellow improvisers and the whole crowd in fits of laughter. After such a preview the bar tender couldn't hold back any more. He got up onto the stage and took hold of the microphone.
“Is everyone having a good time?” He shouted into the mike. The crowd cheered, made merry by the free flowing alcohol and the musical stylings of Brad Sherwood. Ryan groaned and put his head in his hands, he knew what was coming. Greg squeezed Ryan's shoulder.
“Has anyone here seen a little show called Whose Line is it Anyway?” The bartender asked the crowd who responded with whoops and applause.
“Here we go.” Ryan muttered.
“You know you love it.” Greg said.
“We happen to have three of the stars from Whose Line here tonight. And they said if you cheer loud enough they just might get on stage for us. Let's here it for Brad Sherwood, Greg Proops and Ryan Stiles!” This time the crowd almost roared their approval, the sound echoed around the small room. Brad and Greg immediately bounded up on stage, waving their thanks to the crowd. Though Ryan told himself he would have much rather sat and enjoyed his drink he couldn't resist the roar of the crowd nor the gleam of excitement in the eyes of his co-improvisers. With a show of great reluctance he got to his feet and joined the others on stage. Greg held centre stage with ease. He held up his hands and the raucous crowd instantly fell under his spell, hushing as he gestured for silence.
“Good evening folks and welcome to the reduced version of Whose Line is it Anyway?” He paused as the audience burst into enthusiastic applause. Brad and Ryan exchanged a smile, a good crowd usually made for a good show. “We're gonna start out with a game called Quick Change. First, I need you to give me a relationship two people might have. Something like father and son or student and teacher.” The suggestions came thick and fast.
“Doctor and patient!”
“Cowboy and Indian!”
“Mugger and muggee!” Greg snorted at that last one and held up a hand for the suggestions to stop.
“Was that mugger and muggee?” He asked incredulously. A heavily tattooed man in the crowd nodded, a scary smile on his face. “Okay. Well I don't think muggee is a word but I'm not going to argue with someone who has that many tattoos. So, me and Ryan here are gonna play out a scene and every so often Brad is going to say 'change' and we'll have to change the last thing we said. Okay?” The last question was directed to Brad and Ryan but the crowd cheered anyway. Ryan dropped straight into character, pointing one finger at Greg as if it were a gun.
“Hold it right there.” He growled.
“Oh I say, is this a mugging?” Greg said, adopting a terribly posh English accent. “Jolly good!”
“Change.” Brad said from his position at the side of the stage.
“Oh, zis is ze mugging? Tres bien!”
“Change.”
“...dude, you suck.”
“Enough yapping.” Ryan said. “Give me all your money.” Greg reached into his back pocket and pulled out his own imaginary gun.
“Ah hah! Now who's in charge?” He crowed. Ryan raised one eyebrow. He slapped Greg's hand, watched as the imaginary gun flew through the air and caught it with a flourish. The crowd cheered.
“Well that's just cheating.” Greg said. “Why don't you tell me what you want?”
“I want you to give me that watch.”
“Change.”
“I want you to give me...a lap dance.” Greg glanced over at Brad, waiting for him to call change. The younger man simply grinned and gestured for Greg to get on with it. The San Franciscan shook his head, then mimed grabbing a pole and rolled his hips provocatively.
“Change.” Brad said, a laugh making his voice shake. Greg abandoned his pole and sauntered up to Ryan, shimmying in front of the taller performer. His moves drew laughter and cat calls from the audience.
“Change!” Greg realised Brad wasn't going to stop until he got his money's worth. He decided to throw caution to the wind. Greg grabbed Ryan's firm ass with both hands and rubbed against him, crotch to crotch. Ryan forgot his imaginary guns as his hands dropped to grope Greg in return. The audience went wild, loving the impromptu display. Brad grinned from the sidelines, rather enjoying the floor show himself. He knew that the scene had been completely lost and he should call an end to the game. And he would...maybe. In another minute. Or two.
*
“That was awesome.” Brad said as the three men stumbled out onto the street. Their set had gone well and the bar tender had invited the three of them and a few regulars to stay for a lock in. “Think we can get a cab this late?” The street seemed almost deserted. Ryan tilted back his head and looked up at the clear night sky.
“We're, what, twenty minutes from our hotel?” He said.
“I think someone wants to walk.” Greg lit a cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke in Ryan's direction. Ryan waved his hands around and gave an exaggerated cough.
“C'mon, it's not raining for a change.” Ryan cajoled. “We can show Brad the pier.” At the last sentence Ryan's voice dropped an octave and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Well now you've put it that way...” Greg dropped his cigarette to the ground and put it out with his heel. “What are we fucking waiting for?”
“You boys wanna take a ride on the Big One?” Brad couldn't resist asking, though he could sense Ryan's next comment coming a mile away.
“Don't you think you're over exaggerating?” The taller man asked with a significant glance at Brad's crotch. Brad reached down and started to undo his pants.
“You wanna take a closer look?”
“Save it, big boy.” Greg said as he grabbed Brad's arms and pulled him in the direction of the sea front. Ryan caught up with them and slung a friendly arm around each man's shoulder. The three walked along in companionable silence, enjoying the warm summer air, until they reached the pier. Ryan came to a standstill, looking with disappointment at the closed and chained gates.
“Since when did they start locking this place up?”
“Well it is late. Or early, which ever way you want to look at it.” Greg said with a shrug. “We'll come back another time.” The two of them started to walk away. They got a few paces before they realised that Brad was missing. “Brad, keep up with – What the fuck are you doing?” At Greg's exclamation Ryan turned to see Brad perched at the top of the gate, one leg on either side, a shit eating grin on his face.
“Come on up boys, the weather's lovely!” He called down to them. Greg laughed, loud and unexpected. He walked over to the gate and started to climb until he was next to Brad. The pair quickly descended until they were safely on the other side.
“I'm not climbing that.” Ryan crossed his arms over his chest.
“Aw, come on old timer. Live a little why don't ya?” Greg said, hoping that the taunt would get under Ryan's skin and make him join them. Ryan looked at the barred gate thoughtfully.
“I'm not calling the fire brigade if you get stuck, dude.” Brad said, watching with trepidation as Ryan took hold of the bars and started to squeeze his thin body through them.
“I'm really feeling the love.” Ryan grunted as he forced his head through. It was a tight fit but he got through unscathed and flashed his companions a grin. “Told you I wouldn't climb it.” He said.
“One of these day's I'm gonna force feed you doughnuts.” Greg muttered, shaking his head. Ryan couldn't stop smiling, for once feeling proud of his slender frame. A childish idea came into his head, making his green eyes dance with mischief.
“Race you to the end!” He yelled and took off running. A moment later he could hear two sets of footsteps pounding after him.
“Get back here, you cheater!” Ryan heard Brad yell. He chanced a look over his shoulder and saw that the pair weren't far behind him. He dodged around a hot dog stand and vaulted over a bench, almost losing his footing on the landing. Ryan spotted the end of the pier and forced his long legs to go even faster. He skidded to a halt and laid his hands on the rail.
“I wi – omph!” His triumphant declaration was cut short as Brad, realising too late that Ryan had stopped, barrelled into him. The momentum almost carried both of them over the railing but they were saved by Greg grabbing them both by the collar and hauling them back. The three men fell backwards onto the wooden boards of the pier all gasping for breath.
“Oh shit, you okay Ry?” Brad asked, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Ryan? Talk to us man.” Greg said when Ryan didn't respond.
“I'm okay.” Ryan wheezed, pressing one hand against his chest as he finally got his breath back. “Next time I have a dumb idea just tell me to go fuck myself, okay?” A slow smile grew on Greg's face.
“I don't think so. Can't let you have all the fun, can we Brad?”
“Doesn't sound very fair to me Greg.” Brad said, sharing that same slow smile. As both men reached for him Ryan swallowed thickly, realising he was in trouble.
“What d'ya say Stiles?” Greg said, as he made a show of unbuckling Ryan's belt. “You up for a little alfresco fun?” Brad pulled out the tails of Ryan's shirt and slid his hands underneath the fabric. His fingers ghosted across Ryan's flanks, searching out the taller man's erogenous zones. A slight hitch in Ryan's breath told him he'd succeeded. Greg pulled down Ryan's pants in one swift move, a hungry expression on his face as he eyed Ryan's half hard erection. Ryan could feel the rough wood of the boards under his ass and cast a quick glance around, looking for a friendlier surface.
“I'm up for a some fun,” Ryan's voice was deep and husky. “But we need to move this somewhere else, I'm not gonna be feeling too hot with splinters in my ass.” Brad pulled away, realising that Ryan had a good point. His eyes landed on the glossy painted surface of the rail at the edge of the pier. It was broad and flat, perfect for someone to sit on. He scrambled to his feet and held out his hands to Greg and Ryan, pulling them up.
“I think this might work.” He said, as he used his broader physique to back Ryan up against the rail. Brad could see Greg smirk out of the corner of his eye and knew he had caught on. He grabbed Ryan's waist and hoisted him up onto the rail. Ryan grinned at first until he looked over his shoulder at the drop behind him. His face quickly paled and his body swayed alarmingly. Two sets of strong arms wrapped around him, grounding him, banishing the attack of vertigo.
“We got you Ry.” Greg said, breath hot against his neck.
“We won't let you fall.” Brad murmured. Ryan felt each of them twine their hands through his and their free hands wrap firmly around his thighs. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Ryan said. He had never felt safer.
“Just keep your eyes on us, man.” Greg advised. In the next moment he bent his head and licked a wide stripe across the length of Ryan's cock. Brad grinned wickedly, licked his lips and then echoed Greg's move.
“Holy shit.” Ryan's hands tightened around Brad and Greg's. He didn't think he'd be able to tear his eyes away from the sight if his life depended on it. Brad licked the tip of Ryan's swollen member, tonguing the slit with an appreciative moan. That sound deepened when Greg joined him, his tongue caressing Brad and Ryan in turn.
“Now that's a fucking view.” Ryan said, as he stared down at the two handsome men, the star filled sky above going unnoticed. He lost the power of speech completely when Brad took his arousal into his mouth as, at the same time, Greg moved lower and mouthed the smooth skin between Ryan's shaft and balls.
“Let's make this a party.” Greg murmured against Ryan's hot skin. He removed his hand from Ryan's thigh, instead using his body weight to pin him in place. While his mouth worked the base of Ryan's arousal, his free hand reached out to seek Brad. Greg heard the younger man's muffled moan when his hand found it's target and he palmed Brad's heated erection through his jeans. Of course, Brad couldn't let the extra attention go unrewarded.
“Fuck!” Greg and Ryan swore simultaneously as Brad deep throated Ryan at the exact moment his hand dipped inside Greg's pants and wrapped around his straining arousal. Ryan squeezed down hard on his lover's hands as the exquisite sensation threatened to overwhelm him. For Greg, the feel of Brad's hand slowly pumping his erection served only to awaken his hunger. He needed something more.
“Get your fine ass over here Bradley.” Greg ordered. Brad came up for air, making the third member of their group growl his disapproval.
“Hold tight Ry.” Greg let go of Ryan's hand and pulled Brad between them. Brad gripped both of Ryan's hands and winked up at his taller lover. Now that both his hands were free Greg could make quick work of exposing Brad's said fine ass to the warm night air. He pushed down his own pants and pressed his body against Brad's, letting the younger man feel his heated erection pressing against the globes of his ass.
“Greg, just fuck the foreplay.” Brad said, his brown eyes turned almost black with lust. “Let me rephrase that: just fuck me.”
“You should put that dirty fucking mouth of yours to better use.” Greg commented. He took his cock in hand and rubbed the weeping head in circles around Brad's entrance. Brad shivered at the sensation before bending at the waist to take Ryan in his mouth once more. Ryan groaned loudly. Driven by the primal sound Greg pushed forward, filling Brad inch by delicious inch.
“How does he taste Brad? Huh? How does it feel to have two cocks buried inside you?” Greg's words combined with the sensation of being filled so completely made Brad moan deep in his throat, the vibrations travelling through Ryan's length, making him struggle for breath. Greg kept his pace steady only until he was sure that his lover could handle him. When Brad showed no sign of discomfort Greg let his own primal urges take control. He pulled out and then slammed back home, fucking Brad's tight heat with a savage intensity. The momentum forced Brad back and forth on Ryan's cock, fucking and sucking taking on a perfect synchronicity. With every thrust Greg could feel himself getting ever closer to completion. The two perfect men in front of him combined with his his own mile wide kink for exhibitionism meant he wasn't going to last long. He changed the angle of his thrusts so that he was hitting Brad's sweet spot with every pass. With one hand Greg reached around to find Brad's arousal already throbbing and slick with pre-cum. He wrapped his fingers around the thick member and pumped it in time with his thrusts.
“Oh, God that's it.” Ryan moaned the words as the talented mouth working his erection swallowed him to the hilt. When Brad tongued the thick vein on the underside of his cock, Ryan lost it. He came with a hiss of satisfaction, filling Brad's eager mouth with his release. A moment later Greg started pounding into Brad with an increased urgency, his hand a blur as he pumped his lover's erection. The friction inside and out was too much for Brad to take and he came hard over Greg's hand. Brad's body tightened and convulsed under the power of his orgasm, the sensation enough to tip Greg over the edge in turn. His hips slammed against Brad one last time as he came so hard his vision turned white.
Ryan smiled, enjoying the afterglow, his heart rate slowly starting to wind down. For a long moment he drank in the decadent image his lovers made. Dishevelled and breathless, the sight of Greg and Brad in the aftermath of love making was always intensely intimate. Ryan eventually tore his eyes away from them and looked down over the darkened pier towards the lights of the city. One light seemed to be moving closer. His green eyes widened as he realised it was the beam of a flash light, and it was heading right for them.
“Shit, gotta move.” He said, his voice hushed and urgent. In his panic Ryan tried to pull away from Brad's hold, forgetting his precarious position. His upper body started to fall backwards and Ryan squeezed his eyes shut in terror. His stomach dropped as he felt himself begin to fall. It only lasted for a moment as Brad pulled hard on his hands to reel him in to safety. Ryan's feet hit the solid boards of the pier and he took a brief moment to relish the sensation. Once the worst of the adrenaline dissipated Ryan remembered the reason he'd been trying to move in the first place. He grabbed his lover's arms and dragged them behind a popcorn stand, hushing their protests.
“What the fuck?” Brad whispered as Ryan pushed him and Greg down and crouched beside them. The three men struggled to adjust their clothes in their awkward position.
“Wait.” Ryan held one finger over his lips. Brad and Greg sat in silence, trusting Ryan completely. A moment later they heard footsteps and saw the beam of a flash light pass over their hiding place. They crouched lower, waiting with baited breath until the footsteps moved on. Greg slowly peered around the edge of the popcorn stand and saw the back of a uniformed security guard. The man was looking out over the same rail that Ryan had been perched on only moments before. The guard lit a cigarette and leaned against the railing, he looked like he was going to be there for a while. Greg gestured for his companions to follow him and started to edge away from their hiding place. The three grown men crawled on their hands and knees until the security guard was no longer in view. Then they scrambled to their feet and raced towards the exit, each trying to control the adrenaline fuelled laughter that threatened to burst forth. When they reached the gates Ryan quickly squeezed through the railings. He waited, bouncing on the balls of his feet, as the other two made the climb to safety. Once Brad had cleared the top of the gate he just let himself drop, grunting as he landed heavily. Ryan reached out a hand to steady him. Both men turned to look up at Greg who had only just made it to the top of the gate.
“Come on!” Ryan said urgently.
“Don't rush me man.” Greg made his way steadily over the top and down the other side until he joined his lovers on solid ground. “I'm getting way too old for this shit.” Ryan nodded in agreement. Brad slung his arms around their shoulders.
“Well, you boys sure know how to show a guy a good time.” He said.
“Never again.” Greg swore, though even he didn't believe it. “Next time we're just gonna stay in the hotel and make good use of the Deluxe Love Hamper.”
“Deluxe Love Hamper?” Brad said, his mind flashing back to that wicker hamper sitting in their penthouse suite. “You couldn't have mentioned that earlier?” The three men looked at each other, sexual tension returning with an intensity that was almost palpable.
“Race you to the hotel!” Ryan yelled before taking off down the road. Greg and Brad didn't hesitate before tearing after him in hot pursuit. The sleeping city came alive with the sound of pounding footsteps and joyous laughter echoing through the streets. Back on the pier a lone security guard was the only witness dawn began to break.
Author: Jie Jie
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brad/Ryan/Greg
So here's my fic for
saiya_tina who requested a Brad/Ryan/Greg fic set in the Britline era...this is my very first attempt at writing a threesome and it was a hell of a lot harder than I expected! ^_^;; I did come perilously close to trashing this but I pulled something together in the end... Comments and criticism are much appreciated! “Where the hell is he?” Ryan Stiles was full of impatience. It was five o'clock and the days taping had ended over an hour ago. He and Greg Proops were sitting in Greg's rented car, waiting for the third member of their posse. Leaning forward from the back seat, Ryan used his long arms to reach around Greg and press down hard on the horn. Greg winced at the noise and reached over his shoulder to tap Ryan on the head.
“Chill Ry.” He said. “He's probably fixing his hair or something.”
“Like you can talk.” Ryan said and went to ruffle Greg's perfectly coiffed hair. Greg batted Ryan's hands away.
“Hey! Don't mess with the do.” Ryan's hands drifted south and stroked Greg's stomach.
“Don't know why you think Helping Hands is so hard.” He murmured against Greg's ear. “We can't all be six foot six sex gods.” Greg replied, voice not at all steady as Ryan's fingers rubbed at Greg's nipples through his shirt.
“I'm here, I'm here!” The moment was lost as Brad Sherwood yanked open the car door and dropped into the passenger seat. He grinned as he spotted the compromising position of Ryan's arms, still wrapped around Greg. “Starting without me gentlemen?”
“Just keeping ourselves busy.” Ryan said, completely unrepentant. He leaned back and stretched out his long body on the rear seat of the car.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Brad was almost bouncing with pent up energy.
“Couldn't leave without you, Bad Timing Man.” Greg said dryly as he started the car.
“Oh ho ho!” Brad held up his hands and tried to look affronted. “You want me to leave just say so dude.”
“Kids, please, daddy's trying to sleep.” Ryan said. Greg snorted and rolled his eyes.
“Where the hell are you guys taking me anyway?”Brad asked.
“That, my friend, is a secret.” Greg replied as he put the car in gear and headed out onto the road. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“Boy, if I had a nickel for every time I heard that.” Brad said.
“You'd have a dime.” Ryan and Greg said at the same time. They shared a warm glance in the review mirror. Brad groaned.
“Just drive Proops.” He commanded and flicked on the radio to the most obnoxious station he could find.
*
“The seaside?” Brad raised one eyebrow as the unmistakable scent of the ocean filled the car.
“We thought it'd be good to get out of the metropolis.” Ryan said as he stretched. They turned the corner onto a narrow street. It was lined with beautiful regency town houses and down at the end of the road Brad caught sight of sunlight glinting off the ocean. Greg pulled up outside one of the houses and the three performers piled out of the car.
“Ocean View Hotel.” Brad read the sign above the door. “Sounds promising.” They filed inside with their meagre luggage and Greg was instantly greeted by a short, rotund woman with a strong Russian accent.
“Mr. Proops, welcome back.” the dour looking woman wasn't quite as intimidating with a smile on her face. She pulled Greg into a motherly hug, much to the discomfort of the San Franciscan. Brad couldn't help but snicker behind his hand.
“Uh, a little help guys?” Greg said as he tried to detach the hotelier from his person.
“You must be tired.” The woman said, thankfully taking the hint. “Here's your keys. I give you best room. You want breakfast tomorrow?”
“Any chance we could just order from our room?” Ryan queried.
“Of course. Room service will bring anything you like. Your room's top floor. You need anything, just ask.”
“Was this place built for midgets?” Brad said as the three men climbed the narrow stairway.
“Quit whining.” Greg said with a smile as they finally reached the top floor. He unlocked the door and stepped aside so his companions could enter first. “After you gentlemen.”
“Whoa.” Brad said quietly as he walked into bright, spacious and very modern penthouse suite. The large windows overlooked the ocean. There was a massive king size bed which would sleep three with ease. In the dining area there was a bottle of champagne on ice and a wicker hamper which Brad eyed curiously.
“So? Better than looking out at London traffic, huh?” Ryan said.
“You betcha.” Brad replied. “Isn't little Miss Kremlin down there gonna be a bit suspicious though? What with three guys, one bed and all.”
“Did you not see the rainbow flag in the window?” Greg gave Brad a look as he tossed his bag onto the bed and started to pull out a change of clothes.
“This is Greg's spiritual home away from home.” Ryan explained, before heading straight to the champagne.
“So, what? This is England's answer to San Francisco?” Brad couldn't help but sound dubious. The quaint little seaside town he'd glimpsed didn't much resemble the eclectic sprawl of the American city.
“Hey man, I'll take what I can get.” Greg said as he loosened his tie. “What's happening with the champagne Ry?”
“Don't rush me.” Ryan wore an expression of utmost concentration as he fought with the cork. A moment later and there was a satisfying pop. Ryan poured three glasses and passed them over to his companions.
“Here's to getting the hell out of London.” Ryan said as he held up his glass in a toast.
“I'll drink to that, man.” Greg lifted his champagne flute.
“Let's get this party started.” Brad clinked his glass against Greg and Ryan's. All three downed their champagne in one.
*
“Ten pounds to get in?” Brad was disgusted. “You don't think that's a little extortionate?” The ticket seller looked up at Brad with wide eyes, seemingly taken aback by the comedian's superior height and broad American accent.
“Here.” Ryan nudged Brad out of the way and passed the ticket seller thirty pounds.
“Hey!” Brad protested as he followed Ryan and Greg inside. “I was bartering there.”
“This place is a bargain dude.” Greg said and pointed to a sign on the wall. Brad's heart almost jumped out of his chest as he read the words 'ten pounds – free bar' scrawled in black marker pen.
“Now you're talking.” He said, thoroughly appeased. “First round's on me.”
“What can I get you gentlemen?” The bar tender asked. “Nice to see you again Mr. Proops, Mr. Stiles.”
“Please.” Greg brushed off the formality. “It's Greg and Ryan...and tall and handsome here is Brad Sherwood, improv artist extraordinare.”
“Call me Brad.” He said with his best charming smile, hoping he wasn't blushing at the unexpected praise from Greg.
“Any chance I can convince you to get up on stage later?” The bar tender inquired hopefully as he poured the drinks. The three men exchanged looks, silently communicating. Ryan gave an answer on behalf of all of them.
“Just keep the drinks flowing and we'll see what we can do.”
It didn't take long for the drinks to get the performers completely relaxed. The place was small but obviously popular and there was a good buzz to the room. The crowd had been warmed up by a drag act that was so bad it was good and an hour of karaoke. Unable to resist the call of a spotlight and a microphone, Brad had hopped up onto the stage and serenaded Greg and Ryan with I Can't Smile Without You. His overly dramatic rendition and loose interpretation of the lyrics had his fellow improvisers and the whole crowd in fits of laughter. After such a preview the bar tender couldn't hold back any more. He got up onto the stage and took hold of the microphone.
“Is everyone having a good time?” He shouted into the mike. The crowd cheered, made merry by the free flowing alcohol and the musical stylings of Brad Sherwood. Ryan groaned and put his head in his hands, he knew what was coming. Greg squeezed Ryan's shoulder.
“Has anyone here seen a little show called Whose Line is it Anyway?” The bartender asked the crowd who responded with whoops and applause.
“Here we go.” Ryan muttered.
“You know you love it.” Greg said.
“We happen to have three of the stars from Whose Line here tonight. And they said if you cheer loud enough they just might get on stage for us. Let's here it for Brad Sherwood, Greg Proops and Ryan Stiles!” This time the crowd almost roared their approval, the sound echoed around the small room. Brad and Greg immediately bounded up on stage, waving their thanks to the crowd. Though Ryan told himself he would have much rather sat and enjoyed his drink he couldn't resist the roar of the crowd nor the gleam of excitement in the eyes of his co-improvisers. With a show of great reluctance he got to his feet and joined the others on stage. Greg held centre stage with ease. He held up his hands and the raucous crowd instantly fell under his spell, hushing as he gestured for silence.
“Good evening folks and welcome to the reduced version of Whose Line is it Anyway?” He paused as the audience burst into enthusiastic applause. Brad and Ryan exchanged a smile, a good crowd usually made for a good show. “We're gonna start out with a game called Quick Change. First, I need you to give me a relationship two people might have. Something like father and son or student and teacher.” The suggestions came thick and fast.
“Doctor and patient!”
“Cowboy and Indian!”
“Mugger and muggee!” Greg snorted at that last one and held up a hand for the suggestions to stop.
“Was that mugger and muggee?” He asked incredulously. A heavily tattooed man in the crowd nodded, a scary smile on his face. “Okay. Well I don't think muggee is a word but I'm not going to argue with someone who has that many tattoos. So, me and Ryan here are gonna play out a scene and every so often Brad is going to say 'change' and we'll have to change the last thing we said. Okay?” The last question was directed to Brad and Ryan but the crowd cheered anyway. Ryan dropped straight into character, pointing one finger at Greg as if it were a gun.
“Hold it right there.” He growled.
“Oh I say, is this a mugging?” Greg said, adopting a terribly posh English accent. “Jolly good!”
“Change.” Brad said from his position at the side of the stage.
“Oh, zis is ze mugging? Tres bien!”
“Change.”
“...dude, you suck.”
“Enough yapping.” Ryan said. “Give me all your money.” Greg reached into his back pocket and pulled out his own imaginary gun.
“Ah hah! Now who's in charge?” He crowed. Ryan raised one eyebrow. He slapped Greg's hand, watched as the imaginary gun flew through the air and caught it with a flourish. The crowd cheered.
“Well that's just cheating.” Greg said. “Why don't you tell me what you want?”
“I want you to give me that watch.”
“Change.”
“I want you to give me...a lap dance.” Greg glanced over at Brad, waiting for him to call change. The younger man simply grinned and gestured for Greg to get on with it. The San Franciscan shook his head, then mimed grabbing a pole and rolled his hips provocatively.
“Change.” Brad said, a laugh making his voice shake. Greg abandoned his pole and sauntered up to Ryan, shimmying in front of the taller performer. His moves drew laughter and cat calls from the audience.
“Change!” Greg realised Brad wasn't going to stop until he got his money's worth. He decided to throw caution to the wind. Greg grabbed Ryan's firm ass with both hands and rubbed against him, crotch to crotch. Ryan forgot his imaginary guns as his hands dropped to grope Greg in return. The audience went wild, loving the impromptu display. Brad grinned from the sidelines, rather enjoying the floor show himself. He knew that the scene had been completely lost and he should call an end to the game. And he would...maybe. In another minute. Or two.
*
“That was awesome.” Brad said as the three men stumbled out onto the street. Their set had gone well and the bar tender had invited the three of them and a few regulars to stay for a lock in. “Think we can get a cab this late?” The street seemed almost deserted. Ryan tilted back his head and looked up at the clear night sky.
“We're, what, twenty minutes from our hotel?” He said.
“I think someone wants to walk.” Greg lit a cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke in Ryan's direction. Ryan waved his hands around and gave an exaggerated cough.
“C'mon, it's not raining for a change.” Ryan cajoled. “We can show Brad the pier.” At the last sentence Ryan's voice dropped an octave and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Well now you've put it that way...” Greg dropped his cigarette to the ground and put it out with his heel. “What are we fucking waiting for?”
“You boys wanna take a ride on the Big One?” Brad couldn't resist asking, though he could sense Ryan's next comment coming a mile away.
“Don't you think you're over exaggerating?” The taller man asked with a significant glance at Brad's crotch. Brad reached down and started to undo his pants.
“You wanna take a closer look?”
“Save it, big boy.” Greg said as he grabbed Brad's arms and pulled him in the direction of the sea front. Ryan caught up with them and slung a friendly arm around each man's shoulder. The three walked along in companionable silence, enjoying the warm summer air, until they reached the pier. Ryan came to a standstill, looking with disappointment at the closed and chained gates.
“Since when did they start locking this place up?”
“Well it is late. Or early, which ever way you want to look at it.” Greg said with a shrug. “We'll come back another time.” The two of them started to walk away. They got a few paces before they realised that Brad was missing. “Brad, keep up with – What the fuck are you doing?” At Greg's exclamation Ryan turned to see Brad perched at the top of the gate, one leg on either side, a shit eating grin on his face.
“Come on up boys, the weather's lovely!” He called down to them. Greg laughed, loud and unexpected. He walked over to the gate and started to climb until he was next to Brad. The pair quickly descended until they were safely on the other side.
“I'm not climbing that.” Ryan crossed his arms over his chest.
“Aw, come on old timer. Live a little why don't ya?” Greg said, hoping that the taunt would get under Ryan's skin and make him join them. Ryan looked at the barred gate thoughtfully.
“I'm not calling the fire brigade if you get stuck, dude.” Brad said, watching with trepidation as Ryan took hold of the bars and started to squeeze his thin body through them.
“I'm really feeling the love.” Ryan grunted as he forced his head through. It was a tight fit but he got through unscathed and flashed his companions a grin. “Told you I wouldn't climb it.” He said.
“One of these day's I'm gonna force feed you doughnuts.” Greg muttered, shaking his head. Ryan couldn't stop smiling, for once feeling proud of his slender frame. A childish idea came into his head, making his green eyes dance with mischief.
“Race you to the end!” He yelled and took off running. A moment later he could hear two sets of footsteps pounding after him.
“Get back here, you cheater!” Ryan heard Brad yell. He chanced a look over his shoulder and saw that the pair weren't far behind him. He dodged around a hot dog stand and vaulted over a bench, almost losing his footing on the landing. Ryan spotted the end of the pier and forced his long legs to go even faster. He skidded to a halt and laid his hands on the rail.
“I wi – omph!” His triumphant declaration was cut short as Brad, realising too late that Ryan had stopped, barrelled into him. The momentum almost carried both of them over the railing but they were saved by Greg grabbing them both by the collar and hauling them back. The three men fell backwards onto the wooden boards of the pier all gasping for breath.
“Oh shit, you okay Ry?” Brad asked, his brow furrowed with concern.
“Ryan? Talk to us man.” Greg said when Ryan didn't respond.
“I'm okay.” Ryan wheezed, pressing one hand against his chest as he finally got his breath back. “Next time I have a dumb idea just tell me to go fuck myself, okay?” A slow smile grew on Greg's face.
“I don't think so. Can't let you have all the fun, can we Brad?”
“Doesn't sound very fair to me Greg.” Brad said, sharing that same slow smile. As both men reached for him Ryan swallowed thickly, realising he was in trouble.
“What d'ya say Stiles?” Greg said, as he made a show of unbuckling Ryan's belt. “You up for a little alfresco fun?” Brad pulled out the tails of Ryan's shirt and slid his hands underneath the fabric. His fingers ghosted across Ryan's flanks, searching out the taller man's erogenous zones. A slight hitch in Ryan's breath told him he'd succeeded. Greg pulled down Ryan's pants in one swift move, a hungry expression on his face as he eyed Ryan's half hard erection. Ryan could feel the rough wood of the boards under his ass and cast a quick glance around, looking for a friendlier surface.
“I'm up for a some fun,” Ryan's voice was deep and husky. “But we need to move this somewhere else, I'm not gonna be feeling too hot with splinters in my ass.” Brad pulled away, realising that Ryan had a good point. His eyes landed on the glossy painted surface of the rail at the edge of the pier. It was broad and flat, perfect for someone to sit on. He scrambled to his feet and held out his hands to Greg and Ryan, pulling them up.
“I think this might work.” He said, as he used his broader physique to back Ryan up against the rail. Brad could see Greg smirk out of the corner of his eye and knew he had caught on. He grabbed Ryan's waist and hoisted him up onto the rail. Ryan grinned at first until he looked over his shoulder at the drop behind him. His face quickly paled and his body swayed alarmingly. Two sets of strong arms wrapped around him, grounding him, banishing the attack of vertigo.
“We got you Ry.” Greg said, breath hot against his neck.
“We won't let you fall.” Brad murmured. Ryan felt each of them twine their hands through his and their free hands wrap firmly around his thighs. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Ryan said. He had never felt safer.
“Just keep your eyes on us, man.” Greg advised. In the next moment he bent his head and licked a wide stripe across the length of Ryan's cock. Brad grinned wickedly, licked his lips and then echoed Greg's move.
“Holy shit.” Ryan's hands tightened around Brad and Greg's. He didn't think he'd be able to tear his eyes away from the sight if his life depended on it. Brad licked the tip of Ryan's swollen member, tonguing the slit with an appreciative moan. That sound deepened when Greg joined him, his tongue caressing Brad and Ryan in turn.
“Now that's a fucking view.” Ryan said, as he stared down at the two handsome men, the star filled sky above going unnoticed. He lost the power of speech completely when Brad took his arousal into his mouth as, at the same time, Greg moved lower and mouthed the smooth skin between Ryan's shaft and balls.
“Let's make this a party.” Greg murmured against Ryan's hot skin. He removed his hand from Ryan's thigh, instead using his body weight to pin him in place. While his mouth worked the base of Ryan's arousal, his free hand reached out to seek Brad. Greg heard the younger man's muffled moan when his hand found it's target and he palmed Brad's heated erection through his jeans. Of course, Brad couldn't let the extra attention go unrewarded.
“Fuck!” Greg and Ryan swore simultaneously as Brad deep throated Ryan at the exact moment his hand dipped inside Greg's pants and wrapped around his straining arousal. Ryan squeezed down hard on his lover's hands as the exquisite sensation threatened to overwhelm him. For Greg, the feel of Brad's hand slowly pumping his erection served only to awaken his hunger. He needed something more.
“Get your fine ass over here Bradley.” Greg ordered. Brad came up for air, making the third member of their group growl his disapproval.
“Hold tight Ry.” Greg let go of Ryan's hand and pulled Brad between them. Brad gripped both of Ryan's hands and winked up at his taller lover. Now that both his hands were free Greg could make quick work of exposing Brad's said fine ass to the warm night air. He pushed down his own pants and pressed his body against Brad's, letting the younger man feel his heated erection pressing against the globes of his ass.
“Greg, just fuck the foreplay.” Brad said, his brown eyes turned almost black with lust. “Let me rephrase that: just fuck me.”
“You should put that dirty fucking mouth of yours to better use.” Greg commented. He took his cock in hand and rubbed the weeping head in circles around Brad's entrance. Brad shivered at the sensation before bending at the waist to take Ryan in his mouth once more. Ryan groaned loudly. Driven by the primal sound Greg pushed forward, filling Brad inch by delicious inch.
“How does he taste Brad? Huh? How does it feel to have two cocks buried inside you?” Greg's words combined with the sensation of being filled so completely made Brad moan deep in his throat, the vibrations travelling through Ryan's length, making him struggle for breath. Greg kept his pace steady only until he was sure that his lover could handle him. When Brad showed no sign of discomfort Greg let his own primal urges take control. He pulled out and then slammed back home, fucking Brad's tight heat with a savage intensity. The momentum forced Brad back and forth on Ryan's cock, fucking and sucking taking on a perfect synchronicity. With every thrust Greg could feel himself getting ever closer to completion. The two perfect men in front of him combined with his his own mile wide kink for exhibitionism meant he wasn't going to last long. He changed the angle of his thrusts so that he was hitting Brad's sweet spot with every pass. With one hand Greg reached around to find Brad's arousal already throbbing and slick with pre-cum. He wrapped his fingers around the thick member and pumped it in time with his thrusts.
“Oh, God that's it.” Ryan moaned the words as the talented mouth working his erection swallowed him to the hilt. When Brad tongued the thick vein on the underside of his cock, Ryan lost it. He came with a hiss of satisfaction, filling Brad's eager mouth with his release. A moment later Greg started pounding into Brad with an increased urgency, his hand a blur as he pumped his lover's erection. The friction inside and out was too much for Brad to take and he came hard over Greg's hand. Brad's body tightened and convulsed under the power of his orgasm, the sensation enough to tip Greg over the edge in turn. His hips slammed against Brad one last time as he came so hard his vision turned white.
Ryan smiled, enjoying the afterglow, his heart rate slowly starting to wind down. For a long moment he drank in the decadent image his lovers made. Dishevelled and breathless, the sight of Greg and Brad in the aftermath of love making was always intensely intimate. Ryan eventually tore his eyes away from them and looked down over the darkened pier towards the lights of the city. One light seemed to be moving closer. His green eyes widened as he realised it was the beam of a flash light, and it was heading right for them.
“Shit, gotta move.” He said, his voice hushed and urgent. In his panic Ryan tried to pull away from Brad's hold, forgetting his precarious position. His upper body started to fall backwards and Ryan squeezed his eyes shut in terror. His stomach dropped as he felt himself begin to fall. It only lasted for a moment as Brad pulled hard on his hands to reel him in to safety. Ryan's feet hit the solid boards of the pier and he took a brief moment to relish the sensation. Once the worst of the adrenaline dissipated Ryan remembered the reason he'd been trying to move in the first place. He grabbed his lover's arms and dragged them behind a popcorn stand, hushing their protests.
“What the fuck?” Brad whispered as Ryan pushed him and Greg down and crouched beside them. The three men struggled to adjust their clothes in their awkward position.
“Wait.” Ryan held one finger over his lips. Brad and Greg sat in silence, trusting Ryan completely. A moment later they heard footsteps and saw the beam of a flash light pass over their hiding place. They crouched lower, waiting with baited breath until the footsteps moved on. Greg slowly peered around the edge of the popcorn stand and saw the back of a uniformed security guard. The man was looking out over the same rail that Ryan had been perched on only moments before. The guard lit a cigarette and leaned against the railing, he looked like he was going to be there for a while. Greg gestured for his companions to follow him and started to edge away from their hiding place. The three grown men crawled on their hands and knees until the security guard was no longer in view. Then they scrambled to their feet and raced towards the exit, each trying to control the adrenaline fuelled laughter that threatened to burst forth. When they reached the gates Ryan quickly squeezed through the railings. He waited, bouncing on the balls of his feet, as the other two made the climb to safety. Once Brad had cleared the top of the gate he just let himself drop, grunting as he landed heavily. Ryan reached out a hand to steady him. Both men turned to look up at Greg who had only just made it to the top of the gate.
“Come on!” Ryan said urgently.
“Don't rush me man.” Greg made his way steadily over the top and down the other side until he joined his lovers on solid ground. “I'm getting way too old for this shit.” Ryan nodded in agreement. Brad slung his arms around their shoulders.
“Well, you boys sure know how to show a guy a good time.” He said.
“Never again.” Greg swore, though even he didn't believe it. “Next time we're just gonna stay in the hotel and make good use of the Deluxe Love Hamper.”
“Deluxe Love Hamper?” Brad said, his mind flashing back to that wicker hamper sitting in their penthouse suite. “You couldn't have mentioned that earlier?” The three men looked at each other, sexual tension returning with an intensity that was almost palpable.
“Race you to the hotel!” Ryan yelled before taking off down the road. Greg and Brad didn't hesitate before tearing after him in hot pursuit. The sleeping city came alive with the sound of pounding footsteps and joyous laughter echoing through the streets. Back on the pier a lone security guard was the only witness dawn began to break.
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Date: 2010-09-30 12:40 am (UTC)~ Glyph
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Date: 2010-09-30 06:39 pm (UTC)