wl_fanfiction | (no subject)

Late night and a Whose Line UK marathon inspired this. I don't know how coherent it is, it was written at like 3:30 am...

Title: Stillness
Pairing: Clive/Greg
Disclaimer: Not mine.

It was quiet now. But then, maybe it had always been quiet and he had never noticed. The absence of sound made him just the smallest bit tense, making him exhale harder through his nose trying to create a sound that filled the room.

He couldn’t move. For the first time in his life, Greg was absolutely still. And it was remarkable.

Of all people, Greg never would have expected Clive to be the one who broke him. Who ripped away the facade he had painstakingly built through years of indefinable and indescribable torture. He didn’t think it was possible to have all that ripped to shreds in a matter of minutes.

He had tried to stay away. To be the good little boy he always wanted to be. He failed magnificently.

Beautiful. Only Clive would think that of Greg. He called him that constantly. Greg never accepted it; he would just laugh it off. He wished he had taken the compliment more seriously. He wished he had taken any comment of his more seriously. Maybe then this whole dance wouldn’t have been so drawn out. Maybe then they wouldn’t have had to wait until the last possible moment.

He needed a cigarette. Hell, he needed a whole pack but he wasn’t about to get up and leave. He wasn’t going to leave. Not now… he couldn’t.

He didn’t expect this to happen. Well, maybe he did but he wasn’t intent on admitting it. Sure he instigated the situation but he never had the guts to go further. He liked to be in control and he wasn’t anymore. He liked having the upper hand and he lost it.

But it did feel awfully nice just to doze off in his arms, with Greg trying his hardest to think up a witty comeback about the last thing Clive had said. He would have been quicker to reply if he wasn’t already busy repeating a line in his head.

They don’t have you in America.

He wasn’t going to cry.