[Summer's End Fic Xchange for Jie_Jie]

[nanadiva.livejournal.com]

Well, it's the 29th, and I haven't been guessed yet, so I guess this is SUPRISE to Jie_Jie, cause I wrote this for you. I really hope you liked it! 

Title: Wonderful Feeling
Author: Nanadiva
Pairing: Greg/Clive
Rating: PG-13 to be safe

I just realized how fluffy this is. Gads I'm sappy!

The show that night was wonderful. It was an end season taping, starring the usual – Steve Frost, Greg Proops, Ryan Stiles, and Tony Slattery, as well as their musician Richard Vranch and host Clive Anderson, of course. Everyone was having a ball that night. The audience was lively, everyone on stage was having a ball, hell, even their prick of a producer Dan Patterson was having fun, allowing some of the more racy comments slide under the radar tonight. It couldn’t get any better.

Except, maybe for Clive. After the show, everyone was gabbing backstage, still giddy from their exuberant performances. They were chatting away about this and that, loud laughter encircling them all. Dan passed by, congratulating everyone on a fantastic taping that evening, and that he’ll see them all in a few weeks for the next season. Everyone was still high on the rush of performing, and decided to go to one of the local bars and have a “darned good time!”, as Greg stated.

Just as everyone was getting ready to leave, a huge downpour came down upon them all. Everyone rushed to their cars, holding newspapers and jackets over their heads to keep dry. Except Clive. He was used to the odd, rainy weather of England, and settled for just waltzing out into the heavy rain. It trickled down him face, soaking his blonde hair (whatever little else was left, anyways) and causing a small smile to cross his lips. He really did enjoy the rain. Letting the water wash off the day’s hard work, cleaning his heart, his mind, his soul…

“You just gonna stand in the rain like a daft fool, or do you want a ride to the pub?” A familiar voice startled Clive out of his thoughts. Greg was sitting in his car, the driver’s side door open, sitting sideways on the seat. Clive looked at him with a questioning look – had his feet taken him to Greg’s car? Because he certainly wasn’t paying attention to them.

“Um, yeah sure, I could use the lift. Thanks,” Clive said, stumbling over his words a bit. Greg liked that about Clive. That every time they were together alone, Clive was as jittery as a chipmunk, and just as adorable. Greg’s signature smirk crossed his face, never parting his eyes from the soaking British gentleman that wandered around to the other side of his car. Plopping in with a squish sound, Clive wiped some of the rainwater off his face with a handkerchief. Greg’s smile stood strong, as he turned the key in the ignition and drove off to meet with the rest of their friends.

Upon arrival, the weather had not bothered to die down, a heavy downpour beating on the windshield of Greg’s car. Clive hopped out, taking in a deep breath of the air around him. It was earthy, which was a nice change compared to the usual city smell, and it was fresh. Clive felt like it was rejuvenating his skin, healing his body…

“Hey, you silly sod, come on inside for Christ’s sake before you catch hypothermia or something,” Greg called from under the pub’s trellis, waving Clive to follow him. Turning on a heel, Clive quickly followed Greg into the bar where they all would hang out after tapings. It was dark, warm, the scent of alcohol was a bit overwhelming, but it was a comfortable smell. The duo had been the last to arrive, their friends calling them over from a booth nestled along the wall across from the bar. The others had already ordered their drinks of choice, and before making his own order, Clive held his hand out to Greg, cupping it as it rested on the table.

“I wasn’t planning on having an awful lot of beers tonight. I’ll drive you home, Greg. It’s the least I can do for you, since you drove me here and all,” Clive said, beckoning for Greg’s keys again. Greg gave him a curious look, but allowed the Englishman to take his keys. If Clive was gonna let him get as drunk as a skunk, then who was he to ignore his generosity?

As the night went on and the beers came flowing, the storm outside continued to beat down upon the fair city. It was roughly 12am, and Tony and Richard were the first to leave. No one was surprised by this.

“They’ve been getting awful cozy, don’t you think?” Steve asked, lightly buzzed from the alcohol. It was getting to be more of a common occurrence, seeing those two together. It didn’t bother any of them, no. In fact, they were quite happy for the pair. Bets had been tossed back and forth, seeing who would ask who first, and to most everyone’s surprise, Richard had made the first move. And Tony had been more than elated ever since.

“Yeah, anyone know when the hell the wedding is?” Greg asked, bursting out in a hardy laughter that sent chills down Clive’s spine. Greg’s laugh was utterly contagious, and soon the other three were joining in, laughing for no real reason. As their laughter faded, the bartender reminded them it was 2am – closing time. Everyone got up, hugging each other as they walked out into the harsh rain.

Clive stood out in the rain again, letting the cool water soothe his cheeks. He couldn’t stop smiling, everyone sharing stories of past seasons and past scenarios, making the others laugh hysterically as the story was told, beer or no beer. Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back, allowing heavy droplets to barrage his whole face in crisp, clean…

“Sweetheart, are you just gonna stand out there all night, or are you gonna drive me home? Cause I certainly can’t do it,” Greg said, his words slightly slurred from the large intake of alcohol he’d had. Clive let a few more rain drops hit his face in attempts to remove the bright red flush that had now appeared on his cheeks. Greg only called him pet names when he was drunk, but it still made butterflies swirl around in his stomach. Shaking his head, Clive climbed into the driver’s seat, preparing to take Greg home for the evening.

The drive home was quiet, the sound of rain beating the roof of the car, as well as Greg’s slow breathing, were the only noises made in the 15 minutes it took to get from point A to point B. But the whole way there, Clive knew that Greg was staring at him, his cocoa eyes never wavering from his person. Clive didn’t feel awkward though. He was comforted, in a way, knowing that Greg couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off him.
As Clive pulled into Greg’s driveway, he glanced over at Greg, who was still looking at him.

“Is there something I can do for you before I take my leave, Mr. Proops?” Clive asked innocently enough. But innocent questions will be flipped, in the mind of a drunken Greg, and Clive really hadn’t expected the response he got in return.

“Yeah. Don’t take leave,” Greg said simply, blinking softly. Clive felt his heart stop at the request, his face contorting into a look of confusion. His mind was racing with a thousand different responses, but he finally settled on one in particular that sounded very, very appealing.

“Alright,” was all he said, Clive’s own blue eyes locking with Greg’s chocolate ones. He stepped out in the rain to gather Greg, helping him up the steps and inside his townhouse. Flicking on the lights, Clive guided Greg up another set of stairs leading to his bedroom. Clive swallowed hard, feeling his heart beat loudly against his chest. He pushed the door open, revealing a very plush room, full of warm colours and soothing lights. The bed stood out the most, being in the middle. It was circular, with plenty of fashionable, faux fur covers and pillows strewn about.

“You just gonna stare or come in, beautiful?” Greg cooed, having left Clive’s side in favour of a cozy bed. Clive could hear his heart pounding heavily in his head, but shook it off, stepping in the small sanctuary. Apparently while Clive was distracted with the scenery, Greg had taken off all his damp clothes, leaving him only in boxer shorts hidden under faux-leopard covers. Clive watched Greg’s facial expressions change from seductive to sleepy, as he let out a rather large yawn.

A crack of thunder made Clive jump, startling him into Greg’s room. Greg couldn’t help but laugh a little at the sight. Clive’s innocent demeanor, as well as those sparkling blue eyes, were super-attractive qualities in his eyes. And he liked to tease the Englishman a bit, calling him “sweetheart” and “beautiful” as well as the occasional “sexy” when he was feeling really drunk. But tonight was not going to get that complicated. Not yet. He was only starting, after all.

Taking after Greg, Clive removed some of his damper clothes. He kept his pants on, not entirely comfortable with taking them off yet, but otherwise he was relatively naked. Tossing the pile of wet clothes that had accumulated over the shower bar, Clive returned to find Greg laying comfortably on his circular bed, yet close to one side, as if beckoning Clive to lay with him. Swallowing hard, Clive called Greg’s bluff, slowly laying himself down on top of soft, exotic looking furs. He relaxed a little, still in belief that Greg was asleep, and allowed himself to close his eyes.

Suddenly, they were flung open again as he felt a presence on top of him, nay, on top of his lips. Greg had swiftly snuck over, placing a soft kiss on Clive’s lips. Clive wanted to move, he wanted to jerk away, flinging Greg on the floor, asking what on earth he thought he was doing, but instead, let himself be lulled by the kiss. Clive pushed back slightly, letting Greg know it was alright. He felt the kiss deepen, as Greg readjusted himself to straddle Clive. A low grumble from Clive let Greg know that Clive was ok with this, with him. And even though he was a bit drunk, he knew this was right.

Clive jumped slightly again as another loud boom of thunder rolled in, forcing the kiss to be broken. They giggled lightly at each other, Greg planting soft kisses along Clive’s chest. The British man let his eyes flutter closed again, taking in everything around him. The smell of Greg’s cologne (which just barely outdid the alcohol), the feel of smooth lips against his bare chest, the taste that could only be described by his name as a tongue flitted in his mouth, exploring what there was to offer. Clive was so wrapped up in all these new sensations, he’d completely forgotten about the raging storm outside.

Needing a break for air, Greg slid off of Clive, curling up next to the blonde, putting a protective arm around his waist. He lightly kissed his shoulder and arm, before letting the alcohol set in, putting him into a comfortable sleep. Clive turned his head to face Greg, smiling down at the brunette. It was a wonderful feeling, lying here, snuggled close to someone he truly cared about. He let his own eyes settle closed, but just before he let himself drift off to sleep, his kissed the top of Greg’s head.

“I love you,” Clive whispered softly into curly brown locks. And as Clive finally let sleep overtake him, he swore he heard Greg say, “I love you too.”