[FIC] Love and Sex 2/8

[clayangel.livejournal.com]

Title: Love and Sex
Author: Clay
Pairings: Mainly Chip/Wayne and Chip/Drew, but there’s also Wayne/Drew, Ryan/Colin, Greg/Brad, and a mention of Greg/Ryan. Yes, my little Whose Line soap opera. Chip’s POV
Rating/Warnings: I’m going to say R, maybe NC-17 at times for cursing and sexual situations
Summary: “They had been friends who had taken to helping each other out with certain problems when they were away from their wives. Add feelings to the mix, however, and the situation would become far more complicated.”
Author’s notes: This is a little AU in the fact that Greg isn’t married, Chip is but has no children, and certain other things take place later than they really did. All games aside from those from episode 227 are straight out of my head.




I woke the next morning with the sun in my eyes and an absolutely splitting headache. I groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over my head. The ache abated to a dull thrum, but it was still too painful for me to even image going back to sleep. I considered checking the time, but that would mean having to deal with the sun again. Why didn’t I close the curtains before going to bed?

Just then the phone rang and I groaned, burying deeper into the covers. Each trill was like a rail spike driving into my skull. Finally it stopped and I relaxed minutely, that is, until the phone began to ring again a few seconds later. Persistent bastard. I squirmed my hand out from beneath the covers, reaching blindly for the source of my discomfort.

I felt a small sense of triumph in actually finding and lifting the receiver. I was seriously considering just hanging the phone back up, but whoever was on the other end would most likely just call back. I tugged the receiver under the blanket and placed it against my ear.

“H-hello?”

“Morning, Sunshine ”

Oh. My. God. Not a voice I needed to hear first thing in the morning, especially when suffering from a hangover.

“Jesus, Greg,” I ground out, “Can you tone it down?”

“Whoops, sorry.” He laughed, short and sharp, and no quieter.

I figured the best way to deal with him was to find out what in the Hell he wanted and then get rid of him.

“Did you need something?”

“Yes ” he barked. “Get dressed. We’re going out.”

“Fuck no. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sure you are,” he laughed again and hung up.

Well shit. It sounded like I was going to have a whole day of Greg regardless of whether I wanted it. I forced myself out of bed. The headache, while still there, wasn’t bothering me so much. Instead it was replaced by a strange, fuzzy feeling as if I were trying to function inside a ball of cotton.

From his abrupt departure I assumed Greg would be coming over. I performed my morning rituals, using the toilet and brushing my teeth in an attempt to get the horrid taste of stale tequila out of my mouth. I knew I didn’t have time to shower, but that could wait. It was just as well since the moment I finished rinsing out my mouth there was a knock on the door.

A slightly muffled cry of “Wake up, sleepy head ” reached my ears, and I moved to let Greg in. I still wasn’t ready to deal with him, but once he was inside he’d most likely stop yelling—or I’d strangle him.

Thank God for small miracles, for when I opened the door, not only did Greg quiet down, but he was holding out a couple of Excedrin and one of those glasses you find in any hotel room you’ve ever stayed in filled with water.

I let him in with a nod of gratitude, taking the items and downing the pills before the door had even shut. I mumbled something about needing a shower and Greg accepted that, seemingly more interested in snooping through my things. The water felt fabulous coursing down my skin; by the time I slipped back into the main room, a towel slung around my waist, I was feeling almost normal. Greg had gone through my clothes and laid out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt for me as well as undergarments.

I dressed in silence. Now that my head had cleared somewhat the earlier dread I had felt at the thought of going out had disappeared, and now I was just curious as to where Greg would take me. He kept checking his watch.

“So where are we going?”

It had been some time since either of us had spoken and my sudden question seemed to startle Greg. He recovered quickly, throwing me a mysterious smile and simply saying, “You’ll see. We’d better hurry, though, or we’ll never get in.”

I accepted this, pulling on socks and shoes as quickly as I could. We caught a cab, and I was more than a little surprised to hear Greg rattle off the address of the studio.

I blinked at him. “What are we...?”

Greg smiled. “We’re going to go watch today’s taping.”

“Okay.... Why?”

It seemed so random, and oddly enough, a bit thrilling. From the way Greg had spoken I assumed we’d be getting in with the rest of the audience rather than going back stage. It was deliciously devious, the thought that we’d be watching our coworkers without their knowledge.

As we approached the already quite long line formed outside the studio, I took a moment to think that we’d have done well to disguise ourselves. Greg didn’t seemed concerned, though, and just then, walking through the lot with the sun warming my face, hands shoved in my front pockets, I found I wasn’t concerned either.

We took our place at the back of the line without being noticed. The girls before us were huddled in a tight group, absorbed in conversation. Before them was an elderly couple who glanced our way, but otherwise paid us little mind. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a security guard approach us.

“Do you have tickets?”

“Ah...” I turned to Greg. “We don’t, do we?”

“Crap.” Greg frowned. “I forgot about that.” We both turned to the guard to find her staring at us, obviously confused.

“Wait...” She shook her head. “But aren’t you...?”

I smiled. “Probably. Is that a problem?”

“No, of course not.” She was looking more and more confused. “But what are you–“

“We came to watch the show like everyone else,” Greg cut in.

“Oh.” That seemed to satisfy her. She turned, pointing a little ways away. “The stage entrance is–“

“We can’t wait in line?” Greg asked, cutting her off for the second time.

The woman turned back to us, frowning. “Well...” She looked around, spotted another guard and waved him over. “Mr. Eston and Mr. Proops are here,” she told him, indicating us.

He gave a succinct nod and turned to us. “The stage entrance–“

“We don’t want the stage entrance,” Greg said. His patience was wearing thin and it was showing.

“Oh.”

I couldn’t help it; I started to laugh. Was it really so strange for us to want to be treated like normal people?

“Hey,” I said, catching everyone’s attention. “We just want to sit in the audience and watch the show.” When that didn’t convince them I decided the truth might be the best way to go. I sighed. “Look, we don’t want the other guys to know we’re here, okay? It’s sort of a surprise.” That, unfortunately, did nothing to gain their trust. I raised my hands defensively. “We’re not going to do anything weird or disruptive. We just want to watch. Why is that so odd?”

It seemed nothing I could say would convince them, but after another moment they relented nonetheless, handing us tickets and moving away. The female guard kept throwing us strange looks, but I saw no evidence that either she or the male guard were going to give us away.

However, that conversation did manage to attract the attention of the group of girls. A petite red head was turned toward us, mouth hanging open.

I smiled at her. “Hi.”

She was silent for just another second before letting out a high pitched “Oh my God ” followed by a rambling diatribe about how much she adored us. Needless to say news travels fast, and we spent the rest of the time in line signing autographs and conversing with the fans.

I, for one, enjoyed these moments. I was by no means some huge celebrity, and to get the attention, however slight and far between, was always nice. Surprisingly, Greg seemed to be enjoying it as much as I was. I must admit that I didn’t know Greg exceptionally well, but from what little I did know, he didn’t seem the type to cater to simpering fan girls. On the other hand he had pretty much set himself up for this so he had to be in the mood for it.

Most of the conversations revolved around the regulars of the cast: fans wanting to know awfully personal information about Wayne, Drew, Ryan and Colin. I’d accepted long ago that I wasn’t and never would be the most popular guy on Whose Line, not that I didn’t have my fair share of fans, and answered their questions as politely and honestly as I could.

One of the most amusing questions came from the groups of girls before us in line. I had thought they had exhausted their curiosity some time ago when suddenly two of them broke away to approach Greg and I expectantly, waiting patiently as we signed autographs for other fans. It was the red head again, blushing nervously as she stood alongside a taller blond girl. As soon as there was a pause in the onslaught, the blond stepped forward, catching our attention.

“Are Ryan and Colin a couple?” she asked without preamble, voice strong and sure.

I was a little thrown at her boldness, but Greg just started laughing.

“What do you think?”

She stared at him, eyes boring into his in an apparent attempt to read his mind. Suddenly her shoulders slumped and she sighed. “Probably not.”

“Really?” Greg asked, grinning devilishly. “Because I always thought they were.”

I chuckled then. He was telling the truth, but the girl looked utterly lost, having no idea just what to believe. “You do?” she asked, sounding far less assured than only a minute ago.

I felt obligated to intercede, to tell her that no, Ryan and Colin were just friends... but I couldn’t. It would be a lie. At the same time, however, I had no right to out my friends.

“Oh, yeah,” Greg was saying, really getting into it. “Don’t you see the way they’re always touching each other and whispering to each other....”

The girl looked more lost than ever. Suddenly I knew exactly what to say to her.

“Hey,” I said, laying one hand on Greg’s shoulder to quiet him. “If they are a couple, they’ve never said anything to us.” It was perfect: allaying all suspicions while remaining absolutely true.

I did feel a pang of guilt at the girl’s crestfallen expression and spoke my next words before I had a chance to think them over. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there was something they weren’t telling us, though.”

The disappointment faded into speculation as the girl tried to figure out just what it was I was telling her. She gave me the smallest of smiles, and I returned it innocently, silently vowing not to say another word.

The red head had hung back until now, but she suddenly seemed to regain her confidence, springing forward to ask, “Will you guys sit with us?”

I shrugged and turned to Greg who simply shrugged back. “Sure,” he said. After all, we were just going in as part of the crowd. It didn’t really matter where we sat.

Actually that wasn’t entirely true. We did have to make sure that we’d end up in a section that didn’t get a lot of air time or we’d definitely be spotted. Fortunately, though it was true we had waited in line for hours, we had arrived rather late in comparison, which earned us seats in what Drew so colorfully refers to as the “ignored section.”

What followed was a game I like to call “Let’s Hide Our Faces from Dan’s Assistants.” They were flitting about, making people remove hats, take off or put on jackets and even switch seats for aesthetic purposes. Our section wasn’t unscathed when the onslaught was over, but it certainly took less damage than the rest. For the most part we really were being ignored.

Our groups of girls had split by this time. Originally five, only three stayed with us while the other two opted to go searching for better seats. In the end it was the red head and blond to my right, Greg to my left and a third girl to his.

Going inside the studio didn’t mean the fans were going to ignore us, though we all tried to keep it a bit more low key. We continued to converse with the girls and a few people in surrounding rows, answering questions about things like what went on before the show, what it was like back stage, and of course the ever popular how much of the show was really improvised.

In no time Dan had come out to take questions and explain the proceedings, and then Drew and the guys came out. It felt very surreal to be on this side of the stage, to be seeing them from a fan’s perspective. I was seeing things that I never saw on stage. After all, I spent most of my time on stage staring out at what I could see of the audience beyond the bright lights or watching the other guys’ backs from my seat.

Now I could see everything clearly. I found myself watching Ryan and Colin as the prerecorded opening played. They were conversing quietly, smiling. Eventually though my attention was drawn to Wayne. From what I could remember, he usually sat quietly as we waited for the show to begin, but today he was talking with Brad. I felt a sudden stab of jealousy. Maybe Wayne always talked at this time—just not with me.

No, I was being stupid. I decided to push it out of my mind, and besides, seeing Wayne and Brad talk reminded me of something I had forgotten until now.

“So,” I turned to Greg, “what happened last night?”

Greg smiled, though he kept his eyes on the performers. “Why Mr. Eston, I’m sure I have no idea as to what you’re referring to.”

I laughed softly, turning my gaze back to the stage and lowering my voice as Drew began the show’s introduction.

“Now who’s bullshitting?”

Greg chuckled in response. Drew was calling the first game: Let’s Make a Date. Greg’s eyes followed Brad as he took his place as the contestant.

“He hit me.”

“Hit you?” That came out a little louder than I’d expected in my surprise, and I quieted immediately. Wayne’s quirk had just appeared on the monitor above us, and my exclamation had luckily been drowned out in a sea of laughter. I glanced up to see that Wayne was playing Colin’s disapproving mother.

I smiled, watching Wayne affect a stern female voice. I wondered what Colin’s quirk would be. For the moment Wayne’s act was fairly generic; he didn’t have anything to play off just yet. I looked back to Greg.

“What did you do?”

Greg shrugged. “Nothing. Honestly we just talked.”

Brad was moving on to Colin. He had been eyeing Wayne curiously, and it looked as though he already pretty sure he’d figured him out.

I believed that Greg had done nothing more than talk with Brad, but from what I knew of his personality, talking could be enough to get him in a lot of trouble.

“It appears,” Greg continued suddenly as Colin’s quirk flashed on the monitors, “that our dear Mr. Sherwood isn’t quite ready to join the ranks of the sexually ambiguous.”

“I see....” I wanted to think about this. Last night I hadn’t gotten the impression that Greg was interested in Brad in any way beyond friendship, but from the way he was talking now I wasn’t so sure.

At that moment, however, I became thoroughly distracted as Colin got into his quirk. He was playing a superhero attempting to hide his alter ego. He began fairly normally, miming pushing his glasses up with two fingers and taking on the personality of a mild mannered office worker. Halfway through answering Brad’s question he suddenly stopped, cocking his head to one side as if listening for something. Giving a little placating chuckle, he excused himself to begin searching the stage. Finally he stopped and cried out in frustration, “Where’s a phone booth when you need one?”

I glanced at the other guys briefly. Brad and Wayne looked lost, but Ryan, who hadn’t moved from his position facing the audience smiled just a little. He seemed to know exactly what was going on. Finally Colin crawled underneath the piano and took off his clothes, which gained quite a reaction from the audience, before pulling on what I assumed to be his superhero costume. Exiting from under the piano, he tossed off his glasses and mimed his cape blowing in the wind.

He stood in a stereotypical hero pose as he scanned the audience. Inspiration hit him and he “flew” across the stage to circle around Drew’s desk, pointing and crying “You’ll never get away with this, Buzzer... Points Man ”

Drew just stared at him, chuckling softly. Suddenly Colin fell to his knees and crawled under Drew’s desk. I found myself laughing along with the audience. Drew shoved his chair back, though whether to escape or just make room for Colin wasn’t clear. Either way, the shock that showed plainly on his face was priceless.

Rather than actually going under Drew’s desk, however, Colin crawled behind him to the audience and pulled a girl from the front row, coercing her into crawling back to Drew’s desk with him. Once there, Colin sprang to his feet, bringing the girl with him, one arm around her waist.

“You’re safe now ” I think he said to her, but honestly it was hard to hear him over the roar of the crowd and Drew’s own laughter. Colin flew her back to her seat and she gave him a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.

“All in a day’s work ” he cried, one again affecting the hero pose.

Something seemed to occur to him just then and he ran back under the piano to change his clothes, finally regaining his seat with the other bachelors.

Brad and Wayne were still laughing, but Ryan simply smirked at Colin and said, “You forgot your glasses.”

Colin’s eyes widened dramatically for a moment before he sprinted back off his stool and retrieved his imaginary glasses from where he’s thrown them somewhere up stage. It was another few moments before everyone, both on and off stage, regained enough control for the game to continue.

Brad was still giggling when he addressed Ryan. “Bachelor number three....”

“Hello ” Ryan replied at once, taking on a southern accent. He hunched over in his seat slightly in a pose that I’d come to recognize as him playing an older person.

“Bachelor number three,” Brad began again, “if you were going to take me out on a romantic date, where would we go?”

“Hmm....” Ryan leaned forward further and rubbed at his chin, thinking. His quirk appeared on the monitors: an old prospector searching for gold in the other bachelors’ pants.

I think I just about went deaf for a moment there, the crowd was cheering so loud. I was amused to hear Greg cheering rather lasciviously along with them. I leaned forward expectantly. I loved doing Whose Line, but for some reason I’d never imagined watching it would be just as fun.

“Well,” Ryan said once the audience had quieted. He stood and mimed plucking some tools from his belt before crossing in front of Wayne. True to his character, Wayne simply looked up at Ryan, a frown on his face. “I guess I’d take you down to the mines,” he continued and swung what I believed to be a pickaxe at Wayne’s crotch. Startled, Wayne gave a little jump, but the next instant he was back in character, crossing his legs and turning angrily to Colin.

“And just look at your friends ” he shouted, giving Ryan a shove.

Colin looked to Wayne quizzically, a small smile playing about his lips as he gave a shrug.

Ryan eventually relented, muttering something about that mine being purged, which had the audience giggling. He moved on to Colin and I leaned forward even more; I was practically falling out of my seat. I felt the girl to my right doing the same and had to suppress a laugh. It looked like I was no better than some rabid fan girl.

Ryan poked around Colin’s crotch for a bit, but righted himself quickly saying that another person had already lay claim to this one.

I think I sighed, frustrated. I turned to the girl beside me, and was surprised to see her smiling at me. I suppose I was being a little too obvious, but it was fun to finally be open about this apparently forbidden relationship. I smiled back at her before returning my attention to the action.

Ryan was looking rather downtrodden, not having found any gold. Suddenly he gave a cackling laugh and pointed across the stage to Drew. He practically skipped over there amidst gales of laughter, his pickaxe ready in his hands.

Drew scooted back a couple inches, but then stopped, as if figuring that Ryan couldn’t do anything that bad. Ryan did his miner bit, swinging his pick down and then pausing, bending low over Drew and muttering something about cobwebs. Then he squealed, reaching down and pulling out what was apparently a hunk of gold. After examining it, though, he tossed it aside in frustration.

“Fool’s gold,” he said.

Drew sounded the buzzer. They’d only done one round, but it had been a long one and I was sure Brad had enough clues. He guessed them all with little trouble and the show moved on.

I had a lot of fun watching the taping. The only thing I can equate it to is eating at a restaurant: you could be eating the same thing you’ve had a million times at home, but the food just tastes better when you don’t have to go through the trouble of preparing it yourself.

I ended up talking a lot to both Greg and the blond girl beside me as the hours passed, joking and commenting in hushed tones. We didn’t speak of anything serious, just talked about the games and such. The blond mentioned that she thought I did a better duet with Wayne than Brad did, and though I was flattered, I didn’t really have an opinion. It’s difficult to judge something like that. I was surprised to find that watching a show was nearly as tiring as working one. I know I was considering taking a nap by the time they started the pick ups.

I also think Drew might have spotted us at one point. He had come into the audience to collect people for Sound Effects. They weren’t in the same section as Greg and I, but they were on about the same level, and for just one moment Drew looked past them and met my eyes.

I smiled at him and he stared back before shaking his head as though he were seeing things. Nonetheless he did glance our way a few times throughout the rest of the show.

When the time came for the audience to leave Greg and I said our goodbyes to the girls, even going so far as to give them hugs. It wasn’t odd or forced; I had really enjoyed their company. We walked outside with them instead of going backstage as Greg was dying for a cigarette.

“Sweet, sweet poison,” Greg purred, inhaling deeply as we moved around to the studio to the employee’s lot. We weren’t surprised to see Ryan outside, leaning against a wall as he as well enjoyed a cigarette.

“Hey, sexy ” Greg called out to him, raising one hand in greeting.

Ryan glanced up and smiled. He had changed out his stage clothes and was wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans. He nodded to us both.

“Drew said he thought he saw you two in the audience.”

“Yes,” Greg cackled, taking on the persona of a mad scientist. He spoke in some unidentifiable accent, drumming his fingers together. “The experiment is almost complete....”

Ryan just shook his head, laughing. “Seriously, what are you guys doing here?”

I shrugged. “We just came to watch. That’s all.”

Ryan seemed to accept this far better than anyone thus far. He nodded. “Going out with us?”

“That’s why we’re here,” Greg replied.

Ryan nodded again, motioning toward the studio doors. “The others should be out soon. Did you two need a ride?”

We spoke for a while, making arrangements. Brad, Ryan and Colin had arrived together as did Wayne and Drew, so it was decided that Greg would be traveling with Ryan’s group and I would be going with the latter.

It was Greg’s decision, and I have to admit that I was a little pissed at him for it. I had decided that I was fine with the whole Drew/Wayne thing and would leave them alone. I was sure that my thing for Wayne was merely a passing fancy, and after all, I didn’t want to hurt my wife. The complications I had encountered were definitely a sign.

That didn’t mean I was ready to be alone with them just yet.

As Ryan had said, the others joined us shortly, and we made small talk for a bit. The smokers took the opportunity for another cigarette since the bar was non-smoking. I kept quiet through most of the conversation, opting to watch Wayne instead, who was also keeping to himself. He wouldn’t look at me; he was probably concerned that things would be uncomfortable between us. I determined then that I would have to find a time to draw him aside later that night and let him know that I was okay with remaining nothing more than friends.

The short drive to the bar wasn’t as bad as I had imagined. I sat in the back with Drew driving and Wayne taking shot gun. There was little conversation, and what was said remained light.

There was one uncomfortable moment when Drew joked that Greg and I had showed up at the taping to spy on them. I laughed along with him, but even to my own ears it sounded forced. After all, that was pretty much our intent. I didn’t know what Greg’s motives were, but I had gone along driven by the idea of seeing the way the others interacted when I wasn’t around, even if those thoughts had been washed away once the games had begun.

I caught Wayne watching me through the mirror in his visor. His expression was carefully guarded, and I tried to smile reassuringly. He frowned back at me, and I was pretty sure it hadn’t worked. Just then Drew said something to him, laying one hand on the back of Wayne’s. Startled, Wayne jerked his hand back.

Drew faltered for just a moment, but then looked at me through the rearview mirror. I think he assumed Wayne didn’t want me to know anything was going on between them. Drew smiled at me and continued the conversation, keeping his hands to himself.

Once in the bar we all grabbed a table and a couple pitchers of beer. The mood remained relaxed as we talked of everything and nothing, catching up on the past year before veering off to any topic that came to mind. At one point Greg pulled Drew, Brad and Ryan into some political conversation. Ryan didn’t appear very into it; he generally stayed quiet and watched the other three talk, only putting in a comment when he was asked directly. I caught him watching Colin on and off, who had gone up to the bar for more beer and was still standing there, chatting with Wayne.

The conversation at our table held little interest for me, so I excused myself, thinking this would be a good time to have that talk with Wayne.

Whatever conversation Colin and Wayne were having halted when they spotted me coming toward them, and I was under the distinct impression that they had been talking about me. I didn’t let me suspicions show, simply motioned to the table and spoke to Colin.

“I think Ryan is looking for an escape.”

“Oh?” Colin looked over to the table and caught Ryan’s eye. “Maybe I should let him suffer a bit longer.” He grinned at Ryan and gave him a small, sarcastic wave.

Ryan just rolled his eyes and continued to stare at Colin, silently begging for help.

With a sigh, Colin accepted the pitchers the bartender had just laid down and smiled at us both. “Duty calls.”

As he began to walk away, though, Wayne snatched at his sleeve. “We’ll come with you.”

“Actually,” I put in, catching Wayne’s attention, “I wanted to talk to you.”

Wayne looked at me a moment and then turned to Colin, sharing a knowledgeable look and confirming my earlier suspicions.

“Please?” I said, more of a demand than a question, and Colin nodded to Wayne, his way of telling him to just go ahead. With a long-suffering sigh, Wayne let him go, watching Colin’s back before turning to face me.

“Look--” he started, but I cut him off with a shake of the head.

“It’s okay,” I told him, giving him a genuine smile. “I misunderstood you yesterday. I’m not looking for anything, so you don’t have to worry.”

Wayne was silent for a moment, absorbing that and studying me. Finally he seemed to relax and leaned back against the bar, facing the table where the others sat and not meeting my eyes.

“Misunderstood me?”

I was a little thrown by this question. I was giving Wayne a way out, but instead of taking it he was throwing it back at me, and I had no idea why. Maybe I had misunderstood more than I thought.

“Yes...,” I said slowly, attempting to figure out how much I wanted to say and deciding the blunt truth would be best. At this point I had nothing to lose.

“When you mentioned that Ryan and Colin made you curious, I thought maybe you wanted to explore that curiosity... with me.”
Wayne nodded, but said nothing.

“I know now that you weren’t referring to me,” I continued. “So it’s cool. I won’t bring it up again.”

“What makes you think I wasn’t talking about you?”

The confusion on my face must have been clear, because when I didn’t respond Wayne looked to me and started to chuckle.

“But....” I shook my head. “What about...?” I motioned to the table, meaning to indicate Drew, but trailed off, remembering that I wasn’t supposed to know of their affair.

My vague admission didn’t seem to concern or surprise him, however. He just nodded, the smile fading.

“Yeah....” He glanced back to the table to see the guys still fully occupied and then looked back to me. “Come on,” he said and nodded to the far side of the bar. I followed Wayne across the room and down the small hallway that housed the restrooms and public telephone. We stood there, huddled far back behind the phone, the red light of an exit sign coloring our skin.

I knew I’d vowed to give up on Wayne, but standing in the darkened hallway, the music from the jukebox muted to a dull bass beat thrumming through the floorboards, all I could think was that I hoped he would kiss me. We were so close. A thin t-shirt of the deepest read stretched across the muscles of his torso. He wasn’t looking at me. Instead, he stared across the hall at a name carved into the warped wood. His arm brushed mine, skin on skin, hot and inviting, as we both settled against the wall.

I couldn’t look at him either. My entire body was humming with anticipation; the desire that I had so desperately tried to ignore worked its way from the pit of my stomach out to my finger tips. I had no idea what Wayne had brought me here to tell me, but you didn’t go hide from your friends if you were planning on keeping things innocent.

“I guess you know about Drew and me,” Wayne said suddenly, startling me out of my reverie.

I nodded.

Wayne was quiet again. His breathing was quick, shallow, his arm brushing mine with each inhale.

“The truth is,” he began and then paused, swallowing and closing his eyes, “I like you, but my life is complicated right now. I love my wife, and I... I care about Drew. Very much. So I can’t....” Here Wayne lowered his head, slowly opening his eyes to stare down at the floor. “I can’t complicate things any further.” He picked up his head as I felt my cheeks color, a strange ache in my chest. He was rejecting me for the second time in as many days.

Wayne as watching me now, intense and beautiful, and I couldn’t help but meet his eyes even as I felt the undeniable urge to run.

“I can’t complicate things,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

Oh. My heart tripped a beat as he continued to stare into my eyes, and fuck me, I wanted to kiss him. I didn’t know what he was telling me, and frankly I didn’t care. All I knew was that his lips were mere inches from mind, and if I just leaned in a little bit....

A hand on my chest stopped me. Wayne pressed me back. His eyes had slid shut. “Don’t,” he said, just above a whisper. His lips brushed against mine when he spoke. I hadn’t realized how close I had gotten. Realizing it, knowing that I was a hair’s breadth away from kissing him and couldn’t do a damn thing about it had me frustrated beyond words.

“If you kiss me,” Wayne continued, still close enough that I could taste the Amstel on his breath, “I won’t be able to stop you.”

“Then don’t,” was all I said. Holding myself back was becoming physically painful.

But he shook his head and moved back, putting enough space between us so that I could no longer feel the heat of his body. “I can’t.” He opened his eyes to look at me with a deep sense of sadness. “I’m teasing you, I know, and I’m sorry. I’m not trying to; I just–“

“It’s okay.” I plastered the most fake smile I’d ever worn onto my face. “I told you I wouldn’t bother you, remember? So let’s just leave it.”

“I know, I just–“

And oh, I couldn’t listen to this anymore. It had only been a few minutes, but if I had to hear him tell me he wanted me with one breath and then deny me in the next one more time, I swear I was going to shoot myself.

“Look,” I cut him off, “let’s just go have fun.” I was getting annoyed, and it was coming out in my tone. Wayne was still watching me sadly, so I turned and walked away without glancing back.

Once back in the main room I steered immediately to the bar and ordered and downed three shots of vodka before I even considered returning to the table. I hadn’t had any intentions of getting drunk tonight, but now I could think of nothing I’d like better. I ordered another pitcher of beer, not caring if the guys had yet to finish the other two. The way I was feeling I could drink the whole thing myself.

When I finally made it back to the table it seemed oddly empty, and it took me a few minutes to figure out why.

Greg nodded to me in greeting before continuing the “conversation” he was currently engaged in with Drew and Brad. They appeared to be trading the dirtiest jokes they could think of. Wayne had already returned to the table and now sat beside Drew, not contributing, but chuckling along with everyone else. They were sitting conspicuously close, and I felt the stirrings of jealousy begin. To squelch it I poured a decent amount from my pitcher into the nearest empty glass and downed half of it.

“Hey...,” I said suddenly, amused at the effort it took to say that one word, “where are Ryan and Colin?”

The jokes halted as the others looked among themselves. Finally Greg shrugged and turned to me, smirking. “Probably fucking in the bathroom. Why?”

We all cracked up instantly, though had to admit that it was most likely true. Drew, though he laughed along with the rest of us, however, looked a bit uncomfortable, and it occurred to me that he was likely Ryan’s confidante when it came to this relationship. It would explain why Wayne seemed to know so much as well.

Still chuckling, Greg turned to face Brad and removed his glasses, pushing back his hair in his now familiar Colin impression. “Hey, Ryan, want to see who really has the bigger dick?”

Brad giggled. It was obvious he was feeling the effects of the alcohol. He leaned forward, staring into Greg’s eyes earnestly. “You know it gets me so hot when you do your dinosaur.”

Greg fluttered his eyes at Brad. “I’ll be your raptor if you’ll be my John Wayne.”

We were still laughing when Ryan and Colin returned, and seeing them just sent us into another fit of hysterics. Even Drew had relaxed once he realized it was all in fun and was now laughing so hard he could barely breath, his cheeks pink, head bowed nearly to the table.
Wayne was watching him fondly, but surprisingly I felt no jealousy. Drew was being far too adorable for me to feel any ill will toward him.

Ryan and Colin watched us curiously, looking around the table for a hint of what the joke could be. Ryan started laughing as soon as he saw Drew, but Colin kept a straight face, asking, “What’s so funny?”

We looked amongst ourselves and burst out laughing again. It was Greg who finally regained enough control to reply, “Colin, do your dinosaur for us.”

Of course that didn’t help any. Brad actually fell out of his chair, and continued to giggle from his seat on the floor. My stomach had begun to ache, I was laughing so much, and it felt great.

By this time Ryan and Colin figured they weren’t going to get any straight answer from us. They reseated themselves, taking up their glasses again, and helping us work on the pitchers of beer.

I sighed and shook my head, still riding high on the adrenaline of laughter. “You know,” I said after taking another long drink from my glass, “we really need to have a Whose Line orgy.”

“Hear, hear ” Greg raised his glass in a toast, and we clinked glasses.

Colin was shaking his head, chuckling. “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink,” he said, only half joking, and laid a hand on my shoulder.

Despite that it was very much the truth, I still found myself vaguely insulted. “I’m serious,” I told him.

“Make that far too much to drink,” Brad laughed.

“No, really.” My brain was a bit addled from the alcohol, but I knew I had a point in there somewhere. “There’s all this sexual tension floating around. We should just do something about it and get it out of our systems.” I ignored the fact that most of us were already doing something about it and nodded resolutely.

“Boy has a point,” Greg commented, looking oddly impressed.

“But,” Ryan said, looking distinctly uncomfortable, “we’re all straight.”

I tried to hide a snort of laughter at that, and I know I caught a few smiles around the table, but it was Greg who just smirked and raised his hands defensively, saying, “Hey, a mouth on your dick is a mouth on your dick.”

Colin was staring at him incredulously. “You’re not really considering it, are you? You actually think this is a good idea?”

Drew was smiling, bemused, watching me. “I guess getting laid is fun no matter who it’s with.”

“Isn’t that what our wives are for?”

I think everyone was a little surprised to hear Wayne’s soft, serious voice break in.

Greg recovered first, pouting and then sticking out his tongue. “Oh, you and your morals.”

It was obviously a joke, an attempt to lighten the mood, but Wayne had taken it as a personal attack. He frowned at Greg and replied, “Well, at least one of us should have some.”

Greg scoffed. “Look who’s talking.”

“Okaaaay....” Brad stood suddenly, motioning for calm. “I think that officially ends the night.” No one objected, and he continued, “I, for one, want to get home before this conversation gets any weirder.”

“That is a very good idea,” Ryan said, standing as well. Colin followed shortly after.

“Can you guys take Chip with you?” Drew asked, eyes on Ryan, nodding to me. “I think I’m going to hang out here a little longer...” he looked to Wayne “... if that’s cool with you?”

Wayne nodded, saying nothing. He was still glaring daggers at Greg.

Greg shook his head and rolled his eyes. I could tell he wanted to stay at the bar as well, but it just as obvious that wouldn’t be an option tonight. “Mind if I squish into the backseat with you and Chip?” he asked Brad.

“You’re more than welcome to.” Brad smiled.

We paid our tab, said our goodbyes to Drew and Wayne and made our way to the parking lot. The smokers lit up the moment we stepped foot outside. Brad nudged me, pointing to them with a smirk and we ended up miming smoking ourselves. Greg caught us and laughed.

Out of respect for the non smokers, Colin, Ryan, and Greg waited until they had finished their cigarettes until they got in the car. So it was that we had a few moments to converse.

“So what were you really laughing about when Ryan and I came back?” Colin asked. He aimed the question to Greg, assuming that as the most outspoke of us, it would be easiest to get an answer from him.

Greg obliged with a smirk. “Just joking that John Wayne was blowing a dinosaur in the bathroom.”

“Ah,” Colin chuckled. Ryan laughed, too. I was sort of surprised. Any comment on their relationship was normally met with cold stares and biting retorts. It was Greg saying it, though, a man they’d both considered a friend for over ten years, so I’d be willing to bet he was allowed to get away with more. It also hinted that wherever they had actually gone, nothing sexual had been involved.

Brad must have been thinking along the same lines because he asked, “So where did you two go?”

Ryan just held up his cigarette in reply.

Brad shook his head, smiling. “You boys and your dirty habits.”

“Speaking of dirty habits,” Greg leered, facing me. “You weren’t really serious about that orgy thing?”

Suddenly all eyes were on me, and I felt myself blushing. “Actually, I was.”

“Ew.” Ryan scrunched up his face, chuckling, “You want to see Drew naked?”

“Sure.” I shrugged, choosing to ignore the joke. “It’d be fun and... beneficial, I think. I mean, it’s hard to be inhibited around a guy once you’ve gone down on him.”

“Or it could make things really awkward,” Brad pointed out. He was looking at Greg as he spoke.

“Only if feelings get involved,” Greg replied. “Otherwise it just tends to make people closer.”

Ryan was nodding at this, but stopped abruptly.

“It’s not like I expected anyone to agree,” I put in truthfully.

The mood had turned solemn again, and we all stood in silence for a moment, each caught up in our own thoughts. I watched the smoke from Ryan’s cigarette as it curled and writhed against the backdrop of a city street.

Suddenly Colin laughed. “That’d be a great one for Scenes from a Hat.”

“What?” Brad smirked, “A Whose Line orgy or just our horror at seeing Drew naked?”

Soon we were all laughing again, and any serious conversation was forgotten as we squeezed into the car. The drive to the hotel mostly consisted of us thinking up things we’d like to see pulled from the hat, and by the time we’d made it to the hotel and climbed in the elevator, we were discussing ways to sabotage the hat with our suggestions.

Exiting the elevator, we all grasped hands in a drunken vow to do just that. It was a silly, stupid, but it was fun. We parted ways then, Brad and Greg going left and Ryan, Colin and I heading right. If anyone remembered that Ryan’s room was actually closer to Greg’s, we didn’t mention it.

I went to bed feeling rather happy. Nothing would come of my attraction to Wayne, and while that wasn’t really okay, it wasn’t earth shatteringly depressing either. If I just stopped getting my hopes up about it, I’d be fine.

I briefly considered calling my wife, but a glance at the clock told me it was just after one A.M. She’d be in bed by now. The light on the phone was blinking; she had called and left another message. By now she was probably very worried and starting to get a bit angry at my lack of communication, but through my alcohol induced haze that didn’t concern me. I’d make sure to call her the next day.

I curled up in bed smiling. Despite the current situation, I really had a great group of friends. It was that thought that lulled me into a deep sleep.

I was woken some time later by someone knocking on my door. I blinked up at the ceiling in confusion. It was still dark. What the Hell time was it? Forcing myself up, I looked to the clock: 3:12. What the Hell?

The person was still knocking, soft but insistent. I wondered just how long they had been there. I found, as I got out of bed, that I was far more sober than I’d been a couple hours ago, but not enough so that I was yet feeling the repercussions of a night of drinking.

The light from the hall was bright, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust as I looked through the peephole.

Wayne stared back, amusingly distorted, biting his lip. His hand was raised to knock yet again, but at the last moment he let it drop. Then he had moved away, out of my limited line of sight, assuming I was out for the night.

Quickly I threw the door open and poked my head out, searching for him. I was still very tired, but my concern more than overwhelmed any lethargy. A person didn’t risk the anger of their friends by waking them up at some ungodly hour without a good reason.

By the time I found Wayne he had swung back to face me, alerted by the sound of the door opening. We stood staring at each other for a few seconds, neither speaking. Wayne looked lost. The skin around his eyes was puffy, the edges rimmed with red; he had been crying.

“What happened?” My voice was thick with sleep. My tongue tasted like sour beer.

Wayne opened his mouth and then closed it, shaking his head. “Can I come in?”

Like his knock, his voice was soft but bordered on demanding.
“Yeah,” I replied, moving back to make room for him. “Of course. Come in.”

As he brushed past me I caught an unmistakable whiff of alcohol. It appeared that he had started drinking in earnest only after the others had left. As the door swung shut, I reached a hand out to turn on the lights, but Wayne placed his hand over mind, stopping me.

“Leave them off.”

My heart beat quickened. He wasn’t taking his hand off mine. His fingertips slid over my knuckles and across the back of my hand to ghost over the hairs along my wrist.

I gave an involuntary shiver.

He startle to chuckle then; I could feel it rumbling in his chest as he took hold of my other wrist and pressed me against the door, his chest leaning on mine. The smell of alcohol was even stronger now, but it was mixed with the sweet scent of Wayne’s cologne and a light, earthy scent that was distinctly his.

“Wayne?” I whispered. He was leaning in closer now. His breath skimmed along my chin with each rise and fall of his chest. “Are you drunk?”

“A little,” he admitted, still chuckling. His lips found the sensitive spot at the hinge of my jaw. I stifled a gasp as he started to kiss and lick his way down my throat.

“Wait.” It took all of my strength to push him away. He felt so good in my arms: warm, pliant, and ever so willing, but this was wrong. He was drunk and obviously upset. To do anything with him now would be taking advantage. “Think about this,” I told him. “What are you doing?”

He hesitated only slightly, and then smiled, the white of his teeth just visible in the darkness. “I’m complicating things.”

Then he kissed me.


To be continued
08/11/05



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