'One Week'. Ry/Col...Greg? Fic. Part Two.
Here's the next part. :) Go to part one first! :)
Sunday
The heat and smoke hit me as I opened the door, the beat of the music already shaking my bones as I moved slowly into the crowded bar. No one noticed me, everyone's attention fully focused on the entertainment, or the drinks, or each other, and I felt anonymous, like I could do anything, be anyone. It was something I had a hint at yesterday, yet today, I felt it stronger. And I liked it.
I wasn't sure why I was here again. Curiosity, I told myself.
I had also been invited, albeit in passing, by him, and so I was just trying to remain friendly.
I honestly didn't have many people I could say I was good friends with, and something had drawn me to him, to them, and I wanted to keep the tiny connection I had forged with them, the glimpse into their lives that I had been given.
I had been running a little late, struggling to come up with a reason for coming out, when I had decided on simply telling the truth, skirting around the fact it was in a strip club and simply saying I was going to see a comedian friend.
When I got there, the bar was crowded, and Ryan was already on stage.
I had practically ran most of the way, telling myself it was only because I needed the exercise, and so I struggled to catch my breath, the smoky atmosphere hindering it more than helping, as I searched for a good view of the stage. Ryan was stood in the spotlight, adjusting the microphone for his height, pulling it up the highest it would go, still a couple of inches short for him.
I found a spot in a dark corner, close to the stage yet away from anyone else and I leant back and watched him. After getting warmed up, he started, running a hand through his hair and throwing out jokes and comments, starting stories that all led to perfect punch lines.
He was good, getting the crowd interested, his comedy edgy and real. Some of it was crude, stooping low to grab the attention of those only interested in one thing, yet he had enough charm that he got away with it. It wasn't until he started working with the crowd, however, did I realise how impressive he actually was.
Much like Greg had, he started picking on people in the crowd, making comments about certain people, certain clothing, and certain things that happened as he progressed.
What impressed me most was that it all seemed ad libbed, and I could tell he was in his element, seeming more alive than anyone I had met as he bounced on the spot, energy flowing through his body. I fought against it, but I eventually couldn't help but give into the fits of laughter that he was inspiring.
Then, as he was scanning the crowd, and I still had a stupid grin on my face, he saw me. He made eye contact with me across the bar, pausing for just a second before carrying on his joke, he eyes staring into mine. He gave me a smile, looking down and that hint of shyness appeared again.
It was oddly endearing, and I found it amazing how he could sound so arrogant, as he was talking someone down, and yet look so insecure and modest as he dipped his head, at exactly the same time.
"Having fun?" A silky voice said from beside me, whispered in my ear, and I jumped, wondering how he'd got so close without me noticing.
"He's good." I mumbled, not drawing my eyes from the stage, unable to even if I wanted to. I was completely captivated.
"Oh yeah." Greg said and it of course seemed as if he was talking about something other than performing, the words so soft and yet dirty, and I felt my cheeks heating again. I really wasn't used to this, I had probably blushed more that I had in my entire life, yet it wasn't the girls as they stripped and writhed, no, it was from these men with their suggestive words and secret smiles.
"It's that charm again. Didn't realise he had you so enthralled though." Greg added, amusement tingling his words and I knew if I turned to look at him, he'd have a smug grin on his face.
My cheeks felt on fire, and I finally pulled my eyes from Ryan, briefly, shooting glances between him and Greg. "I...uh... he doesn't... I was just..."
Greg laughed again; the sound deep and throaty, surprisingly low compared to his usual nasal tone, and then he patted me on the shoulder, his fingers lingering much longer than necessary.
"Happens to the best of us." He told me, interrupting my embarrassed ramblings, and there was that curiosity again, seeping into me and yelling at me to ask what it was they shared. I didn't.
"I don't..." I started, not sure where I was really going. I wasn't even sure what it was I wasn't, because I couldn't deny that there was definitely something there. Something new that I couldn't yet confront.
Greg smiled wisely, and then said simply. "Oh I know. But you will soon."
And then he left me standing in the smoke, feeling lost and confused, and completely enthralled.
-
"Well?" Ryan asked me as he strolled back to the bar, breathless and hyperactive, sweat dripping from his forehead, his curls sticking to his skin once more. The spotlights seem to bounce off of him, his skin glistening and his eyes twinkling as he bounced around, twitching and buzzing in the cramped space.
"You were good." I said simply, plainly, feeling like it was the biggest understatement ever. They were both amazing, much too good to be performing in a place such as this.
He grinned despite my bland compliment, his eyes crinkling shut as he did, and he seemed genuinely surprised and pleased with my answer. I felt a weird feeling in my stomach at the sight, that little drop like you feel on a roller coaster, yet it seemed to send pleasure shooting through my bones. I told myself it was probably the alcohol again.
"Thank you." He said genuinely, the smile never leaving his face; his eyes still alight with pleasure. "Better than him?" He added mischievously, sticking his thumb out and pointing at Greg, who was prowling towards us. When he got near, he slipped his hands around Ryan's waist, once again pressing his chest against his back, yet this time he slid sideways so he could look past him and still see me. Ryan rested his hand casually on Greg's side and Greg's fingers rested on his stomach, fingering the dark fabric.
Greg smirked at me, eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for some answer, and all I could think was his words from before and how they were echoing around my mind, how they had seeped into me and made my body tremble.
"Definitely." I replied, mostly just to spite Greg, because he had that smug look on his face, as if he'd discovered something I had been trying to hide.
Deep down I wasn't so sure of my answer, I'd loved both their acts, their energy and talent shining through their performances and hitting me right in the chest, yet right now, it seemed more important that I tell Ryan he was better.
Ryan's smile spread impossibly wide, and he spun around so he was face to face with Greg, nodding almost smugly.
Greg didn't falter though, unsurprisingly, and instead slowly leant close to him, his lips almost touching his cheek, so near that I thought he was going to kiss him there. Instead, he mock-whispered to him, looking at me and loud enough that I could hear, "That's only because he likes you." He drew out the 'like' tortuously long, wrapping his tongue around the word and making it crystal clear in what context he meant it.
I blushed, hard. The alcohol again, of course.
It made me feel better to see Ryan's cheeks turning a little pink as well, likely from the heat but I would take what I could get. He of course didn't lose his cool either though, instead, he leant closer again to Greg, ensuring to me that in any moment they would likely give in and kiss each other.
They didn't though, instead Ryan whispered back, his voice deep and sultry and once again loud enough for me to hear, "Jealous?"
Greg smirked again, and eyed me up and down once more, his eyes drawing over my body slowly, memorising every inch. "Of you?" Greg said, glancing at Ryan before looking back at me. "Definitely, baby."
I looked down, frozen, and I had no idea how to react. I wasn't used to attention like this.... I wasn't used to attention.
Ryan shoved Greg gently, but Greg caught his hand in his, and bought it to his lips, kissing his fingers briefly, softly, before giving us both equal smug grins, and disappearing towards the back room. "Later, boys." He called as he did.
For a long moment I continued to stare at my drink, willing my cheeks to calm down, letting the beat of the music lay over me once more, like a comforting blanket. I risked a glance at Ryan and found him studying me.
I forced myself to keep my head up, and I met his eyes, smiling and tilting my head sideways.
He nodded, and smiled at me again and it was like we'd just had some secret conversation.
I didn't know what we'd said, but whatever it had been, it made something calm inside me, happiness swirling through me and a strange sort of peace settle, all the sights, sounds and smells of the dark dingy bar disappearing, leaving nothing but him in front of me.
Until he left me once again, languorously moving down the bar, giving me one final lingering look before turning away.
I stayed and watched him.
-
Monday
I was at the bar again, another drink in my hand. The liquid was warming, sliding down my throat pleasantly, and easing away my thoughts. The deadly, smoky atmosphere didn't faze me tonight and it seemed my senses had reached their limit, and simply stopped processing. The same girls were grinding away to the beat as if no time had passed, and another group of guys surrounded the stage, different yet exactly the same to those that had been there the previous night. It was as if time froze here.
The side of the room by the bar was empty once again, quiet except for a group of girls at the other end to where I was sat, the crowds all gathered around the stage instead of course.
The girls at the bar, a mix of strippers and waitresses, were laughing together, giggling quietly, they soft laughter an innocent contrast to the sensual dark movements going on on the other side of the room.
Greg and Ryan were with them, seemingly flirting, smiling and teasing, yet Greg had his hand casually on Ryan's thigh. They were sharing a cigarette, passing the small white stick back and forth between their lips, the movement seeming to signify so much more than just the sharing of smoke as they wrapped their lips around it gently, taking their time to inhale the fumes.
I swallowed, hard.
I pulled my eyes away, staring down at my glass, and I watched the ice as it melted before my eyes, the liquid flowing across it, see-through patterns in darkness.
When I risked another glance up, some moments later, Ryan caught my eye. He stared at me for what felt like forever. Then, taking one more long drag of the cigarette, he handed it back to Greg, lifting the other man's hand from his thigh and squeezing it, before moving away from the crowd.
And then he was in front of me.
"Colin..." He said, drawing out my name in a completely different way to Greg, the word sounding softer, more innocent, yet still completely wonderful. "Third night in a row. Some people would think you don't have a home to go back to." He smiled at me curiously.
"I... uh..." I stuttered, and I was suddenly struck with the realisation I had no reason to be here. I wasn't even sure why I was, just that I had needed to get out of my house, and that some deep urge inside me had bought me here.
I had been drawn in. The room was crowded and noisy, the smoke suffocating, the music pumped up with the bass much too loud, the stools hard and uncomfortable beneath me and there was a sense of sleaze and cheapness surrounding the place. And yet none of it could stop me suddenly wanting to spend time here, and none of it could dampen my feelings about the man in front of me.
Whatever they may be.
"It's all right. I know I inspire stalkers..." He grinned at me to belay his hard words, but still there was a question there that I knew I couldn't answer. "So, how's the wedding plans coming...?" He asked conversationally, kindly, yet I knew he had to suspect something because no one had a bachelor’s party that carried on three nights, not alone anyway, when the party ended on the first one.
"I'm not sure I want to follow through with it." I said quickly.
If he was startled by my blurted confession, he didn't show it. "Why'd you ask her in the first place?" He asked, and there was no malice in his words, simple curiosity.
"I love her." I said without pause, a fact I was quite proud of.
He shrugged at me, as if I'd just answered my own question, but I knew I hadn't. Because I wasn't as certain as I sounded.
"I think." I added quietly.
"Ah." He replied, like he understood something, but I had no clue still. Someone called loudly from over by the stage, and another man moaned, their voices rising above the usual hum of crowd noise. Ryan glanced up, checking for control, yet the men in question were simply having a little too much fun, luckily not at the expense of the girl on stage. The moment should have bought me crashing back to the present, to where I was, yet I still didn't feel odd, continuing my ponderings on marriage in a strip club.
"You ever thought about getting married?" I asked him honestly, partly because I thought he might have some advice, yet partly because I just wanted some insight into him, into who he was.
I knew nothing, nothing substantial, apart from the fact he worked long hours in a run-down dive of a place, showcasing his amazing talent to people who didn't deserve to see it.
I watched him curiously, waiting for his answer.
He didn't say anything, instead he simply chuckled, low and deep, and leant closer to me. I leant towards him too, and for a long second, neither of us said anything, his lips near my cheek, so close I could hear his deep stuttering breaths, husky likely from a combination of smoke and shouting too loud, and I could the warm air every time he exhaled.
After a moment that seemed to drag on forever, he seemed to remember what he was saying. "To who?" He asked me, almost amused.
"Anyone." I replied, trying to keep my voice level and even. "You have your fair share of admirers." My eyes were naturally drawn to Greg, and then I eyed the other girls in the group quickly, hoping he wouldn't notice.
He did, of course.
And he laughed, pulling away, and I missed the closeness already. "I can't really see Proops walking down the isle." He paused, thinking. "Though he could probably carry off the veil if he tried." He added with a smirk, much like the man in question favoured. He had that cloth and ran it through his fingers again, a practised quirk that seemed to satisfy his need to be moving constantly.
I laughed as well, mostly at the visual his words portrayed.
"Neither of you have a straight answer about your relationship you know?" I said pointedly, because the curiosity was killing me and my hints weren't getting me anywhere.
"Straight answer?" He asked, putting emphasis on 'straight' and I rolled my eyes, grinning despite myself.
"You know what I mean."
Ryan shrugged, flexing his shoulder as he did, and my eyes were drawn to the way his muscles twitched beneath his shirt. "Well I can tell you I'm not going to marry him." He said, looking at me, and he knew as well as I did I was avoiding my own situation.
"But you and him...?" I found myself asking, the curiosity seeping into my bones as I found myself unable to keep it at bay any longer.
He didn't say anything, just gave me a little smile. Then he paused and looked at me, leaning close again.
I took a deep breath when I realised he was suddenly only inches away, staring into my eyes as I noticed how green his actually were. We stared at each other, a long moment when I could feel his breath tickle my skin, his lips so close, until he leant forward that extra inch and pressed them against mine.
He kissed me, his large hand cupping my cheek and pulling me close, his tongue slipping past my lips, as his rubbed small circles on my skin. I responded immediately, kissing him back slowly, relishing the feel of him, so different to any other kiss I'd experienced. He was demanding yet gentle, the feel sending fireworks through my body.
Then he pulled back and away, tilting his head at me as he took in deeper than necessary breaths, my skin still tingling from his touch.
"That make you feel better or worse about getting married?" He asked me, licking his lips briefly, his tone completely conversational, like he hadn't just had is tongue in my mouth, like his hands hadn't just left fingerprints on my skin, like I wasn't almost shaking.
I swallowed hard, licking my own lips as I tried to deal with the taste of him that still lingered there.
"Worse." I managed to breathe out, coughing and clearing my throat when my voice came out harsh and husky.
Ryan simply shrugged at me again, as if I'd once more answered my own question.
Then a patron called to him, and, giving me a final smile, he left me there, breathless, with the taste of him still on my lips.
-
Sunday
The heat and smoke hit me as I opened the door, the beat of the music already shaking my bones as I moved slowly into the crowded bar. No one noticed me, everyone's attention fully focused on the entertainment, or the drinks, or each other, and I felt anonymous, like I could do anything, be anyone. It was something I had a hint at yesterday, yet today, I felt it stronger. And I liked it.
I wasn't sure why I was here again. Curiosity, I told myself.
I had also been invited, albeit in passing, by him, and so I was just trying to remain friendly.
I honestly didn't have many people I could say I was good friends with, and something had drawn me to him, to them, and I wanted to keep the tiny connection I had forged with them, the glimpse into their lives that I had been given.
I had been running a little late, struggling to come up with a reason for coming out, when I had decided on simply telling the truth, skirting around the fact it was in a strip club and simply saying I was going to see a comedian friend.
When I got there, the bar was crowded, and Ryan was already on stage.
I had practically ran most of the way, telling myself it was only because I needed the exercise, and so I struggled to catch my breath, the smoky atmosphere hindering it more than helping, as I searched for a good view of the stage. Ryan was stood in the spotlight, adjusting the microphone for his height, pulling it up the highest it would go, still a couple of inches short for him.
I found a spot in a dark corner, close to the stage yet away from anyone else and I leant back and watched him. After getting warmed up, he started, running a hand through his hair and throwing out jokes and comments, starting stories that all led to perfect punch lines.
He was good, getting the crowd interested, his comedy edgy and real. Some of it was crude, stooping low to grab the attention of those only interested in one thing, yet he had enough charm that he got away with it. It wasn't until he started working with the crowd, however, did I realise how impressive he actually was.
Much like Greg had, he started picking on people in the crowd, making comments about certain people, certain clothing, and certain things that happened as he progressed.
What impressed me most was that it all seemed ad libbed, and I could tell he was in his element, seeming more alive than anyone I had met as he bounced on the spot, energy flowing through his body. I fought against it, but I eventually couldn't help but give into the fits of laughter that he was inspiring.
Then, as he was scanning the crowd, and I still had a stupid grin on my face, he saw me. He made eye contact with me across the bar, pausing for just a second before carrying on his joke, he eyes staring into mine. He gave me a smile, looking down and that hint of shyness appeared again.
It was oddly endearing, and I found it amazing how he could sound so arrogant, as he was talking someone down, and yet look so insecure and modest as he dipped his head, at exactly the same time.
"Having fun?" A silky voice said from beside me, whispered in my ear, and I jumped, wondering how he'd got so close without me noticing.
"He's good." I mumbled, not drawing my eyes from the stage, unable to even if I wanted to. I was completely captivated.
"Oh yeah." Greg said and it of course seemed as if he was talking about something other than performing, the words so soft and yet dirty, and I felt my cheeks heating again. I really wasn't used to this, I had probably blushed more that I had in my entire life, yet it wasn't the girls as they stripped and writhed, no, it was from these men with their suggestive words and secret smiles.
"It's that charm again. Didn't realise he had you so enthralled though." Greg added, amusement tingling his words and I knew if I turned to look at him, he'd have a smug grin on his face.
My cheeks felt on fire, and I finally pulled my eyes from Ryan, briefly, shooting glances between him and Greg. "I...uh... he doesn't... I was just..."
Greg laughed again; the sound deep and throaty, surprisingly low compared to his usual nasal tone, and then he patted me on the shoulder, his fingers lingering much longer than necessary.
"Happens to the best of us." He told me, interrupting my embarrassed ramblings, and there was that curiosity again, seeping into me and yelling at me to ask what it was they shared. I didn't.
"I don't..." I started, not sure where I was really going. I wasn't even sure what it was I wasn't, because I couldn't deny that there was definitely something there. Something new that I couldn't yet confront.
Greg smiled wisely, and then said simply. "Oh I know. But you will soon."
And then he left me standing in the smoke, feeling lost and confused, and completely enthralled.
-
"Well?" Ryan asked me as he strolled back to the bar, breathless and hyperactive, sweat dripping from his forehead, his curls sticking to his skin once more. The spotlights seem to bounce off of him, his skin glistening and his eyes twinkling as he bounced around, twitching and buzzing in the cramped space.
"You were good." I said simply, plainly, feeling like it was the biggest understatement ever. They were both amazing, much too good to be performing in a place such as this.
He grinned despite my bland compliment, his eyes crinkling shut as he did, and he seemed genuinely surprised and pleased with my answer. I felt a weird feeling in my stomach at the sight, that little drop like you feel on a roller coaster, yet it seemed to send pleasure shooting through my bones. I told myself it was probably the alcohol again.
"Thank you." He said genuinely, the smile never leaving his face; his eyes still alight with pleasure. "Better than him?" He added mischievously, sticking his thumb out and pointing at Greg, who was prowling towards us. When he got near, he slipped his hands around Ryan's waist, once again pressing his chest against his back, yet this time he slid sideways so he could look past him and still see me. Ryan rested his hand casually on Greg's side and Greg's fingers rested on his stomach, fingering the dark fabric.
Greg smirked at me, eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for some answer, and all I could think was his words from before and how they were echoing around my mind, how they had seeped into me and made my body tremble.
"Definitely." I replied, mostly just to spite Greg, because he had that smug look on his face, as if he'd discovered something I had been trying to hide.
Deep down I wasn't so sure of my answer, I'd loved both their acts, their energy and talent shining through their performances and hitting me right in the chest, yet right now, it seemed more important that I tell Ryan he was better.
Ryan's smile spread impossibly wide, and he spun around so he was face to face with Greg, nodding almost smugly.
Greg didn't falter though, unsurprisingly, and instead slowly leant close to him, his lips almost touching his cheek, so near that I thought he was going to kiss him there. Instead, he mock-whispered to him, looking at me and loud enough that I could hear, "That's only because he likes you." He drew out the 'like' tortuously long, wrapping his tongue around the word and making it crystal clear in what context he meant it.
I blushed, hard. The alcohol again, of course.
It made me feel better to see Ryan's cheeks turning a little pink as well, likely from the heat but I would take what I could get. He of course didn't lose his cool either though, instead, he leant closer again to Greg, ensuring to me that in any moment they would likely give in and kiss each other.
They didn't though, instead Ryan whispered back, his voice deep and sultry and once again loud enough for me to hear, "Jealous?"
Greg smirked again, and eyed me up and down once more, his eyes drawing over my body slowly, memorising every inch. "Of you?" Greg said, glancing at Ryan before looking back at me. "Definitely, baby."
I looked down, frozen, and I had no idea how to react. I wasn't used to attention like this.... I wasn't used to attention.
Ryan shoved Greg gently, but Greg caught his hand in his, and bought it to his lips, kissing his fingers briefly, softly, before giving us both equal smug grins, and disappearing towards the back room. "Later, boys." He called as he did.
For a long moment I continued to stare at my drink, willing my cheeks to calm down, letting the beat of the music lay over me once more, like a comforting blanket. I risked a glance at Ryan and found him studying me.
I forced myself to keep my head up, and I met his eyes, smiling and tilting my head sideways.
He nodded, and smiled at me again and it was like we'd just had some secret conversation.
I didn't know what we'd said, but whatever it had been, it made something calm inside me, happiness swirling through me and a strange sort of peace settle, all the sights, sounds and smells of the dark dingy bar disappearing, leaving nothing but him in front of me.
Until he left me once again, languorously moving down the bar, giving me one final lingering look before turning away.
I stayed and watched him.
-
Monday
I was at the bar again, another drink in my hand. The liquid was warming, sliding down my throat pleasantly, and easing away my thoughts. The deadly, smoky atmosphere didn't faze me tonight and it seemed my senses had reached their limit, and simply stopped processing. The same girls were grinding away to the beat as if no time had passed, and another group of guys surrounded the stage, different yet exactly the same to those that had been there the previous night. It was as if time froze here.
The side of the room by the bar was empty once again, quiet except for a group of girls at the other end to where I was sat, the crowds all gathered around the stage instead of course.
The girls at the bar, a mix of strippers and waitresses, were laughing together, giggling quietly, they soft laughter an innocent contrast to the sensual dark movements going on on the other side of the room.
Greg and Ryan were with them, seemingly flirting, smiling and teasing, yet Greg had his hand casually on Ryan's thigh. They were sharing a cigarette, passing the small white stick back and forth between their lips, the movement seeming to signify so much more than just the sharing of smoke as they wrapped their lips around it gently, taking their time to inhale the fumes.
I swallowed, hard.
I pulled my eyes away, staring down at my glass, and I watched the ice as it melted before my eyes, the liquid flowing across it, see-through patterns in darkness.
When I risked another glance up, some moments later, Ryan caught my eye. He stared at me for what felt like forever. Then, taking one more long drag of the cigarette, he handed it back to Greg, lifting the other man's hand from his thigh and squeezing it, before moving away from the crowd.
And then he was in front of me.
"Colin..." He said, drawing out my name in a completely different way to Greg, the word sounding softer, more innocent, yet still completely wonderful. "Third night in a row. Some people would think you don't have a home to go back to." He smiled at me curiously.
"I... uh..." I stuttered, and I was suddenly struck with the realisation I had no reason to be here. I wasn't even sure why I was, just that I had needed to get out of my house, and that some deep urge inside me had bought me here.
I had been drawn in. The room was crowded and noisy, the smoke suffocating, the music pumped up with the bass much too loud, the stools hard and uncomfortable beneath me and there was a sense of sleaze and cheapness surrounding the place. And yet none of it could stop me suddenly wanting to spend time here, and none of it could dampen my feelings about the man in front of me.
Whatever they may be.
"It's all right. I know I inspire stalkers..." He grinned at me to belay his hard words, but still there was a question there that I knew I couldn't answer. "So, how's the wedding plans coming...?" He asked conversationally, kindly, yet I knew he had to suspect something because no one had a bachelor’s party that carried on three nights, not alone anyway, when the party ended on the first one.
"I'm not sure I want to follow through with it." I said quickly.
If he was startled by my blurted confession, he didn't show it. "Why'd you ask her in the first place?" He asked, and there was no malice in his words, simple curiosity.
"I love her." I said without pause, a fact I was quite proud of.
He shrugged at me, as if I'd just answered my own question, but I knew I hadn't. Because I wasn't as certain as I sounded.
"I think." I added quietly.
"Ah." He replied, like he understood something, but I had no clue still. Someone called loudly from over by the stage, and another man moaned, their voices rising above the usual hum of crowd noise. Ryan glanced up, checking for control, yet the men in question were simply having a little too much fun, luckily not at the expense of the girl on stage. The moment should have bought me crashing back to the present, to where I was, yet I still didn't feel odd, continuing my ponderings on marriage in a strip club.
"You ever thought about getting married?" I asked him honestly, partly because I thought he might have some advice, yet partly because I just wanted some insight into him, into who he was.
I knew nothing, nothing substantial, apart from the fact he worked long hours in a run-down dive of a place, showcasing his amazing talent to people who didn't deserve to see it.
I watched him curiously, waiting for his answer.
He didn't say anything, instead he simply chuckled, low and deep, and leant closer to me. I leant towards him too, and for a long second, neither of us said anything, his lips near my cheek, so close I could hear his deep stuttering breaths, husky likely from a combination of smoke and shouting too loud, and I could the warm air every time he exhaled.
After a moment that seemed to drag on forever, he seemed to remember what he was saying. "To who?" He asked me, almost amused.
"Anyone." I replied, trying to keep my voice level and even. "You have your fair share of admirers." My eyes were naturally drawn to Greg, and then I eyed the other girls in the group quickly, hoping he wouldn't notice.
He did, of course.
And he laughed, pulling away, and I missed the closeness already. "I can't really see Proops walking down the isle." He paused, thinking. "Though he could probably carry off the veil if he tried." He added with a smirk, much like the man in question favoured. He had that cloth and ran it through his fingers again, a practised quirk that seemed to satisfy his need to be moving constantly.
I laughed as well, mostly at the visual his words portrayed.
"Neither of you have a straight answer about your relationship you know?" I said pointedly, because the curiosity was killing me and my hints weren't getting me anywhere.
"Straight answer?" He asked, putting emphasis on 'straight' and I rolled my eyes, grinning despite myself.
"You know what I mean."
Ryan shrugged, flexing his shoulder as he did, and my eyes were drawn to the way his muscles twitched beneath his shirt. "Well I can tell you I'm not going to marry him." He said, looking at me, and he knew as well as I did I was avoiding my own situation.
"But you and him...?" I found myself asking, the curiosity seeping into my bones as I found myself unable to keep it at bay any longer.
He didn't say anything, just gave me a little smile. Then he paused and looked at me, leaning close again.
I took a deep breath when I realised he was suddenly only inches away, staring into my eyes as I noticed how green his actually were. We stared at each other, a long moment when I could feel his breath tickle my skin, his lips so close, until he leant forward that extra inch and pressed them against mine.
He kissed me, his large hand cupping my cheek and pulling me close, his tongue slipping past my lips, as his rubbed small circles on my skin. I responded immediately, kissing him back slowly, relishing the feel of him, so different to any other kiss I'd experienced. He was demanding yet gentle, the feel sending fireworks through my body.
Then he pulled back and away, tilting his head at me as he took in deeper than necessary breaths, my skin still tingling from his touch.
"That make you feel better or worse about getting married?" He asked me, licking his lips briefly, his tone completely conversational, like he hadn't just had is tongue in my mouth, like his hands hadn't just left fingerprints on my skin, like I wasn't almost shaking.
I swallowed hard, licking my own lips as I tried to deal with the taste of him that still lingered there.
"Worse." I managed to breathe out, coughing and clearing my throat when my voice came out harsh and husky.
Ryan simply shrugged at me again, as if I'd once more answered my own question.
Then a patron called to him, and, giving me a final smile, he left me there, breathless, with the taste of him still on my lips.
-