Sara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-02 11:15 pm
scripted_sra) wrote2009-03-02 11:15 pm
WLiiA? | Memory | PG-13 | Greg/Colin
Title: Memory
Fandom: WLiiA?
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Greg/Colin
Summary: Add a ton of alcohol, a little Greg Proops, and a dash of Colin Mochrie. Shake well.
Word Count: 702
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use. References to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
A/N: Has been edited from its original version.
Greg opened his eyes. A beam of light burst at him viciously and he shut them quickly, trying to calm the searing pain in his head.
Fuck.
His head killed. Obviously, he’d had far too much to drink the night before. Trying to open his eyes again, he did so slowly. He opened one eye first, then the other. After he focused, he found himself staring straight at a still-slumbering, mild-mannered Canadian.
He was in bed with Colin Mochrie.
He looked down.
He was naked and in bed with Colin Mochrie.
Fuck.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t been attracted to the man for awhile, but it was just that they had obviously done something in the heat of the moment when they were both too plastered to know any better.
Plus, he was pretty sure that Colin was straight. And very married.
Fuck.
He was certainly using that word a lot in his thoughts. But he’d promised himself that because of Colin’s supposed heterosexuality and scary-super-husband commitment, he wasn’t going to try anything. Clearly, that promise had gone awry somewhere. If only he could remember what the hell had happened, and preferably before Colin woke up.
Unfortunately, it was too late; the other man opened his eyes suddenly, before slamming them shut again with a grimace and a wince. Greg knew that if he was hung-over, there was no way in hell Colin was any better off.
Greg drank more than Colin, and for him to feel this bad, well, they must’ve been drinking some hard shit last night.
“...Greg?” Colin asked weakly.
“Yeah, Col?”
“Do you have any idea what we—oh!” And with that, Colin was out of bed and dashing into the bathroom of the...hotel? they were in.
That was when Greg noticed that they were in a strange hotel room in an unknown location. Where are we? What the hell happened last night?
However, his thoughts were put on hold as his stomach made itself violently know. He shot up suddenly and ran into the bathroom along with Colin.
Some throwing up, half a dozen Advil, and a four-hour nap later, Colin and Greg found themselves in bed trying to remember what had happened to them the night before.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a hang-over that bad in my life,” Colin groaned.
“Join the club, man. What did we drink last night?”
“I have no idea.” Colin shook his head. “What do you think we...uh, did, last night?”
“I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but the fact that we were both naked gives me a couple clues."
“Yeah. I was afraid of that. Look, Greg, whatever happened, I’m sorry. It was probably my fault. I shouldn't—”
Greg rolled his eyes and interrupted. “Col, if it was anyone’s fault, it’d be mine. I’m the one who's actually bisexual out of the two of us here.”
Colin looked at Greg. “What makes you think I’m not bisexual?”
“Are you?”
“Nah. I just like to imply that I am in order to screw with people.” Colin gave him a look.
Greg was struck mute for a few seconds, which didn't happen often; he certainly hadn’t expected this.
“So, Greg, do you mean to tell me you could’ve actually wanted something to happen, even if we hadn’t been too drunk to remember our initials, let alone our entire names?
Oh, what the hell. What good would lying do now anyway? “Yeah, definitely. You?”
Colin nodded.
Greg smirked. “C’mere,” he murmured, gesturing for Colin to move closer. He did so, and Greg leaned in. “I don’t know what happened last night, because I don’t remember. I really fuckin' hate that, so I say we do something about it. What about you?”
Colin smiled shyly, catching on. “Sure.” That was what sealed it for Greg, leaning in and kissing him passionately.
After a few minutes, they broke apart, breathless. “You know what, Col?”
“Hmmm?”
“I don’t think anything happened last night.”
“Why’s that?” Colin asked curiously.
“Because if we kissed like that last night, there’s no way I wouldn’t remember.”
Colin smiled and kissed him again.
He didn’t complain.
He was just glad there was no alcohol to cloud his memory this time.
Fandom: WLiiA?
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Greg/Colin
Summary: Add a ton of alcohol, a little Greg Proops, and a dash of Colin Mochrie. Shake well.
Word Count: 702
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use. References to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
A/N: Has been edited from its original version.
Greg opened his eyes. A beam of light burst at him viciously and he shut them quickly, trying to calm the searing pain in his head.
Fuck.
His head killed. Obviously, he’d had far too much to drink the night before. Trying to open his eyes again, he did so slowly. He opened one eye first, then the other. After he focused, he found himself staring straight at a still-slumbering, mild-mannered Canadian.
He was in bed with Colin Mochrie.
He looked down.
He was naked and in bed with Colin Mochrie.
Fuck.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t been attracted to the man for awhile, but it was just that they had obviously done something in the heat of the moment when they were both too plastered to know any better.
Plus, he was pretty sure that Colin was straight. And very married.
Fuck.
He was certainly using that word a lot in his thoughts. But he’d promised himself that because of Colin’s supposed heterosexuality and scary-super-husband commitment, he wasn’t going to try anything. Clearly, that promise had gone awry somewhere. If only he could remember what the hell had happened, and preferably before Colin woke up.
Unfortunately, it was too late; the other man opened his eyes suddenly, before slamming them shut again with a grimace and a wince. Greg knew that if he was hung-over, there was no way in hell Colin was any better off.
Greg drank more than Colin, and for him to feel this bad, well, they must’ve been drinking some hard shit last night.
“...Greg?” Colin asked weakly.
“Yeah, Col?”
“Do you have any idea what we—oh!” And with that, Colin was out of bed and dashing into the bathroom of the...hotel? they were in.
That was when Greg noticed that they were in a strange hotel room in an unknown location. Where are we? What the hell happened last night?
However, his thoughts were put on hold as his stomach made itself violently know. He shot up suddenly and ran into the bathroom along with Colin.
Some throwing up, half a dozen Advil, and a four-hour nap later, Colin and Greg found themselves in bed trying to remember what had happened to them the night before.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a hang-over that bad in my life,” Colin groaned.
“Join the club, man. What did we drink last night?”
“I have no idea.” Colin shook his head. “What do you think we...uh, did, last night?”
“I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but the fact that we were both naked gives me a couple clues."
“Yeah. I was afraid of that. Look, Greg, whatever happened, I’m sorry. It was probably my fault. I shouldn't—”
Greg rolled his eyes and interrupted. “Col, if it was anyone’s fault, it’d be mine. I’m the one who's actually bisexual out of the two of us here.”
Colin looked at Greg. “What makes you think I’m not bisexual?”
“Are you?”
“Nah. I just like to imply that I am in order to screw with people.” Colin gave him a look.
Greg was struck mute for a few seconds, which didn't happen often; he certainly hadn’t expected this.
“So, Greg, do you mean to tell me you could’ve actually wanted something to happen, even if we hadn’t been too drunk to remember our initials, let alone our entire names?
Oh, what the hell. What good would lying do now anyway? “Yeah, definitely. You?”
Colin nodded.
Greg smirked. “C’mere,” he murmured, gesturing for Colin to move closer. He did so, and Greg leaned in. “I don’t know what happened last night, because I don’t remember. I really fuckin' hate that, so I say we do something about it. What about you?”
Colin smiled shyly, catching on. “Sure.” That was what sealed it for Greg, leaning in and kissing him passionately.
After a few minutes, they broke apart, breathless. “You know what, Col?”
“Hmmm?”
“I don’t think anything happened last night.”
“Why’s that?” Colin asked curiously.
“Because if we kissed like that last night, there’s no way I wouldn’t remember.”
Colin smiled and kissed him again.
He didn’t complain.
He was just glad there was no alcohol to cloud his memory this time.