New Lease - Chapter 6
Title: New Lease
Chapter: 6/15
Fandom: Whose Line is it Anyway
Genre: Slash
Pairing(s): Brad/Ryan; hinted Drew/Greg
Warnings: Some strong language
Disclaimer: Don't own Whose Line. Not making money from this.
A/N: AU. Introduction of a certain pair ;)
Merry Christmas!
-----
"Shit!"
Ryan rifled through the drawers in his room, going through every pocket in his clothes, searching every crevice. There had to be some spare dimes around somewhere; he was positive he had collected more money than the small pile he'd counted out on the motel bed. When his search was exhausted, having combed through every cranny, he flopped down onto the duvet and recounted the mountain of loose change. Thirty-six, thirty-seven...thirty-seven dollars and fifty-two cents.
"Shit."
There was nothing in his bank account, of that he was certain. And there was no way he was going to make a wad of cash magically materialise by that evening. As much as it pained him to realise it, he wouldn't be seeing Brad that day or, most probably, for the rest of the week. He ran his hands wearily over his eyes. What was he supposed to do with his time if he didn't have anything to look forward to? With a heavy sigh, he got up and went to see if there were any errands the motel manager wanted him to run.
He ended up on the reception desk again, gazing out of the window and imagining; the independent actor driving to California in search of his 'big break', the doctor on an emergency call, the deadbeat dad speeding to catch the end of his son's first soccer match.
The hours dragged. By the end of his shift, his shoulders were drooping so low it felt like an anvil was pressing down on his back.
"Lunch?" chirruped Kathy, who had appeared at his side with a sandwich. Ryan smiled gratefully and took it, and he had unwrapped and eaten most of it by the time he got back to his room; he scolded himself for giving himself less to do to kill the time before his kitchen shift. He paced the floor for a while, as though the activity would make his brain tell him what he wanted to do. After a few minutes, he snatched up the TV control and switched it on. He didn't know what he was going to watch, but he did know that he wasn't going to watch pornography; for a start, porn didn't seem to have the same effect on him any more, and besides that, while he believed he stood a chance of ending up with Brad, he would save himself for him.
As he flicked through the various news networks and cartoon channels, a frown adorned his face and a hideous thought washed over him like an ice-cold sea wave. A thought that he felt stupid not to have realised before; who did he think he was kidding? Did he truly believe in his heart of hearts that he and Brad stood even the remotest chance? Without thinking about how he would get out of the brothel, which was an impossibility in itself, there was the task of getting Brad to fall for Ryan as much as Ryan had fallen for Brad, and Ryan wasn't at all sure that was feasable. Brad had made a living out of getting people to fall in love with him, he was surely immune to romantic feelings. It occured briefly to Ryan that maybe he didn't have any real feelings for Brad after all, that the euphoria he was feeling was a result of the forty bucks he'd placed on the desk that night mixed with the heady scent of 'breaking the rules'; but just one flash memory of that lopsided smile, the soft brown hair, the feeling of skin against skin and breath tickling across the neck - it had to be real, Ryan was certain.
He'd always read in books and seen in films that True Love Prevails. Maybe if he clung to that doctrine, he would get the happy ending he was pining for.
-----
At five o' clock, after a light nap, Ryan made his way along the corridors of the motel to start his shift in the kitchen. As he walked towards the reception desk, he could see two men waiting, somewhat impatiently. The shorter of the two was the most agitated, hopping from foot to foot and looking around warily, alternating between adjusting his glasses and checking his watch; the taller appeared more calm, leaning against the window and gazing at seemingly nothing, but as Ryan approached them he could see that the man was definitely focusing on something outside, and he had an aura of fear about him that reflected in his eyes when he turned to face Ryan.
"Is there any way we can get some service around here?" the taller man said in a tone that was half biting anger and half panic.
"Uh..." Ryan glanced at the unmanned reception desk, "Well, it's not my shift, but I can book you a room." He tapped into the computer, "Name?"
"Carter, Derek Carter," the shorter man said quickly, "And this is Gary Parker, my...my partner."
Ryan smiled, "Welcome to Motel 6. What sort of room would you like?"
"Single room, double bed."
"How many nights will you be staying with us?"
Derek and Gary shared a glance, before Gary spoke up, "As many as we need to."
Derek mumbled something close to Gary's ear, but Gary brushed him off with a small shake of his head.
"It's okay," said Ryan, "I'm just the same. I pay by the day."
"We'll do that, then," said Gary, putting a few notes on the desk, "We'll be paying with cash."
"So, you work here?" said Derek as Ryan was counting out the money, "Like, full-time and everything?"
"It was pretty much the only thing I could get," Ryan explained as he programmed their keycard, "Gotta get some cash from somewhere."
"Jesus," Derek choked, his face tinged with red and eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to pour down his cheeks, "I can't do this. I can't live like this."
"Woah, calm down," Gary said, taking the other man by the shoulders and looking him steadily in the eye, "Just remember why we're doing this, okay? This is nothing. This is easy."
"For God's sake, Greg," he shouted, "I don't want end up working in a fucking Motel 6!"
"Gary," the other man said softly.
"What?"
"My name is Gary."
"Shit...yeah, Gary, sorry..."
After an awkward silence, they both looked at Ryan.
"I didn't hear anything," he said, to which they both nodded, then took the keycard and took off down the corridor without a single sound other than a sharp slap when 'Gary' hit 'Derek' on his arm.
Ryan raised an eyebrow. The last few days had certainly been eventful. At the very least he couldn't complain about leading a boring life any more. And he suspected it was just going to get wilder.
Have a great Christmas, guys! Love you all <3
.x.Sess.x.
Chapter: 6/15
Fandom: Whose Line is it Anyway
Genre: Slash
Pairing(s): Brad/Ryan; hinted Drew/Greg
Warnings: Some strong language
Disclaimer: Don't own Whose Line. Not making money from this.
A/N: AU. Introduction of a certain pair ;)
Merry Christmas!
-----
"Shit!"
Ryan rifled through the drawers in his room, going through every pocket in his clothes, searching every crevice. There had to be some spare dimes around somewhere; he was positive he had collected more money than the small pile he'd counted out on the motel bed. When his search was exhausted, having combed through every cranny, he flopped down onto the duvet and recounted the mountain of loose change. Thirty-six, thirty-seven...thirty-seven dollars and fifty-two cents.
"Shit."
There was nothing in his bank account, of that he was certain. And there was no way he was going to make a wad of cash magically materialise by that evening. As much as it pained him to realise it, he wouldn't be seeing Brad that day or, most probably, for the rest of the week. He ran his hands wearily over his eyes. What was he supposed to do with his time if he didn't have anything to look forward to? With a heavy sigh, he got up and went to see if there were any errands the motel manager wanted him to run.
He ended up on the reception desk again, gazing out of the window and imagining; the independent actor driving to California in search of his 'big break', the doctor on an emergency call, the deadbeat dad speeding to catch the end of his son's first soccer match.
The hours dragged. By the end of his shift, his shoulders were drooping so low it felt like an anvil was pressing down on his back.
"Lunch?" chirruped Kathy, who had appeared at his side with a sandwich. Ryan smiled gratefully and took it, and he had unwrapped and eaten most of it by the time he got back to his room; he scolded himself for giving himself less to do to kill the time before his kitchen shift. He paced the floor for a while, as though the activity would make his brain tell him what he wanted to do. After a few minutes, he snatched up the TV control and switched it on. He didn't know what he was going to watch, but he did know that he wasn't going to watch pornography; for a start, porn didn't seem to have the same effect on him any more, and besides that, while he believed he stood a chance of ending up with Brad, he would save himself for him.
As he flicked through the various news networks and cartoon channels, a frown adorned his face and a hideous thought washed over him like an ice-cold sea wave. A thought that he felt stupid not to have realised before; who did he think he was kidding? Did he truly believe in his heart of hearts that he and Brad stood even the remotest chance? Without thinking about how he would get out of the brothel, which was an impossibility in itself, there was the task of getting Brad to fall for Ryan as much as Ryan had fallen for Brad, and Ryan wasn't at all sure that was feasable. Brad had made a living out of getting people to fall in love with him, he was surely immune to romantic feelings. It occured briefly to Ryan that maybe he didn't have any real feelings for Brad after all, that the euphoria he was feeling was a result of the forty bucks he'd placed on the desk that night mixed with the heady scent of 'breaking the rules'; but just one flash memory of that lopsided smile, the soft brown hair, the feeling of skin against skin and breath tickling across the neck - it had to be real, Ryan was certain.
He'd always read in books and seen in films that True Love Prevails. Maybe if he clung to that doctrine, he would get the happy ending he was pining for.
-----
At five o' clock, after a light nap, Ryan made his way along the corridors of the motel to start his shift in the kitchen. As he walked towards the reception desk, he could see two men waiting, somewhat impatiently. The shorter of the two was the most agitated, hopping from foot to foot and looking around warily, alternating between adjusting his glasses and checking his watch; the taller appeared more calm, leaning against the window and gazing at seemingly nothing, but as Ryan approached them he could see that the man was definitely focusing on something outside, and he had an aura of fear about him that reflected in his eyes when he turned to face Ryan.
"Is there any way we can get some service around here?" the taller man said in a tone that was half biting anger and half panic.
"Uh..." Ryan glanced at the unmanned reception desk, "Well, it's not my shift, but I can book you a room." He tapped into the computer, "Name?"
"Carter, Derek Carter," the shorter man said quickly, "And this is Gary Parker, my...my partner."
Ryan smiled, "Welcome to Motel 6. What sort of room would you like?"
"Single room, double bed."
"How many nights will you be staying with us?"
Derek and Gary shared a glance, before Gary spoke up, "As many as we need to."
Derek mumbled something close to Gary's ear, but Gary brushed him off with a small shake of his head.
"It's okay," said Ryan, "I'm just the same. I pay by the day."
"We'll do that, then," said Gary, putting a few notes on the desk, "We'll be paying with cash."
"So, you work here?" said Derek as Ryan was counting out the money, "Like, full-time and everything?"
"It was pretty much the only thing I could get," Ryan explained as he programmed their keycard, "Gotta get some cash from somewhere."
"Jesus," Derek choked, his face tinged with red and eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to pour down his cheeks, "I can't do this. I can't live like this."
"Woah, calm down," Gary said, taking the other man by the shoulders and looking him steadily in the eye, "Just remember why we're doing this, okay? This is nothing. This is easy."
"For God's sake, Greg," he shouted, "I don't want end up working in a fucking Motel 6!"
"Gary," the other man said softly.
"What?"
"My name is Gary."
"Shit...yeah, Gary, sorry..."
After an awkward silence, they both looked at Ryan.
"I didn't hear anything," he said, to which they both nodded, then took the keycard and took off down the corridor without a single sound other than a sharp slap when 'Gary' hit 'Derek' on his arm.
Ryan raised an eyebrow. The last few days had certainly been eventful. At the very least he couldn't complain about leading a boring life any more. And he suspected it was just going to get wilder.
Have a great Christmas, guys! Love you all <3
.x.Sess.x.