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The Naked Time
Chris tugged on his collar and shook his arms. He fucking hated this suit. He hated that he had to *wear* a suit at all. Hated even more that he *owned* a suit. But his publicist had been adamant.
At least Greg had to wear one too. He grinned into the mirror and straightened his tie. It had taken him forever to get it right.
Chris opened the door and wandered into the living room. They had about twenty minutes before the limo showed up. He was going to turn on the television when he heard Greg cussing from his own bathroom. Chris had to grin.
He heard Greg yell, "Fuck this. Fuck the tie. I'm not going."
Chris stood in the doorway, not even trying to hold back his laughter.
Greg scowled at him in the mirror. "Fuck you, Pratt. You tie it if you're so fucking smart."
"You have a dirty mouth, Gregory."
He got an eye roll for that, but Greg motioned him over. "You're one to talk. Whenever we break out Madden, you use every curse word ever. Sometimes, they're some I've never heard of before."
"Shut up and turn around." Greg did and Chris pushed the fabric around and managed to get it tied after only three tries.
"That looks like shit, Pratt."
"Fuck you. It's *tied.*"
They grinned at each other in the mirror. The knock on the door made them both rush to it, and fight to open it.
Chris elbowed Greg out of the way and won the battle. "Ha ha!" he shouted.
"Hello, Misters Pratt and Smith. I'm here to drive you."
They both cracked up. This was just hilarious.
They finally got inside the limo and it was like a toy store for Chris. He pushed every button he could. Radio on, radio off. Radio on, radio off. Partition up, partition down. Partition up, partition down. He could tell he was driving Greg nuts.
"What are you doing?"
Chris shrugged. "Nothing." He pushed another button.
"Stop it, man."
"Stop what?" He tried for innocence. He was sure he failed. He found the button that opened the bar and grinned.
Greg just glared at him.
~*~
The party had been lame. Lame, lame, lame, thought Chris as he and Greg climbed back into the limo.
They'd been drinking all night. Erwin had hooked them up with alcohol the whole time and fuck if Chris wasn't drunk. Greg was also drunk, so it was okay. They slumped together on the seat, grinning.
"Oh, you're so cute, Gregory," Chris falsettoed and then squealed in a high pitched voice. "It's Ephram! Hi Ephram!"
"Shut the fuck up."
"Those girls love you, man. It's so weird."
"You're just jealous that no one was screaming for you."
"Fuck that. I have fans."
"Right. Just none of them were there, I guess."
"Fuck off."
Chris turned and looked out the window. He wasn't pouting.
"Come on, Pratt. I was just kidding."
"Whatever."
Chris could feel Greg trying to turn him around. He didn't budge. Greg kept trying, climbing across Chris' arm and into his lap.
"I was just joking. I'm a Chris Pratt fan. I love big, dumb Bright." Greg batted his eyelashes and smiled.
"Shut *up*! You are such an ass." His hands slid down to Greg's hips of their own accord.
"I said I was sorry."
"I know."
Greg leaned in and kissed Chris on the nose.
"What was that? Was that an apology? I don't think so." He crossed his arms.
"What about this?"
And then, Greg's lips were on his own and Chris let out a noise of surprise. But Greg kept kissing him.
That was good. Jesus, this wasn't supposed to happen. When Greg slipped his tongue between Chris' lips, it was all Chris could do not to groan.
He pulled Greg closer and sucked on the tongue in his mouth whenever it slowed.
Thank God the partition was up, because Chris didn't want to stop. Ever.
Greg's mouth tasted smoky like the whisky they'd had to drink. He pressed his hips down, into Chris, their cocks rubbing against each other though thin cotton.
Holy fuck. Chris' brain was about to explode. That felt fucking amazing.
When he did it again, Chris tore his mouth away. "Jesus. What are we doing?"
"I'm not Jesus," Greg said. His lips were all shiny and red. Fuck. He looked good like that. "That was making out."
Chris rolled his eyes. "I knew that. I meant… This… I didn't think I was gay."
Greg laughed and reached down to cup Chris' erection. "I don't think *this*" - he squeezed gently - "got the memo."
Groaning again, Chris pulled Greg down for another kiss. When they finally pulled back this time, they just stared at each other. Chris was so close to coming. So close. One more little squeeze from Greg and he would completely ruin his pants.
This was crazy. Insane. Fuck.
Greg leaned in and licked Chris' ear. "Like that? You're pretty close, aren't you, Chris? I bet this is your first time making out with a guy. Isn't it?"
Chris whimpered. There was no way he could speak with Greg's hot, whiskey soaked breath whispering such dirty things to him.
"I want you to come, Chris. Right here, right now."
Greg slid the zipper of his pants down and reached inside to stroke his cock.
It only took once.
Greg's smooth skin against his own was too much. Chris whimpered again and moaned as he came.
Grinning, Greg pressed their lips together again for a quick kiss.
"God, Greg," Chris breathed.
He reached down, a little awkwardly. He'd never touched another guy's dick and this angle was so different than what he was used to.
"I can wait until we get home. I think we're almost -"
The limo stopped and Greg scrambled off of Chris' lap.
Chris barely managed to get his pants zipped as the door opened.
They were both blushing as they got out of the limo and hurried inside.
[ main l rps l fps ]
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