inviting the fire, chapter five

[wouldbedorothy]

Beautiful banner by furriboots !!
http://i167.photobucket.com/albums/u122/lgbg/blueinvitingthefire2.jpg

Title: Inviting The Fire: Chapter Five
Author: wouldbedorothy  (AHS)
Pairing: Gale/Randy, OFC/G/R
Rating: only PG-13+ for the chapter; NC-17 fic
Series/Sequel: my guess is prologue, eleven chapters, epilogue... but subject to change
Summary: You can't invite the fire and then blame the burn... AU where G/R meet in 2000 but in a different place, different way... There is no QAF... Features a (non-Simon) third party... and is fairly kinky, at least for me, lol.  2125 words.  Gale stalks Randy ;)
Author's Notes: Do not worry about the things that are mentioned in the opening part!  They are only mentioned to be dismissed!  I'm not gonna pull anything sneaky on you guys!

Disclaimer: I don't know G or R, and obviously this didn't happen, because there definitely *was* a QAF.  Dylan's my character so I don't have to apologize for her (although according to Kat, that's *why* I have to apologize for her, lol).

Inviting The Fire
by AHS

Chapter Five


A few days after…

“We’ve had this conversation. Answers are the same… Mom, stop using that word.”

The word was marriage. Gale may have been the one with the filthy mouth, but he considered the M-word infinitely more objectionable than any of those colorful little ones in his vocabulary. He didn’t talk to his mother very often, but when she actually called and he actually picked up the phone… well, it was enough to remind him why they didn’t talk very often.

It was kind of hysterical how much she liked Dylan. They’d only met once, but she couldn’t say enough nice things about her. He was pretty sure it was more the very possibility of grandchildren than Dylan herself that his mother favored. He tried to tell her that Dylan didn’t want kids, and that she was even less marriage-minded than he was, but it never seemed to sink in. They’d been together for a long time (by his standards, anyway) because there was something easy there that seemed to work, but they never talked about the future.

He could probably stop his mother planning one for them if he just told her what a superfreak his girlfriend was. Challenge all her perfect Pentecostal sensibilities with details of Dylan’s porn-viewing habits and a play by play of the recent ménage a trois she had arranged. How, thanks to Dylan, his dick knew what it was like to fuck a guy’s ass and couldn’t seem to shake the sensation. How, if she had her way, he was going to know what it was like to have that same guy fuck him. He should tell her all that…

Maybe next time.

“Mom, I can’t hear you… bad connection… lots of static… what?… what?” he dramatized, fibbing rather convincingly and hanging up.

Gale had to go to the theatre, anyway. He was meeting Holly to discuss lighting cues, and then of course he had to pick up Dylan. He thought for a moment he should pick up some flowers for Dylan and take them to her. He wasn’t sure why.

Maybe he should get flowers for Randy, too… That thought skidded into his brain and out with an uneasy laugh.

He felt more awkward just thinking about seeing Randy again than he had when they’d said goodbye late that night. They’d told him he could stay… on the couch, or even in the fucking bed with them… but he’d said he should go. Dylan had kissed him on the cheek, but Gale hadn’t known what to do. You couldn’t shake the hand of a guy you just fucked. Wave? He’d be a cold bastard. A kiss on the cheek was okay for Dylan but lame coming from him, he’d decided, and a kiss on the mouth just seemed… like a bad idea. So he’d given Randy a hug that had been surprisingly comfortable.

Gale told himself it was the time that had passed and not the dreams he’d been having since that would make things awkward now.

Fuck, he was picking her up some flowers.

*****

Randy didn’t usually daydream so much. He enjoyed his job. It was quiet, most of the customers weren’t assholes, and when things were slow he got time to read. But, for the past couple of days, every time he picked up a book, the words would shift and blur on the pages until they formed some erotic tableau that always seemed to look like him and Gale.

The first post-fuck rehearsal had been… weird. Scenes went fine, but they weren’t exactly made easier by Dylan whispering in his ear between scenes about how hot Saturday night had been, and how he and Gale had looked when they were fucking, and the possibilities of *next* weekend…

Randy’s feelings about Dylan now were as convoluted as he’d ever experienced. He had respect for her as an actress, because she was certainly talented. He’d had the beginnings of a friendship with her and still thought she was basically a nice person. He had natural gratitude towards her for what she’d given him… Gale, no matter how temporarily or what her reasons. But he couldn’t help but resent her for being the one who got to keep Gale. He’d also seen her naked and coming, which he could have lived well without, and… shit, his dick had been in her mouth. However briefly, part of him wouldn’t forgive her for that.

He wondered if he was remembering the way Gale had been with him as something more than it was. Sure, he knew it was just a fuck, but was his mind inventing the kisses and the looks and the care Gale had taken? He didn’t think so. It sounded ridiculous… Gale protecting him from the big, bad girl… but he had.

Randy wondered, if he fucked Gale, if he would get to protect him from the big, bad girl.

*****

“Gale, this is so sweet. What made you get me flowers?”

“I need a reason?” They’re just your average I enjoyed fucking that guy you found for us *way* too much, sorry about that flowers.

“No, I love them.” Dylan looped her arm through his as they walked to the truck. “I just hope they’re not letting me down easy, about… you know.”

The three of them meeting up again. Randy fucking Gale. He’d said before he left that he would do it, if Gale wanted him to. “I haven’t decided about that yet.”

She sighed, playing put out. “You just let me know when you do, okay?”

Gale paused, then asked… casually… “So, why wasn’t Randy at rehearsal?”

“Oh, he was. But his boss changed his work schedule or something, and he had to leave early. Why?” They climbed in and she looked at him, eyes gleaming with laughter, though she didn’t laugh. “Do you miss your boyfriend already?”

“Fuck you, Dylan,” he ground out, starting up the engine.

“Shit…” Dylan clutched her flowers, not having expected that reaction. Gale rarely swore at her. And he was never the type of man to let an insinuation like that, obviously meant in kidding, bother him before. He was too comfortable in himself, which was one of the things she loved about him.

The drive home was short and silent. When Dylan opened her door and started to get out, Gale didn’t.

“I’m gonna drive around for a while,” he said.

“My God, are you really that mad at me?” she asked, worried. “You know how I am. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

He shook his head. “No, I know. I’m not mad… I swear, I’m not.” He really wasn’t. “I just feel like taking a drive.”

“Okay. You should do that then.” She leaned over and kissed his arm by the elbow. “Thanks again for my flowers, Gale. Come home… before too long.”

He watched her go inside, grateful that she knew him well enough to know that sometimes a drive helped to clear his head.

Even if he was fairly sure this one would only confuse him more.

*****

It was a cute little bookshop, called Page Turners. Gale had been in there a few times, but not recently… and never to stand behind a bookshelf, watching one of the employees… until now.

He had driven in circuitous routes for about half an hour and then found himself only ten minutes away from home, at the shop where he’d somehow remembered Randy worked. There to do… what?

Apparently, stalk Randy.

He’d damned the bell over the door that had clanged when he came in, then breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t standing behind the counter. Only to tense up again when he heard the familiar voice call, “I’ll be right with you!”

It was when he heard Randy’s footsteps and ducked behind a tall, wooden shelf, then watched through a gap in the books as he walked out and looked around, that Gale really started to wonder what the fuck his fucking problem was. Why the fuck he was even there. Why he didn’t just get back in his fucking truck and drive the fuck home.

And if he hadn’t been so busy cursing a blue streak in his own head, maybe he would have realized that his makeshift peephole worked both ways before he was suddenly staring at a big, blue eye.

“Gale?”

He stepped back, startled, and Randy came around to join him on the other side.

“I thought that was you. What are you doing here?”

“I was just… driving around. Gonna pick up some dinner for me and Dylan.” Yeah, he’d probably do that, now that he thought of it.

“Oh, well, unfortunately we have a strict policy against eating the books.” Randy chewed his lip to slightly tamp down his smile, tilting his head at Gale in confusion.

“Ha ha. No, I was just…”

“… in the neighborhood and thought you’d say hi?”

Gale looked relieved. “Yeah.”

Randy stopped holding his smile back. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

It had seemed as though they were the only two people in the shop, but apparently that wasn’t the case. A pointed clearing of the throat called Randy’s attention to a customer waiting to be rung up. He whispered “excuse me” and touched Gale’s shoulder briefly before hurrying over.

Randy silently marveled… as he worked the register, gave change, nodded, thanked… at the fact that Gale had come to see him. What was more, he actually seemed nervous. Not uncomfortable with what they’d done and wanting to pretend it never happened, but genuinely nervous, which was probably the only thing keeping Randy’s own nervousness under control.

The customer left, and before Randy could return to Gale, Gale had walked up to the counter and plunked down a find.

“What’s this?”

“This is called a book, Randy. Working in a bookstore, you should know that.”

“Very cute,” he said, not sure if he was talking about Gale’s little joke or his shit-eating grin. “You want to buy it?”

“Is that okay? That happens here, right?”

“From time to time.” Randy picked up the book and studied the cover. “Ansel Adams, huh? His photographs are really beautiful.”

“He was amazing.”

“You’re into photography?”

Gale nodded. “I’ve gotten paid for it a few times, but I’m not that good. It’s a cool hobby, though.”

Randy loved that he was learning things about Gale. They really hadn’t talked that much so far. But it felt like they were close enough to play with each other, even out of the bedroom. He took Gale’s credit card that had been laid in front of him and squinted at it. “Right, Mr.… Harold, if that is your real name. I’m going to have to see some ID.”

Gale smiled and stood there until he realized Randy, kidding or not, was actually waiting for him to show ID. You fuck a guy, you kind of expect a little recognition. “Don’t I look familiar?”

“Maybe.” Randy gave Gale’s body a roaming look of deep thought. “But, to prove it, it’s either your driver’s license or you drop your pants.”

The license seemed to come from nowhere and landed on the counter with a plastic thwap.

“Oh. Darn.” Randy suppressed a giggle and said nothing else, only located the information he was seeking and gave it back. “I didn’t know they let you get a license when you’re stoned. Nice picture.”

“Shut the fuck up. Everybody looks like that on their license. Let me see yours.”

Randy pulled out his wallet, amused, and handed it over. He watched Gale’s lips fall open.

“What, did you get them to use your headshot or something?” he asked incredulously.

“No,” Randy laughed, “that’s the standard DMV picture.” He reclaimed the little rectangle and put it away again.

“That’s just sick.” Gale goggled and Randy just kept laughing.

Eventually, they remembered that Gale was buying a book and Randy was selling a book and finished going through the motions of the transaction. Gale mumbled something about getting back to Dylan, and Randy mumbled thanks for stopping by. Gale reached for his purchase, but Randy picked it up before he could. Walked around the counter and stood behind Gale. Raised up on his toes and pressed his lower body lightly into Gale’s, while slipping the bag into his hand at his side.

“I think you’ll enjoy it,” Randy whispered. “I promise you.”

Once Gale had somehow made his way outside without embarrassing himself, he took out his cell phone and called Dylan.

“Hey… No, I’m fine… I just wanted to ask what you want for dinner… and also tell you that…” He swallowed. “I’m ready for round two.”