And Everything In Between... How It Began - G/R RPS
by Phobosgirl

This is a continuation of a partial story I posted several months ago called And Everything In Between (How It Ended). It is a Gale/Randy story that is told in three sections- somewhere during the filming of the first season, the hiatus between seasons 2 and 3, and sometime in the future.

Because each part could hold its own as a stand-alone, I'd sort of been writing all three simultaneously. Then I hit a snag. I finished the middle section (And Everything In Between (How It Ended).) but the other two parts stalled. Badly. So, I posted the middle part as a stand-alone. Now I've finished what was meant to be the final section, "How It Began", so I'm posting it, too, as a semi-stand-alone. You don't need to read the story in the above link to get this one.

Wow, I hope that makes sense!

EDIT: OMG I'm such a rude doofus, I totally forgot to send out great big things to the two lovelies who beta'd this for me!! Thank you darksylvia and vibrant_daphne!!

How It Began

They'd been ordered to get ice and told not to return until they'd found it. The party was in full swing when they left, a celebration for hitting the midway point of filming their first season. Really, though, that crowd didn't need a whole lot of encouragement to get shitfaced. That was an attitude Gale could get behind wholeheartedly.

He was sent to the convenience store down the street from Thea's place because he was the only one who, if pulled over by Toronto's finest, was still able to walk a straight line. Randy had been sent with him because he was utterly incapable of recognizing a straight line, and was singing show tunes so loudly that even Peter, a connoisseur of Broadway musicals, was rolling his eyes, laughing, and shoving the kid out the door.

They emerged from the Stop-n-Save into the chilly air with 40 pounds of ice in two 20 pound bags. Well, Randy was actually carrying them, cradling each one as if they were infants, and wobbling his way towards Gale's truck. Gale offered to help but was told in a too-loud voice that no help was needed or asked for. The fact that he was staggering, Randy declared, was not because of the weight of the ice, which was less than the nephew he claimed to cart around on his shoulders regularly, but because of the tequila he'd been consuming like water.

Gale wasn't certain which it was, he wasn't as adept yet at reading Randy as he'd become in the coming months and years, but he was deeply amused by the sight. In fact, the only thing keeping him from laughing out loud was the perfect understanding that Randy would retaliate by dropping one, if not both, bags on his foot if he did.

Gale strode ahead and opened the front passenger's door for Randy and then stood back and watched him bend over and place each bag carefully on the floor of Gale's truck. He had no idea until he did it that he was going to reach out and stroke Randy's exposed back where his jacket rode up. Randy seemed hardly to notice, but then Gale did something that he really wasn't expecting to do- he slid his warm palm up under Randy's jacket, pushing aside the cotton t-shirt he was wearing, to stroke his way up the ridges of Randy's spine. The goosebumps that rose under his fingertips made his dick twitch, and that was completely expected, since, lately, just thinking about Randy had been making him hard. A lot.

Randy stood up, confused, shivering, and suddenly keenly attentive to the fingers caressing their way up his back. Gale had never watched someone sober up as quickly as Randy appeared to, but he took the opportunity to step closer, until he was nearly pressed up against Randy's perky bottom. He dropped his chin over Randy's right shoulder in a gesture familiar to both of them, knowing that his breath was tickling Randy's ear.

Randy still hadn't moved, but Gale could see that his eyes were closed, that little scrunched crease between his brows indicating concentration and making Gale grin a little. He huffed warm air across Randy's cheek, his hand now swiping lazily back down his spine, and when Randy's mouth dropped open, a puff of fogged air leaving his lungs, Gale knew the time had come.

He slid his hand down to the top of Randy's jeans, dancing his fingers teasingly along the waistband to cup Randy's slim hip.

"In case you hadn't noticed, I've been falling pretty hard for you." He breathed softly into Randy's ear, wanting more than anything to snake his tongue out and lick the rim, but he refused to push Randy further than he might be ready to go.

Randy turned, then, with Gale's fingers grazing along his lower back until his hand was curved around the other hip. Randy was already shaking his head, ignoring the half-lidded expression Gale wore and the intimate way he leaned towards him, his forehead brushing Randy's cheekbone.

"No," Randy breathed, making no effort to step away or break the slight contact.

"No?" Gale murmured. "No, you didn't know? No, I'm not falling for you? Or no, you don't want this."

"I-" Randy cleared his throat softly, his arms hanging at his sides, palms burning with the need to reach up and touch his co-star. "I didn't know."

"Mmmm," Gale answered, his hair tickling Randy's temple, "now you do."

Randy offered a short, nervous laugh. "Now I do."

It was Randy who initiated their first real kiss, tentatively, his full lips parting just enough to give Gale glimpses into whole new possibilities. Gale was pretty sure he heard sappy, cheap music swell in the background but he couldn't be certain that it wasn't the Muzak spilling into the parking lot from the Stop-n-Save, and when Randy's kiss became more urgent, he stopped caring.

Kissing Justin, despite how it looked on screen, had always been a feat of technical wizardry and dedicated talent. Kissing Randy, though, was a little sloppy, tasted strongly of alcohol and cigarettes, and couldn't have been more perfect if it had been meticulously scripted.

Gale was familiar with love, he'd felt it enough times to recognize it without fear or hesitation, but this was something else, entirely. There was an ethereal quality about the way he was floating several feet off the pavement that would have disconcerted him, except that Randy's arms rose to clasp him firmly around the neck, tethering him.

Gale wondered if he was more stoned than he'd initially thought, and he was about to suggest that driving might be difficult if his feet refused to reach the pedals, when Randy said something so incongruous that experiencing love as a floating sensation no longer seemed all that strange.

"The ice is melting."

Gale's lips hovered half a breath away from Randy's.

"It is?"

"Mmm hmmm," Randy answered, and licked Gale's lips, making Gale think suddenly of white picket fences and matching BMWs in the driveway.

"Is that a good thing?" Gale didn't really feel icy, and if the heat radiating from Randy's skin was any indication, neither did he.

"No, doofus," and even though Randy had just insinuated that he wasn't too bright, it sounded like the highest praise to Gale. "It'll leave a puddle in your truck."

"In my truck?" Gale's head was still spinning because Randy was still licking, and he decided he really didn't care if a 16 ton weight was about to drop on his old heap of a vehicle, as long as Randy didn't stop touching him and pushing his tongue across the roof of Gale's mouth.

"And besides, you're straight," Randy whispered, nipping Gale's ear, and Gale stopped trying to puzzle out Randy's sudden bizarre train of thought.

"No, y'all just thought I was." Gale stretched his neck, giving Randy greater access to the tender flesh there, sighing in satisfaction when Randy took advantage and nibbled his way around to the other ear. "You're fucking hot, you know."

"I love it when you say 'y'all'."

As far as Gale was concerned, Randy could just breathe and that would be enough for him.

They never made it back to the party and it was more than a week before the pool of water created by 40 pounds of melted ice in the front seat floor of Gale's truck dried.

Gale never complained once.