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multipotentialitepisces · 3 months ago

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Can I Crash Here?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63717988

Greg Davies x Ed Gamble’s Sister! Reader

When Greg turns up at one of Ed’s blowout parties, you never expected to form such a strange, comfortable closeness with the comic you’d just met. Lots of fluffy fluffy fluff! I love domestic Greg being quietly romantic EEEEKKKK

A/N: Here’s another Greg fic that’s been sat in my drafts for a while! i’ve really been enjoying writing lately, and have a Ted Lasso fic in the works ❤️‍🩹 hope you love!

Ed’s parties were your idea of hell, to put it lightly. He was making far more money than he ever needed to, and yet he hadn’t got a bigger house to accommodate the extortionate numbers of guests. The last time he’d had a big blowout like this, you’d ended up sharing a bed with at least three comics whose names you wished you could remember. The amount of alcohol provided by Ed and everyone that arrived coupled with his lack of guest bedrooms meant it was utter chaos, and a complete nightmare for you who was typically living at Ed’s house for up to a week afterward. Tonight was going to be no different, no doubt.

It was the height of summer, and you had been staying at Ed and Charlie’s for the past few weeks after months of promoting your new book, and were knee deep in house hunting. The London property ladder was no joke.

Your older brother absolutely adored having someone to host when he wasn’t on tour, and you and Charlie got on like a house on fire, so staying at theirs was never a chore, but his huge parties often made you regret ever deciding to stay at his. The singular guest bedroom basically belonged to you, decked out with a queen size bed, a small chair in the corner, and a huge bay window looking out into the garden. You’d filled every surface with books, and adored your slow mornings sat reading watching the sun come up, enjoying a sense of serene peace at their house unlike anything you’d felt anywhere else. That was a stark contrast to the way you knew your peace would be upturned tonight once the drinks started flowing.

At 7.30 guests would be arriving, so you went to go and buy your drinks and anything else Ed and Charlie asked you for after you’d gotten dressed. Walking down the street towards the nearby corner shop, you cracked yourself up at the sight you’d be right now: wearing sheer tights and a black, 70s style minidress paired with your slippers and a seemingly ancient hoodie from a long-ago ex-boyfriend, along with your makeup clad face and immaculately styled hair – it was an overall silly outfit, but perfect for the occasion. As you lugged your bags of wine, cocktail sausages and other various party foods back to Ed’s, you felt yourself feeling quite optimistic about tonight. It was the first house party you’d been to in a while where it hadn’t been abysmal weather or full of people you’d never met, so it seemed like all was looking good. You’d been keeping the company of the British comic circuit for the past couple of decades ever since Ed entered the fray, now being able to call some of them your very best friends, meaning this should hopefully be a good, friendly get-together, but something told you it might go awry.

As you stepped back into the house, you saw Charlie putting out food on the dining table and Ed stuffing as many crates of beer into the already packed fridge.

‘Christ, how many people are you expecting, or are the three of us just getting absolutely bladdered?’

Ed swung around, simultaneously laughing at your incredulous face and grabbing another crate of beer for the fridge. ‘Only about 100 people tonight,’ he said, immediately turning back to pack the fridge with cans.

He didn’t catch the fact you blanched at the statement, not expecting that many people, but Charlie came in from the next room and made you blush crimson almost immediately.

‘Yeah, Greg’s coming tonight, you know.’ She offered you a side smirk, and Ed let out a less-than-attractive chortle from his post at the fridge door. It had been an ongoing joke in the house that you had an attraction to the Taskmaster. The three of you would watch the show together, and from the very beginning they had watched you turn pink at Greg’s very being there. Despite he and Ed’s close friendship, you’d never actually met the man. He was at Ed’s wedding, but your duties as maid of honour had meant you hadn’t had the time to converse with anyone new, and by the time you could, the exhaustion and emotion of the day meant you went to bed as soon as possible. Ed and Charlie only meant it as a joke, but you had somewhat fallen for him through friends’ anecdotes, and his stupid despotic persona on Taskmaster. The fact he was 6’8 also helped, considering you were the same height as your brother and finding a man taller and not emasculated by that was like finding a needle in a haystack.

Trying to act nonchalant was not one of your strong points, so you just looked at Charlie and laughed ‘We’ll see how that goes’ and then excused yourself to finish getting ready.

As you touched up your hair and makeup, and strapped on your heels, the nerves in your stomach got worse and worse as you could hear people arriving downstairs. You’d brought a bottle of wine that you’d bought upstairs to your room for some Dutch courage and had already drank half of it, but it wasn’t making you feel any less nervous, especially knowing that Greg would be descending soon.

Eventually you bucked up your courage, aided by the knowledge you’d be able to eat and make some cocktails, and you made your way downstairs. Immediately you were met by Charlie, entertaining a hoard of female comics in the living room, and a subsequent swathe of compliments on everything possible. It made your nerves dissipate slightly, until Ed came and nudged you in the side, winking about when Greg might possibly get here, earning you more questions from all of the ladies in front of you.

It was sweet relief when you saw Lou Sanders stroll through the door, immaculately dressed and clutching two bottles of ice-cold champagne. You scooped each other into a hug and immediately the news about Greg came spilling from your mouth. You were expecting a sorrowful and understanding reaction, but instead in classic Lou fashion, you were met with a scream of ‘Oh my God! You’re definitely getting laid tonight!’ and then the resounding ‘Pop!’ of a champagne being opened and thrust into your hand. Any anxiety you had was replaced with excitement. You were immensely glad for Lou’s presence, making you feel confident rather than terrified.

The kitchen was completely deserted as the party was in full swing, but as you rounded the corner, breathing deeply to get some time to yourself after having non-stop small talk with people you hadn’t seen in years and introductions to people you’d never met, you didn’t have time to prepare for the inevitable meeting with Greg as you heard his voice reverberate around the quiet room in comparison to the thump of bass throughout the rest of the house. ‘You alright there?’

You hoped he didn’t realise you jumped when he spoke, but his slight smile told you he definitely did. ‘Overwhelmed. Why are you hiding in here?’ It was such an odd experience feeling Greg’s presence in person. Despite the casual nature of the meeting, you couldn’t help yourself blushing, and you were very grateful for the dim lighting to hide the crimson creeping to your ears.

‘I’m only here for the food, might as well stay where it is.’ He said, taking a long drink from his beer, lounging in a dining chair in the link between the two rooms. You were struggling to keep your eyes off him, half in disbelief that he was actually in a room alone with you, and at how good he looked in person. Distracting yourself with making a drink, you were kicking yourself for not continuing the conversation, but you needn’t have worried for long as he made his way over to the kitchen counter where you were mashing mint leaves inside of a cocktail shaker. ‘What on earth are you making?’ He was stood basically completely behind you, his height shocking you. Of course you knew he was almost a foot taller than you, but wearing your heels and feeling him essentially breathing down your neck was a shocking realisation, finally acknowledging just how attracted you were to him despite this being your first meeting. You were inevitably nervous, but the closeness between the two of you seemed to come easy, and distracting yourself by doing something with your hands made it easier to converse with him.

‘A Hugo Spritz.’ You continued mashing the mint leaves in the bottom of the shaker, sneaking a look behind you to see the expression on his face. The one you were met with made you laugh, his eyebrows furrowed closely together beneath his glasses, but with a slight smirk on his face. ‘It’s elderflower, gin, prosecco, lime and mint. Want one? Its nicer than that shit beer Ed bought in bulk, I’ll tell you that for free.’ You added, looking slightly disgusted as you glanced at the half empty amber bottle on the counter.

‘Alright, go on then.’ You could hear the questionable smile in his voice as he moved to your left, leaning his back against the counter and facing you, watching you somewhat intensely as you manoeuvred around the kitchen in search of ice and other ingredients. Eventually you presented Greg and yourself with two wine glasses filled with ice and adorned with a lime wedge and sprig of mint. He looked, once again, questionably at the slightly effeminate drink in his hand, but clearly he was in the mood for being a good sport, and looked down at you with bright eyes as he took a sip. He seemed pleasantly surprised by the cocktail you’d offered, and continued drinking as you cleaned up your mess. The two of you slipped into a reverie, him stood with his back against the island, and you sat with your legs dangling next to him, sipping at your drinks and gazing out of the French doors into the almost dark sky outside.

That was swiftly broken as Ed essentially stumbled through the door from the hallway, flooding the quiet kitchen with loud music and chatter, and Ed’s own drunken laughter, ripping you and Greg out of your companionable silence. The two of you shared a quick glance as you turned to look at Ed, and Greg’s face cracked into a huge smile as he embraced Ed.

‘When did you get here?’ a clearly incredulous Ed asked the man he seemed to be clinging on for dear life to.

‘Almost an hour ago, slipped in through the back door.’ Greg released Ed, and only then did your brother realise who had been keeping him company and hiding him from other guests all this time.

‘I see you’ve met my little sister.’ Ed said, slipping a wink towards you and clapping Greg on the back.

‘Yeah, mate. She’s made me a drink and not told anyone I’m here, so she’s kept me happy.’

‘I bet.’ Ed’s cheeky comment may have slipped past an uninformed Greg, but certainly did not slip past you as you once again turned crimson for the umpteenth time that evening.

‘I’m off for a smoke, I’ll see you boys later.’ You slipped through the French doors, both of the men watching your retreating figure disappear into the cold evening. You sat yourself on one of the sofas, sitting lengthways to stretch out your aching legs and feet from being stood in stilettos all evening. As you closed your eyes and breathed in deeply, the warm smoke filling your throat immediately relaxed you. Ed hadn’t said anything too incriminating, but staying in that conversation would have made it harder for you to speak to Greg like a normal person, and you weren’t feeling much less overwhelmed than when you snuck into the kitchen in the first place. After a while, once the immediate effects of your cigarette had passed, you realised you’d forgotten your drink.

You looked back into the house to go and collect it, and possibly a jacket from your room, enjoying the serenity of the garden much more than the house itself, but as you turned your head you saw Greg making his way towards you with both of your cocktails in hand. He walked around to the front of the seat, handing you your drink, and tapped your toes to signal he wanted to sit on the end of the sofa. You scooched back a little to allow more room, and adopted somewhat of a fetal position in the seat. When he’d settled himself and looked back to you, the sight made him laugh at how clearly uncomfortable it must have been.

‘Oh come on, that can’t be nice.’

‘I’m fine. Thanks for bringing my drink, by the way.’

‘Either take your shoes off or just stretch back out again, I don’t mind being a foot rest for a pretty lady like yourself. Anyway, I didn’t think you young folk smoked anymore.’

You tried not to acknowledge how excited his ‘pretty lady’ comment made you, trying to calm yourself down with the fact it was an offhand joke and get back to the actual conversation happening. ‘I’m 35, I’m not exactly doing my GCSEs am I?’

‘I mean I knew you were Ed’s younger sister, but I didn’t think you were that close in age. I thought you must’ve been about a decade younger.’

‘Nope, just over three years between me and Eddy. Obviously I’m the favourite child.’

‘Well I’ve only met you tonight and youre definitely higher on my rankings than Ed is.’

Greg’s flattering words gave you the confidence to stretch your legs back out onto his lap. It was only fair considering how enormous the width of his manspread was. You slowly removed one foot and then another from being flat to the wicker surface of the chair, moving almost like a stork to place one ankle on top of his suit-clad thigh, and then another, crossing your legs at the ankle. The warmth from his leg was almost radioactive, especially in the chilly breeze. It made you shiver, but then Greg placed an even warmer palm on top of your ankle, making you inhale quickly with shock. Once again, the immediate closeness and comfort the two of you felt was like nothing you’d ever experienced. The two of you got talking, smoked a couple of cigarettes, and shared dirty secrets about the comedy circuit before moving onto the far too intimate topic of exes.

‘Weren’t you with Acaster a few years ago?’ Greg asked you, now unafraid to make extended eye contact with the easiness of the conversation.

The liqueur had loosened you up enough to be fully expressive, and at the embarrassing memory of the papers catching you and James out for dinner made you instinctively pull your knees back into your chest and hide your face with your hand, but Greg’s hand was on your ankle, stopping you from hiding yourself. He was laughing along with your embarrassment. He could feel that whatever he’d read in the news about Ed’s sister had been a misunderstanding, but being the typical men they were, neither Ed nor James wanted to talk about it, and Ed got suspicious when Greg started to pry, so he had to back off. He’d be lying if he hadn’t felt a pang of jealousy over his younger friend’s dating of Ed’s sister. He knew it was ridiculous, even back then, to have a slight crush on a woman he’d never met, but most of his friends only had good things to say about you, and the mystery around your clandestine dating history intrigued him more than he’d like to admit.

‘Alright then, what went on, ‘cause I’ve clearly got the wrong end of the stick?’

‘God I can’t believe you of all people have asked me about this!’ You were properly laughing now, and you could feel Greg’s body moving with his own laughter, relaxing you further into telling the story. He tried to push the question of what ‘you of all people’ could possibly mean, but he focused on the task at hand. ‘He’d just been cheated on, I’d just been cheated on. We went for dinner, we’ve been friends basically since Ed got to know him, and that is literally it! I don’t know why everyone and their mother asks me about it!’ You were getting exasperated all over again, the memory of the buzz of news irritating you. You had been in precisely one scandal, and it was that one, and your agent had kept you from seeing the worst of it.

‘Because the paparazzi thought there’d be a comic royal wedding, apparently. And some other truly crass things I’d not be able to look you in the eye after saying.’ Greg confessed. Even in the darkness, you could see he was a little uncomfortable just hedging around it, but you were in too deep and too drunk and too confused to not ask.

‘What? Like what?’ You sat up a bit straighter, with Greg’s hand on your leg tightening slightly. It was keeping the two of you present and aware of precisely what was going on, despite how overwhelmed you both were that this meeting had finally happened and was going better than you could ever have imagined.

‘Just some crude things, and that you were the other woman for James. It was a really strange time for all the Britcom lot because it was so obviously not something Acaster would do, and Ed went round defending both of your honours. Usually if theres an awful bit of gossip going around, we all take the piss a bit, regardless of how bad it is, but this time it kind of struck a chord because the two of you are so loved in all of our circles, and I’m just so relieved nothing like that has ever come out again.’ Greg seemed to visibly relax as he finished talking, and was absentmindedly stroking his hand up and down your stockinged shin.

‘I mean, that’s not as bad as I was expecting. I’m glad I wasn’t a punching bag for the comedy circuit because I’ve stayed out of public bother for a reason, and that’s one of them.’ At the clear relief the two of you felt, you downed your drink and shivered, which Greg noticed as goosebumps appeared beneath his palm.

‘Are you alright? Do you want to go back inside?’ Once again, Greg’s furrowed eyebrows returned, and he released your legs to allow you both to head inside. He grabbed two beers from the fridge and cracked them open, handing you one and cheersing your bottle with a ‘clink.’ The two of you headed into the packed living room. For the fact Ed and Charlie’s house only had two bedrooms, the downstairs was perfect for entertaining. With an adjoining kitchen and dining room and a huge living room, it could host more people than it could ever hope to house, and as you entered the huge living room, everyone within a metre radius turned and looked at who had just snuck in. Lots of excited faces were lit up at the sight of Greg, but Ed, James, and all of your nearest and dearest friends were laser focused on the sight of Greg’s hand ghosting your lower back. You were immediately regretting re-entering the party, but Greg’s hand lightly holding your lower back made you feel less alone and less terrified, but you didn’t have much time to process those feelings as you were swept into a hug by James.

‘Where have you been hiding all night with Greg, eh?’ His eyebrows shot up and down rapidly, suggestively implying you’d been doing something devious, when the reality was far more boring.

‘We had a smoke in the garden, James. Nothing exciting.’ You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile snaking its way across your face as you gazed up at him in his tight embrace. He pulled you in closer, pressing your face into the corduroy of his jacket, feeling the warmth of someone who’d not been sat outside for the past hour.

It was nice being with your friends, and you missed spending quality time with them, especially when Lou dragged you into the kitchen to explain every single detail of your interaction with Greg, as she failed at hiding her disappointment that he hadn’t ravished you in the downstairs loo. The two of you went back to your group of friends once again in the living room, having catchups with Nish, Aisling and Charlie as it had been so long since all of you had been together. A sort of silence descended on your friends, however, as you felt a familiar hand holding your lower back once again. Greg had squeezed himself in, standing beside you with his right hand cupping your waist. Nish’s face was a picture, the classic image of complete glee and disbelief that he sometimes liked to break out when he was processing something groundbreaking. He was beaming up at Greg, having a vague conversation about how their lives were going since the last time they’d spoken, but his light eyes kept darting back to you, making you lose focus as you tried to remain engaged in whatever Aisling was telling you about. Nish seemed to become a teenage boy whenever anyone had an inkling of romance, especially you with your abysmal dating history, so his incessant glances made you blush.

A few more hours later of socialising and drinking heavily, there were people sleeping on couches and the party was clearly winding down. You had decided to start clearing up the kitchen, filling the dishwasher and stacking plates in the sink, and throwing out any discarded food so the overall clear up would be easier for you all in the morning. Typically those who had crashed would help put the place back into an orderly fashion, but it gave you time to wind down and prepare yourself to go to bed. You were organising the dishwasher when someone leaned over to slide a plate in, and you recognised the large hand and black blazered wrist immediately. Greg was clearly drunk, and as you stood up to close the dishwasher, he wobbled slightly, relying on the steadiness of the kitchen counter next to him for balance.

‘Do you know of anywhere I can crash tonight? The couch isn’t even long enough for Ed, nevermind me.’ Greg laughed, sounding slightly slurred, but soft and tired by the alcohol and the winding down of the party.

You leaned your hip against the counter and pursed your lips, thinking of what would be acceptable for a man of his height. Ed and Charlie had already gone to sleep, so their bed wouldn’t be any use, and none of the couches were long enough. Your bed was huge and it would only be you in it, but you didn’t know if that would cross a line. You’d have been happy taking the armchair in your room, knowing you’d wake early anyway, so the uncomfortable position wouldn’t be too much of a pain. The alcohol had loosened your lips and made you more confident, and you supposed you had nothing to lose.

‘Well, I’ve got a queen bed if you want to sleep in my room. I’m happy to take the chair if you’re okay with sharing a room.’

‘I mean, that would be great, if you don’t mind.’

‘I’ll show you the way now and you can freshen up.’

As you and Greg made your way up the stairs and into your room in tandem, you felt the pain of your feet throbbing in your shoes, and sat down in the armchair in front of the window to remove them immediately. Greg sat on the side of the bed closest to you, removing his blazer and shoes. An image of the two of you like this in your own home every night after returning home popped into your head, but you swept it out quickly, not allowing yourself to gain any false hope. As you sat back in the chair, tucking your feet underneath yourself, you saw Greg focusing intensely on you.

You chuckled ‘what?’

‘Is that the chair you plan on sleeping on?’ Greg looked quizzically at you, that half-cracked smile making its way across his face, wrinkling all the way up into the corners of his eyes.

‘Yeah, I’ll wake up early anyway so it doesn’t really matter. Anyway, here’s the ensuite. I’m going to let you sort yourself out and then I’ll be back in a bit. Make yourself comfortable.’

‘Right, I’m not letting you sleep in that child sized chair, Jesus Christ. We’ll just share, it’ll be fine.’ He clearly found your insistence on sleeping in the chair to avoid making either of you uncomfortable both very endearing and very funny, but you were too exhausted to really notice.

‘Only if you’re sure. I’ll be back in a minute. Get yourself comfy and I’ll be back in a bit and then we can figure this out.’ As you left the room you heard a soft chuckle, and then the sound of the bathroom light being turned on.

You’d made yourself a cup of tea and a plate of leftover party food to snack on as you got ready for bed, and then headed back upstairs untethered by your painful shoes. As you made your way into your bedroom, Greg was lying on top of one side of your bed reading the book on your bedside table, making sure to keep your bookmark in the correct page. He looked incredibly comfortable, lounging as if he lived there and appeared half asleep, clearly content in the space you found most peaceful. He had unbuttoned the top of his crisp black dress shirt, and as he noticed you returning to the room, he looked up and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

‘I brought us some snacks.’ You placed the grazing platter on the middle of the duvet, between where the two of you were inevitably sleeping based on the position Greg had adopted. ‘Do you fancy a cuppa? I can make you one if you like.’

‘No, I’m okay, thank you. I can’t in good conscience let you sleep on that godawful chair, so it’s either we share, or I’ll put a sleeping bag on the dining table. The choice is yours, sweetheart.’ With that, he slammed your book shut and got up to fill a glass with water, walking past you to the bathroom allowing you to get a waft of his cologne and a scent that was unmistakably his own.

‘Fine. We’ll share. I’m an early riser anyway.’ You heard a chuckle from the bathroom, and saw his face cracked with laughter as he emerged. You turned to rifle through the ancient chest of drawers next to your bedside table, focusing your exhausted eyes on the pyjamas you wanted. The exhaustion and preoccupation combined with the strange yet comfortable intimacy you and Greg felt immediately when in each other’s presence made you completely oblivious to the way his eyes refused to leave your back until you retreated into the bathroom. He guessed what you were doing as different sounds reached his ears: brushing your teeth, washing your face, going to the loo and then getting changed. You emerged from the bathroom looking more beautiful than ever, with hair piled on top of your head, fresh faced and bundled up in pyjamas despite it being the heat of summer.

As you clambered into bed, tucking yourself beneath the covers, you text Ed, knowing he’d see it in the morning, congratulating him on another great party. Greg silently put your book back on his side of the bed, and watched as you fell asleep. He could tell you were exhausted, and as soon as you’d text Ed, you were almost immediately asleep. Greg got up from his side of the bed, very slowly as to not wake you, and placed your phone onto charge on the bedside table. He closed the curtains, and pulled the duvet up further onto your shoulders, ensuring you’d be warm and comfortable. He then turned all of the lights and lamps off and got into bed, taking one last look at you breathing softly next to him.

In the morning, Ed and Charlie were up unusually early for the night that they’d had before. Ed was used to waking up with a banging headache and feeling like he’d not drunk water in months, hearing the blaring speaker and clattering of dishes from you cleaning up in the kitchen. Typically he’d trudge down, squinting as the light got brighter in the kitchen, begging you to make less noise so his brain wouldn’t feel like it was two times too large to fit inside of his skull. This morning, however, was different. He made his way unsteadily down the stairs, and seeing the kitchen in the same state as last night, and the living room filled with his sleeping drunken friends, he checked the clock on the wall to make sure it wasn’t 4am and that he wasn’t dreaming. It was 9am, and you were nowhere to be found. Unheard of. Ed set off in search of you, heading back upstairs and knocking quietly on your bedroom door. Once he was a hundred percent certain there was no answer, he sheepishly opened the door and peered around it, almost jumping at the sight in front of him.

Through the cracks in the blinds and curtains where the early morning summer sun was pouring in, Ed saw you and Greg Davies sleeping soundly in each others arms. Greg was snoring softly, and had his arm around your back, breathing in the scent of your shampoo with every inhale, timed perfectly to your own. You had your head on his chest and an arm wrapped around his torso. The top of the duvet cover had moved down throughout the night, allowing Ed to see the configuration of the two of you. He thought some miracle must’ve happened, with his little sister sleeping past 7am, and sleeping in the arms of a man she’d fancied for years. Ed smirked, closed the door, ensuring not to make any sound, and went to spill the beans to his wife immediately, but not before snapping a photograph of the two of you entangled and soundly sleeping.

#greg davies #greg davies x reader #ed gamble #taskmaster rpf

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