Aegis By Kalimyre Rating: PG Pairing: Ryan/Colin Summary: Self-indulgent H/C cuddlefic, also known as the one where Colin gets sick and Ryan worries and takes care of him. With bonus Helping Hands yummies. Notes: Once again, this is Clay’s fault. It always is. Thanks to go her and also to Indy, who laughed at a story subtitled “sickfic.” ~~~ When he got off the plane feeling ten times worse than when he’d boarded, Colin knew it was going to be a bad day. Airplanes were uncomfortable at the best of times, and since he’d managed to wake up with a cold that morning the plane had felt freezing and airless and left him with a pounding headache. He shuffled through the airport, keeping his head down and occasionally smothering a cough in one hand. Dragging his little carryon behind him and glad he’d learned to pack light enough to avoid the endless wait and crowding of the baggage claim, he walked out into the thick, hot air of Los Angeles. Colin could feel the smog wrap around his chest like a quilt, so much that taking a deep breath actually hurt for a moment, until he adjusted. There was a line of cabs waiting in the loading zone and he got in the closest one, shivering in the overly air-conditioned interior. Colin gave the address for his usual hotel and slumped in the backseat, coughing again. He shook his head, wincing at the ache in his chest. It was days like this that made him think it was really time to quit smoking. There was time for a quick nap in the hotel before the taping that evening, and Colin woke feeling marginally better. A hot shower finally seemed to thaw him a little, although he shivered again as soon as he stepped back into the artificially cooled hotel room. He swallowed a couple Tylenol and checked his watch, frowning when he realized he was still moving too slow. Another cab to the studio, and for an extra ten bucks, the driver got him there with time to spare. Then the familiar backstage, with hurrying techs making last minute adjustments and a crew member Colin didn’t recognize ushering him along to wardrobe and makeup, while he nodded agreeably and hoped for a shirt with long sleeves. The studio was having one of its freezing days. “Hey, there he is.” Colin smiled, tugging the white napkin out of his shirt collar as the makeup artist finished. “Hi,” he said. “Were you looking for me?” Ryan shrugged and just looked at him for a moment, head tilted to one side, smiling slightly. “Good to see you again,” he said, pulling Colin into an easy hug. “Yeah.” Colin closed his eyes for a long moment and took a deep breath, coughing halfway through. “You okay?” Ryan asked, clapping him on the back. “Sure.” Colin sighed and cleared his throat. “Just coming down with a cold, I think. Great timing, isn’t it?” “If you’re sick...” “No, no,” Colin interrupted, holding a hand up. “I’m fine. Can’t make any guarantees about you, though.” Ryan shook his head, looking confused. “What?” “Well, I may be contagious, after all.” Colin leaned in closer, lowering his voice, although the makeup artist had already left to take care of someone else and the room was otherwise empty. “Or is this visit somehow different from all the others?” Ryan grinned and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Um, no... I figured we’d spend a little time together. Are you coming over later?” “Planned on it,” Colin replied, allowing his hand to curl into Ryan’s for a moment before pulling back. “We could just hang out, I suppose. Watch movies or something. I mean, if you’re worried about getting sick.” Ryan’s arm slipped around his waist, fingertips just brushing beneath the hem of his shirt. “I think I’ll risk it,” he said, his voice low and close in Colin’s ear. Colin chuckled. “I thought you might.” He heard Drew’s voice approaching in the hall and stepped back, putting some space between him and Ryan. “Hey, Drew,” he said once the other man came into sight. “Oh hi, Colin!” Drew pulled him in to a quick one-armed hug and shook his hand. “You ready for the show?” “Sure.” Colin bounced a little on his heels, wrapping his arms around his chest. “Did they not pay the heating bill again?” Drew laughed, shrugging. “I don’t know, but hey, at least it’s not as bad this time. It’s almost warm.” He patted Colin on the shoulder, then turned toward the door, giving a little wave. “It’s great seeing you again, you know? I’ve got to talk to Dan a little, and then we’ll be on stage. Let’s say... ten minutes, okay?” Ryan and Colin nodded and watched him go. Colin felt Ryan come up behind him, not quite touching him but close enough to feel his presence. “We should get out there,” Ryan said. “Mmm,” Colin murmured. “We should.” Ryan’s hands touched his waist, palms wide and warm against him for a moment, before he pulled away. “You’re not moving,” he pointed out, and Colin could hear the smile in his voice. “You aren’t either,” Colin countered, and leaned back slightly, letting his shoulders rest against Ryan’s chest. He found his eyes drifting shut again and shook himself, rubbing his hands briskly over his face. “What was that?” “Just trying to wake up. I had the flight this morning and I think I’m still jet-lagged.” Colin turned, blinking up at Ryan, wishing they could blow off the taping, go back to Ryan’s place and sleep for a week. With a soak in the hot tub first, because that sounded heavenly. Ryan made a face, shuddering theatrically. “I’m just glad I can drive to these things.” Colin nodded, slipping a hand around Ryan’s upper arm and squeezing gently. “We really should get out there. They’ll come looking for us soon.” “Probably,” Ryan agreed, and ran his knuckles up and down the center of Colin’s back with just enough pressure to make Colin want to lean into it. “We’ll throw the schedule off.” “Very irresponsible of us,” Ryan said, nodding. “And of course, the audience will be waiting. It’s not polite to just leave them hanging,” Colin continued, not sure if he wanted Ryan closer or further away. Distance would make resisting temptation easier, but proximity would give him an excuse to not resist at all. “You’re right. We really should go.” Ryan edged toward the door, and then paused, waiting. “Then again,” Colin said, biting back a smile. “It’s not as if they’ll start the show without us. If we happened to be a few minutes late...” “Coincidentally, I have a dressing room with a locking door just down the hall,” Ryan said, as if he’d just thought of it. “Do you?” Colin blinked thoughtfully. “Why, what purpose could that serve?” “Maybe if we went there, we could think of something,” Ryan suggested. Colin nodded and stuck his head out into the hallway, looking both directions. He could feel Ryan beside him, one hand on the small of his back, holding him steady. They crept out into the hall and Ryan flattened himself against the wall, holding his hands up as if they were a gun, then gestured Colin forward. Colin covered his mouth to muffle a laugh that turned into another cough, and slipped down the hall. “There you two are!” They froze, and Ryan sighed, putting his imaginary gun back on his hip. “So close,” he murmured. Colin smiled ruefully. “Hey, Wayne,” he said, waving as the young man approached them. “You found us.” “Yeah, Drew asked me to look for you,” Wayne said. He patted Colin on the back in greeting, beaming up at him. “What were you doing?” Colin exchanged a glance with Ryan and shrugged. “Just got distracted, I guess.” “My fault,” Ryan said, walking with them toward the stage. “I’m very distracting.” “Yes, you are,” Colin agreed with a tight-lipped smile. “Very.” Wayne looked back and forth between them, his eyes narrowed. “What... no, you know what? I don’t really want to know.” “Smart man,” Ryan said. They walked out on stage to the cheers of the crowd, Greg already in his seat waving at them, and Dan standing off to the side giving them a pointed look and tapping his watch. “Oh dear,” Colin said from the corner of his mouth. “We’ve upset him.” “I can live with that,” Ryan replied. “You ready to go?” Colin grinned. “Always.” ~~~ The first hour was mostly okay, although the Tylenol didn’t seem to be making any progress against Colin’s headache. The bright stage lights made him want to close his eyes, and closing his eyes made him want to doze off, which served him right, he supposed. He’d been doing this long enough to know better than scheduling a flight and a show on the same day, but Whose Line wasn’t his only job, after all. His work back home had run late, and his planned settling in day had been sacrificed. He was still coughing, but he managed to hide it most of the time, and work it into the games when he had to. It was starting to become one of those deep, rattling coughs that seemed to bring up half a lung every time, and Colin hoped fervently that he didn’t lose his voice. That would surely bring the taping to a halt, which was the last thing he wanted. On stage with his friends was his favorite, most comfortable place to be, not counting the few days he managed to steal with Ryan. Colin was pleased to see the stagehands carrying the setup for Helping Hands during one of their performance breaks. A lot of fun could be had with that game, and since he didn’t have to actually speak or even show his face to the audience, he could relax a little. “Oh boy,” Ryan muttered beside him, eying the food on the table. “Here we go again.” Colin shrugged, looking at the home style dinner--meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans, complete with apple pie--with disinterest. He hadn’t been hungry all day, and the thought of food was vaguely repulsive. “Maybe you won’t have to eat any.” Ryan snorted. “Right. I can hear you plotting from here, you know.” “Me?” Colin tried for an innocent blink, but gave it up as requiring too much effort halfway through. “You’ll be fine,” he said, taking a sip of water to fight back another rising cough. “Are you okay?” Colin frowned, giving Ryan a puzzled look. “I’m fine. Why do you keep asking me that?” “You seem off,” Ryan replied, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m just tired.” Colin put on a reassuring smile, then leaned in close, dipping his voice a little lower even though the sound system was off at the moment and their mikes were dead. “I think I’ll go to bed right after the taping.” Ryan’s lips twitched, fighting a smile. “That sounds like a good idea.” “I’m glad you think so.” Then Mark, the stage manager, caught their attention, waving them forward. It was time to get ready for the game, which for Colin meant donning an extra shirt over his own to match the plaid flannel one Ryan was putting on. He was glad of the warmth, although the thin material didn’t do much to protect him from the relentless blast of the air conditioning. Ryan, on the other hand, was a much better source of heat and Colin sighed in relief as he slipped his arms around the other man’s waist. Drew was already beginning the intro, welcoming the audience back from the break and explaining the game, but Colin figured he had at least a minute before he had to actually do anything. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the back of Ryan’s shoulder. He could feel warmth banded around his back, Ryan’s arms snug and familiar, and he soaked it up, pressing as close as he could. Ryan’s shirt was soft against his cheek, the rhythm of Ryan’s breathing steady and calm, and it was so very tempting to just let himself drift. Colin thought he could almost fall asleep right there, standing up, although to be fair Ryan was probably taking more of his weight than Colin was by that point. It startled him when Ryan started to speak, the rumble reaching him more by feel than sound, and he jumped, raising his hands automatically and moving them to Ryan’s directions. He’d pretty much blanked on the explanation of the game, and so had no idea who Ryan’s character was or why he was having dinner with Drew, but it was easy enough to pick up on Ryan’s cues anyway. “I’m sure your meatloaf is fine, honey,” Ryan said, and Colin saw Drew affect an anxious face. He smiled a little when he noticed Drew’s flowered apron and wig, complete with big pink curlers. Colin felt for the meatloaf, breaking off a large chunk and shaping it into a ball in his hands, glad of the warmth but not the grease. When he brought it up to feed to Ryan, he could clearly smell the hamburger and garlic, with a heavy coat of cloyingly sweet ketchup and he held his breath, swallowing hard. “Um, that’s...” Ryan mumbled through a mouthful, clearly having trouble getting it down. Colin held his hand up obediently, palm open, and Ryan spat the food into it. He’d done it a hundred times in a hundred different games and it normally didn’t faze Colin at all, but this time his stomach lurched and he dropped the food quickly, wiping his hands on Ryan’s chest. “It’s terrible, isn’t it?” Drew wailed, wringing his hands. “I’m never going to impress your mother, she’ll hate me.” “No, no,” Ryan replied, and Colin waved his hands soothingly, then patted Drew’s cheek. Drew wrinkled his nose and wiped residue of semi-chewed meatloaf from his face, giving Colin a rueful smile. “It just needs some gravy,” Ryan finished. Colin reached until he felt the gravy boat, and dipped his fingers in cautiously, hoping it wasn’t too hot. He grimaced against Ryan’s shoulder when he found it barely lukewarm and partially congealed. He dipped his hand in and got a little pool of gravy in his palm, then lifted it questioningly. Ryan nodded and Colin was once again glad he wasn’t the one eating this stuff. He brought the hand up to Ryan’s chin, allowing him to lap the gravy up with his tongue. “Oh yeah,” Ryan said, his voice strained. “That’s... flavorful.” Colin caught a whiff of thick, overly salted gravy and turned his head away, pressing his mouth and nose against Ryan’s back. He dropped his hand as soon as Ryan leaned away from it, flinging a few drops of gravy in Drew’s direction. Drew squawked and jumped back, and Colin felt Ryan’s back shake in a silent laugh. He kept his eyes closed, stealing a little rest while Ryan and Drew talked a bit more. Colin listened enough to keep up with the gestures and respond when Ryan mentioned the mashed potatoes, which he wanted to use as a facial mask. “Mother will love it,” he told Drew. “Especially when she sees what it’s done for you.” Colin grinned and scooped up some potatoes, holding the handful out toward Drew’s face, but Drew stepped back quickly. “Oh, no, you first,” he said, laughing. Ryan sighed, but Colin felt his slight nod and complied, bringing the mashed potatoes carefully to his face and patting them onto his cheeks. Most of them fell right back off again and Colin rubbed the bits that were left, as if they would be absorbed into the skin. “But you can’t have mashed potatoes without gravy!” Ryan called out, and Colin shook his head slightly. It was always amazing what Ryan would do in this game for a laugh. Still, he was only the hands, not the head, so he did as he was told and scooped up more gravy, stroking it delicately along Ryan’s cheekbones and nose. Unfortunately, bringing the gravy that close meant he got to smell it again, and his stomach performed an uneasy roll. Colin closed his eyes and exhaled carefully, gritting his teeth. Wayne, the “winner” and therefore at the desk, buzzed them and Colin dropped his hands with relief, resting his cheek against the back of Ryan’s neck for a long moment before pulling away. Ryan picked up a towel while Drew reeled off his usual line about them being right back and took them into the break. Colin took the other end of the towel, focusing on getting his hands clean and carefully not looking at the mess of food on the table. He could still smell the gravy, and could imagine how it would feel in his mouth, greasy and cold, unpleasantly slick. He shuddered and swallowed again, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Colin? You okay?” Ryan asked, stepping close to him. Colin nodded, not quite daring to open his mouth. He held his hands up, rubbing his fingertips together distastefully. When Ryan just stared at him blankly, he took a deep breath and spoke fast. “Towel’s not working. I’m going to go wash my hands.” Then he turned, heading off the stage at a rapid walk, hands clenched at his sides. There was a bathroom just down the hall backstage and Colin ducked into it, dropping to his knees in the nearest stall and knocking the door shut with an elbow. For a moment, he wasn’t sure it was going to happen, but then his body seemed to register that it was now allowed to throw up, and promptly complied. It was quick, at least, since his stomach had nothing in it but the water he’d been sipping during the show. When he was done, Colin shut the lid and folded his arms on it, resting his head until he could catch his breath. When he did stand, his legs were watery, the muscles uncooperative. He braced himself against the stall and stayed still until the trembling eased a bit, and then he shuffled to the sink, running water to rinse his mouth. His hands still smelled of meatloaf and gravy and he washed them under very hot water, trying to let the heat reach his bones. Colin could feel a slick of cold sweat on his back and when he looked in the mirror, the fluorescent lights were unforgiving. He looked washed out and pale, his eyes dull and underscored with dark circles. “Hey.” Colin jumped, his quick indrawn breath turning into a series of coughs. Ryan was standing just inside the bathroom door, but he came forward when Colin started coughing, putting a hand on his back and steadying him. “Snuck up on me,” Colin muttered once he’d cleared a little of the pressure from his chest. “You’re really sick,” Ryan said, and he sounded worried enough to make Colin straighten and blink at him in surprise. “It was the gravy,” Colin explained earnestly. “The smell, I think... and it only got me because I haven’t eaten today. It’s just a little cough, Ryan.” Ryan narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but his hands were warm and solid, one beneath Colin’s elbow and the other on his back, shoring him up. “Why aren’t you eating?” Colin shrugged. “Got up too early, I think. It threw my whole day off, and you know how airplane food is... and then I was really tired when I got in, so I went straight to sleep. By the time I woke up it was time to come here.” “That doesn’t work,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “I’d understand you being hungry because you didn’t have time to eat, but that shouldn’t make you throw up. Plus, I think you have a fever.” “No I don’t,” Colin protested automatically, but he dropped his gaze when Ryan gave him an incredulous look. “Maybe a little one, I guess. It doesn’t help that the studio is freezing today.” “It’s not that cold,” Ryan told him quietly. “Come here.” He pulled Colin close, pressing a palm to his forehead. “That’s not very accurate,” Colin grumbled, but he relaxed into the touch anyway, letting his shoulder rest against Ryan’s chest. “You’re burning up,” Ryan said, sliding his palm down to Colin’s cheek, then brushing his knuckles gently along Colin’s jaw. “And you can barely stay awake.” “I’m tired, yes,” Colin conceded, “but I can finish the taping. I’ve done all right so far, haven’t I?” “And won’t it be funny when you collapse on stage?” Ryan said grimly. “I mean it, Colin. You’re in no shape to do this.” Colin gave an exasperated huff and pulled back, leaning against the counter and folding his arms. “I think I know if I’m okay to keep going or not, and I’m telling you I can handle it. We’re already more than halfway through and if we quit now, it means disappointing everyone and throwing off the taping schedule and racking up production costs in studio time with nothing to show for it.” Ryan opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it shut again when the door opened and Greg poked his head in. “Hellooooo,” he drawled, raising his eyebrows. “Are you two coming back sometime today?” “Yes,” Colin said, at the same time as Ryan said “No.” Greg looked back and forth between them, standing in the doorway and holding it open. “Which is it? And why do I always find you two in bathrooms? I’m beginning to think someone has a weird kink that I don’t really want to hear about.” “Don’t be silly,” Colin said. “Of course you want to hear about it.” Greg grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Well, when you put it that way...” “Colin’s sick,” Ryan said flatly, shooting Colin a hard look. “I think we need to cut the taping short.” Colin sighed and shook his head. “Ryan...” Greg frowned, all traces of teasing gone from his face. “You’re sick? Hell, Colin, why didn’t you say something?” “Because it’s just a little cold,” Colin said, holding a hand up to silence Ryan’s protest. “And a slight fever,” he amended grudgingly. “But I’m fine, I can finish the taping. I promise to get some rest and eat chicken soup after we’re done if that makes you feel better.” “Isn’t it supposed to make you feel better?” Greg asked, but his eyes were still concerned. “Really, are you sure? You do look pretty rough, man.” “I’m sure,” Colin replied, meeting Ryan’s eyes for a long moment before summoning a reassuring smile for Greg. “And I’m ready to go back on stage. Please stop worrying; it’s a weird look for you.” Greg snorted, but seemed to take him at his word, stepping back to let everyone out of the bathroom. “Okay then,” he said, patting Colin on the back as he passed. “Let’s do this thing.” Ryan followed along behind, and Colin could feel his friend’s sullen stare on the back of his head. He paused just before they reached the stage, letting Greg go on ahead. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I feel better, actually.” Which was true; now that he’d thrown up, his stomach had settled, and while the headache was still bad, at least the coughing seemed to have reached a plateau. “I don’t like this,” Ryan murmured, a hand on the small of Colin’s back, keeping him close. “I know.” Colin shrugged, offering a weak smile. “When I planned this trip, I did intend to spend most of it in bed, but not quite this way.” Ryan nodded, one corner of his mouth tugging upward. “You’ll tell me if you start feeling worse?” “If I feel bad enough to stop the taping, I’ll tell you,” Colin replied, which was not exactly what Ryan had asked, but they both knew it was the only concession Colin was willing to make. ~~~ For about half an hour, Colin thought he would be fine. The cough and chills were unpleasant, but livable, and the sense of heavy pressure on his chest making it harder to breathe was a little unnerving, but he could handle it. It wasn’t until a game of Let’s Make a Date that had him running an obstacle course using the other players and the stools as obstacles that he started to get lightheaded. He wasn’t sure if it was lack of food or his inability to take a deep breath that did it, but by the end of the game his head was buzzing and his hands felt half numb. Ryan shot him a sharp look as they returned to their seats, and Colin ducked it, fiddling with his microphone and looking away. It would be fine. There was twenty minutes left to the taping at most, and he wasn’t in every single game. Even now Wayne was out there alone, doing Song Styles, which gave the rest of them a break. Sitting down was helping and he could already feel the sense of floating grayness fading. “Colin,” Ryan said quietly, a low warning tone in his voice. “It’s okay,” Colin said, not looking at him. “We’re almost done.” “If I see you stagger like that again, I’ll cut the taping short myself,” Ryan replied, laying a hand on his arm. Colin blinked, frowning at him. “I didn’t stagger.” Ryan’s jaw tightened, the muscles moving visibly. “You did. I mean it, Colin. I’m not letting you do this to yourself.” “You’ll see,” Colin insisted, dredging up a smile. “I can handle it.” Ryan looked ready to argue more, but it was time for a game of Press Conference and he got up there with the rest of them, keeping a steadying hand in the crook of Colin’s elbow and carrying the little podium into position for him. Colin sighed and let him do it, knowing if he allowed Ryan this small thing, he’d avoid the bigger argument about whether to continue the taping at all. The game went off without a hitch, mostly because Colin could brace his hands against the podium, but that wasn’t obvious to anyone watching and he managed to guess his identity despite his wavering concentration. “See?” Colin murmured once they were back in their seats. “No problem.” “Mmm-hmm,” Ryan said skeptically. “I hope you’re right.” Colin nodded, patting Ryan’s shoulder. “I’m Canadian,” he said. “We’re always right.” Ryan snorted and smiled at him, but the expression slipped away when Drew announced the next game as Action Replay. “Let me take Wayne,” Ryan said immediately, giving Colin a hard look. “You’re not up for his acrobatics right now.” “Okay,” Colin sighed, affecting a put upon expression. He couldn’t keep it for long in the face of Ryan’s steady, patient smile, and he slipped a hand along Ryan’s back as they walked over to stand beside Drew’s desk. “Thanks,” he murmured, just before putting the headphones on. Colin winced a little at the loud music, aggravating his headache, but did his best to block it out and concentrate on remembering Greg’s movements in the game. It looked easy enough at first, Greg standing still in the middle of the stage, looking nervously at Wayne, who was stalking around him in circles with a movement vaguely like a dance. Then Wayne stood back, his arms folded, a stern expression on his face, and Greg hung his head. He dropped to his belly and started doing pushups, ragged and sloppy, but fast. Colin shifted his weight and rubbed his temple with two fingers, sighing. Wayne stood over Greg, shaking one finger as if he was lecturing, and then jumped over him, spreading his hands like a bird. Greg rolled onto his back and hoisted his legs in the air, waving them, his hands braced under his hips to hold them up. Then he kicked out and managed to flip himself to his feet in one motion, although he stumbled a bit on the landing. Colin could see the crowd cheering, even if he couldn’t hear them. Greg put his hands on his hips, grinning proudly, and Wayne dropped to his knees, covering his face with both hands. Greg leaned over and kissed him briefly on the forehead, and Colin smiled a little. Wayne blinked up at him, wide-eyed, and then wrapped his arms around Greg’s legs, pulling hard enough for Greg to land on his ass in a controlled fall. They finished with Greg sitting on the stage, hands braced behind him, and Wayne’s arms still loosely wrapped around his shins. Then they stood and beckoned Ryan and Colin over. Colin took the headphones off, rubbing his ears. It occurred to him as they walked out there that Greg had probably told Wayne to take it easy, assuming that Colin would be following his actions as usual. They’d managed to outsmart themselves by switching and he hadn’t watched Wayne closely enough to switch back now. He stood in the center of the stage, shaking his head slightly when Ryan gave him a questioning look. He had no idea what they were going to make the scene into; Greg and Wayne’s movements had seemed utterly nonsensical to him. “Okay, take it away,” Drew said, waving them on, and Colin took a deep breath. If he could get through this, he could do the rest of the taping easily. Ryan began dancing around him, waving his arms dramatically. “You see?” he asked, his voice sharp and demanding. “You see how it is done? You will never learn ballet if you do not pay attention!” Colin watched with an anxious expression, clutching his hands together as he remembered Greg doing. “Yes, teacher,” he said, pitching his voice high. “I’m trying, I really am.” “You have no discipline! Get down and give me twenty,” Ryan told him, standing aside with his arms folded. Colin dropped down and began doing the pushups, alarmed at how quickly he ran out of breath, his trembling arms threatening to drop him on his belly. Ryan stepped in after only a few pushups, shaking a scolding finger. “No, no, no! You must be light, like the bird.” He jumped awkwardly over Colin, hands outstretched. “You see? Dainty, like me.” Colin couldn’t help laughing along with the crowd, although he was cut short by another series of coughs in rapid succession. His body flatly refused to do another pushup and he rested on his chest, closing his eyes for a brief moment, the carpet scratchy and cool on his face. “You must defy gravity,” Ryan said, nudging his side gently with one foot to encourage him to roll over. “Your feet should be so light they float in the air.” Colin flopped onto his back and managed to get his legs up, waving them a little, his hands propping his hips up as Greg had done. He was aware of his breathing rasping in his throat and his ears and fingers felt strangely cold, almost numb. Ryan was a blurry form standing over him and Colin squeezed his eyes shut for a second, trying to clear his vision. His feet were heavy blocks on the ends of his legs, and Colin thought it was probably bad that he couldn’t feel his toes. “Now spring!” Ryan called, lifting his arms in the air. “You are a frog! Leap like the frog.” Colin drew his legs in close, his knees nearly touching his chest, and then kicked out as hard as he could, throwing himself upright. For a moment it was perfect, his feet landing squarely and his body following like a magic trick, everything in order. Then the blurriness swarmed in so fast he had to close his eyes and his knees buckled, sending him stumbling for a step before he dropped gracelessly to the floor. He could hear the uncertain laughter of the crowd, trailing off to worried murmurs when he didn’t get up right away, and Ryan was speaking to him, one hand on his face, patting him gently, but those things were secondary. He’d landed hard, flat on his back, and had the wind knocked out of him. He couldn’t seem to get it back, his chest aching with each shallow breath, his head spinning. Hands lifted his shoulders, helping him to sit up, and that eased his breathing considerably. Colin coughed hard, trying to clear the relentless weight from his chest, and gasped for air, calming as he finally started getting enough. Ryan’s arms were right there, bracing him, and he leaned into Ryan’s chest gratefully, unable to keep his eyes open. He felt wrung out and feather light, as if he might float away again at any moment, and he was distantly aware of his whole body shaking. The dizziness faded but didn’t go away entirely, and he lifted his head, taking a cautious look around. He was sitting on the stage, hunched over with his legs sprawled out messily and Ryan was crouched at his side, holding him up. Wayne and Greg stood over him, leaning close and asking if he was okay, and Drew was approaching as well, saying something to the crowd about holding on a few minutes and he’d let them know. “Colin?” Ryan asked softly, his voice tight and worried. “It’s okay,” Colin said. “It’s getting better.” “Shit, Col, you’re white as a sheet,” Greg said, kneeling awkwardly at Colin’s feet. “I thought you’d be copying Wayne. I wouldn’t have done all that if...” “I know,” Colin said, waving a hand reassuringly. “Not your fault.” “What’s going on?” Drew asked, crouching at his other side, across from Ryan. “Colin, are you all right?” “No,” Ryan said sharply, before Colin could reply. “He’s sick, he’s been sick all day and I think he just passed out for a few seconds.” Drew patted his shoulder, studying his face, his eyes wide and concerned behind his thick glasses. “You look like hell,” he said seriously. “How do you get sick enough to pass out and not tell anyone?” “Good question,” Ryan growled, and Colin sighed, closing his eyes again. He still thought he would have been fine if not for that game of Action Replay, but arguing right now would be pointless and would also take way more energy than he had. His chest and head ached and he couldn’t stop shivering, his body soaking up the warmth that Ryan offered and demanding more. “His breathing sounds really bad,” Wayne said somewhere over his head, and he felt Ryan’s hand on his chest, measuring each breath. “Feels bad too,” Ryan observed, shaking his head. “All thick and wheezy.” “Okay, that’s it,” Drew said, and Colin heard rustling to his side as Drew got to his feet. He still hadn’t opened his eyes. If he did, he’d have to face all his friends staring at him with various shades of worry on their faces, not to mention the murmuring crowd that he’d just fallen on his ass in front of. It was so much easier to rest his cheek on Ryan’s shoulder and focus on getting enough air to keep the dizziness at bay. “Sorry folks, but it looks like we’re going to have to stop the taping early,” Drew announced, and the upset murmur from the crowd immediately gained volume. They quieted after a few moments, though, and Colin could picture Drew waving his hands. “Colin is trying to be stubborn, but he’s too sick to keep going. Don’t worry, he’ll be okay once he recovers from me kicking his ass for not telling us.” There was scattered laughter from the crowd, and even more when Ryan jumped in with a gruff, “Get in line!” Colin was aware of the bright overhead stage lights going off, leaving the set dim but far more comfortable, and he reluctantly opened his eyes. The crowd was beginning to shuffle away, but many were lingering, watching the little huddle of performers on the stage with undisguised curiosity. “We should move,” Colin suggested, although he wasn’t sure he could actually get up. “You should go to a hospital,” Wayne countered, one hand on Colin’s wrist, feeling his pulse. “My brother is a nurse and I helped him do a lot of his studying, so I know a little about this stuff. I think you’ve got pneumonia.” Colin shook his head, his eyes slipping shut until he forced them open again. “It’s just a chest cold. Maybe the flu.” “What are your symptoms?” Wayne asked, and then held a hand up, ticking points off on his fingers. “Coughing, chest pain, difficulty breathing, high fever, rapid onset--you probably felt fine yesterday, right?” Colin nodded and coughed again, then winced; his throat was starting to get sore. “Okay, yeah, but my fever isn’t that high.” “Colin, please,” Ryan retorted, shaking his head. “You’re like an oven. I can feel it through my shirt.” “But...” Colin swallowed, shifting uneasily. He knew people could die from pneumonia, and the thought sent something cold skittering through his belly. “You really think that’s it?” Wayne nodded, exchanging a worried glance with the others. “I’m pretty sure. You’re at higher risk to get it because of the smoking, and you’re showing all the signs. Well, except nausea, but that doesn’t always happen.” Colin shrugged and lowered his eyes, biting his bottom lip. He was surprised and grateful when Ryan didn’t rat him out, but instead slipped an arm around Colin’s waist and squeezed gently. “I’ll take you to the hospital,” Ryan said. “Do you think you can make it to my car?” “Sure,” Colin said, although he wasn’t. Getting up would be the hard part, he decided. If he could do that, he could lean on Ryan all the way to the parking lot. It was more than a little scary how he’d gotten so drained, so quickly. He’d been tired and shaky before, yes, but perfectly capable of walking on his own, and now he was questioning his ability to stand. As it turned out, standing was quite easy, mostly because the other guys took nearly all his weight and held him upright until he found his feet. He wobbled a little, his vision going gray and blurry for a moment, but Ryan caught him and his head cleared after a few strained breaths. “Okay,” he said, one hand wrapped tightly around Ryan’s arm, keeping him close. “I’m okay.” They moved off the stage as a group, Ryan’s arm looped around his waist and Greg at his other side, hovering. Dan met them in the hallway and reached out to gingerly pat Colin on the shoulder, offering a tight smile. “Let me know what the doctor says,” he said. “If you need some time off, I’ll rearrange the schedule, make it work. Okay?” “Yeah,” Colin replied, nodding. “But I’m sure it’ll be fine.” “Of course you are,” Ryan muttered, and steered him on down the hall, leaving Dan behind. It was early evening outside, the waning daylight muted enough to be comfortable and the heat a welcome change from the chilly studio. Colin felt his taut muscles relaxing a little with the warmth, and he rested his head on Ryan’s shoulder, closing his eyes and walking blindly. There was a flurry of loose hugs and pats on his back next to the car, making Colin feel as if he was old, frail, and breakable, and then Ryan helped him into the passenger seat, leaving Colin to recline and soak up the baking heat of the car’s interior. He could hear Ryan talking to the guys, assuring them he’d call as soon as there was anything to tell, and then Ryan got in beside him and the engine rumbled to life. “You doing okay?” Ryan asked, his cool fingertips brushing Colin’s cheek for a moment. “Mmm,” Colin said, nodding sleepily. “Getting there.” Ryan said something else as the car started moving, but Colin didn’t register it. He was asleep before they cleared the studio gates. ~~~ The hospital was a rude shock of cold air and bright lights after the warmth and quiet of the car. Colin wrapped his arms around his middle and started shivering again, leaning into Ryan as they walked into the emergency room. He already felt silly being there; the short nap in the car had revived him a bit, and he was half sure the doctor would take one look at him and tell him to go home and take some Nyquil. Ryan deposited him in a chair and told him to stay put, and Colin sighed, slumping into the hard plastic and allowing himself to feel just a little grumpy. He could have just gone home with Ryan and relaxed in his big Jacuzzi, then had a nice soft bed to sleep in until he felt better. Instead he was here in the crowded, noisy emergency room, his head aching and his light jacket wholly unequal to the task of keeping him warm. Ryan really was overprotective sometimes, and Colin had learned to accept it with grace; he was even a little fond of those moments when Ryan would compulsively check on him, always wanting to touch to be sure. Then there were times like this, when he’d just as soon skip the whole hospital thing and couldn’t because Ryan would never stand for it. “Okay,” Ryan said, sinking into the chair beside him. “I got you checked in. They should call us pretty soon.” Colin nodded, eying the forms in Ryan’s hands with dull disinterest. He was glad when Ryan didn’t even try to hand them over, but instead set about filling them out himself. Colin closed his eyes and drifted, aware of the scratch of the pen and the rattle of paper to his side, Ryan muttering to himself every now and then as he worked, and the warm press of Ryan’s knee against his, keeping him grounded. It seemed like no time at all before Ryan’s arm was around him again, helping him up, and Colin opened his eyes to find a nurse standing in front of him, waiting. “Oh,” he mumbled, looking around. “Our turn?” The nurse smiled faintly and nodded, then turned and headed down the hall. They followed, Colin once again pressing into Ryan’s side, trying to find some warmth. He had to clench his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering and he swallowed a brief wave of self-pity, shaking his head. Yes, it sucked being sick, but it happened to everyone, and at least he had someone who would take care of him. He perched on the end of a paper covered bed in a small exam room and swung his legs, frowning when Ryan pulled away to sit in a nearby chair. The nurse pulled a digital thermometer from its housing and put a new sterile cover on the tip before pressing it gently into Colin’s ear. “How are you feeling?” she asked while the thermometer beeped away to itself. “I’ve been better,” Colin admitted, shrugging. “It’s a little hard to catch my breath.” She nodded and read the thermometer, her mouth tightening slightly. “Do you feel cold?” “Yeah, it’s freezing in here,” Colin said, trying to keep the whine out of his voice. “You have a temperature of a hundred and four point seven,” the nurse said, and Colin felt Ryan’s hand land on his leg, squeezing for a moment. He looked at Ryan, feeling oddly guilty, and the tense lines around his friend’s eyes didn’t help any. “Oh,” Colin said. “I... really?” The nurse nodded and pulled out a stethoscope, listening to his chest for a few breaths, then took a quick blood pressure reading. “Are you having any chest pain? Coughing?” “Yes, both of those. And I was sick earlier,” Colin volunteered, knowing Ryan would say it if he didn’t. “Okay.” The nurse readied a needle and syringe, laying out sterile gauze, a thin rubber tourniquet, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “I’m going to take a blood sample to be sure, and we’ll want to do a chest x-ray as well, but you most likely have pneumonia. I’ll let the doctor know, and he’ll be in to see you soon.” Colin sat still while his blood was drawn, looking away and grimacing. The nurse was quick and efficient, the procedure mostly painless, but he’d never been very comfortable with needles. When the nurse walked away with her neatly labeled vial of blood, Ryan took his hand, and Colin squeezed it, looking down. “Sorry,” Colin murmured. “Why?” Colin shrugged and turned Ryan’s hand over in his, spreading it open and tracing the lines on his palm. “I guess I didn’t listen very well.” “You usually don’t,” Ryan said, but his voice was fond, indulgent. He paused for a moment, then leaned in closer, resting his head against Colin’s side. “You’ll be all right. I’m sure they can fix you up.” “Yeah,” Colin agreed, wondering which one of them Ryan was trying to reassure. They sat quietly for a while, Colin wishing he could lie down, but not quite willing to chance that choking sensation again. It was much easier to breathe when he was upright. Ryan pulled back when the doctor walked in, a short, stocky man with smiling eyes and a wrinkled white coat. “Hello,” he said. “I’m Dr. Warren.” He shook both their hands briskly and didn’t bat an eye when Ryan took Colin’s hand again. The doctor scanned the clipboard in his hands and nodded once to himself. “Mr. Mochrie, I’m going to start an IV for you so we can get you hydrated. Once the blood test comes back, we’ll probably want to give you antibiotics, and we’ll use the IV line for that as well, okay?” Colin nodded and looked away again, gritting his teeth as the doctor expertly threaded an IV line to his forearm, taping the plastic tubing down when he finished. He was starting to feel dizzy again, and the rush of cold from the chilled saline running into his arm didn’t help. He swayed slightly, biting his lip to clear his head a little, and Ryan’s arm was immediately around his back, holding him steady. “How are you doing?” Dr. Warren asked, watching him carefully. “You feel like you might pass out?” Colin shook his head. “It’s okay. Could I have a blanket or something?” The doctor hesitated, tilting his head to one side. “I know you feel cold and I’m sorry, but we actually need to bring your temperature down, not help you retain heat. That’s why the IV solution is so cold. I’ll give you a fever reducer, which should help you feel a little better, and once we’ve confirmed pneumonia and you get the antibiotics, they should help a great deal. Just bear with me for a little longer, okay?” “Okay,” Colin sighed. He watched the doctor withdraw a measure of clear fluid from a little bottle and inject it into his IV line, then closed his eyes again, hoping he could fall back asleep and wake up when the medicine was working. Ryan’s hand was on his back, stroking slowly up and down and he was so very tired, but he couldn’t get comfortable. He was cold and his chest ached and he wanted to curl up under a pile of blankets, not sit here in this bright and sterile room and wait. “Here,” Ryan said, guiding him backwards on the bed until his legs were stretched out in front of him. Then Ryan pushed a button on the side and the head of the bed lifted until Colin could lean back against it and still breathe. He sighed in relief, wriggling against the stiff mattress and trying to burrow into it. “Thanks,” Colin murmured, holding a hand out. Ryan took it and rubbed it between his own, warming his fingers. He was close to drifting off when the doctor spoke up again, and Colin wondered vaguely if he’d been there the whole time or had left and returned. “Radiology is ready for you now,” he said, a hand on Colin’s shoulder to help him sit up. “We’ll get that chest x-ray done, and by the time you come back here we should have the blood results.” Colin nodded and slid to the end of the bed, but paused when he saw a wheelchair waiting for him. “Do I have to use that?” “Hospital policy,” the doctor said firmly. “Great,” Colin muttered, but he settled into the chair willingly enough, glad that at least he hadn’t been subjected to the indignities of the paper gown that wouldn’t close in back. Ryan grabbed his IV pole with one hand and pushed his chair with the other, and Colin watched the walls move past until he started feeling queasy again and had to close his eyes. When he opened them again, Ryan was pulling him from the chair and there was another woman in a white coat there, telling him to sit on a metal table. Colin was beginning to feel detached and dreamlike and complied silently, watching Ryan and the woman move around him, arranging equipment. Ryan had to put on a thick lead apron and then he was told to stay still and take a deep breath, which was easier said than done. More instructions and then the woman was actually moving him and he wanted to make a joke about playing Moving People but by the time he thought of it she was gone again. Either he’d slowed down considerably or everyone else was moving very fast. He was back in the chair and halfway down the hall before he registered that the x-ray was done, and he looked up at Ryan, blinking slowly. “What did that doctor give me?” Ryan smiled down at him, chuckling. “I was wondering when you were going to come back down. He must’ve used the strong stuff.” “Hmm.” Colin wasn’t sure if it was medication or exhaustion, but the haze was pleasant and certainly an improvement over the now distant aches and chills. He felt punch drunk and complacent, happy to let Ryan steer for a while. Soon he was back in the exam room, reclined in the bed while Ryan sat beside him, one hand lightly resting on his chest. There was quiet for a time and they waited, Colin finally starting to feel less cold, his tense muscles relaxing one at a time. He was aware of Ryan shifting impatiently, his foot tapping and his fingers plucking at Colin’s jacket, rubbing the material absently. “All right,” the doctor said, sweeping back into the room. “I’ve looked at the x-rays and there is definitely fluid in your lungs, Mr. Mochrie. That, coupled with a very high white blood cell count, is a strong indicator of bacterial pneumonia.” He nodded and checked Colin’s IV, tapping the nearly empty bag. “So now what?” Ryan asked. “This is actually good news,” Dr. Warren replied. “Viral pneumonia is harder to treat and can last for weeks, but bacterial responds well to antibiotics and you should be feeling fine again in just a few days.” “That’s good,” Colin murmured sleepily, waving one hand. It was impossibly heavy and he let it flop to his side after a few seconds. “I see the medication is working,” the doctor said, smiling. “Its primary function is as a pain reliever and fever reducer, but it often has slightly tranquilizing side effects, as you may have noticed.” “No kidding,” Ryan said dryly. Colin patted his hand and closed his eyes again, aware of movement and the clink of glass around him. He heard Ryan ask, “What’s that?” “It’s the first dose of antibiotics. We’ll give him a second dose in half an hour, and then check his breathing and temperature again. Depending on how well he responds, we’ll decide whether to keep him overnight or send him home.” Colin felt a faint tugging as his IV line was moved, and then more rustling, but after that it was quiet enough to hear Ryan’s steady breathing. He scooted a little closer and Ryan obliged, leaning against the bed so Colin’s head could rest on his shoulder. “You feeling better?” Ryan asked softly. Colin nodded and cracked his eyes open for a moment before letting them drift shut again. “Good thing you brought me here.” “Yeah, well... don’t do this again, okay? That thing where you collapse on stage is not actually funny when you’re not faking.” “Sorry,” Colin said, and Ryan said something else but his voice was only a buzz of sound, indistinct and fading. Colin slept for what felt like seconds and then Ryan’s hands were on him again, encouraging him to sit up. “Whuh?” Colin mumbled, looking around. Ryan chuckled and patted his back. “Welcome back to the land of the living.” “You’re responding well,” the doctor told him, watching as Colin got to his feet and stood there, swaying a little. “You still have a fever but it’s a much more manageable hundred and one and your breathing already sounds better. I’m sending oral antibiotics home with you and I want you to finish the whole bottle, three a day, with meals. Take it easy for a couple days and get plenty of fluids, and you should bounce back just fine.” Colin nodded and yawned, finishing with a series of coughs that hurt his chest, but not as much as they had before. “Okay,” he said, a little embarrassed by his thin, hoarse voice. “Thanks,” Ryan said, walking Colin out. The doctor gave a little wave, already busy reading a chart for his next patient. “Time for bed?” Colin asked hopefully as they left the hospital. “Time for sleep,” Ryan corrected, smiling at him. “Oh well. Worth a shot.” Colin yawned again while he climbed into the car, glad of the day’s warmth still lingering inside. He curled up in his seat and watched Ryan’s profile as his friend drove, noting the tight jaw and tired eyes. “Hey, I don’t know if I said this before, but thanks.” Ryan glanced over at him, raising his eyebrows. “For what?” “For... taking care of me, I guess.” “Somebody had to,” Ryan replied pointedly. “Since you kinda suck at it, you know.” “Guess it’s a good thing you’re here, then.” Colin slipped his hand into Ryan’s, lacing their fingers together. Ryan didn’t take his eyes off the road, but he smiled and squeezed Colin’s hand. “Yeah,” he said. “Guess so.” ~~~ Colin remembered waking briefly to get from the car to the house, but he mostly kept his eyes closed and let Ryan steer. He fell asleep again lying in bed while Ryan took off his shoes and grumbled about how he better get some kind of compensation for all this personal servitude later. When he woke again, the house was dark and Ryan was warm and heavy beside him, one arm wrapped around his waist. Colin sat up and coughed several times, but he didn’t feel like he had to gasp for air between every one, which was definitely an improvement. He got up and stumbled to the bathroom in the dark, still half-asleep, then made his way back to bed. Ryan’s hand fumbled around for him once he lay down, and Ryan made a vaguely complaining sound in his throat until he could get an arm back around Colin. The next time he opened his eyes it was morning and Ryan was awake, lying on his side with one hand on Colin’s chest, watching him. Colin blinked sleepily and covered Ryan’s hand with his own. “Hi,” he said, smiling. Ryan looked at him for a long moment, then leaned forward, bumping their foreheads together lightly and brushing a kiss over Colin’s lips. “How’re you feeling?” “Better,” Colin replied. “But you should watch out or you’ll get sick too.” “I’m not sure if pneumonia is contagious, but if it is, I think that ship has sailed,” Ryan said, smiling wryly. “If I do start getting sick, I’ll just take the antibiotics early and it won’t get so bad.” “Ah. Good plan.” Colin offered a sheepish shrug, looking up at Ryan through his eyelashes. “Yeah, try and remember that one. Pretending you’re fine isn’t all that effective when you fall apart on stage.” Colin shifted uncomfortably, nodding. “That’ll be all over the internet, won’t it?” “Oh, definitely,” Ryan agreed, “but if I were you, I’d worry more about scaring the crap out of your friends than what the fans might think.” Colin frowned, surprised at the tension in Ryan’s voice. “Come on... I still think it would have been okay if I didn’t have to do Action Replay.” Ryan pulled away, sitting on the side of the bed and staring at the wall. The line of his back was stiff, his shoulders tight, and Colin sighed. This was the routine. When Ryan was upset about something, he didn’t want to come out and say it. He wanted to be talked around, chased after until he gave it up. As if he needed an excuse to talk, and couldn’t admit that he just wanted to. Colin swung his legs over and sat beside Ryan, resting their shoulders together. He looked down at his hands, fiddling absently with his ring. “You think I couldn’t have finished the taping?” Ryan gave an exasperated huff and shook his head. “I think the taping doesn’t matter! They can always reschedule, or... or figure something out. It’s not the end of the world if you have to skip a few days.” “But I really didn’t feel that bad.” Ryan gave him an incredulous look, and Colin lowered his gaze. “Well, not at first,” he amended. “You told me you’d be fine,” Ryan said, “and I believed you.” He was on his feet and out of the room before Colin could think of a thing to say. Colin blinked at the empty doorway Ryan had swept through, and eventually remembered to close his mouth. He stood slowly, still a little shaky on his feet although that was probably due more to lack of food than his lingering illness. Ryan had apparently stripped him to his tee shirt and underwear the night before, and Colin took his time getting dressed. He knew from long experience it was often better to let Ryan cool down before approaching him. He poked his head into the hall and looked both ways, wondering which direction Ryan would have gone. Not quite sure if he wanted to go the same way, or the opposite. His empty stomach made the choice for him and he headed to the kitchen. Colin had a simple breakfast of toast and peanut butter, which was about all he felt able to handle at the moment. He put his dishes in the sink, and when he turned around Ryan was standing against the wall, arms folded. Colin made a concerted effort not to jump. “Hey,” Colin said, smiling tentatively. Ryan opened his mouth, taking a breath, then sighed and shut it again. “Here,” he said after a moment. “You’re supposed to take these.” He held out the bottle of antibiotics. Colin took one obediently, washing it down with the last of his orange juice. “So...” he said when Ryan seemed content to stand there and watch him silently. “I... okay, this is kind of stupid,” Ryan said, looking away. “I mean, I know you didn’t ask to get sick. I know that’s not your fault.” “But I shouldn’t have tried to hide it from you,” Colin finished for him. “I am sorry about that, you know. I didn’t mean to worry you.” “It’s a good thing you did,” Ryan replied, his eyes narrowing. “It’s a good thing I was there to worry, because if you’d had your way, I bet you would have gone back to your hotel and tried to sleep it off.” “Well... I was thinking more along the lines of coming here.” Colin tried for an endearing smile, but Ryan didn’t return it. “They had to give you oxygen, you know. While you were sleeping they checked your blood oxygen and it was too low. They put the mask over your face and you didn’t even wake up and you looked...” Ryan shook his head, biting his lip. He wouldn’t meet Colin’s eyes. “Ryan...” Colin crossed the room, standing in front of Ryan and putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. But I’m really okay now, so it worked out fine, didn’t it?” “But it wouldn’t have,” Ryan insisted, bringing both hands up to grip Colin’s upper arms. “Don’t you get that? You could have passed out in the hotel and suffocated. You could have gotten actual brain damage from that fever if it went much higher. The doctor told me about all these possible complications if pneumonia is left untreated, stuff like lung infections and this thing called pleural effusion that I didn’t completely follow but it sounds bad, you know?” Colin stepped closer and slid his arms around Ryan’s back, trying to calm him. “But none of those things happened.” Ryan actually shook him a little, his grasp on Colin’s arms tight, relentless. “You’re still not listening. You can’t take risks like that, like a TV show is more important than your life. You can’t because if you...” He trailed off, closing his eyes for a long moment. Colin was startled when Ryan’s arms suddenly wrapped around him, pulling him close. “Hey,” Colin said softly, tilting his head to murmur in Ryan’s ear. “What’s this all about?” Ryan took a deep breath and pulled back far enough to rest his forehead against Colin’s. “Let’s say there’s a list,” he said. “A very short list of people that I really, really couldn’t handle losing. And you’re at the top of that list. Okay?” Colin almost laughed, because the idea was ridiculous. Ryan, lose him? Impossible. It didn’t even bear thinking about. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, squeezing his arms around Ryan’s waist. “You could. You’re not invincible and I don’t think you know that.” “If I was invincible, I think I’d have hair,” Colin joked, but when Ryan didn’t even smile, he dropped the playful tone. “Okay, I have to be more careful. Is that what you want?” “It’s a good start,” Ryan agreed. He brought a hand to Colin’s face, stroking a thumb along his cheek. “A lot of people love you, you know.” “I know,” Colin said. “I have a list, too.” Ryan snorted and rolled his eyes, but he was finally smiling and that was all Colin had wanted. “It must be hard to keep track of so many,” he said. Colin shrugged. “Not really. I know who comes first, and the rest is easy.” Ryan tried and failed to hide a wide, pleased grin. “Don’t get all Hallmark on me now,” he muttered. “What, you thought I meant you?” Ryan laughed and hugged him impulsively, giving him a kiss that started light and playful and deepened until Colin had to pull away to catch his breath. “You all right?” Ryan asked, putting a hand on his chest. “I’m fine, but there’s something that would definitely make me feel even better.” “Oh?” Ryan’s eyes were dancing, his lips curved in a speculative smile. “You know you’re supposed to be taking it easy.” “I know.” Colin grinned and took Ryan’s hand, leading him toward the stairs. “It’s just that I’ve had one thing on my mind since I got to L.A. and I’m tired of waiting.” “I can understand that; after all, I’m very hard to wait for.” Ryan smirked, wiggling his eyebrows theatrically. Colin gave him a look of perfect confusion. “You? Oh, no, I was talking about your Jacuzzi, but if you must, I suppose you can join me.” Ryan sputtered and hurried up the stairs after him, catching him in the hall for another kiss. By the time they made it to the master bathroom, Colin was breathless again, laughing as Ryan ran the water and the room filled with steam. Ryan insisted on undressing him and Colin sighed and allowed it. He supposed he should get used to it, because Ryan was probably coddle him for days before he forgot about his little scare. It promised to be a very pleasant week. Colin sank into the hot water and rested against Ryan’s chest, feeling the familiar arms wrap around him as the heat and moisture eased the last aches and allowed him to take his first deep breath in what seemed like days. “Hey, Ryan,” Colin began. “I love... your Jacuzzi.” “Yeah,” Ryan replied, his voice a low murmur in Colin’s ear, fond and amused. “I love you too.” And Colin laughed, finally where he wanted to be. ~~~ Fin January 21 – 23, 2006