TITLE: Beginnings and Endings AUTHOR: makingamochrie PAIRING: Colin/Greg RATING: PG No sex at all. DISCLAIMER: FICTION! Dont' own. Don't sue. SUMMARY: At a pre-All-Stars party, Ryan wonders why Colin isn't exactly receiving him with open arms. CAUTION: This is an eight pager, so since it's too long for LJ, the rest will be posted in the continued part. It wasn’t your typical stripper bar. There was no stage, no poles, no blaring music. The lighting was muted, the interior, sedate. Well-dressed patrons of both genders sat in plush armchairs, or stood in tight knots murmuring in genteel tones to one another while drinking expensive liquor from crystal glasses. Among and around these knots of well-heeled humanity wove exquisitely beautiful, completely naked specimens of absolute physical perfection. These men and women wore their nakedness like badges of honor and were as comfortable within their own skins as their patrons were in their pricey suits and designer gowns. Clad in an expensive tuxedo that outlined and enhanced his long form to perfection, Ryan sat at the end of one of the long, mahogany bars, cradling a glass of top-of-the-line scotch in one large hand. He wasn’t drunk, not even near it, but his normally vibrant eyes were as red-rimmed and melancholy as any veteran drinker on a bender. His subtle air of ‘do not touch me’ gave even the most experienced stripper pause. As a result, he was seldom approached, though when he was, his turn-downs were invariably polite and soft-voiced. Every so often, his gaze would drift from the glass in his hand to the area just beyond the bar, where one of the tight knots of humanity stood. Unlike most of the others, this group was comprised entirely of men, and if they were a little more boisterous than the people surrounding them, they could perhaps be forgiven. They were entertainers, after all. Comedians to a man. Improvisational comedians, to be exact. Chip and Jeff were dressed a bit more trendily than the others, but that was to be expected given their relative youth. Greg was clad a tad more traditionally, though the royal blue vest and tie, which matched the frames of his glasses, lent an air of suave insouciance to his person. Brad looked uncomfortable, but quite fetching, in his conventional tuxedo. And though Ryan eyed them all with fondness, his gaze was really reserved for just one person: Colin, tall and slim in his exquisitely tailored tux, the fringe of his hair snow white and clipped close to his head, his smile warm and everpresent and sparkling in the deep chocolate mocha of his eyes. Colin was in the center of the group, far removed from the days when his innate shyness would have had him parked, silent, on the very fringes, if even there at all. He was a part of every conversation, generous with his laughter, and gleefully participating with the others as they unmercifully teased Jeff by purchasing lap dance after lap dance—men and women both—for their profusely blushing friend. Ryan wasn’t quite sure what it was that Jeff had done to rate such treatment, but he wasn’t really in the mood to ask, either, so he merely watched it, and in particular, Colin’s reaction to it. Ryan also took note of Brad, or rather Brad’s interaction with Colin. It was a side of Brad that Ryan had never seen before; eagerly fetching Colin drinks, lighting his cigarettes even though he, himself, didn’t smoke, eyeing his every movement, every gesture very much as a lover would. Touching him at every opportunity, warranted or not. Ryan felt the corners of his mouth turn down in a deep frown, and he quickly put the glass of scotch to his lips to hide it. The scotch was warm and mellow but did nothing to wash the bitter taste of jealousy from his tongue. He had no right to be jealous, and he knew it, but that didn’t stop the feelings. Though never much prone to introspection, he found himself pondering why he felt as he did. They hadn’t seen one another in over a year, but that was par for the course for them, even when they were sharing a stage together on a regular basis. They each had wives and families and projects of their own which kept them away from one another for months at a time. Living on the opposite sides of two different countries didn’t help, either, but that had never seemed to matter before. They had been friends since their teenage years, thrown together by a mutual love of improvisational comedy, bound together by an ineffable chemistry that seemed to stem from a deep-seeded understanding of one another. Simple friendship had morphed quite quickly into adoration, and then into genuine love. Physical expression of that love had taken longer to develop, though both had acknowledged a mutual attraction early on. When that final line had been irrevocably crossed, both went into it eagerly, with eyes wide open, and with nary a regret. Their affair had lasted for over twenty years, through distance and separation, through wives and children, through tumult and strife. Ryan would have been lying to himself if he had said that he hadn’t been looking forward to this night—a formally informal get together to kick off an All-Stars charity weekend—with all the anticipation of a new groom to his marriage bed. No matter how long they were apart, Colin and Ryan had always come together with all the passion of teenagers deep in the first blush of lust, and Ryan hadn’t expected this time to be any different. But he knew now, barely two hours into it, that it was. Colin had arrived a bit later than the rest, and his greeting was affectionate enough; a long, firm and loving hug, a fond kiss on the cheek, and a bright, genuine smile that shone in his eyes. And if there was a certain…spark…that was missing, Ryan chalked it up simply to the length of time they’d been apart. They had talked, one on one, arms and hands occasionally brushing as they reached for drinks, for ten minutes or more, catching up on one another’s lives and latest projects. Colin had seemed lively and in good spirits, as charming and adorable as always. Ryan felt himself responding to that as strongly as he always did. It took every bit of his willpower not to simply drag the man off to his hotel room for some quality time naked and in bed. They hadn’t spoken of anything of deeply personal significance, and Ryan was kicking himself for that now, as when their mutual friends had spied Colin from across the bar, they swamped him with greetings and had dragged him away with them. He hadn’t looked back since. Not even once. A hand came down on his shoulder, causing Ryan to nearly drop the dregs of his drink into his lap. Jerking his head to the side, he caught Drew looking at him in that half-squint he always seemed to sport when not wearing his glasses. “Why you all the way over here, man?” Drew asked. “The party’s over there!” Shrugging, Ryan tossed back the last of his drink and signaled the bartender for another. “Not much in the partying mood, I guess,” he said softly. “Never thought I’d live to hear you say that.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “You’ve heard it plenty of times, Drew.” “Maybe,” Drew allowed, shifting slightly on his feet, “but not when you haven’t seen most of the guys in months. What’s up?” “Does something have to be up?” Ryan evaded. “It is when you’re deliberately skipping out on a first class opportunity to embarrass the shit out of one of the guys over there. Normally, you’d be the first in line, man, waving your hundreds like they were made out of paper.” “They are.” Shaking his head, Drew hooked a barstool with his foot and pulled it over. “I’m not blind, buddy,” he said, sitting down and making himself, at least temporarily, comfortable. “What’s going on in that head of yours? You’ve been out of it most of the night.” Ryan shrugged again. “Just not into the stripper scene, I guess.” “Then why are you here?” Drew asked quietly. “I mean, if it’s not for the ambience, and it’s not to hang out with the guys….” He waved his hand as the bartender set Ryan’s drink down. “You can get that shit anywhere, so it’s not for the booze, either.” Ryan’s gaze went involuntarily across the bar. Drew followed it, and his expression cleared. “Ah. I see now.” “Yeah?” Ryan asked, taking a sip of scotch and turning to Drew. “What is it you see, exactly?” “You’re pissed because Colin’s over with the rest of them and not over here with you.” “Do I look pissed to you?” Drew studied him closely, and his expression clouded with uncertainty again. “No. Not really. You do look kinda sad, though. Did something happen?” Ryan looked down, unconsciously fiddling with his wedding band—a nervous habit he’d picked up from Colin. Or perhaps it was the other way around. He wasn’t quite sure anymore. “No,” he said finally, so softly that Drew had to strain to hear it. “Nothing happened.” “You’re making that sound like a bad thing, man. Did you want something to happen and it didn’t?” “Listen, Drew. Can we just drop it?” “Nope,” Drew replied, unrepentant. “Not when one of my best friends is sitting here by himself looking like his dog just died.” Ryan drained half of his fresh scotch in one gulp. “Maybe I should just go.” “No. No way, man. You’re not leaving, and you’re not moping around here, either.” Reaching down, he grabbed Ryan by the crook of his elbow, ignoring the blistering stare he was receiving. “You can wallow in whatever shit you’re wallowing in on your own time, Stiles. You’re with me now. I set this gig up so that we could all get back online with one another for a damn good show tomorrow. And you’re not leaving until I see some of that old spark back in your eyes.” Ryan shook his arm away. “I didn’t realize my contract extended to my own fucking personal time, too,” he growled. “Can it,” Drew growled right back. “You’re here for a reason, and the reason’s over there, so let’s move it.” Heaving a gusty sigh, Ryan knocked back the last of his drink and stood. “Fine. But if you want lap dances, you fucking pay for them yourself.” “Hell,” Drew replied, chuckling, “I’ll even pay for yours! Dude or chick?” “Let’s just get this over with.” ******* Jeff was looking excessively flushed and sweaty by the time his latest ‘present’, a male and female stripper, had finished with him. With a trembling hand held up in a silent plea, he rushed for the bathroom, the front of his trousers extremely tented. The others broke into gales of laughter, giving out high-fives and back slaps with abandon and acting as if they’d never been apart. Drew’s plan seemed to be working to perfection. They were as tightly knit as Ryan had ever seen them, and he felt a thread of intense jealousy run through him. Hell, Colin was even wiping tears from his eyes. “Ryan!” Chip greeted effusively, hugging the taller man with one rough arm. “About time you joined the rest of the insane asylum over here!” “Yeah,” Greg added, trademark smirk firmly in place, “I was wondering if we were gonna need a fucking crowbar to pry your ass from that stool.” His grinning eyes took the sting from his words. “I was fine where I was,” Ryan replied. “I’m glad you’re here,” Colin said, patting his arm. “You can help me keep them from pushing me onto the seat of death.” He gestured to the stool that Jeff had recently evacuated. Drawing himself to his full height, Ryan mock-glared down at the rest of the men, who laughed and backed away. “You can take his place then,” Drew said, cackling in evil glee. Ryan shook his head. “You’re the stripper whore. You do it.” “Nah. This place is like my second fucking home.” Drew looked around, and he grinned again. “Your turn, Brad.” Brad put up a struggle, but it wasn’t much of one, and he was easily maneuvered onto the stool. Drew pulled out a fat wad of hundreds, and the game was on once again. ******* Several hours later, all of them were ready to call it a night, and Ryan was more confused than ever. Though he’d been accepted into the group gladly and gratefully, there was something ‘off’ with Colin that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was strange, because the man seemed to be having more genuine fun than he’d seen from him in years. His mood never once wavered from its jovial, good-natured happiness, and Ryan could tell it was completely genuine. He was having the time of his life. The problem was, he wasn’t having it with Ryan. Not that Colin was ignoring him or anything. Quite the opposite, in fact. For most of the night, they stood pressed close against one another, trading quips and observations about the myriad of beautiful flesh that was paraded before them for their viewing enjoyment. Neither had taken the so-called ‘seat of death’, but neither seemed all too unhappy about that either. Things seemed between them as they always had, except if you were looking at it from the inside, as Ryan was. So glad was he at Colin’s nearness that Ryan had tried some subtle overtures, and while none of them was explicitly rebuffed, neither were they responded to. Never one to press his luck too far where Colin was concerned, he backed off, hopeful that whatever it was would amount to nothing but a passing phase, easily explained later on in the night, when they were finally alone. But then, the last lap dance was danced and the men finally called it an evening. Goodbyes were said, and Colin once again embraced him warmly and affectionately, this time pressing a kiss on the corner of his mouth before pulling away, smiling, and promptly leaving with Brad. Ryan looked on, stunned and bereft. Stranger still was that no one else seemed to notice. They all knew of Ryan’s relationship with Colin. They should have expected them to leave together. They should have had a great time razzing Ryan when they didn’t. Except that no one did. They all acted as if it were perfectly normal that Colin would leave with Brad and Ryan would be left standing there, a look of hurt and puzzlement on his face. Even Drew didn’t seem to notice, just telling him that he’d see him back at the hotel and to drive safely. Shaking his head and more determined than ever to get to the bottom of things, Ryan got into his rental and drove back to the hotel; a posh, upscale monstrosity that he never could have afforded in his younger days. It didn’t take much, even in these days of increased homeland security, to get the information he needed from the night clerk. A little flirtation still went a long way. Colin and Brad had booked two different rooms. Not that that meant anything, of course. They were celebrities, and fodder such as two grown and relatively wealthy men sharing a room would have been too good for the media to pass up. He also got Colin’s room number, and without bothering to change, headed straight for it. If what he suspected was true and he was about to interrupt some athletic activities of the horizontal kind, well, that was too damn bad. He wasn’t going to leave until he got some answers. His knock was answered with relative alacrity by Colin, who traded his tuxedo for a pair of worn sweatpants and a pristine white t-shirt that molded itself to the body beneath. Ryan’s eyes were likewise molded to that body, and he felt a distinct lack of air in his lungs. Colin’s smile, or what Ryan saw of it, was warm and welcoming. “Ryan! Come in!” “I…uh…I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Ryan asked, suddenly nervous. “Not at all. Please, come in. Can I get you something to drink?” “Just water, please,” Ryan replied, looking around the room as he entered. It was a suite, like his, and aside from Colin, appeared to be uninhabited. He found himself sniffing without meaning to. Brad wore a distinctive cologne, but the scent of it wasn’t present anywhere in the room. He felt himself breathing a little easier. “Sit down,” Colin said, returning to his side with a bottle of mineral water and handing it over. “Make yourself at home.” Ryan readily did as requested, seating himself on the plush couch and twisting off the bottle’s cap. He took a deep swallow and turned his attention to Colin. “So,” Colin continued, “what brings you to my doorstep this evening?” Ryan felt his heart plummet to somewhere in the area of his knees. “If you have to ask,” he managed to croak out, “then there really is a problem.” “I’m not understanding,” Colin said, his puzzlement genuine. His mouth now completely dry, Ryan took another healthy swallow of his water, hoping his stomach would be able to keep it down. He felt sick. Utterly and totally sick. “I…think I should go.” The hand on his arm was gentle, but implacable. “Ryan, wait. I’m missing something here, and I need to know what that is. Please. Tell me.” Dragging a hand through his hair, he forced his gaze back up to Colin’s kind, patient eyes. His own were filled with abject misery. “I…. Um…. “ He took in a deep, shuddering breath, then forced the words out. “Fuck, Col, I thought we were going to be spending this weekend, you know, together.” Colin’s face sagged. His mouth opened slightly. In shock, Ryan thought. His stomach plummeted again. “Ryan,” he finally said, barely above a whisper, “it’s been over a year.” “So?” Ryan asked, voice just as quiet. “We’ve been apart longer than that. It’s never been a problem before.” Colin sighed. “It’s always been a problem, Ryan. You know that.” Ryan looked down at his hands, not wanting to acknowledge the truth of that statement, but forced to nonetheless. “Ok, maybe it was a problem, but it never stopped us from…you know…getting together when we could. Hell, Col, I love you!” “And I love you, Ryan. But since Deb and I divorced….” “Wait,” Ryan demanded, holding up a hand. “Back up a minute, here. Divorced? You and Deb? How? When?” Colin’s mouth opened in shock again. “You didn’t know?” “Obviously, or I wouldn’t be asking you these fucking questions, Colin!” “I left messages,” Colin replied, shaking his head. “Several of them. On your cell. With Pat. With Drew.” “I never got any of them!” Ryan protested. Colin sagged in the couch. “Well, at least that makes sense now. I’d wondered why you didn’t call back. I thought maybe you just didn’t care anymore.” “Jesus Christ, Colin!” Ryan exploded. “Of course I fucking care!” “What was I to think?” Colin countered, his voice still soft and neutral in its tone. “I tried to contact you every way I knew how, and you never returned my calls. After so long, I just figured….” He trailed off, his fingers going to the pale ring of flesh where his wedding band used to be. Ryan kicked himself for never even realizing that it wasn’t there anymore. “I’m sorry, Col,” Ryan finally said, voice rough and cracked. “I’m so sorry for not being there when you needed me.” “It’s okay, Ry,” Colin whispered, reaching out and gathering the taller man in close. “It’s ok. It makes more sense now that I know. I guess Pat just didn’t want you to know, and I suppose Drew thought you knew already.” Ryan clung to Colin tightly, flushed face pressed to his friend’s shoulder. “How are you holding up?” he finally managed to ask. “Not bad,” Colin answered truthfully. “It was a mutual thing, really. All very amicable. I have joint custody of Luke and see him often. Deb and I are still close friends, odd as that might sound.” “It doesn’t sound odd at all,” Ryan replied, finally pulling away. “You guys always shared something special.” “Yeah,” Colin affirmed, nodding and smiling slightly. “We did. We do. I don’t know what I would have done if it had turned bitter, like so many do.” “I’m glad it didn’t.” “So am I.” “Well,” Ryan began haltingly, “is your…distance…from me because you thought I didn’t care?” “Oh, Ryan,” Colin breathed, “no. It’s not that at all. I’ll admit that I was hurt, a little, at first. But after awhile, I just chalked it up to the fact that we never talk to one another when we’re not together. That’s just the way we are. I accepted that.” “Then why?” He found himself frowning. “It’s Brad, isn’t it.” Colin floored him by actually laughing. “No, Ry. It’s not Brad. In case you haven’t noticed, Brad’s straight.” “Yeah,” Ryan snorted, “as straight as you and I are.” Colin shrugged, still chuckling. “Well, if he is, he hasn’t shared that part of himself with me.” “But…I saw you two guys tonight at the bar. Touching and everything….” “Ryan, we’ve been touring together for years now. Day after day, night after night. That kind of thing brings with it a certain level of physical intimacy.” He looked pointedly at Ryan. Ryan nodded, reluctantly. “I suppose so.” “Besides,” Colin continued, “as much as I adore Brad, and I do adore him, there are some things about him I’d rather not know. What he looks like in bed is one of those things.” “So, if it’s not that you resent that I didn’t call, and it’s not Brad, then what is it? What did I do?” “Ryan, you didn’t do anything. It’s not you.” “’It’s not you, it’s me’? Is that it?” Colin sighed. “Ryan….” He was interrupted by a series of soft beeps at the door, heralding the use of a key card. The lock clicked, the door opened, and a casually dressed man entered, hands filled with beer and munchies. “I come bearing gifts! Ry! Hey, man! I didn’t expect to see you here! How the fuck are you?” Ryan felt all of the blood drain from his head. Buzzing sounded loudly in his ears. His stomach knotted and cramped. Utter rage filled him, and he clenched his jaw hard against the overwhelming need to either vomit or lash out with his fists. Or perhaps both. He jumped to his feet, unable to feel his legs. “I’ve…got to go. Now.” “Ryan!” Colin cried out, rising with him. “Don’t go. Please!” “I’m outta here,” he grunted. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” “Ryan!” But Ryan was beyond listening. He strode for the door, brushing past the visitor—visitor! his mind shouted, that’s no visitor! That’s his fucking lover!—hard enough to send the man back a few steps. Within seconds he had disappeared. “What the fuck? Col? What was that all about? Col? What is it?” Colin felt the couch depress and warm arms come around him. Turning, he buried his flushed face into a warm, cotton-clad shoulder. “He didn’t know,” he said, finally allowing the tears to fall. “He didn’t know any of it.” “Oh, man, I’m sorry. Fuck. It’s gonna be alright, Col. It will be. You’ll see.” Wrapping his arms more tightly around his sobbing lover, Greg Proops stared blindly at the now closed door. The beers grew warm on the floor. FIN