Title - Domesticity with Colin
Pairing – one guess…
Rating - hmm...tough one. You decide. R for language and petting? *gives a thumbs up*
Summary – a quiet evening at home. mostly fluff mush smut (say that five times fast * giggle*)
Author's note – There's only one original character and its 'Jeffrey' the cat.
Disclaimer - *sigh* Sometimes I forget to include these, but as you all know, I do not own Ryan, but I *do* co-own Colin…LOL. Kidding. KIDDING! Stop throwing rocks! I don't own anyone and this is purely fiction. If this resembles anything real, then WHOO FRICKKIN' HOO! That said, enjoy! (also, yeah, I like reviews so don't hesitate. I even accept flames. Great for toasting marshmellows)


The silence is comfortable. The heat from the fireplace fogs the windows, making the snow melt against the panes in that standard formation – a kind of sloping hill. The sky outside is dark but not night. The clouds have that misty gray lining so thick it hides the sun, and Colin murmurs something against Ryan's pillow as the other man smiles faintly to himself. Colin always murmurs in his sleep.

Jeffrey, the silver tabby purrs from the hallway and Ryan tosses a large slipper in his direction as he scurries away. Damn cat. Always making a grand entrance. The clock says that it's four in the afternoon, and Ryan realizes he and Colin have done nothing but stay in bed all day. Still, he doesn't regret it. They'd both needed rest. Now, however, the tall man needs food. His stomach won't wait for Colin.

Sliding gently out of bed, so as not to wake his lover, Ryan quietly finds his robe in the darkened room before heading to the kitchen. Driving a hand through his sandy hair, he surveys the fridge for something to cook.

"Plenty of eggs." He grumbles, wishing he had a steak instead – and maybe a potato but unwilling to leave the house in the snow. Not to mention, unwilling to leave Colin.

They've been together for close to five years. Everything still feels so new – even after a solid fifteen years spent flirting and skimming the edges of feelings. Ryan had been the outspoken one, emotional and needy. Colin has always been more understated, more reserved, but his eyes betray everything. His ardor is always evident in those warm brown pools.

"Hey." Ryan glances up mid scramble, to see the object of his desire, groggy, disheveled, wearing flannel pajama pants and a gray t-shirt. He smiles and looks so adorable with his white hair all mussed.

"I smelled food." Colin says, still a bit hoarse.

Ryan looks thoughtful. "Sorry if I woke you. I was hungry."

Colin wipes sleep from his right eye. "Smells good."

"How'd you sleep?" Ryan is overcooking his eggs, Colin notices but doesn't say anything.

"Okay. You?"

Ryan smirks. "Great – since it was with you."

Colin replies. "And since we got that posturepedic bed."

Ryan makes a face. "Yeah. That helps." His green eyes slide up to meet Colin's and the Canadian smiles warmly.

"What?" Ryan asks, blissfully.

Col shrugs, smirking. "Oh. Nothing really. Just…your eggs. They're kind of on fire."

Glancing down, Ryan notices the side of the pan has a small flame on the edge and the eggs have seemingly turned to yellowish rubber. "Shit!" He takes the pan to the sink and turns the fire on it, creating a huge cloud of smoke. Colin simply watches, amused. Ryan is disastrous in the kitchen. When he faces Colin again, though, he looks crushed.

Colin's eyes are instantly filled with concern. "What?"

Ryan grumbles, wearing a sort of half-pout, half grimace. "I wanted to fix us something."

Immediately, Colin is beside him, a hand on his arm. "Don't worry. We'll order out."

Still pouting as Colin goes to get the phone book, Ryan murmurs. "It isn't the same."

Colin glances over his shoulder at the other man. "Hey, this'll be better. Besides – you don't really care for eggs that much."

Ryan shrugs his acknowledgement. "Yeah. I guess you're right."

Miraculously, Colin orders the exact thing Ryan was thinking of (sort of), a couple of cheese steaks and fries. While they wait, Colin spruces up the Christmas tree, pouring water into the base and spraying the needles with a light mist. Ryan pretends to be searching their CD collection for music but he is actually watching Colin.

The older man is incredibly attractive, tall (though not quite as tall as Ryan) and slender. His face is warm and personable and when he smiles, Ryan feels his heart skip. It's always been that way. There's just something about those dimples.

"What are you looking at?" Colin asks, bringing Ryan out of his reverie.

Smirking, he shrugs. "You, of course. I was just thinking that I haven't touched you in a while."

Colin stands his ground, a grin threatening the corners of his mouth. "Uh huh…"

Ryan approaches, slowly. "Have I told you today that I love you?"

Colin pretends to count on his fingers. "Let's see…um…only about four hundred times before I went to sleep." Ryan envelopes the shorter man in his arms as he continues to rattle away. "In fact, I counted `I love yous' instead of sheep – to help me drift off. It proved quite effective."

Ryan's body seems to encompass all of Colin's. "Well, here's another one. I love you, Colin."

Colin wraps his arms around Ryan's slim waist. "We really need to fatten you up a bit…Christmas is just around the corner, y'know – at this rate, you'll never be enough to feed the minions." He leans in close to gently bite Ryan's neck. "See what I mean? Skin and bones."

Ryan chuckles low in his throat. "Speaking of bones…"

Colin's face warms before he murmurs. "The delivery guy…"

"…Will wait." Ryan finishes the thought as his hands drift beneath Colin's shirt, brushing long fingers across a soft ticklish belly. Colin makes a sound close to a gasp.

"Ahh…" Ryan comments. "…you can dish it out, but you can't take it."

Colin rests his hands on Ryan's shoulder, his face already turning a pretty pinkish color. "We said we wouldn't discuss our shortcomings…"

"I love you." Ryan whispers again, lifting the shirt over Colin's head.

"I can see that." Colin remarks, noticing the swelling beneath Ryan's robe. "And I love you too."

"Do you?" Ryan inquires, brushing his lips across Colin's chest, holding onto his waist.

Colin has something close to a hot flash as Ryan's tongue touches his left nipple. "God yes…you have no idea…"

Behind them, a tree ornament crashes to the floor and shatters as Jeffrey scampers across the room.

"Fucking cat!" Ryan hisses, moving up to kiss and lick the soft skin where Colin's neck meets his shoulder.

Colin is becoming weak in the knees and holds onto Ryan for leverage. "I love that cat."

"I hate that cat."

"He's sweet…"

"He's Satan."

"He's an angel…Oh, Ryan…"

For the most part, Ryan is big on foreplay, but occasionally he loses his patience and goes for the gusto – like now. His hand has somehow managed to snake its way between them and slide inside Colin's pants. Their eyes meet.

"I hope…you're proud of yourself." Colin says in a constrained voice.

Ryan gives his lover another gentle tug. "I am most certainly proud of myself."

Colin feels his head tilting back a bit. He's getting lost in this. "You're going to m-make me soil myself."

Ryan has begun a slow rhythm. "I was counting on it."

Without preamble, Ryan brings his mouth forward to latch onto Colin's and they kiss deeply. Colin lets Ryan lick his tongue and feels the familiar warmth pooling inside him, signaling imminence.

During moments like these, it's hard to imagine they weren't always a couple. Aside from always having carried a torch for Colin, Ryan has always wanted to be with him – to live with him. Deep down, he'd always imagined it would be like this, domesticity with Colin.

They sleep together, eat together, watch TV together, go for long walks – and even though they've always done this, it never gets old or tiresome. Ryan wakes up every morning, glad this man is next to him, knowing he could never have it any other way.

And Colin is the same. Without Ryan, he is lost, feigning bravery and contentedness while slowly diminishing inside. He is always happily surprised to find Ryan waiting for him – almost in disbelief that it could be so good. He comes home and greets Ryan with his sincere smile and a warm hug. They kiss. They fit. It always feels so comfortable – like home. Two people were never as compatible.

Currently, though, Colin is being pulled deeper and deeper into the passionate whirlpool that is their lovemaking. Ryan's face is flushed near-crimson, and (because of lack of time) letting Colin bring him off as he continues to mirror those same actions on Colin. Their lips are swollen and they are gasping and so close, so close. Colin's hand is beneath Ryan's robe while his other hand slides through the silky golden waves of his hair.

In another instant, five occurrences take place. First, Colin shudders, spilling himself over Ryan's hand, next, Ryan moans and empties himself on Colin's still pumping fist, then, as another ornament crashes and shatters, Ryan groans "Fuck!" as Jeffrey dashes across the carpet and out of sight, and the doorbell chimes, making both men chuckle breathlessly, wide-eyed with amusement and awe.

"I hate that goddamned cat, Colin."

Ten minutes later, after having cleaned up a bit and changed; both men are sitting in front of the television, drinking a beer and eating their takeout. There's some Christmas cartoon on that Ryan remembers from long ago, and he's singing along about the Heat Miser as Colin looks on in amusement. Their feet are up and they are enjoying another quiet evening at home. And, Colin suspects with a little gleam in his eyes, soon they'll be back in bed. (And, as per Ryan's request, Jeffrey will be locked on the other side of the door.)

FIN