Flight of Fancy By Kalimyre Pairing: Ryan/Colin Rating: R Category: First time, romance, AU Summary: A celebrity chef with stage fright and a pilot who hates to fly. Also known as that cracked AU that Clay hooked me on. Notes: This is Clay’s fault. (Thank you, Clay.) She gave me the idea and totally encouraged me and also betaed, so really, she’s practically a co-writer. Thanks also to Indy, who read each bit I sent and said nice things and made me want to write more, and to Jen who found time to beta despite being madly busy. ~~~ The first time, Colin wasn’t sure what to make of him, but couldn’t help liking him anyway. It was the end of a show, of a long series of shows in quick succession. He left the set and the cheers and laughter of the audience behind, leaning against the wall once he was out of sight and quickly peeling off his mike and battery pack. The scent of garlic and onions clung to his fingers like a second skin, making his eyes sting when he brought his hands up to his face. Techs and set assistants bustled past him in the dimly lit hallway, carrying the set up for the big sales pitch, the real reason for his job. “Hey.” Colin lifted his head slowly, and put on a smile. “Hey. That went all right.” Jamie Mattson, his direct supervisor (with the lofty but mostly inaccurate title of “talent manager”) stood in front of him, watching him carefully. “You were great, Colin,” he said. “You always are.” Colin just nodded, familiar with the spiel. He was great, everything he did was perfect, if he could just do this one little thing everyone would be very appreciative, and so on and so forth. Jamie liked to coddle and cajole, and while Colin preferred direct honesty, he’d gotten used to his manager’s ways. As his popularity on the cooking circuit had grown, Jamie had spent more and more time soothing what he imagined to be ruffled feathers and speaking in soft, ingratiating tones. For all that, though, he was the one that invariably got Colin what he needed when it was time for a break, or there was a problem with the set, a wrinkle in the travel arrangements, or booking for a show. He was competent enough at his job that Colin didn’t have to worry about the administrative end of things, and for that he was grateful. He just wished Jamie wouldn’t treat him like such a kid sometimes. “So,” Colin said, dusting his hands together, “what’s next?” “Flight to Boston. You’re doing the clam chowder, with Kitchen Tech’s new slow cooker and food processor.” “Okay. Tonight?” “Nah, the show’s not till tomorrow. I’ve already got your hotel room set up, you’ll get there in plenty of time to get some rest.” Jamie slung an arm around his shoulders and steered him down the hall, chattering all the while. “Sales are down on the slow cooker in particular--no patience these days, you know. People want their cooking done instantly, it’s the age of the microwave and the drive through, no appreciation for the craft.” He shook his head and tsked, squeezing Colin a little. Colin nodded dutifully and let him keep talking. It was what Jamie loved to do, and it meant Colin himself didn’t have to come up with something salient to add. After three shows in a single day, he felt wrung out and stupid with tiredness. “Anyway, they want you to really push the slow cooker, talk it up with that funny, charming stuff you’re so good at. Make it look fun.” He held up a hand, even though Colin hadn’t interrupted. “Now I know, that sounds difficult. I mean, it’s a pot that cooks food. Not a lot of fun. But if anyone can do it, I know you can. Didn’t you do great with that chicken recipe, the one with all the fresh herbs that took forever to chop up? There you were, standing for like twenty minutes just cutting stuff, and you kept the audience laughing the whole time. Don’t know how you do it, buddy. It was amazing how many of those knife sets we sold off that show. So I’m sure this is gonna be great, and hey, I’ll be there beforehand, making sure all the ingredients are on hand and the finished chowder will be ready at the right time. Oh, and I noticed there was a little drag today around the eggs, when you had to separate them, you want me to have that done in advance? In a couple different bowls... on second thought, you did get a laugh on the egg thing, so we could keep it in. Fewer eggs in the chowder anyway, aren’t there?” Colin shrugged, but Jamie wasn’t waiting for an answer. He rattled on, and Colin tuned him out and enjoyed the fresh air as they crossed the parking lot. It was dark, the early autumn air carrying a decided bite that slipped beneath his thin shirt and woke him up a little. He watched the sky but could only spot a few of the brighter stars; the city lights blocked most of them. “Oh, and we got that plane,” Jamie said as Colin was getting into the car. “Plane?” Colin asked, staring distractedly out the window. He couldn’t quite remember the last time he had driven himself anywhere, but at the moment he was glad of Jamie’s driving. It meant he could doze a bit before the airport and the inevitable hassles that came with it. “Mmm, yeah, I finally talked the board into contracting a private pilot and plane for you. In the long run, the expense evens out when you think of all the time we save, not to mention the stress factor, you know, airports.” He gave a theatrical shudder. “It’s only when you’re on tour, and with the numbers you’ve been generating in after show sales, you’ve got a lot of pull with the company right now. Wasn’t that hard to get, really.” Colin frowned, wrinkling his nose. “A private plane? That’s excessive, isn’t it?” Jamie gave him a look, amused and indulgent. “Colin, buddy, haven’t you been hearing me? You’re the big star, act like one. It makes Kitchen Tech feel like they’re treating you right, showing some appreciation for all the revenue you’ve gotten for them, and it boosts your image in the media, plus it streamlines the whole planning process when we don’t have to work around the commercial flight system.” He patted Colin’s arm, and his voice went low and earnest. “Come on, just give it a try. I know you don’t like airports, and with this we can go with small, nearby airstrips and skip the whole process, the security and the lines and all that crap. Please? Humor me on this one?” “Okay,” Colin sighed. “It just seems... pretentious, I guess.” Jamie laughed and patted his arm again before returning both hands to the steering wheel. “Believe me, when you see this plane, ‘pretentious’ won’t be the first word that comes to mind.” ~~~ Colin figured out what that meant when they walked around the little hangar and saw the plane parked on the runway, cast in a harsh orange light by the arc sodium street lamps. It had twin props and Colin counted four windows on the body, which meant it was probably an eight seater. It rested on three tiny wheels, nose pointed toward the sky. “Sarabeth” was painted on the side in tall, slightly crooked letters. “Um,” Colin said, hanging back a little. “Are you sure it flies?” “Course it does.” Jamie tugged him along, rounding one outstretched wing and coming to the door on the side of the plane. It was open, a set of thin metal stairs extended to the tarmac. As they approached, a man poked his head out, spotted them, and climbed out, bending his long, slim body awkwardly to escape the small doorway. “Hey,” he said, extending a hand. “I’m the pilot. You the chef guy?” “Yeah,” Colin said, a little bemused. He shook the pilot’s hand, startled by the long fingers and solid grip. People tended to handle him gently, as if he were made of spun sugar. The man was taller than Colin by a few inches, and wore jeans, a simple button down shirt and enormous sneakers. “Go on ahead,” Jamie said, nudging Colin toward the plane. “I’ve got to wrap things up here, finish up the sales report and make sure our contact information is good with the team on location. I’ll be catching a later flight. Once you get to Boston, a car should meet you at the air strip. You’ll be staying at the Boston Park Plaza Hotel and Towers, here...” He whipped out a notebook and wrote some information down, then handed Colin the page. “There’s the address and your room number. Call me if you run into any snags, okay? I’ll have my cell on.” “I’ve got it,” Colin told him patiently. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” “That’s what I like about you, you’re so upbeat,” Jamie said, patting him on the back. Sometimes Colin wondered if his manager really wanted to pat him on the head and call him a good boy, but just barely refrained from it. “See you in Boston,” Colin called and got into the plane, ducking his head to get through the door. It looked even smaller on the inside, a short row of seats and a low ceiling, then a pilot and co-pilot seat and a vast array of tiny dials and switches. The carpet and seats were all shades of rich, calming brown, though, and along the left side of the plane the seats had been removed in favor of a small couch that looked perfect for lying down. Colin found himself smiling; maybe this private plane idea was a good one. “’Scuse me,” the pilot said, edging past him. They jostled together briefly in the tight space and Colin raised his eyebrows at the sharp, wiry feel of the other man. Built like a bundle of sticks, but he seemed to carry it well. Gracefully, even. Colin sat in the first seat and watched as the pilot folded himself into the cockpit, his long legs bent nearly double for a moment before he fit them beneath the instrument console. “So,” Colin said, “I didn’t get your name earlier.” “Ryan,” he said over his shoulder, flashing a quick, polite smile. “You’re Mr. Mochrie, right?” “Colin is fine, thanks.” Ryan nodded and began tapping a few switches. Colin felt the engines thrum to life and a hum filled the little plane, but it wasn’t as noisy as he’d feared. It was a steady white noise he could easily fall asleep to, actually, and he grinned. This was looking better all the time. The plane crept forward on its wheels and turned once they were at the end of the short runway, lining the nose up with the center line. Colin could see colored lights all the way down the edges of the runway, blinking steadily, and the lights of the city beyond that, but the space directly in front of them seemed dark and empty. He’d been on so many planes that they were commonplace to him now, and boring, but the immediacy of being able to look right out the front window was actually a bit exciting. Colin wondered if he’d be allowed to sit in the co-pilot seat, and if it would be silly to ask. Once they were poised for take-off Ryan stopped moving, and Colin could see his shoulders rise and fall as he took a deep breath. He ran a hand through his hair and from what Colin could see of his profile, Ryan was biting his lip, his face set in tense lines. “Hey,” he said after a long moment, and Ryan jumped. “Yeah?” he replied, not looking at Colin. “Is, uh... are you all right? You look a little worried.” Ryan shrugged and offered him a sheepish look. “Hate flying, that’s all. Scares the crap out of me.” Colin blinked. “What? But why...” “You should buckle up,” Ryan interrupted, and pushed on something with his foot. The engines cycled up and the plane began to move forward rapidly, pressing Colin back against his seat. He buckled up, fumbling in his haste. They ascended quickly, the small, light plane taking to the air with what seemed like no effort at all. Colin watched the lights of civilization retreat through the window until the low cloud cover blocked them, and then he looked forward again. Ryan had both hands on the yoke, white knuckled, tendons standing out in his bony wrists. He was perfectly still, frozen upright in place, but his eyes flicked constantly over the instruments. Colin could see a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and upper lip. He watched Ryan until they leveled off and he flipped a switch, let go of the yoke, and slumped in his seat with a long sigh. Colin fiddled with his seatbelt, considered the couch, and then decided against it. It was only a one hour flight anyway, and he had a hopefully soft hotel bed to look forward to. Besides, he was curious. “Are you okay?” Colin asked, leaning toward the still-slumped pilot. His eyes were closed, one hand covering his face. “Sure,” Ryan said, lifting his head. “It’s just take-offs that get me. And landings.” He considered for a moment, glancing at the instruments. “And everything in between.” Colin thought maybe he was very tired, and that was why he was confused. Maybe it made perfect sense, and he just didn’t get it. “Oh,” he said faintly. And then, when Ryan got up and sat on the couch across from him, “Shouldn’t you be flying the plane?” “Auto-pilot,” Ryan said, shrugging. “It’ll tell me when it’s time to land. Until then, we’re good.” “Oh,” Colin said again. He eyed the empty pilot seat nervously, but their flight was steady and calm, and he didn’t see any flashing red lights or hear any alarms, so they were probably okay. There was a rattling noise beside him and Colin turned, raising his eyebrows when he saw Ryan holding a prescription pill bottle and shaking two pills into his palm. They were white and tiny, dwarfed by his enormous hand. Ryan pulled a bottled water from beneath the couch and opened it, swallowing the pills with a couple gulps. “What’s that?” Colin asked, watching as Ryan put the pill bottle back in his shirt pocket. “Benzodiazepine.” Ryan caught his look and gave a reassuring smile. “They’re just anti-anxiety meds. Makes it so I can concentrate on the flying.” “Oh.” Colin thought vaguely that he was saying ‘oh’ an awful lot. “You want one?” Colin shook his head. “What? No, I... I’m fine.” “Hmm.” Ryan shrugged and patted his pocket, where the pills were. “Well, if you change your mind, offer’s still good. It’s just that you’re looking pretty nervous over there.” “I wonder why,” Colin replied dryly. “Why are you a pilot, if you hate flying so much?” Ryan looked away, folding his arms. “We’ll be there in less than an hour. Why don’t you lie down for a while? I’m pretty sure your company went with me because my plane’s got a couch. Be a shame to waste it.” Then he got to his feet and slipped back into the pilot seat, putting a radio earpiece and mike over his head. Colin frowned, but the couch did look inviting, and Ryan didn’t seem inclined to talk anymore. So he lay down, lacing his fingers behind his head and letting the deep hum of the engines seep into his bones. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next time he opened his eyes, the plane was tilted in a controlled descent and a light tan blanket had been carefully draped over him. He sat up, smiling at the blanket, and saw Ryan holding the yoke again, with that same intense stillness and rapid, compulsive checking of the instruments. Colin got into the nearest seat and buckled up, although from what he could see out the window, they were nearly on the ground. It looked like another small runway, but he could see bigger ones, a confusing maze of long lines of light, crisscrossing and growing closer. They were flying into a major airport, then, but apparently into the back of it, away from the big terminal building. They touched down with a faint bump and the nose bounced back up, as if the plane wanted to be back in the air. They coasted down the runway half grounded and half flying, on two wheels, until their speed dropped and the nose settled again with a thump. Ryan relaxed a little once that happened, and a little more once they’d taxied to a stop beside another hangar. He cut the engines and they whirred down to nothing, leaving a sudden and unfamiliar silence after the steady hum of the past hour. “Hey, we survived,” Ryan said, offering Colin a grin. “You’re surprised?” “Always am,” he replied. “You sleep all right?” Colin nodded, feeling a little embarrassed at the way he’d knocked out so quickly, in front of a stranger. He usually didn’t feel comfortable enough to sleep in the company of people he didn’t know well, but he supposed it must have been the sound and vibration, not to mention his own exhaustion. “Thanks for the blanket,” he said, darting a smile at the pilot. “Sure, no problem.” Ryan stood and opened the door, squeezing out and hopping down the steps, skipping the last two. “Thanks for flying Ryan air,” he chirped, smiling like an overly perky flight attendant. “Have a nice day. Buh-bye then, good night, we know you have a choice when it comes to flying and we’re glad you chose us...” He trailed off, laughing, and lifted a hand to Colin, steadying him as he went down the steps. “All that jazz,” he finished, shrugging. “Flight attendants are usually good looking,” Colin said. Then he let go of Ryan’s hand when he realized he was still holding it. “Yeah, that’s a myth, actually. Urban legend.” Ryan looked at him for a long moment, then shook himself and turned toward the hangar. “I think that’s your car over there.” “Oh, yeah, guess it is.” Colin took a few steps, then paused, glancing back at Ryan. “I’m here for a couple days... so I guess I’ll see you for the next flight?” Ryan leaned back against his plane and smiled, nodding at him. “Yeah. See you then. If you’d like drinks on the plane--bring your own.” Colin laughed softly and nodded, then turned and headed for his waiting car. When he got there, he could still see Ryan, tall and lean in silhouette, standing with one hand resting on the gangway of the plane and speaking to someone Colin assumed worked in the hangar. Ryan looked in his direction, and it was too dark to see his face, but Colin smiled anyway. That was the first time he flew with Ryan. ~~~ Two days later, Colin was still yawning as he crossed the airfield, his breath puffing out in front of him, white plumes in the early morning air. Boston was going through an unseasonable cold snap and, while Jamie had spent the past two days muttering and shivering, Colin had enjoyed it. The crispness seemed to make things clearer, sliding through his head and cleaning out the accumulated junk. Besides, when he had to get up at such an ungodly hour the cold helped him wake up far better than coffee would ever manage. They had an early flight, and a morning show in Albany where he’d be making omelets and dealing skillets. A short spot this time, just a walk on, which was good in a way because it meant less time under the lights, but it also meant sharing the set with a number of other guests and compromising on space and equipment available. Jamie was working on that end, though, and Colin trusted him to take care of it. They’d done well in Boston, although that first show had run into a few snags. That was the hardest part about solo performance; if something went wrong, he was on his own. Colin had talked to Jamie about a partner or at the very least an assistant, someone to play off and pick up the slack if he ever stumbled, and Jamie had made reassuring noises about how he wouldn’t stumble and he always did just fine and he wasn’t to worry his head about it. Colin had taken that as a no and dropped it. He didn’t know anyone he’d want to perform with anyway; most of his friends were either cooks or salesmen, while he needed someone who was a little of both. “So the pilot is working out for you?” Jamie asked, walking at his side. Colin didn’t answer for a moment, and then he registered that Jamie had actually stopped speaking and was waiting for a reply. “Sure,” he said, nodding. “He’s fine.” “I’m fairly sure he was the low bidder,” Jamie said, leaning in as if divulging a secret. “So if there are any problems, if you don’t feel he’s fully professional or respectful, I can talk to some people, take care of it. No problem at all, buddy, you say the word.” “He’s fine,” Colin repeated. “What, did you think he wouldn’t be?” “Well...” Jamie pulled them to a stop, just outside the small hanger Colin remembered landing at two days ago. “It’s just that after we did the chowder and slow cooker show, I was coordinating with KT about the flight thing, pros and cons, you know, and Steve--you remember Steve, right? The expenses management guy? Anyway, he was saying he thought they were hedging their bets with this guy a little, because they thought you’d go on one flight with him and decide commercial was better. Apparently he’s got a bit of a weird reputation.” “Huh,” Colin said, biting back a smile. “Can’t imagine why.” Jamie shrugged and started walking again, leading them around to the open end of the building. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy, don’t I always say that? Sure I do. So, the Albany show, again with the eggs, huh? They really are in everything. They want you to push the nonstick deal, so no cooking spray, no grease, any of that. Mention no chemicals, no fatty butter to cook it in, those are the big points. Oh, and even heat distribution. I’ll have some notes for you before the show, don’t worry. You want the vegetables pre-sliced? It’s only a fifteen minute bit, you might not have time to do them all. Maybe we cut some of them in advance, leave just a couple for you to do, you always put on a good show with the knives. You making more than one omelet? Maybe a veggie and a meat, do the variety thing. Space for both of them in the pan, stuff like that. I’m sure you’ve got it covered, you always do.” Colin let him go on, smiling slightly. It was kind of strange to think that Jamie was probably his best friend. Certainly not the kind of person he’d imagine if asked to think of his ideal friend, but he had to admit Jamie had always been there for him, backing him up and making sure every detail was covered. The guy probably got even less sleep than he did. But still, if Colin had to come up with a friend, it would be someone quieter. Someone who could say a lot with a few words. And definitely someone with a sense of humor. “Hey.” Colin looked up and found himself grinning. Ryan was leaning against his plane, still with the blue jeans and sneakers, but he’d added a worn leather jacket against the chill morning. “Hey,” Colin said, lifting one hand in a half-wave before feeling silly and dropping it. Ryan offered a small smile, yawning halfway through. “Morning,” he said, and the tone made it clear that it wasn’t a greeting, but more of an epithet. “Yeah,” Colin replied. He stood at the base of the stairs, hands in his pockets, not sure if he was waiting for Ryan to go in first or waiting for a hand to offer help he didn’t really need. “A car will take you to the studio directly from the airport,” Jamie said, coming up from behind and startling him. Colin had forgotten he was still there. “I’m sorry I can’t make it for this one, you know I love to get to your shows but I really have to be in Detroit to coordinate for the big KT conference there. You’ve got a full week of shows there and we have several other presenters, got to prep for everyone and make sure there aren’t any scheduling snafus. You’ll fly to Detroit from Albany tomorrow, I’ve got the ground transport all set and I’ll call you with your hotel info for tonight, okay? You set?” “I’m set,” Colin said patiently. “Really.” He was tempted to remind Jamie that he had, in fact, managed to take care of himself for quite a few years before becoming Kitchen Tech’s golden boy. But Jamie meant well, and even if Colin were to say something like that, he’d only smile and tell him he didn’t have to worry about that stuff anymore, that was why he had Jamie. “Okay, good, I’ll see you in Detroit. Call me if there are any problems at all, right?” “Right.” Colin watched him walk away, already talking on his cell, one hand waving emphatically, collar pulled up around his ears and his shoulders hunched against the cold. “Interesting guy,” Ryan said, straight faced but with a telltale crinkle at the corners of his eyes. “Mmm.” Colin shrugged. “He’s very good at what he does.” “I can tell.” Ryan turned toward the plane and extended a hand to Colin. “Shall we?” Colin took the hand, for a moment feeling absurdly like a southern belle who must be escorted everywhere and can never open a door for herself, but Ryan’s grip was strong and solid and perfunctory, refreshingly simple. Ryan followed him into the plane and pulled the door shut, retracting the stairs. “Hey, uh,” Colin began, watching Ryan fold himself into the pilot seat. “You think I could sit up front?” He half expected Ryan to laugh, or at least roll his eyes, but he did neither. “Sure, go for it. Just promise not to, you know, knock me out and steal the plane.” “Damn, there go my plans,” Colin said, snapping his fingers. Ryan chuckled and began turning things on and Colin settled in beside him, eying the buttons and switches all within reach. It was tempting to push a few and see what would happen... and also to see how Ryan would react. If he had to guess, he thought Ryan would probably act as cool about it as possible, all while frantically trying to correct whatever Colin had messed up. “What?” Colin looked up, raising his eyebrows. “What, what?” “You were smiling. Diabolically.” “Oh.” Colin caught himself grinning again and schooled his expression. “I’m Canadian,” he said. “We do that.” “I’ll keep that in mind,” Ryan said, and the engines rumbled to life. Colin buckled his seatbelt and leaned forward, peering out the front window. He could see the nose of the plane sloping off past his field of view and, just barely, the props on either wing gaining speed. There were the individual blades, then a blurred circle, and then three blades seemed to appear again, slowly turning within an eye-tricking wash of gray metal. “Okay,” Ryan muttered, staring intently at the runway in front of them. “Today’s goal: don’t die. Second goal: see first goal.” “You’re so cheerful,” Colin said. “I’m a morning person. Couldn’t you tell?” And then Ryan hit the throttle and they were pressed back into their seats, the engines straining to a high pitch. The plane lifted with the same ease Colin remembered from the first flight, like a kite in the wind. Ryan sat locked in place, arms quivering with tension, unblinking and pale. Colin could see him starting to sweat again, and from his new position in the co-pilot seat, he noticed that Ryan wasn’t completely still after all; one leg jiggled constantly, the ball of his foot thumping a rapid tattoo on the floor. From the cockpit, Colin couldn’t see over the sides very well, only straight ahead, so it was hard to tell how high they were. They seemed to go straight up like a rocket, the sky a clear, frosty blue all around. It was dizzying and amazing at once, and Colin was disappointed when they leveled out just above a wispy layer of clouds. Ryan hit the autopilot, closed his eyes, and sagged in his seat. One hand fumbled in his shirt pocket and pulled out his pill bottle. Colin twisted in his seat and spotted more of the bottled water under the front passenger seat, so he unbuckled and stretched over, snagging a couple. Ryan opened his eyes in time to see Colin holding the water out for him. “Thanks,” he said, twisting the cap. He swallowed two pills in quick succession and put the bottle away, sighing. Colin opened his own water and took a sip. “Welcome. Hope you don’t mind sharing.” “The pills?” Ryan asked without opening his eyes. “The water. Don’t really need the pills.” Colin winced, hoping that didn’t sound condescending. Ryan opened one eye and gave him a look that Colin couldn’t quite interpret. “Yeah.” Ryan shrugged. “Lucky you.” Colin studied the water bottle in his lap, picking at the label. “I didn’t mean... look, I’m sorry, that came out wrong.” “S’okay. I know it’s dumb, flying is safer than driving a car, all that. I know.” He waved a hand tiredly, then gave Colin a worn smile. Colin nodded, slightly uncomfortable. He had the odd feeling that he’d offended the other man, but he couldn’t quite tell for sure. “Why don’t you take the medicine before the flight?” he asked after a moment. “Can’t.” Ryan pulled the bottle from his pocket and passed it to Colin. “It causes drowsiness. Can’t have that during takeoff.” “Oh.” Colin frowned at the label, but it was mostly a jumble of very long, unpronounceable words and didn’t mean much to him. “But it’s okay to be drowsy afterward?” “Not really. It’s legal, though, because this is the low dosage stuff. I can’t take the powerful ones and fly but these ones are just safe enough.” Ryan took the bottle and knocked the back of his hand against Colin’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m not high. Unless you count altitude.” Colin smiled and looked out the window for a few minutes, but there was nothing to see but sky and more sky, so he watched Ryan. The pilot was stretched out as much as possible in his seat, arms slack at his sides, eyes closed. He’d unzipped his jacket but was still wearing it, and it hung open, showing an equally battered tee shirt with some kind of sports logo that Colin didn’t recognize. He followed Canadian hockey and was a fierce Bruins fan, but most American teams eluded him. “You know,” Colin began, and then bit his tongue when he realized he didn’t actually have anything to say. “I, uh... I get stage fright.” Which was not what he’d meant to say. Ryan’s eyes opened slowly, and he turned his head toward Colin, raising one eyebrow. “Aren’t you on stage all the time?” “Yeah.” Colin shrugged, lifting his hands. “I guess I just... you’re not the only one who gets nervous about something, is all I’m saying. If that makes sense. Um. Which it probably doesn’t. Sorry, I... it’s very early, you know?” Colin closed his eyes for a moment and wondered if banging his head on the instrument console would make the plane crash. He was not one for nervous babble. That was usually Jamie’s department. “No, it makes sense,” Ryan said, and he was smiling, the first real smile Colin had seen from him. It made his eyes crinkle and his face light up and Colin found himself smiling back without meaning to. Without even being aware of it. “Oh,” Colin said. “Good.” “Yeah.” Ryan shook his head a little, chuckling. “Stage fright. Really? Cause I’ve seen your show, and you don’t look nervous to me.” “You’ve seen my show?” Colin told himself that he really shouldn’t feel so pleased about that. Lots of people had seen his show, after all. That was pretty much the whole point. “Once or twice,” Ryan said, all nonchalance, but the smile still lingered around his eyes. “It’s not bad.” “No, stop, you’re embarrassing me,” Colin said dryly. “And I’m okay on stage, it’s just, you know, beforehand. Knowing I have to go out there and come up with stuff and people are expecting me to be funny and clever and if I screw up, I’ll just be standing there like an idiot while everyone looks at me and it’s not like anyone is going to step in and be funny for me so I’m not allowed to make a mistake. It’s kind of an all or nothing thing.” He paused and took a drink of water, looking out the window. He could feel heat rising in his cheeks and knew he was blushing. “Uh... okay, I’m babbling. Sorry. I’m stopping now.” “It’s fine,” Ryan said quietly, and when Colin managed to meet his eyes, Ryan gave him another smile; smaller this time, but just as real. Colin shrugged and looked out the window again, not sure how to respond. He hadn’t even told Jamie about his performance nerves, mostly because he knew Jamie would fuss and worry and reassure and tell him he was great and really, that wasn’t what he needed at all. “You go on anyway,” Ryan pointed out. “You fly anyway,” Colin replied, waving a hand to indicate the plane. “Yeah, well...” Ryan sighed and fiddled with the cap of his water bottle. “Still kinda sucks, doesn’t it?” “Yeah,” Colin said, and surprised himself by laughing. “Sadly, I have no other skills.” “I could teach you to fly,” Ryan offered. “Really?” Colin sat forward eagerly in his seat, touching the co-pilot yoke with one fingertip. “As long as you promise not to crash the plane.” “I make no guarantees,” Colin said. And Ryan smiled. ~~~ Colin barely remembered Albany, and he hadn’t even left yet. The show hadn’t been a disaster, but it hadn’t been his best either. The counter they’d given him to work on was too small to really spread everything out and show it, and the heat source for his skillet was low power, so the omelets took far too long to cook and he was left trying to fill the extra time with clever chatter, but there was only so much clever chatter he could come up with about eggs. He’d gotten a few laughs, but he was used to getting far more and the uncomfortable stretches of silence had left an uneasy feeling in his gut long after the show was over. He’d spent the rest of the day in his hotel room, catching up on some sleep and roaming around the internet with his laptop. Unable to suppress his curiosity, Colin had looked up Ryan’s anti-anxiety meds, and was reassured to find that they were indeed legal for pilots, taken in small doses. Not that he’d suspected Ryan of lying, but... good to know. He’d also researched a lot of information about small aircraft and how to fly them. The short lesson Ryan had given him had captured his interest, and the few minutes where he’d actually gotten to bank the plane from side to side a little had been exhilarating. Until he’d banked just a tad too much and Ryan had grabbed the yoke and leveled them, barely breathing until the auto-pilot was back on. That had been the end of the lesson, and Colin couldn’t really blame Ryan for stopping. The guy had looked like he was going to have a nervous breakdown. He’d laughed afterward, though, and promised another lesson next time. Once his heart rate had a chance to slow down, he’d said. Colin was in the car Jamie had arranged for, riding to the small local airport they’d landed at the day before. They had a long flight today--that was something else Colin had checked online. Most of the commercial flights he could find pinned travel time between Albany and Detroit around three hours, but he figured those big jets could probably go faster than Ryan’s little Cessna. For all he knew, they might even need to make a refueling stop. Normally Colin couldn’t wait for flights to be over, but since he’d started flying with Ryan they’d been more of a fun break, a chance to relax and joke around and have a measure of peace and quiet. Colin smiled when they pulled up to the hangar and he saw the little plane and Ryan standing, as always, leaning one shoulder on the tail. Ryan straightened and waved when Colin got out, so Colin returned the gesture, telling himself that he should really stop grinning like an idiot. “Hey,” Ryan said, and it was fast becoming tradition, him saying that. “Hey,” Colin replied. He caught himself dropping his gaze shyly and brought it back up, standing taller. “You going to let me fly again today?” “Depends.” Ryan held a hand out to him and Colin took it automatically, going up the steps. “On what?” Colin asked once they were inside. When there was no answer, he looked up from stowing his small overnight bag beneath the seat and caught Ryan looking at him, an odd little smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. Ryan looked away quickly, then shrugged. “On if you plan to give me another heart attack. Just as a tip, when one wing is pointing at the ground and the other is straight up, that’s bad.” “Come on,” Colin scoffed. “We weren’t that sideways.” “Let me show you something.” Ryan sat in the pilot seat and Colin sat beside him, leaning over to see what Ryan was pointing at. “This little gauge here, see the picture of the plane? See the wings and the flat white line?” “Okay, I see it,” Colin said. In the cramped cockpit, he had to practically lean on Ryan’s shoulder to see, but he found himself not exactly minding. “See how parts of the circle are red? If the wings tilt into the red part, that means you’re banking too hard and need to level out.” Ryan indicated the line between the white section and the red section, and Colin watched his hands for a moment before remembering he was supposed to be looking at the gauge. “So I got close to the red?” Colin asked. “No. Close would be still in the white part. You were up here.” Ryan pointed to the center of the red wedge, and gave Colin a stern look, but Colin didn’t quite believe it. Ryan’s eyes gave him away every time. “Oh. Sorry. Guess I need to keep an eye on that,” Colin said contritely, but Ryan only smiled. Colin got the feeling he wasn’t fooling anyone. “The plane could handle a barrel roll, actually. She’s very maneuverable.” “Really? So can we?” Ryan shuddered and buckled his seatbelt, starting the process of readying the plane for flight. “No. Just because the plane can handle it doesn’t mean I can. I’d like to keep my lunch, thank you.” Colin tried to look put out for a moment, but Ryan clearly wasn’t buying it so he just grinned and buckled his own seatbelt, watching intently as Ryan brought the engines online. When they reached the end of the runway and were ready to take off, Colin leaned over again, his chin brushing Ryan’s shoulder as he peered at the controls. “What’re you doing?” Ryan asked, but he looked amused rather than uncomfortable, so Colin stayed where he was. “Just watching. How else am I going to learn?” Ryan said nothing, but he opened the throttle and they shot forward, the whine of the props escalating to either side. This close, Colin could hear Ryan’s breathing pick up, becoming short and harsh. Inertia pressed him back against the pilot seat and their heads brushed together for a moment, Colin vaguely startled by the warm skin and a few stray hairs tickling his cheek. He took a deep breath, perhaps to counteract Ryan’s rapid, shallow respiration, and caught a whiff of something that made him think of rain after a long dry spell, earthy and clean. He watched until they leveled out and Ryan’s shoulder relaxed beneath his chin. Colin pulled back slowly, going through the now familiar ritual of medication and reaching for the water bottles before Ryan had even taken the pills from his pocket. He sat watching the clouds flow beneath them, waiting for Ryan to open his eyes. “So,” Ryan said after a while. Colin looked over at him and raised his eyebrows questioningly. “So?” “How was your show?” “Okay.” Colin shrugged and frowned down at his hands. “Not great, actually.” “Yeah? Did you totally freeze and stare blankly at everyone? Did you hide behind the counter? No, let me guess--you snapped and ran screaming into the audience, causing a stampede. You threw food at the other guests. You set the whole place on fire... what?” Colin flapped a hand at Ryan to make him stop and shook his head, laughing. “No, no... although that probably would have been more entertaining.” “Did you jump up on the counter and do a striptease? Because I’m sure that’d get good ratings,” Ryan said, nudging his shoulder into Colin’s. “No, that really would cause a stampede. Everyone would be trying to escape.” But Colin couldn’t stop smiling, despite the flush he could feel creeping all the way to the tips of his ears. “Well,” Ryan said, casting an appraising look at him. “Not everyone... okay, mostly everyone, but I’m sure there’d be a few holdouts.” “Oh, thanks,” Colin said wryly. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” Ryan shrugged, then twisted in his seat, stretching. “These things are really not made for the vertically gifted,” he muttered. Colin snorted, shaking his head. “Vertically gifted? Is that what you’re calling it?” “Sounds better than tall freak,” Ryan said, and his voice was flat, but his eyes were still dancing and Colin smiled. “Kind of like follicly impaired?” Ryan slid him a look from the corner of his eye and Colin could see his lips twitching as he struggled to keep a straight face. “Yeah,” he said. “Kinda like that.” “So, flight lesson?” “Um... not yet, okay? Give the meds a little time to work.” Ryan gave him a faintly embarrassed look, and Colin could see his leg jiggling again, knee bobbing rapidly up and down. “Sure,” Colin said easily. “I better eat my lunch before it gets cold anyway.” Ryan straightened, looking on with interest as Colin pulled a thermal pack from his travel bag. Jamie always made sure to book him rooms with full kitchens, in case he felt like making something, and the previous night he’d left the room long enough to get a few supplies and whip up one of his personal favorites. Colin was aware of Ryan’s eyes tracking him as he spread storage dishes out on the couch. He removed the small chemical heat pack from the inner pocket of the thermal bag and threw it away, then pulled a set of silverware wrapped with a rubber band from another pocket. When he looked up, Ryan was staring covetously at the food. Colin smiled and beckoned him over. “I’ve got plenty,” he said, patting the couch beside him. “But I should warn you, I did cook this myself. Eat at your own risk.” “I think I’ll chance it,” Ryan said as he sat down, opening one of the containers eagerly and sniffing it. “Oh, wow... what is this?” “It’s what made me famous,” Colin said with a half-sheepish shrug. “My chili rubbed chicken in garlic cream sauce. It’s even better as a leftover because the flavors have had a chance to really mingle together.” Ryan nodded enthusiastically, his mouth full of chicken. “S’good,” he mumbled. Colin realized he was beaming and looked down, busying himself with the mashed potatoes. The container lids doubled as plates and he dished some out for both of them, checking the temperature of the gravy to be sure it was still hot before drizzling some over the potatoes. He spooned glazed carrots on each plate and put the last container back in the thermal bag unopened. “What’s that?” Ryan asked, once he’d swallowed his mouthful. “Dessert. You only get some if you finish your vegetables.” Ryan grinned and speared a carrot slice, making a low purr in his throat as he tasted it. “Not a problem,” he said, licking his lips. Colin reminded himself that he really shouldn’t be staring. He dished the remains of the chicken and cut his own up before passing Ryan the knife. Beside him, Ryan was making a lot of distracting appreciative sounds, and every so often giving an odd little wriggle when he discovered a particularly tasty bit. “Hungry?” Colin asked, tilting his head to the side and smiling. “Starved. Didn’t eat breakfast. Never eat before a flight.” Ryan chased the last of his mashed potatoes and gravy up with some chicken and popped it in his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “And this is really good. No wonder you’re so popular.” Colin shrugged, but he was warmed by the genuine praise. They finished eating in silence, and Colin wound up giving half the food on his plate to Ryan because the other man kept casting forlorn looks at it. When they were done, Colin pulled out a pack of wet wipes and cleaned most of the food from the containers, Ryan pitching in to help once he saw what Colin was doing. The dishes were packed away, and Colin brought out the dessert, grinning when Ryan’s gaze followed it raptly. “You’re going to give me a swelled head,” he said, chuckling. “It can’t possibly be that good.” Ryan gave him an indecipherable look. “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll keep teaching you to fly if you teach me to cook like that.” Colin blinked, startled, and glanced around the plane. “Well, unless you’re hiding a kitchen under the couch...” “Oh, yeah, I guess that wouldn’t work.” Ryan shrugged and shook his head. “You’re probably really busy when you’re doing shows and stuff, and it’s not like you want to spend all your free time with... yeah. Never mind.” “Well... actually, I could,” Colin said. “The shows don’t take all day, you know. Mostly I’m just hanging out in my hotel room, waiting for the next spot to come up. What... what do you do when you’re not flying?” Ryan looked up, his face brightening. “Pretty much the same thing. Waiting. You really wouldn’t mind? I mean, you probably get sick of cooking all the time.” “What I do on the shows isn’t cooking. For one thing, most of the time no one eats the food. They give out a few samples, but usually the timing is off and things have to be made in advance or they don’t get done during the show, only started, and it’s not about cooking, anyway. It’s about selling.” Colin heard the bitter edge to his own voice and caught himself, taking a deep breath. “I just... I guess I miss being able to take my time and make something really good. Usually when I do that, I’m the only one who eats any of it.” “Oh.” Ryan was quiet for a moment, and then he leaned over, one hand squeezing Colin’s shoulder. “Well, if you ever need someone to come eat your food, I’ll be the first one in line.” “I’ll remember that,” Colin replied, smiling. He opened the dessert container, laughing softly at the way Ryan leaned in to inhale the sweet scent of fresh blackberry cobbler. He’d been delighted to find the ripe blackberries this late in the season, and while he didn’t usually cook desserts, he hadn’t been able to pass them up. The rapturous look on Ryan’s face made him glad he’d taken the extra time. “Oh, mmm,” Ryan half-moaned around a mouthful of cobbler. “If I keep flying you, I’m gonna get fat.” “I doubt that,” Colin said, eying the other man’s slender frame. He found himself briefly picturing Ryan as a teenager, all knees and elbows, gangly and awkward. He’d grown into his body well, though, and looked comfortable within his own skin, a trick that Colin had yet to master. “So, uh,” Ryan began after they’d polished off the last crumbs of cobbler. “You mean it? About the lessons, I mean.” “Sure,” Colin said, nodding. “It’ll be fun. Beats sitting around in the room and watching basic cable.” “Pretty much anything would beat that,” Ryan said, but he was smiling. “So I should, um...” He looked down and tugged nervously at the couch cushion, and Colin realized with something like fondness that he was actually a bit shy. “I’ll give you my cell number, and we’ll figure something out. Jamie can send you a car if you want.” “That’s okay,” Ryan said hastily. “Really. I’d feel weird using one of your... you know, big star cars.” Colin laughed and gave Ryan a light shove, shaking his head. “Big star cars?” “You know what I mean.” Ryan was trying to scowl, but couldn’t quite pull it off. “I’m not really a big star,” Colin told him. “And I’d be perfectly happy driving myself, but Jamie says it has to do with image. Important people don’t drive themselves places. They have people to do that for them. Apparently, I’m supposed to look important.” “Poor you,” Ryan said dryly. “It’s not like someone dropped this job in my lap, you know,” Colin said, not quite defensively. “I did have to do my share of the crap work to get here, and I could be out just as fast, one or two big screw-ups on stage and I’m done. It’s not a forgiving business.” “Okay, I didn’t mean... sorry.” Ryan offered him an apologetic smile. “I guess you make it look easier than it is.” “Well...” Colin shrugged and shifted, allowing their shoulders to brush together. “That’s the idea, I suppose. Personally, I’d rather have your job. Going wherever you want, being your own boss, getting to fly all the time...” He shot Ryan a speculative look. “Or is that harder than it seems, too?” “Would be easier if I didn’t hate flying so much,” Ryan said, ducking his head. “Not the best career choice, huh?” “You seem to be doing all right with it.” Ryan said nothing for a moment, and then he nodded. “Guess so. Hey, I’ve got to get on the radio, check in and make sure my flight plan is still good.” He went to the cockpit and leaned over, one hand braced against the pilot seat as he fastened his radio earpiece and began speaking quietly into it. Colin watched the long lines of Ryan’s back, idly biting a thumbnail as he thought. The first time he’d asked why Ryan had become a pilot, the other man had changed the subject and withdrawn, but they’d only just met then. Now it almost seemed like Ryan was inviting the question. And Colin had to admit, he was curious, but Ryan was quickly becoming a good friend and he didn’t want to screw that up by prying into things that were none of his business. “Hey,” Ryan said, looking over his shoulder. Colin quickly switched his gaze to Ryan’s face. “Yeah?” “We’re good, should be there in about three hours. Did you want to learn about pitch and yaw?” “Isn’t that for oxen?” Colin asked, grinning and sliding into the co-pilot seat. Ryan looked baffled for a moment, and then he seemed to curl with laughter, shaking his head, his shoulders hitching. Colin watched, absurdly pleased at being able to crack Ryan up. “You’re very weird sometimes,” Ryan said, still laughing softly. “Thank you, I try.” Colin reached for the yoke, but Ryan caught his wrists with a startlingly quick grab, freezing his hands inches above the controls. “First thing we learn,” Ryan said, “is that a little goes a long way. No sudden moves.” “Right,” Colin said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as squeaky to Ryan as it suddenly sounded to him. Ryan was leaning far into his space, his hands wide and strong, wrapped around his wrists, and Colin had the sudden impulse to test the grip, to see which of them was stronger. He had the sneaking suspicion that it would be Ryan, and the even more worrisome thought that he hoped it was. “Right,” Ryan echoed, and let him go. “Ready?” Colin felt a slow smile spread across his face. “Yeah. I think I am.” ~~~ The first day of Detroit shows was actually fun at times, mostly because of the chance to work with a few other presenters. While they didn’t perform together, exactly, there was more than one show happening at once, and those attending the conference split their attention between the various displays. Colin didn’t feel as if all the pressure was on him, and it was a relief to not be the complete focus. It was also interesting to see how other people did the same job, and Colin noticed that most of them had a great deal more flash in terms of fancy knife work, rapid movement, and presentation. He tended to rely more on his ability to charm an audience and endear himself to them, although his food came out tasting just as good as those with showier technique. Jamie was a hummingbird, flitting from display to display, watching over his other “talents” and smoothing out any wrinkles in the process. Colin felt tired just watching him; he liked to concentrate on one thing at a time, rather than multitask wildly the way Jamie did, and it was dizzying being in the same room with the man. The crowd was friendly and enthusiastic and because the whole thing was orchestrated by Kitchen Tech, all his equipment was top rate and the food supplies specific to his personal recipes. The job was relatively easy, except for the part where his audience kept changing as people wandered off and more arrived, so his trademark running gags were lost on a lot of people who hadn’t been around long enough to appreciate them. There were breaks during the day, and a chance to walk around and see the other shows, but for the most part it was fast, intense work and by late afternoon he was ready to flop on the nearest horizontal surface and sleep for two days straight. “How’re you doing?” Jamie asked, approaching as Colin was hoping to slip from the conference center unnoticed. “Fine,” Colin said. “Just finished my last show.” “Yes, mmm-hmm, I saw that,” Jamie agreed, falling into step beside him. “You were great today buddy, I loved the bit with that flambé, where you pretended like you were going to set fire to the tablecloth. That was a hit, where’d you come up with it? And your numbers are looking fantastic, already we’re seeing a lot of action on the juicer, you must’ve done some amazing stuff with it. I mean, it’s a juicer, how exciting can that be? You’re fabulous, really you are. You know you’re my favorite talent, right? Don’t I always look out for you first? Sure I do. Anyway, I got that hotel I told you about all worked out, a nice suite, you should be comfortable there. You headed to the room now? Do you need a ride? I could find you a ride.” “The hotel is two blocks away,” Colin said, biting back a smile. “I think I can make it.” Jamie came to a dead stop and turned, staring at him. “You’re going to walk?” “Shocking, I know,” Colin replied dryly. “Most people actually do get around that way. It’s why we have legs.” “But... half the audience is still leaving, they’re all over. You’ll be mobbed.” “I doubt that.” Colin sighed and patted Jamie’s shoulder. “Come on, it’s not like I’m a rock star. I’ll wear my ball cap and walk right past everyone and they’ll never notice.” “But they might,” Jamie protested. “They might see you, and how does that look, the big star walking to his hotel? Come on, let me get a car for you. It won’t take long at all, and you can go out the front, wave to a few people, it’ll be much better presentation. Please, Colin? Humor me on this one?” Colin opened his mouth, ready to acquiesce as he always did, and then shut it again, shaking his head. “You know what? No. Not this time. I’m tired and I’m done with ‘presentation’ for today. I’m walking.” Jamie blinked, pulling back slightly, and Colin was amused to see his manager speechless for probably the first time ever. “Well,” Jamie said after a long moment. “I guess... if you feel so strongly about it, of course. And you must be tired, I know the schedule has been crazy lately, maybe I could arrange some time off after the conference? I’ll do that, buddy, you don’t worry about a thing. I’m on it.” He nodded sharply and sped off down the hallway, back toward the noise and bustle of the convention floor. “Huh,” Colin murmured to himself. He ambled toward the doors, suddenly feeling lighter. It was a bit surprising to find he could get his way so easily, and he supposed he’d never really pushed it before, for fear of being dropped in favor of someone younger, better looking, and more cooperative. But he really did have a certain amount of pull after all; his fan base was strong and he knew he was good at his job, flash or not. It was sunset outside, the brief warmth of the day rapidly bleeding away. There were a few conference goers milling around on the sidewalk, but Colin pulled his cap low, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and walked past without incident. Once he reached the corner, he slowed his pace and enjoyed the crisp evening air, looking up at the sky. He could see the beginnings of dusk, the western horizon a brilliant orange and gold while behind him the sky was fading to deep purples. He wondered what it would look like from the air, without all the buildings obscuring the sight. Maybe he’d get to find out next time he flew with Ryan. Or he could just ask; he was sure Ryan got to see that kind of thing all the time. It would be great, Colin thought, to have that kind of freedom. He turned into the hotel lobby with some regret, wishing he could stay out in the fresh air and relative quiet a bit longer. Jamie had checked him in already, and given Colin a key; he slipped a hand in his pocket and felt for it as he crossed to the elevators, head lowered again to avoid possible recognition. “Hey.” Colin stopped and looked up, smiling before he even saw Ryan. “Hey.” Then he paused, tilting his head curiously. “Why...?” Ryan shrugged. In his jeans and sweatshirt, he looked out of place and uncomfortable in the richly appointed lobby. He shifted his weight back and forth, and his smile was nervous, tentative. “Weren’t we going to do the cooking thing tonight?” Colin looked at him blankly for a moment, and then nodded. “Oh, right! I’m sorry, I completely forgot. It’s been a really long day, and I had this... well, not argument, exactly, but this thing with Jamie and I guess I was distracted...” He trailed off, waving one hand vaguely. “That’s okay,” Ryan said. “No biggie, you’ve got to be beat after doing those shows all day. From what I could tell, you barely got to sit down.” “You were there?” “Um.” Ryan shuffled his feet a little. “I hung around a little, yeah. Beats sitting in the hotel room, right?” “Right,” Colin said, smiling knowingly. “What did you think?” “Wasn’t bad. I liked those cherry things you made.” “They’re easy enough to do.” Colin stepped close to Ryan and tugged at his elbow, drawing him toward the elevators. “Come on, I’ll show you.” “Really?” Ryan grinned and hurried to walk beside him, their shoulders brushing together easily with each step. “You even have food in your room?” “Well, no,” Colin admitted. “It’ll have to be theoretical.” “Hmm,” Ryan said, affecting a sad look. “And here I was hoping for a free dinner.” “Now the truth comes out,” Colin replied as they got into the elevator. “I should have known you were only using me for my cooking.” “It’s part of my master plan,” Ryan agreed. “I figure I can steal all your recipes and sort of sneak into your job. It’ll give me something to do after you’ve knocked me out and taken my plane.” “I’m not sure I’m getting the good end of this deal,” Colin said, frowning. “But I do get to knock you out... do you have a preference? Taser? Sneak you a few drugs? Maybe a Vulcan nerve pinch?” Ryan snorted and leaned against the wall as Colin opened the room door. “You seem to have put a lot of thought into this.” Colin flashed him an enigmatic look and said nothing. Ryan was still chuckling as he trailed Colin into the room, and then he stopped, freezing two steps in. “Nice,” he said, slowly turning to take in the whole view. “Definitely better than the place I’m staying.” Unsure of what to say, Colin just shrugged and let Ryan look. It was a nice room, he supposed, although he’d stayed in better places. There was a living area, with two wine red plush couches and a large TV set, a long cherry wood desk with pale lamps at either end and a big leather desk chair. The kitchen gleamed with stainless steel, the floor golden polished oak, the counters dark brown stone. A door led off to the bedroom, where two queen beds sat side by side, layered in pristine white bedding and at least five pillows each. The carpet was an ordinary tan, but thick enough to make him want to take his shoes off and sink his toes in. It was what he was used to, but seeing Ryan look around, mouth slightly open, it occurred to Colin that somewhere along the line he’d become a rich man. He appreciated the niceties, of course, being able to outfit his kitchen at home with the best equipment, to own his house free and clear, but they were only things. Pretty things, but mostly meaningless. Colin thought he’d like to show Ryan his home sometime, to share all the accumulated stuff and give it some purpose. “So,” Colin said, catching Ryan’s attention again. “Sorry I can’t offer home cooking, but would you like takeout?” Ryan grinned. “You read my mind. How about Italian?” “Perfect.” Colin found the phone book and skimmed the restaurant section until he found a likely looking place. He was aware of Ryan poking around a little while he ordered, opening cupboards in the kitchen and running his fingertips along the smooth finish of the desk, relishing the sleek texture. “Now I definitely need to steal your job,” Ryan said once Colin was off the phone. “If it gets rooms like this. I think I’m in the local Econolodge.” Colin shifted, a bit uncomfortable with the edge of envy in Ryan’s voice. “Yeah, well...” He shrugged. “I’m usually too tired to enjoy it. It’s just a place to sleep.” “So let’s do some theory,” Ryan said brightly, and even if it was a transparent effort to ease the tension, it worked anyway. “There’s a bunch of dishes and stuff in the kitchen, so I guess we can sort of pretend we have food.” “Nah,” Colin said, waving a hand. “We don’t need props.” He crossed the room and headed for the bedroom, gesturing for Ryan to follow. “Let’s see if I have a balcony.” “Okay...” Ryan looked puzzled but followed readily enough, stepping out onto the small balcony and watching as Colin sank into one of the chairs and slipped his shoes off. Colin took a deep breath, leaned back in the chair, and propped his socked feet up on the railing. “Okay, that’s better. Come on, have a seat. Relax.” Ryan did as he asked, and soon they were sitting quietly, looking out at the sea of lights below and the rapidly darkening sky above, the horizon a blurred line between them. Colin was aware of the faint sounds of traffic drifting up from the street, but they were distant and detached, from another world. He could also hear Ryan’s steady breathing beside him and thought, if he concentrated very hard, he’d feel the warmth coming from the other man, rising off his skin in waves. “The first thing,” Colin said after a while, “is to cook for yourself. Make what you like, not what the book says it should be and not what your mother always made. Don’t be afraid to experiment. And if it’s awful, remember what not to do next time.” “Have you ever made anything awful?” “All the time,” Colin replied, smiling ruefully. “I still have disasters where I have to throw everything out and open all the windows in the kitchen until the smell clears. But that’s how it is, you try and sometimes you screw up, but you just have to give it another shot.” “Hmm.” Ryan sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “Is this cooking or self-help?” “Don’t be a smartass,” Colin said, but he couldn’t quite pull off the tone of reprimand. “Sorry, can’t help it,” Ryan said, not sounding sorry at all. “It’s genetic, I think. If I ever have kids, I shudder to think what they’ll be like.” “I don’t know about the genetic thing. I’m pretty much the black sheep in my family. My brother and sister both have ‘real’ jobs... according to our parents, anyway.” Colin caught his eyes sleepily drifting shut and drew a quick breath of the cool night air, trying to wake himself up. “We’re all pilots,” Ryan said quietly. “It’s kind of a requirement when you’re a Stiles. Pilot or nothing.” “Oh.” Colin looked at Ryan, but the other man was staring off into space, eyes glittering faintly in the twilight. “So that’s why...” “Yeah.” Ryan shifted in his seat, lacing his hands together in the lap and tugging them apart again, a fretful motion. “I wasn’t always, actually. I learned about five years ago, after my sister died.” Colin opened his mouth, then shut it again, not sure what to say. “She was Sarabeth, wasn’t she?” he guessed, almost certain he was right. Ryan darted him a quick, unreadable look before returning his gaze to the distant skyscrapers. “Yeah. And she loved to fly. That’s her plane, actually.” “How...?” “Now how you’d think,” Ryan said, obviously understanding the question. “I mean, it’d make sense, in a soap opera way, if she’d died in a plane crash. Then I’d have a reason to hate flying and do it anyway, kind of a tribute thing, right?” He shook his head. “It was leukemia. She was the baby of the family, only twenty-six. And I’ve been afraid of flying for my whole life, but I do it now because...” He trailed off and Colin could see him biting his lip. He leaned a little closer, letting one hand rest on Ryan’s forearm, and the other man smiled at him, quick and liquid. “I can’t really explain it,” he said. “It’s... complicated, I guess.” “It’s all right,” Colin told him. Ryan nodded and said nothing, but he covered Colin’s hand on his arm with his own palm, warm and heavy in the chill air. “Um,” Ryan said, when his breathing had steadied a bit. “I think we got off track a little, huh? Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to...” “It’s fine,” Colin said briskly, giving Ryan’s wrist a squeeze before pulling his hand back. “I don’t think my lesson was making much sense anyway. I guess it’s hard to teach theoretical cooking.” Ryan laughed a little, then shivered, hunching his shoulders. “Maybe we should go inside.” “Sure.” Colin went straight to the kitchen and busied himself, laying out dishes and silverware for when the food arrived, aware of Ryan looking out the window and taking deep, careful breaths. He fiddled with things until Ryan came to stand by him, bumping into his side not quite accidentally. “So,” Ryan said, clearing his throat. He looked composed, but Colin caught the tension around his eyes, the slight flush to his cheeks. “So.” Colin looked up at him through his eyelashes and tried for his best sweet smile, because it always seemed to put people at ease. Ryan’s eyes flicked over his face, and he lifted one eyebrow. “You’ve got dimples,” he said. Colin immediately dropped the smile. “If you tell me I’m cute, I will have to kill you.” “Cute isn’t nearly enough. I was thinking along the lines of adorable. Maybe even precious.” “Okay, that’s it,” Colin started, but Ryan was already darting away, slipping around the side of the couch and hiding behind it, his eyes sparkling with laughter. “Can’t catch me,” he taunted, sing-song, and it was ridiculous, they were both over forty and Colin was tired and the whole thing was foolish and they’d known each other for barely a week and Colin chased him anyway, whooping like a kid. Ryan kept the couch between them until Colin gave up on going around and just climbed over, shoving the cushions out of place and landing on both feet with a solid thump. Ryan wrapped one hand around the door frame and used it to slingshot into the bedroom, jumping up on one of the beds. Colin leaped after him, landing full length on the mattress with his arms locked around Ryan’s shins. Ryan tried to pull away and lost his balance, nearly taking a header onto the floor, but Colin yanked as hard as he could and Ryan wound up sprawled half on the bed and half off, teetering precariously. There was a brief scramble and when Colin opened his eyes again, he was tangled in a pile of pillows and limbs, Ryan’s arm around his chest and a bit of blanket trying to poke into his mouth. Colin twisted and managed to turn onto his back, but Ryan refused to give up so easily and held him there, neatly pinned, every bit as strong as Colin thought he’d be. “Gotcha,” Ryan gloated, out of breath and grinning madly. Colin blinked up at him and found nothing to say, his mind spinning and getting nowhere. Ryan was bright with energy, hair mussed and face flushed, panting for breath. One hand on Colin’s shoulder, pressing him into the mattress, another pinning his wrist over his head. A knee between his thighs until Ryan seemed to realize it and pulled back, smiling nervously. “Um,” he said, letting Colin and perching on the edge of the bed. “I, uh...” “It’s okay,” Colin began, propping himself up on his elbows. He could still feel his heart thumping, blood rushing everywhere in his body and filling him with sparking heat. “It was fun.” Ryan’s mouth curled into a half-smile. “Yeah, it was. Hey, do you think...” But he didn’t get to finish his question, because there was a knock at the door and he jumped up, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll get it,” he said quickly. “It’s the food,” Colin replied, getting to his feet. “And I’m getting it. I did promise you a meal, after all.” He beat Ryan to the front door and accepted the warm, aromatic containers, digging for his wallet in his pants. Ryan took the food and began laying it out on the table, opening everything and beginning to dish it up. Once he’d paid the deliveryman, Colin joined him, digging in eagerly. He found it ironic that he’d worked at a food and cooking convention all day and barely had anything to eat. Between the performance nerves and the demanding schedule, he hadn’t had the time or the inclination to have more than the few bites necessary to taste the recipes. Colin gave Ryan an impromptu lesson on their meal, from the garlic bread (fresh baked, and the crust should be chewy, not hard or crisp) to the lasagna (important to have the right balance of ingredients and go easy on the seasonings, especially garlic, so no one flavor overpowers all the others) and even the dessert, which was tiramisu. “The mascarpone cheese is a change from the traditional recipe,” Colin said, waving his spoon for emphasis, “which called for custard. It’s a triple crème cheese that’s actually made from the milk of cows fed special grasses mixed with herbs and flowers. Gives the cheese a unique, delicate taste.” “Mmm,” Ryan said, taking another bite of the confection. “Fantastic. Does it have alcohol in it?” “A little, yes. Tastes like they used rum, which is fine, but I tend to prefer brandy with this. There’s also a bit of espresso on the ladyfingers; not soaked, you understand, just enough to give it the right touch. This is actually quite well done; I’ll have to remember that restaurant. It’s an easy recipe to screw up.” “I don’t know how you keep track of all that stuff,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “It’s like rocket science.” “More like chemistry,” Colin said lightly, but he was watching Ryan and felt sure the other man understood more than he let on. He didn’t know why Ryan wanted to act as if this was over his head, but Colin was willing to go along with it until he knew more. Colin had ordered a bottle of wine with the food and they shared it, moving to the couch and sipping slowly once the meal was over. Colin felt full and sleepy and peaceful, Ryan’s voice a calming rhythm, a steady presence at his side. He didn’t realize he’d nodded off until he roused and found Ryan watching him, a faint smile playing around his mouth. “Did I fall asleep?” Colin asked, embarrassed. “A little bit.” Ryan was trying to suppress a grin without much success. “I don’t mind, really. I’m half asleep myself.” “Mmm.” Colin rubbed his eyes and glanced toward the bedroom. “It’s getting late.” Ryan took the hint and stood, offering Colin a hand up. “Yeah, we should both get some sleep. Although I’ve got to admit, it’s kind of a let down going back to my hotel from here.” He laughed when he said it, but his eyes were serious, and Colin made a decision with barely a second’s thought. “Stay here,” he said. Ryan’s eyes widened and his hand tightened hard around Colin’s for a moment before letting go. “You... are you sure?” “Yeah,” Colin said, and he was. “There’s an extra bed, after all, and I really wouldn’t mind. Besides, you’re going to the conference again tomorrow, right?” Ryan nodded, so Colin continued, “Then it would be silly going all the way back to your hotel just to sleep, then coming back here in the morning. Save time. Stay.” “Okay,” Ryan said slowly. “Sounds good.” And he followed Colin into the bedroom. ~~~ Colin woke once during the night and he sat up in bed, blinking his way through the inevitable disorientation of yet another unfamiliar hotel room. Diffuse light from the city came through the glass balcony doors, casting an orange glow across the room and creating pockets of shadow around the sleeping form on the next bed over. Colin tilted his head to the side, still more asleep than awake, and studied Ryan for a long moment. He sprawled in his sleep, long legs slung to either side, one foot hanging off the edge of the mattress. He’d kicked off most of the covers and there was only a corner tugged across his midsection, leaving his shoulders bare and his bony knees poking out. The dim light favored his face, giving the impression of clean, simple features, classic and honest in a way that Colin had missed, working with the artificial beauty of show business. Ryan breathed steadily, counterpoint to the low hum of the heater and the distant but never quite gone sounds of traffic below. Colin watched until his eyes grew heavy again and he lay back down, turning on his side to face Ryan. It was strangely reassuring to have another person in the room. Ryan was like an anchor, giving him a sense of identity in the anonymous place where hundreds of other people had slept. He’d be forgotten as soon as he left, the room reset for the next guest, but for now there was someone who knew who he was, right there with him. Ryan’s breathing was hypnotic, and Colin drifted back into sleep counting each breath and timing his own to match. In the morning, he woke to find himself facing an empty bed, the covers rumpled in a way that made him want to climb in and see if they were still warm. Colin sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched, rubbing his eyes sleepily. The bedside clock said it was just after eight, which meant he had plenty of time to make it to his first show at ten. He padded into the kitchen for a drink of water and found Ryan sitting at the table, nibbling leftover Italian food, wearing one of the thick white hotel robes. His hair was damp and uncombed, a few pieces falling artlessly over his forehead, and his face had a dark shadow of stubble, making his jaw line stand out. “Hey,” Ryan said, waving a piece of garlic bread at him. Colin smiled and got his water, joining Ryan at the table. “Good morning.” Ryan nodded, leaning back in his chair. “Did you know that bathroom has a Jacuzzi? You could have a party in there.” “Oh?” Colin quirked one eyebrow and slid a finger down his water glass, gathering condensation. “What did you have in mind?” Ryan blinked at him, clearly flustered, and Colin chuckled. Ryan’s eyes narrowed, but he was smiling. “I suppose that would depend on whether I get a fancy dinner tonight. I don’t give it away for take out, you know.” “Is that so?” Colin gave him a sweeping, speculative look, then met his eyes. Ryan kept a straight face for about five seconds and then gave up, shaking his head and laughing. “You had me going for a minute there,” Ryan said. Colin grinned. “I know.” Ryan threw a bit of bread crust at him and Colin ducked, then placed a threatening hand on his water glass. “Don’t make me break out the big guns.” “Okay, okay, I give,” Ryan said, holding his hands up. “Besides, don’t we have to get going? You have more shows today, right?” “Yeah,” Colin agreed reluctantly. “Guess I better get ready.” He shuffled off to the bathroom to shower, trying to quiet the nervous flutter kicking up in his stomach. It was always like this before a show, his throat tightening and his hands picking up the slightest tremor. These all day events really took it out of him and he found himself hoping Ryan would agree to come back to the hotel with him afterward. It was so much easier to relax when he had someone to laugh and play around with. Colin was just belting his own robe after his shower when he heard a knock at the door. He came out of the bathroom in time to see Ryan opening the door, and Jamie standing on the other side holding a dry cleaning bag. “Um,” Ryan said uncomfortably. “Hi, uh... Colin’s here, he’s...” “Right here,” Colin said, walking over. “Are those my clothes for today?” Jamie looked at him, and then at Ryan, his face carefully neutral. “Yes,” he said, handing over the bag. He edged past Ryan, glancing around the room, his gaze lingering on the empty wine bottle on the counter and the dirty dishes in the sink. He turned to Colin with an inquisitive expression. Colin pretended not to see it. “I’ll get dressed,” he said, ducking into the bedroom. He put the clothes on quickly, hoping Jamie wasn’t grilling Ryan out there. He couldn’t hear any talking, but he knew Jamie must have a million questions, since it was obvious Ryan had spent the night. Colin shook his head, laughing softly to himself. Jamie had probably leapt to the obvious and wrong conclusion, given what he knew about Colin. Although Colin never dated while on tour, he had seen men before; in his line of work it was accepted, nearly commonplace. When Colin came back out into the living area, Ryan was perched on the edge of the couch, fidgeting with his hands. Jamie was still standing just inside the door, although he’d shut it behind him. He was carefully not looking at Ryan. “You’re kind of early, aren’t you?” Colin asked, moving to sit beside Ryan. Ryan flashed him a grateful smile, then ducked his head again. “Schedule change,” Jamie said briskly, crossing to the other couch and sitting down. “There was a problem getting the ducks in on time for the rotisserie spot, so it got pushed back and we needed something else to put in the first morning slot and everyone else was already taken so I’ll need you to come in an hour early. Your shows are the same, just all bumped by one hour; you’ll be done early this afternoon too. I’ve already got the supply changes worked out and the schedule on the main conference board has been updated so the crowd knows what’s going on. There’s a car downstairs waiting for us when you’re ready.” Colin nodded, sighing. He’d hoped for a bit more time in the morning, but he supposed it was best to get it over with. Besides, now he’d have more time after his shows to pick up some food and give Ryan a real lesson. The thought cheered him and he straightened, clapping Ryan on the back. “You better get dressed,” he said. Ryan muttered assent and went to the bedroom, shutting the door. Colin was left looking blandly at Jamie, daring him to ask. Jamie opened his mouth, but shut it again, tapping his fingers rapidly on his thighs. “Is that a good idea?” he asked after a long moment. “Is what?” Colin replied, blinking innocently. “He’s technically a company employee. You could even be considered his boss, and under those circumstances... it just doesn’t look good.” “You worry a lot about what looks good,” Colin pointed out, not adding that he was sick of it. “That’s my job. Colin, please, if you want some company I’m sure you can find someone who doesn’t work for KT. I know you don’t like all the fuss about your image, but it really is important, it matters and I would really, really appreciate it if you could bend a little on this one, please?” Jamie was nearly wringing his hands, leaning forward on the couch, eyes wide. Colin sighed, wanting to be irritated but not quite able to resist such an earnest entreaty. “It’s not like that,” he said. “Ryan came over last night for a cooking lesson, of all things. It’s kind of a deal we have... never mind. He’s a friend, that’s all, Jamie. Really. Please don’t worry.” Jamie nodded slowly, settling back on the couch. “And he stayed over because...?” “Because it was late and we were both tired and it was just simpler. Separate beds, if that makes you feel better,” Colin added. “It does,” Jamie replied. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to tell you what you can and can’t do with your free time but... a little discretion, that’s all I’m asking.” The bedroom door opened before Colin could reply and Ryan walked out. He’d shaved, but he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, which made sense, Colin supposed. He had an odd expression on his face, his eyes flicking over Colin before looking away, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. Colin wondered uneasily how much he’d heard. “Okay,” Jamie said, bouncing to his feet. “Let’s get going, we have lots to do.” He paused and gave Ryan a nervous smile. “I hope you don’t mind making your own way to the convention center.” “It’s fine,” Ryan said, at the same time as Colin protested. “Come on, Jamie, that’s just silly. We’re all going to the same place.” “And when we get there, you’ll be getting out of the car and going in the front, greeting people all the way in. If he’s in the car with you, they’re going to want to know who he is and why he’s there and it’ll just create problems. You know that, Colin,” he said, crossing his arms, and Colin knew he wasn’t winning this one without a fight. “But--” “It’s really okay,” Ryan interrupted, moving to Colin’s side. “Really. Please don’t make a big deal of it; I don’t want to cause any trouble. It’s only a couple blocks.” Jamie was still giving him a pleading look, but it was the uneasy, embarrassed way Ryan hunched his shoulders that made Colin give in. “Okay,” he sighed, frowning. “If you’d feel more comfortable that way, then it’s fine with me.” “Great, thank you, you’re the best,” Jamie said rapidly. “But now we really have to go or we’re going to be late and that’ll throw the whole day off kilter.” He tugged Colin out the door and Ryan trailed along after them. Jamie chattered all the way to the car, but Colin tuned him out, watching Ryan walk down the street as they pulled away from the curb. He turned to keep Ryan in sight as the car passed him, and saw Ryan wave just before they turned the corner. Colin lifted a hand in return, knowing Ryan couldn’t see him. Colin huddled in the back seat, Jamie beside him, still giving him tips on the upcoming shows. He nodded in the right places and wrapped his arms around his middle, trying to quash the growing tension there. They arrived all too quickly and Colin emerged to cheers and outstretched hands, wanting a piece of him. He smiled and waved and wished Ryan was still at his side. ~~~ Colin didn’t see Ryan again until halfway through his second show, when he was just starting to really get into the presentation, the ripples of laughter through the crowd gaining momentum and feeding his own flagging energy. Ryan appeared at the back and slowly threaded his way forward, easily visible because of his greater height. When he got to the front, Colin saw that he must have gone back to his hotel because he was wearing different clothes. Ryan grinned, and Colin tipped his knife at him, nodding. He looked at the equipment on his counter, then back at Ryan, and had an idea. “Okay,” he said, spearing a tomato on the end of his knife and flipping it to his other hand. He jumped when it landed neatly in his palm, blade down, the tomato protecting him from being cut, and gave a sheepish grin to the audience, affecting a relieved sigh. They laughed, and he could see Ryan smiling slyly. “For my next trick,” he said, waiting through a few more chuckles, “I’ll need a volunteer.” Ryan understood immediately, his eyes widening. Colin pretended to scan the crowd as several of them waved their hands and tried to catch his attention. “You!” he said, “the tall guy. The one trying to hide.” More laughter, and hands nudging Ryan forward as he made a show of reluctance, casting nervous looks at the array of sharp, gleaming knives. Colin held up his chopping knife and Ryan froze, his fearful expression betrayed by his sparkling eyes. “Is this worrying you?” Colin asked, and Ryan nodded rapidly, drawing more laughs from the crowd. “Here, I’ll just put it down...” Colin gripped the knife by the tip and tossed it expertly at the cutting board, where it stuck, handle quivering visibly. Ryan swallowed and made another mock escape attempt, but allowed himself to be pushed toward the stage. “All right,” Colin said once Ryan was standing beside him. “When I say anyone can use these knives like a pro, I mean anyone. Even him.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Ryan, and grinned when Ryan poked him in the side, hidden behind the counter. “Here you are.” Colin handed the small paring knife to Ryan, who held it between thumb and forefinger if it was a dead rodent. It looked like a toy in his huge hand, and he turned toward the audience, acting befuddled. “You’re a natural,” Colin muttered, barely audible under their laughter. “Now... no, don’t hold it like that,” he said, correcting Ryan’s grip. Ryan let him, then immediately returned to his previous grip once Colin’s back was turned. He held it properly the moment Colin faced him again, giving him a shifty-eyed guilty look. Colin narrowed his eyes suspiciously and handed Ryan a carrot, smacking it into his chest. Ryan looked down at it, then up at Colin, and raised one eyebrow. “What do you want me to do with it?” he asked, and Colin could hear the teasing, the invitation to carry the joke further. It wasn’t a game Colin would usually play with a guy he’d met less than a week ago, but things were different on stage. He could get away with things, pass them off as jokes; there was room to be daring. “What do you think?” Colin replied, drawing one corner of his mouth up in a suggestive smile. “I’m really not that kinky,” Ryan said, and there were several shrieks from the audience. Colin closed his eyes for a long moment, rubbing his forehead. “Never, ever make me picture that again,” he growled, and Ryan grinned widely, wiggling his eyebrows. “And you’re supposed to slice the carrot.” Ryan nodded and placed the carrot on the cutting board, then very carefully and slowly cut an eighth-inch sliver from one end. “There!” he said, holding the tiny bit of carrot on the tip of his finger. “Done. Now what?” Colin clapped a hand over his face and shook his head. “Never mind,” he muttered, inwardly elated at how easy this was. The crowd was laughing and cheering and it came naturally, just like kidding around with Ryan on a flight. “Here,” Ryan said, and held the knife up as if he was going to throw it to Colin. “No, no!” Colin held his hands up, shielding himself. “You can keep it. Really.” “Hey, all right,” Ryan said, grinning at the audience. “Free knife.” He looked around and spotted the juicer sitting to one side. Picking it up, he hefted it in one hand and cocked his arm, aiming at Colin. “How about this? You want this?” “Give me that,” Colin huffed, snatching it out of his hands. “Thank you, you’ve been great, come back next week.” “But isn’t the conference over next week?” Ryan asked as Colin pushed him to the edge of the stage. “Exactly,” Colin muttered darkly, drawing more laughs. Ryan stumbled into the crowd and held his knife up proudly, and they cheered for him, several slapping him on the back. “When I say anyone can use these,” Colin said, “I mean anyone but him.” “I still got a free knife,” Ryan taunted, and Colin rolled his eyes. Ryan stayed near the stage for the rest of the show, occasionally sneaking a hand toward the counter as if he was going to steal something. Colin took to fending him off with a bread knife, stabbing the counter near his fingers more than once, raising an excited ‘oooooh’ from the audience every time. The presentation flew by, and after Colin had handed out samples and thanked the crowd, they dispersed, leaving Ryan lingering at the edge of the stage. “Here,” Ryan said, holding the knife out, handle first this time. “Thanks.” Colin slid it into the butcher’s block with the others, then walked around the back of the stage, ducking into a small alcove that was mostly used for storage. Ryan followed him, and they each sat on a crate. The air was pleasantly scented with the big bag of fresh oranges nearby, and there was a chilled bucket of prepared dough lending a touch of yeasty flour to the atmosphere. Ryan took a deep breath, smiling, and Colin watched him. “You surprised me,” Ryan said. “I didn’t know you did stuff like that, where you took volunteers.” “I don’t,” Colin replied. “But I thought... I just figured you could handle it.” “Hmm.” Ryan nodded, glancing out toward the corner of stage visible from the little room. “It was fun, actually. Kind of exciting. I can see why you like the job.” “Yeah, it has its moments. Of course, it’s a lot easier with someone to joke with, instead of just trying to do everything on my own. And I meant what I said earlier--you really are a natural. You ever done performance work before?” Ryan shrugged, shaking his head. “Not really. Nothing serious, just goofing around type stuff. I mean, I’m usually the cutup when the family gets together, and I like making people laugh, but it’s not like I have any formal training or anything.” “Well, you were great,” Colin said, elbowing him in the side. “We should do that again sometime.” “Yeah,” Ryan replied quietly. “I’d like that.” They sat for a few minutes in companionable silence, Colin enjoying the chance to relax between shows, Ryan’s presence a soothing influence. “Hey,” he said eventually, “sorry about this morning. Jamie showing up and, you know, everything.” “It’s okay.” Ryan waved dismissively. “I, uh... I kinda heard you guys talking, though.” “Oh,” Colin said, looking down at his hands. Here it was, then. “And?” “It was kind of funny, him thinking... you know. No wonder he had such a weird look on his face when I opened the door.” Colin chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, he tends to leap to conclusions sometimes.” “But you set him straight. Told him we were just friends.” There was something strange about Ryan’s voice and Colin turned, looking at him carefully. “Right. I mean... that is right, isn’t it? I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I thought with everything...” Colin trailed off, feeling his face beginning to heat up. “No, no, I didn’t... of course we’re friends,” Ryan said quickly. “I mean, that’s what I figured, it’s just some of the other stuff... there’s other stuff. That’s all.” “Other... stuff,” Colin repeated slowly. Ryan shifted his feet, scuffing them along the floor, avoiding Colin’s gaze. “I didn’t know,” he muttered. “That you... I mean, I got the impression from what Jamie said that you have company sometimes. Like, other guys type company.” “Ah, that.” Colin took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. “Well, yes. I do sometimes have... company. Like that. But I’m not trying to... I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, okay? I’m not assuming anything here. It’s just cooking lessons, right?” Ryan was quiet for a long moment, and then he lifted his head, giving Colin a steady, open look. “Right. I guess I just wanted to tell you it’s fine. I mean, I’m not going to be all weird about it or anything.” Colin smiled at the earnest words and leaned closer, letting their sides bump together. Ryan didn’t try to pull back and he looked completely at ease, which reassured Colin more than anything he’d said. “So, does that mean you want another lesson tonight? With actual food this time.” “Sure,” Ryan said. “What are we making?” “Ah, ah,” Colin scolded, shaking his finger at Ryan. “That would be telling. You’ll just have to be surprised.” Ryan smiled at him. “I like surprises.” ~~~ Colin finished off his day of presentation feeling exhilarated, rather than drained. Ryan had joined him for two more shows, once on stage in another volunteer bit, and once from the audience, in the form of teasing suggestions. Jamie noticed the second time, and started forward, a fixed expression of politeness on his face, intending to usher Ryan out before he could disrupt the show. Colin waved him off, and although Jamie lingered worriedly, he left after it was clear that Ryan was helping the show, not hindering it. Jamie caught up to Colin as he was washing up after his final presentation--a spot earlier in the day had involved pasta sauce and Ryan had spattered a bit on him “accidentally” as he waved a spoon around. Colin had frozen, sputtering, and Ryan had just stood and watched him, smiling smugly and licking a dab of sauce off the spoon. Ryan said something about how it was pretty good, but he wouldn’t recommend it as a fashion statement, and they’d moved along to more laughter. Still, his shirt would probably never recover, but Colin didn’t mind. It wasn’t really his shirt anyway, just the one that Jamie had decided on for the day. He tended to like warm, muted colors, not the bright flashy things Jamie chose, but he went along, because he always did. “Colin, buddy, you were great today,” Jamie began, and Colin sighed, focusing on getting the sauce out of his knuckles. He waited a beat, and there it was--“But,” Jamie continued, “what was going on with that... friend of yours? I thought you said he wasn’t giving you any problems.” “He’s not,” Colin replied evenly. He grabbed a towel and turned to face Jamie, leaning back against the sink. “We were just having some fun.” “He was interfering with your presentation.” Jamie folded his arms, his brow furrowed, and he seemed to search for words. “Look, I know it’s been a long tour. I know you’re under stress, which is why I offered to get you some time off after the conference, and why I didn’t mind you having your friend over. I’m willing to give you some leeway here, but bringing him up on stage? It’s... well, I hate to say this to you, but it’s unprofessional. And I’ve never known you to be that, Colin.” Colin looked down for a long moment, biting back his first reply. He didn’t often get angry, but he was beginning to realize that he’d resented Jamie’s control for a long time. “How were the numbers?” he asked pointedly. “Good, weren’t they? And didn’t we draw a crowd? Didn’t we keep them happy? Didn’t we sell, which is the whole point, isn’t it?” Jamie reached for him, as if to lay a hand on his arm, but withdrew when Colin leveled a warning look at him. “Colin... I don’t understand. Why is this upsetting you? I’m only trying to look out for your best interests.” “No,” Colin said tiredly, “you aren’t. You’re looking out for the company and you always have. Sure, you want me to look good, so I can make them look good. It’s all appearance, all salesmanship, all...” He trailed off, shaking his head. He couldn’t quite find the right words for his frustration with it, the flimsy façade, the constant focus on surface impressions, the mask he had to put on. He couldn’t even stay angry with Jamie, not when he knew he was just as much at fault. He’d let it happen, after all. Always going along, doing what everyone else wanted, and hadn’t he told Ryan to cook for himself first? Make what you like, not what everyone else thinks it should be. Apparently he’d forgotten to take his own advice. “Time off,” Jamie said. “That’ll make you feel better. I really, really need you to finish the conference, but after that, I promise. I’ll work something out, push your other spots back, we’ll get you some time. You’ll feel like yourself again.” Colin looked at him, at his worried smile and wide, hopeful eyes and sighed. Jamie meant well. He always did. On some level Colin understood that things needed to change, but the thought was scary; he’d worked so hard to get where he was and maybe he wasn’t always happy with it, maybe there were compromises, but to contemplate giving it up? What would he do, if he wasn’t doing this? He’d told Ryan he had no other skills and it was true, and he felt too old to start a whole new career. Maybe he’d waited too long. “Colin?” Jamie reached for him again, and this time Colin let him, allowing the weight of Jamie’s arm around his shoulders. “I’m going back to the hotel,” he said. “We can talk about this tomorrow if you want.” “There you go, that’s a good idea,” Jamie said, sounding relieved. “Get some rest, relax, have that pilot friend of yours over again if it makes you feel better. You really did do good today, and... well, okay, the thing with that guy was... it was unplanned. You know I like to have everything worked out ahead of time. You can’t just make stuff up like that, change things on the spur of the moment. But maybe, with advance notice, you two did do pretty well, and I have to admit the numbers were good. Maybe he can come back, but I want to know about it.” Colin laughed softly, because of course that’s what this was about. Jamie not wanting to lose control. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll let you know. But for now I need your help with something.” “Anything I can do, you know that. Don’t I always say so? Sure I do. What did you need, buddy?” “Supplies.” He still had a cooking lesson to give tonight, after all, and he didn’t have the time or the energy to get everything they’d need. Jamie had told him time after time that he only needed to ask if he wanted something, and Colin had decided it was time to take him up on that offer. So he rattled off a list and Jamie wrote it down industriously and promised to have everything to the room within the hour. Colin watched him bustle off and felt a little guilty, ordering him to run errands like that, but he told himself that it was Jamie’s job, after all. “Hey.” Colin smiled and turned, looking up at Ryan. “You found me.” Ryan nodded. “Yeah, you kind of disappeared after that last show.” “I had to wash off pasta sauce,” Colin said pointedly and Ryan grinned. “Oh yeah, that.” He tried to look sheepish and failed completely. “So, um... are we still doing a lesson tonight?” “Yeah, I’ve got some good ideas for that,” Colin said, heading for the exit. Ryan fell into step beside him, close in the narrow hallway, and Colin was tempted to lean over. Maybe Ryan would put an arm around his shoulders and he’d slip his own around Ryan’s waist and there would be warmth and strength all along his side, comforting after the difficult talk with Jamie and the questions it had raised for him. But Colin didn’t quite allow himself that; maybe because he didn’t want to scare Ryan off, and maybe because he didn’t trust himself to let go once they were on the busy street. So they walked back to the hotel in easy silence, arms brushing together every so often, and it had to be enough. ~~~ Colin flopped on the couch as soon as they were in the room and put his feet on the coffee table, one hand flung over his eyes. He heard Ryan moving around, opening cupboards, and he looked up when something cool and smooth pressed into his hand. Ryan held out a glass of water, ice cubes clinking inside, and Colin accepted it with a smile. “Thanks,” he said, taking a long swallow. “Sure.” Ryan sat next to him, putting his own feet up. Colin indulged himself, just a little, and allowed his shoulder to rest against Ryan, soaking up the warmth. Ryan either didn’t notice, or did a very good job of pretending not to. “Did I get you in trouble?” Ryan asked, and Colin was close enough to feel the low rumble of his voice. “Nah,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “Why, did you think you would?” Ryan shrugged. “Seemed like your... assistant, or whatever he is, he looked a little pissed with me. Plus he told me I should quit hanging around.” Colin straightened, his feet landing on the floor with a thump. “He did? When was that? Is that why you weren’t there for the last show?” “Yeah,” Ryan admitted, nodding. “Sorry, I wanted to be there, but he was saying a lot of stuff about it being disruptive and how they had a plan and I wasn’t on it and I needed to back off and let you work. I didn’t want to get you in trouble, and I didn’t want to lose my contract with your company either.” “He said that? He told you it would mean your job if you didn’t stop?” Colin could hear his voice rising, and Ryan looked a little alarmed, resting a placating hand on his shoulder. “No, nothing like that. He was nice about it, asked me politely to not screw things up, just in prettier words, you know. But I figured I better not rock the boat.” Ryan’s thumb was stroking his shoulder a little, seemingly without Ryan being aware of it, and Colin allowed himself to be calmed. “Well... he still shouldn’t have told you to stop. That’s just Jamie being a control freak, though, and please don’t worry about it. I’d raise hell if they tried to drop your contract because of this. Besides, Jamie cornered me after the shows and tried to give me the same lecture and I talked him around. There shouldn’t be a problem with you coming back on stage tomorrow.” Colin gave a little shrug, dipping his chin. “I mean, if you still want to. I thought it was fun.” “I thought so too,” Ryan said, and then stretched dramatically, allowing his arm to land over the back of the couch, just above Colin’s shoulders. It was the oldest trick in the book and Colin got the feeling Ryan knew it; coming from him, it was a joke, a tease to see who could keep a straight face the longest. “That’s what we should do.” Colin leaned back, letting his head rest against Ryan’s arm. All very casual and easy, but it felt like every move was deliberate, a precise step to a dance he wasn’t sure he remembered. “We should form our own company. We’ll take turns flying once I learn how, and we’ll put on shows together. We’ll travel the country being the cooking odd couple.” “Does that make me Felix?” Ryan asked, and his arm curled just enough for his fingertips to brush Colin’s opposite shoulder. Barely tangible warmth through the sleeve of his shirt and Colin had to focus on being still, on not pressing into the contact. “Was he the neat one?” Ryan nodded. “Yeah, Oscar was the slob, but he was also kind of a celebrity, so that’d be you.” “No, no, that doesn’t work at all. Besides, if we’re both on stage, we’re both celebrities. You’re definitely not the neat one.” Colin elbowed Ryan lightly in the side, then let his arm rest there, his hand partly on his leg and partly on Ryan’s. “That’s probably true,” Ryan said musingly. “I mean, you’re the one with a matching set of Tupperware and a little food bag that you carry everywhere. I was surprised you didn’t have linen napkins folded like a swan.” “I only bring those when I fly first class,” Colin replied loftily. “Excuse me? You are flying first class.” And Ryan’s voice held just the right note of indignation, but his hand curled a little more, the palm on Colin’s shoulder now, fingertips reaching to his collarbone and skating just above the collar of his shirt. Colin closed his eyes briefly, feeling the skin all the way down his back prickle into goose bumps. “Right,” he agreed, and found he had no sarcastic rejoinder to add. So he stayed quiet, spreading the fingers of his right hand just a little, testing the texture of Ryan’s jeans and the skin beneath. “Right,” Ryan echoed after a pause, both confused and pleased. He fell silent then and Colin allowed himself to daydream a little, his eyes half-lidded, breathing deep and steady. He’d been mostly joking about quitting and the two of them flying away together, doing a two man show, but it was a fun idea to play with, to imagine. Ryan was warm and solid at his side, and his long limbs felt loose to Colin, relaxed and natural. It was easy to sit like this and think of foolish, impossible things and imagine they could actually happen. Easy to be with Ryan. The pads of Ryan’s fingers were soft, smooth, barely moving along his shoulder and collar. It was almost enough to tickle, but not quite. The touch was warm, and the heat lingered, seeming to sink beneath the skin. Colin thought maybe this had started as a game, Ryan playing around with him, seeing who could keep up the pretense longer, but somewhere along the line it had changed. Now, if he were to turn his head suddenly and press a kiss to Ryan’s knuckles, he wasn’t sure if Ryan would draw back, laughing and conceding defeat, or if he’d trace Colin’s jaw with one hand and steer him close, and he’d be there, right there, eyes dark and intent and lips slightly parted and then he’d lift Colin’s chin to just the right angle and... Colin jerked when there was a knock on the door, and Ryan pulled his hand away quickly with a sharp indrawn breath. “I’ll get it,” Colin said, a little surprised at his own voice coming out so... debauched, he supposed. If anything could sound that way. Ryan nodded, looking down, and Colin could see him blushing, biting his bottom lip. Colin smiled as he went to the door, but it slipped away when he saw Jamie standing there, bags in hand. “Jamie,” he said evenly, and stepped aside to let him in. “I brought all those supplies you wanted,” Jamie said, setting the bags on the kitchen counter. He turned back to look at Colin and caught him watching Ryan, who was still sitting on the couch. When Colin met his manager’s eyes again, the other man was giving him an appraising stare. Colin wondered if what he’d almost been doing showed on his face. His skin felt overheated, his stomach fluttering and his chest tight and he’d never had a very good poker face. Jamie had to know. It had to be obvious just from the feeling in the room, the careful, loaded quiet. “Thanks,” Colin said after a long moment. He opened his mouth again, wanting to tell Jamie to back off his friends, to tell him he had no right ordering Ryan around and keeping him off the stage, but he swallowed the words. Ryan was still in the room, and arguing about it now would only embarrass him; besides, Colin didn’t want to have another of those go-nowhere discussions with Jamie right then, the kind where he said something and Jamie glossed it over and told him it was fine. “The fondue pot is on loan from KT, so bring it back in the morning, okay?” Jamie asked, apparently deciding to blithely ignore whatever he’d interrupted. “I got everything else you wanted, except there weren’t any fresh blueberries. Wrong season, sorry.” “That’s okay,” Colin replied, poking through the bags. “This looks good. I’m not on until eleven tomorrow, right?” He turned toward Jamie, tilting his head questioningly. “Yes, eleven, though of course I’ll be here about an hour prior with your clothes for the day and to go through the arrival process, plus prep for your shows.” Ryan approached the counter, looking at the food curiously, and Jamie faced him, putting on a neutral face. “It’s Ryan, isn’t it?” “Yeah,” Ryan said, nodding. He looked just as artificially polite as Jamie, but he didn’t do it so easily. Jamie had far more practice. “Colin has asked that you appear on stage with him again tomorrow. I hope you understand when we spoke earlier, I was only trying to preserve the shows as they were originally planned. I just ask that you both be careful tomorrow; some of the things you said today were a bit... off-color.” Ryan’s eyes crinkled a little at the edges. “Were they? I couldn’t tell.” Colin bit his lips to keep from smiling. Seeming to understand that he was being teased, Jamie shifted uncomfortably, tugging the bottom of his shirt to straighten it. “Yes, well. Just bear that in mind. Colin, I’ll see you in the morning.” “See you,” Colin replied easily. He opened the door for Jamie and then closed it behind him, turning to grin at Ryan, who was pulling things out of the bags with increasing interest. “Fondue?” Ryan asked, poking the pot uncertainly. “Sure. It’s easy to make, versatile, and always a crowd pleaser. We have a fondue show tomorrow, so I figured this would be lesson and practice in one.” And it was amazing how easily that rolled off the tongue--we have a show tomorrow. We. Ryan pulled out a large block of chocolate and eyed it speculatively. “You really can’t go wrong with melted chocolate,” he said. “A hundred and one uses, right?” Colin thought in the week he’d known Ryan, he probably blushed more than he had in the past six months. “Right,” he said after a moment. “But that’s for dessert. Let’s start with the most basic fondue, bread and cheese.” He pulled a small loaf of bread out and laid it on the cutting board. “Here, you’re going to do it. Any crusty French or Italian bread will work fine, although the baguette is traditional. Make sure you get some crust in every piece you cut, because it’ll help keep the bread on the fondue fork.” “Okay,” Ryan said, pulling a knife from the silverware drawer. Colin took it from his hands before he could use it, though, and exchanged it for a proper bread knife. “Oh,” Ryan said, looking at the blade. “It’s like all the different kinds of forks, right? Except for cutting.” “Something like that,” Colin replied, smiling. He watched Ryan cut the first few slices and then stopped him again, resting a hand over his wrist to hold him still. “Okay, that’s pretty good, but let me show you a different motion. See, what you’re doing is tearing the bread and leaving it ragged. It still tastes just as good, but cooking is half presentation.” Ryan nodded, looking a little discouraged, so Colin stood at his side and put a hand on each of his. “Follow me,” he said, and carefully guided Ryan’s hands, cutting the bread in a long, smooth motion, letting the sharp blade do all the work. “Oh,” Ryan said softly. Colin could feel him breathing, their sides pressed together, his palms fitting neatly over the backs of Ryan’s bigger hands. He curved his thumbs down around Ryan’s wrists and found his pulse, strong and just a little fast. “I think you’re getting it,” Colin told him. Ryan turned his head slightly, and his cheek brushed Colin’s hair as he spoke. “Yeah,” he said. “I think I am.” Colin pulled his hands back and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to soothe the tingling skin. “Um. I’ll, uh... I’ll start the cheese sauce.” He put a clove of garlic on the counter and peeled it quickly, then cut it in half. “Here, this is something you might not have seen before,” he said, and showed Ryan how to rub the inside of the pot with the fresh cut garlic. “See, it adds a very subtle taste, and it also acts like nonstick coating, keeping the cheese from burning to the pot.” “Huh.” Ryan copied his motion with the other half clove, until Colin corrected him again, holding his hand and steering. “Slowly,” Colin said, feeling Ryan’s breath on the side of his throat. “Small circles. Don’t squeeze too hard, or you’ll mash the garlic and the flavor will be too strong. Be gentle with it.” “Gentle,” Ryan echoed, a laugh just beneath his voice. “Yeah.” Colin swallowed and let go, taking a deep breath of the garlic scented air. “Okay, that’s enough. You go ahead and finish the bread, but watch what I’m doing.” Ryan paid close attention as Colin put dry white wine in the pot, bringing it to a simmer. He mixed a little cornstarch and some kirsch liquor, which was like a cherry brandy, in another bowl, then set it aside. He added the cheese next, explaining how the Emmental and Gruyere complimented each other. It was a gradual process, allowing each piece to melt and be fully stirred in, and by then Ryan had finished with the bread and was stealing nibbles of the cheese. He also tried a little of the kirsch and quickly spat it in the sink, while Colin laughed. “We’re eating that?” Ryan asked, wiping his mouth. “It’s like cooking sherry or baker’s chocolate,” Colin told him. “It doesn’t taste good by itself.” “There’s an awful lot of alcohol in this recipe,” Ryan said, sniffing the wine bottle cautiously but not trying a taste. It was Fendant, a Swiss wine, and it wasn’t that bad to drink, but it was ideal for fondue. “A lot of classic recipes use alcohol, and this is so rich, with the bread and the cheese that it needs something a little sharp to set it off. Besides, the actual alcohol content is quite low. You’d have to eat an insane amount of fondue to feel any affects from it.” “Hmm. Too bad,” Ryan said, and Colin poked him in the side. Once all the cheese was melted, Colin stirred the cornstarch and kirsch mixture again and added it slowly. Ryan took up the big spoon and moved it in circles in the pot, but Colin slipped a hand over his again and directed him in a zigzag pattern. “To keep the cheese from balling up,” he said, and he supposed he could have just told Ryan that without holding his hand, but really, why should he deny himself the little pleasures? They gave it a few minutes to thicken, and then Colin arranged the pot over the small flame to keep it warm and they took it to the table, settling down with their bread and long fondue forks. Colin watched Ryan take the first bite, his head tilting back and his eyes closed, the tip of his tongue slipping out to swipe a drop of the dip from the corner of his mouth. “Good?” Colin asked, although the expression on Ryan’s face had already answered for him. “Mmmm,” Ryan said, nodding. “S’great.” “And you helped make it,” Colin pointed out, taking a bite himself. “Must’ve had a good teacher.” Ryan smiled slyly at him and Colin ducked his head, grinning. “Must have,” he agreed. They polished off the bread quickly, and the sliced meats that Colin brought out next were soon gone as well. Ryan washed the last bits of cheese from the pot as Colin laid out the fresh fruit, smiling when he saw the mango was just perfectly ripened, more orange than green and soft to the touch, giving a little beneath his fingers. “So,” Ryan said, coming up beside him and dusting his hands together. “What did you have in mind for the chocolate?” And Colin smiled. ~~~ The kitchen still smelled like chocolate in the morning. Colin was up first and he smiled when he caught the lingering whiff of sweetness in the air. They’d had fun with the dessert. Perhaps a bit too much fun, considering the melted chocolate on the floor and the carpet. The cleaning staff was going to hate him. But really, it hadn’t been his fault. Ryan had started it, although Colin supposed he could have just let it go when Ryan had flung a few drips of chocolate at him from the tip of his fondue fork. Throwing a sticky slice of strawberry at his head had probably been unnecessary. Colin couldn’t quite bring himself to be sorry. Just the expression on Ryan’s face, the strawberry sliding down his cheek, leaving a trail of juice and chocolate--well, Colin thought he’d do just about anything to see that look again. It hadn’t been an all out food fight or anything, just a sly game of subterfuge. First Colin sat down to find a bit of squashed mango on his chair, and he retaliated by sneaking up behind Ryan and swiping chocolate coated banana over the back of his neck. Ryan had yelped and leapt up to find Colin halfway across the room, humming innocently, mouth full of banana. He’d made it up to Ryan by letting him have the first shower, and by the time he’d finished his own Ryan was sound asleep. Colin had sat for a long time on the edge of his friend’s bed, wondering how lightly Ryan slept. Wondering if he could get away with running his hand over the freshly washed hair. Wondering what it meant that Ryan hadn’t waited to be asked to stay, he’d just sacked out, fully at ease. In the end, Colin had settled for the barest touch, adjusting Ryan’s blanket, tugging it to mid chest and smoothing the wrinkles. Ryan hadn’t stirred, not even when Colin had rested his open hand on Ryan’s chest for a few breaths, feeling the steady rise and fall. He’d returned to his own bed with a certain reluctance, but there were still lines, despite how comfortable they’d grown with each other. Colin was willing to toe those lines, to test them, but not to cross them. Not if the consequence was chasing Ryan away. Colin settled at the table with the morning paper, which had been placed outside the door, and an orange left over from the previous night. He was halfway through peeling the orange, trying to get the peel off in one long spiral when he felt warmth and a slight movement in the air behind him. Colin smiled and leaned back, unsurprised when the back of his head bumped against Ryan’s soft belly. “Hey,” Ryan said, looking down at him. “You caught me.” “Can’t sneak up on me. I’m part ninja.” Ryan laughed quietly, pulling a chair close to his and sitting down. “Really? Where’d you pick that up?” “It comes naturally,” Colin told him. “It’s a Canadian thing.” “Ah.” Ryan nodded and stole a section of his orange. “Like the diabolical grinning?” “Yes, like that.” Colin caught his wrist when he tried to steal another piece and Ryan froze, his arm taut in Colin’s grip. For a moment, it was a contest of strength, playful but not quite, Ryan pulling and Colin holding him still, pinned. Then Colin let him go and Ryan dipped his chin, almost hiding a smile. “Maybe I should get my own breakfast,” he muttered, rubbing his wrist, but there was no real bite to his voice. “Nah,” Colin said. He separated half his orange and passed it to Ryan. “You only had to ask.” Ryan flicked a glance at him and said nothing, concentrating on his orange. Colin started the crossword and soon Ryan was leaning over his shoulder, pointing out answers, solving the clues with an ease that confirmed Colin’s suspicions. Ryan was clearly smarter than he let on. “So listen,” Colin said after they’d finished the puzzle. “Maybe we could go somewhere tonight.” Ryan raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his chair. “Somewhere?” “Well, you know, other than the hotel. I mean, it’s a big city, right? There must be something to do.” “Getting tired of teaching me to cook?” Ryan asked, and the tone was light, teasing, but his eyes were not. “Not at all.” Colin grinned and ran a hand through his remaining fringe of hair pointedly. “Although I could have done without the chocolate-covered-cherry hair treatment.” Ryan snickered. “I figured it couldn’t do any harm. I mean...” He trailed off, then shrugged, rubbing a hand nervously over the back of his neck. “You mean I couldn’t get any more bald? Gee, thanks.” Colin nudged Ryan’s leg under the table with his bare foot, but he wasn’t angry and that must have shown. Ryan grinned and nudged back, his ankle brushing the inside of Colin’s knee beneath his robe. “Hey, I wasn’t going to say it.” “Uh-huh.” Colin gave him a thin smile. “Anyway. Come on, let’s go out. Watch a movie. Do... something. There are things here, right?” Ryan shrugged. “All I know about Detroit is they make cars.” “You’re so much help,” Colin said dryly. “Thanks. I try.” Colin threw the orange peel at him. ~~~ The conference was winding down and with the big cook-off between the various presenters scheduled for the final day, this second to last day was mostly a place holder, with a shorter list of events. Colin ran his plans for Ryan by Jamie first, as much as he could plan, given that they made up most of the show on the spur of the moment. Jamie seemed mollified by the gesture, though, and when they dutifully kept the jokes on the PG side of things, he smiled and left them to it. Ryan was slowly gaining confidence on the stage, willing to actually help with the cooking under Colin’s direction, rather than just stand by and cause funny distractions. They had only two shows, and the second one was fondue, so Ryan had a head start. He still fumbled with the knife work though, leading Colin to guide his hands again. Colin told himself it was silly to think Ryan had done it on purpose. There wasn’t time to do the full menu in order so they had two pots going, one for the cheese and one for chocolate. They distributed samples through the crowd and a line formed, people dipping their food in the appropriate pot and nibbling appreciatively. Ryan snagged a bit of the fresh pineapple and dipped it in the chocolate, then brought it to his mouth, but at the last minute veered off and fed it to a startled Colin. He swiped the corner of Colin’s mouth with his thumb, cleaning up some smeared chocolate, and licked his own hand to mixed cheers and groans from the audience. Colin was glad he had the pineapple in his mouth, since it gave him an excuse not to speak. He just licked the last bits of chocolate from his lips and met Ryan’s eyes, which were dancing merrily. A joke, of course. They were free early in the afternoon and Jamie swung by to lavish praise about the rapidly selling fondue pots, then zipped off again, apparently having no further objections to Ryan’s part in the show. Then there was the obligatory exit, full of handshaking and congratulations and a few autographs, because Colin hated to say no and it made Jamie happy when he talked to the fans. There were also a lot of questions about Ryan, mostly who he was and if he’d be a permanent addition. Colin identified him as simply “My friend, Ryan,” and avoided questions about how long he’d be staying. Then they were down the block and around the corner, free of the convention crowds and the mingled scents of a dozen different things cooking that spilled from the event center and halfway across the street. “So,” Ryan said, nudging his side. “Now what?” Colin shrugged, face turned up toward the sky, relishing the sunlight. “Now we see what we can find.” They walked, Colin lengthening his strides a little to match Ryan’s longer legs until Ryan seemed to notice and slowed to a more comfortable pace. They were in a heavily commercial downtown area, with a lot of stores and restaurants and big pay by the hour parking garages, and although nothing looked appealing enough to stop and check out, Colin found himself enjoying the time anyway. Ryan was easy to be with, to just walk beside and look at things and not feel pressured to come up with witty conversation. The day was cool and bright, and it was late afternoon before Colin started to feel tired of walking. “You hungry?” he asked, and Ryan shrugged, so they turned into the next place with food, which turned out to be a Starbucks. They stocked up on Chai tea lattes and croissants and wound up at a table by the window, watching the street outside. Colin half suspected they’d end up spending part of the night there, talking for hours because that was how these things went, wasn’t it? He’d seen enough movies to recognize a textbook romance when he saw one. But that was silly. Foolish, really. Even if Ryan didn’t seem to mind a little flirting. Even if he seemed to encourage it sometimes. The speed and ease with which he’d become friends with Ryan was amazing, but he couldn’t let it fool him into seeing something that wasn’t there. “Shoplifter,” Ryan said, out of the blue, and Colin jumped. “What?” “Him.” Ryan pointed at a man hurrying down the street outside, holding his jacket shut, one hand tucked inside the flap. “He’s got DVDs in there. And some other electronics. One of those little palm pilot things.” “Okay,” Colin said, craning his neck to watch the man until he was out of sight. “I’ll give you shoplifter, but not what he stole. Did you see his hair? Ragged, halfway over his collar, greasy. His jacket was dirty, and the back was torn. Blue jeans with a hole in the knee. I’m betting liquor. Whiskey.” “You’re stereotyping,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “And you’re not?” Ryan shrugged and looked out the window, then pointed to a woman passing by. “She’s having an affair.” Colin considered the woman, one finger tapping his lips as he thought. “Okay, why?” “Why is she having the affair, or why do I think she is?” “Either. Both.” Ryan chuckled and pressed a fingertip to a crumb of croissant on his plate, then licked it off. “She’s getting close to forty and her husband doesn’t pay attention to her. He’s always commenting on women on TV or their waitress at a restaurant or pretty much any female, anywhere. He’s clueless that way. So she goes out in that little dress and heels that she’s not used to, meeting the co-worker at the hotel around the corner, with her hair down and blowing in her face because she thinks that looks sexy.” Colin raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Of course, she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring,” he said, although she’d been too far away and moving too fast to see whether she was or not. “Of course,” Ryan replied. “She took it off for her big date.” “Nice,” Colin said, smiling. “So far we’ve had a thief and a cheating wife. What’s next, an axe murderer?” “I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” Ryan said. So they watched out the window until a young woman paused and looked back at them. They turned away quickly, Ryan giving a sheepish laugh, but she was already backtracking, coming around to the front door. “Uh-oh,” Colin muttered. “Busted.” “We were just looking,” Ryan said. “What’s wrong with that?” The woman came straight to their table and when she got close, Colin saw that she was more of a girl, maybe seventeen at the oldest. She stood beside him, eyes wide, mouth open and he winced because suddenly he knew what was coming. It was always so weird when this happened. “Oh my god,” the girl said, the words rushed together, squeaking. “You’re the famous chef, aren’t you? Colin Mochrie, right? Oh my god I love your show so much.” “Thanks,” Colin said, smiling politely. “It’s nice to meet you...” She didn’t offer her name, but turned, waving a hand. “Hey, everyone, it’s Colin Mochrie! Isn’t that cool? Look!” Colin ducked his head, aware of Ryan shifting uncomfortably across from him. Luckily there wasn’t much response from the other customers; a few murmurs of recognition and a couple people called out a greeting, but no one seemed inclined to rush over. The girl shook her head, making a disparaging noise. “People just don’t know talent, I guess. You’re amazing, really you are. And so funny! I really love you.” Colin nodded and offered another smile. It was always odd to have perfect strangers say they loved him. Flattering, but odd. “That’s nice of you to say,” he murmured, keeping his voice low in the hopes that she would do the same. “Hey, can I have your autograph?” “Sure,” Colin said, scribbling his name on a napkin when she didn’t produce anything for him to write on. She snatched the napkin and beamed at him, then tucked it in her handbag. “Thanks so much. I didn’t know you were in town or I so would’ve been at your show. Are you doing shows? Or just visiting someone?” Her eyes flicked curiously to Ryan for a moment before focusing that piercing stare back at Colin. “There’s a conference,” he said. “And I should actually be going, it starts very early in the morning.” He began edging out of his seat, but the girl was standing in the way and the wall was blocking the other side, leaving him trapped. “What conference? Where is it? Can I get tickets?” Colin sighed. “The Kitchen Tech annual food and cooking convention,” he said. “It’s in the event center down on Markham street. Open to the public.” The girl bounced a little on her heels and clasped her hands together. “Great! I’ll be there. Are you staying here in town?” Ryan caught his eye across the table, looking increasingly unnerved, and Colin couldn’t blame him. Talking to a fan at a show was one thing; it was expected there, part of his job, and there were always safeguards in place in case someone got a little too excited. Suddenly being accosted while he was just hanging out with a friend tended to catch him off guard. “Yes,” Colin said shortly, and tried to slide out of his seat again. The girl didn’t move and he doubted anyone could be that dense. She had to know he wanted out, and that meant she was choosing to keep him pinned down. “Really? Where?” Colin paused, staring at her. “I, uh... I can’t really give that information out, sorry. For legal reasons.” “It’s okay,” the girl said brightly. “I won’t tell anyone.” Colin exchanged another glance with Ryan and the other man got up, moving to the girl’s side. He towered over her and she shot him a slightly annoyed glance, the look sharpening when he put a hand on her shoulder and gently steered her aside. “Excuse us,” Ryan said, and Colin noticed his voice had gotten lower, rougher. “We really have to get going.” “Yes,” Colin agreed, quickly standing and edging around the table until it was between him and the girl. “Thanks for the support, and it was nice meeting you.” He offered a brief handshake, pulling his arm back forcibly when she didn’t let go. Ryan put an arm around his shoulders and moved him out the door, Colin speeding his steps until it was Ryan, with his long legs, who had to hurry to catch up. The day had cooled considerably and the air was sharp and invigorating, calming after the claustrophobic encounter in the coffee shop. “Wow,” Ryan muttered, glancing back over his shoulder. “That was weird.” “Yeah. It happens sometimes.” Colin looked back too, and grimaced when he saw the girl step out onto the street and immediately turn in their direction. She walked about a half block behind them and Colin told himself she wasn’t following them. She’d been walking in this direction to begin with, after all. “Should we be worried here?” Ryan asked, checking to see if she was still behind them. “I don’t think so,” Colin said. “I mean, she’s just a little more enthusiastic than most fans, that’s all. Probably harmless.” “Probably?” “Mostly.” Colin offered a nervous smile. “I think. Come on, she’s a kid. What can she do?” Ryan shrugged and glanced back again. “She’s still following us.” Colin took the next corner, heading into a somewhat run down section of the city. For several steps, there was no one behind them, but then the girl appeared at the corner and turned the same way they had. Ryan put an arm around his shoulders again, his hand squeezing Colin’s upper arm. “That could be coincidence, I suppose,” he muttered. “Could be.” Colin walked a little faster. “Probably isn’t. We may need to tell her bluntly to stop.” “You think she will?” “Give it another corner,” Colin said. “If we turn again and she’s still following us, we’ll put a stop to it. I don’t feel like being chased all night.” So they took a left at the next street and sure enough, the girl stayed right behind them, closing the distance until she was only a few yards back. They’d moved into an industrial area, bracketed on either side by warehouses with dark windows, machine shops, and factories. “Okay,” Colin said, stopping and facing the girl. Ryan stood beside him, hand on his lower back, and Colin was glad of the support. “Please stop following us,” he said plainly when the girl stood in front of them. “I’m not,” she said. “I’m just headed home.” “You live here?” Ryan asked dubiously, indicating the neighborhood. “Around here,” she replied. “Then go ahead,” Colin said, standing aside. She frowned and took a few steps past him, then turned and folded her arms. “Okay, fine,” she said. “I was following you. I’m just curious, that’s all.” “I can understand that, but please, stop.” Colin tried his most winning smile, but the girl didn’t seem swayed. “Why don’t you want to talk to me? I really like you.” And now it seemed like she was trying to flirt, stepping close and trailing a finger down Colin’s chest. Colin leaned back and caught her hand, steering it away. “And I appreciate that,” he said, gritting his teeth but keeping the polite tone. “But I really can’t... it’s just not appropriate.” She took another step toward him and Colin found himself half behind Ryan, trying to dodge. Ryan stretched an arm out, blocking her, and she glared up at him. “Look,” Ryan said, and his voice was low and flat again, almost growling. “He’s trying to be nice, but you need to listen. He doesn’t know you. You’re a perfect stranger, and you’re being very pushy. Also, you’re what, fifteen?” “I’ll be seventeen in May,” she said, giving Ryan a dark look. “So what?” “So he’s old enough to be your father and it’s just... weird, okay?” Ryan lifted his hands, giving a frustrated sigh. “Please, just go away. Go home.” “You’re being very rude,” she said, cocking her head to the side and fixing them both with a pointed stare. “You should be nice to your fans. Where would you be without people like me?” Colin was tempted to answer that he’d still be back in a nice comfortable coffee shop, spending time with his friend, instead of standing on an empty sidewalk as the day rapidly grew darker and colder. He just stared at the girl, half thinking this was some strange and elaborate joke. He’d heard the stories, of course; seen court cases where movie stars had to get restraining orders against their stalkers, fans who just wouldn’t give up, but he found it hard to believe it was actually happening to him. This girl clearly wasn’t going to take no for an answer, but he didn’t know what else to do. A polite refusal had always been enough before. Then Ryan’s hand was in his, holding tight and Ryan leaned over, murmuring in his ear. “Run,” he said and Colin shook his head, baffled. He looked up at Ryan, wanting to ask what he meant, because he couldn’t possibly be suggesting they run away, could he? Flee from a teenage girl who was crossing the line from annoying to creepy? That was just... crazy. Possibly as crazy as being stalked because he was on a cooking show. Before Colin could ask, Ryan was darting away, pulling him by the hand until he got his feet to cooperate and ran alongside, his coat flying out behind him and his breath rasping in his throat. He could hear the girl shout in protest, and then her footsteps, light and fast, but she was wearing boots with high heels, and that combined with their longer legs soon outdistanced her. Ryan swung them into an alley, then out onto the street on the other end and around a corner and they skidded to a halt in the entryway of a bar, breathing hard and pressed against the wall, watching for pursuit. “Holy shit,” Ryan panted, running a hand over his face. “Did that just happen?” Colin laughed weakly, glad for Ryan’s warm presence at his side, shoring him up. He was more shaken than he wanted to admit, his skin crawling unpleasantly, his stomach tight and unsteady. “We should go inside,” he said, not trusting the open street. He thought they’d lost her, but better to be sure. Ryan nodded and they went in, the bar hot and full of cigarette smoke and the flat, thick scent of beer. Colin sat on a stool, aware of Ryan ordering something, and he looked up when a glass clinked on the bar in front of him. “Figure we can both use a drink,” Ryan said, smiling at him. He looked a little frayed around the edges too, which Colin found comforting. At least he wasn’t the only one rattled. “Yeah,” he said, taking a long swallow. It was some cocktail he didn’t recognize, mixed strong, and he shuddered a little. “So. Maybe we should have stuck to the hotel room, huh?” Ryan laughed and leaned close, nudging their shoulders together. “Eh, it was all right. An adventure.” “Hmm.” Colin considered his drink and for a long moment, thought about having a few more. Enough to calm his nerves and still his trembling hands, to let him relax with Ryan and bring some of the easy pleasure he’d taken in his friend’s company back. But he had the cook-off in the morning and they still had to get back to the hotel. “Hey,” Colin said, lifting his head and looking around. “Where are we, anyway?” “Um. Good question.” Ryan glanced out at the dark street, and shrugged. “Maybe we should call a cab.” Colin nodded. He could call Jamie, of course, and that would mean a free ride back to the hotel, but it would also mean a lecture. He wasn’t quite ready to explain his evening to his manager, especially not the bit about the girl. Jamie would either hover and ask a hundred times if he was okay or dismiss the whole thing entirely as an overreaction. Colin wasn’t sure which would bother him more. So Ryan found a phone book and got their address from the bartender, and Colin used his cell to get a cab. He felt calmer by the time it arrived, with the cocktail in him and half of another he’d stolen tastes of from Ryan, and they piled into the backseat laughing about their rapid dash from the bar, as if the girl might have been lying in wait just outside. She wasn’t, which was just as well, Colin thought. He was very tired, maybe from the long day and maybe from the letdown after the adrenalin rush of the chase. Ryan took up much of the backseat, leaving Colin pressed against his side and Colin could no longer kid himself that it wasn’t deliberate. When Ryan’s arm slid around his shoulders he went with it easily, resting his head in the hollow of Ryan’s shoulder and letting his eyes close. Ryan was quiet and still beside him, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath Colin’s cheek, and Colin wondered if he was falling asleep. It wouldn’t be so bad if he was, Colin decided. It was comfortable and calming and he could always claim the small backseat as an excuse. He knew when they got to the hotel, it would be separate beds again, watching Ryan sleep and wondering if the space just beside him was as warm and cozy as it looked. Maybe he’d find out one of these days. There was time, after all. No need to rush. The thought was a good one and Colin smiled, his lips still curved upward as he sank into a doze, safe at Ryan’s side. ~~~ Colin was pacing when Ryan came out of the bedroom the next morning, and didn’t stop until Ryan stood in his path and leaned over, trying to catch his eye. “Morning,” Ryan said, looking scruffy and sleep tousled and soft around the edges. “Hmm.” Colin offered a quick smile. “You should probably get dressed. We’ve got to be there early this morning.” Ryan looked at him for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Everything all right?” “Sure. Just, you know. Big day.” Colin tapped his fingers rapidly on the countertop, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Got the cook-off to do.” “Ah.” Ryan sidled up to him and rested a hand over his, stilling his tapping fingertips. “Worried you might not win?” “Oh, I know I won’t win,” Colin replied, wondering if Ryan was just going to leave his hand there. Wondering how he could act so casual about it, with that playful, teasing little smile. “Come on, you’re really good. You’ve at least got a chance.” Colin shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. The contest is fixed, it always is.” Ryan pulled his hand back, folding his arms. “What?” “It’s like this,” Colin said. “This year, KT’s big new product is their latest gas grill. It’s supposed to use propane, but have a special area where you can put regular charcoal briquettes to give the food that smoky flavor. Jack, that’s one of the other presenters, he’s doing the honey and cracked peppercorn T-bone using the grill. So he’ll win. That’s how they promote new products.” “But... but that’s not even fair. Why even call it a contest if that’s all they’re going to do? What about the judges?” Colin couldn’t help smiling at Ryan, who actually looked indignant on his behalf. “The judges all work for Kitchen Tech. This is just the way it is, Ryan. It’s a business, after all.” “Well I think it’s a load of crap,” Ryan grumbled. “You deserve a fair shot at winning.” “There is the unofficial contest,” Colin said. “It’s not the judging, and there aren’t any rewards or trophies or anything like that, but it’s pretty much the real cook-off. Basically, it’s how many people you can draw to your set and how well-liked your final product is.” “Like the popular vote,” Ryan said. “Okay, I guess that’s something. What are you making?” Colin shrugged. “I’m not sure. Jamie will let me know. Probably my signature recipe, the chili-rubbed chicken.” “Oh you’re definitely winning now,” Ryan said, bumping their shoulders together. “That stuff is awesome. Hey, do we get to keep the leftovers?” Colin laughed and pushed Ryan toward the bathroom, hands on either side of his waist. “Are you ever not hungry? Go on, get ready. If you’re going on with me, you’ve got to look at least a little presentable.” Ryan allowed himself to be shooed, and it was only later, when he was out of sight and Colin could hear the shower running and the faint sounds of Ryan’s slightly off key humming, that he realized he didn’t feel nervous anymore. ~~~ “They love it,” Ryan murmured out of the corner of his mouth, eying the long line of people waiting for samples. “You’re a hit.” Colin tended toward cautious optimism and not counting chickens before they were hatched (or cooked, for that matter), but he had to admit Ryan was probably right. They weren’t the only two-man show in the conference, and they weren’t the fastest or the best looking, but they seemed to have something intangible that drew people in. Maybe it was that they were honestly having fun, enjoying the cooking and the show. A laughing crowd always attracted more attention, and Colin found it was far easier to be funny with Ryan to bounce jokes off of, to play with, and to pick up where he left off. “Let’s not celebrate just yet,” he replied quietly, smiling at another person who’d come up for their tidbit of chicken and roasted vegetables. The crowd was murmuring amongst themselves, enjoying their food, the main presentation basically over. “Come on. Look at the grill guy over there, he’s barely got half the people you’ve got.” Colin told himself it was rather unkind to be smug. Gloating was immature. He was marginally successful in curbing a pleased smirk. “It’s mostly because of you, you know.” “You’re the star,” Ryan countered. “I’m just the goofy sidekick.” Colin laughed and nudged Ryan with his knee behind the counter. “Well, goofy sidekick, I think you can consider yourself hired. Jamie’s going to start kissing your feet when he sees the numbers after this one.” Ryan sliced up a little more chicken (properly, Colin noticed, with knife handling that was already showing signs of skill) and said nothing. “Ryan?” “Hey, I think they’re announcing the winner,” Ryan said, pointing across the conference floor. Sure enough, the judges were coming to the main podium, one of them carrying an envelope, another with a trophy. “You already know who it is,” Colin sighed, shrugging. “It should be you. I don’t see how they can stand up there and name that guy with the steaks as the winner when it’s obvious everyone likes you best.” “It’s business,” Colin replied. “I don’t mind.” And he didn’t, not really. Sure, it would’ve been nice to win, to take the trophy and the congratulations, but he’d won his share when he was a rising star and now he was content to be old reliable and let someone else have the spotlight for a while. Besides, the people had clearly spoken, and that meant more to him than any official title. Ryan stared moodily at the countertop as Jack and his new grill were announced as the winners. There was polite applause and a short acceptance speech, with due credit given to the excellent cooking equipment (available in the center lobby, folks, at very reasonable prices) and then it was over. “You’re not actually disappointed, are you?” Colin asked as the crowds dispersed, several still lingering and hoping for those last few samples. “I don’t know. I guess it’s dumb, I just... I was kind of hoping they’d surprise you.” “Hey, as far as I’m concerned, we did win,” Colin said, indicating the crowd with a sweep of his hand. “We made the audience happy and we didn’t set fire to the set, so that must be pretty good, huh?” Ryan chuckled and looked at him with such unguarded warmth for a moment that Colin had to look away, flustered. “Yeah,” Ryan said softly. “I guess we’re not bad.” “And that’s it,” Colin announced, giving away the last sample. “Sorry folks, food’s all gone. Thanks for coming.” There were disappointed murmurs but the crowd scattered, several calling compliments to the chef as they went. Colin sat down on the edge of the stage, swinging his legs and letting his heels thump against the wooden supports. Ryan sat beside him, his longer legs allowing his toes to brush the ground. “So,” Colin said after a while. “You don’t want to be the goofy sidekick?” He felt Ryan tense beside him and closed his eyes for a moment. It was inevitable, he supposed. It had been fun, but really, what had he been thinking? That Ryan would sign on cheerfully to be his partner and they’d become a duo? Ryan was a pilot, for reasons that were important to him. It wasn’t like he’d want to give that up to do a job that he’d never really asked for in the first place. “I, well...” Ryan scuffed the toes of his sneakers on the floor, looking down. “I didn’t think...” “It’s okay,” Colin said shortly. “It was just a thought, that’s all.” “No, it’s not that I don’t want to, really. I thought this was a temporary thing. I mean... hell, I’m hardly qualified, am I?” “You can do the job,” Colin replied, watching Ryan carefully. He wasn’t quite sure if this was Ryan’s way of letting him down gently, or if he just didn’t think he was capable. “You’ve been doing the job, and I have no doubt I can talk Jamie into paying you for it, if that’s the problem.” “This isn’t about money,” Ryan said, narrowing his eyes. “If that’s what you think...” “No, no, I didn’t. I just...” Colin sighed and let himself lean against Ryan, shaking his head. “I like this,” he murmured. “I think we’re good together, and we could continue being good. But if that’s not what you want, then... it’s up to you.” “On stage, right?” Colin blinked, frowning. “What?” “You think we’re good together on stage. That’s what you meant.” Colin looked at him for a long moment and Ryan’s gaze was steady, uncompromising. “Yes,” Colin said. “That’s what I meant.” Ryan nodded, staring down at his hands, long and dexterous, fingers lacing together in unconscious patterns. “I could try that,” he said. “See what happens.” “Yeah?” Colin smiled and clapped a hand on Ryan’s back. “Good.” Ryan smiled back at him, and it was sweet and genuine but Colin couldn’t help feeling he’d missed something. As if Ryan had been expecting something and been disappointed. “There you two are,” Jamie called out, coming from around the side of the stage. “What are you still doing out here?” “Nothing,” Colin said, shrugging. “Talking.” “You were great, really great,” Jamie told them, beaming. “Colin, buddy, I’m sorry about the whole judging thing, but you know how it works. KT really wants to push that grill, especially after they over-ordered and got too much inventory. But really, you’ve been fabulous through this whole conference, great shows every day, and hey, Ryan, I want you to know that Kitchen Tech appreciates your contribution.” “Thanks,” Ryan said dryly. “I felt so welcomed.” Jamie blinked and faltered for a moment. “Yes, well. Maybe you can join us again sometime, hmm?” “I think that’s a good idea,” Colin said, trying not to smile at the wary, uncertain way Jamie was eying him. “In fact, I think he should join us every time.” “Oh? I... really?” Jamie looked back and forth between them, frowning. “That’s a bit of a surprise.” And Colin knew how he hated surprises. “Sorry,” Colin said blandly. “It’s a recent decision. I’d be happy to discuss the terms with you, Ryan’s commission, that sort of thing, when you have the time.” “Well, I... I’ll have to clear it with KT, you know. Contracts to draw up, accounting will have to have the latest sales numbers to calculate the percentages, we’ll have to contact all your hosts to make sure they’re prepared for a two person show... I can’t make it happen overnight.” Colin nodded. “But you can make it happen. Right?” “Hey, if it’s what you really want, you know I can,” Jamie said, recovering a little of his bounce. “Don’t I always take care of you? Sure I do. I’ll get started on it right away and call you with more details when I have them.” He turned to Ryan and extended a hand. “Welcome aboard.” Ryan looked a little stunned, but shook his hand automatically, nodding his thanks. Then Jamie was gone, once again talking on his cell phone, his free hand waving at a few departing conference-goers. “That was easy,” Ryan said, raising his eyebrows. “I thought I’d have to do an audition or something.” Colin laughed and slipped an arm around Ryan’s shoulders. “You auditioned that first time I brought you on stage. Congratulations, you got the part.” “Oh.” Ryan offered him a weak smile. “Change your mind so soon?” Colin asked, not quite joking. “No, I... I guess I just didn’t expect it to happen so fast.” “It’s a fast business,” Colin said, squeezing him a little. “But really, nothing’s going to change. You’ll still fly me, and come up and goof around on stage with me, and that’s about it. You’ve already been doing it, we’re just making it official.” Ryan gave him an unreadable look and nodded. “I guess you’ll still need to teach me things, right?” Colin grinned. “That’s the best part.” ~~~ “You know, I just thought of something,” Ryan said later, when they were sitting lazily in the hotel room, Colin reading the paper and Ryan flipping channels on the TV. “What’s that?” “Your stalker wasn’t there today.” Colin lowered the newspaper. “My what?” “You know.” Ryan waved the remote meaningfully. “That girl from last night. You told her where the conference was.” “Oh, yeah. Smart move, huh?” “Well, you didn’t know she was nuts at the time,” Ryan pointed out. “She wasn’t nuts,” Colin protested. Ryan looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “Okay, maybe a little,” Colin conceded after a moment. “But at least she had good taste.” “Hmm.” Ryan shook his head and gave a soft chuff of laughter. “I still can’t believe she actually tried that thing.” “What thing?” “The Mrs. Robinson bit, you know...” Ryan leaned over and ran a fingertip down Colin’s chest, the nail scratching ever so slightly through his thin shirt. “Oh,” Colin said. “That. Right. I’d, uh... forgotten.” Ryan was poised over him, braced by one arm and it occurred to Colin that he was essentially pinned on the couch. He bit his lip and shifted slightly, looking up at Ryan. “It’s not like you’d actually go for something like that,” Ryan said, and he wasn’t moving. Not even a little. “Sure,” Colin replied, swallowing. “I mean, not. I wouldn’t. Not with some teenage girl.” “That’s what I thought.” Ryan put one hand on Colin’s thigh to push himself back into a sitting position, then started flipping channels again, looking perfectly innocent. Colin narrowed his eyes. Ryan was messing with his head. He had to be. No one was that clueless. Well, fine. If he wanted to play, Colin was game. He put the newspaper down and scooted over until their legs were pressed together. Then he reached across Ryan’s lap, neatly plucking the remote from his hand. “Would you make up your mind?” “There’s nothing good on,” Ryan protested, but he wasn’t looking at the TV anymore. Colin smiled at him. “You just need to broaden your horizons a little. Try something new.” “Oh? And what did you have in mind?” By this point, it was a matter of pride. Colin couldn’t be the one to blink first. “Well, that depends. What have you tried?” Ryan’s lips curved into smile that Colin could only describe as filthy. “More than you think.” Unbalanced by the smile and everything it seemed to imply, suggestions lurking in those mischievous green eyes, Colin faltered for a moment. “Um,” he said, licking his lips nervously. “How big is that Jacuzzi?” he blurted, and then froze, trying hard to keep a straight face. Ryan’s eyes widened very slowly. “Big.” And now his lips were twitching, his eyes crinkled up at the corners and it was only a matter of time. “Good to know,” Colin said, and it was close, it was so close. He waggled his eyebrows theatrically and Ryan crumpled, laughing into his hand, his eyes squeezed shut. Colin sat back and grinned. “That wasn’t fair,” Ryan wheezed, his voice high and squeaky. Colin bit the tail end of an actual giggle before it could escape. “I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.” Ryan rolled his eyes and hit him with a throw pillow. Colin sputtered, feigning surprise until he got his hands on the two pillows at his end of the couch, and then he brought them together on either side of Ryan’s head, boxing his ears. He was up and over the back of the couch before Ryan had even finished his indignant squawk. He jumped for the bed, aware of Ryan’s thumping footsteps right behind him and his own laughter, helpless and buoyant. He was airborne for a moment, arms outstretched, back arched, and then he landed hard on his belly, skidding across the slippery bedspread and tumbling to the floor on the other side. He had time to register that he was sitting in an ungainly heap, jammed between the side of the bed and the floor, and then Ryan thudded down beside him, out of breath and smiling, eyes keen and predatory. Colin felt himself righted by a strong hand wrapped around his upper arm and then his legs were yanked, landing him on his back. Ryan leaned over him, teeth showing for a moment, hands braced to either side of Colin’s shoulders. “Gotcha,” he said. “Okay,” Colin said, still laughing. “You got me. What are you going to do with me?” Ryan’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “It can’t be that easy.” “What if it is?” Colin looked up at him, blinking slowly, and gave him a little smile. “Why can’t it be simple?” “Very zen,” Ryan said. Colin watched his throat work as he swallowed. Then he pulled back, taking Colin’s hand and helping him to sit up. “Look,” Ryan began, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I... this thing...” That was when Colin’s cell phone rang, loud and shrill in the sudden quiet. “I don’t have to answer it,” Colin said immediately, reaching into his pocket. “I can turn it off.” “No, you should answer. It might be important.” Colin wanted to argue, to say this was important, this whatever-it-was they kept dancing around, but it was too late. Whatever Ryan had been about to say was gone now, the moment lost. So he sighed and flipped the phone open, leaning back against the bed with his eyes closed. “Yes?” he said, and then listened for a minute, nodding. “Okay. We’ll be ready. See you.” “Jamie?” Ryan asked. “Yeah. We’ve got Cincinnati tomorrow. We fly in the morning.” Colin wondered what had happened to his promised time off, but knew it had most likely been sacrificed in favor of bringing Ryan on board. Jamie knew better than to ask for another salary and a vacation on the same day. “Goody,” Ryan said darkly, sighing. Colin wrapped an arm around his waist and rested his head on Ryan’s shoulder. It was a little scary how quickly this had become natural and easy. Scarier still to think how much he’d miss it if things changed. “Think you’ll teach me anything on the flight?” Colin asked. Ryan nodded, and although Colin couldn’t see his face, he felt sure Ryan was smiling. “Yeah,” Ryan said. “I think I will.” ~~~ Ryan was quiet in the car the next morning, but that was all right; Jamie was speaking enough for everyone. He’d gotten enthusiastic about bringing Ryan on as “co-talent” and was busily making plans of how they’d juggle the flight contract and the performance contract and assuring Ryan that he’d make sure to get the best possible deal. Ryan looked a little dazed by it all, but nodded agreeably, which was all it really took to keep Jamie going. “It’ll be fine,” Colin said, leaning over to him in the backseat. They’d already swung by Ryan’s hotel to check him out formally; he’d gotten his travel bag from the room days ago, when he’d sort of unofficially moved in with Colin, but the room was still in his name. Now they were on the way to the airfield and Colin wasn’t sure if it was the thought of another flight making Ryan reserved and tense, or if it was the sudden and dizzying rush of information Jamie was laying on him. Ryan nodded and smiled thinly, covering Colin’s hand with his own for a moment and squeezing. “Hey, on the Cincinnati hotel arrangements, do you want the same as Detroit, or what?” Jamie asked, one hand covering the mouthpiece of his cell phone headset, the other on the steering wheel. He looked at them in the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised inquisitively. “By same, you mean...?” Colin asked. “Same room, or separate?” “Um.” Colin looked at Ryan and shrugged. “Up to you.” “Oh, well,” Ryan mumbled, one leg jiggling nervously. “I mean... if you don’t mind, it’s probably more... efficient to share, right?” “Sure,” Colin said, ducking his head to hide a smile. “Efficient. Good thinking.” “Got it,” Jamie said briskly. “I’m booking you guys now. You’ll have time to settle in, plan out your show, which isn’t until this evening. I’ll be there by then, but I have to stop off in between for the post-conference evals and to draw up those contracts. You’re doing the all in one blender/juicer, okay? Colin, you know all about it. You can bring Ryan up to speed. It’s a short spot, twenty minutes, live audience, small studio. You’ll need to produce enough for the host and other guests to try, but you won’t need samples for the audience. I’ll have the supplies there and ready by the time the show starts, okay?” They both nodded dutifully and Jamie went back to talking on his cell, pulling into the small airstrip connected to the main commercial airport. Ryan straightened, peering out the window as the hangar came into sight, and he relaxed visibly when he saw the nose of his plane poking out, bright silver in the morning light, sleek and familiar. He hopped out of the car the moment they came to a stop and Colin followed more slowly, watching Ryan approach the plane. He put his hands on the fuselage first, fingers spread wide, and then walked around once, trailing a hand along the full body of the craft. Colin met him by the door after he’d waved Jamie off, assuring him they’d be fine and yes, he’d call if there were any problems. “Ryan?” “Hey,” Ryan said, smiling. “You okay?” Ryan nodded and patted the plane gently. “Sure. She’s just kind of my baby, that’s all. I worry a little about all these places, hangars where I don’t know anyone. I mean, they’re supposed to do the maintenance and make sure to cover her if the weather gets bad and check the fluids and everything, but you can’t know for certain they’re doing all that, can you?” Colin tilted his head to the side, gauging Ryan’s expression, and then placed his palm on the skin of the plane beside Ryan’s. “I’m sure they took care of her,” he said quietly. “Yeah.” Ryan flashed him a quick smile. “But we still need to do the preflight. That’s something you can learn, actually.” “Yay,” Colin said dryly, but he followed along as Ryan walked him around the plane, examining the flaps and struts, checking the connective lines and the hydraulics, making sure there was no damage to the body. They climbed inside and went over the instruments, running the radio through the channels and checking in with the Detroit tower control. They made sure there was enough fuel and that the controls all worked, the flaps and ailerons responding to the foot pedals that Ryan demonstrated for him. “You do this every time?” Colin asked once they’d finished. “It’s required,” Ryan said. “Besides, it’s just a smart idea, for safety purposes. Usually I get to the airport first and do it before you get here, so there’s no delays, but since we came together this time...” Colin nodded. “Right. So, now what?” “Now we run the engines up. All the way to full throttle, make sure they can handle the load.” Ryan stood by the pilot seat, but paused, tossing a speculative look at Colin over his shoulder. Then he settled into the co-pilot side and gestured Colin forward. “Here,” he said. “You’re doing it today.” “Okay,” Colin said slowly, easing into the seat. The view was different from here, and he saw that all the instruments and gauges were tilted to give him the most accurate display, centered on the pilot seat. It was a little like being in the spotlight, actually; everything focused on him. Ryan leaned over, a hand on the back of Colin’s seat, and pointed out the start engine button. Colin pressed it and the engines whirred to life with a rumble, sending a vibration up through the plane that Colin felt in his bones. “Okay,” Ryan said, speaking quietly but inches from his ear, still audible. “The throttle is that stick by your right hand. Slowly push it all the way forward.” “Won’t we start moving if I do that?” Colin asked, glancing nervously at the props to either side. They were still, gleaming with the promise of speed. “No, the engine is disengaged right now. It’s like being in neutral. The props won’t move until you drop it into gear.” Colin nodded and eased the throttle forward, grinning at the immediate rush of power from the engines, coursing through the little craft. The roar became a shriek and he looked at Ryan in alarm, but the other man was just watching him, seemingly calm. “That’s enough,” Ryan said, lips almost brushing Colin’s ear so he didn’t have to shout over the engines. “Take her back down now, let her idle.” Colin shivered at the wash of warm air over his ear and neck, but did as he was asked, the engines subsiding to a low throb. “Wow,” he muttered, a little shakily. “I don’t remember it sounding like that before.” Ryan laughed a little, still so close to his ear, and Colin closed his eyes for a moment. “I don’t take them that high on a regular flight,” Ryan said. “That’s just for testing purposes; in case I do need full power, I want to be sure it’s there.” “Okay.” Colin started to get up, but Ryan pressed him back into the seat with a hand on his leg. “I’m not done with you,” he said, grinning, and the tone of his voice suggested all kinds of things, but Colin wasn’t really paying attention. He was preoccupied with the hand on his thigh, and the ease with which Ryan held him down. “Oh?” Colin asked, squeaking a little. “You’re going to take off.” Colin blinked, staring at the yoke in front of him and the complicated array of tiny dials and switches. He was supposed to work those things and get this big heavy piece of metal into the sky? He turned to Ryan, but the other man was already on the radio, getting clearance for them and being assigned a runway. “Is this a good idea?” Colin asked once Ryan had finished. Ryan shrugged. “I think so. I’ll be right here if you run into problems, and it’s not actually that tricky. Landings are much harder; takeoffs are easy.” “Okay,” Colin said dubiously. “So... how do I start?” Ryan took his hand and directed it to a large switch. Colin flipped it and heard a sort of low thump, and to either side, the props began spinning lazily, slow with the sleepy hum of the engine. Then Ryan’s fingers were wrapped around his wrist, pressing his palm against the throttle, and they ran it up together, a notch at a time. The props whirred into blurred life and the plane rolled forward, clearing the hangar door. Colin looked around as they came into the open, staring wide-eyed at the sky above, littered with planes in the busy commercial airspace. “Feel the foot pedals,” Ryan said, one hand still guiding Colin’s on the throttle, the other on his shoulder, Ryan himself leaning half out of his seat and half into Colin’s. “They have a top part and a bottom part, you feel that?” “I feel it,” Colin said softly, biting his lip. “They’re stiff.” “That’s so you don’t make a sudden change accidentally. The top controls the ailerons, those are the bits on the ends of the wings. They’re for steering. I’ll handle the rudder, don’t worry about that. You want to go left, you push on the top part of the left pedal, and likewise for going right. You get it?” Colin nodded, not quite sure he could handle it, but trusting Ryan to keep them on track. Ryan pressed him a little more on the throttle and they taxied along the tarmac, gaining speed. Then Ryan’s hand was on his right knee, pushing gently, and Colin slowly worked the pedals, grinning in amazement when the plane executed a perfect turn. He let up on the pedal as soon as Ryan released his knee and the plane straightened, just slightly off center on the runway. “Correct for that,” Ryan said, a low rumble in his ear. “Take us just a little to the left, try to get the nose on that center line. We’ve got plenty of room before we need to throttle up, so take your time and get the feel of it.” “Okay,” Colin murmured, one hand still clutching the throttle, the other squeezing Ryan’s hand where it rested on his leg. He tried the other pedal, going too far the first time and sending them swerving to the left. They wobbled a little, the wings tilting alarmingly, but then Colin made another, smaller correction and they came back to an even keel. The nose still wasn’t perfectly aligned, but it was close. “Good,” Ryan said, “that’s good. You’re a natural.” Colin beamed, turning his head to the side to look at Ryan, startled to find his face so close their noses nearly brushed. Ryan met his eyes for a long moment and then looked toward the runway again, Colin following suit a beat later. “Um, is that enough runway?” he asked, seeing the paved area end a few hundred yards ahead of them. “For a plane this small, yeah,” Ryan said. “She wants to be in the air. That’s what my sister always said, the plane wants to fly. That’s why takeoffs are so much easier than landings.” Colin nodded, then jumped slightly when Ryan’s hand slid up his leg, stopping high on his thigh. “Now the flaps,” Ryan murmured. “Both sides, equal amounts. Just a tiny bit, to increase the lift.” Colin did as he was told, and the plane shuddered a little around him, the drag on the wings increasing perceptibly. “Is that what it’s supposed to do?” Colin asked. “You’re forcing more air under the wings than above them,” Ryan told him. “Now the throttle, and pull back on the yoke. Just a little.” He guided Colin, pushing his hand on the throttle almost all the way forward, then putting both their hands on the yoke and pulling. The plane shot forward, pressing Colin back in his seat and Ryan’s shoulder into his chest. The front wheel lifted, skipped, and then touched the ground again, bouncing. The plane weaved slightly, then straightened. “Little more,” Ryan said, pressing Colin’s fingers into the yoke, his breathing fast and shallow in Colin’s ear. “Come on, you want to be in the air, just a little more...” The nose tilted up, their view swinging wildly from ground and horizon and other planes scattered about to nothing but sky. There were a few frightening seconds with the rear wheels still on the ground and air in front of them, revealing nothing about where they were going or how much runway was left, and then the plane lifted smoothly, climbing into the sky with deceptive ease. “Are we flying?” Colin asked, and then felt silly because of course they were flying. “Congratulations,” Ryan said, patting his chest. “You didn’t kill us.” Colin nodded and almost released the yoke, but Ryan quickly pressed his hands back into place. “Not yet,” he said. “I’ll tell you when to let go.” Together, they held the yoke until Ryan pointed out the altimeter and told Colin to level off. At first he was too quick and the nose dipped, but he pulled them back to straight flight without needing to be told. Ryan checked the instruments, then guided Colin on the pedals a little until they were on course. Then he hit the autopilot switch and carefully peeled Colin’s fingers off the yoke. “Wow,” Colin sighed, eying Ryan, who was slumped exhaustedly in the co-pilot seat. “That was incredible.” Ryan nodded and scrubbed a shaking hand over his face, taking a deep breath. “You have a good feel for flight,” he said. “I think you’d learn fast.” “I really like it. The plane is so responsive, you know? It’s like you touch a few little things and zoom, you get this amazing ride.” “Hmm.” Ryan smiled at him, eyes sparkling in a way that made Colin wonder what he was thinking. “What?” Ryan shrugged. “Just you, I guess. You get so... shiny about things.” Colin blinked and touched a hand to his forehead self-consciously. “Is that a bald joke?” he asked, feigning irritation. “No, no,” Ryan said, chuckling. “I can’t quite explain it. It’s like when you were teaching me cooking, or when you get on stage, or just now when you were flying. You light up. You... well, it sounds dumb, but you shine.” He ducked his head, half-hiding an embarrassed smile. Colin stared at him for a long moment, until Ryan met his eyes again, the other man’s cheeks still holding a tinge of pink. Colin tucked a hand inside Ryan’s elbow and squeezed. “That... that really doesn’t sound dumb.” He gave a half-breath of laughter, then swallowed. “It sounds like the nicest thing I’ve heard in... in a long time. Thank you.” Ryan nodded and looked away, taking a deep breath. “Hey, you’re welcome. So, um, this show thing we’re doing. Should I be studying or something?” “I can explain the machine to you,” Colin replied lightly, pulling back and allowing Ryan a moment to regain his cool. “As far as the actual performance, I don’t tend toward rehearsal. It kills the spontaneity of the moment, makes things look dry and practiced. I like to make it up as I go along.” “I’ve noticed that,” Ryan said, smiling slyly. “Does it ever backfire?” “On occasion. I’ve drawn a blank a few times, but usually I can mess up in such a way that it’s still funny. People like it if you aren’t perfect all the time.” Ryan nodded and unfolded himself from the co-pilot seat, dropping onto the couch with a sigh. “So,” he said, waving Colin over. “Tell me about the wonders of juicing.” “Oh, it’s thrilling stuff,” Colin said dryly. “Are you sure you can handle that much excitement?” “I’ll let you know if I need a break to catch my breath.” Colin dug in his travel bag, certain that Jamie would have slipped some of the product information in there before he left. Jamie was thorough that way. He pulled out a few pamphlets and settled on the couch beside Ryan, passing them over. Ryan seemed to take the idea of studying seriously, reading the pamphlets front to back and focusing especially on the suggested recipes. Colin found himself drifting a little, the motion and hum of the plane soothing, Ryan’s warmth and breathing a steady, reliable presence. He shifted against Ryan’s side, letting the touch seep into his skin, warming him through. Ryan moved to accommodate him without being aware of it, and Colin dozed to the sound of his faint murmurs, reading the important parts to himself. He woke to a feeling of falling sideways, a gradual slide, and by the time he opened his eyes he was lying on his back, blinking up at Ryan, who smiled at him. “Morning,” Ryan said. “Mmm. Yeah.” Colin yawned, and then realized he’d slid into Ryan’s lap, his cheek pressed against the other man’s shirt, head on Ryan’s thighs. “Oh,” he said, watching Ryan carefully. “Oh?” “I, uh... slipped.” Colin couldn’t quite resist turning his head a little, letting his cheekbone rub against Ryan’s belly. He was soft there, pliable and smooth in this one place, bony and angular everywhere else. “I see that.” Ryan didn’t seem bothered, still smiling faintly, eyes light and calm. “Better for my back,” Colin suggested, wriggling a little to get more comfortable. “I’ll bet,” Ryan replied. “Can’t be a good idea, sleeping sitting up like you were.” “Yeah.” Colin thought for a moment, and decided if Ryan didn’t mind, he wasn’t moving. He felt perfectly content right where he was. “So. All studied up?” “Well, it is pretty complex material,” Ryan began, lifting the pamphlets as if they were heavy. “Especially the bit where it’s very careful to tell you not to put your fingers in the crushing part. Because I really wouldn’t have known that.” Colin snorted and whapped Ryan in the chest with his knuckles. “Smartass.” “I’ve accepted the smartness of my ass,” Ryan said seriously. “It took years of therapy, but I’ve come to terms.” “Is there a support group for that?” Colin asked. “We should form one.” Ryan’s hand rested on his chest, warm and heavy. “We could be the before and after examples.” “Are you saying my ass isn’t smart?” Ryan snickered, shaking his head. “It’s far too nice to be smart.” Then he frowned, seeming to catch what he’d just said. “I mean... okay, that sounded wrong.” “Sounded all right to me,” Colin said quietly. Ryan shrugged and shifted uncomfortably, and Colin took the hint, sitting up. He dusted his hands together briskly and straightened his shirt. “So. Are we there yet?” “Pretty soon,” Ryan replied. He leaned forward and snagged the radio headset from the co-pilot seat, checking in. Then he sighed and climbed into the cockpit, holding the yoke and turning the auto-pilot off. “Time to land?” “Yeah, you should buckle up.” Ryan paused for a moment, then waved a hand dismissively. “Or not. I mean, if we fall out of the sky, a seatbelt isn’t going to make a hell of a lot of difference.” “You’ll get us down fine,” Colin said, slipping into the co-pilot seat. “And... thanks for letting me fly earlier. I loved it.” Ryan smiled at him, fleeting and sweet, before focusing intensely on their descent. “Yeah, well, I figured you’d do all right.” Colin nodded, settling back in his seat. Ryan had been casual about it, and Colin didn’t want to embarrass him with a lot of gushing thanks, but he had the feeling being trusted enough to fly Ryan’s baby was rare. As they drifted down, Ryan handling the plane like a feather riding the wind, Colin didn’t look out the window. He watched Ryan, who held the plane steady despite his trembling. Ryan, who ran from creepy teenage stalkers with him and made him laugh and who was, after years of looking, an equal on stage, finally someone to play with. Ryan, who was teaching him to fly. ~~~ Their hotel in Cincinnati had a pay by the hour video game console attached to the TV, and Ryan revealed a surprising skill with Mario and his minions. He talked Colin into joining him for a two-player game, and Colin agreed with only a few protestations that he was over forty and video games were silly. Then he joined in with glee, the two of them sitting on the end of the bed, bumping together as they bobbed and weaved with the characters on the screen. Colin gave him a run for his money for a while, but eventually he flopped back on the bed and lifted his hands in surrender. “You got me,” he said. “Clearly you’ve spent way too much time getting good at this.” Ryan snorted and sank down beside him, both their legs hanging off the end of the bed, their sides pressed together, arms overlapping. “What else was I going to do as a teenager? Date?” He made a disparaging noise, waving a hand in the general vicinity of his face. “Why not?” Colin asked, turning and propping his head up on one hand. “You’re funny, you’re easy to talk to...” “I’m too tall, too skinny, and my ass is too smart,” Ryan said, smiling a little. “Besides, the kind of dates I really wanted weren’t exactly coming out of the woodwork in those days.” Colin took a breath, licking his lips nervously. “Oh?” he asked, not quite pulling off the casual tone. “What kind were you looking for?” Ryan stared up at the ceiling silently for a few minutes, but his hand found Colin’s, fingertips tracing lightly over Colin’s palm, curious and tentative. “I guess you already know,” he said eventually, his voice very soft. “Yeah,” Colin replied. “I guess I do.” He curled his hand, capturing Ryan’s fingers and holding them lightly. “I haven’t told a lot of people. In my family... well, it was just best to be quiet about it.” Ryan shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. It was an old, practiced move. “Sara knew.” Colin nodded and squeezed his hand. He felt Ryan’s shoulder move against his as the other man sighed heavily, and then wriggled a little closer. Colin turned toward him, moving carefully, slowly; giving Ryan a chance to pull away. Ryan didn’t. He blinked solemnly as Colin leaned over him, and he looked serene. Ready. “Hey,” Colin whispered. Ryan smiled, small and sweet. “Hey.” Then he tilted his chin up, just so, and Colin took the invitation. It was light at first. Cautious. A faint brushing of Ryan’s lips over his, and then again, a little harder. Ryan laughed and Colin raised an eyebrow questioningly. Ryan just shrugged, his lips still parted, smiling, his eyes dancing. Colin kissed him again and felt Ryan’s arm around his back, pulling him in; felt Ryan’s chest beneath his, slim and banded with wiry muscle and alive, his heartbeat barely perceptible beneath his ribs. Then Ryan was moving, squirming beneath him and Colin found himself tilted, spun in a dizzying rush until the mattress was firm against his back and Ryan was warm and heavy on him, a hand on each of his wrists, holding him in place. Colin grinned and tested the grip, pushing against the strength, biting his lip at the sensation of being overpowered. Ryan laughed again, louder, and leaned down to murmur in his ear. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He followed the question with a kiss to Colin’s throat, making the skin tingle, and Colin shivered. “You have no idea,” Colin promised, and stretched up to kiss him again, adding a little bite. He felt Ryan jerk in surprise, and smiled against his mouth, the tip of his tongue darting out long enough to tease, too fast to catch. Ryan retaliated by shifting, his thigh coming up squarely between Colin’s legs, and Colin’s eyes fluttered shut as he tilted his head back, drawing in a sharp breath. He felt more than heard Ryan’s satisfied chuckle, rumbling where their chests pressed together, and he slipped a hand down, palming Ryan’s ass. Ryan jumped again, startled, and Colin smirked at him. “Gotcha,” Colin said, and Ryan’s eyes widened. “I’m starting to think you do,” he said, swallowing. “Just starting?” A nervous smile flitted across Ryan’s face, and he looked away for a moment. “Colin...” Colin sighed and disentangled their legs, lying on his side with Ryan facing him, an arm still wrapped around his waist. “Too fast?” “Not... exactly. It depends, I guess.” Ryan pressed a hand against his chest, smiling a little at Colin’s rapid heartbeat. “Depends on what?” Colin asked. “If this is... just for fun, then I’d like that. I’d really like that.” Ryan slid a hand down his side, fingers pressing, stroking a little beneath the hem of his shirt. “But if it’s different, if it’s more... I want to be sure, that’s all. I don’t want to mess up something important by rushing.” Colin nodded and touched Ryan’s face, tracing a line from cheek to jaw to chin. “Then let’s not rush.” “Good,” Ryan said, and leaned close, resting his head on Colin’s chest. “Slow is good, too.” “Mmm,” Colin sighed, allowing himself to relax into the warmth Ryan radiated, the easy familiarity. Ryan was already growing heavy and limp in his arms, his breathing lengthening, and Colin thought he was probably worn out from their flight that day. Colin hadn’t realized until they were on the ground that Ryan hadn’t taken his anxiety medication during the flight, and he’d asked about it, but Ryan had ducked the question, claiming he’d forgotten. Colin wondered if he somehow made Ryan feel safer in the air, the way Ryan made him feel more comfortable on stage. He hoped so. He hoped with time, they’d grow so comfortable in each other’s presence that there would be nothing left to be afraid of. ~~~ Their first official show together went well, particularly the bit they’d done inspired by an old camp game Colin remembered. He’d stood behind Ryan and used his hands as if they were Ryan’s to mix up a fresh fruit smoothie, tossing bits of fruit from hand to hand and squeezing a lemon wedge in Ryan’s mouth. He couldn’t see Ryan’s expression after that one, but the audience had cracked up. It had been a simple trick that wouldn’t be practical with more complicated recipes, but for basic stuff, Colin felt sure it was something they could get a lot of play from. Just letting Ryan lick fruit juice from his fingertips on national television had to be enough of a reason to keep doing it. Jamie was there after the show, bundling them into a car and offering to take them out to dinner. “As long as we don’t eat anything with citrus,” Ryan said, contorting his face into an exaggerated pucker. Colin laughed and leaned against Ryan in the backseat, slipping an arm around his waist and squeezing. Ryan squeezed back, but straightened when Jamie looked at them in the rear view mirror, clearing his throat. “I have those contracts ready for you,” Jamie said. “I thought we could have a dinner meeting, go over them, and make sure everything is satisfactory. Ryan, I was able to negotiate for a little more based on your previous experience with stage performance. Why didn’t you mention that sooner, by the way? Would’ve helped pave the way, I didn’t even know about it myself until I did a little background research. Ah, well, found out in time, I suppose.” Ryan nodded, avoiding Colin’s curious gaze. “That’s good,” he muttered. “Ah, here we are,” Jamie continued, pulling into the parking lot of a small, comfortable looking restaurant. “It’s not the most upscale place, but I know how you like to have casual, simple things sometimes, Colin.” He ushered them inside and to a table, spreading paperwork from his satchel out on the table’s surface as soon as they were seated. “Is this it?” Ryan asked, picking up one of the documents. “That’s the contract for your performance, yes. The flight contract won’t be changed, and this one is provisionary, from now until the end of the current tour. At that time it will be open for renegotiation dependent on the success of the tour.” Ryan nodded, his brow furrowed as he read. Colin leaned over his shoulder to read as well, skimming for the pertinent parts. He’d gone through so many contract deals and changes with Kitchen Tech over the years that he knew what to look for, the most important points, and he nodded when he saw the deal Jamie had gotten was more than fair. Maybe Jamie hadn’t warmed up to Ryan right away, but when it became obvious that he was good for the company, Jamie had clearly come around. “This can’t be right,” Ryan said, peering closely at the fine print. “Is this right?” Jamie looked where Ryan was pointing and nodded rapidly. “Yes, that’s what the company agreed to. Now you realize that’s just the commission part of your compensation, a percentage based on sales from your presentations. There’s also a flat rate salary, and another percentage on a per-appearance basis. At this point, I wasn’t able to get you exact equal percentage to Colin because of his greater experience and time with the company, but you have the standard talent initial signing deal, plus a bonus because you’re pairing with one of our most popular presenters. Colin’s raising your stock a bit,” he added, grinning. Ryan looked up, wide-eyed. “This is way too much. I can’t...” He shook his head, giving Colin a helpless look. “This is a normal contract,” Colin said gently, resting a hand on Ryan’s arm. “Believe me, you’re making more for the company than they’re spending on you.” “For playing with you on stage for half an hour, they give me this? It’s insane.” Ryan ran a hand through his hair, and took a deep breath. “This is really okay? Are you sure I’m not ripping anyone off here?” “I’m sure,” Colin replied, biting back a laugh. Ryan looked so genuinely baffled, so endearingly sincere, Colin wanted to kiss him right there in the middle of the restaurant. “It’s fair. Jamie wouldn’t settle for anything else.” Jamie nodded, retrieving a pen from his pocket. “If you feel the terms are reasonable, go ahead and sign. Please keep in mind that this is a short-term deal, and if you find anything unsatisfactory after you’ve signed, you can of course ask for changes when we renegotiate. I’m pretty sure that if you two continue to do as well as you have been, I’ll be able to get you better compensation for the next touring season.” “Better,” Ryan muttered weakly. He gave Colin an incredulous look, but signed anyway, rapid and unintelligible. Jamie had the contracts shuffled back into order and packed neatly away by the time their drinks arrived. “Glad that’s taken care of,” Jamie said briskly. “I always like things official, you know, squared away.” “So,” Colin said, smiling at Ryan over the rim of his glass. “What’s this about previous stage performances?” Ryan ducked his head, fiddling with his napkin. “Nothing, really. Just a few plays and stuff. I didn’t mention them before because it was nothing serious.” “He did several off-Broadway theater performances,” Jamie supplied helpfully. “Mostly musicals, actually.” Colin’s eyebrows went so high they would have met his hairline, if he’d had one. “You can sing?” Ryan shrugged. “A little. I wasn’t the lead or anything, just... the goofy sidekick.” He gave Colin a smile when he said that, sly and amused. “Man.” Colin shook his head, sighing. “That’s not fair at all. I’m a born song and dance guy who can’t sing or dance, and here you are good enough for musicals. Plus you can fly, and you have hair.” “You can cook,” Ryan pointed out, grinning. “And you’re so popular you have stalkers.” Jamie frowned, looking up from his food. “Stalkers?” “Never mind,” Colin said quickly. “He’s kidding. Isn’t he?” he added pointedly, staring at Ryan. Ryan pretended to think about it until Colin kicked him under the table. “Sure I’m kidding,” he said, sharing a conspirator’s smile with Colin. Jamie looked suspicious, but let it go, eating with the same speed and efficiency as he did everything else. Colin assembled his fajitas, offering a tidbit of chicken to Ryan, who nibbled it from the end of his fork. “Tell me what’s wrong with that,” Colin challenged, waving the fork. “Um...” Ryan licked his lips thoughtfully. Colin swallowed, watching. “It’s too dry, I think. Overcooked.” “Very good,” Colin said, nodding. “That’s often a problem in restaurants, I’m afraid. They have to guard so carefully against food borne illnesses that they overcook to be on the safe side.” Ryan spooned a bit of clam from his soup and held it out to Colin, who accepted it obligingly, head tilted to one side, eyes closed as he concentrated on the flavor. When he opened his eyes, Ryan was watching him, smiling faintly, lower lip caught between his teeth. “Not bad,” Colin said, “but too much salt.” Ryan nodded. “I thought so. I’m getting pretty good at this, huh?” “I’d better stop teaching you before you get better than me,” Colin said, mock-frowning. “Eh. Never happen,” Ryan said dismissively. “Here, try this.” He fed Colin a bite of his sandwich, thumbing a dab of sauce from the corner of Colin’s mouth as he pulled away. “Mmm,” Colin said, raising his eyebrows. “Now that’s actually good. The key here is the roast beef; it must be juicy, but not fatty; well roasted but not over salted, and just thick enough to strongly flavor the sandwich, not overpower it.” Ryan chuckled, licking the bit of sauce from his thumb. “Is everything a lesson with you?” “Just trying to expand your mind, grasshopper.” A clink from across the table drew their attention and they found Jamie staring at them, having already finished his own food while they were playing around. Jamie’s eyes drifted down to where their sides were pressed together, shoulders jostling companionably, heads tilted close. “Um,” Ryan said, straightening in his seat. “Excuse me a minute.” He rose from his seat and headed toward the restrooms, shoulders hunched and hands stuffed in his pockets. “So,” Jamie said, giving Colin a hard look. “Still separate beds?” Colin smiled and thought that when he wanted to, Jamie could get to the point quickly. “For the moment, yes,” he answered. “That might change.” “I thought as much.” Jamie sighed and rubbed two fingers over his forehead. “I’m still not entirely happy about that, you know. Relationships with co-workers, especially when you work in the public eye... it’s problematic.” “We’ll be careful,” Colin assured him. “Discreet. And people who work together get involved all the time.” “I’m not saying it can’t work, but Colin, buddy, if what you two just did is your idea of discreet, it’ll be all over the gossip columns by next week.” Colin blinked, feeling a touch of heat rise in his face. “We were just kidding around.” “You were feeding each other.” Jamie laughed a little, shaking his head. “Look, as a friend, I’m happy for you. As your manager, tone it down, okay?” “Okay,” Colin said dutifully, a little embarrassed. Maybe they’d gotten carried away, but it was so easy to touch Ryan, to be close to him. The idea of keeping his distance felt strange and forced. When Ryan came back to his seat, Colin scooted away a little, offering an apologetic smile. Ryan nodded, seeming to understand, and they finished their meals quietly. Jamie filled the space with chatter about their tour schedule, the shows they’d be doing and the points he wanted them to concentrate on with each show. Ryan looked overwhelmed with all the information until he noticed the way Colin just nodded and seemed to let everything roll over him, and then he followed suit, offering Jamie a bland, agreeable smile whenever he paused. “You catch on quick,” Colin murmured to him when they were in the car again, heading back to the hotel. “Don’t worry too much about remembering everything Jamie says. He always repeats the important stuff. A lot.” Ryan nodded, and in the relative privacy of the car, allowed his hand to rest on Colin’s knee. Colin covered the hand with his own, looking out the window and learning by touch, tracing his fingertips over the backs of Ryan’s knuckles and dipping into the soft places between his fingers. He heard Ryan swallow and turned to look at him, meeting his eyes for a long moment. Ryan’s eyes were dark, captivating, and Colin smiled. Suddenly he couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel. ~~~ Ryan walked into the room first, and Colin followed, turning to close the door behind them. When he looked forward again, Ryan was at his front, inches away. Colin swallowed and brought his hands up reflexively, curling his fingers around Ryan’s upper arms, one at a time. “Hi,” he said, a little breathily. Ryan grinned. He took a step forward, backing Colin up. Then another, shuffling a little at a time until Colin’s back ran into the wall. Colin looked up, feeling Ryan’s chest brush against his, the difference in their heights striking from this close. At over six feet tall, Colin was not accustomed to feeling small or vulnerable, but Ryan did that to him. “That wasn’t entirely fair. What you did in the restaurant, with the food--you know I can’t resist anything you feed me.” Ryan’s voice was low, growling. Hypnotic. “You did it too,” Colin pointed out, rather reasonably, he thought. “You started it,” Ryan countered. “And you know better. I bet Jamie yelled at you.” “Jamie never yells,” Colin said. “You know what I mean.” Colin shrugged and laced his fingers behind Ryan’s neck, pulling him a little closer. He could feel Ryan’s breath on his skin, feather light and warm, crisp with the mint he’d had after dinner. Colin could almost taste it. “He wasn’t pleased, and yes, I suppose I should know better. It’s your fault, really.” Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How’s that?” “You’re entirely too tempting. And I’m very bad at temptation.” A slow smile spread across Ryan’s face, and he leaned to the side, murmuring in Colin’s ear, “Seems like you’re very good at it from where I’m standing.” “I should say,” Colin began, catching himself when his voice threatened to crack, “that I’m bad at resisting temptation. I am a chef, after all, and fine food is all about indulgence.” “Ah,” Ryan replied, nuzzling a little at the line of Colin’s jaw, the sensitive place just below his ear. “Indulgence. Sounds good.” “Mmm, it is,” Colin agreed. He slid one hand down to Ryan’s waist, then up again, beneath his shirt. Ryan’s skin was smooth, nearly hairless, warm and resilient under his palm. “The best recipes are always rich and satisfying. Decadent, even.” Ryan nodded and squirmed when Colin’s fingertips traced the edge of one nipple, not quite touching it. He put a hand at Colin’s side, dipping his fingers along the edge of his pants, skating just a under the cloth. Colin splayed his hand out over Ryan’s chest, feeling the heartbeat within, fluttering like a trapped bird. “You like this,” Colin said, his words muffled against Ryan’s collarbone. He hadn’t been able to resist a taste where the skin peeked out from his shirt, sleek and inviting. “How could you tell?” Ryan asked, half-laughing, and he shifted, allowing his hips to bump against Colin’s. Colin grinned, and thought he probably looked like the cat that’d gotten the cream. “Well, I’d say that’s a good sign you’re happy to see me,” he teased, and Ryan ducked his head, hiding his face in Colin’s shoulder for a moment. “Yeah, you got me,” he said, a little embarrassed. “Good,” Colin replied, and he put his knuckles under Ryan’s chin, lifting his face so their eyes met. “Good,” he said again, softly. Ryan blinked once, his eyes dark with widely dilated pupils, his hands squeezing Colin’s waist. “Really?” he asked, not quite joking. Colin kissed him, one hand cupping his cheek, fingertips stretching to his neck, holding him steady. His other arm wrapped around Ryan’s back, still beneath his shirt, gathering as much sensation as he could. Ryan’s skin was addictive, the taste and feel of it something that filled him and left him wanting more all at once. “Yes,” Colin said when he’d pulled back. “Really.” Ryan smiled and hugged him, fierce and impulsive, peppering rapid kisses on his face and neck. Colin caught his breath when Ryan bit him lightly, just barely enough to sting, then soothed the place with another kiss, soft and lingering. He brought both hands to Ryan’s hips and pulled them fully into contact, letting Ryan feel what he had, what they both had. Ryan made a sound very much like a moan and clutched him closer for a moment, but then he pushed back, taking three tottering steps and bracing himself against the back of the couch for balance. “Ryan?” “Sorry,” Ryan said, breathing hard, his face flushed. “Sorry, I... I had to stop then, or not stop at all.” Colin nodded, leaning against the wall and scrubbing a hand over his face. “Still too soon, huh?” “Sorry,” Ryan repeated. Colin went to him, taking his hand and guiding him around the front of the couch so they could sit down together. He tugged Ryan close, encouraging him to rest his head on Colin’s shoulder. He ran his fingers through Ryan’s hair and sat quietly until their breathing had slowed. “It’s okay,” Colin murmured after a while. “I shouldn’t be pushing so much.” “No, no... I like it. I like that you want this. I guess it’s just...” Ryan spread his hands, shrugging. “Maybe it’s hard to believe.” “Believe what? That I’m attracted to you? I thought that was pretty obvious,” Colin said, a little sheepishly. “That’s part of it,” Ryan admitted. “I mean, you have actual groupies. You could have so many people lining up, just like that. I guess I don’t see why...” Colin shook his head, giving Ryan an incredulous look. “You have to ask? Ryan, those people don’t know me at all. They get attached to some on-screen image, this... this fake character I have to put on and they think they want him, but that guy doesn’t exist. He’s lights and makeup and... lies, I guess. And I have to be that with everyone, even Jamie a little, I have to put on an act and give people what they want to see. You’re the only one that I get to be myself around. The only one who thinks that’s enough.” He paused, wincing at how high his voice had gotten. “Um, if... if that makes any sense.” “I think it does,” Ryan said quietly. He tucked his hand into Colin’s, lacing their fingers together, stroking the pad of his thumb against Colin’s palm. Colin looked down at their hands, and closed his eyes for a long moment. “We’re good together,” he said. “And not just on stage; I never meant that was the only way we were good. I think you knew that.” “I wasn’t sure,” Ryan said, “but I hoped.” He cleared his throat, shifting a little on the couch. “What, um... what other ways are we good?” Colin smiled at him and leaned over, kissing him, sweet and familiar. “All of them.” “Oh,” Ryan said, and then kissed him back. Kissed him until Colin was lying back on the couch, Ryan over him, close enough for Colin to feel the flickering touch of the other man’s eyelashes on his cheek, enough to feel the weight of Ryan on him, the bright, barely contained energy in every inch of his body. “Oh,” Colin echoed, out of breath again. Ryan’s hand was at his waist, tugging at the fastening to his pants, and Colin covered the hand with his own, meeting Ryan’s eyes. “Are you sure?” “Depends,” Ryan said, smiling, his eyes full of laughter and something else, something stronger. “On what?” “On if you can catch me.” And he was up and away, vaulting over the back of the couch and running pell-mell for the bedroom, whooping laughter. Colin shouted and tumbled off the couch, scrambling to his feet. He dashed into the bedroom and paused, frowning at the empty, neatly made beds. Then there was a rustle from behind him and Ryan burst out from behind the door, arms outstretched. Colin felt himself caught around the waist and propelled, his feet half stumbling and half skidding, the bed catching him in the backs of his knees. He landed on the mattress hard enough to bounce and there was Ryan, beaming at him, nearly glowing in the late afternoon sunlight from the sliding glass doors. “Gotcha,” Ryan said, and Colin smiled because that was their word now, part of the tradition they were building, part of the ever more familiar game. “Yeah,” he said, “you do.” He reached up to Ryan, pulling him close, then spun and pinned him, laughing at the way Ryan’s eyes went wide with surprise, then narrowed deviously. Colin sat back on Ryan’s thighs, holding him in place while his hands were busy with shirt buttons. He undid his own until Ryan knocked his hands away with an eager, “Let me.” Colin obliged, his hands on Ryan’s shirt in return, pushing it off his shoulders once he had it open. Ryan lifted up and Colin tossed the shirt aside, then brought his hands immediately back to Ryan’s skin, unable to stay away for long. He leaned over to taste, first the throat, the prominent Adam’s apple, the slim line of Ryan’s collarbone, skin stretched taut above it. Ryan wriggled and twisted, giggling at the sensation, and his hands wrapped around Colin’s hips, tugging him a little higher. Colin met his eyes for a long moment and licked his lips, loving the way Ryan tracked the movement, his own lips parted and his eyes intent. Colin stretched out, pulling Ryan until they were both on their sides, chests together, bodies touching all the way down. Ryan’s eyes closed and he arched forward, bucking against Colin’s thigh twice before catching himself. He took a deep breath and rested trembling hands on Colin’s back, moving constantly, seeming to savor the feeling of bare skin. “What do you want to do?” Colin whispered. Ryan looked at him, arms strong around his back, holding him as if he had no intention of letting go. “I want...” He closed his eyes and smiled. “I want to fly.” ~~~ Since they’d begun sharing a room, Colin had wondered what it would be like to share a bed with Ryan. Would he sprawl, stealing the covers and leaving a bare corner for Colin to curl on? Would he toss and turn with the same restless energy that possessed him while he was awake? Would he be clingy, hot and suffocating? When he woke late that evening, Colin found that Ryan was a little of all those things. He sprawled, yes, but he shared the covers, and his lanky form somehow folded around Colin, making space for him. He twitched a little, one leg giving the occasional jiggle, but it reminded Colin of lying in bed with his much loved childhood pet, a big old cat who’d been partial to long evening baths. The movement was soothing and familiar, and reminded him he wasn’t alone. Ryan radiated heat, but not so much that it was stifling, and his arms were wrapped around Colin, but it was easy and comfortable and Colin thought he could drift off again with no effort at all. It occurred to him, as he watched Ryan sleep, that he ought to get something nice for Jamie. If it wasn’t for his manager, he’d never have even met Ryan, after all. It was amazing how fast things had changed. Frightening, almost, because if he could get everything he wanted so quickly, he could lose them again just as fast. The thought made him want to burrow against Ryan, to close his eyes and stop time for a while. To stay exactly where he was. Of course, it was silly to be paranoid. There was no reason to think he’d lose anything; it was just that he’d never before had so much to lose. A performance partner that brought the joy back into his job, someone he could rely on, someone who made him feel stronger by his mere presence. And now, someone to share all those things he’d worked so hard for. Someone who knew who he was, and didn’t want him to be anyone else. Colin knew, realistically, that this was just beginning. That he’d known Ryan for less than two weeks and planning the rest of his life around the man was jumping the gun, but he couldn’t help believing it. He found himself picturing a day ten, fifteen years down the road, both of them old and gray, Ryan finally starting to lose some of that damn hair and no longer allowed to tease him about his own baldness. Not that that would stop him. He imagined them on his porch swing in winter, a home by a lake, the water iced over and pristine, the world white and new around them. They were bundled beneath a shared blanket, swinging in slow, comfortable quiet. Perfectly content. He could even see the hangar built beside the house, Ryan’s plane housed safely inside, and a dirt airstrip in the backyard so they could take off whenever they pleased, free to fly. Later they would go in, and Colin would make lunch, Ryan sneaking up behind him to steal bites of food and kisses, often using one as a distraction for the other. Colin would scold and wave a mixing spoon threateningly and Ryan would pretend to be chastised, but the laughter in his eyes would give him away, as it always did. And Colin would smile and tell him if he was going to be underfoot, he might as well help make the food, and Ryan would slip in beside him and dig in because that was what he’d wanted all along. Colin laughed a little, shifting on the bed, amused by the depth of his daydream. It had always been a silly fantasy, growing old with someone he loved, finding that perfect companion. It was a flight of fancy, not something that could actually happen. Except now it could, Colin thought, and he smiled. There were no guarantees, but it was more possible now that it had ever been, and for now, that was enough. Colin kissed Ryan’s lips, soft and giving in sleep, and Ryan shifted a little, smiling faintly. Colin took a deep breath, savoring the already familiar scent of Ryan’s skin, and let his eyes drift shut. He was still smiling when he fell asleep. ~~~ Fin January 7 – 17, 2006