Title: Frozen Author: Clay Pairing: Ryan & Colin (Col’s POV) Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for lots of kissing and a little bit of cursing Summary: A night of improv turns into something more Author’s notes: This is inspired by the game Freeze/Freeze Tag (I’ve seen it called both) and a report of something that happened between shows during an improv all stars show. Also, I apologize for greatest hits. I’m no song writer. ^_^ Oh, and I do believe I’m taking liberties with Freeze Tag, but not enough that it should disturb anyone greatly. Washington really is a beautiful state. Now that Whose Line is over and our careers were slowed a bit, the guys and I had taken to doing live shows. I loved them all, but the ones on the west coast were always the most fun. I considered those northern states just as much my home as Canada, but what gave me the most joy is the fact that Ryan would be there. This night was one of those shows. It looked to be a lot of fun since we were playing with one of my favorite line ups. Other than Ryan and myself there was Brad, Chip, Greg, and Jeff. If only Drew had been there it would have been perfect, though we all know improv’s never been his forte. The first game of the night was Freeze Tag. To be honest, it’s not one of my favorite games. It’s not quite as restrictive as some of the ones I’ve played over the years, but it’s always intimidated me just a bit. After all, I’ve been frozen into some pretty uncomfortable positions. Normally I would try to sit it out as long as possible, only coming in when someone, usually Brad or Jeff, dragged me into it. It started with Ryan calling on audience members for suggestions for non-sexual positions to put Greg and Brad into. They got off pretty easy. Being the first game of the night, the crowd wasn’t quite warmed up yet. Brad ended up sitting, Greg skiing. The game went quickly from there. Greg “skied” his way over to Brad, attempting to rescue him from the snow bank he was stuck in. He reached a hand down to help Brad up when Chip called out “Freeze!” They stilled instantly, Brad’s left hand held loosely in Greg’s right with Brad down on one knee. The position alone had the audience giggling. Brad was smiling up at Greg tightly, desperate not to laugh himself. There were a few cracks about Brad proposing to Greg before Chip tagged Greg out, replacing him and continuing the scene as a mother teaching her baby to walk. We were all a little hyper just then. The tour had been going well. We hadn’t had a show in a week and even after that short time, I could tell that we all missed it, missed each other and were eager to play. We had two shows lined up for the evening with a half hour break between. We were sure to be exhausted before the night was over, so we’d all consumed far too much caffeine that afternoon in an attempt to be awake and active. It was going to be a damn fun night. The game went on with everyone but me jumping in at least once. Greg was in the middle of giving Ryan a particularly disturbing lap dance when Chip caught my eye. He was prepared to pull me into the game kicking and screaming if necessary, so I decided to screw it all and jump in before he had the chance. “Freeze!” Ryan and Greg paused, Greg’s ass pressed neatly against Ryan’s crotch. Twin looks of amusement adorned both their faces. I took a careful step forward, smiling ever so slightly before affecting a look of deep hurt. “Just what is going on here?” I asked, crossing toward them, arms folded across my chest. My jaw dropped, hands fluttered to my hips as I circled them, taking in the awkward position. “Are you cheating on me, Ryan?” I should have made a more dramatic change to the scene, but it was the first thing that came to mind. There was a mixture of “Awws” and laughter from the audience, and I could see Brad giggling quietly off to my right. I finished my circuit, barely managing to keep a straight face when I met Ryan’s eyes. He was biting his lower lip to keep from laughing. The bright state lights twinkled in his eyes. “Oh no!” Greg scooted away from Ryan quickly, back stepping across the stage, hands lifted defensively. “I didn’t know he had a wife!” I threw Greg a sweet, sardonic smile and then turned my attention back to Ryan. I flipped a lock of imaginary hair over my shoulder, crossing my arms once again and pouting. “Am I not good enough for you?” I asked, spinning away and hugging myself tightly. “Oh, baby, no.” I felt Ryan approach me more than heard him. His hands lighted on my shoulders and gave them a quick squeeze. “She means nothing to me!” he whispered fiercely. “Ha!” I shouted, pulling away and turning back to face him. I jabbed one finger at his chest and then paused, having absolutely no idea where I was going with this. Ryan opened his mouth to speak and then paused, shaking his head. “Ha?” he asked, grinning. “Yes, ha,” I told him. “Is this funny?” “Well….” I stretched the word out in an attempt to buy time to think. Finally I took a step back, swinging my arms wide in exasperation. “What am I supposed to say when I find you having an affair with the neighbor’s dog?” That had a mixed response from the audience. I ignored them as best I could as well as Greg’s answering bark, which seemed to gain much more laughter. “She means nothing to me!” Ryan declared once again, striding quickly forward to grasp my forearms. “You’re the only one for me.” “But I caught you with your pants down!” I gestured vaguely at Ryan’s legs, and he grinned sheepishly, miming pulling up and zipping his pants. “And what’s with the tiara?” Ryan lifted a hand to his head and then paused, smiling. “Don’t I look pretty?” “Pretty?” I yelled, “You’re having an affair and the only thing you can say to me is ‘Don’t I look pretty?’ I can’t even look at you right now!” I spun away, but Ryan turned me back. “No, sugar buns, please don’t go!” he cried, “How can I make it up to you?” I pretended to think about that a moment, running my gaze down the length of Ryan’s body. “Get a sex change.” Completely seriously he mimed gaining large breasts. “Done.” “Oh, darling!” I cried, overjoyed, throwing myself at him and hugging him tightly. He squeezed me back for just a moment before laying his hands on my shoulders to push me away gently. “Kiss me, baby.” The crowd loved that. We leaned toward each other, lips pursed, but hesitated when we were little more than an inch away. I think we both expected to be frozen like that, but after only a second it was clear that they guys were allowing this to continue, seeing how we would handle it. Ryan shrugged and closed the distance between us, pressing his lips lightly against mine. The second before it happened, I realized what they were going to do. Just as Ryan kissed me, I tried to pull back, but his hands were still on my shoulders, holding me in place. And so it was that the moment his lips touched mine someone yelled “Freeze!” The audience was going nuts. Greg and Chip started to mill about, commenting, but not actually joining the scene, leaving us frozen in place. So Ryan and I stood there with our lips locked and waited. And waited. Pretty soon we both had a case of the giggles. Ryan smiled against my lips and I chuckled in return. Practically a minute passed, and still no one dared continue the scene. They were barely even commenting now, just enjoying the awkward situation. It was then that I got the craziest urge. Actually, I had considered doing it before, but either the moment just wasn’t right or I chickened out at the last second. This night I was going to do it. I don’t know if it was the adrenaline or my earlier infusion of caffeine that prompted it, and at that moment I really didn’t care. I had to. My lips parted almost imperceptibly. I slipped my tongue between them and carefully, slowly licked Ryan’s lower lip. He gave a start, but keeping with the rules of the game, did not move. He blinked at me for a moment before smiling once again. His smiled grew even wider as he opened his mouth and did the same to me, sliding his tongue over my bottom lip. My breath caught in my throat then, a rush of dizziness making me sway. Ryan’s hands tightened on my shoulders to steady me, and all I could think was “What the Hell was that?” I also had the distinct impression that someone had caught at least a bit of our movements as Greg faltered slightly in his current comment. That, however, was nothing more than background fodder to me at the time. I was far more focused on the fact that my heart seemed to have skipped a beat, causing just the slightest pang in my chest. Ryan was still smiling at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were dark, confused, and I swear to God I saw the barest hint of lust in their depths. The guys were growing bored with the lack of action and just to my left I saw Jeff approaching us, arm outstretched toward Ryan. I don’t know why I did it. I can’t even tell you for sure what I was thinking at that moment, only that it had something to do with the irrational fear that Jeff was going to take Ryan away from me. I kissed him. Yes, we were already kissing, but despite the play it was still just a stage kiss. I fixed that. I brought my hands up to clutch at the front of his shirt. The cotton was warm from our shared body heat. I pressed my lips against his, hard, and slid my tongue into his mouth between his still parted lips. He responded without hesitation, opening up to me, his tongue grazing mine. I closed my eyes, wanting to get lost in the sensation. I wasn’t thinking clearly; I doubt I was thinking at all. I was running on pure instinct. On lust. Need. I leaned into him, pressing our chests together, trapping my hands between us, fingers digging into his shirt. His hands slid around my shoulders to press against my back with open palms, the slight pressure encouraging me to get closer, though I don’t think that was possible. I tried anyway. My hands released their death grip on his shirt only to slide around his waist and regain their hold at his sides. Another wave of dizziness washed over me and I realized I had forgotten to breathe. This thought led to the recollection that we were on stage in front of hundreds of strangers. I jerked back with enough force to break his hold on me. A few seconds passed as we just stared at each other. Ryan’s lips were red, his cheeks flushed. There was a roaring in my ears, and it took me a moment to realize it was the thunderous applause of the crowd. Quickly I tried to regain some sense of composure. I offered Ryan a small smile. He didn’t return it. Unsurprisingly, this signaled the end of the game. Ryan and I were getting some pretty strange looks as we all moved to the back of the stage, and Jeff introduced the next game. We formed a sort of line against the back wall, facing the audience. Ryan stood next to me; I could feel his heat along the length of my body and shivered slightly. “What was that all about?” I looked up, startled. Brad, on my other side, was watching me warily, one hand shielding his mic. “I...” I shook my head, looked away only to catch a slight movement out of the corner of my eye as Ryan stilled beside me. I turned back to Brad and shrugged, smiling and placing a hand over my own mic. “Got caught up in the game.” I was going for nonchalance, but I’m afraid it came out closer to terrified. “Caught up?” Greg snorted, approaching us. There was an answering murmur from the crowd along with a few catcalls, and I noticed Greg wasn’t covering his microphone. I believe I muttered something along the lines of “yeah,” though how I made my mouth work I couldn’t say. Honestly, I was trapped in my own thoughts. I had enjoyed that kiss a little too much. I’d never felt like this after kissing Ryan before, albeit all our previous interactions had been merely stage kisses with very little actual contact. But he was my best friend, not to mention a man, and all I could think was how I wanted to kiss him again. An answering peal of laughter tore me from my reverie. Greg was smirking at me, one brow raised smugly. “Something you two aren’t telling us?” It was like a dam broke. Suddenly Ryan strode between us, blocking Greg from my view. “For God’s sake, it was just a kiss,” he hissed. I couldn’t see his face, but his shoulders were shaking. Oddly enough, he still seemed to have the presence of mind to cover his microphone despite his obvious anger. Greg didn’t respond. I couldn’t see him around Ryan, so I wouldn’t be able to say for sure, but I imagined he was glaring right back at Ryan, eyebrows raised in annoyed disbelief. For a few moments neither moved. Most likely they were having some sort of staring contest. Ryan’s shaking had subsided, leaving him unnaturally still. My gaze drifted down his back. The cotton of his shirt was wrinkled where my hands had been. “Hello? Helloooooo?” Ryan, Greg, Brad, and I all started. I looked up to see Jeff watching us worriedly. Two volunteers were ascending the stage. Right. We were in the middle of a show. We all plastered smiles on our faces and the games continued. It wasn’t that hard to continue on as though nothing had happened. We’d dealt with the occasional, though not often, disagreements, learning to ignore them until a more appropriate time. I’d always considered it a rather beneficial skill. After all, through the course of the games the anger usually faded, and by the end of a taping or stage show both parties were most likely spouting apologies, and all was forgiven. This night was no different. Game followed game, and soon Ryan and Greg were laughing and joking without a hint of the malice from earlier. By the time Greatest Hits rolled around, we were all in high spirits once again. When Ryan set up the stools, however, I was torn knowing that Greg would be seated between us. Ryan and I hadn’t been paired together in a game all night; we hadn’t even spoken, which was very, very strange. I often enjoyed the time between games most of all on any given evening solely for the chance to spend time with him. I loved talking to Ryan: commenting about life, the other players or even something as banal as the weather. Once you know someone as long as we’ve known each other, the words don’t mean nearly as much as simply being in one another’s presence. We rarely see each other these days outside of work. It’s part of why I enjoy doing these tours so much. So it was that despite the awkwardness, I was practically kicking myself when we all seated ourselves for Greatest Hits. I’d wasted nearly an hour keeping my distance from my best friend. I vowed then to forget the kiss. I wasn’t about to throw away the best thing that ever happened to me over one awkward moment. I couldn’t forget it, though. Greg made sure of that. Greatest Hits began well. We had regained a bit of the energy from before and our banter, as well as Chip, Brad and Jeff’s songs had the audience doubled over in laughter. We decided to do one last song. I was out of ideas and was just letting Ryan and Greg talk for the moment. “I’m sure you don’t know this,” Greg was saying, “but I’m really a big softy at heart.” “Are you now?” Ryan replied. “Oh, yeah.” Greg leaned forward in his seat, facing the audience. I could tell he was really getting into it. “I’ve always loved a nice 80's rock ballad, and my favorite one happens to be on this cd. I’m sure you know it,” he finished, turning back to Ryan. “I do?” Ryan was smiling now, wondering what kind of joke was about to be played at his expense. After all, we were doing ‘songs of the plumber.’ “Yeah,” Greg replied. He smirked at Ryan before once again facing the audience, wistful remembrance written all over his face. “It was 1984, and you had just called Colin and I over to help fix your toilet....” I laughed to myself then. Ryan and I hadn’t even known Greg in 1984, not that it mattered to the game. My smile dropped as Greg’s words hit me; he had said “Colin and I.” What did I have to do with this? “There was a song playing on the radio as we tried to plunge your toilet. Just then, you and Colin’s hands brushed over the handle of the plunger. You were still for just a moment... and then you kissed.” The audience was dying, but Greg wasn’t finished yet. He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye and sighed. “It’s such a beautiful memory.” Suddenly he perked up, looking quickly back and forth between Ryan and myself. “Why don’t you reenact it for us?” “Oh, I don’t–“ Ryan began, but his words were drowned out by the audience as they started up a near deafening chant of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Annoyance flickered in Ryan’s eyes, but he was startled out of it by Greg joining in the chant. Soon Brad, Chip, and Jeff had all joined in as well. I met Ryan’s eyes around Greg. It looked like we weren’t going to get out of this one. I gave him an encouraging smile as we both slowly lifted ourselves from our stools, and he crossed in front of Greg to stand before me. It was only a game, I told myself, and we were professionals. As I placed my hands around an imaginary plunger, the piano sprang to life, and Chip began the first line fo the song. They were never given an actual title, but that didn’t seem to hinder them. ”Went over your house around two a.m....” he sang, crooning to the audience in some undefinable but highly amusing accent. ”... the toilet was clogged, you see...” With those words the tension between Ryan and I faded just the slightest bit. He smiled, remembering this was, in fact, a game. I lifted my eyebrows at him, moving my hands up and down, 'plunging the toilet' as sensually as one could. "... It was far too late to call a plumber, but you were more than willing to help me..." My motions continued as Chip stepped back and Jeff took his place. "I took hold of your plunger and shoved it in..." Ryan pulled the plungers from my grasp, running one hand along the handle suggestively before plunging it down with an audible groan. "... Girl, it was paradise..." I couldn't help but laugh as Ryan continued his ministrations, grunting and groan while leering at me. "... You stood for a moment just watching me. My grip on that shaft had you mesmerized..." As Brad jumped forward to sing his verse, I continued to play out the scene. I raked my eyes down the length of Ryan's body. My tongue darted out to lick my lips. I was already moving toward Ryan as Brad began to sing. "You took back the plunger. Your hand grazed mine..." I mimed closing my fingers around the handle of the plunger. One hand "accidentally" brushed against Ryan's, and I wrapped my hand around his. We both stilled, our eyes meeting. The shock was written so plainly across his face that I had a hard time remembering it was all an act. "... My heart skipped a beat..." My hand tightened around Ryan's fist. His shocked expression melted into one of confusion. He, like I, was mostly likely trying to decipher if we were still playing. "... You dropped the plunger and kissed me hard..." There was the slightest hesitation as Ryan and I simply stood and stared at each other. There was a tension in the hand beneath mine. Suddenly he ripped his hands away from mine, throwing the plunger to the ground. In the next heartbeat his palms were against my cheeks, cradling my jaw. He hesitated once again, long enough that I was sure he was going to back out until finally, slowly, he brought his lips to mine. It seemed to take forever, though it couldn't have been more than a few seconds as Brad had yet to sing the last line of his verse. He could have been waiting on us, though. The whole audience seemed to have gone quiet as if holding one great collective breath. This time it was nothing more than a stage kiss, mouths closed, lips pressed firmly together for just a moment. That didn't stop the fact that it still felt far too good. He pulled back and our eyes met. As opposed to our last kiss when I couldn't wrap my mind around a singled thought, now my brain was going a mile a minute. Ryan was looking at me very strangely. I desperately wished I could read his mind. I wanted to pull him off the stage right then, screw the rest of the show, and figure out just what the Hell was going on. At the same time I was attempting to figure out a way to just forget the whole thing and never mention it again. Needless to day I missed the rest of the song staring into Ryan's eyes. Just as the last chords were fading away he blinked and leaned toward me to whisper, "I think we need to talk." I know I paled when he said that. Even though I had been hoping for just that opportunity only moments before, I had no idea what I would say. At least he didn't look angry. We still had our encore game to play before the break in shows. I floated through it, the lines coming instinctually, though I'm sure they weren't some of my best. We left the stage to a standing ovation, yet again bringing back the giddiness that was getting us through the night. We all met up back stage chatting excitedly. I was quieter than usual, having quite a bit on my mind, but not by much; I've always found these guys infectious. We weren't allowed to smoke in the building, and I was dying for a cigarette. My nerves were shot all to Hell, and when my eyes met Ryan’s across the green room, I knew I would need one just to keep up my courage. Without a word we moved in unison to the small balcony just outside the green room. Greg was there, and already a dozen girls were crowded in the street below , begging for autographs and trying to make conversation. Greg was ignoring them, seated in a plastic chair as far from the railing as he could get. When he saw us, he stared for a while, his eyes meeting mine, unreadable. His mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to speak, but then he shut it and shook his head. “It’s too noisy for me out here,” he declared, stubbing out his cigarette and heading back inside. I smiled at him gratefully. Sure, Greg could be an ass at times, but he really was a good friend. He was giving Ryan and I the alone time we so desperately needed. I took Greg’s vacated seat. Ryan sat beside me. We pulled out cigarettes and lighters, taking the first few drags with the subtle hum of traffic and the chatter of the girls the only sounds. I was lighting another cigarette when Ryan was only half finished his. I was nervous and smoking far too quickly, inhaling deeply and hoping the smoke would calm my nerves. It wasn’t working. The click of my lighter seemed to startle Ryan. He gave a little jump and turned to me as though he’d forgotten I was there. We watched each other a moment before he asked, “Did something happen out there?” “I...” I looked down at the smoldering end of my cigarette, absently flicking ash from the tip. I wanted to say no, to reassure him that everything was fine and could go on as usual. I couldn’t. “I don’t know.” I could feel his eyes on me, watching, studying. “Why did you do that?” “Kiss you?” I asked, still not meeting his gaze. “I don’t know.” I was silent another moment and then said, “Why did you kiss me back?” “I don’t know.” The answer was hesitant and lacking in emotion, but the next moment Ryan gave a harsh laugh, and I looked up to see him raking a hand through his hair. “This isn’t getting us anywhere,” he said quietly, smiling, though his tone was bitter. “Is there anything we do know?” “I don’t know.” The moment the words were out of my mouth I wanted to kick myself. I sounded so stupid. Ryan didn’t seem to notice, though. He rubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray between us and pulled himself out of his seat, striding quickly to the edge of the balcony to look at the city beyond. “It just felt so good.” We had unconsciously been keeping our voices down, looking for the illusion of privacy despite the fans swarming twenty feet below us. When Ryan said that, however, he was leaning over the railing, clearly visible and speaking loudly enough for me to hear him where I still sat. I wasn’t the only one. There was half a second’s pause in the excited chatter below before it doubled in volume. I blanched. I wasn’t sure if they knew exactly what Ryan was referring to, but I wasn’t about to take any chances. This was a private conversation and it was going to damn well stay private. Ryan, lost in his own thoughts, didn’t seem to notice the change in atmosphere. He continued, almost as if talking himself, though no quieter. “Why? It’s not like we’ve never kissed before.... this just... it felt so...” “Ryan!” I practically shouted his name, rushing toward him and grasping his forearm. I startled him into silence and he looked at me in confusion. “Kiss him!” The shout was followed by others, growing louder and more frequent, and I watched as realization dawned on Ryan’s face, followed quickly by anger. He threw a look of deep disgust at the girls below. It wasn’t that he disliked the fans, quite the opposite in fact. He wasn’t a patient person, however, and audience members calling out to him in the middle of a scene always seemed far too close to being heckled in his early days of standup. He was having a similar reaction to the girls now, though even less forgiving than usual. “Do you mind?” he shouted back rather nastily. A few of the girls quieted down, but the bolder ones simply grew more insistent. They began to color their words with sexual innuendo, only making Ryan angrier. “We’re not their fucking puppets,” he snarled, fists clenched, knuckles white. “Ryan,” I said again, softer this time. I tugged at his sleeve gently in an attempt to pull him out of view. He would have none of it. He jerked his arm away, leaning back over the railing, both fists curled around the painted metal. “Why don’t you get a life and leave us the fuck alone?” “Ryan, stop it,” I said, much more forcefully now. I grabbed hold of him again, turning him toward me as I looked apologetically to some of the more sensitive fans. He allowed me to turn him, though still refused to leave the edge of the balcony. He was nearly shaking with rage, and I was not in a state to handle that. I sighed very deeply and closed my eyes. This wasn’t the way I had imagined this talk going. Suddenly I remembered the cigarette in my hand and lifted it to my lips, drinking in the smoke like wine. “Could I get a drag on that?” I opened my eyes and saw Ryan nod to the cigarette. Without a thought I passed it to him, watching him inhale. A chorus of “awws” came from the more outspoken girls. There was a flicker of annoyance in Ryan’s eyes, so I smiled at him and said, “They get excited over the weirdest things.” I was rewarded with the faintest hint of an answering smile. It was good to see. I’ve always loved being able to cheer him up. The girls were starting to get riled up again, however, and the smile didn’t last. What those scant seconds of amusement told me was that Ryan was probably not as angry as he appeared. It was more likely the confusion and frustrations of the evening manifested and redirected. It wouldn’t take much to calm him down. I put a goofy smile on my face, leaning over the balcony as Ryan had just done. I scanned the crowd until I found two of the more obnoxious girls. I pointed to them, letting out a high pitched squeal. “Kiss her! Kiss her!” I called, waving my arms excitedly and giving a little jump. The girls blinked up at me and laughed. One stepped forward and called back, “I will if you kiss Ryan!” “No, no,” I shook my head, widening my eyes as though distraught. “Kiss her please! No, wait!” I began patting myself down and searching through my pockets. “Can I have your autograph? Oh my God, I have no paper!” I searched for a moment longer and then mimed ripping my shirt open to answering applause and whistles. I thrust my chest forward. “Sign my breasts– with your tongue!” More whistles and a burst of laughter rose up from below. Ryan was chuckling beside me. He lay a hand on my back and I turned to see a genuine smile on his lips. “I love you, Col.” I grinned back. “I love you, too, Ry.” The awws and now familiar chant of “Kiss him!” began again, so I went with it, grinning maniacally and hopping up and down. “Oh my God! Ryan Stiles! I love you so much!” The fangirlish enthusiasm had Ryan giggling again, even as he lay a hand on my shoulder to still me. “No, wait, Col–“ “Oh my God! He touched me!” I squealed and lifted one hand to my forehead, pretending to faint. “Colin?” There was something in his voice. I straightened, immediately dropping the act. “I meant that,” he was saying, quieter, though I’m sure the girls could still pick up his words. “I really do love you.” Despite the sudden pang in my chest, I refused to get my hopes up. God, I didn’t even know I had hopes. “I love you, too. Really.” It was said slowly but firmly. “You’re my best friend.” “No, I mean yes, but...” He stepped up to me so that we were toe to toe, reaching for me and then realizing he still held the last of my cigarette. He dropped it and stubbed the remains out beneath the heel of one shoe, and then grasped my forearms. He looked into my eyes, and I swear I’ve never seen him look more serious than he did at that moment. He licked his lips nervously and continued, “I can’t imagine my life without you. You are my best friend. You’ll always be my best friend. I just... I think I want....” He trailed off. I was about to supply the word “more,” but stopped just as my lips parted. That wasn’t right; there was no “more.” What we had was closer than any romantic relationship, and adding to it wouldn’t make it better, just... “Something different?” I asked at last. “Yeah...” he said slowly. His hands tightened almost imperceptibly around my arms. “Would that work?” “I... yes. It would.” I knew it immediately. There was nothing we could do that would ruin what we had. Suddenly it seemed as if this was exactly where we were supposed to be; twenty-odd years of friendship had been leading up to this one moment. “It wouldn’t be strange?” he asked, but after taking a moment to consider, shook his head. “It really wouldn’t... it would be–“ “Perfect?” I interjected, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “I was going to say natural,” he replied, smiling as well, “but yeah. It would be perfect.” We grinned at each other, and then, as if on cue, he leaned in for a kiss. The girls chose just that moment to start up again. I sighed, knowing that Ryan would pull away and the moment would be over. But he didn’t. He hovered, just short of my lips, grinning broadly. “They’re treating us like puppets again,” I pointed out. Ryan shrugged. “Fuck ‘em.” And he kissed me. My mouth opened beneath his, and I breathed him in. He tasted like tobacco, but then I did, too, and it tasted wonderful. His hands slid around my waist, fitting me tightly against him. We continued to kiss for some time, leisurely exploring each other. My hands sifted through his hair, slid down to dip beneath his collar and taking the time to enjoy every inch of skin I could get my hands on. He did the same to me, gently untucking my shirt to splay his hands over my belly, skimming fingertips over the sensitive skin. “Hey! Get a room!” Startled, we broke apart, but it wasn’t the girls who were yelling now. Greg, Brad, Chip, and Jeff were watching from just inside, all grinning like idiots. As I watched, Greg pulled Brad into an overly dramatic stage kiss, and then broke away with a smile and a wink. I couldn’t help but laugh, sticking my tongue out at them as Ryan pulled me close once again, burying his nose against my neck and inhaling deeply. Knowing we had the support of our friends was the greatest feeling in the world. In the back of my mind, I knew there was still reality to deal with. I really do love my wife. She’s my best friend after Ryan, and Pat is his. Later there would be guilt and pain as decisions were made and hearts were broken, but just then, none of it mattered. I would always keep that one moment, with Ryan fitting against me as though he were made to be right there, the laughter of our friends and the chatter of the girls dancing down the street, frozen in my mind. Perfect.