Game Playing Pairing - ry/col Rating - R Summary - Games, Games, Games....when will they ever end? Disclaimer - this is a work of fiction. I do not own Colin or Ryan or anyone. Any similarities to real life are purely coincidental… "Questions only…" "So, you ready?" "Are you?" "Are we leaving?" "Right now?" "Didn't we discuss this?" "When?" "Don't you remember?" "You mean earlier?" "Weren't you listening?" "You mean this morning?" "Where's your head?" "Are you being funny?" "Are you?" "My place or yours?" "You mean your place in Sherman Oaks or my suite at the Beverly Hilton?" "Do you have a preference?" "You want to run into your wife?" "So, Beverly Hilton, then?" "What do you think?" "Are you wearing the red silk boxers?" "Wouldn't you like to know?" "You going to tease me?" "Is that what you want?" "Don't you know?" … After a pause, I chuckle, shrugging. I'm stumped. Occasionally, we practice like this, but mostly its for fun. Ryan glances at me smirking. "So, I guess I won." I nod. "Yep. Two-thousand points to you." I toss him the imaginary points which he pretends to catch, and our eyes link. His green ones are set deep within Hollywood-handsome features, and I find myself smiling at him. This innuendo is getting tiresome, but neither of us is willing to take the next step so we wait. We wait and we pretend and we ignore the raging unspoken war between us which causes such a thick ball of tension that it's almost tangible. But we wait, still and I'm the first to look away. When we're together, we practice some of the games - like Song Titles or Questions Only or one of the other games which only require the two of us. It always begins with one of us saying the name of the game - and we play, but it's just an excuse. We enjoy each other's company. The chemistry felt between us is very strong - even outside of the Whose Line set. The games we play always insinuate something undercurrent. "Hey, Col." He calls to me, and I glance in his direction. "Yeah." He regards me, smoothing his t-shirt (out of habit) as if it were his usual tie and dress-shirt. "You really have a suite at the Beverly Hilton?" I wag a finger at him and wink. "Ahh…wouldn't you like to know?" He laughs, shaking his head. "What are you doing staying there? You could stay with me if you needed someplace…" I nod. "I don't need someplace, per se…I just…I don't feel all that comfortable at home these days." He lowers his eyes. "Problems?" I don't reply right away, then I shake my head. "You're very inquisitive right now." He shrugs, good naturedly. "Right. I'm inquisitive. So answer the question…" I meet his eyes. "Yes. Problems. None you need to concern yourself with." He makes a face and turns away. "I thought we were friends, Col." I nod. "And your point is?" "Implicit honesty?" I'm exhaling slowly. "Yeah. Implicit honesty…we're having marital issues. Nothing out of the ordinary." "Ahh…" He cocks his head. "…nothing out of the ordinary. This sounds serious." I shove my hands into my pockets. "Serious as cancer." In another instant, his hand rests on my shoulder, and I find myself leaning in to the touch. It's no secret that I love his touch. It's also no secret that he loves to give it generously. The feel of him is almost as familiar as the feel of my wife. The thought sends a pang of guilt through me and I move away from his large handed caress. "What is it?" He asks. I shake my head, turning away from him. "You really want to know?" He snorts. "Is this another game?" I really don't mean for it to be, but it's so much safer than what I was thinking. "What do you think?" He comes around to face me. "Should I ask something specific?" My heart flutters. "Isn't that dangerous?" His smile is slow, easy. "Would it pertain to the redness of your cheeks?" I clear my throat, embarrassed. "Are they?" He nods. "You have to ask?" I lower my eyes. I have no choice. It aches to look at him. "Ryan…" "You want me to stop?" He persists. I'm gnawing my lip. "I…God…" "Are you okay?" "Stop it." I mutter. "I can't…" His hands both rest on my shoulders now, and I close my eyes, needing escape. "Colin, look at me." His voice is deep, silky. Bravely, I meet his eyes, losing myself in the forest color, losing myself in his concern and almost unnatural beauty. "Okay. Now what?" I ask, my voice quavering. He smiles. "That's up to you." Shaking my head, I close my eyes. "No. I think it's up to you." "You want to argue about it?" He asks. I nod. "Sure. Lets argue about it." "Get serious." He says in a stern voice, which sends a volt of electric coursing through my body. "I *am* serious." I answer, opening my eyes to him, letting my hand boldly caress his face. He doesn't back away, but something passes through his eyes and it feels like restraint being pulled taut like a rope, straining against desire. I know that feeling well. I live with it everyday. "You want me to confess first?" He asks as my knees weaken. "Confess?" I ask in a voice barely above a whisper. "Confess what?" "Are you being purposely obtuse?" He sounds irritated. "I'm sorry." I sigh. " I suppose I was." "You're so tense." He says, massaging my shoulders through the fabric in my shirt, and I shrug his hands off of me. "Don't." I say. "What are we doing?" He's shrugging. "I don't know. I didn't think we were doing anything." I nod. "Well, that's where you're wrong. You start rattling on about confessions and getting that Oscar winning look in your eyes and something is happening here…I can't put my finger on it, but…" His eyebrows are scrunched when I look at him. "What the Hell is all that?" I shrug. "What?" He shakes his head. "You're rambling like my senile grandmother, and quite frankly, it's all rubbish. I mean it, Colin. Something is up, here. You're acting like you need Zoloft, and jumping when I touch you like I have the plague…" "I didn't jump." He exhales, slowly. "Well, it never bothered you before." "Before was different." "Yeah? How so?" I shrug. "Before, I didn't realize how much…" He nods. "Yeah…" "Umm…" I turn away from him. "…before…I didn't realize how much I …" "Love you?" He finishes the sentence, and I meet his eyes, utterly shocked and relieved. "Jesus, Ryan…" He nods. "Someone should say it. It needs to be said, instead of beating around the damned bush for another twenty years." I feel deflated when he approaches me, resting his hand on my cheek. "Colin, I know you're tired of pretending." I don't reply; only stare into his hazel eyes, hoping to lose myself in them forever. "I *am* tired…" I finally whisper, placing my hand over his. "… of pretending…" He smiles and leans in close, our foreheads touching. "Colin, so many games we've played - so many scenarios I've wished were reality…I'm so sick of it being a game…when I touch you…I want it to be real. I want it to be you. Not some damned character created by the writing team…" I nod, suddenly very fragile, suddenly needing to hold onto him or risk the possibility of falling. "Colin," He continues, caressing my cheek, "I knew how you felt. I've kissed you so many times…how many times has it mattered to you?" "Every time." I whisper. "Ryan…please…" "How many times have we embraced…" My eyes are unfocused, swelled with tears. God, they can't fall…what will it mean if they do? "Colin…" "Don't…" I whisper, feeling his heat as his lips near mine. "…shh…" We're inches away, and I'm still avoiding it, avoiding him. So many kisses…but this is real… Our lips are so close; the kiss is within grasp. "I need you…" He chokes out, and this is it. I pull him in and close the gap, kissing him deeply. He's sweltering, hand on my cheek while mine rests on his shoulder. Our mouths mold together as we lose ourselves momentarily in the sweet realization. When he pulls back, he looks unsteady, even weak. I hold him in my grasp. "Hey…" I rumble breathlessly. He only nods, then pulls me in again, exploring my mouth. My groan travels through him as he cradles my head in his hands. "I love you." He whispers when we break the kiss. "Colin, I…" My mouth is on his again, and I am insatiable for him. The realization has sank in that I'm kissing him and I'm not in front of a camera or doing it for laughs or listening to some live studio audience and their wild applause. I can let myself feel it, feel him. My hands are grasping his shirt, partly holding him up and partly holding him close. Then I have the sudden need to feel his skin and without breaking the kiss, I tug his shirt apart until the buttons fly, landing on the carpet with muffled little thuds. Still kissing him, my palm is suddenly on his warm smooth chest, traveling the length of his long lean torso as he makes a soft high- pitched noise, a mixture of surprise and ecstasy. When he pulls back this time, he bends his head and lets his lips graze against my neck. I shudder and bury my fingers in the blondish waves of his hair. He's kissing and nipping the skin of my neck, urgently, dancing his tongue against my mandible, planting kisses against my chin, then to my lips again, groaning and holding me close. "Ryan…I love…" He nods, hugging me to him. "I know… So do I." I close my eyes and let him hold me close. "I love you…" "I want you." He whispers back, pulling away slightly to regard me with smoldering eyes as his hands go to my waistband and start to undo my fly. "Eager, are we?" I inquire, happily. He smirks. "Is it obvious?" I nod, trying not to let the anticipation drive me insane. "Where will this lead?" He doesn't respond. Instead, he slips my belt free of its loops, slowly. Resting my hands on his shoulders, I try not to let my mind wander. I try not to think of my family or Whose Line or my colleagues with their inquiring eyes - like satellite saucers, always monitoring us, or my fans who think I'm the sweet, well-rounded family man. As a substitute, I focus on his hands slowly gliding my slacks down my legs and smoothing his large hands up and down my thighs. This is what I've been wanting for years. This is what I've been hoping for - so why am I suddenly so apprehensive? "Ryan…" I pant. "…Ryan, wait." He glances up at me and comes up to meet my gaze. "What is it?" I pause, "I'm afraid." For an instant he doesn't register my words, then he nods slowly. "I know you are, and quite frankly - so am I." His hand cradles my face, gently. "But what scares me more is thinking I can never have this with you - that we'll always be just waiting, just playing game after game…do you want that?" I shake my head, unable to speak. "Colin, I want you so badly…" I nod and pull him into another deep kiss as he caresses my head. Moments later, we're on the futon in my trailer, and Ryan is naked against me. I am exploring him with my hands and marveling in the softness of his skin. His eyes are half-lidded as his taut muscles ripple beneath my touch. Our eyes are linked as I bend forward to kiss a pectoral, and he brings his hand to my face, brushing his thumb against my cheek. "Do you really want to do this?" I ask, letting my hand travel down towards his lower belly, fingers grazing the soft pale hair there. He nods. "Do you?" I can't stop the smirk from ghosting my lips. "You always answer a question with a question?" He smiles and lets his hand rest against my hip, sending a warm tingle straight up my spine. "It's habit." His lips come up to meet mine as his free hand wraps around my already stiff member, and I tremble against him. "Ryan…" He grins. "You like?" I nod. "Are you serious?" Now, he chuckles and begins to move his hand up and down on my rod. "You think I'm joking?" For the moment, I don't answer - just let my eyes flutter shut as he slides his hand along my length, agonizingly slow. "Can…you go faster?" I whisper through clenched teeth. "Is that what you want?" He replies, toying with the tip as I gasp. "Ryan…" "What is it?" His breath is against my ear, warm and tickling. "Please…" "You lose." I clear my throat and grasp his wrist. "I wasn't playing." He leans in and begins to stroke me faster as I moan softly. "I think you were." Involuntarily, my hips begin to move with him, thrusting slowly. His hand slides up and down on my shaft, and I feel the familiar stirrings of the eminent orgasm in my belly. My head falls back against the pillows as he brings me off fairly quickly and I lie against him, breathing deeply. His smile is gracious as he touches my chest, lightly, letting his fingers tease the dark hair there. "Was that good?" I grin, weakly. "More questions?" He snorts and lets his head rest in the crook of my neck. "Do you mind?" Considering him, I play in the wavy golden hair on his head. "Should I?" His hand comes out to grasp mine and rest them both on his solid cock. "What should we do about this?" his voice is hoarse as I close my fist around him and move it slowly up and down. "I've not done this in a while." I whisper, toying with him lightly. "But I have all sorts of ideas." He moans at my words. "Show me, Col…" Bending over him, I take him into my mouth and marvel in his response, a soft noise at the back of his throat. He feels so hot and so masculine against me. His scent is a mixture of perspiration and sex and sweet-smelling shampoo as I am filled with glee. My tongue is licking him as my mouth encompasses him, and he trembles a bit, holding my head in his hand. When I take him out of my mouth, I start to stroke him in long languid motions, using saliva and pre-cum as lube, and he groans, tossing back his head. "Colin, where…did you learn that?" I watch his face as he gets closer, so much in love with him that it sends another volt of energy coursing through my body. "You really want to know?" I ask in response. "Can you handle the answer?" He sighs and closes his eyes. "Was it with Drew Carey?" I make a soft sound of disapproval. "How desperate do you think I am?" He chuckles, softly, reaching down to cup his own scrotum. "How desperate *are* you?" Shaking my head, I kiss his open mouth and regard him. "How close are you?" The question is lost to deaf ears as he clenches his jaw and arches up once more into my hand before spurting his milky essence. He's still gasping as I completely drain him, then moments later, he collapses back against me. When I embrace him, I find myself overcome with emotion. I've always envisioned being with him, but it always felt like a fantasy - never like this. I've never been with anyone I loved this much. "Colin…" He finally whispers after several minutes of companionable silence. I sigh and touch his hair in reply. "Yeah, Ryan." "Did you mean it? When you said you loved me?" I meet his eyes, steadily holding his gaze. "You really don't know?" He shakes his head, slowly. "No more question marks, okay…" My hand touches his face, traces his brow. "Yes. I meant it. I love you." He smiles contentedly and rests his head against me as we snuggle beneath the comforter, and his voice is thick with emotion when he replies. "I meant it too." END