Title: I'll Be Watching You Rating: R, I think, for language Pairing: Ryan/Colin Summary: He hates how crystal clear the memories are; he hates that even without trying too hard, he can recall, perfectly, Ryan smiling, genuinely at him; he hates that when he shuts his eyes, what he sees is Ryan smiling at Colin Warnings: Some fandoms have warnings, so I thought I'd include one. Just because. It's kind of a fic about Greg's feelings for Ryan - notsomuch that he's madly in love with him, I don't think. Just how he feels about Ryan's friendship/relationship with Colin. Author's Notes: Inspired, partly, by clay's "Every Breath You Take" music video (OMG! LOVE! ... oh, and the title's "borrowed" from a lyric in that song). So, you know. Blame her or something ;) Oh, and I haven't seen all of the UK WL eps, so ... yeah. A lot of this is just ... completely made up, as opposed to made-up-but-based-on-an-ep, I guess. And the timeline's a little creative, I think. *shrugs* But hey. Disclaimer: Not mine because/and they're not characters? Not trying to get myself sued, either. Just writing a story ... *~*~* He hates how crystal clear the memories are; he hates that even without trying too hard, he can recall, perfectly, Ryan smiling, genuinely at him; he hates that when he shuts his eyes, what he sees is Ryan smiling at Colin. He remembers being partnered with Ryan habitually - now he's lucky if they share two games a taping. Ryan and Colin, however - it's an event if they don't share a game. They pretend to moan about it, off-stage; they complain to everyone who'll listen that they've asked, repeatedly, to be separated, so as not to become stale, or some bullshit like that ... but everyone knows that Ryan's a producer, and if he really wanted to, he could split himself and Colin up. He hates that he remembers the feel of Ryan's hips pressed up against him, and he hates that he remembers how Ryan's breath felt against his forehead. He hates that his heart used to lurch when he was that close to Ryan, and he hates that he thought it was fucking intimate to be near him like that. He hates that even on the sanitised and anally-censored American show, Ryan's more intimate with Colin. He can't quite figure out just how Ryan brushing Colin's cheek lightly with his fingertips is more intimate than how he used to grind into Ryan on stage; it just simply is. He tells himself it's just that he's getting older, and more sentimental, and that it has nothing to do with who Ryan's with that affects how goddamn intimate it looks. He tries not to look when Ryan presses a gentle kiss to the Canadian's head; he pretends he doesn't notice that when they hug, Ryan pulls Colin's body flush against him. He looks away when they dance, and he tries his hardest to sneer at Colin's hand on Ryan's ass, because if he's sneering, he's not fucking crying, thank Christ. "Aren't you on next week?" Greg had asked, furrowing his brow. "Nah," Ryan had shrugged, before draining the bottle in front of him, "they're letting this other guy take my place." "That sucks," he'd replied, immediately, raising his bottle in commiseration. "Not really ... he's an old friend ..." Ryan had replied, slowly. "Oh?" was all Greg had managed to get out, his eyebrows almost lost in his hair. "Yeah. Colin," he'd added, and Greg's heart had all but fucking lurched at the shy smile on the taller man's face. He hates himself for not hating himself for how he'd tried to forget Ryan; he'd let Clive take him in his crappy dressing room before a show. He'd gasped out something about Ryan, the first time, and the host had laughed. "Well ..." he'd drawled, pulling back a little, and Greg had pushed back against him, helplessly, "I am offended." "No you're not," he'd replied, through clenched teeth, "and for Christ's sake, could you go a little faster?" " ... is he coming back?" he'd asked. "I don't think so," Ryan had replied, staring at the hardly-touched drink he was cradling. "Oh," Greg had replied, neutrally, and Ryan had forced a half-smile. "He says he was terrible..." he'd added, a little wistfully, and Greg had tried to ignore the smile he heard in his friend's voice, "but he's really hard on himself, and he's really shy-" he'd broken off "It just would've been good to work with him again ..." he'd trailed off, and Greg had nodded, silently, because there wasn't much he could say. "How long've you known him?" he'd asked, finally, after clearing his throat, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Oh, since I was ... eighteen, I think," he'd replied, his brow furrowing. "Wow. That's a long time," he'd pointed out, a little unnecessarily. "Yeah, I guess," Ryan had replied, distractedly. Then he'd shrugged. He tries to avoid watching episodes he's in; he's grown to despise the way he's so fucking obvious. He, Ryan and Colin sometimes get to play 'Change Emotion' or whatever the Christ it's called, and he does his best to make Ryan laugh simply because he loves the way the taller man's Adam's apple bobs, and knowing that he's the one who made Ryan lose control is almost euphoric. He'd nearly made Ryan laugh, playing that game. "... by the-the two moons?" he'd asked, as Jimmy Stewart, he thinks, and the taller man had bit back a surprised laugh, and Greg's heart had fucking leapt - until Colin had added, as Carol Channing, "Yes ..." and Ryan had actually laughed out loud, and the shorter man had shrugged, a little sheepishly, and smiled back at him. He hates - and he's never told anyone this - that he's only worth the rotational fourth seat on the show. He hates that even though he worked with Ryan on this show long before anyone else - namely Colin - it's the balding Canadian that has a permanent seat and second billing and a trailer the size of Ryan's. "You're on next week, aren't you?" Greg had checked, trying to sound casual. "Yeah, I am," Ryan had replied, almost as though he'd just realised it himself. "And so's Colin," he'd added, trying to bite back a smile. "Colin?" Greg had repeated, his voice a little higher than usual. Not that Ryan had even noticed. "Yeah. Colin," Ryan had replied, nodding a couple of times. "They're giving him another chance. It should be good," he'd added. "Oh, I'll finally get to meet him," Greg had realised. Ryan didn't seem to hear him. "It'll be good to work with him again," he'd said, almost to himself, and Greg had fallen silent. He probably should hate Colin - not because he's wronged him, really, in any specific way, but because it seems like the logical person to blame; in his mind, he and Ryan would be a lot closer, were it not for him ... but he can't hate Colin. It should be so easy; it shouldn't be even slightly hard to hate Colin's self-consciousness and shyness. It should be easy to hate that he has with Ryan what Greg's always secretly longed for. He knows he could easily hate the way the balding man makes Ryan so happy so effortlessly, but Colin makes him laugh, and - perhaps more importantly - Colin makes Ryan laugh. He tells himself that he genuinely likes Colin; he ignores the tiny part of him that points out, snidely, that it's more likely that he knows that if he and Colin didn't get along, if Ryan was ever forced to make a choice between the two of them, Greg would come off a decided second-best. "They hated me," he'd moaned, and Ryan had stretched his arm across the back of the booth. "No they didn't," he'd insisted, with surprising conviction - enough to make Greg glance up from his drink. His gaze had lingered on Ryan's face for a long moment, but the other man had paid him no heed. "They did too," Colin had replied, dejectedly, and he'd buried his face in his hands for a moment and let out a quiet groan. "Aw, no, Col ..." Ryan had reached forward to tug his friend's hands away, and Greg had taken another silent sip of his drink. "They couldn't hate you," he'd announced, as he reached under Colin's chin to grab his cheeks. "They couldn't hate a face like that." He'd turned them slightly to face Greg. "No one could. Could they, Greg?" he'd prompted, as he tilted Colin's head back and forth. Greg stared at him, levelly, before replying, as flatly as he could, "Of course not," and Ryan - and probably Colin too - had known that he obviously couldn't care less about stroking the Canadian's ego. "See?" Ryan had crowed, as he'd reached out to pat Colin on the back. "You were fine." He used to be Ryan's hands in 'Helping Hands', or 'Hands Through', or whatever Clive had been calling it back then. He'd press up, as close as he dared, against Ryan, and Ryan had never pulled away. Now he watches Colin rest his hands, briefly, on the taller man's hips; he watches Ryan reach around him and tug Colin closer. He watches Colin rise up onto the tips of his toes, and nearly laughs at the sight. He watches Ryan squeeze the shorter man in a silent warning, and he watches Colin's hand immediately offer itself, and a tiny clenching in his gut reminds him that Ryan was never quite that comfortable with him. He watches Colin offer his fingers to Ryan; he watches Ryan smirk and suck them, deliberately, and he's impressed by the Canadian's boldness. He wishes he'd had the nerve to do that.