Title: Simply Knowing Author: knowyourlips Rating: PG (?) Pairing: Ryan/Colin Summary: When Ryan kisses him the first time, he barely reacts. He blinks a few times, blandly, when Ryan pulls away, and waits for the screaming to stop. Author's Notes: Oh, somebody stop me. I'm not even proofing. Just sitting down and typing up more plotless fics. *sighs* Deep down, they both know it; Ryan knows he loves Colin, and Colin knows he loves Ryan. But neither are willing to push the other; neither are willing to be the one that makes the first move. Granted, they know that the other loves them - but there's a world of difference between brotherly, platonic, friendly affection and crazy, romantic love. And in the case that they're wrong - in the case that they assume the other loves them in a way they actually don't - they risk ruining the longest - and best - friendship of their respective lives. So maybe they'll never actually say anything. Maybe they don't have to. When Ryan kisses him the first time, he barely reacts. He blinks a few times, blandly, when Ryan pulls away, and waits for the screaming to stop. When Ryan kisses him the second time, he's slightly more prepared; as his friend leans in, with surprising haste, all Colin can do is remind himself to purse his lips. He mechanically offers his lips, as one might do when dutifully receiving the smooch of an elderly relative, and tolerates his best friend's mouth. The third time Ryan kisses him, he puckers up expectantly - and he kisses him the same way a platonic friend would (granted, it'd usually be a platonic friend of the opposite sex, but it's close enough). He's more prepared for the fourth kiss. He opens his lips a little as his friend closes in - and, if ever pressed on the matter, he'd simply swear that Ryan had caught him mid-breath or about to speak. Except he's pretty sure Ryan felt his lips open. And he's pretty sure he felt Ryan's open in kind. But it wasn't much, and he's too chicken to ask - besides, how could he? "So, Ryan, how's Pat? Mac? Oh, and by the way, when you kissed me, was your mouth open too, or was I just imagining that?" Surprisingly, though - or not surprisingly, he's actually not sure which - Ryan wordlessly answers the unspoken question. He can't quite remember which number this kiss was - it was after their fifth, but before their tenth - and he knows that he'd opened his mouth again, and this time - without doubt - he'd felt Ryan part his own lips slightly, and he'd nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Ryan's tongue swipe quickly across his lower lip. His own tongue had darted out of his mouth, without him even thinking about it, seeking Ryan's out, and they'd met, a little tentatively for two people who'd been friends for that long - and it had felt wrong and all kinds of right at the same time; it was sort of messy, sort of awkward, maybe even a little less than perfect - but neither of them cared. It was over too fast for either of their likings - they still had a show to do, after all - but it was enough, for both of them, to simply know that it had happened.