Author: Indy Baggins Title: Three Pairing: Greg/Ryan/Colin Rating: PG-13 Summary: I think the pairing says it all… Author’s comments: I blame Clay. And Lorena. Possibly the Valentine’s challenge too. Hugs to clayangel for being such an enthusiatic and patient beta. *smiles* The first glow of yellowish morning light lighted up their room, and Ryan slowly opened his eyes. A quick glance told him that Greg was to his right. Sprawled out, Greg always managed to twist and turn throughout the night until he was left without blankets. He was stark naked too, Ryan noted absently. Colin always slept in boxer shorts, Ryan knew. Usually white ones. Greg groaned in his sleep. There was some stubble visible on his chin. His glasses were neatly folded on the nightstand. Ryan’s eyes closed and the image of the glasses stayed with him for a couple moments more before he drifted off to sleep again. --- He remembered his first time with Greg. They both had been young, gawky and carrying the feeling of the stage; where the whole world was theirs to change, along everywhere they went. Ryan had known Greg wanted him, he had known it all along and so when he had pulled him into an alley in cold rainy London, some time after the show and had unbuttoned his pants, it had seemed like the finale of something, not the beginning. It had been fast and hard and good, and that’s all they both had wanted. At the time. --- Facing Greg, the cold air touching his skin, Ryan drifted on the edge of sleep a couple minutes more, his arm stretched out along the head board. Suddenly, the heavy weight of a tossing Greg rolled over it, and Ryan groaned. Blinking his eyes against the intrusive sunlight, he glimpsed at the sleeping form of Greg again and saw he was dreaming, his mouth forming murmurs and his mind undoubtedly fighting some demons Ryan never knew about. Colin dreamt too sometimes, Ryan knew. Only his dreams were the silent ones, the kind that left traces of fear in his eyes the next morning and made Ryan afraid to ask if there where ghosts in Colin’s past too, because he wondered if he was one of them. Ryan pulled his arm away, none too gently, and Greg felt for it with a vague hand movement before he went back to murmuring, louder this time. Ryan sighed and moved his arm over Greg’s shoulder, pulling him closer. Greg relented to the touch and fell silent for a couple moments before turning around, the whole bed moving, and poked an elbow into Ryan’s side. --- The depth of how good it really could be between them had come later, in another season, where a wink had meant that they would be moving together in an uncomfortable bathroom stall minutes later, or a message that they would scramble away in the middle of the night from each others hotel rooms with wrinkled clothes. It hadn’t meant much, even then. --- Ryan put his hands over his eyes and rubbed. He felt cold, his body cramped. Hang-over too, the light hurting his eyes and his head painfully hollow. He momentarily wondered what he had drunk last night, but then dismissed it again. He could always ask Colin if he really wanted to know. Greg never got cold during the night, Ryan knew. He seemed to radiate warmth, constantly kicking and turning and twisting, as if he didn’t lose enough energy during the day. Colin never seemed to get warm enough. --- He remembered what he thought would have been his last time with Greg. Colin had come on the show a couple months earlier, and it had changed Greg in a way. The sex had gotten fiercer; Greg had wanted a possession from Ryan they both knew he didn’t have, and then they had gotten to the point where there was really nothing more to say, so Ryan had left. When Greg had said he would come back to him he had been right; it only took a couple months before had Ryan pinned him to a toilet stall wall and was unzipping his pants again, movements precise and hurried, promising nothing more than the moment. --- Ryan moved away from Greg in the bed, craving some warmth, and his hand reached out to touch warm, smooth skin. He turned and folded his body around the shape to his left that was Colin, lodged under the blankets, only one shoulder and part of his chest visible. Greg never liked to be held, Ryan knew. Colin couldn’t sleep if he wasn’t. --- He remembered his first time with Colin too. They both had been overly flushed and eager, and it had been over before it begun really, but Ryan would always remember the shine of excitement in Colin’s eyes and how he couldn’t even bring his hands to hold him, so badly they had been shaking. He remembered the morning after too and how Colin had spoken words that seemed both too fragile and yet inevitable, binding them together in something too big and permanent without a second thought. It had seemed unimportant at the time that Ryan couldn’t even look him in the eye. --- Colin immediately adjusted himself to his changed position and moved closer into Ryan. Ryan stayed that way, arms wrapped around Colin, wishing himself back to sleep, until he was sure every part of his body was warmed up again. He could smell Colin’s scent. Colin always smelled like soap and wood and home in a way, although Ryan didn’t really knew where that would be anymore. Greg always smelled like cigarettes, Ryan knew. Cigarettes and aftershave and a pang of cynical excitement that still made his blood rush at times. --- The weeks after the first time with Colin had been too amazing, and Ryan continued to be suspicious of when it would all crumble and fall apart. Longing for Colin had been so all-consuming that the moment it went from being a foolish fantasy into something real it had scared him to death. Ryan had needed roughness, security, something to move into at night when there was nothing but darkness and the fear of losing himself in the idea of Colin. But Colin.... He had been afraid to touch at times. Ryan would tell him that he wouldn’t break, and Colin would only smile a shy smile and hug him closer under the blankets. Ryan remembered going home in the middle of the night with an ache in his chest, and the irrational need to do… something. Sometimes he called Greg. --- The heat was slowly getting too much and so he turned away again, vaguely noting that Greg had dropped his arm over the edge of the bed now. He often wondered why they let him sleep in the middle. He would always wake up with one side shivering and bruised by Greg, the other sweating and heated by Colin; and a vague sense of being trapped between the two of them, with no way out. As he turned again, Colin had let one hand follow his hip, and it lay on the bed now, fingers unconsciously staying in contact with Ryan’s skin. --- Ryan remembered what he thought had been the last time with Colin and how he both had felt nauseous at the thought of never holding him again and pride at the fact that he had always known it would end and that he had never completely lost himself in it. He remembered how he had felt that he needed to say something before he left. The only reason he didn’t was because he knew Colin understood already. --- Ryan moved again and considered getting up and getting some aspirin. Greg never woke up when he left the bed, Ryan knew. As if sensing his mood, Colin’s eyes opened, flashing brown for a moment, and Ryan saw the smile in them. Colin snuggled closer, closed his eyes again, and his hand stayed on Ryan’s hip. Ryan looked at it for a long time. --- He remembered the day they had found themselves in the same room, after a show, and how Greg and Colin had cornered him and had proposed to talk about things and find a solution. Greg had been the one to explain it, and Ryan, sure it was a joke, had laughed with only a catch of hurt to his tone. When he found out that it was Colin who had proposed it, he had left and hit the wall outside. --- Greg was waking up too; he could hear it in the way he was breathing. Soon he turned, and Ryan looked at him. Colin, behind him, was closing his eyes and pretending to still be asleep, Ryan knew. Greg kissed him on instinct, a hard, fast kiss and Ryan could feel Colin exhale against his back. He shivered. --- He had sometimes wondered if there was something between them too, Greg and Colin. There wasn’t, Ryan knew, when he saw their halted, unsure movements when they were in bed together. The only thing they shared was the look of adoration they gave him when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Ryan had never understood why it always had been about him. He wished he could be happy with it though, sometimes.