Title: The Truth About Captain Hair Author: xfphile and Heather E-mail: xfphile@yahoo.com, heathersutter@hawaii.rr.com (doesn't work) Pairing: Ryan/Colin Rating: NC-17 Summary: Ever wonder why Ryan still has all his hair even though he’s only a couple years younger than Colin? What do you suppose made Colin become the Captain Hair we all know and love? Archive: Definitely. Here at this archive and anywhere else; just be sure and let me know where. Author’s Notes: Ah, the things that happen when two authors get bored. This story is co-written by Heather and xfphile. All the parts from Ryan’s POV were done by xfphile, and all the Colin parts were done by Heather. Plot development and editing was a joint effort. Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, but if Ryan and/or Colin come up for sale, we’ve got first dibs. Author's Warning: Hear ye, hear ye. This story is rated NC-17 and it is graphic. It's also a slash story (m/m interaction). If you are not 18 or find this kind of thing offensive, DON'T READ THIS!!! I'm not kidding. Go away. If you are 18 or older, you might want to have a pitcher of water handy. Feedback is craved; flames will used to toast my s’mores. The Truth About Captain Hair * * * * * * * * * * * Colin    It’s just not fair, you know? Do you realize that I started to lose my hair in my twenties? I mean how ridiculous is that? They call it premature balding, and I guess they’re right, since it sure felt premature to me. But they don’t know why. Only Ryan and I know the real reason... and now you, I guess. But you have to promise not to tell anyone. We’ve kept it a secret for so long now, I just need to tell someone. It’s hard to keep a secret like this. But then, that’s really a big part of the problem. If we didn’t have to hide it, then I’d have as much hair as Ryan---but I’m getting ahead of myself. Why don’t we start with the first time? It was... oh, years ago. We had actually just met a few months previously, and we hit it off right away, of course. Some people just click, you know? Anyway, we were hanging out after a show, and... * * *  “Hey, Ryan,” I said lazily, grinning up at him as he walked behind my chair. We were tucked away in the corner of this seedy strip club where Ryan did stand-up. He had just finished a set, to the usual grudging response. These people weren’t here to see a skinny kid make dirty jokes, they were here for the... ahem... ‘exotic dancers.’ Ryan was just filler material so the management could keep the customers here longer and bleed more drink money out of ‘em.   Ryan usually managed to get a few laughs despite that, and I made a habit of coming to see his sets. There was something about his sense of humor that just appealed to my own off-the-wall sensibilities. It was even better when we did Theatre Sports together. The way we could read each other and build an improv scene was nothing short of magic. At least, that’s how it felt when we were up there on stage. Unfortunately, it didn’t pay well enough to live off; hence the stand up gigs.   “Hey, Col,” he replied, setting a drink down in front of me. It was some kind of clear fluid over ice, and I doubted that it was water. Raising my eyebrows, I pushed the glass away with the tips of my fingers, leaving a short trail of condensation on the battered wooden table.  “Oh, no, Ryan, I can’t. You know what a lightweight I am... besides, you bought the last round---” Ryan held a hand up to stop me and pushed the drink back in front of me. “Come on, Col, take it... it’s a special occasion.” He was smiling enigmatically and I cocked my head, giving him my best puzzled look. Ryan does love to be mysterious.   It’s funny, how I know that about him, after only a few months of hanging out together. We never really talked about serious things, and yet I knew him. Some people you know for years and never really get close to, but not Ryan. I think of it as complicated, three-dimensional puzzle pieces. With some people, as soon as you meet them, you just know you’re not going to like them. That’s because your puzzle shapes clash. But with some people, you just fit together; each little facet and hollow meshes with the other person’s to form a coherent whole.  Yeah, I know that sounds sappy. And I don’t care. It’s a good image, the right image to describe how Ryan and I just clicked. So, even after such a short time of knowing him, I knew he wasn’t going to tell me what the special occasion was, no matter how much I pestered and gave him my best pleading puppy dog look. I had a girl tell me once that my eyes were my best feature, and I’ve used them mercilessly ever since then.  “I can’t deny you anything when you give me those big bedroom eyes,” was what she said. I remember smiling and widening the old deep browns a little more, enjoying her reaction. I’d never considered myself to be particularly good looking, and it was really nice to have that kind of attention.  Of course, we did break up a couple weeks later when I caught her screwing around with another guy. Apparently, there were a lot of things she couldn’t resist. I shrugged it off though---I didn’t really have anything strong going on with her. Our puzzle pieces didn’t fit together, if you know what I mean.  And no, that’s not what I mean! Get your mind out of the gutter. Sheesh... anyway, back to reality. Ryan was still giving me that mysterious look, and I knew he wouldn’t tell me, but I also knew that he wanted me to ask anyway.   “So, what’s the occasion?”  He gave me a pleased smile, and I realized he understood everything that had just gone through my head. He had no intention of telling me right now, and he knew I knew that, but he wanted me to ask anyway, and he knew I knew that, too, so he knew that I knew what he wanted and was just asking because I knew that... wait. Okay, I’m getting a headache here. Basically, I was asking just to make him happy, and he knew it, okay?   “Oh, I can’t tell you that just yet... but drink up. I didn’t buy that so you could stare at it and watch the ice melt,” he said pointedly. Someone else looking at him might have thought he was irritated, but I knew better. Oh man... let’s not start on the ‘I knew, he knew’ thing again. What it came down to was that I could read him.   Even back then, Ryan was big, and sometimes people would find him intimidating. Especially with those huge hands---they were like big bony clubs, swinging pendulum-like at the end of his long arms. Sometimes I would look at them and think of that Poe story with the swinging blade that got lower and lower. His face was often closed, and it was hard to know what he was feeling. He had a great poker face back then... still does, now that I think about it. But that didn’t matter, because I could see the way the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly, like he was trying not to smile. I could see his eyes widen the tiniest bit, the way his shoulders were smooth and unruffled, without tension. He wasn’t mad, he was teasing.  I quirked an eyebrow at him and took the drink. It was cold and slippery in my hand, and I knocked it back in one swallow; guess I wanted to be cocky. It wasn’t water.  I ended up gasping for breath and sputtering as whatever it was went burning down my throat and did incendiary things to my stomach. Ryan laughed and clapped me on the back, shaking his head.   “Smooth move, ex-lax,” he said, still chuckling.  “What the hell was that? Paint thinner?”   “Just something the bartender makes up special---he calls it Mule Kick,” Ryan replied with a smirk.   “Mule Kick. Well, thanks a lot, Ry, it tasted more like mule piss,” I spluttered, but he could read me too, and he knew I wasn’t really mad. In fact, now that the burning had died down, there was only soothing, tingling warmth that seemed to radiate from my chest and belly out to my fingers and toes. I had the feeling that if I tried to get up, I would have a little trouble walking straight.  “Want another one?” he asked, perfectly straight-faced. I just stared at him for a second, raising my eyebrows and biting the inside of one cheek. I think of it as my ‘what the fuck?’ expression. He looked right back at me, the poker face firmly in place, but his eyes shone with suppressed laughter. I was actually tempted to take him up on the offer; we were both poor struggling comics, and he was buying, after all. One of the main reasons alcohol goes to my head so quickly is that I can’t afford to buy enough to build up a tolerance for it.  “Are you trying to get me drunk or something?” I asked, only half-joking. Ryan had been acting oddly all evening, antsy and almost giddy. He laughed a little too easily, and it seemed like every time we made eye contact he held it just a bit longer than usual. I didn’t need him acting mysterious about this ‘special occasion’ to know something was up. And I trusted him... well, mostly. But the way he was acting was really puzzling me.  It’s like this. If someone tells you to close your eyes and open your mouth, even if you trust them normally, would you do it? Probably not. Because it’s the setup, you know? When someone says that to you, you just know they’re going to do something you’re not expecting. And maybe you trust them, but... it still makes you nervous. I mean, let’s say your best friend asks, “Do you trust me?” The second the question is out, you wonder why the friend has to ask. You wonder what’s going on that you would have to be trusting about. Anyway, I trusted Ryan, but he was still making me a little bit nervous. When I asked if he was trying to get me drunk, he just smiled enigmatically again and went back to the bar. I sat there and watched him; he was easy to keep an eye on, the way he stood head and shoulders above everyone else. Back then he was so rail-thin you wondered if he was sick or something. He looked almost emaciated. His hair was longer back then too, kind of straight and shaggy in that late ‘70s/early ‘80s style. Believe me, if you had seen him back then, you would’ve laughed. His very appearance was funny---and you better believe he used that to his advantage. Anything for a laugh, that’s Ryan.  He set another one of those mysterious drinks in front of me, and I looked at it the way you might look at a poisonous snake.   “No way,” I said firmly. “I’m not touching that one. My stomach is still thinking about sending back the first one.” Which wasn’t really true; my stomach was actually feeling calm and warm, like the rest of me. But I felt it was necessary to put up some kind of token resistance. Playing hard to get, you say? No... not then. I’m sure I wasn’t thinking that way so early on in our friendship.  Mostly sure.   “Come on, Col. Just drink it a little slower this time and you’ll be fine.” The tone was light and teasing, but there was a strange kind of insistence behind it. He sounded almost... scared? Is that right? I looked at him hard, reading him, and... yes, there it was. His hands were curled, the thumbs rubbing against the inside of his knuckles, a habit when he was nervous or anticipating. His eyes were easy, smiling, but there was that telltale little line down the center of his forehead. Whatever this special occasion was, he seemed both excited and nervous about it. And he seemed to want me at least semi-drunk.  Shrugging, I took a sip of the aptly named ‘Mule Kick.’ It didn’t burn so bad going down this time, and I was rewarded with another immediate rush of warmth. My head seemed to float slightly above my body---it was a pleasantly muzzy sensation.   What? It is too a word, so shut up.   The alcohol was quickly taking me to that level of drunkenness where you feel both very smart and very honest. You can say anything you want, and know with perfect clarity that you’re right. And you find yourself lecturing anyone who is handy with a startling absence of tact and propriety.   “You know what, Ryan?” I began, leaning in close and waving a finger to illustrate my brilliant and insightful point. Well, it seemed that way at the time. “If you want to get me drunk for some reason, I’m already there, so you might as well do whatever it is you’re so nervous about.”  He blinked at me, and then laughed a little bit, ducking his head. I guess I surprised him, although I’m not sure why. He had to know I could read him. After all, he could do the same with me. Maybe he just didn’t realize his emotions were showing so clearly.  The funny thing is, I felt so damn smug about my ability to know what he was feeling, when really I had no clue what was coming.  “Okay, then,” he said suddenly, and rose to his feet. He held out one hand and I took it automatically, blinking at him in confusion. He started pulling me to my feet, and I reached out with the other hand and swallowed the rest of that drink. No sense wasting it, after all---don’tcha know kids are starving in Africa and all that. No, wait... that doesn’t work... never mind. I just wanted the rest of it, okay?  He led me through the crowd, parting them easily with his best intimidating glower. Ryan is good at looking scary when he wants to, and back then, when he was so painfully thin, he almost looked like the walking dead. At least, he did to the inebriated people who were quickly getting out of his way.  We ended up backstage. The bouncer recognized him as one of the comics and let us into the back rooms, where the strippers were getting ready for their turn on stage. Ryan didn’t even look at the barely-dressed women that we passed in the narrow, dark hall. Now, granted, he worked with them, he saw them all the time, so he had developed a kind of immunity to strippers. But still... scantily clad women brushing up against us in the close hallway, and he doesn’t even blink?   What in the hell was going on?   He led me down the hall and into a deserted dressing room. I could see us reflected several times over in the brightly lit mirrors. Scattered make-up cases were everywhere, colorful plastic things with names like Maybeline and Cover Girl and who knows what else. Make-up isn’t really my area of expertise. There were also bits of costumes, feathers and spangles and little silky things that caught my eye and tugged at my speculation. So, given all that, I guess it was pretty safe to say that I wasn’t paying much attention to Ryan.  That changed really fast. I caught a look at his face in one of the mirrors as my eyes scanned the room, and it made me freeze. I’d known him long enough to know that Ryan doesn’t show things on his face the way some people do. I read his body language, but his face is usually closed. Not now. He met my eyes in the mirror, standing behind me, and I just stared for a few moments.  He looked... words fail me. Open, and vulnerable, which is very unusual for Ryan, but that wasn’t all. Scared, excited; his eyes were very wide and almost luminous. Maybe it was the alcohol making me see things differently, or maybe he really did look that way. The whole memory has a kind of dreamlike quality for me. Ryan brought his hands up to rest on my shoulders---those big, strong hands.   Once, I saw him shake the hand of a heckler after a particularly nasty remark. He just reached out and said, “Hey, buddy, good one.” He held the hand out there, and the guy just looked at him like he was fucking crazy, so Ryan reached out a little more. “No, I’m serious, congratulations. Peace, yeah?” Like he was making up. Admitting that the heckler was the better man. Any idiot would’ve seen through it, but this particular jackass was drunk, and full of himself, so he took Ryan’s hand. And Ryan squeezed it so fucking hard that the guy yelped and just about broke his damn leg trying to get away. It wouldn’t surprise me if there were actually bones broken in his hand. Ryan’s big mitt had *swallowed* it.  All this flicked through my head when I felt Ryan’s hands on my shoulders, but he didn’t squeeze. They just sat there; gentle, and he kept on looking at me in the mirror. It was like he was waiting for something. Maybe for me to tell him to stop. But there was nothing to stop; he wasn’t really doing anything. Just standing there, looking at me, hands resting lightly on my shoulders---well, moving just a little closer in to my neck now. Just a little. And hadn’t he stepped just a tad nearer to my back? It seemed like he had. I thought I could feel the warmth from his body, even though we weren’t touching. It was an *awareness,* if you will. I could feel that he was there.   Don’t laugh. I’d been drinking; remember? But... that wasn’t the reason. I’m not sure what it was, exactly, that made the moment seem so important. Maybe it was that naked, intense look on his face. Maybe it was the strange surroundings, the dressing room for strippers, with all the surreal colors and mingled scents of clashing perfumes. Right then, right there, Ryan behind me, inching closer... I think he was holding his breath. Either that, or I was. The moment was *pivotal.*  Good things take time. Great things happen all at once.  His hands slipped down then, to brace my upper arms, and he tugged gently, turning me around. It was only a suggestion of movement; I certainly could have resisted. I didn’t. He brought me around to face him, and we stood there, studying each other. I was still so very *aware* of things. I could see us reflected all over the room. I knew exactly how we would look to anyone watching: two young men staring at each other, faces and bodies only inches apart. I had no idea what was happening. My stomach was doing strange, fluttery things, and I don’t think it was the alcohol. I had this odd, bright taste in my mouth, like I had just swallowed a lot of cold seawater, all salty and hard and slightly metallic.   Ryan tilted his head slightly, still holding my gaze, and leaned in. His hands tightened on my arms, and for a moment that memory of the heckler shot through my head again, but I wasn’t afraid. I don’t know what I felt, but it wasn’t fear. My breath was coming faster, and I could actually feel my pulse behind my eyes, making things hazy.   Ryan leaned down, and I lifted my chin to meet him halfway. At the last moment, he closed his eyes, but I kept mine open. I could still see us in the mirrors, and I watched as his lips met mine. Then, sight became meaningless as sensation took over. * * * Ryan You know how some things are destined to be? Like when Buttercup met Wesley in ‘The Princess Bride,’ or the way that cats gravitate to people who are allergic to them? It’s just something that everybody knows is going to happen. Well, the night I met Colin, I felt that way. I didn’t realize at the time what that spark actually meant, but that didn’t stop us from becoming inseparable. Hell, it probably made us even closer. Anyway, Col and I started spending most of our time together, doing theatre sports (and falling more in love with improv every day), hanging out at each other’s houses, going to each other’s stand-up gigs, and just generally acting like a pair of Siamese twins joined at the hip. We used to get a lot of odd looks back in those days, but neither Colin nor I noticed, and even if we had, what difference did it make? Colin had a full head of hair in those days and he was beautiful. I remember very clearly the first time I ever thought of him like that, too: we were messing around during a theatre sport, and I kissed him. Just really lightly brushed his lips with mine. It wasn’t a big deal or anything---except that all I could think about was how his lips felt against mine. They were soft and supple and it took every bit of control I possessed to keep things light and fun. He didn’t notice and we went on with the scene, but I didn’t forget what had happened. After I got home that night, I flopped down on my old, worn-out, every-color-of-brown-known-to-man couch and started thinking (and yes, that’s a bad thing). And what I came up with was this: I had somehow managed to fall in love with my best friend. I didn’t take it well, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell from the state of my apartment; since pretty much everything I owned was already on the floor, no one noticed if something new got added to the pile. You know what’s really weird, though? It happened so fast. We went from polite acquaintances to sparring partners to best friends to lovers in less than six months. It really didn’t feel rushed, to tell you the truth; it felt natural, actually... which is why it scared me so much. I’d dated some before I met Colin, but nothing was ever serious, and about a month after we were introduced, I quit dating altogether. Five months later, I finally understood why---it was because I’d fallen in love. I had enough sense to keep my mouth shut about it, so Colin never knew, but I started seeing some things that I’d previously missed. For instance: Colin always stands within touching distance, no matter where we are. Even when he knows I won’t tell him anything, he’ll ask because he knows I want him to. He watches me when he doesn’t think I’m looking. And he’ll stand up for me no matter what, even when he knows I’m wrong. He always backs me up. So one day, I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I knew that Colin would be coming by the club since I was working that night, so I decided to see if I reading things right. He came in about halfway through my set and shot me a wide grin. It was infectious and I smiled. For a few seconds, we were the only people in the room. The moment ended, of course, and I finished my set. As I started to walk over to Colin, this odd feeling suddenly came over me. It almost felt like I was looking through a telescopic lens; all at once, I was seeing things that I would swear hadn’t been there before. Like, the way his dimples show up when he watches me walk or the way his eyes crinkle when he’s trying to keep a straight face or the way he always shifts in his seat to keep me in eyesight. Nervousness suddenly assailed me and I turn away, heading for the bar. I really couldn’t afford to buy a drink, but I needed to relax and getting Colin a little drunk was probably the best way to get things started. Once I got a general idea of his feelings, we could go from there. So, with that in mind, I bought a beer and something called a Mule Kick. Cautiously, I sipped it---and staggered back a step. That shit was strong and for a fleeting moment, I wished I could toss it down. Being drunk would be a good excuse, but I didn’t want Colin to doubt my feelings. Sighing, I chugged my beer before grabbing Colin’s drink and shouldering my through the crowd. Halfway to his chair, I saw him and warmth spread through me as I watched him twist his head, obviously trying to find me. Pausing, I drank in the sight; in that moment, he was so adorable (I know it’s sappy, dammit! Deal with it.) that I wanted to wrap him in my arms and hold him like a teddy bear. He saw me, and his eyes lit up. A warm feeling I couldn’t identify rushed through me and I frowned slightly as I tried to identify it. The definition eluded me, though, so I inwardly shrugged and started towards Colin again. We lazily exchanged greetings, but I said little beyond that. Colin knows that I like to be mysterious, so he didn’t find my lack of intelligent conversation odd, and indulged me by asking what the special occasion was. I, of course, said nothing and merely smiled enigmatically, pleased that he knew me so well. With luck, that would make things easier. He finally finished the rest of his drink and I offered to get him another one. The look I got would have skinned a Mule and I grinned. Then he asked if I was trying to get him drunk---and I nearly swallowed my tongue. I knew that he didn’t have a clue what was going on, but that didn’t stop my nerves. I managed to smile mysteriously and left for the bar. My heart was racing and my senses were all hyperactive. I don’t know what the bartender saw, but he handed me another one of those drinks and shook his head when I pulled out my wallet. “Don’t worry about it, son,” he drawled. “You’re going to need all the help you can get tonight.” Shaken, I accepted the drink and slowly made my way back through the crowd. As I reached our table, I set the glass down and watched with amusement as Colin looked at it like it was a tarantula. “No, way,” he protested. “I’m not touching that one. My stomach is still thinking about sending back the first one.” That was a lie and I knew it, but I also knew that he was really starting to wonder what was going on, so I simply said, “Come on, Col. Just drink it a little slower this time and you’ll be fine.” He studied me carefully for a second before shrugging and bringing the glass to his lips. With his attention off me for the moment, I sat back and just looked at him. He really is beautiful, with his soft blond hair and velvet brown eyes---and he was with me. I was just starting to feel smug when he spoke. “You know what, Ryan?” he slurred, leaning over and shaking his index finger at me. “If you want to get me drunk for some reason, I’m already there, so you might as well do whatever it is you’re so nervous about.” I blinked, not sure that I had heard correctly, and... well... giggled. There’s no other word for it. I also blushed, which I haven’t done in years, and looked away to hide my expression. My nerves suddenly tingled and I glanced up again. He was watching me with a curious, hopeful expression and something snapped. “Okay, then,” I said, getting to my feet and offering him my other hand. He took it and let me pull him to his feet, downing the last of his drink as he did and giving me a goofy smile. I returned it and led him through the crowd, inwardly amazed at the way it parted like the red sea for me. I must have glowered at someone. The bouncer who guarded the backstage door recognized me and let us in. I really wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going; truthfully, the only thing I was aware of was Colin: the feel of his hand in mine and the warmth of his presence at my side. I know we walked through a group of strippers, but I couldn’t have cared less. Everything I wanted was walking beside me. We wandered aimlessly down a hallway until I saw a door and veered off toward it, pulling it open and ushering Colin inside. He stopped about six steps in and I nearly tripped over myself to avoid running into him. Wondering what had gotten his attention, I looked up---and froze. The room was full of mirrors. They were on every surface and reflecting thousands of images of Colin and I. Hesitantly, I moved closer to him and rested my hands against his shoulders. Our eyes met in the mirror and I caught my breath. His eyes were dark and he looked at me with... I swear it was anticipation. With a deep breath, I let my hands slide down to his upper arms and gently squeezed. He leaned back a little and his breathing got faster. Offering a silent prayer, I gently tugged him around and loosely wrapped my fingers around his biceps. We stayed like that forever until I slowly bent down, watching Colin intently for any sign that he wanted me to stop. He didn’t. Instead, he tipped his head back, locking his gaze with mine, and we watched each other as I closed in on him. My eyes fell shut as our lips met, but I never noticed. My entire being was focused on how sweet his breath was, the incredible softness of his lips, and how pliant he was in my arms. I gently bit his bottom lip and he opened his mouth a little. Cautiously, I slid my tongue inside and twined it with Colin’s. He groaned into my mouth and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me closer. Our bodies came into full contact and I broke the kiss, gasping for air as I stared at him in disbelief. “Why’d you stop?” he breathed, his voice low and throaty. “You... you’re hard,” I whispered, my eyes wide with shock. He laughed softly and drew me closer, pulling my head down. “I thought that was the idea,” he murmured against my lips before slipping his tongue back into my mouth. I moaned in agreement and pushed Colin back until he hit the wall. A soft grunt came from his chest, but we both ignored it as I untucked his shirt and ran a hand across the warm skin of his belly. His own hands slid down, grabbing my ass, and I groaned, pressing closer to him and feverishly working on his belt. Finally, I got the damn thing unbuckled and immediately opened his jeans, pushing them as far down as I could without moving and slipping my hand into his underwear. He eagerly pushed his hips up and pulled his head away, letting it rest against the wall as he stared at me with smoky eyes. I held his gaze as I started to stroke him, smiling with pleasure at the feel of the firm flesh in my hand. His breathing got faster and he began moving his hips, matching my rhythm as his dark eyes burned into mine. My smile widened and I leaned in, capturing his mouth for another deep kiss as I ground my hips against his. His hands slid around to the front of my jeans, lightly brushing against me, and I moaned again. He fumbled with my belt and had just gotten it open when it happened. The door squeaked open, allowing light to spill into the room, and a woman called, “Ryan? Are you in here?” Colin and I froze; my hand was still in his underwear and we were wrapped around each other like spaghetti. “No, no, no, no, no,” I muttered into his mouth, desperately hoping that my fevered brain was simply hearing things. No such luck. “Ryan?” the woman called again. With a sigh, Colin gently pushed me back and quietly said, “You might as well answer; she won’t go away otherwise.” I nodded a reluctant agreement and pulled my hand away, zipping his pants and pulling his shirt back into some semblance of order before turning around. Forcing a smile, I took Colin’s hand and said, “Hi, Mom.” * * * Colin Ryan’s mom blinked at us a few times in the dimly lit dressing room. The hallway was bright in comparison, and we probably only looked like vague outlines to her. At least, I hope that’s how we looked. I didn’t think I could handle trying to explain why I was making out with her son. Hell, I couldn’t even explain it to myself. I thought I was straight, dammit! What the hell was up with this? And why was I so damn hard? At the time, I thought it was just the alcohol. Either that, or Ryan had slipped something crazy into my drink. I didn’t really believe that, of course. I knew he wouldn’t do that to me. But it made a good excuse, and it was easier to believe than the theory that I had just gotten to second base with my very masculine best friend. Whatever it was in the drink must have been really strong, because just standing next to him and feeling his big hand swallow mine was making breathing difficult. Had to be the drink, though. I wasn’t actually *attracted* to him. Something in the drink, and my own hormones. After all, it had been a while since my last real girlfriend, and I wasn’t the one-night stand type. So, guy in his early twenties, been a few months since he had sex, gets kissed and felt up, of course he reacts. Even if the one doing the kissing is another man. That’s all it was. It’s funny how people will try to fool themselves even when they know better. That cold voice in my head kept trying to tell me different. I guess you probably have one of those too. It’s the voice that insists on reality when you don’t want to face it. The voice that says no matter how nice that car looks, you can’t afford it. That says the pretty girl isn’t smiling at you, and if she is, she’s a professional, if you know what I mean. That little voice generally doesn’t have anything good to say, and sometimes it’s wrong, but usually it’s right. Right now that little voice was saying that Ryan would never slip something in my drink. He may have wanted me more relaxed for this, but he would *never* take advantage of me. Maybe my heart was going too fast and my skin felt all tingly, maybe I was so damn hard that it hurt and I wished like hell that his mom hadn’t interrupted us, but that had nothing to do with anything I had put in my mouth. Except, perhaps, for Ryan’s tongue. Damn. Thinking that way was *not* a good way to calm down. I was sure my skin was flushed and as soon as her eyes adjusted, Ryan’s mom was going to take about three seconds to figure out what was going on here. Part of me wanted to say fuck it and go right back to kissing Ryan. Let her watch. Who the hell cares? And I’m pretty sure which part it was. Although I didn’t know it at the time, that’s when it started. As I was struggling to slow my breathing down and trying not to notice how close Ryan was, and the way I could smell his scent, hear his rapid breathing, the first few hairs were abandoning ship. I couldn’t feel it, not in the state I was in. I probably wouldn’t have been able to feel it even if I was calm. It was subtle; just a few extra hairs coming off in the brush the next morning, maybe a few down the shower drain. The tiniest flake of snow can start an avalanche. But the next morning was a long time away right then. We still had Ryan’s mom standing there, and we had no idea how much she had seen. Ryan squeezed my hand one last time and let it go, sidestepping to get a little air between us. I was relieved, in a way. It made my breathing easier to control. I scrubbed a hand across my face, and it came away wet and shaking. “Hi, Lynn,” I said, managing to sound somewhat stable. It occurred to me that I had been drinking---and that would make a good excuse. If I was a little flushed, a little mussed, well, it was the alcohol. And just hope like hell that she hadn’t seen what we were doing. “Colin? Did you come to see Ryan’s set too?” She didn’t *sound* upset, and I’m sure she would have if she had seen us. But then, moms can be tricky that way. Ryan’s mother was a sharp lady; she didn’t miss much. With three teenage sons to deal with, she had to be sharp. She was also tiny, especially when she stood next to Ryan, like she was now. “Uh... yeah,” I replied intelligently. “Actually, Mom, they changed the scheduling on me. I went on earlier tonight.” Ryan sounded pretty calm too. Either he wasn't as affected by the kissing as much as I was or he was a damn good actor. For a moment, I remembered the way he was shaking and heard the moan that seemed to tear from his throat when I touched him... oh, yeah. He was affected. And that was *still* not the way to calm down. I wanted so bad to just pull him back into my arms and kiss him till I came from sheer excitement. The way I felt right then, it wouldn’t have taken long. I couldn’t help glancing over at Ryan, checking the front of his pants. It was a stupid move and I *knew* it was stupid, because if I looked, that might tip Lynn off. However, my eyes moved of their own accord. It’s like when someone tells you not to look down, and you do it right away. So I looked, and sure enough, there was a telltale bulge there. He was standing kind of hunched over, leaning forward, so it wouldn't be as obvious, but it still showed. Ryan had a lot to show; I remembered the feeling of him as he pressed against my hip very well. I looked away quickly, swallowing and trying to think about something boring. Baseball. Garbage trucks. Dog grooming. The price of pork bellies. Anything but the way that hot, solid flesh had felt against my groin, grinding on me... Damn. Focus. “Oh, that’s too bad,” Lynn said, but there was something in her voice that made me nervous. She didn’t sound sorry to have missed the set. She sounded almost like she was trying not to laugh. Oh, shit, I thought. She saw us. She must have seen us. Even if she didn't, what we were doing must be perfectly clear. I glanced at Ryan and saw in his eyes that he thought so, too. “So, what are you two doing in the dressing room?” she asked, in a tone that said she already knew the answer. “Uh...” “Well...” We were hemming and hawing like a couple of idiots and she laughed, shaking her head. “Oh come on, boys. You think I don’t know what’s going on here?” Oh shit oh shit ohshitohshit. There was a long pause while we tried frantically to think of something to say. “Ryan... you get to see enough of them on stage, don’t you? Do you really have to wait in their dressing room to see the strippers? Or are you just trying to impress Colin with where you work?” There was another long pause as my heart slowly climbed down from the ceiling and plopped back into my chest. Ryan let out a short, whistling laugh and I saw his hands uncurl. That reminded me to relax my own hands and I let them hang, trembling at my sides. “Uh... yeah, Ma, I guess you caught me. I just wanted to show Colin around a little. Maybe get him some action, y’know?” Ryan’s eyes were bright with suppressed laughter when he said that, and I very nearly lost it. He wanted to get me some action, all right. Lynn rolled her eyes, putting her hands on her hips. “Really dear, do you have to talk like that?” Ryan shrugged, ducking his head. It was actually kind of cute to see him being so sheepish around a woman who was maybe half his size. “Sorry mom,” he muttered, shuffling his feet. Okay, screw cute, he was *adorable.* He looked up and I must have had one hell of a grin on my face, because he gave me a gentle shove and said “Shut up.” “I didn’t say anything,” I protested, all wide eyed innocence. “You were thinking it.” I just kept grinning at him, and Lynn chuckled at us. I guess she thought Ryan’s blush was because of her. I was glad I had the alcohol as an excuse for my own flushed skin. It felt really hot in there, but I thought that might have just been me. I was still sporting a hard-on that refused go down, and my surreptitious glances at Ryan told me that he was in the same condition. Gotta love those hormones---his mother had just very nearly caught him making out with another man, she was standing not two feet away, and he was *still* horny as hell. I knew the feeling. “Are you still coming over for dinner next Friday, Colin?” she asked, neatly changing the subject. “Oh... right. Sure.” I had forgotten all about it, but that wasn't surprising. The way I was feeling right then, I wouldn't have been able to tie my shoelaces, much less think more than twenty seconds in advance. Ever since Ryan and I had become friends, I was a pretty regular dinner guest with his family. He didn't live with them, but he visited pretty frequently, something I envied. My family was still back in Vancouver. Ryan's parents had kind of adopted me, though, and it was nice to have that kind of environment to hang around in sometimes. Watching him fight with his brothers and eating his mom's good food reminded me of home. “Okay then,” Lynn said briskly, clasping her hands together. “Are you two just going to stay back here?” Oh crap, I thought. Don’t make us leave. Don’t make us walk anywhere. As soon as we start to walk, we’re going to pitch very obvious tents. Ryan and I exchanged a nervous glance, and he shrugged, at a loss for words. I gave Lynn my best ‘deer in the headlights’ look, and she laughed again. “Oh, you boys. Fine, if you want to stay here and wait for the strippers, go ahead. But you be careful, you hear me? Those ladies get around. You don’t want to catch anything.” “Mo-ommmm!” Ryan said, widening his eyes. Then he ducked his head again, digging at the floor with his sneakered toe. Damn, he’s so fucking cute! How did I never notice this before? With his head down and his hands stuck in his pockets, hunching his shoulders and grinning that sheepish grin, with a blush creeping up his cheeks again... Ah, hell. By then, I felt like I was going to be hard for the rest of my freaking life and made myself look away, staring at my feet and my own obvious bulge in the groin area. At least it was dim in here. There was a huge row of light switches by the door, hooked up to the lights that surrounded each mirror. Most of them were off, and we were lit only by the dirty overheads. Lynn smiled at Ryan’s expression and reached a hand up---way, way up---to ruffle his hair. He ducked away, his ears red. “All right honey, I’ll see you later. And I’ll see you Friday, Colin.” I nodded rapidly at her, not wanting to speak. My throat felt funny, and I got the distinct feeling that anything I said would come out in a squeak. “Bye, you two,” Lynn tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the door. Ryan and I mumbled something in return, giving each other a relieved look. I don’t know how, but we hadn’t been caught. We’d been very stupid, doing a thing like that in what was basically a public place. I guess it’s true what they say---God protects fools, drunks, and little children. As she reached the doorway, Ryan's mom paused and blinked against the bright hallway lights. “You boys are going to ruin your eyes trying to look at those pretty girls in a room so dark,” she said. It was one of those mom-isms, like ‘don't run with scissors’ and ‘don't sit so close to the television,’ or ‘don't make that face because it'll freeze that way.’ Then she reached over and flipped all the light switches up. Oh, fuck me till I cry. I quickly shoved my hands in my pockets and turned to the side, trying to hide behind Ryan. He was trying to hide behind me, though, so it didn’t really work. The walls of the little room were lined with makeup tables, and those tables had folding chairs parked in front of them. They were of the cheap gray metal variety---this wasn't exactly a high-class place. But they were good enough to sit on, and that was what I did, plunking myself down and scooting in to one of the tables. Ryan quickly sidestepped and used my upper body to block his mother's view. The lady in question stared at both of us, a puzzled look on her face. I guess we must have looked pretty silly, with that little flurry of frantic movement. My heart was trying to climb up my throat again, and I could feel my face heating up. Had she seen us? She had an odd little smile, and she shook her head slightly before waving at us and walking out. To this day, I still don't know if she knew everything, or nothing at all. To tell the truth, I'm not really worried about it. It's been over twenty years, and she still hasn't said anything about it. If she knew, she didn’t talk, for which I am eternally grateful. As soon as she was gone, Ryan and I turned and stared at each other with identical expressions of incredulous disbelief. Holy hell, we’d actually gotten away with it. Ryan scrubbed a hand across his face and sat heavily on the makeup table in front of me, shaking his head. His position put his groin rather close to my face, and I couldn't help looking at it and licking my lips. He laughed softly and I looked up as he caught my chin in one hand, raising his eyebrows suggestively. I felt a salacious grin stretch my lips and for a moment I thought we would pick up right where we had left off. But then he shook himself slightly and stood up, shuffling awkwardly across the room. Have you ever tried to walk when your pants are *way* too tight? Especially when that tightness is cause by the kind of erection that is so hard it hurts? It’s not easy. “Ryan? Why did you kiss me?” I was still a little tipsy, which explains the bluntness of the question. That, and I really was curious. “Why did you kiss me back?” “Well, crap. I don’t know. I just wanted to.” I said, and he grinned, lifting his hands. “That’s pretty much why I did it too. Although...” He trailed off, and I tilted my head, giving him a puzzled look. He sighed, smiling wryly. “Look, Col...” A pause, and then: “Let’s get out of here. Go somewhere we won’t be interrupted. What do you say?” I blinked at him. “Go somewhere and do what?” Another suggestive smile. “We’ll see what happens.” He paused, and the smile melted, to be replaced by a more serious expression. “But... we do need to talk about this. And if you want, that’s all we’ll do.” Was that what I wanted? I wasn’t sure. I was still horny as hell, but that was only a physical reaction. I didn’t actually have feelings for Ryan. He was a good friend, but it didn’t go beyond that. That’s what I kept trying to tell myself, anyway. “Yeah,” I said, slowly getting up. He smiled again when he saw the way I was moving and shot me a sympathetic look. I shrugged and ducked my head a little, feeling embarrassed even though he was in the same condition. He put a hand on my shoulder, and I jumped a little, staring at him. His eyes were still dark, the pupils dilated, and for a moment I came very close to kissing him again. I actually leaned in a little, feeling an almost magnetic pull. His hand on my shoulder tightened, and I could see his throat working as he swallowed. The sight made me lick my lips, which made his eyes widen marginally. “I think we might do more than talk,” I breathed, and he nodded. We turned and shuffled down the hallway, keeping our hands in our pockets. Even with that help, our condition would have been pretty obvious to anyone who passed us. Luckily, we only saw a few strippers and they were used to seeing guys with our little problem. They just smiled at us and one of them let her hand slip along Ryan’s abdomen as we passed. Even back then, the ladies found him sexy. For once, I wasn’t jealous. She could look all she wanted. He was coming home with me. The cold night air that washed over us when we went out the back door helped a little. It reminded me of how hot my skin was and the fact that I wasn’t wearing a jacket. I shivered and Ryan slipped an arm around my waist. He was marvelously warm and I wanted to swing around and bury my face in the hollow of his throat right then and there. I could still smell him, and his taste lingered on my lips. I found myself wanting to taste the rest of him. I wanted to run my tongue along his throat and gently bite his earlobe. I wanted to pull his shirt off and kiss a trail down his chest. I wanted to taste what I could see pushing out the front of his jeans. I could picture it all vividly in my mind and it was making me crazy. My breathing was turning into harsh panting, and I could actually feel myself shaking a little. It was almost scary. I felt like I was losing control, like my mind was just along for the ride with my overcharged body. When we got to Ryan's beat-up car, we had to separate. As soon as he pulled away from me, I had to fight to keep myself from yanking him back. It was so crazy. I felt like I was white-water rafting or something. There was no real thought, only reaction and sensation. If I had stopped to think, I might have asked myself what the hell I was doing. This was *Ryan,* for crying out loud. I wasn’t actually having these feelings about him, right? About another man? It *was* just physical... right? Sure it was. It had been a while for me, maybe a while for him too, I don’t know. We were young, dumb, and full of come, as the saying goes. He was just a warm body. I kept telling myself that, but it wasn’t sinking in. I was around people all the time, men and women, and I didn’t want them the way I wanted Ryan. When I got in the car next to him, I wanted to climb into his lap. I wanted to run my hands through his hair and kiss him hard enough to hurt. It took about ten minutes to get from the club to my apartment in Ryan’s car. I didn’t have a car, which was why he gave me a lot of rides. It meant I didn’t have to take the bus so often. I tried to help out by paying for gas when I could, and buying the drinks. It was a good arrangement, because we tended to work in the same places and we both liked the same music. Ryan had a tape deck, and we would put in some Led Zeppelin and crank it up, singing along with the lyrics and making people on the sidewalk stare at us. Sometimes if we were in the right mood, we’d make faces at them and watch them look away quickly, only to give us cautious glances from the corners of their eyes. It was the longest ten minutes of my life. We didn’t listen to music this time. We didn’t talk. Ryan drove even more aggressively than usual, eyes narrowed and hands gripping the wheel. I held on and tried to think of something other than how much I wanted him. I had to pull back from the situation. It was out of my control and that was scary. However, it was also very exciting, and a big part of me wanted to just go along and see what happened. What? It is too a big part. I might not have huge feet and hands like Mister ‘six and a half feet tall’ over there, but I wasn’t anything to sneeze at. Now get your mind out of the gutter. Ryan pulled up in front of my apartment and did the fastest, sloppiest job of parallel parking I’d ever seen. He cut the engine and stared straight ahead for a few seconds, breathing rapidly. I wondered what was going through his mind. Then he turned to look at me, and I saw exactly what he was thinking in his dark eyes. I nodded at him, and we got out of the car. We joined hands without thinking about it and did a kind of shuffling run up the stairs. I lived in a cheap third floor walk-up back then, and if you’ve ever had to make your way up three flights of stairs with a raging hard-on, you know how I felt. Ryan had to unlock the door for me. When I pulled my keys out of my pocket, my hands were shaking too badly for me to get the key in the damn hole. Ryan put his big hands over mine and guided me, although he was shaking too. When the key slipped in, we both turned our heads to stare at each other, grinning. The suggestive nature of what we had just done wasn’t lost on us. I locked the door behind us and leaned against it, staring at Ryan through half-closed lids. He walked a few feet into the apartment and then turned around, hands twitching nervously at his sides. He was looking me up and down, and for the first time, I understood what people meant when they talked about being undressed by somebody’s eyes. Raising my eyebrows, I parted my lips and let the tip of my tongue skate along my lower lip. He swallowed. “Colin? Can I ask you something?” His voice was hoarse and I reveled in the satisfaction that rushed through me. *I* had done that to him. “Okay, shoot,” I replied with a smile. He grinned a little at my innuendo and then ran a hand through his hair. I wondered if it felt as silky as it looked. “Are you... am I going too fast? I mean... I didn’t really ask if you wanted this. I just did it. And I don’t want to push you into anything---“ “Ryan,” I said, cutting him off. “I... I don’t know what’s going on here. I feel like I can’t even think. I know that right now I want you so damn bad I can hardly walk straight. I know that it felt incredibly good when we were kissing. And I know that I want you to do it again. Past that...” I shrugged. He smiled at me, his eyes fixing on my parted lips. I kept my back against the door and lifted my arms invitingly. He didn’t need to be asked twice. With two long strides he was against my chest. His groin pressed urgently against mine, and I returned the pressure with a gasp. I could feel his breath on my mouth as he leaned in and I tilted my chin to meet him halfway. For a moment our eyes met, inches apart, and we stared at each other. He looked almost wild, his eyes dark with desire, and I caught my breath. His hands grabbed my hips and crushed me against him, rubbing deliciously. Then his lips touched mine and conscious thought disappeared. * * * Ryan Man, I still can’t believe it! Twenty years later and the memory still makes me break out into a cold sweat. Almost getting caught by my mother while I was making out with my best friend---my male best friend---is a memory that will never, ever leave me. Just thinking about it gets me excited. Not that I’m an exhibitionist or anything; far from it! No, it’s remembering why we were so worried about getting caught; even after all this time, there’s nothing that gets me as hot as remembering that first night. Of course, Colin likes that. Sometimes, especially if we’ve been apart for a while, he’ll remind me of what happened that day. When he does, well... let’s just that it’s a good thing I have thick walls and he lives toward the outskirts of the city. Anyway, back to the game. Colin swears up and down that our first night was the beginning of the end. And, actually, I think he’s right, but it’s so much fun to remind him about the other times that... Oh, I’m getting ahead of myself. Sorry. Let’s see... where were we? Ah, yes. My mother had just interrupted the most passionate foreplay I’d ever had. Well, to make a long story short, I bullshitted around until Mom finally took the hint and let us escape with what little remained of our dignity. Of course, she got revenge by flipping the lights on just before she left; in that moment, I realized that not only did she know, she was perfectly willing to aid and abet us---as long as we weren’t in a public location. So, with that in mind (albeit a very small corner of my mind; Colin was taking up the rest), we got the hell out of dodge. The only other bad moment was when one of the strippers ran her hand over my stomach. I swear, I almost threw up, it was so... so... slimy. Especially when I thought about Colin’s warm touch and his clean, sweet smell. Oh, yeah. I had it bad. Anyway, we managed to get out of the club without disgracing ourselves (and it wasn’t easy, lemme tell you). Colin started shivering the second we got outside; it was chilly and he wasn’t wearing a jacket. So, against every bit of my better judgment, I wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him to my side. Mistake. The feel of him pressed me against woke my body up from the light doze it was enjoying (of course, by then, a feather would have woken me up) and it took everything in me not to throw him on the roof of the car and ravish him. And if Colin had known, he would have saved me the trouble; actually, it would have been a contest to see who got there first. Luckily for everybody (and I do mean that literally), we got to my car right about then and I had to let go. The next ten minutes passed in complete and total silence. Well, verbally, anyway. What our bodies were saying to each other is an entirely different matter. When we got to Col’s place, I did the world’s worst job of parallel parking, killed the engine, and tried to quit shaking. I couldn’t believe how badly I wanted the man sitting beside me. I’d *never* wanted anyone the way I ached for him and I was scared that our physical passion would run away with us. Then Colin turned to look at me and I met his eyes---and that was it. Nothing on this earth mattered except being in his arms again. We got out of the car and stumbled up the three flights of stairs to his apartment, only to wait for another torturous three minutes while Colin almost dropped his keys. Twice. Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer and put my hand over his. His skin was hot and flushed and I fought back a shiver as I gently guided him. Together, we got the key into the lock and exchanged wry grins that were so full of heat it’s a wonder we didn’t spontaneously combust. Colin opened the door and I stepped through, fighting the urge to yank him into my arms, throw him onto the couch (the bed was too far away for realistic consideration), and make love to him until neither one of us could move. The sound of the lock clicking brought my attention back to Colin and I looked up just in time to see him lean back against the door and gaze at me through half-closed eyes. Against my will, my gaze ran over his body while my mind supplied the details of what he would like without all that cumbersome clothing on. He watched me watch him for a few seconds before he opened his mouth, just a little, and ran his tongue across his lower lip. Oddly enough, seeing him do that made me swallow as I began to understand just how fast we were moving, and I took a deep breath. “Col? Can I ask you something?” I rasped out. “Okay, shoot,” he answered with a grin that I returned as we heard the suggestiveness in his words. Mentally shaking it off, I raked my hand through my hair and asked the one question that had to be answered. “Are you... am I going too fast? I mean... I didn't really ask if you wanted this. I just did it. And I don't want to push you into anything---” “Ryan,” he interrupted. “I... I don't know what's going on here. I feel like I can't even think. I know that right now I want you so damn bad I can hardly walk straight. I know that it felt incredibly good when we were kissing. And I know that I want you to do it again. Past that...” He shrugged as his voice trailed off and my tenuous self-control started to shred. Then he parted his lips and held his arms out in a blatant invitation. That was all I needed and I immediately went to him, bracing my hands against the wall and pushing him firmly against the door. The full-body contact had my blood pounding and I bent my head, preparing to take his mouth in a kiss that would leave no doubt about who he belonged to. I suddenly caught sight of his eyes and paused, searching that deep gaze for the final reassurance that this was what he wanted---and as I watched, the passion burning between us flared in his eyes and his hands locked around my hips, pulling me hard against him even as my mouth claimed his. The sensation was indescribable. The spicy taste of his mouth combined with the incredible heat of his body pressing against mine and sent me straight over the edge. I knew immediately that I wasn’t going to last long enough to explore like I wanted to and from the way he was grinding against me, neither was Colin. My hands roughly shoved his shirt up as I dropped to my knees, mouthing his nipples and trailing kisses over his chest and stomach. He groaned deeply and buried his hands in my hair, encouraging me to go even further down. With a satisfied smile, I obeyed. Right about then, Colin’s above-stairs neighbor chose to let everyone in the apartment building know that he was getting some and I jerked back in surprise as a lust-filled scream echoed in time to the thumps we heard on the ceiling. A low, throaty laugh came to my ears and I glanced up. Colin was smiling down at me and there was something in his eyes that made me swallow hard as I cautiously shifted back to my knees. “Are you going to scream like that when I take you?” he asked huskily, his eyes boring into mine. Stunned, I gaped at him for a minute before I managed to regain some semblance of wit. “Only if you do first,” I retorted as I got to my feet and closed the distance between us. He grunted in surprise when I grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the door with one hand while I plundered his mouth with mine and my free hand wandered down until it encountered the top of his jeans. I quickly unbuttoned them (which wasn’t easy, considering that I only had one hand and it wouldn’t stop shaking), tugged down the zipper, and thrust my hand into his underwear. Colin groaned into my mouth and thrust his hips up. Moaning in response, I released his wrists and reached down, trying desperately to tug his jeans off without having to let go of his lips. It wasn’t happening, so I reluctantly broke our kiss and fell to my knees, pulling my hand out of his briefs and grabbing the side of his jeans instead. One firm yank had then down to his knees, which was good enough for me, and I reached up, snagging his underwear and carefully tugging it down as well. All eight inches of flesh bounced free and I licked my lips hungrily as I stared at the magnificent display. Then, distantly, I heard Colin choke, “Are you going to stare at it all day?” “Hell, no,” I shot back as I brought a hand up, taking him in a firm grip and slowly stroking the rigid shaft. A low moan was my reward and I smiled, leaned forward, and captured the head in my mouth. Colin answered me with a strangled gasp and I pulled even more of him in, slowly running my tongue over his length as I did. He tasted salty and I drew back, licking him like he was a soft-serve ice cream cone and reveling in the deep, throaty moans I was evoking. Then he thrust forward, just a little, and I smiled, pulling him all the way in. “Oh, God...” he groaned, shifting his hips and pushing himself further into my mouth. I let him and swallowed every time he thrust forward, gently stroking him in time with our movements. “Ryan... Ry, I’m---oh!” His shout was all the warning I had as he exploded. I never stopped moving and worked him with my hands as I took everything he could give me. When he finally sagged against the door, I let him slide out of my mouth and took a few deep, steadying breaths. My eyes ran up his body and I smiled triumphantly when I saw the disheveled state of his clothes and the glazed look in his eyes. He was breathing like a racehorse and my smile widened to a grin as I licked my lips, getting every last drop, and got to my feet. Of course, I had no sooner stood up than he put his hands on my chest and shoved, sending me stumbling back to his couch. The arm stopped me, so he pushed again and this time I went sprawling, landing flat on my back and watching with anticipation as he pulled off his clothes before attacking mine. Within seconds, we were both naked, and he was lying on top of me, kissing me ravenously and running his hands over every bit of skin he could reach. As good as it felt, though, I couldn’t take too much of it. I was holding myself back by the barest of threads and I think he knew it, because he finally released my mouth... only to start suckling on a nipple. I gasped out something incoherent and buried my hands in his hair, urging him to go further down. He smiled around the aching bud in his mouth and started to obey---and then the ceiling started shaking again. “Does he do that a lot?” I asked hoarsely, flinching as a piece of plaster fell to the floor in the bathroom. “Sometimes,” replied, tightening his hold on my hips and glaring at the ceiling. “And it *would* happen now,” he growled as the thumps began to increase in frequency. “Of course,” I spluttered, trying not to laugh. “But you know what?” I added as I grabbed his head and forced him to look at me. “What?” “I don’t care. I. Just. Want. You.” Each word was punctuated with a small kiss on some part of his face and the last one ended with my tongue in his mouth and his hands wrapping firmly around my throbbing flesh. He began stroking me in a hard, fast rhythm and I thrust up, breaking the kiss and gazing deeply into his eyes. They lit with passion and he nodded before pushing me more firmly into the cushions and sliding down my body. The thumps in the apartment above us were still going strong and Colin paused for a moment to look up and shake his head in bemusement. Then, with no warning whatsoever, he bent down at an impossible angle and took me into his mouth. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was it. My self-control was already non-existent and the feel of that hot, wet heaven closing around me was just too much. I lost it immediately, thrusting up into his mouth and groaning words that I know weren’t English. And somehow, Colin managed to stay with me, taking everything I was giving him and asking for more. Only when I was too exhausted to move did Colin release me and crawl back up my body. He kissed me gently, sharing my taste, before resting his head on my chest and sighing. “That was...” he started, his voice hoarse. I wondered about that for a minute before dismissing it as unimportant and wrapping my arms around him, pulling him closer. “Yeah, it was,” I agreed sleepily, struggling to keep my eyes open. “Colin...” “Hmm?” He sounded as sleepy as I felt and my arms tightened minutely. “I love you.” * * * Colin Oh. My. God. What was I supposed to say to something like that? I mean, yeah, the sex was fantastic. There was no denying that. I think fantastic isn’t even a good enough word. Maybe fantasmagorical. Like, fantastic and orgasmic put together. But... sex and love are two different things, aren’t they? Maybe Ryan had been thinking about this for a while, but it was all new to me. Until about an hour ago, he was just my good friend, and I was a confirmed heterosexual. Now, I was lying naked in another man’s arms, and my lips had a distinctly salty taste to them. Holy hell, I thought. Did I really just go down on him? Did I actually *like* it? Yeah... I did. And I fucking loved it. His arms felt great around me, and I let myself relax into them. If he thought I was asleep, maybe he wouldn’t expect a reply. I mean, was I supposed to say that I loved him too? I know some people say that to anyone. But I don’t use the ‘L word’ lightly. I hear people say that they just love a particular brand of potato chips or that they’re crazy in love with some unreal person on TV. That cheapens the word. I don’t say it a lot. And to my friend---yes, my best friend, but up until a little while ago my totally platonic male friend---I just wasn’t ready for that. So I stayed quiet, and enjoyed being held. It’s different to be held by someone bigger than you. It’s a whole different dynamic. It made me feel protected, somehow. There was a comforting sense of security. Ryan’s arms were long enough to make me feel wrapped up in them like a sleeping bag, and I could feel the strength there. He was probably a bit stronger than me. And for some reason, the thought that he was stronger was... exciting. I’m not the most experienced guy in the world---okay, I’ve been with three girls. Usually, I don’t take the ‘L word’ lightly, and I don’t take sex lightly either. Maybe I’m old fashioned. Deal with it. Anyway, being with a woman is totally different. And I don’t just mean the physical sensations, although that’s certainly part of it. No woman ever displayed the skill that Ryan had shown in oral sex... I shivered just a little remembering it. His arms tightened a bit more around me, but I think it was a reflexive movement. Judging by the way his breathing slowly lifted the chest I was lying on, he was deeply asleep. And how trusting do you have to be, how at peace do you have to feel, to fall asleep so easily with someone you’ve just been with for the first time curled in your arms? But I digress. Ryan was different from a woman because he was bigger and stronger, because his skin was firmer, but still smooth, because of the light spattering of chest hair, the rough stubble on his chin, the way his chest vibrated with his deep voice... and of course, the plumbing. But those were all physical details. I could date a woman from a Russian swim team and get the same thing. What made Ryan so different was the... what do I call it? I think... equality. Yes. I’m not a domineering person---far from it---but with those women, I always felt like I was calling the shots. And you might think that sounds good, but it wasn’t, because I got the feeling that they were just doing it to make me happy. Like they didn’t care one way or the other. I felt desire, urgency, not like it was with Ryan but I still wanted them. And they were just... Passive. Yes. That’s what I’m looking for. I felt like some kind of stupid animal, being ruled by my hormones and carnal urges, and they were somehow above that. They may have wanted it, but not as much as I did. One girl even made me beg. She played and teased me until I was half crazy, so hard that it hurt, thinking about nothing else but what I wanted, what I needed, and she was still calm. She wanted me to beg her to finish, and at first I didn’t believe her. I thought she was just kidding or something. I actually laughed a little bit, but she was perfectly serious. I remember staring at her, and for a moment, hating her a little. Because she was so above it all. She didn’t need it the way I did. I was a beast, and she was this cool ice princess. Finally I did what she wanted, because I was at the point that if I didn’t get any, I’d have blue balls for about a week. And she gave me what I needed, but even after all that buildup, all that desperation, it still wasn’t as good as being with Ryan. Because I hated her a little for what she had done. That was the last time for us. I broke up with her the next day. And I remember that for the longest time, I couldn’t fall asleep that night. She wasn’t even there, she left right afterwards, like always, but I could feel her presence and it made me edgy enough to have trouble sleeping. Maybe that’s why Ryan’s easy drop off into sleep impressed me so much. Anyway, that’s what I’m getting at. The equality. Not in terms of control, or submission, although we were pretty much equal in that way too. We both got what we wanted, and we weren’t afraid to take it. No, I’m talking about the fact that we both wanted it equally. We were both half crazy with lust, thinking with our dicks, and it was great to know that he wanted it just as badly as I did. I didn’t feel like a stupid, hormonal pig for being so damn horny. That’s the kind of equality I think I could never have with a woman. Because, in my admittedly limited experience, they just don’t care about sex the way men do. They can take it or leave it. The desire, the need that I had felt with Ryan would never be there with a woman. So... physically, the relationship was perfect. We’d had mind-blowing sex, sweet, equal sex, and I was sure we could do it again. Hell, some parts of me were considering doing it again just because I was thinking about it. But what about the other thing? The thing he said to me just before he fell asleep? I didn’t know about that one. I was going to have to think awhile for that. You know, at that time, I’d never told anyone that I loved them? I mean, I’ve told my parents, and my little sister, and on rare, grudging occasions, even my brother. I’ve told grandparents and aunts and uncles when I was a child and they wanted to hear it. But all those were... obligations. They were true, at least in the family sense, but I always said it because it was expected. I’ve never just come out and said “I love you” to someone when I didn’t have to. It must have taken some real guts for Ryan to say that. I wondered how long he had known about his feelings for me. What happened that night wasn’t just a spur of the moment thing, I think. The way he was acting all evening tells me that he had something planned, although he might not have thought it would get this far. So he must have known he had feelings about me. And for some reason, I didn’t doubt the truth of what he said. I know some guys will say that after sex, the same way people say they love potato chips, but Ryan had meant it. So where did that leave me? I knew I liked him---and didn’t that just make me feel like a fourth-grader? So, do you like him, or do you *like* him? Should I pass him a note that asks him to check the appropriate box? Sheesh. Anyway, I knew that he was a good friend, a great friend. I knew that I definitely wanted to try sex with him again. I knew that even though I’d never kissed a man before, at least not when I wasn’t on a stage, kissing him felt right. And... that wasn’t the first time we’d kissed, either. We kissed on stage once, a while ago... is that when it started? I remember the look he gave me right after that kiss---usually I can read Ryan, but at that moment he was an enigma. Maybe that started it. Maybe not. Does it even matter? It had started, that’s what counts. And I didn’t want it to end. I liked touching him, I liked talking to him, and I loved (there’s that word again) that he was sleeping cuddled up with me. The last girl I was with before Ryan, the one who told me I had great bedroom eyes, used to stay and sleep over after sex. But she would curl to the edge of the bed and make irritated muttering noises in her sleep if I tried to touch her. I know some guys aren’t into the whole cuddling thing, but what can I say? I like it. Hell, maybe I am gay, I thought. And isn’t that a scary concept? In that enlightened year of our Lord 1981, that sort of thing was rather frowned on. But I’d just had sex with another man. That’s usually the big indicator, isn’t it? But it’s not the only one. I was shy and sensitive and I liked theatre... and I generally kissed a lot of men during improv games. It’s part of the show, just for laughs, but... most of the other guys didn’t do it as much as I did. I mean, Ryan did, but... Oh. Ryan. That’s when I figured out why he kissed men on stage so often. I wondered if he’d just kiss me on stage now, and stay away from the other guys. I mean, now that we were... What? What were we? Going steady? Boyfriends? Oh man, how crazy did that sound? And how was I even supposed to know that he wanted to keep doing this? Because he told me he loves me, that’s how. And I thought... maybe... No. I just wasn’t quite ready for that one. Maybe tomorrow. For now, it was time to go to sleep. I was already halfway there. So I just snuggled in a little closer, taking a deep breath of sweet smelling Ryan and that musky, spicy scent that lingers after sex. It was a good combination. I got the feeling that I’d be smelling it a lot. That was the thought I fell asleep to. * * * I saw the first signs that following morning. It was subtle, in the beginning. A few hairs down the shower drain. A few more coming off in the brush. The beginning of the end. It wasn’t just his mom walking in on us, although that was a big part of it. God, when I think about it, my stomach does this crazy flip. And when she turned those lights on... Okay, let me give you an idea of how much that freaked me out. I remember walking in the woods as a kid, a teenager really. I was about fifteen, I think. And anyway, there was this Air Force base nearby, so planes went overhead all the time. I was used to it. So, when I heard these planes while I was walking, I didn’t even blink. It was normal. Anyway, there I was, walking along, poking a stick at the ground, letting it rattle along the tree trunks, watching the squirrels run around in the trees. Feeling good, basically. I think I was making up something in my head about being an intrepid explorer. I was swishing the stick around like a sword when one of those planes broke the sound barrier right over my head. I was flat on the ground, in the dirt and leaves with my hands over my head, before I even had time to think. For a moment, I think my heart actually stopped. My chest was tight, my eyes were wide and starey, and I could feel my whole body go tense and rigid. It only took me a few seconds to realize that it was some hotshot pilot, deciding to ignore the rule about not going to mach one until he got out over the ocean. But those were a few seconds of pure terror. I thought I was going to die. They call it a sonic boom for a reason. I stood up slowly, absently brushing leaves and sticks off my clothes, and I stared up at the sky. The plane was long gone, but I could make out a couple of jet contrails, white against the blue sky. The woods around me were perfectly silent. No birds, no little furry things rustling in the underbrush, no nothing. I’ve never heard woods go quiet like that. I just stood there, catching my breath, listening to the silence. For a moment, I thought I had been struck deaf. Then one bird called out, cautious, curious, and another answered it. A squirrel chattered angrily and ran up a tree trunk in that gravity defying way they have. And then the woods were normal again. I never forgot that sense of heart-stopping panic, though, and that was how I felt when Ryan’s mom flipped on those lights. I thought for sure we were caught. And maybe we were, and she just didn’t care. Who knows? All I know is that it was hell on my hairline. Then, of course, there was this whole thing with Ryan saying he loved me. I felt like I should say it back. I mean, he went out on a limb, setting his heart out and waiting to see if I would catch it. What if he said it again? I couldn’t always pretend to be asleep. I thought that I should just say it and get it over with. But I didn’t want it to be like that. I wanted it to be real. I just... didn’t know if I felt that way about him. It was a hard thing to wrap my head around. After all, I was still trying to adjust to the idea that I had sex with another man. Ryan chose that moment to enter the bathroom. I had been standing there, staring at myself in the mirror and not noticing the extra hairs in the brush. Ryan was going to have to use it, too. He didn’t have so much as a toothbrush with him, which was a nice little reminder of how crazy with desire we had been last night. “Hey, hot stuff,” he said, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. I was dressed only in a towel, fresh out of the shower, and he was wearing boxers. He lightly kissed the side of my neck, his eyes smiling at me in the mirror. I tilted my head to give him better access, smiling right back at him. “Mmm... you taste good,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. “I’d love to taste more, but I’m afraid I’ve got to get to work.” Ryan grimaced and shook his head, and I gave him a sympathetic look. I knew how much he hated working in that fish packing plant with his dad. “Someday we’ll be millionaires, Ry. We’ll be world famous comedians and we’ll have big houses and nice cars and you’ll never have to look at another fish as long as you live.” He snorted in disbelief. “Sure, Col. But until then, comedy doesn’t pay the rent. May I?” He indicated the sink with a wave of his hand, and I realized I was blocking him. I stepped to the side, leaning against the doorframe and watching him. I was bemused to see light red marks on his back---did I claw him last night? I don’t remember. I might have. The thought made something twitch in my groin area and I shushed it. We didn’t have time for that. But oh, I wished we did. Ryan looked gorgeous, all wiry muscle covered with smooth, tawny skin. His hair fell forward over his ears again as soon as he pushed it back, and darkly blonde curls slipped down the nape of his neck. Have you ever seen that old TV show ‘MacGyver?’ The hero in that show has this kind of long, riffly, spiky hair, and Ryan’s looked kind of like that, only softer. I remember how he smelled. I wanted to come up behind him and wrap my arms around his chest, tease his nipples, hear him moan. I wanted to bury my face in those silky curls of hair and take a deep breath of Ryan. This was more than just physical attraction and it was time that I faced that. I wanted him. Not because he’s beautiful, or because he’s so damn good in bed (or in couch) but because he’s Ryan. Because I can read him, I can trust him, and he always makes me laugh. Because I like being around him. Because... Oh, hell. Here I go. “Ryan?” My voice was shaking, and I frowned slightly, taking a deep breath. “Yeah?” he asked, concentrating on shaving. I watched the blade scoop the white cream away from his chin, leaving smooth, gleaming wet skin, and I wanted to touch it. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to let my cheek touch his, feel the smoothness, feel his eyelashes flutter against my skin. “I... there’s something I want to tell you.” Maybe he heard the tremor in my voice, because he turned around, his face half shaved, the razor still in his hands. Some part of my mind noticed that it was one of those cheap plastic disposable ones that comes ten to a bag. The kind I always bought. So at least he was using a fresh one, and not my personal razor. Not that it should matter, considering what we had done last night. He looked silly with the shaving cream slowly melting on his face, but his eyes were serious. Puzzled, curious, maybe a little concerned. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I looked pale. Why the hell was I so scared? I knew I wanted to say it. I knew it was true and it was how I really felt. He already said it. It should have been easy. “Col? What is it?” Still concerned, and he put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. I felt the warmth that came from his touch, and my eyes slipped shut for a moment. This was right. This was where I belonged. I could say it. I wanted to say it. “Ryan... I... I...” * * * Ryan I was pretty sure I knew what he wanted to tell me, and I know that I wanted to hear it---and once again, our moment was interrupted. And if I had taken ten minutes out of my day and gone to see Divina, the cross-dressing psychic who lives and works in the building next to Colin’s, she would probably have told us what was going to happen. But no, I was too skeptical (and too tight-assed, but that’s another story) to do it. Oh, sorry. Anyway, I was almost positive that Colin was going to tell me that he loved me, and I was holding my breath as I waited for him to finish his sentence. And then... the upstairs neighbor I told you about last night? Yeah, him. Apparently, the woman he’d brought home was expecting more money (dinero does mean ‘money’ in Spanish, right?) and started screaming what sounded like obscenities. I swear that I heard her tell him he could fuck a rubber monkey with a dead fish and a couple of kitchen utensils. Well, that ruined the mood completely and Colin shook his head. “Nothing,” he muttered as he turned away. I sighed quietly and turned back to the sink, pretending to shave while in reality, I watched him get dressed. And he was beautiful: that pale, soft skin, a fantastic ass, and those lean, long legs. And, of course, that thick blond hair. I think he lost more in those eighteen hours combined than he has over all the other crazy stuff that’s happened to us since then---and I’m getting ahead again! Sorry. Where was I? Oh, yeah. The moment was lost, so I sighed and finished shaving, got dressed, and followed Colin out the door. We were going separate directions and he hesitated, staring at me with this expression on his face. He was scared, that much I could tell, but he also wanted to ask me back that night. The struggle was plain to see in his eyes, so I took care of it for him. “See you tonight, Col,” I said carelessly---just before I bent down and kissed him. And believe me, it wasn’t some light peck on the cheek. Let’s just say that it was a good thing that it was a cold morning and leave it at that. When I finally let him go, his eyes were glazed and he had this goofy grin on his face. Before he could say anything (and it wasn’t that I didn’t want to hear it, but I couldn’t afford to miss work), I straightened his jacket collar, turned, and walked away. I could feel him staring after me, though, and as I climbed into my car, I knew that the coming night was going to be... interesting. * * * It was. And the sex... whoa. I’ve never enjoyed fucking the way I did with Colin. It was. And the sex... whoa. I’ve never enjoyed fucking the way I did with Colin. He wasn’t afraid to try anything---which wasn’t always a good thing, since we had a habit of forgetting where we were. There was an upside to getting walked in on eight times out of ten, though---our improv skills got honed to a razor-sharp edge. And, for a while, things were good. We were extremely compatible fuck-buddies. The problem with that hit me about five months into our relationship. We’d decided within two weeks that we had to keep things a secret, at least for the time being. Back then, it wasn’t safe to be gay; hell, it’s not now, but it was lot worse twenty years ago. It took about a month before we came to the conclusion that seeing other people wasn’t going to work. The few times that Colin mentioned someone he’d gone out with, I got violently jealous---and I don’t think he was that excited about dating someone else. And as for my dating life... I tried to see one other person---and walked out while the waiter was getting our dessert. Our living arrangements stayed the same, too. I’d wanted Colin to move in with me (my place was quite a bit bigger), but he’d turned me down, pointing out that if we wanted to keep things a secret, living together would be a bad idea. After thinking about some of the places we’d almost been caught and how hard it was for us to keep our hands off each other, I came to the same conclusion. So, actually, other than the fact that we were having sex, things stayed pretty much status quo. Colin still hadn’t told me that he loved me and I hadn’t pushed, but he knew it and I knew it, and that was good enough for both of us---although getting interrupted every bloody time we were together got really annoying. And even though Colin hadn’t really noticed yet, he lost more hair (exponentially, mind you) every time we were... ah... disturbed. Other than that, though, things were great. We were seeing each other exclusively and our friendship was still strong; it was the perfect arrangement. But then, one night, I realized that it wasn’t what I wanted. I could get sex anywhere and so could Colin (so it might not have been as mind-blowing. You can’t have everything.), and I had reached the point where I wanted something more. I wanted a lover, a partner, someone that I could make love with. And at that time, that wasn’t what I had with Colin. Something had to change. Well, being the mind-reader that he is, Colin surprised me one day. I had my bags packed for the weekend and was waiting for him to get off work, thinking the entire time about how I was going to bring the subject up. My worried musings were interrupted when he knocked on my window and I looked up, startled. Colin was grinning and gesturing for me to roll down my window. “What?” I asked as I obeyed, shivering slightly in the cool evening air. “Move over,” he replied as he started to lean in for a kiss. As much as I wanted to let him, I pulled back and gestured with my chin to the people walking by. He sighed in aggravation (and probably lost a few more hairs) at the necessary secrecy and opened the door, nudging my shoulder to get me to move. Bemused, I shifted my lanky frame to the passenger seat (why I didn’t get out the car and just walk around, I still don’t know) and watched him climb into the car, adjusting the seat and mirrors. When everything was done and he was buckled in, he turned to me, flashed me a blinding smile, and took off. Puzzled, I asked him about his day and got a reasonably coherent response, but he didn’t spice up his commentary with amusing stories the way he usually did and I started to worry. Then he made a left turn into a neighborhood I recognized only because an ex-girlfriend used to live here. It was the rich neighborhood and one that neither of us afford, and I said as much. “Umm... Col?” “Yeah?” he replied abstractly as he moved his head, clearly looking for something. “We, uh... why are we here?” Colin turned to look at me and his eyes were so full of warmth that I felt like a bucket of pure sunshine was being poured over me. “It’s a surprise,” he said quietly, smiling at the confused look I gave him. I mean, I trusted him implicitly, but that was just---odd. I knew that asking him any more questions would be futile, so I simply settled in to enjoy the ride and took advantage of the quiet to watch him. You know, it’s strange. I’ve always loved watching Colin, even from the beginning. People usually say that he’s short when we’re together because I’m so tall (six-six, if you must know). But he’s six-one and he moves so easily and so confidently that I envy him sometimes; it’s not really grace, but... I’m not sure what it is. And in twenty-two years, I still haven’t figured it out. But I love it. Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to ramble. I was so busy watching him that I didn’t notice where we were, until Colin stopped the car and got out. The sound of the door jostled me out of my reverie and I blinked, looking at my lover in confusion as he walked around the car and opened my door, taking my arm and tugging until I got out. I turned in a slow circle, taking in my surroundings---and finally saw where we were. Crown Plaza Hotel Georgia. “Oh, my God,” I whispered in shock, my jaw slowly dropping. “Happy anniversary, babe,” Colin whispered as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close for a hug. I went willingly, dropping my head on his shoulder as I tried to keep my emotions under control. When I finally looked up, my eyes were suspiciously wet and I had to fight to keep my voice steady. “Happy anniversary, Col,” I replied, pulling him in for a kiss. Passion flared the second our lips touched and I quickly pulled away, even though it half-killed me to do it. Just because we weren’t in our home neighborhood didn’t mean that it was safe---and that brought me back to where we were. “Colin, this is---this is incredible, but we can’t afford it.” “Oh, yes, we can,” he replied, his eyes twinkling. And suddenly, all of those extra hours and early mornings started to make sense. But--- “Col, I can’t let you pay for all of this,” I protested. “Yes, you can---and you will,” he said firmly, fixing me with a look that dared me to argue. I thought about it anyway, but my self-preservation instincts were too strong, so I nodded meekly and waited for instructions. “Here.” With a grunt, Colin tossed my duffel bag to me and hefted his own luggage, which he’d put in the trunk the night before, and another mystery was explained. Without speaking, I followed him through a set of glass doors, where he waved away the services of a bellboy, and into the nearest elevator. It was empty and he gave me a look that had me pressing him against the mirrored wall almost before the doors had closed. Of course, I had just gotten his shirt untucked when a bell chimed, indicating that the elevator was stopping. With a muttered curse, I released him and stepped back, running a hand through my hair in an attempt to get it back into some semblance of order. A little old couple got in the car when the doors opened and shot Col and I curious looks, but by then, we’d been interrupted so much that we were experts at making it look like we were just two people who happened to be in the same area. The next stop was our floor and we got off, hauling our luggage and earning yet another probing look from Mr. and Mrs. Belvedere. By that point, I was beyond giddy (and short several brain cells), so I looked the lady and her husband straight in the eye, grabbed Colin’s hand, and brought it to my lips. His eyes widened in surprise, but it changed to amusement when he caught sight of the expressions on the other couple’s faces. They hurried off down the hallway, casting glances at us over their shoulders, and I laughed. Then Colin grabbed me and pinned me against the wall in the hallway and kissed me soundly. I felt my eyebrows rising even as I kissed him back; Col was usually so shy in public. With one hand, he was fumbling with the key, trying to fit it into the room door. It wouldn’t work, so I moved to the side, leaning back against the door and reaching down to help him. Memories of our first night tumbled through my mind and I shifted as my body reacted to the images I was conjuring up. Then the door popped open behind me without the assistance of the key and some part of my mind realized dimly that it must not have been completely closed. Colin turned and gave me a wicked smile as he stepped inside, dragging his suitcase with him. I pitched my duffel bag into the room and slammed the door shut as I yanked him into my arms. My mouth came down on his, swallowing his surprised moan, and I started working on his clothes. Both of our schedules had picked up over the course of the month, so we hadn’t been together in a while, and I had been going crazy. But suddenly, he pulled back. “Wait, wait!” he gasped, putting a little space between us. “Colin, it’s been almost a month,” I said (well, whined, really). “I don’t have much more ‘wait’ left.” “I know,” he soothed. “But I need to tell you something.” My heart stopped. Was this finally it? He smiled at the look on my face and continued. “We’ve been doing this for six months and it’s... it’s great. But I know you want more... and so do I.” A wide smile split my face and I took a step closer to him. “I love you, Ryan Stiles, and I want you to move in with me.” * * * Colin Well, it was out. I’d been planning this for months, the perfect moment, the perfect surprise. Telling him that I loved him was actually pretty easy, once I was sure that it was true. I can even pinpoint the moment that I realized how I felt, if I really think about it. Let’s see... Ah, yes. About a month into the physical aspect of our relationship, we were lying in bed together. We had just made love... again (yes, in case you’re wondering, we did that a lot. Like, five times a day if we could get away with it, to make up for all the touches and looks we couldn’t share in public. That, and because we were both horny guys in our early twenties, and mind-blowing sex isn’t something you just do occasionally if you can do it often.). There were the ten-minute rolls in the hay, of course, but there were also the long, slow, tender sessions.  That’s what we were recovering from that day, and I remember thinking that someone had snuck in and replaced all the bones in my body with jello. I was slumped against Ryan, my head on his chest, being lifted gently with every breath he took. His arm was draped over my back, limp and heavy, and I actually thought he was asleep. I was halfway there myself. “I’ll be home late tomorrow,” he said, startling me. I could feel his voice rumbling in his chest, a vibration against my body. I always loved that deep voice of his. “Oh? Why?” I asked, trying for curious and still coming out disappointed. We weren’t living together, of course, but it was a standing appointment for me to meet him at his place after work. This was because his place was closer to both our jobs, and bigger. Plus, he didn’t have an upstairs neighbor who liked to shout sexual obscenities in various languages at crazy hours of the night. “Oh, that girl I told you about, you know the one...” “Jamie.” “Yeah, that’s her, well I’m supposed to go to dinner with her tomorrow.” He said it casually, but I could feel his heartbeat pick up ever so slightly beneath my cheek. The hand on my back pressed a little harder, the fingers curling in slightly. He was nervous about my reaction. “Oh.” I know that’s not much of an answer, but I couldn’t say anything else. My stomach was folding in on itself and I could feel the muscles all through my back and shoulders begin to ache as tension gripped me. It was jealousy, pure and simple, and I’d never felt it so strong before in my life. Just the thought of some other person getting Ryan’s attention and touches, maybe flirting with him, maybe even kissing him... no. No! Those were *my* lips to be kissing, my hands to be holding, my body to be sleeping next to. My Ryan. Nobody else’s. Mine. My eyes narrowed and I guess Ryan could feel the tension in my body, because he started rubbing gently at my back. I stiffened a little more at the touch, and he dropped his hand, sighing. “Look, Col... we never said we were going to be exclusive. And it does help the whole hetero image if I date girls. You’ve been on a couple of dates yourself, y’know.” That last was delivered in a hurt, petulant tone, and it occurred to me that Ryan had felt just as jealous as I did. “I know. I just... I didn’t realize it would bother me this much. Did it bother you like this, when I went out on those dates?” He shrugged, looking away, but I read enough of an answer in his body. If reading him was easy when we were sitting fully dressed in a bar, then reading him when we’re naked and wrapped around each other is like reading the big ‘E’ on the top of the eye chart. “Ryan... I’m sorry. If I had known you felt that way---“ “It doesn’t matter,” Ryan said shortly. “This is a high profile industry we’re trying to break into, and we need every advantage we can get. If we look stable and normal, with no weird skeletons in our closet, then our chances are better.” “Yeah, I know, I know... We’ve been over all this before, and I know you’re right. It’s just...” His arm came back up, cradling my back and pulling me in for a hug, and this time I let him. I buried my face in his neck, inhaling Ryan---MY Ryan---and enjoying the feel of his body under mine. “If it helps any,” he murmured, “I don’t care about her. I care about you.” He didn’t say he loved me, but that’s because he hadn’t said it, not since that first time. Maybe he knew how uncomfortable I was about saying it back, and he didn’t want to put pressure on me. Trust Ryan to think of me first like that. And trust him to know just the right thing to say to make me feel better. “Yeah... that does help. And I want you to know that those girls I went out with didn’t mean anything either. The whole time I was with them, trying to make small talk and be funny and feeling like a bug under a microscope, I wished I were with you.” He framed my face with his hands and kissed me, gentle and sweet, before pulling back and looking deeply into my eyes. When he opened his mouth to speak, I knew he was going to tell me he loved me again. I could see it in his eyes and feel it in his hands. So I leaned in quick and kissed him again, harder this time, and with a fierce, possessive passion. *Mine.* I think you can guess what happened next. Anyway, afterwards, we drifted off to sleep without any further conversation. We had already found our favorite sleeping position---the classic ‘spoon,’ with Ryan in back. I loved being held that way. I didn’t think about Ryan’s date until the following day, when I let myself in to his apartment out of habit (funny how a habit can form and become solid in as little as a month) and he wasn’t there. Then I remembered the date, and the girl, and the jealousy took me all over again. I paced for a while, and then I cleaned the place up, with the vague idea that he would feel guilty when he came in and saw what I had been doing. I wanted him to feel guilty. Even though we had agreed that seeing women publicly was necessary, and that it didn’t mean anything to us, I still hated it. I didn’t like the dates I went on either. They felt like interviews for a job I didn’t want. I would find myself sabotaging my image, telling the girl that I drank too much or feeding her boring stories, just so she’d be motivated to end the date sooner and I could go be with Ryan. Where I wanted to be. Where I belonged. Ryan came in sooner than I had expected, and as soon as he saw me, he rushed over and swung me up into his arms. He liked to lift me up back then, tilt back, and hug me so tight I couldn’t breathe while I bent my knees and lifted my feet in the air, hugging him back for all I was worth. I loved our greetings. I hoped that we never stopped missing each other when we were apart. “You’re back early,” I said, after he had finally finished hugging me. Not that I was in any rush for him to stop. “I walked out while the waiter was bringing dessert.” “You did what? Just walked out?” I was grinning, almost giggling, and he gave me one of his rare, real smiles. Ryan doesn’t express much on his face, and most of his smiles tend to be put on for show, but I do get the occasional real one shining out, and I love them. I love that I’m the only one who can make him smile like that. “Yep. Walked out. It just hit me that she wasn’t who I belonged with, and I didn’t want to sit there and pretend for another second. You’re where I belong.” Then he kissed me, long and sweet, until I was melting in his arms, and nuzzled my neck a little, but didn’t take it beyond that. He wanted to talk a little more before our bodies took over. “Colin... I don’t want to go out on any more of these pretend dates. I hate them, and last night, when I told you about Jamie... you looked like a puppy that had been kicked. And I hate that it made you unhappy.” I ducked my head a little, feeling childish. His assessment was all too accurate, and sometimes I wished I had his poker face. Everything I feel is always right out there like a billboard. He chuckled a little at my reaction, and kept going. “I also don’t want you going out on any more dates. I know you don’t like them, and they drive me crazy. Just the thought of someone else touching you, or... or kissing you...” His eyes narrowed, and his hands closed over my upper arms in an unmistakably possessive gesture. *Mine,* he was saying, loud and clear. I wanted to be his. I pulled his hips close, so he could feel how much I wanted to be his, and he dropped his head down, letting his forehead touch mine. My eyes drifted shut for a moment, and my hands slid along his waist, feeling the warm skin under the thin fabric of his shirt. The smooth way it slipped over his skin was delicious, and I squeezed a little bit. I could hear our breathing mingling, could feel the bright energy, the life under my palms, like a live wire. Mine. That’s when I realized that I loved him. So, saying it in that hotel room was actually pretty easy. And as for moving in together, I’d thought about that for a long time. Ryan had wanted it from the get go, and I guess it was just my shyness that held me back. I always cared so much about what other people thought of me, even though I knew it didn’t really matter. And the image of two young men living together... well, it wasn’t one that I felt comfortable projecting. But, we were practically living together already. We spent every night together, usually at Ryan’s place, sometimes at mine. All our free time was spent together, going to the occasional movie, (and sneaking into the closed balcony for some necking while we ignored whatever was on the screen) eating out in the city’s finer fast food joints, and ordering takeout from one of our apartments. I had gotten into the habit of keeping some clothes and basic toiletries at Ryan’s place, and he had quite the collection of stuff at my place. So moving in together wasn’t going to be much of a change, and it would save us a hell of a lot on rent money. Besides, we could play it off. Get a bigger, nicer apartment together, and tell people we were roommates just so we could afford the nice place. People do it all the time. After all, we were young, struggling for work, and not making much money, so having a roommate was natural. Hell, if we weren’t sleeping together, I probably would have moved in with Ryan months ago just because it made economic sense and we got along so well. It was my own silly self-consciousness holding me back. So anyway, telling him I loved him and asking to move in wasn’t that hard. And I was pretty sure what his reaction would be. What I was really looking forward to was the surprise I had planned for him. In my bag, there were a few... shall we say accessories? It had been a while for us, nearly a month, and I planned to make this very special indeed. After all, since I’d sprung for that fancy hotel room, I fully intended to get my money’s worth. Meanwhile, a slow smile was spreading across Ryan’s face---one of his real smiles, that made his whole face light up and the gold flecks in his eyes stand out brilliantly. “You... really?” “To which one?” I asked, chucking at the look on his face. Those of you who know him would have recognized it as his gazelle look. “Uh... I don’t know. I guess I’m pretty sure about the first one.” His smile softened and he ran a hand down my cheek, brushing the backs of his knuckles over my skin in the way that he knew I liked. “And... I love you too, just for the record.” “I know,” I said, smirking at him. He chuffed softly, giving me a light smack on the shoulder, before his expression turned serious again. “Are you... you really want to move in with me?” “Yeah, I really do. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and it makes sense. So, do you think you can put up with me all the time?” His grin was like sunshine breaking through the clouds. “Yeah, I think I can manage.” “Good,” I said, and then I kissed him again. Carefully, though, because I didn’t want to get too involved and lose myself. Not tonight---I had something else planned. His hands were already slipping down my chest, pulling at the top of my jeans, and I could feel his breathing getting faster against my lips. Mine was picking up too, and for a moment I leaned into his hands, groaning at the building pressure in my groin, but then I pulled away. Ryan reached for me, trying to pull me back, but I grabbed his wrists. We were both strong back then, but I actually had a slight advantage physically, because he was so damn thin. It had something to do with leverage, and the fact that he had to move such a big frame with only a bundle of wiry muscles. “Col, what---“ “Shhh,” I whispered, hushing his questioning tone. “Trust me.” He cocked his head at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. There was puzzlement and a lot of impatience, but no uncertainty. He trusted me. “Take off your clothes and lay down on the bed,” I said, pointing to the open doorway behind him. I could see the bed through it, covered with deep blue satin sheets. I also saw that the headboard was old fashioned, carved mahogany with two thick posts at either side. Perfect for what I had in mind. “Take off...” he repeated slowly. I got another confused look, but then the corner of his mouth quirked into a smile and he shrugged, walking toward the bedroom and undoing the buttons of his shirt. I watched him walk for a few seconds---Ryan looks just as good going as he does coming, if you know what I mean. Then I pulled myself away from the view and opened my bag. Shoving aside the change of clothes, I pulled out a few items and looked at them, grinning. This was going to be great. “Colin? You coming or what?” I laughed and went to him, keeping the items behind my back. He was sprawled out on the bed, perfectly nude. His smooth, golden skin was beautiful against the dark sheets, and I swallowed. To do this right, I was going to need a lot of self-control. Ryan saw me looking and he bent one knee, drawing his leg up to give me a better view of his erection. As if I couldn’t see it well enough already. My eyes widened and he smiled softly, licking his lips. I remember thinking: Oh hell... it is going to be SO hard to do this slowly when all I want is to jump on the bed and lose myself in him. He could see that I was trying to hold back for some reason, and he let one hand trace lightly down his chest, slowly circling a nipple before traveling down his abdomen and gently cupping his penis. My hips jerked forward in involuntary reaction, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to catch my breath. He was trying to bypass Mister Commonsense and Mister Self-Control, and going straight for Mister Erection. I was going to make him pay for that one. “Roll over,” I said, my voice coming out in a thick wheeze. He grinned and did as I asked, wrapping his arms under a pillow and resting his cheek on it. His bare bum lifted slightly in mute invitation, but I didn’t touch it. Not yet. Instead, I brought out the items from behind my back. Two things I set down on the bedside table, but the third I held onto. It was a small glass bottle filled with clear liquid, and I pulled the stopper out as I toed off my shoes. Other than my now bare feet, I was still fully dressed. Ryan jumped a little when I poured some of the liquid on his back, and he took a deep breath. I could smell it too, mostly vanilla with a hint of jasmine. “Hmm... what is that?” he asked, mumbling into the pillow. “Just some flavored massage oil,” I replied, wetting my lips as I straddled him on the bed and started rubbing the oil into his skin, loving the way it took on a shiny, wet look as my hands passed over it. Ryan groaned happily and let his eyes slip shut as my hands worked over his back. Even in those early days, he had some back problems, and he always loved it when I rubbed it for him. I got a little more of the oil and drizzled it over his legs, slowly running my hands up and down the backs of his thighs. He giggled a little when I touched the insides of his knees, one of his few ticklish spots. Just to tease him, I leaned down and lightly ran my tongue around the little cup formed by the back of his knee, and then came up until I was licking the inside of his thigh. He moaned and lifted his hips again, clearly asking for my mouth somewhere else, but I pulled back. Not yet, Ry... His whimper of disappointment faded quickly as I worked over his legs, kneading at the muscles and smoothing the tension away. I could see him rubbing his groin against the warm satin sheets and I smiled. All the tension that I was milking from his body was clearly settling in one particular area---just where I wanted it. “Turn over,” I said, once I was sure his back and legs were fully relaxed. He complied quickly, his erection bobbing into the air as he flipped onto his back. I looked at it, allowing my desire to show on my face, and he lifted his hips. “Yeah, Col... c’mon, hurry...” Oh no, Ryan. Hurrying is not on the agenda for tonight. I gave him my best enigmatic smile and poured some of the massage oil onto his chest. I ran my hands over the smooth, hairless skin, letting the oil give it a wet sheen. His nipples hardened to peaks, and I let my fingertips trace them in little circles, rubbing the oil around them slowly... so slowly... Ryan arched his back, throwing his head back against the pillow and pressing his chest up against my hands. “Oh God... harder...” He was breathless, his chest rising and falling rapidly under my teasing fingertips. I could feel his heart pounding beneath my palm. I leaned down and lightly flicked my tongue over one nipple. He moaned and tried to press up against the wet, teasing heat, but I pulled away again, pushing him back against the bed with my hands on his shoulders. “Colllinnnnnn...” It was a desperate, frustrated moan and I had to suppress a grin. It was making me crazy, seeing him like this, naked and slick and painfully aroused, but I was managing to control myself. I could feel my erection pressing against my jeans and I shifted slightly, feeling the rough fabric slide over my sensitive skin. I hadn’t worn underwear that day for exactly this reason. My hands ran down his abdomen, tracing small circles just above his groin, and he lifted his hips, trying to press his erection into my hands. I dodged it, instead rubbing more of the oil into his upper thighs. My hands teased that baby smooth area between his thighs, and I let my fingertips skate lightly over his sac, making him shiver. “Colin, please!” he whimpered, lifting his hips again and trying to move his body so my hands would fall where he wanted them. I could see his pulse actually sending minute tremors through his penis with every heartbeat, and a slight trickle of moisture came from the blood-engorged head. I knew from experience (always with Ryan) that being that aroused was almost painful, in a very good way. I ignored his plea, instead tracing my oil slicked fingers between his thighs and letting one caress the entrance to his body in tiny, teasing circles. He tried to press down against my hand, but I pulled it away, smiling at the groan that tore from his throat. “Unnnhhhh...” Ryan finally couldn’t take it anymore and his own hands came down to relieve the demands of his body. I caught his wrists, forcing them back up over his head before he could actually touch what he wanted. I wasn’t that much stronger than him, and he could have broken my grasp, but he let me pin his hands over his head. My face was over his, and he stared up at me, pleading and confused, but unafraid. Something in his expression tugged at me and I kissed him---I couldn’t resist. “Mmm... yeah,” he murmured against my lips as he traced his tongue over mine, pulling my lower lip into his mouth with an almost painful fierceness. It took all the self-control I had, and then a little more, to pull back, but I did. “Shhh,” I said in answer to his disappointed moan. “If you can’t restrain yourself, I’ll have to do it for you.” He just looked at me, confused, his face flushed and his lips parted as he panted heavily. I could feel another wave of pressure building in my groin and I looked away, taking a deep breath. He was just so damn beautiful lying like that, naked and quivering, wanting me with every inch of his body... Focus. This is something you’re both going to remember for a long time. Do it right. Okay then. I let his wrists go, but gave him a stern glance that said ‘keep them over your head.’ He did as I asked, but I knew that if I started teasing him again they would just come back down to where he needed them. I loved that. I loved that I could make him lose control, tease him and make him so crazy with desire that he couldn’t hold back. I would help him hold back. Leaning over, I grabbed the other two items from the bedside table and laid them across Ryan’s chest. Two red silk scarves, diaphanous and light, but deceptively strong. Ryan looked at them, and his eyebrows slowly lifted as he realized what they were for. I smiled and brought one of his wrists up to the solid wooden headboard. Before I tied it in place with the scarf, I looked carefully into Ryan’s eyes. “Is this okay?” I asked seriously. I knew Ryan had never been tied up before, and he’d certainly never been forced into anything sexually, but if he wasn’t comfortable with this, I wasn’t going to do it. “Yes,” he answered simply, his face open and vulnerable, like it had been that first time, in the dressing room. I love you, I trust you, his face said, and I couldn’t resist another kiss. Light and fleeting this time, just a quick brush across his lips; any more and I wouldn’t be able to stop. After I secured his wrists with knots loose enough to let him go if he really pulled at them, I leaned back, sitting on his thighs. He just stared up at me, and his tongue ran along his upper lip in an unmistakable gesture of seduction. I leaned forward, and for a moment his hard flesh was pressed against the equally hard bulge in my jeans. He ground his hips up, thrusting against me, and I made a whimpering moan in the back of my throat. God, how I wanted him. But not yet... there was more fun to be had first. Pulling away, I got completely off the bed and walked across the room. I could feel Ryan’s gaze on my back, could almost see the confused, wanton look on his face. I stood with my back against the doorframe and stared across the room at my lover, enjoying the view. His whole body was slick and shiny with the oil, and it took on a golden glow in the muted lamplight. His chest was rising and falling in quick movements, his lips parted, his eyes dark. Aware that my every movement was being watched, I slowly took my shirt off, letting it drop to the floor. Ryan licked his lips. I brought one hand up and traced it over my chest, leaving a shiny trail of the oil. I traced my nipples the way I had traced his earlier, in slow, careful circles. He moaned as his hips jerked on the bed, tugging gently at the scarves that held his wrists in place. “God, Col...” “What? Do you want to do this? Do you want to touch me like this, make me crazy, make me beg for it?” “Yes, God yes... oh Col, I can’t... you’re...” He was becoming incoherent with desire. I smiled, unbuttoning my jeans and letting them slip down my hips to land in a puddle of fabric around my ankles. Stepping out of them, I kept my back against the wall as I stared across the room at Ryan. I could see his breathing pick up a little more and almost *feel* his hot breath against my body. I brought my hand down to slowly stroke my erection, moaning deliberately as the oil created a slippery sheen between my palm and my sensitive skin. Ryan moaned too, his hips rising off the bed as he thrust helplessly into the air.  “Please... Col, I can’t... oh God, hurry, I can’t wait anymore...” “What do you want? Do you want me to do this to you? Or do you want to tease me, make me pay for teasing you like this?” “Yes, dammit, yes! Now!” That’s what I was waiting for. In a flash, I was across the room and straddling him again. My hand reached for his quivering sex and I stared at it, licking my lips hungrily. Ryan watched my hand creep closer to where he needed it so badly, and his eyes grew steadily wider. I closed my fist over his erection and he groaned in relief, thrusting frantically against my palm. I let him do it for a few seconds, keeping my hand loose and coating his penis with the vanilla-flavored oil. “Tighter Col, please...” I pulled my hand away. His eyes snapped open and he stared at me in disbelief, but the expression turned to urgency as my head lowered toward his groin. I began licking his shaft, nibbling gently around the sensitive head, putting as much pressure into each lick as I could. Ryan whimpered, breathing in gasping moans, his hips thrashing up and down on the bed. “Oh God, your mouth, in your mouth, pleaseohplease...” I let the head slip past my lips and traced it with my tongue, sucking gently. His cry of pleasure and relief made me glad that the hotel had thick walls. He was thrusting up, desperately trying to get more of his length into my mouth, and I pulled back again. “Colin, dammit! What now?” Oh yeah, I think I may have teased him enough. Besides, I couldn’t hold back anymore. His leg was pressed up against my groin, and I was rubbing myself against the oil slippery skin without thinking about it. My own breathing was coming in quick pants and I could feel my heartbeat pounding behind my eyes. I quieted Ryan with a kiss as I reached up and untied one of the knots, freeing his right hand. His arm wrapped around my body immediately and he pulled me close, growling into my mouth and rubbing our erections together. The oil on his body had rubbed off on mine, and we were slipping against each other. I felt like every inch of my skin had become an erogenous zone. I could feel Ryan’s smooth chest under mine, his skin warm and resilient, and his hot, hard flesh grinding against mine in a frantic effort to relieve the sweet, maddening pressure. That was when the door opened. I froze immediately. Ryan was so far into what he was doing that for a long moment, he didn’t stop. Then he paused in reaction to my own stillness, giving me a puzzled look. I was staring to the right, where I had an unobstructed view of the open door and part of the hallway. I also had quite a good view of the middle-aged couple who were standing in said open door, gaping at us. The man had the key still dangling from his hand, and a look of horrified disgust was spreading across his face. The woman’s jaw dropped and her eyes got very wide, but for a moment a kind of fascinated smile quirked at her mouth. I can just imagine the picture we made. Both of us buck naked, shiny with sweat and massage oil, wrapped around each other. Ryan's left hand was still secured to the headboard with the red silk scarf, his other arm was clinging to me, and we were both still very obviously aroused. Ryan spoke first. “What the hell are you doing? Get out of our room!” The woman closed her mouth and tilted her head slightly, giving Ryan a look I can only describe as speculative. I actually moved a little to cover his body with my own, narrowing my eyes at her. *Mine.* “This is our room,” the man sputtered, staring at a point on the ceiling. He couldn’t look at us; his wife couldn’t look away. “Bullshit,” Ryan snapped. “Colin, what number is on our key?” I knew without looking, but I glanced at it again. It was sitting on the floor where it had fallen out of my jeans as I removed them. The big plastic tag attached to the key clearly said ‘Rm 315.’ “We’re in three-fifteen, it says so right on our key,” I said, still glaring at them. Especially at the woman, who was running her eyes over Ryan’s body. “If the hotel screwed up and assigned you to the same room---“ “But this is room three-fourteen,” the man interrupted. “Oh yeah? Then why did our key get us in, huh?” Ryan asked belligerently. I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I remembered how we had gotten into the room. We were kissing in the hallway, and my key wouldn’t work, and Ryan had leaned against the door... I had locked that door behind us when we came in. I knew it. And yet, here was this couple who had obviously managed to unlock it. Because they had a key. The door hadn’t been all the way shut before, and that’s how we had gotten in. We had just been too distracted to notice. “I don’t know how you got in here,” the man said, “but this is not three-fifteen. Just look!” He pushed the door further open until we could both clearly see the gilded metal numbers mounted on it: 314. Oh. Shit. * * * Ryan I have to admit, our six-month anniversary was definitely one for the record books. If that couple had burst in two minutes later, they’d have thought they were visiting Old Faithful. That was also when I started noticing that Colin was losing his hair. Well, be that as it may, they didn’t come in two minutes later, and Col and I had one hell of a dilemma on our hands. We were clearly in the wrong room, but the husband didn’t want us to get up, we had no desire to move (we were already up, if you get my drift), and the woman was about to drown in a pool of saliva; if we had gotten up, she’d have keeled over. So, since my brain had been shocked completely awake, I said the only thing that made sense. “We apologize for the mistake, Sir, Ma’am.” The husband shook his head at the ceiling and choked out, “No harm done.” His wife nodded in eager agreement and I shuddered. Colin felt it and gave me a quick, sympathetic look before turning his attention back to the couple. The ball was still in my court, so I rolled my eyes at my lover and said, “Why don’t you take our room, and we’ll stay here? If you want, we can talk to the front desk tomorrow.” “Yeah. That sounds great,” the man said immediately, his voice almost cracking as he spoke. Colin nodded in approval to me and started to get up, presumably to get the key, but stopped when the still-flustered man quickly moved across the room. Dropping the key to three-fourteen on the desk, he picked our key up. Disgust flashed across his face for a split second and then he was back across the room, ushering his wife outside and giving us one last look. Only when we heard the door firmly close---and lock---did I relax and slump back against the pillows. Colin collapsed on top of me---and promptly burst out laughing. Confused, I looked at him and said, “What the hell is so funny, Colin?” “Us!” he spluttered, his body shaking with mirth. The movement caused a certain area of his body to rub against a certain part of mine and I was abruptly reminded of just where we had been when that door opened. Colin picked up on my change of mood, but didn’t stop laughing, and eventually managed to finish what he was trying to say. “Do you realize,” he gasped out, “that we could go to the moon and someone would interrupt us?” His last few words dissolved into laughter and against my will, my lips twitched. He did have a point. Then he moved against me and my thought processes went south again. “Yeah,” I agreed huskily, running my free hand down his back; the other one was still tied to the bed. His breath caught in his throat when I gently caressed his buttocks and he thrust against me, smiling softly at the expression on my face. “So where were we?” he murmured, skating his lips across my throat. “Mmm,” was the only response I could muster as I buried my hand in hair, tugging his head up so I could kiss him. As his tongue slid across mine, I brought my other hand down---and blinked in surprise from the recoil as the scarf tightened. Experimentally, I tugged, and the knot came free. I instantly cupped his face in my hands and pulled back, looking deeply into his velvet-brown eyes. The love that washed through me as I looked at him was warming and I leaned forward, placing a baby-soft kiss on his lips. “I love you,” I said quietly, feeling the truth of my words all the way to the bottom of my soul. “I love you, too,” he whispered, resting his forehead against mine. We stayed like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being together, but our bodies soon reminded us of how much more ‘together’ we could be. Colin laughed quietly and sat up, running his hand down my chest and taking me in a firm grip. I groaned and pushed my hips up, heightening the sensation as I closed my eyes. When Colin’s mouth closed around me, I almost lost it. He was licking and sucking and rubbing and... Sorry. Let’s just say that he was doing his best to send me over the edge and leave it at that. What I didn’t realize at the time was what else he had planned. His other hand skimmed up the unbearably tender skin of my inner thigh and his fingers lightly teased the entrance to my body. An uncontrollable shudder wracked me and I moaned. This was something we hadn’t tried yet; despite what you may think, I don’t take sex lightly, and even as much as I loved Colin, I hadn’t been willing to give myself to him. Not until we had fully realized what was happening between us. “I’ve been waiting so long for this,” he breathed as he carefully worked a finger into the tight opening. By then, speech was beyond me, so I only nodded---and gasped as his hand tightened. He’s talented, my lover, and I was getting the full range of that talent. The warm weight pressed against my lower abdomen suddenly disappeared and I grunted in surprise. Then Colin’s mouth closed around me again, just as he worked another finger in. The combined sensation sent me straight over the edge and I came hard, crying my lover’s name. He took it all, suckling hungrily as he lapped up every drop. When I could think again, Colin was working my semi-erect penis with one hand while he eased a third finger inside me. As he pushed them in up the knuckles, a wave of pleasure rushed through me and I groaned, shifting my hips and begging him to hurry. “Shh,” he whispered as he moved his hand and his fingers brushed over something that had me arching my back and trying not to cry out. Never, in my wildest dreams, had I ever imaged that I could feel that good. Vaguely, I heard a delighted laugh and then Colin’s lips were covering mine. I kissed him ravenously, pushing my lower body into his hand. Warm, sweet-smelling oil was suddenly dribbled on my groin and I groaned again, deepening the kiss and trying to climb inside him. I was crazy for him to take me and told him that every way I could. Like I said before, Col’s a mind-reader and this was no exception. He pulled his fingers out of my body and replaced them with the smooth, velvet-soft head of his penis. Gently, he pushed and we both groaned. It hurt a little and I tensed; he stopped immediately and looked down, his worried eyes meeting mine. “Okay?” he asked, tenderly stroking my cheek. I nodded mutely and he smiled. “We’ll wait,” he whispered, bracing himself on his elbows and shifting slightly, testing my resistance. His smile widened as I relaxed and he pushed in a little more, his gaze never leaving mine. There was still pain, but it was fading fast, and I moaned softly, sliding my hands down to his hips. Colin pulled back slightly and pushed again, sinking in another two inches. This time, the pain was negligible and was quickly eclipsed by pleasure, to my surprised delight. Having Colin inside me was an odd sensation, but it was one that I liked and I moved beneath him, seeking... something. He gasped and lowered his head, slanting his mouth over mine. My lips parted to his eager tongue and welcomed it the way my body was welcoming his. Without releasing my mouth, he pulled back a little and then thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt and branding me as his. From that moment, I belonged completely and irrevocably to him... and he to me. With a groan of pleasure, he broke our kiss and started to move, thrusting gently as he eased us into a rhythm. Within a minute, I was rock-hard again (it had been a while, remember?) and Colin paused. Smiling, he shifted until he was almost lying on top of me and kissed me, long and slow. Only when I had no air left in my lungs did I pull back, breathing deeply and smiling up at the man I adored. He smiled back, his eyes full of an answering love, and began moving again. Because of his new position, every stroke rubbed his stomach against my penis. The added stimulation built my desire up to a fever pitch and I cried out, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pulling him even further into me. “Ryan...” he groaned, his chest rumbling against mine. “Please!” I begged desperately, tightening around him. His cry echoed around the room as his movements picked up speed. Then he shifted his hips slightly, changing the angle of his strokes, and brushed against a spot that had me clawing at his back and arching mine. A deep growl came to my ears and I smiled... just as Colin hit that spot again. We came together that night. It was one of the most intimate experiences I’ve ever had, and the sheer... emotional impact... behind it is simply unbelievable, even now. When Col and I finally came back to earth, we were both dripping with sweat and covered with oil---and we couldn’t have moved if our lives had depended on it. Colin had just energy left to reach down and grab the bedspread. His hands were trembling as he pulled it over us and I frowned in concern. “What’s wrong, Col?” I whispered, shifting so I could see his eyes. They were full of stars and I swear that I stopped breathing. He looked so... so radiant. It’s the only word I can think of. “Nothing,” he replied, his voice deeper than usual and his fingers twining with mine. “Ryan, that was... that was so incredible. I’ve never felt like that in my entire life.” There was so much love in his voice and in his touch that I felt tears come to my eyes. After searching for so long, I had finally found a place where I belonged. I had finally come home. * * * Colin And that’s how we got started. Our names are always linked together by anyone who knows us. Ryan-and-Colin. That’s us. When Drew calls out a game and it’s for us, he says our names like they’re all one word. We’re joined at the hip, linked together in the minds of all the fans, and so close we nearly read each other’s minds. That’s why it was so damn hard when he moved to Toronto and left me behind. That was back in 1986, when I had finished theatre school and we were both trying to make it in improv. We auditioned for Second City, Ryan got it, I didn’t. Simple as that. Only it wasn’t simple at all. I still get a little choked up when I remember that last night before he left. * * * “I’m not going.” Ryan was pacing, running his hands through his hair and kicking things that weren’t there. “Yes you are,” I answered, watching him pace. “Not without you. It’s not fair, dammit! You and I were the best ones there. We should have both gotten spots.” “Ryan... they only had one position open. We were both good, but you were better.” I was trying to be big about this. Trying to do the selfless thing and tell him to go on, take the great career opportunity, and don’t worry about me. What I really wanted to do was pull him into my arms and tell him to never leave, but that wouldn’t be right. He deserved this chance; he’d worked so hard for it. “We’re best together. Couldn’t they see that? I can’t play off anyone else like I can with you. We’re a team.” He was shaking his head, his jaw set in that familiar stubborn line. “Be that as it may, they only had one spot. And you got it. You *deserve* this, Ryan. And they’re coming back to do more auditions in a few months, I’ll get it then.” I sounded confident, but that was only my newly acquired acting skills. Without Ryan to bounce quips off and pick up where I left off, I wasn’t at all sure of my abilities. Just the thought of getting up on a stage without him made my palms sweaty. He stopped in the middle of the room, staring at the floor. “It’s just not fair,” he muttered quietly. I came up behind him, wrapping my arms around his slim waist and laying my cheek against his back. My eyes fell shut as I squeezed him, taking a deep breath of Ryan. “I know,” I whispered, “but that’s how it has to be. It’s Second City, Ry. You can’t miss this opportunity.” His hands found mine and covered them, his thumbs rubbing my palms. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay with you. We’re doing fine here, can’t I just---“ “No, Ryan! We’re not doing fine, we’re barely keeping our heads above water and you know it. Just look around!” I lifted one arm away from his chest to gesture at our apartment. It was the best we could afford pooling our money together, and it was still little better than a rat hole. The plaster on the walls was dirty and cracked, and the walls themselves were paper-thin. We always knew when our neighbors were fighting, which was pretty much all the time. The windows leaked when it rained, leaving water stains on the floors and weakening the already unsteady wooden framework. The heat only worked sporadically, and we often had to curl together under a pile of blankets at night. Not that we minded. The building itself was in a crime-ridden neighborhood---we’d been broken into three times, but nothing valuable had been taken because we didn’t have anything to take. Most of our money went into eating out because the little gas stove had a really bad leak and eating in the apartment was depressing anyway. What wasn’t spent on rent and food went to clothes, trying to look sharp for our auditions. We were stretched thin, and this Second City thing was just the break we needed. Except that *we* weren’t getting it. Only Ryan was getting it, and although I was trying to be supportive and selfless, I was hurt and jealous underneath. I knew we were both good, but I thought we were equal. Apparently I had been wrong. Apparently Ryan was better. “Then come with me,” he said, but we both knew that wouldn’t work. He was just dragging his feet because he didn’t want to leave me any more than I wanted him to go. “We don’t have the money for me to travel there. Second City is only paying your expenses for that. Plus, living in Toronto is going to be more expensive than here, and finding comedy work will be harder. More competition. I have semi-steady work here, and---“ “I know, I know. I just... I hate this. I don’t want to go.” Ryan brought one of my hands up to his mouth and kissed it, pressing his lips to the knuckle of my thumb. There was something impossibly poignant about the gesture and I pressed my face into his shoulder, swallowing and blinking rapidly. “I don’t want you to go either,” I said, my voice cracking. “But you have to. And when they come back, I’ll audition, and I’ll get in. Then we’ll be together in Toronto. Only a few months apart. We’ll be fine.” Ryan pulled me around to face him and held me tight against his chest for a moment. “We’ve never been apart. Not since... not since we’ve been together.” The phrasing was a little odd, but I knew what he meant. “We’re adults, Ry. We can handle a few months.” “What if it isn’t a few months? What if Second City doesn’t come back to Vancouver in October like they said? What if they do come back and...” Ryan trailed off, avoiding my eyes. “What if they come back and I’m not good enough to get in? I’m scared of that too, you know. You don’t have to pretend it’s not a possibility. Without you...” I shook my head, and then let it drop against his shoulder. “You’re great, Colin. With or without me. We work fantastically together, but even on your own, you’re great. You’ve got real talent, and they’ll see that. I know that if they had two spots open today, you would’ve gotten picked too.” “Yeah? You think so?” “I know so. Six months. I know it seems like a long time, but we can do it.” Now Ryan was reassuring me, when I had started out the conversation trying to talk him into going. We’re funny that way. We take turns being the dependent one, relying on each other in shifts. “Thanks, Ryan. I... I’m going to miss you. So much.” My voice was getting thick again and he brought one hand up to cup my cheek, smiling down at me. We kissed, soft and tender, and then again, with more passion. “This is our last night for a while,” he said between kisses. “Let’s make it one for the record books.” So we did. It was bittersweet. The first time was slow and gentle; teasing, laughing, cuddling. We spent a long time lying on our sides, bodies pressed together, faces only inches apart, staring into each other’s eyes and sharing our breathing. We put our palms on each other’s chests and tried to synchronize our heartbeats. I guess you’d call it tantric. I called it stocking up, getting as much closeness, as much love, as we could before the long dry spell. I cried at the end, and so did he. It’s easier to do that in a darkened room, when no one can see you. We slept a little, curled around each other under a pile of blankets. I tried not to think about how I would be alone in that bed the next night and every night after that for at least six months. Maybe longer. The second time was close to morning, and it was fierce, passionate. I know I bit his shoulder hard enough to leave marks, but not enough to draw blood. I *wanted* to mark him. I wanted everyone to know he was *mine,* and that would never change. He took me with a frenzy that was almost painful, but in a good way. In a *very* good way. We were like animals. I wanted to shut the curtains, block out the light that said it was morning and our last night was over. Saying goodbye at the airport was even harder. I’d been weepy all morning, and I couldn’t seem to pull it together. I felt like an idiot, a grown man acting like that, but I couldn’t help it. When I watched him shaving that morning, I ran up behind him and pressed my face into his smooth back, sobbing. I knew it wasn’t forever, but it *felt* that way. I was so scared that I’d never see him again. Now we were trying to say goodbye in a way that wouldn’t create a public spectacle. I wanted to kiss him, to slip my hands inside his shirt and wrap my arms around his bare back. I wanted to nuzzle into his neck and stroke his hair. Instead I hugged him fiercely, and he hugged me right back. We stayed like that for so long that people had time to stare, get a good long look, and lose interest. We stood, holding each other, while people came and went, planes took off and landed, announcements were called over the loudspeaker and children whined about how long they had to wait. I felt like we were a rock in a river. Everything flowed around us. Ever seen those trick photography movies where traffic turns into a rapid flow of white and red, the stars wheel overhead and the sun flashes through the sky in a few minutes while a tree stands in the foreground, unchanged? I felt like that. We were apart from the world, apart from time. There was only us. And then Ryan’s plane was called, and our time was up. I could feel his trembling pick up a little. Back then his fear of flying wasn’t as bad as it is now, but he still hated it. He stepped back slightly, his arms still linked around my waist, and he stared at me as if he was memorizing my features. “Ask me to stay, and I will.” I came close---*very* close---to doing just that. He was gazing at me with perfect honesty, and I knew he meant it. He would give it all up: his dream of success, the chance of a lifetime... just to stay with me. To make me happy. All I had to do was ask. “Go.” And then I kissed him, because to *not* kiss him would have been a crime. Whoever was watching could just deal with it. He kissed me back, sweet and all too fleeting, and then he was gone. What followed were probably the longest six months of my life. I got enough work to keep the apartment, although just barely. We talked on the phone whenever we could, but conflicting schedules and the cost of long distance put limits on our conversations. When we did talk, it was both sweet and painful. As long as I was working, I didn’t miss him so badly. I had something to focus on, friends to talk to, things to do. At home alone was harder, when the silence would become oppressive. I would sit and remember how our laughter had filled the dingy little apartment, made it brighter and more alive. When Ryan called, or when I called him, we would talk and laugh and tell each other how much we loved each other, how much we were missing being together. But it was all at a distance. When I couldn’t touch him, couldn’t see him and feel his breath on my skin and taste his lips, the sense of intimacy was lost. Those phone calls left me feeling sad and missing him even more, while a small part of me worried that we were drifting apart. When Second City came to Vancouver again, it was just after I had done the ’86 Expo. I went into that audition with more riding than just my career. Getting in meant being with Ryan again, getting passed over meant that the distance between us would only get wider. With that kind of pressure, I was terrified that I might lock up, just freeze on stage, but I didn’t. I was good---damn good, if I do say so myself. My heart was going a hundred miles an hour and my hands were shaking, but my mouth worked just fine. I practically floated off that stage. I knew I was a lock. When I got the call saying I was in, I wasn’t even surprised. I just wrote down the travel information and thanked them, assuring them that I would show up in Toronto when I was expected. Then I called Ryan. “Hello?” he answered, sounding distracted. I could hear a woman’s voice in the background and I felt a fleeting twinge of jealousy, but I was too excited and happy to pay much attention to it. “Ryan! I did it! I got in!” “Wha... Colin? You mean---“ “Yes! I’m in the troupe! I’ve got my tickets and everything.” I had a grin about a mile wide on my face. Ryan whooped like a kid, and I laughed. “That’s fantastic, Col! When are you coming? When can I see you? God, I’ve missed you so fucking much, I can’t wait!” “I know, I’m catching a flight, I’ll be there...” I paused. My tickets had me leaving in two days, giving me just barely enough time to pack and clean out the apartment. But for some reason, I didn’t want to tell Ryan that. When I look back on it now, I tell myself I just wanted to surprise him, but I know it was more. I wanted to catch him off guard. I wanted to see just what he was doing while we were apart. Which was pretty ridiculous; I knew I should trust Ryan and that I was just being paranoid, but... sometimes those sneaking, whispering voices of self-doubt can be very convincing. “I’ll be there in a week---Friday morning. Toronto International Airport.” “Great, I’ll meet you there. What time?” So I made up a time for him, and we chattered excitedly a little while longer. I could hear the woman in the background asking him what he was so hyper about, but his response was muffled. He had covered the mouthpiece to answer her. I don’t know why that bothered me, but it did. We said our goodbyes, and I hung up the phone still excited and happy, but troubled. I had called him at home, and there was a woman there. It was nearly eleven at night in Toronto, and there was a woman there. Those things by themselves meant nothing. I had plenty of female friends, none of whom were any more than friends. And working with Second City, Ryan’s schedule would only enhance his own tendencies of being a night owl. So he had a friend over, so what? I thought about that, but not in a conscious way. I cleared out the apartment and arranged for my few possessions to be shipped to Ryan’s place. I would be staying with him in Toronto, of course. I cut my ties to Vancouver, and was somewhat saddened to see that there was very little to cut. I had no real connections here, no roots. My family was all in Montreal, and my only true friend was Ryan. I never did make friends easily. While I was dealing with all those details, the men in the basement were working. The mind is like a house, if you’ll follow me a little here. The conscious thought portion of our minds occupy only a small room at the top of this house. Then we have the instinctive reactions and the emotions, the simple physical controls, and under them all, the basement. Here big burly men move things around. The items are shrouded, vague shapes under dropcovers. Maybe this one is a couch, maybe that is a lamp, or maybe it is something else entirely. The men who move these things do not think. They are not paid to think. They simply move according to their own rules. I picture them as big guys wearing threadbare coveralls and baseball caps. They belong to a union. They pass each other in the basement and mutter a guttural greeting, then put their shoulder back to whatever they’re pushing. In this way our subconscious functions. Sometimes the forebrain, the boss, will come down and peek at things, lifting the corner of a dustcover and giving a few orders, but the men only pretend to listen to him. They stand with their arms crossed and their eyes hard, watching him and laughing at him silently because he really thinks he’s in charge. So the men in my basement were shoving around the idea of Ryan maybe doing something that he wouldn’t want me to know about. That idea was stacked with the idea that I had lied to him about when I would be arriving---lied without any premeditation. It had just come out, tripped right off my tongue with the greatest of ease. I didn’t think of these things, and yet I thought of them constantly. * * * Toronto was very big and very crowded. Vancouver is not a small city by any means, but it is not a metropolis. I was lost almost immediately, and I had time to regret lying to Ryan. If he had been there to meet me at the airport, I would not be standing on a street corner trying to make sense of a city map and looking for the right bus to take. People were passing me on all sides, seeming to give me contemptuous glances that said ‘tourist.’ I felt very small. I finally gave in and used up some of my small supply of cash to take a cab. The driver knew what I meant when I asked for the theatre that Second City operated out of, and it was only a ten minute drive. I felt pretty foolish when I realized I could have easily walked there from the airport if I had only known which way to go. I was only guessing that Ryan would be working at this hour. It was ten in the morning, and I had been on the plane all night. I was tired, rumpled, jet-lagged, and feeling more insecure with each passing minute. My clever plan to (catch) surprise Ryan didn’t seem so clever anymore. I didn’t know anyone at all here, and all I wanted was to find him, fall into his arms, and let him take care of things for a while. I always hated being in new places. My natural shyness just seemed to take over. Anyway, I used my brand new Second City performer card to get backstage, even though I wasn’t expected until the next day. They had given me today to find a place in the city and get myself situated. I could hear people talking and laughter even before I saw anyone, and my stomach fluttered nervously. I had the crazy idea that I would be kicked to the curb for showing up early. I didn’t *belong* here, and I wanted to go home. Then I rounded a corner, and saw Ryan. He was chuckling, shaking his head as he watched two men play a round of Questions. It was a classic improv game, and one that Ryan and I had always enjoyed. I recognized several members of the troupe on the bare stage. The seats were all empty, but they were still intimidating. Row upon row of them, all facing that stage. I took in all these details with a small portion of my mind. The rest of me was staring at Ryan, drinking in the sight of him. He was still tall, still thin, still beautiful. He looked so much the *same.* I don’t know why, but I expected him to look different. Maybe it was just because it seemed like was had been apart for so long. His outer appearance was just as I remembered it, but he seemed to hold himself differently. With more confidence. His back was straight, not slouched the way he usually did to hide his height, and his laughter was easy, casual, unforced. He looked at home. Exactly the opposite of how I felt. My stomach was still doing nervous flips, and I expected security to clap a beefy hand on my shoulder at any moment and ask just what the hell I thought I was doing backstage. I wanted to run forward and pull Ryan into my arms, bury my face in his chest and feel him lift me into a tight hug. I actually took a step forward, and then I saw something that froze me in my tracks. A slender, petite young woman with straight blond hair stepped over to him and said something, laughing. He smiled at her---a *real* smile---and she cupped a hand behind his neck. I couldn’t see Ryan’s face very well, but I saw the affection on her face all too clearly, and jealousy brought a bitter taste to the back of my throat. My hands curled into fists at my side, and I stiffened, glaring at the young woman. Hands off, I thought. He’s mine. Then my jaw dropped and the bottom fell out of my stomach as he leaned down and placed a light kiss on her mouth. * * * Ryan Those six months that I was separated from Colin were the epitome of hell. We almost never got to talk because the long-distance charges were outrageous. Besides, talking only made the aching hole in my heart worse. I wanted to be with him, dammit! But since I couldn’t be, I made the best of things. The money I was making had more than doubled, so I got a nice place, complete with new carpeting, one and a half bathrooms, and space. As much as I loved being with Colin, we tended to trip over each other in our old apartment. I also started making friends. Since I’d been in Toronto, I’d gained weight, which was a good thing. It eased my back pain, which improved my temper, which improved my general outlook on life. I started hanging out with the guys from the troupe, sharing drinks and stories and managing---for brief periods of time---to forget just how miserable I was without Colin. And it was during one of those bouts of aching loneliness that it happened. Mike Duggan, a vet with Second City, had dragged me out for dinner one Wednesday after work. I didn’t want to go, but Mike was like a pit bull: he gave ‘tenacious’ a whole new meaning. So there we were, sitting in a moderately cheap diner (more money didn’t mean rich), and this girl walks in. She was good-looking and I’ll admit it: long blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a nice, curvaceous figure. And if I hadn’t been head-over-heels in love with Colin, I might have made a play for her. Might. Unfortunately for everybody, Mike had decided that I needed to start dating. I talked about Colin all the time, but no one knew that we were together (that damn secrecy thing; we had more than one occasion to rue our decision on that, but that’s for later). It wasn’t Mike’s fault, though; he was just trying to cheer me up. So he set me up... with Pat. We hit it off right from the beginning. She was sweet and funny and she really, really liked me. And I liked her, too... as a friend. Unfortunately, short of telling her every intimate detail about my relationship with Colin, there was no way she was going to believe me. And, idiot that I was, I didn’t talk to Colin about it. I knew that Pat was falling for me and try though I did, I couldn’t stop it. Mike told her where I lived, so she came over a lot, and my mother had made sure that I had the full set of manners when it came to women: always treat them with respect. And that included opening doors, pulling out chairs, standing when a lady entered the room, and anything else that a gentleman did for a lady. And, aside from the increasing pressure from both Pat and my co-performers for us to start dating, we were really good friends. She was at my apartment the night Colin called and told me that he had made it. I couldn’t hide my joy at the news and Pat asked me what was going on. Knowing that we had to keep our secret, I covered the mouthpiece and told her that Colin was coming to town. That was all I told her, because I was so giddy with delight that I knew I’d blow our secret. I had occasion to regret that, too. After Col and I hung up, I went to Pat and swung her up in my arms. It wasn’t anything more than a friendly hug, meant to express my joy that the man I loved was coming home to me, but she took it differently. It took everything I had to get her out of my apartment without destroying our friendship, but I finally managed to convince her that I needed to get the place cleaned up---even though I had a week, or so I thought. She offered to help, but when she took a good look at the mess on my floor and realized just how much work it would involve, she stammered out something about an early morning and left. I never noticed; my thoughts were centered on Colin. After six months, we were finally going to be together. Needless to say, my dreams were very good that night. * * * The next couple of days dragged by. Since I thought that I had a week, I filled my time with anything I could think of. Colin shipped his stuff to me and I put it away; that took about a day. And then... and then it happened. I was at work and Pat had come to see me. I sighed when I saw her, knowing that I had to make things clear to her, one way or another. But before I could take her aside, Mike got things started with a round of ‘Questions Only.’ It’s one of my favorite games, even without Colin, and I quickly got into the spirit of things. Then I fumbled and lost my rhythm and Mike buzzed me out. Laughing, I sat down and watched Sean and Chris get a thread going. Pat dropped into the seat beside me, lightly trailing her hand down my arm, and I winced. She saw it and said, “Ryan? What’s wrong?” “We have to talk,” I replied hoarsely, getting to my feet and going to the side of the set; we were still visible, but at least it wouldn’t take place in front of everybody. She followed me with a puzzled expression, stopping about two feet away from me. The silence was thick with tension and I swallowed as I looked away. This was going to be harder than I thought, but it had to be done. With a deep breath, I took the plunge. “Look, Pat, you’re a great woman, but...” “Oh, my God,” she interrupted me, her words full of disbelief. “You’re dumping me!” The righteous indignation in her voice sparked my temper and I hissed, “No, Pat, I’m not dumping you. We were never dating, so I can’t be dumping you.” Her eyes widened in shock, but I barreled on. “And since you haven’t taken the hints I’ve been dropping, let me spell it out plainly: I’m in love with someone else. I think you’re a great friend and I like you a lot, but Pat, it will never be more than that.” And just like that, my anger faded and I sighed, looking away. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I really am.” For a long time, neither of us spoke, and only the sound of her breathing told me that Pat was still there. Then her quiet voice broke the shroud of silence. “It’s Colin, isn’t it?” Stunned, I whirled around, realizing too late that my expression would give everything away. Her nod when she saw me confirmed it. “I’d wondered, you know,” she continued, looking off in the distance. “But we hit it off so well, and I just thought that---” “I know,” I said quietly. “And I’m sorry.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered, turning to face me. “Because we have to keep it a secret,” I replied, unable to keep the bitterness out of my words. “Well, why---oooh,” she said, understanding clear in her voice. There was another awkward silence, and then Pat giggled. Confused, I looked up. “What?” “I’ll make you a deal,” she said through her laughter. “Take me to dinner tonight and tell me everything about Colin, and I’ll clear the building when he gets here.” It took me about two seconds to make up my mind on that and I smiled. “Deal.” At that moment, Sean asked Chris one of the sexually provocative questions that he was famous for and everyone burst out laughing. I shook my head in bemusement and told Pat, who had stepped away from me to see what was going on, “Col and I can do better asleep.” “I’ll bet,” she laughed as she stepped back in front of me and curved her hand behind my neck. My only response was a knowing grin and she shook her head before gently pulling me down. Our lips met in a kiss that was light and friendly and I smiled. As I released her and straightened, my spine suddenly tingled and I looked up, turning my head to the right. Colin was staring at me, his mouth hanging open and hurt betrayal filling his eyes. With a muttered “Fuck,” I quickly walked down the aisle towards him. Or, rather, I followed him when he turned and ducked around the corner. Lengthening my strides, I caught up with him just before he hit the door and grabbed his arm. “Let me go!” he spat, trying to pull away. “No,” I replied firmly, tightening my grip. “Not until you let me explain.” “Explain what?” he asked bitterly, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “That you found someone else?” I could feel his hurt as clearly as if it were my own and my chest tightened. I wasn’t angry with him for what he was thinking; had our positions been reversed, I’d have probably thought the same thing. But I knew Colin, and words weren’t going to be enough. Not at first. So I did what I’d wanted to do for six months: I yanked him into my arms and kissed him like there was no tomorrow. His lips immediately softened under mine and his arms came up, wrapping themselves around my neck as he buried his hands in my hair. His tongue wandered into my mouth and I groaned, pulling him even tighter against me and letting my hands roam over his body. It had been so long and I was starving. In fact, I had him backed against the wall and was unbuttoning his shirt when half a thought ran into another half a thought and I remembered where we were. With a groan of disappointment, I pulled away. We were both breathing heavily and Colin’s eyes were glazed. “Now,” I said, my voice thick. “What you just saw was me thanking a friend for doing me a huge favor.” His face immediately darkened and he looked down. A gentle finger under his chin pulled his eyes back to mine and I leaned forward until our foreheads were touching. “I know what you’re thinking and I don’t blame you. But it’s nothing, Col. Nothing. You are my soul mate, the man I love, and the only person I ever want to be with.” “Why didn’t you tell me about her?” he asked, his voice shaking. It was a good question, though he probably wouldn’t like the answer. However, I figured that at this point, honesty would be the best way to go. “Because I didn’t want you to worry,” I sighed, rubbing my thumbs over his palms. “I wish you had,” he muttered, pulling his hands free and leaning back against the wall. Repressing a sigh at the loss of contact, I started to pace, trying to find the words to explain the hell that the last six months had been. “Col... I don’t... fuck,” I trailed off, my steps picking up speed. “You don’t fuck?” he repeated, amusement tingeing his words. Spinning around, I saw a glint of laughter in his eyes before his face closed up again. “Not in six months,” I replied seriously, refusing to release his gaze. “And I didn’t want to. Not with anybody and not for any reason.” I guess he heard something in my voice, because his eyes brightened with hope. The vulnerability in that dark gaze broke my heart and I pulled him into a crushing hug, trying to ease the pain and emptiness of the last six months. His arms came up automatically, but his body was stiff and unyielding and I sighed, blowing his hair back. It was noticeably thinner and my lips tightened. I knew how much his hair loss upset Colin and I couldn’t help feeling that it was my fault. Then his arms tightened around my ribs, pulling a grunt from my chest, and he buried his face in the crook of my neck. He was shaking and I frowned, pulling him a little closer to me and murmuring soft, nonsensical words into his hair. Colin gradually calmed down and his embrace loosened. I wasn’t ready to let go of him yet and my hand slid up, caressing the small of his back and letting my fingertips trace along his spine. He released a shuddering breath against my neck, his arms tightening with a fierce, possessive love, and we stood like that for an eternity. Colin finally pulled away and took a deep breath; his eyes were wet and I smiled shakily, brushing the tears away with tender fingertips. “I love you, Colin Mochrie, and I would never, *never* do anything to hurt you. Ever. And if you never want me to see Pat again, I won’t.” Here I paused and closed my eyes, wishing that I had a drink to calm to my nerves. If he didn’t believe me now, he never would again... and that was an outcome I refused to contemplate. “I love you,” I repeated softly, capturing his face in my hands and resting my forehead against his. “And I belong to you with my heart, body, and soul, for however long we have.” I know it sounds corny, but at that moment, I had never been so serious. If Colin had walked away from me then... I really don’t know what would have happened. But, God be thanked, he didn’t. Instead, he nudged my chin up, forcing my eyes to meet his. They were full of love and shadowed trust and I smiled hesitantly, hope welling up inside me. “I love you, Ryan,” he whispered, taking my face between his hands. “And I know that you would never betray me. I’ve just missed you so damn much and when I came around that corner, the first thing I saw was you kissing someone else.” “I know,” I said quietly, turning my head and kissing his palm. “But as long as you believe me now, that’s all that matters.” “I do,” he murmured in reply, tilting his head back and regarding me with sparkling eyes. “And now that we’ve bled all over the floor, what do you say we get out of here?” I nodded eagerly and he laughed, curving his hand around my neck and pulling me into a kiss. As his tongue made itself at home in my mouth and his hand pressed against my groin, massaging my aching flesh, I groaned and gave myself over to him completely. Colin took instant advantage and pressed me back against the wall, unzipping my pants and slipping his hand inside. He swallowed my gasp of delight and pressed even closer, grinding his hips against mine and sliding his other hand under my shirt. We were completely lost in each other, so naturally... “Ryan? Where the hell are you?” It was Mike. * * * Colin When I saw Ryan kissing that girl, I wanted to be angry with him. I thought I should be *furious.* But I wasn’t. Maybe it was the situation, catching me at a low point. I was feeling very lost and out of place, and I was really counting on Ryan being there to take care of things. Maybe Vancouver meant a crummy apartment and scrabbling for work, but at least it was familiar. It was known, and safe. Here in Toronto I felt very much at sea, especially since I was going to have to live up to the expectations of Second City. It was a whole different league, and some part of me was terrified that it was going to be over my head. I didn’t hate flying the way Ryan did, but it didn’t agree with me either. The flight was an overnight, and I was still on Vancouver time, so it felt like it was about six in the morning. Make that six in the morning *after* I’ve been up all night crammed into an uncomfortable seat in the coach section---not to mention the fact that I had been so excited about seeing Ryan I had barely slept ever since the Second City audition. I was exhausted, I had a headache, my neck was sore from trying to lean against the side of the plane, my stomach kept doing scared fluttery things, and I just wanted to go home. That was my frame of mind when I came around that corner and saw Ryan. I wasn’t angry, but oh, how it hurt. Ever pinch your finger in a door and get lightheaded? Actually physically sick? That’s how this felt. I thought I might throw up. I just stood there and stared, and for a moment I wished I had told him the truth about when I was showing up. If this was going on behind my back, I didn’t want to know about it. It’s true what they say---ignorance is bliss. He must have felt my gaze, though, because he turned, guilty as a man caught robbing a bank. I looked at him, and even though I tried to be angry, all that came was that same sick hurt and an impossible wave of love. I *wanted* him, despite thinking he was seeing someone else. I wanted to pretend that I had never seen that kiss. I wanted everything to be okay with us again. The thought running through my mind was: I’ll forgive you, Ryan. I’ll forgive anything if we can be together again. I couldn’t face him. I didn’t want to hear him tell me it was over, that he’d found someone new. I couldn’t stand to hear that. So I ran, and he followed me. He grabbed me, and I tried to snap at him, to sound angry so he wouldn’t see how close I was to falling apart. I thought if he got angry too, it would be okay. We could yell, fight, break up like men. Does that sound dumb? I guess it was, but that’s how I felt. I didn’t want him breaking the news to me gently, because I would beg him to stay. I knew I would. I thought that if I could just act mad, I could get out of this with my dignity. He wouldn’t get angry with me. He was patient, persistent, and he wouldn’t just let me run away. Instead, he kissed me. And oh, how sweet it was. I’d missed him, missed his touch and his taste and everything about him, for so long. Whatever I did wrong, let me make up for it, I thought. Please, I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose you. I was losing myself in the kiss when he pulled away, and I thought: Now. Now he’ll tell me it’s over. But he didn’t say that. Instead he told me that the girl meant nothing, that she was just a friend. He told me that I was the only one he loved. And I *wanted* to believe him so badly, but I couldn’t just let it go that easily. If I did, what did that make me? Some pathetic person who would let him get away with anything just because I loved him so much? I always treasured the equality in our relationship, and I didn’t want to lose it. So I asked why he hadn’t told me about her. I meant for the question to come out stern and a little angry, but I still couldn’t find any anger. My voice was shaking---hell, my whole body was shaking. He looked so upset, so frantic to make me believe him, and all I wanted to do was pull him into my arms and tell him it would all be forgiven if we could just be together again. When he stumbled over his words a little, I couldn’t resist teasing him, even though it brought hot, prickling tears to the back of my eyes. Teasing him, seeing the flicker of humor in his eyes, only reminded me what I was losing. I thought he was sleeping with her, you see. I didn’t doubt that she was meaningless to him, but that didn’t mean they weren’t sleeping together. And that wasn’t something I could forgive, no matter how much I wanted to. “You don’t fuck?” I asked. “Not in six months,” he said. “And I didn’t want to. Not with anybody and not for any reason.” My eyes widened. I looked at him, reading him, praying he was telling the truth. A little kiss I could forgive easily. But sleeping around... I think what really bothered me about that thought was that I’d been putting myself through hell, spending the last six months alone. I could have had dates, could have brought women---or men---home, but I didn’t. And if he had, well, it wasn’t *fair.* I think that’s what hurt the most. That I had loved him enough to go through that time alone, but he didn’t care enough to return the favor. I actually thought we were over, until I realized he was telling me the truth. I could still read him so well and his feelings were written all over his body; it was in the way his hands shook, the rapid pulse in his neck, the way his eyes brimmed with desperation. He loved me, and he was afraid of losing me. I looked at him, wanting it to be true, but terrified that I was only seeing my own wishful thinking.  Then he hugged me, and nothing else mattered. I think to really understand about hugging, you have to have missed out on a lot of it. Ryan and I understood how important it was, how good it could be. Being in his arms was all I had wanted for the last six months, and now that I was finally there, I couldn’t be angry. I couldn’t resist. I still thought there was more going on than he had told me, but I didn’t care. I was willing to forgive it all. I could feel my throat getting tight and I pulled him closer, burying my face against him. I think he was shaking. I know I was. We stood like that for a long time, but it wasn’t long enough. We had six months to catch up on, and this was only the first drop in the bucket. When I reluctantly pulled away and he started telling me how much he loved me, I couldn’t speak at first. I could feel wetness on my cheeks and I knew I had cried a little, which would have embarrassed me with anyone else. But this was Ryan, and that made it okay. He was talking, saying sweet things to me, but I just wanted to pull him close again. I wanted to do more with my mouth than talk. I told him I loved him too, and I told him I believed him, but... I’m not sure if I did. I do now, of course. Looking back on it, I can’t believe I ever doubted him. But at the time... no, I don’t think I really believed him. I just said I did so we could put it behind us. Because I didn’t want to talk anymore, I just wanted to be with him. It had been so long, and my body was demanding attention stridently. I suggested we get out of there, and his eager agreement did a lot to soothe my leftover insecurities. At least he still wanted me just as much as I wanted him. I could feel his excitement, and I pressed against him, kissing him hard. *Mine.* I knew where we were, but I didn’t care. I had to have him. When I put my hand on him, curled my fist around that familiar heat, I felt almost animalistic. I *wanted* that blonde to come by and see this. To see his flushed skin, the way he was panting, the hungry way he pressed against me, begging for more. She couldn’t make him crazy like this. Only I could. And God, how I wanted to. I wanted to hear him scream my name---*my* name, not hers---when he came. I wanted to see his eyes get dark when I moved my hand. I wanted to kiss every inch of his body and remind myself how he tasted. And more than any of those things, I wanted him to make me feel the same way. I wanted pleasure to erase the hurt that was still twisting in my belly. I wanted to forget the image of Ryan kissing that girl. To *obliterate* it. I wanted to go so crazy with sheer physical joy that nothing else mattered. All the insecurity, the doubt, the worry that I wasn’t enough for him, the lingering belief that he had lied to me... I wanted all that wiped away by the mind-blowing sex that I knew was coming. It wasn’t just love that made me ravish him in that dark hallway, although that was a big part of it. There was also the intense jealousy, the need to claim him as *mine,* and to know that he always would be. When I heard that guy’s voice calling for Ryan, coming down the hall, I didn’t want to let him go. Fuck ‘em, I thought. Fuck ‘em all. He’s mine, and I’m his, and anyone who doesn’t like that can just suck it up and drive on. Luckily for both of us, Ryan still had a little common sense. He pulled away quickly, zipping up his pants and putting his hands in his pockets to hide his erection. I was wearing a jacket, and I closed it in front, hiding my own rather obvious bulge. I was glad of the dark hallway, the dim light covering my flushed skin and rumpled hair. “Hey Mike, this is my friend Colin.” Ryan’s breathing was still too fast, and his words had an odd, ‘just got done running’ sound to them. I also caught the tiniest hesitation before the word ‘friend.’ I wondered just what he had wanted to call me. His boyfriend? His lover? Both would have been accurate, but he said neither. Mike offered his hand and I took it, nodding in greeting. I pumped his hand once and quickly let it go, a smile tugging at my lips when I thought that about thirty seconds ago that hand had been in Ryan’s pants. I wondered how Mike would react if I told him that. Just smiled real big and said, ‘Oh, by the way Mike, I just had that hand all over Ryan’s dick, and he loved it. We’ve been together for a couple years now, and as soon as we get back to his apartment we’re going to fuck like rabbits.’ Then I would grab Ryan and kiss him, making sure to grab his ass, right in front of Mister Interruption here. Wonder how he’d like that? For a crazy moment I actually came very close to doing it. The words were on the tip of my tongue. Then a yammering, panicked voice in the back of my head asked: Just what the hell are you doing? and I snapped my mouth shut. I don’t know what I was thinking in that moment, but it had something to do with the fact that I was sick and tired of keeping the relationship a secret. “Colin is going to be joining the troupe,” Ryan was saying. “He just auditioned up in Vancouver, and he got in.” “Well, welcome aboard, Colin,” Mike said, giving me a friendly smile that made me feel a little guilty for my harsh thoughts about him. I nodded, smiling shyly at his right shoulder. I never did very well meeting new people. I felt Ryan’s hand land on my shoulder and he squeezed gently, rubbing his thumb over the back of my neck. I smiled at him, and we shared a long look. Mike was talking again, but I didn’t hear him. I was looking at Ryan. Some part of me knew we were being foolishly obvious, and rather sappy too, but I didn’t care. Mike cleared his throat and said, “Colin?” “Hmm?” I said, shaking myself a little and tearing my eyes away from Ryan. “I’m sorry, what?” He smiled a little, and I got the feeling that maybe Ryan and I didn’t have any secrets from him. “I was just wondering if you had a place to stay in the city. Because a friend of mine owns a building with some apartments, and I could recommend you to him.” “I have a place,” I said. And it was true---I did have a place. My place was with Ryan. That nervous, fluttery, ‘I want to go home’ feeling in my stomach finally quieted. I *was* home. “He’s going to be staying with me for a while,” Ryan supplied, and Mike nodded. He didn’t look at all surprised. “Well, that’s good. Nice to have a friend in the city, huh?” “Yeah, it sure is,” I answered, smiling at Ryan again. I couldn’t seem to stop. “He actually just arrived this morning,” Ryan said. “A little earlier than I was expecting.” He raised an eyebrow at me, and I felt a flush creep up my cheeks. “Uh... yeah. Slight change of plans,” I said, suddenly finding something very interesting to look at on the floor. “Oh, the overnight from Vancouver? That one is a killer,” Mike said sympathetically. “Ryan, why don’t you take off early so you can help your friend get settled in?” Settled in. Yeah, that was one way to put it. Ryan’s eyes lit up and he nodded quickly. “Really? That would be great, thanks Mike.” “No biggie. See you both tomorrow for practice, though. Colin, your orientation is tomorrow?” “Yeah.” “Okay then, you should be here a little earlier... say, eight. I’m sure Ryan can show you the ropes.” Ryan’s eyes caught mine, and we both smiled. I know we were thinking the same thing: red silk scarves. I shivered as my skin suddenly tightened, and licked my lips. Ryan’s hand tightened on my shoulder, his fingers digging in almost painfully, and his eyes darkened. Mine. We said our goodbyes to Mike and got out of there. Ryan still had that cheap little Toyota, but it was good enough to get us to his place. The car ride from the theater to his apartment was about thirty minutes, and I spent the whole time trying to get into his lap. It wasn’t possible, with the tiny car, his long legs, and the bucket seats, but I tried anyway. I kissed his neck until he begged me to stop, saying I was going to make him crash the car. I laughed and whispered in his ear: “Drive faster.” He shivered, and I saw waves of goosebumps break out on his skin. The fine hairs on his arm all stood up, and I ran my hand over them, not quite touching the skin. He moaned softly and drove faster. My first glance at the inside of his apartment made me stop in my tracks. It was small but spotlessly clean. There were no clothes lying on the floor. No half finished drinks leaving condensation rings on the table. All the wooden surfaces were dust-free and appeared to have been polished. Ryan’s odd collection of knick knacks were carefully arranged, all equally spaced on a little shelf. They were also clean. There were actual curtains hanging in the windows instead of dirty mini-blinds or a sheet. The linoleum in the little kitchenette was old, warped and peeling up a little at the edges, but it looked like it had been recently cleaned---with bleach. The carpet had a few stains, but I could see the straight lines left by a vacuum cleaner. “What?” Ryan was looking at me, a little half smile on his face that said he already knew what I was staring at. I just gaped at him, and he reached over and lightly lifted my chin, snapping my mouth shut. “Okay, who are you and what did you do with Ryan?” I asked, grinning widely. “Oh, shut up. I’m not that much of a slob.” “Uh-huh... You cleaned up cause you knew I was coming, didn’t you?” Ryan nodded, shrugging his shoulders. “I got carried away, I guess. I was just so glad that I was going to see you again... I’ve missed you so much, Colin. I... I can’t tell you how much.” “You don’t have to,” I murmured, the teasing smile melting off my face. Some part of my mind was trying to suggest that *she* had done all this, but I shoved it away. Ryan said it wasn’t like that, and I wanted to believe him. I didn’t want to think about the possibility that something had been going on behind my back. I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else being with him. Ryan pulled me into his arms and kissed me, and I shut my eyes, breathing him in. His taste was intoxicatingly familiar and I ran my hands down his back, stroking his hair and pulling him closer. One hand found the smooth muscles of his ass and I yanked his hips against mine, grinding against the hardness I found there. He gasped and pushed me back until I was against the wall while his lips did incredible things to my throat. I could feel chills wracking my body as the sensations he was producing made me moan into his shoulder. He tore one hand away from me long enough to lock the door, and then he was all over me again. I felt devoured, and I was rapidly losing control. And suddenly, I couldn’t let that happen. There was something I had to know before this went any further. “Ryan, wait,” I said, pushing him away. He whimpered impatiently against my neck, still pressing his groin against mine desperately. “You’re not teasing me now, Colin. No way.” “This isn’t about teasing. I need to know something.” The gravity in my voice must have gotten through to him, because he let me push him back. He planted both hands on the wall behind me and stared into my eyes. He was breathing hard, his skin flushed, his lips parted, and for a moment I very nearly kissed him. I could *feel* his frustration, his need, because it was mine too. “The truth now, Ryan. If... if something happened while I was gone---“ “Col---“ “No, let me finish,” I said, putting a finger to his lips. He kissed it, sending another delightful shiver radiating from my groin, and I pulled it back, giving him a scolding look. “None of that. I’m serious here. If... if you... I would understand. That’s all I’m saying. If you were lonely, needed a little companionship, maybe everyone kept asking you why you weren’t dating---I know people were asking me all the time. So, if something happened... well, I guess I could forgive you.” I held my breath, watching him. Ryan sighed and closed his eyes, briefly touching his forehead to mine. “Colin... I told you the truth, okay? I know... I know what it looked like, but there was nothing there. I would never do that to you.” “You weren’t tempted? Not at all?” “Well...” He hesitated, and I tasted a bitter, metallic hint of fear in the back of my throat. “I... maybe I thought about it a little. But only because I missed you so much. Being apart... it was fucking killing me, Col. I hated it. I don’t ever want to go through anything like that again.” “Thanks for being honest.” I fell silent for a moment, watching his pulse in his neck as I thought. For some reason, I actually felt a little better. Because I had been tempted too. I knew he would be, it’s only natural. And he had told me the truth about it. Which meant that he was probably telling the truth about the blonde. Our bodies were still very close, and I felt him tremble. I looked up, and he was staring at me, his eyes wide and frightened. He was terrified that I was going to leave. No, Ryan, never, I thought. Never in a million years. I pulled him back into my arms and he went with a sigh of relief, burying his head in my shoulder. “I believe you,” I whispered, stroking his back. He nodded and held me a little tighter. I let my eyes fall shut and concentrated on how good it felt to have him pinning me against the wall. I felt surrounded by him, wrapped up securely in warm, solid Ryan. God, how I had missed this. When he kissed me again, I didn’t hesitate. The long wait was finally over. * * * Ryan When Mike came looking for me, I almost cried. I hadn’t been with Colin in six months, the first thing he saw was me kissing Pat, and now this. I know that he lost several hairs due to that little interruption; hell, I probably lost a few! At any rate, I think Mike guessed what was going on. Not, mind, that it was hard to do. He never said anything about it, though, for which I am eternally grateful. He was also generous enough to ignore the fact that Col and I couldn’t take our eyes off each other; actually, I think that’s the reason he let me leave early. It was patently obvious that my concentration was blown all to hell---and I really don’t think that Colin would have let me stay. So we left the building, got in my truck, and headed for my apartment. It took thirty minutes of a very sweet torture before we got there; Colin kept trying to climb inside me. Not that I was objecting to that, mind, but I really didn’t want to have a car wreck two blocks from my apartment. I told him as much and he smiled, skimmed his hand down my arm without touching the skin, and laughed quietly when I moaned at the teasing contact and drove faster. The expression on his face when he walked through the door was priceless. I’m not the world’s neatest person (though not precisely a slob), but you could have eaten off the floor. He teased me about it, but I could see a shadow of worry in his eyes and knew that he was thinking about Pat, afraid that she had helped me. I’d known he didn’t quite believe me when I told him that there was nothing between us but friendship, so his worry didn’t come as a surprise to me. I’d also known that he was so afraid of losing me that he would have forgiven anything; I felt the same way about him, so... “Uh huh... you cleaned up cause you knew I was coming, didn’t you?” he asked, bringing my mind back to the present. I shrugged as I answered. “I got carried away, I guess. I was just so glad that I was going to see you again. I’ve missed you so much, Colin. I... I can’t tell you how much.” I choked out the last few words, because they weren’t anywhere near adequate enough to describe it. You miss a pet or you miss a good TV show. Without Colin, I was empty... I was only half a person. He said something else, but I wasn’t listening. I wanted him in my arms, and---no. No, I needed to hold him, to be with him. I needed to be complete again. So I stepped forward, pulling him close to me, and kissed him. The emotions that rushed through me when our lips met were overwhelming and I shivered, pressing even closer to him. A very hazy thought suddenly reminded me that the door was still open, so I reached back and closed it. One quick move had it locked and then my desperation took over. I ravaged his mouth as my hands began a frantic exploration of his body. He moaned and I pulled away from his lips, burying my face in his neck and filling my nose with his scent. I felt the shudder that wracked him as he pulled me closer and smiled as I flicked my tongue across his Adam’s apple. Then, suddenly, he pushed me away. I groaned in frustration, thinking that he wanted to torture me a little, and rasped, “You’re not teasing me now, Colin. No way.” “This isn’t about teasing,” he replied, his voice deadly serious. “I need to know something.” Frowning, I allowed him to push me back and braced my hands on the wall on either side of his head, meeting his eyes steadily. His lips were swollen, his hair was a mess, and his clothes were rumpled. The need that was pulsing between us was overwhelming and I started to kiss him, but stopped when he spoke again. “The truth now, Ryan. If... if something happened while I was gone---” I couldn’t believe that he was... well, yeah, I could---and I’ll confess that I’d wondered more than once about him. Still... “Col---” “No, let me finish,” he interrupted, gently putting a finger over my lips. I couldn’t resist the urge and lightly kissed it, earning a reproving look from my lover as he continued. “None of that. I’m serious here. If... if you... I would understand. That’s all I’m saying. If you were lonely, needed a little companionship, maybe everyone kept asking you why you weren’t dating---I know people were asking me all the time. So, if something happened... well, I guess I could forgive you.” I watched him take a breath and hold it, wondering how to best explain things. I never thought about lying to him (especially since there was nothing to lie about), but the way I worded my answer... Blowing out a deep breath, I took the plunge and just spit it out. “Colin... I told you the truth. I know... I know what it looked like, but there was nothing there. I would never do that to you.”  “You weren’t tempted? Not at all?” “Well...” That one was a little harder to answer. But he wouldn’t respect a lie and I would never do that to him if I could avoid it. “I... maybe I thought about it a little. But only because I missed you so much,” I hastened to add. “Being apart... it was fucking killing me, Col. I hated it. I don’t ever want to go through anything like that again.” There was a minute of silence before he softly said, “Thanks for being honest.” That was it, and then he got quiet again. My heart was beating like crazy and I started breathing in short, rapid pants as fear took over my mind. I was terrified that he was going to end things and I knew that if he did, that would be it. The world could say goodbye to Ryan Stiles. All of a sudden, I was enveloped in the sweetest warmth I’d ever felt. Colin was holding me like there was no tomorrow and I went willingly, offering thanks to God because I hadn’t completely fucked things up. “I believe you,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. I nodded into his shoulder and we stood like that until I couldn’t take any more and pulled away. Our eyes met again and the love I saw calmed the few remaining fears I’d had. I smiled---a real, honest smile---and leaned in, gently capturing his mouth. It was a sweet, gentle kiss, one that said ‘home.’ We stayed there forever, trading soft kisses, before Colin pushed me back a little and took my hand. Without a word, he stepped to the left and tugged, bringing me to his side. Hand-in-hand, I led him to my---to our---bedroom. We left the lights off and came into each other’s arms again, our lips meeting in another tender kiss. Then I slid a hand down, gently caressing his back, and Colin whimpered, sucking my lower lip into his mouth. The passion we’d been suppressing burst to the surface and I pulled him roughly against me, taking his mouth hungrily as we rediscovered each other’s taste and feel. I was careful to keep a reign on my emotions, though. I wanted this to be something special. So, with that in mind, I sucked on Colin’s tongue one last time before pulling back. He watched with wide eyes as I brought his hand to my lips and kissed each knuckle, letting my lips just barely graze the skin. I did that to both hands, deliberately keeping things slow, and Colin’s breathing gradually calmed. When I felt that our passion wouldn’t run away with us, I began unbuttoning his shirt, lightly brushing each inch of exposed skin with my lips or my fingers. By the time I reached his belt, Colin was fighting to keep his breathing steady and he was shaking. I knew that he wanted me to keep going... and it was tempting. But my desire to show him how much he meant to me was stronger and I rimmed his belly button for a few minutes before reversing directions. I nipped, kissed, and caressed my way back up his chest, pausing briefly to tease his nipples to hardness before running my tongue across the hollow of his throat. When I got to his face, I kissed him quickly before beginning a thorough exploration. Soft moans echoed through the dimly lit room as I lightly traced my fingertips down his nose, across his cheekbones, up his jawline, and over his lips. My own lips followed my hand, my touch as soft as cotton, and I smiled as my last foray across his mouth turned into a kiss that was full of an aching longing. My self-control was starting to go and as I began unbuckling Colin’s belt, I pulled away from that incredibly sweet kiss and rested my face against his neck. That was better, but not much, and my hands started to shake as I unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks. Another moan came to my ears and Colin buried his hands in my hair. I obeyed the gentle pressure and straightened, accepting his kiss and returning it with a passion that was getting harder and harder to restrain. When I had to breathe, I pulled away, smiled softly at my lover, and sank to my knees. His slacks came with me and I carefully pulled them off, noticing with surprise that he wasn’t wearing shoes. Figuring that he had kicked them off while I was otherwise occupied, I finished undressing him and sat back, indulging my senses as my gaze slowly slid over Colin’s body. He shifted restlessly but stayed where he was, apparently content to let me look. There was something unbelievably erotic about what was happening and I finally leaned forward, letting just the tips of my fingers skate across the heated skin of Colin’s inner thighs. A soft whimper was his response and I smiled again, letting my touch get a little firmer and angling my head so that my breath also caressed him. Colin whimpered again, pushing hips slightly in my direction, and I relented. Both hands came to rest just below his waist, holding him steady as I began to lick his sensitive head. “Oh, God...” he groaned, his body tensing. I smiled when I heard him and brought a hand down, gently gripping his waiting flesh. Another groan was my reward and I parted my lips, taking just the cap into my mouth. It felt incredible and I moaned, relishing in the feel of what I had been denied for so long. Colin thrust up a little and I let him, slowly drawing him all the way in. I had been craving this the way a starving man craves sustenance and now that I finally had him, I had no intention of rushing things. My tongue curved around the firm flesh I held so lovingly in my mouth and I gently sucked, reintroducing myself to that unique flavor that said ‘Colin.’ I was slowly stroking him with my other hand and as I swallowed, I distantly heard a choked moan. His hands came to rest on my shoulders, the fingers tightening almost painfully, and he pushed his hips toward me. Contentment rushed through me and I pulled back for just a second before taking him again. “Ryan...” he whispered, his body tensing. I released him once more and tilted my head so I could see his eyes. “Come for me,” I murmured, my hand never stopping its slow, sensual movements as my breath flowed across his hot, hard flesh. Colin whimpered again, then choked off his cry as I took him into my mouth once more. I felt him tense, felt the delicious pain of his fingers digging into my shoulders, and gently raked my teeth over his sensitive head, curving my tongue a little more as I did. It was too much and Colin cried out again as he came, thrusting carefully into my eager mouth. Greedily, I caught every drop, relishing in his slightly bitter, salt-tinged taste. When the storm ended, I ran my tongue across him one last time before sitting back on my heels and looking at him. He was so beautiful that it took my breath away, and it wasn’t just physically. There were so many emotions in his eyes and on his face... the true depth of his love for me, his devotion, the absolute adoration... it was incredible. At that moment, there was nothing between us---and yet, there was so much that it couldn’t be measured. Slowly, I got to my feet, drew Colin to me, and claimed his mouth. It was a deep, searching kiss and I moaned as our tongues slid across each other, twining together deliciously. I got light-headed from the sensations he was evoking and tried to break away so I could take a breath. Colin wasn’t having that and his hands tightened, pulling me even closer and letting me take my air from him. I know it doesn’t sound like a big deal, but the amount of trust that has to be between two people for that to work is just... it’s huge. I trusted Colin that much. And he trusted me. That’s what it’s all about, you know. The love was always there and it always will be. But trust---that’s a different story. If Colin hadn’t trusted me so much, that thing with Pat would have destroyed us. But we trusted each other enough to get past the obvious and get down the heart of the matter. It’s the greatest gift Colin will ever give me. When we both had to breathe, Colin released me, but only enough to start working on my clothes. He didn’t take nearly as much time as I did, which was understandable, but once I was undressed... whoa. He pushed me down on the bed and started exploring from my feet up. Each individual body part was licked, sucked on, or kissed; by the time he reached my chest, I was incapable of doing anything but moaning. Then he latched onto a nipple, scraping his teeth across the tender, aching peak, and my back arched three inches off the bed. With a low chuckle, he gentled me with his lips and hands until I settled back down, panting harshly. He immediately went for the other one, nipping sharply at it before catching it in his teeth, and even though I was expecting it, I couldn't control my response and I cried out. Colin evidently liked my reaction, because he played for a while, doing things to me that I hadn't thought could be done. He finally took pity on me, though, and shifted until he was looking directly into my eyes. I captured his mouth in a fierce kiss and he slid off my body, pulling me over until we were lying on our sides. His hands roamed over my body with a feather-light touch; it was almost reverent and my breath caught in my throat as I opened my eyes. Colin was looking at me with wonder and his hands slid up to my jaw, crushing my mouth against his as a soft moan echoed between us. I finally pulled back from the intensity of his kiss and let my lips skate across his jaw before rolling him over and shifting until I was straddling him. His desire-darkened eyes flared with passion and he reached up, taking me in a firm grip. Throwing my head back, I gasped in pleasure. It had been so long and it just felt so damned good. Actually, it felt too good. My control began to waver and I pushed his hand away, reached over to the table by the bed, and grabbed a bottle of baby oil. Colin’s eyes flared with anticipation when he saw it and he licked his lips. The hunger in his gaze fed mine and I moved until I was kneeling on the bed. Colin instantly spread his knees and I laughed softly, pouring some of the oil on my hand as I eased between his parted thighs. One finger carefully investigated the entrance to his body and my eyes widened in surprise when I met very little resistance. My gaze met my lover’s and I arched an eyebrow in a silent inquiry. He grinned ruefully back at me and huskily murmured, “I’ve missed you. So could you get on with it?” His somewhat impatient question startled a laugh out of me and I obeyed, easing a second finger inside and moving them until Colin’s head dropped back and he moaned. Smiling, I pulled my hand back and gave him a minute to recover before doing it again. This time, his moan was deeper and had an edge of desperation to it and I smiled, pulling my hand free and forcing myself to ignore his disappointed (though incoherent) protest. Quickly, I poured some oil onto my left hand and slicked myself up, wishing that it were Colin instead. I knew, however, that if he touched me, I’d be gone. Instead, I leaned down and kissed him, letting the touch of my lips tell him how badly I needed him and just how much I loved him. He responded with an ardent passion and I pulled away with a gasp, shivering uncontrollably. Then he smiled. It was slow and sexy and so full of heat that my control snapped. I set myself at his entrance and guided my straining flesh into him, moaning at the incredible feeling of being inside him again. I’d wanted to wait and draw it out, but when he tightened around me, I lost it. One hard thrust had me buried completely within him and we both cried out with pleasure. Colin’s nails dug into my back and I hid my face in his neck, breathing raggedly as I tried to regain some measure of control. It worked---barely---and I looked up, catching his eyes with mine and smiling softly. He returned it and slid his hands down to my hips, gripping them firmly as he shifted beneath me. My eyes widened when his muscles tightened around me again and I gave him a look that was meant to chastise. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view), all it did was make me look pitiful enough for him to relent. I took immediate advantage and began to move, quickly finding a rhythm that was hard and fast. Colin’s dark eyes burned into mine as he rose to meet me and the depth of emotion I saw... the love, the passion, the desire, the need... it reached that empty place in my heart that had been there for six months and filled it with what had been missing for so long. I cried out in ecstasy as I let go, giving myself completely to Colin. Distantly, I heard him call my name as he came again, his hands tightening on my hips. It took a while before we came back to earth, but it was definitely worth the trip. I couldn’t have moved from the state of sated exhaustion I was if my life had depended on and Colin wasn’t any better off. The air conditioning suddenly kicked on, letting cool air flow over us, and I sighed in complete and utter happiness. Colin echoed it as he sluggishly turned over, curving his body into mine. I slipped my arm over his chest, catching his left hand and twining our fingers. Warmed by the heat of our love, we fell asleep. * * * Colin I think that those six months apart actually brought us closer together. You don’t really realize how much you need something until you don’t have it anymore. Have you ever heard someone say that they don’t know how they ever lived without instant coffee or microwave ovens or some other convenience? It’s like once you’ve had those things you can’t go back. And once I’d had Ryan, I couldn’t go back to being without him. I know this sounds sappy, but I really don’t know how I ever lived without him. The time before we met is just kind of a gray haze in my mind. I can remember it, but the way you remember a bad dream. We were never apart for that long again. There were times, of course, when our work separated us, but only for a few weeks. Like when Ryan started doing Whose Line in England, and I stayed in Toronto or L.A. God, I hated L.A. It’s not so bad now, but that’s because Ryan is here with me. He has the ability to make any place livable, just by being there. But I digress. My point is, after a rough and rocky start, we were solid again, and inseparable. Second City was great fun, and great for our careers. I really believe that improv is like a muscle that you have to work all the time. If you slack off, quit using it, it will atrophy. So we made sure to use it all the time. We even played around with it at home. We would do simple games of Questions Only or Alphabet, and Ryan would occasionally make up goofy songs. Sometimes we would be lying in bed, my head pillowed on his chest, and he would start humming something tuneless and silly, rhyming little things about how he loved me. I would smack him on the arm and tell him to quit being a goof, but I was always smiling the whole time. I never did the singing games at home---let’s face it, I suck at singing. But I would play Questions with him, and sometimes we would do a thing where we rhymed everything we said. It always reminded me of that thing that Fezzick and Indigo did in the Princess Bride. ‘Fezzick, are there rocks ahead?’ ‘If there are, we’ll all be dead.’ And then Vincini stepping in with: ‘No more rhymes now, I mean it!’ So, right away, Fezzick says: ‘Anybody want a peanut?’ I always loved that movie. So we would do that rhyming thing, and we would have silly, sappy question conversations. I remember one lazy Sunday morning... oh, years ago. We were lying in bed, recovering from some slow, sweet morning sex, and Ryan started the game. “Do you want to go anywhere today?” he asked. “Wouldn’t you rather stay in?” “In where?” he replied, a smile tugging at his lips. “Where do you want to be?” “Don’t you know that I’m already where I want to be?” My hand was trailing lazily up and down his breastbone, and I thumped him lightly on the chest with my knuckles. “Do you have any idea how sappy that sounds?” “Do you have any idea how little I care?” he shot back, dropping butterfly kisses on my neck. “Don’t you realize that tickles?” I murmured, giggling and squirming away. “Isn’t that the point?” “Do you want me to make you pay for that?” I asked, gently pinning his wrists over his head. “Do you have to ask?” I leaned forward and kissed him hard, pulling back only when I started to get lightheaded. “No, I don’t have to ask,” I said, and then I kissed him again. So that was our life, for a long time. We weren’t big stars, but we were doing okay, we were having fun, and we were happy. Then Ryan got a chance to be on a cable show in England that had recently been converted from a radio program. He actually almost didn’t take it because it meant flying and because it meant being away from me. I missed him, of course, but I was glad that he took the opportunity. As you know, it paid off for both of us. So anyway, when he got me a shot on the show a few years later, I jumped at it. Not only did it mean the chance of being on TV, it meant that I would get to go to England with him instead of hanging around our empty apartment and wishing I had money for a plane ticket. Now, as everyone knows, my first time on Whose Line in England I went on without Ryan because they were only willing to fly one of us from Toronto, and I didn’t do so great. Everyone told me that I wasn’t that bad, but I felt terrible about the performance. I can still remember the conversation Ryan and I had after I found out that I wouldn’t be asked back on the show. It was when he picked me up at the airport in Toronto, after I had just arrived back from England. I was tired, discouraged, and I’d missed him like crazy. I believe I’ve mentioned how uncomfortable I feel in new places, and this time Ryan wasn’t there to back me up. It think a big cause of my lackluster performance was my own shyness and lack of confidence, plus the fact that I was miserable with an ocean between us. Anyway, when I got off the plane my head was down and my feet were dragging. It was daylight outside, but other than that I had no idea what time it was. Hell, I wasn’t even sure what *day* it was. Trans-Atlantic travel does that to me. I’d been in England for only a weekend, but I hadn’t slept well the whole time. Part of it was trying to sleep in a strange hotel room. I don’t know if this is true for you, but I’ve noticed that it takes me about three nights to really get solid sleep in a new place. Three nights to get used to a new bed. Part of the insomnia was nerves over the Whose Line taping, and another part was just plain old loneliness. I didn’t know *anyone* in England. And I hated sleeping alone when I was so used to curling up with an armful of warm Ryan. So anyway, I was pretty wrecked when I got off that plane. It was 1991 and I was thirty-four, my hair already noticeably thin on top, but I bet I looked older right then. I *felt* older. I walked off the little movable walkway that connected the plane to the gate and just stood there, looking for Ryan. “Colin!” He was waving, grinning hugely and almost jogging toward me. Just seeing him lifted my spirits and I managed a weak smile. I dropped my bags and stood still, waiting for him. “Col! Mmmm...” He swept me up into one of his big greeting hugs, even though they hurt his bad back. I buried my face against his chest and let him support me. I usually wasn’t that dependent, but this was a special situation. I felt like I could really use a little TLC, and I knew just where to get it. He pulled back, frowning at me in concern. I guess I must’ve looked like hell. I let my eyes slip shut and leaned forward again, tucking my head under his chin. Just being in his arms again was relaxing, and I was nearly asleep on my feet. “You okay?” he asked, supporting me with a firm grasp on my upper arms. I shook my head against his shoulder and sighed heavily. “I want to go home,” I murmured. He hugged me tightly for a moment and then lifted my chin, tilting his head like he was going to kiss me. I wanted so badly to let him, but I caught a glimpse of a young woman and her little boy watching us, their jaws hanging open, and I pulled back. His lips tightened ruefully and he put an arm around my shoulders, ushering me away from the gate. “C’mon, Col, I’ll take you home.” So we got my bags and cleared out of there in Ryan’s car. It was a nice little Honda---Second City had been good to us. There was no denying that he was the breadwinner in the relationship, though. His work on ‘Whose Line’ paid at least three times what stage performances brought us. Maybe that was why I felt so bad about bombing on the show. I didn’t like depending on him like that. I wanted to contribute my fair share, to feel useful and essential again. I curled against him in the car, my head on his shoulder and my hand wrapped around his thigh. He put an arm around me and drove left-handed. Every so often he dropped little kisses on my forehead. My eyes slipped shut and I snuggled against him as I tried to forget the whole past week. “Stop worrying about it,” he said, squeezing me gently. I’d already told him about my unfunny performance and the fact that I wasn’t being asked back the day before, over the phone. He’d tried to be reassuring then, but there’s only so much a tinny voice running through thousands of miles of cable can do. When the words were whispered in my ear and reinforced by his warm embrace, they were a lot more believable. “I’m not worrying.” “Uh-huh,” he replied skeptically. “C’mon Col, I’m sure you were fine. They just didn’t appreciate you.” “You weren’t there,” I said stubbornly. “You didn’t see me. I was terrible, Ry. You’d think I’d never done improv before. The could’ve pulled someone from the audience and gotten a better performance.” “Hush. Now I know that’s not true. You’re *good,* Col. They probably just didn’t get you. Cultural differences. I have a hard time with it myself when I’m over there.” “Yeah, but you managed to become a semi-regular. Obviously the cultural differences didn’t slow you down.” Try as I might, I couldn’t keep the bitter tinge out of my voice, and Ryan sighed. “You had a bad deal from the get-go. You told me that you didn’t even meet the people you performed with until an hour before the show. Plus they all knew each other and you were the new guy. How could you be expected to have any kind of chemistry with them?” “Yeah... they did kinda shut me out. I just... I felt so out of place, y’know? I didn’t get the references to their TV shows and government and stuff about public figures that I’d never heard of...” “See?” Ryan said, tilting his head to look at me. “It wasn’t your fault. You went in and did the best you could with a bad situation. I know how you hate new places, and they didn’t give you any time to get adjusted. They just threw you in the water and expected you to swim.” “Yeah,” I murmured, slumping against him as some of the tension melted out of my body. What he was saying made sense, and I was starting to not feel like such a loser. “Besides, *you* know you’re great, and *I* know you’re great---who cares about some stuffy English guys? They wouldn’t know funny if it bit them on the ass.” I actually chuckled a little at that one, and Ryan kissed my forehead again. I closed my eyes and burrowed against his neck, nuzzling the sensitive spot just behind his jaw. He made a purring sound of approval in his throat and I gently nibbled on his earlobe, making him gasp. The car swerved slightly as his body jerked in reaction. “Jeez Col, you trying to make me wreck the car?” he asked with a smile. “You know what, Ryan?” “What?” “I love you.” Then I dropped my hand into his lap and pressed it between his legs, where he was already semi-hard. The car swerved a little more noticeably that time. “Colin...” Ryan’s voice came out in a breathy moan, and I smiled against his neck. “Can’t you wait until we get home? I can’t drive when you do that. Hell, I can’t even *think* when you do that.” The poor guy was almost pleading, but I wasn’t about to take mercy on him. “I just want to thank you,” I said, giving him another gentle squeeze. “Mmm... for what?” he said thickly, his hips rising off the seat to press into my hand. I rubbed him through his jeans, and he tilted his head back, closing his eyes and moaning for a moment before shaking himself and concentrating on the road. “For taking a really shitty mood and turning it around. For making me feel good again. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Ry.” He turned his head to look at me and I kissed him. I couldn’t help it. A horn honked loudly and he yanked at the wheel, pulling us back into our lane. We both ducked sheepishly, looking over at the guy in the pickup truck who we had nearly sideswiped. The irritated look on his face turned to dawning realization and then disgust as he noticed the way I was practically in Ryan’s lap, and he hit the gas, pulling away from us. Ryan and I looked at each other and shrugged. “Maybe I should wait until we get home, huh?” I said, giving him a wry smile. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” he replied, sounding disappointed. I gave him another squeeze and he arched up off the seat again, closing his eyes and blowing a quick breath out through his teeth. “So I should move my hand?” I asked, giving him my best innocent look. “Yeah.” I started to pull my hand back, but he grabbed my wrist and put it back in place. “That’s not what I meant by move your hand.” I laughed against his neck and continued to gently stroke him through his jeans. I could feel his chest moving as his breathing quickened, catching in his throat. He was making little approving humming noises and lifting his hips to thrust against my hand, and the car was beginning to weave again. I kept one eye on the road, which was luckily pretty empty, and one eye on Ryan. His lips were parted as he panted, his eyes half-lidded and dark. I kissed his throat, letting my tongue flick across the sensitive skin of his jawline, and he groaned, pressing harder against my hand. I’m not sure when the siren started, but it took me a while to notice it. We were stopped at a red light and Ryan was getting very close to making a spot on his jeans when the flashing blue lights in the rearview mirror caught my eye. Like that was a trigger, the sensual haze that I felt watching Ryan get so aroused evaporated, and the real world flooded in. I could hear the whooping siren being shut off, and as I watched, the cop got off his motorcycle and started walking toward the car. I pulled my hand away from Ryan, but he yanked it back with something almost like a growl and pressed it where he needed it, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. I let him do it while I watched the cop approach us. His eyes were hidden behind reflective sunglasses and his mouth was a hard line. I got the feeling he wouldn’t see the humor in the situation. When he got close enough to see what we were doing, he froze and his jaw dropped slightly. Then it came back up, his mouth tighter than ever, and he stood there, staring at us. The windows were open, so he could hear Ryan’s moans and see us perfectly clearly. “Ryan,” I warned, trying again to pull my hand away. “No... oh God, don’t stop, I’m almost---oh!” He came hard, thrashing his head back on the seat and pushing up against my hand. The cop raised an eyebrow and folded his arms, his eyes silvery mirrored blanks. Ryan slumped back against the headrest and kept his eyes shut, catching his breath. “What, Col? Is the light green?” he asked, his eyes still half-lidded and dazed. The light *was* green, actually, but there were no other cars at the intersection and it wasn’t exactly our biggest problem. The cop who was now tapping his foot impatiently was really my most pressing concern. When I didn’t answer, Ryan opened his eyes a little more and looked at me. “What? You look pale. What’s wrong?” I pointed out his window, my hand trembling slightly. He turned his head and saw the cop standing there. I saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. Then I watched in disbelief as his eyes hardened and he clenched his jaw. Almost immediately, though, his expression softened and a look that I can only describe as ‘sultry’ replaced the anger. Then he spoke. * * *  Ryan Man, that whole thing about being apart for six months was brutal, but I think it was the best thing that could have happened. Col and I learned that we could survive apart, but we also found out just how badly we needed to be together. We also learned not to take each other for granted, which is probably the most valuable lesson one can learn in this life.  For a long time, things were great. We were having a blast doing Second City and neither Pat nor Mike said anything about my relationship with Colin. In fact, Pat and Colin got to be pretty good friends, a fact that I still get a kick out of.  I remember one weekend where Pat set us both up; it was our ten-year anniversary and Col and I had agreed to keep the celebration down to a small, intimate dinner and an entire, undisturbed weekend. But one day, Pat cornered me and asked what I was doing for Colin for our anniversary. I explained our decision and got one of those ‘I’ll forgive the stupidity because you’re a man’ looks. Before I had time to get any defenses up, though, Pat already had me out the door and on the street. She was quizzing me the whole time about things that Colin liked: jewelry, clothes, stuff like that. I was confused beyond belief, but I learned early in my life not to argue with a determined woman, so I answered her questions and kept my curiosity to myself. That took nearly four blocks, and then she abruptly changed tactics. “What do you want to do for him, Ryan?” Pat asked me. She had an odd note in her voice and I looked up, frowning, but her question had stirred something within me, and my voice was thoughtful when I finally answered her. “I want to give him something public,” I responded slowly, letting my mind work through my sudden realization. “Something that he can always keep with him and know that I love him.” We walked in silence for a while, both of us thinking over what I said. I was so lost in thought, in fact, that I walked almost an entire block before I noticed that she’d stopped. Sheepishly, I hurried back to her side and accepted her knowing smirk with good grace. “What about this?” she asked me, her amusement fading away as she gestured at a window. ‘This’ was an intricately linked, elegantly masculine silver bracelet. Transfixed, I gaped at it, taking in every minute detail; the links were actually intertwining Celtic knots, it was the perfect size for Colin, and it was understated enough that it wouldn’t draw comment. Pat laughed quietly at my reaction and pulled me into the store, getting a salesperson and pretty much arranging everything else, including a discounted price because the bracelet was a gift for my ten-year anniversary. I was so thrilled with my (okay, our) discovery that I pulled her into my arms and kissed her until she was breathless. That little display got the price knocked down even more and I left the store on Cloud Nine. When I gave the bracelet to Colin that next weekend, I thought he was going to cry. Then he presented me with my gift: a jade-topped, silver Celtic ring. The similarities behind our presents weren’t lost on either of us and that’s when we found out what Pat had been up to. Then someone rang the doorbell, interrupting a passionate embrace, and we broke apart with matching sighs of aggravation. Colin went to the door and answered it while I put the remains of dinner up. “Ryan?” my lover suddenly called. There was an odd tone in his voice, so I quickly wiped my hands on a towel and went back to the living room. Pat and Mike were standing by the couch, wearing twin expressions of smug satisfaction. I stopped mid-step, my jaw dropping as I stared at them. Colin came to my side and slipped his arm around my waist, letting his head rest on my shoulder. Pat’s smile widened when she saw it and Mike chuckled. “We’ve definitely done a good thing,” he said to Pat, reaching into his jacket pocket. “Yes, we have,” she agreed, putting her hand back on his arm and looking deeply into his eyes. They got married a few years later and as far as I know, they’re still together. Oh. Sorry. Back to the story. “Umm... what have you done?” I ventured hesitantly, moving a little closer to Colin. “Arranged for an interruption-free weekend,” Mike answered, grinning broadly and pulling a hotel key out of the inner pocket of his jacket. “Go to this hotel and give them my name; everything else has been taken care of, so you two have fun and enjoy your weekend. Oh, and happy anniversary.” “Happy anniversary,” Pat echoed, giving us a fond smile. Needless to say, Col and I aren’t complete idiots, so we grabbed a quick change of clothes and the hotel key and got the hell out of dodge. And later, when Pat and Mike got engaged, we threw them a party that went on the record books as the biggest blast in Canada. So there we were, happy as clams. Then I got an offer to do improv on a British show that had just started. It was a great opportunity, but it meant being away from Colin. He insisted, though, pointing out the fact that I’d only be gone a few weekends a month. That was too much for my personal taste, but it was an opportunity I simply couldn’t ignore. So I went and did well enough to get asked back on a semi-regular basis.  Everything would have been great, but I wanted to be with Colin. I knew that he was good enough to make it on this show, so I talked Clive Anderson, the host, into pushing the request through the executive producer, Dan Patterson. I was ecstatic when I found out that it had been approved---and then I got the rest of the news. Dan had decided to have Colin come on the show during one of my ‘off’ weekends... and he wouldn’t pay for both of us flying over.  It was the chance of a lifetime and we both knew it, so I made sweet love to him, took him to the airport, and started chewing my nails. Then he called me in the evening, after they’d finished taping, and I cursed Dan Patterson in every language I could think of. Even after all these years, I still hate that bastard.   He’d booked Colin’s flight so that he’d arrive about two hours before taping started, so Col didn’t get to meet the others until an hour before the show began. Add that to the fact that Colin doesn’t like new places and is really shy when it comes to meeting new people, and things were bound to be bad. And of course, the other three shut him out. It wasn’t intentional, but it was inevitable.  So when Colin called me that night, he was almost in tears. I swear, if I could have walked across the ocean to get to him, I would have. Unfortunately, I couldn’t, so I murmured worthless platitudes and told him that it would be all right. He didn’t believe me, but that was okay, since I didn’t believe myself.  As we hung up, I sighed. He was coming in the next morning and I knew that our reunion wasn’t going to be the joyful event it should have been. Still, he was coming home, which was always a good thing. So, with that in mind, I turned everything off and hit the sack.  * * * I was right: when I picked Colin up at the airport, he was tired, discouraged, and his hair was noticeably thinner on top. I pulled him into my arms for a hug and he came willingly, trying to burrow into my skin. I could feel him shaking and frowned, tightening my arms with a fierce possessiveness and mentally reaffirming my vow to strangle Dan Patterson the next time I saw him. “I want to go home,” he said softly, his voice full of disappointment... and something else. Something I couldn’t quite identify. In response, I deepened the embrace and mentally sighed, wishing that I could have spared him this.  When he finally pulled back, I started to bend down and kiss him, but instead of meeting me, he tilted his head to the right and flicked a glance behind my shoulder. My lips tightened in a bitterly rueful smile and I nodded, draped an arm across his shoulders, and said, “Come on, Col. I’ll take you home.”  As we left the airport, my thoughts turned to what had just happened and the bitterness I’d been suppressing since Col and I had become lovers sprang to life. I was sick and tired of hiding our relationship, especially when we’d been apart. Because we were two men in a relationship, I couldn’t pull him into my arms and kiss him senseless. Because we didn’t fit into the acceptable mold of a consensual, loving relationship, Colin couldn’t lean back against my chest and let me hold him when we were in public. Because of the ridiculous stereotypes that were so predominant in this country, Colin and I had to suppress our love.  And I had had enough.  Colin suddenly shivered against my side and I looked at him, slipping my arm around his waist and squeezing reassuringly. He gave me a half-smile and dropped his head against my shoulder. Once we were on the road, Colin opened up a little and haltingly explained what had happened. I soothed him as best I could, wishing that I could touch him.  Of course, no sooner had that thought crossed my mind than he buried his face in my shoulder and nuzzled my jaw. I hummed in approval and he smiled against my skin. Then he started nibbling on my earlobe, a move that is guaranteed to send my thought processes spiraling south. I lost control of the wheel for a split second and he grinned around his mouthful of ear.  “Jeez, Col, are you trying to make me wreck the car?” I joked, sending him a quick glance.  “You know what, Ryan?” he asked, his voice suddenly thoughtful.  “What?” I asked, shooting him another curious glance.  “I love you.” His words sent warmth rushing through me and I started to reply... and then Colin dropped his hand in my lap, his fingers curling around my stirring flesh, and the car jerked sharply when I reacted.  “Colin...” I meant to sound stern, but my voice betrayed me when it came out thick and throaty. “Can’t you wait until we get home? I can’t drive when you do that. Hell, I can’t even think when you do that.” I was practically begging, knowing that if he continued, getting arrested for committing a lewd act in public was a distinct possibility. Colin, however, was dead set on either thanking me or torturing me to within an inch of my life. He swears that it was the former; I still say it’s the latter.  “I just want to thank you,” he purred, tightening his fingers. I gasped and thrust up, trying to relieve the ache. “Mmm... for what?” I rasped out, dropping my head back on the seat and closing my eyes for a second as he stroked me through the rough material of my jeans.  “For taking a really shitty mood and turning it around. For making me feel good again. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Ry.” Smiling, I turned to face him---and nearly wrecked the car when his lips closed on mine. The sound of a horn blasting in my ear made me jerk away and I quickly pulled the car back into our lane, a blush spreading over my face.  I looked over at Colin and he met my eyes; we shrugged ruefully and he said, “Maybe I should wait until we get home, huh?” “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” I muttered, my disappointment showing in my voice. He squeezed me again and I thrust up, releasing a whistling breath and trying to stay in control. “So I should move my hand?” he asked, the wicked glint in his eyes belying the angelic look on his face. If I’d looked closely enough, I’d probably have seen the horns holding up that polished golden halo. “Yeah,” I agreed, waiting with eager anticipation for him to finish what he’d started. To my shock, he pulled his hand away and started to move to the other side of the car. With a silent protest, I caught his wrist and tugged his hand back to where I needed it.  “That’s not what I meant by moving your hand,” I growled, breathing deeply when his fingers curled around me. He laughed softly into my neck and began stroking me again, his hand strong and sure. I groaned my approval and pushed into the sensation, gasping softly when he flicked his tongue over the sensitive spot behind my ear. Dimly, I saw a light ahead of us and when I forced my eyes to focus on it, I saw that it was red. I had just enough thought processes left to stop the car and just enough brain cells remaining to put us in park. Colin’s hand began moving faster and I groaned again, finding his rhythm and urgently seeking the release that was so close. He suddenly pulled his hand away and I moaned, yanking it back and pushing myself firmly against those strong, knowing fingers. Suddenly, Colin tried to take his hand away and said, “Ryan.” His voice was full of warning, but I couldn’t restrain my protest. “No... oh God, don’t stop, I’m almost---oh!” I came hard, my head slamming back into the headrest as my hips rose one last time into his hand. My breathing was out of control and I couldn’t have told you my name right then if my life had depended on it. Gradually, though, I came back to earth, panting and shivering and wondering why Colin had kept trying to stop. “What’s the matter, Col? Is the light green?” There was no answer and I frowned, cracking my eyelids open and really looking at my lover. “What? You look pale. What’s wrong?” He pointed out the window and I turned, my heart stopping for a second when I saw the cop standing there. Then I saw the look on his face and the bitter anger I’d felt at the airport welled up again. Colin was trying not to freak out, but I suddenly felt powerful. I could get us out of this... and all I had to do was let my true nature show. I called up the feelings I had for Colin and felt my jaw softening; then a particular memory of the night before he left for England flashed through my mind and I gave the cop a sultry, provocative look. “Is there something I can... do... for you, Officer?” I purred, holding his eyes through the mirrored sunglasses for a minute before letting my gaze slide down his body. I watched him force himself not to back away and my lip nearly curled in disgust before I caught myself. He swallowed when I made eye contact again and a smile teased my lips. “Because I’d certainly be happy to... grant any requests you might have?”  I made the sentence a question and the cop---whose last name was Robert, according to his nametag---turned white. Beside me, Colin choked back a laugh, his body quivering with the effort to suppress his amusement. I smiled at his reaction, but ‘Officer Bob’ apparently thought I was making another pass at him, because his face suddenly flushed bright red. He mumbled something about watching my speed and went back to his motorcycle at a pace that wasn’t quite a run. Colin and I watched him throw us one last glance, jam his helmet on his head, and peel out, heading in the opposite direction at a high rate of speed. Only when the cloud of dust settled did I give in and begin to chortle. Colin joined me and we laughed ourselves silly. I don’t know how long it was before we finally calmed down, breathing heavily and sagging against each other. Colin released one last guffaw before putting a finger under my chin, gently forcing my head around. “So what was that all about?” he asked seriously, the amusement fading from his eyes. Blowing out a deep breath, I thought about the best way to explain what I was feeling. We were both sick of hiding our relationship, but my reaction went deeper than that. *I* didn’t know what it was, so how in the world was I going tell Colin? After a few minutes of thought, I came to the conclusion that keeping things simple was the best solution and carefully voiced my feelings. “I’m just sick of hiding things, Col. I love you so much it hurts, but I can’t hold your hand or kiss you or... or even hold you when we’re in public. And when I saw the look on that cop’s face, I just snapped. I wanted to... tweak him, I guess.” There was long stretch of silence before Colin answered me, and his voice was thoughtful. “I know, babe,” he murmured, lightly caressing my arm. “And I hate it, too. I’d climb on top of the Empire State Building and tell everyone how much I love you if I could.” He paused and gently kissed me before continuing. “But, Ryan... we can’t afford to say anything. If we do, any chance we have at doing improv will go straight to hell. And don’t say that it doesn’t matter,” he added when I opened my mouth to protest. “Because I know you, Ryan Stiles, and you love improv as much as you love me... and vice versa,” he finished quietly, his fingers still tracing light circles on my arm. “Once we get in somewhere and make a name for ourselves, we’ll come clean. I’ll take you onstage and kiss you so hard that doctors will be adding a new way to do a tonsillectomy to their medical journals.” I couldn’t help but smile at the image his words produced and he returned it, leaning in to kiss me again. There was more passion in this one and he was a little flushed when he finally sat back. “So until we can make out on national television,” he said huskily, his eyes boring into mine, “we’ll have to settle for making love in every position known to man and some that we just made up.” I laughed at that (it was true) and pulled Colin in for another kiss. This one was deep, passionate, and full of love. A tiny whimper of disappointment came from Colin’s throat when I released him and I smiled again, put the car in gear, and started home. * * * It still chafed on my nerves, but I knew Colin was right. We couldn’t afford to let our relationship become public until we knew it wouldn’t matter. So, things remained status quo. I stayed with ‘Whose Line’ and eventually argued Dan into letting Colin back for a second try. Well, ‘argued’ might not be the best word. * * * “Dammit, Dan, when are you going to start listening to me!?” I exploded, slamming a fist down on his desk. Papers flew everywhere and I got a certain grim satisfaction in seeing that they had been in order. I still hated the bastard and it had only gotten worse over time. Clive and one of the junior producers had come to America to watch Col and I do one of our Second City gigs and Clive was determined to get my lover on the show. Dan, of course, was being an ass about it. “Ryan, he bombed, okay? Get over it.” “You listen to me, you sorry son-of-a-bitch,” I hissed, grabbing his shirt and bringing him nose-to-nose with me. “He bombed because you set him up to fail. You could have easily brought him over a couple of days early and let him get a feel for things. And you sure as hell could have given him more than an hour to meet Clive and the others!” By then, I was shouting. Dan was starting to look scared, but he wouldn’t back down. “This is improv, Stiles,” he snapped, trying to get out of my grip. I tightened my hands and he choked softly before straightening his shoulders and staring at me defiantly. “The whole idea behind improv is being able to adapt quickly. He can’t.” His last words triggered an idea and I abruptly released him. “Fine,” I said in a normal tone of voice, watching in satisfaction when his jaw dropped. “So bring him on again, but this time, pair him with me. If he can’t handle everything you give us, I’ll never bring it up again.” Dan went poker-faced at my suggestion, but I could still read his eyes. He couldn’t afford to fire me and we both knew it, but if he could humiliate me... The second he decided to take my bet, I saw it and mentally smiled. He had no idea what he was letting himself in for. “Okay, Stiles. I’ll give him another chance.” I smiled in triumph and he held up a finger, his eyes glittering with malicious anticipation. “But if either one of you fumbles during the show, he’s out. Permanently.” It was a twist I hadn’t anticipated, but it didn’t bother me. Col and I were a team in every sense of the word and I knew that we could handle whatever Dan threw at us. “Fair enough,” I said with a nod, offering him my hand. He hesitated before taking it and the thought of breaking a few bones was tempting; using a tremendous amount of self-control, I resisted and forbore the satisfaction of making him cry. Once everything was in writing and all the details had been worked out, I went to my hotel and called Colin. He got worried when I told him the stipulation, but a quick reminder of some of the stuff we’d done for Second City did the trick and it didn’t take long until he was as excited as I was. * * * So Colin did another taping of ‘Whose Line,’ and we blew them away. He was there for everything I did, and vice versa. We shut out the other two players completely; it was just Col and me. Dan nearly strangled when he welcomed Colin to the show, which we both got a kick out of, and that started another period of blissful happiness. Barring, of course, some minor problems like near-constant interruptions every time we tried to be alone. It didn’t matter where we were, either: in my hotel room, Colin’s dressing room, in the restroom that no one knew about... hell, we got so desperate one day that we went to a motel across town. And I’ll be damned if the place didn’t catch fire! Colin lost a lot of hair during that period of our lives, which not only depressed him but also got Dan back on his case. Despite the fact that he was one of the most popular players on the show, Dan felt that because he was going bald, Colin looked too ‘old.’ He made the mistake of saying that to Clive, though, and the snide remarks and pointed looks abruptly stopped. Well, to our faces, anyway. Colin tried not to show it, but Dan’s attitude was really starting to bother him; that was the point, of course. Dan hated that he had been wrong and was trying to salvage his pride by forcing Colin to quit. He’d underestimated the power of the bond we shared, though, and all he ended up doing was looking like an ass. So we went along, taping the show and doing Second City and just generally being happy. Then, one day, while a select group of us were doing a tour of Vegas, I met a man named Drew Carey. * * * Author’s Note: Yes, we know that the ‘Kama Sutra Man’ episode did not happen in 1995, but it was just too good to pass up, so we tweaked the timeline a little. Colin Ryan would never admit that he got me the second chance on Whose Line. I badgered him and wheedled and even gave him my best puppy dog eyes, but he stuck to his story about them just reconsidering. But I knew. I always knew. And I was scared the first time I went on stage with him, for those tapings that the show did in New York, but we blew them away. Just like he knew we would. Sometimes I wish I had the kind of faith in myself that he has. Anyway, doing the show was great, even if Dan did make me nuts. He would just dance around the subject, making little insinuations about reaching a ‘younger target audience’ and having some ‘fresh faces on the show.’ And, being the non-confrontational pushover that I tend to be, I never called him on it. Besides, it was kind of fun to watch Ryan get all narrow eyed and protective whenever Dan came down on me. He really seemed to enjoy watching out for me, and while I didn’t need to be babied, it was still nice. Sometimes it could get out of hand though... I remember back in 1995, when Ryan was starting his work on the Drew Carey show and we were taping for the 1996 season of ‘Whose Line.’ Now, to be fair to Ryan, he was being run ragged by all the flying back and forth and working on two shows. While meeting new people and dealing with new situations seemed to get easier for me as time went by, flying only got harder for him. I think part of the reason Whose Line moved back to the States was because they knew he’d quit doing it if they made him keep flying over to London all the time. But anyway, there we were, starting another season. Ryan was already a full time regular on the show, in every single episode, and I was close to it. He was angling to get me on the show full time with him, partly so he wouldn’t have to fly alone, and partly because we worked so well together. Not to mention the fact that we missed each other like crazy when he had to leave me behind. But the producers didn’t need to know about that little detail, although I’m pretty sure most of them had already guessed. We weren’t exactly subtle on stage. I know that Greg was aware of it, and so was Tony, but that didn’t matter because they were carrying on their own little relationship and therefore didn’t have any objections to ours. On that particular day, we’d just finished a taping, and Dan had pulled Ryan away right after we got done. Now, that in itself was rather unusual, since Dan didn’t generally have a whole lot to say to Ryan, but my lover acted like he knew what was going on, and he just gave me an apologetic look as Dan led him away. I frowned and tried not to look too disappointed. You see, I had really been looking forward to a little ‘alone time’ right after the taping. Ryan did this thing on stage... Well, maybe you’ve seen it. We were playing Superheroes, right, and Greg was up first. They dubbed him ‘Sticky Man,’ and right away, he started playing it. Ryan and I exchanged a little look, standing in our places on the sidelines, and Ryan murmured under his breath, “More like slimy man.” I gave him a tight-lipped grin and a nod, and then it was time for him to go out on stage. I don’t know if Greg heard the comment, or he just saw that we had communicated and assumed it was about him, but either way, he tried to get Ryan back by naming him ‘Seventies Disco Boy.’ Ryan did look embarrassed for a moment, but then his lips tightened into a kind of rueful smile and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. It was his ‘I love a challenge’ look, and I grinned as I watched him go for it, dancing clumsily but with enthusiasm. I bounced out there on stage after only a token pause, knowing that Ryan wasn’t terribly proud of his dancing skills and wanting to take the focus off him as quickly as possible. The look he gave me when I got out there told me I was in for it, but I wasn’t expecting what came out of his mouth. “Oh, thank God you’re here, Kama Sutra Man!” Blinking at him, I felt a slow smile stretch my lips, and I cocked my head, asking a silent question. He nodded, just once, and I shrugged and went for it. I was a little embarrassed too, but if Ryan could fake disco, I could handle a little sexual innuendo. I started moving into various positions, playing with imaginary partners. It would have been a lot easier if I weren’t trying to control myself, mindful of the audience and the censors. Pretty much every sexual position I could think of involved moving my hips, which made the crowd shriek their approval and made me blush under my stage makeup. Looking at Greg, I caught the thinly veiled expression of contempt on his face, and I understood it perfectly. He thought I was holding back out of some lack of guts. I caught my lover’s eye, and I nodded again. He watched me as I lay on my back, framing my hands around an imaginary partner and thrusting my hips upward. Right away, Ryan danced his way over and straddled me, standing over me and jerking his pelvis in the oldest dance move in the world. Our motions were perfectly timed---years of practice, remember---and watching him arch his back and thrust forward, his eyes half-lidded and hazy, I found myself getting hard. That’s when I quickly got up, hunching over slightly and pretending to rub my hands over Ryan and Greg’s groins. I didn’t touch Greg, but I let my hand come into contact with the front of Ryan’s pants, and I heard his breathing change subtly. I smiled at the stage floor, and then I tossed a glance at Greg, lifting my eyebrows slightly. Take that, I thought. You think I don’t have the guts to go for it? Think again. Then, of course, Brad came out on stage and I named him; ‘Captain BS,’ I believe it was. Brad is the kind of guy who’ll do anything---and I mean *anything*---for a laugh. This is the man who, in later years, actually dropped his pants and mooned the audience. Now, granted he had boxers on, but still... that takes guts. He rose to the role admirably, helping us all solve the crisis of amnesia. Then he bounded off the stage, reminding me why the fans call him ‘monkey boy,’ and it was my turn to come up with an exit line. I shot Ryan a glance hot enough to set his hair on fire, smirked, and said, “I’m going to go have a smoke.” The crowd loved it, and Ryan just followed me with his eyes as I walked off, still a little hunched over. He was still gyrating his hips gently, and as I went by, he turned his body so that he kept thrusting toward me. He made a play on words for his exit line, saying something about ‘staying alive,’ but to be perfectly honest with you, I wasn’t listening at that point. All I wanted to do was yank him into the closest available private space and finish what we’d started during the game. As we walked back to the seats, I read the same desire in his eyes, but unfortunately, we didn’t get that chance. With only about a half an hour to go in the taping, there were no more breaks scheduled. “Those were some interesting positions... Kama Sutra Man,” Ryan whispered, leaning over and cupping a hand above his mike. “Maybe you could show me some more later?” I grinned at him. “Just try and stop me. I’m thinking... after the taping, my dressing room, but I can’t decide if we should try the couch, the floor, or the wall.” Like Ryan, I kept my voice low and my hand over my mike. “Mmm...” Ryan quirked his eyebrows and let the tip of his tongue steal ever so subtly over his upper lip. “How about all three?” I swallowed, wiped a hand across my face, and took a long drink of the ice water in my glass. It did very little to cool me down. “Sounds like a plan,” I murmured huskily. “Disco boy... may I have this dance?” Ryan’s eyes brightened and he smiled widely, but we didn’t get to finish flirting. It was time for ‘Sound Effects,’ another Ryan-and-Colin game, but one that was harder for me because I was basically on my own out there, instead of getting to interact with my best friend. But hey, it’s my job, so we went out there and did our thing, and the whole time, the promise of a little after-taping fun lingered in the back of my mind. Well... okay, maybe it was in the front of my mind. And the front of my pants, but that’s another matter. So when Dan pulled Ryan away right after the taping, I tried to suppress my disappointment and just went back to my dressing room alone. I toyed with the idea of getting ready in some way, maybe draping myself attractively over the couch, minus my clothes, but there were drawbacks to that. Chiefly, Ryan didn’t have a key to the room, so I would have to leave the door unlocked. And I hesitated to do that if I was going to be draping myself anywhere naked. I paced for a while, trying not to notice the frustration radiating in waves from my groin. My breathing refused to slow down. I would try and be still and think about something else, but I just kept coming back to the way he had looked standing over me, his hips jerking in perfect time with mine, his eyes glazed, his lips parted... I caught myself just before slipping a hand into my pants. That would be the easy way out, and hell yes, I wanted to do it, but I was determined to wait for Ryan. I glanced quickly at the couch, then the floor, then the wall, and I thought of Ryan saying, ‘How about all three?’ Swallowing and wetting my lips, I ran a hand through what was left of my hair, not even noticing when a few more strands came off in my fingers. I’d gotten used to it, you see. What seemed like forever was probably only about ten minutes, but I didn’t care. With only a quick check to make sure my erection wasn’t *too* blatantly obvious, I slipped out of my dressing room and stalked down the hall, looking for Ryan and Dan. I knew that our producer probably had some kind of important thing to talk about with Ryan, and my interrupting them would probably only make it take longer, but I had some kind of half-assed plan about making up an excuse on the spot---improvising it, of course---and whisking Ryan away. I was about twenty feet away from Dan’s office when I heard Ryan’s voice through the door. The angry tone snagged my attention and I paused, wondering if I should come back later, but then I caught my name. “Colin could out-funny anyone else on this damn show and you know it! Just because you have to be a stubborn---“ I could hear Dan’s voice, but it was too low for me to make out the words. They apparently were not the words that Ryan wanted to hear, because he interrupted our producer, his voice rising by the second. “Bullshit! This isn’t about Colin’s appearance, it’s about you not wanting to admit that you’re wrong about him! And in case you haven’t noticed, he gets the most fan mail of anyone on this show, so obviously the audience thinks he looks just fine!” I couldn’t help feeling a little hurt that Dan was still harping on about me looking too old, but Ryan was making a good point. I did get the most mail, God only knows why. Maybe it was the whole ‘lovable’ thing I did on stage. It just seemed to work for me. I could hear Dan’s voice again, still too low for me to make out the words, and then there was a sudden crashing noise. The murmuring voice stopped, and I was suddenly sure that Ryan had decked him. I burst into the office, wanting to stop my friend before he got himself in serious trouble. Ryan and Dan both turned to stare at me. Ryan was standing up, his fists clenched, and a chair was lying on its side at his feet. I guess that was the crashing noise I heard. Dan was looking prissily irritated, as usual, but he didn’t seem scared and there wasn’t a mark on him. I felt a flush creep up my cheeks as I realized that we were all just standing there staring at each other. “Um... hi,” I said weakly. “Colin,” Dan started, holding up a hand. “You know, I think I’ll just go,” I interrupted, turning toward the door. “No,” Ryan said, catching me on the upper arm. He pulled me to his side and put a hand on my back, lifting his chin defiantly in Dan’s direction. I caught my breath slightly, his touch reminding me that I was still aroused as hell, despite the flutters of nerves in my stomach. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “I think Dan has something he’d like to say to you.” Our producer frowned, shaking his head quickly and looking daggers at Ryan. “Come on, if you have some kind of problem with Colin being on the show full time, don’t you think he deserves to hear you say it to his face?” Ryan raised his eyebrows challengingly, refusing to drop his gaze. Dan sighed, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, fine. I was trying to be gentle about this, but if you insist, let’s be frank. Colin,” he said, turning to me, “you’re thirty nine years old, but you look a lot older. You need to either dye your hair or get some more of it. Your humor consists of making mistakes on stage in such a way that they’re funny and playing off Ryan. Without him, you’re nothing, and everyone knows it. You can’t sing, you can’t even do hoedowns, and that little fainting trick is getting really old. You can’t play off the other improvisers anywhere near as well as you do with Ryan, and you two shut everyone else out. I need a team player, not an impenetrable twosome. Ryan can do the show without you, but you can’t do it without him. Simple as that.” Dan crossed his arms and sat down with an air of finality. I was biting my lip and staring at the floor, so I didn’t see the look on Ryan’s face. I bet it was a doozy. I wanted to be mad at Dan, but I guess the truth hurt a little too much. He was right. I wouldn’t be anywhere without Ryan, and I did look too old. I took a deep breath and blinked quickly, willing myself to pull it together. I was a grown man, not some little kid. The euphoric rush of arousal that had brought me barreling in here had been torn apart, and more than anything I just wished that I had stayed in the damn dressing room and waited for Ryan. “Colin, would you excuse us for a couple minutes?” Ryan requested in a tightly controlled voice. I looked up at him and then at Dan, who, for the first time, was looking a bit nervous. As I believe I’ve mentioned, Ryan can be damn intimidating when he wants to be, and he was giving our producer his best glower. I left. Whatever was going to happen in that room, I didn’t want to be there for it. Besides, I was feeling very unstable and I wasn’t sure if I was going to lose it or not. I retreated back to my little dressing room---the coolly impersonal space that only belonged to me a few weekends out of the year---like a dog with his tail between his legs. I sank down on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, trying not to think about it. Dan’s words kept running around in my head. The more I thought about it, the more I agreed with him. I was riding on Ryan’s coattails. He had gotten me on the show the first time, and when I bombed that, he got me on again. He made sure that I always got paired with him on stage, because that was the only way I could really be funny. Looking back on that day now, I know I was being overly melodramatic and really laying on the self-pity, but it seemed to make sense at the time. I’d always been sensitive, and Dan’s words had really cut deep. Before long I was crying into my hands and telling myself I was the most untalented hack that ever took the stage. That was how Ryan found me. Right away he pulled me into his arms and told me he loved me. That always had the power to cheer me up, and I stopped crying, but I was still sniffling a little. He took my face in his hands and stared at me for a long moment, and then began very carefully kissing my cheeks. It wasn’t until he started putting feather light kisses under my eyes that I realized what he was doing. Kissing the tears away. It was one of the sweetest things he’s ever done for me, and when I think about our relationship, that’s one of the memories that always stands out. “You’re going to be a permanent regular, in every episode,” he said, after he’d finished kissing me. “What? Did Dan say that?” “Yep,” Ryan replied, smiling slightly. I cocked my head, staring at him in confusion. “What... how? Did you... you didn’t hurt him, did you?” Ryan laughed. “Let’s just say I presented a very convincing case.” I shook my head at him, knowing he wouldn’t tell me even one more detail no matter how much I asked. To this day, I still don’t know what went down in that office. I do know that Dan treated me with a lot more respect after that, and that was good enough for me. Ryan pulled me into his arms and I went willingly, burying my face in his shoulder and kissing his neck. “Thank you,” I said, my words muffled against his shirt. “You deserve that permanent chair, Col. You’re good, and don’t you let that smug little prick tell you any different. The fans love you, the other performers love you, and I love you.” I smiled, snuggling a little closer to him. “So... you don’t think I look too old?” I asked, trying to make the question sound casual. Ryan pulled back, tilting his head so our foreheads touched, and looked into my eyes. “I think you’re the sweetest, sexiest, funniest, most adorable man I’ve ever seen, and you’ll *never* look too old. Are you hearing me?” I nodded, my throat tightening again. He saw the way I was blinking and he smiled sadly, shaking his head. “You know what?” he asked. “What?” “I think I need to remind you just how sexy I think you are. And I think I need to give you something to think about other than that asshole. Besides... Kama Sutra Man... I believe we have an appointment to keep with this couch. And the floor, and that wall over there...” Then he kissed me, and Dan’s words finally quit running around in my head. I think you can guess what happened next. Anyway, that’s how I became a full time regular. And when the show moved back to L.A. in 1998, it was even easier for us. Ryan was working on the ‘Drew Carey Show,’ and I was doing some of my own independent projects and working on ‘Whose Line’ with him. Ryan was happy because he didn’t have to fly anymore, and I was happy because I finally felt secure. We were gaining popularity, and Ryan and I were getting more and more suggestive on stage. I remember the ‘Whose Line in Hollywood’ episode we did with Greg and Phil LaMarr. That was the one with the ‘Colin Hoedown’ that all the fans know so well. They don’t know the half of it. It was a normal taping and we were all having a good time. I especially enjoyed my game of Press Conference, when it turned out I was having Clive’s love child. That was a fun one. Anyway, when it came time to do the inevitable hoedown, we all stood out there, hoping the audience would be kind. I think someone yelled out ‘cheese’ but Clive shot that one down, saying we’d already done a cheese hoedown. I suppose we might have, I’ve done so many of the damn things over the years that I can’t remember them all. The next suggestion was ‘Colin!’ and I felt my stomach flutter nervously. Clive took the suggestion, tossing me a grin, and I looked at Ryan. He was smiling, with a sparkle in his eye that I knew all too well. “A hoedown about Colin! Well, we know that Colin comes from Canada, born in Scotland, a very funny improviser and a very attractive looking man in my personal opinion,” Clive said in his quick, agile voice, still grinning widely. I rolled my eyes, giving him a dirty look. Ryan patted me on the shoulder and I shook my head, shrugging. Greg was first, and he couldn’t resist making fun of me, imitating my voice and failing to make a rhyme, then lapsing into a dinosaur impression. One that wasn’t as good as mine, I noticed with a small measure of satisfaction. Phil, the newcomer to the show, didn’t really know me that well and he kept his verse pretty neutral. I made a play on my last name for my verse, making sure to give the audience my best puppy-dog face in the process. Then I turned and watched Ryan, like I always do for the hoedowns. He shot me a sidelong glance and began. “You got to love Colin, love him to the end. I have to admit that he is my best friend. I would not lie to you, this is no jive. Cause any way you look at it, he’s still got more hair than Clive.” We all echoed the last line and I grinned at him. Tilting his head so the cameras wouldn’t pick it up, Ryan mouthed ‘love you’ at me, and I couldn’t resist. I pulled him into my arms, pressing my face against his shoulder and closing my eyes for a moment. When I pulled back, there was a split second when we almost kissed. Ryan was looking at me, his arms still loosely wrapped around my waist, and he tilted his head ever so slightly. I knew what he was going to do, and I quickly backed up. To put it simply, I chickened out. I couldn’t do it on stage. So we went back to our seats and finished the taping, with Ryan shooting the occasional confused look in my direction. I tried to ignore them, and straightened my back so I wouldn’t look as guilty as I felt. We’d agreed that once we were popular enough, we’d come out, and apparently he thought it was time. But I had backed out, and now I felt like a coward. After we got off the stage, we slipped back to Ryan’s dressing room as quickly as possible. He held the door for me and I walked in first, giving him a quick nod of acknowledgment. I heard the door shut, but I didn’t turn. I was standing in the middle of the room, staring at the floor. “You want to tell me what that was about?” Ryan asked mildly. I shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry, Ry. I know we said that we would come out when we were set, but...” “I wasn’t trying to come out.” I turned, cocking my head at him. “But you were going to kiss me.” “A stage kiss,” Ryan said, smiling. “To go with the stage hug? It would have gotten a laugh, that’s all.” “Oh.” “What did you think I was going to do?” he asked, putting his hands on my shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess... I’ve been thinking about it. Telling everyone about us. I know you hate keeping it a secret, and I hate it too, but... I guess I’m a little scared.” He wrapped his arms around my back and kissed me on the forehead. I sighed, leaning into the familiar warmth and feeling the rumble of his voice against my chest. “I know what you mean. People seem to like us now, but that could change so fast. Besides, I hear that the show is going to be going through some big changes next year. I think it’s going to be sold to Warner Brothers.” “Really?” I asked, lifting my chin to look at him. “Yeah, they’re even talking about replacing Clive.” “That’s terrible. Clive’s been with the show ever since the beginning,” I said, shaking my head. “Yeah, I know. But there’s always that push for someone younger, and since they’ll be doing the show here in the States, they want an American.” Ryan had a musing, thoughtful tone to his voice, and I tilted my head, giving him a puzzled look. “You have something in mind?” “Maybe,” he answered enigmatically. “I was actually talking to Drew about it. He’s got boatloads of money, and if he bought in as a producer... This show has amazing potential, Colin. It’s very inexpensive to make, and I think it could be really popular given the right time slot.” “Yeah,” I said, nodding against Ryan’s shoulder. “I’ve even been considering becoming a producer myself.” “What? That’s a lot of money, Ryan.” He shrugged. “I’m doing pretty well, and it could pay off big time. We’re talking about a solid investment here. And if I did do that, you know we’d always be on the show together, no matter what. With that kind of security...” “We wouldn’t have to worry about keeping things secret anymore,” I finished, smiling up at him. He kissed me on the tip of my nose. “Bingo.” “Hey, Ryan...” “Yeah?” “You want to know what I thought you were going to do on stage?” I asked, letting my hand trail down his chest and nudge teasingly at his groin. “Mmm-hmm,” he said, quirking his eyebrows at me. I pulled his head down until our lips met, light and teasing at first, and then deeper. His tongue prodded at my mouth, and I opened it, letting him skim along the sensitive inner rim of my lips. I suddenly moved my hand and swallowed his gasp, smiling against his mouth. He laughed softly and returned the favor, unzipping my pants one handed with the ease of long practice. His hand was cool against my hot skin and I groaned, pressing against it. He started stroking me in a sweetly familiar rhythm, and his mouth trailed down my throat, his tongue flicking out every now and then. Those of you who have seen his lizard impression know that Ryan is pretty quick with that tongue. I tilted my head and bit gently at the place where his neck joins his shoulder. He shivered and pressed himself harder into my hand, sucking hungrily at my neck. That was when the door opened. * * * Ryan Oh, life was sweet. Well, for the most part. After Colin walked in on one of my ‘meetings’ with our producer and left almost in tears, I, uh... informed Dan that kicking Colin off the show would be bad for his health; by itself, that didn’t convince him, but when Clive, Josie, Tony, Greg, Mike, Caroline, and Richard piled into his office and arranged themselves behind me, he capitulated. Dan never did get to the point where he liked Colin, but he quit shooting off his mouth and started showing him the respect that should have been there all along. Of course, when I found my lover crying in his dressing room, I saw six shades of red. Dan really has no idea how lucky he is that I didn’t go back to his office and break his neck. Instead, I pulled Colin into my arms and hugged him, letting him cry into my shoulder as I told him how much I loved him. That calmed him down a little and he leaned back, sniffling and trying to blink back tears. My heart began to ache with love as I watched him and I leaned forward, gently kissing his tears away. When he realized what I was doing, Col’s eyes got bright again and he smiled. In that moment, I realized why his mother sometimes calls him ‘Sunshine.’ He was so beautiful that I couldn’t help it: I leaned in and kissed him until we were both breathless, trying to convince him with the touch of my lips just how special he was. It worked... kinda. He was still insecure about Dan’s smartass remarks, but I think I managed to persuade him that, lack of hair or not, he was the best man on the stage. Then I locked the door, unplugged the phone, and made love to him until we were both too exhausted to move. And, wonder of wonders, no one tried to interrupt us. Actually, to tell you the truth, I think God felt sorry for us and gave us that one afternoon to just enjoy each other and reaffirm our love. Things were going great for us, both professionally and personally, when I started hearing rumors that ‘Whose Line’ was going to be sold to Warner Brothers. The idea was intriguing, partly because I hated flying with a passion that rivaled my feelings for Colin, but mainly because I was spending most of my time working on ‘The Drew Carey Show.’ Speaking of, I’d developed a pretty close friendship with Drew and one day over lunch, I mentioned the possible move. He surprised me when he told me that he’d known from the beginning, but he shocked the hell of me when he confessed that he was thinking about buying in as a producer. Some careful questioning showed me the logic behind his decision and I found myself considering the advantages of being a producer. If I did, I’d always be a part of ‘‘Whose Line’,’ which meant that Colin would always be a part of it, which meant... “Drew?” I asked, my voice almost shaking with excitement. “Yeah?” he replied, looking curiously at me. “When you, uh---if you decide to do it, would you throw my name in?” Surprise flicked across his face for just a second, but he nodded and said, “Sure. I’ll let you know what happens.” And just like that, it was done. There was a meeting in two weeks to discuss the potential move to the States and Drew would get things going then. All I could do was wait. I didn’t say anything to Colin; if things happened like I was hoping, it would be one hell of a surprise. If they didn’t, there wouldn’t be any hopes to crush. * * * Well, as it happened, I ended up telling Colin by accident. We were finishing up taping for the day, so naturally, we had to do a Hoedown. I swear, between Dan Patterson and Hoedowns, it’s a wonder I still love the show. Anyway, Clive asked for suggestions from the audience and some wit shouted out ‘Colin!’ Clive laughed and nodded to Laura, who promptly rolled out the opening chords. I shot my lover a quick glance and saw that he was red. Grinning, I began thinking about my verse; I didn’t want to embarrass him (too badly), but I did want let him know how much I cared. Apparently, I succeeded, because he pulled me into a crushing hug, hiding his face in my shoulder and taking in several deep, shuddering breaths. As he pulled away, I felt a sudden spark of mischief and put my hands on my shoulders; I wanted to kiss him. Nothing serious, of course, but the audience always ate it up when any of us played at being lovers. It didn’t matter whether it was me and Col, or Greg and Josie, either. They always got a big kick out of it. I don’t know what Col saw in my eyes, but he pulled away and put on a false smile, his eyes looking everywhere but at me. Puzzled, I followed him back to our seats, trying to figure out what had just happened. Luckily, that was the end of the taping. We all got up and left the stage, heading for our respective dressing rooms. Gently, I steered Colin to mine, wanting to know just what the hell was going on. He still wouldn’t look at me and the guilt I sensed was about to drive me up the wall. He stopped in the middle of the floor and began chewing his lower lip; I stood at the door and watched him for a little while, waiting for him to look at me. After about two minutes, I finally couldn’t take it and softly asked, “You want to tell me what that was about?” He shrugged and said, “I’m sorry, Ry. I know we said that we would come out when we were set, but...” Things suddenly made sense and I broke in with, “I wasn’t trying to come out.” That got his attention and he turned, finally meeting my eyes. “But you were going to kiss me,” he protested, his eyes wide with confusion. I smiled. “A stage kiss,” I explained. “To go with the stage hug? It would have gotten a laugh, that’s all.” “Oh,” he said weakly, a faint blush staining his cheeks. My smile widened as I wondered just what he’d thought I was going to do and said as much. His answer was quiet and hesitant. “I don’t know. I guess... I’ve been thinking about it. Telling everyone about us. I know you hate keeping it a secret, and I hate it too, but... I guess I’m a little scared.” Wrapping my arms around him, I tenderly kissed his forehead and sighed. “I know what you mean,” I murmured. “People seem to like us now, but that could change so fast. Besides, I hear that the show is going to be going through some big changes next year. I think it’s going to be sold to Warner Brothers.” “Really?” he asked, his eyes widening in surprise as he tipped his head back and met my gaze. “Yeah,” I replied, tightening my arms. “They’re even talking about replacing Clive.” Colin protested that; he and Clive had been friends almost from the beginning and he had an immense amount of respect for our host. I agreed with him, but I could see the other point of view and did my best to explain it. “Yeah, I know. But there’s always that push for someone younger, and since they’ll be doing the show here in the States, they want an American.” I guess he picked up on my inner thoughts, because his forehead wrinkled and he gave me a puzzled look. “You have something in mind?” “Maybe,” I replied absently, trying to organize my thoughts. “I was actually talking to Drew about it. He’s got boatloads of money, and if he bought in as a producer... this show has amazing potential, Colin. It’s very inexpensive to make, and I think it could be really popular given the right time slot.” “Yeah,” he agreed, dropping his head back to my shoulder. “I’ve even been considering becoming a producer myself.” His jaw dropped and he looked at me again. “What? That’s a lot of money, Ryan.” It was my turn to shrug as I said, “I’m doing pretty well, and it could pay off big time. We’re talking about a solid investment here. And if I did do that, you know we’d always be on the show together, no matter what. With that kind of security...” “We wouldn’t have to worry about keeping things secret anymore,” he breathed, his eyes lighting up with understanding and his nose wrinkling as he smiled. He was so adorable that I couldn’t resist giving him a light kiss on the very tip of his nose. “Bingo,” I confirmed as I straightened, smiling. There was a short span of silence while we both thought about everything that had been said, and then--- “Hey, Ryan...” Something in his voice caught my attention and I looked down at him. “Yeah?” “You want to know what I thought you were going to do onstage?” he purred, trailing his hand down my chest and rubbing it against my groin. I swallowed a moan and pushed into the pressure. “Mmm-hmm,” I mumbled, arching my eyebrows in a silent question and pressing a little more firmly into his hand. His only answer was to tug my head down and capture my lips in a light, teasing kiss. It didn’t stay that way for long. My tongue slid into his mouth, twining with Colin’s, and his hand tightened around me in response. I gasped as heat began to curl through me and felt him smile against my lips. My cotton-addled brain suddenly registered that we were alone and I grinned into Colin’s mouth, sliding a hand down his chest and opening his trousers in a smooth, practiced move. Colin’s skin was flushed and he thrust into my hand, moaning softly as I started to stroke him. Finally, I had to breathe and pulled away from my lover’s soft lips. I couldn’t stay away, though, and began kissing my way down his neck, flicking my tongue out and licking away the drops of sweat that were beginning to bead on his skin. His breathing quickened and he turned his head, nipping the sensitive skin on my collarbone. I couldn’t control my reaction and shivered, searching for the hot spot just below Colin’s ear and scraping my teeth across it. He gasped and I smiled, thrusting forward against his grip. We were completely wrapped up in each other when, distantly, I heard the door squeak open. Heaving a huge mental sigh, I had one brief thought about staying exactly where I was, but common sense managed to prevail. Barely. I pulled away from Colin and he shot me a resigned look before turning around and rearranging his clothes. I just untucked my shirt and let it hang loose; it wasn’t the most elegant solution, but it did the trick. Greg stepped through the door just as we got ourselves presentable; I sighed again when I saw him and promptly pulled Colin against my chest. Since Greg already knew about us, and we knew about his relationship with Tony, we had quit pretending when we were around them. It made for a nice change of pace. Anyway, Greg walked through the door, saw me pull Colin back into my arms, and smirked. He had enough sense not to say anything, though (courtesy of the last ‘meeting’ I had with Dan before he pushed everyone too far and we ganged up on in him), and shut the door, his eyes never leaving mine. There was a long, awkward silence before I couldn’t take it any more and spoke. “Greg?” I asked, giving him a puzzled look. “What are you doing here?” He shrugged. “Well, you know, didn’t really have anything better to do, so thought I’d hang around the studio for a while.” “Okay, so what are you doing in Ryan’s dressing room?” Colin asked pointedly, leaning a little closer to me as if he was just daring Greg to say anything about us. “Well... actually, I kind of wanted to talk to Ryan.” Colin tightened his arms around my waist, narrowing his eyes at Greg. I love it when he gets possessive like that. It's not something he does often, but on those rare occasions... let's just that it's good to be me and leave it at that. “So talk,” I said, waving a hand impatiently. There was a long, awkward silence before he finally spoke. “They kicked me out of the UK,” he said without preamble, his voice higher and more nasal than usual. My jaw and Col’s dropped together, in a display of synchronization that we couldn’t have duplicated if we’d tried. It took me nearly a full minute before I could regain my powers of speech. “Why?” I gasped, my eyes wide with shock. “Well, you remember last year when we were taping in London?” Colin and I nodded, exchanging a significant glance. Greg had been present for most of the tapings we did that year, but he had been bumped from the last two suddenly and without explanation. As far as I knew, he left the country and hasn’t been back since. “Does this have anything to do with the reason you didn’t finish out the season with us?” I asked. “Yeah. See, I was out with Tony the night before I was supposed to be in that taping with you guys and Mike, and we went to Nigel’s,” he replied, dropping his eyes and fidgeting nervously. “I was feeling a little low, so I, uh... I picked up some stuff.” Colin stiffened against me and his eyes darkened with disapproval. I firmly squeezed his shoulders, asking him to stay silent. He wasn’t happy about it, but he did. “We were---um, we were on our way out when the cops came in. They’d been tipped off about a potential bust and, uh, Tony and I got trapped.” There was another long silence while Col and I attempted to process what we’d just heard. Greg finally continued---and I got a sudden, sneaking suspicion about why he’d come to me. “That motherfucker dealer sold me out!” he hissed, his eyes narrowing to slits. “And I can’t go back. Tony got to stay because he’s a citizen, but they revoked my visa.” Here he paused and his gaze turned speculative. “I also heard that the show is going to stay in the States---and that you’re buying in as a producer, Ryan.” I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders, meeting Greg’s eyes directly. “That’s right, Greg,” I said calmly. “And I’m sorry about what happened, but I don’t see what it has to do with me.” He smiled and my heart sank. And before he even opened his mouth, I knew what he was going to say. “I want to be on the show when it changes hands,” he told me. “And if---” “And if I don’t make it happen, you’ll tell everyone about Colin and I,” I finished, my arms tightening protectively around my lover. He was shaking, but it wasn’t from fear. Colin---mild-mannered, even-tempered Colin---was literally vibrating with fury. I agreed with him completely, but I also knew that I had no choice. Even if Col and I hadn’t been lovers, the rumor would have been enough... and we all knew it. Hating myself for what I was about to do, I took a deep breath and spoke. “All right, Greg,” I said heavily. “But you’ll be one of the rotating players. And that’s the best you’ll get.” Greg wanted to argue, but when he saw the look on my face, he swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay,” he said hoarsely. “Now get out, you bastard!” Colin spat, his voice nearly unrecognizable. Greg nodded and quickly left, making sure to close---and lock---the door behind him. Once he was gone, I sagged against my desk and released an unsteady breath. I couldn’t believe what had just happened and Colin wasn’t any better off. God love him, though, he didn’t try to talk me out of what I had done. Instead, he extracted himself from my arms and turned, drawing my head down to his shoulder and murmuring soft, meaningless words against my ear. The red haze finally cleared from my vision and I lifted my head, meeting my lover’s dark eyes. They were full of anger and sorrow and I sighed. Leaning forward, I captured his mouth for a quick kiss before pulling away and whispering, “I’m sorry.” “I know,” he murmured, his chest rumbling against mine. “You didn’t have a choice. But, Ry---the second we come out, I want him gone.” That was one request I had no trouble granting and I said as much, my voice shaking with the anger that was still coursing through my veins. He nodded sadly and pulled me back into his arms, holding me tightly and trying to soothe me with his touch. After a while, it started to work and I calmed down, stepped out of my lover’s embrace, and began pacing the room. Colin stayed quiet and watched me, his expression full of sympathy. I must have paced for ten minutes before he finally couldn’t take it any more and stepped in front of me, placing a gentle hand on my chest. I stopped immediately and Colin smiled. “Don’t worry about it, Ry,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “We’ll talk to Drew; I have a feeling that he’ll understand.” I was startled into a laugh, both at the elegant solution and at the image it produced, and Colin’s smile widened. He raised himself up on his toes and tenderly kissed me, wrapping his arms around my neck and letting me take most of his weight. That little move put us into full-body contact and I groaned, pulling back just long enough to make sure the door was locked. Then I shoved all the crap on my desk onto the floor, pushed Colin down on the now-clean surface, and let our passion sweep us away. * * * So ‘Whose Line’ moved to the States and things settled down for a while. Colin had been right about Drew; once he heard what had happened (the edited version, mind), he went to Dan and they had it out. God, I wish I’d been there. Speaking of Dan, he finally got one of his wishes: by then, Colin was bald on top, so Dan managed to get everyone but me and Drew to agree that Colin needed to dye his hair. As if that wasn’t bad enough, it was this god-awful red color that doesn’t look good on anyone. Other than that, though, life was good. ‘Whose Line’ became an instant hit, which was great, and Col and I began feeling people out, gauging reactions to see how people would respond if we came out. The overall consensus was good, so we started playing around on stage, agreeing that just dropping it in everyone’s lap wasn’t the best course of action. The amount of hair that Colin lost the first two years that ‘Whose Line’ was in L.A. is unbelievable. Of course, when I think about all the times we almost got caught, it’s a miracle we aren’t both raving lunatics (and that Colin has as much hair as he does). There was the time after the kiss we shared to make Drew do a ‘spit-take’ and every time we did ‘Film, TV, and Theatre Styles’ and porn got called, we always went further than was wise and ended up in one of our dressing rooms. And then there was the slow-dancing ‘Greatest Hits,’ the ‘Weird Newscasters’ where Colin panicked at every little thing and I was on a mission to replace everyone on the show (for those of you who don't get that, I chased him off-stage with the purpose of stealing a kiss or four, and the guy on Camera 4 followed us out), the time that we were plumbers in slow motion and Colin spanked me (that was a good one), and that game of 'Party Quirks' where Colin liked to put his hands in other people's pockets. And, of course, there was the famous ‘Maltese Burger’ kiss. So many chances... and we got interrupted after every single one. I’m sure Col can come up with a lot more occasions, but I think... no, actually, I know that out of all those near-misses, the one after ‘The Ravenous Boa Constrictor’ is one that stole the most hair---from both of us. Dan couldn’t have set up our quirks better if he’d known: Colin was a man turned on by danger and I was a ravenous boa constrictor. We very nearly gave ourselves away with that; Colin always gets excited when I do that little tongue thing I’ve perfected and the look in his eyes as he teased me by bringing himself to the edge had me harder than a rock (of course, the audience thought that it was fake. Oh, if they only knew...). I still don’t know how I managed to walk back to my seat and Colin wasn’t in any better shape. We were scheduled for a break in twenty minutes, but there was no way in hell that I was going to last that long---and neither would Colin. When Drew shot me a sympathetic look, I almost laughed; of course, that was to keep from crying, but it got us the reprieve that we so desperately needed. As Colin and I staggered off the stage, taking special care to avoid the other cast members, I remember thinking that I was forgetting something important. Then Colin shoved me through the door of my dressing room, slammed it behind him, and pushed me against the wall, dropping to his knees as he frantically tugged at my slacks. The second he had access, Colin freed his prize and met my heated gaze for a split second before taking me. It felt so good and I pushed my hips forward, choking back a cry as he raked the underside of my crown with his teeth. He grunted and shifted his position, deep-throating me as he did. “Oh, God...” I groaned, scrabbling desperately at the wall in a vain attempt to stay in control. He did it again, swallowing this time, and I lost it. My cry echoed around the room as I came, my head thudding against the wall as I gave Colin my completion. When I could think again, he had his arms loosely wrapped around me and his head was tucked into my neck. I smiled and nuzzled his cheek before seeking his lips. Our kiss was sweet and tender, an odd contrast to the passion still thrumming between us, and Colin smiled against my mouth. I returned it as I unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks, pushing them down his thighs and slowly sinking to my knees. Even after all the years that we’ve been together, the sight of him still takes my breath away and that day was no exception. I just looked at him for a few seconds before my desire became too much. Passion crashed over us like a tidal wave and I hungrily took him, working my tongue over every inch of his rock-hard shaft. He moaned my name and buried his hands in my hair, lightly thrusting into my mouth. Then, suddenly, I heard voices---and abruptly remembered what it was that I’d forgotten. My mother had called and told me that she, my dad, my brother, and one set of grandparents were coming to L.A. to see me do the show; a day later, Colin had gotten the same message from his family. We knew immediately that it was a conspiracy, but there wasn’t anything we could do about it, so we marked it on the calendar---April 6---and promptly forgot about it. Today was the sixth of April. Oh, fuck. * * * Colin I can’t begin to tell you how much fun we had once the show moved permanently into the States and Ryan became a producer. We suddenly felt a lot more secure, and we really started to let loose on stage. It was kind of funny, in a way. We could feel out the fans’ reactions to us, and see the speculation that was running wild. Amazingly enough, many of the fans actually seemed to hope that we were a couple. Ryan never really did warm to computers, but I spent a lot of time on the Internet and I would occasionally look up our names to see what popped up. To my surprise, there seemed to be a whole online community devoted to the idea of Ryan and I as a couple. When I showed him, he was flabbergasted. “You’re kidding me. How many people are we talking about here?” he asked. “Hundreds. At least.” “Shit,” he replied eloquently, sinking down in a chair beside me. “And they all know that we’re together?” “No, no, they *think* we’re together. Although most of them seem pretty sure about it. You should see some of these sites, Ry. The pictures, the dates... these people have detailed arguments about why it’s likely that we’re a couple. I swear some of these things look like research papers. I never realized it until I read this stuff, but we’ve been pretty damn obvious over the years.” He frowned slightly, giving me a troubled look. “What do you mean, pictures? We’re not... nobody is following us around when we’re offstage, are they?” I chuckled. “No, these are just pictures from the show. We’re suggestive enough on stage to make people think we’re together. If they ever saw us in private, well then there wouldn’t be any doubt, would there?” “That’s for sure. So you’re telling me that these people actually spend their time debating about whether or not we’re a couple?” I nodded, and then turned back to the computer, bringing up another site. “That’s not all. Not only do they speculate, they actually write stories. Some of them are pretty good, too. And some of them... whew. Hot stuff.” He smirked, putting a hand on my leg and letting his fingertips gently brush my inner thigh. “Really? Just how hot are we talking about here?” I showed him a few of my favorites. Now, they say that men are visually stimulated. That’s why men watch porno and women read romance novels. But when the story in question is actually written specifically about you, well... stimulating doesn’t even come close to describing it. And what was kind of scary about the whole thing was how close to the mark some of those stories came. It made me aware that everything I do on stage is being recorded and closely scrutinized by some fan somewhere who is ready to read all kinds of meaning into it. Every soft look I give Ryan, every touch we share, every stage kiss... someone, somewhere, is taking note of it. It made me feel a little uneasy, but at the same time, exhilarated. Kind of like sex in a public place. The stories and fan sites did a lot to reassure us that at least one group of people would be very accepting of us when we did come out. Hell, they’d be ecstatic. Of course, ABC would probably censor just about any open admission of a relationship, but there had to be some kind of way to sneak it in. We just weren’t sure what it would be. So we kept leaving subtle clues, playing around suggestively on stage and just hoping everyone would get the hint. We figured that if all the fans already assumed we were together, then the network would be more accepting of an outright declaration. With that in mind, we went a tad overboard on that game of ‘Let’s Make a Date.’ And of course, the quirks set us up for it. The whole thing couldn’t have been better if we’d planned it. Ryan was making me crazy with that tongue thing he does, and I was giving it right back to him. He loves to see me get so turned on that I lose control and forget where I am, and I got very close to that point. I think that if Drew had let the game go on much longer we would have ended up coming out right then and there because we wouldn’t have been able to stop. But, of course, we did stop. Temporarily. We just picked it up again the moment we got off that stage. After nearly twenty years together, the heat between us is as strong as ever. Yet another thing to add to my list of reasons why I love Ryan. Anyway, we ended up in his dressing room, and right away I went down on him. We’re flexible in that our relationship doesn’t have set roles. I’m not necessarily a ‘bottom’ and he’s not always a ‘top,’ but it does usually work out that way. I love having him in my mouth nearly as much as I love being in his. So I went for him first, because I was damn impatient to taste him again. Besides, I was still so turned on from what he had done on stage that I needed a few minutes to pull myself together, or I was going to lose it the second he touched me. He must have still been pretty hot too, because he came quickly. It always makes me feel good to know that I have that affect on him. To know that I can turn him on with something as little as a look and bring him off so fast that he never has a chance to catch his breath. Then it was my turn, and my knees nearly buckled as I felt his hot, talented mouth around me. I just kept picturing that tongue thing he did on stage, and I could feel him doing it now, flicking rapidly along the underside of my shaft and around the sensitive crown. I think I moaned his name---it was the only word that I knew at the moment. Suddenly a sensation of coolness rushed over me as the air hit my wet, sensitive skin. It took me a moment to realize that Ryan had pulled back, his hands resting on my thighs and his head cocked in a listening posture. I whimpered, gently tugging his head closer and thrusting my hips forward. He absently put a hand on me, stroking me even as he kept that listening posture. “Ryannnn...” I whined, pushing against his hand. It was good, but it wasn’t what I needed. “Sshhh,” he hissed, giving me a sharp look. “Does that sound like my mom’s voice to you?” “What?” “Don’t you remember what day it is?” “What does that have to do with anything?” I asked impatiently. “Can you just hang on for a minute?” “Is this really a time to be playing ‘Questions Only’?” He gave me a look, and an extra squeeze that made me gasp. “I’m not playing, you goof. Today is the day that our families were supposed to watch the taping. And I could swear that I just heard my mom’s voice.” That was enough to clear the cotton out of my mind, and I really listened. Sure enough, I could hear not just one, but several voices, all of them chattering excitedly. And they were getting closer. “Why are they backstage?” I whispered, looking anxiously toward the door. I couldn’t remember if we had locked it or not. “I don’t know. Maybe the guys thought it would be nice for them to be able to see us.” “Like this?” I asked incredulously. Ryan was still on his knees at my feet, my pants were around my ankles, and his hand was still slowly stroking me in a maddening way that made me push against his palm even as I heard the voices getting closer. “Come on, we’ve gotta get presentable,” he said as he began to pull away. I grabbed his shoulders, holding him down. “Ryan... can’t we just finish? Please? If you leave me like this, I won’t be able to talk to them coherently at all. And it’ll show through my pants anyway. Plus I won’t be able to go back on stage when the break is over.” I was coming close to begging and I knew it, but when you’re so hard that it hurts, dignity takes a backseat to need. “Got it pretty bad, do you?” he asked with a smirk. “Yes, smartass, thanks to that shit you pulled on stage. So do you think you could hurry?” I guess he heard the frustration and impatience, because he gave in and quickly pulled me back into his mouth. I braced one hand on his shoulder and the other against the wall as my knees threatened to buckle again. He was doing the tongue thing again, and sucking, and going up and down faster and faster... Damn. Suffice it to say that I was getting to the edge astonishingly fast. Ryan can always do that to me---when he wants to make me putty in his hands, he knows exactly how to drive me wild and make me last about a minute. I was starting to feel those familiar waves of heat radiating from the aching tightness in my groin, and I moaned, pushing harder into his mouth. He took what I had to give, and when I bumped against the back of his throat, he swallowed. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the end. I was done. I think I cried out his name, and something about how he was a god, but I’m not sure. I know I told him that I loved him, over and over in a rapid whisper. He let me slip out of his mouth, taking care to avoid the now hypersensitive skin at the crown, and rose to his feet. I slumped against him, pressing my face into the crook of his neck, and he held me, leaning us both against the wall. “Love you,” I murmured. “And thanks.” “Love you too, and it was my pleasure. Literally.” “Mmmm...” I kissed his neck gently, and then pulled back a little so I could reach his lips. I could taste myself on them, and I lightly ran my tongue around the edges, soft and teasing. He smiled against my mouth and kissed back, with gentle brushing touches. I was just getting involved with tasting him more deeply when someone behind me cleared their throat loudly. Ryan and I both froze for a moment, our eyes snapping open and our lips still touching. Then I quickly pulled away and whirled---somewhat difficult since my pants were still around my ankles. Now that I think of it, Ryan’s were in the same condition. We were both essentially naked from the waist down. And there, taking in the view, was a substantial portion of both our families. Ryan’s parents and one of his brothers, my mom and my sister, and an elderly couple who had to be Ryan’s grandparents. For a moment, I thanked God that my dad had passed away the year before and wasn’t around to see this. “Ummm... could you excuse us for a couple minutes?” Ryan choked out, trying to pull up his slacks and mine at the same time. Nobody moved. They looked frozen to the spot, their mouths hanging open. I felt the same way. I knew I should pull my damn pants up, but I couldn’t seem to move. I felt like the classic deer in the headlights. “Colin!” Ryan hissed, tugging at my trousers, and I snapped out of my paralysis long enough to pull them up. My hands were shaking as I refastened them and buckled my belt, and I could see Ryan’s doing the same. We stood up and shared a nervous look before turning to look at our audience. “Umm... how long were you there?” I asked, my voice coming out in a squeak. “Long enough,” Ryan’s dad replied. Most of the others were politely looking away, but he was glaring at Ryan, his head lowered like a bull getting ready to charge. Ryan straightened, lifting his chin and glaring back at his dad. “Look, this isn’t how we wanted you to find out, but as long as you’re here---“ “You shut up,” Ryan’s dad snapped, cutting him off. “Hank...” Ryan’s mom put a hand on her husband’s arm, trying to calm him down. “You stay out of this,” he said, brushing her off without even looking at her. I stepped a little closer to Ryan without thinking about it. I always knew his dad had a temper---I actually assumed that Ryan got his own temper from Hank---but I’d never seen it in action before. We had talked about telling our families about our relationship, but Ryan had always hesitated because he was afraid of how his father would react. The senior Stiles had some pretty strong negative opinions about gays and what they... we... do. “C’mon dad, give him a chance to explain,” Ryan’s brother, Richard, chimed in. “There’s nothing to explain. You... you... how dare you do this to us? To your grandparents? If you’re going to be one of those disgusting fags, couldn’t you have the decency to do it in the privacy of your own home? Or do you not even know what the word decency means anymore?” Ryan flinched. I could see the tension level rising in his shoulders, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. He stared down at the floor and didn’t say a word, but I could see his eyes narrowing and his jaw clenching in that stubborn, mulish expression I knew so well. “Hank, that’s enough,” Lynn said firmly, tugging at his arm. He pulled away from her, only to have Richard grab him from the other side. Ryan’s brother was almost as big as he is, and together they started pulling Hank from the room. “I didn’t raise you to be one of those freaks!” he shouted, and Ryan flinched again, his shoulders tightening a little more. “And you,” he snarled, pointing at me. “What did you do to my son? You fucking fairy, you stay away from him! I’m gonna---“ The rest was cut off when Richard pulled him from the room and hissed at him to “Shut up already! Just calm down!” Lynn looked at us apologetically. “It’s just... the shock, you know. He’ll get over it. Don’t worry about it, dear.” Ryan nodded, still staring at the floor. I could see him shaking. “Well, I’m going to talk to him. I’ll... see you later, I suppose. And I’m sorry about this. We didn’t mean to walk in on... um...” “That’s okay,” I said quickly. Lynn nodded uncomfortably and left, presumably to try and talk some sense into her husband. Ryan was still examining the little bit of floor between his feet, and I smiled weakly at my mom and sister. They had watched the whole ugly scene with Hank silently. “Uh... hi, guys,” I said, waving one hand like an idiot for a moment before dropping it back to my side. “I, uh... surprise?” My mom nodded slowly, blinking, but Sara laughed. I cocked my head at her, giving her a look of disbelief, but that only made my sister laugh harder. “You should have seen the look on your face,” she said, shaking her head. To my surprise, my mom actually giggled a little. “So... you’re not mad?” My mom shrugged. “Nah. To tell the truth, I always kind of suspected. Why didn’t you tell us sooner? Or is this a recent thing?” “No, we’ve been together... well, pretty much ever since we met,” I said, feeling like I was watching someone else talk. There was an odd sense of unreality about the whole thing. My mom and sister didn’t just walk in on me getting a blowjob, did they? And they weren’t actually laughing about it, right? Ryan lifted his head, finally meeting their eyes. He smiled, but I could tell it was a stage smile. He was obviously still pretty shaken by the whole scene with his father. “Uh, hi, Sara, Jackie, nice to see you again. Welcome to L.A.” His voice was weak, and he looked like he couldn’t believe the words were coming out of his mouth. “Hi Ryan,” Sara said brightly, grinning at him. She’d always had something of a crush on him, which was pretty silly since she was in her late thirties. I guessed that now she knew why he never responded to her flirting. “Uh... could you guys give us a minute?” I asked, glancing at Ryan again. “Oh, you weren’t done?” my mom asked, her eyes dancing merrily. “Mommmm...” I whined, ducking my head. How do parents do that? With the smallest thing, they can somehow reduce you to a shy child again. “We just need to talk a little, that’s all.” “Oh. Okay.” She grinned at us, and I guess her calm acceptance only reminded Ryan of how upset his dad had gotten, because he sighed, the fake smile dropping off his face. “I’m sorry you had to see that whole thing with my dad,” he muttered. My mom gave him a sympathetic look. “Don’t worry dear. He’ll come around. And in the meantime, welcome to the family!” Ryan smiled at her---a real smile this time---and nodded. “Thanks,” he murmured. “You’re welcome. And I’ll see you boys on stage.” Then she left, pulling my still giggling sister with her. I took a moment to marvel at the thought that even though the small fringe of hair I had left was going gray and I was pushing forty from the wrong side, she still called me a boy. “That was...” Ryan trailed off, staring at the floor again. “You know what it reminded me of? Your mom walking in on us that first night when we were in that dressing room,” I said, trying to make him smile again. “Yeah, I guess we have bad luck with dressing rooms, don’t we?” he replied, but he still wasn’t smiling. He met my eyes, looking serious and apologetic. “I’m sorry, Col.” “For what?” “For what my dad said. What he called you.” I waved my hand dismissively. “Who cares what he thinks?” Ryan sighed. “I do,” he murmured, and his shoulders slumped a little more. “I’ve always tried to impress him, you know? But I never... my brothers all joined the Air Force, and I quit high school to tell dirty jokes in strip clubs. They got married and I got... you. And I love you, I love my life, and I wouldn’t change a second of it, but...” “But you wish he could accept who you are?” “Yeah.” “Ryan,” I began, putting my hands on his shoulders. “Your mom was right. He was just surprised. Once he calms down, he’ll get over it. He got over you quitting high school, didn’t he? He got over you being a comedian, and not being married... he’ll get over this. He may have a temper, but he still loves you.” Ryan gave me a tremulous smile, and then suddenly leaned forward, wrapping his arms around my back and burying his face against my shoulder. He was shaking, and I held him, whispering reassuring things into his hair. I could feel his chest hitching a little, and my eyebrows shot up. Ryan doesn’t cry. In the twenty years that I’d known him, I could count the number of times he lost it like that on one hand. He’s always been emotionally reserved, and the fact that he was crying now said a lot about just how much his father’s opinion meant to him. That was when Drew walked in. Ryan quickly pulled away, wiping at his eyes and sniffing, turning away so Drew wouldn’t see what he’d been doing. I glared at our host, wishing I could pull Ryan back into my arms and let him finish, since he obviously needed it. “Has the whole fucking world forgotten how to knock?” I snapped, throwing my hands up in the air. “Whoa... uh... I just wanted to warn you guys that I let your families back stage so they could talk to you during the break. Did they find you yet?” Drew asked, shooting little puzzled glances at Ryan out of the corner of his eye. I laughed ruefully. “Yeah, they found us all right. Remind me to thank you for that one later.” Drew frowned. “What’s going on here?” “Tell him,” Ryan said, giving me a level look. His eyelashes were wet, dark and spiky, and I resisted the urge to kiss away the moisture. “You sure?” I asked. “Yeah. Our families know, we might as well tell Drew.” “Tell me what?” Drew asked, looking back and forth at us. “Well,” I said, sighing heavily. “You know that whole thing we just did on stage with the ravenous boa constrictor quirk?” “Yeah...” Drew said in a ‘where are you going with this?’ voice. “Well, it wasn’t an act. And we came back here to finish what we started. And our families walked in on us.” “Oh.” Drew raised his eyebrows, casting another curious glance at Ryan. “I’m guessing they didn’t take it too well.” “Not exactly,” Ryan said, and sighed in that long, shuddering way that comes after crying. “You’re not surprised?” I asked, giving Drew a confused look. He grinned. “About you two? Not at all. I pretty much assumed you were together. You’re not exactly subtle, you know?” Ryan and I exchanged a look. “So we’ve been told,” I said wryly. “Look... could you give us a couple more minutes before we have to go back on stage?” “Sure,” Drew said sympathetically. “And for what it’s worth, I’m happy for you guys. You’re obviously great together. And your families will see that too.” “Thanks,” Ryan said, and then wiped at his eyes sheepishly, blinking and looking away. Crying always embarrassed the hell out of him. “No problem. I’ll stall Dan for another ten minutes or so, but then we do need you back out there. Are you... are you going to be okay to finish the taping?” We assured him that we would be fine, and he gave us a thumbs up as he walked out the door. Ryan and I looked at each other, and then he settled heavily onto the couch and stared at his hands. I sat down beside him and pulled him into my arms. He went easily, resting his head against my shoulder and sighing, closing his eyes. “What do we do now?” he murmured, pulling me a little closer. “We’ll be okay. And hey, we just told a whole bunch of people about us. Doesn’t it feel good to have it out?” He shrugged. “I guess so. It would feel better if everyone reacted the same way that Drew and your mom did.” “He’ll come around, Ryan. Take it from someone who knows---you’re impossible to stay mad at.” He grinned at me, tilting his head to give me a quick kiss. “Yeah... I guess it is good to have it out in the open. Of course, we still have to think about coming out on stage.” “You know we could, Ry. The show is a hit, and we’re the widely acknowledged stars. People love us. And people are more accepting of our kind of relationship than ever. If we came out... there might be a little surprise, and sure, maybe some disapproval, but they’d get over it. Pretty soon we’d be yesterday’s news. And life would go on, with us not having to keep it a secret anymore.” “That would be nice,” he mused, shutting his eyes again. He cuddled into my shoulder, sighing happily. “Don’t get too comfortable, Big Bird. We’ve gotta go back out there pretty soon,” I said as I ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it away from his forehead and stroking my palm down the nape of his neck. He smiled and pushed into the caress like a cat---I swear he was purring. “Mmm... I love when you do that.” “I know.” “Hey, Col... let’s not come out on stage today, all right? I think I’ve had enough for one day.” I nodded, still stroking his hair. “Yeah, I know what you mean. But how are we going to do it?” “We’ll improvise something. It’s what we do. I mean we can just keep going along like we have been, doing suggestive things on stage, pushing the envelope, seeing just what gets censored and what doesn’t. And then, when the opportunity comes up, we’ll take it.” “Sounds like a plan,” I murmured, feeling a little drowsy myself. After all, we had just basically had sex, and that always leaves me sleepy and relaxed. And Ryan felt so good curled against me, warm and solid and familiar. That was when someone knocked on the door. I groaned and closed my eyes for a moment, trying to hide from the annoying noise, but it kept going. Then I heard Drew’s voice, calling through the still closed door. “See? I’m knocking this time. And we need you guys; the crowd is getting impatient.” Ryan sighed and burrowed against me for another second before moving away reluctantly. He rose to his feet and offered me a hand, pulling me up beside him. We stood close for a moment, my hand lightly curled around his upper arm and his palm against my waist. He kissed me, sweet and gentle, and then we walked toward the door arm in arm. Drew gave us a bemused look when he saw how we were standing, and he ushered us down the hallway. As we got closer to the sound of the crowd, we edged apart, putting our stage faces on. After all, the show must go on. * * * Ryan As Colin and I made our way back to the stage, carefully avoiding touching each other, my mind flashed back to what had just happened. I was still in shock, I think; I mean, I knew that my dad didn’t approve of gays, but I never thought that he’d just... lose it like that. And the things he said to Colin... if the rest of my family and part of Col’s hadn’t been standing there, I would have decked him. Rich saw the rage in my eyes and quickly got Dad out of there, trying to get him to shut up. Mom offered an apology and followed them, ushering my grandparents out as she went. That left Col’s mom and sister and I sighed, mentally steeling myself for Round Two. Imagine my shock when they not only accepted it, they laughed at it. I was overjoyed that Colin’s family was happy for us, but it made the bitter ache in my heart worse because I knew that my father would never accept that I loved Colin, or believe that Colin loved me. I guess Jackie and Sara understood, because they teased us a little more and then left, quietly closing the door behind them. We stood there for a second, the silence stretching between us, before I spoke. “That was...” “You know what it reminded me of? Your mom walking in on us that first night when we were in that dressing room,” Colin broke in, his lips quirking up in a smile as he gave me a knowing look. “Yeah, I guess we have bad luck with dressing rooms, don’t we?” I murmured, looking at him for the first time since my father had been forcibly removed from the room. “I’m sorry, Col.” “For what?” he asked, surprise coloring his voice. “For what my dad said. What he called you,” I choked out, watching enviously as he waved dismissively. “Who cares what he thinks?” Col said carelessly, dropping his hand and looking at me with loving eyes. Sighing, I dropped my head and whispered, “I do. I’ve always tried to impress him, you know? But I never... my brothers all joined the Air Force, and I quit high school to tell dirty jokes in strip clubs. They got married and I got... you. And I love you, I love my life, and I wouldn’t change a second of it, but...” “But you wish he could accept who you are?” Col asked quietly. “Yeah.” “Ryan,” he said, dropping his hands on my shoulders. “Your mom was right. He was just surprised. Once he calms down, he’ll get over it. He got over you quitting high school, didn’t he? He got over you being a comedian, and not being married... he’ll get over this. He may have a temper, but he still loves you.” I managed a half-smile before I lost it, burying my face in my lover’s shoulder and letting him hold me. His soft murmurs were lost in my hair and his touch was so full of tenderness that I felt myself start to cry. Stifling a sob, I pressed closer to my best friend and sniffled. Colin’s arms tightened around me in response and I sighed. And then Drew walked in. I instantly backed away from my lover, scrubbing my eyes and vaguely hoping that Drew hadn’t seen anything. Colin, on the other hand, threw his arms in the air and snapped, “Has the whole fucking world forgotten how to knock?” “Whoa... uh... I just wanted to warn you guys that I let your families back stage so they could talk to you during the break. Did they find you yet?” Drew asked, his voice puzzled. Ruefully, Colin laughed and said, “Yeah, they found us all right. Remind me to thank you for that one later.” “What’s going on here?” Drew demanded. Things suddenly became too much and I looked at Colin, steadily meeting his eyes. “Tell him,” I said wearily, sick to death of hiding it. “You sure?” he asked, his surprise showing clearly. “Yeah,” I confirmed. “Our families know, so we might as well tell Drew.”  “Tell me what?” Drew asked, his gaze flicking between Colin and I. “Well,” Col said with a sigh, “You know that whole thing we just did on stage with the ravenous boa constrictor thing?”  “Yeah... ” Drew answered. His voice had a quality that told me he knew what Colin was going to say. “Well, it wasn’t an act. And we came back here to finish what we started. And our families walked in on us.”  “Oh.” That was all he said as he raised his eyebrows, throwing me another glance. “I’m guessing they didn’t take it too well.”  “Not exactly,” I muttered bitterly, my voice thick with unshed tears. “You’re not surprised?” Colin asked. Drew grinned and said, “About you two? Not at all. I pretty much assumed you were together. You’re not exactly subtle, you know?”  I exchanged a quick look with Colin, who said, “So we’ve been told.” There was a brief lull in the conversation and then Col softly said, “Look... could you give us a couple more minutes before we have to go back on stage?”  “Sure,” Drew answered, his voice full of sympathetic understanding. “And for what it’s worth, I’m happy for you guys. You’re obviously great together. And your families will see that too.”  “Thanks,” I said, looking down and surreptitiously wiping my eyes. I hated crying. “No problem. I’ll stall Dan for another ten minutes or so, but then we do need you back out there. Are you... are you going to be okay to finish the taping?” Col and I nodded and Drew left, giving us a thumbs-up before pulling the door shut behind him. I looked at my lover for a second before flopping down on the couch, staring at my hands. Colin sank down beside me, wrapping himself around me and pulling my head down onto his shoulder. I took a deep breath, filling my nose with his scent, and closed my eyes. We stayed like that for a little while before I stirred. “What do we do now?” I asked, huddling closer to his warmth. “We’ll be okay. And hey, we just told a whole bunch of people about us. Doesn’t it feel good to have it out?” I shrugged listlessly and said, “I guess so. It would feel better if everyone reacted the same way that Drew and your mom did.” “He’ll come around, Ryan. Take it from someone who knows---you’re impossible to stay mad at.”  I couldn’t help but grin at that and tipped my head, kissing him quickly. “Yeah... I guess it is good to have it out in the open. Of course, we still have to think about coming out on stage.”  “You know we could, Ry,” Colin replied eagerly, his eyes brightening. “The show is a hit, and we’re the widely acknowledged stars. People love us. And people are more accepting of our kind of relationship than ever. If we came out... there might be a little surprise, and sure, maybe some disapproval, but they’d get over it. Pretty soon we’d be yesterday’s news. And life would go on, with us not having to keep it a secret anymore.”  “That would be nice,” I admitted, closing my eyes again and settling myself more comfortably against him. “Don’t get too comfortable, Big Bird,” he admonished lovingly. “We’ve gotta go back out there pretty soon.” He tenderly stroked my hair, brushing it back from my forehead and gently sliding his hand down the back of my neck. I sighed in contentment and pressed against his hand, enjoying his touch. “Mmm... I love when you do that,” I purred. “I know,” he replied smugly. I laughed softly before becoming serious again. “Hey, Col... let’s not come out on stage today, all right? I think I’ve had enough for one day.”  I felt him nod as he said, “Yeah, I know what you mean. But how are we going to do it?”  “We’ll improvise something,” I replied, perking up a little. “It’s what we do. I mean we can just keep going along like we have been, doing suggestive things on stage, pushing the envelope, seeing just what gets censored and what doesn’t. And then, when the opportunity comes up, we’ll take it.”  “Sounds like a plan,” he agreed drowsily. I smiled when I realized that he was almost asleep. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to curl up beside him, drift off, and not have to face the world for a while. Naturally, we were interrupted. Oh, well, I thought ruefully. At least they knocked. Then Drew called, “See? I’m knocking this time. And we need you guys; the crowd is getting impatient.”  I sighed in annoyance and regret, pressing closer to Colin for a quick second before getting to my feet and offering my lover a hand. He accepted it and I drew him up; he was facing me and I paused, drinking in his beloved features before leaning in and kissing him. It was tender and loving but I kept it light, knowing that we had to go. Drew was waiting for us right outside the door and the look we got when he saw us almost set both of us off. Our boss shook his head, gesturing to the hall and the waiting stage. Col and I nodded, put our stage faces on, and calmly walked to our seats. After all, the show must go on. * * * The remainder of the show went well, even though I was sick with nerves. Our families were sitting in the front row, so we had a clear view of them. My father wouldn’t look at me, but he glared at Colin through the rest of the taping, curling his hands into fists and clenching his jaw so hard he had to have cracked a few teeth. And Colin, God bless him, completely ignored him. Well, to be fair, other than a smile to our combined relatives, he ignored everyone but me. At least we didn’t have to worry about going too far onstage this time; being walked in on had pretty much killed the mood (which was a good thing, I suppose). Afterwards, Col and I waved to the fans and got the hell out of dodge. Drew went with us and quickly pulled us into the production office. It ensured privacy from everyone except Dan and the other producers, but since they were doing the final wrap-up of the taping, we were safe. Drew shut the door and regarded both of us with an unreadable expression. “What are you going to do?” he asked suddenly. Caught off-guard, I blinked owlishly at him and opened my mouth. Nothing came out and Colin chuckled quietly as he took my hand and squeezed. “Well, right now, we’re going to take our families home and get that out of the way. And then we’re going to disappear for a week, during which time we’ll decide what to tell the cast.” I nodded in silent agreement and Drew frowned for a second before sighing. “All right. I won’t say anything---but you better have something worked out by the next taping,” he added severely when he saw the relief on our faces. “We will, Drew,” I assured him, a smile briefly coming to my lips. “Now can we get out of here?” Colin asked impatiently, shifting his weight and bouncing on his toes. “Yeah,” Drew said, moving aside. I released Colin’s hand and went to my friend, hugged him quickly, and opened the door. “Thank you,” I murmured, trying to let my eyes express what I was feeling. Colin came to my side and slipped his arm around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder. “Thanks,” he echoed, his voice full of gratitude. “No problem,” Drew replied quietly. “And guys---” We paused at the door and waited; Colin arched one eyebrow and I cocked my head in inquiry. Drew shuddered and said, “Do you know how freaky it is when you do that?” Before we could answer, he continued, his expression turning serious. “I’m happy for you two. And whatever you decide, I’ll be there for you.” I nodded silently and pulled Colin out of the room, trying to keep my composure. Behind me, my lover sniffed; I knew he felt the same way I did, and I stopped. We were in a little alcove-type-thing and I gently tugged on Col’s hands, bringing him face-to-face with me. We stared at each other for a short eternity before he braced his hands on my chest, lifted himself up, and claimed my mouth for a tender, loving kiss. I moaned softly as I responded, wrapping my tongue around his and pressing a little closer to him. Colin smiled against my lips and pulled me against him for one delicious second before breaking away. I stared at him in surprise, trying to catch my breath, and watched as he did the same. “What’d you do that for?” I demanded, my voice cracking. Even after all these years, he can still do that to me. “Relatives,” he replied, his voice deeper than usual. The reminder brought me back to earth in a hurry and I sighed, stepping back. “Fine,” I muttered petulantly. “But, Col... if my dad starts in on you again, we’re gone. The whole fucking pile of them can stay here for all I care.” “Easy, babe,” he soothed, cupping my cheek in his hand and gently rubbing my jawline with his thumb. I nuzzled into the touch and sighed, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. All I wanted to do was go home, cuddle up on the couch with my best friend, and watch ‘Star Wars.’ Instead, we had to go explain our relationship to our families. The anticipation was killing me, and not in a good way. So, with a huge sigh, I squeezed Colin’s hand and started toward my dressing room. They were waiting for us outside the door and we were greeted with smiles... except for my dad, who turned purple and spat, “I told you to stay away from him, you fucking fa--” That was as far as he got, because I let go of my lover’s hand, grabbed the open front of my dad’s denim jacket, and yanked him nose-to-nose with me. “One more word about Colin,” I hissed, “and dental records won’t be able to identify you.” He turned pale and I nodded in satisfaction, releasing him and going back to Colin’s side. My eyes met Rich’s, who was desperately trying not to laugh, and that helped release the knot of tension coiled in my stomach. Then Colin caught my hand and brought it to his lips; his eyes met mine and the love I saw almost made me forget where we were. “Oh, how sweet,” I heard someone say. Repressing a sigh, I turned away from that intense gaze and found my grandmother beaming at me. My grandfather still looked like someone had knocked him upside the head with a two-by-four, but at least Grandma was happy for us. I suddenly felt claustrophobic and said, “Yeah. Can we get out of here?” Colin gave me a sympathetic look and fished his keys out of his pocket, keeping my hand firmly captured in his. Then he looked over at my dad, who was still red and glaring a hole through both of us, and smiled. I’d been on the receiving end of that smile enough times to be nervous and I swallowed. Hard. Before I could say anything, Colin tugged on my hand, bringing me face-to-face with him, and curved his free hand around my neck. His smile widened and I swallowed again, feeling lightheaded. Then his lips closed on mine and nothing else mattered. Really distantly, I heard the sound of my father raging at the two of us and the jumbled voices of everyone else telling him to shut the hell up. My entire being was focused on Colin and what he was doing to me. His tongue danced with mine as he pressed himself against me and I moaned, deepening our kiss and trying to get closer to him. He laughed into my mouth and gently nipped my lower lip before releasing me and stepping back. I know my eyes were glazed and my lover smiled again before turning and brightly saying, “Ready to go?” And before anyone had a chance to respond, he grabbed my hand and led me out of the building. There was an awkward moment when we got to the car, but our mothers took care of it by declaring that they and my grandparents would go with Col and I, and everyone else would take the other car. Then they hustled us into our car and we the got hell out of dodge. * * * The, uh... discussion... that took place once we got home was---well, to be perfectly frank, it was a bitch. My dad simply would not accept the fact that Colin and I were happy and in love. The concept was foreign to him. I could have dealt with that, I think, but when he started in on Colin again, I lost it. I told him to get the fuck out of my house and not to come back until he had grown up, joined the twentieth century, and accepted the fact that his son was in love with the most wonderful man on the planet. I actually said that, too, even though I was screaming inside. Despite the fact that my father had never simply accepted me for who I am, no matter what the circumstances were, his opinion still mattered to me. And even though I’d never give Colin up, not for anything in this world, I still wanted my father to have one good opinion about me. All I really wanted was for him, just once, to accept me the way I was, and tell me that he’d always love me. You would never have known what I was thinking, though. Not even Colin knew at first. My best friend and lover turned a really neat shade of red as he listened, but he couldn’t hide his eyes. They were full of love and pride and I smiled, pulled him against my chest, and glared at my father. He was purple again and for a minute, I thought he was going to have an apoplexy. Then the rest of our relatives started in on him and I almost burst out laughing at the look on his face. He got his revenge, though. Just before he stormed out of the house, he looked me dead in the eyes and said, “If you ever go public with this---this---whatever the fuck this is, I will disown you completely and you will never see me---or your mother---again.” And with that, he slammed the door shut behind him, leaving a thunderstruck silence. We all stood there for a few minutes before, in a flurry of activity and voices, everyone cleared out of the house. In less than seven minutes, Col and I had the place to ourselves, and my lover slowly turned to face me. He was chalk-white and I frowned, gently brushing a hand down his jaw and trying to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling away from my touch. “Why?” I asked, catching his chin in my hand and forcing him to look at me. “Why?” he repeated incredulously, his eyes widening. “Your father just disowned you because of me, and I---” “Have nothing to be sorry about,” I broke in firmly, putting a finger over his lips to forestall his protest. “Nothing. If he wants to be an asshole, then that’s fine. And if you think for one minute that I’m letting him tear us apart, you don’t know me very well!” “I know you better than anybody,” he replied, kissing my palm before straightening and looking at me with sorrowful eyes. “But, Ryan, he’s your father. Your family. All I a---” “You are my family, Col,” I interrupted, desperate to make him understand. “But even more than that, you are my life. I can’t live without you; don’t you know that? And if it comes down to a choice between him and you... well... Mom knows where we live.” The silence was deafening. Even though Colin was only seven inches away from me, the distance between us was huge. I desperately wanted to go to him, but I couldn’t. What happened next was up to Colin. His eyes revealed his inner struggle and I swallowed, forcing myself not to reach out to him. I needed him to come to me because he knew how much I loved him and believed that he meant more to me than anything in this world. His eyes were dark and unreadable and fear gripped my heart as a bitter, metallic taste invaded my mouth. Then he released a shuddering breath and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around my waist as he pressed himself against me. Blowing out a deep breath, I slid my own arms around him, completing the embrace, and simply held him. We stayed there, just like that, until a flash of lightning illuminated the room. With a sigh, Colin lifted his head from my neck and met my eyes. His voice shaking, he asked, “So what do we do now?” I pulled my lover back into my arms and blew a gentle stream of air across the top of his head. “I don’t know,” I finally whispered, my own voice shaking slightly. “I really don’t know.” * * * Colin Ryan always tried to act like his father’s disapproval didn’t bother him, but I knew better. And the fact that he would put me before his family’s wishes meant a lot. I wanted to go to Ryan’s dad and shake some sense into him, but that wasn’t an option. At least, not at the time. I did do something to that effect later, but... I digress. Our first concern right then was whether or not to tell the cast about our relationship. We were lying curled together in bed, having just made love. It was that same long, crazy day with the ravenous boa constrictor game and our families walking in on us. I know Ryan really needed the escape of simple physical pleasure after all that. Hell, I know I did too. So anyway, we were cuddled together, Ryan’s arms around me and my head tucked neatly under his chin. I’ve always loved how smooth his chest is. The skin was warm and resilient, and I could hear his heartbeat. Steady and reassuring. That’s my Ryan. “You know...” he said suddenly, his voice thoughtful. “I know what?” I asked, not bothering to open my eyes. I was feeling sleepy and sated, and my eyelids were just too heavy to lift at the moment. “You know, most of the regular cast already knows about us.” “Mmmm... they do?” “Yeah,” Ryan replied, one of his big hands gently tracing down my back. I smiled and leaned into the caress, murmuring happily. “What do you mean by regular cast?” I mumbled against his chest. “Well, Drew knows, and Greg...” His arms tightened slightly around me, and I grinned. Ryan has a protective streak a mile wide. “So what are you getting at?” He sighed, lifting me slightly as his chest rose and fell. “I’m saying that maybe we should go ahead and tell the rest of the cast.” That was enough to make me open my eyes, and I lifted my head, looking at him in surprise. “What? Like, everyone?” He kissed me gently, smiling against my lips, and pulled me back down until I was lying on his chest again. “Not everyone. Just the regulars.” “Who are the regulars?” “Well, you and me, and Drew, and...” I nodded slowly. “Wayne. He’s the only full time cast member who doesn’t know.” “Yeah. And I think it’s only fair that we tell him.” “Mmm-hmm... what about the crew? Are we telling Dan?” I asked, trying not to sound nervous. I knew that our position on the show was solid, and Dan couldn’t use this to try and kick me off, but... the man made me uneasy. It’s hard to be comfortable around someone who resents you so obviously. “Nah, I think we should let Dan be surprised along with everyone else when we come out publicly.” Ryan was grinning---I could hear it in his voice. “He’ll have a heart attack,” I said. “We can only hope.” I smacked Ryan lightly on the stomach, and then soothed the place with my fingertips, rubbing in gentle circles. He sighed happily and kissed the top of my head. “So we’re going to tell Wayne?” I asked, reluctantly going back to the serious conversation. “Yeah.” “When?” Ryan shrugged---tricky when you’re lying on your back with someone else on top of you. “I guess we can do it at the next taping. We’re scheduled to have Greg as the fourth seat again, right?” “Mmm... think so,” I murmured sleepily. Ryan was still gently stroking my back, a feeling that was guaranteed to relax me. “Okay, so we get everyone in an office somewhere. Drew and Greg already know, so it’ll only be Wayne we’re surprising,” Ryan said decisively. “How do you think he’ll react?” “Who knows? He’s a devout Christian, and I know they tend to frown on our kind of relationship, but this is Wayne we’re talking about here. He’s our friend. Even if he doesn’t approve, he’ll accept that it’s our choice to make.” “Too bad your dad couldn’t be the same way,” I said, and then immediately regretted it. Ryan tensed beneath me, and his hand pulled away from my back. I lifted my head and looked at him, leaning forward and letting our cheeks brush together for a moment. “I’m sorry, Ry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.” “S’okay. It’s not your fault he’s being an asshole. And you know what? As long as he leaves you alone, I don’t give a shit what he thinks.” Ryan sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than me, but I let it go. We’d had a long, trying day, and it was time to get some sleep. With that in mind, I kissed him again, told him I loved him, and curled against his chest. He took a deep breath and the tension slowly drained from his body. He kissed me back, his lips lightly brushing over my forehead. “Love you, Col...” And then we were asleep. As Scarlett says, tomorrow is another day. * * * The week sped by in the sneaky way that time has when you’re dreading something---although dreading may be too strong a word. I certainly wasn’t looking forward to telling Wayne about our relationship, but it couldn’t possibly be worse than telling our families. When we arrived at the studio, Drew, Wayne and Greg were already there. Drew corralled us as soon as we got in and pulled us into his office. “Have you guys made any decisions?” he asked, leaning back and perching on the edge of his desk. Ryan and I looked at each other. “Yes, as a matter of fact, we have,” Ryan said calmly. “Oh? Want to fill me in?” “Well, we’re going to tell the cast. Just the regulars,” I supplied, and then waited for Drew to come to the obvious conclusion. “But... you two *are* the regulars. Except for me and... oh. Wayne. So you’re telling Wayne?” “Yeah,” Ryan answered. “And Greg, since he’s here anyway.” I cocked my head at him, giving my lover a puzzled look. He only widened his eyes slightly and nodded imperceptibly toward Drew. For some reason, he wanted to Drew to think that Greg didn’t know already. And he wanted me to play along. I shrugged slightly, figuring that Ryan had his reasons. “Uh... what was that?” Drew asked, his eyes narrowing. He had caught the little unspoken communication between us. “Nothing,” we answered in unison, making Drew grin. “You two creep me out sometimes, I swear. So are you doing this before the show, or after?” I looked at Ryan, and he took charge, just like he usually does when I’m uncertain. “Before. In fact, let’s do it right now. Get them in here and lay it all out.” Drew raised his eyebrows. “Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll get them and be right back.” We nodded at him, and he slipped out the door, presumably going to retrieve Greg and Wayne from wherever they were. I fiddled nervously with my hands, rubbing my thumbs together and thinking, until Ryan took my hands in his and held them gently. I looked up at him, and he smiled reassuringly. “It’ll be fine, Col.” I leaned into his chest, and he leaned right back, his breath lightly mussing the baby fine hair on the back of my head. “So you’re not nervous at all?” I asked. “Well... yeah, okay, I’m a little nervous. I mean, after what happened when we told our families...” “Yeah. But like you said, Wayne is our friend. He’ll be okay with it.” Ryan nodded, his arms wrapping around me tightly. I love when he holds me so tight that I can barely breathe. We stayed like that until Drew knocked on the door and Ryan and I exchanged a grin when we realized that he was knocking on his own office door. I guess Drew got a little object lesson in the perils of walking in on us last week. “Yeah, come in,” Ryan called, pulling away from me reluctantly. Drew entered, with Wayne and Greg in tow. Wayne looked confused, but Greg had an odd, speculative look on his face. I got the feeling that maybe he already knew what this was about. “Okay, here they are. It’s all you now,” Drew said, sinking down in his desk chair. Ryan and I exchanged a quick look. I knew that he expected to carry this conversation, because in difficult situations I always let him take charge. But for once, I wanted to be the one to steer. So I took his hand, which earned me a surprised look, and stepped forward, letting Wayne and Greg see the way we were touching for a moment. “Ryan and I have something to tell you guys,” I started. “Oh, you’re finally coming out, huh?” Greg broke in, quirking one eyebrow. “You knew about this?” Drew asked, his jaw dropping. “You didn’t?” Greg shot back. “Knew about what?” Wayne chimed in, looking back and forth like a spectator at a tennis match. “About us,” Ryan supplied, putting an arm around my shoulders. “Oh...” Wayne’s eyes were wide, but he was nodding slowly in understanding. “So you mean that you two actually didn’t know about them?” Greg asked. “Well, I knew,” Drew said. “At least... I knew about a week ago. That’s when I found out.” “I didn’t know at all,” Wayne said softly. He looked like he wanted to sit down. “Jeez, how blind can you be?” Greg inquired snidely. “I mean, they’re all over each other on stage. And they practically read each other’s minds. How could you not see it?” “I... I always suspected,” Drew said defensively. “But I figured it was none of my business.” “Wait a minute,” Wayne interrupted, holding up a hand. “Let me get this straight. You two are... together? As in, sleeping together? Like a couple?” “Yes,” we answered together. I leaned a little closer to Ryan, feeling very self-conscious about touching him that way in front of the guys, but doing it anyway. If we were going to come out, I would have to get used to touching him in front of people. “How... how long has this been going on?” Wayne asked weakly. We looked at each other in surprise. “Um... that was eighty-one that we first---“ Ryan started, his brow wrinkling slightly in thought. “Yeah,” I said, nodding. “Eighty-one. So... eighteen years?” “That’s about right. Damn... doesn’t seem like that long, does it?” Ryan asked softly, smiling down at me. “Time flies when you’re having fun,” I murmured. I knew what he was going to do before he even started to move, but I went with it. When his hand came up to cup my chin and pull me in for a kiss, I leaned into it, keeping my eyes open and fixed on his. I was very aware of the audience we had, and I could feel their incredulous gazes burning into my skin, but I kissed him anyway. We kept it brief, light and teasing, but it could have easily been much deeper. The others reacted as if it had been. Drew winced, covering his eyes, and Wayne swallowed and looked away, shaking his head. Only Greg watched us, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth. “You guys might want to get used to seeing that,” Ryan said challengingly after we had broken the kiss. “Because now that you know, we’re not going to be hiding how we feel around you.” “Great,” Drew said sarcastically, and I raised my eyebrows at him. He relented, lifting his hands and shrugging. “No, seriously, I’m happy for you guys. I said it before and I’ll say it again---you two obviously belong together.” “Good. Greg?” Ryan asked, turning to confront him. “Hey man, you know I’m cool with you guys. Have been for quite some time.” Greg tried to sound casual, but I know he was a little worried. The moment we went public, his hold over Ryan was going to vanish, and he knew it. “Wayne?” I asked, looking carefully at the young man. He was the only one who had really gotten some news today, and I was concerned about his reaction. “I... wow. I guess I always did kinda think that you two were more that friends, but to have it confirmed like that...” He trailed off, taking a deep breath. “But still... eighteen years, huh?” “That’s right,” I said, smiling up at Ryan. “Then you must be doing something right. I’m not... I’m not homophobic or anything, but it’s not exactly something I’m comfortable with. But if it makes you guys happy, well then good for you.” I felt a smile spreading across my face, and Ryan reached out and patted Wayne on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. We’re really glad that you can be accepting of us. We wanted to tell you before---to tell all of you,” he added, looking around the room. “But we weren’t ready. Pretty soon, though...” “Pretty soon we’re going to come out. Publicly. On stage,” I finished. Greg’s eyebrows shot up, and Wayne shook his head dazedly. “Whoa now, wait just a minute,” Drew protested. “It’s one thing to tell your friends, it’s quite another to tell the whole world.” “Oh come on, the whole world doesn’t watch our show. Be nice if they did, though, huh?” Ryan joked weakly. Drew didn’t laugh. “You know what I mean. This is supposed to be a family show, and we can’t have you two going at it like rabbits on stage.” “Well, we weren’t planning on being that blatant, Drew,” I said dryly. “Although the idea does have a certain appeal...” Ryan elbowed me gently in the side and gave me a look so full of heat that I knew I’d be paying for that little comment later. I grinned at him. “We’re talking about something more subtle here,” Ryan said, steering the conversation back on track. “We’ve already been doing it, being suggestive on stage. We’d just do something that most thinking people could draw their own conclusions from.” “Such as?” Greg asked. “We don’t know yet,” I admitted. “We’re still waiting for the right chance to come up. And don’t worry about us doing anything right away... it may still be a while. But we do intend to come out eventually.” “Huh... well, if you’re determined to do it, I guess I can’t stop you. But you know Dan’s gonna flip when I tell him---“ “No!” Ryan said sharply, cutting Drew off. “You’re not telling him. Nobody is telling him. Is that clear?” They all nodded, and I noticed that Ryan had drawn himself up to his greatest height and was making full use of his best intimidating stare. Drew actually looked a little scared. “It’s just that Dan would cause problems for us if he knew,” I said tiredly. “You all know what he thinks of me.” “I’ve never understood that, though,” Wayne said, cocking his head at me. “I know you two have some kind of tension going on, but I never got why.” Ryan and I exchanged a look. “It’s a long story,” he said, smiling ruefully. Just then, Mark Leveson banged on the door and stuck his head inside, looking worried. “There you guys are! You’re supposed to be in makeup and wardrobe already!” “Guess we’re done here,” Drew said, looking around at all of us. “Yeah, we said everything we needed to say,” Ryan replied, patting me on the shoulder. It was time to go back to being professionals again. We all filed out of the office and started to head our separate ways, but I suddenly thought of something and called, “Wait!” Everyone stopped and looked at me, their puzzlement clearly written on their faces. I ignored them as I went to my lover’s side and slipped an arm around his waist. Only then did I look at our friends and fellow performers. “Okay, I know this is going to sound idiotic, but we’ve had way too many problems with this over the years.” I felt Ryan tense as he fought back a laugh. He knew what I was going to say. “If you can’t find us and the door is shut, knock. Please. It’ll save everybody the---” “We understand,” Drew said hastily, cutting me off mid-sentence. Greg smirked, but I figured he had a right to. After all, he’d been walked in on a few times himself. That’s how Ry and I found out about his relationship with Tony. Wayne nodded silently and started to walk off again. I gave Ryan a quick squeeze and went after Wayne, catching him by the arm and pulling him back. “I want to thank you for being so calm about this,” I said quietly. “Hey, no problem. I... I can’t tell you that it doesn’t make me feel weird, but you guys are my friends. And you’re obviously happy together.” “Yes. We are.” I looked around for a moment to make sure we were alone in the hallway, and then pulled him a little closer. “Look, it’s just that Ryan’s family... well, they didn’t react too well. His dad, mostly. And it really meant a lot to him that you accepted who he is. So... thanks.” Wayne nodded, looking at me seriously. “I hope his dad comes around.” I let him go, and he headed off toward wardrobe. I watched his retreating back and murmured quietly to myself, “Me too, Wayne. Me too.” * * * Ryan I have to admit, I felt a lot better once Wayne and Drew knew about us, and Greg had been reminded that his little blackmail scheme would soon be coming to an end. I still hadn’t forgiven him for that, and neither had Colin, and we were both looking forward to the day when we could tell him to get the fuck out of our lives. About a month after we spilled the news to ‘the regulars,’ Chip and Brad came to us and congratulated us. I managed to keep a straight face and so did Colin, but once we got back to my trailer, we collapsed in the middle of the living room and laughed until we hurt. I was a little surprised that Chip had taken it so well, but Colin asked why I was worrying about it, so I shrugged and let it go. Then Kathy found out. All I can really say about it is that she didn’t take it well. Apparently, she’d been in love with Colin since her first episode of ‘Whose Line’ and thought that he returned her feelings. Things threatened to get ugly, but Colin took her somewhere and either explained things or threatened to hire a hit man, because she never mentioned it again. To this day, though, Kathy still doesn’t like me. I regret the lost friendship and so does Colin, but there’s not a lot we can do about it. Jeff took it pretty well, all things considered, and that more-or-less concluded the ‘telling of the cast.’ Amazingly enough, Dan never heard a thing, and I still can’t believe how much happier Colin and I were. We still had to be careful outside of work, and my father still hadn’t relented, but while we were in the studio, we were free. It was liberating. Then, one day during a taping, Drew apparently got tired of watching us dance around the subject (so to speak). He started taking the really suggestive ideas from the audience and giving them to us during ‘our’ games, and even though we got the unsubtle hint, neither of us was ready. To this day, I’m not sure why it took us so long, but... Anyway, Drew kept pushing things and our guilt (and frustration, to tell you the honest truth) just got worse and worse. To add to the pressure, the situation with my father had deteriorated to the point where just hearing his name made me sick. I still don't know why it bothered me so much, but... I felt like I was slipping away. I just... I didn't care anymore and not even Colin could pull me back. And he tried. Desperately. If it had a snowball's chance in hell of getting to me, Colin did it. Nothing worked, though, and finally, after three months of aggravation and the 'Party Quirks' where Colin didn't believe that people were the sex they claimed to be, he just exploded. I’ve never seen anyone go off the way Colin did and our boss got a first-hand view of what it felt like to lose hair due to stress. I don’t remember anything that he said that day, but I do remember what happened when we got home. Colin crumpled on the couch and just looked at me, his expression begging me to come back to him and his eyes filling with tears. Watching him try not to cry did what everything else had failed to do: it reached past the numbness and drew me out of the ice I'd surrounded my heart with. All of my long-suppressed emotions bubbled up and I lost it. Completely. And for the first time since my father had effectively disowned me, I allowed myself to feel. I didn't hold anything back---the fear, the anger, the pain, the insecurities... the love. I told him everything and for one of the few times in my life, I didn't try to hide behind a stage face. I was just too exhausted from bottling up my emotions to keep myself from falling apart and things finally came to a head. As my barriers shattered, Colin came to my side and pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly and letting me know that he was there as his tears mingled with mine. It was a long, bitter night, and the storm of emotion left me exhausted. It was cleansing for both of us, though, and actually brought us closer together. We made love that night for the first time a long, long while. The emotional intensity behind it left us both shaking and I realized that I had been letting my denial over what I really thought about my father come between us. I’d kept trying to tell myself that his disapproval didn't bother me, but by pushing that emotion away, I’d pushed Colin away, too. And that was not good for my health. My love for him had always been there, but the way I needed him... it was amazing. And I don’t mean it in a clingy-sorta-way, either. It’s more like---well, it’s kinda... I need Colin the way other people need air, and the day that I stop will be the day that I stop breathing. Shame rushed through me as I realized how long it had been since I’d told him what I was feeling and I pulled him closer to me, molding my body to his and nuzzling his neck. “I’m sorry, Colin,” I whispered, my arms tightening. “Don’t be,” he replied just as quietly, his hands coming up to cover mine. “I’ve always known, Ryan---even if you didn’t.” I shuddered at the raw emotion in his voice and pressed a little closer to him, smiling at the pleased murmurs coming from his throat. Then he shifted, rearranging us both until we were wrapped so tightly together that it was impossible to see where he stopped and I started. It had been so long since we’d done this that I felt my throat tighten with the effort to hold back my tears. “I love you, Colin,” I choked, tightening my embrace. “I always will.” “I love you, too, Ryan,” he replied thickly, getting as close to me as he possibly could. “Forever.” * * * Drew backed off a lot after that, which was a relief, but we both knew that it was only a matter of time before something gave. So, Col and I started seriously talking about coming out, considering and discarding several ideas. It’s weird, you know---we were so sick of hiding things, but we were scared to death to come clean. The secrecy was a... a safety net, if you will. It was the one thing we had that was completely ours, and neither of us wanted to give that up. There was also the lingering fear that once we came out, our careers would be over. Don’t get me wrong; Colin has always been and will always be my life, and vice versa, but ‘Whose Line’ is our baby, and by keeping our relationship a secret, we got to have our cake and eat it, too. And, of course, we had our families to think about. My father was still---let’s just say that things hadn’t gotten better between us. Not to mention the fact that once we came out, we would become infamous, and neither Col nor I wanted to see our families get hounded because we were lovers. On the other hand, not being able to touch each other or say “I love you” outside of the privacy of our house was wearing both of us down. It was the proverbial Catch-22 and even though we knew that we had to come out, I think we secretly enjoyed having a double life. So things stayed the same for the next year or so. And then... and then it happened. Now, one thing you have to know about Colin is that behind his mild-mannered appearance and quiet humor is a man who will do anything it takes to protect what is his, and I’m on the top of that list. He’d never really liked my father, thanks to what happened when he found out about us, and the way Dad had been treating me since then was grating on my lover’s nerves. He reined it in, though, and an uneasy truce was born. It lasted until Christmas of that year. Taping for ‘Whose Line’ and ‘The Drew Carey Show’ had been postponed for a month at Drew’s command and he had given Col and I choice: disappear for at least two weeks and enjoy yourselves, or I move in with you. We disappeared. Actually, Col called his mom and arranged for us to go to Toronto for the holidays. Since Drew had given us a month and I still hated flying, we took advantage of the time to do something we’d never done: a road trip. We were looking at a week-long drive and the anticipation was intoxicating. Colin and I were going to be alone and in a car for seven days... oh, the possibilities were endless (and I still owed him for that little stunt he pulled after his first taping of ‘Whose Line’). We packed our stuff, stocked up on beer and junk food, and took off. The first day was great; the weather was beautiful, traffic was surprisingly light, and we were alone. We talked non-stop until we hit Colorado, rediscovering the friendship that had bound us together in the first place and relishing in the chance to simply be. Then we checked into a motel and reminded each other about the joys of being friends and lovers. I felt sorry for whoever was in the room next to us. Well, naturally, things went south... or north, as it were. We woke up the next morning and were greeted with a foot of snow. The roads were drivable, though, so we shrugged, checked out, and hit the road again. Our conversation this time was serious. “Look, Col, I’m just saying that if my dad starts in on us, we’re out of there. It’s Toronto; there’re hotels on practically every corner.” “Ry, we can’t let him run us off,” Colin argued, flashing me a quick glance. “We have to stand up to him or he’ll never---” “Accept us?” I interrupted, my voice bitter. “Well, since I don’t think he’s going to, why should it matter?” “It matters to me,” he replied, giving me another look. “It matters because he makes you doubt what a wonderful person you are,” he added fiercely, his eyes capturing mine. “And it matters because it makes you unhappy.” Stunned, I said nothing and looked away. My mind was trying to process what Colin had told me and it was nearly ten miles before I spoke again. “Col... I... I had no idea,” I whispered, my eyes meeting his briefly before I discovered the fascination of a loose thread in my shirt. “You’d better believe it,” he shot back, a hint of anger coming into his voice. “I’ve had just about all of his crap that I’m going to take.” Had I known how prophetic those words were going to be, I would have caught a taxi back to L.A. that night. Oh, sorry. I’m getting ahead again. Anyway, I let the subject drop and we drove in silence for over an hour before I saw a potential distraction. “Hey, look,” I called, pointing out the window at a small pond. It was iced over and the perfect size to slide across. Have you ever done that? Just taken a running start and let yourself go? It’s exhilarating and for a few seconds, you feel like you can fly. Colin didn’t see it that way, even though he pulled over and walked with me. It took me about four times before I got comfortable, and then I was off. I felt like a kid again and grinned like a maniac as I skidded over that smooth, unmarked surface. Colin watched me with a fond smile from the safety of the pond bank, his eyes dancing. I slid over to him and took his hand, trying to tug him onto the ice with me. He resisted, smirking, and said, “If God had wanted me to be on ice, he’d have made me a vodka martini.” I was so startled that I let him go---and promptly fell on my ass. My lover lost it and hit his knees, laughing so hard that he cried. His reaction set me off and we stayed there, him on his knees and me sagged against his shoulders, laughing our heads off. Gradually, I calmed down and shifted until I could see his face. His cheeks were bright red and wet, his eyes were shining with humor... in short, he was absolutely adorable. I couldn't resist the temptation and leaned forward, kissing him on the nose. His smile widened and he tipped his head back, his eyes meeting mine as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip. I grinned back at him and bent down, brushing my lips over his cheek before claiming his mouth in a soft kiss. It heated up almost instantly when Colin nipped my lower lip and slipped his tongue into my mouth. As he explored, I pulled him closer and curved a hand behind his neck, splaying my fingers through my lover's silky hair and moaning softly with pleasure. Something cold and wet suddenly slithered down my back and I gasped, pushing away from Colin and frantically trying to fish whatever the hell it was out of my clothes. It was unbelievably cold and I glared at my lover as I untucked my shirt and caught the lump of half-melted snow as it fell. He merely grinned and got to his feet; I was still on my knees, so when he stood, it put his groin right at my eye level. I couldn't help my reaction and shivered, licking my lips hungrily. Colin laughed softly and took a step forward, brushing my nose with his erection. I moaned and pressed my face against his thigh, trying to hold on to the last vestiges of my control. A blast of cold suddenly hit my groin and I pulled back, looking down in surprise. The snowball that I had pulled out of my shirt was now spreading across my lap---which was a good thing, because it woke me up enough to remember where we were. A wicked smile suddenly crossed my lips as I thought of a way to get even with Colin and I leaned forward again, blowing a stream of hot air across the fly of his jeans. He moaned in response and pushed closer to me, dropping his hands down to my shoulders. My smile widened as I gently nosed the firm flesh waiting for me, earning another deep moan, and then lightly nipped. Above me, Colin gasped and his hands slipped off my shoulders. I was instantly on my feet and heading for the car, holding back a laugh at the inventive string of curses that followed me. As I opened the door, I pulled my jacket off and tossed it in the back floorboard; the spare blanket followed it, and I reached around the seat, searching for the push-thing that would move it up. I had just found it when Colin pounced; his hand slid between my legs as he latched on to an earlobe and I gasped, throwing my head back and pushing forward into his grip, which had the added benefit of moving the seat as far up as it would go. Colin's hand tightened and I groaned, letting my head fall forward until my forehead was braced against the seat. The delicious pressure suddenly disappeared and my eyes shot open as I tried to turn. Because of our positions, though, I ended up trapping Colin against the door---and, since he still had a pretty good grip, I wasn't going anywhere, either. It was a Mexican standoff and we stared at each other for a few long minutes before Colin smiled slightly and flexed his fingers. Using reserves of strength I didn't know I had, I managed to curb my reaction and meet my lover's eyes. They widened slightly in surprise at my lack of response, but Colin is nothing if not persistent and he did it again, increasing the pressure and twisting his hand. My jaw clenched so hard that it hurt, but I kept my face expressionless and watched as Colin's surprise deepened to confusion. We watched each other for a few seconds before I gave in and twisted back around, freeing my lover. He let go of me and I heard him groan as he pulled away from the door. Instantly, I rolled over and sat up, grabbing his wrists and pulling him snugly against me. “I still owe you for the cop,” I murmured huskily, watching in delight as his eyes widened and he swallowed. Hard. I let the silence linger until it became too much to bear, and then, never releasing Colin's gaze, I reached out and unzipped his jeans. The sound of the teeth as they parted echoed through the car and he shivered, the hair on his arms straightening as goosebumps rippled across his skin. Still in silence, I pushed his shirt up before running my hand down his torso and working it between the rough denim of his jeans and the soft cotton of his briefs. A tortured moan was pulled from his throat and his eyes fell shut as he dropped his head back. A single bead of sweat ran down the sculpted muscles of his chest and I fought the urge to lick it off. Instead, I pulled my hand back and popped the button open, ‘accidentally’ pressing my palm against Colin’s rock-hard erection. That earned me a whimper as a second drop of sweat trailed after the first. Again, I resisted the impulse to lean forward and catch the salty liquid as I lovingly curled my hand around Colin, smiling slightly when he rewarded me with a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a groan. I’d never heard it before, but it struck something deep inside me and I increased the pressure in my palm, wanting to hear it again. As if he had read my mind, Colin repeated that sound and my smile widened for a split second before I tilted my head back and looked into his passion-glazed eyes. “You get to choose the punishment,” I said huskily, watching with unconcealed delight as my lover shivered again, his breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps. Patiently, I waited, knowing that it would take a few minutes for my words to penetrate the sensual haze I’d surrounded Colin with. We stayed just like that, watching each other and fighting the urge to simply give in, until Colin shifted back slightly and closed his eyes. “In your mouth,” he whispered raggedly, his hands tightening into fists. “Please.” The raw need in his voice snapped my thread of control and I moved forward, tugging his jeans and briefs down and wrapping both hands around the love and desire that Colin felt for me. A strangled cry rent the crisp, clean air and I smiled, licked my lips again, and tilted my head. My lips circled the swollen cap, sliding over his smooth, flushed skin as I savored his taste. My tongue followed, relearning every ridge and contour, and I could feel his pulse thrumming against the roof of my mouth. “Oh... God...” he groaned, pushing his hips forward and burying his hands in my hair. “God... Ryan... please...” It was what I had been waiting for and I started to obey, but something made me hesitate and I drew back for one brief second, meeting that dark, smoldering gaze. “I love you,” I said, my voice cracking with emotion. “Always.” Before he could respond, I drew him into my mouth again, taking him all the way to the back of my throat and letting my tongue slide over every velvet-wrapped inch of steel. He called my name as I took him and my heart nearly burst with love. My hand came down, caressing his thighs and playing with his sac before curving around the flesh I didn’t have in my mouth and gently pushing up. “Ryan!” There was so much emotion in his voice that tears came to my eyes, overwhelmed at the depth of feeling I heard as he gave himself to me. When the storm was over, I lifted my eyes and stared at my lover, my best friend, losing myself in the pure emotion I saw in his face. “I love you,” I finally whispered, my voice shaking slightly. His eyes met mine and he slowly smiled, taking my hands in his and pulling me out of the car until I was standing in front of him. He brought each hand to his lips and tenderly kissed the palms, looking at me as he did. His love was a tangible thing and I smiled, leaning forward until our foreheads were touching. Colin pulled one of my hands to his chest and settled it over his heart, his fingers entwined with mine. His other hand came to rest on my heart and I choked back tears as I covered it with mine. We stayed like that forever, sharing each other’s breath and listening to our heart beat. I meant to say that, too. That day, we were so close that we were literally two people sharing one heart. I’d never loved Colin more than in that moment and for a brief, bittersweet second, I realized that I’d found perfection. Then he stepped back and ran the hand resting over my heart up to my neck. His fingers carded through my hair and he kissed me deeply, wrapping his other arm around my waist and molding his body to mine. I moaned my approval into his mouth as our tongues twisted together and he smiled, slipping his hand to the front of my jeans and pulling them open. I moaned again and pushed my hips up, desire clouding my brain. Colin tore his lips away from mine and began to slide down, his breath hot even through my shirt. I hummed my approval and dropped my hands on his shoulders, squeezing tightly. His tongue skimmed over my belly button and trailed down, following the thin line of hair that bisected my lower abdomen and disappeared into the waistband of my briefs. I gasped with pleasure and pressed down harder on his shoulders, desperately trying to get him to quit teasing me. When I heard him laugh, I knew I was in trouble. Swallowing, I looked down and met his eyes, biting my lip when I saw his expression. He smirked at me and bent his head, running his tongue down the hardness still encased in my white Fruit of the Looms as he tugged my jeans over my hips and pushed them down. “Mmm... Colin...” It was all I could get out and he laughed again, replacing his tongue with his teeth and pulling my briefs off. His mouth immediately slipped over the unbearably sensitive skin of the crown and I gasped again, pushing my hips forward and tightening my hands. I was already close to the edge and the feeling of his mouth wrapped around me was pure heaven. Colin was working me hungrily, flicking his tongue out to taste my hot flesh and scraping his teeth along the rigid length he held so tenderly. I thrust carefully into his mouth, moaning with pleasure at how good it was. He hummed his approval and I could feel the vibration against my penis. The sensation drove the intensity up even further and my head fell back as I drew in several deep breaths. I was teetering on the edge and my fingers dug into his shoulders as my hips began moving faster. I was so close and he just kept going, doing things with his tongue that made sparks burst behind my eyes and sent me to the brink of ecstasy. And then I heard voices. * * * Colin You know, there’s nothing like a really good road trip to bring people closer together. Or set them at each other’s throats. Luckily for us, this trip was of the first variety, and we were having a blast. We really needed it too, after that whole rough patch with Ryan’s dad, that intolerant, bull-headed, self-righteous son of a--- Sorry. I still get a little upset when I think of what he put us through. I sure enjoyed telling him off when--- Getting ahead of myself. Anyway, the road trip. We’d needed a vacation ever since the day that pretty much everyone walked in on us backstage after that damn ravenous boa constrictor quirk. When things finally came to a head the day that I lost it with Drew and Ryan opened up to me, it released a lot of the pressure, but we were still both pretty stressed out. Every time Ryan made any mention of his father, I could see the unhappiness practically radiating from him. It was in the way he moved: small, measured, economical movements. All dry and brittle. His face was carefully, deliberately casual, but I could always read him without being fooled by that great poker face. And every time I saw that unhappiness, I wanted to track that self-righteous son of a bitch down and teach him a little lesson about hurting the ones I love. I’m normally a nice, shy, non-confrontational guy, but seeing Ryan miserable really pushes my buttons. It’s like the time that Chip jumped on his back and hurt him. I knew it was an accident, but when I saw the pain in his face, I wanted to rush forward and scream at Chip. I wanted to grab him and shake him until he got it through his head that hurting Ryan was very definitely not allowed. And that was nothing compared to how I felt when I saw the swelling and bruising in his lower back that evening. I rubbed it for him, very gently, but I was gritting my teeth and seething the whole time. Let me tell you, when people bruise skin that you’ve kissed, it really pisses you off. But I digress. The point is, we were both tired and worn out, and this long trip was just the thing we needed. Sometimes I do miss the old days, when it was just me and Ryan against the world. Don’t get me wrong, I love ‘Whose Line’ and the rest of the cast, but I miss being the dream team. We were the perfect pair. We’d get out on stage at Second City, or even in the earlier days of ‘Whose Line,’ and we’d just shut everyone else down. Our chemistry, the way we could read each other and build a scene quick and funny and make it look easy---it was magic. Now, of course, we can’t shut everyone else out. We’re an ensemble show. And it’s not just on the show. Our lives have expanded, grown to include a circle of close friends, a bigger circle of co-workers, and of course, families. Ryan is still the most important person in my life, but he’s not the only one who matters anymore. I have to think about a lot of people. But on that road trip, it was just about me and Ryan. No one else mattered. And that was the sweetest part of all. Ryan was getting into that mentality too. I could see it happening. He was getting calmer and more relaxed, and he was touching me more affectionately in public. That first night in the hotel room, when I started shouting something about how incredibly hot he was, he didn’t even shush me. Anyone could have been listening (and they probably were), but he didn’t care, because no one else mattered---there was only us. So I guess it’s not really that surprising that we forgot we were in public that time by the side of the car. We were both pretty giddy from the laughter by that little pond, and I was feeling particularly smug because I’d gotten to use my line about being a vodka martini. I’d been waiting for the right setup to use that joke forever. What started out as laughter and teasing quickly turned serious, and I was surprised by the depth of emotion that started coming out. When he took me in his mouth, I was literally overwhelmed. Not because he was good (which he was), and not because we were being daring and crazy by doing this in a public place (which we were), but because it was *Ryan* and I loved him so damn much that it scared me sometimes. That whole time when he was pulling away and trying to act like his father’s opinion didn’t bother him, I was so afraid of losing him. And I don’t think I knew how scared I was until that moment by the side of the road. When I realized just what I would have been losing. So when he stood up and kissed me, I touched him in a way that was almost reverential. I was still jangling from that mind-blowing orgasm he’d just given me, and maybe that was part of it, but... no. There was more. It wasn’t just physical, but then, it never has been with us. We’ve always been about more than just great sex. Maybe some part of my mind knew that we were not that far away from I-5, which is probably the biggest, busiest north-south interstate on the west coast, but that part was very small. Mostly I was thinking about Ryan. The taste of myself on his tongue, the coldness of his hands on my chest, the feel of his hair slipping silkily through my fingers. The air was cold, but I didn’t feel that. I have a kind of list in my mind of the best moments of our relationship. It’s the list I refer to whenever he gets on my nerves, or we have a fight. And yes, it happens. Although sometimes I think he deliberately provokes me just for the make-up sex... But that’s beside the point. There are certain moments in our shared life that stand out clearly in my memory, like lighthouses in the fog. One of them is the time that I walked in on him arguing with Dan, and our producer said all those harsh, cuttingly honest things to me. When Ryan found me crying in the dressing room and kissed the tears away, I thought I’d do anything for him. Another moment that comes to mind is the way that he made me feel better after I didn’t make it the first time on the show. With the simplest bunch of words, he somehow made me smile again. He made me stop feeling like a loser, and reminded me how lucky I was to have him in my life. Or, better yet, the first night we were together. That pivotal moment in the dressing room of that dingy little strip club; when he came up behind me and looked into my eyes in the mirror with that open, vulnerable look on his face. The same way he looked at me in the hotel room on our six-month anniversary, when I asked if it was okay to tie him up. The naked trust---and the love. There have been other moments, of course, but those stand out for me. Those, and that time by the side of that frozen pond. It was like saying goodbye in the airport before he went to Toronto and left me behind for those six awful months. Colors were brighter, sounds muted and faraway except for the shared sound of our breathing. Pivotal. I was kissing my way back down his chest and enjoying the hell out of teasing him when he whimpered pitifully. Grinning widely, I relented, pulling his briefs down and taking him in my mouth. The unrestrained sounds of approval coming to my ears made me smile and I took him a little deeper. He was close to the edge and I smiled again, gently urging him on and relishing in the freedom--- ---and then I heard the voices approaching. Thankfully, they were coming from the other side of the car, which meant that they couldn't see us. Yet. “Ryan! Clothes, quick!” I hissed, rising to my feet and tugging his underwear back into place before trying to pull up my jeans. They had been sitting around my ankles, and were partially soaked with wet snow. Pulling them up was... brisk and refreshing, to say the least. I could feel my balls trying to climb up into my belly. “What?” he mumbled dazedly, and it occurred to me that he was still hard as a rock and he wasn’t going to think clearly until he left that haze of arousal behind. The voices were getting closer, and I could hear a child’s excited chatter, asking if it would be okay to go play on the ice. Her father was telling her that he wasn’t sure, but I could hear the pleased indulgence in his voice, and I knew he would give in. And when she came out on the ice, she would get a full view of Ryan in his underwear, his shirt open and a noticeable bulge in his groin. I suddenly had a mental image of this girl looking at Ryan, turning to her father, and, with the innocence of a child, asking, “Daddy? Why does that man have a pole in his pants?” I couldn’t help but grin for a second before remembering that unless I did something to wake my lover up, hearing that question was a distinct possibility. I had to snap Ryan out of it, and I had to do it now. The white carpet beneath my feet gave me an idea and I looked at him apologetically before scooping up a handful of wet, slushy snow and sticking it down the front of his briefs. “Oh, holy shi---“ I clapped a hand across Ryan’s mouth before the family approaching us could get a firsthand lesson at just how inventive he could be at swearing. He was staring at me in confusion and more than a little anger, his eyes wide and his lips a flat line against my palm. His hands were frantically digging the snow out of his underwear, and he was dancing back and forth, taking in rapid, startled little sips of air. “I’m sorry Ry, but there’s people coming. Can’t you hear them?” I whispered hoarsely. His brow furrowed in confusion, and then I felt his jaw drop against my palm as he heard the happily chattering voices get closer. I cautiously took my hand away from his mouth so I could pull my shirt back down. My hands were freezing and wet, and my fingers didn’t want to work properly. “That was fucking cold,” he hissed indignantly, but he was pulling his jeans up with shaking hands as he spoke. I could see him shivering, and my first impulse was to pull him into my arms and warm him up the old fashioned way, but that wasn’t an option at the moment. “I know,” I replied. “I’ll make up for it later.” He tried to look mad at me, but I gave him my best puppy dog eyes and the irritation melted from his face. He smiled wryly as he refastened his jeans, and sighed in resignation. “It’s the old hotel room curse again,” he said, tossing a glance over his shoulder to indicate our soon-to-be-audience. I snorted, pulling on my jacket even as I nodded in agreement. Apparently our tendency to get interrupted had followed us on our vacation. The jacket was still warm from the last time I’d been wearing it, and unlike my jeans, it was dry. I shut my eyes briefly and snuggled into the material, hunching my shoulders and wrapping my arms around myself. “Is that warm?” Ryan asked wistfully, and I opened my eyes, giving him a guilty look. “It’s not my fault you didn’t want to unpack your jacket,” I said, but I was already pulling mine off to offer him. “No, but it *is* your fault that I’ve got a frozen penis,” he shot back, and I stopped, staring at him with wide eyes and a little half smile. He wiggled his eyebrows comically, and that was all it took. I slumped against him, laughing uncontrollably, and he quickly wrapped his arms around my back---under my jacket---and burrowed against me. His hands were freezing, and I yelped as they tried to get under my shirt and touch my relatively warm back. “You’re jumpy,” he said, giggling into my neck. His face was cold too, especially his lips, and I shivered, tilting my head against my shoulder and trying to avoid the icy touch. I guess that some part of my mind still knew that there were people coming, but we were fully dressed now, and still relaxed enough that a little public cuddling wasn’t an issue. After all, it wasn’t like they knew us. “Oh my God, Daddy, look, it’s Ryan and Colin!” We broke all known land speed records getting some air between us. The girl I had heard earlier was staring at us, her mouth hanging open and her eyes sparkling with what I can only describe as incredulous joy. She was about thirteen, or maybe a young fourteen. And apparently, she was a fan. Her father came around the front of the car, holding the hand of a small boy who I assumed was her brother. He looked to be about six, and he was wearing one blue mitten, a sweater, and purple snow pants. I blinked at them, and the question that rose crazily to my lips was: ‘Did you know that you’re missing a mitten?’ I bit it back before I could actually speak. Luckily for both of us, Ryan was a little more coherent. “Uh... hi.” Hey, I didn’t say a *lot* more coherent. The girl didn’t seem to notice our confusion. She was literally jumping up and down, which made her damp blond hair resemble the propellers on a helicopter, and I could see snowflakes resting on the shoulders of her jacket. I shook myself, wondering why the hell I was noticing everything. The day was very bright, the sun reflecting off the half-melted snow, and I suddenly wished for sunglasses. I needed something to hide behind. “It’s them, from the show, don’t you recognize them, Daddy? It’s them, it’s them, oh gosh, it’s Ryan and Colin!” She was giggling excitedly, looking at us with the rapt adoration that only a young girl with a crush can manage. Ryan and I exchanged a glance. Her father gave us a kind of sideways, uncertain look, and then a smile spread across his face. “She’s right, isn’t she? You’re those two fellows from that TV show.” “Yeah,” I said slowly, looking at Ryan again. For some reason, being recognized had torn apart the whole ‘nobody matters but us’ attitude that we’d been enjoying. I edged a little further away from him. The girl was looking at us, her eyes bright and avaricious, and I got the feeling that she had gotten a good look at us snuggling together with Ryan’s hands under my shirt and his face buried against my neck. “I wanna go, Daddy,” the little boy whined, wiping at his nose with his single mitten. He tugged at his father’s hand, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot in a motion that was unmistakable. “I gotta go, let’s go, tell Margrit to come onnnn...” “It’s Margaret, you little booger,” the girl said, not even bothering to shoot her brother a venomous glance. “Don’t call your brother a booger,” her father said automatically, looking distractedly at his son. The boy in question was now wiggling and tugging at the top of his pants, bending over slightly and pulling insistently at his father’s sleeve. Ryan and I watched the whole thing with a kind of dazed fascination. Would the father allow his obviously star struck daughter to speak to the strange men, or would he insist that they leave so her little brother could find the bathroom he so clearly needed? “Margaret, we have to go, Dylan needs to---“ “Tell him to wait! It’s Ryan and Colin, Daddy! I...” She suddenly turned shy, smiling up at us and toeing at the snow in front of her. “I want to get their autographs,” she said hopefully, shooting Ryan a quick, somewhat nervous look before focusing on me again. Fans tend to do that when they meet us up close. It’s for the same reason that I usually get picked first when audience members come down for ‘Moving People.’ To the uninitiated, Ryan is pretty damn intimidating when you see him in person. “Uh...” The father looked helplessly at us, clearly not wanting to deprive his daughter of her chance, but also not wanting to deal with the mess his son was sure to make if he waited much longer. “You know, there’s a gas station just over there,” Ryan said, pointing. We all turned to look, and sure enough, there was a gas station by the side of the road just about a hundred yards back. It was one of the big ones too, with the little food mart and the quickie burger place. We weren’t that far off the interstate, and gas stations were everywhere, but the father looked at that one like it was an oasis in a desert. “Oh good,” he said. “Come on, Margie, we’ll go and come back. They’ll still be here.” He looked at us uncertainly for a moment when he said that, wanting to ask us to stay, but thinking that it would be presuming too much. “You go,” she said stubbornly. “I’ll stay here with Ryan and Colin. I’ll be here when you get back.” She hadn’t taken her eyes off us for a second since she had first caught sight of us and I was beginning to feel a bit unnerved by that gimlet stare. Her father started to shake his head, but just then Dylan tugged more forcefully on his hand and whined again, pulling him in the direction of the gas station. The poor guy looked helplessly at us, and Ryan and I came to an agreement with a glance. “Go ahead,” I said calmly. Sometimes those acting skills really come in handy. “We were planning on staying here a while longer anyway.” He looked at us uncertainly, but now it was the questioning look of a father who is considering leaving his teenage daughter with two men by the side of the road. Ryan gave him a reassuring look, and then lied with a perfect smoothness. “I’ve got two of them myself. Kids can be quite a handful, can’t they?” The father nodded and grinned, looking relieved. “Well... normally I wouldn’t do this, but I do recognize you two from TV, and if it’s only for a few minutes...” “Daddeeee... come onnnnn,” the boy said, already walking toward the gas station. His father hesitated for another second, looking worried, and I gave him my best smile. He smiled back automatically and chased after his son, tossing us frequent glances over his shoulder. “You don’t have any kids,” Margaret said, and we both turned to look at her. She was staring up at Ryan, and while she was clearly a little intimidated by his size, her gaze never faltered. “You’re not even married.” “Um... yeah,” Ryan said weakly. “But hey, it made your dad feel better about things, didn’t it?” She nodded slowly, still looking back and forth at us. The smile that had never left her face seemed to grow, and she looked around as if she was checking for hidden listeners. “So... did you want an autograph?” I asked, trying to bring the encounter back to some semblance of normalcy. “Sure!” she chirped. “My online friends are going to be SO jealous when I tell them that I got to meet you. And they’re just going to love what you were doing.” Ryan gave me a meaningful look, and I stopped rifling through my pockets for a pen. “Uh... what were we doing?” I asked, keeping my voice carefully neutral. Her smile widened, showing enough teeth to qualify as predatory. “You were doing what the guys on my mom’s favorite show do. I knew it! I knew that you two were... like that.” Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Like what?” Margaret got shy again, shrugging and looking away briefly. She gave him a coy smile, and I realized with something like amusement that she was actually trying to *flirt* with him. I shook my head, trying not to laugh. “You know,” she said, waving a hand at us as if we were being purposely dense. “More than friends. Slashy.” Ryan raised his eyebrows. “Slashy?” he murmured to me. “Is that some slang I don’t know about?” “You remember those online stories I showed you?” I asked. Margaret’s eyes widened, and she giggled quickly; it was a bright, almost hysterical sound, and for some reason, that unnerved me more than anything else. Ryan looked at her distractedly, and then back to me. “You mean the stories about us being...” “Yeah,” I replied. “Those are called slash. That’s what she’s saying.” Ryan nodded slowly. “Oh,” he mumbled, giving Margaret a sidelong look. The autograph had been forgotten. “So... so you are?” she asked excitedly. “You’re really... together?” I looked at Ryan, and he looked at me, and I guess we were just tired of lying about it. We probably could have covered pretty easily---after all, she hadn’t really seen that much. But it was enough. We didn’t want to cover anymore. So I edged closer to Ryan, and he got closer to me, and we each wrapped an arm around the other’s waist. Margaret’s eyes got very big, and she brought her hands to her mouth, grinning widely. “Yeah, we’re together,” Ryan said conversationally. “But we’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.” “Ohmigod,” she said breathlessly. She was nodding quickly, her gaze darting back and forth between us. “I won’t, I promise, I won’t tell anyone, this is just SO cool...” She laughed giddily, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet in excitement. Just then, her father chose to make his reappearance, and a flash of undisguised relief crossed his face when he saw that his daughter was just as he had left her. Ryan and I automatically pulled apart again, and if Margaret’s father noticed how we had been standing, he didn’t show it. Personally, I thought he was pretty damn lucky, considering that he’d left her with two people he didn’t know. But television does that. It makes you feel close to people that you’ve never met. “Come on Margaret, we’re going to be late,” he said, tugging at her arm. She shook him off, still gazing at us raptly. He gave us another helpless, slightly embarrassed look, and we took the hint. “We’ve got to get going too,” Ryan said, pulling the car keys out of his pocket. “Yeah,” I added, zipping up my jacket. Margaret looked disappointed, but she allowed her father to lead her away. Ryan and I got into the car, and the man, whose name I never did get, paused by Ryan’s window and shook his hand. “Thanks. I, ah... sorry about all that...” “Don’t worry,” Ryan said calmly. “We’re always happy to meet a fan.” The guy nodded weakly, and then led his children away. I got the feeling that he was going to make sure they didn’t tell their mother that he had left Margaret in the care of a couple of middle aged men with melting snow on their pants. Speaking of which... “Still cold?” I asked, smiling at Ryan. He smirked at me, and patted his lap. “Want to take my temperature?” I laughed, curling close to him as we pulled back onto the interstate. He put an arm around me, and we just sat like that for a while, listening to the hum of our tires and putting that whole nerve-wracking encounter with the strangely intense girl behind us. Now I know why fan is short for fanatic. I shivered a little, and he pulled me closer, gently kissing my forehead. “So how long do you think she’ll wait before she tells all her friends about us?” I murmured into Ryan’s neck. “Not even a day,” he said, chuckling. “But who’s going to believe her?” I nodded. “Good point. Did you know she was trying to flirt with you?” Ryan shot me a sharp look, and then laughed, shaking his head. “You’re kidding me. What was she, about fourteen?” “If that,” I said, lightly rubbing his chest with my free hand. “That was pretty weird, wasn’t it?” Ryan just nodded, and I closed my eyes, settling more firmly against his side. We couldn’t ride like that for very long because the center console would start to hurt my back, but I enjoyed it while it lasted. And that night, I paid for the snow in his underwear. With interest. Anyway, the rest of the drive was fun, but we didn’t do anything else in a public place. We’d learned our lesson---even if we travel, our bad luck with being interrupted travels with us. And when we arrived in Toronto, we were quickly drawn into the chaos that is my family. It was hectic sometimes, and we had to steal the occasional moment away to ourselves, but for the most part we had a great time. Until Ryan’s parents showed up. Apparently my mother had taken it upon herself to reconcile Ryan with his father, and with that in mind, she’d tipped Ryan’s mother about our location and Lynn had somehow conned Hank into coming. Unfortunately, they arrived after dinner one evening, while we were all relaxing in the living room. Ryan and I had both had some wine with dinner, but we were glowing more with the ability to show our affection openly than with the alcohol. We were curled together on the couch, my head comfortably pillowed on his shoulder, his legs tangled with mine on the footrest, and our arms wrapped around each other. After a few odd glances the first time we had done this, my family had completely accepted our closeness, and we were reveling in it. Keeping things a secret might have its fun side, but that time with my family only confirmed to us that coming out would be better. Being able to touch and kiss Ryan whenever I wanted to, and knowing that the people I cared about accepted it---that was bliss. And then Hank Stiles came in and ruined it. The moment he saw us curled together on the couch he started shouting. At me, at his wife for tricking him into coming, at the general gay population of the world, but mostly at Ryan. My lover got angry and defensive at first, but Hank overrode him with the ease of long practice. Then Ryan just kind of sank into the couch, staring at his hands and clenching his jaw. Whenever Hank said something directed at me he’d snap back, but as long as the derisive comments were aimed at Ryan himself, he said nothing. I couldn’t just sit there silently and watch the man I loved take that kind of verbal abuse. Ryan never talked a whole lot about his childhood, but I was getting a pretty good picture of it that night, and I didn’t like what I saw. Lynn was only shaking her head and looking embarrassed, and my family had all left the room when it became clear that this was something between Ryan and his dad. “That’s enough!” I suddenly shouted, rising to my feet. Hank fell silent, goggling at me, and Ryan looked up at me in alarm. He’d never really seen me lose my temper before, and he tugged worriedly at my hand, trying to get me to calm down. “Would you excuse us, please?” I asked icily, keeping my eyes fixed on Hank. It took Ryan and his mother a moment to realize I was talking to them, and then Ryan shot to his feet beside me, shaking his head. “Colin, don’t, this is between me and him---“ “I’ve had enough of his shit,” I said, not bothering to lower my voice. Hank’s eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth to speak, but I put a hand out to silence him. I wasn’t surprised to see that my hand was shaking---I was shaking all over. My heartbeat was pounding in my ears and my vision was tinged with red. I don’t think I’d ever been so furious. Ryan moved a little closer to me, trying to catch my eyes with his own. “If he hurts you,” he began, his tone low and threatening, but I shook my head. “He’s hurting you. And I can’t allow that for one more second. Now go. I have some things I’d like to say to him.” “Come on, dear,” Lynn said, already walking toward the door. I got the feeling that she had seen this coming, and that she welcomed it. Maybe she knew something that I didn’t. Ryan fixed his father with a look that would have melted steel. “I love him, Dad. That’s final. And if you do anything---*anything*---to hurt him, I swear to God you’ll be sorry.” Then he kissed me fiercely, his breath rasping into my mouth and his hands clutching at my back. I was still angry as hell, but for some reason that only added to the heat between us, and I kissed him back with an almost animalistic intensity. Ryan pulled back and looked into my eyes for a long, breathless moment, then turned on his heel and stalked out. He didn’t favor his father with even a brief glance. Lynn followed him, giving me a look that I couldn’t read before she went. It might have been sympathy, or understanding, but there was a hardness to it that made me think she wasn’t too happy with the way my relationship with Ryan was tearing up her family. And then Hank and I were alone. I glared at him, my whole body shaking, and he lowered his head mulishly and squared his shoulders. The posture was amazingly reminiscent of Ryan’s own ‘stubborn’ mode, and I wondered briefly how it could look so adorable on Ryan and so irritating on his father. I guess love changes your perspective---like beer goggles, only permanent. “All right, you stubborn son of a bitch, you listen to me,” I snapped, and his head jerked up, his eyes widening in surprise. “I’m sick and tired of what you’re doing to Ryan. Do you have any idea how much your rejection is tearing him up? Do you know how much your approval means to him? Or are you so damn bent on being a stupid bigot that you can’t see what you’re doing to your own son?” “You little fucking fairy, you can’t talk to me that way,” he started, and I crossed the room quickly, shoving him back hard enough to make his teeth slam together. He stumbled slightly, but he was a hale and sturdy man, and he didn’t fall. “You want to say that again?” I asked quietly, keeping our faces only inches apart. He narrowed his eyes angrily, but he didn’t speak. “Good,” I said. “Stay quiet and listen. God only knows why, but Ryan loves you. You mean a lot to him, Hank... a *lot.* Much more than you realize. But you’re driving him away. If you hoped to split us up by making him choose between you and me, then you’ve failed. He chose me. And if you don’t stop this foolish bullshit, you’re going to lose him permanently. Is that what you want?” “I oughta kick your ass,” Hank said, but the words were automatic, lacking venom. He was staring at the floor, frowning deeply. “If I could get you to accept Ryan by letting you kick my ass, I’d gladly do it,” I returned tiredly. “I didn’t raise my son to be a fag,” he said abruptly, running a hand through his thinning white hair. He suddenly looked very old to me, and some of my anger evaporated, replaced with a kind of pity. “I know you didn’t,” I murmured. “You raised him to be a wonderful, caring, intelligent man. You raised him to be the man that I love more than anything in the world. I’d say you did a damn good job.” Hank looked at me, and I saw something on his face that was almost a smile. “I shoulda known when the other boys joined the Air Force and he joined a theater thing.” “That’s who he is, Hank. We can all only be who we are. No more and no less.” He nodded slowly, sagging against the wall. “You really must love him,” he said suddenly. “I mean, to risk standing up to me and getting the shit beat outta you.” I chose to let that one go by. I may not be the best fighter in the world, but I was in pretty good shape and I had an advantage in both height and reach, not to mention the fact that I was easily thirty years younger than him. Instead of denying the suggestion that Hank could’ve taken me, though, I simply said, “Yes, I love him. And I always will.” Hank snorted, shrugging his shoulders. “You know, all his brothers have been divorced at least once. At least I know he won’t be doing that.” I nodded, smiling at him, and I finally got a real smile in return. We weren’t exactly best friends, but it was a truce, and that was better than nothing. “Do you think you could tell Ryan that?” I asked, watching him carefully. For a long moment he didn’t answer, and I got a really good idea of where Ryan gets his stubborn streak. But then he finally sighed and nodded, staring at his hands. They were the thick, gnarled hands of a man who has worked hard all his life. I could understand how a man like that might not respect the kind of work that Ryan and I do. Lynn must have been hiding out and listening, or she had some kind of sixth sense, because she ushered Ryan into the room. His gaze went immediately to me, and his eyes narrowed when he saw how close I was standing to his father. I shot him a reassuring look and went to his side, taking his hand. He looked me over carefully, and I had to smile. “It’s okay, Ryan, he didn’t eat me alive or anything,” I said, squeezing his hand. Hank looked up briefly, and I saw that smile flicker again before his face closed impassively. “He better not have,” Ryan said, glaring at his father. “Easy, Ry,” I murmured, leaning a little closer to him. “Hank? You have anything you want to say here?” He looked at his son quickly before staring uncomfortably out the window at nothing. “I, ah... I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “What?” Ryan asked, his jaw dropping as his eyes widened. I got the feeling that those two words didn’t leave Hank Stiles’ lips very often. “You heard me,” Hank muttered, still staring out the window. “I, uh... I was wrong about him. I guess he’s all right. And if you want to be with him, well... then it’s okay with me.” Ryan was blinking slowly, and I could feel him shaking by my side. “You... really?” he asked weakly. “Yeah. Really,” Hank replied, and he finally met his son’s eyes. “And... maybe I don’t say this a lot, but... I’m proud of you. You’re a good boy.” The words seemed ridiculous when spoken to a huge man in his forties, but they worked wonders. Ryan’s lower lip began to tremble, and his eyes got very bright. I could see the liquid pooling in them, and I let go of his hand, gently nudging him toward his father. He took a stumbling step, and then another one, and then he was hugging the older man for all he was worth and crying on his shoulder. Hank looked surprised, but then he smiled and hugged Ryan back, closing his eyes. Lynn came up beside me and linked her arm with mine, letting her head rest against my shoulder. “You did good, Colin. I knew you were the right one for my boy the first time I saw you.” I looked at her sharply, wondering if she was referring to that time all those years ago when she walked in on us in the dressing room, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was smiling at her husband and her son, who were still hugging. They didn’t seem likely to stop anytime soon, and she tugged gently at my arm, leading me out of the room. I tossed one last glance back at the two men, and managed to catch Ryan’s eyes. They were wet, but very happy, and I smiled at him. He mouthed ‘love you’ at me, and then closed his eyes again. * * * Ryan I still don’t---I really didn’t understand just how much I loved Colin until that Christmas. When he got my dad to finally accept me for who I am, he gave me the one thing I’d craved my entire life: the sense of self-worth that you can only get from your parents. And, for the first time in my life, I felt complete. I had everything: Colin, my parents’ approval of my lover, and a career that I loved more than anything else---except Colin. Life was beyond good. Well, except for one thing---we still hadn’t come out. It was the only bad thing in our lives, since Colin had shaken my father awake (what I wouldn’t give to have seen that), and I found myself thinking more and more about ending the secrecy. As always, Colin was with me, and we began to seriously talk about it. It was a huge step, though, and even as badly as we wanted to be completely free, Col and I just couldn’t bring ourselves to burn that last bridge. So we kept playing around with it, taking our quirks and characters and scenes just beyond the limit of ‘good friends’ and wishing that we had the balls to go all the way. The others helped as much as they could, both onstage and off, but the lure of not having to hide couldn’t overcome our fear of rejection. We came so close, though. So many times, all it would have taken was one stage kiss or one hug that went a little too far. So many times... But we didn’t, and the only thing we really accomplished was pissing Dan off. And, honestly, that was one of the factors that kept us in the closet, such as it were. For some weird reason, Col and I both got a kick out of tweaking Dan’s nose. A lot of it was the fact that even after ten years, our producer still wouldn’t give Colin the time of day if he could avoid it---and having to pay the censor overtime because of our little tricks made him lose so much hair... Now that was fun. But. I digress. The plain truth is that Colin and I were just too afraid of the repercussions to come clean. Drew was remarkably patient during those seven months; if we started pushing the envelope, he’d start taking the suggestive ideas and letting the scene in question go on longer than normal. Of course, the looks he’d give us when we pulled back were nightmare-inspiring, but he never actually said anything. Until... until our ever-so-infamous ‘The Letter H.’ Man, I just---even though neither one of us was thinking, that game of “Scenes from a Hat” turned out to be the best thing we could have done. Oh, you haven’t seen it? Well, it’s simple. We were playing “Scenes from a Hat” and one of the suggestions was ‘If the birds and the bees were explained on Sesame Street.’ Wayne immediately stepped out and did his, and then Kathy (who still wasn’t speaking to me unless she had no choice) pulled Wayne and Colin out there and did something about ‘one of these things not belonging.’ And then, I got an idea. Colin came back to my side, still grinning at the innuendo Kathy had come up with. I flashed him a bright smile before taking his hand and pulling him down to the center with me. As I tugged him in front of me, he shot me a questioning look, but when I gently pushed on his shoulders, understanding flared in his eyes and he let me put him where I wanted him. Seeing him bent over like that sent all the blood in my head rushing south (big surprise there) and I had to force myself to finish the scene. Drew lost it completely at the expression on Colin’s face, as did Wayne, and even Kathy giggled. Colin, of course, turned red with embarrassment as he straightened, and he shot me a look that promised retribution for that little stunt. It was enough to clear the cotton from my brain and we finished the game like nothing had happened. Colin couldn't resist referring to my, uh, ‘idea,’ though. When the suggestion of 'bad things to say before you kiss her' came out of the hat, Colin leaned over like he was going to kiss Kathy---a sight guaranteed to make my narrow my eyes with jealousy---and told her, “I was once a part of the letter H.” Well, the crowd loved it, I loved it, and Kathy turned away with an expression of disgust that she didn't have to fake. Too bad for her, I thought with absolutely no sympathy. That's *my* Colin she has designs on, and as long as she keeps after him, I'm not going to have too many warm and fuzzies about her. Colin loves to get a laugh, and he wasn't about to leave that ‘Letter H’ thing alone. He brought it up again in his Hoedown, saying that he got kicked off the police force for 'making an H with Ryan.' I was laughing so hard I could barely pull it together to do my verse. Some days, Colin has all the best lines. Not, mind, that I cared. By that point, I operating solely on instinct, and the second we got off the stage, I corralled my lover and pulled him into my dressing room. Drew and Wayne saw the way I was tugging at him and smiled at each other knowingly before smirking at me. I only dropped them a wink before firmly shutting the door. God, I loved not having to hide things around the cast anymore. Then I was confronted with an armful of warm Colin, and my thought processes went south again. He kissed the side of my neck, in that sensitive place just below my ear, and I shivered, stepping forward and pinning him against the wall. I could feel him smiling against my throat, and he laughed softly before running his tongue down my throat. “What's gotten into you?” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. As if he didn't know. “I'm more interested in what's going to get into you,” I growled, and he laughed again. “Easy, Big Bird,” he said. “This is only a ten-minute break.” “I can do it in five,” I retorted, tugging his zipper down and wrapping my hand around him. He gasped and buried his head in my shoulder, pressing his whole body against mine and pushing his hips up. His hands fumbled with my shirt, but I pulled away and gently grabbed his wrists. He shot me a surprised look and tried to free himself, but my grip was too tight. “Ry... what---?” I cut him off by leaning down and tenderly catching his upper lip in my teeth, fighting a smile at the groan he rewarded me with. “Shh,” I whispered against his lips, stepping to the side and bringing him with me. “This time, it’s my turn,” I continued as I pressed him against the wall and raised his arms above his head, still keeping his wrists pinned together. His eyes darkened with confusion, but when I pulled one hand away and started working on his shirt, he smiled ruefully and nodded his understanding. In the back of my mind, this little clock was running, telling me how much time we had left. Memories of the last time we’d done this, that day when everyone had walked in on us, spiraled through my mind and I straightened, kissing him fiercely as I undressed him. He responded with an ardent passion that made my brain fog up and I felt myself getting lightheaded. Reluctantly, I broke away, freeing his hands and sinking to my knees, pushing his trousers and briefs down as I went. Colin laughed softly and braced his hands on my shoulders, pulling me closer until my cheek was resting against his inner thigh---which gave me an up close and personal view of the results from ‘The Letter H.’ I was enjoying the... ahem... scenery when the clock in my head suddenly chimed, reminding me that we didn’t have all day, and I smiled up at Colin before bending my head and parting my lips. I had just started to take him when the door was thrown open. “What the hell!?” I heard a very familiar voice exclaim. My heart sank as I recognized Dan Patterson’s prissy British tones and I closed my eyes. “Fuck,” I whispered against Colin’s skin, ducking my head in an automatic attempt to hide him from our audience. With shaking hands, I grabbed the top of his pants and pulled them up; as soon as they were in reach, Colin took over and quickly set himself to rights, his hands trembling as much as mine were. Only when he was presentable did I shift back and get to my feet, catching Colin’s hand in mine and squeezing it tightly. “Dan,” I greeted our producer, forcing a smile. “What did you need?” It was a completely ridiculous question and we all knew it; Dan’s face was already red and my nonchalant tone of voice darkened the color to nearly purple. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth; Colin and I flinched in an automatic reaction, but when nothing came out, we both had to fight back grins. Then Dan spluttered something incoherent and stalked out of the room, leaving the door open as he went, and all of the humor went with him. Colin started shaking and I frowned, wrapping my arms around him and holding him tightly against me. “Shh,” I murmured against the top of his head, forcing my voice to stay calm. “It’s okay, Col.” “It’s not okay!” he cried, pushing away from me. He started tugging furiously at his clothes, re-tucking his shirt and smoothing away imaginary wrinkles. “He’s the producer, Ryan, and he’s never liked either of us. We’re screwed.” The bitter resignation in my lover’s voice was like a bucket of cold water being dumped on my head and my lips tightened angrily. I knew that Colin was right and the unfairness of it brought an acidic taste to my mouth. There wasn’t anything I could say that would help, so I hugged Colin tightly, wistfully hoping that my embrace could hold off the inevitable. “Hey, uh---guys?” Drew suddenly called, his voice hesitant. With a sigh, I released my lover and turned. “Come on in, Drew,” I said, pitching my voice so that it would carry into the hall. “I hate to, uh, interrupt, bu---what happened?” he demanded, looking from me to Colin and back to me again. “Dan,” I replied shortly, putting a hand on Colin’s arm and bringing him back to my side. “Shit,” Drew said eloquently, his eyebrows shooting up. “What’d he say?” “Nothing,” I answered bitterly. “Well, nothing that we understood. He’s pissed, though, and there isn’t a thing we can do.” “There is one thing,” my lover suddenly said, looking up for the first time since Dan had had walked in. Surprised, I craned my neck until I could see Colin’s eyes. He met my gaze easily, his face full of love, and I caught my breath as I realized where he was going with this. Drew didn’t and his frustration over his inability to read our minds showed his in next question. “What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded in aggravation. We both ignored him as we watched each other, silently working everything out. Colin arched his eyebrows questioningly and I bit my upper lip in consternation before taking a deep breath and nodding. A wide smile broke across my lover’s face and he took my hand, squeezing it gently before stepping in front of me and pressing his back to my chest. “Let’s do it, Drew,” he said firmly, his eyes never leaving Drew’s. “If we come out now, Dan can’t keep this quiet---or push us out.” “Do I look like I’m arguing?” Drew shot back, grinning. “It’s about damn time!” “Do we look like we’re arguing?” I asked rhetorically, smiling down at Colin. He returned it and curved a hand around my neck, bringing my lips down to his. I was vaguely aware that Drew had turned around and was making a show out of checking his watch, and laughed softly into my lover’s mouth. With an answering chuckle, he broke the kiss and said, “Okay, Drew, you can look now.” “Thanks,” he said sarcastically as he turned back to face us. “So how do you want to do this?” “Umm...” “Well...” Neither of us could come up with anything and our boss sighed impatiently, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Nice to see you’ve been planning this,” he told us. “Well, we weren’t exactly expecting Dan to come in, okay?” I said defensively. “And why don’t we use ‘Narrate?’ It’s an ‘us’ game, if you will, and it won’t be hard to stretch the scene out.” Drew nodded slowly, his eyes darkening as he thought. Colin suddenly tugged on my hand and I looked down, wondering what he wanted. Another tug was his only answer and I shrugged, letting him pull me to the other side of the room. “Are you sure?” he asked softly once we were more-or-less alone. “This is it, Ry. There’s no going back if we do this.” I stopped the flippant remark that immediately sprang to my lips and looked away, chewing nervously on my lip. Colin was right---this was a huge step. I was scared to death and I’ll freely admit it... but the realization that we wouldn’t have to hide anymore was rapidly overcoming my fear. I looked back to my lover and smiled, dropping my forehead down until it was resting against his. “Yes, I’m sure,” I said quietly, my voice full of conviction. “I want everyone to know how much I love you.” Colin released a shuddering breath and whispered, “Me, too.” Then he kissed me, long and slow, and I forgot everything but the sweet touch of his lips. We were drowning in each other when Drew cleared his throat. Loudly. Normally, we would’ve jumped apart and tried not to look sheepish, but I didn’t give two hoots in hell anymore, and I don’t think Colin did, either. We shared one last, tender kiss before pulling apart and looking at Drew, who chuckled and said, “Look out, ‘Friends.’ ‘Whose Line’ is in the building.” Colin smirked at him and I simply shook my head in amusement before taking my best friend and lover’s hand and heading for the door. “Hey---” Drew suddenly started, stopping us both mid-step. We turned and looked at him, cocking our heads curiously. He blinked twice and said, “I wish to hell that you wouldn’t do that! It’s weird.” In perfect mental agreement, we grinned at him. Drew blinked again and laughed, but he quickly sobered up. “I really am happy for you guys,” he told us, his voice serious. “I just---I want you to know that.” “Thanks, Drew,” Colin murmured in reply, giving our friend a warm smile. I was too choked up to talk, so I just held out my hand. Without hesitation, Drew grasped it, and we stood like that for a long minute before he shook himself and said, “Hey, we gotta go.” “Yeah,” Colin agreed, stepping back to let him out the door. He started to follow, but I pulled him back, kissed him quickly, and asked, “Are doctors still going to have a new way to do a tonsillectomy?” He grinned in response and said, “Oh, yeah---and a whole new meaning for ‘tongue depressor.’” Oh, this was going to be interesting. * * * Colin As we walked back out toward the stage, I could feel myself shaking. The whole thing had happened so *fast!* We’re coming out, I kept thinking. Over and over, it circled in my mind until it was almost a mantra. We’re coming out, we’re coming out; oh my God, we’re coming out. I could hear the sound of the crowd swelling as we got closer, and I looked around nervously, wondering if Dan was going to catch us and stop us before we got on stage. I wouldn’t put it past him. There was something cold and fluttery in my stomach, and I could feel my heart pounding. Then I looked at Ryan, and he smiled at me, which helped. He was sure. He wanted the world to know how we felt about each other. The panicky flutter in my stomach quieted slightly, and I somehow refrained from putting an arm around his waist. You’ll be able to touch him however you want on stage after this, a whispering mental voice told me, and I smiled giddily. I never know what I’m going to say before we get out on stage, but usually that doesn’t scare me. It is improv, after all. But today... today I was terrified. I loved ‘Whose Line,’ and if this didn’t go well, it might be my last time on that familiar set. “It’ll be okay,” Ryan whispered, and I shot him a grateful look. Trust my lover to know I was scared and say the right thing. “I love you,” I whispered back, squeezing his hand briefly. Drew rolled his eyes and looked away, shaking his head. “You two are enough to send a guy into sugar shock,” he grumbled, but he was smiling nonetheless. I saw the look in Ryan’s eye, and I knew some smartass comeback had just sprung to his lips, but he didn’t have time to say it. We were stepping out on stage, and the crowd’s low level chatter picked up considerable volume as they saw the three of us. Wayne and Kathy were already in their chairs, and I took a moment to wish that Greg had been the fourth-seater today. I would’ve liked to see the look on his face when he realized we were coming out. The panicky bird in my stomach took off again at that thought, and the mantra began circling in my mind. We’re coming out, we’re coming out. The crowd seemed too close, and for a moment I had the crazy thought that they were going to eat us up. Just climb onto the stage and grab us and... and eat us up. I shuddered, and Ryan patted my back gently as we sat down, leaving his hand on my shoulder for a long moment. “Okay?” he murmured, cupping his other hand over his microphone so his question wouldn’t be amplified. “I’m scared,” I whispered, somehow keeping a smile on my face and waving at the fans. I didn’t remember to cover my mike, but luckily the audience was loud and my words were soft, so they weren’t picked up. I think. “Don’t be. We can do this, Colin.” I smiled wanly at him, and then Drew caught my eye. He was waving at both of us and giving us a rather pointed look. I raised my eyebrows questioningly, and he patted his shoulder. I didn’t understand what he meant until Ryan pulled his hand away from my shoulder. We shared a rueful look, and that voice spoke up in my mind again. No more hiding. Not after today. You can do this. I nodded to myself, trying like hell to believe that little voice. Sure, we could do this. Just throw something so suggestive into a game that it would make our relationship obvious. We’d been skating closer and closer to that edge for years. Jumping over it shouldn’t be hard at all. Ryan looked calm and confident, but his leg was jiggling a little faster than usual, and he was spinning his silver and jade ring on his finger. The ring I gave him for our ten year anniversary. I smiled a little when I saw it, and I looked down at the silver bracelet that still adorned my wrist. Whatever happens today, I’ll still have Ryan, I reminded myself. “Welcome back to ‘Whose Line is it Anyway,’ Drew said suddenly, drawing my attention. We were back from the break, and Drew was telling one of his ‘the points don’t matter, just like...’ jokes. I didn’t hear it at all, but I laughed politely along with everyone else when he finished it. His voice was a kind of distant drone. I could hear the crowd, and I could hear Ryan chuckling beside me, and I could hear my own breathing rasping in my throat. It seemed louder than anything else. “Now we’re going to do a game called ‘Narrate,’” Drew said, giving Ryan and I a pointed look. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Wayne’s puzzled frown, and I knew he had realized that the game wasn’t on the planned lineup. Ryan rose to his feet, and so did I. For a moment, I actually wasn’t sure if my legs would support me, but they worked just like they always have. I guess to anyone watching, I would have looked calm. Looks can be deceiving. Drew was explaining the game, and as Ryan and I stood there and waited for him to turn things over to us, my lover stepped a little closer. His hands were dangling at his sides, as were mine, in a kind of deliberate, forced casualness. He let the side of his hand brush ever so lightly against mine, and the warm contact sent a sudden, breathless tingle through my body. Something told me that when this was all over, no matter how it went, we were going to make some incredible love in the closest available private space. Even if it was a damn storage closet. We didn’t look at each other. It was better that way---safer. “So,” Drew said, turning to face the audience, his pencil already cradled in his left hand as he prepared to write down their suggestions. “Where should this film noir scene be set?” There were several shouted ideas, ranging from a deli to a liquor store, but Drew suddenly turned back to his desk and called out, “Bedroom! Okay, bedroom.” He wrote it down on one of his cards, and I felt a smile tugging at my lips. I was pretty sure no one in the crowd had actually shouted ‘bedroom.’ Drew was just giving us an easy setup. Even though they hadn’t suggested it, the crowd *loved* the idea of Ryan and I doing the scene in a bedroom, judging by the way they were cheering. Ryan and I looked at each other steadily for a moment, and then he turned to face the cameras. I took a step back and began to mime removing my clothes, moving with a deliberate slowness to match the film noir music being played over the sound system. “It took a long time, but we finally made it to that hotel room,” Ryan said, keeping his voice low and serious. “I knew he had something he wanted to show me, and I wasn’t going to leave without seeing it.” He turned to me and put a hand on my shoulder. I looked at it, and then looked back up at him and let the tip of my tongue skate visibly along my upper lip. I was aware of the crowd screaming their approval, but it was a distant thing. Ryan was what mattered. “So,” he said, tightening his fingers slightly. “What did you want to show me, Colin?” “In good time, my friend. In good time.” I turned to face the crowd, and they suddenly laughed. I glanced back at Ryan and saw that he was making a show of appreciating my backside, nodding and looking enthralled. He wiggled his eyebrows and made a frame with his hands, leaning back slightly to get a better view. Not to be outdone, I bent and arched my back, pulling the material of my dress pants tight against my ass. I was still looking back over my shoulder, so I got a full view of the way his eyes widened, and the hungry way he licked his lips. The crowd was going nuts, and it took a few seconds for them to calm down enough for me to speak. “I had been waiting for this for years,” I said, thinking wryly that I was only telling the truth. “Finally, I was going to tell my best friend how I really felt about him.” When I turned back to Ryan, he ducked his head and acted embarrassed, like I had caught him looking at my ass. I only smiled and took one of his hands, pressing the big palm against my chest, over my heart. “This is what I wanted to show you, Ryan. You’ve been my best friend for over twenty years. I’m crazy about you. I... I love you.” Ryan’s expression softened in a way that I knew wasn’t an act, and his lips parted slightly. “You do? Really?” he asked hesitantly, almost whispering, his voice thick. Then, before I could answer, he turned back to the crowd, still playing the game. “He told me he loved me. Well, I wasn’t expecting that, but I was glad he said it. I wanted to tell him that I felt the same way, but I’ve never been good with words. Besides, I’ve always heard that actions speak louder.” I knew what he was going to do before he even started to turn back to me, and I swallowed. I had to remind myself to keep breathing---each inhale was a conscious act, deliberate and measured. I was still shaking all over, and I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. Pivotal, I thought crazily. This moment is pivotal. Ryan took a swift, assertive step toward me, his hand coming up to cup the back of my neck. His other hand gently traced my features, his fingertips trailing along my cheekbone and tucking my hair behind my ear. He stared down at me with an almost greedy intensity and leaned very close, so that our lips were less than an inch apart. “Mine,” he whispered fiercely, loud enough for the microphones to pick it up. I was dimly aware that the crowd had grown quiet. They all seemed to lean forward in their seats at once, and it made me feel like the ground was moving beneath my feet. Or maybe that was just the effect that Ryan has on me. Then he kissed me in a way that we had never even gotten close to on stage before. His mouth was open, tasting me in hard, rapid touches, his breathing rough and quick. I kissed him back, wrapping my own arms around his waist and pulling him closer. Ryan’s hand curled around the small of my back, and he shifted so that my leg fell in between his. I tilted my head back, and he started kissing my neck as he ground his groin into my thigh. I could feel the hardness there, mirroring my own, and an idea suddenly struck me. I pulled away from him---with considerable difficulty, because he didn’t want to let me go---and turned to face the audience again. I glanced down at my groin and was both relieved and disappointed to see that my erection wasn’t very visible. Anyone not in the front row probably wouldn’t know the difference, although my little check would have given everyone a pretty good idea of what I was looking for. “Wow,” I said dazedly. I grinned crazily at the audience for a few minutes as they laughed hysterically, and then I made a big show of putting my hands in my pockets and checking the crotch of my pants again. That only made them laugh harder, and I could even hear Ryan chuckling behind me. There’s no way they can misinterpret this one, I thought giddily. “Um... I think... excuse me for a minute,” I stuttered, exaggerating my reaction to Ryan’s kisses, but only slightly. Then I turned back to him, grabbed his head in both hands, and kissed him like he was the love of my life. Not hard to do, since he was. He responded immediately, one hand coming around to the front of my pants and stroking me through the thin fabric. I moaned loud enough for the microphones to pick up and pressed up into his palm, my eyes falling shut. He kissed my neck again, and then he pulled me against his chest, hugging me tightly and turning toward the crowd in one fluid motion. “I think that was a yes,” Ryan quipped dryly. I could feel him trembling in my arms, and his breathing was quick against the side of my head, but his voice came out perfectly smooth. “Now, if you would excuse us, Colin and I have some things to talk about. And I don’t think we’ll be using words.” With that, he began pulling me off the stage. Drew was laughing so hard he almost couldn’t hit the damn buzzer and I wondered if he expected us to go back to our chairs. I certainly hoped not, since the rail spike in my pants wasn’t going to go down on its own any time soon. That was when I saw Dan. He looked absolutely *livid,* and he was waving his hands at the camera crew. “That’s enough,” he yelled over the sound of the crowd’s hysterics. They only cheered harder, and I thought dizzily that Ryan and I should have pulled this little stunt during that game of scenes from a hat when the suggestion of ‘Announcements that will make this audience go wild’ had been pulled. They were certainly going wild. “Cut!” Dan yelled furiously, and I saw all the little indicator lights on the cameras go out. Our producer whirled and glared at both of us. We were still standing on the side of the stage, next to the piano, and Ryan still had his arms wrapped around me. I glared right back at Dan, and then I kissed Ryan’s neck deliberately. So there, I thought. Just try and stop us, you prick. Just try. “You two,” he hissed, walking toward us. “In my office. Now.” Ryan and I exchanged a nervous look, and he squeezed me a little tighter for a moment before reluctantly letting me go. We followed Dan while the crowd made their disapproval known rather volubly. Dan ignored them, but I shot them my best puppy dog eyes. Ryan and I got a big, sympathetic ‘awwww,’ and then we were off the stage and trailing Dan down the hall. He shut the door behind us as we entered his office, and then started pacing back and forth. Ryan and I stood together by the door, watching him. I felt Ryan’s hand fumbling for mine, and I took it, squeezing hard. My lover was shaking, and I knew that his façade of calm confidence was paper-thin. “What the... you two... you can’t... this is a family show, dammit!” Dan sputtered, wheeling to face us. His eyes were immediately drawn to our joined hands, and his face got even redder, if that was possible. “So censor it,” Ryan retorted, stubbornly refusing to let go of my hand. “And what am I supposed to do about the three hundred people who just saw that disgusting little floor show?” I gritted my teeth, drawing myself up to my full height. “First of all, in case you didn’t notice, they *loved* it! I bet if you quit being such a damn prude and aired that game, we’d get our best ratings ever. Sex sells, Dan. Face it.” Dan threw his hands up in the air, his eyes widening. “So you’re telling me that shit was an act? You did it to boost ratings?” “No!” Ryan and I said together. I glanced at him, and nodded slightly, letting him speak for both of us. “It wasn’t an act,” Ryan snapped through clenched teeth. “Colin and I are lovers, or didn’t you figure that out when you walked in on us today? Which, by the way, I still have to ‘thank’ you for,” he added in a distinctly threatening tone of voice. Dan didn’t back down. “Great. That’s just bloody great,” he growled sarcastically. “And how long has *that* been going on?” “Not that it’s any of your business,” I grated, “but it’s been over twenty years.” Dan shook his head, running a hand through his thinning hair. “No wonder the fans all think you’re gay,” he muttered. “I should’ve listened to them.” “Well, if you *were* listening to the fans, you’d know that they *want* us to be a couple!” Ryan snapped, his voice rising quickly. “Didn’t you see the reaction we got out there? They were going nuts!” “They thought you were just joking,” Dan replied stubbornly. “They did not,” I retorted hotly. “What we did out there didn’t leave any room for interpretation. But if you like, we can go and make a formal announcement, and see how they react to that...” “No!” Dan snapped, holding a hand up, palm out. “I think we can do very nicely without that, thank you. What the hell were you two thinking?” Ryan looked at me, and I looked back at him. Finally, he sighed and turned back to Dan, frowning thoughtfully. “It’s like this,” Ryan began. “Today, when you... you know, interrupted us, we thought...” “We thought you might try and kick us off the show,” I finished. “So we decided to come out publicly before you could do anything.” Dan shook his head. “Just like that? You decide to change your whole lives just like that?” “We’ve been planning it for a while,” I said defensively. “We knew we were going to come out eventually; you just... accelerated things a little. But you know what? I’m glad we did it. I’m glad we’re out.” Ryan nodded, and then lifted his chin defiantly and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close. I felt a flash of heat race through my body when our hips touched, reminding me that despite the tense conversation with Dan I was still incredibly turned on. The way my lover’s breath caught in his throat told me that he was feeling the same way, and I smiled up at him for a moment, putting enough promise in my eyes to make him swallow and lick his lips. “Great,” Dan muttered, shaking his head. “And now what are you going to do?” Ryan raised his eyebrows. “We’re going to keep doing what we’ve always done, of course. We’re going to stay together---you don’t have any say in that, by the way. Nobody does. Me and Colin---that’s not negotiable.” He leaned over and kissed my temple, and Dan looked away uncomfortably. “I meant what are you going to do on the show,” he said, watching us warily in case we showed any signs of getting affectionate again. “Well, that part you do have a say in,” I replied. “But I should warn you, if you try to kick us off because we’re gay, we will sue your ass so fast you’ll think you’re a fucking tobacco company.” Dan gaped at me for a moment, and it occurred to me that I’d never really stood up to him before. I smiled smugly, and I felt Ryan’s chest shake as he laughed silently beside me. “The ball is in your court,” Ryan added. I could hear the tinge of amusement in his voice and I grinned, enjoying the hell out of making Dan so uncomfortable. “Are you going to fight this, or are you going to accept it?” Ryan asked with an air of finality. Dan just stared at us, looking back and forth like a spectator at a tennis match. I felt my stomach tighten nervously as I watched him think. I may have sounded confident with my remark about suing him, but I really wasn’t sure if we had a legal leg to stand on. Ryan and I had a certain amount of power because of our solid fan base, but we weren’t irreplaceable. And if Dan really pushed, he could find an excuse to kick us off the show without even touching the whole gay issue. I could feel Ryan tense beside me, and I leaned into him automatically, taking and giving reassurance at the same time. At least it was fun while it lasted, I thought. If we were going to be kicked off the show, at least we’d had a lot of good years to enjoy it. It won’t be so bad, I told myself. Sure it won’t. I wasn’t convincing anyone, especially not myself. So I quit trying to pretend I would be okay with it if Dan fired us, and just hoped like hell that he wouldn’t. I think Ryan was actually holding his breath. I was aware of my heartbeat thudding in my ears, and Ryan’s trembling felt like it was getting worse. Then Dan nodded once, looked at us levelly, and spoke. * * * Ryan God, I love being right. Colin kept his promise to give doctors a new way to do a tonsillectomy and, since it wasn’t fair to let Col have all the fun, I invented a whole new definition for tongue depressor. Then we started making out onstage and some part of my mind realized that that wasn’t the smartest thing to do; unfortunately, my hands weren’t listening. Luckily, Colin had more willpower than I did and pulled away, giving both of us a few seconds to breathe. Somehow, I managed to clear the cotton from my brain and looked at the audience. They were on their feet, screaming and cheering and applauding, and I smiled slightly before wryly telling them, “I think that was a yes.” Then I paused for another second or so, letting the tension build, and said, “Now, if you would excuse us, Colin and I have some things to talk about. And I don’t think we’ll be using words.” With that, I pulled him off to the side of the stage, keeping one hand firmly wrapped around his arm. As we paused by the piano, I caught sight of Dan. He was... pissed, if the way he was waving his arms and yelling at his techs to ‘Cut!’ was any indication. I swallowed hard when the indicator lights went out; it was obvious that Dan wasn’t going to wait until the taping was over. Then he glared at the two of us and snapped, “You two! In my office. Now.” Colin started trembling and I frowned in concern before gently tugging on his arm, asking him to follow me. He did, rallying enough to give the audience his famous ‘puppy dog’ eyes and earning us a huge ‘awww.’ I couldn’t help but grin and lovingly squeezed his arm. He stepped a little closer to me and we slowly made our way off the stage. Just before we left completely, I turned my head and looked directly at Drew, who was watching us with worry etched all over his face. Our eyes met and I jerked my head slightly in an unmistakable ‘come with us’ gesture. Well, Drew isn’t an ex-Marine for nothing; he understood that what I was actually telling him was ‘wait by the door in case we need backup.’ As I watched, he nodded quickly before looking at Wayne. About three seconds later, his eyes met mine again and he nodded again, firmly. Secure in the knowledge that we had support if we needed it, I relaxed a little and picked up my pace. Something told me that the scene in Dan’s office was going to be ugly and I just wanted to get it over with. Well, as it happened, the, uh---confrontation---didn’t go nearly as bad as I’d feared---mainly due, I think, to the fact that Colin threatened to sue our producer into the middle of next week and leave his ass there. I don’t know whether or not that was true, but it had the desired effect: Dan shut up for a minute. “The ball is in your court,” I told him, unable to keep the smugness out of my voice. “Are you going to fight this, or are you going to accept it?” Our producer just stared at us with wide, shocked eyes. With a supreme amount of willpower, I curbed my amusement by tensing my body, and watched him, smiling slightly when Colin leaned into me, his arm curving around my waist. My smile widened as I looked at my lover, cherishing this new closeness. “Fine,” Dan suddenly said, interrupting our moment. “I can’t throw you off---that’d be network suicide. You’re the most popular players; God only knows why. ‘Captain Hair’ and the Neon Love Chicken,” he added bitterly, shooting Colin a contemptuous look. I instantly stiffened, my eyes narrowing with anger. I had had enough of Dan’s attitude and he had finally pushed me over the edge of tolerance. “You bastard,” I snarled, pulling away from my lover and taking a threatening step toward my producer, my eyes never leaving his. “No, Ry,” Colin said firmly, clamping onto my arm and holding me back. “Don’t hit him.” “Why the hell not!?” I demanded incredulously, breaking my own intense stare to look at him. I was dimly aware that Dan was gaping at Colin with disbelief written all over his face. “Because I’m going to,” my lover replied calmly. And before anybody could process that, he released me, stepped forward, and hit Dan so hard that he had to have knocked a few teeth loose. The way Dan’s hand immediately clutched at his jaw made me wonder if Colin hadn’t actually broken the damn thing. I couldn’t help but wince, but when Colin stepped back into my embrace and slumped against my chest, carefully shaking his left hand, I burst out laughing. See, for all that Colin has a very even temper and is very non-confrontational, when he hits his limit, oceans part and mountains move until he’s satisfied. I remember one time, back when we still doing stand-up, when this guy in the audience kept... picking... at me. It wasn’t anything overt, but something about that man just got on my lover’s nerves. For me, it was annoying, but it didn’t even come close to some of the stuff I’d heard while I was working in strip clubs, and I shrugged it off. But Colin just kept getting more and more annoyed, and I couldn’t get him to calm down. Then the guy popped off some comment about my huge beak of a nose and Colin lost it. He jumped off the stage, stalked over to my heckler, and grabbed one of the empty beer cans on the table. I almost felt sorry for the guy, actually, because Colin looked him dead in the eyes, gave him this big, shark-like smile, and crushed that can right in the middle of the man’s wide forehead. It didn’t do any permanent damage, but I know it hurt like hell. And without saying a word, Colin walked back to the stage, climbed the stairs, and came back to my side. I was gaping at him, but when he flashed me that devil-may-care grin of his, I gave in and laughed, and we kept going. “You just fucked up, Colin,” Dan suddenly spat out, cradling his jaw as he slowly sat up. Something in his voice caught my attention and my amusement faded as he carefully got to his feet and glared at my lover; his eyes were shooting venomous sparks and my eyes narrowed as I put myself between them. “That was assault and if you think I won’t have you arrested, you’re mistaken.” “You’ll have a hard time selling that without any proof or witnesses, Dan,” Drew suddenly said from behind us. His voice was full of scorn and I turned to look at him, grinning. “And I can promise,” Wayne added from beside him, “that no one in this studio will believe that Colin hit you---and even if they do, they’ll all agree that you had it coming.” Dan’s eyes went wide with shock and he looked between the four of us with increasing disbelief, growing paler by the second. He found no sympathy and swallowed hard as he realized that he’d just screwed himself over. Completely. “Fine,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Just get out. All of you.” Nobody moved until Drew sighed heavily, went to the door, and flagged down one of the cameramen. “Hey, would you bring Dan an ice pack?” he asked, carefully shielding the room from the other man’s view and looking back at Colin for a second. “And one for Colin, please.” We couldn’t see the guy, but the glee in his voice as he said, “Sure, Drew. Anything else?” was obvious to everyone. Dan turned purple when he heard it, but he didn’t say anything. Drew turned back to face us, grinning, but his expression quickly sobered. “I think you guys do need to make a formal announcement,” he told us. “I don’t want any doubts about this.” I looked down at Colin and raised my eyebrows; he chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip before nodding slowly, and we looked back at Drew. “Can we do it now?” my lover asked, pressing a little closer to me. Drew shrugged and said, “Sure. But ice your hand first.” Col and both looked down, our eyes widening when we saw the swelling. Wayne stepped forward and carefully ran his fingers over the inflamed area. “It’s not broken,” he slowly said, his forehead wrinkling. “About ten minutes with an ice pack should take care of it, but your hand will be sore for a few days,” he told Colin with a knowing look. “So don’t squeeze anything too hard, or you’ll end up pulling something.” Drew lost it immediately, falling against the wall as he howled with laughter. I had a little more control, but I couldn’t help smiling at the mental image that sprang to my head---which matched the one Colin had just seen, if his blush was any indication. Right then, the cameraman came back with the ice packs; Drew thanked him and gave one to Colin before walking over to Dan. His eyes were hard and Col, Wayne, and I all jumped when he said, “Take the fucking ice pack---and take a good, long look around, because something tells me that you aren't going to be here much longer.” Dan turned white and sagged back into his chair, his jaw dropping slightly and already starting to swell visibly. It was obvious that he wanted to say something, and equally obvious that nothing would help. Colin, on the other hand, had no such compunctions. “No, Drew,” he said, looking at our boss. “It's not worth it.” “It's not just about you, Colin,” he replied softly, his eyes darkening. “This has been brewing for a long time; you two just tipped the scales.” I pulled my lover against me and firmly squeezed his arms, asking him to let it go. There was a long, tense moment while Colin thought about it, but it was broken when he reluctantly nodded. By then, the ice pack had done its job and Col's hand looked almost normal, so the four of us left Dan in his office and started back to the stage. I needed a few minutes alone with Colin, though, so I slowed my steps and pulled him off into a small corner at the junction of the hallway. “I love you,” I whispered hoarsely, gazing deeply into his eyes. “No matter what happens, I want you to remember that.” Colin's eyes got bright and he smiled, gently curving his right hand around my cheek and rubbing his thumb along my jawline. “I love you, too,” he murmured huskily, tilting his head back slightly. “Always.” A wide smile broke across my face and I bent down as he straightened. The emotions that burst forth when our lips touched were overwhelming and I moaned softly, capturing his face in both hands and pressing myself as close to him as I could possibly get. Colin’s hand tightened around my jaw and he whimpered into my mouth; my control wavered dangerously when I heard it and I deepened the kiss for just a second before breaking away and stepping back into the hallway. “Drew?” I called, craning my neck as I looked for my friend. “What?” he answered, poking his head around the corner. “Do you think you can stall for another twenty minutes?” I asked, catching Colin's hand in mine as it crept across my lower back and giving him a smoldering look before returning my attention to Drew. “Do I have a choice?” he said, giving both of us a knowing look. I, however, was feeling too good to let him rattle me and simply smiled, bringing Colin's hand to my lips. “No,” I replied calmly. “You don't have any choice at all.” * * * Well, there you have it: the whole, sordid story of our lives. Twenty years of love, laughter, tears, success... and we finally have everything we've ever wanted. And you... now you know the truth about Captain Hair. So go tell your friends; we have some serious lovemaking to do. * * * Finis xfphile and Heather January 13 to February 26, 2003