[identity profile] kalimyre.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] wl_fanfiction
Flight of Fancy

By [livejournal.com profile] kalimyre

Pairing: Ryan/Colin

Rating: R

Category: First time, romance, AU

Summary: In which there are plans and dreams and flying without a plane.

Notes: It's the last part, everyone. Thanks as always to Clay, Indy, and Jen, who helped make this happen, and thanks also to everyone who has read and said such kind things. You all make me so glad I'm in this fandom.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten

Part 11

Ryan walked into the room first, and Colin followed, turning to close the door behind them. When he looked forward again, Ryan was at his front, inches away. Colin swallowed and brought his hands up reflexively, curling his fingers around Ryan’s upper arms, one at a time. “Hi,” he said, a little breathily.

Ryan grinned. He took a step forward, backing Colin up. Then another, shuffling a little at a time until Colin’s back ran into the wall. Colin looked up, feeling Ryan’s chest brush against his, the difference in their heights striking from this close. At over six feet tall, Colin was not accustomed to feeling small or vulnerable, but Ryan did that to him.

“That wasn’t entirely fair. What you did in the restaurant, with the food--you know I can’t resist anything you feed me.” Ryan’s voice was low, growling. Hypnotic.

“You did it too,” Colin pointed out, rather reasonably, he thought.

“You started it,” Ryan countered. “And you know better. I bet Jamie yelled at you.”

“Jamie never yells,” Colin said.

“You know what I mean.”

Colin shrugged and laced his fingers behind Ryan’s neck, pulling him a little closer. He could feel Ryan’s breath on his skin, feather light and warm, crisp with the mint he’d had after dinner. Colin could almost taste it. “He wasn’t pleased, and yes, I suppose I should know better. It’s your fault, really.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How’s that?”

“You’re entirely too tempting. And I’m very bad at temptation.”

A slow smile spread across Ryan’s face, and he leaned to the side, murmuring in Colin’s ear, “Seems like you’re very good at it from where I’m standing.”

“I should say,” Colin began, catching himself when his voice threatened to crack, “that I’m bad at resisting temptation. I am a chef, after all, and fine food is all about indulgence.”

“Ah,” Ryan replied, nuzzling a little at the line of Colin’s jaw, the sensitive place just below his ear. “Indulgence. Sounds good.”

“Mmm, it is,” Colin agreed. He slid one hand down to Ryan’s waist, then up again, beneath his shirt. Ryan’s skin was smooth, nearly hairless, warm and resilient under his palm. “The best recipes are always rich and satisfying. Decadent, even.”

Ryan nodded and squirmed when Colin’s fingertips traced the edge of one nipple, not quite touching it. He put a hand at Colin’s side, dipping his fingers along the edge of his pants, skating just a under the cloth. Colin splayed his hand out over Ryan’s chest, feeling the heartbeat within, fluttering like a trapped bird.

“You like this,” Colin said, his words muffled against Ryan’s collarbone. He hadn’t been able to resist a taste where the skin peeked out from his shirt, sleek and inviting.

“How could you tell?” Ryan asked, half-laughing, and he shifted, allowing his hips to bump against Colin’s.

Colin grinned, and thought he probably looked like the cat that’d gotten the cream. “Well, I’d say that’s a good sign you’re happy to see me,” he teased, and Ryan ducked his head, hiding his face in Colin’s shoulder for a moment.

“Yeah, you got me,” he said, a little embarrassed.

“Good,” Colin replied, and he put his knuckles under Ryan’s chin, lifting his face so their eyes met. “Good,” he said again, softly.

Ryan blinked once, his eyes dark with widely dilated pupils, his hands squeezing Colin’s waist. “Really?” he asked, not quite joking.

Colin kissed him, one hand cupping his cheek, fingertips stretching to his neck, holding him steady. His other arm wrapped around Ryan’s back, still beneath his shirt, gathering as much sensation as he could. Ryan’s skin was addictive, the taste and feel of it something that filled him and left him wanting more all at once.

“Yes,” Colin said when he’d pulled back. “Really.”

Ryan smiled and hugged him, fierce and impulsive, peppering rapid kisses on his face and neck. Colin caught his breath when Ryan bit him lightly, just barely enough to sting, then soothed the place with another kiss, soft and lingering. He brought both hands to Ryan’s hips and pulled them fully into contact, letting Ryan feel what he had, what they both had. Ryan made a sound very much like a moan and clutched him closer for a moment, but then he pushed back, taking three tottering steps and bracing himself against the back of the couch for balance.

“Ryan?”

“Sorry,” Ryan said, breathing hard, his face flushed. “Sorry, I... I had to stop then, or not stop at all.”

Colin nodded, leaning against the wall and scrubbing a hand over his face. “Still too soon, huh?”

“Sorry,” Ryan repeated.

Colin went to him, taking his hand and guiding him around the front of the couch so they could sit down together. He tugged Ryan close, encouraging him to rest his head on Colin’s shoulder. He ran his fingers through Ryan’s hair and sat quietly until their breathing had slowed. “It’s okay,” Colin murmured after a while. “I shouldn’t be pushing so much.”

“No, no... I like it. I like that you want this. I guess it’s just...” Ryan spread his hands, shrugging. “Maybe it’s hard to believe.”

“Believe what? That I’m attracted to you? I thought that was pretty obvious,” Colin said, a little sheepishly.

“That’s part of it,” Ryan admitted. “I mean, you have actual groupies. You could have so many people lining up, just like that. I guess I don’t see why...”

Colin shook his head, giving Ryan an incredulous look. “You have to ask? Ryan, those people don’t know me at all. They get attached to some on-screen image, this... this fake character I have to put on and they think they want him, but that guy doesn’t exist. He’s lights and makeup and... lies, I guess. And I have to be that with everyone, even Jamie a little, I have to put on an act and give people what they want to see. You’re the only one that I get to be myself around. The only one who thinks that’s enough.” He paused, wincing at how high his voice had gotten. “Um, if... if that makes any sense.”

“I think it does,” Ryan said quietly. He tucked his hand into Colin’s, lacing their fingers together, stroking the pad of his thumb against Colin’s palm.

Colin looked down at their hands, and closed his eyes for a long moment. “We’re good together,” he said. “And not just on stage; I never meant that was the only way we were good. I think you knew that.”

“I wasn’t sure,” Ryan said, “but I hoped.” He cleared his throat, shifting a little on the couch. “What, um... what other ways are we good?”

Colin smiled at him and leaned over, kissing him, sweet and familiar. “All of them.”

“Oh,” Ryan said, and then kissed him back. Kissed him until Colin was lying back on the couch, Ryan over him, close enough for Colin to feel the flickering touch of the other man’s eyelashes on his cheek, enough to feel the weight of Ryan on him, the bright, barely contained energy in every inch of his body.

“Oh,” Colin echoed, out of breath again. Ryan’s hand was at his waist, tugging at the fastening to his pants, and Colin covered the hand with his own, meeting Ryan’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Depends,” Ryan said, smiling, his eyes full of laughter and something else, something stronger.

“On what?”

“On if you can catch me.” And he was up and away, vaulting over the back of the couch and running pell-mell for the bedroom, whooping laughter.

Colin shouted and tumbled off the couch, scrambling to his feet. He dashed into the bedroom and paused, frowning at the empty, neatly made beds. Then there was a rustle from behind him and Ryan burst out from behind the door, arms outstretched. Colin felt himself caught around the waist and propelled, his feet half stumbling and half skidding, the bed catching him in the backs of his knees. He landed on the mattress hard enough to bounce and there was Ryan, beaming at him, nearly glowing in the late afternoon sunlight from the sliding glass doors.

“Gotcha,” Ryan said, and Colin smiled because that was their word now, part of the tradition they were building, part of the ever more familiar game.

“Yeah,” he said, “you do.” He reached up to Ryan, pulling him close, then spun and pinned him, laughing at the way Ryan’s eyes went wide with surprise, then narrowed deviously.

Colin sat back on Ryan’s thighs, holding him in place while his hands were busy with shirt buttons. He undid his own until Ryan knocked his hands away with an eager, “Let me.” Colin obliged, his hands on Ryan’s shirt in return, pushing it off his shoulders once he had it open. Ryan lifted up and Colin tossed the shirt aside, then brought his hands immediately back to Ryan’s skin, unable to stay away for long.

He leaned over to taste, first the throat, the prominent Adam’s apple, the slim line of Ryan’s collarbone, skin stretched taut above it. Ryan wriggled and twisted, giggling at the sensation, and his hands wrapped around Colin’s hips, tugging him a little higher. Colin met his eyes for a long moment and licked his lips, loving the way Ryan tracked the movement, his own lips parted and his eyes intent.

Colin stretched out, pulling Ryan until they were both on their sides, chests together, bodies touching all the way down. Ryan’s eyes closed and he arched forward, bucking against Colin’s thigh twice before catching himself. He took a deep breath and rested trembling hands on Colin’s back, moving constantly, seeming to savor the feeling of bare skin.

“What do you want to do?” Colin whispered.

Ryan looked at him, arms strong around his back, holding him as if he had no intention of letting go. “I want...” He closed his eyes and smiled. “I want to fly.”

~~~

Since they’d begun sharing a room, Colin had wondered what it would be like to share a bed with Ryan. Would he sprawl, stealing the covers and leaving a bare corner for Colin to curl on? Would he toss and turn with the same restless energy that possessed him while he was awake? Would he be clingy, hot and suffocating?

When he woke late that evening, Colin found that Ryan was a little of all those things. He sprawled, yes, but he shared the covers, and his lanky form somehow folded around Colin, making space for him. He twitched a little, one leg giving the occasional jiggle, but it reminded Colin of lying in bed with his much loved childhood pet, a big old cat who’d been partial to long evening baths. The movement was soothing and familiar, and reminded him he wasn’t alone. Ryan radiated heat, but not so much that it was stifling, and his arms were wrapped around Colin, but it was easy and comfortable and Colin thought he could drift off again with no effort at all.

It occurred to him, as he watched Ryan sleep, that he ought to get something nice for Jamie. If it wasn’t for his manager, he’d never have even met Ryan, after all. It was amazing how fast things had changed. Frightening, almost, because if he could get everything he wanted so quickly, he could lose them again just as fast. The thought made him want to burrow against Ryan, to close his eyes and stop time for a while. To stay exactly where he was.

Of course, it was silly to be paranoid. There was no reason to think he’d lose anything; it was just that he’d never before had so much to lose. A performance partner that brought the joy back into his job, someone he could rely on, someone who made him feel stronger by his mere presence. And now, someone to share all those things he’d worked so hard for. Someone who knew who he was, and didn’t want him to be anyone else.

Colin knew, realistically, that this was just beginning. That he’d known Ryan for less than two weeks and planning the rest of his life around the man was jumping the gun, but he couldn’t help believing it. He found himself picturing a day ten, fifteen years down the road, both of them old and gray, Ryan finally starting to lose some of that damn hair and no longer allowed to tease him about his own baldness. Not that that would stop him.

He imagined them on his porch swing in winter, a home by a lake, the water iced over and pristine, the world white and new around them. They were bundled beneath a shared blanket, swinging in slow, comfortable quiet. Perfectly content. He could even see the hangar built beside the house, Ryan’s plane housed safely inside, and a dirt airstrip in the backyard so they could take off whenever they pleased, free to fly.

Later they would go in, and Colin would make lunch, Ryan sneaking up behind him to steal bites of food and kisses, often using one as a distraction for the other. Colin would scold and wave a mixing spoon threateningly and Ryan would pretend to be chastised, but the laughter in his eyes would give him away, as it always did. And Colin would smile and tell him if he was going to be underfoot, he might as well help make the food, and Ryan would slip in beside him and dig in because that was what he’d wanted all along.

Colin laughed a little, shifting on the bed, amused by the depth of his daydream. It had always been a silly fantasy, growing old with someone he loved, finding that perfect companion. It was a flight of fancy, not something that could actually happen.

Except now it could, Colin thought, and he smiled. There were no guarantees, but it was more possible now that it had ever been, and for now, that was enough. Colin kissed Ryan’s lips, soft and giving in sleep, and Ryan shifted a little, smiling faintly. Colin took a deep breath, savoring the already familiar scent of Ryan’s skin, and let his eyes drift shut. He was still smiling when he fell asleep.

~~~

Fin
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