Fic: Aegis, part 1/4

[kalimyre.livejournal.com]

Aegis

By kalimyre

Rating: PG

Pairing: Ryan/Colin

Summary: The one where Colin gets sick and Ryan worries and takes care of him, with bonus Helping Hands yummies. Because I really do love cuddlefic that much.

Notes: Once again, this is clayangel’s fault. It always is. Thanks to go her and also to indybaggins, who laughed at a story subtitled “sickfic.”

~~~

When he got off the plane feeling ten times worse than when he’d boarded, Colin knew it was going to be a bad day. Airplanes were uncomfortable at the best of times, and since he’d managed to wake up with a cold that morning the plane had felt freezing and airless and left him with a pounding headache.

He shuffled through the airport, keeping his head down and occasionally smothering a cough in one hand. Dragging his little carryon behind him and glad he’d learned to pack light enough to avoid the endless wait and crowding of the baggage claim, he walked out into the thick, hot air of Los Angeles. Colin could feel the smog wrap around his chest like a quilt, so much that taking a deep breath actually hurt for a moment, until he adjusted.

There was a line of cabs waiting in the loading zone and he got in the closest one, shivering in the overly air-conditioned interior. Colin gave the address for his usual hotel and slumped in the backseat, coughing again. He shook his head, wincing at the ache in his chest. It was days like this that made him think it was really time to quit smoking.

There was time for a quick nap in the hotel before the taping that evening, and Colin woke feeling marginally better. A hot shower finally seemed to thaw him a little, although he shivered again as soon as he stepped back into the artificially cooled hotel room. He swallowed a couple Tylenol and checked his watch, frowning when he realized he was still moving too slow.

Another cab to the studio, and for an extra ten bucks, the driver got him there with time to spare. Then the familiar backstage, with hurrying techs making last minute adjustments and a crew member Colin didn’t recognize ushering him along to wardrobe and makeup, while he nodded agreeably and hoped for a shirt with long sleeves. The studio was having one of its freezing days.

“Hey, there he is.”

Colin smiled, tugging the white napkin out of his shirt collar as the makeup artist finished. “Hi,” he said. “Were you looking for me?”

Ryan shrugged and just looked at him for a moment, head tilted to one side, smiling slightly. “Good to see you again,” he said, pulling Colin into an easy hug.

“Yeah.” Colin closed his eyes for a long moment and took a deep breath, coughing halfway through.

“You okay?” Ryan asked, clapping him on the back.

“Sure.” Colin sighed and cleared his throat. “Just coming down with a cold, I think. Great timing, isn’t it?”

“If you’re sick...”

“No, no,” Colin interrupted, holding a hand up. “I’m fine. Can’t make any guarantees about you, though.”

Ryan shook his head, looking confused. “What?”

“Well, I may be contagious, after all.” Colin leaned in closer, lowering his voice, although the makeup artist had already left to take care of someone else and the room was otherwise empty. “Or is this visit somehow different from all the others?”

Ryan grinned and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Um, no... I figured we’d spend a little time together. Are you coming over later?”

“Planned on it,” Colin replied, allowing his hand to curl into Ryan’s for a moment before pulling back. “We could just hang out, I suppose. Watch movies or something. I mean, if you’re worried about getting sick.”

Ryan’s arm slipped around his waist, fingertips just brushing beneath the hem of his shirt. “I think I’ll risk it,” he said, his voice low and close in Colin’s ear.

Colin chuckled. “I thought you might.” He heard Drew’s voice approaching in the hall and stepped back, putting some space between him and Ryan. “Hey, Drew,” he said once the other man came into sight.

“Oh hi, Colin!” Drew pulled him in to a quick one-armed hug and shook his hand. “You ready for the show?”

“Sure.” Colin bounced a little on his heels, wrapping his arms around his chest. “Did they not pay the heating bill again?”

Drew laughed, shrugging. “I don’t know, but hey, at least it’s not as bad this time. It’s almost warm.” He patted Colin on the shoulder, then turned toward the door, giving a little wave. “It’s great seeing you again, you know? I’ve got to talk to Dan a little, and then we’ll be on stage. Let’s say... ten minutes, okay?”

Ryan and Colin nodded and watched him go. Colin felt Ryan come up behind him, not quite touching him but close enough to feel his presence. “We should get out there,” Ryan said.

“Mmm,” Colin murmured. “We should.”

Ryan’s hands touched his waist, palms wide and warm against him for a moment, before he pulled away. “You’re not moving,” he pointed out, and Colin could hear the smile in his voice.

“You aren’t either,” Colin countered, and leaned back slightly, letting his shoulders rest against Ryan’s chest. He found his eyes drifting shut again and shook himself, rubbing his hands briskly over his face.

“What was that?”

“Just trying to wake up. I had the flight this morning and I think I’m still jet-lagged.” Colin turned, blinking up at Ryan, wishing they could blow off the taping, go back to Ryan’s place and sleep for a week. With a soak in the hot tub first, because that sounded heavenly.

Ryan made a face, shuddering theatrically. “I’m just glad I can drive to these things.”

Colin nodded, slipping a hand around Ryan’s upper arm and squeezing gently. “We really should get out there. They’ll come looking for us soon.”

“Probably,” Ryan agreed, and ran his knuckles up and down the center of Colin’s back with just enough pressure to make Colin want to lean into it.

“We’ll throw the schedule off.”

“Very irresponsible of us,” Ryan said, nodding.

“And of course, the audience will be waiting. It’s not polite to just leave them hanging,” Colin continued, not sure if he wanted Ryan closer or further away. Distance would make resisting temptation easier, but proximity would give him an excuse to not resist at all.

“You’re right. We really should go.” Ryan edged toward the door, and then paused, waiting.

“Then again,” Colin said, biting back a smile. “It’s not as if they’ll start the show without us. If we happened to be a few minutes late...”

“Coincidentally, I have a dressing room with a locking door just down the hall,” Ryan said, as if he’d just thought of it.

“Do you?” Colin blinked thoughtfully. “Why, what purpose could that serve?”

“Maybe if we went there, we could think of something,” Ryan suggested.

Colin nodded and stuck his head out into the hallway, looking both directions. He could feel Ryan beside him, one hand on the small of his back, holding him steady. They crept out into the hall and Ryan flattened himself against the wall, holding his hands up as if they were a gun, then gestured Colin forward. Colin covered his mouth to muffle a laugh that turned into another cough, and slipped down the hall.

“There you two are!”

They froze, and Ryan sighed, putting his imaginary gun back on his hip. “So close,” he murmured.

Colin smiled ruefully. “Hey, Wayne,” he said, waving as the young man approached them. “You found us.”

“Yeah, Drew asked me to look for you,” Wayne said. He patted Colin on the back in greeting, beaming up at him. “What were you doing?”

Colin exchanged a glance with Ryan and shrugged. “Just got distracted, I guess.”

“My fault,” Ryan said, walking with them toward the stage. “I’m very distracting.”

“Yes, you are,” Colin agreed with a tight-lipped smile. “Very.”

Wayne looked back and forth between them, his eyes narrowed. “What... no, you know what? I don’t really want to know.”

“Smart man,” Ryan said.

They walked out on stage to the cheers of the crowd, Greg already in his seat waving at them, and Dan standing off to the side giving them a pointed look and tapping his watch.

“Oh dear,” Colin said from the corner of his mouth. “We’ve upset him.”

“I can live with that,” Ryan replied. “You ready to go?”

Colin grinned. “Always.”

~~~

The first hour was mostly okay, although the Tylenol didn’t seem to be making any progress against Colin’s headache. The bright stage lights made him want to close his eyes, and closing his eyes made him want to doze off, which served him right, he supposed. He’d been doing this long enough to know better than scheduling a flight and a show on the same day, but Whose Line wasn’t his only job, after all. His work back home had run late, and his planned settling in day had been sacrificed.

He was still coughing, but he managed to hide it most of the time, and work it into the games when he had to. It was starting to become one of those deep, rattling coughs that seemed to bring up half a lung every time, and Colin hoped fervently that he didn’t lose his voice. That would surely bring the taping to a halt, which was the last thing he wanted. On stage with his friends was his favorite, most comfortable place to be, not counting the few days he managed to steal with Ryan.

Colin was pleased to see the stagehands carrying the setup for Helping Hands during one of their performance breaks. A lot of fun could be had with that game, and since he didn’t have to actually speak or even show his face to the audience, he could relax a little.

“Oh boy,” Ryan muttered beside him, eying the food on the table. “Here we go again.”

Colin shrugged, looking at the home style dinner—meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans, complete with apple pie—with disinterest. He hadn’t been hungry all day, and the thought of food was vaguely repulsive. “Maybe you won’t have to eat any.”

Ryan snorted. “Right. I can hear you plotting from here, you know.”

“Me?” Colin tried for an innocent blink, but gave it up as requiring too much effort halfway through. “You’ll be fine,” he said, taking a sip of water to fight back another rising cough.

“Are you okay?”

Colin frowned, giving Ryan a puzzled look. “I’m fine. Why do you keep asking me that?”

“You seem off,” Ryan replied, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m just tired.” Colin put on a reassuring smile, then leaned in close, dipping his voice a little lower even though the sound system was off at the moment and their mikes were dead. “I think I’ll go to bed right after the taping.”

Ryan’s lips twitched, fighting a smile. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Then Mark, the stage manager, caught their attention, waving them forward. It was time to get ready for the game, which for Colin meant donning an extra shirt over his own to match the plaid flannel one Ryan was putting on. He was glad of the warmth, although the thin material didn’t do much to protect him from the relentless blast of the air conditioning.

Ryan, on the other hand, was a much better source of heat and Colin sighed in relief as he slipped his arms around the other man’s waist. Drew was already beginning the intro, welcoming the audience back from the break and explaining the game, but Colin figured he had at least a minute before he had to actually do anything. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the back of Ryan’s shoulder.

He could feel warmth banded around his back, Ryan’s arms snug and familiar, and he soaked it up, pressing as close as he could. Ryan’s shirt was soft against his cheek, the rhythm of Ryan’s breathing steady and calm, and it was so very tempting to just let himself drift. Colin thought he could almost fall asleep right there, standing up, although to be fair Ryan was probably taking more of his weight than Colin was by that point.

It startled him when Ryan started to speak, the rumble reaching him more by feel than sound, and he jumped, raising his hands automatically and moving them to Ryan’s directions. He’d pretty much blanked on the explanation of the game, and so had no idea who Ryan’s character was or why he was having dinner with Drew, but it was easy enough to pick up on Ryan’s cues anyway.

“I’m sure your meatloaf is fine, honey,” Ryan said, and Colin saw Drew affect an anxious face. He smiled a little when he noticed Drew’s flowered apron and wig, complete with big pink curlers. Colin felt for the meatloaf, breaking off a large chunk and shaping it into a ball in his hands, glad of the warmth but not the grease. When he brought it up to feed to Ryan, he could clearly smell the hamburger and garlic, with a heavy coat of cloyingly sweet ketchup and he held his breath, swallowing hard.

“Um, that’s...” Ryan mumbled through a mouthful, clearly having trouble getting it down. Colin held his hand up obediently, palm open, and Ryan spat the food into it. He’d done it a hundred times in a hundred different games and it normally didn’t faze Colin at all, but this time his stomach lurched and he dropped the food quickly, wiping his hands on Ryan’s chest.

“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” Drew wailed, wringing his hands. “I’m never going to impress your mother, she’ll hate me.”

“No, no,” Ryan replied, and Colin waved his hands soothingly, then patted Drew’s cheek. Drew wrinkled his nose and wiped residue of semi-chewed meatloaf from his face, giving Colin a rueful smile. “It just needs some gravy,” Ryan finished.

Colin reached until he felt the gravy boat, and dipped his fingers in cautiously, hoping it wasn’t too hot. He grimaced against Ryan’s shoulder when he found it barely lukewarm and partially congealed. He dipped his hand in and got a little pool of gravy in his palm, then lifted it questioningly. Ryan nodded and Colin was once again glad he wasn’t the one eating this stuff. He brought the hand up to Ryan’s chin, allowing him to lap the gravy up with his tongue.

“Oh yeah,” Ryan said, his voice strained. “That’s... flavorful.”

Colin caught a whiff of thick, overly salted gravy and turned his head away, pressing his mouth and nose against Ryan’s back. He dropped his hand as soon as Ryan leaned away from it, flinging a few drops of gravy in Drew’s direction. Drew squawked and jumped back, and Colin felt Ryan’s back shake in a silent laugh.

He kept his eyes closed, stealing a little rest while Ryan and Drew talked a bit more. Colin listened enough to keep up with the gestures and respond when Ryan mentioned the mashed potatoes, which he wanted to use as a facial mask. “Mother will love it,” he told Drew. “Especially when she sees what it’s done for you.”

Colin grinned and scooped up some potatoes, holding the handful out toward Drew’s face, but Drew stepped back quickly. “Oh, no, you first,” he said, laughing.

Ryan sighed, but Colin felt his slight nod and complied, bringing the mashed potatoes carefully to his face and patting them onto his cheeks. Most of them fell right back off again and Colin rubbed the bits that were left, as if they would be absorbed into the skin.

“But you can’t have mashed potatoes without gravy!” Ryan called out, and Colin shook his head slightly. It was always amazing what Ryan would do in this game for a laugh. Still, he was only the hands, not the head, so he did as he was told and scooped up more gravy, stroking it delicately along Ryan’s cheekbones and nose. Unfortunately, bringing the gravy that close meant he got to smell it again, and his stomach performed an uneasy roll. Colin closed his eyes and exhaled carefully, gritting his teeth.

Wayne, the “winner” and therefore at the desk, buzzed them and Colin dropped his hands with relief, resting his cheek against the back of Ryan’s neck for a long moment before pulling away.

Ryan picked up a towel while Drew reeled off his usual line about them being right back and took them into the break. Colin took the other end of the towel, focusing on getting his hands clean and carefully not looking at the mess of food on the table. He could still smell the gravy, and could imagine how it would feel in his mouth, greasy and cold, unpleasantly slick. He shuddered and swallowed again, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Colin? You okay?” Ryan asked, stepping close to him.

Colin nodded, not quite daring to open his mouth. He held his hands up, rubbing his fingertips together distastefully. When Ryan just stared at him blankly, he took a deep breath and spoke fast. “Towel’s not working. I’m going to go wash my hands.” Then he turned, heading off the stage at a rapid walk, hands clenched at his sides.

There was a bathroom just down the hall backstage and Colin ducked into it, dropping to his knees in the nearest stall and knocking the door shut with an elbow. For a moment, he wasn’t sure it was going to happen, but then his body seemed to register that it was now allowed to throw up, and promptly complied. It was quick, at least, since his stomach had nothing in it but the water he’d been sipping during the show.

When he was done, Colin shut the lid and folded his arms on it, resting his head until he could catch his breath. When he did stand, his legs were watery, the muscles uncooperative. He braced himself against the stall and stayed still until the trembling eased a bit, and then he shuffled to the sink, running water to rinse his mouth. His hands still smelled of meatloaf and gravy and he washed them under very hot water, trying to let the heat reach his bones.

Colin could feel a slick of cold sweat on his back and when he looked in the mirror, the fluorescent lights were unforgiving. He looked washed out and pale, his eyes dull and underscored with dark circles.

“Hey.”

Colin jumped, his quick indrawn breath turning into a series of coughs. Ryan was standing just inside the bathroom door, but he came forward when Colin started coughing, putting a hand on his back and steadying him. “Snuck up on me,” Colin muttered once he’d cleared a little of the pressure from his chest.

“You’re really sick,” Ryan said, and he sounded worried enough to make Colin straighten and blink at him in surprise.

“It was the gravy,” Colin explained earnestly. “The smell, I think... and it only got me because I haven’t eaten today. It’s just a little cough, Ryan.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but his hands were warm and solid, one beneath Colin’s elbow and the other on his back, shoring him up. “Why aren’t you eating?”

Colin shrugged. “Got up too early, I think. It threw my whole day off, and you know how airplane food is... and then I was really tired when I got in, so I went straight to sleep. By the time I woke up it was time to come here.”

“That doesn’t work,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “I’d understand you being hungry because you didn’t have time to eat, but that shouldn’t make you throw up. Plus, I think you have a fever.”

“No I don’t,” Colin protested automatically, but he dropped his gaze when Ryan gave him an incredulous look. “Maybe a little one, I guess. It doesn’t help that the studio is freezing today.”

“It’s not that cold,” Ryan told him quietly. “Come here.” He pulled Colin close, pressing a palm to his forehead.

“That’s not very accurate,” Colin grumbled, but he relaxed into the touch anyway, letting his shoulder rest against Ryan’s chest.

“You’re burning up,” Ryan said, sliding his palm down to Colin’s cheek, then brushing his knuckles gently along Colin’s jaw. “And you can barely stay awake.”

“I’m tired, yes,” Colin conceded, “but I can finish the taping. I’ve done all right so far, haven’t I?”

“And won’t it be funny when you collapse on stage?” Ryan said grimly. “I mean it, Colin. You’re in no shape to do this.”

Colin gave an exasperated huff and pulled back, leaning against the counter and folding his arms. “I think I know if I’m okay to keep going or not, and I’m telling you I can handle it. We’re already more than halfway through and if we quit now, it means disappointing everyone and throwing off the taping schedule and racking up production costs in studio time with nothing to show for it.”

Ryan opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it shut again when the door opened and Greg poked his head in. “Hellooooo,” he drawled, raising his eyebrows. “Are you two coming back sometime today?”

“Yes,” Colin said, at the same time as Ryan said “No.”

Greg looked back and forth between them, standing in the doorway and holding it open. “Which is it? And why do I always find you two in bathrooms? I’m beginning to think someone has a weird kink that I don’t really want to hear about.”

“Don’t be silly,” Colin said. “Of course you want to hear about it.”

Greg grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Well, when you put it that way...”

“Colin’s sick,” Ryan said flatly, shooting Colin a hard look. “I think we need to cut the taping short.”

Colin sighed and shook his head. “Ryan...”

Greg frowned, all traces of teasing gone from his face. “You’re sick? Hell, Colin, why didn’t you say something?”

“Because it’s just a little cold,” Colin said, holding a hand up to silence Ryan’s protest. “And a slight fever,” he amended grudgingly. “But I’m fine, I can finish the taping. I promise to get some rest and eat chicken soup after we’re done if that makes you feel better.”

“Isn’t it supposed to make you feel better?” Greg asked, but his eyes were still concerned. “Really, are you sure? You do look pretty rough, man.”

“I’m sure,” Colin replied, meeting Ryan’s eyes for a long moment before summoning a reassuring smile for Greg. “And I’m ready to go back on stage. Please stop worrying; it’s a weird look for you.”

Greg snorted, but seemed to take him at his word, stepping back to let everyone out of the bathroom. “Okay then,” he said, patting Colin on the back as he passed. “Let’s do this thing.”

Ryan followed along behind, and Colin could feel his friend’s sullen stare on the back of his head. He paused just before they reached the stage, letting Greg go on ahead. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I feel better, actually.” Which was true; now that he’d thrown up, his stomach had settled, and while the headache was still bad, at least the coughing seemed to have reached a plateau.

“I don’t like this,” Ryan murmured, a hand on the small of Colin’s back, keeping him close.

“I know.” Colin shrugged, offering a weak smile. “When I planned this trip, I did intend to spend most of it in bed, but not quite this way.”

Ryan nodded, one corner of his mouth tugging upward. “You’ll tell me if you start feeling worse?”

“If I feel bad enough to stop the taping, I’ll tell you,” Colin replied, which was not exactly what Ryan had asked, but they both knew it was the only concession Colin was willing to make.

~~~

On to part two