colin&ryan fic; 2/5

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Improbable Mission; Act 2

The first act is here

Colin/Ryan fic, pg-13 - R (mainly for swears), 2020 words, unbetaed, only happened in my brain, i hart feedback etc.

"Life imitates art far more than art imitates life." --Oscar Wilde



Act Two

Sticky. The makeup, or rather the liquid gunk they've wiped all over him is sticky, pulling at the hairs of his arms when he moves. Somewhere nearby Ryan is complaining loudly about it also, though being far less tactful and using more than a few cringeworthy expletives. Colin is too busy trying to find a comfortable position in his seat to pay him much attention. His make-up artist pats him on the shoulder.

"You'll be fine once it's dried properly."

He's right. But at about the same time the goop dries, and Colin finds a less awkward pose, Neilson is calling for them again, and Colin gives up being comfortable for the rest of the afternoon.

It's a closed set, thank god for small mercies, and unusually quiet when he walks in. Ryan is two steps behind him, bounding forward, he leans against Colin briefly

"Someone die in here or what?"

"I feel like we're in a porn movie."

Ryan chuckles. "You mean you wish."

Colin smiles and doesn't dignify a response.

The do a few quick scene blocks, without a rehearsal. Neilson, the cruel bastard, is one of those directors who likes the fresh feel of a unrehearsed take. Luckily, the scene is fairly basic. It's one of the last of the film, where Colin's character finally realises he has feelings for his best friend, and they kiss and then fall into bed. There's not much dialogue, Neilson tells them, so you have to communicate through body language.

"The audience have to feel what you feel." he says again. Colin nods, and moves into position, waiting for the voice to call action. He looks over at Ryan, and predictably, he winks. It gets under his skin a little that this is so easy for him, that there's no anticipation in his face at all. Colin wonders briefly if he looks nervous, and then Neilson yells at them to start, and there's no more time to think about it.

"I'm sorry," he starts, and the nerves leave him instantly. He can do this. "Daniel, I--"

Ryan shakes his head. "You have nothing to apologise for Matt, I hope you and Hugh are really happy--."

Two steps forward. "I broke up with him." Two more steps. "I realised he wasn't the one for me. I realised the person I'd always loved, was right in front of me all along."

Okay, so it's not exactly Shakespeare.

Ryan lifts his head, starting. "You? What?"

"It was always you." Colin says, softly. He takes the last few steps clasping Ryan's wrist, and pulling him forward, closing the space between them. He can feel the veins pulsating under Ryan's skin.

Every interview he's ever read about these sorts of love scenes on camera had always told him how sterilized and professional it was, having all these people around watching you, eradicating anything personal that might be involved.

And in part, that was true enough, he was aware of everyone around him, focusing intently on his every move. But at the same time, that focus, that concentration was like holding everything under a microscope. When he touched Ryan's face, it felt stronger, illuminated, he could feel harsh stubble, warm skin, see the soft white imprint where his thumb pressed against his jaw. He could feel Ryan's hands, one at the small of his back, one at his neck, feeling hot against his skin. When they’d kissed each other on whose line it had all been part of the joke, a brief peck of the lips for an easy laugh .

This time it was different, when he leant in for the kiss he could feel everything, the quick puff of warm breath on his lips. Ryan's lips are dry, slightly chapped when pressed against his, but there is a softness behind it, his mouth is warm, wet, and Colin can smell the faint hint of tobacco. It isn't repulsive, it isn't even surprising.

I know your lips

"Cut!"

Colin pulls back out of Ryan's grasp quickly, and before he even realises he's doing it, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He finally directs his attention at Neilson, but Neilson isn't looking at him.

"Ryan, you look too awkward. You have to relax or this scene won't work."

Colin watches as Ryan nods but doesn't look at him. "Right, I got it."

"You've got to act as though this man is the love of your life." Neilson says again, waving his arms emphatically.

"I got it" Ryan says again, a little more forcefully.

But apparently he really doesn't. Thirty-five awkward takes later Neilson doesn't even say cut, he just storms diva-like offset, leaving the assistant director to call it a day. Colin turns around to find Ryan has disappeared too. He momentarily thinks about going after him, but after all these years he is far too familiar with Ryan's temper when he's had a bad day, and not willing to risk it. So he heads back to his trailer instead.

The stuff they put on his skin comes off surprisingly easily with a bit of soap. He stands under the faucet for a long time, probably too long, but the feel of the hot water beading up and over his skin is so glorious, he gets lost in it for awhile, fingers crinkling and steam catching comfortably in his lungs.

When he's mostly dried and dressed in some pajamas, he finds a note slipped under his door. It's from Neilson.

"FABULOUS WORK TODAY MOCHRIE, PLEASE TEACH RYAN HOW!! :) :)"

Colin chuckles despite himself, and slides the note into a drawer before collapsing into his bed. As amusing as the multiple smiley faces were, it was a futile request. Ryan doesn't need teaching, he's a perfectly good actor. He simply must have just been a little off today. He just needs to sleep on it.

Sleep is good. Colin likes to sleep.

Some time later Colin is startled out of his doze by a knock on his door. "Go away," he yells, semi-crankily, "I'm asleep."

"That's pretty fucking coherent for asleep."

It's Ryan. Colin grumbles, but rolls out of bed nevertheless, unlatching the lock on the door. "What do you want?"

Ryan scowls and hands him a piece of paper. It seemed Neilson had also visited his trailer too.

"STILES, IF YOU STILL SUCK TOMORROW I'M REPLACING YOU WITH DREW CAREY!"

Colin chuckles again, and hands back the piece of paper. "He's joking Ryan. You’ll do fine, go to sleep."

Ryan ignores him and pushes past him into the trailer. "He's not joking about the fact that I sucked."

"You had an off day--"

"I was fucking shit." Ryan spits, crossing his arms across his chest.

Colin sighs, and sits down on his bed, the mattress sinking invitingly under his weight. "So, what do you want me to do about it?"

"I think we should practice it again."

Colin opens his mouth to say no. To say that thirty five takes should have been more than enough practice. To say that it's late and he's exhausted and he really, really just wants some sleep.

But he can't. Ryan actually looks really frustrated and almost, vulnerable. He’s a friend. If he says no now, neither of them will get any sleep. All he's asking for is a little help, after all.

"Alright." Colin sighs, "What part of the scene isn't actually working for you?"

Ryan shifts on his feet slightly "The dialogue is okay, it’s the face-sucking."

"Alright" Colin replies, standing up "So kiss me, and don't fuck it up."

Ryan nods and quickly steps into him, pressing his lips against Colin's and ugh-- Colin pulls away, making a face.

"Oh god, Ryan, what did you eat?"

"A sandwich" Ryan replies, looking confused.

"With dead people in it?" Colin shakes his head, disgusted, and leans back over the bed, rustling through one of the drawers. When he turns back around, Ryan has a grin on his face.

"Tuna with onions" Ryan chuckles "I forgot."

Colin thrusts the packet of mints into the other man's hands. "Sure you did."

Ryan slips a mint into his mouth and there is a small silence as he chews, Colin can feel his hands wringing reflexively. The clicking of the clock on the side of his bed suddenly seems to get much louder. It never used to be this tense between them, it‘s odd.

"What is it that's making you so uncomfortable?" Colin asks finally.

Ryan shrugs and perches on the bed next to him, his brow furrowed. "I don't know."

"Do I need to wear a blonde wig and tassels?"

"Shut up" Ryan snaps. "It's not that, it just..."

Colin almost says he understands, but stops himself. Understands what exactly?

"Ryan, you're a great actor" Colin says slowly "Just pretend that you are Daniel. Pretend you've been in love with me for a long time, that I'm what you want, Pretend I'm what you've always wanted. You can do that right?"

Ryan looks at him for a second, intense and thoughtful. "Can I try something slightly different this time?"

Colin barely gets a chance to nod, before Ryan is over him, pushing him back against the bed, his full weight pressing Colin back into the mattress. Ryan pauses for a second, face inches away from Colin's, and he looks determined, and something else.

He looks scared.

The realisation hits Colin with a jolt, and he's unfocused when Ryan kisses him. It's fierce, rough, and passionate. Almost painful. Colin lifts his arms slightly, trying to catch up, cradling the sides of Ryan's face, trying to regain some control. And then he feels the soft, warm flick of tongue against his bottom lip.

Huh, this must've been what Ryan meant by 'slightly different'.

Well, Colin thinks, in for a penny...

He parts his mouth slightly, cautiously, and though he's fully aware of what is happening he's not quite ready for the intensity of his response. The smothering heat of Ryan's mouth, the roughness of his tongue sliding over his and across the top of his mouth sends a welt of heat through his stomach he's not ready for, and evidently Ryan isn't quite either, a soft moan escaping somewhere in the other man's throat.

Colin pulls away abruptly, gasping despite himself. "Well, that seemed-- You should do that tomorrow I think."

He finally looks up at Ryan who is staring back at him, his face is pale and his eyes bright. Ryan just nods, and starts to make his way to the door. It's almost shut when Ryan opens it again, and leans in.

"Colin?"

Colin looks up from the bed, hands clutched hard over his knees. "Yeah?"

"I--” Ryan pauses, smoothing the back of his hair down. “I think I've really got it now. Thanks."

He doesn't say anything further, just ducks his head and disappears again. Colin walks across to the door and flicks the latch, his hand hovering over it momentarily, unsure what to do next, head swimming with thoughts, confusion.

Slight nausea.

Memories too, of a night mostly forgotten, where two young friends had drank a little too much, and buoyed by their own arrogance, thought it would be funny to creep into to the studio and hold their own show.

"It'll be fun. Trust me"

Colin stops short when he feels something cold under his foot. The packet of mints he'd retrieved for Ryan had tipped over somewhere in the course of their rehearsal, and are now scattered all over the floor. Colin leans down on the thin off-beige carpet and picks them all up, sorting them all neatly back into their tin. He closes it tightly and grips it in his hands.

Fuck.

"Fuck!" He yells it aloud this time, throwing the tin at the wall opposite, the mints exploding from their container and darting into all corners of the room.

Colin turns his back on the mess, and crawls into bed, curling up under the heavy folds of his blanket. He doesn't sleep again until the sun is already starting to rise.



tbc.