Promises

[improvfan88.livejournal.com]

My first post in a while, stupid Internet was taken away from me for 5 weeks. Five whole weeks! So I thought I'd kick off with this. This is my first angst fic simply because I've had this happen to me not five hours ago, so slightly pissed off, I thought I'd write this to get it off my mind. Feedback appreciated! :D It'd make my day :P I'm not begging. Really. OK, a little.

Author: Improvfan88
Pairing: Ry/Col (duh!)
Rating: I'd say PG-13 for swearing.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did. They could make me feel slightly better.

Promises - A One Shot Fic


I sit and sigh for what feels like the tenth time in last two minutes. Everyone else is happy: Drew, Brad, Greg, Jeff, they're all happy. But I'm not. He's not here. I feel so childish as well. I made him promise me, pinky promise even, that he would be out here tonight and he's not.

Wait, hold on, maybe I should explain a few things. Who I am would be a good start. I am Ryan Stiles. You know, the tall lanky one with a beak for a nose. Yeah, that's me. Where am I? I'm currently sitting in a dive of a bar, surrounding by what I consider some of my best friends. But they don't make a difference. I feel bad for saying it. Usually I have a great night out with these guys, regardless of whether he's there or not, more often than not, he's not. I apologise for the lack of vocabulary, but I'm in a bad mood. Who is he? He is Colin Mochrie, my best friend. The man who has been there for me through thick and thin. Why am I so bothered that he's not here? Well, that's a more difficult question to answer. It's also a question that I can't really properly answer. But if you want the blunt answer, then I'll give it to you.

I'm in love with my best friend.

I know.

Don't worry, it shocked me when I first realised. In fact, I punched a brick wall when I first realised. I'm not shocked anymore. I've grown to accept it. After all, I've been friends with the man for nearly thirty years, surely everybody wonders what it would be like to be with their best friend. Right? Well, I've thought, and thought some more, and then couldn't stop thinking about it. And it sucks. Because he has no idea.

So now I'm pissed off. Because he promised me. And he didn't turn up. Do I really mean that little to him that he can't take a night off to come out for a few drinks? That he's got to fuck off somewhere else instead of spending some time with me? That sounds pretty insecure, childish and selfish when I say it like that, but we've hardly spent time with each other outside of work. I just want to have a conversation with the man that isn't supposed to be funny.

Then suddenly, he's here. He walks in through the door, his cheeks red from the cold weather outside, and I instantly forget that I was ever mad at him.

'No, no! I'm mad at him'.

'He didn't break his promise though.'

'I don't care'.

'Shut up! I'm trying to listen to him'.

"Hey guys," the soft Canadian accent is music to my ears, "Sorry but I can't stay long. Just thought I'd pop in to say hi, bye really, without seeming too rude."

Oh, so he's not staying. He's not coming out and getting drunk with us like he promised. Well, fine. Fuck him. Before I know it, he's gone again. And he's not said a word to me. What am I to him really? I thought I was important to him, but apparently not. I check my watch. It's nearing midnight. The stories going round the table are turning dirty, how many girls they've all slept with, the best place they've ever fucked, the worst fuck of their lives. I don't care. We've done this so many times I wonder why they continually do it.

"I'm gonna head guys." I say, standing up and finishing off the rest of my beer. It's my fifth of the night and I don't feel anything, which, in turn, annoys me too. I feel like getting absolutely plastered.

"You sure Ry Guy?" Greg asks me. I hate that nickname. I've told him so many times, and still he continues to call me it.

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow." I turn on my heel and leave. It's only a five minute walk to the hotel, but I smoke two cigarettes on the way. I've been smoking more recently. He keeps telling me to give up whenever he actually talks to me. I don't want to. I find comfort in these little nicotine sticks, and I don't want to give that up. They promise relief and they deliver every time. Unlike a certain person who I can't stop thinking about.

'Ah well, not my problem. I don't care.'

I do really. But I don't want to admit it. If I do, then I've got to explain to myself why the presence of one man makes my entire world brighten immediately. Why his smile is the thing I count on, day in, day out. Why his laughter is the most beautiful sound in the world. Why whenever he looks at me with those brown eyes, I can't think of anything but losing myself in them. Why I can forgive him for everything when he looks at me with those eyes. Colin's not a manipulator, far from it, I don't think he realises the effect that he has on me. Those eyes could make me do anything.

I reach the hotel, and push the elevator button, harder than I really should've. The lift comes down, and takes me up to the fifth floor, the top floor, where the view from my room rivals any postcard I've ever been sent. But it doesn't matter. I could appreciate its beauty if one man was standing beside me now. But I don't. I can't. All I can think about is how I feel that he's let me down by not keeping a simple promise. And it annoys the hell out of me. How can one person affect another so much through simple things? The funny thing is though, Colin has no idea how much he affects me. None of them do. I may not be an A-List celebrity, or win an Oscar, but I'm a damn good actor. I know how to hide my emotions and plaster a fake smile on.

I strip off down to my boxers - I can't sleep in anything else - and climb into bed. I place my mobile on the bedside table in some vain hope that he'll call, or text, or do something to show how sorry he is that he broke his promise. But I doubt it. If he doesn't know how hurt I am by something so simple, then he won't make the effort to fix it. I feel so stupid for feeling this way, but I can't help it. Colin just does that to me. I feel my eyes slip shut, and sleep beginning to overtake me, when suddenly my phone beeps. My heart soars. It's from him.

'Hey Ry, sorry I had to run off earlier. We need to have a proper catch up outside work, I feel like I haven't talked to you in ages. Tomorrow night we'll go out for a few, just me and you. I promise. Col.'

He promises. I quickly reply saying that it would be good, feeling a small smile crawl over my face.

'He promised today as well. Is he just gonna let you down tomorrow too?'

'He doesn't know how much it affects me'.

'Tell him then.'

'I can't do that.'

'Then you're gonna be hurt over and over again until something gives.'

I turn over in bed, trying to get comfortable.

'Maybe so, but Colin is worth every second of stupid hurt that I feel. I've caused it myself. Besides.'

'He promised.'

Comments

[improvfan88.livejournal.com]

Hey, sorry that I'm replying so late to this!
I can remember the night I wrote that, and I was feeling exactly the same way. It's happened again today actually, same guy and everything. :(