Fic- Telling It Like It Is (1/3)

[iamcrazyodo.livejournal.com]

(I have to post this fic in 3 parts because LJ is being an arse and telling me it's too long)
(5th try now. Am I allowed to post tonight? *shakes fist at LJ*)

Title: Telling It Like It Is 
Author: Odo (iamcrazyodo)
Paring: Colin/Ryan (hinting at future Greg/?) 
Rating: NC-17
Summary/Author's Notes: Secret Summer Fic for her Highness, The Empress, who asked for angsty unrequited love Colin for Ryan, lots of frustration with a very hot happy ending. First fic posted since I came back to the fandom and I'm glad to finally be really back. Thanks for suggesting the challenge and all your hard work, Indy. 
Flashbacks, "people talking", 'thoughts'.
Word count: 8,372 (whole story)
Crossposted to my own LJ and dedicated to the_empressar
Darling, this is for you. Enjoy.

Telling it like it is

 

 

“Unrequited love is a fucking bitch.”

 

Colin’s face breaks into a grin as his interlocutor chokes on his drink. “It’s not because I don’t usually swear that I don’t know how to.

 

“I know, Colin. Sorry, man. Go on. But that’s stuff’s good so don’t make me waste any more of it,” the man adds, still coughing.

 

“I can’t promise that. It’s not my fault you can’t hold your liquor.”

 

“Asshole!”

 

“Insult me again and I tell my big tall boyfriend to beat you up.”

 

“Keep saying things like that and people will really believe you’re the wife in the relationship.”

 

“Asshole.”

 

The man in the big recliner smiles and tips his bottle at Colin before taking a mouthful. He turns his beer a few times in his hands before giving Colin a very serious look. “Come on, man. Tell me the whole story so I know I’m not alone and I’m not going crazy.”

 

A nod. “Well, it hit me when I least expected it. Not a gentle little slap on the cheek, no, the kind of punch in the face that knocks you out for the count! That’s how it felt.”  

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Colin can barely contain his excitement as he gets off the plane. Spending time with Ryan is always fun, but working with him again, that’s an opportunity Colin just can’t believe he’s finally getting again. And all thanks to Ryan, as usual. He wants to be resentful but he can’t summon up enough negative thoughts. He’s determined to do his best and ensure they keep him this time.

 

Ryan said he’d pick him up and Colin can’t wait to see him. Getting through customs is a piece of cake and he’s so giddy he feels like skipping as he heads towards the luggage carrousel.

 

Once out, it’s a matter of seconds before he spots his friend. There’s a moment of anticipation where Colin can actually hear the deafening sound of the blood pounding in his veins as his pulse suddenly speeds up uncontrollably. Then he finds himself held tightly in Ryan’s arms and Colin can swear it feels like coming home.

 

The rest of the day is a bit of a blur. On the way to the hotel, Ryan tells him most of the guys will be at their usual pub later and it would be good for Colin to meet them before the taping tomorrow. Colin agrees. He can’t recall much of that evening except that he must have been grinning stupidly the whole time because his jaw aches. He’s drunk on happiness.

 

It’s only much later that night, when he’s already back in his hotel room, that it hits him. He has to sit down, the sudden realisation making him dizzy and leaving him speechless.   

 

If he’s a bit awkward the next day, Ryan probably attributes it to nerves because he tries not to be overly protective, and gives him a bit of space. Colin is grateful for that, and for his ability to concentrate and keep a poker face because that’s all he’s got to keep him sane. But late at night, with nothing to protect him from his thoughts, Colin’s mind wonders why those feelings have sneaked up on him after so many years of friendship. He’s always known Ryan meant the world to him, never stopping to analyse why. Now that he has, he simply can’t believe it. Still, it explains why he’s always had a heightened awareness of Ryan’s presence, of his actions, of every word he’s said to him. When he realises that he also finds most of Ryan’s faults endearing, Colin knows he’s in trouble – and, apparently, a sap as well.

 

He knows it’s not just a crush, a passing infatuation caused by the fact that he’s missed his friend so much in their time apart. No, Colin’s craving for Ryan runs much deeper. He buries his head in his hands and wonders when he’s become so fucked up?

 

Suddenly, Colin is scared. He’s not religious but finds himself fervently praying. ‘Let it be a fucking nightmare, please! Just– let me wake up now!’ Colin begs for everything to go back the way it used to be.

 

But in the morning, as he stares at the haunted face that looks back at him from above the bathroom vanity, Colin has to admit his ‘nightmare’ is very real, and his feelings, still there. He feels discombobulated. Nothing makes sense anymore. All his joy at being in London with Ryan is gone, leaving only dread in its wake. And questions like ‘why him?’ and ‘why now?’

 

So Colin thinks. Hard.

 

‘Yes, I’ve been attracted to men before – although that’s in the past, I have a family now – but not to Ryan. Never. He doesn’t lean that way. He’s not even my type! What am I saying? I DON’T have a type! But if I had one, he wouldn’t be it, I’m sure. We’re just very close friends, that’s all there is to it. I’ve loved him for years, just not THAT way. Right? RIGHT?’

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

“You know what I thought?” Colin looks at his unusually silent friend who just shakes his head in answer. “Well, before you say it, I know you’re not supposed to have one in your thirties but bear in mind that I was confused. I thought, what if this is just a mid-life crisis?”

 

A chuckle resonates in the silent living room.

 

“Yeah, I know. In my mind, I could deal with it if this was just a passing urgency to turn my life upside down and recapture my youth by doing something crazy and daring. Except that I’ve never had any desire to relive my youth, and losing Ryan’s friendship is not the kind of life-changing event I’d go for. That’s never been an option. There’s also the fact that a crisis is, by nature, temporary and I knew that my feelings were anything but.”

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

They’re in the middle of a game. Colin opens his mouth to comment on Ryan’s action but Ryan smiles at him and he forgets what he was about to say. It’s only thanks to Ryan’s quick thinking that Colin doesn’t end up looking like the idiot he feels.

 

“You’re okay, buddy?” Ryan asks once the buzzer has gone off.

 

There’s a comforting hand on his shoulder and Colin has to fight not to lean into it. “Yeah. Just had a blank. Sorry.”

 

“Hey, it’s okay. It happens to everybody.”

 

‘No, I’m sure it doesn’t, Ryan,’ Colin thinks. ‘Not everybody suddenly stops, when they’re on stage, to reflect on how cute you are when you smile at them.’ Colin closes his eyes briefly and tries to focus on what Clive is saying.

 

Unfortunately, these thoughts cross his mind all the time, and always at the most inopportune moments, bringing about visions that a man shouldn’t have about his best friend. Colin can’t believe he’s getting hard thinking of Ryan. He’s mortified. In fact, it happens so often that Colin thinks he must have lost quite a few I.Q. points because his thought processes have left his brain and relocated inside his pants. The little hamster isn’t running anymore, it’s too busy humping the wheel! Colin can think of little else and feels like a lovesick hormonal nerdy teenager with a big crush on the prettiest girl in the school. But it’s worse. He’s a balding married man in his late thirties in love with his best friend of 10 years. It’s beyond ridiculous.

 

Colin has always prided himself at being a smart and sensible person. Now, he calls himself an idiot a hundred times a day. He’s suddenly very tempted to bang his head on a wall so he can beat some sense into it. Only Colin knows the traitor’s not his head. And what does his heart know about common sense, anyway? He groans. “Oh God! This is NOT happening!”

 

But it is, and the next time Ryan hugs him, Colin doesn’t want to let go. He has an epiphany. This has been in the making for a long time. He finally understands why the hugs, the touches, the smiles always felt so good; always left him wanting more. There’s only so much ignoring your own desires your body can take before getting fed up and spelling it out for you. Colin sees it for what it is: a good kick in the teeth so that he finally starts paying attention. The rational part of him is amazed at the level of self-delusion a person can reach. How blind can be someone who just doesn’t want to see?

 

‘Apparently, denial really isn’t just a river in Egypt,’ he thinks with a tight smile. But as his feelings become obvious to him, Colin starts to wonder. If he can see it, maybe others can too. Maybe they know. Maybe Ryan knows.

 

“Shit!”

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

“Do you want another one?” Colin points at the bottle in his friend’s hands.

 

The man looks down in surprise, as if he’s forgotten it was even there. He takes a swig. “I’m fine. Go on.”

 

“Okay. Once I realized no one was treating me any differently, the panic started to subside.”

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Colin’s job might make him do and say crazy things but this is no joke to him and after all is said and done, he’s still stunned by this revelation. Colin’s glad no one knows he’s in love with Ryan. No one has to; he’ll make sure of that. He’ll keep it all to himself. Mum’s the word.

 

He has no idea how to get rid of those feelings – he’s not even sure he actually wants to – so he hopes that if he buries them deep enough, they might never resurface. Colin’s not completely delusional to be convinced it’ll work but he’s determined to spend every goddamn ounce of willpower he has trying. As long as he can keep how he feels from everyone else, everything will be all right. That’s what he keeps telling himself. He knows, however, that illusions are a wonderful thing but not to be trusted. Believing what you want doesn’t change reality but instead makes the noose which you’ll hang yourself with later.

 

At first, Colin is so vigilant he’s clearly becoming paranoid. Ryan isn’t just his friend, they also work together, and the amount of time Colin spends in his company scares him. It’s a recipe for disaster; a catastrophe in the making. Colin’s worried he’ll slip and that Ryan will find out. He’s convinced the sky’s about to fall on his head at any moment.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

“I was a nervous wreck. When I was back in Toronto, all I could think of was that I missed Ryan terribly. Now that I was with him in London, I had to fight myself not to jump away whenever he touched me. I had no one to turn to. I missed my family so much then, but I kept putting off calling home. I knew I would lie to her and I hated myself for it.” He sighs.  

 

“I was definitely on my way to a complete mental and nervous breakdown. That’s when my survival instincts finally kicked in. I decided the only way to deal with the situation was to train myself to react as if nothing was wrong.” Colin snorts derisively. “Yeah, easier said than done.”

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Now that Colin has acknowledged them, his feelings for Ryan are omnipresent. He can’t ignore them but he still tries. It takes a while but he gets used to denying a part of himself, keeping it locked up, confined to a little corner of his heart, of his brain, of any organ that will get involved if he so much as relents just for a moment. It’s all trial and errors but after a couple of years, he’s finally got it down to a science.

 

It’s a depressing thought but Colin is proud of how far he’s mastered his own emotions. It’s now a second nature. He’s become a regular Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. Whatever happens during the day, his control never slips. Colin knows he has the nights. Oh, the nights!  

 

Far away are the first jerk-off sessions. Now, Colin plays it out as far as his sanity allows him. He prolongs the pleasure for as long as he can handle, and then further. He drags it out until he simply can’t take it anymore. He discovers he actually has masochistic tendencies; he’s taken to spending more and more time in Ryan’s company. Ryan looks happy by this turn of events, but for Colin, this is compulsive; he can’t help it.

 

It hurts like hell when women flirt with Ryan – they all seem to – and he flirts back. Colin knows it doesn’t mean anything to Ryan and he doesn’t even have any right to be jealous, but he is, monstrously. The fact that no one notices anything is, unfortunately, of little comfort. So he gets back to his hotel room to drown it all in booze and smoke and he’s ready and back for more the next day. Thank you, Sir, may I have another!

 

He remembers his heart skipping a few beats when he first notices that the seat next to Ryan is always left empty, the others assuming it’s Colin’s. He likes that they now all associate the two of them. And Ryan seems to be seeking out his companionship more and more often. As any amount of time spent with him is fodder for the fantasies, Colin never says no. He’s addicted, and like any junkie, Colin lives for his next fix.

 

Every moment of Ryan’s knee touching his, of Ryan’s arm around his shoulders; every pat on his back, or when sometimes Ryan’s hand rests on Colin’s thigh as he emphasizes a point; every warm smile or look directed his way. Smells, sighs, laughs, tone of voice, all is recorded in detail. Ryan is his obsession and Colin revels in it. Colin’s memory has become his most powerful ally in this thirst of knowledge of all that is HIM. He’s enthralled by Ryan; his senses are on high alert when the man’s around. And Colin takes a sadistic pleasure in replaying it all at night, using his actions in more intimate settings. He’s always had one heck of an imagination, and he certainly knows how to use it. After all, it’s all he has. It’s pure torture but Colin finds that he’s a sucker for punishment.

 

Sometimes, after one of those nights, it gets too hard pretending and he almost hopes that Ryan finds out. Almost. He knows better. He knows to be careful what he wishes for.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

“There was a point when it became too much to handle. I needed something, anything to make me forget about him, to take me out of my skin just for a moment. I’d– I’d overheard someone at the studio mention a club.” Colin’s voice trails off. He clears his throat. “As I said, I needed something. So I thought that could do the trick.” It was obvious from his tone that it hadn’t.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Colin checks the address for the hundredth time, wondering if he’s got it right. His mind made up, he crosses the road and knocks on the anonymous-looking door. 

 

Two hours later, Colin is in the bathroom of his hotel room. He takes off his clothes, a bit gingerly, and let them fall to the floor. He stares at his reflection. His eyes trail down and he presses a finger to one of the now purplish bruises on his chest, hissing in pain at the touch. He turns around, twisting his head slightly so he can see the big angry welts on the usually unmarred skin. The sudden stinging behind his eyes is the only warning sign and Colin lunges for the toilet, barely wincing as his knees hit the cold hard tiles. There’s nothing in his stomach and it feels like it’s only bile burning his throat all the way down – or up, as the case may be.

 

After a few minutes of only dry heaves, Colin pulls himself up. He turns the water on, as hot as he can stand, and steps into the shower. He grabs the big loofa and starts scrubbing as hard as he can without pulling the skin off. It’s a few minutes before his jerky movements suddenly stop and he slides to the floor. The hot water is still pounding over his back but Colin doesn’t care anymore. He’s holding his knees to his chest, head buried in them as his body is wracked with sobs.

 

A while later, he slips his battered body between cool sheets and lets exhaustion claim him, clinging to the thought that tomorrow’s another day and things can’t get any worse.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

“By the time I was back in Toronto, it looked much better. I told her I took a fall down the stairs but Ryan didn’t know because, frankly, it was ridiculous and I was ashamed. Whether she saw through the lie, I don’t know. She berated me for not being careful but didn’t push it.”

 

There’s a deep feeling of sadness that Colin can’t shake when he thinks about that time in his life.  

 

“It was another year before I decided to go back there.”

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Colin is standing on the side of the road, a distinct feeling of déjà vu on his mind as he contemplates crossing to the other side. The place is still there and Colin feels a shiver run down his spine. He fingers the collar around his neck, carefully hidden under a buttoned-up shirt and a coat. ‘Who would think that such an innocuous-looking door can hide so much human agony?’ He’s only taken a step forward when a voice behind him makes his blood freeze in his veins.

 

“Don’t do it!”

 

Colin doesn’t have to turn around to know who the voice belongs to; he’d recognise those nasal inflictions anywhere. ‘But how?’

 

“Come on, Colin.” A hand on his shoulder urges him away from the pavement. “This is not for you.”

 

“I need…”

 

There a look of sadness on Greg’s face that Colin has never seen before. “You’re doing it for all the wrong reasons. You won’t find any answers here, believe me.” 

 

“I need–” Colin starts again.

 

“I know. Come on.” Colin lets Greg drag him away. It’s only when the car stops that he realises he doesn’t know where Greg’s taken him.

 

“My place. I signed the lease last week. I figured, as I’m planning on staying here a few years, you know,” Greg says, reading his thoughts. Colin just nods.

 

 

 

Colin’s tongue feels made of lead, so he sits there, staring into his drink. He starts when Greg moves to sit next to him.

 

“Can I take off your coat?”

 

Colin is about to refuse but fingers are already undoing buttons. A hand takes his drink away and the coat is pushed off his shoulders. He gasps as Greg then moves to his shirt.

 

“Shhh.”

 

Colin’s protest dies in his throat. Big scared brown eyes stare at dark-rimmed spectacles as the leather collar is unfastened from his neck and discarded. His sudden breath of air brings unbidden tears to his eyes and Colin has just enough time to see Greg’s face soften before he’s pulled into a tight embrace. He’d gone out earlier, expecting only pain and anger, so the sudden warmth and tenderness catches him unawares and his last barriers crumble. It’s been so long since he’s been held that way. He clings to Greg as everything he’s bottled up comes up to the surface and he finally lets go. Through the sobbing and the despair, he talks. It feels good to tell Greg everything.

 

 

 

“How did you know?” He asks, once he’s regained a bit of composure. 

 

“I knew something was wrong last year. The way you kept avoiding people touching you, I knew it had to be something like that. I just didn’t know which place, there’s loads of them here. So this time, I followed you. That place is not for you, Colin.”

 

Colin nods but still… “How would you know?”

 

“Because A) Self-flagellation is never a good thing, and B) I hate to sound cliché, Colin, but I’ve been there before. Believe me, I know.” The last words have such an air of finality that Colin is stunned for a moment. Greg’s smile has a tint of sadness. “A story for another time, my friend.”

 

“So what am I supposed to do now?” Colin asks, his voice almost a whisper, compared to Greg’s firm tone.

 

“You’re supposed to talk to me before it gets that bad. Or, you know, if you’d rather talk to someone else… Just don’t let it get to that point again. You have my numbers, so call me, okay? Whatever you say is just between us.” Greg waits until Colin finally acquiesces. “Good. Now, let me make a call and then we can get drunk until we pass out. You can stay here tonight, there’s a guest room somewhere.”

 

Greg keeps his eyes on Colin the whole time he’s on the phone.

“Hey, Ryan? How’s it going? … Yeah, I know, that’s why I’m calling. I kind of borrowed him for the evening. I needed to talk to him about something. We’re at my place but we’ve been drinking so I’m keeping him overnight, and yes, I’ll be taking advantage of him. … No, Ryan, we’ll be off having tea and scones while chatting about how the lilies are really beautiful this time of year. Of course I’ll drive him to the studio tomorrow, you idiot!” There a pause and then Greg puts on an exasperated sigh. “Yes, Mother Hen, I will take care of your little Canadian friend. Now, if you can fuck off, there’s a bottle with my name on it that won’t drink itself. Bye!”

 

Greg walks to his liquor cabinet. “So, same?”

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

TBC in part 2