Flight of Fancy, part 4/11

[kalimyre.livejournal.com]

Flight of Fancy

By kalimyre

Pairing: Ryan/Colin

Rating: R

Category: First time, romance, AU

Summary: In which there is a hotel room, virtual cooking, and a mention of the Vulcan nerve pinch.

Notes: You all know this already, but clayangel rocks in too many ways to count. Thanks to her, and to indybaggins, who made writing this fun with her enthusiasm. Thanks also to anesthesiagirl, who is honest and thought provoking and made me look hard at this chapter (even though I was stubborn and left it my way).

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Part 4

The first day of Detroit shows was actually fun at times, mostly because of the chance to work with a few other presenters. While they didn’t perform together, exactly, there was more than one show happening at once, and those attending the conference split their attention between the various displays. Colin didn’t feel as if all the pressure was on him, and it was a relief to not be the complete focus.

It was also interesting to see how other people did the same job, and Colin noticed that most of them had a great deal more flash in terms of fancy knife work, rapid movement, and presentation. He tended to rely more on his ability to charm an audience and endear himself to them, although his food came out tasting just as good as those with showier technique.

Jamie was a hummingbird, flitting from display to display, watching over his other “talents” and smoothing out any wrinkles in the process. Colin felt tired just watching him; he liked to concentrate on one thing at a time, rather than multitask wildly the way Jamie did, and it was dizzying being in the same room with the man.

The crowd was friendly and enthusiastic and because the whole thing was orchestrated by Kitchen Tech, all his equipment was top rate and the food supplies specific to his personal recipes. The job was relatively easy, except for the part where his audience kept changing as people wandered off and more arrived, so his trademark running gags were lost on a lot of people who hadn’t been around long enough to appreciate them. There were breaks during the day, and a chance to walk around and see the other shows, but for the most part it was fast, intense work and by late afternoon he was ready to flop on the nearest horizontal surface and sleep for two days straight.

“How’re you doing?” Jamie asked, approaching as Colin was hoping to slip from the conference center unnoticed.

“Fine,” Colin said. “Just finished my last show.”

“Yes, mmm-hmm, I saw that,” Jamie agreed, falling into step beside him. “You were great today buddy, I loved the bit with that flambé, where you pretended like you were going to set fire to the tablecloth. That was a hit, where’d you come up with it? And your numbers are looking fantastic, already we’re seeing a lot of action on the juicer, you must’ve done some amazing stuff with it. I mean, it’s a juicer, how exciting can that be? You’re fabulous, really you are. You know you’re my favorite talent, right? Don’t I always look out for you first? Sure I do. Anyway, I got that hotel I told you about all worked out, a nice suite, you should be comfortable there. You headed to the room now? Do you need a ride? I could find you a ride.”

“The hotel is two blocks away,” Colin said, biting back a smile. “I think I can make it.”

Jamie came to a dead stop and turned, staring at him. “You’re going to walk?”

“Shocking, I know,” Colin replied dryly. “Most people actually do get around that way. It’s why we have legs.”

“But... half the audience is still leaving, they’re all over. You’ll be mobbed.”

“I doubt that.” Colin sighed and patted Jamie’s shoulder. “Come on, it’s not like I’m a rock star. I’ll wear my ball cap and walk right past everyone and they’ll never notice.”

“But they might,” Jamie protested. “They might see you, and how does that look, the big star walking to his hotel? Come on, let me get a car for you. It won’t take long at all, and you can go out the front, wave to a few people, it’ll be much better presentation. Please, Colin? Humor me on this one?”

Colin opened his mouth, ready to acquiesce as he always did, and then shut it again, shaking his head. “You know what? No. Not this time. I’m tired and I’m done with ‘presentation’ for today. I’m walking.”

Jamie blinked, pulling back slightly, and Colin was amused to see his manager speechless for probably the first time ever. “Well,” Jamie said after a long moment. “I guess... if you feel so strongly about it, of course. And you must be tired, I know the schedule has been crazy lately, maybe I could arrange some time off after the conference? I’ll do that, buddy, you don’t worry about a thing. I’m on it.” He nodded sharply and sped off down the hallway, back toward the noise and bustle of the convention floor.

“Huh,” Colin murmured to himself. He ambled toward the doors, suddenly feeling lighter. It was a bit surprising to find he could get his way so easily, and he supposed he’d never really pushed it before, for fear of being dropped in favor of someone younger, better looking, and more cooperative. But he really did have a certain amount of pull after all; his fan base was strong and he knew he was good at his job, flash or not.

It was sunset outside, the brief warmth of the day rapidly bleeding away. There were a few conference goers milling around on the sidewalk, but Colin pulled his cap low, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and walked past without incident. Once he reached the corner, he slowed his pace and enjoyed the crisp evening air, looking up at the sky. He could see the beginnings of dusk, the western horizon a brilliant orange and gold while behind him the sky was fading to deep purples. He wondered what it would look like from the air, without all the buildings obscuring the sight.

Maybe he’d get to find out next time he flew with Ryan. Or he could just ask; he was sure Ryan got to see that kind of thing all the time. It would be great, Colin thought, to have that kind of freedom.

He turned into the hotel lobby with some regret, wishing he could stay out in the fresh air and relative quiet a bit longer. Jamie had checked him in already, and given Colin a key; he slipped a hand in his pocket and felt for it as he crossed to the elevators, head lowered again to avoid possible recognition.

“Hey.”

Colin stopped and looked up, smiling before he even saw Ryan. “Hey.” Then he paused, tilting his head curiously. “Why...?”

Ryan shrugged. In his jeans and sweatshirt, he looked out of place and uncomfortable in the richly appointed lobby. He shifted his weight back and forth, and his smile was nervous, tentative. “Weren’t we going to do the cooking thing tonight?”

Colin looked at him blankly for a moment, and then nodded. “Oh, right! I’m sorry, I completely forgot. It’s been a really long day, and I had this... well, not argument, exactly, but this thing with Jamie and I guess I was distracted...” He trailed off, waving one hand vaguely.

“That’s okay,” Ryan said. “No biggie, you’ve got to be beat after doing those shows all day. From what I could tell, you barely got to sit down.”

“You were there?”

“Um.” Ryan shuffled his feet a little. “I hung around a little, yeah. Beats sitting in the hotel room, right?”

“Right,” Colin said, smiling knowingly. “What did you think?”

“Wasn’t bad. I liked those cherry things you made.”

“They’re easy enough to do.” Colin stepped close to Ryan and tugged at his elbow, drawing him toward the elevators. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

“Really?” Ryan grinned and hurried to walk beside him, their shoulders brushing together easily with each step. “You even have food in your room?”

“Well, no,” Colin admitted. “It’ll have to be theoretical.”

“Hmm,” Ryan said, affecting a sad look. “And here I was hoping for a free dinner.”

“Now the truth comes out,” Colin replied as they got into the elevator. “I should have known you were only using me for my cooking.”

“It’s part of my master plan,” Ryan agreed. “I figure I can steal all your recipes and sort of sneak into your job. It’ll give me something to do after you’ve knocked me out and taken my plane.”

“I’m not sure I’m getting the good end of this deal,” Colin said, frowning. “But I do get to knock you out... do you have a preference? Taser? Sneak you a few drugs? Maybe a Vulcan nerve pinch?”

Ryan snorted and leaned against the wall as Colin opened the room door. “You seem to have put a lot of thought into this.”

Colin flashed him an enigmatic look and said nothing. Ryan was still chuckling as he trailed Colin into the room, and then he stopped, freezing two steps in.

“Nice,” he said, slowly turning to take in the whole view. “Definitely better than the place I’m staying.”

Unsure of what to say, Colin just shrugged and let Ryan look. It was a nice room, he supposed, although he’d stayed in better places. There was a living area, with two wine red plush couches and a large TV set, a long cherry wood desk with pale lamps at either end and a big leather desk chair. The kitchen gleamed with stainless steel, the floor golden polished oak, the counters dark brown stone. A door led off to the bedroom, where two queen beds sat side by side, layered in pristine white bedding and at least five pillows each. The carpet was an ordinary tan, but thick enough to make him want to take his shoes off and sink his toes in.

It was what he was used to, but seeing Ryan look around, mouth slightly open, it occurred to Colin that somewhere along the line he’d become a rich man. He appreciated the niceties, of course, being able to outfit his kitchen at home with the best equipment, to own his house free and clear, but they were only things. Pretty things, but mostly meaningless. Colin thought he’d like to show Ryan his home sometime, to share all the accumulated stuff and give it some purpose.

“So,” Colin said, catching Ryan’s attention again. “Sorry I can’t offer home cooking, but would you like takeout?”

Ryan grinned. “You read my mind. How about Italian?”

“Perfect.” Colin found the phone book and skimmed the restaurant section until he found a likely looking place. He was aware of Ryan poking around a little while he ordered, opening cupboards in the kitchen and running his fingertips along the smooth finish of the desk, relishing the sleek texture.

“Now I definitely need to steal your job,” Ryan said once Colin was off the phone. “If it gets rooms like this. I think I’m in the local Econolodge.”

Colin shifted, a bit uncomfortable with the edge of envy in Ryan’s voice. “Yeah, well...” He shrugged. “I’m usually too tired to enjoy it. It’s just a place to sleep.”

“So let’s do some theory,” Ryan said brightly, and even if it was a transparent effort to ease the tension, it worked anyway. “There’s a bunch of dishes and stuff in the kitchen, so I guess we can sort of pretend we have food.”

“Nah,” Colin said, waving a hand. “We don’t need props.” He crossed the room and headed for the bedroom, gesturing for Ryan to follow. “Let’s see if I have a balcony.”

“Okay...” Ryan looked puzzled but followed readily enough, stepping out onto the small balcony and watching as Colin sank into one of the chairs and slipped his shoes off.

Colin took a deep breath, leaned back in the chair, and propped his socked feet up on the railing. “Okay, that’s better. Come on, have a seat. Relax.”

Ryan did as he asked, and soon they were sitting quietly, looking out at the sea of lights below and the rapidly darkening sky above, the horizon a blurred line between them. Colin was aware of the faint sounds of traffic drifting up from the street, but they were distant and detached, from another world. He could also hear Ryan’s steady breathing beside him and thought, if he concentrated very hard, he’d feel the warmth coming from the other man, rising off his skin in waves.

“The first thing,” Colin said after a while, “is to cook for yourself. Make what you like, not what the book says it should be and not what your mother always made. Don’t be afraid to experiment. And if it’s awful, remember what not to do next time.”

“Have you ever made anything awful?”

“All the time,” Colin replied, smiling ruefully. “I still have disasters where I have to throw everything out and open all the windows in the kitchen until the smell clears. But that’s how it is, you try and sometimes you screw up, but you just have to give it another shot.”

“Hmm.” Ryan sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “Is this cooking or self-help?”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Colin said, but he couldn’t quite pull off the tone of reprimand.

“Sorry, can’t help it,” Ryan said, not sounding sorry at all. “It’s genetic, I think. If I ever have kids, I shudder to think what they’ll be like.”

“I don’t know about the genetic thing. I’m pretty much the black sheep in my family. My brother and sister both have ‘real’ jobs... according to our parents, anyway.” Colin caught his eyes sleepily drifting shut and drew a quick breath of the cool night air, trying to wake himself up.

“We’re all pilots,” Ryan said quietly. “It’s kind of a requirement when you’re a Stiles. Pilot or nothing.”

“Oh.” Colin looked at Ryan, but the other man was staring off into space, eyes glittering faintly in the twilight. “So that’s why...”

“Yeah.” Ryan shifted in his seat, lacing his hands together in the lap and tugging them apart again, a fretful motion. “I wasn’t always, actually. I learned about five years ago, after my sister died.”

Colin opened his mouth, then shut it again, not sure what to say. “She was Sarabeth, wasn’t she?” he guessed, almost certain he was right.

Ryan darted him a quick, unreadable look before returning his gaze to the distant skyscrapers. “Yeah. And she loved to fly. That’s her plane, actually.”

“How...?”

“Now how you’d think,” Ryan said, obviously understanding the question. “I mean, it’d make sense, in a soap opera way, if she’d died in a plane crash. Then I’d have a reason to hate flying and do it anyway, kind of a tribute thing, right?” He shook his head. “It was leukemia. She was the baby of the family, only twenty-six. And I’ve been afraid of flying for my whole life, but I do it now because...” He trailed off and Colin could see him biting his lip. He leaned a little closer, letting one hand rest on Ryan’s forearm, and the other man smiled at him, quick and liquid. “I can’t really explain it,” he said. “It’s... complicated, I guess.”

“It’s all right,” Colin told him. Ryan nodded and said nothing, but he covered Colin’s hand on his arm with his own palm, warm and heavy in the chill air.

“Um,” Ryan said, when his breathing had steadied a bit. “I think we got off track a little, huh? Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s fine,” Colin said briskly, giving Ryan’s wrist a squeeze before pulling his hand back. “I don’t think my lesson was making much sense anyway. I guess it’s hard to teach theoretical cooking.”

Ryan laughed a little, then shivered, hunching his shoulders. “Maybe we should go inside.”

“Sure.” Colin went straight to the kitchen and busied himself, laying out dishes and silverware for when the food arrived, aware of Ryan looking out the window and taking deep, careful breaths. He fiddled with things until Ryan came to stand by him, bumping into his side not quite accidentally.

“So,” Ryan said, clearing his throat. He looked composed, but Colin caught the tension around his eyes, the slight flush to his cheeks.

“So.” Colin looked up at him through his eyelashes and tried for his best sweet smile, because it always seemed to put people at ease. Ryan’s eyes flicked over his face, and he lifted one eyebrow.

“You’ve got dimples,” he said.

Colin immediately dropped the smile. “If you tell me I’m cute, I will have to kill you.”

“Cute isn’t nearly enough. I was thinking along the lines of adorable. Maybe even precious.”

“Okay, that’s it,” Colin started, but Ryan was already darting away, slipping around the side of the couch and hiding behind it, his eyes sparkling with laughter.

“Can’t catch me,” he taunted, sing-song, and it was ridiculous, they were both over forty and Colin was tired and the whole thing was foolish and they’d known each other for barely a week and Colin chased him anyway, whooping like a kid.

Ryan kept the couch between them until Colin gave up on going around and just climbed over, shoving the cushions out of place and landing on both feet with a solid thump. Ryan wrapped one hand around the door frame and used it to slingshot into the bedroom, jumping up on one of the beds. Colin leaped after him, landing full length on the mattress with his arms locked around Ryan’s shins. Ryan tried to pull away and lost his balance, nearly taking a header onto the floor, but Colin yanked as hard as he could and Ryan wound up sprawled half on the bed and half off, teetering precariously.

There was a brief scramble and when Colin opened his eyes again, he was tangled in a pile of pillows and limbs, Ryan’s arm around his chest and a bit of blanket trying to poke into his mouth. Colin twisted and managed to turn onto his back, but Ryan refused to give up so easily and held him there, neatly pinned, every bit as strong as Colin thought he’d be.

“Gotcha,” Ryan gloated, out of breath and grinning madly.

Colin blinked up at him and found nothing to say, his mind spinning and getting nowhere. Ryan was bright with energy, hair mussed and face flushed, panting for breath. One hand on Colin’s shoulder, pressing him into the mattress, another pinning his wrist over his head. A knee between his thighs until Ryan seemed to realize it and pulled back, smiling nervously.

“Um,” he said, letting Colin and perching on the edge of the bed. “I, uh...”

“It’s okay,” Colin began, propping himself up on his elbows. He could still feel his heart thumping, blood rushing everywhere in his body and filling him with sparking heat. “It was fun.”

Ryan’s mouth curled into a half-smile. “Yeah, it was. Hey, do you think...”

But he didn’t get to finish his question, because there was a knock at the door and he jumped up, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll get it,” he said quickly.

“It’s the food,” Colin replied, getting to his feet. “And I’m getting it. I did promise you a meal, after all.”

He beat Ryan to the front door and accepted the warm, aromatic containers, digging for his wallet in his pants. Ryan took the food and began laying it out on the table, opening everything and beginning to dish it up. Once he’d paid the deliveryman, Colin joined him, digging in eagerly. He found it ironic that he’d worked at a food and cooking convention all day and barely had anything to eat. Between the performance nerves and the demanding schedule, he hadn’t had the time or the inclination to have more than the few bites necessary to taste the recipes.

Colin gave Ryan an impromptu lesson on their meal, from the garlic bread (fresh baked, and the crust should be chewy, not hard or crisp) to the lasagna (important to have the right balance of ingredients and go easy on the seasonings, especially garlic, so no one flavor overpowers all the others) and even the dessert, which was tiramisu. “The mascarpone cheese is a change from the traditional recipe,” Colin said, waving his spoon for emphasis, “which called for custard. It’s a triple crème cheese that’s actually made from the milk of cows fed special grasses mixed with herbs and flowers. Gives the cheese a unique, delicate taste.”

“Mmm,” Ryan said, taking another bite of the confection. “Fantastic. Does it have alcohol in it?”

“A little, yes. Tastes like they used rum, which is fine, but I tend to prefer brandy with this. There’s also a bit of espresso on the ladyfingers; not soaked, you understand, just enough to give it the right touch. This is actually quite well done; I’ll have to remember that restaurant. It’s an easy recipe to screw up.”

“I don’t know how you keep track of all that stuff,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “It’s like rocket science.”

“More like chemistry,” Colin said lightly, but he was watching Ryan and felt sure the other man understood more than he let on. He didn’t know why Ryan wanted to act as if this was over his head, but Colin was willing to go along with it until he knew more.

Colin had ordered a bottle of wine with the food and they shared it, moving to the couch and sipping slowly once the meal was over. Colin felt full and sleepy and peaceful, Ryan’s voice a calming rhythm, a steady presence at his side. He didn’t realize he’d nodded off until he roused and found Ryan watching him, a faint smile playing around his mouth.

“Did I fall asleep?” Colin asked, embarrassed.

“A little bit.” Ryan was trying to suppress a grin without much success. “I don’t mind, really. I’m half asleep myself.”

“Mmm.” Colin rubbed his eyes and glanced toward the bedroom. “It’s getting late.”

Ryan took the hint and stood, offering Colin a hand up. “Yeah, we should both get some sleep. Although I’ve got to admit, it’s kind of a let down going back to my hotel from here.” He laughed when he said it, but his eyes were serious, and Colin made a decision with barely a second’s thought.

“Stay here,” he said.

Ryan’s eyes widened and his hand tightened hard around Colin’s for a moment before letting go. “You... are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Colin said, and he was. “There’s an extra bed, after all, and I really wouldn’t mind. Besides, you’re going to the conference again tomorrow, right?” Ryan nodded, so Colin continued, “Then it would be silly going all the way back to your hotel just to sleep, then coming back here in the morning. Save time. Stay.”

“Okay,” Ryan said slowly. “Sounds good.”

And he followed Colin into the bedroom.

~~~

On to part 5