Fic: Overcome, Day One

[kalimyre.livejournal.com]

Overcome

By emilyfairy and kalimyre

Rating: R

Pairing: Possibly Ryan/Colin, but so far it's gen with a hint of preslash

Summary: Ryan and Colin on Survivor. No, really.

Notes: It's important to explain that we didn't mean for this to happen. Also, emilyfairy started it. She made a post in her journal about various things, and mentioned that she'd had a dream where Colin and Ryan were on Survivor. And they were hiding in their tent to get away from all the filming and the rest of the tribe wouldn't go near them because they suspected things going on in that tent. I made a comment that included a little scene of them in said tent, and Emily replied with more of the scene, and pretty soon we had a story going, all in exchanged comments.

So here's the first day. Also, don't ask us why they're on Survivor. We don't know.



Colin and Ryan in a tent on Survivor... that works.

No, really. I can see them slinking inside this ramshackle homemade tent, some canvas thrown over tied together tree branches and it's tiny inside, especially for these two big guys. So they're kind of jammed together and it's hot out there in whatever tropical place they're doing the show in and they're in shorts and tee shirts except maybe not the shirts. I haven't decided yet.

And Ryan looks up when Colin crawls in and slides onto the sleeping mat next to him, wincing and wiping sweat off his forehead, and he says, "You too?"

Colin nods and says, "It's not like I'm not used to cameras, but..."

"Yeah," Ryan agrees. "It's nonstop, isn't it?"

"I keep thinking they expect me to do something," Colin grumbles. "What is there to do out here?"

"I know," Ryan says, half-laughing. "Survival sounds exciting and all, but it's really boring. Oooh, let's make a fire. Wow, look, we can tie tree branches together. I mashed up some grubs for dinner, everybody party."

Colin snorts, shaking his head. "We better not be having grubs. There's rice or something, isn't there?"

"Rice. Thrilling," Ryan says dryly. He yawns, wriggling in the tent and trying to stretch his legs out. His knees bump against Colin's and Colin shifts, curling until he fits comfortably against Ryan's side.

"Taking a nap?" Colin asks.

"Yeah, probably. They can make television history without us for a while."

Colin nods, already sleepy and limp from the heat of the day, glad of the faint breeze that sneaks beneath the crooked flap of canvas and cools the sweat on his skin. He can hear the others talking, faintly, and he's fairly sure they're speculating about what he and Ryan are doing, but he can live with that. People have been guessing for years about them, after all.

…

And it's so nice for Colin to just lie next to Ryan, without having to worry about the stupid cameras following him everywhere, recording his every move. Like he's a trained circus seal instead of a human being. Although wasn't he a circus seal on the show once? Maybe. All the games kind of run together in his head after a while.

"I thought this would be like a vacation," Ryan mutters.

"You thought 'Survivor' would be a vacation?" Colin bursts out laughing as he props his head up to look at Ryan.

Ryan flops over on his side, facing Colin. "Well, you know, beautiful locale, girls in bikinis, lots of games... Instead I get stuck in a tent with you. And bugs. And it's so damn hot that I don't want to move, and I'm so hungry that tree bark's starting to look good..."

"Maybe we can add some to the rice tonight," Colin says.

Ryan wrinkles his nose. "Nah. I'm not that desperate. Give me a few more days."

"In a few more days you'll be gnawing off your own arm," Colin says, picking it up and squeezing it thoughtfully. "Hmm, on second thought, too bony."

Ryan wrenches his arm away, giving Colin a wounded look. "Maybe I'll cook it up on your shiny head."

"You better be nice to me," Colin says. "Or tonight I'm gonna let your ass freeze."

Ryan wraps his arms around Colin. "No, you won't. 'Cause you need me too."

Colin loves it when he and Ryan easily fall into teasing each other like this. He's glad that if he has to be stuck on a sadistic game show miles from home, at least he's here with Ryan. And when Ryan hugs him he suddenly doesn't mind the heat or the cameras or the constant speculating of the other players. Because it's like having a little piece of home, here with him.

…

"I don't think they like us very much," Colin says later that evening, when they're awake but still hiding in the tent. There's a fire sputtering not too far away, and the silhouettes of the rest of their "tribe" are thrown against the tent walls, misshapen and hypnotic.

"And I'm all broken up about it," Ryan mutters, one arm flung over his eyes. Some of the heat has leached from the day, and the breeze has a slight bite to it now; a small hint of the chilly night to come.

"Maybe we should try to make friends."

Ryan lifts his head, giving Colin a smile that is a little disbelieving, but mostly affectionate. "You hate when people don't like you, don't you?"

Colin shifts, shrugging. "No, it's just... I mean, we're here, we might as well try a little."

"Nah," Ryan says, resting a hand on Colin's stomach. "If they hate us, they'll vote us off sooner and we can go home."

"Hmm." Colin smiles, lacing his hands behind his head, pleasantly aware of Ryan's fingertips skating along the hem of his shirt, almost tickling. "I could go for a hot shower right about now."

"I know," Ryan says, wrinkling his nose.

"Oh, shut up," Colin laughs, kicking Ryan's leg lightly where it rests against his. "Like you're a bed of roses."

Ryan is about to reply when there is a rustling outside their tent, and Matt, the self-appointed tribal chief, sticks his head in. "Um, hey," Matt says, glancing uncomfortably at Ryan's hand, the fingertips just tucked below the waist of Colin's shorts now.

"Hey," Ryan says, and although he feels Colin's belly tense, he doesn't move his hand. "Did you want something?"

"Well, you know, we do expect everyone to contribute," Matt begins, frowning. "Did you two come up with anything for dinner?"

"We were just discussing that," Colin says, biting back a smile. "Recipies, you know. Have you ever tried tree bark and grubs?"

Matt grimaces, and the irritated line between his eyebrows deepens. "You didn't catch any fish today, did you?"

Colin and Ryan look around the tent, peering into the corners. "Did we?" Ryan asks, bright and innocent.

"You know, I don't think we did." Colin smiles sweetly up at Matt. "Sorry."

Matt huffs and withdraws from the tent, making a futile effort to slam the canvas flap. Ryan snickers, curling against Colin's side, his chest shaking where it is pressed against Colin's arm. "Oh yeah," he says. "We're so out of here."

"I thought he liked us," Colin says, affecting a wounded tone. "Why wouldn't he like us?"

And Ryan throws an arm over Colin's chest and squeezes him, laughing until Colin gives in and laughs with him.

…

Colin exchanges uneasy glances with Ryan. It's dinnertime, and unsurprisingly, no one liked their tree bark and grub suggestions. They're eating the fish that Matt caught, because he's the big strong chest beating provider of their tribe. Colin wonders to himself if maybe they'd eat Ryan's arm. Judging from the stony stares directed at them, he's thinking they might, if given the opportunity.

"I'm guessing none of them are fans," Ryan whispers out of the corner of his mouth.

Colin scoots closer to Ryan until their knees are touching, needing the contact. "Not that we have anything to sign autographs with anyway."

The cameras circle around them in the darkness, and Colin wants to retreat back to the safety of the tent. For some reason, no one will film them while they're in there. Colin grins as he lets his hand lightly brush Ryan's knee. He can't imagine why.

"We could find something," Ryan says. "We're supposed to be survivors, right?"

"Oh. Yeah," Colin says sarcastically, knocking Ryan upside the head. "Maybe someone left a Sharpie out here somewhere."

"I was thinking sticks in the dirt."

"What good would that be?" Colin gives Ryan an exasperated look.

Ryan shoves him. "Well, I don't see you coming up with anything better."

"Maybe... mud," Colin says. "We could write using mud."

He pauses, thinking of writing his name on Ryan's bare chest in mud. How it would feel all soft and squishy between his fingers as he spelled out each letter, marking Ryan as his own. He imagines himself blowing it dry, his breath tickling across Ryan's chest, and Ryan shivering…

"Mud, huh?" Ryan laughs while he gives Colin a speculative look, like he's wondering what Colin is thinking.

"It was just a thought," Colin says.

He bites his lip, grateful that the cameras have moved away and it's dark enough that Ryan can't see the blush on his face. There is no way that Ryan will ever find out, not even if he tickle tortures him for hours tonight. He busies himself with eating more of the tasteless fish, and prays that he will be able to get through the rest of the night without anymore trouble.

…

They almost make it back to their tent unscathed. Almost, except for the camera crew that cuts them off and waves a microphone in their faces and asks in a forced, polite way that is not really asking at all if they'd do an interview. Colin sighs and puts on a good-natured smile, aware of Matt and the others glaring at them from the other side of the campsite and Ryan glaring right back, his lips in a hard line.

"Sure," Colin says, before Ryan can make the kind of biting comment Colin can sense trapped behind his tightly clenched jaw.

So the crew does some rearranging and plays with the lighting and makes them go back to the fire for the flickering reality of it all, and they sit on a rock and look at the camera. Colin is aware of Ryan's shoulder jostling his, of Ryan's warmth in the rapidly cooling evening, and he's also aware this is all very orchestrated, the angle and the light all set to show exactly how closely they're pressed together.

"Can you share any feelings or predictions about your fellow tribe members?" the director asks, leaning in eagerly.

"I don't think they like us," Ryan says plainly. "Can't imagine why."

"It's a mystery," Colin adds, feeling just a little pleased at the way the director sighs and shakes his head.

"Do you feel there's friction within the tribe?"

Ryan shrugs. Colin smiles sweetly. "Maybe we don't play well with others," he says, and he knows it's petty, tweaking the director this way, but he's tired and sticky and sick of people following him around and wanting to pry into his life. Even if he did kind of sign on for it this time.

"Who do you think will be the next one voted off?"

This time Colin shrugs, tilting his chin slightly toward Ryan, who takes the hint ably. "Probably me," he says, perfectly bland. "Maybe I should have caught a fish."

The director nods, quirking his eyebrows a little as if Ryan has just stated the blatantly obvious. "And how do you feel about that?"

"I feel like I'm going to be eating something better than burned rice."

The director closes his eyes for a moment before rallying, and he turns back to Colin. "What about you? You two have quickly become a pair, separate from the others. How will you deal with it if Ryan is voted off and you have to integrate with the tribe?"

Colin blinks, startled. Because of course they won't be leaving at the same time, of course it doesn't work that way and he knew that, he did, but... he hasn't really thought about it. About being stuck out here for at least a week with people who don't like him and trying to stay warm at night alone.

"I, uh," he says, shrugging. "I don't know."

"That's enough," Ryan says, rising to his feet and pulling Colin along. "We're going to sleep now."

They leave the camera crew behind, flustered and trying to unhook lights and catch up, but they're in the tent before the pursuit can trap them again. Ryan stretches out and immediately rolls to his side, pulling Colin in against his chest and rubbing his back.

Colin gives him a questioning blink, and Ryan smiles. "I'm cold," he says, as if he needs an excuse.

"Me too," Colin says, burrowing close. The ground is hard and unforgiving and the tent does nothing to keep mosquitoes out, but Ryan's shoulder makes a warm and resilient pillow and his arms are enough to ward off the chill.

Colin closes his eyes and hopes--a little guiltily--that he is the first one sent home and not the one left behind.

…

"You know," Ryan says, and Colin's stomach lurches. When Ryan says something in that tone of voice, it's never good.

He sighs and moves his head away from Ryan's chest, whimpering at the loss of heat. "What?"

Ryan rubs Colin's shivering arms. "I was thinking..."

"I figured that out already." Colin knows that he is being a little impatient tonight, but he is so hungry and tired and confused that he's not completely himself right now. He hopes that Ryan will realize that and forgive him.

"We don't have to get voted off," Ryan says, and his deep voice soothes Colin, taking a little of the edge off his anxiety. "I'm not sure I want to leave just yet. C'mon, do you really want an asshole like Matt to win this thing?"

"Well, no. But it's not like we need the money," Colin says, tugging down the sleeves of his shirt to cover his freezing hands.

Ryan pulls Colin's hands underneath his shirt, and warmth curls all the way down to Colin's toes as he flattens his palms against the smooth skin of Ryan's stomach. "We could donate it, if we win. To our favorite charities. Wouldn't that be great?"

Colin smiles. Ryan is a dreamer, always has been, even though he hides it from everyone else. "That would be an amazing thing to do," he says. "But isn't it kinda too late? They already hate us. They're not gonna keep us around."

"Yeah, but we've got one advantage they don't have..." Ryan says, leaning against Colin's forehead.

"What's that?"

"Privacy," Ryan breathes. "We can say whatever we want in this tent. We can strategize. And anyway, you're lovable, at least. I bet we could make them like you if we tried."

Colin wrinkles his nose. "I'm not sure I want them to like me."

Ryan curls into a laugh, giving Colin a fond look. "Liar."

"Okay, maybe I want them to like me, but--"

"I knew it!" Ryan tickles Colin's ribs.

Colin gasps, and his fingers bunch into the top of Ryan's shorts. Sometimes he wonders if Ryan enjoys torturing him like this. He lets out a shaky breath and says, "Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to try. But don't expect a miracle, okay?"

"Okay," Ryan agrees, beaming. "Now get over here. I'm still cold."

"How much closer can I possibly get?"

"Much closer," Ryan whispers, pushing against him until every inch of their bodies are wrapped around each other.

Colin snuggles deeper into Ryan's arms, burying his head back into Ryan's chest, smelling sweat and sand and something else that belongs only to Ryan. Colin closes his eyes, pressing his temple against the place where he can feel Ryan's heartbeat, and he feels like he is covered in a blanket of Ryan.

Ryan's hands skate along Colin's back, before they duck underneath his shirt. Colin hisses when Ryan's cold fingers touch his bare back, and he senses rather than sees Ryan's shrug of apology. Colin's hands are still on Ryan's stomach, tracing lazy circles around his navel. He loves how the fuzz of Ryan's hair tickles his fingertips.

They both sigh, and Colin knows they are warm at last. In fact, Colin feels almost hot, having Ryan this close, but he doesn't mind.

He mulls over this new turn of events. Tomorrow is the immunity challenge. If they can win it, then maybe it will buy them enough time to maybe make a couple friends on the tribe.

And if they lose, well... At least they'll be one step closer to having a hot shower and a decent meal.

…


emilyfairy has Day Two to post once it's finished, and after that, we'll be starting each successive day here on the comm, and continuing to write in comments. Because we're hooked on the silly.