[Fic] The Course Of True Love - Part 3/4

[jie-jie.livejournal.com]

Title: The Course Of True Love - Part 3/4
Author: Jie Jie
Rating: PG
Pairings: Colin/Ryan
Wordcount: 2830
Summary: Ryan and Colin's relationship breaks down. Can they pick up the pieces?

A/N - Sorry for the rather large delay! Am not particularly happy with this chapter but it ain't getting any better!  So apologies in advance.  Things do get a bit darker in his part, fluff bunnies be warned!


A week had passed since Colin's first Whose Live show in Los Angeles. Things between him and Ryan had calmed somewhat. Neither of them mentioned the Greg or Brad incidents and both seemed content to pretend that they were just good friends for now. The temporary truce had come as a major relief for the other half of their comedy foursome. Great improv relied on the performers knowing and trusting each other. Being funny on demand was hard enough without disturbances in the group. The tour had moved on and the four men had settled into a good rhythm.

“Next up we have a game called Whose Line,” Greg was at the microphone again, conducting the show with ease. “Some of you down the front here should have written a random line onto the strips of paper you were given when you came in. If you could pass them to our lovely stage hand, Julia, that'd be great.” A perky blonde with a small wicker basket hurriedly collected the lines and handed them to Greg. All of the performers stepped forward to take some lines and stuff them in their pockets. “So, what's gonna happen is this: we're going to act out a scene and every so often we're gonna have to use one of these lines here and hopefully make it fit the scene. First I need a place that scares you.”

“Prison!”

“Cemetery!”

“Circus!”

“Man, I'd love to know what kind of fucked up circus you've been going to,” Greg grinned at the crowd. “Prison was the first thing I heard so that's what we'll go with. Colin and Jeff are gonna start us off, take it away guys.”

Jeff raised his hands and rested them against an imaginary wall, assuming the traditional pat down position. Colin crossed his arms across his chest, becoming a prison guard.

“You know, I'm only in here for jaywalking,” Jeff said as he looked over his shoulder. “I don't think the full cavity search was really necessary.” He abandoned his spread eagled position and mimed pulling on his clothes.

“We offer a full service here at Alcatraz,” Colin said with a customer service smile. He pulled off an invisible glove from his left hand. “Our facilities include an open air gym and full communal showers.” Colin finished with a suggestive wink.

“I shouldn't be here, man!”

“Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say.”

“Why didn't I listen to my mother?” Jeff wondered out loud, setting himself up for a line of audience dialogue.

“What did she say?”

“She said...” Jeff unfolded a piece of paper and read the printed words. “'Never eat yellow snow'...but I did, I did, and now I'm going to die in here.”

“There, there,” Colin patted Jeff's arm. “You know when I feel sad I always say to myself...” He pulled out a piece of paper and read it. He blinked and read it again, not quite believing his own eyes.

“Well?” Jeff prompted. “What do you say?” Colin screwed up the line and shoved in back into his pocket.

“I can't tell you that.”

Jeff's eyebrows shot up in disbelief at the dodge. Usually Colin would say anything and everything on stage, he could always work it to get a laugh. He had to know what was on that piece of paper. As nonchalantly as possible he walked closer to Colin and when he was within striking distance he pounced, hand dipping into Colin's pocket and retrieving the crumpled line. Colin was struggling to get it back from him but Jeff used his superior speed to dodge out of the other man's reach. With a wicked grin on his face he uncreased the paper and read the words printed on it in precise handwriting.

God hates faggots.

The smile disappeared from Jeff's face. He turned to look at Colin with dark eyes that were wide with shock. They'd had some pretty bad lines over the years, some of them anatomically incorrect, but nothing like that. Colin gave him an apologetic shrug which made Jeff frown. Why was he apologising?

“See, I told you I couldn't say it,” Colin said, his tone of voice suggesting that it was too smutty too read out loud. The audience seemed to be lapping it up and so Jeff let it go though he could see Greg and Ryan looking at them curiously from the sidelines. He crumpled the paper and stuffed it in his back pocket where he felt it burning for the rest of the show.

*

After the show the four comedians found themselves in a small bohemian type bar. Colin only stayed for one drink before excusing himself, claiming a headache. Jeff, Greg and Ryan carried on without him. It was Ryan's round and as such he was over at the packed bar, waiting impatiently to be served.

“So what the hell was Colin's suggestion?” Greg asked, leaning halfway across the table. It was obvious that he'd been holding that question in for the last few hours. Jeff hesitated for a moment before pulling the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and tossing it in Greg's direction. Greg rescued the paper from the damp table top and unfolded it.

“God hates faggots,” Greg's voice dripped with distaste. “What the fuck is wrong with people? No wonder Col refused to read it.”

“He just took it in his stride,” Jeff pointed out. “You think he's been getting this kind of thing a lot?”

“It's not exactly out of the realm of possibility. This country swings that little bit more to the right every god damned day.” Jeff couldn't help but smile a little, he loved it when Greg got riled. One thing that was sure to get him going was persecution and narrow mindedness of any sort.

“Drink's up!” Ryan announced as he placed the drinks on the table. Greg and Jeff froze, neither sure if they wanted Ryan to read what had thrown Colin earlier. They didn't know how he would react. Ryan's green eyes narrowed as he took in their stiff postures and the slip of crumpled white paper in Greg's hand. “Is that the mystery line?”

“Uh - ”

“Hey guys!” The three men looked up to see the chiselled good looks of Diedrich Baber smiling down at them. Ryan broke into a warm grin and stood to greet his friend.

“Hey Die, you made it!” He pulled the dark-haired man into a friendly hug. Greg took the opportunity to stuff the slip of paper into his pocket, glad for Diedrich's timely arrival. Ryan and Diedrich sat down and instantly launched into a conversation about one of their co-stars, leaving their companions to look blankly at each other. Never one to enjoy being ignored, Greg picked up his glass and drained it's contents in one smooth shot.

“I'm going to the bar,” he announced. Jeff held up a hand and gestured for Greg to wait. He picked up his own glass and echoed Greg's movement.

“Wait for me.”

“You guys want anything?” Greg asked Ryan and Diedrich. The pair were too engrossed in their conversation to react. “Whatever.”

“Come on,” Jeff linked arms with Greg and dragged him in the direction of the bar. The pair got served fairly quickly but neither of them were in a hurry to head back to their table. Jeff perched on a stool while Greg leaned against the bar.

“They look awfully cosy,” Greg said as he studied Ryan and Diedrich. The two men were laughing at some in-joke, Diedrich slung an arm around Ryan's shoulder, their thighs were pressed together.

“Jealous?” Jeff wondered, looking at his companion with a raised eyebrow. Greg frowned at the less than subtle accusation.

“I'm worried for Col,” he said seriously. “You know he's still gaga for Ryan. But it looks like Ry's taken the whole break-up thing seriously.”

“You think those two have got something going on?” Jeff watched their friends body language more closely. He had to admit that it looked very much like they were flirting.

“I don't know, man. But it's gonna break Colin's heart if they do.” As they watched, Diedrich leaned forward and pressed his lips to Ryan's in an eager kiss. “Oh fuck!”

“Wait,” Jeff grabbed hold of Greg's arm and held him back, wanting to see what Ryan would do. Both men were relieved when Ryan pushed his co-star away. They couldn't hear what was being said but it looked to be a strained conversation between the two of them. Ryan got up and headed over to the bar, leaving Diedrich staring after him. The dark-haired man sat at the table for a few moments but when it became clear that Ryan wasn't going to turn around he got up and walked out of the bar, not making eye contact with anyone. Jeff and Greg didn't bother to pretend that they hadn't been watching the whole scene avidly.

“Don't say it,” Ryan growled at Greg when he reached the bar.

“I'm not saying anything,” Greg motioned to the bartender. “Double J for my friend here.”

Ryan took the drink gratefully and knocked it back, gasping as the alcohol burned a line down to his stomach. Jeff was watching Ryan with a considered air. Before anyone could react he grabbed Ryan's face and planted a firm kiss on his lips, tasting the sweet tang of alcohol. He pulled back with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“What the hell?” Greg threw his hands up in the air in disgust. It seemed like he was the only person in the bar not getting any action. Ryan looked equally bewildered.

“I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” Jeff said innocently as he sipped his drink. Ryan crossed his arms over his chest.

“And?” he asked.

“I've had better,” Jeff said with a wink in Greg's direction.

“I'm leaving before anyone else tries to kiss me,” Ryan said. Greg smirked at his tall friend and licked his lips mockingly. “Don't even try it Proops.”

“Come on, pucker up Stiles. I'll show you the time of your life.” Greg got what he was looking for when Ryan cracked and laughed. He turned away to try and get a grip on himself. After wiping away tears of laughter Ryan gave Greg a rueful smile.

“I'm gonna go before you try and make good on that,” he chuckled. “There's a mini-bar with my name on. You guys staying?”

“Nah, this place sucks,” Jeff hopped down from his bar stool. “Come on, we'll share a cab.”

*

An hour later found a rather tipsy Ryan alone in his hotel room, a row of empty miniature bottles littered his bedside table. A knock came at the door. Just getting to the door and opening it seemed a much more difficult task than usual. Ryan had been expecting room service so when he opened the door and was faced with Colin he was surprised to say the least.

“Hey, can I come in?” Colin asked and he looked down at the floor where his toes were scuffing the hotels plush carpet. Ryan silently opened the door wider and let Colin in. He wished that he hadn't had quite so much to drink between the bar and the hotel. The door closed with a quiet click and Colin perched on the end of Ryan's bed, looking rather uncomfortable.

“Did you want something?” Ryan asked after a minute passed and Colin said nothing. The question made Colin's head jerk up, a somewhat hurt look flashing across his face. Ryan immediately felt guilty, a sensation that was becoming all too familiar whenever Colin was around.

“Don't suppose you have anything to drink in here?” Colin asked, an edge of desperation to his smile.

Ryan shook his head. “We're all out.” That was obviously not the answer that Colin wanted to hear.

“I never got chance to apologise about the whole Brad thing,” Colin said after taking a moment to steel himself. “I'm sorry.”

Ryan shrugged one shoulder, trying for casual though he still felt the burn of jealousy. “It's fine,” he said with nonchalance. Colin's eyes widened slightly with disbelief. His ex-partner was notoriously protective and possessive in turn. For him to react to the topic of Colin kissing another man with such calm meant one of two things, he was either acting his heart out or he genuinely didn't care. That thought made goosebumps break out on Colin's arms.

“Okay. Well, that's good then.”

“Besides, I kissed Diedrich tonight,” Ryan said, alcohol loosening his tongue.

“A stage kiss?” Colin wondered out loud. His fingernails dug into his palms, the only external expression of his inner turmoil.

“No, Die kissed me,” Ryan touched his lips briefly in a gesture that made Colin's heart ache. “He said he wanted me but had never made a move because of us.”

“What did you do?”

“I pushed him away,” Ryan said. Colin felt a flash of relief but it was short lived. “I felt like I was betraying you. We aren't even together any more and I felt guilty because of you. How fucked up is that?” Colin couldn't answer for a moment, he was finding it hard to breathe.

“What are you trying to say Ryan?” He asked quietly. Silence stretched out between them as Ryan considered his next words.

“I think we need to break up,” he said, voice tired from the drama of the last few months. “No more of this together but not together crap. It's time for things to be over between us.” Ryan looked at Colin steadily, the whiskey in his bloodstream giving him the courage to say what he never could have said when sober.

“I don't...Why are you saying this now?” Colin asked, trying and failing to understand why everything was falling apart so completely around him. Ryan shrugged again, a casual gesture that seemed completely out of place given the seriousness of the moment.

“It's just time Col,” he said. “I heard Brad got his cast off today.”

Colin blinked at the non sequitur. “Yeah, he did.”

“So, maybe it's a sign. You go back to the Colin and Brad Show, I get on with Whose Live. We both move on with our lives.”

“Ryan,” Colin was renowned for his quick thinking but it had truly deserted him now. He didn't know what to say to make Ryan see that them going their separate ways was the last thing that he wanted. “I came here to tell you – .”

“Just stop, please?” Ryan said. He reached out and ran a hand over Colin's cheek, caressing the soft skin for what could very well be the last time. “Don't be scared.”

Colin stood frozen to the spot, unable to move or say anything. He watched as Ryan flashed him as sad smile and walked out of the room and out of his life. As the hotel door closed, Colin felt his grip on reality waver terrifyingly. He didn't know how long he stood there just trying to keep breathing. A knock on the door pulled him out of his daze.

“Ryan?” The name was breathed almost reverently as Colin walked over to the door and pulled it open.

A young man wearing the hotels colours stood in the doorway. He was carrying a tray on which stood a bottle of single malt scotch. Colin blinked back tears furiously.

“Room service, sir,” the young man prompted.

“Thanks,” Colin said, his voice tight, as he accepted the bottle. He reached into his pocket and handed the man a tip. With that done Colin quickly retreated back into the room. He sat down on the floor, next to the bed, and cracked open the expensive bottle. Colin hadn't realised how badly his hands were shaking until he raised the bottle to his lips and almost spilt the precious liquid. Not even the warmth of whiskey could dispel the chill which had settled over him.

For hours Colin sat on the floor of Ryan's hotel room, drinking straight from the bottle and watching the door, waiting for Ryan to come back. Eventually exhaustion and alcohol made Colin pass out on the carpeted floor. When he awoke the next day with a killer headache and a stiff neck, he was still alone. It seemed like he had truly lost everything.

To Be Continued...