Hurting Hands (a Greg/Ryan, Ryan/Colin fic)
Title: Hurting Hands
Fandom: Whose Line is it Anyway?
Author:
sandssavvy
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryan/Greg, Ryan/Colin
Summary: Greg has learned to hate that game.
Disclaimer: Obviously I made it up, just like all my other works. Sue and I shall set the Scottish Gremlins on you.
Greg was lying awake on his bed. He couldn’t explain what caused him to fall into a vodka binge. His head felt like it weighed a ton, and he hadn’t forgotten anything. The sarcastic comedian was one of the unlucky people that only fell further into sorrow with the help of alcohol.
He’d only been on the show playing Helping Hands with Ryan and Colin, but he felt like he’d been stabbed in the back. Greg yawned as he curled into a protective ball. He’d try to figure out what was wrong in the morning when his head cleared.
The dream started off just like the taping. Greg was leaning back in his chair when Clive announced the next game. They were going to be playing Helping Hands-
With Colin as Ryan’s hands.
Greg’s eyes widened in shock, though, he tried to hide it. Every time he had played the game with Colin on the show, Greg had been the hands. However, it wasn’t just surprise that made his eyes widen. There was a strange fear flooding his veins. He could feel something changing, and he was afraid that he was about to loose something important.
While Greg helped Ryan get ready for his “date” in the game, he watched his friends work together. It made no sense! Why should he be so worried? Sure he had a crush on Ryan (He dutifully ignored the little sarcastic voice in the back of his head that replied, “So that’s what they call it these days, is it?” Greg shuddered and hoped nobody noticed. He could have sworn the voice sounded like Clive for a moment.) - but it wasn’t like they were dating.
Besides they were only playing a game.
… Right?
The feeling was growing now as he took a moment to watch them interact. They were pressed up close. He absentmindedly noticed that because Colin was taller than him, he could see what he was doing. They were so in synch; once again giving Greg the illusion that they could read each other’s thoughts.
Greg could still remember how it felt to be in Colin’s place in the game. Greg would be up against Ryan’s back. The heat of the other man made him feel dizzy every time, and he hoped Ryan couldn’t feel the pounding of his heart or the quickening of his breath. Ryan’s wiry muscles would dance under his skin, and Greg would have to fight the sensations to concentrate on the game.
Greg usually hated it when this game ended, but for once found himself grateful for Clive’s buzzer. His head was still swimming from the barrage of emotions that threatened to pull him under. He watched Ryan and Colin joke as they sat down. Suddenly, Greg felt more alone than he had in years.
Then the dream changed. The scenery held the half-finished look that seemed to appear in all unreal dreams and nightmares. He was in the dressing room with Ryan while he worked up the courage to tell him how he felt.
Greg smiled nervously as he rubbed his cold hands against his trouser legs. It was a strange contrast to the heat rising in his face. “Ryan there’s something I need to tell you…”
Ryan smiled looking curious and oblivious to his friend’s nerves, “What is it, Greg?”
Greg smiled back (Ryan had such a wonderful smile), “Well, this is hard to say…”
“Don’t worry so much. What is it?”
Greg took a calming breath, “Ryan, I think I love you.”
The was a long awkward silence before Greg looked into Ryan’s eyes. He could see pity clearly written there, and felt like crying at his own stupidity. Of course Ryan couldn’t love him, now he’s ruined everything.
“Greg I’m sorry, but I love someone else.”
Greg couldn’t bear to look into those beautiful green eyes and see the horrible pity that was worse than any rage Ryan could have had.
“Who is it that you’re…” Greg drifted off. He couldn’t say it. If he did it would make it real.
Greg looked up when he received no answer to see a pair of pale arms descend from the ceiling. One of the hands wrapped its fingers lovingly around Ryan, while the other reached for Greg. He tried to run away but it was too fast. The hand reached into his chest and ripped out his heart. He watched as Colin’s hand tossed his heart aside with a flick of it’s wrist.
“He’s mine.” The Canadian’s voice snarled.
Greg awoke with a gasp and reached for his heart. The dream had been horrible, and try as he might he couldn’t blame his emotions on the vodka.
How could one little game hurt so much?
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Fin
A/N: I hope you all liked it. It's my first fic in this fandom and I just came off a writers block.