Seldom Second Chances (5/13)
Title: Seldom Second Chances
Author: Clay
Pairing: Ryan/Colin
Rating: NC-17 (for later chapters)
Summary: When a freak accident drops an impossible opportunity in Ryan's lap, it's up to him to decide whether to squander it, or to change his fate by going after the one thing he's always wanted.
Word Count: ~5200
Prompt & Author's Notes: Again, for the Thon Prompt 33: Strangled by the red string. As always, betaed by asuka14.
Chapter Five
The phone in Colin's room rang and rang until Ryan was sure he wasn't going to pick up. Finally, silence replaced the trill of the ringer, and then a sleepy voice sounded on the other end of the line.
“H-hello?”
Relief and apprehension dueled in Ryan's mind. He took another breath and put on a smile as he answered, “Hey, Colin.”
“Ryan?” Colin sounded half asleep.
“Yeah... Hey, so I know it's early-”
“What time is it?” Colin asked, cutting him off. He was starting to sound a little more awake.
“Right around 5.”
“In the morning?”
He didn't bother answering that. His mind was still too wrapped up in trying to figure out how to broach the reason for his call.
“Look,” he said, “I need you to do me a huge favor. I mean, I know it's early, but I really need someone to come get me.”
Colin was silent for a moment. Ryan could just picture him staring at the phone in confusion. “Wh-um....where are you?”
“County lock up?”
“What!?”
Ryan cringed. At least Colin sounded fully awake now.
“Oh, and take a cab,” he said. He couldn't help but smile now. “I have a car.”
“Wait. What? Ryan-”
But the guard was motioning to Ryan that it was time to wrap things up. Between this call and the one to his lawyer, he’d already used up his allotted time, and patience didn’t seem to be the L.A.P.D.’s strong suit. “I have to go,” he cut in. “Just come get me. Okay?”
“Ryan-”
“Okay?”
There was a sigh and then a brief pause on the other end. Ryan tapped his finger against the solid black receiver impatiently.
Finally, Colin came back. “Okay. But Ry-”
Ryan didn’t have time for a lecture now. He hung up and grinned at the scowling guard. “All yours.”
* * *
Roughly 45 minutes later, the same guard returned to escort Ryan into the precinct’s lobby. He saw Colin, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to whatever story the arresting officer was telling him. Today he was once more dressed in jeans and another one of his free shirts he'd gotten from a fundraiser. This one was white, with a blue cartoon whale on the back with a speech bubble that read “Whale you save me?” Ryan shook his head in amusement and took a seat on a hard wooden bench as he waited. Colin glanced at him briefly but didn’t acknowledge him otherwise. He looked back at the officer and continued to listen.
As Ryan sat, waiting to be released, he noticed that Colin didn’t say a word as he heard the charges against Ryan and later the officer’s instructions. He just stood there, looking somewhere between horrified and perplexed with one hand cupped over his mouth as though he were afraid of what would come spilling out had he allowed himself to speak.
He only even looked at Ryan twice: once upon his entrance and once when the officer mentioned Ryan’s “male companion.” After that, Colin seemed to be consciously trying not to look at him. Even after he acknowledged that the bail had been paid and they were free to go, Colin just turned and started out the door, assuming Ryan would follow. Or more likely, Ryan guessed as he stood and strode after him, not caring if he did.
The impound lot was only a few blocks away, and as there wasn’t a taxi in sight, it looked like Colin was deciding to walk it. Ryan caught up to him quickly, but Colin still wasn’t talking or looking at him, so they walked alongside one another in silence.
The streets of L.A. were never empty, but at 6 in the morning, they were as close as Ryan had ever seen them. People were heading off to work on foot and in cars, the traffic light and easy compared to the deadlock they would see just an hour later.
Ryan let his mind wander as he watched the people and scenery, and it eased the tension in his shoulders. He decided that maybe Colin wasn't angry; he was just waiting for Ryan to speak first, and he was feeling almost confident as he started, “Hey, Col-”
“No,” Colin said immediately, the word angrily clipped. He stopped short and swung toward Ryan, looking at him for the first time in what had to be ten minutes.
Ryan stumbled to a halt, startled, but Colin was still talking.
“When we’re in private,” he said, then turned and started walking again.
Ryan stared after him for a long moment. So much for him not being angry. In Ryan's mind, he was 17 again, and he’d just told his father that he was dropping out of high school. It wouldn’t have surprised him if Colin had turned back around and started yelling at him to be more like his brothers.
Because Colin was furious. Most people cursed and carried on, but when Colin got angry, he got quiet. It wasn’t a side of him that most people got to see, but Ryan had known Colin almost as long as his own wife. There wasn't much of him Ryan's hadn't seen at this point.
The prospect of Colin's fury was concerning, however, and dread over what was to come when they finally were away from prying eyes sat heavy in Ryan’s stomach.
The impound lot went similarly to the police station, with Colin silently watching while Ryan paid the fee and received his car. Ryan could feel Colin's stony stare on the back of his head the entire time. But when the car actually pulled up in front of them, Colin was finally shocked into speech.
“Ryan,” he whispered, slack jawed at the sight of the gorgeous Aston Martin, recognizing the expense of the car if not the exact make or model. “What have you done?”
Ryan didn't have an answer for him. “Maybe you should drive,” he said instead, stopping Colin from getting in the passenger side. At Colin's continued dumbfounded look he explained, “I had a lot to drink last night, and not a lot of sleep.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Colin agreed, a little of the bite coming back to his voice, but he accepted the keys when Ryan offered them.
They were a mile outside of the city before he spoke again. The silence had been slowly growing uncomfortable, and Ryan fought to keep his mind off it. His knee jiggled nervously, and he picked at a lose thread he'd just now noticed.
“Hey,” he said, reaching for the radio, “You mind if I-”
“I'm supposed to be on a flight to Toronto in less than two hours, Ryan,” Colin said. The deadly calm was back in his voice.
Ryan blinked at him. “Well, you could still make that.”
“Could I?” Colin asked. His voice raised slightly. “My alarm was set to go off at 5:15, which gave me just enough time to shower, finish packing, and make it to the airport...” He checked his watch. “Right about now.
“Instead I'm currently driving you home, and by the time I drop you off, get a cab back to the city, collect my belongings from the hotel, and finally get to the airport, I'd be lucky to make it before the final boarding call, and that's not including getting my boarding pass and going through security.”
Ryan cringed and nodded consolingly. “Look, I can pay-”
“Damn fucking right you're going to pay for it!” Colin suddenly barked.
Ryan stared at him, wide eyed, but Colin had never taken his eyes off the road. He still looked out the windshield, his jaw clenched and knuckles white where he gripped the steering wheel.
Ryan was quiet for a moment. He'd been expecting a lecture, but this was something else. He wasn't sure he'd even seen Colin yell before, much less been on the receiving end of it. But where he'd been dreading Colin's calm anger, this annoyed him for some reason. He looked out the window at what he could see of the city, its lights slowly fading into the smoggy dawn. He'd offered to pay. There was no reason to get so upset.
“Jesus,” he muttered, unable to hold his tongue. “If I knew you were in such a hurry to get out of here, I would have-”
“You were arrested, Ryan!” Colin yelled, cutting him off. “Arrested! For public intoxication and battery!”
“Yeah, well-”
“And outside of a gay bar! A damned gay bar, Ryan. What in the world were you even doing there? And seriously? Punching a paparazzo? What were you thinking?”
But the yelling had stopped fazing him; instead he was stuck on something Colin had just said.
He slowly looked over, studying him. “I wasn't outside of a gay bar.”
“What?” Colin said. His voice was still angry, but at least he'd dropped back down to a conversational volume.
“It was a check cashing place,” Ryan clarified. “The battery took place outside of the check cashing place. The report did say that I had been drinking at a bar...at Motherlode...but it didn't say that it was a gay bar.”
“Then the officer must have told me.”
“No he didn't,” Ryan said. “I was sitting right there; I heard everything he said to you. So how do you know it was a gay bar?”
“Christ, I don't know. I guessed?” Colin said, the anger draining more and more from his voice with every word, only to be replaced with something Ryan couldn't quite identify. “You were on Santa Monica Boulevard, and you had a...” He paused, and Ryan could swear he saw a hint of a flush to his cheeks. “...male companion. I guess I just assumed.
“But you're changing the subject!”
Ryan just shrugged and continued to watch Colin thoughtfully. For some reason he was positive that Colin was lying to him.
“What were you doing there?” Colin was going on. He sounded genuinely curious, and Ryan thought that he was finally calming down.
Ryan narrowed his eyes, waiting and watching him for just a moment before saying, “I was picking up a guy.”
Colin's flush deepened. “When the cop said 'male companion' I figured, but I didn't want to jump to any conclusions.”
“Yeah, well, my last memory of the guy is us discussing fucking in the backseat of the car, so...”
Colin threw a quick look at the backseat, like the guy was somehow hiding back there. “You didn't.”
“No.”
Colin nodded. “No wonder you called me and not Pat. Does she know?”
Ryan shook his head. “No. But I'm willing to bet it'll be all over the news this morning, so I guess she'll figure it out soon enough.”
“Christ, Ryan.”
“Yeah.” Suddenly he smiled. “I hope Dick got home okay.”
“Dick?”
“The guy. The 'male companion.'”
“You picked up a guy named Dick at a gay bar?”
Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before Colin looked back to the road, but it was enough. A moment later, they both burst into laughter. Maybe it was the restless night or the stress or who knows what, but it was suddenly the funniest thing Ryan had ever heard. Every time he quieted down, Colin would start up and set him off again. He laughed so hard that tears were streaming down his face, and he was gasping for breath by the time he was done.
“Yeah,” he said, still trying to catch his breath. “I guess I did.”
After that they both fell silent again, but the tension was gone.
The were well out of the city now; Ryan looked at the horizon in the side mirror, but he couldn't even see a hint of it. Colin kept his eyes on the road, a small smile on his lips, but as the miles passed beneath them, the smile slowly faded. “So,” he said, checking his mirrors as he merged right, their exit quickly approaching. “Since when have you been into men, anyway?”
The question took Ryan by surprise, even though he should have expected it. “I’m not into-” he started, but that wasn’t necessarily true. Since I met you? he considered, but then shoved that thought down and looked out the window. “I mean…I guess…I don’t know. I guess I figured I’d give it a try.”
Ryan gripped the door handle, leaning against the centripetal force as they rounded the exit ramp, and Colin gave him a sidelong glance. Ryan caught it out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t dare meet it. He hurried on, not wanting Colin to question him further. “Hey, I’ve kissed you enough times on the show, right? Guess it got in my brain.”
That’s it, he thought. Make it a joke. Pull him in. Colin won’t want to keep it going if it implies that there might be something off about him, too.
But Colin wasn’t one to be deterred so easily. “But those weren’t real kisses. They didn’t mean anything.”
Ryan cringed. Technically, they didn’t mean anything to him, either, but for some reason hearing the words stung. “Right,” he agreed. “I was just…never mind, okay?”
Colin nodded slowly in answer.
They turned right at the end of the ramp and headed a couple miles down to the entrance of Ryan's neighborhood. Ryan just hoped that the conversation was finished. He wasn't in the mood to continue to defend himself just now, especially as he just remembered that he would have to deal with his awakening family when they finally arrived at his house, but he had no such luck.
“So…” Colin said. Something was different in his voice now. “You’ve never…you know…with a guy before, right?”
Ryan looked at him curiously and shook his head. “No.” He frowned as they pulled up to the gate. “Have you?”
Colin didn’t answer as he rolled down the window to input Ryan’s gate code into a freestanding keypad. Ryan was thankful that Colin somehow knew it, as he’d only punched it in the day before by rote memory, and he wasn’t sure he actually remembered it well enough to dictate the sequence. The gate started to open slowly, and Colin faced forward again, but he still wasn’t answering. His lips were pressed into a thin, thoughtful line.
“Have you,” Ryan asked again as the car started to move again.
“No!” Colin said suddenly. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”
He was so seemingly offended by the fact that Ryan would even ask him about being with another man that Ryan immediately thought back to his to do list, to the crossed off item: Tell Colin how. In his mind he immediately remedied that to Never tell Colin.
It was closing in on 7 a.m., and Ryan expected to see his family moving around behind the home’s large windows, but everything seemed oddly quiet, and furthermore, Pat’s car wasn’t in the drive. Ryan tried to guess where they were, but it was then that it occurred to him that he didn’t know what day of the week it was. Hell, he didn’t even know the date beyond it being somewhere in 2001. If he had to guess, he would say it was either Monday or Tuesday, and Pat was taking the kids to school. If he was right, he had maybe a half hour before she got back, maybe less. Maybe more if she had shopping to do.
“We’re here,” Colin was saying beside him. “You should get some sleep. I’ll call a cab.”
“No!” Ryan protested, looking at him. For some reason the idea of being alone with himself after the night he'd had seemed absolutely appalling. Colin was staring at him, and Ryan hurried on. “I mean, I can’t stay here. Just let me grab some stuff, and I’ll give you a ride back to the hotel. I have to write you a check for that plane ticket anyway, right?”
Colin almost smiled. “With interest.”
“You got it, buddy.”
He nodded slowly, still watching Ryan curiously. “And Pat-”
“Isn’t even here,” Ryan hurried to tell him. “We’ll be in and out.”
“I’m not lying for you.”
“You won’t have to,” Ryan assured him. “I promise.”
It took a few more minutes, but finally Colin agreed to stick around just a little longer. He came in to use the bathroom, then offered to put on a pot of coffee as Ryan went to his bedroom to pack a small bag. As he shoved a couple pairs of pants and some t-shirts into a duffle bag , Ryan could hear the muffled sound of Colin talking to Deb on the phone downstairs and explaining why he’d be home late.
The thought of Colin heading back to Toronto upset Ryan for some reason, and it just occurred to him that he had no idea where he was going to go or what he was going to do. He hadn’t put any thought into it when he’d told Pat she could stay in the house, but if he really was stuck in this place or time or whatever, then that meant he’d have to either make up with her or find his own place. And he’d have to explain all that to Colin at one point, which somehow seemed like the worst part of it all after Colin’s explosion in the car.
“I’m going to grab the newspaper!” Colin suddenly called from downstairs, as though to drive that point home.
“Okay!”
The front door opened and closed, and Ryan sighed. Suddenly, as he stood over his half packed bag, he felt overwhelmingly tired. He wouldn’t mind lying down in his bed and sleeping for a week. But that wasn’t an option. He had to get everything together and get out of there before Pat came back. He was just about finished, but he felt like he was missing something.
He sucked in a breath as he remembered his phones. He should grab the charger for the Nokia, but he wasn’t sure what he could do for the iPhone. He was just about to pull it out and check the remaining battery life when a commotion caught his attention.
It sounded like at least a dozen voices, all yelling over one another. Immediately Ryan thought of the paparazzi from the night before, and his heart sank. He hurried out of the bedroom and across the hall, toward the front of the house. Through the open window of the computer room, he could see the expanse of his front lawn and the street beyond.
Colin had reached the end of the lawn, and he was bending down to pick up the newspaper, but right past the driveway's gates were a smattering of paparazzi, all yelling questions at him. It seemed impossible to Ryan that they’d descend on the house so soon after his and Colin's arrival, but they’d probably been waiting for him. Colin was doing a commendable job of ignoring them, but Ryan could hear them surprisingly clearly from the house, and it made him feel sick.
“Colin!” he heard. “Colin! Is Ryan home? Is Ryan there? Colin!!” It was a number of different voices, but they all blended together. “Is it true that Ryan’s gay? Where is his wife? Are you his lover? Were you with him last night? Is it true he’s getting a divorce? Does his wife know you’re here? Talk to us! Colin! Colin!!”
Colin had turned away from them like he hadn’t even heard them, his face blank as he started back up the long lawn toward the front door.
“I’m so sorry,” Ryan whispered.
The paparazzi were still yelling, and suddenly one loud voice called, “Why is Ryan’s wife moving out?”
Ryan saw Colin stop, then slowly turn back to them. If he said something, Ryan couldn’t hear it, but the din from the paparazzi lulled for a moment, then started up again, louder than before. Colin took one step toward them, and Ryan leaned forward, listening hard, but he still couldn’t hear anything Colin was possibly saying.
One of the paparazzo was digging in his bag. He produced a paper and shoved it through the iron bars of the gate, showing Colin something. Colin stared at it for a long moment, then yanked it out of the man’s hand. The paparazzo was yelling at him now, but Colin didn’t seem to hear him. He shook his head and started walking backwards. The voices of the paparazzi raised louder still, but Colin spun and jogged back toward the house, ignoring them.
Ryan was frozen, staring at the paparazzi as Colin neared the house. What had they shown him? Was it him and Dick the night before? Could that have been one of the men down on Santa Monica Boulevard?
There was a bang as the door flew open downstairs, and then Colin yelled, “Ryan!”
Ryan snapped out of his reverie and looked to the hallway.
“Ryan! Damn it, Ryan, answer me!”
Feeling nauseous, Ryan started toward the sound of his voice.
He met Colin on the second floor landing just above the staircase. Colin was holding what appeared to be an 8 by 10 glossy picture, and he waved it at Ryan as he approached. “Pat is moving out?” he said, shoving the picture at Ryan. “When were you going to tell me?”
Ryan carefully took the picture and looked it over. One of the paparazzi had photographed Pat loading the kids and a number of suitcases in her car. Apparently she felt the need to get out of the house, too, even though Ryan had told her he would be the one leaving.
He shook his head slowly. “She’s probably just staying with her parents for a few days. She said she might do that.”
“And why would she do that?”
Ryan snorted and gave Colin a look. He was a big boy; he could figure it out.
Colin stared at him for a long moment. “You’re getting a divorce.” It wasn’t a question. Colin seemed infinitely sad and confused, and something about it struck a nerve in Ryan. When the hell did Colin start caring about his marriage?
“Yeah,” he snapped. “I’m getting a divorce. So?” Huffing, he shoved the picture back at Colin and swept past him to make his way downstairs.
He could feel Colin’s eyes on his back the whole way down.
“So!?” he heard, followed by Colin thumping down the steps after him. “So I had to find out about this from those wolves outside, how about that?” Ryan hit the first floor and kept going, but Colin’s voice didn’t stop. “Or what about the fact that you decided to get drunk with strangers instead of confiding in your best friend? Ryan? Ryan will you stop and talk to me?”
Ryan didn’t stop. He rounded a corner and strode into the kitchen, not sure why he was there, but knowing he had to do something, anything to distract himself. He looked around wildly, but his brain wasn’t working, and he just ended up standing in the middle of the floor, breathing hard.
“You’re getting a divorce!” Colin said, still going. Ryan wanted to punch him and run away. “And you’re in West Hollywood picking up guys and attacking paparazzi! Do you know how that looks?”
Ryan snapped. “Like I’m gay?” he asked, spinning to face Colin. His hands were balled into fists at his side. “Are you worried about my reputation? Or are you worried that associating with me makes you look gay?”
Colin paused, frowning and seemingly at a loss for words, and Ryan rolled his eyes.
“So I guess you don’t want to be seen with me anymore? Fine. Get the fuck out, then.”
“Ryan,” Colin said, sighing. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
Ryan scoffed. He turned away, and, still looking for something to keep him busy, decided to fetch a cup of coffee. He grabbed a mug and went to fill it, but found his hand shaking when he lifted the coffee pot.
“I’m just confused,” Colin said behind him. He sounded sad again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“That I like dick?”
“That you were having problems,” Colin came back, unfazed.
But Ryan wasn’t ready to cave and play nice just yet. This whole situation had him too on edge. “Didn’t know you cared.” He still wouldn't face Colin, though he could still feel the weight of his eyes on him.
“Ryan?” Colin asked quietly, “what's wrong with you?”
Where do I start? he thought, but he just muttered, “Thanks for making coffee,” then pushed past Colin and left the room.
* * *
He stayed tucked away for over an hour, mostly just sitting on the back patio and smoking and drinking his coffee, which, he had to admit, was pretty damned good.
He could still hear the low rumblings of the paparazzi at his gate. He had taken a peek through a front window at one point to see that the crowd had thinned, but only by a few people. The most tenacious, including-to his surprise-the man he'd assaulted the night before, were still milling about his gate and waiting for a glimpse of him. It was as though they fully expected him to start fucking Colin right there on the front lawn for everyone and god to see.
Though, he thought with a smirk, that did seem like fun. But then he frowned, realizing that Colin would probably just give him another lecture for even suggesting it. When had he become such a stick in the mud anyway?
He'd considered calling the police to disperse them, but he didn't feel like dealing with any more cops before he could help it, so instead he decided to hide out in the backyard while he fantasized about spraying the lot of them with his hose or mowing them down with his car.
It killed Ryan a little to realize that he'd done this to himself. If he hadn't been in such a hurry to get in trouble, the press would still be ignoring him, and L.A. wouldn't be a sure fire shit storm for the next week or so. And to make matters worse, he was sure he'd lost Colin's friendship as well, or at least his trust. He probably wasn't actually allowed to leave the county before his trial, but staying wasn't an option, either. He had to get the hell out of there-and fast.
He left the cup on the patio table and made his way back into the house. It was oddly quiet, and Ryan thought with another pang of guilt that it seemed like Colin had cleared out, though how he'd gotten past the paparazzi was anyone's guess. Oh well. Trying to quelch the disappointment that bubbled up in him at the thought of being alone once again, Ryan headed back to his bedroom to finish packing.
When he was ready to go, he carried the duffle bag downstairs, and then, after a moment of thought, decided to fetch his mug from the back patio and give it a quick rinse before he left. Leaving dirty dishes around would do nothing but anger Pat when she finally returned home, and Ryan figured it was about time he stopped trying to piss people off.
But when he went to retrieve the cup, it was gone. Frowning, he checked around the table, wondering if an oddly strong gust of wind had blown it to the ground, but no such luck.
“What the fuck?”
“I was washing mine, so I figured I'd take care of yours, too.”
Ryan gasped, then spun around to see Colin standing in the open doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. Despite everything, Ryan broke out in a wide grin.
“I'd thought that you'd left.”
Colin shrugged. He looked blank. “Still here.” Then he seemed to think about it a little more and tilted his head to one side, considering. “I should have, though. You're an ass.”
Ryan chuckled weakly, nodding. “I am. I really, really am.” He took a deep breath, then started forward. “Colin, really, I am so sor-”
But Colin held up a hand, stopping him. “It's okay,” he hurried to assure Ryan. “I know you've been under a lot-”
But now it was Ryan's turn to cut Colin off. He took three long strides toward him, then pulled him into a tight hug. Startled, Colin stopped speaking. He stood there for a few seconds, his arms at his sides, and then very slowly, he hugged Ryan back.
“So,” he said, giving Ryan one final squeeze, then pulling back to look at him, “where are we going?”
It took a moment for that to sink in. Ryan raised his eyebrows, and he had to fight to keep from smiling. “We?”
“You seriously don't think I'm going to let you take off on your own after all the trouble you've gotten into, do you? You need a babysitter.
“And besides,” Colin continued, wagging one finger at him, “you still owe me for that plane ticket. Though by now it's going to cost you double.”
It was a joke, but it had Ryan cringing. Just another way he'd screwed Colin over.
It occurred to him then that he'd done nothing but insult, inconvenience, and take advantage of Colin in the past few hours, whereas Colin had done nothing but help him. And now here he was, offering his help once again, with a smile on his face and a joke on his lips. Had he always treated Colin this way? Was this why Colin had shut him out; why he'd left L.A.?
“Shit,” he muttered, frowning. “You don't have to do that. Let me just write you a check. Triple the cost of the ticket.”
“No,” Colin said, shaking his head and then turning and heading back inside and gesturing for Ryan to follow. “Don't do that. You're not getting rid of me so easily. I saw your bag by the front door. So like I said: where are we going?”
“I-you-” Ryan shook his head, still caught up in his guilt. “You don't have to come with me.”
Colin smiled at him. “I know.”
They made it to the front door, and Colin stopped, looking at him expectantly. Ryan watched him back, completely overwhelmed by Colin's gesture. And for maybe the first time, he wasn't scared or ashamed to think that part of him was definitely in love with Colin. Though he still wasn't ready to say it.
“I don't deserve you,” he said instead.
“No, you don't,” Colin agreed, still smiling. “But seriously! For the third time-where the hell are we going!?”
“No fucking clue,” Ryan told him, chuckling. He bent down, scooped up the duffle bag, and gestured for Colin to lead the way. “Let's go find out.”
To be continued...
Author: Clay
Pairing: Ryan/Colin
Rating: NC-17 (for later chapters)
Summary: When a freak accident drops an impossible opportunity in Ryan's lap, it's up to him to decide whether to squander it, or to change his fate by going after the one thing he's always wanted.
Word Count: ~5200
Prompt & Author's Notes: Again, for the Thon Prompt 33: Strangled by the red string. As always, betaed by asuka14.
Chapter Five
The phone in Colin's room rang and rang until Ryan was sure he wasn't going to pick up. Finally, silence replaced the trill of the ringer, and then a sleepy voice sounded on the other end of the line.
“H-hello?”
Relief and apprehension dueled in Ryan's mind. He took another breath and put on a smile as he answered, “Hey, Colin.”
“Ryan?” Colin sounded half asleep.
“Yeah... Hey, so I know it's early-”
“What time is it?” Colin asked, cutting him off. He was starting to sound a little more awake.
“Right around 5.”
“In the morning?”
He didn't bother answering that. His mind was still too wrapped up in trying to figure out how to broach the reason for his call.
“Look,” he said, “I need you to do me a huge favor. I mean, I know it's early, but I really need someone to come get me.”
Colin was silent for a moment. Ryan could just picture him staring at the phone in confusion. “Wh-um....where are you?”
“County lock up?”
“What!?”
Ryan cringed. At least Colin sounded fully awake now.
“Oh, and take a cab,” he said. He couldn't help but smile now. “I have a car.”
“Wait. What? Ryan-”
But the guard was motioning to Ryan that it was time to wrap things up. Between this call and the one to his lawyer, he’d already used up his allotted time, and patience didn’t seem to be the L.A.P.D.’s strong suit. “I have to go,” he cut in. “Just come get me. Okay?”
“Ryan-”
“Okay?”
There was a sigh and then a brief pause on the other end. Ryan tapped his finger against the solid black receiver impatiently.
Finally, Colin came back. “Okay. But Ry-”
Ryan didn’t have time for a lecture now. He hung up and grinned at the scowling guard. “All yours.”
* * *
Roughly 45 minutes later, the same guard returned to escort Ryan into the precinct’s lobby. He saw Colin, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to whatever story the arresting officer was telling him. Today he was once more dressed in jeans and another one of his free shirts he'd gotten from a fundraiser. This one was white, with a blue cartoon whale on the back with a speech bubble that read “Whale you save me?” Ryan shook his head in amusement and took a seat on a hard wooden bench as he waited. Colin glanced at him briefly but didn’t acknowledge him otherwise. He looked back at the officer and continued to listen.
As Ryan sat, waiting to be released, he noticed that Colin didn’t say a word as he heard the charges against Ryan and later the officer’s instructions. He just stood there, looking somewhere between horrified and perplexed with one hand cupped over his mouth as though he were afraid of what would come spilling out had he allowed himself to speak.
He only even looked at Ryan twice: once upon his entrance and once when the officer mentioned Ryan’s “male companion.” After that, Colin seemed to be consciously trying not to look at him. Even after he acknowledged that the bail had been paid and they were free to go, Colin just turned and started out the door, assuming Ryan would follow. Or more likely, Ryan guessed as he stood and strode after him, not caring if he did.
The impound lot was only a few blocks away, and as there wasn’t a taxi in sight, it looked like Colin was deciding to walk it. Ryan caught up to him quickly, but Colin still wasn’t talking or looking at him, so they walked alongside one another in silence.
The streets of L.A. were never empty, but at 6 in the morning, they were as close as Ryan had ever seen them. People were heading off to work on foot and in cars, the traffic light and easy compared to the deadlock they would see just an hour later.
Ryan let his mind wander as he watched the people and scenery, and it eased the tension in his shoulders. He decided that maybe Colin wasn't angry; he was just waiting for Ryan to speak first, and he was feeling almost confident as he started, “Hey, Col-”
“No,” Colin said immediately, the word angrily clipped. He stopped short and swung toward Ryan, looking at him for the first time in what had to be ten minutes.
Ryan stumbled to a halt, startled, but Colin was still talking.
“When we’re in private,” he said, then turned and started walking again.
Ryan stared after him for a long moment. So much for him not being angry. In Ryan's mind, he was 17 again, and he’d just told his father that he was dropping out of high school. It wouldn’t have surprised him if Colin had turned back around and started yelling at him to be more like his brothers.
Because Colin was furious. Most people cursed and carried on, but when Colin got angry, he got quiet. It wasn’t a side of him that most people got to see, but Ryan had known Colin almost as long as his own wife. There wasn't much of him Ryan's hadn't seen at this point.
The prospect of Colin's fury was concerning, however, and dread over what was to come when they finally were away from prying eyes sat heavy in Ryan’s stomach.
The impound lot went similarly to the police station, with Colin silently watching while Ryan paid the fee and received his car. Ryan could feel Colin's stony stare on the back of his head the entire time. But when the car actually pulled up in front of them, Colin was finally shocked into speech.
“Ryan,” he whispered, slack jawed at the sight of the gorgeous Aston Martin, recognizing the expense of the car if not the exact make or model. “What have you done?”
Ryan didn't have an answer for him. “Maybe you should drive,” he said instead, stopping Colin from getting in the passenger side. At Colin's continued dumbfounded look he explained, “I had a lot to drink last night, and not a lot of sleep.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Colin agreed, a little of the bite coming back to his voice, but he accepted the keys when Ryan offered them.
They were a mile outside of the city before he spoke again. The silence had been slowly growing uncomfortable, and Ryan fought to keep his mind off it. His knee jiggled nervously, and he picked at a lose thread he'd just now noticed.
“Hey,” he said, reaching for the radio, “You mind if I-”
“I'm supposed to be on a flight to Toronto in less than two hours, Ryan,” Colin said. The deadly calm was back in his voice.
Ryan blinked at him. “Well, you could still make that.”
“Could I?” Colin asked. His voice raised slightly. “My alarm was set to go off at 5:15, which gave me just enough time to shower, finish packing, and make it to the airport...” He checked his watch. “Right about now.
“Instead I'm currently driving you home, and by the time I drop you off, get a cab back to the city, collect my belongings from the hotel, and finally get to the airport, I'd be lucky to make it before the final boarding call, and that's not including getting my boarding pass and going through security.”
Ryan cringed and nodded consolingly. “Look, I can pay-”
“Damn fucking right you're going to pay for it!” Colin suddenly barked.
Ryan stared at him, wide eyed, but Colin had never taken his eyes off the road. He still looked out the windshield, his jaw clenched and knuckles white where he gripped the steering wheel.
Ryan was quiet for a moment. He'd been expecting a lecture, but this was something else. He wasn't sure he'd even seen Colin yell before, much less been on the receiving end of it. But where he'd been dreading Colin's calm anger, this annoyed him for some reason. He looked out the window at what he could see of the city, its lights slowly fading into the smoggy dawn. He'd offered to pay. There was no reason to get so upset.
“Jesus,” he muttered, unable to hold his tongue. “If I knew you were in such a hurry to get out of here, I would have-”
“You were arrested, Ryan!” Colin yelled, cutting him off. “Arrested! For public intoxication and battery!”
“Yeah, well-”
“And outside of a gay bar! A damned gay bar, Ryan. What in the world were you even doing there? And seriously? Punching a paparazzo? What were you thinking?”
But the yelling had stopped fazing him; instead he was stuck on something Colin had just said.
He slowly looked over, studying him. “I wasn't outside of a gay bar.”
“What?” Colin said. His voice was still angry, but at least he'd dropped back down to a conversational volume.
“It was a check cashing place,” Ryan clarified. “The battery took place outside of the check cashing place. The report did say that I had been drinking at a bar...at Motherlode...but it didn't say that it was a gay bar.”
“Then the officer must have told me.”
“No he didn't,” Ryan said. “I was sitting right there; I heard everything he said to you. So how do you know it was a gay bar?”
“Christ, I don't know. I guessed?” Colin said, the anger draining more and more from his voice with every word, only to be replaced with something Ryan couldn't quite identify. “You were on Santa Monica Boulevard, and you had a...” He paused, and Ryan could swear he saw a hint of a flush to his cheeks. “...male companion. I guess I just assumed.
“But you're changing the subject!”
Ryan just shrugged and continued to watch Colin thoughtfully. For some reason he was positive that Colin was lying to him.
“What were you doing there?” Colin was going on. He sounded genuinely curious, and Ryan thought that he was finally calming down.
Ryan narrowed his eyes, waiting and watching him for just a moment before saying, “I was picking up a guy.”
Colin's flush deepened. “When the cop said 'male companion' I figured, but I didn't want to jump to any conclusions.”
“Yeah, well, my last memory of the guy is us discussing fucking in the backseat of the car, so...”
Colin threw a quick look at the backseat, like the guy was somehow hiding back there. “You didn't.”
“No.”
Colin nodded. “No wonder you called me and not Pat. Does she know?”
Ryan shook his head. “No. But I'm willing to bet it'll be all over the news this morning, so I guess she'll figure it out soon enough.”
“Christ, Ryan.”
“Yeah.” Suddenly he smiled. “I hope Dick got home okay.”
“Dick?”
“The guy. The 'male companion.'”
“You picked up a guy named Dick at a gay bar?”
Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before Colin looked back to the road, but it was enough. A moment later, they both burst into laughter. Maybe it was the restless night or the stress or who knows what, but it was suddenly the funniest thing Ryan had ever heard. Every time he quieted down, Colin would start up and set him off again. He laughed so hard that tears were streaming down his face, and he was gasping for breath by the time he was done.
“Yeah,” he said, still trying to catch his breath. “I guess I did.”
After that they both fell silent again, but the tension was gone.
The were well out of the city now; Ryan looked at the horizon in the side mirror, but he couldn't even see a hint of it. Colin kept his eyes on the road, a small smile on his lips, but as the miles passed beneath them, the smile slowly faded. “So,” he said, checking his mirrors as he merged right, their exit quickly approaching. “Since when have you been into men, anyway?”
The question took Ryan by surprise, even though he should have expected it. “I’m not into-” he started, but that wasn’t necessarily true. Since I met you? he considered, but then shoved that thought down and looked out the window. “I mean…I guess…I don’t know. I guess I figured I’d give it a try.”
Ryan gripped the door handle, leaning against the centripetal force as they rounded the exit ramp, and Colin gave him a sidelong glance. Ryan caught it out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t dare meet it. He hurried on, not wanting Colin to question him further. “Hey, I’ve kissed you enough times on the show, right? Guess it got in my brain.”
That’s it, he thought. Make it a joke. Pull him in. Colin won’t want to keep it going if it implies that there might be something off about him, too.
But Colin wasn’t one to be deterred so easily. “But those weren’t real kisses. They didn’t mean anything.”
Ryan cringed. Technically, they didn’t mean anything to him, either, but for some reason hearing the words stung. “Right,” he agreed. “I was just…never mind, okay?”
Colin nodded slowly in answer.
They turned right at the end of the ramp and headed a couple miles down to the entrance of Ryan's neighborhood. Ryan just hoped that the conversation was finished. He wasn't in the mood to continue to defend himself just now, especially as he just remembered that he would have to deal with his awakening family when they finally arrived at his house, but he had no such luck.
“So…” Colin said. Something was different in his voice now. “You’ve never…you know…with a guy before, right?”
Ryan looked at him curiously and shook his head. “No.” He frowned as they pulled up to the gate. “Have you?”
Colin didn’t answer as he rolled down the window to input Ryan’s gate code into a freestanding keypad. Ryan was thankful that Colin somehow knew it, as he’d only punched it in the day before by rote memory, and he wasn’t sure he actually remembered it well enough to dictate the sequence. The gate started to open slowly, and Colin faced forward again, but he still wasn’t answering. His lips were pressed into a thin, thoughtful line.
“Have you,” Ryan asked again as the car started to move again.
“No!” Colin said suddenly. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”
He was so seemingly offended by the fact that Ryan would even ask him about being with another man that Ryan immediately thought back to his to do list, to the crossed off item: Tell Colin how. In his mind he immediately remedied that to Never tell Colin.
It was closing in on 7 a.m., and Ryan expected to see his family moving around behind the home’s large windows, but everything seemed oddly quiet, and furthermore, Pat’s car wasn’t in the drive. Ryan tried to guess where they were, but it was then that it occurred to him that he didn’t know what day of the week it was. Hell, he didn’t even know the date beyond it being somewhere in 2001. If he had to guess, he would say it was either Monday or Tuesday, and Pat was taking the kids to school. If he was right, he had maybe a half hour before she got back, maybe less. Maybe more if she had shopping to do.
“We’re here,” Colin was saying beside him. “You should get some sleep. I’ll call a cab.”
“No!” Ryan protested, looking at him. For some reason the idea of being alone with himself after the night he'd had seemed absolutely appalling. Colin was staring at him, and Ryan hurried on. “I mean, I can’t stay here. Just let me grab some stuff, and I’ll give you a ride back to the hotel. I have to write you a check for that plane ticket anyway, right?”
Colin almost smiled. “With interest.”
“You got it, buddy.”
He nodded slowly, still watching Ryan curiously. “And Pat-”
“Isn’t even here,” Ryan hurried to tell him. “We’ll be in and out.”
“I’m not lying for you.”
“You won’t have to,” Ryan assured him. “I promise.”
It took a few more minutes, but finally Colin agreed to stick around just a little longer. He came in to use the bathroom, then offered to put on a pot of coffee as Ryan went to his bedroom to pack a small bag. As he shoved a couple pairs of pants and some t-shirts into a duffle bag , Ryan could hear the muffled sound of Colin talking to Deb on the phone downstairs and explaining why he’d be home late.
The thought of Colin heading back to Toronto upset Ryan for some reason, and it just occurred to him that he had no idea where he was going to go or what he was going to do. He hadn’t put any thought into it when he’d told Pat she could stay in the house, but if he really was stuck in this place or time or whatever, then that meant he’d have to either make up with her or find his own place. And he’d have to explain all that to Colin at one point, which somehow seemed like the worst part of it all after Colin’s explosion in the car.
“I’m going to grab the newspaper!” Colin suddenly called from downstairs, as though to drive that point home.
“Okay!”
The front door opened and closed, and Ryan sighed. Suddenly, as he stood over his half packed bag, he felt overwhelmingly tired. He wouldn’t mind lying down in his bed and sleeping for a week. But that wasn’t an option. He had to get everything together and get out of there before Pat came back. He was just about finished, but he felt like he was missing something.
He sucked in a breath as he remembered his phones. He should grab the charger for the Nokia, but he wasn’t sure what he could do for the iPhone. He was just about to pull it out and check the remaining battery life when a commotion caught his attention.
It sounded like at least a dozen voices, all yelling over one another. Immediately Ryan thought of the paparazzi from the night before, and his heart sank. He hurried out of the bedroom and across the hall, toward the front of the house. Through the open window of the computer room, he could see the expanse of his front lawn and the street beyond.
Colin had reached the end of the lawn, and he was bending down to pick up the newspaper, but right past the driveway's gates were a smattering of paparazzi, all yelling questions at him. It seemed impossible to Ryan that they’d descend on the house so soon after his and Colin's arrival, but they’d probably been waiting for him. Colin was doing a commendable job of ignoring them, but Ryan could hear them surprisingly clearly from the house, and it made him feel sick.
“Colin!” he heard. “Colin! Is Ryan home? Is Ryan there? Colin!!” It was a number of different voices, but they all blended together. “Is it true that Ryan’s gay? Where is his wife? Are you his lover? Were you with him last night? Is it true he’s getting a divorce? Does his wife know you’re here? Talk to us! Colin! Colin!!”
Colin had turned away from them like he hadn’t even heard them, his face blank as he started back up the long lawn toward the front door.
“I’m so sorry,” Ryan whispered.
The paparazzi were still yelling, and suddenly one loud voice called, “Why is Ryan’s wife moving out?”
Ryan saw Colin stop, then slowly turn back to them. If he said something, Ryan couldn’t hear it, but the din from the paparazzi lulled for a moment, then started up again, louder than before. Colin took one step toward them, and Ryan leaned forward, listening hard, but he still couldn’t hear anything Colin was possibly saying.
One of the paparazzo was digging in his bag. He produced a paper and shoved it through the iron bars of the gate, showing Colin something. Colin stared at it for a long moment, then yanked it out of the man’s hand. The paparazzo was yelling at him now, but Colin didn’t seem to hear him. He shook his head and started walking backwards. The voices of the paparazzi raised louder still, but Colin spun and jogged back toward the house, ignoring them.
Ryan was frozen, staring at the paparazzi as Colin neared the house. What had they shown him? Was it him and Dick the night before? Could that have been one of the men down on Santa Monica Boulevard?
There was a bang as the door flew open downstairs, and then Colin yelled, “Ryan!”
Ryan snapped out of his reverie and looked to the hallway.
“Ryan! Damn it, Ryan, answer me!”
Feeling nauseous, Ryan started toward the sound of his voice.
He met Colin on the second floor landing just above the staircase. Colin was holding what appeared to be an 8 by 10 glossy picture, and he waved it at Ryan as he approached. “Pat is moving out?” he said, shoving the picture at Ryan. “When were you going to tell me?”
Ryan carefully took the picture and looked it over. One of the paparazzi had photographed Pat loading the kids and a number of suitcases in her car. Apparently she felt the need to get out of the house, too, even though Ryan had told her he would be the one leaving.
He shook his head slowly. “She’s probably just staying with her parents for a few days. She said she might do that.”
“And why would she do that?”
Ryan snorted and gave Colin a look. He was a big boy; he could figure it out.
Colin stared at him for a long moment. “You’re getting a divorce.” It wasn’t a question. Colin seemed infinitely sad and confused, and something about it struck a nerve in Ryan. When the hell did Colin start caring about his marriage?
“Yeah,” he snapped. “I’m getting a divorce. So?” Huffing, he shoved the picture back at Colin and swept past him to make his way downstairs.
He could feel Colin’s eyes on his back the whole way down.
“So!?” he heard, followed by Colin thumping down the steps after him. “So I had to find out about this from those wolves outside, how about that?” Ryan hit the first floor and kept going, but Colin’s voice didn’t stop. “Or what about the fact that you decided to get drunk with strangers instead of confiding in your best friend? Ryan? Ryan will you stop and talk to me?”
Ryan didn’t stop. He rounded a corner and strode into the kitchen, not sure why he was there, but knowing he had to do something, anything to distract himself. He looked around wildly, but his brain wasn’t working, and he just ended up standing in the middle of the floor, breathing hard.
“You’re getting a divorce!” Colin said, still going. Ryan wanted to punch him and run away. “And you’re in West Hollywood picking up guys and attacking paparazzi! Do you know how that looks?”
Ryan snapped. “Like I’m gay?” he asked, spinning to face Colin. His hands were balled into fists at his side. “Are you worried about my reputation? Or are you worried that associating with me makes you look gay?”
Colin paused, frowning and seemingly at a loss for words, and Ryan rolled his eyes.
“So I guess you don’t want to be seen with me anymore? Fine. Get the fuck out, then.”
“Ryan,” Colin said, sighing. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
Ryan scoffed. He turned away, and, still looking for something to keep him busy, decided to fetch a cup of coffee. He grabbed a mug and went to fill it, but found his hand shaking when he lifted the coffee pot.
“I’m just confused,” Colin said behind him. He sounded sad again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“That I like dick?”
“That you were having problems,” Colin came back, unfazed.
But Ryan wasn’t ready to cave and play nice just yet. This whole situation had him too on edge. “Didn’t know you cared.” He still wouldn't face Colin, though he could still feel the weight of his eyes on him.
“Ryan?” Colin asked quietly, “what's wrong with you?”
Where do I start? he thought, but he just muttered, “Thanks for making coffee,” then pushed past Colin and left the room.
* * *
He stayed tucked away for over an hour, mostly just sitting on the back patio and smoking and drinking his coffee, which, he had to admit, was pretty damned good.
He could still hear the low rumblings of the paparazzi at his gate. He had taken a peek through a front window at one point to see that the crowd had thinned, but only by a few people. The most tenacious, including-to his surprise-the man he'd assaulted the night before, were still milling about his gate and waiting for a glimpse of him. It was as though they fully expected him to start fucking Colin right there on the front lawn for everyone and god to see.
Though, he thought with a smirk, that did seem like fun. But then he frowned, realizing that Colin would probably just give him another lecture for even suggesting it. When had he become such a stick in the mud anyway?
He'd considered calling the police to disperse them, but he didn't feel like dealing with any more cops before he could help it, so instead he decided to hide out in the backyard while he fantasized about spraying the lot of them with his hose or mowing them down with his car.
It killed Ryan a little to realize that he'd done this to himself. If he hadn't been in such a hurry to get in trouble, the press would still be ignoring him, and L.A. wouldn't be a sure fire shit storm for the next week or so. And to make matters worse, he was sure he'd lost Colin's friendship as well, or at least his trust. He probably wasn't actually allowed to leave the county before his trial, but staying wasn't an option, either. He had to get the hell out of there-and fast.
He left the cup on the patio table and made his way back into the house. It was oddly quiet, and Ryan thought with another pang of guilt that it seemed like Colin had cleared out, though how he'd gotten past the paparazzi was anyone's guess. Oh well. Trying to quelch the disappointment that bubbled up in him at the thought of being alone once again, Ryan headed back to his bedroom to finish packing.
When he was ready to go, he carried the duffle bag downstairs, and then, after a moment of thought, decided to fetch his mug from the back patio and give it a quick rinse before he left. Leaving dirty dishes around would do nothing but anger Pat when she finally returned home, and Ryan figured it was about time he stopped trying to piss people off.
But when he went to retrieve the cup, it was gone. Frowning, he checked around the table, wondering if an oddly strong gust of wind had blown it to the ground, but no such luck.
“What the fuck?”
“I was washing mine, so I figured I'd take care of yours, too.”
Ryan gasped, then spun around to see Colin standing in the open doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. Despite everything, Ryan broke out in a wide grin.
“I'd thought that you'd left.”
Colin shrugged. He looked blank. “Still here.” Then he seemed to think about it a little more and tilted his head to one side, considering. “I should have, though. You're an ass.”
Ryan chuckled weakly, nodding. “I am. I really, really am.” He took a deep breath, then started forward. “Colin, really, I am so sor-”
But Colin held up a hand, stopping him. “It's okay,” he hurried to assure Ryan. “I know you've been under a lot-”
But now it was Ryan's turn to cut Colin off. He took three long strides toward him, then pulled him into a tight hug. Startled, Colin stopped speaking. He stood there for a few seconds, his arms at his sides, and then very slowly, he hugged Ryan back.
“So,” he said, giving Ryan one final squeeze, then pulling back to look at him, “where are we going?”
It took a moment for that to sink in. Ryan raised his eyebrows, and he had to fight to keep from smiling. “We?”
“You seriously don't think I'm going to let you take off on your own after all the trouble you've gotten into, do you? You need a babysitter.
“And besides,” Colin continued, wagging one finger at him, “you still owe me for that plane ticket. Though by now it's going to cost you double.”
It was a joke, but it had Ryan cringing. Just another way he'd screwed Colin over.
It occurred to him then that he'd done nothing but insult, inconvenience, and take advantage of Colin in the past few hours, whereas Colin had done nothing but help him. And now here he was, offering his help once again, with a smile on his face and a joke on his lips. Had he always treated Colin this way? Was this why Colin had shut him out; why he'd left L.A.?
“Shit,” he muttered, frowning. “You don't have to do that. Let me just write you a check. Triple the cost of the ticket.”
“No,” Colin said, shaking his head and then turning and heading back inside and gesturing for Ryan to follow. “Don't do that. You're not getting rid of me so easily. I saw your bag by the front door. So like I said: where are we going?”
“I-you-” Ryan shook his head, still caught up in his guilt. “You don't have to come with me.”
Colin smiled at him. “I know.”
They made it to the front door, and Colin stopped, looking at him expectantly. Ryan watched him back, completely overwhelmed by Colin's gesture. And for maybe the first time, he wasn't scared or ashamed to think that part of him was definitely in love with Colin. Though he still wasn't ready to say it.
“I don't deserve you,” he said instead.
“No, you don't,” Colin agreed, still smiling. “But seriously! For the third time-where the hell are we going!?”
“No fucking clue,” Ryan told him, chuckling. He bent down, scooped up the duffle bag, and gestured for Colin to lead the way. “Let's go find out.”
To be continued...