Falling Into Fervour: Chapter Three
Title: Falling Into Fervour - 3/6
Pairing: Colin/Ryan
Overall Rating: R
Chapter Rating: PG-13
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Colin, meanwhile, was pacing about in the living area of his apartment; unaware of just what a state Ryan was in.
He’s been gone for ages, he thought, checking his watch and biting his nails. No one can possibly smoke for that long… He wiped his eyes as tears tried to emerge again, he needed Ryan to comfort him. What if he’s not coming back? What if I freaked him out and he’s left and he doesn’t want to see me again? No, I won’t think like that. He just needed some time to think all of this over, that’s all. He’ll be back through the door any minute and he’ll hold me again and it’ll all be fine. Yeah, just keep thinking that, Colin, maybe it’s true.
He checked the time again. It had now been thirty minutes since Ryan had gone and all Colin had done in that time was worry and fret. He caught sight of his own jacket lying on the coffee table and thought for a moment that perhaps he should go out looking for him. Despite the fact that it was a ridiculous notion that Ryan would just leave without telling him, Colin found himself unable to stop as he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. There was no harm in checking, after all.
After opening the front door, he looked left and right, hoping to catch sight of Ryan or the small orange glow of his cigarette in the darkness. The light above the door only illuminated a fair few metres of the street below, making it hard for Colin to see anything more.
His eyes then noticed the entrance to the alley not so far away and his stomach writhed in some kind of instinct reflex. He had the strange compulsion to look down it, as if it were absolutely necessary. He didn’t even really think about it even as he cautiously approached - it was as if an invisible force was guiding him. And there was this feeling in his gut, in his mind, that he wasn’t going to like what was round the corner.
Cautiously, he peered around the bend as his eyes tried to focus in the dark that shrouded the passage, a shadowed path that seemed to go on forever. The scent of dirt hit him immediately and his nose scrunched in response, attempting to get past the initial spike of unpleasantness. He looked around and saw a couple of trashcans not too far from where he was standing and figured that they must be causing the stench. Colin deemed this place as uninteresting and shrugged, about to turn and go back inside. That was before he noticed something poking out from behind the bins.
A foot, clad in a sneaker and decidedly large, was twitching next to another identical foot behind it. Colin felt his heart stop, triple jump and come up to take point in his constricting throat. There was, of course, only one person he knew who had feet that large and he hoped to God it wasn‘t what it looked like.
He found himself stepping forward subconsciously to get a better view, or an unbearable confirmation. Now, he could see the dull outline of Ryan’s head and shoulders, sat up against the wall and noting how he began to make strained noises, presumably in pain. The light from the streets allowed Colin to see the faint red liquid on Ryan’s face, emanating from slashes and cuts across his brow and lips, staining the pale skin.
He was now conscious, thank God.
“Ryan?” Colin gasped in shock and ran in to tend to his broken friend, falling to his knees beside him and finally getting a proper view of him. “Christ, what happened to you?”
The other man looked at Colin fleetingly, grimaced and moaned, tasting the faint iron hint of blood on his tongue and coughed. His voice was a whisper when he spoke. “Colin…”
“It’s okay, Ryan,” Colin replied, stroking away a bit of lose fringe from Ryan’s eyes. “God… Ry, what happened? Who did this to you?”
Ryan was breathing through his clenched teeth, eyes squeezing shut in a vain effort to numb the pain. “I was… having a smoke and there was… this guy…” The rest of his story was cut off when he groaned quietly under his breath as he tentatively felt the cuts on his head. “God, I must look like a mess…”
“Okay, okay it’s all right, you’re gonna be fine.” Colin wasn’t sure who exactly he was reassuring - himself or Ryan. “Can you move, Ry? D’you think you can walk up to the apartment?”
“Yeah, I should be fine…” hissed Ryan through his teeth.
He groaned as he manoeuvred himself up onto his feet, using Colin as leverage. The shorter man was right there supporting most of Ryan’s weight as he eventually stood up, his arm slung over Colin’s shoulders and leaning into him as he tried to get steady. Then, they began to walk at a snail’s pace, it being the most comfortable for Ryan as any faster and his body would protest with a sharp ache up his back.
With some considerable difficulty, Colin had managed to guide Ryan to his room. As they entered, Colin looked back at Ryan’s face - it was pale, looking like there was no blood running underneath the skin. As if it had all seeped out over his cheek and mouth, down his neck and disappearing down his shirt and onto his chest.
“You look awful,” he commented, stroking Ryan’s face again until some blood had smeared onto his finger. “I’m gonna get you cleaned up, okay?”
Ryan nodded. “Okay.”
Colin guided Ryan through to the bathroom and sat him down on the edge of the bathtub, keeping his arms secure around him. Leaning over, he turned on the faucet to allow the tub to fill with warm water whilst he began to remove Ryan’s jacket and shirt.
“Col… I’m sorry,” Ryan said when he peered into the nearby mirror and saw just how gruesome he looked with blood all over his face and neck. Colin looked at him, confused as he folded Ryan‘s jacket and put it aside. “What? Why are you sorry?”
“I don’t know, I just have a feeling that I should be.” He bit his lip and shivered as Colin took off his bloodstained shirt, exposing his bare chest.
“Don’t apologise, Ryan. You have nothing to be sorry for, alright?”
Ryan nodded again, watching as Colin reached into a cabinet and pulled out a washcloth, soaking it into the bathwater. “Careful, this might sting a bit.” he warned as he wrung it out and sat down next to Ryan. Pressing it to the sensitive cuts and marks, Colin attempted to clean off the dripping blood and then tend to the wounds themselves, taking added care not to use too much pressure in order to avoid causing Ryan any more pain.
“Where else does it hurt?” Colin asked, still wiping at the encrusted blood on Ryan’s cheek. Ryan swallowed and tried to focus on where the pain was rather that how much of it was there.
“All up my back, mainly.”
Colin nodded his head slightly in understanding, leaning over to get a view of Ryan’s bare back. He shook his head in disbelief, mouth agape, when he saw that the skin was peppered with dark bruises, large purple blobs scattered haphazardly, some of them blossoming into blues and reds. Looking back at Ryan’s face, Colin felt his stomach churn when he realised that the blood simply wouldn’t stop flowing from his head wound. “Jesus, did this guy have metal fists or something?”
“No, there were… three of them,” Ryan admitted, glancing away as Colin‘s eyes widened.
“Three of them!?” he repeated. “What exactly happened?”
The taller man closed his eyes as he replayed the terrifying experience in his head. “Well, they were in that alley where I was smoking and they, erm… started sneering at me.”
“You fought back over something like that?” Colin interrupted. Ryan shook his head and breathed through his teeth again as even that small action bit into his pain.
“No, I couldn’t care less what they were saying about me, I’ve taken worse. But then…” He looked away as he began to felt a bit embarrassed. “Then they started to make these malicious comments about you and I just got so angry. I wasn‘t about to let anybody speak like that about you, so I just lashed out. But I was, uh… kind of outnumbered,” he smiled to himself in attempt at lightening the mood, which nearly worked.
Colin was incredibly moved when he heard that Ryan had fought back in defence for him, even though he wasn’t there. His heart fluttered when he looked again at just what punishment Ryan had suffered for being so completely selfless. “You have to go to the police about this,” he suggested, washing away the blood that had made it onto Ryan’s collarbone and chest.
Ryan looked horrified. “I can’t. They said if I did, they’d come back for you. I don’t want you to get hurt like this, Col. I care too much about you to ever cause something like that.”
Colin sighed. “Ryan, these guys are dangerous. We have to tell somebody to make sure they never do this again.”
“No Colin, please, you cannot report this. I can’t bear to risk seeing you get hurt. Promise me you won‘t.” It was hard to ignore the pleading tone in Ryan’s voice, soft and needy like an animal’s whining calls.
“Okay, Ryan. I promise I won’t. But you should. Think about it, okay?” Colin smiled warmly as he wrung out the cloth into the bath, watching as blood playfully mingled with the clean, clear water. The cloth itself, a once-pale blue colour, had now been painted a dark red, turning it slightly purple.
By now, all the blood had been cleaned from Ryan’s face and it seemed that the various wounds had momentarily stopped bleeding. Inspecting his hair, Colin noticed just how dirty it had gotten from connecting with the filthy floor in the alley.
“Wait here,” he said, and disappeared into the other room, returning moments later with a wooden chair. He placed the seat so that the headrest was against the base of the sink and turned on the faucets there, allowing the water to pool into the basin. He gestured for Ryan to sit down and helped him in doing so, noting that he was still a little sore with walking.
Colin began to rinse through Ryan’s dark locks, sifting through to rid it of dirt and other nasty things with his fingers. The massaging sensation Colin applied to his scalp felt wonderful and Ryan sighed in relaxation, closing his eyes and enjoying the cleansing attention. Fetching a bottle of shampoo from the cabinet, Colin poured some into Ryan’s hair and worked up a lather of the fruit-scented conditioner. “Mmm, that’s nice, Colin.”
Colin didn’t reply, but smiled and continued working, making sure Ryan was as relaxed as possible.
Opening his eyes a bit, Ryan become aware of the fact that Colin’s face was now in close proximity to his own and for some reason, he found himself focusing on the Canadian’s soft lips. He was treated to something new when Colin’s tongue stuck out in concentration; wetting those lips and making them look very attractive. Ryan suddenly had the urge to kiss him, to taste him, to see if his lips really were as appetising as they looked.
What’s wrong with me? he thought suddenly. I’m not gay! We had that thing once but that was a very long time ago. I’m straight, I’m definitely straight. But… I guess I’ve always felt attracted to him, and he has just come out… Ryan stopped himself before that thought could lead anywhere else.
Once Colin had finished washing and drying his hair, Ryan looked up at him and smiled, irises gleaming appreciatively. “Thank you, Col, that was great. I feel a lot better.”
“No problem,” replied Colin, drying his hands with a towel. “You’re my friend and you need to be taken care of. I‘m more than happy to do it.”
As Ryan stood up he stretched and winced, holding his back in pain. Colin came in quickly with arms outstretched, ready to help. “Are you still hurting, Ry?”
“Yeah, but it’s not as bad as before. I think that’s an improvement,” he assumed with a slight smile.
“Certainly seems like it,” Colin agreed, positioning himself under Ryan’s arm again. “C’mon, you can sleep in my bed.”
They walked into the cool bedroom, Colin instinctively flicking on the light switch. He then began to assist the tall man in taking off his jeans and footwear and easing Ryan under the covers of the double bed, tucking him in.
Ryan laughed as his friend tucked the blanket under his chin. “Gee, Colin. I’m not a baby.”
“Yeah, well I’m a Mother Hen. I need to tend to my young, or the next best thing, my wounded best friend.”
“You’re not gonna chuck up some food for me, are you?” Ryan joked.
They both chuckled, the incident of the night almost forgotten. Colin looked deep into those emerald irises that he loved so much and sighed, sitting onto the bed next to Ryan‘s 6’6” frame. Then, in a moment of brotherly love, leaned over and gave him a soothing hug, rubbing his shoulders.
“Ryan, don’t ever do anything like this again, okay? I was scared to death when I found you all bloody like that...” He pulled away and closed his eyes against the unwelcome images of Ryan’s battered form lying in a dingy, dark alleyway.
“I’m sorry, Colin. I’m sorry I put you through that,” Ryan said as leaned back against the pillows. Ryan could feel the previous urge to kiss Colin flair up again and this time, he couldn’t fight it. Tilting his chin, he planted a soft kiss onto his friend’s mouth. It was the barest brush of lips, the touch lingering for a moment longer.
Colin’s eyes were unfocused for a brief second, thinking about what had just happened. Smiling again, he smoothed Ryan’s hair and whispered, “Get some rest,” before he got off the bed and walked towards the door, pausing before it.
“I’ll be sleeping on the couch. Okay?”
Ryan nodded and yawned, his body’s way of saying that it was time for a descent into slumber. As Colin began to leave, Ryan called out for him and his head poked back around the door. “Yes?”
“Love you, Col.” Ryan sighed softly as his eyes closed.
Colin felt his heart skip a beat and his whole body fill with warmth. “I love you too, Ryan,” he replied with a grin before quietly slipping out the door and closing it, letting his patient get some much-needed rest.
Once he was sure that Colin was gone from the other side of the door, Ryan spoke his current thought with heart-felt truth before he fell into a deep sleep. “God, Colin, do I love you.”
To be continued…