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Chapter 6 - 'Elegant'
by sky_star (sky_star)
at April 23rd, 2007 (06:43 pm)

Current mood: nervous
Current song: Embrace - 'Gravity'

Chapter number: 6
Chapter theme: Elegant
Word Count: 1406
Warnings: None. Harmless.
Disclaimer: The writing is for entertainment only and not for money-making purposes. No implication or assumption is intended on the real life persons.
Notes: Being a clean, brain scrubber-free Col/Ry all the way myself (read: hopeless romantic), as a gift to this nice and welcoming community, I shall pretend that I ain’t *wink*. The inspiration came from a particular episode of ‘Torchwood’.

A fortnight had passed since Brad had the unfortunate encounter with the table. One didn’t need a wizened seer to profess that in a battle between flesh and furniture, there was ever only one loser. Happily, the cast that the sweet on-set nurse had suggested was merely a precaution. This, however, put Brad out of action for two weeks, and Greg bounced in, readily covering the fourth spot for the subsequent two tapings. Any guilt that might have lingered in the bespectacled man’s mind, vanished hastily at the welcoming applause and eager cheers that echoed beyond the cameras, in the darkness. This was business, after all. He’d called the indisposed, of course, and was greeted with good news that the cast was to unshackle in time for next weekend.

‘He’s clearly enjoying it’, Ryan smiled, as the notion registered merely on the surface of his mind while the depths of it were cast towards another. There was a lull in filming and Greg had taken it upon himself to entertain the masses with yet another prickly verbal duel with The Lord of The Buzzer.
“Are ya getting enough exercise there?” he riffed, miming the button action with his finger. “’Cause, we sure are. Mr Boss man.” No hate ever entered their exchanges, and all Drew could do was smile embarrassment into his tie, giggling slightly as he willed a worthy comeback to dawn on him. Jumping in, Wayne scuppered any hope.
“Yeah, stick it to the man. Stick it.” he beamed his thousand watt smile at the Proopster. There it was, at last!
“Keep sticking it, and I’ll stick you out the door!” Drew retorted triumphantly. Ryan echoed Colin’s gracious laugh next to him, yet his seemed hollow in comparison. Winter was in his mind. The filming season was in its final ebb as summer teetered on their doorstep and with slight alarm he’d cursed the passage of time. Only a few short filming sessions and they’d be released into the wild, liberated for the holidays, leaving editors and producers to sift and sieve through the material, critically dismissing anything that was sub-par. He wondered if Brad’s last work would wind up on the cutting room floor.
There was so little time. He’d have to act soon.
“Fist positions, everyone!” shouted a short, balding man yanking everyone back to reality. “We are going for a take in five, four, three…”

“Fifteen minutes, Mr Stiles.” Acknowledging with a quiet nod, Ryan listened as Joe the runner strode dutifully past his room and towards other tasks. Shortly, his footsteps paused at his neighbour’s door.
“Fifteen minutes, Mr Sherwood.” The meek voice echoed yet another invitation to the stage. Nerves pitched up a miniature squall inside Ryan’s gut as his thoughts drifted towards Brad once more. There were many things to say and the what wasn’t the problem, it was the how.
Ryan had wished to visit, of course, but it would have been too risky. It was a game he and Colin played, their long lasting friendship dispelling any awkwardness. Heads turned, but he’d easily laugh them off, secretly even fuelling and reveling in the ambiguity. This was different.

“Lay off on the touchey-feeley, will ya?” Colin had protested with an air of someone with a long suffering fate, while Wayne was singing his thing for a giggly silver-headed grandmother who’d been pulled out of the audience moments prior. “People will say we’re in love.”
“Oh, you know you like it.” Ryan had teased with a secret grin. “We are well beyond denying it.” He concluded chuckling, enjoying the on-going joke. Colin simply shook his head in resigned defeat. The audience loved it, who were they not to abide their sworn duty to entertain the masses.
Three weeks of absence and Brad had returned, flaring up musings and ponderings that he’d committed too much time to already. They were circling each other, their gravity-fuelled orbit shortening the distance all the while. God, was he deluding himself? Had Brad not looked at him askance upon an invitation to his own dressing room? At the same time, though, he hadn’t refused neither his shirt nor his sofa.

“Hey, Ry.” A familiar voice entered his room followed closely by a beaming Colin himself. “Ready for the limelight?” They shook hands in greeting, and for the briefest of moments, Ryan envisaged how Brad’s hand would feel in his.
“You betcha.” A sigh escaped involuntarily and it was too late to cover, Colin’s finely-tuned radar had caught it.
“Are you ok?” his chrome-domed friend questioned after the slightest of pauses. There weren’t any secrets between them. Until now.
“Oh, nothing… sugar content of bananas…” a feeble random attempt. “Nothing at all.” He’d have to speak today, before summer pulled them apart for six months.

The taping had progressed without histrionics, excluding Drew fumbling his lines and schoolboy versions of the infamous Hoedown. The rotund host had opened with the usual piece de resistance expected of him.
“Who’s rad? It’s Brad Sherwood!... Who’s with it? Wayne Brady!... Who’s cool? Colin Mochrie!...and who’s that guy? It’s Ryan Stiles!” He’d laughed less with humour than politeness, mentally reminding himself to have a talk with Drew about his waning improv skills.
He’d felt Brad’s eyes on the side of his face, yet upon his reply glance he’d found the other man’s attentions focused elsewhere. Delusion or not, they’d have to talk.

Colin said his goodbyes and left, albeit somewhat surprised at Ryan’s reluctance to follow to their favourite bar. Shrugging his excuses he hoped that no suspicion befell his actions. The corridor had fallen silent, the only sound being a little radio muttering some non-descript song in the corner. He sat, staring at the door willing himself to get up against the weight of doubt that balanced heavily on his shoulders. It’s time.
Someone knocked, shocking the hush.
“Come in.” he beckoned uncertainly, wondering if it was Dan hoping to catch him before he left. A familiar figure materialized in his doorway instead.
“How is the leg?”
“Oh…it’s fine thanks, nothing was broken so... Was it ok with Greg?”
“Yeah, his stand-up was on hiatus.”
“Oh cool…”
The dark-haired man edged into the room then, pushing the door back behind him, although not closing it fully.
“I…we need to talk.” He began in quiet tones, mindful perhaps that his words didn’t reach a stray ear. He’d thought about it then, Ryan realized with slight relief and nodded in agreement. For the first time in his whole life his mind fell blank for words. Improv was effortless, phrases and voices instinctual and easy. He’d conversed with his own imagination for weeks on end, yet now nothing appropriate surfaced.
“I don’t know what this is…We…” He didn’t sound convinced. “…but I can’t, don’t think I can do this...” A little afraid and confused, perhaps? “I mean… I like women.” Brad was as elegant as ever with the foot in his mouth. Words favoured nether of them this evening. Ryan decided something there and then. It was perfectly simple, as effortless as a one, a two and a three.
His hands reacted first, before his mind could follow and rationalize why he’d acted the way he did. All he knew was that he’d taken Brad’s hand in his, who’d suddenly clammed up. They stood there flabbergasted, one reflecting on how much softer this hand seemed, the other’s mind full of muted questions. The radio murmured nonchalantly behind them.
“What are you doing, man?” the latter asked.
“Dancing.” was all that the former said, as if that single word explained it all. He realized with slight relief that Brad’s tense hand had relaxed slowly. He put his other around Brad’s waist.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” What was that? A note of amusement?
“Oh yeah. Like Fred Astaire.” Ryan deadpanned, holding on lightly so as to give his dance partner an escape route. Brad didn’t take it.
“You weren’t much of a dancer. Or a singer for that matter.”
“Oh? Who came up with ‘and you can’t say nuts unless you are talking about the kind you eat’ then?” Ryan smiled not permitting their eyes to meet. Questions remained.
“Well..” Brad hadn’t noticed how he’d began to sway in time with the music. His heart punched adrenalin up to his ears, into his eyes, clouding his mind slightly. “Ryan, this is totally…” he trailed off. Words weren’t necessary.


Posted by: zombie_kitty666 (zombie_kitty666)
Posted at: April 23rd, 2007 08:02 pm (UTC)
teddy greg


Torchwood based chapter! I loved the dancing Jacks bit - That whole ep was so gorgeous! As was this! *pets all the guys in turn*

I have nothing constructive to say so gonna end this with an awww and a well done!...

Posted by: sky_star (sky_star)
Posted at: April 25th, 2007 02:40 pm (UTC)

Dancing Jacks is teh love! I squeed all through that eppy. ...Now if only my parents understood! XD
I am really glad thee enjoyed it. :D This really didn't come out too shabbily either, being my very first fan fic. Ever. ^^


Posted by: I broke the f*cking dam! (sess_satan)
Posted at: April 23rd, 2007 08:12 pm (UTC)
ZK's Brad gorgeousss

Being a clean, brain scrubber-free Col/Ry all the way myself (read: hopeless romantic), as a gift to this nice and welcoming community, I shall pretend that I ain’t *wink*.

WISE choice! The peeps around these parts have...a bit of a thing about Ryan/Colin. Best to keep quiet about it, lol.

Anyways, amazing chapter. By the end my nose was nearly pressed up against the computer screen in anticipation.

And I love the 'Lord of the Buzzer' bit! I'll probably start using that in regular speech.

God, I LOVE the way this fic is going!

Posted by: I broke the f*cking dam! (sess_satan)
Posted at: April 23rd, 2007 08:54 pm (UTC)
ZK's tongue spankage

Forgot to give you your big, fat APPROVED.
Well...there it is.

Posted by: sky_star (sky_star)
Posted at: April 25th, 2007 02:36 pm (UTC)

Waaah, ya made me sweat a lil', ya cheeky gal.
I am glad that there was not too much disappointment for the Ryan/Brad-ers. (Lol.. gosh, what is this 'a bit of a thing'...is it a negative 'un? O_O *oops*)


Posted by: through the smoke rings of my mind (tambourine_lady)
Posted at: April 23rd, 2007 08:52 pm (UTC)

Oh, I loved that ending. Wonderfully romantic.
Oh and yay for Torchwood inspiration. :)

Posted by: sky_star (sky_star)
Posted at: April 25th, 2007 02:37 pm (UTC)

Hee hee... I am such a soppy romantic sod (with a soft spot for h/c)
Hooray for Torchwood... now if only the BBC didn't charge 25 quid ...per four episodes. X_X


Posted by: shandi_mai (shandi_mai)
Posted at: April 24th, 2007 01:31 am (UTC)

Wonderfully written and so very sweet. Good job :)


Posted by: sky_star (sky_star)
Posted at: April 25th, 2007 02:38 pm (UTC)

Thank you kindly ^___^

Posted by: the_empressar (the_empressar)
Posted at: May 12th, 2007 06:03 pm (UTC)
Getting there...
hang on

One thing you've taught me my friend is that I need to brush up on my VOCABULARY!!! My Goodness!!! What is your IQ???? I really admire your wit! I've been meaning to say somthing to that effect for a while. (I had to see you write first...lol) GREAT JOB!!!

Posted by: sky_star (sky_star)
Posted at: June 6th, 2007 11:09 pm (UTC)
Re: Getting there...

Damn you!
Lol, had I seen this comment sooner, I might not have pulled out. XD... whoops.
*runs away and hides*

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