And the Winner Is . . .

by xphile

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You know, it’s odd how things work out sometimes. All the time that Colin and I kept our relationship a secret, all of the shenanigans we went through to keep people from even guessing at what was really going on---in the end, it was totally pointless.

Ah, well. I guess it was inevitable. Still, the way it happened was so . . . it was Drew’s fault, even through he had no way of knowing. See, Colin and I don’t get to spend much time together apart from taping ‘Whose Line.’ We both have families to go home to; it’d be easier if Pat didn’t come to L.A. while I was taping, but she does and so we have to make the best of it.

Anyway, Colin and I hadn’t been together at all in almost a month---we hadn’t even gotten to go out to eat, much less do anything that required time and energy. Consequently, by the time we got to today’s taping, we were both more than a little desperate.

No, it’s not what you’re thinking. The sex is great, don’t get me wrong, but something far more lasting and meaningful binds us together (yes, I know it sounds corny. Get over it.). You see, I’ve known Colin for so long that he has literally become a part of me. I didn’t really understand the implications of that until the day I realized that no matter where we were or who we were with, everyone came to *me* if they wanted to know where Colin was.

There was one night that all the couples went out—Colin and Deb, Wayne and Wendy, Chip and Patty, Brad and Shawna, Greg and Jennifer, and Pat and myself. Drew brought his girlfriend and we all went out to eat. I don’t remember what exactly happened, but Colin suddenly disappeared. He didn’t tell anyone where he was going and no one really noticed he was gone until the waiter asked for our drinks. I ordered and turned to ask Colin a question.

And whaddya know---Colin wasn’t there. I didn’t really think anything odd about it; Colin is his own man and it was a safe bet that he had a legitimate reason for being gone. He wasn’t in any danger, that much I knew, but before I had a chance to ponder any further, Deb took my world and quite calmly turned it on its axis.

“Ryan, where’s Colin?” she asked me. Dumbfounded, I stared at her. Somewhat vaguely, I felt relieved that my mouth was closed. After nearly five minutes of nothing but silence and me looking at her like she’d grown another head, Deb grew slightly concerned.

“Ryan?” she said hesitantly, stretching her hand out toward me as Pat laid her hand on my arm. The soft touch stirred me out of my paralysis and I blinked.

“Sorry, Deb,” I apologized, absently nudging Pat’s hand off my arm and onto the table. “I don’t---”

And it hit me. Hard.

I *did* know where Colin was. The realization crashed into me like a tidal wave, sending me reeling back into my chair. Suddenly, the room closed in on me. I could actually feel the walls shrinking and with a choked gasp, I stumbled to my feet.

“I---I’ll go---I’ll be right back,” I stuttered as I backed away. Everyone at the table was looking at me with concern, but in my current state of mind, it did nothing but make me feel even more closed in.

“I---” I broke off and practically ran from the room, silently cursing my lack of control. My mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions, but I was only vaguely aware of it. My entire being was focused on getting to Colin. I just *knew* that if I could get to him, everything would be all right.

It didn’t work out that way, of course. I went straight to Colin and he got me calmed down, but it was only temporary. I didn’t know what the hell was going on and neither did he, but we both knew that it needed to talked about. So, with that in mind, Colin got me settled enough to act human for the duration of the meal; we had a few awkward moments when we first came back, but Colin covered it with a glib joke and an armful of jackets (it had started to rain and he noticed it as he came inside).

Dinner passed without further incident and I finally relaxed. It lasted until all the goodbyes had been said and it was only the four of us. Pat and Deb took care of the moment by moving off to one side and animatedly discussing the shopping trip they had planned for the next day. I stared at Colin for a while, drinking in the sight. He allowed to me watch him, unhindered, before sighing softly and stepping to my side.

“Meet me outside the hotel at one,” he instructed me in a low voice. I blinked, not quite sure I had heard correctly. Risking a glance at him, I found myself captivated by eyes that were burning with intensity---and something else. Something I couldn’t quite identify. Colin pulled back and moved away, holding his hand out to Deb as she came to his side. Pat tucked her hand into the crook of my arm and with a round of ‘goodbyes,’ we headed for home.

* * *

I digress. Suffice it to say that when I met Colin that night, we made enough discoveries to shove Columbus right off the map. We went to a nearby motel and talked for the rest of the night, running headlong into a few realizations and deepening our understanding of both each other and ourselves. That was actually one of the best nights of my life; we shared our first kiss, but things went no further than that. It was about companionship . . . just being together.

Now, a little less than a year later, our secret has finally come out. It’s done; there’s nothing we can do about and truthfully, I think I’m glad.

“Ryan?”

A smile springs to my lips when I hear his voice and I hold out my hand. His fingers glide across the sensitive skin of my wrist before twining comfortably with mine. I tug gently and he obeys my request, settling himself on my lap and letting his head fall to my shoulder. For a few minutes, we stay like that, reveling in each other’s presence and simply rejoicing in being together.

It can’t last, though, and with a sigh, Colin reluctantly gets up. He moves to the couch by the wall and fixes me a stern gaze.

“What are we going to do?” he demands, his voice shaking slightly.

With a slight grunt, I get to my feet and cross the room to him, laying a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently.

“I don’t know,” I murmur, my own voice a touch unsteady. Sinking down beside him, I wrap myself around him and let him feel the fear that is coursing through my veins.

“I honestly don’t know.”

* * *

Who would’ve thought that a game on ‘Whose Line’ would give us away? Wayne had just finished “Song Styles,” and the entire set was still laughing. Wayne Brady, singing to a bouncer as Judy Garland---it just doesn’t get any better than that.

That’s what started it, I think. Drew recovered enough to call the next game, which turned out to be “Film, TV, and Theatre Styles.” Colin and I were still laughing as we got up and he wrapped an arm around my waist as we stepped onto the main floor. I instantly went from amused to giddy; it had been far too long since he had touched me for any reason other than business. To the audience and our fellow cast members, it looked like Colin was asking me something. In reality, he was simply giving both of us an excuse to touch each other because we wanted to.

In retrospect, that was the beginning of the avalanche. Already relaxed from Wayne’s gimmick, Colin’s move got me just a little tipsy. I know he felt the same way, because he told me later. The combination had the overall effect of causing us to lower our guards and as we began doing the scene, we began losing our inhibitions as well. Colin was driving me nuts with his little touches and sly looks and the occasional blowing in my ear; I managed to retain enough coherency to return the favor, pressing myself up against him and licking my lips every time he looked at me. It was maddening.

Then Drew buzzed and we froze, his hand curled around my upper arm and my fingertips lightly resting on his chest.

“Porno!” Drew called, chuckling.

I had time to think that this wasn’t a good idea before Colin let himself go. I’m still not sure how we did it, but we managed to keep from doing anything that would tip the censors (which, considering some of the stuff they ‘protect’ the viewers from, is nothing short of a miracle). That is, however, *all* I can say about it.

By the time Drew buzzed a halt to the game, I was so far gone I actually couldn’t remember my name. It was a slight salve to my pride to realize that Colin wasn’t any better off, but that didn’t solve our immediate problem. Neither of us was fit to be in front of an audience and I shot Colin a desperate glance, begging him to have a solution. A helpless shrug was my response and I almost started to cry.

That’s when, God bless him, Keith broke something on his camera. Dan called a halt and told all of us to go take a break while they fixed it. Obediently, we got up and wandered off the set. Drew, Wayne, and Greg headed for the Green Room, but Colin veered off toward the restroom. After only a second’s hesitation, I followed.

* * *

Yeah, I know. A public restroom---what were we thinking? Well, you just came to the crux of the problem. We *weren’t* thinking. By then, we were both so far gone that neither of us would have cared if Drew had been selling tickets and popcorn for the show.

I didn’t even have a chance to get through the door before Colin pounced, grabbing the top of my slacks and dragging me inside a stall. His lips claimed mine for a drugging kiss and sent my last few organized thoughts somewhere over Europe. For the next few minutes, we stayed like that, rediscovering the taste and feel of each other.

I finally broke away, gasping for air and falling back against the metal wall. Colin followed, wrapping his arms around me and nuzzling his face into the side of my neck. Neither of us spoke, for fear of shattering the moment, but it had just been too long. Colin finally couldn’t take it any more and licked the side of my throat. I groaned in response and my arms tightened around him. He smiled against my neck and repeated the action, trailing a hand down my chest at the same time.

I began to squirm, knowing where this was going. His fingers had just brushed up against me when Greg dumped a full bucket of cold water on my head.

Yeah, I can see you laughing, but you don’t understand. I mean that literally. He had come into the restroom, seen what was going on, and grabbed a mop bucket that had been left under a sink.

For a few minutes, we stood there. There was no point in denying it, since Colin had yet to move his hand. Greg simply arched an eyebrow at both of us and waited patiently, knowing that one of us was going to have to say something if we wanted dry clothes. It was a good old-fashioned Mexican standoff; we were sunk and we knew it. Greg did, too, and was merely waiting to see which one of us would hang himself first.

Never think, not even to yourself, that things could be worse. Ever. You might as well send out an engraved invitation. Case in point: no sooner did that exact thought cross my mind than the sky fell yet again.

At least this time, water didn’t fall with it.

Drew burst through the door but skidded to a stop when he saw us. I have to admit, we must’ve made an interesting picture. Greg, standing there with an empty mop bucket in his hands and an expectant look on his face; Colin, soaked to the skin, his hand still lightly resting against me and disbelief etched across his face; and me, also drenched, my arms wrapped around Colin and a resigned look on my face.

The four of us stood there like idiots for nearly a full minute before Drew took charge of the situation.

“Greg, put the damn mop bucket down and get Wayne out of the Green Room!”

Greg looked at him blankly and Drew snapped, “Now!”

He sounded like the Marine he had once been and Greg jumped at his imperious tone before obeying. Colin and I got a quick look of sympathy before he hurried out the door.

Drew turned back to us and shook his head, sighing heavily. Colin opened his mouth but Drew cut him off at the knee.

“I don’t want to hear it. Right now, I just want to keep anyone else from seeing you, so shut up and get your asses to the Green Room. Are your dressing rooms locked?”

It took a second for the question to register, but we both nodded warily. A colorful string of curses flowed across the room; without thinking about it, I tightened my hold on Colin and pulled him a little closer to me. The slight movement caught Drew’s attention and he stopped mid-word, looking intently at us both. I stared back at him, gently rubbing Colin’s back with one hand. He was looking at the floor, his shoulders shaking.

“Give me the keys to your dressing rooms,” Drew finally sighed. “I’ll get you some fresh clothes.”

My hand shaking, I pulled my keys out of my pocket and tossed them to Drew. Colin made no move to get his own keys, so I dug them out of his pocket and threw them to Drew as well. After making sure he had the right keys, he turned and left and I pushed Colin back a few steps. He started to say something, but I lightly put a finger over his lips.

“Let’s get out of here before Drew sends in the dogs.”

“Okay,” he agreed softly, kissing my finger. Quickly, before I could think about it, I bent down and replaced my finger with my lips, kissing him tenderly. It lasted for a fleeting moment before Colin broke it and opened the door. A quick look proved the hallway to be empty and we made a dash for the Green Room.

* * *

I have to admit that Drew took it better than I thought he would, especially after what happened when he found us. We still don’t know what we’re going to about Greg---or our wives, for that matter. Right now, we’re waiting on word of whether or not we’re going to finish today’s taping. Colin suddenly shifts, easing one leg out in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, lifting myself off him. Strong hands pull me back down and I look at him in surprise.

“You don’t have a damn thing to be sorry for,” he tells me roughly, his eyes boring into mine.

“But---”

The door swings open, stopping me mid-sentence. Drew sticks his head in and announces, “We’re on. Let’s go.”

The ‘slam’ reverberates through the room. We sit there for a second before I gently push myself away and get to my feet, tugging Colin up with me. He brushes a light kiss across my lips for reassurance and then he is gone. Swallowing hard, I follow him.

* * *

Drew is a great deal more intelligent than he looks; his way of letting us know that he had no plans to kick either of us off the show was ingenious. It also told everyone in the world that Colin and I were together, but one had to be paying very close attention and know that he wasn’t joking.

We ran through the last three games with no mishaps, though Colin and I were very careful not to touch; we even avoided looking at each other if we could. Tension on the stage is high, since Wayne is the only one who isn’t waiting for the ax to fall. I’m still not sure how Greg feels about the situation. Colin suddenly elbows me in the ribs and I grunt softly, looking at him in confusion.

“We’re back,” he hisses quietly, nodding to Wayne, who’s walking to the desk. Drew gestures at Colin and I and we rise, stepping onto the main floor. I mentally count down the seconds until we’re back on the air; at ‘one,’ Drew steps forward and says, “Welcome back to ‘Whose Line is it Anyway?’ Tonight’s winners are Ryan Mochrie and Colin Stiles!” Beside me, I feel Colin’s start of surprise---just as he feels mine.

“We’ll be doing a game for you called ninety-second alphabet. What’s going to happen is . . .”

As he does his little spiel, I shoot a panicked look at Colin. He catches it and we both throw our gazes to Drew, who ignores us until he’s finished explaining the game. That’s when it happens---right before he turns to Wayne to ask for the scene, he winks at both of us.

My eyes fall closed and I sag against Colin, sighing with relief. He takes my weight, shifting to accommodate it and putting his hand on my arm to keep us both balanced. His fingertips lightly caress the hairs on my arm and I have to force myself to remember that we aren’t alone. Even though it half kills me to do it, I step away from him. He looks at me with hurt in his dark eyes, but when I gestures slightly in the direction of the audience, he lowers his gaze and nods in understanding.

Drew grins merrily at us as he joins us; I offer a faint smile in reply. I know that sounds a little childish, but it’s been a long day---and it’s not over yet. I think Drew senses this, because he gets us through the scene with none of his usual antics and ends the show with Greg reading the credits.

As soon as we’re clear, he moves to my side and hisses, “Go! I’ll keep Greg here long enough for you to get out.”

Colin needs no urging and tugs lightly on my sleeve before bolting from the stage (well, not exactly ‘bolting,’ but you get the idea). I stay where I am and look deeply into Drew’s eyes, trying to determine whether or not he really means it. Since he has yet to say one way or another if he approves (or will at least keep his mouth shut, which---for Drew---amounts to pretty much the same thing), I’m hesitant to simply walk away without some kind of reassurance.

“Good luck, Ryan,” he murmurs to me. “And make sure there isn’t anybody in the rooms on either side of you,” he adds with a wicked grin.

“Oh, shut up,” I mutter, my cheeks flaming. He does have a valid point, though (what’re you looking at? It’s been a month, remember? What would you do?). I make a mental note to mention it to Colin and beat a hasty retreat.

Colin is waiting for me by my dressing room door. His face lights up with a radiant smile when he catches sight of me and he comes instantly to my arms. After a long, slow kiss, he pulls back and whispers, “Let’s go.”

“Lead on, Macduff.”

* * *

We did actually talk, albeit sometime the next afternoon. We still don’t know what we’re going to do about Pat and Deb, but we did agree to tell the cast of “Whose Line.” So, it’s out in the open---and I was right the first time. I’m glad; I know it’s not going to be easy with everyone knowing, but at least we don’t have hide in the closet in my dressing room anymore (and again, I mean that literally). So, for now, all is well. Maybe I’ll tell you what happens when we tell our wives.

But I wouldn’t hold my breath.

* * *

Finis

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