Current mood:	awake
Current music:	Whose Line episode

Secret Summer fic for theinnuendo :) :)
Title: I Heard a Bird Sing
Pairing(s): Colin/Wayne
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Don't own Whose Line. Not making money from this.
A/N: Written for theinnuendo for Indy’s Secret Summer Challenge. The title is taken from a poem by Oliver Herford.


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“You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

Wayne sighed and decided to keep quiet. If Colin didn’t get it, he didn’t get it, and pressing the matter could only make things worse.

“Forget it.”

The fire happily crackled, warming their faces with a cherry glow. Wayne was sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor with his head leaning back against the couch that Colin was sprawled across; they both had a glass of wine in their hands. They’d spent the day at the lake, taking advantage of the fact that it was frozen solid and gone ice-skating. Perhaps, in hindsight, they’d stayed out a little too long; it had taken almost an hour for their fingers to thaw until they would bend properly, and they both had the sniffles. But it had been worth it.

Gloved hand in gloved hand, they had started their day by trekking the mile or so down the snowy path to the lake. Once there, they had skated for hours on end, Wayne showing off his flashy moves whilst Colin spent most of the time just trying not to fall over. When their limbs were too sore to stand another strike on the ice, they had wandered into the adjoining forest where Wayne, once safely out of view of the kids at the lake, had grabbed Colin’s scarf with both hands, pushed him up against a tree and kissed him for God only knows how long; it was getting dark by the time they withdrew. Then, gloved hand in gloved hand, they had trekked the mile or so back.

Now they were at Colin’s house. They had changed into warm and crisp jeans and t-shirts; their snow-drenched jackets, trousers and shoes were drying out by the fire; the winter chill had been chased away by mugs of sweet hot chocolate. And there they had remained, each reveling in the other’s company.

“Get what?” Colin repeated.

“Nothing,” Wayne insisted, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Wayne, you brought it up for a reason,” said Colin as he shifted his position on the couch and discarded his glass of wine in favour of gently stroking Wayne’s hair, “Whatever it is. You can talk to me.”

Wayne downed the rest of his wine and turned slightly to face the other man, “You don’t get what this means.”

Colin stared blankly for a moment, “What what means?”

Wayne brought his knee up to his chest, rested his elbow against it and leaned his head into his hand, “This! Us. Our relationship…you have no idea what it means to me, do you?”

Colin’s hand froze where it was on Wayne’s head. Their dark eyes, made darker by the dusky room, met, and Wayne saw the reflection of fire dance in the depths of Colin’s pupils. He glanced down to Colin’s lips, rosy-pink and inviting; his tongue quivered in his mouth, begging for a taste. He blinked the thoughts away and settled his gaze at a spot just below Colin’s neck.

Time was passing almost painfully slowly. Wayne wondered if it was as agonizingly intense for Colin as it was for him. The crackling fire faded into white noise and eventually nothing. He felt slightly nauseous. He shouldn’t have said anything. He and Colin had been going strong for a while with no talk of seriousness, or even exclusivity (although Wayne hadn’t even considered anyone else since his first kiss with Colin, and he rather suspected the man in front of him was the same). The notion of bringing it up had just popped into his head and stuck there, like a bad song.

Finally, and with excruciating slowness, Colin slid his hand to the nape of Wayne’s neck and pulled him closer to press a firm kiss into his temple. He lowered his head a little so his nose nestled just above Wayne’s ear and whispered, “I know.”

Wayne inclined his head into Colin’s shoulder and whispered back, “You know that you have no idea? Or…you know what it means to me?”

Colin’s breathing had become harder and faster, and he emitted the occasional strained and slightly shaky moan, like he was about to cry. His voice sounded every bit as strained as shaky as he pressed his lips up against Wayne’s ear and breathed, “I love you.”

Wayne squinted his eyes shut, letting the tears silently fall down his cheek and pool on Colin’s shoulder. Happiness overwhelmed him as he planted eager, wet kisses anywhere his lips could reach; up Colin’s neck, along his jaw line, across his cheek, nose, and forehead, eventually stopping at his mouth. He tasted the salt from their combined tears as he licked gently across Colin’s lips and, when they parted, his tongue.

His vehemently ardent kisses subsided into slower, deeper ones; he allowed his tongue to roam Colin’s mouth, touching and tasting, while his hands delicately cupped Colin’s face, wiping away the tears as they fell. Colin slid his legs off the couch and fell to the floor beside Wayne. They tangled themselves up in each other, stroking, caressing, kissing until their lips were too chapped and red to kiss any more. Wayne pulled away first and looked intensely into Colin’s tear-rimmed eyes.

“By the way,” he said with a contented smile, “I love you, too.”

.x.Sess.x.