Chapter Four

All Skid's life he'd been enthralled shiny things. Coins, mirrors, bottle caps, even the chrome on cars. You name it, he had been distracted by it. But the shiny object that had always fascinated him the most was Cya's nipple ring. Skids had wanted to touch that tiny circle of silver ever since his friend had first acquired it, but he'd never had the courage to ask. Somehow, even as close as they were, it felt like he'd be crossing a line. It would be too......too....*intimate*. Yes. Intimate. That was the word.

So he'd contented himself with stealing quick glances at the ring when it wasn't covered by a shirt, which was fairly often, and he'd fantasized about touching it until the tips of his fingers itched. But he hadn't given in to that particular urge. Or the one to trace that dragon tattoo with his tongue. Or the one to stare shamelessly at Cy's chest until.....until......well, actually he had no idea what would happen. He'd never allowed himself the pleasure before, because if Cy caught him staring and got mad or freaked out or disgusted, he didn't think he could stand it.

But now things were different. Now he was going to take chances and live on the edge. Or, well, fairly close to the edge, at least, Skids amended. Not that he wasn't still afraid of rejection. He was. He was terrified. But he was more afraid of going his entire life without knowing how Cya felt, of letting the man who could be the love of his life slip right through his fingers and not doing a damn thing to stop it.

So the next time he caught a glimpse of the Cy shirtless, he gave in to his baser urges and didn't bother to drag his eyes away after the acceptable two seconds, and he'd come to three basic realizations. Those being a.) SleepySexyCy is not a sight for the weak at heart, b.) Or the weak at bladder. Skids had caught himself biting back giggles at Attack of the Hospital Blanket of Doom, as he'd decided to call it, and c.) Living fairly close to the edge can produce interesting results. Interesting in the sense of unbelievably hot and sensual.

Skids sneaked a glance over the top of his coloring book at the boy perched on the Foldout from Hell, staring with intense concentration at the paper in his hand, and he grinned to himself. Cy'd put on a shirt. That could only mean one thing: He'd been just as affected as Skids had by their little moment! Or.....the grin wilted a little......Well, or maybe he was uncomfortable with Skids' fixation on his nip ring and wanted to remove the temptation, so to speak. Or maybe he was so utterly oblivious to the possibility of them as anything more than friends that he hadn't considered at all, and had simply wanted to put on a shirt.

Damn. Maybe he should stop thinking about it so much.

But then that was the thing about Cyanide, wasn't it? It was impossible to stop thinking about him.

Gnawing at his bottom lip pensively, Skids let his eyes drift back down to his coloring book. He noticed a patch of sky that wasn't blue enough, and bent to fix the omission.

Okay. Assume that Cy liked him too, but didn't want to say anything because he wasn't sure of Skids' feelings. Well, that......Skids felt a smile tug at his mouth.......that would be really shibby, first off, but how could he find out for sure?

Option one: he could ask point-blank. Skids squinted at the sky critically and replaced the blue crayon in the box as he considered this. Right now, right this very second, he could open his mouth and ask Cyanide how he felt. But if it Cy went all reticent? Or got too embarrassed? Or simply didn't want him? Skids winced at the thought. It would hurt too much to hear those words spoken aloud. There had to be a less potentially painful way.

So, option two: he could develop a devious and cunning plan to weasel the truth of his best friend without making it obvious what he was doing, possibly playing on his injuries for sympathy.

Hmph. Only one problem with that little scenario, Skids reflected ruefully. He didn't do devious and cunning. Was fairly sure he *couldn't* do devious and cunning, even if he tried.

Discouraged that the two possible ideas he'd had wouldn't work and bemoaning the fact that he'd have to come up with something else, thus wasting valuable seduction time, Skids slumped a little in the hospital bed and sighed loudly.

"Skids?"

Cy's voice. Skids jerked upright, startled out of his thoughts, and turned his attention to his best friend, who was eyeing him with mild concern. "Yeah, Cy?"

"Are you feeling okay, dude? I mean, you've gotten really quiet on me."

Skids made a note not to sink too deeply into his planning again. "I'm fine. Just a little tired of this place, I guess." He shrugged. "It gets boring, having to stay in the same spot for days on end. But hey, I'll be out of here soon, right? Plus, I get all the free Jello I want." Skids grinned.

Cyan studied him for a moment silently, making Skids wonder if he were psychic and fully aware of what was really preoccupying his friend's mind. When he spoke, it was in a softer and more subdued tone than Skids had ever heard from him. "You don't have to do that, you know."

"Do....do.....what?" Skids asked, puzzled.

"You don't have to pretend to be happy when you're not. You can be irritable and cranky and restless. I'll still be your friend." Cy had that intense look on his face again, only this time it was overshadowed by something softer, like he was trying to crack open a particularly important egg without shattering the shell into a million pieces. "That's part of what being friends is about, Skids. When we're sad or angry or just plain fed up, we don't hide it from each other. We take the bad with the good."

"But Cy.....I know I don't have to pretend anything around you. And I don't, really. I just *am* happy. You make me that way." And maybe that sounded stupid and corny, but it was the truth, and Skids was glad he had said it. Not the least because Cy was now practically beaming at him.

It was right on the tip of his tongue then, to say it, to tell Cy everything, but, fortunately or unfortunately, there was a soft knock at the door, and Harley came tiptoeing in, clutching a vase of tulips.

"Hi guys," he mumbled, peering around anxiously, as if he expected a corpse to jump out at him any moment.

"Hi, Harley," Skids returned, giggling at his friend's apprehensive behavior. "You know, this is a hospital room, not a funeral home. You don't have to whisper."

"Oh, I know," Harley said sheepishly, his voice rising to the level of stage whisper. "I'm just.....still leery of this place, I guess."

"It's not so bad, once you get used to it," Skids assured him. "Especially since Cy brought me my coloring book." He nodded at the crayons scattered over the sheets.

Immediately, Skids sensed tension in the air, though he wasn't sure where it had come from. Harley turned towards the foldout slowly, almost reluctantly, and grinned in a decidedly strained fashion. Cy didn't bother to return the smile. Instead, his face rigid, he nodded stiffly, then announced, "I'm going to get some coffee from the cafeteria. Does anyone want anything?"

"No thanks, breakfast should be by soon," Skids demurred absently, looking back and forth between his two friends. What was going on here? What was with the angry vibe he was getting?

As soon as Cy was out the door, Harley let his shoulders sag and set the vase of tulips down with a sigh. Skids watched reflectively. Something was definitely up, and he intended to find out what.

"Thanks for the flowers," he said cautiously.

Harley waved a hand dismissively, still looking dejected. "You're welcome. They're less of a get-well-soon and more of a sorry-I-didn't-visit-

when-I-said-I-would, though."

"Wha--oh, you mean yesterday?" Skids asked, vaguely recalling that Harley had mentioned coming to the hospital with Cy in one of their phone conversations. "Don't worry about it, Harls. To tell the truth, I'd completely forgotten."

Harley perked up a bit. "I was going to come, I really was, and then, out of the blue, Mik surprised me with this awesome picnic, and I couldn't tell him no. He'd worked so hard on it and bought candles and all sorts of romantic food."

Skids tried to supress the slight twinge of jealousy he felt; not because Mikhael and Harley were together, but because they were so obviously in love. "Sounds great, dude. I don't blame you for not coming. Who'd want to spend time here when you could be doing something like that? And it's not as if I'm in danger of dying or anything."

"See, that's what I told Cy," Harley began excitedly, pleased at having found an ally. "But he was all pissed and--"

"What? Is *that* what's going on with you two?" Skids broke in incredulously. "Cy's mad at you cause you couldn't visit?"

"Yeah. Insane, isn't it?"

"Well......yes, but also sweet."

"Speak for yourself," Harley grimaced. "I was hoping he'd be over it by now, but I guess not. I wonder how long he's going to stay mad at me." He looked depressed again for a minute, but quickly shook it off. "Oh well. I just hope this mood he's in hasn't been making you feel even worse."

"No, actually he's been......really great," Skids answered honestly, glancing over at the rumpled sheets on the Foldout from Hell. "He's slept on that contraption almost every night, if you can believe it, and I've rarely had to resort to hospital food. Every time I get down about having to be here, he cheers me up and keeps me entertained. I really don't know what I would do without him. He's so shibby."

By the time he finished, Harley was staring at him with what could only be called speculation and, too late, Skids realized that he'd probably gotten tellingly glazed-eyed and sappy-smiled. He quickly looked down, watching his fingers twist themselves into his blanket nervously as he waited for his friend to call him on it.

Sure enough, after a few agonizing seconds of silence, Harley said softly, "Skids, is there something going on between you and Cyan?"

Without looking up, Skids shook his head vigorously.

The next question was even softer, so quiet that it could barely be heard over the hum of hospital machinery. "Do you want there to be something going on?"

Skids started to shake his head again instinctively, then stopped and slowly nodded.

"I see." There was a long pause, during which Skids wished he could spontaneously combust. Then, "Well, why the hell haven't you done something about it?"

Skid's head snapped up so quickly he felt his neck pop, and he stared at Harley, who was grinning wickedly, in sheer amazement. "But...I-I mean, you......you think I should do something?"

"Well of course!" Harley exclaimed. "You have to let him know how you feel, dude!"

"That's not what I meant. *I* know I have to tell him. I'm just surprised that you agree."

Harley shrugged, looking, for a moment, a bit mysterious. But the expression was gone almost as quickly as it had come, and he was asking mischievously, "So, have you decided how you're going to drop the bomb?"

"Not exactly. I thought about being blunt and just laying out the facts. But I decided that was way too potentially painful. For both of us."

Harley nodded in agreement. "I'd say you're probably right. Any other ideas?"

"Well....." Skids hesitated, then confessed, "I also thought of weaseling out how Cy feels through a devious and cunning process, perhaps milking my injuries a little, but I'm not too good at that stuff."

"That's why you got me," Harley declared firmly. "I think you've got the makings of a great weaseler in you. You just need a little push in the right direction. Now, let's think. How can we combine your strengths into a really kick-ass plan?"

Skids frowned thoughtfully. "That depends on what my 'strengths' are. Care to enlighten me?"

"Obviously, your injuries," Harley said, ticking them off on his fingers. "I'm sure we can use those somehow. Then there's your unassuming charm."

Skids snorted. "'Unassuming charm?'"

"Hey, I'm serious. You're the type who can make people fall in love with you without even trying."

"Well, it hasn't happened yet," Skids muttered, still looking slightly amused.

Harley quirked an eyebrow. "Don't be too sure. Now, where was I? Oh yes, your injuries, your unassuming charm, your looks...."

"My 'looks'? Okay, now that's really stretching it, Harls."

Harley looked indignant on Skids' behalf. "What, do you think you're ugly or something?"

"Well, no," Skids admitted. "I guess I don't. I just think I'm.....average."

It was Harley's turn to snort. "Average, my ass. You're gorgeous. And we can definitely use that to our advantage......."

By the time Cy came back with his coffee, the two had developed what Harley termed a "masterful" plan. Skids termed it "crazy." But he was willing to go along with it, because Harley had sworn up and down it was foolproof, and after all, what did Skids know about seducing people? He just hoped to hell it would work.

Much later, after Harley had gone home, Skids reflected on the day and prepared to put his plan into action. Luckily, Cy had softened towards Harley when he saw that Skids truly wasn't angry about the missed visit, and they'd been able to have a good time. Skids had made the most of it, because it might be the last time they all hung out together. After all, who knew how Cy would react to the "foolproof" plan? He might try to let Skids down easy and say that if either of them suddenly swapped genders, maybe they could work something out. Or, well. He might not want to be friends any more.

Trying to swallow the pain that thought brought with it, Skids glanced at the clock. Hmmm. Five eleven. If he was going to make a move, five eleven seemed as good a time as any to do it. Besides, if he didn't hurry and go through with the plan, he was afraid he'd chicken out.

So he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and plunged in to his opening line headfirst: "Cycouldyagimmieahand?"

Cyanide, who had been staring out the window at the city lights, turned quickly, eyebrows raised. "Huh? Sorry, man, I didn't catch that. Guess I'm a little distracted."

'Yes, maybe, or maybe I've suddenly turned into the world's biggest spaz,' Skids thought despairingly. But he valiantly took a deep breath, made himself look right into that attentive, sexy face, and said slowly, "I asked if you could give me a hand with something."

"If it's humanly possible, I'm on it," Cy vowed. "And even if it's not, I'll make an effort. What do you need?"

'You.' Skids ached to say it, but refrained, remembering The Plan. Instead, he sat up and carefully pushed his legs over the side of the bed. "Um, I have to go to the bathroom, and well, I hate to ask you this, but there's always been a nurse around before, and my leg is really throbbing, plus I don't know how steady I'll be after lying in this bed for so long and--"

"Skids," Cya broke in gently. "Are you saying you need some help to get to the bathroom?"

A blush rose in his cheeks faster than he had believed possible, but he forced himself to nod. "I--If you can just help me to the door, I think I'll be fine."

"No problem." Cy rose from the foldout and made his way over to the bed. Standing in front of Skids, he hesitated for a moment, then placed his hands at either side of the other boy's waist. "When you're ready, slide forward a little to get your feet under you, and then I'll lift up."

'When you're ready.' Skids almost laughed, knowing that he would never be ready for what he was about to do. But he was forging on. He'd gotten this far. If he could just keep up his courage.......He slid forward until his toes hit the floor and began to push himself up. He could feel Cy's hands guiding him, supporting him, and he was frankly surprised at how much he really seemed to need them. He wouldn't have believed his legs would be so weak and rubbery, but they felt likely to collapse at any moment and his bruise really was throbbing. Oh well. He supposed it would make The Plan that much easier.

When he was standing, Cy moved to one side, gripping his right arm, and they began to shuffle slowly towards the bathroom. Skids could feel his mouth going dry and palms getting sweaty in anticipation of what he was about to do, but he purposefully ignored them. Just a few more steps.....past the bed and chair, so there would be nothing else to grab for.....a little further......damn, this was insane......no time for that now, though.........a little further....and......now!

Skids let himself stumble, let the jelly feeling in his knees and the dizziness in his head take over. Off-balance, he reached desperately for the only solid object within his grasp that would keep him from falling: Cyanide. Immediately (and according to plan, he might add), Cy's arms closed around him protectively, steadying him and pulling him close. Very close.

And suddenly, The Plan didn't seem complicated in the least. On the contrary, it was the most natural thing in the world to plaster his body against his best friend's and refuse to budge, to wind his arms around Cya's neck and bury his face his Cya's throat.

For a few heartbeats, there was silence. Skids was too busy enjoying this new position he'd found himself in, and Cy, he decided, was too busy trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Just so there could be no mistaking his intentions, Skids pressed himself even closer and, impulsively, wiggled his hips suggestively against Cy's. And promptly blushed, knowing the hospital gown concealed approximately zilch.

"Skids," Cyan finally croaked, and Skids was pleased to note that his voice was uncharacteristically hoarse. "Skids, what, exactly, are you doing?"

The Plan, at this point, called for him to giggle and say something along the lines of, "Why, seducing you, of course." Then, Harley had claimed, Cy would be driven mad with lust for him and Skids would have to beat him off with a stick to get rid of him. Despite all Harls's assurances, however, this was the part of The Plan that Skids was the least sure of. Giggling? At a time like this? It felt too much like treating the whole thing as a joke, and Skids was more serious than he'd ever been in his life.

Uncertain, he tipped his head back to look into Cy's face, and his stomach turned over at his friend's expression. It was part anger, part confusion, part fear, but mostly pain. Deep, gut-wrenching pain that hit Skids like a bucket of cold water in the face, and suddenly, his mind was made up. To hell with The Plan. He was going with his instincts, and his instincts told him there was no way he could make a game out of this while Cy looked like that.

So he didn't even try. Instead, he did what felt natural, what felt right: he leaned close enough to Cy that he could see the golden flecks in the dark eyes, could count them individually, and he breathed, "I really like your nip ring, Cya."

Cy swallowed. Hard. Skids followed the slight bobbing motion with his eyes, mildly fascinated, then let them flick back up when Cyanide spoke, his voice trembling almost as badly as Skids' hands were. "Don't play with me like this, Skids."

Play? Skids stared incredulously. *Play?* He was *playing*? What the hell? Did Cy think he went around falling all over random men and breathing in their faces and complimenting them on their various piercings?

"You do it all the time," Cy insisted, seeing the disbelief on Skid's face. You'll say something or look at me a certain way or touch me, and I know you don't mean anything by it. I know that. But you have no idea what you're doing to me, and--and I can't take it anymore. Please stop teasing me, Ski--"

Skids interrupted the flow of words by brushing their lips together tentatively, adding an inquiring little lick at the corner of Cy's mouth. "*Not*.....playing," he mumbled, refusing to back up an inch, though the close proximity was screwing his coherency. "'M totally serious. Wouldn't tease you, Cy......love you." And wasn't that amazing? The words he thought he'd never be able to say, the ones he'd dreaded saying, had just popped out of his mouth without a thought.

There was a brief silence, then Cy drew in a long, shuddering breath. "You.....you.....you......*what*?" He sounded shocked.

Skids reluctantly pulled back an inch or two so that he could speak properly; he didn't want what he was about to say to be misunderstood. "I love you," he repeated clearly. "I think I have for a long time, and I just didn't realize it. But I know what I want now. The only thing is....." Skids hesitated, then forged ahead. "I'm not sure how you feel. The fact that you aren't punching me right now is encouraging, but I--"

Abruptly, Cy wrenched himself away, eyes wide and frantic, and Skids stopped speaking, feeling his heart twist. His arms fell limply to his sides; the hope that had been blossoming inside him died a quick, painful death. For a moment there, he'd thought.....well, never mind what he'd thought. It didn't matter, did it? Cy didn't want him. He could feel his knees trembling, knew that he was going to fall if he didn't sit down soon, but he couldn't bring himself to care. What did it matter if he fell? So what if he hurt himself more? He wanted to hurt himself. He wanted to die.

Or at least, he did until Cy grabbed the bottom of his black T-shirt, yanked it over his head, and came stalking back across the tiled floor with a look on his face that could only be described as predatory.

"I, um," Skids squeaked uncertainly, and then Cy was kissing him like it was the only chance he'd ever get. Somewhere, in some vague plane of his mind, he was aware that his injured shoulder was being squeezed so hard that it hurt, but that wasn't important. He really couldn't care less, not as long as Cy kept stroking the roof of Skid's mouth with his tongue and tasting like sweet butterscotch candy and....God, just being Cy.

However, Cy himself did seem to care, because he pulled back suddenly, exclaiming, "Shit, I'm sorry, Skids. I forgot about your shoulder. Did I hurt you?"

"Not nearly as badly as I'm going to hurt you if you don't kiss me again," Skids replied, trying to sound threatening but ending up with mostly just breathless.

Cy smirked at him and leaned closer to do as ordered, this time being careful not to grip Skid's shoulder. Just before their lips met he whispered, "And oh yeah, I love you too."

Skids could feel himself grinning against Cy's mouth, and when Cy grabbed his hand an instant later and placed it flat on his chest, the smile only got wider. He really did like that nipple ring.

Cy was enjoying what was possibly the best kiss of his life, topped perhaps only by the one before it, when he heard the door open. His immediate reaction was to spring away from Skids and play innocent, but in the next second, he discarded that idea as pointless. Whoever was standing in the doorway had already seen them, and besides, walking away from a ready and willing Skids took more willpower than he'd ever have.

He could not, however, stop his eyes from flying open instinctively, and what he saw made him stiffen in fear. The formidable nurse that had approached him in the hall yesterday stood in the doorway, watching them with an inscrutable look on her face. Cy half-expected her to come charging across the room and body slam him, but she did no such thing. Instead, she....Cy blinked in sheer amazement.....she actually *smiled*, turned away, and closed the door behind her on her way out.

Well damn. Cy closed his eyes again and got back down to business, reflecting that when someone like that finds something to smile about, you know it's got to be good.