Co written with mrstotten over at LJ. Title taken from Ainslie Henderson's Keep Me A Secret

It takes Randy six months to admit to himself that he has a crush on Gale but once he has, life seems to become impossible. It's hard enough falling for a straight guy, but when you then spend every day with that guy, and a huge portion of that day with no clothes on, simulating what you wish you could actually do? Well let's just say there are very few more effective methods of torture.

By the time he figures it out, he and Gale have become friends, good friends, sometimes he thinks even best friends, or he would think that if he was a thirteen year old girl. So he doesn't want to start acting weird around him. But it's hard. Pretending to be normal, not letting his feelings show. Randy copes by making sure that outside of filming, he and Gale don't touch. They talk, they laughed, they joke, but they never hug, or brush hands, or sit too close. Randy makes sure of it.

Sometimes he thinks Gale notices, sometimes he'll find Gale watching him and Peter, or Him and Scott, and if their bodies are in contact he'll see Gale's eyes linger on the spot, his gaze dark and unreadable. After each of these occasions he'll sit a little closer to Randy, their elbows will bump, or fingers brush. Randy always makes sure to reinstate the space barrier immediately. It's the only way he can cope. Randy doesn't notice the unreadable expression in Gale's eyes after that, because he's trying to hard not to look in Gale's eyes.

It takes Gale a while to figure out what's coursing through his body every time he catches Randy touching Hal, or Peter or Scott.

Jealousy.

Strong, hot and bitter in the back of his throat.

It takes him even longer to work up the courage to figure out iwhy/i he's jealous. Randy doesn't touch him. Randy never touches him, outside of filming, it's strictly hands off and when they brush elbows or thighs under the table in the bar, Randy will flinch, shift away and Gale will feel the distance like a physical ache.

"You never touch me." The words slip out, he's drunk too much, tongue loosened with alcohol and Randy flinches, body stiffening, fingers clenching by his sides. "When there're no cameras, you don't touch me. But you touch Hal. And Peter. And Scott. Never me. Why?" Randy's eyes are wide, panic lighting them from the inside and Gale thinks he looks beautiful like that, hair lit up from behind by the poor yellow lighting of the bar.

"Gale..." Randy says, eyes shifting endlessly around, searching for someone to rescue him. Gale leans forward, lurches forward, grabs Randy's hand. Randy stiffens even more and Gale unfolds his fingers, runs his own down Randy's palm. Randy pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

"See?" Says Gale. "It doesn't hurt."

"It will." Randy says and Gale can't get his head around what he's saying, what he means by that. Randy snatches his hand away and drives him home in silence, grits out a "goodnight" and speeds off before Gale has a chance to figure out what he did wrong.

After the incident at the bar things get worse. Stung by the rebuff of Randy snatching his hand away Gale is now avoiding him. Now they really never touch. Even when they're forced to play their parts, it feels different like a distance has opened up between them. The director's getting fed up with it, tells them time and time again the chemistry between Brian and Justin should be getting stronger, now withering away, dying down to nothing.

But that's not the only change, they no longer laugh now, their words, on the rare occasion that they come, are stilted and polite. They're colleagues, no longer friends.

There are times though when they're positioned a certain way for a scene, and a look crosses Gale's face, silent, unfathomable and it's in these moment that Gale moves away, continuing the dance Randy started.

Then there are still the times when he watches Randy with other people, and if they touch, a spasm crosses Gale's face, like it hurts to see. That alone is almost enough to make Randy go to him, but he sees the confusion in Gale's eyes also, and he knows that Gale is having a hard time coming to terms with why he's feeling like this, and if Randy pushes this forward it will only end in pain. For both of them.

As a result Randy rarely touches anyone now, closing himself off from everyone around him, but Peter doesn't seem to know how to take a hint. The more Randy withdraws, the more Peter pulls him back. It's on one of these occasions, the dam breaks. Excited about a date that night, Peter is all hands, grabby, cuddly, and energised. Randy can ifeel/i Gale watching them, his eyes burning a hole right through them, and then Peter pulls Randy in for a kiss.

It is different from their usual perfunctory kiss on the lips, for the one thing there's tongue, and that alone is enough to shock Randy immobile.

He is still in shock several seconds later when Peter leaves him with a whispered "time to stop playing games sweetie" and is gone, leaving Randy with a tall imposing, furious Gale Harold, who looks like he wants nothing more right now than to kill him.

Before he can figure out how Gale managed to be standing in front of him without Randy noticing he'd moved, or even begin to fathom what just happened with Peter, Randy's stopped by Gale's words.

"Enough is enough Rand, we need to talk."

Neither of them speak as Gale bundles them both into his car, slamming Randy's door hard enough that the whole car shakes. Anger radiates off him as he slips into the driver's seat. Randy notices the way Gale's knuckles go white as he clenches the steering wheel and his jaw muscles twitch.

The tension is almost palpable, Randy can practically taste it as Gale pulls his car into his parking space at his apartment, slamming his door again as he gets out. His arms are folded over his chest when Randy gets out, shutting the door quietly, it still echoes in the parking garage.

"What the hell is going on?" Gale asks, quietly controlled anger colouring his words.

"What?"

"With Peter. What was that?" Randy shakes his head, trying to clear the confusion, clenches his hand tight against the memory of Gale's fingers running over his palm. He's been feeling the memory of it for weeks, Gale's touch ghosting over his skin.

"What?"

"Rand..." There's a warning tone in Gale's voice that Randy has never heard before, low and dark and dangerous and he can't help the shiver it sends skittering down his spine.

"I don't know." He says, pressing his fingers into the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He opens them to Gale, standing close seemingly without moving again.

"You don't touch anyone anymore Rand." Gale says, almost a question, a hint of demand and a tiny bit of observation. His voice is slightly softer, still with an edge of danger though and Randy takes a step backwards, his back hitting the car as Gale advances.

"I..."

"Touch me Randy." It's practically an order, a plea with an undertone of demand and Randy snaps his eyes to Gale's, an unreadable expression in them as Gale stares down at him. "Me, Rand, touch me."

Randy takes a shuddering breath and reaches out a trembling hand to Gale, presses his fingers tentatively to Gale's shirt. Gale only moves when Randy presses his palm flat against his chest, Gale's hand covering Randy's, taking a step forward till Randy can feel the heat coming from Gale's body.

"It wont hurt Randy, I promise, it will never hurt." Randy swallows the lump in his throat as Gale comes ever closer.

"You can't promise that."

Randy feels the hope rise in him, it would be so easy to fall, to just give in to these feelings and see where they take them. But he knows it won't be that easy.

Gale isn't out, hell Gale isn't even gay as far as Randy knew, every time they had ever had a discussion about anything like that, Gale's conversations, his conquests, had been full of women with soft curves and small bodies. He isn't gay and if he is, he isn't out.

Randy doesn't know much but he is sure of two things, one he won't survive being Gale's experiment, and two, he won't hide this. He is proud of who he is, sees no reason to hide it, or what he feels, not even for Gale.

The pounding of Gale's heart underneath his hands is pulling Randy under, it feels real, vibrant, like a promise to believe, that if Randy could just put his faith in this, in iGale/i then this could go somewhere, could mean something.

But first he has to know, has to find out what this actually is.

"What is you want Gale?" Randy asks, his voice cracking as if it had been unused. "What exactly are you asking for here?"

"I don't know." Randy tugs on his hand but Gale holds tight. "It terrifies me Rand, the way I feel about you, what I feel for you. But not as much as it terrifies me to think I may never have this, whatever this is, whatever this could be...that I may never have you."

They're both silent for what feels like years, words stuck in Randy's throat, body screaming, mind screaming back, Gale's palm warm and dry against his hand. He looks up at Gale, opens his mouth without having any idea what the hell he's going to say.

"I'm asking for a chance Randy. That's all." Gale says, no hesitation in his voice , surety and pleading and his thumb rubs over the back of Randy's hand. Gale closes the space between them, pressing his lips almost tentatively to his. The anger from only a few moments earlier dissipating as Randy forgets himself and kisses back, pressing his body upwards, their hands still on Gale's chest.

"Don't tell me you don't feel anything Randy." Gale says when he pulls away, presses his forehead to Randy's.

Randy takes in a shuddering breath. With his head pressed so close to Gale it feels almost as if he is surrounded. All he can feel, hear, smell is Gale , their lips are close enough that he can feel Gale's breath all it would take is one small movement and he would be able to taste him as well. One small movement and a shitload of courage.

In the end it's Gale who is brave enough for the both of them, taking the next natural step and moving forward until their lips meet again. After that every argument Randy has is gone. As his lips open up under Gale's, there is no more resistance, after months of fighting he couldn't stop this now, even if he wanted to.

"I want this Randy, I want to see where this goes." Gale says, presses himself closer to Randy, his thigh slipping between Randy's.

"It won't be easy." Randy manages to say as Gale presses closer, brings his knee up against Randy's crotch.

"I'm not saying it's going to be perfect Randy, I know that. I'm not promising rainbows and butterflies."

"Then what are you promising?" Randy asks, his fingers clutching at Gale's shirt, dread sits heavily in his stomach when Gale hesitates for a second, the silence heavy between them.

"Me. I think we could be it Rand. I'm willing to try. The question is, are you?"

Randy shifts his body closer to Gale's. His brain was cataloguing all the ways in which this was a huge mistake. They are best friends, it could ruin that, it could jeopardise their working relationship, it could upset the communications with their co workers and most important of all, if this went wrong, Gale could break his heart.

Randy is past putting this down to a crush, he has fallen for Gale, hook line and sinker, and if this goes wrong, it would wreck him. But as insistent as his brain is, his body, his heart is screaming just as loudly, maybe even louder. Screaming to be closer to Gale, to give this, this thing whatever it was a chance, to give them a chance, because he knows Gale is right. This could all go horribly wrong, but if it doesn't, this has the potential to be it for them. That once in a lifetime chance.

Opening his legs wider, accepting Gale's body closer, he makes his choice. Moving forward their lips meet again and this time the kiss feels different, feels fresh, new. Lacking the desperation and pleading of the last one, this kiss speaks of new beginnings, the promise of something...amazing.

Breaking off the kiss, Randy smiles at the wide grin on Gale's face, it doesn't seem to matter that he hasn't given his answer yet, Gale just seems to know. Not wanting to leave anything to chance however Randy whispers the words against Gale's smiling mouth.

"Ok, lets give it a shot." He almost adds in 'what have we got to lose' but it feels wrong, too flippant and they both know, both seem to accept, that whatever this thing is, it's serious.

His mind goes blank as Gale starts nibbling, soft sharp bites at the side of his neck, each one bound to, hell meant to leave a mark.

"Just one thing Randy," Gale continues, his hands soft and searching over Randy's body.

"Mhhmmm," Randy murmurs.

"You're going to have to talk to Peter, cos if he kisses you like that again, I may have to kill him."