And now for something completely different...

Title – A Secret’s Not the Same as a Lie
Author – alligator138
Fandom / Pairing – CSI:Miami – Ryan/Eric
Summary – Flying home from his first meeting with Ryan’s parents, Eric reflects on something Ryan doesn’t know about...
Prompt – From csi50 – Table 1 - #15 - lie
Rating – PG
Disclaimer – They do not belong to me. I’m just filling in the gaps for fun.


A Secret’s Not the Same as a Lie

It wasn’t until they were back on the plane and taxiing down the runway that Eric finally felt Ryan relax. A long sigh escaped him.

“That... wasn’t so bad,” he admitted. “I think they liked you.”

Eric grinned. “They loved me! I don’t know what you were so worried about.”

Ryan shot him a half-hearted glare. “Yeah, I might have known you could charm the birds off the trees, let alone my mom. At least she didn’t get all the photograph albums out as soon as you got through the door.” He grunted softly as he made himself more comfortable in his seat. “Looks like my threats are having some effect at last.”

“Guess so,” murmured Eric. “I would’ve liked to’ve seen your baby photos, though...” He did his best to make it sound like he was grumbling.

Ryan shifted again and reclined the back of his seat a little, in preparation for the deep sleep he always fell into when flying. “Over my dead body, querido.” A quick squeeze of Eric’s hand and his eyelids closed.

Eric watched him carefully. It had actually been over Ryan’s sleeping body that the photos had come out, he mused. Unlike Ryan, who could sleep anywhere, anytime, Eric always slept badly in an unfamiliar bed, and he’d dressed quietly and crept down to the kitchen as soon as dawn coloured the curtains on that first morning.

Mrs Wolfe was already there, bustling about, making coffee and jotting times on a to-do list that looked suspiciously like the ones Ryan made. She welcomed Eric with an enormous grin, a hot mug of coffee and a pile of thickly marmaladed toast. By the time Eric had reached the last slice of toast, the photo albums were out.

Eric didn’t like lying to Ryan. It reminded him too much of their early days together, when Ryan thought they were already exclusive and Eric hadn’t yet been ready for the full commitment. However, when stumbling footsteps sounded on the stairs, he was quick to help Ryan’s mother sweep the albums into a large drawer in the kitchen table, acknowledging her conspiratorial wink with a guilty grin. He’d said nothing to Ryan, gathering him in for a hug as his mother poured out the coffee that would render him human again.

Now, as his lover snored gently beside him, Eric let his mind drift back to the images Ryan’s mother had shown him – pictures of Ryan as a newborn, already sporting a shock of dark hair; Ryan at a few months old, naked on a sheepskin rug, grinning gummily at the person behind the camera; Ryan’s first steps, arms spread for balance, a look of intense concentration on his face; Ryan at Christmas with his brothers, dwarfed by the older boys, hand reaching out insistently for the camera. Family photos, school photos, formal portraits, casual snaps, a first bike, a medal for running, holidays, festivals... The albums spoke loudly of a son much loved.

It was strange, Eric thought, that people shied away from images of themselves, concealing them as if they were something to be ashamed of, when the opposite ought to be the truth. Looking at Ryan now, his lips parted, his face relaxed in sleep, Eric could see the little boy he’d once been before adult life had taken its inevitable toll. Maybe he ought to allow his own mother to show Ryan his baby pictures, like she wanted to. Maybe Ryan would look at them and see an adorable child, rather than the embarrassing little jerk Eric always thought he’d been. Maybe then, Eric would be able to confess that he’d already seen Ryan as a two-year-old in the bath.

For now, however, that would have to remain a secret. A secret wasn’t the same as a lie, was it? He was done with lying to his lover. The biggest secret of all, of course, was the photo now in his wallet – the one Ryan’s mother had slipped him as they were leaving. That had to be a vote of confidence in his suitability as a partner for her son, but he wasn’t sure that he ever wanted to tell Ryan about it. He’d go nuts when he saw which picture it was.

Deep inside Eric’s wallet nestled Ryan’s first school photograph. He was just five years old, and it was the picture taken for the school records. He was standing against a wall, eyeing the camera with intense suspicion. Eric could imagine the scene. There would have been a teacher behind the camera, probably a large motherly woman, who had exhorted her little charge to smile. “Smile, Ryan. Let’s see those lovely teeth now!” An obedient Ryan had drawn his lips back, bared his teeth for the camera, never relinquishing the distrustful look in his eyes, and displayed the empty space where he’d lost a tooth the day before.

Adorable, thought Eric. Awkward as hell, even then. Wearing his thoughts on his face, even at five years old. Totally adorable!

He patted the pocket of his jeans where he kept his wallet and smiled to himself. His little secret.

Right, he told himself, time to settle down and try to catch a nap before they landed. Eric didn’t hold out a lot of hope. He could never sleep as easily as Ryan did.

Like a baby.

~*~FIN~*~



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