Here we go again.

He was relieved he’d managed to placate Fizz, but now they were back to square one. Looking up at

Ginger, Ryan tried to speak calmly. “I’ve sent Sammy down to the bar to help Rachel. Hopefully Pete

will be back soon, so that’s the bar covered. Matt’s in the kitchen.” He squirmed as Fizz rubbed

himself against his body. “And...er, Ash is on his way,” he added, voice cracking slightly.

“Ash?” Fizz breathed. “He’s coming?”

Ryan cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“Good,” Ginger grumbled. “He can tell us what the fuck’s going on.”

“Daniel,” Ryan said firmly. He twisted his face away from Fizz, trying to keep eye contact with

Ginger. “I spoke to Ash, and he knew nothing about the pills.”

“That’s right.” Fizz chuckled, hands ruffling through Ryan’s hair. “He didn’t know.”

“Yeah.” Ryan tried to hold Fizz’s hands still. “So don’t go biting his head off,” he said to Ginger.

“Ash hasn’t done anything.”

Ginger stood there, scowling, his hands on slim hips. “I still don’t like it.”

“Let’s try to sort it out together, okay?” Ryan pleaded. “See if you can find the pill packet. There’s

got to be some information on it.”

Ginger blinked, then glanced down at Fizz’s strewn belongings. “Right,” he said, snapping into

action. At last, Ryan thought. Maybe if they found the pills it would explain something about Fizz’s

strange behaviour. He tried to ignore the niggling worm of doubt in his mind.

* * *

Ryan supposed they were extremely lucky that when Ash arrived, Ginger was on the phone to a

medical helpline. At least Ginger’s mobile phone worked in the room. Ginger hadn’t been able to

determine anything helpful from the pill packet, or the little leaflet of manufacturer’s guidelines, so

he’d called up the information number listed. They hadn’t been much use either, and had transferred

him to a medical helpline instead.

Ryan kicked himself for not thinking of that sooner. He had called up a doctor’s helpline a few

months ago, in the middle of the night. Matt had been suffering from stomach pain, and was

convinced his appendix was about to burst, or something equally dramatic. The helpline had been very

thorough, but after all that fuss, Matt’s pain had turned out to be nothing more than trapped wind.

Ginger was on his phone, pacing the floor, in the middle of explaining Fizz’s symptoms. He

scowled at Ash as he entered the room, but Ash didn’t seem to notice. “Hey,” he said breathlessly,

staring down at them.

“Hey,” Ryan replied. “Did you run here?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Ash gasped. “Well, I started running, then realised how incredibly unfit I

am.”

“Join the club,” Ryan said.

“Um, so...?” Ash stared at Fizz.

That’s the pleasantries over with then, Ryan thought. Fizz had dozed off, now laying on Ryan’s

chest. Ryan had been fighting an onset of drowsiness himself. He felt like he didn’t ever want to get

up again. “Fizz?” he said, shifting gently. He could feel the boy breathing, and luckily the breaths

seemed fairly even. “Fizz?”

“Hmm.” Fizz stirred, clutching onto Ryan.

“Ash is here.”

Fizz’s eyes flew open, searching wildly. When they found Ash, a smile spread over the boy’s face.

“Ash.” He pushed Ryan away, quite forcefully, and held his arms out for Ash.

Ash looked confused. He glanced at Ryan, then at Ginger. Ryan also looked to Ginger, just to check

he wasn’t about to leap forward and batter Ash to a pulp. Ginger scowled in their direction, but

thankfully remained on the phone. “Yes,” he ground out. “No, we don’t think he’s taken anything

else...”

“Ash,” Fizz pleaded. “Come here.”

Ash threw off his jacket, and stepped forward. He crouched as he neared the mattress, leaning

toward Fizz. “Hey. Are you...okay?”

Ryan watched Fizz wrap arms around Ash, a smile over his face. He closed his eyes, and simply

melted into him as Ash hugged him back. “I’m better now.”

Ryan couldn’t help feel a little jealous at the sight. These two were so obviously into each other,

and the breathiness of both their voices was going straight to his cock, making him feel horny again.

Dammit.

Feeling embarrassed, Ryan edged away, trying to give them room. He looked at Ginger, still talking

on the phone. From the clipped words he was using, Ryan could tell he was getting impatient with the

other person’s apparent lack of answers.

Ryan tried to think. What else hadn’t they covered? Fizz had been fine until he’d taken his pills, so

it had to be a medical issue, surely? Was the boy was having a mental breakdown? Ryan glanced at

Fizz, wrapped around Ash. He didn’t look like he was having a breakdown. But then, Ryan wasn’t

quite sure what a breakdown was like. Fizz was a little weird, after all. Maybe this had been brewing

for a while.

Well, when all else failed... “I’m going to put the kettle on,” Ryan said decidedly. He really needed

a cup of tea. Maybe slip some whiskey in, too. Seeing as Matt had never produced that tea Ginger had

asked for, Ryan thought he’d make it himself.

He pulled himself up, perhaps a little too quickly, as he got a head rush, swaying on his feet. Ginger

stepped in, steadying him with a hand to his arm. Ginger’s hand was hot. Ryan’s arms were bare, and

the touch zinged through his body. His cock definitely noticed.

“I’m fine,” Ryan said curtly, shying away from Ginger’s touch.

Ginger looked surprised, but didn’t reply. Still on the phone, his eyes watched Ryan, yet Ryan

couldn’t take it. He walked away, desperate to escape the pigeon loft. How could the place feel stuffy

even when it was cold?

He hated that room.

Ryan hurried into the kitchen. He filled the kettle, then tried to set it back on its stand. The kettle

wouldn’t quite fit, and Ryan wrestled with it a moment before slamming it down hard. Stupid thing.

He flicked the switch on, irritation rolling through him. Breathing in deep, Ryan willed himself not to

lose it.

Get a grip, Ryan. Get a grip.

He leaned against the sink, staring out of the window at white clouds, while he waited for the kettle

to boil. Absently, his hand came up to brush the patch of skin on his arm that Ginger had touched. The

kettle rattled away, coming to boil.

“Ryan?”

At the sound of his voice, Ryan turned. Ginger stood in the doorway, watching him. He still held the

mobile near his ear. Ryan took another breath in. Oh, boy. The water inside the kettle bubbled, almost

whistling as the kettle switched itself off.

“Yeah?”

Ginger opened his mouth, but paused before he said anything. A buzzing, bodiless voice from the

phone asked him a question. “Yes, I’m still here,” Ginger said. “Can you hang on a sec?”

Ryan exhaled. Well, if Ginger wasn’t going to talk to him, he might as well get on with making the

tea. He moved away from the sink, opening the overhead cupboard, and took out four clean mugs.

“Yes, I understand...” Ginger said to the phone.

Ryan picked up the box of PG Tips, and threw a teabag into each mug. He picked up the kettle,

pouring in hot water, then found a tea spoon to poke at the bags. He watched the tea brew, staining the

water dark brown. Keep calm.

“Look, just a sec,” Ginger said, then, “Ry?”

Ryan forced his eyes to remain on the tea. “Mm?”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he answered, perhaps a little too quickly. He opened the fridge, grabbed the milk, and

unscrewed the top. He sniffed it out of habit, checking if it was all right. Having passed the test, the

milk was added to the mugs.

“Yes, I’m still here!” Ginger snapped at the phone.