Chapter Text
Okay. Sometimes, when you’re really weak, your mind can convince you of some absurd things. Last night, Tom was weak.
He had fallen into a ruthless cycle after his call with Ryland. Every time he would try to fall asleep, he would hear that laughter, with just a little bit of rasp tinting it perfectly. Or he would see the sparkle in a pair of blue eyes that intentionally dodged his. Or he would think too hard about the moment he might finally convince Ryland to fall into bed with him. How soft, supple skin might mold under his fingertips. How the darkness might try to mask the most adorable expressions as he guided every move to make them feel incredible. How he might make that voice melt, forming his name in such a naughty manner, he would never be able to hear it from Ryland the same again.
Needless to say, he’d ruined a perfectly good bedspread and pair of boxers, and he learned rather quickly that sleep was not an option anymore. He felt ridiculous for getting so caught up in one guy. It was just because of the chase, Tom told himself. He already knew he liked the chase when his partners played hard to get in the past, but Ryland was putting it to a new level that none of the others had achieved yet — and how could they? It was Tom Ryder they were trying to resist. Even Ryland was starting to fall for him, he could tell with the awkward way he flirted. The compliment to his smile. The sticky note. Keeping up with his jokes. Hell, he was even worried about whether Tom actually had a girlfriend! There’s no way this nerd wasn’t interested in him.
Fuck, this whole thing was stressing him out to think about. He didn’t even get a fix last night. By the time he got off the phone with Ryland, he had to try to be “responsible” and “sleep for work”. Yeah. Fat load of good that was. He didn’t generally like to get high before work, as it made it harder to keep up with the pace of his job, but a little weed never got anybody fired. Well, it did, but Tom Ryder isn’t just “anybody”, so he’ll be fine.
Tom Ryder has one hell of a day ahead of him.
“Colt, you are stressing me out!”
Sometimes, when you trust someone a little too much, you might forget the stupid things they do to make you regret it. Ryland somehow forgot over the course of his two-day visit that his brother was one of the most reckless drivers he knew. Worse yet, Colt knew, and he thought it was hilarious that Ryland was holding onto the handlebar on the roof of the car and squeezing his seatbelt as if it would save him from Colt’s shamelessly lunatic driving.
“I literally do this for a living.” Colt laughed as he zipped his car between lanes and through the light traffic.
“You crash things for a living!” Ryland snapped back, “Just slow down!” And Colt did. Frantically. He zipped to such a sharp stop that Ryland went reeling forward with the G-force. By the time Ryland got back, he was already undoing his seatbelt, trying to fight the door open.
“Where are you going?” Colt tried to ask through his cackling.
“I would rather walk for two hours than drive with you for two more minutes. Unlock the door!”
“Okay, okay, I’m done, calm down! Just buckle up. I’ll drive safer, I promise.”
Ryland glared at his twin, debating whether trusting him might get him killed, but ultimately he just groaned and clicked his seatbelt back in. “Fine. But next time, I’m kicking you out of the driver’s seat and taking over.” He warned.
“You don’t even know how to drive.” Colt laughed, “You’re way more likely to get into a wreck than me.”
“I still trust myself more than you.”
“Brutal.”
Still, Colt held true to his promise, picking up to a reasonable speed and driving significantly safer. Now that they weren’t five seconds away from a potential wreck, Ryland could actually look around and take note of his surroundings. “This isn’t the same way we went last time, is it?”
“Nope, we’re going to a different part of town. We’re actually pretty close to wrapping up for the film, but we still have some shots to get at the riverline.” Colt explained as they paused at a stoplight, his hands drumming against the steering wheel impatiently.
Ryland nodded, glancing around the streets despite how dark it still was. The sun was starting to breach the horizon, but it still had a ways to go before it would feel like daytime again.
“I heard some voices from your room last night.” Colt started casually, glancing over at Ryland and quirking a judgmental brow.
“What?”
“Your smile is so dynamic, Tom,” Colt quoted him in a floaty, dramatic voice, and Ryland felt his face explode with heat. “I want to fall asleep on call with you while you guess what this shitty note I stole said—”
“Shut up, shut up, stop talking!” Ryland talked over him and whacked at his arm, making Colt jerk away with an offended laugh. “It was not like that! I was being nice!”
“By calling his smile ‘dynamic’? It’s a wonder you don’t have an angry mob of would-be lovers following you around, if that’s your definition of “being nice”.” Colt taunted, and Ryland groaned, covering his face, feeling like an embarrassed teenager for the first time in literal years. “No wonder he’s all over you—”
“I think now is a great time to just stop talking!” Ryland interrupted again, clicking on the radio and putting it up loud enough to drown out Colt’s voice.
Colt laughed again, turning the radio down and clicking his fingers to get Ryland’s attention. “Look, Rylie, I’m respecting you as an adult to make your own choices, but like… You gotta get a little bit smarter than this, okay? If you’re not trying to flirt, that’s too bad, ‘cause you are, and Tom’s the kinda guy who will take those little miscommunications and he’ll run with them.”
This felt like high school all over again. Ryland scrubbed his hand over the back of his head uncomfortably, his voice deciding to fail him when he tried to open his mouth to answer, so all he could do was just nod in understanding.
“I’m not trying to harp on you.” Colt nudged at his shoulder. “I just wanna take care of you. You’re my baby brother.”
“By like, nineteen minutes.” Ryland grumbled.
“Nineteen minutes of wisdom that I have over you. And a lifetime of scars on my heart to prove it.” Colt tried to give him a reassuring smile. “Just try to be a little more careful with what you say to him, that’s all I’m saying.”
“I’ll try.” Ryland nodded. He hovered his hand over the volume button again, looking at Colt for consent, who just grinned and nodded, and the car was immediately filled with the introductory acoustic riff of This Afternoon by Nickelback, followed by Chad Kroeger’s wonderfully raspy voice. There were few genres Ryland and Colt could agree on, but they would always have a soft spot for their mom’s ‘divorced dad rock’ collection.
It was like a curse how many little things would remind Tom of his struggles this morning. He tried everything in his books to get this terrible feeling over with, but drugs didn’t help, beer wasn’t an option, and nobody on set was interesting enough to invite them to his trailer. Well, that’s not true. One person was, but he was not interested in Tom the way he needed. Because he “wasn’t that kind of person”.
But it was making his life a living hell. Getting his makeup done? Just tipping his head back so they could pad the foundation down his neck had his mouth running dry, just thinking of what he could be looking up at. Getting his costume? Having his shirt straightened out for him sent his imagination spinning with the image of Ryland dragging it up, his head tilted down, trying to hide the cute redness in his face. Even getting strapped up with his microphone had him sweating more than he ever had before.
God, he was gonna lose his fucking mind today.
Tom adjusted the bandana that was tied just perfectly around his forehead to have his hair flow out of it just right. He was very particular about how the costumer tied it so it would look right, but the threading was starting to itch around his hairline. He was halfway tempted to go back to the costume coordinator and tell them to find a better bandana when he overheard his radio, “Tom Ryder’s stunt double to set B, please, and Tom Ryder to set B.”
Duty calls. He took another long swig of the ice-cold water that he would much rather replace with coffee, but the last thing he needed was caffeine to get his blood pumping more than it already was. He brought the walkie to his mouth and clicked it on. “Copy. On my way.” Hm. That actually reminded him… “Hey, Colt, you bringin’ RyRy along today?”
There were a few moments of silence before Colt picked up on the radio. “Sorry, I think there’s some kinda interference on the walkies—”
“Hi, Tom.”
“Shut u—” The walkie clicked off halfway through a scolding, and Tom couldn’t help but laugh.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He answered, “Did you already get treated to a cup of coffee?”
There was a long silence following his question, and Tom almost wondered if Colt had turned off his walkie-talkie, but he was reassured not a moment later. “I did not. We just got here a few minutes ago. Is this not an inappropriate use of your communicators?” He could hear that laughter with a tiny hint of rasp to it, and Tom felt his smile brighten tenfold.
“Maybe.” Tom clicked in again. “Not as inappropriate as half the shit Colt and Jody say, though. Be grateful you’ve never been subjected to it.”
Tom could see Ryland off in the distance, putting the walkie up to his mouth and pushing Colt away so he could keep it. “I’m incredibly thankful, and I apologize on his behalf for whatever you might’ve heard, since I know he… wouldn’t.” Ryland met Tom’s gaze from across the set, trailing off over the walkie.
He couldn’t help but laugh smugly, a hand scruffing through his hair to fluff it back over the bandana. “Like what you see?” He asked over the walkie.
“It’s just an interesting costume.” Ryland answered far too quickly, and Colt had just enough time at that moment to snatch the walkie-talkie back.
“Stop flirting with my brother, I’m actually getting secondhand embarrassment for both of you.” Colt barked obnoxiously in a way that just reminded Tom of an annoying chihuahua. Tom rolled his eyes as he finally got close enough to stop using the walkie-talkies.
“Good to see your panties have gotten even more twisted than they were at the club.” Tom greeted Colt, and as Ryland tried to wave, Tom caught his hand to place a kiss on his knuckles.
“Asking you to get out of my brother’s panties is not an invitation for you to get in mine.” Colt swatted the actor away from Ryland’s hand, stepping in between them, but he could see Ryland trying to cover a small smile behind his hand. “Can we focus on the job?” Colt redirected, gesturing to the man who’d called them over on the walkie originally, Eric, who was one of the writers and producers for the film.
Tom grinned as he gestured for Colt to take the lead, but Colt stubbornly did not move. Tom shrugged and took another swig of his water, starting the path towards Eric. Whenever Colt started following him, he turned around enough to blow a kiss back at Ryland. Colt immediately swatted at Tom to try to get him back on task, and he couldn’t help but laugh again.
“Y’all done?” Eric asked in a country accent, and Tom only shrugged and grinned.
“I’m just having a little fun.”
“Flirting with my brother.” Colt grumbled in aggravation, arms crossing over his chest.
Eric redirected them, snapping his fingers with both hands to get their attention. “I don’t care what y’all doin, y’er here to work. Now, we rewrote the final battle to flow a li’l better with the direction we’ve got goin’ so far, so— Hey! Tom! One, two, three, eyes on me!”
He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the obnoxious phrase. It felt infantilizing. He glared back at Eric with all the fury he could muster, teeth gritting, but he did acquiesce. It wasn’t his fault if he could feel that Ryland was watching them, or if that made him want to watch Ryland back. Or check him out. Or both. He would like to do both.
“Thank you. We need your input here, it’s your character, and it’s your stunts.” Eric gestured between the two of them respectively. “So we’re talkin’ about the final invasion…”
Tom didn’t try to zone out. It just happened, honestly. It wasn’t like it mattered much; Tom Ryder could pull off just about any changes made to the script, so he wasn’t too worried about what they wanted to change. He'd run through most of his water by the time Eric finally stopped talking, but thank god he eventually did.
“Mhm. Sounds good to me.” Tom shrugged it all off dismissively.
“Sounds good, huh? What was the last stunt we just added?”
“The uhh… Getting hit by a tank bomb, I think.”
“... Alright. You’re good then.” Holy shit, that actually worked? “Go on, you can get a new copy of the script from Talia.”
Ryder gave him a two-fingered salute and an award-winning smile as he stumbled away. Colt was about to go walking as well when Eric clicked his fingers again, and glancing back, Tom could see the look of murder in Colt's eyes. Yeah, he doesn’t blame him. He hates when Eric does that shit. Makes him feel like a dog. But at least it wasn’t to Tom this time, so he could take a bit of amusement out of it. He snickered as he waved at Colt tauntingly before Colt turned back around to face Eric and keep talking.
Sweet. So he had a little time to talk to Ryland one-on-one. As Tom started back towards the nerd in question, he suavely grabbed the script out of Talia’s hands and winked at her as he went by, completely disregarding her attempts to talk to him about the changes. “Yup, yup, sounds good, thank you, darlin’!” Tom called back to her as he walked away.
Ryland noticed right away when Tom kept walking towards him, and he couldn’t help but smile, tucking it behind his fist again. “Did you get in trouble or something?”
“Nope, script changes.” Tom shrugged as he approached the doctor, a smile on his face. “You know, sweetheart, you have been driving me crazy for the last ten hours.” He nudged the hand away from Ryland’s face and cupped his chin. “I think I have time before my next shoot, if you’ve changed your mind about me?”
The warmth that exploded on Ryland’s face had no right to be so satisfying, but it was so adorable. Ryland quickly backed out of the hand on his chin, shaking his head quickly. “Nope, unfortunately for you, I still have not changed my mind.” He answered without missing a beat, a little laugh accompanying his words. He then offered an overhead, innocent wave to something behind him, and Tom had to glance back to see what he was waving at, only to find Colt death-glaring him as if he could actually make Tom drop dead on the spot if he stared hard enough.
Tom couldn’t help himself, an arm slinking around Ryland’s shoulders as he waved as well. Ryland stepped out of his grip just as quickly as before. “Well, you can always text me if you do.” Tom tacked on again, his smile charming and flirty in its dynamic as much as possible.
“Right.” Ryland scoffed, “I think I’ll be okay. Thanks.”
“Suit yourself, pretty boy.” Tom shrugged. “So how about that coffee, hm? They make it special for me, and it’s not quite as good as my homemade brew, but it’s still better than the standard shit they hand out.”
“I actually quite like the “standard” coffee that they hand out, but I’d be happy to try it your way.”
The actor grinned even brighter, bringing his walkie up to his mouth. “Can I get a PA to bring two cups of Ryder’s coffee to set B?” He lowered it again, stuffing it into his pocket. “So, do you just like, refuse to curse or something?”
“What? Oh— Well, I used to before I started teaching. But I got in a lot of trouble when I first started because I cursed in the middle of a class, and I just… had to cut those words out of my vocabulary entirely.” Ryland explained, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was easier to stop using them altogether than to stop using them in specific settings.”
“Why’s that kinda adorable?”
Ryland scoffed sheepishly, averting his gaze again. “I don’t know. You have a weird definition of adorable, I guess.”
Tom was about to say something else when someone came up to him, offering him those two cups of coffee. “Nice. Thanks.” Tom grabbed them and passed one to Ryland, winking at the PA as they left.
“I thought you only wink with your right eye?” Ryland pointed out, and a bubble of warmth blew up in Tom’s chest.
“Aww, you remembered.” He laughed, “I wink with my right eye when I’m flirting, wink with my left when I’m being friendly.” He demonstrated with a right-eyed wink, and Ryland rolled his eyes.
“Strange, but I’m probably in no place to talk.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re just asking to get that right eye gouged out, then.” Colt appeared between them, and Tom couldn’t help but snicker.
“Try it, and you lose your contract.” Tom warned, glancing at Ryland to give him a reassuring smile just to say he hadn’t forgotten his promise.
Colt scoffed in aggravation, arm going around his twin’s shoulders, and this touch, Ryland did not shy away from. There was no envy associated with that observation, mind you. Totally not. “Ry, mind if I talk to you for a sec? Just over here?”
Ryland looked back to where Colt was gesturing, then at Tom, as if apologizing in advance. They took all of 10 steps to the left before Colt immediately started ripping on him. Something something, “What happened to being careful?!”, something something, “Be smarter than this!”, something something, “Stop being nice!”
If he was trying to be subtle, Colt was failing miserably. Tom was staring right at him through the entirety of his scolding when he heard a ping on his walkie to get ready for a take in 5. Tom took this as an excellent opportunity to walk by them, his hand moving up to intentionally brush the back of his fingers against the back of Ryland’s neck. “I’ll talk to you later, sweetheart. Enjoy the coffee.” He intentionally dropped his voice a pitch lower as he spoke right next to Ryland’s ear, a smug smile on his face as he stared right at Colt with half-lidded, self-satisfied eyes, before walking away.
Fury was not a strong enough word to describe the look of absolute rage on Colt’s face. It would’ve been a little amusing if Ryland had not been totally startled (and a bit flustered) by that little interaction with Tom. He looked back where Tom had gone, not even looking back at Ryland as he went. He had that absurd bubble in his stomach again, the same feeling he’d gotten at Tom’s apartment when Tom had pushed Ryland’s hands away and fixed his glasses for him after he totally embarrassed himself by totally dragging one of Tom's movies.
God, just thinking about it made his chest feel suffocatingly tight. It was a new kind of discomfort he was not used to, though he assumed it to be a type of anxiety he hadn’t experienced before. To be fair, most people weren’t typically this touchy or flirty with him, so it wasn’t like he had an opportunity to feel this kind of anxiety before.
“Rylie? Ryland! No!” Colt tried to gather his attention again, grabbing the doctor’s shoulders to shake him out of his daze. “Come back to me. Hey. You see me?”
Ryland stared at him through the slightly dizzying haze in his eyes, brows furrowed. “Unfortunately.”
“Good. I need you, and I’m being entirely serious here, to wipe that look off of your face and stop thinking whatever you’re thinking.” Colt explained. “Did you hear me literally any of the times that I’ve said Tom is a parasite, he’s literally playing you, and all he wants from you is to fuck you and move on?”
With an aggravated huff, Ryland stepped out of his brother’s grip. “And did you hear me literally any of the times I’ve said I’m still not interested in that?”
“Yeah? Cause you sure as hell aren’t acting like it!”
Ryland was about to respond when someone shouted over a megaphone, “Quiet on set!” And all the nearby lights dimmed, letting the natural sunlight shine through. Ryland looked around, startled, when Colt groaned and dropped his head back.
“We’re not done with this. We’re talking about it as soon as we get home.”
“Good, I’ll make it a point not to go home when you’re awake, then.” Ryland didn’t allow his twin to respond, quickly speed-walking away to get out of range and looking for a place to watch the current take that was being filmed.
There were dozens of people scrambling to their positions. He could faintly hear the chattering nearby, dozens of people chattering to give updates from their respective roles. Ryland could see Tom settling under a tree that was sprouting unevenly between an odd number of bases, fixing the fingerless gloves he was wearing before giving a thumbs up to the director. A dozen more updates would be chimed out before Michael shouted the cue. Ryland couldn’t hear what Tom was saying from his post near the wall, so he tried to quietly scurry through the crowd to get closer to the scene, which landed him just near the director’s seat.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Tom spoke, his voice fitted with an Australian accent that sounded so natural, Ryland almost wondered if Tom might not actually be American. “The way the sunlight hits the horizon.” He added, but Ryland couldn’t see anyone in the shot, so he idly wondered who Tom’s character was supposed to be talking to. “You can stop hiding, you know. Nobody’s gonna see you way out here.”
On cue, a familiar-faced woman, painted head to toe in green body paint with small antennae sticking out of her forehead, stepped out from the treeline behind Tom. “I can never be too careful with your kind.” The woman answered with a voice that he could only describe as 'floaty', coated with the kind of wisdom you might expect from a priestess.
“My kind isn’t like that, Lyra.” Tom looked up at her with such a subtly saddened expression. “Commander Jones doesn’t represent all of us.” He held his hand up to the woman in the religious-style robes, and she took it carefully, coming to sit down next to him. “I mean… Look at me. We get along, don’t we?”
Lyra looked at him with an expression that was hard to read, somewhere between sadness and yearning. “That’s such an understatement.”
“I didn’t wanna label it before you were ready.” Tom answered with a sweet smile that wasn't like any of the others Ryland had seen on his face before. Lyra’s lips curved into a suave smile to match as she slid in to straddle him with such a practiced ease, you would think they’d done this hundreds of times by now.
“I’m ready.” She reassured, cupping his face, and the way Tom looked up at her… His eyes looked so soft. He looked so reverent, so devoted, Ryland almost felt like he was actually intruding on a real moment between him and his co-star. She leaned in with a practiced slowness, and their lips met. Tom’s hands came to settle on her hips as he kissed her back.
His movements seemed a little different than normal, though — Well, he’d only really had one experience to gauge what was “normal” for Tom, which was at the club the first day Ryland had arrived. At the club, Tom was so confident when he was with that barista; he guided every movement with such control and precision that he looked like he’d done it a million times over. Here, he was more… timid, Ryland supposed. Softer. He was so gentle with every touch that it looked like he was afraid to shatter Lyra with one wrong move.
And when the actors separated from their kiss, that bubble was back in Ryland’s stomach again as he saw the look in Tom’s eyes again. He really sold the look of love well. The actors shared a tender look before glancing down, and Ryland just now noticed that Tom’s hand was starting to slide between the slits in Lyra’s robe. “Can I…?” Tom asked, his voice so soft, Ryland almost didn’t hear it.
The nod Lyra returned with was a signal for Ryland that it was time to stop watching. His face felt uncomfortably hot again, and the bubble was making him feel nauseous. He took a long drink of his coffee from earlier as he turned away. It wasn’t even three seconds later that the director shouted, “Cut!”
Ryland glanced back in confusion, and saw the actors separating, but they were in a different position than they were before — Tom had flipped them so he was on top, and his overcoat was discarded now, laid under Lyra so she didn’t have to settle any bare skin against the rocks and stones of the shoreline. The camera was tilted up from where it had been positioned earlier, and the director was hopping out of his chair to go race up to Tom and — He didn’t know the other actor’s name, just her character name, so… Lyra. “Excellent! Tom, Jenesy, you were excellent!” He was practically yelling, grabbing Tom’s neck and kissing his forehead, then mirroring that sequence with Jenesy. “I can’t believe that! One take, and you got it fuckin’ perfect!”
“Thank you,” Tom laughed, glancing around the set. His eyes met with Ryland’s for a fleeting moment before Ryland felt that bubble growing like it was ready to burst, so he quickly glanced away again. He wanted to talk to Tom about his acting, because that really was incredible, but admittedly, he’d like his face to cool down again before he could feel comfortable doing so.
Ryland Grace would not be granted this mercy, unfortunately. He had all of ten seconds to cool down before he felt a hand at the middle of his back, startling him, as Tom rounded the corner of his vision. “Enjoying the view, I take it?”
More than he would like to admit. “No,” Ryland answered, and even he knew it was a little too fast to sound honest. “Just… nice— Nice acting.” He gestured back to where Tom’s shot was, swallowing as he felt his mouth go dry mid-sentence. “It’s kind of scary how well you can change your whole demeanor.”
“Yeah, years of practice, I guess.” Tom smiled. “Hold on, don’t tell me you liked that sappy version of me?”
“What? No. I mean— the uh, the scene was really nice, it was very well done, but I don’t…” Midway through talking, Ryland caught sight of the way Tom was looking at him. That same reverence, that softness, the kind of look that he could only accurately describe as puppy dog eyes, was now pointed at him. Ryland physically felt his heart skip, his shoulders tensing as he skirted his gaze away. “Stop looking at me like that.”
The boisterous laughter that followed only made Ryland feel all the more mortified, his hands coming to cover his face and pushing his glasses out of the way. “Oh my god, you are too cute.” Tom complimented, his voice airy and light with a sort of joy that made Ryland’s chest feel like it was going to burst. He hated this feeling, he decided. It felt like his own body was trying to rip itself apart from the inside out, and he hated it.
Ryland couldn’t help but put a hand to his chest as if it would make it any easier to take a deep breath. “You’re… terrible.” Ryland complained. “I’m trying to be nice, and you’re making fun of me.”
“Making fun of you? Oh, no, sweetheart, I promise you, this is not me making fun of you.” Tom assured, picking up Ryland’s hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss the back of his knuckles with the same tenderness he’d shown to Lyra just moments ago. This was cruel, right? This felt awfully cruel for something supposedly so innocent. “You would know if I was.”
“Really? Cause I seem to know that’s what you’re doing now.” Ryland tugged his hand back in probably the gentlest motion he’d ever done with Tom, but he reasoned that he just didn’t want to risk hurting Tom since his hand was so close to his face.
If Tom noticed, he didn’t say anything. He only shook his head and smiled at Ryland with that same tenderness. “So… Was it a poem?”
“What?”
“The sticky note.” Tom tried to dig through his coat, only to find that it was still missing, left behind on the rocks and stones from a few moments ago. He glanced back and rolled his eyes, but didn’t make any moves to go and fetch it. “I was writing down a couple things that it might be, but you really have me by the fantastic short and curlies.”
Ryland almost forgot about that. More so, he almost forgot that Tom was still trying to guess it. Still, this was better. This didn’t make him feel like his body was evicting all the air from his lungs anymore, and that was very much appreciated. “Oh. Right. Yeah— well, sort of? It’s a little short to be a poem, but… It’s related to poems.”
“Related… Okay.” The actor debated this for a minute, his eyes idly studying over Ryland as he tried to find a potential answer. Seeing his face slightly scrunch up, his nose a little tighter at the bridge, and his lips perched a little to the side as he tried to think, made Ryland smile warmly. Tom snapped out of it after a moment, and he was clearly about to make a guess when he paused. “What? What are you smiling at?”
“Nothing. Do you have a guess?” Explaining how he appreciated the way Tom looked when he was thinking is probably not ‘being careful’ about what he said to Tom. It would be just his luck for Colt to be watching them like a hawk somewhere, scrutinizing Ryland’s every word for something to lecture him about later.
“Was it the ‘forgive yourself, it’s your first time living too’ note?”
“That’s a really good guess, but no.” Ryland grinned, “I like that one, though.”
“Maybe next time you come over, you can take that one, too.” Tom suggested smoothly, and Ryland couldn’t help but snicker.
“You’re pretty quick to assume I’m coming over again.”
“I’m sure you will.” Tom shrugged like it was the only natural answer. “So if it’s not that one… You said it was related to poems, right?” Ryland nodded, and Tom went back to thinking. He didn’t have much time to consider it before communications lit up over the walkie-talkie, redirecting him to the next shot. He dropped his head back in annoyance, picking up the communicator to answer it. “Be there soon.” Tom set it back in his pocket, looking back to Ryland with a small smile. “I will figure out that sticky note.”
Ryland chuckled and nodded. “I believe you. You’re really close to figuring it out already.”
“Here.” Tom fished his walkie out of his pocket again, offering it to Ryland. “In case I can’t find you when I do think of it.”
He hesitated in taking the communicator, smiling awkwardly. “Isn’t this only supposed to be for the people working on this film?”
“You are working,” Tom reasoned, winking. “You’re my muse.”
“Wh—” Ryland felt his face warm again as he scoffed, forcing his gaze onto the walkie-talkie instead. “…You could just text me.”
“Yeah, but I like to hear your pretty voice.”
Okay, that terrible bubble is back again, and Ryland was suddenly hating his life again. He scoffed dismissively, waving Tom off. “Go. You’re gonna get in trouble if you take too long.” Tom laughed and sent a lazy wave to Ryland before he started up the hill for wherever set A was supposed to be.
Ugh. If that terrible bubbly feeling in Ryland’s gut doesn’t stop tormenting him, he might actually get sick over it soon. He hated it.