Chapter Text
Ryland sat in his apartment, leg bouncing restlessly and eyes fixated on the potted plant sitting on his coffee table, glasses having slid partially down the bridge of his nose with the persistent motion of his leg moving the rest of his body. His last little meeting with the florist - Simon - had resulted in both the embarrassment of realizing he had already known his name on account of the lanyard, and then the awkwardness of having walked into a shop without knowing what to buy again. Ever the patient saint, Simon had helped him pick something to take home, and Ryland was now the proud owner of a tiny sunflower.
He hadn’t even known that sunflowers could be so small.
Apparently, they were called dwarf sunflowers, and had some variations in color. This one was a deep yellow, with rusty-reddish banding over the innermost portions of the petals, closest to the center. It was a pretty little thing, and Simon had assured him that it was easy to care for. Thankfully, he had a window in his apartment that got enough sun during the day to keep it healthy. For now, he was just examining it while his mind did backflips over itself. The day had been so eventful, and he was still anticipating a video call from his two favorite people in the whole wide world. Leaning back, he willed his leg to stop bouncing and stared up at the ceiling, instead.
He and Rocky had met in their second year of university. They both ended up together as roommates in a small, two-bedroom apartment just outside of the school, because all of the on-campus boarding had been filled up. Ryland was already notoriously problematic at the time, frequently arguing with his fellow students and professors alike, openly debating their ideas and seemingly fueled by pure spite. It was this that led to him almost not getting a roommate to share the rent with, which would have made his debts that much deeper, but Rocky had seemed to take Ryland as a personal challenge. They butted heads a lot, in the first months of living together. Rocky was bossy, liked things to have a certain structure, and met Ryland’s combative nature like a brick wall, rarely pushing back but always standing his ground. They had never gotten physical, of course, and it was a pretty good thing that they didn’t, because Rocky could have easily kicked his ass. The man was in school for advanced engineering, but he worked as a mechanic back then, and he was built like a boulder; stocky and as strong as he was smart. Communication was a little difficult between them as well, and not only because they argued.
Rocky was physically mute.
He used a special text-to-speech program to make him easier to understand for anyone who didn’t know sign language. Ryland was one of those people, at the time, and he often got more frustrated by the robot voice being demanding than he would have if it were anyone else speaking normally. It also didn't help that Rocky was just as hard-headed as he was in addition to English not being his first language (as Ryland was reminded time and time again when he was berated in Filipino). And yet, somehow, things changed between them five months into living together.
The arguments had been lessening, the two of them settling into an uneasy truce as they learned to navigate each other's personalities. Neither of them were very avid party-goers, with Rocky being more focused on his studies while Ryland was simply unpopular among his peers, so they often spent weekends vaguely occupying the same space. At some point, they had sat down in the living room together, flipping through channels on the TV until they settled on some reruns of Mystery Science Theater 3000. By the end of the night, they had been laughing and poking fun at the ridiculous movies.
The tone in the apartment had shifted that night.
Ryland was much calmer, by the third year of university. His best, and only, friend had managed to help him temper his wild streak. He was less combative with others, and while he was still an enthusiastic debater, still challenged people on their existing knowledge versus new studies, he was less mean about it. Some of his professors had come to like him more, even if his tendencies to ask hard questions would interrupt class for a time, until he was satisfied with the answers provided. Rocky's influence had drawn out a softer side of him that he had fought to hide behind academics and some sense of superiority with his knowledge. His roommate had a way of shoving past those walls to unearth the very lonely man underneath, and there had been a moment where Ryland broke down, cracked open and raw, sobbing like the emotional wreck that he was and lamenting a life that had been taken from him too soon. A single mother, who had pushed him into doing what he loved right up to the day she passed in a hospital bed, begging him to chase the things he wanted and not let them slip away.
The confession had come with understanding on Rocky's part. Understanding, and empathy, things that Ryland had received very little of since her loss. They had grown much closer after that. Throughout the rest of their university years, they were practically inseparable, attached at the hip when they weren't in class. It bordered on codependency, right up to graduation. Rocky had already been offered jobs overseas, and Ryland was offered grants for research and a couple of positions in microbiology labs, so they ended up having to part ways. That wasn't to say they ever lost contact, though. If anything, the distance brought them closer, always chatting and sending snippets of their lives to each other, taking trips out to visit at least once a year.
Then the UNESCO conference happened.
It had only been a few years since his graduation, but his research and methods had been under heavy scrutiny from the start. Without Rocky around to tamp down the embers of his ego, Ryland had been getting more and more heated. He had used that heat to drive him, to write his papers, to do his research. Despite the waves he was making in the community, he was still gathering tentative respect amongst his fellow scientists, so he had gone to the conference to present his paper, written with the spice of spite.
He'd been laughed at. Scoffed at. Ridiculed.
He broke, and it was spectacularly bad. It was the first and last time that he had commanded the attention of an entire room, with hundreds of people, hanging on every word just to bear witness to the worst crash-out in his life. It had ended both his career and his self-respect.
Rocky had flown out to see him not even two days later.
Another few years of aimlessness followed. He had been miserable, reduced to a burnt-out shell of who he was, as if the violent expulsion of energy at the conference had emptied him of any and all fire for life. He had failed his field, himself and his mother with that singular outburst, and his temper had simmered, then evaporated. He remembered when Rocky started telling him about Adrian, not long after he started working toward becoming a teacher, because he had to use his doctorate for something, right? It was a turning point in his life, having direction again, and Rocky had not only been excelling in his own field, but had become absolutely smitten with this nonbinary scientist in the complex that he worked in. At first, Ryland had been incredibly jealous, but when Rocky continued to not only keep in contact, but introduce them to each other over a video call, he had gotten it, one hundred percent.
Adrian was of Indian descent, separated from their family to study environmental sciences, specifically working toward the development of green technology. Rocky, being the brilliant engineer that he was, had been brought onto one of their projects, and they had hit it off very well. Two intellectuals, incredibly skilled in their fields. They were practically made for each other, the way they would banter and bounce ideas off of one another. They even shared similar music tastes, something that he and Rocky had to work around for a while before finding common ground. It was incredibly sweet, and Ryland had come to love Adrian just as he loved Rocky. They were stern, but kind. Intelligent and driven, with strong aspirations and a quiet determination to make the world a better place.
They were everything he could never be.
But the three of them got along like a water molecule. They were two oxygen atoms, and he was the hydrogen that they had somehow, miraculously, bonded with. He couldn't have asked for better friends.
It was this thought that he landed on just before his messenger app went off with a video call notification. He checked the time. They were currently in western Indonesia, and it was 8pm in San Francisco. Add 14 hours…
10am. A little late in the morning for them to be calling, shouldn't they be at work?
He shrugged to himself and answered the call, his camera blinking to life to show his tired mug for all of them to see. He ran his fingers through his hair.
“Oh jeez, I should have brushed my hair first, I look rough,” he chuckled, grinning shyly at Rocky as he shook his head.
“Grace is always looking rough,” came Rocky's electronic voice. It sounded a little different from the last time Ryland had heard it, a little smoother. More natural.
“Did you get a voice update?” Ryland asked, leaning forward a little.
“New recordings, yes! Custom, just for me!” he said proudly. Ryland was certain that he was puffing out his chest, even if he couldn't see it. Rocky had always been so expressive with his body language.
“Okay, well, I hope I'll get to hear it in person in a couple of months. You guys are still coming to visit for the winter break, right?”
“Of course,” came Adrian's voice from off-screen, which was quickly rectified as Rocky moved the camera to face both of them. “There is no way that we would miss a chance to spend time with you.”
Ryland smiled, fiddling with a lock of his hair as his chest warmed.
“I really do appreciate it. I miss you guys a lot.”
“You're going to be extra leaky when we get there, aren't you?” Rocky accused, making Ryland bark a laugh.
“You're still calling me leaky?”
“Because you are. I didn't have to see you to know you were crying earlier,” Rocky stated.
“Yeah yeah, not my fault that the two people I love most in this world are finally engaged!”
Adrian smiled, their calm face ever so gentle as they let Rocky take their hand and kiss their knuckles, flashing the ring on camera.
“That's a gorgeous ring, by the way,” Ryland added.
“I made it!” Rocky said, practically glowing. “Learned how to do, just for Adrian.”
“That is unbelievably sweet, Rock,” Ryland said, his grin wrinkling the corners of his eyes. “I can't wait to see what you guys do for the ceremony.”
“Will be beautiful!” Rocky replied, making Adrian snicker, which only made him preen further. He then jabbed at the camera with his finger. “And we will fly you out for it! Don't you dare buy the plane tickets!”
Ryland laughed, resting his cheek in his hand. He could tell he was blushing a little, with how warm his face was. He had so much love in his heart for these two.
“If you insist,” he sighed.
“We do,” said Adrian. “It wouldn't be the same without you.”
“Aw, you guys are going to make me cry again-”
“HA! I knew it! Leaky!” Rocky blurted, which didn't stop the tears from falling, but made him laugh regardless, even as he dabbed under his glasses with the collar of his shirt.
“I love you guys,” Ryland chuckled wetly.
Rocky's face settled into an affectionate smile.
“We love Grace very much. So excited to be able to see you again.”
“Unfortunately,” Adrian began, tapping on the watch wrapped around their wrist, “we don't have a lot of time to talk right now, but we wanted to catch you before bedtime to chat. We're already two hours late.”
“Wha-two hours? Guys, why are-”
“Sleep too long, right through alarm,” Rocky explained. “Called in to let them know we would be late, but still there.”
“Oh, dang, okay. I was wondering why you had called so late…”
Ryland perked up, remembering that he had wanted to tell them about his discovery that morning.
“Oh! Before you go, a new flower shop opened up on my route to work!” he said with a cheery smile. “The florist is very kind, I got a couple of plants from him.”
“Grace not good with plants,” Rocky said, squinting at the camera. “Plants always die.”
“Well, I'll have you know, this guy knows his stuff! Gave me some easy plants to take care of, and!” He picked up the little care card that had come with the dwarf sunflower, holding it up in front of the phone. “He has these really informative instructions for making sure they don't die! So ha!”
Rocky rolled his eyes, but the easy grin on his face betrayed his amusement.
“Take care of plants, but also take care of Grace, yes?” he said.
A soft huff escaped through his nose, but Ryland couldn't deny his best friend.
“Yeah, I'll take care of Grace, too. No worries.”
“Very good. Adrian and I must go, but will text later. Sleep well, Grace. Much much much love.”
Adrien gave the camera a little finger heart, which Ryland did his best to do one-handed. He thought maybe he had seen some of his students doing a thing where they pinched their thumbs and index fingers together, so he gave it a try. It kind of looked like a little heart, he supposed. Adrian seemed tickled by it, regardless.
“Until next time, guys,” he said, and they both waved goodbye to him before the call cut out.
He stared at his home screen for a few seconds more, then hit the power button to turn the screen off, setting the phone down on his table next to the sunflower. His limbs were starting to feel so heavy, even though the call had barely been fifteen minutes. Maybe it would be a good idea to turn in early. With a grunt, he rose from the couch and picked the flower up off the table. He carried it over to the window that would have the most sun during the day and set it down carefully, eyeing it for a moment before turning away. He found his mind wandering again as he headed off to bed, strangely melancholic despite the excitement of the day.
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
Ryland was so reluctant to rise at his alarm in the morning.
It went off at its usual time, 5:45am, giving him three snoozes before he absolutely needed to get up. That was his usual routine, having never really been a morning person. Which, admittedly, was a little bit of a problem when his job was teaching. He hadn’t expected to be back in the halls of a school after university, though. If he hadn’t screwed up so astronomically bad, maybe he would be doing lab work and research at his own hours, right now.
He slapped the snooze button, and let himself doze off again,
The second time, he jolted back awake at the harsh beeping and grumbled in annoyance before smacking the button again.
He felt a twinge of anger at the third alarm, nearly knocking the clock off of his bedside table in an effort to get it to go silent again. The anger subsided as quickly as it arose, however, as he melted back into light slumber.
By the time the final alarm came, he was just sad. He contemplated just calling in sick, but it was already past the appropriate time to do so in order to avoid getting some sort of strike against his record. With a heavy sigh, he shut the alarm off properly and rolled onto his back to stretch himself out of sleep. Getting into his morning routine was the hardest part of the day, but it was mostly automatic once he actually started. Bathroom, shower, teeth, hair, get dressed, grab his satchel, keys, wallet, helmet, out the door. He would stop in at the diner for a bite to eat, so long as he was on time. He had refrained from making himself run late, so breakfast was definitely a possibility. Taking a little detour, he veered off onto a different road, cycling toward his new destination.
His booth in the corner was occupied this morning, and he almost sat down in another one a few seats down when he noticed who had taken his spot. It was Simon, sitting with a mug of coffee and a journal of some kind, jotting down notes, by the looks of it. Ryland, curious, slipped into the booth just in front of him. Simon was sitting with his back to the wall, facing the door, so it wasn’t as though he would get spooked if someone were to turn in their seat and say hello. A waitress swung by to ask him if he wanted his usual, to which he happily said yes. She gave him a polite smile and hurried off, and once she was out of sight, he heard that familiar voice behind him, and it somehow smoothed over the rough edges of his morning.
“Grace?”
He turned in his seat, feigning mild surprise.
“Oh, hey Simon! Fancy seeing you here,” he chuckled.
Simon gave him a smile, and for whatever reason, that alone was enough to break the clouds in Ryland’s mind, like sunlight filtering in through a storm.
“I would ask if you come here often, but it looks like you do,” Simon said, nodding toward where the waitress had headed off to. “What’s your usual?”
“Oh, standard breakfast fare. Bacon and eggs, two pancakes and a cup of coffee. I’ve been coming here for a couple of years, so some of them just know me by this point,” Ryland explained with a shrug.
“This is my first time here,” Simon said softly. “It seems nice, though…”
Ryland lifted his brows slightly, seeing Simon’s face shift. He knew that look. There was a question, sitting unasked, just beneath the surface. It was a look he had come to recognize as a teacher, knowing that some students feared asking questions because they didn’t want to seem stupid in front of their peers. Simon was wearing a similar shadow in his brow, eyes shifting down to his journal and lingering there for a moment.
“Something on your mind?” Ryland asked, prompting Simon to look back up with a measured amount of interest.
“Mmm, well…I already ordered my food, but…” His expression shifted again, this time into something more determined, as if he had made a definitive decision. “When it comes, could I sit with you?”
Ryland’s brows lifted higher and he blinked slowly.
“Of course, I mean…if you want?” he said. “I don’t usually get to have company for breakfast, so…why not?”
The answer relaxed something in Simon, some of the guarded tension in his body trickling away.
“So long as you don’t mind. Company, that is,” Simon added, slowly smoothing his thumb over the curve of his mug handle.
“Oh, no, not at all. I’d, uh…love the company.”
Those dark eyes narrowed and curved with the gentle, lopsided smile he gave, and it plucked at Ryland’s heartstrings in a way he was only vaguely familiar with, because it happened so very rarely. The waitress from before came over to set a mug in front of him, pouring hot coffee from a pot for him. He thanked her with a small smile before she bustled off to serve other customers, watching her go briefly before pushing his glasses further up on his nose, then reaching for the sugar and creamer packets in their little ceramic holder at one end of the booth. He was trying to ignore, at least momentarily, the way that he could feel Simon’s gaze on him, heavy with interest. It felt like he was being studied, but the moment he started to feel uncomfortable under the weight, it lifted. A glance behind him told him that the other man had gone back to writing in his journal. Admittedly, he was very curious about what was being written. There was a subtle pinch to Simon’s brows, an intensity in his face when he was focused. It was a small detail, but one Ryland was coming to admire.
Another waitress, presumably the one that Simon had ordered from, whisked by with a couple of plates.
“Oh, um, actually…would it be okay if you just set them over there?”
Ryland looked up, the waitress looking between him and Simon in mild confusion. He lifted a hand and gave her a little wave.
“It’s okay! He’s just moving to sit over here with me,” he chuckled, and she nodded in understanding. While Simon slid out of the booth, she set his breakfast on the other side of Ryland’s. There was a lot of protein on those plates, meats and eggs primarily, with a healthy amount of carbs in the way of toast and waffles. When Simon settled across from him, Ryland grinned.
“Breakfast of champions,” he said.
Simon looked down at his spread, the softest of laughs escaping him.
“Yeah, lots of working out and physical labor,” he explained. “I need to keep up my energy, maintain muscle mass, all that…”
Ryland wondered if maybe Simon was self-conscious about it, but with how the other tucked into his meal, he wasn’t so sure about that hypothesis anymore. Despite his apparent shyness, the other man seemed comfortable with his body, and that was relieving in a way Ryland hadn’t been expecting. Of course, he was a teacher. He was surrounded by kids with image issues, and had learned how to recognize them and put them at ease when it was appropriate. Simon didn’t really display any of those behaviors, he was just…calm. Accepting. Ryland didn’t have much time to think further before those dark eyes flitted up to meet his gaze, and held it for a few precious seconds. Ryland, ever feeling like the anxious prey animal, looked away first, rubbing at the hairs on the back of his neck in an attempt to smooth them down. When he chanced a glance back, Simon had gone back to focusing on his food.
“So, you uh…work out? Like…regularly? Weights and stuff?”
Simon blinked up at him, then set his fork down to cover his mouth while he chewed. Something about it was so charming.
“Yeah,” he began, once his mouth was less full. “I visit the gym, just down the road, on my days off, but I have some personal equipment that I work with at home. I mostly do calisthenics, but I do have, um…some barbells and resistance bands.”
Ryland nodded in understanding, then Simon prodded back with his own question.
“Do you work out? I noticed that you ride a bike.”
He had to laugh, ruffling his fingers through his golden strands.
“Not nearly as much as I should, probably. Biking is about as much physical activity as I get, beyond moving around my classroom. Even back in college, I wasn’t much of a physical guy. Most I ever did was laps around the pool or track.”
Even though he was sure he would have prompted many fights, were he amidst more violent company.
“Do you want to?”
Ryland looked up, meeting Simon’s curious stare before pointing to himself.
“Me? Work out?”
Simon nodded.
“Uuuuh, I mean…I wouldn’t really know where to start, if I’m to be completely honest.”
“I could help.”
The offer was so snappy that it took Ryland by surprise. There wasn’t even a moment's hesitation, and there was a small glimmer of something in Simon’s eyes. It was almost hopeful.
Did…Did he want to work out with him? With Ryland Grace, disgraced academic turned middle school teacher?
Well, he supposed that Simon didn’t know the disgraced part, yet. That was probably for the best.
“You…would do that?” he asked, disbelief edging his voice.
Simon shrugged.
“Why not? I don’t have a workout buddy.”
Ryland canted his head to the side, his glasses sliding a little off-kilter.
“Well, uh…Sure, yeah. Let’s do it!” he said, mustering up a nervous smile. “I can’t guarantee I’ll be any good at it, but-”
“You don’t have to be good at it. You just have to be safe while learning your limits,” Simon interjected. “You’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll be right there.”
Ryland chuckled, looking up as his waitress arrived with his breakfast. It was meager, compared to what Simon was eating, but it was what he could afford, and it put food in his belly. The two sat in a more comfortable silence for a while as they ate, but Ryland knew he was on a time crunch. He kept an eye on his weathered old watch, making sure that he still had time. Maybe if he hurried, he could still get to the school with a few minutes to spare, so he was forced to forget his manners as he swiftly tried to finish his breakfast.
“‘M sho sorry, but I nee’ to geh’t’th school!” he said around a mouthful, covering his lips with a hand as Simon had earlier before downing the rest of his coffee. “You said, uh, the gym down the road? Weekend?”
Simon’s brows lifted in surprise, but he nodded.
“I’m usually there by 10 in the morning.”
“Gotcha, I’ll meet you there on Saturday!” Ryland said, flagging the waitress down and asking for his check. “I’m sorry, I hate to run, but I didn’t realize how much time had passed already.”
The man across from him shook his head, a subtle smirk on his face.
“Don’t worry about it. Have a good day of teaching, Grace.”
Ryland’s gaze was deeply apologetic as he paid his bill and slid out of the booth, waving to Simon before hurrying out the door. It wasn’t until he arrived to the school that the realization of what he had agreed to sunk in.
Working out.
In public.
With the florist.
The very handsome, strong florist.
He groaned, rubbing his face.
This was going to be disastrous.