Chapter Text
The following days were strange.
Wile began to notice things he had ignored before. Rory arrived earlier than usual. He fell asleep in the break rooms, with his head resting on the table. He ate little. He spoke less.
One day, Wile left a granola bar on his desk. He said nothing. He just put it there and left.
The next day, Rory appeared in his lab.
"Was it yours?"
"What?"
"What you left. The granola bar."
Wile shrugged, pretending to concentrate on a circuit.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Rory smiled. That genuine smile, the one he rarely showed.
"Thanks."
"It wasn't mine."
"Of course not."
The days continued. Wile started leaving more things. A bottle of water. A sandwich. Once, a pair of new socks, because he noticed Rory's were worn out.
Rory said nothing, but he smiled. And Wile, though he wouldn't admit it, began to look forward to those smiles.
One afternoon, after work, Rory found him in the parking lot. Wile was sitting on the hood of his car, watching the sunset.
"Can I?" Rory asked, pointing to the space beside him.
Wile nodded.
They stayed in silence for a while. Then, Rory spoke.
"Why do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Take care of me."
Wile didn't respond immediately.
"I'm not taking care of you."
"Yes you are. The granola bars. The water. The socks."
"They're just... things."
"They're things nobody else does."
Wile sighed.
"What do you want me to say?"
Rory turned to look at him. His eyes were dark, sincere.
"I want you to tell me why you come back. Every time. Even though it bothers you. Even though you get hurt. Even though you say you hate me."
Wile looked at him. And for the first time, he allowed himself to see him. Not as the Roadrunner, the star athlete, the problem he had to solve. But as Rory. The blue-haired kid who smiled too much and slept too little and needed someone to remind him to eat.
"Because..." he began, but the words got stuck.
Rory waited.
"Because I like it," Wile finally said. "I like that you come back. Even if it's just to bother me."
Rory smiled. It wasn't a mocking smile. It was something more. Something that made Wile's chest feel strangely warm.
"So... are you saying you like me?"
"I didn't say that."
"You implied it."
"I didn't imply anything."
Rory laughed. A soft, genuine laugh. And he leaned in, resting his head on Wile's shoulder.
Wile stood still. Then, slowly, he let his head rest on Rory's.
"It's just that..." Rory murmured, closing his eyes. "I know you like me. And I like that you come back every time, even though it bothers you."
Wile said nothing. But he didn't move.
And for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel the need to chase anyone.
Just to stay there.
With him.