Work Text:
Ren
Ren had a headache.
A piercing, sharp, agonizing headache.
He was on the main stage at the university, it was late, far past when he’d usually be here. For some reason he had the stage lights on, which weren’t helping with the headache, his light sensitivity made him want to put his sunglasses on even though it was well past dark outside. Right? Had to be.
What was he even working on? The throbbing pain lit up behind his eyes, and he groaned, the noise felt rumbling and louder than usual. Why not just go home? But there was so much left to do…he had pages scattered all around him. His tablet was in his lap, malfunctioning as always. It tended to hang by a thread considering the strain he put on it running two networks to connect to both the over-city and under-city. Pale blue eyes scanned the space, his dog ears concealed beneath glamor stood up tall. He couldn’t hear anyone, and it was impossible to sneak up on him, especially in a space this large and empty. He’d hear the front door in the atrium banging shut, then it took another few minutes for anyone to make it to the main stage from there, footsteps clattering on the linoleum floor. Ren had done this before to get a breather, hadn’t he?
Surely at least once or twice…why not just step out to the bathroom for a moment?
But his head hurt so badly, for a moment he wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to stand. Why had he let it get this bad? His glamor headaches came on suddenly, sure, but this was far to much, why was he still here?
Couldn’t he take some of this work home?
Just a moment. Just a brief respite.
Glamor evaporated from his head, the concealment over his ears faded away in a sweep like heat haze on tarmac. Broad shoulders unwound as sweet relief eased the headache, and he closed his eyes a moment. Sighed, and the gust left his chest in a forceful breath.
“What the hell!?”
He jolted, opening his eyes again to see he wasn’t alone anymore.
Standing in the aisle down the center of the main stage, between the front row seats, staring at him with his face flushing in shock, was Martyn.
“M-Martyn!? When did you, I didn’t hear you come in! …wait, I…” He felt his tail trying to puff in defensive panic where it was concealed down his pant leg.
Wait.
It wasn’t anymore.
It was out, arching back behind him with the fluffy brown fur frizzing out, standing on end.
When had he taken it out? He usually wore his shirt tucked in…a belt and suspenders for the point of ensuring any panic wouldn’t let it whip out. He was still wearing his usual clothes, bright red button down and flared pants, suspenders, belt, so how had that happened?
“What are you?” His boyfriends voice rang loud in his ears, and his heart plummeted fast. He scrambled to his feet, tablet clattering aside on the stage. Pages sent flying.
“I-I can explain, I…” Ren started trying to offer his reasoning, why he’d concealed everything, hidden these parts of himself even as Martyn had been so patient and kind and understanding with him.
His first boyfriend. Because Ren had never been able to bear allowing himself closeness with anyone else since he’d come to the over-city at fifteen.
He took a step forward, wanting to get down off the stage. Hoping for gentle hands and comforting eyes and warm smiles that would tell him it was ok. Even if Martyn might be a bit freaked out, which Ren found to be perfectly fair, surely he wouldn’t…he wouldn’t…
He recoiled.
Martyn took a step backward, an arm raising as if to protect his throat, as if he was scared Ren was going to attack him.
His heart was chipping, fracturing, cracking. Panic drove hot needles behind his eyes, his body felt like it was trembling, yet somehow he was holding still. Frozen beneath the stage lights which were casting the shadow of tall dog ears and a tail, all his inhumanness on display like a performance the sun was never meant to see.
Martyn was never meant to see.
His tongue felt like lead when he tried to talk through it. “Martyn, please, I would never hurt you, you know that, don’t you? Never, never, I-I know this isn’t…isn’t who you met, exactly, but I’m still me. I promise.”
Electric green eyes that seemed to catch the light no matter what were vivid, they were brilliant, and Ren knew he was in love with them.
He’d never said it. It still felt much to soon. It still felt so painful, because of all the secrets he was trying to hide, now forced into the open.
“You lied to me.” Martyn hissed.
Ren felt his knees try to buckle. He managed to stay on his feet, just barely, as he drew a hand up over his chest, fingers fisting into his shirt, straining the buttons, because he couldn’t breathe, his eyes were burning from the tears, from the stage lights, his headache was returning, fracturing through so badly. So badly, this was worse than normal, this was….what was this?
It hurt. Hurt, hurt, hurt.
Ren was struggling to breathe, Martyn was still staring at him like he was a monster.
A liar.
“I-It hurts.” He whimpered, and he hoped.
Martyn shook his head, blonde hair tumbling from his shoulders, from his favorite headband. White sweater and bright green puffer vest, his favorite outfit for the descending winter cold.
“Stay away from me!”
He turned and ran. Ren wanted to chase him but his feet were in cement, his head hurt so badly, he wanted to cry, he want to scream, he wanted this to end, this was everything he’d tried to conceal, deny, hide away from.
Somehow, he was able to lurch another step forward, the impact of the step made him shudder, and the sound of the stage door slamming echoed out frightfully loud. He cringed, his ears pressed back flat, tears were hot down his cheeks, this hyper-sensitive jolt crushed his chest, and his eyes flew open.
A garbled half-scream, half-gasp wrenched from his throat as he sat up, blanket pooling down at his waist. He scrabbled a hand around. His room was pitch black, he’d invested early in blackout curtains when he’d moved up here full-time. He was trembling, hands shaking, as he raked his fingers back through his hair, over his ears.
Bad dream.
His mind belatedly provided.
Bad dream. Nightmare. It hadn’t happened. Martyn didn’t know he was a hybrid, Martyn hadn’t called him a liar, Martyn hadn’t heard him say he was hurting and turned his back.
Martyn would never do that.
Would he?
Ren would blame his terrified, half asleep, panicky brain for how he quickly snagged his phone from where it was charging on his side table, swiping it open. His eyes stung from the bright screen, even with the brightness fully turned down in the settings. He called and put it on speaker, considering putting the phone to his ear wasn’t exactly as functional for him as it was for anyone with human ears.
The dial tone sounded twice before the click of a connection establishing ticked through.
“…‘ello?” His boyfriends voice was deep and groggy.
Ren winced, eyes finally finding it a good idea to flick up and check the time.
3:37 AM
Well. Oops.
“…hi. Sorry. Didn’t realize the time.” Ren mumbled.
He heard sheets rustling and a few seconds later, Martyn’s voice came through clearer.
“Hey, no worries. You ok?”
Ren hesitated. “J-Just, ah, just fine, darling.”
“…Ren…you called me at 3 AM because you’re ’just fine?’”
“You’re right, I have no idea how I am. Sorry. I’m sorry.” He carded his hand over his head, pressing one of his ears down. His tail curled up and back lightly, anxiety stilling any excitable motions from hearing Martyn’s voice. A voice he was falling in love with.
“It’s ok…you wanna talk about it?”
“…I dunno. I…it’s stupid.”
“Nothings stupid if it’s upset you.” The voice was comforting. It was the same one he’d hoped for in the nightmare, that had been denied in exchange for spat vitriol.
You lied to me.
“Martyn…I…”
Panic coiled up in his chest. Anxiety burrowed against his heart and made a home there.
“…I had a nightmare.”
“Oh. You have them often?”
“Not…like this. It was weird.”
Martyn hummed, the sound toned warmly. “It scared you, then?”
“…yeah. But I’m an adult, I should’ve calmed down before I just randomly called you. You ought to get your rest.”
More sheets rustling, then Martyn was speaking. “What does being an adult have to do with it? If you’re scared, you ought to do what you need to feel better…I’m happy it seems the first move was calling me.”
“Are you? It is 3 AM.” Ren admitted warily.
“Could be the end of the world, I’d still pick up.”
The dog hybrid felt his heart skip, and a weak chuckle broke from his lips.
“…I thought the dramatic lines were my thing.”
“Hey, we’re both theater kids at heart. I can have my moments.” Martyn replied, and he sounded pleased that Ren had lightened up.
“Do you wanna talk about your dream?”
Ren worried his bottom lip a moment.
I’m hiding something from you.
I’m not what you think I am.
If you find out, will you be angry?
“I…you know I’m…you were in it.”
“Oh.” Martyn paused. “I’m guessing it wasn’t good?”
“No.”
“Gotcha. I’m sorry.”
Ren scoffed. “You don’t need to apologize for something you did in my dreams, that’s outrageous.”
Despite knowing he probably wasn’t going to be falling back asleep, Ren still felt his eyes weighing again. “Listen, you need your sleepage, I’ll be fine.”
“Nuh-uh. You’re upset, Ren, I hear it in your voice. What’s up?” Martyn pressed, and Ren supposed it was probably the 3 AM brain speaking when he blurted out. “If I tell you something, will you be angry with me?”
A moment passed.
“What?” Martyn was confused.
Ren winced. “No, no, forget I said anything, that was…”
“No, I don’t think I’ll be forgetting anything. What do you mean? Tell me what?”
That I’ve always had to lie to you.
Ren stomach twisted. “I-I…you already know I’m not…it’s…I would never hurt you. In my nightmare you…you seemed to think I would.”
“Of course…is this about some skeleton in the closet?”
That’s the understatement of the century.
Ren considered dully, in an echo behind sleep-addled thoughts whizzing back and forth uselessly, some of them asking him to admit the secret here and now.
I’m from the under-city. I’m a dog hybrid, I’m not human, I’m hiding it to live up here, to see the sky day in and day out. It’s nothing against you. It’s everything about you. I can’t lose you. I love you.
It was too much.
Tears pricked behind his eyes.
“Ren…would you like me to come over?”
The dog hybrid jumped, head shooting up straight, tail beating back against his mattress once. “C-Come over?”
“I dunno…if this would be easier for you in person.”
No, actually. It would be the opposite of easier.
Yet Ren so badly wanted to say yes. He wanted to have Martyn come over. Show him the truth, feel his arms around him, hear him whisper sweetly that it was all going to be ok.
This wouldn’t break them.
Would it?
“I-I…appreciate that. Truly. I wish it would be easier. I-I just…don’t think it would be.”
“That’s just fine, too. I wanted to put it out there. Let me know if you change your mind, yeah?”
“…I will.”
It was silence over the speaker for a few long seconds.
Ren squeezed his eyes shut, and a few hot streaks rushed down his face, rolling from his chin. “Thank you. Thank you so much for offering.”
“Anytime.”
“…skeletons, you said?”
“Turn of phrase, isn’t it?”
“I’ve got a lot. I’ve got a lot of them, Martyn. Some worse than others.”
Ren wasn’t sure how saying something like that was supposed to help. A few more tears squeezed out, and the points of his ears pulled down to mirror his distress. In the pitch dark and quiet, with only the distant occasional rush of a car going by, the rattle of the ice machine from the kitchen, and Martyn’s breath over the speaker. Ren heard it all. Sometimes he wished he didn’t. It would be far easier, he considered once in a while, if he’d been born human.
But where was the fun in that?
“I figured. So do I. Not trying to have a trauma contest here, by the way…but you know I’ve had my issues. There’s some of them…that make me think…”
Ren heard a fwhump of fabric and guessed Martyn had laid back in bed again, head hitting the pillow. His boyfriend was hesitating a moment, and when he spoke again Ren made out a sticking in his voice.
“…there’s things in my past that would make you hate me.”
The dog hybrids shoulders rose up, realizing Martyn was getting emotional, his tail immediately beat back and forth.
“What? Never!” He was quick to flip to reassuring. Ren was awkward with accepting such comfort, but he would always be there to offer it, and especially so when it came to Martyn.
“I’ve majorly screwed up lots of other things, though.” Martyn mumbled the words, like he was embarrassed to admit it.
Ren huffed. “So what? We’ve all made mistakes, so have I.”
The lying. Was it lying? Ren figured it was enough withholding of the truth to count for a lie. He was hiding it all behind so many layers. Whatever Martyn was talking about, it couldn’t compare. Ren could accept him for any of his faults, considering the person he’d known these past months, always so patient and kind, was all he’d never known he needed.
“But you don’t know what it is. What I’ve done. You can’t promise me anything.” Martyn spat the words like he needed to clear them from his tongue, like he was growing upset the further conversation dragged on. Ren’s anxiety completely flipped, all of it laying upon comforting the blonde on the other end of the line. “Just watch me!” He exclaimed, flooded with the bravado he usually carried with him in spades.
“I could never hate you, Martyn. Believe that. It’s the truth.”
Instead of further self-deprecating remarks, Ren recognized a sly hum from Martyn. “And I feel the same way about you, Ren. Believe that, would you?”
Ren belatedly realized he’d been led into a trap.
“…hey. That’s cheating.”
Martyn snorted weakly, any hint of his previous dissatisfaction with himself was gone. “Showbiz, sweetheart, almost like you’re dating an actor.”
“I’ve been duped.”
“Eh, only halfsies. I mean, everything I said is true. I’d never lie…but there’s plenty of things I’m not telling. And that’s ok with you, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then give yourself the same breathing room, Ren. I know there’s some…some things going on with you that you aren’t ready to talk about yet. That’s ok. I understand. And I just want you to know…whatever it is…I would never be angry at you over it. I might not know every single detail about you, but I know you. I know you’re kind, and passionate, and far to responsible for your own good. You always take it on yourself to fix everyone’s problems…it’s admirable…but it’s no excuse to ignore your own issues. I’m a hypocrite for saying it, but I don’t care. I’m in no rush. But I want you to know…if you ever decide to tell me…about whatever it is…I’ll be here. It’s like I said before…I’m not afraid of difficult moments. I can promise you that.”
Ren drew several deep breaths. His eyes fluttered closed easily, and a few more tears cut their way over his cheeks, but it wasn’t with pain, with a struggle to withhold them.
“When.” He said quietly, but firmly.
“When?” Martyn repeated back.
“When I tell you.” Ren raked his hand over his head again, pinning down one of the tall dog ears there, and then flopped backward, resting his head on his pillow again, tail splaying out to one side.
“…because I will. I promise. Just give me a little longer.”
Martyn seemed hesitant on this, or so Ren would guess without being able to see him, before he sighed. “Alright. Like I said…I’m in no rush. Whatever you need.”
“And I’m the same. If you ever need to talk…I’m not afraid, either.”
Martyn hummed quietly, and yet it sounded very pleased.
A few seconds later, he spoke again. “So? You feel better?”
“Tremendously.”
“What is it with you and the big words?”
“A robust vocabulary befits a Shakespearean, doesn’t it?”
“Jeez, you are such a nerd.”
“Pot meet kettle.”
Martyn giggled, the sound toning high, and Ren fell in love a little further.
“…d’ya wanna stay on the phone?”
“Hm. Don’t wanna keep you up, though.”
“If I fall asleep, I fall asleep. Tell me about the players this semester.”
“You know them all.”
“Tell me about the players from last semester.”
Ren chuckled, rolling onto his side and setting the phone down beside his pillow, still set to speaker. The charging cable trailing off to connect into the wall. He reached down and pulled his blanket back up over himself, nearly to his chin, and all the while he left his eyes shut.
“…well, they were a boisterous bunch. During the closing performance of their second play, it was a debacle and a half, y’see, because…”
Ren launched into a story at nearly 4 AM. Martyn fell asleep again after awhile, and Ren could faintly hear his breathing, the quiet of the night like a bubble that insulated the moment from hurt.
When I tell him. Because I will.
Ren was drifting. His dreams would be sweeter, of a day when he’d have nothing left to hide. It would happen. It would come.
He wasn’t brave enough yet. But he would be.
One day.