Work Text:
The sun was already beaming its first rays of light when his taxi dropped him a few blocks away from his actual address, claiming not wanting to go further on the dangerous neighborhood. Ezreal then proceeded to drag his three bags through miles of bumps and cracks on the asphalt all the while fearing being robbed or assaulted.
After finally getting to his building in one piece, the blonde then had to pull all of his baggage through five flights of stairs, because of-fucking-course that damn elevator was out of order.
It had been at least five years since Ezreal left that town to study abroad, having a mostly empty - and very dusty - cheap loft as some kind of deposit for what his parents left him before parting for a vacation trip they would never come back from.
Ezreal sniffled as he tried to find the proper keys to open the door in front of him, tears of frustration clouding his already tired eyes.
His skin felt dry and his airways burned from spending too long inside the freezing airplane, all summing up to the meltdown that boiled inside him, numbing his senses until all he could focus on was the overwhelmingly annoying tingling of the keys in his hands.
“I want to go home.”
Ezreal muttered shakily, knowing all too well that no place felt like “Home” for at least twelve years now.
Not since his parents passed, and his best friend Lux moved schools right after.
Not since he and Ekko broke up right before his exchange program, agreeing it would be for the best.
Not since his uncle could barely look him in the eyes without being reminded of the sister he’d lost.
As more warm tears tingled his skin, Ezreal stopped for a moment to breathe in deeply, knowing he couldn’t continue trying to search for the right key during what felt like a full-blown panic attack.
Each tear streaming down his flushed cheeks was fueled by the exhaustion that threatened to shut him down right there and then, bubbling up his throat and burning the back of his scalp.
Suddenly, the door next to his swung open and - with a hand covering his mouth to muffle a loud yawn - a man stepped out of his own apartment, most likely heading for his day job.
With sun kissed skin and a muscular shape, the neighbor wore a loose tank top that showed most of his torso, along with baggy jeans. His dark hair was mostly wrapped in a messy bun, leaving part of his neck and nape free for the cold morning air to tickle against.
As soon as Ezreal realized he was no longer alone in the main hall - all disheveled and hyperventilating - he felt like vomiting his own heart and watching it squirm around like a fish out of water. Instead, he let the keys fall to the ‘welcome’ mat on the floor, along with his phone and wallet.
“ Fuck… ”
The blonde muttered.
The man behind him watched his struggle for a few seconds before leaning in to grab Ezreal’s wallet, though stopping as their hands almost met mid-action.
“You just moved in?”
He asked with a lazy - and quite flirty - smile. Their gazes met, and his light brown eyes softened as he noticed the tears that streamed down Ezreal’s flushed cheeks.
“Shit, ‘you alright, blondie?”
Ezreal quickly retrieved his belongings, standing up and finally managing to unlock the door.
“Sorry. Sorry . I should go.”
He scrambled to get his bags inside the apartment before banging the door closed and falling to the floor with his hands on his face, still as breathless as before.
“Alone again.”
Ezreal took a deep breath in and exhaled through his mouth. The apartment was dark, his surroundings barely brightened by the morning light that came in between the gaps of ragged beige curtains.
The wooden floor was covered by a slight layer of dirt, and little dust bunnies scattered around danced whenever wind blew from a thin crevice below the front door.
Dust particles also flew through the air, illuminated by the golden dawn and giving the impression that Ezreal entered somewhere he didn’t belong to - A time capsule, a small bubble where all his parents' possessions were treasured and safe inside boxes upon boxes, where the sun always seemed just about to go up, but never actually managed to shine its full form.
It felt warm, though bittersweet.
It felt like stepping inside someone else’s memories, knowing you shouldn’t be peeking around, and staying either way.
It felt like home, but it didn’t.
Like he could almost hear his mother’s voice lulling him to sleep, always coming from another room, no matter how fast he ran through the apartment in her pursuit.
Ezreal hugged his legs close to his chest, bumping his forehead to his knees and sighing, his breathing still short and shaky.
After laying on the bed he would have to get used to calling his own - using his backpack as a pillow - Ezreal took a nap with his shoes still on, curled up on top of the layers of dust that made sure he’d spend weeks sniffing, coughing and sneezing around.
The dreamless sleep that embraced him for those few hours felt like a blessing, compared to the usual nightmares that his brain seemed to enjoy creating when he needed rest the most.
After a cup of coffee bought in the nearest convenience store, Ezreal started the process of cleaning his apartment, leaving every window open as well as the front door, so the air would circulate freely and hopefully take some of the dust with it.
Dusk had already fallen upon the city skylines when the neighbor next door came back from work, looking as disheveled and sleepy as earlier.
The man took a peek inside Ezreal’s apartment, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. Ezreal sat on top of a few boxes, his blonde hair held back by a bandana, sipping on a juice box with a slight frown as he scrolled through his phone while allowing himself to take a break from all the scrubbing, dusting and overall organizing what he could without unboxing his parents’ belongings.
He looked up, finding Kayn’s gaze with a surprised expression. Kayn, in turn, lifted his hands dramatically, knowing he had been caught staring.
“I come in peace.” The raven smiled awkwardly, afraid of having the door shut on his face again. “I’m Kayn. ‘You need some help with these?”
Ezreal jumped off the box pile, quickly making his way to the entrance of his apartment.
“Sorry about this morning.”
Was the first thing he said, looking up at Kayn with big doe eyes and a slight pout. Though the sudden approach and the genuine embarrassment Ezreal expressed took Kayn by surprise, he dismissed the apology with a nonchalant smile, shrugging.
“It’s alright, blondie. Moving can be stressful.”
Ezreal offered him a tired smile, fidgeting with the juice box he still held.
“Ezreal. Lymere.”
He said shyly. Kayn lifted his eyebrows, a charming smile on his lips as he shook Ezreal’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, Ezreal Lymere .”
And so it began.
That day, Kayn helped carrying some of the heavier boxes to the office Ezreal had decided to use as a storage - for all the memories he still lacked the courage to unpack.
They then ordered some take-out, Ezreal’s treat, as a ‘thank you’ for all the trouble.
Ezreal ate dumplings while sitting on one of his bags, next to the couch that was still covered by a protective sheet to spare it from the dust. Kayn sat on the recently polished wooden floor, legs crossed, eating his noodles straight from the box.
Kayn swore to come back the next day and help with the clogged kitchen sink, a few burnt bulbs on the main hallway, and a stuck window on Ezreal’s bedroom.
And he did. Ezreal promised him a refreshing jar of pink lemonade, once he actually had any fresh groceries.
When Ezreal decided to repaint all of the apartment’s walls to lighter colors, Kayn was also there, helping to reach the taller spots and chatting away as they worked together to make that space Ezreal’s.
Kayn talked about his various odd jobs, his dream of being an indie-rock star, and his cat named Rhaast.
Ezreal explained his history major, the four year long trip he took overseas, and his desire to meet said cat.
Kayn told him about the upstairs neighbor, and his uncanny obsession with 80’s unsolved murder cases. Ezreal learned to stay away from that guy in particular.
They went out for dinner after a whole day trying to figure out how to plan and plant the tiny garden Ezreal so wanted for his balcony.
They gossiped about the sapphic couple living on the second floor, apartment 2C, and also the nice old lady that offered Ezreal caramels whenever they met.
Kayn said he never got any candy, though he did receive a noise complaint signed with a death threat.
He talked about growing up in an orphanage, and being adopted as a teen.
Ezreal told him about his parents, and his uncle.
He had a bit too much to drink, and also talked about Lux.
And Ekko. And the one pet hamster from his childhood he never forgot.
Both argued on who would pay the bill.
They shared, but Ezreal sneaked twenty dollars on Kayn’s back pocket once they hugged goodbye.
Kayn offered a trip to the nearest rescued animal shelter, and Ezreal accepted. They adopted Jarro, an orange cat, on a Sunday.
Kayn’s evening and early morning guitar practices never bothered Ezreal. One might say he even enjoyed listening to his neighbor’s music while preparing his dinner, taking a shower and getting into bed.
Once already in the dark, he banged onto the wall of his bedroom, and Kayn would know to turn the volume down. Ezreal appreciated the effort, though he could still hear the strumming - only paused to write down lyrics - as it lulled him to sleep.
They grew closer, to the point that Kayn would feel comfortable asking to take a quick shower in Ezreal's apartment, due to his being broken.
To the point that they usually left their doors unlocked - and a spare key under the welcome mat - just in case the other felt the need to barge in with new unhinged plans for their frequent weekend dates.
To the point that Ezreal finally considered that, somehow, he had been gifted someone who was present, helpful and tender. Someone who cared , who was just a knock away at all times, and didn’t mind all of the baggage Ezreal still hid in the locked office next to his room.
Everything came to a bitter turn on a seemingly usual Friday night, Jarro’s three month adoption anniversary.
Ezreal considered knocking on Kayn’s door as soon as he heard the banging of pots and pans that meant the man was back from his late shift, preparing dinner for himself - and Ezreal, in case he decided to join.
The blonde stood on his balcony, watering the plants Kayn helped to care for, on a makeshift seedbed he built, while waiting for him to walk down the street, still in his uniform, hair disheveled and smelling of sweat after a long day of at least three different jobs.
Ezreal definitely felt like a househusband, sighing and daydreaming domestic scenarios where both lived the perfect cookie-cutter life, sharing only one apartment, two cats and a little too much trauma.
He could even learn how to cook more than popcorn and instant noodles, if that meant he’d get to help Kayn find his wallet and keys while jumping around the living room with only one shoe on, his hair damp and his shirt backwards, late for work.
Ezreal loved the idea of handing Kayn a paper bag with a homemade meal so he wouldn’t go hungry while out.
He wanted to kiss Kayn goodbye, wish him a good morning. He wanted to inhale the cologne on his neck when it was still fresh, and after that too, when Kayn smelled like sweat, and smoke, and home, and dancing in a dark kitchen with the microwave serving as a spotlight.
Ezreal blinked a few times, waking up to realize he had been drowning a poor mint bush for a solid minute.
“Damn it…!”
He muttered, setting the watering can aside as the sound of the building’s elevator doors called his attention.
Screw the plants, he had more important matters to attend to.
Ezreal scattered his way to his front door, opening it with a bright smile only to find Kayn coming out of his own apartment - still in his uniform, hair disheveled and smelling of sweat after a long day of at least three different jobs - wallet in hand and a girl clinging to his arm like a damn koala.
“Ah. Hey, Ez.”
The raven smiled awkwardly, waving his wallet as he guided the way back to the elevator, that was still waiting on the same floor.
Ezreal’s tongue felt rubbery and dry when his gaze met Kayn’s, who held the door open. The blonde didn’t reply, feeling like he might throw up on those ugly neon-pink shoes Kayn’s date wore if he dared to open his mouth.
What was he thinking, letting himself get so vulnerable once again, to someone who could easily replace him. Replaceable, that’s what he was.
A replaceable friend, a replaceable boyfriend, a replaceable neighbor. A replaceable son, too.
“I, uhm … I overslept and forgot my wallet this morning, so we, uhm . Anyway . See ya tomorrow.”
Kayn explained as he pressed a few buttons, hoping the elevator’s doors would close faster. He knew what he was doing. He knew it hurt.
He could see it, deep in the blue of Ezreal’s irises.
And just like that, he was gone.
Quiet and slowly, Ezreal knelt down.
He reached under the front door’s carpet - with “MEOW! This house belongs to my cat!” written on it - and grabbed the spare key to his apartment.
He got back inside, locked the door, and went back to the balcony.
Ezreal watched as Kayn and his date walked down the avenue. Kayn looked over his shoulder, meeting the blonde’s gaze for a second before averting his eyes.
Through fogged glasses, Ezreal tried to save his overwatered garden, though only ending up drowning it further with the tears that streamed down his cheeks.
“I want to go home.”
Ezreal muttered shakily to his plants, knowing all too well that no place felt like “Home” for at least… Five minutes, now. All over again, just like the night he first moved in.
Not since his parents passed, and his best friend Lux moved schools right after.
Not since he and Ekko broke up right before his exchange program, agreeing it would be for the best.
Not since his uncle could barely look him in the eyes without being reminded of the sister he’d lost.
Not since his already shattered heart had been picked up piece by piece, glued and sewed together with care and then mercilessly stepped on.