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Ryan has this recurring dream. More of a nightmare, really, except for a singular moment of pure happiness. He doesn't like that kind of happiness - fleeting and unexpected. He’d prefer a constant stream of misery, honestly.
He doesn’t like the dream either. He didn’t like it on the sleepless nights after the breakup and he sure as hell doesn’t like it now, when he and Brendon are finally on speaking terms again.
After the breakup, they don’t see each other for a while.
Should he call it a breakup? Is it a breakup? Panic still exists. It’s just different now. A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet. But what if you ripped the rose apart, letting the wind catch one jagged half to float eternally while planting the other?
Ryan always wonders about what happens after the wind gets tired of his half and throws it back.
He can’t help but think the edges wouldn’t fit together anymore.
It starts like this; they are walking through a desert, during the time of the summer where the sun and the moon almost overlap. Close, almost touching, but not quite. Every now and then, Brendon points at the sky and whispers to Ryan that they’ll meet soon enough. Ryan wants to believe him, so he does.
This world is simpler.
Brendon is carrying something on his back, something Ryan can’t quite make out. Even with the generous glow of the moon (or, if he’s lucky, the sun), Brendon isn’t completely visible. Ryan can’t even tell if he’s smiling or not.
But he can tell that Brendon is struggling. Whatever he’s carrying, it’s too heavy. He tries to help Brendon, but Brendon only places the softest of kisses on him before vanishing.
The first time Ryan sees Brendon, Brendon doesn’t see him.
It’s a nice restaurant. A romantic restaurant, even. He’s there with Alex and Brie, who insisted he finally spend time with real, live people. If Brendon were there, he would have laughed and said Dottie was Ryan’s baby and therefore, a person.
But Brendon wasn’t there. He’s here. With a man.
They are huddled over their menus. The man - who, in Ryan’s very objective opinion, is not at all deserving of Brendon - leans over to touch Brendon. Brendon flinches.
Ryan hates himself for being so relieved.
He wakes up from the dream that night, flooded with guilt. He’s always flooded with guilt lately. That’s nothing new.
What’s new is how he calls Brendon.
He’s thought of it before, he always thinks of it. Especially as night, his fingers ghosting over his phone. He rehearses what he would say in the shower. But when it comes down to it, he’s never brave enough to press call.
Brendon answers, his voice weary and heavy. Like he’s weighed down.
Ryan takes a deep breath and talks.
The next time they see each other, it’s a carefully arranged accident. They’ve been texting. Infrequently, but it’s something. Brendon mentions something about loving Target now.
It’s not at all creepy that Ryan spends two hours at the Target by Brendon’s house every day. He likes Target, okay. And if it is creepy, it’s all on that strange dream and the lack of sleep and maybe a little bit of heartache.
Ryan bumps into Brendon carefully. He’s prepared to feign surprise but he doesn’t have to when Brendon actually smiles.
When Brendon is about to leave, he hesitates before giving Ryan a small hug. Ryan’s heart jumps in his chest.
It stills when they pull apart and Ryan sees how tired and weighed down Brendon looks.
Ryan calls a lot at night. They talk until Brendon falls asleep.
Brendon’s voice is always heavy and tinged with something inexplicable. Ryan tries to help - he tries to be the person he wasn’t before.
Brendon stops vanishing in Ryan’s dreams. He’s struggling still, but solid.
The kiss melts into Ryan’s mornings.
They meet for coffee. Brendon is lighter, more well-rested.
Ryan doesn’t think twice before leaning over to kiss Brendon. It’s better than in his dreams. This time, when he pulls away, Brendon looks like he could fly.
“Brendon, you do not need this much stuff.”
Brendon rolls his eyes. “Uh, yes, I do.”
Ryan reads off the boxes. “Brendon, I have plates! Why would we need two sets of plates?”
Brendon scowls. “Because yours suck.”
Ryan sticks his tongue out before struggling to pick up a box marked DISNEY DVDS. Brendon smiles and walks over to him.
“Let me help you with that.”
