Archive of Our Own

Ryland was full of love, right from the start. He doubts anyone is truly devoid of love as there are so many kinds. He loves his parents, his friends. He loves the colour of the sky just before the sun sets in winter. He loves the green grass and the smell after rain. He loves his neighbour's grumpy old man of a cat who lets Ryland scratch behind his ears on good days.

He loved everyone who was anyone in his life. Even if they were only around for a little while. He loved his best friend Jacob because he was fun to be around. He loved his language arts teacher Mrs. Ferris because she was a good teacher. He loved and loved and loved.

He loved to the point it was no surprise he had crushes. Mostly it was on Molly Jenkins who sat just in front of him. And anyone should like her. She was a very easy person to love.

She was so cool. She could skateboard and brought it with her every day and even tried to teach Ryland how to properly skate during recesses. He was never very good and always fell but she was kind enough not to laugh at him. She even held his hands to assist his poor balance.

She let him ramble on about whatever science book he was reading even though she didn’t really like the subject. In turn, he would listen to her talk about that dragon book she liked even though it was scientifically very improbable for them to ever exist. Then, they would watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer until Ryland had to go home.

Her parents never let him stay the night and he never understood why. They weren’t particularly strict but maybe they didn’t want them staying up all night talking too loud. It was reasonable, he and Molly could get loud when they were excited.

So, when Jacob asked him about his crush it was obvious who it was. He didn’t even think about it.

“Molly Jenkins,” he replied, watching his friend laugh loudly.

“Her? But she’s a nerd!”

“I’m a nerd,” he argues, finishing with the crown of dandelions he was making while Jacob kicked a soccer ball into the goal post.

“Yeah but you’re a cool nerd who likes Star Wars,” Jacob laughs again. “Molly Jenkins likes, like, animu or whatever it’s called.”

“It’s anime,” his cheeks warm and he doesn’t want to admit he also liked Sailor Moon, Molly’s favourite show. He even went to her house to watch with her a few times. Her older sister owned the box set and they often snuck it off to watch in the living room. “And it’s cool.”

“Okay, then ask her to be your girlfriend why dontcha?” Jacob kicks the ball again and it flies over their heads at top speeds. Up into the great baby blue sky before plummeting to earth again and bouncing a few times.

He stands up and grips the crown harder in his hands. “Okay I will!” he declares, loud enough the entire playground must have heard him, beginning to stomp off in the direction of Molly Jenkins who is doing cool tricks with a yo-yo.

His heart races in his chest with nerves. The fear of approaching her with actual intent. Intent to tell her his real genuine feelings.

She spots his approach soon enough and smiles, waving to him. Surely the butterflies in his stomach are from love. That’s what it was supposed to feel like if tv shows were to be believed. Maybe, just a little scared as well. He was nervouscited.

“Hey Ry!” she calls out to him as he holds his crown in his hands tighter. He must be crushing the flowers with how hard he’s holding them. He hadn’t even noticed he was still holding them until now. “Check this out.” She tosses the yo-yo around a bit before it lands in her hand and creates a double helix with the string. She looks at him with a grin.

“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” he blurts out, feeling a little faint and he’s sure his face is as red as her yo-yo.

She pauses and looks at him for a moment in contemplation as she returns her yo-yo to normal and holds it in her hand. The smile returns before long. “Sure, why not?”

He nods and holds out the crown he made in offering, like that would make it official. She laughs and ducks down so he can place it on her head.

Jacob has to do a double take when Ryland begins to parade around the yard with Molly’s hand in his. The entire fourth grade is talking about them by the end of the day. Then the day after.

They lasted around two weeks before declaring they were just friends again. Doing the same things they always did.

High school was admittedly a lot easier on Ryland than his primary education. At least in terms of schooling. He was acing all his classes and was on his way to valedictorian or at least salutatorian; his parents were very proud and his teachers loved him.

His social life wasn’t miserable, at least not as bad as it had been once. He had a group he talked to semi-frequently. He didn’t feel particularly close with any of them, though, more a need for friends to survive the years. Proximity, not actual closeness.

The major difference was how his peers were acting. Suddenly everything in life was either about relationships or sex or parties; none of which particularly interested Ryland.

Supposedly, if the rumours were to be believed, Rachel Ang was pregnant because she and Troy Barker were having sex. Unprotected sex. Which was entirely strange, because Ryland shared a class with Rachel in health and they for sure discussed the importance of protected sex. Especially with Troy Barker who apparently had sex with almost every girl in the school, according to rumours at least. Didn’t she care about the possible STDs he had?

It got stranger when Rachel was determined to go to term with it. Was she really going to throw away her education for this? It was a bit ridiculous. To him at least. Especially when it took over classes the way it did. Apparently, she was skipping more and more each day. Especially when rumours flooded the halls and seeped into the classrooms.

It was partially his fault for sitting with the sports kids since he knew they always talked all class long no matter what happened. He just wanted a quiet place to finish homework since his chemistry teacher gave the majority of class time towards that very topic.

“Dude she’s such a slut,” Brandon whispered to Jake and the whole table burst into quiet laughter that surely caught the teacher's attention. It wasn’t even funny. There was no joke attached to it, just a statement. A rude one at that.

“You shouldn’t call her that,” he says almost instinctively, adjusting his glasses and tucking his face closer to his work. As if that could shield him from the scrutiny about to follow.

The entire table goes quiet and he swallows. “Why not, pretty boy, you got a crush on her?”

He scoffs and lifts his face to look at Brandon again. “No, why would I? I barely know her.” His crushes only seemed to happen once he met the person properly. Once he spoke at least once to them.

“Uh, ‘cause she’s hot?”

Really? Was that all that constituted a crush to these idiots? How attractive they found someone? Ryland always considered a crush to be more of wanting to get to know them. Wanting to spend time together, getting to know them. Stuff like that.

“She’s pretty I guess,” he shrugs as he says this, turning his gaze back to his work in hopes they might drop it.

“Alright then, asshole, who’s hotter?”

Plenty of people. Everyone was beautiful to Ryland. He thought everyone was pretty in one way or another: in their smile or the way they walked or the bags under their eyes.

He scans the room. There were plenty of pretty people to look at. However there was one he had an eye on for a while.

“Tazin.” Ryland nods over to where she sat, back to them. Her black leather trench coat hangs low off the chair. Her braids fall over it and make little tapping sounds as the steel beads clink together. He clears his throat. “Tazin Belcourt is pretty.”

Pretty was a bit of an understatement, even to Ryland. She was stunning. Her makeup always looked so cool and Ryland had been crushing on her for a while now. He wanted to get to know her, maybe ask about what sort of music she liked. He wanted to hold her hand. He wanted to go to horror movies with her even though they always scared him because he knew she enjoyed them and wanted to understand why.

“Ohhh, loverboys got a crush on the local fag.” Just then, the bell rings and it’s the end of the day. Everyone begins to pack up and Tazin stays behind a touch longer than most. “Bet you won’t even talk to her.” Brandon laughs as he stands, shoving his friends around.

“Of course I will,” he retorts, packing up his things hurriedly. He hesitates but can’t get the taste out of his mouth from that word. “And, don’t call her that.”

He turns, adjusting the bag over his shoulder as he walks across to the table Tazin is calmly packing up at. Brandon stares at him as he does this and he nervously pushes his glasses up his face as he approaches her. “Loverboy,” he mouths at Ryland, shoving a finger into a hole he makes with his other hand. He quickly turns back to Tazin.

“Uh, hey Tazin.” She whips her head around to him with her deep dark eyes. Her braids clink together as she pulls her messenger bag over her shoulder. Again the butterflies return. What was he supposed to do here? Declare his love? Ask her to be his girlfriend? “Can we talk?” He asks, simple and easy. He could pass it off as needing to talk about anything if she agreed. No one needed to know about his stupid bet.

She glances behind him where the table of jocks is and glares. She takes his hand and begins to tug him away wordlessly. There is the loud sound of hoots and hollers following them as they walk away.

He’s taken aback by how pleasantly warm her brown hand is. Her skin is a bit rough but more in the work way than just dry skin. He could hold it forever and never get tired.

Maybe he did have a bit of a crush.

She stops them at the back of the school and folds her arms over her chest.

“What do you want? Your little friends put you up to this?” She practically spits the words like their poison. Ryland quickly raises his hands and waves them around to dissuade that thought.

“No! God no… Well, sort of. They’re not my friends but uh, they convinced me to talk to you.” He hunches over a bit and averts his gaze, feeling a little shy. “Uh, I sorta have a crush on you and they dared me to talk to you.” He looks back at her and smiles, shyly.

Tazin blinks a few times and then snorts suddenly. “Okay, so, that’s not gonna happen because I am for sure a lesbian. Sorry, but it’s a no.” She shrugs once.

“Oh,” he said because he really couldn’t think of anything else to say. He didn’t really care about that. He was just here on a dare of all things. Tazin could kiss whoever she wanted for all he cared. He didn’t mind but she seemed really cool. He still wanted to spend time together, even if not as girlfriend and boyfriend. He was actually rather happy about being rejected. “Okay, uh, friends then?”

“Seriously?” She asks him, looking incredulously at him. He nods frantically. He would want nothing else than to be her friend. He was more afraid she would say no to his new offer than he was about getting rejected romantically. She snorts out a laugh at his desperation. “Alright, fine.” Tazin holds out her hand and he takes it eagerly, sealing the deal. She grins. “Can we lie and say we’re dating though? It will be so funny to see their faces tomorrow.”

“That’s fine with me,” he says.

She’s right, everyone's face when they see Tazin and him holding hands is very worth their little scheme. She even playfully kisses his cheek to really sell it and he almost melts into the touch. He’d never had a friend more touchy feely than her and he relishes in it.

He and Tazin end up “dating” for the rest of high school. Which, admittedly, is not long. Two years wasn’t a lot in the grand scheme of things. They’re best friends by the end.

She stays with him even when his parents die in his last year when he has no one else to support him. Freshly eighteen and nowhere to go, Tazin opens her house up to him and her parents are more than understanding of his situation. She goes to the funeral and her hand in his makes him feel a little braver. She helps him stay on top of homework in the sea of grief. When he doesn’t stop crying for hours at a time she makes sure he eats something.

It doesn’t erase the fact he lost his only remaining family because of a single night and bad road conditions, but it reminds him he was not alone. Not entirely. She was there for him no matter what came. He wanted her there, always.

Mr. and Mrs. Belcourt were kind to him as well. Giving him the spare room in the basement to technically rent though they kept it low enough he was barely paying anything. They didn’t mind his presence during dinner or how close he and Tazin were, even if he often snuck into Tazin’s room to sleep with her. She was always welcoming to him. She didn’t even mind sharing a bed even when he snored all night. Or when he kicked her awake.

He is still on the track to graduate in time, despite the setback of his parents passing. The school was very understanding. If it weren’t for their deaths he would have been their valedictorian so they know he could graduate, even if his grades took a hit.

Tazin cheers the loudest for him when he walks across the stage during convocation, the dedication he made to his parents being read by his favourite biology teacher. For a moment, he is tempted to look into the crowd and wave to ghosts he knows are not there.

When he tosses his hat he begins to cry.

“Where are you going to uni?” Tazin asks him one night as she paints his nails for him. Their graduate prom was tomorrow and he needed to match her black dress somehow with the yellow tux he got. She was going to wear a yellow rose on her wrist to match him. “I was thinking Harvard for law,” she mumbles as she gets between his skin and nail to diligently place some polish there.

“I don’t know yet. Maybe Columbia?” She blows on his nails and he feels a little tingly when she does. He hadn’t given it much thought; maybe he should also go to Harvard. It was too late for application but he could take a gap year. He would go wherever Tazin was. “Or Harvard, I’m not sure yet.”

“With your grades you could go anywhere.” She tucks the nail polish away properly as she says this. He holds his hands still, waiting for her to come back and blow them dry as she had instructed him earlier. They didn’t want them to smudge during the most important night of their shared lives.

And she wasn't wrong exactly. She was, in fact, right. So far, all his applications had been accepted and now he had to choose between five different universities, all highly regarded.

But, Harvard sounded nice if that’s where Tazin was going. He wanted to spend the rest of his life by her side. He wanted to be bestfriends with her no matter where her life took her. He wanted to be a part of her life forever.

He tells her as much when she begins to blow his nails dry. “I want to go with you, though.” She glances up at him before returning to her task.

“Hey, I appreciate you being my ‘boyfriend’ but, don’t you think it’s time we move on from this?” She tilts her head as she asks this, her braids moving away from her face as she does. She smiles faintly as if she didn't just break his heart with the admission. She blows his nails gently and her breath is warm against his hands. “I’m gonna go get a girlfriend and so will you and she’ll love you more than I will.”

That makes him pause. He couldn’t imagine loving someone more than he did Tazin. Even if it was a romantic partner who he would kiss and have sex with. Someone he would marry. No one could compare to her. “What if I don’t love her more than you, though?” Ryland shakes his nails to dry them as much as he can as Tazin walks to her bed. He was being utterly sincere.

“Then you're a little weirdo,” she declares with a smile, tossing a pillow at his head gently and he lets it hit him head on so she will feel bad. “And, I think that’s a great thing to be.”

She’s genuine in her words, but he can’t help but feel a little hurt over them. He liked being her weirdo. How could he be that miles away?

The gym is decked out in banners in all kinds of blues and yellows for their “Dance ‘Til Sunrise” prom. Everyone is dancing by the time Ryland and Tazin enter.

Rachel Ang dances with her son because, evidently, she had very supportive parents who insisted on helping her so she could finish her high school education. Ryland was happy to see her graduating with the rest of her peers. He was happy the rumours didn’t get to her.

That night they danced only with each other. Even for silly, fun songs, meant for friends or groups. Even for slow ones meant for couples.

He realises, halfway through, he does want this forever. Tazin could get a girlfriend and it wouldn’t be cheating because he didn’t mind. He just wanted to spend his life by her side. As a friend. Maybe a little more.

“If it means anything you were the best boyfriend I ever had,” she whispers to him during the slow dance specifically for couples. Some sappy love song he never liked playing on the DJ’s speakers. Her arms wrapped around his neck as they swayed slowly. He never was a good dancer. She looks happy regardless and his heart flutters in his chest. “Probably also the best one I will ever have.”

“Thank you,” he tells her earnestly. He spins the two of them around a bit as the music swells. “Out of all the lesbians I’ve dated you’re by far the coolest.” She laughs as loud as a banshee and interrupts the slow dance instantly. Everyones eyes are on them in an instant. It’s wonderful. He would kill to hear that laugh forever.

Someone may have spiked the punch because he feels a little tingly, a bit buzzed, as they leave early.

Tazin had her truck parked out the front specifically for such a getaway. It’s a hot night and he begins to divest himself of his suit as she drives them down the highway. He rolls up the sleeves of his suit to the crook in his elbow just as she pulls off into a random field far outside the city limits.

“One last night?” She asks him, opening her door and stepping out. He follows suit and quickly rushes out and to the bed of her truck.

They’d done this about a hundred times before. It hurt to think this would be the last.

Above them the stars twinkle and Tazin stares up at them for a long time. Ryland glances, but his focus is on her.

He didn’t want this night to end and her to leave for Harvard. He didn’t want them to be separated, even if it was only four hours away from each other. Any distance felt too far from her. He wanted this night to last forever.

Why did he ever grow up?

“Tazin Belcourt, you were the best friend I think I’ve ever had,” he tells her, beneath the stars that shine on them. She may very well be the best friend he will ever have.

She turns to look at him and grins. “Ryland Grace, you were my best friend.” She holds out a fist and he bumps it with his. Then he grabs her and pulls her into as tight a hug as he can manage.

“I’m really gonna miss you after this,” he whispers to her when she finally holds him in return.

“I know, I will too.”

“I love you,” he tells her as he leans back to look into her eyes, as dark but sparkling as the night sky above.

“Thanks,” she says but doesn’t say it in return.

It hurts the entire time they drive back that night. He keeps his eyes on the stars to stop himself from crying. He never could hold his tears back much. He was always a crybaby.

The ache from that night stays with him until he is packing his bags at the end of August and Mr Belcourt is driving him to the airport so he can begin the next stage in his life entirely alone. Tazin goes to Harvard like she dreamed and he’s shipped off to New York for Columbia.

Decidedly without Tazin by his side.

He met Kelly in his final year of grad school while he’s going to the University of Toronto. Thankfully, it’s after he’s gone through his party lifestyle and mellowed out a little since his bachelor's degree. That part of his life wasn’t one he was too proud of. At least he was here now, though.

He had been in the library when they met, looking for a book that was supposed to have some useful information for his thesis.

It’s not unusual to be in a tight little corner of the Gerstein library with another person beside you. It’s actually a rather common occurrence. He’s had plenty of people try to silently sneak behind him and everyone ends up feeling awkward about it.

“Sorry, could I get by here?” She asks him when he is nose deep in a book on the bacteria that live in the absolute bottom of the ocean. Ryland looks up at her voice and is met with the greenest eyes he’s ever seen. “I just need to look at that book,” she gestures over to the shelf beside him and he awkwardly presses himself against the shelf so she can get by. “Thanks.”

He watches her grab the book out of the corner of his eyes.

“Jellyfish?” He asks, catching a glimpse of the title cover as she flips it open to scan the table of contents. She whirls her head around and smiles at him shyly and brushes her hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, I’m doing a research paper on how different species are impacted by oceanic microbes.” She flips the book around in her hands and laughs awkwardly.

“That’s a great topic,” he tells her because it is a good topic. “Jellyfish are cool.” While not his favourite animal, Ryland did appreciate them for what they were. They were fascinating creatures to study.

She thumbs over the pages of the book as she smiles at him. “Yeah, they’re part of why I wanted to study marine biology.”

“Why study here, then?” He asks. It was a fair question to be asking seeing as Toronto was hardly the place to be if one desired to study jellyfish. Or marine biology in general. “No offence, but there’s really great programs at Hawai’i, or even California.”

“Wanted being the key word here,” she laughs with a shrug. “I kinda got stuck with ecology after trying for a year in my undergrad.”

He could sympathise with that. Originally he wanted to focus on genetics but then other paths opened up to him and offered much better chances at an actual job. Just what happens when you’re actually in university. Things change. “Ah, I’m stuck with microbial biology with a side of theoretical.”

“Really?” She giggles, politely covering her mouth with her hand as he smiles in return. “Why those two?” She asks, seemingly genuinely astonished at the combination.

“Microbial because I think it’s interesting and theoretical to keep me humble.” It’s mostly a joke. Theoretical just gave him an extra path to follow into research. As a bonus it was just interesting enough to keep him engaged in the field. Data research was as boring as it was interesting.

She holds her hand out to him and he takes it quickly, appreciating the warmth of her. “I’m Kelly Clarkson, third year in post-grad.”

“I’m in my final year. Grace. Ryland Grace.”

“Okay James Bond reference,” she laughs and he is so glad she picked up on his joke. It’s been a while, despite the setting he found himself in, to find a good and proper nerd like him. Someone who understood his silly references. Kelly is also very giggly. He swears she’s laughed more times in this conversation than he can count. He calms his racing heart to remind himself of the work he needs to get done.

“Well, uh, be seeing you around, I guess?” He holds up his book to say goodbye and turns towards the exit between the bookshelves and towards the desk so he could check the book out and get home to get writing yet again.

Kelly calls out to him before he can get too far. “Hey, you, uh, wanna go to the movies some time?” She asks, leaning against the bookshelf when he turns to look at her. She’s grinning but clearly trying to hide it.

“Yeah, you have one in mind?”

“There’s a really stupid looking rom-com on Friday at nine?” He doesn’t want to mention that he hates rom-coms because Kelly seems cool to hang out with. He wanted to get to know her properly.

“It’s a date,” he tells her as she blushes a little. He practically skips all the way home, happy to have finally, finally, made a friend. Even if it took until his final year.

At some point he and Kelly start dating properly. He hadn’t even noticed. At some point she moves into his apartment. After that, his relationship with Kelly barely lasts a year. Just until he properly gets his PhD.

He doesn’t even remember what started the fight. He hated fights. He hated the yelling and anger when he couldn’t understand what made them so upset.

Kelly throws her hands to the side as she tosses another shirt into her quickly filling suitcase. “You don’t even kiss me, Ryland! And when you do it’s never on the lips and there’s no love in it!” He did feel bad for that. He really had been trying in that regard. He kissed her cheeks as much as she wanted him to. Ryland just didn’t know how he could make them more loving. He didn’t know what she needed from him and how to give it to her.

“Please, Kelly–!” He stops her from walking back to the closet. He really didn’t want her to leave.

It felt like he was just getting his life in order. He had a paper he was writing, he had a proper job. He had an apartment and a girlfriend. He had everything he needed to function in normal society. He didn’t want it all crashing in on him.

He… Ryland really did love her. Just, clearly not in the way she needed. But, he did love her. Wasn’t that enough? He told her as much as he could. He loved sleeping together and holding her hand and getting to cook dinner for her.

“We’ve never even had sex, Ryland.” His face and eyes burn.

“I’m really sorry, I just… I need some time.” It was a lousy excuse, but it was better than having nothing at all. He would have sex eventually but he… he’d never thought much about it. He could try for her but she would have to lead the way.

She dodges past him and throws a final dress into her already stuffed suitcase. “You need to grow up before we can try this again.” She slams her suitcase closed and forces the zipper into obedience and begins to roll it towards the front door.

“Can we at least remain friends?” He calls out to her, desperate to keep her in his life somehow. He didn’t care if it was selfish. Even if he didn’t love her he still wanted to know her.

She pauses only to pull on her shoes and he doesn’t try to stop her. “Goodbye, Ryland,” Kelly says, turning toward the door and leaving.

That final goodbye makes him resentful for a long time. The anger he carries is enough to lose him his job because every feeling is too big for him to contain. His whole life seems to fall apart over this single failed relationship.

He swore off love from that point on.

“No way man! I am not!” Jackson yells rather loudly as his little friend group continues to laugh loudly. He glances up at them over his glasses from where he sits, grading a few quizzes he would be handing back in a day or two. He and his friends are crowded around his little laptop and roaring with laughter at whatever was on the screen.

“The quiz doesn’t lie bro!” Alex yells back as Jackson begins to pace around the room as the others yell indistinguishable words at him over each other.

Ryland smiles, slowly pulling his glasses off as he stands and walks towards the desk they all sat around.

Their little group came to his classroom often. They said it was the cool kids place to spend lunch. In reality it was likely because the cafeteria was too crowded and loud. He didn’t mind the company while grading papers so he never put up a fuss about it.

“What are you kids doing?” He asks, purely curious as to what would spark that reaction from his students. Jackson was not one to loudly storm off. He wasn’t one to yell even.

“Taking a quiz to see if we’re gay,” Chloe tells him as she turns the laptop towards him. He leans in playfully. It was opened to some Uquiz page with the words How gay are you? at the very top. Self explanatory in that case. “It said I’m asexual, whatever that is?”

Considering you are thirteen I hope you are he thinks to himself because he could never voice that out loud without needing to explain what it meant.

“Jacksons just homophobic,” Alex proclaims rather loud, pointedly looking at his friend.

Jackson flushes a bright pink, either embarrassed or angry. Or maybe both. “I am not! That quiz is just… wrong!”

“Well you know an online quiz isn’t going to be indicative of your actual orientation.” Ryland waves his hands around, trying to stop the impending fight. He really didn’t want to send anyone to the principal's office. “That’s something you just sort of know. You can label yourself however you want but how you feel is most important.”

He’s mostly parroting things he’s heard from his queer friends or acquaintances. He had plenty over his lifetime after Tazin, mostly in university but a few since then as well. Plus, he couldn’t just leave his students in a crisis could he? He wanted them to be comfortable with themselves but also to not worry about labels at the moment.

“You know a lot about this… Are you gay Mr. Grace?” Chloe asks, sounding a bit hesitant.

“No, I like women so I’m straight.” He watches her face fall ever so slightly. “But I’ll always support people who are LGBTQ plus,” he adds hurriedly because he didn’t want her getting the wrong idea. She nods intently while looking right at him.

“Oh, who are you dating then?” Christie pipes up with. Grinning wildly, clearly expecting some big, interesting answer. Spilling the tea, or whatever kids were saying these days. He’d lost track ages ago.

He breathes out a long breath through his teeth and places his hands on his hips, trying to avoid the fact that after Kelly and he broke up he hasn’t dated anyone. He hasn’t even made an effort to. He had once downloaded a dating app, just after his doctorate, but nothing ever came of the grand total of two dates he went on. He barely even made a friend out of those three women and they naturally drifted apart after a week. Online dating just sucked but what else was he going to do? People don’t really meet much in person anymore.

“No one?” He responds after a lengthy pause. “You guys keep me busy enough as it is.” There’s a hint of teasing in his response, but it wasn’t true at all. Ryland had plenty of free time. He just didn’t want to try dating when nothing ever came of it. He’d come to accept he would be alone forever. Besides, focusing on his work was more important to him.

“Laaaaameee!” Christie boos. “You should take this to see if you’re right!” She pushes the laptop towards him as the others goad him on.

Ryland pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment, really considering if they would leave it alone if he didn’t. Considering their chanting he already knows the answer. “Alright, alright, fine.” He grabs the laptop and leans over it. Just fifteen questions, quick and easy. Then he could go back to grading before lunch break was done with.

And it is easy. Because the questions are utterly ridiculous. He could tell this was made in a way to have fun rather than a serious exploration of one's identity.

First it asks him his favourite colour which has no bearing on sexuality, surely. Then it asks him for his favourite Taylor Swift lyrics.

Pick a celestial body? Seriously? How does this tie into sexuality? He hovers the cursor for a bit before settling on Neptune. Or, as he sometimes referred to it, cooler Saturn.

With the final question of ‘what is your favourite animal’ answered he clicks submit.

Then the laptop takes a moment to load and he feels his heart begin to race in his chest. It spits out that he’s heterosexual and he breathes out a sigh which he swears is not relief at the results. “Well, there you have it, the quiz doesn’t lie I guess.”

“Hear that Jackson?” Christie calls out to the boy standing on the other side of the room who flushes a bright pink. He starts to yell back and Ryland silently laughs as he returns to his desk.

He’s faintly satisfied with his results being exactly what he expected.

Apparently, life on a boat does begin to get to someone. Especially when the waves get particularly bad.

Ryland has yet to gain his sea legs, or sea stomach rather, because this is the most nauseous he’s felt in a while. He’d thrown up twice now and had to lay down for an hour. He took medicine and managed a small nap. By now he hasn’t eaten in three hours and should really try even if his appetite betrays him. He manages to pry himself away from his bed enough to curl up under a cardigan and begin to make his way to the cafeteria.

It’s quiet when he enters, relatively few people in there and most have laptops or books propped up on the tables in front of them for the sake of enjoying their free time. This was among the rare communal areas with somewhat decent seating after all.

He grabs a granola bar and serves himself some soup before wandering off to find a seat. His stomach was still roiling with every ebb and flow but he managed a few bites of the soup. He doesn’t even throw up again which may be a good sign.

“Dr. Grace?” Someone asks him and he glances up from his styrofoam bowl to see a young… pilot? Maybe one of the ship people? He’s certainly seen her face before but that’s not saying much when he was the only new face for months. “You, uh, mind if I sit?”

He finally registers the tray in her hands and gestures for her to sit across from him. She smiles and brushes blonde hair from out of her face. Ryland knows he is not going to be able to speak without thinking of throwing up so he doesn’t tempt fate.

“You feeling alright? You look a little faint.”

Ryland swallows the thick feeling in his throat and holds a hand in front of his mouth for a moment. “Yeah,” he replies, a little shaky still. “I, uh, never been on a ship this long.”

She nods slowly and begins to eat her own food. “Yeah. It’s a bit of a learning curve I guess.” He nods in agreement because he didn’t want to point out it’s more of his body needing to adjust. He didn’t have the energy to be snarky like that right now.

“So… you’re like, the top dog here.” He shrugs. He wouldn’t exactly say that. He was just another worker here, just like the woman across from him. He still didn’t know her name and she hasn’t even offered it. He didn’t mind but it was a bit odd. She leans in, conspiratorially. “You ever had sex with Stratt?”

Ryland jolts back almost instantly. A bit horrified that’s what she wanted to ask. She stares at him a while and that roiling feeling in his stomach is back. He rapidly begins to shake his head, trying to catch his breath. He doesn’t even know what to say, truthfully. He is utterly baffled by that thought.

She grins at him, leaning against the arm she rests on the table. “You and Stratt spend so much time together and you’ve seriously never even thought of having sex?” There’s a laugh in her voice as she asks this.

“No,” he chokes out between his nausea. He questions, briefly, why on earth a total stranger feels she needs to know this information so intimately. Did someone really need to know something like that? He certainly never wanted to know that sort of stuff about others. Why all the curiosity? “That’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen if I did.” He glances down and moves his plastic spoon around the bowl but suddenly he’s lost what little appetite he had. He also didn’t have any interest in attracting more attention than he already had.

She leans in more. He backs up into his chair. If he trusted his legs he would stand and run from this interaction. “C’mon Dr. Grace, you have to have someone you love here. There’s no way we’re all cramped together like this and there’s no one.”

He takes a moment to think if there was anyone like that right now. He did have one person in mind. “I’m really good friends with Carl. I wouldn’t mind spending my life with him.”

“Really?” She blinks slowly. “I mean, that’s cool I just didn’t know you were gay.”

He almost chokes on his spit once more. “I’m not?”

She shrugs. “Okay, bi then.”

He was getting increasingly frustrated by the moment. She wasn’t understanding. He glowers at her. “I’m straight.”

That was the truth of the matter. He was straight but just wasn’t too focused on sex or romance. It’s a bit hard for that to be the focus when the world is ending and they’re trying to solve it. Maybe after this he would try dating properly again.

As it stands the only person he thought of like that was Carl who was his best friend here. Stratt was his boss, primarily.

“There’s no way a straight man would want to spend their life with another man,” she counters.

“Of course I can. I just think he’s my best friend.” He curls under his cardigan and tries to breathe through the sick feeling. The crawling under his skin. It tries to climb up his throat and he has to swallow it down again. He shrugs a bit awkwardly. “I dated a lesbian in high school and wanted to spend my life with her, it’s the same thing as that.”

She stares at him astonished for a moment before, raising her eyebrows and looking at the table.

“Okay, whatever you wanna tell yourself.” She laughs and stabs her fork into her food and takes a bite. It’s clear she still doesn’t understand but just wanted to move on from the topic. If she didn’t want to understand, why even bring it up? She didn’t need to ask him about his sex life. They were strangers.

Ryland quietly stands and wordlessly excuses himself. He stumbles his way to the door and all but throws it open. He breathes in the sea air, the only smell he’s known for months now, and stares up at the grey clouds gathered above. It may rain soon. Ryland wishes it wouldn’t; he’s sick enough as it is.

Another wave hits the ship and he thinks about what that woman had said about him and Stratt having sex. He imagines it for a moment, though he has no prior experiences on the subject. He thinks about kissing her, about kissing Carl, and neither seem like good options. He really, really thinks about it.

It was damp, in his imagination. Wet and noisy. It’s nothing like how he’s been told it would be. It’s anything but pleasurable.

Once the ship has settled he leans over the side and throws up once again.

“I won’t, I can’t—” Rylan’s voice catches in his throat as he continues to back away from where she sits behind her desk. She doesn’t look as cold as she normally did. She looks in mourning. For him. Because she was going to kill him. “I’ll ruin you!” He shouts as the door opens to let two guards and a doctor in. “I’ll ruin the mission! I won’t do this!”

“Please—” Eva calls out to him as he throws a chair at one of the guards as a diversion and rushes to the door.

He runs because there is nothing else he can do.

His feet pound against the earth and it’s the fastest he’s run since gym class in high school. He was the slowest runner, even then. They’re going to catch up to him, but he has to try. He wanted to stay. He wanted to be on earth.

His heart blocks out all other noise as he stumbles and picks up the pace. His arms flail wildly.

He wanted to see the sun every day, even as it slowly went dark and cold. He wanted to see the fog. He wanted to live.

The gravel under him turns to grass under him. He wants to lie down in the grass and feel it against his skin as much as he can. He couldn’t do that if they killed him. He wanted to make another flower crown, something he hasn’t done since he was a child. He wanted to hear the birds chirping as he biked to school.

He’s never wanted to live more in his life. He wants to stay. He trusted Eva. He liked her. She was one of the only good friends he had left in this world and she just stabbed him then twisted the knife. But he liked her. He wanted to have gotten to know her better. His ribs ache, lungs burning as he tries to breathe.

Someone tackles him from the side and Ryland slams into the damp grass, the wet dirt, and he loses any breath he had for a firm minute. He chokes for a moment. His entire body aches, his bones thump against his skin like he’s trying to escape his own body.

His glasses are cracked, he can see it where they are skewed from their usual place. It makes his vision double.

Ryland can’t move until he catches his breath and then he’s struggling.

He’d never been in a fight before. He worked out just enough to keep healthy and never had to fight five men while pinned. There’s a hand against his neck keeping his head down as other hands pin the rest of his body to the earth. He normally would savour this touch but now it burns him. He can’t breathe for entirely new reasons as someone sits on his back. He knows he is panicking but can’t think to do anything else.

His vision blurs from tears but Ryland sees the figure approaching on the edge of his vision.

The look on Carl’s face might be regret, but Ryland is too busy squirming and crying to really let it sink in.

Carl was kind to him. He was someone mostly normal in Rylands life. Someone who clearly cared for him. He would help.

Ryland calls out to him and doubles down on his fight.

Please, he didn’t want to go. He still had so much to do here. He needed to return to his students; who else would teach them? He wanted to go back to his horrible apartment and sleep in his own bed again after so long. He wanted to ride his bike in the rain even though he hated it. He wanted to see another fall day. He wanted to see the colours change. He wanted to spend more time with Eva and Carl outside of work and the compound. He wanted to see the Earth get better. He wanted to get coffee with Eva and Carl. He wanted to have friends again.

He’s never wanted anything so much.

He wanted many things at that moment.

Most of all, he wanted to live. Even if it was on a dying planet. And, they were taking that away from him. They were killing him. They were going to shoot him into space and he would die. He couldn’t escape.

“You’ll do great,” Carl tells him. Then there’s a prick at the back of his neck and his body goes still, slowly. They steal the fight from him.

He would sob if his body were still his. But they took that from him. Carl was his best friend here. He loved him and wanted to spend his whole life with him. Here. On Earth.

He would never feel the grass once they pry his hands away from where he clutches at the dirt. He would never get to smell the salt of the ocean. He would never see another sunrise or sunset.

He didn’t even get to see Eva one last time. He hated that they were leaving each other on such bad terms. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to say a proper goodbye. He didn’t want to leave her.

The rainbow in the corner of his vision would be the last weather phenomena he would ever see.

“Hey, Rocky, what’s love feel like to you?” Grace asks his new little alien buddy. The two of them get a lot of time to talk when they’re years out from Erid. They’re moving fast but slow. They need something to fill the time; so, they talk. “Like, you love Adrian romantically, right?” He clarifies because they need to do that a lot in their conversations. They’d already talked about romance. They’d watched a few movies specifically on the topic since Grace couldn’t think of a good way to explain it. Rocky liked the musical ones the best. He liked musicals in general, to be entirely fair.

He hears Rocky perk up from his place in the tunnel, claws clicking together as he nearly buzzes. “Yes, lots and lots and lots, statement,” the computer helpfully translates. Even within the bounds of simulated voice it lets out a lovestruck tone. It’s like when Grace heard his students talking about crushes. Puppylove. The honeymoon phase. Whichever one worked. “Love love love love love Adrian.”

Grace chuckles. That sure was a lot of love for one individual. He pushes away from the table where he’s checking in on the taumoeba to properly look at his friend.

He’s a bit hesitant. His glasses fall around his chin as he fidgets and folds his arms over his chest. His voice catches in his throat when he tries to speak. “And how does that feel to you?” He asks quietly.

He’d been… thinking recently. He needed something confirmed for him.

“Feel like ♬♩♪♫♬♩♪♫♬♩♫♪♩♬.” Of course it was something they hadn’t translated yet. That was useful. Still, it sounded beautiful. Both high and low. And long. The longest word they’ve ever shared. That or it’s multiple words in quick enough succession the translator can’t pick it up. “Why Grace want to know, question?”

He rubs his eyes and drags his hand down his face. He looks and Rocky is standing still, clearly waiting on a response. “Sorry… I think I’ve been getting more memories back but they’re not making sense anymore.” Grace rubs his head, trying to scratch some more memories out. He isn’t even sure if remembering more would help anymore. They mostly came in short bursts but these past few have been odd. Odder than usual. “I– so humans get these things called crushes where we like someone romantically before we start courting. I’m remembering all my crushes but none of them feel like romantic feelings looking back?”

Rocky trills wordlessly. It’s like when humans hum to acknowledge what’s been said but there’s nothing they have to add yet. His legs tap the xenonite as he scuttles around before settling and lifting his carapace to Grace.

He sighs, then chuckles, then sighs and places his head in his hands. “I don’t know. Just, looking back, I don't love people normally.” He shrugs, entirely uncertain of himself. “I don’t think I feel love?”

“Wrong, wrong, wrong, statement,” Rocky chirps. “Grace feel many love. Feel for Rocky, feel for Earth, feel for students.”

Oh boy, he was never very good at explaining stuff out loud like this. Especially not to an alien species who already had culture differences. “Yeah but that’s normal stuff. Everyone loves their friends. It’s romance I don’t feel. That’s not… normal on Earth. I don’t want to mate, it’s kinda disgusting to me. I don’t even want to kiss anyone, I think. I thought I wanted to but I didn’t kiss my first girlfriend, even when she asked.” Rocky trills again, tapping his leg twice to indicate he didn’t understand a word. Grace smiles at the familiarity of it. They'd gotten used to each other's little quirks by now. “Kissing is a human romance ritual to show affection.”

“Rocky understand,” he lifts and lowers his carapace in an approximation of nodding. “Grace no want romance, question?”

He shakes his head, covering his mouth with a hand. Then he nods. Then shakes his head again. “It’s… complicated, buddy.” He stops and thinks about how to better say this. “I still want it, I like the idea of having a romantic partner but it’s… like… I’m not sure I’ve ever been romantically attracted to people. Looking back I think most of my crushes were more about wanting to be friends with them. The idea of romantic relationships also stressed me out when I thought about them and tried dating, er, courting.”

Rocky seems to consider this for a moment. He moves his legs around again, tapping against the xenonite in a pattern. It gets Grace to breathe steadily and his heart starts to slow. “Grace ♬♪♫♫♪♬.... need word.”

Grace pushes his chair over to where the laptop sits, ready to type away. “What word?”

Rocky gathers the words to try and describe it then begins to sing. “No need for romance partner. No mating. Very common on Erid to not have mate. Only want companionship.”

That gives Grace pause. He normally knew every word Rocky needed and could add it without thinking. They’d long since moved past simple words and phrases by now. They were adding more and more complex words by the day. He was understanding Rocky better as well. He leans back in his chair and looks at where Rocky walks overhead.

“I’m not sure buddy, let’s look that one up,” he says, placing his glasses back on his nose and leaning back over the laptop to type in a rough description. He really loved the onelook thesaurus for this very purpose.

It takes a moment after he’s typed in ‘no desire for romantic partner’ before it spits out the list.

The top word that matches the description is aromantic. His hands hesitate over the keyboard before he opens a different tab and enters the word into the search bar. He needed to be sure. It was a word he was familiar with but surely it wasn’t him.

“Grace?” The tiny inflection makes it sound like a question in the English language but it’s just Rocky getting his attention because he forgot to offer up a word.

“Uh, the best option for what you’re describing is aromantic.” He inputs that for the translator for ease in the future if it ever came up again. Rocky chirps happily and rocks around the tunnel above him.

“Grace aromantic, question?” The word was familiar. He’d certainly heard about it some time in his life before the petrovaline. He knows in a recent memory his kids—or rather his students—had spoken about different sexualities. One claimed to be asexual and he knew that meant to not experience sexual attraction. Had he gotten longer to think before being swept along to save the Earth he may have labeled himself that way. Sex was gross and he could never imagine doing that or looking at someone with that intent.

He faintly figured that he’d known about being aromantic at some point before now. The concept was familiar.

“But, no that’s not…” he hesitates, his voice catching behind his teeth as he stammers along. “I’ve, I want someone to love me though. I want to be loved. That’s not right,” he mumbles, pulling the laptop, currently open to the asexual wiki, and rereads the first line again. “I’m not aromantic because I fantasize about romance! Er, maybe!?” A hand comes back to rub his neck. He pulls his glasses off again. There’s a sting behind his eyes that means he’s going to cry and he swallows them down harshly.

“Grace can want love,” Rocky proclaims thoughtfully. He raises his claws to jazz-hands. “Grace human and human need affection. Eridian’s need affection! Affection but no mate.”

He blinks a few times and rereads the opening paragraph on being aromantic. His shoulders slump and he feels his whole body cave in along with them. He slowly raises his hands to push under his glasses and rub at his eyes before he can start crying frustrated tears.

“Grace aromantic,” Rocky trills again and Grace slams his hands down on the table.

“I can’t have lied to myself my whole life!” He blurts out in a sudden panic. His mind is racing almost as quickly as his heart in his chest. He runs a hand through his hair as he reconsiders his entire life thus far. None of the puzzle pieces match up with each other. He still wanted a lover, he liked the idea of kissing even if he didn’t want it for himself. He… he wanted a life long partner. “I- my whole life I loved women and, what, that’s all just been a lie? I was just lying to myself?”

Rocky chirps in distress and places his claws against the xenonite separating them. “Grace not lie, Grace not know.”

“But how could I not? Humans are- we’re built with romance in us. It’s a part of all of us! How can I not have known what romance feels like!”

But he didn’t. He didn’t know what made his romances different from friends. Tazin was a lesbian but he loved her and it wasn’t romantic. He loved her like a friend—no, more than a friend but it wasn’t romance either. He loved Kelly and wanted to be with her forever. He wanted to live with her by his side but it didn’t work because he didn’t love her right. He loved Carl. He loved Eva.

He was so full of love that had nowhere to go because…

Because Grace didn’t experience romance.

He pushes himself up from the desk, feeling like his whole body was made of static. Rocky was humming in question and concern but Grace didn’t hear words.

All his life was a lie? Truly? He’d never experienced romance? Something he wanted so badly? It was all a lie? He just… betrayed himself for twenty eight years?

He feels the tears warm against his skin as he rushes away.

“I need alone time!” He manages to call out to Rocky who stays behind as Grace rushes away.

Rocky understood needing to be alone, but neither of them particularly liked it.

It’d been a few days since Grace’s little outburst and eventual quiet reflection in the observation room. Rocky hasn’t mentioned anything since then, likely to avoid making him upset.

It’d been awkward between them because Grace didn’t want to bring up his internal battle with himself. The research he did when he was alone. How long he dedicated to this thought.

He gets an ounce of bravery halfway through watching Enchanted during their movie night and pauses it just as Giselle ends her song about love.

Rocky turns a little towards him to show his shift in attention.

Grace sighs, placing his elbow against his leg and lowering his face into his palm. He looks over to his friend and pushes his glasses up his face. “Can you promise not to be upset at me? And you will try to understand?”

His heart was racing and he knew Rocky heard. He was anxious. He was afraid. For all he knew of queer stuff this was something he never did fully understand. The fear. Though, he’d also never had to do this before.

Rocky perks up instantly at those words, chittering excitedly before saying words they can actually translate. “Yes, yes. Grace safe, safe, safe, safe with Rocky, statement.” He smiles as Rocky presses his carapace against his little hamster ball—or, Rocky ball. “Rocky will understand!”

Grace reaches out and places a hand against the warm xenonite, rubbing his thumb there. It’s the closest to touch they can get without hurting each other. He’s soothed ever so slightly.

This is a safe situation. Grace isn’t exactly going to be kicked out of Mary because he would die and Rocky didn’t want anyone else of his crew to die. Plus, it was technically his ship. He can’t get kicked off his own ship. Rocky already had a word for this and seemed very understanding. Grace was safe here but his heart still beats heavy in his chest.

“Yeah, uh, I’ve had a good think about it and I guess I am aromantic. And definitely asexual.” He sighs to try and disperse the tears that gather in his eyes. They still catch in his throat and, wow, he really is just a leaky little alien. Rocky is kind enough not to mention it. “Asexual means, uh, I don’t want sexual activity.” Rocky likely wouldn’t understand that aspect as his species wasn't really purely sexual in their reproduction either.

“Then… Grace no mate, question?”

“Yeah bud, I- uh…” he stammers a moment longer. He’s still crying and wipes his face on his wrist as he considers what to say. It was difficult to explain when he’d only found out for himself so recently. “I guess… human culture loves romance and sex a lot. I guess I never considered that wanting a partner for life didn’t equal experiencing romantic attraction. Everyone always knew what romance was and it… I think I just didn’t but I understood the act of it. I got the love just not the love.”

Rocky nods but keeps quiet to let Grace go on. He smiles through the tears making tracks down his face.

“Now that I’ve thought about it, I guess not trying to date was a sign of it. I think I used my work as an excuse not to date rather than an actual reason.” he had tried. He really had, but the desire to try was never really there. Especially not when most dating apps were for hookups rather than trying to find an actual life partner. But, Grace didn’t need one now. He had Rocky. What he’d wanted all along was a friend. Someone who wouldn’t leave because he didn’t love the right way. “I just never realized I didn’t even want to date.”

Rocky chitters again and rocks his ball around as he happily trots in an unmoving circle. “Grace aromantic, question?” He lets that thought sit in his mind for a moment. He really, really considers it. He thinks about his life on Earth and every event that led him to this moment.

He thinks about Tazin, Kelly, Carl and Eva. He thinks about how close he was to each of them without ever wanting for more. He thinks about how stressed the thought of a romantic relationship made him, even before Kelly and him started to date. He thought about how content he was with his students and the cats that lived near his apartment. He thought about how much he loved, enough it might burst out his chest.

He places a hand against the xenonite and presses his cheek into the warmth. He’s crying again, but it’s no longer from fear and stress and sorrow over something he feels he lost. He was perfectly fine just the way he was right now. “Grace aromantic, statement,” he says to his best friend. The only person who didn’t leave. The only person he came back for.

Rocky shakes again as the tears come heavier. “Grace happy, question?”

He breathes out slowly. “Grace happy, happy, happy, happy. Statement.”