Archive of Our Own

“Ryder!”

Tom is pulled just short of aggressively by his elbow, rudely interrupting the time he’d so thoughtfully put aside to fix his hair.

His captor is Colt, evidently; there isn’t anyone else on set who would’ve dared grab him like that (apart from Gail, maybe.) Tom wriggles out of Colt’s iron grip—with a bit of difficulty, but Colt didn’t have to know that—and fixes the other man with what he considers to be his most baleful glare.

“The hell’s wrong with you?”

“Would you please shut up?” Colt interrupts him, a lot more phlegmatic than he’d expected. The stuntman steps to the side slightly and puts an arm around the person behind him that Tom hadn’t noticed until then. He’s caught off guard by his resemblance to the guy, they look very nearly identical. If Tom walked onto set and saw the newcomer standing around he’d see nothing out of the ordinary.

“This is my brother Ryland, who actually happens to like your stuff, so I’m sure you two’ll get along swimmingly.”

The stranger elbows Colt lightly and clears his throat awkwardly.

Brothers. That certainly makes a lot more sense than the cloning theory he’d begun to string together. His brain quickly shifts over to the other half of that sentence, however.

“Ahh, a fan, huh? Did you get all the smart genes, then?” Tom reaches out a hand, smiling wide.

Ryland accepts the gesture. “I don’t know about that. Colt certainly landed a more lucrative job than I did.”

“Which is?”

Ryland looks a little surprised for a moment, furrowing his eyebrows in a way that Tom never sees on Colt’s face. Side-by-side, the differences between the two are made clear. Ryland’s nose is straight and spared from the many fractures Colt has suffered. Colt is a bit more built, and has broader shoulders, and Ryland’s hair is messier and has less product holding it together. Most importantly, it looked like Ryland wore glasses, but he’d taken them off to fiddle with absently.

“Uh, I teach. But it’s pretty boring compared to what you guys do.” He chuckles.

Tom scoffs, comfortably adopting his public persona of modesty. “I shoot fake guns and repeat a bunch of words written by other people. You’re actually doing something useful.” Before the other man can respond to that, Tom continues. “So Ryland, you want a picture?”

“Sure.” Ryland fishes his phone out of the pocket of his dorky cardigan, very nearly dropping it multiple times.

“Colt, would you take our picture?” Tom asks sweetly.

Colt scoffs. “Sure,” he says sarcastically, but he takes the phone anyway.

Ryland sets his glasses down as Tom puts an arm around him. Ryland holds up a peace sign. Behind the camera Colt tries his very best not to glare at them, so his face takes on a strange constipated look. Tom will tease him about it later.

“Thank you.” Ryland says when Colt gives him his phone back and he scrolls through the pictures. “My students will freak when they see this.”

“Anything for you.” Tom says lowly.

Ryland smiles brightly, and Tom can’t help but mimic the expression.

“Yeah, okay,” Colt says, stepping slightly between the two. “Meet and greet over. We’ve got places to be, Ry, come on.” He turns without acknowledging Tom’s presence and starts to walk away.

Ryland looks between the two for a moment before he starts to follow. “It was nice meeting you,” he says quickly. Tom raises an arm in a wave, and starts to turn back to his mirror, but something catches his eye.

Ryland’s glasses are still on the table where he’d set them down, lenses smudged by his anxious hands, which Tom found quite endearing. He snatches them up and jogs over to the brothers’ retreating forms.

“Hey!” He calls to make them stop, because Tom Ryder doesn’t really run after people (even if Colt’s brother actually does look like a cool guy, and seems better than his brother in pretty much every way.) Ryland turns immediately while Colt just stops walking and sighs dramatically enough for Tom to see it from behind him.

“You left these,” Tom says. He reaches up and slides the glasses onto the other man’s face then flashes him a grin. Ryland actually looks really nice when he wears them.

Ryland stands aghast at the gesture and touches the glasses now on his face lamely. “Thanks,” he says.

“Anytime.” Tom winks. Ryland’s eyebrows reach new heights never thought possible. He turns and walks away casually before he calls over his shoulder, “Lovely meeting you, Ry!”

“I’m gonna kill him.” He hears Colt mutter behind him.

It’s two days later when Tom sees Ryland again. He’s standing just shy of awkwardly by his brother, cradling his coffee cup gently against his chest and head on a swivel as he admires the only barely controlled chaos around him. His glasses are hanging below his chin now. Tom’s starting to seriously consider that he was never taught how to properly wear them.

Tom watches the two casually for a few minutes as Ryland follows Colt around set. He isn’t extremely invested in what they’re doing, but he’d be lying if he said that Colt’s teacher twin brother didn’t intrigue him a bit. How has he never seen him before? Or even heard of him? Yeah, the guy doesn’t love him, but he thought he and Colt were pretty close. He certainly told Colt a lot about his life.

Eventually, Colt is pulled away by makeup, leaving Ryland standing in the middle of the set and sipping his coffee as he glances around for something to busy himself with. Tom figures he could be something.

While his back is turned, Tom approaches the man, but finds that he doesn’t exactly know what to say when he gets there.

“Those are supposed to go on your face,” he lands on.

Ryland turns mid-sip and swallows hard. “What?”

Tom points to his glasses. “People usually wear glasses on their face. You seem to struggle with that for some reason.”

Ryland laughs, still somewhat caught off-guard, but mostly looking relieved to see a familiar face. He removes his glasses, puts them over the bridge of his nose and raises his eyebrows. Tom hums contentedly.

“Sometimes they give me a headache. They don’t, uh, match my prescription exactly… which you don’t care about. Don’t worry, Colt makes fun of me for it too.”

Tom tilts his head to the side. “Why don’t you get new ones?”

“I’m a middle school teacher.”

“Fair enough. Couldn’t Colt lend you some money, though?”

“He doesn’t uh,” Ryland smiles and dips his head to hide his face. “He doesn’t know, exactly.”

Tom smiles at the small show of trust. “Well, I think it’s cute.” Ryland’s eyes snap to him, but Tom’s too busy looking at their surroundings to notice. “So how do identical twins like you and Colt turn out so different?”

“You mean have two different impressions of you?”

“Aww, does Colt talk about me?” Tom places a hand over his heart.

Ryland laughs. “A little. I’ll spare you the details, but I don’t think he thinks extremely highly of you.”

“And what does Ryland Seavers think about me?” Tom leans into the other man’s space, who doesn’t back away, to his slight surprise.

“Well, Ryland Grace hasn’t decided yet,” he replies, taking another sip of his coffee. “My brother makes good judgements, but… you haven’t been awful so far.”

“Grace,” Tom repeats, deciding to take the compliment. “That’s pretty.” He wants to ask him how twins can end up with different last names, but given how Ryland skillfully avoided his question regarding the differences between him and his brother, he figures he shouldn’t push.

“Thanks,” Ryland scoffs, looking down at his coffee.

Tom flounders for more things to say, though he expertly covers it up by sighing and pretending to scan the bustle around them. Grace isn’t responding to anything he says, even his famously irresistible smirk. Maybe he’s just horribly oblivious. Tom had to kick up the charm. He’s not sure exactly why he’s so drawn to the guy—he’s certainly not a fan of the brother he seems rather close to.

“So is there anyone you’re going home to tonight?” Real smooth Ryder.

Ryland chuckles and settles him with a look that he definitely recalls from 7th grade. “Are you seriously flirting with me right now?”

“Is it working?”

“Mmm.” Ryland looks up like he has to really think about it. “Not really.”

“Man, thought I had you.” Tom toes at the ground.

They stare at each other for a moment, both smiling. It isn’t as uncomfortable as it should be, so Tom allows himself to just enjoy the company.

“Ryland!” They’re broken from their reverie by Colt’s inimical voice. Tom turns to see the guy walking rapidly over to them, looking more annoyed than he’d maybe ever seen him. And that was saying something.

Colt pushes Tom away and he raises his hands quickly in surrender. “What? What? Literally what do you want from me dude?”

“What are you doing?” Colt demands, stepping in front of his brother.

“Having a nice chat with my new friend Ryland Grace here.” Tom answers innocently.

“Yeah, not anymore you’re not.” Colt responds.

It’s then that Tom realizes exactly how protective of his brother Colt seems to be (that is, very.) A wickedly jocular idea pops into his head, and he can’t help the too-wide grin that corrupts his face. If even being close to Ryland makes Colt this frustrated, then actively flirting with him might force the stuntman to actually explode.

And so maybe he’d already started doing that—just a little bit—of his own accord, but upping the ante a little couldn’t hurt. 

He’s brought back to reality by Ryland shoving his brother out of the way.

“Chill out, dude.” Ryland says through a laugh. “We were just talking.”

“You’re willingly talking to this guy?” Colt looks between them, bewildered. When his brother nods, Colt deflates slightly. “Thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

“He is,” Tom speaks up. Colt shoots him a glare, but does little else with his more friendly twin in present company.

Ryland laughs, pleasantly surprising Tom and greatly confusing Colt. The latter begins evaluating every one of his biases towards both other men, and seriously considers the possibility that either Tom actually isn’t as bad as he had previously suspected, or that Ryland is actually a massive idiot. He somehow finds the second option more likely.

“Colt! We need you over here!” Jody’s voice interrupts them just as Tom starts to open his mouth to seal the Ryland-liking-Tom-Ryder deal. Maybe it was good she intervened, because he’s sure he would’ve spewed out a whole lot of nothing.

Colt very clearly lights up at the sound of the woman’s voice, though he immediately tries to cover it up. By the look on Ryland’s face he notices it too.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll be right back,” he says absently, before he disappears in the direction of his girlfriend’s voice.

“Are they as insufferable here as they are on the phone?” Tom jumps (very slightly, he feels is important to mention) and realizes dimly that the two grew very close when Ryland leaned in to speak with him. Tom casually stares off after Colt and tries to keep his breathing under control. God, when had Ryland started to fluster him? Tom is quite rapidly losing control of a situation he’d played dozens of times.

Tom laughs awkwardly then immediately clenches his teeth and attempts to keep the cringe off his face.

“Yeah, it’s pretty disgusting.” He crosses his arms thoughtfully. “Hey, you never answered my question before.” He smirks and turns to the other man, happy to distract himself with this new piece of leverage.

Ryland furrows his brow. “What question?” He’s poorly hiding that he knows exactly which one Tom is referring to.

“Are you going home to anyone tonight?” Tom supplies anyway.

The other man makes no move to acknowledge that yes, now he remembers, further proving Tom’s theory. He sips his coffee thoughtfully for an agonizingly absurd amount of time, all while holding eye-contact with Tom.

“No. I’m not.”

Tom nods. “Cool.”

“Cool?”

“Yes, cool.”

“Gee, thanks.” Ryland chuckles. Tom mourns their eye-contact when the other man looks away, off in the direction Colt has yet to return from.

“So,” Tom begins coolly. “What’s a guy got to do to get your number?”

Ryland snickers, scuffing his foot on the gravel of the set they’re still lingering on. They’ll have to leave soon when shooting starts. Tom doesn’t think about that.

He doesn’t answer the question for a long time, and Tom’s smile quickly grows confused. He waits a little longer, wondering if Ryland’s struggling to come up with a smooth answer, but the other man’s face is devoid of thought. It’s an odd thing to witness happen live in front of you.

“What?” the actor finally breaks the tense silence when he physically cannot take it anymore.

Ryland’s gaze jerks back to him, distantly surprised. “What?”

“You never answered my question.”

“What question?”

“Dude.” Tom can’t help but laugh. The guy’s a teacher, he should know what a question is and how to answer it better than most. Tom’s considering reporting him to the school board.

“Oh. Oh!” Ryland takes an almost unintentional step back. “You’re… you’re serious.”

“Yeah,” Tom says plainly. Jesus, this man fascinates him.

“I, uh, don’t give out my number to people I don’t really know.” Ryland rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, like he desperately wants to disappear into the mess around them. Tom actually wants to do that too.

That line literally never fails him, and now he’s standing there like an idiot, surrounded by his coworkers and a man who teaches twelve year olds that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. A man who also just so happened to reject him. Tom Ryder. He just rejected Tom Ryder. Mitochondria. Whooo, he sure is related to Colt.

“Oh. No. Yeah. That makes sense. Cool. Super cool. So I’m just gonna…” Tom points vaguely behind him and starts to back away. “We’re gonna start soon so I gotta… get ready! You know how it is. Anyway, so I gotta go do that, uh, bye.”

Shit. So much for his master plan. How is he supposed to get Ryland to like him when his brother’s filled his head with all these crazy stories?

Okay, no. This is fine. Great, actually; he likes a challenge. Ryland said he doesn’t give his number to people who he doesn’t know. So he just has to get to know Tom. Yeah, that’ll work. He’ll keep up the charm, just shift things over to more of a friendship area, then he can start the flirting back up.

Wow, he’s smart.

Ryland stares at the Tom Ryder shaped dust cloud rapidly dissipating in front of him and blows out a long breath. Had that really just happened? Did he just reject Tom Ryder? Like, the movie guy?

He’s glad he did it. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to get over everything Colt’s said about him just like that, but… darn it, he’d be lying if he said the guy wasn’t a little charming. He has a reputation for a reason, after all.

He runs a hand down his face, then turns to go find his brother. He’s not going to indulge him in the conversation that just took place, mostly out of concern for Colt’s blood pressure, but also, to his surprise, Tom’s safety. He sighs again—somehow even more heavily—and can’t help but smile at the thought of seeing the other man again.

Even if he isn’t interested, the two can still be friends, right?

Tom sees Ryland just about every day for the next few weeks after that, and approaches him whenever possible (meaning, whenever Gail’s not around to chastise him.)

Colt hates it, and Tom loves that he hates it. Ryland doesn’t really give a shit (or crap, as he would say.) Tom finds his self-censoring adorable, though out loud he only ever teases him about it. He wonders if Ryland can see right through it, he does have to sit through seventh graders’ bullshit lies every day. Tom would know, he’s compared to a seventh grader on a pretty much daily basis.

Neither of them brings up Tom’s past attempts at flirting—Tom plans on playing a long game here, and unfortunately Ryland is following suit aggravatingly well. Seriously, Tom has never seen resilience quite like Colt’s nerdy brother’s. Not one—and he means not one—single person has ever turned him down. It’s something he once took pride in that he now nurses cautiously every time he’s around the man of his affection.

No, no, he’s wording that wrong.

Man he uses to piss off Colt.

That part is going well, thankfully.

They’re talking one day, and Ryland is saying a lot of big words that Tom doesn’t necessarily understand, but he can appreciate the time together nevertheless. Actually he isn’t exactly sure how long the other man’s been talking. A while probably, his tongue feels heavy with disuse. He can’t remember the last time it’s felt like that.

His eyes shift to behind Ryland, where Colt is talking with Jody. Colt’s gaze flickers to them at the same moment before he quickly looks away, immediately scowling. Tom smirks at the show of contempt. This is working out better than he could’ve imagined.

Tom laughs and hits Ryland lightly on the shoulder—a patented move of his—after the other man says something actually funny, admittingly. But he mostly does it for the reaction that follows.

Colt mumbles something to Jody before he starts to push past her toward Tom and Ryland. She stops him with a firm hand on his chest and the two exchange a few quick words. Words which Colt doesn’t seem to like, but is forced to concede to for the sake of his own relationship. He nods eventually, looking more like a chastised five year old than a grown man—which Tom enjoys thoroughly—and takes a step back to affirm his amity.

Jody turns to the pair across from her. “Hey, Tom!” she calls to the subject’s slight surprise. She rarely interferes in Tom and Colt’s spats, pretty consistently quoting that they both need to grow up. Tom suspects that she actually finds it amusing.

Ryland is stopped mid-sentence and makes an odd face like he’s coming out of a trance. He rubs the back of his neck and smiles at Tom awkwardly, like he realizes how long he’s been talking and will now shut up for the foreseeable future. Tom immediately regrets engaging with the man’s brother when it means that Ryland stops talking. He has the most fascinating things to say, even if Tom doesn’t grasp everything. He’d just learned in that conversation the acceleration due to gravity on Earth—9.8 meters per second per second, by the way. He’s smart now—and Ryland’s face had lit up so wonderfully when he got to teach him something new-

Nope, stopping that train of thought. He’s talking to Ryland to piss Colt off, not because he needs to know how much gravity is pulling him down. Why and how would that ever be useful? Jesus, what is happening to him?

“Yeah?” He wrenches his gaze from Ryland to focus on the woman still sitting behind her camera.

“Would you come here for a second? I have a question for you.”

Tom looks to Ryland for confirmation and he nods quickly, still skittish from before. (Tom vows to fix that when he returns.) He smiles at him before he bounds off in Jody’s direction with a practiced air of confidence surrounding him.

Colt breaks away from her to head towards his brother, eyes trained on Tom. Tom gives him his widest grin as he passes, so Colt rolls his eyes and focuses on Ryland.

“What’s up?” Tom asks when he reaches Jody, picking absently at his fingernails.

“Nothing,” she says, suddenly very exhausted. “You’re just pissing Colt off and he’s pissing me off, so I need you to stop.”

“Oh.”

Tom slides onto the bench next to Ryland and leans heavily onto the table. It creaks under his weight, which he takes offense to. The other man doesn’t really acknowledge his presence.

His eyes are locked onto his brother, who’s being briefed once again on the stunt. It’s an easy one, nothing the guy hasn’t done before. Tom’s character is supposed to be thrown back by an explosion and crash through a wall. Colt’s done similar stunts dozens of times—he doesn’t even have to be set on fire this time, he’ll just be close to it. It doesn’t look like Ryland sees it that way.

He’s picking anxiously at the peeling paint on the picnic table, shoulders tense with trepidation. Though it is pretty frigid out and he might just be cold. Whatever, it isn’t important.

Tom sets the coffee he bought for Ryland on the table in front of him, then takes a small sip of his own.

Ryland stares at it for a moment before he picks it up and cradles it close to his chest. Maybe he is just cold. Tom envies the beanie the other man is wearing, but hey, sacrifices have to be made for hair like his.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, his voice colored with an emotion Tom can’t quite place. Shock, maybe?

“It’s totally safe, you know,” Tom says after a moment. “He’s done it before.”

“Yeah, yeah. Totally.” Ryland waves his hand at Tom. “I just hate watching it. This is why I’ve never come to set before.”

They’re both quiet again.

“I was always the one that had to look after Colt when we were kids,” Ryland rushes out. Tom is starting to get the feeling that Ryland talks when he’s nervous. “I hated getting in trouble and he had no qualms about it, so it was my job to make sure he didn’t kill himself.”

Tom chuckles. “Well, now I gotta hear your worst story.”

Ryland eyes Tom strangely. Tom raises his eyebrow back in question. Neither says anything for a few seconds, but the silence hardly makes Tom uncomfortable, just curious as to what’s happening in Ryland’s brain. Eventually, Ryland blinks a few times and looks away like he’s contemplating his answer. Whatever he was looking for, it looks like he found it.

“Alright. Once he climbed onto the roof of our middle school because one of his buddies dared him to.” He gets a far off look in his eye and smiles, which Tom finds quite sweet. “I had to distract our principal while he tried to climb down. I don’t think he bought it. I started asking him how much he was paying in taxes, I was so nervous. And it didn’t even matter, because Colt fell off the roof and broke his arm, so we both got busted and sent to detention.”

Tom laughs. “And was that your first time in detention?” he asks, only slightly condescending. Ryland doesn’t seem like the type to frequent the place. He teaches middle school for God’s sake.

“No, I was in there the month before because Colt stole a soap dispenser out of the bathroom and made me his accomplice.”

Tom laughs harder, to the point where he’s being shushed politely by the executives around him because they’re about to start shooting.

“Be quiet!” Ryland scolds him, though he’s also struggling to keep the laugh out of his voice. He only makes Tom laugh more.

They eventually manage to pull themselves together when it’s becoming clear that they’re dangerously close to getting kicked off set.

They’ve grown very close in the scuffle to shut each other up, pressed together from shoulder to elbow, knees bumping lightly together under the table. Tom glances in Colt’s direction to see if he’s noticed the two and grown an impressive shade of red like usual.

But he hasn’t. Colt’s listening intently to the director and nodding thoughtfully, mind anywhere but on Tom and his brother. Tom should put some distance between himself and Ryland, then. Maybe go over to Colt to bother him more directly.

“What’s your worst Colt story?” Ryland whispers to him, leaning in even closer to do so.

Now Tom looks at him for a moment, and Ryland does a half sort of double take when he realizes what’s grabbed Tom’s attention. He smiles awkwardly and furrows his brow as if to ask what he’s staring at.

He’s comfortable on the bench, anyway. Might as well stay.

“That can’t possibly be productive right now,” Tom says eventually. The whole point of this conversation is to calm Ryland down.

“No, not a stunt. Something with you and Colt. He complains about you so much, you’ve gotta have dozens of options.”

Tom nudges him with his shoulder and holds back his laughter. He is right, he has a lot to choose from. Well, he can’t tell him a story that’ll piss him off, which is… most of them, probably. He’ll go with a more tame one.

“Okay, so when he first started this thing with Jody—back when he thought he was being super secretive about it, but I found out immediately—he was being way more irritating than usual, so obviously I had to put him in his place.”

In front of them, they’re just about to do the shot. Ryland isn’t looking at them, though. He’s watching Tom attentively as he unfolds his story.

“So I might’ve written a letter pretending to be Jody and left it in his trailer. I told him to get all dressed up and meet Jody at the top of this building—we were shooting in the city then. Then I put an out of order sign on the elevator and made him walk up twenty stories before he got to the top and realized no one was there. I thought he’d beat the shit out of me when he got back, but there were too many witnesses so I guess he restrained himself.”

Ryland starts snickering as quietly as he can manage. Tom laughs too.

“He never told me about that.” Ryland says through giggles.

“Action!”

The two’s heads snap to Colt, who’s blown back and through the wall in the blink of an eye. The stunt’s over.

Ryland leans back. “Huh. I didn’t have enough time to be scared.” Tom smiles. Ryland finally sips his coffee, then furrows his brow and turns to Tom suspiciously. “How do you know my coffee order?”

Tom rubs the back of his neck, actually a bit flustered. “I, uh, saw it on the label last time. And I figure one of us gets paid a little more than the other, so…”

Ryland smirks and bumps their shoulders together, eyes averted to the table. “Maybe only a little.”

It happens after a shitty take.

Tom’s had a pretty shit day overall, actually. He hasn’t fucked up that majorly, but he’s made enough small mistakes for them to start weighing on him like he has. At the start of the day the writers presented him with an updated script which he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around (and that he didn’t really like, honestly) so all day he’s been struggling to remember what comes next in the jumbled mess the scene had become. He just couldn’t deliver anything in the way he wanted—he was distracted and couldn’t get into his usual flow. And now he keeps fucking up the timing in a oner the director is attempting. It’s an easy shot as far as oners go, which makes him feel especially stupid. He’s better than this, right? He’s Tom Ryder. He’s not allowed to fuck up this much.

He runs his hands through his hair for the thousandth time that day and tries to keep his leg from bouncing too much. They’re on a break now, mostly because of him. They haven’t said anything, but he can tell no one’s too pleased with him right now. Whatever. He doesn’t exactly care, he can kind of do whatever he wants. And he’ll be back to normal soon, just after he collects himself for a minute.

“Boo.”

He turns to find Ryland poised cautiously behind him, hands splayed out in a half-attempted scary gesture. He returns to his normal posture immediately and chuckles nervously.

“Sorry, I didn’t really know what to say.”

Tom smiles and Ryland steps up to stand at his side.

“That shot was cool. I kind of got to see it, I was peering over this one guy’s shoulder, so…” He makes an aborted move with his hands before he seems to think better of it. “You did great.”

Tom hesitates before he tries to reply with his usual response. The one where he thanks him and compares the shot to one of his previous films while laughing about how easy it all seems to him.

It surprises him to realize that… he doesn’t want to talk to Ryland like that. He doesn’t want to give him his fake smiles and over-practiced responses. He doesn’t want to thank him because he doesn’t agree with what he’s said.

“You don’t have to lie.”

His words do surprise Ryland, or at least he thinks they do, because he’s left speechless for a moment.

“What? I’m not lying. You looked freakin’ cool up there. I couldn’t tell why the director kept stopping it, because you were nailing it every time.”

Tom sighs. “No, I kept coming in too early. And I should have corrected it, but… I don’t know, I’m just off of my game today.”

Ryland shrugs like it’s just that easy. “That’s fine. Just do it again tomorrow.”

Tom chuckles. “Yeah, you can’t really do that in this industry. Time is money, I guess.”

Ryland hums thoughtfully. “I guess I kind of get what you mean. Do you know how many times I’ve walked into my class and the absolute last thing I wanted to see that day was a room full of twelve year olds?” Tom laughs and Ryland quickly joins in. “But I can’t exactly just go home, so I’ve gotta teach them about clouds or something anyway.”

Tom’s still grinning after he’s done talking. “Yeah, I had my fair share of teachers that made it obvious they did not want to be there every day.” Ryland opens his mouth to add something self deprecating. “You’re not like that, though.” Tom doesn’t let him. “You care about what you teach, and that’s more than a lot of teachers are willing to give. I can tell from when you teach me.”

Ryland’s quiet and they just stare at each other for a while. It feels more intimate than most other things he’s done with his partners.

“Thank you,” Ryland says.

“Five more minutes!” someone in the distance calls, breaking the spell.

Tom takes a step back.

“So, do you just live here now, or something? Why are you here so often?”

“Colt wanted me to visit over the summer, but I always get a job in between school years so I wasn’t so sure. Then he offered to get me a job here as a science consultant. Win-win, I guess.”

“Well, you better make sure that I’m all accurate and shit. If people shit talk me online I’ll blame you.”

Ryland chuckles. “Will do.”

“Thanks for the talk.” Tom shakes out his arms. “I needed that.”

Ryland looks a little surprised by that, but he smiles and nods anyway. Tom loves him.

Mmmm, no he likes him.

No, he doesn’t even like him, he’s just a nerdy friend he’s using to piss off his much more annoying brother.

He can’t get that last picture of Ryland’s smile out of his head.

Shit. He needs to stop, because he definitely won’t be able to focus on the shot now.

But he can’t. Scenes of Ryland play on repeat in his head, sifting through every touch, every glance, every interaction and wrapping them up in a pretty clear package.

Oh, God.

Somewhere along the way, he’d gone and caught real feelings for Ryland. Not just the usual physical attraction he dealt with regularly, but he’d somehow grown emotionally attached to the man, too.

And that’s not supposed to happen. That never happens, actually, not to people like Tom. And that’s fine. He’s fine with that. He knows his place in the world and he’s content with it—he’s been content with it. Ryland’s place is to fall in love, settle down with the picket fence, kids, everything like that. Tom isn’t meant for that. They’re not meant for that.

He wants it, though.

He’s called back to his mark. A lady fixes his hair. Someone gives him a last minute note. He barely senses any of it.

His eyes catch on Ryland in the crowd of people with their eyes locked onto him. He gives him a thumbs up.

It calms him down, strangely. Can someone give you such an adrenaline rush and then dissipate it all without doing anything?

Because when he sees him, his heart settles into a comfortable, familiar pulse that he’s surprised to find it always does when he’s around Ryland. His mind clears of the memories of his gaze, of his eyes, because he’s staring at them right now.

He takes a deep breath, and someone calls action.

He forces his eyes away from Ryland’s.

Oh, he’s so fucked.

“Hello?” Colt prompts after a long minute of silence.

Tom had slid into the seat across from him, pout prominent on his lips, and plopped his head onto the table, pillowing it on his arms.

“Colt, we’re friends, right?” Tom mumbles through the current limited mobility of his chin.

Colt snorts and resumes picking at his salad. “Whatever you say, buddy.”

Tom shifts slightly to look more clearly at the other man. He seems entirely unbothered by his presence, and continues to peacefully eat his lunch while he scrolls absentmindedly on his phone. Tom bristles slightly.

“Well, you don’t seem too invested in the distress I’ve made very apparent to you,” he complains. He kicks his feet restlessly under the table.

“I don’t?” Colt asks as he continues to stare at his phone. “I’d call this pretty active listening.”

Oh, it’s useless. What is Tom thinking anyway, getting advice from his least favorite person on set? Well, that isn’t true, Colt doesn’t actually bother him all that much, and is a pretty good stunt actor most of the time- Jesus! What is happening to him?

He’s saying nice things about Colt. Well, it’s in his head, but they’re almost compliments if you squint, which is more than he’s ever even considered before. Ryland is a bad influence. A terrible one. He hates thinking this way. He feels good about Colt and he feels good about himself and it’s awful.

Tom sighs dramatically and thuds his chin against the table, which makes Colt’s phone jostle in his grip. He finally sets it down and settles Tom with a look that reminds him of his brother. It makes Tom smile. Wow, he really needs to get his act together.

“Alright, what is it?” He runs a hand down his face slowly, rolling his eyes so dramatically, Tom fears they’ll get stuck looking at the back of his head forever.

“Really?” Tom perks up immediately, hitting his knee on the table and hissing in pain.

Colt closes his eyes and breathes very slowly. “Clearly, I won’t be left alone to eat my lunch in peace until we get this over with, so take it away.”

Tom sits up and holds his hands out, mouth poised to begin his rambling, but he’s forced to stop. What is he going to say to Colt? He didn’t really think this plan through.

“Uh,” he says. He doesn’t continue.

“Jesus Christ,” Colt mutters. He leans his elbows onto the table so Tom is forced to meet his gaze. “Dating, acting, or money?”

“What?”

“Is your issue about dating, acting, or money?” Colt repeats, like Tom’s the biggest idiot in the world.

Are those the only options? Surely there’s more to Tom’s life than those things.

“Dating,” his mouth says before he gives it permission.

“Hookup or serious?” Colt asks, but chuckles before Tom can answer. “Who am I kidding, it’s definitely not-”

“Serious,” Tom blurts out. Wow, this is actually very helpful.

Colt stares at him for a moment—almost looks like he’s sizing him up, or maybe reevaluating all previous notions he’d had about him.

“Really.” Colt’s voice is held carefully flat.

“Yes.”

Colt stares at the table and thinks very hard. His mouth fumbles for words before he says, “Who?”

“Yeah, nice try,” Tom says, regaining some of his composure now that they’ve gotten the ball rolling. “I don’t want you blabbing about it to the press, now do I?”

“Alright,” Colt says, getting to his feet. “I’ll be going then.”

“No, no, no, Colt please! I’m sorry. I really do need your help.” Tom holds his hands out in a prayer gesture, pleading expression on full display with the absence of his sunglasses.

Colt hesitates before he eventually sits back down, glare still firmly fixed onto Tom. He makes a motion for Tom to continue, and the actor lights up immediately.

“So I’ve been talking to this guy—or not talking. That’s the thing, we’re in this weird, unlabeled, friends-who-flirt-with-each-other stage right now—and it’s so infuriating because I cannot tell if he like, like-likes me or if I’m just blowing things out of proportion because I sort of like-like him, and I never do serious relationships so I’m not really sure how this is supposed to go, and I actually really don’t want to mess this up for once, and I don’t know what to do.” Tom ends his glorified run-on sentence by banging his head against the table and keeping it there. He finds it a fitting conclusion.

“Wow,” Colt says. “Tom Ryder has feelings?” Tom lifts his head the bare minimum amount to frown at him. “Sorry,” he amends. “So why are you telling me about this?”

Tom straightens and instead plops his head in his hands. “You’re in a relationship.” He observes.

“No I’m not.” Colt picks at his salad.

“You know that I know, man.”

Colt scowls at him. Maybe it isn’t the best idea to remind him of that incident when he needs his help, but Tom isn’t putting the most amount of thought into his words. Hopefully he’s put Colt through enough bullshit to recover from it quickly.

Colt breaks his gaze to sigh a sigh he’s sighed many times in Tom’s presence. “Well, what do you want me to say? Just ask him out.”

“It’s that easy?”

Colt puts his head in his hands. “You haven’t tried that yet?”

“No! Well, kind of. I asked for his number before we really knew each other and he said no, but everything’s different now. What if he friendzones me or something?” Surely Colt would’ve thought the same thing before he started dating Jody, is this really so hard to understand?

“Do you think he likes you?”

Tom hesitates. Well, Ryland certainly likes him, the real question is how exactly. Tom genuinely can’t pinpoint any of their interactions as strictly romantic or platonic. He’s never been in a relationship before, he doesn’t know how to judge these things. He hasn’t even figured out his own feelings, how is he supposed to sus out someone else’s?

“Yes?” he says.

“You don’t sound too convinced.” Colt observes.

Tom’s sure he looks pretty miserable. “Can you see my problem now?”

“Yeah, sure. Well, you just gotta ask yourself how much you want to be with him. If it’s just a hallway crush then you could let it fizzle out, but…” Colt eyes him strangely. “This doesn’t seem like that. I’d go for it.”

“You’re sure?”

Colt shrugs. “I ‘like-liked’ Jody—as you put it—for so long before we started… our thing.”

Tom had picked up recently that neither of the two ever really referred to their relationship with a concrete label, though it was painfully obvious they both wanted that. Maybe Tom could unpack that with Colt when it was his turn for a therapy session.

“And it sucked,” Colt continued. “But eventually she did the thing that I was too much of a pussy to do, and asked me out, which is what you should be doing right now, instead of getting advice from me.”

Tom thinks for a while. “But what if things get weird?”

Colt groans. “How often do you see this guy that it could inconvenience you at all? Is it someone you met on set?” He glances around at their very limited view of people.

Tom is quiet for a second too long so Colt’s eyes widen. “It is! You have to tell me now.”

“Mm-mm.” Tom immediately shakes his head. Terrible idea. One of the worst. Colt might genuinely kill him this time if he somehow lets his secret crush slip. And Tom actually happens to like the shape of his face as is, so he quickly dismisses the possibility.

“You’re no fun.” Colt goes back to eating his food.

“How do I ask him out in a way he can’t say no to?” Tom ignores the slight.

“I thought you were ‘irresistible,’” Colt says with air quotes, barely containing a smile.

“Me too!” Tom exclaims. Finally, someone gets it. “But apparently not to him.”

“Well, how am I supposed to help you if I know nothing about this person?” Colt looks dangerously close to actually insisting that Tom go, so he course corrects.

“Just tell me how you’d want me to ask you out.”

Colt literally gags just at that thought. “No.”

“Wha… You can’t even imagine it?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Tom says dismissively. They desperately need to move on.

“Like I might actually be forced to kill myself.”

“No, yeah, I get it.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then… pretend it’s your brother or something. Ryan, or whatever his name is. How would you want someone to ask him out so you’d respect them and stuff?” Tom’s rather proud of the acting skills he employs to keep his face straight then.

“Don’t say ‘and stuff.’” Colt says automatically before he pauses and looks surprised at himself. Tom has no idea what the reason for that reaction is, but Colt continues before he can spend much more time on it. “Also it’s Ryland,” he corrects. “And that’s almost just as bad.”

Tom throws his hands in the air and slouches back in his chair. “What do you want from me? Can you afford to use your imagination for like, two seconds?”

Colt stares at him for a while, gears clearly turning—with great effort, apparently—in his mind as to what he should say next. He chews on the inside of his cheek while he thinks.

“Fine. Yeah. Sure. Whatever.” Tom lights up, leaning forward immediately and putting on his best pondering face. Colt grimaces. “Well, I know that he’d just want someone to be honest with him—leave no room for misunderstandings because the little shit overthinks everything—which I think is a good rule for anyone. So be direct about it.” Tom nods and files the information away carefully. “Maybe get him a gift? People like that. Get him something related to his interests.” Colt stares at him seriously. “Do you know literally anything that he’s interested in?”

Tom grumbles loudly. “Yes, I obviously know what he likes, I’m not a complete dipshit.”

Colt raises an eyebrow and squints at him. “Mmm, are you sure?”

“Fuck you.”

“Right back at you, pal,” Colt says with a smile. “Welp, can I go now? Because Jody’s been texting me for the last ten minutes and you’ve kidnapped me for dating advice.” Colt gets up without waiting for an answer and starts collecting his things.

“Whoa, whoa, that’s it?” Tom protests. “Be direct and buy him something? That’s the extent of your wisdom?”

Colt sighs and meets his gaze again. “Look, Tom, if he’s actually interested in you, then it won’t matter how you ask him out because he’ll say yes no matter what you do. Now, why anyone would say yes to that…” Colt gestures vaguely at Tom. “I’ll never understand, but if he does, then I’ll be happy for you, man.”

Then he leaves, and Tom is left to digest those words in silence.

He is not a chickenshit. He is not a chickenshit.

Tom tries to hype himself up behind his trailer, bouncing wildly on his toes and adjusting his jacket every half-second. He spent an embarrassingly long amount of time in front of his mirror this morning picking out the exact right outfit—which is saying something because he already spends an above average amount of time staring at himself.

He just… he can’t afford to get anything wrong. He doesn’t want to think about the possibility of being shot down, which is a feeling he isn’t exactly sure how to digest. He’s never really cared about the people he flirts with before. Sure, he gets embarrassed when he’s rejected, but then he’ll forget about it the next day and move on. He’s never felt this nervous before.

He’ll just have to make himself as hard to say no to as possible.

Easier said than done, because suddenly he’s nitpicking each and every thing about himself with ease. He’d gone through nearly his entire wardrobe before he forced himself out the door in whatever outfit he’d been wearing when the moment felt right.

As soon as Tom left his trailer he saw Colt and Ryland conversing a few yards away like everything was right with the world and reality wasn’t collapsing in on itself like Tom happened to notice it was. Ryland was wearing one of his nicer shirt/cardigan combos, and was actually wearing shoes that looked like they were bought within the past year. A flush crawled up Tom’s neck.

“Jesus.” Tom ducked behind his trailer before anyone could see how obviously he was staring at the guy.

And now here he is, fidgeting with the small package clutched tightly in his grip and shaking out his arms like he’s backstage opening night of his high school musical while hiding from a middle school science teacher.

The Tom Ryder, he keeps repeating to himself. It isn’t comforting anymore. Now it just reminds him how low he’s stooped.

He slaps himself once on the cheek and steps out from behind the trailer.

Ryland notices him almost immediately, and breaks out into one of his signature awkward smiles. Tom’s face dons a similar expression as he raises his hand in a wave.

When Ryland waves back, Colt takes notice, and turns to frown at Tom. It’s fascinating how quickly his face manages to droop when he catches sight of him. What would’ve delighted Tom mere days ago now just makes him even more nervous. Ryland has rejected him before mostly only because of Colt’s stories about him. Maybe he should actually try to win him over now if he wants a chance with his literal twin brother.

“Hey, Ryland,” he says a bit breathlessly. He inhales a greater quantity of air to better support the latter half of his sentence. “Can I talk to you for a second?” He glances at Colt. “Alone.”

Ryland furrows his brow and smiles, glancing between Tom and Colt curiously. “Yeah, sure.”

Colt’s looking at Tom weird. Not necessarily dangerously, just more… cautious is the word. Tom meets his gaze for a moment (despite his efforts to avoid eye-contact at all costs) and Colt tries to ask him a question with his eyes, but Tom is unable to decipher it.

Then Colt’s eyes drop to the gift Tom currently has a death grip on, and his eyes widen in a horrible fashion as it looks like he’s putting two-and-two together. His head snaps up to Tom so fast he worries it’ll fly right off.

“No,” he mouths as Tom leads his brother away.

“Yes,” he mouths back, grin overtaking his face.

Shit.

His expression drops as soon as Colt is planted firmly behind him.

Why did he ever think it’d be a good idea to ask Colt for advice? Obviously he’d be the first one to connect the dots between Tom’s mystery crush and the brother he’s known for his entire life. However dense he is, the guy isn’t a complete idiot. And he’s well established just how protective he is of Ryland, and yet here Tom is, pursuing him anyway.

It just had to be Ryland, didn’t it?

Tom walks a bit too fast to be considered casual to get away from Colt as fast as possible. Ryland doesn’t seem to mind, he’s already a fast walker from what Tom’s observed.

They land in one of the more secluded areas of the set. Tom’s thinking corner, as he likes to call it. It has a great view of the city, and is blocked by a wall of boxes and equipment that no one has ever really bothered to move. A bit of dodging and weaving has to be done to get there, and it’s almost entirely out of sight from any wandering eyes, perfect for if he gets laughed at or slapped or something adjacent.

“So what’s up?” Ryland asks. He looks confused by the sudden change of scenery, but overall unbothered by it. His eyes dart to the gift then return to Tom’s face.

Tom takes a deep breath and steels himself. He has to do it now, or else he’ll look like the biggest idiot of all time.

“I have to tell you something,” he starts. Yeah. Good start. Right to the point. No dilly dallying.

“Okay.” Ryland looks a little nervous, smile taking on a more anxious tone.

Tom exhales heavily. “Ohhhhkay. Um. I don’t know how to start this.” He chuckles nervously to diffuse the tension, but it just makes everything more awkward.

Okay. Tom. Pull yourself together. This doesn’t matter. It’s one guy who you can very easily just stop talking to if this goes poorly.

But he doesn’t want to stop talking to him, is the thing. He makes him laugh more than most anyone in his life. He makes Tom actually feel good about himself, even after he’s already rejected him. Their talks are always easy, and Tom doesn’t even need to resort to talking about himself to fill the space. He doesn’t even feel the need to talk about himself—a feat within itself—because he’s completely content just listening to Ryland’s ramblings.

No one’s made him feel like that before.

“I like you.” He blurts it out before his brain can catch up and tell him otherwise.

Ryland looks stunned, but almost in a half-sort-of-way where Tom is sure he thinks he misunderstood the sentence. He tilts his head, mouth half open in a question, before Tom continues to barrel on.

He has to be blunt, doesn’t he?

“Like, I really like you. I like-like you. A lot. I like talking to you. You make me smile whenever you walk into a room. I like your lame sweaters, and your terrible taste in coffee, and your little fun facts.” He has to get all of this out before Ryland can get a word in likewise, because he knows him, and he knows that he’ll just deny anything and everything positive said about him.

“You talk to me even when I’m being an ass, or when I’m just being a normal guy. I don’t have to be The Tom Ryder around you, I can just be Tom. I like being around you, which I’m not used to, because I don’t like being around anyone except for myself. And I feel like I could listen to you talk for hours because you’re so smart, but you explain everything so well that I never get lost, because you’re considerate and kind, and I just admire you so much.

“Wow, uh, I’m talking a lot.” He laughs dryly. “But I’ve never… had feelings like this before, so I just… needed to say it.”

Even if his mouth is done moving, his mind isn’t slowing down a bit. Actually it’s picking up dramatically to fill in the tense silence which neither of them breaks for a long time.

It looks like Ryland’s brain has completely shut down. Or maybe it’s moving so fast it’s rendered his face paralyzed. Knowing him, it’s probably the latter.

His eyes are wider than Tom’s ever seen them, and his eyebrows have disappeared behind his bangs. His hands are frozen where they’d previously been picking at a loose thread on his cardigan.

“I’m sorry,” Tom says. Shit, that was too much, wasn’t it? How do people start these things? He should’ve asked Colt for the exact words Jody had used to ask him out. “I already messed this-“

“I like you, too.”

Ryland looks almost surprised to say it. His face hasn’t exactly unfrozen, so he’s a bit hard to read.

“What?”

“Uh, I like you, too.” Ryland smiles, finally. Tom’s surprised by just how relieved he is to see it.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” He turns and punches the air. “Fuck yeah!”

He turns back to Ryland. “Wait, really? Like, romantically, right? You know that’s what I was saying?”

Ryland’s laughing at him. “Yes. Yes, I like you romantically.”

Tom’s giggling rather maniacally now. “Holy shit. Wait!” He holds out the present. “I never gave you your gift.”

“You got me something?” Ryland asks oddly. Tom isn’t able to unpack the emotions in his voice.

“Yeah, I was gonna use it to win you over.”

Ryland takes the glasses case gingerly.

“Glasses?” he asks, confused. He turns the case over like it’ll shapeshift into something more douchey.

“You said that yours aren’t the right prescription, or whatever. And smart people have to have their glasses, so…”

Ryland’s head snaps up to him, brow scrunched adorablely and mouth parted slightly. The sun outlines the back of his head perfectly, so his hair has a pretty yellow outline to it.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

Tom reels back slightly but regrets it immediately at Ryland’s expression.

“I’m sorry, that was probably too much.” He tries to laugh it off but is clearly deeply uncomfortable.

Tom tentatively rests his hand on the back of Ryland’s neck, which shuts him up quick. He waits for him to pull away, but he doesn’t. He just watches Tom for his next move.

Tom can’t wait much longer, and surges forward for a kiss. It’s chaste, but it’s wonderful.  There’s the fireworks and sparks but also a strange calmness that he feels like he’s known for a while. Tom’s never kissed someone with so many feelings involved before, and it’s all threatening to overwhelm him a bit.

He pulls away first, but doesn’t stray too far because he doesn’t think he can bear being apart from Ryland now. He only realizes that Ryland had cupped his cheek when he feels the loss of his warmth when he removes his hand. It makes him feel embarrassingly giddy.

Then Ryland pulls him back in by the collar of his shirt for a deeper kiss, which Tom can definitely get behind. His hands land on the other man’s waist after flailing for somewhere to put them, and he lets Ryland guide him wherever he wants him because he seems to know exactly what Tom needs.

They break apart and rest their foreheads together, reveling in the warmth of each other, even in the slightly suffocating LA afternoon heat.

“How did you get me glasses if you don’t know my prescription?” Ryland’s laughter shakes Tom a bit.

“Yeah, I might’ve just put five hundred dollars in a glasses case.”

Ryland pulls back to stare at him, laughing more heartily now. His hand slides down to knot their fingers together. “Five hundred dollars? How expensive do you think glasses are?”

“Well, mine are a lot more than that,” Tom defends, but he’s laughing too.

“You’re ridiculous." Ryland licks his lips and glances down at their intertwined hands. His shoulders have his usual nervous posture to them. “So are we… like dating now?”

“That depends,” Tom answers, “if you wanna go out with me tomorrow night? For dinner?”

Ryland nods immediately. “Yeah, yes, I do. Want. I want that.”

They both smile at the confirmation.

Tom feels a little bit like a tweenage girl holding hands with the popular kid behind the bleachers during lunch hour. Only they’re in their thirties and Ryland is about as far as you can get from the popular jock. He makes him feel about the same, though.

The other man’s eyes widen a bit. “Oh, God. What am I gonna tell Colt?”

Tom rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “Uh, I think he already knows. Or at least the me-liking-you half. I think he put the pieces together.”

Ryland nods slowly, gaze fixed on some point behind Tom’s head while he thinks. “Can I… tell him alone? I don’t think he’d exactly appreciate you being there.”

“Yeah, sure. I’d probably just make him more mad.” Tom says. Ryland chuckles, but his face is anxious. Tom rubs the back of his hand with his thumb. “Don’t worry. I’ll win him over eventually.”

Ryland finds his brother speaking anxiously with Jody by her camera, fingers drumming on his leg the way they always do when something is upsetting him and he isn’t sure what to do about it. He only feels the slightest bit guilty.

Jody notices him first and clears her throat loudly enough to make Colt pause his ramblings. She very pointedly looks in Ryland’s direction when Colt just stares at her, confused.

Ryland raises a hand in a tentative wave, and Colt rushes toward him. Jody excuses herself with a smile.

“Ryland, shit, I’ve been looking all over for you.” He says breathlessly. He barrels on before Ryland can even inhale the required breath to say anything. “What did the bastard say? Did he do anything to you? Where is he even?”

“Colt, geez, calm down,” he laughs. His brother looks vaguely offended at the way he dismisses his questions. “I think he went back to his trailer.”

Colt waits for a moment like there should’ve been a second half to that sentence. “And? What happened between you two? Did he do what I think he did? Because-“

“If you think he asked me out, then yes, you’d be correct.” Ryland mentally prepares for the storm that will bring.

“I knew it!” he cries. “The idiot came to me for advice about his super secret crush on set. Me of all people! I should’ve figured it out sooner.”

“He did?” Ryland can feel blush creeping onto his cheeks. He wills himself to stop, but the thought of Tom and Colt sitting down and swapping romantic advice is too ridiculous to not bring a smile to his face. Was Tom really that worried he’d say no that he went to his brother for advice? Ryland smiles even wider.

“Yeah, acted all coy about it too. He kept talking about how serious it was to him, about how badly he didn’t want to mess it up.”

Colt doesn’t know that his words are having the exact opposite intended effect on his brother, because the longer he goes on, the faster his heart starts beating.

“Um,” he says.

Colt pauses and stares at him. “What?”

Ryland rubs a hand over his eyes. “Please don’t freak out.”

“What.” Most of the humor has left Colt’s voice as he rounds on his brother fully. Ryland cringes from behind his hand.

“So I didn’t exactly say… no to him.”

Ryland removes his hand cautiously when he does not receive a response. Colt’s stuck with his eyes squinted at him strangely, arms crossed tightly across his chest.

He finds the words eventually. “What does that mean? Like, you walked away?” His face is held carefully still, like maybe if he doesn’t move then Ryland will forget he’s there and not continue this conversation.

“No,” he starts. “Like, I said yes? Just a little bit.”

“You said yes,” Colt repeats.

“Mm-hm,” Ryland confirms.

“Just clarifying.” Colt pinches the bridge of his nose. “He asked you out. Like, on a date. And you said…” He searches Ryland’s face like the answer will change. “Yes.”

“Yeah, I did.” Ryland would smile at the thought if he wasn’t so damn nervous about Colt’s next choice of words.

Colt starts breathing very deeply. He clenches and unclenches his hands, pops his knuckles, and turns his head from side to side; basically anything to distract himself from what he’d just heard.

“I said you’re not allowed to freak out!” Ryland protests.

Colt nods erratically. “Yeah, no, and I heard that, but, I mean…” he chuckles humorlessly and points in the general direction of Tom’s trailer. “Him? Seriously? That… douchebag?”

“He’s not-“

“No, no,” Colt continues. “You’re about to try and tell me that I’m wrong, but I’ve known this guy way longer than you, Ry, and trust me when I say that I know him. You do not get to tell me that he’s changed or some shit after you’ve known him for a couple weeks.”

Ryland’s quiet for a moment while Colt tries to cool down. He turns in a slow circle, and, oh wow, his legs are moving now, he must be really mad.

“Okay, I know you just told me not to do this but I swear Colt, he’s different.” He holds up a hand when Colt opens his mouth to protest. “No, it’s my turn to talk now.”

Colt looks a little taken aback, but relents. He manages to calm himself down enough to a subtle shaking of his leg.

“I know he’s been a dick to you—kind of a lot—but I don’t think it’s out of genuine malice. I think you intimidate him a little bit, and he doesn’t really know what to do with that so he teases you. But I don’t intimidate him, so he’s able to really… be himself around me. And he’s been really nice to me, actually. He listens to me. So I don’t want to diminish the not-so-nice feelings you have towards each other, but I do think that you could maybe try to get along? Pretty please?” He tacks on the end because he knows Colt’s a sucker for his puppy-dog eyes.

Colt closes his eyes as his leg starts to bounce more aggressively. “Fine,” he grits out eventually. “I will… try to be nicer. But only if he tries more.”

Ryland breaks into a grin. “Really?”

“Whatever,” Colt says.

Ryland hugs him.

“Ryder.”

“Seavers.”

“Geez Louise, can you people be normal for two seconds?”

Colt bristles and holds out his hands in exasperation. “I just said his name!”

Tom nods in agreement.

Ryland sighs. “Now you shake hands and apologize to each other.” He swore, it was easier teaching middle schoolers.

Tom rolls his eyes but holds out a hand and puts on his best actor smile. Colt takes it begrudgingly and squeezes just barely too hard. Tom squeezes back.

“If you hurt him, I’ll murder you.” Colt says. Ryland runs his hands down his face.

“Well, if you hurt him, I’ll murder you.” Tom fires back.

Colt shakes his head. “Why would I hurt him?”

“Just, if- just if you do, then I’ll…” he glances at Ryland, who raises an eyebrow in a very teacher-like fashion. “I won’t be nice to you. That’s for sure.”

“Oh, okay. That’s threatening.”

They’re still shaking hands.