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At thirty-one years old Ryland Grace had accomplished several things the average person could never dream of, and he took deep pride in the fact.
Of course, his doctorate in what was objectively the most interesting field to study, molecular biology, was the first and most prominent to come to mind. There was the fact he’d completed a dissertation that would shape how people in his field perceived things for the rest of time… and the fact that the dissertation had caused enough of a stir Ryland would be surprised if he was invited to a UNESCO conference anytime soon. Fuck them.
His most impressive feat, though, had to be coming to Colt’s set the most hungover he’d been since the panel that decided if he deserved his three favorite letters after his name: PHD. Rather, it wasn’t simply the state of being hell warmed over (in a microwave, boiling on the outside and still ice in the middle), but the state of being hell warmed over and coming to his brother’s crazy fucking job, that he really impressed himself with.
And he meant crazy. Based on what Colt had said to him the night before, sober, because suddenly Colt wanted to be the responsible one, he was going to be doing a car spin, like, in the air. And then he’d have to crawl out the car, on fire, and pretend to burn to death.
Now, Ryland’s doctorate wasn’t in psychology, but there had to be something wrong for someone to consider doing that shit their full-time career. Pity it seemed that both his brother’s had their wires crossed somewhere, since Court was somewhere doing something with some government or another. He’d long since stopped asking for details he’d never get.
The last postcard he’s sent had been of a no-where village in Germany, and he hadn’t written anything on the back besides Ryland and Colt’s name followed by:
They don’t to air conditioner over here.
He hadn’t even signed his name, but Colt had pinned it to his fridge with a magnet because Ryland had kept the last one, which hadn’t had any message, so the whole situation was a bit unfair-
All of that was besides the point.
It was nine AM and much too early for Ryland considering he was both hungover and jet lagged from his flight back from Denmark.
He’d been waved on past security, though one of them had whispered to the other while Ryland walked through: “Didn’t Sevear’s get here at seven?”
Ryland made a mental note to tattle on them for not checking his ID.
It wasn’t hard to find the general direction he needed to go, the orchard that was the back drop for the car flip had a few massive tents pitched for production and cast and whatever else they needed to have on hand to make it possible to film a shitty horror movie.
Ryland had been furiously typing into his phone since long before the taxi dropped him off, stupid fucking flip phone making him type the same key a hundred times to get a single letter. His to-be tweet was something he’d wanted to post the night before, but Colt hadn’t let him, telling him on no uncertain terms that he would regret it, Ry, you don’t burn a bridge just ‘cause it’s wobbling right now!
Sure. Well, it was the next day and Ryland only regretted the fact he hadn’t already called the head of his field out for his moronic thought process on Twitter. So he finally typed it out and hit post.
Ryland Grace, PHD
@ry.grace_theoneontheright
and if i said the carbon ur made of would be better off as a common toad who made the mistake of picking lake superior to hibernate in? are u gonna kick me out of academia all together or just another fucking conference?
11/12/2014
Someone put their arm around his shoulder, and Ryland rose a single brow, turning to look at the smug face of the guy Colt had been complaining about.
Tom Ryder.
“Colt did mention one of his brother’s would be visiting, which one are you again?”
There was no way this guy was that stupid.
“Ryland.”
“Well, Ryland. Bet you’re excited to be on set with the Tom Ryder, huh?” He leaned a bit onto Ryland and then away, pulling Ryland’s shoulders with him. “I’m a bit too busy to give you the tour right now, but, you know,” He leaned in conspiratorially, and Ryland could smell the coffee on his breath. “If you’re good I could probably manage to show you around at lunch-”
Ryland kicked his ankle, Ryder buckled a bit, and Ryland shoved his arm off, wishing he’d taken a pair on sunglasses, because everything was far too bright.
“Is there a world where you’re capable of being more obnoxious?” He asked rhetorically. When Ryder opened his mouth to respond, Ryland sighed in disappointment. He didn’t notice Ryder’s eyes widen, his mouth shutting as he swallowed harshly. “Jesus fucking Christ, has no one taught you to keep your hands to yourself? I find it hard to believe you went this long with no one teaching you any fucking manners.” He brought a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose, wondering absently how long it would take for his pounding headache to fade.
Ryder made some kind of sound, probably to bite back, but his mouth shut again when Ryland shot him a look over his glasses.
“I came here to watch Colt get his by a car.” Or flip a car. Be lit on fire. It really could be anything at this point. “Not deal with his…” What was the word? “Misbehaving” Close enough. “Co-worker.” Ryder nodded so quickly Ryland wondered for a moment if one could give themselves whiplash.
They both seemed to be at an impasse, Ryder stood opposite him still as a statue, eyes frozen on Ryland as if waiting for him to blow up again. Maybe he’d been too harsh? He glanced at the man, who began babbling something about being able to take Ryland to his brother when he began to walk away.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Ryland cut him off, voice no longer harsh. Well, still harsh, but no longer directed at the other man.
“No, I mean-” Ryder began walking to keep up with Ryland. “No, Doctor Grace,” So he had known who Ryland was. “I can be- I’m free for the next half hour, and I know where Colt is-” He cleared his throat, cocky smile coming back.
“Do you?” Ryland checked his texts to see if his brother had told him where he’d be. No such luck.
“I do!” He pointed behind him with his thumb. “He’s probably getting ready, he might be busy while he gets the safety gear on, so I could- I could keep you company. Doctor Grace.” He added Ryland’s name at the end, and it wasn’t the first time someone had assumed that they needed to call him by his title, so he let it go. Though he couldn’t help the raised brow he sent the other, who only smiled oddly back.
“...Alright, but I’m going to need a coffee.”
Ryder lit up, and maybe Colt was being dramatic about not getting along with the man, because Ryder looked pleased to have gotten back on Ryland’s good side, which would only make sense if he and Colt were actually friends.
“I can get you one.” Ryder immediately offered. “Craft’s- craft’s and services, I mean,”
“I know what craft’s means, Ryder.”
“Oh, obviously. Ah.” He laughed a bit, and Ryland might actually be an asshole because it was strained. “Craft’s should have fresh stuff. We could…?” Ryland waited for him to finish his sentence. He didn’t.
“Use your words.”
“We could grab coffee now. If you want. Before I take you to Colt.”
As annoying as it would be to spend any amount of time with the other man, he really wanted some coffee.
He sighed. “Lead the way then, Ryder.”
“Call me Tom.”
Okay, Ryland knew he should get his bad mood in order, but the guy was just so obnoxious, it was like he wanted to annoy Ryland.
“No.”
He was having a shitty week, sue him!
And if the worst thing he did was take out said shitty mood on some guy who seemed determined to get on his last nerve? Well, he could be doing things a hell of a lot worse, couldn’t he?
“Okay!” Ryder agreed instantly. “Is that for, like, if I’m good, or something?”
Oh.
Ha. Ryder was referencing what he’d said earlier, about Ryland having to behave to earn a tour. As if Ryland would ever cause a scene. Maybe the guy could be good company. Interesting company, at least.
“Something like that.” Ryland quirked a smile. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that tour later, if you’re still offering.”
Ryder lit up.
Yeah. Maybe Ryland was being too harsh earlier. Maybe his headache was just getting better, but Ryder seemed a lot more pleasant to be around.
The day Ryland turned thirty-two he decided to bring Colt lunch on his set. He wasn’t scheduled for anything, but he was allowed on set and Ryland supposed Colt still found the industry shiny and new since he tended to go in even when he wasn’t strictly needed.
He had stopped somewhere for burgers; Ryland had gone to a new place that was closer to set in the hopes of them still being warm when he found his brother.
Security let him in, though they checked his ID this time, and now that he wasn’t hungover he did feel a bit bad about snitching on them. Past the various blockades that marked the boundaries of the set, Ryland could see Ryder, in costume for whatever scene they were working on. Though there was no camera on him, and he was standing with some PA, looking more annoyed than he probably had a right to be considering the princess treatment he was being given according to Colt.
“Ryder!” He called, waving a hand to get his attention.
The poor PA looked grateful when he made his way over.
Ryder himself had lit up in a smirk when he saw it was Ryland who’d called him.
“Well, doctor, I can’t say I’m surprised you came to visit me considering our last conversation-”
“Have you seen Colt? I brought him lunch.”
Ryder blinked. “Lunch? You brought… you brought Colt lunch?” He looked down and saw the paper bag Ryland was holding. His shocked expression pulled back into a smirk. “Of course I know where Colt is. We’re buddies, he and I. You know, it’s really so sweet of you to bring him lunch, but he’s a bit busy right now. Maybe we could go for a walk while-”
“But he’s not doing anything today?” Ryland pulled out his phone, double checked, and no, Colt wasn’t doing anything on set other than ‘networking.’ Which Ryland expected actually meant flirting with someone. “Yeah, looks like he’s free.”
“I’m sure he could wait,” Ryder practically purred, leaning in close.
Ryland leaned back as he leaned forward, doing some math in his head.
The last time they’d spoken Ryder hadn’t-
Ah.
Maybe he’d run the numbers wrong?”
“C’mon, doctor.” Ryder’s eyes gleamed, pressing closer, seemingly taking advantage of Ryland’s shock.
Well, Ryland couldn’t have that, could he? How much shit would Colt give him if he found out Ryland let the jackass flirt with him.
Ryland gave him an extremely unimpressed look, one that didn’t make Ryder frown, to Ryland’s shock. Shock that was quickly flipping to amusement when Ryder looked thrilled to be so scrutinized.
He opened his mouth, and Ryland nearly laughed as Ryder’s pupils dilated at the smirk beginning to tug at Ryland’s lips. No, he had to keep it together. He’d laugh about it with Colt later. Well, maybe. He shut his mouth and pulled his phone out, clicking his number one speed dial, he held the phone to his ear.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“I’m at set with lunch for you.”
“Fuck, yeah. Thanks, where on set are you?”
“I can meet you near craft’s.”
“Kay. I’ll be there in a second.”
Ryland flipped the phone closed, and took in Ryder’s disappointed expression.
“Well, are you gonna walk me to craft’s?”
Ryder’s face brightened. Ryland tried not to find it too funny when the other man tried to steer them off course, when he leaned in, looked at Ryland through his eye-lashes and mentioned he could always come visit his trailer.
“Hmm.” Ryland hummed, noncommittal. In the privacy of his mind he find finding the situation more and more bemusing.
Sure, there were people who flirted with everyone, but Ryder had never bothered with Colt. He couldn’t even argue it was because they worked together since he’d heard about Ryder hooking up with his co-star long before he’d first come to set.
Whatever. It was fun to be flirted with, and it was just as fun to shoot the guy down.
It probably wasn’t healthy, at least not without confirming that Ryder was just flirting to flirt, he wasn’t exactly trying to lead anyone on after all. But it was Tom Ryder. The day he was genuinely interested in Ryland Grace of all people was the day the world ended.
“Are you sure? Because I could be persuaded to be good, you know. If I had the proper encouragement.”
Oh, wow. He tried not to laugh. That was almost embarrassing.
“Why don’t you go get Colt and I something to drink?”
“Why would I get Colt-”
“I thought you just said you could be good? This is me, encouraging you.” Ryder looked at him, wide eyed. “Colt’ll take any soda. I’ll take a water.” He reached out and patted Ryder’s chest once, twice, and pushed him away on the third. “Unless you really can’t-”
Ryder turned on his heel and fled. It didn’t really shock Ryland that he backed down the moment a guy flirted back. It was probably easy for the women to do so, but things were still… unknown, for lack of a better word, when it came to men flirting with men. You could never be sure if they’d hit you or hit on you back.
Don’t ask Ryland how he knew.
He found Colt and they took a seat at a shitty folding table. The burgers were still warm.
When Ryder came back through, dropping off a cold bottle of water and a warm Dr. Pepper, Ryland considered the fact that maybe flirting was how he made friends.
Ryland wouldn’t be opposed to one of those. And even if he really was flirting because he found Ryland attractive, there was nothing wrong with him having some fun and flirting back. Or using it to his advantage.
The water was refreshing.
The air in the bar was stuffy.
It wasn’t the sort of place that movies tended to hold wrap parties at. And this wasn’t the wrap party, so that made sense. This was a handful or so of production members Colt had gotten close with at a dive bar on the side of the freeway just far enough out that it wasn’t choking busy on a Saturday night.
All of that made sense. Two-dollar shots and pool tables and fries crispy enough Ryland faintly wondered how long they’d left them in the firer- made sense.
What didn’t make sense was Tom Ryder coming in with a beaming grin an hour into their night as if there wasn’t a much bigger wrap party being held at the same time in some club that actually cared who knew who. He walked through the others, waving and patting backs until he got to the bar, ignoring or not noticing their confused expressions.
“Hey there, doctor Grace.” Ryder wrapped an arm around Ryland’s shoulder, and he only didn’t push him off because he was clearly already drunk, and he didn’t want the other man to injure himself falling to the floor.
“Ryder.” He greeted, maneuvering the other man to sit at the bar stool next to him. He flagged down the bartender, a nice enough women who’d been serving them since they came in. “A water for him, please.”
“No.” Ryder whined. “I saw shots, Ry-Ry you were doing a shot when I came in, I wanna do that-”
“Water.” Ryland repeated. She nodded.
It was true, but that had been Ryland’s last shot, and Ryder had clearly had enough already.
Ryder whined again, wordless as he crossed his arms on the bar and let his head fall down.
“Calm down, you’re already drunk.” Ryland rested a hand on his shoulder, patting it as if it would comfort the man. It worked well-enough, the man leaned closer to Ryland, half leaning on him when a large glass of water was slid in front of him. “Why’d you crash?”
“’Was boring.”
Ryland laughed lightly, his hand coming up from Ryder’s shoulder to the back of his head, angle too awkward otherwise. “I don’t see how this’ll be any less boring. And it seems like you’ve already had your share of fun tonight, no?”
“There’s all sorts of fun.” Ryder pressed his head further into Ryland’s hand which had been, without thought, carding through the loose curls. “I could show you, doctor-”
“I’ve seen your fun. I don’t need any pills, thanks.” He’d done plenty of that in college. More than enough.
“C’mon, Ryland.” He was whining again, and Ryland tugged at his hair like he would if Colt was the one annoying him.
“Quit it.” Like a scolded dog, Ryder whined, but he kept his mouth shut. Ryland sighed. “Drink your water, try to sober up a bit before you drink anything else.”
Ryder reached for the glass, but only pulled it close, the precipitation from the ice leaving a trail behind the cup on the wooden bar.
“Besides pills.” Ryder finally said.
“Hmm?” Ryland was a bit busy watching his brother nearly whack someone with a pool stick as he cheered, not realizing he’d sent the other person’s ball down instead of his own, losing the game.
“There’s more fun. Besides pills. And this.” He gestured to Ryland’s empty shot glass. Ryland winced, that’s for sure going to bruise. Colt was laughing, though. “Ryland.” Ryder reached up to his hair and pulled on Ryland’s sleeve. “You’re not listening to me.”
Ryland tugged again, gently. Ryder swallowed. “You’re not listening to me. Drink your water.”
Ryder looked, for a moment, like he was going to. Then he frowned. “What do I get?”
“What?”
“If I do that.” Ryder’s eyes weren’t so much annoyed as impatient. “What do I get? I’ve been good, I’ve been so fucking good, Ry. Did what you asked, didn’t I? I’m good, Ry, I’m-”
Eyes wide Ryland went back to stroking his hair, trying to sooth him from whatever this was. “Oh, shhh, shhh. You’re good.” He glanced around, but no one was paying them any mind. That was good, since Ryder would probably be mortified by what he was saying in the morning.
“I am?” Ryder leaned into his hand again. “But-”
“You want to keep being good?” Ryder nodded jerkily. Ryland pushed his water closer, remembering Ryder asking him to use his first name all those months before. “Drink your water, Tom.”
The sooner he sobered up the sooner he’d go back to the funny if a bit of an asshole guy Ryland almost considered a friend.
Tom drank.
“Excuse me,” The bartender turned back to him. “Is the kitchen closed?”
She checked the clock behind her. “It closes in fifteen minutes.”
“Alright, thanks.”
She nodded and went back to wiping down part of the counter someone had spilled something on.
Tom was half way done chugging the glass when Ryland pulled it from his lips. “Slow down, you’ll make yourself sick.” Tom nodded, eyes still wide. “Do you want fries or something else? We’ve gotta order it now.” Tom looked befuddled. “Water is step one.” Ryland explained. “Step two is food.”
“I didn’t ask for food.”
“You didn’t ask for water either.”
“...Do they have onion rings?”
There was no way they didn’t, so Ryland ordered some as well as two orders of fries, one for himself and another for when Colt saw his fries and got sad when he realized the kitchen was closed.
Tom’s water was empty when Ryland turned back to him, the other man’s eyes wide, boring into Ryland’s… why was he staring at him? Oh!
“Uh. Good job.” Tom relaxed. Okay, this was fine. A bit like babysitting, and Ryland had always been good with kids, so he could do this. Whatever this was. “I’m sure you’ll start feeling better soon.”
“I could make you feel better.” Tom said, somewhere between a threat and a proposition.
Ryland laughed. “Try again when you’re sober.”
“Maybe I will.” He muttered, dropping his head back into his arms. He reached up to pull Ryland’s hand back into his hair.
“How’d you know we were here, anyways?”
“Colt posted.”
That did make sense.
When their food came out Colt did, indeed, ask about ordering his own. Ryland was already pushing the basket toward him when the bartender answered.
“You’ve already got fries, moron.”
Colt blinked down in front of him. “...When did that happen?”
“Who knows?” Ryland smirked, no longer even tipsy, which made Colt all the more entertaining.
“Ryland ordered them.” Tom said, muffled by his arms.
Colt seemed to notice him for the first time since he’d made his entrance. “Huh. Are you petting him, Ry?”
“He’s not feeling well.”
Colt frowned, even as he swayed on his feet. “I can, I can call him a cab and get him home?” He seemed to have forgetting about the fries until Ryland nudged them again. “After I eat.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Ryland waved him off. “You focus on getting yourself home. I’ll get him home.”
His brother, who hadn’t actually wanted to leave the party so quickly grinned, tugging Ryland into a quick half hug, a bit loser than normal with how drunk he was. “You’re the best.” He took his fries with him when he left.
Turning back to Tom, Ryland was no longer phased by him staring at him. “You’re gonna take me home?”
“When you’re done with your onion rings, yeah.”
Tom shoved three in his mouth.
Ryland dropped by Colt on his way out with Tom, making the other promise to call when he got home.
He got Tom to say his address and allowed him to lean his head on Ryland’s shoulder, arms looping around Ryland’s left arm to pull him closer. It made getting out of the car difficult, but not impossible. Ryland tipped the man a little extra since Tom had not been wearing a seat belt.
Tom let them into his apartment building.
“’M gonna get something nicer.” He pattered, still drunk enough to trip over his own feet. “When I get famous.” He opened the door to his apartment.
Ryland thought it was already nice enough.
He set Tom on the couch and reassured him that he’d be right back. Tom’s kitchen was easy to go through, ignoring the dozen or so post-it notes to find a glass and fill it with tap water. Tom was fiddling with his hands when he came back, but he brightened up at the sight of Ryland.
“You’re back!”
“I am.” He pulled the other back to his feet. “Where’s your room, Tom?” The closest one, apparently. It was messy, like Ryland had expected it to be. He set the water on the beside table, moving aside a few things to find space. Tom fell into the unmade bed. “Alright.” Ryland laughed. “Get some sleep-”
“What?” Tom sat bolt upright. “But you- you took me home?”
“I did. Now you’re going to sleep.” Ryland smiled, stepping closer. He put one hand on his chest, pushed him back down.
Tom reached to hold his wrist in place as he leaned back onto the bed, pulling Ryland to loom over him, standing at the side of the bed.
“I’m sober.” Tom lied. “And I was good. I- the water and the food-”
“You were good.” Ryland agreed, letting himself be held in place. Tom was almost sweet like this. “You are good.” He corrected, hoping to keep him from getting all worked up again. “You did such a good job listening to me, and now you need to sleep.”
“No.”
“Why?” His glasses were beginning to slide down his nose. Before he could reach for them, Tom let go of his wrist, hand coming up to push them back into place, pupils blown. He went back to holding Ryland’s wrist. “Thanks.”
Tom nodded. “You’re leaving?”
“I will in a few minutes. I’m going to grab you some ibuprofen first. Can you tell me where you keep it?”
He did, and Ryland came back with the bottle. He tipped a few out into his palm, setting them beside the glass. He left the bottle, though.
“You could stay.” Tom offered. “I’m good. You said. I’ll be good. You can stay.” He took Ryland’s wrist back.
“You’re already good.”
“But you’re leaving.”
“I am.”
“I’ll be sober next time.” Tom looked like he meant it, at least he did in the moment.
Ryland huffed out a laugh. “Is that so?”
Highly unlikely. Though he’d only come to set high once or twice from what he’d heard, off set was a whole other beast. Hell, Ryland had seen several bottles of liquor on Tom’s counter and could actively smell weed somewhere.
“I like this better.”
“Being drunk?”
“No. Yes. No-yes. I thought I liked you being mean. I like this more. I’m good?”
Oh. Ryland’s mouth dried. He swallowed.
He sat on the edge of the bed, let his free hand card through his hair one more time. “So good.” He confirmed.
“Still want you to be mean.”
“Oh?”
“Just not now.”
“I won’t.” He brushed his hair off his forehead. “You did good, remember? Why would I be mean?”
“Because it’s hot as fuck.”
Ryland laughed, pulling his hand from Tom’s grip. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, pulling his other hand with him when he stood up.
Tom’s face was burning red.
“I’ll be sober next time.” He repeated. “And-”
“And what?”
Tom smiled. “You’ll have to find out, won’t you, Doctor Grace?”
Colt called as Ryland left the apartment building to let him know he’d gotten home safe.
Ryland didn’t really think much about Tom Ryder after that.
It strayed to him a few times those first few days, which was easy to understand with how odd their… friendship… was. By that he meant it clearly wasn’t a friendship, and Ryder was actually interested in him in some way.
Because Ryland had been bitchy to him.
And that was something to think about. It wasn’t that it was attractive, more that it baffled him. Still, people had their own preferences, regardless of how Ryland felt about it. Besides, would he really have done things differently if he had known he was playing into some kind of fantasy?
He went back and forth on that. If he did he wouldn’t be half-dreading the next time he ran into Ryder, but he wouldn’t have gotten the fun of teasing the man. If he did everything the same, well- that’s the version he was living through, so it was a null point.
“Come on. Dan asked about you.” Colt complained. “Just come for an hour. Take a break from studying.”
The studying in question was for a test he needed to take for his teaching license.
And he really did need a break, he was practically ready to tear his hair out at this point.
“Alright. Yeah, I’ll come.”
Colt cheered, gave him an address and time, and hung up.
He pushed himself out of his chair and towards his bathroom. He needed to shower. He didn’t need the extended amount of time to think without anything else to do, though.
It wasn’t that Ryder wasn’t an attractive guy. He knew he was, if only because he was cast in movie after movie and had people coming up to ask for his number frequently enough. So it wasn’t that, even if Ryland couldn’t conceptualize what about him was ‘attractive’ in a physical sense. But then again, he’d never been able to pick out what it was that people found hot about so-called hot people.
He didn’t hate the guy’s personality, though. If he got past his abrasive nature, he was fun to talk to, obviously fun to flirt with, and didn’t shy away from whatever people considered taboo to talk about in public. He cared about his job, and as Ryland had seen first hand, he could be incredibly earnest when he wanted to.
All together Ryland should be thrilled Ryder was into him. And he was! Well, he was flattered. Kind of. But he didn’t feel badly about the man being interested in him, even in the odd way he expressed it.
And it was kind of sweet, how much he wanted to do what Ryland said.
He was out of the shower by then and allowed the thought to fade into the back of his mind as he got dressed for the party.
Ryland knew how they worked. People started showing up an hour after the start time, so Ryland would show up at seven sharp, stay until eight, and slip out the door as the real crown began to show up. Deal fulfilled.
Colt was there, already, when Ryland knocked on the door to his brother’s apartment and let himself in.
“Thank god you’re a freak. Set these up for me.” He tossed a few streamers into Ryland’s arms, nodding at a roll of tape on the coffee table. “If you’re going to dip before the party even starts this is the least you can do.”
He rolled his eyes, but stuck the streamers up in corners and doorways.
“Why are you hosting Irene’s birthday, anyway?”
“Her house is being fumigated. Roaches.” Colt’s face twisted in disgust.
“Ah.”
Irene was head of make-up for the romance film (with a truly surprising amount of stunt work in it) Colt was working on.
“Yeah.” Colt agreed. “She’s out picking the pizza up, but she should be back soon.”
“Cool.”
Irene came in with Ryder, who had a little gift bag balance on top of half of the pizza boxes.
“Hey, man.” Colt greeted. “You can drop those anywhere. I didn’t know you were coming today.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Except he was looking straight at Ryland when he said it, expression open. Pleased that Ryland was, in fact, there.
By eight Ryland was doing a final sweep of Colt’s apartment, picking up a few paper plates and cups to toss before he left.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Colt found him, turning him by his shoulder. “You’re leaving?”
“I said an hour. It’s been an hour.”
“We have cards against humanity, don’t you want to play?” Colt shook him gently.
“No.”
“Boring. Buzzkill. Loser. I hate you.” He pushed Ryland away, towards the door. “Get home safe. Love you.”
“Love you too.” Ryland laughed, stopping at the door to find his jacket somewhere amid everyone else’s.
Behind him some small commotion was brewing, but it settled down quickly enough, so Ryland kept his focus on finding his jacket.
“You’re leaving?” Ryder asked, closer than he needed to be to ask the question. “What a coincidence. So am I.”
He bit back a smile and gave up on his search for a moment, turning to lean against the door, crossing his arms.
Ryder was smiling, face flushed with the heat of a room filled with people. “I’m.” He paused, looking down at Ryland’s lips. “I’m sober.” His eyes focused back on Ryland’s.
He thought it over. Turned it around in his head to look at all sides of the proposition.
Ryland wasn’t made for one-night stands, he’d learned that well and true after his last relationship ended, but could that be because they were all strangers? And he knew Ryder, had known him for months at this point, and it didn’t seem like he would be leaving any time soon. Ryder was a casual sort of guy, so he didn’t need to worry about the expectation of a relationship, because there was none.
And Ryder was cute, standing across from him hopefully. His hands were held behind his back, but he must’ve been wringing them anxiously based on the micro movement of his shoulders. His adams apple bobbed as Ryland looked him up and down. Not necessarily taking in his appearance, he knew that already. But his posture was different, the way he held himself, simultaneously proud as he always was, but there was something else there. Something that Ryland would admit made him curious. He recalled their last conversation.
He met Ryder’s eyes, head tilted ever so slightly. “Am I being mean or nice?”
Ryder opened his mouth, closed it. Bit his lip.
“Better question.” Ryland corrected himself, feeling more powerful than he had a moment before. “Do you want to be good for me?”
His head bobbed up and down.
Ryland left his coat behind.