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Tom Ryder likes being the center of attention.
He loves it, actually. Craves it. Needs it. Whatever fits best.
That’s how he always lived. Tom Ryder without drama isn’t Tom Ryder. It’s his brand, his image he spent so much time perfecting.
But what he loves more is being the center of Ryland's attention.
The second he met that man, Tom knew he would do anything to get even the slightest hint of his attention. He was ready to beg for it.
And god knows Tom Ryder doesn’t beg.
Call him obsessed or whatever, but if Ryland had asked him to jump off a cliff back then, Tom would most likely have done it without a second thought if it meant making the man look at him.
Three years later he finds that he still doesn’t get tired of being on the receiving end of those gorgeous eyes of his.
He also finds that he would still jump off a cliff if Ryland asked him to.
See, the thing about Ryland is that he likes to understand things, he likes to study things until he knows what they are, what they’re made of, and what they do. He’s a scientist, after all.
But when his eyes are on Tom, studying him like he would to a cell or whatever scientists study, he is…ecstatic ? Giddy ? Figuratively wagging his tail like a dog ? All of the above ?
Hard to say.
Ryland’s gaze is just so, so heavy. It’s like he knows everything about Tom just by looking at him, like Tom’s a riddle only he knows the answer to.
To anyone else, it would be slightly uncomfortable, but to Tom, it’s incredibly arousing.
Being married to Ryland meant he could do something about it.
Now that he’s legally allowed, Tom never wants to stop touching him. He never wants Ryland to stop touching him.
Truthfully he’s never been more of himself ever since he met Ryland.
On a random day, this guy - this incredibly, beautifully amazing guy - crashed into Tom’s life and showed him what it’s like to be himself, and not what his fans want him to be.
If there’s one thing he doesn’t regret, it’s chasing after that guy in the hopes for his number. And look where he is now: Married, with a dog - Jean-Claude, of course. Ryland forced him to bring the poor dog back to LA because (and he quotes) “He needs his father, Tom. You can’t leave him in Sydney, that’s cruel.” And who was he to deny him ? - and the job he always wanted.
He couldn’t dream of a better life-
“Tom !”
The actor almost drops his script when a loud and familiar voice yells from somewhere behind him.
He turns around just in time to see Gail coming over with her phone pressed to her ear, focused on whoever’s on the line with her.
“Tom, for Christ's sake, I’ve been calling you for 5 minutes, what were you doing ?,” she asks, covering the top of her phone so the other person couldn't hear.
“Thinking,” Tom shrugs. He’s been staring at his wedding ring all this time but he knows better than to say it to her unless he wants to be teased to death.
“Yeah well, you can skip that part and directly go home. There’s a storm coming, and we definitely can’t do anything in these conditions,” Gail tells him, and Tom groans.
Don’t get him wrong, he’s very happy to go home, but they were supposed to start the shooting a week ago.
However, due to an unlucky course of events, they postponed it to the next day, then they postponed it again, and again, and again. And now Tom thinks he could do the entire movie in his sleep because of how many times he re-read the script.
Even today, they had to wait until afternoon because there’s been some problem with the cameras.
Secretly, Tom thinks the set might be cursed.
“Wait,” he says, because he’s been too focused on the second part of her sentence, that he forgot about the first, “Did you say ‘storm’ ?”
Gail sighs, seemingly very annoyed that Tom disturbs her phone call.
He couldn’t care less, he’s the one who pays her after all. Also, he couldn’t care less about whoever she’s on the phone with.
“Yes, I did, just look up at the sky and see for yourself. Now if you’ll excuse me…,” she slips away without much fight from Tom’s part because he’s too busy staring at the gray-ish clouds above him.
How had he not noticed ? Even the wind picked up. That’s usually a sign that a storm’s coming.
Tom swallows dryly, staring down at the script still in his hands.
His very sweaty hands.
He needs to go home. Right fucking now. The last thing he wants is to be outside when it starts raining.
So Tom starts walking to his car - almost running, if he’s being honest -, ignoring the rapid beating of his heart, and praying that nobody stops him from reaching his destination.
“Hey, Ryder, wait up !”
He feels like throwing a tantrum. Seems appropriate. Instead, he keeps walking. Whoever’s calling him can wait.
Colt fucking Seavers falls into step beside him, because everything seems to be against Tom today.
“You mind giving this to Ry when you get home ? He forgot it at my place yesterday.”
Seavers hands him Ryland’s phone charger, and Tom shoves it in his jacket’s pocket.
When he reaches his car, Seavers is still there, and he’s looking at him with this insufferable glint in his eyes that annoys Tom to no end.
“Woah, who peed in your cereal box ?”
The actor grips the car door’s handle with a shaky hand, and takes a deep breath to calm his nerves.
And this time, when he looks at Seavers, the stuntman’s smile visibly falters.
“Seriously, are you alright ? You look kinda pale,” he takes a step closer and reaches out as if to put a hand on his shoulder.
And that’s Tom’s cue to leave. He’s in no condition to react accordingly to the guy’s sudden act of kindness. And even less seeing him concerned about him.
It’s just not right.
So he opens the car door, starts the car and drives off before Seavers can do anything.
Sure, he doesn’t want Ryland’s brother to hate him, but he definitely doesn’t want to cry in front of him.
Because that’s what he’s fighting not to. Crying.
He’s not afraid of storms. Really he’s not.
He’s just afraid of all the memories it brings up.
By the time he gets home, it starts raining. Heavy, loud rain crashing down, mocking him in the worst way possible.
“Shooting was postponed ?,” Ryland asks him the second he steps into the living room.
“How d’you know ?,” Tom removes his shoes, throwing them somewhere in the room and laying on the couch with his head on Ryland’s lap, mindful of Jean-Claude sleeping peacefully at his feet.
“Seems…pretty obvious.”
As if on cue, the thunder rumbles from beyond the window, and Tom shudders.
“Still afraid of storms ?,” Ryland runs his fingers through Tom’s hair, and the latter closes his eyes, feeling much more safe now that he’s in the comfort of his husband’s - because he can say that now, can you imagine it ? - arms.
“Not afraid.”
“Right. Uncomfortable,” Ryland teases. He knows how Tom gets when there’s a storm, but since he’s an insufferable, beautiful, gorgeous asshole, he makes fun of him. Gently, but still.
“By the way, here,” the actor digs into his pocket and hands out Ryland’s phone charger, desperate for him to drop the subject, “Seavers asked me to give this back to you.”
“Oh, thanks.”
Ryland takes it and puts it aside.
They stay like this for a moment, watching whatever’s playing on TV and listening - much to Tom’s disarray - to the sky crackling and rumbling with each lightning strike that hits the ground.
“Why are you scared of it ? The storm, I mean,” Ryland asks, definitely not dropping the subject.
“I don’t know,” Tom shrugs. He knows why. He fucking knows why, but he’s not ready to say it out loud.
“I’m being serious, here”
“Me too”
Ryland sighs, and Tom closes his eyes again, weighing the pros and the cons.
Pros: He says it to someone.
Cons: He says it to someone.
Great.
Guess not being ready isn’t an option right now.
“It was storming the day my dad died,” Tom winces, he hadn’t meant to say it like that. Then again, there’s something about Ryland that makes him wanna spill his guts.
The hand in his hair pauses for a second before resuming, seemingly getting over the shock.
“You never told me that,” Ryland says, whisper-like.
“I never told anyone that.”
“Okay….okay, you wanna talk about it ?”
Tom sighs, getting more comfortable on the couch.
“There’s not much to tell. Car accident, my dad didn’t make it out. That’s pretty much it.”
Ryland hums, “How was he like ? Your dad ?”
Tom reaches down and pets Jean-Claude, because he just has to do something, “He was the best dad ever. The whole package, you know ? Supportive about my career when my mom wasn’t, funny but in the dad way, so not really funny,” he chuckles, remembering all those times his dad would tell a joke so bad he just had to laugh, “And he liked science, too.”
“Yeah ?,” Tom knows that Ryland’s smiling without even looking at him.
“Yeah, he would’ve loved you. He used to say that his biggest dream was to be an astronaut, that he would pay a fortune to go to Mars if it was possible.”
“Oh, we definitely would’ve gotten along,” Ryland laughs and Tom turns around so he could stare up at him.
Now that he’s started, he has no intention of leaving the story at that.
“When my mom got the call from the hospital, I was looking out the window. I used to love storms, you know ? Watching the rain and the lightning was…I don’t know, calming,” he stares at the ceiling, because he can’t bear to look at Ryland’s knowing eyes, “But when she told me what happened - as much as you can tell to a 10 year-old - looking at the storm suddenly wasn’t as appealing as before,” despite desperately fighting it, Tom feels a tear rolling down the side of his face.
“Well,” Ryland says after a small silence, reaching out to wipe that tear away, “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that fear is usually easier to carry when shared. Grief, too.”
Tom hums, only to realise that he hasn’t worried about the storm ever since he started talking with Ryland. He’s been so caught up in what they're saying that he almost forgot about it. His hands stopped shaking, and breathing is way easier than back when he was on set.
Maybe Ryland’s right.
Who is he kidding ? Ryland’s always right.
“Hey, let’s go to bed, okay ?”
Tom blinks and looks at Ryland’s watch.
“It’s 5pm ?”
“So what ? We can take a nap until the storm's over. Plus, since when don’t you jump on the idea of going to bed with me ?”
Like he said, Ryland’s always right.
“Good point,” he says before getting up, pulling the teacher with him.
When they step into the bedroom, Tom almost expects them to drop the nap idea, have sex and go on with their afternoon, especially when Ryland starts pulling his jacket and pants off him.
Except they don’t.
Ryland takes off his shirt, taking his time to kiss every part of Tom he can reach until he finally gives him and kisses him.
It’s slow, agonizingly sweet, and it’s everything Tom didn’t know he needed.
It’s almost as good as the kisses they share when they are about to have sex. And that says a lot about how great it is.
Tom almost misses it when Ryland shoves at him to get on the bed. Which he does, very willingly.
It’s not night but the sky’s dark enough to make it look like it, and for a second he feels the same way he did back when he was 10: calm.
Maybe it’s the storm, or maybe it’s just Ryland. He treats him like nobody else ever did: like a human being, and Tom often finds himself surprised by it, even if they’ve been dating for 2 years already (and married for 3 months - Married, yes, he’s so excited just by thinking about it).
Tom used to think this kind of life wasn’t for him. But oh was he so wrong.
“I knew it,” Ryland says, laying on his side so he could look at him.
“What ?,” Tom mimics his position, and takes his hand.
“That there was more to it. I saw how freaked out you were the last time you saw a spider-”
“Shut up,” Tom warns, even if he can’t help but grinning like an idiot.
“-so when I first saw your reaction to a storm, I knew it was more than the typical irrational fear.”
“You’re awfully observant,” Tom says, kissing his knuckles, lingering on his finger wearing their wedding ring like he wasn’t bothered (in a good way) by that fact.
“I just like watching you,” Ryland whispers before reaching out and kissing Tom again.
Tom’s not good at reading between the lines, but he has the feeling that this kiss is more of a promise, than anything else. A promise that, as long as Ryland’s here, he doesn’t have to be scared of anything.
And for the first time in a long time, Tom actually doesn’t mind the rumble of the thunder.
He might actually find it comforting.