Trinity - Five Ways Ross and Jonty's Relationship Didn’t End Up and the One Way it Did
Title: Five Ways Ross and Jonty's Relationship Didn’t End Up and the One Way it Did
Characters/Pairings: Jonty/Ross, Dorian/Jonty, Jonty/OFC, Ross/OFC
Rating: R
Author’s Notes It’s dorian_mauve fault. Again. Pretty much all these scenarios were her idea, I just wrote them out. ILU baybee. <3 WHY AM I WRITING 5 THINGS FIC, I HATE 5 THINGS FIC, WTF IS WRONG WITH ME
-----------------
{one} in marriage
Jonty’s fairly certain there’s no wedding protocol saying that, if there’s no bride, it’s the groom’s responsibility to dance with his best man, but he’s had too much champagne to argue when Dorian drags him onto the dance floor, and when the band strikes up their second slow song of the evening he finds himself with his hand pressed to the small of Dorian’s back and Dorian grinning at him like an idiot. When Jonty complains in a low voice that he hadn’t expected quite so much innuendo in the toast, Dorian just laughs and says that if he’d wanted his wedding to be completely dull, he should have married someone other than Ross.
Once the song’s concluded, Jonty hands Dorian off to a pretty brunette who’s been batting her eyelashes at him all through the evening, and goes to rescue Ross from his new mother-in-law-- though not before Dorian leans in close and tells him not to open the present with the green bow until they’re alone.
Ross looks good in a suit, Jonty thinks, and the beard is starting look less out of place, and he reached out to grab Ross’s hand under the table when he sits down next to him. It’s comfortable, it’s easy, and when Ross turns to smile at him, it feels right.
{two} in tears
Once it’s over, everyone tells him he’s made the right decision, that staying wasn’t good for him, but Jonty just feels sick. It’s not like he can avoid seeing Ross, and he’s so familiar with the signs of him falling apart that he can watch it happen by degrees in the way he’s looking paler and sadder by the day.
Ross didn’t even ask him not to go. He was drowning in whatever madness had gripped him at the time, when Jonty had taken his things and left, and Jonty was fairly sure he didn’t even know who he was talking to, let alone what it meant when Jonty said ‘it’s over’ and ‘I can’t take this anymore.’
It’s been weeks since he slept alone in his own room, but he gets used to it before long. The worst is when Ross sees him and smiles before he can think about it, automatically glad to see them even though Jonty knows he’s broken his heart.
Ross was already broken, Jonty tries to tell himself. There was no way Jonty could have fixed things. Staying would only hurt them both.
There’s a funeral, later, when Ross kills himself. It’s long enough after Jonty left him that no one makes the connection, Jonty can’t avoid the guilt. If he’d said something to someone-- anyone-- earlier, maybe they would have been able to help.
When the Warden asks him if he wants to talk, he says no.
{three} in time
There’s no moment that Jonty can point to when things ended, it was more of a gradual fade that left both of them standing more or less where they’d been before, only without the passion that had kept them bound together for so long. Jonty spends less and less of his free time with Ross, and Ross stops his mild complaining about being ignored and finds other things to do. Jonty still goes to his races, but he sits in the stands now, with the other fans, and doesn’t wait for Ross so they can walk back together.
Neither of them are angry. If there had been that shove, that twist from being in love to hate, there would have been something to goad them into motion, but instead they just carried on much as they had been before, when it came to their more general habits.
Jonty doesn’t bother moving out for awhile, though their schedules change enough that they rarely see each other anymore unless one or the other is asleep. Even then, Jonty finds himself elsewhere more and more often, his late-night business meetings with Dorian turning into trysts turning into spending the night. It’s Dorian, too, in the end, who points out that they aren’t dating each other anymore, really, so maybe it was time to move out.
The fact that Ross doesn’t care at all when Jonty comes back to the room with a bite mark too high on his neck for his collar to cover really settles things, and he packs up his clothes the next day. Ross looks a little surprised, but he helps Jonty carry the boxes back to his own room and doesn’t argue.
They agree without having to say it that they were still friends, and Jonty doesn’t pull away when Ross leans to kiss him goodbye.
{four} in compromise
Ross visits whenever he can find an excuse, but his wife is far less understanding that Jonty’s is, and what time they have alone together is usually brief. They move in similar enough circles that they see each other fairly often, though when they’re in company, of course, they’re usually required to remain as escorts to their wives, so they can do little more than exchange greetings and glances across the room. It’s almost worse than not seeing each other at all.
If Jonty ever asked her, he knows Catharine would be fine with him going away for a few days with Ross-- perhaps take him out to their house in country and out of sight of anyone who might disapprove. Mrs. Bonham would never agree, of course, but it’s those kind of promises that he knows keep Ross from going mad, so he whispers them in his ear in the few moments they can steal to be alone, just so he can see Ross smile and feel his fingers tighten where they’d clenched in the front of Jonty’s shirt.
Catharine announces she’s pregnant a few weeks after their first anniversary, and Jonty calls Ross first, making him agree to be godfather before he can say anything else. Ross sounds a little sad before he hangs up, and Jonty wonders later if it might have been better to break the news gently. After all, for all the times Jonty could promise that he wanted to take Ross and run away with him, Ross knew he’d never leave a child.
It’s a girl, sweet and bright like her mother, and when Ross’s first son is born a few months later. It’s an easy excuse to come over, let the children play, and sit on the porch with Ross, just barely touching and ready to pull apart if anyone walked by.
{five} in fire
The thing about the Apocalypse is that it all falls into place in little bits as pieces and by the time anyone really gets wise to it, it’s already gathered so much momentum that there’s no stopping it. Jonty figures that Ross knew all along that this was where things were going, though he’s long ago stopped being angry at him for keeping all those secrets. Everything about him was secrets, it turned out, and hating that would just be hating Ross, an that’s never going to happen.
Everyone knows who Ross is now, though they’re all calling him Galahad like it’s a title and Jonty hates that. He’s mentioned too, occasionally, in the subdued rumors that jump from one refugee camp to another. No one is ever quite sure why he’s there, which is unsurprising seeing as Jonty does know himself. Any sane person would have fled long ago. So, Jonty decides he isn’t sane, and it makes it much easier to get by with the constant stench of rotting filling his nose and the feeling of someone else’s blood drying on his skin where Ross touches him.
There were supposed to be people Ross was fighting for, but despite all their planning, they didn’t last either. Maybe that’s irony, but Jonty can’t help but wonder what they were planning, if they were supposed to bring some sort of order to this chaos, or if they even could have. They never lived to see this world. When the time came and they ordered Ross to leave the one whom he loved and come protect them instead, he refused. That still makes Jonty smile, sometimes, when he remembers.
The fact that they’re gone doesn’t stop Ross carrying the directives they carved into his mind, though, and Jonty just follows along dully, dutifully behind him, a shadow in a gold waistcoat picking his way through the carnage.
[reality] in impact
They tell him Ross is dead, and Jonty doesn’t believe it. He sees the body, lying there like wax, and his brain won’t let him accept who it is, won’t recognize him. He keeps waiting for Ross to walk in the door, keeps looking over his shoulder expecting to see him down the hall.
Everyone’s offering him sympathy, and he wants to scream because none of them know that this isn’t right. They don’t know Ross, don’t know that he wouldn’t kill himself. Jonty insists to himself that the paranoia is unavoidable, especially after Charlotte Arc shows up with that note, and he shouldn’t be too concerned about the bottles piling up on the coffee table. Everyone’s always telling him to process his fucking grief, and he’s processing, dammit.
Characters/Pairings: Jonty/Ross, Dorian/Jonty, Jonty/OFC, Ross/OFC
Rating: R
Author’s Notes It’s dorian_mauve fault. Again. Pretty much all these scenarios were her idea, I just wrote them out. ILU baybee. <3 WHY AM I WRITING 5 THINGS FIC, I HATE 5 THINGS FIC, WTF IS WRONG WITH ME
-----------------
{one} in marriage
Jonty’s fairly certain there’s no wedding protocol saying that, if there’s no bride, it’s the groom’s responsibility to dance with his best man, but he’s had too much champagne to argue when Dorian drags him onto the dance floor, and when the band strikes up their second slow song of the evening he finds himself with his hand pressed to the small of Dorian’s back and Dorian grinning at him like an idiot. When Jonty complains in a low voice that he hadn’t expected quite so much innuendo in the toast, Dorian just laughs and says that if he’d wanted his wedding to be completely dull, he should have married someone other than Ross.
Once the song’s concluded, Jonty hands Dorian off to a pretty brunette who’s been batting her eyelashes at him all through the evening, and goes to rescue Ross from his new mother-in-law-- though not before Dorian leans in close and tells him not to open the present with the green bow until they’re alone.
Ross looks good in a suit, Jonty thinks, and the beard is starting look less out of place, and he reached out to grab Ross’s hand under the table when he sits down next to him. It’s comfortable, it’s easy, and when Ross turns to smile at him, it feels right.
{two} in tears
Once it’s over, everyone tells him he’s made the right decision, that staying wasn’t good for him, but Jonty just feels sick. It’s not like he can avoid seeing Ross, and he’s so familiar with the signs of him falling apart that he can watch it happen by degrees in the way he’s looking paler and sadder by the day.
Ross didn’t even ask him not to go. He was drowning in whatever madness had gripped him at the time, when Jonty had taken his things and left, and Jonty was fairly sure he didn’t even know who he was talking to, let alone what it meant when Jonty said ‘it’s over’ and ‘I can’t take this anymore.’
It’s been weeks since he slept alone in his own room, but he gets used to it before long. The worst is when Ross sees him and smiles before he can think about it, automatically glad to see them even though Jonty knows he’s broken his heart.
Ross was already broken, Jonty tries to tell himself. There was no way Jonty could have fixed things. Staying would only hurt them both.
There’s a funeral, later, when Ross kills himself. It’s long enough after Jonty left him that no one makes the connection, Jonty can’t avoid the guilt. If he’d said something to someone-- anyone-- earlier, maybe they would have been able to help.
When the Warden asks him if he wants to talk, he says no.
{three} in time
There’s no moment that Jonty can point to when things ended, it was more of a gradual fade that left both of them standing more or less where they’d been before, only without the passion that had kept them bound together for so long. Jonty spends less and less of his free time with Ross, and Ross stops his mild complaining about being ignored and finds other things to do. Jonty still goes to his races, but he sits in the stands now, with the other fans, and doesn’t wait for Ross so they can walk back together.
Neither of them are angry. If there had been that shove, that twist from being in love to hate, there would have been something to goad them into motion, but instead they just carried on much as they had been before, when it came to their more general habits.
Jonty doesn’t bother moving out for awhile, though their schedules change enough that they rarely see each other anymore unless one or the other is asleep. Even then, Jonty finds himself elsewhere more and more often, his late-night business meetings with Dorian turning into trysts turning into spending the night. It’s Dorian, too, in the end, who points out that they aren’t dating each other anymore, really, so maybe it was time to move out.
The fact that Ross doesn’t care at all when Jonty comes back to the room with a bite mark too high on his neck for his collar to cover really settles things, and he packs up his clothes the next day. Ross looks a little surprised, but he helps Jonty carry the boxes back to his own room and doesn’t argue.
They agree without having to say it that they were still friends, and Jonty doesn’t pull away when Ross leans to kiss him goodbye.
{four} in compromise
Ross visits whenever he can find an excuse, but his wife is far less understanding that Jonty’s is, and what time they have alone together is usually brief. They move in similar enough circles that they see each other fairly often, though when they’re in company, of course, they’re usually required to remain as escorts to their wives, so they can do little more than exchange greetings and glances across the room. It’s almost worse than not seeing each other at all.
If Jonty ever asked her, he knows Catharine would be fine with him going away for a few days with Ross-- perhaps take him out to their house in country and out of sight of anyone who might disapprove. Mrs. Bonham would never agree, of course, but it’s those kind of promises that he knows keep Ross from going mad, so he whispers them in his ear in the few moments they can steal to be alone, just so he can see Ross smile and feel his fingers tighten where they’d clenched in the front of Jonty’s shirt.
Catharine announces she’s pregnant a few weeks after their first anniversary, and Jonty calls Ross first, making him agree to be godfather before he can say anything else. Ross sounds a little sad before he hangs up, and Jonty wonders later if it might have been better to break the news gently. After all, for all the times Jonty could promise that he wanted to take Ross and run away with him, Ross knew he’d never leave a child.
It’s a girl, sweet and bright like her mother, and when Ross’s first son is born a few months later. It’s an easy excuse to come over, let the children play, and sit on the porch with Ross, just barely touching and ready to pull apart if anyone walked by.
{five} in fire
The thing about the Apocalypse is that it all falls into place in little bits as pieces and by the time anyone really gets wise to it, it’s already gathered so much momentum that there’s no stopping it. Jonty figures that Ross knew all along that this was where things were going, though he’s long ago stopped being angry at him for keeping all those secrets. Everything about him was secrets, it turned out, and hating that would just be hating Ross, an that’s never going to happen.
Everyone knows who Ross is now, though they’re all calling him Galahad like it’s a title and Jonty hates that. He’s mentioned too, occasionally, in the subdued rumors that jump from one refugee camp to another. No one is ever quite sure why he’s there, which is unsurprising seeing as Jonty does know himself. Any sane person would have fled long ago. So, Jonty decides he isn’t sane, and it makes it much easier to get by with the constant stench of rotting filling his nose and the feeling of someone else’s blood drying on his skin where Ross touches him.
There were supposed to be people Ross was fighting for, but despite all their planning, they didn’t last either. Maybe that’s irony, but Jonty can’t help but wonder what they were planning, if they were supposed to bring some sort of order to this chaos, or if they even could have. They never lived to see this world. When the time came and they ordered Ross to leave the one whom he loved and come protect them instead, he refused. That still makes Jonty smile, sometimes, when he remembers.
The fact that they’re gone doesn’t stop Ross carrying the directives they carved into his mind, though, and Jonty just follows along dully, dutifully behind him, a shadow in a gold waistcoat picking his way through the carnage.
[reality] in impact
They tell him Ross is dead, and Jonty doesn’t believe it. He sees the body, lying there like wax, and his brain won’t let him accept who it is, won’t recognize him. He keeps waiting for Ross to walk in the door, keeps looking over his shoulder expecting to see him down the hall.
Everyone’s offering him sympathy, and he wants to scream because none of them know that this isn’t right. They don’t know Ross, don’t know that he wouldn’t kill himself. Jonty insists to himself that the paranoia is unavoidable, especially after Charlotte Arc shows up with that note, and he shouldn’t be too concerned about the bottles piling up on the coffee table. Everyone’s always telling him to process his fucking grief, and he’s processing, dammit.