Fic: Belonging Here (2/3)
Going home is always the last thing Ryan wants to do, but he can’t stay with Alex forever. After two days, he goes back to his apartment, which is silent and empty compared to Alex’s house. He ends up on the couch by evening, watching a fucking reality show, of all things, trying not to think about how Alex would be watching a movie or something, Kessy on his lap. When his phone rings, he grabs for it, insanely grateful for the distraction.
“Hello?”
“Sup, Kes,” Kevin says, and Ryan laughs.
“I haven’t heard from you in two days, man. Don’t tell me you guys have been fucking for two days straight.”
“So what if we have,” Kevin says, so smugly that Ryan groans, knows he isn’t kidding.
“I wasn’t serious! Gross, man, don’t tell me this.”
“I can tell you more-”
“Don’t. You. Dare.”
“Your loss,” Kevin says cheerfully. Ryan hears another voice in the background. “Hey, baby,” Kevin says, this fond tone Ryan’s only ever heard echoes of, when Kevin would be talking to Lappy. “Anyways, just wanted to tell you I’m gonna let you live.”
“Let me wait two days to tell me so I’d sweat it out, huh?”
“You know it. You can take the ‘dead man walking’ sign off now. Anyways, see you, I got things to do.”
“Things, or people?”
“Not people,” Kevin says cheerfully, “just one. See you!” He hangs up and Ryan groans, tosses the phone onto the couch. He gets bored before long, and just goes to bed.
Ryan tries to sleep in as long as possible in the morning. He wakes up at six, only to wake up at nine and then sleeps fitfully until noon. He wanders through his apartment for an hour, and then decides he’s suffered enough, and drives over to Alex’s.
He hears Kessy barking when he knocks on the door before Alex opens it, and oh, the way Alex smiles at him, it could make Ryan believe so many dangerous things.
“Ryan!” Alex exclaims, already opening the door to let him in. “What’s up?”
“I, um,” Ryan realises suddenly that he has no excuse for being here; it’s not an unfamliar feeling. He’s stood on this doorstep fishing for an explanation to be here so many times before. He forgets things at Alex’s as often as he can, should have last time, too. He follows Alex into the house, bending down to pet Kessy. “Did you find my iPod charger?” he asks, because, well, it was lost, truthfully. Last month.
“Euh, no?” Alex says.
“Huh. I can’t find it.” He stands, smiles at the concerned look on Alex’s face. “I’ll just pick up a new one.” He follows Kessy into the living room, sits on the couch as she bounds around the room. “What’re you guys up to?”
“Oh, nothing.” Alex flops down next to him, throws an arm over the back of the couch behind him. His phone buzzes and he pulls it out, rolls his eyes. “Mason says he tried poutine and does not like it.”
“Kessy,” Ryan calls over as Alex texts out a reply to defend his favourite food, “C’mere,” he says, because she’s nosing at the heater vent, and, well. She could hurt herself, possibly. There might be a sharp edge or something. She ignores this, though.
“How can you not be liking poutine,” Alex sighs out as he types.
“Kessy,” Ryan tries again; she listened to Lappy yesterday. She probably likes him better. He even speaks French. What was the word he used, that one Alex says all the time, “Viens,” Ryan tries, and Kessy comes running over, wagging her tail.
Alex laughs, smiles as he leans down to pet Kessy. “About time daddy learned how to talk to you, n’est ce pas?” Ryan shifts uncomfortably, frowns.
“Pretty sure Lappy’s spoken French all along,” he says, reaches down to help Kessy climb onto the couch. She licks his hand and settles into the space between him and Alex.
“Of course,” Alex laughs, “I am knowing this already. But now you are learning! Now you can understand your daddy,” he coos at Kessy.
“Lappy?”
“Lappy?” Alex echoes, arches an eyebrow, “non, you! Why would you think Lappy is her
daddy?” he asks, like this is bewildering to him.
“Well, why would I ever think I was?”
“Because of course you are,” Alex shakes his head, grinning. Ryan stares at him, tries to think of any words at all, because oh is he really could he really be?
“Oh, really,” Ryan laughs, wants to hug Alex and cuddle his little puppy baby. “Well, she doesn’t look much like me. Maybe we need a paternity test,” he grins, tries not to look obviously thrilled.
“You don’t want to be her daddy?” Alex asks, and oh, he’s pouting, looking at Ryan with sad eyes, “I just thought you would, since you are being over here all the times.”
“Alex,” Ryan says quickly, because no, how could he not be thrilled? “No, Alex. Of course I want to be her daddy,” he says, kind of wants to hold his hand or something. “It’s an honour,” he says, and Alex laughs. Ryan ducks his head a little, so Alex can’t see the way he burns with embarrassment, because he was just - he was serious.
“I told her all summer she would love you,” Alex says happily. Ryan shouldn’t feel so excited about that, but he is, wishes he’d known while he was in Michigan that Alex was back here telling Kessy your daddy will be back soon, he’ll love you, Ryan would have come home so fast. “N’est ce pas?” Alex coos at Kessy, “I told you, Daddy will love you.”
“Well, you were right,” Ryan says, and Alex reaches over and hugs him before standing.
“Viens, Kessy,” Alex says, “ready to go on the walk?”
The way he looks at Ryan, says “coming?” like it’s assumed Ryan will, Ryan’s never felt more at home than this.
A week later, Ryan’s back on Alex’s doorstep for the third time, but at least this time, he has an actual explanation. Alex looks at the grocery bag in Ryan’s hands when he opens the door, smiles.
“What’s up?”
“I found this recipe,” Ryan explains, Kessy bounding around them in circles, yipping happily.
“You do not cook,” Alex reminds him as they head into the kitchen. He looks through the bag eagerly as Ryan crouches down to pet Kessy. “What are we making?” Alex asks.
“Did you miss your daddy?” Ryan coos at Kessy, who puts her paws up on his knees so she can lick his face. “We’re making treats for Kesy, of course,” he tells Alex, who smiles brilliantly at him. A buzzer sounds from somewhere down the hallway.
“Oh, that’s the, euh - laveuse?”
“Washing machine.”
“Oui,” Alex says, like Ryan has solved some mystery, so brilliant for it. He heads off, as Ryan stands, digs though the shopping back.
“Viens, princess,” Ryan says, although Kessy is already sitting next to him, tail wagging. “Look!” He takes the toy he got for her out of the bag - he was just, around Petsmart the other day. Might have gone there because, it was on his way. Plus a few miles. Except he didn’t go anywhere else that day. But, whatever, it’s Kessy - and she yips excitedly. It’s a long plush dog, bright pink and the softest thing Ryan’s ever felt. She wags her tail when he gives it to her, licks his hand before taking the toy from him. “Cuz you’re such a good girl,” he pets her ears the way she likes, and she wags her tail even more, “you’re daddy’s little princess, aren’t you?” She barks around the toy, and then runs out of the room. The next thing Ryan hears is Alex’s voice from down the hallway.
“What’s that, Kessy? Aw, did daddy give that to you?” He reappears a few minutes later, Kessy padding after him, new toy in her mouth. “Que elle t’adore, you spoil her” he says to Ryan, throws an arm over his shoulders and then oh oh really is he - presses a kiss to his temple. Ryan’s open mouthed, hopes to God he isn’t blushing, ducks his head as he rifles through the shopping bag, just in case.
“It was soft,” he explains, and Alex laughs easily. Ryan would do anything for this little puppy, especially so Alex will keep kissing him, and Alex - Alex is acting like this is normal and ordinary, this moment that didn’t stop his world for a breathless heartbeat.
Alex’s phone rings partway through their baking, and he answers it on speakerphone, hands too covered in flour to really touch it.
“Salut,” he says, because it’s Lappy, and maybe Ryan will always feel just a little bit jealous. “What’s up?”
“You free this weekend? We got a boat.”
“A boat.”
“Oui, a boat.”
“We are free,” Alex says, and Ryan loves that Alex doesn’t even need to ask him.
“Why the hell didn’t you ask me?” Ryan chimes in. Lappy laughs, and the phone changes hands as he repeats this question to Kevin.
“We called Burr,” Kevin explains, “therefore, we told you. So, this weekend, got it?”
“Kessy,” Ryan chides, because she’s climbed onto a kitchen stool by getting onto a chair first, and is reaching a paw onto the counter, snags a spoon. “Get down.” She wags her tail and pushes the spoon towards him with her nose.
“Listen to daddy,” Alex contributes, and there’s uproarious laughter over the phone.
“So, this weekend,” Kevin says. “See you guys.”
“A boat,” Ryan says once Alex has hung up. He’s scooped Kessy up off the stool, and she licks his face as he tries to talk to Alex. “They have a boat. Do they know what to do with a boat?”
“It is Lappy and Juice!” Alex says like this should explain everything, “of course no!” The sunny pessimism makes Ryan laugh. He wishes he was like this with Alex, the way Kevin and Lappy are, so deeply in love that it doesn’t matter if they can barely figure out how to work a boat, so clearly together it’s assumed that wherever they are, they’re together, will stay just like that.
Alex picks the movie they watch that evening, and this kind of thing always makes Ryan remember their first season together. He’d thought - he’d been hopeful and clueless, and he’d thought that this meant something more. The way Alex sits so close to him, ends up with his head on Ryan’s shoulder by the end, nearly asleep, Ryan always thought that one day, Alex would look up and kiss him, but Alex never did. All the same, Ryan would be lying if he said he doesn’t still hope, this particular brand of hope, heavy with despair and hopelessness, because every season that goes by and nothing happens, the hope’s being diminished until one day, he won’t be able to call it that anymore. He’s just come to accept that he’s found his place, and that no one else will ever recognise it as his.
“Oh,” Alex says after a while; Kessy’s asleep by now, her head on Ryan’s thigh as he pets her absent-mindedly, “I met someone the other day-”
“What?” Ryan gasps out, heart suddenly racing, his quiet little moment broken so easily, “You - you can’t - date someone new, that would be so - tumultuous - for poor Kessy-” he babbles out, barely stops himself from saying you can’t do that to me.
“Euh, I met someone who said that the little soap packets for the dishwasher are better than the soap that is liquid...” Alex trails off, confusion all over his face. “I was wondering what you are using, at your apartment.”
“Um. The little packet things.”
“I am not dating someone new,” Alex says quietly.
“Oh, uh, I didn’t - I’m sure you’d - you know, handle it well,” Ryan hastens to say, wants so badly to go back to just fifteen minutes ago, Alex curled in against him, laughing at the movie.
“I don’t want to,” Alex says, even and quiet.
“Oh. Um. Okay. Why not?” he asks, because he knows he’s supposed to, as Alex’s friend, even though just about every possible answer would hurt. Alex is quiet for a moment, pets Kessy slowly. When they’re out on the ice, Alex seems so big and broad and they seem to be the same size, but like this, when he’s slumped against Ryan’s side and looking up at him, he just seems so small, like Ryan should protect him, and he wishes that was his, that keeping Alex safe could be what he does.
Alex looks at him for a long time, but eventually he just shakes his head. “Too hard in English,” he says, throwing Ryan off completely, because Alex never admits defeat like that. He’ll press on with half-accurate substitute words and sideways grammar and French thrown in, he never just gives up on what he wants to say.
It hurts, knowing that Alex needs someone now who could comfort him, and Ryan’s so bad at that, because Alex needs someone who isn’t heartbroken by this conversation, someone who isn’t uselessly in love with him. Maybe this is the hardest part about feeling this way about him, being incapable of being truly happy for him and someone else, hurting too personally when Alex says things like this.
“You’ll find someone,” Ryan says, “who loves you. So much, Alex.”
“You say this like you are knowing for sure,” Alex sounds dismissive, avoiding his eyes.
“I am,” Ryan says, and it’s completely true, even if Alex can never know just how much. “Because - you’re you, okay? There’s obviously someone out there that loves you so fucking much.”
“I just,” Alex starts, but he shakes his head.
“I can’t believe you’re worried about this,” Ryan says gently, “I tell you what, if you’re still single when you’re forty, I’ll marry you, if you want.” He smiles, but oh God he means it, wants Alex to agree and then Ryan might not be able to resist sabotaging every relationship Alex has until then, but he just - oh, if he could have Alex, even the smallest promise. Alex won’t need that promise, though. Anyone would fall in love with him and he can have anyone he wants; he’s the most perfect thing Ryan’s ever known.
“Ryan,” Alex says, this helpless, quiet voice, and then he gets off the couch. “Je reviens,” he mumbles, leaves the room. Ryan wants so badly to follow him, but he stays here, resists looking back towards the door every five seconds. Kessy looks up at him inquiringly.
“I screw things up with your poor papa a lot,” he tells her quietly, “I hate when he’s sad…” he gets up to follow Alex, finds Alex’s bedroom door open and looks through. “Alex?” Alex is sitting on the side of his bed, and oh, Alex, he’s crying. “Are you okay?” Ryan asks, forces himself to stay in the doorway when he wants to crawl onto the bed and pull Alex in his arms and make whatever’s hurting him go away. Alex only sniffles, so Ryan goes over to kneel in front of him. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he wants to beg to know, needs to know, because, his poor Alex, how can anything in the world be fair when someone like him is able to cry like this?
“Trop difficile,” Alex mumbles, “in English. I can’t.”
“I was just… I won’t make you marry me. Don’t worry,” Ryan says, just in case this is his fault. It would just be so painful, because Ryan wants to be Alex’s so bad it hurts, and it would be terrible, if the idea of having that makes Alex cry. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. I promise. Anyone would fall in love with you, and you can have your choice of guys. And you’ll be happy, because no one could deny you anything you want. And if he does,” he hates saying he, admitting that there’ll be someone else who gives this to Alex, that it won’t be him, “I’ll kill him.” There must be a guy; there has to be, why else would Alex be so upset? He puts a hand on Alex’s knee, squeezes gently. “Is there someone I should already be killing.”
“Ryan,” Alex whimpers out, so hopeless and small. Ryan scoots in between Alex’s legs and wraps his arms around him, holds tight.
“I’ll do it Alex, you know I will. I’ll kill whoever’s hurting you.” Who could it be? Is it Lappy? Oh, God, maybe it’s Lappy, maybe Alex was in love with Lappy, devastated that Juice took him away. Ryan will kill Lappy for that. Happily. Or maybe it’s Raymond, fucking sweet-faced, blue-eyed Raymond, Ryan wouldn’t mind killing him, either. Or is it one of those guys Alex comes across in random places and settles for so easily, as if someone who just walked up and talked to him one day could ever understand him.
“T’es tellement,” Alex breaks down in tears again.
“I’m what?”
“Very nice to me,” Alex says, almost sadly. Maybe he wishes someone else would be nice to him. Fuck, who would dare to be anything but the best to him?
“Well. You’re my best friend. And you deserve it. So…” Ryan doesn’t know how else to say you’re perfect and I want to do everything in the world for you without confessing this years-long secret.
“I don’t like this, it’s so hard,” Alex says brokenly, “I don’t like dating and I don’t like being gay and I just don’t.” Ryan wants to tell him then don’t date anyone, just date me, because he fucking hates that someone else is important enough to Alex to hurt him like this, and he didn’t even know about this at all, why didn’t he? Why would Alex hide this from him, and why would someone hurt him? He’s heartbreaking when he cries, and Ryan hates the whole world for that, for the way Alex is a pretty crier, like if anyone was made to cry, it’s him. Ryan hates it, because Alex, Alex is the sweetest person he knows, would never hurt anyone else, so why, why is he always hurting?
Ryan sits back on his heels, feels so fucking helpless. Kessy runs into the room to jump up on him, making whimpery little noises as she noses at Alex’s ankle.
“Is there anything I can do?” Ryan asks, “tell me who to kill.”
“There’s no one. Promise,” Alex says unsteadily.
“Alex. If someone’s hurting you - if someone isn’t living his whole life to make you happy when you gave him the chance to, he’s a fucking moron who doesn’t deserve you anyways. And the world would be better off without him.”
Alex draws in a shaky breath, wipes his eyes. “Thanks,” he says softly, looking at him, and Ryan can’t imagine being allowed to kiss him, hates whatever person is permitted to and doesn’t use it at times like this, to keep Alex from crying.
“I’m really sorry,” Ryan says, “but - I know everything’s gonna be okay. Trust me. Just… try not to worry about it.” He strokes Alex’s back, wants to tell him you’re perfect. He picks up Kessy and sets her on Alex’s lap, squeezes Alex’s shoulder as Kessy licks at Alex’s face.
“Hi, bebe,” Alex says quietly.
“I’m gonna take off. Let me know if you need anything,” Ryan says. Alex looks up at him, smiles a little, breaking Ryan’s heart all over again.
“Thanks, Ryan,” he says, and he means it, that’s the part that hurts the most. He means thanks for being such a good friend, and that’s exactly, only, what he means.
“Call if you need me, b-” he says, cuts off sharply, and if he wasn’t gutted before, he sure as hell is now, because oh, God, it would be so easy to call Alex babe and kiss his forehead, but if that were actually easy, he’d never do it; if he could do that, he would never stop there. “See you,” he says, voice catching, and he hurries out.
It’s good he lives so close to Alex, because tears start falling as soon as he gets outside, and by the time he’s at his own front door, he’s ready to break apart.
Distracting himself seems impossible, and even drinking’s out, because one swallow in and he realises that puking is a very real possibility. He drops his beer bottle in the sink and just goes to his bedroom. Ryan keeps the lights off and collapses on his bed, buries in his face in a pillow.
Everything is just so fucking awful. Alex said there’s no one, and all that means is that it’s not Ryan, will never be him. And he’s right, of course he’s right, everything he said - one day Alex will meet someone, someone who loves him the way Ryan does, but this time - this time, Alex will like the guy back. This guy - he’ll love Alex like Ryan does, but he’ll be something Ryan’s not, be more than him, whatever it is that he lacks, or be fortunately free of whatever makes Ryan undesirable. And this guy, this guy who’s not Ryan, he’ll get to spend all his time trying to make Alex happy, because Alex’s smile is the best, but - but it will be for someone else, for this guy who Alex will fall for. He’ll make Alex happy in the way Ryan couldn’t, and Kessy will have a new daddy and they’ll be so happy together, and Ryan will just be bitter.
Alex will probably invite him over for dinner once a month, and that guy, he’ll surely think Ryan useless and annoying, won’t understand why Alex ever wants him around, but the guy will still be cordial, because - because it’s what Alex wants, because that’s the way Alex is, so sweet and generous, and this guy’s allowed to do everything he can to make Alex happy. And after dinner, this fucking guy - Kessy will run to him to be pet and Alex will snuggle against his side, and they’ll all talk about things that don’t happen anymore, about everything they used to do together and Ryan won’t be able to stand that for long. He’ll thank them for inviting him over and hug Alex at the door and just know that he’s just a burden, left behind and still aching for what he never really had with Alex. He’ll leave so he doesn’t have to keep watching the life he wished was his, go home and cry himself to sleep because he’s been in love with Alex for years, and it’s finding that his place has been given to someone else, this place he belongs that isn’t for him.
Fuck, he hates this. He draws in a shuddering breath, wraps his arms tighter around the pillow and just tries to stop sobbing. He hates crying, hates being wrecked by this, that he wouldn’t be himself at all if the sight of Alex in tears didn’t completely destroy him. He’s just designed to be this way, to fail at comforting Alex, to fall apart for him. And he just - just can’t stop sobbing, because Alex was so hurt, and he’s not always going to be alone, there’s someday going to be someone that takes Ryan’s place and the place he wants, take everything he has, everything he needs, and nothing will ever be even slightly okay again.
When his phone buzzes in his pocket, he wants to ignore it, only pulls it out because it might be Alex, and what if Alex needs him? It’s a text from Alex, and he hopes it’s Alex wanting him back, or agreeing to the ridiculous marriage deal - he should have said thirty-two, not forty, but - it doesn’t fucking matter, because Alex wouldn’t agree to something that stupid and ridiculous. He opens the text, and it’s a picture message. The picture is of Kessy, holding the pink toy Ryan got her, sitting in Alex’s lap. He saves the picture and makes it his wallpaper before he even scrolls down, and under it - his heart just stops. Look what kessy is brought me. She knows thinking of her daddy makes things better. Oh, Ryan loves this little puppy, that she’s comforting Alex, that his Alex isn’t crying anymore. Except - does Alex mean it makes things better for him, too? Fuck, he shouldn’t have left, should have been stronger and stayed.
Make things better for who? he sends back.
For both of us, Alex’s reply reads. Ryan chokes a little, open-mouthed.
I could come back, he texts, then, do you want me to? He wants Alex to say yes, wants it so badly, wants him to say yes come back, and just - just keep asking for things.
Don’t worry of it. I will see you on saturday!
Okay, good night Alex, he texts, hopes this doesn’t sound horribly disappointed.
Night! :) Alex replies, and Ryan stares at his phone for a long time before he can even think about sleeping. At least he knows Alex isn’t crying anymore; he’d be awake all night with the restless, impossible need to hold Alex.
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