Fic: Take You Away (7)
This is Alex’s favourite way to wake up. Ryan is lying half on top of him, and he holds onto Alex even in his sleep, one leg thrown over Alex’s, arm wrapped around him. Alex burrows in even closer, and the movement wakes Ryan just a little, enough that he mumbles out a little whine, hugs Alex closer to his chest.
Alex can’t go back to sleep. He closes his eyes and buries his face against Ryan’s shoulder, wishes for the millionth time that he knew how to just stop thinking. It took hours to fall asleep last night, too. It’s just - it feels - feels not right, Alex nearly dissolved into tears last night because he loved it, and at the same time - it felt like taking something that wasn’t his, feels like he wasn’t supposed to be there at all - and maybe he wasn’t, maybe Ryan was thinking about that other guy. Alex wipes away tears, wakes up Ryan again when he moves around.
“Morning, babe,” Ryan yawns, strokes his hand down Alex’s arm. Alex catches Ryan’s wrist, frowns at the red streaks from his own nails. He shouldn’t have - Ryan isn’t - isn’t his to mark up, to claim, he belongs to someone else, but maybe that little part of Alex that’s so fucking hurt someone else has swept Ryan away made him do it, because he wants this other guy to see that there’s someone he’s stealing Ryan from. Except - oh, Alex hopes he didn’t hurt Ryan in any way, that this guy won’t look at him and say go be with whoever did this and leave Ryan alone, no one he wants to go back to.
“I shouldn’t have,” Alex murmurs, traces his fingertips over the marks on Ryan’s arm, the bitemarks along his neck.
“I like it,” Ryan says, smiles at him. He strokes Alex’s hair, this touch Alex always aches to lean into, never wants it to stop. “You can do it some more, if you want.” Alex just presses an apologetic kiss over the darkest bite, scoots back in against Ryan’s chest. He’s too headstrong, too childish, leaving his name all over Ryan like that could ever make Ryan his. He shouldn’t have even come to Ryan’s room last night, but he just felt so painfully lonely and unwanted, and he was going to leave but ended up here, ceased to think rationally the moment Ryan kissed him.
“Are you happy?” Ryan asks, and oh, the shy hope in his tone, the way he rubs his thumb over the back of Alex’s neck, it makes Alex want to cry. He doesn’t know how he can possibly feel so much angry jealousy at this moment, and it isn’t fair. He’s right where he wants to be, in Ryan’s arms, in his bed, and it’s so unfair, that he can have this and know it isn’t his, that there’s someone else Ryan wants to be here more.
Alex nods, bites his lip so he won’t cry. He should leave. He should leave, never do this again, but fuck, he also never wants Ryan to let go of him, wants to stay here until he’s memorized the feel of Ryan’s hands on his bare back, so gentle and sure.
“Are you sure?” Ryan asks, quiet, and how will Alex ever be able to live through a morning without this, without Ryan’s low voice and the way he wraps Alex in his arms, so warm against him.
“Oui, je suis sur,” Alex mumbles against Ryan’s chest. He likes being held like this, just - just likes it so much.
“I want you to be happy,” Ryan says, presses a kiss to Alex’s hair. “Here with me, like this.” Alex is, he is, but he’s also never been this upset, so angry just about being himself, the wrong person, not the one Ryan wants. He could be happy like this, if only he knew Ryan wasn’t settling, wasn’t just practicing, this incomprehensible meld of the two, and Alex just doesn’t know, when Ryan looks at him, if Ryan’s thinking of someone else. Ryan tilts Alex’s face up with a gentle hand on his cheek, kisses him softly. Alex moans helplessly, his hand tightening on Ryan’s hip, something to ground him because Ryan so effortlessly sweeps him away, so dangerously easily. Ryan keeps kissing him, slow and easy.
“This is the best way to wake up, Alex,” he murmurs in between kisses. Sometimes - sometimes it feels like Ryan sets out to hurt him, because Alex can’t imagine anything that would hurt more to hear right now. This is the best, because it is, this thing that isn’t Alex’s, that he can’t keep.
Ryan gently rolls Alex onto his back, starts kissing his neck, and Alex doesn’t last a moment before he’s whimpering and squirming. He shivers at the feeling of Ryan’s stubble against his cheek, wants to grab at Ryan and whimper and beg need you inside me just need you. Ryan trails his hand down Alex’s chest, and if Alex wasn’t hard already he certainly is now, Ryan’s hand resting on his abs, tantalizingly close. Ryan’s hard too, pressing against Alex’s hip, and fuck, that has Alex just dripping precum. Ryan slips a hand down to wrap around Alex’s straining erection, and it’s just one stroke, but Alex groans powerfully. Ryan climbs on top of him and crushes their lips together, licks into Alex’s mouth and kisses him hard while rubbing against him, his dick sliding against Alex’s skin until Alex thinks his nerves are going to fray apart from the burning want.
“Oui, Ryan, s’il te plait,” Alex babbles, helplessly thrusting up against Ryan, aching and desperate for more, just needs - “please, please, please,” he sobs out, struggles to stick with English because Ryan pleaded for it.
“What do you want, babe?” Ryan asks, kissing along Alex’s jaw. Every roll of his hips makes Alex breathless, desperate for more. “Anything.”
Alex fumbles for the words in English, takes a breath so he doesn’t burst out with senseless French, or start sobbing with desperate need, because he’s dying for Ryan, wants everything, every last thing.
“Toi,” Alex gasps out, English still failing him. He scrambles to collect his thoughts, tries again, but it’s increasingly hard to think straight. “Want you - to fuck me, Ryan, s’il te plait, je t’ai besoin-”
“Babe,” Ryan breathes, kisses him before nudging him over onto his stomach. Ryan kisses down Alex’s back, Alex’s hips twitching as he does. And then - then he’s pressing his tongue over Alex’s entrance, and Alex makes a noise between a shriek and a moan, legs trembling to hold himself up.
“Ohh,” Alex groans out, clenching the sheets tight in his hands. Holy fuck, it’s so good, so impossibly good, and it’s Ryan, doing this, making Alex writhe and gasp. He squirms needily, dick leaking precum liberally with every swipe of Ryan’s tongue. “Ryan, Ryan,” he moans, no words left. Ryan squeezes his hip gently, but doesn’t let up, and Alex can’t do anything but continue to squirm restlessly, panting. His dick’s throbbing, and he needs so badly to be touched, so hard it hurts. “Ryan,” he begs again. Ryan brushes his fingertips against Alex’s dick in response, too lightly to give any relief, just makes him twitch and drip precum even more as Ryan continues to tongue his hole. Fuck, he’s going to come apart, he needs more, moremoremore- “Ryan!” he all-but howls, every muscle taut and shaking, he’s dying, can’t take how good this is, and he needs to be touched, needs more.
Ryan presses a kiss to Alex’s lower back, gets up. Alex whines, hears Ryan open the bedside drawer, shut it again.
“Ryan,” Alex begs mindlessly, hands clenching in the sheets.
“Hang on, babe,” Ryan murmurs. The next thing Alex feels is a slick finger teasing him open, and he moans, tries to shove his hips back for more.
“More, please, more, Ryan, s’il te plait-”
Ryan keeps teasing, one finger and then two, rubbing against Alex’s prostate until he thinks he’s going to lose his mind.
“Ryan-” Alex arches and trembles, dick jerking every time Ryan’s fingers slide into him. “Need- you, please, please.”
“Yeah, okay,” Ryan says, kind of raw, and he kisses Alex’s hip as he takes his fingers away. There’s an agonizingly long pause before Ryan touches the head of his dick to Alex’s entrance, and Alex gasps aloud. “Ready, babe?” Ryan breathes, and Alex nods, frantic. Ryan pushes into him slowly, and oh, it feels sosogood, Alex pushes his hips back, needs more, Ryan’s going so slow. Alex groans out incoherent sounds when Ryan pushes all the way into him, and Alex looks back over his shoulder, gets caught by the look on Ryan’s face, like he can’t believe how good this is, like he never wants to stop. Ryan leans up to kiss the back of Alex’s shoulder - it’s a moment of alarming sobriety amidst Alex’s mindless desperation, and he whimpers and rocks his hips a little, so Ryan will keep going.
“Ryan,” he whines, doesn’t even know what he’s asking for. Ryan seems to know, though, and he pulls out a little to shove back in, somehow gentle even as he thrusts into Alex. He rubs against Alex’s prostate like he knows just what to do, has endless knowledge of what to do to make Alex come undone, helpless in his hands. Alex already feels like he’s going to come at any second, and then Ryan reaches to wrap a hand around Alex’s dick, finally giving him the friction he’s been craving.
“Ryan,” Alex all-but yells, doesn’t know if he wants to shove back to meet Ryan’s thrusts, or push forward against his hand, everything feels perfect, fucking amazing.
“So good, babe,” Ryan groans, kisses the back of Alex’s shoulder. “So good, fuck, can’t, just can’t.” He thrusts in almost frantically, hits that one spot every time that has Alex moaning and whimpering for more, and it’s good, so good. Ryan nuzzles against the back of Alex’s neck, making breathless little sounds. “I love you, so much,” Ryan says breathlessly, and then he thumbs over Alex’s slit just as he thrusts in just right, and Alex comes suddenly, only groans louder when he feels Ryan come inside him, shoving in deep. Alex slumps down to the mattress and Ryan pulls out before collapsing on top of him, sweaty and trembling and breathless, and Alex just wants to hold onto this so tight, the way this feels. Ryan’s kissing his neck and petting his hair, and Alex just feels so fucked out and adored, and - oh. He buries his face in a pillow, tries to breath steadily so he won’t start to cry.
Ryan was pretending Alex was someone else. He wasn’t thinking about Alex, doesn’t want him, and Alex is just taking things that don’t belong to him, clinging tight to the right words that don’t mean a thing.
“Alex,” Ryan sighs out, rubs a big hand over Alex’s shoulder gently.
“I should go home,” Alex forces himself to say, and it’s even harder to pull away, scoot to the side of the bed. “We have - morning skate, later.” It’s not for a while, he woke Ryan up so early, but Alex just - just can’t stay here, being the wrong person, wanting what isn’t his. Ryan was sprawled on the bed, but he lifts his head, open-mouthed.
“Yeah - but - c’mon, I’ll make you breakfast, you should stay. Or take you to breakfast, that works too?” His amber eyes are bright with - something, Alex looks away before he can identify it as pity or something equally painful. “Or anything you want, I just - don’t want you to leave,” Ryan says quietly, and it has to be pity. Alex just gave himself over to the love of his life, and now he knows exactly what he’s missing, his first time both perfect and impossible to match; he clearly doesn’t deserve to be loved, but pity might be in order. It’s just so fucking sad.
“C’est d’accord, I’ll - see you at practice - morning skate, at morning skate,” Alex says, grabs his clothes off the floor, pulls them on hurriedly. He’s pretty sure he grabbed Ryan’s boxers by mistake, but he just really wants to leave, hurriedly untwisting his shirt. Everything hurts, and he’s going to feel the burn from this all day, but what hurts the most is the markless place on his shoulder where Ryan kissed him, on fire in the shape of the gentle press of his lips to Alex’s skin.
“Alex,” Ryan says softly, and Alex’s vision is blurred by tears before he’s even a foot from the bed. He doesn’t want pity, he wants Ryan to hug him close and kiss him and tell him I love you, wants to be Ryan’s first choice, the perfect someone he’s life-changingly in love with. More than anything, Alex just wants Ryan to love him. He’s taken this, being a stand-in for someone else, told things meant for someone else, but what he really wants is for Ryan to kiss him and not think of someone else, wants it to be because Ryan loves him, just him.
Ryan grabs Alex when he’s pulling on a shirt, and Alex whimpers in surprise when Ryan pulls him into a hug, holds onto him tight.
“Please-” Ryan says, sounds almost frantic, “Tell me everything’s okay.”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Alex says, wants to cling tighter, forces himself to pull away instead, and he hates this, saying things to make Ryan let go of him when that’s really the last thing he wants. “I’ll see you at morning skate.”
Morning skate is no better, though. Alex doesn’t know how he makes it through, can barely keep his attention on the ice because he keeps thinking about this morning, about coming undone with nothing to catch him on the other side, because Ryan doesn’t want him, wants someone else. After skate, he gets dressed slowly, can’t think because he can’t stop feeling everywhere Ryan touched him, burning handprints all over him. As he’s getting dressed, he realises that he still has Ryan’s boxers, and he knows he’s turned scarlet before he can yank his pants on so Ryan doesn’t notice that he has them. It kind of sends him reeling a little, jolted back to this morning and Ryan’s hands all over him and gasping Ryan’s name and - and love you, so much, and Ryan wasn’t saying that to him.
“Hey,” he hears, looks up. The locker room is empty, just Ryan before him, frowning and looking at Alex with something like reluctance. “Alex, about this morning, and… what I said,” Ryan starts. Alex bites his lip, wants to pray that this won’t hurt, but there’s no point.
“You know. At the end,” he reminds Alex, as if Alex is ever going to forget. He’s been hearing it all morning, words that didn’t include his name, were an I love you for someone else. He doesn’t even know the other guy’s name, but is seeing everything he’ll get, gets to hear Ryan’s gentlest voice.
“I didn’t, like, mean it, or anything,” Ryan says. Alex knows this, but - but hearing Ryan say it, know that I love you is for someone else, and he gets - gets this, gets I didn’t mean it. “You know,” Ryan says, “sometimes you get carried away at a time like that.” Alex doesn’t know; Ryan is his first, and he’s always aching to confess I love you, has no idea what it’d be like with anyone else.
“So. Sorry about that,” Ryan says, and isn’t this perfect, Ryan apologizing for letting Alex hear what he wants the most.
“I already knew,” Alex turns to shut his locker. “You do not have to be telling me. I’ll see you at the game.” This feels so much like this morning, walking away after Ryan says something that hurts so badly, Alex doesn’t know how he’ll make it out the door without breaking into sobs.
“Okay, see you!” Ryan says, smiles at him. Alex thinks for a moment of the last time they had lunch together, but he only lets himself miss it for a second before leaving; it’s not his to miss.
All the same, Alex has never felt so completely destroyed; he’s always known Ryan doesn’t love him, but this, knowing exactly how it sounds when Ryan says I don’t love you, it’s impossibly worse. Alex hates to walk away when he can still feel the way Ryan kissed his shoulder with unmatchable tenderness, but Ryan doesn’t love him, and all he’s ever felt is Ryan loving someone else.
Alex gets benched. He doesn’t last fifteen minutes into the game before he’s fucked up so badly so many times that AV benches him, looks more bewildered than angry, like Alex is so bad it’s confusing. He just hasn’t been able to play, can’t even think, he’s forgetting to look for the puck and getting thrown around easily and he just can’t do anything. He slumps onto the bench beside Cory, stares down at his skates. He hasn’t been benched in a while, and doesn’t miss this feeling, being put aside, out of everyone’s way; it feels even worse today, though, because he’s playing so terrible, his team doesn’t want him, and it’s his fault entirely and no one wants him.
Ryan comes over to him during the next TV timeout, looks so concerned, Alex wonders just how badly his play looked. “Are you okay?” he asks. Alex nods, can’t look up at Ryan. “What’s wrong?” Ryan leans further over the boards, frowning.
“Nothing,” Alex mumbles. This morning you kissed me and then made sure I don’t think you love me, he can’t say.
“Hey. Look at me,” Ryan says, that firm, gentle voice he has that Alex used to think was for him alone. He looks up reluctantly, bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from crying. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s nothing,” Alex drops his gaze again. “I just. Don’t feel well.” It’s true, at least; he feels awful, but that’s nothing new.
“You’re sick?” Ryan’s studying him, Alex can feel it. Alex reaches up to rub a hand over the back of his shoulder, can’t look at Ryan’s face without remembering him open-mouthed and breathless, overwhelmed by how good he felt.
“Maybe.”
“You’re not sick. I know what’s wrong,” Ryan says, and Alex looks up, speechless. “But I’m gonna fix it, Alex. Just hang in there, okay?” He says it with such sureness, and Alex wants to believe him, he does, but Ryan never lies to him, and today he said I didn’t mean it, and fuck, Alex is suddenly fighting tears. Ryan frowns, and Alex wants everything back so badly, all the little kisses and gentle touches he knows weren’t really for him, but he just misses Ryan so much.
“I’ll fix it, I promise. It’s gonna be okay,” Ryan says, has to skate to the faceoff circle, the timeout over. Alex struggles not to cry, and he’s so, so grateful when Dan stands in front of him, blocking him from view.
AV comes over, says “Burr, it’s one game, shake it off,” and slaps his shoulder, like Alex’s problem is his game, and not so much worse. Alex doesn’t look up when someone slides over to sit right next to him, but then he hears his name in the second-most familiar way. Alex loves when Ryan says his name, it feels like that’s the way it’s supposed to sound, in Ryan’s voice and every shade of emotion that gets wrapped around it from him, but this is different, this is Alex in a French accent, the way that used to be Alex’s favourite, until Ryan came along.
He looks up to see Maxim beside him, frowning in concern. “Are you okay?” Maxim asks in French, wraps an arm around his shoulders. Alex nods, leans into his side a little and forces away tears. “You never play so badly, Alex, is something wrong?”
“I’ll be okay,” Alex says quietly. Maxim squeezes his shoulder, and then he has to go out for a shift, leaves Alex to go back to staring at the boards, remembering Ryan putting his arms around him, feeling like he was allowed to curl into Ryan’s side and nuzzle against him. He’s grateful when the period ends, but it’s not like it’s any easier to sit in the locker room on the bench beside Ryan. Ryan knocks his knee against Alex’s and gives him a little smile, and it’s not what Alex wants and he never should have been given what he wants, but oh, he misses it so badly. He can’t so much as look at Ryan’s hands without wishing they were on him, remembers every gentle touch and how none said I love you.
The rest of the game is the same; Alex isn’t trusted to go back out on the ice, and he’s not surprised, because it’s probably painfully obvious, how ready to fall apart he is, maybe that it’s already begun. It feels like hours before he can finally take off his gear and shower. He’s so relieved to get to his locker, because he can go home in a few minutes, he’ll go home, and he’ll miss Ryan so much but at least he’ll be home, not hiding from TV cameras and avoiding pitying gazes.
He looks up when he hears someone walk up to him, doesn’t know what to say when he sees it’s Ryan. “There’s no fucking way you’re gonna be alone tonight, so are we going to your place or mine,” Ryan says, that iron-clad determination he has, and Alex can only stare for a moment. He wants to ask why can’t I go home alone, but that isn’t what he really wants to know. He’s just - just so happy, Ryan still wants him, even if it’s just like this, and Alex can’t help but throw his arms around Ryan.
“Okay,” he says, forces himself to let go before he can start nosing against Ryan’s neck and whimpering for kisses, but those few seconds that Ryan holds him tight, Alex loves it. Maybe he should feel worried, that Ryan is going to sit him down and tell him I didn’t mean it again and in more detail, but he just feels relieved, because he loves Ryan telling him I’m going to take care of you. Ryan might not love him, but oh, thank God, he’s always been so caring.
“My place? If- it’s okay?” he adds, looking up at Ryan. He doesn’t want to go to Ryan’s, be reminded so vividly of what they did.
“Sure. I’ll drive, okay?” This is a tone Alex is so used to, recently accompanied by Ryan kissing his hair or stroking his cheek, but today, it’s just been Ryan checking on him again and again on the bench, bumping his shoulder against Alex’s, touches Alex used to be satisfied with because he didn’t know everything he was missing. Alex nods, wonders if he can re-learn to be happy being given just this.
Ryan cooks dinner for them at Alex’s apartment, Santa Fe-style burritos that Alex has loved since they had them at a restaurant in Washington. Afterwards, he mentions that the movie Alex missed in theatres just came out on Netflix, and Alex doesn’t dare sit really close, but it still feels almost normal, watching Ryan mess up typing in the name onscreen.
Alex really wants to be closer to Ryan. He wants what he had just a few days ago, being allowed to press against Ryan’s side and wrap his arms around him, and he can’t even remember how they used to be, how far is okay.
“How long does it usually take to become a cop?” Ryan asks as the movie starts, and Alex shrugs a shoulder. “I wonder how they pick who gets what assignment, though.”
“I don’t know. Maybe is, oldest choose first?” God, Alex really wants to be closer to Ryan. He scoots an inch towards Ryan, looks away.
“I doubt they actually use everything they carry. There’s just so much stuff.”
“It is,” Alex says; Ryan doesn’t usually talk through movies the way he does. Alex inches a little closer, looks longingly at Ryan’s shoulder, tips his knee against Ryan’s. “I don’t know.” Ryan smiles at him, that way he has, like Alex makes him happy even when Alex isn’t trying.
“Maybe they should have motorcycles instead of bikes,” Ryan comments. Alex nods distractedly, sneaks a wistful look at Ryan again. He gets a little closer, skims his thumb along the seam of his own jeans, the back of his hand brushing against Ryan’s leg as he does. And Ryan, he gently guides Alex’s head down to his shoulder, and finally, Alex can lean against him, almost as close as he wants to be. He sighs out a relieved breath, barely resists turning towards Ryan and wrapping an arm around him.
“I’ve been thinking…” Ryan says after a few minutes, and Alex is afraid to look up, keeps his head on Ryan’s shoulder and hopes he’ll hear something good. “Let’s take a trip AllStar weekend. To Disneyland. What do you say?” This isn’t what Alex was expecting at all, thought this would be getting pushed away, more and more unwanted, but Ryan, he wants to make plans and still see Alex and Alex is just so relieved.
“Oui, yes, I like this idea,” he says, smiles up at Ryan. Ryan wants to spend the break together, that’s what he wants, somehow knows what Alex needs to hear. Sometimes, Alex thinks that if he found out Ryan put the stars in the sky, he wouldn’t be surprised at all; Ryan has this ability to toss out shining things across dark places, giving Alex something to be happy about on this day where he had to hear I didn’t mean it. “I can’t wait,” Alex says happily, can’t help but curl in a little closer against Ryan’s side.
“It’s gonna be a blast, I’m so excited,” Ryan says, smiles down at him, and Alex just loves that this is already a plan for Ryan. He wonders when Ryan came up with it - if maybe, for a few minutes when they were in bed together, Ryan was thinking about him. “If there’s anything else you want to do around there, let me know and I’ll set everything up.”
“Okay,” Alex can’t imagine anything more to ask for; he gets to spend the break with Ryan, just them, and that’s always been the basis for what he needs. “I think it’s awesome, though.” He barely manages not to look up and kiss Ryan’s jaw, doesn’t even know how he’s capable of resisting.
Alex tries not to wonder why Ryan isn’t going to spend the break with that guy, if it’s pity - no, he’s not going to think about it. He just talks through the movie like usual, wishes Ryan was holding him. Ryan leans his cheek against the top of Alex’s head, and Alex almost thinks Ryan’s going to hug him.
“How’re you feeling?” Ryan asks softly, this tone that too briefly used to be followed with babe. God, Alex loves being called that, the way it could be soothing or breathless.
“Good.”
“Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise,” Ryan says, and he keeps doing this, promising they’ll be okay when Alex knows they can never be. Alex doesn’t know what to say, so he just stays quiet. After a while, Alex starts yawning, and he’s almost asleep on Ryan’s shoulder before long.
“Hey,” Ryan says softly, “go ahead and go to bed. I’ll clean the kitchen.” The way he smiles, the gentle tone, Alex thinks that maybe, maybe, Ryan’s saying I’ll join you in a few minutes, and oh, God, that would save Alex, it really would. He smiles, says okay, and heads to bed to wait. By the time he’s actually in bed, it’s hard to stay awake, and he curls up on the right side of the bed, watches the door.
Alex smiles against the pillow when Ryan comes to the doorway a few minutes later - Ryan’s right there, he’s really back, and Alex has missed him, doesn’t care how much it’ll hurt tomorrow, he just really misses the way it feels, held by the person he loves most in the world.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Ryan asks quietly, comes over to the side of the bed. Alex blinks up at him.
“I dunno, I just can’t sleep.” Because I’m waiting for you, he wants to say, doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. Ryan sits on the side of the bed beside him, not close enough at all, just rubs Alex’s shoulder gently. Every little touch Alex gets, it makes him crave more, and Ryan’s - he’s still just beside Alex, and maybe he’s not going to get in bed at all, he’s really not.
“Can I do anything for you?” Ryan asks. Alex aches to beg please come back, get in bed with me, let me have everything back, just shakes his head no. “Alex…” Ryan says, and even as his gentle touch is almost lulling Alex to sleep, every word he says jolts Alex back into his fear. “Can you talk to me?”
“About what?”
“Do you want things to be fixed? With us?” Ryan asks, and it’s the gentle voice he used to used when Alex was curled up against his chest, but this is wrong, all wrong, Alex misses the way things were. But - Ryan thinks they’re ruined, too? It’s that bad?
“Do they - are they -” cassé, brisé, he can’t think of the word in English, “breaked?”
“I’m… um…” Ryan stutters, hand stilling on Alex’s shoulder, “…maybe… is… that’s not why you’ve been upset today?” he asks, and it’s so uncertain, Alex doesn’t understand.
“I shouldn’t be. I’m sorry,” Alex says into his pillow. Ryan’s probably trying to tell him he’s too upset, too affected, and even as he does, Alex wants to wrap his arms around Ryan’s waist, bury his face against Ryan’s chest and just never let go.
“Don’t be sorry. Just tell me if you want it fixed.”
“Bien sur, you’re - so important to me,” Alex says. So important, the most important, please never leave, but you’re not mine to hold on to -
“You’re so important to me too. We can fix it, Alex. I won’t let it ruin us. We’re not like… that,” Ryan says, and Alex wants to break down in sobs. Why does Ryan keep doing this, forcing him to hear things he really can’t stand; Alex didn’t know how he was going to make it through a day when Ryan said love you, so much, and then I didn’t mean it, and now Ryan’s saying this, saying we’re not like that, and Alex was so close to making it through today.
“I know you won’t. And we’re not,” Alex says in a small voice. He’s not going to cry, he’s not, not in front of Ryan, because he’s not supposed to be in love, he’s not supposed to get so upset by this.
“We’re not,” Ryan says, and Alex is going to fucking cry, but then Ryan pulls him into a hug, and Alex can cling to him, forget how bad everything is. Ryan strokes his back and holds him so tight, and Alex wants to bury his face against Ryan’s neck and sob and beg for Ryan to love him, but he can’t do anything, he doesn’t want to lose this again, Ryan’s arms around him.
“It’s really hard,” Ryan whispers.
“What is?”
“Trying not to be what you don’t want.”
Alex doesn’t understand this - the negations trip him up and he doesn’t get it, does Ryan - oh. He’s saying - saying - Alex forces away tears that are suddenly threatening to fall, clings tight to Ryan. Ryan’s saying it’s hard to be what you want, it’s hard for him to - to pretend like it’s okay, what they’ve been doing, to go along with Alex taking their practicing so out of hand. He’s saying it’s hard to keep kissing you and pretending like I want to, it’s hard to pretend you’re him and I can’t do it anymore.
“You always know the right thing to do,” Alex mumbles, doesn’t know how else to thank Ryan for suffering through Alex wanting him.
“Please don’t get sick of me,” Ryan says, and Alex pulls back to stare up at him, doesn’t understand.
“Quoi? No, never.” Sick of him? All Alex wants is - is Ryan, for the rest of his life. Ryan just holds him close again, so tight.
“I didn’t mean to do this,” Ryan says, “I’m sorry. You’re just so fucking cuddly.” Alex wants to cry, to plead don’t let go, because Ryan’s saying he didn’t mean to let things get so far out of hand, saying it was too easy to pretend, and Alex is never going to be the real person he wants, saying he’s sorry for giving Alex false hope, because he didn’t give anything and Alex still took it and ruined everything with it.
“It’s okay,” Alex nuzzles against his neck, just can’t stop himself. He wants to cry when Ryan lets go. “Merci,” he mumbles.
“Are you sure I can’t do anything for you?” Ryan asks. Everything Alex wants to ask for isn’t his.
“I’m sure.”
“Will you tell me if you think of anything?”
“Promise.” He wants - wants Ryan to come into bed with him and hold him tight, and oh, fuck, Alex is going to cry. He really misses Ryan.
“I’ll do better tomorrow,” Ryan says softly, stroking Alex’s back, “I promise.” Alex shakes his head, bites his lip so he won’t reach for Ryan again.
“You’re always perfect.”
Ryan laughs a little, shakes his head. “If I was, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” He stands up, says, “will you please get some sleep now?”
“Oui,” Alex turns his face against his pillow again. “Je vais.”
“Goodnight, Alex. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Alex buries his face in his pillow so he doesn’t have to watch Ryan leave; he’s going to see that every day now, doesn’t want it tonight. All he can really hope is that Ryan will always be around to leave him at the end of every day, even though it hurts, even though Alex can’t look at him without remembering how perfectly they fit together, his heart breaking because Ryan didn’t feel the same.