Ryland Grace (Project Hail Mary, 2026) x Casey/Driver (Drive, 2011) aka DrivingLessons
warning: Ryan Gosling x Ryan Gosling, dissociative episodes, Driver and Casey are the same man but are often referred to as separate entities when Casey is dissociating or reflecting, minor injuries, kissing, mentions of Colt Seavers and Holland March, Human!Rocky and Human!Adrian.
note: hihi! this is my first EVER fic, so please give me some grace (haha. heh. el oh el.) during this fic <3 these guys are very dear to me and i don’t see a lot of them so…yeah. requests are open for more fics!
just to help y’all out- chapter changes and pov switches are under the lined cuts! enjoy!
Ryland Grace has never felt more embarrassed in his life. Here he was, standing in the middle of some small mechanic’s place (what was it, Dave’s? Dan’s?) asking for his bicycle to be fixed. Yes, a bike. He didn’t own a car- teacher salary barely gets him by, so paying off a car note wasn’t in the budget. Plus, cardio! But unfortunately, on today of all days, the chain of his bike had snapped. He was already running a little late to school too…Grace already took the initiative to call out sick and ask for a sub. Better get the problem fixed sooner than later.
There’s a blonde man in the corner that the unimpressed teen up front pointed to. He’s a little slim but well built, hiding halfway under a nice 1970’s Chevrolet Chevelle. Ryland feels a lump in his throat as he pushes the bright yellow bike up with him. Was it extra hot in auto shops? It had to be- normal San Francisco summer heat wouldn’t beat down on him this hard at 9am. Well, here goes. Dr. Mr. Ryland Grace clears his throat.
“Uh- Excuse me?” Grace feels himself shake. He didn’t book an appointment in advance, didn’t pay ahead, he should just turn around and walk back to his condo- NO! No. He’d get this done here and now. “I-I said, excuse me.” The man slides out from under the car. Oil splattered a little on his face, grease on his hands, sweat on his shirt. Ryland feels his face burn even hotter. Jeez, can he get a grip?
“The uh- the man at the front desk said you were available to help me?” He stammers. Get It Together Grace.
“With…what, exactly? Engine issue?” The Mechanic’s voice is rough, but gentle. Very contradictory, Grace.
“Oh! Well-no, not exactly. You see…my bicycle chain broke. I don’t own a car. So I need this to get to work, and I hate the bus and trolley systems around this city so it’s really not an option for me, so I-I was wondering if you could fix my bike.” There’s a pause. Oh no. “Or not! I-I see you’re already busy with a car and-“
The Mechanic interrupts him. “I can fix your bike. Bring it over to my workbench, let me take a look.”
Ryland Grace has never swooned before. But he thinks there’s always a chance to try something new..
Grace is sat on a stool next to said Mechanic’s workbench. ‘Casey’ is what reads on the Mechanic’s name tag. Huh. Casey’s focused on this bike as if it’s the most important thing in the world, and even just freshens up bits of the bike that were starting to rust or get old. Occasionally, he’d ask Ryland to hand him a tool. Now, Ryland’s not a dunce. He has a PhD in Microbiology, thank you very much. But when tasked in manual labor, it was always a quick call to his brother Colt or his best friend Rocky.
“Ratchet, please.” The Mechanic- Casey, as his nametag reads- asks, and Ryland has to play it carefully here. Ultimately, he takes too long, and Casey just points at a tool with a small grin. Grace stammers out a noise, and hands it to him. Good Going Grace.
The bicycle is better than ever. Ryland didn’t even know bikes could get this clean. “Thank you so much! Do uh- do you take card?” He beams.
“…No. We don’t take card. Cash or checks.” Ryland is, for lack of a better word, dumbfounded. A business in San Francisco in 2026 not taking card is a very, very rare sight. Unfortunately, until he gets paid, he only has the 50 bucks Colt Cashapped him.
He sighs, “Do you have an ATM nearby?” Casey shatters that strand of hope with a head shake. Fudge. “How…how about I get you lunch? There’s a nice place a few minutes from here- they serve breakfast all day but they have really good burgers too…” he pauses his ramble to avert his eyes from Casey. “I-If that’s not your style, I can make you something? Maybe?”
“…Okay.” Casey responds. Easier than Ryland thought. “We can go to that diner. I’ve…I haven’t had the chance to eat locally yet,” Casey shrugs.
“Perfect! We- um. Do you mind if we take your car?” Ryland asks sheepishly. He can’t really fit Casey on his pegs, and especially not on his handlebars.
Luckily, Casey nods. “Let me just finish the oil change on my car.” Ryland raises a brow at that, then realizes the car he was working on earlier is his car. So, after a few minutes of waiting, Casey eventually opens the passenger door for Ryland.
Lunch was a hit, at least to Ryland. He did most of the talking- Casey’s quiet, and an excellent listener. He gives his suggestions to Casey on the menu, cracks a few jokes, gets a little grin out of the mechanic. A fair payback for a broken bike.
That stupid, stupid bike! Ryland hates this thing now, he’s decided. The school year is over, luckily, so there’s no rush. But he was planning on having a nice little bike to the coffee shop and then heading over to Colt’s apartment. Colt’s in town for some movie shoot, and Ryland wouldn’t miss a chance to see his brother. But this bike! He completely ate the concrete while on the way to that coffee place. Handlebars broken, tires flat and the chain busted. “Oh-Fudge!” Ryland can’t help but groan, assessing the damage. Is he bleeding? His knees are skinned- of course today of all days he wore shorts. His face hurts a little too, and his palms sting.
“You know…” a softer, more monotoned voice says behind him. Could it be? The Mechanic? The one Ryland’s been constantly thinking about for the last two weeks? He perks up- Casey never starts conversations. But Casey continues, “for someone who can barely walk without tripping over his own two feet, I’m surprised you don’t have a car- you could end up hurt.”
“Yeah, well. Teacher salary.” Ryland sniffles. He gets up with a hiss. “I didn’t even know I was near your shop…” he sighs.
“You were too focused trying to not crash. Let me help.” Casey picks up his bike, and before Ryland can protest, takes it into the garage. Ryland follows with a wobble in his step.
Ryland’s never been more embarrassed in his life. Well, actually, he’s always getting himself into relatively embarrassing situations. But this one is just his most recent. Instead of fixing the bike and leaving Ryland with a shitty small first aid kit, Casey’s decided to fix him up. Ryland feels all eyes on him. The other mechanics look over to Casey’s lot occasionally to see not a car, but the same loser from last week who needs fixing up too.
“Skinned your knee pretty bad,” Casey murmurs. “This’ll sting.” A hiss escapes Ryland as the antiseptic wipe rubs the dirt and grime off of his knees. Casey continues to patch him up. It’s as quiet as an auto shop can get- the constant whirring and clanging of restoration and repair. After his knees and hands are all wrapped up, a bandage is placed gently on his nose. “All done. Wait here while I fix your bike.” Casey commands him once more, and Ryland stays.
After a little while, the stupid bike has been repaired. Ryland sighs. “Thank you again. I-I don’t really have time to get lunch, but I can bring you something?” He smiles gently, appreciating Casey.
“…Sure.” Casey gives a little thumbs up. And that’s enough for Ryland to smile even wider. They bid one another goodbye.
The next day, a brown paper bag is placed on Casey’s workbench by someone else. He looks up. It’s his older coworker, Jakob. He strays away from the rest of his coworkers- he doesn’t want a repeat of L.A. Casey steadily reminds himself that he’s left that life behind before taking the bag. Inside is a thing of tupperware, complete with a sticky note signed with the letters “R.G.” and a shabby doodle of a bike. Casey remembers the man from yesterday and two weeks before that, and how he promised lunch today.
“Someone brought you lunch, eh? You got a missus waitin’ on y’at home, huh?” Jakob teases. Casey doesn’t dignify the snark comment with a response, just shakes his head subtly. Inside the tupperware is a sandwich cut perfectly in half- loaded with what looks like alfredo sauce, chicken, and cheese. It's grilled a golden brown, and after one bite, Casey sees stars. He gets the realization that he’s been living off of takeout and instant noodles for too long.
“Your girl makes some good food, huh? Ask her to bring the rest of us guys some, alright?” Jakob pats him on the shoulder- ugh- before moving on back to his lot. Seems he didn’t see Casey’s head shake. Casey won’t correct Jakob though if it means more meals for him to enjoy. Despite being his payment for a good deed, Casey feels the need to give the man an even better payback. A series of one upping, if you will.
The man with the bike beats Casey to it.
Two days later, on Friday, another bag was dropped off from the front to his workbench. It’s definitely bigger than the one from Tuesday, and inside is a box of cookies. Snickerdoodles, to be specific. They’re perfectly golden, and smell delicious.
Another note is attached, reading, “Hello, Casey! I made some desserts for my brother and the rest of my family but I had a LOT left over! I hope you enjoy them! Share some with your coworkers, will you?” Signing the note was the same initials- R.G.- and the same shabby doodle of a bike. How cute. Casey takes a majority and places them in his own lunchbox, as well as pocketing the note, before leaving the bag in the break room.
His other coworker, Mark, confronts him in the break room. “Heard you got a little thang with you now, huh loverboy? Well. Tell her she makes a damn good pastry. What, she works at a bakery or something?” Mark teases. Casey sighs, shaking his head no. He’ll entertain the idea of a fake girlfriend for a while- he wanted his actual life to stay anonymous anyways. A little white lie won’t hurt them.
Casey’s taken a liking to the awkward bicycle man. Ryland, he learns, likes to bike by in the mornings and wave at him. He sometimes eats lunch with Casey, or he’ll leave the food with another note. It isn’t another Irene- he feels no overwhelming anxiety for Ryland. Rather than making him alert, Ryland puts him at ease. It’s a different change of pace. He gets nightmares sometimes- flashes of Ryland in the elevator instead of Irene. Ryland grieving a husband and replacing him with Casey. Casey would always love Irene and Benicio, but he moved away from L.A. for good measure. Ryland is what he needs- someone to make him laugh, someone to make him calm.
Unfortunately, Casey’s coworkers are relentless. They ask about Casey ever proposing to the fake woman who brings him lunch. They tease and poke and prod, despite never saying anything about their own lives. It drives Casey up the wall. If he didn’t love his job, he’d skip town by now. Oh well. At least he’s getting free meals now.
One blazingly hot afternoon, Casey is running over time on his lunch break. An engine on this old pickup truck has a part that manufactures refuse to make, and he needs to find an alternative. Covered in grime, he hears the soft sound of heels against concrete. His mind flashes to a blonde bob in the apartment next to his before he snaps back to the engine. One of his coworkers would take care of the Woman With Heel’s car, then their day would continue.
But it wasn’t a woman. It was him- his light, his friend(?) with the kindest soul. Ryland. He’s dressed to the nines, holding a brown paper bag. He looks completely out of place.
“Hi, Casey!” He beams. Ryland puts the bag on his workbench. “I came to give you your lunch but the intern up front isn’t there to put it on your workbench. I can’t chat long though- my friend Adrian has some big art gala opening in an hour.” Ryland gives a sheepish grin.
Casey wipes his hands off on a towel, wiping his sweat away too. “That’s fine. I…I hope you have fun.” Casey can’t help but stare. He curses himself- this is a pattern of behavior he needs to end. Perversely going after kind blondes with soothing souls…get a grip, Driver!
“Oh, I will! Anyways, I gotta run- Adrian’s waiting for me in the car with their husband. It’s um- it’s fettuccine alfredo today, and I had a slice of chocolate cake leftover so I put it in there too.” Ryland smiles. There’s a pause, and it feels as if the auto shop has gone quieter too. “Well, um. I hope you like it!”
“I will,” Casey smiles. “Go have fun. Come by…anytime.” He offers out. A rare occurrence for him, sure, but love makes you do stupid things. Casey keeps telling himself it’s too early to feel love, but that flutter in his chest disagrees.
“Of course! Goodbye, Case.” Ryland beams. He turns, exiting through the doors with the clacking of his heels. Casey sighs once more, and takes his brown paper bag to the lunch room.
Ryland’s crush on this mechanic is getting out of hand. With school out, he’s had nothing productive to do except lesson planning for the next school year. Rocky, his best friend since their senior year of Highschool, had suggested cooking. Adrian, Rocky’s spouse and a good friend of Ryland’s from his academic career years, agreed. Since then, he’s hand-made every lunch he could for Casey. Of course, Rocky and Adrian get their fair share. But Ryland is hoping for a new friend out of Casey, so he puts in the effort.
There’s a car show in town, and Ryland can’t help but instantly think of Casey. Rocky teased Ryland relentlessly, Adrian occasionally butting in, about taking Casey to this show.
“Grace, come on,” Rocky shakes his shoulder as they sit on the couch in his apartment. “This mechanic- Casey, he would love it! Grace says he always takes such good care of his car. Imagine his face around many cars!”
“I dunno, Rock,” Ryland sighs. “It’d probably be like leaving work and going straight back to it- but spectating instead,” he hiccups. It’s a Friday night- he likes to get a little wine drunk and crash with Rocky and Adrian.
“But Grace, you love what you do. You teach all year long and continue to learn and teach in the summer,” Adrian sits next to Grace calmly, topping off his drink. They hold Grace’s hand as Rocky leans on Grace’s shoulder. “I think all I’ve heard is that mechanic’s name for the past few weeks. Take the initiative, Grace. Ask him out to that car show.” Adrian’s voice is calm as they offer advice. They were opposite to Rocky in that way- two beautiful souls that gravitated around one another. Ryland loved being a part of their orbit.
“Well…jeez, okay. I’ll ask him Monday.” Ryland sighs. He’ll do it! He’ll take Casey out to dinner and a car show.
“That is the spirit, friend Grace!” Rocky bounces with joy, and before Ryland can blink, both Rocky and Adrian peck his cheeks.
“Rocky would like to be your best man at the wedding I believe. I’ll be the ring bearer,” Adrian teases gently. Well, if things ever go wrong with Casey, Ryland will always have his best friends.
Casey’s night isn’t filled with the same warmth Ryland has. He lives alone in a small apartment near the auto shop- close enough to walk to. He barely sleeps most days. Sways on his feet or takes short bursts of naps. He’s grown accustomed to insomnia, but not to the nightmares. L.A has left him a shell of a man, a husk. Driver and Casey fell into two separate entities most days. Driver remembers the crunch of a face against his foot, the smash of an arm under his hammer. Casey remembers the warmth of Irene, of holding her and kissing her, of watching cartoons with Benicio. His mind torments him with these memories, especially now that Casey has a light in his life again.
Ryland. Sweet, gentle Ryland, who eats lunch with him and waves to him from his bike. Who doesn’t know the difference between a screwdriver and a wrench. Who sometimes sits at Casey’s bench and grades papers as he waits for lunch. It’s soft, it’s warm, but unfamiliar. Casey relishes in the light of him, whereas Driver feels like a child being thrown into the deep end of a pool.
He wakes up in a cold sweat on his couch- he hadn’t gotten the chance to go to bed. It was supposed to be Irene in that elevator. Irene, whose life was in danger, who he needed to kill a man to protect. But it wasn’t her. It hasn’t been for quite some time now. Driver sees Ryland Grace. Ryland standing beside him, splattered in blood and brain matter, crying as a man dies beneath Driver’s foot. Ryland, who kisses him and his stubble tickles Driver’s chin. Ryland, who calls and screams his name.
It’s 4am. Might as well get ready for the day. Casey sighs, wiping his face of sweat as he walks to the bathroom. He gets dressed in his uniform, but doesn’t recognize the face in the mirror. Doesn’t feel the familiar sting of the homemade stitches on his gut. Doesn’t notice a new warmth to his face when he thinks about the teacher that he’d befriended. Driver doesn’t know who, or what, it is. Casey tries to be as much of a man as he can.
Ryland, despite being a little hungover, is going to listen to his friends and ask Casey out. He gets ready, Rocky pestering him to bring Casey an extra cinnamon roll and Adrian judging his choice of a polo and khakis again. Ryland takes the familiar bike route to Dan’s Auto Repair and locks his bike on the bike rack. He waves hi to the teenage intern always up front, Ellie. Then, he makes his way over to Lot 3, where Casey’s workbench resides. Casey’s tinkering with something on a beat-up pick up truck. Ryland lets his presence be known by pulling out the stool.
“Hey,” Ryland greets with a smile. Casey waves but doesn’t look up, as per usual. Ryland opens his bag. “I brought you some brunch. It’s a cinnamon roll and some coffee.” Ryland sets it down on Casey’s workbench.
“Thank you.” Casey wipes his hands and face, walking to the bench. Sweet, sweet Ryland, bringing him food. He reminds himself that he’s in a different part of California now. Casey bites into the warm, gooey pastry, a gentle smile on his face. Ryland’s whipped for him, and eager to see that smile again.
“I…I wanted to ask you something.” Ryland fidgets. Casey looks at him, setting the roll back in the tupperware. He nods for Ryland to continue. Ryland takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “Well, there’s this car show coming to town. Free entry, pretty nice cars. It’s this Saturday. My um…my friends can’t make it so I was wondering if you wanted to come with me…?”
Casey feels his heart flutter. It’s good to feel something this morning other than the emptiness. He nods. “I’d like that.” He pauses. “Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in.”
Ryland whips his phone out, happily obliging. Casey puts his number in, naming the contact Casey from Auto Shop. As if they weren’t already more than that. Ryland sends him a quick and simple emoji so that Casey has his number too. He deletes the job title next to Casey’s name, and puts a little wrench and a heart. “Wait- I need a photo for the contact!” Ryland loads up the camera.
Casey pushes it away, a small smile on his face. “No, no, there’s no need.” Ryland takes the candid photo anyway, giggling. Casey just sighs and goes back to eating his cinnamon roll. They, well, Ryland, talk about nothing and everything. Casey listens. Casey listens to him complain about how doting his roommates are, about how annoying his brother is, about how he wants to visit his Uncle March in Malibu for the 4th of July weekend. It’s their routine. Familiar, sweet, and theirs.
Ryland wouldn’t consider himself to be “fussy.” Attentive to detail is a better description for his actions. But Rocky and Adrian watch him pace around in his bedroom, attempting to get ready for his Not-Really-First Date with Casey.
“Ryland, not the khakis. Please,” Adrian shakes their head, rubbing at their temples. Rocky rubs Adrian’s back in sympathy. Ryland frowns.
“Come on! They’re a neutral color! It’ll tie my outfit together.” Ryland takes them off the hanger.
“Ew. Does Grace hear himself?” Rocky shudders at Adrian. They share a disinterest in Ryland’s choice of fashion. Years of academic study and career have left Ryland permanently dressing for work. But this is a car show! With cool, hip, young people! And sleek cars and nice drinks!
Adrian, unable to take it any longer, pushes Ryland out the way. They dress him in some loose fitting jeans that accentuate his hips, a black belt, white polo with subtle blue stripes, and matching white sneakers. “There, Grace. You look 20 years younger now.”
“Ha hah. Get out of my room.” Ryland deadpans, and the couple leaves with a giggle.
Similarly, not too far away, Casey is having a similar dilemma. He’s never had a real chance to care about what he wears. There’s been no one to impress since Irene. But lingering in the back of his closet, something gold catches his eye.
In its glory, curled up into a far corner, sits his scorpion jacket. The bloodstains have faded. There’s a rip where the stab wound on his stomach resides. But the scorpion…it remains spotless. Clean. Casey isn’t that man anymore- he’s trying his best to never revert back. But the scorpion calls to Driver. Beckons him forward like Sleeping Beauty and her spinning wheel. He picks it up. Tries it on. The familiar emptiness settled in his gut once more, and his hands strain for the hammer again. He shrugs it off a few seconds later.
Casey will burn the jacket later, get rid of all reminders of a town 5 hours away. But for now, he shrugs on a simple tee shirt and some jeans, and goes on to see his light. His Ryland.
Casey picked up Ryland around 5pm that night. He greeted him at the door, walked him to the car, and opened the passenger side door for him. Ryland gave him a polite smile and thanks as Casey rounded the car to the driver’s seat.The drive to the car show was silent- a comfortable silence, one that both men could relax in. Ryland chatted about his day and gave simple directions to the venue. Casey listened, nodding along or giving his own input. Their little routine.
The venue wasn’t necessarily packed, but there was a wide variety of cars. It was placed behind some shitty dive bar, neon lights illuminating each show car. Novelty cars, older models, high tech futuristic ones…you named it, a version of it was here. After parking, Casey and Ryland walked into the venue. Ryland noticed a shift in demeanor instantly. It was as if Casey was surveying his surroundings before judging each car. His element. Ryland was expecting more excitement, but at the same time, he knew who he was on a date with. Could he consider this a date? No, Ryland. A hangout between a few new friends. No need to be perverse.
Casey felt an uncomfortable sense of familiarity in the car show. Cars with janky parts, neon lights under heat, shady mechanics and drugged-up or drunk onlookers. Open area. A good amount of exits. Enough time to get Ryland out if an altercation were to occur. But then again…it was a nice night. The cars were something familiar but not uncomfortable. He took his time with each one, answering Ryland’s questions and nodding along to the owners of the cars.
Behind the venue was a beat up plastic sign with the words, “DRAG RACING- $100 DOLLAR CASH PRIZE, $20 ENTRY FEE!” written in red sharpie. Various cars zoomed by on the rocky homemade track, and an announcer stood on a few plastic boxes with a megaphone and a $100 dollar bill in hand. Ryland looked closer. That…that was a fellow scientist. One whom he recognized from the fated UNESCO conference. The one that ruined his career in microbiology. It wasn’t the staggering waste of carbon, but his intern-slash-groupie. Apple didn’t fall far from the tree, huh? Waste Of Carbon was a failure, and it seems his protégé made money in slightly illegal places as well. Ryland sighed, and Casey looked over with a puzzled expression.
“Hm? Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just- the guy with the speaker, I um. I know him. We weren’t on the best terms. I um… his boss was the man from UNESCO.” Ryland explains sheepishly, and blushes as Casey’s eyebrows raise. He hopes the neon purple lights drown out the pink on his cheeks.
Casey feels a semblance of embarrassment for Ryland. He’d be mortified if anyone from his past appeared in his current life, especially with how good things are going. “Do you want to leave?” He felt himself ask. Or was it Driver pleading with him to keep Their Light safe? God only knows.
“Oh-oh, no! We can stay.” Ryland protests. He doesn’t want to leave just because he’s a little uncomfortable. Casey’s expression softens in a way that makes Ryland’s heart jump.
“…I meant leave the racing area. There’s more cars to look at.” Casey clarifies. He’s been getting better at that- his coworkers tease him for being too vague. He can’t help it- he thinks he’s being clear enough. Even so, he tries even harder to be gentle with Ryland for reasons Casey isn’t ready to face.
Ryland blushes further. “Yeah! Yeah, let’s leave the race. I-I think I see the Mystery Machine down there. Y’know- from Scooby Doo?” He beams. The mood lightens once more. Ryland rambles and Casey nods. Their routine.
It’s around 11pm when they leave the venue. The car show was amazing- a chance for both of them to share an interest. Ryland still can't work on a car to save his life- but at least he knows the difference between a hatchback vs a wagon. Their hands brush as Casey opens the passenger door of his car for Ryland. It’s a gentle spark.
Casey turns to Ryland from the driver’s seat. It’s quiet, the soft hum of the radio playing a techno tune. “Wanna go for a drive?” He offers. Ryland’s eyes light up, and he nods.
They speed through an empty road, windows down and LED lights illuminating the road ahead. It’s fast, it’s quick, and it exhilarates both of them to their core. It settles the ache in Casey- the adrenaline Driver relentlessly chased after he left L.A. Ryland has an ecstatic look on his face and a warmth in his cheeks that Casey wouldn’t trade for the world. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.
They pull over and back onto the main road around midnight. Casey drives Ryland home- walks him up to the front porch. Ryland stops him with a hand on his shoulder and a nervous expression before he gets the chance to walk back to the car.
“Casey. Before you go, I just-“ he sighs. “I just wanted to say that I really had fun tonight.” Ryland smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s something else.
Casey, worried about the outcome of, well, their relationship after this, blurts out the million dollar question. “Was this a date, Grace?”
“Oh- um-well!” Ryland regains more warmth in his cheeks. Red as a tomato, he fidgets. “If-if um, if you want it to be. If not, that's fine!”
“I want it to be.” Blue eyes stare into green. The only noise following is the hum of cicadas in the trees.
“…Then it was a date.” Ryland sighs. The smile reaches his eyes again. Casey smiles back.
“I’ll see you soon, Grace.” He nods. “Thank you for the date.” And before Casey knows what overcame him, he kisses Ryland’s cheek. A peck. It felt unreal, an entity separate from Casey and Driver. He wants to dart to his car, crawl into bed, and dream of the angel in front of him. Stopping him from doing that is the warmth of lips against his. Ryland’s kissing him. Soft, gentle, and unfamiliar…but a kiss nonetheless. They can’t help themselves, and share a few more kisses on the front porch of Ryland’s home once more.
“If you need to go back to Casey’s for the night, Friend Grace, me and Adrian aren’t surprised." A creak in the front door and a little voice breaks the warm, magical spell around the two men. Ryland jumps like he’s been burned.
“Rocky!” Ryland hisses at the shorter man, redder than ever. He turns back to Casey. “I…Sorry. This is Rocky, my friend. Rocky, you know Casey.”
“Of course Rocky know Casey. Hello. But I would like to sleep, Grace. It is…one thirty. In the morning.” Rocky pokes Ryland’s side. Ryland pushes Rocky away.
“Jeez, okay,” he sighs once more. “Sorry, Case. I’ll um…I’ll see you soon.”
Casey smiles. Warm, sweet, loving. “I’ll see you, Ryland. Nice to meet you, Rocky.”
Casey walks back to his car, aching for Ryland’s touch again. Oh well. He’ll see him soon.
Ryland loves his best friends, he really does, but their teasing is simply relentless. After being caught practically making out with his date on their front, Rocky saw their opportunity for teasing and took it. It’s 9am on the Sunday after their first date, and Grace is slowly coming alive to the Earth while nursing a coffee. Rocky’s brewing another pot, and Adrian’s whipping up something for breakfast.
“Grace,” Rocky nudges Adrian, “did especially well on his date last night.” He giggles. Ryland makes a choked noise, trying to not spit his coffee out.
“What do you mean?” Adrian quirks a brow. He puts the pan of bacon on the stove to medium heat.
“I opened the door around…one am. Adrian, fast asleep. There was Grace and Casey, sucking face!” Rocky laughs once more.
“Ew, don’t call it that Rock!” Ryland groans. He turns to look at Adrian. “Me and Casey…might’ve gotten a little carried away. But it’s safe to say we like each other."
Before Rocky can let another annoying tease out, Adrian covers his mouth. They smile at Grace. “I’m very happy for you. I know how nervous you were for this date. I’d love for Casey to come over to dinner.” Rocky licks Adrian’s hand, and they just sigh and uncover Rocky’s mouth.
“You sound like my uncle, Adrian.” Ryland chuckles. “Thank you though. He…he makes me very happy.”
“Grace get happy somewhere else when Casey kisses him!” Rocky giggles before Adrian pops him on the shoulder. “What???!! It’s true!”
Ryland just sighs. Mornings like this aren’t uncommon- the retelling of previous events and the jokes that come with it. The morning is always warm with the buzz of his two best friends. He lets his mind wander, thinking about how well Casey would fit into their space. Casey behind Ryland as he makes breakfast, Casey helping wash dishes and clean the kitchen up afterwards. Possibly a messy day, where they attempted baking and ended up with batter and flour smeared all over one another. Ryland blushes, realizing how stupidly domestic his fantasies sound. It’s a sickening sweetness, but a welcome one.
Rocky and Adrian pull him back to reality- Adrian serving him a beautifully cooked breakfast and Rocky chattering about his day. Ryland happily listens, letting them do the talking. The birds chirp outside the window, and the sun shines down on all three roommates from behind lace curtains. A quiet moment, that Ryland wouldn’t trade for anything else in the world.
Casey has a pleasant buzz in his chest as he goes to work Monday. His Saturday night date with Ryland had left him feeling like a new man. Driver was dead in his old car in L.A- Casey was here with Ryland. Both him and Ryland agreed to go on a few more ‘real’ dates before becoming official with one another. Casey was unable to deny the happiness he felt after Saturday though.
The garage was busy today. A few bad wrecks, a few oil changes, and unfortunately Ryland couldn’t come eat lunch. Oh well. Casey stands at his workbench, munching on Ryland’s homemade leftover chicken tikka masala. Soft indie rock floats through the garage from his new coworker’s station. Casey isn’t opposed to it- it’s better than whatever country music Mark plays.
As if on cue, Mark walks over to Casey’s station. “Hey- Case!” He beams. Casey acknowledges him with a head nod, so Mark continues. “I notice that face. Lemme guess- you took the missus out on a nice date and got a lil’ reward, huh?” He laughs, crudely.
Gross, Casey thinks. Sex has never been as important of an aspect of a relationship to him. Coincidentally, the new mechanic’s speaker plays a song that goes, “Why Do I Feel So Weird?” Casey often wonders the same. Answering Mark, he shakes his head no. He didn’t take this missus out on a date- and he’d have to reveal there is no missus soon. The thought of that is daunting.
“C’mon! You gotta take her out sometime. There’s a nice place downtown- me ‘n my spouse frequently go there. Real nice Italian joint.” Mark pokes him on the shoulder, and Casey subtly flinches.
“I’ll…I’ll think about it.” Casey sighs. It shuts Mark up, satisfying the other man, so they both go back to work. Jesus, what is he going to do?
Grace is so bored. Unbelievably bored. Rocky and Adrian are redecorating their home and are preparing for Ryland to move in. Stupid landlords and their policies on late rent. Whatever. Ikea wasn’t as fun of an idea as Ryland expected. It’s mainly just him third wheeling his two best friends. And don’t get Ryland wrong-he loves them! But not when they’re arguing over what type of bedframe they want. He wishes sometimes he was a kid again so they could drop him off in Ikea’s kiddie area.
“Grace, listen! Adrian is stupid stupid stupid. The white wood is much much better with seafoam green walls, yes?” Rocky pokes him, huffing.
“I dunno, Rock. You’re the architect.” Grace shrugs, getting another poke in return.
“It’s engineer now. Grace is stupid stupid too.” Rocky walks away, and Adrian chuckles as they trail after him. Grace pushes their shopping cart, holding his phone in one hand to text Casey.
Grace 🧪💙: do u know anything abt interior design?
Casey 🚗❤️: No, not really.
Grace 🧪💙: rocky & adri are fighting over new bedframes n shit
Grace 🧪💙: we’re redoing the whole house
Grace 🧪💙: it is!!! but hey, we’re throwing a housewarming party! you wanna come.
Casey 🚗❤️: Sure. Just tell me when 👍.
Grace 🧪💙: hehe okay baby ❤️❤️
Well, Casey would be at the housewarming party after refurbishing the home was done. There’s a bright side to everything, Ryland supposes. Even a brightside to being in the middle of a domestic dispute.
Ryland’s family situation has always been…complicated. Colt, his twin brother, was a consistent rock that he could lean on. When needed, their Uncle March would step in whenever their Mom and Dad were unable to care for them.
Slowly, Uncle March gained full custody of Colt and Ryland. They stopped treating him as their uncle and more like their dad. Holly, March’s daughter, was like an older sister to them and Jackson Healy, March’s partner, was a secondary father figure for the twins. Ryland kept in contact the best he could as they grew up…and then Colt went M.I.A for a few months. His name was eventually cleared, and he changed it from Colt Seavers back to his birth name- Colton Grace. Ryland was overjoyed to be reunited with his best friend, his brother, once more. Now, they do weekly or monthly calls with one another.
“I’m telling you, Ry, that boy loves you.” Colt says over the phone, voice a little distorted as he drives in the car.
“You don’t think it’s too soon to tell?” Ryland sighs as he puts together a cabinet from Ikea. Colt was actually driving over to help with the construction of a few things around the house. Until he was cleared to work in Hollywood once more on stunts, he was stuck living off of his girlfriend, Jody.
“C’mon, Ry. That boy kissed you like that on your first date! He does a bunch of crap for you, listens to you…and this jackass didn’t use his turn signal. Fuckin’ asshole.” Colt sighed. “Anyways. Just keep goin’ on dates with him. God knows you need a win.”
Ryland snorted. “Hey, don’t get too cocky.” His hands tinkered with the screwdriver as he secured the cabinet door into place.
“When are you planning on telling Papa March?” Colt asked. Ryland froze. March was…over the top. Ryland would never forgive himself for the embarrassment he’s subjected Rocky and Adrian to. Casey would be unable to match his energy completely- he was reserved, a little judgemental, and his past was a can of worms that Ryland was intimidated to open. March would surely make Casey run back home with his tail tucked between his legs. Ryland thinks all this without answering. “Ry? Did I lose you?” Colt asks.
“Hm? No. I-um. I dunno if I’m gonna tell Papa yet. You…you know how he gets. Remember Linda? And-eugh, Tom? And Simon?” Ryland cringes at all the partners he’s introduced March to. “Don’t even start on Rocky and Adrian. Adrian barely keeps up with him and Rocky got into that fight with him on Christmas Eve once.” He groans.
“Shit, yeah. But you gotta say something eventually. He always has those big holiday parties- bring Casey to the fourth of July cookout!” Colt suggests.
“You mean the one where Jody almost got lit on fire by a sparkler?” Ryland sighs.
“HAHA! Yeah. Man, I forgot about that. Shit was funny. I promise you, Ry, you’re doing that thing again where you spiral and nothing can ever go right. It’ll be fine.” Colt pauses. “Listen. If Casey truly loves you, he’d accept our weird ass family for how it is. Yeah?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thanks, Colt.” Ryland tests the cabinet door he was working on. Minimal squeaking, well put together. Nice one, Grace!
“Yeah, don’t mention it. Okay, see ya soon, I’m pulling up.” Colt hangs up the call before Ryland can even reach his phone. Oh well, that’s just how his twin is.
Ryland didn’t anticipate exactly how hard it was to completely refurbish a home while keeping up with lesson planning and a potential new boyfriend. He was run ragged, barely spending time with Casey and absorbed in all his responsibilities. They finished the house though, and cleaned it all up for the housewarming party. Ryland could finally relax, sending Casey the address and laying down in his new bedroom to take a nap.
Casey pulled up to the driveway of a lively large home. It was in a smaller neighborhood with a visibly higher income than his own neighborhood. He wondered what Ryland’s roommates did for work to afford such a luxurious life. The mailbox had their last names, and the last name Grace, so he was sure it was the right place. Grace didn’t answer his arrival text though. Strange, but not unusual. He could be wrapped in conversation, helping serve food or just showing off his lovely home. Casey knocks on the door.
The man who answers is not Ryland, but looks strikingly like him. There’s a few differences. The shabby beard, the bad highlights and frosted tips, not to mention the purely athletic wear. And no glasses. Colt raises a brow. “Is…This is Ryland Grace, Rocky, and Adrian’s housewarming party, yes?”
“Yeah man, come in!” The Man (not Ryland) beams, letting him in. Casey’s suspicious of him immediately. Who was this man? Where was Ryland? He spots Rocky and Adrian- curled up in the conversation pit talking to some equally classy people. Casey feels just as out of place as the man in athletic wear next to him.
“Do you know where Ryland is? I came here for him.” Casey asks. The Man beside him instantly gives him a side eye. Casey notices the shift in body language, he’s locked up at the mention of Ryland.
“Why? He invite you?” The Man raises a brow at Casey. Casey matches his defensive stance with a roll of his own shoulders.
“He did, actually. And who are you to him?” Casey responds. Before either one of them could snap at each other, Ryland comes down the staircase. Rocky and Adrian greet him happily, teasing him. Ryland says hi to everyone then spots Casey. He beams, rushing over.
“Casey, you came! And you met Colt!” Ryland beams, hugging him.
Casey hugs back. “Hey. And…Colt?” He pulls back to look at Ryland, then gestures to The Man beside them with a tilt of his head. “That’s Colt?”
“Yeah, he’s my twin.” Ryland giggles. That explains the striking physical similarities and defensiveness against Ryland’s name.
“Oh, crap, you’re Casey!” The Man- Colt- says with a tease. “Ryland’s told me so much about you. Nice to put a face to the name. Colt Seavers.” He extends a hand to shake.
Casey sighs, shaking his hand with an equally firm grip. He doesn’t particularly like shaking hands, the last time he shook hands with a man in athletic wear it got him almost killed. But this is Ryland’s brother, there’s no cause for concern. They stop shaking hands after about 4 ½ seconds. No, he wasn’t counting.
“I’m glad you guys are getting along.” Ryland smiles, holding onto Casey’s hand. Casey squeezes his hand back. He’s missed him. They’d seen each other less and less as Ryland had more responsibilities to take care of. Casey would be a fool to deny the yearning feeling he gets for Ryland.
The party has music now, Casey sees out of the corner of his eye as Adrian turns a speaker on. Nice, lively jazz swings through the house. Seems as if Casey was the last to arrive. He isn’t upset about that, he’s glad no one followed him in. He notes the exits, the new pool outside, the wallpapers a cool seafoam green. Ryland snaps him back to reality.
“Hello? Earth to Casey? I was asking if you want a drink, honey. Or something to eat.” Ryland offers. Colt’s already pouring himself a wine and going to sit by some blonde woman that Casey doesn’t know.
“No alcohol, I’m driving home. I’d like something to eat.” Casey shrugs. Ryland’s made dinner, it seems. Wonderful as ever- it’s a wide selection of pasta and finger food. Everyone happily eats and chats in the conversation pit, which is where Ryland drags Casey to. Casey greets a few other people with a nod as Ryland introduces him.
Casey can’t leave Ryland’s side the whole night. It feels magnetic, as if something was forcefully pulling them together. They were almost as bad with PDA as Rocky and Adrian, and those two were awful. Ryland would laugh and curl against Casey tighter, grip his arm a little firmer. The warmth that radiated off of Ryland was entrancing, and like a moth to a flame, Casey gravitated toward it. They walked around the house together, Ryland giggling and smiling at him all the while. The party continued on for a good while, everyone a little wine drunk except for Casey and Ryland. They sat away from the party, sitting by the pool now. The soft blue hue of light shined on Ryland’s face perfectly in the darkness that surrounded them.
Music drifted from the house to outside. Inside, Ryland could see Rocky and Adrian dance together a little with their own friends. Colt and Jody had their own dancing going on as well. Ryland giggled, turning to Casey. “Do you dance?”
“…Not really. I never…I never really dance.” Casey shrugged. He ran his thumb over the back of Ryland’s knuckles. Ryland looked shocked.
“Never? You’ve gotta be kidding. I-I mean. Everyone dances at least once.” Ryland rolls his eyes when Casey shakes his head again. He stands. “Come on, just try it with me. We don’t have to do anything crazy.” Ryland pulled Casey up, interlocking their hands. The song drifted around them as Ryland led them to a comfortable sway. His hand on Casey’s waist, his other hand holding Casey’s hand.
Two lonely people, we were strangers in the night
Up to the moment when we said the first “Hello,”
Little did we know, love was just a glance away
A warm embracing dance away…
Ryland blushed, glancing away from their eye contact. He chuckled. “Kind of…kind of fitting, huh?” He laughed nervously again. Casey returned the smile, breaking the tension in the air by placing a soft kiss to the side of Ryland’s mouth. Ryland sighed, going in for the full kiss. The music from inside slowed, the instrumental swelling around them as they shared a loving kiss right beside the pool. Mouth against mouth, a desperate yearn for one another that neither of them knew they had.
They kissed, and kissed, and kissed. Still swaying, still moving, until Ryland lost his footing. Soon, both of them fell into the pool with a startled noise, gasping as they came up for air. Ryland looked mortified, red in the face. “Aw, man! I’m so sorry Case…y.” He paused. Casey was giggling. Not even giggling, full on laughing. It was such a stupid, rom-com movie moment, and it had tickled Casey to hell and back. Ryland laughed with him, holding onto him once more.
“Hey, jackasses! Rocky and Adrian and Grace throw housewarming party! Not pool party!” Rocky shouts from the back door. Ryland looks up.
“I’m just showing him the water temperature, Rocky!” Ryland laughs again, swimming back up with Casey. Rocky mutters a few words of disappointment to himself, heading back inside. Ryland and Casey keep laughing until their sides get sore, going inside and upstairs into Ryland’s bedroom. The party still goes on downstairs, but up in Ryland’s room, they share a comfortable buzz. Casey borrows some of Ryland’s clothes, and unless one of them is showering, they can’t keep their hands off of one another. They continue their poolside activities, laying down with one another, giggling and kissing. It’s beautifully domestic, and it’s theirs.
