I feel like you’ll appreciate my story of running into Jeremy last year at RTX and how much the tiny man loves his wife. Last year at RTX, Caiti and Kat sold homemade candles, right? So, because I like candles and supporting lovely ladies, I’m at the booth first thing Friday morning. Kat is the one helping me (and is totally super sweet and amazing) when suddenly I hear a Bane voice over my shoulder saying “10 of your finest candles, please.” (1/2)
I turn (and kinda have to look down because 5’8”) to find one Jeremy Dooley hovering next to me, grinning at Kat like he’s the funniest motherfucker on Earth. Ofc, my frazzled brain just spits out “Hi, Jeremy!” And he looks at me with this big grin and just goes “Hi!” all happy as could be. I got a hug, an autograph, and a pic with him after I bought my candles because the sweetheart stuck around to say hi to the people buying candles. Can confirm: great hugs. (2/2)
I’M CRYING THIS IS SO CUTE HE’S SO STUPID I LOVE HIM SO MUCH THATS SO SWEET AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Summary: He watched the words slowly and haltingly appear, before slowly fading, never comprehending their meaning. How could he, when he couldn’t read them? They meant no more to him than if someone simply scribbled on his skin.
Warnings: Mentions of past child neglect, mentions of blood
Word Count: 5,715 words
When the first words appeared on his arm, he was fourteen. They were scribbly and clumsy, very much the writing of a child just learning to write. He watched the words slowly and haltingly appear, before slowly fading, never comprehending their meaning. How could he, when he couldn’t read them? They meant no more to him than if someone simply scribbled on his skin.
He was fourteen in rural Georgia, a child the system forgot. He never went to school. He never learned to understand the words he saw around him. They never wanted to spend the money to send him to school. Not when they could buy booze and drugs and all the vices they could ever want.
He was the child they never wanted. And he knew it.
But, never, in his fourteen years, did he so desperately want to know what words said. He knew why the words appeared on his arm; it was one of the only good things they taught him. They were the words of his soulmate. A way of communicating between them until they could finally meet.
More scribbling words appeared, and he recognized a question mark ending the sentence, standing starkly against his skin. He was being asked a question. A question he couldn’t answer. His eyes squeezed shut, pulling his arm to his chest like he had been physically injured, feeling far more lonely than he ever had.
The words faded. And his skin stayed as blank as it had been every day before.
He was seventeen when a different hand graced his skin. A year short of being able to leave his prison of loneliness and pain. And on his skin was the writing of a child, different yet similar to that day three years ago. He recognized the word now, the innocent question of ‘Hello?’. And he scrambled to get a pen, to finally respond. His knowledge of words were limited, but he had to try.
He froze when another’s writing appeared next to the first. The letters were less clumsy now, but still the same scribbly shape. And it took his rather frazzled brain a moment to realize there were two people writing to him. Not one, but two. Two soulmates. It had to be a joke. He didn’t expect one, let alone two. But, yet, the conversation had continued on his arm, and he realized they had no idea. They didn’t know he even existed.
So he did the only thing he could. He drew a little heart. And he watched the ink sink into his skin, to be replaced with more words he didn’t quite understand. But he caught names. He had names.
‘Gavin.’ read the scribbly hand from before.
‘Jeremy.’ said the newest.
And he so desperately wanted to write his own name. To join them, to show them that their was a third to their connection. But he stopped before he could get the pen to his arm. They wouldn’t want him, would they? No one else ever had. He was broken, wasn’t he? He could barely read. Barely write. He was silent.
As the words continued to flow on his skin, he lowered the pen. It was for the best, wasn’t it? They…they would be happier this way.
That didn’t mean he didn’t watch. That he didn’t try to learn. Even as he stole what he could from his parents, gathered up his meager belongings on his eighteenth birthday, and used the money from pawning what he could to hitchhike his way from Georgia to the only city he could afford.
Los Santos, California was a dirty, gritty, crime-ridden hellhole where cops were as crooked as the criminals they chased. What else was there for an eighteen-year-old who never learned anything of use? He used his last few dollars to buy a mask, a cheap latex thing whose smell made him nearly gag the first time he pulled it on. A black skull grinned back at him from the mirror in the little beachside stall.
A skull that would become the symbol of a silent monster.
But, for now, it was the only thing keeping this scared, silent teen from being caught. From ending up in jail for theft. He started with small convenience stores, brandishing a hunting knife and gesturing to the register, the teens, not much younger than himself, shaking as they threw what they could into a plastic bag.
It was normally just enough for him to buy something to eat, to make his complaining stomach content for one night.
Eventually, he graduated from a knife to a scratched pistol, one that definitely wasn’t legal, not that he cared. It did the job far better than the knife did.
He stole a jacket from a thrift store when the winds were cold. A leather one, far nicer than anything he ever had before. Blue on the shoulders, silver wrapping around his wrists and upper arms, black down the rest.
Somewhere along the way he picked up a moniker or two, little names the cops liked to call him. Black Skull was one. The Ghost was another. But, by far his favorite, was the one that fit him the best. Vagabond. He wore his new name with a dark sense of pride.
The first time he killed, it was because he was paid to. It was good money, and an easy hit. Some minor dealer who had screwed over someone with more money than sense. It was quick and clean, though his conscience begged to differ on the last point. Clean wasn’t the word he would use to describe how he felt anymore.
But the money finally allowed him to rent an apartment. A tiny studio in a shitty neighborhood, but, for the first time, the Vagabond had a home of his own.
The words still appeared on his skin. Entire conversations he was slowly learning. Words he finally understood. But, still, he never joined in. He never added his own writing to the mix, though, sometimes, it would all become too much and he would draw a little doodle. A desperate attempt to be recognized. He never was.
It was for the best, he told himself. Not only was he broken, now, but he was also a wanted man. A criminal. They didn’t deserve that, did they?
Sometimes, he liked to pretend everything was different. He liked to think about the what ifs. What it would be like to have someone care. Not just someone, though, but a soulmate. Or two. He wondered what it would be like to have someone there to gently bandage up his wounds, to tell him he was an idiot for doing what he did.
He always woke up.
That was the hardest part. Waking up to reality. Realizing his life would never be like he dreamt it to be. And it only served to make him colder. Far more bitter. And as the years progressed, so did his progression into the depths of apathy. As his kill count rose, so did the numb feeling gripping his chest.
By the time he was in this thirties, The Vagabond was a name known in infamy. He had moved past the tiny rundown studio into an apartment among the rich and famous of Vinewood. They never knew the quiet and reserved neighbor next door was a killer. A monster without a conscience. At least, not a conscience he showed.
The words had stopped. And he accepted that maybe, just maybe, they had found each other. That they were happy. That, or the dark part of him, the pessimist, figured one was dead. He kept a hold on the optimistic part of him, the last bit of good he could find in himself. They were happy, he told himself every night his arm stayed blank, they were happy. Without him. And it was for the best.
He was 36 when he was approached by a man with a reputation as terrifying as his own. Geoff Ramsey was not a man to be taken lightly, even if he did regard you with amused ease. He could tell that this man wasn’t as laid back as he seemed and was every bit as dangerous as he, himself, was. But Ramsey wasn’t there to kill him. Or to hire him, necessarily. At least, not in the way he was used to.
“We could use your kind of manpower, Vagabond,” Ramsey was saying, small smirk on his face as he spoke, his second-in-command, Pattillo, regarding him warily. He was used to that. He wasn’t quite used to the nonchalance Ramsey was projecting, “Your skills are legendary. And we have a few jobs coming up that we could really use you for.”
He stayed silent, as he ways did, sizing Ramsey up as if trying to determine what his best course of action could be. He knew of the jobs the Fake AH Crew pulled. Things of spectacle, more for the adrenaline than for the take, though they millions they gathered certainly wasn’t something to bat an eye at.
He was a simple man. A simple man of simple jobs. Get in, kill, get out, get paid. That was his life.
But he had been getting bored. It was too easy anymore. Too easy to shoot a gun or slit a throat. And, maybe, this is what he needed. A change.
He stared at Ramsey, long enough for Pattillo to get antsy, her movements tense. But never once did Ramsey waver, the smirk ever present as he weighed his options. And finally, finally he decided.
With a sharp nod, he found himself riding with Ramsey and Pattillo to another location. Not their main base of operations, not just yet, which he found to be fair. After all, he hadn’t proven himself to them just yet, if he even chose to do so.
And it was in the lounge room of that secondary base that his whole world spun. He knew there was something about the man in purple and orange harassing the man dressed in clothing more expensive than his apartment. There was something, he knew. And his instincts were rarely wrong.
“Vagabond,” Ramsey — Geoff as he told him to call him — said, gesturing to not only the two on the couch, but a man lounging in one of the chairs, watching him with narrowed eyes, “This is the main crew. That’s Michael,” Geoff motioned to the man in the chair before motioning at the duo on the couch, staring at him with wide eyes.
“And these two assholes are Gavin and Jeremy.”
He felt his stomach turn to lead. It couldn’t be, could it? They were common names, but what were the chances? The chances that he would find two together. No, he was thinking too hard on this, getting his hopes up too high. It wasn’t them. It couldn’t be them.
Despite his inner turmoil, his face stayed blank behind the mask, never letting them see what he really felt.
“Uh…hi,” Jeremy spoke finally, Gavin seeming to hide behind him, peeking out to regard Vagabond with a mix of fear and interest, “Welcome to the shitshow, I guess?”
He wanted to laugh; instead he gave them an awkward wave, arm dropping after a moment. Michael was still staring, calculating, even as Jeremy and Gavin seemed to realize he wasn’t entirely a threat. At least, not at this point.
“Jesus, the stories don’t fucking lie, do they? You are quiet as shit,” Michael finally spoke, Vagabond turning his head to regard him, even as Michael continued, “What, you don’t talk at all?”
He decided to humor the bravery. Stupid bravery, but bravery none-the-less. He shook his head slowly. That seemed to pique the interest of the others, Gavin finally speaking to him, a surprising British lilt to his voice.
“Wait, really? Is it that you can’t? Or just don’t like to?”
He hesitated for a moment. He absolutely could speak, physically at least. But mental scars were just as powerful as physical ones, and so he held up one finger, allowing them to take a moment to realize what it meant.
“Oh. So you can’t,” Jeremy realized first, a simultaneous chorus of ‘oh’ following his words, “Alright, fair enough. That sucks, but we can work with it.”
Somehow, just that little acceptance meant more to him than anything else ever did.
Geoff hadn’t been lying when he said they had jobs coming up; he hadn’t expected that “coming up” meant in two days. Then again, he’d done jobs in a quicker turnaround, that’s not what was concerning to him. He could do it, he knew, as Geoff explained his role as their tank and intimidation man.
What was concerning was when they tried to figure out how they would communicate with him.
“Obviously, you’ll have an earpiece, so you can hear us. But we need a way for you to be able to talk to us in return,” Geoff mused, cocking his head in thought. Vagabond knew what was coming. He knew what they would suggest.
“What about text?” Jack supplied, as he knew she would, and he felt the burn of humiliation flare in his gut. Something, despite his carefully crafted facade, must have shown on his face, and, to his horror, Geoff tossed a pad of paper at him, followed closely by a pen.
“Since you look like you hate that idea, how about you tell us how you want this to go.”
Slowly, he lifted the pad and pen, staring at it for a moment, wondering if he could bullshit his way out of this. But with all eyes on him, he wrote the only explanation he could, turning the pad once he lowered the pen. His gaze was fixed firmly on the chipboard back of the legal pad as the room felt silent, reading the two words he managed to write out.
“You…you can’t read?” Gavin was the first to get over his shock, and he could feel the burning gazes on him as he refused to meet their eyes, “How do you not know how to read?”
He picked up the pad again and wrote out two more words: ‘never school’.
Geoff sat back, surprise plain on his face, “You never went to school? What the fuck, really?”
A mournful nod answered his question and Geoff ran a hand through his already messy hair. He turned the pad back and wrote a final word, hoping his sincerity shone though even the mask.
‘Sorry’.
“Shit, dude. I doubt it’s your fault. But that’s fucking shitty. I mean, it looks like you know a bit. You teach yourself, buddy?”
He nodded, something like relief in his chest that he wasn’t being mocked or, god forbid, pitied.
“What about hand gestures? Could we do that? Like, come up with shit he could use?” Michael piped up, and Vagabond blinked. They still wanted to work with him? Despite the fact he couldn’t talk or read or write?
“Michael, that’s brilliant, Michael!” Gavin bounced in his seat, grinning widely. Geoff hummed thoughtfully, though it seemed like Jack still had doubts.
“We’ll have to keep eyes on him at all times, though.”
“I can be his voice, yeah?” Gavin offered, “I’ll be watching you on the cameras anyway, so as long as he makes the motions at the cameras, I can translate.”
Geoff nodded, seeming appeased, “Alright, if he’s okay with it, we can do that. Whaddya say, buddy? Will that work?”
Vagabond hesitated before nodding, still surprised they were willing to go this far for him. They didn’t even know him, but they knew his skills. And that’s what they wanted, wasn’t it? Anything to make this work.
So, they set up a series of gestures for him to use to mean everything from ‘cops are coming’ to ‘you’re an asshole’. That last one was specifically for Gavin, created by Michael, who only laughed when Gavin sputtered his offense.
To his surprise, it worked like a charm. Gavin was in his ear, relaying his signals to everyone else. And the crew, he found, worked together like a well-oiled machine. Despite their playful arguing and ribbing, they worked well together when they needed to. Of course, they still had their fun, teasing and kidding and playfully fighting; it wouldn’t be them without it. He learned that quickly, and he found it a refreshing change to his normal humorless clients.
Gavin had drinks ready for them the moment they burst through the safe house door, laughing and cheering, far too much money in the bags they carried. They turned on the TV, laughing at the scrambling police being reported by Weasel News, the reports saying they had disappeared as they normally did.
Vagabond felt himself grin under the latex, having had far more fun than he had in years, the adrenaline thrumming through his veins welcome after the guilt that normally plagued his jobs.
“Drinks for everyone! Except Skeletor over there. Someone get him a Diet,” Geoff crowed as he tossed down his duffel bag, catching the Diet thrown to him as well.
For the first time in years, he felt relaxed and welcome among people. Enough so he did something he hadn’t done since he bought it: he pulled the mask off in front of someone.
He was fully aware of the stunned silence the move had ushered in, and he preoccupied himself with his drink instead, not looking at anyone. At least, until Geoff swore and pulled out his wallet to throw a hundred at Jeremy, the others following suit with a grumble.
He stared at Jeremy, raising an eyebrow in question as he pocketed his newly acquired winnings. And Jeremy at least had the decency to look sheepish.
“We, uh, had a bet. About what you looked like. I said you looked like a normal guy. Gavin said you had at least one scar. The others said you had to be hiding something. So, uh, thanks for not having scars or tattoos on your face, dude.”
He let out a snort of amusement, shaking his head, shooting Jeremy a thumbs up.
“Oh, shit, dude, you got him to laugh,” Michael exclaimed, a laugh in his own voice. Vagabond shot him an amused look, smirk on his lips.
Yeah, he liked these people. They didn’t take themselves seriously. They were misfits in their own right, weren’t they? But they didn’t care. They didn’t care what the outside world said about them, or thought about them. They were content to be themselves, even if that meant they were criminals.
For the first time, he didn’t feel so alone.
The drinks loosened their tongues, making them laugh and talk and lowering their inhibitions. And he watched them tease and fight and play around with each other, Jeremy and Michael arm wrestling, Michael losing all three times he tried. Geoff, of course, goaded it on with his infectious laughter. And Gavin, his little voice in his ear, had settled quite close, grinning widely at the chaos.
Then he seemed to make a discovery, “Vagabond. You’re not scary at all, Vagabond!”
He turned his head to give Gavin an ‘oh really?’ kind of gaze. The others had quieted to watch the exchange in interest.
“I mean, you can do scary stuff, yeah? But you’re not scary at all! Unless…” Gavin seemed to think for a moment, “Unless, you have a scary name. I mean, your name isn’t Vagabond, right?”
“Yes, Gavin, the guy’s name is actually Vagabond,” Jeremy deadpanned, flopping down next to Gavin, almost as if he was going to try and distract Gavin from asking any more questions. But he was feeling grateful, really. Enough that he figured why not?
He grabbed a pad of paper again, surprising the rest of them, writing the first thing he ever learned to write. His name.
‘James Ryan’ he wrote, a little underline under Ryan. He always hated being called James, the name he associated with pain and neglect. He handed the little pad to Jeremy and Gavin, Jeremy reading it off to the rest of the room.
“James Ryan. Emphasis on the Ryan, huh?” Ryan nodded, smiling sheepishly. Gavin was watching him with far more intent than before, as if he was trying to figure out yet another revelation.
“You look like a Ryan,” he finally proclaimed, Ryan snorting again, giving him another amused look.
“So, are you telling us all this because you’re planning on murdering us, or what?” Geoff raised an eyebrow, equal parts amused and worried.
It didn’t help when all Ryan did was give him an innocent smile.
The next job went without a hitch as well. And so did the next. And the one after that. Six months after Geoff had first come to him, Ryan found himself officially part of the Fake AH Crew. Being part of a crew had never seemed like something he could have ever had, but here he was, shoving Gavin off the couch so he could sit, if just to hear the squawking he made as he landed on the floor, Jeremy laughing despite himself.
That was something else he discovered within weeks of joining the crew. Jeremy and Gavin were dating, soulmates according to Jack. Much like her and Geoff were. And Michael and Lindsay, one of the B-Team who kept the crew running smoothly.
And Ryan had very little doubt any more that this was the same Gavin and Jeremy whose words graced his skin once upon a time. Despite everything, though, he still couldn’t bring himself to tell them. To show them that he was part of them, too. They were so happy, he saw it every time they were together. Part of him was glad he had been right, that they had found each other. But the other part longed for them to love him, too.
But they never would. Because they would never know. Right?
Then, bless them, they came to them with a determination he had seen before, a plan forming in their minds that he could only go along with.
“We want to teach you to read, Ryan,” Jeremy spoke one day, surprising him, “It’s not fair you never got to learn and we wanna fix it.”
His expression read ‘seriously?’, an eyebrow raised in question. They could read him so well anymore.
“We do! We want to teach you, Ryan. Please let us, yeah?” Gavin asked brightly, his enthusiasm infectious as Ryan let out a sigh, exasperated but accepting.
“Is that a yes?”
He nodded.
And that’s how he started sitting with Gavin and Jeremy every other night, kids’ workbooks open on his lap, listening as they pointed out words, and taught him what they sounded like, how to write them out, what they meant. And while there were moments where he wanted to throw the damn workbook across the room, the proud smiles he would receive when he managed to learn something kept him going.
For months they continued like this. Ryan learning quickly, Michael teaching him a few words the workbooks didn’t, Ryan able to call Jeremy an asshole when he laughed about something. Of course, they yelled at Michael for it, not that Michael actually gave a shit. Ryan just liked being able to finally write ‘fuck you’.
In the summer heat, they sat on the patio of the Penthouse, whiteboards in hand, practicing Ryan’s writing and sentence structure, occasionally correcting his spelling. And it was this night, in the dying light of the Southern California sun, that he was almost exposed. That they almost discovered what they meant to him. And what he didn’t mean to them.
It was playful, he knew, when Jeremy wrote something on his arm, meant for just Gavin to see. But he felt the ink rise on his own arm, and he tried to hide it. Tried to keep it out of view. But Gavin was more observant than most people gave him credit for. He was also curious. Very curious.
“Ryan, what was on your arm, Ryan?”
If he spoke, he absolutely would have been swearing right then. Instead he just shook his head, arm still under the table, even if he knew the ink was gone. They couldn’t know. They were happy, and he wasn’t about to ruin it.
“Ryan, was that a message from your soulmate?” Jeremy asked quietly, something almost upset in his voice. That made Ryan pause, if only for a moment. He couldn’t lie to them. He couldn’t. So all he did was nod, slow and small, cradling his arm to his chest like it had been burned. There was something in both their gazes, something he couldn’t pinpoint but almost seemed like disappointment.
But why would they be disappointed?
“What are they like?” Gavin asked quietly, Ryan shrugging in response. He couldn’t very well tell them, could he. It wasn’t lying, right?
Gavin looked quite confused at his shrug, “You’ve never talked to them? Written back?”
Ryan shook his head, their confusion deepening.
“But you can now. So why don’t you?” Jeremy’s voice was soft and concerned, “Surely you want to know about them?”
And Ryan looked away, something aching in his chest, shaking his head and writing on the board as best he could, ‘It’s better this way.’
They didn’t talk about it again, but it seemed like it had driven a wedge between him and Gavin and Jeremy. And it hurt. But he was no stranger to hurt, to being rejected. They continued the lessons, but it was as if there was a wall between them, and Ryan had no idea how to get back though.
But it was for the best, wasn’t it?
Then it all went wrong in the form of an ill-timed and ill-placed grenade. It had been fine until their target figured out what was about to happen. Then it all went to hell. Ryan was no stranger to firefights; he had seen his fair share, after all.
But explosives is where the plan fell apart. Michael had rigged the warehouse to blow once they were done, a final ‘fuck you’ to this nuisance of a gang. They just didn’t expect this gang to have as much firepower as they did. But, yet, here they were.
They were running for the door when the grenade hit the floor. Far too close to one of Michael’s hidden charges. And at the back of the line, it wasn’t like his gestures were going to be of much use.
So he did the only thing he could.
“Run!“
The crew didn’t hesitate to bolt for the door, despite the voice, hoarse and rough and deep, wasn’t one they recognized. It was only once they heard the beginnings of the explosions, the sight of half of the warehouse crumbling mere feet from them, that they realized to whom the voice belonged.
And he wasn’t there.
Under the debris of concrete and steel and dust, Ryan choked out painful gasps, the feeling of blood trickling down his skin, the feeling of being trapped nearly overwhelming him. But, beyond the ringing in his ears, he thought he could hear yelling. His name echoing from the dust. His mouth felt dry and his throat on fire, but he still had one way of telling them. Of letting them know he was still there.
Through his limited movement he managed to pull the pen from his jacket pocket. His jacket was ripped just enough he could get to his arm; wiping away the dust and blood, he began to write.
“Gavin! Gavin, look,” Jeremy’s yelling had caused them all to stop in their desperate searching, but Jeremy wasn’t looking in the rubble, but at his arm. And from where Geoff could see Gavin’s bare arm, ink had started to appear, small and halting, but there.
‘I’m sorry I never told you. You were happy. Thank you for everything. - Ryan’
For a moment, it seemed like the world stopped. Their breath caught in their chests; this was his goodbye. A goodbye to not just the soulmates he never got to truly have, but to the crew who accepted him despite it all.
And they would be damned if this was going to be it.
“We’re going to find you, you fucker, and I’m going to kick your ass personally!” Geoff howled to the rubble, his digging renewed, heaving chunks of concrete away. They all started digging once more, but not before Jeremy wrote back.
‘Don’t you die on us now, fucker. We’re getting you out of here.’
It was the last thing Ryan remembered seeing.
There were blurs, there was pain, there were gentle voices, there were soft hands. If this is what death felt like, then he was alright with it. It was quiet and gentle and warm and safe. He thought he could see sunlight. He thought he could hear quiet words telling him he’d be okay. He felt numb, but it was so much better than the burning, choking pain from before.
He awoke to the dying light of a setting sun shining though the partially drawn blinds on his bedroom windows. His bedroom. He was in the Penthouse. He was alive. And he wasn’t alone.
“Ryan? Ryan, you awake?” Jeremy sounded close, and as his head lolled to the side, his blurry vision found not just Jeremy, but Gavin as well, watching him with a tired sort of hope, “You with us?”
Slowly, Ryan nodded, fingers folding around the hand in his; Gavin’s if he was right, soft and warm.
“God, Ryan, you…you gave us a scare. We…we thought we were too late when we found you,” Gavin’s voice was shaking, upset and Ryan squeezed just a bit more, “You were so damn still. We only realized you…you were still alive when you cried out. But, even then…Jesus…”
“I’m…sorry…,” the words were halting, pained, but still there. And both Gavin and Jeremy seemed to stop, surprise in their gazes, but pleased grins splitting their lips.
“It was you…in the warehouse. You spoke. Just…just like now,” Jeremy was smiling widely, their worry melting into glee at something so simple as his voice. No one had ever been so happy to hear him speak. He smiled shyly back, nodding just a bit.
“Didn’t…want you guys…getting hurt…”
Gavin reached over to give him a gentle swat to the head, “Yet you thought it was fine for you to get hurt?”
Ryan shrugged, apologetic smile on his lips. Gavin sighed, “You’re a damn donut.”
“I think there’s something else we need to talk about with you, Ryan,” Jeremy had grown serious again, voice gentle. He felt his heart leap to his throat, nervousness gripping his entire being.
“Do you still think it’s for the best that we don’t know?” there was something so sad in the way Jeremy said it, “That we’d be happier without you?”
Ryan looked away, letting out a soft sigh, “You were happy…I didn’t…want to ruin that…I know…I know I’m not worth much…”
“Bullshit.“ Gavin said it with such force that Ryan actually jumped, started gaze on Gavin’s pained face, “That’s bullshit, Ryan. You’re worth the damn world. And it’s awful that no one ever told you that.”
He didn’t want to get his hopes up. He didn’t want to be disappointed again. But God he wanted to believe they actually thought that. That they honestly thought so much of him, the silent, illiterate mercenary from Georgia, who never had anyone listen to a word he ever said. Until now.
“You don’t believe us, do you?” Trust Jeremy to see right through him.
“It’s…hard to believe.”
“Then…,” Jeremy sounded as nervous as Ryan felt, licking his lips, “Will you…let us show you?”
He cocked his head, hope building a painful bubble in his chest, “Show me?”
“Well, you are our soulmate, yeah?” Gavin had returned to a soft, almost shy smile as he squeezed Ryan’s larger hand, “Will you allow us to finally take our place as such?”
“You…you actually…want to be?”
“Of course! Jesus, Ryan, of course we do! Fuck, it nearly wrecked us when we realized you had a soulmate that may not have been us.”
It finally dawned on him why they had seemed so disappointed that night. Why they had raised the wall. Because they had come to care too much. They had been protecting themselves as much as Ryan had been.
It only took him a moment to decide.
“If…if you’ll have me…”
He let out a soft ‘oof’ as the two tumbled into the bed with him, pulling him into the warmest hug he had ever received, still wary of his injuries, not that he cared about those, despite the burning pain they caused. Instead, he focused on the arms around him, the joyful giggling in his ear as his own arms slowly wrapped around each of them. And as the giggling died down, they had one more question to softly ask of him.
“Ryan? Can…can we kiss you, Ryan?”
He let out a soft laugh, nodding with a shy smile.
Gavin’s lips were soft as they connected with his, a gentle hand cupping his cheek. His eyes slipped closed as something inside him settled. It was something he never knew he needed, that sweet kiss Gavin gave him.
He only had a moment between Gavin pulling back and Jeremy closing in. And if he thought he was content after Gavin’s kiss, it was as if the entire world was right when Jeremy’s lips were on his. It was soft and sweet and warm and perfect, being in their arms like he was. For the first time in his life, he felt like he had finally found where he belonged.
And later, among the crew, he would lift a pen, and do something he should have done years ago, when he was a seventeen year old trapped in a house of no love. When the hello he understood appeared on his left arm.
On the birthday thing, as someone turning 30 in August, I can verify your 20s suck and it’s cool if you don’t figure shit out until later. I graduated college in 2013, and after 5 years in a job with my degree, I realized I hated it. So now I’m going back to school for something completely different. You got time to figure shit out, I promise. (Sorry for the random message, I just felt like you could use some cheering up) 💜🧡
im gonna post this for the other person whose birthday it is but THIS IS,,, SO SWEET,,, IMMA CRY,,,,,,,,,,
i struggle a lot with aging and like... the milestones society keeps pushing back younger and younger that you’re supposed to have done and then when i realize i’ve done none of them i start to panic. its hard to remember that everyone has different circumstances and paces their lives go.
good luck with school that’s honestly really cool of you !! i hope you find passion in your new interest!! also thanks for the rimmy tim hearts thats cute omg im BIG CRY ;-;
Summary: Gavin is stuck in a pretty empty world with four friends, trying to build the place up into something worth living in. It's a bit boring, but at least he's blessed by a god and has Jeremy with him, right?
Warnings: Mentions of blood and blood altar related harm, rated mature
Word Count: 18,460
Gavin was sure, one hundred percent positive, that whoever created this world had begun to regret their decision by now. It was possible, of course, that they were simply a sadistic bastard who enjoyed seeing them struggle to survive in the... well, the nothing that they'd been dropped into so many days ago. But there had to be a damn limit. They'd been floundering around like idiots for so long now, attempting to make something out of the nothing, that surely it wasn't worth watching anymore.
No, whoever their god was, they had to be crazy.
But they all still prayed. Of course they did. No matter what kind of world it was, and how little they'd been given to start, they were still alive here. And they had started to make progress. They had metal, and ways to process it. It was all manual labor, and took far too long, but they were getting there. Where, he didn't know, but he was sure that it was somewhere.
Despite initially giving them so little, surely all they'd done so far had been overseen and favored by the god who'd made them this world? Gavin doubted they'd all still be alive now if the divine hadn't allowed it. They'd had so many close calls, especially in the beginning when there had barely been a floor to stand on. He and Jeremy most of all, thanks to clumsiness and a fondness of taking risks, respectively.
Gavin liked to think that their god was actually quite fond of them. He was sure he'd fallen from deathly heights that could have killed him instantly. And yet, he'd managed to survive each time. Not without some bad injuries, of course, but he would take those over dying, easy.
He was being ridiculous, he knew. He was probably just extremely lucky, not experiencing any sort of godly interventions.
The thought got him through the frustrating weeks where they just seemed to be farming for materials like dirt all day, though. Today was, unfortunately, another one of those days.
Dirt duty. His favorite.
He stuffed leaves into the line of barrels with a light scowl etched onto his face. Normally he was in a good mood, but he hadn't been able to talk to anyone all day, and his leg hurt from the old break it was still in the middle of recovering from. overall, things weren't exactly going his way as of late.
"Gavin!" A voice called, the sound of footsteps pulling his attention away from the dirt-making process.
"Hey, Jeremy," He replied, pulling his expression up into a grin at the sight of the other man. "What's up?"
"Well, I need dirt," he said bluntly, tilting his head towards the large pile of it that Gavin had begun building.
"Oh," he muttered, disheartened, and turned back toward what he'd been doing. "Yeah, take whatever you want, J."
"Hey, c'mon," Jeremy frowned, leaning forward in what Gavin assumed was an attempt to see his face. Unsuccessful, he leaned back again with a small huff. "How's your leg doing today?"
Gavin shuffled his stance a bit, testing the strength of the leg he'd been taking it easy on since it broke. He could walk around well enough, but placing his full weight on that side still caused pain. "Doing alright," he said with a shrug.
"Knowing you, it'll probably be healed in only a few days," the man chuckled with a shake of his head.
"What?" he exclaimed, jerking his head towards Jeremy in surprise. "No it won't!"
"Yes it will! You're fucking blessed, dude. You absolutely should have died at least fifteen times by now, getting attacked and falling all over the place like that."
"Blessed?" Sure, he liked to think that their god liked them, but to actually consider himself blessed seemed wrong. The divine had no reason to favor anybody, especially not Gavin, considering that he actually hadn't contributed much to the development of this world yet. "If I'm blessed, then so are you."
Jeremy scoffed. "How?"
"You know everything! I'm stuffing leaves in barrels to make dirt by hand and you're over there making metal and automating shit!" he huffed. "You're like some... some little genius or something."
He saw the man's face scrunch at little, but he didn't comment. Jeremy was far too used to it by now, and Gavin doubted he was ever really bothered by it in the first place. It's not like he ever meant it in a bad way, either.
"That doesn't mean I'm blessed! I'm just throwing shit together with dumb luck. It's different than falling off the damn world and living to tell about it, Gavin."
"Why would I be blessed, though?"
Jeremy's lips pulled downwards into a small frown. "Well, I mean, I don't know. The god must like you." He shrugged.
Gavin snorted indignantly, shaking his head.
"Hey, Gav," he said, pausing until he was given full attention, "I'd bless you if I were a god."
Outright laughing, Gavin turned away again, but his smile lingered far after the giggles had faded into silence. "Sure, thanks, J." He still didn't really believe there was any real divine intervention keeping him safe. And, if there was, he stood by the fact that Jeremy had some too. But joking around with the man did make him feel rather better about it.
"What the fuck's taking you so long to get some dirt?" a new voice thundered, and both of their heads jerked to the left to see Michael walking towards them.
Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, Jeremy grinned. "Sorry, Michael. I'm getting it now."
"No flirting on the job, boys," he teased with a slightly annoyed huff. Shaking his head, he walked away again, not even bothering to make sure Jeremy actually wasgetting the dirt. Gavin didn't even bother to refute the words. Not because they were flirting, but because he knew that none of them would listen, anyway. If they wanted to tease, they would tease.
"See ya later, Gav," Jeremy hummed, and Gavin turned to see him hefting up a large sack of dirt. It looked to be almost all that he could hold.
"Need help?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn't expected him to take that much.
"Nope. I got this," he huffed, but Gavin heard the strain in his voice as he took the first step forward. "You just," a step and a grunt, "Keep at it."
"Jeremy," Gavin said, disbelief in his voice, but he didn't move forward to help, and instead let the man do as he pleased. If Jeremy was in the mood to throw out his back, he'd be damned if he let anyone stop him.
Alone again, he sighed. Gavin missed the company of his friends. Before, when they'd only have a few feet of space to move in, they'd always talked and joked together. There was never a moment of peace. Sure, they got on each other's nerves a lot, especially whenever someone had made a mistake, but he was a very tactile person. Gavin didn't like being left alone for too long. Now that their world had grown so much, and most of them had discovered something specific that they could put their attention to, he was left by himself a lot more often.
He got used to it, though. Really, he had not choice but to accept it, even if he sometimes wished things were like they used to be. As it was though, things were only going to keep moving forward.
~~~~~~~~~~
Gavin knelt before his bed, elbows resting on the mattress, his hands clasped together in front of his head, which was bowed downwards in prayer. He did so every night, and it had become such an ingrained habit that he no longer needed to think about it.
Still, he didn't exactly know if he was doing it properly. He knew how to pray, but the fact remained that they knew next to nothing about their god besides the fact that they were the one to build this world. Or - create it. The building itself had been left up to it's inhabitants. Whether that was from uncaring, cruelty, or just a boredom that begged for entertainment, Gavin had no idea. Did gods even get bored? Surely they must, right?
Either way, he chose to not dwell on it and give their god the benefit of the doubt, if only to keep himself in the deity's favor. He didn't want to insult such a high power, after all. So, he prayed. It was likely all meaningless, but he felt as though it was somehow important. Like he was benefiting them all by giving thanks for what they'd been given.
At the very least, it made him feel good, and gave him something to cling to.
He whispered easy words about the day's activities and the things they'd discovered or built, thanking the god for giving them the knowledge and materials. He also spoke of difficult things; the pain of any recent injuries, or the loneliness he often felt, and the words were thick and difficult on his tongue as he asked for guidance.
No response ever came, of course, but he liked to think the god was at least listening. He certainly wasn't blessed, but if they were even hearing his words, then that was good enough for Gavin.
Ending his nightly prayer with a yawn, he slipped into bed and easily fell asleep.
He woke up to screaming.
With a jolt, he was sitting upright and shaking the fog out of his head. At first, he wasn't quite sure if it had been real or just a dream, but after hearing it a second time, he was jumping too his feet and running, despite still being in his nightclothes. At least he had the presence of mind to grab his sword and bag as he left.
The scream had definitely belonged to Jeremy. Gavin ran towards the sound, though it sounded faraway, and at first he hadn't been sure where to go. A look downward confirmed the worst of all possible scenarios.
"Jeremy!" he yelled, leaning over the edge of the cobblestone, down into the pit that was dark enough to look endless. There Jeremy stood, on almost invisible ground, attempting to fight off what looked to be a horde of monsters. Where the hell was everyone else, and why weren't they here too?
"Gavin?" he replied, sparing a glance upwards and earning a lunge forward from a spider in return.
The sight urged him to action, and he made to follow down after the man. He'd ended up down there enough times, along with some mishandled objects, that they'd all resorted to jut building a hatch and a rope going downwards. The problem, he realized, was that the rope was now gone. No wonder Jeremy hadn't been able to escape the mob horde.
Afraid of being too late, he scrambled through a nearby chest where he was sure - he hoped - that there had been some rope. Thanking the god above with a joyous cry, he hastily tied it off to the old hatch, and let it fall downward. Before even bothering to make sure it went all the way to the bottom he jumped and slid down the rope, ignoring the burn on his hands that came as a result. That could be dealt with later.
"Jeremy!" he called again, waving his hands around in an attempt to get the man's attention. "Come on! The rope!"
"Does it look like I can get over there?" Jeremy yelled back, his voice breathless and strained as he swung his sword to keep the monsters at bay.
Frustrated and out of ideas, Gavin did the dumbest thing possible and rushed towards them all, attacking them with vigor as he tried to draw their attention to himself. If they looked his way and weren't so focused on Jeremy, then perhaps the man could find a way to escape from them and run to the rope and get to safety.
By some miracle, it kind of worked? At least half of them turned to advance on Gavin instead, and it was with a lot of cursing and various grunts of pain - the causes of which would be worried about later - that Jeremy slowly made his way to the other side of the horde, where Gavin and the rope both waited.
"Come on, Gav," the man called, "just run!" Running wasn't exactly an option, since his leg was still injured from before, and he'd exerted it so much by sprinting without thinking, but he limped as quickly as possible to the escape route he'd left for them as Jeremy urged him to hurry. Who was saving who, now?
With adrenaline thrumming through their veins, they climbed back up to safety, and collapsed on the cool cobblestone ground next to one another, breathing too heavily to even speak properly.
"Are you," he eventually gasps between breaths, "alright?"
Jeremy lifted his head to look down at himself. "I, uh, think so?" He was breathless, and his words weren't coming out as clearly as they could have, but Gavin still heard the questioning lilt to his tone. "Are you?"
"Yeah. Think so," he said, simply repeating the man's previous words. To be honest, he wasn't sure. His leg kinda hurt like hell, but that was his own fault. He didn't know if the monsters had done any damage.
Gavin forced his body up into a sitting position and looked down to inspect himself, running his hands down his chest to feel for any twinges. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Jeremy as he did the same.
"M'clothes are a little torn but I think I'm good," he murmured, the words a bit slurred as they were interrupted with an exhausted yawn. The adrenaline had finally begun to wear off, and it left him feeling drained. He looked to the other man to see how he was, and his eyes widened. "Jeremy," he gasped.
Rips and tears littered his shirt and pants, loose bits of cloth clinging by threads and threatening to fall apart. Gavin had gotten a few cuts but that was nothing compared to this. Unthinkingly, he surged forward and tugged at the fabric. it was ruined anyway, so there was no point in being gentle with it. He just needed it out out the way. He needed to see if Jeremy was okay.
He blinked owlishly at the skin there. There were cuts and scratches littering Jeremy's chest and arms, but they were small and insignificant, barely bleeding and practically healed already. And well, they've lived in close quarters for a while now, have definitely all seen one another shirtless, so Gavin was positive these hadn't been there before.
Not that he ever stared or anything.
"It's, you're, uh," he stuttered, unable to think of something to say as he looked over the man's chest in shock.
"What the fuck," the man breathed in reply, and that at least made Gavin feel a little better, as if ripping apart what had been left of Jeremy's clothes hadn't been completely unfounded. Gavin looked up to meet equally wide eyes. "It, it had been worse," Jeremy whispered, gingerly poking at the small wounds.
Gavin was still stunned silent. He had no idea what to make of any of this. He'd rushed down, certain that Jeremy was dying and, well, maybe he had been, but there was nothing to show for it now. No reason to worry, as if all injuries had simply been whisked away. A sudden relief washed over him as he finally accepted the idea that Jeremy was alive, and then he giggled, laughter bubbling from his chest unbidden and unstoppable.
"Gavin?" Jeremy asked, confusion clear in his tone. Still, the laughing didn't stop until tears had fallen down his cheeks and the corners of his mouth ached. He must look like an idiot, but honestly he was just so relieved. Jeremy was here and alive and he could barely believe it.
When he'd heard that scream, and then when he'd seen that horde cornering the man, a small part of himself had been sure Jeremy would die. He'd been so afraid, and that had been what spurred him to action without thinking. But now, to see that he was completely fine? Gavin couldn't do anything but laugh, it was so ridiculous. It felt so good though, the elation of knowing that Jeremy would live.
"Who's blessed now, J?" he chuckled brokenly.
Jeremy laughed at that, though it sounded like it had been torn from his throat. "Still you, Gav," the man murmured, poking at a particularly long tear in his shirt. Gavin tugged at it to see the skin underneath, surprised - or maybe not, really - to see a small cut, similar to Jeremy's own. Briefly, he remembered the painful sting of a sword, but now any evidence it had happened was gone.
"Oh," he mumbled. "I guess so." He'd gone compliant with the situation, a small part of his mind realized. It was too much, and he was far too strung out and exhausted to even begin to properly comprehend everything. He was defaulting at acceptance, and he wasn't sure if that worried him or not.
"How's your leg?" Jeremy asked, leaning over to inspect the limb even though he wouldn't be able to see any damage, anyway.
"It bloody hurts."
"Well, what'd you go running around for?" It was a weak attempt to make a joke out of the situation, but it made Gavin's mouth twitch upwards anyway. "Come on," Jeremy huffed, pushing himself up to his feet, "I'll help you walk back."
He leaned heavily on the shorter man as he limped back, but Jeremy's support never wavered. "What the hell is everyone else doing?" Gavin grumbled angrily as he noticed Jack's farm in the darkness of night.
"Sleeping, probably," Jeremy huffed in reply.
"So was I."
"Really? How'd you know I was down there?"
Gavin turned his head to look at the man in surprise. "What do you mean? I heard you."
"Huh. Good ears, Gav," Jeremy murmured.
"Better than everyone else's, apparently."
They made it to Gavin's bed with no problems, and thankfully, neither of their legs had given out on the walk. He dropped himself unceremoniously onto the mattress as soon as Jeremy loosened his supporting hold, groaning in discomfort. He had no fatal injuries, but was still exhausted and sore. "Thanks for walking me back, J," he hummed.
"Yup. I don't want you falling over or anything."
"Ha ha," Gavin grumbled in irritation, although a small smile could be heard in his voice, even if he was too tired to show it on his face.
Jeremy chuckled. "Night, dude. And uh, thank you for going down there after me."
He lifted his gaze to see the man's face. "Don't make me do it again," he teased softly.
"Eh, we'll see." Jeremy gave one last tired wave of his hand before he turned and left. He was long gone by the time Gavin remembered that he'd never even thought to ask why the man had been down there. As it was at the moment though, he was already falling asleep, so figuring out could wait.
But, he did remember to send thanks to their god for keeping Jeremy safe before he finally drifted off to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~
Gavin had weird dreams that night. His sleep was restful still, and by the time morning came he could barely remember them, but he was left with a strange feeling that lingered through the beginning of his day. He struggled to grasp at the memories, but that only sent them further away, and he eventually gave up trying with a frustrated huff.
His leg was sore, but he could use it well enough, and he found himself walking around, looking for Jeremy.
"Gavin!" A voice called out, and he turned to see Michael approaching.
"Hey, Michael."
"What the fuck happened to your leg now? It looks worse than before!"
"It's alright. I just..." he paused, searching for an explanation that didn't make it sound as though it was his fault. (It technically was, of course.) "I used it too much yesterday."
"You were standing in one spot all day, Gav," Michael said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Damn. They were too good of friends for him to easily believe the lie.
"Standing hurts!"
"Bullshit. What did you do?"
He was quiet for a moment. "Ran," he finally replied in a nervous tone.
"What? Why?"
Gavin sighed. "Last night, Jeremy was stuck down with the mobs."
Michael's eyes widened, and he practically gasped. "Why the fuck was he down there?"
"I don't know! I just, dunno, I heard him down there last night. It woke me up and I didn't really have time to think about it."
Michael seemed, surprisingly, stunned to silence. Usually the man could always find something to say, but now he was eerily quiet. Gavin understood. He and Jeremy both could have very easily died last night, and nobody would have realized until the next morning when they were already gone. It was a painful thought.
"Where's Jeremy now?" he finally asked.
"I was looking for him."
The man huffed angrily. "Was he planning on telling us? You both could have been killed, you fucking idiot!" And then, he turned to stalk away.
"Michael?" Gavin called after him, attempting to keep up despite the sharp pain in his leg that came with every step. It was bearable though, and the man seemed mad enough that following him felt necessary. They walked all the way to the area where Jeremy chose to reside, Michael rushing and Gavin struggling to just barely keep up.
"Jeremy! Where the hell are you?" Michael shouted, barging in. His bed was empty, but the man was not missing, and he turned from what he was doing in surprise at the shout of his name. Gavin could see the wince when Jeremy noticed who was there for him, like he knew exactly what the conversation was going to be about. Though, it was a bit obvious, really.
"Oh, hey Michael," he said, offering a smile to them both as he walked over to meet them.
"Why didn't you tell me you fell off the fucking world last night?" Michael demanded, not wasting any time with small talk and Jeremy's obvious stalling. Gavin stayed silent, shuffling nervously as he stood behind the angrier man.
"Well, I mean, I was going to?" he said, his voice uprising in the tone of a question.
Michael scowled. "How did you even stay alive down there?"
Gavin doubted either of them had an answer for that. Well, there was one, but he was still doubtful about the whole thing, and Jeremy only ever joked about it anyway. At least, he was pretty sure the man had been joking about it before. He wasn't sure what to think of the situation now, after what had happened to their injuries last night, and Jeremy was likely facing the same dilemma. He'd wanted to perhaps have an actual discussion about it, but unfortunately, he'd run into Michael first.
"Gavin came to my rescue," he laughed, with all the bravado of certainty. Gavin didn't think he'd done much saving, but it was nice to be given some credit for his mostly meaningless efforts.
"I just distracted them a bit," he murmured.
"You brought the rope back down," Jeremy insisted, and okay, maybe that part was true.
"Why was the rope gone?" Michael questioned, his eyebrows raising.
Jeremy rubbed at the back of his neck, biting his bottom lip before chuckling lightly. "It snapped when I was climbing down there."
An unreadable sort of expression crossed the man's face as his eyes flicked between the both of them. He spoke to the pair, "don't fucking go down there by yourself next time," then sighed. All anger seeming to drain out of his body at that moment. The thought of someone dying in the quiet of night was too much for any of them. "And you have to tell Geoff and Jack."
"I was going to," Jeremy nodded. Gavin couldn't help but feel like they were being scolded, but then again, Michael tended to have a very fatherly nature at times.
"Just, fucking, go back to whatever you were doing, idiots," he grumbled, and left them standing there.
They watched him leave in silence. "That went well," Jeremy hummed, finally breaking it.
"You're joking." Gavin looked over in surprise.
The man scoffed. "Well, obviously." Then, he sighed. "How are you, Gav?"
"I've been better."
With a shake of his head, but grinning just slightly, Jeremy said "Yeah, me too. Last night was just ... insane."
"That's one way to put it, sure."
Jeremy was silent for a few moments, glancing around like he was looking for some sort of way out. Gavin couldn't exactly blame him. Everything about what had happened down with the mobs the night before was difficult to think about, let alone talk about. He'd like it if they could just forget the whole thing happened, but he doubted anything good would come of doing so.
Eventually though, the man spoke again. "I'm still surprised you managed to hear me and then get to me so fast."
"You screamed, didn't you?" he asked, slightly confused. Yeah, Jeremy had been very far down from where they stood now, on actual land, but screaming was something that tended to carry pretty well.
"Yeah, but it's hard to hear from up here when someone's all the way down there. Michael says that's why we never hear the mobs, and why two people should always go together."
"Michael goes down there by himself," Gavin huffed.
"Well, he's Michael. He doesn't give a shit."
"You must have screamed pretty loud then, J."
He frowned. "Or, you just can hear extremely well."
Gavin furrowed his brows. He doubted that was the case. In fact, he probably had only average hearing at best. "I don't think so."
Jeremy looked like he wanted to protest, but clamped his mouth shut, his jaw visibly tight. Gavin didn't like that. He wanted the man to talk to him properly, not keep secrets all bottled up. Still, he didn't push the subject, and instead let their current conversation fall away into silence.
"You ran pretty fast on that leg too. I saw you limping today."
"Eh, its alright. Worth it, innit? You could have died if I hadn't gotten there fast enough."
"Would have died," Jeremy corrected. "The rope had snapped. Even if I had been able to get away from the mobs that were cornering me then, there was no way for me to get back up. I still would be stuck with them all."
"Jeremy," Gavin began, but the man shook his head.
"Gavin. Come on, man. You saved my fucking life."
Nervously, he pressed a finger against Jeremy's chest. "What about those? I didn't do that." It was vague phrasing, but he knew that the man knew exactly what he was talking about.
"I uh, I don't know about that," he muttered, looking down at his own chest before taking a glance at Gavin's too. They were both clothed, but knowing what was there - the already healed cuts - meant it didn't matter much. They didn't need to look again.
"I think you're the one that's blessed here," he said, attempting to make a joke, but sounding far more serious than he'd intended.
Jeremy simply scoffed. "I doubt it."
"What, why?"
"I already told you, Gav. Why would I be?"
Why would I be?" he countered back. Jeremy like to claim he was, but there was no more reason for him to be than the other man.
"Because you're likable."
Gavin blinked, caught by surprise at the words. He extremely doubted that. He knew that they were all friends, but he also knew that he was the biggest piece of shit out of all of them. He was the only one without a dedicated job, and got bored easily. A bored Gavin tended to mess with the people around him, and that often ended in anger. "You're out of your mind."
"No, I'm serious!"
"Why would the god like me enough to bless me? I don't do anything. At least you all are doing something to make this place better, building and inventing shit."
"Just because you're not out on a farm all day like Jack doesn't mean you don't do anything. Without you making stuff, we wouldn't be able to build anything. Besides, you're nice to have around."
A light flush bloomed on Gavin's cheeks. "You're full of shit," he muttered, but he was trying not to grin.
"I am not! The god likes you, dude."
"I don't offer them anything worth liking."
Jeremy hummed. "You're you."
"That's-" he began, but cut himself off. He didn't exactly know how to respond to that. It was oddly heartfelt. "Thanks, J."
"Anytime," he chuckled.
"I still believe what I said, though."
"What, that I'm blessed too? I don't think so," the man chuckled.
The corners of Gavin's mouth turned downwards in a slight frown. "You shouldn't be so doubtful."
"Like you're not doubtful?"
"I'm just unsure."
Jeremy outright laughed. "That's basically the same thing."
"No, it's not!" But the man was still laughed, so he sighed, giving up. After all, he couldn't exactly make Jeremy believe he was blessed or not. It was nothing short of a miracle that they were both alive right now, but realizing that, and believing it's a blessing were two completely different things. Besides, he'd meant what he said about still being unsure. Being blessed by a god sounded great, but it was still so unlikely that he wasn't going to put his faith into it. He was probably just really lucky.
"When are you going to tell Geoff and Jack about what happened?"
"Oh, damn." He'd obviously forgotten he was supposed to. "Never?"
"Michael would kill you."
He groaned. "I guess the next time I see them."
"Good luck."
"Yeah, thanks," Jeremy grumbled, but he didn't sound very thankful at all. Gavin understood, though. Explaining what had happened to Michael had been terrifying enough.
"You're not going to avoid them all day, are you?"
"No?"
"Jeremy, " Gavin chided.
"Alright, alright. No, I'm not gonna avoid them."
"Okay, good."
"Yeah, yeah. Just get out of here now," he grumbled, effectively kicking Gavin out. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"When you come to get more dirt?" Honestly, Gavin still wasn't very fond of his current job, but Jeremy had made him feel better enough about it that he felt free to joke and tease about the situation now.
"You know it."
He took his leave then, slowly finding his way back towards where he was meant to be. The limp made it difficult to walk around properly, but he wasn't in too much of a hurry. Geoff, Michael, and Jack were obviously all already busy, and Jeremy would surely be joining them in that regard.
Once he'd arrived at the barrels and sifters, he began putting them to work. And, like promised, he was visited by Jeremy a few times that day, along with one very disgruntled looking Jack.
"I heard you and Jeremy had quite the adventure last night."
"Oh, he told you."
Jack nodded. "He came to the farm."
"Yeah, Michael found out when he saw me limping around and made sure that Jeremy promised to tell you and Geoff. I mean, I think he was going to anyway, but."
"Michael," Jack filled in as an explanation, and Gavin nodded with a laugh.
"Michael," he agreed.
"I'm glad you're both okay."
"Thanks, Jack. Uh, what did you need?"
And so his day went, until night fell once again. He took the time to pay a visit to Jack in turn to grab some of the corn he was growing, and ate it while he limped around, chatting absentmindedly with the others. He enjoyed the relaxing conversations that came with the evening, once they'd all grown tired of working. Geoff had been the most stressful to talk to, since he'd been the only one Gavin hadn't seen since Jeremy told everyone what happened, but he'd relaxed soon enough. Michael had by far taken it the worst out of all of them.
Once he'd finished eating, and everyone else seemed to be growing tired too, Gavin retired back to his bed, easing himself down onto the mattress. Like the night before, it didn't take much time after he prayed before he was falling asleep again.
His dream that night was weird as well, but it felt more tangible - not so far out of his grasp. In fact, he felt as thought he remembered pieces of it. They were incomprehensible, just little flashes of light, and something like a voice, but it was still better than what he'd had before.
At least it was something.
That morning after he got dressed, he was immediately greeted by Jeremy. He hadn't even made it downstairs to the sifters and his forever waiting pile of dirt, but the man caught him on the start of the journey there.
"I got something for you, Gav," he said, bouncing on his feet and excitement clear in his voice. His hands were behind his back, and Gavin attempted to peer around and see what he was holding, but to no avail.
"Well come on then," he said with impatience. "What is it?"
With a flourish, Jeremy swung his hand forward and presented him with ... a ball of fabric? It looked a bit like yarn except ... harder. He must have been staring for too long because the man sighed.
"Its mesh, see?" he explained, grabbing onto a small portion and letting it collapse downwards. When it wasn't crumpled up, he could see the full vision.
"Oh! Oh, Jeremy! That's amazing," he cooed, reaching out and grabbing the material. It was rough and felt sturdy, nothing like the string that was currently on their sieves. "How'd you make this?"
"It's stiffened with metal. I'm hoping that it'll do a better job than what's there now."
"Brilliant, Lil J," he grinned, carefully taking the gift in his hands and gently running his finger over one of the wires.
"It's nothing," the man laughed, seeming pleased. "Let me know how it does, okay? I might be able to make an even better one if that works out."
"I will. Thank you very much, Jeremy," he hummed, and walked as fast as his leg allowed down to the sieves. He was excited. The string did an alright job, but it got tattered and didn't hold very strong. This metal that he held in his hands now was going to make his job so much easier.
He tore the string free, and carefully attached the new metal mesh, making sure that it was as tight as possible. Then, eagerly, he put it to the test.
Almost immediately, he was able to grab new items as the sand fell. He inspected each thing, turning it in his hands before dropping it into a bag. He'd bring it all to Jeremy for the man to look at. More than likely, he'd be able to use some of it to make something new.
As expected, Jeremy was standing over a furnace, watching it intensely. "Waiting for something?"
He startled, jolting as he turned around to look Gavin's way. "Hell, dude," he laughed.
In response, Gavin dropped the bag with a loud thud. "The mesh works," he explained happily, as Jeremy opened up the bag and began to look through it all, pulling out new items and placing them down before eagerly taking the next thing.
"I guess it works faster too," he observed, and Gavin nodded in agreement. "Ooh, I can do so much more shit now!"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah! Thanks, Gav."
He laughed. "You built the damn thing. I just threw the sand through it."
Jeremy just waved one hand dismissively, his face still practically buried in the bag of new items. Gavin would be more inclined to argue, but he let it go this time. They were both in too much of a good mood to ruin it. So, he stood there and listened as the man looked over each item, and speculated about what it could be used for. Jeremy was smart, he realized. Well, he'd known it before, but Gavin had never seen him so deeply engrossed in his work before.
Each item he considered carefully, and occasionally jotted down notes about for later. It was incredibly ... amazing to watch. Jeremy put so much thought into everything that he did, and he knew that the man had definitely been lying when he said he was just throwing things together and getting lucky.
Eventually though, they were interrupted as Jack and Geoff both came over looking for more materials to build the farms up. Gavin had to lead them back downstairs and show them the new mesh that they could use now, and give them all the dirt they needed.
By the time he was free to go back upstairs, Jeremy was deeply focused on building something, so they weren't exactly able to hold a proper conversation. Once he was working something, he wasn't easily distracted.
So, sighing, he went to find Michael. He hadn't spent much time with his Boi since he and Jeremy had fallen off the world, and Gavin wanted to make sure that his friend wasn't still mad at them. He had a temper on the best of days, and that was fine enough to handle. But when he got so mad that he went silent, that was difficult.
He found Michael digging through a chest, fuming. Somehow, that wasn't surprising. "Where the fuck is it? I know I put the damn thing in here."
"Uh, what are you looking for?"
Not looking up, the man huffed angrily. "A sword. I thought I put it in a chest somewhere but now I can't fucking find it."
"Are you sure someone didn't take it?" Gavin certainly hadn't. He'd had the same one for a long time now, since he barely ever used it. It had been the first time in a long time when he went down after Jeremy, and it didn't break then, so with him it stayed. Still, it was always possible that the others had needed one. They all tended to just grab whatever they could find in the chests that they needed.
Sighing, he stood up straight and turned around. "I'll just make another one," he frowned. "So what's up, Gavin?"
"Jeremy made a new mesh for the sieves today," he said with a smile.
"Damn, how's it doing?"
"It's really good! I think he's still looking through all the new stuff I got from it."
Michael chuckled. "Sounds like you really made his day."
"You think so?" he replied, laughing along.
"Yeah. So, when are you two gonna bang, then?" Michael suddenly asked, one eyebrow raised and a teasing grin warping his features.
Gavin, in response, sputtered and nearly choked on his own spit. "M'sorry, what?"
Michael, the bastard, just laughed. "What do you mean 'what'? We all have to watch you two dance around one another like some awkward version of gay chicken. At least get to the good part and finally fuck."
"But - But -" he scrambled for something to say, but was left in silence. He liked Jeremy, sure, but he hadn't thought that he was being obvious about it or anything. Certainly not enough to be cornered by Michael. Besides, they were always so busy that they practically never saw one another. How would anyone realize that Gavin had a few small feelings for the man?
"Come on, Gavin. You're not that hard to read."
A momentary spark of fear hit him then. "So then Jeremy knows too?" he whined.
"You're admitting it?" he chuckled. "No, I don't think he does."
"Thank god," Gavin muttered, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. He didn't think he'd be able to handle it if he found out that Jeremy actually did know something about his feelings. "Wait, no! I'm not admitting anything!" he cried, suddenly realizing what he'd said.
"I think you just did," Michael teased
Frustrated, he collapsed down onto the chest that Michael had just been looking through. "Look, you can't tell him, okay?" Gavin was in the middle of coming to terms with it himself. He didn't need anything forced on him just because his friends decided to pay matchmaker.
"Why can't you just do it? It's not my job to," Michael said with a scoff, and he breathed a sigh of relief at the words.
Gavin was silent for a moment, thinking. Honestly, he really wasn't brave enough to do it. Jeremy was so ... wonderful at everything, and he couldn't compare to that. Besides, what if the man turned him down? He didn't want that embarrassment. Unfortunately, his words didn't reflect his thoughts well. "Because it's Jeremy!"
Michael, in response, just raised an eyebrow doubtfully. "That makes sense."
"But Michael! You know what I mean."
He laughed. "I actually don't. I'm not the one with a crush. And you're being pretty damn loud for someone who wants to keep a secret."
Gavin huffed, crossing his arms petulantly. "I don't know how to say anything to him about that."
"Uh, just say it? 'Hey, I really like you, now please fuck me?'"
"No!"
"I don't think he'd turn you down, Gavvy," the man hummed thoughtfully. He sounded very sincere all of a sudden, for all of the joking he'd done so far. "I meant it when I said you were both playing the gay chicken game."
"He's not into me, Michael."
Sighing, he shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said. "I've got to get to making that sword now, but you should think about it."
He waved a silent goodbye to his friend as he walked away. He would consider it, but there was really nothing to think about. Jeremy hadn't done anything to prove that he was romantically - or sexually - interested in Gavin. It was a frustrating situation.
But, they were perfectly fine as friends. The two of them got along and fit in well with the entire group. There was no reason for Gavin to go and ruin that. He could easily ignore the whole thing and just let it blow over.
With newfound confidence, he strolled to the area that Geoff had designated as the 'animal farm'. There was nothing there yet, but they were hopeful still that they'd have something soon. He spent the rest of the evening chatting with the older man, since everyone else was too busy to relax until late into the night.
That night, Gavin went to bed, and for some reason he couldn't stop thinking about his conversation with Michael. He'd resolved to do nothing about his feelings, but that didn't mean that they easily left him alone.
After tossing around for what felt like hours, he eventually prayed that he'd just pass out.
It must have worked, because not too long afterwards, he felt himself drifting off to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~
The last few nights, his dreams had felt faraway, barely tangible, as if he was simply floating in between sleep and consciousness. This time though, it felt far too real.
Gavin wasn't one for lucid dreaming, but as soon as he opened his eyes, he knew that wherever he was, it wasn't real. He was still on his bed, but what seemed like fog had covered the entire area, and anytime he focused on something, it seemed a bit fuzzy at the edges.
It was just strange enough to be a little frightening. It wasn't the type of dream that he normally experienced, and he was honestly lost in it. It just all felt ... off.
Despite what was probably his better judgement, Gavin found himself standing, and he walked slowly as he looked around. Everything had the same out-of-focus aura, but it all seemed to be the same as it was whenever he was awake. Nothing was different, or out of place. Well, except for one thing.
Nobody else was here. Walking around, he didn't see any of his friends anywhere; not in their beds, or even working on something late at night. It was eerie. Perhaps it was just due to being in a dream, but it was still odd that he'd be completely alone and lucid.
He could feel his heart rate spike, and was honestly just trying to keep himself calm by remembering that nothing was wrong. He'd wake up later and laugh that he was ever worried about a dumb dream.
"I'm sorry it's not exactly right. It's been quite a long time since I've done something like this."
Gavin screamed. Fast enough that he probably could have broken his neck, he spun around, finding himself face to face with an unrecognizable man. He wasn't really any taller than Gavin himself, but he boasted an imposing figure nonetheless. His light hair looked like it had been permanently blown back by a strong wind, and his eyes were the brightest blue that Gavin had ever seen. They were unnatural - practically glowing - and beautiful.
Damn, he really was dreaming. He stared, shocked still and unblinking, jut taking in the sight before him. Whoever this person was, he carried himself with a dignity and strength that wasn't only visible in stance. It could be felt too.
"Uh," he said, attempting to force the words out of his throat once he belatedly realized that what had scared him was this man speaking - saying something to him. "What?" he finally asked, taking a step back. he felt too close to this stranger, and it was suffocating. The weight of his presence was almost too much to bare, and Gavin was suddenly forced to come to terms with the fact that he might have not dreamt this up at all. Was that even possible?
"I'm sorry," the man repeated with a patient look on his face that said he'd likely expected to have to say the same thing twice. Well, that was just his own damn fault. With one hand, he gestured to the area around them. "This place, it looks the same, but it's not really complete. It's been a long time since I've needed to make a copy."
Gavin felt like he wasn't quite understanding the words that were being spoken to him. They were English, sure, but they held no meaning in this situation. "A copy?"
The man raised an eyebrow, and damn if that wasn't the best eyebrow he'd ever seen. "Yes? You live here, don't you? But it's obviously not the same."
Gavin, still lost, glanced around like there should be something off, but then it came to him. Of course it was all wrong! He'd noticed it all already! "Oh! You mean the ... fuzziness? And everyone's missing too."
The stranger smiled, obviously pleased that he'd figured it out. "That's it," he confirmed. "I'd wanted it to looked better but, well, I guess I'm out of practice." He chuckled then and sounded, somehow, bashful.
"Who are you?" Gavin asked, tired of being confused by this man who claimed to have created this place.
"Who am I to you?"
He blinked, shocked by the rebuttal, and the strangeness of it. "Uhm. Nobody? I don't know you."
He frowned then, crossing his arms over his chest. Gavin noticed his clothes then. They looked old. Not in the sense that they were tattered and worn, though. No, they were in impeccably perfect condition. Just ... vintage. Almost regal, in a sense. All black, red, and gold flowing fabric.
"Think about it," the man urged. "Who do you know that could make an entire world?"
It seemed almost like he was being teased, but Gavin obeyed anyway. Luckily, it didn't take long to find an answer. Who could make a world? Only one person - if they could be even called that - could accomplish such an act. "Are you," he paused, unsure for a moment. He still doubted that this was completely safe. "Are you the god that made this place and brought us here?"
"The very same," the god nodded.
"The one I've prayed to?"
"That's me."
"You bastard!"
It was a bit satisfying to see an expression of shock cross a god's face. Weren't they supposed to know everything?
"Excuse me?" he asked, eyes wide.
"You left us with nothing! Just a block of dirt barely wide for all of us to stand on! Aren't gods supposed to be helpful?" Perhaps this was a dangerous course of action. If this guy was a god, then he could obviously do a multitude of things to end Gavin's life without even lifting a finger. But, well, he'd done his praying, and his faith had technically been validated. If the guy's gonna come and appear in a mere mortal's dream, he might as well answer some damn questions.
"Gavin," he began, in a tone that seemed far too gentle of a response to yelling. "I've done many thing for you. I'm sure you can think of a few, though there are some I'm sure you never realized." He moved - with perfect grace, and Gavin was transfixed - over to a chest, and seated himself on top of it, crossing his legs at the ankles, and leaving his arms crossed over his chest. Gavin, for his part, stayed standing in the same spot, not willing to move.
"Gods' powers are more limited that you likely realize. We're not perfect beings. Powerful, yes. I can create worlds at will, as I've shown you twice. But I can only do so much. Gods rely on mortals a lot."
"What could you need from us?" Gavin asked, doubtful.
"Belief," the man replied, shrugging. "I need your faith. Your trust. Prayers, thanks, wishes," he listed, counting them off one by one on his fingers.
Gavin blinked, surprised. He was unsure exactly what to make of that. What benefit did belief and prayers give to a god? They were immortal and powerful already.
"Think of it as an exchange, if that helps you understand it."
"What?" Had the god read his mind?
If he had, he did't comment, or give any answer regarding it. "I can make things for myself, like an empty world. That's easy. But to do things for you, that's harder. I need something in exchange, or it doesn't work right. It's honestly just a real hassle." He stopped then, humming like he was thinking over something. "Jeremy and the others like to tell you that you're blessed. You get luckier, heal faster. Do you know why?"
Gavin didn't have to think long about that one. "Because I pray."
"Yes, you pray. Not just when you need something, or when your life's gone wrong. Everyday I hear your thoughts and feelings. I'm able to help you more than anyone else because, even when you weren't sure if there was someone there listening, you still spoke to me." The god smiled gently. "Thank you for that."
He blinked, surprised. "What're you thanking me for?"
The god smiled, and it almost looked sad. "I'm not the most well worshiped god, you know. It's nice to have someone speak directly to me once in a while."
"Why're you not worshiped?" Gavin prodded, curious now, and unable to stop himself from seeking any information that the strange man - god - would willingly give.
He chuckled. "There's not that many of you here, you know. Other gods, in other worlds of their creation, have many more mortals who pray to them regularly. Besides being so few, most of you aren't that devout."
"Wouldn't that be easy to fix? Just preform a miracle or something," he said, waving one hand around, as if it would add to the importance of his point.
"Exchange, Gavin," the god said, and he pouted upon remembering the purpose that the prayers had in the first place. "Besides, I've already preformed more than one miracle."
He looked off then, over Gavin's shoulder, and sighed. "I believe you're due to wake up, now."
"Wait, no!" he exclaimed, not quite ready to end this conversation yet. It all seemed to be going by too fast. "Isn't this a dream? Can't those last longer than real life? It can't be time to wake up yet."
"This isn't technically a dream. It's a form of reality."
Well, that was a borderline cryptic answer, and Gavin pursed his lips in response. "But I wasn't done talking."
To his surprise, the god suddenly laughed. It was loud, like he hadn't expected it any more than Gavin. It was also one of the most wonderful things the mortal had ever heard. Once again, he was struck by a sense of awe. By just talking, one couldn't really get a sense of the difference between a human and a god, but in moments like this, it was clear how superior one was to the other. He could only stare in wonderment.
"If you'd like to talk to me more, I'll visit you again," he said with a sly smile. "I obviously need to work on my world building a little anyway." As he spoke, he gestured with one hand around himself. The fuzziness of everything was still very prevalent. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse. "It's time to wake up now, Gavin."
"Wait!," he said, again, and the god raised an eyebrow. he wasn't clamoring for an excuse to have extra time or anything, really. "You didn't tell me your name or anything!"
"Ryan," he replied, and it was strange. So simple. So human, but Gavin grinned anyway.
"Okay, Ryan," he said, repeating the name and testing how it felt on his tongue. It was good, a lovely name.
The god - Ryan - in an absurdly human gesture, waved goodbye, and Gavin couldn't help but to grin and wave back.
~~~~~~~~~~
He opened his eyes, which he hadn't even realized he'd closed, and found himself staring at the bright morning sky, like he hadn't just been up speaking with a god.
Another form of reality, he reminded himself. He was inclined to believe Ryan, even though he'd said it hadn't been a dream and Gavin still somehow felt like he'd slept. Some questions were just too great for mortal understanding, it seemed.
He practically had to drag his own body out of bed in order to stop himself from simply laying there. If he waited long enough and eventually fell asleep, he wondered, would Ryan be there again? It was an odd feeling; to be suddenly so obsessed with someone he'd just met. Gavin would be the first to admit that he was rather quick to get along with certain people, if they clicked together right, personality-wise. Maybe Ryan was that kind of person?
Then again, he was a god, and Gavin wasn't sure if that could really apply to him. Was it possible to click with a god?
It was frustrating. He'd been getting answers, having a conversation, only to be suddenly pulled away and snapped back to the true reality that he knew. Now he was just left with the memory of speaking to something much greater to himself, and nobody to share that knowledge. Ryan had been right; Gavin really was the only devout one among them.
Although, Jeremy was ... more likely to believe than the rest. Ryan had said he'd preformed miracles already, and Gavin could think of a very recent one. They'd joked about it at the time, but of course it was just their luck that it would turn out to be true.
A god had saved them.
And, if what that god said about exchange was true, then maybe there was more than one believer among them.
With that thought in mind, he was finally eager to get moving for the day. And for once, he was thankful for the fact that they all tended to work so far apart from one another. Normally, he didn't like that Jeremy was so far away from him, but Gavin would be going to the man, and he was quite glad for the bit of privacy. He didn't even know what the others would say if they heard him talking about meeting their god. Thinking about it almost made him laugh, in a very 'it's not funny' sort of way.
He found Jeremy hunched over a book, his eyes trained on the words written upon the pages. "Jeremy?" he probed, and the man looked up suddenly, having obviously been caught by surprise.
"Hey, Gav!" he said, smiling widely. "What's up?"
"What are you reading?" he asked, momentarily curiosity taking precedence in his mind. He couldn't remember ever seeing that book before.
"Oh, this?" he asked, tapping a finger on the open page. "I don't know yet. It's like ... a guide to build something. I'm not sure what it is yet, though."
"Is it safe?"
"Should be. Doesn't look too dangerous so far," he shrugged, finally flipping the cover over and closing the book. The front was remarkably plain and unrevealing.
"Where'd you get that from, anyway?"
"Michael gave it to me. Apparently, one of the monsters dropped it."
Gavin snorted in laughter. "Was it reading?"
Jeremy laughed along with him, shaking his head. "What would it need to read?" he finally hummed, once their giggles had subsided. "What're you doing over here, though?"
His curiosity sated for the moment, Gavin recalled why he'd walked over in the first place. (Not like he'd forgotten, of course. Not really. He just got momentarily distracted.) "You won't ... tell anyone, right?" he questioned, suddenly very serious. He trusted Jeremy as much as one person could trust another, but it was still better to check and be safe. Gavin still wasn't positive that he was sane at this point.
Caught off guard, Jeremy's eyes widened. "Uh, no? No, of course not. Why?"
"Because it's crazy, Jer!" he murmured in frustration.
"Gav, what happened?"
Sighing, he took a moment to collect his thoughts, inhaled deeply, and began the story of last night's dream. He attempted to be as detailed as possible, but some of it seemed to be a bit lost in his memory. He'd been scared at first, and then just absolutely shocked. The minute details of the situation hadn't seemed important at the time, but now that he couldn't recall them properly, Gavin began to doubt the reliability of his memories.
He didn't share any of those thoughts with Jeremy, though. Just the dream, or 'altered reality' he'd experienced.
After he'd spilled all that had happened before he'd woken up, the man remained oddly silent. After seconds ticked on into minutes, Gavin began to feel a bit worried. "Jeremy?"
That, at least, seemed to shock him out of the silent trance he'd appeared to be under. "What the fuck." he whispered, voice monotone and flat. "Are you serious? This isn't some joke, is it?"
Gavin didn't know how to reassure him that it had all been real. "You know it isn't."
"You met a god, and his name was Ryan. And this god came to thank you for praying and allowing him to preform miracles?"
"I - I guess? I mean, that's what he told me, but I don't know if that's why he came," Gavin replied with a frown, crossing his arms over his chest. "He was cryptic."
"No offense, but that sounds absolutely insane."
Gavin's face fell, and his chest felt like it was breaking apart. He wouldn't have been surprised if his heart stopped beating for a second or two as well. "What?" he whispered. Had he been wrong to think that Jeremy could understand, and maybe even believe him?
"But," the man sighed. "I trust you. It'd be a little weird if I didn't, since it's a miracle that I'm even alive right now."
Instantly, Gavin's eyes drifted down to Jeremy's chest. The sight of those barely healed wounds had been frightening and heart wrenching, and he still didn't like to think about them. About Jeremy dying.
"You do?" he asked, nervously lifting his eyes back up to meet the other man's.
"Well, yeah," he shrugged. "I don't have a reason not to."
"Besides the fact that it sounds absolutely insane?" Gavin asked, chucking weakly.
"Besides that," he confirmed. "I believe you. I doubt that everyone else will, though."
"I wasn't going to tell them," he said, feeling so overwhelmingly relieved that Jeremy wasn't dismissing everything he'd said and calling him crazy. The weight on his chest disappeared, and finally he felt as though he could breath easy. "But thank you for trusting me."
Jeremy grinned. "No problem, Gav. Y'know I've always trusted you, it'd be stupid to stop now."
Gavin raised his eyebrows, surprised. Always? He was doubtful of that. Why would Jeremy trust him, even way back before they were actually good friends?
The man seemed to sense his disbelief, because he laughed, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "It's true," he defended.
"Are you sure?"
"What? Of course I'm fucking sure!"
The intensity of the declaration made him smile. "Alright, alright," he conceded, putting up both hands in 'surrender'.
"So, what are you going to do about it?"
"What do you mean?"
Jeremy shrugged. "I mean, you talked to God. Are you gonna keep praying?"
"Of course. I prayed when I didn't even know he was real. Why would I stop now?"
"But wasn't it weird? Talking to a god?"
Gavin frowned slightly. It had been weird. The feeling of coming face to face with something much more powerful than yourself still rested in his gut, like a lingering anxiety that something would go wrong. But, at the same time, Ryan's personality didn't seem to fit his image. Of course, that could have all been a lie, but Gavin was willing to take the risk. He still had questions, after all.
"Yeah, it was, but it's also cool, innit? Not everyone gets a chance to talk to a god."
Jeremy laughed. "It was cool," he mimicked, obviously amused.
"You don't think so?"
Jeremy was silent for a moment "... kinda," he grumbled, and Gavin smiled like he'd won.
"See? I bet you want to talk to him too now."
"Listen, if a god made a new reality or whatever the fuck, just so they could speak to me, I wouldn't tell 'em to leave."
"Do you think he'll come back?"
"Seriously? Why wouldn't he? He said that he would."
Gavin nodded slowly. Jeremy was brilliant at reassurance. "You're right."
The conversation slowly dissolved after that. They had nothing left but speculation anymore, since Gavin had shared everything he knew. He was thankful though, that Jeremy had been so willing to listen and believe in him. Even as someone who prayed, it still seemed crazy. He couldn't understand why either. Ryan had said that he didn't get worshiped much, but did that mean he needed to pay a personal visit to the single person that spoke to him? It was too crazy.
He settled for letting things be, though. What had happened had happened, and Gavin didn't feel as though it would be wise to question the whims of a god.
Eventually, he left Jeremy to whatever instructions were written in the book Michael had found, and went back downstairs to his usual jobs. Absentmindedly, he speculated praying to Ryan for a better set of responsibilities. If the god was in the mood to give to the people that believed in him, then maybe he'd be willing to send Gavin a spark of inspiration?
He wistfully ruminated on the thought, but eventually let it go. It felt wrong, like he would somehow be taking advantage of the god, just because Gavin knew he really existed now.
Instead, he settled on something better, but similarly distracting. He though about his conversation with Jeremy. He was so, so glad that the man was eager to trust him. Honestly though, it didn't help to diminish his growing feelings that he was desperately trying to ignore. No matter what Michael said, he still didn't have the courage to say anything. They were friends.
Just because Jeremy was willing to believe he'd had a conversation with a god didn't mean that he liked Gavin. He refused to put his faith into something so unlikely.
The rest of the day passed by slowly as Gavin impatiently waited for night to fall. He wanted to fall asleep again and see if Ryan would show up like the night before.
He could tell the others thought he was acting strange - he tended to talk with them much longer - but he excused himself as early as possible, feigning a headache, and retired to bed.
To his surprise - or, maybe not - he opened his eyes to a fuzzy sky. It seemed as though Ryan hadn't fixed the quality of this copy world he'd made. Gavin didn't care though. He wasn't here to see the scenery.
This time, when he heard a voice, he didn't jump. Well, he did, but it was more from surprise than actual fear this time.
Ryan appeared before him, showing off as he seemed to materialized from the air itself. "Hello, Gavin," he greeted in a pleasant, even tone.
"Hey, Ryan."
"I have a gift for you," the god said with no preamble as he settled down, seating himself upon a furnace this time. Gavin couldn't help himself from wondering if he'd even notice whether the fire was on or not. It wasn't, of course, but could fire even harm a god if it had been?
"What is it?" he asked, unable to stop himself from being excited.
With a flourish, Ryan reached one hand behind his back before pulling forward a giant book. "I hear your wishes and desires, you know," he hummed.
Carefully, Gavin stepped forward and took the book - using both hands of course because it was fucking heavy. He stared at the cover, but it was blank, much like Jeremy's had been. "What is it?" he repeated.
"A new job," Ryan answered simply. "Open it."
Placing it down on the nearest surface, which happened to be a chest, Gavin slowly opened to the first page. "Solar?" he read, questioningly looking up to the god.
"You wanted something to do that was a step up from dirt. I think you'll enjoy this."
Gavin looked back down and began to read, eagerly absorbing all the information from the book. Flipping through it, the meaning of the words on the latter pages was lost to him, but he gathered a simple understanding of the first few. "We can gather energy from sunlight?"
"With these panels you can," Ryan agreed with a nod. "This book will tell you everything you need to know about solar energy and how to make the panels you'll require to gather it."
"I - thank you," he stammered, unsure of what he could say that would properly convey how grateful he felt.
Ryan smiled wide, his eyes practically shining. "You're welcome, of course. I think you still have questions for me, though."
"How could I not," Gavin murmured. He was speaking with a god; immortal and all-knowing. He couldn't see himself ever running out of questions.
"Then ask," he chuckled.
"Have you been the god of other worlds?" Really, they hadn't been here all that long, and were, in fact, just beginning to figure out how things worked. If Ryan was an immortal, then surely he had to be doing something before them.
"Many, years ago," he replied. "Perhaps you'll be pleased to know that you five are my only responsibility, currently."
Gavin smiled. "I kinda am, actually. What happened to them?"
"The other worlds?" At Gavin's nod, he continued; "They all fell eventually. Centuries, millenniums, eons pass, but one day, all worlds come to an end."
That wasn't really an answer than he liked, and the sudden darkness that overtook Ryan's tone was frightening, but he understood, too. Gavin wouldn't deny that all things came to an end, eventually. Life was just like that, no matter how long one tried to prolong it. "Did you get worshiped more in those worlds?"
Ryan hummed. "Something like that, yes."
Cryptic. Again. Were all gods like that, or was it just this one?
Other gods ... "Do other gods go and talk to people who pray to them?"
He raised an eyebrow, grinning like Gavin had said something funny. "Ah, not that often. As I said, most have more subjects who are devout. That'd be a big responsibility, don't you think? I don't believe that they're adverse, though. Just ... content with the worlds they've got."
"Are you not?"
"Oh, no, I am. You all have a long way to go, though."
"Like with these?" Gavin asked, pointing to the book that still laid open on the chest.
"Those and a lot more," he nodded. "Jeremy is ... on the track of something as well." Ryan's face took on a distorted expression as he spoke, almost as if he was uncomfortable, and Gavin frowned in confusion.
"Is it something ... bad?"
"Not necessarily. I just didn't think he'd figure it out so soon."
Gavin thought then, his mind drifting back to the book he'd seen Jeremy so focused on. He realized now that it looked remarkably similar to the one Ryan had given him now. "Did you make that book? Like this one?"
"Yes. I expected that it would find its way to Jeremy."
"Expected, or did you just make it find him?"
Ryan grinned. "You'll never know," he replied with a wink.
"What?" he cried. "I though you said I could ask all my questions!"
"You can. I'm answering them, aren't I?" Ryan said, a sinister grin on his face that Gavin most certainly did not like. Nope. Not at all.
"Not properly. Are you being mysterious on purpose?"
"I'm immortal. Can't I have some fun once in a while?"
Gavin sighed, but conceded. He didn't have any good retorts to that. "What about the the other guys. Are they on the track of something?"
Ryan nodded. "In general, yes. Some of them have a longer way to go than others."
He raised his eyebrows in curiosity. "Really? Who is it?"
"Gavin, I can't spoil the whole future for you."
He pouted, crossing his arms lightly. "Can't you give me a hint?" he tried to bribe.
Ryan, in a very ungodly manner, rolled his eyes. "One of them will develop a strong love for chickens," he said, a proud smile on his face, like he just knew Gavin would be caught off guard by the statement.
He probably had known, the bastard. Then again though, it was very unexpected. "A love for ... chickens," Gavin repeated. "That doesn't sound like a good future at all."
"Eh, it's not so bad," Ryan chuckled.
"I know you're not talking about Jeremy or Michael." After all, Jeremy had whatever was in that mysterious book, and Gavin would be damned if Michael developed any sort of strong attachment to a chicken.
Ryan just grinned again. "You'll find out eventually."
"So, do you know everything about the future?"
"No. Not everything. Small details, if I have no direct influence on them, can change easily. That's why Jeremy has the book now, rather than later. I planned on it being found, just not the specifics of how."
"Wouldn't that effect the things you do plan on?"
"It doesn't matter much how you get there. It's the end result that matters, and that always remains the same."
"If you want it to."
"If I want it to," he agreed with a nod.
"That's brilliant."
Ryan seemed pleased. "You think so?"
"Of course I do! You can do whatever you want!"
"Well, I am a god."
"Bloody lucky is what you are."
He frowned slightly, but didn't voice any disagreement. Gavin got the idea though, from his changed demeanor, that Ryan didn't really agree with that statement. He couldn't think of why. Gods seemed like they had the most convenient lifestyle; far superior to a mortal's.
"Do you have any other questions? I believe it's time I left for the evening."
Gavin blinked in surprise. "What? Already?"
"You do need to properly rest, Gavin."
"Will you come back tomorrow night?"
Ryan chewed his bottom lip for a moment. "If you'd like me to."
"I do!"
"You just have more questions about the future, don't you?" the god asked in a knowing tone as he stood from his seat upon the furnace.
"No!" he retorted, falling quiet for a few seconds. "Some of them are about the past, too."
Ryan laughed. "Go to sleep."
"Wait, what about this book?" he asked, closing and picking up the one he'd been given. If this world wasn't the same as the one he normally resided in, would he still have it whenever he woke up?
"It'll be with you."
"Thank you again, Ryan."
"You're welcome. Good night, Gavin," he said with a smile, waving goodbye, just like he'd done the night before. In one blink of an eye he disappeared from sight, and Gavin felt himself quickly growing tired as the clarity of the world gradually worsened. As his surroundings started to fade, he slowly fell asleep.
-Chapter 2-
Over the next few weeks, Gavin devoted himself to following the instructions laid out in the book Ryan had provided him. Upon waking up that morning, he'd found it on the floor next to his bed, and had immediately gone to work on the first steps of building a solar panel. It was ... difficult. At first, he didn't have all the materials, and he'd needed to rely on Jeremy to help him figure out where to find them.
They all seemed to make great strides toward larger projects. Jack's farm grew large enough to support them practically endlessly, and Michael had managed to take a bunch of torches down below them, effectively lighting it up enough that if anyone needed to go down, they wouldn't be ambushed.
He even figured out who the chicken lover was. unsurprisingly, it had been Geoff, who figured out he could keep and breed them to discover new types, which laid different items. Gavin himself was skeptical about how these chickens came to be, but he let it go. The older man seemed content to stay on his farm at all times, and nobody ever bothered to interrupt him.
Jeremy was the only mystery. Gavin continuously saw the progress on whatever he was making from that book Ryan had sent his way, but he never seemed willing to say what it actually was. Eventually, he gave up on asking.
It hurt a little bit, since he always shared the progress on his solar panels, but he let it go, assuming the man would tell him whenever it was finished. It seemed to be much more complicated than the panels, at least.
And Ryan was something new that he was growing used to as they days went on. The god seemed to be a constant presence in his life now, appearing every night to speak with him.
Mostly, their conversations consisted of Gavin asking questions, and Ryan picking and choosing which ones he wanted to answer. Specifics about the future were a no-go, as were most things about the god's past. He refused to answer anything that he claimed 'gave away too much information'. Anything else though, was completely welcome. Even stupid rhetorical things that had no point.
And Gavin enjoyed it. As weird as it was, he considered the god to be a close friend. Not only did he pray, he also found himself talking to Ryan at random times during the day. Whenever he was alone, fiddling with the solar panels or trying to build something else new, he would talk in his head, the thoughts directed at the god rather than himself. He knew Ryan was listening, after all.
Unfortunately though, that would sometimes backfire for the both of them. Gavin sometimes forgot in the middle of doing something that he'd actually been speaking to Ryan, and would interrupt his own thoughts with some random song or idea, which the god would then claim got stuck in his head. Out of annoyance, he would refuse to answer any fun questions that night. Even Gavin's pouting did nothing to change his mind.
All things considered though, Gavin was happy.
Happy except for one thing. "It's been weeks, Gav! Say something already."
"Michael, I'm not going to and you damn well know it," he insisted as he walked with the man across the downstairs area of their rapidly growing world.
The man huffed, a frown clear as day on his face. "Why not? Jeremy would die for you, dude! Ask him the fuck out."
"No!"
"Why?" he repeated.
"I still don't think he's interested. I mean, he won't even tell me what he's been building all this time." Sure, Gavin attempted to stay positive about it, telling himself that Jeremy would reveal everything when he was ready, but it was still discouraging. Maybe that was just selfish, though.
"So what? You still want to fuck him. Just do it."
"You're the worst, Michael. Shut it."
Michael, in response, ignored the protests entirely and just laughed. "Why would I do that?"
"Ugh," Gavin scoffed, but he was smiling. As annoying as it was, he knew that Michael meant well and wanted him to just go after what he wanted. Honestly though, he was perfectly happy with what he had. Jeremy was a friend, and that was all he needed.
He absolutely didn't need anything more.
Not at all.
~~~~~~~~~~
"I'm tired of hearing you think about Jeremy, Gavin. Just tell him you like him, already."
"Not you too," Gavin moaned, collapsing down onto the bed. He stared up at the wall, which had grown much clearer over time as Ryan perfected the little world he'd made for them to talk in.
"You can't keep it a secret forever," the god huffed from the wall that he'd sat upon. Long ago he'd claimed to have grown tired of just appearing behind Gavin like some sort of ghost, so now he took to showing up wherever he pleased.
"You keep secrets," he countered, tilting his head back to glance up at Ryan.
"I'm entitled to my secrets."
"That sounds hypocritical."
"This is a secret you have no reason for keeping besides the fact that you're nervous."
"Shut the hell up, Ryan!" he shouted, receiving only giggles in return. He felt the bed dip down, and knew that the god had sat down next to him.
"I'm quite serious, Gavin. I would like nothing more than to see you happy." the god's tone had changed dramatically between the two statements, instantly drawing Gavin's complete attention.
He lifted himself back up into a sitting position where they could properly face one another. "Would he really not reject me?"
Ryan ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "He wouldn't."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Seriously?"
"Gavin," he said, voice harsh and commanding, eyes glowing. Gavin's mouth snapped shut. "You're not proposing to him, you know."
"I know," he muttered, dropping his gaze to his hands, where he twisted the bed covers nervously. He wanted to, of course he did. It was just difficult to bring himself up to the task. Ignoring it was just far easier, even if it hurt worse over time.
He supposed though, that it might be best to listen to a god. Ryan had never steered him wrong before. His assurance was actually a large confidence boost, and Gavin fell asleep that night with a new determination.
In the morning, he walked over to where Jeremy was working on his mystery project with no doubts that the man would be there. As expected, he was right.
"Hey, Gav," Jeremy called with a wave when he noticed Gavin's approach. "What do you think?" he asked, gesturing to whatever he was building.
Admittedly, it was impressive, even if Gavin didn't know it's purpose. Although, it did have a bit of a foreboding aura. He had to wonder if it really wasn't dangerous. "Looks good, J. Still don't know what it is, though."
"You will soon. I'm almost done with this part of it."
"Finally?"
"Yup!" he declared with a proud grin, his hands resting on his hips. "Just a few more blocks and then it's ready."
"Well, congratulations, then," he hummed.
"Thanks. What did you come here for, though? Need something else for a solar panel?"
"Not this time. I actually wanted to ask you something." Ah, there were the nerves again. Despite the fact that he'd chosen to believe in Ryan's words, he still hadn't completely erased all of the worries. The churning in his gut almost made him take back the words, but he forced himself to keep going, even if it was only to stop the nagging.
Jeremy waited patiently, a curious look on his face as Gavin struggled through the first few words. "I uh ... would you maybe ... I wanted to say .. Dammit!" he complained, frustrated at himself. "Look, I don't know a good way to say this, alright? I'm really nervous right now and I like you a lot, Jeremy."
His face was beet red as he waited for a response. Jeremy was silent for a long time, and Gavin was pretty sure that he'd shocked him.
"Uh, like me like ... like like me?"
Gavin nodded, and the man's eyes widened, his mouth falling open slightly.
"Fuck I- damn." he laughed, scratching his chin. "Now you've made me nervous." With a deep breath, he looked Gavin directly in the eyes, his gaze heavy. "I like like you too," he said, a small smile growing at the corners of his mouth.
"What? You do?"
"Yes, you idiot! Of course I do!"
Gavin couldn't stop himself, even if he'd wanted to, from squealing and throwing himself at Jeremy. The shorter man easily held up his weight though, even if he did have to stumble back from the unexpectedness of it. "You're heavy, Gav," he muttered.
"You can hold me up easy," he replied, feeling as though they had to whisper because of their new closeness to one another.
Jeremy seemed to feel the same, because his reply was at the same volume. "Not for long," he hummed, slowly dropping his arms, letting Gavin slide down his legs.
"No, Jeremy, no!" he giggled, dropping his feet at the last moment to stop himself from landing on his ass. "You dropped me," he whined, although he still sounded too happy for that play to work.
"Yup," the man replied, sounding like he didn't regret a thing.
As he gazed at the other, Gavin couldn't stop the incredibly relieved feeling that washed through him. "I'm glad I finally told you," he admitted quietly.
"How long have you waited?" Jeremy asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Weeks. Probably longer, I dunno."
"Fucking weeks?" he asked, astounded. "Shit dude, you could have told me ages ago!"
"I didn't know how you'd respond," he grumbled, and Jeremy walked closer, wrapping his arms around Gavin's waist and tugging until their chests were pressed together. Gavin draped his arms across the man's shoulders, and enjoyed the fact that they could be this close now, or whenever they wanted! It was amazing.
"The same as I did now," he replied.
"You're lying!"
"Not at all," he grinned, his head tilted up to see Gavin's face as they spoke. "Did anyone else know?"
"About me liking you? Michael did, and he said Jack and Geoff did too, but they never said anything to me. Oh, and Ryan too."
"Ryan did?" Jeremy questioned. "Well, I guess that's not surprising, since he'd a god and all."
Gavin chuckled. "He's the one who finally got me to ask you."
"Oh? I'll have to thank him, then." He lifted himself up further, and Gavin smiled, wondering if he ever did actually speak with the god. Neither of them had mentioned it, but it could just be another secret. He was in too good of a mood to ponder too deeply, though.
"What d'ya want, J?" he asked with a laugh.
"Get down here, loser," the man complained, and Gavin easily followed the request, tilting his head and pressing his lips gently against Jeremy's. They kissed for a few long moments before slowly pulling away.
"Someone's gonna come over here and see us," Gavin murmured.
"So?"
Well, he didn't really have a so. It was just a comment. He wasn't exactly sure if he wanted the others to find out they were together by walking in on them kissing, but he wouldn't be angry about it, either. "Nothing. Just saying."
"Hmm." Jeremy released his grip on him then, taking a step back. "Geoff needs some wood for his chicken pens and I promised I'd get it for him before noon."
"Well, I'll go bother Michael until then, I guess."
Jeremy laughed. "Hey, if you come back here later tonight, I'll probably be done with this thing," he said, gesturing to the large structure behind him.
"Oh? Will you finally tell me what it is?"
"You've earned the right now, I think."
"Oh, do I finally have security clearance, Mr. Dooley?"
"You do, Mr. Free. Access granted," he teased. "Seriously though, once it's done I can actually show you what it does. As long as it works ..."
"Nice confidence."
"Well, I haven't had a way to test it yet."
"I'll be sure to be back here later, then," Gavin promised. He was a bit excited now, if he was being honest. Not only had he finally gotten to tell Jeremy how he felt, he was finally going to discover the purpose of the mysterious structure the man had been working on for the past weeks. Ryan had admitted to writing the book, but hadn't given any hints on what it was. He hadn't even ever commented on the man's building progress.
He bid Jeremy goodbye then. They didn't kiss, but Gavin felt as though there was a silent promise of more later. He looked forward to it as he walked back downstairs.
On the way, he ran into Michael. "What're you doing down here?" he asked.
"Looking for you," he replied, looking Gavin up and down. "Jack wanted to know if he could have a solar panel to use."
"Why couldn't Jack ask?"
"Fuck if I know. He's too lazy to leave whatever he's doing, I guess. Him and Geoff are just the same, honestly." Gavin could sense the annoyance, and honestly, he understood it. As they developed new things and created more space, they grew further and further apart.
"Sure, I'll make him a solar panel. Does he want a strong one or what?"
"Does it matter? Just make him whatever."
"Michael, are you in a bad mood today?"
"What? No," he insisted.
"If you say so."
"Well, I had to wait for your late ass. Where the hell were you?"
"Hmm, talking to Jeremy," he replied, looking into a chest for the materials he would need to craft a solar panel. Unfortunately, he didn't have any spare ones he could just give away. Fortunately, the build would be something to distract him until he went to see the man again later.
"Oh? How did that go?"
"It ended with making out, so pretty good." It hadn't been anywhere near intense enough to qualify as making out but he wanted to see Michael's reaction. It was worth it too.
Uh, What the fuck? Are you serious?" he shouted. "I'm gonna kick your ass! You could have been gross and making out for weeks now, but you were too chickenshit to listen to me!"
Gavin laughed loudly, clenching his sides as he watched the expressions shift across Michael's face. At first he seemed legitimately angry, but eventually he began to smile, and even laughed too.
"Damn, Gavin," he muttered, obviously annoyed by how stupid he'd been, despite laughing. "I'm happy for you, though. Don't have sex where I can hear."
A furious blush overtook Gavin's face and he frowned. "Shut up," he grumbled, officially done with this part of the conversation. He didn't want to talk about his love life with Michael anymore. Thankfully, they easily moved on to another topic as he began the construction process of Jack's solar panel.
The day passed easily as they kept one another company, and it wasn't long before he finished a nice, second level panel. It wasn't the strongest, but he had no idea what it was needed for, and higher levels were still difficult or even impossible to make. If Jack needed more power, Gavin could just make more panels.
"I'll take this to him, Gav," Michael offered.
"Really? Thanks, Boi," he replied, handing over the panel to the other man, who held it carefully with both hands.
"No problem. Go hang out with your gay boyfriend," he teased.
Gavin just stuck out his tongue. "I will, thanks," he laughed. He watched as Michael left with the solar panel before throwing all the unused materials in the chest they'd come from. It was a bit of a rushed job but, well, he was excited, okay?
Once everything had - only mildly haphazardly - been put away, he made his way over to where Jeremy worked. He found the man laying a block down on his project, which looked a lot more complete than when he'd seen it just a few hours ago.
"Oh, Gav! You're here," he called, looking up from what he was doing.
"Do I get to hear about this, now? Are you finished?"
"Yup, you got here just in time," Jeremy replied, standing up and walking over to stand before Gavin. He reached out and locked their hands together before pulling him forward. "Come look."
They stood together on the red stone as Gavin took in the sight of ... whatever it was. This was the closest he'd ever been to it. "What is it?" he asked.
Jeremy was silent for a few seconds. "You won't freak out, will you?"
Gavin furrowed his eyebrows together, confused. "Freak out? Why? What is it, Lil J?"
"It just sounds weird it all," he chuckled nervously, using his free hand to run at the back of his neck. "It's called a blood altar."
Gavin blinked, opened his mouth to respond, and then shut it again. He didn't exactly know what to say to that. He couldn't figure out if he was mad, scared, or intrigued. He settled on all three and eventually stammered out a "w-what?"
"A blood altar. The book Michael gave me, it was all about blood magic, but to do any of that, you need to have one, so I built it."
"Ryan wrote that book," was the first thing he could think to respond with.
"I know," Jeremy nodded.
"Wait, you do?"
"Mmhm," he hummed.
"You talked to him?"
Jeremy smiled sheepishly. "Once or twice. He doesn't visit me every night like you."
Gavin was astounded, and once again, he couldn't figure out if he was mad or not. "He never told me."
"I know," Jeremy repeated, rubbing his thumb across Gavin's as he spoke. Somehow, that managed to relax him a bit.
"Well, how does it work, then?" he asked with a sigh.
"The altar?"
"Yeah. What do you do?"
Jeremy took a few steps away and walked to the chest he had nearby. he rummaged through it for a few seconds before pulling something out. "First, you need one of these."
As Gavin focused on the object, he realized that it was, in fact, a knife. Or, more accurately, a dagger.
"It's called a sacrificial dagger," Jeremy explained, walking closer so that Gavin could see it properly.
"What, a sword or something won't work?" he asked, frowning at the blade.
"Apparently not," he shrugged. "The book doesn't specify why. Ask Ryan."
"So then what?"
"Then you bleed. See that dish?" he asked, pointing to a shallow pot at the center of the altar. "The blood goes in there, and then you can use it for magic and stuff."
"You have to ... cut yourself. And bleed into the bowl," he repeated, staring at it suspiciously.
"Basically."
"That's ... damn. That's bloody frightening, J."
He nodded. "I know. I wasn't worried about it when I was building it, but its a lot scarier now," he said, chuckling nervously.
"You're not gonna actually do it, are you?"
"Yeah, I am," he said, after only a moment's hesitation.
"Wait, seriously?"
"Well I spent all this time building this damn thing, I'm at least going to see if it works."
"But Jeremy! You can't just injure yourself like that," he protested, worrying furiously at his bottom lip.
"The first spell doesn't need a lot of blood. It'll be fine," he said, stepping up to stand before the bowl.
Gavin only watched in worry, forced silent by the fact that he knew Jeremy wouldn't listen now that he'd set his mind to this. He spent all this time constructing the altar, knowing what it was. He'd obviously been planning on doing this for a long time.
Jeremy took a deep breath and extending his arm out over the bowl, holding the dagger tightly in his other hand. "Ready?" he asked, looking over at Gavin.
"What are you asking me?" he replied, swallowing nervously.
He shrugged once, before closing his eyes and dragging the blade's edge over his skin from his elbow to his wrist. Gavin flinched at the sight as he watched the blood fall onto the altar. The stones glowed faintly at the first drop; a horrifying dull red that illuminated Jeremy's face and arms. It glinted off the shining metal of the knife, and Gavin tore his gaze away, unable to look any more as the blood continued to flow.
It hadn't been a life threatening cut, but Jeremy had still gone deep across his entire arm. After a few seconds, he chanced another peek, and he saw the man still standing there, his hand curled tightly into a fist and a pained scowl on his faced as he watched the blood drip, drip, drip down and collect into the bowl. It filled up quickly, and then Jeremy was pulling his arm back. He dropped the blade and it clattered on the ground as he pressed his own arm into his chest in an effort to stop the blood flow.
Gavin rushed to his side and pulled off his shirt without a second thought. He tugged at Jeremy's arm, urging the man to allow him a look. He complied, and Gavin inspected the wound. It was deep and still bleeding freely, but hopefully Ryan would heal it. Without waiting for any miracles though, he wrapped his shirt tightly around Jeremy's arm, covering the entire cut. "There," he whispered, still cradling the arm in his two hands.
"Thank you," the man murmured, slowly pulling back until it was just his hand in Gavin's grasp.
"Why would you do that?"
"Wanted to test the altar," he murmured, obviously feeling some sort of effect from the blood loss. The shirt on his arm hadn't been stained red yet, at least. Hopefully the bleeding was slowing down.
"Idiot Lil J," he replied. "Let me bleed in the bowl next time instead."
"You're not gonna cut yourself," Jeremy protested in disbelief.
"I will," he insisted, lowering his head so it rested atop the other man's. It was comforting, standing close together. Gavin didn't like seeing Jeremy get hurt. He didn't know if he could take seeing something like that again. He'd do it himself in a heartbeat before watching. "I think you need to go to bed."
Jeremy, as if on cue, yawned. "I think you're right," he laughed.
Gavin followed closely behind him as he walked to the bed, not trusting the man to not fall over on the way there.
"Goodnight, Gav," he finally murmured, once he was nestled tightly under the sheets.
"Night, J," he replied, turning to leave.
"Wait," the man interrupted, annoyance in his tone. Gavin turned to see him with one hand up, beckoning him closer. Gavin walked forward, and then gasped in surprise when Jeremy grabbed his waistband and pulled harshly. The sudden tug jerked him forward and he lost his balance, falling down over Jeremy. He managed to catch himself from collapsing on top of the man completely by sticking his hands out on either side of his head.
Jeremy laughed, and sat up just enough to connect their lips. He kissed much more fiercely than he had the first time, but seemed to move away twice as quickly. Gavin frowned and followed him forward, but Jeremy released his grip on his waistband and relaxed against the pillow again. "Goodnight, Gavin," he repeated, a teasing grin on his face.
Gavin huffed. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, pushing himself up to standing again.
He was tired himself as he left, and so he chose to retire for the night as well. Besides, he had some things he wanted to say to Ryan.
~~~~~~~~~~
As soon as he fell asleep and was positive that he wasn't in a real dream tonight, Gavin sat up in the bed and looked around for Ryan. The god was out of sight, but he knew that he was there. "A blood altar?" he immediately asked.
Thankfully, Gavin didn't have to speak to nothingness for long. Ryan appeared, standing directly in front of him for once. "Yes," he replied, in lieu of a proper greeting.
"Why'd you give him a guide to ... blood sacrifices?"
"Because he would have found it eventually anyway. Just because I don't give you a book on something doesn't mean it doesn't exist."
"You wrote that book!"
"Yes," he repeated, agreeing once more.
"Why?"
"Because I'm a god. People sacrificed to me once, a long time ago."
Gavin blinked, taken aback. "What?" This was something he'd never heard before. He'd barely managed to get any details from Ryan about his own past before.
The god nodded. "Once upon a time, the way the people worshiped was through sacrifices. That book embodies the technique, and a way to get the rewards without a god actually there to give them."
"So it's ... updated? The new way to sacrifice?"
Ryan frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side. "Sure? It removes the god from the equation, so I guess."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to see if it would work." Sometimes Ryan had such frightening answers to questions that Gavin wondered if he really was as kind as he seemed.
"Did you at least heal him?" he asked after a few moments of silence.
"Jeremy? Of course I did," he said with a huff, as if that was so obvious Gavin shouldn't have even needed to ask. "Speaking of him though, congratulations."
"Oh, uh, thanks," he muttered, adverting his gaze to the floor. "You didn't tell me that you talked to him, though?"
"He asked me not to."
"He did?"
"Yes. We mostly talked about the altar, and he didn't want anyone to know about that yet."
"Bastard," Gavin grumbled, frowning.
"You're not really going to use the dagger, are you?"
"Why don't either of you think that I will?" he countered, finally looking back up at the god. Surprisingly, he looked worried.
"You don't seem like the type who would willingly sacrifice."
"If it means I don't have to watch Jeremy do it, then I will."
Ryan smiled, but it looked a bit off. "Aw, that's sweet," he murmured, taking a few steps forward. To Gavin's surprise, he grabbed both of his hands, pulling him up to a standing position where his face was alarmingly close to Ryan's. The god didn't let go, and he was forced to meet his piercing blue eyes. His gaze was unflinching, and the fierceness of it sent a shiver down his spine. "Be careful. The dagger is dangerous. Don't let it take too much from you."
Gavin, out of shock more than compliance, nodded. Only then did Ryan finally let go and take two steps back. "Be careful," he repeated. "Don't get yourself killed."
"I won't," he promised.
Slowly, Ryan nodded. "Okay. Remember that."
Gavin wasn't sure that he could every forget.
~~~~~~~~~~
Over the next few weeks, Gavin's days were split into three major parts; he built solar panels and worked on powering all the machinery and devices that required energy. He spent time with his boyfriend. And, he poured all the blood he could spare into the blood alter.
He tried to heed Ryan's warning as best as possible, and never gave too much to the dagger, but it still felt draining. He was sluggish and slow the majority of the time. He devoted less time to building, slept more, and saw Ryan less. The last time he did, the god had claimed it was because he didn't want their time together to take away from the real sleep that Gavin 'obviously needed'.
Gavin didn't push it though, because he could tell that it was only through Ryan's work that he was alive. Despite trying to moderate how much he gave each time, he still wasn't getting his blood back fast enough.
"Gav, Gav, you gotta stop," Jeremy said one night as he watched his boyfriend's blood drip into the bowl. "I'm sacrificing too, you don't need to give so much." Despite his attempts, he couldn't stop Jeremy from using the blade as well.
"You need it though."
"Not this quickly! I can wait. You don't need to push yourself like this. Ryan's a god and he can barely keep up." Jeremy pulled him away from the bowl, crushing Gavin tightly against his chest. "Please. I know I need the blood, but you're going to die."
"Ryan can keep me alive."
"Ryan won't forever. You know that he doesn't like this either."
Gavin did. Of course he did. Ryan had been unhappy with the idea the first time he'd heard it. Gavin hadn't forgotten the worry that had plagued the god's face upon hearing he was going to use the dagger.
"Why do you keep doing this?" Jeremy questioned, pressing his face into Gavin's chest.
"Because I know you want it," Gavin answered easily. He knew better than anyone that Jeremy wanted to see how far he could take the magic, and how much he could get out of the altar. The only unfortunate bit was just how much blood it required.
"I'd rather have you alive," Jeremy said weakly. "Ryan would too. He comes and talks to me now, since he doesn't want to interrupt your sleep," he admitted.
"Tell him to visit me once in a while. I miss him," Gavin chuckled.
"Actually stay awake for once and he will."
"Fine, fine," he grumbled with a lopsided smile.
"You should spend more time on your solar panels than on this alter."
Gavin pulled away so that Jeremy could see him nod. "Okay," he conceded. "You're right."
"'Course I am," he murmured, gingerly inspecting Gavin's arm. Ryan was working like only a god could on healing it, but faded scars still littered the surface. Sighing, he took some of the spare cloth that he kept with him and wrapped the injury with it. "Now go sleep. You look exhausted."
Gavin nodded in agreement, and leaned down to gently press his lips to Jeremy's. "I'll see you in the morning, J."
They bid one another good night, and Gavin fell asleep quickly once he made to his bed. For the first time in days, he opened his eyes to a blue sky in another reality. This time though, he didn't have to wait for Ryan to appear. The god was there, sitting on the edge of his bed.
"Are you tired?" he asked.
Gavin hummed. "A little. Not too bad, though."
"Do you want me to let you sleep?"
"No!" he exclaimed. They barely saw each other now, and Gavin knew it was mostly his fault, but he'd be damned if he let Ryan leave again.
The god sighed in a way that sounded like disappointment, but didn't move. It was silent for a long time before he finally spoke up again. "Do you want me to tell you about how I became a god?"
Gavin blinked, unsure if he'd even heard right. Became a god? Was he actually dreaming?
"Gods aren't ... always gods?"
Ryan shook his head. "Some of them aren't. A long, long time ago - I can't even remember when now, it's been so long - I was mortal too."
"Wow," Gavin whispered, completely shocked.
"I wasn't a god, but I was a king. Perhaps not the best, but I tried my best. Or, well, maybe not. I was having more fun fooling around than being a proper king, but it was fun at the time."
"Why were you messing around?"
"I was young and mad with power. It's been so long now I don't remember very well. It was a different lifetime. As a god I can remember things easily, but the memory of my life as a mortal has faded over time."
"Mad?" Gavin asked, attempting to keep Ryan on track with his story. He was so curious he wanted to hear it without distractions.
"Mad, insane, lost. They named me for it, actually. The Mad King, with his cracked and crooked crown," he said, chucking at the words like they were somehow humorous. Gavin, honestly, was just shocked. The Ryan he knew wasn't crazy. He was kind, cautious, and goofy. Sometimes he came across as intimidating, yes, but certainly not mad.
"How'd you go from a king to a god?"
"Sacrifices. I bought my way from another god. I was so drunk on power that I only desired more. What's more powerful than a god? I wrote that book on sacrifices because I developed most of them for my own use. I only changed it recently to remove the necessity of a god that received them."
"For Jeremy to use?"
He nodded. "I don't want sacrifices anymore. I'm much happier with your prayers."
Gavin was attempting to absorb the information, so he sat there and nodded dumbly as he thought it over for a moment. "So you can become a god?"
"If you give something in return, yes."
"Does it have to be sacrifices, or would prayers work, like with the miracles you do?" he asked curiously.
"Anything works, you just have to give enough. Becoming a god has a steep price."
"How much did you give?" he questioned, even though he was a bit afraid to know the answer, considering that he knew what Ryan had given.
As telling as it was, the god was silent for a moment before answering. "Too much," he sighed.
"Was it ... worth it?"
Gavin watched as, slowly, he shook his head. "For a long time, no. I'm pretty glad to have met you, though. And Jeremy. But being a god? It isn't worth that much. Watching you and your friends grow and expand this world is the most fun I've had in centuries."
Gently, Gavin smiled. "As far as gods go, you're not that bad yourself, Ry."
"You don't know any other gods, Gavin," he chided, a small smile gracing his features.
"But I'm right, aren't I?"
"Well I'm not going to say no."
He laughed then, pleased that he'd seemed to have managed to improve Ryan's mood again.
"You should sleep Gavin, now that I've told you your bedtime story."
"I'm not a child, Ryan," he pouted.
"You act like one," the god countered.
Gavin didn't bother replying to that, since Ryan would probably have some comeback for whatever he said anyway. Instead, he let the god leave, and slowly drifted off to sleep as the altered world around him disappeared.
He had an idea now though, all thanks to Ryan.
Instead of donating blood continuously to Jeremy's alter, he focused back on his solar panels. As they developed new technology and found more materials, he was able to progress further and further into the book. It felt nice to be working on them again, and he was relieved to see Jeremy abandon the blood magic for a while as well. they both still bled for the alter occasionally, but nowhere near as much as before. Instead, Gavin devoted himself to energy, and Jeremy assisted Michael with the botany projects he'd recently become invested in.
Things felt like they were back to normal again. Without the constant blood loss draining him so much, Ryan started to visit him more frequently. He never talked about before he was a god anymore, but Gavin didn't need to hear it. In fact, he didn't want to. The Ryan he knew wasn't mad.
One night, when he opened his eyes to the world Ryan had made, he was greeted with a familiar face that didn't belong to their god.
"Jeremy!" he exclaimed, jumping out of the bed in excitement. "Am I dreaming?"
Ryan spoke from atop the nether portal, a wide grin on his face. "Of course not. I visit both of you, why bother making two trips?"
And it was like this that they lived. The night was a retreat where he could spend time with both Jeremy and Ryan, his two favorite people. (Not that he'd ever admit that to Michael, of course.) He couldn't imagine spending his future with anyone else.
It was months later before his plan finally came to fruition. "How much did you give, Ryan?" he asked one day when the three of them were together that night.
Ryan, to all his godly credit, knew exactly what he meant. "Are you planning on making an exchange, Gavin?"
"How much to make me a god?"
Jeremy chucked. "You know what, I was going to ask him the same thing."
Summary: It was a normal day at the Achievement Hunter office, really. Camera’s are out, a bets' being made, and Geoff is waiting for Gavin to get a hard on from the fertility stuff he dropped in his red bull. Wait, what? Ryan/Gavin/Jeremy
Prompt: Person A is drugged with an aphrodisiac, making them incredibly needy; luckily, they have help to give them what they need.
Warnings: PWP, NC-17.
WordCount: 4,135
Jeremy had a great lunch. It was his cheat day for his diet so he’d splurged quite happily, and he walked back into Stage Five with a good amount of swagger in his step. His mood quickly plummeted, however, as soon as he made it back into the Achievement Hunter office. Geoff was standing beside Gavin’s desk bouncing from leg to leg in excitement with a look in his eyes that meant nothing good for any of them. He had a little clear plastic baggy in his hand, waving it over top of Gavin’s red bull, while Gavin tried his best to ignore him.
They ignored Jeremy as he made his way over to his desk to set his stuff down.
“I’ll give you two hundred bucks if you try it,” he heard Geoff say and looked up to watch.
Gavin shook his head. “No way.”
“Two hundred and fifty!”
“Nooo,” he repeated.
“I’ll do it,” Jeremy chimed in before he had even thought about it. Luckily, Geoff didn’t even turn to look at him.
“You don’t even know what it is!” Micheal yelled, while at the same time Geoff screamed, “I wanna see Gavin do it.”
Gavin rolled his eyes, clicking away with his mouse.
“Just do it, Gavers. You know he’s not going to quit until you do,” Michael told him, still staring intently at his own screen.
“Micoo,” Gavin whined.
“Five hundred!” Geoff screamed. “Five hundred goddamn dollars, come on Gavy.”
“Ohhhh,” Michael and Jeremy harmonized, as the tips of Gavin’s ears turned red.
“What is it?” Ryan finally asked, pulling his headphones off and standing up from his desk. Jeremy nodded, glad he didn't have to be the one to ask.
“Boner pill,” Michael chirped, happily.
“Um,” Ryan started.
“It’s some sort of fertility stuff that one of Griffon’s friends gave her,” Michael explained, watching Geoff wave the baggy in front of Gavin in increasingly exaggerated motions. “Supposed to make you horny as fuck.”
“Ew,” Jeremy muttered, while Ryan just graced them all with a flat, disgusted stare.
“A thousand dollars!” Geoff finally screamed, and Gavin stilled.
“Come on, Gavers,” Micheal jumped in. “A thousand well-earned dollars, content, and it probably doesn’t even work.” Gavin turned to glare at him, but it didn’t diminish Geoff’s huge crooked smile.
“Do it you little bitch or the next coffee you drink will literally have my shit in it,” Geoff said.
“Fine!” Gavin screamed, pushing his chair back from the desk and standing up. “God dammit, Geoffrey!”
Michael and Jeremy leapt up from their desks, crowding around Gavin - Michael already pulling out his phone to record - as Geoff cheerfully poured the powder into Gavin’s red bull.
“I want no part of this,” Ryan muttered, sitting back in his chair and shoving his headphones back over his head.
Gavin eyed the red bull, his throat already rebelling against what was about to happen, bringing it up to his mouth for multiple false starts, before pulling it away in disgust.
“Just do it,” Geoff groaned.
“It’s gonna taste just awful.”
“JUST DRINK IT, DAMMIT!” Michael finally screamed, losing his patience.
Gavin winced before he finally started chugging the Red Bull.
“Chugg, chugg, chugg,” Jeremy chanted, while Geoff cheered.
The three of them stared at Gavin intently after he slammed the empty can back on the table. He smacked his lips a few times, his face contemplative.
“Well?” Geoff nearly screamed, his voice breaking halfway through the word.
Gavin smiled, his eyes wide and bright. “Didn’t even taste it!” he replied cheerfully. The three of them groaned in sync - Geoff screaming, ‘Dammit’ loud enough to make Ryan jump at his desk-, as Gavin held out his hand.
“My money, Geoffrey!”
Geoff groaned. “Fine, I’ll hit up the ATM after work!”
Gavin pouted. "You better!" He sat back down at his desk and resumed editing the let’s play he had been halfway through when Geoff had started pestering him while ignoring the other guys who were still watching him intently.
Jeremy followed his lead, sitting down and starting his computer up, but Michael stayed, still filming, while Geoff hovered around him in anticipation.
“Fuck!” Geoff screamed, marching away and out of the room.
Michael sighed, lowering his phone. “I thought we’d get some sweet content out of that,” he muttered, before following Geoff out the door, with a muttered declaration that he needed a beer.
“Bunch of perverts,” Jeremy snickered.
“You were over there too,” Ryan chimed in from the other side of the room.
Jeremy shrugged. “Well, you know,” but Ryan could see the blush dusting the tops of his cheeks. They quickly returned to their separate projects, the event nearly forgotten.
A few minutes later, Gavin began squirming in his seat. Jeremy’s eyes quickly glanced over to take in the flush that covered Gavin’s cheeks and ran across the tips of his jawline and down his neck. He squirmed once more, his lip bit in feigned concentration, before bringing one leg up to cross across the other. His fingers stumbled across the keyboard in frazzled bursts, and his clicks against his mouse where frustratingly loud.
Gavin turned his head, his eyes widening in panic as he caught Jeremy staring at him.
Jeremy stared at him, wide-eyed, as his brain slowly started to catch up to what he was seeing.
Gavin whimpered, realizing he was caught, and flailed into a chaotic mess as he tried to stand up and escape the room at the same time. “Bathroom!” he nearly shouted, stumbling out the room, ignoring the curious glances from the other two employees.
“Do you think-” Jeremy started to say but stopped when Ryan stood up abruptly and quickly followed after Gavin.
For a moment he thought about going and getting Michael and Geoff. They would love to tease the brit, but Jeremy had seen the look on Gavin's face, and more importantly, the one on Ryan’s.
It was the worst kept secret in RoosterTeeth that Ryan and Gavin had been fooling around for some time. Nothing official, of course, and they both denied it stringently, but it was hard to ignore the ways their ruffled looks when they would both return to the office at the same time, or the eyewitness accounts of Gavin arriving or leaving in the passenger seat of Ryan’s car. Jeremy, of course, had had it confirmed for himself when he walked into the streaming room looking for Mica and found the Brit sprawled across Ryan’s lap.
They had both stared up at Jeremy with wide eyes that he was sure had matched his own. Before he could even start to apologize and back out, however, Ryan had given a smirk with his kiss swollen lips, and said, “In or out?”
He was out the door and halfway down the hall before he heard Gavin’s squawk of protest from the door he’d left slightly open. He kept marching, however, straight out of Stage Five and to his car, planning on going on an early lunch, because if he met another soul there was no way he could stop from making a fool of himself.
It wasn’t until the next day when he had to contend with dual looks of disappointment from the couple that he started to think that maybe Ryan’s teasing had been more than just that.
Jeremy sat still in his seat, alone in the office, weighing his options. Gavin didn't look like he was getting ready to throw up, which is the only thing Jeremy thought would come of this mess. In fact, it looked like the powder was, well — that it was working. He tapped his fingers on his desk, stared at a screen that he didn't see before letting out a deep breath.
In a flurry of movement, he stood up and took off towards the nearest bathroom.
Luckily, he met no one on the way out the side door as he was practically jogging, and he didn’t want to have to explain why. He quickly punched his code in, pushing himself inside before he could second-guess it, and shut the door behind him.
He wasn’t prepared for what he saw. Ryan had Gavin pinned against the long wall of the handicapped stall, his back to Jeremy, but his head was tilted enough to give him a great view of Gavin’s face. Gavin’s cheeks were flushed, his pupil’s blown out, and he was gripping the back of Ryan’s shirt so tightly Jeremy the tips of his fingers were bright red. The brit’s eyes met Jeremy’s suddenly, and he let out a low whine.
Ryan’s head spun around, but when he saw it was Jeremy, he smirked. One single eyebrow was raised, as he repeated the same phrase from a week ago, “In or out?”
Jeremy took a deep breath and reached behind him to lock the door.
Gavin let out another whine, but it was cut off halfway through when Ryan swallowed it up when he pulled the smaller man into a kiss.
Jeremy leaned against the door, his face burning red as he watched the two of them make out against the stall wall. When Gavin’s legs flew up to wrap around Ryan’s waist, and Ryan’s hands landed on his ass he wondered if maybe the two of them had forgotten he was here. If he was honest with himself, though, he knew he'd be happy just to watch. Gavin was thrusting against Ryan wildly, moaning and whining whenever Ryan pulled back to catch his breath, before muffling them once more with his lips.
Finally, Ryan was able to pull himself far enough away from the absolute tempting picture that was Gavin at that moment to look Jeremy’s way. “Sorry about that, Jeremy,” he chuckled, though he didn’t sound sorry at all.
He motioned his head towards Gavin, and Jeremy felt his feet moving him closer to the couple.
Gavin’s eyes met his again. “Lil’ J,” he whined, and his name said in that voice, through Gavin’s spit covered lips went straight to his groin. “Need you,” he whined again, reaching his hand out towards Jeremy.
Chuckling, Ryan thrust up against Gavin, making him moan. “That stuff really did a number on you didn’t it, Gav? I’ve never seen you so worked up.” He turned towards Jeremy, keeping their eyes locked while he thrust against Gavin once more. “I think I’ll need some help settling him down. What’d you say, Jeremy?” He thrust up once more, and Gavin slammed the back of his head against the stall door, closing his eyes and letting out a long moan. “You wanna help me out?”
Jeremy swallowed. “Oh god, yes.”
The grin Ryan gave him had Jeremy wanting to adjust himself. Before he had a chance, however, the older man was stepping away from Gavin, letting his legs fall to the floor as he collapsed against the wall, and wrapping an arm around Jeremy’s waist. He thought for a second that Ryan was going to kiss him, but instead, he nearly stumbled as he was moved in front of Gavin.
Jeremy sucked in a breath, looking down at the sight in front of him. There was no other way to describe it: Gavin looked wrecked. His Achievement Hunter shirt was halfway up his chest showing off his lithe stomach and the hairy patch of skin that led happily down into his unbuttoned and half unzipped jeans that were bulging out around Gavin’s obvious arousal.
For a moment, Jeremy had the slightly hysterical thought of wondering what his past self, the one who spent his nights bingeing on Achievement Hunter videos and writing raps about people who he could only dream of meeting, would think if he could show him what he was looking at right now. He didn’t have long to think about it, however, before Ryan’s hand wrapped around his head, and Gavin’s fingers grasped the front of his shirt, both of them pushing and pulling him forward, closing the gap. There was a still moment, where he could feel Gavin’s breath against his lips and see up close how large his blacked out pupils were, and he froze.
“Lil J,” Gavin whispered, with a whine at the edge of his voice, and that was enough for Jeremy.
He cupped the side of Gavin’s face and slammed their lips together. They kissed and kissed, Jeremy swiping his tongue around inside Gavin’s mouth, tasting him and devouring him. He didn’t think he’d ever been this turned on - this far gone - in his life, but he didn’t care.
Gavin dug his fingers through Jeremy’s hair, holding him tightly, before he thrust his hips up, rubbing their erections together. Jeremy gasped, and shuddered, holding still as Gavin did it again and again. It was too much.
Groaning, Jeremy lifted Gavin’s legs up and wrapped the long, thin legs around his stocky frame and started pounding him against the wall. The zipper of his jeans rubbed roughly against his cock, but he didn’t slow down, greedily swallowing every moan Gavin let free.
“Shh,” whispered Ryan in his ear, and he could hear the grin he was sporting as he wrapped himself around Jeremy. “Slow down there, guys, before you both end up ending this far too soon.”
At that, Jeremy finally stilled his hips, biting his lip at the whine Gavin let out.
“Oh, Rye, you don’t know how good he feels. He’s so strong,” Gavin moaned, sliding his hands down from Jeremy’s shoulders to his biceps, squeezing them. “He’s just holding me here, it’s so hot.”
Jeremy hid his face into Gavin’s neck, panting as he tried to hold back a moan of his own.
“I know, Gav,” Ryan chuckled, his hot breath still on the back of Jeremy’s neck, “but I know you want him inside of you right?”
Jeremy didn’t fight back the groan this time, nipping lightly on Gavin’s throat, before thrusting against him once more when the brit whined out a low, “Yes, please.” He was still struggling with the need to pull away from Gavin and the need to keep doing exactly what he was doing, when Ryan finally moved his head away to face him, and straight into a kiss.
This time, it was his mouth being devoured. Ryan’s tongue was so large and quick inside his mouth, and it had his whole body on fire. When Ryan finally pulled back, Jeremy had to slowly let Gavin down since his knees were suddenly weak.
“I was feeling left out,” Ryan teased, caressing Jeremy’s cheek with his thumb.
“Please,” Gavin whined and they both whipped their heads around to look at him. “I need you in me, Lil’ J, please.”
Things moved quickly after that. Jeremy quickly slid his jeans low enough on his thighs to free himself, groaning as he squeezed himself at the base, knowing he was harder than he could ever remember being in his life. Ryan fumbled around in his back pockets pulling out two separate foil packets and handing them over, before pulling Gavin into another kiss while slowly dragging him to the floor.
It was a testament to how far gone Gavin was that he didn’t complain about how unhygienic it was, Jeremy mused while he worked the condom on and ripped open the lube packet with his teeth. He finally went down on his knees, leaning behind Gavin, who was currently chest to chest with Ryan. The older man had one wrapped around Gavin’s waist, the brits tight jeans pulled down to his knees, while the other was already sliding slowly in and out of Gavin’s hole.
Jeremy shivered. Between the sight in front of him, and the wicked smirk Ryan was giving him, not to mention the nearly pained sounds Gavin was letting out, he was starting to feel a bit light headed.
“Have you done this before?” Ryan asked him suddenly, his voice husky, and Jeremy wondered exactly what he meant. Had sex with a coworker? Had a threesome? Had a threesome on a bathroom floor with his coworker and his boyfriend while one of them was under the influence of an unknown substance?
He saw Ryan nod towards the lube that was coating Jeremy’s fingers, and then towards where he was slowly sliding a dry finger in and out of his boyfriend and he finally understood.
“Y-yeah,” he said, nodding frantically.
“Good. That’s good, Jeremy. Now, you’ve got to be slow with him, no matter how much he rushes you,” Ryan instructed, his voice calm and his knowing eyes steady on Jeremy as though he didn’t have his boyfriend whining and begging into the hollow of his throat.
Jeremy nodded, and slowly slid a slicked up finger in beside Ryan’s. He was shaking a bit, he couldn’t help it, but his nerves were settled a bit by the feeling of Gavin’s tightness, and the friction of Ryan’s thick digit rubbing beside him.
“Good job,” Ryan said, and Jeremy finally looked up to meet his eyes. The older blonde was smiling at him, flushed and his lips parted. He was obviously affected as much as Jeremy was, not just by the sounds Gavin was making, but it also seemed the brit was rubbing his hand frantically over the tent in Ryan’s jeans.
It was that image that finally silenced the last of Jeremy’s nerves. Yes, these two men had been unattainable heroes to him for a long time, but they were still just human. And for some reason they wanted him just as much as he wanted them.
He slid another finger inside Gavin. Wriggling his fingers around, he wrapped them around Ryan’s lone finger, coating it in lube and helping stretch the tight hole even further enough to thrust all three fingers inside over and over again. He never broke Ryan’s gaze, however, and he got to enjoy the double treat of hearing Gavin’s howl and seeing Ryan bite his lip to hold back making any sounds of his own.
Jeremy, truly, had to be the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.
“That should do it, I think,” Ryan told him, his voice still somehow steady and calm even though he looked like a wreck.
“Please, please, Lil’ J, put it in me,” Gavin whined, and Jeremy had already removed his fingers was slicking himself up.
“Oh, yeah, you want me to put it in you, Gav?” Jeremy asked, his voice rough and thick. As soon as the words left his lips he was embarrassed by them but when Gavin moaned and thrust his ass against him his self-consciousness evaporated.
While Jeremy lined himself up against Gavin’s entrance, he watched as Ryan’s hands moved down to grasp each of Gavin’s cheeks. He kneaded them once, twice, then spread them slowly, giving Jeremy a perfect view.
“Holy shit.”
Ryan chuckled, and Jeremy stared up at him in awe. He had the sudden urge to spill his soul to him. He wanted to tell him how the first time he’d ever thought he was gay was when he jerked off listening to Ryan’s voice. That once he’d accepted his sexuality he’d had fantasies like this about one or the both of them. That this was the happiest moment of his life.
Instead, he reached his hand forward, grasping the back of Ryan’s head and pulling him into a kiss over Gavin’s shoulder, while the brit whined in between them. Jeremy finally pulled back, taking a moment to admire the heat in Ryan’s eyes and the flush on his cheeks, before he moved his hands down to grip Gavin’s hips in one hand and slowly pushed the head of his cock inside the tight heat.
Gavin’s loud moans had Jeremy wondering for a second about the thickness of the bathroom walls, but then he was fully inside Gavin and he couldn’t think about anything else at all. There could be a line forming outside around the block and at the moment he couldn't care less.
“God damn,” Jeremy panted, pulling out slightly before thrusting in again. “God dammit, Gav, you feel so good.”
“He does, doesn't he?” Ryan mused, from where he was sucking a hickey into Gavin’s throat, though his eyes were watching Jeremy. “He’s wanted you for forever, y’know?” he said, grinning when Gavin whined out his name. “He talks about it all the time. I’ve been trying to get him to let me ask you, but-”
Ryan was cut off when Gavin’s hand slipped down into his jeans and started frantically stroking him.
“I want you in me too, Rye,” Gavin groaned. “I wanna suck it. Please.”
“Fuck,” Ryan groaned, and Jeremy concurred.
Jeremy slowed his thrusts down, as he watched Ryan carefully scoot backward on his knees, only sliding his jeans down low enough to free his erection from its confines. He had barely stroked himself once before Gavin was bending down and taking him in his mouth.
“Fuck,” Jeremy groaned and blushed when Ryan’s eyes snapped up to look at him. Jeremy began thrusting again, but they were still slow, shallow thrusts, mindful of Gavin’s infamous gag reflex. He didn’t mind, however, as the sight alone of Gavin eagerly sucking on the head of Ryan’s cock, while his nimble fingers stroked up and down the rest was going to push him over the edge soon enough. He reached one of his hands down to stroke Gavin in time with his thrusts and was rewarded with the sound of him letting out a muffled moan.
Ryan’s hand was gripped in Gavin’s hair, bobbing his head back and forth on just the head of his cock. He looked so intent, whispering words of encouragement and instructions in that deep, husky voice of his. Just watching them, Jeremy started to understand a little about what their dynamic must be like when they’re alone.
The image of Gavin blindfolded on his knees in front of Ryan, while the older man stroked his cheek lovingly flashed before Jeremy’s eyes and he was gone.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he groaned.
Ryan immediately pulled Gavin off him, giving Jeremy the chance to thrust into Gavin without holding back. The smaller man’s un-muffled pleas and groans only grew louder as Jeremy followed through and spilled inside him.
Jeremy only took a second to catch his breath before he lifted Gavin up, holding him tightly against him as he resumed stroking him roughly and thrusting into him. Ryan sat back on his haunches, watching them both with heat filled eyes stroking himself in time to match Jeremy’s hand.
“You look so gorgeous like that, Gav,” Ryan groaned, meeting Jeremy’s eyes. “You both do.”
That seemed to be too much for Gavin and he let out a cry and spilled himself on the bathroom floor, and with only a grunt, Ryan followed after him.
While they both caught their breaths, Jeremy nipped and licked at Gavin’s neck, trying to soak up every moment he had left to be pressed up against the other man.
“Oh, Jeremy,” Gavin sighed, rolling his head to the side to give Jeremy better access. “That was so lovely. You were so lovely.”
Jeremy blushed, and reached up to kiss just under Gavin’s ear, and was treated to another heartfelt sigh.
“It was pretty great,” Ryan said, and when Jeremy lifted his eyes to meet his he saw that his lips were quirked into a smile. “I bet the next time will be even better.”
His heart leaped into Jeremy’s throat, and when Gavin turned his head to look at him, whispering, “There will be a next time, won’t there, Lil’ J?” Jeremy breathed in so suddenly he choked on it. He coughed it out before nodding dumbly, and Gavin beamed at him.
“Good,” Ryan said and went about tucking himself back into his jeans and checking himself over for stains. “Hopefully, Gavin won’t have to fake getting affected by an aphrodisiac again just to convince you.”
Jeremy froze, staring down at the sheepish look on Gavin’s face, before shaking his head, and laughing. Of course.
Gavin smiled at him before he turned his attention back to Ryan. “Really, Rye? Aphrodisiac?”
“That’s the right word,” Ryan huffed, reaching forward to help straighten Gavin out, as well.
“I know, I’m just shocked you said it right on the first try."
Jeremy chuckled to himself as he listened to them bicker back and forth, holding Gavin tightly against and soaking up the contact for as long as he could. The words, ‘Next time,’ floated around in his head and he hid his face into the crook of Gavin’s neck and smiled.
a physical phenomenon produced by the motion of electric charge, resulting in attractive and repulsive forces between objects.
the ability to attract and charm people.
Warnings: past verbal abuse, drug mention, bullying
Word Count: 10,108 words
They were staring. He wasn't a stranger to the feeling of being stared at by his peers, but it was strange that Mr. Sorola was staring, too. It took him a moment to realize that he had apparently been asked a question, and, instead of answering, had continued to stare into his abyss of physics-induced confusion. With heat rising on his cheeks, he finally, meekly, responded, “I’m-I’m sorry, sir, can you repeat the question, please?”
Snickers from behind him served to only deepen his embarrassment, and he found himself sinking in his seat automatically; no matter how many times he was laughed at or stared at, it never got any easier.
Mr. Sorola simply gave him a look before repeating his previously unanswered question, “Can you tell me, what is the difference between centripetal acceleration and centrifugal force, Ryan?”
“Um…” Ryan, internally, was panicking, trying his damnedest to recall the reading the night before that he had only partially grasped, even with diagrams and copies amounts of Google searching. Chest tight, he stuttered out a quiet reply, “Centripetal acceleration is the velocity of an object traveling on an arc, and centrifugal force is the imaginary force felt by the object in an arc?”
Mr. Sorola nodded slowly, giving Ryan a small smile, “That definitely covers the basics, but there is one important point you left out of your definition. Anyone know what that is? Marcus?”
“Centrifugal force is based on an unrestrained object, and acts in opposite of the direction of centripetal acceleration, which points to the center.”
“Good!”
Ryan breathed a sigh of relief as attention was taken away from him and back to the whiteboard in the front of the classroom, where Mr. Sorola was writing the textbook’s definition of the two words, along with some terribly drawn examples. Mechanically, Ryan jotted the words down without really processing what they meant; he had never been good in science classes, with the exception of computer science. Most of his talents went to the arts, specifically English and theatre. So, Physics? Yeah, not exactly his specialty.
But he needed this class to graduate in the Spring, or risk having to retake it again for a December graduation. He was already one of the few black sheep in the school; he didn’t really want to make himself an even bigger target for ridicule.
The bell rang, braking Ryan’s once again wandering train of thought, and he closed up his notebook, Mr. Sorola stopping him with a hand on his desk, “Wait a sec, will you, Ryan? I want to talk to you.”
Never one to argue with authority, Ryan nodded, “Of course, sir.”
The classroom emptied fairly quickly, teens all hurrying to their next classes, eager to avoid scoldings or detentions from tardies, something Ryan himself would have been worried about if his next class hadn’t been with Mr. Ramsey, the most laid back AP English teacher Ryan had ever known. As long as he showed up and seemed to “know his shit” — Mr. Ramsey’s words, not his — the teacher could care less if they were on time.
“So, Ryan,” Mr. Sorola began, hopping up on the counter that occupied the front of every science classroom in the building, Ryan staying perfectly still at his desk, waiting for the inevitable scorn that every science teacher seemed to give him. Instead. the teacher seemed thoughtful, “I can tell you’re doing the reading, but you’re having issues with putting together the concepts, right?”
Ryan nodded, “Right. Science…hasn’t exactly been my strong suit.”
Mr. Sorola laughed quietly, “Well, Physics isn’t exactly the easiest of the core three. Some people get it instantly. Most take a bit of work; trust me, you aren’t the only one having a bit of trouble.”
Somehow, that did manage to put Ryan at ease a bit, “But, you are my only senior. And since this course is only offered in the fall, I don’t want you having to fall back a half of a year just because of this.”
“I…don’t really either, sir. I’m trying, but it just…goes right over my head no matter how many times I read it.”
Mr. Sorola held up a hand, stopping Ryan’s upset ramble before it could ever take off, “I know. I see how hard you’re trying. And I want to make sure you pass this class. So, I wanted to ask if you’ve ever thought of getting tutoring?”
Ryan wanted to laugh, a bitter feeling rising in his chest, “No, sir, because I didn’t think there was anyone who would be willing.”
The slightly annoyed look only stayed on the man’s face for a second, and, somehow, Ryan knew it wasn’t annoyance with him. Teachers weren’t blind; they could see how most of Ryan’s class seemed to hold him in contempt, not making an effort to get to know the shy and quiet senior.
Before Mr. Sorola could reply, an accented voice interrupted the quiet in the classroom, “Mr. Sorola? You said you wanted me to stop in?”
Ryan stared as Mr. Sorola waved in the lanky British teen, glancing back to Ryan, “Yeah, I did, Gavin, thanks for coming by. It’s about that tutoring thing you and I talked about a week ago, remember?”
Gavin nodded with a bright smile, “Yup! You said you thought you might have someone?”
“I do,” Mr. Sorola motioned to the so far silent Ryan, “Gavin, this is Ryan Haywood. Ryan, this is Gavin Free, one of my AP Physics students.”
The introduction wasn’t really necessary for Ryan; who in the school didn’t know Gavin? Star runner on the Cross Country team, Soccer team captain and forward, popular with pretty much anyone who was anyone in the school. He didn’t seem to have any enemies, much unlike Ryan, and had more friends than Ryan could count on his hands, also unlike Ryan.
And this was the tutor his teacher had in mind? Oh, he was screwed.
Gavin kept the bright smile, nodding to Ryan as if he had just made a new friend, “Nice to meet you, Ryan!”
Ryan could only manage a quiet, “Likewise.”
It didn’t seem to offend Gavin, at least.
“What do you say, Ryan? I think having someone help you work though it all might help you out. But, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Mr. Sorola raised his eyebrows in question at his student, Ryan glancing between Gavin and his teacher a bit uncertainly. Dimly, he heard the tardy bell ring in the now mostly silent hallway.
“I guess, if you’re willing to, Gavin…I…I can give it a shot,” Gavin’s smile turned beaming at his soft reply.
“Of course! Do you get here early? Or would you rather stay after?” Gavin seemed more excited for this than Ryan was, but he was starting to feel a bit better seeing the younger teen’s enthusiasm.
“I tend to get here early,” Ryan replied, voice rising a bit in volume, “My aunt normally drops me off at about 7:15.”
“Alright, then, meet in the library at about 7:20 or so? And we can take a look at some of the stuff giving you issues, yeah?”
Ryan nodded, finally managing to give Gavin a small smile, “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”
“Great!” Mr. Sorola finally spoke up, giving them both grins, “Now that you two got that settled, what teachers am I going to have to suck up to now that you’re both late?”
Gavin laughed, and Ryan was surprised by how…almost infectious it was; he found himself smiling a bit wider.
“Gotta apologize to Mr. Heyman for me, Mr. Sorola,” Ryan even chuckled at the groan that came from the Physics teacher, “Sorry.”
“Mine’s just Mr. Ramsey,” Ryan replied, Mr. Sorola seeming a bit more pleased by that.
“In that case, Ryan, here’s a note for Mr. Ramsey, and make sure he knows that it’s 100% true, alright?” Ryan wasn’t quite used to the mischievous grin on his teacher’s face, but had to stifle a snicker at the bright yellow note that proclaimed that Ryan was late because “Physics is way better than English, and you know it, Ramsey.”
“Thanks, Mr. Sorola,” Ryan said, getting up from the desk and grabbing his things, glad he was already prepared with the small paperback Mr. Ramsey had them reading right then, “I’ll see you in the morning, Gavin.”
“See ya, Ryan!” Gavin said with a small wave, Mr. Sorola looking less than pleased at having to deal with Mr. Heyman. Ryan almost laughed again when he overheard the teacher’s next words.
“Come on, Gavin, I might as well walk you down there, since Heyman would only think the note was a forgery or something.”
The next morning, armed with his Physics homework and a carton of orange juice, Ryan entered the library, giving a sleepy wave to the librarian, Ms. Ward, a sweet Australian woman whose love of books was only surpassed by her love of her husband, Mr. Pattillo, the school’s beloved woodworking teacher.
Gavin was already set up at one of the tables, and he grinned as Ryan plopped down, offering up a cheery greeting, “Mornin’, Ryan!”
“Morning,” Ryan said in a mumble, still not quite awake enough to function. At least Gavin seemed more amused than annoyed by his grogginess.
And that’s how it started. And that’s how the next morning started. And the next and the next. It became a routine, Ryan plopping down in the library across from Gavin and the two working together to decode Ryan’s homework. And, in return, Ryan was able to help Gavin: while he was amazing in Physics and most sciences, the arts were much harder for him to grasp, and the arts were where Ryan excelled.
And Ryan, well, Ryan was starting to enjoy Gavin’s morning company, starting to enjoy having at least one friendly face in the flood of apathetic and vindictive peers. Part of him wished he could see it more often, outside of the library and in the halls. But he didn’t dare approach him any other time, not when he was surrounded by some of the most popular athletes in the school, like Michael Jones, star quarterback; or Jeremy Dooley, champion gymnast and wrestler; or even Lindsay Tuggey, the Volleyball center who scored the winning point in last year’s state championship.
Yeah, Ryan had no chance with those people. He had nothing in common with them, that he knew of at least. He knew very little about sports, enough to get him though the mandatory PE classes, but that was it. He was more likely to be found reading or working on his latest computer program that he was probably accidentally going to make work. Or daydreaming about acting, but not actually auditioning. The only thing he could count in the “common interests” category was Gavin.
But, sometimes, like the saying goes, “necessity is the mother of invention”, and that’s how he found himself hesitantly approaching their uproarious table after picking at his lunch, the combination of nerves from needing to approach Gavin outside their usual setting and the nerves from his upcoming Physics test turning his stomach inside out. But, putting on a brave face, he stepped up behind Gavin, the table suddenly falling silent as the opposite side stared at him, Jones eyes narrowed in a glare that almost had him giving up on the whole thing. But, Gavin turned, and his bright, genuine smile eased a bit of his tension.
“Hi, Ryan!” Gavin made a motion for him to sit in the chair beside him, seemingly oblivious to the awkward silence that had befallen his normal friend group, “Take a seat. You doing some last minute studying for Mr. Sorola’s test, yeah?”
Ryan stiffly sat, focussing on Gavin and trying to ignore the others watching their interaction like hawks, “Yeah, but, uh…I wanted to see if…if I, uh, had this right?” his voice was shaking, a tremor that appeared when his nerves were on high, “Do you mind…giving me a hand?”
“Not at all!” Gavin said, turning to face him fully, Ryan gingerly setting his book down on the table and motioning towards one particular section that was giving him issues, “Ah, yeah, this is tricky. Why don’t you tell me what you know, and I’ll see if we need to fill in any gaps.”
With a wavering hesitance, he started to speak, his jitters causing him to stumble over his words, to get confused and backtrack, but all the while Gavin stayed patient, giving him encouraging nods when he got things right, but he knew the others at the table were watching him. He could feel their judging stares on him, and he felt like his heart was going to beat straight out of his chest.
Then he made the mistake of glancing at Jones and Tuggey, his gaze glossing over to Ray Narvaez, well known stoner and long-time best friend of Jones; then along to Meg Turney, cross country runner who won Regionals the last two years. And they all were watching him with a sort of pitying humor, like the kind of smiles you gave to someone you thought was slow. And Jones…Jones was trying his damnedest not to laugh.
And that was when Ryan’s resolve crumbled.
Gavin furrowed his brows when he trailed off, before following his eyes over to his friends, Gavin’s own gaze raking over them. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had made Ryan stop his jumbled explanation of motion, Gavin finally leveling a glare at Jones.
“Michael,” it was a soft warning, one that Jones not only didn’t heed, but laughed in reply to.
“That was the shittiest fucking explanation of fucking motion I have ever heard,” Jones crowed, clutching his sides as he laughed. Ryan closed his book quietly, shrinking in his seat, bowing his head, flinching when Jones continued, “Fucking idiot.”
“You’re a fucking idiot, James. A useless fucking idiot.”
With a voice he hadn’t heard in two years ringing in his head, he stood, grabbing his book, not looking at any of them as he moved to make a quick exit, “Sorry for disturbing you. I’ll see you in the morning, Gavin.”
“Ryan, wait!” Gavin was standing up, ready to stop him, but Ryan was already bolting for the cafeteria doors. The last thing he heard before the door closed was Gavin’s angry, accented voice rounding on Jones.
“Michael, you are the biggest prick I have ever met.”
The telling off brought him no comfort.
Ryan contemplated not even going to school the next day, but, with no solid excuse as to why to convince his aunt, he found himself trudging into the library as he did every morning, head down and trying to make himself as small as possible. His wave to Ms. Ward was half-hearted, and even his smile to Gavin was barely present. Gavin, in return, was watching him in concern, not moving as Ryan pulled out his Physics homework for Gavin to look over. Ryan couldn’t look him in the eye as Gavin started to speak, quiet and gentle.
“Ryan, I’m sorry for yesterday. What Michael did was horrible and I made sure he knew it.”
Ryan kept his gaze fixed solely on his textbook, his own voice low and tired, “No, you don’t need to apologize. I’m used to it. I shouldn’t have bothered you, anyway. I’m sorry.”
“Ryan, you shouldn’t be used to it. Those kind of actions…no one deserves that, let alone you. And you weren’t bothering me,” Gavin paused at Ryan’s soft snort of disbelief, “I’m serious! I like spending time with you, Ryan.”
Ryan finally did raise his head slightly, warily looking for any sign of a joke, but all he saw was pure sincerity, and it confused him, “You…you do?”
“Yeah,” Gavin said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “You’re funny. And you are smart…very smart, in fact. And you’re always willing to help me figure out what the bloody hell this literature is trying to say. You’re a good guy, Ryan, and I really do want to get to know you better.”
Ryan was honestly surprised by that, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up; if Gavin did get to know him, there was that chance that he would’t like what he discovered, and that would leave Ryan alone again. But…it’d been so long since anyone his age had been kind to him, and Gavin sincerely seemed to enjoy his company. Maybe…maybe he finally had a chance.
Then he remembered.
Looking away again, he quietly mumbled, “You were with your friends, and I shouldn’t have interrupted yesterday.”
“You’re my friend, too, Ryan.”
Ryan’s head snapped up, staring at Gavin as if Gavin had just told him he was actually God himself in disguise as a high school student. Gavin himself seemed startled by Ryan’s sudden reaction, and he quickly put two and two together, expression turning sad and worried, “Ryan, when was the last time someone called you a friend?”
He honestly had to think about it. He had to think back quite a ways to find the last person to call him a friend, “Years ago. Elementary school, I think? I’ve been the odd one out for quite a while, but I got used to it. I had to.”
“Jesus,” Gavin breathed, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up more than it normally did, “Whelp, you better get un-used to it, you sausage. Cause you got yourself a friend.”
Ryan wasn’t sure what part of that sentence he wanted to focus on more, so he went with the part that would be least likely to make him get his hopes up even more, “Did you just call me a sausage?”
Gavin started laughing, quickly quieting down when Ms. Ward gave him a look, though she still had that kind smile on her face, Gavin Giving her a sheepish wave before replying to Ryan’s incredulous question, “Yes, I did, because you’re a sausage, and a silly sausage at that.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means you’re a sausage.”
“Are we talking breakfast sausage? Or, like, Italian sausage? Or am I a hot dog?” Ryan finally smiled when Gavin dissolved into stifled giggles, shaking his head in amusement.
“You’re a silly sausage,” Gavin stated matter-of-factly when he managed to control his laughter, “Which, speaking of breakfast, I got you something as an apology for yesterday.”
Ryan started to protest until Gavin tossed him a paper bag, Ryan unable to resist peeking in, eyes lighting up at the two donuts and the chocolate milk inside. They were even his favorite kind, he discovered as he pulled one from the bag along with the milk: chocolate iced and creme filled. He hadn’t expected Gavin to remember their conversation a couple weeks back when they talked about donuts and how badly they had wanted some that morning, but he had, and that gave him a small spark of joy knowing that someone else cared about what he liked.
“Gavin, you didn’t have to,” Ryan said, looking back up at him, Gavin seeming pleased that Ryan liked his gift, “But thank you. I didn’t get breakfast this morning, so I’m starved.”
“It’s the least I could do after yesterday,” Gavin replied, amused when Ryan dug into the donut as if it was the best thing he had ever eaten in his life, “Now, while you devour those, lemme see your homework, yeah?”
Gavin managed to surprise him again later that day, when he quietly trudged into the cafeteria, making a beeline to his normal table in the corner, only to find it already occupied. Gavin was waving cheerily from the seat to the right of the one he usually sat in, but he wasn’t alone. Jeremy Dooley, the school’s star gymnast, known for his skill on bars and rings, sat across from Ryan’s seat. Next to him was Meg Turney, giving him a kind and apologetic smile, obviously remorseful about what had transpired 24 hours ago. Ryan approached, and Gavin obviously saw the confusion in his expression.
“Hey, Rye!” Gavin greeted happily as he sat down, warm smile putting Ryan’s nerves at ease, “Hope you don’t mind a bit of company.”
“No, n-not at all,” Ryan smiled, though still a bit wary of both Dooley and Turney watching him, though it seemed like neither had any sort of ill feelings toward him. Especially when Dooley speaks directly to him with a friendliness reminiscent of Gavin’s.
“Gav was worried you’d be mad we took your spot,” Dooley tells him in a playful stage whisper, ignoring the indignant huff from Gavin, “He worries about shit like that.”
Ryan chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow at Gavin; teasing Gavin he could do. That was something he knew he could do, “Aww, you’re so considerate.”
Gavin sulked, though the happiness was still alight in his eyes, “You both are awful. Meg, make them stop, Meg!”
Turney laughed and patted Gavin’s arm consolingly, “Sorry, but you’re on your own, Gav.”
“I need new damned friends, that’s what I need!”
There was a warmth in Ryan’s chest at being included in that statement, being considered a friend to someone, especially someone like Gavin, a someone normally so unreachable to someone like Ryan. High school was all about what box you fit in, and making sure to stay in that box. But Ryan…Ryan’s “Weird Loner” box couldn’t have been further from Gavin’s “Popular Jock” box.
But, yet, here he was, chuckling at Gavin’s sulk.
“Oh, shit, guess I should have, you know, actually been polite and introduced myself, huh?” Dooley looks a bit sheepish as he looks at Ryan, “I’m Jeremy! Though, most people just call me J, anymore, lazy fucks. It’s nice to finally meet the Ryan that Gavin’s been telling us about for weeks.”
“Lillll J!” Gavin chirps, Jeremy tossing a balled up napkin at him in faux offense.
“Hi, Ryan,” Meg finally waved, still a bit apologetic, “If it’s okay, I’d like to start over. I’m Meg.”
Ryan smiled shyly at them both, “That-that sounds good. It’s nice to meet you guys, too.”
Gavin looked overjoyed to see all his friends getting along with each other. Well, almost all. Ryan knew they were being watched, and a quick glance confirmed it. But it wasn’t a hostile glare they were receiving from Michael Jones, but a considering one. As if he was trying to figure something out that he hadn’t thought about before. Lindsay Tuggey was quietly talking to him, it seemed, and he wondered if they were talking about the day before, or if Ryan himself was just dwelling too hard on the past.
“Gavin says you’re really into literature,” Meg broke his train of thought, and he gave her a smile and a nod.
“Yeah, I am…turns out I understand words better than science,” Ryan said, pleased when Gavin laughed, “I, uh, I actually really like theatre, too.”
“That’s where I know you from!” Jeremy suddenly burst out, Ryan looking at him, surprised, “You took Theatre 1 the same time I did! You did that really fucking awesome monologue that Mr. Ramsey still, to this day, denies that he cried during.”
“You’re kidding!” Gavin seemed impressed, obviously familiar with the story, Meg also looking quite delighted and awed, “You were the one that made him cry in class with the monologue? That story is bloody legendary!”
Ryan was pink by this point, ducking his head in pleased bashfulness, “Yeah, yeah, that was me. I don’t know that it was legendary, though. It was good, and I’m still really proud of it, but I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Dude,” Jeremy laughed, “Mr. Ramsey still isn’t over it. “
“Trust me, I know,” Ryan sighed in mock suffering, “He brings it up every time we read a play in class and he gives me a part. Tells me not to make him cry again.”
“You absolutely try, though, right?” Meg grinned, and Ryan found he liked that they had the same ideas as he gave her a devious grin.
“Of course!”
Gavin was gigging squeakily buy this point, nearly off his chair, and Ryan grabbed the back of his hoodie to keep him from falling to the floor, “You’re awful, Ryan! If you make him cry again, please get video of it.”
“Just because you asked, I will.”
“Aww,” Gavin parroted his words from earlier, “You’re so considerate.”
Ryan raised his eyebrow again, schooling himself into ‘unimpressed’, “Or maybe I won’t”
“That’s mean, Ryan!”
Lunch continued this way for a week, Ryan getting to know both Jeremy and Meg, and them getting to know him. He learned that Jeremy was very musically inclined, and liked to write his own raps and songs and could play piano since he was a kid. He had learned that Meg was actually just as nerdy as he was when it came to video games and anime, and they often geeked out about new things, making Gavin just shake his head in lost, but fond, exasperation.
He was learning that there was more to them than just the popular facade he had first seen.
A full week since the day that he had been laughed at by Jones, he was once again surprised at lunch, because, not only was Gavin, Jeremy, and Meg sitting there, but three more had joined them. Jones, Narvaez, and Tuggey looked quite unsure of themselves, probably just as much as Ryan himself did. But the smiles of his friends — a word he still couldn’t believe he could use — reassured him as he sat down, placing his tray lightly on the table.
There was an awkward tension between them all, Gavin giving Jones a very pointed stare until Jones finally spoke directly to Ryan, “Look, Haywood, what happened last week? I was a dick. I giant fucking dick, and I’m sorry, alright? I’m not gonna make any fucking excuses, because I don’t have any. I judged you on petty shit, and I shouldn’t have. So, uh, yeah. I wanted to apologize. You seem like a cool dude, from what I keep hearing from Gavvers, Lil J, and Turney. So, what do you say? Truce?”
Ryan looked from Jones to Gavin, Gavin’s expression telling him that it was all up to him. He sighed quietly before nodding, “Truce. Just, um, please don’t do it again?”
Jones shook his head, and Ryan could tell he was being sincere when he replied, “Not a problem, dude. It was a shitty thing for me to do anyway, but I think Gavin might actually kill me if I did it again.”
“Nah,” Gavin said with a grin that told them it wasn’t quite true.
“RIP,” was Narvaez’ rather succinct addition, “Rest in fucking pieces, dude.”
“Ray, please.”
Gavin sighed, rolling his eyes, “Guess they aren’t gonna introduce themselves, are they?”
“Nope,” Tuggey laughed, before waving to Ryan from the other end of the table, “I’m Lindsay, that asshole’s girlfriend.”
“That asshole being Michael,” Gavin explained unnecessarily, “Who is, indeed, an asshole.”
“I get it, you fucks.”
“Hey,” Narvaez leaned forward around Gavin, giving Ryan a nod, “I’m Ray, the very abused and very unlucky best friend of that asshole.”
“Oh, fuck you, Ray.”
“Sorry, not interested, bro. Lindsay might, though.”
The banter continued, and Ryan shot Gavin a look that just asked if this was normal. Gavin could only nod with a playfully resigned smile. And in that moment, Ryan found himself with three new friends, who, once he got to know them a bit better, found they were just as inviting and playful and kind as Gavin had been in the beginning.
Winter break came too soon, in his opinion, with finals the last hurdle between them and three weeks of freedom. And with finals, came Ryan’s panic. He had to do well on his Physics final. He had to. And it seemed like Gavin had caught on to his panic, and was doing everything he could to help Ryan prepare. In turn, Ryan helped him, and, surprisingly, all their friends, prepare for English. Their study groups in the library before and after school became a routine, Ms. Ward welcoming them every time with a cheery wave, and, sometimes, candy that they always thanked her for.
It was a week before finals that he discovered something new about Gavin, that seemed to be common knowledge to everyone else. And it came in the form of Mr. Ramsey.
Their after school study session was starting to wind down, their focus moving towards the game of Halo they had played the night before, teasing Gavin about how bad he had done and praising Ryan for his game-winning shot, to which Ryan was bashful. Their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of three members of faculty, one instantly moving to kiss his wife on the cheek. That was Mr. Pattillo, a kindhearted man who taught various shop classes and was one of the most loved teachers in the school. Beside him was Mr. Sorola, who stopped to chat with Ms. Ward. Finally, the last was Mr. Ramsey, who didn’t hesitate to stride right over to their group, all of them greeting him happily.
“Look at you guys, being good students for once! Ryan, you gotta be some kind of miracle worker,” Mr. Ramsey grabbed one of the chairs, flopping down in it carelessly, “Actually, no, I know you’re a miracle worker. I never thought I’d see the day these guys would understand literature so well. Especially Shakespeare.”
“Apparently,” Ryan offered, small smile on his face, “You just have to tell them to expect that every line in a Shakespearian play is a dick joke.”
“Damn, I’ll have to make a note of that. Who knew, high school kids like dick jokes,” he deadpanned, making the group laugh before he smirked at Gavin, “Whaddaya think, kid? You ready to head home?”
“Yeah, I guess. I have to finish your homework, anyway, so I can play some more Halo,” Gavin stretched, flipping his Econ book closed.
“You mean get your ass kicked again,” Michael teased, shoving his rather abused notebook into his bag.
“Language, Jones,” Mr. Ramsey playfully scolded as Gavin finally seemed to catch Ryan’s rather curious look, his eyes flicking between Gavin and Mr. Ramsey. Gavin’s eyes widened in realization before he gave Ryan a rather sheepish smile. Mr. Ramsey didn’t miss the exchange and seemed to realize the same thing at the same time, sighing deeply, “Gavin.”
“Yeah?”
“You never told Ryan, did you, buddy?”
“Nope.”
“Told me what?” Ryan finally asked, feeling completely lost as he looked between the two, the rest of their friends obviously realizing, Meg laughing.
“Oh my God, Gav! You’re such a piece of shit!” they were all laughing, and Ryan was ready to shrink down in his seat out of habit, though they were all laughing at Gavin and not him.
“It never came up!” Gavin defended, before turning to Ryan, shrugging, “Sorry, Rye. Geoff here is my adopted dad; he took me in when I was little. So, yeah.”
“Oh,” Ryan rather eloquently, blinking in surprise, “Never would have guessed that.”
“Because he sucks at English?” Mr. Ramsey snorted, a grin telling Ryan that he was just teasing, “Because I considered disowning him. Or sending him back or something.”
“Sorry, Geoffrey,” Gavin grinned, “No returns.”
“I knew I should have asked about the damn return policy. Griffon wouldn’t let me, though.”
“It’s because she’s cooler than you, Geoff,” Jeremy added in, Mr. Ramsey just nodding solemnly.
“She really is,” he said, a wistful note to his voice before he returned his attention to Ryan, “So, long story short, I adopt this lovable idiot and I can’t return him because my wife might kill me. Also, outside of school, call me Geoff. Mr. Ramsey feels weird.”
Ryan laughed finally, nodding, “Alright, noted. Also, if you do send him back, please make it after my Physics final.”
“You got it, buddy,” Geoff laughed, Gavin squawking in indignation.
“Ryan! I thought we were friends, Ryan!”
Ryan grinned brightly, “We are. But if he deports you, I gotta have my priorities straight, here.”
“He’s just looking out for his best interests, Gavin,” Lindsay agreed, grinning at Ryan, “Smart man.”
“Thanks, Lindsay.”
“You lot are awful,” Gavin huffed, crossing his arms, “The bloody worst.”
“Nah,” Ryan said, smirking, Gavin cracking into a smile, “We’re obviously the best.”
Murmurs of agreement went through the group as they all nodded seriously, or as seriously as they could get. Gavin just groaned and let his head hit the table with a ‘thunk’.
Finals came and went, Ryan actually managing a B on his Physics final, a feat he never thought he would achieve. Winter break was filled with gaming and hanging out, both around town, and at the Ramsey house. Ryan found that he really enjoyed spending time at Gavin’s, even if it was just him and Gavin without any of their other friends. Geoff and Griffon definitely seemed fond of him, as well, making a point to keep Ryan for dinner the nights his Aunt, an ER nurse, would be working, if just to ensure he ate something better than a bowl of Fruit Loops and three Diet Cokes.
As the days passed, Ryan found himself growing ever closer to Gavin, and ever more fond. He enjoyed spending time with him, even if it was just lazily lounging in Gavin’s room, playing some awful indie co-op game, and just taking in the addicting sound of Gavin’s laughter.
But, as Spring semester started, he slowly began to realize that, maybe, how he felt about Gavin wasn’t as simple as friendship. Not that he really had anything to compare it to, but if he went off his other friendships, Gavin was much more important to him.
Not to say he didn’t care about his other friends, no, not at all. Jeremy and Meg were his biggest fans in Advanced Theatre, and the three managed to pull off a comedy skit that had Mr. Ramsey in tears (true to his word, Ryan got video of it and proudly showed Gavin). It was Meg that introduced him to Blaine Gibson, the President of the school’s Drama Club and Mr. Ramsey’s assistant for any plays that the school put on. Through Blaine, he met Miles Luna and Kerry Shawcross, two aspiring screenwriters whose work was quite good, from what they had allowed Ryan to read.
Michael, obviously still trying to make up for his original treatment of Ryan, became his personal bodyguard, standing up for Ryan to anyone who dared to mock him for his reserved and quiet personality. Once they got a tongue lashing from Michael “Dynamite” Jones, they never said a word against him again. Lindsay had introduced him to some of the girls she knew from volleyball who were also interested in acting: Barbara Dunkleman, Arryn Zech, and Kara Eberle to name a few. Both her and Meg had introduced him to Mica Burton, as well, who had worked on a few of Mr. Ramsey’s productions as costume and makeup crew.
And even Ray, who he honestly thought he would have nothing in common with, proved to be a solid friend, who seemed to know when Ryan needed a breather from the sheer amount of people who suddenly seemed to know him and would lead him to one of his many hidey-holes. When Ryan would thank him, he would just shrug, “We’re the R & R Connection, man.”
But Gavin remained his go-to, his default when he needed a friend. At first, Ryan labelled him a best friend, a phrase Ryan never dreamt he could ever use, and one that, when softly and shyly uttered to Gavin one night in the Ramsey’s dining room as they worked on homework together, his Aunt working a double, had Gavin hugging him tight; the next day had him playfully bragging to them all about being Ryan’s best friend, and seeing Gavin so proud of the title only seemed to make the fondness grow.
It was only when his group in English were discussing whether the protagonist of their current reading had a crush on another character or i they were just really close, that he started to really examine how he felt about Gavin.
He approached it like he would a novel, trying to read between the lines, but real life wasn’t like a novel; novels were only one section of the characters’ lives, but reality was everything. You couldn’t read between lines that weren’t there. And that was far more frustrating than Ryan cared to admit.
Gavin meant a lot to him, he knew, but whether it was because Gavin had been the first person his own age to treat him with kindness, or if he really was crushing on him, he honestly didn’t know. He’d never managed to get this close to anyone to really know what it felt like, nor had he ever wished to get romantically attached to anyone.
But, sometimes, all it took was one thing to bring light to the answer. And that light came in the form of Gavin’s right hook.
Soccer season was in full swing, which meant Ryan was spending more time at school after the last bell rang than he ever thought he would. He was also, rather helplessly, trying to understand the sport Gavin was quite passionate about. That Wednesday evening was warm, and Ryan reclined on the metal bleachers next to the soccer field, watching the team run drills, smiling at the gleeful expression on Gavin’s face as he ran around the field (“Pitch,” Gavin had very sternly corrected him the first time he called it a field).
He had noticed the guys loitering around most of the time he was there, but paid them no mind. At one time, Ryan would have been wary, but it seemed having friends had relaxed the guard he had always kept up.
He knew he should have been more worried when they finally approached him.
“Sup, Haywood,” one of them, the ‘alpha asshole’ as he’d heard Michael refer to the type as, was towering over his sitting form, “Shouldn’t you be at home with your mommy? Oh, wait.”
Ryan froze, breath catching in his throat as he stared at the laughing teens before him. No one had known why Ryan had moved here two years ago from Georgia save for him and his aunt. But, somehow, they knew.
“E-excuse me?” was all he could manage past the tightness in his chest.
“We were doing a little digging, Haywood, and we found a bit more than dirt. But just a bit,” one of the others snorted, the third continuing.
“Your daddy left and your mommy in jail. So fucking tragic, isn’t it?”
Ryan felt sick, so very sick.
“Your life’s a fucking tragedy, isn’t it, James? A useless idiot with no Daddy and a Mama like me.”
“What do you want?” Ryan just wanted them to leave him be, for everyone to just leave him be. Was understanding too much to ask?
He never got his answer.
Gavin had noticed the commotion in the stands, as had the team, and their coach, and Gavin was approaching, two of the team’s defenders standing nearby, ready to assist if need be. In that moment, Ryan had never been so happy to see Gavin, to see anyone, in his life.
“Is there a problem, here, lads?” Gavin said, false cheerfulness dripping from his words.
“Yeah,” Asshole One replied, “Your little boyfriend doesn’t fucking belong here, Free. He just needs to go back to the crack den he crawled out of and stay there.”
“He belongs here as much as I do,” Gavin’s voice had gone cold, as cold as Ryan’s body felt, that little self-critical voice in the back of his mind saying they were right. They were right. He didn’t belong here, and he was an idiot for believing he did.
“You think you’re so much better, don’t you, James. That you’re above me. You’re wrong. This is what you’ll always be, son, so get fucking used to it.”
Asshole Three scoffed in Gavin’s face, “Which is to say you don’t. You think you’re so high and fucking mighty because a couple of teachers took pity on you.”
The defenders had stepped closer, and Ryan shakily stood, placing a gentle hand on Gavin’s tense shoulder, “Gavin, it’s fine. Ignore them. Go back to practice.”
“Listen to your boyfriend, Free. Wouldn’t want to get in trouble with mommy and daddy would you?” Asshole Two mocked, “Maybe you should share, since Haywood’s are busy not giving a shit about him.”
“There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret having you. You ruined everything, James. Everything.”
Gavin’s voice was cutting when he replied, “Sounds more like your mom. Wasn’t she having an affair with your uncle?”
It seemed that was the breaking point, that they couldn’t take what they dished out, and suddenly a fist was flying, Asshole One missing Gavin as he ducked, Ryan not as lucky, the fist striking him in the jaw and sending him down to land hard against the metal of the bleachers, wind knocked completely from his body. He could hear the coach’s whistle as he ran forward, and the defenders trying to stop anything else from happening.
But, they didn’t manage it before Gavin’s own fist was connecting with the face of Asshole One.
The rest of the time was a blur as he was escorted to Mr. Hullum’s office, ice pack pressed to his jaw, Gavin with a pack on his fist, as they waited their turn to tell the story. Ryan stayed silent, heart still racing, chest still tight, body still cold. Gavin had tried to talk to him a couple times, to no avail.
Their turn came far quicker than Ryan liked, the trio of Assholes escorted out to sit in the chairs across from them, the two being beckoned in by a solemn Mr. Burns, Mr. Hullum leveling them with a critical stare.
“Well, care to tell us what happened?”
Ryan opened his mouth to speak, but Gavin beat him to it, his voice so much stronger than Ryan’s would have been, “Those guys approached Ryan wanting to start trouble. Ryan was just sitting there, he wasn’t doing anything wrong. And I saw them talking to him and I saw Ryan start to get upset so I asked coach if I could take a second to maybe diffuse the situation. When I got up there, they were saying horrible things about Ryan and then they started saying horrible things about me. And Ryan just wanted me to ignore it, but I…I just made it worse. And I saw them hit Ryan and I just saw red.”
Gavin glanced over at Ryan for a moment, looking back at Mr. Hullum and Mr. Burns, “Ryan did nothing wrong. I did.”
“You know, Mr. Free,” Mr. Hullum began, watching them both, “Fighting on school property is grounds for suspension from extracurriculars.”
Ryan didn’t think his chest could tighten any more than it did, the sick feeling turning his stomach.
“I know,” Gavin lowered his head, voice so soft, defeated, and Ryan couldn’t stand it. This was his fault.
“It’s always your fault, James. Remember that.”
Ryan found his voice in his desperation, “Please. Please don’t do that to him. He was trying to defend me, because I’m apparently too weak to do it myself, or I would have. Please, don’t…this…this was my fault, not his.”
It looked like Gavin wanted so much to argue, but had the sense to stay quiet this time, both of them watching the Principal and Dean, awaiting their fate. Mr. Burns was eyeing Ryan with something contemplative in his gaze, but Mr. Hullum was still watching them with the calm air of authority.
“No, we’re not, Mr. Haywood. But, you can’t go without punishment; the handbook is clear on the penalties for participating in a fight. So, I have notified Mr. Ramsey as well as your aunt, Mr. Haywood, of our decision to suspend you for the remainder of the week. Mr. Ramsey has agreed to bring your assignments to you, and you may return to class on Monday morning. It is your responsibility to make up anything you may miss.”
“Yes, sir,” Ryan murmured, Gavin echoing him. A feeling of relief loosened the binds around his abdomen, knowing that Gavin wasn’t going to be kicked off the team he loved just because of him. He never would have forgiven himself.
Geoff was waiting for them outside, the trio of Assholes gone, presumably home where they, too, would be suspended. He wore a disappointed frown as he offered them their bags, though that frown would later become a bit more understanding as they explained to Geoff and Griffon what had transpired.
Together they sat on Gavin’s bed, the dim light of his bedside lamp casting long shadows on the various objects scattered around the room. But they were quiet, Ryan’s jaw aching, purple bruise forming where the fist connected. Gavin’s fist was darkened, bruising as well, and he assumed it ached just as bad.
He still felt so cold, even next to Gavin, like he had been dunked in ice water and left there. It had felt like ice water when he had heard their words. And now Gavin knew, too. Gavin, who had been so kind, and meant so much to him, now knew his darkest secret.
And now, he was so sure he was about to lose him. After all, who wanted to care about someone whose own parents didn’t care about them?
But Gavin didn’t know everything, and he wanted him to know the full story before cutting ties. He deserved that much.
“I left Georgia two years ago,” he started softly, gaze not wavering from the bedspread he was toying with, “Because my mom was arrested for possession. Meth. And because I had no other family and am still considered a minor, Social Services granted my aunt custody.
“But it had been going on for so much longer. My dad left when I was two because he couldn’t deal with it. I don’t even know his name. I grew up with it, all around me. It was a small town, and everyone knew her reputation, and I was guilty by association. No one wanted their kids playing with a druggie’s son. I grew up alone. I took care of myself, because no one else would. And my mom…it was like two different people. One minute she’d be loving and doting, the next…she’d be angry, screaming at me, telling me she wished I had never been born. It…it was confusing to a kid. And I guess…that’s why I never really tried to make friends here. Some part of me believed her when she called me useless and an idiot. It still does,” Ryan closed his eyes, trying so hard to hold back the tears he wanted to shed, because he didn’t believe he deserved them. That Gavin deserved to deal with them.
But Gavin’s hand was suddenly warm on his, and Ryan looked up, meeting his gaze, Gavin looking just as upset as Ryan felt, and he couldn’t look away, “You’re not an idiot, Ryan. You’re smart, so bloody smart. And kind. And brave. And just wonderful. You came from a shite place, but look at you now. Look at how much you’ve accomplished, Ryan. So many people care about you, and are proud of you,” Gavin took a breath, swallowing thickly, “Including me.”
Ryan wasn’t sure he could speak through the knot in his throat, and settled for gripping Gavin’s hand tighter, Gavin giving him a small, sad smile. For the first time, he felt like someone understood. That he wasn’t being judged for the sins of his mother.
He didn’t feel so alone.
“Since you shared with me,” Gavin said softly, looking at their hands, still together, “It’s only fair I share with you.”
“You don’t have to, Gavin,” Ryan was quick to soothe, to assure him that he wasn’t expecting anything in return, but Gavin shook his head.
“You’re the first person to really make me feel like I belonged here. I want to tell you, Ryan.”
And all he could do was nod.
“My mum,” Gavin started after a deep breath, “was an American woman. Geoff’s sister, actually. And, while in college, fell for a foreign student from the UK. Eventually, she agreed to move across the world for him, and they got married. Everything was great…until I came along. He…he didn’t like that I took so much of my mum’s attention from him. He resented me. My own father wanted nothing to do with me. And, so, he left my mum.
“Well, without stable income, in a foreign country, my mum realized she couldn’t care for me as well as I deserved, but she still wanted to amend things with my father. So she called Geoff. Geoff flew over and agreed to take me in until she was ready. Apparently, she never was.
“She got back with my father, after a few years of dating off and on, and she got a stable job. They actually remarried. I was thirteen when Geoff finally told me the truth, sat me down and gently told me that they had gotten remarried when I was four. And that they had two more kids. I have a damned brother and sister and I didn’t even know it until years later. My mum…my mum told Geoff that it was easier without me. That I reminded them too much of the bad times. Geoff, of course, was furious. I don’t think he’s talked to her since then, actually.
“So…I…I know how it feels, Ryan, to feel abandoned and let down by the people who are supposed to love you no matter what. To…to feel alone, even when there are people who love you all around,” Ryan gripped Gavin’s hand tighter, Gavin giving him a sad smile, “But…you…you really helped with that, Ryan.”
“I-I did?” his voice came out soft, and Gavin’s smile became a bit wider.
“Yeah, you did. I didn’t feel so alone with you. I…I didn’t really know why, either. Not until recently, at least.”
“Oh?” Ryan felt a nervous sort of hope flare in his chest, and he found himself brushing his thumb along Gavin’s knuckles gently, Gavin’s gaze flicking down then back up, smile so fond, so soft, “And what did you discover?”
He hadn’t really realized how close Gavin had gotten to him until then, how their bodies were warm against the other’s, and Ryan’s eyes never left Gavin’s as Gavin got even closer, a shy hesitance to his movements, as if waiting for permission to act on what they both wanted. On what they both had wanted for a while, if they were being honest. And whatever had been in his eyes seemed to give Gavin all the permission he needed, Gavin’s lips pressed gently to his, his eyes fluttering closed as he pressed back, both of them unsure and inexperienced, but letting gut feeling guide them. Ryan shyly reached up to place his hand on Gavin’s cheek, lips pressing a tiny bit harder together.
He had never felt like this, like everything was finally right. Like he had finally found home. And he never wanted it to end, never wanted to lose that feeling. The feeling tied so much to Gavin. The feeling that had always been tied to Gavin, even when he couldn’t put a name to it.
He rested his forehead against Gavin’s when they separated, hand still sweetly cupping Gavin’s cheek, and he had never felt more content in his life. And, from the smile on Gavin’s face, he was feeling it, too. There was a happiness bubbling in his chest, and he couldn’t contain the little elated giggle that passed through his lips, Gavin joining in within seconds.
“I like your discovery, Gavin,” he said matter-of-factly, causing Gavin to erupt in fresh giggles, Ryan finally reaching out and tugging Gavin close, hugging him, Gavin’s own arms wrapping around him as the weight forced him back against the wall, and Gavin to settle in his lap.
“I was worried you wouldn’t, Rye, but I guess I didn’t have to, huh?” Gavin shifted, lightly resting his head on Ryan’s chest, Ryan relishing in the gentle contact, far more starved for tactile comfort than he thought he was. Gavin was always handsy, with everyone, but this was different. This was another level. And he was quickly growing fond of it.
“Nah,” Ryan smiled warmly, and, on impulse, pressed a shy kiss to Gavin’s forehead, Gavin glancing up looking just as bashful, both of them giggling and blushing, Ryan relieved to know they were in the same boat. Meeting Gavin’s eyes again, he allowed himself to ask, “Can I k-kiss you, again, Gav?”
Gavin nodded, licking his lips, nervous excitement filling them both as Ryan pressed their lips together again, this kiss a bit less chaste than the one before it. Another kiss followed that one. And another followed that. And another. Each kiss was different than the last, each filled with wonder and curiosity and pure fondness for the other.
At some point they had curled up together on Gavin’s bed, legs tangled, hands gently exploring the other, not seeking to do anything more than learn the curves and angles and planes they found under their fingertips. Their kisses were more brave, but still so soft, and as exploring as their hands were.
They fell asleep curled together, neither one wanting the other too far away, Ryan finding it far more comforting sharing a bed than he ever thought he would, the solid warmth by his side soothing him into the best sleep he’d had in years.
Voices interrupted Ryan’s peaceful slumber, and he groggily started to listen, taking a moment to realize that he was still at the Ramsey’s and that it was Gavin cuddled so close to him, a fact that made butterflies fill his stomach, unable to contain his smile.
“Griff, look,” It was Geoff’s voice, something gleeful in the not-so-quiet whisper, before the door to Gavin’s room creaked open and Ryan had a moment of panic. Either he could try to move, or pretend he was still asleep. It seemed like the second option had been the right choice, “Look at them!”
“Shhh!” Griffon admonished her husband, much quieter than he was, “You’ll wake them.”
“Sorry, but it’s cute, okay?”
“And you say you aren’t a sap,” Griffon teased, Geoff huffing, “But, yes, it is cute. I wish it didn’t take a fight for them to finally admit that they liked each other.”
“Hey, whatever works,” Geoff laughed quietly, and Ryan heard the slap and whiny ‘ow’ that followed, “Alright, alright. Fight bad.”
“Yes, fight bad. Come on, leave them to their sleep, you have a class to teach that articles are overrated.”
The door clicked shut and Ryan found himself relaxing into the bed once more, dozing off for another few hours, at least, until Gavin stirred, and they both shyly made note of their position, and what had occurred the night before.
Together, they made themselves breakfast, a note sternly warning them not to burn down the house courtesy of Geoff, and they settled on the living room couch to eat, both content to lean against the other, still testing the boundaries, learning what the other was comfortable with.
But Ryan still had one last question.
“What are we, Gavin?”
Gavin turned to him, both of them eager and needing to know the answer, “What do you want to be, Ryan?”
“I-I dunno. What do you want us to be? Just friends? B-boyfriends?” he felt a blush creep onto his cheeks as he said the last word, Gavin’s own cheeks flushing.
“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, Ryan?”
“What if I am?” Ryan answered, emboldened by Gavin’s bright smile.
“Well,” Gavin pretended to consider his answer, “I would have to tell you that I would be delighted to be your boyfriend. And what if I asked you to be my boyfriend?”
Ryan grinned widely, “I would probably tell you that I would love nothing more than to be your boyfriend.”
Gavin threw his arms around Ryan’s neck in an instant, kissing him firmly, still not moving past the stage they were comfortable with, Ryan wrapping his own arms around Gavin.
Finally, he was happy. Finally, he was home.
He pulled the classroom door open with an apologetic smile to Mr. Sorola as he stopped his lecture to his AP Physics students, giving Gavin a warm smile. It had been a little over a month since the fight, and a little less than a month that the whole school discovered that popular jock Gavin Free was dating the quiet loner Ryan Haywood, a move that seemed to shock the gossip circles of the school, but surprised no one that actually knew the couple. In fact, their friends had been fiercely supportive, and dared anyone who had a problem to take it up with them.
“Ryan, what can I do for you?” Mr. Sorola smirked, not missing the glance between the two partners. It sucked when your boyfriend’s adopted dad was best friends with almost every teacher in the school.
Ryan handed him the note, “Just delivering some mail.”
His last hour of the day was spent assisting the offices, often running early dismissal slips or Dean’s summons to classrooms all over the building, though this was the first one to Gavin’s class.
Mr. Sorola read the note, nodded, and passed it on to the student it was for, and Ryan turned with a final smile at Gavin to return to his post in the main office when Mr. Sorola stopped him, “Hey, Ryan, can you give me a hand?”
He turned back around curiously, but nodded, not one to deny a teacher, “Sure, what can I do?”
“What do you remember about magnetism? And I know that was last semester and you no longer care now that you’re free from the evils of Physics,” Mr. Sorola said with a long suffering look, his class laughing quietly and Ryan grinning, “But these guys seem to be having a problem. And I remember you doing well in that unit.”
“Well,” Ryan started a bit nervously, eyes flicking over to Gavin, receiving an encouraging smile in return, one that helped him continue, “Magnetism is the physical phenomenon caused by the motion of charge resulting in either attraction or repulsion between objects. Magnetism is where we get the expression ‘opposites attract.’”
“And why is that?” Mr. Sorola prompted, Ryan realizing what he was doing as he asked it, and he found himself giving Gavin a grin.
“Because in electrically charged magnetic fields, positive and negative fields, when placed together, will attract, as the fields are attempting to reach a stable point. Two positive or two negative fields will only cause repulsion, as the fields cannot achieve stability together.”
“See!” Mr. Sorola gestured to the class, “It’s not hard, guys! Use his explanation if mine doesn’t work for you, because it’s just as accurate!”
Gavin’s smile was beaming with pride, and Ryan felt the same pride in himself. So much had changed since that moment in this classroom so many months before. When he felt compelled to accept the offer of tutoring from someone he thought was his polar opposite.
But, they had more in common than he ever realized, and, in this situation, were the magnets, opposite in charge, Ryan so negative about the world around him, and Gavin always positive no matter what.
They had been pulled together from the start, an attraction they didn’t understand. But they knew now. They absolutely knew now.
Alone, they were left searching for something to make them forget the past. Together, they found that, and so much more.
