[His eyes go wide at the sight of it, and he could swear that his fingertips actually start to itch. Just a crappy plastic lighter, nothing he could use for any length of time, but the point isn't really that he wants to burn anything here. It's just that if he needed to, he'd be helpless.]
You and your hidden fucking depths. [He bites his lip to stifle a laugh, and he's actually reaching for it before he realizes two things: he's going straight for an area very close to Ryan's crotch in (semi-)public, and his hand would never make it that close anyway.
Goddamn Petre.
Halfway through the gesture, he just holds his hand out palm-up, eyes dancing back and forth to make sure no one will see it. Ryan's probably never had to do a subtle exchange of goods before, but they can make this work, as long as it's Ryan who initiates the contact and not him.]
I thought you'd like it. They don't check your pockets, right?
[Speaking of, this is exactly why he'd put his hands in his pockets before. He has foresight, sometimes.
He's not sure exactly how to work this, but he takes the lighter into his palm and pulls it from his pocket- it's easy to conceal with his broad palm, fortunately, and he casually presses it into John's like it's a totally normal gesture. That's how the guys in spy movies do it, right?
He wishes he had a trenchcoat. That'd look kind of cool.]
[His hand jerks away fast and hard at the contact, almost fast enough to drop the lighter, but he just manages to keep his grip on it and tuck it into his pocket. So that's what it's like when someone touches him, huh? Some guy, anyway. The immediate reaction on his face is anger, followed by the guilt that flared up earlier finally touching his features.]
[Genius, huh? He grins widely- but that dissipates when John's hand jerks abruptly away from his own, and for a moment Ryan's just staring at him in confusion. There's a touch of something hurt there, too, but the guilt on John's face lends some extra truth to his words, and that helps it soften.]
[Of course he's hurt. Of course, it's impossible not to take personally. The natural assumption is that he's gone back to twitching away from guys at the slightest hint of interest on their part, never mind what happened between them.]
Nothing. I'm just jumpy. The quiet gets to me.
[He's pointedly looking away, returning his attention back to the pushcart loaded with books and shelving another.]
No hard feelings about not telling you, right? It would've leaked out to someone, and I had to get away.
You don't get it. You probably like quiet 'cause you almost never have it. But it's - heavy after awhile.
[Maybe a byproduct of growing up in a house with so much shouting, then living in the very heart of a bustling city with no walls around him. Who can say? It's just unnatural to him, no sound at all.
Still not enough to excuse what he did, but he's banking on it as a somewhat irrational reason.]
Not like I can send you silence to show you. Just trust me on that one.
[There's more concession in his tone there, still not completely convinced but willing enough to accept it. This really isn't the kind of space where a guy like John belongs, much as Ryan happens to be at home in it.]
[And of course Ryan will come to visit him, taking time he could actually be using to study. Which is actually important to him. He probably never considered not doing it when he heard about the punishment.
His lips twitch a little, but it's hard to tell if he's about to smile or frown. If only that could feel like a true, solid thing to him, his life would be so much easier. If only he wanted true and solid.
Which brings him back to the question.]
I figured the first one'd be why I took him in the first place. He only took the fall for it, y'know, the planning was all me.
[--right. He remembers the talk they had before they kissed- are you jealous- and it should have been obvious that was what John meant. Would have been, if he were thinking about it that way instead of just relieved John didn't get a punishment that'd keep them from talking.]
You thought I'd be upset you didn't take me? It wouldn't have worked, you already said so.
[He shrugs one shoulder. It's true, he'd have refused or accidentally leaked it by worrying too much.]
You probably should've taken Harry if you were sneaking off with anybody, but...
[This time the pause is because he can't figure out how to put what he means into words. It was a bad idea, Petre in general is a bad idea, but he's had time to have those thoughts already- and time to remember John's admission of kissing him. The things he'd picked up then. You didn't see him.]
But I remember when you talked about what happened with him. I guess I'm not really surprised you're not keeping away from him more.
[And there's the flash of jealousy, of worry. It'd been too late to tell John not to get wrapped up in things and to listen to his own warnings, hadn't it.]
[He sighs out loud, even that sound rippling through the stony silence of the library.]
It just came up. He wanted to see the places where I used to hang out, I said I'd get us away during the next field trip, he said why wait. Just - fuck, I just wanted to show him what he was dealing with. What I dealt with. I'm not some stupid kid who's gonna fall for anything.
[Except that's a lie, too. He really took Petre because in his own way, Petre's been right all this time - aside from his complete sociopathy, they're not that different. No one else could've enjoyed the night, enhanced it, the way Petre did. It was genuine fun until John pushed things -
- no. Until Petre pushed things too far. He won't be accepting that blame any more than he'll be giving in.]
[The question comes after a short silence. He doesn't really have anything to say about Petre that he hasn't said before, and there's no use in repeating them-- John knows his feelings, his concerns. Now he just wants to hear about what actually happened.]
If I told you about half the shit we did, we'd both get full room lockdown for the rest of our lives. It was a blast.
[But there's no way to tell Ryan that Petre made the bartenders forget both their ages and their tabs, that he got them out of the fights John started with a few casual words and mental nudges, that they made fools of people and reveled in their superiority. It's nothing he would understand.]
Just blowing off steam. I needed it. Nothing that big for the rest of this year, though, I won't luck out with someone taking the fall that way again.
Is that gonna be enough to hold you over for the rest of the year?
[The amusement in his tone says he's not so sure it will be. There'll be some kind of trouble later, he's sure, if not something as big as an impromptu trip.]
Because I'm not sure they'd buy it if I tried to cover for you.
[The fondness in Ryan's smile always leaves him with a twisting ambivalence in his gut - aware that he's probably well on the road to hurting the living shit out of someone, but not ready to give up what they have to offer. Some part of him does want to be a decent person, if only it'd speak up more loudly.]
You don't have to do anything.
[That's cold, colder than he intended, and his inability to come up with any way to soften it just leads him to push the cart further down and grab another armful of books. Not a pretty picture, the whole scene.]
[The coldness in it gives him pause, unable to work out just what he'd done wrong--
(what happened, was it something I said-)
-and without any clue what the reason for it was, Ryan has no idea how to respond to that, either. There's confusion and hurt in his own thoughts, and he doesn't follow John down the row of books, left standing there staring after him.]
[John looks down at the book he's holding, then drops his arm and sighs.]
No. No, okay, it wasn't anything - just forget it. [And his gaze moves to the clock, once again blaming his environment for everything.] Fifteen minutes left on this shift. Thank god.
[It wasn't alright, the thought was nothing but acquiescence, but what else could he do? Start an argument in here, right before John was supposed to get out? That had been something, and Ryan is obviously reluctant to let it go despite his response.]
[He looks up, but it's a slow, rolling movement of his head, as though it weighs a ton.]
No.
[Yes. Maybe. But mostly no.]
Ryan - [He's got no end for that thought, but the rest trickles out without him intending it:] (I don't want to hurt you either, but you're gonna let me if you're not careful.)
What kinda shit are you meaning here? [He looks at Ryan more directly, almost challengingly. Time to get this on the table.] What do you actually expect to happen with me?
[Too hard this time. He puts his books down, turns to face Ryan even though that look makes him want to shy away even more than the fond smile.]
You know I liked what we did. You know I wanna be friends. Nothing past that is on offer here.
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You and your hidden fucking depths. [He bites his lip to stifle a laugh, and he's actually reaching for it before he realizes two things: he's going straight for an area very close to Ryan's crotch in (semi-)public, and his hand would never make it that close anyway.
Goddamn Petre.
Halfway through the gesture, he just holds his hand out palm-up, eyes dancing back and forth to make sure no one will see it. Ryan's probably never had to do a subtle exchange of goods before, but they can make this work, as long as it's Ryan who initiates the contact and not him.]
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[Speaking of, this is exactly why he'd put his hands in his pockets before. He has foresight, sometimes.
He's not sure exactly how to work this, but he takes the lighter into his palm and pulls it from his pocket- it's easy to conceal with his broad palm, fortunately, and he casually presses it into John's like it's a totally normal gesture. That's how the guys in spy movies do it, right?
He wishes he had a trenchcoat. That'd look kind of cool.]
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[His hand jerks away fast and hard at the contact, almost fast enough to drop the lighter, but he just manages to keep his grip on it and tuck it into his pocket. So that's what it's like when someone touches him, huh? Some guy, anyway. The immediate reaction on his face is anger, followed by the guilt that flared up earlier finally touching his features.]
I. Literally didn't mean to do that.
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...what was that, then?
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Nothing. I'm just jumpy. The quiet gets to me.
[He's pointedly looking away, returning his attention back to the pushcart loaded with books and shelving another.]
No hard feelings about not telling you, right? It would've leaked out to someone, and I had to get away.
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...no hard feelings. I know I'm not really the best at keeping secrets.
[He shrugs slightly, hand slipping back into his pocket.]
Hopefully that helps you out a bit, though. Must be pretty damn jumpy if stuff you're expecting to happen gets to you like that.
[He doesn't buy it, his tone makes that obvious, but he's going along with it rather than just confronting John over whatever the hell this is.]
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[Maybe a byproduct of growing up in a house with so much shouting, then living in the very heart of a bustling city with no walls around him. Who can say? It's just unnatural to him, no sound at all.
Still not enough to excuse what he did, but he's banking on it as a somewhat irrational reason.]
Not like I can send you silence to show you. Just trust me on that one.
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[There's more concession in his tone there, still not completely convinced but willing enough to accept it. This really isn't the kind of space where a guy like John belongs, much as Ryan happens to be at home in it.]
I'll take your word for it.
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[After a few more shelved books, he glances sidelong at Ryan.]
Go ahead and ask.
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[Ryan flashes him a lopsided grin at that. You're a bad influence, John.]
What am I supposed to ask about? How it went? What happened?
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His lips twitch a little, but it's hard to tell if he's about to smile or frown. If only that could feel like a true, solid thing to him, his life would be so much easier. If only he wanted true and solid.
Which brings him back to the question.]
I figured the first one'd be why I took him in the first place. He only took the fall for it, y'know, the planning was all me.
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You thought I'd be upset you didn't take me? It wouldn't have worked, you already said so.
[He shrugs one shoulder. It's true, he'd have refused or accidentally leaked it by worrying too much.]
You probably should've taken Harry if you were sneaking off with anybody, but...
[This time the pause is because he can't figure out how to put what he means into words. It was a bad idea, Petre in general is a bad idea, but he's had time to have those thoughts already- and time to remember John's admission of kissing him. The things he'd picked up then. You didn't see him.]
But I remember when you talked about what happened with him. I guess I'm not really surprised you're not keeping away from him more.
[And there's the flash of jealousy, of worry. It'd been too late to tell John not to get wrapped up in things and to listen to his own warnings, hadn't it.]
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[He sighs out loud, even that sound rippling through the stony silence of the library.]
It just came up. He wanted to see the places where I used to hang out, I said I'd get us away during the next field trip, he said why wait. Just - fuck, I just wanted to show him what he was dealing with. What I dealt with. I'm not some stupid kid who's gonna fall for anything.
[Except that's a lie, too. He really took Petre because in his own way, Petre's been right all this time - aside from his complete sociopathy, they're not that different. No one else could've enjoyed the night, enhanced it, the way Petre did. It was genuine fun until John pushed things -
- no. Until Petre pushed things too far. He won't be accepting that blame any more than he'll be giving in.]
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[The question comes after a short silence. He doesn't really have anything to say about Petre that he hasn't said before, and there's no use in repeating them-- John knows his feelings, his concerns. Now he just wants to hear about what actually happened.]
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If I told you about half the shit we did, we'd both get full room lockdown for the rest of our lives. It was a blast.
[But there's no way to tell Ryan that Petre made the bartenders forget both their ages and their tabs, that he got them out of the fights John started with a few casual words and mental nudges, that they made fools of people and reveled in their superiority. It's nothing he would understand.]
Just blowing off steam. I needed it. Nothing that big for the rest of this year, though, I won't luck out with someone taking the fall that way again.
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[The amusement in his tone says he's not so sure it will be. There'll be some kind of trouble later, he's sure, if not something as big as an impromptu trip.]
Because I'm not sure they'd buy it if I tried to cover for you.
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[There's a softer smile, more amused than wicked.]
I just said nothing that big. And not until this is done, at least. Don't need to start layering punishments.
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[His own smile's fond, and just as amused.]
I'd get caught way too fast.
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You don't have to do anything.
[That's cold, colder than he intended, and his inability to come up with any way to soften it just leads him to push the cart further down and grab another armful of books. Not a pretty picture, the whole scene.]
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[The coldness in it gives him pause, unable to work out just what he'd done wrong--
(what happened, was it something I said-)
-and without any clue what the reason for it was, Ryan has no idea how to respond to that, either. There's confusion and hurt in his own thoughts, and he doesn't follow John down the row of books, left standing there staring after him.]
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No. No, okay, it wasn't anything - just forget it. [And his gaze moves to the clock, once again blaming his environment for everything.] Fifteen minutes left on this shift. Thank god.
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[It wasn't alright, the thought was nothing but acquiescence, but what else could he do? Start an argument in here, right before John was supposed to get out? That had been something, and Ryan is obviously reluctant to let it go despite his response.]
D'you want me to leave you alone?
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No.
[Yes. Maybe. But mostly no.]
Ryan - [He's got no end for that thought, but the rest trickles out without him intending it:] (I don't want to hurt you either, but you're gonna let me if you're not careful.)
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[There's that earnest look again. If that's seriously the problem, it's not one Ryan's going to accept.]
If I get hurt I'm not going to just be instantly done with you or something. Things heal up if you work on them.
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[Too hard this time. He puts his books down, turns to face Ryan even though that look makes him want to shy away even more than the fond smile.]
You know I liked what we did. You know I wanna be friends. Nothing past that is on offer here.
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