[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.
It doesn't have to be anything past that. Being friends still means not just breaking things off soon as anything happens.
[That comes out more defensive than he meant, but it's the only way he can respond to John's tone. Nothing past that. Fine, whatever, so long as he knows where John stands on this. On them.]
If all you want is some kind of friends-with-benefits thing, okay, but I'm here because I like you. Alright? All I expect to happen is to not be the only one putting any effort in.
[His shoulders, held rigid through that entire mental speech, finally relax a little. Ryan sounds more angry than hurt, and more angry that John was making assumptions than anything. It's a good place for him to be; it's far more likely to be genuine, rather than a cover for disappointment about what he'd thought would happen going up in smoke.]
Alright. [He nods slowly, breaking eye contact. Basically nodding down at the floor.] Alright, just - as long as you know that. I don't need protecting, I don't need saving, I don't need anything from you. Just do what you wanna do, and I'll do what I wanna do, and sometimes it'll be together. It's worked so far, should keep working now.
[That's all he wanted, right? For John to be willing to stick around, to stay friends after what they'd done and maybe repeat that. It's all he figured he could ask for.
And there's still an edge of disappointment despite that, one he's trying hard to bury. After hearing John say there's nothing he needs from him Ryan's quickly realizing that's something he wanted, too; to be needed in some way, to be important.
(I don't know what I expected) slips out of his thoughts, genuine confusion mixed into that frustration. It should be enough for him.]
[For some ridiculous reason, he expected this could take what's probably a normal path. That's what he expected. But he chose probably the second-worst person in the school for normal.
Suddenly, he steps closer to Ryan, starts to reach out for him again - and his hand recoils from Ryan's upper arm before he can make contact. Fuck, what was he thinking? He doesn't offer comforting touches anyway, and he knew damn well he couldn't now. Where did that even come from?
And now there's another apparently spastic movement he has to explain away. Or ignore away, maybe it'll work this time. This one was obviously so unintentional and violent, though, that it's bound to raise more questions rather than less.]
... don't expect anything. Don't ever expect anything from anyone. You're smarter than that.
[Now John doesn't even want to touch him? He wants to read it as unintentional, but after what had ended up feeling more like a rejection than anything, it's too easy to see his hand jerk away and assume he'd thought better of the gesture.
He could at least be less obvious, fuck.]
If you're that against letting anything happen again you could just say so.
[Okay, time to weigh pros and cons. On one side, Ryan is sure to make this 100 times worse if he finds out what's really happened. On the other hand, he's just as sure to keep misreading it and walk away with a much deeper wound than John could have intended if there's no explanation.
Can he even warn Ryan against Petre again when he's been flying so recklessly around his web since the first warning? Will that work? Fuck it, he'll try.]
Put your hand out. Palm up. Like you're waving, but keep it still.
[He stares for a moment, unsure just what John's getting at- but eventually he nods, holds his hand up as he'd been told.]
...what for? You're not making any sense here, John.
[One moment he's insisting there's not going to be anything between them, pulling away from him, and now... whatever the hell this is? Ryan absolutely isn't following.]
[He holds his own hand up, tries to press his palm against Ryan's - and it slides off to one side just as they're close enough to feel the heat from one another's skin, like their hands are magnets with the same poles facing outward.
He does it again, same result. With his other hand, the same thing. It's obvious from his expression and the nature of the movements that this is out of his control.]
[He watches it happen a couple times in disbelief before he tries to touch John's hand himself, with the same result-- and lets his own drop back to his side.]
John, what's going on- is this some weird part of the punishment? They wouldn't--
[No, fuck that, he's not even listening to that order. This might be the only time John gets to see him well and truly pissed, the anger practically rolling off of him like waves of mental heat-- there's a line and this goes so far over it he can't let it go. Not when it's John, not when it's in between him and what he wants.]
No you're not. I am dealing with this. Don't go near it, Ryan.
[He moves closer, which only means he has to crane his neck up ridiculously to maintain his hard look, but it's a natural dominant movement. Even when he's talking to someone so huge.]
This is because I joked about maybe liking Harry more than him. That's it. That's how little it took to set him off. If he finds out what we did? You're not running headfirst into that shitstorm.
I'm not gonna tell him, John, I can keep that quiet--
[He's sure the anger could drown out any accidental thoughts. Keep him focused. The problem is convincing John of that... and he's getting the feeling that's not likely to happen.
[John finally relaxes at that, because although he was unwilling to accept other, more grandiose promises from Ryan, this is a simple one. Just stay out of business that isn't his. It wasn't even what they did that set it off, so he's got no reason to become involved.
(Caring? What's caring?)]
I wouldn't just start acting like you were contagious if I thought what we did was a mistake. I - we can talk about things. You're one of the only people I can talk to about things.
[It's his turn to let just a flicker of hurt show.]
[He's sorry. Really, genuinely sorry. John almost wants to kiss him for that - in the library, outside of their extra-curricular activities, he just wants to get up on tiptoe and kiss him because John got into a sulk and Ryan is sorry for causing it rather than scathing, amused or dismissive. That's a shockingly rare event in his life.
But of course, he can't. And it's almost funny to him, how Petre is heading off what he'd perceive as a threat, but he'd never guess who it actually is. But it's mostly infuriating.]
Forget it. Must've looked weird as hell, huh. [John grins, one of his quieter, more intimate grins, and starts shelving again.] But no, it was - good. I wouldn't wanna stop that.
[He laughs, a bit unsteadily.] It was really fucking good.
[That grin gets one in response, pleased and relieved. It was good, he doesn't want to stop-- that soothes the lingering worry he's had since he last saw John, and while he's still incredibly pissed with Petre... it can wait. He can set that aside.]
I don't want to stop either.
[The thought comes with an image, sent mostly intentionally, bleeding through with how badly he wants it: himself moving in and leaning down to kiss John again, arms wrapped around him. An obvious edge of frustration is there too, though, and it's finished with-]
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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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[That comes out more defensive than he meant, but it's the only way he can respond to John's tone. Nothing past that. Fine, whatever, so long as he knows where John stands on this. On them.]
If all you want is some kind of friends-with-benefits thing, okay, but I'm here because I like you. Alright? All I expect to happen is to not be the only one putting any effort in.
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Alright. [He nods slowly, breaking eye contact. Basically nodding down at the floor.] Alright, just - as long as you know that. I don't need protecting, I don't need saving, I don't need anything from you. Just do what you wanna do, and I'll do what I wanna do, and sometimes it'll be together. It's worked so far, should keep working now.
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[That's all he wanted, right? For John to be willing to stick around, to stay friends after what they'd done and maybe repeat that. It's all he figured he could ask for.
And there's still an edge of disappointment despite that, one he's trying hard to bury. After hearing John say there's nothing he needs from him Ryan's quickly realizing that's something he wanted, too; to be needed in some way, to be important.
(I don't know what I expected) slips out of his thoughts, genuine confusion mixed into that frustration. It should be enough for him.]
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Suddenly, he steps closer to Ryan, starts to reach out for him again - and his hand recoils from Ryan's upper arm before he can make contact. Fuck, what was he thinking? He doesn't offer comforting touches anyway, and he knew damn well he couldn't now. Where did that even come from?
And now there's another apparently spastic movement he has to explain away. Or ignore away, maybe it'll work this time. This one was obviously so unintentional and violent, though, that it's bound to raise more questions rather than less.]
... don't expect anything. Don't ever expect anything from anyone. You're smarter than that.
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[Now John doesn't even want to touch him? He wants to read it as unintentional, but after what had ended up feeling more like a rejection than anything, it's too easy to see his hand jerk away and assume he'd thought better of the gesture.
He could at least be less obvious, fuck.]
If you're that against letting anything happen again you could just say so.
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[Okay, time to weigh pros and cons. On one side, Ryan is sure to make this 100 times worse if he finds out what's really happened. On the other hand, he's just as sure to keep misreading it and walk away with a much deeper wound than John could have intended if there's no explanation.
Can he even warn Ryan against Petre again when he's been flying so recklessly around his web since the first warning? Will that work? Fuck it, he'll try.]
Put your hand out. Palm up. Like you're waving, but keep it still.
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...what for? You're not making any sense here, John.
[One moment he's insisting there's not going to be anything between them, pulling away from him, and now... whatever the hell this is? Ryan absolutely isn't following.]
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He does it again, same result. With his other hand, the same thing. It's obvious from his expression and the nature of the movements that this is out of his control.]
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[He watches it happen a couple times in disbelief before he tries to touch John's hand himself, with the same result-- and lets his own drop back to his side.]
John, what's going on- is this some weird part of the punishment? They wouldn't--
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[He sets his jaw furiously, giving Ryan a hard look.]
And you're not doing anything about it. I'll deal with this.
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[No, fuck that, he's not even listening to that order. This might be the only time John gets to see him well and truly pissed, the anger practically rolling off of him like waves of mental heat-- there's a line and this goes so far over it he can't let it go. Not when it's John, not when it's in between him and what he wants.]
I'm gonna talk to him.
[Flat, decisive.]
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[He moves closer, which only means he has to crane his neck up ridiculously to maintain his hard look, but it's a natural dominant movement. Even when he's talking to someone so huge.]
This is because I joked about maybe liking Harry more than him. That's it. That's how little it took to set him off. If he finds out what we did? You're not running headfirst into that shitstorm.
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[He's sure the anger could drown out any accidental thoughts. Keep him focused. The problem is convincing John of that... and he's getting the feeling that's not likely to happen.
So he breathes out, slowly, takes a step back.]
...fine. Fine, I won't.
[He will.]
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[For someone who doesn't want protecting, he's sure doing a lot of it himself right now.]
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...alright, I promise. I won't do it.
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(Caring? What's caring?)]
I wouldn't just start acting like you were contagious if I thought what we did was a mistake. I - we can talk about things. You're one of the only people I can talk to about things.
[It's his turn to let just a flicker of hurt show.]
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-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... I just- I overreacted, I guess.
[Ryan rubs at the back of his neck, not quite looking at him.]
Wasn't sure where we stood after- what we did, and then with that happening--
I'm sorry, John.
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But of course, he can't. And it's almost funny to him, how Petre is heading off what he'd perceive as a threat, but he'd never guess who it actually is. But it's mostly infuriating.]
Forget it. Must've looked weird as hell, huh. [John grins, one of his quieter, more intimate grins, and starts shelving again.] But no, it was - good. I wouldn't wanna stop that.
[He laughs, a bit unsteadily.] It was really fucking good.
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I don't want to stop either.
[The thought comes with an image, sent mostly intentionally, bleeding through with how badly he wants it: himself moving in and leaning down to kiss John again, arms wrapped around him. An obvious edge of frustration is there too, though, and it's finished with-]
(this is so unfair)
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