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His demeanor is both soothing and infuriating. Nothing Rian says to him will deter him from the course of action he has chosen. He won’t deviate. Not even for Rian.
Rian sits there, breathing heavily and glaring at his brother through his sobs, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. He knows it is futile to argue with Cy in the first place. Cyril always made the final call on important decisions.
Rian fucking knows that. He does, but this time he refuses to accept it.
He tries to reason with Cyril anyway. “I'm scared for you every day. I'm worried all the time. Please, Cyril. Please, I'm begging you ––”
Just then, Ty interrupts them, coming out of the bathroom, half-dressed, a towel draped over his shoulders, black sweats hanging low on his hips, revealing the top elastic waistband of his white boxer briefs.
Rian’s brain is so fried from all the angsty feelings he has for this man and all his frustration with his brother, that for a moment he stares at Ty, like he’s forgotten he’s in the middle of an argument with his brother, randomly thinking that Ty always runs hot. Rian is ready to roll in sherpa blankets and Ty is just...Ugh.
Why is this man so distracting? Fucking infuriatingly so!
“Rian, are you alright?” Ty rushes to them. He looks hesitant to involve himself in the ongoing argument but still appears to be very much concerned.
Cyril squeezes Rian’s hand, bringing him out of his daze. “You okay, Ri?”
Rian gives Cyril one last imploring look, but his brother only shakes his head. He kisses Ri’s knuckles again. “Not long now,” he murmurs, pacifying him again like a child.
What does that even mean?
Perhaps he knows Rian is onto him, so he hastily adds, “Soon. I promise. This time, I really do.”
Rian opens his mouth to protest, but then Ty steps forward, placing his hand on his shoulder. The touch is light and hesitant. His thumb gently rubs along his collarbone. Rian takes a deep calming breath, focusing on the softness of the caress.
Ty seems lost for words, but his intention to comfort Rian is clear. He is trying, but it’s not enough. Rian needs more.
Hold me. Hold me. Hold me.
Ty doesn’t. He hasn’t pulled away, but will he ever give Rian what he longs for?
Does Ty even want to hold him?
Is Rian finally losing his mind?
Have they been going on countless date-like outings, getting to know each other better for weeks, or has Ty been hanging out with him like afriend? Killing time.
Are they just fuckingfriends?
Is this all they will ever be?
I want…I need more. I want everything.
Eventually, it becomes too much. Rian gently shrugs them both off squirming away from them. He grabs his jacket and goes out into the winter morning without saying anything else.
Walking through the snowy streets, tucking his bare hands in the pockets of his worn winter jacket, he spends the morning thinking about the previous night when Ty had fallen asleep on the couch next to him.
His hands are freezing, and his socks are wet, soaked from dragging his feet through the snowy slush. What he wouldn’t give to feel Ty’s body pressed to his again. Rian knows he wants to share his warmth and feel Ty’s breath on his skin always.
Ri’s only had this little moment, this stolen snippet of time, and it is more than enough to completely burn through his stupid reasons to stay away from Ty.
Later, Rian regrets wasting all those precious hours, walking the streets. By the time he makes it back home, calm enough to talk, Cy and Ty are already on their way out. They hardly have a moment to say goodbye. Cyril runs in and out of the apartment dragging their bags up and down the stairs. His mood is upbeat as always. He’s acting like they're going on vacation and not back to Afghanistan.
For a moment, it’s just them. Rian and Tayida.
Ty never takes his eyes away from Rian.
He reaches for Rian and takes his hand.
