10 Things You Hate About Ryland Grace
Pairing: Ryland Grace x reader
Summary: 10 Things You Hate About Ryland Grace.
Warning(s): smut a tiny bit, but not really tbh. Flasbacks. sexual tension kind of? fear of death if you think too much about it.
authors note: This is heavily inspired by this fic, again a Star Trek fic writer I loved reading works by. This is also inspired of course by the poem from 10 Things I Hate About You, but I scrambled some of it up and made it my own. because creative freedom.
also go easy on me on the errors if there are any, I'll fix them if I notice them slowly. I proofread this so many times I'm going insane.
You can also find this fic on my ao3 here, and this is a link to my masterlist.
The way he talks to you and the way he cuts his hair
When you woke up onboard the Hail Mary, it was of course no surprise to you. You remembered you were the pilot, who had also volunteered to be launched into space, and miraculously tested positive for the coma resistant gene. What was a surprise to you, was the fact that everyone else around you was dead, except for Ryland Grace.
You had woken up mere days before him. You were perplexed, you had no idea who anyone was, yet alone Ryland Grace. However, when you sifted through his labeled bag of belongings, you remembered that you didn’t like him at all. You weren’t exactly sure of why yet, but you had a feeling you just didn’t like him, just based on his belongings alone.
The stupid science pun shirts, and his polaroid picture framing his awkwardness into the seams, it was a sort of performance or act, the awkward–nerdy–puppydog thing that you could tell he probably gave off constantly, from your memory. Then you were surprised Ryland Grace was even there with you at all, had the feelings been mutual?
Sure it could’ve worked on anyone. But not you. At least from what you remembered.
When Ryland woke up, you wondered if you’d be proven wrong. But when he woke, you just couldn’t stand him.
You were typing on one of the onboard computers, trying your best to make sure everything was functioning well enough. Sure you could do it by hand, but why open panels, and unscrew things, when you could check on a computer. Also, conveniently, you still don’t remember where everything on the ship is yet.
Ryland was sitting across from you, his ridiculously long hair swung over his shoulders. He was eating whatever coma slurry that the robot thing had to offer. He was wearing one of the shirts from his belongings bag, while his coma jumpsuit was tied around his waist.
“So everything is functioning well in the pilots deck, I want to check some fuel tanks soon. I just don’t remember where everything is yet.” You tried cooperative talk. “What do you know?” You asked.
“I don’t remember anything.” He whispered.
He was staring out of the window into the stars, clearly shocked. You scoffed at the idea, if you didn’t like Ryland back on earth, then why the hell were you trapped inside of a metal cylinder with him?
“I remember you. If that counts for anything.”
“Do you remember how I got here?” He asked.
“No.” It came out a little too harshly.
“You’re not going to tell me anything huh? What can you tell me?!”
“I can tell you I’m the pilot, I can tell you that I wanted to be onboard, but that’s about it. I can’t even tell you why on earth you wear those stupid science shirts.”
“I’m guessing you don’t like me very much.” Ryland mused. “I’m guessing you remember that you don’t like me very much.”
His tone spoke for itself, as if he was saying, why didn’t you just say that then?
“If it makes you feel any better I’m trying to.”
He stood up, and reached for the pair of clippers and hair cutting scissors he stole from the robot previously. You had tried to give him some distance, after helping him out of the comma pod. But, he just kept coming to you for answers, and hey, you had to at least try to work together in order to figure out why you’re on an interstellar ship. But from the tone he was talking to you in, you had a feeling that he didn’t like you very much either.
You scoffed. “If it was up to me you’d still be back on earth, if my coma slushed brain is correct, then I’d rather be up here alone than with you.”
“I think once I get my memory back, I might be thinking the same thing.” Ryland grumbled. “But right now, I’m thinking you’re just looking for someone to hate.”
“And why do you think that?” You asked.
“Because it’s more convenient than admitting you’re not as courageous as you thought.”
The words hit you harder than expected. You zone out as you remembered.
You suddenly remembered you had been trained to fly all kinds of jets, you studied physics for years, and you remembered desperately wanting to explore space because it meant going farther than anyone had gone before. The idea excited you. And you hated that Ryland was suggesting an idea that could actually be true: the idea that now that you were out there in the vastness of space you were horrified and you were too much of a coward to blame yourself for being in this situation.
Once you looked back at your computer, the tension high in the air, you heard the sound of the clippers clipping his facial hair. You lifted your head to see his hair falling to the ground.
“Go cut your hair in the lavatory. You’re getting hair everywhere.”
Of course, Ryland did not move an inch.
The way he drives your car and the way he stares
When Ryland disappears you’re unsure why. You just retrieved the message from the Blip-A and you were floating in the lab. You could sit and wait for him, but you decided to go retrieve him. You were the pilot afterall not the scientist, and you hated that he was the one making all the discoveries.
You pushed yourself to drift up into the dormitory, checking there first, before heading to the pilot’s deck. You swiveled under ropes, and floated into the dormitory, when he wasn’t there, you grumbled.
“Ryland! Do you have to take forever?”
Just as you floated toward the pilots deck, you felt a shift, you felt the ship moving, spinning, then you heard the alarm.
You quickly confirmed your position as you looked up at the centrifuge panel that was activated, and you felt yourself falling, and you knew you’d be landing directly onto the floor of the hallway leading to the lab. You swore to god you were going to kill Ryland Grace, if you didn’t hate him before, you most certainly hated him now.
As you felt yourself falling you closed your eyes and a memory appeared in your head. A memory of of course you and Ryland, one with a different tone:
When you hit your head, it’s when you're reaching for a knob on the top of the pilot’s deck during the building of the ship. You leaned a little too forward and because your restraints weren’t on, you swung forward, summersaulting onto half built the panel in front of you. Ryland was the one to witness you, and took you to med-bay, after laughing his annoying ass off.
You grumbled as you held an icepack to your head, waiting for the doctor on shift to clear you for work, sitting next to Ryland while he stared at you like a wounded puppy. You rolled your eyes at the mere look of him.
“Are you serious right now?” You asked.
Ryland’s face turned into confusion.
“What? I’m just– observing,” Ryland said, he stood up to pace, awkwardly tucking his hands into his pockets, his stupid hair falling perfectly onto his stupid face, his stupid glasses falling below his stupid chin. “I’m just making sure your head injury doesn’t impact our ability to launch.”
“I mean seriously, does that really work?” You asked.
“Does what really work?” He asked, crossing his arms.
“You know? The act? The whole being awkward, yet adorable thing, does that really work? Because it sure as hell is not working for me right now. Has never worked really.”
“Have you ever considered it’s not an act?” He asked.
“Let me guess, you grew up feeling like you couldn’t talk about your interests so you go quiet and don’t speak unless spoken to.”
“Is that how you grew up?” Ryland countered, placing his glasses back on his face.
“Why did you volunteer?” Ryland asked.
You gave him an annoyed look.
“You have asked me this before already, what do you really want?”
“I want to know the reason why you’re so stubborn all the time, why you work all night on that ship when we have 20 engineers working on it already — which is the reason you hit your head tonight!”
The doctors stopped their pacing, turning momentarily to look at you and Ryland. You turned to speak to him directly.
“How can you be so observant when I refuse to interact with you?” You asked.
Ryland just looked at you expectantly. Your cue to answer his questions.
“Well first, stubbornness is inherited, and secondly, I like flying things–”
“Why are you giving up your life for this?” He asked.
His eyes scanned your face, and you tried your best to avoid his gaze.
“Because I tested positive for the gene. Could you be any less persistent?”
“Why are you going? Why not choose to stay?” He asked again.
“Because I have nothing else. Nobody else.” You half screamed, whispered, giving into his prodding.
Ryland stared at you intensely.
And for the first time you considered that you could have him. You could stop pretending you were running away for courageous reasons, but instead say the truth, that you wanted someone, needed someone as much as they needed you. someone to anchor you in place. But it couldn’t be Ryland, could it?
Ryland must’ve sensed your hesitation. Because he got up and as he was walking away, said,
“Right–I uh–I guess I should’ve known the answer.”
You gasped, both at the memory, and at yourself falling, before you felt yourself land in Ryland’s hands. You grimaced. He was holding you bridal style, staring at you just as intensely as he had done in your memory.
You watched him look at you awkwardly, that stupid little way he looks away at everything that makes him flustered. His glass fell below his chin from the impact of catching you.
“You okay? I was looking for you everywhere?” He asked. “Oh also, I activated centrifuge.” He said with a smirk, clearly knowing what he had done.
You couldn’t stand how easily he seemed to get out of his awkwardness around you. Like your skepticisms was right, it was an act he could shrug off easily. Or was it just the effect you had on him?
You jumped out of his arms and poked his chest. Refusing to be vulnerable in front of him ever again. Refusing to believe you had told him you never wanted him, despite your annoyance and dislike of him — feelings that were beginning to lose credibility.
“I hate you so much, I swear to god.”
You stormed off into the direction of the dormitory, and shrugged your feelings to the side.
You had barely slept all night since Rocky came aboard the ship for the first time the day before. You let Ryland deal with his sleeping quarters, he seemed to be getting along much better with Rocky than he was you anyway. But you just couldn’t get to sleep. You had to admit, meeting an alien had changed your whole perspective of life.
You woke up in a rush to talk to Rocky again, you wanted to know everything about how his ship worked. How he flew it in particular. So you grabbed one of the red jumpsuits that scattered along the floor and hurried to pull it over you. And you stumbled into the lab, pulling your arms in the arm holes.
“I swear to god I had the worst sleep ever last night.” You say yawning.
You looked down at your suit, it felt a little baggier than you remembered, but shrugged it off. Maybe you lost weight, hell, maybe you lost height due to the fake gravity. The suit also smelled a little mustier than you had remembered, less like you….guess it was time for you to throw it in the shower again — which is how you and Ryland often washed clothes.
Rocky chirped, and excitedly turned around. It seemed that you and Rocky were alone for the first time since he entered the ship.
“Hi Grace friend!” Rocky chimed, his jazz hands up in excitement.
You giggled and he giggled back. You found yourself admiring your new alien friend, he was so interesting. His language was interesting, his little overalls, everything. You found yourself becoming…shy? You were being the most awkward you had ever been around someone before, if you weren’t too stubborn to admit it…you’d say you were acting a lot like Ryland did around you.
“Hi Rocky. How’d you sleep?”
“Good good good. Grace watch Rocky sleep, now figure out astrophage problem.” Rocky said determined, he scattered around a bit.
You nodded, unsure of where to look. Rocky didn’t have a face.
You stepped closer to his glass ‘enclosure’, and smiled, you put your hands in your pockets as you rocked back and forth on the balls of your feet awkwardly. What’s with the awkwardness all of a sudden? That’s Ryland’s job.
Oh. Maybe you couldn’t read Ryland quiet like you thought you could.
“Why you, and Grace spend time in different parts of ship often, question?”
“Oh, well, we just…don’t get along as much as we’d like.”
“Why you no like Grace, question?” Rocky asked.
Rocky was asking you something nobody, not even Ryland had asked you before. You straightened your back and thought about it.
“I think it’s because I have this feeling that Grace is just…putting on this awkward, nerdy — yet charming — act to get under my skin. To make me open up, then once I do, he’ll leave. Or…I guess sometimes I think he’s hiding the fact that he thinks he’s better than me.” You explained.
You had to admit, now that you were saying it outloud, it sounded ridiculous. Of course you left out the parts where he is obnoxiously attractive, and he knows it, okay maybe he doesn’t know it which makes his act all the while more convincing.
“This happen before, question?” Rocky asked, placing his carapace closer to the xenonite glass.
“Yea, some other guys before Grace.”
“Rocky know Grace, he no think he better.” Rocky said.
He sounded so sure. You were interrupted when you heard footsteps approaching you and Rocky from behind, when you turned around, Ryland was standing there holding a cup of coffee, his glasses below his chin yet again.
“Alright let’s get started-” Ryland stopped himself.
He scanned your body up and down, and you blushed against your better judgement. You refused to be dissected like that by his eyes.
“What? Is there something on my face?” You asked, shyly, but trying to hide it with a tone of annoyance.
“No, you’re just–that’s my jumpsuit.” Ryland explained, a visible blush spreading across his cheeks. “It’s weird to steal clothes from people you don’t like.”
“Just because you’re right about almost everything, does not mean you’re right about whose clothes I’m wearing right now.” You responded.
You waved your hand at him dismissively, there was absolutely no way.
“I would check the name crest if I were you.” Ryland mumbled.
He placed his coffee cup down on the lab table, your grumbled at him,
“‘I would check the name crest if I were you’,” You mocked, childishly, “whatever.”
You sighed, giving into his childishness, your eyes widened as you looked down at the name tag on the jumpsuit you were wearing. It read: Grace. You gasped, and looked up at Ryland frantically.
“Rocky why didn’t you say anything!”
“Rocky did not see!” Rocky countered.
“It sounds like you’re having an argument.” Mary chimed in, with her robotic British accent.
“Shut up Mary!” You and Ryland yelled in unison.
You laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of the situation. You had to preserve your dignity.
“I would never—not from you—I got two hours of sleep last night I—” You stumbled.
“No need to explain, it actually looks…good, on you.” Ryland said, lifting his glasses in front of his eyes, as if getting a better vantage point.
It made you question whether it was intended as a compliment or an insult.
Ryland’s face was flushed, and you hated him, and your face was flushed and you hated yourself.
“You planted this on the floor with the rest of mine, so I’d look like an idiot!” You exclaimed, pointing your finger at him.
“Are you serious?! Why on earth would I do that?!”
“Because, you have to be right about everything, ugh!” You groaned.
You didn’t let Ryland defend himself, just stormed out of the room to change into one of your own jumpsuits.
His absence and the fact that he didn’t call
After a collective near death experience, a failing you had taken upon yourself as the pilot, You had been the one to have the least amount of damage, leaving you alone to move Rocky and Ryland yourself, dragging Ryland and Rocky to their sleeping pods after collecting the predator from Adrian.
You were the one who insisted Ryland take the pilot’s chair as you went to eject the punctured fuel tank, and when you did, he was smashed into the same panel you had hit your head on years previous and Rocky attempted to move Ryland without your help, leaving him a burning mess in your atmosphere.
As you sat in the hallway watching Rocky sleep. You became very aware that you had been alone, for the first time since you woke up. Alone, Without Rocky’s robotic voice and chirpy demeanor, without Ryland’s constant bickering.
You could smell the leftover smell of Rocky burning, and you could smell the burn of flesh from your arm as you remembered your failure.
And you had to admit, despite not entirely loving the way Ryland acted, you missed not being alone, you missed waking up to sounds of working, and yes maybe you missed those stupid science puns and Ryland’s stupid smile — he’d give you even if you were being an asshole — and yes maybe you missed bickering back and forth, his awkward yet witty come backs impressed you more than you’d like to admit.
You were two people who couldn’t stand each other, right?
You wanted to remind yourself that Ryland constantly argued with you about your flying techniques, about how long you should go without sleep. That Ryland had the tendency to psychoanalyze you so much so you thought he could read your mind and that sure as hell pissed you off more than you’d like to admit. You reminded yourself that Ryland was so awkward and nerdy sometimes he was oblivious to what you were feeling and oblivious to the many times you accidentally lingered your eyes on him while he worked.
But as you remember Ryland hooked up to the life support, you dropped that all instantly and cried like you would for a best friend.
As you laid in bed that night, you dreamt of the moment before launch when Ryland had rushed into your room suddenly, and awkwardly:
Ryland stood at your office door — the office Stratt gave you at the launch site weeks before, you had your gear ready in hand and were about to be induced into a coma.
“Ryland, what do you want? I’m about to leave for the launch.”
“Stratt is — I’m going to run—I’m leaving, I’ll call you before you launch.” He spoke way faster than he had ever spoken to you before, as if he was on a timer.
You gave him a confused look.
“Why would you want to call me before I launch?” You asked, turning around to grab your final piece of equipment.
But when you did, Ryland was gone. So you shrugged, and walked down the hall toward the shuttle area that would take you a 20 minute drive away – to the launch.
As you waited in the car on its trip toward the ship that would take you to the Hail Mary, you wondered whether you’d actually like it if Ryland called, why he wanted to call. Why he was so goddamn persistent and why he was so awkward he couldn’t even tell you what he wanted directly half the time anyway.
But when you arrived at the launch site, you waited a total of 30 minutes as you waited for the coma-inducing drugs to be prepared and not a single time did your phone ring. And for the first time you realized you wanted Ryland to call. That maybe Ryland was the only constant you’d had in years.
When you woke up you struggle out of bed. Angry. Angry at the fact that Ryland didn’t call, despite you not realizing you wanted him to, and hated how he ended up on this ship with you when he was supposed to leave.
You grimaced at Armando, who was tending to your wounds on your palms, you shoved him off, the gauze halfway done, placed where you got burned dragging Rocky.
You rushed groggily over to Ryland’s bed, before noticing it was empty. You felt tears of anger falling down your cheeks as you rushed into the lab. When you entered you spotted Ryland looking into a microscope, his arm wrapped in gauze, his head stitched up, his glasses back on his face, he must’ve found where you had placed them. He looked up at you.
Ryland turned around, his unzipped hoodie revealing his Cats the musical shirt. His gloved hands placed whatever science tools he was using down, and his eyes looked at you with tears welling in them, his mouth open agape. Like an idiot.
You rushed over to him and started pounding your fists on his chest in anger.
“You didn’t call!” You sobbed as you hit his chest more. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Rylands arms came up to grab your hands, and he stopped you. His arms shook, and underneath his glasses his eyes scanned you with focus and hesitation.
“What are you talking about?” He asked.
You were being the most vulnerable you had ever been with Ryland and he didn’t remember? That made you sob more than ever again, your face was now buried into his chest, snotting up his shirt. God you hated those stupid shirts.
This was as close you had been to him before. You could smell his sweat, feel the warmth on his chest. You still hated him, just for different reasons now. And you were human, so you couldn’t blame yourself for crumbling into the closest body you could find.
“You said you would call before launch–”
“Why didn’t you?” You asked.
Ryland pulled your face away from his chest, and lifted his hand cautiously, as if he was afraid touching you would make you hate him more, he tilted your chin upward for you to really look at him. You felt your breathing relax and your chest tinge, none of this was performative, his awkwardness was still underneath. You saw it in the way his lip twitched in nervousness.
“I was running away from Stratt, she told me she was going to force me to go onboard, and I wanted to see you before I ran off. But, as I was running past the fences, the doctors, Carl, and everyone really, they tackled me, and induced the coma on the field.” He explained.
You imagined Ryland running across that field you knew well enough since you worked across from it for weeks.
“You couldn’t call.” You sniffled, your crying down to a minimum.
“I couldn’t call even if I wanted to. Even if you wanted me to, which it didn’t seem like you did at the time.”
Ryland dropped your face, and it felt like an insurmountable loss. His hands on you. An unusual thing to feel for someone you hated so much.
Ryland smiled at you genuinely for the first time.
You both slowly backed away from each other, as if remembering who you were, two people who were claiming to not get along. Your gaze followed Ryland as he took his gloves off and sat down beside Rocky who was sleeping on the other side of the xenonite glass recovering.
“Ry?” You were surprised at the nickname slipping out.
“Yea?” He asked his eyes a little wide in surprise too.
Ryland went to clip his glasses to the collar of his shirt.
“You’re much more courageous than you thought. Running away like that.” You crossed your arms, brushing your fingers against your own bare skin.
“Really because I thought it made me a coward.”
A beat. Ryland turned back to Rocky.
“I mean it. You are. Unlike me…I shouldn’t have left the pilot’s seat.” You found yourself saying. “I could’ve gotten us out of there, I spent years training—I—”
“It’s not your fault.” Ryland simply said, catching the change in conversation, addressing the crash.
You leaned your back against the lab table, still watching Ryland watch Rocky.
“Yea well, I was afraid. I even had a different target planned out entirely.”
Ryland turned to you, and you regretted saying anything. Because now you had admitted two things that would make him hate you more: that you’re a coward, and that you could’ve gotten them out unscathed but didn’t.
“Then why didn’t you choose that one?” Ryland asked, clearly now irritated, understandably at your deadly mistake.
You looked down at the floor, then back at Ryland whose eyes were demanding an explanation, something to make up for the fact that you almost killed him and your new alien friend.
“Because it was much more dangerous, I knew it’d get us out of there faster but it would’ve made our collection time slower, and I was afraid you wouldn’t make it in time!”
“We’re all afraid, but we do what we need to for the sake of humanity.” He countered.
“I wasn't going to let you die just to get the ship out of the atmosphere faster. I need you.”
The most truthful yet fear inducing confession you had said out loud.
Ryland opened his mouth to say something, and you watched him close his mouth in response. He just nodded his head, and placed his hand on the xenonite glass.
“Come watch Rocky.” He whispered, his hand motioning for you to join him.
You stepped forward, surrendering, lowering yourself to sit beside him, resting your head on the glass separating you and Rocky, waiting for him to wake up.
That he makes you feel sick
The time you felt nauseous around Ryland, it’s because of the proximity. You had remembered no times in your past with Ryland in which you had touched each other more than a pat on the back. That day was different.
You were standing close together, working on one of the computers at the standing desk in the lab. You were both trying to map the route back to Rocky’s ship.
You were typing on your computer and Ryland was rotating between the whiteboard on your left, and the computer placed on the desk beside you. You and Ryland were surprisingly great at working together, it was all made better by the fact that you were speaking very little and that you were helping Rocky.
For some reason though, you couldn’t relax like usual. You could smell Ryland’s scent, his body odor, and it oddly didn’t put you off.
As he walked behind you to the left, he placed his hand on your lower back. The touch, for the first time making you shiver, sending sparks up your spine.
“Hey, can we pull a better star map onto the screen?” Ryland asked, unaware of the effect he put on you.
“You put the old one up, I made a new copy, let me show you.”
Before you could argue about how you had already checked the computer files three times, he stood behind you. He placed his hands on top of yours on top of the computer mouse and scrolled through the files.
“I told you it’s in this folder.” He said, clicking the mouse with both of your fingers.
You could feel his breath next to your ear, and you could feel how warm he was against your back. His hands on top of yours felt oddly dominating, and it frustrated you that he didn’t just take the mouse from you himself. It didn’t help that you had been feeling insanely touch starved, so your body reacted the way it was intended.
You held your breath, and closed your eyes shut when you felt your ass graze against the front of his jumpsuit. He chuckled, and you assumed it was at your reaction, but it was at the computer.
“I put it in the wrong folder, that’s why you couldn’t find it.” He explained, opening an entirely different folder.
When he pulled back you groaned in frustration.
“You couldn’t have just switched places with me or what?” You asked, clearly flustered.
You wiped the sweat on your forehead with the palm of your hand, suddenly feeling hot. You decided on going to see Rocky instead.
When he lies, when he makes you laugh and when he makes you cry
You had just finished saying goodnight to Rocky after your celebration. You were impressed by Rocky’s party attire, and you were glad to have given him an earth thinking machine. You had stepped away from Ryland and Rocky who were still chatting after your goodnight, you needed a moment to reflect. The ship was set to night mode, so it was dark throughout the ship to mimic earth’s cycle.
You headed toward the illuminated hallway, halfway to the dormitory and where you could see out the windows into the vastness of space. The lights onboard were out to mimic the night cycle, you didn’t feel like sleeping. You were lonely, and scared of what would happen next: death. But you weren’t going to admit it.
You heard footsteps shortly after you leaned your back against the hallway wall.
“You know why you should never trust an atom?” Ryland asked.
Great, another stupid science pun. You turned your head to the left to look at him, away from the window. Away from the stars.
Ryland was stepping out of the darkness toward you into the illuminated part of the hallway. You couldn’t help but inch your eyes down his chest, and his biceps, your loneliness reserve fueling something dangerous inside of you that you had never considered: you were falling for his act or you were…falling for him.
“Come on you know those stupid puns annoy the shit out of me!” You whined.
Rylands eyebrows quirked up as he looked at you expectantly. You sighed, hitting his arm lightly.
“Fine. Why?” You asked, ready to roll your eyes.
“Because they make up everything.” Ryland said proudly.
And this time you laughed, genuinely, like the easiest you had laughed at his puns ever.
“God I hate you.” You chuckled, as your laughter calmed down.
“Everything okay?” He inquired, after a moment of silence.
You sighed, shook your head, and thought, fine, why not.
“I don’t want to die.” You admitted.
A sentence spoken out loud like that made the reality seem much more real. Ryland rubbed the back of his neck in the same way he always did.
“I don’t want to die either.” He responded. He hesitated before saying, “I don’t want you to die.”
“I don’t want you to die either.”
“Why didn’t we talk like this before?” Ryland asks.
“I care about you, you know?” He said. “I just–don’t know how to show it.”
As he spoke the words, you realized Ryland wasn’t putting on an act he was showing you who he was the whole time.
“That doesn’t matter right now,” You responded, you didn’t want to hash it out, or talk for hours, you knew what you wanted. You knew the mistake you needed to make, in order to verify whether you’d be proven wrong or not.
You stepped closer to him, placing your hands on his shoulders, biting your lip.
“Show me how you care.” You spoke, the words hanging in the air with palpable tension.
Ryland grabbed your face softly, his eyes lingering on his, as if he could read your mind. And he probably could. But how could you find out if he was going to keep you, if you didn’t open up somehow.
Ryland was the first to kiss you, and you reacted instantaneously, deepening it, running your hands through his stupidly perfect hair, that you didn’t know you had always wanted to run your hands through until that very moment. He whined, as you trailed your hands over his shoulders, and pulled his body closer to yours.
“Thank god I’m not wearing my glasses.” He gasped, breathing heavily into your mouth, his forehead against yours.
“Shut up.” You moaned, pulling his mouth back down to yours by the shirt. “I need you.”
He kissed you harder and you jumped into his arms, he walked you both toward the dormitory, kissing each other again and again, and sucking on each other 's necks, letting out all the tension you held previously from all the bickering and arguing. It was like up until that very moment you didn’t know this is what you needed most.
Ryland laid you gently on the mattress. Then leaned down to kiss you again, his tongue slipping in between your lips, and you grazed your tongue against his in between pecking at his lips. Focusing heavily on his bottom lip. He pulled back to take a look at you, before slipping his hand under your shirt.
“I need you too.” He said, and began kissing along your jaw. “And I’m going to fuck you like you’re mine.”
Your head rolled back as you moaned his name.
When you woke up, you were resting in Ryland’s biceps on his mattress on the floor. You turned in Ryland’s arms to face him, looking at his sleepy face. You grazed your hand lightly over the bridge of his nose, giggling when you heard him stir in reaction, a realization that this — Ryland and you — wasn’t going to work. You were going to die. You couldn’t have him. And he couldn’t have you even if you were proven wrong.
You wondered how much Rocky had heard, you wondered what Ryland thought of you now that you had given in. There wasn’t much room for talk after crazy, slightly angry, slightly lonely sex, just sleep. The ship was still set to dark mode. You sat up, and looked around the dark ship.
You let the covers fall off of your naked body. Ryland sat up behind you, placing his hands around your bare waist, pulling you closer to his nakedness. He began placing intimate kisses along the back of your shoulder blades, his stubble grazing against your skin in a way that made you shiver. His lips traveled upward to kiss along the side of your neck. You closed your eyes letting yourself for a moment pretending that this was real, that he wouldn’t forget this ever happened, and as he pulled his hand forward to travel inside of your bare thigh, you spoke the truth for the first time:
“You’re going to tell me this didn’t mean anything and then we’re both going to drop Rocky off then die of starvation or whatever method we choose, right?”
And Ryland looked at your back, pulled back from his ministrations. You couldn’t even turn around and look at him.
“This doesn’t mean anything.” He said, deflated, as if he was taking your demand instead of voicing his own mind. “If it doesn’t mean anything to you then it doesn’t mean anything to me.”
And you could tell that you hurt him, that this time, you were the one who was deserving of being hated.
Ryland put one more kiss on the back of your next before you felt him slip himself out of the covers behind you and pull back on his jumpsuit, he walked around you and stormed off to the lab. You had chosen your fear over him.
Mostly, that you don’t hate him at all.
You had been avoiding Ryland for months, on your way to Erid. You had caught Rocky in time, after Ryland discovered that taumoeba eats through xenonite. You and Ryland vowed to take Rocky back to Erid after sending the Beatles on their way. There was nothing back on earth for either of you. And you agreed, if you settled in enough, you might be able to become friends.
You had explained to Rocky that you and Ryland were simply going to be professional, and even through the starvation you managed to keep things pretty simple. But now you were living on Erid in a separate house than Ryland.
Adrian had asked if you and Ryland wanted a house together, and because you weren’t together romantically, or even close to being friends, it made sense to you to get separate houses.
It was your first week living on Erid, and you stood in your kitchen drinking coffee out of a white mug from the ship. You watched the day cycle out of your window, looking out at the water. You wondered what Ryland was doing. You hadn’t spoken in days. Understandably, Ryland and you had been vulnerable together, he had been showing you who he really was all that time and you brushed him off.
You missed so many things about living on the ship, you missed flying the ship, the one thing you were good at and proud of. And worst of all, you felt lonely, you missed Ryland.
You hated that you missed him. You hated yourself for hurting him. But there was no other choice, you were going to die. You groaned in realization.
“We’re not dead.” You gasped, anger shot through you at yourself.
You realized, finally, that the thing you hated most about Ryland, was that you didn’t hate him at all.
You scrambled, determined to get him back, to set this right. You placed your coffee mug down, put on your shoes, your jacket, and grabbed your phone — made by Ryland out of some scraps from the Hail Mary that was only functional for phone calls — and stepped toward the door.
You swung the door open, you didn’t even bother closing it as you ran across the mountain, stumbling and falling, pulling yourself up by your hands ridiculously. The wind blew across your face as you ran faster. You groaned, running towards Ryland’s house as it came into view, you stumbled onto his doorstep, knocking profusely.
When the door opened Ryland was standing in the doorway, his fox cardigan on, his glasses on top of his head as if he’d been working.
“You–you ran here?” Ryland asked, clearly noticing you out of breath.
You nodded, catching your breath.
“Yes, should’ve agreed to share a house.” You mumbled mostly to yourself.
“Did you want to talk? I uh, I’m in the middle of a lesson plan for the new class Rocky wants, but I can make tea–”
Your heart swelled at his willingness, at the fact that he was giving you a chance despite the way you hurt him. His awkward sweetness, never ending, and never an act like you previously thought.
“I don’t hate you. I thought I did. But I don’t. I was so scared that you thought you were better than me, and that you were pretending to be someone you weren’t so you could win me over…it doesn’t make sense, but I thought once you had me you were going to discard me. Like everyone else.” You admitted.
You caught your breath again, now finally breathing normally.
“But I know now that I love all those things about you. I love your goofy jokes, your science shirts… I love when you go on unprompted science rants, I love the face you make when you’re concentrating, I love the weird ways you wear his glasses, and I love kissing your face.” Your hands were thrown up around you, moving as you spoke manically.
Ryland stepped closer, a little out of his doorway.
“I never thought I was better than you…I wanted to hate you because you hated me, but I couldn’t.” He shrugged.
“I shouldn’t have shrugged you off so easily. I’m so sorry. I was afraid of getting hurt. You were right, I’m not as courageous as I thought. But I’m saying the truth now, and the truth is that I’m in love with you. And I’m not saying this because I’m lonely, I’m saying this because I want you. All of you.”
You waited for his response, in the form of words. Instead, he grabbed your face between his hands just like he did previously, this time more gentle, with more focus. He smiled, and you lifted your hand to rest in his hair.
“I hate how good your hair always looks.” You grumbled. “Its used to annoy the shit out of–”
He kissed you, shutting you up, his stubble grazing against your chin. This time it felt more pure, it was an unspoken act of forgiveness, and a real expression of affection you had both desperately needed from each other all that time. You felt him smile into it, you couldn’t help but smile back. You kissed him harder, tilting your head and sighing contently as you pulled away.
“I want you too. All of you.” He whispered. “Let me put that kettle of tea on, and you can make yourself at home.”
He leaned forward to grab your hand, interlacing your fingers, pulling you inside shyly, and swiftly. You giggled at his adorable face, as he welcomed you into his home.
