Summary: Flowers are living poetry (Slight AU, completely disregards everything Ryan does in Tallahassee)Â
Warnings: None! Maybe slight angst?
Ryan was trying to be better. Heâd gone to AA, tried his best to stay off the drugs, and even started seeing a therapist. He doubted his life would ever be particularly good again, but things were getting better, little by little.
Something his therapist thought would help him was poetry, so he picked it up. Not just writing his own, but looking for it everywhere. Thatâs what led him to flowers. Throughout his recovery, Ryan developed a fascination with them. He never realized before just how beautiful they were, not just on the surface, but what they represented. Flowers are living poetry, and Ryanâs therapist suggested he immerse himself in it.
Ryanâs therapist had also been suggesting he get some time away- from Kelly, specifically. Nearly all of his earlier sessions had involved her in some way. Heâd never tell, but a few of his sessions were spent crying when it came to her. Ryan didnât love Kelly and honestly, he hated himself for it.
Letting go of Kelly had been a long and painstaking process, but it was nowhere near as hard as it seemed to be for Kelly to let go of him. He tried everything the therapist suggested. He talked to her but she didnât listen. He distanced himself from her, but she didnât take the hint. He stopped answering her calls, but she just found other ways to reach him. Ryan didnât want to hurt her. He was tired of hurting her. So, he did the next best thing. He found a way to get away from her.
Ryan knew it wasnât exactly what his therapist suggested, but he was out of ideas. Itâs not like he could just find a new job. With his record, heâd be lucky land a job at a grocery store. He had to get away, and when Andy announced the Florida trip, he knew he had to go. If they could get away from each other for a while, maybe she would move on.
Or maybe he would.
Falling for Erin was an accident, really. It had been happening for a long time, but there were a million reasons why it was wrong. Erin loved Andy and everybody thought Ryan loved Kelly, not to mention Gabeâs scary obsession. Ryan was still recovering. He wasnât supposed to be involved with anyone. Besides, Erin wasnât even his type. She was soft and sweet and pure, basically Ryanâs polar opposite.
Still, he couldnât help but find himself drawn to her.
If there was one thing that intrigued Ryan the most about Erin, it was her innocence. There was something so familiar about it, to the point that looking at her felt like being hit with a wave of nostalgia. It made him feel like a schoolboy again, sneaking glances and shy smiles and wondering what sheâd say if he asked to hold her hand. It had been a long time since he had felt that way, and it was scary.
The first time Ryan truly saw Erin was on Secretaryâs Day, when the infamous cake thing happened. Some people thought it was ridiculous (Michael). Others agreed with her (Pam). Most people were just confused, and Ryan considered himself part of the majority. At first, he didnât understand why Erin was so upset about Andy having dated someone else in the office, but then he realized.
Erin had probably never been in a serious relationship before.
That realization both overwhelmed and excited Ryan. She truly was innocent, and it made him wish he was too. So, he kept striving to be better. He followed the twelve steps of sobriety and took everything his therapist said to heart, all in the name of proving to himself that he could be innocent too, that deep down, that same sweet and childlike goodness hadnât disappeared.
So, he convinced Andy and Dwight to let him go, packed his bags, and went to Tallahassee. He spent the flight sneakily watching Erin and writing furiously in his little notebook. Ryan knew he shouldnât care for her. He knew he wasnât ready yet. But, that didnât mean he couldnât plan something nice for her.
The second they got to the hotel, he dropped his stuff and stopped by the nearest flower shop, setting a bouquet to be delivered to the front desk in the morning.
Ryan spent the night tossing and turning, terrified that he had made the wrong decision. Eventually he convinced himself that it didnât matter anyway. If she reacted badly, no one would ever know they were from him. The only thing he wrote in the card was the type of flower and its meaning. She had to know the flowers were picked especially for her.
The second he saw the glowing smile on her face, it took everything in him to keep from blurting out the truth.
White Lilacs: youthful innocence
Erin was confused by the flowers. Why wouldnât she be? But that didnât mean she didnât appreciate them. In fact, she loved them more than Ryan ever expected she would. As soon as she saw the flowers, she started going on about how pretty they were to Dwight, who couldnât care less.
Pretty flowers for a pretty girl, he thought.
The moment he caught her gaze and noticed just how happy she was, he knew he wanted to make her feel that way every day.
So, he did.
Almost every night, heâd buy Erin a new bouquet. It probably wasnât the best idea, considering how poor Ryan was, but he couldnât deny the fact that the look on her face was totally, completely worth it.
The first week was filled with platonic flowers. Flowers to represent the girl herself.
White Lilies: purity
Crocus: youthful joy
Daisies: gentleness
Poppies: imagination
Each bouquet seemed to bring a bigger smile to Erinâs face, and more affection for her to Ryanâs heart. He didnât send flowers on the weekend. Instead, he spent long nights in his hotel room debating whether or not he should just go over and tell her the truth. But how would he go about doing that?
âHey, Erin, you practically have no idea who I am, but Iâve been spending a shit ton of money just to make you smile.â
Ryan went back to the same thought over and over, that being that his entire plan was creepy. He knew he could easily be caught. Ditching the entire group to go to a flower shop every night wasnât exactly inconspicuous. Part of him hoped Erin would figure it out. Another part of him was terrified she would be disappointed and wouldnât understand. So, to avoid confusion, he didnât abandon his plan. He took it to the next level.
The next morning, another bouquet sat waiting for Erin.
Sunflowers: adoration
Ryan hoped she understood what he meant. That he adored her. That this wasnât thoughtless, and that she didnât have to go back to Andy. As much as Ryan liked her, though, he knew Erin wasnât the most perceptive person in the world, especially since she referred to them as, âThe flowers from Shrek!â when she saw them. Ryan still thought her smile was worth it.
Moonflowers: dreaming of love
This time, he added to the note, just to be safe.
PS. Be careful. These guys are poisonous, but you can still touch them :)
Yes, the chances of her actually ingesting the flowers were low, but he didnât put it past Dwight to try.
Petunias: your presences soothes me
Ryan knew this one was a lot more direct than the others, but he figured it was time. If Erin hadnât started wondering who they were from by now, there was no doubt sheâd be looking. He didnât know if he should be scared or relieved.
Camellias: admiration and perfection
Erin started asking questions. Not to him in particular, but she was still asking. She started her own sort of investigation and even enlisted a little bit of Dwightâs help when she could, but Ryan was still never accused of sending her the flowers. Ryan wondered if she even suspected it was him. He thought if she asked he might just come right out and tell her.
Gladiolus: infatuation
They were a week from going home and Ryan still had no idea how to tell Erin the truth. On one hand, he could sit and wait for her to figure it out (if she ever would). On the other, he could man up and tell her himself. He couldnât blame her for not realizing it was him. Erin and Kelly were friends, and he was sure Kelly had complained to her about how little he bought her things like flowers and candy.
Ryan hoped Erinâs view of him hadnât been completely ruined. He was a different man than he was with Kelly. Erin made him want to be better, and he hoped sheâd give him a chance to prove he could be.
Gardenias: my secret love
The less time Ryan had, the more he knew he had to tell her. It was a matter of days before they went home, but he couldnât bring himself to do it. Every time he bought another bouquet, he thought about delivering it face to face, but he didnât want to see the disappointment on her face when she realized it was only him. He couldnât bring himself to stop buying the flowers either. He was in too deep now to just suddenly stop, so he figured he would send them until the end of the trip and wait to see if she figured it out before then.
She didnât.
The next morning, there were no flowers waiting, and Erin couldnât hide the disappointment on her face if she tried. Ryan had meant to get them, but Dwight had him working late the night before and he just didnât have time to stop by the flower shop before it closed. Erinâs mood didnât change at all throughout the day, and Ryan couldnât stand knowing it was his fault she felt that way.
That evening, there was a bouquet lying in front of her door.
Forget-Me-Nots: I know itâs late, but I promise Iâd never forget about you.
......
Today was the day he was going to it. Ryan was going to tell Erin. Instead of having the flowers delivered like usual, he woke up early and picked them up himself. He was going to hand deliver them, and he was petrified. Ryan hoped he would be able to tell her what they meant, but he still wrote a note in the event that he freaked out and left them on the floor.
The walk to her room was full of deep breaths and mumbled self-assurances. Everything Ryan had done for the past three weeks had led up to this moment, and it had the capability of changing his entire life. It could either make his job a whole lot worse or way better. Considering the number of people working at Dunder Mifflin that Ryan had already wronged, he really didnât want to add Erin to the list. Either way, it was now or never. He figured sheâd put it together eventually, so he might as well admit it himself.
Just as Ryan lifted a shaking hand to knock on the door, he heard Erinâs voice on the other side, and one that sounded suspiciously like Cathyâs.
âWhat do you mean? Why arenât you coming back with us?â
Ryan stopped dead in his tracks.
âI just canât. I canât face Andy when I get there. Plus, I can start a new life here. A woman we met at the store offered me a job and a place to stay, and now I donât have to go home.â
She wasnât coming back.
The flowers in his hand suddenly felt ten pounds heavier and he watched helplessly as they fell at his feet before he turned on his heel and slipped straight back into his room to pack his bags.
Linaria Bipartita: please return my affection for you.
âŚâŚ..
The next morning, Ryan made it to the airport with seconds to spare. He stayed up all night thinking about what his last bouquet would be and as soon as the flower shop opened, he was inside. His last note had been scribbled as quickly and legibly as he could, before he rushed to Erinâs room and placed it gently on the floor. This time, he made sure to knock before he slipped out of the hotel, barely missing Erinâs excited smile when she saw her final set of flowers.
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Five Reasons Kelly Stays (Ryan Howard x Kelly Kapoor)
Summary: Five reasons Kelly stays, even though she deserves, like, so much better.Â
Warnings: None!
   1. He calls her âbuttonâ.
Itâs late when it first happens. Theyâd just finished yet another evening of love making (Ryan hates when Kelly calls it that, but she does it anyway. He learns to tolerate it.) and Ryan is already nodding off at her side. Heâs been so wrapped up in business school lately he can hardly keep his eyes open. Kellyâs grateful he still makes time for her, even if he has an ulterior motive. This time, though, itâs been particularly easy to pretend heâs there because he loves her. Usually, their evenings together are filled with passive aggressive remarks from Ryan and a whole lot of feigned ignorance on Kellyâs end. Lately though, heâs been softer with her.
Kellyâs not all the way sure why this is, but sheâs grateful for it. Maybe itâs the exhaustion, or the stress from work making him somewhat grateful for Kelly- he knows now he could have it worse. Maybe he appreciates her now- if only a fraction as much as she appreciates him. Either way, she knows not to take it for granted. Sometimes she thinks things with Ryan change faster than she can blink.
So, itâs weeks of him looking at her a little softer, listening a little more, and even holding the door for her when they leave the office sometimes, all leading up to this one life altering climax:
Sheâs curled into his side (albeit at Ryanâs reluctance) when she mumbles the same thing she always does, a simple âgoodnight, Ryan,â that she expects to go ignored. It almost always is. Itâs only when sheâs almost asleep that Kelly hears it.
âGoodnight, Button.â
Itâs so out of character and Ryanâs so out of it that sheâs not even sure sheâs heard him right. But when she sits up she catches a glimpse of that smirk on his face, the one he saves for when he thinks no one can see, and sheâs so excited thereâs no way she can fall back asleep.
Everything in her itches to say something but she holds back. She knows how he can be. Kelly doesnât want to ruin the moment or do anything to make Ryan wish he hadnât gone so soft with her. So instead of bringing it up, she smiles wider than she ever has and snuggles back into his side, thinking about it until she finally does fall asleep, dreaming of Ryan doing something that really does ring true.
He calls her Button again tomorrow.
   2. He has good taste in movies
Night after night, Kelly subjects Ryan to a plethora of movies she swears will be good, and night after night, Ryan rolls his eyes. She swears she picks them for the plot, but they both know Kelly just picks a movie starring whatever guy she finds hottest at the time. So far, theyâve made it through at least half of Johnny Deppâs filmography, every Hugh Grant movie Ryanâs ever heard of, and Twilight, not once, not twice, but six times.
Kelly knows Ryan hates them. She knows heâd much rather be catching up on homework or watching a hockey game, but she also knows that Ryan hates to talk. These movies are a way to lessen the amount of conversation he has to put up with- to an extent, at least. Nothing is stopping Kelly from saying âOh my god, he is so hot,â every five minutes. Sometimes sheâll add a âRyan, donât you think so?â and if sheâs lucky heâll play along. Most of the time, though, sheâs met with a noncommittal grunt, but sheâll take it either way.
She would let Ryan pick the movies- if his taste âwasnât so effing boring all the timeâ. For the first few months of their relationship, Kelly dictates every movie they watch, and Ryan accepts with minimal complaints. Itâs only after Ryan asks her to watch Star Wars for the fifth time that she finally caves. When she does, sheâs never been so shocked in her life.
âOh my god, Ryan! Space romance? Thatâs, like, totally beautiful! Youâre totally the Han Solo to my Princess Leia, right? He is so you. Am I like her? Oh my god, do you think Iâm as pretty as her?â
And today must be one of the days she gets lucky.
âOf course you are. Prettier maybe.â
Thatâs enough to convince her that maybe Ryanâs taste isnât so bad after all.
   3. He listens to her fashion advice.
When Kelly met Ryan, she thought he was a lost cause. His closet was full of cheap button downs (many of them with stains at the sleeves) and basketball shorts. His idea of dressing up outside of work meant a pair of baggy jeans and a long sleeve tee, and âtreating himselfâ meant spending a few extra bucks on a hoodie from K-Mart.
Now, if Kelly Kapoor could use any word to describe herself, it would be fashionable. How was she ever supposed to live up to her own self-imposed reputation if she let her man (though he refuses to refer to himself as such) look embarrassing? There would be no hope left in the world if Kelly Kapoor couldnât keep her man in check.
Still, she knew when to push him and when not to, so she suffered through months of wrinkled shirts and oversized shorts before she ever even attempted to get him to clean up his act. It was little things at first, telling him here and there what color sweater she thought would bring out his eyes, how nice heâd look if he wore his pants a little tighter. Bit by bit, she got him to dress a little better, even if what she really wanted to do was go headfirst into one of those makeover montages she sees in the movies she loves so much.
The greatest change, she thinks, comes the evening they watch Spiderman for the first time (Kelly is fresh into her James Franco phase that week), when she gets the greatest epiphany of her entire life.
âOh my GOD, Ryan! You should totally invest in a pair of glasses. You could be, like, sexy Tobey Maguire! And I could be like MJ- except, Kirsten Dunst is totally beautiful enough already, you know?â
She thinks heâs just brushed her off like he so often does and she tries not to let it get to her. The next time they go to the mall, though, she steps out of the Macyâs changing room and spots Ryan testing out different frames in the mirror in the corner.
And if he let her pick out which ones screamed Tobey Maguire-but-with-sex-appeal the loudest, nobody had to know but her.
   4. He writes poetry.
Kelly doesnât understand why Ryan doesnât talk a lot. Most of the time she thinks itâs because of her, but it doesnât really bother her. Sheâs used to talking enough for other people and doesnât mind filling the spaces where Ryan doesnât seem to have much to say. Still, she canât help but wish heâd tell her what heâs thinking sometimes, even if the few times he does it tends to hurt her feelings.
One night though, sheâs up watching the latest episode of American Idol when Ryan dozes off on the couch next to her. Heâs got his laptop in his lap, and Kelly just assumed he was working on something for business school. But when she moves to cuddle up to his side (the only time he canât argue about it) she sees he wasnât doing homework at all. He was updating his blog.
She knew Ryan had wanted to start a blog for a long time, and even remembers him mentioning once about how he was asked to help Creed create his own, but it never crossed her mind to ask if he had ever gotten around to it. Now that she knew, there was no way she would forget.
From what she can see, this wasnât just a normal blog. When Ryan brought up creating one she assumed heâd use it to write about his life or review movies or something. She never thought heâd be using it to write poetry.
Kelly slowly and carefully pries the laptop from his sleeping clutches and scrolls through post after post of Ryanâs own original poetry. Some of it, she guesses, is about her, but a lot of it isnât. Instead, most of it is comprised of musings about different things, like flowers and snowfall and even things as simple as paperclips, definitions and metaphors stretched out into almost as many words as Kelly can fit into a single conversation.
She wonders if this was why Ryan doesn't talk as much as her. If his thoughts always came to him in such a complicated way that he thinks she wouldn't get it. She wishes he'd have more faith in her than that. She would at least try to understand for him. When she's done reading, she slips the laptop back into his lap as discreetly as she can.
Kelly never brings it up and if Ryan ever knew sheâd found out about the blog, he didnât let on. Still, not bringing it up didnât stop her from coming back to his blog later, copying down a series of poems heâd titled: The Beauty of the Rambling Girl.
She knows that one is for her.
5. He loves her too, even if he doesnât admit it.
Contrary to popular belief, Kelly can tell when sheâs not wanted. She sees the way peopleâs shoulderâs tense when she walks into a room. She is not oblivious to the many times people roll their eyes at her. Even Pam canât remain completely stoic on Kellyâs most talkative days. The difference is, Ryan doesnât try to hide it.
Kelly knows when sheâs starting to annoy Ryan. He tells her when heâs had enough of a conversation, even if sometimes itâs a little too harsh. The fact is, Ryan is a compulsive liar, but his emotions never lie. Sheâs learned to read them like a book. Itâs the only time sheâs sure heâs telling her the truth.
Her ability to read him extends beyond his annoyance, even if he doesnât realize it. She can tell the way his face softens when he hears her laugh. She can see the fondness in his eyes when he rolls them at her for calling Orlando Bloom hot one too many times.
She also feels the way he touches her, the gentleness he saves for when he thinks sheâs fallen asleep, a hand carding through her hair when heâs still up doing homework (or secretly writing love poetry), or the pad of his thumb as he slowly traces the curves of her face. It takes everything in Kelly not to smile in these moments- not to let on that she knows. Sheâs onto him, no matter how many times he pretends to be uninterested or pretends heâs not listening.
Ryan is smitten with Kelly, just as she is with him, and that thought alone is enough to make her want to stay forever, make her smile when no oneâs looking, make her dance alone in her room.
He might be a liar, a thief, an all-around jerk, and a little bit of a cheater, but he LOVES Kelly Kapoor. She thinks an I told you so will be waiting on the tip of her tongue for the rest of her life, because thatâs how long she plans on staying.
That Night In North Korea (Dave Skylark x Aaron Rapoport)
Summary: What if Dave and Aaron went to North Korea... and there was only ONE bed?!?!?
Warnings: None, just cursing!
Aaron is trying not to lose his shit. Granted, heâd estimate about 90% of his friendship with Dave consists of him doing just that. Typically, though, putting up with Dave centers more around handling his larger than life ideas or doing damage control when an interview goes wrong. Never before had he taken on something so big with Dave at his side- or ever, really.
Every few minutes Aaron has to remind himself what heâs here for- but if heâs being honest with himself heâd say the agenda got lost somewhere between all the honey potting and typical Dave nonsense. Except this wasnât typical Dave nonsense. Theyâre in North Korea for fuckâs sake, plotting to kill one of the most infamous dictators in history. That, coupled with the fact that Aaronâs pretty sure they just fucking killed the guard out there (heâs still pissed at Dave for changing the bag. This is totally his fault, but theyâll deal with that later) makes for a pretty chaotic trip.
Itâs understandable, then, that Aaron didnât really piece together every detail of the situation when they first walked in. Now that the guards have left, though, and theyâve somewhat made peace with the fact that they just knocked the first domino on that kind-of-innocent-but-not-really guardâs impending doom, he finally takes a look around the room. Itâs nice, of course, it being in the home of a wealthy dictator and all, but Aaron canât really pinpoint whatâs off about it at first. Itâs only when Dave makes that stupid, awkward comment about taking a shower with him that he finally realizes:
Thereâs only one bed.
âDude, thereâs only one bed,â he says, Dave already preoccupied with sitting on it, sifting through the contents of his bag.
âYeah⌠and?â
âWhat the fuck do you mean âandâ dude? This means we have to share.â
Dave Scoffs, âSo? What? You donât wanna share with me? I canât sleep in your bed? You scared youâre gonna get cooties or something? I can give you cooties if thatâs what youâre looking for.â
With a simple âshut the fuck upâ on Aaronâs end and a laugh from Daveâs, the conversation is dropped for the moment, their attention turning to however the hell they were going to explain to the CIA lady that someone had literally ate their poison. Aaron letâs Dave take every bit of the blame for that- he encourages it. This is not Aaronâs fucking fault and if it were up to him, everything would be going just as planned.
Of course, though, Aaron is the one who reaps most of the consequences of Daveâs mistake, like he so often does. Unfortunately, taking the wrap for Dave, this time, is so much more than a slap on the wrist. He was okay with dressing up in those stupid dark clothes, and he could even deal with having to crawl across the ground (causing the worst tummy burn of the century) but he was in no way prepared to be face to face with a fucking tiger. Heâd rather let Dave drop him out of a window ten more times than be in the situation he was in at that exact moment.
Aaron had never been more terrified in his life, and it didnât help that the only real advice he was getting from anyone was Dave telling him to fucking square up against an actual, real life tiger. But the horrors donât stop after the tiger is killed. Of course they donât. At that point, all Aaron wants to do is take a shower and maybe a little bit cry himself to sleep. Instead, heâs forced to brace himself, shove something up his ass and strip naked in front of a bunch of dudes heâs never even met. All because Dave had to bring his Gucci bag.
Dave doesnât know if itâs any consolation, but he really did owe Aaron a tummy rub after that shit.
When Aaron finally gets inside, has his shower and pries the package from his literal asshole, all he wants to do was pass out. So, he climbs in bed with the lights still on and attempts to do just that. He expects Dave to just settle for the floor or something (itâs the least he could do, after all) but he knows heâs wrong when he feels the bed dip beside him.
âNo way, dude. Thereâs only one bed, and itâs mine.â
He hears Dave gasp at his side.
âWhat? Come on, Aardvark. You can share.â
Aaron shoots up, finding Dave with his head leaned against his hand, glancing down at him.
âWould you STOP calling me that? And would you get out of my bed while youâre at it?â
Dave lifts a finger to boop Aaronâs nose.
âYouâre cute when youâre all bothered like that. Iâm gonna go take a shower.â
With that, he lifts himself from the bed and scampers off to the bathroom, leaving Aaron to finally get some peace. He knew the battle to have the bed to himself isnât one heâll win, but it really doesnât bother him all that much. He and Dave are close, close enough that theyâve slept at each otherâs places all the time, but maybe not so close as to sleep in the same bed. This night though, it seemed that would change.
Dave comes back from the shower just a few minutes later, hair damp and eyes drooped. He switches the lights off and draws the covers back (Aaron had left a generous enough amount for him, he felt) and climbs into bed. Itâs quiet for a few minutes, the only thing really alerting Aaron of Daveâs presence being the familiar scent of his expensive shampoo. Itâs quiet for so long that Aaron starts to think Dave had fallen asleep.
He only knows he was wrong when he feels a hand reach out to curl around his bicep. He jumps a little at first, not expecting the sudden contact, but he doesnât say anything. Dave must take his silence as an okay because, not even a minute later, Aaron feels him draw up close behind him, moving his hand from Aaronâs bicep to his waist.
Itâs quiet again for a few minutes before Dave finally speaks, his voice so hushed and body so close that Aaron feels it more than hears it.
âDo you really think we can kill a guy? Like, on purpose?â
Aaron hesitates.
âWe said we would. I mean, I donât know if we can back out now, even if we donât think we can do it. I think we can. I mean, at least I want to think I didnât just shove that thing up my ass for nothing. Plus, I think we sort of already killed that guy earlier.â
âYeah, but that doesnât count. That was an accident.â
âI guess. But⌠still sort of murder. I donât know, dude. Letâs just call it a gray area.â
Dave offers him a âyeah,â through a tight lipped smile and pulls himself impossibly closer to Aaron, resting his face in the nape of his neck.
Aaron finds himself surprisingly pleased by the contact (heâd never admit it) and decides it was in the best interest of them both to just let it happen. Heâs still feeling a little shaken up from that tiger incident, after all. He could use a little comfort right now.
That is, of course, until he feels Daveâs hand start to slip underneath his tee shirt, moving in gentle circles over the skin of his stomach.
âDave, what the HELL are you doing right now?â
He can hear Dave smiling a little when he answers, the playful tone he usually carries back in full swing.
âIâm rubbing your tummy. Like I said I would.â
âThat is so fucking weird, dude. Stop it.â
Dave knows he isnât as upset as he sounds when Aaron only weakly pushes his hand away, not bothering to move it again when it returns to where it was before. Aaron is often like this. Afraid of contact for the sake of his ego, but Dave knows underneath it all where the boundaries are and not to cross them. He can tell when his best friend is uncomfortable.
âWhat? Itâs weird to cuddle with the homies? You think itâs weird for me to treat my best friend with some well-deserved, Skylark branded TLC??? Guess what, dude? Youâre weird. Now let me rub your tummy.â
Aaron knows better than to challenge Daveâs nonsense, and he really doesnât want to. Heâs alone, halfway across the world with his best friend on a murder mission. The least he could get out of this experience is some affection from someone he really did love, even if the lines that define in-what-way get blurred sometimes. His stomach is still sore, anyway. It wasnât hurting anything to give into Dave just this once.
Or the next day.
Or the next day.
Or every day after that.
After all, theyâre basically war heroes now. They can do whatever the fuck they want.
And whatever the fuck they want is exactly what they do, if âwhatever the fuck they wantâ meant falling obnoxiously in love with each other.
Wayne doesnât remember falling asleep last night. One minute, he was captivated by the Buffy the Vampire Slayer tape theyâd rented (Kristy Swanson- what a babe!) and the next he was curled up on his basement couch, something warm against his chest.
If Wayne doesnât remember falling asleep last night, he certainly doesnât remember how he ended up in this position. Itâs only when Wayne opens his eyes that he fully grasps the situation. Lying there, face pressed against his shirt collar, is Garth. His glasses had been lost somewhere during the night and Wayne, for a single, fleeting thought hopes they havenât been broken, before the sound of Garth softly stirring reminds him of the issue at hand.
As he watches Garth settle under his chin, Wayne is overcome with a sudden urge to pull him closer. At that, he has to stop for a second. What would bring on a thought like that? Surely it couldnât be anything more than a freak incident. It couldnât be anything... gay. Wayne Campbell? A homo? Yeah, and monkeys might fly out of his butt!
Still, if having Garth so close brought a little swell of affection to his chest, itâs no oneâs business. Garth is his best friend. Of course he loves him. And so what if he gets the urge to hold his hand from time to time. Wayne is just a very affectionate friend. He worries about Garth. Itâs normal. Heâs sure it is. Even if it wasnât, who cares? Itâs not like heâs gonna marry Garth. It wouldnât be legal.
Taking a glance at Garthâs watch, the hand it belongs to splayed across Wayneâs chest, he takes note of the time and deems it way too late at night to be considering such life altering topics as his own sexuality. So what if he loves Garth a little too much? So what if right after he checks the time, he pulls Garth closer, closes his eyes and falls asleep with his hand slipped beneath his best friends shirt?
