#grumpy husbands

“ - you’re a fucking idiot, Ryan!”

“Oh fuck you, Jeremy!”

“What fuck me? It’s not my fucking problem, its yours!”

“Yeah well, my fucking problem is you!”

Jeremy opens his mouth to respond and feels his heart crumble the same moment Ryan’s face falls and he steps away before Ryan can touch him, shaking his head mutely at whatever Ryan’s about to say, he doesn’t want to hear it, he doesn’t want to know, he doesn’t -

“I don’t wanna hear it,” he says, stern and serious and Ryan, to his credit, doesn’t try to touch him.

“Jeremy - “

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Ryan, if I’m just another problem for you,” Jeremy snaps, shoots him a glare before sharply storming of down the hallway – Ryan doesn’t follow him, and Jeremy doesn’t fucking want him to, and instead of going to their bedroom he goes to the guest bedroom, slams the door shut with a resounding thud that sends a chorus of meowing down the hallway.

Jeremy leans against the door and angrily locks it, his eyes wet as he bangs his forehead against the door and wishes he wasn’t such a fucking dumbass. He knows, logically, that Ryan didn’t mean it, that they’ve been married for four years and in love for longer and this isn’t their first argument and they were angry and arguing and – and – and he still can’t quite get over the niggling little thought in the back of his mind that maybe this is finally it, this is when Ryan leaves. That maybe Ryan’s right and maybe Jeremy’s become too fucking much for him.

He doesn’t hear any noise down the hallway except the cats. Something darts up to his door and starts scratching and a moment later Jeremy hears Ryan shooing the cat away.

Jeremy refuses to admit he’s crying because he’s not that pathetic, fuck. But he can’t quite see his wedding ring anymore or the floor and when he has to breathe again it comes in as a wet sniffle.

Footsteps stop outside his door. Pause. Walk away.

“Get your shit together, Dooley,” Jeremy whispers to himself, wipes his eyes and pushes away to go to the ensuite and clean himself up.

–

Jeremy can’t sleep. Finds it hard when he’s fidgety and restless and can’t stop hating himself for overreacting so badly.

He needs to apologise, he knows. He said plenty of things he never meant and he knows Ryan might quietly take them to heart and believe them.

Something scratches at his door again, meows loudly. Jeremy sighs into the pillow and rolls off the bed, trudging to the door to unlock it and let Skinner bound in, hopping up to the bed and padding around in a circle, meowing at Jeremy until he locks the door and returns, dragging Skinner up to his chest and huffing when Skinner kneads at him.

Skinner calms down after a little while, curling up beside Jeremy and purring against him as Jeremy strokes his flank.

Jeremy sighs and knows he’s not getting to sleep that night.

–

Jeremy only catches a few hours of fitful sleep, wakes up with a yawn and sees the daylight peeking in around the curtains and figures he might as well get up.

Skinner scampers out ahead of him and dashes into the depths of the house, no doubt searching for food. Jeremy rubs a hand over his beard and walks down the dark hallway, emerging into the main living area to head to the kitchen.

Movement catches his eye and he glances over at the sofa to see Dasher blinking up at him, perched carefully on – on Ryan. Jeremy frowns. Glances back at the kitchen and back at Ryan and it’s easy to deduce that Ryan spent the night on the sofa.

Ryan doesn’t look very comfortable, his face smushed into a cushion and his arm dangling over the edge, but he looks – asleep. Somewhat. Jeremy doesn’t disturb him – he beckons Dasher over and goes to get breakfast.

–

Ryan wakes up shortly after Jeremy’s breakfast, startles awake with a snort and a faint thud that Jeremy doesn’t bother to investigate. He stays firmly at the breakfast bar just off the kitchen, staring resolutely at his phone as Ryan shambles in.

Awkward minutes pass where Ryan pours cereal into a bowl, shuffles around getting a drink and cutlery and -

“Is that yours?”

Jeremy glances over to see what Ryan’s pointing at – the plate of bacon sitting by the stove.

“No, it’s for you,” Jeremy says, doesn’t meet Ryan’s eyes when he turns away again.

“Oh. Thanks.” And a moment later Jeremy hears the crunch of bacon as Ryan bites some off.

Jeremy didn’t even have any bacon today but he’s not about to admit he made some solely for Ryan, not when he’s trying to hold a grudge against him.

“Slept on the sofa?” Jeremy asks a couple minutes later, as Ryan’s munching on his cereal at the counter instead of the bar. Ryan ‘hm’s in agreement and idly taps his spoon against the rim of the bowl.

“Couldn’t, uh – didn’t want to - “ Ryan trails off with a vague gesture down the hallway that Jeremy sees out of the corner of his eye. Ryan clears his throat and nods to himself, shifting his weight.

“Felt wrong,” he says quietly.

Jeremy nods and gets up to leave, drops his bowl by the sink on his way and doesn’t look Ryan in the eye once.

–

By afternoon, Jeremy’s gathered up the courage to go nap in their bed, hoping maybe if he leaves the door ajar Ryan’ll take the hint and come in and – and Jeremy doesn’t really know what his plan is from there but fuck it, he hates the awkwardness and he hates the nothing happening between them.

He’s on his side, back to the door, one hand trapped under Dasher and the other tucked under his pillow, when the door creaks open further.

Jeremy’s nowhere near sleep but he pretends he is – can feel drowsiness tugging at him if he thinks about it, but he’s far too tense to relax now, everything coiling up and building inside him and he’s sure he’d be trembling if his hands were free.

Ryan lingers in the doorway for a moment before walking in, climbing on the bed beside Jeremy and scooting up to his back. A beat of silence passes. Another. Anot -

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy blurts out, abruptly rolling over to face Ryan – Dasher hops off the bed and Jeremy forces himself to keep the eye contact as Ryan’s mouth opens, closes – his fingers reach out to hesitantly touch Jeremy’s arm and Jeremy lets him, studying his face for any signs of – something.

“I’m sorry,” Ryan whispers, his hand drifting up to hover over Jeremy’s cheek. “Jeremy, fuck, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

And he’s so damn sincere it tugs at Jeremy’s heartstrings and he nods, shuffling a little closer to curl his hands in Ryan’s shirt.

“I didn’t mean it, either,” he says. Ryan’s hand settles on his face and strokes over his cheek and Ryan leans in intimately close, pausing moments before their noses touch.

“I love you,” Ryan murmurs, his eyes flicking between Jeremy’s, perhaps looking for rejection.

He won’t find it. Like Jeremy could ever not forgive his husband for stupid arguments over – Jeremy can’t even remember what started it.

“I love you, too,” Jeremy breathes. Ryan’s breath stumbles over itself and Jeremy’s the one to close the gap between them, kissing him gently on the lips and sighing through his nose at the pleasant contact.

“Missed you,” Ryan mumbles.

“It was one night,” Jeremy mumbles back. Ryan harrumphs and slides his hand to curl around Jeremy’s neck, kissing him open-mouthed instead. Jeremy drapes an arm over Ryan’s waist and tugs in the warmth he missed last night, keeping his other hand loosely fisted in Ryan’s shirt.

“Still,” Ryan says when they break apart, nudging their foreheads together to look Jeremy in the eye. “You’re never a problem for me, Jeremy.”

A few years ago, Jeremy would have disagreed. Would have pushed him away and wallowed in self-loathing again and ignore anything Ryan had to say on the matter except what hurt most.

But now – now Jeremy swallows down the reflex to denydeny and looks at the plain honesty on Ryan’s face and he’s confident and sure when he nods this time, any remaining anger melting away and the lingering sting of Ryan’s angry words soothed a bit.

“And I – don’t hate you, Ryan. I don’t – wish you were – gone,” Jeremy whispers, his heart clenching at the reminder of all the vile things he said. “I really really don’t - “

“I know,” Ryan says, a little shaky, like he doesn’t quite know yet, but Jeremy can tell he’s not outright lying, not like he used to.

“Ryan,you can’t – Ryan, please don’t pour that in there.”

“What?It’s fine.”

“No– no, it’s not!”

“It’llmake them taste better!”

“Itwon’t!”

“Oh?Wanna bet?” Ryan asks, cocking an eyebrow as he tips the can andpours Diet Coke into his pancake batter – tips it further and putsmore than half of it in and Jeremy groans loudly, pinching thebridge of his nose.

“Why- “ Jeremy breaks into a laugh, looking despairingly at the batterRyan’s mixing, “Why did I agree to this?”

“Becauseyou love me,” Ryan says. “And you didn’t want to make breakfasttoday.”

“Ididn’t know you’d put your fucking – soda addiction in it!”

“Firstof all, not an addiction,” Ryan says, holding a finger up. “Andsecond of all, it’ll either make them better or not change athing!”

“Youbetter hope you’re right,” Jeremy grumbles. Ryan leans over tosnag an arm around his waist and tugs him in to kiss the corner ofhis mouth, still stirring with his other hand.

“Tryin’to fucking – fatten me up,” Jeremy adds.

“Mm,more to love,” Ryan murmurs, still nosing at Jeremy’s cheek.

“Ihate you.”

“I’mmaking you pancakes!”

“Youknow I’m trying to cut down on sugar, Ry.”

“Well,shouldn’t have asked me to make the pancakes, then.”

Jeremybutts his head against Ryan’s and Ryan laughs, pressing a soft kissto his cheek.

“I’llmake a protein batch after this one,” he says.

“Thanks,”Jeremy replies, turning to kiss him. And a moment later - “I canmake them, though.”

“No,”Ryan insists, playfully bumping his nose against Jeremy’s. “Isaid I’d make you pancakes, so I’ll make you pancakes.”

“Icould do them now and we’d be done at the same time - “

“Nope,”Ryan interrupts, his arm tightening around Jeremy so he can’t moveaway. “I’ll make your gross protein pancakes.”

“Withoutthe Diet Coke?”

Ryansighs dramatically and stops stirring to place both his hands onJeremy’s waist, turning to press their foreheads together.

“Onlybecause I love you,” he says solemnly, his stern expressionbreaking into a happy smile when Jeremy laughs.

“Samereason you married me,” Jeremy teases.

“No,I married you for the tax benefits,” Ryan replies smoothly, pickingup his spoon again to resume his stirring. “Obviously.”

“Hm,yeah, obviously,” Jeremy drawls, linking their hands together onhis abdomen, their rings clinking together softly. Ryan squeezes hishand.

“HeyRyan. Ryan. Ryan.”

“What,”Ryan grumbles, rolling over to flop on his back, staring blankly upat the ceiling. Beside him, Jeremy shuffles closer under the blankets– Ryan bats him away when he presses up against his side, too hotto bother with another person’s body heat.

“It’sour anniversary,” Jeremy says, trying to scoot to him again –again Ryan shuffles away with a grunt, pressing a hand over his eyesand peeking at the clock.

“It’smidnight,” he protests, looking over at his husband –despite the dark circles under them, Jeremy’s eyes are bright andhappy, and Ryan’s sour mood dissipates a little under the sincerityof his smile. “What do you want?”

“Ijust want to kiss you,” Jeremy says simply, and Ryan chucklesquietly, dragging his hand over his face.

“Sap,”he teases, and Jeremy hums noncommittally.

“Don’thave to - “ Jeremy starts, his smile faltering minutely, and Ryanshakes his head, rolling onto his side to tug Jeremy in despite thesluggish Texas heat simmering in their bedroom, sweat already shiningon Jeremy’s bare shoulders.

“No,no,” he says, nudging Jeremy’s nose with his own. “It’stradition, isn’t it?”

Jeremygrins and links their left hands together as he closes the gapbetween their mouths, planting a soft, sweet kiss on Ryan’s lipsand running his thumb over the warm metal of Ryan’s ring. He breaksaway with a quiet smack and Ryan chases him – if he’s going to bewoken up for their traditional midnight anniversary kiss, then he’sgoing to get a good goddamn kiss – melting easily into the warmthof Jeremy’s mouth.

“Happyanniversary,” Jeremy says, a trace of a hysterical little giggle inhis voice, like he can’t quite believe it even though it’s beenfour years.

“Happyanniversary,” Ryan breathes, taking a moment to stare at hishusband in the dark of midnight, the glow of the clock the only thinghighlighting the curve of Jeremy’s smile, the warmth in his eyes.

“Youcan go back to sleep now,” Jeremy whispers.

“Iknew I loved you for a reason,” Ryan teases, just to watch Jeremy’scheeks flush. He brushes his lips over Jeremy’s cheek and rollsonto his back again – Jeremy stays a heat-appropriate few inchesaway but keeps their hands entangled, bringing them up to rest on hispillow.

Ryan’slips are still tingling from the kiss when he starts to drift offagain, lulled to a pleasant doze by Jeremy’s soft breathing and thegentle weight of his hand in Ryan’s.

“Ilove you, too,” Jeremy breathes, dropping a light kiss to Ryan’sknuckles.

“Hng,”Ryan grunts in sleepy response – Jeremy laughs breathlessly anddespite how close he is to passing out, Ryan feels his heart clenchup in his chest at the sound.

“Gosleep.”

“Everkiss in the rain?” Jeremy jokes, the line falling flat as they lookout at the grim day before them, rain sleeting down in thick sheetsover the street and flooding the pavements.

“No,”Ryan grumbles.

“Doyou want to?”

“No.”

“Well,someone’s got to drive it in.”

“Youcan fucking do it.”

“Whyme?!”

“It’syour damn car!”

“Youuse it!”

“Notas much as you!”

“Ihate you,” Jeremy mumbles, pouting up at Ryan.

Theheating hasn’t kicked in yet, so they’re both just standing intheir kitchen with a blanket wrapped around both of them, too tiredand too cold to give a single shit about anything but they can’tleave the car out in the rain.

“I’mnever letting you use her again,” Jeremy says. Ryan shrugs andpulls the blanket tighter around them.

“Sure,”he says.

“Fuckyou,” Jeremy sighs, and tosses off the blanket to go find anumbrella and his keys.

Afew minutes later, when Jeremy’s standing at the open front door,swinging his keys on his finger and sighing heavily, dramatically,he turns to Ryan with the best puppy-dog eyes he can give.

“DoI have to?” He asks. Ryan cocks an eyebrow.

“Fine,”Jeremy huffs, stomping outside to go move his goddamn car in thegoddamn rain.

Hegrumbles to himself all the way to the car, even as he slides inbehind the wheel and starts the engine up, clicking the button on theremote to open the garage door. It drags open loudly in the gloomymorning, squealing on its hinges and revealing all the boxes theyhave yet to break down. Oh well.

Jeremyyawns as he flips the engine, pressing down on the pedal a little tomake the car jolt forward and – a flash of orange scampers in frontof him and he brakes abruptly, hard enough to jerk him forward –even more since he’s not wearing a seatbelt – and Ryan dashes infront of the car as well, his pyjamas soaked through as he chasesafter the cat.

Laughterbubbles up in Jeremy’s chest to replace the sudden hit of panic andhe watches with great amusement as Skinner disappears into abush and Ryan crouches to get him down in nothing more than a T-shirtand pyjama bottoms.

Jeremychuckles to himself as he steers the car into the garage, parking itjust next to the extra boxes and opening his umbrella to bracehimself for leaving. He clicks the remote again and ducks out as itshuts, and quickly makes his way to the front door before shaking outthe umbrella and shrugging off the jacket – and turns around to seeRyan coming in behind him, soaking wet and an equally wet catwriggling in his arms.

Jeremylaughs in his face and Ryan glares at him as he releases the catinside the house, sighing at the inevitable mess he’ll make. Ryanflicks his wet hair out of his eyes and frowns, pulling the door shutbehind him and glaring again when Jeremy giggles.

“Ryan,Ry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jeremy says through his snickering,resting his hands on Ryan’s damp arms to feel him trembling withminute shivers.

“Youleft the front door open,” Ryan says, another shiver rippingthrough him as he shakes water from his hair.

“Ithought you’d close it!”

“Hewas faster!”

Jeremychokes down his next laugh and pulls Ryan in closer to warm him up,tugging at the hem of his shirt and glancing down at the puddlethey’re both making on the hallway floor.

“Weshould get you out of these wet clothes,” Jeremy teases. Ryan rollshis eyes and shivers again and lets Jeremy pull off his shirt to dumpit in a wet pile beside them.

“Cheapline,” Ryan mutters, looking so drenched and miserable that Jeremycan’t help dropping a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Sorry,I’m sorry,” he mumbles again, more genuinely this time, shiftingto kiss Ryan full-on. Ryan’s teeth clack against his and rain dripsfrom his hair onto Jeremy’s nose but Jeremy ignores it, tuggingRyan even closer to wrap his arms around his waist.

“Hotshower and then breakfast?” Jeremy asks, pressing his forehead toRyan’s. “That’ll warm you up, right?”

Ryannods slowly – his eyes drop back to Jeremy’s lips and he lickshis own, considering.

“Youwere doing a pretty good job of that,” he breathes, and Jeremygladly meets him halfway this time, opening to the pleasant warmth ofRyan’s mouth as Skinner winds around theirankles and as the rain pours down around the house. 

“Atleast I moved the car.”

“Yeah,thanks for - “

“You’rewelcome!”