"things you said after it was over" tala and bryan
Is it cruel of me to put this out on Valentine’s Day?
#justangstwriterproblems
The front door slammed, causing the house to shake slightly as Boris stomped through the entryway of the small apartment into the living area, his dirty boots tracking snow across the hardwood floors. He peeled off his leather jacket, throwing it aggressively onto the sofa before a figure sitting in an old worn chair caught his eye.
“What are you doing here, Yuriy?” Boris asked, a tired sigh escaped his lips as he gave the intruder and unconvincing glower.
He took a drink of the beer he had helped himself to, causing Boris to frown at Yuriy’s audacity. They hadn’t seen each other in over six months, at times they had been so contentious their mutual friends had been forced to split their time between them like children going through the painful, bitter, divorce of their parents.
“I had nothing better to do, figured I’d finally bring back all the shit you left at my place.” Yuriy said, slouching back in the chair and forcing Boris into an uncomfortable and direct eye contact.
“And why didn’t you just dump it on the floor and leave?” Boris asked, gritting his teeth, thinking whatever items Yuriy was returning now were better destined for the trash then returned, forever tarnished by painful memories that he’d sooner forget.
Boris heard his sharp inhale and cocked an eyebrow slightly, before finally moving from where he’d stopped upon discovering the intruder and grabbing himself a drink from the fridge and dropping into the old sofa across from Yuriy, waiting for a response.
“I thought maybe we… could talk?” Yuriy eventually replied, his voice was strained and slightly shaky.
“About what?” Boris asked, channeling the anger rising in his chest into twisting the cap off his beer. He heard the shaky exhale as Yuriy suppressed an irritated laugh,
“Everyone else is miserable because of us.” Yuriy spoke, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice and the scowl on his face.
“Astute observation, Yura, can’t believe you managed to get your head out of your own ass long enough to notice other people's suffering! That’s some real character development!” Boris replied sarcastically, dopamine flooded him as he watched Yuriy’s eyes narrow and his grip on the glass bottle tighten.
He had some nerve showing up here to talk about the suffering they were causing everyone when it was him who would fall off the face of the earth for months at a time in an attempt to run away from the shadows that kept him awake at night.
Everyone else had started the healing process years ago, it was only Yuriy, only his fucking hubris, that had refused to be helped.
“I deserve that.” Came the soft reply, and when Boris’ vision refocused on the man sitting across from him the irritation had vanished off his face, replaced with a pensive look. This was new, he thought.
“Yeah you sure fucking do.” Boris said, not hiding his pleasure at Yuriy’s admission, it felt like their first step forward in a decade, like maybe, finally, the stubborn asshole was making some progress.
“Anyway… I was hoping maybe we could try to put an end to the aggression between us so that the others aren’t constantly walking on eggshells and scheduling shit to make sure we don’t catch sight of one another.” Yuriy spoke thoughtfully, and Boris recalled how he had loved how he looked when he was focused on something, how the way his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched used to evoke a fluttery sensation in his chest. Only now, the same sight made him feel nothing.
“Yeah sure, but only if you’re going to try too, and not just expect me to be your fucking doormat or whatever.” Boris replied flippantly after some thought, he figured it would be in poor taste to refuse the olive branch being offered.
“So how about we uh, all hang out this Saturday instead of the weird split custody thing we’ve been doing?” Yuriy inquired, tapping a fingernail against the glass of the bottle he’d barely touched since Boris had come through the door, before the other man could reply he’d continue, disinterestedly: “As a test run or whatever.”
“Yeah.” Boris agreed, shifting on the sofa as the conversation began to make him feel restless. As if reading the room, Yuriy glanced at his watch before getting to his feet, prompting Boris to raise his eyebrow slightly before asking: “Leaving so soon?”
“I have plans this evening.” Was the simple reply as Yuriy moved across the room to retrieve his jacket from the otherwise empty coat rack by the door.
“Are you insane? What the hell are you doing going out on Valentine's D—“ Oh he thought: “—You’ve met someone.” Boris concluded, watching as Yuriy straightened his back
“I have.” He replied simply, not turning to look at the man on the sofa behind him.
“Neat.” Boris said awkwardly, his eyes staring at the other man's back as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, thinking about how in the past few months both Sergei and Ivan had commented that Yuriy seemed healthier, happier, and more cognizant lately.
“I’ll see you Saturday.” Yuriy's voice came from the door as he looked back at Boris, his hand resting on the already turned handle, waiting to push it open and make his exit.
“See you Saturday.” Boris confirmed with a slight nod as he watched the man look away from him and retreat from the tiny apartment.
Boris remained frozen for a moment, before leaning forward, setting the bottle on the floor and resting his head in his hands. He exhaled loudly, a bitter laugh followed as his hands twisted into fists pulling at his hair slightly. It was complicated, it was stupid, he was happy, he was agonized.
Their relationship had been long beyond reconciliation, every altercation between them had just further driven a resentful wedge between them, and it had started long before it had ended. By the time it was finally over, there was nothing left to salvage from the charred remains of their relationship, Boris hadn’t even been sure he’d ever be able to look Yuriy in the face again without wanting to put him in the hospital or worse. And it all had come from one thing, they had all moved forward and Yuriy had remained the same, unwilling to change, unwilling to be helped, always fucking unwilling.
And yet, at some point while Boris was consumed with overwhelming animosity towards his once best friend, and completely blinded by his disdain for everything Yuriy had ruined, their friends had began to comment that things seemed different, that he was disappearing less, that he was drinking less, that he was more himself again, and Boris had ignorantly thought, it was just wishful thinking from two people desperate not to watch someone they loved die.
Because he had been there, he had seen it at its worst, behind closed doors and away from everyone else, he had watched the vestiges of their past consume Yuriy and turn him into an empty shell with no future but pain and death, and no desire to escape it.
But something had changed, while Boris was avoiding Yuriy, consumed by rage and regret he had failed to notice that someone else had appeared, who without any second thought jumped right into the madness and chaos of Yuriy’s inner world and steadfast and stubbornly remained until he was able to finally reach him and take his hand and pull him out of the nightmare that had consumed his every waking moment.
And Boris was happy, relieved even, that Yuriy had finally found something, someone, that he felt was worth fighting for…
But damn if it didn’t hurt that that thing hadn’t been him.
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