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mechanicalowls · 2 months ago

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Unlovable

a terrornoss one shot

ao3 link

warnings: smut (so don't read if you're under 17), emetophobia, hurt/comfort, loss of a parent, self esteem issues, brief internalized homophobia and the whole m*ni l*dd ordeal

summary: brian michael hanby had a fear of commitment. brian michael hanby had been forcibly thrust into a black hole that was seemingly endless. and brian michael hanby had convinced himself he was unlovable.

fic below the cut:

When he was younger, Brian often found emotional investment wasn't his strong suit. With his parents being older when they had him, they, especially his dad, were pretty old fashioned with how they raised their kids. Men were supposed to be strong, valiant protectors of their families. Men didn't get sad or cry. That was a girl thing.

Tangentially, that meant, at least in Brian's not-fully-developed brain at the time, that men didn't get lovey dovey, or romantic, or doting. That was just out of the question. It wasn't something he learned from his parents, but he also wasn't exactly told otherwise either.

As such, by the time he was a rough lad, roaming the pubs and clubs of Dublin in his college years, he didn't put much thought into who he bedded. So long as she was pretty and had nice tits, he couldn't care less about her feelings or personality. They were always one night stands anyway, no meaningful connection would ever come from banging a chick from the bar because she was the first one willing to glance his way.

He always bailed before his ladies awoke in the morning. Not out of spite or shame, and it wasn't until much later in life that he realised what it was.

The fear of commitment.

Yes, that was an unfortunate side effect of his somewhat stunted emotional growth. Or, lack of emotional maturity, that was a better term for it. In his dumb, college kid brain, he never considered how the women he broke drywall with would feel after waking to cold sheets and sometimes a missing tube of toothpaste. As long as he got his rocks off, he was satiated. With as high of libido as Brian had, especially back then, he was a borderline sex pest in that regard.

It wasn't until a certain youtuber slid into his DM's one day that he really took a step back to evaluate his personality as a whole. He wasn't exactly a complete dickhead, but he wasn't a saint either. Seeing that message from someone he admired and looked up to so much in his inbox shattered something in Brian. His ego, his pride maybe.

He vividly remembered the way his chest tightened as he read the message; a request to play together. He vividly remembered his trembling fingers skipping over keys as he attempted to formulate the perfect response, keeping his “cool guy that does a decent impression” persona intact. He vividly remembers pacing around his tiny bedroom, nervously awaiting the canadian’s response.

When he finally got into a call with said canadian, Brian was over the moon with idol worship, and desperate to remain cool and aloof to the fact that people who were on the level of Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez to him were willing to talk, play and record with him.

Especially Vanoss himself.

Yes, Mr. Evan Fong was, for a while, an unknown quantity. He didn't even know what the man looked like and he was already in too deep by the time that fateful Skype call happened. Brian found that something just felt different at the end of that call, long after Nogla and Tyler and Lui had bid their goodbyes. He and Evan stayed in that call for such a long time, Brian had barely noticed he hadn't slept. In fact, it was Evan who had questioned him about his sleep schedule.

A warm, fuzzy feeling sizzled in his chest as he and Evan wasted away in that call, talking about everything and nothing all at once. Talking about hockey, football, college, their childhoods, youtube, their families, their favorite foods, literally everything. The connection Brian felt with Evan in that call was undeniable, and for many years Brian wondered what that feeling was; moreover, if Evan felt it too.

From that moment on, they were practically inseparable. Brian would drop everything to come record with Evan. Hell, he'd even been fired for the man's sake. For so long, he couldn't place the precise emotion he felt for the younger man. It was just “The Evan Feeling”. Sure, he soon gained good connections with the others, with Marcel, and Nogla, and Anthony and everyone else, but none of their connections felt even remotely similar to the one he held with Evan.

When the shorter man finally did a face reveal in 2014, Brian had felt the tides of “The Evan Feeling” shift. Finally having a face to put to a name was a surreal experience. The only other member of their group more secretive than Evan about his face was Delirious. Despite the video being public and uploaded at Evan's discretion, Brian felt like he was intruding on a private conversation. Like he had accidentally overheard a secret at a party.

He had frowned at Evan's apology for “disappointing people”, whatever that was supposed to mean. Evan was not bad looking in the slightest. Brian would scarcely admit it, but he found the man to be very attractive. He was handsome in the way a college gym bro was. And those muscles really did something for him.

Nevertheless, Brian was a straight man from Dublin, Ireland, living his life, banging chick's with huge racks every other weekend. He banished any of those thoughts to a deep part of his brain. Not only was he not gay, but he was having those thoughts about someone he considered one of his best friends for christ's sake. It was (he assumed) precisely why Evan had stayed hidden behind a camera for so long. He didn't want people ogling him for his looks, preferring when people ogled his sick ninja defusing skills.

As the years went on and the times had changed, Brian found that he never could quite shake “The Evan Feeling”, no matter how he tried. Over the years, their banter evolved from the average conversations you'd have with the boys to something he later recognized as playful flirting. Brian loved to make Evan bashful and sheepish, and, in tandem, Evan adored getting Brian all riled up.

At that point, Brian hadn't had a date in a long while, having sworn off the practice after having his heart broken by that old Subway manager. At least he and Evan were in the same boat and had yet another thing in common in that regard. The poor man hadn't had a steady girlfriend since he graduated high school.

He supposed that's where all the flirting between them came from, a mutual understanding of each other's lack of romance. Nearing the summer of 2016, just before PAX East that year, Brian finally came to terms with the fact that he might not have been as straight as he thought he was. He absolutely refused to confide this in anyone, especially not Evan, and even more especially not any member of his family. They weren't full on hateful, but he did know his dad often called bisexual people “greedy”; even if it was a joke, Brian didn't want to find out if it wasn't one.

Around that same time, Brian finally made the big decision to fly to America for that convention. He'd finally be meeting all of his friends, his brothers, in person for the very first time. He kept it on the down low, openly lamenting the fact that he'd miss yet another opportunity to meet his friends face to face. He found out from Brock what hotel they'd all be staying at that time around, and booked a room as soon as he could to snag it before the convention.

He'd heard from Nogla that the lanky irishman had been tasked with meeting their friends at the door to the hotel, so that way they'd all be able to have dinner together right away. Brian wasn't sure why Nogla was the one chosen for that job instead of, say, Brock or Marcel, but whatever. The moment Brian set foot near the front of that hotel, he saw Nogla's face light up. Brian would always hate to admit it, but his friend gave a great hug. It was a nice, friendly embrace that left him less anxious than he had been just a moment prior.

Nogla finally let him go inside after chattering his ear off for fifteen minutes straight. Upon finding his way to the hotel restaurant and finding a table with several friendly faces all talking and laughing, Brian sauntered up and made his presence known.

To say he received a warm welcome would be an understatement.

Marcel was up in a flash, practically bursting at the seams with excitement as he all but strangled Brian in a bear hug. Brock was next, giving him an embrace similar to the one Nogla had. Then Tyler, and Anthony, and Scotty, and Lui, and Craig. And at last, the man he'd been the most eager (and nervous) to meet in person gingerly made his way over to greet his friend.

The sudden wave of electricity he had felt when Evan hugged him was undeniable. As much as he liked the hugs he'd received from all his friends that day, his brain stalled at the thought of the strong, warm embrace from the shorter man. He clapped a hand on Evan’s shoulder, making a joke about just how muscular the man was. To his surprise and delight, Evan (and the table) erupted into laughter. The canadian rested his hand upon Brian's back, and in that moment he wondered.

He'd wondered if Evan felt that jolt of lightning buzz through him too.

He'd wondered if Evan would hug him again.

He'd wondered if Evan had “The Brian Feeling”.

Half an hour later, Luke finally arrived on behalf of Delirious, and they were finally all set to order. Brian had taken a seat right next to Evan. The pure contentment he felt as he listened to and bantered with his friends like they'd known each other since birth was something he didn't know he had been sorely missing. He often caught himself staring at Evan, of course. He knew the man was shy, but he just couldn't help himself.

Having actual, physical proof that Evan was a real person, living, laughing, breathing, was a hurdle Brian just couldn't seem to leap. He discreetly attempted to memorize every little thing about his friend. How his chest puffed out when he laughed, how his eyes shimmered when someone addressed him, how his fingers curled around the fork as he ate.

Ok, maybe he had been a bit of a creep at that point. But, he'd also caught Evan staring at him in turn; maintaining eye contact until the younger man broke away. If Brian weren't sitting so close, hell, if the lights were any more dim, he would've missed the way Evan's cheeks tinged red when he was caught staring.

During one of those instances, when Evan looked away with a blush, Brian found Brock looking at him, an eyebrow raised and a knowing smirk plastered on his lips. The man glanced between the irishman and the canadian, widening his smirk when Brian made a face at him.

Near the end of their meal, Brian had rested his palm on the table as he listened to Anthony and Tyler discuss the evening plans. In all honesty, despite wanting nothing more than to spend even more time with his friends, Brian would've killed a man for a room temperature beer and a nice, debatably soft hotel bed to rest his travel weary bones upon. As he pondered his own evening activities (or lack thereof), he had felt something nudge his pinky. Looking down, he found Evan's knuckles settled to the side of his own; pressing against Brian's hand ever so slightly.

They were curled around his now empty glass of soda. Feeling eyes on him, Brian looked up at the face the fingers belonged to. Evan was watching him, assessing his reaction. The irishman had given him a small smile and a shrug, leaving his hand where it was upon the worn, wooden table.

Before they all bid their goodbyes, Brian had managed to jot down the rooms everyone stayed in. Evan had his own room, as did Luke and Craig. Lui and Nogla roomed together, and Marcel, Scotty, Anthony and Tyler all squeezed into a two bed room. Brian had pitied the poor housekeeper who'd be cleaning that crime scene. Brock also had his own room, which is where he called Brian to before he could set foot in his own room.

“Alright, what's the deal with you and Evan?” He'd grilled, crossing his arms. Brian had gone red at the bluntness of that.

“W-what? Nothin’, nothin’, just a bit of banter is all. He's ‘m best friend, Brock.” Brian replied, cursing the sudden stutter. Brock raised a brow at him.

“Uh-huh. Yea, that's why you two haven't stopped staring at each other all night and holding hands, right?” Brock posited. Brian would swear he could've heard a pin drop at that.

“H-hey! We have not been holdin’ hands!” Brian snapped back. Brock had merely raised a brow at his defensiveness.

“Right,” the taller man had said, holding the i for a beat. “Well, just… just don't hurt Evan, ok? He hasn't had anyone like that in a long time. Behave yourself and treat him right, alright?” The older man had almost chastised. Brian remembered burning up at that; at Brock's nonchalance about the complicated relationship between he and Evan.

Brian doesn't remember much after that point, he promised Brock that whatever happened, Evan wouldn't get hurt. At some point he had stumbled back to his hotel room in a daze, heart rattling against his ribcage and echoing in his ears. He passes out in bed shortly thereafter, not even taking his jeans off and barely remembering to discard his shoes.

Of course, he had dreamed of Evan, it was only natural that the canadian would invade his dreams as well.

The next few days had passed with little to no incident. Brian and Evan had all but danced around each other, maintaining eye contact for extended periods of time, playfully flirting, hands resting upon each other for a bit too long. Brock and Tyler had each thrown them knowing glances. Brian hadn't really wondered how Tyler came to the same conclusion that Brock had, maybe they were that obvious after all.

It all culminated at the end of the week, the last night in the hotel. Besides that first night, Brian had found a lost canadian wandering to his room at 9pm on the dot every night. Brian would let him in, and it was just like those Skype calls all over again. They would talk, and talk, and talk, and talk some more until the early morning when Evan would (reluctantly) bid his friend good night.

Brian had so badly wanted to beg him to stay.

The closest they had gotten was on that Wednesday, when Evan had found Mr. Bean playing on one of the hotel tv's channels. They sat next to each other then, slowly slouching down the bed while giving animated commentary over each episode. As the evening had gone on, however, their words slowly escaped out the open window and into the night, leaving the two men in a comfortable silence only broken by a laugh track.

At some point, the two had dozed off, completely lost in their shared bedspace, body heat, and interests. To this day Brian would never know how long they were out for. Maybe it's best they didn't know. He had been awoken however long later by Evan attempting to shimmy out from his grasp. Brian remembers, even in his bleary, sleep riddled state, going bright red at the realization that he had been spooning the younger man, and had done so unknowingly in his sleep.

As always, Evan had looked reluctant to leave, but he did so anyway. Brian didn't take any offense to it, even at the time. Evan was, and always will be, a nervous wreck when it came to emotional waves he couldn't simply tread. Brian knew the feeling, he was just better at hiding it.

After that night, something had definitely changed in the air between them. Brian would never know the cause, but he didn't really need to know. Suddenly, their playful flirting took a sharp, sexual turn. Jokes about slamming headboards, making each other scream, getting all wet and licking each other clean slowly crept into their normal flirtatious comments until it was all they joked about with each other.

That had done nothing to quell the raised brows and narrowed, knowing eyes of Brock, Tyler, and now Marcel, Luke and Anthony. No one ever spoke up about it, and thus, the sexual tension built up to a breaking point that Saturday.

It was bound to happen eventually.

All that tension and barely contained desire spilled over and coated both men in a thick layer of lust after they finally returned to Brian’s room that night. Despite each man having a little to drink that night, they'd both swear up, down, left and right that they were both as clean as someone getting their seven years sober coin at an AA meeting.

It was a flurry of discarded clothes, undone belts, sweat, bedsheets and open-mouthed kisses that, even in his frenzied state, Brian knew meant something deeper than a one night stand. Brian had taken the lead, doing everything in his power to ensure Evan would get nothing but pleasure and satisfaction from the event, his efforts not going unrewarded later on.

To make a long story short, they both came, and their impending relationship was solidified that evening when Evan settled back against Brian's chest, holding the older man's hand and leaving gentle kisses against his palm.

After that, as soon as he returned to Ireland, Brian made plans with Evan to move out to California. Evan already had a house much too big for one person, and he was willing to do everything a man could do to get his boyfriend to live with him.

After many months of moving and cleaning out his small apartment he'd been occupying for the better part of the decade, Brian finally settled into the Fong estate, and reaped all the benefits that came with it. It was the highest point of his life thus far. He had a job he loved, friends he saw regularly, a nice house, a new puppy Evan had gotten him for Christmas, and a loving, doting boyfriend that could not have enough of him.

It was all too good to be true.

And it was. In a way.

The funny thing is, when you're in a constant state of euphoria, the dreaded feeling of misery hits you twice as hard. It all came crashing down one day in 2018. He, Evan and their dog Ghostie sat on the couch, just soaking in and enjoying each other's presence on a day off. An old Batman cartoon filled the silence of the living room, occasionally interrupted by the snores of Ghostie, snuggled against Evan's legs.

Said man was scrolling through his phone, leaned against Brian's chest. He'd been awfully quiet ever since his attention focused on the device. Brian had his arm around him, occasionally sparing glances at the canadian. Sure, Evan was naturally quiet, but this was almost unnerving.

As if Evan could feel the icy blues burning a hole through his head, Evan shifted, nudging Brian gently to get his attention.

“Hey Bri?” He all but murmured.

“Yea, Ev?” Brian responded, squeezing his shoulder slightly. Evan finally glanced up at him, an uncharacteristically nervous look upon his face. Sensing something serious coming, Brian pressed the mute button and turned his full attention to Evan, petting Ghostie as he did so.

“Ah… Have you, uh, seen this um… this thing that Craig posted?” Evan asked, grabbing a handful of the blanket they shared. Brian gave him a wide-eyed look.

“What thing? What'd he say now?” Brian asked, attempting to keep the dislike for his fellow irishman from his voice.

“He just… he posted this big long thing about me on Twitter. He kept saying things like how much of an ego I have and how rude I am. He just, kept bringing up all these things that happened years ago, and it feels like he's trying to make a callout post or whatever.” Evan explained, his ever present flat affect dipping his words in a hint of sadness.

“What? Let me see.” Brian said, holding out his hand. Sure enough, upon scrolling through the ridiculously long post Craig had made earlier that day, Brian saw how he dragged his boyfriend's name through the dirt. Brian saw right through the faux “respectful” tone the irishman had used while airing his grievances with Evan to the public.

Brian seethed with every word he read, the slanderous claims about his beloved further enraging him. No one, and especially not Craig, had any right to make the, frankly, wrong assessments of Evan's character; especially those people who only recorded with his boyfriend once in a blue moon. Even more especially if the person making those assessments had previously stated he wanted to go his own way and make his own career not riding Evan's coattails. Craig was just trying to start shit, both Brian and Evan knew that.

Mutually, the two men agreed that Evan didn't need to defend himself, as the “evidence” Craig posited was circumstantial at best, and flat out, obvious lies at the worst. Evan was never one to acknowledge internet drama anyway, especially that pertaining to him. However, that same principle didn't apply to Brian. After getting the go-ahead from the man who had dozed off on his chest about an hour prior, Brian began typing his defense of Evan.

It was well worded, and even more well received; the general consensus among fans being that people on Craig's side believed him and thought Brian was white-knighting, and the people on Evan's side thought Craig was just trying to start shit for attention. Brian could've never seen the impending snowball speeding down the hill towards him upon hitting send.

Little did he know, that was all Craig needed to go for the throat. Almost immediately, while the couple dozed upon their couch that evening, a vicious storm brewed. Violent waves of accusations and jealousy battered the sides of Brian's boat as he slumbered. Ginormous crests of lies and deception pelted the deck while he was none the wiser. When Ghostie awoke her owner's later that evening because she was hungry, Evan left to feed the fluff ball while Brian finally soaked in all that had transpired while he had been dead to the world.

Brian didn't want to care about the things Craig said, but the man was dragging his name through the mud more publicly and more violently than he had Evan's. It became clear that he wanted to take Brian down through whatever means necessary, refusing to listen to replies from even Nogla and Tyler. A grim, dark cloud formed over Brian’s head that day, drenching him in stress and desolation as everything came crumbling down. For weeks and weeks and weeks the borderline harassment from Craig and his fans gnawed away at Brian, plunging him into the depths of despair.

Unfortunately, the universe seemed to just have it out for him.

Not even two months into the ordeal and Brian was hit by another landmine. He'd been at his desk, stumbling through editing and emails with a can of Monster clutched in his fist. Ghostie was curled up beneath his feet, acting as a footstool for her depressed human. Evan had let him be that day, and Brian appreciated his borderline psychic ability to read him. He loved the man with all his heart and was basically attached at the hip with him, but on a rare occasion, he just needed to be alone.

It had been dark in his office, the only light sources being the monitors and the small Batman night light plugged in near the door. The room lit up ever so slightly, indicating Evan's entrance. He felt the warm hand on his shoulder, trembling ever so slightly as it squeezed once, then twice. Brian looked up at his boyfriend, removing his headphones as he did so.

Evan looked lost, he had a forlorn look in his eyes that even Brian had scarcely seen. The landline was clutched in his other hand, pressed against his broad chest. Evan said nothing as he placed the phone in Brian's hand and wrapped his arms around his torso, pulling his hands into his sleeves as he did so.

Brian raised the phone up to his ear, and he could hear sobs. Those of his sister.

While it was expected, that didn't diminish the way the color drained from his face. It didn't prevent the nausea rising to his throat. It didn't stop the bile pooling in his gut. It didn't stall the molten lava coursing through his veins. It didn't cut-off the cascades of venom rushing from his tear ducts.

What a cruel world to take his father while he was already losing everything else.

Upon hanging up the phone, Brian couldn't breathe for a moment, and then he could. Too much. Everything was too much. The darkness was too much, the monitor light was too much, the air conditioning was too much, the mugginess of the bathroom was too much. Falling to his knees and clutching the porcelain, Brian threw up. He couldn't remember the last time he vomited. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been sick. He couldn't remember the last time he'd hurt like this.

Evan followed him in shortly after as he dry heaved and gasped for air. The room slowly came back into focus as the soothing hand of his beloved gently escorted him back to the surface. He rubbed circles of comfort into Brian's back, retrieving a washcloth from the cabinet to dab along the irishman's forehead when he had no more bile to eject. Evan swiped the washcloth across the man's lips, tossing it into the laundry basket before encasing Brian in a hug.

Brian's face grew hotter as he sobbed into Evan's chest, staining his sweatshirt with salty tears and snot. The younger man also shook as he quietly cried. Evan readjusted them on the bathroom floor so his back was against the bathtub and Brian was in his lap. Neither knew how long they sat like that, cursing the cruel nature of things out of their control.

Days later, and Brian had been keeping up tabs with his mom and siblings as they planned his father's funeral. Not a day passed where Brian wasn't comatosed. He'd snapped at both Evan and Ghostie, locking himself in his office to mald over everything the world had thrown his way since that goddamn tweet was made.

Evan didn't hold it against him, never even rising to the bait of an argument.

Brian, Evan and Ghostie all traveled to Ireland later that month to attend Brian's dad's funeral. The world seemed grey as the service dragged on, the only source of warmth coming from the calloused hand that hadn't let go of his own pale one since they left home. Upon returning to the States two weeks after that, the couple and their pooch slowly endured the grieving process.

Craig was still dragging Brian's name through the dirt almost every day, and many of their friends had moved onto greener pastures. Sure, they all still played together, but lately, it seemed as though everyone not named Nogla or Brock was just too busy to do any sort of co-op game Evan suggested. Brian wasn't as sick as he had been since the news of his father's passing, but he couldn't say he felt better either.

Depressed. Yea, that's what he was.

His (and Evan's) views had tanked since that godforsaken tweet came out. Brian couldn't even look through Twitter for more than a minute before his irritability took over and he had to resist the urge to bite his phone in half. The only times he left his office was to use the bathroom and take Ghostie for her walks. He hadn't seen his bed in weeks, instead sleeping on the loveseat within the room. Evan would bring him food thrice a day, and the man, plagued with his own waning mental health, had taken to setting up both a dog bed and a sleeping bag upon the floor near the loveseat.

As he did this, Brian insisted he go back to their bedroom, or to at least take his place on the loveseat. Of course, Evan refused, ensuring Brian he was fine. Brian would, begrudgingly drop the topic shortly after, falling asleep as Evan stroked his knuckles with his thumb.

On one day, Brian sat in his office, staring at his desktop background while he stewed in his thoughts. He had already recorded 3 videos that day, sent them off to Clyde and Sal to edit, given a thumbs up to his thumbnail artists sketches, and posted a video. Quiet moments like those were dreaded, Brian was his own worst enemy, the little rat inside his brain chewing away at his fortitude.

A warm hand settled upon his shoulder, slowly carding down his bicep and over across his chest, just above his heart. Brian turned to look up at his boyfriend, heart swelling as he did so. A small, scheming smirk was plastered on his lips as his hand trailed along Brian's collarbones. Evan leaned down to connect their lips, a sigh escaping Brian’s nose as they did. It was gentle and chaste, but that didn't last long as Evan spun Brian's chair around to plant his ass upon the irishman's thighs.

Brian rested his hands upon Evan's hips, kneading into the flesh left exposed by his clothing choice. He wore this black, cropped Saliva muscle shirt, and a pair of baggy, grey sweatpants that closed around his ankles. Brian knew precisely what the combination meant, specifically what Evan wanted.

The two broke away and Brian sighed heavily as Evan got to work latching onto his neck. Brian couldn't help the small moan that escaped his throat as Evan nipped a specific spot near his jugular, sucking what would most likely be a gnarly hickey into the spot. Brian could feel the canadian grinning against his throat, grinding down upon the older man's lap. Through both Evan's sweats and his own shorts, Brian felt his dick perking up at the attention after being neglected for months. Evan leaned back, a glazed look in his eyes as he palmed Brian through the cotton.

“Wanna, y'know…” Evan asked, biting his lip as he rubbed small circles against Brian's crotch. The irishman swallowed.

“I don-... I dunno, Ev. I don't really have the energy to…” Brian mumbled, the horrors of not being able to please his lover exploding within his mind. Evan let out an airy chuckle at that.

“Let me take care of it, then. Let me take care of you,” Evan stated, wrapping his arms around Brian's shoulders and pulling him impossibly closer. “Let me take care of you, Brian. Please.” The younger man pleaded, the deep, sultry tone in his voice acting as ambrosia for the man beneath him. Brian swallowed again, giving a small nod. Evan smiled, giving a gentle kiss to his man's cheeks before lifting off Brian's thighs and pulling the man out of his chair at last.

Evan kept their fingers intertwined as he led Brian out of his office and towards their bedroom for the first time in months. The feeling of being out of place in his own home was not lost on the man, taking in how little things had changed during his absence. He was mortified at how neglectful he'd been, not only of his home, but of his family. Evan had been so understanding and patient with his struggles, and Brian had snapped at him more times in the last two months than he had ever in their relationship.

What kind of partner was he?

Brian came to when he felt the backs of his knees hit their bed. Evan gently pushed him down onto the mattress, indicating for him to scooch up to the pillows. He did, and the shorter man crawled on top of him, a seductive smirk gracing his lips and a warm hand cupping Brian's cheeks. They kissed again, and Brian replanted his clammy palms against Evan's hips. He felt Evan’s messy locks fall against his forehead as the canadian deepened the kiss, licking across Brian’s bottom lip. Brian opened his mouth, allowing Evan's tongue to batter his around like a punching bag.

Evan ground down against Brian's crotch again, wrenching a whimper from the irishman's throat. He felt Evan smirk against his mouth before he broke away, a thin trail of saliva connecting their flushed lips. Evan tugged at Brian's hoodie collar, causing him to raise his arms absentmindedly to give his boyfriend some leeway with removing it. While he was into it, Brian found he just couldn't focus. His head was too full of those wicked thoughts that had been plaguing him for half a year at that point.

While he still responded to everything Evan did, he felt like a machine. Giving the desired outcome to specific actions taken. The only indication that this was doing anything for him was the prominent arousal, straining against Evan's navel as he sucked more hickies into Brian's damp, pale flesh. It felt good, of course it did. The intimacy they'd been sharing since that night in the hotel room was something Brian treasured deeply. He treasured everything about Evan deeply.

The way his long, dark locks of hair fell into his eyes, the sparkle of the chocolate brown irises that would always gaze up at him so lovingly. The small, dirt mustache gracing Evan's upper lip. The flush his skin would bare when Brian so much as smiled at him. The dark circles Brian had so badly wanted to kiss away from beneath his eyes. The ever present mischievous smirk that crossed his lips whenever either of them initiated sex. The way his teeth grazed down through Brian's red tinged chest hair, leaving open mouthed, wet kisses all down his torso as he lowered himself further and further. The pace at which he slid the irishman's shorts down his legs, underwear in tow. The way he slowly and deliberately bobbed his head up and down Brian's cock, leaving a generous amount of spit in his wake.

Before he knew it, Evan had released his cock, climbing up onto his thighs once more. The canadian kissed him in a way that exerted so much love and passion that Brian felt his heart ping-pong between his gut and his throat. Evan took his hands in his own, dirty talking the whole time. Any other time, Brian would be taking charge, making his beloved eat his bratty demands and pleas, but Brian could barely hear him over the echoes in his head. As Evan guided his hands to his waistband and down his eternally seductive hips and thighs, Brian listened to those nagging snarls plaguing his eardrums.

“Look at the angel above you,” they growled. “You don't deserve to even be in the same zip code as him. You're not worthy of the pleasures he's given to you. You haven't earned anything.” They howled viciously as Brian watched his angel shimmy out of his sweats.

“You've done nothing but mope for months because of your dead daddy and dying career. You're an awful lover to someone who's done so much for you. Someone who thinks the world of you.” The wretched voices barked while Evan lined himself up with Brian's somehow still attentive cock. He still held that seductive smile upon his face as he gazed so lovingly at Brian. He felt a lump forming in his throat.

“It's a wonder he's still with you after all this time. You've never been good enough for him. You're a pathetic, whiny, one-trick pony. You really think you're worthy of such a being's love?” They snarled. Brian whimpered and threw his head back as Evan finally sank down onto his cock. His warm, slick insides encased Brian like a gun in a velveteen holster. Evan's hands grasped his biceps, digging his nails in gently while he moaned at the feeling of being filled. After only a moment, he began moving his hips, gently bouncing up and down Brian's cock as he worked up to a steady pace.

Finally, Brian pried his eyes open, barely holding back the thrashing river behind them. Above him, glowing in the magenta tinted room, was a divine saint. His gorgeous partner panted slightly as he rode his cock with experience. His heavenly gaze was fixated on Brian's pathetic face, contorted with pleasure and ecstasy. The absolute beauty of his angel made more tears well up behind Brian's tired eyes. The pure, unfiltered love and adoration radiating off of Evan as he kept eye contact with the irishman was almost overwhelming.

“You're not worthy of his love. He's too good for you.” Those ghastly voices hissed in his head. It was too much for Brian to bear, finally being convinced by those thoughts. He flung his head back and swiftly planted his arm against his eyes as the tears finally spilled over. Evan already thought him weak and pathetic, no need to add more fuel to this fire by letting him see him cry.

He felt Evan falter a bit at that, slowing to a tantalizing pace that wrenched a miserable whimper from Brian's throat. He felt Evan's sweaty palm gently grasp his arm to move it from his face, but Brian held firm, even more so as the tears dripped down his cheeks in his hair. He bit his lip and gulped down a sob, causing Evan to stop his movement entirely.

“Bri?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper. Brian shook his head and arm, barely able to contain another sob. In doing so, more pitiful whimpers and whines sounded from his throat, which only spurred his tears on. With both hands, Evan pried his arm from his eyes, taking in the sight of Brian's splotchy, soaked skin. Brian kept his eyes closed, refusing to tarnish his divine creature with his revolting gaze.

What a horrible, loathsome person he was. Ruining his lover's moment of pleasure, making him worry. Brian wasn't worthy of his concern. He was a mere insect in the presence of a being beyond human comprehension. He didn't deserve the gentleness of Evan's calloused fingers cupping his cheeks as he sobbed. He didn't deserve the delicate kisses of his beloved as he leaned down to mouth away his tears.

He didn't earn the cascading love that washed over him as Evan cradled his head to his chest, wiping away excess tears upon his shirt. He didn't deserve the sweet kisses left upon the crown of his head.

He wasn't, and had never been, good enough for Evan.

Yet…

Despite everything, despite all the controversy they'd faced, the loss of loved ones, the strains their relationship was facing, and the prison cells each of their minds had become, Evan was still here with him. Doing everything in his power to love someone who had convinced himself he was unlovable at the snap of a finger.

After a while, the sobs died in his throat, raw from the emotional toll. His tears still fell, but not as a downpour. They were more akin to a gentle drizzle, one that would signal the end of a typhoon. At some point, Brian had clutched a handful of Evan's shirt into his fist. The fabric was damp with sweat, from both men most likely.

“I love you so much, Bri,” Evan spoke, breaking the silence. “I love you more than I can ever show you.” He mused, resting his forehead against Brian's own. Brian gulped down another sob, one of those nagging voices sinking it's teeth into Brian's brain stem once more; growling out doubts of Evan's claims, trying to turn his thoughts back to the wicked ones that had infested his mind.

But Evan shooed it away with ease, connecting their lips for a deep, meaningful kiss. Brian whimpered at it, at the way Evan just so unabashedly, unashamedly loved him so easily.

Too soon, Evan broke away and began lifting himself off of Brian's dick, grimacing as he did so. In a moment of panic, Brian grasped his thighs, stopping the canadian in an instant.

“We don't have to keep going.” Evan said, tracing his thumb over Brian's knuckles.

“No, no. Please, Ev. Please keep goin’. I… Please.” Brian begged, doing himself no favors by sounding any less pathetic. Evan cocked his head to the side and smiled at him, raising a brow as he leaned down to breathe Brian's air once more.

“Alright.” He murmured, pecking Brian's lips before he sat up again and slowly but surely returned to his pace.

Brian kept his hands upon his boyfriend's thighs, watching in wonder as the man skillfully rode his cock as he had many times in the past. Brian rubbed circles into the strong legs that snared his waist, finally feeling no shame for his moans as Evan almost parroted his sounds of pleasure.

Brian felt his orgasm building up, and he was sure Evan knew it too, based on the way the irishman's hips bucked up to meet with Evan's downward thrusts. Evan threw his head back to relieve the hair from his eyes. He trailed his hands up and down Brian's chest, tangling his fingers in his chest hair and grazing his nipples. Brian almost came at that moment, and made the split second decision to take Evan's leaking cock into his hand and begin stroking.

The younger man moaned like a professional pornstar at that, which sent Brian over the edge at last. Evan followed closely behind, spilling over Brian's fist and stomach as the older man coated his insides in hot spurts of cum. After a moment where they each caught their breath, Evan finally pulled off of Brian's dick, which flopped between his legs after being spent. The canadian made quick work of Brian's lips, kissing him until they were raw and swollen.

Normally, Brian would be the one kissing Evan's lips until they were bruised, but having his boyfriend do it to him was a welcome change. Evan finally rolled off of him after having his fill (for the moment). He climbed off the bed, slightly limping as he toddled to the bathroom, which Brian took great pride in being the cause. When he returned, he ran a damp washcloth over Brian's belly, cleaning the spunk and sweat from his flesh. Evan tossed it over his shoulder and gracefully chambered back onto the mattress.

He nudged Brian until the taller man rolled over onto his side, allowing Evan to slot in behind him and bury his face into his pale back. Much like Evan had during their first time together, Brian took Evan's palm between his fingers and planted tender kisses along every line and callous.

“I love you, Brian. Don't ever think that I don't. No matter what happens, I love you, unconditionally.” Evan spoke up from behind him, flexing his fingers against Brian's mouth.

Something clicked in his head at that word.

Unconditionally.

Brian had always had a fear of commitment. It's what encouraged his one-night stands in his younger years. It's what kept him awake at night, long before any sort of shit hit the fan. It's something that darkened his thoughts as he stewed alone in the dark, answering emails.

But, in that very moment, the fear vanished. Like it had never even been there. All that remained was the adoration he felt for his beloved boyfriend. The man who was slowly dozing off behind him. The man who convinced him he was lovable. The man who declared his unconditional love for him. The man who understood him like no one else before.

“Ev, will ye marry me?” Brian blurted out, heart hammering away at his ribcage and trachea. Evan didn't stiffen, he didn't tense, he didn't move a muscle. Instead, Brian felt him exhale and press a kiss to his bare back.

“Mm yea, sure,” he mumbled sleepily, barely containing a yawn. “Just ask me again tomorrow so I don't forget.” He said, words muffled by Brian's back and Evan's slowly departing consciousness.

Brian's skin was set ablaze at that. Even if he'd have to ask again when Evan was fully awake and aware of what was being asked of him, there was no longer any doubt in his mind that his answer would remain the same. Giddy like a little kid in a Toys-R-Us, Brian settled back against Evan's chest, loosening his shoulders and intertwining their fingers in the process.

He closed his weary eyes, and was greeted by colorful dreams of a fairy tale wedding best suited for his angel.

He finally felt better.

~~~~

“Bri, Brian. Bri, wake up.” Evan whispered, nudging him awake. Peeling his eyes open, Brian squinted at the outline of his boyfr- fiancé in the dark of their bedroom.

“Yea, wha, what. Wha’s wrong?” He slurred out as his mouth woke up slowly.

“Ghostie got into your laundry basket again. She's got a pair of your boxers in the living room.” Evan snickered, smirking as Brian's eyes flew open wide and he scrambled to get out of bed.

“Oh god dammit! Ghostie! You slut! Gimme my damn underwear!” Brian cried, chasing the samoyed thief down the hallway.

Evan leaned against the wall, watching his irishman re-enact a Tom and Jerry skit with their dog, who almost strategically dodged Brian's hands as he grabbed for his boxers. She was a professional underwear robber at that point. As Brian cursed the ball of fluff, who almost taunted her owner with defiant huffs and barks, Evan laughed, to Brian's dismay.

He was glad he'd said yes. He could live like this for the rest of his life.

#brians experience with grief and depression in this one is inspired by my own experiences with it btw #losing your mom does that to you unfortunately #but this was very therapeutic to write #mechanicalowls #terrornoss #vanoriser #terroriser #vanossgaming #fanfic

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