#ryan brenner x reader imagine

[the-blind-assassin-12]

This angel.

Hi Dani! Oh this angel indeed. I love him oh so much... unfortunately he is not in for fun times in Part Six of Passing Through but uh... here’s five anyway- 

Shit. You followed immediately, the toes of your boots finding the heel prints of his in the snow. “Ryan, w-”

He stopped suddenly, causing you to nearly run into him, and turned his head so that you could just make out the profile of his face in the glow of the streetlights. A puff of vapor came from his lips as he let out a breath, and you watched him curl his gloved hands into tight fists at his sides. His nose wrinkled as he sniffed, and for a few fleeting seconds you were afraid that he was just going to shake his head and keep walking.

-

send me an ask with a character from my masterlist (you can specify the series if there is more than one for that character) and i will respond with 5 lines from a corresponding wip.

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

The thief [Ben Barnes x Reader] - Requested

Title: The thief Pairing: Ben Barnes x Female!Reader Word count: 5.3k Published: 8 April 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Warning: Food, Drinks Summary: Working as a “prop-girl” beside Ben has its ups and downs. He is a blessing to work with and an amazing friend to be around, but having feelings for him quite often distracts you from work and makes it hard to focus. Especially when you have a little thief on your hand who keeps stealing your work, doubling your already frustrating problems. Request: [x]

“Please please please write more Ben Barnes! I live for your Ben fics 🤩 Something where Ben is cheeky maybe?” - Anonymous

Bingo: [x] [x] This is part of my Make me feel Bingo Card by @girl-next-door-writes and Band--psychos 1.5k Followers Bingo Card by @band--psycho

Square filled: Drunken Confession [ @girl-next-door-writes ]

Square filled: Follower Prompt [ @band--psycho ]

Ben Barnes and Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

Make me feel Bingo Masterlist | Real People Masterlist

Band--psychos 1.5k Followers Bingo Masterlist

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Working behind the scenes of a movie set has always been what you dreamed of. You were never quite determined enough to be a director, a producer or a script writer, nor did you have the passion for it, but you certainly had an aesthetic view that just fit perfectly to find the right objects for particular scenes. Therefore, you became the prop-girl. Of course, you had an official title, property assistant to be exact, but seemingly everyone preferred the prop-girl title and after years of fighting it, you just gave in. That was the least of your problems after all.

The amount of effort put into all those blockbuster movies sometimes sucked your soul out. Considering the huge amount of work you have put in, you never really looked at it as a job. You loved what you were doing even if people sometimes looked down on you for being “just” the prop-girl. Even though you had some unpleasant encounters with some of Hollywood’s sweethearts, it never discouraged you, because amongst all the rotten apples, there were always those that made you just a little happier, a little giddier, a little more excited about a new day.

There was a certain person who ticked all the boxes in brightening your day and you often caught yourself staring at him shamelessly. His positivity, refreshing personality and banter always caught you off guard and for mere seconds you even forgot to pay attention to the tasks you were supposed to be completing. You knew you were good at your job, hell you were one of the best, but seemingly Ben’s presence set you back on quite a few occasions.

As you were watching him act out a scene along with his co-star Amber Rose Revah, you tried to focus on organising a dining table for his upcoming scene, but you just couldn’t concentrate when Ben walked around the room half naked with only a towel covering the lower half of his body. No sane person could have paid attention to anything beside Ben. He walked across the set with a straight back, a wide and happy grin across his face, securely holding the top of his towel around his waist. Even if you wanted to look away, you couldn’t have possibly forgotten the view. He wasn’t just a great company, but a very handsome one to look at.

“Prop-girl, that table won’t set itself,” you heard a grumpy voice from behind you and quickly started to set the cutleries and plates in an orderly fashion. Knowing you had to work quickly finally diverted your attention from Ben and the steamy scene about to happen. It wasn’t their first time acting out their bedroom scene and each time it got even more heated. The director didn’t seem to be happy with the outcome, so he kept pushing them to do it over and over again. As you arranged the fruits in a small wooden basket, you tried to forget the tiny little weight settling in your stomach, jealousy resurfacing within you. Knowing you had no right to be jealous as a mere friend, you always attempted to mask it.

As you finished setting the table, you walked back to the gigantic prop room and started searching for another set of objects for the same scene. Each day you arranged everything in an orderly fashion, but many of you worked on different scenes, so it was inevitably a mess most of the time and things were never where you left them. You heaved a heavy sigh, trying to calm yourself down, knowing it would take ages to find what you were looking for and a frustrated state would not help your case.

“Hey, prop-girl, is the scene ready?” you heard the same grumpy voice again. It was your boss, Jerry who seemed to have a grudge against you even though you never talked back to him or went against his orders.

“Not yet, I’m trying to find the cushions for the sofa,” you replied quickly, searching on the shelves, the floor, even in the bin bags that you used to store curtains, tablecloths and bedding sets. “Ah, here,” you exclaimed excitedly as you rushed back to the set, arranging the cushions on the sofa and the armchair beside the table.

“Next time try to be quicker,” he groaned with a disgusted look on his face and left the room. You grimaced at the man, scrunching your nose, his behaviour irritating you each day just a little more.

“That’s not very professional,” you heard a voice from behind you, making you jump. Placing a hand above your heart, you took deep breaths as you turned around to look at your unexpected visitor, although his voice already gave him away. However, this time, to your disappointment, he was wearing a shirt. “Did I scare you?” he asked with an innocent expression.

“No, I just like jumping,” you retorted in a sarcastic manner, making him chuckle, revealing the little crinkles beside his dark irises.

“Sorry, I meant to surprise you, not scare you,” he apologised with a sheepish smile, one that reassured you his apology was anything but genuine.

“Your face doesn’t match your words,” you replied with a half-smile, knowing you couldn’t be mad at him.

“And I thought I was a better actor,” he huffed in fake annoyance. “I’m a fraud,” he added with a grin. But then his expression changed to a more serious one and although he was wearing a smile, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m curious. Why do you let him talk to you like that?” he asked, his smile completely disappearing.

“Ben—,” you sighed as you called his name. “it’s complicated,” you tried to avoid the subject, but he didn’t seem to want to let it go just yet.

“You don’t have to argue, you could just tell him that the way he talks to you makes you uncomfortable,” you knew he just wanted to help, but even the thought of having a conversation with Jerry was tiring. Overthinking was one of your strongest personality traits and to get into a confrontational situation, you needed to mentally prepare, possibly practice different scenarios in which you’d act out what you’d say and how he could react. The simple thought of putting so much effort into such a small issue discouraged you already.

“It’s not that big of a deal. He is just grumpy,” you replied. “Honestly, I don’t want to argue, and I know him, he has been my boss for months and it’s not the first time I am working with him. Sure, he is inconsiderate and fairly annoying, but he is good at his job, he is just not good at communication,” you added.

“That’s not really an excuse, is it?” Ben asked with a frown. “He is in a leading position. He should learn how to communicate, how to manage his people. Mood should not be an issue on a daily basis,” he groaned, dissatisfied by your logic.

“I love that you are so worried, but I’m a big girl, I’m quite sure I can take care of myself,” you offered him a reassuring smile and walked past him to finish the last touches in the room.

“A strong and independent woman,” he chuckled. “You never fail to mention,” he added, making you let out a quiet snort. You could feel his eyes on you as you were moving around, taking care of the smallest little details, the angle of the napkins, the bows on the curtains, the corners of the cushions. As you finished the table, or so you thought you did, you frowned at the sight of the empty wooden basket in the middle of the table. You could clearly recall filing it up with fruits, but they were nowhere to be found.

“I’m telling you we have a thief in this place,” you huffed, throwing your hands in the air, earning a chuckle from Ben.

“What’s the problem?” he asked with a wide grin across his face, his happiness at your misfortune slightly irritating you.

“Each time I use real food as props, someone eats them. This is not a restaurant for god’s sake,” you whined as you headed back to the kitchen to pick up another batch of apples and pears. Ben followed you diligently as if he had no better things to do. You quickly halted and turned around, causing Ben to run into you. He got hold of your waist, steading both of you, before you could have fallen to the ground.

“Why did you stop so abruptly?” he asked with a deep frown, his face ever so close to yours. For a moment you forgot how to talk, how to articulate not even a sentence, but a single word. Your heart was beating in your throat, your pulse rushed through your veins, whilst your chest decided to ignore all the air you so desperately tried to inhale in the slowest of pace. Quickly scolding yourself, you collected all your strength and opened your mouth to talk.

“Why do you keep following me? Don’t you have somewhere to be?” you asked, shaking your head with a suspicious smile, trying to mask how much his closeness affected you, whilst being curious about his intentions.

“Not right now,” he said as he stepped back, watching you, studying you, his gaze penetrating yours, making you slightly flustered. You could feel your cheeks heat up at his intense gaze, starting your heart off in an even quicker pace. Ben was anything but a good influence on your physical and mental health. If it wasn’t your heart going mad for him, then your mind betrayed you.

“Well then find something,” you added, ruder than you wished you had. Trying to regain your self-control, you turned around and continued to walk towards the kitchen.

“I did,” he replied quickly as he started following you. “I’m assisting you,” he chuckled, earning a heavy sigh from you. As much as you enjoyed his company, his presence was anything but helpful when you were supposed to be concentrating on your work. You shook your head in a reply and as you arrived at the kitchen you picked up the fruits you needed and brought them back to the set, placing them where they were supposed to be before someone decided to stuff themselves with the props once again.

“Ben?” you called out to him, earning a humming sound from him. “Would you mind not staring at me?” you asked as you turned around, leaning against the table with your arms folded in front of your chest.

“I’m not staring. I’m observing,” he replied with a mischievous smirk.

“It’s the same thing,” you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t possibly hide the tiny smile in the corner of your lips. He certainly had a way with words and sometimes it made you feel as though you were losing against him in a battle. “Please, just go and do something. You will have to film the next scene soon,” you added, begging him to give you some space to be able to concentrate on anything but him for a second.

“Fine, I actually have to revise some of the scripts,” he grimaced, although you knew he loved practicing his lines, he loved his job after all.

“Do you want me to wait for you after you finish?” you asked and the wide, enthusiastic grin spreading across his face, made you return his expression. His smile was powerful and whenever he was happy it seemed to be affecting everyone around him, including you.

“Sure, we will finish in a couple of hours,” he nodded and waved at you as he walked back to his trailer. It wasn’t a rare event that you waited for one another and whilst you knew he only thought of it as friends hanging out, for you they meant more. Being with Ben felt like hope, even if deep down you knew you were to remain friends. It hurt, it often left you wondering how you would be able to get over him, but in the end, just being beside him made you the happiest you have ever felt, and you didn’t want to lose that even if you had to stay just friends.

*

It was rather dark and chilly outside by the time Ben finished. As you looked at his trailer and his silhouette appeared from time to time behind the closed curtain of his window, you knew he was rushing to get ready. You knew that the shooting never finished in time, but you still waited, because even if you could only spend half an hour with him, it was more than worth it.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologised as he stepped out of his trailer, closing the door behind him. Half of his jacket was hanging on his side, whilst his other arm already slipped into the other sleeve. His hair was a mess and the belt of his trouser was undone. He was anything but ready to leave.

“I honestly don’t mind waiting, especially when you look like a mess,” you giggled at his state.

“Not funny. I didn’t expect to finish so late,” he replied as he slipped his arm into his sleeve and did his belt.

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” you smiled gently, reassuring him that it was okay. “Do you want to grab something to eat?” you asked as you looked at your watch. “It’s only 10pm so we are not that late,” you added.

“Sure, we can grab something. Maybe we could go to that little pub right beside your flat,” he suggested, and you nodded in agreement. You quite regularly visited that old Irish pub, loving the happy expression on Ben’s face as he explained how much it reminded him of the proper English pubs he grew up around, making him nostalgic. At those times he always told you stories about his past, his childhood, his family and you could have watched endlessly as he drowned in the mass of stories with a cheerful smile and blushing cheeks. You always found it interesting that people barely recognised Ben, but you didn’t mind, because at least you could have him all to yourself even if for just a couple of hours.

It didn’t take you long to arrive at the pub, the taxi Ben called took you there in about 20 minutes. As soon as you stepped inside and took a table, sitting beside each other, you ordered a burger off the menu whilst Ben asked for a fish and chips. Of course, alcoholic beverages could not have been ignored in a pub nor did they stop coming. After the first beer came the second and after the second came the third, but as soon as you reached the 5th round, you couldn’t possibly tell how many you had drank after. You felt tipsy, the pub seemed way too warm for your liking. The music was fairly loud as well, but Ben sat close enough for you to be able to hear him just fine. You have been joking about the silliest things, both of you clearly intoxicated, but daring not to admit your defeat.

“I’m not drunk,” he said, pointing at you with his index finger and a proud smirk across his face. “I’m just very happy,” he added to clarify his state.

“Happiness doesn’t make your words slurred,” you retorted quickly, catching him off guard, chuckling at his surprised expression. He was searching for the right words, almost straining himself in the process, but he didn’t seem to find them.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, but attempted to have a straight face, trying to maintain his pride.

“We are both a bit tipsy, so you are not alone,” you admitted, trying to make him feel a little better, and according to the increasingly growing smile on his face, you seemed to have been successful.

“You just admitted that you are tipsy,” he said with a proud grin. “But I never did,” he chuckled triumphantly.

“You little rascal,” you shook your head, but you had to admit that alcohol and Ben’s closeness was anything but a good influence on your judgment.

“You know, I was wondering about something,” Ben started, catching your attention and curiosity.

“Yeah, what about?” you asked with a questioningly raised brow.

“Why are you so bothered about someone stealing the prop food?” he asked, tilting his head to the side, making you frown. You expected any kind of subjects, but work in that moment. Although it wasn’t unusual, that’s what connected you in the first place.

“Because they are basically eating up my work? Those props are there for a reason. We have a kitchen they can use if they wish to. I have hours of work in those tiny little details so someone stuffing themselves with my work is just frustrating,” you huffed, slightly annoyed at the thought of someone messing with you regardless of it being intentional or unintentional.

“It really does frustrate you, doesn’t it?” he asked as he took a swig of his beer.

“Yes, it’s quite irritating. I just want to know who is doing this to me and why it is so necessary,” you grimaced as you joined Ben in emptying your bottle.

“Have you ever thought about the option that someone might eat your props for the sole purpose of getting your attention?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders.

“What do you mean?” you furrowed in confusion.

“I mean, maybe they want you to think about them,” he tried to clarify.

“Highly unlikely,” you replied with a scoff and disbelieving smile. “And how could I even think about someone whose identity I don’t even know?” you asked, trying to argue his theory.

“Maybe it’s not the identity that they want you to think about, but just their existence. Maybe they like you, but they don’t dare to reveal themselves because they don’t want you to be disappointed or possibly, they don’t want to ruin something. Maybe it’s a childish approach, but they might have thought if they told you that they liked you, it would ruin a friendship,” he said, nonchalantly sipping on his drink, but he didn’t look at you, instead his eyes wandered around the place as if he had never seen it before.

“Ben, do you know who it is?” you asked, being suspicious about his very detailed reply.

“How would I know?” he asked with an innocent expression, making you feel even more curious about his monologue.

“Well, for one you were very detailed in your reply. Two, I just feel like you know more than I do,” you replied with a deep frown across your brows, feeling as though even the last drop of alcohol evaporated from your body.

“I just imagined what I would do if I was that mysterious thief,” he replied in a casual tone, but you just knew him enough to realise that his behaviour was more than unusual. You could have blamed it on the alcohol, his still slightly slurred speech and lack of attention were a sign of him being intoxicated, but there was just something bugging you about him.

“Nah, you know something,” you added as you slipped closer to him in your booth, placing your hand on his arm, your eyes fixed on his, trying to get him to talk with a stern look across your face. Trying to seem serious, you wanted him to spill his secret. You were convinced that you had a firm stance and that Ben would give it up any time.

But he didn’t. Instead he bursted out laughing and reached for your head, petting your hair with a sweet smile across his face. “You’re adorable when you want something,” he chuckled.

“You’re unbelievable,” you huffed, pouting.

“Come on, don’t pout, it makes you even more adorable,” he laughed, his cheeks blushing as he watched your childishly sulking form.

“I’m a grown up woman, I’m anything but adorable,” you retorted in an annoyed tone.

“Then you are cute,” he corrected himself.

“I’m not a child, I’m not cute,” you huffed, feeling frustrated, crossing your arms in front of your chest, showing just how much you despised his adjectives. You sank into the leather seat, trying to hide away from the enjoyment he felt in treating you like a small child.

“What do you want me to call you then, huh?” he asked, but this time there was no smile on his face or a humorous tone in his voice. He looked serious, somewhat determined. “Should I call you sweet and kind?” he asked as he leaned closer. “Or would you prefer pretty? Maybe beautiful and charming?” he continued, instantly decreasing the gap between the two of you after each word. “Or stunning, is that it?” you gulped, feeling startled by the mere inches between you and Ben. You weren’t sure what kind of game he played, but you have never seen him act like that before.

“I—,” words didn’t come, your brain gave up on you. There was just you and Ben’s beautiful dark eyes, blushing cheeks, stubbly jaw and slightly pink lips only inches away from you. That gap he has left between the two of you felt like both physical pain and a life-line you held onto before you could have done something you knew you would have regretted.

“I’m just messing with you,” he chuckled lightly, somewhat awkward as he leaned back into his place, leaving you disappointed as you let out a heavy sigh. For a second you thought he wanted to kiss you, that he was so close because he felt what you did. But soon your foolish thoughts disappeared, realising just how silly they made you look. As if he would ever feel more than friendship, when he was surrounded by hundreds of beautiful women every single day. You knew comparing yourself to all those stunning people wasn’t healthy, but by your train of thoughts they kept you humbled and down to earth.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” he quickly added as he realised how awkward you seemed. Making him feel guilty was the last thing you wanted to do, so you quickly put on a fake smile and shook your head.

“No, no, it’s completely fine,” you tried to reassure him. “I think we should go. We might have drank a bit too much and we have work tomorrow,” you tried to save yourself from further embarrassment.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” he said, quickly standing up, even stumbling slightly. “Oh, that was unexpected,” he chuckled and even against the weird atmosphere, you could couldn’t stop yourself from giggling at his clumsiness.

“I think that just shows how right I am, as always,” you grinned proudly, nudging his shoulder. He just shook his head and quickly asked for the bill. Before you could have even protested, he paid for the food and drinks already. Although you tried to scold him, he just shushed you and attacked your previous statement about how you were always right except when you weren’t.

As you walked towards your flat, you hooked your arm with Ben’s, just like you always did. It seemed strange at first, you still felt somewhat uncomfortable, but there was also some kind of a comfort in being so close to him even though he felt unreachable. However Ben was slightly distracted, he kept looking around as if searching for something or someone, but it was a rather quiet night.

“Is everything okay?” you asked with a suspicious gaze fixed on his handsome face. He halted and turned to you with a serious expression, one that clearly said he had something on his mind, something he wanted to say out loud, but he just couldn’t find the words.

“I really need to tell you something, but I’m not sure now is the right time,” he spoke finally, his words conflicting.

“Well, if you don’t feel like telling me now, you can tell me tomorrow. We will meet anyway,” you added reassuringly, trying not to pressure him.

“ I know,” he heaved a heavy sigh. “But I have been keeping this in for so long, I really feel the need to say it, but at the same time I’m also quite intoxicated which is messing with my head,” he explained and you weren’t sure how to reply. You were of course curious and wanted to know what he wanted to tell you, but at the same time you didn’t want to press him.

“I can’t help you with that, Ben,” you replied. “If you have something to tell me, it’s up to you, although you made me curious now,” you smiled sweetly, trying to lift the serious atmosphere brought up on your pair.

“You know, you were curious why I knew so much about your little prop-thief, right? And I did say that I didn’t know, but I wasn’t telling you the truth,” he confessed, but you didn’t know how to respond. There were so many questions in your head. Why would he lie? Who could it be? Why did they do it? But you weren’t sure what to ask exactly. Luckily you didn’t have to ask anything as Ben decided to continue his monologue. “I wanted to tell you who it was, but it’s not easy to talk about,” he sighed heavily, trying to collect the right words. “When you like someone, it’s hard to tell them, but even harder if you know that it could potentially ruin a friendship that you don’t want to lose. Stealing prop foods or not, that was just a childish way to deal with it, but I thought even if you didn’t know who I was, it would leave you curious and even without an identity I could occupy your thoughts. I thought it was better to remain friends than to ruin any connection we have had, but blame it on the alcohol or the fact that we spend so much time together recently, I just don’t want to hide it anymore,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, waiting for a reply from you, but you were just stunned.

Your eyes widened at the realisation, your lips parted as though you were a gaping fish. “You like me?” you asked as if his confession wasn’t enough, you needed reassurance.

“Yes, I do like you,” he admitted, playing with his short beard, awkwardly running his fingers through his already messy hair. He didn’t dare to look at you, his eyes wandered around the street, focusing on anything but you in that moment, fearing to see rejection in your eyes and so he couldn’t possibly see the slowly growing smile across your face.

“And what would you say if I said I have liked you too?” you asked with a cheeky grin on your face. Ben almost got a whiplash as he turned to you with a shocked expression, one that clearly showed your reply was anything, but expected.

“You have?” he asked with an uncertain tone, but with a tiny smile in the corner of lips and a hidden enthusiasm.

“Yes, for a while now actually,” you chuckled happily.

“You haven’t said anything,” he added questioningly.

“Well, you’re my friend and just like you, I didn’t dare to ruin what we had. And if you haven’t noticed, you’re a well-known actor, Ben, I couldn’t possibly say anything. I didn’t believe I had a chance beside all those beautiful actresses you are working with—”

“You are beautiful,” he cut in quickly.

“—so, I stayed quiet and decided to remain a friend of yours,” you chuckled at his compliment, still feeling as though you were in a dream, as if it wasn’t reality.

“I mean it. You’re stunning, you’re funny, you are such a hard-working person. It’s you that I like not them,” he added with a relieved smile.

“I have to admit, it’s hard to believe,” you chuckled awkwardly. “Do you maybe want to go up to my flat and talk there so we are not this exposed?” you asked quickly, not wanting to discuss your feelings in the middle of the dark street.

“Of course!” he replied and started leading you to your flat. You shook your head, feeling giddy in his presence, giving him a small peck on his cheek, earning a proud smile from him, one that was rather childish than manly, but if anything that made you even happier.

You were about a couple of streets away from your flat, but trying to contain the wide grin from appearing on your face seemed to be an even harder task than you wished to admit. Ben wasn’t blind though, he could see the smile you fought hard against and he couldn’t stop himself from mirroring your expression. He looked around, searching for paparazzi, but found none. Firmly holding onto your arm in his, he pulled you into a small ally, with a playful grin across his face. You squeaked in surprise as you felt the pulling force from Ben and seconds later the cold wall behind your back.

“Why are you trying to hide your smile?” he asked with a playful chuckle.

“I’m not, it’s just hard to believe,” you replied, still feeling uncertain about the situation.

“Maybe if you let me kiss you, that would make it easier for you to believe,” he leaned closer, running his tongue across his bottom lip. That simple movement left you breathless as you swallowed hard, and your gaze seemed to remain on his lips. But as much as you wished Ben to lean closer, he kept the distance. You wanted to nod, say yes, let out any kind of embarrassing noise of approval, but you found any kind of interaction impossible.

Instead, you grabbed his belt and pulled him closer, standing up on your tiptoes, capturing his lips with yours. For a moment Ben was caught off guard, he didn’t expect your reaction, but he didn’t need long to return the kiss just as hungrily as you did in the first place.

You have dreamt of kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck, whilst his hands drew random circles on your back, but your dreams were nothing compared to reality. Ben’s hold on your waist was firm, but still gentle and his lips against yours felt as though they belonged to you. You couldn’t explain the weakness in your knees, the butterflies in your tummy or the complete emptiness in your mind. There was just Ben and you in that moment and you would have given anything for it to stay like that. But air was something of necessity and when you parted, Ben leaned his forehead against yours matching the rhythm of your heavy breathing.

“That, I think, made it more believable,” Ben spoke up first, making you giggle.

“A few more and it will,” you replied in the same playful manner. “On a side note though, before we go anywhere, you have to promise me that you stop eating my props,” you added, your tone scolding, but humorous.

“If—, I repeat if you kiss me like that every time I feel like stealing your props, then we can work out a deal,” he grinned proudly.

“That’s blackmail, mister,” you exclaimed, but your smile gave you away.

“And what a good one,” he smirked, mentally patting his own shoulder. “Is that a deal then?” he asked.

“Fine! But you better stay far away from my work,” you added in a mock seriousness, knowing even if he did try to steal again, you wouldn’t be able to stay mad at him.

“I think I can manage that,” he chuckled before he closed the gap between you, indulging in the moment a bit longer, knowing both of you have been eagerly waiting to be close to each other.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

Ben Barnes taglist: Taglist from now on is in a reblog.

[fific7]

(My photo edit)

ℝ𝕪𝕒𝕟 𝔹𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝑀𝒾𝓃𝒾-𝒮𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈

Open Roads (WIP)

[ificouldhelpyouforget]

Appalachia Adventures Masterlist - Complete

Summary: You live in a city where NASCAR rules because of the one-mile track. It’s where you come to meet Georgie for the first time and fall in love with the mystery man’s voice on the album your friend gives you. And then you meet Ryan Brenner.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

[madamrogersstorytelling]

Day 1: Seven favorite fanfics

I started to read fanfiction about Ben only a short while ago - I can tell it was exactly the moment I fell in love with him, everything about him; his personality, his looks, his performances, the way he just is who he is. There is something extremely inspiring in him, and I totally understand the amount of fanfiction I found while scrolling through Tumblr looking for something to read. I found a lot of good writings.

Ever since I’ve read lots of fics, most of them during nights before sleeping. I’m laying on my bed in darkness reading Ben Barnes fanfiction on Tumblr - what else could I wish for? All those people writig those fics have made me smile and cry and laugh and everything in between and it’s the best thing about being a part of a fandom.

It was nearly impossible to list only seven, and this order may not be exactly accurate. I’m going to say something about every fic so that people know why it is on my list.

1. A Recipe For Love by @padfootagain 

Caspian X/Reader, 12 chapters

“Your life was quiet, working in the Royal Kitchens and craving for a chance to become a cook. But your whole world changes when your eyes meet the King’s gaze…”

I instantly fell in love with this one. There was something magical in the first chapter that I read the second right after it and actually stayed up a bit too late. But I didn’t mind. The story goes on smoothly and with a comfortable pace, the character of the reader is relatable, and Caspian is charming as always. Carole has the talent to write Caspian; her Caspian is in character and in humanly way full of flaws and she shows him as the man he is when he doesn’t have his crown. That’s what I liked in this one: Caspian is written as the man he truly is, the man who knows and carries the weight of his responsibilities as the king of Narnia. But, at the same time, as a man who wants nothing more than to be with a girl he loves.

2. Lioness by @padfootagain

Caspian X/Reader, 6 chapters

“Caspian quickly understands that you are stronger than you look. But as his feelings grow for you, a threat spreads across Narnia as well, and your life is soon at stake. Will he be fast enough to save you? “

This caught my interest after I had finished all Carole’s one shots about Caspian. I could’ve put any of those to this list, I loved them all. What I liked about this one was how strong the character of the reader is. She knows how to use a sword and is not afraid to use it but she isn’t a cold character. As someone who would like to be someone who fights and takes care of herself (in short: I wouldn’t like to be a lady, a princess or anything like that, no. I’d rather be an outlaw, for instance. Quite a hard choice but I wouldn’t be able to live my life as a princess. Or then again, I could be the one who learns to fight and take care of herself. My dream is to be a Ranger of the North), I could relate to the character quite well and was able to imagine myself in her place. This series was exciting, it got me when bad things started to happen but I wasn’t able to stop smiling. And I cried during the last chapter. It was far too beautiful.

3. The Flue In the Summer by @padfootagain

Ben Barnes/Reader, a one shot

“When you come home sick, Ben is here to make sure that you will soon feel better.”

I’m the one who gets sick once during every winter, spring and fall, sometimes even summer. I catch a cold far too easily. (Hell, I think I’m going to be sick soon, my nose is weird...) So this was fun to read haha! Can I call Ben already to get ready for nursing me? I’d need someone like him to take care of me when I’m sick. This one shot is totally the cutest and fluffiest thing ever! When someone is in desperate need for fluff, this should be their go to fic because fluff guaranteed!

4. What's The Coffee For Today? by @that-bwitch​

Ben Barnes/Reader, a one shot

I’m a romantic even if I don’t always sound or seem like one. I like pretty things, happy things. And this was both. I also love coffee shops more than anything; if I lived in the city, I probably wouldn't do anything else, you'd meet me there every day. I've always dreamed of writing in a coffee shop but have never actually found one that was quiet enough. This, I could hear all the sounds and smell the coffee when I read this, I heard Ben's voice and saw his face. I imagined my favorite coffee shop here. But I love the ending. It left a long-lasting smile to my face. I surely will change my attitude towards coffee now haha!

5. Song For Tomorrows by @padfootagain

Ryan Brenner/Reader, a one shot

“Ryan is ready to stay for you, but this is Dangerous for your heart, and you prefer to let him go. But reading the song he wrote for you most definitely affects you.”

Ryan has a special place in my heart (I’ll probably write about this for another day). Finding fanfiction of him made me more than happy. This is actually the first fic I ever read about Ben Barnes and I can say, there is no turning back. There is everything a fic needs to have to make me cry. This is beautiful, this is sad, this is touching... I simply love this piece.

6. Show Me by @banditthewriter

Billy Russo/Reader, a one shot, contains smut

There was something in this one that caught me. It was probably this softer Billy. I love to see this side of him in fanfiction. In this one it is quite visible, he is willing to focus on the character of the reader, not himself. If I had a man like Billy, he would totally destroy me for everyone else. I’d be a goner. And definitely this softer side of him - although, I think I’d somehow get along with that one we see in The Punisher. I get along with strande kind of people. But yes, there is something in this piece, something about Billy in this one. I love him in this.

7. Scary Love by @hxbbit​

Billy Russo/Reader, 5 chapters, contains smut

This was one of the first Billy Russo fanfics I read. I feel like he is quite in character in this (it’s still hard for me to accept the fact that Billy is completely bad, even being a psychopath he is). I think there can still be a soft side of him, he has just hidden it under many layers of armor. And being one of the first ones, this makes me feel like I get the feeling back, the feeling I had about this character when I read this fic. I’m not gonna lie: I love Billy Russo, even though I probably should hate him. He is far too psychological and has an interesting backstory. All of that is visible in this story. This is also very beautiful in a quite tragic way.

—

I’ve read so many good fics that all of them should’ve gotten a mention. Had to leave so many good ones out of the list but there they still are, in my heart and I go back to them quite often. Thank you, writers, for your amazing fics! Continue writing, it’s visible that you’re enjoying it. Lots of love, everyone ❤️

Happy Ben Barnes week!

@benbarnesweek

[something-tofightfor]

Just a Place - Part 11

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader

Word Count: 8,570

Rating: M (language, implied zest, a terrible human being)

Summary: Continuing your coffee “date” with Jackie, you start to shift your way of thinking about the woman, about Ryan, and about yourself. And during a night out with Ginny, a lot more becomes clear for Ryan, too. 

Author’s Note: Picked this because most of you said you wanted option 2 from the sneaks. Thinking about it, this story is winding down... which I’m excited about, but also very sad about. Enjoy. 

Your POV 

 You’d thought something was up when Jackie had still been wearing her scarf and coat inside the coffee shop, though it looked like she’d been there for a while, but it hadn’t been until she stood that you saw what the woman had been hiding. She’s pregnant. Like… really pregnant. You felt your eyes widen, but you didn’t say anything, hearing Ryan’s quiet exclamation from next to you as his hands flattened on the tabletop after Jackie retreated. “She’s… pregnant.” He sounded like he was in disbelief, and you wondered for a minute if it was because he was upset, but when you finally turned your head to look at him, you found him staring at you, a wide grin on his face - the one that forced his cheeks round and narrowed his eyes. What? “I can’t believe her, she…” 

 “Ryan, are you alright?” Your voice was thin, but he nodded, leaning in and kissing you without warning, his lips soft against yours, one hand resting against your cheek. “Ry, you -”

 “Oh, I’m great.” He kissed you again, this time much more quickly and took a deep breath. “This is all I needed to be … God, she…” He laughed, head moving back and forth before he brought a hand up to run it through his hair. “She is unbelievable, waited until you walked away to try and…” Ryan ran his tongue along his lower lip, still staring at you. “Goddamn.” A truly speechless Ryan was something that you weren’t too familiar with, but as you watched him, you got the feeling that his inability to form words wasn’t because he was flustered - it was because he was trying to say things to you in a way that would comfort you. I get it, Ryan. I didn’t before but I… 

 You hadn’t wanted to give Ryan a chance to talk to Jackie alone, but you knew that he’d needed it, no matter what he said to you or how it made you feel to think of them speaking candidly to each other. There’d been something uninfished between them, and with you sitting there, it never would have come up. But she said something to him, and now… You watched as he slid his hand across  the table and took yours, squeezing the tips of your fingers tightly. Say something. “You should try a muffin, Ryan, the girl at the counter said…” 

 “I love you.” He interrupted you, leaning toward you and locking eyes, the expression in his serious - but still warm. “I know this has been hard for you, but I hope that you know that… that I… it’ll always be you.” Sucking in a breath, you widened your eyes, opening your mouth to respond, but were interrupted by the return of the blonde woman, Ryan leaning back into his chair but not letting go of your hand. I do. Sometimes it’s hard to… 

 “Sorry about that, it’s like I have to pee every…” She talked quickly as she sat back down, getting comfortable on the bench, her eyes focusing on your hands briefly before they moved back to the plate of baked goods. “Not that you’d know because you don’t have kids, but…” Jackie shrugged, reaching for the cinnamon bread on the tray and picking it up, her eyes dropping back to where your hands were joined on the tabletop. “So what were we talking about? How long are you in Ogden for?” She chewed thoughtfully, and you watched her, waiting. She’s asking him, not me. She doesn’t care what I say. 

 “Leavin’ tomorrow night, I think. Maybe the mornin’ after.” Ryan reached out, picking up a muffin, slowly peeling the paper from the bottom of it. “Meetin’ Ginny tonight, going out with her and that’s the last of the things we’ve got planned here.” Jackie nodded as Ryan finally let go of your hand, reaching into his pocket for his phone as he took a big bite, chewing. “Damn, that’s good.” He stared down at the screen in his hand and then sighed, turning his head slightly to look at you. “I gotta go call Ginny, actually. I’ll be right back?” No, don’t leave me with her, I don’t …

 “That’s fine, Ryan.” He stood as he pressed the button to dial, and you followed him with your gaze as he walked across the restaurant to the waiting area and then into the lobby, taking a seat on one of the benches, phone held to his ear. 

 “So Ryan told you about me? About...us?” You reached up and rubbed at the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes as Jackie’s words interrupted your thoughts. Here we go. “How we knew each othe-”

 “He did.” You decided to go with friendliness, at least to start. “I’ve heard all about you, Jackie.” Well, mostly friendly. 

 “We were close. You must have so many questions for me, since… well, since Ryan and I -”

 “Not really.” You reached out, taking a blueberry mini muffin and popping the whole thing into your mouth. She frowned, watching you chew, and when you were done, you continued. “He told me everything I needed to know.” And a bunch that I didn’t want to know. “The second night we knew each other, he…” Are you really going to do this? You stared at Jackie, watching her watch you, and took a deep breath. Yes. “He… we got caught in a storm in Vegas, and he ended up in my room to wait it out, and we talked. We talked a lot, and you came up because he tried to…” You trailed off, your mind going back to the way you’d wanted him to kiss you more than anything that night, the way he’d seemed almost embarrassed to tell you about Jackie after jumping up from the bed and going into the bathroom, the feeling of his lips against yours for the first time. “I knew about you before he kissed me once, Jackie.” 

 “What?” She sounded incredulous, and you held back a laugh at the look in her eyes. “He talked about me and then kissed you?” The blonde laughed, head shaking back and forth. “How’d that fe-”

 “He didn’t owe me anything, Jackie. We’d known each other for 24 hours at that point, and had only had a couple real conversations, but he still thought it was important to tell me about himself and his life and his past before we… before anything happened.” You chewed on your lip. “He didn’t need to bring you up, but he did. He could have just ….” You waved your hand in the air. “Just done whatever with me in Vegas, one night, nothing more, but he didn’t.” You leaned in toward her, tapping your fingertips on the table. “He told me about you for the same reason he left you in the first place - Ryan’s not a liar, and he’s not going to force himself to do something or say something if his heart’s not in it. And he’s not going to take advantage of someone because of a feeling.” Were there feelings then?  “He didn’t want to be here and be what you wanted him to be, because it wasn’t him.” She stared at you, still silent. “I think he cared about you, Jackie. And he definitely cared about Lia, but you… you’re holding on to something that doesn’t… it’s not possible anymore.”

 “You think you know me from what he’s said.” Her eyes narrowed and Jackie reached up, pushing her hair back from her forehead. “But you don’t know anything about what Ryan and I-”

 “You’re married, Jackie. You’re pregnant. You called Ryan and wanted him to tell you not to marry this guy, and then when he wouldn’t play your game, you went through with it, and…” You paused. “I know what it’s like to lose Ryan, and I know that it’s miserable. But he gave you a chance to be happy, to have a family, something he was never going to give you, and here you are, years later, still trying to… get him back?” She jumped as if you’d startled her, her eyes widening. No one talks to you this way, do they?  “Why would you want to be with someone that couldn’t give you what you wanted most?” You’d started the day very close to outright hating the woman, but as you sat in front of her, you were more irritated at the way she was so obviously still pining for Ryan though she’d chosen another life for herself - going all in on her second marriage. As much as she can, anyway. “He loves me, Jackie. And he’s happy, and… so am I.” 

 ‘He loved me too, or he wouldn’t have come back, wouldn’t have told me he wanted to…” Jackie swallowed. “That guitar, it was supposed to … we… I thought…” Her lips pressed together. “He was supposed to -”

 “That’s the thing, Jackie. Ryan wasn’t supposed to do anything for you, or for anyone else. That’s not how it works.” You took a drink from your mug, steadying yourself. “You can’t guilt someone into doing something, or bribe them or force them, because if you do, it’s not gonna end how you want it to.” You sighed, deciding again to be honest with her after looking and seeing that Ryan was still on the phone, a wide grin on his face. “Leaving him to go to that airport in Vegas was hard, and I’d only known him for a few days. We were still basically strangers, and we hadn’t... Not telling him how I felt when we talked after that was… it was worse, but I still didn’t do it, because it wouldn’t have been fair to him to expect him to choose me.” Like you did.

 “You don’t know -” Her lip curled, eyes flashing. Oh, but I do. 

 “I do know, Jackie, and the sooner you understand that, the better. This is it. He agreed to see you today because that’s who he is, but it won’t happen again, and you know it. Did you think that him seeing you like this was going to make him realize that he wanted to stay? That he wanted to step in again and…” Be with you? Are you delusional? “That he’d leave me? That he’d … encourage you to leave your husband? Ryan? This isn’t a game, and it’s not a competition.” It never was. You realized it was true as soon as the words left your mouth, but tried not to let it show. I’ve been thinking that I have to compete with her, and it’s never been… “Shit.” You whispered the word, looking down. 

 “I could have given him… we could have been…” Her voice was thin and you heard it waver, but you hadn’t had a chance to reply before she spoke again. “I wanted to. I tried to tell him that I just needed to have him try to understand what I …”

 “You shouldn’t have to ask someone something like that, Jackie. It’s not real then, and with Ryan, it’s… it has to be real, otherwise there’s no point.” You broke off a piece of a scone, chewing on it. “I thought I’d hate you, you know that? I thought that… all this time, that meeting you would be like meeting an enemy or someone that I’d have to worry about even though he told me that that was crazy.” Eyes closing, you laughed. “But I was wrong.” You swore under your breath again, and when you looked back at the woman, you saw that she looked almost distraught, the meaning behind your words sinking in. “You’re not a th-”

 “Hey, sorry about that.” Ryan’s voice startled you, and you turned your head, feeling his fingers closing around your shoulder. “Ginny started talkin’ and…. Everything alright here?” Looking up, you saw a questioning look in his eyes, nodding at him without pause. I’m fine, Ryan. But she’s not.

 ‘Yeah, we were just talking about you, Ry.” Ryan rolled his eyes but sat down next to you, Jackie staying quiet on the other side of the table. “Is Ginny still coming over tonight?” 

 “She is. I told her she could stay in the second bedroom an’ just go home tomorrow, that way we can spend more -”

 “Where are you guys going?” Jackie recovered and you fought back an eye roll of your own, looking away from Ryan and back at the woman. “Out downtown, or?” What, so you can show up?

 “Ginny’s comin’ to our place and we’re gonna record somethin’, and then go out to celebrate.” Ryan’s arm was around the back of your chair, something you were sure that the other woman hadn’t missed. “Might be the last time that I see Ginny for a while, and if she’s going to be playin’ Southbound with me, I think -”

 “Southbound? You mean my song? The one I -” Jackie sounded both excited and angry, but you didn’t say anything, waiting to see what Ryan’s response would be. “The one we wrote together? Why is she going to…” 

 “It’s not about you, Jackie. I was wrong.” His words simple and straight to the point, Ryan sighed, shoulders straight. “Thought it was about you at first, but it’s not, it’s about Ginny and… and Cowboy, an’ what they mean to me.” You watched the light leave her eyes, Jackie’s palms curved around her mug. “So havin’ her sing it with me makes sense.” Jackie stayed silent, raising her mug to her lips but not drinking, her eyes focused on the table in front of her. “Look, Jackie, I -” Ryan’s tone was soft, even for him, but it didn’t concern you the way it would have previously. “The first time I was here, when we met, it was a real confusing time for me, and for you.” You looked over at him, watching as Ryan used his free hand to rub at one bearded cheek. 

 “It was. Especially with Wes and my mom and having to explain things to Lia.” She set the mug down, her eyes trained on Ryan’s face, left hand resting on the tabletop. “We’d only been here a little while, but you know that, you... “ Jackie’s eyes were glistening, head shaking back and forth as she pressed her lips together. “You helped so much, Ryan. Not just with the roof or the truck or the house or… you being here was what we needed.” As she spoke, one of her hands moved to her stomach, and though you couldn’t see it beneath the table, you could tell that she was moving her hand in a circle over it, cradling the bump. “What I needed, even now.” You’ve got to be kidding me.

 “No, it’s not.” Ryan’s voice was still quiet, and even though he didn’t remove his arm from around your shoulders, his palm slid over, resting at the center of your back as he leaned forward, reaching out to lay his other hand over Jackie’s and squeezing it gently. “You needed - need - someone to love you, Jackie. And that wasn’t ever gonna be me, but I don’t think… I don’t think you get that yet.” You were proud of him for being honest, proud of him for telling her exactly what he felt. He was closing the door for the last time, like you’d suggested, and you knew without a doubt that unless you brought her up or someone else did, Ryan wouldn’t ever mention Jackie again in front of you after you left the cafe. Good. This is… this is good. 

 The woman stayed quiet, watching Ryan’s hand atop hers intently, and you saw her lower lip quiver, mentally preparing yourself for her tears. It’s not going to work. You wanted to speak but didn’t want to interrupt their moment - maybe their last meaningful moment - and so you didn’t, instead waiting. “You’re so sure, Ryan.” She looked up, slowly, and for a moment you saw her how he’d likely seen her in the beginning - vulnerable, looking for support, earnest. “How can you be so sure you didn’t...don’t...?” You felt Ryan take a deep breath, tightening his hand on hers once more before he pulled it away and gestured toward you. 

 “Because, Jackie, if I was supposed to come back here an’ be with you, I wouldn’t feel the way I do about her.” Ryan paused and you felt your heart thump in your chest at his words. “You need to let me go. Let go of a couple months four years ago and focus on what you got now - right now - in front of you.” He straightened up, taking a deep breath. “Don’t screw up a chance for yourself to be happy by thinkin’ of me.” He let out the breath, and you finally looked at him, seeing resolve on his face. “We’re gonna go now, because I don’t… I don’t know what else there is to say.” Oh. The other woman kept quiet, even as Ryan stood, pulling his coat back on. “I hope you’re happy, Jackie. You were always a real good mom, and so I hope… that’s true for that little one, too.” 

 There was sincerity in his voice, and you finally stood up, sliding your arms back into your coat and zipping it quickly, Jackie still silent. She won’t let him have the final word, there’s no way. But as you waited a few seconds, the silence stretched. Maybe I’m wr- “You’re giving up on a good thing, Ryan, a really good thing.” She looked back up at him, but she wasn’t crying - there was resolve on her face. “You’ll regret it someday.” Ryan sighed, the sound loud, even in the busy room, and you felt him shrug his shoulders next to you. 

 “Not as much as you’d regret losin’ your husband to a memory.” He reached over, taking your hand, his fingers slipping smoothly between yours. “Goodbye, Jackie.” 

--- 

 Ryan’s POV 

 Midway through their practice session, Ryan heard a loud snap and felt an absence of one of the strings beneath his fingers. Shit. Virginia stopped playing and singing, her eyes on his hands. “Break a string, Ry?” I did. He sighed, gripping the neck with one hand and using the other to rub at his face. “You got a new set to change ‘em?” 

 “Yeah, but that will put us behind, and…” He sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m a little off, Ginny, I’m sorry, I -”

 “Jackie threw you off, Ry?” There was no judgement in her voice - only understanding, and Ryan nodded, opening his eyes again. “How’d that go? She tell you she’s -”

 “You knew?” He set the guitar to the side, leaning in closer. “About the baby? About -”

 “I did.” Ginny shrugged, fingers idly plucking the strings of Cowboy’s guitar. “Wasn’t my place to tell you, but everyone in town knows. Her new husband’s some hotshot doctor, Miriam introduced ‘em… and that’s that.” Virginia shook her head. “I see her sometimes, in the store with Lia, she always says hi, asks about Henry… but Ryan, I can tell she always wanted to ask about you, even though the first time she did, I told her that I didn’t know because we weren’t talkin’ anymore.” That makes sense. “It was a huge wedding, and everyone thought that she was pregnant then, because it happened so fast, but…” Ginny shrugged again. “She wasn’t, but now she is, and I thought that she woulda been over you by now, you know?” The woman smiled, leaning over and pushing Ryan’s knee. “You’re a good guy, but she’s got everything she could ever want, so why would she…”

 It seems like it. Ryan shook his head, looking past Ginny and out the back door at the hot tub. “She won’t let go, Ginny. I don’t know how many times I’ve gotta tell her or show her that I don’t… it’s over; she doesn’t get it.” He frowned. “She was all covered up when we got to the coffee place today, and then when things didn’t go her way she took her coat off and stood up, like me seein’ her belly was gonna change my mind.” 

 “She’s always been dramatic.” Virginia’s eyebrow was raised, her head cocked to the side. “No surprise there.” No, none at all. “But you said you’re off, Ryan? Is everything alright? Did -” Ginny gestured at the stairs, knowing you were up there in the shower. “She handle it OK?” 

 “Yeah, as well as … I donno, she didn’t really react. I think she got that all out of her system the other night when we argued, but Ginny, seein’ her and Jackie in the same room?” Ryan shook his head, hair falling into his eyes as his fingers tightened around the neck of his guitar. If I can’t be honest with Ginny, who can I be honest with? “I felt somethin’ for Jackie once, there’s no point in trying to… ignore it.” The dark haired woman nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. “But the way I felt then? It doesn’t… there’s no way to compare it to what I feel now, it’s not even close.” He took a deep breath, feeling his lip curl slightly. “Even before I found her again in that park, I…” Ryan gestured toward the stairs, pausing. “It was always more, it was…”

 “It was real, Ryan. What you two have now is… it’s what Cowboy and I…” She smiled sadly, swallowing. “When you know, you know, and I’m lookin’ at you, and I see it. You know, she knows and Jackie knows, too. She’d be blind not to see it, even if she doesn’t want to.” What? What’s she… “I never thought I’d get to see you in love, Ryan Brenner, but now that I have?” Ginny reached out, squeezing Ryan’s knee. “I hope I never see you any other way again. It looks good on you.” He stared at his friend wordlessly, Ryan replaying her words in his mind, but before he spoke, Ginny beat him to it. “Now change those strings, Brenner, we’ve got a song to record and then beers to drink.” He grinned, carefully setting the guitar down in the case and snapping it shut. Not gonna use this one, even though it’s the one I finished the song on. 

 “Got a better idea, Ginny.” He stood, crossing the room and picking up the case your father’s guitar was in, carrying it back over to the couch and pulling the instrument out. “Gonna play on this one.” Her eyes went wide at the sight of the guitar’s smooth surface, but Ginny didn’t say anything, just nodded. “You ready?”  At her agreement, Ryan took a deep breath and began to pluck at the strings, relaxing with the familiar weight of the guitar on his lap. This is right. I don’t need that guitar anymore.

 --- 

 An hour later, the three of you were sitting in the living room, waiting for your car to arrive. You’d ordered another ride so that you wouldn’t have to worry about the amount you drank, and Ryan watched as you and Ginny laughed together, both of you looking at the screen of your phone. “How long we gotta wait?” He finally spoke, waiting a few seconds for you to raise your eyes to meet his. When they did, he felt himself smiling, nose wrinkling even before you said anything. 

 “Fifteen minutes, Brenner.” You bit your lip, keeping eyes on him for a few more seconds, and then looked back down, returning to the conversation you were having with Ginny. They’re friends already, it’s like they’ve known each other for years. He watched you and then stood, walking back up the stairs and into the bedroom where he’d put the recorder when they’d finished with it, picking it up before he sat on the edge of the bed and pressing play. 

 The notes were familiar to him; he’d played them hundreds of times, the lyrics were permanently etched onto his mind - but the song hadn’t ever sounded as good to him as it did when he was singing with Ginny, their voices joined together and making the familiar contents new again. Even that first time, with Georgie and the guys, it wasn’t… wasn’t like this. Ryan closed his eyes as he listened, fingers tightening around the small piece of equipment. Ginny took the lead, singing Ryan’s words as if she’d written them, and though they’d recorded three different takes, Ryan knew that the first one was the good one, the one that he’d go back to. It was my first real song, and it’s… it’s finally right. “Hey.” He looked up from his hands, finding you standing in the doorway, arms crossed over your chest. “Car’s gonna be here in a few minutes, I wanted to make sure you…” 

 “Which one you think’s best?” He held the recorder up, song still playing. “Of the three we -”

 “The one you did first, Ryan.” You stepped into the room completely, dropping your hands to your sides. “Ginny took over, she made that song hers, I’ve neve heard it that way before.” You were right, he knew, and as you sat next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder and humming along with the final bars of the song, Ryan closed his eyes. “How about you?” He answered without pause, turning his head to kiss you as he pressed the button to stop the replay, letting the device fall from his hand onto the mattress. 

 “Same one.” He sighed, both arms going around you. “It’s perfect, I didn’t even know that it needed to sound any different ‘til-” He stopped as he heard Ginny yelling up the stairs for the two of you. “Guess we gotta go.” He mumbled the words into your hair. “We -” The woman’s voice called out again and both of you laughed, Ryan standing up and pulling you to your feet and into his chest. “Let’s go say goodbye to Ogden.” 

 --- 

 The bar that Ginny chose - Brewski’s - was busy, but the three of you had been able to get onto one of the pool tables, Ryan watching as the two of you played the first game, still laughing as you settled in, the balls clinking against each other and the sides of the table as you lined up and  took your shots. He felt truly relaxed for the first time in days, and Ryan’s eyes wandered over the other people in the building, ears tuned both to the sound of your voice and the loud music coming from the TouchTunes machine next to the kitchen doors. Feels good to be here with them. He was perched on a stool, holding his beer glass in one hand,and Ryan found himself singing along as he swiveled his head back to your table, watching as Ginny sunk the last shot, dropping her cue on the table in victory. ‘Course she won. You met Ryan’s eyes, grinning, and within a few seconds you’d stepped over to him, reaching up to put your arms around his neck. “What?” 

 “You should have told me your friend knew how to play pool, Ryan Brenner.” You leaned in to speak into his ear, lips barely touching his skin. “She knew she was gonna win that whole time, and so did you.” I did. He put both hands on your hips, spreading his knees apart so that you could step closer. “Your turn. She gonna beat you as bad as she beat me?” Probably. You kissed his cheek, pulling back so that you could look at him, and Ryan felt his heart thumping in his chest. I never thought I’d be this comfortable in Ogden, never with… “Gonna go get another round while you guys rack, want the same thing?” He nodded, feeling your forearms tighten against him, his hands sliding up your sides. 

 “Yeah. Now go, before I keep you here an’ we -” He bit down on his lower lip, eyes locked on yours. “Go.” You laughed, pulling away from Ryan and turning to walk toward the bar, and as soon as you disappeared into the crowd, Ryan stood, walking over to Ginny, who was watching him with an amused smile on her face, “What?” The dark haired woman looked away, gathering the balls and placing them quickly. “Ginny.” Even over the sound of the music, Ryan knew that she’d heard him. “C’mon, Gin. What are you thinking?” 

 “Ryan.” Ginny finished what she was doing and then stepped toward him, reaching up to touch his cheek. “You know what I’m thinking.” No, I don’t, actually, I … “What are you waiting for, with her?” Ginny’s eyes searched his, her lips pressed in a thin line. “Why are you waiting?” Waiting? For what? He frowned and finally, Ginny laughed, gesturing toward the bar.  “You love her, she loves you, you’ve been with her for longer than you’ve been with anyone except me an’ Cowboy, so… what are you waiting for?” Ginny took a drink from her beer glass, draining the remaining liquid from it. “You’re not gettin’ any younger, Ry.” What is she… He shook his head quickly, tongue poking into the center of his cheek. 

 “Ginny, what are -”

 “When you know, you know, Ryan.” His eyes moved down to Ginny’s hand, the fingers still curled around her empty glass. “I knew. He knew.” Her eyes left his face, gaze moving downward. “Wish we’d had more time, Ry.” She let the glass go, stepping back from him and Ryan watched as she twisted the simple gold band on her finger with her thumb. She means… His eyes widened. “I know you, know how stubborn you are, how… how much you think things over before you do ‘em.” I do. “You don’t need to think, Ryan. Not with this.” Ginny turned away from him, hands moving over the balls again, and when she’d removed the frame from around them, picking up her cue, she turned back to face him, a knowing look in her eyes, visible even in the dim lighting. “Neither of you are goin’ anywhere, you should make it official.” 

 He sucked in a breath, the meaning behind her words sinking in. Official. “Ginny, are you sayin’ that I should -”

 “Yes.” She didn’t say anything else, but Ryan could see the look in her eyes - certainty bordered with a sadness that he knew she felt on a daily basis. “I am. You should.” Wordlessly, Ryan turned away, picking up your discarded cue stick and feeling himself breathing harder. Is Ginny right? Is that what she wants? What I want? The realization that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you wasn’t a new one, but for Ryan, the thought hadn’t grown into anything more. Forever for Ryan simply meant being with you, next to you, being able to come home to you every day, but as he contemplated his friend’s words, he began to doubt that assessment of the term being enough. “Ry?” He shook himself out of his thoughts and brought hs focus back to Ginny, who was leaning against the pool table. “I don’t mean right now, but… what else are you lookin’ for? Because you two are…” She sighed. “Remember when me an’ Cowboy got married in that little park in Cleveland? Right by the lake? Just you and me and him and that couple we used as witnesses?” He nodded. “We didn’t need to do it, but we wanted to because we needed each other, and we didn’t wanna wait anymore, that’s why it didn’t matter where we did it, just that we … did.” Ginny’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. “We shoulda done it sooner. He was it for me, and she’s it for you, Brenner. I’ve never seen you look at another person the way you look at her, an’ maybe she doesn’t need it either, but I think you might.” 

 “What are you sayin’ Ginny? I need to be…” She stepped closer to him, reaching out to take Ryan’s free hand. “Why would I need it if -”

 “Cause you’ve never had someone like her before. This - what you’ve got now is what you’re used to, and yeah, a wedding’s just words, just paper, just a ring… but Ryan? You know damn well it’ll feel different than that with her after.” It already does. She squeezed his hand. “Think about it. Bring it up to her, maybe. See what she says, but I know I’m right.” Ginny cocked her head to the side, looking over his shoulder. “She’s comin back, so…” She stepped away Ryan turned, reaching out to take one of the three glasses from your hands. 

 “Thanks, thought I could carry all three, but that was harder than I thought.” He smiled at you, handing the beer he’d grabbed to Ginny and then waiting until you handed him his, raising the glass to his lips. “You guys didn’t start yet?” 

 “Nah, we were talkin’.” Ginny wiped at her mouth with one hand, swallowing. “You know how this one gets, won’t ever shut up.” The three of you laughed at that and Ginny stepped back to the table, flexing her shoulders. “Now let me kick your ass, Ryan, so we can just sit down and drink.” 

 --- 

 Ginny did win, but he put up more of a fight than you had, and as she triumphantly made her last shot, reaching out and dropping the stick onto the table, Ryan could only smile at his friend, seeing the excitement and happiness in her eyes. I miss seein’ that. I hope she…He frowned at the thought of her words from earlier about Cowboy being it for her, and hoped that she didn’t mean to stay alone for the rest of her life. But she doesn’t need anyone else, she… she’s got Henry and her family and… He knew that Ginny would never love someone else the way she’d loved Cowboy, wouldn’t ever let herself get so attached to any one thing aside from their son. But if that’s what she wants, it’s what she should… “Want another round?” She cut into his thoughts, pushing on Ryan’s shoulder. “You look like you’re thinkin’ about something serious, Ryan.”

 “I was just…” He closed his eyes. Not your place, don’t bring it up. “Just thinkin’, Ginny.” She winked at him, and Ryan felt your arms go around his waist from behind, the weight of your body not far behind. “What are you doin’?” You squeezed him and he turned to face you, careful not to hit you with his elbow as he moved. “Are you… are you drunk?” He laughed when he finally laid eyes on you, but you shook your head, wrinkling your nose. 

 “No. I’ve only had three beers, Brenner, I’m -”

 “And we shared that pitcher.” Ginny spoke up from behind him and Ryan laughed as you drooped your head, sighing. 

 “Alright, maybe I’m a little…” You lifted your chin again, meeting his eyes. “Tipsy. But you’ve had just as much as me, and you’re ... “ You trailed off as Ryan leaned down, pausing before he kissed you. “Ry…”

 “Oh I am definitely a little drunk.” He pressed his lips to yours. “Been nice to relax, yeah?” You nodded, pulling one arm away from him and raising your hand to his hair, Ryan’s eyes closing as the tips of your fingers touched his scalp. “But I’m good, havin’ a good time, so-” You kissed him hard, his exhale followed by a quiet groan as you tilted your head to the side, pulling on his hair. Oh, that’s what you want? Alright. Giving in to you - because it was exactly what he wanted - Ryan kissed you back, both arms wrapping around you to hold you close to him. When you pulled back to breathe, Ryan gave you a second and then pulled you back in, feeling the surprise in you as he continued the kiss, both hands pressed against your back. You hummed when that kiss ended, looking up at him with a slightly dazed look on your eyes.Yeah. “That’s enough.” He quickly wet his lips with his tongue, hands moving to your hips. “Gotta stop, or…”

 “Or what, Ryan?” But you stepped away, closing you eyes. “Don’t answer that. You can’t do anything about it, so…” No, not here I can’t. “One more then we should go?” You looked at Ginny and so did Ryan, both of them nodding at you. “I’ll go get it, I’ve got a tab open.” You slipped out of his arms fully, but not before you rose onto your tiptoes to kiss Ryan’s cheek, the tip of your nose brushing against the skin just beneath his eye. “Be right back.” He nodded once, hands falling back to his sides as you turned back to the bar. Shit. Ryan’s chest expanded as he took in a breath, watching you move. But after a few seconds, he turned back to see that Ginny was perched on her stool, one eyebrow raised as she stared at him.  Yeah, Ginny. I know. 

 --- 

 The next morning, Ryan woke up to the sound of the water running in the bathroom, his eyes cracking open as he groped for his phone. It’s already eleven? Jesus. He sat up, using the heels of his hands to wipe the sleep from his eyes and then stretched, feeling the muscles of his shoulders tense and then relax. “Good morning, Ry.” You emerged from the small room, wrapped only in a towel and Ryan moved without hesitation after seeing you, standing from the bed and pushing you backwards, his body pinning you against the wall as he hugged you. I want this. “Ryan, what are you -” You laughed as he moved toward you, but the sound died on your lips as he reached you, kissing the side of your neck and then the top of your shoulder, not saying a word. “Ryan, you -” 

 “Shh.” He took a deep breath and then straightened up, meeting your eyes. “I just needed to…” Ginny’s right. She’s always right. His mouth back on your skin, you slid both hands up his bare back, staying quiet. “Good  morning.” He knew his heart was hammering in his chest but Ryan didn’t care, holding you close. “Do I have time to shower?” 

 ‘Yeah, Ry.” You turned your head to press your cheek against his skin, Ryan feeling the vibration of your words throughout his body as you spoke. “Ginny’s still here, and we don’t have to leave ‘til five, so we have plenty of time.” You paused, and he heard the concern when you next spoke. “Is everything alright? You’re … you seem off, Ryan.” Just thinkin’ about you and me and what Ginny said and… 

 “Yeah, I’m fine, just wakin’ up, and seein’ you walk out of a bathroom like this, it…” It what? “Not used to seein’ you like that in a place where our stuff’s not scattered everywhere or there’s not ladders or…” 

 “This is the last morning things will be like that for a while.” You removed yourself from his grip, adjusting the towel. “We gotta start looking for another house, decide where we’re going to go next…” We do. He felt himself deflate at the thought, and for a few seconds, Ryan was confused. But nothing’s changing, that’s been my life for years. “I have to answer emails about jobs, and…” You smiled at him, running your fingers through your wet hair. “Back to normal, right?” Right. Normal. “I’ll go start breakfast once I’m dressed.” He nodded, stepping into the bathroom, and even though he heard you moving around as you got dressed and he turned the water back on, his mind was elsewhere. 

 --- 

 Your POV

 The three of you ate breakfast at the table, Ryan sitting next to Ginny, you across from him. Something’s different. He’s… he’s got something on his mind, he… You couldn’t place it, and Ryan was still just as engaged as he’d been previously with you and Ginny, but even as you chewed on your toast, you realized that he’d been different since you’d been in the bar the previous night. Wonder what happened. He and Ginny laughed together, the woman putting an arm around him and playfully pulling him close, and the sound that left his mouth warmed you from head to toe. I wish I could give him this all the time. You knew that was impossible - Ryan had no desire to live in Ogden and neither did you, and the rest of his friends were scattered across the country; Georgie and Fabienne and Alexander, Matt and Jack, Cliff, Charlie … they were all over, and there was no way to keep him close to everyone at once. I don’t know what to do. You took a deep breath, deciding to worry later, and just as you were ready to stand up to take the dishes to the sink, Ryan spoke. “Ginny, is that music store still open? The one where my guitar’s from?” 

 “Yeah, it’s still there, they actually give lessons now.” She handed you her plate, thanking you, and you grabbed Ryan’s too, moving over to the sink. “Why? You stopping in before you guys leave?” 

 “Gotta get new strings, thought I had a spare set, but the only ones I’ve got are the kind we use on the other guitar.” We? I’ve never personally changed the strings on that thing in my life. “Figured we could stop in on our way outta town.” They continued the conversation, and by the time that Ginny was ready to leave, the kitchen was spotless, all of the dishes drying in the rack and the food that you and Ryan had bought but couldn’t take with you packed up into a carton for the woman. “Didn’t want it to go to waste.” Ryan shrugged his shoulders. “And we’ve got a while drivin’, so…” 

 “I appreciate it, Ryan.” Ginny frowned for a second. “Hate takin’ handouts, but…” 

 “That’s not what it is, Ginny.” You stepped closer, surprising yourself by interrupting. “We bought too much, and it’s stupid to throw it away when you guys’ll eat it.” She watched you, almost as if she was waiting for some sort of judgement, even though you’d never even hinted at it in the days you’d known her. “Would have given you everything, but someone wanted to keep the snacks.” Ryan scoffed next to you, and Ginny finally smiled again. 

 “He eats a lot, doesn’t he?” She winked at him and then stepped closer to you, putting her arms around your neck without warning. “Take care of him,” she whispered in your ear as she hugged you fiercely. “He’s like my little brother.” I know, Ginny. “Don’t be a stranger, Ryan. Both of you, actually.” Ginny stepped over to him, reaching up to touch Ryan’s chest, one fingertip over his heart. “We lost too much time. Don’t do the same.”

 “I won’t, Gin.” He hugged her tightly, nearly crushing the woman to his chest, and you turned away, giving them a chance to say goodbye. I’m glad we came. You heard him promise to email her the file of the recording once he’d made some changes to it and put it on the computer as you headed up the steps to finish packing your bags, and by the time Ryan made it up to you, you were nearly done. “You shoulda waited.” He stepped next to you, one arm winding around your waist. “Woulda helped, you didn’t -”

 “Nah, you were saying goodbye, you guys needed a minute, it’s no big deal.” You finished folding your clothes, zipping the bag shut. “Just have to grab the coats and the guitars, and we’re good to go.” He kissed the side of your head, holding you for a few seconds, and when he let you go, you stared up at him. “Everything alright? You’ve been -” 

 “Yes. Ginny and I just had a pretty… important conversation, and it’s made me think, and... “ Ryan ran a hand through his hair. “Nothin’ to worry about, I just wasn’t… wasn’t expectin’ it to make so much sense, and it threw me off.” His eyes moved over your face, the sunlight pouring in through the window and turning them into a brilliant, warm brown. I wish we had this all the time. “What?” You watched his eyes narrow, cheeks going round as he smiled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”  Shit. 

 “I... “ You shook your head, lowering your gaze back to the bag on the bed. I have him, that’s enough. Doesn’t matter what we’re doing. “I liked being here, Ryan. It wasn’t an easy week, but it was nice to meet another one of your friends, nice to see another city you spent a lot of time in, it…” He grabbed you again, spinning you to face him, hands settled against your hips. “I’m surprised.” 

 “So’m I.” He leaned down, letting out a quiet sigh. ‘Was good to be back here, to see Ginny, really meet Henry.” He kissed you then, lips falling softly against yours and then pressing harder. “Was good to have you here with me.” Yeah, it was. “Thank you for understandin’ everything.” You reached up, pushing the hair out of his eyes before you dropped your hand to his shoulder, squeezing it in response. “We should go, I don’t know how late that store’s open, and I... “ He trailed off. “I don’t wanna risk it.” It’s just strings, Ryan, you can get them anywhere. But you nodded, and only a few minutes later, the car was loaded up, Ryan sitting behind the wheel. “I liked this house, it was perfect.” 

 “Yeah, I could see myself living in a place like that,” you replied quickly, eyes on the side of the building. “Not too big, but there was space. Plenty of room for us to be sep…” Your eyes widened. “I just meant…” 

 “No, it’s fine, I get it.” He turned the radio down, glancing over at you. “We’re already livin’ together, just not… not anywhere permanent, right?” He didn’t seem to want you to answer, and kept talking. “You ever think about that? About what...our place would be like?” No. Yes. All the time. What do you want me to say? 

 “We don’t … that isn’t…” Confused at his question, you turned in your seat to face him. “Everything’s been short term, Ryan, the house in Charleston was…” 

 “Yeah, but if you… if… it’s not always gonna be…” He was flustered, and you immediately felt bad, even though he’d been the one to bring it up. 

 “Is that… do you think about it, Ryan?” Your lips stayed parted, eyes on his face. Is this what he’s been thinking about? “Living somewhere?” The interior of the car was quiet as Ryan turned a corner, eyes on the road. 

 “Sometimes.” The honesty in his tone shocked you. That wasn’t… that’s not what we…”I figure you’ll want to settle somewhere sometime. People always do, even if they don’t stay, you’ll want… more than this.” Do I? “Would be kinda nice to call someplace my own.” He sounded nervous to admit it, so you answered quickly, trying to comfort him. 

 “Yeah, it’d be a nice change to know exactly where all my stuff is… not just that some of it’s in Philly and some’s in Texas and some is in Colorado…” He laughed at that, and you reached over to touch his denim-clad knee. “We can talk about that if you want, Ryan. Maybe start… start thinking about what it might look like?” Please don’t overreact. Please don’t… “To st-”

 “OK.” He glanced at you. “We should.” Are you serious? “But first, let’s just go in here and get…” He sighed, putting the car into park. “Get some strings.” Yeah. 

 The shop was small, and you felt comfortable as soon as you were inside, eyes moving over the instruments that filled it, lingering on the wall of acoustic guitars. “This is where yours came from, Ry?” He pulled one of them off the wall, his fingers drifting over the strings but not with any purpose or pressure. “When you were -”

 “Yeah.” He looked around the room fondly, a half smile on his lips. “Came in here with Georgie the first afternoon I was in Ogden, an’ saw it. Didn’t even have a price yet.” He put the guitar back, moving to the next. “Played it for a minute and it felt good in my hands.” Ryan paused, turning his head to look at you. “Came back a couple times that week, played it, and then was plannin’ on buying it before I left for Portland if I could earn enough money and use my old Washburn as a trade in.” He shrugged, sitting down on a bench and putting the guitar he was holding over one knee. “And then Cowboy died, and things changed. Jackie… when I was leavin’? She surprised me with it, bought it without me knowing, and I told her… I told her that I’d make good music on it.” 

 “And you did, Ryan. You wrote so many things on it, played in so many places.” It’s important to him. “It’s a good memory for you, You might -”

 “But I wanted to buy it for myself, I didn’t want… someone to give it to me. Wanted to earn it.” You knew what he meant - knew that Ryan valued feeling like he’d achieved something every time he met a goal that he’d set for himself. “An’ I’m grateful that she bought it for me, I’d never had a new guitar before, and never one that nice, but… bein’ given something isn’t the same as gettin’ it for yourself.” He strummed the guitar that he was holding, and you heard a few notes of the song he’d written for you, his tattooed fingers easily picking them out. “I-”

 “Can I help the two of you with something?” A middle aged woman approached, a smile plastered onto her face. “Do you need to see -” Ryan cleared his throat, immediately pausing his song. 

 “No, ma’am, not right now. I got a guitar from here a couple years ago, and I’ll need some strings, but right now, I’m just… playin’.” She looked between the two of you, waiting, and then Ryan spoke again. “Sign says you give lessons?” 

 “Yes, we have some students that come in and take lessons each week, it’s a new thing that we offer.” She stepped over to the wall of guitars, adjusting the one that Ryan had previously held. “Lots of interest, but a lot of the people here don’t have guitars of their own, and we’ve only got two of the loaners to use, so scheduling is hard.” She shrugged her shoulders. “We make do, but-” Ryan turned his head to look at you, an unreadable expression in his eyes. What are you thinking? 

 “I’ve…” You watched his jaw work, fingers tightening on the neck of the instrument he held. “My guitar’s a couple years old, but it’s still…” He closed his eyes, inhaling. “It needs a new set of strings, but I think…” Ryan swallowed, eyes still on you. “I’d like to donate it.” What? 

--- --- ---

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[something-tofightfor]

Just a Place - Part 10

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader

Word Count: 7900

Rating: M (language, implied zest)

Summary: After a difficult run in, will you and Ryan talk it out, or has something changed between the two of you? And what’s the next move? 

Author’s Note: I’d apologize for how I end this chapter, but I’m not sorry. 

Ryan’s POV

 He watched you walk through the living room and out the back door, the towel wrapped tightly around your body. She’s real mad. You didn’t look at him, but he didn’t let his fingers falter, keeping the song going even after you closed the door behind you. I shouldn’t have stopped. I should have… Ryan closed his eyes, fingers still moving over the strings, and felt his shoulders droop. The entire day had ben one misstep after another, from the conversation you’d had that morning to the way he’d zoned out in the museums, and finally to his reaction to seeing Jackie in person again. While he knew that you didn’t blame him for any of it, because they were reactions, he still felt like he’d let you down. I told her I’m in love with her and then seein’ Jackie froze me on my boots. He’d seen the hurt in your eyes, masked only by the surprise that filled them, and if he would have been able to speak, he would have told you that he felt the same - seeing Jackie with Lia and her husband hadn’t bothered him, it had simply caught him off guard - much the same way that being back in Ogden had, bringing everything that he hadn’t thought about in months back to the surface. But none of that matters.. 

 He finished the song he was playing and then without pausing, hs fingers started picking a familiar melody, jaw set as he remembered playing it on her porch, remembered her asking him to play more of it, remembered laying in bed with her and Jackie pointing out that the song was about her. Was it? He’d finished it on his way northwest to Portland, sending her a message that it was done and it was about her, but as Ryan made it past the first verse, he narrowed his eyes before closing them completely, head shaking back and forth as the words poured out. It never was. I thought it was but it… He opened his eyes again as he made it to the end of the second verse, fingers slowing as they moved over the strings. It’s not… it’s… Ryan squeezed the neck of your guitar tightly as he stopped playing, the sound trailing off. “It was never about Jackie.” Ryan swallowed, setting the guitar down and reaching for his phone. “Shit.” 

 It was after ten, meaning that he couldn’t call Ginny, and Ryan’s fingers curled around the device, teeth digging into his lower lip. It wasn’t about Jackie, because it was… He carefully slid your guitar back into the case and then stood, pacing around the room, one hand moving through his hair as his thoughts ran wild. That makes so much sense. So much sense, why didn’t ... His eyes darted to the back windows, but he knew you still needed some time, and so he didn’t run to the door, though it was all he wanted to do. He paced for a few more minutes, deep in thought, and then couldn’t wait any longer, loping up the steps without pause and taking his clothes off, digging through his suitcase for his swim trunks off before wrapping a towel around his waist. She’s gotta let me in, right? He frowned but didn’t stop, making his way back downstairs and out the door, seeing that you were facing away from the house, head tilted slightly upward to look at the stars. 

 Ryan approached you slowly, taking a deep breath, and even though the cement was cold against his feet, he stopped and waited, saying your name quietly. You didn’t respond for long moments, and when you turned your head toward him, Ryan saw that your cheeks were streaked with tears. Oh no. “Can I come in?” You stayed quiet, and when Ryan had decided you weren’t going to, you nodded once, closing your eyes and turning your head away. It’s a start. He dropped the towel, climbing into the hot tub and sitting opposite you, not knowing where to begin. Apologize. ‘I’m sorry.” You didn’t move, but he saw you open your eyes, staring upward again. “I wasn’t expectin’ to see her… to see them. Not like that.” He watched your fingers moving beneath the surface of the water, bubbles from the jet flowing through them. “I shoulda told you, when I thought I saw her, but I just figured… figured it was bein’ back here, that I wasn’t really… but it was her, an’ she…” Ryan shifted, sitting up straight. “She hasn’t yet, but she’s gonna reach out to me, probably through Lia’s account, or from her phone, or…” Ryan reached up, using one hand to wet his hair, slicking it back. “She definitely knows I’m here now, and she…”

 “She knows I’m here, too, Ry.” You finally looked at him, but he again saw only the sadness he knew you were feeling in your stare. “She still going to -”

 “Yeah, she won’t care.” He swallowed. “She wants somethin’, she’ll…” You scoffed, looking down at the swirling water. 

 “Does she still want you, Ryan Brenner?” He heard the contempt in your voice, something that was so out of character that it felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. I don’t blame her, though. “Does she... “ He moved while you were still speaking, sliding onto the seat next to yours and bringing one hand out of the water and to your chin, gripping it gently and forcing you to look at him. Your words died on your lips, and Ryan shook his head firmly. 

 “Don’t care what she wants or who she wants, because I don’t want her.” He pressed his lips together and waited, but you were too surprised to respond, so Ryan continued. “I want you.” Your eyes widened, but the look in them didn’t change. “I shouldn’t have to keep reminding you of that.” He sighed, reaching through the water with his free hand for one of yours. “But I will, because you need to hear it.” He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “I shouldn’t have stopped. I shouldn’t have been spacin’ out today at the Station. I shoulda been focusing on you.” 

 “Yeah.” Your voice almost too quiet to hear over the water, you finally spoke again. “You -” Ryan tilted his head, lips finding yours, but he didn’t try to prolong the kiss, knowing that it wasn’t the right call. “Ryan, what …”

 “I’m sorry.” He kissed you again, quickly, his hand dropping from your chin to your shoulder, gripping your wet skin as he twined his fingers with yours beneath the water’s surface. “I saw somethin’ on your face twice today that I … I never wanna see again.” He inhaled, curling his lip as he pressed his forehead to yours again, knees resting against your thigh as he leaned in. “”An’ I put it there.” Admitting it was the first step, but Ryan knew that it was the most important, and he needed you to know that he was serious. “This place is… I thought it was about Jackie, but it’s not, and now …” Ryan took a breath, hand moving back toward your neck, the tips of his fingers tightening at the base of it. “Now I know.” 

 The only sound was the bubbling of the water, and then Ryan heard you speak at the same time he felt you relax - slightly - under his touch. “Know what?” He felt the warmth of your breath hit his cheek, the fingers on the hand he wasn’t holding tentatively touching his ribs as the water swirled around them. “What do you know?” His heart thudding in his chest, Ryan sat up straight, waiting until you looked him in the eye to answer you. 

 “Southbound’s not about Jackie.” Your eyes flashed but you didn’t look away. “It’s never been about Jackie, even though I thought it was.” Ryan swallowed and then took a deep breath. “It’s about Ginny and Cowboy, and it… that’s why I couldn’t finish it til I got here, til … til I knew what happened to ‘im.” The same look of realization came over your face that he’d experienced, and Ryan watched as your eyebrows shot up, lips parting in surprise. “I… I’m gonna sing it with Ginny before we leave.” 

 --- 

 Your POV 

 You’d heard the door open and shut, heard Ryan’s quiet footsteps as he crossed the patio, and yet you didn’t reach up to wipe the tears from your face. No, let him see. He’d spoken to you and you heard the sadness in his voice, the hesitation, and yet you’d agreed to let him get into the hot tub with you. Because you’re an idiot. But that wasn’t it; it wasn’t idiocy that drove you to give him permission, it was the fact that you knew that his behavior earlier in the day hadn’t been the result of lingering feelings for Jackie or disinterest in you. In the time you’d known Ryan - nearly three years - you’d picked up on the fact that though he was road hardened, well-versed in tragedy and loss and struggle, he still felt everything, and often in a very different way than you would have expected. Ryan couldn’t hide his emotions or his reactions, and you were the one that had suffered from it the most in that particular instance. And this is the worst possible outcome. 

 You’d also believed that during your time in Ogden, you’d run into the woman, but hadn’t ever imagined it would be so out of nowhere, or that Ryan’s reaction would be as extreme. But it shouldn’t surprise me, you thought as he started speaking, the sincerity in his voice unlike you’d ever heard before as he apologized. But you couldn’t keep the bitterness out of your voice as you responded, the way the blonde’s eyes had slid from you to Ryan without pause fresh in your memory. Ryan’s movement toward you had taken you by surprise, though, the feeling of his fingers on your skin both welcome and enough to startle you, but the way he looked at you - along with his words - was enough to convince you that he was serious, and his touch grounded you, the gentle kisses full of meaning. He’s telling me the truth, he… 

 Ryan didn’t give you a chance to question him before continuing, and as he spoke you felt the truth in what he was saying, reaching out for him and tightening your fingers against his. The admission about Southbound stunned you, but it made sense. It wasn’t a love song - it never had seemed like one to you in all the times you’d heard it - but Ryan finally giving a voice to the way the song made him feel, what it was really about and what he wanted to do with it put the whole day into perspective for you, along with the way that you looked at Ogden as a whole. That’s why he came back. His admission about wanting to sing the song with Ginny floored you, and after staring into Ryan’s eyes for a few seconds, you nodded, reaching up to touch his cheek, the droplets of water collecting on his beard. “It wasn’t about Ogden, Ry.” He shook his head. “It was about…” You rook a breath, eyes searching his face. “Them and the way they…”

 “They’re my family.” He leaned in again, thumb sweeping over the side of your throat. “They were my only family for a while, an’...” You watched as his shoulders shook, Ryan’s breath leaving his body in one long exhale. “Now I’ve got you.” He wet his lips, scooting closer, and you moved too, allowing him. “I just needed to…”

 “I’m sorry I overreacted, Ryan.” He’d apologized to you, and you felt the need to do the same - not because you were in the wrong, but because you needed Ryan to know that you weren’t blaming him for his actions. It hurts but I know he… “I know that you don’t… I know how you feel about me, but I… she was right there, and she was looking at you, and you’d been thinking of…” 

 “I know.” He shifted on the seat, pulling on your hand and you turned so that your back was to him, your fingers sliding out of Ryan’s grasp. “I think,” he said as his hands moved to your shoulders, thumbs digging in, “that… I didn’t know what to think, until I got here.” You closed your eyes and flattened your palms on your thighs, Ryan releasing your shoulders as he gathered your hair into both hands, pushing it over one of them. “And then it all… seein’ Ginny and Henry, the mountains, the … I’ve got memories here, and the more I thought about ‘em, the more real it all was, you know?” He was kneading your skin with his hands, Ryan’s calloused fingers moving over your shoulders and upper back, your body relaxing by the second. “I didn’t… I didn’t see her an’ think ‘oh there she is, that’s what I’ve been missing’, I was just surprised, because the way she looked at me, through that window? She didn’t look at me like that for weeks before I left, and…” He stopped, and though both of his hands - warm and wet - were near your spine, you felt his lips against the top ridge of your shoulder, lingering for long seconds before he continued. “I wasn’t expectin’ it.”

 You’d seen the look on her face; the shock in her eyes, the way her lips had quivered just slightly as they parted, but you’d seen that her gaze had been locked on Ryan - on his face, on the man that she hadn’t seen in years but still had some sort of feelings for. “I wasn’t either, Ryan.” You sighed again, his hands working their way down the center of your back as his lips trailed over your shoulder and against your neck. “I didn’t…. don’t like seeing her look at you like that, because…” You looked down, chin near your chest. “Because I know there was a time when you looked at her like that, too.” You felt the movement of his hands falter, but Ryan’s lips didn’t, your name coming out in a quiet breath. His past was his past, but that didn’t mean that you wanted to be presented with it up close - and you had been. “She looked at you like I look at you, Ryan, like she l-”

 “Jackie didn’t ever love me.” His beard scraped against the thin skin of your throat, Ryan’s voice low in your ear. “If she did, she woulda understood that I needed to be me, and she wouldn’t have…” You turned your head to the side, Ryan’s hands at the center of your back, and his face only inches from yours. “She didn’t look at me like you do.” He leaned in, nose brushing against yours as he sought out your lips, your eyes dropping briefly. I’m still upset, but… “And I never saw her the way I see you. Stop comparin’ yourself to her.” You were nodding before you’d even realized it, turning your entire body toward Ryan’s, both arms going around his shoulders as you allowed yourself to be pulled onto his lap. 

 “I hate feeling like this, Ryan, it makes me…” You kissed him, closing your eyes and then squeezing them shut. “Makes me feel…” Small. Stupid. Like I don’t deserve you. 

 “I’m glad you do.” He groaned as his hands moved up and down your sides, lips on yours, teeth scraping gently over your skin. “Because you mean it.” You hummed quietly, waiting, and Ryan didn’t make you wait long. “You wouldn’t be upset if you didn’t care, an’ you’re real upset.” I am. Ryan’s lips were on yours again, kiss more insistent, but he still wasn’t trying to take it further; holding you but not pulling you, keeping you in place on his lap but not forcing you to stay. “Tell me what to do.” You swallowed, feeling his lips move with each word, and you closed your eyes again, moving your fingers through the damp hair at the base of his neck, thinking. Do I keep going? Do I let this… is it over? 

 “I don’t want to be jealous of her, Ryan.” You licked your lips, head shaking back and forth twice. “Because I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m…” Your mind raced. What am I? “I hate her, Ryan, for what she tried to do to you, and I hate that you felt anything for her and that she…” You were crying again, the frustration that you’d felt toward the woman for the whole time you’d known of her pouring out - and misdirected at Ryan. “I hate that she still thinks she can…” 

 “She can’t.” He was holding you more tightly, chests pressed together. “I told you, it wasn’t because I wanted to stop, I just… wasn’t expectin’ it, and after what happened between you an’ me earlier, I… it was too much of a coincidence.” His hand left your side and cradled the back of your head, Ryan urging you to sit up straight and look at him. “I’m here for Ginny and Henry. That’s it. Here with you.” He leaned in. “And after Ogden? We’re going to go get our stuff and go to the next place, just like we planned.” He was determined, you could hear it in his voice, and you nodded, feeling your chest grow tight. We are. 

 “I know, Ry.” You took a deep breath, pulling your hand away from the back of his head and placing it against his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath your palm. “That’s what I want.” He looked relieved and you felt relieved, trying to smile at the man in front of you. “We haven’t had a real…” You paused, thinking, and Ryan’s hands rested against your hips, thumbs hooked beneath the elastic of your bathing suit bottoms, slowly rubbing against the skin there. “A real fight or -”

 “This isn’t a fight.” You watched as his lips twitched into a slight smile, his dark eyes moving over your face. “This is both of us realizin’ that we…” Ryan’s eyes closed, head rolling back and forth before he looked at you again. “That we’ve been keepin’ some feelings from each other at the same time we got …” One eyebrow lifted, Ryan’s eyes still on yours. “Reminded of the past.” The past. She’s his past. “I’m not gonna fight with you.” Ryan bit his lip. “Won’t do any good, cuz you’ll just win anyway, so…” You laughed at that, quietly but it was enough, and Ryan leaned in to kiss you again, lips soft on yours, fingers tightening on your skin. “I -”

 “Love you, Ryan.” You shifted on his lap, relaxing against his chest as Ryan repeated the words to you, both of you sinking further into the hot water. “You think Ginny’s gonna want to sing with you? I know you guys …”

 “She used to. She’s got a better voice than I do, an’ even if she hasn’t used it in a while, I’m sure she… when I explain, I’m sure she’ll…” He sighed, both arms around you. “That’s my second favorite song I’ve ever written, you know that?” 

 “I didn’t, Ryan.” He was tracing over your thigh with one long finger, his chin resting on your shoulder. “But second? I figured it -”

 “First is the one that I wrote right after we met. The one I played for you on Christmas?” What? “That song’s for you, no doubt about it.” He paused, turning his head so that he could speak directly into your ear, voice barely audible over the sound of the hot tub. “Knowin’ that you’d heard that song at least once made me happy.” He kissed the side of your face and you felt him wrinkle his nose before his teeth closed around your earlobe, pressure gentle but still making you shiver, though the water was steaming hot. “Gettin’ to play it for you that first time in your basement?” Ryan groaned, nuzzling against your shoulder and pulling you closer. “Best feeling I’ve ever…” Your heart pounding, you pulled yourself off of Ryan’s lap and stood abruptly, turning to face him. 

 You felt the cold air hit your skin immediately, watching Ryan’s eyes drop to your chest and then rise again, settling on your face. “Was it?” He nodded, chest rising and falling rapidly. “I know you, Ryan Brenner.” You stepped back toward him, Ryan’s legs parting so that you could stand between them, your fingers trailing down his bare chest while the other hand combed through his hair, pushing the dark strands away from his face. “And I know you mean what you say.” He stayed quiet, watching you, but you felt his hands on the backs of your thighs, moving in slow circles. “But so do I.” You chewed on your lower lip for a few seconds, thinking, and then tilted your head to the side. “So I’ll never keep how I’m feeling from you, because that won’t…” You smiled, blowing out a deep breath. “That won’t help, and I know that, so��” You shrugged, fingers closing on his hair and tugging. “So I’m not gonna do it again, starting now.” 

 “Good.” He grinned at you, and you could tell that he was ready to say something else, though he stayed quiet. What? “I don’t want you to.” He leaned forward, looking up at you as he gripped your legs, holding you in place. “You gonna sit back down, or…?” Am I? You watched him, searching his face, and after only a few seconds, you’d made a decision. None of this matters. He’s here with me. He wants to be, and I want…

 “No.” You stepped back, pulling your hands away from Ryan, but didn’t break eye contact. “I’m going to bed, and I want you to come with me.” 

--- 

 Ryan’s POV 

 The following two days passed quickly - him spending an afternoon with Ginny and Henry while you drove around Ogden, taking pictures one day, and then the four of you meeting for dinner at the house the next, you throwing together a meal of spaghetti and meatballs and entertaining Henry while Ryan and Virginia practiced his song. She’d been more than willing to sit and listen to his explanation of writing Southbound and why it had taken so long for him to realize what it was about, but she’d been apprehensive about singing with him. She doesn’t need to be. Ginny’s voice had been perfectly suited to the melody, and after playing it a few times for her, as well as giving her a lyric sheet, the two of them had gone through it together, trying different things out. It felt good to be singing and playing with Ginny again, the woman using Cowboy’s guitar, Ryan sitting on the couch with your dad’s in his hands. This is right. 

 By the time the two of them left your rental on the fourth night in Ogden, making plans to have Ginny’s parents watch Henry so that the three of you could go out for a few drinks after recording on the second to last night you’d be in the city, Ryan had pushed the stress of the first 36 hours of the trip to the side, focusing on you and Ginny - and on Henry. The dinosaur museum was closed, but Ryan had spent a few hours with the boy while Ginny ran errands, and as the minutes passed, he realized that there was no way that he could remain out of the his life - or Virginia’s. Telling her as much as she packed her stuff to leave your place, Ryan was surprised to see tears gathering in the corners of Virginia’s eyes, her pale fingers reaching up to wipe them away. 

 “I didn’t think you’d come, Ry.” She sniffed and shook her head. “I pushed you away for so long, I had no right to expect…” 

 “You’re family, Ginny. You and Henry always will be. An’ it might take me a minute,  but I’ll always be here for you.” He gestured around them to the large, open room with one hand, reaching out to squeeze one of her hands with his other one. “It’s not like it was before, I’m not… I’ve got some money saved now, Gin, so if you guys ever need anything, just…” 

 “Just need you, Ryan. Henry will need you too, because you’re the only other one to… that knows his daddy like I did.” She smiled at him, the expression softening her features. “He’s still young, but he’s gettin’ bigger, and he’ll…”

 “I’ll be here, Ginny.” Ryan pulled her to his chest, hugging the woman tightly. “Whenever you need me.” 

 They’d left just before seven, and you and Ryan had changed clothes before ordering a car to take you back downtown and to the brewery that he’d told you about, which was crowded - but not too crowded. A few drinks in, the two of you were having a good time, sharing stories of travel along with flights of beer, wanting to sample the local brews before committing. This is nice. You hadn’t had much downtime together in the prior few months, and though the future was uncertain, Ryan was enjoying just relaxing with you. This is what Ogden should have been like. This is what me bein’ happy feels like. He watched you as you talked to the bartender, pointing out things on the menu and asking questions, and Ryan leaned back in his chair, the sounds of the people around you a dull, comforting buzz. 

 Around eleven, you ordered food, choosing a bunch of different tacos and two appetizers - the beehive cheese curds and dirty fries - Ryan grinning at you over the rim of his glass as you teased him about always being hungry. Tryin’ not to be hungover tomorrow at this point. While you waited you ordered more drinks, and as the bartender set them down in front of you, he was surprised to hear you say his name, turning his head to find that you’d leaned in, eyes focused on his face. “What?” The word slipped out with a laugh, but before he could say anything else, you were kissing him, one hand flat on the bartop, the other one gripping his thigh. This is new. When you pulled away, laughing quietly, he raised one hand, pushing your hair back and tucking it behind your ear. “What’s gotten into you tonight?” 

 You shugged, staring at him and drawing your lower lip into your mouth and between your teeth. “Just having fun, Ryan. I like you like this.” You winked, leaning back and raising your glass, taking a long drink of your newest beer - a lager that he’d tasted and enjoyed, too. “That alright?” More than alright. The rest of the night passed quickly, the two of you piling back into a car and heading to the rental a little after 1 am, your head resting on Ryan’s shoulder as the darkened streets of Ogden flew by. “This was fun.” It was. He kept his hand on your back as you typed in the door code, following you into the house and foregoing turning the lights on to trail upstairs after you in the dark. This could be… 

 He waited until you brushed your teeth to head into the bathroom, doing the same, and by the time he walked back into the bedroom, you were laying in bed, face illuminated by the glowing screen of your phone. He watched you from the doorway for a few seconds and then stepped back across the room, taking his shirt off and dropping it onto the floor before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his own phone, tossing it onto the bed before taking his jeans off. “You good?” You nodded, the pillow rustling beneath your head as Ryan climbed into bed, pulling the blanket over himself. “I’m glad.” He took a few deep breaths, picking up the phone and unlocking it, his breath catching at the alert on the screen. Shit. Ryan felt his body stiffen and knew that you had, too, based on the way you darkened your own screen and rolled to face him. 

 “What’s wrong?” His eyes scanned the message and Ryan grimaced, reading through it before he handed the phone to you, still not saying anything. “Oh.” You exhaled, reading out loud. “Ryan - I wanted to message you the other night, but didn’t. I know that you said everything you had to say to me on the phone, but I know you’re in Ogden… or at least you were. If you’re still here, I want to see you, maybe meet for lunch or a coffee or something. I tried calling you, but I’m guessing you blocked my number, so if you want to catch up, just get back to me through here.” You took a deep breath and Ryan watched your jaw work as you stared at the screen. “Or you can call me.” You turned your head to look at him, the light from his phone catching your eyes. “You gonna answer it?” He answered immediately. 

 “Definitely not tonight.” You didn’t speak, and he continued. “She can see that I read it, so if I ignore it, she’ll know that I’m not interested in talking to her, but -”

 “You should respond to it, Ryan.” You scooted closer, his screen gong dark and eliminating most of the light in the room. “One way or another, just… don’t leave the door open.” You were right, but Ryan still didn’t know how to respond. “You’ve only got two days before we leave, and -” 

 “I’ll tell her no, tell her that I don’t want to see…” He watched as you gave him a skeptical look. “What?” 

 “Ryan, she saw you. She saw me. She still reached out, and…” You laid a hand on his abdomen. “Telling her no isn’t going to…”

 “You think I should go?” He waited for your response, rolling onto his side to face you. “I would have thought that you-” 

 “Maybe she needs closure? She’s been married for a while now, Ryan, maybe it means nothing that she wants to see you, maybe…” Yeah, right. That’s not how this works. Not with Jackie. “I know she -”

 ‘“Do you want to meet her?” The words slipped out before Ryan could stop them and he heard you swear under your breath. “I mean, I know you don’t want to meet her, but…” He waited, and you didn’t respond. “I-”

 “She wouldn’t agree to that, Ryan. She doesn’t want me, she wants -”

 “That’s not how this works.” He leaned in, catching you off guard and kissing you, voice firm. “She wants to see me, she’s gonna see me on my terms, and I don’t… won’t leave you outta that, unless you don’t want to go.” He sighed, kissing you again, and was relieved when he felt your fingers against his side, running over the lines of his tattoo as you pulled yourself closer to his chest. “I’ll message back  tomorrow, and…”

 “Invite her to bring her husband, Ry.” You mumbled the words, voice slow and full of the onset of sleep. “Bet she won’t bring him.” No she definitely wouldn’t. 

--- 

 The next afternoon, you and Ryan parked in a small lot in front of a bakery called Kneaders, but once you put the car into park, you made no move to get out. “You ok?” He leaned over, reaching for you, and after a few seconds of quiet, you looked over at him, a bright - though somewhat forced smile on your face. 

 “Yes. Who wouldn’t be alright when they were about to meet their boyfriend’s ex, who for some reason is still trying to contact him after nearly four years and -” You cut yourself off, closing your eyes. “I can’t promise I’m going to be nice, Ryan, not the whole time anyway.” He laughed, squeezing your hand. 

 “Wouldn’t expect you to.” You looked back at him, a surprised expression on your face. “I’m just glad you’re here with me.” Your smile softened and you nodded. “Look, we do this… no more than an hour, and then we go back and wait for Ginny to come over to record, and then the three of us go out and have fun.” That’s all I want right now, just you and Ginny and that song, but… “We should go in, though, the longer we…” You were moving before he was done speaking, pulling the keys out of the ignition and getting out of the car, hood pulled up to combat the wind as you walked to his side of the car. It was snowing - just lightly, but you still stopped, waiting for him to step next to you. He reached for your hand, squeezing it once and then you moved to the door as Ryan’s arm wound around your waist and pulled you to his side. Here we go. 

 The inside of the cafe was nice - and Ryan would have felt out of place had he stopped in on his previous trips to Ogden, but standing next to you as you eyed your surroundings, he was comfortable. Jackie had picked the place, and as the two of you made your way inside, he realized why. She wanted to throw me off, wanted to make me focus on her and not… shit. “Fancy.” You leaned in, whispering the  word into his ear. “This somewhere you’d come when -”

 “No, not even close.” He turned his head to face you, feeling himself smile. “I’d be fine with a black coffee from a gas station, but…” You laughed, leaning into his shoulder, and Ryan felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the building you were in. “Want to order or should we -”

 “She’s over there, Ry. I saw her when we walked in.” You pulled your hand from his, reaching up to push your fingers through his hair. “Should probably go and introduce me first, and then I can go order while you… catch up.” You looked worried - but just for a second - and Ryan nodded, leaning in to press his lips against yours quickly, hearing the quiet intake of your breath. Nothin’ to worry about. 

 “Let’s get this over with.” He stood up, slowly turning to look through the seating area, which had more than a few people sitting in it, but Ryan found Jackie quickly, sitting at a small table near one of the front windows. She was wearing a tan coat, unbuttoned, but the red scarf still around her neck looked familiar. Is that?  You started walking first, heading for the woman, and Ryan followed, his heartbeat quickening with each step. “Hey, Jackie.” His voice sounding foreign to his ears, Ryan stopped next to the table where she sat, staring down. “How are you?” He watched as Jackie’s eyes widened again, her gaze settled on his face. Her hair was down and longer than it had been the last time he’d seen her in person, and though her face looked much the same, he saw that she looked tired, even though she had a small smile on her lips.

 “Ryan.” The way she said his name made him want to step back, but Ryan felt you next to him, your fingers again wound tightly with his, and so he stayed put. “It’s so good to see you. You look -”

 He cut Jackie off, nodding and clearing his throat. “Thanks.” Ryan glanced down, taking a deep breath before he introduced you by name, squeezing your hand tighter. “Where’s your h-”

 “He couldn’t make it, Ryan.” Jackie relaxed into her seat, still staring at Ryan, and he realized that she hadn’t even glanced at you, instead staying focused on him. Wow. “Had to work, so it’s just us.” She picked her mug up - and Ryan noticed that she was drinking tea instead of coffee. “Sit?” She used her tongue to dry her lips as she set it down, gesturing at the seat across from her. “You’ll have to pull up a second chair for her, but…”  Ryan caught the slight tic of her jaw as she referenced you, but instead of taking the seat, he pulled it out for you, gesturing for you to sit before he turned to his left, pulling an empty chair from a nearby table. As he settled in, Ryan debated over whether or not to put an arm around the back of your chair but chose not to. No reason to antagonize her, not until I know what she wants out of this. “So how have you been, Ryan? I’ve seen your Instagram, you’ve played a lot of places, and written a lot -”

 “I have.” He cleared his throat, leaning forward slightly. “Learned a lot in the last couple years, made some new friends, wrote a lot of new music, and it’s good.” Ryan smiled as he thought about the places that you’d been as time passed. “Been recordin’ with a lot of people, and…”

 “Recording?” She sounded surprised, leaning in too. “In a studio? I thought you -”

 “No.” He leaned back, looking over at you and seeing that you were watching him intently, a lopsided smile on your face and a calm look in your eyes. Good. She’s fine. “Just at home, or in our place, or…” He shrugged. “A studio’s great and all, but it’s not what I’m lookin’ for, and it’s one of the reasons we’ve been moving around so much, because it’s easier to see the people I need to see that way.” He watched Jackie’s eyebrows raise, the woman taking another drink of her tea. No ring, why isn’t she wearing her… “How ‘bout you, Jackie? Lia’s messaged me a couple times, seems like she’s … doing well.” 

 “She is. She’s so damn smart, Ryan, she wanted to see you too, when she found out that you were here, but she’s in school and…” Jackie’s voice changed as she talked about Lia and Ryan couldn’t help but smile, thinking of the girl. “She’s still playing your guitar, and she’s gotten so much better, we play together a couple nights a week and it’s…” Jackie reached over, stopping herself from touching Ryan’s hand and he had to force himself not to pull it back. “I don’t know why I never thought of trying to teach her, but now it’s like…” Jackie pressed her lips together. “You gave her somethin’ that I couldn’t, and…”

 “I’m glad, Jackie. You’ll have to tell her I said hi, that I’m sorry I missed her, woulda liked to see…” Ryan ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe I’ll message her, see how she’s doin’.” He looked over at you. “You want somethin’ to drink? We’ve been sitting here, and…”

 “Yeah, I can go order, do you want anything to eat?” He nodded, glancing over his shoulder at the menu.

 “You pick, you know what I like.” When he looked back at you, he saw that you were holding back a grin, agreeing as you stood. “You need -”

 “Nah, I got it.” You paused before heading to the counter, looking back at Jackie and addressing her directly. “Can I get you anything, Jackie?” Ryan’s eyes flicked to the blonde, waiting for her response. “Another tea, or maybe a muffin or…”

 “More tea would be great, thanks.” She pushed the mug across the table. “Herbal, the citrus?” You reached out, picking up the mug and nodding. “Maybe some of the cinnamon bread?” You didn’t reply before you turned, but Ryan knew you were annoyed, and though he wanted to look after you as you headed to order, he didn’t, instead turning back to Jackie and staring at her. Alright, you’ve got me alone, what do you really want? “You look incredible, Ryan.” Jackie leaned in, shoulders dropping. “You look...happy.” 

 “I am.” He gestured to you with one hand, staring at Jackie. “We are. She an’ I have been movin’ across the country, renovating houses and just… it’s been nice. I still get to travel and see the world, but it’s…”

 “What does she do?” Jackie sniffed. “She have a job, or -”

 “She’s a photographer. Had a couple gallery shows last year.” Ryan looked down at his hands, fingers knotted on the tabletop. “Was livin’ like me before we even met, and she understands me, Jackie. What I need and who I am.” He met the woman’s eyes again, narrowing his. “What I want. She’s supportive of my music, and … and it’s a nice change from everything bein’ so uncertain.” Jackie let out a breath, her thumb moving over her ring finger as if seeking out the band she usually wore. “I’m in love with her, Jackie. Have been for a while, and it’s… There’s never been anything like it before for me.” It was true, and though Ryan knew it was probably hard for the woman to hear, he didn’t want to sugarcoat anything. 

 “So you’ll stay with her.” Jackie set her lips in a straight line, staring at him. “Just meet her and stay with her and it’s no big deal but when -”

 “It wasn’t like that.” Not that it’s any of your business. “We met and spent a weekend together in Vegas, but it wasn’t… we both left, both went back to our lives after that, and it … there was a connection, Jackie, right from the beginning. We didn’t even see each other in person for almost a year after that first weekend, andd then I got hurt, and then when we did find each other again, it just… made sense. Both of us just want… I realized what’s important to me, and that’s why I stopped with the trains, stopped with the…”

 “Hurt?” She was concerned again, this time not stopping as she reached out and laid her hand on his sleeve. “What did… are you OK?” 

 “I’m fine now, but I got sidelined in St. Louis for months because I broke my wrist, couldn’t do anything about it, and…” Ryan shrugged, pulling his hand back and rubbing at his arm, his fingers pressing down on the tattoo there. “Made me think about a lot, Jackie, about what was important, what I needed, and what -”

 “She didn’t come get you? Didn’t come to you when you were -”

 “No.” He spoke the single word as a warning, voice dropping. “No, I lost my phone when I hurt myself, and she didn’t have any way of gettin’ ahold of me, and I couldn’t reach her either.” Ryan’s nose twitched as he leaned all the way back in his chair. “Worst three and a half months of my life, not bein’ able to let her know I was alright.” Jackie closed her eyes, collecting her thoughts. “So when I found her again, in a park in Philadelphia? Knew I had to do somethin’ about it. I was done with the road, done travelin’. I was only going back up the coast to see Georgie one more time, say goodbye, and it wasn’t… I shouldn’t have found her. She shouldn’t have found me, but we did. And I can’t ignore that.” 

 “Of course you can’t.” Jackie looked down at her own hands, the sleeves of her sweater pulled to her knuckles. “I guess I always thought, Ryan, that you came back to me once, so you’d do it again, when you got the … when you wanted to settle down?” Jackie ran a hand through her hair, a quiet laugh reaching his ears. “You never gave me a chance, Ryan, not a real one.” Yes I did. “When you said you’d stay here, with me… with us, I said I needed you to try, to get a job, to want to…”

 “I did, Jackie. But it wasn’t enough. Ogden wasn’t enough, bein’... in the middle of a family wasn’t enough. I needed  to do things on my own because I wanted to, not because you told me to.” He looked down and then back over his shoulder at you, seeing that you were next to order. “I needed to build my own life, not let someone… move things around and make space for me.” She inhaled, holding her breath, and Ryan kept going. “I told you on the phone that I didn’t want to come back  and see you, I didn’t need to, that I didn’t… I wasn’t going to make decisions for you.” Ryan pointed at her hand. “You’re not wearin’ a ring right now, but you were with your husband the other night. You got married, Jackie, so that means that you gave up on me comin’ back, or … at the very least, don’t want it as much anymore.” It was the most he’d ever said to the woman in one conversation, but Ryan felt good about being honest with Jackie, face to face. “We had a few good days, Jackie. Some good times when I was here, but that’s it.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “What is it that you said, sometimes people just come through to tell you somethin’ and it’s alright that they go? That’s what I did. And it is alright. Because you met him and I met her, and I’m supposed to be with her. It feels right, and that’s not gonna change.” 

 “Does she know?” Jackie swallowed, eyes glistening. “Does she know what I meant to you, what -” You didn’t… it didn’t… 

 “She knows everything.” He felt his lip curl. “And there’s nothing that you can say or do that’s going to change my mind, Jackie. I don’t -”

 “Sorry that took so long.” You returned to the table, a small tray in one hand and a drink carrier in the other. “Decided to get a bread and pastry sampler, so…” Ryan reached over, automatically taking the tray from your hands and setting it down, your quiet thanks following. “Only one cinnamon bread so you can have that, Jackie, but…” You lowered yourself into your set, and Ryan watched as you looked first at him and then at Jackie, frowning. “Everything OK?” There was a few seconds of quiet and then Jackie’s expression changed, her lips shifting into a wide smile. 

 “Yes. Everything’s great, Ryan was just telling me about how the two of you met.” She licked her lips, and Ryan watched as she unwrapped the scarf before shrugging out of her coat. “But if you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, I just have to…” Jackie slid sideways on the booth bench, and then as she stood, Ryan felt his eyes widen. What? “I’ll be right back.” Jackie passed by him, and Ryan felt her hand brush up against his shoulder as she moved. That was on purpose, but… she… He waited to speak and then turned in his seat to look at you, seeing that your eyes were wide and you were watching him with one eyebrow raised. “I… is she…”

 “Ryan…” You reached toward him, laying your hand atop his on the table. “Are -”

 “She’s pregnant?” His voice low, Ryan shook his head. “She’s acting like this and she’s…” Jesus. 

 --- 

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[something-tofightfor]

Just a Place - Part 9

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader

Word Count: 10,155 (it got long but there was nowhere else for me to cut it)

Rating: M (language, implied zest)

Summary: As you and Ryan head back to Utah - and back to see Ginny and Henry, parts of his past begin to resurface... but can you and Ryan get past them while at ground zero? 

Author’s Note: I need to stop neglecting Ryan Brenner. But this and the next chapter are difficult for reasons that I am SURE you will understand. Thanks to you guys for your patience!

Your POV 

 By the time you were passing through Layton, Ryan had fallen silent, and so had you. He’d taken over driving in Price when you’d stopped for gas, and though the two of you had continued to talk, you could tell that Ryan’s attention wasn’t fully on you. This isn’t going to be an easy trip. You knew that it was partially because of Jackie, but with the way he was acting, you were almost positive that Ryan was more worried about seeing Virginia again after so long, having to re-live the loss of his best friend. “Ry?” You looked over at him, reaching over with your left hand to turn the radio down. “You don’t have to call her today, we can -”

 “No.” He shook his head, eyes on the road. “No, I told Ginny we’d be getting in today, an’ I can’t… we should…” You nodded, but didn’t say anything else. “What time can we check in?” You pulled your phone out, opening the app and tapping through to your reservation. You’d looked into hotels, but had instead chosen an Airbnb, since they were about the same price, and there had been more to pick from. 

 “Any time, Ryan.” You scrolled through the pictures of the place you’d rented - an entire house with a hot tub out back, only a few minutes from Ginny’s apartment complex - and sighed. “We just have to check in with the keypad, but the host said as long as it was after noon, we were -”

 “Good.” Ryan nodded at you, taking his eyes off of the road for long enough to look down at the clock. “You promised me m-” 

 “I know what I promised you, Ryan Brenner.” You reached over again, this time placing your hand on his knee. “And trust me, I plan on making good on that promise.” You watched his lips twitch into a smile. “But I think we should stop and get some stuff for the house first, in case we’re with Ginny too late.” He sighed, not answering right away. “Ryan, I don’t know how late -”

 “You’re right.” He glanced over and you saw the look in his eyes, the intensity catching you by surprise. “I’m just lookin’ forward to getting out of this car.” You laughed, glad to hear that he was joking with you, even though you could still tell that he was off, and decided to ignore it, letting Ryan deal with being back in the city in his own way. You reached forward, tapping in the address of a grocery store into the GPS and settling back into your seat as it rerouted you.

 “It’s nice here, Ry.” You turned your head to look out the window, eyes moving over the landscape. He exited the highway, turning onto W 2100, and you grinned. “I definitely get the appeal of living in the mountains, it’s a lot different from the coast.” 

 “It is.” He nodded, slowing down with traffic, his hands tight on the steering wheel. “Wakin’ up to the mountains is real nice, even in the summer. We’ll have to… we’ll have to try it out sometime.” You parked soon after that, and hurried into the store, buying enough food and drinks to last you a few days - a couple six packs of beer included. You and Ryan hadn’t had true time off since you’d left Texas months prior, and even though you knew that being in Ogden wouldn’t be easy for him, you still wanted to take the time to relax. After all, we’ll be here for a week. 

 Satisfied with your purchases, you got back into the car, you climbing into the driver’s seat, and within fifteen minutes, you’d parked in the driveway of your rented home. You put the groceries away while Ryan carried in your stuff, dragging both suitcases up the stairs and into the master bedroom while he left the guitars in the living room. By the time you were done, he still hadn’t come back downstairs and so you went looking for him, fingers trailing over the wall as you walked. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread and his hands clasped between them, eyes trained on the floor. Pausing in the doorway, you watched him for a few seconds without speaking. “It’s weird bein’ back here, and we haven’t even been to…” Ryan shook his head. “Never been to this part of Ogden before, this far east?” He looked up at you, worry in his eyes. “Feels like comin’ back somewhere after I ran from… from a mistake.” 

 Stepping fully into the room, you made your way to the bed, sitting next to him. “What mistake would that be?” He didn’t answer right away and you could tell that he was thinking about it. Whatever he says, you have to … 

 “Not tryin’ harder.” His voice was quiet, and Ryan reached out to take your hand, thumb moving over the back of it before he linked his fingers with yours. “Not with…” You looked over at him, watching his head shake back and forth, hair hanging over his eyes. “With Ginny. With Cowboy. I knew where they were long before I made my way up here the first time, an’ when I was here, it was just about… gettin’ to Portland. I shoulda come sooner. I could have…” Ryan squeezed your hand. “I was supposed to be here a couple months before I ended up… If I would… he…”

 “Ryan, it’s not your fault he went out again.” You inched closer to him, reaching over your body with your free hand to squeeze his knee. “They were traveling up until Virginia was a couple months pregnant, right?” He nodded. “I’m not surprised, then, that he felt like he needed to go. And he would have done the same even if you’d been here, Ry. You can’t blame yourself for what happened to him, because he was an adult and he made his choices. What would you have tried harder to do?” 

 “Get here. Stay here. Be here for them when they -”

 “Ryan.” At the tone of your voice, he looked up, locking eyes with you. “You did what you could. No one expects anything more than that.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off again. “You were here when Ginny found out. She wasn’t alone. You were here for the funeral. You were here and you offered yourself to her if she needed you. She turned you down, and I don’t blame her, but you shouldn’t blame yourself, either. Getting here a week earlier wouldn’t have changed anything. Getting here a month earlier wouldn’t have changed anything, except you getting to see Cowboy before he left. He still would have gone, Ryan, and …” You took a breath. “You said they weren’t able to determine…” He winced and you stopped. “No one knows exactly what happened, so what if… what if you’d been with him, Ryan?” He lowered his head further. “She could have lost you both. But she didn’t. You’re here now when it matters the most, because Henry’s going to get to grow up with you, and even if you’re not living here, or you don’t see him much? Virginia wants you in his life - and hers.” There’s nothing else I can say. Nothing… he… 

 “Still feels like a mistake.” Ryan’s voice was tinged with regret, and he looked over at you again, honesty written on his face. “Like I… gave up on Ginny and Henry to … to make myself happy. I was so focused on Jackie and Lia and myself that I didn’t…” Ryan shook his head. “I hightailed it outta here right after the funeral and -”

 “You were grieving, Ryan. Cowboy was your best friend and you went from thinking he was gonna come home to finding out he was gone in a few days. This isn’t your home, and no one expected you to stay.”

 “Someone did.” He looked at you again, lips pressed together. “Someone tried to -”

 “Ryan, Jackie wanted you to stay here because she was staying here. She didn’t care what that meant for you because she was so focused on her own life that she…” You trailed off, realizing that it was the first time you’d spoken the woman’s name out loud to Ryan in months. “You came back here because you thought it…” Is he having second thoughts? Does he want… “You wanted to see how it felt, Ryan. How it felt to be with her, how it felt to try something more permanent, how it felt to have a life with her, like Virginia and Cowboy did together.”

 “No.” It was a single word, but you heard the effort it took for him to say it. “Ginny and Cowboy, they… they loved each other from the beginning. Always. Completely. I met ‘em when they were real young, but … I never thought that Jackie and I would have that, because she and I we… we were too different.” Then why’d you stay with her? Why’d you… “I never thought I’d fall in love, but I thought that Jackie was… would be… enough.”  Your heart broke for Ryan; not because of what he was saying, but because you could hear in his tone that he’d believed it. “But it wasn’t, and when I figured that out, I felt like I’d done somethin’ wrong with that, too because she wasn’t enough, and I made her feel like maybe she could be.” 

 “Ryan, you…” You pulled your hand away from his leg, letting it fall back into your own lap. “I figured we’d have to talk about this while we were here, but I didn’t think that…” You looked down, eyes focused on the carpet beneath your feet. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You weren’t happy, and so you left. It would have been wrong to pretend - with any of them. Just like it’d be wrong if you were pretending with me.” You said it. “I don’t want to find out years down the road that you were just trying to make up for something by being with me, that you resent -”

 “Stop.” He turned his body to face yours, reaching over to put a hand on your shoulder. “You know that’s not what this is, what… what it’s been.” Looking up slowly, you met his eyes as he said your name. “You heard those recordings, know how I feel about you.” Yeah, but… “What happened between Jackie and me and Ginny and Cowboy and me is somethin’ that I’m gonna have to deal with, and bein’ here - really bein’ here isn’t going to be easy, but it’s overdue.” Ryan paused, wetting his lips. “I feel guilty. I feel … upset. But you’re right. It doesn’t mean that doin’ things differently would have changed anything, and that’s what I have to keep…” He shook his head. “I never thought I’d have … that I’d get to meet someone that…” He brought the hand up from your shoulder to your chin, curling his fingers beneath it and rubbing his thumb slowly over your lips. “But I did.” You did. 

 Neither of you said anything for a few minutes, and though you had to look away from him, averting your gaze from his eyes, your heart rate didn’t slow. It seemed like every few months, you and Ryan had one of these conversations, and while you didn’t mind them, because it reaffirmed the feelings that both of you had for each other, you had to wonder if, at some point, they’d get to be too much - too often. This is normal, right? This is… “Ryan?” You looked back at him, nervously biting your lip. “Are you going to need to see…” 

 “No.” He shook his head, using the hand that had been on your face to push his hair back. “No, I said everything that I had to say when we talked on the phone.” You felt a surge of relief course through your body, because you could hear in his voice that he meant it. Alright. Good. I guess… “An’ I think that once I see Ginny, I won’t even feel… it’s just….” He shrugged. “So much time to think, it’s all I -”

 “Alright, Ry.” You leaned in, taking a breath before you kissed his cheek, nodding your head. “I just wanted to make sure.” He turned his head, lips meeting yours, and even though it was a brief kiss, it reassured you. 

 “I ruined it, didn’t I?” He pulled his hand from yours and moved it to your side, the other one returning to your cheek. “Had every intention of gettin’ you here and makin’ sure that you -” You felt his lip curl, heard the intent behind his words. You didn’t ruin anything, Ryan. “Did you see our shower?” You shook your head, feeling Ryan’s grip on you tighten as you moved your hand back to his knee. “I did. I wanna see you in that shower.” Your fingers tightened on his leg, but you didn’t otherwise respond. “Maybe both of them, actually.” You sighed, feeling yourself smile as you raised your other hand to his hair, tugging on it, his lips moving lower on your face. “And the tub.” He kissed you again, teeth closing around your lip for a brief second. “And on the couch.” 

 “Ryan?” He hummed against your throat, fingers tangling in your hair. “Let’s start with the bed.” He nodded and you leaned back, feeling him push you down against the mattress. 

 “I can do that.”

--- 

 Later that afternoon - after you and Ryan had cleaned yourselves up and eaten a small lunch, you lounged on the couch with your head in his lap while he called Ginny. “Hey, we’re here.” He was quiet for a few seconds, listening, and you smiled up at him. He sounded more relaxed, and while you knew that the conversation you’d had earlier had only been tabled and not forgotten, you knew that he’d been right - when he saw Ginny, saw that she didn’t blame him for his actions years earlier, he’d be much more comfortable in the city. Even though she’s here somewhere. Somewhere close. It had taken everything in you not to try and look up Jackie’s address with her new husband, figuring out where they lived so that you could book a place to stay as far from them as possible - but you’d refrained, telling yourself that if you were meant to run into her - or into them - while you were in the city, it’s what would happen. “Yeah, we’re actually stayin’ pretty close to you, I think. She looked up your address and -” Ryan laughed, looking down. “Lemme ask.” He pulled the phone away from his mouth. “Ginny wants to know if you want to have dinner tonight.” 

 ‘Yes.” You nodded. “They want to come here, or go out, or…” Ryan moved the hand that had been resting against your chest, covering your mouth with it. Hey. 

 “You hear her, Gin?” He laughed. “Yeah. I’ll let her know.” Ryan raised an eyebrow. “There’s a place up the road that Henry likes, figures it’ll be better to…” You nodded immediately, understanding and Ryan moved his hand back to its previous location, fingers pressing down on the skin above the edge of your shirt. Neutral location. She doesn’t want to have us over until… “Six? Is it gonna be bu- alright. See you then, Ginny.” He hung up, glancing at the screen of his phone before he set it on the cushions next to you. “We got a couple hours, what do you want to do?” You pressed your lips together, thinking. 

 “We can just stay here, Ryan.” He frowned, but you continued. “It’s too late to go look at anything, and if we go downtown and then have to leave… Henry’s little, so we can always go out after…” You went to sit up, but Ryan stopped you, moving his hand a little lower, the tips of his fingers sliding under your collar and curling over your shoulder. 

 “You wanna go out?” You nodded, staring up at him. 

 “Yeah, we can leave the car here, take an Uber or something, have a few drinks.” You swallowed. “This doesn’t have to be a…”

 “Alright.” He grinned. “Sounds good to me.” 

 --- 

 You drove from the house to the restaurant, which was on the same street that you were staying on and parked the car, backing into a spot that gave you a good view of the front doors. Ryan had wanted to be there a few minutes early, and you knew that it was to calm his nerves, to be sure that you got there before Ginny and Henry. “Food sounds good here, Ryan.” You looked over at him, watching as his eyes focused on the doors. “Lots of different burgers and-” 

 “They’re here.” You followed his gaze, watching as an old pickup truck pulled past you, and then Ryan was reaching for you, pulling you close to him and kissing you hard. “It’s just Ginny, why am I so -”

 “Because you love her, Ryan.” You said the words and watched as he took them in, nose wrinkling and teeth digging into his lower lip. “You love her and you haven’t seen her in years, and -”

 “This is why I need you.” He sighed, kissing you again, but this time it was slow, a gentle press of his lips against yours. “You’re always right, an’ I -”

 “Not always.” You sighed, looking past Ryan and watching as a dark haired woman led a small boy to the doors, his hand held tightly in hers. “Now let’s go see your friends, Ry.” He nodded, pulling away from you after giving your knee one more firm squeeze and then he got out of the car. Alright. Let’s go. You got out, too, locking it and dropping your keys into your purse as you moved to the front of the restaurant, Ryan’s hand waiting for yours to slip into it. The woman waited near the front doors, a small frown on her lips, but as soon as her eyes landed on Ryan, she smiled. The expression took years off of her face, and as you got closer, Ryan pulled his hand from yours, steps quickening as he reached the woman. He hugged her tightly, Virginia never letting go of Henry’s hand, though the boy was more interested in the cars passing by on the street than he was with what his mother was doing. 

 “Ryan!” You heard her voice in person for the first time, the excited tone of it muffled by his shoulder, and you took a step back as he wrapped both arms around her more tightly, a laugh escaping his lips. “You look great, like you haven’t -”

 “Ginny, you look…” He stepped back, shaking his head and smiling down at the small woman. “It’s good to see you, really good, and Henry, he…” You looked down when Ryan did, seeing that the boy was now looking up at you and Ryan, scowling. “He still looks just like his-”

 “Just like his daddy, yeah.” Ginny squeezed Ryan’s arm again before pulling gently on Henry’s hand, moving him closer to her. “That’s what everyone says.” Henry stood next to Virginia, and everyone went silent for a few seconds until Ginny addressed you, interest in her tone. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” You widened your eyes in surprise and she held her hand out to you. “I’m glad this one’s got someone to keep him in line.” You laughed and Ryan scoffed, Ginny’s hand falling from yours and back to her side. “We should go in, though, Henry’s hungry, and he’s gotta go to bed in a couple hours.” Nodding, you followed the woman and her son into the restaurant, Ryan’s hand resting against your back the entire time you waited in line to order. As you waited, Virginia reached down to pick Henry up, pointing out things on the menu to him. 

 “Do you want to go get a table, Ry?” You looked up at him, but Ryan shook his head. 

 “No, but you can.” He raised an eyebrow. “Tell me what you want and I’ll order.” You looked back at the menu and told him what you wanted, reaching for your purse but Ryan shook his head. “No, I got this.” Understanding immediately, you nodded, stepping away from Ryan and making your way to a booth, figuring it would be easier and more comfortable for Henry. Reminds me of a Shake Shack. You looked around the restaurant, eyes taking in the decor and the crowd. No, not quite, but… You’d been a lot of places in your travels, seen a lot of small towns that were trying to grow, trying to modernize, and Ogden was no different. Give it a chance. Smiling brightly as Ryan and Ginny made their way to the table, a drink holder in his hands, you scooted over, increasing the space next to you. 

 “Couple minutes, and the food should be out.” Ginny grinned at you, waving her hand. “This place is quick, and it’s good, and it’s…” Ginny smiled down at her son. “Cheap.” There was a pause and you leaned in, shrugging your shoulders. 

 “A good burger’s a good burger.” You smiled at her. “And if it’s cheap? That’s even better.” You felt Ryan’s hand on your knee, not squeezing but just resting there. “I -”

 “She does what we did, Gin.” Ryan’s tone was light, but you could still hear the apprehension in it. “Likes to get to know the places an’ the people and -”

 “Let her talk, Ryan.” Ginny sat up, eyes moving between the two of you. “I gotta decide.” Decide what? He asked your question out loud, and Ginny rolled her eyes. “Decide if I like her or not.” You watched her press her lips together, taking a breath. “I’m kidding, Ryan.” She shook her head. “I already like her, she’s keepin’ you safe.” You felt your heart thud at that - the first mention of the loss that they’d both experienced, and you tried not to flinch, but at the tightening of Ryan’s fingers through your jeans, you knew that you’d failed. I’m sorry, Ry, I couldn’t help it. Virginia said your name again, opening her mouth to say more when a young girl approached your table, two full trays of food in her hands. 

 Once things had been passed out - burgers for all three adults and a turkey sandwich for Henry, along with buckets of fries and onion rings to share between you - you started talking again, conversation flowing easily between you and Ginny, Ryan adding things in every now and then. You watched as he ate, his attention shifting between Ginny and Henry, focusing on the boy more and more as time passed, but Ryan never missed a beat. You liked Ginny, could tell that she was a devoted mother, trying to get Henry to say a few things too, including him in the conversation, and you knew instinctively that when she’d found out she was pregnant, her entire life had shifted. She was done right away, being a mom was… You glanced over at Ryan, watching as he laughed, telling Ginny about something that had happened in St. Louis, and wondered what he would have done if he’d ever gotten someone pregnant, if he’d …Stop. Shaking your head, you realized that Ryan was saying your name, his arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I was just…”

 “Thinkin’ about somethin’?” You nodded, meeting Ryan’s eyes. “It’s been a long day, and you did a lot of drivin’.” 

 “Yeah, but…” You shook your head. “That’s not -”

 “It’s fine.” Ginny leaned over the table, reaching out with one hand to squeeze yours while looking at Henry, who was coloring on one of the place mats with a green crayon. “We’ve gotta get going anyway, it’s almost time for bed, and he needs a bath.” She rolled her eyes. “I have to drop him off at my mom’s before I go to work, and -”

 “They still in the same house, Ginny?” Ryan spoke up and she nodded. “What about -” She nodded, cutting him off. 

 “Everyone else is still exactly where they were the last time you were here, Ryan.” You took a deep breath. Does she mean? “Not much has changed, except we’ve all gotten a little older.” Ginny laughed. “I work all day tomorrow, and then have an early shift the day after, so I don't know if we can…” She looked between the two of you. “I’m off the day after that, though, we can do somethin’ then, if you want.” Ryan nodded. “I just…” Ginny leaned in, voice going low. “I wanted him to really meet you, Ryan, before … before I invite you over and let you spend time with him, I just …” 

 “I get it.” He nodded. “We’re here until next Thursday, so we have plenty of time, and…” Ryan looked over at Henry again before lowering his head. “He looks so much like ‘im, Ginny.” You squeezed Ryan’s hand, feeling the spread of his fingers beneath yours, giving you a chance to hold them more tightly. “It’ll be nice to sit down and just…” 

 “Yeah, it will.” You knew that the conversation would be hard, but could also tell that Ryan was feeling more comfortable with the whole thing. See? Seeing them was what you needed, Ryan, it was … all you needed. “Thank you for dinner, Ryan. You didn’t have to -”

 “I did, though.” Ryan grinned, sitting back up and leaning against the back of the booth. “You guys took carea me all those years, least I can do is buy you a burger.” You felt the mood shift again, Ginny laughing, and a few minutes later as the four of you exited the restaurant, you paused in the parking lot, Henry’s head sleepily leaning against his mother’s shoulder. “Give me a call, Ginny. Let me know when you want to see me again, and I’ll stop by.” She nodded, and Ryan quickly walked over to the truck, pulling the back door open and stepping away to let Ginny put Henry into his car seat, buckling him in before she closed the door. 

 “It was nice to meet you, Ginny.” You called out the goodbye, still standing by the driver’s side door of your car. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon.” She raised a hand to you, and  then turned back to Ryan, stepping closer. Give them a minute. You unlocked your car, sliding into the seat and started it, wanting it to be warm when Ryan got in. That was… You shook your head, flipping through the radio and settling on an old rock station, leaning back in your seat and closing your eyes. She’s nice. You hadn’t even realized that you’d fallen asleep until you felt Ryan’s fingers moving over your cheek a while later. “Oh, shit, Ry, I didn’t -”

 “You want me to drive?” He leaned in, rubbing his nose against your cheek, and you yawned, shaking your head back and forth. “You were sleepin’, I -”

 “It’s just a couple blocks, Ryan, I can…” You sat straight up, blinking. “How long were you out there?” He laughed, leaning back against his seat. 

 “Only about ten minutes. You must be exhausted.” I guess I am. Rubbing your eyes, you turned your head to look at him, laughing quietly. 

 “It’s not even 9, Ryan, I…” I’m getting old. “Let’s go back, we can figure out where…”

 “We’re not goin’ out tonight.” He spoke quietly and your eyes moved over to him as you pulled out of the parking spot, turning out of the lot and back onto Monroe. Why? “We’ve got all week, and there’s nothin’ wrong with going back to the house and getting to bed early.” 

 “Whatever you say, Brenner.” It only took a few minutes and then your car was parked safely in the garage of your rental - and you were wrapped in Ryan’s arms in the master bedroom. “We’ll wake up early tomorrow, Ryan, and…” But you were already nodding off again, Ryan’s bearded chin pressed against your forehead. You woke up a few hours later, and though the bed next to you was empty, you could hear the sounds of Ryan playing guitar from downstairs. Should I go down? Rolling onto your back, you stared up at the ceiling, straining your ears to hear what he was playing. I can’t tell, I… You rubbed your eyes and sat up, making your decision. 

 The stairs didn’t squeak, but you still paused at the bottom of them, listening. He was playing something original - or, if it wasn’t, you didn’t recognize the song - picking through the notes and humming under his breath. He’s inspired here, we haven’t even been… “You gonna come over here, or just stand there and snoop?” Shit. You moved across the floor and down the short hallway, curling up in the center of the couch. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” 

 “No, I just … rolled over and you weren’t there, and I heard you, so…”

 “Felt like I had to play.” He glanced over at you, fingers still picking out notes. “Seein’ Ginny, talking about Cowboy, even a little, it…” I get it. “Bein’ back here, it’s…” I don’t know if I want to hear this. 

 “Hey.” You pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, covering yourself. “Keep playing, Ryan.” The look on his face grateful, Ryan smiled and turned his attention back to the instrument in his hands - your father’s guitar. He’s in Utah and he’s not playing his… Eyes on Ryan, you watched him play for a while, feeling yourself growing tired again as his words and the strumming - now much quieter - lulled you back to sleep. 

---

 Ryan’s POV

 He woke before you the following morning, stretching in the large bed and turning his head to face you as the pale sunlight filtered in. We’re in Utah. He hadn’t been back for nearly three years, but knowing that the mountains were just outside the windows, that the sleepy little town of Ogden was waiting for him to explore it, Ryan felt excitement. Not because she’s here, but because you are, he thought as he stared at you, your hair spread out over the pillow. Gonna show you the best parts of this place. He finally rolled away from you, reaching for his phone, and was surprised to see that it was barely eight, meaning he’d only gotten five and a half hours of sleep. Get up, go shower. He took a breath and rolled again toward the edge of the bed, but before he could swing his legs over the side, he felt your hand pressed against his spine. “Where you goin’, Ry?” 

 You mumbled the words and he froze, pausing long enough for you to remove your hand before he turned to face you again. “Gonna get up, it’s -” Your eyes were still closed, but he watched as you cracked one open, face still pressed against the pillow. “Why?”

 “What time is it?” You cleared your throat as he told you, groaning. “We’re on vacation. Stay in bed.” Yawning, you hummed as you let your breath out. “I’m not getting up yet.” Of course you aren’t. He watched you for a few seconds before making his decision, moving across the mattress and pulling you into his arms and against his chest. How can I say no? Ryan felt your lips press against his skin as you rested your hand against his ribs, and he relaxed back into the sheets, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. She’s right, it’s a vacation. Your breath evened out as you drifted back off, and Ryan wasn’t far behind you, his arms tightening around your body. 

 --- 

 Both of you finally woke up around ten and after showering - separately - and eating a late breakfast, you decided that you’d spend the day exploring the city. He’d been running through a list of places that he enjoyed, wanting to be sure that you saw them, but when Ryan tried to list things out for you, you tossed your head back, laughing. What? “Ryan, what happened to spontaneity?” You were sitting on the bench at the dining room table, one foot raised to the surface of the wood, both arms wrapped around your bent knee. “I know you have a lot you want me to see, but…” Cocking your head to the side, you smiled at him. “Won’t it be better if we just kind of… get there?” At his silence, you widened your eyes, sitting up straight. “I mean, we can…” 

 “No, you’re right.” Ryan moved across the room, sitting down on the bench with you. “I just want to be sure you see…” What do I want her to see? “Want you to understand why being here was important to me, even if… I couldn’t stay here.” He watched as you frowned at him, thinking through all of the possible places for you to go. “Why don’t we start with the Station?” Ryan reached up, running his fingers through his hair. “There’s a couple museums in there, some galleries… and then when we’re done, we can just walk down 25th… that’s the main street here.” You watched Ryan with curiosity, and he continued. “Restaurants and more stores… you can see the mountains… it’s…” 

 “Sounds good, Ryan.” You stood, turning to look down at him. “We should go, that way we’ll be downtown when the sun sets.” He stood too, reaching out and closing his fingers around your wrist as you began to walk toward the door. “W-”

 “C’mere.” Ryan tugged on you, waiting until you were facing him to speak again. “I’m glad you’re here with me.” You licked your lips, staying quiet. “You gotta understand that I…”

 “I get it.” Your voice was quiet, but Ryan heard a hint of sadness in it. “This isn’t easy for you. This is the last place you thought about… staying.” Is that it? “But I want to see it, see how you see it, because…” You frowned, but before Ryan could speak, you continued. “It’s personal to you, the same way it was when I showed you Philadelphia, and the same way it would be if we ever go back to -”

 “No.” He shook his head, feeling his body tense. “It’s completely different from Vegas.” His free hand found its way to your hip, his head still moving from side to side. “That was the beginning of something, this place, Ogden… it’s nothing like that. Not even close.” He paused, closing his eyes and for a moment picturing Jackie’s face, the way she’d looked at him as she watched him play with Georgie the first time. No. “I learned somethin’ here, but it wasn’t…” Ryan leaned in, pressing his lips to yours and feeling your immediate response. “Wasn’t as important.” You laughed quietly but nodded, whispering his name before he kissed you again, this time letting his lips linger, fingers tightening around your wrist. “Let’s go see some trains, yeah?” 

 --- 

 A few hours later, you and Ryan were in the second gallery, holding his hand as your arms hung between your bodies. You’d made your way through the indoor portions of the museum, excitedly reading the information and listening as Ryan showed you around, and he was happy to see that you seemed to be enjoying yourself. Why wouldn’t she? This is what she does. Being back in the building brought back a lot of memories; things he hadn’t thought about for years. He’d remembered watching Lia and Jackie sing together, the way that he’d seen for the first time what the woman was capable of when she stopped thinking and let herself act on instinct, the way seeing that had led to the first time he’d seen her at her realest - terrified at the thought of losing her daughter on the sidewalk in front of the building, Ryan doing what he could to reassure her that Lia wasn’t going anywhere. I can’t be thinking of this, it isn’t fair it… You were right there next to him, fingers linked together as you browsed, wandering through the galleries and the other portions of the interior of the large space, and he was having a difficult time keeping himself in the present. But I can’t let it… He thought back to the conversations he and Jackie had after that night, the way things had shifted, becoming somehow more and less comfortable between them in the same moments, the way that his mind had screamed “go” as soon as he’d found out about Cowboy, even though everything he knew should have convinced him otherwise. As the two of you made it through the second gallery, you murmuring about the art and leaning in to inspect the pieces more closely, Ryan closed his eyes, swallowing as he remembered the feeling in his chest as he’d hurried back to Utah, back to her, back to... Stop. None of that matters, not anymore. “Ryan?” 

 He opened both eyes and turned to look down at you, noticing that you were watching him intently. “Yeah?” He tightened his hold on your hand, not knowing what else to say, and in a split second, he saw the look in your eyes change. Shit. “You -”

 “You’re thinking about…” You pulled your hand back and Ryan let you do it, knowing better than to hold on more tightly. “I…” He watched you swallow, struggling for words. “How long… all day?” He hesitated for only a second and then nodded, feeling shame course through his body. Why am I doing this to myself? To her?  “Ryan, I…” You took a step back, and he saw you curl your fingers into your palm, teeth digging into your lower lip. “I shouldn’t have come here with you, not to Utah, not to -” He stepped closer again, eyes going wide and his hand shot out, fingers closing around your knuckles. 

 “No, don’t say that.” He heard something in his voice that he was unfamiliar with, but Ryan felt his heart pounding in his chest. “Look.” You froze as he touched you, but didn’t pull away. “I never said that bein’ here wasn’t going to be strange for me. I haven’t been in Ogden in years, and the last time I was here, it was…” Ryan wet his lips. “I had a lot goin’ through my head, and I’m thinkin’ that I didn’t… I didn’t deal with all that as well as I thought I did.” He let out a deep sigh, stepping closer to you and reached up with his free hand, his fingers tracing over your temple and down your cheek. “I’m not thinkin’ about it, about her because that’s what I want, I’m… thinkin’ about everything because I can’t help it.” Please understand. “I’m here with you because I wanna be. There’s no one else I want to be walking through here with, or seein’ the ponies on 25th with later or headin’ back to the house with tonight.” You were watching him with a careful expression in your eyes, but he continued anyway, hand dropping to your shoulder. “I want you here with me. In Utah, in here, everywhere.”

 “Did you come here with her?” He heard the sadness in your voice, though you tried to disguise it. “Walk through -”

 “No.” He shook his head. “Well, we came here together a couplea times, but it was never to see the exhibits, it was for events.” You watched him, waiting. “I’m not doin’ the same things with you that I did with her. I would never. You deserve more than that, but this is a small town, and so a lot of places are…” Ruined? Full of memories? “Reminders of the time I spent here.” Ryan watched you close your eyes before looking down, hair falling over your face as you moved. “Look, I’d never lie to you about this. You asked, and I’m tellin’ you the truth, because -”

 “I know, Ry.” You raised your head and he saw that your eyes were shining, lips firmly set. “But it doesn’t -” He surprised both of you by pulling you closer, wrapping both arms around you and tilting his head down to kiss the top of your head. I hope she can feel how fast my heart is beating, how this is botherin’ me. It took a second, but you wound an arm around him, fingers hard against the skin of his back. 

 “I’m in love with you, you know that.” His words quiet, Ryan rocked slowly from side to side before straightening up, saying your name. “I can’t help -”

 “Love you too, Ryan.” You reached up with one hand, swiping beneath your eyes. “It’s just hard because I know that you… cared, and it’s like I shouldn’t be here because it’s-” Ryan cut you off with a firm shake of his head. “What?”

 “She lives here, she doesn’t own this place. You have as much a right to be here as she does, and… and I’m sorry that I ruined the day, because I was lookin’ forward to -”

 “Didn’t ruin anything, Ryan.” You sniffed, drawing your lower lip into your mouth. “I’m just being stupid, I -” Stupid? No way. “I know that you… fuck.” He watched as a tear slipped from one eye, dripping slowly down your cheek. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, but didn’t, instead drawing you closer again and just holding you. Nothing I say is going to help. “Hey.” You pulled away from him, gesturing toward the exit. “I think I’m done in here, can we…” He was moving before you’d finished, leading you toward the door, and within 30 seconds, the two of you were outside, the chilly air feeling slightly warmer in the bright sunlight.

 “Hey, stop.” Ryan planted his feet, crossing his arms over his chest and saying your name again. “You’re gonna tell me not to apologize, so I won’t.” He watched as you raised an eyebrow. “But I want you to know that I wasn’t… it wasn’t this whole time, I… I was…” He looked past you, wrinkling his nose. “I got caught up in…” It’s been years and Jackie’s still ruinin’ everything. “It won’t happen again. Not in Ogden, not -”

 “You can’t promise me that.” You shrugged, fingers moving through your hair. “I know you’ll try, but we can’t help what we think about or when.” You glanced upward and then back at him. “I don’t like being jealous, Ryan. Not of a memory, not of someone right in front of me, not even… it’s not fun.” No, it’s not. “But I can’t help it, because I don’t like thinking of you with-”

 “Then don’t.” He reached out, taking your hand, and was grateful that you let him. “I sure as hell don’t wanna think about you with some other guy, so I get it.” You laughed at that, even as the two of you moved toward where the train cars were parked, a few people passing by as you walked. “Never been over here before, it’s always been closed, but I’ve wanted to…” He paused. “Go inside the engine, see-”

 “See what you were riding around on all those years?” You elbowed him, a slightly more neutral tone in your voice. “You saw the open sky from the boxcars, Ry, but never the…” She gets it. “Let’s go, what are you waiting for?” He stopped on the sidewalk, angling his body toward yours. “Ryan?”

 “Are we alright?” He didn’t even want to ask, but knew that he had to. “I need to know before we keep…”

 “Yes.” You said the word with conviction, stepping close and pressing your hand against his chest. “I just got upset for a second, but I’ll be fine. I’m not going to let it… ruin this, ruin our..” Your fingers bent slightly, digging into his skin. “We’ve still got a few hours before the streetlights come on, Brenner. Let’s get you back on a train.” In disbelief, Ryan watched you, breath caught in his throat. Is she really alright? Is this… But you caught him off guard again by rising onto your toes to kiss him, lips warm as they met his. Ryan lifted a hand to the back of your head, tilting his to the side, but didn’t press his luck and pulled back after a few seconds. “W-”

 “Gotta keep my hands offa you in public.” He grinned, knowing that things still weren’t perfect, but wanting to keep the mood light. “But when we get back to the house tonight?” It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “No promises, if you’ll…” You winked, the excitement in your eyes something he was thrilled to see. “Good.” Ryan rolled his neck without looking away from you. “C’mon, let’s get on that train.” 

 --- 

 Your POV

 After the tense few minutes in the museum and the parking lot, things relaxed between you and Ryan, but you were still less excited than you had been when you woke up, and you were apprehensive about what was to come. I knew something was wrong. I knew he… You’d felt the distance growing as you made your way through the museums, which had been filled with things that you’d enjoyed looking at and learning about, but when it had become apparent that he was barely listening to you, you’d called Ryan out - not wanting to be right. But I was. Jackie’s presence loomed over you, and even though you believed him when he said he wanted to be there, that he was in love with you, that being back in Ogden was just hitting him harder than he thought it would, you knew that you and Ryan would have to work hard to recover the day… if it was at all possible. It is. It has to be. 

 Ryan talked about the trains as you made your way past the row of them, pointing out the differences, and you realized that not only had he spent a great deal of time on them, but that he’d also learned about the vehicles, wanting to better understand his primary mode of transportation. “You wanna come in with me?” The two of you stopped next to the engine that you’d be able to enter, but rather than giving him an answer, you stepped back, reaching for your phone. “What are you -”

 “It’s a good shot, Ryan. You and the…” You gestured. “The colors, and the mountains…” He looked surprised but didn’t argue with you, and even though you didn’t have your main camera, you took a few shots with your phone, giving him directions but overall just letting him stand how he wanted to, knowing that it was better that way. “Got it, Ry.” You put your phone back into your pocket, stepping over to where Ryan still stood, his hands in his pockets and a thoughtful look on his face. “What?”

 “You still wanted to…” He looked down, shrugging. “Nothin’. Don’t worry about it.” Ryan leaned over, putting his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer for a few seconds. “Let’s go in and see it, and then we can head up 25th and stop for somethin’ to eat.” Slightly confused at his refusal to answer your question, the two of you stepped up into the engine, making your way through the cabin. It didn’t take long, but you saw Ryan’s eyes light up as he stepped down the narrow aisle toward the cab, taking a seat in the engineer’s chair, long fingers wrapping around the gear knob as you stood behind him, watching. His fingers moved over everything, trailing over the buttons and knobs, and you pulled your phone out again, snapping pictures. This is him. This is … 

 By the time you made it down the hall and through the sleeping quarters, stepping onto the small ledge that would have been between the engine and the first car, Ryan was fully back with you, holding your hand tightly and pulling you into the conversation, doing his best to answer questions for you. You didn’t know exactly what he was talking about, but the tone of his voice made you happy, and you could tell that he was happy, too. “How close did you… stay to the engines, Ryan?” Your eyes moved over his form, the mountains behind him, the way he was leaning against the metal exterior of the train. “Not too close, right? Or they wou-”

 “It depended on what kinda train it was. The boxcars were no big deal, I could pull myself into one pretty much anywhere, because they couldn’t see me in ‘em, but the open cars, the gondolas?” He shook his head. “Had to pick those a little more careful, because if I jumped into one an’ it wasn’t completely empty? It’s easier to be seen, so I picked those when I was only goin’ a short trip, or when it was warm enough that I could sleep outside an’ watch the sky.” He had a faraway look in his eyes for a minute, but then he looked back at you and they focused. “I miss it, sometimes, but not because I miss the travelin’, I just miss… it was open, you know?” You did, and so you nodded, thinking about the nights you’d slept on beach chairs, the fields you’d sat in long after dark just to hear the sounds of nature around you. 

 “I get it, Ryan.” Swallowing, you let your eyes scan the horizon again, focusing in on the tops of the mountains in the distance, still over his right shoulder. “Freedom, things being unpredictable, the -”

 He stopped your words by kissing you again, surging forward and threading his fingers through your hair, palm pressed against your cheek. It surprised you but you didn’t stop him, instead raising your hands to close them around the material of his jacket, pulling him close to you. He didn’t hold himself back, his other arm going around your waist as he coaxed your lips apart with his tongue, and you sighed quietly. How can I doubt anything with him? Ryan finally pulled back, his eyes warm in the afternoon sunlight, and didn’t speak, instead watching you and waiting. What? You felt your lips quirking up into a smile at his stare, and after long seconds, Ryan leaned in again, lowering his lips to your ear. “I’m right here with you, I promise.” I know you are, Ryan, I just… He kissed the side of your face, running his nose along your cheek and then backed off, taking a breath. “You ready to see 25th?” 

 “Yeah.” You lowered your hands, taking one of his again and squeezed. “Think I am.”

--- 

 By the time it was getting dark, you’d made your way up 25th street and to the amphitheater, walking through the open space - most of it still snow-covered aside from the paths, Ryan’s arm around your shoulders. After stopping for pizza at a tiny shop on the corner of Lincoln, you weren’t hungry, and were finally starting to relax again, welcoming Ryan’s company and the stories he told you about the restaurants on the street, the shops that lined it. It was hard for you to believe that he’d only spent a few months in the city, but you realized that he’d been trying to learn about the place he’d considered settling, and it startled you. He really tried. He really thought… But the closer you listened, walking with him, you heard in his voice that he was talking about each location with a detached tone of voice. He knew the places but had no connection to them, could tell you what they were like, but didn’t have many important memories. He didn’t talk about Ogden the way that he spoke about Chicago or Seattle or even Charleston - and you knew without a doubt that Ryan hadn’t ever felt a real connection to the city, no matter what he’d tried to do. But the pizza was good. 

 “So there’s a brewery,” Ryan said, leaning over to talk into your ear again, the sounds of the increasing number of cars making it a little more difficult to hear. “Called Rooster’s, it’s on the other side of the street.” He cleared his throat. “I worked there a couple weeks when I was livin’ here, and they’ve got good food, beer’s better than average.” 

 “We should go.” You nodded, eyes moving to your left and finding the illuminated sign. “Looks like my kind of place.” He laughed from next to you, and you glanced up in time to see him nod his head. “We’ll Uber, that way we can both drink, and not worry about getting back to the house.” 

 “Definitely.” He raised his arm to point out another of the colorful horses, this one illuminated by a small light mounted to the base, though you didn’t stop to look closely. They were scattered on the sidewalks, and Ryan told you that they were set up each year to go along with the largest Rodeo event in the area, and you’d taken pictures with some of them, Ryan even posting one on his Instagram page of him with a golden horse, reared up on its hind legs. The project was interesting to you, and you knew that you’d be bringing your camera with you the next time you came downtown, documenting things with the powerful lens. I can still enjoy Ogden, even… it’s great for pictures. 

 Ryan took your hand as you walked back down the well-lit street toward Union Station and the car, still talking and pointing out the places where he’d played, the spots where he’d had the best luck. Stopped and waiting for a light to change so that you could cross back over Lincoln, Ryan was gesturing down the street to a tattoo shop that he’d said he contemplated getting a tattoo done at when he trailed off in the middle of a sentence. “Ryan?” You frowned as you looked up at him, seeing his eyes focused ahead of you. “What’s…” 

 “Nothing, I just…” He shook his head, looking down. “Thought I saw…” He chewed on his lip, taking a deep breath. “Just seein’ things, it’s no big deal.” The light changed and you started walking again, Ryan’s steps slowing slightly as you passed an Italian restaurant called Rovali’s, the bright lights from inside spilling out onto the sidewalk. You slowed too, eyes scanning the windows, and though you felt him stiffen next to you, you didn’t need him to explain why. Oh, shit. Jackie was seated at the window table, a young blonde girl next to her and a handsome - though nondescript man across from her, wide smile on his face. She’s right there. She… Seeing the woman for the first time, even though glass, was a shock to you, because though you knew what she looked like, you were unprepared for the wide smile on her face as she spoke to her husband and then the server, the way you heard Ryan inhale from next to you as he watched the three of them. 

 He squeezed your hand more tightly but you were frozen, heart pounding in your chest as you watched the woman through the glass, and then, just as you were steeling yourself to start walking again, her gaze moved to the window, landing on your face for a moment - and then, as if she recognized you, immediately sliding to your right, where Ryan was standing. Move. Walk. Don’t stand here. You took a step forward, though you were unable to look away as she stared at Ryan through the window, her eyebrows shooting up, lips freezing in a smile, but it wasn’t until he’d started moving too that you felt yourself breathe again. Just get back to the car, get back to the house, get… Ryan didn’t speak as you moved, the people you passed on the sidewalk allowing you space, and even though you didn’t let go of Ryan’s hand, you relaxed your grip on it, knowing that he felt the change. She’s right there, what are the odds? What if she comes out, what if… It was less than a block back to the parking lot, and when you reached the crosswalk at Wall Avenue, you glanced from side to side before walking through the red light and across the street, not pausing the way that you should have. 

 “Hey.” He spoke loudly, following as closely behind you as he could, hurrying you across the street and past the fountain, which was illuminated in the darkness. Ryan said your name as you reached the curb and you finally stopped, turning to face him and pulling your hand away from his. “Don’t do this.” He shook his head back and forth and you saw his eyes darken as he stepped toward you. “I didn’t -”

 “I know you didn’t, Ryan.” You reached up, rubbing at your face. “But that’s my luck. That we’d… that she’d…” You were suddenly tired, the good feeling that had slowly returned throughout the previous few hours gone, and wanted nothing more than to be back at the house. Maybe I’ll have a beer and sit in the hot tub, maybe I’ll… “I want to go home, Ryan.” You shrugged, reaching into your purse for the keys to your car. “I’m just… done with today.” You swallowed, looking over his shoulder and half expecting to see the woman making her way down the sidewalk to where you stood. “I need -”

 “Can I drive?” He was watching you, speaking cautiously. “I know it’s your car and all, but I don’t … you’re upset, and…” You handed the keys over to him without speaking, fingertips brushing his palm, but neither of you said anything else as you headed back to your parking spot, Ryan clicking the car unlocked as you reached it. What did he see in her? You stared out the window as he drove, the interior of the vehicle silent except for the low sound of the radio. Did this… are we… Ryan kept both hands on the wheel, his eyes focused on the road, and you were reminded of the apprehension you’d felt on the way home from finding him in Philadelphia, like there was more unsaid between the two of you than you could ever hope to say out loud. But this time, it’s about…You took a long breath, staring out the window at the houses you were passing, but couldn’t bring yourself to look at Ryan. He… they... She was… “You want me to park in the garage, or…?” 

 “Driveway’s fine.” You were unbuckling the seat belt before he’d removed the keys from the ignition, and you heard the wavering of your voice. Shit. “Thanks for driving, Ryan.” You sat in total silence for a few seconds and when you finally brought your gaze up to his face, you saw that Ryan was watching you with a worried look in his eyes. “I need a ... “ You stopped, thinking. What do I need? “I need some time, Ryan, that was … I wasn’t... “ You pushed your door open, getting out and then leaning back into the car, sighing. “Just give me a …”

 “Whatever you need, I don’t want to…” He shook his head, leaning toward you in the darkness. “Just don’t leave, yeah?” I wouldn’t. I… I couldn’t. Promising him that you wouldn’t go further than the back yard, you used the code to unlock the gate, removing the cover of the hot tub and turning it - along with the overhead lights of the covered patio on before heading into the house through the garage. Ryan was sitting on the couch as you walked by, holding your guitar in his hands, but he didn’t speak as you went up the stairs and into the bedroom. By the time you were changed and wrapped in one of the large towels, he was playing and singing - loudly - voice echoing in the open room. He sounded sad, singing strained as he made his way through one of his original songs, but you didn’t stop, walking out the sliding glass door and into the backyard, bare feet moving quickly over the cold cement. Tossing the towel onto one of the chairs, you climbed into the steaming, bubbling water, sinking in to your neck and closing your eyes, trying to clear your mind. None of it matters. Don’t let it… 

 But even over the rumbling of the bubbles coming out of the vent next to you, and despite the closed door, you could hear the loud twang of Ryan’s guitar strings as the tears started rolling down your cheeks. 

--- 

General:

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[something-tofightfor]

Just a Place - Part 8

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader

Word Count: 8180

Rating: M (language, implication of sex)

Summary: You and Ryan continue your life together - moving from city to city, but with purpose. You have your 2nd exhibit opening, meet more of his friends, and then, again, someone from his past reaches out. 

Author’s Note: Uh, it took me six months to get this out, and I feel terrible. (I know I wrote (s)He’s a Tiger and some drabbles for them, but I cannot and will not continue to neglect Ryan. Promise. While I didn’t write it with her in mind, this chapter is dedicated to @gollyderek​ ... because who doesn’t want a little Ryan Brenner on their birthday? Happy birthday, Laura! 

Your POV 

The trip to San Francisco had been a whirlwind; your second exhibition opening going much more smoothly than the first. To start, you had help with setting up the show, your time spent in the gallery passing more quickly because you were rarely alone like you had been in Philadelphia. The biggest difference, though, had been that Ryan was there to help you - and he’d built the freestanding walls by hand, the sound of his voice echoing off of the walls of the room as he sang to himself while he worked. It comforted you, and you’d caught yourself grinning more than once while you sat at the small table in one corner of the room, signing the matted images in golden ink and numbering them just in case they happened to sell.  Andrea had been present often while you prepared the space, introducing you and Ryan to her wife Joanna, and Ryan had quickly charmed the woman, as per usual. 

 By the time your opening night came, you weren’t even nervous anymore, and you knew that it was because Ryan was there with you, his dark eyes watching your every move, never far from you and yet giving you all of the space you needed. His arrival to the city had been a surprise for you; you’d expected him to give you flight information so that you could pick him up, but instead he’d showed up on the morning of the 29th, at the hotel room you’d booked, two quick knocks on the door and nothing else. Needless to say, you’d been late getting to the gallery to begin your setup, but it didn’t matter because with Ryan’s help, you finished things in double time. 

 Though the trip was only a few days long, it was nice to be on the coast again, to be away from Middle America, to be in charge of something. You loved that Ryan was taking the lead on so many things - the houses with David, finding the place in Olathe, the independent remodel - but the show was yours, something for you to obsess over, to plan, to see through. The opening had been wonderful, the guests friendly and interested, you answering their questions without hesitation. Ryan had even made some connections; people had been all too excited to talk to him after seeing that he was again the only human subject in your images. You’d used the pictures of him from Las Vegas, repeating the enlarged one in the center of the exhibit - but this time, you’d asked him to sign the back of the ones he was in, too, his eyes going wide as you handed him the pen. “It’s about you, too, Ry.”

 Though there had been no sunroom for Ryan to lead you to after the drive back to your hotel, you’d spent the remainder of the night in much the same way you had after the first, dozing off at sunup and waking up just early enough to take showers before rushing back to the airport to make it back to Kansas. Since you’d been so focused on your show, Ryan had acknowledged his words from the night he’d called from Phoenix but hadn’t explained them, promising instead that you’d talk when you returned to the house. But when you got back there, the fixtures and tile had been delivered, meaning that the two of you were busy again for a few days, making as much progress as you could on the house before you’d needed to call an electrician to come out and rewire the electrical lines properly. 

 There wasn’t much you could do while you waited, and so finally, one morning about a week after you and Ryan had returned from San Francisco, you approached him with a coffee mug in your hands as he laid on his back on the couch, reading through a notebook full of his lyrics. “Ry?” He immediately looked up at you, lips curving into a smile. “You said we needed to talk, right?” He sat up, planting his feet on the floor and reached up for the mug, taking it from you as you lowered yourself onto his lap, his free arm curling around your waist. 

 “I did.” You sipped from the coffee and waited. “It’s nothin’ bad, I -”

 “I didn’t think it was… not after you…” You shook your head, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair, head shaking back and forth. “Not after you said you were gonna come to San Fran, anyway.” You’d never tell him how it had felt to hear him say the words “I’m not coming home” to you, separated by thousands of miles after two weeks of spotty contact. You’d never tell him, but you suspected that he knew how he’d made you feel with those words, even though you didn’t need him to explain himself. I thought he was leaving, I thought he was going to… “But I still wanna know, Ry.” He stared at you for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts and then reached for the mug you held, leaning forward to put it on the crate that you were using for a table. 

 “So…” He settled back, the hand on your hip slipping beneath the bottom hem of the shirt you wore, the rough fingers of his left hand moving against your skin. “So you were right.” You turned your head toward him, puzzled. “I was off before I left, but I was off while I was travelin’ too.” What? “I wanna… I wanna be with my friends, record with ‘em, not do the, the whole studio thing, yeah?” You nodded. “And I think that… when I was in Arizona, talkin’ with Georgie, I realized that it wasn’t that I was restless because I felt trapped here, like you thought.” I did think that. “Stayin’ in one place, for months at a time used to scare the hell out of me, but when I… when Cowboy died?” Ryan shook his head back and forth slowly, eyes downcast. “He left his wife, he left his kid. What I did - what we did was so dangerous, so damn stupid.” Ryan trailed off, thinking. “But it was life, and I got used to it, and then I met you, and you just accepted it.” I did. “I’m making a mess of this, I know I am, but what it comes down to is that I wasn’t off because I wasn’t happy - I was… it scared me that it was so easy for me to make such a big... “ He blew out a breath. “I wasn’t expecting for it to be so easy for me to stop, to settle into a routine, to be with someone all the time, and then when it was, I didn’t… I didn’t trust it.” 

 It made sense to you, the way that he was explaining it, and you were surprised that you hadn’t picked up on his reasoning. Telling him as much, you shifted on his lap. “I thought you were restless because of me, Ryan.” 

 “You?” You nodded. “Why would you have been…” 

 “Ryan, I offered to move in with you the first night we found each other again, I know I came on a little strong.” He looked surprised at that, but you didn’t let him speak. “And then after that, things just moved really quickly, and then we were buying a house, and moving again, and…” You shrugged. “It’s a lot, and there were days where I just figured you were going along with it because you didn’t know how to tell me…”

 “I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t ever do that with you.” He said your name, drawing out the end of it. “I mean it. It wasn’t because of you, it was because of me.” Ryan closed his eyes, tilting his head back. “I spent half my life livin’ day to day, and I got used to it - it was a routine for me, an’ then when I found a new routine? It was different. But I didn’t want to think about what it meant.” 

 “What does it mean, Ryan?” He looked back at you, the most honest expression that you’d ever seen him wear on his face. 

 “It means that my life is about more than music, more than travel, more than… more than me.” He paused. “I told you before  that I’ve never felt like someone wanted to build somethin’ from the ground up with me, they just wanted to fit me into their life, like a piece that was missin’, and I’ve never felt that with you.” Because I’ve never done that, I never… “But.” He grinned. “It took you telling me to go for me to figure out that you weren’t giving me a choice between you and the road like J... like she did.” You nodded, noting the catch in his voice. “You weren’t tryin’ to make me pick between you and that life, an’ I figured it out.” Ryan leaned in, nose brushing against yours. “All on my own.” He kissed you, his thumb trailing around the curve of your ear as he pulled away. “And as soon as I did, it was like I couldn’t get back to you soon enough, even though I knew I had to wait a few days.” 

 “Did you miss me, Ryan Brenner?” Your tone was breathy; you couldn’t help it when he was that close to you, the scent of him invading your senses, his voice low and smooth in your ear. He nodded, lips moving over your cheekbone and then down, lingering against your jaw. 

 “I did” He sighed. “I don’t like not talkin’ to you, even for only a few days, it reminds me of when I lost my phone.” You froze but recovered quickly, the arm that was around his neck tightening slightly, your fingers playing with the thick hair at the base of his skull. “I don’t like feelin’ like that.” I don’t either. “But that’s enough.” He cleared his throat. “The point is that I’m not leavin’ any time soon, and even though bein’ out and playing again was great, it’s not the same as it used to be. I was alone before, and that was fine, but I’m not alone now, and I don’t wanna be.” 

 “Good.” He kissed you again, this time softly, his hair falling over one eye and moving over your skin. “Good, Ry, because I don’t either.” 

--- 

 The electrician came and went, bringing the house up to code, and with that done, you and Ryan blazed through the remainder of the renovations, finishing a few days after the 4th of July. You’d watched the fireworks from the roof of the house, you and Ryan sitting together with his arms around you, his chin resting on your shoulder and you settled between his knees. It was humid with a slight breeze, but you didn’t care, knowing that you’d be peeling your sticky clothes off of each other a few minutes after the fireworks ended anyway. As the splashes of color boomed in the sky above you, you felt Ryan’s lips moving against the back of your neck and then over your bare shoulder, the gentle hum coming from the back of this throat vibrating against your skin. I never wanna lose this.  

 The house was listed for sale early the following week, Ryan handling everything, including working with the realtor to choose a starting price, and you’d watched his eyes widen when he received the paperwork. A little drywall and some new flooring goes a long way, Brenner. You knew that the summer months were a typically slow for buyers, but when, at the beginning of August, Ryan received three offers on the house, you weren’t surprised. With the extra money from the last house he’d worked on with David and the profits from the current house, you knew that the amount of money Ryan had to his name was more than he’d ever realistically imagined he’d have at once in his lifetime - and you were happy for him. 

 You moved out of Olathe and rented a place in Texas - not to renovate, but to live, and then headed south to Louisiana, visiting with one of Ryan’s old friends and her husband and kids. You knew what Fabienne had meant to him, and could immediately understand how he’d fallen under her spell. She was vibrant and friendly, welcoming the two of you into her home without pause, throwing her arms around Ryan and then around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek while telling you that you were going to be good friends and that she couldn’t wait to show you her city. 

 “Is it strange for you, Ryan?” You asked him as you laid in bed next to him later that night, wearing only one of his t shirts, Ryan dressed in a pair of athletic shorts. “To think that we’re in the house with someone that you -”

 “Nah.” He rolled toward you, using one large hand to push the hair out of your face. “Fabi and I… it’s been a long time. We were never gonna last, and we both knew it even though we pretended it wasn’t true for a while.” He smiled at you, and you both went silent, listening to the quiet hum of the air conditioner outside of the bedroom window. “We had fun together, but she and Alex are perfect for each other, she was ready to stay long before I was.” He craned his neck to kiss you, pressing your back against the mattress. “Is it weird for you? Bein’ here, in bed with me, wearin’ my clothes, knowin’ that they’re wonderin’...”

 “I don’t have anything to worry about with her, Ry, or with you.” You stared up at him, still able to pick out every one of his features, even in the darkness of the room. “Ten years is ten years…” Slowly, you dragged your nails down his chest, watching the slight flare of his nostrils and the way his tongue poked out from between his lips while he hovered over you. “And Ryan?” You used your free hand to pull his head down to yours again, sighing into his mouth. “She’s been with you, she knows exactly what we’re doing in here.” He laughed, easing himself back on top of you and agreed, and by the time you fell asleep a long while later, you weren’t wearing his shirt anymore.

 You stayed with Fabienne and Alexander for a week and a half, getting to know the couple and spending the rest of your time exploring the streets of New Orleans, Ryan taking his guitar and going back to places he’d played earlier in his life. He fit in with the city and surrounding area just as well as you knew he’d fit into a place like Memphis or Nashville, slipping into street performances and onstage at bars, fingers moving quickly over the frets and strings of his guitar, soulful voice loud in your ears. Watching him was like being in a trance, and a quick glance around whatever area you were in confirmed that others felt the same, too. 

 But you always made it back to their home to sleep, using the spare key that Alexander had slipped into your hand while you ate beignets at Cafe du Monde, taking a break from the heat and humidity and letting Ryan and Fabi play. You’d been surprised that he was fine with letting you stay, knowing that he was aware of the relationship that his wife had had with Ryan, but he’d explained his feelings to you over coffee the second night, his green eyes full of honesty. 

 “They weren’t together long, and they were both pretty young. I know it was serious and I know that they cared for each other, but it was before … before we’d met.” You watched him stare at you, deep in thought. “She told me that she felt terrible about ending things with him, but that she needed to do it before he… before they hurt each other more and lost each other for good.” Ryan had told you the same, his words hesitant while he explained that he’d loved the woman but didn’t think he’d been in love with her, despite what his hormones had allowed him to believe. “I fell in love with her the day I met her.” 

 “Really?” He nodded, smiling at you over the rim of his cup. “That’s gotta be a good story.” 

 “It is.” He leaned back in his chair, the thumb of his right hand rubbing against the wedding band he wore on his left, still smiling. “Came here on vacation with my brother. We wanted to do the typical tourist shit, you know? I was twenty five, and hadn’t ever had anything long term. She was singin’ on the sidewalk, right there for everyone to see, and I heard her before I saw her - and I knew.” You widened your eyes, remembering walking up to Ryan, hearing him play his guitar, seeing him sitting on his crate for the first time. “Asked her to get a drink that night, and told my brother not to expect me back in the room.” He shook his head, the look in his eyes far away. “We stayed out til sunrise, and even though I had to leave a couple days later, I was back here after two months.” 

 “You uprooted your life for her?”

 “Yes. And I haven’t regretted it once.” He shook his head. “We dated for a little over a year, I proposed and we got married six months later. Ryan was there, he came back for it.” Alexander laughed. “This was… three years after they broke up? He came back through a few times, stopped in, stayed overnight, but I never... He was always so nice, so good with Cecily when she was little… “ Alexander nodded his head. “Ryan wouldn’t ever try anything with someone else’s woman, and that was one of the first things he said to me when I met him.” 

 “I’m not surprised.” You chewed on the nail of your thumb for a few seconds. “First night we met, he was… nice, but didn’t try anything, was just friendly.” The man watched you. “And even… the next night, when we talked for the first time? Even after I invited him back to my room to get out of the rain? He asked before he kissed me for the first time, then made sure that there was no one…”

 “He’s a good guy, and there aren’t many people that live like him that are as…” Alexander paused, narrowing his eyes as he thought. “As concerned with what people think of ‘em.” You nodded, realizing that he was right. “I was happy to have him there for the wedding, and I’m just as happy to have the two of you here now. So’s she. She always… she’s always gonna a soft spot for him, and I can’t blame her for that. I trust her, and I trust him.” 

 After leaving Louisiana  - and the woman who’d said goodbye to both of you with kisses on the cheek, Ryan’s skin flushed pink as you’d turned and walked through the doors of the airport - you and Ryan moved further west, spending the end of summer and beginning of autumn in Texas. He played music, adding to his bank account, recorded a few songs, and you took freelance photography jobs, filling in gaps of time while you lived out of the house you’d rented. Both of you were living the lives that you’d been before you met with two big exceptions: the first being that you’d adopted some of each other’s mannerisms, and the second that you two were together as often as possible. Ryan didn’t travel by train or sleep on the couches of friends anymore, and you took the time to see the cities you stayed in, getting a feel for the people that lived in them instead of simply taking pictures of the spaces and moving on once you’d gotten ‘the shot’. 

 You knew that you’d been fortunate in life, had been able to travel with your parents and for work and see places that most people only dreamed about, but they’d just been trips to you, ways to pass the time. You’d made a few memories, sure, but the more you traveled with Ryan, the more you realized that your first great memories started in Vegas - with him. You knew that the number of places he’d seen and been and the things that Ryan had experienced paled in comparison to your own extensive and privileged history, but Ryan took each day as it came, no matter what, finding things to be excited about, and the more time you spent with him, the more you tried to do the same. 

 From Texas, you moved north, finding a clean, but outdated trailer to renovate in Durango, Colorado, going in half and half on the price. It had been on the market for months, so you got a great deal on it, and you spent your second Christmas together tucked into the cozy confines of the mobile home, snow falling outside the walls. You hadn’t spent a Christmas in the snow in years, and even though it was even more low key than the one you’d had in Charleston, you enjoyed the second holiday with Ryan more, the tiny tree in the corner decorated with a few strings of lights and only the important ornaments hanging from the branches. It was a few days before Christmas when you got a phone call from Andrea, updating you that all of the pieces from your show that had sold had been packaged and shipped out to the buyers, and that you could expect to receive your pay shortly after the beginning of the year, along with some of the remaining images. “There were people that actually bid on some of them,” the woman had said. “So your take home was a little… higher than we expected it to be, even with some pieces unsold and a few others donated, plus our commission.” You’d inquired as to the amount, but Andrea refused to tell you, which you thought was strange. “I promise you, the surprise will be worth it for you.” 

 New Year’s Eve passed too, you and Ryan working side by side to renovate the trailer and get it ready to put on the market as soon as the weather turned. He was teaching you a lot about remodeling, and even though the snow - and the nearby parks and mountains kept you busy with your camera, you helped Ryan a lot more than you had in Olathe. The check from San Francisco showed up on January 9th, tucked into a thick envelope with the sale records, the remaining pictures and a handwritten letter from Andrea. The letter told you to contact her when you were ready for another show, that she’d put you in touch with a few gallery options. But the amount listed on the check floored you, causing you to stand frozen in the middle of the kitchen, the paper clutched in your shaking hands. “What’s wrong?” Ryan walked into the room quickly, his arms going around you from behind. “You OK?”

 “Yeah, Ry, it’s… its from Andrea, I…” You tilted the check, showing him the amount and heard his low whistle, felt his hold on you tighten. “It’s way more than… it’s just… they’re just pictures, Ryan, it’s not…”

 “It’s not just pictures.” He kissed you on the side of the head, taking a deep breath. “It’s art, and you deserve every penny of that.” You knew he was right, but it was still unreal to you to think that in the span of a year, you’d had not one but two shows, your art selling better than you’d ever imagined it would. This is enough to live off of for a year, and we’re still gonna make money with this place, I can’t… “I think it stopped snowin’ outside.” Ryan said your name quietly, turning you to face him and pulling the check from your hand, setting it down on top of the envelope. “We should go celebrate.” He leaned down, kissing you and keeping his hands at your waist. “Lemme buy you dinner.” You nodded, agreeing and Ryan kissed you again, taking your lower lip between his teeth before pulling away to look into your eyes. “I’m proud of you.” You whispered his name, leaning even closer into him. “Get your boots on.” 

 You went out, even though the roads weren’t great, and had a nice dinner, Ryan swatting your hand away when the waitress brought the check out and then taking it back in his as he led you out the door and to the bar next door to the restaurant for a drink. It was one of the ones he played at, and he played out often, still managing to network, even though he wasn’t focused entirely on music during the winter months. Ryan was happy with the schedule he’d set for himself and you were happy to have Chris and Jameson stay with you for a few days the following week, the two men going along with Ryan to play at a bar downtown for one night with you tagging along to watch. Might not be his focus, but it’s still important to him, you thought as you watched the three of them onstage, the crowd totally engaged with their set.

 The next morning, they helped him carry in drywall sheets and wooden beams and planks, needing only a few trips into the house to get the supplies unloaded from the rented truck. The three of them gutted both bathrooms during the time they stayed, redoing the floors and walls in only a few days time, and you were impressed with how hard they worked to complete each room. You were proud of Ryan too,  who’d paid the men for the work they did, despite both of them insisting that a warm and safe place to sleep was enough. “You’re gonna take this, and you’re gonna thank me,” he said as he shook his head at both men. “It wouldn’t be right for me to… we worked for hours.”

 You cooked for everyone every night, and even though there was only one bed in the house along with a single small couch, when you’d run to Walmart for groceries while they shopped at the hardware store, you’d picked up a new air mattress and extra pillows, along with a few extra towels, just so everyone was covered. It wasn’t home, but you still wanted to be a good host and make sure Ryan’s friends were comfortable.

 The week after Chris and Jameson left, you got a text from Ryan while you were out taking pictures, asking you to come home. Worried, you’d stopped and climbed back into your car, thoughts racing as you made your way home. He’d shoveled the driveway while you were out, and you made a mental note to thank him, but forgot what you were going to say as soon as you walked into the house. Ryan was sitting at the small kitchen table, hands folded in front of him, hair loose and hanging over his eyes. What’s going on? “Ry… what… are you OK?” He looked up at you for a second, and you saw that his eyes were rimmed in red, though his cheeks were dry. 

 “I just got a phone call.” He cleared his throat. “Come sit.” You did, slipping your boots off and making your way across the room, pulling a chair out and moving it around the table so that you were closer to Ryan before you sat. A phone call? The last time, it was… “Ginny… Ginny wants me to come an’ see her and Henry.” Ryan looked up at you again, fear in his eyes. “He’s gonna be four, and she thinks…” He took a deep breath. “She wants him to know Cowboy’s friends, thinks it’s…” 

 “That’s great, Ryan, I know you miss her, and you miss him, and maybe seeing them will…” You were smiling, leaning in to take Ryan’s hand in yours and squeezing. “I’m glad she called you, I know you said she didn’t -”

 “That means…” He looked up again, and you saw an uneasy look in his eyes. “Means I gotta go back to Utah. Back to… Ogden.” 

 “Oh, Ryan, I…” Jackie. 

 --- 

Ryan’s POV 

 He watched as you stared at him, saw the change in your eyes, the way you tried to keep your expression even. That’s how I feel too. He’d been thrilled to see Ginny’s number on his phone’s screen, happy to hear her voice after two and a half years … but when she’d said she got his new number from Georgie and asked him if he could swing by the next time he was passing through, Ryan had paused before answering. “I told her… told her what I.. what we were up to, and she was surprised.” Ryan forced a smile. “Told her I’d try to make it out, but that with the weather, I didn’t know how soon it would be.” 

 “Of course, Ryan, you’ve got to be excited to get back out there and see them. Henry’s… he’s a little person now, and -”

 “Stop.” Don’t drag this out. “You know what Utah means.” You flinched at that, but Ryan turned his hand over, his fingers curling around yours. “Ginny said she’s not livin’ with her mom anymore, her and Henry got their own apartment, but Ogden’s small, and it…”

 “Ryan.” You scooted closer to him, shaking your head. “You don’t need to explain yourself.” You tilted your head back, staring at the ceiling. “I know you’re not going to go there and look for her.” You looked back at him and he felt his heartbeat speed up, eyes moving over your face quickly. “I hope you-”

 “Will you come with me?” The words came out in a rush. “I want you to meet my friends, and you can’t meet Cowboy, but… but Ginny and Henry are -”

 “If you want me to, Ry.” You moved your chair even closer, reaching out with the hand that he wasn’t holding to push his hair away from his eyes. “Just let me know when.” 

--- 

 January slipped into February, and though little changed - Ryan still working with you to finish the house, playing out twice a week, writing music and updating his online accounts with videos  - the closer spring got, the more anxious he was. It wasn’t just that he was worried that he might run into Jackie or Lia in Utah, he was worried about seeing Ginny again after so long. Before, the three of them would go months without seeing each other, and then catch up as if no time at all had passed, but things were different - and Ryan knew it. It’ll be fine. She really wants me there, she wouldn’t have called if she didn’t. 

 He worked hard on the house with your help, and by the time you were putting the finishing touches on it, it was nearly March, and the weather was finally clearing. You scheduled the home inspection, and once the man gave the go-ahead, you took photographs of the interior of the house, listing it for sale. “Now we wait, Ryan.” You were right, of course, and so the two of you busied yourself with exploring the city while you waited for buyers. He kept Ginny updated, sending messages back and forth with the woman, and when, finally, you accepted an offer from a buyer that was contingent on the bank fully approving the loan they’d need, Ryan called his old friend again. He paced in the driveway as he talked, the sun warm on his shoulders though the air was still chilly. “Hey, Ginny, the house… we found someone to buy it, soon as we get approval from the bank, we can…” He took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the distant mountains. “We can head up to you.” 

 “Yeah?” He confirmed, and Ginny spoke again. “We’re happy to have you, Ryan, but we got an apartment, and there’s no room for you to -”

 “S’ok,Ginny, we’ll stay in a motel or somethin’, it’s no big deal.” He’d already figured that you’d stay somewhere else, and remembered that while there weren’t a ton of hotels in the city, there were enough. “We’ll be drivin’ in, so gettin’ to you and Henry won’t -”

 “She’s coming with you, Ryan?” Why wouldn’t she? “I figured…”

 “She wants to meet, you, Virginia.” His voice low, Ryan ran his hand through his hair. “You and Henry, and I want her to, she…” Ryan drew his lower lip into his mouth, pausing. “You’re gonna love her, Ginny.” And he really thought she would, could picture the two of you talking over coffee or dinner, sitting on the couch and trading stories about Ryan. It’ll be good. 

 So you packed up your Colorado home, moving the few belongings you had into a small storage area until you knew where you’d end up next, you remarking to Ryan that your possessions were scattered across the United States and him replying by saying “yeah, but now it means you gotta go back to pick ‘em all up.” The smile you gave him made his chest tight; he’d never met anyone as excited about the prospect of travel as you, and that made him happier than he’d ever thought he could be without actually being on the road full time. The night before you were set to leave for Utah, you and Ryan were sleeping on the air mattress - the last thing in the house aside from your packed luggage and the two guitar cases -  in the middle of the living room, but Ryan had woken up before your alarm, before you’d even moved from your position curled into his side. 

 He stared over at you, shifting slightly against the soft surface of the airbed and used one hand to brush your hair away from your face, the tips of his fingers glancing off of your skin. He watched you in the low light that crept in around the corners of the drawn blinds, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks as you enjoyed your last few minutes of sleep before getting into the car, and wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. Not only being with you, but finding you in the first place still seemed unreal to him on some days. After Jackie, he’d been resigned to being alone after seeing what being with someone had been like, what it had taken from him to even try, but in all those months knowing you, he’d never felt like he’d actually sacrificed anything - not once. 

 He’d been sleeping next to you for just shy of two years, telling you he loved you, doing what he could to take care of you, and you’d never once questioned his intentions or his ability to prioritize. You’d never asked anything of him that you wouldn’t have done yourself, and yet he knew that  you still worried sometimes that you were asking too much of him. But the more he thought about the trip you were about to begin, the more he wondered if he was asking too much of you. He wanted you to meet Ginny and Henry, wanted you to meet Cowboy’s brother if he was still in town… but Ryan knew the risks, knew what going back to that snowy little town at the base of the mountains meant. 

 It wasn’t the trip itself he was worried about; the drive was easy. It’s under eight hours. Less than a day. Ryan took a breath, tilting his head down to kiss the top of your head. It’s what happens when we get there. “Hey, sleepy.” His own voice low and thick, Ryan said your name. “Time to wake up.” You sighed, groaning, and scooted closer to him, your hand pressed against his bare chest. “C’mon, we get on the road by 5:30 we can be there by …”

 “I know, Ryan, but…” You leaned in, lips finding the skin at the base of his throat. “But you’re warm, and…” He heard you sigh, felt the rush of warmth hit him as you exhaled. “And I’m comfortable and…”

 “Don’t lie to me.” He grinned, pushing you gently away from him, and at your reaction, he continued. “This thing’s not made for two people. We’re not comfortable.” But it was - to him - because he was used to sleeping on floors and the hard metal bottoms of train cars, and though he would have chosen any of them again in a heartbeat if it meant you had a comfortable place to sleep, Ryan was comfortable anywhere he was with you in his arms. “We gotta get up, get…”

 “I know.” You slowly sat up, hair falling forward and over one shoulder. “Gotta get dressed and start driving to U-”

 “Ginny.” He met your eyes without blinking. “To her and Henry and a few days with my friends.” You wouldn’t admit it to him, but he could hear it in that moment - when your guard was down as you chased the final remnants of sleep away - you were worried about what going to Ogden would bring. “It’s got memories, yeah, but Utah’s… just a place.” He shook his head. “Just a stop. Just a reminder of a couple… months of my life.” He swallowed, sitting up and hearing the mattress squeak beneath him. “It’s not about where I’m goin’ anymore, it’s where I’ve been.”  You widened your eyes and he reached out, running a thumb over the back of your hand. “Let’s get dressed, an’ get the car packed up.” You closed your eyes for a moment and then moved to get up, but Ryan’s fingers closed around yours. “Wait.” 

 “What, R-” He leaned in, kissing you by surprise and after almost no time at all, you kissed him back, pulling your hand away from his to hold onto his upper arms, Ryan’s fingers tangling in your hair. “Good morning to you, too, Brenner.” He laughed quietly, swallowing, and then kissed you again, this time pressing his lips gently over different parts of your face. He started with your lips and then moved to your cheek, working his way back to your ear and then up to your temple, where they lingered. “Thought you wanted to leave, Ry.” But you didn’t pull away, instead using your fingers to tease the skin of his shoulders and upper back, grip tightening. 

 “We gotta.” He admitted it to you, sighing, and then leaned back, looking at you. “But it’s our last mornin’ here, and…” He shrugged, tilting his head. “I had to continue the celebration from last…” You laughed, releasing his shoulders and stood, the bottom hem of his shirt barely grazing the tops of your thighs. 

 “Ryan, if we do that, we won’t be out of here for hours.” He lowered his head, fighting back a smile. “Come on, it’s not that long a drive, and we’ll get there in time for lunch.” You took a few steps away from the air mattress and Ryan watched as you moved, eyes fixed on your bare legs. “Get up, Brenner, I don’t hear you moving.” He swore as he stood, pulling his pants up a little higher and stepped over to where you were standing in front of the built in countertop, your clothes folded neatly on top of it. Ryan took a deep breath, his fingertips running up the backs of your legs as he stepped behind you. 

 “Promise me somethin’, alright?” He leaned in, burying his nose in your hair. “Promise me that when we check in - before we eat, before we go see Ginny, you’ll…” He gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into your flesh and urged your them back and into his. “You’ll give me a few minutes of your time.” You groaned, moaning his name out quietly, elongating both syllables. 

 “I’d give you all of ‘em, Ry.” You turned to face him, clothing forgotten. “Every single one.” Good.  You both went silent, staring at each other, and then you rose onto your toes, your arms going around his neck. “I love you, Ryan.” You swallowed, his grip on your waist tightening. “So much. I don’t say it as often as I want to, because I don’t want -”

 “No.” He shook his head, ducking it down to meet yours. “You tell me. You tell me whenever you want, because…” He kissed you, but wasn’t trying to start anything; he just wanted the feel of your lips against his. “Because I know you mean it, an’...” He kissed you again. “An’ I’ll never get sick of hearin’ it.” You nodded but didn’t say anything, and Ryan closed his eyes, squeezing them shut. “We gotta get dressed, we need to get on the road, we…” You pulled your arms from around him and turned, again grabbing the stack of clothes and making your way to the master bathroom. 

 “I’ll meet you by the door in five minutes.” 

--- 

 You’d pulled out of the driveway at 5:36 am, only a few minutes after your initially planned time, and as Ryan watched the trailer fade from view, keys shut into the lockbox hanging on the back door, he grinned. That’s house number four. Little over a  year and I’ve helped to flip four houses. It wasn’t what he wanted to do with his life, but he had to admit that the money that he’d made from each of the renovations was more than he’d expected, giving him a safety net at the very least, and the comfort of knowing that no matter where he went - with you permanently or on his own briefly - he wouldn’t have to worry about eating or finding a place to sleep. That had been the biggest struggle for him, he realized as he gave you his order under the bright lights of the drive thru menu. He’d never seen himself as poor, but Ryan had lived hand to mouth for most of his adult life, relying on the kindness of strangers and the occasional splurge on a motel room with a larger group, but he’d never been well off, either. Not like her.

 He took the bag of food from you and unwrapped your sandwich partially, handing it back to you. “Thanks, Ry.” You both chewed thoughtfully as you turned onto US-160, and Ryan’s eyes moved over the landscape from under the brim of his hat, everything still mostly hidden by darkness. 

 You’d never made him feel like his financial status mattered much to you. Even when he hadn’t known how well off you were, Ryan simply assumed that you were like most people your age - a decent job, vacation time, spending a few days in Las Vegas with your friends, and enjoying the city. You’d talked about money with him the second night over your shared meal, Ryan casually admitting that he normally wouldn’t have been able to afford the room or the food you offered to him - but you’d ignored it, choosing instead to focus on him instead of digging into it further and questioning him. That’s not how it is anymore. He finished his first sandwich, balling up the wrapper and putting it back in the bag before pulling out hash browns, reaching over to pop a piece of one into your mouth so that you didn’t have to pull your hands from the wheel. I’m still not rich, but I don’t need to be. I just need… He took a deep breath, turning his head to look at you. “The last time I was goin’ this way to Utah, I…” Ryan swallowed, surprised at his words. “It was even colder than this, an’ I was in an open train car.” 

 “Yeah?” You glanced over at him, smiling. “You don’t talk about that much, when you came to Utah for the first time.”

 “Wasn’t the first time, though.” He finished the potato, offering you one of your own but you shook your head. “Went to Salt Lake City for a couple days with Ginny and Cowboy a couple years before I ended up in Ogden, but I never made it that far north.” He settled back into the seat, eyes on the road in front of you. “But never in winter before, so it was a surprise, kind of, an’ I wasn’t… it was freezing.” You laughed, and Ryan continued to talk, filling the next hour and a half with a few stories about the ride up from Albuquerque, and by the time the sky was fully light and you were passing Monticello, you were both settled in. I have to say it.  “There are things I wanna show you in Ogden, things… things I think you’ll like.” 

 The sun was bright in the sky, so Ryan didn’t miss the slight frown on your face. “Things you did with -” You were being unusually forward with your unease, letting it come through in your tone, and though Ryan appreciated it, he was unhappy that he was the cause of your conflicted feelings. “It -”

 “Yes.” He swallowed, shifting in his seat to look at you. “Some of ‘em. It’s a small town, so there’s… there’s only so much that people can…” He trailed off, waiting. “It’s a little like Durango, but the mountains are… they look different.” He reached out, putting a hand on your knee. “Ski resorts close by, so there’s lots of people there, tryin’ to get the last few days of the season in.” He thought back to his final few weeks in the city, taking a deep breath. “But the town itself, you… you’ll like downtown, you’ll like Union Station.” He grinned. “There’s a train museum in there.” You laughed at that, turning your head to look at him briefly. 

“Oh yeah?” He nodded. “Bet you enjoyed that.” I did. “I looked into it, Ry, when you asked me to come with you?” He heard the change in your voice again, but this one was hopeful instead of apprehensive. “There’s some sort of… dinosaur museum?” Ryan frowned slightly, thinking. “It’s not in the city, but I thought, maybe… I don’t know, Henry might like it, if he hasn’t been?” He felt his heart flood with warmth for you, his jaw dropping slightly. “What?”

 “You looked up something to do with Henry?” Ryan sucked in a breath, free hand pulling the hat off and tossing it onto the dashboard of your car before he ran his fingers nervously through his hair. “Why -”

 “Because, Ry.” You glanced down, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “It’s something for the three of you to do, so that you can…” You trailed off again. “I’m not going to hover, Ryan. I’m not going to follow you to their place or sit and just… be there the whole time while you guys catch up. I don’t need to be, because this isn’t about me, Ryan, it’s about you guys, and your memories, and I don’t want to intrude.” 

 “You don’t have to -” 

 “No.” You sighed, eyes still on the road from behind your sunglasses. “I do.” He watched as you bit your lip. “You left pretty quick after the… after the funeral, right? Day or so later, you went to Portland?” He nodded. “And then when you went back, you were… focused on your own life.” You were right. He’d seen Ginny and Henry a few times after returning to Utah, but she’d been so distraught over the loss of Cowboy that they’d been short visits, the woman so distracted and distant that Ryan had stopped trying as often, preferring to send messages instead of calling or stopping over while he focused on his crumbling relationship with Jackie. “You guys need time. You need privacy, and you need something that’s just for the three of you, and that’s perfect.” 

 “Is it?” You nodded again, shoulders set, and Ryan couldn’t help smiling, eyes closing briefly as he looked down. 

 “Yeah, what four year old doesn’t wanna run around with dinosaurs all day?” Both of you laughed and Ryan’s attention was drawn by your removal of your glasses, turning your head so that you could look at him. “But really, you guys will have a day to yourselves, and I’ll just… I donno, walk around and take pictures, find a cafe or something. It’s fine, I’m used to being in cities like this alone, it’s no different.” You returned your gaze to the road, going quiet. 

 “You’re wrong,” he replied after a few seconds, finding his words. “You’re not alone this time, even if we spend the day apart.” 

---

Thank you for reading!

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[something-tofightfor]

SO WHAT YOU DID IT WITH RYAN BRENNER

… this isn’t even a drabble anymore, it’s basically a one-shot. ** NL/JaP universe - AFTER they leave Charleston.**

Turns out I miss Ryan. Who would have thought? 

Word Count: 3,291

He felt everything - the warmth of the lights, the energy from the crowd in front of him, the gentle vibration of the guitar that he held on his lap as he strummed it - but at the same time, Ryan felt nothing. Shouldn’t be like this. Ryan took a deep breath and continued singing, his eyes opening as he scanned the crowd, taking everything in. I shouldn’t… Shaking his head slightly, Ryan focused back on the music, leaning in closer to the microphone and feeling his lip curl as he pulled the words from deep within his chest. The song ended, notes fading away, and Ryan paused, catching his breath and reaching for the bottle of water on the small table next to him. 

 “Thank you.” He cleared his throat after swallowing, gripping the neck of the instrument with one hand and running his fingers through his hair with the other. “Got one more for you, and then I’m gonna take a break.” He heard someone whistle and cracked a smile, nodding. “Then I’ll be back for the second half of my set.”  He looked over the crowd again, catching the eye of a young woman that was grinning at him, arms crossed on the table she sat at, body leaning forward as if she was trying to get closer to him without leaving her seat. He was in Arizona, and because it was the beginning of summer, it was hot - meaning that she (and the other patrons in the bar) were dressed for the weather. She doesn’t even know me. “I uh…” He frowned and looked down at the guitar - yours - allowing himself a small smile. “I wrote this one last winter.” He strummed once, nodding. “Wrote it for my girl… even though she wasn’t really mine at  the time, and I didn’t know how…” Ryan shook his head. They don’t care. “Anyway. It’s one of my favorites.” He sat up, cocking his head to the side and closing his eyes, fingers starting to move. I miss you. 

 — 

 Between his sets, Ryan made sure to secure the guitar safely in its case, tucking it in the break room before he stepped back into the crowd, mingling. He had nearly 45 minutes before he was supposed to play again, and though he was more than happy to talk with the people that were there to watch him, Ryan desperately wanted some time alone to think. I need to… He pulled his phone out of his pocket while he waited for the bartender to get him a beer, thumbing away alerts and gritted his teeth as he saw that you hadn’t messaged him. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to look, unsurprised to see that it was the woman from the table, her long, dark hair falling down her back and bright blue eyes shining, even in the low light of the bar area. “Buy you a drink, Ryan?” She licked her lips, nodding at the beer that the bartender had just set on the counter. “Next one, I mean?”

 Ryan picked up the glass, condensation dampening his fingers slightly as they curled around the smooth surface. “I’m actually covered here.” He took a long drink, swallowing as he thought. “I drink for free on the nights I play.” She laughed, and Ryan smiled at the sound, though he felt himself holding back a wince. It doesn’t even sound… 

 “Well then maybe when you’re done, I can get you a drink from somewhere else.” She leaned in, pressing her lips together after signaling to the bartender that she wanted a new drink, too. “You mentioned a girl, but it doesn’t look like she’s here.” Ryan felt himself inhale sharply, his grip on the drink tightening. “I-”

 “‘Preciate it.” Ryan straightened up, shaking his head. “But you’re right. She’s not here, and it wouldn’t feel right if I let you do that.” He shrugged, watching as annoyance flashed in the woman’s eyes. “Thank you for comin’ out to see me, though.” He smiled - a genuine one - and watched the woman’s eyes widen again. “I’ll be here a couple more nights before I head out, and move on…” 

 “Well.” The woman held up her own glass, bringing the small straw up to her lips. “Ryan Brenner, whoever your girl is is a lucky woman.” Is she? “Not many men would be faithful when you’re…” She gestured to him with one hand, eyes roaming his body. “Well, you.” He laughed quietly, nodding. “Worth a shot right?” Ryan agreed and without saying anything else, he turned away from the bar and headed for the back patio exit, settling down on a low brick wall as he looked out over the desert, lights extending a few miles out and then stopping, disappearing almost completely into the darkness. Though he’d been in Arizona for weeks already, he’d only been in Phoenix for a few days, and was still getting used to the area. He’d landed in Tucson, carrying nothing but your guitar and his backpack, filled with the essentials - and had made the most of his time, scouting out open mic nights and bars looking for gigs. He’d made decent money playing, and had attracted nearly 100 new Instagram followers in the short time he’d been away from Olathe - and from you - but he didn’t know why he still felt empty. It shouldn’t feel like this. 

 Ryan took a long drink of his beer, savoring the taste, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes that he’d bought nearly a week prior - his first in months - and lit one, taking a long drag from it as he continued to look out and into the darkness, thinking. Should I call? But as he sat and smoked, Ryan’s mind wandered, phone staying tucked into his pocket. No. 

 — 

 The two of you had settled into the house in Olathe in the last week of March, most of your things staying in storage so that you could focus on the restoration of the house without anything in your way. He’d chosen it based on the pictures that he found on the Internet, talking things over with David and the realtor before he’d even brought it up to you - but you’d agreed almost immediately, pointing out that there was a lot you could do with the kitchen and some paint, that you were looking forward to staining and sanding the wooden floors… and Ryan had known that it was the right decision. 

 You’d paid for the house out of pocket without batting an eye, signing the necessary paperwork via faxes and emails, and by the time Ryan and David had finished with the second flip in the second week of March, you’d already packed up most of your Charleston house, ready to go. Both men had been surprised at how easily they’d been able to finish working on the houses, the second one being purchased on January 19th - before the first had even sold, though it had taken only six and a half weeks to finish in total. Inspired by the success of the first flip, Lauren, Ryan and David - plus the other crew members - had turned the second out out in almost record time, too. It hadn’t sold before you two had left South Carolina, but the day that the check had been wired to him in the middle of April, Ryan had signed the majority of it over to you - paying you back for the money you’d already invested in Olathe. 

 For a few weeks, the two of you had worked in tandem, Ryan focusing much of his time on getting things prepped and ready to go. He didn’t have the luxury of a team like he’d had with David, but the house didn’t need a ton of work, and so he’d been confident that even if it took him a little bit of time, he’d get things done to his satisfaction. By the beginning of May, you were focused on the final details of your show, and Ryan had hit a wall with renovations - tile and fixtures were on backorder, and there was little the two of you could do but wait and try to get other, less important projects done. He’d been too frustrated to write, too tired to record and had only played out a few times since you’d moved, and Ryan felt off. You’d noticed, though, and on a Saturday afternoon - the sun bright in the sky - you’d pulled him out onto the front steps of the house, holding his hand tightly as you spoke. 

 “Ryan.” You took a deep breath, turning to face him without letting go of his hand. “You…” He frowned, waiting. “Do you feel… stuck?” He sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “You’ve been different since we came here.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you reached over with your free hand, pressing a finger to his lips. “Let me talk, ok?” And he had, listening to you tell him what you’d noticed, what you saw, how being around him felt to you - like every second you were waiting for him to tell you that he was leaving because he needed a break. 

 “But I don’t.” He shook his head, tightening his grip on your hand. “I’m happy, I want to -”

 “You aren’t, Ryan.” You offered a smile, shaking your head. “When you play, it’s all sad. You haven’t recorded in days, you haven’t… “ You gestured toward the house. “You wanted this, but you wanted more than this, too.” Shifting closer, you reached over to take his other hand. “I don’t want you to regret this.” Regret what? “You need to go, Ryan.” His jaw dropped, head moving back and forth. “Just for a little while, go and pick somewhere, and take your guitar.” You looked down, staring at your feet. “It’s been almost a year, Ryan, and we haven’t been apart for more than a few days at a time, and I know that you …”

 “You know that I what?” He’d ducked his head down, pulling his hand from yours and using his fingers to tilt your chin up. “I don’t need to travel, to be…” But even as he spoke, Ryan felt a lightness in his chest, the idea taking hold. Maybe I do… maybe I need some time, maybe I need… 

 Over the next few days, he’d looked into different destinations, choosing to go west again, knowing that it would be warm and sunny, that there would likely be people he knew out that way - and when he’d told you that he picked Arizona, you’d nodded, turning away from your computer to look up at him. “Take as long as you need, Ryan.” He’d seen in your eyes that you were preparing for the worst, that you expected him to find something during the trip that he didn’t have by staying in one place, and yet you were still encouraging him to go. “I don’t want you to resent me, Ry.” Standing, you’d hugged him tightly, face buried in his chest. Resent you? How? “Just promise me one thing.” You’d pulled away from him, looking up into his eyes and after a pause, continued. “No hitchhiking.” 

 — 

Being back out on the road was therapeutic for Ryan, and as he stubbed out the cigarette on the brick next to him, he sighed deeply. You’d been right - something had been off for him in the weeks leading up to his departure, you dropping him off at the airport and wishing him luck, telling him you’d see him soon - but as Ryan moved from gig to gig, taking a bus between cities instead of finding a ride, he was no closer to figuring out what it was. Is it her? Do I feel this way because I’m so… or is it because I’m so far from what I thought my life would be like? Ryan didn’t know, but what he did know was that playing music was making him feel more like himself, even if there was still a hollow in his chest. 

 You weren’t avoiding each other; you weren’t fighting, and there wasn’t any reason that you hadn’t been in close contact, but it seemed that you were truly giving him a chance to figure things out. He’d only spoken to you on the phone a handful of times in the weeks he’d been gone, choosing to send you messages and pictures instead, and you hadn’t pushed for things to change, but it still relieved him each time you liked one of his pictures or the dots that let him know you were typing a response appeared on his screen. He didn’t know what he was waiting for when it came to you - and no amount of staring at the ceilings of his motel rooms seemed to help. “Holy shit.” 

 Ryan paused with the beer glass at his lips, eyes widening as he turned his head toward the voice, eyes landing on the man that had spoken. “Georgie?” Blinking a few times, the smaller man stepped forward, head tilted to the side. “What are you doin’ here?” 

 “Ryan goddamn Brenner.” Georgie’s eyes swept the patio and then returned to Ryan, a smile on his lips. “It’s good to see you, it’s been -” 

 “Almost a year.” He stood, hesitantly reaching out to shake the man’s hand, and Georgie swatted Ryan’s hand away, instead pulling him in for a tight hug that Ryan returned after a few seconds of hesitation. “Georgie, I -” 

 “It’s good to see you, Ryan.” Georgie stepped back, the smile growing. “I heard you were in town, and so I checked your page and then hauled ass to get here from El Paso.” He rubbed the side of his face. “Woulda called but I didn’t know if you’d answer, and…” Georgie shrugged. “Figured you woulda had her with you here, and…” Georgie’s eyes widened again. “But she’s not here, and you are, and you’ve been in Arizona for weeks, so…” Georgie licked his lips. “I knew you’d get tired of it, need to come back out on the road. Knew you’d need to be y-”

 “Georgie.” His tone sharper than he’d hoped it would be, Ryan closed his eyes. “I’m here because I …” Why are you here, Ryan? “Look.” Ryan swallowed, taking a breath. “You were really shitty to her in New York.” Georgie stared, a confused look on his face. “And I get it, but it was still bullshit, man.” Ryan thought of the look on your face in the park, the easy way you’d brushed things off and walked away, head held high. “I love her.” He swallowed, voice growing stronger. “And I shouldn’t have to pick between the two of you, so I won’t.” 

 “But you’re -” No. 

 “I’m here now because I’m takin’ a break on the house we’re flippin’, and she suggested I go back out on the road.” Georgie mouthed the word ‘flipping’, eyes locked on Ryan’s. “Yeah, we bought a house to flip after we moved outta the one in Charleston, and we’re in Kansas now, prob’ly stay there for a while and then move again.” Ryan’s heart thumped in his chest. This is what I want. 

 “So… what, you did it?” Georgie pressed his lips together. “You… put down roots?” Ryan shook his head. No. No, we didn’t. I didn’t. Not… 

 “No. We’re flippin’ a house, and then we’ll move into the next once that one sells, and…” Ryan shrugged. “It’s steady work, and I get to do things like this, and she…” He sucked in a breath. Holy shit. That’s… “Look, Georgie.” Ryan’s heart was pounding, his hand itching to reach into his pocket. “We gotta long way to go if we’re gonna be friends again, but…” Ryan took a deep breath. “It’d be real nice to play with you again tonight, if you’ve got…” As Ryan spoke, Georgie turned slightly, using one hand to lift the strap of the backpack he wore. “Good.” Ryan pulled his phone out, pressing the button to light the screen up. “My second set starts in fifteen, so if you want…” Georgie nodded eagerly, squeezing his eyes shut. 

 “Yeah.” He paused. “That… I’d like that, Ryan.” Ryan tightened his hold on his phone, waiting. “Lemme go and make sure it’s…” Georgie kept talking and Ryan nodded, watching as the man turned and walked off of the patio and into the parking lot, where it was quieter. Plenty of time. When the man was out of sight, Ryan sat back down, scrolling through his phone until he found your contact information, pressing the call button. Please answer. 

 It rang twice and then you picked up, voice sleepy in his ear. “Hello?” Ryan felt his breath catch. Why was I even worried? He paused before he answered, deciding not to tell you the full reason that he was calling over the phone - opting to wait until he saw you in person. It’s the right call. “Ry?” You sighed. “You there? Did you mean -”

 “I love you.” He swallowed, the words coming out in a rush. “I know it’s late, but I wanted to… I know what …” He sighed. “Look.” You laughed quietly, but didn’t say anything else. “When do you have to be in San Francisco? I can’t remember what day you said you were flying out.” 

 “Middle of next week, Ryan, I’m leaving on Tuesday, I have to be there the 30th of May to start setting up and mounting frames, so I’m going a few days early.” He closed his eyes, thinking. We found each other on the 30th, I have to… “I’ll only be there until the 3rd, the opening is the second, and I wanted to come back here and start-”

 “I’m not coming home.” He licked his lips, shaking his head as he opened his eyes. “I-”

 “Oh.” It was only one word, but he heard the understanding in your voice. “Alright, I…” You paused. “I didn’t…”

 “I’ll meet you in San Francisco instead, if that’s OK.” He took a deep breath. “It’s stupid for me to fly back east and then immediately west, I’m closer to California out here.” He waited, but you didn’t respond, so he continued. “Just… bring some of my clothes with you, yeah? Somethin’ nice for me to wear to the gallery?” 

 “You’re..” He heard your voice trembling. “You’re not staying there? You want to…” He felt his chest get tight as you fought to get the words out. She thought I was going to abandon her…after all this, she thought… “It’s been weeks, Ryan, I thought you…” 

 “I wouldn’t miss it.” He sighed. “We have a lot to talk about, but…” Ryan pulled his phone away from his ear, checking the time. Shit. “God, I can’t wait to see you. It’s been too long.” 

 “Talk about?” You still sounded worried, but Ryan only laughed, shaking his head and feeling better than he had in weeks. 

 “Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “But don’t worry, I promise you’ll…” He licked his lips, tasting the dry air. “You’ll like what I’m gonna say.” Georgie stepped back onto he patio, fiddle in hand and Ryan swore. “I gotta go, though, my second set is startin’… and I’ve… got a guest.” You asked who, and as Ryan stood, picking up his beer glass, he continued. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so… “ Ryan grinned. “Watch my Instagram in a few minutes.” Sounding confused, you agreed. “I gotta go, though. I love you.” 

 “Love you too, Ry.” You paused. “I miss you.” He nodded though you couldn’t see him, his eyes moving over the crowd that had gathered back near the stage. Gotta find someone to hold my phone. 

 “Yeah.” He closed his eyes. “Yeah, I miss you, too.” 

—

[something-tofightfor]

(s)He’s a Tiger

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader

Word Count: 5975

Rating: N S F W 

Summary: The night of your gallery opening, you and Ryan decide it’s time to finish something that started in Las Vegas. 

You need to read Neon Lights and the first chapter of Just a Place to understand where this is coming from... and why it’s such a big deal. 

Author’s Note: I’ve been working on this for MONTHS, and finally feel like it’s right. Since there’s no smut at all in NL or JaP and there is a severe lack of Ryan Brenner zest on here... I felt that I needed to give this to them. 

Also.... part two will be from Ryan’s POV, so you’ve been warned. 

Feel free to ask me to add you!

Tag list: @traeumerinwitzhelden @mfackenthal @songtoyou @obscurilicious @elanor-of-imladris @thesumofmychoices @suchatinyinfinity @audreychaz @benbarnestongue @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @the-blind-assassin-12 @ms-delos @lexxierave @dreams-with-thoughts @gollyderek @agentlingerie @nananananananananananabatman @weallhaveadestiny @breanime @ificouldhelpyouforget

The drive home from the gallery was no different than the one to it - you and Ryan keeping up a steady stream of conversation, his fingers wrapped tightly around yours on the center console as he steered with one hand.  You knew that he was trying to distract you from the previously discussed topic, but it wasn’t working. All you could think about was him - the fact that he didn’t want to wait, the fact that he’d thought things through and prepared - that he wanted to be with you as much as you wanted to be with him - as much as you’d wanted to be with him for a year. I’m going to get to… he’s going to… You shook your head, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he turned onto your driveway, pressing the button to open your gate before he drove through it. “Hey.” His voice was quiet in the dark, and as he stopped the car, removing the keys from the ignition, Ryan shifted in his seat to turn toward you, pulling his hand from yours. “I didn’t mean to be… I didn’t want to assume that this was the…” He stopped himself, swearing under his breath. “This is…”

 “Ryan?” You spoke quickly, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t. I want this. I want you.” You’re all I want. You watched his lips quirk up into a smile along with the slight ducking of his head. “Don’t question this. Please.” He nodded, but only once, and then locked eyes with you again, the expression on his face one of relief, even in the dim light. 

 “Yeah?” You nodded too, leaning in and kissing him on the lips briefly, hand tightening on his shoulder. “Ok.” He sniffed, and when he spoke again, you heard resolve in his voice. “We’ll go inside, and you should go and get changed, yeah?” You nodded, feeling his hand sliding up your arm. “I’ve got a few things I need to take care of.” 

 “What -” He shook his head, the smile on his lips seeming to light up the darkness of the car. 

 “Don’t worry about it.” He leaned in, mouth next to your ear. “I wanna do this right for you, you deserve it.” You felt him shift, the skin of his bearded cheek rubbing against yours as he took your earlobe between his lips and then his teeth, biting gently. “I’m gonna do right by you. I’ve been thinkin’ about this for so long.” He sat up, pulling back from you and exited the car, heading toward the main door and unlocking it before he glanced back over his shoulder at you, his eyes looking bottomless in the glare of the security light. “You comin’?” Hopefully very soon. You smiled at the thought and nodded your head, following Ryan’s footsteps into the house where you dropped your purse onto the couch as you passed by it, turning toward your room. “See you in a few?” You nodded again, your hand on the doorknob. 

 “Ryan?” He stopped at the top of the stairs leading to the basement, turning halfway back to you with a focused look on his face. “What should I wear?” He thought for a moment and then you watched as his eyes darkened, the smile that graced his lips sending a shudder throughout your body. He’s never looked at me like that before. 

 “Somethin’ you won’t mind losin’, hmm?” Oh. Biting your lip, you nodded back, watching as Ryan’s eyes slid down your body and then back up to your face. “Somethin’ …” He paused, swallowing and you decided to respond in kind, licking your lips. 

 “I got it, Ry.” Turning away from him, you reached behind you, pulling the zipper of your dress down to give him a glimpse of your bare back before you stepped into your bedroom. “Loud and clear.” You heard him groan quietly, but the sound was lost in your laugh as you moved further into your bedroom and toward your dresser. 

 Fifteen minutes later, you were sitting on the edge of your bed, waiting. What is he doing? You hadn’t heard anything from outside of the room you were in, but you’d been surprised to see the pool lights come on in the backyard only a few minutes after you’d left Ryan, just as you pulled an oversized white t shirt of his over your head without putting on a bra. If he’s going to take it off of me, why worry about it? You’d paired it with black boyshorts, wanting to have something to cover your lower half beneath the shirt, but you’d removed all of your makeup, pulling your hair into a ponytail. 

 The longer you waited, the more nervous you got. What if I disappoint him? What if I’m not what he wants? You picked at the nail of one thumb with the fingers of your other hand, staring out the window toward the back yard, but there was still silence from the rest of the house. It’s been two years, what if I can’t… “Hey.” You looked up, startled, and saw that Ryan was in the doorway, leaning against the frame in the same pose he’d been in when he’d come out of the Flamingo bathroom talking about her, arm crossed over his chest to grip his opposite shoulder. No. Not tonight. She doesn’t get to ruin this. He’d changed too, into a pair of loose pants and a dark t shirt, his feet bare, and while he looked excited, he also seemed nervous.“You wanna come with me?” 

 His voice was low, anxious and filled with desire all at the same time, and you stood, crossing the room toward him. “I do, Ryan.” His eyes followed your movement, lingering on your bare legs before they moved back to your face. “We’re not stayi-” As you got closer, Ryan’s arm shot out toward you, gripping you by the shoulder and pulling you closer. 

 “No.” He cleared his throat, leaning down to kiss your temple, his other hand moving to your waist. “I got somethin’ ready for you.” What? Ryan stood up straight again and brought the hand from your shoulder up to your face, thumb dragging over the skin of your neck and cheek before moving across your lips slowly, his gaze focused entirely on you. “We’re goi-” You opened your mouth slightly, feeling the pad of his thumb against your teeth and Ryan stopped speaking, sucking in a breath as he bent his finger, his own lips parting as he watched the tip of it disappear into your mouth. 

 Running your tongue along the edge of it, you pursed your lips and sucked gently, fighting the urge to close your eyes as he pushed his thumb deeper into your mouth, the hand at your waist pulling you flush against his body. He indulged you for a few seconds, your tongue swirling around the end of his finger and then he pulled his hand away, the edge of his thumbnail catching on your lip. “Ryan, what…” He groaned, closing his eyes and leaning in to kiss you without saying a word. He’d brushed his teeth in the time you’d been apart; you could taste the mint on his tongue as it met yours - much like you had the first time you’d ever kissed him. Gotta be a coincidence, right? “Mmm, Ry, you gotta…” 

 “I gotta what?” He pulled away slightly, his lips moving from your mouth to your cheek and then to your jaw, arms still holding you close, the one at your waist sliding around to rest on your lower back. “You gonna tell me what I gotta do right now, or are you gonna let me do this my way, the way this needs to be?” You didn’t speak - you couldn’t, instead shaking your head back and forth and feeling him smile against your skin. “That’s what I thought. C’mere.” He released you from his grasp, stepping backwards out the door and back into the hallway. 

 Following him, you reached for the hand he offered, feeling his fingers close around yours as he led you down the hallway and back toward the living room. The house was silent and dark, the only light coming from the staircase that led to the lower floor. “Ryan?” You were whispering, and he stopped at the top of the stairs, turning to face you fully and letting go of your hand. “We’re going down there?” He nodded, reaching up to your cheek with one hand, brushing back some of the loose strands of hair that framed your face before tugging gently on the portion held in place by the elastic band, winking. 

 “We are. You gotta trust me.” I do. “Ready?” A single nod was all you gave him, and he turned away from you, again reaching back to make sure that your hand was in his and that you were connected in some way as he began walking down the steps. He was still quiet as you reached the bottom, and you tore your eyes away from his broad back to look around at the room. It looked different than it had before, still lit by the table lamps that your father had chosen, but the shelves empty of most of the book collection that had filled them for years. Ryan led you through the shelves and past the sauna, past the gym room, even past the area where your guitar had been kept, finally stopping just before the doors that opened into the sunroom that overlooked the pool. Oh. 

 The lights in that room were all off, but you could see the reflection of the pool water on the ceiling, waves of light moving gracefully as it bathed parts of the room in a rippling blue hue and your heart began to pound. The cushions from the room’s furniture had been removed, placed on the floor and then covered with spare blankets and pillows to make it comfortable  - and to keep it from moving too much. “Ryan…” You were frozen on the spot, eyes moving over his shoulder and around the room, unsure of what to say. He did this for me. “Ryan, you…” 

 “I told you in Vegas,” he said as he turned and moved closer, the darkness of his eyes apparent even in the dim lighting. “You deserve all the nights. You deserve the best.” He shook his head. “You deserve someone that’s gonna make you see… I love you. I wanna be the person that makes you feel all that.” He put one finger under your chin, tilting your head back so that you were looking into his eyes. “I only got one shot at this, and I’m gonna make sure it’s right.” He licked his lips almost nervously before leaning in, mouth close to your ear. He took a breath and you heard his teeth click together, felt the movement of his jaw before he lowered his face to your shoulder, his arms encircling you. His heart is beating just as hard as mine. “Let me love you.” 

 You slid a hand beneath the bottom hem of his shirt, fingers moving across his back and then upward, nails raking along his skin as you nodded your head. Without warning, Ryan turned his head so that his mouth was on the base of your neck, sliding his hands down lower on your body, his fingers skimming over the curves below your waist. It was as handsy as he’d ever gotten with you and you sighed contentedly as his fingers made contact with the bare skin below the edges of your shorts. It was just his fingertips, roughened with all the years of work he’d done and his guitar playing -  but it was enough, and his name left your lips in a low whine, your forehead falling against his shoulder against your will. He tightened his grip at the same time as his teeth bit down gently on your skin, beard scratching against the hollow of your throat. He’s going to destroy me, this is already too much. 

 “I wanna take your shirt off.” He was speaking quietly. “I mean… I wanna take my shirt off of you.” He kissed you again, hands still roaming on the backs of your thighs. “That seems like a good place to start, doesn’t it?” You nodded, straightening up and letting your hands fall to your sides and stepping back from him as his fingers made their way back up the outside of your legs, his eyes downcast. “Watch.” You nodded once, looking down and taking a deep breath as his fingers found the hem of the shirt. This is it. He pulled the material upward, exposing your body inch by inch and even though you wanted to watch his hands - you also wanted to see the look on his face, watch him react to what he was doing, watch him finally  see all of you. 

 Once the material rose halfway up your sides, you took another breath, lifting your arms - and raising your gaze to Ryan’s face. His mouth was slightly open, and you continued to watch as Ryan lifted the shirt further, the soft material moving upward gently as if he was unwrapping a gift. Maybe he is. He groaned as your chest was finally exposed to him, eyes closing briefly before the shirt blocked your view of him for a few seconds. When it was removed and Ryan had tossed it to the side unceremoniously, you stood before him wearing only the shorts. 

 Instead of dropping your hands to your sides, you took advantage of his proximity, stepping closer and using one hand to cup his cheek, fingers moving through his beard. He said your name and then he moved, hands going to your hips as he pulled you toward him, fingers kneading the skin beneath them as his mouth latched on at your throat for long moments. You moved your hand back and pulled on his hair, the strands silky beneath your fingers as Ryan’s mouth worked it way upward before he kissed you roughly. “Wanna taste every inch of you,” he mumbled against your lips. “I’m not gonna stop, it’s not gonna be enough.” 

 “Good.” You let go of his hair, kissing him again and Ryan’s hands slid down, fingers moving between the material of your shorts and the skin at your hips, digging in before he moved both hands upward again slowly. “Ryan, you…” Biting your lower lip as he removed his mouth from yours, you closed your fingers around the material of his shirt. Neither of his hands were soft, per se, but the fingers on his right hand - ones you’d felt many times against your palms or your arms - even against your cheek - felt different from those on his left. And it was his left hand that Ryan used to skim your body from your hip upward, palm flat against your side as he worked up your ribs - you felt dizzy at his touch, the calloused digits scattering your thoughts. He’s barely touching me. He took deep breaths, steadying himself and you realized that he’d backed you toward the nest he’d created on the floor, the backs of your calves meeting the blankets. “Ryan.” You swallowed, eyes closing as he bit down on your bare shoulder. “I wanna see you, Ryan, I -” 

 Abruptly, Ryan pulled away from you, dropping both hands from your body and swiftly pulling the shirt over his own head, letting it fall to the floor. You’d seen Ryan shirtless many times before, but now you had permission to touch him freely - neither of you were going to stop, and so you acted. His pants hung low on his hips, the dark hair on his abdomen contrasting sharply with the pale skin of his body, and your fingers found it easily. He stared at you hungrily and even in the low light, you watched as his jaw worked, eyes moving over your almost nude body. “You…” He shook his head, long hair falling over his eye. “You’re perfect.” Heart thumping in your chest, you lowered yourself onto the cushions, never breaking eye contact with Ryan as you braced yourself with your hands, scooting away from the edge of the cushions. Come here. He followed your wordless command, sinking down to his knees in front of you before raising his hands again - this time to your shoulders to push you onto your back before he leaned forward, hands pressed into the blankets on either side of you 

 We’ve waited long enough, Ryan. You nodded your head almost imperceptibly as he looked down at you, eyes still focused on your face. Without speaking, you reached over, pulling one of his hands from the cushions and placing it on the center of your chest, his eyes following the movement. The glance downward as you laid on your back was all Ryan needed, the hand moving to the right and squeezing. You gasped out his name at the change in contact, and with a happy sigh realized that you’d guided the left hand to your chest. I know what I want. His roughened forefinger moved in a slow circle over your peaked nipple, causing it to stiffen further and you closed your eyes at the sensation. Ryan. 

 He didn’t remove his hand from your skin before he lowered his mouth to your neck, and the combination of his lips and tongue moving over your skin as he used two fingers to pinch your nipple as the rest of them squeezed the tender flesh of your breast left you breathless. You knew what he was doing almost before he did it, even though you’d never had anything like this with Ryan before, and weren’t surprised when he continued to work down toward your chest with his mouth, a damp trail marking his progress. But Ryan surprised you, lifting his head and bringing his mouth back up and near your ear, body shifting so that his hip was pressed against your thigh. 

 “You know what I thought about on the trains at night?” His voice was low in your ear, and you froze, unable to answer. “I’ll tell you.” He sighed and you felt his breath moving over your skin, a chill coursing through your body when it hit the places on your neck and chest he’d dampened with his lips and tongue. “I thought about what it would feel like to hold ‘nto you like this. About what you’d feel like next to me.” His right hand moved from the previous spot it had taken up residence - the curve of your hip - and slid upward, his fingertips learning the contours of your body as they traced along your skin. “I thought about tellin’ you, just about every time I talked to you, every time I sent you a text.” His face moved again, just enough so that you felt the gentle scrape of his beard against your earlobe, his teeth grazing against the line of your jaw. “About how bad I wanted you, about how much I needed you, how I wanted to see you again.” 

 You’d thought about intimacy with Ryan a great deal, and would have been lying to yourself if you didn’t admit there had been nights when you’d lain in bed, imagining what it would feel like if his fingers replaced yours, wishing that you knew what it was like to feel his beard against the sensitive skin beneath your belly button, his lips fused to yours again. In the dark and empty house, you’d almost been able to hear his voice speaking quietly into your ear, telling you how good you felt, how much he wanted you, how long he’d waited to touch you - but no amount of fantasizing could have prepared you for the real thing. “Ryan, I want -”

 “I’m gonna give you what you want.” He spoke in a low tone, eyes on yours. “But I’ve never wanted anythin’ as much as I want you right now, and ‘m gonna take my time doin’ it.” He leaned back down to kiss you on the mouth, your hand rising up to the back of his head, holding him close to you. He pulled away from you and took a deep breath, and you realized that no matter how long each kiss was - no matter how many times he kissed you, none of them would be enough for you. “Tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” You nodded wordlessly, heart thundering in your chest as Ryan’s eyes disappeared from view and he lowered his face to your body again, lips making contact above your heart. 

 You wanted to remember every second of what he was doing to you, but the truth was that you couldn’t think straight when Ryan was touching you. You’d wanted him like this for a year, hands on and fully involved with you, and the fact that it was finally happening was too much for you to process at once. You felt his mouth - damp and warm - against one breast, fingers giving the other attention as he closed his teeth around the nipple, tongue flicking against it. Crying out, your back arched without pause, hands firmly in his hair as you held him in place, desperate for him to never stop, to never move. But he did, switching sides, tongue trailing across the valley of your chest before he took your other nipple into his mouth, biting down just a little harder this time. Feels so good. You couldn’t speak, and felt rather than heard the noises coming out of your throat with every pass of his tongue against your skin, each of which seemed to spur Ryan on. 

 After some time - minutes, maybe, or hours, you weren’t sure - you realized that instead of tugging on Ryan’s hair to keep him in place, you were pushing him downward, your hips lifting off of the bed. Want you Ryan, want you to… “Ryan.” It wasn’t that you said his name so much as you moaned it, legs raising the lower half of your body to rock against his. “Please, I need… I… just…” Unsure of exactly what you were saying, you heard him laugh quietly before he sat up straight, causing your hands to fall away from his body in surprise, eyes opening wide as you looked up at him. 

 He moved and knelt at your feet, both hands coming off of your body completely, Ryan illuminated by the outdoor lights behind him. You stared at him without restraint, eyes raking over his body and committing every muscle to memory. This is all I want. Everything I need. You knew that your chest was heaving, his prior actions leaving you almost breathless - unable to think clearly. You watched silently as Ryan’s tattooed fingers wrapped around your ankle, squeezing gently as he urged your leg into a bent position before his large hand slid up your calf, the edge of his nail against the back of your leg sending a shockwave through your body. Holding your breath, you widened your eyes as he bent over, lips following the path of his hand up your right leg, tongue flicking out every so often as he worked his way up the length of your leg toward your torso. 

 When his lips reached the bottom edge of your shorts he sat up again, repeating the action with your other leg, but this time, he hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of the only piece of clothing you still wore, glancing up at you once and raising an eyebrow in question. You’d never nodded in agreement to anything so quickly, and the smile that spread across Ryan’s face sent a shiver through your body as you felt the material sliding down your legs slowly. He guided one leg up even further to pull them over your foot and then simply let the fabric fall against the blankets, no longer concerned with it since it wasn’t covering you. 

 Rising up further onto your elbows, you watched Ryan, his eyes moving over your body slowly, taking everything in. You felt his palms against your thighs, squeezing gently before they moved on, one thumb brushing against the crease of skin where your leg met your body before they moved further upward, his fingertips against your ribs before he reached your breasts, pushing them together. You knew that after waiting so long, most men would have simply foregone the touching, all of the lead-up to get to what they wanted most, but Ryan’s purposeful actions told you that he wanted much more than a connection or a release - he wanted every bit of you. Ryan swiped both thumbs over the fullest parts of your breasts before letting go, one hand falling to his side and the other reaching up to push his hair away  from his eyes. “You OK?” You managed a nod, realizing that you were so tightly wound that you couldn’t form words, and Ryan’s hands moved back to your knees, which were still bent. 

 He didn’t break eye contact with you as he used those large hands to push your legs apart, your feet sliding across the blankets as you aided him. He’s… oh, Ryan. Ryan took a deep breath, moving into position between your spread legs and beginning the torturously slow journey of his hands down your legs and back toward your torso, leaning forward as he did. As Ryan’s body lowered, you watched as his hair slipped out of place again, long locks falling over his eyes and you felt your lips twitch slightly at the sight. My favorite. Ryan only looked away from you when his lips touched the skin of your abdomen, one soft kiss after another left there. It felt better than you’d imagined it would, the sensation of his lips heightened by the gentle drag of his beard on your lower stomach, not leaving any centimeter of bared skin untouched. You cried out as he dipped his tongue into your navel, licking once before using his teeth to scrape against the skin as he moved lower. 

 Ryan’s hands were locked on your hips, thumbs pressing down on bone as his fingers curved around your body, holding you in place. “Just for a second,” he murmured against you, breath heating your already warm skin. “Just gotta taste…” Fighting with yourself not to fall apart as his mouth dropped even more, you watched the top of Ryan’s head move, your fingers gripping the blankets tightly. Ryan kissed his way across the area between his thumbs, beginning to move them in slow circles, not letting up on the pressure he was applying. I can’t focus, I don’t know what to - 

 The sound that left your throat when his breath hit the dampness between your legs was unlike anything you’d ever made before - a mix between a yelp and a prolonged moan, and it spurred Ryan on, his head tilting slightly to the side without pause. You collapsed onto your back as he extended his tongue, the thick muscle delving deeply into you - over and over, as if he was trying to consume you with each movement. “Ryan.” You swallowed, grip on the blankets tightening as your legs fell open wider, toes curling. “Ryan. Ryan” The third time you said his name, you realized that you were whispering, barely able to get the single word out. Finally. 

 He continued for a few moments longer before moving his mouth upward, teeth grazing your skin before his tongue flicked out again, moving back and forth over the most sensitive place on your body as if he’d done it to you a hundred times before instead of this being the first. Without warning, Ryan’s tongue stopped, lips closing around you as he sucked - first gently and then harder after you’d cried out his name again, legs going rigid as you tensed every muscle in your body. But he pulled away quickly - too soon. Way too soon - and sat up straight again, still pushing down on your hips. “Too much?” He spoke quietly, lips parted as he tried to catch his breath, and you gave a single shake of your head, eyes finally open again. 

 “N...never, Ry.” He grinned at the words, letting go of your body and putting his hands on his waist, but you shot up into a sitting position, shaking your head. “No, please.” You licked your lips, one hand reaching out to grab his wrist, the other going to the side of his face. “Let me, Ryan, I need... Please.” He moved his hands away from his body, bringing them up to your face. Gently, he cradled it between his large palms as he stared at you, eyes full of a longing that you imagined was reflected in your own. You took that as a sign, reaching out to him with both hands and trailing your fingers down his sides and then over his belly, nails catching in the elastic waistband of his low-hanging pants.

 Ryan closed the distance between your faces, pressing his forehead to yours and then glancing down, you doing the same. The two of you watched together as you pulled on the elastic with one hand and reached into his pants with the other, finally wrapping your fingers around his length before you carefully pulled his pants down, the material bunching slightly after you’d freed him. He sucked in a breath as you made contact with his skin, your name whispered as his hands fell away from you, hanging limply at his sides. Oh, fuck. You moved your hand slowly along his length a few times, your free hand on his hip, foreheads still pressed together. This is happening. I’m touching him, I… fuck. “Jesus.” Ryan’s response was little more than a moan, and he gave you a chance to make a few exploratory movements before he brought a hand up, covering yours with his own and closing his fingers around you, guiding your movement. Ryan lowered his body so that the backs of his thighs rested on his calves,changing your angle slightly, and it it made all the difference. You gently tugged, pulling your joined hands away from his torso, building a rhythm by following his lead and letting him guide you. He turned his face slightly, still looking down. “Thought about you.” He spoke, fighting to get the words out. “Always ‘magined you touchin’ me like this.” He groaned your name, bringing his free hand back to your head, fingers tangling in your hair, the elastic loose. “Feels so damn…” He groaned again, flexing his fingers around yours and hissing at the change in pressure. “So much better.” 

 Ryan groaned again and turned his head back, smashing his lips against yours in an almost predatory kiss, letting emotion take over. As he kissed you, biting at your lips and using his hand to angle your head, you kept moving your hand, the pad of your thumb rubbing over his tip, spreading the gathered moisture there as your hand traveled up and down, wrist twisting every now and then for a change of pace. Ryan’s tongue slipped into your mouth at the same moment his hand pulled away from yours, and it was your turn to cry out as you felt it make contact with the area between your legs where his tongue had previously been, a long finger pushing its way inside of you as his thumb rubbed against the still swollen bundle of nerves. Left hand. It’s his left hand, I… You cried out again, hips jerking toward him as each of you continued what you were doing and Ryan added another finger, your hands moving between your bodies as your lips locked above them. 

 The kiss turned even sloppier as your movements changed, and you realized that if you continued, one or both of you were likely to come before you’d had a chance to feel him inside you. Not the first time, it needs to be... He needs… But like he could read your thoughts, Ryan pumped his fingers inside of you twice more and then withdrew them, pulling his lips from yours as well and taking a long shaky breath, steadying himself. “Lay down.” You did as he asked, Ryan pausing long enough to remove his pants and pull your shorts off completely before he stretched his body out, one knee bent slightly for balance as he knelt over you. “I’ve waited for this,” he said, eyes on yours. “For a year.” You nodded, hand moving up to touch his hair. “A fuckin’ year.” I know, Ryan. Me too.  Leaning down, he kissed you again - deep and long and slow, the kiss that he’d been withholding until that moment. You felt him give himself over to you in it, and you responded in kind, not holding anything back. Why would I? 

 Breaking away, Ryan took a shuddering breath, a small smile on his lips. He groped above your head with one hand, eyes flicking up and you heard the crinkling sound of a condom packet between his fingers, seeing the gleam of it in the low light as he tore it open. ���I love you.” 

 “Love you too, Ry.” Your heart pounding, you waited a moment as he removed the rubber from the packet, straightening up and rolling it on without pause. You watched as he stroked himself, dark eyes on you, tongue poking out between his teeth. I wanna touch him. You looked at Ryan in the low light, the reflections from the pool casting shadows across his body - rippling stripes of darkness against the pale skin, and you felt your heart swell. He’s mine. You reached out with one hand and Ryan moved quickly, leaning back down and dropping his hand from his body, using it to prop himself up above you. “Ryan.” You murmured his name against his lips, kissing him, and you felt him scrunch his nose, upper lip lifting slightly. “Ryan, I…” He nodded, lips pressing against yours once more before you felt him rock his hips against you, somehow seeming more solid than he had felt only a few minutes before in your hand. 

 You unconsciously lifted your hips to meet his, right leg hooking around Ryan’s left thigh. He took a deep breath, pressing his forehead against yours again, some of his hair the only barrier between your skin, and before you’d had a chance to react, you felt him pressing against your entrance, pausing only for a second before he thrust his hips, a few inches of his length sinking into you. The feeling of it was unexpected even though you’d been waiting, and you gasped at the sensation, Ryan sucking in a breath as your hands left the blankets and moved to his sides, fingers digging into his skin. He pulled his hips back and then forward again, slowly entering you all the way and you couldn’t help your body’s reaction, flexing toward him until he was in as deep as the angle would allow. 

 Ryan said your name once, giving himself a second to adjust and then he thrust his hips again, moving within you. Ryan’s forehead slipped away from yours and with a low growl, he dropped his lips to your shoulder, closing his teeth around the skin hard - causing you to cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Without lessening the grip of is teeth on your skin, Ryan began to move his hips, gradually increasing the pace - and decreasing your limited ability to think straight with him on top of you. Oh, holy fuck. 

--- 

[something-tofightfor]

Just a Place - Part 7

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader

Word Count: 8900

Rating: M (language)

Summary: Thanksgiving and Christmas with Ryan Brenner - enough said.

** You will not understand a darn thing in this if you haven’t read “Neon Lights”, which can be found on my Masterlist page **

Author’s Note: Another long chapter to make up for it being a long time since I last updated... enjoy. 

Feel free to ask me to add you!

Tag list: @traeumerinwitzhelden @mfackenthal @songtoyou @obscurilicious @elanor-of-imladris @thesumofmychoices @suchatinyinfinity @audreychaz @benbarnestongue @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @the-blind-assassin-12 @ms-delos @lexxierave @dreams-with-thoughts @gollyderek @agentlingerie

POV - You 

 You pushed the cart through the crowded grocery store, trying to keep from blowing up at the people in your way. Yep, the middle of the aisle is the perfect place for your conversation. You rolled your eyes, turning the corner and slamming the brakes on to avoid running into a woman tugging her young child behind her by one hand. “Shit!” You said it quietly, but the woman still gave you a look and you returned it with a scowl, waiting until she’d disappeared down the aisle you’d just turned out of before continuing, scanning the path in front of you for a familiar tan coat. Get in, get out, get home. That’s what I said, and now… 

 Finally, you found Ryan standing in front of the canned vegetables, a frown of his own on his face. “What’s wrong, Ry?” He shook his head, turning to look at you. “We need corn, so…” 

 “My Ma used to make this… thing. She called it corn puddin’ when I was a kid, and I haven’t had it in years. But I don’t know the recipe.” Despite your annoyance at the crowded grocery store, you felt yourself smile, adjusting the cart so that it was right next to the shelves. “You don’t…”

 “Corn casserole?” You raised an eyebrow. “Ryan, that was a staple at my Thanksgiving dinners growing up. I can’t promise it’ll be exactly the same, but I can try.” His lips parted as he looked at you in surprise and you continued. “As long as you don’t mind regular corn, too, I have to have something to mix in with my potatoes and gravy.” He laughed, nodding. “We’ll need both kinds.” You looked at your list, chewing on your lip. “I’d say… six cans of creamed and five regular? I’ll make a double batch.” You paused as he reached for the cans, pulling one of the partially empty packing boxes off of the shelf and setting it down on the bottom of the cart before placing cans neatly into it. “And I guess an extra five cans of the regular, too, we’ll need it.” He nodded, counting silently, moving lips the only thing giving him away. 

 “We’re gonna have enough food for an army.” Though he said it in a joking manner, you didn’t dispute him - he was right. We kind of have to. “Alright, there we go.” He stood up straight, pointing. “Beans next?” You nodded, pulling the cart back a foot or so so that it was positioned beneath the picked-over green bean shelf space, stacking another twenty cans of those in the bottom of the cart. I’m going to be cooking for a week straight.  “Where now?” Ryan’s quiet voice cut into your thoughts and you blinked at him, thinking. 

 “Gotta go bet bacon and milk… butter…” You pressed your lips together, hands tightening on the handle of the cart. “Turkey’s already at the house thawing... “ 

 “Potatoes?” He grinned at you. “You said yesterday you needed your weight in mashed potatoes and stuffing.” You giggled at him and nodded. “Alright. Go.” He gestured toward the end of the aisle and you moved to turn the cart, groaning out loud as you had to stop yet again for a woman on her cell phone that was leaning on the handle of her cart, hip stuck out and blocking the entire aisle. “Hey.” Ryan reached out, touching your arm. “Let me push. You’re gonna kill someone.” I am. Gladly. You gestured to the handle of the cart and stepped aside, Ryan moving next to you and leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. “I love it when you’re annoyed at someone that’s not me.” Your lips again twitched into a small smile as he turned the cart smoothly, stopping just before the woman. “‘Scuse me, ma’am.” She looked up, her eyes widening as she saw Ryan. “Need to get past you.” Without pause, the woman stepped aside, her eyes never leaving Ryan’s face, teeth digging into her lower lip as her conversation stopped Figures. Typical. 

 Feeling slightly petty, you stepped next to him, linking your arm with his and smirking as you passed her. Ryan shook his head next to you but didn’t say anything, clearing his throat and stepping into the main aisle before turning toward the dairy section. “We need to make a stop in the beer aisle too, Ryan.” This time, he laughed, even as you dropped your arm from his and stepped in front of him, glancing over your shoulder. “It’s not Thanksgiving unless you get drunk while you’re cooking.” 

 An hour later, you were unpacking the groceries in your kitchen, Ryan arranging the cold foods in the second refrigerator while you carefully packed boxes and packages into the cupboards and cabinets to pull out as you needed them. “Hey.” He stepped back into the room, phone in his hand. “Matt wants to know if he can bring his girl, I know we didn’t -”

 “Of course.” You grinned, nodding. “So that’ll make what, nine plus us?” He thought for a few moments before agreeing. “Space will be tight for them all to stay, but we’ve got the couch, and some air mattresses, and…” 

 “That’s not a problem, none of us are used to… well.” He paused, eyeing you. “I’m used to our bed now, but a few nights on spare mattresses or couches? Not a big deal.” You felt yourself blushing but Ryan didn’t look away, instead moving closer to you without breaking eye contact. “I’m going to help you out as much as I can, but I’m not that great in the kitchen, so I don’t know how much I can do. I’d prob’ly be a bigger help out of here.” He tucked his phone into his pocket as he reached you, one arm circling your waist as he pulled you close, using the tattooed fingers of his other hand to tilt your face upward so that he could kiss you gently. “I love you.” You closed your eyes and kissed him back, reaching around to put your hands on his waist, thumbs slipping into his belt loops. 

 “Love you too,” you murmured as you pulled away, shaking your head. “But that doesn’t mean that you won’t be the one opening all of those cans.” He laughed as he turned away from you, heading back into the living room. “I’m serious, Brenner.” 

 “I know.” 

 --- 

 You stood in front of the stove, stirring a pan full of gravy and humming to yourself as Ryan and his friends gathered in the living room. Your guests had started trickling in two days prior, but that afternoon, there were people in every room. Jack and Matt and Matt’s girlfriend Brynn had been the first to arrive, followed by Chris and Jameson from Seattle later that evening and two young men that were barely in their twenties named Charlie and Thomas that Ryan had met in Chicago. David and Lauren were there too, accepting the invitation that Ryan had offered them without pause as both of their families lived out of state. Though you’d been determined to cook everything from scratch, the other woman had offered to bring dessert in the form of pies and a pan of the lemon bars that Ryan had sworn to you were good enough to make him forget his own name, though he’d never been able to hold off on eating long enough to get one home to you so that you could find out for yourself. Saves me hours. I’m not complaining. 

 For the first time since you’d moved in, the house was full - and though none of them were your friends, you felt as close to home as you had in years, hearing the sounds of assorted instruments and voices carrying through the archway into the kitchen - making the house feel almost alive. And we’re only here for a few more months anyway. You’d extended the lease on the house to the end of March, but hadn’t wanted to delay the process of moving any more than that, because you wanted to be closer to the west coast by the time that your exhibit opened. Ryan had agreed eagerly, excited to see more of the country and to reconnect with more friends. 

 He’d explained what he was trying to do with his music to Matt and Jack, and the three of them had started to brainstorm, locked in the spare room playing and listening to old recordings while you and Brynn had lounged on the couch, the girl enjoying the fact that she could relax for a few days in total comfort. She’d been a huge help in the kitchen, cutting down your prep time by a lot, but true to your threat, Ryan had spent more than an hour opening cans and helping you peel potatoes that morning while everyone else took turns showering. “Hey.” Glancing back in the direction of the living room, you saw Ryan standing just inside the doorway, a wide smile on his face. “Smells amazin’.” Good. 

 You motioned him over, sticking a spoon into the gravy and then holding it out to him to taste. “Well?” Ryan’s eyes closed, tongue moving over his lips. 

 “Perfect.” He shook his head, opening his eyes again and reaching out to take the spoon from your hand before placing it in the sink. “You should taste it, too.” The next thing you knew, Ryan was kissing you, his hand in your hair as he held you close. You sighed into him, using both hands to grip his shirt and pull him closer. “Told you.” He licked his lips as he pulled back, eyes still half closed and a lazy smile on his face. “I can’t believe you got all this done, and it’s all gonna be ready at the same time.” He kissed you again. “It’s impressive.” 

 “Thank you, Ry.” You finally let him go, reaching up to place a palm on his chest. “It’s going to be ready in about fifteen minutes, if you want to let everyone know.” He nodded, not taking his eyes off of you. “What?” Ryan looked at you carefully, unsure of what to say for a moment. 

 “I just…” He shook his head, hand resting on your hip. “These are my friends, not yours, and your house is full of ‘em, and… I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” He stopped. “To deserve you.” 

 “You promised me Christmas, Ryan Brenner.” You fought back a lump in your throat, hand sliding up to his neck and then the side of his head, stroking your fingers through his hair. “Just you and me and a tree. And this isn’t my house, it’s ours. So…” With a single nod of his head, Ryan agreed, lips finding yours again briefly. 

 The sound of someone clearing their throat jolted you away from him, but Ryan still didn’t remove his hand from you as both of you turned to look at the doorway where Charlie was standing with Lauren. “Can we help get stuff to the table?” With a squeeze to your hip, Ryan stepped away from you and toward the pair, gesturing back in your direction. Without pause, Lauren and Charlie moved toward you, waiting for your instructions. 

 “Alright, so we just need to start carrying this out to the table. There are pot

holders on the counter and…” 

 --- 

 Later that night, you and Ryan were lying in bed, him on his back and you on your side right up against him while your fingers traced over the tattoo on his ribs, your eyelids heavy. “What you did tonight…” Ryan started, his voice quiet. “What you did for all those people this week? All of my friends?” His hand was resting on your bare hip, fingers gently pressed into the flesh as he spoke. “These holidays aren’t always easy when you live like we… like they do.” He still sees himself… “You gave ‘em a place to feel at home, somewhere they felt…”

 “They’re your family, Ryan.” You kissed his shoulder, thinking. “Not by blood, but… they mean just as much to you as an actual relative would.” He was quiet, and from outside of the closed door you heard Brynn’s laugh from the room across the hall. “I -”

 “You’re my family, too.” His words were quiet and you didn’t hear any hesitation in them, but they still made your breath catch in disbelief. What? “You know that, right?” He shifted onto his side, rolling toward you. Even in the dark of the room, you could see his eyes, the furrow of his brow. “You’re family now. Have been for... “ He paused. “Since before I found you again.” You could feel your own heart pounding, mind working overtime to process his words. “I know you have your aunt, but…”

 “You’re… shit, Ryan.” You felt tears running down your cheeks and Ryan’s hand quickly moved up to wipe them away, fingers lingering on your skin. “I never thought that I’d have this again, and especially not with someone like you, not after my parents...” He leaned in, kissing you on the forehead before pressing his lips against yours, breath hitting your face as he exhaled. His hand had dropped to the side of your neck, thumb moving slowly back and forth on the skin just beneath your jaw. You didn’t know what else to say to Ryan in return; didn’t know how to tell him that he was the only family you’d ever need, that he made you feel safe and loved and important, that you didn’t want anyone else, that you likely never would. He has to know, he has to understand. “I love you so much, Ryan.” Your voice was thick with tears and you felt him nod slowly, hand still against your neck.

 “I know you do.” He sighed, shifting his hips as you tightened your hold on his side. “You don’t gotta tell me that, because -”

 “But I do, because…” You stopped, waiting. “Because you need to hear it.” Swallowing, you lifted your head, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, lips finding the skin above his beard. “I had my parents growing up, and my aunt and uncle, and that was it. No cousins, no siblings no… no grandparents.” You looked down at Ryan, hand still pressed flat against his ribs, the inner part of his bicep resting against the back of your hand. “When I lost my parents, it felt like I lost everything, Ryan. I was numb, I was… I just threw myself back into work and ignored everything that I could. I ignored the trial, ignored my aunt, ignored the feelings that I knew I was supposed to be having.” 

 “Come here.” Ryan’s hand slid down your side, pulling you closer and without hesitation, you lowered yourself back onto him, feeling his other arm circling you as he pulled you to his chest. “Keep talkin’.” You waited a few seconds, concentrating on his hand - the rough fingers moving against the middle of your back and calming you, and then you continued. 

 “I knew I’d have to deal with it eventually, but it was like… the house was  paid off - and as long as I paid the monthly bills and all that, I could keep from having to go back there, keep from having to deal with it.” You sighed, feeling the tears coming again. “Running from stuff isn’t the answer, but how else do you deal with…” He kissed the top of your head, muttering the words ‘I know’ as you hitched a leg over his, wanting to get closer to him. “And then I met you, and I was just… happy for those few days in Vegas. You came out of nowhere, and I felt a connection to you, Ryan, and even though it was just a short time, just those few hours spent with you… I felt like myself again. You did that for me.” What are you even getting at? 

 “When I was with Jackie, I didn’t feel like myself.” He paused. “Not the whole time, anyway. When she was praisin’ me for my talent or encouraging me, I felt like a lot of things were right, but…” Ryan stopped speaking, the room silent. “It got a little better when I left Utah, but the more I thought, the more I realized that even before Utah, somethin’ was off, somethin’ wasn’t … I wasn’t me.” Ryan stopped speaking, and you relaxed, ears trained on the rest of the house, listening for noises that any of your guests might have made. “I went to Vegas by chance, did I ever tell you that?”

 “You didn’t.” Ryan tightened his grip on you, laughing quietly. 

 “Stopped in Phoenix because it was too damn hot to be on the trains and met a girl in a coffee shop.” He cleared his throat. “She worked there, traded me a muffin and a refill to hear a song, and playin’ with her and hearing her sing… it woke me up.” You heard his voice change slightly as he remembered this woman, but before you could dwell on it, he continued. “She mentioned that Vegas would be a good place for me to play, said that she and her fiance had been there a few months prior, that she thought I’d do well out there…” Ryan sighed. “And so I went from Phoenix to Vegas and the rest… you know.” 

 “So you’d never even thought of it before?” He replied with a no, followed with a short laugh. “So you’re telling me that without the recommendation of some random person in Phoenix, we’d never have met? You’d never have… we’d never have this?” Ryan was quiet for nearly a minute, and you opened your mouth to speak when he beat you to it. 

 “You know, I’m not sure.” Ryan sighed. “I think about that a lot - think about meetin’ you and what it… how it happened.” Ryan’s hand slid down your back and to your waist, fingers still moving in slow circles. “I still would have ended up in Colorado and Seattle, still would have gone to Chicago and to St. Louis… you had nothin’ to do with me gettin’ hurt… so I think, honestly, that we still could have met in that park in Philadelphia.” You do? But… 

 “But I only went home because of you, Ryan.” Your voice was quiet, thoughts jumbled. “I never would have…”

 “You woulda. Eventually. Things happen and we can’t explain ‘em, but I feel like we were supposed to meet. And if it hadn’t been in Vegas, it would have been…” He sighed. “Somewhere.” Ryan’s grip on you tightened again. “I refuse to believe that there’s any chance we missed each other or missed this.” He said your name, the intent clear. “But it doesn’t matter, because we met in Vegas and we’re here now, and we’re never gonna…” You cut him off as you turned your head to kiss him hard on the mouth, catching him by surprise. You didn’t believe in fate, didn’t believe in things being destined to happen - but you weren’t going to question or doubt Ryan’s presence in your life or what you meant to each other - why would you? 

 Though still full from dinner and extraordinarily tired, you felt your body moving before you’d thought it through, right knee supporting your weight as you swung your left leg over Ryan’s hips, straddling his waist.  You hadn’t bothered to put pajamas on before sliding into bed next to him, and Ryan’s eyes opened fully as he stared up at you, hands resting on your waist and your palms flat on his stomach. He was smiling - that tiny smirk that you loved so much present on his lips, and you returned the expression, nails scratching into the dark hair below his navel as you curled your fingers, causing him to groan quietly. “No.” You shook your head, winking down at him. “We’re never going miss each other like that again.” 

--- 

 POV: Ryan 

 “You wanted to see me, David?” Ryan stood in the man’s tiny office, one hand on the back of his neck, the other stuffed into the pocket of his jacket. “I just finished up at the site, and stopped back to -”

 “Come in, Ryan.” David had a small stack of papers on the desk in front of him, but he gestured to the chair across from his seat, a smile on his face. “Everything go alright? I know all you had to do today was finish with the drywall.” Ryan took a seat, nodding but confused about what the meeting was for. He’d had no problems, no issues on the job or with David - or any of the other contractors he’d worked with since accepting the position, but David hadn’t ever wanted a meeting like this with him before. Things were fine last week at Thanksgiving, what… “I just wanted to talk with you about something.” He’s firing me. What did I do?

 “What’s going on, David? The drywall went fine, I may have to go back tomorrow and touch the mudding up, but -”

 “No, Ryan. I know it’s fine, that’s not…” David shook his head. “I wanted to talk to you about something because you’re the most… competent guy I have on the crew.” Ryan relaxed slightly, leaning back in his chair and waiting. Ok, so maybe I’m not getting fired. “I bought a house.” Ryan’s eyes widened, a smile spreading over his face. “Not for me and Lauren, but… to flip.” Oh, shit. “Here, take a look at this.” David slid some of the papers across the desk to Ryan, continuing. “These are pictures of the inside, tell me what needs to be done.” Ryan picked up each piece of paper, studying them carefully. 

 “Well, the flooring needs to be repaired or replaced, depending on what you want done with this room,” he said pointing at one of the images. “The walls need some patches, and the ceiling in this room… a bedroom, maybe? Looks like it’s leaking, so the roof would need to be checked, and maybe the pipes, if this is on the lower floor…” Ryan continued for a few minutes, pointing out kitchen counters and tiles, the worn carpet, a basement that needed to have electrical lines re-run and the front porch, which needed some brickwork until David stopped him. 

 “You caught things I didn’t even see, Ryan, and these are only pictures.” Ryan took a breath, waiting. “I wanted to bring you in here because I want you to lead this project for me.” His eyes widened and Ryan sat up straighter, listening. “That means you’d be giving instructions to the other guys, making decisions about supply orders, overseeing things as well as getting your hands on experience.” David took a deep breath. “I know you guys will be leaving sometime in March, and while I’m not happy to be losing you, you’ve done more for me in these last five months than a lot of the guys that I’ve been working with for years, and I want to help you out.”

 “You want me to lead a… I’ve never done anythin’ like this before.” David shook his head, pointing to the images. 

 “You have, though. This is a lot of small projects at once instead of a big one alone. Lauren and I have wanted to get in on this for a while, and the opportunity came up, so I jumped on it. She’s going to be in charge of the design aspects, but you’re going to be the one that decides what needs to be done construction wise, you’ll have the entire budget to work with.” Ryan’s heart was pounding, but he felt himself nodding, eyes moving back to the papers in front of him. “So it’s more responsibility, but that also means more pay.” His eyes flicked upward to David’s, and Ryan remained silent. “You’ll get a bumped hourly wage, and then when the house sells, a portion of the sale price.”

 “Why? Why would you -” David cut him off, holding up a finger. 

 “This flip shouldn’t take longer than two months, tops. This one’s not that difficult, and I’ll be workin’ with you since you don’t know all of the permit laws and everything, but -” David slid another paper over to Ryan, who stared down at it quietly. “You’ll get a portion of the sale of the house, because when this one’s done, as soon as it sells, I plan on moving right into a second flip and I figured you’d want to invest in it with me and make some real money when that one sells.” David shrugged. “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a partner, Ryan. I trust you, and know you’re a hard worker. This is going to happen, and it’s going to happen how we want it to.” 

 “I’ll need to talk to -” David nodded, a smile on his face. “I’m definitely interested in takin’ lead on this one, but for the next one, and investin’, I can’t just…”

 “I figured as much, and that’s fine.” David shrugged. “Second house won’t even be up for sale until the new year, so you’ve got plenty of time.” David raised an eyebrow. “Hell, we might find that we’ve bitten off more than we can chew and not want to worry about a second house, but I doubt it.” Ryan laughed and David did too, shaking his head back and forth. “We’ll start working on this one late next week; you should only have what, two more days on the current project?” Ryan shook his head. 

 “I should be able to finish most of it tomorrow, sanding and painting are all that’s left, but if I have to mud anything else…” David’s head moved up and down slowly, and Ryan couldn’t stop himself from asking a question. “Why me? You don’t know me, and you -”

 “I know enough, Ryan. I see how hard you work, how much you care about what you do, and I want to help you out, because like I said, I know I won’t have you here forever.” Ryan stood again, reaching a hand out to shake one of David’s, still in disbelief. “We’ll talk more about this next week, but like I said, we’re already working on picking out colors and wood and all that, so we’re rolling.” Ryan paused on his way out of the office, turning to look back at David. 

 “Thank you, David.” He swallowed, giving the other man a curt nod. “I won’t disappoint you.” 

 --- 

 He’d told you the good news later that night, your excited squeal more than enough to alleviate some of the worry from his mind. You’d jumped up from the dinner table to hug him tightly, arms around his neck as you kissed his cheek. “That’s a big deal, Ryan! This is like… your project. You get to tell people what to do, and to …”

 “Hey.” He couldn’t keep the smile off of his face, but Ryan shook his head. “I’m not going to boss anyone around, I’m just…”

 “I know Ry, but he’s basically letting you take over on this, you’ll be responsible for how it all turns out and comes together, and what needs to be…” You pulled away from him, settling back into your chair. 

 “What if I screw up?” He was playing with his fork, hair hanging over his eye as he stared down at his plate. “What if I don’t make the right call or don’t order enough of something, or… I never learned this, never went to school, or -”

 “Ryan, you did learn it, though. You’ve been doing construction for years, picked up so much from your friends and coworkers. You can do this, and you will. Will you screw up? Probably, but it’s fine, it’s going to happen.” He watched you, eyes focused on your face. “You’ve got to learn somehow, and this is perfect.” You chewed on your lip. “David’s going to teach you what he knows, and then you can… I don’t know, use it wherever we go?” He nodded. “And Ryan, you actually investing in the next house he buys? That’s perfect. Gives you more incentive to work harder.” You reached out, hand finding his. “That’ll give you a cushion, Ryan. Give you freedom, and a chance to -”

 “I’ll be able to pay you back for this place and for the next place, too.” He swallowed, determined. “You won’t be the only one providin’ for us when we pick somewhere else to live.” He watched as your expression changed, a small frown on your lips. “That’s important to me.” You sighed but nodded, returning to your plate and your food. I know you can afford it, but you shouldn’t have to. It was quiet in the dining room for a few minutes, both of you eating, and Ryan decided to change the subject. “So what do you want for Christmas?” 

 --- 

 The weeks between Thanksgving and Christmas passed quickly - Ryan working tirelessly on the house project with David and the rest of his team, and though it was hard work - demanding and precise, Ryan found that he enjoyed it. He learned more about electrical work from David himself, got tips about flooring and laying tile from Andrew, and even learned some things about decorating from Lauren, whose enthusiasm about the project carried over to the rest of the men. Ryan was surprised at the confidence he felt as each day passed, and was pleased with the progress that had been made on the home’s interior, even though much of it had yet to be completed.

 David made sure that Ryan still got away from the project early enough a few nights a week to play out and to make it to his lessons, but two of the students had gone on vacation over their break from school, leaving him with only one to teach for most of December. His playing hadn’t suffered, despite his long hours at work - in fact, Ryan was almost more focused on it as the time passed, returning to writing original music as he planned out a short list of people that he wanted to reach out to and see about playing with as the two of you traveled. 

 You were understanding of his constantly changing schedule; though you’d told him that you missed him being there when you woke up in the morning, you never complained about him leaving early for work, never chastised him for tracking sawdust through the house or forgetting to put dishes in the sink because he’d left them on the table next to the couch. You understood how hard he was working, simply asking if there was anything you could do to help - and he appreciated it more than he could say to you, so he tried to show you instead. 

 He knew that you didn’t need grand gestures or declarations of love from him, so Ryan would find small ways to make you smile - leaving your mug next to the coffee maker in the morning, thumbing the thermostat up a degree or two before he left so that when you woke, the house wouldn’t be too cold, stopping on the way home to rent a movie for you to watch because you’d mentioned that you wanted to see it, even if you only made it through half of the movie before one (or both) of you developed a case of wandering hands. Before you, he’d had a very specific idea of what a relationship - what staying would be like, and while he didn’t know if things would have been the same with someone else, he was almost certain that they wouldn’t have been. And I’m glad. The bottom line was that while Ryan appreciated everything about you, it went deeper than that - and both of you knew it. 

 “Hey.” He stopped in the doorway of the office, where you were scrolling through images on the computer and sorting through them as you chose for your next show. “Do you have a minute?” You sighed, hand dropping away from the mouse as you swiveled the chair around to face him. 

 “Yeah, Ry. What’s up?” He knew that you were stressing - that you wanted to include some of the same images from before, but also were worried that you didn’t have enough new choices to make for a cohesive display. She needs a break. “I think I’ve got the first 60 narrowed down, so…”

 “Get dressed.” He watched as you paused, biting the inside of your cheek. “Come on, I’m gonna take you out for dinner.” He had the night off - no lesson, no gig, no extra work for David, and he knew that you’d never turn down the opportunity to spend time with him. “And then,” he said as he stepped toward you, extending his hand. “Then we’re going to buy a Christmas tree.” The look on your face was one of shock and happiness, and you gripped his fingers tightly, nearly bouncing to your feet. “Yeah?” 

 “Ryan, I haven’t had a tree in …”

 “I haven’t had a real tree in over a decade,” he replied as he leaned forward to kiss you on the temple. “So I’ve got you beat.” You laughed at him but dropped his hand to hurry from the room, computer and images forgotten as you got dressed in boots and a coat, making your way into the living room before he’d even finished tying his laces. “Mexican alright? We haven’t been to 3 Matadors in a long time.” You nodded, grabbing your purse, but Ryan’s hand closed over yours, head shaking back and forth. “You can bring it with you, but you’re not payin’ for anything.” Don’t argue with me. You didn’t, your hand reaching over to push the hair back from his eyes as you stared at him, a smile on your lips. God, it feels good to be able to say that. 

 --- 

 An hour and a half later, both of you were full and happy, enjoying the rare date night out as you searched for a parking spot near one of the lots that was close to your house. “In a Chick Fil A parking lot?” You wrinkled your nose, laughing. “They’ll put these tree lots anywhere.” Ryan shrugged, pulling the car into a vacant spot and putting it into park. 

 “We’re ten miles from the ocean, can’t expect snow and fields of trees where you can cut them down yourself, right?” You shook your head, opening your door, and by the time Ryan had joined you at the back end of your car, you were already grinning. “Ready?” You nodded quickly, taking his hand and pulling him toward the trees and the people milling around without speaking again. Here we go. 

 You searched the lot for almost half an hour, Ryan following you around as you made your way from tree to tree, eyes lighting up as you found one that you thought was good, only to turn it and see a bare spot, or have him pull it toward him to find that it was crooked. “It’s gotta be right, Ryan.” He heard the anxiety creeping into your voice and so he finally stepped forward after waiting for two kids to move past, chasing each other down the corridor between rows of trees. 

 “Hey!” You turned at the sound of his voice, one of his hands reaching up to settle on your shoulder as he pulled you closer before the two of you continued to walk. “You almost…” he pointed down, where there was a large muddy area near your feet. “Watch out.” Both of you stepped over the spot, moving in unison. “Don’t worry, we’ll find one.” He kissed the top of your head, feeling as you settled in against him. “This was supposed to be fun for you, not…” He stopped as his eyes fell on a tree a few feet away, moving quickly from top to bottom. That one. He nudged you, noticing that you were looking in the opposite direction. “Look.” Ryan’s hand rose, the fingers on his left hand extended toward the tree. “What about that one?” 

 “Oh.” He heard your voice catch, feeling as you stepped away from him. “I…” He followed you, the sounds of the other people in the lot fading as you touched the branches, fingers skimming over the individual needles. He followed suit, inhaling deeply as he inched his face closer to the tree, his mind going back to the prior holidays that he’d shared with his mother - specifically the ones between losing his father and his mother meeting Thomas, which were some of his earliest memories. The tree was in the corner, right by the stairs. “Do you like this one, Ryan?” 

 “Yeah.” Ryan licked his lips, rubbing at his eyebrows for long moments. “I think it’s a good one.” He looked down at you, dropping his hand to his side and cocking his head to the left. “You?” Your eyes went back to the tree, shoulders rising as you took a deep breath. 

 “Yes.” You looked up at him, smiling. “This is it.” Telling you to wait while he went to get an employee, Ryan stepped away from you, still thinking about his mom, about his childhood, about the fact that ever since he’d met you, he’d started remembering random things - memories that he didn’t even know he still had, and that it felt natural. As he waited for the young man to cut a length of twine from a large spindle, Ryan glanced back at you, watching as you took a picture of the tree with your phone, quickly typing something out. This is where I’m supposed to be. 

 Fifteen minutes later, the two of you were back in the car, Ryan behind the wheel. “Let me try that?” He glanced over at you, watching as you paused with your straw only an inch or so from your mouth. “I got -”

 “If you wanted strawberry, Ryan, you should have gotten it.” You glanced at him without turning your head, and Ryan felt himself grinning. “Here.” He pulled out from the parking lot, turning back toward your house as you held the straw up to his lips. He closed them around it, sucking gently and taking a large mouthful of the milkshake. “Good, right?” 

 “Sure is.” Ryan swallowed, pointing at his own cup, which was settled between the two of you and you handed it to him. “But it’s almost Christmas, I had to get the cookie one.” The two of you laughed before settling into a comfortable silence as he drove through the traffic, finally pulling into your driveway a little before 8:30. 

 “Ryan?” He turned to look at you as he put the car in park, noticing that your eyes were focused on his face. “Thank you. I needed tonight.” I know. Ryan moved without thinking, leaning over the console to pull you into a kiss that lasted for a long time, neither of you wanting to pull away. “Love you, Brenner.” 

 “I know.” He winked at you, settling back into his seat before turning his head to look at you. “Not as much as I love you, though.” Even in the low light, Ryan could tell that your face was reddening, warmth spreading upward from your chest to your cheeks. Good. 

 --- 

 You decorated the tree together over the course of the next few days, setting it up in the stand the first night, allowing the branches to settle, adding in lights the following day and ornaments - a small box that you’d brought with you from Pennsylvania, others that you’d purchased from Target and Walmart after that. It wasn’t uncommon for one or both of you to come into the house and add something personal to the tree’s branches - You hung a small framed image of the two of you one afternoon, and Ryan, getting into the spirit of the holiday surreptitiously looped a broken guitar string around one of the branches after twisting it into a circle. You laughed when you saw it - but not unkindly, your eyes shining. “I should have thought of that, Ryan.”  But it was the final ornament that he hung on the tree that truly caught your attention, you calling Ryan into the living room after you’d made it home from photographing the lights and trees at a local display one night. “Ryan, what’s…”

 “Oh.” He stepped up behind you, winding his arms around your shoulders and pulling you close. “That?” He shrugged, feeling you lean backwards into his body. “That’s just something that I’ve been carryin’ around in my wallet for a year and a half.” You stepped away from him and Ryan let you go, watching as you pulled the ornament from the tree, turning it over in your fingers. “It’s -”

 “My room key.” You brought your gaze back up to his face, and Ryan saw that there were tears in your eyes. “The one I gave you the day that you went to do laundry and tried to leave.” Yeah, that’s the one. He nodded once. “You kept it? All this time?”

 “I did.”He swallowed, reaching up to run his hand through his hair. “Even when I couldn’t keep anythin’ big, I always took small stuff - a guitar pick from someone I played with, a matchbook, a receipt. Always lost ‘em though, after a while.” Ryan felt his tongue poking through his teeth and between his lips as he thought, mind far away. “That’s been behind my license since the mornin’ you - we - checked out of that hotel, and I thought it’d be perfect on our first Christmas tr-” You cut him off as you launched yourself at him, the fingers of one hand curled around the thin piece of plastic as your arm wrapped around his neck. “I love you, Ryan.” You spoke even as you kissed him, lips hungrily pressed against his. “I don’t know how I -” I don’t either.

 “Yeah.” He kissed you back, the fingers of both hands digging into your lower back. “We’re both lucky.” Real lucky. He moved his lips from your mouth to your neck, sucking gently on the skin as he kissed it. “Put that back on the tree and lets go to bed, alright?” Once you’d replaced the key on the branch, you turned back to Ryan, holding your hand out and waiting as he grasped it tightly, pulling you close to his chest again. “I don’t need to carry it with me anymore.” 

 “Oh yeah?” You smiled up at him, Ryan using his other hand to tuck hair behind your ear. “Why’s that?”

 “I’ve got the real thing right in front of me.” He watched the expression on your face change, a slew of emotions passing through your eyes before surprise won out. “Real’s so much better.” You nodded, eyes closing as you turned your cheek toward his chest, leaning in. So much better. 

  Five days later, on Christmas morning, you and Ryan woke up late, walking into the living room hand in hand. The tree was lit, and though there was no snow on the ground, it felt like Christmas to him, Ryan reclining on the couch while you cooked breakfast for the two of you. His eyes moved over the room - comfortable, cozy, filled with a collection of things that belonged to the two of you - before landing on the tree. There were only two presents beneath it; he’d opened the microphones almost as soon as you’d purchased them for him, and so the wrapped gifts were both for you - from Ryan. Hope she likes ‘em. He pulled his phone out, opening Instagram and scrolling through it idly as the smell of bacon wafted to his nose, you moving easily through the kitchen and humming to yourself quietly. Checking his messages out of habit, his finger froze over the screen as he saw one that he’d missed from over a week ago. Not today. Close the app. “Ry?” 

 He heard your voice and tore his eyes away from the screen, looking up at you. “Breakfast ready?” Swallowing, Ryan sat up and swung his feet to the floor, standing up. “I’m starvin’. And then you can open your -”

 “What’s wrong, Ryan?” You shook your head, stopping him from getting to the table. “I know that look.” I have to tell her. 

 “I…” He paused, deciding that he needed to get it over with. “I missed a message from last week on Instagram, and I just saw it now, and…” He stepped closer to you, unlocking the phone and opening the app again, holding it out to you. “It’s from Lia.” You took a deep breath, nodding once. “I can delete it, I -”

 “No.” You shook your head. “Read it, Ryan. It can’t be…” You rose onto your toes, kissing his cheek and Ryan felt lighter immediately. She’s not upset. “She must have something important to tell ya.” Ryan walked into the kitchen, sitting down in front of his plate, eyes still on his phone. Alright, here we go. Clicking on the message, Ryan’s eyes scanned it quickly, breath catching. Hey, Ryan. Just wanted to let you know that I’m still taking real good care of your guitar. Played it at Mom’s wedding, and I thought you’d wanna see how much better I got. I don’t know if you’ll watch this, but if you do, you don’t have to say anything back. You look happy in your videos, and I hope you are. You deserve it, Ryan. 

 There was a video attached, and Ryan waited to open it, thinking. It sounded like Lia - or at least like he imagined she’d sound nearly two and a half years after the last time he’d seen her. She wasn’t asking for information about him, and it didn’t seem like she’d been told to send the message, but…She’s a kid, just watch it. “She sent me a video.” Ryan looked up, seeing that you were sitting in your own chair, watching him. “Of her playin’ my guitar… well, her guitar now, but…” He sighed. “At Jackie’s weddin’.” You didn’t look surprised at the news that the woman had gotten married after all, and Ryan realized that you already knew - that you’d likely looked it up to see for yourself whether or not it had happened, or you’d need to expect the woman showing up in Charleston to see him. And she didn’t say anything. “I’m… gonna watch it, if you want to come over here an’ watch it with me.” 

 You were up and out of your seat before he’d stopped speaking, and Ryan pushed back from the table, gesturing to his lap. You settled in, Ryan’s arms going around you as he raised his phone before pressing play on the video. It was a short one - less than a minute long, but he was pleased - and proud - to see that Lia had improved. Her playing wasn’t perfect, but she was into it, focused on the strings and the words she was singing. He felt himself smile as he watched the clip, eyes locked on the blonde girl on his screen. Though he’d expected the video to cut to Jackie and her new husband before it ended, it didn’t, instead cutting out just as the final notes died away, Lia’s face breaking into a grin. Good for her. “She’s good, Ryan. Looks like she’s taking good care of your guitar.” 

 “Yeah, she was a good kid. I’m proud of-” He stopped, still looking down at his phone. “I’m proud of her.” And he was, he realized, proud of the way that Lia had stuck with playing and singing, had stuck with caring for the instrument that had gotten him through many years of busking. “I’ll respond, but not today.” He darkened his screen, setting the phone down and kissing you on the shoulder, feeling a few strands of your hair beneath his lips. “Today’s about us, not…” 

 “That’s fine.” You stood, turning to face him, and Ryan looked up at you. “You and me and a tree, right?” He nodded, feeling himself smile. “Merry Christmas, Ryan.” Breakfast untouched, Ryan stood, hands moving to either side of your face as he cupped your jaw, overwhelmed with emotion. I said it before but I meant it - she’s everything.  “What are you doing, Brenner?” Ryan leaned in, rubbing his nose against yours before pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. “Ry -”

 “Merry Christmas.” He swallowed, lips moving over the skin of your face, trying to be mindful of his beard against all of the sensitive places. “This year… this year I don’t have to sing for you over the phone.” He closed his eyes, thinking about the prior Christmas, the way you’d both been too afraid to say anything except “I miss you” -nearly 900 miles apart. “I should have told you that I loved you last Christmas when I called you.” Ryan spoke quietly, rocking back and forth, feeling your hands on his waist. “I should have -”

 ‘No.” You moved your head from side to side, breath hitting his face as you spoke. “No, we weren’t… if you would have said it then, and then disappeared for five months…” You let out a breath with a shudder. “It would have killed me, Ryan.” He wasted no more time, turning his head slightly and using his hands to tilt your face upward. As you kissed, he dropped his hands, fingertips skimming down the front of you as you curved your body toward his. I should have. I should have done a lot differently. I - His thoughts were interrupted as he felt your hand slide beneath his shirt, nails raking across the skin of his back. 

 When you broke apart, both of you were breathless. “Let’s eat, Ryan. Food’s getting cold.” You swallowed and Ryan did too, trying to calm his heartbeat. “Then I can open my presents.” He laughed, his hands falling from your body as you stepped away from him and back to your chair, sitting and picking up your fork. Yeah, you can. Ryan sat too, watching as you ate, unable to keep the smile off of his face. You made small talk as you finished your breakfast, deciding that you’d go and see a movie in the afternoon and then get Chinese food for dinner, keeping things low-key on the holiday - your first Christmas together. Perfect. 

 The dishes cleared, you and Ryan made your way into the living room, where he paused to scoop up both gifts before he handed them to you. You opened them slowly, biting your lower lip as you ripped through the paper to expose the entirety of the first gift - a new bag for your camera, made from a waterproof material. “You just got that new lens and were compainin’ that you couldn’t fit everything in your old bag.” The grin on your face was as bright as he’d ever seen it before, and Ryan wanted to keep staring at it, but instead he reached over, tapping a long finger against the paper of the second, smaller package. “This one’s... “ He shook his head, hair falling over his eyes. “I -”

 “Shh.” You wrinkled your nose at him. “Lemme open my present.” With a laugh, he raised his hand in a placating gesture, watching as you tore the paper away. “Ryan, what’s this?” You looked back up at him, widening your eyes. “Your… passport?” He nodded as you changed positions on the couch, drawing your knees up beneath you when you turned to face him, grip tight on the blue object. “This is… what…”

 “So.” He licked his lips, reaching out to take the small booklet from your hands, opening it to look at the page with his picture on it. “I got this a few weeks ago, and I… I thought that maybe we could…” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. You live with her, Brenner. Why is this so hard? “Maybe we could plan a trip sometime next year, I’ve been savin’.” You gasped, his name falling from your lips in a whisper. “I thought that my first time out of the country should be somewhere -”

 “Yes.” You nodded enthusiastically, leaning in to throw your arms around his shoulders, pushing him backwards onto the couch so that you were laying on top of him. Ryan was immediately comforted by your weight, the booklet falling from his hand and onto the floor as he held you close. “Oh, Ryan. There are so many places that I’d love to show you, so much for you to see.” You tucked your forehead in against his neck, removing your right arm from around his neck and stroking his hair. He pushed the material of your shirt up, running his hands up and down your spine as the two of you talked quietly, discussing possible places to go and things to see. I don’t care where we go, as long as she’s... “Thank you, Ryan.” Your voice was quiet, and though you’d stretched out so that you were laying between Ryan and the back of the couch, he was unwilling to let you go. “This is the best Christmas I’ve had since I was a kid.”

 “Me too.” Ryan sniffed, feeling his eyelids getting heavy, the warmth of your skin against his and the familiar rise and fall of your chest lulling him back to sleep. “An’ it’s because we’re…” He trailed off, hearing your quiet agreement, and the last thought he had before drifting off was one that he’d never had before.

 I wanna spend the rest of my life with her. 

---

[something-tofightfor]

Just a Place - Part 6

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader

Word Count: 7300

Rating: M (language, zest light mention)

Summary: After Jackie’s phone call, you and Ryan move forward... what comes next?

** You will not understand a darn thing in this if you haven’t read “Neon Lights”, which can be found on my masterlist page **

Author’s Note: Sorry this took such a long time to get out... I made it a little longer than normal to make up for it. 

Feel free to ask me to add you!

Tag list: @traeumerinwitzhelden @mfackenthal @songtoyou @obscurilicious @elanor-of-imladris @thesumofmychoices @suchatinyinfinity @audreychaz @benbarnestongue @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @the-blind-assassin-12 @ms-delos @lexxierave @dreams-with-thoughts @gollyderek @agentlingerie

POV: Ryan 

 In the weeks following Jackie’s call, Ryan expected you to treat him differently, despite the (mostly) calm and collected way that you’d responded when he told you that he’s spoken with her. He made an effort to do more around the house - waking up early, even on his days off, cutting the grass, offering to cook dinner, constantly cleaning up after the two of you … but every time you found him busy, you surprised him by gently pulling him away from his task, shaking your head and wrapping your arms around him. “Ry, you don’t need to…” But he’d always shake his head, jaw set firmly. Yes, I do. He didn’t know why he felt guilty, or had the need to prove to you that he was staying, but he did, almost like he’d disrespected you by telling Jackie so much, by giving her insight into the way he’d spent the better part of a year and a half. It was none of her business. And so Ryan kept busy, made himself useful around the house, and waited for the feeling to pass, even though you seemed to get over it long before he did. 

 Your routines didn’t change; he worked with David throughout the week, played out at night, taught lessons (Ryan had three students, a boy and two girls, and all were improving), and spent his free time playing guitar. You, on the other hand had taken a few local jobs doing portrait sessions, and had left to go to Maine for four days, photographing the changing leaves, leaving Ryan at home at the beginning of October. He’d wanted to go with you, simply because he wanted to see the trees himself, but David hadn’t been able to give him the time off, and so Ryan spent the time alone focused on writing, his hands only leaving his guitar when he was eating, sleeping or working his day job. 

 He had enough material for an EP, enough songs to play almost an entire set of original music, and yet Ryan couldn’t stay away from the classics, couldn’t stop his fingers from picking out the songs he knew like the back of his hand, the words from tumbling out of his mouth. This shouldn’t be the case. It had gotten worse after you’d come home and found him singing in the kitchen while he cooked, and Ryan’s live sets had turned away from his original music and back toward the tried and true classics - which people still seemed to love.

 He hadn’t played Southbound since the night Jackie called, unwilling to let the memory of writing the song on Jackie’s front porch, or of sharing the unfinished lyrics with her taint the mood that he played in, and even though he missed it, it felt right to cut it. I’ll play it again, someday. But Ryan’s focus on playing the music that he loved navigated him through, leading him to an important realization: he wanted to record songs, but he wanted to record them out of a studio, with the people that they mattered to. 

 You were cleaning up after dinner with him about a week before Halloween, the two of you moving through the kitchen while a cold rain fell outside, splattering against the windows when Ryan finally opened his mouth to tell you his idea. “Hey.” You stopped what you were doing and Ryan watched as you wiped your wet hands on a towel before walking over to him, a smile on your face. 

 “Yeah?” You hopped up onto the table, crossing your legs. “What’s up, Ryan?” He stepped over to you after taking a breath, waiting. Why are you nervous? 

 “I’ve been thinkin’,” he started, tongue wetting his lips. “I… want to record some songs.” You widened your eyes, inhaling. “But… I don’t wanna record in a studio. I want…” He shook his head, feeling as you reached out, hand sliding down his forearm until you were gripping his fingers, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I’ve been writing.” He paused. “A lot.” You nodded, still silent, giving him a chance to get his thoughts out. “And there are things that I want to record on my own, and I want to have them, but it’s always… singin’ and playin’ with other people has always been what I’ve loved the most.” You nodded and Ryan continued. “We’re not stayin’ here forever, and I thought that… maybe on our way to wherever we’re goin’ next, we could… meet up with some of my friends so that I can…” He trailed off, suddenly feeling very self conscious, and Ryan attempted to pull his hand from yours. I… this is stupid. 

 “Do you want to record your own music, or do what Georgie wanted to do, and record older stuff?” You tilted your head to the side, genuine curiosity on your face. “Because, Ryan, I think that-”

 “Both.” He spoke without pause, chest rising and falling. “I want to record both.” But how? His friends were scattered throughout the country; some as far south as New Orleans, others all the way up in Michigan’s upper peninsula, even some right up against the ocean in Oregon and California. There’s no way to get them all. “Everyone’s got a different style, and I want to… I think I need to … it’s all going to sound different, do you understand?” You quietly waited, uncrossing your legs and Ryan stepped forward between them, lowering your joined hands to the surface of the table and raising his free one to grip the side of your neck, thumb tucked behind your ear. “I could record the same song with each one of them, and it would be different, even my playin’ and singin’, because…”

 “Because you’d be responding to the way that they perform.” He could feel you speaking beneath his palm and he nodded. She gets it. “Do you want to stop in a studio with all of them?” You frowned, but it wasn’t an unkind expression. “Wouldn’t booking time be hard unless you knew when you’d be there exactly?” Yeah, it would. 

 “Some of ‘em, yeah. Some of ‘em deserve to be in a studio, but… no. I think I’d want to record in a more… natural setting?” He slid his hand down to your shoulder, shaking his head. “It’s just a thought now, an idea, but…” Ryan closed his eyes. “It’s what I want to do.” He nodded. “I know we’ll be here until spring at least, but… when we go next, I can… we can…” 

 “We can figure it out, Ry.” You spoke quietly, pulling your hand from his and reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. “You’ve got time, you can plan something out.” You sighed and he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours and feeling you curl the tips of your fingers against the back of his head. “You don’t just have to show up and hope for the best.” He pulled away as he realized you were right, that it wasn’t about luck or the right timing anymore. “But if you need to go, Ryan, you can. I don’t want you to think that you need to stay here, to be here, to…”

 “No.” He shook his head. “No, planning is important. I can figure out where we can… what we can do on the way to wherever it is that you...we decide to go.” You tugged him down again and Ryan leaned into the kiss, feeling you sigh against him as his hand flattened against your back. “You wanna meet some of my friends?” He breathed the words, mouth hovering over your ear. “See a little bit of my past?” I want that. 

 “Yeah, Ryan.” You nodded, scooting forward and off of the table, standing before you wrapped your arms around him, cheek pressing against his chest. “If you want me to.” He encircled you with his arms, inhaling as he kissed the top of your head. “They all gonna hate me as much as Georgie did?” Despite the serious nature of the question, Ryan laughed, squeezing your body tightly. 

 “No, they won’t. They’re all different from him.” He stood there with you, sure of his words and even more sure of what he wanted to do. “Will you help me plan this out?” Pulling back to look up at him, you grinned, eyes bright. 

 “Of course, Ryan.” 

 --- 

POV: You 

 The beginning of November on the west coast was totally different than the beginning of November on the east coast, and while you liked living in South Carolina, you were happy to be in California - and even happier that Ryan had been able to come with you. “Hey!” He was waving his arm at you from a few yards away, a grin on his face. “I got a table.” As you walked closer, he sat, reaching out for the drink holder that you had in your hands. “Thank you.” You eased into your seat and bit your lower lip, looking past Ryan and out toward the water where hundreds of boats were docked. “What are you looking at?” He turned to look too, eyes moving over the masts and sails. “Have you ever been here before?” 

 “Once. I’ve been to a lot of coastal California cities, but San Francisco isn’t one of the ones that I’ve had the opportunity to explore.” You shrugged, pulling your hood up so that the back of your neck was covered. “We’ve got a few days now, though, and so…” He nodded and you smiled, reaching for your burger. “You seem excited.” Ryan nodded his head in agreement through a huge bite of hamburger, gesturing with his free hand. 

 “Never without my guitar, though.” He swallowed, taking a long drink through his straw. “Feels weird not to have it, but I needed a break.” I agree. Ryan had been playing feverishly for weeks, writing and recording music at an almost breakneck pace. He had hours of recordings saved on your laptop, and as an early Christmas present to him, you’d gotten him a nice studio microphone for his guitar and another for his vocals, and he’d splurged on an expensive pair of headphones. He’d used them more than you expected, sometimes closing himself in the office until late into the night and then crawling into bed with you, his voice hoarse from singing as he whispered goodnight and that he loved you, pulling you close to him. His hands… 

 Ryan’s fingers were all calloused and rough; a sign of the fact that he was no stranger to hard work - especially on his left hand. You could always tell which of his hands was touching you, and if you were being honest, you preferred the left - the roughened fingers pressing into your skin or rubbing against it, letting you know exactly where he was and what he wanted. Those fingers, no matter where on your body they were, set you on fire, waking you up whenever he touched you. The first night with him - in the sun porch of your parents’ home in Philadelphia - you hadn’t known what to expect when he finally let go of his self control, exploring your body with those hands, but you definitely hadn’t been disappointed. You’d never been touched like Ryan touched you, and you never wanted anyone else to do it again; you didn’t know how anyone could have let him walk out of their life - but you were thankful that so many had. 

 However, on this trip, two of Ryan’s fingertips were bandaged, the middle finger bandaged heavily. 

 Two nights before your flight, after midnight, you’d heard a loud thud as the door slammed, waking you. You found Ryan in the bathroom, his hand beneath a slow stream of water in the sink, head hanging down and eyes focused on his hand. “Ry?” You rubbed sleep from your eyes, blinking. “Everything OK?” His teeth were gritted, head shaking back and forth, and you saw a small amount of blood on the sink basin. “Ryan?” You were suddenly awake, hand reaching out to his wrist in panic.

 “Tore the calluses on two of my fingers.” He spoke matter of factly, looking down. “It’s happened before, and I knew it was comin’, but I didn’t want to stop playin’.” You watched him roll his eyes in the mirror. “Looks like I won’t be pickin’ up a guitar for a few days.” Letting out the breath that you’d been holding, you slipped an arm around his waist, leaning into him. 

 “It’s OK, Ry. You’ve got a week off of work, and we’re leaving for a few days, so…” You shrugged as his right arm lifted, wrapping around your shoulders. “It happened at a … good time?” He sighed. “You know what this means, hmm?” You looked up at him, waiting until his eyes were on you before continuing. “Means you get to take an actual vacation. No work, no playing, no… worrying. Just you and me and the ocean and -”

 “And you signing a contract for another show.” Ryan’s cheeks grew pink above his beard as he smiled at you, one eyebrow going up. “The most important thing, isn’t it?” I guess so. The staggering check that you’d received in the mail about a month after the end of the Philadelphia exhibit for show’s sales had floored you, and you couldn’t believe that someone else wanted to meet with you about repeating the process. Finally making contact with Lori’s friend Andrea had resulted in her inviting you to come out and meet with her at your convenience - another surprise. Ryan had urged you to go before the end of the year, and so you’d set up the trip for the end of the first week in November, Ryan surprising you when he told you that if you wanted him to go with you, he was available. “David’s taking a few days off to spend some time with his family, and so he’s giving me the time off, too.” 

 Ryan had planned on taking a guitar with him, but the injured fingers had changed those plans, and even though you knew it was strange for him to not have the instrument on his back, you could tell that he was enjoying the freedom. “What do you want to do tonight, Ryan?” As you finished eating, you looked at him from across the table, watching as the wind blew through the ends of his hair that stuck out from beneath his hat. “We’ll still have an hour or so to walk around here before I’m supposed to be at the gallery, so the rest of the night is…” You paused. The gallery you were going to was near Telegraph Hill, but your hotel was in the Haight-Ashbury area, because when you’d booked it, Ryan had been planning on playing with locals if he could. I don’t know if he’ll still want to… “We can still go to the Panhandle, and some of those coffee shops if you want, Ryan.” He frowned, but you continued. “Just because you can’t play guitar, it doesn’t mean that  you can’t sing … or just watch.” 

 You’d watched him interact with other musicians before, seamlessly entering into performances without missing a beat, and had no doubt that he’d be able to do the same in San Francisco, but you could tell he was apprehensive about his lack of instrument and needing to rely on the strength of his voice. “It’s a little different here. I have a buddy named Cliff, so I’m gonna call him, but I don’t know, my guitar is…” 

 “Hey.” You reached over the tabletop, touching the back of his hand. “You don’t need the guitar, Ryan. Your voice is enough.” He was silent for a few moments but then nodded, resolve in his eyes. 

 “It is. I’ll call him when you’re talking with Andrea.” About that… 

 “Ryan?” You pressed your lips together, leaning in. “She… I told her you were coming out here with me, and she wants to meet you.” His eyes widened and Ryan sat up straight, taking his hat off and running his right hand through his hair. “Yeah. I should have told you earlier, but…” You shook your head. “She loved the picture of you, Ry. And I can’t blame her, I’m not surprised she wants you to be there, but if you don’t want to go, I get it.” He paused for only a second, settling his hat back on his head. 

 “Of course I’ll go.” You felt yourself relax, watching as he leaned back, fingers gripping the edge of the table. “Anything you need.” 

 --- 

 An hour and a half later, a car dropped you off in front of Andrea’s gallery, a modern looking building on Lombard Street, and Ryan reached for your hand as soon as you stepped out of the vehicle, squeezing tightly. “Thank you for coming, Ryan.” He winked at you in response, and the two of you entered the building, still hand in hand and introduced yourselves to the young man sitting behind the front desk. While you waited, you and Ryan looked around the lobby of the building, talking quietly about the paintings and photographs hanging there. These are good. Much better than mine. You frowned as you looked, feeling Ryan’s thumb circling against the side of your hand reassuringly. 

 “They’re not.” He spoke quietly. “Yours are just as good as these, if not better.” Did I say it out loud? You turned to look at Ryan, who was gazing down at you, eyes focused. “You are incredible.” Just as you were about to respond, a middle-aged woman with bright red hair stepped into the lobby, a huge smile on her face. 

 “We’ve been waiting for you two!” She stepped over, introducing herself and offering her hand to you and then Ryan to shake.“Please come and sit in my office. We’ll walk through the main gallery.” As she led you through the space - wide open, bright light filtering through the windows, you couldn’t help looking around, taking in the images. I don’t belong here. This isn’t… Philadelphia was one thing, but San Francisco? I can’t. Ryan’s fingers stayed laced with yours, keeping you grounded, but you knew that if you chewed any harder on your lower lip, you’d bleed. 

 By the time the three of you made it to Andrea’s office, a comfortable room with a small couch that she urged you and Ryan to sit on, you had a gnawing sensation in the pit of your stomach. Shouldn’t have eaten that burger. It had seemed like such a good idea to come out, to meet with her and to discuss another show, but now that you were there, that it was actually a possibility, you were filled with doubt. “Thank you for having us, ma’am.” Ryan’s quiet voice broke the silence, and you looked over, surprised to see that he’d removed his hat, tucking it into the front pocket of his hoodie. “You’ve got a real nice place here.” With his few words, your apprehension melted away, replaced by resolve. He believes in me. 

 “No, thank you for making it out here!” Andrea raised one eyebrow, grinning. “And please, don’t call me ma’am, Andrea is fine… I’ve still got a few more years to go before ma’am is fitting.” Ryan laughed and you did too, leaning back in your seat as Andrea took her place across from you, crossing her legs at the knee. “So, Lori raved about you.” Andrea nodded her head as she spoke. “Said you came in one day to speak with her, and you were so confident that she couldn’t help but give you some space.” Yeah, I guess that’s what happened. “And your photographs? I flew in to visit her before the end of the show, and I was so impressed with what I saw that I couldn’t believe it. That was your first showing?” 

 “Yeah, I mostly do work for websites and magazines, but I’ve never had work showcased like that before - all in one place.” The woman watched you intently, eyes on your face. “I was back in Philadelphia cleaning out my parents’ place, and…”

 “I read about you, about what happened to them.” Her voice softer, Andrea’s eyes narrowed in sympathy. “That had to be very difficult.” Ryan reached over, putting a hand on your knee and squeezing without prompting. “But tragedies are sometimes what we need to push us further, right?” She paused, looking down at Ryan’s hand. “And when we have people to support us?” Her smile was genuine, and she continued. “We can get through things.” Oh, if you only knew. Changing the topic, you and Andrea talked for a few minutes about the Philadelphia show, about what motivated you to take some of the shots, about how you chose what to include. Ryan was a silent observer, but his presence kept you focused, the gentle sweep of his thumb on the inside of your knee comforting. “But my real question is about Ryan here.” Andrea motioned to him with one hand, her attention shifting. “And why he was the singlular human inclusion in your first show.” 

 Ryan’s POV 

 The question surprised him, but Ryan knew that it had surprised you more. “He was the only face in there, the only person… I just want to know why.” Andrea fell silent, waiting, and Ryan did too, wanting to know what you’d say. I know part of it, but… 

 “I’ve never felt anything before like what I felt with him in Las Vegas.” Your voice wavered only once, and you continued. “That picture was taken on the night before I left the city… before I left Ryan.” You shook your head and looked over at him, a sad smile on your face. “I was just trying to take a picture of him that would do him justice, that would show people how I saw him, even after only a few days of knowing him.” You looked down at your lap, reaching out with a hand to place it over Ryan’s, his flipping to make it easier. “I’d just met him, but it was like we’d known each other for years.” You looked up at Andrea, shrugging your shoulders. “He was proud of himself, and I was proud of him, too. Even though I didn’t know whether or not we’d ever see each other again after I left Vegas, I’d always have that moment, that memory.” The redhead nodded. “And I wanted people to see it, because at the time that I was putting the show together, we’d fallen out of contact.” 

 “I lost my phone,” Ryan said sadly. “I used to jump trains, and I slipped and lost it, and had no way of getting ahold of her.” Andrea’s face fell sympathetically, and Ryan continued. “It was a hard couple of months.” That’s putting it mildly. 

 “So I picked that picture, because… Ryan was the brightest part in some really dark moments of my life, and even if I didn’t have him, I’d… had him, just for a few days.” You trailed off. “I wanted to make him for everyone else what he was for me - larger than life, almost unreal. I wanted to remember him forever.” His heart thudded in his chest as the room went silent, and Ryan fought with himself not to grab you and kiss you on the couch. You can’t do that, Brenner. 

 “Anyone can take a photograph. Buildings and scenery and landscapes and all that… it’s easy.” Andrea spoke quietly, nodding her head slowly. “But it takes skill to capture that - a person, someone that’s basically a stranger - the way that you did with Ryan.” Andrea brought her eyes back up, looking at you and Ryan fought back a grin. Here we go. “I’ve been with my wife for over a decade, and we’ve taken thousands of pictures of each other, and none of them are like that.” Her eyes moved to Ryan. “I felt like I knew you looking at that picture, Ryan. That single moment was enough.” He nodded once, lip twitching into the barest of smiles. “So we’ve got an exhibit that’s ending at the beginning of the year, and a new one that opens at the end of January.” Andrea paused, leaning in. “That one ends in May.” Taking a breath, she tilted her head to the side. “Would six months be enough for you to go through your current work and take some new pictures so that you could open next June?” 

--- 

 He’d excused himself while you and Andrea went over the basics of a contract and a schedule, stepping out onto the front steps of the gallery and pulling his phone out. He called his friend, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk as they spoke, and made plans to meet up later that evening, Ryan explaining that he hadn’t brought his guitar. “Dude, it’s fine.” Cliff’s laugh through the phone comforted Ryan, and he exhaled. “You can still sing, it’s no big deal. This is so casual.” After only a few minutes, he hung up, looking around. Even if you stayed in South Carolina for a few extra months at the end of your current lease, you’d still be out by the time your exhibit opened, onto the next place, and Ryan figured you’d want to move away from the coast, settling somewhere in the Midwest. There has to be somethin’ that we can do, some way that we can find a place. 

 Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, the front door of the gallery opened and you stepped out, Andrea close behind. “Thank you again for coming.” She was grinning. “I’ll have our legal team finalize that contract and then send it over for you to look at.” You nodded, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand again as you thanked her. “And Ryan?” He licked his lips as he looked at Andrea, feeling you step next to him. “Take care of her.” I will. He grinned too, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand. “I hope you’ll come out here with her again when she’s setting up.” 

 “Plan on it.” He ducked his head, kissing the top of yours, and as you pulled him away from the gallery, both of you were silent until you’d crossed the street, turning the corner. “Well?” He spoke when you stopped, interrupting as you reached into your purse for your phone to call another Uber. “Everything good?” You didn’t answer right away and Ryan reached out, putting his hands on your shoulders, waiting. When you looked up at him, he saw the excitement in your eyes before you’d even spoken, the doubt all but gone. 

 “Yeah, Ryan, I’m… I’ve got a second show, and she wants me to have at least 200 images, and - “ Ryan moved, cutting you off with a kiss that started out slow, one hand leaving your shoulder and moving to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. You parted your lips for him, and he angled his head, drawing you closer. He could taste the mint on your breath from the mouthwash you’d used before getting into the first Uber, and though Ryan wanted to keep kissing you, he pulled away, taking a deep breath. “What was that for?” Everything. 

 “For bein’ you,” he replied simply. “For bein’ honest with Andrea… for always lookin’ at me like you could see me instead of just lookin’ through me like everyone else did.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke again, pulling you to his chest and hugging you tightly. “You coulda just watched a song and moved on like everyone else, but you didn’t. You stopped and you took a minute and you didn’t just see a guitar or hear a voice.” Ryan paused, closing his eyes and wrinkling his nose. “It’s like I’ve always been more to you, even when I wasn’t.” 

 “You were,” you replied quietly, taking a deep breath and shuddering. “Even before I knew you, knew your name, knew… who you were, you were more.” You shrugged, shaking your head and leaning forward, resting your forehead against his chest. “You were what I wanted to be but never found, Ryan. You… I couldn’t walk by. How could anyone?” I donno. Ryan’s hands moved up from your back, holding your face between them as he shook his head slowly back and forth. 

 “No idea. But I’m glad you didn’t.” You smiled, turning your head slightly to kiss the heel of his hand, eyes closing as your lips lingered on his skin. It’s that simple. “I love you.” He felt warm - like he did every time he got to look at you and say those words, and Ryan continued, urging you to look back at him. “You still wanna go to the Panhandle tonight?” A nod, your eyes full of light, and he tightened his fingers marginally, applying pressure to the area right behind your jaw. “Good. I got ahold of Cliff, we can meet him at seven.” 

 “Ry?” He hummed a response, watching you blink slowly at him. “It’s only 3:30, can we go back to the room for a while?” 

 ---

POV: You 

 After the stifling heat on the East coast, you were thrilled that you had a few days worth of cooler weather to enjoy. After you and Ryan had returned to the hotel room, where he’d eased you down into the bed and thoroughly congratulated you on the new exhibit, you’d napped, waking only when you heard the shower running. Joining him and playfully slapping his hands away in order to be sure that both of you actually showered so that you could meet his friends on time, you spent the entire shower watching him out of the corner of your eye and appreciating the way that the soapy water ran down his long, lean body. 

 “Jeans and boots?” Ryan was in the bathroom doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.” You laughed, looking up at him as you tugged the zipper of your boot up, hair hanging in a single sheet over your shoulder. 

 “You’ve never seen me in cold weather clothes, Ryan Brenner.” You stood, cocking your head to the side. “I live in jeans and boots in the fall and winter.” He looked you up and down, a smirk on his face. “You’re not the only one that can wear the hell out of denim.” He laughed, a hand moving through his hair as he stepped into the room and sat down on the bed next to where you’d been, pulling his own boots back on. 

 Silently, pulled on your overshirt - a black and gray flannel that had been your dads, and was one of the softest shirts you owned. “You’re perfect, you know that?” What? His voice was quiet as you turned, tucking the hem of Ryan’s green t shirt into the front of your jeans. “That your dad’s shirt?” You nodded, allowing him to pull you down onto his lap, his lips finding the side of your neck. “It’s good that you kept it.” You sat in silence, Ryan’s hand gripping your thigh and then he sighed. “We should get goin’, if we’re gonna walk it’s gonna take some time.” Standing, you turned to face Ryan and held your hands out, waiting for him to grip them so that you could pretend to help him get to his feet, but instead, he tugged you forward, surprising you as he laid back. 

 “Ryan!” You laughed as you landed on him, hair fanning out around your head. “What are you doing?” He let go of your hands and moved his to your hips, fingers beneath the flannel and gripping the material of his shirt. “You said we needed to go!” But you were laughing still, leaning down to kiss his mouth, lips meeting his readily. 

 “Just wanted another minute with you,” he mumbled, kissing the corner of your mouth and then your cheek, reaching up to push your hair away from your face. “I know we have to go, but…” You knew what he was trying to say, because you felt it, too. Though the two of you did things separately often, the times that you spent together were better  - and neither of you were unselfish enough to cut those moments any shorter than necessary. You’d been without him physically for nearly a year, and out of contact for months, and you weren’t about to waste any additional time when you had it because the truth of the matter was that neither of you really had anywhere concrete to be, except with each other. 

 Ryan finally pushed you off of him, groaning. “Yeah, yeah, Ry.” You rolled your eyes as you stood, again holding a hand out to him and tugging as he stood. “You excited to see your friends?” You put a hand on your hip as he looked to the wall next to the bed - where his guitar would have been. 

 “Wish I had my guitar.” You’d hurt yourself even more… you’ll be fine. “My voice is…”

 “Your voice is perfect, Ryan. You’re going to sing and you’re going to enjoy yourself, and you’re not even going to miss that guitar.” He looked at you, shaking his head. “Also, I have a surprise for you.” One eyebrow raised, he watched as you stepped over to your suitcase, reaching in and rooting around. “I figured you knew someone out here.” You sighed as your fingers closed around the small object. “And I knew that even though you couldn’t play, you’d want to sing with them.” Holding up the recorder, you watched as Ryan’s face lit up. “I didn’t think you’d even think about bringing it, so… I packed it for you.” 

 “You’re the best. What would I do without you?” Ryan’s relief and appreciation were genuine, and he took the device from you, tucking it into the pocket of his jeans. You’ll never find out.  “Ready?” You nodded as you grabbed the room key from the dresser, following him out of the room. 

--- 

 Cliff was waiting in the park with two other people - a man and a woman, both carrying instruments of their own. Magen had a banjo, Tommy had a set of well-worn bongos and Cliff’s guitar showed all the signs of being played for years without looking shabby. They welcomed Ryan into the group without pause, Cliff throwing his arms around  the taller man as he introduced everyone - and then, to your surprise, he hugged you, too. Oh, OK. “It’s good to finally meet you.” His smile was wide, and you couldn’t help returning it, throwing Ryan a questioning glance. “Brenner won’t shut up about you.” Cliff rolled his eyes, continuing. “We saw him last fall in Kansas, and I knew then that he wasn’t gonna let you go.” With another look at Ryan, you saw that his cheeks were bright red, lips pressed together in an embarrassed smile. Really? “Talked to him after Christmas, too, when he was in St. Louis.” It was Cliff’s turn to frown, and even as you felt Ryan’s hand on your hip, your heart thumped as you recalled the time - so recent - that you’d thought he was gone forever. “I’m glad you two found each other.” Cliff nodded again, gesturing to Ryan’s hand. “But you’re hurt again, Brenner? Come on!”

 “Played for so long I tore the calluses on my fingers, Cliff.” Ryan cleared his throat. “Already feel better, but I can’t play for a few days… still gonna sing, though.” The mood shifting, Cliff gestured to a blanket only a few feet away and you and Ryan settled in, the others gathering around you. Ryan let the three of them play for a few songs, Magen’s voice soulful and definitely not what you expected out of her and Tommy clearly in love with the girl, as his eyes never left her, even as he played. Cliff was talented on the guitar, but you could tell that Ryan felt uncomfortable sitting idle, and after two songs, you leaned over, whispering in his ear. 

 “You said that you just sang at first when you were in St. Louis with Kenny, right?” He nodded, brown eyes filled with longing as he looked at Cliff’s instrument. “Do the same thing here. Ask them to play something that you can sing, and just don’t think about it.” He paused, letting them finish and then nodded, crossing his legs and turning the upper half of his body to face the other three. 

 “Mind if I join in?” He sounded hopeful, and the next couple of minutes were spent discussing what direction to go in, Ryan turning back to you and pulling the recorder out of his pocket, handing it to you. “You’ll know when to turn it on.” Will I? He cleared his throat, waiting and when Tommy started playing, everyone else joined in. They played three songs, Magen and Ryan taking turns on lead vocals, Cliff joining in at times and then took a break, talking amongst themselves and to the people that had stopped. There were just as many people giving Ryan longing looks as there were gazing as Magen, but even as he talked with the people that stopped, he made it clear that he was with you - a hand on top of yours, fingers trailing down your arm, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek. No doubt. 

 Ryan relaxed as the night went on, but you never got the sense that what was happening was special - well, special enough to be out of the ordinary, at least. The four musicians played well together, complimenting each other, ad libbing, extending songs… and you watched eagerly, drinking the performances in. By nine thirty, it was fully dark out, the park crowd changing to adults, to people that were there specifically to listen to performers like your group, and you offered to get up, buying bottles of water from a nearby Chevron station for everyone so that they could keep playing. You took your time walking to and from the building, the bag over your arm full of water and a Red Bull for yourself that you knew Ryan would drink half of, admiring the area that you were in. 

 When you got back to the group, they were between songs, and Ryan surprised you by pulling you down onto his lap, arms going around you as the five of you laughed with the gathered crowd. This is so different. You felt accepted by this group of Ryan’s friends, and though you were thankful, you were also sad that Georgie had responded to you in the way that he had. I wonder if he’d ever change his mind. Your questioning was short lived, because as soon as Ryan had drained the last of your can, he motioned for you to get off of him, standing up and stretching. They played another song - an ubeat one that had Ryan and Tommy laughing by the end, Ryan’s long legs folding beneath him as he sat back down, bumping his shoulder into yours. 

 Without pause, Cliff began playing another song, Tommy’s drums joining in without missing a beat. Eyes widening, you scrambled for the recorder, flipping it on and pressing record even as you moved away from Ryan to get a better vantage point. “All you, Brenner.” You heard Magen’s voice, quiet and sure as she lowered her banjo, letting Cliff and Tommy take over. Ryan took a deep breath and started singing, eyes closing after only a few words. 

 It's the time of the season

When love runs high

And this time, give it to me easy

And let me try with pleasured hands

 Magen’s voice joined his as he reached the chorus, and you were shocked at how well they blended together. His face, it’s different… he… His eyes were squeezed shut, nose crinkled as he breathed life into the words, and you vaguely noticed a growing crowd of people around you, pausing to listen and watch, staying respectfully silent. Ryan’s eyes opened again in the interlude between verses, his head turning toward you, eyes landing on your face just before he started singing again. Ryan inhaled, one eyebrow raised as he reached a hand out to you, fingertips grazing the curve of your cheek. 

 What's your name? 

Who's your daddy?

Is he rich like me?

Has he taken, any time

To show you what you need to live

 You couldn’t breathe. He’s trying to kill me. In Ryan’s voice, the words that you’d heard hundreds of times before took on new meaning, the way he stared at you as he sang - like he was the one that had written the lyrics, that the song was for you… it was unlike anything you’d heard before. His eyes closed again as Magen joined in, Ryan’s hand falling away from your face and back into his lap as he continued to sing, wetting his lips with his tongue with another inhalation. 

 Though the verse was repeated, Ryan and Magen switched the lead, his deep tone almost more suited for the echoes than the main lines, but by the third time they sang it - together, you could tell that she’d resigned herself to being the backup. This is even better than Vegas. Ryan took a final breath before the last lines of the song, closing his eyes again, and you watched his upper lip curl, the last notes leaving his lips and lingering in the air. When he finally stopped singing, Ryan opened his eyes again, lips parting as his tongue poked out. Before even looking at the crowd, Ryan turned to you, and you saw his lower lip tremble, the expression on his face one of hope and surprise. 

 “I got it.” You nodded, reaching down and pressing the ‘stop’ button on the device, nodding. “Every bit of it.” He let out a deep breath just as the final guitar note faded away and people began to clap, stepping forward and dropping money into the guitar case in front of you. Oh, Ryan. Even as he stood, a smile on his face as he spoke to the people watching, Ryan’s right hand reached down, fingers spread as he tapped on your shoulder, urging you to your feet. 

 Standing, he put his arm around your shoulders and gestured to Magen, waiting for her to stand as both Cliff and Tommy did the same, the conversation around you growing louder as everyone spoke at the same time, excitedly. He was right. You looked around, noticing the looks on people’s faces. They see performances like this all the time, and yet.. This one… they can tell it was special. A few minutes later, you’d pulled away from Ryan and everyone had settled back in, the music starting again without fail. It doesn’t matter what else they play tonight - that was it.

 Heart beating quickly, you allowed your mind to wander, trying to figure out how you and Ryan were going to get to all of the places he wanted to go so that he could connect with his friends and sing - the way he’d done that night, the way he’d done in New York, even the way he’d done in Vegas in front of the Eiffel Tower. The setting doesn’t matter. It’s the people, the feeling that he gets. 

 That night, sitting on a threadbare blanket on the grass of San Francisco’s Panhandle, you made an important decision: no matter what you had to do, you were going to make sure that Ryan got to where he needed to go and to who he needed to see. I owe you that, Ryan Brenner. You deserve it. 

---

[something-tofightfor]

The Big Easy (Drabble #2)

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader

Word Count: 1658

Rating: M (Language, a little bit of sexual talk?)

Author’s Note: Who wouldn’t want to see Ryan in New Orleans? That city screams ‘blues’ ... so here you go. Hope you enjoy it. 

The heat was almost suffocating, but Ryan stayed put, sweat dripping down his brow and tracing a path down the back of his neck too, sliding beneath the collar of his white shirt. He was playing hard, taking his turns with his friend Fabienne, who had an accordion and a washboard that she too alternated with. He was having fun despite the heat, and even though it was nearly midnight, Decatur street was still wild and alive, the crowds pulsing around him - people just as sweaty as he was, not caring at all. The drinks were flowing, and though all Ryan had consumed since he and Fabienne had started playing was about a gallon and a half of water, he was still locked in. Haven’t played like this since … since New York. 

As the song Ryan was playing came to an end, the group of people that had stopped to watch him clapped and cheered politely, including Fabienne, who had picked her washboard back up, raising an eyebrow at him and mouthing the word “sun”, even as Ryan nodded, using a free hand to push his hair back from his sweaty forehead. It was cliche, but Fabienne’s version of Nina Simone’s version of the song was entrancing, and even though he’d heard her sing it nearly a hundred times before, as he strummed along, providing backing vocals when the song called for them, Ryan found his attention focused on the movement of the woman’s hands, the way her mouth looked as she sang.

 What they’d had when he was barely twenty and Fabienne a few years older had been short-lived but intense, and as Ryan played he smiled to himself, realizing that that seemed to be his MO;  falling quick and falling hard - letting himself get lost in the things around him. Not anymore. The easy friendship that had been the result of the months they’d spent together was well worth the anguish he’d first felt when she told him she was settling in to New Orleans, that she’d found a place to call her home - and it was in the city she’d abandoned as a teenager. She was Ryan’s first heartbreak - his most important - and even almost a decade later, he still loved her dearly. Fabienne and Ryan had kept in touch throughout the years, and he’d been at her wedding to Alexander, a man that had been passing through the city and had fallen in love with the woman just as quickly as Ryan had. There were no hard feelings between Ryan and Fabienne, and though she’d called him a silly boy, even has her fingers had tugged on his hair and trailed down his neck for the last time, it hadn’t taken long for Ryan to realize that she’d been right - he had still been just a kid, had no clue what he wanted or who he wanted to be… and New Orleans wasn’t going to help him figure it out and neither was she. 

 The crowd was silent as they watched the duo, but it wasn’t because they were bad - it was because they played so fluidly that it was as if they were the same person, adding in extra runs and notes, pauses that shouldn’t have been there without missing a beat. As they played, Ryan realized that this was to be their last song that night; she always ended things with a bang, and this was it - this was her finale, the way that she’d always been. When the song ended, Ryan took a deep breath, realizing that he’d closed his eyes as he sang along, one foot moving against the ground, his left hand gripping the neck of his guitar tighter than usual. He could feel the slickness on the instrument, a combination of his own sweat and the moisture in the air, and Ryan suddenly wanted a shower more than anything else in the world. I made the right call, bringin’ this guitar. 

 He took another breath, finally opening his eyes and looking over at his friend, who was grinning wildly, shaking people’s hands and adjusting her dress as she did so, using the skirt to carefully wipe the sweat from her face. She truly was at home in the French Quarter, though she hadn’t been playing much since she and Alexander’s son had been born seven months prior, but Ryan knew that it wouldn’t take her long to get back into the swing of things… and if the way she’d played that night and the nights before were any indication, she was focused. “Are you ready, Brenner?” He grinned at hearing his name in her thick accent and rolled his shoulders, reaching down into his guitar case for the dry cloth he kept there, slowly and carefully wiping it over the smooth wood of the Gibson. 

 By the time he finished, settling the guitar back into the hard case, Fabienne was packed up as well, holding a folded stack of bills in her hand, which she then presented to Ryan, who tucked them into his wallet without counting them. Good night, and it’s still early. “Where’s Alex?” The woman smiled, a hand smoothing back her hair and she gestured down the street. “Again?” The woman laughed, stepping over to Ryan, fingers hooked around the strap of the bag she’d slung over her shoulder, which carried both instruments and the folding stool she’d perched on all night. “I can’t blame him, those beignets are incredible. 

 “They are, I ate about a thousand of them when I was pregnant with Cecily… and your friend seems to enjoy them too, Ryan.” At the mention of you, Ryan felt himself smle, his head moving up and down. “I’m glad that they’re getting to know each other.” He nodded again, following Fabienne over to her car in a nearby parking lot, securing the instruments in the trunk. For the past few days - ever since you’d arrived in New Orleans, you and Alexander had spent time getting to know each other while Ryan and Fabienne reconnected. The purpose of the trip wasn’t to busk, though practice was necessary in order to do what Ryan had really wanted to do with Fabienne: record a video of them playing together in a setting that wasn’t a studio. 

 Did she have a voice that would be perfect for it ? Yes. Was she surprised that Ryan didn’t want to go professional? She was. But she understood - because as you’d said to him in Vegas, it wasn’t about having a perfect recording every time - it was about the way it felt to sing and play. As they made their way down the street toward the cafe where you and Alexander were waiting, Ryan stepped closer to Fabienne, ducking his head down as they walked, pausing in front of the door to the 24 hour cafe. “Ladies first, Fabi.” She laughed at his nickname for her, bowing slightly as she stepped through the door, Ryan following. 

 Though he’d last seen you only a few hours before, the moment he laid eyes on you, the deep purple of your maxi dress rich against your skin, Ryan felt his chest get tight, watching as you sat up straighter at the table, raising your coffee cup to your lips. Fabienne sank down onto a seat next to Alexander, the man leaning over to kiss her, her hands eagerly reaching for the powdered confections on the table in front of them. “Have a good night?” You spoke quietly to him, leaning in to press a kiss to his bearded cheek, your fingers moving to the back of his head, curling the damp hair at the nape of his neck around your fingertips. “You guys play like you used to?”

  On the flight to New Orleans, Ryan had told you about his history with Fabienne in detail, elaborating on the things that he’d first told you about her when you he’d told you his plan to reach out to some of his contacts on your trip across the country. You took it in stride - as you did with most things post-Jackie, but Ryan had been nervous for you to meet the woman for the first time, not knowing what he’d do if he ever came face to face with someone else that you’d been intimate with any point in your life. But it seemed that you’d taken to Fabienne as quickly as everyone that met her, and Ryan was glad. They’d opened their home to the two of you, and Ryan could tell that you weren’t looking forward to leaving. “Yeah,” he grinned, nodding his head. “Yeah, we did.” You licked your lips, staring at Ryan for a moment before you broke eye contact, reaching out for one of the beignets on the table and holding it up to him before taking a bite and setting the remainder of it down on the plate, the powdered sugar drifting over your hand and against your lips, even as you chewed. 

 “Want one? They taste great.” You spoke after you swallowed, and Ryan barely let you get the words out before he leaned in, taking your hand and bringing your fingertips to his lips, sucking the powder from them without batting an eye. “Shit, Ry!” Your eyes widened, darting over to Fabienne and Alexander, but they were speaking animatedly to each other, not paying attention, and when your gaze returned to him he saw that you were looking at him with hooded eyes, the skin of your chest and shoulders reddening as he gave the same treatment to each digit in turn, his long fingers closing around your entire hand and squeezing when he finished. 

 He tugged you closer, lips finding your cheek first and then your mouth, slipping his tongue in with ease and tasting the pastry. “Nah,” he sighed as he pulled away, feeling your other hand tightening against his neck, a grin spreading across his face. “That’s what I’ve got you for.” 

---

[something-tofightfor]

Just a Place - Part 5

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader ..... Ryan Brenner x Jackie Laurel (fucking ew.)

Word Count: 6600 (it got long... but it needed to.)

Rating: M (language, zest light)

Summary: Jackie’s calling Ryan after two years... what does she want, and how does he respond? 

** You will not understand a darn thing in this if you haven’t read “Neon Lights”, which can be found on my masterlist page **

Author’s Note: Oof. Ryan’s a lot nicer to this woman than I would have been. 

Tag list: @traeumerinwitzhelden @mfackenthal @songtoyou @obscurilicious @elanor-of-imladris @thesumofmychoices @suchatinyinfinity @audreychaz @benbarnestongue @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @the-blind-assassin-12 @ms-delos @lexxierave @dreams-with-thoughts @gollyderek

POV: Ryan

 He watched as you froze in place, felt your fingers curl against his side, the edges of your nails digging into his skin. Shit. He moved his hand, the tip of his thumb moving over the cheek that wasn’t pressed into the pillow, and Ryan felt almost lost. She hasn’t ever looked at me like this, not even when Georgie… not when she was tellin’ me about her parents… “What did she want? How did she find you?” There was a pause between your sentences, a moment where you desperately tried to stop your voice from wavering and Ryan’s heart felt like it was twisting in his chest as he blew out a breath at your words, trying to laugh. There’s no way to sugarcoat this.

 “She’s gettin’ married and wanted me to tell her not to go through with it.” You removed your hand from his side immediately, but Ryan didn’t stop the movement of his thumb, didn’t look away from you. “She…” He closed his eyes. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, but it’s not gonna make you happy.” You smiled, but the expression only made it a fraction of a second on your lips before they started shaking, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you turned your face to the pillow and away from him. “Oh, no.” His hand was in your hair and Ryan shifted closer to you, lips making their way to your cheek and then to your ear, his hand on your shoulder. “Hey, come on.” He kissed you again, feeling you tremble under his touch and he sat up in the bed, shaking his head back and forth. Goddamn you, Jackie. “Hey.” Ryan said your name, sliding his hand back up, his fingers on your jaw. “Please look at me.” Your name fell from his lips, and it was his turn to feel weak and anxious, unsure of whether or not you’d look at him or hold your position - next to him but so far away. “C’mon.” You took a very deep breath, peeking up at him from the pillow and Ryan finally smiled again, thumb going to the corner of your lips. “There you are.”

 “You leaving, Ryan?” The tone of your voice, the resignation in it broke him down immediately. “She went to all that trouble to find you, she obviously wants-”

 “She doesn’t know what she wants. She never did.” That I’m sure of. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He shook his head, watching as you turned your head to look at him fully, a confused look on your face but hope - the barest glimmer of it - in your eyes. “I don’t love her. I love you, and she knows it.” Ryan closed his eyes, his hand sliding down your arm again. “We shouldn’t talk about her in our bed.” You opened your eyes wide in surprise, but nodded twice, sitting up. “I should have known better.” He watched as you drew your knees up to your chest, putting your head down on top of them, and Ryan’s hands rested in his lap, fingers against the sheets. “Can we go sit somewhere else?” You nodded, taking a deep breath and locking eyes with him.

 “I love you, Ryan.” He deflated at the words, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. Ryan felt more relief than he thought possible, bringing his hands up to his face. “Let’s got into the other room.” He felt the bed move as you shifted, getting out on the opposite side and a few seconds later he did the same, standing and turning toward the door. He didn’t expect to see you waiting there for him, but you were - leaning against the door frame with one hand on your hip, eyes on him. She’s there. “Couch?” He nodded, crossing the room in only a few steps but hesitating before he reached out to you, taking your hand in his. “Love you, Ry.” You spoke softly, but it was all the encouragement he needed.

 By the time the two of you had settled onto the couch, Ryan was more sure of what he wanted to tell you, of how he wanted the conversation to go - what he needed to get across. He’d expected you to sit on the cushions next to him, space in between the two of you, but instead, you’d waited until he sat, propping his feet up on the coffee table before lowering yourself onto his lap, your back to the arm of the couch, knees bent and feet resting on the cushion beside you. Ryan immediately put his arm around you, pulling you closer, his free hand resting on your bent knee. You sat quietly for a few minutes, forehead pressed against Ryan’s neck and your breath hitting his bare chest. I never felt this. Not before. Not… not with her. “Where do you want me to start?” He finally spoke, clearing his throat. “I don’t…”

 “Whatever you want to tell me, Ryan.” You still sounded defeated, but you didn’t change your positioning, and your arm - the one that wasn’t sandwiched between your bodies - rose, returning to his side. He paused again, thinking, and as he started speaking, he moved the hand on your knee, sliding it up and down slowly, fingers grazing your shin.

 “Alright.” He closed his eyes. “So I was sittin’ on the back porch, havin’ coffee this morning…

 ---

 Ryan’s mornings were never exactly the same, but he enjoyed one thing every day: at least one cup of coffee, hot and strong with just a splash of milk on the back porch. If it was raining, Ryan sat on the bench in the front of the house beneath the covered roof and watched as the traffic drove by. It wasn’t quite like being on the trains, but it was close enough; the solitude gave him a chance to think, and you never bothered him when you saw him in either place, though he wouldn’t have minded. The morning was clear, meaning that Ryan was relaxing on the back porch, eyes gazing upward at the sky. Gonna be a hot one. It was barely 11 am, and the temperature was already in the mid 80’s, but you’d left early that morning, leaving him sleeping in bed. Working with David was keeping him busy, and they were in the middle of a total home renovation, which meant full days - but it also meant a steady income, and Ryan wasn’t complaining at all. It did mean, though, that he came home tired most afternoons, and that he slept in on his days off.

 Ryan finished his coffee, standing and stretching. You’d be gone until early afternoon most likely, and Ryan wanted to play his guitar before he did anything else, putting the finishing touches on a song that he’d been slowly writing for the past few weeks. As he made his way back into the house, he put the empty mug in the sink, ran a hand through his hair, mentally reminding himself to get it trimmed since it was longer than usual, and headed back into the bedroom, grabbing his phone off of the bedside table. He checked it - there was one text from you, telling him that you hoped he’d slept well, and as he went to answer it, an incoming call flashed on the screen. Utah? His first instinct was to send it to voicemail, but his finger hovered over the green button to answer it. Ginny? Henry would be a toddler now, and Georgie’s out that way, he wouldn’t hesitate to… Ryan took a breath, pressing the button to answer the call, bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

 There was silence on the other end for long moments and Ryan frowned, pulling the phone away from his ear to check the connection. Repeating himself, he waited. “R-Ryan?” He pulled the phone away from his ear, swearing under his breath and closing his eyes. “Ryan?”

 “Jackie?” Shit. “How’d you get this number?” The woman on the other end laughed but the sound was tinged with sadness. Waiting for her response, Ryan sat down on the edge of the bed, putting his free hand up and covering his eyes.

 “I… Lia..” Jackie laughed again. “Jesus Christ.” She took a deep breath. “Lia looked up your name online, and… there were videos of you playing at some places on the east coast. New York in a park, a bar in Charleston, some place in Florida.” Oh. “And then she found your Instagram page. I walked into her room one night and she was listening to our… to you.” Well, it worked, I guess… people have found it, they’re seein’ me. “You still sound really good, Ryan.”

 “Thanks.” His lips were pressed together, eyes trained on the ceiling. “Been playin’ a lot.” What do you want, Jackie?

 “Have you been recording? You and Georgie and -”

 “Jackie.” He cut her off, hearing the tone in her voice, sensing that she was straying further and further away from the real reason that she’d called. “Why are you callin’ me? It’s been almost two years, and we didn’t exactly … You and I have nothin’ to say to each other.” He stood, walking to the end of the bed and looking around the room, eyes falling on the pictures of the two of you on the wall, his watch and your jewelry on the top of the dresser.

 “Ryan, I…” Jackie sighed. “A lot has happened since you decided to leave. A lot’s changed.” Decided to leave? That’s not what happened. “Wes and I got divorced, and Lia’s going to be in high school starting next month…” She kept talking but Ryan wasn’t fully listening, moving into the kitchen and dropping into one of the chairs by the table, leaning back and looking out the window. “Ryan?” He heard his name, which brought him back to the present. “Are you listening to me?” Yeah, sure.

 “Jackie, what do you want?” Though it was rude, he didn’t care. “We haven’t talked in forever, and you’re callin’ and telling me about things that don’t matter.” He sighed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the sharp intake of breath on her end. “There has to be a reason you looked into it enough to find me, and…”

 “Why’d you change your number?” She sounded genuinely curious, but didn’t give Ryan a chance to answer before she continued. “I tried calling you a few months ago, and some woman answered, said that I wasn’t the first woman to be looking for you.”

 “Yeah, I dropped my phone jumpin’ a train in January.” Ryan flipped his arm over, looking at the tattoo on his wrist, flexing his fingers. “Had to get a new one with a new number.”

 “Why are you being so short with me, Ryan?” Jackie had the nerve to sound hurt, and Ryan pictured her sitting on her bed, one hand holding her phone, the other resting on her lap. “I know we fought and you left, and… but what we had was -”

 “I didn’t leave, Jackie. You told me that if I couldn’t be what you wanted that I needed to go.” He laughed. “So I went.” She coughed, disguising some other sound that she’d made, but Ryan continued. “You gave me a few weeks to get it together, weeks to change my life, and when it didn’t happen fast enough for you, it wasn’t good enough.” She tried to respond, but he cut her off again. “I wasn’t gonna settle down in Utah, Jackie. I wasn’t going to stop playing music and sit behind a desk for next to nothin’. You knew that, you knew what I wanted to do and who I wanted to be.”

 “I wanted you, Ryan.” Her voice was quiet, and Ryan heard the tremble in it. “I wanted you to want me, to want a life with me, and with Lia, and for it to be -”

 “Enough?” She agreed quietly, and Ryan stopped speaking, closing his eyes. “Jackie, it… it wasn’t going to be enough, not right away, not like you wanted. We didn’t know each other, we didn’t… there wasn’t time. I came back once because I thought…” Fuck. Ryan paused, gritting his teeth. “We tried. We weren’t happy. You wanted me to be somethin’, and I wanted another thing, a different thing.”

 “You were never gonna stop, were you?” She sounded sad, and Ryan wrinkled his nose, biting down on his lower lip. “You were never going to stay, never… it’s never going to be enough for you, is it? A normal life, one place, one person, one…” Jackie trailed off and Ryan felt himself smiling, eyes wandering over to the couch, where a blanket was haphazardly thrown over the back, then to the front door, where your shoes were mixed in with his. I didn’t think so. But it just wasn’t the right time… the right place… or the right person.

 “I wasn’t.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t happy. You weren’t happy. You had to deal with Wes and with the divorce and with Lia and your mom… I was in your way. I didn’t fit into the life you already had, not with the way I was.” Jackie was silent for long moments, the only sound her deep breathing. “It happens, Jackie. We’re lucky we figured it out quick.” It still took too long.

 “Maybe you could come back through, yeah? To Utah? Just to visit. It would be nice to see you, and maybe we could…” Ryan froze, realizing that she’d completely ignored what he had said. We could what? “I’m engaged, Ryan. Getting married in November. I just want to know… I want to make sure that it’s… and if you come back, and I see you again, maybe you can…” She stopped, swearing again. “Tell me not to do it, Ryan. Tell me it’s the wrong decision?”

 “Do you love him?” Ryan’s voice was steady though his eyes were narrowed. “It seems pretty simple to me, where’s the decision? You agreed to marry him, so you must love him.” This isn’t my place. This is on you.

 “It’s complicated, Ryan. I feel… he’s… he’s not you. He’s nothing like you. I’ve been thinking about you since you left, but I wanted to give you your space.” He laughed, shaking his head back and forth, hand flat on the table. “Just come here, for a few days, we can catch up, and I can explain, we can talk, we can decide… I want to see you. We can-”

 “I’m not makin’ a decision for you, Jackie. I helped you once, told you what you needed to hear when you needed to hear it… it’s not my job to do it again.” Ryan was breathing hard, trying to keep his voice even. You don’t love me. You didn’t love me. This isn’t my decision to make. I’m not… no.

 “Ryan, please.” She paused and he heard her sniff, heard her take a deep breath. “I just need to see you. Take a break from the east coast and come back this way, it’s not like you have anything keeping you in one place.”

 “How do you know?” Jackie gasped. “How do you know what I have and what I don’t? It’s been two years, Jackie.” Without waiting for her to respond, he continued. “I have a job here. Friends. I have…” He paused. “I have a life here. A home.” I do.

 “What?” She sounded amazed, in disbelief. “What do you mean? You were just in New York, there’s videos of you in St. Louis and Philadelphia and…” She laughed. “A home? With friends? It’s gonna be there when you get back, you can leave for a while, it’ll  -”

 “I’m with someone, Jackie.” She stopped speaking immediately. “We’ve got a house and we’re… makin’ a life together.” His heartbeat was erratic, but not because he didn’t want to talk about you - because he didn’t want to talk about you with her. “I’m not comin’ to Utah, not comin’ to see you. I’m not on the trains anymore. I’m done with that, I don’t need to…”

 “So it’s good enough now, but it wasn’t with me?” Jackie was angry, her voice rising in volume. “You’ve stopped before, Ryan. And it’s never stuck, it’s never…”

 “I wasn’t in love with someone before.” His voice was quiet but sure, and Ryan took a deep breath before he continued. “Bein’ in love changes everything, Jackie. There’s nothin’ I wouldn’t do for her.”

 “So she asks you to stop, and you do it immediately, but I asked you, and it was out of the question?” Ryan took a breath, squaring his shoulders.

 “I didn’t love you.” She whispered his name, the sound laced with anguish, but Ryan continued. “We didn’t even know each other, how… Jackie, come on. I was there for a week before I left the first time. It was… you were dealin’ with the divorce and I was upset because of Cowboy and Ginny and… it was what it was, Jackie. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.” He heard her sobbing on the other end of the line.

 “You don’t mean that, Ryan. We… Lia and I… we wanted you here, wanted you with us.” Don’t use Lia against me. “I believed in you, Ryan, I wouldn’t have given you that guitar if I didn’t.” Ryan’s hand slapped against the table, mouth set into a straight line. “That meant something, Ryan. Jesus Christ, you-”

 “Yeah, it meant somethin’ alright, Jackie.” He was speaking quietly, his voice almost a growl. “It meant that you wanted me to live out my dreams by way of yours.” She didn’t respond. “I didn’t ask for that guitar. I didn’t want you to give it to me, I wanted to earn it myself. My guitar was more than enough, and if I left Ogden before I got the new one, oh well.” She laughed and Ryan felt himself tense at the sound. “I believed in you bein’ a good mom to Lia, Jackie. And you were. You stood up for her and for yourself, did what you had to do. And I’m glad to hear it’s all over. I’m…” He stopped, eyes looking down at the table. There’s nothing else to say.

 “What’s she like, Ryan?” Jackie’s voice was soft, interested. “How’d she win you over?” He frowned. “What does she do, Ryan? How’d she convince you to stop?” I know what you’re doing, and you don’t get to do this. “What does she make you feel, Ryan? It can’t be… I know how you are, I know you, I -” No, you don’t. You never did.

 “Everything.” He stood from the table, walking to the front door and opening it as he stepped out onto the covered area, taking a seat on the bench. “She’s everything.” There was a long pause, and Ryan felt his heart pounding in his chest at the revelation. It’s the truth. “She didn’t ask me to stop, Jackie. I decided to, even before we...That’s what she does. She makes me feel everything.” He shook his head before tilting it to the side, fingers tightening around the phone. “She’s it for me, Jackie. That’s just… she sees me, she knows me, she… gets me like no one has before.” And I let her.

 “Now, that’s not true, Ryan. I got you. I understood your life and your need to… be more, to do more, to write and play and sing. I just… Goddamn it.” Jackie swore, the sound harsh. “You didn’t give me a chance.”

 “No. You didn’t give me a chance. You wanted me to do what you expected me to do, Jackie. You wanted me to play and record, but only when it was convenient for you. You wanted me to get a job in Ogden, to maybe play when I was off, but not go too far in case you needed somethin’… You wanted me to stay with Lia while you flew back to New York for the settlement, and that’s fine because Lia’s just a kid and we got along… you wanted me to fill in all of these parts of your life without worryin’ about the things in mine that needed to be filled. I’m not you, Jackie. I don’t want to be. You had an idea about what you wanted from me, and when it got real clear that I wasn’t gonna -”

 “Fuck you, Ryan.” She was crying again, her words angry. “Fuck you and your music and your bullshit excuses. Fuck you for saying that you didn’t ever love me, or that you don’t care. Lia and I are… we don’t need you.” You just said you wanted me to come to Utah, that you… Jesus. “I wish I never met you, Ryan Brenner. I wish I’d never invited you into my house, and I wish that we’d never…” She was losing steam with each word, her sobs clearly audible through the phone. “I wish you’d give me a chance.” Ryan didn’t respond for a few minutes, letting her cry herself out as he leaned forward, staring down at the wood beneath his feet - freshly stained courtesy of his own hands - and breathing deeply, his nose wrinkled and his teeth biting down on the inside of his lower lip.

 “Jackie?” He paused, waiting for her response. “Jackie, I’m not going to tell you what to do. You gotta make that decision on your own.” He sighed, taking a deep breath. “If you don’t love this guy, it’s not fair to either of you to marry him.” She laughed, the sound choked. “But you don’t need me. You never did. You and Lia… you’re gonna be fine. You gotta do what makes you happy, just like I do. And this… she makes me happy. Really happy. This is enough for me.” He swallowed. “I love her, Jackie. And maybe that’s the closure you need… and maybe it’s not, but it’s the truth, and that’s all that matters to me.” Jackie laughed again, but Ryan knew it was to hide more tears, more disappointment. “I don’t think you should call me again, Jackie.” She gasped. “I’ve said everythin’ I need to say to you.” You’re not gonna get what you want from me.

 “Just… think about it, Ryan. You think you know what you want and how you feel, but you won’t ever be sure unless…” No, you’re not sure,.

 “I’m sure. This is goodbye, Jackie. I hope Lia does real good in high school.” He smiled, thinking of the little blonde girl and her big personality. “She’s gonna make a lot of friends.” She started speaking again, saying his name, but Ryan took another deep breath. “Goodbye, Jackie. Be good to your new husband.” He pulled the phone away from his ear, pressing the “end call” button. Ryan stared down at the phone screen for long seconds - the only sounds the passing cars as his finger hovered over the “block caller”  button. “Shit.” He sat up, leaning his head against the wall behind him. “Shit, Jackie.”

 Without warning, the phone vibrated again, Ryan’s eyes snapping to the screen. Really? Sending the call to voicemail, Ryan wasted no time in hitting the same button as before - but this time, he pressed and confirmed the option, blocking Jackie’s number. Done.

 ---

 POV: You

 “So I didn’t leave here because I was tryin’ to hide that I talked to her, or because I’m thinkin’ about going to see her.” He took a deep breath and then let it out, looking over at you. “I left because she doesn’t get to fuck this up, she doesn’t get to be a part of this.” He gestured between you two, shaking his head. “She doesn’t get to make me feel like shit for loving you or for choosin’ how to live my life.” As he’d talked, Ryan’s voice had remained level, remained perfectly composed. He was explaining things as if they were fact - like he was looking at them from the outside, and it concerned you. This isn’t him. He’s… usually emotional. He…

 Ryan had gently shifted you off of his lap around the time he’d told you that she wanted him to come see her in Utah, putting his feet down on the ground and clasping his hands together in front of him. He’d stood and walked over to the main window, fingers trailing over the frame as he talked about telling her that you lived together. You’d watched as Ryan tuened around to face you, his eyes wide and his voice finally breaking when he admitted to Jackie that he was in love with you. Oh, Ryan.

 You knew that what he was saying - that he’d never loved her - was the truth, but you knew that he’d cared, that the woman and her daughter had made an impression on him, that he couldn’t just ignore it. He needs to be honest with himself. You hadn’t interrupted him, letting him get to the end of his story, watching his fingers tap on his pocket as he told you about blocking the number, about leaving soon after the call ended and walking through the heat to Citadel Mall, where he’d bought himself lunch and just sat, thinking and trying to come to terms with the fact that she’d called after so long, that she expected so much of him after what had happened between them. He has to know that it’s not on him.

 He’d gone to a movie, sitting in the darkness just for something to do, for a way to pass the time alone. When he’d finished, he saw the messages from you on his phone, saw that you’d be out for a while, and so he’d walked home, gotten the guitar, and headed downtown for his set at The Pour House, opting to spend time busking before the set as a way to clear his head further. “She’s right, Ry.” You finally spoke, shrugging your shoulders. “The way you left it, there’s gotta be some uncertainty.” It kills me to say that, but…

 “No.” He shook his head, finally crossing the room again and sitting back on the couch, his hand reaching out for your knee. “There’s none.” He pressed his lips together. “Not about the way I feel about her, at least.” He sighed, looking down at his hand. “I care about her. I care what happens to her. She… gave me some hope, gave me… I don’t know, it was somethin’ I needed. She needed me, and I needed her, but…” Ryan lowered his head, shaking it. “It was never gonna be enough for her, no matter how many times she tries to tell herself that it could have been. It was never love.” You shook your head, not understanding fully. “I can’t explain it. With her, the idea of bein’ stuck - bein’ in the same place with the same people and the same thing just… it scared me, you know?” He took a breath and you felt his hand begin to move, thumb swiping across your skin. “Even the thought of goin’ out and jumping a train for a week or two wasn’t… it wasn’t enough. And there wouldn’t have been time for that, especially not with Lia.”

 “You talk about Lia more than you do Ja-” Ryan cut you off.

 “Don’t say her name, please. It doesn’t sound right comin’ from your mouth.” Ryan cleared his throat. “Lia’s great. She’s smart and kind and funny. She’s got a lot goin’ for her. She was the best part about stayin’ in Utah, we got along.” He smiled. “She knew, though. She always asked when I was leavin’, said that makin’ the decision didn’t have to be hard.” Ryan laughed. “She knew I wasn’t gonna stay, I think.” She was like eleven, really? “I didn’t love Jackie, but I cared about her. I won’t lie about that.” He scooted closer, shaking his head and bringing his other hand up, touching the side of your face. “I’m in love with you. I want to be here, want to be with you. I’m glad she found me, glad she got this out of the way now… but her tryin’ to use me to get out of this engagement? Tryin’ to guilt me into comin’ back because she doesn’t know what she wants? That’s… typical Jackie, and it… that’s not what I want.” You nodded, staring at him, unsure of what to say. He’s sure. I’m sure he loves me, but… what if…

 “She’s not gonna come here, is she? She’s not going to try to…” He widened his eyes, the hand on your leg tightening.

 “I didn’t even think of that, but…” He licked his lips. “I don’t think so, no. I think… she’s got more important things to spend her money on.”

 “She bought you that guitar after a week, Ryan. Spent all that money on something for you when she could have used it on Lia or toward the divorce.” You looked down, away from him. “I’m not worried you’re going to go back to her, or worried that you… but Ryan? She shows up here and makes a scene? I can’t be…” He said your name, cheek cupped in his palm and you brought your eyes back up to his.  “I did the same thing, Ryan. I gave you that tip on the bridge and then -” He cut you off with his lips, sealing them over yours without warning. The rest of the sentence forgotten, you shifted closer to him, your own hand reaching out for his chest, flattening against it and spreading your fingers against the taut muscle. He pulled away just before you were breathless, shaking his head.

 “You didn’t. It’s not the same. You gave me a choice. You offered me a chance to get to know you, to… connect with you.” His hand moved up, pushing hair away from your face, fingers tugging on the strands. “And then you left - we both did. And we went on with our lives.” We sure did. “You didn’t ask me to stop, you didn’t expect it. An’ I’d never dream of asking you, which is why this… it works.” His words made sense, but you still didn’t believe him wholly. “We lost out on a year because we’re both too stubborn to admit what we really want, that we want to be with each other no matter what it takes but you’re not her, and I’m not… I’m ready. I could tell you I’m leavin’ tomorrow and you wouldn’t make it a big deal.” He’s right. I’m not going to stop him. “But going? Right now? I can’t imagine it.” He leaned in again, tip of his nose resting against your cheek, his breath hitting the corner of your mouth. “I won’t do it. Not like I used to.”

 The breath you were holding finally came out in a loud exhale, your eyes squeezing closed as Ryan dropped his face so that his forehead was against your neck just like yours had been with him. “I don’t want you to regret this, Ryan. Regret not -”

 “I’m not goin’. Not to her. Not now, not ever. She’s a part of my life that was meant to be only that - a part of it.” He swallowed, kissing the skin of your throat before he straightened up again, both hands on your face and forcing you to look at him. “I wasn’t lyin’ when I told her - you’re everything to me.” He said each word clearly, his voice rising in the darkened room. “How could I regret that? Regret you?” He shook his head back and forth, rolling his eyes. You felt yourself smile, nodding slightly. He means it.

 “Yeah.” You agreed with him, deciding in that moment to let it go - to stop worrying about Jackie, about him leaving, about being enough. You stared at Ryan, whose eyes were trained on your face, watching every movement you made, and felt your body move toward him, one leg swinging over his so that you were perched on his lap, facing him. Both of your feet were on the floor and Ryan’s hands dropped from your face to your waist, settling at your hips to anchor you against him. Instead of touching his torso like you normally would have, you put your arms around his neck, leaning in so that you could kiss him gently. “That’s how I feel about you too, Ryan Brenner.”

 He had a past - and so did you. He had done things in his life that he wasn’t proud of, that he would have liked to forget… but who hadn’t? Jackie wasn’t going to fade entirely from his mind - she couldn’t, but unless you let her be otherwise, all she could ever be was a memory - one that had helped Ryan to figure out what he needed and wanted. And I should thank her for that. I won’t, but… His grip on you tightened, skin against skin beneath the fabric of the shirt you wore, and Ryan took a deep breath, lips seeking yours out again. “It’s late,” he mumbled, words lost against your mouth as he kissed you. “We should go to sleep.”

 “Yeah.” You cleared your throat. “You have work tomorrow, don’t you?” The sound of Ryan’s laughter carried through the silent house and your eyes shot all the way open as you sat straight up. “What’s so funny?” One of Ryan’s hands slid around to your lower back and you felt the roughend pads of his fingers pressing into your skin.

 “David came to see me play tonight, I’m actually off tomorrow.” You raised an eyebrow. “I know, right? I’m shocked too.” Ryan shrugged, shifting his hips on the couch beneath you without changing his grip. “Somethin’ about the materials not getting delivered on time, so…” He trailed off. “So we can sleep in, unless you’ve got somewhere you need to be?” With a shake of your head, you stood, pulling yourself off of Ryan with disappointment. Not the time. Not now.

 “Nowhere, Ryan. Just here with you.” Like it should be. He stood too, and you turned away from him, headed back toward the bedroom when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you backwards so that your back was pressed flat to his chest, his other arm crossing your chest and holding your shoulder tightly. “Oh!” You let out a surprised noise, but Ryan held on, speaking directly into your ear, his voice low.

 “You said you had somethin’ to tell me, right?” You nodded, eyes closing as you turned your head to the side, toward him. “Well, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s more exciting than what we just talked about… so I think we’re gonna get into bed and then you can tell me what’s goin’ on.” Despite the past few hours of the day, of the worry you felt, the unease at knowing how easy it had been for her to contact him, you couldn’t tell him no - and you didn’t want to. He was still interested in you, still wanted to hear about what was going on with you, about what was possible in the future. His hands were still on your body, holding you tightly to him - he wasn’t going anywhere, and neither were you.

 Within only a few minutes, you were back in bed, curled onto your side and facing him. The sheets were pulled up to your waists, and you’d removed his shirt from your body at his insistence, giving him unspoken permission to reach over and touch you, stroking his fingers over your bare back and ribs, yours doing the same to him, though they paid special attention to the tattoo on his side and the one on his shoulder. He made his way up your arm, again touching your face and your hair as he stared at you. What do you want to say, Ryan? What? Though you’d never tire of the way his hands felt on you, or the way his hooded eyes roamed your face and your chest, drinking every inch of you in, or the way he looked in the moonlight, long limbs and perfect face, half pressed into the pillow with his dark hair spread out, you were bursting with excitement - a feeling that you’d pushed aside in order to worry about him earlier. “Ryan, I…”

 “I’m waitin’.” He grinned, leaning in to kiss you again, teeth catching on your lower lip as he pulled back. “Tell me.” You moved closer, your hand dropping to his hip, fingers slipping beneath the elastic band at his waist without prompting. Oops. He didn’t stop you, instead sliding his hand down your side, barely touching you until he got to your thigh, pulling it toward him and urging you to hook it over his. “Well?” There was barely space left between the two of you and you took a deep breath, chewing nervously on your lower lip.

 “I got an email today from Lori.” You swallowed. “All of the pictures sold, Ryan. Every single one of them.” He grinned. “But Lori… she said that one of her friends owns galleries of her own and… she wanted my information, Ryan. She… Lori, I mean, thinks her friend wants me to…”

 “More shows?” He spoke quietly, moving his head on the pillow so that it was closer to yours. “Another gallery? More people seein’ your work?” You nodded. “That’s great, you’ll have to go take more pictures in some new places.” Yeah…

 “About that, Ry…” You trailed off. “She… the friend… it was the picture of you that got her attention.” He froze. “Yeah. I know, right? I haven’t emailed her back yet, I wanted to talk to you first, but… she’s got a gallery in San Francisco, Ryan… and one in Paris.”

 “Paris?” You nodded at the way the word sounded coming out of his mouth, but saw the look in his eyes, the slight distance in his expression. “That… great. You’ll love that, you’ll…” He frowned. “You’ll be gone a long time.”

 “No.” You watched him pause again before you continued. “I told you, Ryan, in Vegas… Paris was beautiful, but I have no interest in going back alone.” His lips parted as he stared at you. “It’s lonely there. I’m not going without you.” The look on his face changed as he listened to you. “If I go, you go. Gotta show you the real Eiffel Tower, right?” He nodded once, leaning in to kiss you once more, and just before his lips landed on yours, you spoke again, so quietly that you weren’t sure he’d heard you. “Good thing you sent out that passport information when you did, hmm?”

 Ryan laughed quietly, the vibrations from the action felt as he kissed you thoroughly, pushing you onto your back atop the sheets. This is everything.

---

[something-tofightfor]

Just a Place - Part 4

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader

Word Count: 5225

Rating: M (language, some touching)

Summary: After moving to Charleston, you and Ryan settle into a comfortable routine - and it’s surprising to both of you. 

** You will not understand a darn thing in this if you haven’t read “Neon Lights”, which can be found on my masterlist page **

Author’s Note: We’re getting closer. 

Tag list:  @traeumerinwitzhelden @mfackenthal @songtoyou @obscurilicious @elanor-of-imladris @thesumofmychoices @suchatinyinfinity @audreychaz @benbarnestongue @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @the-blind-assassin-12 @ms-delos @lexxierave @dreams-with-thoughts

POV: Ryan

 He was unlocking the front door when his phone rang, and Ryan hurried inside, dropping the bags he was carrying onto the floor unceremoniously before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out the device. “Hey, you.” He answered with a smile, falling onto the couch and kicking his shoes off. “How are you?” You grinned at him on the screen, pulling the phone away from your face so that he could see more of you - and the scenery behind you - and Ryan laughed, nose crinkling. “So that’s where my hat went.”

 “Couldn’t help it, Ry. First trip away from you, I had to bring something of yours with me.” You reached up with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone to touch the brim of his hat and he watched with a smirk as your fingers found the exact same hold on it as his typically did while you pushed it up, allowing him to see more of your face. How did I find her?

 “Looks better on you than it does on me anyway.” With another laugh, you stuck your tongue out at him, but he could see the blush rising in your cheeks. “How’s work?” You sighed and he saw that you were sitting on the balcony of your hotel room, skyscrapers behind you.

 “It’s fine, they’re having me photograph the progress on some construction project for a park they’re re-building on Bainbridge Island, so I’m riding the ferry back and forth every day because the offices are in the city… and there’s more stuff to take pictures of here on my own.” You stood, and Ryan watched your face disappear as you turned the camera around, showing him the view from your room. “Space Needle’s off over there, Pike Place Market is over there…” you sighed, turning the camera back and he caught the momentary lapse of guarding your emotions as you frowned before you put the smile back on your face, an honest but somewhat vacant look in your eyes. “It’s lonely here, Ryan.” I hear what you’re not sayin’.

 “Here too.” Ryan shrugged, running his hand through his hair and felt himself breathe a sigh of relief as your eyes widened at his admission, following his movement. “But… you’ll be home in a few days and I’m keepin’ myself busy, and so are you.” Raising an eyebrow as you settled back onto your chair, he continued. “Got another job.”

 “You did?!” He nodded, and you continued, the light returning to your eyes. “Doing what, Ryan?”

 “Construction, actually. I’ll be helpin’ a local contractor three or four days a week.” He continued, explaining how he’d met the man - David -  the previous night at the bar where he was gigging, striking up an easy conversation between sets that had led to the men - and David’s girlfriend, Lauren, having a beer together while Ryan took a break. “Said he wants to see how it goes for a two week trial period, but he’s looking for someone long term, and it’ll keep me busy during the day and free most nights so I can keep playin’.”

 “That’s great, Ryan. You’re good with your hands, smart with building things, it’s perfect.” He felt relief that you were accepting of the job - but why wouldn’t you be? In the few weeks that you’d had to settle into Charleston, you hadn’t pushed him to go out and look for full time work, telling him that whatever happened happened, that he’d find something, and that until it happened, playing in bars and going into different music shops to post fliers advertising that he gave lessons was more than enough. ‘It’s not going to happen overnight, Ryan. We’re fine for now’ had been your words, and even though he’d hated sitting idle, you’d been right, like you often were. Without saying it, you’d said what he needed to hear: moving in and settling down was going to be an adjustment period for him, and you were willing to let him take his time no matter how long it took. He had a sneaking suspicion that you were still waiting for him to bolt, to decide that he still wanted to travel, that being in Charleston wasn’t enough, and so you didn’t want to spook him, but for him, it was more than enough - you were more than enough.

 He’d had no desire to leave, no itch to jump, no motivation to anything but what he was doing with you. You were still learning each other, still getting used to the habits that each of you had, but it was a lot easier than Ryan had thought it would be, especially after what he’d been through previously. “I mailed out that stuff for my passport, by the way.” Ryan was going to wait to tell you until you’d arrived home, but the sad look in your eyes as you’d flipped the camera back had changed those plans, and he wanted to do something else to cheer you up. “Said it was gonna take up to twelve weeks to get here, so I wanted to get it out as soon as possible.” The smile on your face was genuine - and completely and totally for him, and Ryan couldn’t help but smile back. “Maybe next time you have to leave the country, I can go with you. No more solo trips across the globe.”

 “Oh, of course. That… damn, Ryan. That’s going to be...” You shook your head, biting down on your lip and he felt his heart thump. God, I miss her. He heard a knocking on your end of the line and you groaned, shaking your head. “That’ll be Amelia, my contact… we’re supposed to head out and catch the ferry over so that I can take a bunch of late afternoon shots.” You stretched, carrying the phone with you as you walked back through your hotel room and opened the door, greeting the woman. “Hey, Amelia, come in. I’m just talking to Ryan, let me say goodbye and we can go.” He caught a glimpse of a dark haired woman and then your face filled the screen again, a sad smile on your lips. “I’ll give you a call later tonight when I get back if that’s alright?” He nodded. “Not playing tonight, are you?”

 “Nope, tonight’s a night off, I’ll be around here. Might try to write somethin’ on the patio, maybe head over to the beach.” You nodded, pausing and before you could speak, Ryan beat you to it. “I love you.”

 “Love you too, Ry. I’ll talk to you soon.” As you hung up, Ryan set his phone down onto the coffee table, looking at it with one eyebrow raised. He hadn’t wanted to swap out his old phone, but he knew that it made sense for him to trade it in for a smartphone. Not only would it allow him to FaceTime with you while you were apart, but he could also record on it, taking videos or recording voice notes with lyrics whenever the mood struck him. He still used the portable recorder to document while at gigs, but only having to worry about carrying one thing with him most times was something he was still getting used to, even though he liked the convenience. The phone also allowed him to upload videos to YouTube, and at your insistence he’d started social media pages to promote his music - and where he’d be playing and performing.

 You’d been in Charleston for just under a month total and though you were adamant that you didn’t want Ryan to pay for his share of the rent - or for the cost of the new phone - until he’d found steady work, he was unwilling to sit back and pay for nothing so you’d compromised. Ryan was paying the electric and water bills along with his portion of the phone bill and half of the car insurance and groceries, and the bills made him feel like he was contributing, like he was pulling his own weight. And now with this new job, I’ll be able to do even more. Ryan didn’t mind being busy, didn’t mind having multiple jobs, and playing music wasn’t a job for him - it was a hobby that just so happened to help him out financially.

 He had one client for lessons; a 14 year old kid named Joseph that had asked for guitar lessons for his birthday and whose parents had eagerly called Ryan back after speaking to Melissa’s parents, to Kenny and Maria and to Jack. He was playing at bars throughout the city, too, on rotation at three different ones, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before he was offered a more permanent gig at at least one of them - or at a different one, if someone stumbled upon him busking, which he still did at least once or twice a week, too. The new job would round things out nicely, giving him a more substantial chunk of hours worked each week, a larger income… and though he’d thought that he would feel trapped with the permanence and responsibility, he felt relieved - felt happy… and felt excited, because it meant he could start not only pulling his own weight, but he could start saving again. You never made him feel guilty for the way he spent or earned his money, but he wanted to do more than simply get through the days - he wanted to live, to be able to do things with and for you - and himself - when he felt like it.  

 It had surprised Ryan how easily Charleston had become normal for him, how waking up in the same bed as you with no need to go was a relief, and finding a job didn’t seem like a challenge the same way that it had in Utah. He knew that it had a lot to do with you being there with him - and just as much to do with himself, with the way that he felt about his future and what he needed to do to be happy. I wasn’t ready then. I am now. If he’d wanted to leave, Ryan knew that you wouldn’t stop him, that you’d ask if there was anything you could do for him, that you’d tell him you’d be there when he got back, if he decided to come back - even though his name was on the lease and on the bills. It’s different. So different with her. You weren’t trying to keep him in one place, you were simply giving him the option to stay and the opportunity to figure things out at his own pace.

 You being the first one to leave had surprised you both, but the opportunity to go to Seattle had presented itself almost without warning. You’d brought it up to Ryan quietly while laying in bed, telling him if he wanted you to pass on it you would. Ryan had pulled you onto him, his arms wrapping tightly around your bare back as he kissed your shoulder, convincing you that the 10 day trip would give you a chance to gain another client as well as personal experience, that he’d be waiting when you got home, that it was fine for you to go. “After all,” he’d said, pushing the hair away from your eyes and tightening his hold on you. “We can’t be together all the time, right? We’re both gonna do what we love, but we got this place to come back to.”

 He’d dropped you off at the airport a few days later, and in the six days that you’d been gone, Ryan had been busy, finishing with the unpacking, making sure nothing around the house needed work, writing, singing and even recording. Though he missed you like crazy, he was enjoying the fact that the had somewhere to himself, somewhere to call home. He’d updated his driver’s license, updated his address and, with your permission, reached out to a few friends, letting them know where he was and what he was doing, telling them that if they needed a place to stay in Charleston, they could call him. Matt and Jack had been two of those people, and while Ryan hadn’t reached out directly to Georgie, he’d gotten an update on his former friend from Jack, hearing that Georgie was in Texas - just like he’d planned. Good for you, Georgie. Keep goin’. He was still upset with the man, but couldn’t let it bother him - Georgie had made his choice, just like Ryan had.

 Leaning forward, Ryan picked the phone back up off of the table and stood, putting it back into his pocket before walking over to the dropped bags, which contained a few new shirts, a pair of jeans to replace the ones he’d be wearing to work and some groceries, carrying them deeper into the house. Put these away and then I’m gonna go play.

 But 40 minutes later, when Ryan made his way into the spare bedroom where you’d set up your laptop and desk along with your desktop computer and printer, he stopped in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Your dad’s guitar was on the stand as usual, his on one next to it, and Ryan looked between the two instruments, frowning. Stepping fully into the room, he sat down at the desktop, powering it on and turning around in the chair to face both instruments. “What’s goin’ on, Ryan?” He frowned again, reaching out for his guitar, fingers closing momentarily around the neck to lift it. “No.” Ryan removed his hand, taking a deep breath. “Not tonight.” He left the Gibson on its stand and opted to pick up your guitar instead, fingers stroking along the neck for a few seconds before he settled it across his knee, turning back toward the desk and clicking open the webcam icon to record. Alright, Brenner. Let’s go.

 He took another deep breath, closed his eyes and settled his fingers on the strings, the weight of the guitar comforting him. Though he took frequent breaks, Ryan played until the sun came up before collapsing onto your side of the bed with his aching fingers holding tightly onto your pillow.

 ---

 POV: You

 Charleston wasn’t home, but it felt more like home than Philadelphia had for the last five years you’d lived there, and you and Ryan had only been in the city for three months. Hurricane season was in full swing, and though the city hadn’t seen more than increased rainfall and some wind from any of the storms, you’d gotten some great photos, and Ryan had written two incredible songs, motivated by the changes in the weather and the area in general. He’d taken a short trip - by bus - to Jacksonville a week or so after you’d gotten back home from Seattle to meet some friends and play for a few nights, but he’d been back before you had a real chance to miss him, the sound of his key turning in the lock making you feel the same way his songs did. Work had called you to Nebraska in the middle of August, and though Ryan had expressed interest in going with you initially, some friends of his had let him know they’d be in Charleston for a few days, and he’d opted to stay back and see them, which you hadn’t been upset by.

 Each time you parted, you didn’t say goodbye - keeping up the routine that he’d started in Vegas - you instead whispered things like “see you soon,” and “be back before you know it” as your lips moved against each other’s, or over skin, fingers trailing up and down arms or laced tightly together. He’d made it longer with you than he had with Jackie, had made more progress at a ‘typical’ life than you had ever imagined he would, and the things you argued about were so normal that it didn’t seem real some days - it was too easy to be real, you thought some days. Sipping on your iced coffee as you sat at the cafe table and checked your email on your laptop, you thought back to the things that you and Ryan had argued about in your time in South Carolina, an unconscious smile on your lips.

 He left too many cups in the sink or on the counter. He balled up his laundry and re-wore clothing instead of washing it right away. You insisted on using AC when the humidity was at 100% and the temperature was in the 90s, while he preferred the use of fans. He didn’t see the point in treating himself to something unnecessary like a new phone or a spare memory card for his recorder, even though you had sound logic for both. He didn’t want to let you take him out for treats like ice cream or dinner on warm nights. You forgot to press record one night when you’d gone to watch him play, which meant missing out on a new song idea and some changed lyrics - which he’d remembered the following day and resulted in him lifting you from your chair and carrying you to bed as an apology. It was simple things - tiny things - things that you and Ryan would work out over time, but it made the relationship more real for you because you’d never had those things before, or even wanted them… and you knew he hadn’t, either.

 Ryan never walked out on you, never left truly angry. Sure, you’d both left rooms after arguments, allowing each other to cool off on your own, or stepped outside, curling up in a chair on the back porch while you both settled down, waiting for the right time to apologize or to explain yourselves. You knew that he’d had blow ups with his friends - and with her before, and didn’t want to be responsible for another, like you’d been with Georgie, or for ruining his day. You didn’t think he’d leave, because if he was going to, he already would have… but you still didn’t want to be just another bad taste in his mouth or a reminder of why he’d spent so long alone - and why he preferred it. “Holy shit.” You clicked on the final email you had to check and your eyes widened behind your sunglasses as you read through it.

 Your gallery display in Philadelphia had been dismantled at the beginning of September - you and Ryan had gone back for two nights at the end of August, sitting in the building late into the night together, him playing guitar while you signed each photo that had been spoken for along with the remaining pieces just in case - but the people who owned the building and organized the shows had asked to keep the image of Ryan, which you agreed to, shrugging your shoulders and explaining it to him simply again: “I’ve got the real thing right in front of me every day. Other people need to see that picture.” Selling it wasn’t an option for you - the way you felt about him didn’t have a monetary value, but letting other people see it? You wanted them to know, to have an idea of what you saw each time you looked at him - of the love you felt for the man that you had literally stumbled upon by accident.

 The email was from Lori, telling you that all of the sold pictures had been shipped out to buyers - and that every single piece had been spoken for in the end. It wasn’t the information about the profit you’d made even after the gallery took their cut that shocked you, though the amount was more than you’d dreamed you’d ever see from your hobby, it was the last few lines of the email that had you widening your eyes and removing your sunglasses, leaning in to ensure that you were reading correctly. One of the buyers was a friend of mine from California that operates her own gallery in San Francisco and a second in Paris. She was impressed with your work, and asked for your contact information… I’m thinking she’s going to ask you to exhibit for her the same way you did for us. You’re an impressive photographer, but it was the image of Ryan that truly stuck with her, and I think she’d like to see more of those - more of him. I hope you don’t mind that I passed along your information. If you’re ever interested in working with us again, please feel free to reach out - and if you end up somewhere in Europe, let me know!

 Without responding to the email, you shut your laptop and slid it back into your bag, grabbing your coffee cup and standing. I need to tell Ryan. You made your way back to the car, heart pounding. Is this what he feels like when people tell him they love his music? The drive home passed by in a blur, but when you arrived back at the house, it was dark and silent, though it was the middle of the afternoon. “Ryan?” You called his name softly as you moved toward the bedroom, thinking that maybe he was napping on his day off from working with David, since he was scheduled to play at the Charleston Pour House, one of his regular locations, that night.

 But the bedroom was empty, and so was the second bedroom, and Ryan wasn’t in the office or on the back porch. Both guitars were on their respective stands, but you felt uneasy, even as your fingers reached out to Ryan’s instrument, the strings playing softly under your fingers. Where are you, Ryan? Plugging your laptop back in, you sent him a quick text, letting him know you had something important to tell him when he got home, and busied yourself with laundry and cleaning, trying to keep yourself occupied. By five, Ryan still hadn’t responded, and you grabbed your purse and keys after sending him another message, telling him that you were going grocery shopping for the week and that if there was anything he needed or wanted, to let you know.

 You turned your phone’s ringer on, aimlessly pushing the cart up and down the aisles and checking items off of your list, but all you could think about was where Ryan could be without his guitar and why he wasn’t responding. He’s not gone, he would have taken the guitar. The phone stayed silent throughout your trip, and when you pulled back into the driveway a little after seven, you were relieved to see that the porch light was on. He’s home. Opening the front door, you called out to him again, but the interior lights were still off, and the house was cool and quiet. Dropping the bags onto the counter, you sprinted down the hall and into the office, Ryan’s name carrying through the open space.

 His guitar was gone, as were the hard case he’d last used during the move from Philadelphia to Charleston and the recorder that had been laying on the surface of the desk earlier. “No.” your voice sounded foreign to your ears, and as you collapsed into your desk chair, staring at the empty stand, you felt tears welling up in your eyes. He didn’t leave you, don’t be stupid. After giving yourself a few minutes to wallow, you stood, heading to your bedroom and hesitantly opening the closet door, dreading what you’d find. With a sigh of relief, your hand tightened on the handle. His clothes are still here. His boots. His pack. But that revelation only brought more questions, because it meant that he’d come back, gotten the guitar and left again without saying anything to you. This isn’t like him. Something’s wrong. You walked back into the kitchen and then out the front door, carrying in the rest of your groceries in two trips, putting them away on autopilot. You sent him a final text message at 8 pm after forcing yourself to eat dinner and before heading into the shower to wash away the stickiness of the day - I’m home, Ry. Whatever is going on, I’m here. I love you. That done, you collapsed onto the couch, huddled under a blanket with the TV on low.

 You fell asleep before 10 without a response from Ryan, the TV the only light within the house, and woke up once when you heard a car door slam, falling back asleep as you realized it was for the neighbors without even checking the time. The sensation of being lifted woke you a second time, and your eyes flew open at the familiar scent of the person holding you. “Ry?” Your sleepy voice elicited a low chuckle from him, and he tightened his hold on you as you leaned into his shoulder, one arm going around his neck. “You’re home?” He was carrying you down the hallway to the bedroom, moving effortlessly through the dark.

 “Yeah.” He spoke quietly, but you heard the unease in his voice, even as his fingers tightened against your hip. “‘M here.” You sighed in relief, pressing your lips to his neck before you could stop yourself. “You fall asleep waitin’ for me?” You mumbled a reply to him and he laughed again as he eased you into a standing position, his arm staying around your waist. “Get ready for bed.” He leaned in, lips against your cheek for a long moment as both of your arms went around his neck, holding him close. “Wha-”

 “I thought you left, Ryan. I thought you were…” He sighed, turning his head so that he could rest his cheek against yours, the hand that wasn’t on your lower back moving around to cradle the back of your head, fingers moving through your still damp hair.

 “Just went and played my set, that’s all.” He rocked back and forth slightly, holding you close, and you could feel his heart beating, the irregular rhythm at odds with what he was saying to you and the tone he was using to say it. “C’mon, let’s get ready for bed, I’ll tell you what happened.” Something happened. I knew it. You nodded, pulling back from Ryan and looking into his eyes, the only light in the room coming from the streetlight outside and casting shadows across his face. “Promise.” You felt his hands drop from your body, pushing you gently toward the bathroom, and as you walked in to brush your teeth, you heard him moving around the room behind you, opening drawers and the closet.

 When you traded places - him walking past you into the bathroom carrying folded clothing as you went into the bedroom and perched on the edge of the bed - Ryan offered you a small smile but nothing more. What is going on? You waited silently, hands clasped together in your lap until he’d reentered the room, shirtless and wearing only a pair of boxer briefs. “I feel overdressed.” You raised an eyebrow at him and Ryan shook his head, finally giving you a real smile as he took the few steps toward you, climbing into the bed and laying on his side on top of the blankets. You were still sitting on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor and facing away from him when you felt Ryan touch your back, the fingers of his left hand flat against your skin beneath the t-shirt you wore.

 “You’re in my shirt, you’re not overdressed.” His voice was low, and as he spoke his hand climbed, the rough skin of his fingertips calming you inch by inch. “Lay down with me.” You moved slowly, turning your body and pulling your feet onto the bed before laying back, Ryan’s hand moving to the center of your stomach as you got comfortable, turning your head toward him. Neither of you spoke for a minute, you furrowing your brow as you looked at him, Ryan staring at you intently before lowering his gaze to your exposed stomach, where his palm was flattened while his thumb moved in slow circles, dangerously close to the waistband of your shorts. You spoke at the same time, cutting each other off. “I’m sorr-”

 “Ry, what happ-” Both of you stopped, and so did Ryan’s hand as you rolled onto your side, facing him. There was another pause and you shook your head again. Talk. Just talk, don’t think about it. “Is everything OK?” He stayed quiet and you reached out, your fingers searching for the spot on his side that they’d touched hundreds of times; the inked lines and dots of the tattoo on his ribs. You couldn’t see it, but you knew the design as if it was permanently on your own body, and it was your favorite of his tattoos because of the meaning. The constellation itself wasn’t as important as the burst of lines below the center point of the tattoo; this was the cluster of stars referred to as The Wanderer, and the entire reason Ryan had chosen the tattoo for himself. You going to wander again, Ryan Brenner? Is this coming to an end?

 He didn’t say anything, just shifted closer to you on the bed, and then closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he moved his hand up the side of your body, fingers stopping their journey at the bottom of your shoulder blade, thumb extended forward toward the curve of your breast. He’s still touching me at least, it can’t be that bad. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer you earlier.” He spoke quietly but audibly, and as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you watched him wet his lips with his tongue, hair falling across his forehead. “I should have, but I wasn’t thinkin’.” You opened your mouth to reply but he stopped you. “Shh, just let me… fuck.” Ryan cleared his throat. “I came back to get my guitar before I went to the Pour House, turned the light on… thought it would be enough to let you know everything’s alright.” He laughed. “I know it wasn’t, but…” He bit down on his lip, closing his eyes. “I got a phone call today that I wasn’t expectin’ and it threw me.” Who? Georgie? Virginia?

 “Ryan, it’s fine, you don’t have to -” He pulled his hand away from your body and without speaking, brought it to your lips, pressing two fingers to them.

 “Please.” He stopped, lessening the pressure as you nodded, eyes wide. “This isn’t easy for me to say.” Oh no. He’s leaving. Something happened and he has to go and he’s going to leave, and - “Jackie called me today, and it… I didn’t want to tell you about it until I was sure…” Sure of what? You felt your heart sink as he spoke, hand freezing in place and each word like a hot knife twisting into your chest. He… “Not sure of how I feel about her, because I already knew the answer to that.” His voice was stronger now, his hand settled against your cheek, the thumb resuming its back and forth motion below your eye. “Sure of the fact that I could explain things to you without… worryin’ you.” What?

 “What did she want?” Your voice sounded small and weak, and you were ashamed of it. It’s been years, what does she… how… why? “How did she find you?” He chuckled, blowing out a breath.

 “She’s gettin’ married and wanted me to tell her not to go through with it.”

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