Work Text:
"Ryan?"
It was five months later. Naim's hair was longer, shaggy around his ears. Ryan thought he looked so beautiful. Ryan was halfway out of their shitty minivan. They'd got it off marketplace for dirt cheap. They barely even drove it anywhere. Just slept in it. He was headed to work. Through some miracle, he'd gotten a job working as a part-time at the local petrol station during the night shift. Ryan would go to work, and Naim would stay at their new friend, Amy's apartment. They met her through begging for cash. She had been kind enough to offer them friendship, as well.
"Yeah?" he asked.
"Do you have the lighter?" he was biting the corner of his lip. Ryan wanted to kiss him.
Ryan pulled it from his pocket and flicked it on with his thumb. He held it up to his chin, feeling the heat warming him. He didn't flinch.
"You don't have to do that," Naim grumbled. "I know it's you. That's not what I'm worried about."
Ryan walked over to him and grabbed him by his forearms. "I'll be fine, Naim. Seriously. You don't have to freak out."
"I'm not freaking out," Naim's brows were furrowed together cutely. "I just — I.don't like the idea of you alone."
"Loads of customers were there last time," Ryan said. Naim didn't look convinced. Ryan sighed. "Look, babe, I'm not scared of it anymore, alright? It's just you. It never even comes inside. If it did, I'd know what to do."
"You'll text me if you see it?" Naim asked.
"Of course," Ryan squeezed at his biceps. "Hey, have you been getting stronger? These feel big. You're try'na take my role as the big guy in the relationship."
Naim scoffed, breaking into a grin and shrugging him off. "Fuck off, mate."
"I'm serious," Ryan said. He swung the car door open and headed outside. He then reached in his pocket and took a drag of his vape. "Hey, if it shows up I'm hiding behind those things. I'll need my big boyfriend to protect me."
"You better not," Naim was grinning, grabbing at his arms bashfully. They really were looking bigger. They'd both been doing a lot of heavy lifting.
"We should scrap it out," he mimed boxing Naim to demonstrate. "In the ring. Me and your guy. See who wins."
"Hot," Naim said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "He'd smoke you."
"No way," Ryan said. "I'd be overpowered by love. Like a pregnant lady lifting a car to save her kid."
"What the fuck are you on about?" Naim was laughing.
"Y'know, like — awh, really? You never watched those videos? Damn."
They were able to do this, now. Talk about things that weren't awful. Talk about awful things in a way that made them not so awful. Ryan felt as if he was discovering a new side to himself that he'd never known. He'd never thought of himself as funny until he'd learned how to make Naim laugh.
Naim walked Ryan to his work, where Amy was already standing waiting. She would walk Naim back to her apartment. They'd explained, incredibly vaguely, that they had gone through traumatic conversion therapy that led to them having to flee their town. This was enough of an explaination. It was strange, meeting kind people. Everyone had seemed to antagonise them in Bandi. She reached to hug them both, which still made them cringe. After so long with only each other, it felt strange to acknowledge another human's physical presence.
Ryan looked up to see his boss closing down for the night. Naim was looking, too. It was entirely empty. Ryan gave him a smile to calm him, his hand reaching to stroke Naim's back. Naim smiled quickly, fakely. Ryan leaned down to hug him and kiss him on the mouth, not caring who saw.
"It'll be alright," he promised. He reached down to squeeze Naim's hand.
"Do you have the keys?" Naim asked, bouncing on the heels of his feet and chewing the inside of his cheek.
"Oh— yeah," Ryan said. He reached into his pocket to hand them over to Naim. He turned to Amy. "We're parked in the free place down the bottom of the hill. Nobody's come to yell at us yet."
"Nice," she said. She smiled toothily at Naim. "You excited for our sleepover?"
"Yeah," Naim said nervously, tugging at his sleeves. His raincoat was oversized, so were his jeans. Ryan winked at him. "You'll call me? If anything happens?"
Amy was staring at them shamelessly. She wasn't judging them. Just looking. It was strange, being so transparent in front of another human.
Ryan reached to hold Naim's hand. "I will. I promise. I'll be alright, scaredy-cat."
Naim scoffed and rolled his eyes. They had to do this whole song and dance every time they separated.
"Bye, guys," he said. He stroked his finger along Naim's knuckles. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Naim said softly, like he meant it. It was just for them.
Truthfully, Ryan was scared. Every single time, there was a part of him that was fucking terrified. He knew that the reason Naim was acting like this was because the first shift ended Ryan had come home winded with fear. Naim had been teary-eyed and quivering. Nothing had even happened. It had just looked at him and banged against the window. Regardless, it had been fucking terrifying.
Ryan ghosted his hand over the weight of the lighter in his pocket as he walked inside. It would be alright, he told himself. Nothing was going to happen.
The shift was long, and quiet. Ryan spent half the time staring blankly at over saturated isles of snacks he could barely afford. The rows of foggy branded fridges. The floor was tiled. Square, blue and beige. It was so dark outside that he couldn't see beyond the gas pumps. The world seemed to fade away into black.
It showed up. It always did. It looked different. Sometimes Ryan wondered if it was angry at him, for killing it the night before he left. If it had any feelings or soul. Naim had said some shit like: "We need to learn how to live with them, if they're going to be with us forever." Ryan was trying to. It was difficult, mourning his own privacy. Redefining what it meant to be alone. No matter what, either 'Naim' or Naim was going to be watching him. It was a privilege for him to be able to choose the latter.
It didn't come near to him. It just called his name from behind the glass. It was much less violent, now. Despite being told that it gets worse as they get closer, it's violence had seemed to wain. Maybe it was because they weren't in Bandi anymore. Maybe it was because they accepted themselves or some shit. Maybe it was because Ryan wasn't as scared anymore.
Maybe it was because it looked like Naim, who was the kindest person he'd ever known. His other half. Maybe it was because he had to live, for the real Naim. Death wasn't an option. Leaving Naim alone would be the worst thing he could ever do. He loved him so deeply, so truly. So much that it hurt. This was why he could look at it without his fingers quivering. It was only Naim, he thought. It was just another version of him.
Ryan's shift ended at 5AM. He went to the 24-hour supermarket before returning to Naim to pocket some instant noodles and lube. He texted Naim telling him he was doing so. Naim had been messaging him throughout his shift.
Naim 💕🐍
u alright?
1:35 am
Me
Yup just super boring.
Me
Hows amy?
Naim 💕🐍
she's fine. she's not u.
Naim 💕🐍
is it there?
Me
Yea
Naim 💕🐍
what's it doing?
Me
Staring and shouting but its outside. Tryna get my attention yknow
Naim 💕🐍
ok
Naim 💕🐍
not me
Me
I know
Me
Ur algs?
Naim 💕🐍
worried but fine
Me
Ok
Me
Just think abt how i'm gunna fuck u when I'm back. Normally calms u down
Naim 💕🐍
omg fuck off
Naim 💕🐍
amy's right here
Naim 💕🐍
also no way u gotta sleep first
Me
Mayb i'll fall asleep inside of you
Naim 💕🐍
u need to get of ur phone u should be working
Me
Alr bye love u
Me
Try get some sleep ok
Naim 💕🐍
ok
Naim 💕🐍
text me if it does anything else
Me
❤❤❤
Me
Hey i'm just getting some essentials. Be back in 30ish. Love u miss u
5:12 am
Naim didn't respond. He must've been sleeping. Ryan's work dickies were stuffed with shit as he went to the self-checkouts. He bought some gum and a new lighter to avoid suspicion. Naim normally met him outside of his work. He had an alarm and everything. He checked his phone for the time, to see if he'd responded. He still hadn't.
Exhaustion left his body in favour of terror. He immediately dialed Amy's number when he left the store, tapping his foot nervously. She picked up.
"Hey, I'm outside BP, where are you?"
"I'm at the — wait, are you alone?" he felt hot anger rise inside him along with inside, cold-blooded terror. "Where is Naim?"
"He's at mine," she said. "He's asleep. Look, it took him ages to get to sleep and I didn't want to—"
"You left him alone?!" Ryan yelled without thinking. His heart-rate was skyrocketing, and he felt the need to sit down. "Fuck. Oh, fuck."
"What? He's alright, Ryan, he's just—"
"I fucking told you not to—" he started, raising his fists next to his head. He gripped his temple. "Alright. Stay where you are. We're going back to yours. Right fucking now."
He hung up before she could respond, and started jogging back to his work. With one hand gripping his phone, he dialed Naim's number.
"Pick up," he mumbled. "Fuck, please, Naim. Pick up."
It went to voicemail. Ryan wanted to throw his phone on the pavement. He felt tears well up in his eyes from anxiety. He started silently praying, whispering to God to keep him safe.
His work was only a couple minutes away. He saw Amy, standing in gingham PJs and a puffer jacket. He didn't even look at her, immediately walking past her.
"Ryan," she said. He could hear she was sorry. He didn't look back. He didn't want her to see the tears on his face. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I know that you guys have that thing, I just thought that you'd want him to sleep."
Ryan wanted to turn around and punch her. As he was walking, more and more tears started flowing. He couldn't speak if he wanted to. All that he could think about was —
"Ryan," she gripped his arm. "Are you alright? It's OK. My place is safe —"
"What about his alarm?" Ryan was fucking blubbering through his words, choking through tears. "Did he —"
"I put his phone in the other room. Hey, it's alright —"
She tried to hug him, but Ryan pushed her off of him to walk faster towards her apartment. Thankfully, she lived basically across from his work. It was part of the reason Naim had allowed him to accept the job, because he knew that he could be in a place that was nearby. When they reached the elevator, and Ryan stopped moving, he felt his body fighting him for the urge to cry. He was so fucking selfish. He should've never left Naim alone. He'd been so worried.
She led him to the apartment in silence. He wondered if she was frightened of her. He hated being like this. He hated being angry. His exhaustion mixed with the adrenaline of his fear made him feel as if his legs were moving without his brain directing them to.
The moment the door opened he rushed inside, calling for Naim. He saw him almost immediately, wrapped up in a duvet, in a state of deep sleep. Relief washed over Ryan so quickly that his knees nearly gave in. Ryan kneeled next to him, tapping his face softly. He watched the rise and fall of Naim's chest. He was breathing. He was alright.
"Naim?" he asked softly. Naim cracked his eyes open, groggily transitioning back to consciousness. His eyes were puffy with sleep. Ryan immediately wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in tight. "Fuckin' hell, Naim."
"Ryan?" Naim croaked out, disorientated. "Wha…?"
"I told you he was alright," Amy said tentatively, as if Ryan was an animal needing to be tamed.
From over Naim's shoulder, he growled at her; "You should've never fuckin' done that."
She rested her face in her hands, rubbing at her temple and turning away from him.
"What's going on?" Naim asked, words muffled in Ryan's work shirt. Ryan pulled back to look at his face once more. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to get the fuck out of there. "Why are you — what about my alarm?"
"Look, Naim," Amy began, "I'm sorry. I was only trying to help out, I didn't expect for Ryan to freak like that. I wanted for you to get sleep, and I —"
"You left me here?" Naim's voice broke, and he moved to rest on the pads of his hands. His eyes flew to Ryan, who stood to his feet.
"I told her that—" Ryan raised a finger at her, pointing rather aggressively.
"Ryan," Naim interrupted, voice firm. He rubbed at his eyes, moving to sit up on the couch. "You shouldn't be angry with her. It's alright. Nothing happened."
Ryan couldn't believe what he was hearing. His face suddenly burned with humiliation. "What? Naim, do you have any idea how worried —"
"I know, I know," Naim was speaking so calmy, as if he very clearly didn't know. He had his hands out in front of him, slowly pressing his palms down against the air to gesture for Ryan to calm down. "But I'm alright, aren't I?"
Amy wasn't saying anything, just staring at them. Ryan's chest was heaving with the weight of this emotional betrayal. "You were alone."
"So when you go off every other night on your own it's alright and I need to calm the fuck down, but when I—"
"You know that's not what I meant," Ryan cut him off. "That's fuckin' different. That's work."
"I'm not some damsel, Ryan," Naim moved to stand up, blankets falling to lay against the couch. "You really think that I can't handle myself for — what — five minutes?"
"So you don't wanna pick me up, now?" Ryan asked cruelly. "Why don't I just walk home alone? Huh? It's not like you—"
"I never fucking said that," Naim's voice raised overtop of Ryan's.
"Guys," Amy cut them off. "If you're gonna yell at each other, you seriously can't do it here. You have to get out. I have neighbours."
The two boys glared at each other wordlessly, before Naim turned to swiftly pack his shit away into his backpack. Ryan was delirious and furious, and then suddenly so horribly guilty he wanted to die about it. He hated nothing more than Naim angry with him. He went to wait at the door, his arms crossed around his body.
He heard Naim apologise to Amy for his behaviour, then move towards the door. Before he could grab him and try and apologise himself, Naim was striding ahead of him.
"Naim," he called out, running after him, who was speed-walking towards the elevator. Ryan gripped the door to stop it before Naim could close it on him. "Fucking hell, Naim. I'm sorry, alright? I was just really worried."
Naim didn't say anything, pressing the button to the ground floor and gripping his backpack to his front like a sheild. "Alright."
"Alright?" Ryan repeated. "Naim, that was really fucking scary."
Naim wasn't even looking at him, his eyes glued firmly to the wall. The elevator shifted, shaking slightly as it moved down.
"Naim," Ryan said hopelessly. "Naim, look at me. I got us groceries. We can go back home and chill out."
Naim shook his head wordlessly, sighing. "You are such a hypocrite."
"What the fuck does that even mean?" Ryan exclaimed as the elevator landed on the bottom floor and slid open.
"You're always going off on your own," Naim snapped as he walked. The moment they breached the sliding-door exit of the city apartment block, he stopped and spun around to face Ryan. Ryan realised then, that he his eyes were glossy with tears. All they seemed to do was cry. Naim raised a finger at him. "Don't you dare talk to me about being worried, alright? I'm worried. About you. All the fucking time. And I just have to suck it up and deal with it. Because — because I'm so fucked up I can't even get a job. And you're so —"
Naim was pushing his words out through tears by the end of it. Ryan dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around him. He held him as he cried. He felt he'd fall asleep, holding him like that. It was so nice to be so near to him.
"I know," he soothed, "Fuck. I know."
They slept all day in the back of that van. Ryan wished that they could be closer, when they slept. That he could crawl inside Naim's skin and wear him as armour. When they woke up, Naim made Ryan promise to give Amy flowers as an apology. Ryan agreed. He'd do anything Naim told him to, he realised. Anything. They kissed, and kissed, and kissed.
"Were you angry?" Naim asked into Ryan's mouth.
"Hm?" Ryan was idly playing with Naim's nipples. Naim gasped, jerking into the touch. Ryan hovered over him, leaning him back against the flattened leather car seat.
"Fuck," Naim groaned. "How angry were you? With her?"
"So fuckin' pissed," Ryan said, realising that Naim was starting to be a pervert about it. "I would've punched her. If she wasn't a girl, I mean."
"Yeah?" Naim echoed, aroused by this. "Would you have punched me?"
Ryan jerked back slightly, "What the fuck, Naim?No!"
"Would you?" Naim asked, gripping Ryan's arm. "Just — hit me. Slap me. If you were mad enough?"
Ryan licked his lips. Swallowed. "Dunno. Would you want me to?"
"Kinda," Naim confessed, kissing Ryan. He reached down to grope Ryan's hardening cock. "Is that weird?"
Sometimes, Naim needed fear. Controlled fear. Controlled discipline. It helped reel him out of the spiral of anxiety he got in. Ryan understood this. It was the most out-there comment he'd ever made, though.
"Probably," Ryan laughed. Naim had slid his hand into Ryan's pants, stroking him lazily. Ryan let his eyes flutter shut. Naim's legs were raised, pelvis tilted so that Ryan's crotch ghosted against his clothes ass. They both moaned. Ryan reached down to touch Naim's dick, which was harder than he'd anticipated. "I wouldn't ever punch you, Naim."
"No?" Naim gasped, hand loosening from Ryan's cock as Ryan touched him.
"Nah," Ryan said. "I don't think you want that at all. I think you wanna be treated like a princess."
"O-oh," Naim moaned, voice turning breathy. His body practically turned to putty at the words.
"That's it, isn't it?" Naim's eyes fluttered shut at Ryan's words. Ryan grabbed him by the chin. "None of that. Look at me. You wanna be taken care of, eyes on me."
Ryan could see Naim fighting to keep his eyes open. His face was red with pleasure. Ryan felt high off of control. "You gonna come?"
"Mhm," Naim whimpered, brows furrowed together.
"Don't do it yet," Ryan said, testing out something new. "I'm going to count down from ten, alright? You'll come when I tell you to. You don't need to think. You just will, alright?"
Naim nodded, barely taking in the words being said. Ryan fastened the pace on Naim's cock. "Ten. Nine — shh, I know, I know. You can do it. Eight. Seven. Six." Naim started whining, eyes slammed shut, squirming with the need to let go. "Hold on. Five. Four. You're ready? Three. Two. One."
Naim came harder than Ryan thought he'd ever seen. It was long, too. There was so much of it, Ryan could barely believe it. He looked so gorgeous, in the throes of overwhelming pleasure. Ryan couldn't help but kiss him. Naim was squirming away from the touch, and only then did Ryan realise that his hand was still moving. He started laughing, in awe.
"I can't believe you actually just came on command," he said, body shaking with it. Naim smiled, rubbing his eyes sleepily and pushing Ryan's weight off of him. "That was fucking awesome."
"I think I just came my brains out," Naim said, rubbing his face against the seat, against Ryan's shoulder. By the look of him, all glowy and fucked-out, Ryan believed him. He stared at him for a few moments. He was so gorgeous. He was all Ryan's. He barely knew what to do with it.
"You know…" Ryan began, tentatively. "You know I'd never actually hit you, right?"
Naim didn't say anything for a few moments. Didn't even look at him.
"You know that?" Ryan pushed, wanting to hear it. He sat up further, forcing it to be more than pillow talk.
"Of course," Naim mumbled. "I know you wouldn't. I'm just… I'm just fucked up, I think."
"I know," Ryan said. He didn't know what 'you' meant. He didn't want to think about it. He rubbed his thumb against Naim's cheek. "I am, too. Not that fucked up, though. I'd never hurt you. That's my worst fear. Hurting you."
Naim nodded. He clearly didn't want to talk about it. "Let's go back to sleep."
"Alright," Ryan said, falling down next to him. Naim's mind frightened him, sometimes. "I love you."
Naim took a moment. Even if he didn't say it back, Ryan would know he meant it. But still: "I love you."