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No, all three of us. It's been too awkward, you know? At some point we have to just... deal with it.

Deal with it? What is there to deal with?

You mean besides everything?

I just want to do something nice, with both of you. What's wrong with that?

Nothing wrong until you attempt to fix things that aren't broken, my friend. Mattias is sensitive. Do treat him gently.

I could eat anything with how I am now so don't worry about me.

Ignoring the fact that something is broken doesn't mean it's fine, Oren. But the point here is that I miss the both of you and want to spend time with you instead of dancing around the subject.

...Very well then. Just tell me the time and date.

The day after tomorrow, around six. I'll bring some things over, there's not enough space at my place.

Alright. See you then.

[And, as promised, he'll have everything brought over before the appointed time-- though he does insist on having the apartment to himself to prepare (or, at the very least, the main part of it). The end result of his effort is a romantic-looking table setting, complete with candles, but done for three instead of two; he'd neglected to mention anything about the menu to them, but he remembers what he's asked Oren and Mattias before about what they liked back home and the food he's chosen reflects that.

He's tried to be thoughtful. He can only hope it's enough.

It's been too awkward for too long, and Ryan can't keep putting this talk aside. They've brushed it off before, when he brought it up with them individually, but the way Oren still flirts openly enough with Mattias makes it clear enough to him that he isn't only seeing things. The only trouble is that-- well, he's sure Mattias won't take it well if he says anything wrong.

But that's easy if he's careful, right?...

His fins flutter nervously when he finally calls them both to join him, webbed fingers fidgeting nervously with the tablecloth.]

-I hope it's not too much. I mean, I tried not to go overboard, but... y'know.

...so, um, have a seat?

[He'd been dreading this night, of course, but he had no idea what Ryan would have in store. A dinner was one thing, a conversation over it another, but this? This was too bold. Romantic lighting and a well set table cause his steps to slow as he enters the room, his hand brushing against the door frame.]

This is...

[Again, his eyes skim the room, and he dares to steal a glance at Mattias. His thoughts had changed, his feelings had changed, and of course he'd realized that by now. But this? This was taking a step in a direction without solid ground. It lacked control and placed his entire world at the edge of a cliff that was seconds from crumbling away.

Comfort and confidence melts away from his face as he lingers back, letting his gaze hang low.]

I shouldn't be here.

[The smell of spices fill the room, the air is warm, the light soft and the sight of Ryan waiting at the table sparks an overwhelming fondness. The intimacy is there, well established through careful attention he should find touching. Instead, he steps into the room, transfixed by the third chair and all too aware of Oren behind him.]

I don't understand. Ryan... What is this? [It must be a mistake, though he's struggling to figure how. Awful as he feels, he has no objection to what Oren mutters behind him. He's right. He shouldn't be here.] What are you doing?

It's...

[He falters for a moment, stumbling over his words. Ryan expected this to be horribly awkward, but on some level he'd been hoping against hope that it might go smoothly after all.]

Well, the holiday's supposed to be for spending time with people you care about, yeah? And we all care about each other, so...

...god, it sounds so lame out loud, doesn't it.

[He breathes out a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he gestures for them to sit.]

We've just never really all done this. Sat and talked together like we needed to. I thought that maybe we should, you know?

[Ryan sounded calm and sincere, and the setup had taken so much effort. He didn't doubt that Ryan cared for the both of them, but what troubled him was the way his words now clashed and mixed with earlier words. The text messages just prior had hinted at a dinner, a discussion, but not to this romantic level. Earlier words had questioned and pestered Oren on his feelings for Mattias, and now that he was no longer in denial, it clicked.

He stays close to the door frame.]

You don't understand, Ryan. A talk is one thing, but this...

[His eyes scan the room, hopping between lit candles and well set places at the table. Oren's hand grips more firmly at the door frame and he takes a step back, withdrawing almost like a frightened animal.

Still, his eyes finally land on Ryan's.]

It's too much. [Too much for Mattias, he means to stress, but he's not sure how well a simple look can do it. He tries to save this.] Spend it without me, and we'll speak another time.

Edited 2016-02-22 01:39 (UTC)

This [he gestures towards the table] isn't how you speak to people you care about, Ryan! This is how we talk. This is—[His arms fall, gaze dancing on the tile floor, looking for an answer]—ours.

How can—how can the three of us speak of anything like this? With this? [His breathing is shallow, his gut flipping. Oren has been forgotten, his words aligning with his own and that's all Mattias needs. Confirmation.

Mattias' brows furrow and his hands search with his mouth for words.] What are you trying to say?

[There's one chair too many at the table. It taunts him and tells him that he's not enough.]

[Oren's rejection of the entire setup isn't unexpected, not with what he's said before-- but it's also not what he assumed it would be. Ryan's brow furrows into a worried frown with Oren's words, with the looks he's being given-

-and his expression falls completely for a moment at Mattias's reaction, almost startled by it. Ryan has barely even started to try, and already Mattias is taking it worse than he'd imagined.]

I-

[Searching Oren's face doesn't help, and Ryan meets his eyes with a helpless look. What else is there to do but keep going, now that he thinks Mattias sees what's going on?]

It's still ours, Mattias, it is, but I-- I know I'm not the only one you want. You've both confessed to it. [There's hesitance in his voice and eyes both, ear fins fluttering in distress.] But neither of you will talk about it and I- shit, I don't know. I don't know why, or what to think, alright?

[It all tumbles from his mouth in a rush, like he's pulled the cork on whatever bottle he's tried hard to keep those thoughts in, and though he's well aware that there's no undoing it Ryan still has to fight the immediate urge to try. To say he didn't mean it, anything. Instead, he swallows hard and forces himself to look at Mattias.]

...I don't know how else to talk about it.

[He wants to disappear. A couple steps back will remove him from the room, but to think that it would cure the chaos already within it was naive. He stares as the world cracks around him once more with the worry and hurt in Mattias' gestures, the sight of only his back, his pleading to Ryan.

I know I'm not the only one you want. You've both confessed to it.

His head snaps back to Ryan and his gut sinks. He's left reeling through the end of Ryan's words, but he can't bear to wait and see how Mattias responds to that.]

What kind of insecurity must you hold to address these things you've no idea about?!

[His arm swings out, and he presses past Mattias to gesture angrily at Ryan. His voice raises slowly, shaking in its intensity.]

Have you never considered reason for our lack of speech? For his insistence despite all else? Look what you've done! How is he to trust a man who can't trust him in return?

You were— [He pulls back, pressing a hand to his face and smearing down it as he turns around.] You were meant to be that for him!

[Trust. He was supposed to be someone Mattias could trust. It was the only good thing he could see, that he could convince himself with— trust, now broken!]

[Ryan's words are timed by the sinking of Mattias' shoulders. Ryan bumbles on, too lost in his anxiety to notice the weight of his truths. It was one thing for Mattias to suspect it—between Oren's fond smiles and doting touches, it was hard to ignore. Yet hearing it spoken only solidified it into something true and real. Something that proved itself in the way Oren rushed to his aid, shouting all the things he thinks he would have said if his tongue could move, if his mouth would obey him. Instead he looks on, crestfallen and claustrophobic in a room with one chair more.

For a moment, while Oren shouts in slowed time, Mattias thinks of what he did wrong. There were so many threads, so many moments of silence he should have disrupted and so many words he should have smothered with silence. It was a mistake to be truthful with Ryan. His relationship with Oren had been extraneous. Or maybe he should have simply told him more. Would the reason for their separation convince him?

And what had he done that Ryan needed convincing at all?

Throat thick, he meets Ryan's eyes. Oren has stopped shouting and Mattias' soft voice cuts through the last words left hanging in the air.]

He stabbed me. Back home. That's why it's done. That's why... [His throat becomes too thick. His fingers wander for something to hold onto and, despite his best efforts otherwise, his gaze lands on Oren.]

I'm... I'm sorry. [For what? The question suffocates him. The air feels tight. His skin pricks. The room is constricting and his lungs don't have the space to breathe. He doesn't want to feel their eyes on him. He doesn't want to be in the center of this, doesn't want to hurt either one or be hurt by them.

He's out the door before he even realizes, rushing through the church in fear of what he's left behind.]

[Those accusations are a slap in the face, leaving him wide-eyed and frozen; his expression shifts gradually, mouth set into a thinner line as more focus returns to him, and he distantly realizes his hands are shaking. Everything is.]

What...

[His voice dies in his throat when Mattias's eyes meet his, heart sinking, and that admission may as well be a stab itself. He thinks the same way Oren does, then, if Mattias didn't have enough trust to tell him something that important. And if he doesn't trust Ryan he must think Ryan doesn't either, right?

One moment he's about to object, then the next he's staring at Mattias's back, watching him leave. Mattias won't even let him try to explain--

He's shaking as he turns to Oren, ear fins flared out completely, and he can't tell if it's from panic, fear, or anger.]

That's not what- why would you--

[It's choked off with a shake of his head as he turns to run after Mattias, stumbling over his own webbed feet at first. That can come later. Right now, he has to fix this, and he sounds almost frantic as he shouts after Mattias.]

Wait! Mattias, wait, he's wrong, please-

[The shout echoes behind him and are followed by the wet slap of Ryan's feet. The logical part of him knows Ryan can't outrun him and he can already imagine Ryan hunched over and panting. But it doesn't matter. No logic is listened to, no rationality heeded as Mattias plows through the church. His hips smack pews, his arms bump columns and a wealth of bruises blossom unrecognized on his skin. It doesn't matter. None of it matters so long as those footsteps grow distant and his two men drift away.

They'll ask him to make a choice, me or him, and he would have to choose. Oren would feel abandoned. He would change, become a shell of his former self–the man Mattias had fallen in love with all those months ago. Ryan would feel betrayed, maybe proven right. He had estimated unfaithfulness and what would selecting Oren do other than prove him right?

It's not something he wants to face. It's not something he ever wants to face and yet each wet footstep upon the stone brought it closer. Escape was mandatory. To where, he didn't know. The answer would come so long as it came far away from this and its everything.

The door opens as he slams his shoulder into it and Mattias stumbles into the late morning sun. The air floods his lungs and he can breathe again. His feet start to move; he begins his run anew. The air rushes by as his body shifts and cracks, remolding into the shape of a stallion. Four legs move faster than one and he uses them to run as far as he can.]

[He knows chasing Mattias is pointless-- but that doesn't stop Ryan from being gone for at least a few hours, returning home damp and exhausted. The water helped, but he's slowly drying, and after the exertion...

No, on second thought, he realizes he's worked up a bit of an appetite. He's still hydrated enough, but even so, curling up in the bathtub generally still helps him feel better.

It's much easier to avoid all of this if he just curls up under the surface, just to rest a little longer, and it doesn't take him long to give in to temptation and spend some quality sulking time in the bathroom.]

[The two had left him and he'd done nothing about it aside from move a chair and his place on the off chance that they'd return. Perhaps it could fix things, he'd thought, and left for the night. It hadn't fixed anything, of course.

When morning comes with no sign of Mattias, Oren doesn't wait for bad news to come. He dresses himself and heads out just in time for the end of Ryan's bath, knocking urgently on the door until it's cracked open. He shoves right in past him, eyes scanning the room.]

Where is he? Have you not found him yet?

[Perhaps his tone is a little too accusatory for his normal levels of composure, but he's still a little irritated that Ryan couldn't take his word on the handling of things. He walks around the church, looking around for clues of Mattias' presence.

Nothing.]

He's likely lost out there.

[When Oren shoves past him, Ryan hopes-- just for a moment-- that it's not what he thinks it is. That maybe Mattias had at least gone to him. He expects the answer that he gets, knows anything else was unlikely... but it still makes his fins droop for a moment.

-until Oren's words hit him, and they flare out as Ryan walks after him.]

You think I didn't try? I wasn't just sitting around all fucking day, I don't know what kind of person you think I--

[How is he to trust a man who can't trust him in return? That echoes right back through his mind, and Ryan cuts himself off.]

No. I do. And he's not here, so if you don't think I can be trusted to look for him either, you can keep going.

[His steps slow as Ryan begins an onslaught of pointed words. Oren laughs, bitter and quiet as he looks to the floor. Mattias hasn't been here. He'd known that the moment he woke up to silence. He'd promised he wouldn't leave him again, so there was that, but... Where had he gone?

As he fidgets with the end of his coat, he speaks.]

It takes so little for you to view yourself the victim. Were you not the one who left me without a word?

[Intention or not, it didn't matter. But before Ryan can respond to that, Oren raises his hand and waves it off.] It matters not. You must realize that the words I spoke were Mattias' thoughts from the moment you pressed forward with this.

My hesitation wasn't purely selfish.

[For once he wasn't being purely selfish. He drops the corner of his coat and turns, looking to Ryan.]

Tell me, do you still remember the way he ran?

[It's well-aimed, and while Oren doesn't leave him room for a response, his fins still twitch, face falling slightly as his eyes flick off to the side. It takes him a few moments to respond when Oren's finished speaking, and he's still not quite looking at him.]

You could've let me explain.

[Quieter than he means it to be. Ryan huffs out a breath and raises his voice, gesturing in the right direction.]

There. [It seems as if he's done, for a moment, but he abruptly speaks up again.] You were wrong, you know. I didn't mean anything like that. If you hadn't just started accusing me of shit--

[Ryan's laptop chirps (or whatever they do) with a new message. It's from Mattias.]

>are you there?

>i don't know where i am or
>or how to get back

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, COIN PRINCE. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 097.26.245.13 * Coin Prince has joined 097.26.245.13 <Coin Prince> And how secure is this communication, really? <Coin Prince>** Well, go on then, let's speak.

<faraday>

< Coin Prince >

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< Coin Prince >

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switches this to ACTION TIME

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IM ONLY EDITING BC I FORGOT I DELETED THAT OTHER ICON

ah-huh

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how do these always turn into text walls ugh

emotions also crap tag

no this is, I'm not retyping the whole thing

I'm so sorry for your loss teej rip that tag

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