Status: FINISHED.
For Always, Forever
Eight
Martin couldn’t take it anymore.
They kissed in the kitchen. They kissed in the bathroom. They kissed in the bedroom and, for fuck’s sake, they kissed in the living room where anyone could see them. Not that he had anything against Rian as a person, but it was getting really old watching him shove his tongue down Zack’s throat anywhere he could get away with it. It should have been him. He was the one that held Zack every night for two and a half months when he couldn’t sleep. He was the one that held Zack when the call came with his diagnosis. So it should have been him, really. It wasn’t fair that Rian got to swoop in out of nowhere and all of his previous sins were forgiven, no questions asked. He was the one that fucking loved Zack, not Rian.
So he took to sleeping when he knew both of them were awake, going out at night so he wouldn’t have to watch them do couple stuff. And if he had to be around them during the day, dammit, he was entitled to having a drink or two. Which really amounted to his own personal drinking game: Zack and Rian kissing in the hallway? Take a shot. Zack and Rian making out on the couch? Take two shots. Zack and Rian holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes in a totally insufferable way? Fuck, just finish the bottle. He didn’t care.
On the day Zack went for more tests to make sure his medications were working, Martin settled himself in the living room to watch the first season of Lost on D.V.D. It was one of those rare occasions where he could actually be in the living room without having to worry about what he would do if the happy couple came in and started being all... couple-y. He was halfway through the first episode when Rian sat down on the couch beside him and wordlessly handed him a beer. Well, that worked. Maybe they could have a kind of truce. He was already nicely buzzed, so it didn’t make a difference anyway. It wasn’t like Rian and Zack were having sex; the mixed blessing of being one of Zack’s best friends was having to hear about his sex life – thank God, Martin thought – or lack thereof. He didn’t even want to picture it.
“So hey,” Rian said.
Martin shrugged in reply. He wasn’t in a very talkative mood. “Thanks for the beer,” he said.
“Thanks for taking care of Zack,” Rian said. Martin balled his hands into fists. That was it? No ‘Thank you for holding my boyfriend every night while he cried because I was off being an asshole, and by the way, you’re welcome for snatching him right out from under you like that, you asshole’ or anything? All he got was a beer? Great. “Are you okay?” Rian asked.
“I’m mad at you,” he said, and that was how it started.
Rian made a face. “Me? What’d I do?” Martin huffed. How could he honestly not know? “Martin, man, I’m worried about you. I mean, you’ve been drinking an awful lot lately. Is everything okay?”
Martin clenched his jaw. “No, everything is not okay.” He gulped down some of his beer. “And no, I don’t want to talk about it. I’m mad at you, everything sucks, the fucking end.” He crushed the empty beer can with his hand, but it didn’t make him feel any better. Actually, it kind of made him feel worse, because now his hand fucking hurt. “Zack shouldn’t have forgiven you.”
“I know,” Rian said. “You love him, don’t you?”
That was all it took to break Martin Johnson. “Of course I love him, you fucking twat! And I am so fucking sick of you being all over him all the time and fucking flaunting it. I can’t change the fact that he chose you over me, but it would be nice to not have to hide out in my fucking room every second of the day because you can’t stop shoving your slimy little tongue down his throat. He deserves way fucking better than you, Dawson – especially after all he’s gone through. Who was the one that held him every night until his test, huh? Was that you? I didn’t fucking think so.”
“Then maybe you should man the fuck up and tell him how you feel,” Rian spat angrily. “I get it; you’re pissed and you’re jealous of my relationship with Zack. Okay, that’s fine. Whatever. I don’t even care. You were there for him for two months? Well, I’ve been there for his entire fucking life, Martin. Forgive me for thinking that that might mean something to him.”
There was a crack of bone hitting bone, and it took Martin a minute to realize he’d punched Rian. Suddenly, it wasn’t an argument between friends anymore; it was a battle royale-style fight with both of them rolling on the floor, clawing at each other and throwing punches. “You fucking asshole,” Martin growled. “You don’t deserve him.” Rian grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
“Like you do,” Rian hissed. “Face it, he doesn’t want you.”
Neither of them had noticed, in the scuffle, that Zack had arrived, standing in the doorway with wide eyes. “What the fuck are you two doing,” Zack said, and thus started the phase of Zack not speaking to either of them. Martin invented a new drinking game after that: Zack looking at him sadly, biting his lip? Take a shot. Zack looking at Rian sadly, biting his lip? Take two shots. Zack leaving when all three of them were in the same room together? Fuckin’ funnel it and pass the rest to Rian.
**
Matt and Jack stood in the middle of the store, gawking at all of the very expensive things surrounding them. Jack shuffled his weight from side to side nervously, taking it all in. He clutched at Matt’s elbow, biting his lower lip. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he whispered. “Like I actually can’t believe it.” Alex was at his – hopefully final – consultation with his doctors at that very moment, which Jack was extremely nervous about. But it was nothing compared to what he was planning to do that day while Alex was at the hospital, which was why he’d brought Matt along for support.
Matt said, “Dude, I can’t believe Alex is at his consultation and we’re here.” He sucked his lip ring into his mouth, adding, “No, I can’t believe we’re here, period. This is too fucking weird. I can’t believe you’re going to...” Jack clapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish the sentence.
“I’m nervous enough without your help, Matt!”
They wandered around the store for a bit, looking at different things. Jack couldn’t stop grinning like a moron. “What do you think of this one, Matt?” Matt considered it; he shook his head. They went and looked at another one. “Okay, what about this one?” Matt considered it; he shook his head. “Okay,” Jack said finally, “This isn’t working. You hate everything I pick out. Let’s go to a different store.”
Matt sighed. “It would have helped if we’d started out in a store that wasn’t ridiculously expensive,” he said. “Keep in mind that you’re not in fuckin’ U2 or anything. You can’t take out a second mortgage on the house to pay for this.” Jack cocked his head, like, ‘What’s a mortgage?’ Matt rolled his eyes. “Come on, you know Alex doesn’t want, like, a fucking yacht or something. Let’s go somewhere a little more moderately priced and see what we can find.”
Jack said, “Fuck you, I’m trying to be romantic.”
They kissed in the kitchen. They kissed in the bathroom. They kissed in the bedroom and, for fuck’s sake, they kissed in the living room where anyone could see them. Not that he had anything against Rian as a person, but it was getting really old watching him shove his tongue down Zack’s throat anywhere he could get away with it. It should have been him. He was the one that held Zack every night for two and a half months when he couldn’t sleep. He was the one that held Zack when the call came with his diagnosis. So it should have been him, really. It wasn’t fair that Rian got to swoop in out of nowhere and all of his previous sins were forgiven, no questions asked. He was the one that fucking loved Zack, not Rian.
So he took to sleeping when he knew both of them were awake, going out at night so he wouldn’t have to watch them do couple stuff. And if he had to be around them during the day, dammit, he was entitled to having a drink or two. Which really amounted to his own personal drinking game: Zack and Rian kissing in the hallway? Take a shot. Zack and Rian making out on the couch? Take two shots. Zack and Rian holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes in a totally insufferable way? Fuck, just finish the bottle. He didn’t care.
On the day Zack went for more tests to make sure his medications were working, Martin settled himself in the living room to watch the first season of Lost on D.V.D. It was one of those rare occasions where he could actually be in the living room without having to worry about what he would do if the happy couple came in and started being all... couple-y. He was halfway through the first episode when Rian sat down on the couch beside him and wordlessly handed him a beer. Well, that worked. Maybe they could have a kind of truce. He was already nicely buzzed, so it didn’t make a difference anyway. It wasn’t like Rian and Zack were having sex; the mixed blessing of being one of Zack’s best friends was having to hear about his sex life – thank God, Martin thought – or lack thereof. He didn’t even want to picture it.
“So hey,” Rian said.
Martin shrugged in reply. He wasn’t in a very talkative mood. “Thanks for the beer,” he said.
“Thanks for taking care of Zack,” Rian said. Martin balled his hands into fists. That was it? No ‘Thank you for holding my boyfriend every night while he cried because I was off being an asshole, and by the way, you’re welcome for snatching him right out from under you like that, you asshole’ or anything? All he got was a beer? Great. “Are you okay?” Rian asked.
“I’m mad at you,” he said, and that was how it started.
Rian made a face. “Me? What’d I do?” Martin huffed. How could he honestly not know? “Martin, man, I’m worried about you. I mean, you’ve been drinking an awful lot lately. Is everything okay?”
Martin clenched his jaw. “No, everything is not okay.” He gulped down some of his beer. “And no, I don’t want to talk about it. I’m mad at you, everything sucks, the fucking end.” He crushed the empty beer can with his hand, but it didn’t make him feel any better. Actually, it kind of made him feel worse, because now his hand fucking hurt. “Zack shouldn’t have forgiven you.”
“I know,” Rian said. “You love him, don’t you?”
That was all it took to break Martin Johnson. “Of course I love him, you fucking twat! And I am so fucking sick of you being all over him all the time and fucking flaunting it. I can’t change the fact that he chose you over me, but it would be nice to not have to hide out in my fucking room every second of the day because you can’t stop shoving your slimy little tongue down his throat. He deserves way fucking better than you, Dawson – especially after all he’s gone through. Who was the one that held him every night until his test, huh? Was that you? I didn’t fucking think so.”
“Then maybe you should man the fuck up and tell him how you feel,” Rian spat angrily. “I get it; you’re pissed and you’re jealous of my relationship with Zack. Okay, that’s fine. Whatever. I don’t even care. You were there for him for two months? Well, I’ve been there for his entire fucking life, Martin. Forgive me for thinking that that might mean something to him.”
There was a crack of bone hitting bone, and it took Martin a minute to realize he’d punched Rian. Suddenly, it wasn’t an argument between friends anymore; it was a battle royale-style fight with both of them rolling on the floor, clawing at each other and throwing punches. “You fucking asshole,” Martin growled. “You don’t deserve him.” Rian grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
“Like you do,” Rian hissed. “Face it, he doesn’t want you.”
Neither of them had noticed, in the scuffle, that Zack had arrived, standing in the doorway with wide eyes. “What the fuck are you two doing,” Zack said, and thus started the phase of Zack not speaking to either of them. Martin invented a new drinking game after that: Zack looking at him sadly, biting his lip? Take a shot. Zack looking at Rian sadly, biting his lip? Take two shots. Zack leaving when all three of them were in the same room together? Fuckin’ funnel it and pass the rest to Rian.
**
Matt and Jack stood in the middle of the store, gawking at all of the very expensive things surrounding them. Jack shuffled his weight from side to side nervously, taking it all in. He clutched at Matt’s elbow, biting his lower lip. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he whispered. “Like I actually can’t believe it.” Alex was at his – hopefully final – consultation with his doctors at that very moment, which Jack was extremely nervous about. But it was nothing compared to what he was planning to do that day while Alex was at the hospital, which was why he’d brought Matt along for support.
Matt said, “Dude, I can’t believe Alex is at his consultation and we’re here.” He sucked his lip ring into his mouth, adding, “No, I can’t believe we’re here, period. This is too fucking weird. I can’t believe you’re going to...” Jack clapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish the sentence.
“I’m nervous enough without your help, Matt!”
They wandered around the store for a bit, looking at different things. Jack couldn’t stop grinning like a moron. “What do you think of this one, Matt?” Matt considered it; he shook his head. They went and looked at another one. “Okay, what about this one?” Matt considered it; he shook his head. “Okay,” Jack said finally, “This isn’t working. You hate everything I pick out. Let’s go to a different store.”
Matt sighed. “It would have helped if we’d started out in a store that wasn’t ridiculously expensive,” he said. “Keep in mind that you’re not in fuckin’ U2 or anything. You can’t take out a second mortgage on the house to pay for this.” Jack cocked his head, like, ‘What’s a mortgage?’ Matt rolled his eyes. “Come on, you know Alex doesn’t want, like, a fucking yacht or something. Let’s go somewhere a little more moderately priced and see what we can find.”
Jack said, “Fuck you, I’m trying to be romantic.”