Page 41 of Ring Rust

Next time, he’d take it slow. Next time, he wouldn’t be doing this up against the wall of his sister’s house. Next time, he’d?—

Next time?

“Jasper?” That was Shawn. “Wanna head out?”

Ryan and Jasper just stared at each other, breathing heavily.

“Um, yeah. I’ll be there in a minute and we can head home,” Jasper said, his eyes never leaving Ryan’s.

“Okay. You might want to… Well, I’m ready to go, so just… hurry up!”

For some stupid reason, the words felt like a new knife in Ryan’s gut. More painful, like it’d been left in the fire before use. Jasper ignored it all, pulling Ryan close again. His throat made a different noise when Ryan’s body rubbed against his again, something close to a sob, broken and breathless—so close to coming Ryan could almost taste it. But combined with the sobering realization that there wouldn’tbea next time, Jasper’s desire made Ryan pull back.

Jasper’s breath caught from the chill and his hands hung uselessly in the air, reaching out to Ryan’s retreating body. When Ryan blinked to focus his eyes and saw Jasper’s face mirroring his own—hope, sadness, a bit of panic under the surface—he knew he couldn’t continue. Not when it would only make things worse when it ended. And it would end. Jasper didn’t want him anymore, not beyond this moment, and Ryan couldn’t afford to pretend otherwise.

So, he stopped, even though it felt like tearing something out of his own chest to do it.

“Ryan?” Jasper said, his voice cracking slightly.

Ryan wiped his mouth. Not to wipe away the kiss, that would be impossible, but to put some distance between them because he had to figure out what to do now. Jasper was leaving with his date who was wearing a sweater with a light up Christmas tree on it. Their kiss hadn’t changed anything. Jasper was still over Ryan, and nothing he’d said that evening had implied otherwise.

So, he did the only thing he could think of. Something that would hurt them both, but in different ways. He stepped forward and lowered his hand to Jasper’s still hard cock, stroking it with a soft, flat palm. He trailed his thumb up to the tip, damp and warm through his thin pants. Jasper’s head dropped against the side of the house and he let out a quiet moan.

“Ryan,” he said, thrusting his hips towards Ryan’s hand. “Yeah, please.”

“What do you need?”

“You know what I need. You always know.”

“I do. You need to come? You’re so hard. It’s been a while, huh?”

Jasper nodded with his head against the wall and tried to steady his breathing. “Yeah. It’s been so long. Please.”

Ryan didn’t say anything, just kept touching Jasper the way he knew he wanted and the way he needed, enjoying the familiar feel of Jasper’s cock for the last time. Jasper was moving on with a man standing fifteen feet away, and he didn’t even respect Ryan enough to lie about it when they were breathing the same air and their bodies were pressed against each other. Ryan had no choice but to move on, too.

His hand stopped stroking and dropped to his side. Jasper’s hips shifted, seeking more contact.

Ryan pressed his hand against his own aching cock, willing his erection to go down. He and Jasper were still so close his lips were nearly touching Jasper’s ear, but he kept their bodies apart.

Ryan smiled painfully and whispered, “Have a good rest of your date.”

Chapter Twelve

Ryan didn’t even makeit to the end of the block before his eyes blurred. He gripped the steering wheel with one hand and wiped his face with the other, furious he’d allowed himself to show even a flicker of hope in Jasper’s presence. If he’d known Jasper was bringing someone to the party, he never would have gone. If he’d known Jasper was going to move on so quickly, he never would have given him so much space.

He cleared his throat and slapped himself to reset his emotions. There was nothing left with Jasper, obviously. Instead of getting on the freeway to Beni’s, or hell—even Boston, he turned the opposite direction and headed up the winding roads leading to their house. With any luck, Jasper would go home with Shawn, and Ryan would be able to pack up a few suitcases with things he couldn’t leave behind, then leave the house for the last time, giving himself room to figure out a new way to exist without ever seeing Jasper again.

By the time the headlights lit up the side of the house, Ryan’s throat hurt from holding back tears. The cold air outside shocked him back to his new normal, functional but aimless, and he managed to walk across the driveway, past the chicken coop,and up to the deck without falling apart. He put the key into the lock and turned, lifting the door with the handle like they always did. It was a bit loose on the hinges and dragged along the floor when he pushed it open. He’d meant to fix it before he left for his farewell tour and never got around to it.

He did his best to ignore the door’s misalignment, and the groove Jasper had worn in the floor instead of just lifting as he opened it. It wasn’t Jasper’s fault. Ryan hadn’t done what he said he was going to do, and he knew Jasper didn’t know how to fix it. He could have sent someone out or fixed it some random weekend, but he didn’t.

A quick trip to the shed for his toolbox, and ten minutes later the door was realigned with fresh screws. He opened and closed it a few times, just to be sure, then stepped inside, letting the door shut with just a gentle push. It was stupid how easy a fix it was and how Ryan had let it go undone for months because he didn’t prioritize it. Because wrestling had become more important than anything. Because wrestling needed him more than Jasper ever did, and he assumed there would always be time later—for door hinges and for partners.

He looked down at the screwdriver in his hand, irritated with himself that something so small would make such an impact on Jasper’s life. And he wouldn’t even be there to enjoy it—to watch Jasper easily push the door open with his hip while carrying groceries or figurines or baby chickens.

If Jasper was there, he’d probably ask why Ryan cared now. He’d had years to be attentive and present and a true partner, not just a roommate who used their house as a hotel between moments with his true love—touring.

Ryan tossed his toolbox on the counter, suddenly exhausted. He needed to get his stuff packed and get back in the car so he could drive to Beni’s before he got too tired.