Page 51 of Ring Rust

“Oh,” Jasper said. He dropped his hand, waiting for Ryan to say something else. Anything else, really, even something mean. But he didn’t. “Okay. Listen, Ryan, I came to… I guess, apologize? About what happened the other night.”

“Oh, did something happen?”

“I’m sorry about what I did,” Jasper said. “At the house. I’d been drinking, and I was angry.”

Ryan grumbled something snarky and changed the channel on the TV.

“What was that?” Jasper asked.

“Nothing. I said thanks for the apology.”

It was hard not to roll his eyes at Ryan’s gall—as if he hadn’t set the ball rolling on that disaster of an evening. He huffed out a tired laugh, immediately regretting it and trying to cover it with a cough.

“Something in your throat?” Ryan asked. When Jasper looked up, the corner of Ryan’s mouth was pulled into a little smirk.

“Yes,” Jasper said, turning to face him fully. “I believe that was your audacity getting lodged in there.”

Ryan’s smirk became an honest smile before he let out a delighted laugh. His bruised eyelid turned into a little crescent, and the sight of him laughing so hard at such a stupid joke made affection bloom in Jasper's chest. He joined in, laughing until Ryan stopped to catch his breath.

“You’re ridiculous,” Ryan said, wiping his eye carefully. He must have been too rough, because he hissed. “Ah, shit.”

“What did you do? Stevie said you dropped a wrench on your face?”

“Thanks to Logan. He dropped my dad’s old wrench down a drain pipe. Beni brought me a new one from the utility shed, but it was huge and heavy. I was just building a picnic table, didn’t need one fit for a Titan. Anyway, yeah. It slipped, and… you get the idea.”

“Got it. It looks rough,” Jasper said, scooting closer on the couch. He picked up the ice pack and set it back on Ryan’s face.

Ryan’s good eye looked towards Jasper. “You know, I’m also sorry. For edging you on the deck and all that.”

“You didn’t edge me on the deck. You tortured me on the deck. Edging usually has a better ending than that.”

“True,” Ryan said. He laughed again. “Although you got a better ending later. Twice, if your story is to be believed.”

Jasper felt his cheeks heat and his eyes darted to the floor. He’d forgotten he lied to Ryan about what happened with Shawn. God, poor Shawn. “Yeah, well. You know.”

Ryan laughed again, making Jasper grateful the TV was on. Something to focus on so he could pretend he wasn’t dealing with the humiliation of being caught in a stupid lie.

“I heard from Micah today,” Ryan said. “Haven’t really spoken to him since I retired. He’s been busy in Don Royale’s absence, I guess.”

“What’s he up to?” Jasper was surprised by his reaction to Micah’s name. For years, Micah had been a source of anxiety, eating up bits of Ryan’s precious free time when they both had stretches of home matches. He was Ryan’s best friend and occasional mafia soldier in Don Royale’s wrestling faction. Whenever their storylines highlighted any sort of “turf war,” Don Royale versus whatever other clown show CWA had dreamed up, Jasper knew he’d be seeing even less of Ryan than usual.

But hearing the name Micah now was like hearing the name of a grocery store clerk. Zero impact to his life. He let out a quiet exhale.

“Fucked up his back pretty bad.”

“Not surprised,” Jasper said. Not callously—he just wasn’t surprised. Ryan had always said Micah’s match finisher was going to destroy his body someday. Maybe that day had come.

It came for them all eventually. Even Ryan, a guy who cared a lot about safety in all walks of life, even in the ring. His finisher was, in Jasper’s opinion, not particularly flashy, but that never bothered him. Ryan’s safety had been paramount. He shuddered, remembering times he’d woken up to phone calls from unknown numbers—Are you Ryan Sullivan’s partner?The scariest injury Ryan had suffered was a moderate concussion, but those calls had taken years off his life.

“Me neither. Still feel bad for him, though. Sounds like his days are numbered.”

“What’s his retirement plan? He’s from Florida, right? Will he move back?”

Ryan’s face scrunched up. “I hope not. I always imagined we’d build him a house on the back corner of our lot.”

“What, like brother husbands? Did we share you, in this fantasy of yours?”

Ryan waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe we shared you.”