Note: This story came pouring out of me after I read another original Jake/Ryan slash series called Heartbeat by FourFreedoms/Dark_Reaction (hosted at Archive of Our Own dot org slash series slash 9467 [sorry don't know why FF keeps blocking attempts to type out the web address!]). You don't have to read the series to understand what's going on (and I won't pretend that the writing style is contiguous), but I highly encourage it because: 1) this was written as a sequel, so some characters/ traits/ plotlines make it through, 2) it's honestly amazing.
By the end of freshman year, they were broken up. It was April and New York was finally crawling out of its winter slumber. The chill departing, the spring showers starting. They'd spent spring break together just the two of them in Italy. Their friends wanted to go to Cancun but they wanted to do something more intimate. So they basked in the Mediterranean sun, both coming back several shades darker. Ryan thought he could count the number of freckles on Jake's face with his eyes closed.
That's roughly when Jake realized it. Though he didn't say anything at the time. He waited until now, in April. He was awake having not slept well the night before and listened to the soft splatter of rain against his window keeping time with the pitter-patter of his heart. It was hot in the university-furnished twin-sized bed that now held two overgrown boys. Ryan's bare legs poked through the comforter, creating an escape valve for the heat that was trapped between their bodies.
Jake stared. The closely cropped blond hair that still managed to splay this way and that; the lines that were just starting to become etched into the pale forehead (Jake often warned Ryan about his frown faces freezing into place); the thin lips that he loved to run his tongue across and taste; the aquiline nose that he frequently bumped against when they fought for control. Actually, from where Ryan's head was nestled against Jake's should he couldn't see much more than the head actually. But his imagination was as good as ever.
"You're thinking too much," Ryan drawled softly, "it's waking me up." To prove it he turned his head toward Jake and opened his eyes. Gods those eyes. Even in the dimness of the curtain-drawn room, Jake could still see the blue. Like the Mediterranean.
"Sorry babe," he murmured. It had to be today.
It happened at brunch. Ryan watched as Jake picked morosely at his eggs. They'd gone to a nicer café near the park, taking a window seat to watch the citizens and tourists of the city splash by in rain boots and colorful umbrellas.
"Hey," he called softly, "tell me."
Ryan looked up.
"My forehead can't take it anymore," Ryan said and smiled. His eyes turned down even more when he smiled, and Jake would forever think that was the sexiest expression there could ever be.
Jake took in a small breath. "I've been thinking… I, uh, I think—"
"—you want to break up with me?" The smirk was practically plastered on Ryan's face.
Jake stared, he was sure his eyes bulged a little. "No! Well, not exactly, I just think… I think we need a break?"
Ryan leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, still smirking. "You've been thinking it since we went to Italy together."
Years later, Jake would think that it was amazing how he said that without a trace of accusation. It was simply, for him, a declaration of what was true. For both of them, though of course Jake didn't know that at the time.
Jake sighed, put down the fork, and gave up on the food altogether. "Ryan, you know how I feel about you. I just think… I mean I look around at the other couples that started dating in high school and go through college... They never gave anyone else a chance, never explored who they are. And now they're in a relationship that's just comfortable and easy. I don't want that for us."
Ryan sipped his water silently, narrow eyes watching Jake talk.
"We both deserve better… I mean we deserve to give ourselves better. We need to grow as individuals, experience new things for ourselves, we need—"
"—space," Ryan finished, full of seriousness. Jake winced and waited for the anger. Maybe they'd relive The Beatdown. "Jake, I get it. I do, I really do."
Jaked gaped, "that's it?"
Ryan laughed, "what'd you expect? I hope you think I've matured a little more than to kick you ass right here and right now."
Jake had nothing to say to that.
Ryan fished in his wallet and put two twenties on the table. "Come on, guy," he said pulling at Jake's wrist.
Jake looked up questioningly.
"My flight is in five hours. We'll break up at the airport. Until then, I'm going to fuck you silly." The smirk was back.
They didn't say anything on the subway ride to JFK. Pressed together on the crowded subway, Jake only took comfort in Ryan's warmth, knowing it was the last time he'd feel it.
They didn't say anything when Ryan checked-in. Jake pretended to guard the screen from prying eyes, while watching the information he'd long since memorized typed key by key into the small touchscreen, but they both knew that wasn't necessary.
They didn't say anything at the gate. They just hugged and Ryan clapped him on the back before flashing another smile so beautiful Jake had to silently strangle the part of him that wanted to pull the other back in and say stay.
It was only when Jake got home that he realized they never said anything about keeping in touch, visiting home, or anything practical like that. It was only when Jake plopped facedown back into his bed and desperately breathed in the last scents of Ryan that he wondered if he would ever forgive himself for choosing to experience such heartbreak.
Incidentally, they needn't have worried about bumping into each other at home. Jake spent most of the summer training abroad. Roqua hooked him up with a pro-trainer in Brazil and while his roommates thought he was going on some exotic vacation with drawn up images in their heads of Christ the Redeemer and the dense Amazon, Jake had to explain to them that he was more likely going to be spending ten hours a day being worked and beaten to a pulp, and then recovering whenever he had a chance.
He was only home for a week, and between his mom fretting over his injuries and catching up with Charlie, who was getting to be quite the tennis powerhouse and had daily practice of his own, he almost never made it outside the house.
Christmas of that year, Ryan wasn't home. His father had just landed a big client in Asia and flown the entirely family out to celebrate for the entire holiday. He heard when hanging out with Baja that Ryan was less than thrilled, but couldn't exactly say no to the man paying for his education.
He and Baja were talking again, more than that, friends. She and Max were the few people at home that knew about him and Ryan. She took it surprisingly well, something about the beauty of a very liberal arts education exposing her to the world. Max took it less well, saw it as a personal betrayal, and didn't speak to him for months. Even now they were on shaky terms.
Baja brought home a guy that she'd met taking a few classes at UPenn. She was nervous because he was only in the States for school, and would most likely have to return to his home in Argentina after graduating. Jake met him a few times and he seemed nice enough, very shy. Though perhaps it was the language barrier, he was still uncomfortable in crowds with English coming from every direction. He and Baja spoke in Spanglish, and with their daily practice, she was one of the best students in advanced Spanish at Bryn Mawr.
Jake brought home a girl as well, and for a moment when driving her home to meet his family and passing Ryan's mansion, wondered if Ryan was with someone as well. Baja didn't really keep in touch with him so she didn't know. And since Jake never hung out with Ryan's other friends, he was left in the dark. He realized then that they'd never really been out to their friends when they were still living in Florida. And even though he's since told Baja and Max, he wondered if Ryan had told Eric or the other guys, and how they took it.
Charlie loved his new girlfriend. She was in many ways, everything Ryan was not. She was exotic: a quarter Chinese, half Native American, and another quarter "American mutt" as she called it. She was not a college athlete, but instead on the student senate, president of her sorority, and, even as a sophomore, rumored to be the best candidate for student body president. She was a business and political science major and wanted to change the world. Last they talked, Ryan was still undecided and Jake remembered thinking he sure took his sweet time considering all his angst in getting into a school. It didn't hurt that Jenny was also an avid tennis player, though as she put it, for recreation only. Still, Charlie couldn't stop commenting on how good she was and how much potential she had, and followed her movements around the house with a longing look until Jake smacked his head.
She made him happy for nearly the whole school year, but come April, he was dating someone new. A guy this time, a relationship that lasted for all of two months before Jake realized they wanted very different things in life. He was starting to seriously consider going pro, and would be back in Brazil to train. And the other guy wanted to commit the next decade after school to becoming a doctor.
By the time junior year drew to a close, Jake had slept and dated his way through, as one of his fraternity brothers gently put it, enough men and women to put a Roman emperor to shame. And that one comment reminded him again of Ryan and he wondered when he became the slut out of the two of them, before remembering that there wasn't a two of them anymore. But in all honesty, aside from these moments here and there that were inevitable, Jake was rather pleased at how well he'd managed to get over Ryan.
He called senior year the year of champions. Charlie was starting the school year back in Florida number one in the state with strong letters of interest already coming in from colleges even though he was only a sophomore in high school. And though Jake lamented that MMA was still not recognized by the NCAA as an actual sport, there was no doubt that he had the potential to go far with the sport. He was Columbia's finest delegate in TKD and capoeira, in whatever smaller, regional competitions they'd send him to.
Just before winter break, they sent him to a TKD competition hosted by USC. He jumped at the opportunity to take a break from the miserable winter in New York. With his coaches' strong voices of support, he even got the professors of his last few classes to agree to let him take the finals by proxy on the USC campus instead of at Columbia.
He figured he'd be flying home to Florida anyway, so he packed light. A suitcase full of clothes for warmer weathers. He stepped off the plane and immediately replaced his black down jacket with a light hoodie. This is more like it.
He picked up his rental car and drove to the hotel to drop off his luggage before heading back out and making a beeline for Santa Monica, having fond memories from when Ryan would take him. He parked a few miles south of Santa Monica proper and took off his shoes readying for a run. Sand running was great for an all around workout, and he planned to go eight miles in a loop before heading back to eat, study, and sleep before the competition tomorrow. He had a rule, no fighting the day before a competition, but running always helped him relax and get his mind in the zone.
He took off at a slow pace and just genuinely enjoyed himself. From behind blue shades he watched the dogs chasing waves, other joggers and walkers, kids running around and building sand castles. By the time he got to the workout stations he slowed a bit and headed over. This place always made him feel like a kid, and part of him wondered if an adult playground might not be such a bad business idea.
There was a crowd by the rings so he headed toward the climbing rope where there was one guy currently on his way down. Jake paused for a moment to admire the guy's musculature. The guy was turned away from him and taking his time climbing down, drawing out the muscle extensions and intensifying the workout. By the time he made it three quarters of the way down, Jake's heart jumped. The sun was no longer in his face and he could see clearly the shape and form of the back muscles. The way the golden blond hair formed a peak at the nape of the neck from which a thin gold chain was hung. He'd recognize that body anywhere. If it hadn't been for Ryan, Jake probably would have lived life as a normal, straight guy. But something about Ryan drew him, inexplicably and undeniably. In the time they were together, he learned the contours of not just a man's body, but Ryan's body. Even when he was with other guys, he always look for and failed to find a comparable form.
This body in front of him, he knew, even from a good dozen yards away. It was like he was suddenly wearing binoculars, he was seeing every details of that perfect bronze skin. The beads of sweat that he remembered tasting. The freckles dotting the upper shoulder, specks he used to kiss and keep count. He could hear the breathes, in and out in twos and threes. When the man finally touched down on the ground, it was soft, gentle, controlled—just as Ryan always liked.
Ryan perked up, hearing footsteps draw closer and turned around. He was momentarily stunned. Of course he recognized the face. Jake wore his hair in a close crop now, and his eyes were hidden behind brilliant blue shades, but he would recognize that face anywhere.
"Jake." A declarative statement. No guess.
He took two steps forward and so did Jake. They met in a crushing embrace, not yet of lovers, but of old friends reunited.
Jake turned inward toward Ryan's neck and breathed deep. There was an ease to the motion and sense of familiarity that not one of his relationships had erased. He resisted the temptation to place a kiss. He no longer had a right, not having been a part of Ryan's life for the last few years.
Ryan pushed Jake out in front of him to get a closer look. He laughed, "Man you're even bigger now! What happened to you?"
Jake didn't say anything and just grinned like a little kid. He was melting under that smile. The sexiest one he'd ever seen.
"Come on, are you busy? Let's get some Chinese, and you'll have to tell me what you're doing here!"
Over bao, they caught back up on each other's lives. Jake told him in proud tones about the TKD competition. Ryan laughed and told him he'd be there in the crowd tomorrow. Ryan told him that he'd been taking up krav maga, not seriously and not competitively, but it helped him keep his skills sharp while relieving the stress from school. He was surprised that Jake considered going pro while he himself was decidedly not going to pursue the sport. Instead, he was majoring in performance arts and trying to break into acting by being a stunt double. Jake was equally surprised that Ryan would leave the MMA world and teased whether Ryan had the acting chops to take off Hollywood. Ryan gave him some spot on puppy eyes that twisted Jake's insides and he thought maybe Ryan was right.
By the time they parted, it was several hours into the evening. Back at Jake's car, they hugged again and Ryan placed a light kiss on Jake's forehead. "See you tomorrow, Tyler." A smirk and then he was gone.
It was 3am before Jake could fall asleep that night. He couldn't focus on anything but Ryan. Seeing him again, touching him again. And that kiss. What did it say about their relationship that this man had such a hold on him? Even after he thought Ryan no longer occupied a place in his mind, just one afternoon brought it all back. He found himself praying the morning would come faster so he could be on campus at USC, with Ryan who promised to come. But the night never passes quickly when you want it to. So he tossed and turned, and didn't even remember falling asleep until his alarm blared to life in the empty hotel room and he woke up with Ryan's smiling face etched into his brain.
The final rounds were challenging. Jake was tired, ill-rested, and his coach sensed it. During the final round he went and fetched a can of Red Bull, offering it to Jake. "I fucking told you to sleep early kid, damn what the hell's the matter with you? Now you good to get back in there or what?"
Jake pushed off the Red Bull. "Fine," he breathed against the mouth guard. His right side ached. His opponent had hit him right in that tender spot in the ribs. He needed to focus. Needed to kick this guy's ass so he could prove himself to Ryan.
Back in the match he dodged several attacks and didn't bother to hit back. He was looking, scanning for a weakness. It was what the new guy in Brazil taught him. When they get you down, let 'em think they own it. Let 'em go all out. You take it easy and just watch. Find where they're trippin' up and kill 'em. He moved his head to the right and raised his left arm to counter a kick. There! When the guy roundhouse kicks with his right, he drops his left arm too low. Too low to block. He stalks around, waiting for the next opportunity.
"Don't back down, Tyler." A voice calls from the crowd. Ryan's voice.
The guy powers up a kick and strikes. Jake's left arm shoots up to counter again, but then simultaneously he swings his right arm and pitches forward, twisting his torso to maximize the force of the punch. Direct hit. He feels the air leave his opponent in a rush as he falters and clutches his side. It's over rather quickly after that.
Ryan touches his right side and even though Jake winces a little at the touch, he's still flushing from feeling Ryan's fingertips ghosting over his skin.
"Rib's not broken this time. Guy doesn't hit so hard?"
Jake laughs, "no one hits like you," then pauses for dramatic effect while producing a smirk of his own, "you hit like an asshole."
Ryan smirks and smacks Jake upside the head. "You love me, though."
Jake freezes. And there it is. There is that truth staring him in the face. Ryan just realizes what he said and his forehead is bunching up again. But when Jake looks up at him, it's with a crystal clear sincerity that he murmurs, "yeah, I do."
He cancels his plans to go back to Florida. Ryan is taking an intensive acting seminar over the break and Jake doesn't hesitate to agree when the other asks him to stay. His mom is beyond annoyed until he explains it's about Ryan. Charlie is miffed that he won't be getting a present, until Jake promises him two when he finds time to go home in the spring. One from him and one from Ryan.
When Jake finishes his final test at the center in USC, he drives full speed over to UCLA where Ryan and a few friends are sharing an apartment for their last year. Ryan has a couple of days off so he shows Jake around. More adventurous as seniors, they drive along the highway 1 to Santa Barbara, where the gaggles of beautiful women that Ryan and his friends normally hang out with are shocked the minute he introduces them to Jake as his very best friend. Ryan just smiles and smiles, it feels good to have Jake back in his life.
They spar on the beach sometimes, drawing crowds of onlookers that every once in awhile display flashes of concern before they realize that the two men are only practicing. Ryan introduces Jake to his krav maga club, and Jake would spend his free time there during the days when Ryan was in his seminar. Many elements of krav were already familiar to him, but admittedly he had spent more time on TKD and capoeira, so there were certainly some new tricks to try.
The first time they sparred Ryan got Jake on his back with a crazy takedown move and straddled his hips with a smile, "if you want to be the best…" he said lazily pointing two fingers at himself and grinning. Jake laughed and pushed him off.
They fuck almost every night. Either Jake's coming back from the club and his testosterone is running high, or Ryan just nailed a scene and wants to celebrate. It's only after one morning when Jay, Ryan's suite-mate from freshman year that Jake still somewhat remembers, comments about how paper thin the walls are that the two of them dial down the activities a little bit.
When school resumes in January, Jake reluctantly pries himself out of Ryan's arms the day of his flight. It's 5am and he needs to be at the airport for an early flight. They have sleepy slow sex one last time in the shower before Ryan drives him to the airport. They don't say anything the entire time, but this time there's no mistaking where they stand when they kiss at the gate.
They talk once, maybe twice a week. They're both independent adults now. And this, Jake muses one evening, is what he wanted. He wouldn't want to be in a relationship where two people are so co-dependent, they hate the other for binding them so close, but they're no longer brave enough to try out what freedom feels like.
By the end of the semester they're fully caught up on the last few years. Both Ryan and Jake laugh about how much they've switched roles. Jake wants to pursue the spectator sport full time, though as he's always reminding Ryan, acting may not be very different. Jake was in a fraternity and Ryan was not. Perhaps overly sensitive to the stupid jock stereotype, he got an apartment off-campus with Jay and a few of his other buddies. They've formed their own little clique over the years.
To Jake's surprise, Ryan only went out with two other people since they broke up, each time ending the relationship in a few months. Jake wonders if Ryan can see the blush through Skype when he mentions that he can't remember how many people he's gone through. Ryan smirks dryly and Jake protests, "that's what I needed to get over you!"
Ryan tells Jake that he eventually told his parents. His stepmom was actually supportive, but his father found it difficult to react. Ryan shrugs it off. His father was always distant, so this doesn't make any difference. Eric knows, and surprisingly took it extremely well (Jake forgets, but he thinks Ryan mentions Eric had a cousin who was gay, or something like that), though none of Ryan's other buddies did. Jake mentions Max's reaction and Ryan can barely hold back a snort.
They both head back to Florida for spring break. When they show up at Jake's house, both are warmly welcomed by Jake's mom. Charlie, on the other hand, gives Ryan a big hug after Ryan presents a state-of-the-art racket, and then pointedly ignores Jake after he forgot himself to get a present for the kid. Jake is too surprised to say anything but Ryan just smirks and mouths, the best. And while neither want to do the crazy spring break again (Ryan went the year before to Los Cabos and Jake went with his fraternity to Cancun), they do take a roadtrip down to the Keys. Just the two of them. Like Italy, but not like Italy because this time, neither of them are hesitant about anything.
The second to last day of break, they're back and telling stories of sea turtles and bioluminescent waters over dinner at the local greasy burger joint they all used to frequent in high school. It's Ryan, Jake, Baja, Max, Eric, and Rhodes, a guy Ryan knows from UCLA who happens to be visiting some friends of his in Florida. Surprisingly, they all get along. Any beef between Eric and Jake was via Ryan anyways so that wasn't a problem. Max finally got over, whatever he was having trouble with, and even though he didn't say anything directly to Ryan all night, he at least lost the perpetual death glare. Baja is nice to everyone, and she flat out tells Ryan how much better of a person he is, earning a gawk from Jake and a polite thanks from Ryan.
He has a picture of them framed in his bedroom from that night. Years later he'll look back and realize it's the last picture of him and his friends from high school in one place all together. They're still young, still so fresh. And when he graduates, that photograph is the only memento he takes out to the West Coast.