bbs- banana banana shot? (booty booty squad?)

again and again

#makeohmtoonzhappyagain
nah jk. ohmtoonz angst because ohmtoonz is a lovely ship and i love crying over my favorites :^)
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Ryan has always loved mornings. There was something so nice and calming about waking up next to Luke, with their pets curled up on the bed with them. They would always get up together, laughing and playing around in the kitchen while making breakfast. They would cuddle up on the couch afterwards, sipping coffee and eating toast while watching tv.

Life with Luke as his husband was so lovingly domestic and satisfying, and Ryan wouldn't trade it for anything else. He wasn't sure how he survived life before, and now that he had been lucky enough to even meet Luke, Ryan wasn't sure how he’d ever live life without him.

Their wedding night had been nothing short of amazing- taking place in a beautiful, beautiful park during the fall, red and orange leaves scattering all around them. They had shared a slice of their wedding cake, and they danced like a couple of newlywed kings.  

Or rather, Luke danced while Ryan tripped over his own feet (and sometimes Luke’ feet, too).

After that, they had drove home and watched scary movies all night long. It had been an amazing night, and even though they didn't take any fancy honeymoons or whatever, they spent the entire night together and it felt magical just the same.

Being with Luke made Ryan feel magical. Made Ryan feel like a whole new person, and Ryan couldn't get enough of the feelings he got from the man.

Ryan had always been a bit of a romantic, though he never really liked to admit it. He was thankful that Luke was so willing to indulge Ryan in his little fantasies.

Their first anniversary had been a great example, and probably one of the best days of Ryan's life. They had gone out to a carnival, playing every game they saw. And despite being convinced the ring toss was rigged, Luke had won the biggest, fluffiest stuffed bunny Ryan had ever seen.

They had kissed at the top of the ferris wheel, and had shared cotton candy like every cute couple did. The night had ended with Luke having to carry Ryan into the house, where they both fell asleep on the couch together.

Good times, weren't they?

If Ryan had a penny for every time he's said “I love you” to Luke, he would be a millionaire. And what would he do with those million dollars, you ask?

Ryan would spend each and every one of those dollars on Luke. He’d buy him that car he’d been eying. He would buy a new keyboard to replace the one that got tea spilled on it. He’d buy a whole new house, if that's what Luke wanted.

Anything that would've made him stay.

Their last night together, that night, replays in his head no matter what he does.

At the time, it had all gone by in one big blur, filled with yelling and screaming, full of broken glass on the floor, broken promises mixing in with their tears. But when Luke walked out, slamming the door behind him, Ryan snapped back into reality.

And as the days went on, the memory seemed to have cleared itself up more and more with every passing day.

Slurred screams and mashed up words slowly formed into full sentences. Things like “why would you think that” and “I'm not lying to you.”

Ryan's personal favorite had been the “we're just friends,” line. The “I swear I'm not cheating on you” line, even though the evidence was clear as day, sitting right on Luke's neck in the form of a hickey that Ryan never gave him.

He wasn't sure what the problem had been. Was he not good enough in bed? Was it his looks, was he not attractive enough? Or, maybe, it was his personality? Did he not treat Luke right?

Ryan would kill for answers. Any kind of clue, or hint or tip as to what he did wrong. He wasn't getting any, though, and it frustrated him to no end.

All he wanted was to return to those peaceful mornings, to wake up next to Luke and pretend that this was all just a bad dream. He wanted to lean into Luke's arms while sipping coffee from his mug, he wanted to cuddle up with him and watch movies all day.

He couldn't, though. His favorite mug had been shattered, and somewhere during the fight the television had been fallen over and broken entirely. The coffee table was smashed and any evidence that Luke had ever been here was gone, Luke having taken all his clothes and belongings.

The only thing reminding Ryan of Luke's existence was the ring on his finger and the hole in his chest.

Ryan was tired of staying up so late at night, staring at the empty space next to him and wondering where he went wrong. He was tired of crying himself to sleep, and he was tired of clinging to the idea that Luke would come back.

For all those nights Ryan swore he’d never make it through, Luke had held his hand. Luke told him that he could (and that he would) pull through. But Luke wasn't here now, and so Ryan had no choice but to hold his own hand, and power through with whatever will he could muster.

“So maybe, just maybe, I could get over this,” he thinks to himself, gathering up his strength.

Today was the day, he would gather up his courage and go out tonight, for the sole purpose of having fun.

Only, the thing is, he has no fun at all.

He had tried going for a walk with his dog, but that reminded him too much of the times they would go jogging together. He tried going to see a movie, but all he could think of were the cheesy dates they had there.

So Ryan had tried to go to a bar, to drink his problems away, but instead he sees none other than Luke there, his arm slung around the waist of some tall, skinny blonde who's giggling and looking at Luke in such a loving way that Ryan almost vomits in the spot.

Ryan decides then that maybe it would be best to go home. He can try again tomorrow, can't he?

Then again, that's the exact same thing he told himself yesterday night.