"So, you heard our story. What do your parents do for a living?" Gail asked Ryan. It seemed this was a topic she wasn't willing to drop so easily.
Ryan figured some kind of answer was better than no answer, and with a full belly, complacency was kicking in. "I was raised by my grandparents, actually. My Grandad was ex military and my Nanna was a homemaker."
Scott perked up at this. This was all new information, he hadn't been able to get much information about Ryan's family life before.
"So, if it's not to personal, what happened to your parents?" Scott found himself asking the question without thinking.
Ryan paused a moment to consider if he wanted to answer that. He wasn't ashamed of it, he'd come to terms with how things were years ago. They'd all probably find out eventually. But, did he really want to tell them? Did they really need to know right now?
"They're still around somewhere, I just don't know where. They found out I was an omega when I was really young…" Ryan gave them a half truth version. "I got appendicitis, and the doctors found my secondary organs. I don't remember much, but I don't think my parents weren't prepared to deal with it. I wasn't told why, I just know I started living with my grandparents after that."
Ryan knew why, of course. He remembered his parents arguing. He remembered his dad suddenly being mad at him for something he didn't understand, for something he couldn't control. He remembered his mom yelling at his dad for "agreeing" to something, but he couldn't remember what it was. He just knew when He left the hospital, he never went back "home," and he didn't see them much after that.
It wasn't too bad though. His Grandad may have been strict, but his Nanna taught him how to keep house, and made sure he knew how to take care of himself. When Howard expressed that he'd love to meet them, Ryan had to unfortunately admit they had both passed some time ago.
At some point during the story, Scott had taken hold of Ryan's hand. That's why he worked so much. Most unpaired omegas either lived with, or received financial assistance from their parents. Ryan didn't have any of that.
"I... kinda killed the mood, didn't I? Sorry about that." Ryan apologized. "Things are pretty good right now though, so it's no big deal."
Elizabeth came through with the tension breaker. She pointed right at Ryan declaring, "Scotty told me he's been teaching you how to play videogames. I challenge you to a Super Mele tournament, right now!"
Never mind that Ryan had never played Super Mele, the complete 180 was just that was needed. He then proceeded to have his ass handed to him.
It was the oddest thing. Scott's parents didn't partake (though Scott assured him they did on occasion), but instead they played spectator. They cheered whenever someone got a particularly good shot in, and encouraged whoever was knocked out to go for revenge. It wasn't until they were a few rounds in that Ryan was even able to beat the computer, but he was having fun all the same. Once, he managed to place second, but he strongly suspected Scott threw that particular match, despite his vehement denial. Overall, it was probably the most fun he'd had in a long time.
Eventually all things must come to an end. Everyone said their good-byes, complete with hugs and promises to not be a stranger. Ryan was sent with a generous container of leftovers, for which he made sure to thank Howard and Gail profusely. Elizabeth challenged him to a rematch once he's had a chance to up his skills. It was a wonderful feeling, being invited to spend time with this family. One last round of thank–yous and good-byes, and he and Scott were on the road home.
Much of the conversation consisted of Ryan fishing for game techniques, the afternoon's previous awkwardness forgotten in the wake of the heated fighting game tournament. There was, however, one bit of conversation Ryan was saving for when they were a little closer to home. He wasn't entirely sure what his boyfriend's reaction would be, so he was erring on the side of caution.
Today had gone better than Scott could hope for. His family and his boyfriend had hit it off wonderfully. This was exactly what he needed right now. Ryan's hand was a comforting presence in his as they drove back towards the city.
Honestly, work had been very tough the last few days. Since Tuesday, he'd found two cancers on his patients, one of which ended up being late stage. It's never an easy thing to break to someone, but sometimes these things happen. It wasn't the first in his professional career, and it probably won't be the last. For now, he was content to offer up his gaming wisdom to a rather adorable shotgun.
As they got closer to the city, the conversation lulled. Ryan broke a stretch of silence with, "Cuddle Bug, I need to tell you something."
"Everything okay?" Scott asked.
"Yeah. It's just, you know my heat's coming up, right?"
"I was thinking you were about due."
"Well, to get today off, I kinda had to switch shifts with somebody. And, well, the rule is that it's gotta be within the same week."
"Okay?"
"So, well, um... The only day I had before my heat window was Tuesday so... We can't... Date night... I'm sorry..."
It took Scott a second to work out what Ryan was saying. So, to have today off, he had to give up his Tuesday?
"That's alright," Scott replied. "I understand."
"You're... Not mad?"
"Maybe a little bummed, but if that's policy..."
A silence fell between them as Scott pondered Ryan's words. He was indeed disappointed they wouldn't get to do dinner on Tuesday as usual, but wasn't Ryan's schedule already fairly strenuous that day?
It bugged him enough to ask, "Don't you work an overnight and an opening shift on Tuesdays?"
"Yes...?"
"So, what time would you be going in for this swapped shift?"
"...I'll get about enough time to shower and change," Ryan responded hesitantly.
"And how long will the shift be?"
"I dunno, five hours? Six? I'll probably be cut whenever the dinner rush is over." The question made Ryan uncomfortable.
"So you're going to work an eight hour overnight shift, work a five hour morning shift, then turn around and work six more hours?" Scott's voice jumped a few octaves in his accusation.
"I've done it before," Ryan defended quietly. Boyfriend or not this was none of his business.
"You shouldn't have to do it at all!" Scott retorted.
"Well, life's expensive!"
"You're just an omega! You shouldn't be expected to do everything yourself!"
The words "just an omega" seemed to echo within the car. Scott didn't know it, but Ryan hated those words. "Just an omega" had been thrown at him as an insult his whole life. He wasn't "just an omega!" How many omegas finished high school? How many omegas could fully support themselves? Maybe it was exhausting, but he was more than "just an omega!"
"I handled things just fine before I met you!" Ryan shouted, pulling his hand free from Scott's. "I'm capable of taking care of myself!"
In an instant, Ryan's anger turned to terror. He'd just raised his voice to an alpha. Scott's eyes were focused on the road, but they held a steely glint. His grip tightened in the steering wheel. Ryan cowered against the car door, turning his back towards Scott. It always hurt less to be struck in the back. He messed up. He really messed up! He wanted to apologize for yelling, but he couldn't get his voice to work! He tensed, waiting for the inevitable punishment.
Scott sighed loudly then said through clenched teeth, "That's not what I meant! I'm just worried about you! Every time I see you, you're tired!"
Scott glanced over at his boyfriend. From what he could see he was getting the cold shoulder.
"Ryan, look at me." his tone was firm. "Damnit, let's not fight about this."
He held his hand out, hoping Ryan would take it. An argument was the last thing he wanted. Ryan didn't even turn to look at him.
"You know what? Fine!" Scott gripped the steering wheel with both hands letting out an exacerbating sound. "Pout about it! See if I care!"
Scott, of course, cared a great deal. He hated arguing with people, but why was Ryan being so unreasonable with this? They'd had a wonderful afternoon, and there was no reason for his boyfriend to be acting so childish.
Ryan on the other hand, was very glad they were so close to his apartment. He needed to make a run for it as soon as the car stopped. If it wasn't for the vibration of the car, Scott may have seen how much he was trembling. If Scott could have spared more than a moment to look at him, he may have seen the way Ryan's fingers were digging into his arms so much the nailbeds were white. If he could see Ryan's face, maybe he would have handled it differently.
When he pulled into the drop-off zone for Ryan's building, he fully intended to try and talk things out. However, before he could even put his car in park, off flew Ryan's seatbelt, the passenger side door swung wide, and Ryan was halfway to the entrance. Scott tried calling out to him, but Ryan entered the building without ever looking back.
This was when Scott's heart sank, and it hit him that he somehow really messed up, no matter his intentions. It had been a shitty week, and what was a high note ended unbelievably sour. He banged his head against the steering wheel, groaning in frustration, calling himself an idiot a few times for good measure. He didn't even get a goodbye kiss, and that had its own special hurt.
The door was swung so wide he had to undo his belt to reach, and while he was practically climbing over the seat, he happened to notice the Tupperware container his mother had specifically packed Ryan sitting on the floor boards and he mentally kicked himself again. He slammed the door hard and flopped back into the driver's seat. He ran his fingers through his hair, letting out another frustrated groan.
This… couldn't be solved today. They both needed time to cool down. Scott pulled out and started the drive home. There was nothing that could be done today. Still, his heart was heavy, and he wasn't sure why, but all he wanted was to crawl into bed and wait for this to blow over.
--------------------
Monday morning, before work, Scott sent a text reading:
SCOTT: [I'm sorry if I upset you. Call me when you can.]
When he checked his phone at noon, it said the message had been read. He sent another message:
SCOTT: [I'm really sorry :'( Can we talk?]
When he got off work, there was still no reply.
When he was home for the evening, he tried calling himself, but was sent straight to voicemail. Maybe, he'd have to employ a different strategy...