He needed a hug more than anything right now. He checked his phone. It was almost 9. Scott was most definitely at work already. He opened today's "good morning" text, received an hour and a half ago, complete with a kissy face emoji. It made him feel just a little better, the idea that Scott thought of him when he woke up.
He sent back: [Good morning! I love you!]
SCOTT: [Are you home yet?]
Ryan was surprised by the immediate response.
RYAN: [Not yet. Something happened at work, but I'm heading home now.]
SCOTT: [Something happened? Are you okay?]
No, he wasn't okay. Seeing that text, his eyes stung and his nose tingled. The adrenaline of it all was over. He was tired. His feelings were hurt. It shouldn't bother him, but it did. He hated that it did. He was an adult that got called a stupid name, and it hurt. He took too long to respond. His phone started ringing in his hand, Scott's picture on the screen.
"...Hello?" He was determined to keep it together.
"Ryan, are you okay?"
Scott didn't use the nickname. His voice was tender and gentle. Ryan felt his lip quiver.
"I'm fine." His voice cracked. He wiped at his eyes, and held the phone away so Scott wouldn't hear him sniff. He was not fine, and it was for a stupid reason.
"I can tell you're not. My first appointment isn't until 10:30. Where are you? I'll come get you."
Ryan pulled himself together long enough to tell him he'd wait at the bus stop. He found it surprisingly easy to relent. It was a strange feeling, realizing he'd just accepted help without asking for it. Scott assured him he'd be there as soon as he could. They exchanged "I love yous" and the call was over.
Ryan made it to the covered bench that served as the stop and sat down heavily. He felt numb. He hunched over, hugging himself. He couldn't tell how long he sat there. He started counting the ants on the sidewalk. The bus came, and when he made no move to get up, it drove off again.
He didn't notice Scott's car pull up, but the sound of the door opening snapped him out of it. Scott was making big strides over to him. Ryan stood up like a shot, and shyly let himself be embraced.
"Are you hurt?"
"No..." Ryan rested his head against Scott's shoulder.
Scott held him close, rubbing his back. Ryan gripped his lab coat. The feelings came back. He trembled. Tears built up in his eyes. With a sniff and a whine, he let himself cry.
Scott supported him as he released his pent-up emotions. He didn't complain that his shoulder got wet, or that his clothes got wrinkled. He waited until Ryan cried himself out, then led him back to the car where there were tissues waiting. After helping his boyfriend clean up he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
If Ryan was tired before, he was exhausted now. His face was blotched and puffy, but he felt better after crying. He told Scott the story of what happened, and how the company handled it, and how he knew it shouldn't bug him but it did, and how that particular slur brought up some really bad memories. He didn't elaborate on that last part. He wasn't ready to divulge the traumas of his previous relationship. He finished with an apology for pulling Scott away from work again.
"Are you hungry? We've got time to swing by a drive-thru. If you don't want to be alone, I've got a couch in my office you're welcome to crash on. Otherwise, I can take you home?" Scott brushed some stubborn loose hair back behind Ryan's ear.
Ryan didn't want to be alone. He didn't want to be a pest, but he didn't want to be alone. "I don't want to get you in trouble..."
Scott kissed his forehead, then took off his lab coat and wrapped it around Ryan's shoulders. "Me? In trouble? Never. Is fast food okay? It's the only thing I remembered seeing on the way here."
Ryan nodded and Scott got him settled and buckled in before getting in on the other side and driving off.
"Don't worry about it too much." Scott's hand found Ryan's and he laced their fingers. "Everyone breaks sometimes. Even me."
Ryan pulled Scott's jacket tighter. He felt like he should be embarrassed, but he wasn't. Scott bought him breakfast, which he was glad for. Now that things were settled down, his body was reminding him he just spent the night burning a ton of calories and he needed to refuel. For the record, fast food tastes the best when you're starving.
With fifteen minutes to spare before his first appointment of the day, Scott led his boyfriend into the New Line Fertility building. He'd sent a text to his own HR ahead of time, giving them a heads up of the situation. He wasn't afraid of a reprimand. Their office worked with omegas on a regular basis. Not all of them came from good situations, and there were staff on hand to offer assistance should matters of abuse come to light. They may cater to higher end clientele, but that made little difference. The team was trained to have the upmost discretion. The front desk workers didn't batt an eye when he led Ryan, who was still wrapped in his lab coat, back to his office.
He had to move a few stacks of file folders off the couch before Ryan could lay down. He helped Ryan with his shoes, and apologized that the couch wasn't as comfortable as the one he had at home.
"If you need it, water fountains and restrooms are down the hall, take a left, and they'll be on the right. I've got to go get ready for my next appointment. Will you be okay?"
Ryan nodded. "Thank you for everything. Don't you, ah, need this back?" He indicated the lab coat that was now laid over top of him.
"Nope. You hold on to it so you don't get cold." Scott kissed Ryan's lips. "If you need anything, you can ask the staff and they'll either help you or notify me, okay?"
Ryan nodded to show he understood. Scott gave him one more kiss, then went to go turn out the lights. On his way out, he said over his shoulder, "Get some sleep, Hot Stuff. I love you."
A quiet "I love you too, Cuddle Bug," followed him as he gently closed the door.
--------------------
It was three weeks after Ryan's breakdown incident at FedEx. Nothing more had come of it, and the team was still split. Michael could swear there was bullying going on. It was just him and Ryan working a bay all by themselves since then, and it always seemed their tools were never where they were supposed to be they were always last in line to get forklift assistance, and we're starting to get in trouble for falling behind. It was nothing they could prove or contest, and every time they asked when they'd have a full team again, they were told "it's being looked in to."
Ryan wasn't going to let that get him down, though. It was Saturday, but it was a special Saturday. He and Scott had made some super special plans. He'd managed to get two days off in a row from his restaurant gig. Well, not exactly off. He'd gotten Sunday off as promised, but he had to work a double to get tonight off as well.
None of this was going to get to him. This weekend was THEIR weekend! As he rung people up at the grocery, he put extra effort in his customer service. Even the typical Saturday nonsense wasn't getting to him. The plan was that when he got off, Scott would come and get him. Then, they'd go somewhere nice for a late lunch/early dinner. Then, they'd take a walk around the park. Finally, it would be back to Scott's place, hopefully for a bit of bedroom activity. Sunday would be dinner with Scott's parents again. Ryan could hardly wait!
The minutes passed slowly. Why was it taking so long for three o'clock to get here?! He was frustrated and excited at the same time. You might as well have told him you were taking him to Disney as he was spending the weekend with his boyfriend. He tried not to think about it too much, but his overnight bag was in his locker and he was ready to go!
Noon, one o'clock, two o'clock, two thirty, two forty five, two fifty... Any minute now, Scott would walk in the store's entrance, and their weekend would commence. Five till... The manager came to take him off the register. No sign of Scott. He couldn't have his phone on the sales floor, what if something happened and Scott had to cancel? No. Ryan had to be patient. That was very hard to do when you're antsy.
His shift was over. He went back to the break room to get his stuff. Still no sign of Scott. He checked his phone. No messages, no missed calls. He tried giving Scott a call, and it went straight to voicemail. A little disheartened, he gathered up his things. Maybe something came up and Scott was just busy? He left the break room and started making his way up front.
Someone tapped his shoulder. When he turned to look, there was nobody there. Then, from his opposite side, a familiar voice asked, "Ready to go?"