Ugh. This moved me to tears, love. You know how I feel about their African honeymoon. That with the masks motif and the connection to the copious amounts of Ryan we got the pleasure of seeing this season...I am a puddle on the ground, and happy to be thus.
Atlanta had in no way prepared him for Africa; his black friends had longer lineages in the Georgia soil, even America, than he did. So about five seconds off the plane he went back to the way he'd been as an intern at sixteen, or on his first television show with Merv: gut instincts guiding him, senses honed until he was all reaction. He would process what had happened in the night, writing it all down by hand in a journal. But this time he had Simon, and so he wrote it all over Simon's body, too.
But Ryan kept the sense memory for the rest of the day, and he knew Simon did, too, for he kept his left hand balled in a fist, as though he still had Ryan's hand in his and was hanging on for dear life.
Simon was waiting outside the editing closet, and Ryan couldn't help but grab his hand as he walked past him, and hope that Simon could keep it with him.
Ryan wanted to laugh at Simon's horrible singing, but he couldn't get a chuckle out because his throat was too tight with everything that he'd felt that evening, and with Simon even saying all of this out loud, so instead he swallowed and said, "'I Want to Hold Your Hand.' I always thought he said, 'I get high', not 'I can't hide.'" And Simon did laugh, but oddly, laughter didn't break the mood, but made it even sweeter, and he said, "No, Ryan," in his impatient way, and Ryan was pleased.
"And we can't hold hands on stage. In fact, I don't even want you to look at me, while I'm up there...I won't be able to hold it together if you do. No more masks for me."
Also, it was so lovely to see Nigel not being horrible! He's a fantastic guy! I want to have dinner with him and talk about Rymon antics!
And gah! John Donne?!?! You did not just quote John Donne in Rymon fic! He's my faaaaaavorite!!!
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Atlanta had in no way prepared him for Africa; his black friends had longer lineages in the Georgia soil, even America, than he did. So about five seconds off the plane he went back to the way he'd been as an intern at sixteen, or on his first television show with Merv: gut instincts guiding him, senses honed until he was all reaction. He would process what had happened in the night, writing it all down by hand in a journal. But this time he had Simon, and so he wrote it all over Simon's body, too.
But Ryan kept the sense memory for the rest of the day, and he knew Simon did, too, for he kept his left hand balled in a fist, as though he still had Ryan's hand in his and was hanging on for dear life.
Simon was waiting outside the editing closet, and Ryan couldn't help but grab his hand as he walked past him, and hope that Simon could keep it with him.
Ryan wanted to laugh at Simon's horrible singing, but he couldn't get a chuckle out because his throat was too tight with everything that he'd felt that evening, and with Simon even saying all of this out loud, so instead he swallowed and said, "'I Want to Hold Your Hand.' I always thought he said, 'I get high', not 'I can't hide.'"
And Simon did laugh, but oddly, laughter didn't break the mood, but made it even sweeter, and he said, "No, Ryan," in his impatient way, and Ryan was pleased.
"And we can't hold hands on stage. In fact, I don't even want you to look at me, while I'm up there...I won't be able to hold it together if you do. No more masks for me."
Also, it was so lovely to see Nigel not being horrible! He's a fantastic guy! I want to have dinner with him and talk about Rymon antics!
And gah! John Donne?!?! You did not just quote John Donne in Rymon fic! He's my faaaaaavorite!!!
I love you so much. So so so much for this. :D