Right Back After This

Episode 22

Every sound could be the end of everything. The creaking door could vibrate through the bones of Riz's jaw, and maybe they'd figure out somehow exactly what he'd find here. There's a trail, however faint: human-operated cameras could point anywhere on the sand, so no matter how roundabout Ares walked, no matter how unlikely it was for those cameraman to be awake and following Riz- they could visually connect the two, audibly connect Riz opening this door. It's not impossible.

Ares is resting against the table, his fingers tapping in a self-soothing rhythm on the side of the tabletop. He looks Riz up and down, breathes a sigh of relief, and then gestures for Riz to step forward.

Riz complies, his anxiety buzzing through every bone in his body, so much so that he's surprised it's not audible in and of itself. Ares raises a hand to his jaw, tilting Riz's face ever so slightly up; he runs his fingers over his skin, finding the bump where Riz's mic sits, and then he hooks his fingers behind it and drags it suddenly forward.

It hurts, like the metal was dragged from its comfortable resting place under his skin, and Riz instinctively raises a hand up to it- and under his hand he hears three quiet beeps.

"We're good," Ares says. "You know it's worked when you hear that noise. It should erase the past thirty seconds or so automatically, and then it won't turn back on again for about forty-five minutes."

"About?" Riz asks cautiously. He's staring straight forward, still holding his jaw- some part of him doesn't quite believe it, that Ares would be telling the complete truth. That Riz could be standing here, knowing exactly how to find that silence for himself. Just like that. "How do we know when it's back on?"

"It'll beep again. Once at ten minutes before it turns back on, twice at five, and it'll go off three times again when it does restart. The failsafe exists so that we can prevent things going to air when you're live, so they made sure we know exactly when it's safe."

Riz closes his eyes. "Thank you. I- I actually can't express how much I needed..."

He doesn't quite get to finish those words, because Ares kisses him, and despite how little Riz has interrogated his feelings about kissing Amello, he's certain this isn't the same. It's not about the way either of them kissed him- both were soft, careful, full- it's about the why, the who. Amello shared something with him. Ares is taking something in return for what he's given.

Riz is torn between owing Ares this moment the way he wants it, and thinking Ares should be happy with what he's already gotten, what he's going to get. He puts a hand on Ares' chest, pushes him back with a careful touch. How does he gently say it?

The way Ares is studying him doesn't make it easy. He's staring intensely, like he's found something that Riz knows he hasn't found at all. "It's okay," Ares says quietly. "I'm going to make it okay."

Riz sighs lowly. "Can we make this simple?"

"What do you mean?"

Riz runs his hand over Ares' chest, down, sliding under Ares' shirt. "Right now, can we just... I don't want to think about anything else." 'Kiss me like you want me,' he wants to say, 'not like you love me'.

Ares tilts his head. Riz is starting to hate his little smirk. "Not even how we're going to get out of here?"

Riz feels a lot of things at that, but the first he can identify is disappointment. It's like someone poured cold water inside his abdominal cavity, and now his insides are too cold and heavy to carry. "We? Get out?"

Unfortunately, his words are not easily differentiable from idiotic, damsel-like confusion. He could just be some lovesick himbo, and not jaded and judgemental. When your eyes are pink with heart-shaped pupils, it's difficult to come across as rude as you really mean to be.