"Ryan.....?"

Another knock on his door had the hazel eyed man sighing beneath his breath.

He closed his eyes and kept his knees to his chest, head against the hotel door as he exhaled slowly.

This was the last thing he needed.

There was a shuffling and a rustling that he could only assume was his friend awkwardly re-situating himself on his side of the door.

"Ryan....??"

It came more urgent this time, more worried, accompanied by a harder knock and a louder voice.

"Ryan....everyone is wondering where you went. Are you okay?"

Ryan couldn't help the small tear that ran down his cheek, his nerves buzzing with fear and disbelief as he looked down at the delicate blue design that had etched its way onto the underside of his wrist just an hour ago.

He mumbled a quick "I'm fine" before running a finger across the new tattoo, taking in the soft colors and sharp edges of the ink.

It was a small blue teddy bear wearing a hockey mask, and the second he had seen it, he knew exactly what it was.

Or rather, who it was.

He heard Brock calling his name a few more times on the other side of the door, to which he answered with a short "Be down soon". Louder than his last answer.

Ryan heard Brock's hesitant "Alright", accompanied by a sigh, and soon enough, the group's "mother" disappeared down the hall, leaving the crisis-ridden male to himself.

He stared at the hockey mask, the little red triangles bright against his pale skin.

It wasn't like he was upset or angry over the information he now knew. Hell, how could he be?

He was more terrified, nervous.

Shaken up and still trying to figure out if this was real, if it wasn't just some nightmare. Or dream. Maybe a bit of both.

After all, it's not everyday you fall in love with your best friend...

But really, Ryan knew this was bound to happen. The second he laid eyes on the man, he was captivated.

The second the two started hanging out, a bond was formed. One that would stay.

And the second they shared their first kiss, just an hour before, the tattoo had shown itself finally.

It had been an accident, really.

Everyone was pretty drunk, well, wasted. No one was in their right mind.

That's what he told himself.

Evan had thrown a birthday party for Tyler, they rented out a club and everything, (Evan was known to go all out for the people he cared about, and his boyfriend would be no exception) the whole gang was having fun, doing shots, just being guys.

But then, one thing led to another, and Ryan found himself in the bathroom, pinning Jonathan up against the wall, hands roaming aimlessly over the smaller man's body, lips tasting every inch of available skin.

Moans had pierced through the stale air, hands clenching and unclenching at his back as those beautiful noises were drawn from cherry red lips.

It was at that point that Ryan realized he was officially screwed.

Because, while Jonathan breathed into his neck with puffs of air that drove him crazy, while those blue orbs dilated and glazed over with lust and need, while agile legs wrapped around his waist and squeezed tightly, all while this was going on, Ryan could feel the undeniable pin pricking sensation of a soulmate tattoo on his wrist.

But he couldn't stop himself.

He couldn't stop himself from taking the younger's breath in his mouth, couldn't stop himself from leaving bite marks and bruises on his pale neck, couldn't stop himself from rotating his hips ever so slightly and moaning at the friction between the two bodies.

He couldn't stop, and to be completely honest, he was positive that he would've continued, taken things all the way, given himself up completely, if it hadn't been for the sudden open door and a very drunk Craig stumbling to the sink, smiling and winking suggestively at the two in the bathroom mirror.

Jonathan had practically jumped out of Ryan's grasp, covering his marked neck with his hoodie and staring at Craig, face red and unsure.

Ryan shoved his hands in his jean pockets and rocked on his heels, his own blush crawling up to take refuge on his face.

The drunken male motioned for Jonathon to come closer, and as he did, he whispered something in his ear that had Jon rolling his eyes and blushing even harder.

After, Craig shouted something incomprehensible and dragged Jonathan away, winking at Ryan and telling him something along the lines of  "we'll be back later." And some other drunken words that Ryan couldn't possibly decipher.

He had taken that time to look down at his wrist, freshly inked wrist, and felt his heart drop.

Next thing he knew, he found himself in his hotel, only a street down from the club, panicking at his newfound love and what it meant.

The room was cold and unapologetic, not helping him in his current situation.

He wanted nothing more than to go back to the party, but he also really wanted to crawl underneath his covers and sleep forever, or wake up and realize everything, all of this, was just a dumb dream.

He wanted to run at Jonathan and kiss him senseless. But he also wanted to delete the man out of his life forever, pretend this had never happened.

How easy that would make things.

He didn't really know what to do.

He didn't even know if Jonathan had his tattoo yet. Or if he would ever get it.

Damn, here come the panicked thoughts.

What if Ryan wasn't Jonathan's soulmate? He had heard of that, it was rare but true. Some people had a tattoo of their soulmate, only to find that their soulmate had a tattoo for someone else.

It was unrequited love. It wasn't supposed to happen. The system was supposed to be flawless, everyone got to have a love.

But, everything has flaws.

And some people get unrequited love as a result.

Ryan felt his heart drop when he remembered.

Craig had it-has it.

He told Ryan himself, about a year ago. He told Ryan because he was too good at keeping secrets and he trusted Ryan to keep this one. And Ryan kept that secret.

He even showed Ryan the tattoo.

One look with hazel eyes and he knew exactly who Craig had fallen for.

Coloring a small part of Craig's shoulder was a detailed inking of a pig wearing a white helmet.

Of course, said piggy already had a tattoo on his bicep of an owl in a magician's tophat. And the owl? Well, he had made it entirely clear that his soulmate mark was the pig in the white helmet on his own bicep, completely unknown to them both was that he and Craig loved the same man.

But Tyler had made it perfectly clear who he truly loved.

And Ryan was fucking terrified of the same thing happening to him.

What if Jon had a tattoo for Luke? Yeah, he had told Ryan time after time that he and Luke were like brothers, but what if fate said otherwise.

He didn't want to think about that.

He let his head fall back against the wooden door in emotional exhaustion, hands shaking, heart aching. He had never been in such an anxiety inducing situation. This was something that would determine the rest of his life. This was something that would label him not only in his friends, but in the world.

Ryan had never been more petrified, ready to bawl, in his entire life.

He was absolutely freaking out, and as he pulled himself up from the ground, only to collapse on the couch, he realized just how fucked he was.

Because tears were now doing free falls off of his face, jumping off his cheeks and chin, landing on the pillow in his lap. And he couldn't even stop them. He just stared at his branded wrist in awe and internal agony, colors and lines blurred from teary eyes, but it didn't make his predicament any less visible.

How was he ever gonna face Jonathan? He couldn't just avoid him for the rest of his life. He saw the man almost everyday. He talked to the man almost everyday. For fuck's sake, he was sharing a hotel room with the man right now.

Ryan pulled the pillow towards him, half his face smothered, eyes and nose peeking out from the fabric, fists clenching the soft material as a sort of safety net.

His thoughts were running a mile a minute and he hated it. He hated himself. Mostly for acting so terrible on the situation. It was like he couldn't even try to pull himself together.

But Jonathan just had that affect on him.

He often felt completely dissected and laid out bare when with the black haired man. He opened up and told him everything, whether it be about Buddy or his rocky past, that he hardly went over with even his parents.

He told Jonathan the simplest of things, told him the most complicating things.

And he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't love the man. Although, he couldn't say that to himself now, could he?

He really did love Jonathan.

And he had to come to terms with it. But it was so hard, especially when he had to think about the possible outcomes. And when his mind conjured up as many as possible, he could only seem to find himself touching on the negative ones.

Ryan was a very anxious person. He often made his anxiety worse, not necessarily meaning to, but just because it was what his brain did.

Jonathan was the only person who knew that about him.

Everything always went back to Jonathan.

No matter what he did or said in this moment, everything went back to the man with electric blue eyes and soft black hair. It was like he was being forced to think about him. But was that a really a bad thing?

"I guess no-"

His hoarse voice was interrupted by the door opening slowly.

Ryan felt his stomach completely drop and his heart beat at a rate that should've been impossible. Only one other person had a key to the door, and he found himself cursing beneath his breath for letting this small piece of information continuously slip his mind.

"Ryan?" It was careful and soft, so unlike the voice that usually belonged to the shorter male. "Ry, you in here?"

Ryan couldn't help himself as his anxiety took hold and he found himself shaking uncontrollably, hugging the pillow tightly to his chest and breathing shaky breaths that were filled with little air.

Any minute now Jon would turn the corner and see him on the couch. He would probably be weirded out, he would probably run away and avoid Ryan for the rest of his life. Ryan's shaking would be too much for him to handle and he would leave the older male there to cry all over again.

Ryan began trying to prepare himself, but he kept shaking, very visibly, he kept feeling tears push their way out of his eyes, and he kept doubting everything about Jonathan. And as he saw a single blue converse peek out from the corner, he realized he didn't have the self control to keep himself from breaking down all over again.

And then all of a sudden Jonathan's head peeked out from the corner. And as he witnessed the scene before him, he felt his chest tighten and heart ache a little.

Ryan was crying.

Actually, Ryan was sobbing.

It took him a minute to realize why, but when he saw the smallest mark of blue on the man's wrist, he suddenly knew exactly what this was about.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened to the brunette.

"Oh, Ryan...." He found himself stumbling towards the couch, setting himself down lightly and pulling Ryan's head into his lap, taking his marked wrist and rubbing soothing circles on the ink branded skin.

Jonathan wasn't one for comforting people. He was very awkward, but when it came to Ryan, he seemed to know just the right thing to do.

And he told himself it had nothing to do with the matching tattoo on his own wrist.

But really, it had everything to do with the small bunny wearing an omega mask that now delicately made a home on his skin.

And as he pulled his blue sweater sleeve up for his true love to see, he couldn't help the blush that crawled up his cheeks from remembering the encounter from an hour ago.

He felt shaking shoulders cease and tearful sniffles calm as a soft hand wrapped around his pale arm, careful fingers tracing gray and black lines, almost hesitantly, as if it wasn't real.

As if there'd be no way in Hell that Jonathan could love Ryan.

But it was very much happening, and so he could feel Ryan's hazel eyes on his own blue ones, looking up at him from his spot on Jon's lap.

His words were a bit hushed and somewhat scared, but that didn't stop Jon from listening.

It never did.

"You..." it was slow and unsure. "You have...."

Ryan's words came to a halt, for some reason his mouth couldn't form what he truly wanted to say. But Jon didn't need him to finish, he knew exactly what it meant and he could answer the half asked question/revelation.

"Yeah, I do. And it looks like you do as well."

He leaned down to place a small, testing kiss onto Ryan's chapped lips.

Lips that, even though they were dry, Jon didn't mind kissing one bit.

And as Ryan pulled him back in for a deeper, more meaningful kiss, Jonathan had the feeling he didn't mind so much either.