Work Text:
Nothing bothered Rusty. He rolled with the punches, he made life his partner, his friend. Nothing ever truly bothered Rusty.
Except John Wick.
It wasn’t jealousy (probably), he just couldn’t figure the man out. He was a mystery shrouded in enigma. It bothered him. John Wick bothered him.
It bothered him how John never called him Rusty. It was always Ryan. Ryan this, Ryan that. His name wasn’t Ryan. it was Rusty Ryan (technically it was Robert) and he went by Rusty. According to Danny people had nicknames in the world John came from so he truly could not understand why John had made Ryan the hill he wanted to die on.
Seeing John and Danny together and affectionate in public also bothered Rusty. It wasn’t grand public displays of affection, they where both oddly private individuals (the things a life of crime does to you), but it was the subtle things Rusty noticed. A touch here, a look there. The subtle things. The things only an ex could see.
Rusty wondered if John was jealous of his and Danny’s closeness. He hoped he was was.
No he didn’t. (Yes he did)
He loved seeing Danny happy with John. But he wanted Danny to be happy with him.
Rusty didn’t want to stay in love with Danny. To his credit he’d tried. He’d put himself out there, dated, fucked, but it wasn’t the same.
It wasn’t the same when Danny kept him close as his right hand man. It wasn’t the same when he shared a room with Danny and the only difference was the ring on his finger.
Rusty wanted space. Rusty wanted distance. But Danny was going to call, and Rusty as going to answer.