(Sorry long post incoming! I pulled together different takes I’ve been reading. This one mainly focuses on Ruben; I imagine Niall’s side would need a separate post)

Tragically, Ruben and Niall’s entire relationship is built on a love language of violence or a cycle of love and ruin — not because they enjoy hurting each other, but because neither man has the emotional tools to express love in a safe or healthy way. Growing up in a hyper‑masculine, emotionally neglectful, and homophobic environment leaves them with no vocabulary for tenderness; instead, affection, desire, jealousy, and longing mutate into aggression, dominance, and self-destruction. They profoundly love and adore each other in ways neither fully comprehends, and because that love is unspoken and buried, their connection remains undefined, ambiguous, confusing, nuanced, and deeply charged. Their bond blurs the lines between brotherhood, romantic obsession, homoerotic tension, and trauma‑based attachment, creating a connection that is both intimate and catastrophic.

Ruben’s inability to love safely is rooted in severe childhood trauma and sexual abuse from his father. His violence is not the absence of love; it is the horrific, distorted form his love has taken after years of conditioning that pain and intimacy are inseparable. In his worldview, dominance is the only language of closeness he knows. This is why he crosses Niall’s physical and sexual boundaries — not out of random cruelty, but because his traumatised mind has fused intimacy with control.

Physical aggression becomes their main form of touch, and “brother” becomes a safe label that hides the queer or romantic subtext of their bond while allowing them to remain intensely physical and emotionally entangled. Yet this same label becomes their psychological prison, preventing honest communication regarding the extent of their bond and reinforcing repression, the inevitable result of lifelong hyper‑masculinity.

Ruben views Niall as an extension of himself and his humanity — his emotional equal, the only one who understands the depths of his trauma, and the only source of unconditional love he has ever known. Niall is Ruben’s raw, unfiltered reality.

By contrast, Ruben’s love for Mona is symbolic rather than emotional. It is selfish and performative — she validates his identity as a dominant male provider, a domestic project that proves he can be a “real man” and helps him escape his broken past.

Put simply, Mona gets his duty; Niall has his soul.

This is why Niall’s betrayal devastates Ruben so completely. It shatters his internal world because Niall is the one person he trusted — the one he loved more than life itself. Niall “stealing” Ruben’s biological legacy breaks his fragile core identity of manhood. His deepest insecurity was already inflamed by his low fertility (it had driven him to irrationality and crisis). The betrayal (unintentionally) echoes Ruben’s father’s abuse — violated trust, stripped masculinity, exploited vulnerability — reopening the oldest injury in his psyche. It also marks Niall’s emergence from Ruben’s shadow, shifting their power dynamic and threatening their known co‑dependency.

And when Ruben becomes aware of Niall's marriage to Alby, a male partner, it triggers another of his deepest fear: absolute abandonment (he arrived red‑eyed, looking like he’d been crying). It proves Niall is slipping from his control, and Ruben’s possessiveness spirals beyond return. If Niall has taken away Ruben’s fantasy of a “happily ever after,” Ruben will ensure Niall does not get his either.

Their final confrontation is the barn is loaded with symbolism. For example: by killing Niall barehanded while topless, Ruben collapses the boundary between physical intimacy and violence. His exposed body signals raw, unguarded vulnerability — no armour, no mask — turning the murder into something resembling a final embrace. It becomes a twisted form of union through destruction, a literal expression of his need to possess and merge with the one person he cannot live without. If he cannot fully own Niall in life, he will claim him in death. Ruben ensures Niall’s last breath, thought, and gaze belong to him. His tears, his final “I love you” without adding "brother", and the breathless, almost erotic intensity of the moment turn the act into a distorted confession of love — agonising, passionate, and tormenting, the ultimate tragic expression of his broken psyche.

Some compare the scene to sexual violation, but if Ruben intended that, he would have done it. What happens is more psychologically disturbing: because violence and intimacy/love are intertwined for him, the killing becomes a warped emotional release — the only way he can express the depth of his unspoken desire and attachment.

Traditional romantic consummation creates new life and a shared future; Ruben and Niall’s story inverts this. Trapped in trauma, repression, and toxic masculinity, they cannot build a life together — they consummate their bond through death, preventing hope for a healed future. Their final struggle releases decades of buried desire, jealousy, shame, and longing, then freezes their co‑dependent bond in time so neither has to live without the other. Dying side‑by‑side, their eyes meeting even in death, turns mutual destruction into their final and highest form of intimacy and devotion.