That One Night | Standalone | Ryan/Brendon | ~6,000 Words.
Title: That One Night [Standalone]
Author: Kayla/x_lock_n_load_x
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
Summary: College has just let out for the summer and summer means parties and parties means alcohol and alcohol means....
Word Count: ~6,000
Disclaimer: Not real, don't own the characters, etc.
Author Notes: I wrote this for my dear friend who is leaving for the summer and wanted me to write something with a happy ending for once (because everything I ever finish is always depressing?) so this is for her. Title belongs to The Hunted...aka, the fictional band from The Office. Also, I wrote this in a relatively short amount of time so...yeah. And...italics = flashbacks.
“How you feeling, Bren?”
“Go away,” Brendon groans, turning on his side and pulling the comforter over his head.
“Come on, it’s two in the afternoon already. You need to get up. I have some Advil if you’re hung over.”
“I’m not,” Brendon’s voice comes from under the blanket.
“You sure? Because you were gone last night, dude.”
“Jon. Shut up. I’m not hung over,” he says, throwing the blanket off of him and sitting up. He grimaces, then falls back down onto the pillow. “Just kidding. Definitely hung over.”
“Thought so,” Jon smirks, placing two pills in Brendon’s outstretched hand.
“No water? You hoe.”
“Right there,” Jon says, pointing to the nightstand, used to Brendon’s abusive language when he’s hung over. He watches as Brendon downs the pills and the entire glass of water, falling back on the bed.
“So…,” Jon says, smiling as if he’s trying to hold back laughter. “Do you remember anything from last night?”
“Shut up.”
“What?” he laughs. “I’m just asking if you remember--”
“Shut up. Yes, I remember. Sort of. I don’t know. I wish I didn’t. I don’t want to think about it. Go away.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. He was…good looking, right?”
“He was gorgeous, Jon! I think. Ugh, that just makes it even worse!”
“Really, it’s not that bad,” Jon says.
“You obviously have no idea what you’re talking about! He was like, the image of perfection, okay? And then I…screwed it up! And I didn’t even get his name!”
“Well, I think…according to your arm, his name was Ryan. And he wanted you to call him,” Jon points out, and Brendon glances down at his forearm seeing the words “Call me! --Ryan” written in black marker, followed by a phone number.
“How’d that get there?” Brendon mumbles.
“So was that before or after the whole--”
“Jon, shut up! …Before.”
“Yeah, I figured, because you came running to me right after. So do you think he still wants you to call him?”
“Would you want me to call you after what happened?”
“Well, I wouldn’t be doing whatever it was that he was doing with you in the first place,” Jon says.
“Okay,” Brendon says, rolling his eyes, not amused. “If you gave a girl your number and then what happened happened, would you still want her to call you?”
“Usually it’s the girl that gives the guy her number.”
“Jon! You aren’t helping!”
“Oh, I’m sorry, was I supposed to be helping?”
“Jon!” Brendon whines, pushing his bottom lip out into a pout.
“I think you should call him,” Jon decides.
“What?! No way! I can’t call him! Are you crazy?!” Brendon practically yells and Jon sighs, shaking his head.
“You asked for my help.”
“Well, I didn’t think you’d give stupid help.”
“You’re very grumpy when hung over,” Jon comments.
“You’d be grumpy, too, if you had the night that I had last night, okay? Not only did I experience the most embarrassing moment of my entire life, I also ruined the fact that I was about to get laid. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had sex, Jon? Months! Months, okay? Months. It’s been so long that I’m close to giving myself carpal tunnel syndrome!”
“Why don’t you like, buy a dildo or something?”
“Jon!”
“Sorry. I was just trying to help you out with your carpal tunnel.”
“That’s not what I need help with,” Brendon says.
“I still think you should call…what was his name again? Oh yeah, Ryan,” Jon says, reading Brendon’s arm. “Oh my god, no way.”
“What?!” Brendon asks, and Jon looks closer at the number on Brendon’s arm before bursting out with laughter.
“That’s Ryan Ross!”
“What? Who’s Ryan Ross?!”
“Spencer’s roommate-slash-best friend!” Jon answers, still laughing hysterically.
“Spencer…as in your best friend after me, Spencer? Like, number three on your MySpace friends after Cassie and me? The one whose profile I always try to look at but can’t because it’s always set to private?”
“Yes!” Jon laughs, then stops, looking at Brendon. “And that’s kind of creepy.”
“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine, I’m just sayin’. So, uh. Ryan Ross. Wow. So it was him that you--”
“Shut up, Jon.”
“Sorry, sorry. Wow. I didn’t even know that he was gay.”
“Maybe he’s bi. Or curious. Or he could have just been really, really drunk.”
“Well, did he aim for vagina and get dick before he settled for ass?” Jon asks.
“I don’t know, we didn’t get that far,” Brendon grumbles.
“You mean It happened before there was even any like,…humping?!”
“That’s it, I’m done with this conversation,” Brendon says.
“Oh, come on! You know I’m just teasing.”
“Well, I don’t enjoy it. So…I’m done.”
“You know,” Jon smiles. “I’m probably going to see Ryan in the near future.”
“…You wouldn’t dare say anything,” Brendon growls.
“I might not,” he shrugs nonchalantly.
“Jon, you wouldn’t!”
“Who knows? I thought you were done with this conversation anyways. I’d better leave you alone to recover,” Jon smiles sweetly before turning out of Brendon’s bedroom.
“Jon, get back here!” Brendon yells, making an attempt to stand up, but suddenly feeling nauseous and needing to sit back down. “I hate you!”
“Love you, too, Bren!” Jon yells from their living room.
***
“Have you seen Jon? I can’t…I can’t find him,” Brendon says, stumbling and tripping over his own feet. He can’t really tell whose shoulder he has his hand on, but he thinks it’s someone he knows until the person turns around and it’s obvious that he’s never met this person before.
“Who are you looking for?”
“…Jon. You’re pretty,” Brendon smiles, looking up into the boy’s face. He smiles, turning away for a second, laughing a little bit, then turning back to look at Brendon.
“Um, thanks. Is it your friend that you’re looking for?”
“Yeah! Jon. I thought you were someone else, I thought you’d know where he was but you aren’t who you looked like from behind.”
“Ah, I’m sorry, I don’t think I know any Jons here tonight.”
“You’re like, really, really pretty, you know? Like, you could almost be like, a really pretty girl.”
“Uh…thank you?” the boy laughs.
“You know, I’m totally fucking trashed right now,” Brendon says.
“Yeah, I can tell.”
“You’re not drunk at all, are you?”
“I actually just got here not that long ago -- I had to work late tonight, so…I haven’t really gotten started yet.”
“Hey! I know where the kitchen is! Do you want to go get a drink? I need a refill, anyways!”
“Sure,” the boy nods, and Brendon grabs him by the wrist and begins to wind his way through the small crowds of people towards the kitchen. There’s a stack of red, plastic cups on the counter next to a few kegs of beer and several bottles of various liquors. Brendon grabs a cup, holding it out for the boy who takes it and fills it with beer.
“What’s your name?” the boy asks.
“Brendon.”
“Brendon. Hey, Brendon,” he says, looking down at the counter and seeing a black Sharpie, there for people to write their names on their cups, and picking it up, uncapping it. “You’re cute. I’m gonna write my number on your arm, okay? So you can call me some time…when you’re sober.”
“You mean you’re leaving me?!” Brendon pouts.
“No, no, I’m not leaving you. I just want to give it to you now, before…I forget it.”
“Oh, okay!” Brendon smiles, and holds out his arm. The boy pulls Brendon’s arm closer to him and begins to write “Call me! --Ryan” and then his phone number. When he’s finished, he drops Brendon’s arm and sets the marker back down on the counter.
“I’m Ryan, by the way.”
***
Later on in the day, after the Advil has kicked in, Brendon is feeling much better and much less hung over. There’s still the dull, nagging pain behind his eyes when he looks directly at a light, and there’s still the occasional pang of nausea that sets in every now and then, but other than that, he’s almost completely back to his normal self.
He’s alone in the apartment that he shares with Jon, and he’s not even sure where his roommate went. But he’s preoccupied anyways and he doesn’t even notice when Jon comes in until he says something.
“Hey, Brendon, what are you doing?” Jon asks, looking over Brendon’s shoulder at the desktop computer that they both share, located in their living room.
“Oh, Jon, hey. I hope you don’t mind, I hacked into your MySpace.”
“Again? I swear to god, if you put yourself as my number one in front of Cassie again--”
“No, no, I didn’t change anything! I just had to look at Spencer’s profile but it’s private so I had to come on your account to see it,” Brendon explains, and Jon gives him a quizzical look.
“Why…did you have to look at Spencer’s profile?” he asks.
“So I could find Ryan’s,” he answers. Jon sighs, rolling his eyes and falls down onto the couch adjacent to where their computer is set up.
“Brendon, you’re obsessed. …And how did you get onto my MySpace in the first place?”
“Uh, Jon, your passwords are so easy,” Brendon says, turning around. “Clover-Nine-One-Seven? Really? Your last password was Dylan-Nine-One-Seven. You need to make passwords that aren’t the names of your mom’s cats and the date of your birth.”
“They’re my cats, they just live with my mom, okay? It’s not my fault they don’t allow pets here.”
“Whatever, anyways, that’s not the point. I found Ryan’s MySpace, but for orientation, it says ‘straight’!”
“Hm,” Jon mumbles.
“Is he actually straight or is he closeted?” Brendon asks, turning around in the computer chair to look at Jon, who gives him a bewildered look.
“How would I know?!”
“You’re friends with him!”
“No, I’m friends with his friend. I’m acquaintances with him,” Jon corrects.
“Well, that’s still more than I am with him.”
“Well, it seems you know more about his sexuality than I would, seeing as how you probably would have banged him if you hadn’t--”
“Don’t…even,” Brendon interrupts. “And he would have banged me. There’s a difference.”
“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m not up with the homo lingo.”
“It’s not even lingo, it’s just a technicality.”
“Whatever.”
“You should ask Spencer!” Brendon says.
“…Ask Spencer…?”
“If Ryan is gay.”
“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that, Brendon,” Jon says.
“Why not?! He would know, wouldn’t he?”
“I don’t know, maybe, but I’m not just going to be like ‘Hey, Spencer, is your best friend who I don’t really even know that well gay?’ That’s just…no. I’m not doing it.”
“You are such a bad best friend, Jon!”
“I am not!”
“You’re a life-ruiner. You ruin peoples’ lives!”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re a fugly slut!”
“Brendon, stop quoting Mean Girls.”
“Boo, you whore!”
“Don’t you have a class tomorrow that you need to finish homework for or something?” Jon asks.
“Haha, it’s summer, that doesn’t work anymore.”
“Shit, you’re right.”
“Jon, will you please try to find out more about Ryan? And, you know…whether he’s gay or straight or bi or closeted or…whatever?” Brendon begs.
“Why? I thought you weren’t going to call him anyways.”
“I’m not! I just want to know.”
“You are so weird. I will never, ever understand what goes on in that head of yours.”
“…I’m gonna take that as a compliment, you know.”
“Yeah, you would.”
“Will you please find out for me?” Brendon asks again, and Jon sighs.
“Alright, I’ll make a deal with you.”
“Okay! What?!”
“If I find out that he is into guys…like, for real, like, not just wanting to experiment or whatever, you have to call him,” Jon says, and Brendon stares at him almost as if he’s never even seen him before.
“You’re joking, right?”
“No, I am not joking. If he’s gay…or bi, even, you have to call him. And the only reason I say you don’t have to call him if he’s curious is only because I love you and you’re my best friend and those types of guys hurt you way too often.”
“Oh my god, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Brendon smiles.
“I know, right? Like, two minutes after you called me a life-ruiner and a fugly slut and a whore, too.”
“You know I don’t mean that stuff, though.”
“Yeah, no, I know. But do we have a deal?”
“…Maybe.”
“Brendon.”
“…I don’t know.”
“Brendon!”
“Fine! Yes. We have a freaking deal, okay?”
“Okay. Good.”
***
“Don’t you think…you’ve had enough to drink?” Ryan laughs, holding onto Brendon’s wrist, stopping him from filling his red, plastic cup with more alcohol. Brendon giggles, shaking his head.
“No! You just think that because you haven’t had enough to drink!” he laughs, and he trips a little bit, spilling beer down the front of his shirt. He doesn’t even notice.
“That’s a lie! I’ve had a lot, okay? And I can’t hold my liquor very well!”
“You know, I never did find Jon!”
“So what? You’re having fun with me, right?”
“Yeah!”
“Hey, let’s go back outside,” Ryan says, and he leads Brendon back out onto the backyard of whatever house they’re at. It’s warm outside but the wind makes a pleasant breeze. There are several people outside, some smoking, others just sitting around.
“You’re really pretty,” Brendon says for what has to be the thousandth time that time. “And you have a really nice body, too. Like, you’re really skinny, but your hands and feet are big, but not like, in the oddly proportioned way, but in the I-Have-a-Big-Cock way, you know? Do you?”
“Do I know? Or do I have a big cock?” Ryan laughs.
“Um. …What?” Brendon says, appearing to have forgotten what he just said.
“I don’t know!” Ryan giggles, leaning over and using Brendon to support himself up, their faces only mere inches away from each other.
“Can I kiss you?” Brendon asks, and Ryan just nods.
***
It’s been several days since ‘the incident’, as Brendon prefers to call it and Jon hasn’t gotten anywhere in ‘the investigation’, as Brendon likes to call that. Jon insists that it takes time, but Brendon insists that he’s just being lazy, to which Jon will reply saying that he has no idea how Brendon became his best friend.
“You’re going out. You’re leaving me. You’re leaving me alone in the apartment at night when you know that I’m paranoid about people breaking in and murdering me, aren’t you?” Brendon asks, standing in the doorway of Jon’s bedroom, watching him pull on a T-Shirt.
“Yes, Brendon, I’m going out,” he answers.
“Why do you have to be so cool and popular? Really. Why can’t you be un-cool and unpopular so you can stay at home with me all the time?”
“Why don’t you become cool and popular so you can go out, too?” Jon smirks.
“Where are you going? Are you going out with Cassie again? Didn’t you just see her? I mean, I know you’re like, in love with her and all, but--”
“Brendon, you talk too much. I’m going to Spencer’s. You can come if you’d like,” Jon offers, and Brendon frowns.
“Is Ryan going to be there?” he asks.
“No, he’s going home for the weekend,” he tells him, and suddenly Brendon’s face brightens and a huge grin spreads over his lips.
“Oh my god, this is the perfect opportunity to find out about Ryan! Oh my god, I’ll totally come with you!”
“Do not make me regret inviting you, Brendon.”
***
He’s not sure if his lips are numb because he’s way too drunk, or if they’re numb because he’s been kissing Ryan for so long. Not that he really even cares because damn, Ryan is a good kisser. And he’s making a mental note to thank Jon later for getting lost at this party, otherwise he would have never met this fine stranger.
He lets out an almost angry noise when Ryan pulls away from him, and when he opens his eyes, Ryan is smiling at him, his lips red and puffy from all of the action. He leans in towards Brendon again, but goes right past his mouth so that his lips are hovering right next to his ear.
“When I get really drunk…,” he whispers, and his hand comes to rest high up on Brendon’s thigh. “I get really, really horny.”
“Oh my god, do me now.”
***
“Spencer, hey,” Jon says, and Brendon is standing behind him, peering over his shoulder. “This is my friend, Brendon.” Jon steps aside so that Brendon is no longer hidden and he smiles at Spencer, trying to search for any trace of recognition of his name on his face, like maybe, just maybe, Ryan had mentioned him to him.
“Hey, yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Spencer says.
“From Jon? You’ve heard about me from Jon?” Brendon clarifies.
“Yeah,” Spencer nods. “You guys can come on in.”
Brendon follows Jon into the apartment, and Brendon can’t help but look all around at the new surroundings until Jon leans over to him and whispers “Cut it out, you look like a freak.”
“So, you’re roommate's gone for the weekend?” Brendon asks, trying to act nonchalant and casual.
“Yeah. Family stuff,” Spencer answers.
“Ryan? Is that his name? I mean, Jon mentioned his name and uh….”
“Yeah,” Spencer nods with a laugh. “His name’s Ryan.”
“Oh. That’s cool,” Brendon nods, sitting down next to Jon on the couch in the living room while Spencer sits in the armchair nearby.
“So…do you know any gay guys?” Brendon asks, and Jon elbows him hard in the side.
“What?” Spencer asks, bewildered.
“Brendon…is just. Um, he’s going through a rough time. He…hasn’t…had sex in a very long time. In fact…he’s actually a virgin.”
“No I’m not!” Brendon cuts in.
“Yeah, he’s a big…virgin. He’s…never even seen a penis.”
“That’s not true! I have a penis! You’ve seen it!” Brendon says, and Spencer raises his eyebrows, looking at Jon.
“Yeah, I have, actually,” he admits. “Brendon likes to dance naked around our apartment to N*sync when no one’s home. …Or when he thinks no one is home.”
“It’s fun,” Brendon shrugs.
“So what Brendon was trying to ask when he asked if you knew any gay men, was…do you know anyone that you could hook him up with?”
“Hm…,” Spencer mumbles. “I don’t think so, I’m sorry.”
“Are you sure?” Brendon asks. “What about Ryan?”
“What about Ryan?!” Jon repeats, elbowing Brendon in the side again. “Does he know anyone?!”
“I have no idea. He might, I don’t really know.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Because Brendon really doesn’t want to die a virgin.”
“I’m not a virgin!” Brendon says again.
“No, but you are about to die,” Jon threatens. “So, Spencer, what do you say we put that movie on that we were talking about earlier?”
“Alright, sounds good,” Spencer agrees.
“Hey,” Brendon whispers to Jon while Spencer is busy getting whatever movie they had talked about watching earlier.
“What?” Jon asks, giving Brendon his annoyed eyes.
“Which one of those rooms is Ryan’s room?”
“Brendon, no.”
“Come on! I’ll be sneaky about it. I’ll excuse myself to go to the bathroom and then--”
“What do you even plan to do in there?”
“Find out if he’s gay or not. Duh.”
“What are you going to find in his room that will tell you if he’s gay?” Jon asks.
“Uh…. Gay porn? Dildos? Something from H&M?”
“Brendon, no. That is a…horrible, horrible idea.”
“Hey, I’ll be right back,” Brendon announces so that both Jon and Spencer can hear him. “I need to use the bathroom, is that it right over there?”
“Yeah, right there,” Spencer nods, and Brendon stands up, despite Jon’s whispered yells that he’s a complete idiot. He reaches the bathroom and closes the door to it without going inside, then looks at both bedrooms -- each of them on either sides of the bathroom, facing each other.
He makes the decision to go into the bedroom whose door is fully closed, hoping that it’s Ryan’s. When he goes in, he’s not sure if he’s in the right room because…he doesn’t know Ryan. He doesn’t know what Ryan is into, what his hobbies are, so he has no idea what he would expect to find in Ryan’s room. And the same applies to Spencer, so he really has no idea whose room he’s in.
That is, until he sees a wallet sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. He walks over to it, picking it up and opening it, and finding the drivers license of George Ryan Ross III. He chokes back a laugh at Ryan’s actual name and continues to look through his wallet, finding a credit card, a Blockbuster card, a library card, some cash, and…a condom. Brendon has to choke back a laugh again, until he hears a familiar voice in the living room that’s neither Jon nor Spencer.
“So I was like, halfway to my parents’ house -- which is only like fifteen minutes, but whatever -- when I realized that I left my wallet here. And that’s just not something that you can just not have for an entire weekend. So I had to turn around and waste more of my four-dollars-a-gallon gas to come back for my damn wallet.”
Brendon freezes, Ryan’s wallet in his hand. He’s very well aware of the fact that Ryan is coming to his room right now and that he is in there being a nosy creep, looking through his stuff, and he’s looking frantically around the room for a place to hide, and he’s trying to decide between the closet or under the bed when--
Ryan opens the door to his bedroom and Brendon comes face to face with him. Ryan jumps and looks like he was about to scream, but instead he just stares at Brendon, wide-eyed.
“Um…hi,” Brendon smiles, then holds out Ryan’s wallet to him.
***
“You know this is a really stupid idea? You know how easily someone could be able to see us?”
“Doesn’t that just make it hotter?” Ryan asks with a laugh, he and Brendon walking farther and farther out into the unknown backyard.
“Well, I guess if you’re into that kind of thing….”
“Plus, we’re right under the stars.”
“Yeah, that is pretty hot,” Brendon agrees, just as they reach their destination. Brendon watches as Ryan hoists himself up onto the trampoline before doing the same himself. He falls backwards, laughing, and he can see Ryan on his hands and knees, crawling towards the middle of the trampoline. He feels Ryan’s hands on him, pulling him towards the middle, pushing their bodies close together. His back hits the trampoline and Ryan’s hands are on his shoulders, his arms, his sides, tugging at his shirt.
They’re moving around and bouncing and they’re both kind of laughing as Ryan pulls Brendon’s shirt off, dropping it onto the mat of the trampoline. Brendon’s legs are spread, Ryan kneeling between them, and their mouths are attached while Brendon gropes at Ryan’s T-shirt, trying to pull it up and off of him.
They break away and Ryan’s shirt comes off and they’re back to kissing and feeling and…so much bouncing. And the idea of having sex on a trampoline seems even worse than just a bad idea to Brendon now because his stomach is doing odd flips and he wouldn’t be able to count the number of drinks he’s had tonight on two hands, even if he was sober, even if he did remember.
He wants to tell Ryan to stop, but he can’t even remember his name now -- does he even know his name? Did he ever even tell him his name?
It’s like a scene from a bad movie that he can’t stop. The contents of his stomach are flipping around and around, his heart rate is increasing and it’s like his saliva glands have decided to work overtime and Ryan is still on top of him, still kissing him, and he manages to pull away--
It all happens so fast. As soon as he opens his mouth to say something, the entire night’s worth of things put into his stomach comes pouring back up.
“OHMYGODI’MSOSORRY!” Brendon immediately yells, tears in the corners of his eyes because his throat fucking stings and burns from the acid in his puke, and Ryan is jumping up and -- shit. Brendon’s vomit is dripping down his bare back.
Brendon doesn’t even wait to see Ryan’s reaction, doesn’t want to hear him say anything, so he does the only thing that seems logical. He grabs his shirt, pushes himself off the trampoline, and runs.
***
Ryan is just staring at Brendon in his room and Brendon is still standing there, smiling like an idiot and holding Ryan’s wallet out to him like an idiot. And he feels like a total idiot. It’s like they’re both frozen there, but Brendon’s mind is racing with things along the lines of “Oh shit, what the fuck do I do now?!”
“Um,” Ryan finally says, and he looks around before closing the door to his bedroom and facing Brendon again. “What are you doing here?!”
“Here as in…your apartment or…here as in your room?” Brendon asks.
“…Both.”
“Well, I’m here in your apartment because uh, my friend Jon? Remember him, I think I’ve mentioned him before, you know, the last time we met… well, he’s friends with Spencer. Your…roommate Spencer. And…I decided to tag along with Jon to come over,” Brendon answers, trying desperately to sound casual and not make it very clear that he’s totally freaking the fuck out on the inside.
“Okay. …Why are you in my room?”
“Um, that’s actually…a very long and involved story.”
“Brendon!” Jon’s voice comes yelling from the doorway, where he’s opened the door and is now standing. “Ryan! Hey, Ryan, wow, you know, I am so sorry about this. This here…is my good friend who is a little bit retarded. And I don’t mean that in the you-call-your-friends-retarded way, I mean like, he’s actually…kind of slow. Mentally.”
“Jon, I’m handling this!” Brendon says, and then he sees Spencer in the doorway behind Jon and he’s pretty sure that it really can’t get any worse than this.
“What’s he doing in Ryan’s room?” Spencer mumbles.
“Oh god, it’s the longest story you’ll ever hear,” Jon grumbles back.
“See, I puked on him,” Brendon says, nodding, and Spencer looks bewildered, Jon looks shocked, and Ryan looks…amused.
“Hey, Spencer, let’s go…chat,” Jon says, and he pulls Spencer away from the doorway and closes the door, leaving Ryan and Brendon alone in the room together.
“Yeah,” Brendon nods. “I puked on you. And then I ran away. And then I cried to Jon and then I went home and then I woke up with what was probably the worst hang over of my life. And I noticed your phone number on my arm but I was -- and am -- so embarrassed about puking on you so I was all ‘hell no I can’t call’, but then Jon recognized your number or something and said that he knew you, so then I hacked onto Jon’s MySpace so I could find your MySpace but then your orientation said ‘straight’ so I was all like ‘what the hell’, you know? So I asked Jon to help me find out if you were really straight or if you were gay and then we were here and then I started snooping and then you caught me.”
“Wow…. You’re kind of a creep, you know that?” Ryan says, but it’s almost like it’s in a joking tone.
“Yeah. Yeah, I know that.”
“It would be kind of hot, but I still can’t get the image…or smell…or feel…of your vomit out of my mind.”
“So…are you straight or not?” Brendon asks, cocking an eyebrow.
“When you were on my MySpace profile, did you happen to see my last log-in date?”
“…No.”
“Because I haven’t been on that thing in like, over a year.”
“So you are gay?”
“Duh! Would I have almost had had sex with you on a trampoline in some random backyard at some lame party if I was straight?”
“But…. I asked Spencer if he knew of any gay guys and he said--”
“No? Because Spencer is an amazing friend and knows that I don’t feel like broadcasting to the entire world my homosexuality quite yet. I only came out like, ten or so months ago.”
“Oh,” Brendon says, and he feels like a complete and total idiot.
“You know, you’re really lucky that you’re cute. Because you’ve thrown up on me and then invaded my room, and yet I’m still going to ask you if you’re free next Friday.”
“You mean like…?!” Brendon smiles, and Ryan nods.
“Yeah.”
“Yes! I’m totally free! Free like a…slave after the Emancipation Proclamation!”
“Um….”
“Sorry, sometimes I say things that are neither appropriate or funny.”
“It’s kind of endearing.”
“Did I do it when I was drunk, too?”
“I don’t really remember. All I really remember is you puking on me.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much the only part I remember, too. I’m really, really sorry about that, by the way.”
“I guess sex on a trampoline wasn’t really a good idea.”
“Yeah, that was actually a really, really dumb idea.”
“Hey, don’t insult me, you’re the one who puked.”
***
“Hey, Jon, guess what tonight is!”
“Your date with Ryan. I know. You’ve been talking about it nonstop all week,” Jon says.
“Yeah, I know, but I’m so excited! You know, I haven’t been on an actual date since high school. This is a big deal for me! Ever since college started it’s just been hookups and wham-bam-thank-you-ma’ams and never an actual date.”
“So what are you guys doing tonight?”
“Wild animal sex,” Brendon answers, then laughs. “Just kidding, just kidding. Although it might lead to that. But no, um, we’re going to the movies. Typical first date kind of thing, you know? And then…I don’t know what after that. Might go get something to eat, I have no idea.”
“Oh, that’s cool. What movie?”
“The Strangers.”
“Um, Brendon? Aren’t you already paranoid about people breaking into your house and murdering you? Are you sure that’s the best movie for you to see?” Jon asks.
“I don’t know, Ryan picked it,” he shrugs. “Besides, if I get scared, I can just…hold his hand.”
***
“Oh my god, I hate you so much for making me see this movie. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” Brendon whispers, curled up in his chair in the movie theater, one hand covering his eyes, the other hand crushing Ryan’s with how tightly he’s holding onto it. Ryan laughs, looking at him at how pathetic he looks.
“It’s not even that scary!” he says.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Brendon whisper-yells, looking back up at the screen, just as another masked figure pops out of nowhere and he jumps and screams along with half of the other people in the movie theater, and Ryan is laughing at him.
“You should have told me that you’d be scared. We could have gone to see something different. Like…the Sex and the City movie.”
“Shut up. I hate you. This is the scariest movie I’ve ever seen. I’m never going to be able to sleep alone ever again.”
“You can sleep with me,” Ryan says, and it’s in the softest mumble, but Brendon hears it and he can’t help but to grin.
***
“So, you were really scared by that movie?” Ryan laughs, and they’re in Ryan’s car and Ryan is driving Brendon back home after their dates, and Brendon nods.
“Dude, yeah, it really scared the shit out of me.”
“Oh, well, I was just making sure because, you know, it could have just been an act so you’d have an excuse to hold my hand,” he smiles, and Brendon rolls his eyes playfully.
“I wish it was just an act, honestly. Oh my god, I’m so scared to walk up to my apartment alone,” Brendon says, once Ryan is parked in front of his apartment building.
“No ones going to jump out in a mask and kill you, Brendon, I promise,” Ryan says.
“You don’t know that! Oh my god, it’s dark and I don’t even think Jon is home, oh my god, Ryan, I’m so scared, you have to walk up with me or I’ll die of a heart attack before I even get there, if I’m not murdered on the way there, that is.”
“Fine,” Ryan laughs, turning the car off and unbuckling his seat belt. “Again, I think you might not really be scared and this might just be an act to get me in your apartment.”
“And I’m starting to think that that’s what you’re hoping for,” Brendon comments, and Ryan just smiles as the two of them begin to walk towards Brendon’s apartment.
He actually isn’t really that scared (anymore) and it kind of is just an act to get Ryan into his apartment, but it’s working and even if Ryan isn’t falling for it, he’s still coming with him.
Jon isn’t home (due to Brendon’s request that he actually go out for the night, as opposed to previous requests for him to stay home) and Brendon tosses his keys onto the kitchen counter and smiles at Ryan.
“So, this is my apartment,” he says, and Ryan nods.
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Wanna see my room?” he asks.
“Well, I think that’s only fair since you’ve seen my room, you know, without even having my permission and all,” Ryan smiles, and Brendon lets out a small, nervous-sounding giggle at the mention of his nosy creepiness.
“Anyways, it’s this way,” Brendon says, leading Ryan towards his room and opening the door. “And I obviously forgot to clean today,” he adds, inconspicuously trying to kick a pair of dirty boxers under his bed.
“Very nice. So…this is your bed?” Ryan asks casually.
“Yeah. That’s my bed,” Brendon nods.
“It’s a…nice bed.”
“Yeah. It is. Pretty comfortable, too.”
“Is it bouncy? Does it have springs? Because I don’t think that would be best for you.”
“Was that really necessary?” Brendon asks, and Ryan laughs, nodding.
“Yes, actually, it was.”
“So. Um….” Brendon says, looking around a little bit.
“Do you want to pick up where we left off that one night before you puked on me?” Ryan asks, and Brendon looks at him, almost relieved.
“Yes!” he practically yells, and then Ryan’s hands are on him, and his hands are on Ryan and they’re kissing and it’s wonderful. But then Ryan pulls away and looks Brendon straight in the eyes.
“How’s your stomach feeling now? Do you feel nauseous at all? Have you been drinking?”
“No -- oh my god. Did you just quote Mean Girls?”
“Yeah,” Ryan grins.
“Oh my god, you are…the perfect specimen of…human…man…thing,” Brendon gushes, so obviously infatuated.
“Human-man-thing. Grool.”
“Do me now,” Brendon demands, and Ryan laughs.
“You’re not gonna puke on me?”
“No! Oh my god, you’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Brendon asks, as they move closer and closer towards the bed.
“Never,” Ryan smiles before leaning in and kissing Brendon again.
THE END.
Author: Kayla/x_lock_n_load_x
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
Summary: College has just let out for the summer and summer means parties and parties means alcohol and alcohol means....
Word Count: ~6,000
Disclaimer: Not real, don't own the characters, etc.
Author Notes: I wrote this for my dear friend who is leaving for the summer and wanted me to write something with a happy ending for once (because everything I ever finish is always depressing?) so this is for her. Title belongs to The Hunted...aka, the fictional band from The Office. Also, I wrote this in a relatively short amount of time so...yeah. And...italics = flashbacks.
“How you feeling, Bren?”
“Go away,” Brendon groans, turning on his side and pulling the comforter over his head.
“Come on, it’s two in the afternoon already. You need to get up. I have some Advil if you’re hung over.”
“I’m not,” Brendon’s voice comes from under the blanket.
“You sure? Because you were gone last night, dude.”
“Jon. Shut up. I’m not hung over,” he says, throwing the blanket off of him and sitting up. He grimaces, then falls back down onto the pillow. “Just kidding. Definitely hung over.”
“Thought so,” Jon smirks, placing two pills in Brendon’s outstretched hand.
“No water? You hoe.”
“Right there,” Jon says, pointing to the nightstand, used to Brendon’s abusive language when he’s hung over. He watches as Brendon downs the pills and the entire glass of water, falling back on the bed.
“So…,” Jon says, smiling as if he’s trying to hold back laughter. “Do you remember anything from last night?”
“Shut up.”
“What?” he laughs. “I’m just asking if you remember--”
“Shut up. Yes, I remember. Sort of. I don’t know. I wish I didn’t. I don’t want to think about it. Go away.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. He was…good looking, right?”
“He was gorgeous, Jon! I think. Ugh, that just makes it even worse!”
“Really, it’s not that bad,” Jon says.
“You obviously have no idea what you’re talking about! He was like, the image of perfection, okay? And then I…screwed it up! And I didn’t even get his name!”
“Well, I think…according to your arm, his name was Ryan. And he wanted you to call him,” Jon points out, and Brendon glances down at his forearm seeing the words “Call me! --Ryan” written in black marker, followed by a phone number.
“How’d that get there?” Brendon mumbles.
“So was that before or after the whole--”
“Jon, shut up! …Before.”
“Yeah, I figured, because you came running to me right after. So do you think he still wants you to call him?”
“Would you want me to call you after what happened?”
“Well, I wouldn’t be doing whatever it was that he was doing with you in the first place,” Jon says.
“Okay,” Brendon says, rolling his eyes, not amused. “If you gave a girl your number and then what happened happened, would you still want her to call you?”
“Usually it’s the girl that gives the guy her number.”
“Jon! You aren’t helping!”
“Oh, I’m sorry, was I supposed to be helping?”
“Jon!” Brendon whines, pushing his bottom lip out into a pout.
“I think you should call him,” Jon decides.
“What?! No way! I can’t call him! Are you crazy?!” Brendon practically yells and Jon sighs, shaking his head.
“You asked for my help.”
“Well, I didn’t think you’d give stupid help.”
“You’re very grumpy when hung over,” Jon comments.
“You’d be grumpy, too, if you had the night that I had last night, okay? Not only did I experience the most embarrassing moment of my entire life, I also ruined the fact that I was about to get laid. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had sex, Jon? Months! Months, okay? Months. It’s been so long that I’m close to giving myself carpal tunnel syndrome!”
“Why don’t you like, buy a dildo or something?”
“Jon!”
“Sorry. I was just trying to help you out with your carpal tunnel.”
“That’s not what I need help with,” Brendon says.
“I still think you should call…what was his name again? Oh yeah, Ryan,” Jon says, reading Brendon’s arm. “Oh my god, no way.”
“What?!” Brendon asks, and Jon looks closer at the number on Brendon’s arm before bursting out with laughter.
“That’s Ryan Ross!”
“What? Who’s Ryan Ross?!”
“Spencer’s roommate-slash-best friend!” Jon answers, still laughing hysterically.
“Spencer…as in your best friend after me, Spencer? Like, number three on your MySpace friends after Cassie and me? The one whose profile I always try to look at but can’t because it’s always set to private?”
“Yes!” Jon laughs, then stops, looking at Brendon. “And that’s kind of creepy.”
“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine, I’m just sayin’. So, uh. Ryan Ross. Wow. So it was him that you--”
“Shut up, Jon.”
“Sorry, sorry. Wow. I didn’t even know that he was gay.”
“Maybe he’s bi. Or curious. Or he could have just been really, really drunk.”
“Well, did he aim for vagina and get dick before he settled for ass?” Jon asks.
“I don’t know, we didn’t get that far,” Brendon grumbles.
“You mean It happened before there was even any like,…humping?!”
“That’s it, I’m done with this conversation,” Brendon says.
“Oh, come on! You know I’m just teasing.”
“Well, I don’t enjoy it. So…I’m done.”
“You know,” Jon smiles. “I’m probably going to see Ryan in the near future.”
“…You wouldn’t dare say anything,” Brendon growls.
“I might not,” he shrugs nonchalantly.
“Jon, you wouldn’t!”
“Who knows? I thought you were done with this conversation anyways. I’d better leave you alone to recover,” Jon smiles sweetly before turning out of Brendon’s bedroom.
“Jon, get back here!” Brendon yells, making an attempt to stand up, but suddenly feeling nauseous and needing to sit back down. “I hate you!”
“Love you, too, Bren!” Jon yells from their living room.
***
“Have you seen Jon? I can’t…I can’t find him,” Brendon says, stumbling and tripping over his own feet. He can’t really tell whose shoulder he has his hand on, but he thinks it’s someone he knows until the person turns around and it’s obvious that he’s never met this person before.
“Who are you looking for?”
“…Jon. You’re pretty,” Brendon smiles, looking up into the boy’s face. He smiles, turning away for a second, laughing a little bit, then turning back to look at Brendon.
“Um, thanks. Is it your friend that you’re looking for?”
“Yeah! Jon. I thought you were someone else, I thought you’d know where he was but you aren’t who you looked like from behind.”
“Ah, I’m sorry, I don’t think I know any Jons here tonight.”
“You’re like, really, really pretty, you know? Like, you could almost be like, a really pretty girl.”
“Uh…thank you?” the boy laughs.
“You know, I’m totally fucking trashed right now,” Brendon says.
“Yeah, I can tell.”
“You’re not drunk at all, are you?”
“I actually just got here not that long ago -- I had to work late tonight, so…I haven’t really gotten started yet.”
“Hey! I know where the kitchen is! Do you want to go get a drink? I need a refill, anyways!”
“Sure,” the boy nods, and Brendon grabs him by the wrist and begins to wind his way through the small crowds of people towards the kitchen. There’s a stack of red, plastic cups on the counter next to a few kegs of beer and several bottles of various liquors. Brendon grabs a cup, holding it out for the boy who takes it and fills it with beer.
“What’s your name?” the boy asks.
“Brendon.”
“Brendon. Hey, Brendon,” he says, looking down at the counter and seeing a black Sharpie, there for people to write their names on their cups, and picking it up, uncapping it. “You’re cute. I’m gonna write my number on your arm, okay? So you can call me some time…when you’re sober.”
“You mean you’re leaving me?!” Brendon pouts.
“No, no, I’m not leaving you. I just want to give it to you now, before…I forget it.”
“Oh, okay!” Brendon smiles, and holds out his arm. The boy pulls Brendon’s arm closer to him and begins to write “Call me! --Ryan” and then his phone number. When he’s finished, he drops Brendon’s arm and sets the marker back down on the counter.
“I’m Ryan, by the way.”
***
Later on in the day, after the Advil has kicked in, Brendon is feeling much better and much less hung over. There’s still the dull, nagging pain behind his eyes when he looks directly at a light, and there’s still the occasional pang of nausea that sets in every now and then, but other than that, he’s almost completely back to his normal self.
He’s alone in the apartment that he shares with Jon, and he’s not even sure where his roommate went. But he’s preoccupied anyways and he doesn’t even notice when Jon comes in until he says something.
“Hey, Brendon, what are you doing?” Jon asks, looking over Brendon’s shoulder at the desktop computer that they both share, located in their living room.
“Oh, Jon, hey. I hope you don’t mind, I hacked into your MySpace.”
“Again? I swear to god, if you put yourself as my number one in front of Cassie again--”
“No, no, I didn’t change anything! I just had to look at Spencer’s profile but it’s private so I had to come on your account to see it,” Brendon explains, and Jon gives him a quizzical look.
“Why…did you have to look at Spencer’s profile?” he asks.
“So I could find Ryan’s,” he answers. Jon sighs, rolling his eyes and falls down onto the couch adjacent to where their computer is set up.
“Brendon, you’re obsessed. …And how did you get onto my MySpace in the first place?”
“Uh, Jon, your passwords are so easy,” Brendon says, turning around. “Clover-Nine-One-Seven? Really? Your last password was Dylan-Nine-One-Seven. You need to make passwords that aren’t the names of your mom’s cats and the date of your birth.”
“They’re my cats, they just live with my mom, okay? It’s not my fault they don’t allow pets here.”
“Whatever, anyways, that’s not the point. I found Ryan’s MySpace, but for orientation, it says ‘straight’!”
“Hm,” Jon mumbles.
“Is he actually straight or is he closeted?” Brendon asks, turning around in the computer chair to look at Jon, who gives him a bewildered look.
“How would I know?!”
“You’re friends with him!”
“No, I’m friends with his friend. I’m acquaintances with him,” Jon corrects.
“Well, that’s still more than I am with him.”
“Well, it seems you know more about his sexuality than I would, seeing as how you probably would have banged him if you hadn’t--”
“Don’t…even,” Brendon interrupts. “And he would have banged me. There’s a difference.”
“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m not up with the homo lingo.”
“It’s not even lingo, it’s just a technicality.”
“Whatever.”
“You should ask Spencer!” Brendon says.
“…Ask Spencer…?”
“If Ryan is gay.”
“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that, Brendon,” Jon says.
“Why not?! He would know, wouldn’t he?”
“I don’t know, maybe, but I’m not just going to be like ‘Hey, Spencer, is your best friend who I don’t really even know that well gay?’ That’s just…no. I’m not doing it.”
“You are such a bad best friend, Jon!”
“I am not!”
“You’re a life-ruiner. You ruin peoples’ lives!”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re a fugly slut!”
“Brendon, stop quoting Mean Girls.”
“Boo, you whore!”
“Don’t you have a class tomorrow that you need to finish homework for or something?” Jon asks.
“Haha, it’s summer, that doesn’t work anymore.”
“Shit, you’re right.”
“Jon, will you please try to find out more about Ryan? And, you know…whether he’s gay or straight or bi or closeted or…whatever?” Brendon begs.
“Why? I thought you weren’t going to call him anyways.”
“I’m not! I just want to know.”
“You are so weird. I will never, ever understand what goes on in that head of yours.”
“…I’m gonna take that as a compliment, you know.”
“Yeah, you would.”
“Will you please find out for me?” Brendon asks again, and Jon sighs.
“Alright, I’ll make a deal with you.”
“Okay! What?!”
“If I find out that he is into guys…like, for real, like, not just wanting to experiment or whatever, you have to call him,” Jon says, and Brendon stares at him almost as if he’s never even seen him before.
“You’re joking, right?”
“No, I am not joking. If he’s gay…or bi, even, you have to call him. And the only reason I say you don’t have to call him if he’s curious is only because I love you and you’re my best friend and those types of guys hurt you way too often.”
“Oh my god, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Brendon smiles.
“I know, right? Like, two minutes after you called me a life-ruiner and a fugly slut and a whore, too.”
“You know I don’t mean that stuff, though.”
“Yeah, no, I know. But do we have a deal?”
“…Maybe.”
“Brendon.”
“…I don’t know.”
“Brendon!”
“Fine! Yes. We have a freaking deal, okay?”
“Okay. Good.”
***
“Don’t you think…you’ve had enough to drink?” Ryan laughs, holding onto Brendon’s wrist, stopping him from filling his red, plastic cup with more alcohol. Brendon giggles, shaking his head.
“No! You just think that because you haven’t had enough to drink!” he laughs, and he trips a little bit, spilling beer down the front of his shirt. He doesn’t even notice.
“That’s a lie! I’ve had a lot, okay? And I can’t hold my liquor very well!”
“You know, I never did find Jon!”
“So what? You’re having fun with me, right?”
“Yeah!”
“Hey, let’s go back outside,” Ryan says, and he leads Brendon back out onto the backyard of whatever house they’re at. It’s warm outside but the wind makes a pleasant breeze. There are several people outside, some smoking, others just sitting around.
“You’re really pretty,” Brendon says for what has to be the thousandth time that time. “And you have a really nice body, too. Like, you’re really skinny, but your hands and feet are big, but not like, in the oddly proportioned way, but in the I-Have-a-Big-Cock way, you know? Do you?”
“Do I know? Or do I have a big cock?” Ryan laughs.
“Um. …What?” Brendon says, appearing to have forgotten what he just said.
“I don’t know!” Ryan giggles, leaning over and using Brendon to support himself up, their faces only mere inches away from each other.
“Can I kiss you?” Brendon asks, and Ryan just nods.
***
It’s been several days since ‘the incident’, as Brendon prefers to call it and Jon hasn’t gotten anywhere in ‘the investigation’, as Brendon likes to call that. Jon insists that it takes time, but Brendon insists that he’s just being lazy, to which Jon will reply saying that he has no idea how Brendon became his best friend.
“You’re going out. You’re leaving me. You’re leaving me alone in the apartment at night when you know that I’m paranoid about people breaking in and murdering me, aren’t you?” Brendon asks, standing in the doorway of Jon’s bedroom, watching him pull on a T-Shirt.
“Yes, Brendon, I’m going out,” he answers.
“Why do you have to be so cool and popular? Really. Why can’t you be un-cool and unpopular so you can stay at home with me all the time?”
“Why don’t you become cool and popular so you can go out, too?” Jon smirks.
“Where are you going? Are you going out with Cassie again? Didn’t you just see her? I mean, I know you’re like, in love with her and all, but--”
“Brendon, you talk too much. I’m going to Spencer’s. You can come if you’d like,” Jon offers, and Brendon frowns.
“Is Ryan going to be there?” he asks.
“No, he’s going home for the weekend,” he tells him, and suddenly Brendon’s face brightens and a huge grin spreads over his lips.
“Oh my god, this is the perfect opportunity to find out about Ryan! Oh my god, I’ll totally come with you!”
“Do not make me regret inviting you, Brendon.”
***
He’s not sure if his lips are numb because he’s way too drunk, or if they’re numb because he’s been kissing Ryan for so long. Not that he really even cares because damn, Ryan is a good kisser. And he’s making a mental note to thank Jon later for getting lost at this party, otherwise he would have never met this fine stranger.
He lets out an almost angry noise when Ryan pulls away from him, and when he opens his eyes, Ryan is smiling at him, his lips red and puffy from all of the action. He leans in towards Brendon again, but goes right past his mouth so that his lips are hovering right next to his ear.
“When I get really drunk…,” he whispers, and his hand comes to rest high up on Brendon’s thigh. “I get really, really horny.”
“Oh my god, do me now.”
***
“Spencer, hey,” Jon says, and Brendon is standing behind him, peering over his shoulder. “This is my friend, Brendon.” Jon steps aside so that Brendon is no longer hidden and he smiles at Spencer, trying to search for any trace of recognition of his name on his face, like maybe, just maybe, Ryan had mentioned him to him.
“Hey, yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Spencer says.
“From Jon? You’ve heard about me from Jon?” Brendon clarifies.
“Yeah,” Spencer nods. “You guys can come on in.”
Brendon follows Jon into the apartment, and Brendon can’t help but look all around at the new surroundings until Jon leans over to him and whispers “Cut it out, you look like a freak.”
“So, you’re roommate's gone for the weekend?” Brendon asks, trying to act nonchalant and casual.
“Yeah. Family stuff,” Spencer answers.
“Ryan? Is that his name? I mean, Jon mentioned his name and uh….”
“Yeah,” Spencer nods with a laugh. “His name’s Ryan.”
“Oh. That’s cool,” Brendon nods, sitting down next to Jon on the couch in the living room while Spencer sits in the armchair nearby.
“So…do you know any gay guys?” Brendon asks, and Jon elbows him hard in the side.
“What?” Spencer asks, bewildered.
“Brendon…is just. Um, he’s going through a rough time. He…hasn’t…had sex in a very long time. In fact…he’s actually a virgin.”
“No I’m not!” Brendon cuts in.
“Yeah, he’s a big…virgin. He’s…never even seen a penis.”
“That’s not true! I have a penis! You’ve seen it!” Brendon says, and Spencer raises his eyebrows, looking at Jon.
“Yeah, I have, actually,” he admits. “Brendon likes to dance naked around our apartment to N*sync when no one’s home. …Or when he thinks no one is home.”
“It’s fun,” Brendon shrugs.
“So what Brendon was trying to ask when he asked if you knew any gay men, was…do you know anyone that you could hook him up with?”
“Hm…,” Spencer mumbles. “I don’t think so, I’m sorry.”
“Are you sure?” Brendon asks. “What about Ryan?”
“What about Ryan?!” Jon repeats, elbowing Brendon in the side again. “Does he know anyone?!”
“I have no idea. He might, I don’t really know.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Because Brendon really doesn’t want to die a virgin.”
“I’m not a virgin!” Brendon says again.
“No, but you are about to die,” Jon threatens. “So, Spencer, what do you say we put that movie on that we were talking about earlier?”
“Alright, sounds good,” Spencer agrees.
“Hey,” Brendon whispers to Jon while Spencer is busy getting whatever movie they had talked about watching earlier.
“What?” Jon asks, giving Brendon his annoyed eyes.
“Which one of those rooms is Ryan’s room?”
“Brendon, no.”
“Come on! I’ll be sneaky about it. I’ll excuse myself to go to the bathroom and then--”
“What do you even plan to do in there?”
“Find out if he’s gay or not. Duh.”
“What are you going to find in his room that will tell you if he’s gay?” Jon asks.
“Uh…. Gay porn? Dildos? Something from H&M?”
“Brendon, no. That is a…horrible, horrible idea.”
“Hey, I’ll be right back,” Brendon announces so that both Jon and Spencer can hear him. “I need to use the bathroom, is that it right over there?”
“Yeah, right there,” Spencer nods, and Brendon stands up, despite Jon’s whispered yells that he’s a complete idiot. He reaches the bathroom and closes the door to it without going inside, then looks at both bedrooms -- each of them on either sides of the bathroom, facing each other.
He makes the decision to go into the bedroom whose door is fully closed, hoping that it’s Ryan’s. When he goes in, he’s not sure if he’s in the right room because…he doesn’t know Ryan. He doesn’t know what Ryan is into, what his hobbies are, so he has no idea what he would expect to find in Ryan’s room. And the same applies to Spencer, so he really has no idea whose room he’s in.
That is, until he sees a wallet sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. He walks over to it, picking it up and opening it, and finding the drivers license of George Ryan Ross III. He chokes back a laugh at Ryan’s actual name and continues to look through his wallet, finding a credit card, a Blockbuster card, a library card, some cash, and…a condom. Brendon has to choke back a laugh again, until he hears a familiar voice in the living room that’s neither Jon nor Spencer.
“So I was like, halfway to my parents’ house -- which is only like fifteen minutes, but whatever -- when I realized that I left my wallet here. And that’s just not something that you can just not have for an entire weekend. So I had to turn around and waste more of my four-dollars-a-gallon gas to come back for my damn wallet.”
Brendon freezes, Ryan’s wallet in his hand. He’s very well aware of the fact that Ryan is coming to his room right now and that he is in there being a nosy creep, looking through his stuff, and he’s looking frantically around the room for a place to hide, and he’s trying to decide between the closet or under the bed when--
Ryan opens the door to his bedroom and Brendon comes face to face with him. Ryan jumps and looks like he was about to scream, but instead he just stares at Brendon, wide-eyed.
“Um…hi,” Brendon smiles, then holds out Ryan’s wallet to him.
***
“You know this is a really stupid idea? You know how easily someone could be able to see us?”
“Doesn’t that just make it hotter?” Ryan asks with a laugh, he and Brendon walking farther and farther out into the unknown backyard.
“Well, I guess if you’re into that kind of thing….”
“Plus, we’re right under the stars.”
“Yeah, that is pretty hot,” Brendon agrees, just as they reach their destination. Brendon watches as Ryan hoists himself up onto the trampoline before doing the same himself. He falls backwards, laughing, and he can see Ryan on his hands and knees, crawling towards the middle of the trampoline. He feels Ryan’s hands on him, pulling him towards the middle, pushing their bodies close together. His back hits the trampoline and Ryan’s hands are on his shoulders, his arms, his sides, tugging at his shirt.
They’re moving around and bouncing and they’re both kind of laughing as Ryan pulls Brendon’s shirt off, dropping it onto the mat of the trampoline. Brendon’s legs are spread, Ryan kneeling between them, and their mouths are attached while Brendon gropes at Ryan’s T-shirt, trying to pull it up and off of him.
They break away and Ryan’s shirt comes off and they’re back to kissing and feeling and…so much bouncing. And the idea of having sex on a trampoline seems even worse than just a bad idea to Brendon now because his stomach is doing odd flips and he wouldn’t be able to count the number of drinks he’s had tonight on two hands, even if he was sober, even if he did remember.
He wants to tell Ryan to stop, but he can’t even remember his name now -- does he even know his name? Did he ever even tell him his name?
It’s like a scene from a bad movie that he can’t stop. The contents of his stomach are flipping around and around, his heart rate is increasing and it’s like his saliva glands have decided to work overtime and Ryan is still on top of him, still kissing him, and he manages to pull away--
It all happens so fast. As soon as he opens his mouth to say something, the entire night’s worth of things put into his stomach comes pouring back up.
“OHMYGODI’MSOSORRY!” Brendon immediately yells, tears in the corners of his eyes because his throat fucking stings and burns from the acid in his puke, and Ryan is jumping up and -- shit. Brendon’s vomit is dripping down his bare back.
Brendon doesn’t even wait to see Ryan’s reaction, doesn’t want to hear him say anything, so he does the only thing that seems logical. He grabs his shirt, pushes himself off the trampoline, and runs.
***
Ryan is just staring at Brendon in his room and Brendon is still standing there, smiling like an idiot and holding Ryan’s wallet out to him like an idiot. And he feels like a total idiot. It’s like they’re both frozen there, but Brendon’s mind is racing with things along the lines of “Oh shit, what the fuck do I do now?!”
“Um,” Ryan finally says, and he looks around before closing the door to his bedroom and facing Brendon again. “What are you doing here?!”
“Here as in…your apartment or…here as in your room?” Brendon asks.
“…Both.”
“Well, I’m here in your apartment because uh, my friend Jon? Remember him, I think I’ve mentioned him before, you know, the last time we met… well, he’s friends with Spencer. Your…roommate Spencer. And…I decided to tag along with Jon to come over,” Brendon answers, trying desperately to sound casual and not make it very clear that he’s totally freaking the fuck out on the inside.
“Okay. …Why are you in my room?”
“Um, that’s actually…a very long and involved story.”
“Brendon!” Jon’s voice comes yelling from the doorway, where he’s opened the door and is now standing. “Ryan! Hey, Ryan, wow, you know, I am so sorry about this. This here…is my good friend who is a little bit retarded. And I don’t mean that in the you-call-your-friends-retarded way, I mean like, he’s actually…kind of slow. Mentally.”
“Jon, I’m handling this!” Brendon says, and then he sees Spencer in the doorway behind Jon and he’s pretty sure that it really can’t get any worse than this.
“What’s he doing in Ryan’s room?” Spencer mumbles.
“Oh god, it’s the longest story you’ll ever hear,” Jon grumbles back.
“See, I puked on him,” Brendon says, nodding, and Spencer looks bewildered, Jon looks shocked, and Ryan looks…amused.
“Hey, Spencer, let’s go…chat,” Jon says, and he pulls Spencer away from the doorway and closes the door, leaving Ryan and Brendon alone in the room together.
“Yeah,” Brendon nods. “I puked on you. And then I ran away. And then I cried to Jon and then I went home and then I woke up with what was probably the worst hang over of my life. And I noticed your phone number on my arm but I was -- and am -- so embarrassed about puking on you so I was all ‘hell no I can’t call’, but then Jon recognized your number or something and said that he knew you, so then I hacked onto Jon’s MySpace so I could find your MySpace but then your orientation said ‘straight’ so I was all like ‘what the hell’, you know? So I asked Jon to help me find out if you were really straight or if you were gay and then we were here and then I started snooping and then you caught me.”
“Wow…. You’re kind of a creep, you know that?” Ryan says, but it’s almost like it’s in a joking tone.
“Yeah. Yeah, I know that.”
“It would be kind of hot, but I still can’t get the image…or smell…or feel…of your vomit out of my mind.”
“So…are you straight or not?” Brendon asks, cocking an eyebrow.
“When you were on my MySpace profile, did you happen to see my last log-in date?”
“…No.”
“Because I haven’t been on that thing in like, over a year.”
“So you are gay?”
“Duh! Would I have almost had had sex with you on a trampoline in some random backyard at some lame party if I was straight?”
“But…. I asked Spencer if he knew of any gay guys and he said--”
“No? Because Spencer is an amazing friend and knows that I don’t feel like broadcasting to the entire world my homosexuality quite yet. I only came out like, ten or so months ago.”
“Oh,” Brendon says, and he feels like a complete and total idiot.
“You know, you’re really lucky that you’re cute. Because you’ve thrown up on me and then invaded my room, and yet I’m still going to ask you if you’re free next Friday.”
“You mean like…?!” Brendon smiles, and Ryan nods.
“Yeah.”
“Yes! I’m totally free! Free like a…slave after the Emancipation Proclamation!”
“Um….”
“Sorry, sometimes I say things that are neither appropriate or funny.”
“It’s kind of endearing.”
“Did I do it when I was drunk, too?”
“I don’t really remember. All I really remember is you puking on me.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much the only part I remember, too. I’m really, really sorry about that, by the way.”
“I guess sex on a trampoline wasn’t really a good idea.”
“Yeah, that was actually a really, really dumb idea.”
“Hey, don’t insult me, you’re the one who puked.”
***
“Hey, Jon, guess what tonight is!”
“Your date with Ryan. I know. You’ve been talking about it nonstop all week,” Jon says.
“Yeah, I know, but I’m so excited! You know, I haven’t been on an actual date since high school. This is a big deal for me! Ever since college started it’s just been hookups and wham-bam-thank-you-ma’ams and never an actual date.”
“So what are you guys doing tonight?”
“Wild animal sex,” Brendon answers, then laughs. “Just kidding, just kidding. Although it might lead to that. But no, um, we’re going to the movies. Typical first date kind of thing, you know? And then…I don’t know what after that. Might go get something to eat, I have no idea.”
“Oh, that’s cool. What movie?”
“The Strangers.”
“Um, Brendon? Aren’t you already paranoid about people breaking into your house and murdering you? Are you sure that’s the best movie for you to see?” Jon asks.
“I don’t know, Ryan picked it,” he shrugs. “Besides, if I get scared, I can just…hold his hand.”
***
“Oh my god, I hate you so much for making me see this movie. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” Brendon whispers, curled up in his chair in the movie theater, one hand covering his eyes, the other hand crushing Ryan’s with how tightly he’s holding onto it. Ryan laughs, looking at him at how pathetic he looks.
“It’s not even that scary!” he says.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Brendon whisper-yells, looking back up at the screen, just as another masked figure pops out of nowhere and he jumps and screams along with half of the other people in the movie theater, and Ryan is laughing at him.
“You should have told me that you’d be scared. We could have gone to see something different. Like…the Sex and the City movie.”
“Shut up. I hate you. This is the scariest movie I’ve ever seen. I’m never going to be able to sleep alone ever again.”
“You can sleep with me,” Ryan says, and it’s in the softest mumble, but Brendon hears it and he can’t help but to grin.
***
“So, you were really scared by that movie?” Ryan laughs, and they’re in Ryan’s car and Ryan is driving Brendon back home after their dates, and Brendon nods.
“Dude, yeah, it really scared the shit out of me.”
“Oh, well, I was just making sure because, you know, it could have just been an act so you’d have an excuse to hold my hand,” he smiles, and Brendon rolls his eyes playfully.
“I wish it was just an act, honestly. Oh my god, I’m so scared to walk up to my apartment alone,” Brendon says, once Ryan is parked in front of his apartment building.
“No ones going to jump out in a mask and kill you, Brendon, I promise,” Ryan says.
“You don’t know that! Oh my god, it’s dark and I don’t even think Jon is home, oh my god, Ryan, I’m so scared, you have to walk up with me or I’ll die of a heart attack before I even get there, if I’m not murdered on the way there, that is.”
“Fine,” Ryan laughs, turning the car off and unbuckling his seat belt. “Again, I think you might not really be scared and this might just be an act to get me in your apartment.”
“And I’m starting to think that that’s what you’re hoping for,” Brendon comments, and Ryan just smiles as the two of them begin to walk towards Brendon’s apartment.
He actually isn’t really that scared (anymore) and it kind of is just an act to get Ryan into his apartment, but it’s working and even if Ryan isn’t falling for it, he’s still coming with him.
Jon isn’t home (due to Brendon’s request that he actually go out for the night, as opposed to previous requests for him to stay home) and Brendon tosses his keys onto the kitchen counter and smiles at Ryan.
“So, this is my apartment,” he says, and Ryan nods.
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Wanna see my room?” he asks.
“Well, I think that’s only fair since you’ve seen my room, you know, without even having my permission and all,” Ryan smiles, and Brendon lets out a small, nervous-sounding giggle at the mention of his nosy creepiness.
“Anyways, it’s this way,” Brendon says, leading Ryan towards his room and opening the door. “And I obviously forgot to clean today,” he adds, inconspicuously trying to kick a pair of dirty boxers under his bed.
“Very nice. So…this is your bed?” Ryan asks casually.
“Yeah. That’s my bed,” Brendon nods.
“It’s a…nice bed.”
“Yeah. It is. Pretty comfortable, too.”
“Is it bouncy? Does it have springs? Because I don’t think that would be best for you.”
“Was that really necessary?” Brendon asks, and Ryan laughs, nodding.
“Yes, actually, it was.”
“So. Um….” Brendon says, looking around a little bit.
“Do you want to pick up where we left off that one night before you puked on me?” Ryan asks, and Brendon looks at him, almost relieved.
“Yes!” he practically yells, and then Ryan’s hands are on him, and his hands are on Ryan and they’re kissing and it’s wonderful. But then Ryan pulls away and looks Brendon straight in the eyes.
“How’s your stomach feeling now? Do you feel nauseous at all? Have you been drinking?”
“No -- oh my god. Did you just quote Mean Girls?”
“Yeah,” Ryan grins.
“Oh my god, you are…the perfect specimen of…human…man…thing,” Brendon gushes, so obviously infatuated.
“Human-man-thing. Grool.”
“Do me now,” Brendon demands, and Ryan laughs.
“You’re not gonna puke on me?”
“No! Oh my god, you’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Brendon asks, as they move closer and closer towards the bed.
“Never,” Ryan smiles before leaning in and kissing Brendon again.
THE END.