(I Watch) The Sky Coming Down To Bury Me - Chapter 2
Header and Prologues
Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four & Five - Chapter Six, Seven & Eight
Bonus Content
Chapter 2: I Get Off, and You Know Why
Ryan's trying to pull on a blazer when he catches the time on his alarm clock. He's almost late for the pre-dinner pub trip. He's been excused from his lessons for the day, having to draw up research for the play that he was going to work on. He's also got the name of his partner for the design part of his masters, which means he's been giddy all day. He looks at the little sheet of paper that outlines his play, the tech and drama students he would be working with and his design partner. Ryan had been expecting to get Jon, being that they know each other and both decided to ask in advance if they could work together on the project.
Brendon and Jon are already sat at a table, with a beer for him when Ryan arrives. He smiles and flings himself into the waiting chair.
"So, guess who my partner for the design project is?" Jon grins and flicks a beer mat at him. "Oi, I could get someone else, you know…" Brendon laughs at the two of them and slaps Ryan on the back. They don't talk about it past that, settling for something else entirely; the release of the new action movie from the States. They have plenty of time to talk about it later.
Later turns out to be a long walk down the road from the pub to the little Chinese restaurant that Brendon had shown Ryan a few months ago. Brendon had begged off, wanting to get home to finish this essay that Ryan had given in almost a week earlier. Jon looks up from his menu after the waitress walks away and kicks Ryan under the table.
"Do you know what group we're meant to be working with?" Ryan scowls at Jon from over his menu. He's trying to read and talking will not help that process. "Ok, ok. Just tell me when you are ready to talk to me." Jon puts his menu back over his face and begins to hum obnoxiously.
"Fine, fine" Ryan says after no more than half a minute, slamming the leather bound booklet down on the table and leaning towards Jon with his chin resting on his hands. "What did you ask me?" Jon laughs quite abruptly at Ryan sudden outburst and scoots himself back in his chair to regard him from a distance.
"You're hot when you're angry." That only makes Ryan scowl again and Jon laughs a little more. "Also, what play are we going to be working on?"
"Oh, this thing called… Crave, I think. It's by Sarah something. I forget." Ryan watches as the other man shakes his head. "What? It's not like you actually know at all. At least I have a vague idea."
"I thought that you were meant to be the one that knew about drama. I just make it look pretty." It's at times like this when Ryan really forgets that there was a time when he didn't know Jon. He reminds him somewhat of Spencer and Ryan doesn't know whether that's a good thing. "Does it sound like a good play?" Ryan shrugs and looks back down to his menu.
"Dunno. I've only seen an extract of it once a million years ago. Back in Nevada long ago." When Jon looks at Ryan with a furrowed brow and makes a noise of confusion, it takes him a moment to remember why. "I moved out of Nevada when I was eighteen. So, a long time ago. Sorry, I forget that you guys don't know my life story." Jon grins at him and leans forward in his chair so that there are only a few inches between the two men.
"So, tell me it." Ryan shakes his head and moves back, but Jon stays still. "No, I want to know, Ryan. We can't be friends if we've got secrets, right? I'll show you mine if you show me yours." It's not that he looks honest, or even that he sounds honest, but Ryan trusts Jon. He trusts him enough to tell him the simpler version that everyone in New York knows. That's enough trust for now.
They sit eating and talking for near on two hours before Ryan declines dessert, claiming that he's tired and that he wants his bed. He pointedly ignores the look that Jon gives him at that comment and walks home on his own. Later, as he's curled up in his bed, looking at the light from the window make shapes on his curtains, he can still see the face Jon made when he'd talked about Spence and what had happened between them. He closes his eyes and settles down to sleep and he sees the more familiar image of Spencer looking in on him.
Ryan doesn't want to know why Spencer's eyes are brown.
**
The first time they meet the director and cast of Crave, it doesn't end well. Jon, who is only a first year Production student, can't make all of the staging they are asking for without a team of builders, and they all look at Ryan with disdain because he's as old as they are but doesn't understand half of the things that they are asking for.
"What are rostra again and why do they need seven?" Ryan looks up from the notes that Jon was making throughout the meeting and pushes them across the table so that Jon can see what he's referring to.
"They're podiums. Just bits of stage-build for people to stand and sit on. God only knows why they need seven, it's a four person cast." Ryan laughs and sits back in his chair, curling his legs into his body. Jon smiles up at him, pushes the plans to the side of the table, and picks up the two mugs that they've been drinking out of since they'd got back to Ryan's from the meeting. They clank together as he stands and Ryan leans his head back to follow Jon's path.
"What do you want for dinner, Ryan? No take-out, I insist." Ryan shakes his head and closes his eyes. He lets himself sink into the material of the chair and he feels comfortable. "Ry? Come on, food," Jon shouts from the kitchen and waits a few seconds before walking back to Ryan's chair. He crouches down in front of the chair and hits Ryan lightly on the knee. Ryan opens his eyes enough to see him and closes them again, smiling to himself.
"I don't care, Jon. Make me something English. I just want food." Jon sighs and slaps Ryan's ankle, standing as he does so. Forty minutes later, Jon shakes Ryan awake and bundles him into a chair at the counter. In front of him is a plate with of mashed potatoes and sausages. Ryan looks to Jon, smiles and picks up the gravy from in between his and Jon's plates.
Together, they sit and eat in companionable silence, or as much silence as two young men can possibly have whilst eating. When Ryan finishes his plate, he looks across to Jon, smiling through his lethargic daze. Jon laughs under his breath and takes the plates into the kitchen.
"You need a hand?" Ryan shouts through to the kitchen and gets a short dismissal in reply. He sighs and goes to sit in front of the TV instead. Five minutes later, Jon comes out with two chilled beers in his hand and falls down onto the small section of the sofa that wasn't being occupied by Ryan's feet. He extends an arm to give Ryan one of the bottles and they sit in silence until Ryan realises that it's too late for him to be there and that he should be leaving.
Jon tries to shout after him, to say goodbye, but it comes out as barely a whisper. Ryan raises his hand as he slips out the door, and that's it, all that either of them need to say.
**
Ryan can't say that he's surprised when Jon reaches into his bag and pulls out the bottle. In fact, he was almost expecting it. It's been a long night, and they both knew that they were going to be working into the night on this stupid prop list. Ryan never realised the amount of work that needed to be put into props, especially the things that he calls for in his scripts. He's going to get right on to revising those lists.
And then Jon's necking the bottle. A little drip rolls down his chin and neck and all that Ryan wants to do is lick it off. He shakes his head; he knows that Spencer is waiting back in New York for him and Ryan never wants to hurt him. He takes a swig for himself, hoping to clear his head. He should have known that it would just make things worse.
Nothing happens. They sit and giggle about anything that they can think to talk about. Nothing happens. They don't tip their heads together and Jon doesn't push his fingers in Ryan's hair, to steady himself. Ryan doesn't look through his eyelashes at Jon's lips or lean his head back to breathe against them. He doesn't press his hand to Jon's chest or push forward into the warm heart of his body.
Then they aren't kissing. Ryan doesn't think of Spencer's hands on his hips and he certainly doesn't think about how Jon would feel pushing into him. Except they are, and he does.
Ryan pushes Jon back into his chair and climbs forwards so his legs are wrapped around him. Jon pulls their bodies together, being careful so that Ryan won't fall.
"Everyone's gone," Jon whispers against Ryan's lips. He's about to whisper back that yes, he knows, and why are they talking, when he realises what Jon's saying. He hesitates for a moment, for a reason that he can't place. And then Jon's standing up, with Ryan's legs still wrapped around him, and pushing him against the nearest wall.
Somehow, suddenly, Ryan's jeans and boxers are half-pulled down and he's whimpering and pushing back onto Jon's fingers. He doesn't think about how it's been too long since he's felt Spencer inside of him. At least not for any longer than the time it takes for Jon to get him prepared.
When Jon slides into Ryan, all he can think about is how different he feels. How Jon fills him up in a completely different way and how good that feels. Jon pants in his ear, something about the line of his back, and Ryan lets him touch and kiss whatever he wants. It feels good, it feels great, and this is what Ryan wants for right now.
Then he's coming and so is Jon and it's over. Jon pulls out, hands still on Ryan's back, and he kisses his neck. Their bodies are pressed together and Ryan sighs beneath Jon.
As Jon moves away, Ryan pulls himself close to the cold wall and breathes heavily. He reaches down without really looking and pulls his jeans up, tightening them close around his waist. Jon walks back towards him and tips his head up for a kiss. Ryan leans into his solid body and lets it happen. When Jon licks into his mouth Ryan feels more content: this is how it's meant to feel. They stand there for a little while before Jon pulls back, and walks back to the table.
"Yeah, we need to… Yeah." Ryan tries to smile at him and fails miserably, but sits down at the table anyway. Jon smiles at him and pulls him back up again. He collects all the paperwork from the table, shoves it into his backpack, and takes Ryan's hand. Ryan looks back for just a moment before Jon flicks off the switch. It's really late for them to be waking Brendon up by going back to the dorm, and Ryan's apartment is only around the corner, and they have to work together tomorrow if Jon doesn't have a class. Ryan stops, shaking his head for a moment; he can tell when he's trying to rationalise something to himself and this is one of those times.
Ryan sleeps on the sofa, ignoring the looks Jon gives him as he pushes him towards the bed, and he wakes up in the morning with a hangover and a crick in his neck. There's a cup of coffee on the table in front of him and a note from Jon. It says: 'Gone to class. J.' There's no flooding admittance of undying love, or even x's at the end. It doesn't sound like Jon, who normally would have made fun of Ryan's profession and have written long rambling sentences about absolutely nothing. Ryan sighs and crumples up the note, grabs the coffee and goes to the bathroom.
An hour later, Ryan emerges, goes to the bedroom, and flicks open his phone. There's a message from Brendon about meeting for lunch, but that's it. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't there. He calls Brendon and tells him to meet him at the little café down the road in fifteen minutes.
It takes Ryan almost twenty minutes to get dressed, slow and unsure of himself. He ends up pulling on a pair of sweats and an old hoodie that had appeared in his suitcase before he left New York. He sniffs the neck and realises why he never wore it. It's Spencer's. He sighs and checks the clock. He doesn't have time to change and really, he doesn't want to take it off. As he walks, he puts the cuffs to his nose and drowns himself in Spencer's smell.
Brendon's already waiting at the café with a low-fat latte waiting for him. Ryan sits down carefully on the chair across from him and picks up the latte. Brendon raises his eyebrows questioningly and Ryan silently shakes his head. There's a tear running down his face, and he pushes it away as quickly as he can. He can't look up at Brendon's face, because all he sees is Jon staring back.
"What happened, Ryan?" He shrugs his shoulders and looks up at Brendon. It's not hard to face him, but Ryan knows that if he starts talking about what happened, he might end up saying something he doesn't want to.
"Me and Jon had sex. Last night." Brendon's expression doesn't change and Ryan silently thanks him for that. He doesn't think that he could have dealt with the shame of a reaction.
"How do you feel about it now?" Brendon asks, after a moment of silence. Ryan shrugs again and looks down at his chewed fingernails. He tries to tap them on the table and fails, which just makes Ryan feel even worse.
"I love Spencer. That's all I keep thinking. I love Spencer, I know I do. It wasn't a conscious decision, we were there and there was whiskey. I don't know what to do." Ryan looks up at Brendon, who isn't looking back at him. When he finally does look up, he looks just as lost as Ryan feels.
"I don't think there's an easy fix to this, Ryan."
**
Brendon isn't speaking to Ryan. Ryan knows that he should probably be more worried about Spencer and how it seems strange and unfamiliar whenever he talks to him on the phone, but he isn't. Because he sees Brendon every day and Ryan hasn't gotten any more out of him than a cold 'no' to the offer of a drink. He'd left Ryan standing in the middle of classroom, astonished.
Now, Ryan is standing outside his dorm room, with a box of Disney movies that he's managed to borrow from his classmates. He knows that Jon is out, because there's a musical being put on and he's the main sound technician, and that Brendon is in, because he followed him from the class. He's knocked once and is waiting for Brendon to open the door.
When he does, he looks at Ryan and the box and leans against the door frame. "Yeah?" He's not glaring as such, but there's definitely a frown on his face. Ryan shifts the box a little in his hands. He hasn't really got this far in his plan, and it's not really any kind of plan. It's just an idea.
"Um, I don't know what I did. But I brought you movies." He stops for a second and looks at Brendon again. "Um...I brought you Disney." Brendon looks into the box and ushers Ryan inside. Ryan stands awkwardly in the middle of the room and waits for Brendon to close the door.
"I don't think you can change what you did." Ryan puts the box on the bed, because he doesn't really want to be holding it for whatever is going to happen. "I mean, my roommate and my best friend slept together, which ruins their relationship, thus ruining mine with them. I can't talk about either of you to the other one. I can't mention drama around Jon or practically anything around you. I don't want to be the friend that tries to make everything work even when it won't."
"I just want to be your friend. I know Jon comes with that friendship. I'm really sorry. It happened and now I can't do anything about it. You're my best friend, Brendon. I don't want this to be it." Ryan sighs and slumps against the windowsill. "It wasn't just me, you know." Brendon shrugs.
"I can't do anything about my roommate. He's kind of here all the time." Brendon sits on his bed and pulls the box onto his lap. "Mmm, The Fox and The Hound. This one first." He holds the movie out to Ryan, who is nearest to the computer.
"You're angry at me." Ryan can't think of anything to say except for what he thought was obvious. "I thought that there'd be more to it."
"You apologised. You're still being my friend. You brought me Disney. I've forgiven you." Ryan laughs a little, and moves to put the DVD in.
**
The next time Jon and Ryan see each other in person, they are attending a rehearsal of the play. Jon's late, which doesn't surprise Ryan at all and does absolutely nothing to calm his nerves. His knee is vibrating and he can see it out of the corner of his eye however he sits. What's being performed isn't exactly helpful either, the sexual tension hangs in the air after each scene.
Ryan looks up from writing notes on his clipboard to see Jon shutting the door to the theatre as quietly as he can. He sees Jon looking right back at him and suddenly, his illegible notes are the most interesting thing in that room. When he gets up the nerve to look up again, Jon's right there in front of him. Jon smiles gently and sits down in the seat next to him, getting all his notes out so that he can amend them.
They both shuffle their notes, Ryan giving his to Jon so that he can copy out the little that he has written from the prompts that the director gave him at the beginning of the rehearsal. They sit in silence as the group performs, scripts in hand and half dressed. Ryan, in his pinstriped suit and scarves, feels a little out of place, especially because Jon is wearing a ratty t-shirt, tracksuit bottoms and flips flops. He fits in rather well with the rest of the group.
When they are finished, the director turns in his chair and looks at the two men, who, by this time, have abandoned their pens in favour of slouching in the uncomfortable theatre seats. "So, can you work the set that we talked about around this?" Jon sits forward, ready to explain that they don't need everything they've asked for and that between them, Ryan and Jon just don't have the time to make everything.
Ryan sits back and lets the two of them talk about it, watching the director getting slowly more agitated and Jon's expression not changing at all. The actors look as bored as he feels, slumped down against the stage build that Jon is trying to convince the director to use as the final staging. "If you let us use the stage build and cover it in black sheeting instead of making an entirely new staging set, we can finish making the props, make the backdrop and do all the sound and lighting you've asked for. All in all, you'll end up with a better overall production because of it." The director begins to protest, but Ryan cuts him off.
"Would you rather one of your actors' breaks their ankle by falling through shoddily made staging or the reviewers talking about how the props added to the performance? We can do one or the other but not both." Ryan doesn't look to Jon when he's finished, but he can feel his eyes on him. The director turns in his chair for a moment, then goes down to the stage to look around. After a minute or so, he calls them down to talk about the stage build and the slight changes he wants made to it.
By the time they leave the theatre, the actors and techies have long gone. The director waves them off and as soon as they are clear of the doors, Ryan starts laughing. He doesn't know what else to do. Jon grins at him and they walk together out of the building.
"Want to go get a drink?" Jon says when Ryan has calmed down. Ryan looks at him and tries to think of what to say that isn't 'yes, god yes'. "Look, I know that what happened isn't going to again. I know that you love Spencer and that's fine. It's just been a long day and I personally need a drink to stop myself from going back in there and strangling that guy." Ryan smiles gently and nods at him. They can be friends again, it doesn't have to end like this. Ryan doesn't have to tell Spencer and they can go back to how it was before. They don't need to make big declarations of love, or talk about it. They can just do something together. Just one drink.
**
It's getting close to Christmas when Ryan realises that, in fact, he's not done any Christmas shopping. He has to get presents for the usual people and then there are the people in England. He thinks that the only person he absolutely has to get a present for is Brendon, but then there's Jon and the friends he made in class.
It's only when Singer, one of the girls in first year drama, comes up to him after class and invites him out for a Christmas that he realises that no-one else has enough money to buy everyone presents either. So he goes, only to find Brendon and most of their drama class taking up almost half the small pub. He sits down in the nearest empty chair to Brendon and greets everyone around the table. Brendon had his arm slung round a girl who seems to be enjoying his attention too much for Ryan's own comfort. He makes small talk with Singer's boyfriend, because Ryan's not about to join in Brendon's endless chatter in front of people he barely knows. Singer's boyfriend turns out to be a musician and Ryan's thinks that Gabe would like to meet this boy, Cash.
"So, I have the dollar sign for my name, Cash Money." As he says this, Cash makes an obscene and highly complicated hand gesture and Ryan just nods along. "Where you from then? Because Singer said New York, but I doubt that from your accent." Ryan smiles a little; he's with a fellow countryman, which is actually quite comforting.
"Nevada. This little place just out of Vegas. Suburbia." Cash laughs a little, possibly too much for Ryan's little joke. He points to himself as he laughs and tries to explain without talking. Ryan doesn't understand.
"Me too. Me too." He tilts his head towards Singer and smiles a little. It reaches his eyes. "I'm only on this god forsaken island for the missus. I said I'd follow her to the ends of the earth. And lucky for me, that's exactly where she chose to go." Ryan frowns a little and looks at Singer a little closer.
"She's got an English accent. She's American?" Cash just shrugs and says something about the great little actress she is. Ryan laughs, feeling comfortable with someone else who isn't an actor whilst they are surrounded by them.
Two hours later, Ryan's a little more drunk than he'd like to be and Brendon's disappeared with that girl. He'd lost Cash almost an hour ago, but suddenly he's there again, right next to Ryan. "You light-weight. Let's get you home." Cash bundles Ryan into a car and makes him shuffle over so that Cash can get in too. When Ryan looks up, he sees Singer in the driver's seat and Brendon right next to her. Apparently the girl had been really easy.
"Actually, really frigid. And engaged," Brendon says, laughing. Ryan clamps a hand over his mouth and really hopes to god that he hasn't said anything else out loud. He'd been thinking about Spencer all night. No-one replies and Ryan breathes a sigh of relief.
"Spencer's one lucky guy. One very flexible lucky guy," Cash says it in a conversational tone, but he's looking at Ryan with slanted eyes. Singer and Brendon both start laughing and Ryan sits there, horrified. When Brendon gets him out of the car and into his tower block, he takes Ryan's phone.
"Drunk dialing is only good when you've got someone who already knows everything about you." Ryan agrees, and that's why his phone call to Spencer for the week is a little less serious than normal.
Chapter Three
Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four & Five - Chapter Six, Seven & Eight
Bonus Content
Chapter 2: I Get Off, and You Know Why
Ryan's trying to pull on a blazer when he catches the time on his alarm clock. He's almost late for the pre-dinner pub trip. He's been excused from his lessons for the day, having to draw up research for the play that he was going to work on. He's also got the name of his partner for the design part of his masters, which means he's been giddy all day. He looks at the little sheet of paper that outlines his play, the tech and drama students he would be working with and his design partner. Ryan had been expecting to get Jon, being that they know each other and both decided to ask in advance if they could work together on the project.
Brendon and Jon are already sat at a table, with a beer for him when Ryan arrives. He smiles and flings himself into the waiting chair.
"So, guess who my partner for the design project is?" Jon grins and flicks a beer mat at him. "Oi, I could get someone else, you know…" Brendon laughs at the two of them and slaps Ryan on the back. They don't talk about it past that, settling for something else entirely; the release of the new action movie from the States. They have plenty of time to talk about it later.
Later turns out to be a long walk down the road from the pub to the little Chinese restaurant that Brendon had shown Ryan a few months ago. Brendon had begged off, wanting to get home to finish this essay that Ryan had given in almost a week earlier. Jon looks up from his menu after the waitress walks away and kicks Ryan under the table.
"Do you know what group we're meant to be working with?" Ryan scowls at Jon from over his menu. He's trying to read and talking will not help that process. "Ok, ok. Just tell me when you are ready to talk to me." Jon puts his menu back over his face and begins to hum obnoxiously.
"Fine, fine" Ryan says after no more than half a minute, slamming the leather bound booklet down on the table and leaning towards Jon with his chin resting on his hands. "What did you ask me?" Jon laughs quite abruptly at Ryan sudden outburst and scoots himself back in his chair to regard him from a distance.
"You're hot when you're angry." That only makes Ryan scowl again and Jon laughs a little more. "Also, what play are we going to be working on?"
"Oh, this thing called… Crave, I think. It's by Sarah something. I forget." Ryan watches as the other man shakes his head. "What? It's not like you actually know at all. At least I have a vague idea."
"I thought that you were meant to be the one that knew about drama. I just make it look pretty." It's at times like this when Ryan really forgets that there was a time when he didn't know Jon. He reminds him somewhat of Spencer and Ryan doesn't know whether that's a good thing. "Does it sound like a good play?" Ryan shrugs and looks back down to his menu.
"Dunno. I've only seen an extract of it once a million years ago. Back in Nevada long ago." When Jon looks at Ryan with a furrowed brow and makes a noise of confusion, it takes him a moment to remember why. "I moved out of Nevada when I was eighteen. So, a long time ago. Sorry, I forget that you guys don't know my life story." Jon grins at him and leans forward in his chair so that there are only a few inches between the two men.
"So, tell me it." Ryan shakes his head and moves back, but Jon stays still. "No, I want to know, Ryan. We can't be friends if we've got secrets, right? I'll show you mine if you show me yours." It's not that he looks honest, or even that he sounds honest, but Ryan trusts Jon. He trusts him enough to tell him the simpler version that everyone in New York knows. That's enough trust for now.
They sit eating and talking for near on two hours before Ryan declines dessert, claiming that he's tired and that he wants his bed. He pointedly ignores the look that Jon gives him at that comment and walks home on his own. Later, as he's curled up in his bed, looking at the light from the window make shapes on his curtains, he can still see the face Jon made when he'd talked about Spence and what had happened between them. He closes his eyes and settles down to sleep and he sees the more familiar image of Spencer looking in on him.
Ryan doesn't want to know why Spencer's eyes are brown.
**
The first time they meet the director and cast of Crave, it doesn't end well. Jon, who is only a first year Production student, can't make all of the staging they are asking for without a team of builders, and they all look at Ryan with disdain because he's as old as they are but doesn't understand half of the things that they are asking for.
"What are rostra again and why do they need seven?" Ryan looks up from the notes that Jon was making throughout the meeting and pushes them across the table so that Jon can see what he's referring to.
"They're podiums. Just bits of stage-build for people to stand and sit on. God only knows why they need seven, it's a four person cast." Ryan laughs and sits back in his chair, curling his legs into his body. Jon smiles up at him, pushes the plans to the side of the table, and picks up the two mugs that they've been drinking out of since they'd got back to Ryan's from the meeting. They clank together as he stands and Ryan leans his head back to follow Jon's path.
"What do you want for dinner, Ryan? No take-out, I insist." Ryan shakes his head and closes his eyes. He lets himself sink into the material of the chair and he feels comfortable. "Ry? Come on, food," Jon shouts from the kitchen and waits a few seconds before walking back to Ryan's chair. He crouches down in front of the chair and hits Ryan lightly on the knee. Ryan opens his eyes enough to see him and closes them again, smiling to himself.
"I don't care, Jon. Make me something English. I just want food." Jon sighs and slaps Ryan's ankle, standing as he does so. Forty minutes later, Jon shakes Ryan awake and bundles him into a chair at the counter. In front of him is a plate with of mashed potatoes and sausages. Ryan looks to Jon, smiles and picks up the gravy from in between his and Jon's plates.
Together, they sit and eat in companionable silence, or as much silence as two young men can possibly have whilst eating. When Ryan finishes his plate, he looks across to Jon, smiling through his lethargic daze. Jon laughs under his breath and takes the plates into the kitchen.
"You need a hand?" Ryan shouts through to the kitchen and gets a short dismissal in reply. He sighs and goes to sit in front of the TV instead. Five minutes later, Jon comes out with two chilled beers in his hand and falls down onto the small section of the sofa that wasn't being occupied by Ryan's feet. He extends an arm to give Ryan one of the bottles and they sit in silence until Ryan realises that it's too late for him to be there and that he should be leaving.
Jon tries to shout after him, to say goodbye, but it comes out as barely a whisper. Ryan raises his hand as he slips out the door, and that's it, all that either of them need to say.
**
Ryan can't say that he's surprised when Jon reaches into his bag and pulls out the bottle. In fact, he was almost expecting it. It's been a long night, and they both knew that they were going to be working into the night on this stupid prop list. Ryan never realised the amount of work that needed to be put into props, especially the things that he calls for in his scripts. He's going to get right on to revising those lists.
And then Jon's necking the bottle. A little drip rolls down his chin and neck and all that Ryan wants to do is lick it off. He shakes his head; he knows that Spencer is waiting back in New York for him and Ryan never wants to hurt him. He takes a swig for himself, hoping to clear his head. He should have known that it would just make things worse.
Nothing happens. They sit and giggle about anything that they can think to talk about. Nothing happens. They don't tip their heads together and Jon doesn't push his fingers in Ryan's hair, to steady himself. Ryan doesn't look through his eyelashes at Jon's lips or lean his head back to breathe against them. He doesn't press his hand to Jon's chest or push forward into the warm heart of his body.
Then they aren't kissing. Ryan doesn't think of Spencer's hands on his hips and he certainly doesn't think about how Jon would feel pushing into him. Except they are, and he does.
Ryan pushes Jon back into his chair and climbs forwards so his legs are wrapped around him. Jon pulls their bodies together, being careful so that Ryan won't fall.
"Everyone's gone," Jon whispers against Ryan's lips. He's about to whisper back that yes, he knows, and why are they talking, when he realises what Jon's saying. He hesitates for a moment, for a reason that he can't place. And then Jon's standing up, with Ryan's legs still wrapped around him, and pushing him against the nearest wall.
Somehow, suddenly, Ryan's jeans and boxers are half-pulled down and he's whimpering and pushing back onto Jon's fingers. He doesn't think about how it's been too long since he's felt Spencer inside of him. At least not for any longer than the time it takes for Jon to get him prepared.
When Jon slides into Ryan, all he can think about is how different he feels. How Jon fills him up in a completely different way and how good that feels. Jon pants in his ear, something about the line of his back, and Ryan lets him touch and kiss whatever he wants. It feels good, it feels great, and this is what Ryan wants for right now.
Then he's coming and so is Jon and it's over. Jon pulls out, hands still on Ryan's back, and he kisses his neck. Their bodies are pressed together and Ryan sighs beneath Jon.
As Jon moves away, Ryan pulls himself close to the cold wall and breathes heavily. He reaches down without really looking and pulls his jeans up, tightening them close around his waist. Jon walks back towards him and tips his head up for a kiss. Ryan leans into his solid body and lets it happen. When Jon licks into his mouth Ryan feels more content: this is how it's meant to feel. They stand there for a little while before Jon pulls back, and walks back to the table.
"Yeah, we need to… Yeah." Ryan tries to smile at him and fails miserably, but sits down at the table anyway. Jon smiles at him and pulls him back up again. He collects all the paperwork from the table, shoves it into his backpack, and takes Ryan's hand. Ryan looks back for just a moment before Jon flicks off the switch. It's really late for them to be waking Brendon up by going back to the dorm, and Ryan's apartment is only around the corner, and they have to work together tomorrow if Jon doesn't have a class. Ryan stops, shaking his head for a moment; he can tell when he's trying to rationalise something to himself and this is one of those times.
Ryan sleeps on the sofa, ignoring the looks Jon gives him as he pushes him towards the bed, and he wakes up in the morning with a hangover and a crick in his neck. There's a cup of coffee on the table in front of him and a note from Jon. It says: 'Gone to class. J.' There's no flooding admittance of undying love, or even x's at the end. It doesn't sound like Jon, who normally would have made fun of Ryan's profession and have written long rambling sentences about absolutely nothing. Ryan sighs and crumples up the note, grabs the coffee and goes to the bathroom.
An hour later, Ryan emerges, goes to the bedroom, and flicks open his phone. There's a message from Brendon about meeting for lunch, but that's it. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't there. He calls Brendon and tells him to meet him at the little café down the road in fifteen minutes.
It takes Ryan almost twenty minutes to get dressed, slow and unsure of himself. He ends up pulling on a pair of sweats and an old hoodie that had appeared in his suitcase before he left New York. He sniffs the neck and realises why he never wore it. It's Spencer's. He sighs and checks the clock. He doesn't have time to change and really, he doesn't want to take it off. As he walks, he puts the cuffs to his nose and drowns himself in Spencer's smell.
Brendon's already waiting at the café with a low-fat latte waiting for him. Ryan sits down carefully on the chair across from him and picks up the latte. Brendon raises his eyebrows questioningly and Ryan silently shakes his head. There's a tear running down his face, and he pushes it away as quickly as he can. He can't look up at Brendon's face, because all he sees is Jon staring back.
"What happened, Ryan?" He shrugs his shoulders and looks up at Brendon. It's not hard to face him, but Ryan knows that if he starts talking about what happened, he might end up saying something he doesn't want to.
"Me and Jon had sex. Last night." Brendon's expression doesn't change and Ryan silently thanks him for that. He doesn't think that he could have dealt with the shame of a reaction.
"How do you feel about it now?" Brendon asks, after a moment of silence. Ryan shrugs again and looks down at his chewed fingernails. He tries to tap them on the table and fails, which just makes Ryan feel even worse.
"I love Spencer. That's all I keep thinking. I love Spencer, I know I do. It wasn't a conscious decision, we were there and there was whiskey. I don't know what to do." Ryan looks up at Brendon, who isn't looking back at him. When he finally does look up, he looks just as lost as Ryan feels.
"I don't think there's an easy fix to this, Ryan."
**
Brendon isn't speaking to Ryan. Ryan knows that he should probably be more worried about Spencer and how it seems strange and unfamiliar whenever he talks to him on the phone, but he isn't. Because he sees Brendon every day and Ryan hasn't gotten any more out of him than a cold 'no' to the offer of a drink. He'd left Ryan standing in the middle of classroom, astonished.
Now, Ryan is standing outside his dorm room, with a box of Disney movies that he's managed to borrow from his classmates. He knows that Jon is out, because there's a musical being put on and he's the main sound technician, and that Brendon is in, because he followed him from the class. He's knocked once and is waiting for Brendon to open the door.
When he does, he looks at Ryan and the box and leans against the door frame. "Yeah?" He's not glaring as such, but there's definitely a frown on his face. Ryan shifts the box a little in his hands. He hasn't really got this far in his plan, and it's not really any kind of plan. It's just an idea.
"Um, I don't know what I did. But I brought you movies." He stops for a second and looks at Brendon again. "Um...I brought you Disney." Brendon looks into the box and ushers Ryan inside. Ryan stands awkwardly in the middle of the room and waits for Brendon to close the door.
"I don't think you can change what you did." Ryan puts the box on the bed, because he doesn't really want to be holding it for whatever is going to happen. "I mean, my roommate and my best friend slept together, which ruins their relationship, thus ruining mine with them. I can't talk about either of you to the other one. I can't mention drama around Jon or practically anything around you. I don't want to be the friend that tries to make everything work even when it won't."
"I just want to be your friend. I know Jon comes with that friendship. I'm really sorry. It happened and now I can't do anything about it. You're my best friend, Brendon. I don't want this to be it." Ryan sighs and slumps against the windowsill. "It wasn't just me, you know." Brendon shrugs.
"I can't do anything about my roommate. He's kind of here all the time." Brendon sits on his bed and pulls the box onto his lap. "Mmm, The Fox and The Hound. This one first." He holds the movie out to Ryan, who is nearest to the computer.
"You're angry at me." Ryan can't think of anything to say except for what he thought was obvious. "I thought that there'd be more to it."
"You apologised. You're still being my friend. You brought me Disney. I've forgiven you." Ryan laughs a little, and moves to put the DVD in.
**
The next time Jon and Ryan see each other in person, they are attending a rehearsal of the play. Jon's late, which doesn't surprise Ryan at all and does absolutely nothing to calm his nerves. His knee is vibrating and he can see it out of the corner of his eye however he sits. What's being performed isn't exactly helpful either, the sexual tension hangs in the air after each scene.
Ryan looks up from writing notes on his clipboard to see Jon shutting the door to the theatre as quietly as he can. He sees Jon looking right back at him and suddenly, his illegible notes are the most interesting thing in that room. When he gets up the nerve to look up again, Jon's right there in front of him. Jon smiles gently and sits down in the seat next to him, getting all his notes out so that he can amend them.
They both shuffle their notes, Ryan giving his to Jon so that he can copy out the little that he has written from the prompts that the director gave him at the beginning of the rehearsal. They sit in silence as the group performs, scripts in hand and half dressed. Ryan, in his pinstriped suit and scarves, feels a little out of place, especially because Jon is wearing a ratty t-shirt, tracksuit bottoms and flips flops. He fits in rather well with the rest of the group.
When they are finished, the director turns in his chair and looks at the two men, who, by this time, have abandoned their pens in favour of slouching in the uncomfortable theatre seats. "So, can you work the set that we talked about around this?" Jon sits forward, ready to explain that they don't need everything they've asked for and that between them, Ryan and Jon just don't have the time to make everything.
Ryan sits back and lets the two of them talk about it, watching the director getting slowly more agitated and Jon's expression not changing at all. The actors look as bored as he feels, slumped down against the stage build that Jon is trying to convince the director to use as the final staging. "If you let us use the stage build and cover it in black sheeting instead of making an entirely new staging set, we can finish making the props, make the backdrop and do all the sound and lighting you've asked for. All in all, you'll end up with a better overall production because of it." The director begins to protest, but Ryan cuts him off.
"Would you rather one of your actors' breaks their ankle by falling through shoddily made staging or the reviewers talking about how the props added to the performance? We can do one or the other but not both." Ryan doesn't look to Jon when he's finished, but he can feel his eyes on him. The director turns in his chair for a moment, then goes down to the stage to look around. After a minute or so, he calls them down to talk about the stage build and the slight changes he wants made to it.
By the time they leave the theatre, the actors and techies have long gone. The director waves them off and as soon as they are clear of the doors, Ryan starts laughing. He doesn't know what else to do. Jon grins at him and they walk together out of the building.
"Want to go get a drink?" Jon says when Ryan has calmed down. Ryan looks at him and tries to think of what to say that isn't 'yes, god yes'. "Look, I know that what happened isn't going to again. I know that you love Spencer and that's fine. It's just been a long day and I personally need a drink to stop myself from going back in there and strangling that guy." Ryan smiles gently and nods at him. They can be friends again, it doesn't have to end like this. Ryan doesn't have to tell Spencer and they can go back to how it was before. They don't need to make big declarations of love, or talk about it. They can just do something together. Just one drink.
**
It's getting close to Christmas when Ryan realises that, in fact, he's not done any Christmas shopping. He has to get presents for the usual people and then there are the people in England. He thinks that the only person he absolutely has to get a present for is Brendon, but then there's Jon and the friends he made in class.
It's only when Singer, one of the girls in first year drama, comes up to him after class and invites him out for a Christmas that he realises that no-one else has enough money to buy everyone presents either. So he goes, only to find Brendon and most of their drama class taking up almost half the small pub. He sits down in the nearest empty chair to Brendon and greets everyone around the table. Brendon had his arm slung round a girl who seems to be enjoying his attention too much for Ryan's own comfort. He makes small talk with Singer's boyfriend, because Ryan's not about to join in Brendon's endless chatter in front of people he barely knows. Singer's boyfriend turns out to be a musician and Ryan's thinks that Gabe would like to meet this boy, Cash.
"So, I have the dollar sign for my name, Cash Money." As he says this, Cash makes an obscene and highly complicated hand gesture and Ryan just nods along. "Where you from then? Because Singer said New York, but I doubt that from your accent." Ryan smiles a little; he's with a fellow countryman, which is actually quite comforting.
"Nevada. This little place just out of Vegas. Suburbia." Cash laughs a little, possibly too much for Ryan's little joke. He points to himself as he laughs and tries to explain without talking. Ryan doesn't understand.
"Me too. Me too." He tilts his head towards Singer and smiles a little. It reaches his eyes. "I'm only on this god forsaken island for the missus. I said I'd follow her to the ends of the earth. And lucky for me, that's exactly where she chose to go." Ryan frowns a little and looks at Singer a little closer.
"She's got an English accent. She's American?" Cash just shrugs and says something about the great little actress she is. Ryan laughs, feeling comfortable with someone else who isn't an actor whilst they are surrounded by them.
Two hours later, Ryan's a little more drunk than he'd like to be and Brendon's disappeared with that girl. He'd lost Cash almost an hour ago, but suddenly he's there again, right next to Ryan. "You light-weight. Let's get you home." Cash bundles Ryan into a car and makes him shuffle over so that Cash can get in too. When Ryan looks up, he sees Singer in the driver's seat and Brendon right next to her. Apparently the girl had been really easy.
"Actually, really frigid. And engaged," Brendon says, laughing. Ryan clamps a hand over his mouth and really hopes to god that he hasn't said anything else out loud. He'd been thinking about Spencer all night. No-one replies and Ryan breathes a sigh of relief.
"Spencer's one lucky guy. One very flexible lucky guy," Cash says it in a conversational tone, but he's looking at Ryan with slanted eyes. Singer and Brendon both start laughing and Ryan sits there, horrified. When Brendon gets him out of the car and into his tower block, he takes Ryan's phone.
"Drunk dialing is only good when you've got someone who already knows everything about you." Ryan agrees, and that's why his phone call to Spencer for the week is a little less serious than normal.
Chapter Three