Fic: Enchanted
Title: Enchanted
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon (Spencer/OFC)
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 811
Disclaimer: I made this up. It's very fake.
A/N: I wrote this instead of studying for my exam on Friday. Fluff is so much better than cognitive psychology. Unbetad, and written in like 40 min. So don't expect a work of wonders. But if I don't post it now, I'll find reasons not to. Title and inspiration from Taylor Swift's song Enchanted.
Ryan grabs a coke out of the fridge, and closes the door with more force than necessary. The bang drowns in the noise from the music, and the conversations people around him are having. Next time Spencer tries to drag him to one of these parties, Ryan is going to stand his ground and refuse. He's tired of having to talk to people who he has nothing in common with. Faking smiles, and pretending to find their jokes funny. He'd rather spent tonight at home, curled up on the couch with Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms, and preparing for his American Lit class. Spencer is off somewhere with his friends from the football team, or possibly in a dark corner with Sam. There's more people in the kitchen than what should be possible. It's also getting very hot, and stuffy. Ryan makes his way towards the living room, in hopes of eventually reaching the back porch.
The night air is crisp, and Ryan takes a deep breath. He can hear the sounds of people hanging out somewhere in the backyard, but it's too dark to see who it is. After checking his phone, with the faint hope that Spencer would be ready to go back home, Ryan sits down in one of the old rocking chairs that's on the porch. It squeaks a little when a rocks.
“That sound reminds me of my grandma.”
Ryan looks up, startled. He hadn't noticed that he had company. A few feet away, a skinny dark haired guy is looking over at Ryan. Ryan can't help but to notice the guys plump lips and big dark eyes. He can feel something starting to curl in his stomach. Then he realizes that the guy had actually said something.
“I hope it's just the sound, and not me that remind you of her,” Ryan says.
The guy comes closer, and sits down on cane side table next to Ryan. It creaks alarmingly but the guy doesn't seem to care, or notice.
“Well, actually,” the guy starts, and reaches out for Ryan's scarf, “the paisley pattern on this is insanely similar to one of her pillow.” The guys smiles, and Ryan is a little taken aback with how the smile really lights up the guys face. He feels a tug in his stomach again. The smile falls of the guys face, and Ryan once again is aware of the fact that he's been quiet for too long.
“Oh, okay.” Then Ryan mentally kicks himself in the head. Smooth Ross, real smooth.
“I'm Brendon,” The guys says, extending his hand.
“Ryan.” He gets another smile back, and can't help but to smile a little himself.
“So Ryan, why are you sitting out here alone? You do know there's a party going on inside, right?”
“Not really my scene,” Ryan says, looking up at Brendon. And if he's honest, looking at Brendon's lips. “I'd rather be home, but my friend insist to drag me to these things.”
Before Ryan knows it they're discussing literature, music and art. Things that Ryan actually likes. Brendon is probably the first one he's met at a party that he doesn't have to fake laughter or interest for. Brendon is talking about how he was forced to learn how to play the violin when he was 10, gesturing as he talks, and when he stops, his hand is resting on Ryan's knee. Ryan can feel the warmth seeping through his jeans, and he looks up at Brendon. Brendon smiles, and all Ryan can think is: I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing that. Eventually the noise from inside dies out, and Spencer comes out with his arm around Sam.
“Ryan! I've been looking for you,” Spencer says, and raises his eyebrows when he notices that Ryan is not alone. Ryan raises one back. “Ready to go?”
“It was nice to meet you, Brendon,” Ryan says, holding the eye contact a little longer then necessary, before he gets up. They're almost by the car when he hears someone calling his name. He turns around to find Brendon coming around the corner of the house.
“Hey,” Brendon says, a little breathless, “I forgot to get your number.”
Ryan fumbles as he takes out his phone. Brendon just smiles.
“I'll call you,” Brendon says. He turns to go back to the house but then suddenly spins back around again. “I forgot this too.”
Brendon steps up close, and places a quick, soft kiss on Ryan's lips. A quick smile, and then he's gone.
Ryan get's into the car, and Spencer snickers.
“And you said you'd never meet someone at a party like this,” Spencer says.
“Shut up, and drive,” Ryan says, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.