Nerds In Love, part 3
A day or two later, Brendon asked Ryan if he’d like to come and hang out at his apartment. Of course, he happily agreed, anxious to finally see Brendon’s place.
Part of Ryan felt a little awkward about it considering that they had been dating for a while and he had never seen where Brendon lived. It was this big part of Brendon’s life that he had no idea about, and he was afraid to get there and find something like a bondage chamber or a freakishly large Powerpuff Girls collection. He could never rule much out when it came to Brendon.
Brendon gave the address and told Ryan he’d meet him outside so he wouldn’t have to bother with buzzing him in. Twenty minutes later, Ryan pulled into the parking lot of a decent apartment complex and saw Brendon sitting on the curb of the sidewalk. He jumped to his feet when he noticed Ryan’s car coming his way, and a hand flew up and waved a little too enthusiastically. Ryan chuckled to himself.
The elevator ride to his floor was short, and the walk down the hall was even shorter before Ryan was standing before Brendon’s apartment door and hoping that his bondage chamber fear was completely irrational and unfounded. Brendon smiled a little as he fought to get the key in the lock (“It sticks,” he explained, followed by a quick apology) and Ryan watched the door swing open and reveal the apartment inside.
To Ryan’s relief, it was very normal, if not bland, and littered with things that people don’t seem to worry about when living alone-a dirty plate on the table and shoes thrown haphazardly in the middle of the floor. It felt comfortable and lived in.
“This is it,” Brendon said very predictably, gesturing to the whole of it.
The first thing that caught Ryan’s eye was the impressive shelf of CD’s sitting in the corner of the room.
“What do you have?” asked Ryan as he walked towards it.
“Oh, mostly oldies and things. Some random stuff thrown in there like… Broadway, or whatever,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.
Ryan nodded and laughed quietly, mostly at Brendon’s ridiculous habit of being so unsure of himself. “Put something on.”
“Oh, uh, ok,” replied Brendon. He ran a finger across the row of cases and stopped on one before pulling it out.
“The Beatles?” said Ryan.
“Might as well start out with a classic,” said Brendon, smiling.
“Are they good?”
Brendon stopped moving and then looking up at Ryan with wide eyes like, once again, Ryan was the loser. “Do not tell me that you’ve never listened to the Beatles.”
“Um?” Ryan shrugged.
Brendon clicked his tongue and put a CD into the stereo waiting close by. “I’m here to introduce you to the Fab Four. Your life will never be the same.”
* * *
Three hours later, Ryan felt a little like an idiot after getting into a music debate with Brendon and realizing just how little he knew or had listened to. Brendon had sworn to burn him copies of every good CD he owned so Ryan could finally start living.
“You are so lucky you have me,” Brendon said seriously.
“What would I do without you?” replied Ryan.
“Probably sit and waste away your unfulfilling life in the music store where you work. Dude, how have you worked in a job centered around music and never heard of some of these groups?”
Ryan tried not to hang his head, but he’d never been criticized so harshly about his taste in music. “Maybe… maybe I just wasn’t ready. There’s just some music that people sometimes aren’t ready for. Maybe I just wasn’t ready for Bob Dylan yet,” said Ryan, throwing out a random name.
Brendon made a face as to say, how can someone not be ready for Bob Dylan? Then he rolled his eyes and patted Ryan on the shoulder in a buddy-like way, saying, “We’ll culture you soon enough, Ryan.”
They both laughed.
* * *
It had been such a good night complete with great music and pretty awesome leftovers from Brendon’s fridge. While they tried to reheat portions of fettuccine alfredo, Ryan looked over at Brendon and smiled, thinking that he would have been happy just being friends with him because the kid was a lot of fun. Then he felt a little charge of excitement knowing that he got more than that. He’d leaned over and kissed Brendon at that moment, and Brendon just grinned as he pulled his food out of his old microwave.
But as great of a night it was, it turned awkward right around midnight when Ryan noticed the time and said he should probably be heading home.
Brendon held onto his wrist when Ryan tried to get up from the couch and said, “You could always stay here for the night. I could sleep on the couch. Or, you know. With you.”
Ryan opened his mouth to say no, he had work in the morning, but when he looked at Brendon to respond, he just stopped. It was like the black of Brendon’s pupils was bleeding around the edges until they were turning dark as pitch, staring Ryan down like he knew it was all he had to do to get what he wanted. Ryan felt his resolve weakening.
“I’m not sure that’d work so well,” Ryan stammered.
Brendon tugged on Ryan’s wrist until he came back down to sit by him.
“Please,” Brendon said, face close and fingers rubbing circles into Ryan’s pulse.
“I have to… wake up sort of early,” Ryan said, struggling to hold onto his train of thought as Brendon edged closer.
“We’ll set an alarm,” he practically breathed against Ryan’s cheek. Ryan shivered and let his eyes flutter almost closed as Brendon mouthed at his ear. Ryan was getting more agreeable by the second.
As one last attempt, he said, “I don’t want to bother you in the morning when I have to get up.”
Brendon’s mouth slid down from Ryan’s earlobe to right under the corner of his jaw, sucking and nipping as Ryan started to tremble. He flicked his tongue out and licked delicately at the edge of Ryan’s jaw before saying, “I’ll get over it.”
Ryan grabbed a handful of Brendon’s hair and pulled him up to meet him at the mouth, desperate but unsure. Unsure of what might happen once their lips met again. Maybe Ryan would kiss Brendon and suddenly have this big epiphany and realize, oh shit, he didn’t like guys after all.
Ryan was becoming a little afraid of his own heterosexuality.
As if Brendon knew he was thinking too hard, he stroked down the back of Ryan’s neck and twirled his fingers in the ends of Ryan’s hair, a trick he must have learned months ago and used all the time to calm Ryan down. Ryan stopped pressing so hard, easing off on the kiss into something more gentle and languid.
“How do you do that?” Ryan said, leaning his forehead against Brendon’s.
“What are you talking about?”
“Whenever I get worked up, you get eerily calm.”
Brendon smiled and pulled lightly on the hair curled around his fingers. “I don’t know. Maybe it makes it easier for me to be calm when you’re more nervous than I am.”
Ryan chuckled and Brendon went in for another kiss, longer and a more purposeful. It was just minutes before they were making out, sprawled along Brendon’s couch and kissing like they had moments left to live.
It was great. It was wonderful, and Ryan couldn’t remember being this turned on by kissing since he was fifteen. However, the mood was shot to the ground when Brendon gently took Ryan’s hand and tried to fit it around the crotch of his jeans. The moment Ryan’s hands touched Brendon’s erection, something snapped in his brain and he was wriggling out of Brendon’s grasp.
“Ryan?” Brendon said, honestly confused.
Ryan’s eyes darted around the room, unable to focus on anything, and he fidgeted as he said, “It’s, uh, getting really late and, like, I don’t know how well I’ll sleep in some unfamiliar place. I really need to head home. Now.”
Brendon shook his head seemingly at himself, and he looked up at Ryan with eyes full of hurt.
“I’m sorry,” he said unsteadily, not really sure what he was apologizing for.
“It’s cool, but I gotta run. I’ll, uh, see you later.” And Ryan was out the door with his keys before Brendon replied.
* * *
One week later, Ryan still didn’t have the balls to address the issue.
He answered his phone with a quick, “Yeah,” when he read Spencer’s name on the display.
“Hey, man. Haley wanted to go check out the art show downtown today. Since that’s more your area of expertise, I wanted to know if you felt like coming. I’m sure Haley would like it more if she had someone to actually talk about art with,” Spencer said, laughing a little at the end.
Ryan grinned and agreed.
He drove to Spencer’s house and rode with them down to the outdoor show. A full four blocks had been sectioned off for the show, making traffic a killer, and finding a parking space was like finding the lost bag at the airport. Predictably, Spencer was a little frazzled once they were out of the car and walking up to the first displays. But Haley just held his hand and rubbed his arm until he softened.
It was wonderful. The display tents showcased gorgeous art from individual local artists, and Ryan liked to chat with them while Haley inspected each piece closely. Spencer just held onto her hand and talked with Ryan while Haley was engrossed in the art.
“So, out of curiosity, how are you and Brendon doing?” Spencer said casually. “Haven’t heard about in him almost a week, which is probably a record by now.”
Ryan tried to seem nonchalant. “We’re doing ok.”
“Oh?” Spencer said with a smirk. “Last time you talked about him, things seemed to be pretty fantastic.”
Haley’s eyes broke away from a blown-glass vase and she looked up at Ryan with soft eyes. “Are you and Brendon not doing so well?”
“Uh, I guess not,” Ryan said. He was sort of surprised that Haley even knew who he was talking about. But then again, he probably should have counted on Spencer to tell her everything.
“Did something happen?” she said, suddenly more interested in Ryan’s love life than the stunning paintings in the next tent.
“I’m just… I don’t know. I think I’m still a little unsure about some things,” Ryan said, smoothing his hair down.
“Like what?” Spencer prodded.
“Well,” Ryan said, taking a breath, “it’s this whole physical thing, you know.”
“Oh, Ryan,” Haley said with a concerned look. “Is he forcing you into stuff?”
“Oh, no! Not at all!” Ryan quickly replied. “No, he’s actually been really patient with me during all this. But it’s just that I feel like something’s wrong if I don’t want to… be with someone I’m dating.”
“I appreciate your tact and all,” Spencer said with a familiar grin, “but you can say ‘fuck.’ It’s cool, we’re not thirteen anymore.”
Ryan’s attempt at keeping things from getting crude was clearly a waste of effort. He smiled anyway. “Fine then. I don’t know if I want to fuck him but I feel like I should. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think he’s attractive and I’d like to do way more than just kiss him, but when we actually get much beyond that, I just feel… awkward.”
Haley took Ryan’s hand while they walked, trying to comfort and assure him, Ryan guessed. She said, “You still don’t know if you’re gay yet,” and it wasn’t a question.
Ryan shrugged. He sidestepped out of the way of two kids running past on the crowded street.
“It’s hard to tell, for some people,” she said, eyes lingering on tents as the three walked by them. “There are guys who know they’re gay or straight their whole lives, and then there are ones like you who have to figure it out. Now, not to insult you or anything, but this sort of sounds like when teenage girls fall in love with their best friends.”
Spencer laughed and didn’t even try to stifle it. Ryan slugged him but Spencer still sounded like he was half-crying with amusement. He managed to snort something that sounded like, “You just called Ryan a teenage girl.”
Haley slapped him good-naturedly on the arm and continued. “What I meant was that a lot of girls think they’ve fallen for their best friend because that’s the only person who they feel like loves them for who they really are. And since girls go through so much shit because of guys in their teens, it’s easy for them to look to their friends for the love they normally want from guys. They crave the comfort and emotional connection so much that they can overlook the vag to get it. Do you think you’re just in it for the comfort and connection? From the sounds of things, you’re only unsure when you’re put in sexual situations.”
Ryan replied with, “It’s like… I want more in theory, but when put in the situation of getting more, I freak out.”
“So maybe Brendon really is a great person for you and you love him for his personality,” added Spencer, “but that doesn’t mean you’re gay.”
“I can’t believe myself for liking him as a person. What was I thinking?” Ryan laughed. Haley threw in a matching sarcastic comment and they all chuckled a little.
“But the point is it still doesn’t make you gay,” said Spencer.
“But what if I am gay?” Ryan pressed. He wasn’t ready to give this up yet. “I kind of want to be gay because Brendon is great and I hate the idea of not being with him.”
“That might be your problem right there,” Haley said. Her eyebrows knitted together sympathetically.
“Let me put it this way,” Spencer said logically, “you’re either confused but straight or such a virgin that it’s not even funny.”
Ryan gave him a hard glare and Haley snickered a little.
“I’m just trying to be sure,” insisted Ryan. He noticed a funnel cake stand up ahead and his stomach rumbled.
“I hate to tell you this, Ry, but this is the sort of thing you shouldn’t have stepped into the relationship with,” Haley said, voice soft despite her frankness. “And now you can only either break up with him and let him have a healthy relationship with some other guy or get over your blushing bride syndrome and fuck him.”
Ryan rolled his eyes, but it got him thinking.
* * *
They left the art show after another hour or so with stomachs full of funnel cake. When Ryan went to get into his car in Spencer’s driveway, Haley grabbed him by the elbow and said, “Let me know how things pan out, ok?”
Ryan nodded and gave her a small smile. Spencer would probably appreciate it if Ryan stopped giving him updates, anyway.
* * *
Another week passed and Ryan still hadn’t spoken to Brendon.
* * *
It was a stupid, black and white Geek Squad car pulling up beside him on the road that was the final straw for Ryan. Still driving home from work, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket and called Brendon.
“Hello?” said Brendon cheerfully. Ryan hoped he’d given the caller ID a look and wasn’t just giving his standard greeting.
“…Hey. It’s me,” said Ryan, fingers shaking a little.
Brendon paused and his voice dropped lower when he said, “Oh, hey.”
Ryan sighed a little. So maybe his fear of Brendon refusing to speak to him was a little overdramatic, but Brendon didn’t sound overjoyed to hear from him.
“Haven’t talked in a while,” Ryan said, a little lamely, he had to admit.
“I wanted to give you some space,” replied Brendon.
“Thank you… for that. I just called to… I don’t know, I wanted to talk to you,” fumbled Ryan.
“Wanted to talk, like, to chat, or like, we need to have a serious discussion sort of talking?”
Ryan shrugged in only his own presence. “Both, I suppose.”
Brendon sighed from the other end and said, “Can you tell me what happened? Why you flipped out.”
“I didn’t flip out.”
“Ryan,” Brendon said. “You bolted from my house like a scared rabbit.”
Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, phone growing warm against his cheek. “Maybe I was a little surprised.”
“Surprised? We’ve been together for months and you’re surprised that I want you to touch me?” Instead of being irritated, Brendon started laughing.
“Yeah! Surprised,” Ryan said defensively. “You know I’ve never been with a guy before.”
Brendon quieted his tittering and said, “Well, yeah, but it’s not like you’re a complete virgin. You’ve had sex, Ryan. You’ve touched other people’s naked bits and they’ve touched yours. Hell, I’ve touched yours. This would probably be a little easier to deal with if it was just you being self-conscious or something. But it’s almost like…”
“Like what?” Ryan prompted when Brendon trailed off.
“Like you just don’t want to touch me.”
Ryan was solemnly silent for a minute. Even in his silence, Brendon’s sounded crushed.
“It’s not what you think,” Ryan tried to explain.
“Then what is it, Ryan?” spat Brendon, starting to lose patience.
Ryan mentally groped for words to correctly articulate what his dilemma was. After a few struggling noises, he said, “I’m just not used to things.”
“Not used to things or not sure of things, Ryan? There’s a difference. ‘Cause I can work with you not being used to things. But when you doubt your sexuality when you’re with me, there’s very little I can do.”
Ryan began to panic. This conversation was going in the completely wrong direction. He was meaning to call up, apologize, and try to explain to Brendon that he just wanted a chance to get accustomed to things. Things were starting to go off track, and they were going to crash any second.
“Please just give me some time,” said Ryan.
“You know what, I’ve given you time and I’ve given you space, but there’s a point where you can’t blame it on your damn nerves anymore,” said Brendon, temper flaring briefly. Ryan felt his resolve melting against Brendon’s exasperation.
There was an uncomfortably long, pregnant pause, and Ryan waited for Brendon to continue.
“And… I don’t know what you expect of me, Ryan,” said Brendon. His tone softened to an almost defeated whimper. “I’m too fucking attracted to you to be satisfied with just kissing and cuddling all the time. As much as I love you, I can’t be in a relationship with you where you won’t fucking touch me. Like you’re dangling yourself in front of me but won’t let me have you.”
“Brendon, wait,” Ryan started. His throat was beginning to constrict, a nasty taste invading his mouth.
Brendon sighed and concluded with, “I would rather be just friends with you if you can’t handle us being together sexually.”
“No, no, no,” Ryan chanted, one hand gripping the steering wheel hard. “No, please. Don’t.”
“Take some more time to work it out, Ry. Call me when you have your shit together.” Brendon’s voice was tinged with something bitter.
“No, no, wait!” Ryan pleaded. But Brendon had already hung up the phone.
It was a miracle that he could manage to breathe for the rest of the way home. And when he finally unlocked the front door and dropped his jacket on the kitchen table, he barely managed to keep from breaking down into tears.
* * *
Time started to be very significant without Brendon around. Ryan was aware of every day he wasn’t there, like his brain had started making deep, jagged tally marks inside his head without him knowing. It would explain the headaches, though.
He tried working more hours to fill up the time he would have spent with Brendon. He hung out with Spencer a little more, but he always felt like he was dragging the mood down. Mostly, he was alone in his house. He took to writing more, plunging into community college homework with substantial force. His professor was impressed with his recent work, even if it was a little darker than normal.
“It’s like an emotional tidal wave hitting me as I’m reading this,” she’d said, eyes running over the paper.
Ryan usually just shrugged when she would compliment him. Writing beautiful pieces of poetry and compelling short stories was doing nothing to aid him in real life. While he would have considered them accomplishments before, they just seemed so pointless now.
For days, he felt like the only thing he actually accomplished was staying alive.
* * *
He slept fitfully for the first week or two. It was hard for him to settle down enough to actually fall asleep, and he slept so lightly that he didn’t feel rested at all in the mornings.
More time went by and his body couldn’t take it. He was exhausting himself, and one night, he drifted off while reading on his couch. And for the first time since he’d last talked to Brendon, things were peaceful.
When he finally regained some sense of consciousness, the world felt fuzzy and dimmed around the edges, like Ryan was drunk but didn’t remember getting into any alcohol. The colors in front of his eyes made a blur of neutral tones. Skin tones. Hair. Things starts coming into focus a little better and he started to realize he was looking at a person. Who, he couldn’t tell, and he hadn’t the faintest idea what they were doing. But… there was movement. It was slow, but they were still shifting rhythmically.
All of a sudden, Ryan forgot about what he was looking at and felt a piercing-like sensation shooting through him. He cried out and gritted his teeth, hands balling into fists. Then he felt it melt away into something warm and pleasurable, the pain dissolving into a heavy need in his stomach. He couldn’t clear his head long enough to wonder what was going on anymore.
His breathing moved a little faster, hitching on the end when that sharp feeling would sometimes strike his nerves. It came to him that he was moving too, rocking his body back and forth. Before long, the pleasure spread to every fingertip until even the pain started to feel good. Overwhelmingly good, really. It was only then that Ryan started to understand, “Oh, this is one of those dreams.”
It’d been years since Ryan had had a wet dream, but he remembered that the only thing actually good about them was that everything felt amplified, every tiny nerve so tight that the smallest stimulation felt staggering. He could feel the sweat beading up on his skin. He could feel his whole body pulsing, his cock throbbing. It felt so fucking amazing that Ryan couldn’t keep himself from moaning and gasping, head thrown back.
A mouth came down to suck on the stretch of exposed neck, and he was reminded that he wasn’t alone. Without thinking about it, he reached up and tangled his fingers in short, thick hair. However, his fingers stuck a little like they were traveling through hair wax.
His brain stopped for a second. Hair wax. Brendon. It was Brendon’s hair.
His heart hammered harder in his chest and another moan slipped out between his teeth. Brendon chuckled darkly, using that voice that he only used when his eyes would go smoky and his body would turn fluid.
“Oh, god. Oh, god,” Ryan whined, hips moving faster and harder.
That’s when something came into the spotlight. The way his hips were moving was strange and awkward, not the way he was used to. He felt his knees hit his shoulders and the dulling pain hitting oddly low, and things started to come in a little clearer.
The visual sharpened and Brendon was on his hands and knees over Ryan, hips beating hard against Ryan’s ass, fucking him.
Like the realization was almost too much, Ryan’s eyes rolled back and he breathed out, “Oh, god, Brendon.”
The litany of groans and “fuck” spilled out of Brendon’s pretty mouth, and Ryan echoed them louder, rolling his hips up to meet with every keen thrust. It felt perfect.
He wondered how he could ever have doubted himself, how he could ever have fooled himself into thinking that he didn’t want this. God, he wanted it. Wanted it hard and dirty and with Brendon. And he didn’t want it to stop. He wanted to have this until they were coming their brains out, and then he wanted to turn Brendon around and fuck him next. No doubt. No question.
“More,” Ryan said, back arching. “Please, more.”
Brendon responded with a sharp thrust and his hand slithered down to sloppily stroke Ryan. The world started rushing around him and he felt like he was being inflated, like he was rising up and up and up and he was a little afraid of how he was going to come down. Fear started curling in the pit of his stomach along with a delicious heat that had him practically screaming as Brendon rammed into him and jerked a shaky hand over Ryan’s cock.
Static crackled in his ears and all he could really process was the flood of sensations, all too overpowering for him to know what to do. And all of a sudden, he felt like he was falling from a cliff but with a sense of calm that made it impossible to feel afraid of hitting the ground.
With a jolt, he awoke and found himself on his couch with a slimy feeling in the front of his jeans, heart still pounding and forehead a little damp from sweat.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
* * *
Before Haley even uttered a greeting, Ryan jumped in with, “Haley? Do you have a minute?”
“It is currently eight in the morning, and normally you’re not awake at this hour.” The neither am I went unspoken.
“Something happened. I think I just figured things out,” said Ryan, finger twitching excitedly.
“What exactly does that mean?” asked Haley sluggishly.
“I had a dream about Brendon last night.”
“Is it safe to assume what kind you had?” Haley laughed.
“It was fucking awesome.” Haley laughed harder.
“Last time I checked, you were twenty years old, not fourteen. If Spencer were here, he’d be mocking you. Mercilessly.”
Ryan frowned and tried to change the direction. “You’re missing the point entirely, Haley.”
“Sorry, sorry. So have you gotten over your own indecision yet?” she said, clearing her throat and sounding a little more alert. “Are you ready to go and fuck Brendon senseless?”
“Well,” Ryan said in a halting tone. “…I’m just trying not to overanalyze the dream because clearly my head can exaggerate how good it would feel, so I’m wary about giving it too much importance. I mean, what if I only like the idea of it because of the dream?”
“Ryan.”
“Because it’s not like that’s really an accurate comparison. Of course wet dreams are going to be sexy, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to like a-”
“Ryan,” Haley said, commanding his attention.
Ryan screeched to a stop. “What?”
“Your body and your subconscious are clearly down with you sleeping with Brendon, so why are you questioning yourself again? You love that boy, and having sex with him will probably be the best thing you’ve done in this relationship so far. For God’s sake, you’re so fucking gay that you have to chat about this with your friends, and you ask a girl for advice in your gay relationship. Now get off the goddamn phone with me and call Brendon.”
Ryan took a deep breath. “Ok. Yeah, ok, I will.”
“Also,” Haley added, “I don’t mean to be a bitch, because I really am interested in how this goes down, but could you wait until it’s a decent hour next time?”
“Eight is not that early,” insisted Ryan, even though he knew that he usually slept until 10:30 on early days.
“Your biological clock has clearly gone askew from the last time I checked,” she said, and they both laughed.
“But really,” she said, voice soft with earnestness, “talk to him.”
* * *
Ryan showed up at Brendon’s apartment at eleven at night without any notice, and Brendon hesitantly buzzed him in the apartment building.
He was waiting for Ryan when the boy made it up the elevator and down to his door. Brendon was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame in a white shirt and black jeans. As he heard Ryan barreling down the hall, he looked up and stood at attention.
“What do you want?” he said when Ryan finally stopped in front of him. His tone lacked any accusations. He was purely confused.
“I want all of it. I can’t stand the idea of living without all of it. I was scared and I took about way too long to figure it out, but I don’t want to agonize over this anymore. I won’t be like that last guy,” Ryan said, barely breaking to breathe. Then he grabbed Brendon by the shoulders and kissed him hard.
To Ryan’s relief, Brendon didn’t miss a beat. It took them seconds until Brendon had him pressed against the doorframe with his hands on Ryan’s hips. Something pleasant and white hot flooded through his body when Brendon snuck his tongue past Ryan’s lips.
“Get in,” Brendon said, yanking Ryan inside his apartment and slamming the door closed. He pushed Ryan against the wood and locked the deadbolt with his eyes closed and his tongue in Ryan’s mouth.
It was like something wild had finally been unlocked, and Ryan was clawing at Brendon’s back and kissing back so hard that Brendon had to pry Ryan’s hands away and pin them above his head.
“Calm down,” Brendon joked. “There’s no hurry.”
“There absolutely is a hurry,” Ryan huffed indignantly.
Brendon groaned, pleased, but said, “I don’t want you rushing into this.”
“Brendon,” Ryan said. “I’m asking you to have sex with me and you’re dragging your ass, here.”
Brendon laughed and mouthed at Ryan’s neck before replying with, “I just don’t want you to do this on impulse or something.”
“Dude, it took me hours to get up the courage to come, plus twenty minutes to drive here. I think I would have given up by now if it was just an impulse,” Ryan assured him, arching his hips off the door and pressing close to Brendon, making them both gasp.
Brendon let go of Ryan’s hands and used them to palm Ryan’s ass.
“For your sake, I hope you mean that,” Brendon said huskily. “Because, at this point, I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from raping you even if you changed your mind.”
Ryan whined, stomach feeling jerky but in a pleasant way. “Take your pants off, Brendon. This has already taken long enough.”
* * *
“It’s official, Spencer Smith-I love men,” Ryan announced victoriously into the mouthpiece of his phone.
Spencer tarried for a second before saying, “I hope you don’t call to tell me this every time you and Brendon have sex.”
Ryan gave a dry laugh. “’Cause it would be a lot, I already know this.”
Spencer howled with laughter and managed to say amidst it, “Glad to hear things worked out for you.”
“Me too.” A genuinely content grin eased across Ryan’s mouth, smoothing down years of frowning and fake smiles. It made him feel weightless.
“I’m restating my comment about being The Best Straight Friend Ever for being so involved in this.”
“So selfless,” Ryan joshed.
“I do my part,” said Spencer, absolutely serious. “So this is the real deal? No more uncertainty?”
“God, no. It only takes one time with a dick up your ass to know-”
“Above and beyond the call of duty!” Spencer shouted before snapping his cell phone closed. Ryan just kept laughing.
A sleepy groan came from behind Ryan as Brendon stumbled out into the kitchen of his apartment. He was still naked. At least Ryan had had the decency to put underwear on before he left the bedroom. But then again, it was Brendon’s apartment.
“Early,” Brendon moaned.
“Eleven in the morning,” corrected Ryan. Brendon came up and rested his forehead on Ryan’s shoulder as his arms wrapped around Ryan’s middle.
“Still early. Come back. Surrender to sleep.”
Ryan smiled and put down his phone as he followed Brendon back into the bedroom. A few more hours of sleep sounded nice.
The End