Easy Comfort (drabble)
takkatakkatakka challenged me to write something like this, so.... DRABBLE!!!!
*Drabble*Easy Comfort*Brendon/Ryan*PG*
The table is small, and when Ryan slides into the faded wooden chair, seemingly bleached already from bright California sun, his knees push up against the underside of the table when he settles in. He stretches his feet out so that he doesn’t push up the table, and across the two bowls and the milk and the box of Lucky Charms, Brendon grins at the first brush of their sock covered feet.
“Playing footsie with me, Ross?” Brendon teases, and his foot slides a little up the curve of Ryan’s calf.
“Your table is small,” Ryan says, but he lets his foot circle Brendon’s, and there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “It must be because you’re a munchkin.”
Brendon looks playfully affronted, but he laughs easily, shaking his head because he knows how Ryan is. Of course he knows.
The sun is filtering in through the window that Ryan knows is behind him, and Brendon looks beautiful even after waking up a mere ten minutes ago.
Ryan would have been content with just lying with Brendon, curled up around each other in bed, but when Brendon’s stomach, his stomach that was pressed against Ryan’s side, had grumbled, Ryan had agreed that breakfast sounded like a good idea.
Now, Brendon reaches for the cereal, his feet still touching Ryan’s, their socks sliding against each other, clinging. He smiles over at Ryan, pouring cereal into both of their bowls, then the milk.
When Brendon takes the first bite of his cereal, Ryan watches as Brendon’s lips fit around the spoon. He watches the smooth line of Brendon’s throat as he swallows, and faintly in the distance, outside of the bright light of where they’re sitting, Ryan hears Brendon’s dog bark, clearly wanting breakfast, too.
Brendon raises his eyebrow when he catches Ryan staring, nudges Ryan’s spoon with his own, and Ryan grins when he takes it. “What?” Brendon asks.
Ryan just shakes his head, soft smile - that smile that always seems to be around when Brendon is - on his lips and says, “Nothing.” He just goes back to the feel of Brendon’s feet teasing him, reminding him of how their bodies just were, reminding him of what’s awaiting him later, and he takes another bite.
*Drabble*Easy Comfort*Brendon/Ryan*PG*
The table is small, and when Ryan slides into the faded wooden chair, seemingly bleached already from bright California sun, his knees push up against the underside of the table when he settles in. He stretches his feet out so that he doesn’t push up the table, and across the two bowls and the milk and the box of Lucky Charms, Brendon grins at the first brush of their sock covered feet.
“Playing footsie with me, Ross?” Brendon teases, and his foot slides a little up the curve of Ryan’s calf.
“Your table is small,” Ryan says, but he lets his foot circle Brendon’s, and there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “It must be because you’re a munchkin.”
Brendon looks playfully affronted, but he laughs easily, shaking his head because he knows how Ryan is. Of course he knows.
The sun is filtering in through the window that Ryan knows is behind him, and Brendon looks beautiful even after waking up a mere ten minutes ago.
Ryan would have been content with just lying with Brendon, curled up around each other in bed, but when Brendon’s stomach, his stomach that was pressed against Ryan’s side, had grumbled, Ryan had agreed that breakfast sounded like a good idea.
Now, Brendon reaches for the cereal, his feet still touching Ryan’s, their socks sliding against each other, clinging. He smiles over at Ryan, pouring cereal into both of their bowls, then the milk.
When Brendon takes the first bite of his cereal, Ryan watches as Brendon’s lips fit around the spoon. He watches the smooth line of Brendon’s throat as he swallows, and faintly in the distance, outside of the bright light of where they’re sitting, Ryan hears Brendon’s dog bark, clearly wanting breakfast, too.
Brendon raises his eyebrow when he catches Ryan staring, nudges Ryan’s spoon with his own, and Ryan grins when he takes it. “What?” Brendon asks.
Ryan just shakes his head, soft smile - that smile that always seems to be around when Brendon is - on his lips and says, “Nothing.” He just goes back to the feel of Brendon’s feet teasing him, reminding him of how their bodies just were, reminding him of what’s awaiting him later, and he takes another bite.