Asymmetrical (Part six)
It’s still raining when Jon and Ryan wake up at six in the morning. Ryan blames waking up so early on jetlag and time zones. Usually, he loves to sleep, and it’d be easy to keep sleeping with the warmth of Jon and Ryan tangled in the guest bedroom of Tom’s apartment. There was a note left on Tom’s pillow asking that, if Jon and Ryan fucked on the sheets, they wash them afterward, but neither of them were comfortable with the thought of making out in Tom’s bed, so they regulated to the guest room. The soft drizzling of the rain against the windows and the metal balcony also makes it easy to drift in and out of sleep.
Eventually, they decide to make out. Ryan is on his back, surrounded by sweet-smelling pillows (either the guest bed is rarely used or Tom launders the bedding frequently) with Jon on top of him, lying between Ryan’s spread legs. Everything is slow and warm and comfortably quiet. They’re not talking, just sharing kisses, passing them back and forth like promises or secrets. Jon’s arms are on either side of Ryan’s shoulders and his top half is leaning over Ryan, making Ryan arch from the pillows to catch his mouth.
Jon ruts lightly against Ryan’s thigh. Ryan spreads his legs farther, giving Jon more room to work with and hooking his leg around the back of Jon’s thigh. He groans softly when Jon bites carefully at his bottom lip before he licks over the skin to soothe the pain. Jon is hard. Ryan manages to get his hand between them, and he pets at Jon’s hip before wedging it between them, brushing his fingers teasingly over Jon’s hard cock. Jon is fully hard and breaks their kiss wetly to moan aloud into the silence of the apartment.
Ryan takes his hand from Jon to cup himself. He’s a little hard, though not fully. He grinds the heel of his palm against his cock, hoping that the same process from the shower will take effect here. Ryan’s fingers brush against Jon’s cock in the process. Jon holds his upper half against Ryan but he ruts against Ryan’s hand shamelessly.
“Ryan,” Jon groans. It’s the first word spoken between them in a huge stretches of minutes. “Fuck, I’m close. Can I just - can I keep going?” Jon asks. He looks down at Ryan with dark eyes. His voice is so deep, a rumble in his chest that vibrates out into Ryan’s, through his blood and straight to his cock, making it jerk under his hands. Jon bites his lip, his hips stilling like he thinks Ryan’s going to say no.
“You can. Yeah, just - hang on,” Ryan says. He draws his hand back, making Jon groan from the lack of touch. Ryan presses his hips up. He angles himself just right so that his cock brushes Jon’s when he presses upwards into Jon’s body.
“Fuck,” Jon moans. It’s been a long time for Jon, Ryan knows, since he’s had something besides his hand. It’s good like this - Ryan wants to be the one to make Jon come apart. He wants the privilege of watching what his imagination had built for him. Ryan steadily grows harder, a good sign, and he tries not to think about it too hard in case he worries himself right out of his hard-on.
Jon pushes down and rocks forward. Ryan gets both of his legs hooked around the back of Jon’s calves. They’re both wearing pants - Ryan in sweatpants and Jon in basketball shorts - and while it would be better if they were skin-to-skin, Jon is apparently too close right now to bother stripping either of them. With Ryan’s legs hooked over Jon’s, they move better, Jon grinding down harsh and fast, and - oh, oh, it’s better than Ryan thought it would be. Jon leans in to kiss at Ryan’s collarbone, scraping his teeth lightly over skin stretched across bone.
Ryan drinks the two of them in. He takes in the scene, the moment, like he’s looking up and watching them without being a part of it: Jon’s broad, muscled back curled over him, his head bent and mouth open, hair tickling Ryan’s chest, their hips grinding together. Ryan wonders what he looks like, curling in, arching up, head back in the pillows, mouth open. Ryan doesn’t think of his ailment, of the piece of him that’s missing … he can’t even see it in his mind’s eye. All he can see is Jon and how Ryan’s body is reacting favorably to him.
Every pass of Jon’s hard cock brushing over Ryan’s sends electricity through Ryan’s body, making his cock twitch and grow harder, begging for attention stronger than Jon’s own clothing-bound cock rubbing against it. Jon doesn’t seem to have this problem, though, and Ryan is drawn from his own pleasure by Jon crying out, his hips working furiously. Jon is essentially humping Ryan’s crotch and then he freezes, his hips twitching. Jon bites softly into Ryan’s shoulder as he comes in his shorts.
Jon rests his weight on top of Ryan, breathing harsh against Ryan’s throat. Jon kisses Ryan’s throat, lips ghosting over Ryan’s Adam’s apple. Every touch and kiss makes Ryan’s skin erupt in gooseflesh, shivers running through him. Jon raises his head.
“You’re hard,” Jon says. Ryan opens his eyes and looks at him, nodding. “I want to - ”Jon starts. “Can I get you off? I want to.” Jon’s voice is even deeper after he’s come, his mouth red. Ryan bites his lip.
“I’m not sure,” Ryan says. “What if it happens again?”
“We’ll deal with it.” Jon kisses Ryan’s chest, trailing his mouth down to lick over Ryan’s nipple, blowing cool air over it and watching it harden to a peak in response. Ryan gasps and shivers again. “I just want to make you feel good,” Jon says. He slides his mouth lower, letting his tongue trail down the soft give of Ryan’s stomach.
“Okay,” Ryan says. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the pillow. “Okay.”
Jon’s mouth meets the waistband of Ryan’s sweatpants. He glances up at Ryan before he reaches out and slowly peels back the fabric. Ryan lifts his hips so that Jon can roll them down, tugging them off and throwing them haphazardly over his shoulder. Jon rests his hands on Ryan’s ankles, smoothing his hands up Ryan’s thin legs, his fingers dancing over Ryan’s skin. Jon touches Ryan’s thighs, fingers tickling so lightly that Ryan almost feels like he’s imagining it. His skin is lit for Jon, erupting with gooseflesh under Jon’s fingers. He shivers in anticipation.
He’s a little scared that he’ll lose his hard-on if Jon doesn’t speed up the process, but when Jon looks at him with dark eyes and a filthy smirk, Ryan is sure he’ll be fine. Jon doesn’t touch Ryan’s cock, though. His hands go to Ryan’s hips, cupping them, his thumbs pressing against bone. Jon’s mouth goes back to Ryan’s stomach. He nuzzles Ryan’s stomach and kisses around his belly button. Ryan shivers, but he doesn’t move. He wants Jon to explore him to his fill. He wishes he could do the same.
Jon’s hands spread Ryan’s thighs wider apart, his hands cupping Ryan’s inner thighs. He dips his head and noses at the skin there before kissing Ryan’s thigh. It’s just a light brush of lips, but Ryan whimpers lightly. Jon’s thumb brushes the heavy weight of Ryan’s balls before he cups them in his hand, rolling them gently. Ryan can barely breathe. His cock is aching now. He’s harder than he ever was in the shower, harder than he’s been in months.
Ryan grabs for Jon’s shoulder. He doesn’t want look away or miss one second, one touch; he doesn’t want to miss anything. His hand flies to Jon’s shoulder because he feels like he needs to be grounded and he wants to feel Jon, too. “Jon!” Ryan chokes out. Jon looks at him through his lashes, smiling lightly. Jon doesn’t wait to hear if Ryan has anything to say before he leans in and drops a kiss on the tip of Ryan’s dick. His tongue flickers out over the slit. Ryan hisses, his fingers digging into the fine muscle of Jon’s shoulder. It seems Jon is content to take it slow and draw out Ryan’s pleasure now that he has Ryan’s body cooperating with him.
Jon licks around the head of Ryan’s cock with careful, long strokes of his tongue. He pulls back and spits in his palm, curling his hand around Ryan’s dick to wet the shaft. Ryan groans, his hips arching up a little. He tries to bend forward and catch Jon’s mouth in a kiss. Jon leans forward, his hand still on Ryan’s dick, and they meet in a kiss, their teeth clacking. He settles back on the bed and lets Jon squeeze the base of his dick before he closes his mouth around the head.
It seems Jon’s patience has passed. He works fast, swallowing sloppily around Ryan’s dick. He still can’t take much of Ryan, but Ryan can’t tear his eyes away anyway. He can’t stop watching the way Jon’s mouth is stretched already - he barely has any of Ryan down. Jon’s eyes flick to Ryan’s face. Ryan groans at the raw heat in Jon’s eyes. He’s embarrassed to make noises, his sounds too loud in the stillness of the room. Jon swallows and hums around Ryan’s cock, the head of his dick bumping the back of Jon’s throat. A moan is torn from Ryan’s chest and Jon groans in response, sounding pleased that he drew that sort of reaction from Ryan.
Ryan’s hand shifts to cup the side of Jon’s neck. He can feel the tendons shift under his fingers when he presses his thumb into the hollow of Jon’s throat. He can feel Jon swallow. Ryan pants loud and noisy. Jon slips lower. Ryan doesn’t expect him to take it all - he doesn’t know if Jon’s ever even blown someone before - and he’s sloppy, making obscenely wet noises around his cock. It’s a beautiful thing to see: Jon with his mouth full of Ryan. Jon’s lips are stretched red and swollen. He jerks Ryan off where his mouth can’t reach. Ryan moves his hand and sets it atop Jon’s head, fingers curling in Jon’s hair, still a little too short.
Ryan doesn’t force Jon to take him down all the way. He just holds on to Jon’s hair, wanting to feel that much more connected to Jon. Jon pulls off Ryan’s cock to catch his breath, but he doesn’t stay off for long. He kisses Ryan’s cock, nosing down his shaft and setting his mouth against Ryan’s balls, licking at them gently. Ryan moans with less shame now, too caught up in how good it feels to have Jon sucking at his balls, rolling them in his mouth. Jon’s facial hair scrapes him but doesn’t hurt; it only makes it feel that much more amazing. Ryan arches against the mattress, his fingers tightening in Jon’s hair. With the way Ryan’s hips press up, his cock bumps Jon’s face, brushing wetly against his cheek and leaving behind a sticky trail of pre-come and spit.
Jon goes back to Ryan’s dick, valiantly sucking Ryan down again farther than he had before. Jon gags, but Ryan moans, so Jon doesn’t pull off. He just pulls back so that Ryan’s cock is no longer brushing his throat. Ryan’s missed this. He’s missed feeling loved, he’s missed this physical connection with another person, and he almost wants to cry with how much he feels alive in this moment. With his cock in Jon's mouth, he feels more like himself for the first time since the accident.
Ryan’s close to the edge, his body shivering with a built-up release that’s been a long time coming. He wants Jon to make him come. He wants Jon to pull his orgasm from him. He wants nothing more in his life than to lie in bed with Jon and trade off sexual favors. Jon sucks harshly, breathing heavily out of his nose and sucking hard at Ryan’s cock as if he knows that Ryan is close. “Jon,” Ryan chokes out. “Jon, I’m going to - ” he tries to warn Jon. Jon still doesn’t pull off. He stays with his mouth wrapped around Ryan’s dick. Ryan holds on as he shakes apart, pressing his hips up to meet Jon’s mouth. He comes so hard that the whole world whites out around him; nothing matters except for him and Jon and their pleasure.
Jon releases his dick and presses his nose to Ryan’s thigh, kissing the soft skin there. Ryan releases Jon’s hair, carding his fingers through Jon’s soft locks to fix the mussed strands. Ryan lies there in the guest bed, dazed, slowly coming back to himself. Jon’s still mouthing at Ryan’s thigh, sending little aftershocks of pleasure through him. Jon kisses Ryan’s rapidly softening cock. Ryan groans. He can feel Jon’s smile against his skin. Jon keeps moving upwards, his mouth trailing up Ryan’s stomach and his chest, ghosting over Ryan’s nipples until Jon is settled over Ryan.
Jon smiles lazily, his mouth swollen and red, and kisses Ryan. He carefully opens his mouth under Jon’s. He can taste himself bitter on Jon’s tongue, but he doesn’t mind. He’s too warm and sated to mind much of anything right now. Ryan and Jon are pressed skin to skin. Ryan’s eyes grow heavy. Jon just watches him, kissing Ryan’s cheeks and mouth.
“I’m glad we got to do this,” Jon whispers into Ryan’s hair. His voice is so much rougher than Ryan’s ever heard it. He tingles happily that it was his cock that caused it. Ryan nods and pets his hand limply down Jon’s damp back.
“We should always do it,” Ryan says. “You can feel free to blow me any time you want.” Ryan is happy that there’s nothing wrong with he and Jon as a duo.
Ryan falls back to sleep after Jon goes to take a shower. He dozes, lazy and sated and happier than he’s felt in a long time now. He’s almost afraid to feel this content, like he isn’t allowed to get too comfortable before someone will decide to shake up his life again. Ryan wakes up when Jon comes back, still damp from his shower, his skin warm. He touches Ryan’s shoulders gently.
“Hey, you wanna take a shower while I scrounge up some grub?” Ryan sighs and stretches. He sort of wants to stay in Tom’s guest bed all day. “The rain makes you lazy,” Jon teases as he dips in to press a sweet kiss to Ryan’s cheek, fingers wiping away the dampness left behind by his mouth.
Ryan sits up and pushes a hand through his hair as Jon finishes dressing. The living room/kitchen of Tom’s apartment is old, drafty with the rain. Ryan hurries through the area to the little bathroom. The bathroom is still warm from Jon, steam fogging up the mirror. The shower is just a cylinder with shelves built in for shampoo and bars of soap to rest on. Ryan doesn’t have to worry about slipping as he gets in. Tom only has the tiny bottles of shampoo that you collect from hotels. Ryan can work those one-handed.
He showers and feels good, clean and new, like he’s shed a shell he didn’t know he was wearing. When Ryan comes back through the chilly kitchen, Jon is standing there with a to-go bag in his hands from what looks like a diner and his cell phone to his ear. Ryan goes to get dressed. He catches snippets of Jon’s conversation.
“Okay, a half-hour? Yes. Yeah, I’ll be there by then.”
Ryan frowns and tugs on his t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He can hear Jon ending the phone call and then the rustling of the bag that Jon was holding before he appears in the doorway. “Hey, I got us some breakfast,” Jon says.
“Okay. Who were you talking to?” Ryan asks as he scrubs his towel over his head. He tries for casual, but he’s not so sure he succeeds. He has a feeling he knows who Jon was talking to on the phone. Jon looks to the floor and scratches at his arm.
“Cassie,” Jon says. “I told her I wanted to come get Dylan and Clover.”
“Oh,” Ryan says. He doesn’t know what else to say. He doesn’t want to talk about her. It’s not that Ryan doesn’t like her. He’s always thought Cassie was a nice person, but it’s too awkward now. What is he supposed to say about the girl that the person he’s with used to date?
“She asked if she could keep Marley,” Jon says. “He makes her feel safer living on her own.”
“Oh,” Ryan says again. Jon sounds sad and instantly tired. Ryan wants to collapse into him, but he also doesn’t want to touch him, not if he’s thinking about someone else.
“Do you want to go with me?” Jon asks.
“To get your pets?”
Jon nods. “Yeah, I understand if you don’t or if you want to just hang out here until I get back, but - ” Jon trails off. He still sounds sad. Ryan steps forward and walks to Jon. Jon reaches out automatically to touch at Ryan’s hip where his t-shirt has ridden up.
“She’s not going to want to see me,” Ryan says.
“You don’t have to go inside,” Jon says. “But I’d feel better knowing you were there.” In this moment, Jon needs Ryan. He’s so used to it being the other way around that he’s surprised. After all of the things Jon has done for him, Ryan won’t turn him down.
“I’ll go,” Ryan says. “Moral support or whatever. I’ll go.”
Jon is touching both of his hips now, hands spread open against his skin. Jon kisses Ryan and then presses his mouth to Ryan’s ear, whispering, “Thank you.”
***
Jon is nervous the whole way to his old place. It makes sense. It’s Jon’s neighborhood and Jon’s home. Cassie was almost Jon’s wife, but now none of it is his. He has to travel hours in an airplane to even see his pets. Ryan never realized how much Jon’s life changed, just as much as Ryan’s own has changed. Ryan’s only been to Jon’s home a handful of times so he doesn’t recognize when Jon gets closer, turning off into a back trail that leads to the driveway.
There’s a “for sale” sign in the mound of earth next to the driveway. Ryan raises an eyebrow. “For sale?”
“Yeah,” Jon says. “Neither of us wants it. She’s just staying here until someone buys it.”
Ryan plays with the seatbelt over his chest. They’re driving Tom’s car. Ryan is a little uncomfortable, but Chicago traffic is a little less insane than L.A. traffic. Ryan has to push his faith into Jon and remember that Jon will keep him safe. They stop in the driveway up near Jon’s old house. Jon’s car is parked out in the driveway. Ryan doesn’t ask about it. Jon stares at his old home like he’s afraid to go inside. Ryan touches his knee in the same way Jon does to him whenever he’s scared.
Jon looks up and smiles at Ryan. Fear taints his smile, sadness draping his face. “You’ll be okay,” Ryan says - he’s not asking, he’s telling. He knows Jon will be okay. Jon nods before leaning over and giving Ryan a quick kiss.
“I’ll be back,” he says. Ryan nods. He watches Jon get out of the car, tucking his cell phone into the back pocket of his jeans. Jon walks to the front door, stiff and uncomfortable. He knocks - it must be weird for him to be knocking on his own door. The door opens, but Ryan doesn’t see her. Jon slips inside. Ryan grows worried and bored almost instantly. What if seeing Cassie sparks something inside of Jon? What if he wants to be here again? Ryan feels stupid sitting out in the car while God-knows-what happens inside.
He’s pulled from his thoughts by his phone vibrating in his pocket. It’s Spencer - Ryan forgot he was supposed to call Spencer when they landed in Chicago. He quickly answers the phone before Spencer starts assuming he’s died or Jon’s lost him.
“Hey, Spence,” Ryan says.
“How’s Chicago?”
“Rainy. How’s L.A?”
“Seventy-five degrees and gorgeous,” Spencer says. Ryan can hear the smirk in his voice. Talking to Spencer jogs the events of the days leading up to their departure to Chicago, the last dinner they had together … what Ryan and Jon both saw Dallon doing. Should he say something? Now would be the perfect time. He really should. If Spencer saw Jon doing something, he’d want Spencer to tell him.
“Hey, Spence, uh - ”Ryan begins, clearing his throat and unbuckling his seatbelt to get more comfortable.
“Yeah?” Spencer prompts when the silence drags on too long.
“At that lunch on Thursday before Jon and I left … I saw something a little surprising.”
“Yeah?” Spencer says again, his voice sounding more strained than before.
“Yeah. I saw you and that Dallon guy outside in Brendon’s backyard. I saw you guys kissing.” There’s a still silence. Ryan is half-sure that Spencer hung up the phone. “Spence?”
“I’m here. I just … it’s not that strange, is it?”
“A little. How well do you even know him?”
“Oh, right, because you’ve been best friends with everyone you’ve ever kissed?” Spencer snaps.
“Hey, look, that’s not what I thought was strange! It was … look, Spence, I don’t know if you’re dating Dallon or whatever, but you have to know that I think he’s cheating on you if you are.”
“Cheating on me? What?” Spencer doesn’t sound mad. He sounds confused. Ryan thinks he should be mad. Maybe he shouldn’t be telling Spencer after all. It’s too late to take back what he said, though, so he barrels on.
“Jon saw Dallon kissing Brendon that same night. He’s, like … he’s fucking around with the both of you.”
“Oh,” Spencer says. Again, he doesn’t sound upset.
“I don’t think that’s the right word for when your new bandmate is cheating on you,” Ryan says. He watches Jon’s house and doesn’t picture anything that he shouldn’t be picturing happening inside. Jon’s just visiting Marley, they’re just trying to catch the cats, and he’s just telling her that he’s alright in L.A.
Spencer laughs an honest-to-God laugh. Ryan pulls away from the phone to make sure he’s still connected to the right person. “I guess it’s time we told you. I’m dating Dallon, yeah, but I’m also dating Brendon.”
“What?” Ryan says. It’s all he can say.
“We’re kind of all dating each other,” Spencer explains. “So it’s okay if Brendon kisses Dallon because they’re together and they’re both with me, too. I know it’s weird, but - ”
“How the hell did that happen?”
“You want the nitty-gritty details?” Spencer asks, clearly amused.
“I want to know how my best friend managed to be in a relationship with two people and nobody noticed.”
“I was with Brendon first,” Spencer says. “After the split and while you were in the hospital, it just happened. I’d been waiting for it to happen. As for Dallon … he just - we like him and he likes us. It’s easy. It all fell into place, you know?”
Ryan does know. It sounds like what happened with him and Jon, but Spencer’s was easier. It’s weird to think that both of his old friends are dating this new person, but they’re happy. If they can make it work, then it doesn’t bother Ryan.
“Ryan?” Spencer asks.
“Yeah, I’m here. I’m … I’m happy for you.”
“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t notice how obviously in love Dallon and Brendon are. He’s shit at being subtle.”
“Yeah, well, you suck at being quiet when you’re hooking up with your secret boyfriend.”
Spencer laughs. “Well, you just suck in general. I have to go, Ryan, but be safe, alright? I’ll call you later.” Ryan nods before he realizes that Spencer can’t see him.
“Okay, Spence. I’ll talk to you later.”
They hang up. Ryan fiddles with his phone. It’s been ten minutes since Jon went inside his home. Ryan doesn’t think Jon’s the type to leave Ryan out in the car as he hooks back up with his ex-girlfriend, but you never know. He feels stuck out here in the car. He won’t go inside and he won’t text Jon, so he’ll sit and wait for Jon to come back.
Finally, as though Ryan summoned him with his mind, Jon steps outside the door with two cat carriers in his hands. The front door shuts behind him as Jon walks with his cats to the car. He doesn’t look happy or unhappy. His mouth is moving - the closer he comes to the car, Ryan realizes that Jon is talking to his cats, probably comforting them as he jostles them about in the rain.
Jon comes to the car and sets one of the carriers down on the driveway as he opens the back door. As soon as Jon opens it the door Ryan can hear the pitiful meows of Jon’s cats. He sets one of the carriers in the backseat and then picks up the other from the ground. He puts that one in the car, as well.
“They hate the rain,” Jon says when he’s back in the car, rain-dampened himself. His eyes looked pained, tired. Ryan wants to kiss him until he smiles again. “They also hate traveling.”
“They’ll get used to it,” Ryan says as he turns to look back at the cats huddled in their carriers, tiny faces and glowing eyes peering at Ryan with mistrust. “You saw Marley?”
“Yeah,” Jon says. His voice is tight. “Yeah, he missed me. He jumped on me right away. I hated leaving him behind.”
Ryan feels bad, like it’s his fault that Jon is so sad, that Jon has to give up a house and his pet and his Chicago friends. Ryan looks out the window and bites his lip when Jon’s cats start to mewl.
“Hey,” Jon says softly, reaching out to touch at the back of Ryan’s head. “Hey, don’t blame yourself. I chose this. I chose you.”
“You could have everything you wanted if it weren’t for me,” Ryan says. He won’t look at Jon. Jon’s hand doesn’t leave his hair.
“I do have what I want. I have you,” Jon says. Ryan turns to look at him, lip between his teeth. “I’m happy. Some situations are going to be sad, but I’m happy with you. I don’t regret it.”
“Okay,” Ryan says, relaxing. Jon’s hand falls away and he starts the car back up to take off. Jon’s cats cry in the backseat. Jon talks to them. “Clovergirl, Dylan, you guys are okay,” Jon coos at them. Ryan should find it ridiculous, but he doesn’t. He finds it charming.
“Jon, get this,” Ryan starts once they’re driving back to Tom’s place. “Spencer called while you were inside.”
Jon’s eyes widen. “Don’t tell me you told him what we saw.”
“Yeah, I did, but - ”
“Ryan, you really shouldn’t have. He was pissed, right?” Jon asks.
“No. In fact, he laughed.”
“He …laughed?”
“Yeah, I guess they’re in a polyamorous relationship or whatever. All three of them are dating.”
“I feel like we should have guessed that before jumping to the cheating conclusion,” Jon says with a laugh. Ryan laughs, too. It’s still raining when they get back to Tom’s apartment. The cats are still upset, and Ryan holds the door open for Jon so he never has to set one of them down. He feels a little like a new parent bringing home their kids from the hospital for the first time. He hopes Jon’s cats like him.
Jon sets the carriers in the middle of the living room and opens them up before sinking to his knees in front of the cages, coaxing his cats out of their carriers. Dylan comes out first, rubbing his head on Jon’s hand and then peering around the living room like he knows this place isn’t his home. Clover won’t come out of her carrier even after Jon’s little “Come on, Clover.”
Ryan goes and pulls on Jon’s hoodie before sitting on the couch while Jon tries in vain to win over Clover.
“She’s stubborn,” Ryan says. Jon laughs and nods.
“She probably hates me right now.”
Dylan, though, seems to have warmed up to the place and to Ryan without Ryan doing much of anything. Dylan saunters to the couch and decides that Ryan’s lap is where he wants to lay, plopping his warm, furry body across Ryan’s lap. Ryan pets him, running his fingers over Dylan’s ears and under his chin. Jon watches from the floor, grinning, and eventually gives up on forcing Clover to come out. Instead, he goes to sit with Ryan on the couch. Dylan takes note and slinks from Ryan’s lap to Jon’s.
***
It’s still raining when Ryan wakes up on their third day in Chicago. Jon isn’t in bed, but Ryan does feel a warm, if furry, body sidled up to his ribcage. Ryan wakes up and looks down at Dylan, who’s lying next to Ryan’s side in the space where Ryan’s right arm would be, his head nuzzling against Ryan’s stump. Dylan had been attached to Ryan since they got back to Tom’s place, and though Clover eventually did come out of the carrier, she wants little to nothing to do with Ryan or Tom’s apartment. She spends most of her time hiding under tables or the bathroom or circling around Jon’s ankles.
Ryan reaches over to pet Dylan’s head, his fingers clumsy with sleep. He smells coffee and laughs softly when Dylan licks at Ryan’s fingertips. He stretches in the guest bed and listens for the sound of Jon padding around the wood floors of the apartment. Ryan doesn’t go searching for Jon; instead, he waits until he hears the sound of footsteps approaching the guest room. The smell of coffee is stronger than ever.
“Dylan has taken a shine to you,” Jon says. Ryan looks up at Jon and smiles lazily. “You should get up. I called Andy and he wants to see us.”
Ryan hums. He’s excited to see Andy, but he’s scared, too. Andy was Jon’s friend growing up and he’s the one who brought Andy into the Young Veins, but he and Ryan grew close over tour and Andy was the second person to be hurt the worst in the crash, having to be confined to a wheelchair and crutches. What if Andy is angry at Ryan? Angry at Jon? What if he blames them?
Ryan gets up anyway. Dylan rolls into the empty spot Ryan left behind, yawning and stretching. Ryan goes to Jon and greets him with a kiss, Jon’s mouth tasting like coffee. “Does it ever stop raining in Chicago?” Ryan asks sleepily.
“The news said tomorrow is supposed to be sunny,” Jon says. Ryan smiles against Jon’s mouth. He feels like he could fall back to sleep again. “Go get some coffee,” Jon tells him.
An hour later, they’re on the road to Andy’s apartment. It’s still raining, so Jon and Ryan stand under their umbrella outside of Andy’s apartment while they wait for him to buzz them up. When they do get upstairs, the door is open and Andy is waiting for them in his wheelchair.
“This rain is shit, isn’t it? I bet L.A. is a lot nicer,” Andy says with a smile. Jon laughs while Ryan smiles uncomfortably. He’s not sure why he’s uncomfortable - maybe because the two of them are hurt, both so obviously injured that they mirror each other. Andy can’t use his left leg and Ryan is obviously unable to use his right arm. Jon closes the door behind them and sets the umbrella in the rack by the door before stooping down to hug Andy.
“Too hot,” Jon tells Andy. Andy pats Jon on the back before Jon pulls away.
Andy focuses on Ryan. “It’s good to see you up and around,” he says.
“Same for you,” Ryan says before he regrets his choice of words. Andy isn’t exactly up and moving. He laughs, though. Ryan hasn’t seen Andy since before the crash. He wasn’t conscious when Andy made the decision to be transferred to a Chicago-area hospital to heal up - the same decision Jon had turned down, instead staying in the L.A. hospital to be closer to Ryan - and he was already gone by the time Ryan did wake up and realize everything that had happened. “I mean, I’m glad to see you’re doing so well.”
“Yeah. Physical therapy is a bitch, but I don’t have to tell you that.” Andy rolls his hair back, maneuvering easily. “You guys want something to drink? I got beers in the fridge.”
“I can’t drink anymore,” Ryan says.
“I got some weed if you’d rather smoke up?” Andy asks with a grin. Ryan is surprised at his demeanor. He expected Andy to be hardened and angry, but he’s happy and dealing with his shit. Of course, Ryan doesn’t know what Andy acts like every other day, but he’s glad Andy is happy.
The three of them sit in Andy’s tiny living room while Andy digs around a wooden box he has sitting under the coffee table. “My girlfriend hates that I leave this out here,” Andy says with a laugh as he sets the box with his paraphernalia on his lap. Andy rolls up a joint with familiar speed and they take turns passing it around.
“You guys realize that our album is coming out in like two weeks?” Andy asks around his hit. He exhales carefully and leans forward to pass the joint to Jon. Ryan freezes up next to Jon. Shit. Shit, no, he hadn’t remembered that at all. The tour they were on was the tour to promote their upcoming album. The plan was to tour again a month or so after the album was out. After the accident and Jon and traveling to Chicago, though, the schedule had slipped his mind. Their album is coming out soon - the label decided not to move the date - and they’re not even a band anymore. It’s laughable, really, and it pisses Ryan off. He wasn’t done. He didn’t even get to play all the songs on the album live for a crowd.
“Uh,” Jon starts. “No, we did forget. I - wow, already, huh?” Jon sounds more awed than upset.
“I thought maybe the label would still want us to do press or something, but I haven’t heard anything,” Andy says. He seems calm about it, probably because he didn’t record the album. It’s not his work on it, so it doesn’t hurt as much, or maybe he’s just made peace with the world and the situation. Ryan hasn’t, though. “I mean, they’d probably ask you two first, but they haven’t, have they?”
“Hey, let’s talk about something else,” Jon suggest, sparing a glance at Ryan, who won’t look up from the joint burning down in his fingers. He takes a hit as Andy seems to catch what Jon is saying.
“Oh! Oh, right, yeah.” Ryan leans forward to pass the joint to Andy. He won’t meet Andy’s eyes. “Hey, Ryan, I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject. I just - ”
“It’s cool,” Ryan says quickly, trying to close the subject. The room grows silent, and from inside Andy’s apartment, you can’t even hear the rain. Ryan scratches at his throat, uncomfortable. He forgot about the album and now soon the spotlight will be turned back on his band, on the accident, and he’ll be in focus again. They’ll talk about what happened to him and how he dropped off the face of the earth. Ryan doesn’t want that. He’s never minded attention, even negative attention, but he just wants to fade for now. He wants to be forgotten. He doesn’t want the Young Veins to be ‘the band that got in that accident’ and he doesn’t want to be the lead singer who lost an arm. He wanted the music to speak for itself.
Jon changes the subject, but Ryan’s too caught up in his own head to pay attention. He’s scared of the impending eye turned on them. He hates that he’s scared. He should be happy about the album’s release, that at least they have an album to show what they accomplished together, but Ryan doesn’t want phone calls asking for interviews and he doesn’t want to release a statement. Fuck, at this point, he doesn’t even want to know what the fans are going to say about the album.
The more they smoke, the more Ryan, at least for the moment, is able to forget his anger. Jon talks with Andy about how his life has been since the accident. Andy’s just been living here with his girlfriend, who’s been helping him with his therapy and doing computer work on the side. Andy’s fallen back into his old life with no troubles. Ryan sort of envies that. His old life is impossible to return to. He feels like someone hit the fast forward button and now he’s twenty-three, starting all over again.
The whole conversation leaves him feeling tired despite getting more than enough sleep back at Tom’s place. Jon notices and nudges Ryan’s shoulder with his own, Ryan leans into Jon’s touch. It’s nothing, but at the same time, it’s everything. “I think we’re gonna take off, Andy,” Jon says. “Ryan gets kind of out of it after he takes his meds.” It’s a lie because Ryan hasn’t taken his meds yet today and he feels fine, but he really wants to get out of Andy’s apartment, so he’s grateful for Jon’s lie.
“Okay,” Andy says carefully. Ryan doesn’t think he knows they’re lying, but he thinks that Andy knows he said the wrong thing. It was bound to happen sooner or later. It’s better that they were reminded of it a few weeks prior to the release date. “You guys should stop in before you leave the city,” Andy tells them as Jon gives him a hug. Jon nods.
“You bet we will.”
Ryan also hugs Andy despite their minor conflict. He’s still glad Andy’s alive and here.
***
“You okay?” Jon asks on the way to Tom’s place.
Ryan shrugs. “It pisses me off that we finished before we even really started. We were on hiatus before the album even got out.”
Jon remains silent, but he nods. Ryan sighs irritably.
“I’ll field any press if they want us to do some. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, if you’re not ready yet,” Jon says. Ryan knows Jon doesn’t like press shit either. Ryan presses the heel of his hand to each of his eyes, working away the headache that’s sprouting there.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do anything,” Ryan says. “Let it pass by without a word. You could tweet about it, maybe, but no official stuff? Fuck, I don’t know, Jon.” Ryan chews on his lip and rests his head against the back of his seat.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. We’ll take it as it comes. We’ll figure out what to do when it gets here.”
Ryan nods and keeps his eyes closed the rest of the ride, his stomach tight and rolling with stress.
Part seven