Positive (Chapter 5)
Title: Positive
Author: xojemmaxo
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: RyWalk, possible others
POV: Third
Summary: On his walk to work, Ryan feels a lot like eating coconut sorbet, like he had once on a date with an old boyfriend at a Greek restaurant. He hadn't liked the coconut sorbet then, but he sure as hell wants it now.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Young Veins, Panic! at the Disco, My Chemical Romance, or any of their respective members. I also do not own Jon Walker's cat.
Beta: hooray4irony
Author Notes: ... And the cravings have begun. *rubs hands together evilly* Comments make me go :DDDDDD
Jon doesn't speak about the incident the night before when they wake up, and Ryan's not keen to bring the topic up. He's perfectly fine to never speak of it again. He doesn't want to see Jon angry like that again, anyway.
Ryan gets into the shower at 7:30am. He's a little stiff from Jon's carelessness last night, and winces as he steps under the water, rubbing his thigh. Ryan thinks he pulled a muscle. He's reaching for the shampoo bottle (he hasn't washed his hair in about three days, and it's starting to get a little gross) when he hears the bathroom door open and close, and feels Jon slide into the shower behind him.
"Good morning," he says, and Ryan grunts in return. He's not going to bring it up, but he's pissy at Jon for hurting him last night.
There's a beat of silence, broken by the water slapping against the shower floor, then Jon's slippery hands are suddenly trailing over Ryan's hunched back, dancing upwards until they reach his shoulders and resting there for a moment before sliding down Ryan's arms with the drops of water.
"I'm sorry," Jon says simply, and apparently the shower is a great place to bring up awkward topics. Ryan knows Jon's apologizing for everything. He knows Jon won't do it again, because he's a man of his word and he's also pretty awesome, even though he obviously doesn't know how the fuck to use a condom.
"It's okay," says Ryan, and smiles a little when Jon moves closer, slipping his arms around Ryan's waist and tucking his face into Ryan's neck and just hangs on. Ryan can feel Jon's dick pressing into his lower back, and it seems pretty eager, but Ryan's glad Jon doesn't propose a quick fuck. It's almost like he knows how sore Ryan is.
"Do you feel sick today?" asks Jon, taking his face away from Ryan's skin for a moment to speak.
"No," replies Ryan, although he does feel kind of queasy and it took him a few goes today to get out of bed without lurching into his wardrobe, and right now he's pining away for a cigarette he knows he can't fucking have.
"You gonna go to work?"
"Have to go to work," Ryan says wryly, leaning back into Jon, who leans against the wall so they're mostly out of the jet of water. "How else will I pay for my apartment?" he asks as he drops his head onto Jon's shoulder.
"Well."
"Well, what?"
"I kind of want to talk to you about your apartment after work today."
"What do you mean?" asks Ryan, bemused.
"After work." Jon's voice is teasing and Ryan hates him but loves him a little bit too and he doesn't know whether to turn around and kiss Jon or just reach back and pinch his nipple really hard. The latter seems the most fun, but Ryan does neither.
"Okay, then," he says. "After work." Ryan's content to let the 'apartment thing' be for the moment. He closes his eyes in contentment as Jon starts to kiss his neck a little.
His hands run down from around Ryan's chest to his stomach. "You're getting a bump," he mumbles near Ryan's ear, and Ryan can hear the stupid grin in his voice. His eyes snap open and he looks down in horror at his stomach and... it's not as bad as it sounds. There is a little bump, but it just looks like Ryan recently had a big meal. He tries to pull in his stomach, but it just... won't.
"Great," he says sullenly. "I'm getting fat."
"Ryan, you're pregnant. I think it's normal," says Jon, and he's still grinning, Ryan can tell.
"I hate it," Ryan says stubbornly. He crosses his arms so the bump is hidden from sight, but Jon pulls his arms away and cradles the bump in his hands, rubbing Ryan's hips with his thumbs and Ryan melts a little because that feels so, so good.
The water turns cold a little while after Jon finishes washing Ryan's hair for him, Ryan leaning forwards onto the wall of the shower and feeling the cool glass in contrast to the hot water. They reluctantly get out when it's an unbearable temperature and share a towel to dry off (although Jon steals it from Ryan more than is necessary). Ryan gets dressed in his room; Jon gets into the clothes that he had previously discarded on the bathroom floor and in the hallway.
Ryan refuses the coffee Jon offers him, instead choosing to scarf down two pieces of toast for breakfast. He doesn't feel like coffee for the first morning in at least three years. In fact, he feels like he might be sick if he drinks coffee; the smell alone of Jon's steaming cup filling the kitchen makes him feel even more queasy than he did waking up. He tells himself it's nothing, though, and kisses Jon goodbye (it's a long goodbye) on his way out the door, and things feel almost normal for a moment, like they were before this whole mess.
On his walk to work, Ryan feels a lot like eating coconut sorbet, like he had once on a date with an old boyfriend at a Greek restaurant. He hadn't liked the coconut sorbet then, but he sure as hell wants it now. He frowns and makes a mental note to pick some up on the way home.
He's not late for work, despite the prolonged shower with Jon. Well, he's only a couple of minutes late, but Frank's an awesome enough boss that he just lets it slide. The smell of coffee when Ryan walks into the door hits him in the face like a fist; he almost pukes into the bin beside the doorway, but regains himself and wonders why he suddenly hates the smell of his once favourite drink.
"Are you okay?" Frank asks Ryan in way of a greeting when he spots Ryan tying his apron around his waist behind the counter.
"Hmm? Oh, I'm fine," says Ryan. He draws in a breath through his mouth and tastes coffee on his tongue, and swallows several times to get rid of the taste.
"No, no, I mean yesterday, when you called in sick. Well, your boyfriend called you in sick. I was worried that you had, like, a zombie mutant death plague and you were too busy frothing at the mouth and attacking innocent civilians to call in for yourself," says Frank.
"You've been reading Gee's comic strips again, haven't you," states Ryan, as he finishes tying his apron and grabs a cloth to wipe up coffee that some new kid just spilled all over the counter.
"Well. Yeah," admits Frank. "But I was really worried about you, dude. You know I care about my employees."
Ryan adds another very to his 'Why Frank is Very, Very Awesome List'.
"Oh, no, I was fine," he says. " I was just throwing up a little." (Well, a lot.)
"Oh, okay. Well, I hope you feel better today. You know you can take a day off if you need to anytime, don't you? I'm not a dickhead boss, I'll let you have a day off every once in a while, okay?" says Frank, still sounding like he's worried for Ryan's health.
"I know," says Ryan, and smiles at Frank reassuringly. "Thanks, Frank." Frank bobs his head and ducks into the back room, where Gerard is probably waiting for him.
Ryan progressively feels worse as the day goes on. The smell of the coffee is absolutely disgusting; he doesn't know how he ever drank the stuff. He sneaks out the back of the shop during his ten minute break and looks around shiftily before pulling out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. He pulls one from the box and lights it, stuffing the lighter away back in his pocket as he brings the thing that has been missing from his hand for the last 24 hours to his lips and inhales the smoke, welcoming it into his lungs and exhaling it with a deep, contented sigh. He looks down at the box he's twisting between his long fingers and sees the warning on the side. It says 'SMOKING WHILE PREGNANT CAN HARM YOUR BABY'.
Ryan blows out the rest of the smoke as he reads the words. He reads them three times, then looks under them to see the picture of a tiny, red blob in one of those hospital cots hooked up to machines. He raises his eyebrows. He really needs to stop smoking.
Ryan finishes the cigarette, just one won't hurt, and examines the five that are left in the packet. He's not going to quit, no way. He'll have one cigarette each day. No, two. That's better than the amount he usually smokes, when he can be bothered to, anyway. Jon just won't find out, Ryan will make sure, and what's a little smoke going to do to the fetus, anyway? It'll be fine. Reassured, Ryan goes back to work, coughing a little as he re-enters the building.
Work is eventful. Gee decides to help out and mop the floors when Ryan's nearly at the end of his shift, but gets distracted halfway through and leaves the floor soaking wet with a mop in the small hallway leading to the toilets. Six customers trip over the mop before Gee goes back to mopping, and six angry customers are assaulting Frank by the time Ryan leaves. He breathes the fresh air (Sort of fresh, anyway) in the street and starts to walk home, ignoring the squirmy feeling in his stomach. On the way he stops at a grocery store and buys a tub of coconut sorbet.
Jon's waiting for Ryan at his apartment again, sitting on the couch and watching tv in a loose pair of jeans and an old jumper. He has one sock on. He looks up and turns the tv off when Ryan walks in the door and Ryan feels instantly nervous, like Jon's going to deliver bad news.
"Hi," he says, though it comes out like a question, and shuts the door before standing awkwardly in the kitchen. Jon pats the space beside him on the couch and Ryan moves to sit down, putting his sorbet on the kitchen table before he enters the tiny living room. He sits half on Jon and half on the couch.
"Hey," says Jon.
Ryan doesn't reply. He wants to know what Jon wants to tell him about the apartment. Maybe there's a serious rat problem, and Jon found one in his cereal that morning. Or something.
"So, um. I wanted to talk to you about the apartment," says Jon, and he doesn't sound angry or anything, like one might be after finding a rat in their cornflakes. Ryan relaxes a bit against Jon's side. "You know I've been mostly living here for the past few weeks."
Ryan has an idea what Jon wants to talk about now.
"And I was thinking it wouldn't be much of a change if I just... moved in." Jon isn't the most subtle person ever.
Ryan was expecting it, but he still doesn't have a reply. He stares at the mothering books, left on the carpet half under the couch, and toes at one while he thinks of the pros and cons of Jon moving in.
He's silent for so long that Jon starts to fidget beside him, a nervous habit.
"I don't know," Ryan says finally. He looks sideways at Jon. "I like my space. And it's a small apartment."
"I know," says Jon, nodding vigorously. "But if I move out of my old apartment, we'd be saving so much money! We need money, Ryan. I'm hardly earning enough to pay rent as it is, and neither are you. We're never going to afford baby stuff if we don't start saving now."
Ryan sighs. "Will your cat be moving in too?"
"Of course," says Jon, in mock horror. "Clover is awesome. She won't be much trouble, Ry. She could sleep in the laundry."
Ryan sighs again. His apartment feels too small for him, Jon, a cat, and a child as well.
"You know we're just going to have to move out when the fetus comes," he warns Jon.
"That's more incentive for us to start saving, then," says Jon rather triumphantly; he has Ryan practically cornered.
Ryan sighs again, long and melodramatic. "Okay, then," he agrees. "You can move in."
"Okay. Thank you," says Jon, and hugs Ryan from behind. Ryan has a sudden pang for the sorbet and wishes it were closer than the kitchen table.
"When are you moving in?" asks Ryan, in a resigned voice.
"Um. I don't know. It'll be hard to move all my stuff in, since there's only two of us and one car. And you're pregnant."
"Yeah, I shouldn't have to do anything," says Ryan. "I'm exhausted already."
Jon makes a pfft noise against Ryan's hair. "You've hardly even got a bump," he says.
"It's a heavy bump," defends Ryan, and flails his arm out to hit Jon on the shoulder. It doesn't hurt much, apparently, because Jon only snorts with laughter.
"I think I can get my friend Brendon to help," muses Jon, once Ryan has stopped trying to maim him.
"Brendon?" asks Ryan. He's met Brendon once, at one of Jon's company Christmas parties. He was a short, enthusiastic, loud guy, and that night he ended up getting drunk and dancing on one of the desks while singing a rendition of 'Eye of the Tiger'. It wasn't half bad, either.
"Yeah, the guy from work," says Jon.
"Does he have a car?" asks Ryan.
"Yeah, I think so. And he hasn't crashed it or gotten a speeding ticket, either," he adds, when he sees Ryan's sceptical look.
"Okay." Ryan thinks. "I might be able to get Spencer to fly down from New York. He won't be able to bring his car, but it's an extra set of hands." They need all the help they can get, after all; Jon's got about four years of crap stored in his tiny apartment. Ryan will make him throw at least three quarters of it out.
"You totally just want to see Spencer," says Jon, and pokes Ryan in the side.
"Well, that too." Ryan gets up off the couch (and Jon) and gets his sorbet off the kitchen table. He grabs a relatively clean spoon out of the sink, wipes it on his shirt, and sits down again in Jon's lap.
"What's that?" asks Jon. "Ice cream?"
"No. Sorbet. Coconut. Mine," says Ryan, who's too busy trying to get the lid off to actually speak in sentences.
There's a pause. "I didn't think you liked coconut," says Jon.
"I don't," says Ryan.
"Oh," says Jon. "Then why are you eating that?"
"I don't know," shrugs Ryan. "Coconut is irresistible."
"O...kay..." says Jon, as Ryan finally gets the lid off and scoops massive amounts of sorbet into his mouth.
"I think you might be getting cravings," says Jon. He fishes one of the books out from under the couch and flicks through it. It's the one titled What to Expect When You're Expecting. Jon finds the page he wants and mumbles through it until he finds what he's looking for and tells Ryan, "At approximately six weeks into your pregnancy, you may experience cravings. These can be an intense want for a food you like, don't like, or even food that you've never tasted before."
"Fantastic," mumbles Ryan through a mouthful of sorbet. He's wishing he bought a bigger tub; this one's starting to look half empty instead of half full.
"At the same time," continues Jon, "You may find you have an aversion towards the smell or taste of food or aromas you normally find pleasing. The smell of coffee is a common example."
"Oh, hey," says Ryan. "The smell of the coffee shop today nearly made me throw up; do you think that might be why?"
"Probably," agrees Jon.
"Fantastic," says Ryan again. "What if it gets worse and I can't work there any more?"
"Frank will give you sick leave or something, don't worry," Jon tells him. "Frank's pretty awesome."
"Yeah, he is," says Ryan. "He told me he'll give me days off whenever I like this morning because he was worried about me."
"See, there you go," says Jon easily. "It'll be fine, don't worry."
Ryan doesn't reply, only eats another few spoonfuls of sorbet. Jon takes this as a sign that he should continue reading to Ryan all about the joys of pregnancy, until Ryan begs him to stop and locks himself, the sorbet, and the Chuck Palahnuik book in his bedroom. Jon yells through the door that he's going to keep reading the baby books and quote lines from it at Ryan during the pregnancy, he promises. Ryan comes out and hides the baby books in the top of his closet, but Jon catches him and takes his sorbet away and Ryan bellows like a wild bull and tackles Jon in the lounge room and he, Jon, and the sorbet kind of end up making out on the couch, which is their dinner. Ryan sleepily makes Jon promise he'll buy more sorbet tomorrow before he drifts off.
Author: xojemmaxo
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: RyWalk, possible others
POV: Third
Summary: On his walk to work, Ryan feels a lot like eating coconut sorbet, like he had once on a date with an old boyfriend at a Greek restaurant. He hadn't liked the coconut sorbet then, but he sure as hell wants it now.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Young Veins, Panic! at the Disco, My Chemical Romance, or any of their respective members. I also do not own Jon Walker's cat.
Beta: hooray4irony
Author Notes: ... And the cravings have begun. *rubs hands together evilly* Comments make me go :DDDDDD
Jon doesn't speak about the incident the night before when they wake up, and Ryan's not keen to bring the topic up. He's perfectly fine to never speak of it again. He doesn't want to see Jon angry like that again, anyway.
Ryan gets into the shower at 7:30am. He's a little stiff from Jon's carelessness last night, and winces as he steps under the water, rubbing his thigh. Ryan thinks he pulled a muscle. He's reaching for the shampoo bottle (he hasn't washed his hair in about three days, and it's starting to get a little gross) when he hears the bathroom door open and close, and feels Jon slide into the shower behind him.
"Good morning," he says, and Ryan grunts in return. He's not going to bring it up, but he's pissy at Jon for hurting him last night.
There's a beat of silence, broken by the water slapping against the shower floor, then Jon's slippery hands are suddenly trailing over Ryan's hunched back, dancing upwards until they reach his shoulders and resting there for a moment before sliding down Ryan's arms with the drops of water.
"I'm sorry," Jon says simply, and apparently the shower is a great place to bring up awkward topics. Ryan knows Jon's apologizing for everything. He knows Jon won't do it again, because he's a man of his word and he's also pretty awesome, even though he obviously doesn't know how the fuck to use a condom.
"It's okay," says Ryan, and smiles a little when Jon moves closer, slipping his arms around Ryan's waist and tucking his face into Ryan's neck and just hangs on. Ryan can feel Jon's dick pressing into his lower back, and it seems pretty eager, but Ryan's glad Jon doesn't propose a quick fuck. It's almost like he knows how sore Ryan is.
"Do you feel sick today?" asks Jon, taking his face away from Ryan's skin for a moment to speak.
"No," replies Ryan, although he does feel kind of queasy and it took him a few goes today to get out of bed without lurching into his wardrobe, and right now he's pining away for a cigarette he knows he can't fucking have.
"You gonna go to work?"
"Have to go to work," Ryan says wryly, leaning back into Jon, who leans against the wall so they're mostly out of the jet of water. "How else will I pay for my apartment?" he asks as he drops his head onto Jon's shoulder.
"Well."
"Well, what?"
"I kind of want to talk to you about your apartment after work today."
"What do you mean?" asks Ryan, bemused.
"After work." Jon's voice is teasing and Ryan hates him but loves him a little bit too and he doesn't know whether to turn around and kiss Jon or just reach back and pinch his nipple really hard. The latter seems the most fun, but Ryan does neither.
"Okay, then," he says. "After work." Ryan's content to let the 'apartment thing' be for the moment. He closes his eyes in contentment as Jon starts to kiss his neck a little.
His hands run down from around Ryan's chest to his stomach. "You're getting a bump," he mumbles near Ryan's ear, and Ryan can hear the stupid grin in his voice. His eyes snap open and he looks down in horror at his stomach and... it's not as bad as it sounds. There is a little bump, but it just looks like Ryan recently had a big meal. He tries to pull in his stomach, but it just... won't.
"Great," he says sullenly. "I'm getting fat."
"Ryan, you're pregnant. I think it's normal," says Jon, and he's still grinning, Ryan can tell.
"I hate it," Ryan says stubbornly. He crosses his arms so the bump is hidden from sight, but Jon pulls his arms away and cradles the bump in his hands, rubbing Ryan's hips with his thumbs and Ryan melts a little because that feels so, so good.
The water turns cold a little while after Jon finishes washing Ryan's hair for him, Ryan leaning forwards onto the wall of the shower and feeling the cool glass in contrast to the hot water. They reluctantly get out when it's an unbearable temperature and share a towel to dry off (although Jon steals it from Ryan more than is necessary). Ryan gets dressed in his room; Jon gets into the clothes that he had previously discarded on the bathroom floor and in the hallway.
Ryan refuses the coffee Jon offers him, instead choosing to scarf down two pieces of toast for breakfast. He doesn't feel like coffee for the first morning in at least three years. In fact, he feels like he might be sick if he drinks coffee; the smell alone of Jon's steaming cup filling the kitchen makes him feel even more queasy than he did waking up. He tells himself it's nothing, though, and kisses Jon goodbye (it's a long goodbye) on his way out the door, and things feel almost normal for a moment, like they were before this whole mess.
On his walk to work, Ryan feels a lot like eating coconut sorbet, like he had once on a date with an old boyfriend at a Greek restaurant. He hadn't liked the coconut sorbet then, but he sure as hell wants it now. He frowns and makes a mental note to pick some up on the way home.
He's not late for work, despite the prolonged shower with Jon. Well, he's only a couple of minutes late, but Frank's an awesome enough boss that he just lets it slide. The smell of coffee when Ryan walks into the door hits him in the face like a fist; he almost pukes into the bin beside the doorway, but regains himself and wonders why he suddenly hates the smell of his once favourite drink.
"Are you okay?" Frank asks Ryan in way of a greeting when he spots Ryan tying his apron around his waist behind the counter.
"Hmm? Oh, I'm fine," says Ryan. He draws in a breath through his mouth and tastes coffee on his tongue, and swallows several times to get rid of the taste.
"No, no, I mean yesterday, when you called in sick. Well, your boyfriend called you in sick. I was worried that you had, like, a zombie mutant death plague and you were too busy frothing at the mouth and attacking innocent civilians to call in for yourself," says Frank.
"You've been reading Gee's comic strips again, haven't you," states Ryan, as he finishes tying his apron and grabs a cloth to wipe up coffee that some new kid just spilled all over the counter.
"Well. Yeah," admits Frank. "But I was really worried about you, dude. You know I care about my employees."
Ryan adds another very to his 'Why Frank is Very, Very Awesome List'.
"Oh, no, I was fine," he says. " I was just throwing up a little." (Well, a lot.)
"Oh, okay. Well, I hope you feel better today. You know you can take a day off if you need to anytime, don't you? I'm not a dickhead boss, I'll let you have a day off every once in a while, okay?" says Frank, still sounding like he's worried for Ryan's health.
"I know," says Ryan, and smiles at Frank reassuringly. "Thanks, Frank." Frank bobs his head and ducks into the back room, where Gerard is probably waiting for him.
Ryan progressively feels worse as the day goes on. The smell of the coffee is absolutely disgusting; he doesn't know how he ever drank the stuff. He sneaks out the back of the shop during his ten minute break and looks around shiftily before pulling out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. He pulls one from the box and lights it, stuffing the lighter away back in his pocket as he brings the thing that has been missing from his hand for the last 24 hours to his lips and inhales the smoke, welcoming it into his lungs and exhaling it with a deep, contented sigh. He looks down at the box he's twisting between his long fingers and sees the warning on the side. It says 'SMOKING WHILE PREGNANT CAN HARM YOUR BABY'.
Ryan blows out the rest of the smoke as he reads the words. He reads them three times, then looks under them to see the picture of a tiny, red blob in one of those hospital cots hooked up to machines. He raises his eyebrows. He really needs to stop smoking.
Ryan finishes the cigarette, just one won't hurt, and examines the five that are left in the packet. He's not going to quit, no way. He'll have one cigarette each day. No, two. That's better than the amount he usually smokes, when he can be bothered to, anyway. Jon just won't find out, Ryan will make sure, and what's a little smoke going to do to the fetus, anyway? It'll be fine. Reassured, Ryan goes back to work, coughing a little as he re-enters the building.
Work is eventful. Gee decides to help out and mop the floors when Ryan's nearly at the end of his shift, but gets distracted halfway through and leaves the floor soaking wet with a mop in the small hallway leading to the toilets. Six customers trip over the mop before Gee goes back to mopping, and six angry customers are assaulting Frank by the time Ryan leaves. He breathes the fresh air (Sort of fresh, anyway) in the street and starts to walk home, ignoring the squirmy feeling in his stomach. On the way he stops at a grocery store and buys a tub of coconut sorbet.
Jon's waiting for Ryan at his apartment again, sitting on the couch and watching tv in a loose pair of jeans and an old jumper. He has one sock on. He looks up and turns the tv off when Ryan walks in the door and Ryan feels instantly nervous, like Jon's going to deliver bad news.
"Hi," he says, though it comes out like a question, and shuts the door before standing awkwardly in the kitchen. Jon pats the space beside him on the couch and Ryan moves to sit down, putting his sorbet on the kitchen table before he enters the tiny living room. He sits half on Jon and half on the couch.
"Hey," says Jon.
Ryan doesn't reply. He wants to know what Jon wants to tell him about the apartment. Maybe there's a serious rat problem, and Jon found one in his cereal that morning. Or something.
"So, um. I wanted to talk to you about the apartment," says Jon, and he doesn't sound angry or anything, like one might be after finding a rat in their cornflakes. Ryan relaxes a bit against Jon's side. "You know I've been mostly living here for the past few weeks."
Ryan has an idea what Jon wants to talk about now.
"And I was thinking it wouldn't be much of a change if I just... moved in." Jon isn't the most subtle person ever.
Ryan was expecting it, but he still doesn't have a reply. He stares at the mothering books, left on the carpet half under the couch, and toes at one while he thinks of the pros and cons of Jon moving in.
He's silent for so long that Jon starts to fidget beside him, a nervous habit.
"I don't know," Ryan says finally. He looks sideways at Jon. "I like my space. And it's a small apartment."
"I know," says Jon, nodding vigorously. "But if I move out of my old apartment, we'd be saving so much money! We need money, Ryan. I'm hardly earning enough to pay rent as it is, and neither are you. We're never going to afford baby stuff if we don't start saving now."
Ryan sighs. "Will your cat be moving in too?"
"Of course," says Jon, in mock horror. "Clover is awesome. She won't be much trouble, Ry. She could sleep in the laundry."
Ryan sighs again. His apartment feels too small for him, Jon, a cat, and a child as well.
"You know we're just going to have to move out when the fetus comes," he warns Jon.
"That's more incentive for us to start saving, then," says Jon rather triumphantly; he has Ryan practically cornered.
Ryan sighs again, long and melodramatic. "Okay, then," he agrees. "You can move in."
"Okay. Thank you," says Jon, and hugs Ryan from behind. Ryan has a sudden pang for the sorbet and wishes it were closer than the kitchen table.
"When are you moving in?" asks Ryan, in a resigned voice.
"Um. I don't know. It'll be hard to move all my stuff in, since there's only two of us and one car. And you're pregnant."
"Yeah, I shouldn't have to do anything," says Ryan. "I'm exhausted already."
Jon makes a pfft noise against Ryan's hair. "You've hardly even got a bump," he says.
"It's a heavy bump," defends Ryan, and flails his arm out to hit Jon on the shoulder. It doesn't hurt much, apparently, because Jon only snorts with laughter.
"I think I can get my friend Brendon to help," muses Jon, once Ryan has stopped trying to maim him.
"Brendon?" asks Ryan. He's met Brendon once, at one of Jon's company Christmas parties. He was a short, enthusiastic, loud guy, and that night he ended up getting drunk and dancing on one of the desks while singing a rendition of 'Eye of the Tiger'. It wasn't half bad, either.
"Yeah, the guy from work," says Jon.
"Does he have a car?" asks Ryan.
"Yeah, I think so. And he hasn't crashed it or gotten a speeding ticket, either," he adds, when he sees Ryan's sceptical look.
"Okay." Ryan thinks. "I might be able to get Spencer to fly down from New York. He won't be able to bring his car, but it's an extra set of hands." They need all the help they can get, after all; Jon's got about four years of crap stored in his tiny apartment. Ryan will make him throw at least three quarters of it out.
"You totally just want to see Spencer," says Jon, and pokes Ryan in the side.
"Well, that too." Ryan gets up off the couch (and Jon) and gets his sorbet off the kitchen table. He grabs a relatively clean spoon out of the sink, wipes it on his shirt, and sits down again in Jon's lap.
"What's that?" asks Jon. "Ice cream?"
"No. Sorbet. Coconut. Mine," says Ryan, who's too busy trying to get the lid off to actually speak in sentences.
There's a pause. "I didn't think you liked coconut," says Jon.
"I don't," says Ryan.
"Oh," says Jon. "Then why are you eating that?"
"I don't know," shrugs Ryan. "Coconut is irresistible."
"O...kay..." says Jon, as Ryan finally gets the lid off and scoops massive amounts of sorbet into his mouth.
"I think you might be getting cravings," says Jon. He fishes one of the books out from under the couch and flicks through it. It's the one titled What to Expect When You're Expecting. Jon finds the page he wants and mumbles through it until he finds what he's looking for and tells Ryan, "At approximately six weeks into your pregnancy, you may experience cravings. These can be an intense want for a food you like, don't like, or even food that you've never tasted before."
"Fantastic," mumbles Ryan through a mouthful of sorbet. He's wishing he bought a bigger tub; this one's starting to look half empty instead of half full.
"At the same time," continues Jon, "You may find you have an aversion towards the smell or taste of food or aromas you normally find pleasing. The smell of coffee is a common example."
"Oh, hey," says Ryan. "The smell of the coffee shop today nearly made me throw up; do you think that might be why?"
"Probably," agrees Jon.
"Fantastic," says Ryan again. "What if it gets worse and I can't work there any more?"
"Frank will give you sick leave or something, don't worry," Jon tells him. "Frank's pretty awesome."
"Yeah, he is," says Ryan. "He told me he'll give me days off whenever I like this morning because he was worried about me."
"See, there you go," says Jon easily. "It'll be fine, don't worry."
Ryan doesn't reply, only eats another few spoonfuls of sorbet. Jon takes this as a sign that he should continue reading to Ryan all about the joys of pregnancy, until Ryan begs him to stop and locks himself, the sorbet, and the Chuck Palahnuik book in his bedroom. Jon yells through the door that he's going to keep reading the baby books and quote lines from it at Ryan during the pregnancy, he promises. Ryan comes out and hides the baby books in the top of his closet, but Jon catches him and takes his sorbet away and Ryan bellows like a wild bull and tackles Jon in the lounge room and he, Jon, and the sorbet kind of end up making out on the couch, which is their dinner. Ryan sleepily makes Jon promise he'll buy more sorbet tomorrow before he drifts off.