Called (Ryan Ross)

Capybara

I felt Ryan shaking my shoulder in an attempt to wake me up. I simply groaned, swatted his hand away, and buried my face deeper into his jacket. I felt him shift beneath me, arranging us to where his arms were underneath my knees and my neck, and he lifted me up. I could feel us moving, and heard the light sound of Ryan's footsteps. He pressed a kiss to my forehead before whispering:

"Hey, I have to get the keys out of my pocket. Would you mind standing momentarily so I can carry you on my back instead?" I started to groan, a protest to his proposition, but stopped, as he was nice enough to carry me instead of dumping me on my ass. I nodded slightly, yawning as I stepped my feet down, not opening my eyes. I heard Ryan unlock the front door, and he picked me up without hesitation, letting my arms drape over his shoulders, and I buried my face into the crook of his neck. It was late, around two thirty in the morning. After dinner, we had decided to go for a few drinks and see a movie. I didn't drink, and neither did Ryan, as he was driving, but we both had fun talking with our slightly tipsy friends. Ryan whispered to me once we had gotten into the house:

"Do you want me to take you up to your room and plop you down in bed?" I nodded sluggishly against his shoulder. He started moving again, me bouncing slightly from going up the steps. He kept his promise, and plopped me down in my bed. I shifted slightly, pulling the covers up to my chin and mumbled:

"You can stay, if you'd like, Ryan." There was a slight hesitation, probably him talking off his shoes, before I felt the bed next to me shift and I felt arms snake around my waist.

"Good night," I heard Ryan sleepily murmur as I turned around, facing him and scooting slightly closer before readily falling asleep.

---

I blinked, unhappy that my blinds hadn't been closed the night before, as sunlight now streamed through my room, falling on my face. I glanced at my clock. Ten thirty six. I suppose it was time to get up anyway. I glanced at Ryan, who was still sleeping, softly breathing. I smiled at the sight of my peaceful boyfriend, and decided to let him sleep a while longer. After all, he had lugged my fat butt inside and put me in the bed, so I suppose he deserves his sleep. I started to get up, but Ryan tightened his grip, groaning softly. I sighed, as I obviously wasn't going to get up now, as there was no way in hell I was waking this cutie. He was too precious when he slept. I shifted slightly and smiled at the sight of my sleepy boyfriend. We were face to face, and I took this time to fully examine him. He was stunning, absolutely beautiful. I had never felt this strongly about anyone before, not even Dustin, who I had admittedly had confused feelings about before. I say confused, because I was a young, hormonal teenagers at the time, so my feelings were possibly just because of the changes of my body. I lifted one of my face and pushed back some of his hair off his forehead. His eyes fluttered open, curious and brown. He whispered softly:

"Good morning." His voice was sleepy, husky in that way that only not speaking for twelve hours can make it be. I smiled and whispered the same greeting back to him. He looked at the time and groaned.

"It's too early to be up," he whined, pulling me closer. I laughed and murmured into his shoulder:

"Perhaps we could just lay here for a while then." He nodded, kissing my head lightly. We chatted softly, kissed, cuddled, for nearly the whole day. It was nauseatingly cute. I wasn't used to so much affection, but I could be. We finally got up around four thirty that afternoon, Ryan insisting that he was hungry and could focus until he got some food. So we got up, got dressed, and went downstairs, hunting through the pantry and fridge for whatever Dustin left in there. He did the grocery shopping. I tried it once, but I forgot half the list, because I couldn't read Dustin's terrible handwriting. So since that incident, he had taken up the job of grocery shopping. Ryan was bent over, looking in the freezer, (I was admiring the view, mind you,), when he suddenly let out a happy noise. He stood back upright, holding a bag of frozen chicken nuggets. I rolled my eyes.

"What are you, five?"

"Yeah, and thirteen more years," he replied snarkily, earning an eyebrow raise from me.

"Well, damn, I was gonna make your chicken nuggets, but if you want to be that way..." His eye widened.

"No, please, make my nuggets." I rolled my eyes.

"Nah." He pouted for a second before breaking into a wide grin. He walked over to me, putting the nuggets aside and started to kiss my neck. I rolled my eyes, not wavering.

"Not gonna work, Ross," I lied through my teeth. He knew that my neck and collar were my weak spots. He bit slightly on my collarbone, earning a shiver from me. I felt him smile against my shoulder as he worked his way up my neck, nipping at my earlobe as he did so. My body was stiff, as he whispered:

"Please?" I still shook my head. He pressed his fingertips harder into my hips as he continued kissing and nipping along my jawline. I wouldn't let this boy know that he had already won, that I was ready to melt into his embrace. I stood, rigid, as he went back down my neck, leaving what I assumed would be light bruises by tomorrow. I knew there was only one way to settle this. I quickly took two fistfuls of his jacket and took control of our current situation, pressing my lips hard against his. He made a sound of surprise, but it quickly turned to pleasure as I bit his lip lightly. I went immediately for his neck, using my teeth slightly to leave purple spots all the way down his neck to his collar. He would gasp everytime I moved to a new spot, kissing the not yet touched skin before nipping at it lightly. As I moved up his jawline, I whispered softly:

"Make your own damn nuggets." With that, I walked off, leaving him flustered and panting. I smirked to myself as I went back upstairs. He should have known I wouldn't give in so easily. But he was smart to assume that he was my weakness, because, as much as I hate to admit it, he was. I was so attatched to him, so attracted to him. I would do anything for him, and he knew that. He was one smart cookie, that was for sure. I could hear him downstairs, making his way towards the stairs and probably to find where I had headed off too. I laughed quietly to myself, heading towards the guest bedroom, where I assumed he wouldn't look until last.