Infinite, Sometimes

13

A loud buzz flooded Ryan's empty mind and slowly started to expose him to a gradually growing dose of reality. His eyes opened, vision blurry, and he was face to face with the wall as he laid on his side. Below his line of vision, a hand and arm stuck out from under his neck, and Ryan really wanted to know what was happening. He had enough control over his body to reach over and turn off his alarm but he was physically unable to move, prevented from lifting his arm or even turning himself over due to whatever was in contact with his body. He took a few more breaths with a feeling of urgency, and he wasn't confused for much longer as the events of the previous night flew up from his no longer dormant mind and hit him in the face. He felt slight movement behind him, against his body.

"Big button... on top, hit it." Ryan knew what he wanted to say, even if it came out jumbled and mixed with grogginess. He felt Brendon turn behind him, and there was a loss of pressure across his side and stomach in the moment before the alarm stopped screaming. As the pressure returned, Ryan opened his eyes wider and managed to see exactly what kept him from moving.

Ryan had no pillow under his head. Instead, his head was resting on Brendon's arm and there was something pressing against the back of his head that he could only imagine as Brendon's face. Preventing him from turning around was Brendon himself, his body pressed tightly against Ryan's from head to toe. But it's a small bed, Ryan thought, trying to justify the present situation. Ryan's eyes traveled down to his stomach to see Brendon's other arm wrapped tightly around him for the second time, after taking a small break to turn off the alarm clock. Ryan couldn't think of any excuses as to why the arm returned to his body after leaving, and his heart instantly took over. He felt a small tickle in his stomach that seemed to quickly travel to his chest, which would have made it ache had it not been for the warmth and security that he wanted to pretend he didn't feel. Trying to disguise his intentions with a small squirm and stretch, he lightly wrapped his fingers around two of Brendon's fingers and held both of their hands against his stomach. Ryan was pretty sure that there was nowhere else he would have rather been at that moment, and no matter what he tried to think of, he couldn't get this thought out of his head.

It took Brendon a few seconds to realize not only how he had woken up, but that he had returned to the same position after already moving once. He stopped breathing for a moment, completely motionless as he waited for Ryan to say something, but the boy was silent. He felt sick with embarrassment and the shame kept him from moving. Brendon hoped that remaining still would somehow erase the situation, although he knew that he didn't have that sort of luck. Instead of making himself look even worse he decided to lay still and wait for Ryan to push him off the bed or push his arms away.

"Brendon?"

"Mmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"I have no idea."

"It's okay."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"Do you want me to move now?"

Ryan had to exert a bit of control over his mind-mouth connection this time around. His actual wishes were far too awkward to properly, honestly answer his friend's question. "We... just... need to get ready for school." He immediately regretted the exclusion of words that he wanted to say and he tightened his grip on Brendon's fingers to try to convey what he had not said.

Brendon slowly pulled himself away and stood up. Ryan laid completely still and he could hear him quickly pulling on his jeans and tying his shoes, followed by silence. Ryan knew it was his turn. He wanted desperately to tell Brendon that he knew what he was feeling, that he felt exactly how Brendon was feeling at that moment, but it was this exact feeling that kept him from being able to look away from the floor as he stood up. He hurried to his closet and started sifting through shirts, settling on an old, worn polo shirt, mainly white with stripes of the most horrid pink and turquoise. Ugly enough to be one of his favorite shirts, and thin enough to throw his jacket over it and not feel like he was dressing in preparation for a snowstorm. He pretended to not feel eyes burning into his back as he quickly changed from his pajamas to his jeans and shirt. He turned around with a slight smile on his face and Brendon's hand went directly to the doorknob, fumbling with the lock, unable to get it to turn. Before his friend had a chance to worry, Ryan gently pushed his hand away and mastered the lock himself.