I Love Him (A Ryden Fanfic) [FINISHED]

Guilty Pleasure

~Ryan's POV~

I still feel a little bit guilty about my dad. But it's for the better. I want to be with Brendon.

Brendon promised to protect me. And I have a feeling it isn't a loose promise- he's actually going to keep it.

Unlike my dad ever did.

Brendon and I are sitting silently on his bed. I can hear him breathing. It's so calming. I can smell him, too. Everyone has their own unique smell, and I can't quite describe his- but I like it. Very comforting.

I turn to look at Brendon. I look at his big, pale pink lips. I look at his magnified brown eyes in his dorky hipster glasses, which are already pretty big without them.

Brendon runs a hand through his black hair, but a part of it just falls right back into his eyes. He angles his lips upward and blows to get it out of the way, but it won't cooperate. I giggle.

Brendon turns to me and smiles a little bit. "What are you laughing at?"

I laugh and shake my head.

Brendon grabs my hand and I look into his smiling face. "Wanna get some ice cream or something?"

My face lights up. "Like a date?"

Brendon laughs his deep, sexy laugh. God, I wish I could just jump on him and rip his clothes off. But I don't.

"Yeah, like a date. Actually, not like a date. A date."

To anyone else that would've been confusing, but I completely knew what he meant.

Brendon takes my hand and we walk down the stairs. Brendon locks the door to his house and now we're walking over to his car.

Brendon does this cute little gallop-run thing so that he can get in front of me and open the door.

"After you, babe." He smiles and bows his head.

I giggle. "Why thank you, my kind sir." I reply as I get in the car.

Brendon shuts my door and scurries around to the other side of the car, and gets in. What a gentleman.

Brendon puts the key in the ignition and turns it. We begin driving down the street to the ice cream parlor.

"Can you drive a little slower, B?" I ask. It's not because I'm scared we'll crash or anything- I just haven't really gotten to see the neighborhood.

Brendon doesn't say anything in response, but I feel the car slow down slightly. I put my elbow on the inside of the door and rest my head in my hand.

We're sitting at a stop sign, and I hear a camera click and then Brendon giggle.

I turn around to him and smile. He's looking down at his phone with a smile.

"Can I see?" I ask.

Brendon nods and hands me his phone. It's actually a surprisingly good picture. "I'm making it my wallpaper." He declares.

I decide I'll take a cute picture of him at the ice cream parlor.

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Once Brendon and I get there, we sit in a little booth in the back corner for some privacy. Brendon orders a vanilla milkshake and I order a chocolate one.

When our drinks come, Brendon takes a long sip and then say, "you know, ice cream is my guilty pleasure."

I lean back and stir my milkshake with the red plastic straw a little bit. "Huh," I begin. "Wow, now I just feel stupid." I smile, and then put my head down to shake it.

Brendon lets out an awkward laugh. "Why?" He asks.

"We're talking about guilty pleasures, right?" I ask sheepishly.

Brendon nods.

I can feel my face become hot. I'm blushing. "Well, you're my guilty pleasure."

Brendon stands up a little bit and leans forward. I feel him point my chin up with his hand, and then he's kissing me.

He sits back down and I look into his eyes.

"I love you." He says quietly. His eyes look dreamy.

Barely any sound comes out of my mouth. "I love you, too."

"You wanna know my real guilty pleasure?" Brendon's laughing and smiling.

I laugh a little bit. "Sure."

"Sex with you."

I laugh and take the cherry off of my milkshake. I throw it at him playfully.

Brendon catches it and puts it in his mouth, but he doesn't bite into it.

"My little dorky Beebo." I can't help out laugh.

Brendon finishes the cherry in one bite, and then smiles at me. I can see his gloriously white teeth.

I smile back at him.

He grabs my hand, which is on the table.

"I love you." He says, but it's so quiet he's basically just mouthing.

"I love you, too." My voice is a whisper, but neither of us are ashamed of what we're saying. It's just more powerful when we're quiet. It's a phrase just for us, so why should anyone else hear it?