Ryden Oneshots

Moving Portraits of Two Boys

“I’m fine,” Ryan answered. “Don’t worry. Just get me some Tylenol.” He sat up to take the pills and then beckoned Brendon onto the bed, tucking himself under the other boy’s arm. “I can’t really remember my parents being married,” he said,” but I do remember this time I skinned my knee. I was, like, completely obsessed with Peter Pan at the time. I watched it everyday. So my mom told me that when little kids get hurt, the fairies kiss it better and that’s why it itches when it’s healing. Fairy kisses.” He tilted his head up to look at Brendon, smiling and planting a lightly kiss to his chin. 

He squeezed Ryan’s shoulder and reached for the remote. It wasn’t strange. Just a sign of affection between friends. It didn’t matter that they were both boys, that Ryan was gay and Brendon was straight. 

It wasn’t like he had a crush on Brendon. And it wasn’t like Brendon would know if he did anyway. 

iv. i’ve been losing touch with all i’ve ever held onto. 

Brendon pushed open the hotel room door, freezing when he saw the two figures on the bed. Ryan’s legs were tangled with a strange boy’s, their lips dancing, hands on shoulders and waist. 

He ran, halfway down the hallway before the door clicked behind him. He jabbed at the elevator button until he was in the basement, wandering with heavy feet before he turned into the laundry room. He slid down the wall, letting the tears coarse down his cheeks. 

It had come out of everywhere, the feelings. Ryan’s head on his chest when it was too cold in the van and they were sharing blankets. Ryan’s legs pressing against his in shared hotel beds. Light, doesn’t-mean-anything (means everything) kisses on the cheek. Overhearing stifled gasps at night from the bathroom. 

It wasn’t like Ryan would care anyway. 

v. just a simple change of scenery from 360 degrees. 

Ryan woke up on the couch in the bus. He squinted in distaste at his surroundings for a moment before looking up. Spencer sat across from him. “I don’t remember leaving,” he said. 

“You wouldn’t get up so Brendon carried you down,” the younger boy answered. “So.” He closed his laptop. “You got laid last night?” 

Ryan sat up, eyes wide, lips slightly parted in shock. ”What?” 

His best friend grinned, like it was a good joke. “Brendon walked in.” 

Ryan sighed, swearing as he threw himself backward on the couch, bringing a hand up to his forehead. “I knew I heard the fucking door open.” 

“So that’s why you couldn’t wake up this morning?” Spencer didn’t even try to hide the amusement in his voice. 

“Not my fault,” Ryan insisted. “You wouldn’t understand. You get laid regularly.” 

“Whatever you say, man.” Spencer rolled his eyes and shook his head as he stood and left the room. 

vi. your pillow feels so soft now, but still you must advance. 

“Sorry about the other night,” Ryan said when Brendon came out of the shower. He was watching a documentary on IFC. A file was scratching against his fingernails. 

“What do you mean?” Brendon asked, trying to sound uninterested. “You don’t need to apologize for getting laid.” 

“Yeah, well. Apparently you’re really upset about it or something because you didn’t mention it.” He looked up, trying to meet Brendon’s eyes, but they were carefully avoiding his. 

The younger boy ducked behind his bed, apparently looking for something in his suitcase. “Who was he?” he asked, voice a little too-loud. 

“I met him when I went out to grab a coffee. He was so cute.” He gave a contented sigh, tossing the nail file to the nightstand.