When Ryan finally comes home the clock's just striking ten, and I'm curled up on the couch with my mom, in the dark, watching TV. I'm not exactly sure why I decided to come downstairs in the first place, seeing as I'm mad at her for being mean, but I figured it was a lot better than crying alone in my bedroom.
While I was sitting there watching TV, I wondered if she had already forgotten about my grounding - and trust me, I wouldn't be surprised if she had.
My dad's upstairs, hidden in his bedroom, because he's clearly still far too weirded out by any talk that involves me and Ryan, together. Let alone, me crying about Ryan over something like sex (not like he knows we're fighting over that, at least, oh, dear god, I hope not). I mean, I love my dad and all, but come on, yes, you're son is gay and dating the pastors son, but no, that does not mean you're going to hell for it. Can we please move on now?
However, I have to give it to him, because before making his escape, he gave me an awkward pat on the back, and a mumbled 'good, um, luck'.
Okay and I know I've made it seem like my dads some big homophobe, but he's not. Well, at least not in the George Ross kind of way. But... he just, okay, so when I first told my parents I was gay (or, well, okay, when they found my porn), he was (mostly) okay with it (I mean, after he got over the whole oh my god, guys doing it). He accepted it. But now, I don't know whether it's just because this time, I actually have a boyfriend (one that he knows about) or if it's just because it's Ryan, the pastor's son. If anything, he'd be more of the scared kind of homophobe, then the hate kind.
Anyways, back to the important thing, Ryan. He comes stumbling in, all disheveled with red eyes, and my first thought is, oh my god, is Ryan Ross drunk? He stands at the entrance of the living room, just behind the television, and looks at me, all cuddled up next to my mom while she pets my hair (shut up, yes, I still cuddle with my mom when I'm upset).
"Hi," he mumbles after a few minutes of us just staring back at each other in silence.
"Um, hi," I murmur back, heart thumping. "I was wondering if you were um, gonna come home."
"Uh, yeah..." he says, awkwardly as he looks around the room with a lost look on his face like he's never stepped foot in my house before, never mind him living here for the past month.
"Where were you?" I ask, slowly picking myself up from the couch, and my moms hold.
He shrugs, and keeps his eyes away from me. "At a friends."
I narrow my eyes, suspicious, because I already called Jon and Spencer, and neither of them said they had seen him after we left this morning. And, like, no offense or anything, but what other friends does he have? Certainly not those little churchie's anymore. However, I let it go, because I'm really not in the position to be questioning him, or hinting at him being a big fat liar. "Okay, well, want to go and talk?"
He shrugs again, and fakes a yawn. "I'm really tired actually. Maybe tomorrow?"
My stomach and I kind of want to start crying again. "Oh, um, okay..." I mutter.
"Thanks."
We stand at the landing of the staircase for a few minutes, in the most awkward silence ever, with my just in the other room, probably straining her ears to hear.
I'm still wondering if he's drunk, but he's not slurring, and its Ryan Ross after all, so I pretty much really doubt it.
"So..." Ryan starts, as his eyes wander up the stairs. "I was thinking maybe you could like, sleep in the guest room tonight, because, you know, like, yeah..."
"..." Um, what?
I mean, okay, it's not like I expected us to sleep in the same bed when we're in a fight like this and everything, but really, why do I have to be the one sleeping in the guest room? This is my house, and my bed. Just because he's been sharing it with me for the past month or however long it's been, it does not entitle him to kick me out of my bed and tell me to sleep in the guest room. He's the one that blew this whole thing out proportion and got us into this big fight to begin with. He's the one who stormed out of the house like a child, and didn't come back for hours, making me worry and cry all alone all day instead of, I don't know, staying and working it out? Who does he think he is anyway?
"O-Okay."
He gives me a small, appreciative smile and squeezes my arm. "Thanks. Goodnight." Then that's that, before he's disappearing up the stairs, with me staring up after him, wondering where the hell my backbone went.
- - -
Two hours later, I'm alone on the musty, uncomfortable guest bed, in my scary basement. Oh, and did I mention alone? I'm not going to be able to sleep, I know that already. I'm still cursing myself for not saying no to Ryan, because he can't just go kicking me out of my own bed, even if I did say the things I did (which, you know, could have been a lot worse).
After he went upstairs, I went back on the couch and cried to my mom some more, because I was hoping we'd work it out. I thought he'd come home, fall into my arms, and cry; telling me how sorry he is and he'll never leave again. Then, I'd cry, hold onto him and promise him we'd never fight again. Then, there would be some kissing and some removal of clothing, then some sex to follow - and this time, I'd make sure to use a condom. But, nope, not even close. I got a drunk-looking, emotionless Ryan.
I'm not exactly sure what time it is when the door slowly slides open, and a thin ray of light comes flooding in. I crank my head towards the door to see Ryan's silhouette, curled into himself, with a pillow clutched to his stomach. I hear a few sniffs, and the door click shut. Then, he just dashes across the room and into the bed, pulling the covers over himself and curling into my side.
I suck in a breath, because I wasn't really expecting that, but I don't have to think before I'm pulling the pillow from between us, and wrapping an arm around his tiny waist, pulling him closer into me. He takes a deep breath, and nestles his face into my shoulder. "I'm sorry," he apologizes in a hushed tone, voice muffled by the soft material of my shirt. "I couldn't sleep, knowing that you were done here, and we were in a fight. I shouldn't have left today either, I don't know what I was thinking, I was just so upset, and terr -" he says, voice rushed, and I can feel his hot tears soak through my t-shirt and into my skin.
I run my fingers through his hair, soothing him. "Shhh," I hush him, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his left eyebrow. "It's okay. I understand." Because really, I do.
He hiccups, and presses his nose into my shoulder. "I don't blame you for blowing up at me... for saying those things..."
"But you should," I whisper. "I shouldn't have. Because you have every right to be scared... I mean, honestly if I were you, I would be too. I was exactly like you when I was with Ethan, probably worse, I was so paranoid about protection it was ridiculous. One time, I thought the condom had broken, and I cried... so, it's not like I don't understand... I feel like an idiot for just getting so caught up with you, and sex, that I forgot."
He shrugs, and pulls his face from my shoulder, tilting his head to look up at me. It's dark, and I can barely see his face, but I swear, his beauty still makes me go weak at the knees. "It's okay," he whispers, genuinely, running a finger along my bicep, and that's all he says about it. He hiccups, and sniffles. "I don't want to fight with you." He pouts. "It sucks."
"It does," I agree, cause god, does it ever. "Let's just agree that we were both acting like ignorant idiots over this whole thing, and promise that we'll never forget to use a condom again."
He bites his lip. "Never?"
"Never," I confirm.
"But..." he starts, slowly, blinking up at me a few times, his finger still running along my skin, causing goose bumps. "What if we're both clean... and we know for sure?"
"W-Well, only if you're okay with it," I say unsurely with a bit of a stutter.
He nods, and smiles. "I am," he replies. He moves himself so he's half on top of me, and presses his lips into my ear, like it's a secret, even though there's no one around to hear. "I like having you in me... all of you... with nothing in between."
Yeah, those words definitely went straight to my cock.
I'm kind of at a loss for words after that, my brain a total mush. He pulls his mouth from my ear, and presses a quick kiss to my lips, a smile gracing his own, before ending it off with rubbing his nose against mine, in a cute little Eskimo kiss. "Is it sad to say that I missed you?" he whispers, nose still pressed against mine.
I grip onto his waist, my mind still all gooey. Somehow, I manage to get out, "Probably, but I missed you too."
He smiles, content, and rests his head on my shoulder, breath spilling over my neck and down the collar of my shirt. I shiver. "Gosh, today was the worst day ever."
"Tell me about it," I mumble.
He kisses my neck, once, then picks his head back up from my shoulder to kiss my jaw, then my bottom lip, and then fully on my lips. He kisses me again, and again... and then once more. And just oh geez, nothing will ever beat Ryan kiss, like ever. Hands down.
We lay in content silence for a few minutes with him raking his hand through my hair, and the exchanging of more innocent, little kisses. Then, I go and ruin it by going, "My mom's making an appointment tomorrow for us to get tested."
"Oh, Okay," he says softly, and nods, slow. "Okay, good."
I pull him closer into me, wrapping both my arms tightly around him. He's so small I swear, there could be five more of him, and I'd still have arm to spare. He presses his face into my neck, inhaling, as I slip my hand up the back of his shirt, fingers dancing up his boney spine.
He yawns, then grips at my elbow as he murmurs, 'Mm, I love you' into my skin, tickling me.
I fall asleep, not even five minutes later to the feeling of his heart beating against my chest, and his soft breath trickling down against my neck.
- - -
My mom manages to make an appointment for us at the clinic for right after school on Monday. It goes without saying; Ryan is practically shaking with anxiety all day. He tries to hide it from me, but he fails horribly.
At lunch, he barely says anything, or really even touches his food. He spends the whole time absentmindedly playing with the hair on my arm that's resting on his thigh, comfortingly, as he stares up at the clock hanging on the wall.
Jon and Spencer exchange looks but don't say anything.
Halfway through lunch, none other than Dayna comes sauntering up to the table, all smiles. "Hi guys!" she beams, like oh golly gee.
And I'm kind of like, Oh great, this is exactly what I need right now.
Spencer is the first to look up, not trying to hide his shocked face at her appearance. He even starts to choke on his apple. Of course, Jon's right on it, hand rubbing at his back, with this worried look on his face. He looks up to see who's going to die for making his boyfriend choke, then when he sees it's Dayna he frowns in confusion, and looks over at us like, wtf?
I shrug, and shake my head, putting my face into my hands. Ryan's the only one who isn't surprised she's here, and also, the only one who acts the least bit welcoming but forcing a small smile, tearing his tired eyes away from the clock. "Hey, Day."
Day? Day?! What the fuck is that? Day? Ugh, gag me with a large, metal spoon, please.
Of course, she's too dumb to pick up the hint that no one wants her there, because she motions to the chair right beside Ryan and asks if she can sit down.
Um, no!!!
"Of course," Ryan replies, who's all of a sudden all smiley.
Blood rushes to my face, and my fists clench under the table. Me? Jealous? Of her? Pfft. No way.
Okay, fine, but only just a little. But, I mean, come on, seriously, he's not supposed to be friends with her. What girls in their right mind would want to be all buddy-buddy with their gay ex-boyfriend who cheated on them only a few weeks ago? It just doesn't happen. Unless you're a conniving, little bitch who is trying to steal my Ryan away. Er, back... whatever. I can just feel it.
I turn to Ryan, just by like, pure instinct, and narrow my eyes. And to be honest, I don't really give a flying fuck if she can see it. However, he doesn't seem to notice, so I tug at his arm and pull him closer to me, protectively. He doesn't seem to notice that either.
"So, what's up?" he asks, as she takes a seat next to him... far, far too close.
That little slut.
I look across the table, where Spencer's still sitting there all white-faced and confused, and Jon's staring at him with a look on his face like he's scared he's going to drop dead at any second.
Seems little Miss Ryan didn't let Spencer in on his little budding friendship with Dayna.
"Oh, nothing," she replies, with that stupid, little grin on her face. She thinks she looks so innocent, but I see her ways...
I scowl, and stab my pudding with my spoon.
"Are you guys okay, now?" she asks, motioning to the two of us.
Um, hold on... WHAT?!
I drop my spoon into my pudding, and turn to stare at her. She knows about our fight?! I move my eyes to glare at Ryan, shocked and angry, and just what the hell? But, that also goes unnoticed, because he's obviously just so intent on that little bitch, and nods, smiling gratefully. "Yeah." He moves to squeeze onto my hand, and I yank it away.
He looks at me, questioningly, while Dayna goes, "Oh, well, that's good." She nods. "I'm glad. You guys are too cute together."
I snort out loud, because yeah, I'm sure. You don't just say your ex-boyfriend is cute with the person they dumped you for - especially, when it's a guy, and she's all ooh, being gay is a sin. I just don't buy it. She's just sucking up. She was hoping we'd break up so Ryan would go running back to her, telling her he's actually straight after all, and he loves her, not me, then they'll live happily ever after in a house with a white-picket fence, five kids and dog named, Buddy.
I'm still pissed - no, fucking fuming, she told him about our fight. He better have just told her that, and not given her any details to why we started fighting in the first place, or I will personally, make sure he never sees light again. Okay, so maybe not, but her for sure, and I don't really care if she's a girl or not.
"So, you know how you were telling me on Saturday about how you guys are trying to find a new church?" she asks.
Saturday? Saturday?! The Saturday when Ryan left, and didn't come back for like, what? Five billion fucking hours and I still have no idea where he went? That Saturday?
Ryan nods, all nonchalantly, and I can't even pay attention to what he's saying, because, what? He was with her on Saturday? She was his 'friend' who he was with? When he was in a fight, and left me at home, crying, to go hang out with her, and tell her all about our fight and how I gave him STD's?
My heart starts racing, and I'm starting to feel a little dizzy as I stare down at my half-eaten pudding. This is so, so stupid. I shouldn't be jealous. Ryan dumped her, for me. He loves me. Not her. He's gay; he doesn't like girls, so why am I even worried? Plus, I trust him. They obviously didn't do anything, even if he was as mad as he was. It's okay if they're friends. I should be happy because I know she does mean a lot to him, in a friend kind of way.
But... but... he was with her all freaking day on Saturday when he could have been with me, working through our stupid, stupid fight!
"Brendon!" Ryan beams, tugging at my arm, snapping me out of my racing thoughts. "Isn't that great?!"
"Huh?"
He sighs, and lets go of my arm. "You weren't listening, were you?"
I barely manage to shake my head, because I can still barely think about anything besides Saturday. Saturday and how Dayna knows about our fight when Jon doesn't even. "No, sorry," I mumble.
"Dayna was saying she was asking around yesterday at church, about other churches, you know, ones that are more open-minded. She said some lady told her about one not too far away, that's apparently good with that kind of stuff. There's even an open gay couple there. Isn't that great?" He beams, and he's absolutely giddy now, opposed to how he was all mopey and anxious before she showed up. "We should go this Sunday. Dayna even said she'd go with us."
Of course she would.
"Oh, cool," I mumble. And, yeah, if it was any other time, or I had found out about this church in any other way, I'd probably be pretty happy, because it means a lot to Ryan, which obviously means a lot to me. Plus, it'd be nice to be able to go to church, fully open about my sexuality and my relationship with Ryan, and not have to worry about everyone around there judging us. Or, you know, having to suffer through any more of those stupid sermons on how I'm such an abomination. Best of all, I wouldn't have to deal with George.
He looks me over for a few seconds, smile faltering. He sighs, disappointed, and turns back to Dayna. "Thanks a lot," he says genuinely. "I really appreciate it."
"Oh, don't mention it." She giggles. Fucking giggles. "But, I better get going. I'll talk to you later." She gets off the chair, and I breathe a sigh of relief. However, before walking way, she gives the rest of us a smile. "I'll see you guys later, Brendon. Spence." I swear, Spencer flinches at the nickname. I don't blame him, because I would too. However, he sends her a weak smile.
She gives a nod to Jon, obviously not a clue to his name, and then prances off.
Spencer still looks lost, and Jon pretty much shows no emotion on the matter. "Wasn't that your ex-girlfriend?" he asks Ryan, like he really has no idea, even though he was there every single lunch when I sat whining over the two of them together. He is so dense sometimes, I swear, though I'm sure you've figured that out by yourself by now.
Um, yeah." Ryan nods, a light blush spreading over his cheeks. Yes, he's fucking blushing.
I don't give Jon a chance to reply, before I'm turning to Ryan. "You were with her on Saturday?" I demand.
He looks at me, and shrugs like it's no big deal. "Yeah..."
"Why?"
"Because... I don't know she's my friend?" he tries, and he genuinely looks confused as to why I'm making a big deal out of this.
I nod, and stare back down at the table. "And you told her about our fight?"
"Yeah...?"
"And what it was about?" I ask, voice cracking, and I'm seriously seconds away from hiding under the table and crying.
"Yeah..." he says again, this time even more hesitant.
My stomach drops, I mean, completely drops down into my butt, because I mean, what the hell? He told his ex-girlfriend he let me fuck him in Spencer's grandma's bathroom, without a condom, and now he's worried I might have given him AIDS or something? This can't be happening. I didn't even tell Jon, my best friend, when he asked. I didn't tell him because I didn't think it was anyone else's business but me and Ryan's, and knowing Ryan, I didn't think he'd appreciate me telling either. But, nope, he decides its okay to tell freaking Dayna.
"Bren..." he says, carefully, chewing on his bottom lip as he rests a hand on my shoulder. "Are you - are you mad?" he asks, hesitant, like he almost doesn't want to know the answer.
Of course I'm fucking mad, you idiot! I'm furious! Do you not know me at all?!
"No."
He looks at me doubtfully, and I look away.
He sighs, and then it's Spencer's turn. "Um?" he questions.
"What?"
"Since when are you friends with Dayna again? Let alone even talking?" He frowns. "I thought she hated you."
"We made up. She forgave me," he replies, shrugging, which only makes me madder, because how does he not see the big deal in this?!
"Right... And you just decided not to tell me?" he asks, and he honestly looks hurt, like a wounded puppy. I almost want to give him a hug, but then I remember its Spencer. Plus, Jon goes right to it anyway, by slinging an arm around his shoulder.
"It slipped my mind," Ryan mumbles, and I'm not looking at him, but I can just feel him staring at me with a guilty expression on his face.
Good. You deserve it. Jerk.
I barely say a word for the remaining fifteen minutes of lunch, and if I do, it's not to Ryan (whose guilty expression never leaves). When the warning bell rings, I go to get up with Spencer and Jon, but Ryan grabs onto my wrist, stopping me.
I stare down at him, eyes cold, and he blinks up at me, pleading. "Just hold on a sec, please?"
I sigh, and sit down. "What?"
Ryan nods his goodbyes to Jon and Spencer, and he doesn't start until the cafeteria is nearly empty, not caring if they're late for class. "Bren, I'm sorry," he says, still holding tight onto my wrist. "I didn't think you'd care so much, if at all."
"Of course I'd care. She probably thinks I'm a slut," I reply, and um, wait. Why do I even care even if she does think I'm a slut?
He shakes his head, and lets out a small laugh. "No, she doesn't. She really wants to get to know you."
Yeah, so it hurts even more when she takes you away from me.
I shrug. "Why would you even tell her about our sex life, anyway? That's just... weird and none of her business," I snap.
"I don't know. I was upset, and I needed someone to talk to."
"What about Spencer? From what I can recall, he was your best friend, not her," I hiss, as I stubbornly stare down at the floor, and kick the leg of the table. I decide to leave out the fact that I'm still really PO'd about him hanging out with her all Saturday.
"Brendon," he says, hooking his hand under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "She's my friend, okay? You're just going to have to accept it. I didn't go to Spencer because I knew he was with Jon, and she was just the first person I thought of. I honestly don't see what the big deal is. You should be happy for me, that we're still friends after everything. I know you'd really like her if you just stopped being a close-minded, jealous jerk and get over yourself."
I frown, opening my mouth to get mad at him for that. I mean that was just rude and... okay, so true.
He moves his hand to the back of my neck, and pulls me into him, resting his nose against mine. "Just kidding." He smiles.
"No, you're not." I pout.
He chuckles, and pecks my lips. "I know."
I melt, and I realize I'm just going to have to accept the fact that it's impossible to be mad at this kid for more than ten minutes.
Oh, and um... Dayna who?