I've been with you such a long time, you're my sunshine.
***
I woke to the sound of the blaring alarm, my eyes flicking open only to register that I was mere inches away from the puddle of drool forming on Rye's pillow just above me. I scrunched my nose up, trying to wiggle myself free, but found myself locked rather tightly in his embrace.
"Let me go, Rye, you're about to drool on me," I complained, pushing at his chest. He didn't do as I asked, instead wrapping his legs around me as well so I was extra trapped. "Let me go you stupid giant!" I demanded again.
"I'm not a giant, you're just a midget," Rye corrected me, giving me one final constricting squeeze before releasing me. I rolled off his bed with a humph.
"What are you wearing tonight?" I asked him, heading over to sieve through his wardrobe where I'd already hung up his clothes.
"Clothes."
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, well I'm borrowing your Diesel jumper."
"No, I'm wearing that," he protested.
"So you do know what you're wearing then," I huffed, heading into my own room to find something else. I knew probably no one would give a shit what I was wearing, but I felt pressure to look good anyway as I was essentially debuting myself to an entirely new group of people. And it wouldn't hurt if a certain someone was impressed.
"Fuck," I said out loud, remembering I might actually get some tonight. I had more preparation to do than I realised.
"I'm gonna hop in the shower," I called to Rye, grabbing my toiletries from my room, making sure I had my razor with me. I ran the warm water and jumped in, shampooing my hair before rubbing shower gel generously over my entire body, paying extra attention to my 'special areas'. Rye wandered in the at the worst moment, of course, while I was doing some light topiary work with the razor. I'd let things get a little wild 'down there' in the three months I'd been single.
"Manscaping are we?" Rye smirked, glancing at me through the shower glass while he got his own shaving kit out.
"Just a touch," I mumbled, turning my body away in embarrassment. I finished up quickly, wrapping a towel around my waist and nudging Rye to the side so I could blow dry my hair in the mirror while he shaved.
Rye was ready long before I was, and decided to make himself useful by going out to buy our drinks for us. He seemed to take a suspiciously long time to return considering the shop was just down the road. I discovered the reason for this when I poked my head out into the hallway, rolling my eyes as I saw him leaned against the wall with a brown paper bag in hand, chatting to a girl standing in the doorframe of the opposite apartment. We'd been moved in for what? Five minutes? I looked at him expectantly, ready to go.
"Excuse us?" the girl said, eyeing me like she wasn't sure why I was looking at them.
"Oh, Andy, this is our neighbour, Liza," Rye introduced, noticing me standing there. "Liza, this is Andy, my best mate."
"You two are best friends?" Liza asked skeptically. I could see her take me in, my nail polish and bleached blond hair and all five-foot-six pale inches of me. She looked back at Rye- who with his summer tan was looking even more like a Greek god than usual- and the comparison she was making was painfully obvious in her eyes.
"Yup, and we're heading out now," I said a bit curtly, pulling Rye away with me. Maybe I was cock-blocking him, but I justified it to myself because Liza didn't seem like a nice person anyway. That assumption was probably unfair because I'd barely met her, but a vibe was a vibe. I didn't enjoy how with one haughty look she'd managed to remind me all over again that Rye and I made an odd picture.
It was difficult at times, that on the surface, Rye and I didn't really make sense as best friends, but at the same time that was kind of what I loved about us. My old theatre friends had found it weird at first, when he would slip into the back of the auditorium during the last few minutes of rehearsal in his muddy football gear as he waited to drive me home. But eventually they'd gotten used to the idea that we weren't just going to grow apart as most childhood best friends did when they grew up into different people. He was always there in the front row for all of my performances, and I was always freezing my ass off on the sidelines as I screamed my lungs out at his football games. Even when we became Rye and Andy, we always remained Rye-and-Andy, and time had proven that nothing was going to change that.
What people couldn't understand from a passing glance, was that the reason that Rye and I worked was bigger than overlapping interests and social groups. We completed each other in much more important ways. We knew each other inside out because we had seen one another at our darkest points. When Rye started acting out during his parents' divorce, I was there to ground him, making sure that his newfound affinity for drinking and hooking up at parties didn't stop him from meeting his deadlines so his grades stayed good enough to give him an escape once we finished college. I was the only person in the world he trusted enough to see him cry, letting me hold him when it all got too much and he just broke down. And Rye had similarly been my rock when I was struggling with my sexuality- albeit being the reason I realised I was not-so-straight in the first place. But, misplaced romantic feelings aside, he had made the whole coming-out process survivable. He'd made it clear that he loved me no matter what, and adamantly refused to stop being affectionate with me in front of people, even when it caused whispers about him to circle around the rumour mill for a few weeks.
Of course, I didn't still have romantic feelings for Rye, my hormone-fuelled identity crisis had just happened to clash with his outstandingly successful puberty. Within a year of my coming out, my feelings were pretty sorted out and the rumours dispelled. I got together with my ex, and Rye- to put it mildly- did pretty well with the ladies, causing him to gain an entirely different reputation. College students tended to stick with their own kind, so our opposing lifestyles had only made it more confusing to others as to why we got on, but that never bothered us.
"You alright, babe?" Rye asked me, slinging an arm over my shoulders as we made our way out of the building.
"Yeah I'm good," I said, smiling warmly at him. "Sorry for rushing you away, she looked at me funny."
"You sound a bit mental, but that's okay. Plenty more fish in the sea."
"Is something only hot people say," I muttered, and if Rye heard me, he chose to ignore it. Convincing me that I didn't look like the pauper to his prince was a fight he'd given up long ago. "Don't you think she had an excessive amount of lip filler as well?" I added as a petty afterthought.
"Well, we can't all have a natural duck pout like you babe," Rye chuckled, pinching my lips together.
I pushed his hand off. "Stop that."
"Seriously, Andy, I bet you give amazing blowjobs," he teased.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" I sassed back. Rye just winked, and I rolled my eyes.
***
"You two are freshers, yeah?" The thickset bouncer asked through narrowed eyes as his gaze flicked between our ID's and our faces. It had taken us forever to get to the front of this line, Brooklyn not having exaggerated when he said that this on-campus club would be the one everyone was trying to get into tonight.
"Yeah..." I answered hesitantly.
"You got an invite then?"
I didn't. Rye looked at me, expecting me to do something, as I, after all, had dragged him along to this. "Uh, we know Brooklyn Wyatt," I tried.
The guy frowned, before turning his head around to shout back into the club. "Oi Gibson! You know these two?"
I definitely didn't know who Gibson was, and was certain he therefore didn't know us and we were about to be humiliatingly turned away from our first ever uni party. However, the face that appeared around the corner was familiar, the sight of it making my stomach flutter a little bit, having only seen him before in an instagram photo. The boy looked us both up and down with a confused expression until he looked at my face and clicked in recognition.
"I told you he had a fake name," Rye muttered under his breath, and I ignored him.
"Yeah, these are my friends, come inside!" The smiling brunet boy said, ushering us in. The bouncer stepped aside, and I sighed in relief as I walked past the barrier, Rye close behind me as we were lead into the party.
"Andy! It's so good to finally meet you!" He said, pulling me in for a hug.
"You too," I replied, a little overwhelmed by his enthusiasm. "Brooklyn, this is Rye."
"Boyfriend?" Brooklyn questioned.
"No," Rye and I said immediately in unison, causing Brooklyn to raise his eyebrows
"We're best friends," I explained.
"Ohh, cute. Nice to meet you, Rye!" Brooklyn greeted, pulling Rye in for a hug as well, Rye looking even more baffled by the exuberance than I was.
Brooklyn lead us deeper into the party where we found a spot to open up our smuggled-in alcohol. I was worried at first that everyone would be buying drinks from the bar, but I saw plenty of others with similar looking paper bags to ours, and Brooklyn explained that this was pretty standard practise amongst students, also mentioning that there was probably a whole lot more than just drinks in many of those bags.
Rye went off for a second to ask someone if he could borrow a bottle opener, and I instantly felt Brooklyn lean in close, goosebumps appearing at the top of my spine as he whispered in my ear. "Is he straight?"
I couldn't suppress my sigh, this was too typical. Rye was so hot he was not only attracting girls but now even stealing boys he didn't want from me.
"Yeah he is, sorry to disappoint," I answered, staring wistfully at my best friend who was laughing with the guy who lent him the bottle opener, so effortlessly beautiful even from a distance. I didn't resent him for it, it wasn't his fault people wanted him. I probably would have wanted him myself if he wasn't my best friend.
"No, I'm glad," Brooklyn chuckled. "Means I don't have to compete."
"Oh." I felt my face heat up, realisation flashing over me at the same time as shyness. I wasn't used to being flirted with. Especially when Rye was with me.
Rye returned just then, saving me from making what would have undoubtedly been an undignified response, open beers in hand.
"Gimme," I commanded, taking the beverage gratefully, skulling it back quickly.
"That's my baby," Rye said proudly, "we're gonna have a good night."
"Cheers to that," said Brooklyn, knocking back his own drink, Rye sending his straight down the hatch immediately after.
A/N: hope you're enjoying so far, i know i've spent a bit of time on background and character in these first couple chapters but plot is gonna kick in soon :)