Flexible--Rydon--76

Ryan feels a little like a bomb-survivor, sitting alone there in that café, all shell-shocked and confused. Then his eyes light upon the pale yellow scarf Trevor has left behind on his chair.

"Fuck," slips out of his mouth before he can help it; a woman with two kids throws him a dirty look. Ryan apologizes to her, then snatches up the scarf and goes running out the door after a boy he's seen disappear too many times.

By the time he gets to the sidewalk, Trevor is nowhere to be seen. Ryan huffs angrily and whips out his cell-phone to send a quick text message. The reply is immediate: "Consider it a gift from me to you. <3"

Smiling despite himself, Ryan pockets his phone and, looking thoughtfully at the scarf in his hands, carefully winds Trevor's last gift around his neck. Thank you, he says, reaching out one last time for the immaterial boy in his head, only to find him gone.

So is it really all that unreasonable for Ryan to return to the apartment with a silly grin on his face, all triumph and good spirits?

"So," Brendon begins in a pissy voice. "Are we through or should I be expecting a request for a threesome?"

Ryan's jaw drops. "I… what?"

"You're obviously still in love with him, you asshole!" shrieks Brendon.

Reaching out to smooth Brendon's forehead, Ryan says quietly, "Perhaps I still hold some affection for my first love, but I… That doesn't hold an candle to what I feel for you."

Brendon regards him suspiciously. "So you're not getting back together with Trevor?" he asks.

Ryan laughs and shakes his head. "I am not," he confirms. "I told Trevor that I was dating you and we chatted a little bit and then he left."

"Oh." Brendon blushes. "I feel a little silly now."

"You wouldn't be my Bden if you weren't," teases Ryan.

Brendon squirms in happy embarrassment. "Though," he admits. "A threesome with you and Trevor would be pretty hot."

"Brendon!" Ryan exclaims, flushing dark red.

Brendon grins cheekily back at him. "Just saying."

"Oh, right," says Ryan, rolling his eyes. "I forgot how your European tour goal was to get it on with a guy."

Brendon blushes. "I can now look back on all previous tour with complete and utter embarrassment how weird I was towards because I wanted to tell you I liked you but didn't know how," he says with a small groan.

Ryan smiles. "It was kinda cute, actually," he says.

"You probably only thought that because you liked me back," teases Brendon. "No one in their right mind would think that."

Ryan laughs, hazel eyes scrunching up in warm happiness. When he stops laughing, he reaches forward to cup Brendon's face. "You once asked me if I was the pitcher or the catcher," he says softly, refreshing Brendon's memory with another of his past awkward moments. "And I… I guess I'm whichever as long as I'm with you."

"It's a good thing you aren't half so cheesy when you're writing songs," Brendon says, laughing and placing his hands over Ryan's.

"You're lucky that I can't think of a good retort right now," says Ryan.

Brendon arches his eyebrows. "Why?" he asks, and then Ryan's lips are smothering his own.

There is something different about this kiss—something more heated and wanting. Brendon finds himself stumbling towards his bed as Ryan's teeth pull on his full bottom lip. You're so agonizingly skinny, he realizes when he slides his hands up his boyfriend's shirt.

"Where. Are. Spencer. And. Brent?" Ryan asks between kisses.

"Out," Brendon replies shortly. "Spencer's house. I think." He moans as Ryan palms his dick through his jeans. Intimacy with a boy is so different from intimacy with a girl, Brendon decides. Ryan is all long limbs and sinewy muscle and whoa! That's his cock pressed flush against Brendon's thigh. Okay.

"Want you so bad," Ryan mouths against Brendon's ear, and really, he's past caring that he sounds like an ill-written line out of a two-star porn movie.

Brendon bucks his leg up to press relentless against Ryan's hard-on. He marvels at the perfect arch that Ryan's back turns into at the contact. "Do you want to fuck?" he asks in a rough whisper.

"I want your fingers," admits Ryan hollowly.

The sound of someone clearing their throat ruins the moment, and the two jump apart like they've been burned, and shit, they didn't even hear Spencer come in.

"I am so glad that we'll be getting our own places soon," he deadpans, and Ryan colors in embarrassment.

But Brendon just waggles his eyebrows suggestively at Ryan. "Me too," he says. "Me too."