Although it was unbearably average and startlingly mediocre, Ryan's life didn't have many constants. His mom had run out early on and continuing contact was irregular, his dad was unpredictable and seemed to be a different person every couple of months, any extracurricular he tried to take on to distract from home seemed to fall out of his routine - so on. There was someone, however, he could always count on: Brendon. When Ryan's newly-bachelor dad moved to the cheaper house when he was three, there was this huge, weird family next door, or at least that's how he saw it at the time. His dad had said something about them being Mormons and Ryan had no idea how to take that, or what that meant, so for a while all he did was sort of observe from afar whenever the kids were running around outside, looking fairly normal but dressing in a sort of uniform way and acting oddly formal sometimes. Anyway. That was his first opinion.

And then the youngest one turned out to be sort of a dork, so. Ryan learned the basics about religion and LDS specifically, navigated it as carefully as possible around Brendon's parents, and he appeared to be accepted as Brendon's friend. They worked well; Ryan was sort of flat, weird and funny when he had the energy but otherwise controlled out of force of habit, and Brendon was all energy, all the light in Ryan's life except when he had to be well-behaved for whatever adult was around to criticize. There was definitely some kind of inner polarity within him that Ryan could see, because he was clearly bursting at the seams a lot of the time, bouncing his feet and tapping pencils and clicking pens in class but desperately trying to follow all the 'sit still/stay quiet/be polite' rules that he'd been indoctrinated into. That became less of the big conflict, though, when, as he grew into the double digits and beyond, he started questioning the faith he'd been born into - that was a lot more concerning.

That questioning culminated into him fully not believing in what he'd been raised to anymore, or at least, he had major doubts about it all. It came back to Ryan first, of course, his best friend, the least likely to judge him for it. What was off was the fact that it came through in the form of hey, I've been thinking, and - just let me try something, close to that tune, and Brendon's love for his religion had apparently turned into an affection for Ryan instead, because they were kissing pretty soon following Brendon confessing he wasn't as close to the faith as his family wanted. Which, y'know, worked out, because although Ryan tried not to dedicate too much of his time to thinking about it all lest he drive himself crazy, he'd sort of had a thing for Brendon for a while. He didn't come to terms with it until then, though, so evidently this was an explorative time for them both.

Considering the potentially homophobic, 'never shown signs of hatefulness but could totally feasibly just follow the usual religious preachings on the matter' guy he'd had a sort-of-crush on ended up liking him right back, Ryan was lucky. And then he kept testing that luck by continually coming around just as much, if not more often than he had before - and considering he lived more at Brendon's place than his own, given his situation, that was saying a lot. No one really caught on because they were naturally touchy, appropriately close for people who'd been best friends for something like fourteen years now, but still Ryan knew they should probably be more careful. Like, when Brendon was grounded, not clambering through his window from the tree between their houses. Or, when they were in church, Brendon not muttering malicious or otherwise inappropriate shit under his breath to Ryan. Y'know. Normal stuff.

And yet he continued coming back. They had a movie night planned this time around, some random cycle through whatever they could find. It couldn't come any sooner; Ryan had been holed up in his room all day, listening to the indistinct stumbling sounds and clinks of glass against counter from the rest of the house, trying to time when he could eventually leave his space. Around eight there was a period of silence and when he glanced from his window to Brendon's, the house didn't look too busy - perfect. He'd been ready for hours, fully dressed in some band tee and jeans and a hoodie, and he darted down the stairs and out the door without sparing a glance over his shoulder. At Brendon's door he wisely zipped his jacket up all the way, covering the logo 'cause parents, and finally knocked. Brendon answered, predictably, within seconds, and was reaching for him. Hey, baby! Ryan practically flinched away from him, artfully dodging his attempts at an embrace and casually playing it off as if he was stepping through the doorway. "What? Hi, hey, what's up," he rattled off rapidly, looking around in alarm.

See, Brendon tended to do this. Got way too close when another kid or, worse, a parent could be running around nearby, or at least close enough to hear him call Ryan baby. "Careful," he hissed to Brendon after his quick look around, finally toning it down enough to relax a little and brush their hands together, sending him a reserved smile. Still looking around somewhat nervously, Ryan backed away to the stairwell, nodding at the door for Brendon to close it and simultaneously ushering him over so they could escape to his room. "It's been, like, fourteen hours apart. That's gotta be a new record for us."

Brendon’s life had a disappointing number of constants. He was born to James and Grace Blake, both practicing Mormons, as the youngest of five children; his older siblings were all well behaved and generally fit in to the role that was expected of them, whereas it was obvious that his parents were tired by the time they got to their fifth child and maybe didn’t do as well in successfully indoctrinating him into unconditionally believing everything they taught, and his natural restlessness and curiosity, coupled with a very strong case of adhd that was diagnosed when he was very young, meant that he was something of an oddball in a traditionally strict and straightforward family of Mormons. Brendon always felt like the odd one out; not only was he the youngest, but he felt excluded from the faith he had been raised into as soon as he reached double digits; when they all went to church, Brendon didn’t feel any sense of strong connection to God that his family talked so passionately about, the homophobic preaching made him deeply uncomfortable, as did the long, exhausting list of rules and expectations. Brendon knew what was expected of him- go to church every Sunday or more, get a good job, marry a Mormon woman, raise Mormon kids and teach them to do the same thing. It wasn’t that he was unhappy- he just knew he didn’t want that kind of life and religion didn’t have a strong a place in his life than his parents would have wanted.

Of course, it wasn’t like he was going to tell them this- if he turned around and told his god-fearing parents that he didn’t believe, he didn’t want to go to the temple anymore- he knew it’d break them and he felt some kind of pressure, like he owed it to them to follow in their footsteps. They were happy as far as couples went, sure, but Brendon had lived in the same house with four irritating siblings his entire life and he knew he wanted to break away from the uniformity. On the surface, he remained the same; polite, respectful, he pretended to pray, he went to the temple, he even expertly bullshitted prayer at the dinner table whenever he was chosen to lead it. In the background, though, he wondered how they would react if they knew their weird, hyperactive but generally well behaved son had probably already earned himself a ticket to hell in God’s books. He used and sold drugs from his early teens, and even coffee was banned in the church of the LDS- he’d already fucked up the whole chastity thing- he snuck out, broke rules, and didn’t care. It was fun. He didn’t believe in God- he’d decided that when he was twelve or thirteen- but sometimes that indoctrination and his parent’s teachings got into his head, and Brendon freaked out- what if God is real, what if I am going to hell?

It was all a lot for a thirteen year old to handle, but another more comforting constant was always there to make that easier. Brendon had lived at the same house since he was born, and Ryan and his dad moved next door when he as about two- they went to the same school, befriended eachother at a very early age thanks to Brendon’s overenthusastic parents and Ryan’s dad’s passiveness. They’d been best friends ever since, and Ryan was his confidant; when he learned that he didn’t even believe the core ‘truths’ of what he was being taught, he immediately turned to Ryan, confessing that he didn’t have faith anymore. He felt the need to explain exactly why, like he needed a reason to do what he thought was the equivalent of stabbing his parents in the back, but Ryan didn’t ask many questions, just nodded along and generally agreed with him. He had just asked whether he planned to tell his parents- and for Brendon, it was a hard pass. Though it wasn’t too difficult for Brendon to pretend nothing had changed (in fact he became even more faux-impassioned with God and Jesus, getting more involved at the temple of only to make a convincing cover), it took a toll on him mentally because he constantly had to practice something he disagreed with, pretend he agreed with things and rules that made him incredibly uncomfortable.

He wasn’t sure exactly why the Mormon teachings about god’s plan for a family, one man and one woman, made him so infuriatingly and sickeningly uneasy whenever they were mentioned, and he had to force himself to woodenly nod along, act attentive, when all he was thinking about was how that couldn’t be right, why couldn’t people just love eachother and that was enough? Why was same-sex marriage really that bad? Brendon was tormented by it, and though he excused himself as simply believing in the rights of other people, there was something else, and it took him a long time to figure it out. He didn’t feel comfortable with the traditional model of a ‘good’ family because he wanted what he, according to the church, was wrong, and something he virtually couldn’t have, and the person who made him realise that was none other than his lifelong best friend. Brendon had never spoken about his sexuality much- he told Ryan about all of what he did, but nothing beyond that. He didn’t say how it wasn’t actually that great, it didn’t feel right for him; and in turn Ryan was fairly closed off about it, and they never really addressed why. Brendon rather spontaneously realised that he just wanted to try something, and he kissed Ryan, and, thank fuck, apparently Ryan felt the same as he did. They were both stupid. Brendon’s feelings had been suppressed by indoctrination and Ryan was just oblivious to his own emotions or very good at hiding it. It just felt natural for them to progress on to being romantic, even if Brendon still felt a sense of guilt sometimes in his chest and his gut.

He tried not to be too angsty about it- in the beginning, it had been exciting and anxious and complicated, but it was comfortable, and they settled into their new dynamic very quickly (really, it was the same, except they called eachother ‘baby’ and they kissed and Brendon got jealous when his sister started blatantly flirting with Ryan). They became even closer, and Ryan came around more often; even when Brendon was grounded, which was often considering Brendon was more and more defiant as he got older, Ryan literally snuck in through his window via climbing the convenient tree between their houses. They were virtually always together, and they got away with it because they were best friends from childhood. All of their friend’s parents, whenever seeing one of them alone, would ask where their ‘other half’ was. It was apparently very dramatic for them to go less than a whole day without seeing eachother, was obvious today when Brendon spent his free time sending Ryan texts about how he missed him yesterday, church sucks, when are you coming over.

Ryan turned up at his door around eight and Brendon answered, automatically and with a huge grin stepping forwards to greet him with an embrace. As expected, Ryan sidestepped him expertly, looking extremely alarmed, especially since Brendon had just loudly referred to him as ‘baby’ and it was known by both of them that it would be difficult to even pass it off as a joke. What? Hi, hey, what's up. ”Hi.” Brendon pouted, but he got it. His parents were just that strict. He just didn’t really care at this point. Careful. He laughed briefly, leaning against the doorframe as Ryan stepped through and then lightly brushed his hand. Mockingly, he snatched it away, looking affronted. ”That’s too much homoerotic subtext for me. You’re in a Mormon household.” Brendon then straightened up and closed the front door, running a hand thoughtfully through his hair and then turning towards Ryan.

”Relax, they’re all out. Lucky you.” It was lucky. What were the chances that all six family members would be out at the same time? The only problem was, any of his siblings could come back at any time. For now, though... He followed Ryan to the stairwell, and while he was talking, he strained upwards to press a kiss against his check, just to annoy him. It's been, like, fourteen hours apart. That's gotta be a new record for us. Brendon nodded, starting to head up the stairs. ”Another hour and I would’ve died.” He skirted around the railing and then head towards his bedroom, opening the door and leaving it for Ryan to close. Brendon then basically collapsed onto his bed, his knees bent and his feet on the mattress, facing the ceiling for a few seconds before he shifted onto his side to look at Ryan. ”Next time, you’re coming to church with me again.”

Ryan tried to imagine how it was for Brendon, sometimes, the struggle he was going through. He had to play an act virtually ninety percent of his day - prayer dominated a lot of their daily activities that Ryan would never even think to stop and give grace for, or whatever, for example. One day out of the week was entirely dedicated to the faith, actually, and sometimes it was more than that. And Ryan would never be able to give the mini-speeches of thanks to some unknown power that he heard Brendon give before meals sometimes... once he knew Brendon didn't completely believe anymore, it was hard to hear, and when he was visiting to bear witness to it he'd look up from his bowed head and folded hands to check whether he was reading off a script. No such thing. He had no reservations about it in the first place, but seeing that just made Ryan want to stick with him even more while he was forced to live this lie, unable to tell anyone else.

And it got even worse when he started, in Brendon's words, experimenting. Their kiss was brief, genuinely just experimental; and then they were so awkward for a while. Ryan literally couldn't look him in the eye. He hadn't thought very hard about how he felt about boys in general before, just knew that maybe he wasn't so specific about his sexuality, that when he looked around the cafeteria at school during lunch there was a very wide variety of people he'd get flustered by if he tried talking to them. When Brendon kissed him, though, suddenly it was all very real, and he knew his vague like for anyone in general was instantly narrowed down to Brendon and Brendon alone. Actually, he'd liked Brendon for some time, just hadn't confronted it. So for a few days after the kiss, he stuck to his own house, closed his window's blinds for once to shut out the light and Brendon potentially seeing in, hid from the world while he came to the conclusion that, yes, the experiment had proved fatal, he definitely liked his lifelong best friend whose whole god-fearing family would hate him if they knew, and oh fuck what about his own dad, et cetera. The usual gay freakout stuff.

He knew it could be worse. He could be Brendon. Who, by the way, he knew had already done a lot more than just a little kiss; Ryan had had some tiny experiences, all meaningless and that made him feel nothing at all, so much so he didn't even count them, but Brendon had been through everything, even the drug stint he'd excitedly told Ryan about while Ryan internally panicked and wondered if the police were gonna show up in the middle of the night to drag his best friend away for selling, like, a goddamn gram. And he knew Brendon wasn't without shame at all - he never expressed it, of course, but Brendon had just as many doubts about God being not not real as he did otherwise, so surely with all of the perceived sins he'd racked up he thought there was a chance for supreme punishment. Ryan didn't know how to convey to him that that wasn't going to come, that he wasn't bad, that he was the best thing in Ryan's life, so on- so he didn't, really, just let him come to terms with his fears himself.

Ryan's anxiety passed fairly quickly. It took him no time at all to fall into romantic step with Brendon, and they were on the same page easily, sometimes mutually overcome with internalized guilt or shame but they could deal with that together anyway. Ryan was, oddly, the one more uncomfortable with showing it too much, or at least it seemed that way; they could be miles away from home, out in town, and he still wouldn't hold Brendon's hand in public. They could be in a completely empty corridor and he'd still turn all around to look for anyone listening when he called Brendon baby or vice versa. He started keeping his phone under even more lockdown than before - not that his dad even really interfered with his life at this point, but he was so paranoid that there was always a 'just in case' to argue. And, speaking of - he rarely let Brendon stay at his. They'd had this unspoken deal since forever (since Brendon's mom picked up on the smell of alcohol that hung off of Ryan's and his father's clothes and saw their home for herself, that is) that Brendon's house was the main meetup point, and Ryan's was, like, emergencies only. But he got a lot stricter about visits once it seemed like Ryan's dad could have a lot more reason to wail on them for something.

Anyway. He was nervous. But he liked Brendon so much that he put up with it all as best as he could, tried to just wait until they were both free from their homes, independent adults, then he could do what he wanted without worrying about either of them getting hurt in some way. Still, they weren't there yet, so he sidestepped Brendon at the door to maintain some semblance of secrecy and was met by pouting. He pouted right back, deliberately teasing Brendon's mastered puppy-dog look. Hi. Yeah, yeah, get over it. Ryan tried for forgiveness by reaching out, lightly running a few fingertips over the back of Brendon's hand, the beginning of holding it - only to have it snatched away. That’s too much homoerotic subtext for me. You’re in a Mormon household. That was actually terrifying. Ryan nearly let panic get the best of him, but honestly, Brendon wasn't an idiot, he wouldn't say that if they weren't alone. Ryan relaxed somewhat. "Drama queen."

He watched Brendon become animated, closing the door and running his hand through his hair, and had a mini-daydream about doing just that for him. Relax, they’re all out. Lucky you. Again, what, his thoughts were occupied; then Ryan caught up to speed, nodding quickly, relieved. This happened once in a blue moon. He was still a little on edge, given the fact that, y'know, maybe someone was hidden around here or whatever, but - not enough, because when Brendon leaned up fairly desperately to kiss him on the side of his face, Ryan tightened his jaw to suppress a smile, faint rosy spots rising high on his cheeks. "Quit," he protested, entirely too weakly to mean it, while he turned determinedly to the stairs again. Another hour and I would’ve died. Ryan entered his room still looking pleased about the kiss on his cheek, holding a hand against the side of his face sheepishly. Still not really listening. He muttered something like 'uh-huh,' always on Brendon about his dramatics, and circled around the room absently, restless from lying around all day.

Brendon, on the other hand, instantly dropped into bed like his body was lead. Ryan took his hand from his face and smiled fondly at the sight before turning to close to the door, twisting the handle so it clicked silently into place, and returned to Brendon on his side, facing him. Next time, you’re coming to church with me again. Ryan looked faux-thoughtful, as if this really took considering, and dropped into a crouch beside Brendon's bed, folding his arms over the side and resting his chin over his forearms where he could face Brendon directly. He let one arm reach out, thrown over Brendon's shoulder so he could run his fingers through his hair. "Why? So you can make more nasty comments under your breath during a whole sermon? Honestly, I'll just go sit with another family." He was grinning, kidding, but really. This was an issue. "One day you're gonna get caught making, like, a dick joke 'cause you have no volume control, and then we're both gonna get kicked out."

Evidently in a playful enough mood now to joke around, Ryan suddenly looked serious, hand resting on the side of Brendon's face to level with him. "And you know what, babe, I'm so ready to take that step with you. I'll come this Sunday." He broke his facade and grinned, suddenly making way to join Brendon on the bed despite the limited space. He clambered in, all sharp edges trying unsuccessfully not to prod Brendon, and stayed sitting up to dig around for a remote. Once retrieved, he pointed the power button at Brendon, commanding. "What's on our watch list?" If this was really a movie night. If not, their watch list was shit they'd definitely already seen, and the real activity was making out. Classy.

After their first kiss, that had consisted of Brendon spontaneously leaning forward after vaguely asking for permission, it was terrifyingly awkward. The immediate aftermath was, after a few moments, draw back on both sounds, Brendon making quick excuses, even apologising to his friend because god, what was he doing. Brendon wasn’t usually one to get flustered, but the bewildered/frightened expression on Ryan’s face wasn’t exactly reassuring, and he moved back to the edge of the bed, half ready to stand up and completely change the subject. After a few silent seconds, Ryan had just smiled weakly, and they both mutually agreed it was time for Ryan to go home, they’d speak tomorrow. They didn’t- there was a short span of silence from Ryan that Brendon didn’t try and break, but he sat at his window sometimes, elbows resting on the windowsill, watching Ryan’s window morosely, wondering whether he was ever going to open his blinds again. Brendon was used to just looking over and Ryan was, more often than not, looking back, or he appeared in a matter of moments. He was terrified that he’d ruined his relationship with his best friend.

Ryan seemed to come around, though, and asked Brendon if he could come over a few days after- obviously, Brendon eagerly agreed, and minutes later they were both sat on Brendon’s bed again, awkwardly talking about it. They came to the earnest and slightly petrifying conclusion that they both liked eachother, they’d enjoyed that brief kiss, they wanted more where that came from. So they did it again, a little more sure this time. They were still skittish- Brendon’s family was in a time, but for a few moments, Brendon felt a new swell in his chest, a new relationship, the joy of a teenage crush. From that, it wasn’t easy, but it became easier; they were more or less completely comfortable with eachother, despite Brendon’s semi-frequent sense of guilt and shame that he, at first, didn’t mention. There was also the problem with their parents- Brendon’s parents opinions on it were obvious, they weren’t reserved about sharing their bigoted views with their children, and as for Ryan’s Dad, Brendon really didn’t have any idea. Ryan didn’t talk about him enough for Brendon to have a good enough picture, but from the way that Ryan was even more strict about having Brendon over, he could make a good guess that it wasn’t exactly positive. So they snuck around, made it work, even if Brendon was more inclined to risk it these days and make casual euphemisms and pointed comments just to watch his boyfriend squirm.

Ryan squirmed a lot- he refused to hold Brendon’s hand in public even where nobody could possibly know who they were; he was always looking over his shoulder; he elbowed Brendon in the ribs when he made any kind of comment with particular subtext; even now, when Brendon assured him that they were home alone, he was glancing around, paranoid. Brendon knew how he felt, but he cared less and less these days- so when he reached for Ryan’s hand at any time they weren’t alone and Ryan sort of swerved him completely, he did feel a little hurt. But he couldn’t say much- so he just grit his teeth and moved on, wondering when the hell- or if the hell- Ryan would ever be comfortable with such displays of affection, even after they were independent adults. He tried not to think about it too much. Drama Queen. ”Says you,” Brendon accused quickly. Vengeful, he behaved melodramatically when Ryan went to lightly brush his hand, and snickered at the expression of terror that crossed Ryan’s face. He watched his boyfriend tense up and then relax, and felt a rush of affection, because he was a dumbass. Driven by this, he followed Ryan to the stairs and leaned up to press a quick kiss on his cheek that was obviously received well, from the look on Ryan’s face and the red flush rising against his cheekbones.

Quit. Brendon grinned, and then sidestepped past him to race up the stairs. Once in his room, he dropped on the bed and manoeuvred so he could watch Ryan shut the door. He lifted his eyebrows suggestively, teasing. ”Wow, want some privacy?” His eyes followed Ryan as he paced across the room for a little while, and then they lit up along with his smile when he dropped down by the bed next to him. He closed his eyes when Ryan reached out and started carding his fingers gently through his hair. Why? So you can make more nasty comments under your breath during a whole sermon? Honestly, I’ll just go and sit with another family. Brendon clicked his tongue, turning onto his back and considering the ceiling. ”Okay, but then who else would give you a boner during a sermon?” He laughed, joking, towards the end of that, not bothering to look for a reaction from Ryan because honestly, he could already picture his face in his mind. One day you’re gonna get caught making, like, a dick joke ‘cause you have no volume control, and we’re both gonna get kicked out.

Brendon couldn’t argue with that. He just turned back onto his side and shrugged. ”Worth it, though, huh? Say yes.” And you know what, babe, I’m so ready to take that step with you. I’ll come this Sunday. Brendon smiled triumphantly and moved so there was a little more space for Ryan on his bed. Brendon watched with raised eyebrows as Ryan searched for the remote, and then blinked when it was pointed commandingly at him. What’s on our watch list? A pause, and Brendon took the remote, turning on the TV and sitting up, leaning his back against Ryan’s chest as he waited for Netflix to load. Giving up a few moments later, he handed the remote to Ryan and shrugged his shoulders. ”I’m not sure. Decidedly, he settled back further against Ryan’s chest, started absently playing with the strings of his hoodie, clearly disinterested in what they were going to watch- or rather, let play in the background. He wished he could steal one of his hoodies, but that would be way too obvious. ”Put on whatever you want.” Turning around, his eyes searched Ryan’s face and he leaned in to kiss him, but barely, lips just brushing against his. ”You’re cute. I missed you.”

It was a little odd that Ryan was the one more obviously uncomfortable with the idea of them, or at least them being exposed; after all, he hadn't been fed opinions and rules all his life, and yet he was enforcing them for himself anyway. No one had ever outright told him to think a certain way about anything, but he attended public school and definitely picked up on how his peers felt about different issues - especially when other boys were totally comfortable calling each other different slurs and insulting one another based primarily on sexuality. The reason he evaded Brendon after their first kiss, though, wasn't just that; he was actually scared for his friend. What if he got caught? He'd heard horror stories of families disowning their kids for much less. And if it wasn't that, Brendon would at least get hurt, and Ryan had never had to help that large of a wound heal. Ryan wasn't even as scared of his own dad's potential reaction as he was of Brendon's family's.

But Brendon was sort of reckless, didn't seem to care much about what could happen to him, so maybe it was good that Ryan worried for the both of them. Says you. True. Ryan was sort of incredibly dramatic when he needed to be. Even still, he didn't like the accusation, so he raised his eyebrows at Brendon, affronted. Since they were both evidently in a dumb lovestruck mood, he wisely shut the door - only to be received by Brendon grinning all-knowingly. Wow, want some privacy? "Yes," Ryan replied, half exasperated, but he was still smiling brazenly, so it couldn't've been all that bad. He joined Brendon beside the bed shortly after, still unsure about joining him even after years of having been that close just platonically, but he supposed that's what change did to a person. In any case, he was moving past the timid stage slowly but surely, for the time being just allowing his fingers to drag through Brendon's hair gently.

An expert at navigating Brendon's jokes by now, he tried supplying his own, only to find that he could be bested again. Okay, but then who else would give you a boner during a sermon? Ryan looked at Brendon's profile, all he could see, with something akin to horror, and clutched the edge of the mattress. "Hey, gross, that hasn't actually happened. Don't abuse your power over me," he laughed after a pause to recuperate, shoving Brendon lightly by the shoulder in retaliation. Brendon faced him again moments later, apparently taking no issue with Ryan calling him on his very inappropriate house-of-God behavior. Worth it, though, huh? Say yes. Ryan sighed, long-suffering, and studied him for a few beats. "Yeah, fine, you're worth everything. I hate it." He suppressed a smile that threatened to accompany his pretend-sadness while he clambered over, easily slotting into the space Brendon made for him.

After a few moments, Brendon responded to Ryan pointing the remote at him, accepting it as if he'd actually been activated. Ryan caught him when he leaned back, wrapping his arms around his waist and smoothing his hands over his chest absently while he watched the screen change. It took basically no time at all for him to give in, and the remote was back in Ryan's hand. I’m not sure. Ryan blinked, leaned over his shoulder to look at him while he played with Ryan's hoodie toggles. "I see, you never had anything in mind in the first place. Sneaky." Ryan sat back after kissing his cheek amusedly, flicking through again blankly. It really wasn't like they were going to watch, but if he admitted to that by picking at random or not picking at all, well. That'd be admitting they were as useless as they seemed. So.

Put on whatever you want. "Hm," Ryan murmured, not paying attention, eyes fixed still on the screen while Brendon just barely kissed him. Still looking past him, he chased his lips, to no avail. You're cute. I missed you. Decidedly, Ryan landed on their 'Watch It Again' list, and of course Ferris Bueller was the supreme choice. He dropped the remote on the mattress and actually turned his attention to Brendon, hands fitting back around his waist naturally. "So you've said. I wonder if we'll ever be the kind of people who can go a whole day not seeing one another and be fine." Regardless, his hands still lifted to frame Brendon's face, brushing hair back and looking him over fondly. He lowered his voice, not really thinking about it. "But, I missed you too. Obviously." Ryan shifted to holding the back of his neck and his shoulder, kissing him properly finally, and withheld the urge to audibly congratulate himself on no longer making this weird every time. "I'll just move in here and we won't have this problem again. Look, your twin bed perfectly fits both of us, it's fine."

If Brendon had never been curious about it all, or exposed to the ‘sin’ of homosexuality, he doubted that his parents would have even mentioned it at all, or provided him the apparent divine wisdom of God, which was just code for horrendous bigotry he was supposed to live his life by and not question. They’d have preferred that he not even know what being gay was- but he did, he’d been told about it at school, he’d been called certain slurs, and he’d asked what they mean. He would go home, curious, uncomfortable but fascinated, and ask his mother- mom, can men marry men? Can women marry women? And of course the reaction was discomfort and awkwardness from his parents, followed by Brendon being told to go upstairs for a bit, your father and I need to talk. And then he was called down and told that though people might try to tell him otherwise, homosexuality was a sin, marriage was for a man and a woman and for a man and a woman only. ‘Hate the sin, not the sinner’, he was told- and at first, that made sense to him. But the more he thought about it, the more he felt distant from the idea of marrying a woman and having kids, the less he understood. When he was still religious, he’d pray, ask God why, exactly, being gay wasn’t allowed, but he’d also reassure God that he wasn’t. After that, he began to listen more in church (when he was younger he’d fidget and become distracted even more easily, and he barely understood what was being said to him anyway), and he payed attention when, during sermons, the sin of homosexuality was mentioned, how traditional families and their values were the only way to live a life without sin. Brendon’s initial curiosity and fascination grew into a deep discomfort he felt within himself. Something wasn’t right with this whole picture, and he knew it.

So, he knew he was gay. It was easy to say that, but it took him a long time to accept- and even after that, after he and Ryan decided with excited, teenage, lovestruck grins that they were boyfriends, they both felt inward shame, and for Brendon, it was deep-seated, because everything he’d ever been taught told him that this was wrong, against God, even disgusting. Funnily enough, though, Brendon became increasingly comfortable a lot faster than Ryan did, who didn’t even really know exactly what his dad thought about it and hadn’t been raised on such bigotry. Even so, he still wouldn’t hold Brendon’s hand in public. He’d still sometimes make it just a little awkward, reject any of Brendon’s affection, even platonically motivated, that could he interpreted as romantic. It didn’t really help Brendon’s internalised sense of guilt and shame that resurfaced every so often to make him miserable, but Brendon understood. Of course he did. Better than anyone. He was just more reckless, defiant, began to care less what his parents thought and played dangerously with fire, risking being discovered by making suggestive comments and picking sensitive fights and questioning what his parents and pastors said. Of course, it terrified Ryan. He had more than a few bruises on his legs and shins where Ryan had kicked him under the table.

They were okay, though. It became easier and felt more natural with every passing day, and today, they had Brendon’s house to themselves- for a little while, anyway. Brendon intended to take full advantage of that- and apparently, so did Ryan. Yes. Brendon grinned. ”Well, you read my fuckin’ mind. He closed his eyes when Ryan ran his fingers through his hair, before turning onto his back to tease Ryan irritatingly in a way that clearly Ryan didn’t find amusing. Hey, gross, that hasn’t actually happened. Don’t abuse your power over me. Brendon giggled when Ryan shoved his shoulder, and turned onto his side. ”Gross? Really? And, is that a challenge?” A pause for effect. Brendon’s voice was equal part teasing and serious- Ryan could never really tell whether he was totally serious or just having him on. He was just that unpredictable. ”I wouldn’t say I have a power over you. When I can turn you on in Church, that’s when I’ll be sure.” He was laughing to himself when Ryan climbed over him onto the bed. Yeah, fine, you’re worth everything. I hate it.

Brendon seemed very pleased with himself, relaxing easily against Ryan’s chest and into his arms, happily greeted by Ryan’s arms looping around his waist and his hands flat against his chest. Brendon passed his boyfriend the remote so he could focus more on him and not what movie they were going to pretend they wanted to watch and then just play as background noise to them making out. Classy. I see, you never had anything in mind in the first place. Brendon smiled when Ryan kissed his cheek, then tugged a little harder at his hoodie toggle. ”Actually, I had you in mind,” He corrected, voice a little softer. Hm. He turned around, barely kissed him, searched his face while Ryan half-heartedly searched for a movie. He watched as Ryan dropped the remote and paused for a second to listen out for his choice- Ferris Bueller. They’d watched this a thousand times. Perfect. Brendon shifted closer as Ryan fit his hands around his waist, leaning up. So you've said. I wonder if we'll ever be the kind of people who can go a whole day not seeing one another and be fine. Brendon highly doubted it.

Brendon didn’t stop looking at him when Ryan lifted his hands to frame his face and pushed some hair back out of his eyes, just sort of leaned forwards and up as if waiting for Ryan to kiss him. But, I missed you too. Obviously. Brendon grinned, infatuated. ”Kiss me like you missed me?” Ryan probably wasn’t listening, but Brendon received his kiss anyway, moving his arms to throw over his shoulders and chasing his mouth when he pulled back, trailing off distractedly towards the corner of his mouth and his jaw when Ryan began to speak again. I'll just move in here and we won't have this problem again. Look, your twin bed perfectly fits both of us, it's fine. Brendon nodded, kissed him again, not too urgent, but not exactly leisurely. They were teenagers, lovesick, and impatient. Brendon, for once, wasn’t really a fan of excessive talking. ”That sounds like a great idea. We can ‘watch movies’ every night.” Brendon grinned against his skin, then moved his hands, one curling around Ryan’s upper arm, the other hanging on to the zipper of his hoodie and playing with it absently. ”How aren’t you, like, dying?” He asked between kisses, even deciding to bite gently on his bottom lip. ”It’s warm as hell in here.”

/

Ryan knew his protective streak hurt Brendon, on occasion. When he pushed him away a bit, or distanced himself personally, to make sure that no one could catch him and ridicule him somehow (or worse), it was to protect Brendon. But, of course, while it was painful to step back from showing affection to someone he had so much affection for, Ryan knew it must feel worse on Brendon's end - almost as if he was rejecting him. What would hurt Brendon more than any of that, though, would be the repercussions of someone finding out, his parents knowing, the entire church knowing - and there were plenty of possibilities there. He'd be alienated instantly, scrutinized and judged and being told there were better paths, he could 'find God again,' or - and Ryan's second worst fear - he'd be disowned like so many in the same situation had been before him. His absolute worst was that maybe Brendon would be so desperate to escape all of the hatred and bigotry that he did break things off with Ryan, at least until both of them could leave and go somewhere far, far away from here.

So he continued doing whatever he could to hide it, enough for the both of them, because he wanted Brendon to stay safe and stable more than anything. 'Stable' may not be the exact right word to use here considering he lived most of every day with a family he didn't quite fit in with, in a home that probably felt suffocating and trapping, otherwise at a church that preached against him and continually enforced rules he could not keep up with, otherwise at school where he received a mixture of judgments from particularly bold students - so on. The situation was just... dire, at this point. Ryan tried his best to make up for the deeply upsetting circumstances Brendon was stuck in by being at his side as often as possible, caring for him as openly as he could, holding his hand all the way through (well, metaphorically, when eyes were on them). Whenever his mind drifted to it, he reminded the both of them that someday they'd be on their own, doing whatever the hell they wanted, in love and safe from everything that threatened them before.

Well, you read my fuckin’ mind. Ryan raised his eyebrows, tempted to be annoying and say something like 'language,' and decided against it. Brendon clearly didn't care as much about not being annoying. Gross? Really? And, is that a challenge? Ryan squinted at him incomprehensively, wondering whether that was really a question or if he was being fucked with, and decided that just in case he would answer seriously. "No," he said in a firm tone, then cracked up a little, shaking his head at Brendon's ridiculousness. I wouldn’t say I have a power over you. When I can turn you on in Church, that’s when I’ll be sure. Ryan shushed him while he laughed to himself, clearly carefree. "All right, stop before I start having nightmares about it, thanks." But he was laughing, too, Brendon's amusement infectious as usual.

Even despite him being especially obnoxious today, Ryan held him close, shutting his eyes briefly and basking in the familiar scent, touch, everything. Actually, I had you in mind. Oh. Ryan wondered how he moved so seamlessly between being a little shit and being charming as all hell like this. He smiled against his hair, couldn't help it, embracing him slightly more tightly at the sudden swell in his chest. "Cute," he murmured, appreciative of the far cry from 'I'll give you a boner in church' version of his boyfriend from moments ago. He felt Brendon's eyes on him while his own were trained to the screen and couldn't help the tiny curl of his lips, trying desperately not to react so obviously. He couldn't have picked something sooner. Remote abandoned, he finally met Brendon's gaze, thinking that for just about the grossest person Ryan knew, he was also shockingly the sweetest.

So much so, in fact, that it threw Ryan off his game every time. He was leaning in and up a little, so obviously waiting for a kiss that Ryan was reserving for after he complained about their brief distance. Kiss me like you missed me? Fonder than ever, Ryan did, relaxing against him once Brendon's arms were strewn over his shoulders. While he spoke, the smile that rose to his face when Brendon's kisses trailed off to the side translated into his voice, soft and appreciative and almost-laughing. That sounds like a great idea. We can ‘watch movies’ every night. Ryan tried so hard not to think about or comment on the fact that maybe soon they'd be moving together and doing that anyway, and it'd be a place of their own, it'd look how they want and everything. He only succeeded on the latter, nodding distractedly in agreement.

When Brendon's hands moved so did his own, running absently down his back like a half-assed attempt at being a masseur. How aren’t you, like, dying? Ryan had no idea what he was talking about for a good three seconds, too focused on the kisses, his eyes slipping shut and mind turning off, at peace. It's warm as hell in here. Ryan didn't feel it. The less sleep you got, the lower your body temperature dropped, and Ryan was definitely a vampire of sorts. He leaned back obligingly, breaking a kiss with no warning, and unzipped his jacket, shrugging it off easily. This was probably an elaborate plan for Brendon to steal it, but whatever. Let him have it. "Good point," he said, leaning in again and wrapping himself even closer around Brendon. "You're warm, anyway." His mind drifted again, and he couldn't stop himself; it probably didn't matter. "Hey, think about it - instead of me moving in here, one day we'll have a place of our own. Watching movies every night, me stealing your warmth every day. How about that?" He was speaking between kisses as they tended to, punctuating with a longer, more intimate one, before pulling back slightly to level with Brendon's gaze.