900 Thousand Times I Would...

It was Team Rydon's turn to go shopping for food. The pair had arrived at the Publix, looking around at the stocked shelves with determination. This was their mission: to get junk food.

"Ry, can I sit in the cart?" Brendon asked sweetly, batting his eyelashes.

Ryan sighed. "Sure," he mumbled.

Brendon, grinning like a kid on Christmas, climbed into the metal cart and pulled his knees up to his chest so he could fit. He was happy when he got what he wanted. Which was usually always.

Ryan looked down at Brendon, who was looking back up at him with his wide, brown eyes. "You enjoy this, don't you?" he asked.

Brendon frowned. "Enjoy what?" he questioned.

Ryan began to push the cart and headed into the refrigerated section. "Making me give you what you want," he finally replied, grabbing a jug of milk and putting it near Brendon's feet. Brendon always had some way of getting what he wanted out of him: a smile, a pout, a hand clasping his own. Brendon just had a way of tying everyone around his finger; he was devious.

Brendon thought this over for a moment, his full pink lips contorting into an odd shape. "You don't have to give me what I want," he decided.

"Ya right," Ryan chuckled, pushing him into the pasta aisle. He leaned down and grabbed several boxes of macaroni and cheese. He made sure he grabbed the Spiderman shaped ones for Brendon.

"See? I didn't even ask you to get me those. You just did it. So don't tell me I make you do anything," Brendon pouted, turning his head to look away from Ryan.

Ryan sighed. "Would you relax? We have to make this trip last long as possible so we don't catch Joncer in the act," he reminded him.

Brendon didn't answer him, but simply picked at his nails quietly.

Ryan felt an aching in his chest as he pushed on. He felt guilty for saying anything. He liked giving Brendon what he wanted. He liked making him happy. Brendon did everything for him too, and he was just sounding ungrateful. He hadn't meant to say it that way; he was just trying to figure out why Brendon had such a large hold over him. He had to find a way to apologize. He didn't think he could live with Brendon being mad at him.

He grabbed the needed necessities and everything he knew Brendon wanted but wouldn't ask for now. Strolling in the frozen food section, he looked at the glass doors that kept the TV dinners hostage.

He looked down at Brendon, who appeared to be looking at nothing. He was somber, and Ryan didn't like it. Brendon was usually never this quiet. "I'm sorry," Ryan mumbled. "I didn't meet to hurt your feelings."

Brendon still didn't look at him. "It's okay," he replied.

"No, it's not. I was a jerk, and you don't deserve that after everything you've done for me. I was just trying to figure out... why I care so much, I guess," Ryan admitted. "And don't take that the wrong way... I'm just saying... Shit, just forget it."

Brendon looked up at him, chuckling slightly. "Don't worry, I get you," he told him.

Ryan smiled slightly. He always did. They had a way of reading each other that a lot of other people didn't understand or didn't take the time to. "You want ice cream?" he questioned.

Brendon grinned and nodded. Just like that, everything was forgiven.

* * * *

After putting everything in the car, they leaned against the truck of the car in the summer heat. The sun streamed mercilessly into their faces; thankfully they had their sunglasses on. Brendon handed Ryan the small wrapped package containing a cookie ice cream sandwich they had pulled out of the box of them they had bought.

Ryan took it, watching as Brendon opened his own. He slid it out and bit into the two cookies, the vanilla ice cream in the middle beginning to ooze out of the other side. Bren then frustratedly licked the ice cream so none would be wasted by falling on the ground.

Ryan shook his head to himself and opened up his own, taking a small bite off the corner. Ah, summer. The time of ice cream dreams and puppy love. The heat does crazy things to people, they say. Leaning his head on Brendon's shoulder, he sighed happily. This was the way it should be all the time; no worries, no regrets. Just a guy and his best friend soaking in the warm sunshine.

Brendon turned to look at Ryan, able to see his nose from his position. He counted the freckles there. Six of them were scattered there carelessly; Ryan only got them during the summer, then they went away. They were so faint you couldn't see them unless you were immensely close, like Brendon was.

So they sat there, finishing their half-melted ice creams and looking at the clouds, trying to find objects in their shapes.

"That one kind of looks like a horse," Ryan mumbled, pointing to the cotton candy blue sky.

"Or a deer..." Brendon trailed off, looking closer.

"Mmhmm," Ryan agreed, crumpling up the ice cream wrapper and shoving it off-handedly into the pocket of his pants.

"Ooh, a sea monkey!" Brendon squealed, pointing to the sky. "You ever have them as a kid?"

"Nope," Ryan answered, still comfortable with his head Brendon's shoulder.

"I did. I was like twelve or thirteen I think... and I begged for them for Christmas. My mom rolled her eyes and said I was too old, but I got them anyways. They actually lived for a good two and a half weeks," Brendon told him.

"So they're actually alive?"

"Ya, dude, they have to be. They actually swam around and stuff. I always forgot to feed them... so that's probably why they died."

"Hmm. Maybe we should buy some and take care of them together, like a joint parentship," Ryan suggested.

"Can I be the daddy?" Brendon asked excitedly.

Ryan pouted. "You're going to make me be the mommy?"

Brendon looked down at his friend's face and sighed. "I'll be the mommy," he caved.

"Woot!" Ryan exclaimed.

Brendon rolled his eyes. Who was being the child now? "You think we should get back?"

"Probably," Ryan answered.

The pair got into the car. Brendon started it up, immediately cranking the AC. "You know when I said we should go to Disney World?" he asked, somewhat randomly.

"Uhuh," Ryan returned, of course he remembered. It had only been yesterday.

"I think we should go."

"When?"

Brendon looked at him through a rusted smile. "Tomorrow."