Strictly Under the Influence

Ryan's going out of his mind with nerves when Spencer's lady friend comes over. He's wearing a nice white button-up shirt and a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans. Brendon's putting soft kisses on his cheeks and neck and assuring him he looks great. Brendon, himself, is wearing a light blue button-up shirt and a pair of black jeans. “Why are we even dressing up? It's our house, not hers,” Ryan asks, looking in Brendon's full-length mirror for the billionth time that night.

“Because, Spencer's been working so hard he hasn't had the time for a girlfriend and it's only appropriate that we dress up,” the dark haired boy sighs. He takes Ryan's hand and pulls him out of the bedroom and into the living room to wait for Spencer's date.

Ryan fiddled with his hands, Brendon tapped his foot, and Spencer whistled while making dinner until the doorbell rang. “I'll get it,” Spencer says eagerly. He jumps up from his seat and all but bounces to the front door. “Hey, Hayley,” he sighs, “Come in.” He steps aside and in walks a pretty chestnut-blonde. In the pit of Ryan's stomach, he feels jealous of Spencer. Her hair is tousled just enough to give off the look that she didn't spend hours in front of the mirror preparing for this. Her make-up is flawless and it almost looks like she hasn't any on. She's wearing a modern mid-thigh dress that flaunts her petite hourglass figure with a deep circular neckline and sleeves that extend down to the crooks of her elbows. The dress itself is white with a thick black band around the smallest part of her torso. From there it floats away from her body, giving her a mysterious, yet innocent look.

“Take a seat, the food is almost ready,” Spencer says as he disappears into the kitchen again.

As if Ryan's feelings couldn't be anymore mixed up, Hayley takes a seat where Spencer was sitting and offers a small smile to both, him and Brendon. “I'm Brendon,” Brendon says extending his hand.

She shakes it and replies with a sweet, musical sounding voice saying, “Nice to meet you, Brendon. I'm Hayley.”

Ryan feels a nudge in his side and he turns to her. “I'm Ryan,” he says. He shakes her open hand and says, “Pleasure to meet you.”

_

Spencer made lasagna with actual meat this time. It's been a while since Ryan's had meat, due to Brendon's vegetarianism. He made Brendon a Caesar Salad, though, without all the meat that usually comes with it. Ryan looks down at the awfully big bite he has on his fork while Spencer talks to Hayley and Brendon steals glances and him, most of which Ryan catches and smirks to Brendon.

But he's looking at the heap of lasagna he has on his fork to make sure it goes into his mouth. So, obviously, he doesn't see Brendon watching him. Ryan carefully puts the food into his mouth and starts to chew, hoping nothing spills onto himself.

Not everyone gets what they want.

As soon as Ryan goes to grab his drink, something warm slips further down his shirt. And when he looks to see what it is. It's a lasagna noodle. He takes his napkin and picks it off, then hurries to the bathroom to clean it off so it won't stain. “Brendon,” he says when the door opens, because honestly, who else would it be?

He starts to unbutton his shirt as Brendon appears in the mirror. “Is it bad?” Brendon asks, “Do you need to soak it?”

Ryan shakes his head. “I got it out, I just need to wash it now,” he stated. Brendon followed Ryan to his room to get another shirt with him and sits on the bed. “Brendon,” he says again, “how did you know you were for sure gay?”

The younger boy was seemingly taken aback by his question and remains quiet. Then he stands up and places his hands on Ryan's slender hips. “Tell me something,” Brendon says, then he kisses Ryan softly. “Did you like that?” Ryan nods, not exactly sure where he's going with this, but indifferent, all the same. “Did you like it more than when you kissed Jac?” Ryan thinks about it. Then he thinks some more about what he knows he likes and what he thinks he likes. Finally, he nods slowly. “You're gay,” Brendon states like it's the weather.

100% Sexuality confusion with a hint of lust for Brendon.

“But,” Ryan starts, “I still feel attracted to girls.” Brendon gets this weird look in his eyes and Ryan thinks he may have said the wrong thing, but he only faintly reconciled the thought. “Brendon,” he says, “I don't think I'm gay.”

_

It's really awkward now. Spencer was mad that he and Brendon basically ditched dinner and says he won't ever bring another girl over. Even if he and Brendon did apologize a million times.

Ryan and Brendon still sit in the living room on Saturday mornings and watch cartoons. But then again, it's only the Saturday after, so Ryan doesn't know if it'll continue. “Brendon, are you mad at me because I said I thought I wasn't gay?”

Brendon shakes his head, but still stares aimlessly at the TV. “Brendon,” Ryan says, a little aggravated now, “are you mad at me at all?” He shrugs this time. Ryan groans, a little more than fed up with Brendon's childish games. “Brendon, just because I said I wasn't gay doesn't mean I don't like you-because I still do,” he said, injecting as much sincerity as he could muster in the situation.

Turning off the TV, Brendon turns to him and says, “I'm not mad at you, just confused that you would say you liked my kisses more than Jac's and then go and say you don't think you're gay, Ryan. Because, quiet honestly, it's obvious you are.” Ryan starts to roll his eyes and ask how on Earth is it obvious, but then Brendon interrupts with, “First of all, you're girly looking. Wearing eyeliner and tight clothes certainly don't help that. You act more conservative and shy around guys. With girls, you're charming and intelligent and this whole other person. It's just obvious that you're more comfortable spilling your problems to Jac than to me or Spencer.”

“I've know Jac longer than you or Spencer and yeah, I'll admit I'm lanky and I wear make-up, but that doesn't make me girly looking,” he says incredulously. He starts to say more, but Brendon turns back to the TV and doesn't say another word.

_

Ryan's at work. Brendon's curled up in his bed, trying to find comfort in his comforter. Without any luck. But really, what did he expect? It's not alive. He hugs it closer anyways and waits for Spencer to get worried enough to check on him.

Brendon's only faintly aware that Spencer's not home. He faintly remembers Spencer coming in and telling him that he was going out. But then again, he just could have imagined it to make himself think Spencer was out so it would be okay to show his feelings.

In the midst of Brendon's abstract thoughts, there's a knock that brings him out of his reverie. "Come in," he says, his voice hoarse from disuse.

Ryan's head pokes in and Brendon wonders how long he's been holed up in his room. Glancing at the clock as Ryan says, "Hey." Brendon sees it's about four p.m. And figures he's been in his room for sixteen hours. "Brendon, are you okay? You look awful-no offense," Ryan says, sitting on the edge of his bed.

Brendon blinks at him and nods, thinking, why does he care? Why in the world does Ryan care? He's not gay. He doesn't like guys. He probably doesn't even like Brendon.

And Brendon wonders what he's doing chasing a lost cause. He says, "Don't you get off work at three?" Ryan nods and looks at Brendon as though he's being interrogated. "Then why did you just get home?"

"I stopped by a friends place," Ryan answers enigmatically. Brendon rolls over and hopes Ryan will leave, because all he wants is a nap right now.

But then Ryan places a hand on Brendon's hip and squeezes gently. Brendon feels the bed shift and then, what he assumes to be Ryan's, lips press softly against the side of his head and he whispers, "I'm sorry, Brendon."

And Brendon wonders where the hell this Ryan was when he was in need of comfort. He still is, but isn't going to say anything.