You're Right That It's Wrong To Spend the Night Alone

Ryan and Brendon were bandmates, best friends, and occasional lovers.
Brendon was happy with the occasional fuck.
But Ryan, fuck, Ryan wanted so much more.

Brendon lay beside Ryan, breathing heavily, and hummed happily.

Ryan felt a salty tear trail down his cheek and he turned away from Brendon, cuddling himself in the sheets.

"Ryan?" Brendon whispered as he regained control of his breathing.

Ryan's heart sparked. "Yeah, Bren?"

"You're so good in bed." Brendon rubbed a hand on Ryan's hip.

Ryan's chin quivered and another tear fell. "Thanks," he whispered hoarsely.

"Ry? You okay?" Brendon sounded concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ryan lied easily, brushing away a tear, still hoarse from the lump in his throat.

"No, you're not," Brendon whispered, and wrapped his arms around Ryan, stroking his bare chest.

Ryan sighed and snuggled into Brendon's embrace. "I just want to feel loved, Bren," he muttered.

Brendon paused. "I know how you feel," he whispered, and kissed Ryan's ear. "But for now, this'll have to do." He held Ryan tighter and nuzzled his face into Ryan's hair.

Ryan fell asleep crying.