If I Told You I Loved You, How Far Would You Run?

We might be quarreling and unhappy with each other from the incident at lunch, but that doesn’t stop Ryan and I from curling up together in my bed tonight as we fall asleep.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says softly as we change into our pajamas. I guess I’ve given up sleeping nude forever. But it’s so worth it. “What I said at lunch.”

“You didn’t mean that you weren’t talking about yourself?” I ask, dully. “Or didn’t mean that you wanted me back?”

He doesn’t answer, and I turn around to glare at him, but once I see his face, I can’t muster up the anger.

“I hate myself,” he whispers, eyes stretched wide with fear. “I hate, hate, hate myself.”

He looks so broken and all I want to do is fix him.

“Why?” I ask gently, taking him in my arms.

He shakes and sniffles in my warm embrace. “Because I’m so awful to you,” Ryan says.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am!” he says furiously, hands clenching and unclenching, face pressed into my chest. “I tell you that I love you but only as best friends and then I make it seem like I love you romantically and then I tell you that it’s all shit and I hate myself!”

“Don’t hate yourself,” I plead softly and we look into each other’s eyes, both on the verge of tears, and then we’re leaning in towards each other, lips about to meet when—

BANG!

“OMIGAWD!”

Ryan and I hastily pull away from each other to see Jon standing in my doorway, mouth dropped open in shock.

“What?” Ryan asks defensively.

“You—you—you … you’re cheating on your girlfriend!” Jon squeals. “With Brendon!”

Ryan doesn’t say anything, just sort of gapes at Jon, like he’s only just realizing that the few kisses we’ve shared do indeed count as “cheating on your girlfriend.”

“No, he’s not,” I say, getting to my feet. “Ryan was just feeling down and I was comforting him because we’re best friends. That’s all there is to it.”

Jon raises his eyebrows at me. “Best friends who were about to kiss?” he asks.

“That’s all there is to it,” I repeat firmly. “Now—out!”

Throwing one last glance, Jon leaves my room and I slam the door closed behind him. “And stay out!” I huff under my breath before returning to Ryan’s side.

“I … Am I really cheating on her, Bren?” Ryan asks in a small voice.

“Ehhh …”

He smiles sadly when he hears my answer. “I guess that’s a yes, then,” he says and his eyes shoot up to my face. “And you know what the really sad thing is?” he asks.

The sad thing is … you don’t even like your girlfriend. You don’t even like the person you’re cheating on her with. You don’t even want a relationship, runs through my mind and I just shake my head.

“I don’t think I’m even bothered by it,” Ryan says with a lazy smile and reaches his arms around my neck before kissing me.

This is like heaven to me. It’s like heaven but not quiet, and I push away from Ryan, from the boy of my dreams. “Well, I’m bothered by it,” I say firmly.

“Wh-what?”

“Cheating isn’t fair, Ryan,” I say and he gives me a well, duh look. “It’s not fair to any of us. It’s not fair to Keltie, who I’m sure believes you to be the perfect boyfriend who never—gasp!—cheat on her. And it’s not fair to me, because I love you and you know it and you’re willing to screw around with me but you’re not willing to commit to me. And it sure as hell ain’t fair to you, Ryan, because you’re gonna end up torn in two.”

He pulls back, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again and staring right through me with that sad gaze of his that just kills me. “You really make me sound like a scumbag when you say it that way,” he says and I frown because that wasn’t what I meant. “But … but I think it’s too late. I think I’m already torn in two.”

“I wish I could pick up all your pieces and put you back together until you’re whole again,” I tell him softly.

“I wish I could let you,” he whispers back and that’s how we fall asleep that night, holding each other and dreaming of a world where we’ll always be safe.

* * *

“Uhn, uhn, uhn, uhn.”

I wake in the middle of the night to these weird, little, panting moans, and Ryan’s slender form draped over my chest.

“Uhn, uuh, mm.”

“Ryan?” I ask, raising my head slightly. “Are you awake?”

“Mm, uhn, uhn, uhn, nnnh!”

I guess not, I think, shifting slightly under his body and suddenly it hits me like a dick in the hip why Ryan’s moaning.

Oh god.

My best friend, my crush, Ryan Ross is having a wet dream in my bed. On top of me.

Holy fucking shit!

Now, is the standard procedure in this situation to wake the said wet dreamer or to try to go back to sleep and pretend this never happened? Well gee, I don’t know.

“Mmh, nnyeah,” Ryan mumbles, burrowing his face in my neck, and I know that there is absolutely no way I will be able to fall back asleep with this happening on top of me.

“Ryan,” I say gently, shifting back and forth in an attempt to wake up. “Ryry. Ryro. Wake up, Ryan. Please? Ry!”

“Nnh!” With one final pant-moan-gasp-thing, Ryan opens his eyes and his golden eyes glitter like luminescent orbs in the dark as he stares at me with a lustful gaze. “Brendon?”

Oh dear god, I think just as he lunges for me, crashing our lips together. It’s the middle of the night and Ryro’s feeling horny.

But I don’t resist his kiss—no, I kiss right back, working my lips against his until I feel his tongue grazing my bottom lip. My lips part of their own accord and Ryan’s tongue slips right inside.

It feels so right and it feels so wrong and that’s when I realize that maybe I don’t want Ryan if I can never have all of him.