Kitten

They weren’t boyfriends.

“Best friends with benefits,” Ryan would say with a provocative grin every time someone asked, but Brendon secretly wanted to be more.

Brendon dropped Ryan off at the back of Interact Theatre on Friday and promised that he’d be back for the show.

“Good,” Ryan said and kissed Brendon on the cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

There was a smile on Brendon’s face as he drove off and a bouquet of roses, Ryan’s favorite, in his hands when he pulled back into the theatre parking lot that evening.

Ryan was a dazzling Lucy, perfectly tragic and beautiful and sexy as a pseudo-vampire bride, and his eyes strayed to Brendon, sitting in middle of the first with a handful of roses and a bright smile, more than once during the play.

“Kitten, you were amazing!” Brendon cried, throwing his arms around Ryan and handing him the roses.

“Thank you,” Ryan breathed and dropped a quick kiss on Brendon’s lips before pulling away and running backstage to change out of his costume.

“Are you her boyfriend?” a curious bystander asked and Brendon wasn’t sure how to answer. “You’re lucky,” the man continued, “to have such a wonderful girlfriend. You know? She’s a real catch—don’t let her go.”

Brendon blushed and gave the man a small smile before running off to the restroom and throwing up in the handicapped stall.

“Bren? You in here?” Ryan asked, walking into the restroom and Brendon knew that he was back to be Ryan—just Ryan, not Kitty, not the actress.

When Ryan got to the handicapped stall, he didn’t even try to persuade Brendon to unlock the door; he just crawled underneath the door and put an arm around Brendon’s shoulders.

“It’s okay, Brendon,” Ryan said. “It’s okay.”

Brendon pressed his face into Ryan’s tee shirt and cried while Ryan held him and promised him that everything would be okay.

Ryan drove them home and there were tears and screams and moans of pleasure that night in the bed that they shared.