American Suitehearts

Ryans POV

It was funny how it happened. Funny that just like that Brendon had this bright spark of—

“Oh look...Ryan Ross exists”

And, in a burst of cruelty, kindness, and mystery asked me to his house. To be honest I was beginning to think he hated me, like I was some sad overly affectionate puppy. So him asking me here just made everything seem even more confusing. So here I am. My guitar strapped onto my back standing outside a gigantic house with Jon, why did he ask me to his house? I thought he hated me?—he wasn’t even able to look at me at the cafe; maybe I was just imagining things...Mormons!

I knocked on the door quietly. I almost hoped that he didn’t answer. Almost.

Suddenly the front door swung open to reveal Brendon and a boy I didn’t recognize, the boy standing behind Brendon smiled, he looked at me for longer than I liked. He had one of those kind faces you felt like telling all you’re secrets too, I could almost feel his gaze judge and evaluate me...this must be Spencer.

“Hello” I said nervously and held out my hand

“Oh!—his a gentlemen” Spencer said brightly and shook my hand

“I’m Spencer—you must by Ryan Ross”

There was something...behind his polite smile....something I didn’t quite understand. The way you smile when you know something that the other doesn’t, I turn my attention to Brendon. He smiled brightly when he saw the two of us, and just like Spencer he rested his eyes on me for a lot longer than necessary....the only difference was that I didn’t mind.

“Come in” Brendon said beckoning us inside his home

“....You’ll catch a cold if you stay out there any longer”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his last remark; the last time I caught a cold was in the dead of winter four years ago—in London terms practically immune to the cold. I walk inside his house anyway and everyone follows.

“Down the hall, first door on your right”

I follow Brendon’s instructions and swing the door open carelessly, and of course I choose this moment to trip over my feet. Darkness swallows me. I feel myself lose my balance and fall slowly into space...but then there are a pair of arms around my chest, pulling me back—away from the darkness.....

***

“Ryan! Ryan are you okay?”

I blink slowly. Those are the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen,

It takes a few moments for me to realise what had just happened. I’d nearly fallen down the stairs leading to the basement, but the boy with pretty eyes had saved me.

“Brendon” I breathe softly

My head was in his lap and I was blinking into his gorgeous chocolate eyes, filled with concern. I can see his mouth sound out my name yet I don’t hear anything. It must be pretty odd being as pretty as that, nobody would ever take them seriously, his lips look funny as his saying my name over and over...I suppose I should probably wake up properly now?

“Sorry” muttered softly to eye candy

Everything feels a bit dizzy, yet it has nothing to do with the fall

All three of them are looking at me with concerned eyes

“You hit your head on the banister” Jon explains

“...but thankfully Brendon grabbed you before you fell down the stairs and broke your neck”

I nod slowly. My head was still in Brendon’s lap and I didn’t feel like moving. I noted that both of his hands were around me in an awkward embrace and his eyes were still on me with a worried expression: as if I was going to lose consciousness at any moment. This time I avoid eye contact and force myself up. It’s only then that I became aware of the throbbing pain in the back of my head. I groan

“I’m gonna have a bump on my head...I’ll look like a weirdo version of Frankenstein!” I considered that now I was deathly injured I was allowed to complain all I wanted

Spencer added in “Well it is Halloween soon...”

We all laughed. Except for Brendon who seemed to be in deep thought

“...I tore your shirt” he finally mutters softly

I look down to see there is in fact a missive rip down the front of my old Sex Pistols shirt

“Oh...” was all I managed to say, I blamed my brain injury for not being able coming up with something smarter

“Come” he adds in the same soft cautious tone and begins going upstairs

“....you can borrow one of mine”

I didn’t notice Jon and Spencer exchange a glance as I followed Brendon up the stairs where I assumed his room was. He led me through a corridor with lots of doors; I looked through some of the open ones: rooms with made beds and white washed walls, I notice each one has a cross purposely placed cross over their beds.

“Your house is so....big” I say softly

“Yeah, and empty” the word seemed to hang in the air as I followed him to his bedroom. His room was at the back of second story and exact opposite too the rest I had seen. Posters of various bands and music artists cover every inch of the wall with an unmade bed and a pile of clothes stacked into an overflowing pile

“You like Brian Ferry?” I say in surprise to a gigantic 1970’s style poster that decorated half his wall

“Yeah” he says with a small smile before adding

“I’m still trying to get over “Do the strand” It’s just one of those songs you just have to dance around the room badly too”

I hide a smirk, trying not to imagine Brendon dancing around his room in his boxers. Of course I fail in doing this and pretended to look at more posters while hiding a smirk. Brendon begins going through a few draws in search of a shirt that would actually fit me. In a soft surprise I realise it wasn’t awkward at all, everything seemed very cool and relaxed
“Finally...got it” he mutters and hands me a red V neck

“It shrunk in the wash” he says as he hands it to me with that adorable nervous smile of his
I take off my shirt. It’s only afterwards that I consider that this may be considered provocative and I could easily use this as an advantage. So just as Brendon turned to leave his bedroom to give me some privacy I begin talking to him, so he can’t leave the room

“....So, how do you know Brian Ferry? Not many Americans know him”

Brendon still had his back turned away from me. I consider forcing him to turn round when I’m topless but that would probably make him scared and run away... he talks slowly and cautiously

“Well basically through the power of YouTube...it was on one of the related topics....” he pauses as if deep in thought and asked

“...Ryan, what’s it like in England?”

The question caught me off guard and I answered with the first description that came to my head. Whenever I say what I feel it always comes out wrong and jumbled, like a badly put together jigsaw

“It’s like honey” even to my ears my answer sounds weird, things never sound the way they do in my head

I finally manage to get the red V neck over my head—even for me that’s tight

“No wait...” I say finally coming up with an answer better than Honey and something that he would understand

“...You know when you’re so happy that everything looks golden, and it seems like nothing can possible go wrong—because that’s what England’s like every day”

I saw Brendon turn his head slightly before forcing his eyes in front of him. Forcing his eyes away from me...and that’s when it all made sense and I asked the dangerous question

“Bren, are you a Mormom?”

Brendon went absolutely still taking a lot longer than he should have in answering

“...Sort of, I think”

“Sort of” I repeated softly, unable to keep the smug smile from my face

Finally I got what seemed to be the tightest shirt in the history of the world on—I swear I should start a collection.

“How do I look?”

Brendon turns and gets the classic deer caught in headlights look

“Umm, yeah well...nice...You look nice” he quickly walks out the door to join the others down stairs and I look in the mirror

“Dam right I look nice...” I whisper to myself

“.....but edging more towards sexy, if I do say so myself”

I smile as I walk down the stairs. He thinks he likes me but he doesn’t know what to do because his a “Sort of” Mormon...it’s like an episode out of East enders...