Songbird

Ryan has his keys in his hand as he walks up to his front door, staring down at his feet as they slap against the sidewalk. He looks up as he starts up the stairs and jumps when he finds the front door to be wide open. From down the street, he hears a sudden burst of children’s laughter, and he understands. It’s less than a minute before the neighborhood kids appear, all in a circle as they look up admiringly at Brendon, who’s got a bird perched on the top of his head. From prior experience, Ryan knows this will end badly.

The bird decides it’s had enough of Brendon and takes off, but only makes it to where Camilla and Ashley, two older women, are sitting and sharing stories on their small stoop. The women scream while the kids run after the bird.

“Don’t scare it,” Brendon calls with a laugh. Ryan leans against the small brick wall that contains the stoop and smiles when Brendon notices him. He’s got the bird in his hand now, and he waves with the other one, all grins and crinkled eyes. The kids crowd him again without bothering to see what Brendon is so happy about.

“What’s its name, what’s its name?” a little girl asks excitedly. Brendon looks down at her and hums.

“What do you think it should be?”

Ryan’s smile is soft as he watches the kids and sees how much they love Brendon and how much Brendon loves being around them. He thinks: he’s got a little following. And he thinks: where do I fit here?

The smile starts to drop, but then the bird flies again, right into Camilla’s lap, and her scream is so loud. Even Ashley is laughing at her. Brendon scoops the bird up again and starts to dismiss the kids by name. They all filter away reluctantly, going back to their respective houses. The ones who have to walk past Brendon and Ryan’s wave at Ryan as they pass, knowing smiles on their faces; he is the reason Brendon is making them go.

Brendon walks over, and Ryan sees now that he’s barefoot. His grin is no less brilliant than the sun peeking through the clouds.

“You’re early,” he says, coming up the steps while he makes sure the bird isn’t going to fly into Ryan’s hair. For some reason, a lot of animals think it’s the perfect thing to eat. They walk inside together, Ryan watching the bird a little hesitantly; he does not want that thing loose in his house. Brendon catches the look. “I’ve got her, don’t worry.”

“You’re already calling it ‘her?’” Ryan asks. Brendon just brings the bird to eye level, cocking his head to the side to mirror it. “Bren, we do not need a bird here.”

“But she needs us,” Brendon says without inflection, too focused on following the little bird’s movements. Ryan wants to be upset with him, but that grin surfaces again, trained at him, and there’s no hope. Instead of fighting it more, he hangs his keys on the hook and starts up the stairs.

“You’re turning into Gerard,” he calls over his shoulder, referring to the friend who started letting birds into his house to nest in his rafters. Brendon just laughs.

“Probably.”

When Ryan returns to the first floor, the front door’s been shut and Brendon is sitting on the couch, watching the bird in a bird cage that he found who knows where. He looks up at Ryan’s approach, not scooting over to give him room. It’s just as well; Ryan lands half on top of Brendon, and Brendon rests his head on Ryan’s shoulder. Any doubts are gone when they’re together like this, comfortable.

“I think I'm going to call it Ryan.”

“But you called it a ‘she,’” Ryan says. Brendon gives him a little smirk, to which Ryan frowns. “Ha, ha.”

“You’re my little songbird, Ryan,” Brendon states seriously before smiling again and lifting a little to kiss Ryan quickly. “And both of you are adorable.”

“Fine, call it Ryan.”

The triumph in Brendon’s eyes is almost enough for Ryan to take it back, but he just reaches across him and grabs the remote to turn on the television. They readjust so that Brendon is on top of Ryan, the bird cage at his feet, and Ryan is content to ignore the small chirps and runs his fingers up and down Brendon’s arm. As the first commercial break comes on, something occurs to him and he sits upright so quickly Brendon is almost thrown on the ground.

“What the hell?” Brendon exclaims, gripping the edge of the cushion. Ryan looks at him through narrowed eyes.

“Did you kiss the bird?” he demands. Brendon shakes his head immediately, but his cheeks turn red. Yelling wordlessly, Ryan jumps off the couch and runs to the connected kitchen, turning on the tap and filling his mouth with hot water. He spits it out and scrubs at his lips with the back of his hand. “You are so disgusting!”

Brendon is too busy laughing to care.