You Say It's Only This Once

Ryan ran up the long stone walkway, eyes fixed on the approaching dark green door, feeling a sense of anxiousness. He had gotten a voicemail not even five minutes ago from a slightly hysteric, on-the-verge-of-freaking-out Brendon demanding that Ryan needed to be at his house right now because it was that important. Of course, thanks to his overactive imagination, Ryan had seen flashes of a number of things that could be wrong with Brendon in that moment and each of them were more ridiculous than the first. Surely he couldn’t have fallen down the stairs, or drowned in the bathtub, or been accidentally strangled by his sisters many scarves, right?

Ryan banged on the door with a tight fist, simultaneously ringing the doorbell over and over with his other hand.
The door swung open under his fist and the sudden loss made him sway forward and almost fall onto the person who opened the door.
"Jeez Ryan, calm down, one ring on the doorbell would have caught my attention," Brendon laughed cheerily, defiantly not looking like he was suffering from a traumatic head wound.
"What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Should I call an ambulance?" Ryan scanned over his friend closely, looking for anything that might have forced Brendon to make such a distressed phone call. The only thing that made Ryan look twice was the precariously placed frilly pink hair band in Brendon’s hair, half obscured by his messy hair.

"Huh? What are you talking about? I'm fine."
"Then what the hell man? You sounded like you were dying or something on the phone. I though you said it was important."
"Oh, well it is," Brendon just smiled and turned on his heel, prancing off in the direction of the living room.
Ryan let out a breath of relief, knowing he probably should be angry that Brendon wasn’t in dire trouble and didn’t need Ryan there immediately, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t. It was that annoying, doe-eyed look on Brendon’s face that prohibited Ryan from developing any type of anger of frustration towards him. It was physically impossible for Ryan to get mad at Brendon and that disability had haunted him since he could remember, but Ryan never thought twice about it.

Ryan walked into the living room and stopped, thinking that if he hadn’t lost his masculinity back when Brendon dared him to try on a pink Speedo, it was defiantly gone now.
Brendon sat amongst five twelve year old girls, one being his sister Anna, their tiny group surrounded on all sides by piles of pink fabric, various tutus, several blonde wigs lined up on the couch, two enormous boxes with pink fabric inside and an armada of hair products.

"Ryan, this is what I needed your help with," Brendon said, voice piping up behind the pink veil now draped across his face.
"You need help transforming into a girl?" Ryan asked dryly.
"Ha ha, funny," Brendon rolled his eyes. "Anna and her friends have a dance recital and we need to help them get ready so get your ass over here and pick out ribbons."

Ryan paused, debating whether he should stalk off robustly and do something manly or give in and help him. The pull was too strong, he wanted to help pick out their outfits and fit on those pretty wigs and curl ribbons.
Ryan stepped forward and tried to pick his way through the pink minefield and reach the little huddle. But it was almost impossible, he thought he may have found a path but that turned out to be obscured by a cluster of scary looking high heels. How the fuck did Brendon even get over there so quickly?

"Just jump," Brendon answered his thoughts.
Ryan frowned and sprung forward, stretching out his legs to reach his friend while trying not to knock out any of the young girls. He landed one foot on Brendon’s lap and the other on the floor, swaying and retracting the foot that had penetrated Brendon’s personal space and planted it firmly on the floor.

"Thank god your here Ryan," Anna smiled up at him. "Brendon doesn’t know what he’s talking about and you have so much more style experience."
Anna and her friends giggled amongst themselves and shot him long glances.
Ugh. Ryan really hated that. All Anna and her friends did was try and flirt unsuccessfully with him. He loved Anna like a sister and didn’t mind so much when she did it, but then she brings over ten or twelve friends that all felt the need to hang over him and Ryan really starts to get ticked.

"Ryan knows more about ribbons, I'm afraid," Brendon admitted, pulling Ryan down to sit next to him.
"I do not!" Ryan protested, playfully shoving Brendon’s shoulder.
"Okay, whatever," Brendon grinned. "Here’s what’s going on. Anna and the girls have their recital tonight and they need costumes pronto. And the wigs."
Ryan rubbed his hands together. "Let’s get this over with."
The girls giggled and Ryan and Brendon shared a look, Brendon pouting out his lips and shaking his torso teasingly, making sucking noise to make fun of his sister. Ryan wished he didn’t do that.

"I want Ryan to do my costume!" Anna cried, the other girls quick to claim him also.
"We're doing them together," Ryan amended quickly and he thought he saw a pudgy one with pigtail mumble a 'Fuck Brendon' under her breath. Okay. Ryan was starting to get seriously freaked out, being enclosed on all sides by them with no escape except to kill himself trying to get over those heels.

They set to work and after the first few stressful trials developed a system, where Brendon would cut the designated areas of fabric and Ryan would organize everything to be used, putting together the right shades of pink. The five costumes were done within no time with this effective system, and it was time to style and decorate the wigs.
Ryan was starting to feel overwhelmed, with drying Elmer’s glue going all the way up to his elbows and girls giggling everywhere he looked. He could tell Brendon was starting to feel the same way by the look on his face.

Brendon got the first wig and Ryan lined up the available ribbons to be included in the piece.
"Ryan, can you pass me the plaid and floral ribbons?" Brendon seriously, holding out a hand expectantly.
"Brendon. Are you kidding me right now, you can’t put plaid and floral together! Give me the fucking wig."

Brendon quickly threw the wig like he was afraid of Ryan. Ryan caught it and righted it, running his fingers through the fake hair to take out the knots.
Brendon stuck to just giving Ryan what he needed in fear of making another stupid mistake again, which made it a lot easier for Ryan. He worked silently and diligently, popping out four wigs within twenty minutes.

"Ryan, you're the best!" Anna cried when Ryan handed her the last wig.
Ryan smiled politely, pushing his hair out of his face, cringing when he forgot about all the glitter that was on his hands and now in his hair.
Anna and her friends took off to get changed, leaving Ryan and Brendon stuck in the middle of the sea of endless pink.

Ryan glanced at Brendon the same time he looked at him, the both of them bursting into laughter. Brendon--how, Ryan will never know--had on the headband from before, the veil, and new additions pink bowtie and one clip on earring. Ryan was sure the front of his hair was sticking up with glue and sparkles, and he felt a few bedazzlements drying across his cheek.

"Dude, you look like some type of drag queen," Brendon said through laughter, clutching onto his stomach.
"Well you're no better," Ryan grinned, flicking Brendon’s veil.

The calmed down after a bit, their laughter reduced to only smiles and they looked around at the mess they were in.
"I have never felt more like a girl in my life," Ryan murmured as the reality of wanting to play dress up in that tutu that was just staring at him became apparent.
"Yet...I don’t want to stop..."
"Me either..."

Brendon was edging towards the stack of shoes and that damn tutu was really just calling Ryan’s name. It was fun to throw your reserves and qualms out the window and try something you never thought you would want to do. Curiosity inspired experimentation, Ryan concluded.

"No!" Brendon suddenly yelped, jumping to his feet. "What are we doing? We can’t be brainwashed into the girl world Ryan, we have to save ourselves."
Lost in his thoughts, Ryan blinked up at Brendon, dazed. "But..."
"Ryan, look at yourself! Your sitting there just craving to put on that tutu and dance around to Gloria Estefan, I know you are."
"What’s wrong with Gloria Estefan?" Ryan said moodily.
"Do you hear yourself man? Fight it!" Brendon grabbed his shoulders and shook him, face desperate.

Maybe it was the shaking motion that was clearing up his brain or the closeness of Brendon’s eyes, but Ryan snapped out of it then, seeing the room in a whole new light.
"Fuck," he swore, jumping to his feet much like Brendon had, rubbing his face diligently. Brendon just nodded in an understanding manner, placing a comforting hand on Ryan’s shoulder that was anything but.

"We need to get out of this room. Do something manly, you know?" Ryan continued, back to scanning the room for a way out.
"Beer! My dad’s got beer in the fridge!" Brendon said at once, grabbing Ryan’s arm and very literally dragging him along and over the piles of pink. Ryan never wanted to see that color again. It was disgusting and putrid and just ruined everything. On the way to the kitchen, Brendon ripped off his accessories, Ryan patting down his hair with all his might and trying to pry out the sparkles.

Brendon opened the fridge door and little too forcibly, the bottles of condiments rattling on the shelves, and he dove for two Coronas Light. The beer stung Ryan’s hand when Brendon forced it on him, the coldness making his skin stick to it a little.
Ryan found an opener and they popped the caps, Ryan earning some assistance from a very gentlemanly Brendon when he couldn’t open his own.

They bowed the necks and clanged bottles, cheering each other before Ryan brought it too his mouth and sipped. The liquid burned his mouth and throat as it went down, causing Ryan to have to repress a nasty expression from his face. He couldn’t hold it in though, and started coughing vehemently, eyes watering. As soon as he saw Ryan start coughing, Brendon doubled over and did the same, the beer making him want to vomit.

"Okay," Ryan said in a raspy voice, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth and putting the beer down. "No beer."
"Yeah," Brendon coughed.
"How about," Ryan took in the room quickly, eyes falling on a wooden box with beating chips placed next to it. That was manly, right? "Poker?"

Brendon followed Ryan’s gesturing hand to his brother’s poker set on the table, immediately nodding and hurrying to the table. He’s seen his brother have poker nights with his friends and they were all very manly, so it must be a good idea.
Ryan sat at the head of the table and Brendon sat across from him, clicking open the box and exposing the neat stacks of cards and more chips. Ryan drummed his fingers across the table impatiently because after all, this was manhood they were dealing with here.

“How bout a little five card stud?" Brendon said and Ryan just nodded, never having heard the term in his life before but felt confident that Brendon knew what he was doing. The exact same thing was running through Brendon’s mind, for the only card game he had ever played was Go Fish, but proposing that now might just bring them back into the 'Pink Room'.

Brendon took the card stack in his hands and stated to bend it in half, about to attempt to do that really cool shuffling trick he watched his brother do. But Brendon bent the cards to much and they flew out of his hands and went everyone, one catching Ryan on the eyebrow.

Ryan sighed at the mess, his excitement for playing poker now completely gone. When he went to complain to Brendon, he found his friend staring agape at something on the kitchen counter.
Curious, Ryan craned his neck to see what was so interesting., gasping when he did so.

"No. Brendon, no," he said strongly once laying eyes on the movie cover.
"But, it’s The Notebook, Ryan," was Brendon’s argument.
"Brendon. Stay focused, don’t give in," Ryan tried, but he felt more like he was talking to himself.
"Its Noah and Allie."

That’s all it took for Ryan to snap and jump out of his seat, grabbing onto that beloved movie and cradling it in his arms as he and Brendon dashed into the living room.

Amidst the still pink filled room there still was furniture somewhere under it all, and Ryan looked desperately for it, his desire to watch the movie fueling him. Brendon cleared off the couch and Ryan put in the DVD after successfully locating the television and moving those damn heels out of the way.
He turned to see Brendon slumped over the couch with a sparkly tiara suddenly perched atop his head, holding out a glittery wand and a floral headband.

Ryan took a second to appreciate how well Brendon could read his mind and took his wand and fashioned the headband across his forehead, sitting down on the couch next to Brendon, waving the wand briefly to get the feel of it.

The movie started and they both let out sighs of pleasure, back where they wanted to be.
When the time in the movie came for Noah to kiss Allie in the rain, Ryan glanced at Brendon involuntarily, their gazes meeting, the tiara starting to slip past Brendon’s forehead.

By the time Allie was in her car reading Noah’s letters, Ryan had convinced himself that he had already done things he wouldn’t normally do today, so one more couldn’t hurt.

That was when Ryan nervously grabbing Brendon’s hand, entwining their fingers gently. Brendon looked down at their hands for a moment, before picking up his head and looking at Ryan. All innocent eyes and dazzling smile.

Ryan thinks that maybe he was wrong. Pink is a great color.