Archive of Our Own

It all started with a stupid email from Spencer. The subject line of the email said, "You have to check this out!" It sounded enough like Spencer. When he opened it, the only thing it contained was a link and a smiley face. Nothing telling what it was or why Ryan needed to see it. It was probably some ridiculous site or video. Spencer liked to frequent weird but strangely hilarious sites, so Ryan clicked the link.

A new window popped up and loaded quickly. It was a porn site.

"Okaaay," Ryan said aloud. Spencer never sent him porn, and Ryan wasn't even sure Spencer looked at porn. It was sort of confusing, even suspicious.

He took a quick look at the page (because, hey, he was already there) and it looked like a big collection of amateur porn clips. He was going to have to call Spencer later to tell him how grossed out he was that his best friend was sending him porn, and how if he was going to be a pervert, he could at least find better sites. Bored of the site already, Ryan moved the mouse to exit the window, but when he clicked little X at the top corner, a new little window popped up. And another. And then another, until his entire screen was covered in tiny little pop-up windows. Little advertisements flashed on the screen ranging from rip-off Rolexes to ads for more porn sites. Ryan started getting a little panicky and began closing pages as quickly as possible, but they kept coming up too fast for him to keep up with. Some came with sounds from car horns beeping (You've just been entered to win a V8!) to moaning from more goddamn cheap porn. Then all of a sudden, his computer screen froze. Ryan was still trying to fight each little pop-up and it took him a second to realize that his mouse wasn't moving.

After a few moments of staring at his screen and wiggling the mouse insistently, Ryan actually screamed.

"Dude! What the fuck have you done to my computer?!" Ryan yelled into the phone when Spencer picked up.

"What the hell are you talking about, Ryan? This is Ryan, isn't it?" Spencer said, very confused on the other end of the line.

"That fucking site you sent me crashed my damn computer!" screeched Ryan.

"Oh, man, didn't I call you and tell you? My email got hacked and it sent weird sites to my whole list of contacts. I thought I called you and left a message."

Ryan rolled his eyes and pulled his cell phone away from his ear. Sure enough, there at the top of the screen was a little icon shaped like an envelope, alerting Ryan that he had a new voicemail in his box. Ryan's jaw dropped.

"No fucking way," he said, more to himself than Spencer.

Spencer still answered. "Sorry, man. Maybe you should call Geek Squad or something."

"Yeah," Ryan said, a little shaken and still in half-disbelief. His computer had just crashed, but it was so heavy on him that it felt like his dog had just died. He didn't know how to process it yet. "Maybe I will call them."

Ryan really had no idea how computers worked aside from how to get around on one. It didn't even occur to him that the Geek Squad might not have even been the right people to call until after he had called in and scheduled an appointment with an Agent.

The woman on the phone had been nice, listening to Ryan explain the trouble and then trying to suggest solutions. However, Ryan just started getting frustrated because it wasn't like he really knew the technical lingo and nothing was making sense to him. He didn't know how to explain the problem with his computer. All he knew is that he went to a site, his computer froze, and it wouldn't load when he tried to boot it back up.

Patient as ever, the woman suggested that Ryan either come into one of the Best Buy locations and get technical help from the Geek Squad there or hire an Agent, as they called them, to come and take a look at the computer and figure out how to fix the problem that way. So relieved, Ryan immediately agreed to hire the Agent and gave his address. The woman told him that his Agent would come to his house in three days at noon to help him with his computer difficulties. She politely bid him good day and ended the call.

Three days passed and Ryan was sitting in his bedroom in front of his computer, wondering if there was any hope of saving the thing or if he should just borrow Spencer's computer and start looking at the new laptops online. He was absent-mindedly tidying his room up (because he didn't want to look like a complete slob) when the doorbell rang and got Ryan's attention.

He went to the door and looked quickly through the peephole. On the other side, there stood a man with a short-sleeved, white shirt tucked into black slacks and a black tie. Out on the side of the road, Ryan could see the signature Geek Squad car parked.

"Are they serious?" Ryan thought as he stepped back to open the door.

Oh yes, they were serious. There was the Agent with red-rimmed glasses on his nose and a briefcase in hand. The sad part was that the guy wasn't some fat, balding, middle-aged man or a stick-skinny, ugly thing with nothing going for him but his computer knowledge. He looked so young and fresh. Ryan wondered why he got a job working for the Geek Squad. Sure, he was sort of thin and pale with glasses, but that didn't automatically make someone a loser. However, the job with the Geek Squad was edging him in that direction, as was his awful haircut.

"Hello," the man said in a sort of practiced tone. "My name's Brendon Urie and I'm your Geek Squad Agent."

"Hey, I'm Ryan. Come on in and take a look at this thing," said Ryan, waving vaguely behind him. He moved to the side and let Brendon in before closing the door behind him. Brendon took a quick look at the room but didn't seem to care enough to dwell very long, so he waited for Ryan to lead him to the computer.

"This way," said Ryan, motioning for Brendon to follow him. "It's in the bedroom."

Brendon skittered behind him to his bedroom and sat down at Ryan's computer chair before Ryan even had a chance to try and describe the issue at hand.

"It won't start up. A few days ago, it froze while I was surfing the internet," Ryan said, plainly lying. As much as Ryan was sure there were more embarrassing ways to crash a computer, a dignified part of him wouldn't just admit that I was at a pornography site and the pop-ups ate my computer. Brendon didn't need to know. Brendon probably didn't even care to know how it happened, anyway. His job was to fix it now that it had happened. The how was really only relevant to Ryan, who swore to himself that he would never click on a link in an email ever again no matter how safe it looked.

Brendon hadn't said anything since his short little introduction but was already getting to work at pressing buttons and poking around the computer tower. It was sort of awkward and maybe a little rude, in Ryan's opinion, that Brendon didn't at least tell him theories on what could fix this. Normal computer repair guys sat there and tried to educate Ryan, telling him all he never cared to know about his RAM or how many giga-whatevers a decent computer should have.

Actually, reconsidering it, Ryan realized that maybe Brendon was the more polite of the two types. Still, his silence was a little unnerving.

"So, do you think you can fix it or is this one of those Blue Screen of Death things where I should just abandon hope now?" Ryan asked, hoping to at least get Brendon to laugh a little. Brendon did crack a smile, but he bent his head like he was hiding it and just kept working. It was sort of endearing. Maybe, Ryan reasoned, the guy was just shy. He wasn't being rude; he just didn't know what to say.

"You seem pretty young to be on the Geek Squad," Ryan said, trying to sound conversational. He was hoping this wouldn't be a big, awkward affair but Brendon was not helping turn things around.

"I'm twenty," Brendon finally said.

"Success!" Ryan silently rejoiced. Then he joked, "I thought all the Geek Squad had were thirty year old men without girlfriends."

Brendon visibly bristled at that and Ryan felt a stab of regret and embarrassment. Brendon just said, "Not everyone thinks a girlfriend is top priority."

"Oh, well, yeah, there are more... important things than just, uh... than just girls," stumbled Ryan. Awesome. He had already established himself as an asshole. "I'm just gonna..." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and backed out of the room slowly. Brendon didn't look up as he left, a little flustered with his face tinged pink.

Once safely out of the room and away from Brendon, Ryan sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was such an idiot. He wondered, though, why he was so set on making a good impression. It wasn't like Ryan was ever going to see this guy once his computer was back up and running. And he had tried to be friendly but Brendon had hardly responded. If Brendon wanted to work in peace, then fine. Ryan wasn't going to sit around and try to coax conversation out of him. He had better things to do.

However, most of these things would have taken place in his bedroom where all his shit was. So maybe he would have to find something less-important-but-still-better to do, which turned out to be flipping the TV on and seeing what he could watch. He settled on The Last Samurai, content to watch Tom Cruise in all his weirdness strutting around the screen.

He got all the way through the movie and Brendon still hadn't come out to even tell Ryan how things were going. Ryan started getting a little worried. Was something wrong? Was Ryan's computer that fucked? Had Brendon stolen the computer and escaped out the window?

Curious, Ryan got up and tiptoed to the bedroom, the door still open wide. He leaned in the doorway with both hands on the frame to see Brendon bent over the tower with his ass sticking out, poking around some more like he was trying to take the whole damn thing apart.

"Any progress?" Ryan said from the doorway, causing Brendon to jump and look up. He had a scared, confused sort of look on his face that just didn't make sense to Ryan (unless he really was planning on snatching his computer when Ryan wasn't looking).

Brendon made something close to a smile and said, "Just going through the different methods."

Ryan nodded and ahhed like he knew what those were. Brendon went back to stretching over the computer and looking like he was trying to stick his head in the tower. Ryan just tried not to laugh and thought to himself that this guy didn't look like he had a clue as to what he was doing. And the two hours or so Brendon had already spent checking this thing out seemed to say that, at the very least, Brendon wasn't their star employee. He couldn't fix your computer in some weird, timed competition. Ryan wondered if really big computer nerds had those or if that was only for solving Rubik's cubes.

Ryan left Brendon alone again.

He went to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich, eating slowly before slumping back down on the couch and watching two episodes of So You Think You Can Dance re-runs. Finally, Ryan got back up and stalked to his room to see Brendon staring at a screen of numbers and text, which probably meant something in Geek-speak but only looked like The Matrix to Ryan.

"Anything yet?" Ryan said impatiently. The guy had been at his house for hours. He hoped Brendon wasn't charging an hourly rate. Ryan was going to be really pissed if the guy was just wasting his time to get paid more.

"I got it booted up and running. I think you had a pretty nasty virus," Brendon said, eyes still glued to the screen. "You should probably install a virus-protection program after this to keep it from happening again in the future."

"Yeah, thanks," Ryan said, sounding a little like a smart-ass. Brendon's fingers on the keys faltered for just a second, like that little remark got to him, but then continued on like it didn't happen.

Ryan crossed his arms, not feeling sorry yet for being a jerk (because, seriously, the guy had been here for way too long), and said, "How much longer do you think this will take?"

"Not much longer. The hardest part was finding the virus and purging it. Now I'm just doing some last minute cleaning up to make sure there aren't any more little viruses eating away at your computer. Maybe ten more minutes and then I'll be out of your hair." The way Brendon said it made him sound like a dog with its tail between its legs, like he knew he was being a nuisance and he wanted to leave so Ryan wouldn't pick at him anymore.

"Ten minutes. Ok. I'll wait," Ryan thought, sitting himself down on the edge of his bed. He watched Brendon go through codes and files, his fingers flying across the keyboard without even a glance downward. Brendon may not have been their champion Agent, but he still knew a thing or two about how to handle computers.

The light from the screen reflected softly off of Brendon's glasses, giving him a sort of glazed look as he went through and scanned the computer for more possible viruses. The screen looked like a wall of jumbled letters and numbers, falling from the top of the screen to the bottom in blocks of paragraphs. Suddenly, the screen stopped moving and Brendon kept typing.

"Well, I think I figured out what caused the virus," he said, and Ryan's breath seized in his throat.

"Shit shit shit," thought Ryan, fear seizing him.

Brendon squinted at the computer where a URL was written out. "...Big-Ass Titties?" He looked back at Ryan with the smuggest smirk Ryan had ever seen. Ryan could only imagine the look of horror on his own face.

"My friend's email got hacked. I got a link in an email and I ended up there. I didn't even know what it was," Ryan explained, his eyes a little wider than normal. "It was an accident."

Brendon didn't say a word, but the look on his face said it all. He felt like he had caught Ryan in something. There was a gleam behind his glasses that made him look like he was grinning on the inside like Ryan was the loser here. Never mind that Brendon was wearing that dorky short-sleeved button down shirt and driving a car proclaiming his loserdom. No, Ryan was the dork looking at porn sites and getting viruses like some creep who loaded himself up with spyware from lurking around shady sites. If Ryan had been the bullying type, he would have made a stab at Brendon about how he probably only had porn to keep him company most nights and he shouldn't be making fun. Later, Ryan wondered if saying it would have even scathed Brendon at all.

It was like, all of a sudden, Brendon had this newfound sense of confidence that he had something over Ryan's head that made Ryan look more like an idiot than Brendon in his tie. Brendon seemed to have resigned himself to being a geek until this. It was like this made them equals in Brendon's head.

He relaxed a little in his chair as if he was much less concerned about seeming professional now, and he looked back at Ryan with those smiling eyes. They mocked him and searched him at the same time, making Ryan feel embarrassed and almost violated. There was something else behind those bright red frames that made Ryan's skin crawl. This look that Brendon was giving him mixed in so well with the superior stare that Ryan almost didn't notice it. It was almost... teasingly seductive, like he was silently saying, "You dirty boy, what were you doing there?" When Brendon gave him a half-smile and arched an eyebrow, both of Ryan's eyebrows shot up in defense.

Where did this guy get this? From where was he drawing this sudden burst of confidence? When he had walked in, he had barely said a word and only looked Ryan in the face long enough to say his own name. How on earth did this pale little Geek Squad Agent turn into this? It didn't make sense and it was fascinating. Clearly, Brendon was not just some shy, nerdy little tech support guy. The guy had a different personality, had a hidden story behind his square glasses and stupid uniform. And Ryan, being the analytical type of guy that he was, was curious to figure him out.

Ryan's mind suddenly got a flash of Brendon bent over the computer tower before, ass high and obvious.

Oh, Ryan was so hooked.

"Alright, well," Brendon said, stretching his arms over his head and fixing his tie, "I've got your computer back up and working. Like I said before, you'll probably want to install some more firewalls and virus scanners to make sure this isn't a normal thing that happens to your computer. Our website has a few places you can go to and download them for free. It really saves you a lot of headaches, especially if you're a regular at sites like Big-Ass Titties." He looked like he was trying really hard not to laugh. Ryan winced.

Then Brendon said, "The bill will come in the mail. If you need anything or have any questions, our helpline number is posted on our website. Free feel to call if you have any more problems or concerns. My work, however, is done."

"Uh, thanks," Ryan managed to say as Brendon packed up his briefcase.

"No problem. Glad to be of service, Ryan," Brendon said, subtly accenting Ryan's name. It was like he was silently saying, "I'll remember you."

Ryan saw Brendon to the door and peeked out of the front window to watch Brendon walk back to the car with a different step than he arrived with and then drive away.

Ryan went to the Geek Squad website just hours after Brendon left and installed those virus-protection programs. While there, Ryan strayed to the Agent section of the site, seeing what they were supposed to be capable of doing for him.

He had to think of a reason for Brendon to come back. He was already going crazy with curiosity about him and the idea of just forgetting about him seemed absurd. Then the perfect solution came to him.

- Contain virus outbreaks
- Remove prying spyware
- Install virus-and spyware-protection software
- Show you how to use your digital camera.

It couldn't have been more perfect. Spencer had just gotten a new digital camera the other week and it was the coolest shit Ryan had seen since the Wii. No doubt it was complicated, with lots of confusing buttons and weird settings. All he would have to do is borrow it and call for Brendon to come and help him figure it out. And since Spencer was indirectly responsible for his computer crashing in the first place, it would be the least he could do to try and make it up to Ryan.

Brilliance only came easily to a true genius, and Ryan fancied himself a real genius at that moment.

He did not, however, fancy himself one when he was sitting on the phone with another representative and was going to ask for Brendon specifically but, for the life of him, could not remember Brendon's last name. Brendon had said it maybe once, but Ryan hadn't really been paying attention. He told representative—a man, this time—that the last Agent whom he'd last hired was very helpful and friendly, but he only remembered that his first name was Brendon and he wore red glasses.

"I'm sorry, sir, but the representatives don't work with the Agents. They're in a completely different sect of the company, so I can't help you with who you might have hired before. Rest assured, though, that all of our Agents are very capable, friendly workers who can help you learn about your new digital camera."

Ryan wanted to growl and say, "I don't want another Agent, I want Brendon." The man was starting to get on Ryan's nerves with his detached, business-like attitude. Ryan was sure that the woman he talked to before would have at least been sympathetic and jotted down a note to send along for the right person to read.

Despite his frustration, Ryan thanked the man and gave his address again, hoping against hope that things would work out and Brendon would be the one to show up at his house.

The man on the phone had told Ryan that the Agent would come to his house the next day at about four in the afternoon. So Ryan waited anxiously at the front window, watching for the car to pull up in front of his house. His hands were a little shaky and his heart was thudding in his chest with practically no rhythm. When the car finally did drive up to his house, Ryan felt like everything around him stopped. Everything was deathly still as he waited to see who emerged from the little black and white car.

It was hard to tell, at first, because of the distance, but the dark mop of hair on top of the faceless Agent's head was a good sign. As the figure came closer, Ryan saw the quickest flash of red across the Agent's face.

"There is a God!" Ryan hollered out loud with his arms thrown up in the air. His burst of joy was stifled as Brendon came closer to the door. Ryan busied himself with his nervous habit of smoothing down his hair and pulling on the hem of his t-shirt that did not want to touch the top of his pants. Then he waited for Brendon to knock.

The rhythmic tap tap tap of Brendon's knuckles echoed through the house and Ryan waited a few seconds to walk to the front door and open it casually.

"Well, hey," Ryan said with a bright smile. Brendon gave him back an indiscernible look, and it got Ryan's mind abuzz with questions already.

"Whoareyou? Howareyou? Whatareyouthinking? Whatdoyouthinkofme? What'syourlifelike? Letmeunderstandyou."

Brendon said, "They tell me you need the lowdown on your new camera." The tiny smirk growing from the corners of his mouth was playful.

Ryan chuckled a little, hoping Brendon was meaning to be funny, and waved for Brendon to come inside. They entered the living room where Spencer's new and expensive camera was waiting on the coffee table. Ryan picked it up and handed it to Brendon with an unsure, expectant look. Brendon took a quick look at it and turned it on while Ryan watched with crossed arms.

"Now, do you need to know something specific or do you just want the general run-through?" Brendon said in a small voice, like he was falling back into that nerdy façade, just getting his work done and getting out.

"Oh, um, I just need to know all the normal stuff. I don't know how to do anything but turn it on and take a picture," he said, feeling a little embarrassed that it was actually true.

"The most helpful thing you can always do is read the manual. That's normally the fastest way to answer a question or fix a problem," Brendon said as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Yeah, I, uh… lost my manual?" was all Ryan could think to say. He had forgotten to ask Spencer for it and he felt a little stupid now. It probably made him look even stupider to Brendon.

Brendon gave a slightly indulgent smile and turned the camera on as he sat down on the couch. He said, "We'll start with how to use the playback setting."

Ryan hesitantly sat down next to him, unsure of what a safe but friendly distance would be. The camera whizzed and whirred a little before making a happy ping and flashing a picture of Spencer and Haley across the screen.

"My best friend and his girlfriend," Ryan explained. He couldn't understand why he was feeling so awkward and anxious. If anything, that should have been Brendon. Granted, Brendon was still a little awkward anyway but Ryan thought it unfair that he felt it too.

"They're a cute couple," Brendon said with a small, sweet smile. It was the first real conversational thing Brendon had ever said to Ryan and it made Ryan want to grin. Progress! Ryan nodded and looked back at Haley and Spencer, sitting in Spencer's car and taking pictures in the front seats.

"They're really great for each other," Ryan said with an approving nod.

"Any pictures on here you might not want someone else to see? Like, you and your girlfriend, for example?" Brendon said. He flashed another smile much like the one from the other day. A teasing, playful one with the tiniest show of teeth.

"Oh, no, no!" Ryan said. He quickly assured Brendon that he didn't have a girlfriend anyway, and he wouldn't be taking pictures like that if he did.

He could have sworn he heard Brendon mutter something that sounded like, "Hm. Interesting."

Brendon continued on and showed Ryan all the functions and features of the camera, nearly boring Ryan to death because it wasn't as if he was actually planning on using the damn thing. All the while, Ryan kept trying to initiate some sort of conversation but Brendon stayed on task and only answered in the most polite, brief way.

"Stupid idiot with your stupid good work ethic," Ryan thought bitterly as Brendon was droning on about different flash settings. At the very least, Brendon was really knowledgeable about the camera, even to the point of half-confusing Ryan. He tried not to listen too closely lest his brain be scrambled.

It was almost an hour before Brendon was finished showing Ryan everything on the camera because he had to demonstrate half of the functions, so now Ryan had about thirty arbitrary pictures of his living room. There was, however, a little gem waiting on the camera for later—a picture Brendon took of himself to show how to focus on an object up close or far away. Ryan was glad that Brendon was flying too quickly through his instructions to delete any pictures.

"Well, that should cover just about everything," Brendon said conclusively. "Do you have any questions?"

"About a hundred, and none to do with the damn camera," thought Ryan. It came out as, "Nope, thanks for the help."

Brendon gave a cordial smile and rose to leave. A panic alarm went off in Ryan's head saying, "Don't let him leave yet!" And as much as he tried to fight with it and argue that "there's no valid reason for him to stay," it still insisted that Ryan stop Brendon before he walked out that door.

After saying his courteous goodbye, Brendon headed for the front door. Feeling a bit conflicted for a moment, Ryan stretched out a hand for Brendon when he wasn't looking and then let it shrink back to his chest. He jumped up from the couch and followed Brendon to the door. Once there, he fumbled for words until all that came out was, "What's your name again?"

Brendon gave him one of those fake, dry smiles that a person uses when they're a bit offended, and he said, "Brendon Urie."

"Brendon Urie," Ryan repeated in his head like he was mentally writing it down, tucking it away for future use. "Sorry, I just completely forgot it before and when I needed help with the camera, I couldn't remember your name to ask for you but you came anyway so I guess that worked out and stuff… and… yeah."

He felt his confidence drying up like a puddle in the desert. Rambling and hints at creepy work-stalking were just not going to help Ryan. But Brendon scratched the back of his head and grinned like a bashful little eight year old.

"I asked for the assignment," he said quietly, like a confession. He glanced up at Ryan with his eyebrows drawn together a little, and Ryan felt his mouth splitting into a grin. Brendon had requested to work for him again.

Somehow, when Brendon was being nervous and jittery, Ryan felt himself calm down, like he didn't need to impress Brendon or anything because now Brendon was the one trying to hold himself together.

"Well, I'm very glad for your help," said Ryan, folding his arms casually.

Brendon looked Ryan right in the eyes for the longest he ever had and said with a quick nod, "Take care, Ryan."

With that, he walked out the door and down the sidewalk where his Geek-mobile was parked. Ryan waved from his doorway and didn't suppress the wide smile when Brendon waved back.

"You know what the most retarded part of this story is?" Spencer said, munching noisily on his chips. Ryan just grunted around his sub in response. Spencer gave a mocking smirk and said, "That you're trying so hard to impress such a loser."

Ryan was mildly affronted and his huff indicated so. "I'm not trying to impress him, and he's… he's not a loser, ok?"

"He works for the Geek Squad, Ryan," Spencer said dryly.

"Which probably means he's smart." Ryan was getting defensive. "Who says you can't be smart and interesting and cool?"

"This coming from the guy who used to pick up the hottest blonde girl in the room when William would take us to college parties."

"Maybe I've realized that I need to grow out of that," Ryan mumbled, like he wasn't sure if he was ready to admit it yet.

"And as mature and great as that is—I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad you want to grow out of it—that doesn't explain the jump. How do you go from Jac Vanek and Keltie Colleen to the guy who fixed your computer? How do these connect?" Spencer said, waving his sub around emphatically.

Ryan sighed in exasperation and pulled Spencer's camera out of his messenger bag. He turned it to playback and handed the camera to Spencer without a word. Spencer took it cautiously and looked at the screen. There was a picture of a guy with slightly mussed hair and vibrant eyes behind oddly stylish glasses. His smile was so warm and pleasant that Spencer almost caught himself smiling back.

"He's… cute," Spencer said. His tone was a mix of astonishment and discomfort. "If I was into dudes, I would probably be interested too."

"Don't think of it like that, dude. There's more to him. Yeah, he's sort of good-looking, but he has this weird air about him that I can't describe."

"A sexy air?" Spencer waggled his eyebrows and bit his lip.

Ryan gave a practically explosive laugh. "Hardly. He seems so introverted and awkward, at least from what I've seen so far. But he has these moments where it's almost like his mask slips. I don't doubt he actually is kind of a dork at the core, but I feel like he's hiding another very different side of himself."

"I would be surprised if you knew every side of him after seeing each other twice, though, dude," said Spencer as he licked mustard off his fingers. "Of course there are sides to him you don't know about."

Ryan shook his head and his hair fell into his eyes. "I know that but it's just… like I said, I can't even describe it. But I have this feeling that he's this really awesome guy underneath his geek façade."

Spencer was quiet for a few seconds and then started snickering behind his lips. "Underneath it, huh?"

Ryan cuffed him on the arm and said, "Oh, shut up, dickwad!" He still laughed in spite of himself.

Ryan got the bills in the mail a few days later. When he opened them up and read the totals, he nearly stopped breathing. Because, oh yeah, he was paying Brendon to come to his house. That part had sort of slipped his mind.

He sat on his couch with the bills in hand and stared at them for a good five minutes before coming to the conclusion that hiring Brendon to make house calls was not going to be affordable much longer.

There had to be another way. He and Brendon were just starting to get somewhere and he couldn't just forget about him now. The first thing he thought of was going down to Best Buy to see if Brendon worked there, too. It was probably a long shot, especially since the whole Geek company seemed to be pretty sectioned off from what he could tell, but Ryan didn't have much of a choice if he wanted to see Brendon again and still have money afterwards.

It was worth a shot.

The doors whizzed open for him as he stepped up to the entrance of the giant building with the words Best Buy lit up out front in black and yellow.

"Oh god, I am such a loser for doing this," Ryan mumbled to himself with a bit of a wince.

There were employees buzzing around, scuttling back and forth between departments and computers in skirts or ties. To Ryan's surprise, it was a woman with blonde curls who came up and approached him. She wore a modest skirt that reached her knees and a nametag with the name Greta printed on it.

"Hello," she said rather pleasantly. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Um, not right now, I just… want to, uh," he floundered. "I was just wondering if Brendon Urie was working."

"No, I don't think we have a Brendon working today. In fact, I'm not sure I even know if a Brendon Urie works here at all. I'm sorry."

Ryan told her it was ok, and she tried to continue. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

At that moment, Ryan saw someone coming closer from his peripheral vision. When he glanced over, he saw a man just an inch or two shorter than himself with a thin, scratchy beard forming on his face. He didn't look like he worked there and Ryan didn't recognize him, but he looked straight at Ryan and said, "Brendon Urie? You're looking for Brendon?"

Ryan nodded, wondering why this complete stranger was talking to him. He hoped this was actually going somewhere, because quite honestly, the guy vaguely looked like he had walked in from sleeping in the street.

The man smiled. "I know him. I see him every few days when he comes to pick up a Geek car."

Greta was still standing next to Ryan. She said to the scruffy man, "Who's Brendon?"

The guy looked at her and gave her a smile as he said, "I know you've seen him. He's the guy you keep calling 'that little Mormon sweetheart.'"

Ryan laughed inwardly. Mormon.

The woman's eyes lit up and she pressed her fingertips to her forehead. "Oh! God, I feel like a jerk now. I see him passing through all the time and I say hello to him but I never knew his name!"

"You fail as a human being, Greta," the man said, dead-faced.

Greta laughed in an adorably pleasant way that made tension bleed out of Ryan's shoulders. She was about to respond, but another customer walked in the automatic doors, claiming Greta's attention. She was quick to receive them, leaving Ryan with this random guy—his only real connection to Brendon.

Ryan scratched the back of his neck and said, "So, is he working?"

The man shook his head. "No. Even if he was, he's mostly does Agent assignments outside of the center, so he isn't here very long anyway."

Ryan sighed. Mission failed.

To Ryan's surprise, the man stuck out his hand and said, "I'm Jon. I unload the trucks with all the new stock for the store."

Ryan smiled, a bit relieved that they finally had some sort of introduction. "I'm Ryan."

"Sorry for just butting in there, but Brendon is one of my buddies."

"Really?" Ryan said, trying not to sound excited.

"Yeah. Since the truck orders come in through the garage entrance, we see each other a lot when he's in between jobs and I'm unloading deliveries," Jon explained. "Why are you looking for Brendon?"

"I, uh, well," Ryan began, completely unsure of where he was going to go with this. His only objective was to find Brendon, and he hadn't thought much past that. What's worse, he hadn't even actually reached that part and he was already fumbling. "He, I guess, helped me with my computer and stuff a couple of days ago, and uh, I still had some questions about it. Just so, you know, I can keep from fucking it up again."

Jon gave him an amused smirk, clearly enjoying Ryan's squirming, and said, "He has another assignment day after tomorrow at 10 AM. He'll be in here at about 9:15 to get a car, so you can try to catch him then, if you want."

Ryan kept his smile subdued and replied with, "Thanks. I just might."

He said goodbye to Jon, ignoring the odd calculating look that Jon kept giving him, and sauntered out of the center with a bit of a spring in his step.

Day after tomorrow at 9:15—he would be there.

The day after tomorrow came, and Ryan woke up at the sound of his alarm dinging. He smacked the alarm clock next to his bed and rubbed his eyes. He took a moment to fight with himself about whether he really wanted to get up or not, and then something set in that he hadn't realized.

"Wait," he thought, barely awake. The sound he had just heard was a little strange and didn't feel like it fit, exactly.

He looked over at his clock and read the time: 11:47 AM.

Everything in the room seemed to freeze for a moment as it set in—his alarm hadn't woken him up. He had overslept again. And this time, it wasn't work he had missed, which, granted, was bad to miss, but work came almost every day. Brendon didn't.

He felt his lungs constricting, and it was like he was back in high school, oversleeping and then rushing to get to the campus before he missed the whole day. He ripped the covers off and he lunged for his closet, hoping to find more than one or two articles of clean clothing. But he stopped amidst his frenzy when he realized it was pointless, there was no way Brendon would be there. He banged his head against the frame of his closet and swore at himself. He later hoped that a bruise wouldn't show up in the middle of his forehead. No need to have one more thing to be angry at.

"What the hell woke me up?" he wondered, frustrated and a little despondent.

He didn't wear a watch, so it hadn't been that. He looked around the room quickly until his eyes landed on his sidekick sitting innocently on his computer desk. He stomped over and picked it up, flipping it open to find out that Spencer had texted him to see if Ryan wanted to come see the new Jet Li movie with him.

His fucking sidekick had awoken him. He had the strong urge to hurl it at the wall, but he put it down before he did something stupid. Instead, he went over to his alarm clock and checked his alarm setting to make sure he had set it up right. Sure enough, the alarm was set for 8:30, and he had definitely turned it on before falling asleep.

Then, Ryan realized the problem: he had set it for 8:30 PM instead of AM. He had that familiar itch to pick it up and throw it, too. Ryan never remembered sucking so bad with electronics before.

He went back and sat on his bed with his arms crossed indignantly, grumbling and swearing a little more, some at himself and some at everything else in the world. Because the whole fucking world was against him in this, he knew it.

He glared at his alarm clock first, cursing its complete ineffectiveness, and then he glared over at his sidekick. After a second or two of seething, he growled and got up to retrieve it. He made sure to be particularly vicious when punching the keys.

what time n where?

"The deal has always been that I buy the tickets and you buy the snacks, Ry. Check way back in our movie-going history and you'll remember," said Spencer, sipping on his Coke as they walked into the movie theater.

"I think we need to change things up then, since I always end up paying, like, twice the amount of the tickets just sustaining you with movie theater popcorn and candy," Ryan groused.

"Hey, just because you couldn't manage to haul your lazy ass out of bed this morning doesn't mean you can start being a dick. It's a movie, dude. Let's have fun."

Ryan sighed. "I know, sorry. I just feel like I missed a really good opportunity today that I may never get again. That is, unless I resort to stalking him or something."

"Yeah, because you're totally not bordering on that anyway. But let's say you actually had caught him this morning—what would you have done next?" asked Spencer, giving Ryan a pointed look as they ascended the stairs to find seats.

"Well," Ryan began, already stalling, "… I would have probably… said something like… god, I have no idea."

"You see? You don't even have the slightest idea as to what you're doing. At least have some sort of plan of action. Or hey, did you ever think of letting this guy come to you? That might be the smarter thing to do so you don't end up expending so much energy only to find out that he won't do the same. Maybe he's not interested in you like that."

"What if I'm not interested like 'that'?" Ryan said as they began shuffling towards the center of an empty row.

Spencer sat down and put his Coke in the cup-holder before saying, "As much as I already think I know the answer to this question, then what do you even want with him, anyway?"

Ryan furrowed his eyebrows and frowned, thinking hard. What did he want with Brendon? He hadn't really thought about it much.

"I… I don't know yet, ok?" he answered a little sorely.

"That's what I thought," was Spencer reply.

"Maybe I want to find out what kind of person he is," Ryan offered. "Maybe I think he's interesting."

"Yeah, you told me that before, but interesting in what way? In a friend way or a… lover way?" Spencer said, using the word delicately.

"I don't know!" Ryan shot back. "Neither way. It's just that… I can't stop thinking about him, wanting to talk to him. He seems like he would have so much to say when he's not trying to remember computer codes or get out of your hair as soon as possible."

"Did you ever think that maybe he doesn't want to get to know you back?" Spencer said carefully. His eyebrows rose like Mrs. Smith's used to do when she was being sympathetic.

Ryan considered telling him what Brendon had said about requesting to take the job helping Ryan again, but he was pretty sure Spencer could easily poke a hole in it. Instead, he went in another direction.

"He seems like the type to be too shy to say anything. Even if he was slightly interested in hanging out, I don't know if I'd be able to tell, which is why I'm just going to keep trying and hope for the best," Ryan explained, feeling strangely optimistic once he finished.

"As long as you're sure," Spencer said, getting comfortable in his seat as the theater dimmed.

Ryan wasn't sure at all, but that didn't change his mind.

It was a week later that Ryan was lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling at some dark hour with one consistent thought on his mind: Something had to be done.

He didn't have the funds to keep bringing Brendon over with the excuse of work, and he wasn't so sure he would be very successful at trying to snag Brendon in between his assignments. And if he started hanging around the center in hopes of seeing him, he was pretty sure people would start to get suspicious and call the cops on him.

He had one more chance to do something without looking like a total creep, and he had to figure something out. However, he kept wondering what sort of things would send the wrong message. He couldn't hire Brendon to work for him again or else he risked looking like he was paying Brendon and expecting something more than just technical services. He couldn't just wait for him at the center and try to chat him up then, because they might call security on him and make him leave for loitering or harassment. But he couldn't just ask Brendon out, because that would be too much at once for both of them. Ryan wasn't even sure Brendon liked guys. He could be putting his own masculinity on the chopping block by doing something so bold as asking Brendon to dinner. Besides, Ryan wasn't even sure he wanted to be moving in that direction with Brendon.

As he thought about it all, he kept hearing Spencer in his head saying, "Then what do you even want with him, anyway?"

"I don't know, I don't know!" he shouted at the ceiling. "I don't fucking know, but I want something!"

He rubbed his hands over his face, feeling stuck in a seven-foot hole with hardly any way out. He had no ideas and he wasn't even sure of his own motives, but he couldn't give up. He had to try. Otherwise, he would be spending a lot of nights yelling at his ceiling like a crazy person. He would rather be shot down cold than left wondering.

He sat in his car with the engine off and the hot Nevada air swirling around him, making the sweat run down the back of his neck. In front of him stood a really nerdy store and a very big gamble; behind him was dissatisfaction and safety. He wasn't sure which scared him more.

Pooling all his blind courage, he stepped out of his car and shut the door with a determined slam. He strode up to the automatic doors with his head high and his fists clenched. The gust of air-conditioning that hit him as he entered helped to cool the light sheen of nervous sweat that had gathered on his neck and palms.

He could do this. He would do this.

He managed to avoid any immediate interaction with some of the employees stationed more towards the front of the store, and he slunk to the back. He tried to find something that looked like it might lead out to a garage, some "employee's only" door that he could linger by. Maybe he would be lucky and intercept Brendon or Jon around there.

He kept venturing deeper into the store with no success at finding a garage entrance, and he started feeling a little confused and disappointed. But to his relief and joy, he saw Jon and two other men, bigger and huskier than Jon, hauling boxes full of new printers out of a back room. They were carefully setting them down against a wall as Ryan slowly walked closer, pretending to look interested in the row of digital memory cards. Jon wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and he noticed Ryan.

"Hey!" he said, smiling. "I remember you. You're the guy from a few days ago looking for Brendon. Did you ever get a hold of him?"

Ryan pretended to just notice Jon there and said, "Oh, hi! No, I didn't get a chance to try to catch him that one day. Is he here now, by chance?"

"You're in luck," said Jon, scratching at his beard. "He is here, but he's in an Agent meeting right now. Sort of a monthly thing they do to motivate everyone and keep them up to speed with things. It's sort of stupid, in my opinion. They shouldn't be too much longer if you want to wait for a bit."

Ryan felt his insides squirming anxiously. While he would have loved to catch Brendon by himself, there was something difficult about pulling him out of a group. It drew so much attention to the situation and the two people involved. Sort of like asking a girl to dance when her friends are around her. They all look at you with that expectant, somewhat criticizing stare that makes you wish you never crossed the floor to begin with. God forbid one of them talks to you and you really lose your nerve.

Ryan fidgeted for a moment or two but reluctantly pulled an old, folded receipt out of his pocket. Scribbled on it was his phone number. He used to keep it with him when he first got his phone and couldn't remember the number right away, and he still had it around because he was too lazy to throw it out. He had brought it to be prepared somehow, but now that he thought about it, he wondered why it had seemed like a good idea before he left the house. Trying to look nonchalant, he held it out to Jon.

"Could you just give this to him when he gets out?" requested Ryan. "Tell him it's Ryan's."

Jon nodded and took the piece of receipt paper without opening it. Then Ryan turned on his heel and walked out, completely forgetting to say goodbye to Jon.

He headed straight for the door but his pace slowed as he came closer. Shit, he had practically just given Brendon his number. How fucking ridiculous could he get? Why couldn't he have done something classier than that? Seriously. Any minute now Jon was going to pull open the paper and realize what had just happened. He would probably laugh really hard and tell the other two guys what a moron Ryan was.

Just as the door came into view, Ryan heard a muffled commotion coming from behind him. The sound of a lot of shuffling and voices restlessly buzzing reached his ears. The meeting had probably just gotten out. And as much as Ryan wanted to turn around and find Brendon, he realized he had dug his own grave already. Jon had the number and was going to give it to Brendon. The deed was done and now Ryan at least had the chance to escape possible humiliation. He didn't want to see the reaction this earned him. God, he felt like such an idiot.

He was just walking out the door when the most pride-crushing thing happened. From behind him, he heard a group of voices shouting and making loud, mocking cat-calls. Ryan fought the urge to hide his face with his hand as he kept walking out, because, oh my god, he completely was not exaggerating his stupidity. He was not some college douche bag who just wanted to "hook up," which was probably all he looked like with his number written on a faded sidekick receipt. He didn't even have the class to write it on an actual piece of paper with his name.

He walked as quickly as he could without hitting a run until he reached his car. When he unlocked the door and flung it open, a wave of hot air crashed into him. Any other time, he would have turned on his air-conditioning and given his car a second to cool off, but he didn't want to be anywhere near this place at that moment. He would sweat all the way home in his suffocatingly warm car if it meant leaving right now.

He got in his car, trying to ignore the boiling heat, and resisted the familiar urge to smash his head into something. Just as he was about to close the door, he heard the sound of a rhythmic pounding on pavement, but he thought nothing of it. He shut the door with an aggravated slam and turned his car on. Before he had even put it in reverse, he heard a hard pounding on his window. The surprise hitting his fragile nerves had him flailing in the driver's seat until his elbow slammed into the horn and blared loudly, officially scaring the shit out of him. He looked frantically out his window, and he couldn't believe what he saw.

There was Brendon, bent over and taking deep breaths with sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. He kept smacking Ryan's window with decreasing force like he was already exhausted and didn't have it in him to do much more. Ryan didn't move for a moment, wasn't sure what he should do. Hesitantly, he cracked open the car door and Brendon moved out of the way for Ryan to get out. Brendon still stood with one hand bracing him against the frame of the car for support, mouth hung open and gulping in air as quickly as he possible could.

"I… ran all the way out here… to catch you before… you left," he huffed out. That parking lot was not a small one, either.

Ryan didn't seem to be capable of speech at that moment.

And that was before Brendon looked up at him with the most earnest pair of eyes and smiled like he was terrified of what Ryan might say in response to his, "What are you doing… Saturday night?"

Ryan still couldn't talk. He just kept staring down at Brendon, convinced that he had heard wrong. And Brendon winced a little at the silence, shuffling his feet with his chest still heaving. Poor guy had probably never run so fast in his life.

"Oh, uh, sorry," Brendon mumbled. He shook his head and started to turn and walk away. "My mistake. I didn't meant to… assume anything—"

"Do you like Mexican food?" Ryan blurted out suddenly. When Brendon stopped and looked back at him, completely transparent about his excitement, and he ducked his head to hide what Ryan already saw was a sheepish grin.

"Mexican is good. Where do you want to go?" Brendon said. Ryan thought for a moment, wondering what place would be appropriate. But he soon came to realize that nothing was going to be "appropriate" if he had no idea what his own intentions were.

"There's always Del Taco down the street," Ryan suggested, hoping Brendon wasn't expecting much.

Brendon smiled easily and said, "I like Del Taco."

"Del Taco it is."

"Alright," Brendon said, eyes flicking between his feet and Ryan's face. "Do you, um… do you want me to come pick you up?"

Ryan actually laughed, imagining Brendon pulling up in the Geek Squad car again. Brendon bit his lip like he wondered if he said something wrong, but Ryan shook his head and said, "I'd rather not show up to a restaurant in a Geek-mobile."

"I do have a car of my own," Brendon pointed out.

"We can just meet there," insisted Ryan. Brendon smiled again, trying to stifle it but failing miserably. Then Ryan asked, "What time?"

"How about… 6:30?" Brendon said, his voice tilting up just enough to make it a question. He was so sweet and unsure of himself that Ryan wanted to pet his hair and tell him to relax.

Ryan nodded and smiled. "6:30."

Brendon looked like he was blushing as he returned the smile and said, "Ok, cool. Saturday at 6:30. Yes."

"I'll see you then, Brendon," Ryan said, pulling gently on the handle to his car door. Brendon stepped out of the way.

"See you then," he repeated. He gave an awkward wave and smiled so brightly that Ryan felt something flop around in his stomach. Still, Ryan waved back before he got in his car, and he watched Brendon out of his rearview mirror as he drove out of the parking lot. Just as he was about to turn onto the main road, he looked back and saw Brendon doing some ridiculous movement that reminded Ryan of Spencer's ungraceful, videogame victory dances.

Ryan felt the same way.

Del Taco was surprisingly busy that Saturday night. Ryan had expected a few people to be trafficking through, but he wasn't expecting the crowd that had congregated inside. When he pulled up into one of the few empty parking spaces, his face fell when he looked through the large glass windows and saw it practically packed full of people, all crammed into booths, messily eating overstuffed tacos and dripping burritos. He could only imagine how noisy it was going to be. That was going to get annoying fast.

But he felt his whole body lift fractionally as he saw Brendon standing outside, leaning against a wall covered in obnoxiously vibrant, chipped paint while he flipped his cell phone open and closed out of boredom. Ryan took a moment to take him in; he cleaned up pretty well in his solid red t-shirt and tight jeans. His neon-colored sneakers were slightly out there, but Ryan liked a little eccentricity. The dumb button-down shirt and slacks hadn't done him justice, Ryan decided. His hair was different as well. Both times before, Brendon had just let it hang lifeless over his head, but with some effort and product, it actually looked… stylish.

"Oh, wow," Ryan whispered to himself. Brendon looked up after a moment and spotted Ryan standing beside his car. His hand shot up and waved at Ryan, clearly a little overly excited.

"Ryan!" he called, stuffing his cell phone in his pocket and jogging over. Once there, he struggled for words for a moment until, "Hi," was all that came out.

Ryan smiled, "Hi, back."

"You hungry yet? Because, damn it, I'm starving," Brendon said, absently gripping a handful of his shirt right at the level of his bellybutton.

"Let's go in," said Ryan, gesturing towards the door.

Once inside, it was a madhouse. There were little kids yelling and dropping nachos on the floor, and the adults ignored them to talk amongst themselves. Then a big group of teenagers had settled in one corner, all rowdy and messy. One older couple was sitting in the middle of the chaos, trying to be decent by politely ignoring it all. Ryan felt sorry for them.

"Ryan?" came Brendon's voice. When Ryan looked over at him, Brendon was standing in front of the register with an impatient worker waiting. "What do you want to eat?"

They ordered (separately, to Ryan's relief) and sat by one of the windows. They entertained themselves with small talk while they ate.

"So a vegetarian?" Ryan asked over the noise, drizzling hot sauce on his taco.

Brendon looked up like he was confused, then gave a little "oh" and nodded as he bit into his bean burrito. "Nothing with a face. It's kind of cruel, you know? Plus, it weirds me out a little to think that I'm eating a living thing. Its muscles, its blood…"

Brendon shivered a little and used a clean finger to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. They looked a whole lot more attractive when he wasn't wearing them with a uniform.

Not really sure how to continue with this vegetarian discussion (because as cute as those little cows were, Ryan liked meat), he tried to shift subjects.

"So how did you get to working with Geek Squad?" asked Ryan, raising his voice to be heard.

Brendon raised his eyebrows and said over the din, "What was that?"

"I said—" A little boy started crying loudly at the mess below the table that had once been his dinner and the teens in the corner laughed cruelly when they saw.

Both boys looked over but tried not to be rude and stare. Trying to ignore it, Brendon said again, "What were you saying?"

Ryan shook his head and said, "Do you want to go outside?"

Brendon shrugged and said, "Sure. We could just take the food to-go and eat in my car."

Ryan liked that idea a lot more than trying to yell at each other over screaming brats and rambunctious teenagers. He went up to the counter and asked the listless employee for a plastic bag. When they had packed it all up, they headed out of the restaurant where things were a little bit calmer, quieter. Ryan breathed in deeply and felt the warm Vegas air settling onto him.

He heard Brendon take a similar breath next to him before saying, "God, I am so glad to get out of that."

Ryan laughed a little and said, "Sorry."

"Not your fault. I've never been in there when it's that crazy. Here's my car," said Brendon as he dug keys out of his pocket.

When Ryan followed the path that Brendon's finger was pointing out, he really wondered if he was just at the wrong angle, maybe Brendon had been pointing to a different car. But nope. Brendon sauntered on up to his car and fumbled with the keys for a moment.

It was a minivan. A purple minivan. Ryan tried really hard not to laugh.

"What?" Brendon asked as Ryan choked over his snickering.

"Well, it's just that," he started, then he fell into more stifled laughter. "I'm not sure how much better this is than the Geek Squad car."

"Ha ha," Brendon said, bumping Ryan's arm hard with his elbow. His smile was still in place. "When it's free and it runs, there's very little else you care about."

"But a purple minivan?" Ryan said incredulously. Brendon jabbed him with his elbow again.

"If you're going to be an asshole about it, then you can sit outside where there's no nice bucket seats or air-conditioning. Ha," Brendon said as-a-matter-of-factly.

Ryan quickly repented.

Once inside and settled with their paper-wrapped food in their laps, the talking slowly started up again. The small talk kept up for a good hour and a half, in which time Ryan learned that Brendon liked cosmetology and got his job at Geek Squad because one of his brothers was part of the management at the local center. It appeared that Brendon was a quick learner so he had picked up things relatively on the spot. Ryan also learned that Brendon liked to laugh very loudly, talk a lot, and always keep moving, whether that was his foot jiggling or his fingers tapping on his thigh. Obviously, Brendon had a lot of energy, but Ryan wondered if that was just nervousness or if he was like this all the time.

He told Brendon that he worked at a music store and was studying at the community college with a full scholarship. Brendon was impressed. He also told him that he liked to read and mess around on his guitar. Brendon seemed to take a keen interest in anything to do with Ryan and music, so they had a lot to talk about. They finished their food way before they ran out of things to say.

The small talk was fine. In fact, it was nice to just be casual and joke a little with each other, but once it began to die out, the conversation started getting big, silent holes punched in it. Ryan hated awkward silences. Comfortable ones were fine; he and Spencer had a lot of comfortable silences. But there was a way that Brendon was sitting, the way he would end his own sentences, that made Ryan think that there was something he wanted to say but wouldn't.

Tired of being subtle, Ryan said, "Something on your mind?"

Brendon fidgeted and began picking at a fraying thread on the hem of his shirt. "I just wanted to know something."

Ryan waited, but Brendon didn't continue. So he prompted him with a, "Yes?"

"Is this a, uh… like, a date? Or something?" Brendon said, mustering enough strength to not only say it out loud but also look Ryan in the eye at the same time. Granted, he looked like he had never been more uncomfortable in his life, but Ryan had to give him points for guts anyway.

Ryan sat motionless in the passenger seat for a moment or two, unsure of how to answer. Was it a date? Did he want it to be a date? Did this even count as a date?

"I'm not really sure, to tell you the truth," Ryan said with a small, embarrassed smile. He slumped a little in his chair and looked up apologetically at Brendon, hoping he would understand.

"It… it could be. If you wanted, that is," was Brendon reply.

Ryan still didn't know how to respond. He didn't really want Brendon to think he was interested in some sort of relationship, because Ryan was just too wishy-washy on his sexuality to know what the hell was going on. But he didn't want Brendon to think he wasn't interested, because Brendon was fun and nice and really attractive when he wasn't dressed like a nerd. He liked Brendon. He just didn't know if he like-liked him, yet. Or if he ever would.

"It's complicated," Ryan tried to explain. "I'm not even sure yet if I really am interested in guys."

Brendon was surprisingly accepting of Ryan's uncertainty. His eyes softened and he gently placed his hand on Ryan's shoulder, like he was trying to comfort him.

"We can keep things casual, if you want. That's ok," Brendon said, patting Ryan's shoulder reassuringly. It felt nice. "No pressure. I was just curious."

"I know, and you deserve to know, but I just. I still have no clue yet," Ryan said sheepishly.

Brendon took his hand away. Then he shifted a little and to face Ryan and curl one leg under himself. Slowly, he said, "Have you ever tried to figure it out?"

Ryan looked up at him, not really sure of his meaning. "As in…?"

"Well," Brendon said, "have you ever tried anything with a guy before?"

Ryan had a lightning-quick flashback of being sixteen years old and so scene it almost hurt, lips about two inches from another terribly scene boy's mouth before chickening out and pulling away.

"No," he said, a little embarrassed.

"Well then, you know, like," Brendon babbled, shifting some more and anchoring his hands on an armrest. "Would you?"

Ryan realized what Brendon was asking, and while part of him was positively giddy at the suggestion, another part was terrified. Even the idea of just kissing a boy was something so out of Ryan's (pretty large) comfort zone that it made his mind reel. The only thing that he could get out of his mouth was, "Oh."

"Just, I don't know, would you try something? …With me?" Brendon said, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. Ryan looked at his empty to-go bag and not at Brendon's face, which he was sure was sweet and slightly shy but trying to be bold.

Ryan thought about it for a long thirty seconds, a thick silence accompanying him, and then he looked over at Brendon and swallowed. Brendon raised his eyebrows inquiringly and waited.

"Ok," Ryan finally forced out. He just breathed for moment, trying to gather up the nerve, and then looked over to see Brendon with the biggest smile beaming on his face.

"Ok," he echoed, fingers fidgeting restlessly. "Just, uh, close your eyes or something."

Ryan felt like he was a freaking prepubescent teenager at his first boy-girl party (minus the girl part). He angled himself to face Brendon, shoulders squaring, and he rested his elbows on the armrest as he leaned forward. He took a shaky breath, looked at Brendon a little apprehensively, and closed his eyes like he was told.

The few seconds that Ryan sat there waiting for Brendon to do something were the longest in his entire life. He felt a little stupid just sitting there, waiting, nothing happening. Then he felt warm breath puffing against his mouth that was almost unnoticeable.

Their lips touched slowly and gently, not much pressure behind it. Then he felt fingertips come up under his chin and hold him steady. Brendon kissed him like he had all the time in the world, and Ryan was relieved. It was nice to just start small. Ryan let his lips brush hesitantly back, barely making contact and knowing that this was exactly how it should be.

Brendon pulled back and Ryan could feel Brendon's breath ghosting over him again.

"Good?" Brendon whispered.

Ryan kissed him one more time and then smiled. "Yeah."

"So do you consider yourself gay yet?" asked Spencer with his eyes still glued to the TV screen. To Spencer, Halo was serious business.

"You know, every time I think of that word, I think of those Broadway performers who would rather wear glittery scarves and make-up than sit and play video games like this," Ryan said, struggling to keep up with Spencer in the game.

"Dude, no offense, but I could see that being you," Spencer said, following with a laugh. And no matter how hard Ryan tried to think of a rebuttal, he came up with nothing to defend himself.

"I also see it as ruling out girls altogether. And I don't dislike girls," Ryan pointed out.

"But would you be gay for Brendon?" asked Spencer, fingers beating the buttons viciously. "Because it doesn't matter if you like girls or not, being with a guy means pretty much ruling out girls from the relationship."

"Yeah, I guess you have a point there," conceded Ryan.

"So?"

"So what?" Ryan died onscreen and he flung the controller at Spencer.

"So would you be gay for just Brendon? And do all the things gay couples do," Spencer asked. Sometimes Ryan liked Spencer because he tended to spell things out. Other times, Ryan hated him for that.

Ryan shrugged. "I suppose. I mean, kissing him was nice."

Spencer stopped him for a second and declared, "Before we go on, I'd like to make it known that I am The Best Straight Friend Ever for listening to you talking about kissing your boyfriend."

Ryan gave him a frosty look at the term boyfriend.

Then Spencer waved his hand and said, "Continue."

Ryan rolled his eyes before finishing his original thought. "Kissing was nice. He has pretty good lips and all. So I definitely wasn't complaining about the kissing. I guess that's something."

"Yeah, it's something, but it's not much. In my opinion, the only sure way to know if you're into dudes is to sleep with one."

Ryan's face contorted in horror. "Why would you say that at a time like this? I went and got food with him one time and you're talking about sex. I can barely wrap my head around kissing him, man!"

"I'm just saying."

"So why haven't you slept with one to know if you're not gay?" Ryan spat sarcastically.

"There are some of us who aren't such fence-sitters, my boy. I know I'm not gay because there has never been a guy in the history of ever who has appeared sexually attractive to me. I'm very sure about my orientation. You're not. Thus, you require more experimentation," Spencer said, quirking one eyebrow like that was the dumbest question Ryan's ever asked. And maybe, Ryan admitted, it sort of had been.

"You know, you could go back to being The Best Straight Friend Ever by not talking about me sleeping with Brendon."

"Fine by me," Spencer said, relaxing into the couch and starting a new level.

Life went on like normal and it was four more days until Ryan felt his sidekick vibrating in his pocket. There was an unknown number calling, and Ryan thought for a second that it might be his friend Pete who he was in a few college classes with. Pete liked to prank call him from time to time because there was apparently nothing else to do in the world.

"Yeah?" he answered tersely, ready to deal with Pete's stifled giggling and horrible attempts at foreign accents.

The voice on the other line hesitated for a moment before squeaking out, "Ryan?"

"Yeah, who's this?"

"This is, uh, Brendon." He sounded almost remorseful, like he was sorry for calling, he'll just leave now.

"Brendon!" exclaimed Ryan, his annoyance melting away. "Oh, hi! Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

Brendon gave a nervous, breathy laugh and said, "Yeah, sorry I never gave you my number before. I forgot."

"It's cool. What's up?"

"Well, I just wanted to see if, you know, you were busy this afternoon."

Ryan's stomach sank a little. "I have work until late. I'm actually just getting ready now."

"Oh, uh, ok. That's cool," said Brendon. He sounded so deflated that Ryan hoped Brendon didn't think work was code for anything to get out of this.

"But," Ryan said quickly, hoping to salvage things, "I only have to work from ten to four tomorrow. Can you hang out after that?"

Brendon's voice brightened as he said, "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good. My friend works at the Regal Cinemas in the mall. If you wanted to go see a movie, he can get us free tickets."

"Sounds good. I'll meet you at the theater at about five, is that ok?"

"Yeah, five, awesome!" sputtered Brendon. Ryan smiled.

"Alright, I'll see you then."

"So about how much of the movie did you actually watch?" Spencer asked, his voice tinny over the phone.

"I cannot believe you're asking me that," Ryan groused as he waited for the light to turn green at the intersection.

"Dude, you called me to tell me about your date with Brendon. Which, by the way, makes you such a fucking girl. Unless you have a story to tell, then I'm hanging up with you because I have Haley on the other line."

Ryan ignored Spencer's girl comment and, instead, said, "It still was not a date, and we watched the whole movie, thank you very much."

"Bye, Ryan."

When Ryan got home from the theater, his hand was still warm from Brendon's and his lips tingled a little from a short goodbye kiss.

Weeks went by like that. Ryan and Brendon mostly hung out casually, sometimes just sitting in Ryan's house and watching TV or listening to music. Things were very slow and laid-back, which made Ryan infinitely more comfortable.

Before they parted, they would always kiss just once. A quick peck on the lips before Brendon walked out the door or they both walked to their own separate cars. Sometimes it felt very platonic, like an equivalent to a hug before saying goodbye. Other times, Ryan could feel his nerves sparking and something so tiny it was barely molecular burning in his stomach. Brendon was sweet and didn't push for anything, though. He seemed more than content just being around Ryan as a friend. A friend whom he liked to cuddle with a lot.

It was a little over two months after their first run at Del Taco that Ryan and Brendon were slumped on Ryan's couch watching an old documentary on Ben Franklin. Ryan couldn't remember why on earth they had turned it on, but it was oddly fascinating now that they were sucked into it and their minds were starting to cloud from being tired. It was getting late, but neither of them really noticed the time.

Brendon was situated into Ryan's side with his head on his shoulder. One hand was rested on Ryan's belly, not moving but warm and pleasant all the same. Ryan had his own hand over Brendon's and his cheek on top of Brendon's head. He could smell Brendon's hair wax.

In the haze of sleepiness, he felt something shifting on his stomach, and when he glanced down, Brendon's thumb was slowly moving back and forth over the material of Ryan's shirt. It felt good, soothing, so Ryan didn't tell him to stop. He just sighed a little and closed his eyes.

His own hand slipped off of Brendon and fell lifelessly at his side as Brendon's thumb kept brushing over the thin shirt. Ryan almost sighed again when Brendon started using his middle finger to draw lazy swirls and circles on Ryan's stomach. With nerves dulled by drowsiness, Brendon's touch was like a light in the fog, softened around the edges.

Brendon's fingers snuck up underneath Ryan's shirt and found bare skin waiting. Ryan wasn't sure if it was the sleepiness or not, but god, it felt so good to have Brendon touching him, even as lightly as he was. He found himself breathing at the same pace as before but rougher. His exhales were a little louder and he forgot to care if Brendon heard.

Suddenly, he noticed the hot breath drifting over his neck. Brendon must have moved his head to angle inward and there he was, breathing a little too close and dragging his fingertips along Ryan's stomach.

That tiny, molecular sized heat that would sometimes bury itself in Ryan's stomach was growing steadily. With every stroke of fingers and every wave of breath, Ryan could feel it getting worse.

The softest kiss landed on the skin of Ryan's neck and he shivered, breath quaking as he let it out. Then Brendon did it again, lips pressed against Ryan's neck sweetly. Then another kiss, harder, wetter. It escalated until Brendon's hand was splayed out on Ryan's stomach beneath the shirt and he was sucking on Ryan's pulse point. Ryan couldn't breathe. When he did, it always came out so hard it was almost a moan. He tried to keep it in, though.

With only the blue glow of the TV as a dim light, Brendon kissed up his neck until Ryan tilted his head down and they kissed hard on the mouth. For a few moments, it was hard to register it as Brendon. Brendon's kisses were light and swift. They didn't ask for anything more. But here was Brendon, lips pressed so hard to Ryan's that the older boy was sure they'd be red and swollen in no time at all. Then something completely fizzled out in his brain when Brendon swiped his tongue along the seam of Ryan's mouth, and he was suddenly making out on his couch with Brendon on top of him.

It felt like an hour later when they finally slowed down and Ryan took two seconds to look at a clock.

"It's one in the morning," he realized aloud.

"Shit," said Brendon, rubbing his eyes. "I have an assignment for work at seven tomorrow."

"You can sleep here tonight if you need to," offered Ryan hopefully.

Brendon chuckled darkly, and Ryan felt like that hidden part of Brendon that he had caught that first day was coming out. Brendon was still hovering over him, and he brought his lips close enough to Ryan's to brush as he said, "I probably wouldn't sleep very much with you here."

Ryan shuddered and kissed Brendon again, hard and needy like before. His hands were still clutching the sides of Brendon's shirt as if he was using it to keep Brendon from floating away.

Like the responsible little fucker he was, Brendon pulled away and sat up. He shook his head to wake himself up a little more and then grabbed the hoodie he had slung over the back of the couch hours ago.

"I'll see you later," he said, the darkness still clinging to his voice.

Ryan got up and saw him to the door where they leaned in for their normal goodbye kiss. To no one's surprise, it exploded into another five-minute kiss with Brendon pressing Ryan against the doorframe until they were both panting. Once again, it was Brendon who pulled away.

"Goodnight," he said with hooded eyes and a sly smile.

"'Night," breathed Ryan. He watched Brendon get in his car and drive off.

After locking the front door and turning off the lights in his house, Ryan undressed down to his boxers and crawled into bed where he jerked off slowly until he came saying Brendon's name under his breath.

The next time he saw Brendon, in the parking lot of Panera, instead of just saying hello and asking about each other's day, they kissed before any words were spoken, like they couldn't wait another moment for that little spark again. Ryan was proud of himself for not suggesting they go in the back of Brendon's car for a few minutes before going to lunch.

Ryan was glad, though, that all the other pleasantries like talking about their day and just having innocent fun together didn't dissolve with this new development. As much as Ryan really liked this new thing, he would have missed their old things more.

Once inside Panera and settled at a table with their soup and sandwiches, Ryan said, "So I've made a decision."

"And what's that?" Brendon said as he slurped up broccoli cheddar soup.

"You know how, for the longest time, I was really unsure about my whole take on guys and whatnot?"

Brendon knew where this was going. "Uh-huh."

"I think I have a better idea now. Done some thinking, and after… well, you know," Ryan said, watching Brendon blush a little, "I think I can confidently say that, yes, this is a date, Brendon."

Brendon laughed so hard that the people around them stopped eating to give him strange looks. When he stopped snorting into his own hand, face red and eyes watering, he said, "So I guess that means my powers of persuasion are pretty effective, huh?"

"What, you planned that?" Ryan said. He narrowed his eyes over his sandwich at Brendon, expecting an explanation.

Brendon laughed again and shook his head. "No, not that time. I planned a lot of things but just didn't have the balls to go through with them. I would have seduced you, like, twelve times already if I was going on planning. But I didn't."

Ryan gave him a mock sympathetic look and said, "Because you're such a shy little thing."

"Only when you're around," Brendon said, looking up from under his eyelashes in a very not-shy fashion.

When they finished their food, they left to go to the theater. Some indie film had become really popular at film festivals and was playing a few times that week. Ryan wanted to catch it before they stopped showing it.

In Ryan's head, it felt like a first date. He couldn't stop getting excited over those words.

"None of it, dude," Ryan said the moment Spencer said hello on his end of the line.

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked a very confused Spencer.

"We went to see a movie and I didn't watch any of it."

"Fuck, seriously? Are you guys, like, fooling around now? Because if you are—"

"Bye, Spencer," Ryan said before smugly thumbing off his phone.

Three more months and Ryan and Brendon were calling each other boyfriends.

Despite whatever Spencer might have thought after hearing the story behind Ryan's epiphany ("Dudes are actually not so bad."), Ryan considered himself a pretty classy guy when it came to relationships. Spencer would then always point out his "Fling Phase," but Ryan always argued that keyword in his previous statement was "relationships." A one-night stand didn't constitute a relationship. Spencer usually just grumbled that Ryan was splitting hairs.

However, the point was that Ryan was dignified and respectful in a relationship. As such, he had waited until he and Brendon were officially boyfriends to ask anything very personal or sexual.

"How many guys have you dated, Brendon?" he had asked once when they were out by a public lake, walking along the shore with shoes in hand. A boat pulling a water-skier rumbled passed them.

"One before you. He didn't last very long though. Like, a few weeks," Brendon explained.

"Why was that?"

Brendon shrugged and said, "I think we were just so young that he didn't have much figured out. He was more curious about guys than he was interested in me, you know? Then he had a big sexual identity crisis and snatched up a girlfriend before I could argue."

"I'm sorry," Ryan said, bumping his shoulder against Brendon's companionably.

"It's no big deal. Whatever. I understand why he did it, and it's better that he did," said Brendon. He sounded very sure of himself and Ryan was proud of him. But then he wondered how long it took for Brendon to be so solid in his statement. He tried not to think about that very much because it drew his mind to visions of a broken-hearted, confused Brendon. It made his stomach churn.

And then Ryan couldn't help by pry. "And… about how curious was he?"

Brendon looked up at him and asked, "What do you mean? Like, how far did we go?"

Ryan nodded.

Brendon looked down at the hot sand and shrugged again, but he seemed nervous this time. "Well, you know…"

Ryan bumped his shoulder against Brendon's and said, "How far?"

"He's… the first and only boy I've ever slept with," Brendon admitted, voice low and wavering a little. He didn't look at Ryan.

"And you were only together for a few weeks?" said Ryan incredulously.

"We were young, and with all those fucking hormones rattling our brains around, it was hard to think very clearly. And when someone says to you, hey, I'm gonna fuck you, in the middle of a hand job, you stop remembering how to say no."

Ryan was a little taken back by Brendon's bluntness, and he saw Brendon shrink back into himself.

"Sorry, that was… too much," he said.

They didn't say much else until the sun started going down and they said goodbye, just a normal little peck.

Ryan had plenty to think about that night. But in the end, he took Brendon's word for it."It's no big deal."

He tried to convince himself that he wasn't jealous.

Ryan had to hand it to himself for the miraculous amount of self-control he had. Brendon surely had some part in that, but not a day went by that Ryan didn't think about more, how he wanted more but was afraid to ask for it, afraid that he might not like it.

He would rather completely avoid the sexual side of things if that was what he had to do to stay with Brendon. However, something told him that he didn't really want to avoid all that, after all. But he wasn't sure. He kept hearing Spencer's voice in his head telling him the only way he would be sure was to sleep with Brendon.

Ryan was unsure about that simply because he didn't want to force anything just because he had to check something out for himself. And it wasn't like there was any rush. Obviously, Brendon liked him with or without sex, so he could afford to wait a while until he figured it was the right time.

The right time didn't come as soon as he might have wished, but something came about a week later when the two were sitting in those familiar bucket seats in front of Del Taco. When Brendon leaned across and gave Ryan a quick, happy kiss, it was like a flashback to the first night. He smiled brilliantly and just looked so fucking glad to be there with Ryan.

A quick kiss turned into another, longer kiss. And then somehow they ended up sprawled across the very back seat, tongues in each other's mouths and Brendon's hands on Ryan's hips, thumbs rubbing in circles on the edge of the sharp bones. Part of Ryan knew that this had been mostly his doing because Brendon was talking about being hungry enough to eat a burrito the size of his car, not to mention how Brendon seemed to be the more gentlemanly of the two (no matter how classy Ryan was in relationships). Brendon certainly wasn't complaining, at least.

In fact, it was Brendon who moaned first, hands tightening around Ryan's hips while they kissed. He mumbled something indiscernible against Ryan's lips and Ryan had to have him repeat it.

"If I unzip your pants, are you going to freak out on me?" he said very calmly. Ryan was sort of freaking out at just the idea of it, but he shook his head and Brendon's hand slid inward until it landed on the button of Ryan's jeans. Ryan tried not to blow this up in his head to where he became nervous and on the verge of hyperventilating. That would just not be sexy, at a time like this. But maybe he could disguise it as arousal rather than worry. Maybe. He filed that away, just in case he needed to use it sometime.

Brendon silently popped the button out of the hole and pulled the zipper down. Ryan's blood was hammering through him, and he could feel it moving at every pulse point of his body, ready to break him open with the force. They were still kissing as Brendon reached his hand inside and touched the outline of Ryan's hardening cock through his underwear. Slowly, a little unsure too, Brendon caged his hand around it and squeezed gently. Ryan's breath hissed out between his teeth and his head fell back against the seat.

Then without hesitation, Brendon's fingers pried back the underwear just enough to let his hand inside, and then it was just Brendon with his hand circled around Ryan's cock. He didn't even move, at first, almost as if he was waiting for Ryan to take a moment and let it all sink in. While Ryan would have been grateful pretty much any other time, Ryan wasn't sure he needed time to over-think this. And on top of that, Brendon moving his hand felt a whole lot better than just letting it stay there, half limp.

When Brendon actually did start getting things going, Ryan was already gasping and clinging to the backseat to ground himself a little. Being touched by a boy instead of a girl was weirdly different. Brendon's hands were bigger than any girl he'd let touch his cock, even bigger than Ryan's. That was new. Also, his hands were a little rougher than Ryan was used to. It was different. Not bad, but certainly different.

He felt like he was wheezing as Brendon slowly stroked up and down, the restriction of his pants becoming quite bothersome. Regardless, Brendon was making do with the room they had, and Ryan had no complaints as his bones began to jellify. Ryan felt a little bad that he was surprised at Brendon for being so talented. In the back of his mind, he knew that Brendon had done this before, but it still took Ryan off guard. Somewhere in Brendon, there was still that guy in the Geek Squad uniform.

Ryan hoped that no unfortunate passersby would happen to be walking near Brendon's car right then, because he had never been so loud just getting jerked off before. He was groaning loud and panting while Brendon stayed so stoic and calm. The only thing that gave him away was the way his pants fit a bit too snuggly around the crotch.

Ryan watched Brendon intently. Watched him pay close attention to everything he was doing and stay so focused in that moment. Brendon looked like there was nothing else in the world on his mind other than what was right in front of him, just Ryan. His eyes didn't stray and his hand didn't falter. He was ridiculously good at this, the stupid fucker.

Brendon must have seen Ryan looking at him, because he glanced up from under his bangs with almost a questioning look, hand still moving and making Ryan incapable of deep breathing. The inquisitive glance quickly dissolved and faded into something more familiar. That look. That look that Brendon liked to give when he had Ryan right where he wanted him. Right in the palm of his hand—and not just literally.

The rare glimpses of that look that Ryan caught were always thrilling. Brendon's eyes would go so dark that the brown would practically turn black, and his mouth would twist into a smug sort of smirk, lips parted just barely. Any vibes of uncertainty or timidity were replaced with confidence and smooth charisma. The change was sometimes staggeringly quick. One instant, Brendon could be hiding his smiles and giggling nervously at a compliment, and the next he could look up at Ryan with cloudy eyes.

Ryan could never refuse Brendon when he was like this. He couldn't fully understand why.

You stop learning how to say no.

Maybe Brendon understood, though, even if Ryan didn't quite get it.

With those intense eyes still locked onto his, Ryan felt that first warning spark, the one signaling that any moment, he was about to lose it. He held his eyes open on purpose and through the garbled moaning, tried to warn Brendon. Brendon just nodded and kissed him.

He came with a muffled cry while Brendon kissed him hard on the mouth and brought him all the way through it, hand jerking harder and faster. Once it was all over, Ryan felt like he had melted into the backseat.

The air was quiet for the first time since things flared up. Ryan got his breathing under control and watched Brendon crawl to the front of the van and pull napkins out of the glove compartment to clean up the small mess. He didn't look at Ryan while he did it, even while he wiped the drying come off of Ryan's low, low belly.

Ryan felt the awkwardness setting in, shy Brendon coming back and not taking charge of the situation like Ryan wished he would.

Ryan felt obligated to ask, "…Do you want me to… for you?"

Ryan felt muscles unwind when Brendon smiled at him and said, "No, that was just for you."

Things were still a little strange, but at least Ryan felt like there was some pressure off. He still felt bad for leaving Brendon with a hard-on, but perhaps that little adventure was best saved for another time. Besides, he had offered and Brendon said no. No reason to feel guilty.

They waited a few moments, just getting their bearings and fixing themselves up, before grabbing keys and wallets on their way out of the car. The stale, uncomfortable mood melted away even further when Brendon opened the side door and proclaimed to the parking lot, "I. Am. Hungry."

Ryan laughed and followed him into Del Taco like it was any other day.

A day or two later, Brendon asked Ryan if he'd like to come and hang out at his apartment. Of course, he happily agreed, anxious to finally see Brendon's place.

Part of Ryan felt a little awkward about it considering that they had been dating for a while and he had never seen where Brendon lived. It was this big part of Brendon's life that he had no idea about, and he was afraid to get there and find something like a bondage chamber or a freakishly large Powerpuff Girls collection. He could never rule much out when it came to Brendon.

Brendon gave the address and told Ryan he'd meet him outside so he wouldn't have to bother with buzzing him in. Twenty minutes later, Ryan pulled into the parking lot of a decent apartment complex and saw Brendon sitting on the curb of the sidewalk. He jumped to his feet when he noticed Ryan's car coming his way, and a hand flew up and waved a little too enthusiastically. Ryan chuckled to himself.

The elevator ride to his floor was short, and the walk down the hall was even shorter before Ryan was standing before Brendon's apartment door and hoping that his bondage chamber fear was completely irrational and unfounded. Brendon smiled a little as he fought to get the key in the lock ("It sticks," he explained, followed by a quick apology) and Ryan watched the door swing open and reveal the apartment inside.

To Ryan's relief, it was very normal, if not bland, and littered with things that people don't seem to worry about when living alone—a dirty plate on the table and shoes thrown haphazardly in the middle of the floor. It felt comfortable and lived in.

"This is it," Brendon said very predictably, gesturing to the whole of it.

The first thing that caught Ryan's eye was the impressive shelf of CD's sitting in the corner of the room.

"What do you have?" asked Ryan as he walked towards it.

"Oh, mostly oldies and things. Some random stuff thrown in there like… Broadway, or whatever," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

Ryan nodded and laughed quietly, mostly at Brendon's ridiculous habit of being so unsure of himself. "Put something on."

"Oh, uh, ok," replied Brendon. He ran a finger across the row of cases and stopped on one before pulling it out.

"The Beatles?" said Ryan.

"Might as well start out with a classic," said Brendon, smiling.

"Are they good?"

Brendon stopped moving and then looking up at Ryan with wide eyes like, once again, Ryan was the loser. "Do not tell me that you've never listened to the Beatles."

"Um?" Ryan shrugged.

Brendon clicked his tongue and put a CD into the stereo waiting close by. "I'm here to introduce you to the Fab Four. Your life will never be the same."

Three hours later, Ryan felt a little like an idiot after getting into a music debate with Brendon and realizing just how little he knew or had listened to. Brendon had sworn to burn him copies of every good CD he owned so Ryan could finally start living.

"You are so lucky you have me," Brendon said seriously.

"What would I do without you?" replied Ryan.

"Probably sit and waste away your unfulfilling life in the music store where you work. Dude, how have you worked in a job centered around music and never heard of some of these groups?"

Ryan tried not to hang his head, but he'd never been criticized so harshly about his taste in music. "Maybe… maybe I just wasn't ready. There's just some music that people sometimes aren't ready for. Maybe I just wasn't ready for Bob Dylan yet," said Ryan, throwing out a random name.

Brendon made a face as to say, how can someone not be ready for Bob Dylan? Then he rolled his eyes and patted Ryan on the shoulder in a buddy-like way, saying, "We'll culture you soon enough, Ryan."

They both laughed.

It had been such a good night complete with great music and pretty awesome leftovers from Brendon's fridge. While they tried to reheat portions of fettuccine alfredo, Ryan looked over at Brendon and smiled, thinking that he would have been happy just being friends with him because the kid was a lot of fun. Then he felt a little charge of excitement knowing that he got more than that. He'd leaned over and kissed Brendon at that moment, and Brendon just grinned as he pulled his food out of his old microwave.

But as great of a night it was, it turned awkward right around midnight when Ryan noticed the time and said he should probably be heading home.

Brendon held onto his wrist when Ryan tried to get up from the couch and said, "You could always stay here for the night. I could sleep on the couch. Or, you know. With you."

Ryan opened his mouth to say no, he had work in the morning, but when he looked at Brendon to respond, he just stopped. It was like the black of Brendon's pupils was bleeding around the edges until they were turning dark as pitch, staring Ryan down like he knew it was all he had to do to get what he wanted. Ryan felt his resolve weakening.

"I'm not sure that'd work so well," Ryan stammered.

Brendon tugged on Ryan's wrist until he came back down to sit by him.

"Please," Brendon said, face close and fingers rubbing circles into Ryan's pulse.

"I have to… wake up sort of early," Ryan said, struggling to hold onto his train of thought as Brendon edged closer.

"We'll set an alarm," he practically breathed against Ryan's cheek. Ryan shivered and let his eyes flutter almost closed as Brendon mouthed at his ear. Ryan was getting more agreeable by the second.

As one last attempt, he said, "I don't want to bother you in the morning when I have to get up."

Brendon's mouth slid down from Ryan's earlobe to right under the corner of his jaw, sucking and nipping as Ryan started to tremble. He flicked his tongue out and licked delicately at the edge of Ryan's jaw before saying, "I'll get over it."

Ryan grabbed a handful of Brendon's hair and pulled him up to meet him at the mouth, desperate but unsure. Unsure of what might happen once their lips met again. Maybe Ryan would kiss Brendon and suddenly have this big epiphany and realize, oh shit, he didn't like guys after all.

Ryan was becoming a little afraid of his own heterosexuality.

As if Brendon knew he was thinking too hard, he stroked down the back of Ryan's neck and twirled his fingers in the ends of Ryan's hair, a trick he must have learned months ago and used all the time to calm Ryan down. Ryan stopped pressing so hard, easing off on the kiss into something more gentle and languid.

"How do you do that?" Ryan said, leaning his forehead against Brendon's.

"What are you talking about?"

"Whenever I get worked up, you get eerily calm."

Brendon smiled and pulled lightly on the hair curled around his fingers. "I don't know. Maybe it makes it easier for me to be calm when you're more nervous than I am."

Ryan chuckled and Brendon went in for another kiss, longer and a more purposeful. It was just minutes before they were making out, sprawled along Brendon's couch and kissing like they had moments left to live.

It was great. It was wonderful, and Ryan couldn't remember being this turned on by kissing since he was fifteen. However, the mood was shot to the ground when Brendon gently took Ryan's hand and tried to fit it around the crotch of his jeans. The moment Ryan's hands touched Brendon's erection, something snapped in his brain and he was wriggling out of Brendon's grasp.

"Ryan?" Brendon said, honestly confused.

Ryan's eyes darted around the room, unable to focus on anything, and he fidgeted as he said, "It's, uh, getting really late and, like, I don't know how well I'll sleep in some unfamiliar place. I really need to head home. Now."

Brendon shook his head seemingly at himself, and he looked up at Ryan with eyes full of hurt.

"I'm sorry," he said unsteadily, not really sure what he was apologizing for.

"It's cool, but I gotta run. I'll, uh, see you later." And Ryan was out the door with his keys before Brendon replied.

One week later, Ryan still didn't have the balls to address the issue.

He answered his phone with a quick, "Yeah," when he read Spencer's name on the display.

"Hey, man. Haley wanted to go check out the art show downtown today. Since that's more your area of expertise, I wanted to know if you felt like coming. I'm sure Haley would like it more if she had someone to actually talk about art with," Spencer said, laughing a little at the end.

Ryan grinned and agreed.

He drove to Spencer's house and rode with them down to the outdoor show. A full four blocks had been sectioned off for the show, making traffic a killer, and finding a parking space was like finding the lost bag at the airport. Predictably, Spencer was a little frazzled once they were out of the car and walking up to the first displays. But Haley just held his hand and rubbed his arm until he softened.

It was wonderful. The display tents showcased gorgeous art from individual local artists, and Ryan liked to chat with them while Haley inspected each piece closely. Spencer just held onto her hand and talked with Ryan while Haley was engrossed in the art.

"So, out of curiosity, how are you and Brendon doing?" Spencer said casually. "Haven't heard about in him almost a week, which is probably a record by now."

Ryan tried to seem nonchalant. "We're doing ok."

"Oh?" Spencer said with a smirk. "Last time you talked about him, things seemed to be pretty fantastic."

Haley's eyes broke away from a blown-glass vase and she looked up at Ryan with soft eyes. "Are you and Brendon not doing so well?"

"Uh, I guess not," Ryan said. He was sort of surprised that Haley even knew who he was talking about. But then again, he probably should have counted on Spencer to tell her everything.

"Did something happen?" she said, suddenly more interested in Ryan's love life than the stunning paintings in the next tent.

"I'm just… I don't know. I think I'm still a little unsure about some things," Ryan said, smoothing his hair down.

"Like what?" Spencer prodded.

"Well," Ryan said, taking a breath, "it's this whole physical thing, you know."

"Oh, Ryan," Haley said with a concerned look. "Is he forcing you into stuff?"

"Oh, no! Not at all!" Ryan quickly replied. "No, he's actually been really patient with me during all this. But it's just that I feel like something's wrong if I don't want to… be with someone I'm dating."

"I appreciate your tact and all," Spencer said with a familiar grin, "but you can say 'fuck.' It's cool, we're not thirteen anymore."

Ryan's attempt at keeping things from getting crude was clearly a waste of effort. He smiled anyway. "Fine then. I don't know if I want to fuck him but I feel like I should. I mean, don't get me wrong, I think he's attractive and I'd like to do way more than just kiss him, but when we actually get much beyond that, I just feel… awkward."

Haley took Ryan's hand while they walked, trying to comfort and assure him, Ryan guessed. She said, "You still don't know if you're gay yet," and it wasn't a question.

Ryan shrugged. He sidestepped out of the way of two kids running past on the crowded street.

"It's hard to tell, for some people," she said, eyes lingering on tents as the three walked by them. "There are guys who know they're gay or straight their whole lives, and then there are ones like you who have to figure it out. Now, not to insult you or anything, but this sort of sounds like when teenage girls fall in love with their best friends."

Spencer laughed and didn't even try to stifle it. Ryan slugged him but Spencer still sounded like he was half-crying with amusement. He managed to snort something that sounded like, "You just called Ryan a teenage girl."

Haley slapped him good-naturedly on the arm and continued. "What I meant was that a lot of girls think they've fallen for their best friend because that's the only person who they feel like loves them for who they really are. And since girls go through so much shit because of guys in their teens, it's easy for them to look to their friends for the love they normally want from guys. They crave the comfort and emotional connection so much that they can overlook the vag to get it. Do you think you're just in it for the comfort and connection? From the sounds of things, you're only unsure when you're put in sexual situations."

Ryan replied with, "It's like… I want more in theory, but when put in the situation of getting more, I freak out."

"So maybe Brendon really is a great person for you and you love him for his personality," added Spencer, "but that doesn't mean you're gay."

"I can't believe myself for liking him as a person. What was I thinking?" Ryan laughed. Haley threw in a matching sarcastic comment and they all chuckled a little.

"But the point is it still doesn't make you gay," said Spencer.

"But what if I am gay?" Ryan pressed. He wasn't ready to give this up yet. "I kind of want to be gay because Brendon is great and I hate the idea of not being with him."

"That might be your problem right there," Haley said. Her eyebrows knitted together sympathetically.

"Let me put it this way," Spencer said logically, "you're either confused but straight or such a virgin that it's not even funny."

Ryan gave him a hard glare and Haley snickered a little.

"I'm just trying to be sure," insisted Ryan. He noticed a funnel cake stand up ahead and his stomach rumbled.

"I hate to tell you this, Ry, but this is the sort of thing you shouldn't have stepped into the relationship with," Haley said, voice soft despite her frankness. "And now you can only either break up with him and let him have a healthy relationship with some other guy or get over your blushing bride syndrome and fuck him."

Ryan rolled his eyes, but it got him thinking.

They left the art show after another hour or so with stomachs full of funnel cake. When Ryan went to get into his car in Spencer's driveway, Haley grabbed him by the elbow and said, "Let me know how things pan out, ok?"

Ryan nodded and gave her a small smile. Spencer would probably appreciate it if Ryan stopped giving him updates, anyway.

Another week passed and Ryan still hadn't spoken to Brendon.

It was a stupid, black and white Geek Squad car pulling up beside him on the road that was the final straw for Ryan. Still driving home from work, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket and called Brendon.

"Hello?" said Brendon cheerfully. Ryan hoped he'd given the caller ID a look and wasn't just giving his standard greeting.

"…Hey. It's me," said Ryan, fingers shaking a little.

Brendon paused and his voice dropped lower when he said, "Oh, hey."

Ryan sighed a little. So maybe his fear of Brendon refusing to speak to him was a little overdramatic, but Brendon didn't sound overjoyed to hear from him.

"Haven't talked in a while," Ryan said, a little lamely, he had to admit.

"I wanted to give you some space," replied Brendon.

"Thank you… for that. I just called to… I don't know, I wanted to talk to you," fumbled Ryan.

"Wanted to talk, like, to chat, or like, we need to have a serious discussion sort of talking?"

Ryan shrugged in only his own presence. "Both, I suppose."

Brendon sighed from the other end and said, "Can you tell me what happened? Why you flipped out."

"I didn't flip out."

"Ryan," Brendon said. "You bolted from my house like a scared rabbit."

Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, phone growing warm against his cheek. "Maybe I was a little surprised."

"Surprised? We've been together for months and you're surprised that I want you to touch me?" Instead of being irritated, Brendon started laughing.

"Yeah! Surprised," Ryan said defensively. "You know I've never been with a guy before."

Brendon quieted his tittering and said, "Well, yeah, but it's not like you're a complete virgin. You've had sex, Ryan. You've touched other people's naked bits and they've touched yours. Hell, I've touched yours. This would probably be a little easier to deal with if it was just you being self-conscious or something. But it's almost like…"

"Like what?" Ryan prompted when Brendon trailed off.

"Like you just don't want to touch me."

Ryan was solemnly silent for a minute. Even in his silence, Brendon's sounded crushed.

"It's not what you think," Ryan tried to explain.

"Then what is it, Ryan?" spat Brendon, starting to lose patience.

Ryan mentally groped for words to correctly articulate what his dilemma was. After a few struggling noises, he said, "I'm just not used to things."

"Not used to things or not sure of things, Ryan? There's a difference. 'Cause I can work with you not being used to things. But when you doubt your sexuality when you're with me, there's very little I can do."

Ryan began to panic. This conversation was going in the completely wrong direction. He was meaning to call up, apologize, and try to explain to Brendon that he just wanted a chance to get accustomed to things. Things were starting to go off track, and they were going to crash any second.

"Please just give me some time," said Ryan.

"You know what, I've given you time and I've given you space, but there's a point where you can't blame it on your damn nerves anymore," said Brendon, temper flaring briefly. Ryan felt his resolve melting against Brendon's exasperation.

There was an uncomfortably long, pregnant pause, and Ryan waited for Brendon to continue.

"And… I don't know what you expect of me, Ryan," said Brendon. His tone softened to an almost defeated whimper. "I'm too fucking attracted to you to be satisfied with just kissing and cuddling all the time. As much as I love you, I can't be in a relationship with you where you won't fucking touch me. Like you're dangling yourself in front of me but won't let me have you."

"Brendon, wait," Ryan started. His throat was beginning to constrict, a nasty taste invading his mouth.

Brendon sighed and concluded with, "I would rather be just friends with you if you can't handle us being together sexually."

"No, no, no," Ryan chanted, one hand gripping the steering wheel hard. "No, please. Don't."

"Take some more time to work it out, Ry. Call me when you have your shit together." Brendon's voice was tinged with something bitter.

"No, no, wait!" Ryan pleaded. But Brendon had already hung up the phone.

It was a miracle that he could manage to breathe for the rest of the way home. And when he finally unlocked the front door and dropped his jacket on the kitchen table, he barely managed to keep from breaking down into tears.

Time started to be very significant without Brendon around. Ryan was aware of every day he wasn't there, like his brain had started making deep, jagged tally marks inside his head without him knowing. It would explain the headaches, though.

He tried working more hours to fill up the time he would have spent with Brendon. He hung out with Spencer a little more, but he always felt like he was dragging the mood down. Mostly, he was alone in his house. He took to writing more, plunging into community college homework with substantial force. His professor was impressed with his recent work, even if it was a little darker than normal.

"It's like an emotional tidal wave hitting me as I'm reading this," she'd said, eyes running over the paper.

Ryan usually just shrugged when she would compliment him. Writing beautiful pieces of poetry and compelling short stories was doing nothing to aid him in real life. While he would have considered them accomplishments before, they just seemed so pointless now.

For days, he felt like the only thing he actually accomplished was staying alive.

He slept fitfully for the first week or two. It was hard for him to settle down enough to actually fall asleep, and he slept so lightly that he didn't feel rested at all in the mornings.

More time went by and his body couldn't take it. He was exhausting himself, and one night, he drifted off while reading on his couch. And for the first time since he'd last talked to Brendon, things were peaceful.

When he finally regained some sense of consciousness, the world felt fuzzy and dimmed around the edges, like Ryan was drunk but didn't remember getting into any alcohol. The colors in front of his eyes made a blur of neutral tones. Skin tones. Hair. Things starts coming into focus a little better and he started to realize he was looking at a person. Who, he couldn't tell, and he hadn't the faintest idea what they were doing. But… there was movement. It was slow, but they were still shifting rhythmically.

All of a sudden, Ryan forgot about what he was looking at and felt a piercing-like sensation shooting through him. He cried out and gritted his teeth, hands balling into fists. Then he felt it melt away into something warm and pleasurable, the pain dissolving into a heavy need in his stomach. He couldn't clear his head long enough to wonder what was going on anymore.

His breathing moved a little faster, hitching on the end when that sharp feeling would sometimes strike his nerves. It came to him that he was moving too, rocking his body back and forth. Before long, the pleasure spread to every fingertip until even the pain started to feel good. Overwhelmingly good, really. It was only then that Ryan started to understand, "Oh, this is one of those dreams."

It'd been years since Ryan had had a wet dream, but he remembered that the only thing actually good about them was that everything felt amplified, every tiny nerve so tight that the smallest stimulation felt staggering. He could feel the sweat beading up on his skin. He could feel his whole body pulsing, his cock throbbing. It felt so fucking amazing that Ryan couldn't keep himself from moaning and gasping, head thrown back.

A mouth came down to suck on the stretch of exposed neck, and he was reminded that he wasn't alone. Without thinking about it, he reached up and tangled his fingers in short, thick hair. However, his fingers stuck a little like they were traveling through hair wax.

His brain stopped for a second. Hair wax. Brendon. It was Brendon's hair.

His heart hammered harder in his chest and another moan slipped out between his teeth. Brendon chuckled darkly, using that voice that he only used when his eyes would go smoky and his body would turn fluid.

"Oh, god. Oh, god," Ryan whined, hips moving faster and harder.

That's when something came into the spotlight. The way his hips were moving was strange and awkward, not the way he was used to. He felt his knees hit his shoulders and the dulling pain hitting oddly low, and things started to come in a little clearer.

The visual sharpened and Brendon was on his hands and knees over Ryan, hips beating hard against Ryan's ass, fucking him.

Like the realization was almost too much, Ryan's eyes rolled back and he breathed out, "Oh, god, Brendon."

The litany of groans and "fuck" spilled out of Brendon's pretty mouth, and Ryan echoed them louder, rolling his hips up to meet with every keen thrust. It felt perfect.

He wondered how he could ever have doubted himself, how he could ever have fooled himself into thinking that he didn't want this. God, he wanted it. Wanted it hard and dirty and with Brendon. And he didn't want it to stop. He wanted to have this until they were coming their brains out, and then he wanted to turn Brendon around and fuck him next. No doubt. No question.

"More," Ryan said, back arching. "Please, more."

Brendon responded with a sharp thrust and his hand slithered down to sloppily stroke Ryan. The world started rushing around him and he felt like he was being inflated, like he was rising up and up and up and he was a little afraid of how he was going to come down. Fear started curling in the pit of his stomach along with a delicious heat that had him practically screaming as Brendon rammed into him and jerked a shaky hand over Ryan's cock.

Static crackled in his ears and all he could really process was the flood of sensations, all too overpowering for him to know what to do. And all of a sudden, he felt like he was falling from a cliff but with a sense of calm that made it impossible to feel afraid of hitting the ground.

With a jolt, he awoke and found himself on his couch with a slimy feeling in the front of his jeans, heart still pounding and forehead a little damp from sweat.

"Fuck," he breathed.

Before Haley even uttered a greeting, Ryan jumped in with, "Haley? Do you have a minute?"

"It is currently eight in the morning, and normally you're not awake at this hour." The neither am I went unspoken.

"Something happened. I think I just figured things out," said Ryan, finger twitching excitedly.

"What exactly does that mean?" asked Haley sluggishly.

"I had a dream about Brendon last night."

"Is it safe to assume what kind you had?" Haley laughed.

"It was fucking awesome." Haley laughed harder.

"Last time I checked, you were twenty years old, not fourteen. If Spencer were here, he'd be mocking you. Mercilessly."

Ryan frowned and tried to change the direction. "You're missing the point entirely, Haley."

"Sorry, sorry. So have you gotten over your own indecision yet?" she said, clearing her throat and sounding a little more alert. "Are you ready to go and fuck Brendon senseless?"

"Well," Ryan said in a halting tone. "…I'm just trying not to overanalyze the dream because clearly my head can exaggerate how good it would feel, so I'm wary about giving it too much importance. I mean, what if I only like the idea of it because of the dream?"

"Ryan."

"Because it's not like that's really an accurate comparison. Of course wet dreams are going to be sexy, but that doesn't mean I'm going to like a—"

"Ryan," Haley said, commanding his attention.

Ryan screeched to a stop. "What?"

"Your body and your subconscious are clearly down with you sleeping with Brendon, so why are you questioning yourself again? You love that boy, and having sex with him will probably be the best thing you've done in this relationship so far. For God's sake, you're so fucking gay that you have to chat about this with your friends, and you ask a girl for advice in your gay relationship. Now get off the goddamn phone with me and call Brendon."

Ryan took a deep breath. "Ok. Yeah, ok, I will."

"Also," Haley added, "I don't mean to be a bitch, because I really am interested in how this goes down, but could you wait until it's a decent hour next time?"

"Eight is not that early," insisted Ryan, even though he knew that he usually slept until 10:30 on early days.

"Your biological clock has clearly gone askew from the last time I checked," she said, and they both laughed.

"But really," she said, voice soft with earnestness, "talk to him."

Ryan showed up at Brendon's apartment at eleven at night without any notice, and Brendon hesitantly buzzed him in the apartment building.

He was waiting for Ryan when the boy made it up the elevator and down to his door. Brendon was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame in a white shirt and black jeans. As he heard Ryan barreling down the hall, he looked up and stood at attention.

"What do you want?" he said when Ryan finally stopped in front of him. His tone lacked any accusations. He was purely confused.

"I want all of it. I can't stand the idea of living without all of it. I was scared and I took about way too long to figure it out, but I don't want to agonize over this anymore. I won't be like that last guy," Ryan said, barely breaking to breathe. Then he grabbed Brendon by the shoulders and kissed him hard.

To Ryan's relief, Brendon didn't miss a beat. It took them seconds until Brendon had him pressed against the doorframe with his hands on Ryan's hips. Something pleasant and white hot flooded through his body when Brendon snuck his tongue past Ryan's lips.

"Get in," Brendon said, yanking Ryan inside his apartment and slamming the door closed. He pushed Ryan against the wood and locked the deadbolt with his eyes closed and his tongue in Ryan's mouth.

It was like something wild had finally been unlocked, and Ryan was clawing at Brendon's back and kissing back so hard that Brendon had to pry Ryan's hands away and pin them above his head.

"Calm down," Brendon joked. "There's no hurry."

"There absolutely is a hurry," Ryan huffed indignantly.

Brendon groaned, pleased, but said, "I don't want you rushing into this."

"Brendon," Ryan said. "I'm asking you to have sex with me and you're dragging your ass, here."

Brendon laughed and mouthed at Ryan's neck before replying with, "I just don't want you to do this on impulse or something."

"Dude, it took me hours to get up the courage to come, plus twenty minutes to drive here. I think I would have given up by now if it was just an impulse," Ryan assured him, arching his hips off the door and pressing close to Brendon, making them both gasp.

Brendon let go of Ryan's hands and used them to palm Ryan's ass.

"For your sake, I hope you mean that," Brendon said huskily. "Because, at this point, I wouldn't be able to keep myself from raping you even if you changed your mind."

Ryan whined, stomach feeling jerky but in a pleasant way. "Take your pants off, Brendon. This has already taken long enough."

"It's official, Spencer Smith—I love men," Ryan announced victoriously into the mouthpiece of his phone.

Spencer tarried for a second before saying, "I hope you don't call to tell me this every time you and Brendon have sex."

Ryan gave a dry laugh. "'Cause it would be a lot, I already know this."

Spencer howled with laughter and managed to say amidst it, "Glad to hear things worked out for you."

"Me too." A genuinely content grin eased across Ryan's mouth, smoothing down years of frowning and fake smiles. It made him feel weightless.

"I'm restating my comment about being The Best Straight Friend Ever for being so involved in this."

"So selfless," Ryan joshed.

"I do my part," said Spencer, absolutely serious. "So this is the real deal? No more uncertainty?"

"God, no. It only takes one time with a dick up your ass to know—"

"Above and beyond the call of duty!" Spencer shouted before snapping his cell phone closed. Ryan just kept laughing.

A sleepy groan came from behind Ryan as Brendon stumbled out into the kitchen of his apartment. He was still naked. At least Ryan had had the decency to put underwear on before he left the bedroom. But then again, it was Brendon's apartment.

"Early," Brendon moaned.

"Eleven in the morning," corrected Ryan. Brendon came up and rested his forehead on Ryan's shoulder as his arms wrapped around Ryan's middle.

"Still early. Come back. Surrender to sleep."

Ryan smiled and put down his phone as he followed Brendon back into the bedroom. A few more hours of sleep sounded nice.

The End