Is there Somewhere? - Ryden

6

It only took 30 minutes before Brendon was drunk as fuck. The bottle of whatever expensive ass whiskey the two had been drinking was lying empty on the beach next to where they sat. Yes, Brendon was drunk beyond belief, but Ryan was handling the alcohol better. He was steady, unmoving, whereas Brendon had his head between his legs, trying his best not to pass out.

"I told you, you were drinking too much." Ryan said, and Brendon could basically hear the smirk in his words. He was being condescending, but he was right. He ha told Brendon to slow down, but Brendon hadn't listened. He never listened.

"Shut up, Ross." He slurred, rolling his eyes softly before sitting up and looking up at Ryan, a soft pout on his lips.

Ryan rolls his eyes and moves to his feet, holding out a hand which Brendon resentfully takes. "We are gonna go in the water. The cold will sober you up a little. Maybe relax you a bit."

"Whatever you say... Master..." Brendon says with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at Ryan gently. Drunk Brendon found Ryan insanely sexy, and normally he would tone down the flirting around a guy with a girlfriend, but drunk Brendon had not shame, and flirting with Ryan was damn fun. So he kept on doing it.

"You're making me regret picking you Bren." He says with a laugh, pulling Brendon along behind him.

Brendon smiles brightly, half proud that he's successfully made Ryan laugh. The sound of his laugh was the best sound in the world, and he had been laughing a lot tonight. Especially when he was talking to Brendon.

The water was cold on Brendon's toes. He could feel the seaweed under his feet as he started into the water. It was freezing cold, but he followed Ryan closely, deciding against chickening out of swimming in this cold ass water. He didn't want to look like a wimp around Ryan. At waist deep Ryan stopped, pulled off his shirt and threw it to shore, so Brendon followed suit, despite how cold he already was.

"What's your girlfriends name?"

The question seemed to take Ryan by surprise, because he stopped mid step and turned to face Brendon with raised brows, his hand still clinging to Brendon's. "Helena. Why?" He asks, moving to wade in the water.

"I don't know. I just figured it was polite to ask... You dont talk about her a lot. Where is she?"

"Right now she's in LA. Her and my dog Dorothy are coming up tomorrow."

"What kind of dog?"

"Basset Hound. She's just a puppy. We call her Dottie for short and she might be the cutest puppy in the world. She's got these big brown eyes and big floppy ears that drag on the ground when she walks." He chuckles. "I miss her like crazy." Ryan's eyes light up when he talks about Dottie. It's cute really. Brendon can see he really loves her. But it's weird in a way. Weird that Ryan talks more about his dog than he does about his girlfriend.

"And they're staying with you?"

Ryan shakes his head softly, shrugging his shoulders just a bit. "Helena is staying in a hotel, but Dorothy is definitely staying here with all of us. I can't spend another night without her." He chuckles, scratching his arm gently with a soft smile.

"I've always wanted a dog. Jack Russell Terrier." Brendon sighs. "But you can't really have a dog when you live in a motel 8." He chuckles softly and looks down, slightly ashamed of himself.

Ryan nods, humming softly as he thinks. "Well I guess that's why you need to win then. You'll get your own place. Then maybe get your dog." He smiles and yeah, that's a good reason to win.

Suddenly something hits Brendon in the back, and he's falling forward faster than his drunk self can possibly handle. And then hands catch his arms, and his hands fall against Ryan's chest. A voice behind him apologizes for bumping into him, but he doesn't pay attention. His eyes are stuck on Ryan's, mere inches away from his. His lips are right there. He should kiss him. He could kiss him. And suddenly he's leaning in, and he watches Ryan lean in too, but he stops suddenly. Ryan pulls back and stands Brendon back up, his breath hitching slightly from nerves. He's tipsy too, and he did not mean to do that. He did not mean to lean into Brendon.

"Come on, let's get you to bed. You're way too drunk." He chuckles nervously, grabbing Brendon's arm and pulling him back into the house.

And just like that, the magic is over, and Brendon is left wondering what the fuck just happened.