Please

Part 9

You giggle as you watch Ryan and Balz prance around, locked arm and arm as they dance in a circle, bellowing some kind of song you'd never heard, both if them off tune and forgetting half the lyrics.

Chris and Ricky sit on either side of you, talking over you, the only ones who weren't drunk out of the entire bunch; you know why Ricky doesn't drink, but Chris just says he's straight edge and above it.

Well, props to him.

You're not above it.

Well, at least not now after you'd already had a couple drinks and we're pleasantly buzzed.

You grin as Balz staggers away from Ryan, laughing as he comes to a stop.

"We all fall down!" Ryan gasps, snickering as he plops back into the lawn chair. The guys had a tent set up, and lawn chairs and fold out chairs were everywhere, along with those tiny colored lights hanging from everything possible. There were several coolers around, full of ice and a mix of drinks, and a table of food ordered from a nearby restaurant that you'd really liked.

They'd gone all out.

You'd have to do something nice for them.

All of them.

Even the techs.

You glance over as you see Ricky stretch, his hand landing on your knee to give it a comforting squeeze. You smile back at him, a little crookedly, before impulsively leaning over and kissing his cheek, leaving a light mark of lipstick on his skin.

"Thank you for all this," you murmur, and Ricky blushes, nodding.

"You deserve it," he informs you, forcing a smile, and then trying to hide his yawn behind his hand.

It had been a long show, and he was admittedly pretty tired.

He could sleep in the chair if it wouldn't be weird.

"You must be tired," you sigh, and he shakes his head quickly, letting his arm rest around your shoulders when you shiver.

"Not much. You enjoying yourself?"

"Completely," you chuckle. "Especially Balz and Ryan prancing around."

"It's what they're best at," Ricky grins slightly, playing with the ends of your long hair. "It'll start to annoy you soon enough."

Your lips twitch.

"I think I'm gonna head to the hotel," Chris says after a moment, stretching his long arms above his head. "I'm beat. Happy birthday, (Y/N)."

"Thanks, Chris," you nod, feeling Ricky shift as well.

You know he's tired.

And you don't want to keep him up just because it's your birthday.

"You should go too," you say, squeezing his hand. "Get some rest."

"But what about -?"

"I'll ride with one of the other guys when they head over, I still have to pack a bag; you kept me too busy today to grab anything."

Ricky chuckles.

"Fine. Call Me When You Get To The hotel, though, okay?"

"Promise."

Good.

Ricky yawns again as he stretches to his feet.

He couldn't wait for a real bed.

He was prematurely dreaming about it already.

Everyone had decided forking over the cost for a nice hotel was worth it, especially since it was your birthday, and everyone was already tired of sleeping in the bunks. They'd been assured they could show up and get rooms without reservations, and Ricky hopes that's true.