Continued from here.
---
It gets easier. Ryan finds new patterns to fall into, new rules that he can live by. They're allowed to be agreeable and – very, very occasionally – friendly to each other when they're alone if they're rude at school. They can skip sex sometimes in favour of sleeping half curled together as long as some kisses still have a bite to them. School itself is hard, but it gets easier with Brendon going over his science requirements – why did he take Biology, why, why – and if he keeps reading Brendon's English essays, then it can be an exchange like everything else is. Mutually beneficial, Ryan tells Spencer and Jon, and then folds his arms and glares in the face of their raised eyebrows.
(Actually, Spencer and Jon aren't being very helpful at all. Spencer has picked up a bad habit of grinning at Brendon in the hallways sometimes when they pass each other, and Ryan's just glad Brendon doesn't do anything but look down and pretend he hasn't seen. One afternoon, though, Ryan gets to Biology a little late and finds Jon turned around on his chair, talking to a very confused looking Brendon. Ryan has patterns, he has rules. Sometimes he regrets telling Spencer and Jon at all. Probably if they had found out on their own, they would have been so pissed that they would have spent most of their time bitching to each other about what an asshole Ryan was for not telling them, rather than coming up with strange plots and theories of their own that they refuse to share.)
Some days, though, it's harder to follow any kind of rule at all.
"I'm on the shortlist," is all Ryan can manage to say when he spills through the door. Brendon's sitting cross-legged on his mattress playing guitar, and he looks up and arches an eyebrow at Ryan. Ryan's cheeks turn slightly pink, and Brendon laughs, soft and not quite mocking. He's still playing guitar, the refrain of Anna Begins in a wistful kind of way.
"What was that, Ross?" he asks, and Ryan takes a breath and forces himself to calm down, closing the door behind him and dropping his bag on the floor. He walks across to Brendon and sprawls out beside him, not quite close enough to touch.
"The college scholarship committee," Ryan tells him. "They contacted Wentz for a reference. I'm on the shortlist."
"I guess all those years of kissing his ass must finally be coming in useful," Brendon says.
"Brendon." Ryan tries not to glare. The excitement fluttering in his stomach is slowly threatening to die in the face of Brendon's disinterest. "You're not listening."
"Yeah, I am. Don't get too excited yet. It's just the shortlist." Brendon punctuates it with a roll of his eyes, but he switches song abruptly, to something that Ryan vaguely recognizes, bright and sweet and welcome.
Later, he will ask Jon and Spencer what it is, humming the melody. "I'm sure I recognize it," he says.
Jon and Spencer stare in obvious disbelief. "You call yourself a musician?" Jon finally asks.
Ryan bristles and opens his mouth, but Spencer gets there first. "Point," he says. "It's The Beatles, Ryan. Haven't you heard it before?"
"Maybe," Ryan says. Jon opens his mouth and sings, little darling, it's been a long, cold, lonely winter, little darling, it feels like years since you've been here and Ryan remembers the name of the song, tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding. "Yeah," he says. "I have heard it."
---
By the time Brendon's shift manager locks up, there's still no trace of Ryan even though he promised to pick Brendon up. Gabriella lingers at the back door for a moment, looking as if she's about to inquire whether Brendon is all right, whether someone's coming for him, and he remembers why he likes her.
