THE ADVENTURES OF FRANK AND RYAN

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Francis has a problem.

A problem in the form of a six foot something guy from college, with brilliant blue eyes and blonde hair—looks like a typical American jock, but is anything but.

Francis learns this the hard way.

His name is Ryan, Francis learns. Ryan, Francis mouths, when he overhears Ryan introducing himself to other people that aren't Francis. He tests the name on his tongue, and finds it a little common. An American jock name for an American jock.

Not that bad, really. He looks straight as hell, though. Not Francis's type, not at all.

It doesn't stop him from being aware of Ryan. Francis is aware of Ryan the way some people would be aware of a dripping pipe. It doesn't make a lot of sound, but when no one's there, when there's nothing but you and dark hours of the night, that constant drip-drip is going to get to you, whether you like it or not.

Francis certainly doesn't like it. He doesn't like the fact that whenever he walks past a group of people, it's Ryan's voice that sounds the clearest to him. He doesn't like the fact that whenever he enters a lecture hall, he automatically looks for Ryan's feathery yellow head before he chooses a seat. He doesn't like being aware of Ryan's presence before he's aware of literally anything else.

Most of all, he doesn't like Ryan. Francis thinks Ryan's too good, like sunshine and beach trips made human. Ryan's got to have some dark secret, some weird-ass kink, something of that sort. The only dirt that Francis could dig up on Ryan was that he worked in a café, and had a tendency to hit on customers. He didn't actively seek this information out. Francis would never forgive himself if he ever went digging for anything pertaining to Ryan. No, he gleaned this information from brief snatches of conversations he'd heard on campus. His ears, his eyes, his entire mind is so subconsciously attuned to Ryan's presence that anything that so much as had Ryan's name sticks to Francis's mind like gum.

Francis has no idea how to deal with this. Crushes he can understand. Crushes he can deal with. This doesn't feel like a crush. Or is this actually what a crush is like, and whatever Francis thinks qualifies as a crush isn't a crush, but something else, something inferior to what he feels for Francis?

Maybe this is a crush. He feels like he's getting crushed. God, he hates it.

He has to get rid of this. 

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@astronomizes hjf i wasnt kidding when i said i was gonna write an entire book dedicated to fryan what do you think i am???? hdhfjkkf