Infinite, sometimes

13

A loud buzz flooded Ryan's empty mind and slowly started to expose him to a gradually growing dose of reality. His eyes opened, vision blurry, and he was face to face with the wall as he laid on his side. Below his line of vision, a hand and arm stuck out from under his neck, and Ryan really wanted to know what was happening. He had enough control over his body to reach over and turn off his alarm but he was physically unable to move, prevented from lifting his arm or even turning himself over due to whatever was in contact with his body. He took a few more breaths with a feeling of urgency, and he wasn't confused for much longer as the events of the previous night flew up from his no longer dormant mind and hit him in the face. He felt slight movement behind him, against his body.
"Big button... on top, hit it." Ryan knew what he wanted to say, even if it came out jumbled and mixed with grogginess. He felt Brendon turn behind him, and there was a loss of pressure across his side and stomach in the moment before the alarm stopped screaming. As the pressure returned, Ryan opened his eyes wider and managed to see exactly what kept him from moving.
Ryan had no pillow under his head. Instead, his head was resting on Brendon's arm and there was something pressing against the back of his head that he could only imagine as Brendon's face. Preventing him from turning around was Brendon himself, his body pressed tightly against Ryan's from head to toe. But it's a small bed, Ryan thought, trying to justify the present situation. Ryan's eyes traveled down to his stomach to see Brendon's other arm wrapped tightly around him for the second time, after taking a small break to turn off the alarm clock. Ryan couldn't think of any excuses as to why the arm returned to his body after leaving, and his heart instantly took over. He felt a small tickle in his stomach that seemed to quickly travel to his chest, which would have made it ache had it not been for the warmth and security that he wanted to pretend he didn't feel. Trying to disguise his intentions with a small squirm and stretch, he lightly wrapped his fingers around two of Brendon's fingers and held both of their hands against his stomach. Ryan was pretty sure that there was nowhere else he would have rather been at that moment, and no matter what he tried to think of, he couldn't get this thought out of his head.
It took Brendon a few seconds to realize not only how he had woken up, but that he had returned to the same position after already moving once. He stopped breathing for a moment, completely motionless as he waited for Ryan to say something, but the boy was silent. He felt sick with embarrassment and the shame kept him from moving. Brendon hoped that remaining still would somehow erase the situation, although he knew that he didn't have that sort of luck. Instead of making himself look even worse he decided to lay still and wait for Ryan to push him off the bed or push his arms away.
"Brendon?"
"Mmm?"
"What are you doing?"
"I have no idea."
"It's okay."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
"Do you want me to move now?"
Ryan had to exert a bit of control over his mind-mouth connection this time around. His actual wishes were far too awkward to properly, honestly answer his friend's question. "We... just... need to get ready for school." He immediately regretted the exclusion of words that he wanted to say and he tightened his grip on Brendon's fingers to try to convey what he had not said.
Brendon slowly pulled himself away and stood up. Ryan laid completely still and he could hear him quickly pulling on his jeans and tying his shoes, followed by silence. Ryan knew it was his turn. He wanted desperately to tell Brendon that he knew what he was feeling, that he felt exactly how Brendon was feeling at that moment, but it was this exact feeling that kept him from being able to look away from the floor as he stood up. He hurried to his closet and started sifting through shirts, settling on an old, worn polo shirt, mainly white with stripes of the most horrid pink and turquoise. Ugly enough to be one of his favorite shirts, and thin enough to throw his jacket over it and not feel like he was dressing in preparation for a snowstorm. He pretended to not feel eyes burning into his back as he quickly changed from his pajamas to his jeans and shirt. He turned around with a slight smile on his face and Brendon's hand went directly to the doorknob, fumbling with the lock, unable to get it to turn. Before his friend had a chance to worry, Ryan gently pushed his hand away and mastered the lock himself.
"Sticks sometimes. You just have to mess with it."
Brendon smiled and nodded, eyeing up the bathroom and heading down the hall. Ryan watched him walk away and he turned around just as he began to feel strange, but he turned his head back when he heard his name being whispered from the hallway. "Ry... Ryan, can I use the mouthwash in here?"
"Sure."
"Forgot my toothbrush."
"Yeah, go ahead."
Ryan heard the door click shut and he sat down on the edge of his bed, still slightly stunned. He used his feet to drag his Vans over to himself, and he slipped his feet inside without ever touching the shoes with his hands. They felt like slippers even when he wore them without socks. He took the brush from his nightstand and ran it through his hair. It was starting to not feel soft and feathery anymore and he knew it was about time for a shower, but that would have to wait until evening.  He started rubbing his eyes and focusing on just how good it felt to rub a little too much, and his vision was blurry when he opened his eyes again and laid back on the bed. His head was against the wall and his legs were bent at the knee to hang over the side of the bed and Ryan stared at the ceiling and listened for familiar sounds. There was water running in the bathroom and he could hear pipes in the walls making noise. Shortly after the water in the sink stopped, Ryan heard the bathroom door open and he quickly settled his folded hands on top of his stomach.
Brendon walked back into the room and quietly pushed the door shut. "I'm ready."
"Okay."
"I smell coffee."
Ryan nodded, still looking at the ceiling. "My dad."
"Oh." Brendon shuffled over to the bed and sat down, trying to take up as little space as possible. "I'm really sorry about that."
"My dad's coffee?"
"No, no... waking up. I'm sorry about what happened."
"Don't be sorry that we woke up. Much rather be awake than any of the alternatives."
Brendon leaned forward and rubbed his face in his hands. "Ry, don't make this harder for me than it already is. You fucking know what I mean, knock it off."
"Hey, stop that..." Ryan lifted his hand to Brendon's arm and pulled him down, tilting his own head a little so his friend's head could rest on his shoulder. "Don't be sorry that we woke up together, okay?"
"I really don't even remember moving. I don't know why it happened, and I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Ryan felt like he was getting a little ahead of himself, but he didn't mind. He grabbed Brendon's right wrist and forced the boy to unfold his arms, and he brought Brendon's arm across his body to rest on his stomach. He took a deep breath to exaggerate the movement that his friend's arm had to make and he held on to his fingers, just as he had shortly after he woke up. The breath was time consuming and it seemed to slow everything down a little bit. "Don't you think I would have said something if you had anything to be sorry about?"
Brendon shrugged. "Did I help you sleep okay?"
"Bren, I don't remember any dreams from last night."
"You weren't scared?"
"No, I don't think I have ever slept that well... I mean, I just fell asleep and nothing happened. I didn't have to move at all. I can't believe I got rid of it last night."
Brendon was quiet for a few seconds and Ryan could feel his arm gradually tightening around his body, quickly turning into the most wonderful hug he had ever felt. "I guess I'm not sorry, then."
"But are you hungry?"
Brendon shrugged. "I'm not sure."
"Well, we're gonna eat." Ryan started moving his thumb back and forth over the back of Brendon's hand.
"I don't really feel like it."
"You need to have something."
"I think I need to just stay here for a while."
Ryan closed his eyes and a small smile leaked through despite his efforts to conceal it. "I wish we could. We have to get to school, though."
Brendon nodded against Ryan's shoulder and squeezed him one last time before standing up and moving over to his bag. He leaned down and unzipped it, producing a case with his glasses and he slipped them on his face. "Hey, I brought some clothes, actually... but do you care if I just keep wearing this shirt?"
"That old thing?" Ryan laughed. "Of course not, go ahead. I don't think it's clean, though, come to think of it."
"I thought it smelled like you."
"It probably does." Ryan grabbed his own bag and slung it over his shoulder. "I think I slept in it a few times before I lost it in the bottom of the closet."
"Well, it smells good."
"Really?"
"You smell like Spencer, kinda. But better. Not that he needs a shower or anything, you just smell good."
Ryan laughed, grinning at Brendon. "You're too funny." He placed a hand on Brendon's back, just below his neck, and led him out the door.
In the kitchen, two plates of toast and two cups of coffee were laid out nicely on the counter. Ryan's dad stood next to the sink, sipping his own coffee and looking up from the newspaper that had been holding his attention. "Morning, guys."
"Hey." Ryan headed straight toward his father and hugged him.
"Well hello there. What's this about?"
"Just love ya. This is Brendon." Ryan didn't look at his friend as he tapped the boy's shoulder and walked over to give some attention to his cup of coffee.
"Morning, Brendon. Got some breakfast sittin' there for ya." He extended his hand to the confused boy and Brendon took it, giving it the firmest squeeze that he could manage.
Not very good around new people, Brendon huddled over his plate on the other side of Ryan and spoke after nearly inhaling his food. "We should hurry before it gets too late."
"Yeah." Ryan shoved the last of his toast into his mouth and swallowed quickly. "Dad, I'll see you tomorrow morning probably."
"Nice to meet you, Brendon. You going to be staying here more often?"
Brendon shrugged and Ryan's mouth started running before Brendon had a chance to speak. "I hope so. I mean, I don't know, maybe, he was just here last night... just to be here, I don't know, we need to get to school."
Ryan's dad grinned and rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Kiddo. Fishing this Sunday?"
"Yeah, sounds good. Love you."
"Love you too, Son."
Ryan almost jogged to the front door and left it open for Brendon. He shoved his hands into his pockets and clenched his phone for security.
"Ry, wait up. You okay?"
"Yeah."
"Your dad's pretty nice."
"Told ya."
"Hey, I never said I didn't believe you."
"I know it didn't seem like it last night, but he's tied with you guys for best friend status, really. He just makes mistakes."
"I almost wish I could get in more fights with my mom."
"Why would you want that?"
"I could stay at your place."
"I guess when you put it that way, I'm all for it."
"Hey Ryan?"
"Yeah?"
"You know," Brendon stuck his hands in his pockets and looked up from watching his feet hit the sidewalk. "You're really wearing off on me."
"How's that?"
"It's just nice being able to be happy."
Ryan caught his friend's gaze and smiled at him. He lifted his hand to the boy's cheek and rubbed it gently. "Looks like I'll just wear off on you as much as I can, then."
Brendon's face was once again taken over by his goofy grin as he laughed quietly and he looked back down to the sidewalk.
"Seriously, I'm not gonna leave you alone now until we're pretty much the same person."
"So what are we all doing for the dance this weekend?"
"Guess I haven't given it much thought. I think we should have Spence and El come to my place on Friday and we can just talk about whatever."
"That could work. You know what you wanna wear?"
"I think I have an idea. I have a lot of strange crap that I can pass off as nice looking."
"I'm gonna have to buy something or whatever. No way in hell I'm going out in public in the shit that I have."
"Uh, Bren... I'm what some might call a clothing whore, even though I wear the same few things all the time. The pants may be a little long on ya but I know exactly what I have that you could wear. Do you have black shoes?"
"Yeah, what kind?"
"Any."
"I have some dress shoes but I have some black Converse like yours. We should totally wear those."
"Yeah, you're right, we should. I know what we can wear, I think. You can come over Friday, right?"
"Yeah, shouldn't be a problem. They'll let me do whatever on the weekends."
"That way you can come see what fits you."
"What did you have in mind?"
"You'll see." Ryan nudged Brendon with his elbow. "We'll kind of match in some weird way. Trust me, it'll work."
Both boys turned their attention to an old blue Honda that pulled up alongside them. "B, where the hell were you last night?" Seth poked his head into the passenger seat area of his car.
"Dude, you fucking heard me and Mom going at it before you left. After you were gone she got even more pissed off and said she didn't want to see me."
"Get in here, I'll take you guys the rest of the way."
Ryan was immediately weary of Seth's apparent display of kindness, but he had no choice but to follow Brendon into the back seat and keep his mouth shut due to residual bitterness from the events of a couple days before. Ryan pulled the door shut and found himself squashed between the door itself and Brendon, who was sitting in the middle as opposed to the seat on the opposite side of the car.
"Mom was being a bitch and she said she wanted me out of her face, so I left."
Seth locked the doors and pulled away. "So do you want to tell me how she found my shit?"
"What the hell?"
"She found the goddamn stash, fuckface."
Brendon's hand laid flat on the surface of the seat and Ryan felt a slight change in surface tension as Brendon dug his fingers into the cloth. "I didn't fucking tell her."
"Like hell you didn't. Don't give me that shit. I told her about all your goddamn lies and even after the shit you pulled yesterday she still didn't fucking believe me."
Ryan forced himself to remain silent. Shielded by their legs, Ryan rested his hand on the seat next to Brendon's and he hesitated for a moment before lifting his hand slightly and hooking their little fingers together like a first grader's pinky promise. Brendon instantly accepted and moved his hand into a clenched position, which caused Ryan's hand to fold as well. Ryan moved his leg to conceal their secret even more as he tightened his grip and Seth continued to rant while pulling into the school parking lot.
"I'm really sick of your shit, Brendon. You insist on thinking you're better than me, and Mom and Dad see it and all of a sudden they just fucking hate me even more. Why can't you just fuck up like the little shithead that you are so they will see just how—"
"I already fucked up, asshole. Why do you think she kicked me the fuck out last night?"
"She didn't kick you out, it was just you being a little bitch and thinking that the entire goddamn world hates you. Seriously, you fuck up, and you get pissed off when Mom or Dad doesn't like it. What the fuck else do you expect? Oh no, perfect little Brendon can't make mistakes, sure. No, you fuck up, and you can't handle what comes of it because you're a goddamn baby. And now I'm fucked as well, thanks to all your bullshit and not being able to handle a parent getting pissed off at you for, oh, I don't know, FUCKING UP. She just wanted you out of her face, she didn't want you to start crying and run away like a pissed off eight year old girl, you fucking retard." Seth unlocked the doors and Brendon dug his fingers into Ryan's hand before letting go and almost pushing Ryan out the door.
Ryan made sure to keep his voice quiet. "None of that's true, Bren, just ignore him."
"Shut the fuck up, Ryan."
Ryan's mouth dropped open and he stared at his friend in complete astonishment, unable to think of anything to say before Seth approached and pushed him out of the way, grabbing Brendon's arm.
"I can't believe you fucking told her." He gripped harder and twisted his wrist, causing Brendon to fall forward and follow his movements by twisting his body to follow the direction his arm was going, and the loud scream that escaped his clenched teeth startled Seth enough to make him let go.
"Don't fucking touch me!" Brendon was close to tears, but he resisted all affection when Ryan tried to pull him closer.
"What the hell, Brendon, I didn't fucking hurt you. My God, I didn't even hit you, what the hell is your problem?" Seth pulled Brendon's arm away from his chest, this time by the wrist, and he lifted the sleeve to see what damage he could have possibly done.
Brendon was looking away, but Ryan watched Seth's every move and facial expression as he got what was his first glimpse of what really was wrong with his brother. For a second, it seemed like Seth had never seen a burn before, but it quickly changed to a look of concern as to why his brother's arm was covered in them.
"Brendon, what is this?" Seth was actually capable of speaking calmly.
"Just fucking tell Mom, okay? She won't fucking care, Dad will laugh at me for it, and you can fucking join him. Can I just go to my goddamn class now?"
Ryan didn't care about what sort of resistance he would receive by putting his arm around Brendon's shoulders, but to his surprise, Brendon simply leaned against him, almost cowering slightly as he tried as hard as he could to hold back all emotion.
"Dude, I'm not... I... why would you do this?"
"I have to."
"Why would you have to do this?  Are these from cigarettes? Fuck, I don't want you smoking..."
"Goddammit I don't smoke, I just fucking do this. Now say whatever the hell you want to me so I can go to class."
"Why do you do it?"
"Because of how it feels, now I need to get in there before I make all of us late."
"Brendon we have ten minutes yet." Seth moved forward and placed his hand on Brendon's upper arm, but Brendon ducked away.
"I'm walking home today. Bye." Brendon pulled the corner of Ryan's jacket as he walked away, forcing him to follow.
Ryan quickly realized that Brendon would be getting his way. "Brendon—"
"I'm not talking right now."
"Okay, fine, but I am. Now look, I think I wanted to kill him just as much as you did, but if he was willing to talk to you like you're human, I don't see why—"
"I do not want to talk to that dick, Ryan. If I don't even want to talk to you right now, I'm not going to talk to him."
"Okay, no. Just... come here." Ryan wrapped his fingers around Brendon's wrist and pulled him into the building and into the nearest bathroom and he cornered his friend against the wall. "Nothing will get better if you keep running from it, do you hear me?"
Defenseless, Brendon looked at the floor on the other end of the room with an extremely annoyed look on his face.
"Listen to me." Ryan latched his hand onto Brendon's and he squeezed it undeniably hard to get his point across, and the squeeze was returned by Brendon, who was still not making eye contact. "You're doing just what he said you do, Bren. And I know he said shit he shouldn't have, but don't help him do it. Look Hun, you need to calm down. I know you didn't want him to know about what you do but I think it scared him... I don't know because I don't have one, but I think he was actually trying to act like a brother back there."
"He was right about every goddamn thing he said."
"You know that's not true." Ryan released his grip on the hand and he rubbed the sleeve of his jacket over Brendon's eyes. "Don't do this. Let's have a good day today, alright?"
Brendon moved away and bent down to look underneath the stall doors. He stood up after seeing no feet, sure that they were alone. "I just want to go back to bed."
"What do you mean?"
Brendon put his arms around Ryan's neck and laid his face on his shoulder, and Ryan could hear him mumble. "I still need you."
"And I'm still here." Ryan put his hand on Brendon's back and held him as close as he could. "You're gonna be fine, Bren. Let's just go to class." Ryan felt Brendon nod against his shoulder and he pressed his cheek against the side of Brendon's head. He wanted nothing more than for it to be Saturday; he wanted to still be at home. "You asked me something this morning, do you remember?"
"I don't think so."
"You asked me if I wanted you to move."
"Oh, yeah."
"I didn't really answer you. I just said we needed to get ready."
"I remember." Brendon really couldn't forget, but he could pretend if he wanted to.
"Well, the answer's no, I didn't want you to move."
"I didn't want to."
"We need to hang out like that more often."
Brendon moved himself away from Ryan and smiled, still slightly jittery from anger. "Yeah. Like I said, I'm gonna piss my mom off more so I basically get permission to leave."
"No, none of that. I wanna meet her, though. Maybe once she sees your friends she'll loosen up a bit."
"Not likely." Brendon opened the door to a startled student who was on his way inside. Unsuspecting, the kid nodded and continued on his way. "I think I can arrange for you to come over tomorrow, though."
"Really?"
"Yeah. If anyone asks, we have an essay due in history on Friday and we are helping each other work on it."
"Whatever you say."
"She'll buy it, don't worry. We can sit in my room until at least eight or so, maybe longer if we open some books and scribble on some paper so we look busy when she comes in."
"Hey Bren?"
"Hmm?"
Ryan thought carefully about what he was preparing to say. Too many consequences, too many interpretations. Ryan had a small problem of thinking too much before he spoke, and even though this habit always resulted in him never being able to say what he truly wanted, he figured it was much better than having no self control. That, he thought, would lead to far too much trouble.
Ryan had drifted too far into thought. "Ryan? You need something?"
"Oh, sorry." He glanced over at Brendon and stared at the faded Blink-182 logo on the shirt. "Just uh..." Quick, say something. "Be careful with that shirt. Me and Spence had a good time at that show and I know it's all faded and looks bad, but I love it."
"Don't worry about it. You'll get it back in one piece. With no holes." Ryan looked down to the sleeves. "Well, no more holes, anyway."
"Well you can have it... I mean, I was thinking, if you like it or whatever, I just wanna make sure you'll take care of it."
"I'm not gonna steal your shirt, Ry. How about you give me another one that you don't like as much?"
"You sure you'd like any nasty shirt of mine as much as you like that one?"
"Oh... yeah, sorry, I didn't think of that."
Ryan couldn't blame the present awkwardness entirely on Brendon. He figured Brendon probably had a better handle on what he wanted to say, while Ryan himself was stuck in a mess of words, trying to appear even the least bit sane. It was a good thing that each of them shared a painful lack of conversational ability at the strangest times while in each other's presence, because Ryan figured he would have probably died by this point. The uncomfortable moments were made comfortable by the fact that they were shared with someone who was probably feeling the same way.
Ryan felt confident in having prevented his friend from having a minor meltdown. Not that he knew exactly what to do, but he did exactly what he had been doing for the past couple days. He did what felt right, and once again, what felt right was the perfect thing to do.