Boys Will Be Boys *Ryden*

It Feels Like We're Pulling Teeth, So Bittersweet

[**Just a note: I previously published this chapter but on some devices it seemed to cut the ending off, so I'm trying again just in case readers thought it was incomplete.**]

Brendon grasped Ryan's hand and pulled him to his feet. Ryan was still angry with him, but curiosity got the better of him and he found himself willingly following Brendon out into the hallway. Zack glanced at them and lifted an eyebrow, then looked away.

A few doors down, they found an empty room. Brendon pulled him inside and closed the door behind them.

Ryan crossed his arms over his chest. "Where's Sarah?" he asked. He didn't mean for it to sound as snarky as it came out.

Brendon seemed agitated. "She's gone."

Ryan gave a sharp laugh. "So, what? You fucked her on the bus and then sent her on her way?"

Brendon frowned at him. "For your information, I didn't fuck her. On the bus or anywhere else."

This temporarily shut Ryan up. He hadn't expected to hear that. He tried to come up with a response, but before he had a chance, Brendon spoke again. "You've got me all fucked up, Ryan."

Ryan stared at him, the words slowly sinking in. When at last he responded, he chose his words carefully and delivered them quietly but firmly. "Look, Brendon. You started this whole thing. You made the first move, You wanted to try this. I'm sorry that you can't deal with whatever it is you're feeling, but that's on you, not me."

The room grew silent, each of them staring the other down. Brendon looked away first, shoving his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I just --" he started, shaking his head and backing away. "I just don't know what this is. I don't know why this started, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, what the fuck I even want."

"You don't say," Ryan stated dryly, trying hard to keep his tone from reflecting the darkness that had settled in his gut.

Brendon looked at him then, his eyes tortured. "I think maybe we should stop." His voice broke on the last word, and he looked down at the floor.

Ryan swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump that had formed in his throat. "Is that what you really want?" he questioned, his voice barely audible.

"I just said, I don't know what the fuck I want." Brendon said, lifting his chin defiantly. This time his eyes were blazing.

Ryan had the sudden sense that he was walking on eggshells and needed to tread very, very carefully. "You know what, Brendon?" he started. "Nobody ever said we needed to put a label on this. If that's the thing that's bothering you."

Brendon had backed up enough that he was able to slump against the wall. "I don't give a shit about labels. Or maybe I do. I don't fucking know! It's like this huge thing that's just hanging over my head right now. Am I gay? Am I bi? What the fuck am I doing?"

"See?" Ryan said. "You're trying to label it."

Brendon closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall.

"You're overthinking," Ryan said, sounding resigned. "I can't help you figure this out. It's something you have to figure out on your own."

"Yeah," Brendon mumbled.

A sudden wave of resentment washed over Ryan. This was exactly why he'd tried to discourage Brendon from experimenting in the first place. Deep down, he'd known it would eventually result in this type of discord and confusion. As much as he wanted to feel sympathy for Brendon, he couldn't manage it. "Well, good luck with that. Take all the time you need." he snapped, and started towards the door.