Tripping Down 12 Steps Into Malibu

The Nice One

Ryan sat at the picnic table. Under the shade of the large tree. He usually preferred staying indoors. But he needed to free his thoughts. The confinement of four walls was making him go a little insane.

"Ryan!" He wasn't surprised that Brendon spotted him as soon as he sat down.

"Hey."

The man sat uncomfortably close to him. His side leaning against his. "What are you doing out here?"

"Just sitting."

"What made you come out?"

"I just-"

"Usually you never like coming outside."

"I know. But I needed to-"

"I'm glad you're here though." He squeezed his arm familiarly.

Ryan forced a smile. "Thanks."

"Why are you sitting all the way over here though?"

"Oh I just-"

"You can sit over there." He pointed to where a group of men were sitting on the grass. Ryan recognized one as Pete.

"No thanks. I prefer-"

"We were going to play cards."

"No-"

"You don't know how to play? That's okay."

"Okay."

"I'm glad you're out here." He reached over and brushed Ryan's hair from his forehead. His fingers lingering. "You need a little sunlight."

Brendon continued talking and randomly touching him. Ryan stopped attempting to get any words in edgewise. He didn't quite understand the sudden clinginess. All the soft words, gentle looks and small touches were making him feel overwhelmed. The attention stirring up warm, unfamiliar feelings inside of him. He didn't like it.

It was almost scary knowing someone could brighten his mood with just their presence. Scary because it got Ryan thinking of what his prolonged absence could do. No. He refused to grow any type of dependence on his roommate. Him being around too much wasn't good for either of them.

"Brendon." He stopped him in the middle of whatever he was saying.

"Yes?"

"I wanted a little alone time out here."

"Why?" He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I don't really want to talk about it." The disappointed look on the other man's face compelled him to add, "right now."

"Okay." He touched his shoulder for only a second. "I'll see you inside."

Ryan watched him childishly skip back to the spot his friends were sitting at. Not looking away until he plopped himself into the ground beside the tattooed one. The table moved as someone took a seat at it. Ryan was annoyed before looking at whoever it was.

It was the Patrick guy. Pete's little sidekick.

"I want to be alone." He didn't need to be gentle with him like he did Brendon. He didn't even know him.

"Cute." He didn't move to get up. "And I want a hit. Too bad we don't always get what we want, huh?"

Ryan's eyes widened at the honestly. "I thought you were the nice one."

"Well." He lifted one shoulder.

Immediate understanding. "You're feigning?"

"Aren't we all?" Be shot back.

Ryan couldn't relate to that. He'd been surprisingly not thinking of drugs at all recently. Still he nodded. "Touché."

"We all crave something." He continued on, though Ryan didn't ask. "For example, I'm craving a line of coke." Ryan let his gaze waver back to the group of men. Not interested in Patrick's confessions. He wasn't a priest. "And you're craving little Brendon over there."

He looked away quickly. "What?"

"He's different."

"Is he?" He tried to appear as nonchalant as his body would let him.

"Around you he is."

"I hadn't noticed."

"Why though?"

"Why are you asking me? I don't know."

"I can tell when someone is lying to me."

"Look, I don't even know you."

"All the more reason to be honest. Why lie to a stranger? What would the truth hurt?"

Fuck it. He needed to get this out anyway. And this guy was Brendon's friend. They probably talked about this stuff.

"It was the middle of the night and we were both exhausted." He started with that as an excuse. "So we ended up-"

"You had sex!?" Patrick's question raised the attention of a couple of passing people.

Ryan buried his flushed face in his hands.

"No. Well- no."

"What did that well mean?"

"Would you keep your voice down?"

"What did you do?" He whispered.

"We just made out." His blush deepened at the memory. "And he jerked me off."

"You didn't return the favor?"

"No."

"Asshole."

"I tried but he stopped me! He said something about knowing I was tired and just being happy to make me happy."

"He's fucking whipped." Patrick laughed to himself.

"What was that?"

"You feel weird now?"

"I-I just don't know where we stand."

"I'm sure he doesn't know either. He probably feels weird too. Did you ever think of that?"

"No." He should have.

"You two just need to talk it out."

"You're right. Thanks. For listening."

"Well." He stood up. Stretching slightly. "I am then I nice one."

Ryan smiled and Patrick winked. Nodding in his direction before starting to walk off.

"Hey." Ryan stopped him.

"Yeah?" His head turned to look over his shoulder.

"D-Don't tell anyone."

"Yeah because I was about to fucking publish an article in the New York Times about it." His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

"You just said you were nice."

He shrugged.