Roadtrip Oneshots

Rylyn, Swapping Clothes.

Rye

Brooklyn made a habit of "borrowing" my clothes, especially my jumpers.
I'd realise that something was missing, and days later Brook would emerge from his room wearing it. He knew what he was doing, as the second I made eye contact with him he would grin cheekily. I'd chase after him and tackle him, tickling him until he gave in, the rest of the boys managing to video it, and laughing in the background.
But I never asked for the clothes back.

Eventually it became a thing.

I would steal a shirt, or a pair of boxers whenever he left the flat, and then make a show of showcasing them to the boys whenever Brook was around. He'd give me a look, and I'd raise my eyebrows quickly.

He then began to laze around the flat in my jogging bottoms, and sleep in my shirts and boxers, and wear my jumpers wherever we went, and then I began to do the same. Except I was more subtle about it. Brook wanted me know that he was wearing my clothes. I wanted to see how long it would take for him to notice. I'd managed to go a whole day before, until he'd launched himself at my back and wrapped his legs around my waist. I'd seriously debated dropping him, but I wasn't that cruel. He was my boyfriend after all.

But there were times where we wouldn't swap clothes, yet we always checked.
I had to admit, Brook looked good in my boxers, and a long t-shirt.
Whenever he fell asleep I'd tweet a picture of him saying : So that's where my boxers went. And my t-shirt for that matter.

Brook did the same though.
I lost that pair of shorts two weeks ago, but I realise now what happened.

The Roadies drank all this in, demanding more of Rylyn. We were surprised at the level of support  when we decided to come out.
Selfies were posted on Instagram, ranging from cuddling in bed to walking down the street with our hands intertwined.

There was hate though. We tried to ignore it, which was also out motto for the band in a strange way, however there were so many nights that we lay awake, comforting the other if they were struggling. Tears were shed, but we knew how to cheer eachother up. And that was really all that mattered.

The clothing swap continued, until we decided that we didn't own our clothes. They were deemed the Rylyn clothes, because by now both of us had worn everything in the collection, even the hats, socks and the few items of jewelry that we owned. It was no longer out of place for Brook to turn up wearing one of my ti-dye t-shirts, just as it wasn't out of place for me to wear a pair of Brooks jeans.

We worked well together. We were good for eachother. There were the hard moments that comes with every relationship, but each time we came out closer and stronger.

But yeah, he's got into the habit of nicking my headbands now.
I'll just have to wear his.

Brooks my life. He brings the sun wherever he goes.
And I love him with all my heart.

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