"Boys, dinner," Brendon's mom called from downstairs. Brendon climbed off the bed and headed to the door like he normally would. He stopped and looked back to see Ryan not moving.
"Come on," Brendon insisted. Ryan hesitantly got to his feet.
"I'm probably gonna go home actually." Ryan noticed the quick flash of disappointment on Brendon's face before it went neutral.
"You can eat with us before you leave."
"I don't want to intrude." Brendon moved to Ryan and grabbed his hand, pulling him to the door.
"You're eating with us."
"Brendon, it's alright." Ryan didn't resist and even locked their fingers together.
"Even if I would let you leave, my mom wouldn't until you ate something, so you don't have a choice." Ryan smiled at Brendon as they moved to the staircase. He pulled Brendon to a stop before they made it down to the first floor. "What?"
"I dare you to say falafel after everything you say at dinner." Brendon's eyes grew in shock as Ryan pulled them the rest of the way to the dining room. The table was set nicely, even an extra placemat set for Ryan. A bowl of spaghetti and plate of garlic bread were placed in the center of the large table. Ryan took note at the many empty chairs thinking how they were all once occupied with Brendon's siblings.
"You must be Ryan," a man Ryan assumed to be Brendon's dad said. Ryan released Brendon's hand and nodded.
"Yes sir." The man smiled and held his hand out for Ryan.
"I'm Boyd, Brendon's dad." Ryan stepped forward to shake the man's hand then moved back to Brendon's side.
"Nice to meet you sir." Boyd shook his head and took a seat at the head of the table. Brendon's mom sat to his right.
"Please, just call me Boyd." Ryan nodded and sat beside Brendon. The boy was focused on serving himself, avoiding eye contact and any reason to speak.
"So what have you two been up to today?" Ryan smirked at Brendon, waiting for him to respond. Brendon lowered his head and quickly took a bite of his spaghetti.
"We've just been playing cards," Ryan decided to answer.
"You've been keeping the door open, right Brendon." Ryan kept his eyes on the boy next to him, waiting for him to talk. He only nodded. "Are you okay?" Brendon nodded again. "You're not talking. You always talk at dinner. What's wrong?" Brendon looked over at Ryan again and let out a soft sigh.
"I'm okay mom." Ryan rose an eyebrow causing Brendon to frown. "Falafel," he mumbled lowly so it was too quiet to hear properly.
"What was that? You have to speak up, sweetie." Brendon looked down at his place while Ryan snickered.
"I'm okay falafel," he spoke more clearly. His parents shared confused expressions.
"So Ryan, you're a part of the soccer team right?" Boyd decided to continue a conversation.
"Yeah. We had a game a couple days ago."
"That's right. Brendon stayed out later to watch you. I assume that was your jacket he was wearing then?" Ryan nodded with a bright smile. He thought Brendon looked adorable in his jacket.
"I let him borrow it. He hasn't given it back though." The three looked at Brendon, silently asking where the jacket was.
"It's in my closet... falafel."
"You should wear it again," Ryan suggested.
"I don't think so falafel." Brendon felt stupid while his parents looked confused.
"Why not? You looked adorable," his mother chimed, a hint of confused humor in her voice.
"I was going to give it back falafel."
"Brendon, what are y–"
"I'd like to see you wear it again," Ryan interrupted Boyd's question. Brendon's parents only grew more confused when they were able to get an answer.
"I'll think about it falafel." As dinner continued on, the three continued to keep Brendon talking. Though they didn't know the reason, his parents enjoyed watching Brendon get upset after repeating the word again and again.
Ryan would chuckle under his breath every time Brendon spoke, begrudgingly finishing with 'falafel'. After an agonizingly long dinner, Brendon made his back to his room with Ryan trailing him.
"That was a lame dare," Brendon pouted and dropped onto the mattress. Ryan laughed more freely and moved beside the other. The two were laying on their backs, Brendon staring at the ceiling and Ryan's head turned to watch the boy.
"Maybe, but it was entertaining enough for me."
"You're lame," Brendon mumbled and crossed his arm. Ryan turned his body to the side and threw his arm over Brendon's waist, pulling him close.
"You don't mean that," he said and pressed against his shoulder.
"Yes I do." Brendon continued to keep his eyes trained to the ceiling, acting unbothered by Ryan placing a soft kiss on his shoulder. He could feel Ryan smiling into his shoulder, breaking his frown. A smile broke over Brendon's face, betraying his want to stay upset.
"I should probably go." Ryan pulled away and climbed off the bed. "Text you later?" Brendon sat up, now pouting for Ryan's want to leave.
"Why are you leaving?"
"It's getting late and my dad will probably want me home soon."
"Oh," Brendon mouthed. He looked down at his lap. "You wanna do something tomorrow?"
"You're not upset with me anymore?" Ryan teased. Brendon shook his head. Ryan couldn't help to laugh in amusement. Brendon looked like a puppy who knew acted poorly and still wanted a reward. "We can hang out at the mall tomorrow."
Brendon mumbled an 'okay' with a shy smile. He stood up and walked Ryan out. They waved goodbye before Brendon shut the door. He paused for a moment, lip pulled between his teeth and giggling to himself.
"Are you gonna ask him out?" Brendon jump at the voice and spun around to see his parents hovering behind him.
"What? N-no. I don't– We're not–," Brendon stuttered.
"I like him," Boyd stated. "I think he's good for you."
"He's really sweet B," his mom added. Brendon's face grew red with embarrassment. He moved passed his parents, choosing to ignore their wishes for their son to date the soccer star.
He laid in bed that night with Ryan once again occupying his thoughts. He found it hard to keep the boy out his mind now a days. At least he knew he had his parents' approval if anything happened between them.
