Ryden Oneshots 【2】

We Were Heading For The Sea

.:. Rating : NC-17 .:.

Summary: "And across the kitchen table/I fired several rounds/but you were still sitting there when the smoke cleared." -- Ani DiFranco

Brendon could see him from the beach. The house wasn't quite close enough that Brendon would be able to see anyone sitting on his back steps from the actual water but halfway up the sand he froze, surfboard tucked under his arm, eyes trained on the unmistakeable figure lounging on Brendon's steps.

For a moment he let himself not register things properly, thought instead about how awesome it would be if he could see Ryan on his back steps from the water, the sea surging up beneath him, the roll of the waves, standing on his board with his gaze fixed straight ahead as the world rushed to meet him. Then he groaned and rolled his head from side to side, cracking his neck. He wished, stupidly and uselessly, that he wasn't wearing a wetsuit and dripping everywhere, that he had a little more advantage in the situation, or at least an even footing. Brendon had been waiting. He'd known that this would happen, ever since Spencer called him last Monday and said, "So, we went to lunch," but he'd thought that Ryan would postpone the inevitable confrontation a while yet.

Apparently not, though when he got to the house Ryan didn't look very angry at all. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and smiled, said, "Nice waves. It looks good out there."

"Uh, yeah," Brendon said, dumping his board and running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, it's pretty – it's alright." He stopped, but Ryan didn't say anything else, just nodded and smiled at him. Brendon shook his head, scattering water everywhere, and asked, "You want to come in?"

"Sure," Ryan said, shrugging, and Brendon shot him an incredulous look and then went up the steps, brushing past Ryan to open the door. Ryan followed him in as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

"I'm going to get changed, one sec," Brendon said, and darted down the hall to peel his wetsuit off, settled into jeans and a t-shirt instead. For one wild moment he considered calling Spencer and asking for help, or a rescue mission. He'd been in a good mood, having a good day, and dealing with Ryan didn't feature into that plan.

In the kitchen, Ryan was drinking a glass of soda and helping himself to Brendon's fridge, laying out ingredients for a sandwich. "You want one?" he asked when Brendon stared at him in disbelief, and didn't wait for an answer, just put out another two pieces of bread. Brendon watched him slice up a tomato with quick, easy movements, and wondered for a moment if he'd wandered into a different dimension by accident.

"Ryan," he said. "What are you doing?"

"Having lunch," Ryan told him. He cast Brendon a rueful glance. "I forgot to go grocery shopping again, there's seriously not anything in my fridge. And the only places I can find open are supermarkets – I still have no idea where the fuck anything is around here – and I had a craving for, like, good vegetables, so I came here. You should really give me a key," he added. "It gets boring watching you surf after a while."

Brendon swallowed. "I meant," he said, "what are you doing here?"

"You always have good food," Ryan said.

Brendon said, "Ryan."

"What?" Ryan was frowning now at least, which felt slightly more normal in terms of the whole damn thing. "Are you mad at me?"