It's three AM and I find myself walking through an upper-middle class neighborhood with a common acquaintance. He seems quieter than normal, and I've been trying to figure out why.
"Ryan, are you feeling okay?" I ask with moderate sincerity but with a hint of sarcasm, hoping to break his reverie.
"Yeah, I am, I guess." he responds with only half interest.
"Seriously, dude. Why are you bugging on me tonight?" I'm really concerned now. It always rips my heart to shreds to see him like this. How can something so beautiful feel such ugly sadness?
"Don't pretend that you actually care, Bolton. I know the only reason why you're walking me home is because Sharpay stranded both of us at that lame-ass party. In fact, why don't you just leave me alone? You can go home and I'll bring you your truck in the morning." Venom seethes through his words, causing nothing but more heartache.
As we stand under a lamppost I grab his shoulders and force him to look me straight in the face. "I will do no such thing. I do care, Ry. That's why I asked. I want to know if I've done something to upset you. If not me, I want to make whomever makes you feel this way to learn intimate knowledge of what pain truly is. Please, I only want to help." I don't know what came over me. I feel so filled with wrath and vengeance for who-knows-whom, but at the same moment, I want to melt into an amorphous glob of sobbing, whimpering, nothingness. "Ryan, please tell me. It's been going on for a while, hasn't it?"
My grip holds him fast but his eyes avert my gaze with great effort. "It's just me. Now, let me go!" Ryan takes a swing at me and lands a right hook square into my jaw. I reel from the pain enough for him to work his way out of my grasp only to sock me in the gut while I'm already doubled over from the first hit. He starts to walk away, but only takes two steps before I tackle him to the concrete below.
We wrestle for dominance and, surprise, surprise, I win. Suddenly I'm straddling the petite blond effectively pinning his legs together and have a grip on each of his wrists, holding them above his head. "I'm only asking one more time. What's wrong?" Ryan makes a valiant effort to break from my restraint but it proves fruitless.
"Fine, but this stays between you and me, got it?" he almost threatens. I nod out of concern, curiosity, and albeit, slight arousal. Suddenly, he lunges at me again, simultaneous movement causing his torso to works its way toward mine and releasing his right hand, he cups said extremity behind my neck and crashes his lips against mine. I'm in complete shock. He pulls away, obviously disappointed that I didn't return the embrace. "Now you know. Ryan Evans is truly the fag that you and your buddies always accuse me of being. That's what's 'wrong'."
I still haven't moved from the shock even though he's no longer under me and is now about a half-block ahead, about two-thirds of the way to the next street lamp. I finally recover and make my way to him and catch up under the luminescence provided by the great city of Albuquerque. His pace quickens as I draw nearer, so I dive at his feet once more, but this time I knock him onto the plush lawn that lie adjacent.
He's on his back with fear shining through his ice-blue eyes. I take one breath to calm myself, and then another for courage. "I want to get two things straight, Evans. First thing is: I have never condoned the actions of my teammates, nor have I ever participated in their bigotry. Do not judge me by their choices."
Ryan merely scoffs. "And what's the second?"
I try to hide the smile that's tugging at the corners of my lips. "The other thing that I want to get straight is that I'm not." I watch for his reaction. He's clearly befuddled and I can tell he's repeating my words in his head.
"You're not what?" he finally asks.
"Straight." I respond as I lean in and give him a soft, yet passion-filled kiss like none other in history. I can feel him smile and that does nothing more than cause me to deepen my embrace. I finally remove my mouth from his and look into his eyes. "I want to hold you while you sleep." I mention and then kick myself for doing so. How creepy is that? I want to hold you. Ugh! Bolton you are such a pervert!
"We still have a mile 'til we reach my house. Let's actually get to a bed and then I'll let you hold me, Lover." I subconsciously purr in response, causing him to smile. We continue on our journey eastward, just as dawn breaks.
I chuckle to myself but receive a questioning look from my blond bombshell. "I guess we're more backwards then I thought." He still doesn't get it. "We're supposed to ride of into the sunset, not the sunrise." He tries to contain his laughter, but end up snorting. I take the opportunity to take his hand in mine and interdigitate. Oh, yeah. This is love.
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There y'all be. I actually was inspired by a couple of guys on my paper route this morning. I saw them brawling under the light and by the time I approached them, they were making out. I couldn't help but thing that it could've easily been Troy and Ryan. Please, Read and Review!