Guitar Hero

****

"Will you turn that down, please?"

No answer

"Chad! Turn the volume down!"

Still no answer.

Ryan disentangled himself from his favourite yoga position – or as Chad liked to call it; 'a contortion even monkeys can't manage!' – and stomped down the stairs.

The doors of the living room were flung open, cushions were strewn all over the floor and the TV was blasting out music so loud Ryan had to cover his ears. Standing on the coffee table, dressed in only his boxers and a shirt, was Chad, flailing his arms about and shaking his head.

Ryan gestured at him, shouted some more and even threw one of the fallen cushions at him, but Chad remained oblivious. Trying a different approach, Ryan grabbed the remote and pressed the 'off' button. Immediately Chad stopped 'dancing' and caught sight of Ryan, standing with his arms folded across his chest.

"Hey man, what was all that about? Don't be breaking my flow, when I'm shaking the 'fro."

"Firstly, never talk like that again, you sound ridiculous."

"You just don't appreciate my creative ability."

"No, I don't appreciate you standing on the coffee table. Get off it right now! It was a present Mother brought back from India."

Chad obediently stepped down and walked towards him.

"C'mon, Ry. Play some Guitar Hero with me. There're some awesome tunes on the new one."

"Oh, 'tunes' are they? Sounds more like meaningless thumping and banging turned up to an inhumane level to me.

"This is rock music, dude, not showtunes. It needs to be played loud."

"You were disturbing my yoga."

"Well, I was providing a soundtrack for your godawful bending and stretching."

"You know I need complete silence to meditate, you should respect that."

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry. I just got carried away with the riffs and everything. And I do respect you; I'm a good boyfriend, aren't I?"

"Partner. We're partners, Chad, not boyfriends. That was Senior Year."

"Whatever you say, lover."

Chad batted his eyelashes, something he knew Ryan could never resist. Struggling to maintain his glare and not throw himself into Chad's arms, Ryan opened his mouth to answer when Chad seized his tshirt and pushed him against the wall.

"Ow, Chad! That's not fair, I'm still mad at you."

"No you aren't, I can see you blushing."

"I am not. I'm merely flushed after my yoga."

"Lies," Chad replied, before lunging and Ryan's pale throat.

"Ahh.......that's not fair......I...."

His words were soon smothered as Chad clashed their mouths together. All pretence of anger forgotten, Ryan slid his hands down Chad's back and rested his fingers under the boxer's waistband.

Abruptly, Chad dragged Ryan away from the wall and pulled him backwards over the sofa. They landed in a tangle of limbs, still locked together at the mouth, hands frantically untucking shirts. Chad reached out for the remote and turned the TV back on. The rock music blared out once again but Ryan, moaning Chad's name as he fumbled with his zipper, couldn't care less.