[Nevermind smiling, being told it was a good plan has him beaming, looking more than a little proud of himself. Like he's said, he takes risks when he has good reasons, and he figures this is definitely one.]
You're welcome. Maybe you'll get lucky and they'll leave you alone in the morning?
Maybe I'll get lucky and come down with the plague. Hide out here for the rest of the year.
[His eyes close for a moment, head tilting up and sinking more firmly into the pillow, but he's not ready to sleep yet; he rolls his shoulders, twists his back once or twice, and then his eyes open again. Even when he used to sleep on solid ground and park benches, his body never felt as tense as it has lately.]
It was just - that night. Everything, how it all happened. It didn't mean anything.
[His tone pretty much adds a giant I'm lying through my teeth to the end of the statement.]
[He's not sure whether he wants to call John on that, whether it's a good idea-- the tone makes it obvious, but his thoughts had felt so conflicted earlier. In all honesty he's not sure John's aware.]
...didn't mean anything for the two of you? Or for you?
[And he remembers lying beneath the big old tree near the graveyard with Petre earlier that day, watching him when he seemed to have fallen asleep. Little images, just as he took them in: the soft curve of a closed eyelid. The sweep of dark eyelashes across a pale cheek. The peaceful line of his lips. The slight tilt of his neck. That sense of wonder that he could look so innocent at all.
He's certain he's bleeding thoughts again, they're so strong, but it's like his own brain is fighting with him. Throwing up exactly what disproves his chosen beliefs.]
Everything was fucking confusing, that was just another one to add to the pile. It's done now.
[God, those images are hard to take in. Not just because of his own attraction-- he definitely still finds himself physically drawn to Petre, how could he not?-- but because of the way John had obviously paid attention, taken it all in with such clarity, and the way it makes Ryan wonder if he notices anything about him in the same way.
There's no flicker of outright jealousy this time, just a sense of want that he tries hard to push away. It's selfish as fuck, he knows.]
Jesus, will you back off this? I'm not going to, that's what matters.
[The sheer scale of his defensiveness gives him away. It's becoming obvious that the entire process will be pointless with Ryan. Maybe he went through the same thing himself, before -
- okay, no. John can't just start accepting this. But it's not going away, either.
Irritated, he rolls to face away from Ryan on the little cot.]
I'm not stupid either. He got to me, but he's not gonna win.
[He just worries. He just doesn't like it, either, because John's mixed up about it happening once and he isn't certain it couldn't happen again. He just doesn't want to see him sucked into something he warned Ryan to avoid.]
[There's certainly no risk of John telling Ryan about their planned getaway to NYC the following weekend, given that they've established how terrible he'd be at keeping pranks and misbehaviour a secret, so that's one thing he doesn't need to worry about.
(Although John is now. How in god's name did that plan happen again?)]
I know. I've been dealing with this since last year. I know his whole act.
[Slowly, he rolls onto his back again, eyes shifting over to meet Ryan's.]
Look. It's not like I expected it either. [Because yeah, he can tell Ryan's more than just worried. It's extremely awkward given that they actually shook on being friends, so John's been trying to ignore it, but he knows that Ryan has some sort of issue over it not being him.]
[There's an unavoidable little pang of guilt at that- god, he knows, doesn't he, he'd probably let too much slip through- but Ryan isn't about to outright admit to it, either. Not when they're only recently friends. John's known Petre for a year already, of course it makes sense.
He still doesn't meet his eyes for long before he shifts to lie down himself, on his back, arms folded behind his head. Eyes fixed on the ceiling.]
Nobody does. [He shrugs slightly, casual as he can make it. (Don't go and ruin it.)] It just- happens, right? Don't worry about it, I get it.
You know how I am, Ryan. You've seen it. [He's twitchy with the whole idea of guys being into him. Coming on to him. He's really a toe over the line into homophobia.] No, I'm not taking this that well. And the amount it's freaking me out would probably piss you off.
[He's trying to do the right thing here, man, give him a break.]
[...he sighs and rolls onto his side to face John, giving him a look that's more open than neutral. Frank, just like the tone of his thoughts.]
So you're not taking it well-- and who else are you going to talk to? Because with the way you feel about it, it's going to eat at you if you don't. That's not the kind of thing you can bottle up and keep that way, is it.
[He doesn't smile, but there's a hint of wry humour in the tone of his thought.]
He kissed me first. Twice. And I didn't know - just not knowing drove me crazy. Usually he just had to touch me and my skin would crawl. So I tried it back.
[Maybe it's just now occurring to him that those previous touches were unwelcome, non-consensual, and very deliberate and aggressive despite how gentle they often were. He's never welcomed or actually initiated that kind of contact, except -
- when he touched Ryan's hair, actually. Played with it, if one wants to get down to brass tacks.]
[He can't be anything but blunt with this, he just can't- but he's sure John gets that kind of thing.]
No shit you didn't like it when he touched you. Would you like it if some girl were hanging all over you when you'd told her you weren't interested, just because you're into women? Hell of a lot different from letting her kiss you, isn't it.
[He actually sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed at that, mouth falling open in indignation.]
I was not panicking or flirting, alright -
[Pointless. Fuck. That's two people who see right through him now, although Ryan is really just stating the obvious. Defeated, he collapses back onto the bed.]
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You're welcome. Maybe you'll get lucky and they'll leave you alone in the morning?
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[His eyes close for a moment, head tilting up and sinking more firmly into the pillow, but he's not ready to sleep yet; he rolls his shoulders, twists his back once or twice, and then his eyes open again. Even when he used to sleep on solid ground and park benches, his body never felt as tense as it has lately.]
It was just - that night. Everything, how it all happened. It didn't mean anything.
[His tone pretty much adds a giant I'm lying through my teeth to the end of the statement.]
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...didn't mean anything for the two of you? Or for you?
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[And he remembers lying beneath the big old tree near the graveyard with Petre earlier that day, watching him when he seemed to have fallen asleep. Little images, just as he took them in: the soft curve of a closed eyelid. The sweep of dark eyelashes across a pale cheek. The peaceful line of his lips. The slight tilt of his neck. That sense of wonder that he could look so innocent at all.
He's certain he's bleeding thoughts again, they're so strong, but it's like his own brain is fighting with him. Throwing up exactly what disproves his chosen beliefs.]
Everything was fucking confusing, that was just another one to add to the pile. It's done now.
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There's no flicker of outright jealousy this time, just a sense of want that he tries hard to push away. It's selfish as fuck, he knows.]
You haven't thought about doing it again?
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[And he closes his eyes again, more tightly this time.]
Not seriously. Not actually considering it.
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[He shouldn't be asking. He should just be dropping the subject and giving John a fucking break.
But he's the one who brought it back up, wasn't he, and Ryan can't help wanting to know.]
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[The sheer scale of his defensiveness gives him away. It's becoming obvious that the entire process will be pointless with Ryan. Maybe he went through the same thing himself, before -
- okay, no. John can't just start accepting this. But it's not going away, either.
Irritated, he rolls to face away from Ryan on the little cot.]
I'm not stupid either. He got to me, but he's not gonna win.
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[He just worries. He just doesn't like it, either, because John's mixed up about it happening once and he isn't certain it couldn't happen again. He just doesn't want to see him sucked into something he warned Ryan to avoid.]
Just be careful, okay.
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(Although John is now. How in god's name did that plan happen again?)]
I know. I've been dealing with this since last year. I know his whole act.
[Slowly, he rolls onto his back again, eyes shifting over to meet Ryan's.]
Look. It's not like I expected it either. [Because yeah, he can tell Ryan's more than just worried. It's extremely awkward given that they actually shook on being friends, so John's been trying to ignore it, but he knows that Ryan has some sort of issue over it not being him.]
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He still doesn't meet his eyes for long before he shifts to lie down himself, on his back, arms folded behind his head. Eyes fixed on the ceiling.]
Nobody does. [He shrugs slightly, casual as he can make it. (Don't go and ruin it.)] It just- happens, right? Don't worry about it, I get it.
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[God, it's a pointless statement at this point, isn't it?]
- I don't know what the fuck it is. Never mind. I'm just gonna be an asshole if I try to talk about it.
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[That gets Ryan to glance back over, eyeing him with a worried little frown.]
I'm not trying to brush you off, I just don't-- I'm not good with the whole 'knowing what to say' thing.
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[He's trying to do the right thing here, man, give him a break.]
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So you're not taking it well-- and who else are you going to talk to? Because with the way you feel about it, it's going to eat at you if you don't. That's not the kind of thing you can bottle up and keep that way, is it.
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[He doesn't smile, but there's a hint of wry humour in the tone of his thought.]
He kissed me first. Twice. And I didn't know - just not knowing drove me crazy. Usually he just had to touch me and my skin would crawl. So I tried it back.
[Maybe it's just now occurring to him that those previous touches were unwelcome, non-consensual, and very deliberate and aggressive despite how gentle they often were. He's never welcomed or actually initiated that kind of contact, except -
- when he touched Ryan's hair, actually. Played with it, if one wants to get down to brass tacks.]
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No shit you didn't like it when he touched you. Would you like it if some girl were hanging all over you when you'd told her you weren't interested, just because you're into women? Hell of a lot different from letting her kiss you, isn't it.
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But there's still never been anyone else, and I'm seventeen. Shouldn't there be some kinda sign before that?
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I was not panicking or flirting, alright -
[Pointless. Fuck. That's two people who see right through him now, although Ryan is really just stating the obvious. Defeated, he collapses back onto the bed.]
Why him. Of all people.
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[Ryan stays where he is even when John sits up- this time the answer's more genuine than the previous times he's given it.]
Because he was there, I guess. Managed to push just the right buttons.
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What he does, in other words. Fuck, Ryan, he can never know this. This is what he's wanted all along.
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[He has literally every reason not to, after all.]
Just- whatever happens with him, don't let him take all your time, okay? And don't take that the wrong way.
[That's added quickly, before he continues.]
...you're kind of the only person I really hang out with. I mean, you probably know that, but.
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[- oh. Oh shit. He can't believe Ryan just said that. It's embarrassing as hell and kind of sweet in a way he doesn't want to admit.]
- dude. [He laughs shakily.] You're basically my one link to sanity right now. I'm not going anywhere.
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[He meets that shaky laugh with a crooked little grin.]
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