The Pros And Cons Of Breathing::Original Slash::016::Lethal Pneumonia And The Double Hawk

Ryan

The stranger put his hands to his ears, jerking backward, almost like he was trying to get away from the screaming. Pretty much the same way I was.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA---" and Alex was still screaming.

When he finally calmed down (meaning, when he finally ran out of air), he jumped up and down, bounding over to the new guy. "What are you doing here, you whore?!" he demanded, punching the other guy on the arm playfully.

"I'm not allowed to visit every once in a while?" the guy asked, smiling this impish grin that reminded me of the one Alex gave me earlier.

"Not without calling first!" Alex said, grinning.
"We thought you were Batman!"

"Batman...?"

"It's a long story," I said quietly, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. I mean, I've done it enough already. Who's to say I haven't filled my quota?

"Oh, whoa, hey," Alex shook his head quickly, almost like he had forgotten that I didn't know the person he seemed to be so excited to see. "This is my brother Jacob," he explained. "Jake, this is my..."

I felt a little smirk coming on and I stared at him, waiting for him to say the "F" word so I could win the bet.

"...Ryan. Jake, this is my Ryan," he finished, sending me that smile again.

Jacob and I shook hands, and he rose a brow. "His Ryan, huh? He's never had a Ryan before."

"Well, It's nice to know I haven't got much competition," I smiled back, partly because I was trying to be polite, mostly because he hadn't said anything about my eye, for which I was grateful. He seemed to get it.

"So, how come I've never seen you before?" Jacob asked, letting go of my hand and looking around the room. "I mean, I was here earlier this Summer."

"Oh, I just moved in next door," I said, nodding my head at Alex's balcony, where you could see my room.

"Jen moved out?"

"He's Jen's nephew," Alex said, shaking his head once. "Moved here from New York."

Jacob winked, "That explains the cute accent, then."

I felt my cheeks heat up. What is it with the West boys and their ability to make me blush so easily? "Um..."

"Is this your---?"

"No," Alex said quickly, and I think he was blushing a little, too. "No."

Jacob smirked. "You sure? Seems like your---"

"No," Alex repeated, and, yeah. He was definitely blushing. He cleared his throat, "Anyway, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at CSU?"

Jacob shrugged. "I asked Dad to pick me up, and he did. Needed to talk to you about something."

"What?" Alex asked curiously.

Jacob glanced at me, bit his lip, and said,
"Maybe later. So, you staying for dinner, Ryan?"

"Your mom kind of talked me into it over the phone," I answered sheepishly.

Jacob answered, as if he knew exactly what I meant. "She tends to do that. Probably misses cooking for a million people. She always loved it when I brought Tara over."

Alex smirked at this. "Speaking of Tara..."

Jacob groaned, "Alex..."

"...how is she? Haven't heard anything from you in a while," he added, poking his brother in the side.

Jacob jumped at the contact, then sighed. "Tara's... fine, I guess. She's fine."

Alex rose a brow. "You guess? She's your girlfriend; how can you guess?"

"We haven't had much time to talk, lately," Jacob mumbled. "Both been busy."

"Busy?" Alex repeated. "You guys okay?"

"Boys!" Mrs. West called up the stairs. "Dinner's ready!"

Alex

"So, Jake, how's school?" Patricia asked, picking at her lasagna.

Jake swallowed, "School's good," he answered thickly. He swallowed a little more, "Still got the same three roommates, even though one of them is a Junior. Whatever," he shrugged. "And, Williams is, apparently, working on another one of her 'great masterpieces' for us to perform at the end of the semester, just before break."

"I'm still upset about you not letting us see your last play," Mom said, frowning. Jake blushed,

"Oh, well, it wasn't that important anyway. Besides, it was a little... different. Mrs. Williams has a strange point of view when it comes to literary art and plays," he mumbled to himself. He cleared his throat, looking at Ryan, who was twirling his food absent-mindedly. "So, Ryan, how long have you lived here?"

"'Bout a month," Ryan answered, twirling a piece of lasagna into his mouth.

"You like it here?"

Ryan paused, thinking, and he finally answered, "It's... better. Definitely better."

"If you're hanging out with Alex, I assume you've met Dani as well?"

"Oh, yeah," Ryan said dramatically. "I met Dani."

"There's always a new adventure with that girl around," Patricia said. "Haven't seen her around in the mornings, lately," she added, winking at me. I stopped myself from rolling my eyes, and no one said anything for a while. We all just ate in this comfortable silence until---

"So, what kinds of words are kids using for sex these days?"

"Mother!"

"Patricia!"

She looked around innocently. "What?" she asked, and I noticed that Ryan was trying hard not to laugh. "I'm only curious. In my day," she began, leaning in to the table and giving us this little smirky-thing, "we called it something completely different. And I know, because I heard someone saying the most awful word in the supermarket yesterday."

"Can you please change the subject, Mother?" Dad asked, rubbing his temples, as if the thought of his mother and sex was giving him a migraine.

Patricia sighed, "Fine, fine," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm going out tonight," she said.

Dad looked up at this, raising a brow. "Oh? Who with?"

"Oh, just this friend of mine. We're going bowling, is all," she added.

It was Jake's turn to raise a brow. "Bowling," he repeated slowly. Patricia nodded,

"Oh, yes. Roger tells me---"

"Whoa whoa whoa, Roger?" Dad asked, lifting his hands up to his head again. "You're going on a date?"

I felt my jaw drop for a second before I closed my mouth, suddenly realizing why she had asked us about "new" words for sex. I coughed loudly, standing up,

"Um, I have to get--- something," I said, walking over toward the kitchen. I ignored the voices coming from the dining room and opened the 'fridge door, looking around for absolutely nothing.

Hm, let's see. Iced tea, milk, cream cheese, some bagels, butter, eggs, my grandmother having sex...

I shut the door quickly.

***

It was still raining when Jake, Ryan, and I made our way upstairs. In fact, it didn't seem like it would ever stop raining, which was weird, since it doesn't usually pour like this in San Francisco.

"Don't you have class tomorrow?" I asked Jake, sitting down on my bed Indian style. Jake leaned against the wall, and Ryan sat down in my swivel chair.

Jake sighed, "Technically..." I rolled my eyes.

"It takes, like, two hours to get to CSU from here," I pointed out. "Shouldn't Dad be taking you now?"

Jake shrugged, "Look out your window. Do you see the rain? I'm not gonna let Dad drive me back in that, with his million-year-old eyeballs."

I shook my head, laughing, "You're so crazy."

"I'm not the one with the purple hair," he retorted, smirking. He turned to Ryan, "So..."

"Are you gonna interrogate me now?" Ryan asked warily. Jake grinned,

"Well, I need to make sure my little brother is hanging out with the right kind of people," he said.

Ryan sighed, spinning around in the chair. "Well, what do you want to know?"

"Well, why you moved from New York would be a nice place to start."

"That's kind of a long, dramatic story," I said, and Ryan looked down. "You wouldn't be interested." Well, that's a lie.

Jake rolled his eyes, "Fine. Why are you living with Jen?"

"She took me and Pammy in last month," Ryan said.

"Pammy?"

"My little sister."

"Why? I mean, where are your parents?"

"I don't know where my dad is, but my mom died not too long ago."

Jake's face fell. "Oh. Do you mind me asking when?"

Ryan shrugged, but his jaw clenched a little. "A little less than two months ago."

One thing I loved about Jacob was that he always knew when not to ask something. He was like me in the sense that we both rambled when we were nervous or uncomfortable, but he always knew when to drop something.

"Ah. When's your birthday?"

One thing I didn't love about Jacob; he was about as awkward and obvious as a hawk with two sets of wings.

Ryan laughed a little at his pathetic attempt to change the topic. "May seventeenth."

"And you're seventeen?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. You're pretty short for a seventeen-year-old," Jake commented, and I smirked a little.

"I get that a lot," Ryan admitted, and we laughed.

There was a loud clap of thunder, and we all jumped, our heads swiveling toward the window.

"Jesus," Ryan muttered. "I thought it didn't rain so much in San Francisco."

I shrugged, "Weather must be bi-polar today."

Jake sighed, "I guess I'm just gonna have to spend the night here, then. Ryan probably will, too," he added.

"Why?" Ryan asked, looking confused. Jake scoffed,

"Like Mom's gonna let you walk in that."

"Yeah, she'd never risk it," I agreed, nodding solemnly. "She'd think you'd end up with some kind of lethal pneumonia and then she'd blame herself for it, because she let you walk in the rain."

"So, I should call Jen, then?"

"I think that'd be wise."

Ryan sighed, getting up out of the chair and walking out of the room, mumbling something about finding the phone.

He wasn't even gone for two seconds before Jacob smirked.

"You like him."

I gaped. "Do not!"

Jake rolled his eyes, "It's so obvious. Every time he says something your eyes shoot toward him, and you get this weird look on your face."

"What look?"

"Your Ryan look."

I scoffed. "Pssh. I don't have a Ryan look," I said, waving my hand through the air.

"Apparently you do," Jake countered. "Does he even know?"

"No," I said. "And I'd prefer if it stayed that way."

Jake sighed dramatically, "You are so oblivious, I swear. Why wouldn't you want him to know?"

"Because what if he doesn't like me? What if he's not even gay?" Cue the dramatic hand motions.

Jake rolled his eyes this time, "You really are oblivious. Can't you see it?"

"See what?" Some arm flailing.

"He's obviously gay. God, Alex, you're either really stupid, or really blind."

I gestured --a little too hard-- towards myself. "Don't you think I'd know if he was gay, Jake? And, even if he is, why would he like me?"

Jake gave me a hard stare. One that pretty much said I swear, if you start making me list all the good things about you, I'll kill you.

I rolled my eyes, "Really, though."

Jake sighed heavily, "Alex, you're really pathetic. You know that?"

"Thanks."

"There are plenty of reasons that he would like you."

"Like...?"

Another sigh. "Like, you're funny and creative and fun. I mean, I know not a lot of people like that in a guy, but, maybe..."

"Your sarcasm isn't appreciated right now, you know."

"I'm just saying..." he said, rolling his eyes.
"Now, putting his sexuality aside, do you like him?"

I shifted uncomfortably on my bed, looking down at my feet, which were still crossed at the ankles. I should get new shoes...

"Well?" Jake prompted, and I sighed.

"Well... I don't know. Maybe. I mean, I've only known him for a month, and..."

"And...?"

"And... I think so. Maybe. I don't know. I know I'm attracted to him, but..."

"You need to stop this 'not finishing your sentences' thing."

I ran a hand through my hair, "Look, if he's straight, there's no point in admitting if I like him or not. For a gay guy, there's no crush more unrequited than the one you have on your straight neighbor."

"Stop being so dramatic."

"Oh, I forget. That's your thing."

"Damn straight," Jake nodded seriously, then stopped. "Stop trying to change the subject."

Damn.

"You're basically telling me that the only thing stopping you from admitting you like him is the fact that you don't know if he's gay."

"Well---"

"No! There is no 'well' in this, Alex. You like him. I can tell," he added when I opened my mouth to protest. "You at least admitted that you're attracted to him."

"Well, he always wears these tight jeans, and---"

"No excuses," Jacob interrupted me, smirking.

"There's more to liking someone than physical attraction, y'know," I said, crossing my arms and glaring.

"Like what?"

I threw my hands up in exasperation, "I don't know! I mean, he's smart and funny and, God, so pretty. And he's so, like, witty. And he reads. Seriously. I didn't know anyone did that anymore. And then he's always making these sarcastic comments that I have to Google to understand, and..." I sighed.

Jake smiled at me, and when he spoke next, it was kind of soft, like he was afraid of scaring me. "Alex, do you feel nervous around him?" I nodded. "Do you get these weird butterflies in the pit of your stomach?" I always thought they were more like bowling balls, but I nodded anyway. "Do you start rambling around him all the time about things that don't even matter? Do you notice all the small things he does, things that you really shouldn't be paying attention to anyway? Do you like it when he looks at you, or when he has his attention on you?" I nodded again, and his smile widened a little bit. "Alex, what does all that tell you?"

"Okay," Ryan walked back into the room, closing the door and looking a little flustered. "Jen said it was okay if I stayed here and that she'd drive Pammy to school and--- why are you looking at me like that?"

I hadn't realized until then that I was staring at him, my lips parted a little. I blushed immediately, looking back down at my beat up Vans before looking back up at him. He was looking at me curiously, and his hair was perfect, covering up his whole left eye so that only the bottom part of his bruise showed. There was a tiny scar on his face that I'd never noticed before, on the left side of his jaw, and it just made his skin even more perfect; it just made him seem more real. His lips were pouty and pink, and his piercings were kind of glinting in the light of my room, and all I could think was I've never kissed someone with a lip ring before, let alone two...

And there was all that stuff I was saying before about his personality and his sarcasm, and then all that stuff Jake was asking me. The butterflies bowling balls, the mindless ramblings, the little things I always seem to notice about him...

"You play guitar with your left hand, you know."

Did I say that?

He looked confused. "What?"

I grabbed his wrist, pulling him down onto the bed. "When you were playing Guitar Hero, you were playing with your left hand. I've seen you write with your right."

"Oh." He blushed at this for some reason, and he bit one of his lip rings. "I'm ambidextrous. I just prefer writing with my right and playing with my left. I don't know; it's stupid," he finished, mumbling.

I gave him a small smile, and bit my lip when I said, in probably the softest voice I've ever used in my life, "That's not stupid, Ryan."

And he smiled back at me.