DAMN YOUR KISS; ryden

Chapter Sixteen: Don't Try To Sleep Through The End Of The World

Spencer's fingertips tapped a rhythmic beat against the counter top as he waited for his blueberry pop tart to be done in the toaster, and before long - like they always did when there was a beat going, he found him losing himself in it, slapping his hands on the counter, his legs, closing his eyes and muttering "floor tom, snare, bass, hi-hat, crash, crash, snare". It was something he couldn't help it. Whether it was just something embedded in him, or it was the drummer instincts ...

"Spence, door!" Linda yelled from the other room, breaking him out a reverie.

Spencer's eyes flung open, and his hands stilled mid beat. Sure enough, there was a knock on the door - three quick raps and two slower ones - and is pop tart was waiting for him, the bottom half now burnt and smoking, the top cold.

Sighing, he abandoned it, and went to the door.

And slumped against the door frame, head bowed and eyes closed like he'd powered down, in the same leather jacket, shirt and skinny jeans he'd been in when he'd last seen him, and the cheek facing Spencer a bright, painful looking red, was Ryan Ross.

"Ry." Spencer said in surprise, blinking at the unexpected guest. "Hi."

Ryan opened his eyes and gave Spencer a flick of his wrist as a wave, offering a small, almost sarcastic smile. "S'up."

"Not ... much." Spencer cleared his throat, rubbing his jaw, before coughing. "Um, what's up?"

"Up?" Ryan straightened up, brushing himself down. "Why would anything be up? Why would something be up for me to come and see you?"

"Your jaw and cheek." Spencer waved his hand at Ryan. "You get into a fight, or something?"

Ryan smiled like Spencer had just told him a funny joke. "Or something."

"Well, uh." Spencer stepped to the side and waved a hand. "Come on in."

Ryan slapped a hand to Spencer's shoulder, before patting his cheek, as he crossed into the house, grinning. "I thought you'd never ask."

Of course, by then, Linda had come into the hallway to see what all the commotion was - and also to complain about the draft the door was letting in - but she let that go, as she clapped eyes on Ryan. "Um," she blinked, her big doe-like eyes.

"Linda, this is Ryan." Spencer said in way of greeting. He didn't particularly feel the need to elaborate on Ryan's last name, given that it was probably pretty obvious to her. "And Ryan, this is my girlfriend, Linda Ignarro."

Ryan stuck his hand out to her, and after a stunned moment, she eventually took it, and they shook. Ryan's grin grew. "Charmed."

Linda smiled back, though it was an unsure, wary smile. "Quite." She wrinkled her nose when she straightened back up, putting her hands on her hips. "Can I smell burning?"

Ryan stuck his head right up in the air, as though he was a dog, sniffing around at a particularly interesting scent. "Blueberry pop tart if I'm not mistaken."

Linda sighed, and she rolled her eyes, giving Spencer a weary, disappointed look. "Spence, I've told you..."

Spencer ducked his head, muttering an apology, before crossing over to her, and kissing her cheek quickly. "And I'm sorry. I completely zoned out. Again. I'll clean it all up."

Her face softened, and she leant up to kiss him back. "As long as you do."

As soon as she was gone and out of earshot, Ryan turned back to his old friend and arched an eyebrow, giving a low whistle. "That's some leash she's got on you, dude." He patted Spencer's upper arm.

Spencer bristled, pushing him off. "I'm not on any leash. And that's my girlfriend you're talking about. Keep a civil tongue in your mouth, Ross."

Ryan's eyebrow just notched further up. "She have your balls in her trophy case?"

Spencer growled, and resisted the urge to pull at his hair, or hit Ryan. Or both. "If all you came here to do, after all this time, was to take the piss outta my personal life, then there's the door."

Ryan waved his hands, shaking his head. He even managed to sound apologetic as he said "I'm sorry. No, I didn't. I actually came here because ..." he paused for the longest time, chewing on his lip. "I'm kind of a mess right now."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "I noticed."

"No." Ryan's voice climbed an octave, instantly shaking all the heavy sarcasm from Spencer and making him look - really look - at Ryan. "I mean it. I'm falling apart at the seams."

Spencer felt a kick in his chest as Ryan said that - as the stupid tough guy bravado act dropped, and he was Ryan again - no, not Ryan. Ryan had a tendency to be cocky. Ryan was a front, a persona built up in order to protect what was underneath. Let what life threw at him bounce off, like Ryan was armour. But after a while, the lines between the two blurred, and ... Ryan let the hurt in. Right now, however, he was George.

And for everything that had happened between them, the band, the fights, the fact that they both walked away from one another - it didn't matter then, as Spencer grabbed a hold of Ryan and pulled him into a tight bear hug. "Tell. Me. Everything."

Ryan hugged back, somewhat awkwardly, before clearing his throat. "Um, I would, but you sort of choking me a lil' bit here, Spence."

"Oh, sorry." Spencer pulled away, giving him a sheepish smile, patting Ryan's arm awkwardly. "How about we mosey on into the kitchen, I make some coffee, and you tell me what's going on. Because I have the idea that this isn't about those songs you wanted me to take a look at."

"Sounds about right, old compadre."