Land Down Under // Rydon AU

It's much easier to miss a train than it is to miss you arse, Brendon

~ Ryan ~

School fell into a lull, really. Not necessarily a boring routine, but a routine nonetheless. 

Brendon and I, during the day, act in a way that blurs the lines of platonic and romantic just enough that people can only guess what the hell we are. In the evening, We share lazy kisses and stories from back home. 

His nightmares, although it sounds odd, fascinate me. I don't know what they're about, but I've begun to put together a picture of what triggers them. Most of the time, they come when something bad happens to me, or Spence, or Pete. Like one time we got into a bit of a brawl at rugby, and some guy from the other team threw a punch at Pete. Pete was fine, just a bit shaken up, but Brendon was acting as if he was in a trance for the rest of the day, not really talking or eating. That night, He'd woken up screaming my name. I didn't say anything, I just crawled into his bed and held him, hoping that me just being there is enough to scare away whatever demons haunt his dreams.

So far, he's had six nightmares. He still hasn't opened up to me, but hopefully that'll change soon enough. The holidays start in a week, and He's coming to stay at the park for a fortnight. I'm nervous, to say the least. I'm still not sure what we are. I mean, we like each other, and, speaking for myself, I like him a lot. But we haven't really spoken about it. 

And, mum would pick up on anything if we carry on like we do at school. She may be completely oblivious to my gayness when I'm alone, but if I was with Brendon, well, I wouldn't stand a chance.

And, she wouldn't be mad, that's the thing. She'd be overjoyed. So filled with pride that she'd tell everyone in the park just how proud she was of her son. And then everyone would leave. And we'd have to sell the park. And we'd move away, and she wouldn't blame me. Not one bit.

I couldn't do that.

~

"Brendon, Your arse looks great, so hurry up or we'll miss the train." We're standing in the empty bathroom at central station. Brendon's checking himself out in the mirror, because of course he is, and our train is due in 10 minutes. 

"Babe, we have plenty of time." I blush at the nickname, making him smirk. 

"Bren, if you think this is enough time, you clearly haven't ever had to catch a train from central at peak hour." I glance down at my watch to emphasise that it is 5:46, and now we have nine minutes. 

"Ugh!" He purses his lips, clapping his arms to his sides, before joining me walking out of the bathroom. 

We walk at a brisk pace, slightly faster than the hundreds of other people bustling back and forth. The tunnel we're walking through now has a timeline painted onto the wall, picturing the history of the Sydney train lines. Brendon stops for a second, a picture of the half-built Dulwich Hill station in front of us. 

"Bren?" I rest my fingers on his hand lightly, trying to get his attention. He looks back at me, smiling with his eyes. "Bren" I stretch the "e" out, sounding a little more desperate than I intended. "Oh, sorry." He laces his fingers with mine, and we keep walking.

"What was that about?" I ask him.

"I dunno. It's just different from the subway back home."

"Culture shock?"

"No. I'm just looking at all the little things that make it different."

I laugh at how profound he makes the words sound. Brendon's funny like that, he acts like a goose half the time, but then he'll just hit you with a bout of nostalgia.