Ryden Oneshots

33 Vertebrae And A Spinal Cord

Summary: You don’t remember him being that skinny when you first met him.

You don’t remember him being that skinny when you first met him. He had always been slender, sure, but you couldn’t remember noticing just how drastically his spine pushed up against his skin or how you could almost – almost – count his ribs through his shirt, if you were looking hard enough.

But at that time he had just been the quiet kid in the corner scribbling things down in his notebook and avoiding your eye even when Brent had introduced the two of you. His handshake had been warm and inviting, but soft – like his eyes when you’d caught a glimpse of them – and his voice had been so quiet you’d hardly heard it.

“Ryan, this is Brendon. He goes to school with me and I thought we could try him out on backup vocals.”

Only then did he look up at you and you could get a real look at those eyes peaking through soft brown bangs. Something in your chest stirred and you felt weird all over, not nervous really, but just strange – like he was really seeing you with just that simple glance. And then his lips pulled back to reveal a warm, soft smile.

It was then that you started attributing both of those words to Ryan Ross –- warm and soft.

“Let’s give it a go then.”

When Brent had mentioned that he played bass in a band, you hadn’t been sure what you were expecting. But it definitely wasn’t being in a dank basement with the most timid ‘vocalist’ you’d ever met, his best friend on drums, his other best friend on bass, and rehearsing overplayed Blink-182 songs. Didn’t bands like this usually play in a garage? And they at least had their own songs to practice, right?

Before you could say anything Ryan had stepped up to the mic, his guitar resting against his narrow hips, and his mouth had opened to spout out the first few lyrics. His voice wasn’t very strong, or really all that good, but it was both those adjectives again – warm and soft.

It took you a second to realize Brent was looking at you and wondering when in the hell you were going to start doing your part and match Ryan’s voice. And you didn’t mean to – really you didn’t – overpower him, but suddenly the music stopped and everyone stared at you. Realizing exactly what you had just done, you looked down at your feet and felt like the biggest jerk.

But then that hand was on your shoulder and you were looking up to meet those eyes again.

“You’re pretty good.”

Then that smile followed and you decided you could deal with more practices like these.
---
It wasn’t until a year or so later that Ryan seemed to stop eating completely. You were worried, but afraid to bring up the subject. Spencer always hinted at ‘family problems’ and Ryan ‘going through a lot right now’ when you attempted to ask in that round-a-bout, nonchalant way that an outsider should ask.

So you thought it best to just avoid the subject and try your hardest to ignore the older boy’s once-tight jeans sliding off already narrow hips.

Until the day you came to practice earlier than usual, backpack slung over your shoulder so you could work on some homework before the others arrived, and stumbled in upon Ryan curled up in the corner of Spencer’s basement with his notebook open and his eyes staring blankly down at the page. It had never been just you and him before; and there had never been tell-tale streaks down his cheeks before; and god you just didn’t know what to do.

You took the temporary option of standing frozen in the doorway, hoping he hadn’t noticed you there yet -- because what would you do then? But you couldn’t make yourself pull away, especially when his shoulders started shaking slightly and the slightest of sobs hitched in his throat.