“Don’t know where your dad heard that from. Sure as hell not my grandpop, but my mom sure yells loud enough. If they were in the same vicinity, maybe.” It was stupid to think that this boy would want him, but the way his eyes had looked to his lips, well, Geoff couldn’t help but hope. “My mom beat my sorry ass and shouted it to the neighborhood. Said that if I wanted to, well, I’d be judged in front of god. Here I am, god. I’m ready for your almighty power to fuck me in the ass.”
“Course your not a pretty boy,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow. Before he could even answer the other question, dare to move closer, there was an angry voice calling the boys name and Geoff was cringing at the yell. He didn’t need this in his life. A boy who’s parents wanted nothing to do with him. Geoff waved at Ryan as he was dragged away before making his way into the church. He noticed how the older woman stared at him as if he were the devil himself, while his grandfather was smiling at him, waving him over. Geoff easily settled down next to him, leaning back and letting the words wash over him. As much as he didn’t agree with some of the teachings, he clung to the thought of a God, of a being that was all loving, all accepting.
After the service, Geoff followed his grandfather around, greeting people and ignoring the whispers whenever he passed. His grandfather probably made him sound like some god-fearing lad when instead, he looked like the punk he was. It wasn’t awful, honestly. He liked the way they seemed to fear him when the only bad thing about him was the mouth he used. He swore far more than he should and he didn’t give two fucks about what people thought, most times. Sometimes he did, like with the boy he was caught kissing and how he denied it all. It made his heart ache to think about it still, shaking it off. He said a goodbye to his grandfather, telling him he’ll meet him at home, before walking out of the church.
Once out there, he looked towards where he saw Ryan coming from when they had met. Maybe he would be over there. He was hoping. Geoff shoved his hands in his pockets, walking in the direction and looking around. He didn’t trust anyone in this town. He was sure they would try something. There was something about hate that seemed to drive people to still want to try to hurt him even if he looked as scary as he could. When he reached the picnic table, he smiled at the other boy. “Hey James. Pretty damn good set of names you’ve got there. James Ryan Haywood. Rolls of the tongue like heaven.”
Even after getting back into the church and settling down next to his younger siblings, assuring them that nothing was wrong, he couldn't stop thinking of the boy outside. It became especially hard to ignore after he stepped into the church, leather and tattoos shining like a beacon in the house of God. He had to hide the smile on his lips, instead bowing his head to try and hide it, hands clasped in front of him. It was easy to ignore the angry glare he was getting from his Father, questioning glances from his Mother--but for some reason, he couldn't stop himself from glancing up at Geoff, wondering if he was going to look over.
As their attention was called back to the front by the pastor, telling them to bow their heads and begin to pray, Ryan pulled his eyes away and pressed his hands together, bringing his forehead down and pressing it against the sides of his hand. Now was not the time for these thoughts, he noted to himself. It was only after this that Ryan was able to focus, letting the words of God wash over him, small smile touching at his face.
As service drew to a close and people began to file out, his Mother gathered up the children and ushered them off to their area for their after-church activities and his Father filed out with some of the men from the congregation, only telling Ryan that he had to be back before curfew and they would talk about what he was doing outside of church. He was thankful that he was allowed to slip away, quickly ducking back to his little wooded clearing, hoping that maybe Geoff would be nearby. Even if he hadn't, he'd be able to see the boy get on his bike from that spot.
Sure enough, he noticed the boy walk out of the church. He tried to ignore the way his heart skipped, hurrying over so that he could talk to him. A quick glance back to ensure that none of his Mother or Father's friends were looking over to the area before ducked into the trees and entirely out of view. Geoff thankfully got the message, walking into the wooded area and giving him a smile that made him lose his breath. He was good when he smiled, the small crinkle of his eyes at the corner. It was almost... pretty.
Ryan leaned back on his hands, eyebrow arching up at the other. "Glad you like it. Now that you've got my name, though, say it right: I usually go by James Ryan." He said, giving a small shrug. Then, a smirk pulled at his lips, eyebrow arching. "Gotta say though, that sounds a lot like flirtin'. You got somethin' to say, boy?" He asked, Southern accent dipping deeper into his words. He usually tried to keep it at bay with people that weren't from around town, but after church and being around others who spoke the same way he did, it was near impossible.
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