summary: after thinking about a phone call he’d had with roman where he learned that conceal had pretty much ghosted everyone in his circle, angelo took matters into his own hands to help him feel better.
tags: conangelo, angst, depressive disorder, cigarettes, drinking, heavy cannabis use, *technically* DUI, dialogue heavy, ooc, proof read, conversations, rare pair,
note: (this is fan fiction; if you don’t like it, don't read it. it’s long and NOT PORN, sorry if that’s what you wanted. there’s other stuff out there. if you decide to complain in my comments, dont expect a response. okay, now with the people who are here for the fic and are for some reason reading this, get started. i do recommend having some kinda somber music for the first chapter, and some more fun, up beat songs for the second. have fun, if you have *constructive* criticism, please please leave it in the comments! my first time writing angelo, so i dont fully know if this is accurate. just written off what i’ve seen of everybody’s personalities online considering i [WE] do not know these people outside of what they show us! anyway shut up have fun bye.)
cw: drug use, drinking, talk of depression and anxiety
on the couch of his apartment, angelo sat quietly and admired the 4:00pm sunlight streaming in through the breaks in the curtains. it was quiet, only the hum of cars outside and the slow fan on the desk in the dining room. a tranquil afternoon alone always turned into a thought prison.
his phone sat face down on the couch next to him, untouched for the last hour. he’d been swimming in his own head, going over a specific conversation which he’d had with roman a few nights ago on the phone.
‘ “yeah… well, oh yeah uh, ryan’s been MIA, i’ven’t talked to him in like two weeks. he basically ghosted everyone after the shit with jonah, but i’m not sure if that was like, the reason, or what...” roman said, he sounded worried in a way that angelo wasn’t entirely used to, and it made him focus on his phone a bit harder than before..
“damn, for real? you know why? like did it really hit him or was he like, acting distant before that?” angelo responded, he wanted to ask vague questions for more open answers.
“nope, ion got any idea. he kinda was quiet before, but like, within the past three weeks he’s been like fully gone bro, i’ve been tryna text him, called him a few times too but he didn’t answer. last time we talked, he— i dunno, he just sounded, like, really tired.. he hasn’t talked to hollis in longer than i even know, bro, like… ion know what’s going on — I’m worried about him, y’know? he’s never ghosted me like this…” roman said, clearly kinda spacing out while he talked. he was worried, he was usually pretty attentive when he was talking to angelo about this stuff, but he just seemed so out of it…
“mmh. yea, ‘ts weird as fuck. he’s not like, being a dick though? he’s just ghosting you?” the way roman rambled about this made angelo realize that it was as serious as his tone was making it out to be.
“yeah…” he responded, immediately thinking about if anyone had even checked up on him at all, considering they’re all over the damn place… ’
as he thought back, his brain went right back to the first thought he’d had when roman told him about ryan’s absence; show up at his crib, get him in some regular clothes, get him outside and into some form of natural light, and truly just get him around some other humans. he didn’t care what was going on, he knew that whatever it was wasn’t good for ryan. he knew he had the ability to help, so he did.
he grabbed his phone from next to him, ignoring all the notifications in his downtime and going straight to his messages. he scrolls down far until he finds ryan’s contact, and he types out a text,
angelo: yo, we ain’t talked in a min, imma
come get you and go get some food
he sent it, then sent another,
he looked at his phone screen for a second, focused on the name card. he fo go through every bad thing that could be happening this this kid he’s known for so long...
angelo cared, he really did. ryan was so close to roman and the family generally, and he had been for a long time, so angelo had seen him grow up and hide so many parts of himself that he thought no one could see. but angelo could, he could see directly into ryan. he knew the kid was gay, there was no way he wasn’t. he knew he was different, a bit more shy than everyone else despite his comfort around those he felt seen by, and he knew just how anxious and lonely he was. he cared for the kid the way he did for all his close friends, regardless of if he was roman’s best friend or not. he was family, so he was going to be treated and cared for like family.
by 6:30, angelo was on the highway, headed over towards ryan’s house in east L.A. he had some music softly bumping, his anxiety was overtaking his need for any noise. usually, he’d need music to chill him out, take him out of his anxiety… but at this moment, it was just another noise in his ears that thumped in his head like a migraine. he stared hard out the windshield, making turns like muscle memory. the clouds was blushed by the sun, yellow and orange and purple clouds draped over the mountains dusted wide as they stretched towards the coast. warm, yellow light filtered through the los angeles smog and in through angelo’s tinted windows. the tint turned the highlights and shadows into dim tortoiseshell patterns along his thighs and the seat beside him. the dark was a dangerous place for him.
the hum of pavement beneath his tires vibrated through the floor into his laced up black vans. his hair was curly, tousled with a light gel before he left, and his skin felt softer and warmer than usual from his nervous sweat and the heat of the day. his eyes were low and glassy, weed and blooming greenery was no easy combination to face. he breathed in deeply, moving his left hand from the steering wheel to smooth over his hoodie and ground himself as he drove. he was truly preparing for the worst, he was getting ready to walk up and see flies swarming the windows and get hit with that sickly-sweet scent of decay as soon as he stepped inside. he knew it wasn’t doing him or ryan any good to think that way, to ruminate and assume the worst… but what else could he think? it’d been so long and everyone was so worried… their anxiety mixed with his as if in a perverse game of telephone.
he breathed out long and slow through his mouth and blinked his eyes hard, cranked the stereo and turned onto the backstreets to ryan’s place. he had to rip himself out of those harmful thoughts, force himself to think of the plans at hand. he was doing this to make shit better, not stress himself out anymore than he already was. the bass now reverberating throughout the entire vehicle, the seat beneath him vibrating along with every snare and every buzz. angelo knew this was what he’d needed the entire time; a fucking distraction. he pressed his foot down on the gas a bit harder, overtaken by some odd feeling that he was gonna be too late…
he swallowed and blinked hard again, doing his best to lock in and get there without killing himself or getting pulled over.
anxiety, some weird form of anticipation and hunger swirled around in his abdomen. the sensation made his brain fuck him over and sent awareness through his entire body. he could feel every limb, every inch of skin that covered his muscles… he hated when that happened. he could feel his arms and hands as they turned and bent while he drove… the vibrations in his feet rattled his bones and he could feel the music dancing around inside his veins.
he kept driving until he turned onto ryan’s street, parking quickly on the road and turning his car off. he sat in the driver's seat and stared out the window for much longer than he needed to. he sat and stared, feeling every single inch of his body, his arms now ached and his chest was tight and his stomach felt weird and he was hungry and—— shit… he hadn’t checked the time since he left. he turned his phone on and saw it was 7:05..
“aw, man what the fuck..” he muttered, grabbing his keys and phone and hopped out, slamming the door behind him hard. he stood by the car and inhaled deep as he crossed the street. he let his breath go as he stepped up the stairs. he reached the front door, knock knock knock knock… … no answer. he huffed, standing there for a few more seconds until he just got frustrated and tried the handle.
to his surprise, it gave and opened. he let himself in, walking into a dark, cigarette stained and dirty apartment. he stood in the doorway for a second, looking around and scanning his surroundings before pulling out his phone.
“i’m here,” he texted ryan, just to let him know he wasn't breaking in and trying to kill him. probably wouldn’t do much, considering the kid hadn’t opened his messages anyway.
he stared down at his phone, some naïve hope that ryan would open the text… but he didn’t. huffing and shoving his phone back into his pocket, angelo flipped his hood up and began towards ryan’s room. he walked slowly, making sure to take in everything that was around, as well as avoid all the fucking clothes on the ground. ryan clearly wasn’t a decorator, his walls and rooms were mostly bare. he had about three paintings for the entire flat, a couch with one tiny side table and one clearly used recliner sat in the living room.
a circular wooden table with four chairs in the dining room, cluttered with paper and cigarette butts. an old keurig and tea kettle sat on the counter in the kitchen, seemingly untouched for a while… as was with most things in the place… the kitchen sink with about six plates and four cups, as well as all seemingly unwashed for quite some time. bottles of brandy and whiskey sat on the counter adjacent, some open and some knocked over. the floor was cluttered with clothes and random papers and boxes, nothing crazy, but this was clearly a sign ryan wasn’t doing great.
as angelo stepped over a pile of clothes by the hallway, the cigarette smoke hit him like a truck, like someone lit a few and just let them burn. walking past the bathroom, he realized that’s what it was. it was still humid and warm, and it smelled like ryan had smoked after his shower. he walked in to see if anything was amiss within, turning the light on and noticing a towel on the floor, along with a plethora of clothes piled in the corner, bottles of conditioner and hair dye cluttering the counter. there seemed to be dried blood in the sink, his stomach immediately twisting a bit at the prospect of that…
he stood and observed, and he realized the silence wasn’t all that silent when a beat began to faintly come from the end of the hallway. he glanced up at the mirror to check his face and make sure he was really there…
but it was foggy. the spot his eyes landed, condensation dripped like a cruel mockery of his and ryan’s own internal struggles and uncertainties, comedic timing from the universe to see if he was strong enough for ryan, to do this.
he stared for a moment longer before a sharp inhale got sucked back into him when he heard a slam come from the bedroom at the end of the hall. he shot up and turned on his heel quickly, reach held as he flicked the light off and stood there to await anymore sounds.
“…ryan——?” he spoke loud and unsure, the sick thumping silence making his voice ache his own ears.
he stood in the doorway and waited — when he got no response, he stepped on the thick carpet dirtied with clothes and ashes towards ryan’s room. once he got close, he realized the door was just barely cracked. he stood as silently as he could, holding his breath again to be able to try and discern any sounds from inside as he stared through the crack. he observed it, unable to make anything out other than the blue light from a bluetooth speaker.
he waited and watched, listening for anything at all… and when there were none, angelo gently pushed the door open and walked in carefully. it was darker than the rest of the apartment, blackout curtains tucked and taped in order to keep every bit of light out. a soft fan hummed on the desk in the corner, swiveling slowly, and the speakers next to ryan’s pc pumped out slow, sad music.
he turned to look at the bed, seeing ryan laying on his stomach, clearly just having got out of the shower. ryan stayed so still it began to concern him. the room was stale, melancholy and smoke staining everything inside. it was absolutely a reflection of ryan’s mental state, he was not okay. with a sharp inhale, angelo stepped on clothes, chip bags and cigarette butts towards ryan, his eyebrows knitting together,
“yo, ry…” he spoke gently, noticing that ryan’s hair was wet and cold. his back was wet as well, obvious even in the dark room. angelo held his breath as he looked at ryan’s back, noticing the soft toned muscles under his tan olive skin. he stared, silently scanning every inch of his back from his boxers to his shoulders…
his tan, olive skin was gentle in the dark — glowy and smooth, soft curves and deep shadows of muscle rose and fell in a way that made angelo unable to pull his eyes from the boy, uneasy at that fact as he stared. his tendons and small, slight scars highlighted by the sickly dim blue light that filtered in despite ryan’s efforts to keep it out were ghostly. angelo swallowed hard, his mouth much drier than when he’d entered.
he only noticed that he was holding his breath when it finally escaped in a choked gasp — a weak ‘mmh’ from ryan as he tried pulling his other leg up onto the bed at least that proved he wasn’t fully passed out or dead. angelo’s breath fell heavy from his lips as he leaned forward and placed a hand lightly onto ryan’s back, noting how warm he was. his skin was hot and damp, he’d clearly tried to get himself together to some extent, but it obviously didn’t really end well.
he pressed his nails into ryan’s skin gently, “hey, you good? not dead?” angelo asked softly, lifting his nails and slowly rubbing circles over the youngers upper back. his heat was intense against angelo’s hand, he felt fevered, but he was soft, ryan’s skin almost felt tender and achey under his palm. the boy hummed again as angelo smoothed his hand over his back. he stayed there for a second longer, and angelo let his fingers softly rise and fall with the natural curves of muscle and bone, increasing awareness of every line and detail of his body.
his hand stuttered a bit as a muffled “ion know, maybe…” came from ryan into the blankets and a very slight shrug of his shoulder.
“wha’s goin’ on with you, dude?” angelo questioned, his brows still knit together. his hand remained softly swirling on ryan’s back as he sat beside him on the bed, an absent move of comfort.
“mm, i‘m—‘m fine, -ngleo… ‘m jus tired,” ryan mumbled, his voice hoarse and broken. he moved a bit to let himself breathe, a deep inhale and heavy sigh fell heavy from his lungs. angelo smiled sadly, he knew this kid needed some help. he was living in his head, physically and literally.
“aight, get up.” angelo stated, pressing his nails gently again into ryan’s back as he stood up and turned on the lamp. the hum of the fan and the thump of some sad song through ryan’s speakers were the only noises throughout the whole place, along with the blood incessantly rushing in his ears like a waterfall. angelo sucked in a breath and looked around for a moment, finding ryan’s phone and turning it on. it was at 6% and had more uncleared notifications than he’d ever seen.
he huffed and popped his hip as he quickly scrolled through a plethora of unread messages, instagram notifications and literally countless others. once he got to the bottom, he snapped his head up and looked at ryan still splayed out on the bed.
“what’s your password?” he asked, ryan groaned and pushed himself up slowly. the way he moved, it look like it ached when he moved. he was stiff and winced at certain movements, yet he sat up and blinked his eyes, squinting at the light as he stretched out his hand to grab his phone from angelo, “…’ere, lemme see.” he grumbled, clearly not lying about being tired. he leaned back as he typed his code in, immediately getting stuck on something.
“man— y’gotta get up. i’ain’ gon’ let you sit here in this dark ass apartment. you gotta wake the fuck up and get a clean shirt and clean pants and some fuckin’ shoes on.” he sighed, staring at the contours in ryans face this time, “you’re getting outta this house tonight, homie, no way out of it.” angelo spoke sternly and directly, he knew it would at least make ryan aware of his sincerity.
ryan stayed in his position, not even a nanometer of movement in response to angelo. the taller boy huffed, pulling his hood off his head, turning around and grabbing the first folded shirt and pair of jeans he saw, and threw it hard at ryan’s stomach. he was lucky to find anything clean in that room.
“mm, c’mon man, why?” ryan retorted with a huff as it hit, yet still deep in his phone.
“because, you fuckin’ ghosted all your friends and roman thought you’d killed your fucking self, ryan. ion care how fuckin’ sad or tired or whatever you are, you— man you really gotta get up outta this place,” angelo retorted, his voice strong and directed. “breathe some real air, go outside and actually fucking walk around.” ryan’s eyes flashed up and met his for a long second before they flicked back down to his phone and he continued typing. he stayed locked in on his phone, though lazily grabbing the shirt from his lap and holding it in his hand.
angelo began to get impatient, he leaned forward and pulled ryan’s phone from his hands, “man, fuck are you even doing?” angelo questioned, his brows knit together as he began to read ryan’s texts.
“—uh-man, what the hell—? ah-kay…” he groaned, though not caring enough to try and get it back. his hands ran over his face as he sighed, angelo scrolled though, and he saw that he’d been texting roman.
ryan: why is your brother at my house
ryan: angelo is inside my room right now .
roman: i haven’t talked to him since sunday
roman: attachment: one image
ryan: whatever just next time maybe
tell me if your brother plans on
walkinj into my house unannounced
roman: it’s nice to talk to you again,
too, ry. i didn’t have anything to do
with him showing up, i’ve been with
hollis and nate at my crib all day. you
fucking ghosted me and them for
almost a MONTH and this is the
shit i get when you decide to come back?
i get youre going through shit but just go
out with angelo, get your head out of your
ass and have some fucking fun. TEXT ME if
shit goes down, be nice and please don’t try
ryan: lol be nice ?? do u not realizee
its kinda stressful when someone
walks into ur house randomly??
but whatever you say roman, we
ryan: im calling you when i
get backZ you better fucking
roman: I’m not picking up.
roman: i told you not to call me.
angelo rolled his eyes and scoffed.
“why’re you acting like you didn’t know this was happening? you saw my text,” angelo questioned as he read, his frustration manifesting as a tight heat in his chest. ryan shrugged, his eyes slowly closing again as he laid on his back.
“man, just put the fucking shirt on and get up.” angelo insisted, he sighed as he spoke and just stared down at ryan on the bed. the boy groaned, stretching and rubbing his eyes before he pushed himself up again, grabbing the clothes angelo had thrown at him and walked stiffly over to his dresser.
he opened it and dug around for some socks and a new pair of boxers. angelo watched as he did, subconsciously tracking the muscles in his back as he moved. the room wasn’t well lit, but the shadows cast on his back from the side table lamp at this angle just reinforced the belief angelo had that ryan was truly sculpted by someone otherworldly. his movements were stiff, as if he hadn’t moved for a long time… but he was still agile and moved with purpose despite the discomfort in his joints.
“i am.” ryan responded quite late, “grab me a beer from the fridge while you’re in here, please.” his voice monotonous and scratchy. angelo sucked his teeth, obliging and following him out of the room. ryan went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him hastily like a teenage boy. angelo stopped and turned, quickly stopping himself from saying a word and walked through the silent, quickly darkening room and over to the refrigerator.
he opened it up and was immediately saddened; this kid had half a carton of eggs, two loaves of cold wheat bread, some lunch meat that seemed to be untouched, condiments that had been there for who knows how long and a 24 pack of miller lite. he sighed hard, bending down and grabbing a beer for ryan and himself from the very sloppily and drunkenly torn cardboard case.
he went back to ryan’s room and set himself on the bed in waits for the boy. three minutes in, he cracks his beer open and accepts that this is gonna be a waiting game. at six minutes, angelo’s bouncing leg stopped and he got up from the bed. he stomped over to the bathroom and pounded on the door.
“hurry the fuck up, ryan.” he spoke loud and steady, itching to get the fuck out of this cigarette and sweat stained house. an exasperated, dramatic teenage groan was audible through the door, and ryan ripped it open with a scowl.
“give me. a fucking. minute, angelo,” he spat, snapping his eyes down at the unopened beer in his hand, “and my shit.” he leaned in and snatched the beer from angelo’s hand, stepping back in and slamming the door before angelo could get a word in.
angelo huffed, genuinely taken aback at ryan’s snappiness and gall to speak to him that way.
“you——” angelo was abruptly cut off by a loud groan, followed by “dude, gimmie five fuckin’ more minutes!” ryan yelled through the door, his voice still hoarse and dry.
angelo sighed deeply, frustrated. he walked back into ryan’s bedroom, grabbing his keys and phone once again. he was sick of sitting around and breathing in stale cigarette air, he was ready for this kid to get the fuck out of the bathroom and get out of this shithole. his patience was already starting to run thin, so he just did his best to put it aside and realize he’s getting this kid out of the house, and that’s all he had to do.
he sat there in thought a little longer, looking around and thinking, ‘everyone has been asking about you, ryan… what the fuck is going on with you?’
he huffed and propped himself on his arms at the kitchen counter, and decided to text his brother. if ryan could lie, so could he.
angelo: I’m making sure your friend
angelo: and he fully knew i was
coming . mf passed out after he
got out the shower and read my shi .
angelo: i’m getting him outta this nasty
ass house bro . he got clothes every fucking
where , cigarettes on every fuckin surface
and i bet he cant even tell me whats in
his fridge or washing machine.
he was face down listening to some sad
bullshit and i think hes been crying since
doing what none of u foos have decided to
do for someone you talk about caring so
angelo: cuz you have been in every other
fuckin place you could be and even when
yall back u dont go actually try and
roman: i did try to check to on him
angelo you don’t even know what
i’ve tried to fucking do for him.
roman: i went to his house like last
week to see if he was even there.
door was locked, i knocked and
waited but he didn’t come. he
wasn’t answering me or nate
when we called or texted him. i genuinely
had no idea it was this bad angelo, if i
did, i would have done somethjng
sooner and you know that for a fucking fact.
i didn’t wanna just bust in his fuckin
crib if he was fr goin through smth crazy,
i did all i knew to do from the times hes done
this shit in the past. but please believe me that
i tried and so did nate hollis and camille esp.
roman: please make sure that he is okay and
gets home safe and tell him to call me
even if i told him not to. i promise, i
didn’t leave him behind or forget
about him. i’ve been fucking aching
and worried for him for so long dude,
ivs just been scared to see him cuz i
didn’t know what would happen idk
bro I’m just so fucking glad he’s ALIVE.
thank you for doing this angelo
it seriously means so much to
angelo: well how tf am i supposed to know if
you dont tell me ? i dont talk to you or your
friends anymore , ur the only way i ever hear
about any of this shit any more roman . if you
don’t tell me , how am i supposed to know if you
did or not ? regardless , i know you love
him and you want to get in contact even if hes
ghosting u , but if you dont actually TRY nothing
is gonna work . im not blaming u or yelling at u ,
im just telling you that if you really wanna help
him , you need to actually act on it and put in
the effort to actually have a change happen.
but hes alive and being an asshole so hes
im gonna do it if you foos got too much to do .
angelo: and you n me are going to
have a talk tomorrow btw .
roman: but please keep him safe angelo
roman: make him feel better bro please
roman: ineed him to be oksy
angelo: on god i will roman dont worry
angelo: ill call you later
angelo: breathe rome hes fine , hes wit me
angelo: i love you go to bed early
cuz imma be there at 7 tomorrow
he huffed as he sent his last message. he knew roman had tried, but he also knew roman was really scared of overstepping and losing ryan. at the same time, he was truly more scared of understepping and losing ryan in a worse way.
angelo was oh-so unkindly ripped out of his thoughts by the bathroom door swinging open and ryan stomping out in a green camo shirt that used to belong to roman, regular blue jeans and… velcro sneakers? what the fuck is wrong with this kid? he was obviously still tired, his light eyes glassy and slightly flushed from him probably crying before angelo arrived and he stumbled like he’d been laying in bed for days. his eyelids were low and he had an unwilling expression pinned to his face.
“where, uhhm— w-where’re we going…? what’re… wh-t’re.. we doin…?” ryan mumbled, shutting his eyes tight and running his hands over his face and up through his hair as he tried to ground himself. he stood atop clothes strewn across the floor, his own sloppily and quickly put on — odd for how long he spent in that bathroom, but he was out now so… whatever.
“anywhere but here. you gotta get out, foo, this place is just making you sick. i got bud but i do wanna run by my boys place for a bag. i’m fuckin hungry an’ ion believe you’ve eaten real food inna long ass time, so we should get some food and prolly just chill. truly, i’m jus’ here to get you outta this house and back into society, somehow.” angelo responded, exasperated as his arms crossed and leg bounced against the wall. he was trying his hardest to make it look like he was aching to leave, because he was, he was not ready to stand here and chat for 15 more minutes in a depressed frat boy haven.
ryan sighed, dropping his hands dramatically to his sides and shrugging his shoulders, “huhh… yeah. yeah whatever, let’s go.” he snatched a water bottle and his wallet from the counter and turned on his heel towards the door, pausing and motioning for angelo to walk ahead of him with a stupid swing of his hands, topped with an unnecessarily dramatic sigh.
angelo scoffed and shook his head as he walked to the door, pulling it open and letting ry and walk out of it at his own pace. angelo walked quickly to his car across the street, swing his door open and slammed it shut. he sat in the drivers seat with his head back and eyes closed, breathing deep as to not freak out because of how frustrated ryan and his brother were making him. but, he let his breath fall smoothly from his mouth. ryan was struggling and angelo, in a way, invited himself over, walked right in and dragged him out of the house… he couldn’t really blame him for that. if someone did that to him, he’d flip his shit.
hearing the crunch of ryan’s shoes on gravel, he breathed in deep through his nose and sighed hard again as the boy walked around the back of the car and opened the door.
he sat down and turned to angelo, the sun hitting his face a bit and illuminating his skin. despite his recent struggles, it looked great. light freckles and soft acne scars spotted his face like constellations, bright stars adorning a dark, sad expression. his eyes remained glassy and low, but his irises were bright and beautiful. his face fell, somber and somewhat unreadable.
“—‘m sorry. ‘m not… i—i—i am… not great. —i, i don’t mean to be such an asshole. i’m— ion know, man. i’m sorry...” ryan shifted awkwardly in the passenger seat as he spoke; he knew he’d been an asshole, and that was uncool of him regardless of if he felt like shit or not. angelo smiled softly, he truly appreciated the fact that despite ryan being in such a shitty place, he still had the ability to apologize for his actions.
“man, listen. i know you’re goin’ through some shit right now, i woulda done the same shit if you did that to me. i-i mean— i low—mm. hhm. yeah, i low-key did kinda just walk up in your place on my own…” angelo turned himself to fully face ryan in the passenger seat, looking at ryan’s eyes even if they didn’t meet his own, “i shoulda called you before i just came in and made you get up and leave. ha, you— you kinda have a right to be a dick to me. don’t worry about it, ryan.” angelo spoke softly, choosing his words carefully as he did. his inability to get the words in his brain out of his mouth correctly sometimes was showing up right now, every word he spoke sounded wrong.
ryan finally met his eyes and looked at him hard for a while. angelo couldn’t help but study his face a little as they sat in warm silence.
“well… i mean, th—thank you. i-i really did.. ahem, i did need to.. get out of my house. it’s—it’s just… so hard to go out and so easy to stay inside…” ryan spoke quietly, turning to stare out the wind shield as he did. his face was flushed and he spoke like he was admitting to something awful. it chipped angelo’s heart a bit, knowing that this kid could barely even talk about something so normal… he’d always been that way and it always made angelo think a bit too hard.
“yeah… yeah man, of course. none of your “friends” or whatever decided to come do it, and you’re my family, ry. i’m not just gonna let you waste away. you deserve to have someone realize you— that you’re not there, man. i wanna help you.” angelo continued in his hushed tone. at this point, he was honestly trying not to cry. it was apparent in his voice, whispered and very soft as to not speak loud enough to rattle his tear ducts.
ryan caught wind of it, noticing that angelo was chewing the side of his mouth harder than he normally would, a terrible nervous habit. he couldn’t handle people being upset, but god for-fucking-bid angelo start crying around and because of him… he’d have to somehow explode his own brain in that passenger seat.
“ahem.. if you rea-a-lly wanna help… you can get me high and get me food.” ryan stated softly, but still clearly with a tint of humour. it was unavoidable, the humour and the slight smile that he couldn’t quite force down. angelo blinked, bringing himself back to the present. he huffed a laugh, turning forward and pressing the button.
the car rumbled on, and angelo turned to look at ryan again, catching him in the perfect moment. he was reaching behind him, aware roman and angelo both always kept two bottles of water in the back of the passenger seat. his arms were much more toned and muscular when in use, as well as slightly more tan than his back was. as he wiggled and moved around, the sun caught his skin once again. angelo really didn’t understand why his eyes wouldn’t move from ryan —— until he finally got the bottle and pulled it up,
“unopened,” he said, cocking his head slightly and shaking the bottle as he spoke, “not really sure mine’s actually water, ha.” angelo scoffed with a smile and shifted into drive, setting them off towards whatever shitty food they’d decide on.
angelo and ryan both reach out for the stereo controls, yet angelo slapped his hand quickly to turn the sound down before ryan could touch. his hand paused, slightly confused for a second as angelo fiddled with the sound dial. his eyes strayed on the road as he grabbed the cord and handed it to ryan.
“my shit was blasting, ion need no loud shit right now.” angelo spoke stronger this time, a smile still tugging on his pretty lips, and ryan couldn’t help but grin to himself at angelo’s odd way of showing his love.
“mm, yeah neither do i, th-s’ const-nt headache needs no more fuel, ma-a-n….” ryan spoke again, setting his elbow on the window and leaning his head in his hands. he scrolled on his phone a bit, finding some soft music to just have on in the background.
music softly flowed from the speakers and mixed with the stuffy warm air of the car; the scent of a shower and smoke and some nice cologne angelo had… the hum of road beneath the tires and the slight drumming of angelo’s fingertips on the steering wheel to the beat of gentle quiet music… the warm orange light that filtered in through the tinted windows and the palm trees and buildings they passed by…. ryan realizes that maybe this was what he needed. he needed someone to kick start him, someone to give him the motivation he tried so hard to attain…
he glanced over at angelo, content in the drivers seat with a signature unreadable expression;
of course it would be him. of course angelo, the closest thing any of them would ever get to a real angel and got him up when he needed it most. ‘cause today, today was really fucking hard. because of those long gone emails and snail mail from people you really don’t wanna talk to… and living inside of your own brain, literally and figuratively.
but now he was out. his stomach turned a little, but he felt okay. he stared out the window, smiling sadly as he recognized the beat angelo was tapping. maybe it would be okay. maybe this would give him that kick he needed to call roman and… everyone else.
“the clouds look fake today.” he muttered, staring out the window at the dim world passing them by.
“hmm?” angelo hummed softly in response.
“m—nothin.” ryan said softly, not moving his face from his hand to look at angelo. the older just hummed an acknowledgment and shrugged, continuing down the 110 to get some grub.
to be continued, thank you.
