GT one shots

🍺 pt. 2

Again, by UGHlashton 😉

_________

It seemed that the boy was just as surprised (more frightened than curious) as he winced deeply at Ryan's thundering footsteps.

Ryan placed his plate on his desk, unable to keep his eyes off the boy, who seemed frozen in terror.

He tried to backpedal only to wince deeply, his whole face distorting in discomfort. Ryan's eyes widened. "Oh shit. Wait one second, I'll-I'll be right back, don't go anywhere."

Racing out the door, he quickly headed to the kitchen to grab a spoon and some Tylenol, which in his opinion helped with the morning after being high. He didn't know how long the poor guy was in the heavily clouded room of smoked weed.

He also grabbed a glass, filling it with cold tap water before rushing upstairs in a hurry.

He opened the door, panting slightly as he returned to the bedside where the boy watched with fearful caution, wrapping the towel tighter around him.

Using the spoon, he crushed the Tylenol on his bedside table until it turned into a fine powder. Pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, he offered it to the teen, who's teal eyes widened in fear.

"Shh," he coaxed softly. "It'll help with your head. Might be a little bitter though."

Shaky hands approached the large digits before taking a pinch and urging it his mouth forcefully.

Ryan let out an amused snort as the boy's face crinkled with disgust.

"Rough night?" That earned him a scowl.

He filled up a spoonful of water before offering to the boy's pale lips. The boy sat up, only to blush deeply as the towel fell, revealing his pale torso. He quickly brought it back up and glowered at Ryan.

However, he drank his fill until what Ryan assumed that the taste was taken care of. Ryan felt the tips of his ears go red as the boy continued to glare, trying his best not to let his fear show.

"I swear I didn't peek, er, down there," he defended himself, feeling his palms grow sweaty. "It's just your clothes were soaked in beer and shit and your boxers were drenched in water from when I bathed you-No, not like that!" Ryan dragged a tired hand down his face as he watched the teen, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as Ryan colored. "I'm, uh. I'll just get your clothes."

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

He headed towards the washroom, leaving the spoon in the sink as he grabbed the clothes. They were dry, just a little cold.

"Here," Ryan said softly as he gave the clothes back to the smaller one. Sheepishly, the teen grabbed them, pulling his boxers on first. Ryan covered his eyes for a couple minutes before opening them.

He could feel tiny eyes scan his bare chest making Ryan feel small, as ironic as it was, and grab a shirt that was laying on the ground. It was a simple black pullover as he put in on before returning his attention to the boy.

"Hi," Ryan crouched in front of the boy, who fidgeted with his sleeves. "I'm Ryan."

"I-I know," the boy muttered softly, returning his gaze with a sad smile. Ryan gaped at the boy. His voice was simply endearing, so soft and high pitched, reminding him of the soft warbling of a bird. "I-I go to your school. Well, I-I used to. You're Ryan Mccoy, c-captain of the f-football t-team."