Reblogged
Tidbit Tuesday Wednesday
I was tagged by @sofa-king-lame! Thank you! <3 And in continuing the trend of posting snippets of things I may never finish, have some of this Ryliver fic I write five sentences on once a month and then forget about.
“By the way,” Ryan says as he flops back down on the couch, a little closer than before, “did you hear Kenny roped Jen in on the bet thing?” “Uh, no.” Maybe he should go into hiding. They’ll find some way to write Buck off the show. It’ll be fine. “I swear, if they tell Peter or Angela about this…” “I’m pretty sure not even Kenny is dumb enough to bother Angela with sex bets.” Ryan shoots him a grin, but his cheeks are pink. He might be better than Oliver at pretending nonchalance, but his blood vessels always give him away. “Sex bets,” Oliver repeats, dragging one hand down his face. “It’s not really—I mean, it’s about us ‘hooking up’, right? What does ‘hooking up’ even mean? Like, if we—” He cuts himself off. Why does it matter? He’s not going to touch Ryan at all. Ever. Unless he has to, for the show or whatever. There’s no point in probing around the edges of something so completely irrelevant. All he has to do is not do anything for the next few months, and then he can collect a bunch of cash at the end of it and laugh in Kenny and Aisha’s face. And Jen’s now too, apparently. But unfortunately Ryan sees where he was going and picks up the thread. “It’s kind of just a vibe, I guess,” he says. “One kiss isn’t hooking up, but making out probably is.” Oliver huffs out a little laugh. “Handshake, no, handjob, yes?” He lifts his beer bottle to his mouth, smirks around it. As long as he can joke about it, it has no power over him, right? “Yeah,” Ryan agrees. “I can blow you a kiss, but I can’t, you know—” “Got it,” Oliver says a little too quickly. He stares hard at the TV, ignoring the sudden, strong impulse to look at Ryan’s mouth. With the mustache. How would it even feel, to get blown by someone with a—nope. No. He’s not thinking about it.
