Archive of Our Own

“Dude, is that thunder?”

Ryder looked up, sprawled across the bed, and frowned at the window. The rain was pouring, splashing up against the fogging panes of glass. Ryder shrugged. He hadn't heard anything, but the rain was a good indication that it was coming, if it wasn't already there.

“I didn't hear anything, but that--” Ryder was interrupted as a streak of lightning lit the sky outside, and a booming roll of thunder echoed seconds after it disappeared. “Yep. There's thunder, Jake.”

Jake didn't reply and Ryder glanced over to the desk in the corner of Jake's room, where Jake was hunched over the text book, head bowed.

“You okay?”

Jake muttered something low enough that Ryder didn't catch it.

“What?”

“I said, 'I hate thunder,'” Jake repeated, and he shuddered lightly. He glanced up, just the hint of pain across his face. “I used to get scared of it and hide in my mom's bed until she got home from work.”

It still weirded Ryder out when Jake admitted to a weakness. They'd been best friends since the year before, when the now-defunct Glee Club had brought them together. That didn't stop Ryder from remembering when Jake had used a mask of indifference with everyone except Marley.

“Wow, Jake Puckerman, admitting to a weakness.”

“Shut up, dude,” Jake rolled his eyes. “Don't make me regret telling you that.” Jake let out a soft sigh at another clap of thunder. “C'mon, man. Doesn't that freak you out, too?”

Ryder shook his head. “No, I like thunder. I love dancing in the pouring rain.”

“Isn't that a Faith Hill song?”

“No, but that song has rain in it.” Ryder sat up on the bed, glancing mischievously over at Jake, and lightly began to hum, before loudly belting out the words, “'You can kiss me in the moonlight, on the rooftop under the sky. Oh, you can kiss me with the windows open, while the rain comes pouring inside...'”

“Wow... I think I just lost all my sense of sound.” Jake shot Ryder a look, and Ryder pretended that he didn't see it. Jake was a spoilsport, and dang-it, if Ryder wasn't going to just ignore it. Jake always made a big deal out of any kind of singing that Ryder wanted to do these days. Ryder missed the Glee Club, and he knew Jake did, too. He hated how they had to have an excuse or reason to sing. Why couldn't they sing just to sing?

“You love it,” Ryder retorted, and Jake made a dismissive 'mhm' sound in response. Ryder flopped back onto the bed, and he stared up at the ceiling. “I'm bored,” he finally said, crossing his arms over his chest. Jake didn't reply, and Ryder glanced over at him. Jake was staring out the window, biting his lip, and watching the lightning explode across the sky. It was almost sad, the way that Jake cringed at every new flash of color lighting the sky. “Jake, seriously. You okay?”

“No,” Jake exhaled slowly, and stood up, crossing the room to the bed, and pushed at Ryder's leg, “Shove over.” Ryder didn't reply, and Jake added a soft, “Please.”

The please got Ryder sliding over, and Jake practically jumped onto his bed, burrowing down next to his friend.

“Comfy?” Ryder asked, voice laced with sarcasm. The thunder got Jake to reply with an affirmative “Yes!” and Ryder unconsciously shifted a little closer. Jake was warm, and Ryder wasn't stupid enough not to take advantage of free body heat. Jake let out another breath, and it washed gently over his face, causing Ryder to shiver. He wasn't sure how Jake got him to react like this. It wasn't an uncommon reaction. Sometimes the way Jake would look at him...

“What are you thinking about?”

“Why I love thunderstorms so—OW! Jake, come on!” Ryder rubbed his shoulder, turning his head to glare at Jake. The slug into his arm had come out of nowhere. Well, maybe Ryder deserved it. A little bit. A very little bit. But riling up Jake was so much fun! It was easy, and Jake fell for it every time, and when he did, Jake usually--

There, there it was. Jake leaned over, mashing their lips together, to stop the flow of thoughts before they'd even been formed. Ryder swallowed, kissing Jake back, a hand creeping up to fist into his t-shirt, yank him in even closer.

The kiss came to an end as fast as it had even started. Jake slowly pulled away, not looking at Ryder, and Ryder couldn't look at anything except Jake. It was the same push-and-pull that they did every time. They'd ignore it, Ryder would say something to get Jake going, and then Jake would kiss him. They'd go back to ignoring it, cycle starting all over again.

But maybe Ryder didn't want to ignore it this time.

“Jake--”

“Don't,” Jake said, voice deep and rough, and Ryder couldn't hold in the shiver at the sound, “Don't say anything. Please.”

The please almost had a begging quality to it, but Ryder ignored it. He couldn't ignore the kiss this time.

“I like kissing you,” he started, voice uncertain, his gaze not wavering from Jake's, “And I want to keep doing it, all the time.”

“Ryder--”

Ryder surged forward, kissing Jake hard, and Jake sprawled backwards on the bed, his arms flailing as Ryder kissed him. For several tense seconds, Jake did nothing. His mouth stayed completely still and Ryder wondered what was going to happen. But then Jake started kissing back, and his arms sliding around Ryder's shoulders, and he pulled him down on top of him. Ryder let Jake pull him down.

Ryder would do anything to stay right here.

After minutes (hours?) of kissing, Ryder slowly pulled away from him, absently licking his lips as he stared at Jake.

“So.”

“So, I like kissing you too,” Jake muttered, and turned his head away, closing his eyes, and softly exhaling. Ryder had no idea what was going to happen now, and part of him didn't care, as long as they could keep kissing.