Work Text:
Naim felt the rust digging into his palm as he made his way up the ladder. Pushing himself up on the rooftop, he could feel the warmth radiating from the concrete under his hands and knees. The sun was just setting, its soft glow on the horizon casting the two boys in dim orange light. Ryan was already standing on the rooftop, having been the first one to get up there, swiftly wiping the dust from his clothes before finally sitting down on the warm concrete. Leaning back on his palms, one knee bent, the other foot almost dangling off the edge of the roof, he watched, head tilted slightly, as Naim took his place beside him.
Settling down, Naim took in their surroundings. Even though they weren't too far up from the street, somehow everything felt calmer, more quiet. The noises from below didn't quite reach them up here, everything was somehow dulled, less sharp. Occasionally, they could hear cars passing and dogs barking, but other than that, the streets were quiet, making their little hideaway that much more peaceful.
Their view was partially obstructed by the tall, voluminous evergreen growing in the front yard, but Naim was glad for the privacy it granted them, further isolating them from the streets below. Although, being this high up meant barely any passerby would notice them, as long as they didn't stop in their tracks to directly glance up at the two boys sprawled out on the rooftop.
They haven't spoken since they made their way up here, the silence between them a calm presence. It was one of the things Naim loved about being with Ryan — not having to worry about constantly keeping conversation flowing. Rather than being something to fix, the silence was just that, a comfortable abscence of noise.
Sitting up, Ryan started fishing around in his jean pocket, presumably looking for the pack of cigarettes he kept on him at all times. Opening the small paper box he shook out a piece and placed it between his lips, reaching for his lighter. Naim watched him with a wonder in his eyes he wasn't quite able to hide. Ryan's silver rings glinted in the glow of the lighter, his slender fingers curling around the metal while he waited for the cigarette to catch fire.
He was a sight to behold, blond curls falling onto his face, lips closed around the rolled paper. If Naim weren't so mesmerised by him, he'd say the sheer concentration in his eyes was almost comical. Satisfied, Ryan finally closed the lighter with a sharp click, putting it back in his pocket. He inhaled the smoke, closing his eyes in bliss with his head thrown back. The motion put his throat on full display and Naim couldn't find it in himself to look away.
After keeping the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds, Ryan finally exhaled, slow and lazy, opening his eyes to look at Naim from below his lashes. There was a glint of something in his eyes that Naim couldn't quite place. Curiosity, maybe, or mischief. He looked so young and full of life like this, illuminated only by the soft afterglow of the sunset and the ember of the cigarette between his lips. Naim was suddenly hit with the urge to taste him, to feel his lips against his own. Would they feel warm and soft? Would he let him? God, he hoped he would.
Ryan, seemingly taking Naim's staring as a sign of the brunette boy wanting a drag of his cigarette, raised his hands to his own lips. Holding the piece between his fingers he reached across and offered it to Naim, who took it, letting his fingers brush briefly against the other boy's. He felt Ryan's fingers twitch subtly at the contact, and as he raised the cigarette to his lips, he could feel a slight tremble in his own hands as well. Taking a drag and letting the smoke burn his lungs, he raised his eyes to gaze out at the steadily darkening sky.
"So..." Ryan started, dragging out the word, "any changes lately? Still hate this fucking shithole of a town?"
He was repeating Naim's words verbatim from a few nights back, when they were talking about how he was getting used to his new home, or rather, place of residence. Naim didn't really think he would ever be able to call Bandee his home.
"More or less, yeah." Naim chuckled, his voice carrying little humour. He still resented this place, but... "I'm starting to get used to it, though. I think I've managed to find a couple things I like here."
"Oh, have you now?" Ryan asked, and Naim could hear the smirk in his voice. Even without opening his eyes he could picture the blond boy's smug expression.
Well, two can play this game.
"You know," Naim started, struggling to keep his voice serious, "just to name a few, I really like the local church. The community is just so welcoming. I can feel God's love enveloping me everywhere I go."
"Oh fuck off!" Ryan laughed, short and sharp, shoving Naim playfully and leaning over him to take the cigarette back into his hand, "I'm sick of the bullshit they say every week. I feel like I'm the only sane person around here. It's fucking exhausting."
"Oi, don't forget about me!" Naim feigned offense, "I hardly believe a word they say. My mother, she keeps telling me this community makes her feel closer to God, or whatever. I dunno, I just feel like an outsider here." And everywhere, to be honest.
"You know," Ryan started tentatively, scratching his nose, "I'm quite glad you moved here. Even though you hate this place. It's selfish of me, I know, but..." he searched for the right words, "I don't know. I feel less alone, I guess." He couldn't quite meet Naim's eyes, which was unlike him, all cocky and confident. He was so different when they were alone like this, nothing like his loud, bold school persona. He was softer, gentler somehow, around Naim, or at least that's what Naim liked to think.
"I feel like that around you too. Less alone, I mean." The admission felt heavy on his tongue. His gaze lifted to Ryan's mouth and he watched as the other boy exhaled another breath of smoke from his lungs. It curled around them as it lifted to cover the blond boy's curls in a hazy fog. God, he was beautiful.
"So..." Ryan started, smiling that knowing half-smile that had Naim's stomach flip, "You still mean what you said earlier?"
"About what?" Naim asked, completely dazed. The concrete was warming their bodies from below, the sun barely a whisper on the horizon, the dizzying feeling in his head too strong to be coming from the nicotine he'd inhaled.
"You said, last time," Ryan started slowly, eyes on Naim's, "that there's nothing you like about this place."
"Oh." Naim exhaled softly. Right. He felt himself lose composure, eyes darting back down to Ryan's lips more and more often, the urge to feel them against his own getting stronger with each passing second. And he was so close, God. When did they move this close to each other? If he just leaned a tad bit closer...
"That still true?" Ryan asked quietly, with a hint of amusement in his voice and a glint in his eyes that wasn't quite there before, "There's really nothing you like about this place?"
Naim felt himself lean impossibly closer, as if drawn in by an invisible force, and his next inhale was shaky as he responded with a lie barely above a whisper, "Nothing."
He wouldn't be able to say which one of them leaned in sooner. It felt inevitable for them to meet in the middle, and suddenly his lips were on Ryan's, warm and soft, just like he'd imagined. His lips moved, tentatively at first, testing the waters. It was all so new and so good, he didn't know what to do with himself, how to stop wanting it. Maybe he didn't have to. Maybe he could just have it, if Ryan let him.
He felt the other boy gasp softly into the kiss, seemingly in surprise and Naim pulled away just an inch, eyes meeting Ryan's. He looked just as affected as Naim felt, his expression dazed. The surprise that had flickered in his eyes was gone, replaced by pure adoration and need.
Their lips crashed together once again, with more fervor this time, hands coming up to grasp at each other hungrily, pulling the other impossibly closer. Naim's hand came up to grab Ryan's bicep, the other finding its way into blond curls. Naim felt hands caressing his jaw and neck, angling his face in the right direction and he let his lips part, allowing Ryan to deepen the kiss. The soft whimper that escaped Naim's throat would have been embarassing if he had any braincells left to care. Ryan tasted of cigarettes and sin, and Naim drank him up, paying no regard to the voice in his head that kept chanting, "This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong." The voice sounded a bit too much like his mother, and Naim ignored it, kept taking more and more and allowing Ryan to take just as much from him.
When they finally pulled apart, breaths uneven and hands trembling, he couldn't help but grin in awe as he rested his forehead against Ryan's shoulder, hiding his face in the other boy's neck and breathing deeply. He just kissed another boy. This was supposed to feel wrong, so why did it not? He felt Ryan's hand caressing his hair and nape. Lifting his his head, he was met with light eyes sparkling with admiration and a grin so smug and confident he couldn't help but feel the urge to kiss it off him.
"Still nothing?" Ryan asked in that tone of his, audible smirk in his voice and Naim just had to shove him for it. And kiss him for it, maybe, as well.
They ended up laying on their backs on the slowly cooling rooftop until there was no trace of the sun on the horizon, the starry darkness of the summer night enveloping them like a blanket. Ryan retrieved the cigarette, forgotten somewhere beside them while they were both too lost in each other to care about fire safety. It was almost fully burnt down now, but they cherished the last few drags, sharing the smoky air between them like a secret too precious to be spoken out loud.