The Boy With Bedroom Eyes. (For Jessita) Part Twenty-Two.

"Are you sure you should be drinking that?"

Ryan held his own drink, but watched as Max downed another. It hurt him; he'd seen his lover do this so many times. Max nodded, giving the boy a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"I'm gonna go give Ivana her... Present! I'll be right back!"

Max giggled softly and kissed Ryan, picking up a shot glass off the bar before walking off with a box in his other hand. Ryan sighed softly, sipping at his drink. Isabelle came over to steal Max's seat.

"I thought you were the bartender?"

She shrugged and pointed to the end of the bar. She'd already made all the drinks, all people had to do was grab them. And not knock the other ones over.

"Where's Max?"

Ryan told her where simply, and the girl nodded. She drank her beer. They watched people dance, talk, and drink.

Isabelle turned to him.

"Has he been going to see 'Bryan'?"

The girl was surprised, he hadn’t looked at her, and his big brown eyes still watched people move around the bar. She nodded.

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"He refuses to listen. But now that he has you, he wont have to go."

Ryan snorted, and drank more. He saw Max and Ivana laugh, walking up to the bar to grab another glass of something that would make this party more dangerous for Ryan. He sighed. Max was coming towards him; obviously more drunk and incoherent than before. All the same, he let Max practically fall against his chest as the boy giggled softly.

"Take me home, Ry?"

The boy looked at Max, and the other pulled away to place a wet kiss on his lips.

"Cause you love meee?"

Full lips tilted slightly in a smile, and Ryan nodded. He'd take Max home.

And now he knew- he could fight back if needed. Max wasn’t as invincible as he used to think. Ryan wasn’t the weak little victim anymore, months of being alone and hurt and broken absolutely killed him, and he wasn’t going to do it again. If anything, once Max started the abuse, Ryan would hit back.

He was no longer afraid.