Well, she's not bleeding on the ballroom floor

Just for the attention

'Cause that's just ridiculously odd

~~~

(1 ½ years later)

Ryan sat at the bar, nursing his whiskey. This was his first night off in over a week, so he decided he'd go out and try to have a good time. He wasn't completely thrilled with spending his time sitting at a bar waiting, but if he managed to see someone who caught his eyes, then maybe it'd be worth it.

The night dragged on and his second drink was already bruised. He was ready to throw in the towel and just go home. He paid for his drinks and started putting on his jacket when he heard some commotion on the dance floor.

Two men were shoving through the crowd, the taller clenching onto the shorter. Ryan froze when he took in the smaller man.. His hair was soaked with sweat and stuck to the sides of his face and forehead. His clothes hugged his body, accenting his slim figure. His face was scrunched in a grimace, plump lips frowning with discomfort. He was wobbling, supported by his aggressor.

Even in his weak state, Ryan could see how he was feebly trying to push the other away, an act easily missed to those not paying close enough attention. To everyone else, the man was drunk and only being handled by a friend by the way the taller held him close whenever the shorter would start to tip over.

Ryan found himself moving toward the scene as the crowd split for the pair. When close enough, Ryan saw the taller whisper into the other's ear, not being able to catch anything that was said. As the two moved passed him, Ryan caught a faint 'slut' from the aggressor.

"No," the shorter protested. "Let.. me go." His words were coming out faint and airy, almost impossible to hear if you weren't trying to catch the conversation.

"I think you should let him go," Ryan spoke up. His boldness surprised him. He was never one to interfere, but he could recognize the aggressor's intentions.

"Who are you?" The man glared at Ryan. It would've been intimidating to anyone that wasn't Ryan. They were both the same height and judging by the way the man struggled to keep the shorter man on his feet, Ryan was sure he had more muscle to take him need be.

"Let him go or I'll call the cops."

"For what?" Ryan was able to catch a hint of worry quickly flash over the man's eyes.

"I'm sure a simple blood test could prove that this man was drugged. And judging by your lack of confidence with how this would turn out, I'm sure you still have some leftover of whatever you used in an old plastic bag in your pocket in case you needed to try this again. I don't think the odds would be in your favor if I pointed that out to the police." The man growled and shoved the shorter man off him toward Ryan. He caught the man before he could tumble to the floor.

"Now, get the fuck out of here." The man glared once more before pushing his way to the exit. Ryan looked down at the man who was trying to push off him to stand steadily on his own feet. "Are you okay?" The man shook his head, swaying on his feet.

"Let's go get you something to drink." The man shook his head again and took a step back, almost falling back. Ryan moved forward and placed an arm around his waist to keep him balanced.

"No," the man mumbled.

"Just a drink of water." The man looked up at him, his brown eyes wide and scared. Ryan's breath hitched in his throat. He snapped his head away when he realized was was staring too long. He guided the other to the bar, ordering water.

"Do you have anyone here that can help you get you home?" The man shook his head. The bartender handed him the water which he gratefully took.

"He's with his girlfriend," he said after taking a drink. Ryan was curious as to who he was. Roommate? Friend? Boyfriend? "I'll be okay. Thanks." Ryan watched him, not really trusting to leave him alone.

"My name's Ryan." The man gave a small smile, giving Ryan the urge to see how it looked when it was full.

"Brendon," he responded before bringing the glass up to his lips again.

"Nice to meet you, Brendon." Ryan like the way the name tasted on his tongue. It was smooth and sweet. He briefly wondering how it would sound hearing Brendon say his name. He shook his head to keep his thoughts straight. He should be paying attention to how the man was feeling. "Are you sure you're okay?" Ryan asked when Brendon put the glass down, blinking rapidly and softly shaking his head.

"Yeah." Ryan frown when he noticed that Brendon was slightly shaking. "I'm f-" Before he could finish his sentence, Brendon fell over. Ryan quickly caught him, bringing them gently to the floor.

"Call an ambulance," he ordered to the bartender. He repositioned them so Brendon was laying between his legs, head resting on his thigh. He sighed in relief as Brendon let out a weak breath.

"Is he gonna be okay?" The bartender asked, phone pressed to his ear. Ryan pushed Brendon's hair out of his face. He was sure this was caused by whatever he took from that other guy.

"Yeah," Ryan answered. He ignored the small crowd that was forming around him. "You'll be alright," Ryan whispered to Brendon's unconsciously body. He stayed on the floor, waiting for the ambulance to take him back to the place he was hoping to stay away from until his next shift.

This certainly wasn't the way he thought his first night off would go, but he couldn't really complain too much. He did meet the handsomest man in his life. That was a plus.