"Found it" was Ryan's curt explanation for where he'd gotten the necklace he'd tossed into Alonzo's lap, a small silver sun on a matching chain. "Thought it might be something you'd want" thrown over his shoulder as he set to work frowning over the already-separated laundry, moving an item of clothing to the other pile, then back again.
"Belongs to somebody, wouldn't you think?"
"Nah." Ryan suddenly abandoned the clothes and headed over to the mirror, shifting focus to messing with his hair. "Even if it did, finders-keepers."
"Mmm. Not so sure the rightful owner would agree."
An irritated sigh, fingers moving more quickly, aggressively. "What, you disapprove?"
"Of getting a knife in my throat, yes."
"You won't."
"How can you be so sure?"
Another sigh, all pretense of style adjustment lost as his hands fell to grip the edges of the sink. "It was in a drawer, alright? At the back, mixed in with a bunch of stuff. Nobody's going to miss it. Jesus." He turned away from the mirror and nimbly launched himself onto the top bunk, floor suddenly lava.
"A drawer," Alonzo repeated.
"Yeah."
"A drawer where?"
"Medical," was the belated response.
"Mmm." Alonzo loudly flipped a page of the magazine he'd stopped looking at in favor of the tiny sliver of mirror that reflected the side of Ryan's face. Waiting.
"I don't really wear jewelry," he broke the silence with.
"Your ears are pierced."
"Are they?" He flipped another page.
A hand flopped down, obscuring his view. "If you don't want it, give it back."
"Whatever for?"
"I'll put it back."
"In the drawer?"
No response, or none quick enough. Alonzo tutted.
"No need to go to all that trouble, sweetie. I'm sure I can find it a good home." He waited a beat. "Fiona, maybe." Flip.
The hand disappeared.
"It's interesting," Alonzo continued, "I saw the same necklace in a catalogue last week. One of the ones in the library magazine rack. You ever read those?"
"Nope."
"Pity." Creaking bedsprings as Ryan shifted above him, and he couldn't resist a smirk. "They have it gold, I believe."
"Huh."
"I do like gold."
A long pause, then finally, "They were out of gold," muttered so quietly Alonzo barely caught it.
"Ah."
"If you give it back, I can - "
"Put it in a drawer?"
"Return it or something. Maybe."
Alonzo flipped another page.
"It's not for Fiona," acid barely masking the hurt.
"She has enough shiny things," Alonzo agreed. He cocked his head, pretending to think. "Then again, so do I."
An aggressive flop, Ryan's face in the mirror replaced by the back of his head. Alonzo slid out from the bottom bunk.
"Ryan," he cooed, running a finger lightly down Ryan's arm. He lowered his voice. "I think the clasp is broken."
"Great," came the miserable reply. Alonzo rolled his eyes. "Maybe you should take a look," he suggested.
Ryan flopped back over and snatched the necklace dangling from Alonzo's fingertips without looking at him. "It's fine," he declared after a moment of inspection.
"Hm. Well, I can't seem to get it to work," and when Ryan finally met his gaze Alonzo blinked slowly at him, catlike. "You wanna help?"
Ryan shimmied closer and Alonzo shut his eyes, tilted his head down a touch - resisted the temptation to peek as he felt Ryan reach round his neck, the faint warmth of his face an inch away from Alonzo's, fingers fumbling at the clasp - resisted the temptation to reach up and hold him in place, turn slightly (hardly at all) and press his lips gently to Ryan's cheek, or time it better and kiss him properly when he pulled back.
No need to push the envelope. Not yet, anyway.
They'd made enough progress for one night.
All things come to those who wait.