"Finding Me and You" Chapter 3
And here's Chapter 3.
:WARNING: THIS FIC IS FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH ANGST (so far that is) IF YOU DO NOT LIKE ANGST, DO NOT READ.
Title: Finding Me and You
Pairings: Dugera, somewhat Bam/Jenn (hinted)
Rating: PG 13 right now...it will escalate later on
Warnings: Suicide Attempt, angst, swearing, eventually sex
Author's Notes: In this fic the POV switches from Bam to Ryan. I have let you know when that happens so you wont get confused ;)
Disclaimer: I dont own these guys. Simple as that. All I own are my words and own twisted thoughts.
CHAPTER 3
(Bam) I wake up, and I’m in your arms. My body tenses up, and I don’t know if I crawled into your arms, or if you pulled me in. Your soft and steady breath against my neck relaxes me a bit, and I sink contentedly into your hold. My stomach rumbles with hunger, but I don’t want to move. I don’t move any part of me, because I don’t want to wake you. I don’t want to break this moment because it’ll probably never happen again. You’re letting me off easy, and I know it. Any weird and fucked thing I do right now you’d just dismiss as ‘me trying to get over what happened’. But Ry, I don’t think this is new. I think, maybe, this has been here for a while, and we didn’t know it. Maybe we didn’t want to know. Maybe I’m just losing my mind. Whatever.
I feel you shift and breathe like your waking up, and my heart stops. What will I do? How will you react if you find me in your arms? I think of closing my eyes, pretending to sleep, letting you deal with it. If you think I’m asleep, you’ll just embarrassingly toss me aside, and get up to have breakfast and forget all of this ever happened. But when my eyes look up to find your face, I find your eyes looking back down at me.
I see a brief look of astonishment, maybe embarrassment, but no anger. No disgust. Still, I cant breathe. I cant breathe until you say something.
“…Morning.” Is all you say.
For the first time since a few nights ago, a smile cracks my face, and even if it’s short-lived, it makes you chuckle. I hear myself laugh a little, too, but it doesn’t sound right. I still sound so sickly and weak, and I’m not weak, goddamn it.
For the first time when it comes to relationships, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what this means, Ryan. I don’t know…
“How…are you?” You ask.
“…Okay.” I pull away, because suddenly, things get really uncomfortable. I feel like such a fucking fag, and your face is so fucking hard to read that I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking of me right now. I guess, no matter what changes about me, or how I feel about things, or what happens, its just best for me to continue being ‘Bam the asshole’.
“Dude…don’t be gay.” I say quietly, and I can’t look at you. You think that I like to hurt you, but I don’t, you dumb ass. You think I enjoy saying these things, and watching the pain develop in your eyes. Truth is, I hate saying these things too you just as much as you hate it. It rips me up…
I jump out of the bed and without looking at you, head downstairs to find something to eat.
~
(Ryan) Well, now everything is ‘back to normal’. Everyone wants to forget about what happened, so it seems like everyone has. I know that everyone is still thinking about it though. Now, you’re you. But you’re not you. I seem to be the only one that can tell there is something different behind those blue eyes. Something cold and hard that wasn’t there before. Something distant. I watch you now as you skate outside. It’s cold and frigid out because fall is approaching fast. Fall always seems to depress me somehow.
You seem so trapped in your own little world, skating back and forth on the half pipe. Usually, people are out there skating with you, but not this time. I look down and realize I have another beer in my hand. When had the one that I drank this morning turned to two? When had that second one turned to three, then four? Ever since the whole incident with you, I’ve really picked up on the drinking.
The words that you said to me replay over and over in my head. “Dude, don’t be gay.” I guess that is just what I am. I’m nothing but a fucking queer. I should have never taken the chance to let my guard down with you…
Suddenly, I see you fall in what seems like mid air, and you just lie there on the ground. Before I know it I have pushed open the back door, raced across the yard, and joined your side on the half pipe. “Bam? You okay?” I try to catch my breath.
You just nod. When I offer a hand to help you up, you don’t take it. You’re disgusted with me. You can’t touch me cause…I’m a fucking queer. The words pulse through me, tearing me apart. My heart feels wrenched in your fist like you’re trying to squeeze the life out of me, but your back is turned to me.
“I’m fine,” is all you mumble over your shoulder, and with that you grab your skateboard and leave me by myself, alone. Swaying in the harsh autumn wind.
~
(Bam) Damn. I am nothing but an asshole. How could I treat you like that Ryan? How could I have ever treated you like that? The look on your face…god, it’s so awful to me. Every time that I see that look of hurt and betrayal I just want to grab you and hug you and tell you I don’t mean it. Tell you I love you. I can’t though, Ry. If I let my guard down…If I let you get to close to me then you might see what I’m feeling. These feelings are scary. All the touching, and closeness, and the innocent little kiss at the hospital even, it all scares me. What does it mean? What did you mean when you did those things? What does it mean that I liked it? I don’t know what it means, but I know I feel like one sick fuck. If only I had never thought about how much you meant to me…if only I could forget. If only…that night had been fatal.
It’s sick, but it’s true. I’d rather be dead then continue to live everyday hurting you like this.
I’m so deep in thought; I don’t even see you enter the room. You didn’t even say hello. When I look over, I see you reach in the fridge for another beer. You won’t even look at me. Hell, why would you want to look at me? I’m nothing but a sick fuck. I watch you twist up the tab till the can pops open, and it almost seems like you’re trying your hardest not to look at me. My stomach turns.
“Ry…” I whisper so quietly, I’m not sure if I actually said it or thought it. But you look up at me. “Ry…I’m sorry that I…” Jesus, I don’t want to hurt you baby, but I don’t want to let you in.
The can lingers in your hand as you await what I’m going to say. As usual, your face is unreadable. I feel like I’m stepping into unknown territory, blind-folded. I don’t know which way to go, or what to do, or how to act, but I know I have to take a step somewhere. I have to say something…
You take a drink of your beer, patient as always.
“I’m sorry that I…am such an asshole.” The words barely come out, but I know you heard them. I hope you can see the sincerity in my face. Now, it’s your turn to speak, and I’m dying inside.
The beer is set down on the counter, and forgotten. It relieves me to see you put down the can. You step closer to me, taking a seat beside me.
“You are not an asshole.” You say it, but you still wont look at me. How can I believe that if you can’t even look at me?
“Goddamn it Ryan, come on. I’m no pussy, I can take it. I know I’ve been an asshole lately…especially to you. For once, don’t sugarcoat things.” My head drops, and I realize I can’t look at you either.
You’re silent. So silent, it kills me. It proves to me that I was right. I take a deep breath, and it feels like my heart has plummeted to my gut. To my surprise, I can feel your body inching closer to mine as your seat screeches across the floor.
“Bam…”I can feel your eyes on me…burning a hole through me. If I look up, I might go blind. “Bam, you are NOT an asshole.” Your eyes are on me, your body is so close to mine. My neck feels hot, and I hope that I wont start crying like a pussy.
“Come on Dunn,” I try to laugh, but it sounds empty. “You were the one that called me an asshole.” My whole body feels uncomfortably hot now, like the air is too thick to breathe.
“Look, Bam,” you pause, “That day…what I said. I was just mad. That’s all. I don’t really think you’re an asshole. In fact, I really…”
My heart stops. Say it. Just say it. Whatever it is, I can take it.
But all you do is sigh, signaling that you have given up in the battle against words. You can’t lie to me.
This is all too much for me. The closeness, the words, the truth. Everything. I can’t take it, and I need to leave. I sit up without looking at you, and grab my sweatshirt on the coat rack. Then, I’m out the door and walking to God knows where…
TO BE CONTINUED
have anything to say? well then, say it!
:WARNING: THIS FIC IS FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH ANGST (so far that is) IF YOU DO NOT LIKE ANGST, DO NOT READ.
Title: Finding Me and You
Pairings: Dugera, somewhat Bam/Jenn (hinted)
Rating: PG 13 right now...it will escalate later on
Warnings: Suicide Attempt, angst, swearing, eventually sex
Author's Notes: In this fic the POV switches from Bam to Ryan. I have let you know when that happens so you wont get confused ;)
Disclaimer: I dont own these guys. Simple as that. All I own are my words and own twisted thoughts.
CHAPTER 3
(Bam) I wake up, and I’m in your arms. My body tenses up, and I don’t know if I crawled into your arms, or if you pulled me in. Your soft and steady breath against my neck relaxes me a bit, and I sink contentedly into your hold. My stomach rumbles with hunger, but I don’t want to move. I don’t move any part of me, because I don’t want to wake you. I don’t want to break this moment because it’ll probably never happen again. You’re letting me off easy, and I know it. Any weird and fucked thing I do right now you’d just dismiss as ‘me trying to get over what happened’. But Ry, I don’t think this is new. I think, maybe, this has been here for a while, and we didn’t know it. Maybe we didn’t want to know. Maybe I’m just losing my mind. Whatever.
I feel you shift and breathe like your waking up, and my heart stops. What will I do? How will you react if you find me in your arms? I think of closing my eyes, pretending to sleep, letting you deal with it. If you think I’m asleep, you’ll just embarrassingly toss me aside, and get up to have breakfast and forget all of this ever happened. But when my eyes look up to find your face, I find your eyes looking back down at me.
I see a brief look of astonishment, maybe embarrassment, but no anger. No disgust. Still, I cant breathe. I cant breathe until you say something.
“…Morning.” Is all you say.
For the first time since a few nights ago, a smile cracks my face, and even if it’s short-lived, it makes you chuckle. I hear myself laugh a little, too, but it doesn’t sound right. I still sound so sickly and weak, and I’m not weak, goddamn it.
For the first time when it comes to relationships, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what this means, Ryan. I don’t know…
“How…are you?” You ask.
“…Okay.” I pull away, because suddenly, things get really uncomfortable. I feel like such a fucking fag, and your face is so fucking hard to read that I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking of me right now. I guess, no matter what changes about me, or how I feel about things, or what happens, its just best for me to continue being ‘Bam the asshole’.
“Dude…don’t be gay.” I say quietly, and I can’t look at you. You think that I like to hurt you, but I don’t, you dumb ass. You think I enjoy saying these things, and watching the pain develop in your eyes. Truth is, I hate saying these things too you just as much as you hate it. It rips me up…
I jump out of the bed and without looking at you, head downstairs to find something to eat.
~
(Ryan) Well, now everything is ‘back to normal’. Everyone wants to forget about what happened, so it seems like everyone has. I know that everyone is still thinking about it though. Now, you’re you. But you’re not you. I seem to be the only one that can tell there is something different behind those blue eyes. Something cold and hard that wasn’t there before. Something distant. I watch you now as you skate outside. It’s cold and frigid out because fall is approaching fast. Fall always seems to depress me somehow.
You seem so trapped in your own little world, skating back and forth on the half pipe. Usually, people are out there skating with you, but not this time. I look down and realize I have another beer in my hand. When had the one that I drank this morning turned to two? When had that second one turned to three, then four? Ever since the whole incident with you, I’ve really picked up on the drinking.
The words that you said to me replay over and over in my head. “Dude, don’t be gay.” I guess that is just what I am. I’m nothing but a fucking queer. I should have never taken the chance to let my guard down with you…
Suddenly, I see you fall in what seems like mid air, and you just lie there on the ground. Before I know it I have pushed open the back door, raced across the yard, and joined your side on the half pipe. “Bam? You okay?” I try to catch my breath.
You just nod. When I offer a hand to help you up, you don’t take it. You’re disgusted with me. You can’t touch me cause…I’m a fucking queer. The words pulse through me, tearing me apart. My heart feels wrenched in your fist like you’re trying to squeeze the life out of me, but your back is turned to me.
“I’m fine,” is all you mumble over your shoulder, and with that you grab your skateboard and leave me by myself, alone. Swaying in the harsh autumn wind.
~
(Bam) Damn. I am nothing but an asshole. How could I treat you like that Ryan? How could I have ever treated you like that? The look on your face…god, it’s so awful to me. Every time that I see that look of hurt and betrayal I just want to grab you and hug you and tell you I don’t mean it. Tell you I love you. I can’t though, Ry. If I let my guard down…If I let you get to close to me then you might see what I’m feeling. These feelings are scary. All the touching, and closeness, and the innocent little kiss at the hospital even, it all scares me. What does it mean? What did you mean when you did those things? What does it mean that I liked it? I don’t know what it means, but I know I feel like one sick fuck. If only I had never thought about how much you meant to me…if only I could forget. If only…that night had been fatal.
It’s sick, but it’s true. I’d rather be dead then continue to live everyday hurting you like this.
I’m so deep in thought; I don’t even see you enter the room. You didn’t even say hello. When I look over, I see you reach in the fridge for another beer. You won’t even look at me. Hell, why would you want to look at me? I’m nothing but a sick fuck. I watch you twist up the tab till the can pops open, and it almost seems like you’re trying your hardest not to look at me. My stomach turns.
“Ry…” I whisper so quietly, I’m not sure if I actually said it or thought it. But you look up at me. “Ry…I’m sorry that I…” Jesus, I don’t want to hurt you baby, but I don’t want to let you in.
The can lingers in your hand as you await what I’m going to say. As usual, your face is unreadable. I feel like I’m stepping into unknown territory, blind-folded. I don’t know which way to go, or what to do, or how to act, but I know I have to take a step somewhere. I have to say something…
You take a drink of your beer, patient as always.
“I’m sorry that I…am such an asshole.” The words barely come out, but I know you heard them. I hope you can see the sincerity in my face. Now, it’s your turn to speak, and I’m dying inside.
The beer is set down on the counter, and forgotten. It relieves me to see you put down the can. You step closer to me, taking a seat beside me.
“You are not an asshole.” You say it, but you still wont look at me. How can I believe that if you can’t even look at me?
“Goddamn it Ryan, come on. I’m no pussy, I can take it. I know I’ve been an asshole lately…especially to you. For once, don’t sugarcoat things.” My head drops, and I realize I can’t look at you either.
You’re silent. So silent, it kills me. It proves to me that I was right. I take a deep breath, and it feels like my heart has plummeted to my gut. To my surprise, I can feel your body inching closer to mine as your seat screeches across the floor.
“Bam…”I can feel your eyes on me…burning a hole through me. If I look up, I might go blind. “Bam, you are NOT an asshole.” Your eyes are on me, your body is so close to mine. My neck feels hot, and I hope that I wont start crying like a pussy.
“Come on Dunn,” I try to laugh, but it sounds empty. “You were the one that called me an asshole.” My whole body feels uncomfortably hot now, like the air is too thick to breathe.
“Look, Bam,” you pause, “That day…what I said. I was just mad. That’s all. I don’t really think you’re an asshole. In fact, I really…”
My heart stops. Say it. Just say it. Whatever it is, I can take it.
But all you do is sigh, signaling that you have given up in the battle against words. You can’t lie to me.
This is all too much for me. The closeness, the words, the truth. Everything. I can’t take it, and I need to leave. I sit up without looking at you, and grab my sweatshirt on the coat rack. Then, I’m out the door and walking to God knows where…
TO BE CONTINUED
have anything to say? well then, say it!