Songs of Struggle. [Standalone.]
Title: Songs of Struggle. [Standalone.]
Author: causticmayhemx
Pairing: Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie.
Rating: R.
Word Count: 3838.
Summary: Brendon's blind, Ryan loves him, blah blah cliche and lame.
Disclaimer: This never happened.
A/N: I've been working on this for a while and I was so, so nervous because I had no idea how this was going to turn out. So I hope that you like it or...something. Also, the title credit goes to the film Amandla! It's about apartheid in South Africa and how songs inspired the people and "songs of struggle" was used to describe their music, so. Yes.
Songs of Struggle.
Ryan couldn't imagine how hard it must be for Brendon on a daily basis. He couldn't imagine what it was like to wake up and not see anything. He couldn't imagine never being able to see the sun rise or set and never experience the normal things that other people take for granted. He only told Spencer once just how much he admired Brendon. He would rarely bring it up. He never wanted to treat Brendon differently than Spencer, Jon, anyone, because that wasn't what Brendon wanted.
And Ryan only wanted to make him happy.
Brendon articulated quite often that he was fine, he was used to it, that it didn't affect him as much as it first did. Ryan wanted to believe him, but he kept thinking about how devastated he would be if he woke up one morning and couldn't see anything. Brendon often told him that it was something he got used to; he had grown up without ever being able to see anything--himself, his friends, his family. He had gotten accustomed to the fact that he would never know what he looked like, what his family looked like, what his friends looked like, where he grew up--anything.
Brendon couldn't miss what he never got to experience.
Ryan would often choose to sit next to Brendon wherever they were. If the four of them were watching a movie, Ryan wouldn't pay attention; he would just stare at Brendon out of the corner of his eye. He didn't know how Brendon could settle for just listening to a movie. He was glad, sometimes, that Brendon couldn't tell that he was staring at him. It made him feel less creepy for just watching his best friend all of the time. He couldn't help but think that Brendon was missing out on so much.
+
"What do you feel like for breakfast, Bren?" Ryan asked, holding Brendon's elbow as he scooted into the booth, following right after him.
Brendon shrugged, resting his hands on the table. "I don't know. Fruit? I think I'm in the mood for fruit."
"You think you are?" Ryan smiled.
Brendon laughed. "Yeah, I think I am. What do you want, guys?"
"Short stack," Ryan told him. "As always."
"I want an omelet," Spencer told him. "With, like. Tomatoes. And cheese."
Jon smiled. "Oh, man, that sounds really good."
"This place smells nice," Brendon commented. "Is there a candle on the table?"
"Yeah," Jon said.
"Vanilla. I like it."
Ryan looked over at him and smiled. He didn't ask how he knew--Brendon would just smile, shrug, and not answer. That was one more thing that Ryan loved about Brendon.
Brendon reached up and ran a hand over his hair. "My hair feels greasy."
"You should shower when we get back to the hotel," Ryan told him.
"Are you saying I look gross, Ryan Ross?" Brendon asked, looking in his general direction.
Ryan smiled and looked down, shaking his head. "No. I'm definitely not saying that."
Brendon smiled. "Okay, so, what's on the agenda for today?"
"Well, we have an interview this afternoon, and then a radio show to do. That's really it. We have tomorrow off so if you want to go sight-seeing--" Spencer cut himself off. "I mean--"
"It's okay," Brendon said, laughing. "I'll pick you out a nice postcard, Spencer Smith. How about that?"
Jon shook his head. "I'd hate to see the ring you get for your fiancée," he said.
Ryan's stomach lurched.
"Oh, Jon, it would be a fabulous ring," Brendon told him. "And I don't think my marriage would ever be legal."
"Ah, yes, you caught the gay," Jon muttered thoughtfully. "I had forgotten since I never found any porn magazines."
Brendon laughed again.
"Tell me, Brendon," Jon said. "Does it pain you that you can never experience the wonders of porn?"
Ryan stared at him. "Jon!"
"What? You're thinking it, too!"
"I am not! It's not something to joke about," Ryan said.
Brendon's hand felt along the table until it found Ryan's and he grasped his fingers. "Ryan, it's fine. We were just playing."
"It's not funny," he said, jerking his hand out from under Brendon's and walked outside of the restaurant. He ran his hands through the hair, fully intending to walk calmly back into the restaurant after a minute, insult his friends once more, before apologizing and going back to the hotel. He didn't expect to hear Brendon calling his name and stumbling outside the restaurant, hands pressed firmly against the wall so he didn't run into anything.
"Ryan. Ryan, where are you?" Brendon asked, his voice shaking slightly.
Ryan shook his head, rushing forward to Brendon to grab his elbow. "I'm right here, Bren," he said, quietly.
Brendon's hands found their way to Ryan's forearms. "Why did you leave?"
"Because I don't think it's something funny for Jon to joke about."
"But I'm okay with it. It doesn't hurt me, Ryan."
"It does me," Ryan said quietly. "I'm just going to go back to the hotel, okay?"
"I'll go with you."
He shook his head. "No, no, you stay here with the guys. I'll go alone."
"Ryan Ross, if you leave here right now, I will stay right where I am, looking like a sad, lost puppy. Some pedophile could come along and defile me. I'm adorable--I think. You don't know what could happen," Brendon threatened.
Ryan smiled slightly. "You are adorable."
"So you'll take me with you?"
"Yeah."
Brendon's fingers trailed down the length of Ryan's forearm until he felt his palm, lacing their fingers together. "Lead the way."
+
"How long?"
Ryan looked up from his book, sending Spencer a curious look as he walked into the room, throwing a shopping bag on the bed. "How long what?"
Spencer rolled his eyes. "Don't play stupid, Ross."
"Spencer, seriously," Ryan said, sighing. He set his bookmark between the pages and set his book beside him. "I'm not in the mood for this so just. What?"
Spencer sat down on his own bed, just a couple of feet across from Ryan. He set his elbows on his knees and stared at his best friend. "Jon and I aren't stupid, you know."
"I do know," Ryan agreed. "We haven't become successful because we're idiots, Spencer. I mean, we're not, like... Paris Hilton or something, you know? We have brains. Now...what is this all about?"
"Jon and I can see how you look at Brendon, Ryan," he said quietly.
Ryan picked up his book again and busied himself with reading.
"Ryan."
He didn't respond.
"You're not defending yourself so I guess it's safe to assume that we're right."
Ryan still didn't respond.
"Ryan. Ryan, look at me."
He sighed but slowly slid his eyes over to Spencer.
Spencer shook his head, moving over to sit next to his best friend. "I'm sorry, Ryan," he said quietly.
Ryan didn't say anything, he just sat up and wrapped his arms around his friend's waist, sniffling. "This sucks, Spencer."
"I know."
"I feel...lucky that he's blind sometimes," he told him quietly. "I know it sounds wrong, but. I do."
"Because he can't see you trailing behind him like a love sick puppy?"
Ryan pouted, nodding slowly. "Yeah. That'd be embarrassing."
Spencer smiled, just slightly. "He's your best friend. He'd understand."
Ryan shook his head, pulling away. "No. No, he wouldn't. He'd hate me. He'd never trust me again. And he needs to trust me. If he found out, it'd ruin our friendship, the band, everything."
"I don't believe that."
"Well, I do," Ryan said harshly.
Spencer looked down at his hands.
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
"It's just. He can't know. It's unfair. He's so happy, you know? He loves all of this. He loves singing, he loves playing the piano, he loves being compared to fucking Stevie Wonder," Ryan shook his head, laughing. "He just loves it. And I'm not going to be the one to ruin it."
"What if you can't ruin it? What if he's not as happy as he seems? I mean, he's not good at hiding his emotions, anyway. You should've seen him this morning at breakfast, after you ran off. He looked so...distraught, that--"
"Distraught, Spencer? Really? Distraught?" Ryan asked, smiling.
Spencer rolled his eyes. "Fuck you. I can use big words. And yes, distraught. He just stood up and ran after you, he totally ran into a waiter and spilled food. But he didn't care. He just wanted to make sure you were okay," he told him, shrugging. "Maybe he has a secret, too."
The smile fell from Ryan's face. "Don't joke about that."
"Ryan--"
"No," he said. "No. Okay? Just no. He doesn't-- There's no secret, okay? And, he's not. He's not finding out. Because you're not telling him. And Jon's not going to tell him. And I sure as hell am not going to tell him. Because no one is telling him. Because he's better off not knowing, okay? Please, Spencer, I just. No. Don't do it, okay? And don't threaten me with this bullshit either, okay? It's not funny. It's not something to joke about. And it's not something I want him to know."
Spencer waited for Ryan to finish his tirade before nodding slowly. "Fine. It's your shit to tell. But he's gonna find out sooner or later, Ryan. Just think about that."
"How? How exactly is he going to be able to tell? Will my facial expressions give me away?" he asked sarcastically.
"He's not an idiot," Spencer said. "He's smarter and more observant than you give him credit for."
+
A couple of weeks passed and it took all of Ryan's self control to try to act as normal as possible. He knew Brendon wasn't a fool. He knew that Brendon could tell what was wrong, if something was wrong, just by listening to him talk and move around the bus. Thankfully, the tour had ended and Ryan was content to wallow in self pity in his apartment. Unfortunately, that wasn't how it worked out. He and Brendon were still best friends--Ryan knew Brendon would know something was up if they just stopped hanging out.
+
"What do you think about this, Ryan?" Brendon asked, pale fingers gliding over the white keys of the keyboard Ryan bought for him for Christmas the year before.
Ryan's eyes stayed on Brendon's fingers and he found himself nodding his approval.
"Ryan?" Brendon asked, head tilting towards the left; Ryan was on his right.
"I like it," Ryan said quietly. "It's smooth. It...flows. It's. It's really nice, Brendon. How did you come up with it?"
"I read about it in a book somewheres."
Ryan smiled. "Really, now?"
"Yes. See? Not painful to joke about me being blind," Brendon said, smiling an awkward and crooked smile that made Ryan's stomach twist a little bit. He paused. "Is it painful for you to hear?"
"Hear what?"
"Someone joking about me being blind."
Ryan looked down at his own hands, his own calloused fingers. "I don't like hearing people talk about it because... I don't know. Because most people assume that those who are blind are completely dependent on others, you know? Weak. And you're not. You're all...self-sufficient. You don't rely on us, but you know we're here if you ever need anything. Whenever I hear someone joke about it, I feel as if it's demeaning you and what you've become. I don't like that."
Brendon smiled, his fingers producing another tune all on their own. "You're really protective of me, you know that, right?"
"Yeah. I've heard that a time or two."
"It's really sweet. But, I mean, you don't have to be, you know?"
Ryan nodded. "Yeah, I know."
"I've been taking care of myself for a while. And I know the three of you are there should I need you. And I'll always need you guys, you know? But...you're not going to be there forever, you know?"
"What do you mean?"
Brendon shrugged. "I'm just saying. There are going to be times when I need to do things on my own. And you won't be with me twenty four seven, right?"
Ryan didn't say anything.
Brendon paused. "I'm sorry-- Did I say the wrong thing?"
He shook his head. "No. I just..." he sighed. "No, you didn't. You're fine."
Brendon's face scrunched up and he moved his hands from the keys, moving over slowly to find Ryan's arm. He moved on the bench so he was facing Ryan; he slid his fingers down towards Ryan's wrist. "No, what did I say? You sound sad."
"I'm not sad," Ryan told him. "I promise."
"I don't believe you."
Ryan sighed. "It's nothing, Brendon."
Brendon pouted. "Ryan. You're my best friend. Where's the trust, man?"
"I have to go," Ryan whispered.
Brendon's fingers tightened around his wrist. "Please don't."
"I have to go," he repeated. "I have to. I'm sorry," he said sadly, slipping his wrist free of Brendon's hold and standing up. He grabbed his jacket from the couch and threw it on.
"Ryan--"
"I'm sorry," Ryan said, refusing to look back at him as he walked out of the door.
Brendon sighed as he heard the door slam shut and he shook his head. "Ross, you're going to be the death of me."
+
"I think I messed up, Jon, really bad this time," Brendon said, his hands shaking slightly as Jon handed him a mug of hot chocolate.
Jon sat down next to him on the couch. "Okay. Tell me what happened, with less sniffling this time. I couldn't understand a thing you said on the phone."
Brendon sighed, taking a deep breath. "He and I were just talking, you know? And then he got all... His voice got all low, you know? How it does when he's sad? Low and soft, you know? And I could feel that he was trembling a little bit. So I asked what I did and he just. He left. And he slammed the door. And he only slams shit when he's mad at himself," he told him. "And he won't answer his phone."
"Just give him time, Brendon. He probably just needs... I don't know, actually. I don't know what's going on with him, Brendon," he told him. "But if he wants you to know, he'll tell you. Some people just need to deal with things on their own."
"That's what I told him."
"What do you mean?"
"I told him that he was really protective of me, and that I'm going to have to do things on my own sometimes, because he's not always going to be there," Brendon said.
Jon sucked in a breath. "Yeah, that's what you said."
"What?"
"You basically implied that he's lying when he says he'll always be there," Jon told him.
Brendon shook his head. "No, I never said--"
"I know, Brendon. But that's what Ryan heard. You know how he is, Brendon," he said. "All he wants is to make sure you're safe."
"But it's true, Jon. At some point, he won't be there. And neither will you or Spencer."
Jon nodded. "I know. And I agree. But... You don't get it, do you?"
Brendon frowned. "Don't talk to me like I'm stupid, Jon. I'm blind, not an idiot."
"I didn't mean to talk to you like that. But you just don't understand how strongly Ryan feels about it. It's almost unnatural," he said, shaking his head. "It goes beyond best friends. Everyone can tell that."
"You mean... He-- He, like, loves me or something?"
"Of course he does--we all do. He's just... He's more protective because I really do believe he cares more than anyone else. I don't know. It doesn't really make sense," he said. "Maybe you should talk to him about it."
"I'd love to. But he won't answer his phone."
"Do you want me to take you over to his apartment?"
Brendon nodded. "Yes, please."
"Okay," Jon said, taking Brendon's mug from him and setting it down on the table. He lightly grabbed Brendon's elbow and helped him stand up, guiding him outside towards his car. "Do you want me to wait outside for you in case he doesn't answer?"
"Oh, God," Brendon whispered. "He might not answer his door," he said as he stopped walking.
Jon looked back at him. "Do you not want to go?"
"No, I want to go. I just don't want him to ignore me," he said quietly.
Jon smiled reassuringly, though Brendon couldn't see it. "Don't worry about it, Bren. One look at your little cute sad face and he won't be able to ignore you anymore, okay?"
Brendon smiled, flushing just slightly. "Shut up, Jon," he said, as Jon led him to his car, shutting the door behind him.
Jon laughed, climbing behind the wheel. "Well, it's true."
"Shut up and drive."
"Okay, Rihanna."
Brendon laughed. "Shut up."
+
Brendon held on tightly to the door frame, knuckles rapping sharply on the door to Ryan's apartment. He could hear Jon's car on the curb as he waited for Ryan to open the door. A couple of minutes passed and Brendon knocked again. He could hear shuffling around in the apartment, no matter how slight, and it only took a couple of minutes before the door opened.
"Brendon, what are you doing here?" Ryan asked softly, sounding more defeated than ever.
"Please don't ignore me, Ryan," Brendon said, his arm reaching out to try and find Ryan.
Ryan reached out his hand and grabbed Brendon's. "I wasn't ignoring you."
"What do you call not answering my calls, then?"
"Coincidence?" Ryan offered hopefully.
Brendon smiled. "Can I come in? So we can talk?"
Ryan sighed. "I--I don't know, Bren."
"Please?" he asked, pouting. "I don't want my best friend to hate me."
Another sigh, but Ryan gave in. "Okay. Come on in," he said, waving to Jon over Brendon's shoulder and waving him on.
Brendon allowed Ryan to lead him inside and he slowly sat down on the couch. He could feel Ryan's fingers trying to slip from his but he held on tighter, causing Ryan to sit down right beside him. "Why don't you want to sit by me?"
"Because it's too hard, Brendon," Ryan said softly.
"What do you mean?" Brendon asked, reaching his free hand up to rest on Ryan's shoulder.
Ryan shrugged.
Brendon trailed his fingers up the side of Ryan's neck, to his jaw, and then his cheek. He gasped lightly as he felt something wet. "Why are you crying?"
Ryan shook his head. "Because..."
"Because why?" he asked quietly. Ryan didn't answer. "Do you hate me, Ryan?"
"God, no," Ryan said without hesitation. "I don't hate you."
"Then why are you treating me like this?" Brendon asked. "You've been ignoring me. And now you're crying. And I want to know what I did wrong so I can fix it."
"You can't fix this."
"I can try."
Ryan sighed, his eyes landing on Brendon's face. Ryan released his hand and cupped Brendon's face in his hands. He brushed his thumbs over Brendon's cheekbones. "You can't fix it, Brendon."
"Why not?"
Ryan watched as Brendon frowned, his dark eyes looking just to the right of Ryan's head. His stomach was twisting into knots and his hands were shaking. Ryan shook his head and decided to just go for it. He leaned in and slowly brushed his lips against Brendon's. He felt his best friend freeze, but he didn't move. He kept their lips pressed together, just barely, and it only took about thirty seconds before he felt Brendon move against him.
Brendon kissed slowly, as if he was afraid that he was going to miss out on the smallest thing. His movements were unsteady, almost like he was afraid he was going to do something wrong. His hand fell from Ryan's cheek to grip his shoulder and he leaned closer into Ryan, a small whimper sliding past his lips.
Ryan pulled away, licking his lips, and Brendon instinctively leaned closer, resting his forehead on Ryan's. "I'm sorry," Ryan whispered. "I shouldn't have done that."
"Yes, you should've," Brendon told him. His hand moved from Ryan's shoulder to his hair and an awkward silence fell over the two of them. Brendon hated the silence. "Jon said you care about me more than anyone else."
Ryan nodded. "I do."
Brendon's other hand rested on Ryan's cheek, fingers sliding down to brush over his lips. "Jon said that I shouldn't have implied that you won't always be in my life."
"I'll be there until you don't want me there anymore, Brendon. Just know that, okay?"
Brendon's fingers didn't leave Ryan's lips as he leaned in to kiss him--he didn't want to mess up and ruin the moment. Ryan's arms wrapped around Brendon's waist and he slowly laid back against the couch, pulling Brendon to rest on top of him. Brendon laughed, their lips parting.
"What?" Ryan asked.
Brendon shook his head. "Nothing. I just. I really wish I could see you right now."
"That's...why you're laughing?" he asked, confused.
"Yeah," Brendon said. "I bet you look really flustered. And you're blushing--but I can feel that."
Ryan smiled.
"And I bet you're smiling."
"I am."
Brendon smiled himself. "Good."
"I love you, Brendon."
Brendon's smile faltered for a second, but Ryan still noticed it. "Ryan, I--"
"Don't say it back. I know this is me bombarding you. And I don't expect you to say it back," Ryan told him, "okay?"
"You don't want me to say it?" he asked, wondering if he looked as confused as he felt.
"Not unless you mean it."
"Not until I mean it," he corrected him.
Ryan bit his lip. "What do you mean?"
"I know I will. I mean, come on. You're Ryan. You're my best friend. Of course it's there, you know?" Brendon explained.
"No, I-- I don't know. I'm pretty much...confused."
Brendon laughed, leaning in to kiss his lips--he missed and hit the side of his jaw. "That's okay. I bet you look really good confused."
Ryan smiled, tilting his head so his nose hit Brendon's. "You always look really good."
Brendon flushed, just a little bit. "You're a real charmer, Ryan Ross."
"So I've been told," he joked.
"Are you even going to ask me out?" Brendon asked.
Ryan froze. "What?"
"Well?"
"You want me to ask you out?"
"Obviously," Brendon said. "Duh."
Ryan laughed. "I don't think I will just yet. I think I'll keep you waiting."
Brendon smiled. "As long as you will? Because you know the answer will be yes."
"It will be?"
"Yes," Brendon said, nodding. "I'm blind, Ryan, not an idiot. You're not very good at keeping a secret."
"But I never said anything."
"I know," he said, pressing his lips to Ryan's jaw. "You didn't have to."
[x] Okay. First blind fic. Only blind fic. I was terrified to write this. But Cait said it was good (and I ~believe her) so I decided to post it anyway and get it over with. I'm working on a couple other stories, no idea when they'll be done because the amusement park I work at opens full time on Friday and I'm working about 70 hours a week, so I won't have a ton of time. But I'll write on my days off. Thank you for reading! I hope that you liked it. And I hope it wasn't too bad, so. Thank you. =]
Author: causticmayhemx
Pairing: Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie.
Rating: R.
Word Count: 3838.
Summary: Brendon's blind, Ryan loves him, blah blah cliche and lame.
Disclaimer: This never happened.
A/N: I've been working on this for a while and I was so, so nervous because I had no idea how this was going to turn out. So I hope that you like it or...something. Also, the title credit goes to the film Amandla! It's about apartheid in South Africa and how songs inspired the people and "songs of struggle" was used to describe their music, so. Yes.
Songs of Struggle.
Ryan couldn't imagine how hard it must be for Brendon on a daily basis. He couldn't imagine what it was like to wake up and not see anything. He couldn't imagine never being able to see the sun rise or set and never experience the normal things that other people take for granted. He only told Spencer once just how much he admired Brendon. He would rarely bring it up. He never wanted to treat Brendon differently than Spencer, Jon, anyone, because that wasn't what Brendon wanted.
And Ryan only wanted to make him happy.
Brendon articulated quite often that he was fine, he was used to it, that it didn't affect him as much as it first did. Ryan wanted to believe him, but he kept thinking about how devastated he would be if he woke up one morning and couldn't see anything. Brendon often told him that it was something he got used to; he had grown up without ever being able to see anything--himself, his friends, his family. He had gotten accustomed to the fact that he would never know what he looked like, what his family looked like, what his friends looked like, where he grew up--anything.
Brendon couldn't miss what he never got to experience.
Ryan would often choose to sit next to Brendon wherever they were. If the four of them were watching a movie, Ryan wouldn't pay attention; he would just stare at Brendon out of the corner of his eye. He didn't know how Brendon could settle for just listening to a movie. He was glad, sometimes, that Brendon couldn't tell that he was staring at him. It made him feel less creepy for just watching his best friend all of the time. He couldn't help but think that Brendon was missing out on so much.
+
"What do you feel like for breakfast, Bren?" Ryan asked, holding Brendon's elbow as he scooted into the booth, following right after him.
Brendon shrugged, resting his hands on the table. "I don't know. Fruit? I think I'm in the mood for fruit."
"You think you are?" Ryan smiled.
Brendon laughed. "Yeah, I think I am. What do you want, guys?"
"Short stack," Ryan told him. "As always."
"I want an omelet," Spencer told him. "With, like. Tomatoes. And cheese."
Jon smiled. "Oh, man, that sounds really good."
"This place smells nice," Brendon commented. "Is there a candle on the table?"
"Yeah," Jon said.
"Vanilla. I like it."
Ryan looked over at him and smiled. He didn't ask how he knew--Brendon would just smile, shrug, and not answer. That was one more thing that Ryan loved about Brendon.
Brendon reached up and ran a hand over his hair. "My hair feels greasy."
"You should shower when we get back to the hotel," Ryan told him.
"Are you saying I look gross, Ryan Ross?" Brendon asked, looking in his general direction.
Ryan smiled and looked down, shaking his head. "No. I'm definitely not saying that."
Brendon smiled. "Okay, so, what's on the agenda for today?"
"Well, we have an interview this afternoon, and then a radio show to do. That's really it. We have tomorrow off so if you want to go sight-seeing--" Spencer cut himself off. "I mean--"
"It's okay," Brendon said, laughing. "I'll pick you out a nice postcard, Spencer Smith. How about that?"
Jon shook his head. "I'd hate to see the ring you get for your fiancée," he said.
Ryan's stomach lurched.
"Oh, Jon, it would be a fabulous ring," Brendon told him. "And I don't think my marriage would ever be legal."
"Ah, yes, you caught the gay," Jon muttered thoughtfully. "I had forgotten since I never found any porn magazines."
Brendon laughed again.
"Tell me, Brendon," Jon said. "Does it pain you that you can never experience the wonders of porn?"
Ryan stared at him. "Jon!"
"What? You're thinking it, too!"
"I am not! It's not something to joke about," Ryan said.
Brendon's hand felt along the table until it found Ryan's and he grasped his fingers. "Ryan, it's fine. We were just playing."
"It's not funny," he said, jerking his hand out from under Brendon's and walked outside of the restaurant. He ran his hands through the hair, fully intending to walk calmly back into the restaurant after a minute, insult his friends once more, before apologizing and going back to the hotel. He didn't expect to hear Brendon calling his name and stumbling outside the restaurant, hands pressed firmly against the wall so he didn't run into anything.
"Ryan. Ryan, where are you?" Brendon asked, his voice shaking slightly.
Ryan shook his head, rushing forward to Brendon to grab his elbow. "I'm right here, Bren," he said, quietly.
Brendon's hands found their way to Ryan's forearms. "Why did you leave?"
"Because I don't think it's something funny for Jon to joke about."
"But I'm okay with it. It doesn't hurt me, Ryan."
"It does me," Ryan said quietly. "I'm just going to go back to the hotel, okay?"
"I'll go with you."
He shook his head. "No, no, you stay here with the guys. I'll go alone."
"Ryan Ross, if you leave here right now, I will stay right where I am, looking like a sad, lost puppy. Some pedophile could come along and defile me. I'm adorable--I think. You don't know what could happen," Brendon threatened.
Ryan smiled slightly. "You are adorable."
"So you'll take me with you?"
"Yeah."
Brendon's fingers trailed down the length of Ryan's forearm until he felt his palm, lacing their fingers together. "Lead the way."
+
"How long?"
Ryan looked up from his book, sending Spencer a curious look as he walked into the room, throwing a shopping bag on the bed. "How long what?"
Spencer rolled his eyes. "Don't play stupid, Ross."
"Spencer, seriously," Ryan said, sighing. He set his bookmark between the pages and set his book beside him. "I'm not in the mood for this so just. What?"
Spencer sat down on his own bed, just a couple of feet across from Ryan. He set his elbows on his knees and stared at his best friend. "Jon and I aren't stupid, you know."
"I do know," Ryan agreed. "We haven't become successful because we're idiots, Spencer. I mean, we're not, like... Paris Hilton or something, you know? We have brains. Now...what is this all about?"
"Jon and I can see how you look at Brendon, Ryan," he said quietly.
Ryan picked up his book again and busied himself with reading.
"Ryan."
He didn't respond.
"You're not defending yourself so I guess it's safe to assume that we're right."
Ryan still didn't respond.
"Ryan. Ryan, look at me."
He sighed but slowly slid his eyes over to Spencer.
Spencer shook his head, moving over to sit next to his best friend. "I'm sorry, Ryan," he said quietly.
Ryan didn't say anything, he just sat up and wrapped his arms around his friend's waist, sniffling. "This sucks, Spencer."
"I know."
"I feel...lucky that he's blind sometimes," he told him quietly. "I know it sounds wrong, but. I do."
"Because he can't see you trailing behind him like a love sick puppy?"
Ryan pouted, nodding slowly. "Yeah. That'd be embarrassing."
Spencer smiled, just slightly. "He's your best friend. He'd understand."
Ryan shook his head, pulling away. "No. No, he wouldn't. He'd hate me. He'd never trust me again. And he needs to trust me. If he found out, it'd ruin our friendship, the band, everything."
"I don't believe that."
"Well, I do," Ryan said harshly.
Spencer looked down at his hands.
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
"It's just. He can't know. It's unfair. He's so happy, you know? He loves all of this. He loves singing, he loves playing the piano, he loves being compared to fucking Stevie Wonder," Ryan shook his head, laughing. "He just loves it. And I'm not going to be the one to ruin it."
"What if you can't ruin it? What if he's not as happy as he seems? I mean, he's not good at hiding his emotions, anyway. You should've seen him this morning at breakfast, after you ran off. He looked so...distraught, that--"
"Distraught, Spencer? Really? Distraught?" Ryan asked, smiling.
Spencer rolled his eyes. "Fuck you. I can use big words. And yes, distraught. He just stood up and ran after you, he totally ran into a waiter and spilled food. But he didn't care. He just wanted to make sure you were okay," he told him, shrugging. "Maybe he has a secret, too."
The smile fell from Ryan's face. "Don't joke about that."
"Ryan--"
"No," he said. "No. Okay? Just no. He doesn't-- There's no secret, okay? And, he's not. He's not finding out. Because you're not telling him. And Jon's not going to tell him. And I sure as hell am not going to tell him. Because no one is telling him. Because he's better off not knowing, okay? Please, Spencer, I just. No. Don't do it, okay? And don't threaten me with this bullshit either, okay? It's not funny. It's not something to joke about. And it's not something I want him to know."
Spencer waited for Ryan to finish his tirade before nodding slowly. "Fine. It's your shit to tell. But he's gonna find out sooner or later, Ryan. Just think about that."
"How? How exactly is he going to be able to tell? Will my facial expressions give me away?" he asked sarcastically.
"He's not an idiot," Spencer said. "He's smarter and more observant than you give him credit for."
+
A couple of weeks passed and it took all of Ryan's self control to try to act as normal as possible. He knew Brendon wasn't a fool. He knew that Brendon could tell what was wrong, if something was wrong, just by listening to him talk and move around the bus. Thankfully, the tour had ended and Ryan was content to wallow in self pity in his apartment. Unfortunately, that wasn't how it worked out. He and Brendon were still best friends--Ryan knew Brendon would know something was up if they just stopped hanging out.
+
"What do you think about this, Ryan?" Brendon asked, pale fingers gliding over the white keys of the keyboard Ryan bought for him for Christmas the year before.
Ryan's eyes stayed on Brendon's fingers and he found himself nodding his approval.
"Ryan?" Brendon asked, head tilting towards the left; Ryan was on his right.
"I like it," Ryan said quietly. "It's smooth. It...flows. It's. It's really nice, Brendon. How did you come up with it?"
"I read about it in a book somewheres."
Ryan smiled. "Really, now?"
"Yes. See? Not painful to joke about me being blind," Brendon said, smiling an awkward and crooked smile that made Ryan's stomach twist a little bit. He paused. "Is it painful for you to hear?"
"Hear what?"
"Someone joking about me being blind."
Ryan looked down at his own hands, his own calloused fingers. "I don't like hearing people talk about it because... I don't know. Because most people assume that those who are blind are completely dependent on others, you know? Weak. And you're not. You're all...self-sufficient. You don't rely on us, but you know we're here if you ever need anything. Whenever I hear someone joke about it, I feel as if it's demeaning you and what you've become. I don't like that."
Brendon smiled, his fingers producing another tune all on their own. "You're really protective of me, you know that, right?"
"Yeah. I've heard that a time or two."
"It's really sweet. But, I mean, you don't have to be, you know?"
Ryan nodded. "Yeah, I know."
"I've been taking care of myself for a while. And I know the three of you are there should I need you. And I'll always need you guys, you know? But...you're not going to be there forever, you know?"
"What do you mean?"
Brendon shrugged. "I'm just saying. There are going to be times when I need to do things on my own. And you won't be with me twenty four seven, right?"
Ryan didn't say anything.
Brendon paused. "I'm sorry-- Did I say the wrong thing?"
He shook his head. "No. I just..." he sighed. "No, you didn't. You're fine."
Brendon's face scrunched up and he moved his hands from the keys, moving over slowly to find Ryan's arm. He moved on the bench so he was facing Ryan; he slid his fingers down towards Ryan's wrist. "No, what did I say? You sound sad."
"I'm not sad," Ryan told him. "I promise."
"I don't believe you."
Ryan sighed. "It's nothing, Brendon."
Brendon pouted. "Ryan. You're my best friend. Where's the trust, man?"
"I have to go," Ryan whispered.
Brendon's fingers tightened around his wrist. "Please don't."
"I have to go," he repeated. "I have to. I'm sorry," he said sadly, slipping his wrist free of Brendon's hold and standing up. He grabbed his jacket from the couch and threw it on.
"Ryan--"
"I'm sorry," Ryan said, refusing to look back at him as he walked out of the door.
Brendon sighed as he heard the door slam shut and he shook his head. "Ross, you're going to be the death of me."
+
"I think I messed up, Jon, really bad this time," Brendon said, his hands shaking slightly as Jon handed him a mug of hot chocolate.
Jon sat down next to him on the couch. "Okay. Tell me what happened, with less sniffling this time. I couldn't understand a thing you said on the phone."
Brendon sighed, taking a deep breath. "He and I were just talking, you know? And then he got all... His voice got all low, you know? How it does when he's sad? Low and soft, you know? And I could feel that he was trembling a little bit. So I asked what I did and he just. He left. And he slammed the door. And he only slams shit when he's mad at himself," he told him. "And he won't answer his phone."
"Just give him time, Brendon. He probably just needs... I don't know, actually. I don't know what's going on with him, Brendon," he told him. "But if he wants you to know, he'll tell you. Some people just need to deal with things on their own."
"That's what I told him."
"What do you mean?"
"I told him that he was really protective of me, and that I'm going to have to do things on my own sometimes, because he's not always going to be there," Brendon said.
Jon sucked in a breath. "Yeah, that's what you said."
"What?"
"You basically implied that he's lying when he says he'll always be there," Jon told him.
Brendon shook his head. "No, I never said--"
"I know, Brendon. But that's what Ryan heard. You know how he is, Brendon," he said. "All he wants is to make sure you're safe."
"But it's true, Jon. At some point, he won't be there. And neither will you or Spencer."
Jon nodded. "I know. And I agree. But... You don't get it, do you?"
Brendon frowned. "Don't talk to me like I'm stupid, Jon. I'm blind, not an idiot."
"I didn't mean to talk to you like that. But you just don't understand how strongly Ryan feels about it. It's almost unnatural," he said, shaking his head. "It goes beyond best friends. Everyone can tell that."
"You mean... He-- He, like, loves me or something?"
"Of course he does--we all do. He's just... He's more protective because I really do believe he cares more than anyone else. I don't know. It doesn't really make sense," he said. "Maybe you should talk to him about it."
"I'd love to. But he won't answer his phone."
"Do you want me to take you over to his apartment?"
Brendon nodded. "Yes, please."
"Okay," Jon said, taking Brendon's mug from him and setting it down on the table. He lightly grabbed Brendon's elbow and helped him stand up, guiding him outside towards his car. "Do you want me to wait outside for you in case he doesn't answer?"
"Oh, God," Brendon whispered. "He might not answer his door," he said as he stopped walking.
Jon looked back at him. "Do you not want to go?"
"No, I want to go. I just don't want him to ignore me," he said quietly.
Jon smiled reassuringly, though Brendon couldn't see it. "Don't worry about it, Bren. One look at your little cute sad face and he won't be able to ignore you anymore, okay?"
Brendon smiled, flushing just slightly. "Shut up, Jon," he said, as Jon led him to his car, shutting the door behind him.
Jon laughed, climbing behind the wheel. "Well, it's true."
"Shut up and drive."
"Okay, Rihanna."
Brendon laughed. "Shut up."
+
Brendon held on tightly to the door frame, knuckles rapping sharply on the door to Ryan's apartment. He could hear Jon's car on the curb as he waited for Ryan to open the door. A couple of minutes passed and Brendon knocked again. He could hear shuffling around in the apartment, no matter how slight, and it only took a couple of minutes before the door opened.
"Brendon, what are you doing here?" Ryan asked softly, sounding more defeated than ever.
"Please don't ignore me, Ryan," Brendon said, his arm reaching out to try and find Ryan.
Ryan reached out his hand and grabbed Brendon's. "I wasn't ignoring you."
"What do you call not answering my calls, then?"
"Coincidence?" Ryan offered hopefully.
Brendon smiled. "Can I come in? So we can talk?"
Ryan sighed. "I--I don't know, Bren."
"Please?" he asked, pouting. "I don't want my best friend to hate me."
Another sigh, but Ryan gave in. "Okay. Come on in," he said, waving to Jon over Brendon's shoulder and waving him on.
Brendon allowed Ryan to lead him inside and he slowly sat down on the couch. He could feel Ryan's fingers trying to slip from his but he held on tighter, causing Ryan to sit down right beside him. "Why don't you want to sit by me?"
"Because it's too hard, Brendon," Ryan said softly.
"What do you mean?" Brendon asked, reaching his free hand up to rest on Ryan's shoulder.
Ryan shrugged.
Brendon trailed his fingers up the side of Ryan's neck, to his jaw, and then his cheek. He gasped lightly as he felt something wet. "Why are you crying?"
Ryan shook his head. "Because..."
"Because why?" he asked quietly. Ryan didn't answer. "Do you hate me, Ryan?"
"God, no," Ryan said without hesitation. "I don't hate you."
"Then why are you treating me like this?" Brendon asked. "You've been ignoring me. And now you're crying. And I want to know what I did wrong so I can fix it."
"You can't fix this."
"I can try."
Ryan sighed, his eyes landing on Brendon's face. Ryan released his hand and cupped Brendon's face in his hands. He brushed his thumbs over Brendon's cheekbones. "You can't fix it, Brendon."
"Why not?"
Ryan watched as Brendon frowned, his dark eyes looking just to the right of Ryan's head. His stomach was twisting into knots and his hands were shaking. Ryan shook his head and decided to just go for it. He leaned in and slowly brushed his lips against Brendon's. He felt his best friend freeze, but he didn't move. He kept their lips pressed together, just barely, and it only took about thirty seconds before he felt Brendon move against him.
Brendon kissed slowly, as if he was afraid that he was going to miss out on the smallest thing. His movements were unsteady, almost like he was afraid he was going to do something wrong. His hand fell from Ryan's cheek to grip his shoulder and he leaned closer into Ryan, a small whimper sliding past his lips.
Ryan pulled away, licking his lips, and Brendon instinctively leaned closer, resting his forehead on Ryan's. "I'm sorry," Ryan whispered. "I shouldn't have done that."
"Yes, you should've," Brendon told him. His hand moved from Ryan's shoulder to his hair and an awkward silence fell over the two of them. Brendon hated the silence. "Jon said you care about me more than anyone else."
Ryan nodded. "I do."
Brendon's other hand rested on Ryan's cheek, fingers sliding down to brush over his lips. "Jon said that I shouldn't have implied that you won't always be in my life."
"I'll be there until you don't want me there anymore, Brendon. Just know that, okay?"
Brendon's fingers didn't leave Ryan's lips as he leaned in to kiss him--he didn't want to mess up and ruin the moment. Ryan's arms wrapped around Brendon's waist and he slowly laid back against the couch, pulling Brendon to rest on top of him. Brendon laughed, their lips parting.
"What?" Ryan asked.
Brendon shook his head. "Nothing. I just. I really wish I could see you right now."
"That's...why you're laughing?" he asked, confused.
"Yeah," Brendon said. "I bet you look really flustered. And you're blushing--but I can feel that."
Ryan smiled.
"And I bet you're smiling."
"I am."
Brendon smiled himself. "Good."
"I love you, Brendon."
Brendon's smile faltered for a second, but Ryan still noticed it. "Ryan, I--"
"Don't say it back. I know this is me bombarding you. And I don't expect you to say it back," Ryan told him, "okay?"
"You don't want me to say it?" he asked, wondering if he looked as confused as he felt.
"Not unless you mean it."
"Not until I mean it," he corrected him.
Ryan bit his lip. "What do you mean?"
"I know I will. I mean, come on. You're Ryan. You're my best friend. Of course it's there, you know?" Brendon explained.
"No, I-- I don't know. I'm pretty much...confused."
Brendon laughed, leaning in to kiss his lips--he missed and hit the side of his jaw. "That's okay. I bet you look really good confused."
Ryan smiled, tilting his head so his nose hit Brendon's. "You always look really good."
Brendon flushed, just a little bit. "You're a real charmer, Ryan Ross."
"So I've been told," he joked.
"Are you even going to ask me out?" Brendon asked.
Ryan froze. "What?"
"Well?"
"You want me to ask you out?"
"Obviously," Brendon said. "Duh."
Ryan laughed. "I don't think I will just yet. I think I'll keep you waiting."
Brendon smiled. "As long as you will? Because you know the answer will be yes."
"It will be?"
"Yes," Brendon said, nodding. "I'm blind, Ryan, not an idiot. You're not very good at keeping a secret."
"But I never said anything."
"I know," he said, pressing his lips to Ryan's jaw. "You didn't have to."
[x] Okay. First blind fic. Only blind fic. I was terrified to write this. But Cait said it was good (and I ~believe her) so I decided to post it anyway and get it over with. I'm working on a couple other stories, no idea when they'll be done because the amusement park I work at opens full time on Friday and I'm working about 70 hours a week, so I won't have a ton of time. But I'll write on my days off. Thank you for reading! I hope that you liked it. And I hope it wasn't too bad, so. Thank you. =]