Infidelity (Standalone)
Title:Infidelity
Rating:PG-15
Pairing:Unspecified. But in my head it's Brendon/Jon, Brendon/Ryan.
Summary:Bathing in the moonlight, the boy caresses his cheek as he lies on his stomach, the other on his back next to him.
Disclaimer:God, I hope this isn't true. For anyone.
Author Notes:I wrote this at 6 AM (a couple hours ago) before I had any sleep. I still haven't been to sleep. This isn't beta'd because my beta and I can't talk until Friday D: So please forgive me for any errors. (more at the end)
The door swings open to a smiling face and the person on the other side grins back and lets the boy in.
-
He’s sitting in a chair, lights off and the moonlight shining in on him. His fingers laced together with his own, lips pursed and eyebrows draw together in thought.
-
The smiling boy walks into the foyer, into the house much too big and far too grand for one person. The other picks up his skinny legs to walk the steps, but the younger one spins on the marble floor and his open coat whirls around his legs.
-
He’s alone in his apartment just barely comfortable for two people and a couple of cats. He slumps low in his green armchair and covers his worried face with his hands.
-
The man walks back down the steps toward the joyful boy he admires so much and wraps his arms around his waist, stilling his movements. He leans down…
-
He hunches forward, elbows on his knees, face still in his hands.
-
…Whispers in the shorter boy’s ear. With the ever present smile playing at his lips, he returns the words with a kiss to his sharp jaw.
-
He breathes deep and looks around the room. Pictures everywhere, why so many pictures? His face, that’s all he sees. He starts to pace back and forth in front of the patio door, drowning in the moonlight.
-
They scurry up the stairs, fingers linked and still smiling. When they reach the top, the coat is taken off. Long boney fingers sliding it off the boy's shoulders letting his face draw nearer as his hands slide down strong, toned arms but careful so only his warm breath ghosts over his skin.
-
He flip the coffee table, kicks it across the room when it doesn’t land far enough away.
-
They reach the bedroom and the owner enters first leaving his… visitor to close it behind them, the smile still planted on his face. When it’s closed, he turns around only to feel the other’s hot breath again, getting closer.
-
He pushes every picture, every book, and every trinket off the shelf onto the floor. Doesn’t even flinch when a cat bats at his foot and cuts it after something glass landed on its tail.
-
It’s warm, the feeling of their lips pressed together. But not nearly the same degree as when his boney fingers wrap themselves around the boys hips. That…that’s fire.
-
Clutching a picture frame and sitting in the moonlight, he’s staring into his eyes. He’s missing that look in the boy’s eyes, yet feeling so grateful that he at least captured it. He wonders how the glass has suddenly become wet as he keeps staring.
-
Those eyes, he thinks, hovering above him, panting, Those eyes, they could make me believe in heaven. They’re on the bed, one lanky form hovering over the other and he thrusts back in and captures his lips before the moan can be heard, swallowing it.
-
The tears are fast and the heaving in his chest is causing unbearable pain but he likes it that way. The picture frame is shattered on the floor on the other side of the room.
-
Whispered declarations of love and need and want are exchanged once they’ve both reached their peak, the feeling of ecstasy running through their veins. And it’s so cliché and over done, but it’s true. At least it’s true, the boy thinks.
-
He’s writing, scratching, scribbling frantically with a pen on a pad of paper with orange bottles with white labels holding the worse candies you’ve ever tasted sitting in front of him on the coffee table he flipped back over. He rips the paper off the pad and sets it somewhere and he doesn’t care if it’ll be found.
-
Bathing, in the moonlight, the boy caresses his cheek as he lies on his stomach, the other on his back next to him. They smile tiredly and long fingers find their way up a smooth arm and down a naked spine and then back up. Fingers twist in hair and eyes try to stay open. Falling in love with someone else should never be so easy.
-
He carries his candies into the bathroom and runs the tap. Dark red wine is already pouring from his arms. One by one, bottle by bottle, his least favorite treats slide down his throat. He’s feeling drunk as the wine drains from his body. His eyes try to stay open as he falls to the floor. Falling out of love with someone should never be so… impossible.
-
They fall asleep in the moonlight, a head on a chest, a hand on a neck, fingers laced. Their pulses are the beat to their favorite love song.
-
He’s lying in the yellow florescent light with his stomach full of treats not so sweat and a rusty smelling wine surrounding him. His pulse is the discarded beat to something once beautiful and a cappella.
Love isn’t supposed to feel so good, and then hurt so badly.
A/N:I was listening to Moonlight Sonota while trying to fall asleep and this scene just started playing in my head. I'm sure it's much better in my head. But I had to write it down because I didn't want to lose it. So this is loosely based around that song...sort of. I hope you like it. Concrit PLEASE!
Rating:PG-15
Pairing:Unspecified. But in my head it's Brendon/Jon, Brendon/Ryan.
Summary:Bathing in the moonlight, the boy caresses his cheek as he lies on his stomach, the other on his back next to him.
Disclaimer:God, I hope this isn't true. For anyone.
Author Notes:I wrote this at 6 AM (a couple hours ago) before I had any sleep. I still haven't been to sleep. This isn't beta'd because my beta and I can't talk until Friday D: So please forgive me for any errors. (more at the end)
The door swings open to a smiling face and the person on the other side grins back and lets the boy in.
-
He’s sitting in a chair, lights off and the moonlight shining in on him. His fingers laced together with his own, lips pursed and eyebrows draw together in thought.
-
The smiling boy walks into the foyer, into the house much too big and far too grand for one person. The other picks up his skinny legs to walk the steps, but the younger one spins on the marble floor and his open coat whirls around his legs.
-
He’s alone in his apartment just barely comfortable for two people and a couple of cats. He slumps low in his green armchair and covers his worried face with his hands.
-
The man walks back down the steps toward the joyful boy he admires so much and wraps his arms around his waist, stilling his movements. He leans down…
-
He hunches forward, elbows on his knees, face still in his hands.
-
…Whispers in the shorter boy’s ear. With the ever present smile playing at his lips, he returns the words with a kiss to his sharp jaw.
-
He breathes deep and looks around the room. Pictures everywhere, why so many pictures? His face, that’s all he sees. He starts to pace back and forth in front of the patio door, drowning in the moonlight.
-
They scurry up the stairs, fingers linked and still smiling. When they reach the top, the coat is taken off. Long boney fingers sliding it off the boy's shoulders letting his face draw nearer as his hands slide down strong, toned arms but careful so only his warm breath ghosts over his skin.
-
He flip the coffee table, kicks it across the room when it doesn’t land far enough away.
-
They reach the bedroom and the owner enters first leaving his… visitor to close it behind them, the smile still planted on his face. When it’s closed, he turns around only to feel the other’s hot breath again, getting closer.
-
He pushes every picture, every book, and every trinket off the shelf onto the floor. Doesn’t even flinch when a cat bats at his foot and cuts it after something glass landed on its tail.
-
It’s warm, the feeling of their lips pressed together. But not nearly the same degree as when his boney fingers wrap themselves around the boys hips. That…that’s fire.
-
Clutching a picture frame and sitting in the moonlight, he’s staring into his eyes. He’s missing that look in the boy’s eyes, yet feeling so grateful that he at least captured it. He wonders how the glass has suddenly become wet as he keeps staring.
-
Those eyes, he thinks, hovering above him, panting, Those eyes, they could make me believe in heaven. They’re on the bed, one lanky form hovering over the other and he thrusts back in and captures his lips before the moan can be heard, swallowing it.
-
The tears are fast and the heaving in his chest is causing unbearable pain but he likes it that way. The picture frame is shattered on the floor on the other side of the room.
-
Whispered declarations of love and need and want are exchanged once they’ve both reached their peak, the feeling of ecstasy running through their veins. And it’s so cliché and over done, but it’s true. At least it’s true, the boy thinks.
-
He’s writing, scratching, scribbling frantically with a pen on a pad of paper with orange bottles with white labels holding the worse candies you’ve ever tasted sitting in front of him on the coffee table he flipped back over. He rips the paper off the pad and sets it somewhere and he doesn’t care if it’ll be found.
-
Bathing, in the moonlight, the boy caresses his cheek as he lies on his stomach, the other on his back next to him. They smile tiredly and long fingers find their way up a smooth arm and down a naked spine and then back up. Fingers twist in hair and eyes try to stay open. Falling in love with someone else should never be so easy.
-
He carries his candies into the bathroom and runs the tap. Dark red wine is already pouring from his arms. One by one, bottle by bottle, his least favorite treats slide down his throat. He’s feeling drunk as the wine drains from his body. His eyes try to stay open as he falls to the floor. Falling out of love with someone should never be so… impossible.
-
They fall asleep in the moonlight, a head on a chest, a hand on a neck, fingers laced. Their pulses are the beat to their favorite love song.
-
He’s lying in the yellow florescent light with his stomach full of treats not so sweat and a rusty smelling wine surrounding him. His pulse is the discarded beat to something once beautiful and a cappella.
Love isn’t supposed to feel so good, and then hurt so badly.
A/N:I was listening to Moonlight Sonota while trying to fall asleep and this scene just started playing in my head. I'm sure it's much better in my head. But I had to write it down because I didn't want to lose it. So this is loosely based around that song...sort of. I hope you like it. Concrit PLEASE!