Life In Retrospect [10/?]
Title: Life In Retrospect
Author: Chionophobia
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan
POV: Brendon
Word Count: 6807
Summary: Four years ago after a critically acclaimed world wide tour, the Panic At The Disco guitarist Ryan Ross disappeared from his hotel room, leaving no trace as to where he had gone. A few drops of blood and a broken lamp made the police conduct the disappearance as abduction, yet they were never able to find Ryan or make much progress on the matter. Meanwhile the police struggled to find Ryan or his kidnapper, Brendon Urie started his own investigation, an enquiry that after four years had yielded next to nothing, until one day, with the arriving of a postcard.
Disclaimer: This never happened.
Beta theliffey
Previous chapters: Here
Notes: I'm so sorry this has taken so long, but work and RL have been crazy lately.
Chapter Ten
Everything in Brendon's immediate vision was starting to spin.
His eyes were glued to the screen and the horrific red line stretched over the image of himself, but everything in the corners of his eyes seemed to move around. It made him dizzy. He forced himself to look away from the screen, just as the video stopped and left nothing but blank blackness in front of them.
Ryan was biting on his nails, his eyes still plastered to the dark rectangle. Brendon made himself shake out of the weird bubble he felt trapped in and reached down and placed a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan didn’t seem to notice.
“How did you get this?” Brendon asked, his voice surprisingly strong.
“I don’t know,” Ryan whispered. His eyes were still stuck to the screen and wouldn’t budge. “Zack brought it to me when I was in the car to go to the hotel after the show. There was a pack of gifts from fans, you know, letters, stuffed animals, CDs. Stuff like that. And this.” He ejected the DVD, but didn’t remove it, just kept staring at it.
Brendon looked at the black screen and tried to untangle his thoughts, but it was like the image was clawing itself stuck, because all he could see was that blood red line across his throat. He had to blink several times just to get the picture out of his mind. “It’s going to be okay,” he assured Ryan, who was sitting so still that he might have been a sculpture.
Ryan drew a shaky breath and seemed to slip out of his frozen state. “I should be the one telling you that.”
“I’m fine,” Brendon lied, absent-mindedly rubbing Ryan’s shoulder. “It said something about yesterday,” he suddenly recalled. “The text.”
“Yeah,” Ryan said, stonily not meeting Brendon’s gaze. “I got a note the night before I got this. After the first time we…”
A sense of foreboding came over Brendon. “Where is it? Do you have it?” His voice was hesitant, as if he wasn’t really sure he wanted to find out.
Ryan’s voice was low. “It’s in my backpack upstairs.”
“I want to read it.”
Ryan turned his head to Brendon’s for the first time, and his light brown eyes were sad and distant, different now from how they had been only minutes ago. “Why? It’s all the same shit.”
“Please.”
Ryan sighed, shifting his eyes away from Brendon as he went to get the note. Brendon stood still for a moment when Ryan had left the room and tried to compose himself fully and not let the underlying fear freak him out like it was threatening to do. Breathe, he told himself, breathe and remember how lucky you are. By the time Ryan had come back down the stairs, Brendon’s facial expression was neutral. He took the white piece of paper offered to him by a silent Ryan and stared at the words.
I know what you did.
I want to make sure it doesn't happen again.
Stay away from Brendon or he will die.
You need to disappear.
Fake your own death, or kill yourself, I don't care.
But you have to go.
Or he dies.
No police.
He'll die.
If you go, he'll live.
Consider this a warning.
It seemed so bizarre reading the glued together letters from magazines and newspapers. Something like it only happened in movies, not real life. Yet, the letter was real in his hands, creased and dog eared after being folded and unfolded numerous times and the color of the magazine letters seemed to have faded slightly during the years. Once again, shivers of fear wrecked through him, but they were easier to hold back this time because Brendon knew he didn’t want Ryan to notice them. After a few moments of staring at the words, hearing their echoes a million times over in his head, he looked up and met Ryan’s worried eyes with steady brown ones. “Thanks for showing me.”
Ryan stared at him, looking hopeless. He started leaning forward, but then seemed to think better of it and reached an arm out instead, lightly touching Brendon’s arm. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Brendon glanced down at the note in his hands, then back up at Ryan. He folded the paper sheet into its original four squares and the white paper looked innocent once more. “I’m glad I know now. This whole thing is worse than I thought, but knowing is better than not.”
Ryan’s lip twitched downwards, and then Brendon was in his arms, cradled by warmth and a faint smell of honey. Ryan was shaking slightly, but Brendon didn’t know if he was crying or if he was cold or if it was something else altogether. He wrapped his arms tightly across Ryan’s naked back, aiming to comfort. “It’s alright,” he said quietly. “It’ll be okay. This shit is all over now, and we’ll be fine. As long as we’re both here, we’ll be all right.”
“Okay,” Ryan replied, his voice sounding choked. He pressed a kiss against Brendon’s neck. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Brendon smiled. “Me too.” As he shifted his arms on Ryan’s back, he noticed the familiar patterned fabric that sat low on Ryan’s thin hips. “You look good in my boxers.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t find mine,” Ryan said.
Brendon leaned back slightly, smiling at the now relaxed face. “My fault. I put your clothes in the washer.”
Ryan made a little nose that caused his nose to twitch. “Yeah, they were pretty gross.”
Brendon kept the smile on his face as he glanced down once again. “You should always wear my clothes.”
Ryan laughed, a clear sound that Brendon hadn’t heard in much too long. He squeezed Ryan tighter, not bothering to disguise the way he was inhaling his scent. They stood like that for a long time, wrapped together in a tight embrace. Brendon wasn’t acting his calm anymore; he was actually feeling anything but fear at the moment. He knew that he had Ryan to thank for that.
That what finally interrupted them was Ryan’s grumbling stomach. Brendon gently pushed Ryan away, smiling as he instructed him that dinner was on the stove.
“I’m not really that hungry,” Ryan tried, but his stomach groaned again.
“Nice try. You go eat and I’ll take a shower,” Brendon decided, wriggling free of Ryan’s firm grip. Ryan hesitated a moment before snatching Brendon back and stealing a kiss before letting him go again.
Brendon went upstairs with a smile plastered to his face and a giddy feeling in his body. He hadn’t forgotten about the horrors he had seen, but it wasn’t like they could touch him now. It had happened four years ago, and whatever inclination someone had had to send them would be dead and stale now. He had to believe that, because having something like this to worry about wasn’t something he could ever do again, not when he had finally thought he was free.
He undressed thinking about Ryan in those swirl patterned navy boxers and saw the image still in his mind as he stepped into the shower cubicle and felt the warm water splash down on him. He knew that he could make something more out of the image if he wanted to, something sexual, but he felt fine with keeping it as it was. There would definitely be time for that later, when Ryan was well enough. But it still didn’t mean that he couldn’t enjoy the image his mind created for him. He stood under the warm spray for a while, his eyes closed and relaxed as the water helped wash away everything that didn’t strictly relate to Ryan and his naked body. He didn’t even notice that he wasn’t alone in the room until a pair of arms wrapped around his waist.
“Hey,” Ryan mumbled, his wet hands sliding across Brendon’s stomach.
Brendon shivered, but the feeling was pleasant. “Hey.”
“Thanks for dinner.”
Brendon bit down on his lip as he felt Ryan come closer against him, pressing himself against Brendon’s wet back. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled, already feeling his conscious mind slip away and something else entirely take over. Ryan’s hands were moving unhurriedly over Brendon’s stomach, leaving the touched skin tingling with something that Brendon hadn’t felt in years.
“Remember how you said that you wanted to wait?”
“Yeah,” Brendon breathed, barely able to focus his mind on something other than Ryan’s hands on his hips.
“Because I’m thinking not.”
“Really?” He didn’t know what he was saying anymore, his sight and all his other senses were focused on Ryan’s warm hands on his skin, the fingers rubbing little circles on Brendon’s prominent hipbones. Whether it was intentional or not, he found himself starting to get hard from the slight motions. If he hadn’t felt Ryan being affected in the same way, he might have been embarrassed.
“Yeah,” Ryan murmured, resting his chin on Brendon’s shoulder. His mouth was so close to Brendon’s ear that he could hear every little sound that Ryan made. Combined with the fingers and the agonizingly slow way he slid them downwards, the lost sensation seemed to take over him completely. “We’re both here now; we both want it. There’s no point in waiting.”
“No point,” Brendon agreed, almost completely gone now. He was so hard he was almost aching and he knew that if he didn’t feel Ryan’s hand on him soon, he’d cry out. “You’re manipulating me,” he managed, having to really concentrate in order to string together one short sentence. He felt Ryan smile against his neck.
“You like this,” Ryan stated, and Brendon closed his eyes as the fingers slowly dragged across the patch of short black hair.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “And so do you.” He felt Ryan smile, and he let his mouth begin to curl into one as well, but it never reached the corners of his mouth. He nearly slipped backwards on the slick floor when Ryan’s hand suddenly wrapped around him, but Ryan’s body was there to hold him up. His knees were trembling by the time the hand was sliding fast up and down the hard shaft. Water was splashing down onto them, making them both slick and wet but it apparently wasn’t enough for Ryan. His hand disappeared for a moment, and Brendon opened his eyes and was about to protest, but then he felt it on him again, slicker and wetter than before with shower crème as makeshift lube. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, leaning back against Ryan’s torso, forcing him to take his weight.
Ryan was smiling and kissing Brendon’s neck as his hand slid back and forth, shifting the pace every now and then. Brendon drew after breath several times as Ryan changed the pressure, stroking only the tip for a few seconds before sliding his hand all the way down to the base. One gasp barely had time to leave his mouth before another one escaped. He could feel how hard Ryan was but in his dazed out state it didn't occur to him to do something about it. Ryan's hand felt amazing after the four year absence and he let himself enjoy it, relaxing and tensing with each of the motions.
Ryan was nipping at the skin of Brendon's neck, working his way towards the ear. “Do you wanna come or do you wanna fuck me?”
The husky tone and warm breath against his ear sent hot shivers down Brendon's spine. Instead of replying, he turned around and gentle steered Ryan to face the wall. He followed Ryan's example and coated himself with more shower crème before holding Ryan's waist with one hand and positioning himself. Ryan grunted and tensed for a moment as Brendon pushed inside, and he made himself slow down, rubbing his hands all over Ryan's chest, hoping to relieve the tension that way.
He stroked Ryan slowly, working him up to his full length as he gently moved forward, moving his hips instead of just pushing. By the time that Ryan’s moans were completely void of pain and filled with only excitement, Brendon felt like he was about to lose his calm. He began to move in earnest, sliding in and out of Ryan with the same eagerness he had felt all those years ago. It was still there, the feeling, the spark. Brendon was sure that since they hadn’t lost it during those four years apart, it would now last for as long as they lived.
He wasn’t rough, but he was insistent as he fucked Ryan and the water that kept pelting them from above made his rhythm more furious, more enjoyable. Ryan’s hands were stretched far up the tiled wall, and Brendon saw his fingers clench the air and scratch the sleek tiles when tiny changes in rhythm or position created the exact right angle for him.
Brendon didn’t last for as long as he wanted to, but he couldn’t help it as he felt the telltale signs of an orgasm approach. He leaned against Ryan’s slightly curved back as he spilled inside him, jerking with each thrust and grunting against Ryan’s hot skin. Brendon held onto him for a while before sliding out. He was about to fall to his knees and finish Ryan off when he noticed with slight surprise that Ryan was limp and the shower wall was splattered with his come.
Ryan caught his lips in a deep kiss before Brendon could utter a single word and they stayed like that for a few minutes, holding each other under the spray of water. Then they wordlessly dried off and fell into bed, side by side.
“It’s about time you told me where you’ve been.” The question came after a few minutes of silence, and seemingly out of the blue, but it had rested on the tip of Brendon’s tongue ever since Ryan had come back. So much had happened that he’d almost forgotten about the question but it slipped out of him now, when both his mind and body were relaxed.
Ryan was quiet for a few moments before his hesitant voice spoke. “I had 150 dollars in cash that night.” He paused, most likely to see if Brendon understood what he was talking about.
Brendon nodded. “Go on.”
Ryan moved slightly next to Brendon, shifting closer. “I emptied my wallet of everything, I just kept the cash. I only brought a few things with me, a pair of underwear, socks, a shirt. I broke a lamp on the way to the door.” He paused again and Brendon felt him swallow. “It was like I was on auto pilot or something; I just did everything like a zombie. You and I had just fought and I’d gotten that video and my mind was just so completely overwhelmed. I can remember everything I did, but not what I was thinking. I guess I just panicked. It was stupid to leave like that but all I could think about was you.” He lifted his head to meet Brendon’s eyes. “I kept seeing that awful video every time I blinked and I just had to get away from…” he broke off.
“It’s okay,” Brendon said automatically, readjusting his hold of Ryan’s back.
“No, it’s not.” Ryan sounded exhausted. He sighed. “There’s no excuse for doing what I did and letting my friends think that I was dead or kidnapped, but… every time I think about it I just don’t understand what was going through my mind, how I could have thought leaving was the right thing to do. It was so irrational but I was terrified that someone was going to hurt you. I wanted to do what the note said and just disappear. I had to disappear. You couldn’t get hurt.”
There were so many things Brendon wanted to say, so much he wanted to question, but the defeated tone of Ryan’s voice and the desperation in it made him made him move the story forward. “What happened then, after you left?”
Ryan drew a long ragged breath. “I went downtown and grabbed a bus. I think I got off in San Diego but I can’t actually remember. I don’t remember anything from that trip.”
“You’ve been in California all this time?” Brendon's voice sounded hollow and he cleared his throat. “I mean, that's so close...”
Ryan shook his head. “No, I only stayed there for a little while. I couldn't afford to get recognized, so I got on another bus, this time to Tijuana. And then Mexico City. That’s where I stayed.”
“You've been in Mexico?”
“Yeah,” Ryan mumbled.
“Well, what happened there?” Brendon prodded.
“Well,” Ryan started and his voice was stronger now. “When I first got there I found a place to stay in one of the more worn down districts, this crappy motel some old guy owned. For the first few weeks, I only went out during the night and then came home to sleep at daybreak. I slept through so many days. I was like a vampire or something. I was miserable and it was really starting to show. You should have seen how skinny I became. It looked sick. I wasn't myself. And then after a while, I started daring myself to go out more when it was light, but never where there were a lot of people. It made me feel better. And then one day I looked at myself in the mirror and didn't recognize myself. I found a job that same day. It was down the street from where I stayed, a small restaurant. I was hired as a cook. A few months after that, I found a studio apartment I could afford. It wasn't much, but it was dry and warm so I was okay. That's pretty much the story.”
“And you’re trying to tell me that no one ever recognized you?” Brendon wondered, his tone sceptical.
“It’s amazing what a beard and long hair can do.” Ryan mumbled.
Brendon pondered this for a moment. He still had questions that Ryan’s compact story telling didn’t answer, but at least he’d been given an overview. There would be time for details later when he wasn’t so tired. Then something very obvious occurred to him. His face darkened. “The bruises?”
Ryan shifted uncomfortably and it was a while before he spoke. “Sometimes I couldn’t pay the rent.” He waited, but Brendon offered no comments. “The landlord was a sick fucking asshole. I had two thirds of the rent one month and when I handed it over I explained to him that he’d have the rest in a few days. He slapped me across the face. He wasn’t that big of a guy but his punch felt like getting hit with a baseball bat. I was in shock afterward. He didn’t say anything, just kicked me out and slammed the door in my face. I came back a few days later with the rest of the rent like I promised but he wouldn’t take it; said I’d already paid. That started something really fucked up. Everything was fine the times I could pay in full - he never bothered me on those times. But when I couldn’t, I’d have to go to him and tell him, or he’d come knocking on my door and asking me where his money was. At first I kept insisting that he’d have his money in a few days but he wouldn’t listen so I stopped that. He was a part time sadist. I let him hit me. I know it was sick but deep down I felt like I deserved it.”
Brendon was silent for a few moments as the horrible images settled in his mind and the disgust on his face turned into pain. He felt such anger at the words he had just listened to, but the pain was more prominent. His thumb and forefinger tipped Ryan’s chin upwards so that they were looking at each other. “No one deserves that, least of all you.”
Ryan smiled a quick smile but didn’t seem to know what to say.
“You’re going to be okay now,” Brendon promised and he was determined to make it true. Vivid images he didn’t want to see were still swirling about in his mind but he closed his eyes on them and focused on inhaling the sweet scent of Ryan’s skin and feeling his hair between his fingers. He felt Ryan’s rhythmic breathing become slower after a while and he too let himself drift off into a calm sleep.
:-:-:-:
Brendon woke up with a jerk from the violent vibrations his cell phone created on his night stand. He grabbed it before Ryan could stir awake next to him and ended the silent ringing by pressing the call button. “Hello?” His voice was thick with sleep.
“Mr. Urie, hi. This is Luke from Mr. Berner's office. I'm calling because Mr. Berner wants to see you this morning. Will ten thirty work for you?”
“Uh, what?” Brendon lay back, feeling confused. He started rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, but after a few moments they shot back up and he suddenly recognized the voice on the line and the mention of his boss's name “Wait, he wants a meeting today?”
“Yes, at ten thirty.”
“Well,” Brendon started, throwing a quick glance at his alarm clock. It was a little after nine. “Couldn't you have called me yesterday or something? This is very last minute.”
“I tried to reach you yesterday,” Luke replied patiently, “but your cell phone was switched off.”
Brendon realized he was right; his phone had been off. He rubbed his eyes again and tried to wake up fully in order to get out of bed. “Well, all right,” he confirmed. “I'll be there.”
“Great. I'll let Mr. Berner know you're coming.”
“Yeah,” Brendon mumbled. “Bye.” He sighed as he cut the call and placed the phone back on the table, then becoming aware of the eyes on him. Ryan was awake. “I didn't mean to wake you,” Brendon said, taking in Ryan's face in the lit up room. The bruise that had shaded his cheek was fading fast and would be completely gone within a few days.
“Is something wrong?”
Brendon made a half hearted shrug. “Just work stuff. I have to see my boss this morning; his secretary just called me.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Brendon yawned and stretched. “Anyway, I should go take a shower.”
Ryan chuckled and his chest shuddered against Brendon's arm. “You took one yesterday; isn't that enough?”
Brendon smirked. “We weren't exactly showering.”
“If I remember correctly there was definitely soap involved,” Ryan commented and grinned when Brendon laughed. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off with a kiss, Brendon's lips curling over Ryan's and his hands pushing the thin sheet down, uncovering Ryan's thin chest. Ryan made a happy sound against Brendon’s mouth and let his hands roam across his back before sliding downwards to the waistband of Brendon’sboxers.
With a groan and a great effort, Brendon pulled away. “I really have to take a shower.”
“Can I join you?”
Brendon hesitated for a second as flashes of the evening before flickered by, but then he shook his head. “If you do I'll definitely miss my meeting.”
Ryan looked disappointed. “I guess I can take care of this myself.” He tugged on his bulge under the sheet.
Brendon smiled at the expression on Ryan's face, then leaned in closer to his face. “I'll be back in two hours tops, then I'll take care of it.” He gave Ryan a gentle kiss on the forehead before he headed for the shower. He was showered and dressed within twenty minutes and could therefore spend another twenty making out with Ryan in the kitchen before he had to leave.
He was reliving the previous night all the while he drove to work and had Ryan's naked body in mind as he nodded to the middle aged receptionist in the lobby and took the elevator to the fifth floor. The bright open space was as sterile and modern as it always had been and the small cubicles set in perfect lines housed equal looking people. Brendon had never really felt like he fit in there, and he’d taken the opportunity to work from home with gratitude and relief. He wasn’t the kind of person anymore to spend the short five minute breaks around the water cooler with a huddle of other employees, discussing the latest graphics program or in-house gossip. He preferred his own company.
He walked right up to the secretary’s desk, feigning the politely interested look he’d pasted onto his face. “Mr. Johnson? I think Mr. Berner wanted to see me?”
The man in the pin-striped suit looked up expectantly. Luke Johnson had a pretty enough face and a personality that didn’t match. He didn’t seem to know the concept of personal space and always stood a just tad too close when in conversation. It wasn’t enough to call him out on, but still close enough that one would take notice. Brendon had always felt uncomfortable around him but wasn’t sure of the main cause. He knew the guy was gay, although it wasn’t too obvious, and he’d given off vibes throughout the years that he supposedly felt Brendon should take as compliments. As Luke had never made a direct move on him, Brendon hadn’t gotten the chance to let him down easy. Instead, every time he stepped onto the fifth floor and came into Luke’s vision, he’d gotten subtly hit on. It annoyed Brendon.
“You know you should call me Luke,” Luke said, adopting an easy smile. “I know I’ve told you before. We’re all friends here.”
Brendon bit back a sour comment and decided for a more profession approach. He motioned toward the closed door of Mr. Berner’s office. “Is he in?”
Luke looked like he was about to say something inappropriate for a moment. He raised one eyebrow slightly and let his gaze slide over Brendon’s body, but then the expression disappeared and he smiled politely. “One moment.” He went to knock on Mr. Berner’s door.
Brendon waited patiently for a few moments as words between Luke and Mr. Berner were exchanged. He unconsciously took a step back from Luke’s desk, eager to get as far away as possible.
Luke turned to him with a coy smile that Brendon was sure hadn’t been there when he’d talked to the boss. “He’s ready for you.”
“Thanks,” Brendon said, quickly walking into the room ahead.
“Good morning Brendon,” said Mr. Berner. “Close the door, please.”
Brendon shut the door and made Luke’s curious face vanish.
“Please sit down.”
Brendon took a seat in a cosy leather armchair in front of his boss’s desk. He was feeling nervous, for some reason, though he couldn’t put his finger on why that was. He’d done all his work, hadn’t he? He didn’t think he’d forgotten anything.
“So,” Mr. Berner started, leaning forward and tying his hands together on the desk. “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here.” The smile on his face seemed ominous.
“Uh, yeah.” Eloquent, Urie. He mentally kicked himself.
Mr. Berner smiled. “Well I’m gonna just cut to the chase. Do you recognize this?” He produced a sheet of paper from out of nowhere and pushed it towards Brendon.
Brendon took a quick look and recognized the symbol immediately. He nodded and opened his mouth to speak but Mr. Berner cut him off.
“This is the logo of the second biggest pharmaceutical company on the North American market.”
Brendon gave a weak nod and tried to rid his face of the sudden bout of irritation he’d felt.
“They are just about to merge with an Asian corporation and they want us to completely re-design their website, using their new logo as inspiration.”
“Wow, that’s-“
“Huge, yes.” Mr Berner smiled again, surveying Brendon. “I want you to do it. I want you in charge. You can pick your own team and arrange your own hours. I know you usually work from home on most of your assignments, but I would advise you to work from the office on this one since you and your team need to work together and will spend a lot of time with each other. Also, I want daily updates on your progress but as I am busy keeping this company running I want you to update Luke at the end of the day instead of me, and then he will inform me. Other than that, you’re in charge of everything.”
Brendon didn’t know what to say. It was a huge opportunity, probably the biggest project he would ever work on, but he knew how much he would have to sacrifice for this. This would take so much time and he just didn’t have it anymore. He had Ryan back now, and there was nothing Brendon would rather do than spend time with him. He smiled a sad smile as he looked up into his boss’s lined face. “This sounds really amazing, Mr. Berner, but I just don’t think I have-“
“You realize that this is the biggest customer this company has ever had?”
“Yes, sir,” Brendon said quickly, and nodded, “and it’s such an honour for me to-“
“Okay,” Mr. Berner said, interrupting and fixing Brendon with a steady stare. “I was hoping not having to go here because of everything that you’ve been through, but you’re giving me no choice.” A brief pause. “If you are to decline leading this project, I’m sure I’ll be able to find someone else to do it in your place.”
Something in his boss’s tone made Brendon raise one eyebrow. “What are you saying?”
“Well,” Mr. Berner said, leaning back in his leather chair and tying his hands together behind his head. “Company policy prevents me from ‘threatening’-“ he made air quotes, “-the employees’ job safety if they are to decline an offer, so I will just say that, in the event that you would decide to pass up on a project, say this one, I’m sure we can find someone else who would gladly fill your position.”
Brendon stared. “You’ll fire me if I say no.” It wasn’t a question.
Mr. Berner smiled. “Your interpretation of my words is you own, but essentially, yes.”
Brendon couldn’t take his eyes off of Mr. Berner’s fake white teeth and the plastic smile that showed them off. “Well then,” he said after a bit, trying to keep his temper as cool as his voice. “I guess I have no choice but to accept.”
“Excellent,” said Mr. Berner, getting up from his chair and reaching out a hand for Brendon to shake. “I know you’ll put your heart and soul into this.”
Brendon thought for a moment about refusing to shake the hand, but he gave in before the thought could really form and before he knew it, he was out of the office and had three plastic binders full of papers in his hands.
“We will go through all of this tomorrow morning, but read everything through for now.” Mr. Berner smiled politely and shut the door.
Brendon just stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door without really seeing it. After a moment, he lifted the shoulder strap of his bag off his shoulder and started filling it with the binders. He was seething. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been this angry. This wasn’t fair; nothing was fair. Why couldn’t this opportunity had come during the years that he’d been alone and miserable and wanted nothing more than for a distraction from everything? Why now that he was finally happy? He didn’t know how good of a job he could make on this now, when his mind was constantly filled with everything Ryan and every moment they were together. He felt distracted and he wasn’t sure if he could ever fully concentrate on work anytime soon. He snapped the clasps on the bag closed and was just about to heave it back onto his shoulder when the felt someone looming over him. He swirled to find Luke observing him from a distance that really was too close.
“Is everything alright?” He wondered, and Brendon recognized the feigned worry in his tone.
He bit his teeth. “It’s fine.” He made to leave, but then felt a hand on his shoulder. For some reason, it sent a thrill of unease down his body.
“I have some dirt on the boss if you want it. It’s good; you could probably use it to even the scales.”
Brendon didn’t turn around as he spoke. “No, thank you.” Then he left hurriedly, not wanting to exchange another word.
Anger was bubbling inside him during the entire car ride home. He couldn’t wait to get back and yell out his frustrations to the one person he knew would make it feel better.
Halfway up his street, he became aware of another car in his driveway, one that definitely hadn’t been there when he left. He squinted, trying to see if he could recognize it, but the shiny red was popular and he’d left his glasses on the coffee table in his living room. A moment later, he didn’t know how he couldn’t have realized. Shane. Brendon gulped, the anger quickly replaced with guilt.
He slid into the narrow space beside Shane’s glossy cherry red Audi. There was a sense of foreboding in his stomach even before the car had come to a full stop. Shane was sitting in the driver’s seat, a quiet little pop ballad floating out of the stereo. Shane smiled as he saw him and Brendon felt a quick pang of guilt as their argument and that sudden, angry goodbye came back to him. He’d barely spared Shane a single thought after that. He tried to tell himself that he’d had a good excuse, but just forgetting about someone who is supposed to be your friend can’t be justified in a simple way like that.
“Hey,” Shane said and gave a little wave before reaching to turn off the radio. Nothing in his tone was guarded or angry and for some reason it made Brendon feel even worse.
“Hi,” he replied carefully. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” Shane said, that gentle half smile that Brendon had come to love adorning his face. “Come over.” He opened the passenger side door to his car and Brendon had no choice but to comply.
He slid out of his seat and slammed his car door, not knowing that to expect as he sat down next to Shane. For a painful moment, all that could be heard was a cramped silence and various noises from outside. Brendon had no idea what to say, although he knew that the word ‘sorry’ should definitely be mentioned. “I thought you left,” he said instead and Shane’s face darkened a tinge.
“Yeah,” he muttered, his gaze sweeping the outside for a moment. “I know you wanted me to but I just couldn’t leave things with you like that. I’ve been staying at a motel.”
Brendon dropped his gaze to his lap and hoped that Shane wouldn’t notice that blush that had flared up on his cheeks. “I’m really sorry,” he said, still not looking up, not daring to meet Shane’s eyes. He felt so ashamed for the things he had said the last time they met. “I didn’t mean to yell at you like that and I don’t know why I did.” Brendon felt Shane looking at him them and Brendon’s own eyes involuntarily met them. He thought, just for a second, that there was something Shane wanted to say, but then he looked away and the moment disappeared.
Shane gave a weak smile. “I know you didn’t mean it, that’s why I came back.”
Brendon’s face stretched into a smile. “Thanks for being awesome. I know I don’t deserve it.”
“Of course you do.”
Brendon felt relieved and kept the smile. “So, are we okay?”
“We’re okay.” Shane nodded. There was a brief pause. “So,” he began uncomfortably. “Have you received anymore postcards?”
Brendon frowned and hoped it wouldn’t show on his face. “No.” He didn’t trust himself to say more about it. Indirectly lying about Ryan wasn’t something Brendon liked to do, but in this case he felt it was the best thing for everyone. At least for the time being.
Shane nodded curtly. “Good. It’s sick to do something like that.”
Brendon didn’t like the conversation. He shifted in his seat and changed the subject. “Do you want to go get a coffee or something?” He asked, starting to pull on the seat belt to fasten it.
“Sure,” Shane replied, but instead of starting the car, he opened the door.
“No, I mean, go out for coffee,” Brendon hurried, his mind suddenly flashing with warning signs of Ryan inside the house.
Shane hesitated and looked at Brendon suspiciously. “You out of it or something?”
“No, I just-“
“Then why can’t we go inside?” He was staring at Brendon intently now.
Brendon struggled with the simple release button for the seat belt. He was suddenly feeling panicked and he knew Shane would be able to see it on his face. “Look, let’s just-“
Shane looked more confused that ever. “Is there… do you have company or something?”
“Yes.” The word came out of him before he could think about it.
“Who is it?” Shane was already out of the car, and Brendon’s panic grew when he couldn’t get free of the constricting strap.
“Shane, wait!” He called, and then his fingers finally hit the release button and the belt slid back to its original place. By the time he had scrambled out of the car, Shane was already at the front door.
Please, please, let Ryan have locked the door after I left, he thought, but his heart sank as the door swung open and Shane entered. “Wait!” Brendon called again, but Shane was already out of sight. Damn, he was fast. He hurried after and followed the sounds of Shane’s feet and then he cringed at the sound of voices.
“Brendon, is that y-“
“You!”
As Brendon came around a corner, he was met with the sight of Shane’s fist colliding with Ryan’s face.
“Shane, what the fuck!” Brendon yelled, rushing over to Ryan who was bending over forward, moaning loudly and clutching his nose with his hand. Brendon could see the red slipping between his fingers. He angrily looked back at Shane, ready to throw him a nasty insult when Shane’s face made Brendon lose all of his words.
There was definitely still anger on Shane’s face, but most of it was overshadowed by so much hurt and accusation that Brendon felt something inside him break. It was his fault for not telling Shane. All his fault.
Shane opened his mouth and Brendon could clearly see how his lips trembled. “If you wanna talk,” he said slowly, his eyes glaring into Brendon’s, “then you will have to come to me. I’m done always being the one who gives in!” His voice cracked with the last syllable and it was what seemed to cause his eyes to start running.
Brendon had almost never seen Shane cry before and the experience was somewhat shocking. “Shane,” he moaned pathetically, but Shane was already turning away and heading out of the house. “Shane!” Brendon called again, but was ignored once more. It was probably just as well, since Brendon had no idea what to say.
“What the fuck are you still doing with him?!”
Brendon jerked and immediately focused on Ryan’s furious face and the tone of voice he’d very rarely heard.
“What?” His own voice was bleak.
“Why are you still friends with him?”
Brendon crossed his arms tight over his chest. Suddenly, he wasn’t feeling all that bad for Ryan and his busted face; instead there was a certain measure of defiance in his voice. “What do you mean? Shane’s my friend.”
“He just punched me!” Ryan exclaimed, removing his hand and showing off his bloody nose. “What a fucking psychopath!”
Brendon was too exhausted to argue like he wanted. He sank down onto a kitchen chair and let his head drop into his arms as he heard Ryan bustle about the kitchen and clean himself up under the tap.
Brendon had thought that if Ryan would just magically appear again, every problem, all the shit in his life, would go away and never come back.
He never would have guessed that his biggest problems would come with Ryan’s reappearance.
Author: Chionophobia
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan
POV: Brendon
Word Count: 6807
Summary: Four years ago after a critically acclaimed world wide tour, the Panic At The Disco guitarist Ryan Ross disappeared from his hotel room, leaving no trace as to where he had gone. A few drops of blood and a broken lamp made the police conduct the disappearance as abduction, yet they were never able to find Ryan or make much progress on the matter. Meanwhile the police struggled to find Ryan or his kidnapper, Brendon Urie started his own investigation, an enquiry that after four years had yielded next to nothing, until one day, with the arriving of a postcard.
Disclaimer: This never happened.
Beta theliffey
Previous chapters: Here
Notes: I'm so sorry this has taken so long, but work and RL have been crazy lately.
Chapter Ten
Everything in Brendon's immediate vision was starting to spin.
His eyes were glued to the screen and the horrific red line stretched over the image of himself, but everything in the corners of his eyes seemed to move around. It made him dizzy. He forced himself to look away from the screen, just as the video stopped and left nothing but blank blackness in front of them.
Ryan was biting on his nails, his eyes still plastered to the dark rectangle. Brendon made himself shake out of the weird bubble he felt trapped in and reached down and placed a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan didn’t seem to notice.
“How did you get this?” Brendon asked, his voice surprisingly strong.
“I don’t know,” Ryan whispered. His eyes were still stuck to the screen and wouldn’t budge. “Zack brought it to me when I was in the car to go to the hotel after the show. There was a pack of gifts from fans, you know, letters, stuffed animals, CDs. Stuff like that. And this.” He ejected the DVD, but didn’t remove it, just kept staring at it.
Brendon looked at the black screen and tried to untangle his thoughts, but it was like the image was clawing itself stuck, because all he could see was that blood red line across his throat. He had to blink several times just to get the picture out of his mind. “It’s going to be okay,” he assured Ryan, who was sitting so still that he might have been a sculpture.
Ryan drew a shaky breath and seemed to slip out of his frozen state. “I should be the one telling you that.”
“I’m fine,” Brendon lied, absent-mindedly rubbing Ryan’s shoulder. “It said something about yesterday,” he suddenly recalled. “The text.”
“Yeah,” Ryan said, stonily not meeting Brendon’s gaze. “I got a note the night before I got this. After the first time we…”
A sense of foreboding came over Brendon. “Where is it? Do you have it?” His voice was hesitant, as if he wasn’t really sure he wanted to find out.
Ryan’s voice was low. “It’s in my backpack upstairs.”
“I want to read it.”
Ryan turned his head to Brendon’s for the first time, and his light brown eyes were sad and distant, different now from how they had been only minutes ago. “Why? It’s all the same shit.”
“Please.”
Ryan sighed, shifting his eyes away from Brendon as he went to get the note. Brendon stood still for a moment when Ryan had left the room and tried to compose himself fully and not let the underlying fear freak him out like it was threatening to do. Breathe, he told himself, breathe and remember how lucky you are. By the time Ryan had come back down the stairs, Brendon’s facial expression was neutral. He took the white piece of paper offered to him by a silent Ryan and stared at the words.
I know what you did.
I want to make sure it doesn't happen again.
Stay away from Brendon or he will die.
You need to disappear.
Fake your own death, or kill yourself, I don't care.
But you have to go.
Or he dies.
No police.
He'll die.
If you go, he'll live.
Consider this a warning.
It seemed so bizarre reading the glued together letters from magazines and newspapers. Something like it only happened in movies, not real life. Yet, the letter was real in his hands, creased and dog eared after being folded and unfolded numerous times and the color of the magazine letters seemed to have faded slightly during the years. Once again, shivers of fear wrecked through him, but they were easier to hold back this time because Brendon knew he didn’t want Ryan to notice them. After a few moments of staring at the words, hearing their echoes a million times over in his head, he looked up and met Ryan’s worried eyes with steady brown ones. “Thanks for showing me.”
Ryan stared at him, looking hopeless. He started leaning forward, but then seemed to think better of it and reached an arm out instead, lightly touching Brendon’s arm. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Brendon glanced down at the note in his hands, then back up at Ryan. He folded the paper sheet into its original four squares and the white paper looked innocent once more. “I’m glad I know now. This whole thing is worse than I thought, but knowing is better than not.”
Ryan’s lip twitched downwards, and then Brendon was in his arms, cradled by warmth and a faint smell of honey. Ryan was shaking slightly, but Brendon didn’t know if he was crying or if he was cold or if it was something else altogether. He wrapped his arms tightly across Ryan’s naked back, aiming to comfort. “It’s alright,” he said quietly. “It’ll be okay. This shit is all over now, and we’ll be fine. As long as we’re both here, we’ll be all right.”
“Okay,” Ryan replied, his voice sounding choked. He pressed a kiss against Brendon’s neck. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Brendon smiled. “Me too.” As he shifted his arms on Ryan’s back, he noticed the familiar patterned fabric that sat low on Ryan’s thin hips. “You look good in my boxers.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t find mine,” Ryan said.
Brendon leaned back slightly, smiling at the now relaxed face. “My fault. I put your clothes in the washer.”
Ryan made a little nose that caused his nose to twitch. “Yeah, they were pretty gross.”
Brendon kept the smile on his face as he glanced down once again. “You should always wear my clothes.”
Ryan laughed, a clear sound that Brendon hadn’t heard in much too long. He squeezed Ryan tighter, not bothering to disguise the way he was inhaling his scent. They stood like that for a long time, wrapped together in a tight embrace. Brendon wasn’t acting his calm anymore; he was actually feeling anything but fear at the moment. He knew that he had Ryan to thank for that.
That what finally interrupted them was Ryan’s grumbling stomach. Brendon gently pushed Ryan away, smiling as he instructed him that dinner was on the stove.
“I’m not really that hungry,” Ryan tried, but his stomach groaned again.
“Nice try. You go eat and I’ll take a shower,” Brendon decided, wriggling free of Ryan’s firm grip. Ryan hesitated a moment before snatching Brendon back and stealing a kiss before letting him go again.
Brendon went upstairs with a smile plastered to his face and a giddy feeling in his body. He hadn’t forgotten about the horrors he had seen, but it wasn’t like they could touch him now. It had happened four years ago, and whatever inclination someone had had to send them would be dead and stale now. He had to believe that, because having something like this to worry about wasn’t something he could ever do again, not when he had finally thought he was free.
He undressed thinking about Ryan in those swirl patterned navy boxers and saw the image still in his mind as he stepped into the shower cubicle and felt the warm water splash down on him. He knew that he could make something more out of the image if he wanted to, something sexual, but he felt fine with keeping it as it was. There would definitely be time for that later, when Ryan was well enough. But it still didn’t mean that he couldn’t enjoy the image his mind created for him. He stood under the warm spray for a while, his eyes closed and relaxed as the water helped wash away everything that didn’t strictly relate to Ryan and his naked body. He didn’t even notice that he wasn’t alone in the room until a pair of arms wrapped around his waist.
“Hey,” Ryan mumbled, his wet hands sliding across Brendon’s stomach.
Brendon shivered, but the feeling was pleasant. “Hey.”
“Thanks for dinner.”
Brendon bit down on his lip as he felt Ryan come closer against him, pressing himself against Brendon’s wet back. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled, already feeling his conscious mind slip away and something else entirely take over. Ryan’s hands were moving unhurriedly over Brendon’s stomach, leaving the touched skin tingling with something that Brendon hadn’t felt in years.
“Remember how you said that you wanted to wait?”
“Yeah,” Brendon breathed, barely able to focus his mind on something other than Ryan’s hands on his hips.
“Because I’m thinking not.”
“Really?” He didn’t know what he was saying anymore, his sight and all his other senses were focused on Ryan’s warm hands on his skin, the fingers rubbing little circles on Brendon’s prominent hipbones. Whether it was intentional or not, he found himself starting to get hard from the slight motions. If he hadn’t felt Ryan being affected in the same way, he might have been embarrassed.
“Yeah,” Ryan murmured, resting his chin on Brendon’s shoulder. His mouth was so close to Brendon’s ear that he could hear every little sound that Ryan made. Combined with the fingers and the agonizingly slow way he slid them downwards, the lost sensation seemed to take over him completely. “We’re both here now; we both want it. There’s no point in waiting.”
“No point,” Brendon agreed, almost completely gone now. He was so hard he was almost aching and he knew that if he didn’t feel Ryan’s hand on him soon, he’d cry out. “You’re manipulating me,” he managed, having to really concentrate in order to string together one short sentence. He felt Ryan smile against his neck.
“You like this,” Ryan stated, and Brendon closed his eyes as the fingers slowly dragged across the patch of short black hair.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “And so do you.” He felt Ryan smile, and he let his mouth begin to curl into one as well, but it never reached the corners of his mouth. He nearly slipped backwards on the slick floor when Ryan’s hand suddenly wrapped around him, but Ryan’s body was there to hold him up. His knees were trembling by the time the hand was sliding fast up and down the hard shaft. Water was splashing down onto them, making them both slick and wet but it apparently wasn’t enough for Ryan. His hand disappeared for a moment, and Brendon opened his eyes and was about to protest, but then he felt it on him again, slicker and wetter than before with shower crème as makeshift lube. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, leaning back against Ryan’s torso, forcing him to take his weight.
Ryan was smiling and kissing Brendon’s neck as his hand slid back and forth, shifting the pace every now and then. Brendon drew after breath several times as Ryan changed the pressure, stroking only the tip for a few seconds before sliding his hand all the way down to the base. One gasp barely had time to leave his mouth before another one escaped. He could feel how hard Ryan was but in his dazed out state it didn't occur to him to do something about it. Ryan's hand felt amazing after the four year absence and he let himself enjoy it, relaxing and tensing with each of the motions.
Ryan was nipping at the skin of Brendon's neck, working his way towards the ear. “Do you wanna come or do you wanna fuck me?”
The husky tone and warm breath against his ear sent hot shivers down Brendon's spine. Instead of replying, he turned around and gentle steered Ryan to face the wall. He followed Ryan's example and coated himself with more shower crème before holding Ryan's waist with one hand and positioning himself. Ryan grunted and tensed for a moment as Brendon pushed inside, and he made himself slow down, rubbing his hands all over Ryan's chest, hoping to relieve the tension that way.
He stroked Ryan slowly, working him up to his full length as he gently moved forward, moving his hips instead of just pushing. By the time that Ryan’s moans were completely void of pain and filled with only excitement, Brendon felt like he was about to lose his calm. He began to move in earnest, sliding in and out of Ryan with the same eagerness he had felt all those years ago. It was still there, the feeling, the spark. Brendon was sure that since they hadn’t lost it during those four years apart, it would now last for as long as they lived.
He wasn’t rough, but he was insistent as he fucked Ryan and the water that kept pelting them from above made his rhythm more furious, more enjoyable. Ryan’s hands were stretched far up the tiled wall, and Brendon saw his fingers clench the air and scratch the sleek tiles when tiny changes in rhythm or position created the exact right angle for him.
Brendon didn’t last for as long as he wanted to, but he couldn’t help it as he felt the telltale signs of an orgasm approach. He leaned against Ryan’s slightly curved back as he spilled inside him, jerking with each thrust and grunting against Ryan’s hot skin. Brendon held onto him for a while before sliding out. He was about to fall to his knees and finish Ryan off when he noticed with slight surprise that Ryan was limp and the shower wall was splattered with his come.
Ryan caught his lips in a deep kiss before Brendon could utter a single word and they stayed like that for a few minutes, holding each other under the spray of water. Then they wordlessly dried off and fell into bed, side by side.
“It’s about time you told me where you’ve been.” The question came after a few minutes of silence, and seemingly out of the blue, but it had rested on the tip of Brendon’s tongue ever since Ryan had come back. So much had happened that he’d almost forgotten about the question but it slipped out of him now, when both his mind and body were relaxed.
Ryan was quiet for a few moments before his hesitant voice spoke. “I had 150 dollars in cash that night.” He paused, most likely to see if Brendon understood what he was talking about.
Brendon nodded. “Go on.”
Ryan moved slightly next to Brendon, shifting closer. “I emptied my wallet of everything, I just kept the cash. I only brought a few things with me, a pair of underwear, socks, a shirt. I broke a lamp on the way to the door.” He paused again and Brendon felt him swallow. “It was like I was on auto pilot or something; I just did everything like a zombie. You and I had just fought and I’d gotten that video and my mind was just so completely overwhelmed. I can remember everything I did, but not what I was thinking. I guess I just panicked. It was stupid to leave like that but all I could think about was you.” He lifted his head to meet Brendon’s eyes. “I kept seeing that awful video every time I blinked and I just had to get away from…” he broke off.
“It’s okay,” Brendon said automatically, readjusting his hold of Ryan’s back.
“No, it’s not.” Ryan sounded exhausted. He sighed. “There’s no excuse for doing what I did and letting my friends think that I was dead or kidnapped, but… every time I think about it I just don’t understand what was going through my mind, how I could have thought leaving was the right thing to do. It was so irrational but I was terrified that someone was going to hurt you. I wanted to do what the note said and just disappear. I had to disappear. You couldn’t get hurt.”
There were so many things Brendon wanted to say, so much he wanted to question, but the defeated tone of Ryan’s voice and the desperation in it made him made him move the story forward. “What happened then, after you left?”
Ryan drew a long ragged breath. “I went downtown and grabbed a bus. I think I got off in San Diego but I can’t actually remember. I don’t remember anything from that trip.”
“You’ve been in California all this time?” Brendon's voice sounded hollow and he cleared his throat. “I mean, that's so close...”
Ryan shook his head. “No, I only stayed there for a little while. I couldn't afford to get recognized, so I got on another bus, this time to Tijuana. And then Mexico City. That’s where I stayed.”
“You've been in Mexico?”
“Yeah,” Ryan mumbled.
“Well, what happened there?” Brendon prodded.
“Well,” Ryan started and his voice was stronger now. “When I first got there I found a place to stay in one of the more worn down districts, this crappy motel some old guy owned. For the first few weeks, I only went out during the night and then came home to sleep at daybreak. I slept through so many days. I was like a vampire or something. I was miserable and it was really starting to show. You should have seen how skinny I became. It looked sick. I wasn't myself. And then after a while, I started daring myself to go out more when it was light, but never where there were a lot of people. It made me feel better. And then one day I looked at myself in the mirror and didn't recognize myself. I found a job that same day. It was down the street from where I stayed, a small restaurant. I was hired as a cook. A few months after that, I found a studio apartment I could afford. It wasn't much, but it was dry and warm so I was okay. That's pretty much the story.”
“And you’re trying to tell me that no one ever recognized you?” Brendon wondered, his tone sceptical.
“It’s amazing what a beard and long hair can do.” Ryan mumbled.
Brendon pondered this for a moment. He still had questions that Ryan’s compact story telling didn’t answer, but at least he’d been given an overview. There would be time for details later when he wasn’t so tired. Then something very obvious occurred to him. His face darkened. “The bruises?”
Ryan shifted uncomfortably and it was a while before he spoke. “Sometimes I couldn’t pay the rent.” He waited, but Brendon offered no comments. “The landlord was a sick fucking asshole. I had two thirds of the rent one month and when I handed it over I explained to him that he’d have the rest in a few days. He slapped me across the face. He wasn’t that big of a guy but his punch felt like getting hit with a baseball bat. I was in shock afterward. He didn’t say anything, just kicked me out and slammed the door in my face. I came back a few days later with the rest of the rent like I promised but he wouldn’t take it; said I’d already paid. That started something really fucked up. Everything was fine the times I could pay in full - he never bothered me on those times. But when I couldn’t, I’d have to go to him and tell him, or he’d come knocking on my door and asking me where his money was. At first I kept insisting that he’d have his money in a few days but he wouldn’t listen so I stopped that. He was a part time sadist. I let him hit me. I know it was sick but deep down I felt like I deserved it.”
Brendon was silent for a few moments as the horrible images settled in his mind and the disgust on his face turned into pain. He felt such anger at the words he had just listened to, but the pain was more prominent. His thumb and forefinger tipped Ryan’s chin upwards so that they were looking at each other. “No one deserves that, least of all you.”
Ryan smiled a quick smile but didn’t seem to know what to say.
“You’re going to be okay now,” Brendon promised and he was determined to make it true. Vivid images he didn’t want to see were still swirling about in his mind but he closed his eyes on them and focused on inhaling the sweet scent of Ryan’s skin and feeling his hair between his fingers. He felt Ryan’s rhythmic breathing become slower after a while and he too let himself drift off into a calm sleep.
:-:-:-:
Brendon woke up with a jerk from the violent vibrations his cell phone created on his night stand. He grabbed it before Ryan could stir awake next to him and ended the silent ringing by pressing the call button. “Hello?” His voice was thick with sleep.
“Mr. Urie, hi. This is Luke from Mr. Berner's office. I'm calling because Mr. Berner wants to see you this morning. Will ten thirty work for you?”
“Uh, what?” Brendon lay back, feeling confused. He started rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, but after a few moments they shot back up and he suddenly recognized the voice on the line and the mention of his boss's name “Wait, he wants a meeting today?”
“Yes, at ten thirty.”
“Well,” Brendon started, throwing a quick glance at his alarm clock. It was a little after nine. “Couldn't you have called me yesterday or something? This is very last minute.”
“I tried to reach you yesterday,” Luke replied patiently, “but your cell phone was switched off.”
Brendon realized he was right; his phone had been off. He rubbed his eyes again and tried to wake up fully in order to get out of bed. “Well, all right,” he confirmed. “I'll be there.”
“Great. I'll let Mr. Berner know you're coming.”
“Yeah,” Brendon mumbled. “Bye.” He sighed as he cut the call and placed the phone back on the table, then becoming aware of the eyes on him. Ryan was awake. “I didn't mean to wake you,” Brendon said, taking in Ryan's face in the lit up room. The bruise that had shaded his cheek was fading fast and would be completely gone within a few days.
“Is something wrong?”
Brendon made a half hearted shrug. “Just work stuff. I have to see my boss this morning; his secretary just called me.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Brendon yawned and stretched. “Anyway, I should go take a shower.”
Ryan chuckled and his chest shuddered against Brendon's arm. “You took one yesterday; isn't that enough?”
Brendon smirked. “We weren't exactly showering.”
“If I remember correctly there was definitely soap involved,” Ryan commented and grinned when Brendon laughed. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off with a kiss, Brendon's lips curling over Ryan's and his hands pushing the thin sheet down, uncovering Ryan's thin chest. Ryan made a happy sound against Brendon’s mouth and let his hands roam across his back before sliding downwards to the waistband of Brendon’sboxers.
With a groan and a great effort, Brendon pulled away. “I really have to take a shower.”
“Can I join you?”
Brendon hesitated for a second as flashes of the evening before flickered by, but then he shook his head. “If you do I'll definitely miss my meeting.”
Ryan looked disappointed. “I guess I can take care of this myself.” He tugged on his bulge under the sheet.
Brendon smiled at the expression on Ryan's face, then leaned in closer to his face. “I'll be back in two hours tops, then I'll take care of it.” He gave Ryan a gentle kiss on the forehead before he headed for the shower. He was showered and dressed within twenty minutes and could therefore spend another twenty making out with Ryan in the kitchen before he had to leave.
He was reliving the previous night all the while he drove to work and had Ryan's naked body in mind as he nodded to the middle aged receptionist in the lobby and took the elevator to the fifth floor. The bright open space was as sterile and modern as it always had been and the small cubicles set in perfect lines housed equal looking people. Brendon had never really felt like he fit in there, and he’d taken the opportunity to work from home with gratitude and relief. He wasn’t the kind of person anymore to spend the short five minute breaks around the water cooler with a huddle of other employees, discussing the latest graphics program or in-house gossip. He preferred his own company.
He walked right up to the secretary’s desk, feigning the politely interested look he’d pasted onto his face. “Mr. Johnson? I think Mr. Berner wanted to see me?”
The man in the pin-striped suit looked up expectantly. Luke Johnson had a pretty enough face and a personality that didn’t match. He didn’t seem to know the concept of personal space and always stood a just tad too close when in conversation. It wasn’t enough to call him out on, but still close enough that one would take notice. Brendon had always felt uncomfortable around him but wasn’t sure of the main cause. He knew the guy was gay, although it wasn’t too obvious, and he’d given off vibes throughout the years that he supposedly felt Brendon should take as compliments. As Luke had never made a direct move on him, Brendon hadn’t gotten the chance to let him down easy. Instead, every time he stepped onto the fifth floor and came into Luke’s vision, he’d gotten subtly hit on. It annoyed Brendon.
“You know you should call me Luke,” Luke said, adopting an easy smile. “I know I’ve told you before. We’re all friends here.”
Brendon bit back a sour comment and decided for a more profession approach. He motioned toward the closed door of Mr. Berner’s office. “Is he in?”
Luke looked like he was about to say something inappropriate for a moment. He raised one eyebrow slightly and let his gaze slide over Brendon’s body, but then the expression disappeared and he smiled politely. “One moment.” He went to knock on Mr. Berner’s door.
Brendon waited patiently for a few moments as words between Luke and Mr. Berner were exchanged. He unconsciously took a step back from Luke’s desk, eager to get as far away as possible.
Luke turned to him with a coy smile that Brendon was sure hadn’t been there when he’d talked to the boss. “He’s ready for you.”
“Thanks,” Brendon said, quickly walking into the room ahead.
“Good morning Brendon,” said Mr. Berner. “Close the door, please.”
Brendon shut the door and made Luke’s curious face vanish.
“Please sit down.”
Brendon took a seat in a cosy leather armchair in front of his boss’s desk. He was feeling nervous, for some reason, though he couldn’t put his finger on why that was. He’d done all his work, hadn’t he? He didn’t think he’d forgotten anything.
“So,” Mr. Berner started, leaning forward and tying his hands together on the desk. “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here.” The smile on his face seemed ominous.
“Uh, yeah.” Eloquent, Urie. He mentally kicked himself.
Mr. Berner smiled. “Well I’m gonna just cut to the chase. Do you recognize this?” He produced a sheet of paper from out of nowhere and pushed it towards Brendon.
Brendon took a quick look and recognized the symbol immediately. He nodded and opened his mouth to speak but Mr. Berner cut him off.
“This is the logo of the second biggest pharmaceutical company on the North American market.”
Brendon gave a weak nod and tried to rid his face of the sudden bout of irritation he’d felt.
“They are just about to merge with an Asian corporation and they want us to completely re-design their website, using their new logo as inspiration.”
“Wow, that’s-“
“Huge, yes.” Mr Berner smiled again, surveying Brendon. “I want you to do it. I want you in charge. You can pick your own team and arrange your own hours. I know you usually work from home on most of your assignments, but I would advise you to work from the office on this one since you and your team need to work together and will spend a lot of time with each other. Also, I want daily updates on your progress but as I am busy keeping this company running I want you to update Luke at the end of the day instead of me, and then he will inform me. Other than that, you’re in charge of everything.”
Brendon didn’t know what to say. It was a huge opportunity, probably the biggest project he would ever work on, but he knew how much he would have to sacrifice for this. This would take so much time and he just didn’t have it anymore. He had Ryan back now, and there was nothing Brendon would rather do than spend time with him. He smiled a sad smile as he looked up into his boss’s lined face. “This sounds really amazing, Mr. Berner, but I just don’t think I have-“
“You realize that this is the biggest customer this company has ever had?”
“Yes, sir,” Brendon said quickly, and nodded, “and it’s such an honour for me to-“
“Okay,” Mr. Berner said, interrupting and fixing Brendon with a steady stare. “I was hoping not having to go here because of everything that you’ve been through, but you’re giving me no choice.” A brief pause. “If you are to decline leading this project, I’m sure I’ll be able to find someone else to do it in your place.”
Something in his boss’s tone made Brendon raise one eyebrow. “What are you saying?”
“Well,” Mr. Berner said, leaning back in his leather chair and tying his hands together behind his head. “Company policy prevents me from ‘threatening’-“ he made air quotes, “-the employees’ job safety if they are to decline an offer, so I will just say that, in the event that you would decide to pass up on a project, say this one, I’m sure we can find someone else who would gladly fill your position.”
Brendon stared. “You’ll fire me if I say no.” It wasn’t a question.
Mr. Berner smiled. “Your interpretation of my words is you own, but essentially, yes.”
Brendon couldn’t take his eyes off of Mr. Berner’s fake white teeth and the plastic smile that showed them off. “Well then,” he said after a bit, trying to keep his temper as cool as his voice. “I guess I have no choice but to accept.”
“Excellent,” said Mr. Berner, getting up from his chair and reaching out a hand for Brendon to shake. “I know you’ll put your heart and soul into this.”
Brendon thought for a moment about refusing to shake the hand, but he gave in before the thought could really form and before he knew it, he was out of the office and had three plastic binders full of papers in his hands.
“We will go through all of this tomorrow morning, but read everything through for now.” Mr. Berner smiled politely and shut the door.
Brendon just stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door without really seeing it. After a moment, he lifted the shoulder strap of his bag off his shoulder and started filling it with the binders. He was seething. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been this angry. This wasn’t fair; nothing was fair. Why couldn’t this opportunity had come during the years that he’d been alone and miserable and wanted nothing more than for a distraction from everything? Why now that he was finally happy? He didn’t know how good of a job he could make on this now, when his mind was constantly filled with everything Ryan and every moment they were together. He felt distracted and he wasn’t sure if he could ever fully concentrate on work anytime soon. He snapped the clasps on the bag closed and was just about to heave it back onto his shoulder when the felt someone looming over him. He swirled to find Luke observing him from a distance that really was too close.
“Is everything alright?” He wondered, and Brendon recognized the feigned worry in his tone.
He bit his teeth. “It’s fine.” He made to leave, but then felt a hand on his shoulder. For some reason, it sent a thrill of unease down his body.
“I have some dirt on the boss if you want it. It’s good; you could probably use it to even the scales.”
Brendon didn’t turn around as he spoke. “No, thank you.” Then he left hurriedly, not wanting to exchange another word.
Anger was bubbling inside him during the entire car ride home. He couldn’t wait to get back and yell out his frustrations to the one person he knew would make it feel better.
Halfway up his street, he became aware of another car in his driveway, one that definitely hadn’t been there when he left. He squinted, trying to see if he could recognize it, but the shiny red was popular and he’d left his glasses on the coffee table in his living room. A moment later, he didn’t know how he couldn’t have realized. Shane. Brendon gulped, the anger quickly replaced with guilt.
He slid into the narrow space beside Shane’s glossy cherry red Audi. There was a sense of foreboding in his stomach even before the car had come to a full stop. Shane was sitting in the driver’s seat, a quiet little pop ballad floating out of the stereo. Shane smiled as he saw him and Brendon felt a quick pang of guilt as their argument and that sudden, angry goodbye came back to him. He’d barely spared Shane a single thought after that. He tried to tell himself that he’d had a good excuse, but just forgetting about someone who is supposed to be your friend can’t be justified in a simple way like that.
“Hey,” Shane said and gave a little wave before reaching to turn off the radio. Nothing in his tone was guarded or angry and for some reason it made Brendon feel even worse.
“Hi,” he replied carefully. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” Shane said, that gentle half smile that Brendon had come to love adorning his face. “Come over.” He opened the passenger side door to his car and Brendon had no choice but to comply.
He slid out of his seat and slammed his car door, not knowing that to expect as he sat down next to Shane. For a painful moment, all that could be heard was a cramped silence and various noises from outside. Brendon had no idea what to say, although he knew that the word ‘sorry’ should definitely be mentioned. “I thought you left,” he said instead and Shane’s face darkened a tinge.
“Yeah,” he muttered, his gaze sweeping the outside for a moment. “I know you wanted me to but I just couldn’t leave things with you like that. I’ve been staying at a motel.”
Brendon dropped his gaze to his lap and hoped that Shane wouldn’t notice that blush that had flared up on his cheeks. “I’m really sorry,” he said, still not looking up, not daring to meet Shane’s eyes. He felt so ashamed for the things he had said the last time they met. “I didn’t mean to yell at you like that and I don’t know why I did.” Brendon felt Shane looking at him them and Brendon’s own eyes involuntarily met them. He thought, just for a second, that there was something Shane wanted to say, but then he looked away and the moment disappeared.
Shane gave a weak smile. “I know you didn’t mean it, that’s why I came back.”
Brendon’s face stretched into a smile. “Thanks for being awesome. I know I don’t deserve it.”
“Of course you do.”
Brendon felt relieved and kept the smile. “So, are we okay?”
“We’re okay.” Shane nodded. There was a brief pause. “So,” he began uncomfortably. “Have you received anymore postcards?”
Brendon frowned and hoped it wouldn’t show on his face. “No.” He didn’t trust himself to say more about it. Indirectly lying about Ryan wasn’t something Brendon liked to do, but in this case he felt it was the best thing for everyone. At least for the time being.
Shane nodded curtly. “Good. It’s sick to do something like that.”
Brendon didn’t like the conversation. He shifted in his seat and changed the subject. “Do you want to go get a coffee or something?” He asked, starting to pull on the seat belt to fasten it.
“Sure,” Shane replied, but instead of starting the car, he opened the door.
“No, I mean, go out for coffee,” Brendon hurried, his mind suddenly flashing with warning signs of Ryan inside the house.
Shane hesitated and looked at Brendon suspiciously. “You out of it or something?”
“No, I just-“
“Then why can’t we go inside?” He was staring at Brendon intently now.
Brendon struggled with the simple release button for the seat belt. He was suddenly feeling panicked and he knew Shane would be able to see it on his face. “Look, let’s just-“
Shane looked more confused that ever. “Is there… do you have company or something?”
“Yes.” The word came out of him before he could think about it.
“Who is it?” Shane was already out of the car, and Brendon’s panic grew when he couldn’t get free of the constricting strap.
“Shane, wait!” He called, and then his fingers finally hit the release button and the belt slid back to its original place. By the time he had scrambled out of the car, Shane was already at the front door.
Please, please, let Ryan have locked the door after I left, he thought, but his heart sank as the door swung open and Shane entered. “Wait!” Brendon called again, but Shane was already out of sight. Damn, he was fast. He hurried after and followed the sounds of Shane’s feet and then he cringed at the sound of voices.
“Brendon, is that y-“
“You!”
As Brendon came around a corner, he was met with the sight of Shane’s fist colliding with Ryan’s face.
“Shane, what the fuck!” Brendon yelled, rushing over to Ryan who was bending over forward, moaning loudly and clutching his nose with his hand. Brendon could see the red slipping between his fingers. He angrily looked back at Shane, ready to throw him a nasty insult when Shane’s face made Brendon lose all of his words.
There was definitely still anger on Shane’s face, but most of it was overshadowed by so much hurt and accusation that Brendon felt something inside him break. It was his fault for not telling Shane. All his fault.
Shane opened his mouth and Brendon could clearly see how his lips trembled. “If you wanna talk,” he said slowly, his eyes glaring into Brendon’s, “then you will have to come to me. I’m done always being the one who gives in!” His voice cracked with the last syllable and it was what seemed to cause his eyes to start running.
Brendon had almost never seen Shane cry before and the experience was somewhat shocking. “Shane,” he moaned pathetically, but Shane was already turning away and heading out of the house. “Shane!” Brendon called again, but was ignored once more. It was probably just as well, since Brendon had no idea what to say.
“What the fuck are you still doing with him?!”
Brendon jerked and immediately focused on Ryan’s furious face and the tone of voice he’d very rarely heard.
“What?” His own voice was bleak.
“Why are you still friends with him?”
Brendon crossed his arms tight over his chest. Suddenly, he wasn’t feeling all that bad for Ryan and his busted face; instead there was a certain measure of defiance in his voice. “What do you mean? Shane’s my friend.”
“He just punched me!” Ryan exclaimed, removing his hand and showing off his bloody nose. “What a fucking psychopath!”
Brendon was too exhausted to argue like he wanted. He sank down onto a kitchen chair and let his head drop into his arms as he heard Ryan bustle about the kitchen and clean himself up under the tap.
Brendon had thought that if Ryan would just magically appear again, every problem, all the shit in his life, would go away and never come back.
He never would have guessed that his biggest problems would come with Ryan’s reappearance.