Ghost!Brendon/Ryan
Title: Morts ou Vivants [Ch. 1/?]
Author: Meeeee! cobrapandemic
Beta: mikeycway
Summary: Brendon should have listened to Travie. Now he’s dead too.
Pairing: ghost!Brendon/Ryan, eventual Spencer/Jon
Words: 2,654
A/N: This is based on a dream I had. I hope you love it!
RYAN:
Ryan highlights, underlines and re-highlights the advertisement in the local real estate paper. Having been searching for the perfect place for months Ryan's beginning to grow weary. He wants to just move out of his fathers old home. It holds too many dark memories. Too many sleepless nights. Ryan can't take it.
Spencer, Ryan's best friend since they were five, had told Ryan about these condos. Glenn Lakes they're called. Very clean, very modern and very expensive. Ryan is beginning to think he can't possibly afford a place like this on a Starbucks salary but, as if by God, he sees a bold printed add:
*GLENN LAKES* 2 BEDROOMS. 2 BATHROOMS. LUXURIOUS KITCHENETTE. WASHER/DRYER INSTALLED. FULLY FURNISHED. $975/MONTH. CALL: 555-1967
"No shit..." Ryan says to himself earning sidelong glances from the four or five waiting customers. One is a tall guy with perfectly styled, shoulder length, brown hair. Ryan remembers him saying his name was William. Bill.
"Must've read something interesting." Bill says with a quirk of his thin red lips. He's in a tight, black and gray, striped, long-sleeved shirt and an equally- if not more- tight pair of black jeans. He also has a red bandana tied around his right knee.
Ryan smiles back politely. "Uh, you could say that. I think I found a nice place to move. Glenn Lakes. Really nice community." Ryan babbles as he makes William's usual coffee. Vanilla cappuccino. Plain. No additives. Less work for Ryan.
"Yeah? I live there! Fourth floor. Do you know which apartment you'll be in?" Bill's brown eyes are aflame with enthusiasm and Ryan can't hold back his chuckle.
"Nope. Here you go." He hands Bill his drink. "The ad just gives the minimum of details, ya know? I'll be calling on my break. Which should be...now." Ryan takes off his regulation Bucks apron and calls over his shoulder as he leaves from behind the counter. "Hey, Walker. I'm going on break!"
Ryan sees Jon Walker, his manager, emerge from the back room with red tinged eyes. Of course. Jon's high. Again.
"Alright. Have fun, Ross!" He calls winking, or trying to wink, in William's general direction. Jon looks more like he's twitching though.
***
BRENDON:
Brendon watches his mother take his things from his room. She has tears in her beautiful brown eyes and Brendon wants to hug her. Tell her it's okay.
"Mom..." He whimpers as she drags the last of his personal belongings toward the front door. "Mommy, please...please don't leave me!"
Brendon is wide-eyed and panicked as he tries to intercept his mother.
"Mom, wait! I'm here!" He shouts. She stops, almost seeming to shudder, before whipping her cell phone out. She dials with shaking hands and fingers.
"Honey, it's all packed. Yes. The landlord has already put an ad out for the place. Yes, I'll meet you at the hospital. I sure hope so. I sure hope so." Brendon frowns at the way his mother is just ignoring him. Who could be more important to her than her own son?
"MOM!!" Brendon lunges at his mother, trying to stop her from opening the door. Unfortunately, Brendon's body goes clean through hers- Like air, he thinks- and he loses her. She leaves. And Brendon has a nagging feeling she isn't coming back.
He sobs thickly now, sliding to the floor and cries.
***
RYAN:
"So...which apartment, man?" Bill presses, chewing on a handful of fries. Ryan slides back into the diner booth, smile broad. He's got himself a condo!
"313. Next to the elevator." He says before sipping his chocolate shake. Bill makes a weird sound. Like a cat choking on a hairball.
"What?" Ryan inquires but Bill shakes his head quickly.
"Haha, nothing. Choked on a fry." He clears his throat abnormally loud. "So, the landlord didn't tell you anything about the last tenant...did he?"
Ryan looks up from his cheese burger to scan the worry lines on William's face. "No. Why would he?"
Bill shrugs. "Nothing. It's no big deal. Just the last guy that stayed there. Was kind of...weird."
Ryan's brows furrow at this and he's about to ask Bill what he meant by "weird" but Bill is already standing, tossing a twenty onto the table.
"I have to go...pick up my sister. Had fun. Lunch was on me. Seeya, Ry." And with that, Bill disappears out the diner door leaving Ryan extremely irritated and even more curious.
***
BRENDON:
Brendon is lying on what used to be his bed as he tries to analyze the situation. He can remember what happened. He doesn't want to remember but he does.
He was at another party with Gabe and his crew over on the shady side of Vegas. They'd been doing lines, shooting up, drinking but Brendon...Brendon just did a little pot. He never messed with the hard shit.
Until that night.
Gabe had just done about four lines and was downing his sixth vodka and red bull. Brendon just smiled his wide smile as Victoria passed him the bong. Despite his crush on Gabe, seeing the man doing line after line of coke was slowly turning Brendon off.
"Bden, c'mere." Gabe had whispered into Brendon's ear giving him goose bumps on his already cold skin. Gabe was standing over Brendon, smirk like sin written on his handsome face.
Brendon took one final toke from the glass bong and let the airy feeling bring him to his feet, into Gabe's waiting grasp.
"You're such a pretty thing, Urie." Gabe slurred into Brendon's neck as he led him outside to his car. Gabe’s breath smelled of weed and alcohol and hints of something he’d smoked from a glass pipe. Brendon didn’t know why but he followed.
Brendon had followed, too high to weigh the pros and cons. The only thing he could think about was Gabe Saporta. Right there. Wanting to be with him, Brendon Urie. It was all too surreal to stop.
Brendon was brought back to attention by a strong hand squeezing his thigh. Brendon moaned. Gabe smirked. "My place or yours, Urie?"
"M-Mine." Brendon had stuttered out. He knew that he’d regret it. He knew and he chalked it up to his being high. And then Gabe’s heavy hand was rubbing Brendon’s erection through his jeans.
The rest of the drive had been a blur.
Brendon remembers stumbling into his apartment, 313- the one his parents pay the rent on-, with his body flushed to Gabe's.
Gabe had him pressed hard against the door, licking sloppily into Brendon's eager mouth. It was all nasty, feral moans. Grinding and sucking and pulling. Somehow they'd ended up naked on Brendon's bed.
Gabe had been grunting as he grinded unforgiving and a wild against Brendon’s too tight jeans. Brendon was squirming from the sheer pleasure of it. The sheer unrealistic, this-could-never-happen-when-he’s-sober, this-shouldn’t-be-happening-at-all-ness of it. But Brendon just moaned.
“Gabe, please…”
"Hold on a second, beautiful." Gabe had said as he moved to straddle Brendon's hips.
Gabe reached into the pocket of his discarded trench coat and pulled out a magnum sized condom followed by a black pouch.
He smirked down at Brendon as he unzipped the pouch first. Brendon watched carefully but froze as Gabe held up a syringe and two rubber bands.
Brendon squirmed, his high slowly dissipating at the sight before him. "Wait, I don't fuck with heroin. I-"
Gabe had his lips around Brendon's half-hard cock before Brendon could finish his sentence.
"Fuck, Gabe...I..." Brendon couldn't form words. Gabe smirked around his cock before removing his mouth with a sinful slurping sound. He held up the needle again.
"Just this once, Bden. It makes the fuck so much better." Gabe leered at the younger boy and Brendon didn't want this. He didn't.
"No. Okay, I can't do this." Brendon tried to explain but Gabe wasn't leering playfully any more. He was stone cold. Emotionless.
"Lay the fuck back, you fucking slut." Gabe demanded, shoving Brendon back onto the mattress. Brendon couldn’t see Gabe in the dark anymore but in a funny way he had been glad. He wouldn’t have been able to handle seeing the look on Saporta’s face. Predatory. Brendon his prey. Travie had told Brendon. Warned him. But he just laughed. Because it’s GABE SPAPORTA. Brendon had been pinning for him since 7th grade. Pft…Travie had been right.
Travie’s dead now.
And Brendon was about to be too.
"GABE WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU-" Brendon had begun, but he cried out as the needle was driven into his neck.
Over and over.
The sting of it told Brendon it was heroin. Too much of it.
“No! Please!” Brendon had screamed at the top of his lungs but his struggle hadn’t been much. His limbs were numb and his head throbbed as he felt Gabe thrust into his unstretched hole. Brendon slapped Gabe. Bit Gabe.
Gabe just laughed.
"You‘re such a pretty thing, Urie." Was the last thing Brendon had heard before his entire world went black.
For all Brendon remembers, he passed out and Gabe left and he's still dreaming. But in the very back of his mind- The part that says, Dude, it's Gabe we're talking about- Brendon knows he's dead. Or close to it.
And he wants to get up, find his way to the "light" but he just can't. He can't leave. Because he knows he's leaving something...someone behind.
But Brendon has no idea who.
***
RYAN:
Ryan is walking down the hall of his new condo when he bumps into someone. It's a guy, a little shorter than Ryan. The guy is wearing jeans tighter than anything Ryan has seen on Bill and has tattoos covering every visible surface of his body. His hair is dark brown, almost black and it hangs limply in his face. Ryan notices eyeliner smudges underneath tired, broken hazel eyes.
"I'm so sorry-" Ryan apologizes for bumping into him. The guy just stares at him. "-I was just...looking for apartment 313? I'm moving in." Ryan tries for a smile.
The guy's eyes expand and he seems to glare at Ryan before rushing off in the other direction.
"Okay...weird." Ryan says aloud as he paces the hall for the apartment in question. 305. 307. 309. 311. 313.
Ryan sighs deeply. This is it. His first apartment. No drunk dad to tell him what to do and how to do it. It's just Ryan.
Only Ryan.
He pushes the door open once it's unlocked and steps into a low-roofed foyer. The place has hard wood floors that smell like lemon Pledge and wax. The walls are all painted burgundy with a stripe of cream colored wallpaper across the top. The furniture is all wood based. The couches are black faux leather and the television is mounted high up on the wall.
"Nice..." Ryan says just as his phone vibrates in his back pocket. He fishes it out to see Spencer's name flashing.
He answers with a smile.
"What's up, Smith?"
"Oh, the usual. Taking another shift at the thrift store. How's the new place?"
"It pretty fucking sweet. Hardwood floors. Leather couches and-" Ryan runs a longing hand up and down the stainless steel freezer. "-The perfect fucking kitchen. Dude, its worth every penny, I swear."
Spencer is yelling at someone and Ryan realizes from the loud wails that follow that it was a child Spencer had just verbally assaulted.
"Huh. Can't wait to see it. House warming party? Invite Gerard and the guys?"
Ryan grins as he heads down a long hall to his new bedroom. "Hell yes! Get some drinks going. Break the place-"
Ryan stops in the doorway and blinks once. Twice. A third time. There's no mistaking it though, there is a man in his new bed. A thin, short, pale man with wide pink lips, messy brown hair and red-rimmed glasses. The guy is asleep.
Ryan can't help it as he screams, albeit like a woman, and nearly drops his phone.
The guy on the bed jumps up, sees Ryan standing there about to shit himself, and the bastard smiles. Smiles a wide smile that catches Ryan off guard.
"S-spin...I'll call you later...bye." Ryan hangs up on Spencer and dials the first digit in 911.
"Who. The fuck. Are you?" Ryan's voice trembles tightly. The guy turns his head sideways like a confused puppy. Ryan grimaces.
"You can see me?"
Ryan huffs at this guy's extreme stupidity. "OF COURSE I CAN SEE YOU! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!"
Now the guy looks pissed. "For your fucking information, asshole. This is my apartment. So I'd lower my voice if I were you."
Ryan thinks that maybe he missed some crucial information like perhaps the part about having a roommate. But then he realizes that, no, there was no mention of any such thing.
"I'm calling the cops, you freak." He declares and begins to dial but the guy starts to...laugh.
Ryan stares at him, wide-eyed and pissed off.
"Go ahead. They'll just think you're crazy. They can't see me." The guys says in a sing-song tone, big brown eyes innocent.
"What?"
The guy steps up to Ryan and holds out a hand for Ryan to shake. "Nice to meet you. I'm Brendon Boyd Urie."
Ryan doesn't know why but he reaches a hand out to shake Brendon's. Ryan turns pale when his hand comes to a fist and goes straight through the boys hand.
Brendon smirks. "And I'm a ghost."