Rainbows (1/5)

[coloredxcrayons]

Title: Rainbows
Author: Kaiti-Kay (coloredxcrayons)
Pairing: Rydon
Rating: Mature (For language, nudity, teenage situations, sexuality, and mild thematic elements) XD
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the story. The boys are owned by FBR. I am not making any money off of this...although it would be nice.
Summary:  넌 나를 원해 넌 내게 빠져 넌 내게 미쳐 헤어날 수 없어 I got you- Under my skin

Neon nareul weonhae, neon naege bbajyeo, neon naege michyeo, he eonal su eobseo. I got you- Under my skin

Pov: Switches between Brendon and Ryan. Begins with Brendon, ends with Brendon
Authors Note: So here is is, after, what, a year? COMPLETE! Much thanks to Josh for always being my inspiration and to NANOWRIMO for forcing me to complete it. This is only one tale of seven. Also to Christine who is a doll and answers my questions, writes me fanfiction, and for having beautiful children.


Hillary or Obama…lady molded to her toilet seat…racism…why can’t we smoke pot…blah blah. It was American History class. I think it was during our discussion of why pot wasn’t legalized (how that ties in with the industrial revolution, I have no idea) when he came into the class. He was a pretty boy -light brown hair down to his chin, big hazel eyes, a tiny little nose, and ears that came to a slight point. In all honesty, he looked like an elf. But he was cute, and because of that, he was in all probability straight.

That’s my problem you see. Straight girls complain all the time that all the cute ones are gay. I am living proof that the above statement is not true; all the cute ones are completely and totally straight, therefore, completely and totally out of my reach. Because I have a problem with always crushing on the straight boys, I didn’t give this new student much thought. Well, that wasn’t true. I think I kind of obsessed over him the rest of the class.

His name was Ryan. Well, George, but he didn’t even let Coach Wright finish the name before he corrected him.  Ryan Ross. I made a mental note to look that name up in the phone book, then another mental note that the phone book wouldn’t have him because the phone book wouldn’t submit a new issue until may of next year.  Better yet, scratch out both mental notes.

He slouched, which was a good thing because if a boy sat up really straight it meant he was an asshole.  His pants were slightly baggy and worn, but his shirt was tight fitting and looked pretty new. I pretty much twisted out of my chair to see what was written on it:  PlayRadioPlay! I nearly smiled, but then he looked at me, so I had to pretend I was staring at the map above his head. I mentally cursed myself for wearing the Legally Blonde cast shirt instead of something a little more…not pink. I’m not really into acting; I’m in the band so the performers can sing. We get complimentary cast shirts. It’s pretty cool.

There was one thing that was kind of strange about him though. He was really quiet. He would just sit there, quietly writing while the class droned on about recycling and how bad meat was for your body. Homosexuality was brought up, again, and while the various comments flew, he seemed hardly interested. Not good. He had to be completely straight. I thought I saw him glance up at me when I brought up that people are born gay, but I might have just imagined it. When I looked over at him again, he was still writing, only now with a smug smirk on his face.

“I mean, I want Obama to win dude, ‘cuz he’s black, and I support the color. But I mean, if he gets elected, that’s too much trouble on the black people, and he might get assassinated.”

I nearly bashed my head on my desk. How some of these kids got into their junior year, I have no idea. While I was thinking of ways to slowly kill myself in the middle of class with nobody knowing, I heard a slightly high pitched chuckle I hadn’t heard before. My breath caught. It was too low to be a girl’s, so it had to be him. Sure enough, I looked over to see him trying to stop his giggles with his hand to no avail.

“Tell me,” he said at last, his face slightly pink, “if he was elected as president, a black man in office, what hardships you have the right to complain about? If we have a black man as president, it proves that there is no racism, and therefore all the shit you say about people being racist and all the hardships you paint out are all tiny problems in your mind.”

We were stunned. He had gone against the unwritten rule. Never laugh at another students point, and never contradict them while you are contradicting their point. He had just hit two birds with one stone, and I loved him for it.

“Honestly,” he muttered, turning pinker now that the entire class room had their gaze upon him, “how many people have degraded you by calling you a nigger today?”

If there were ever a time where nothing moved, not even a person for a breath of air, this was it. We knew the game was over. He had said the forbidden word. He had just hit three birds in one discussion, and I loved him even more. Ryan had the guts to say what I could never say. Coach Wright cleared his throat, and I groaned inwardly, preparing for the inevitable: ‘if you would leave my class now…’

“Mr. Ross, if you wouldn’t mind stepping out of the class and clearing away all of your dirty words and inner thoughts, that would be most appreciated.”

Ryan didn’t get up. I had never seen a person look so defiant in my entire life. He gently shut his note book in which he had earlier been writing (I noticed that it was from Candy Violet, too cute) and crossed his arms over his chest.

“If you want to talk about filthy words, sir, I would advise you to look on earlier conversations in which the word faggot was thrown around most carelessly, and without any regard from you.”

“That is an entirely different matter.”

“Is it?” I could tell that he was getting angry. His voice had risen in pitch, and I noticed that his knees were shaking. His next sentence came out in a threatening high pitched growl. “Is it so different? Please. If you call someone a fag, that’s just as hurtful as you calling someone a nigger. But we don’t even say that anymore. It’s nigga, right? But that’s so bad and terrible. How many people do you have committing suicide because someone at school called them the,” here he paused to gasp dramatically and cover his mouth, “’N’ word?”

“Mr. Ross…”

“Not one. Not one god-damned person. But right now, there’s a kid out there somewhere fingering a box of razor blades because he just got raped in a bathroom stall because a “fag” like him deserves it. Now tell me sir, which one is the filthier word?”

Ryan had finished. He let out a hiss of air from between his teeth. He wanted to say more, I could tell, but he remained silent. He had made his point. All heads turned to Coach Wright, who looked like he was just about ready to explode from overheating.

“Mr. Ross, if you will please remove yourself from my classroom, that would be most appreciated,” he repeated.

Ryan shook his head slowly with a slow laugh that sent chills into my stomach. He didn’t complain; just quietly gathered his belongings and headed out of the classroom door. He paused with his hand on the handle, turned around, gave malicious smile and said: “You disgust me.”

***

“I think I’m in love.”

I was now at lunch sitting outside with my best friends Audrey, Spencer, and Jon. I had waited for Audrey to sit down with her slice of pizza and little container of exactly 13 French fries (the cafeteria ladies count them out. 13 is all you need!) before I broke the news. Their reactions weren’t as big as I hoped it would be. Jon and Spence went back to their constant mooching and flirtatious banter, with only a spared “really?” from Jon. Disappointing yeah, but I couldn’t stay mad. Those two always made me smile. No matter how gay they acted, the truth was Spence was totally straight and Jon was only half gay. It kind of made me jealous that they could have a happier gay relationship than I could.

I looked to Audrey, who now had a large glob of cheese hanging from between her teeth. I pouted, and she rolled her eyes and stuffed the rest of the cheese into her mouth and against one cheek. That girl must have been a hamster in a past life. “Who is it this time,” she managed to get out.

“Only the dreamiest boy ever!” I exclaimed as I fell back into her lap, and almost causing her to choke on her chocolate milk. Okay, so I’m a little over dramatic. I guess I’m the soft gay one. Inside joke, don’t worry about it.

“Oh yeah? What happened to the last dreamiest boy ever?” Spencer asked between forkfuls of pineapple administered from Jon.

Audrey and I rolled our eyes. We had both dated the last dreamiest boy ever, at the same time, and without either of us knowing it. You can guess how that one ended.

“I’m serious. This guy is amazing.”

Audrey handed me her pizza crust and began munching on a fry. We have this thing where we pick off of each other’s plates. Like, I eat her pizza crusts and she eats my carrots. It’s great except when we’re not eating together. That means come dinner time, I’m screwed.

“So who is he? Give us the scoop. We can’t just take your word that he’s ‘amazing.’”

I laughed. We went through the same ritual every time. I think they were starting to think it was getting old, but I still enjoyed it. Maybe it was because I got to talk about my latest crush, and then Audrey would let me in on some hot gossip while Jon and Spenser continued to force the school to question their sexuality.

“Ryan Ross,” I began, feigning a British accent (it came out more Australian), “drop dead gorgeous. Quiet and speaks his mind.”

Audrey gasped and nearly threw me off of her lap. “No way!” she screeched, “That kid who told off that old cow?” News of his outburst had spread around the school like wildfire, and when Audrey mentioned it, my heart sank knowing that there were probably more people after him.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” Audrey was babbling now. She always got like that when she was excited. “Go for it! Oh my god, Brendon if you don’t, I will kick your ass! He is amazing!” She administered another fry to her mouth and pointed to her left. “And he’s totally staring at you right now.”

I began to laugh, but the air stopped flowing through my lungs. He what? What the hell was she smoking?  I sat up and followed her gaze, using my classic “I’m just resting my head on my best friend’s shoulder” technique so as not to seem suspicious. There he was, sitting alone under a tree about 10 feet away from us. And…he was looking…at least; it looked like he was looking. Audrey nudged my head with her shoulder, and it dawned at me that she had said something that I had not paid attention to.

“Go talk to him, “she urged me, once again taking up the task of finishing her fries. I hesitated a moment. What would I say? Hey, I saw you in class. Don’t worry, coach is an ass. Are you gay? I shook my head. That wouldn’t work at all. Audrey nudged me again, and I grudgingly obeyed her.

Random bits of possible conversation flowed through my head, but all traces of it disappeared when I was actually standing in front of him. “Um, hi,” was all I managed to get out. He looked up from a book he was reading and regarded me with total passiveness. He didn’t respond.

I began to fidget, so I sat down in front of him instead. A few moments of awkward silence passed. On my end probably; not his, since he had gone back to his book.

“I’m Brendon,” I tried again.

“I know.” He shut his book; using his finger to mark the page. “Urie, right?”

I blushed and nodded. I couldn’t help it. He knew my name. It had to be a sign of some sort. Maybe I would get mom to look up my horoscope later. He chuckled and shook his head. Oh great, now to add more embarrassment on embarrassment. A few more moments of silence passed, but he didn’t open his book again. It seemed as if he was waiting for me, and when I finally met his gaze, his eyes said to me ‘well’?

“Do you want to come study with me afterschool?”

“What?”

My question had taken him by surprise. Shit, my question had taken me by surprise. Where had I even come up with that?  There were so many better things to say. Like ‘your eyes are blue as window cleaner’, or ‘your face reminds me of a wrench, the more I think of you, the more my nuts tighten.’ Okay, maybe not sayings like that, but better things.

“Study. Afterschool. It’s like; we get together in the library and do homework together kind of thing.” I heard him laugh again. Was I making a good impression or a bad impression? I couldn’t tell and it was driving me crazy.

“Yeah, sure,” he said at last. And then he smiled at me. A genuine crooked smile that almost made me cream myself.

“Alright. I- I’ll meet you here?”

The book was back open, and I knew our conversation time was over. I stood up, nearly fell over because my joints had frozen into place, and made my way back to Audrey and the others. The conversation didn’t end as well as I hoped it would, but I still felt triumphant. Jon, Spencer, and Audrey were all staring at me as I resumed my place.

“So,” she said at last, “how did it go?”
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