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Heart and Tender
Part Four
Brendon starts going to the library mostly because his mom gets on his case when she notices him moping around the house more than usual.
Brendon feels weirdly like he's lying to Jon when he visits the music store so he tries not to go more than usual, even though he now has a hole in his day where he used to visit the bookshop.
Instead, he goes to the public library a few blocks away from his house and in the opposite direction of Decaydance Books.
Brendon used to go to the library a lot as a little kid, mostly for community events or when one of his siblings had to do a project for school and left him in the children section, so visiting is kind of nostalgic. It's been remodeled since then but it still feels familiar in a comfy way, even if Brendon doesn't fit in the tiny chairs they have for kids anymore (he tries on his first visit with no success).
And he discovers that he might actually like reading, a little bit. It had always seemed too intellectual and nerdy for Brendon, who got teased enough for being small and Mormon and a dork without adding bookworm on top of that. But whether it's because of Pete's store or if he just has a natural interest in books, he finds that he can spend hours curled up in the comfy (adult) chairs with a book in his lap.
The librarians are mostly cool about leaving him to read in peace and one of them helps Brendon make a new library card. His old one is from second grade and he's wearing a sweater with horses on it, so he figures it's time for an upgrade, which he sticks in his wallet behind his debit card.
Of course, sometimes Brendon gets caught up in reading and doesn't remember the time or his pile of homework that needs to be finished still. The library doesn't close until nine so he's always home before then and never needs to be herded out. But Brendon has been late for dinner more times than he can count and his family is starting to get annoyed with his tardiness.
"It's just rude," his father scolds and Brendon nods apologetically but he's still late the next day.
One day, maybe two weeks into his self-imposed avoidance of Pete's shop, someone taps Brendon on the shoulder as he's reading.
It's the same guy that had asked if Brendon needed help months ago when he'd been looking for information about Decaydance. He's wearing a trucker hat and doesn't look at all like most of the people that work there (mostly because he's not a mom) but it's definitely not as jarring as finding someone like Pete owning a used bookshop. He looks kind of book-y, with his argyle and fair skin.
"Hey, do you need to go soon?" the guy asks. He's really short, Brendon notices, before registering what he asked and checking his cellphone.
And yeah, he does need to go soon if he doesn't want to be late to dinner for the third time this week. "Hey, yeah, thanks man."
The guy gives a small smile, tipping his head a little. "No problem. Noticed that you've been having trouble getting out of here on time lately and since you don't leave a mess I figured you must be a decent guy."
"Oh, I'm pretty great," Brendon assure him with a bright smile. "I'm Brendon and thanks, I should really be going."
The guy nods understandingly. "Patrick. I'll see you around then Brendon."
And Brendon does see Patrick around a lot, after that. It's only ever at the library (it's not like Ryan, who Brendon manages to run into on a pretty regular basis now, at odd spots like the bus stop and often the grocery store) but Brendon visits the library enough nowadays that he sees quite a bit of Patrick.
He's a cool guy, in an entirely different way from Pete or Jon. They're the kind of guys that you could pick out of a crowd as rebelliously cool or relaxingly chill, respectively, but Patrick looks like an average dude and seems kind of quiet. He's really not quiet though, once you get him going.
One day, Brendon had been drumming against his leg with his thumbs to the song on his iPod and when he'd paused, Patrick had started up the beat to the same song on the counter a few feet away. He exchanged a smile with Brendon like a secret and then slid some of the library's CD's at Brendon when he'd gone to check out a book for a school project. "You'd like these," he tells him and Brendon had and takes it as a sign of the beginnings of a beautiful friendship.
Brendon's grades go up a little, but he's not really any more of an intellectual than he was before the library became his hangout. He checks out more CD's (at Patrick's insistence) than books and mostly just wastes time that normal teenagers would spend having friends.
Patrick's shift isn't at a set time but Brendon usually tries to track him down if he can. The librarians aren't as easily annoyed as the employees at Earl's music store and they try to point him in the right direction when he's looking for a book or Patrick.
It doesn't hit Brendon until a few weeks after meeting Patrick, visiting the library on a nearly-daily basis and getting a lot more use out of his red-framed reading glasses, that he's never actually seen Patrick reading anything. Especially compared to Pete, who had often had his nose buried in a book (which seemed like an impressive feat for both someone of his attention span and someone who could probably be doing far cooler things with his spare time, like spells or potions). There's a little flicker of regret at the thought of Pete and something that feels like homesickness and Brendon's fingers clench around the book he's holding and crumple the picture of a castle in the corner on the page. He breathes through his nose loudly, dramatically enough for a nearby reader to cut her eyes to him angrily. He lets the moment pass and then tries to return to learning about royalty in the Middle Ages for a history project.
But now he's curious. Brendon would consider Patrick something like a friend- a friendly acquaintance at least, and he's helped Brendon with his homework enough that Brendon feels weird not really knowing much about him other than the fact that he's inseparable from his hats and has an impressive knowledge of music.
Going straight to the source doesn't seem to work. Patrick doesn't openly brush him off, but when Brendon tries "you have such good taste in music- you must have some book recommendations," Patrick just waves his hand in an absentmindedly dismissive gesture.
"You always seem to have a good pile of books around you," he responds and Brendon tries not to pout, knowing that Patrick's not dismissive of Brendon's questions, just naturally modest. Still, it makes it hard to tease out any information about Patrick. Books seemed like the easiest topic of conversation since Patrick works in a freaking library but no such luck. Patrick's pretty skilled at avoiding questions without noticing Brendon's genuine interest.
It's stupid, but Brendon's determined to get to know Patrick better and literature seemed like an easy topic. And now that Patrick has proven so hard to investigate in that area, it just makes Brendon ten times more determined. It's when Brendon latches onto obsessive things like this that he knows he's not the most socially graceful person ever, but it's well-intentioned, Brendon thinks.
Of course, like most things in Brendon's life have been turning out lately, he stumbles across what he's searching for by accident.
*****
It's been long enough since Brendon stormed so dramatically out of Pete's shop that Brendon should be over it by now, but the subject is still a little tender so he tries not to think about it too much. That doesn't mean that he's no longer interested in the world that he'd discovered there though, and definitely not any less eager to learn about it. He might not have the resource of a real demon to question anymore, but he does have the library.
The first time he'd been looking for books about magic in the library, Brendon had been searching for information about his grandpa's enchanted piece of paper and he was so nervous that he hadn't really been paying much attention to anything. Brendon's surprised that he even recognized Patrick a few months after, since he doesn't remember anything else about his nervous visit.
The library has a decently-sized collection of books dealing with magic. There are the instructional magic books, to teach wannabe magicians how to pull rabbits out of anything and how to swallow and barf up bandannas but the books that Brendon is looking for are in a different section, not hidden shamefully but still in one of the less-populated areas of the building. That's fine for Brendon. While he's done far more scandalous things involving magic than he ever would have imagined a few months ago, it was always in the safety of Pete's shop, with its protective, familiar air. The library is a public, open place, with families and neighbors and Church members.
Eventually the library begins to feel familiar and comfortable enough, if not as secretive and cozy as Decaydance was, for him to feel safe looking up magic and Brendon's natural curiosity wins out over caution, like always.
The first time he goes to check out that section though (well, second time really, but enough time has passed that Brendon's pretty sure even Patrick doesn't remember him coming by months ago), there's already someone there. Brendon could have easily snuck away and come back a few minutes later but the person happens to turn and run right into Brendon. Brendon 'oofs' and books spill between them.
"Patrick!" Brendon would recognize that trucker hat anywhere and he bends to help pick up the books, a little ashamed that most of his excitement is from relief and not just joy at seeing someone that he's come to consider his friend.
"Damn Brendon. That scared the shit out of me." Patrick pats his chest like he's trying to sooth a racing heart and Brendon smiles apologetically.
"Sorry- I'm just so sneaky. All the ninja training. It's hard to suppress." Brendon bats his eyes at Patrick who shakes his head in amusement before taking the books in Brendon's arms.
It's then that Brendon sneaks a glance at the titles- not very subtly apparently, since Patrick's looking at him with raised eyebrows when Brendon looks back at his face. "Um, restocking?"
"No," Patrick answers evenly but without elaboration.
"I didn't know you checked out books," Brendon says, poking around for information.
"I work in a library- of course I like books." Patrick's tone isn't at all mean, just deceptively calm, but there's something almost defiant in it.
"Books about-" Brendon checks the name of the aisle like he doesn't already know where he is. "Magic?" Brendon questions, tentatively.
Patrick eyes him before nodding slowly. "Yeah."
"Do you really believe in that stuff?" Brendon asks, wondering how far he can push Pete's sealant and Patrick's patience.
Patrick scowls in the way that Brendon is beginning to recognize as his least-offended look and Brendon's quick to reassure him, "Oh, no, I mean, it's cool if you do, I was just wondering."
"Yeah, I do," Patrick says, stubbornly, like he's daring Brendon to make something of it. He pulls the books a little closer to his side.
"That's awesome," Brendon replies and Patrick looks at him challengingly for a second before accepting the genuineness.
Patrick shrugs at Brendon's enthusiasm, but he seems pleased enough that Brendon's not weirded out. Brendon is a little stunned, but not in a bad way. If anything, he can't believe his- luck? Karma? Coincidence?
"What were you looking for back here?" Patrick asks, adjusting his glasses with his free hand and looking so every bit the typical librarian that Brendon almost laughs in relief.
Instead, he tips his head in the direction of the section they both collided in. "I was actually looking for books in there too," Brendon says with a smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Although if you've taken all the good ones..."
He seems to succeed because the awkward, defensive hunch of Patrick's shoulders melts. "What, all two of them?" Patrick holds up his two books for demonstration and Brendon tries- and fails- to read the titles quickly before Patrick's tucking them away and moving back into the aisle purposefully. "No, there's definitely a bunch of good ones in here. Depends what you're looking for though." He looks up questioningly and Brendon lifts his hands in a shrug.
"Nothing in particular. Anything would be good." It was kind of stupid of him, but Brendon hadn't even thought about what subject he was looking for. Really, he hadn't gotten further than just looking at the aisle in his own planning- there was no way he could take a book about magic home so he'd been content just to look.
Patrick was bending over to peer at books, oblivious to Brendon's dilemma and Brendon smiled at his enthusiasm. Patrick muttered under his breath, tipping books back by the spine to look at the covers thoughtfully before sliding them back in, pulling out a few books and stacking them on the floor.
"You really know what you're looking for, huh?" Brendon asks and he's inexplicably fond of Patrick right then, looking so purposeful and intent as he kneels in front of the shelf. Patrick looks up with a slightly confused look before smirking.
"I'm a pretty awesome librarian, Brendon," he says with a snooty air, lifting his head haughtily, although the effect is kind of ruined by the fact that Brendon's looming over him. "But yeah," he replies, answering the real meaning behind Brendon's statement as he glances down at the pile. "It's kind of been an interest of mine for a while."
Again Patrick squints up at him like Brendon might laugh at him and Brendon does his best to be gentle and smile in his most genuine manner until Patrick's suspicion settles. "Yeah? I mean, I don't know much about it, but it seems cool." Brendon can't bring himself to say 'magic' or 'supernatural' or whatever it's supposed to be called anywhere outside his own head but Patrick doesn't seem to mind because he just nods.
"Everyone has to start somewhere," Patrick says and the echo of Sandra's words hurts a little.
"So I've heard."
"Here." Patrick hands over the books and picks up his own pair from the floor. "Some beginner stuff to get you started."
Brendon takes them tentatively, trying not to look over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching the exchange. "Thanks. Are there any chairs back here? I don't want to carry a pile this big up to the tables at the front." He's less likely to be spotted by anyone he know back here.
"Sure." Patrick leads him to a pair of chair along a wall nearby. "I should probably get back to checking books out, but tell me what you think of them."
Brendon nods and settles into the folds of the chair to read about things that he wouldn't dare ask anyone about but can't stand not knowing.
*****
Over the next few weeks, Brendon runs into Ryan so often that he feels like they're almost acquaintances of some sort. Ryan's everywhere- the parking lot of a Red Robin, walking the street that Brendon's driving down, at the drug store while Brendon's picking up contact solution.
And then the movie theater when Brendon's there with his family.
Ryan doesn't notice him at first but Brendon's enthusiastically telling his dad a story and his voice carries enough that Ryan, waiting near the ticket counter, glances up. He doesn't wave but Brendon wouldn't have expected that. He does nod a little in his preferred form of greeting and Brendon waves overenthusiastically to make up for it before remembering his story.
His mom's gaze follows his, over to Ryan who is slouching in a studiously bored and surly way. He's wearing a too-tight band t-shirt and equally small jeans on his skinny legs and while Brendon's seen him in far weirder outfits, his mother hasn't and her eyes pinch skeptically. "Who's that?"
Brendon plays dumb, looking up with wide eyes. "Who?"
She's not buying it. "Brendon. That boy you were waving to?"
"Oh." Brendon squints over at him. "Ryan- he goes to my school."
His mom makes an unconvinced noise but it's not like she can protest his presence at a public movie theater and she's not so judgmental as to call Brendon out for knowing or being friends with Ryan.
Brendon enjoys watching his mom struggle a little with the concept of Ryan, but it's kind of uncomfortable at the same time. It's a little mindblowing that Ryan is real and his mom is real and these two parts of Brendon's world are currently overlapping. His mom's just so... herself and Ryan is so definitely himself and the thought of them interacting is surreal.
Some girl shows up at Ryan's side not long afterwards, pretty and blonde. She looks normal enough and his mom eventually loses interest or at least approves enough of Ryan's choice in girls that she can overlook his other obvious shortcomings. Ryan enters the theater with her and Brendon watches them with an unsettled feeling, silent until his dad tells him to finish the story.
When they get in the theater, Brendon definitely doesn't look around for Ryan. And Ryan and the girl aren't in the movie that Brendon and his parents go to see either, but Brendon's not surprised. Ryan probably would have mocked the family-friendly romantic comedy that Brendon's sitting through.
But really, who is Ryan to mock how other people feel or how fake it looks on a big screen in perfect makeup and hair? It's not like he can even feel anything at all, Brendon thinks viciously.
How would he know how it feels to fall in love, or have your heart broken? He doesn't even have one.
*****
"Nice mess you left last time," is Patrick's greeting the next time Brendon comes to the library and Brendon slouches guiltily. He'd left the magic books in a messy pile when he'd left, partly because he was in a hurry but mostly because he didn't want to risk anyone seeing him tidying up that particular stack of books. It had seemed safe in an ostrich-in-the-sand way when he was reading; with his face and mind buried in the book, surely no one from church would even notice him. But the second that reality became apparent again, he needed to get away.
Passive-aggressive comment with a teasing smirk aside, Patrick doesn't seem too bothered by the mess and is eager to talk. Any hesitance that he might have had talking with Brendon apparently disappears after seeing how absorbed Brendon was in the recommended reading a few days ago.
"So, how was it?" He asks, unable to hide his curiosity.
"Informative," Brendon says, truthfully. That's the best way to describe it, other than how surreal it was to actually have answers for something that was so slippery that he'd resigned himself to not knowing without questioning Pete. And it wasn't like Pete himself was always very informative- sure, he was pretty straightforward but he wasn't a textbook of information and his answers tended to include tangents about Pete's thoughts on life or love or anything else that occurred to him when Brendon asked a very basic question. The books that Patrick had handed him were more all-encompassing and anticipated his questions better than Pete had.
"Good."
Brendon's manners kick in a little late. "Thank you," he offers in a polite voice that would do his mom proud.
Patrick waves it off with an embarrassed look, ungraceful at accepting anything resembling praise as Brendon's come to discover. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
Brendon's heart freezes, squeezes, for a second at the echo of Pete's parting words, before shrugging and shaking his head in a probably spastic motion. "I wasn't really looking for anything in particular. They were really interesting though."
"Oh, I just figured since you didn't check them out that you'd gotten what you wanted out of them."
Brendon shrugs nonchalantly, smile uncomfortable. "I'm Mormon- my parents wouldn't be very happy if they found their son reading books about something as unholy as-" Brendon waves his fingers in a hocus-pocusy way. "You know."
Patrick raises an eyebrow but looks mostly sympathetic. "Oh, parents. So you're a little rebel then?"
Patrick calling anyone little makes Brendon snort. He nods because, yeah, maybe he is a rebel. "Kind of, yeah."
Patrick doesn't seem the type to be impressed by the rebel label, but he respects doing your own thing, following your own path. Brendon kind of wishes he would have told Pete about his parents too- Pete definitely would have liked the whole rebel aspect. And then maybe he would have asked Brendon to stick around.
"Does this mean something to you?" Patrick asks, nodding to the books. Brendon can tell that he's feeling out Brendon reasoning and hears the unspoken 'more than your religion' added to the end.
"I think so," Brendon answers. "Yeah, it does." Brendon's not sure what it means to him yet, not sure if it's a replacement for the faith he grew up with or just a step further away from it, but he knows that it's something.
Patrick accepts that, nods. "Cool," he says and smiles sideways at Brendon as he sorts a stack of books for reshelving.
"What about you? Does it mean something?" It's only polite that Brendon return the question and only fair that Patrick answer it. Brendon's interested too.
"Yeah." Patrick's reply is a lot firmer than Brendon and less forced at the same time. "I've always been interested in magic. There's something about it that just makes sense to me. I've always needed to know more about it."
That makes sense, in a way that Brendon can understand even if it hasn't always been that way with him. He leans against the counter and watches Patrick sort. "What books were you looking at? Anything you'd recommend?"
Patrick's gaze flicks side to side before he glances back up at Brendon through his glasses. "I don't know- depends what you're interested in."
"Oooh, sounds kinky," Brendon says with a leer, earning a pained laugh from Patrick.
"Not really. They're about demons, mostly," Patrick says with a self-conscious shrug. "I don't know why, but that stuff's always been the most interesting to me" and Brendon feels a little lightheaded at the coincidence.
"Demons?"
Patrick misinterprets his look as disbelief or fright or something. "Oh, not the fire and hell and brimstone kind that you're probably used to," he assures, and Brendon smiles weakly at that.
"Oh yeah? What other kind of demon is there?" Brendon asks, because he was never very clear on this himself. While Pete happily divulged a lot of information, Brendon always felt a little weird asking 'what the hell are you, exactly?'.
"The real kind," Patrick says matter-of-factly and Brendon would be offended on behalf of his religion if he was still interested in it. "I can give you a few books if you want, but they're some relative of humans. People don't really know if they're a different species or what exactly, but there's a lot of different kinds of beings like them too." Patrick pauses to look at Brendon warily. "I'm not making this up you know."
"Patrick, duh, I know."
"I know it sounds crazy." Brendon waves him on and Patrick's hands busy themselves with the books again. "And a little creepy probably."
Brendon shrugs, tries to usher him on without looking too eager. "Whatever floats your boat."
Patrick gives him a weird look but he seems to have come to the conclusion already that Brendon's kind of an odd kid and is probably intrigued. "They're all interesting in different ways- the different magical beings. I mean, most of them just look like humans, but they can do some crazy shit. I've always just thought demons were the most interesting though. Something about them."
"Are they evil?" is the question that Brendon can't hold back, even if it makes him look like a naive, frightened Mormon. Really, Brendon's thinking of Pete, his store, his business and what it all means through the eyes of someone who actually knows what they're talking about instead of making it up as they go like Brendon had been.
It must be a common assumption because Patrick doesn't look too surprised by the question. "Definitely not all. They kind of lean that way- their morals are different from humans. Definitely looser and they can talk their way out of almost any reasoning to twist it to what they want to believe. But they're people too- not human, maybe, but still people of some kind."
"That's... comforting and not at the same time."
"There aren't many out there, apparently," Patrick tells him. "So I wouldn't be too worried. And if anything, you'd probably have to go looking for them. They don't usually make themselves known."
Try telling that to Pete, Brendon thought. He was pretty laidback with his bookstore, but he wasn't the type to shy away from the spotlight at all. He was so willing to impress Brendon and catch his attention that he let him in on the heart-dealing without Brendon really knowing anything about it. "They're good at healing," Brendon offers, because that's one thing he remembers Pete sharing with him.
"Yeah," Patrick says with a note of surprise. "That's true. But usually they do shadier stuff- business that more scrupulous beings would shy away from but that they don't mind. The bad reputation isn't undeserved."
And Brendon had been hoping that maybe Patrick would prove them wrong, but apparently even someone so fascinated with demons wasn't ignorant of their bad side so it would be naive of Brendon to ignore it. Pete had been pretty open with acknowledging how sketchy heart-dealing was but Brendon had thought that maybe those were just scare tactics or macho ego-boosters. Apparently not.
"So can anyone do magic?" Is Brendon's next important question. It's more obviously personal, although Patrick doesn't give him a searching look until after he's already answered the question.
"Theoretically, yeah. But people without any magical blood in them won't be very good at it. It just doesn't come naturally to us," Patrick explains.
"Us? As in humans?"
"Yeah. Full humans, at least. A pretty decent number of people have some magic from an ancestor at some point- more than you'd think at least."
"So you're a human?" Brendon asks, curious and a little wondrous at how weird it is to ask someone that.
"Probably," Patrick says like a casual shrug. "If I was magic I probably would have realized it a long time ago. That's not the sort of thing that lies dormant. You're just drawn to it if you have any bit of magic in you."
Brendon doesn't understand. "But- you're drawn to it, aren't you? How do you know you aren't magic too? Maybe you're part demon and that's why you're so interested in it?"
"Don't think I hadn't thought that at one point. It's kind of tempting, to think that you're capable and talented and naturally skilled at something. But I just know- I can tell that that's not it. That's not why I'm interested in it."
And a hope, a half-formed thought that has been lurking in Brendon's mind, suddenly flares into existence. It would make sense if he had some magic in his blood- sure the Mormons avoided magic like the sinful plague, but his grandpa had Pete's note and Brendon can feel it in his bones that this is what he's meant to do.
He doesn't tell Patrick this. He doesn't want his half-wish to be dissected and killed by someone more knowledgeable about this than him. Instead he keeps it hidden away in his mind, listening as Patrick tries to explain the reality of and differences between fairies and pixies.
*****
Brendon's thought seriously about going back to Pete's bookstore the past few weeks more times than he can count.
He's managed to talk himself out of it every time, with dozens of excuses and reasons. He's not eager to face any sort of conflict with Pete and visiting would only stir that up, but. Brendon misses it; misses the bookstore and Pete and the escape from his normal life. He's grateful for Patrick but he's not a replacement for Pete anymore than Pete was a replacement for Jon. And the store itself, with its dusty pages and natural lighting and room of hearts, made up one of the most exciting parts of Brendon's life in the few weeks he knew about it. To have it all taken away- he misses it.
Brendon tells himself that he's just going to look at the books. He's going to go buy that cookbook for his mom that he looked at the first time and then he'll leave. Maybe Pete won't even be working, although Brendon has come to know that that's not probable since Pete's the only employee in the store. And maybe some little part of Brendon hopes that Pete will be healing and Brendon will find him in the backroom and that will somehow heal everything between them too.
He's not though; the store's open and a man with large glasses is walking out of the store as Brendon hovers in front of it. He holds the door open and Brendon has no choice but to go in.
It's not exactly a sight for sore eyes. In fact, it's a little painful because Brendon's eyes have to adjust the sudden darkness and it takes a few blinks before he can see clearly again, but at least the smell is immediate and familiar. He takes a few deep breaths of it to steady himself.
Pete's sitting at the counter and he looks up when Brendon comes in, a blank look on his face. He doesn't look angry though, which Brendon takes as a good sign. Brendon attempts a little wave and Pete wiggles his fingers back with a contained smile. It's still something at least. Pete looks back at the book in his lap and Brendon would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed.
He has to pass the counter on the way to the back of the store where the cookbooks are. Brendon had no intention of stopping at the counter but he can't help it; he just freezes a little.
"So, been busy?" Pete asks without looking up from his book as Brendon lingers at the counter.
Brendon slides his fingers along the counter-top until it squeaks. "Yeah, I guess."
Brendon doesn't think there's anything to apologize for, on either front, but he still feels like there's that sort of general air of things left unsaid that need saying.
Brendon's not sure which one of them finally sends up the white flag of truce- Brendon for coming into the store or Pete for being willing to pick up the relationship back where they left off, if not a little more cautiously- but there's no official apology from either side and that seems to be alright. With anyone else, Brendon would have the uneasy feeling of unsettled issues, but mostly Brendon thinks that this was just a tragedy of timing. He was confused before and made insecure by his own doubts. But with a little time to clear his head, Brendon feels more certain in himself and less desperate to cling to anything that doesn't make him feel alone.
So he takes Pete's silence as acceptance, not a dismissal. When the store closes, Brendon's reading a book by the window and Pete waves him out with a small smile and Brendon thinks that maybe he was missed a little bit too.
He forgets to buy the cookbook, but there will be other visits to Decaydance.
*****
Of course, not everything in his life can go so smoothly.
"Are you mad at me or something Brendon?"
Brendon knows that it's been kind of shitty of him to have been avoiding the music store so often, only coming in occasionally and never staying long. But right now he feels like it was an even bigger mistake for him to come.
Jon's voice isn't even angry, just defeated and sad in a way that reminds Brendon of every time he tells Brendon about his friends in Chicago. It makes Brendon feel like the worst person in the world, because in between fixing his relationship with Pete, befriending Patrick and meeting Ryan, he hasn't even thought about Jon very often.
He still comes into the music store once a week or so, but it's mostly a brief visit now, checking in to see any new instruments and usually not even during Jon's shift. It's not an intentional avoidance; Brendon just isn't purposely trying to make time for Jon anymore.
Jon, who had always found time for Brendon when he'd visited during his shifts and who had shared his magazines and wanted to know how Brendon was doing in band. Jon who made stupid songs with Brendon on keyboard and Jon on guitar during Jon's breaks instead of going to grab a coffee or something, because Brendon had to wait at the store for his mom.
Jon, who had told Brendon to ignore what had ended up becoming the greatest excitement and adventure in Brendon's life so far.
And maybe Brendon had been unconsciously distancing himself from Jon because of that. Brendon knows, logically, that Jon wasn't trying to keep him from having fun, knew he was just looking out for him. But in Brendon's new exciting life, Brendon convinces himself that doesn't need pity-attention from a cool music store employee.
It's bad luck that he catches Jon at all in the store. He must have traded a shift with someone, because Jon never works weekends and it's Saturday afternoon. It's not like Brendon's been intentionally avoiding Jon but he imagined that it would be a clean break for the both of them if Brendon just didn't show up when Jon was around.
Now Brendon quivers in place, pinned by the quiet question and the look in Jon's eyes.
"No- of course not," Brendon protests, in a voice that sounds weak even to his own ears. "I've been kind of busy lately."
Jon doesn't look very convinced and Brendon doesn't blame him. Brendon's never been very busy before. And Jon was never too busy to entertain Brendon in the store, which just intensifies Brendon's guilt even more.
"I don't know what I did or why you're avoiding me," Jon says, shaking his head when Brendon tries to protest. "But you're- you're one of my only friends here Brendon" and Brendon knows he means in Summerlin, not just the music store. Because as many wild stories as Jon had about Chicago, he never talked about having any friends here.
"I'm sorry," Brendon offers, hanging his head like maybe he can curl up into a shameful little ball right there in the middle of the store. "I didn't mean to."
Jon doesn't respond and when Brendon looks up he's looking down at the magazine in his lap.
"I'll come by more, I promise. I've been busy but it's stupid that I haven't seen you in so long. I'll make time, I swear."
Jon snorts, kind of ugly-sounding but at least it's something. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
Brendon takes a few steps to the counter and leans forward tentatively, not sure how close he's allowed to be anymore. "Jon." No response. Jon flips a page in the magazine and then another. "Jon."
Finally Jon looks up, frowning, and Brendon steps into his space and ducks his head so that the top of it is under Jon's chin, like a cat's form of greeting. Brendon knows all about Jon's two cats- Dylan and Clover- and he intends to use Jon's love of them against him. "Jon. I'm sorry."
Jon makes a flat noise of acknowledgment, although it doesn't sound nearly as closed off.
"I appreciate all the time you've taken out of your schedule over the years for me," Brendon offers.
Jon makes another noncommittal noise, but when he speaks his attempt at gruff mostly just sounds fond. "Yeah, well, you're pretty entertaining. Better than most customers, at least."
Brendon smiles where he knows Jon can't see it before pulling his head back up. He wraps his arms around Jon until Jon relaxes into the hug and pats Brendon's back in the reassuring way that he always does, no matter if he's the one that actually needs comforting.
"Give me another chance?" Brendon asks, looking up at Jon with big eyes.
"Guess I have to, huh?"
"Yeah, probably. I'm irresistible."
"Yeah okay Urie. Just make sure you bring your big butt around here more often."
*****
*
Brendon's favorite place to think is the playground at his elementary school.
While he loves Decaydance and the library and the music store for their company, sometimes Brendon just needs to be alone so that he can hear his own thoughts.
And sometimes, he doesn't want his parents to notice his car is missing and the only place within walking distance worth visiting is the playground.
It's best if Brendon's parents don't know he's missing yet, because then they'll call his phone and he'll feel bad ignoring it. As long as the car isn't gone, his mom will assume he's up in his room and wait until his dad's home to confront him about his latest report card, which Brendon already knows will tell his parents that he's failing math.
Really, Brendon's just delaying the inevitable and possibly angering his parents even further by letting them stew in their anger. That logic doesn't make him any more eager to face the lecture he knows will be awaiting him at home, so he enjoys his peaceful moments of rocking back and forth on the swings, pressing his cheek against the cold metal links.
It's not the nicest playground around, so Brendon doesn't usually have to compete with families for the space. He's used to having the playground to himself.
Which, when coupled with the impending doom of his report card, might be why Brendon's a little grumpy when he sees a pair of teenagers approaching, not speaking loudly but audibly enough that it interrupts Brendon's thoughts. He'd been practicing guitar chords in his head actually, which is always calming if not a little mindless, but his concentration's broken now and Brendon peers over his shoulder at the pair.
It's Ryan and Spencer.
They notice him before Brendon can say anything and Brendon sees them both falter for a second before continuing on their course.
They're closer before Brendon can see Spencer stop, squint and nudge Ryan.
"Brendon?" Spencer's tone is surprised and amused and Brendon can only assume that he just realized who it was on the swings.
"Hey," he replies, slowing his swinging as they both come to stand in front of him, Ryan with his hands jammed deep in his pockets and Spencer squinting up at him. They're both haloed by the setting sun, with their edges aglow and features dark so that their expressions are both a little harder to read.
Luckily, Spencer seems to like Brendon and is pretty open about this, while Ryan's predictably sullen like he usually seems to be. "What're you up to?" Spencer asks. "We never see anyone at this park."
"Just hanging out," Brendon replies, and then, without really thinking about it- "Avoiding going home."
Spencer tries to share a significant look with Ryan, who avoids his gaze in favor of watching Brendon quietly.
"Where are you guys headed?"
"Home," Spencer answers, his head tilting, presumably in the direction of his house. "Right?" he asks, looking to Ryan.
If Spencer wanted Ryan to agree, then he probably shouldn't have looked for confirmation from Ryan, because something in his face shifts and he lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "I think I'm going to wait a while here," he tells Spencer.
To Spencer's credit, he doesn't protest. His brow wrinkles a little in a concerned but not entirely surprised look, and he frowns. "Are you sure? I think my mom's setting a place for you at dinner."
"Yeah," Ryan replies in monotone, although he does smile slightly in what probably counts as reassuring for him. "I'll just hang out here. Tell your mom thanks though."
Spencer watches him for a second longer. "Alright," he says eventually. His body leans in the direction of home and eventually convinces his feet to follow, even though Spencer doesn't look entirely sure that he should just leave Ryan there. "If you change your mind..."
Ryan nods easily but stays put and finally Spencer turns with a wave for both of them. Brendon's glad that Spencer's not blaming whatever decision Ryan just made on Brendon, since he doesn't look entirely happy about Ryan's choice to stay. Then again, knowing the state of Ryan's house last time he visited, Brendon can't blame him for wanting to avoid it.
"Hey," Brendon greets as Ryan sits down in the swing next to him, long skinny legs dangling from the seat.
"Hey." Ryan sits still for a couple of seconds but when Brendon goes back to swinging gently he follows his lead. They swing past each other, meeting in the middle.
"Aren't you hungry?" Brendon asks, instead of 'why don't you go eat with Spencer's family?'. It's around dinnertime, Brendon knows, and he's surprised both that his stomach isn't growling and that his mom hasn't called yet.
"Kind of," Ryan answers in a surprisingly artless manner. "Aren't you?"
"I'm okay."
That seems to be a good answer, because Ryan nods. When they pass each other in the middle, Brendon can hear him humming softly to himself, monotone but still recognizable as a song that Brendon knows.
"You like that song?" Brendon asks, looking over at Ryan, who frowns a little at the question. Brendon's a little worried by that, but it looks like Ryan's just thinking. It seemed like a safe question- after all, it was how he'd befriended Patrick.
Eventually, he nods tentatively. "Yeah, I guess I do."
"You guess?" Brendon asks incredulously, because why wouldn't Ryan know whether he liked something or not? Except- "Oh." Right. Ryan's heartless. Brendon still isn't an expert on heart-dealing or how it affects the heartless, no matter how many of them he's met, but it makes sense that if a person didn't feel love or hate it would make it harder to decide one's likes or dislikes.
Brendon's a little surprised by how quickly he forgets that Ryan's heartless. It's pretty obvious, although Brendon's just come to think of the subdued, monotone flatness as Ryan's default personality, rather than a side effect of being heartless. And it must be close enough to his original personality to not raise any suspicion from his friends who, unlike Spencer, don't know about the heart-dealing.
Then again, from what Brendon's seen of the rest of the people in Ryan's life, namely his dad, they might not notice a personality change at all.
Either way, Brendon's come to accept Ryan for all his surliness, because he can sneak a smile out of him when either of them are least expecting it. Ryan's not the normal person that Brendon would try to befriend, but Brendon has had so few friends growing up that he's desperate for any attention and companionship he can get. And if Ryan is what life throws his way, then Brendon will make the best of the situation that he can.
And they sure are being thrown into each other's paths often. Ryan is almost familiar now, to the point that Brendon can almost believe the lie he told his mom. Ryan could easily be some kid at his school, aside from the fact that most of them ignore Brendon and Ryan, while not openly friendly, will at least pay some attention to him. It's not really a friendship, per se, but it's close enough to a relationship that Brendon doesn't mind sharing his swing silence.
They're both happy to pass back and forth quietly, but conversation comes surprisingly easily too. It's mostly one-sided at first, although Brendon doesn't mind. He's acutely aware by now that most people think he's annoying and he doesn't really expect much from anyone in the way of discussion. And at least Ryan doesn't just get up and leave- Brendon's had that happen before and while he doesn't let it get him down it's a little hard to get along with those people afterward.
Eventually, Ryan contributes to the conversation, asking questions instead of just returning the ones that Brendon's already asked him. They both lament how cold it's getting as the sun sets while neither want to make the effort to actually leave. They trade stories about losing teeth; Spencer kicked Ryan's first one out in an inflatable bounce house while Brendon's older brother pulled his out. They don't have a lot in common, but it's still more than Brendon would have guessed. He's happily surprised that Ryan's even willing to give him a chance and he thinks that maybe Ryan is thinking the same thing but is also surprised that Brendon's giving him a chance too.
One of them slows and they end up swinging in time together, ankles knocking together; purposefully once when Ryan had made some sarcastic comment and Brendon lashed out in mock retaliation and then accidentally brushing against each other a few times without comment. Instead they trade stories and Brendon laughs so hard once that he falls out of his swing and Ryan seems genuinely amused by that, quirking a surprised little smile.
Brendon doesn't even realize how hungry he is until his stomach growls loudly as Ryan's telling him about Spencer's seventh birthday party and how the neighbor's dog had eaten his cake. Ryan's only partway through the story but Brendon can tell where it's leading and suddenly his stomach growls ferociously just as Ryan's reaching the climax of the story.
They both look down at Brendon's stomach and he covers it with one hand and smiles apologetically. "Sorry. All the talk about the cake woke it up." He shushes his stomach. "What was that about the beagle?"
But Ryan's blinking like he just realized how dark it had gotten and his hand hovers over his own stomach thoughtfully. "It got late fast."
"Time flies," Brendon offers and he can see Ryan's face twist into a pained expression at the overused cliche. "I guess I should go home now. I'm surprised my mom hasn't called by now asking where I am."
Ryan looks a little lost and Brendon doesn't miss the fact that Ryan doesn't seem to be wondering the same thing about his own parents. Brendon gets up, brushing the clingy pieces of bark off his butt from where he'd fallen, and Ryan looks sideways over at him.
"Are you gonna stay here?" Brendon asks to prod Ryan into action. It's a little creepy the way he's leaning against the metal chain of the swing like a marionette with cut strings.
Ryan shrugs with forced casualness. "Yeah, probably," he replies and Brendon looks on incredulously. It's not a bad neighborhood but there's no reason for Ryan to sit in the playground of an elementary school, alone and in the dark.
"No way," Brendon objects. And then, without thinking, "Come have dinner with me. My mom's a bomb cook."
Ryan's immediately resistant to the idea, Brendon can tell. He's shaking his head before Brendon's even finished talking but Brendon won't let him refuse. "No, you have to come. Ryan. C'mon."
Ryan's expression might be stubborn but Brendon is downright mulish and he's got all the momentum. "C'mon. I'm going to be in trouble anyways for staying out late and there's no way my mom will yell at me if I have a guest."
Brendon never would have guessed that appealing to Ryan's sympathy would get him to agree and he's pretty sure that's not what eventually causes Ryan to cave. But whatever it is, Ryan's mutinous expression wobbles until it slips into resignation and Brendon knows he's won.
"Please," he adds for good measure and finally Ryan nods slowly.
"Yeah, okay. But not for long," he tacks on when he sees the victory in Brendon's eyes.
So that's how Ryan Ross ends up in Brendon's house, looking exceptionally strange in his ruffled white shirt and black pinstriped pants. His entire posture is defensive before he even walks in the door, sharp angles folded in on himself with prominent collarbone and his chin jutted out, and Brendon puts a hand on his back to offer some measure of comfort or familiarity or something to hold onto because Ryan looks like he might just bolt out the door. Ryan tenses under his touch but eventually his shoulders loosen a little.
The lights in the kitchen are a pretty obvious sign that his parents are home and about and Brendon knows he can't avoid them forever.
"Brendon?" Right on time, his mom appears a minute after Brendon's shut the front door, poking her head around the corner into the entryway. "Where- oh! You have a friend over."
To her credit, she manages to sound only surprised and not completely shocked. And right away, Brendon can see her internal struggle; disapproval for Ryan, irritation at Brendon's lateness and excitement that he's actually brought a friend around. His mom was a fan of Brent, for some reason that Brendon could never fully understand since the feeling wasn't mutual. But for all that Brent was obviously uncomfortable around his mom, she seemed to like his normalcy, his typical teenage boy clothing and his interest in videogames. She's never asked Brendon to be a little more... normal, but Brendon doesn't doubt that she hoped Brent might steer him toward that with a steady diet of vaguely violent videogames.
Ryan is nothing like Brent and it doesn't take his mother more than half a second to figure that out.
"Brendon," she says, turning to him with an overly bright look in her eyes. "Who's your friend?"
Ryan looks away, maybe giving them a degree of privacy or pretending that he's not really there for his own sake. He looks like a crazy aloof bird perched in their entryway, in wild patterns and ruffles, and his mom's gaze stays as firmly on Brendon as her grin stays plastered on her face.
"This is Ryan. Remember, we saw him at the movie theater, Mom?" Brendon blinks innocently.
He can see the realization dawn but her smile stays in place, slightly more brittle but intact. "Oh, of course."
Brendon knows his mom. She might not like Ryan- oh, she definitely doesn't like him- but she's already been impolite by not recognizing him, so she'll excuse the makeup and the tight clothing to make up for it.
Ryan earns some bonus points of his own too. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Urie," he says, unexpectedly shyly and Brendon just stares at him for a second. Luckily, his mom's quicker to act, possibly actually charmed by this version of Ryan. He offers his hand and his mom takes it without a second of hesitation. "I should probably be going but-"
"Mom, I told him that he had to stay for dinner," Brendon interrupts. All it takes is planting the idea and his mom runs with it.
"Oh, of course." She firmly believes that inviting people to stay for dinner has nothing to do with how much you like them and everything to do with manners. If Brendon can't appeal to her personal taste, then at least Ryan's guaranteed a meal by rules of politeness alone.
But the topic of food seems to remind his mom that dinnertime is long passed and she cuts her eyes to Brendon sharply. "Dinner's cold, unfortunately, but I'll stick it in the oven for a while." She brushes her hair back busily and then breezes into the kitchen. "Brendon, set the table, would you?"
Brendon's sure that his parents have already eaten, but there's no way his mom's going to open that old argument about Brendon's lateness in front of a guest, so they'll probably pick at a second course. He goes to the silverware drawer, Ryan hovering nearby, and hears his mom shutting the oven, rousing his dad from in front of the T.V. Ryan sits when Brendon does, next to him and leaving the two seats across the table for his parents.
His mom makes noises about the quality of the dinner, how she wasn't expecting company and how much better the potatoes were before they cooled but Brendon's too hungry to even notice any difference. Ryan is silent but at least he doesn't look outwardly sullen like he usually does. He eats his own food with a healthy appetite and Brendon's parents mostly move their small portions around their plates without eating.
"This is good," Brendon tells his mom, although she looks less than impressed by his efforts at flattery. It was worth a shot at least, since she's been making angry eyes at him from across the table whenever she thinks Ryan isn't watching. For his part, Ryan is acting dutifully oblivious to the tension.
"Definitely," his dad agrees with a calm expression.
Ryan, who has been mostly silent throughout the meal, makes a noise of agreement, and swallows his food before turning to Brendon. "Can I use the bathroom?"
"Yeah. Down the hall, the one with the toilet."
Ryan pushes his chair out and the napkin that was on his lap falls onto the floor. Brendon can sees his mom's eyes glance at it quickly and Ryan puts it clumsily back onto his seat before making his way down the hall uncertainly.
"Well, it's nice to have guests over for dinner," his mom says carefully once the bathroom door has closed. "He goes to your school you said?"
"Pass the asparagus, please," his dad says.
"Yeah, we have a few classes together." It's weird how easily lying comes. He hands the plate of asparagus over to his dad.
His mom makes a noncommital noise, spearing her own asparagus. Brendon shovels potatoes into his mouth before she can ask another question. He faces off with his parents from across the table as the water runs in the bathroom and an awkward silence has descended by the time that Ryan returns, sleeves rolled up and wiping his hands on his pants.
Brendon stands up abruptly before Ryan can sit, grabbing both of their plates. "Thanks mom, that was great. We'll get the dishes." Ryan follows his lead, taking the plate of asparagus as Brendon leads them to the kitchen.
"Just leave them in the sink," his mom calls. "The dishwasher's already running."
Brendon's happy to comply, dumping the plates into the sink, as Ryan balances the plates carefully along the edge. Any excuse to get away from the table is a good one and Brendon tugs at Ryan's hand to get him upstairs.
"Mom, we'll be in my room," he calls out. "Working on a science project."
Whatever her answer is is cut off by his door and Brendon throws himself down on his bed enthusiastically.
"Science project?" Ryan asks.
Brendon's laugh is smothered by pillows as he wiggles around, trying to get comfortable. "You go to my school," he informs Ryan.
When he looks up, peeking out from behind his covers, Ryan's watching him with a weird look. Once he sees that Brendon's noticed though, his gaze detaches and wanders around the room.
"You don't have to stand by the door," Brendon says. "Here, come sit down or something." There aren't any open chairs in his room like there were in Ryan's so he scoots over on the bed to give him room.
Eventually Ryan seems satisfied with his inspection of Brendon's room and takes a tentative seat on the end of the bed. "I should go."
"Where?" Brendon asks, voice muffled but curious.
The half-second that Ryan hesitates is enough to tell Brendon that he really shouldn't go. "Home," he replies, without sounding convinced and Brendon flops over onto Ryan's side of the bed and looks up at him with big eyes.
"Stay for a while. We really need to finish this science project."
Ryan's mouth lifts in brief amusement and Brendon knows he has him. "Really, I should-"
"Stay," Brendon says firmly. "Do you need to call home and say that you're going to be staying over here a while?"
Ryan shakes his head slowly after a moment and Brendon settles himself across Ryan's lap, elbows avoiding sensitive parts and looking up at him. "So, that dog. It was eying the cake..." (Part Five)
Part Four
Brendon starts going to the library mostly because his mom gets on his case when she notices him moping around the house more than usual.
Brendon feels weirdly like he's lying to Jon when he visits the music store so he tries not to go more than usual, even though he now has a hole in his day where he used to visit the bookshop.
Instead, he goes to the public library a few blocks away from his house and in the opposite direction of Decaydance Books.
Brendon used to go to the library a lot as a little kid, mostly for community events or when one of his siblings had to do a project for school and left him in the children section, so visiting is kind of nostalgic. It's been remodeled since then but it still feels familiar in a comfy way, even if Brendon doesn't fit in the tiny chairs they have for kids anymore (he tries on his first visit with no success).
And he discovers that he might actually like reading, a little bit. It had always seemed too intellectual and nerdy for Brendon, who got teased enough for being small and Mormon and a dork without adding bookworm on top of that. But whether it's because of Pete's store or if he just has a natural interest in books, he finds that he can spend hours curled up in the comfy (adult) chairs with a book in his lap.
The librarians are mostly cool about leaving him to read in peace and one of them helps Brendon make a new library card. His old one is from second grade and he's wearing a sweater with horses on it, so he figures it's time for an upgrade, which he sticks in his wallet behind his debit card.
Of course, sometimes Brendon gets caught up in reading and doesn't remember the time or his pile of homework that needs to be finished still. The library doesn't close until nine so he's always home before then and never needs to be herded out. But Brendon has been late for dinner more times than he can count and his family is starting to get annoyed with his tardiness.
"It's just rude," his father scolds and Brendon nods apologetically but he's still late the next day.
One day, maybe two weeks into his self-imposed avoidance of Pete's shop, someone taps Brendon on the shoulder as he's reading.
It's the same guy that had asked if Brendon needed help months ago when he'd been looking for information about Decaydance. He's wearing a trucker hat and doesn't look at all like most of the people that work there (mostly because he's not a mom) but it's definitely not as jarring as finding someone like Pete owning a used bookshop. He looks kind of book-y, with his argyle and fair skin.
"Hey, do you need to go soon?" the guy asks. He's really short, Brendon notices, before registering what he asked and checking his cellphone.
And yeah, he does need to go soon if he doesn't want to be late to dinner for the third time this week. "Hey, yeah, thanks man."
The guy gives a small smile, tipping his head a little. "No problem. Noticed that you've been having trouble getting out of here on time lately and since you don't leave a mess I figured you must be a decent guy."
"Oh, I'm pretty great," Brendon assure him with a bright smile. "I'm Brendon and thanks, I should really be going."
The guy nods understandingly. "Patrick. I'll see you around then Brendon."
And Brendon does see Patrick around a lot, after that. It's only ever at the library (it's not like Ryan, who Brendon manages to run into on a pretty regular basis now, at odd spots like the bus stop and often the grocery store) but Brendon visits the library enough nowadays that he sees quite a bit of Patrick.
He's a cool guy, in an entirely different way from Pete or Jon. They're the kind of guys that you could pick out of a crowd as rebelliously cool or relaxingly chill, respectively, but Patrick looks like an average dude and seems kind of quiet. He's really not quiet though, once you get him going.
One day, Brendon had been drumming against his leg with his thumbs to the song on his iPod and when he'd paused, Patrick had started up the beat to the same song on the counter a few feet away. He exchanged a smile with Brendon like a secret and then slid some of the library's CD's at Brendon when he'd gone to check out a book for a school project. "You'd like these," he tells him and Brendon had and takes it as a sign of the beginnings of a beautiful friendship.
Brendon's grades go up a little, but he's not really any more of an intellectual than he was before the library became his hangout. He checks out more CD's (at Patrick's insistence) than books and mostly just wastes time that normal teenagers would spend having friends.
Patrick's shift isn't at a set time but Brendon usually tries to track him down if he can. The librarians aren't as easily annoyed as the employees at Earl's music store and they try to point him in the right direction when he's looking for a book or Patrick.
It doesn't hit Brendon until a few weeks after meeting Patrick, visiting the library on a nearly-daily basis and getting a lot more use out of his red-framed reading glasses, that he's never actually seen Patrick reading anything. Especially compared to Pete, who had often had his nose buried in a book (which seemed like an impressive feat for both someone of his attention span and someone who could probably be doing far cooler things with his spare time, like spells or potions). There's a little flicker of regret at the thought of Pete and something that feels like homesickness and Brendon's fingers clench around the book he's holding and crumple the picture of a castle in the corner on the page. He breathes through his nose loudly, dramatically enough for a nearby reader to cut her eyes to him angrily. He lets the moment pass and then tries to return to learning about royalty in the Middle Ages for a history project.
But now he's curious. Brendon would consider Patrick something like a friend- a friendly acquaintance at least, and he's helped Brendon with his homework enough that Brendon feels weird not really knowing much about him other than the fact that he's inseparable from his hats and has an impressive knowledge of music.
Going straight to the source doesn't seem to work. Patrick doesn't openly brush him off, but when Brendon tries "you have such good taste in music- you must have some book recommendations," Patrick just waves his hand in an absentmindedly dismissive gesture.
"You always seem to have a good pile of books around you," he responds and Brendon tries not to pout, knowing that Patrick's not dismissive of Brendon's questions, just naturally modest. Still, it makes it hard to tease out any information about Patrick. Books seemed like the easiest topic of conversation since Patrick works in a freaking library but no such luck. Patrick's pretty skilled at avoiding questions without noticing Brendon's genuine interest.
It's stupid, but Brendon's determined to get to know Patrick better and literature seemed like an easy topic. And now that Patrick has proven so hard to investigate in that area, it just makes Brendon ten times more determined. It's when Brendon latches onto obsessive things like this that he knows he's not the most socially graceful person ever, but it's well-intentioned, Brendon thinks.
Of course, like most things in Brendon's life have been turning out lately, he stumbles across what he's searching for by accident.
*****
It's been long enough since Brendon stormed so dramatically out of Pete's shop that Brendon should be over it by now, but the subject is still a little tender so he tries not to think about it too much. That doesn't mean that he's no longer interested in the world that he'd discovered there though, and definitely not any less eager to learn about it. He might not have the resource of a real demon to question anymore, but he does have the library.
The first time he'd been looking for books about magic in the library, Brendon had been searching for information about his grandpa's enchanted piece of paper and he was so nervous that he hadn't really been paying much attention to anything. Brendon's surprised that he even recognized Patrick a few months after, since he doesn't remember anything else about his nervous visit.
The library has a decently-sized collection of books dealing with magic. There are the instructional magic books, to teach wannabe magicians how to pull rabbits out of anything and how to swallow and barf up bandannas but the books that Brendon is looking for are in a different section, not hidden shamefully but still in one of the less-populated areas of the building. That's fine for Brendon. While he's done far more scandalous things involving magic than he ever would have imagined a few months ago, it was always in the safety of Pete's shop, with its protective, familiar air. The library is a public, open place, with families and neighbors and Church members.
Eventually the library begins to feel familiar and comfortable enough, if not as secretive and cozy as Decaydance was, for him to feel safe looking up magic and Brendon's natural curiosity wins out over caution, like always.
The first time he goes to check out that section though (well, second time really, but enough time has passed that Brendon's pretty sure even Patrick doesn't remember him coming by months ago), there's already someone there. Brendon could have easily snuck away and come back a few minutes later but the person happens to turn and run right into Brendon. Brendon 'oofs' and books spill between them.
"Patrick!" Brendon would recognize that trucker hat anywhere and he bends to help pick up the books, a little ashamed that most of his excitement is from relief and not just joy at seeing someone that he's come to consider his friend.
"Damn Brendon. That scared the shit out of me." Patrick pats his chest like he's trying to sooth a racing heart and Brendon smiles apologetically.
"Sorry- I'm just so sneaky. All the ninja training. It's hard to suppress." Brendon bats his eyes at Patrick who shakes his head in amusement before taking the books in Brendon's arms.
It's then that Brendon sneaks a glance at the titles- not very subtly apparently, since Patrick's looking at him with raised eyebrows when Brendon looks back at his face. "Um, restocking?"
"No," Patrick answers evenly but without elaboration.
"I didn't know you checked out books," Brendon says, poking around for information.
"I work in a library- of course I like books." Patrick's tone isn't at all mean, just deceptively calm, but there's something almost defiant in it.
"Books about-" Brendon checks the name of the aisle like he doesn't already know where he is. "Magic?" Brendon questions, tentatively.
Patrick eyes him before nodding slowly. "Yeah."
"Do you really believe in that stuff?" Brendon asks, wondering how far he can push Pete's sealant and Patrick's patience.
Patrick scowls in the way that Brendon is beginning to recognize as his least-offended look and Brendon's quick to reassure him, "Oh, no, I mean, it's cool if you do, I was just wondering."
"Yeah, I do," Patrick says, stubbornly, like he's daring Brendon to make something of it. He pulls the books a little closer to his side.
"That's awesome," Brendon replies and Patrick looks at him challengingly for a second before accepting the genuineness.
Patrick shrugs at Brendon's enthusiasm, but he seems pleased enough that Brendon's not weirded out. Brendon is a little stunned, but not in a bad way. If anything, he can't believe his- luck? Karma? Coincidence?
"What were you looking for back here?" Patrick asks, adjusting his glasses with his free hand and looking so every bit the typical librarian that Brendon almost laughs in relief.
Instead, he tips his head in the direction of the section they both collided in. "I was actually looking for books in there too," Brendon says with a smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Although if you've taken all the good ones..."
He seems to succeed because the awkward, defensive hunch of Patrick's shoulders melts. "What, all two of them?" Patrick holds up his two books for demonstration and Brendon tries- and fails- to read the titles quickly before Patrick's tucking them away and moving back into the aisle purposefully. "No, there's definitely a bunch of good ones in here. Depends what you're looking for though." He looks up questioningly and Brendon lifts his hands in a shrug.
"Nothing in particular. Anything would be good." It was kind of stupid of him, but Brendon hadn't even thought about what subject he was looking for. Really, he hadn't gotten further than just looking at the aisle in his own planning- there was no way he could take a book about magic home so he'd been content just to look.
Patrick was bending over to peer at books, oblivious to Brendon's dilemma and Brendon smiled at his enthusiasm. Patrick muttered under his breath, tipping books back by the spine to look at the covers thoughtfully before sliding them back in, pulling out a few books and stacking them on the floor.
"You really know what you're looking for, huh?" Brendon asks and he's inexplicably fond of Patrick right then, looking so purposeful and intent as he kneels in front of the shelf. Patrick looks up with a slightly confused look before smirking.
"I'm a pretty awesome librarian, Brendon," he says with a snooty air, lifting his head haughtily, although the effect is kind of ruined by the fact that Brendon's looming over him. "But yeah," he replies, answering the real meaning behind Brendon's statement as he glances down at the pile. "It's kind of been an interest of mine for a while."
Again Patrick squints up at him like Brendon might laugh at him and Brendon does his best to be gentle and smile in his most genuine manner until Patrick's suspicion settles. "Yeah? I mean, I don't know much about it, but it seems cool." Brendon can't bring himself to say 'magic' or 'supernatural' or whatever it's supposed to be called anywhere outside his own head but Patrick doesn't seem to mind because he just nods.
"Everyone has to start somewhere," Patrick says and the echo of Sandra's words hurts a little.
"So I've heard."
"Here." Patrick hands over the books and picks up his own pair from the floor. "Some beginner stuff to get you started."
Brendon takes them tentatively, trying not to look over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching the exchange. "Thanks. Are there any chairs back here? I don't want to carry a pile this big up to the tables at the front." He's less likely to be spotted by anyone he know back here.
"Sure." Patrick leads him to a pair of chair along a wall nearby. "I should probably get back to checking books out, but tell me what you think of them."
Brendon nods and settles into the folds of the chair to read about things that he wouldn't dare ask anyone about but can't stand not knowing.
*****
Over the next few weeks, Brendon runs into Ryan so often that he feels like they're almost acquaintances of some sort. Ryan's everywhere- the parking lot of a Red Robin, walking the street that Brendon's driving down, at the drug store while Brendon's picking up contact solution.
And then the movie theater when Brendon's there with his family.
Ryan doesn't notice him at first but Brendon's enthusiastically telling his dad a story and his voice carries enough that Ryan, waiting near the ticket counter, glances up. He doesn't wave but Brendon wouldn't have expected that. He does nod a little in his preferred form of greeting and Brendon waves overenthusiastically to make up for it before remembering his story.
His mom's gaze follows his, over to Ryan who is slouching in a studiously bored and surly way. He's wearing a too-tight band t-shirt and equally small jeans on his skinny legs and while Brendon's seen him in far weirder outfits, his mother hasn't and her eyes pinch skeptically. "Who's that?"
Brendon plays dumb, looking up with wide eyes. "Who?"
She's not buying it. "Brendon. That boy you were waving to?"
"Oh." Brendon squints over at him. "Ryan- he goes to my school."
His mom makes an unconvinced noise but it's not like she can protest his presence at a public movie theater and she's not so judgmental as to call Brendon out for knowing or being friends with Ryan.
Brendon enjoys watching his mom struggle a little with the concept of Ryan, but it's kind of uncomfortable at the same time. It's a little mindblowing that Ryan is real and his mom is real and these two parts of Brendon's world are currently overlapping. His mom's just so... herself and Ryan is so definitely himself and the thought of them interacting is surreal.
Some girl shows up at Ryan's side not long afterwards, pretty and blonde. She looks normal enough and his mom eventually loses interest or at least approves enough of Ryan's choice in girls that she can overlook his other obvious shortcomings. Ryan enters the theater with her and Brendon watches them with an unsettled feeling, silent until his dad tells him to finish the story.
When they get in the theater, Brendon definitely doesn't look around for Ryan. And Ryan and the girl aren't in the movie that Brendon and his parents go to see either, but Brendon's not surprised. Ryan probably would have mocked the family-friendly romantic comedy that Brendon's sitting through.
But really, who is Ryan to mock how other people feel or how fake it looks on a big screen in perfect makeup and hair? It's not like he can even feel anything at all, Brendon thinks viciously.
How would he know how it feels to fall in love, or have your heart broken? He doesn't even have one.
*****
"Nice mess you left last time," is Patrick's greeting the next time Brendon comes to the library and Brendon slouches guiltily. He'd left the magic books in a messy pile when he'd left, partly because he was in a hurry but mostly because he didn't want to risk anyone seeing him tidying up that particular stack of books. It had seemed safe in an ostrich-in-the-sand way when he was reading; with his face and mind buried in the book, surely no one from church would even notice him. But the second that reality became apparent again, he needed to get away.
Passive-aggressive comment with a teasing smirk aside, Patrick doesn't seem too bothered by the mess and is eager to talk. Any hesitance that he might have had talking with Brendon apparently disappears after seeing how absorbed Brendon was in the recommended reading a few days ago.
"So, how was it?" He asks, unable to hide his curiosity.
"Informative," Brendon says, truthfully. That's the best way to describe it, other than how surreal it was to actually have answers for something that was so slippery that he'd resigned himself to not knowing without questioning Pete. And it wasn't like Pete himself was always very informative- sure, he was pretty straightforward but he wasn't a textbook of information and his answers tended to include tangents about Pete's thoughts on life or love or anything else that occurred to him when Brendon asked a very basic question. The books that Patrick had handed him were more all-encompassing and anticipated his questions better than Pete had.
"Good."
Brendon's manners kick in a little late. "Thank you," he offers in a polite voice that would do his mom proud.
Patrick waves it off with an embarrassed look, ungraceful at accepting anything resembling praise as Brendon's come to discover. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
Brendon's heart freezes, squeezes, for a second at the echo of Pete's parting words, before shrugging and shaking his head in a probably spastic motion. "I wasn't really looking for anything in particular. They were really interesting though."
"Oh, I just figured since you didn't check them out that you'd gotten what you wanted out of them."
Brendon shrugs nonchalantly, smile uncomfortable. "I'm Mormon- my parents wouldn't be very happy if they found their son reading books about something as unholy as-" Brendon waves his fingers in a hocus-pocusy way. "You know."
Patrick raises an eyebrow but looks mostly sympathetic. "Oh, parents. So you're a little rebel then?"
Patrick calling anyone little makes Brendon snort. He nods because, yeah, maybe he is a rebel. "Kind of, yeah."
Patrick doesn't seem the type to be impressed by the rebel label, but he respects doing your own thing, following your own path. Brendon kind of wishes he would have told Pete about his parents too- Pete definitely would have liked the whole rebel aspect. And then maybe he would have asked Brendon to stick around.
"Does this mean something to you?" Patrick asks, nodding to the books. Brendon can tell that he's feeling out Brendon reasoning and hears the unspoken 'more than your religion' added to the end.
"I think so," Brendon answers. "Yeah, it does." Brendon's not sure what it means to him yet, not sure if it's a replacement for the faith he grew up with or just a step further away from it, but he knows that it's something.
Patrick accepts that, nods. "Cool," he says and smiles sideways at Brendon as he sorts a stack of books for reshelving.
"What about you? Does it mean something?" It's only polite that Brendon return the question and only fair that Patrick answer it. Brendon's interested too.
"Yeah." Patrick's reply is a lot firmer than Brendon and less forced at the same time. "I've always been interested in magic. There's something about it that just makes sense to me. I've always needed to know more about it."
That makes sense, in a way that Brendon can understand even if it hasn't always been that way with him. He leans against the counter and watches Patrick sort. "What books were you looking at? Anything you'd recommend?"
Patrick's gaze flicks side to side before he glances back up at Brendon through his glasses. "I don't know- depends what you're interested in."
"Oooh, sounds kinky," Brendon says with a leer, earning a pained laugh from Patrick.
"Not really. They're about demons, mostly," Patrick says with a self-conscious shrug. "I don't know why, but that stuff's always been the most interesting to me" and Brendon feels a little lightheaded at the coincidence.
"Demons?"
Patrick misinterprets his look as disbelief or fright or something. "Oh, not the fire and hell and brimstone kind that you're probably used to," he assures, and Brendon smiles weakly at that.
"Oh yeah? What other kind of demon is there?" Brendon asks, because he was never very clear on this himself. While Pete happily divulged a lot of information, Brendon always felt a little weird asking 'what the hell are you, exactly?'.
"The real kind," Patrick says matter-of-factly and Brendon would be offended on behalf of his religion if he was still interested in it. "I can give you a few books if you want, but they're some relative of humans. People don't really know if they're a different species or what exactly, but there's a lot of different kinds of beings like them too." Patrick pauses to look at Brendon warily. "I'm not making this up you know."
"Patrick, duh, I know."
"I know it sounds crazy." Brendon waves him on and Patrick's hands busy themselves with the books again. "And a little creepy probably."
Brendon shrugs, tries to usher him on without looking too eager. "Whatever floats your boat."
Patrick gives him a weird look but he seems to have come to the conclusion already that Brendon's kind of an odd kid and is probably intrigued. "They're all interesting in different ways- the different magical beings. I mean, most of them just look like humans, but they can do some crazy shit. I've always just thought demons were the most interesting though. Something about them."
"Are they evil?" is the question that Brendon can't hold back, even if it makes him look like a naive, frightened Mormon. Really, Brendon's thinking of Pete, his store, his business and what it all means through the eyes of someone who actually knows what they're talking about instead of making it up as they go like Brendon had been.
It must be a common assumption because Patrick doesn't look too surprised by the question. "Definitely not all. They kind of lean that way- their morals are different from humans. Definitely looser and they can talk their way out of almost any reasoning to twist it to what they want to believe. But they're people too- not human, maybe, but still people of some kind."
"That's... comforting and not at the same time."
"There aren't many out there, apparently," Patrick tells him. "So I wouldn't be too worried. And if anything, you'd probably have to go looking for them. They don't usually make themselves known."
Try telling that to Pete, Brendon thought. He was pretty laidback with his bookstore, but he wasn't the type to shy away from the spotlight at all. He was so willing to impress Brendon and catch his attention that he let him in on the heart-dealing without Brendon really knowing anything about it. "They're good at healing," Brendon offers, because that's one thing he remembers Pete sharing with him.
"Yeah," Patrick says with a note of surprise. "That's true. But usually they do shadier stuff- business that more scrupulous beings would shy away from but that they don't mind. The bad reputation isn't undeserved."
And Brendon had been hoping that maybe Patrick would prove them wrong, but apparently even someone so fascinated with demons wasn't ignorant of their bad side so it would be naive of Brendon to ignore it. Pete had been pretty open with acknowledging how sketchy heart-dealing was but Brendon had thought that maybe those were just scare tactics or macho ego-boosters. Apparently not.
"So can anyone do magic?" Is Brendon's next important question. It's more obviously personal, although Patrick doesn't give him a searching look until after he's already answered the question.
"Theoretically, yeah. But people without any magical blood in them won't be very good at it. It just doesn't come naturally to us," Patrick explains.
"Us? As in humans?"
"Yeah. Full humans, at least. A pretty decent number of people have some magic from an ancestor at some point- more than you'd think at least."
"So you're a human?" Brendon asks, curious and a little wondrous at how weird it is to ask someone that.
"Probably," Patrick says like a casual shrug. "If I was magic I probably would have realized it a long time ago. That's not the sort of thing that lies dormant. You're just drawn to it if you have any bit of magic in you."
Brendon doesn't understand. "But- you're drawn to it, aren't you? How do you know you aren't magic too? Maybe you're part demon and that's why you're so interested in it?"
"Don't think I hadn't thought that at one point. It's kind of tempting, to think that you're capable and talented and naturally skilled at something. But I just know- I can tell that that's not it. That's not why I'm interested in it."
And a hope, a half-formed thought that has been lurking in Brendon's mind, suddenly flares into existence. It would make sense if he had some magic in his blood- sure the Mormons avoided magic like the sinful plague, but his grandpa had Pete's note and Brendon can feel it in his bones that this is what he's meant to do.
He doesn't tell Patrick this. He doesn't want his half-wish to be dissected and killed by someone more knowledgeable about this than him. Instead he keeps it hidden away in his mind, listening as Patrick tries to explain the reality of and differences between fairies and pixies.
*****
Brendon's thought seriously about going back to Pete's bookstore the past few weeks more times than he can count.
He's managed to talk himself out of it every time, with dozens of excuses and reasons. He's not eager to face any sort of conflict with Pete and visiting would only stir that up, but. Brendon misses it; misses the bookstore and Pete and the escape from his normal life. He's grateful for Patrick but he's not a replacement for Pete anymore than Pete was a replacement for Jon. And the store itself, with its dusty pages and natural lighting and room of hearts, made up one of the most exciting parts of Brendon's life in the few weeks he knew about it. To have it all taken away- he misses it.
Brendon tells himself that he's just going to look at the books. He's going to go buy that cookbook for his mom that he looked at the first time and then he'll leave. Maybe Pete won't even be working, although Brendon has come to know that that's not probable since Pete's the only employee in the store. And maybe some little part of Brendon hopes that Pete will be healing and Brendon will find him in the backroom and that will somehow heal everything between them too.
He's not though; the store's open and a man with large glasses is walking out of the store as Brendon hovers in front of it. He holds the door open and Brendon has no choice but to go in.
It's not exactly a sight for sore eyes. In fact, it's a little painful because Brendon's eyes have to adjust the sudden darkness and it takes a few blinks before he can see clearly again, but at least the smell is immediate and familiar. He takes a few deep breaths of it to steady himself.
Pete's sitting at the counter and he looks up when Brendon comes in, a blank look on his face. He doesn't look angry though, which Brendon takes as a good sign. Brendon attempts a little wave and Pete wiggles his fingers back with a contained smile. It's still something at least. Pete looks back at the book in his lap and Brendon would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed.
He has to pass the counter on the way to the back of the store where the cookbooks are. Brendon had no intention of stopping at the counter but he can't help it; he just freezes a little.
"So, been busy?" Pete asks without looking up from his book as Brendon lingers at the counter.
Brendon slides his fingers along the counter-top until it squeaks. "Yeah, I guess."
Brendon doesn't think there's anything to apologize for, on either front, but he still feels like there's that sort of general air of things left unsaid that need saying.
Brendon's not sure which one of them finally sends up the white flag of truce- Brendon for coming into the store or Pete for being willing to pick up the relationship back where they left off, if not a little more cautiously- but there's no official apology from either side and that seems to be alright. With anyone else, Brendon would have the uneasy feeling of unsettled issues, but mostly Brendon thinks that this was just a tragedy of timing. He was confused before and made insecure by his own doubts. But with a little time to clear his head, Brendon feels more certain in himself and less desperate to cling to anything that doesn't make him feel alone.
So he takes Pete's silence as acceptance, not a dismissal. When the store closes, Brendon's reading a book by the window and Pete waves him out with a small smile and Brendon thinks that maybe he was missed a little bit too.
He forgets to buy the cookbook, but there will be other visits to Decaydance.
*****
Of course, not everything in his life can go so smoothly.
"Are you mad at me or something Brendon?"
Brendon knows that it's been kind of shitty of him to have been avoiding the music store so often, only coming in occasionally and never staying long. But right now he feels like it was an even bigger mistake for him to come.
Jon's voice isn't even angry, just defeated and sad in a way that reminds Brendon of every time he tells Brendon about his friends in Chicago. It makes Brendon feel like the worst person in the world, because in between fixing his relationship with Pete, befriending Patrick and meeting Ryan, he hasn't even thought about Jon very often.
He still comes into the music store once a week or so, but it's mostly a brief visit now, checking in to see any new instruments and usually not even during Jon's shift. It's not an intentional avoidance; Brendon just isn't purposely trying to make time for Jon anymore.
Jon, who had always found time for Brendon when he'd visited during his shifts and who had shared his magazines and wanted to know how Brendon was doing in band. Jon who made stupid songs with Brendon on keyboard and Jon on guitar during Jon's breaks instead of going to grab a coffee or something, because Brendon had to wait at the store for his mom.
Jon, who had told Brendon to ignore what had ended up becoming the greatest excitement and adventure in Brendon's life so far.
And maybe Brendon had been unconsciously distancing himself from Jon because of that. Brendon knows, logically, that Jon wasn't trying to keep him from having fun, knew he was just looking out for him. But in Brendon's new exciting life, Brendon convinces himself that doesn't need pity-attention from a cool music store employee.
It's bad luck that he catches Jon at all in the store. He must have traded a shift with someone, because Jon never works weekends and it's Saturday afternoon. It's not like Brendon's been intentionally avoiding Jon but he imagined that it would be a clean break for the both of them if Brendon just didn't show up when Jon was around.
Now Brendon quivers in place, pinned by the quiet question and the look in Jon's eyes.
"No- of course not," Brendon protests, in a voice that sounds weak even to his own ears. "I've been kind of busy lately."
Jon doesn't look very convinced and Brendon doesn't blame him. Brendon's never been very busy before. And Jon was never too busy to entertain Brendon in the store, which just intensifies Brendon's guilt even more.
"I don't know what I did or why you're avoiding me," Jon says, shaking his head when Brendon tries to protest. "But you're- you're one of my only friends here Brendon" and Brendon knows he means in Summerlin, not just the music store. Because as many wild stories as Jon had about Chicago, he never talked about having any friends here.
"I'm sorry," Brendon offers, hanging his head like maybe he can curl up into a shameful little ball right there in the middle of the store. "I didn't mean to."
Jon doesn't respond and when Brendon looks up he's looking down at the magazine in his lap.
"I'll come by more, I promise. I've been busy but it's stupid that I haven't seen you in so long. I'll make time, I swear."
Jon snorts, kind of ugly-sounding but at least it's something. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
Brendon takes a few steps to the counter and leans forward tentatively, not sure how close he's allowed to be anymore. "Jon." No response. Jon flips a page in the magazine and then another. "Jon."
Finally Jon looks up, frowning, and Brendon steps into his space and ducks his head so that the top of it is under Jon's chin, like a cat's form of greeting. Brendon knows all about Jon's two cats- Dylan and Clover- and he intends to use Jon's love of them against him. "Jon. I'm sorry."
Jon makes a flat noise of acknowledgment, although it doesn't sound nearly as closed off.
"I appreciate all the time you've taken out of your schedule over the years for me," Brendon offers.
Jon makes another noncommittal noise, but when he speaks his attempt at gruff mostly just sounds fond. "Yeah, well, you're pretty entertaining. Better than most customers, at least."
Brendon smiles where he knows Jon can't see it before pulling his head back up. He wraps his arms around Jon until Jon relaxes into the hug and pats Brendon's back in the reassuring way that he always does, no matter if he's the one that actually needs comforting.
"Give me another chance?" Brendon asks, looking up at Jon with big eyes.
"Guess I have to, huh?"
"Yeah, probably. I'm irresistible."
"Yeah okay Urie. Just make sure you bring your big butt around here more often."
*****
*
Brendon's favorite place to think is the playground at his elementary school.
While he loves Decaydance and the library and the music store for their company, sometimes Brendon just needs to be alone so that he can hear his own thoughts.
And sometimes, he doesn't want his parents to notice his car is missing and the only place within walking distance worth visiting is the playground.
It's best if Brendon's parents don't know he's missing yet, because then they'll call his phone and he'll feel bad ignoring it. As long as the car isn't gone, his mom will assume he's up in his room and wait until his dad's home to confront him about his latest report card, which Brendon already knows will tell his parents that he's failing math.
Really, Brendon's just delaying the inevitable and possibly angering his parents even further by letting them stew in their anger. That logic doesn't make him any more eager to face the lecture he knows will be awaiting him at home, so he enjoys his peaceful moments of rocking back and forth on the swings, pressing his cheek against the cold metal links.
It's not the nicest playground around, so Brendon doesn't usually have to compete with families for the space. He's used to having the playground to himself.
Which, when coupled with the impending doom of his report card, might be why Brendon's a little grumpy when he sees a pair of teenagers approaching, not speaking loudly but audibly enough that it interrupts Brendon's thoughts. He'd been practicing guitar chords in his head actually, which is always calming if not a little mindless, but his concentration's broken now and Brendon peers over his shoulder at the pair.
It's Ryan and Spencer.
They notice him before Brendon can say anything and Brendon sees them both falter for a second before continuing on their course.
They're closer before Brendon can see Spencer stop, squint and nudge Ryan.
"Brendon?" Spencer's tone is surprised and amused and Brendon can only assume that he just realized who it was on the swings.
"Hey," he replies, slowing his swinging as they both come to stand in front of him, Ryan with his hands jammed deep in his pockets and Spencer squinting up at him. They're both haloed by the setting sun, with their edges aglow and features dark so that their expressions are both a little harder to read.
Luckily, Spencer seems to like Brendon and is pretty open about this, while Ryan's predictably sullen like he usually seems to be. "What're you up to?" Spencer asks. "We never see anyone at this park."
"Just hanging out," Brendon replies, and then, without really thinking about it- "Avoiding going home."
Spencer tries to share a significant look with Ryan, who avoids his gaze in favor of watching Brendon quietly.
"Where are you guys headed?"
"Home," Spencer answers, his head tilting, presumably in the direction of his house. "Right?" he asks, looking to Ryan.
If Spencer wanted Ryan to agree, then he probably shouldn't have looked for confirmation from Ryan, because something in his face shifts and he lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "I think I'm going to wait a while here," he tells Spencer.
To Spencer's credit, he doesn't protest. His brow wrinkles a little in a concerned but not entirely surprised look, and he frowns. "Are you sure? I think my mom's setting a place for you at dinner."
"Yeah," Ryan replies in monotone, although he does smile slightly in what probably counts as reassuring for him. "I'll just hang out here. Tell your mom thanks though."
Spencer watches him for a second longer. "Alright," he says eventually. His body leans in the direction of home and eventually convinces his feet to follow, even though Spencer doesn't look entirely sure that he should just leave Ryan there. "If you change your mind..."
Ryan nods easily but stays put and finally Spencer turns with a wave for both of them. Brendon's glad that Spencer's not blaming whatever decision Ryan just made on Brendon, since he doesn't look entirely happy about Ryan's choice to stay. Then again, knowing the state of Ryan's house last time he visited, Brendon can't blame him for wanting to avoid it.
"Hey," Brendon greets as Ryan sits down in the swing next to him, long skinny legs dangling from the seat.
"Hey." Ryan sits still for a couple of seconds but when Brendon goes back to swinging gently he follows his lead. They swing past each other, meeting in the middle.
"Aren't you hungry?" Brendon asks, instead of 'why don't you go eat with Spencer's family?'. It's around dinnertime, Brendon knows, and he's surprised both that his stomach isn't growling and that his mom hasn't called yet.
"Kind of," Ryan answers in a surprisingly artless manner. "Aren't you?"
"I'm okay."
That seems to be a good answer, because Ryan nods. When they pass each other in the middle, Brendon can hear him humming softly to himself, monotone but still recognizable as a song that Brendon knows.
"You like that song?" Brendon asks, looking over at Ryan, who frowns a little at the question. Brendon's a little worried by that, but it looks like Ryan's just thinking. It seemed like a safe question- after all, it was how he'd befriended Patrick.
Eventually, he nods tentatively. "Yeah, I guess I do."
"You guess?" Brendon asks incredulously, because why wouldn't Ryan know whether he liked something or not? Except- "Oh." Right. Ryan's heartless. Brendon still isn't an expert on heart-dealing or how it affects the heartless, no matter how many of them he's met, but it makes sense that if a person didn't feel love or hate it would make it harder to decide one's likes or dislikes.
Brendon's a little surprised by how quickly he forgets that Ryan's heartless. It's pretty obvious, although Brendon's just come to think of the subdued, monotone flatness as Ryan's default personality, rather than a side effect of being heartless. And it must be close enough to his original personality to not raise any suspicion from his friends who, unlike Spencer, don't know about the heart-dealing.
Then again, from what Brendon's seen of the rest of the people in Ryan's life, namely his dad, they might not notice a personality change at all.
Either way, Brendon's come to accept Ryan for all his surliness, because he can sneak a smile out of him when either of them are least expecting it. Ryan's not the normal person that Brendon would try to befriend, but Brendon has had so few friends growing up that he's desperate for any attention and companionship he can get. And if Ryan is what life throws his way, then Brendon will make the best of the situation that he can.
And they sure are being thrown into each other's paths often. Ryan is almost familiar now, to the point that Brendon can almost believe the lie he told his mom. Ryan could easily be some kid at his school, aside from the fact that most of them ignore Brendon and Ryan, while not openly friendly, will at least pay some attention to him. It's not really a friendship, per se, but it's close enough to a relationship that Brendon doesn't mind sharing his swing silence.
They're both happy to pass back and forth quietly, but conversation comes surprisingly easily too. It's mostly one-sided at first, although Brendon doesn't mind. He's acutely aware by now that most people think he's annoying and he doesn't really expect much from anyone in the way of discussion. And at least Ryan doesn't just get up and leave- Brendon's had that happen before and while he doesn't let it get him down it's a little hard to get along with those people afterward.
Eventually, Ryan contributes to the conversation, asking questions instead of just returning the ones that Brendon's already asked him. They both lament how cold it's getting as the sun sets while neither want to make the effort to actually leave. They trade stories about losing teeth; Spencer kicked Ryan's first one out in an inflatable bounce house while Brendon's older brother pulled his out. They don't have a lot in common, but it's still more than Brendon would have guessed. He's happily surprised that Ryan's even willing to give him a chance and he thinks that maybe Ryan is thinking the same thing but is also surprised that Brendon's giving him a chance too.
One of them slows and they end up swinging in time together, ankles knocking together; purposefully once when Ryan had made some sarcastic comment and Brendon lashed out in mock retaliation and then accidentally brushing against each other a few times without comment. Instead they trade stories and Brendon laughs so hard once that he falls out of his swing and Ryan seems genuinely amused by that, quirking a surprised little smile.
Brendon doesn't even realize how hungry he is until his stomach growls loudly as Ryan's telling him about Spencer's seventh birthday party and how the neighbor's dog had eaten his cake. Ryan's only partway through the story but Brendon can tell where it's leading and suddenly his stomach growls ferociously just as Ryan's reaching the climax of the story.
They both look down at Brendon's stomach and he covers it with one hand and smiles apologetically. "Sorry. All the talk about the cake woke it up." He shushes his stomach. "What was that about the beagle?"
But Ryan's blinking like he just realized how dark it had gotten and his hand hovers over his own stomach thoughtfully. "It got late fast."
"Time flies," Brendon offers and he can see Ryan's face twist into a pained expression at the overused cliche. "I guess I should go home now. I'm surprised my mom hasn't called by now asking where I am."
Ryan looks a little lost and Brendon doesn't miss the fact that Ryan doesn't seem to be wondering the same thing about his own parents. Brendon gets up, brushing the clingy pieces of bark off his butt from where he'd fallen, and Ryan looks sideways over at him.
"Are you gonna stay here?" Brendon asks to prod Ryan into action. It's a little creepy the way he's leaning against the metal chain of the swing like a marionette with cut strings.
Ryan shrugs with forced casualness. "Yeah, probably," he replies and Brendon looks on incredulously. It's not a bad neighborhood but there's no reason for Ryan to sit in the playground of an elementary school, alone and in the dark.
"No way," Brendon objects. And then, without thinking, "Come have dinner with me. My mom's a bomb cook."
Ryan's immediately resistant to the idea, Brendon can tell. He's shaking his head before Brendon's even finished talking but Brendon won't let him refuse. "No, you have to come. Ryan. C'mon."
Ryan's expression might be stubborn but Brendon is downright mulish and he's got all the momentum. "C'mon. I'm going to be in trouble anyways for staying out late and there's no way my mom will yell at me if I have a guest."
Brendon never would have guessed that appealing to Ryan's sympathy would get him to agree and he's pretty sure that's not what eventually causes Ryan to cave. But whatever it is, Ryan's mutinous expression wobbles until it slips into resignation and Brendon knows he's won.
"Please," he adds for good measure and finally Ryan nods slowly.
"Yeah, okay. But not for long," he tacks on when he sees the victory in Brendon's eyes.
So that's how Ryan Ross ends up in Brendon's house, looking exceptionally strange in his ruffled white shirt and black pinstriped pants. His entire posture is defensive before he even walks in the door, sharp angles folded in on himself with prominent collarbone and his chin jutted out, and Brendon puts a hand on his back to offer some measure of comfort or familiarity or something to hold onto because Ryan looks like he might just bolt out the door. Ryan tenses under his touch but eventually his shoulders loosen a little.
The lights in the kitchen are a pretty obvious sign that his parents are home and about and Brendon knows he can't avoid them forever.
"Brendon?" Right on time, his mom appears a minute after Brendon's shut the front door, poking her head around the corner into the entryway. "Where- oh! You have a friend over."
To her credit, she manages to sound only surprised and not completely shocked. And right away, Brendon can see her internal struggle; disapproval for Ryan, irritation at Brendon's lateness and excitement that he's actually brought a friend around. His mom was a fan of Brent, for some reason that Brendon could never fully understand since the feeling wasn't mutual. But for all that Brent was obviously uncomfortable around his mom, she seemed to like his normalcy, his typical teenage boy clothing and his interest in videogames. She's never asked Brendon to be a little more... normal, but Brendon doesn't doubt that she hoped Brent might steer him toward that with a steady diet of vaguely violent videogames.
Ryan is nothing like Brent and it doesn't take his mother more than half a second to figure that out.
"Brendon," she says, turning to him with an overly bright look in her eyes. "Who's your friend?"
Ryan looks away, maybe giving them a degree of privacy or pretending that he's not really there for his own sake. He looks like a crazy aloof bird perched in their entryway, in wild patterns and ruffles, and his mom's gaze stays as firmly on Brendon as her grin stays plastered on her face.
"This is Ryan. Remember, we saw him at the movie theater, Mom?" Brendon blinks innocently.
He can see the realization dawn but her smile stays in place, slightly more brittle but intact. "Oh, of course."
Brendon knows his mom. She might not like Ryan- oh, she definitely doesn't like him- but she's already been impolite by not recognizing him, so she'll excuse the makeup and the tight clothing to make up for it.
Ryan earns some bonus points of his own too. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Urie," he says, unexpectedly shyly and Brendon just stares at him for a second. Luckily, his mom's quicker to act, possibly actually charmed by this version of Ryan. He offers his hand and his mom takes it without a second of hesitation. "I should probably be going but-"
"Mom, I told him that he had to stay for dinner," Brendon interrupts. All it takes is planting the idea and his mom runs with it.
"Oh, of course." She firmly believes that inviting people to stay for dinner has nothing to do with how much you like them and everything to do with manners. If Brendon can't appeal to her personal taste, then at least Ryan's guaranteed a meal by rules of politeness alone.
But the topic of food seems to remind his mom that dinnertime is long passed and she cuts her eyes to Brendon sharply. "Dinner's cold, unfortunately, but I'll stick it in the oven for a while." She brushes her hair back busily and then breezes into the kitchen. "Brendon, set the table, would you?"
Brendon's sure that his parents have already eaten, but there's no way his mom's going to open that old argument about Brendon's lateness in front of a guest, so they'll probably pick at a second course. He goes to the silverware drawer, Ryan hovering nearby, and hears his mom shutting the oven, rousing his dad from in front of the T.V. Ryan sits when Brendon does, next to him and leaving the two seats across the table for his parents.
His mom makes noises about the quality of the dinner, how she wasn't expecting company and how much better the potatoes were before they cooled but Brendon's too hungry to even notice any difference. Ryan is silent but at least he doesn't look outwardly sullen like he usually does. He eats his own food with a healthy appetite and Brendon's parents mostly move their small portions around their plates without eating.
"This is good," Brendon tells his mom, although she looks less than impressed by his efforts at flattery. It was worth a shot at least, since she's been making angry eyes at him from across the table whenever she thinks Ryan isn't watching. For his part, Ryan is acting dutifully oblivious to the tension.
"Definitely," his dad agrees with a calm expression.
Ryan, who has been mostly silent throughout the meal, makes a noise of agreement, and swallows his food before turning to Brendon. "Can I use the bathroom?"
"Yeah. Down the hall, the one with the toilet."
Ryan pushes his chair out and the napkin that was on his lap falls onto the floor. Brendon can sees his mom's eyes glance at it quickly and Ryan puts it clumsily back onto his seat before making his way down the hall uncertainly.
"Well, it's nice to have guests over for dinner," his mom says carefully once the bathroom door has closed. "He goes to your school you said?"
"Pass the asparagus, please," his dad says.
"Yeah, we have a few classes together." It's weird how easily lying comes. He hands the plate of asparagus over to his dad.
His mom makes a noncommital noise, spearing her own asparagus. Brendon shovels potatoes into his mouth before she can ask another question. He faces off with his parents from across the table as the water runs in the bathroom and an awkward silence has descended by the time that Ryan returns, sleeves rolled up and wiping his hands on his pants.
Brendon stands up abruptly before Ryan can sit, grabbing both of their plates. "Thanks mom, that was great. We'll get the dishes." Ryan follows his lead, taking the plate of asparagus as Brendon leads them to the kitchen.
"Just leave them in the sink," his mom calls. "The dishwasher's already running."
Brendon's happy to comply, dumping the plates into the sink, as Ryan balances the plates carefully along the edge. Any excuse to get away from the table is a good one and Brendon tugs at Ryan's hand to get him upstairs.
"Mom, we'll be in my room," he calls out. "Working on a science project."
Whatever her answer is is cut off by his door and Brendon throws himself down on his bed enthusiastically.
"Science project?" Ryan asks.
Brendon's laugh is smothered by pillows as he wiggles around, trying to get comfortable. "You go to my school," he informs Ryan.
When he looks up, peeking out from behind his covers, Ryan's watching him with a weird look. Once he sees that Brendon's noticed though, his gaze detaches and wanders around the room.
"You don't have to stand by the door," Brendon says. "Here, come sit down or something." There aren't any open chairs in his room like there were in Ryan's so he scoots over on the bed to give him room.
Eventually Ryan seems satisfied with his inspection of Brendon's room and takes a tentative seat on the end of the bed. "I should go."
"Where?" Brendon asks, voice muffled but curious.
The half-second that Ryan hesitates is enough to tell Brendon that he really shouldn't go. "Home," he replies, without sounding convinced and Brendon flops over onto Ryan's side of the bed and looks up at him with big eyes.
"Stay for a while. We really need to finish this science project."
Ryan's mouth lifts in brief amusement and Brendon knows he has him. "Really, I should-"
"Stay," Brendon says firmly. "Do you need to call home and say that you're going to be staying over here a while?"
Ryan shakes his head slowly after a moment and Brendon settles himself across Ryan's lap, elbows avoiding sensitive parts and looking up at him. "So, that dog. It was eying the cake..." (Part Five)