Beautiful. Four/?
Title: Beautiful. Part Four/?
Author: hooray4irony
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ryden
POV: Ryan's, then Brendon's, then Ryan's again. :P
Summary:
Music blasted once again, and when I came back over to stand in front of Ryan, he was smiling lightly and blushing, shuffling from one foot to the other.
I smiled and began to sway my hips from side to side.
Ryan then began to copy, giving me a lopsided grin and a little giggle as he moved his hips awkwardly with mine.
Disclaimer: Do. Not. Own. Bitches. :P
Beta: xojemmaxo
Author Notes: Well. I am so, so sorry about the wait. Really, I am. In fact, I'm so sorry, that I drew a picture of Pete and Ryan that I will post possibly this weekend. I'm pretty sure you people will like it. Jemma did. Very much.
Again, I'm sorry about the wait but I had the worst writers block I've ever had, but now it's gone and now Beautiful is here so READ!
:P
Thanks for being so patient!
P.s Sorry about the length. The next one will be much longer and much more eventful! XD
<3
Previous Chapters:
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
RYAN'S POV
Three Days Later
"Hello, Ryan. How are you feeling today?"
I shrugged. I was sick of everything at the moment, but was I going to tell him that so he could use it against me? No.
"Did you have any nightmares last night?"
It always started like this. Every one of these seemingly pointless sessions was the same as the last; asking how I felt; then asking what nightmares I had and trying to get into my mind so everybody could hurt me.
"Yes."
Howard leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hands together.
"Can you tell me about it?" he asked. There was a weird glint in his eye, like if I told him about my dream then I would just suddenly break down and spill my guts out to him. Like that was going to happen.
"I probably could..." I paused for dramatic effect and to see the glint in his eye get stronger. "But i'm not going to."
Howard's face fell and he leaned back in his chair again. He grabbed his notepad and pen that he used every time we had one of these sessions and began scribbling down shit. Most likely about me and the breakthrough he'll never get.
"So, Ryan... do you like it here? In this house, I mean?"
I gave a short nod. But the truth was, I really didn't. Apart from the fact that Brendon was so nice to me all the time and nobody had hit me yet, I hated it in this house. Everything was so different than with Pete. I got confused about almost everything that wasn't related to sex and punishment, and nobody had told me where my place was.
"Well," Howard went on, "that's good. It's important for you to feel safe in this environment, and for you to have the best possible chances of fully recovering."
I supressed the strong urge to roll my eyes at him. It was all fake.
"So, Ryan... I've been told that before you began these sessions with me, you had been having these... episodes. Can you please explain these for me?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Howard sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He stared at me.
"Kate said the first time was about three days ago. She said you panicked... ran from the table... you were screaming and throwing things around..."
I thought back to that day and shuddered.
"Ryan? If you tell me then maybe we can find out what that was and give you something to help stop them."
I closed my eyes and nodded.
"I... It felt like... he... was there with me. It felt like he was touching me and saying things in my ear. I-I thought... It seemed like I was suddenly back with him and..." As I explained this, my hand came up to my chest and my fingers absently touched the cuts that were turning to scabs.
Howard wrote stuff down, occasionally glancing up at me over the top of his glasses.
When I didn't continue, Howard pushed his glasses up his nose and put the pad and pen down on the table beside his chair.
"Well, Ryan, from what you've told me, it sounds like you were experiencing a 'Flashback'. These are like nightmares, but they happen when you are awake. You re-experience what you've gone through. Like certain emotions you felt, what you saw or heard... and you can't tell the difference sometimes between then and now."
Howard spoke softly, giving me a sympathetic look. I didn't want sympathy. I didn't want anything he was offering.
"I'll talk to Kate about this and how she can help you when you have the flashbacks," said Howard, pushing his glasses up his nose again and writing on his notepad again. How much could he have to write?
The session went on to its usual path, and after a few more questions and talking, mostly on Howards part, I was allowed to leave. I walked out the door to find Brendon, leaning against a wall and waiting for me.
He gave me a small wave.
"Hey, Ry," he said cheerfully.
The boy never seemed to run out of happiness.
******************
"I- I still can't do it," I said. I threw my pencil down and leaned back in my chair with a long, defeated sigh.
"That's okay, Ryan. We'll just keep trying," my tutor, Lisa, assured. She grabbed a fresh piece of paper and began to write down the alphabet again. This time, she drew them in two different ways, which was totally beyond me. Lisa explained that one was in 'lower case' and the other was in 'capitals'. She then explained that each had a certain purpose and that you can use them in all sorts of ways.
Everything she said just flew into one ear and out the other. I didn't think she understood that I actually didn't know anything.
She must have read the expression on my face because she began to pack everything into her bag.
"How about we have a break for today and continue this tomorrow?"
************************
BRENDON'S POV
The day was turning into evening as I watched the sun disappear into the ground. It was quiet in the house, most people choosing to quietly watch television or read a book. It seemed wrong to disturb the peace of the afternoon. That is, until Ryan entered the bedroom.
He was shaking and sobbing and mumbling something under his breath all at once, seeming at a loss of what to do. Tears streamed down his cheeks and snot dribbled from his nose. He looked at me with fear and pleading in his eyes.
"Ry, what's wrong?" I asked, moving to stand before to the sobbing boy.
"I-I- he- I was-" Ryan cried harder, frustrated at the fact that he couldn't get out a simple sentence.
"Ry," I said gently, taking hold of his elbow with slow, easy movements. I didn't want to scare him away.
"Ryan, just take a deep, slow breath, and then tell me what happened."
I led him to his bed after grabbing some tissues from the box on my bedside table and giving them to him. He just clutched them tightly in his hand. Once he was seated, I sat down next to him. Close enough to be comfortable but not close enough that we were touching.
Ryan nodded and inhaled sharply several times before drawing in a deep, shuddering breath.
Once he was breathing properly, I said, "Now, tell me what happened."
Ryan nodded. His eyes were trained on something out the window, occasionally flickering to spots or objects around the room. But they never landed on me.
"I'm sorry, but I was outside and-"
"Wait, why are you sorry?"
Ryan's eyes landed on me now and he froze, seeming to pick at and pull apart the question.
"What?" he asked softly.
"Why are you sorry you were outside?"
"Because I didn't ask to go outside..." he said slowly, as if trying to convince himself of the explanation, too.
"Ryan, you don't have to ask to go outside, you know? What happened when you went out there?"
Ryan stared down at his lap before shaking his head.
"Nothing, I-"
"Something must have shaken you up. People don't act like that for no reason, Ry," I told him gently.
"I, um, I- I just had one of those... things again. Howard thinks they're called 'flashbacks' or something. I don't know."
Even though we both knew he was lying, I let it drop.
**********
"Hey, Ry?"
"Yes, Brendon?" Ryan looked up from where he was attempting to copy the letters Lisa gave him earlier this morning.
"Do you like The Smashing Pumpkins?"
Ryan raised his eyebrow, saying, "What's a Smashing Pumpkin?"
I gaped at him.
"What's a Smashing Pum- oh my god. They're a band and you'll probably, most-likely, possibly, maybe love them," I exclaimed, rushing over to my shitload of cds in a box under my bed. I pulled out one by The Smashing Pumpkins, and and chucked it in the stereo.
"Pete was in a band. Patrick, too. They called it Fall Out Boy," said Ryan.
"Yeah? Well, The Smashing Pumpkins is, like, the best band ever -- along with Journey, Coldplay and, like, so many others..."
Ryan just nodded along like he understood what I was talking about.
I set the cd to one of my favourite tracks; 'Tonight, Tonight'.
A grin slowly spread across my face as the music blasted through the speakers. I turned to Ryan to see the tiniest hint of a smile ghosting his lips. I wanted that smile to grow.
As the instrumental turned into words, I began to sing along with the first verse. Ryan's gaze fell upon me, his smile turning into something like awe.
I closed my eyes and lost myself in the music and words. By the time the chorus rolled around, I was swinging my hips violently and moving around the room. I heard something like a giggle fill the air over the song and I opened my eyes to find Ryan with a hand over his mouth. His eyes were bright.
I gave him a lopsided grin.
"You think my dancing is funny, do you?" I asked, waggling my eyebrows and shimmying towards him.
Ryan unclutched and let out an easy laugh. It was seriously better music to my ears than the song pumping through the speakers.
Knowing that my idiocy was making Ryan happy, I began to dance even more. My hips swung; my arms did something close to a flail; my ass shook and my head bobbed and by the end of it, Ryan was hysterical, clutching his stomach and rolling around on his bed.
I kind of suddenly wanted to watch him swing his hips and flail his arms, too.
"You want to dance with me?"
Ryan inhaled -- well, more gasped -- a breath and wiped his eyes.
"I can't dance," he said, some of the laughter dying in his voice.
"Aw, come on. I'll show you. Anyway, I wouldn't really call what I just did dancing." I walked over to where he was sitting and held out my hand.
Ryan looked at it warily before nodding slowly and placing his fingers in my palm.
"Okay," he murmured.
I grinned and pulled him to the centre of the room, letting go of his hand to change the cd. I pulled out some random cd and set it up in the stereo.
Music blasted once again, and when I came back over to stand in front of Ryan, he was smiling lightly and blushing, shuffling from one foot to the other.
I smiled and began to sway my hips from side to side.
Ryan then began to copy, giving me a lopsided grin and a little giggle as he moved his hips awkwardly with mine.
*******************
"Brendon... Brendon --"
I sat up with a gasp and Ryan, who was standing next to my bed, flinched.
I wiped my face which, I suddenly realised, was wet with sweat and tears, and looked at Ryan. He was also crying.
"Ry," I murmured, "what's wrong?"
Ryan brought his hands up to his chest and cast his watery eyes at the floor.
"I -- you were having a bad dream and -- I was too, but you -- I didn't --" More tears fell down his cheeks.
I hushed him and opened my arms. Ryan crawled slowly, carefully, onto the bed and settled himself hesitantly against my chest.
I was surprised. Ryan didn't normally give in this easily and sometimes he wouldn't do it at all.
I wrapped my arms around him and I felt him snuggle deeper into my chest, burying his nose in my shirt.
"Are you okay?" I whispered.
I felt him nod and we both relaxed a little bit.
******************
RYAN'S POV
I woke up and almost started crying.
My heart was suddenly in my throat and I was frozen to the bed, plastered to Brendon's side with his arm wrapped almost protectively around my waist.
My pyjama pants felt too hot and too tight, and I was uncomfortable and sweaty.
Brendon murmured something incoherent in his sleep and snuggled closer.
I needed to get myself away from Brendon; he reminded me too much of the dream I'd just woken up from. That fucking dream that I had to have while I was pressed against Brendon. I hadn't woken up like this since I'd woken up next to Pete, hard and dreaming of someone other than him. He threw me into the shower, blasted the taps to freezing cold and forced me to stay there for well over two hours while he watched. Afterwards, he pinned me to the bed and thrust violently into me, reminding me of who I belong to and should be dreaming of.
I really didn't want to go through that again.
But stupid Brendon with his stupid full, pouty lips and his stupid hips and stupid brown eyes and stupid ass and stupid milky white skin. He was stupidly perfect and too beautiful.
My erection strained painfully against my underwear and I was thankful of the fact that I wasn't facing towards Brendon.
After a few minutes of my mind going insane and trying to come up with a plan of what to do, Brendon shifted beside me and stretched.
I couldn't help my eyes wandering down to the strip of exposed skin above his pyjama pants as he pulled his arms high over his head, causing his t-shirt to ride up his torso --
I quickly looked away before I did or said something stupid.
"Good morning, Ry," he mumbled through a yawn once he'd finished teasing me.
"Morning," I croaked and winced.
"You okay?"
I nodded, trying to give him a smile. It was tight and probably looked forced.
"No, you're not. What's wrong? You look sick -- are you feeling alright?"
"Yes, Brendon, just -- fuck --"
The only way out was to bolt from the bed and run in to the bathroom.
I slammed the door shut and locked it, panting against the wall as I shoved my hand down my pants and grasped my cock desperately. Pete was going to kill me if he ever found out I had had a dream -- a fantastic dream at that -- about someone other than him.
Author: hooray4irony
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ryden
POV: Ryan's, then Brendon's, then Ryan's again. :P
Summary:
Music blasted once again, and when I came back over to stand in front of Ryan, he was smiling lightly and blushing, shuffling from one foot to the other.
I smiled and began to sway my hips from side to side.
Ryan then began to copy, giving me a lopsided grin and a little giggle as he moved his hips awkwardly with mine.
Disclaimer: Do. Not. Own. Bitches. :P
Beta: xojemmaxo
Author Notes: Well. I am so, so sorry about the wait. Really, I am. In fact, I'm so sorry, that I drew a picture of Pete and Ryan that I will post possibly this weekend. I'm pretty sure you people will like it. Jemma did. Very much.
Again, I'm sorry about the wait but I had the worst writers block I've ever had, but now it's gone and now Beautiful is here so READ!
:P
Thanks for being so patient!
P.s Sorry about the length. The next one will be much longer and much more eventful! XD
<3
Previous Chapters:
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
RYAN'S POV
Three Days Later
"Hello, Ryan. How are you feeling today?"
I shrugged. I was sick of everything at the moment, but was I going to tell him that so he could use it against me? No.
"Did you have any nightmares last night?"
It always started like this. Every one of these seemingly pointless sessions was the same as the last; asking how I felt; then asking what nightmares I had and trying to get into my mind so everybody could hurt me.
"Yes."
Howard leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hands together.
"Can you tell me about it?" he asked. There was a weird glint in his eye, like if I told him about my dream then I would just suddenly break down and spill my guts out to him. Like that was going to happen.
"I probably could..." I paused for dramatic effect and to see the glint in his eye get stronger. "But i'm not going to."
Howard's face fell and he leaned back in his chair again. He grabbed his notepad and pen that he used every time we had one of these sessions and began scribbling down shit. Most likely about me and the breakthrough he'll never get.
"So, Ryan... do you like it here? In this house, I mean?"
I gave a short nod. But the truth was, I really didn't. Apart from the fact that Brendon was so nice to me all the time and nobody had hit me yet, I hated it in this house. Everything was so different than with Pete. I got confused about almost everything that wasn't related to sex and punishment, and nobody had told me where my place was.
"Well," Howard went on, "that's good. It's important for you to feel safe in this environment, and for you to have the best possible chances of fully recovering."
I supressed the strong urge to roll my eyes at him. It was all fake.
"So, Ryan... I've been told that before you began these sessions with me, you had been having these... episodes. Can you please explain these for me?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Howard sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He stared at me.
"Kate said the first time was about three days ago. She said you panicked... ran from the table... you were screaming and throwing things around..."
I thought back to that day and shuddered.
"Ryan? If you tell me then maybe we can find out what that was and give you something to help stop them."
I closed my eyes and nodded.
"I... It felt like... he... was there with me. It felt like he was touching me and saying things in my ear. I-I thought... It seemed like I was suddenly back with him and..." As I explained this, my hand came up to my chest and my fingers absently touched the cuts that were turning to scabs.
Howard wrote stuff down, occasionally glancing up at me over the top of his glasses.
When I didn't continue, Howard pushed his glasses up his nose and put the pad and pen down on the table beside his chair.
"Well, Ryan, from what you've told me, it sounds like you were experiencing a 'Flashback'. These are like nightmares, but they happen when you are awake. You re-experience what you've gone through. Like certain emotions you felt, what you saw or heard... and you can't tell the difference sometimes between then and now."
Howard spoke softly, giving me a sympathetic look. I didn't want sympathy. I didn't want anything he was offering.
"I'll talk to Kate about this and how she can help you when you have the flashbacks," said Howard, pushing his glasses up his nose again and writing on his notepad again. How much could he have to write?
The session went on to its usual path, and after a few more questions and talking, mostly on Howards part, I was allowed to leave. I walked out the door to find Brendon, leaning against a wall and waiting for me.
He gave me a small wave.
"Hey, Ry," he said cheerfully.
The boy never seemed to run out of happiness.
******************
"I- I still can't do it," I said. I threw my pencil down and leaned back in my chair with a long, defeated sigh.
"That's okay, Ryan. We'll just keep trying," my tutor, Lisa, assured. She grabbed a fresh piece of paper and began to write down the alphabet again. This time, she drew them in two different ways, which was totally beyond me. Lisa explained that one was in 'lower case' and the other was in 'capitals'. She then explained that each had a certain purpose and that you can use them in all sorts of ways.
Everything she said just flew into one ear and out the other. I didn't think she understood that I actually didn't know anything.
She must have read the expression on my face because she began to pack everything into her bag.
"How about we have a break for today and continue this tomorrow?"
************************
BRENDON'S POV
The day was turning into evening as I watched the sun disappear into the ground. It was quiet in the house, most people choosing to quietly watch television or read a book. It seemed wrong to disturb the peace of the afternoon. That is, until Ryan entered the bedroom.
He was shaking and sobbing and mumbling something under his breath all at once, seeming at a loss of what to do. Tears streamed down his cheeks and snot dribbled from his nose. He looked at me with fear and pleading in his eyes.
"Ry, what's wrong?" I asked, moving to stand before to the sobbing boy.
"I-I- he- I was-" Ryan cried harder, frustrated at the fact that he couldn't get out a simple sentence.
"Ry," I said gently, taking hold of his elbow with slow, easy movements. I didn't want to scare him away.
"Ryan, just take a deep, slow breath, and then tell me what happened."
I led him to his bed after grabbing some tissues from the box on my bedside table and giving them to him. He just clutched them tightly in his hand. Once he was seated, I sat down next to him. Close enough to be comfortable but not close enough that we were touching.
Ryan nodded and inhaled sharply several times before drawing in a deep, shuddering breath.
Once he was breathing properly, I said, "Now, tell me what happened."
Ryan nodded. His eyes were trained on something out the window, occasionally flickering to spots or objects around the room. But they never landed on me.
"I'm sorry, but I was outside and-"
"Wait, why are you sorry?"
Ryan's eyes landed on me now and he froze, seeming to pick at and pull apart the question.
"What?" he asked softly.
"Why are you sorry you were outside?"
"Because I didn't ask to go outside..." he said slowly, as if trying to convince himself of the explanation, too.
"Ryan, you don't have to ask to go outside, you know? What happened when you went out there?"
Ryan stared down at his lap before shaking his head.
"Nothing, I-"
"Something must have shaken you up. People don't act like that for no reason, Ry," I told him gently.
"I, um, I- I just had one of those... things again. Howard thinks they're called 'flashbacks' or something. I don't know."
Even though we both knew he was lying, I let it drop.
**********
"Hey, Ry?"
"Yes, Brendon?" Ryan looked up from where he was attempting to copy the letters Lisa gave him earlier this morning.
"Do you like The Smashing Pumpkins?"
Ryan raised his eyebrow, saying, "What's a Smashing Pumpkin?"
I gaped at him.
"What's a Smashing Pum- oh my god. They're a band and you'll probably, most-likely, possibly, maybe love them," I exclaimed, rushing over to my shitload of cds in a box under my bed. I pulled out one by The Smashing Pumpkins, and and chucked it in the stereo.
"Pete was in a band. Patrick, too. They called it Fall Out Boy," said Ryan.
"Yeah? Well, The Smashing Pumpkins is, like, the best band ever -- along with Journey, Coldplay and, like, so many others..."
Ryan just nodded along like he understood what I was talking about.
I set the cd to one of my favourite tracks; 'Tonight, Tonight'.
A grin slowly spread across my face as the music blasted through the speakers. I turned to Ryan to see the tiniest hint of a smile ghosting his lips. I wanted that smile to grow.
As the instrumental turned into words, I began to sing along with the first verse. Ryan's gaze fell upon me, his smile turning into something like awe.
I closed my eyes and lost myself in the music and words. By the time the chorus rolled around, I was swinging my hips violently and moving around the room. I heard something like a giggle fill the air over the song and I opened my eyes to find Ryan with a hand over his mouth. His eyes were bright.
I gave him a lopsided grin.
"You think my dancing is funny, do you?" I asked, waggling my eyebrows and shimmying towards him.
Ryan unclutched and let out an easy laugh. It was seriously better music to my ears than the song pumping through the speakers.
Knowing that my idiocy was making Ryan happy, I began to dance even more. My hips swung; my arms did something close to a flail; my ass shook and my head bobbed and by the end of it, Ryan was hysterical, clutching his stomach and rolling around on his bed.
I kind of suddenly wanted to watch him swing his hips and flail his arms, too.
"You want to dance with me?"
Ryan inhaled -- well, more gasped -- a breath and wiped his eyes.
"I can't dance," he said, some of the laughter dying in his voice.
"Aw, come on. I'll show you. Anyway, I wouldn't really call what I just did dancing." I walked over to where he was sitting and held out my hand.
Ryan looked at it warily before nodding slowly and placing his fingers in my palm.
"Okay," he murmured.
I grinned and pulled him to the centre of the room, letting go of his hand to change the cd. I pulled out some random cd and set it up in the stereo.
Music blasted once again, and when I came back over to stand in front of Ryan, he was smiling lightly and blushing, shuffling from one foot to the other.
I smiled and began to sway my hips from side to side.
Ryan then began to copy, giving me a lopsided grin and a little giggle as he moved his hips awkwardly with mine.
*******************
"Brendon... Brendon --"
I sat up with a gasp and Ryan, who was standing next to my bed, flinched.
I wiped my face which, I suddenly realised, was wet with sweat and tears, and looked at Ryan. He was also crying.
"Ry," I murmured, "what's wrong?"
Ryan brought his hands up to his chest and cast his watery eyes at the floor.
"I -- you were having a bad dream and -- I was too, but you -- I didn't --" More tears fell down his cheeks.
I hushed him and opened my arms. Ryan crawled slowly, carefully, onto the bed and settled himself hesitantly against my chest.
I was surprised. Ryan didn't normally give in this easily and sometimes he wouldn't do it at all.
I wrapped my arms around him and I felt him snuggle deeper into my chest, burying his nose in my shirt.
"Are you okay?" I whispered.
I felt him nod and we both relaxed a little bit.
******************
RYAN'S POV
I woke up and almost started crying.
My heart was suddenly in my throat and I was frozen to the bed, plastered to Brendon's side with his arm wrapped almost protectively around my waist.
My pyjama pants felt too hot and too tight, and I was uncomfortable and sweaty.
Brendon murmured something incoherent in his sleep and snuggled closer.
I needed to get myself away from Brendon; he reminded me too much of the dream I'd just woken up from. That fucking dream that I had to have while I was pressed against Brendon. I hadn't woken up like this since I'd woken up next to Pete, hard and dreaming of someone other than him. He threw me into the shower, blasted the taps to freezing cold and forced me to stay there for well over two hours while he watched. Afterwards, he pinned me to the bed and thrust violently into me, reminding me of who I belong to and should be dreaming of.
I really didn't want to go through that again.
But stupid Brendon with his stupid full, pouty lips and his stupid hips and stupid brown eyes and stupid ass and stupid milky white skin. He was stupidly perfect and too beautiful.
My erection strained painfully against my underwear and I was thankful of the fact that I wasn't facing towards Brendon.
After a few minutes of my mind going insane and trying to come up with a plan of what to do, Brendon shifted beside me and stretched.
I couldn't help my eyes wandering down to the strip of exposed skin above his pyjama pants as he pulled his arms high over his head, causing his t-shirt to ride up his torso --
I quickly looked away before I did or said something stupid.
"Good morning, Ry," he mumbled through a yawn once he'd finished teasing me.
"Morning," I croaked and winced.
"You okay?"
I nodded, trying to give him a smile. It was tight and probably looked forced.
"No, you're not. What's wrong? You look sick -- are you feeling alright?"
"Yes, Brendon, just -- fuck --"
The only way out was to bolt from the bed and run in to the bathroom.
I slammed the door shut and locked it, panting against the wall as I shoved my hand down my pants and grasped my cock desperately. Pete was going to kill me if he ever found out I had had a dream -- a fantastic dream at that -- about someone other than him.