We Are All The Same, Only Habits Change [9/?]
Title: We Are All The Same, Only Habits Change [9/?]
Author: makeapanicscene who writes Brendon, and melody_so_sweet who writes Ryan.
Beta:rydenross_urie
Rating: PG-13 at the most
Pairing: Ryden (possibly more to come)
POV: Brendon and Ryan's (switches)
Summary: High School fic. Meet one boy, who gets confused with a new mysterious guy and another that resembles him. Will he finally pin point the two other guys and have a exciting new year? Will it all lead to love?
Disclaimer: We don't own the boys, or anyone mentioned in this story. (We also do not own any of the songs mentioned)
Author Notes: We wrote this with the inspiration from FBR's new band, Versaemerge and we thought Blake Harnage looks like Brendon. See?
One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight
~Brendon~
Even though this isn’t a date (though I had hoped it would be), Ryan looks smashing. His hair is perfect and soft as can be-not to mention fluffy enough to touch or pet, in my condition. If this were to be a date, I would totally hold his hand, though nerves would overtake me. I looked at his posture while he ate his ice cream and when I sipped at my milkshake. It was as if he were keeping a secret from me. He’s so skinny; I figured he was still hungry. I didn’t even know what he was thinking about when we saw each other at the movies.
I wore one of my casual but nicer shirts. What I love about Ryan is that he doesn’t always speak his mind or show what he’s thinking, it seems. He keeps it interesting and it’s mysterious, but on the other hand, I want to know what’s going on inside his head. That would show he really cares about what I have to say, but if that’s the person Ryan really is I’ll accept it no matter what.
When we chatted about how great it’ll be to jam to different songs we recently mentioned, Ryan looked like he got the best present ever. Songs that we enjoyed listening to made it seem so much like a dream-but more enjoyable than ever. We finished up and then the silence started to creep up to us. I walked quicker to catch up with Ryan and his long legs, and when we were a block away from the park I picked up my pace and started to walk in that direction.
Finally walking through the gate, we both walked over to the bench and sat down. Talking about more ideas awkwardly, I tried as best I could to make the conversation comfortable. That summer where he had to go away for a week, Ryan seemed like he was glad to finally do something that he loved to do, which dealt with English.
This kid is such a bookworm I swear.
When he was finishing up his story, the look on his face got a bit confused and concerned while the chime of my cell phone told me I had a text message. My back tensed but my hand never moved to take a look at who had sent it. I probably wouldn’t check it until I was home, otherwise I’d interrupt Ryan’s story or his words.
I was explaining the summer I had and about my big piano contest when a golden retriever puppy nudged my shin. Those things are one of the cutest breeds I know. I pause what I have to say and look down to see the shiny coat walking in circles trying to find its toy. He goes behind my shoe and the dog tries to move it. I bend down, reach forwards and find a small, red ball. He eyes it and I throw it to the owner, letting the puppy whimper before running to chase it on the green, grassy field a few yards away.
“I’ve always wanted a dog,” Ryan says to me.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “A beagle.”
“I love their floppy, long ears and their noses.”
“Their paws are the best part Brendon!”
“Are you serious? We’re going to argue about what we like best about beagles? Really?”
“Can you just admit that the paws are better?”
“Fine, but if you name your puppy Floppy, don’t come crying to me when you say that the ears are the best part of the breed.”
“Oh, so you think the ears are better, huh?”
“I’m trying to make somewhat of a point here.”
“Yeah, go ahead…Confuse yourself…”
“I already am confused, Ryan. I feel like… what the hell just happened.”
Ryan laughs almost hysterically and I laugh with him. Just doing things and then laughing about them is the best thing ever in a conversation.
And I don’t mean to connect it with dogs whatsoever.
For an hour I’ve talked to Ryan and no wonder he has amazing friends- he’s an amazing person himself. During that time, the wind picked up and I could feel he was already getting cold. I offered my jacket when I saw the tiny goosebumps on his arms while the trees blew in the air.
“No thanks,” he replied softly to me. I look at him with concern and feel really bad because who wants to be cold and uncomfortable? I let out a breath and shift away from Ryan to take off my jacket. I hand it to him and he gives me a really shocking look and I tell him to use it.
“You’ll probably thank me for it later.”
“What?”
“Ryan, you’re cold. You have goosebumps and I can feel you shivering. You’ll feel better. Just take my jacket - I don’t have cooties.”
“Fine… Thanks,” he says, stretching out his arms to put it on. Being skinny, it looks sorta big on him, but it suits the purpose. It mostly goes with what he’s wearing-a hunter green v-neck shirt with dark washed jeans, while I’m wearing a faded blue shirt with black buttons. Don’t ask why I decided to dress up more than I normally do. It’s what I was comfortable with and the first thing in my closet so… yeah, shut up. I didn’t dress up for Ryan whatsoever.
After we freeze up in our sitting positions, Ryan glares at me and I raise my eyebrows, wondering why he’s giving me that look. He puts the wisps of light brown hair behind his ears and does it again when the wind makes his whole head of hair fly all over the place. I look away, embarrassed from watching him when his dry, still voice interrupts the quiet surroundings around us.
“You’re right. Thank you for helping me out. I was cold and I didn’t recognize it at all. It’s just-”
“Ryan, don’t worry about it alright? I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”
“But you never did.”
Are we arguing again? Please, no no no… Even if we are arguing, is it a good thing? I try to drop it by nodding slightly. I watch a little girl running to her mother that’s trying to leave on the other side of the field. I didn’t realize that Ryan had shifted closer to me and had a content smile on his face while I stared into the distance. I guess it’s something that didn’t even come to mind either. When the two of them exited the park area and walked towards their car, my attention came to the now warmed up Ryan, probably wondering why I’m “ignoring” him. I feel his bony shoulder next to mine and blinking, I look up at him. He slowly backs away to his regular position, looking at his hands doing so.
Just looking at him gives me the shivers as well. I strongly glance at him until he looks up. Looking into his honey eyes with the sunlight going down to dusk, I grin and he returns it back to me. The grin turns into a smile and before I know it, it illuminates his entire face so much that he has to look away.
“I’m having a great time even though the movie sold out.”
“Yeah, me too. Sometimes it’s better to make your own fun.”
“Brendon, come on, it seems like you do it all the time with your piano playing.”
“Maybe I do, but can I ask you something? Do you feel like you’re up for your own challenges that scare or set you back?”
For some time, he thinks and blinks in concentration before nodding. “Yeah,” he replies, rubbing his temple, “everyday. Just sometimes I have to be strong enough to just accept it and try as much as I can in order to do it. And it’s mostly for me. Even if it’s for a grade, I try to make sure that it’s for my own benefit before it ‘counts for something.’”
What the hell was he just talking about? Benefits and counting for something?
“But what if you try to have fun while doing it, wouldn’t that get you further? You don’t always have to prove things. I guess it’s using it to your ability for when you need it the most.”
Ryan stares at me and I’m not sure what I just said, but I know it’s making him think. I really hope whatever he’s thinking isn’t anything negative. I look into his eyes and try to look for some explanation but I don’t get anything except a shy grin plastered on his face.
“Hey, I only play piano, okay? I’m not a psychologist or anything by any means.”
“But no, that is something good to think about though. I guess I’ve been trying proving something to myself but not really sure what I was trying to prove.”
“I’m not a professional!” Ryan laughs and really looks happy. “I’m really not!”
“Okay, okay,” he said between laughs as he settles down from it.
“But yeah, it seems to be getting late and I should really be getting home before my mom freaks out.”
“Eek, yeah, we don’t want that,” he replies standing up. I do the same slowly and we follow back to Ryan’s near the movies. “Hey, would you like a ride home?”
“No thanks. I don’t live far.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, it’s no big deal.”
“Alright then. I’ll see you later.”
I walk away and start to walk when Ryan calls my name and I turn around.
“Brendon, you’ll be cold and you’ll feel better. I promise you that I don’t have cooties,” Ryan mocks with a smile, handing me the jacket.
“Thanks,” I say smiling widely back as I put it on. I look at his posture and placement of his hands. They were in front of him with a hand wrapping around the other and as I turned away again, I felt his eyes still looking at my back. I walk a few steps before looking back to see him getting into the car and quickly hearing the engine turning as he drove away. I look back to see him going the opposite direction and I could have sworn he was looking through the rear view mirror.
*
School again. The next day during lunch, I saw Blake in the lunch line only two people away from me. I had forgotten to make my lunch the previous night and now I’m located in the lunch line for something gross. Looking at the choices for today’s lunch, I try not to make a face and finally choose a salad.
“Hey Blake,” I say, politely as I can.
“Oh, um, hi Brendon. Nice to see you.” And like that, he runs off paying for his lunch and I pause to see him walking quickly towards Ryan and sits down where I used to when Spencer had invited me the other day. Thinking that Blake had taken my seat, I pay for my lunch and walk out of the room and head to the main doors. I sit down on the stone railing where trees surround the area, while the stone steps go all the way down the street. I place my bag on the step down and shake my head. It hasn’t even been a week since I’ve met Blake and already he’s been making my life here a total wreck. Taking the plastic cover off of the aluminum plate of my salad, I begin to eat. Looking into the distance at a car driving past the school makes me wonder why I even came in the beginning. Ever since he came back from his grandma, my life here hasn’t been inviting at all.
Finishing off my last bite of lettuce, I try to look for a wastebasket and when that was not to be found, I stick the remains in my bag, breathing in the air.
“How come you’re not eating lunch with us?” Spencer suddenly asked as I shrugged uncaringly. “We don’t want you to eat alone. No one deserves to.” I look up and his blue eyes look gloomy to me, trying to see if I was going to answer him.
“No, I’m fine.” Spencer frowned and backed away slowly.
“Well alright. I guess I’ll talk to you later.” In seconds, he disappeared and about ten minutes before the bell rang, I went back inside and found Blake at his locker.
“Well, hey, it’s the show off.”
I turn around towards Blake’s direction and see something that might not turn out to be pretty. “What?”
“You heard me. Everyone knows you’re just a show Brendon,” Blake said with envy.
“I really don’t understand what you have against me. I’m trying to-”
“-Be nice? What if I didn’t even want to meet you in the first place? Huh?”
“Why don’t you listen to people instead of getting warped into thinking you’re everything? To be honest, you’re really not.”
“I’m everything you’re not Brendon. No matter how much you try, you won’t be great enough.”
“At least I’m--”
“What is going on?” I look back and see Spencer with Ryan. They look back and forth, trying to check out the scene and whatever the situation is, I try to be strong. My hand clenches into a fist and when Spencer asks again if everything is alright, I answer that it is. They nod, turn around and walk off. Blake waits for them to walk down the hall before saying anything more.
“You shouldn’t come here anymore. No one would miss you for sure.” I flinch when Blake closes the locker really close to my shoulder. I darken my eyes when I see him going for me when out of nowhere, he gets pushed by Jon.
He tries to attack me even though Jon is holding him back and I’m too shocked to do anything right now. I get slapped in the face by Blake and there are million of thoughts running through my mind all at once.
“Stop it!” Jon yells out. “Why are you starting shit with Brendon? Have you even took the time to even get to know him, you’ll find out that he’s better hanging out with than you! Don’t you dare treat him like that! He doesn’t--” There are people filing out towards the area, watching us to see what would happen next. Before I knew it, I motion Jon to release Blake and I kick him.
The bell rings- a sign that lunch is over. I stare at Blake who is hunched over, trying to find any relief for himself. I then look at Jon and smile slightly for protecting helping me and right when people walk around us trying to get to class, I see Spencer and Ryan staring at the three of us and I browse over Spencer’s face. He looked so shocked that his mouth was slightly open while Ryan stood there blank like a piece of paper, just begging to be written on. I check out Ryan and sent him a look that is crossed between a blank and a “why didn’t you do anything and why do you have a shitty friend?” look. I look at Blake once more and walk off. Sometimes doing the unexpected of yourself really shocks you to no end.
I run off to the direction that no one was headed and went to class. Since we had a substitute, I excused myself and entered the bathroom. When I noticed that no one was in there, I went into one of the stalls and broke down crying. The last ten minutes up until now were the worst for such a long time. I don’t even remember the last time I cried so much from having to deal with someone. I punch the bathroom stall with a bang and close my eyes.
I think about playing piano and hitting my fingers on the proper chords that would express what I’m feeling this exact moment. The noise sounds like an angry trash can being slammed into the pavement and the aggravated grumbles from a person, or the anger that you feel from listening to a blank CD when all you wanted to hear was music. Maybe the last thing was for the annoying factor, but I guess playing piano and breaking it would sound like something that would get someone upset. Am I wrong?
I take a breath, but it’s muffled by more sobs when I hear my name being called by a soothing voice.
“Brendon?” I take a link of toilet paper and wipe the liquidly snot from my nose before unlocking the door and seeing Spencer in front of me. I walk slowly towards him and he pulls me into a huge hug. I relax in his grip, and with him rubbing my back he immediately comforts me. “I’m so sorry that he’s been doing that to you. What Jon said to him was really true. You’re a good person. All three of us can see that clearly.”
Jon and Spencer are gods right now. They deserve to be together because they make people like me totally feel like a whole new person. “You’ll always have us Brendon, I hope you know that. Blake is an asshole and Jon finally gave me the proof that he’s not the person that all of us thought he was. I think Ryan was going to fall down from all of the shock. Just please, don’t listen to him, alright?” I nod and finally take a huge but trembling deep breath. I step out from him and wipe my eyes. I walk to the faucet and rinse my face, followed by drying it with paper towels.
“Thank y-you,” I say to him, looking at him through the mirror.
“Don’t mention it. Things will get better, I promise.” Nodding again, I see him smile right when he starts to walk backwards out of the bathroom, facing me the entire time. How the hell did he know that I was going to be in here? All of the classroom doors were closed and no one was in the hallway when I came in here, so how did he know what I was doing?
*
Once school was over for the day, I took my things and walked outside, ignoring anyone else that glanced at me or surrounded me in that matter. I sit in the same spot that I did during lunch and watch everyone going down the steps to their cars or as they walked off campus. When I knew I was alone, I darted back to the piano room and took a seat in my usual spot. For one split second, the keys feel foreign to me beneath my fingers and when feeling confident and free, they traveled all over the place creating multiple feelings mixing into one whole composition. Creating an ending to it, I see a shadow on the wood of the piano and a pathway of air that smelt familiar. Ringing out the last note, Ryan sat on the edge of the other stool which was close to mine. He looked over but didn’t glance at me at that exact same moment. It was as if he was scared to look at the expression of my face and when I looked at his eyes, I saw that they had red circles around them like he was just getting over from crying. He looked so exhausted and beat but knowing that, I started to play the sad and hopeful song just for him.
This time he looked right at me and I felt watched but it wasn’t a scary stare. I felt that his eyes slowly and carefully sunk through my skin which really made me feel relaxed at the piano enough to keep on playing. I fully ended the song and a shiver went down my whole body as I prepared for what my heart was telling me to do.
“This is for you,” I whispered so softly. In the corner of my eye, I saw that he got up from the other stool and sat at the cover of mine, still giving me the space to play something new gracefully.
The music piece was completely different from all of the songs I’ve ever played. Whenever I look at Ryan, musical staffs circle around my mind and body and waits for the chance for me to figure it on my own. After today for some reason I finally reached down into my heart and it feels like a dream that I’m finally composing what my heart told me to play after all this time-all of the sounds, all of the tempos on how I think or feel about Ryan and it all feels so right. It’s the exact song that has been flowing through my mind for so long that it’s almost important, like a prayer or a hymn sung in church. I just hope that Ryan sees the importance of it.
I’m not sure what he’s going to do since he knows that this is for him, only him. Maybe I’m making a mistake but doesn’t everyone?
~Ryan~
He stops playing and it takes me a minute to register this. My mind is too caught up in the way the sound is reverberating off the walls, or the way my throat feels tighter. There’s a million different things that I can say. A million and one things that I could do. But for some reason, my body can’t move.
Questions fly past my mind like speeding cars.
This is for me? He wrote this? When? Why?
He shifts a little uncomfortably on the stool and clears his throat. I notice the way his eyes glint uncertainly. The way his throat moves as he flexes his vocal cords.
I should probably stop staring. But I can’t bring myself to look away. I question with my eyes, and feel my head tilt to the side. A question, What are you trying to say, Brendon?
No answer comes from his eyes. Only more questions.
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, and I notice how close we had gotten since the song ended. We’re really only a few inches apart. I can feel his body heat wafting through the air, smell his shampoo, hear something that sounds faintly like a beating heart.
There’s no denying I like him, this is a well-acknowledged fact. But I can’t be putting myself out there to be broken hearted again without knowing he felt the same. I question myself, I question him, I question the space between us.
Only a few inches more, and I could find out. But that’s a big risk. One that I’m not willing to take yet. Not until I know for sure he won’t push me away.
“Um,” I mumble, and scratch the back of my head. “That was… really gorgeous.”
He blinks and shakes his head a little. “Thank you. It was… inspired…”
“Thanks.” I smile sideways and take a breath to refill my breathless lungs.
It’s really time to leave, I look up at the clock on the wall. I gather my bag and stand up.
“Hey,” he says, before I could get more than two steps away. “You busy tomorrow afternoon? After school?”
I look at the ceiling, and wonder if I had any chores I was supposed to do. “Uh, no I don’t think so. Why?”
“My folks are going out of town for two days. Business thing. Want to hang out or something? I could show you my house. I’ve got a pretty massive CD collection. And you know, it’s only fair. I’ve seen your house.”
I grin. “Sure, sounds great.”
-
What he didn’t tell me was that his house was… well, huge. Big, white house with lots of windows and rooms and well coordinated furniture. I’m not complaining, but well… I was just a tiny bit shocked.
He seems bouncier today. All smiles and grins, jumping around like he’s just won a prize. Brendon’s smile is a contagious disease.
He leads me into the living room with a “Make yourself at home”. It’s cozy. There’s a big stereo system hooked up to the TV. I may be gay, but I’m still a guy. And big, shiny entertainment systems sparkle like Christmas.
“Dude, sweet system,” I say, pointing to the speakers.
“Thanks. My dad set it up a while ago. It was like… his combined fathers’ day, Christmas, and birthday present all in one.”
I smirk. “Ever test out how loud it can go?”
His eyes flash with a memory. “Heh, yeah. Noise complaint. Called the cops. Grounded for a week.”
“Only a week?”
“My dad thought it was pretty sweet too, but you know. Getting the cops called to the house didn’t sit well with mom, so I had to get some sort of punishment.”
We sit on the sofa for a few minutes, talking about upcoming papers and the possibility that he’d need a tutor for all his English work.
“Hey,” he says, “I have an idea. I’ll be right back.” He points a finger at me. “Stay.”
“Yessir.”
A few minutes later, I hear his footsteps coming down the stairs. In his hands are a few CD’s. He opens one of the jewel cases and puts the CD into the stereo. I don’t get a chance to see which CD it is. He turns up the volume knob and pushes play, turning around to grin knowingly at me.
A familiar intro starts through the speakers. A few drum beats, and the beginning melody of a guitar. It’s Smooth by Santana and Rob Thomas. A classic song. Everyone knows it.
But I’m distracted with the way his smirk turns from knowing to alluring. He starts swaying his hips in little movements. He steps forward and dances. With the hips and the fluid movement of his torso in counter-tempo with his feet.
“Ill tell you one thing. If you would leave it would be a crying shame. In every breath and every word I hear your name calling me out,” he sings in a tone I’d never heard him use before.
I blink, and try and remember what I was thinking before he started moving. Or singing. I’m just sitting there useless on the sofa. Staring in shock. He seems pleased with my reaction, and grins wickedly.
“Dance with me, Ry.” He holds his hand out, still moving those darn hips.
“Uh, no… thanks.” I laugh dryly.
“Please? C’mon. This is a sexy song. Don’t tell me you’re not just dying to dance.”
“I really. Can’t dance, really. I’m okay.” Maybe a nervous smile will make him understand?
It’s his pout that convinces me to take his hand, albeit reluctantly. He pulls me up with him and puts his hands on my hips, moving just like he did before, only now he’s closer. His hands push and pull at my hips, side to side, he tries to coax me to dance.
And it’s awkward. I’m awkward. The word has nothing on the actual pure discomfort of this situation. But a few measures in, I relax a little. He’s not laughing at my complete lack of skills, he’s just three inches away and moving his hips in a way that should be illegal. No problem. I can handle that…
“Give me your heart, make it real. Or else forget about it.”
The music fades. But he doesn’t move away, and neither do I.
“You really need to work on your dancing.”
I nod.
Then finally, he breaks the invisible hold he has on me, and moves back to the stereo. I breathe.
He puts in another CD and changes the track number. When he turns back to me, the seriousness in his eyes is gone. Replaced with a laughing, childish gleam.
“Ready?”
I roll my eyes.
He reaches back and pushes play.
I hear trumpets leading in the song. Brendon takes my right hand, and puts his other hand on my waist.
His eyes ask again, Ready?
I take a breath and let him start moving us. He pulls me along with the rhythm, and I try to match his movements.
“Count,” he says.
“Huh?”
“Count. In your head. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.”
I do. I count in my head, and look at my feet. He notices my attempt at not stepping on his feet, and turns my face upwards.
“Eyes up. Move a little freer. It’s just dancing. Well, some people say dancing is like musical sex, but don’t let that intimidate you.” He smirks, and I glare at him.
“Good job, you’re a fantastic teacher. Way to make things awkward.”
He gasps, pretending to be offended. “This? This is awkward?”
“By the way,” I say, starting to work up a little more nerve with the song. “Why am I the girl? I’m taller than you.”
“Because you don’t know how to dance, or well… you suck at it. Sucked, I should say. You’re getting pretty good now. And I had to lead, so. You get to be the girl.”
I make a hmph noise, and work on letting the music control where I move. I have to admit, his dancing is impressive. His singing is impressive. Hell, everything he does is impressive.
He makes little showy moves at the bridge. I wouldn’t be surprised if he burst into a solo, but alas, he doesn’t, just gets a little too close with his hips. I can handle that.
He’s also singing lightly under his breath. I don’t let on that I notice.
The song ends, and we slow to an almost stop. Dancing in silence, and only then do I notice that hey, I’m dancing with Brendon. In his living room. On a Tuesday. And it’s… weird. But a good weird. The kind of weird that makes you welcome the change, and forget why you ever lived the way you did before.
The next song on the CD is slower. It plays in the background, and our rhythm changes from a sort of Latin swing, to a slower, closer dance. By now all boundaries have been pushed. And they’re still pushing. Testing to see how far we can go before it gets too awkward. Testing to see if this is okay. If we can be like this.
His hand pulls me closer, so close that his chest touches mine, and I can smell his hair. It’s nice. It doesn’t feel wrong, though dancing like this with a friend should. For a moment, my mind wonders if this is him telling me he likes me too.
My right hand feels numb. His hand on my hip feels heavy. His breath on my neck feels light. I wonder if this was rehearsed. If he knew the song was going to change to a slower song. Whether it was or not, it doesn’t matter. What matters is the soft humming coming from his throat, so close I can feel it shiver over my skin.
He sings quietly next to my ear. “Afraid and shy, I let my chance go by. A chance that you might love me too.”
And if that’s not his way of telling me, then I don’t know what is. I move back so I can look at him again, still moving softly with the sway of the one, two, three, four. My eyes ask the same questions they did yesterday in the music hall.
I watch his eyes for an answer. I watch his lips for any sign of emotion. I watch them for other reasons too.
Like the way they’re moving closer, and my eyes are flickering closed without my permission. Like the way I’m entranced into leaning further and further in, until there’s no further I can go.
A/N2: Again, sorry for the wait. Things have been... busy on my end. And also sorry for the cliffhanger. >.> And sorry for making Blake such a jerk in this fic. XD We're sure he's very nice in person. Chapter ten is almost finished, actually. No lurking! Leave a comment if you read. :D Thanks so much!
Author: makeapanicscene who writes Brendon, and melody_so_sweet who writes Ryan.
Beta:rydenross_urie
Rating: PG-13 at the most
Pairing: Ryden (possibly more to come)
POV: Brendon and Ryan's (switches)
Summary: High School fic. Meet one boy, who gets confused with a new mysterious guy and another that resembles him. Will he finally pin point the two other guys and have a exciting new year? Will it all lead to love?
Disclaimer: We don't own the boys, or anyone mentioned in this story. (We also do not own any of the songs mentioned)
Author Notes: We wrote this with the inspiration from FBR's new band, Versaemerge and we thought Blake Harnage looks like Brendon. See?
One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight
~Brendon~
Even though this isn’t a date (though I had hoped it would be), Ryan looks smashing. His hair is perfect and soft as can be-not to mention fluffy enough to touch or pet, in my condition. If this were to be a date, I would totally hold his hand, though nerves would overtake me. I looked at his posture while he ate his ice cream and when I sipped at my milkshake. It was as if he were keeping a secret from me. He’s so skinny; I figured he was still hungry. I didn’t even know what he was thinking about when we saw each other at the movies.
I wore one of my casual but nicer shirts. What I love about Ryan is that he doesn’t always speak his mind or show what he’s thinking, it seems. He keeps it interesting and it’s mysterious, but on the other hand, I want to know what’s going on inside his head. That would show he really cares about what I have to say, but if that’s the person Ryan really is I’ll accept it no matter what.
When we chatted about how great it’ll be to jam to different songs we recently mentioned, Ryan looked like he got the best present ever. Songs that we enjoyed listening to made it seem so much like a dream-but more enjoyable than ever. We finished up and then the silence started to creep up to us. I walked quicker to catch up with Ryan and his long legs, and when we were a block away from the park I picked up my pace and started to walk in that direction.
Finally walking through the gate, we both walked over to the bench and sat down. Talking about more ideas awkwardly, I tried as best I could to make the conversation comfortable. That summer where he had to go away for a week, Ryan seemed like he was glad to finally do something that he loved to do, which dealt with English.
This kid is such a bookworm I swear.
When he was finishing up his story, the look on his face got a bit confused and concerned while the chime of my cell phone told me I had a text message. My back tensed but my hand never moved to take a look at who had sent it. I probably wouldn’t check it until I was home, otherwise I’d interrupt Ryan’s story or his words.
I was explaining the summer I had and about my big piano contest when a golden retriever puppy nudged my shin. Those things are one of the cutest breeds I know. I pause what I have to say and look down to see the shiny coat walking in circles trying to find its toy. He goes behind my shoe and the dog tries to move it. I bend down, reach forwards and find a small, red ball. He eyes it and I throw it to the owner, letting the puppy whimper before running to chase it on the green, grassy field a few yards away.
“I’ve always wanted a dog,” Ryan says to me.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “A beagle.”
“I love their floppy, long ears and their noses.”
“Their paws are the best part Brendon!”
“Are you serious? We’re going to argue about what we like best about beagles? Really?”
“Can you just admit that the paws are better?”
“Fine, but if you name your puppy Floppy, don’t come crying to me when you say that the ears are the best part of the breed.”
“Oh, so you think the ears are better, huh?”
“I’m trying to make somewhat of a point here.”
“Yeah, go ahead…Confuse yourself…”
“I already am confused, Ryan. I feel like… what the hell just happened.”
Ryan laughs almost hysterically and I laugh with him. Just doing things and then laughing about them is the best thing ever in a conversation.
And I don’t mean to connect it with dogs whatsoever.
For an hour I’ve talked to Ryan and no wonder he has amazing friends- he’s an amazing person himself. During that time, the wind picked up and I could feel he was already getting cold. I offered my jacket when I saw the tiny goosebumps on his arms while the trees blew in the air.
“No thanks,” he replied softly to me. I look at him with concern and feel really bad because who wants to be cold and uncomfortable? I let out a breath and shift away from Ryan to take off my jacket. I hand it to him and he gives me a really shocking look and I tell him to use it.
“You’ll probably thank me for it later.”
“What?”
“Ryan, you’re cold. You have goosebumps and I can feel you shivering. You’ll feel better. Just take my jacket - I don’t have cooties.”
“Fine… Thanks,” he says, stretching out his arms to put it on. Being skinny, it looks sorta big on him, but it suits the purpose. It mostly goes with what he’s wearing-a hunter green v-neck shirt with dark washed jeans, while I’m wearing a faded blue shirt with black buttons. Don’t ask why I decided to dress up more than I normally do. It’s what I was comfortable with and the first thing in my closet so… yeah, shut up. I didn’t dress up for Ryan whatsoever.
After we freeze up in our sitting positions, Ryan glares at me and I raise my eyebrows, wondering why he’s giving me that look. He puts the wisps of light brown hair behind his ears and does it again when the wind makes his whole head of hair fly all over the place. I look away, embarrassed from watching him when his dry, still voice interrupts the quiet surroundings around us.
“You’re right. Thank you for helping me out. I was cold and I didn’t recognize it at all. It’s just-”
“Ryan, don’t worry about it alright? I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”
“But you never did.”
Are we arguing again? Please, no no no… Even if we are arguing, is it a good thing? I try to drop it by nodding slightly. I watch a little girl running to her mother that’s trying to leave on the other side of the field. I didn’t realize that Ryan had shifted closer to me and had a content smile on his face while I stared into the distance. I guess it’s something that didn’t even come to mind either. When the two of them exited the park area and walked towards their car, my attention came to the now warmed up Ryan, probably wondering why I’m “ignoring” him. I feel his bony shoulder next to mine and blinking, I look up at him. He slowly backs away to his regular position, looking at his hands doing so.
Just looking at him gives me the shivers as well. I strongly glance at him until he looks up. Looking into his honey eyes with the sunlight going down to dusk, I grin and he returns it back to me. The grin turns into a smile and before I know it, it illuminates his entire face so much that he has to look away.
“I’m having a great time even though the movie sold out.”
“Yeah, me too. Sometimes it’s better to make your own fun.”
“Brendon, come on, it seems like you do it all the time with your piano playing.”
“Maybe I do, but can I ask you something? Do you feel like you’re up for your own challenges that scare or set you back?”
For some time, he thinks and blinks in concentration before nodding. “Yeah,” he replies, rubbing his temple, “everyday. Just sometimes I have to be strong enough to just accept it and try as much as I can in order to do it. And it’s mostly for me. Even if it’s for a grade, I try to make sure that it’s for my own benefit before it ‘counts for something.’”
What the hell was he just talking about? Benefits and counting for something?
“But what if you try to have fun while doing it, wouldn’t that get you further? You don’t always have to prove things. I guess it’s using it to your ability for when you need it the most.”
Ryan stares at me and I’m not sure what I just said, but I know it’s making him think. I really hope whatever he’s thinking isn’t anything negative. I look into his eyes and try to look for some explanation but I don’t get anything except a shy grin plastered on his face.
“Hey, I only play piano, okay? I’m not a psychologist or anything by any means.”
“But no, that is something good to think about though. I guess I’ve been trying proving something to myself but not really sure what I was trying to prove.”
“I’m not a professional!” Ryan laughs and really looks happy. “I’m really not!”
“Okay, okay,” he said between laughs as he settles down from it.
“But yeah, it seems to be getting late and I should really be getting home before my mom freaks out.”
“Eek, yeah, we don’t want that,” he replies standing up. I do the same slowly and we follow back to Ryan’s near the movies. “Hey, would you like a ride home?”
“No thanks. I don’t live far.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, it’s no big deal.”
“Alright then. I’ll see you later.”
I walk away and start to walk when Ryan calls my name and I turn around.
“Brendon, you’ll be cold and you’ll feel better. I promise you that I don’t have cooties,” Ryan mocks with a smile, handing me the jacket.
“Thanks,” I say smiling widely back as I put it on. I look at his posture and placement of his hands. They were in front of him with a hand wrapping around the other and as I turned away again, I felt his eyes still looking at my back. I walk a few steps before looking back to see him getting into the car and quickly hearing the engine turning as he drove away. I look back to see him going the opposite direction and I could have sworn he was looking through the rear view mirror.
*
School again. The next day during lunch, I saw Blake in the lunch line only two people away from me. I had forgotten to make my lunch the previous night and now I’m located in the lunch line for something gross. Looking at the choices for today’s lunch, I try not to make a face and finally choose a salad.
“Hey Blake,” I say, politely as I can.
“Oh, um, hi Brendon. Nice to see you.” And like that, he runs off paying for his lunch and I pause to see him walking quickly towards Ryan and sits down where I used to when Spencer had invited me the other day. Thinking that Blake had taken my seat, I pay for my lunch and walk out of the room and head to the main doors. I sit down on the stone railing where trees surround the area, while the stone steps go all the way down the street. I place my bag on the step down and shake my head. It hasn’t even been a week since I’ve met Blake and already he’s been making my life here a total wreck. Taking the plastic cover off of the aluminum plate of my salad, I begin to eat. Looking into the distance at a car driving past the school makes me wonder why I even came in the beginning. Ever since he came back from his grandma, my life here hasn’t been inviting at all.
Finishing off my last bite of lettuce, I try to look for a wastebasket and when that was not to be found, I stick the remains in my bag, breathing in the air.
“How come you’re not eating lunch with us?” Spencer suddenly asked as I shrugged uncaringly. “We don’t want you to eat alone. No one deserves to.” I look up and his blue eyes look gloomy to me, trying to see if I was going to answer him.
“No, I’m fine.” Spencer frowned and backed away slowly.
“Well alright. I guess I’ll talk to you later.” In seconds, he disappeared and about ten minutes before the bell rang, I went back inside and found Blake at his locker.
“Well, hey, it’s the show off.”
I turn around towards Blake’s direction and see something that might not turn out to be pretty. “What?”
“You heard me. Everyone knows you’re just a show Brendon,” Blake said with envy.
“I really don’t understand what you have against me. I’m trying to-”
“-Be nice? What if I didn’t even want to meet you in the first place? Huh?”
“Why don’t you listen to people instead of getting warped into thinking you’re everything? To be honest, you’re really not.”
“I’m everything you’re not Brendon. No matter how much you try, you won’t be great enough.”
“At least I’m--”
“What is going on?” I look back and see Spencer with Ryan. They look back and forth, trying to check out the scene and whatever the situation is, I try to be strong. My hand clenches into a fist and when Spencer asks again if everything is alright, I answer that it is. They nod, turn around and walk off. Blake waits for them to walk down the hall before saying anything more.
“You shouldn’t come here anymore. No one would miss you for sure.” I flinch when Blake closes the locker really close to my shoulder. I darken my eyes when I see him going for me when out of nowhere, he gets pushed by Jon.
He tries to attack me even though Jon is holding him back and I’m too shocked to do anything right now. I get slapped in the face by Blake and there are million of thoughts running through my mind all at once.
“Stop it!” Jon yells out. “Why are you starting shit with Brendon? Have you even took the time to even get to know him, you’ll find out that he’s better hanging out with than you! Don’t you dare treat him like that! He doesn’t--” There are people filing out towards the area, watching us to see what would happen next. Before I knew it, I motion Jon to release Blake and I kick him.
The bell rings- a sign that lunch is over. I stare at Blake who is hunched over, trying to find any relief for himself. I then look at Jon and smile slightly for protecting helping me and right when people walk around us trying to get to class, I see Spencer and Ryan staring at the three of us and I browse over Spencer’s face. He looked so shocked that his mouth was slightly open while Ryan stood there blank like a piece of paper, just begging to be written on. I check out Ryan and sent him a look that is crossed between a blank and a “why didn’t you do anything and why do you have a shitty friend?” look. I look at Blake once more and walk off. Sometimes doing the unexpected of yourself really shocks you to no end.
I run off to the direction that no one was headed and went to class. Since we had a substitute, I excused myself and entered the bathroom. When I noticed that no one was in there, I went into one of the stalls and broke down crying. The last ten minutes up until now were the worst for such a long time. I don’t even remember the last time I cried so much from having to deal with someone. I punch the bathroom stall with a bang and close my eyes.
I think about playing piano and hitting my fingers on the proper chords that would express what I’m feeling this exact moment. The noise sounds like an angry trash can being slammed into the pavement and the aggravated grumbles from a person, or the anger that you feel from listening to a blank CD when all you wanted to hear was music. Maybe the last thing was for the annoying factor, but I guess playing piano and breaking it would sound like something that would get someone upset. Am I wrong?
I take a breath, but it’s muffled by more sobs when I hear my name being called by a soothing voice.
“Brendon?” I take a link of toilet paper and wipe the liquidly snot from my nose before unlocking the door and seeing Spencer in front of me. I walk slowly towards him and he pulls me into a huge hug. I relax in his grip, and with him rubbing my back he immediately comforts me. “I’m so sorry that he’s been doing that to you. What Jon said to him was really true. You’re a good person. All three of us can see that clearly.”
Jon and Spencer are gods right now. They deserve to be together because they make people like me totally feel like a whole new person. “You’ll always have us Brendon, I hope you know that. Blake is an asshole and Jon finally gave me the proof that he’s not the person that all of us thought he was. I think Ryan was going to fall down from all of the shock. Just please, don’t listen to him, alright?” I nod and finally take a huge but trembling deep breath. I step out from him and wipe my eyes. I walk to the faucet and rinse my face, followed by drying it with paper towels.
“Thank y-you,” I say to him, looking at him through the mirror.
“Don’t mention it. Things will get better, I promise.” Nodding again, I see him smile right when he starts to walk backwards out of the bathroom, facing me the entire time. How the hell did he know that I was going to be in here? All of the classroom doors were closed and no one was in the hallway when I came in here, so how did he know what I was doing?
*
Once school was over for the day, I took my things and walked outside, ignoring anyone else that glanced at me or surrounded me in that matter. I sit in the same spot that I did during lunch and watch everyone going down the steps to their cars or as they walked off campus. When I knew I was alone, I darted back to the piano room and took a seat in my usual spot. For one split second, the keys feel foreign to me beneath my fingers and when feeling confident and free, they traveled all over the place creating multiple feelings mixing into one whole composition. Creating an ending to it, I see a shadow on the wood of the piano and a pathway of air that smelt familiar. Ringing out the last note, Ryan sat on the edge of the other stool which was close to mine. He looked over but didn’t glance at me at that exact same moment. It was as if he was scared to look at the expression of my face and when I looked at his eyes, I saw that they had red circles around them like he was just getting over from crying. He looked so exhausted and beat but knowing that, I started to play the sad and hopeful song just for him.
This time he looked right at me and I felt watched but it wasn’t a scary stare. I felt that his eyes slowly and carefully sunk through my skin which really made me feel relaxed at the piano enough to keep on playing. I fully ended the song and a shiver went down my whole body as I prepared for what my heart was telling me to do.
“This is for you,” I whispered so softly. In the corner of my eye, I saw that he got up from the other stool and sat at the cover of mine, still giving me the space to play something new gracefully.
The music piece was completely different from all of the songs I’ve ever played. Whenever I look at Ryan, musical staffs circle around my mind and body and waits for the chance for me to figure it on my own. After today for some reason I finally reached down into my heart and it feels like a dream that I’m finally composing what my heart told me to play after all this time-all of the sounds, all of the tempos on how I think or feel about Ryan and it all feels so right. It’s the exact song that has been flowing through my mind for so long that it’s almost important, like a prayer or a hymn sung in church. I just hope that Ryan sees the importance of it.
I’m not sure what he’s going to do since he knows that this is for him, only him. Maybe I’m making a mistake but doesn’t everyone?
~Ryan~
He stops playing and it takes me a minute to register this. My mind is too caught up in the way the sound is reverberating off the walls, or the way my throat feels tighter. There’s a million different things that I can say. A million and one things that I could do. But for some reason, my body can’t move.
Questions fly past my mind like speeding cars.
This is for me? He wrote this? When? Why?
He shifts a little uncomfortably on the stool and clears his throat. I notice the way his eyes glint uncertainly. The way his throat moves as he flexes his vocal cords.
I should probably stop staring. But I can’t bring myself to look away. I question with my eyes, and feel my head tilt to the side. A question, What are you trying to say, Brendon?
No answer comes from his eyes. Only more questions.
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, and I notice how close we had gotten since the song ended. We’re really only a few inches apart. I can feel his body heat wafting through the air, smell his shampoo, hear something that sounds faintly like a beating heart.
There’s no denying I like him, this is a well-acknowledged fact. But I can’t be putting myself out there to be broken hearted again without knowing he felt the same. I question myself, I question him, I question the space between us.
Only a few inches more, and I could find out. But that’s a big risk. One that I’m not willing to take yet. Not until I know for sure he won’t push me away.
“Um,” I mumble, and scratch the back of my head. “That was… really gorgeous.”
He blinks and shakes his head a little. “Thank you. It was… inspired…”
“Thanks.” I smile sideways and take a breath to refill my breathless lungs.
It’s really time to leave, I look up at the clock on the wall. I gather my bag and stand up.
“Hey,” he says, before I could get more than two steps away. “You busy tomorrow afternoon? After school?”
I look at the ceiling, and wonder if I had any chores I was supposed to do. “Uh, no I don’t think so. Why?”
“My folks are going out of town for two days. Business thing. Want to hang out or something? I could show you my house. I’ve got a pretty massive CD collection. And you know, it’s only fair. I’ve seen your house.”
I grin. “Sure, sounds great.”
-
What he didn’t tell me was that his house was… well, huge. Big, white house with lots of windows and rooms and well coordinated furniture. I’m not complaining, but well… I was just a tiny bit shocked.
He seems bouncier today. All smiles and grins, jumping around like he’s just won a prize. Brendon’s smile is a contagious disease.
He leads me into the living room with a “Make yourself at home”. It’s cozy. There’s a big stereo system hooked up to the TV. I may be gay, but I’m still a guy. And big, shiny entertainment systems sparkle like Christmas.
“Dude, sweet system,” I say, pointing to the speakers.
“Thanks. My dad set it up a while ago. It was like… his combined fathers’ day, Christmas, and birthday present all in one.”
I smirk. “Ever test out how loud it can go?”
His eyes flash with a memory. “Heh, yeah. Noise complaint. Called the cops. Grounded for a week.”
“Only a week?”
“My dad thought it was pretty sweet too, but you know. Getting the cops called to the house didn’t sit well with mom, so I had to get some sort of punishment.”
We sit on the sofa for a few minutes, talking about upcoming papers and the possibility that he’d need a tutor for all his English work.
“Hey,” he says, “I have an idea. I’ll be right back.” He points a finger at me. “Stay.”
“Yessir.”
A few minutes later, I hear his footsteps coming down the stairs. In his hands are a few CD’s. He opens one of the jewel cases and puts the CD into the stereo. I don’t get a chance to see which CD it is. He turns up the volume knob and pushes play, turning around to grin knowingly at me.
A familiar intro starts through the speakers. A few drum beats, and the beginning melody of a guitar. It’s Smooth by Santana and Rob Thomas. A classic song. Everyone knows it.
But I’m distracted with the way his smirk turns from knowing to alluring. He starts swaying his hips in little movements. He steps forward and dances. With the hips and the fluid movement of his torso in counter-tempo with his feet.
“Ill tell you one thing. If you would leave it would be a crying shame. In every breath and every word I hear your name calling me out,” he sings in a tone I’d never heard him use before.
I blink, and try and remember what I was thinking before he started moving. Or singing. I’m just sitting there useless on the sofa. Staring in shock. He seems pleased with my reaction, and grins wickedly.
“Dance with me, Ry.” He holds his hand out, still moving those darn hips.
“Uh, no… thanks.” I laugh dryly.
“Please? C’mon. This is a sexy song. Don’t tell me you’re not just dying to dance.”
“I really. Can’t dance, really. I’m okay.” Maybe a nervous smile will make him understand?
It’s his pout that convinces me to take his hand, albeit reluctantly. He pulls me up with him and puts his hands on my hips, moving just like he did before, only now he’s closer. His hands push and pull at my hips, side to side, he tries to coax me to dance.
And it’s awkward. I’m awkward. The word has nothing on the actual pure discomfort of this situation. But a few measures in, I relax a little. He’s not laughing at my complete lack of skills, he’s just three inches away and moving his hips in a way that should be illegal. No problem. I can handle that…
“Give me your heart, make it real. Or else forget about it.”
The music fades. But he doesn’t move away, and neither do I.
“You really need to work on your dancing.”
I nod.
Then finally, he breaks the invisible hold he has on me, and moves back to the stereo. I breathe.
He puts in another CD and changes the track number. When he turns back to me, the seriousness in his eyes is gone. Replaced with a laughing, childish gleam.
“Ready?”
I roll my eyes.
He reaches back and pushes play.
I hear trumpets leading in the song. Brendon takes my right hand, and puts his other hand on my waist.
His eyes ask again, Ready?
I take a breath and let him start moving us. He pulls me along with the rhythm, and I try to match his movements.
“Count,” he says.
“Huh?”
“Count. In your head. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.”
I do. I count in my head, and look at my feet. He notices my attempt at not stepping on his feet, and turns my face upwards.
“Eyes up. Move a little freer. It’s just dancing. Well, some people say dancing is like musical sex, but don’t let that intimidate you.” He smirks, and I glare at him.
“Good job, you’re a fantastic teacher. Way to make things awkward.”
He gasps, pretending to be offended. “This? This is awkward?”
“By the way,” I say, starting to work up a little more nerve with the song. “Why am I the girl? I’m taller than you.”
“Because you don’t know how to dance, or well… you suck at it. Sucked, I should say. You’re getting pretty good now. And I had to lead, so. You get to be the girl.”
I make a hmph noise, and work on letting the music control where I move. I have to admit, his dancing is impressive. His singing is impressive. Hell, everything he does is impressive.
He makes little showy moves at the bridge. I wouldn’t be surprised if he burst into a solo, but alas, he doesn’t, just gets a little too close with his hips. I can handle that.
He’s also singing lightly under his breath. I don’t let on that I notice.
The song ends, and we slow to an almost stop. Dancing in silence, and only then do I notice that hey, I’m dancing with Brendon. In his living room. On a Tuesday. And it’s… weird. But a good weird. The kind of weird that makes you welcome the change, and forget why you ever lived the way you did before.
The next song on the CD is slower. It plays in the background, and our rhythm changes from a sort of Latin swing, to a slower, closer dance. By now all boundaries have been pushed. And they’re still pushing. Testing to see how far we can go before it gets too awkward. Testing to see if this is okay. If we can be like this.
His hand pulls me closer, so close that his chest touches mine, and I can smell his hair. It’s nice. It doesn’t feel wrong, though dancing like this with a friend should. For a moment, my mind wonders if this is him telling me he likes me too.
My right hand feels numb. His hand on my hip feels heavy. His breath on my neck feels light. I wonder if this was rehearsed. If he knew the song was going to change to a slower song. Whether it was or not, it doesn’t matter. What matters is the soft humming coming from his throat, so close I can feel it shiver over my skin.
He sings quietly next to my ear. “Afraid and shy, I let my chance go by. A chance that you might love me too.”
And if that’s not his way of telling me, then I don’t know what is. I move back so I can look at him again, still moving softly with the sway of the one, two, three, four. My eyes ask the same questions they did yesterday in the music hall.
I watch his eyes for an answer. I watch his lips for any sign of emotion. I watch them for other reasons too.
Like the way they’re moving closer, and my eyes are flickering closed without my permission. Like the way I’m entranced into leaning further and further in, until there’s no further I can go.
A/N2: Again, sorry for the wait. Things have been... busy on my end. And also sorry for the cliffhanger. >.> And sorry for making Blake such a jerk in this fic. XD We're sure he's very nice in person. Chapter ten is almost finished, actually. No lurking! Leave a comment if you read. :D Thanks so much!