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I froze. Did he really just say what I thought he did?
I climbed off of him, "What?"
I could hear my heart pounding in my chest.
"I thought you wanted to wait, Brendon," I said, standing over him. My voice was very serious now.
I was scared. At first I thought I was scared for him, but after he answered I realized I was scared for me. I had never been with another guy before. Not like this.
I spuddered. I didn't know what to say.
Shit! I fucked up, I scared him, I'm a hypocrite.
"I-I-I don't know, I-I didn't mean to say that, I'm so sorry."
I felt my eyebrows knit together in confusion as I stared at a flustered Brendon laying on our bed. Now he was the one looking scared.
First he wants me the fuck him and now he's apologizing? I could tell he meant it when he whispered it in my ear. He wouldn't joke around with serious shit like that. Maybe he really was ready.
I took a deep breath to calm myself. I don't know why I got so scared. I know I wanted this too, but I just didn't want to screw everything up by having sex with him. Plus, it kind of freaked me out. I hadn't even kissed anouther guy before him. But none of that should matter if I really loved him... right?
"I didn't mean it like that Bren," I said apologetically, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. "It's just... I mean... You said... I thought... " I said, struggling to find the right words.
I sighed as I tried to gather my thoughts.
I turned to face him and looked deep into his eyes, "Are you sure?" I said simply, but sincerly. "I don't want to force you into anything you don't want to do. Are you sure you're ready?"
I sat up and stared at the ground, kind of afraid to see his face right now, the face I loved. That loving concern, I'd probably freak. I'm already pretty damn close to an anxiety attack.
"I don't know if I'm ready, I don't know why I said it, it was obviously the wrong thing to say if I'm not even really sure if I'm ready. I just... I want you... I know that much. It's just... difficult. Because... I don't think anyone's really prepared for their first time, and I'm pretty sure I want it to be with you, but... there's also you."
I finally looked at him, eyes shining, closer and closer to a freak out with every word, every thought, every doubt.
"Are you sure you're ready?"
It might have been stupid to ask him, after all, he'd had sex before. He wasn't the virgin, he wasn't about to lose the one thing he could never get back. But the way he reacted... wasn't the way most guys would react in that situation. I know that if I wasn't the virgin, and my boyfriend told me to fuck him... I probably would. I don't know. I'm the virgin here.
Was I ready?
"I think..." I began, but I stopped.
I didn't have to think about it anymore. I loved him. I was sure.
"Yes. I'm ready," I said nodding my head. "I'm sorry I acted weird before." I looked down at my hands. "I've just never felt this way about someone before," I said quietly.
It was true though.
I looked back up at him, "I know this is your first time and you're scared, but if your with someone you love and trust completely, it shouldn't matter." I gave him a quick peck on the cheek, "I can wait as long as you need, Brendon."
I stood up to leave. I figured he needed some time to think.
I grabbed his hand before he could go anywhere and he gave me a confused look.
"We've still got to pack."
I smiled up at him and opened up him palm, placing a few feathery kisses along his thumb to his wrist. I went down to the patch of scars that used to be the razor cuts I had found on his forearm the day we first got together.
"I'm sorry I'm so difficult. I love you, if that's any conciliation."
I smiled in return, "I love you too, Brendon," I leaned down and gently brushed my lips against his, "I love you and I always will."
I smiled, I couldn't help it, but then I shook my head trying to focus. I closed my eyes and went into mock-meditation position.
"We need to pack, not what your packing, need to pack, not what you're packing..."
I looked up at him and giggled, and he chuckled and went back to the closet.
The next morning we had to get an early start on tour, so unfortunatly we all missed breakfast. We stopped at one of those AM PM gas stations (or as I liked to call them, Ammpmm stations) to get a quick bite to eat after we had slept most of the morning away.
I felt my phone buzz in my pocket as I took a bite of my hamberger. The caller ID flashed 'Pete.'
"Hullo?" I answered through my full mouth.
"Oh God. Ryan, thank God you're there."
He seemed desperate and nervous.
"Hey man, whats wrong?" I said swallowing my bite of the hamberger.
Brendon gave me a quizzical look.
"Grab a tabloid or turn on fucking TMZ or something," he said urgently.
This had to be important.
"Jon stop playing that stupid game and turn on TMZ," I could tell he were about to protest but when he saw my face he immediatly obeyed.
"Oh my God!" we all screamed in unison.
I could feel the blood rush out of my face and I imideatly felt nauseas. This was very very bad.
It took me a minute to figure out what we were looking at, then I realized...
"Oh fuck," I said as I buried my head in my hands, "fucking shitty fuck shit fuck."
How fucking mortifying. Worse than Pete taking pictures of his cock, worse than anything.
And me and Spencer had been getting along so well. It hurt him to see us together everyday just holding hands, but this... fuckity fuck shit.
I dropped the phone even though Pete was still on the other line, and started gasping for breath as I watched photos, horrible horrible photos of Brendon and I slide on and off the screen.
There were pictures of Brendon and I in the hospital parking lot. First they were simple and innocent, just us holding hands, but then they got worse. There were pictures of us in a very intimate make out session and I thought nothing could get worse.
But then it did.
They had followed us. They had followed us when we left. There were pictures of us in the car. There were pictures of Brendon on top of me. There were pictures of me with my pants down to my ankles. There were pictures of Brendon deep throating my dick. There were pictures of me coming into his hand.
I had never felt more violated or embarassed.
I suddenly felt much more nauseas and very dizzy. My head started to spin as my vision got fuzzier and fuzzier and then everything went black.
"Jesus Christ, Jesus H. Christ..." I said, trying to even out my breathing.
The most mortifying fucking pictures you could fucking imagine and my boyfriend just fucking fainted. Me, the good Mormon boy who took first aid classes, propped up his feet and checked for any wounds from his fall. There weren't any, so I preceded in just holding his face and giving it those little slaps.
"Ryan, Ryan, wake up."
I felt a hand on my shoulder and it startled me for a second. It was Jon, handing me a glass of water to, I presume, dump on Ryan's head. The hell with it. So, I bit my lip and tipped the glass over Ryan's face.
I spluttered through the water being dumped on my head and gasped for breath as I woke up.
"Fuck," I said as I sat up on the floor of the bus.
"What the hell happened, Brendon? I had this horrible dream..." I trailed off.
I desperatly hoped that it was just a dream.
"Ryan," I heard Spencer say from behind Brendon. His tone was not promising. "Ry, that wasn't a dream."
I hadn't thought so. There was no way my luck was that good.
I silently stood up and climbed in to my bunk. I didn't say anything. I didn't show any emotion. I just curled up in my bunk and closed the curtain. I didn't think I could deal with this.
I watched him walk off into the bunks, blank expression. His expression made me worry the most. I bit my lip and looked at Jon and Spencer, somewhat embarrassed, obviously. They had just seen pictures of me giving my boyfriend a blow job. I gave them a sad smile before walking into the bunk areas where Ryan was.
I went up to Ryan's bunk and knocked on the little wooden bit separating the bunks.
"May I join you?"
I sniffled in response. My tears started to fall thicker and faster, "I don't care," I said wiping my snotty nose on my sleeve. "Do whatever you want."
Everything was going to shit. Everyone knew about Brendon and I before we even started the tour. Everyone saw all of those pictures. And I'm sure Spencer seeing them didn't help our weak relationship any. Everything had been going wrong for so long. It seemed like as soon as we solved one delima a worse one would appear.
I pulled back the curtain and climbed in then closed it again behind me. He had his back to me, so I wrapped myself around him, me the big spoon, him the little spoon. I pressed a kiss on the back of his neck, wanting to make him feel better. I hated it when Ryan felt horrible, especially horrible over something I'd done. I was the one who insisted on giving him a fucking blow job in public, I was the one he was kissing, trying to make feel better because I was crying over nothing. Now he was crying and I felt awful.
"Ry, it's okay. They're okay. I know it sucks being outed by some stranger who took embarrassing pictures of us, but look on the bright side. I can kiss you where ever the fuck I want."
I tried to make him laugh, but I don't know how well I succeded in that, because all I got in return was a couple of sniffles.
I know he was trying to make me feel better, but I only felt worse. I didn't want to be outed by some creep with a camera. I wanted to come out on my terms, when I was ready. And I certantily wasn't ready yet. I knew that much.
I wriggled closer to the wall, wishing to put some distance between us. "I don't want to be out yet, Brendon," I whispered.
"But Ry..." he started as he scooted closer to me, but I stopped him.
He might have been ready for this, but I knew I wasn't. I just wanted to be alone.
"No," I said with a little too much force. "Just... just go," I whispered.
"Sure," I said quietly, crawling out of the bunk.
I was a horrible boyfriend. I couldn't even help him deal, I probably made him feel worse.
I walked out of the bunk area to the back of the bus, but I wasn't alone.
"Hey, Spin," I said sadly, plopping down next to him.
I leaned over and put my head on his shoulder looking for some comfort. I didn't want sexual, I just didn't like being alone when I felt sad or rejected, which was both right now.
He sighed, and wrapped one of his arms around me, averting his eyes from the television to look at me.
"You okay?"
I shook my head.
"No."
I could practically hear his heart breaking as he slid out of my bunk.
"Sure," he whispered.
I don't see how he was so calm about the whole thing. He said it was ok. I know he was trying to make me feel better, but nothing was ok. He couldn't just say, "Look at the bright side!" with this one and make a joke.
I knew he had already been hurting and I probably just made him feel a thousand times worse. I felt horrible about that, but right now I didn't want to talk to him. Anyone but him.
I felt him kiss the top of my head when he wrapped him other arm around me and started hugging me. It wasn't sexual, it was intimate. It felt good.
It made me think about how much I missed Spencer. Spencer has always been a good friend to me, he's always been a good friend to Ryan, and we've just been avoiding him. We've been horrible friends, and here I am, feeling crappy because Ryan doesn't want to come near me, and after a month and a half of being avoided by me, Spencer still opens up to me with open arms.
Not only am I a horrible boyfriend, but I'm a horrible friend.
Spencer loves me like how I loved Ryan. How I would have done anything for him, no matter how much it hurt me, how much it does hurt me.
It takes me a minute to realize I'm crying, but the tell-tale hint would be Spencer rubbing off my tears.
"I'm sorry, Spence, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."
He smiled and kissed my forehead, holding me tighter, nearly as tight as I was clutching onto him at this point.
"There's nothing to apologise for. This is what friends are supposed to do, Brendon. There through thick and thin. I love you Brendon, but I see how you are with Ryan, how Ryan is with you. Ryan... he loves you. It's so obvious that I don't understand why people needed to see those pictures to see how much he loves you, sexually and otherwise."
At this point, I'm blushing.
"Ryan... he just needs to sort this out himself. He's confused, he's not gay. But he loves you, so it's all pretty frustrating for him. Just try to think of it in his perspective, as short as his range of perspective can be most of the time. Like when you first kissed him, how he reacted. Again, even when he may not have noticed, but he's very obvious. He's always seen boy and girl, so his feelings are confusing. Guys being with guys has been so taboo, when he finally comes to terms with it, that he loves a guy, suddenly everyone knows and is freaking out. It's probably extremely stressful."
I bite my lip and cuddle my face deeper into his shoulder.
"When did you become the psychologist in the band?"