I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive...25/25
Would it be difficult to understand if I said I didn’t want to go back to school?
Apparently not for Ryan.
In fact, he was so terrified for my wellbeing, he attempted to make me stay in my room even when the days of convalescing were over. That was the first time he’d been in my room, and it was embarrassing. What could I say?
‘Uh, no. Sorry, Ry, but my diary is kinda lying open on my bed from when I was last using it, and my name is in there with your last name tacked onto mine.’
That probably wouldn’t go down too well. Besides, he’d laugh at me until his ribs cracked too. Then he’d be sorry.
I made him wait outside.
“Bren, what’ve you got in here, porn? Honestly, I don’t care if it’s messy.”
I came out, my cheeks burning. “I do not own porn Ryan Ross! You should be ashamed for even knowing a dirty word like that.”
Okay, so my mom had obviously come in while I was sick and cleaned. When I came home, however...
I stood back to let him in, and he walked in almost respectfully, looking around at my possessions, everything that made me, me. I crept up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and standing on tip toe to rest my chin on his shoulder.
“I know it’s not much,” I rambled, “it’s usually always messy, and all the paint’s coming off the -” I was cut off as he twisted in my arms and kissed me.
“Brendon,” he murmured, his lips curving. “Brendon, I love what it looks like. I love that it smells like you, and feels like you and that it is you. Oh, yeah. It smells kinda like strawberry too.”
I grinned. Then, my phone just had to buzz. Normally, I didn’t carry it in my front pocket, but since it was uncomfortable to reach backwards, I’d begun a bad habit. I yelped and wrenched myself away from him, yanking it out of my pocket, clearly not fast enough. Whimpering, I clambered onto the bed and drew my knees against my chest, breathing heavily.
“Brendon?” Ryan moved behind me and touched my shoulder, trailing his fingers down my spine, and I moaned. “Oh, God, Brendon?”
Because of my stupid phone. And Ryan. Mainly Ryan. But my stupid phone, it had to go off while I was wrapped around my boyfriend. I vowed to leave my phone on silent forevermore.
“Yay for holidays?” I said shakily in attempt at a distraction.
Ryan sat down next to me on the bed and looked into my face, concern etched into his.
“Are you alright?” His fingers traced my bicep, and I hid my face in my kneecaps.
Stop touching me, don’t touch me, stop, please DON’T.
“Ryan!” I whined and he let go of me. “I - I...”
He finally took in every aspect of my appearance, including the bright red spots on my cheeks and realised.
“Oh!” he said hastily and blushed. “Fuck.”
“That would be nice,” I said in a falsely suggestive tone, waggling my eyebrows.
He smirked. “Wouldn’t it just?”
His face changed swiftly, a look in his eye that I had honestly never seen before. He leaned over me suddenly, pushing me backwards roughly and cupping my growing erection with his palm. The air was forced out of my lungs and a dull pain shot through my side as I landed heavily on my back.
“Ryan...?” My voiced rasped hoarsely and I tensed as he pressed down. “Oh, God!”
My skin was becoming uncomfortably hot in my really-to-be-reconsidered-considering-the-tightness jeans, my chest heaving under my thin cotton shirt. It was as though someone had raised the temperature in the room by ten degrees. Oh wait, that would be Ryan. I clenched my eyes shut, trying not to focus on the heat pooling in my stomach, as Ryan trailed kisses down my neck, holding his body carefully above mine so he didn’t hurt me, and tugging at the buttons on my shirt. It was scaring me, this, what he was doing. I had thought about it, of course I had, but it was scaring me now.
“Ryan?” My breath stuttered in my throat. “Ryan, p-please s-stop...”
He moaned low in my ear and pushed my shirt open, running his long fingers along my sides. I all but groaned in pain and pleasure. I wanted it to go on and on, and to stop at once. I forced myself away from his lips, reaching for the sensitive skin under my ear, and scrambled off the bed, my breathing coming in short gasps as I fumbled with my buttons.
“Brendon...?” Ryan’s voice trailed off as I ran, out the door and all the way back to Spencer’s.
~Ryan~
“Funny the way things work, isn’t it?”
Spencer looked at me strangely. Brendon had dragged Jon downstairs to watch Aladdin for the zillionth time. Jon was good-natured enough to give into his demands.
“What is?” Spencer asked, sitting back on the bed. The way he was sitting up on his elbows reminded me strongly of the incident the other day. I swallowed uncomfortably.
“Well, you know how I...rejected every person in school?”
“Well, aren’t we getting a fat head?” Spencer smirked at me and lolled his head back, stretching. I made a small noise in the back of my throat and he looked back up. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing,” I muttered hastily. “Well, I kinda...um...got rejected by Brendon the other day...”
Spencer put on the bitch-face. “Ryan, you didn’t.”
I could only nod in embarrassment.
“Ryan,” said Spencer threateningly.
“I know!” I burst out. “Anyway, his phone made him hard in the first place!”
Spencer stared at me for a moment, before laughing hysterically.
Inside, I wasn’t so happy. Brendon had been avoiding me. He was spending most of his time with Jon, understandably, because Jon wasn’t going to make a move on him anytime soon. And if he did...
I felt completely horrible. It would be fair to say, even at the risk of sounding completely up myself, that what I had felt for Brendon in his room, what I had wanted to do to him, was something like what all the others at school had apparently felt for me.
I wouldn’t deny it. I had wanted to fuck him senseless.
And now Spencer knew. Brilliant.
Jon stuck his head around the edge of the door, and asked, “Have you found Spin’s ticklish spot too?”
Spencer snapped his head up and glared at Jon.
“No,” I muttered quietly, “but I bet you have.”
“What did you say?” Jon narrowed his eyes at me. Unlike normally, he actually looked scary.
Spencer rose swiftly and gracefully from his bed. “Jon, come on,” and walked quickly out of the room. Jon followed, muttering, “You betcha,” and pinching his ass.
I shook my head quickly, not wanting to have seen that, cute though it may have been.
I jumped as Brendon popped his head around the door frame, yelling “Jon!” and then flushed, seeing me sitting there.
“Uh, Jon’s gone downstairs with Spencer,” I said quickly, not meeting his eyes.
“Uh, oh, okay,” he mumbled, flushing, “I’ll just, ah...”
He moved quickly towards the door that Jon and Spencer had just moved through and I called out. I realised he’d have had to have passed them on the stairs, or they were making out in another bedroom. There was nowhere for him to go.
“Brendon?”
He froze in the doorway and said clearly, “Yes, Ryan?”
I flinched at the coldness of his tone.
“C’mere.”
He hesitated, before turning around and sitting on the bed, subtly keeping his distance.
I swallowed. “Brendon, I’m sorry.”
He inhaled sharply, his lips twisting bitterly. I hated that look on his face. It didn’t belong there, and I wanted to smooth it away, run my fingers over the angry lines creasing his forehead, to kiss away the sorrow I’d caused.
“Why - why did you do that?” He wouldn’t look at me still. My heart clenched.
“I - I don’t know,” I answered, not untruthfully. “I think...I don’t know...the heat of the moment?” It was a bad pun, I’ll admit, but I didn’t find it that funny, and neither, I’m sure, did he.
“Ryan, I - it’s not that I didn’t -” Brendon sighed, and I watched his face carefully, searching for any sign of weakness in his features. I moved backwards and leaned against the headboard, crossing my ankles as I stretched my legs out. I saw Brendon’s eyes dart quickly down to my legs, and I felt a glimmer of hope when he blushed, beautiful colour flooding his cheeks. He lifted his eyes reluctantly to meet mine, sorrow prominent in the gorgeous chocolate orbs.
“I’m so sorry for what I tried to do Bren,” I said sincerely. “Can you forgive me?”
His entire face softened. “Yes,” he said quietly, smiling at me for the first time in almost three days. I gestured for him to come closer, patting the mattress. He scooted in next to me, and a genuine smile spread across my lips, feeling his warm body against mine. Snuggled into my chest, he let me play with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He made a small, contented purring sound, and whispered, “Tell me a story.”
I frowned, trying to think of a good one. An idea came into my head, and I grinned, and started to speak.
“Once upon a time there was a princess who lived in a castle. She could not leave the castle, because her parents, the King and Queen, were drunkards, and beat her all the time. She had only one friend, a young boy who worked in the stables. His name was Spencer. Spencer let the princess stay in the stables with him when her parents had been particularly cruel, and held her, and comforted her. Young men had travelled across the land to see her, for she was known for her beauty, though she herself could not see it.”
I looked down at Brendon, whose head had slipped down onto my abdomen. His eyes were shut. A strange feeling, of comfort, and something else I couldn’t understand flooded through my system.
“Whenever a new suitor came to see her, she turned him away, and this went on for many years. Her parents eventually became furious, and banished her from the house. In the middle of the night, she crept back into the stables, and stayed there with Spencer for many nights.
Then one day, through the open door of the stable, she saw a handsome young man approaching the front door, dressed in fine attire and carrying a red rose. He saw her looking through the stable door and called out to her, thinking she was a servant, for her clothes had grown dirty with all the time she had spent in the stables.
She was instantly captivated by his beauty, and his manner with which he spoke to her. Well-mannered, energetic, and kind, he stayed and spoke to the princess, not knowing who she was. She told him her secret, and he smiled, leaning forward to kiss her.
She jumped up, frightened, and ran to Spencer, who could not understand why she was so frightened.
‘Oh Spencer,’ she said, ‘the most beautiful man I have ever seen is at the door, and he tried to kiss me! I’m scared Spencer, what do I do?’
Spencer smiled, saying, ‘He likes you, Miss, clearly. Go back to him.’
The princess did so, and when she found him, he was sitting on a tree stump, head in his hands. He looked up when she approached, glancing at her sadly.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said sorrowfully. ‘I was too forward. I apologise for startling you.’
The princess smiled, taking his hand in hers. ‘No matter,’ she said, her voice warm. ‘What is your name, fine sir?’
‘It is Brendon, if it pleases you, your highness,’ said the young man politely, and asked her the same. She answered sweetly, then said, ’like you very much Brendon.’
And she leaned forward and kissed him, delighting in the feel of his lips against hers. He said earnestly, ‘Will you come away with me, love? We will be happy, and you will be free.’ The princess agreed happily, and together they left the castle and the princess’ parents forever.”
Brendon’s breathing had slowed, his face peaceful as he slept. I continued, my voice softer, because I didn’t want to wake him, and what I was about to tell him, I didn’t want him to remember. I had to do this now.
“They lived happily together, until one day, her beloved Brendon was found near to death in a forest. Her parents had been furious when the news reached them that the princess had eloped, and had sent soldiers to harm him in any way possible. “
My throat tightened, tears filling my eyes as I quietly told him the rest of the story.
“The sight of him, broken and bleeding on the ground almost broke the princess’ heart. She cursed the people who had done this to you, and I sat with you, crying, until the ambulance came and took you away. I sat next to you for hours, while you were asleep, and I was always scared that maybe you wouldn’t wake up. I couldn’t believe that someone could hurt a person as beautiful as you.”
I was opening my heart now, the words spilling forth, and I was unable to stop them, staring blankly at the wall.
“And only now, just as you had got better, I drove you away again, because of my stupidity, and I’m sorry, Bren, I’m so, so sorry, and if you don’t like me, I can understand that, because I love you, Brendon, even if you haven’t really forgiven me...”
I paused, not having realised that I had begun speaking in first person.
“And they lived happily ever after,” I finished, looking down at his sleeping face.
His tears were still wet on his cheeks, face twisted in a painful expression. I flushed. I’d thought he was asleep. He sniffed, and I pulled him close against me, and we held each other as we cried, tears mingling on our cheeks. He pulled back after a while, his lips finding mine, softly pressing against any skin he could reach.
“Did - did you mean all that?” he said, his voice cracking as he stared into my eyes.
I simply nodded. I didn’t trust my voice enough to speak. An enormous grin spread over his face, and he lay down, pulling me down next to him and dragging a blanket over us both as we began to drift off to sleep.
The last thing I heard before I began to dream was: “Why did you make yourself a princess?”
A/N: It's over. Hate me if you will, but that's the way it is.
Apparently not for Ryan.
In fact, he was so terrified for my wellbeing, he attempted to make me stay in my room even when the days of convalescing were over. That was the first time he’d been in my room, and it was embarrassing. What could I say?
‘Uh, no. Sorry, Ry, but my diary is kinda lying open on my bed from when I was last using it, and my name is in there with your last name tacked onto mine.’
That probably wouldn’t go down too well. Besides, he’d laugh at me until his ribs cracked too. Then he’d be sorry.
I made him wait outside.
“Bren, what’ve you got in here, porn? Honestly, I don’t care if it’s messy.”
I came out, my cheeks burning. “I do not own porn Ryan Ross! You should be ashamed for even knowing a dirty word like that.”
Okay, so my mom had obviously come in while I was sick and cleaned. When I came home, however...
I stood back to let him in, and he walked in almost respectfully, looking around at my possessions, everything that made me, me. I crept up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and standing on tip toe to rest my chin on his shoulder.
“I know it’s not much,” I rambled, “it’s usually always messy, and all the paint’s coming off the -” I was cut off as he twisted in my arms and kissed me.
“Brendon,” he murmured, his lips curving. “Brendon, I love what it looks like. I love that it smells like you, and feels like you and that it is you. Oh, yeah. It smells kinda like strawberry too.”
I grinned. Then, my phone just had to buzz. Normally, I didn’t carry it in my front pocket, but since it was uncomfortable to reach backwards, I’d begun a bad habit. I yelped and wrenched myself away from him, yanking it out of my pocket, clearly not fast enough. Whimpering, I clambered onto the bed and drew my knees against my chest, breathing heavily.
“Brendon?” Ryan moved behind me and touched my shoulder, trailing his fingers down my spine, and I moaned. “Oh, God, Brendon?”
Because of my stupid phone. And Ryan. Mainly Ryan. But my stupid phone, it had to go off while I was wrapped around my boyfriend. I vowed to leave my phone on silent forevermore.
“Yay for holidays?” I said shakily in attempt at a distraction.
Ryan sat down next to me on the bed and looked into my face, concern etched into his.
“Are you alright?” His fingers traced my bicep, and I hid my face in my kneecaps.
Stop touching me, don’t touch me, stop, please DON’T.
“Ryan!” I whined and he let go of me. “I - I...”
He finally took in every aspect of my appearance, including the bright red spots on my cheeks and realised.
“Oh!” he said hastily and blushed. “Fuck.”
“That would be nice,” I said in a falsely suggestive tone, waggling my eyebrows.
He smirked. “Wouldn’t it just?”
His face changed swiftly, a look in his eye that I had honestly never seen before. He leaned over me suddenly, pushing me backwards roughly and cupping my growing erection with his palm. The air was forced out of my lungs and a dull pain shot through my side as I landed heavily on my back.
“Ryan...?” My voiced rasped hoarsely and I tensed as he pressed down. “Oh, God!”
My skin was becoming uncomfortably hot in my really-to-be-reconsidered-considering-the-tightness jeans, my chest heaving under my thin cotton shirt. It was as though someone had raised the temperature in the room by ten degrees. Oh wait, that would be Ryan. I clenched my eyes shut, trying not to focus on the heat pooling in my stomach, as Ryan trailed kisses down my neck, holding his body carefully above mine so he didn’t hurt me, and tugging at the buttons on my shirt. It was scaring me, this, what he was doing. I had thought about it, of course I had, but it was scaring me now.
“Ryan?” My breath stuttered in my throat. “Ryan, p-please s-stop...”
He moaned low in my ear and pushed my shirt open, running his long fingers along my sides. I all but groaned in pain and pleasure. I wanted it to go on and on, and to stop at once. I forced myself away from his lips, reaching for the sensitive skin under my ear, and scrambled off the bed, my breathing coming in short gasps as I fumbled with my buttons.
“Brendon...?” Ryan’s voice trailed off as I ran, out the door and all the way back to Spencer’s.
~Ryan~
“Funny the way things work, isn’t it?”
Spencer looked at me strangely. Brendon had dragged Jon downstairs to watch Aladdin for the zillionth time. Jon was good-natured enough to give into his demands.
“What is?” Spencer asked, sitting back on the bed. The way he was sitting up on his elbows reminded me strongly of the incident the other day. I swallowed uncomfortably.
“Well, you know how I...rejected every person in school?”
“Well, aren’t we getting a fat head?” Spencer smirked at me and lolled his head back, stretching. I made a small noise in the back of my throat and he looked back up. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing,” I muttered hastily. “Well, I kinda...um...got rejected by Brendon the other day...”
Spencer put on the bitch-face. “Ryan, you didn’t.”
I could only nod in embarrassment.
“Ryan,” said Spencer threateningly.
“I know!” I burst out. “Anyway, his phone made him hard in the first place!”
Spencer stared at me for a moment, before laughing hysterically.
Inside, I wasn’t so happy. Brendon had been avoiding me. He was spending most of his time with Jon, understandably, because Jon wasn’t going to make a move on him anytime soon. And if he did...
I felt completely horrible. It would be fair to say, even at the risk of sounding completely up myself, that what I had felt for Brendon in his room, what I had wanted to do to him, was something like what all the others at school had apparently felt for me.
I wouldn’t deny it. I had wanted to fuck him senseless.
And now Spencer knew. Brilliant.
Jon stuck his head around the edge of the door, and asked, “Have you found Spin’s ticklish spot too?”
Spencer snapped his head up and glared at Jon.
“No,” I muttered quietly, “but I bet you have.”
“What did you say?” Jon narrowed his eyes at me. Unlike normally, he actually looked scary.
Spencer rose swiftly and gracefully from his bed. “Jon, come on,” and walked quickly out of the room. Jon followed, muttering, “You betcha,” and pinching his ass.
I shook my head quickly, not wanting to have seen that, cute though it may have been.
I jumped as Brendon popped his head around the door frame, yelling “Jon!” and then flushed, seeing me sitting there.
“Uh, Jon’s gone downstairs with Spencer,” I said quickly, not meeting his eyes.
“Uh, oh, okay,” he mumbled, flushing, “I’ll just, ah...”
He moved quickly towards the door that Jon and Spencer had just moved through and I called out. I realised he’d have had to have passed them on the stairs, or they were making out in another bedroom. There was nowhere for him to go.
“Brendon?”
He froze in the doorway and said clearly, “Yes, Ryan?”
I flinched at the coldness of his tone.
“C’mere.”
He hesitated, before turning around and sitting on the bed, subtly keeping his distance.
I swallowed. “Brendon, I’m sorry.”
He inhaled sharply, his lips twisting bitterly. I hated that look on his face. It didn’t belong there, and I wanted to smooth it away, run my fingers over the angry lines creasing his forehead, to kiss away the sorrow I’d caused.
“Why - why did you do that?” He wouldn’t look at me still. My heart clenched.
“I - I don’t know,” I answered, not untruthfully. “I think...I don’t know...the heat of the moment?” It was a bad pun, I’ll admit, but I didn’t find it that funny, and neither, I’m sure, did he.
“Ryan, I - it’s not that I didn’t -” Brendon sighed, and I watched his face carefully, searching for any sign of weakness in his features. I moved backwards and leaned against the headboard, crossing my ankles as I stretched my legs out. I saw Brendon’s eyes dart quickly down to my legs, and I felt a glimmer of hope when he blushed, beautiful colour flooding his cheeks. He lifted his eyes reluctantly to meet mine, sorrow prominent in the gorgeous chocolate orbs.
“I’m so sorry for what I tried to do Bren,” I said sincerely. “Can you forgive me?”
His entire face softened. “Yes,” he said quietly, smiling at me for the first time in almost three days. I gestured for him to come closer, patting the mattress. He scooted in next to me, and a genuine smile spread across my lips, feeling his warm body against mine. Snuggled into my chest, he let me play with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He made a small, contented purring sound, and whispered, “Tell me a story.”
I frowned, trying to think of a good one. An idea came into my head, and I grinned, and started to speak.
“Once upon a time there was a princess who lived in a castle. She could not leave the castle, because her parents, the King and Queen, were drunkards, and beat her all the time. She had only one friend, a young boy who worked in the stables. His name was Spencer. Spencer let the princess stay in the stables with him when her parents had been particularly cruel, and held her, and comforted her. Young men had travelled across the land to see her, for she was known for her beauty, though she herself could not see it.”
I looked down at Brendon, whose head had slipped down onto my abdomen. His eyes were shut. A strange feeling, of comfort, and something else I couldn’t understand flooded through my system.
“Whenever a new suitor came to see her, she turned him away, and this went on for many years. Her parents eventually became furious, and banished her from the house. In the middle of the night, she crept back into the stables, and stayed there with Spencer for many nights.
Then one day, through the open door of the stable, she saw a handsome young man approaching the front door, dressed in fine attire and carrying a red rose. He saw her looking through the stable door and called out to her, thinking she was a servant, for her clothes had grown dirty with all the time she had spent in the stables.
She was instantly captivated by his beauty, and his manner with which he spoke to her. Well-mannered, energetic, and kind, he stayed and spoke to the princess, not knowing who she was. She told him her secret, and he smiled, leaning forward to kiss her.
She jumped up, frightened, and ran to Spencer, who could not understand why she was so frightened.
‘Oh Spencer,’ she said, ‘the most beautiful man I have ever seen is at the door, and he tried to kiss me! I’m scared Spencer, what do I do?’
Spencer smiled, saying, ‘He likes you, Miss, clearly. Go back to him.’
The princess did so, and when she found him, he was sitting on a tree stump, head in his hands. He looked up when she approached, glancing at her sadly.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said sorrowfully. ‘I was too forward. I apologise for startling you.’
The princess smiled, taking his hand in hers. ‘No matter,’ she said, her voice warm. ‘What is your name, fine sir?’
‘It is Brendon, if it pleases you, your highness,’ said the young man politely, and asked her the same. She answered sweetly, then said, ’like you very much Brendon.’
And she leaned forward and kissed him, delighting in the feel of his lips against hers. He said earnestly, ‘Will you come away with me, love? We will be happy, and you will be free.’ The princess agreed happily, and together they left the castle and the princess’ parents forever.”
Brendon’s breathing had slowed, his face peaceful as he slept. I continued, my voice softer, because I didn’t want to wake him, and what I was about to tell him, I didn’t want him to remember. I had to do this now.
“They lived happily together, until one day, her beloved Brendon was found near to death in a forest. Her parents had been furious when the news reached them that the princess had eloped, and had sent soldiers to harm him in any way possible. “
My throat tightened, tears filling my eyes as I quietly told him the rest of the story.
“The sight of him, broken and bleeding on the ground almost broke the princess’ heart. She cursed the people who had done this to you, and I sat with you, crying, until the ambulance came and took you away. I sat next to you for hours, while you were asleep, and I was always scared that maybe you wouldn’t wake up. I couldn’t believe that someone could hurt a person as beautiful as you.”
I was opening my heart now, the words spilling forth, and I was unable to stop them, staring blankly at the wall.
“And only now, just as you had got better, I drove you away again, because of my stupidity, and I’m sorry, Bren, I’m so, so sorry, and if you don’t like me, I can understand that, because I love you, Brendon, even if you haven’t really forgiven me...”
I paused, not having realised that I had begun speaking in first person.
“And they lived happily ever after,” I finished, looking down at his sleeping face.
His tears were still wet on his cheeks, face twisted in a painful expression. I flushed. I’d thought he was asleep. He sniffed, and I pulled him close against me, and we held each other as we cried, tears mingling on our cheeks. He pulled back after a while, his lips finding mine, softly pressing against any skin he could reach.
“Did - did you mean all that?” he said, his voice cracking as he stared into my eyes.
I simply nodded. I didn’t trust my voice enough to speak. An enormous grin spread over his face, and he lay down, pulling me down next to him and dragging a blanket over us both as we began to drift off to sleep.
The last thing I heard before I began to dream was: “Why did you make yourself a princess?”
A/N: It's over. Hate me if you will, but that's the way it is.