I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive...13/?
When I’d finished, Ryan just stared at me.
I’d told him everything; everything Spencer had told me, all that he’d done, all that had happened because of what he’d done.
I hated seeing him wince when I told him that Spencer had only pretended to like him. Whether it was a blow to his pride, or whether it just plain hurt, I didn’t know. I kind of hated Spencer for that.
And yet I felt a little foolish. I wasn’t sure whether Spencer had intended for me to tell Ryan all this, but I was desperate to make things better. I would’ve done anything.
“He - he really said all that?” Ryan asked incredulously, wiping away the smudgy blackness from under his eyes.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, my eyes lingering on how big Ryan’s hand looked in comparison with the rest of his body. Still so thin.
“He - did all that...for me?”
Just believe me goddamn it.
“Looks like it,” I said, putting my fingers to my temples and shutting my eyes, trying not to let the emotions show that were threatening to break out of the steadily weakening barriers I’d developed over the past weeks.
Five weeks had passed and I’d barely heard that voice, the one that was as familiar to me now as my own.
I jumped as I felt a pair of strong hands wrap around my upper arms, holding me tightly. My head snapped up to see Ryan trying to look directly into my eyes, his expression unreadable.
Everything might’ve been so much easier if Spencer hadn’t made it so confusing for both of us. Sure, what he’d tried to do had worked, to an extent.
He had pushed Ryan towards me, and the truth or dare had...well, helped may not have been the best word, but it almost summed it up.
I think something clicked in me right then.
I realised why I’d acted like I did, on that somewhat fateful day.
I’d been scared.
I couldn’t understand why it hadn’t come to me before, why I couldn’t see...it made sense, at least. That situation had been so weird for me, I’d never - never experienced...
And yet I’d wanted it.
I didn’t get why I hadn’t just done something about it before then, but...I guess I wasn’t that spontaneous.
And know, here we were, staring each other dead in the face.
I’ll admit it was unnerving, and it was unusual for me to be so rattled.
So now what?
~Ryan~
“And - and what about you?” I mumbled, examining his expression.
There was no disdain, no disgust, only concern, and - something else which I couldn’t quite place.
Brendon sighed. “What is that supposed to mean, Ry?”
“Well, um...” I paused, flushing. “You wouldn’t talk to me for so long and...I - I want to know what you’re thinking.”
“I wouldn’t talk to you?” he said indignantly, his eyes widening. “Ryan, you didn’t even look at me, let alone talk to me! It wasn’t like I could!”
“D-do you hate me?” I asked nervously, biting down on my lip. I had to know.
He flinched, hurt distorting his features. It made fresh tears spill down my cheeks, blurring my vision.
Brendon inhaled deeply, leaning forward and hugging me close, his strong arms firm across my back. He’d never know how badly I’d longed for that these past weeks. It hurt to know that it was my fault that I hadn’t.
“Ryan Ross,” he hissed into my ear, making me shiver. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
He did?
I shook my head, feeling my breathing creep towards hyperventilation.
It was only then that I realised his voice was shaking, his hand moving to the back of my neck as he brought me closer.
“I - I d-don’t want that to happen again, Ry,” he whispered, pulling back suddenly to look at me, and I saw, horrified, the tears that streaked his face, glistening on his eyelashes. I’d never ever seen him cry, never.
I’d never imagined watching someone cry could be so painful.
Is that what he sees every time I cry?
Brendon brushed the backs of his fingers over my cheekbone, his other hand still at my neck.
“You - you’re so th-thin,” he choked out, tracing his fingers down my back and around to my ribs, against my chest. It made me tremble so badly that it hurt.
I knew that it was true. I hadn’t been eating, in the three-square-meals-a-day sense of the word. More, I had been eating when I felt like it, if I felt like it.
When I felt I could stomach it.
“You haven’t been eating,” he stammered, his fingers tracing down my cheek.
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
I was about to answer, when I jumped as I heard the door handle begin to turn, and then Spencer’s voice yell, “Ryan, let me in!” The door was still locked.
Thank god for that.
“Spencer, go away!” Brendon yelled back, his voice cracking slightly.
Silence.
Then, “Okay,” and the sounds of footsteps trudging back down the stairs.
In fact, it sounded like two pairs, though I couldn’t be sure.
“They’re home then.” I tried to laugh, but it didn’t really come out properly, and he was still crying.
Brendon gazed at me, resting his forehead against mine.
“Say it,” he choked, “I’m messed up.”
“No, no, Bren, don’t be like that, please!” I swallowed painfully, pushing his hair back from his forehead.
I couldn’t believe that this was the closest I’d been to him in five weeks.
I just wanted to feel his lips on mine again, yet couldn’t risk everything again. We’d only just started talking again; I wouldn’t throw all that away.
I was so confused. With everything. With life.
“But I am,” he whispered, moving away and sitting up against the headboard, his eyes down.
I shifted over to him, and he pulled me against him, holding me to his chest. For what seemed like ages we sat there, not speaking, not looking at each other, just...together.
“I’m sorry,” mumbled Brendon eventually, his hands drifting to the small of my back, making small circles with his fingertips.
The gesture was so...familiar, intimate; I almost started to cry again.
“It’s okay,” I mumbled back, and rested my head on his shoulder.
Is it really though?
~Brendon~
Holding him in my arms, it was all I could do not to just leap on him and never let go.
His shoulder jutted out, digging into my chest. My hands traced lightly along his arms, feeling the sharp angles of his bones under my fingertips.
If I’d really wanted to make everything better, I shouldn’t really have asked what I did right then, so soon. But I felt especially reckless, and I couldn’t hold myself back much longer anyway, so I ignored my better judgement, such as it was.
“Ryan,” I said, my voice curiously emotional. “Can I kiss you?”
I couldn’t believe it; here we were, only just getting over what had happened, and I go and ask a stupid question like that.
I think someone must have put something in my drink at some point.
His head shot up, eyes meeting mine instantly. Fear sparked in his gaze, and I had to stop myself from flinching. At least I could understand why he was looking so petrified.
What the hell would you ask such a question for, and at such a time, Brendon Urie? the more restrained, sensible part of my brain screamed at me. I have to say, it was quite a small part.
Screw you, answered the, rather larger, more reckless part of my brain.
Ah well. Too late now.
Ryan was staring up at me as though I were mental. Which...I probably was.
“R-remember what happened last time?” he stuttered, swallowing nervously. “All that shit happened and it was my fault.”
I shook my head and smiled. “But it won’t be your fault this time. It’ll be mine.”
This has got to be the most retarded thing I’ve ever done...
A small smile crept over his face as he realised what I’d said.
I liked it...it made me feel less unsure of myself, seeing him smile at me for the first time in over a month.
I was terrified of stuffing this up; after all, I’d never done this before, I was scared of looking like an idiot.
Mind you, that bedpost...
I slipped one hand behind his neck, pulling him closer to me slowly.
I blushed as his golden eyes met mine when I hesitated, glancing down embarrassedly.
“What?” he asked softly, pulling his long fingers through my hair gently.
I strengthened my resolve and answered, “Nothing.”
Now or never, Bren...
I pressed my lips against his, feeling him lean into me as I curled my other hand around his waist, pulling him against me.
Little pleasurable shocks coursed down the length of my spine as he pushed his tongue between my lips into my mouth.
I didn’t know anything could be this good...
Ryan pushed me up against the headboard of the bed, knotting his fingers into my hair and arching his back as my fingers brushed his side before circling his back again.
This was bliss. Sheer bliss.
For the third time in my life, I was kissing Ryan Ross.
Okaaaayy. Sucked. Lol. Anyway. FEEDBACK!!! AIEEE!!!
I’d told him everything; everything Spencer had told me, all that he’d done, all that had happened because of what he’d done.
I hated seeing him wince when I told him that Spencer had only pretended to like him. Whether it was a blow to his pride, or whether it just plain hurt, I didn’t know. I kind of hated Spencer for that.
And yet I felt a little foolish. I wasn’t sure whether Spencer had intended for me to tell Ryan all this, but I was desperate to make things better. I would’ve done anything.
“He - he really said all that?” Ryan asked incredulously, wiping away the smudgy blackness from under his eyes.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, my eyes lingering on how big Ryan’s hand looked in comparison with the rest of his body. Still so thin.
“He - did all that...for me?”
Just believe me goddamn it.
“Looks like it,” I said, putting my fingers to my temples and shutting my eyes, trying not to let the emotions show that were threatening to break out of the steadily weakening barriers I’d developed over the past weeks.
Five weeks had passed and I’d barely heard that voice, the one that was as familiar to me now as my own.
I jumped as I felt a pair of strong hands wrap around my upper arms, holding me tightly. My head snapped up to see Ryan trying to look directly into my eyes, his expression unreadable.
Everything might’ve been so much easier if Spencer hadn’t made it so confusing for both of us. Sure, what he’d tried to do had worked, to an extent.
He had pushed Ryan towards me, and the truth or dare had...well, helped may not have been the best word, but it almost summed it up.
I think something clicked in me right then.
I realised why I’d acted like I did, on that somewhat fateful day.
I’d been scared.
I couldn’t understand why it hadn’t come to me before, why I couldn’t see...it made sense, at least. That situation had been so weird for me, I’d never - never experienced...
And yet I’d wanted it.
I didn’t get why I hadn’t just done something about it before then, but...I guess I wasn’t that spontaneous.
And know, here we were, staring each other dead in the face.
I’ll admit it was unnerving, and it was unusual for me to be so rattled.
So now what?
~Ryan~
“And - and what about you?” I mumbled, examining his expression.
There was no disdain, no disgust, only concern, and - something else which I couldn’t quite place.
Brendon sighed. “What is that supposed to mean, Ry?”
“Well, um...” I paused, flushing. “You wouldn’t talk to me for so long and...I - I want to know what you’re thinking.”
“I wouldn’t talk to you?” he said indignantly, his eyes widening. “Ryan, you didn’t even look at me, let alone talk to me! It wasn’t like I could!”
“D-do you hate me?” I asked nervously, biting down on my lip. I had to know.
He flinched, hurt distorting his features. It made fresh tears spill down my cheeks, blurring my vision.
Brendon inhaled deeply, leaning forward and hugging me close, his strong arms firm across my back. He’d never know how badly I’d longed for that these past weeks. It hurt to know that it was my fault that I hadn’t.
“Ryan Ross,” he hissed into my ear, making me shiver. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
He did?
I shook my head, feeling my breathing creep towards hyperventilation.
It was only then that I realised his voice was shaking, his hand moving to the back of my neck as he brought me closer.
“I - I d-don’t want that to happen again, Ry,” he whispered, pulling back suddenly to look at me, and I saw, horrified, the tears that streaked his face, glistening on his eyelashes. I’d never ever seen him cry, never.
I’d never imagined watching someone cry could be so painful.
Is that what he sees every time I cry?
Brendon brushed the backs of his fingers over my cheekbone, his other hand still at my neck.
“You - you’re so th-thin,” he choked out, tracing his fingers down my back and around to my ribs, against my chest. It made me tremble so badly that it hurt.
I knew that it was true. I hadn’t been eating, in the three-square-meals-a-day sense of the word. More, I had been eating when I felt like it, if I felt like it.
When I felt I could stomach it.
“You haven’t been eating,” he stammered, his fingers tracing down my cheek.
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
I was about to answer, when I jumped as I heard the door handle begin to turn, and then Spencer’s voice yell, “Ryan, let me in!” The door was still locked.
Thank god for that.
“Spencer, go away!” Brendon yelled back, his voice cracking slightly.
Silence.
Then, “Okay,” and the sounds of footsteps trudging back down the stairs.
In fact, it sounded like two pairs, though I couldn’t be sure.
“They’re home then.” I tried to laugh, but it didn’t really come out properly, and he was still crying.
Brendon gazed at me, resting his forehead against mine.
“Say it,” he choked, “I’m messed up.”
“No, no, Bren, don’t be like that, please!” I swallowed painfully, pushing his hair back from his forehead.
I couldn’t believe that this was the closest I’d been to him in five weeks.
I just wanted to feel his lips on mine again, yet couldn’t risk everything again. We’d only just started talking again; I wouldn’t throw all that away.
I was so confused. With everything. With life.
“But I am,” he whispered, moving away and sitting up against the headboard, his eyes down.
I shifted over to him, and he pulled me against him, holding me to his chest. For what seemed like ages we sat there, not speaking, not looking at each other, just...together.
“I’m sorry,” mumbled Brendon eventually, his hands drifting to the small of my back, making small circles with his fingertips.
The gesture was so...familiar, intimate; I almost started to cry again.
“It’s okay,” I mumbled back, and rested my head on his shoulder.
Is it really though?
~Brendon~
Holding him in my arms, it was all I could do not to just leap on him and never let go.
His shoulder jutted out, digging into my chest. My hands traced lightly along his arms, feeling the sharp angles of his bones under my fingertips.
If I’d really wanted to make everything better, I shouldn’t really have asked what I did right then, so soon. But I felt especially reckless, and I couldn’t hold myself back much longer anyway, so I ignored my better judgement, such as it was.
“Ryan,” I said, my voice curiously emotional. “Can I kiss you?”
I couldn’t believe it; here we were, only just getting over what had happened, and I go and ask a stupid question like that.
I think someone must have put something in my drink at some point.
His head shot up, eyes meeting mine instantly. Fear sparked in his gaze, and I had to stop myself from flinching. At least I could understand why he was looking so petrified.
What the hell would you ask such a question for, and at such a time, Brendon Urie? the more restrained, sensible part of my brain screamed at me. I have to say, it was quite a small part.
Screw you, answered the, rather larger, more reckless part of my brain.
Ah well. Too late now.
Ryan was staring up at me as though I were mental. Which...I probably was.
“R-remember what happened last time?” he stuttered, swallowing nervously. “All that shit happened and it was my fault.”
I shook my head and smiled. “But it won’t be your fault this time. It’ll be mine.”
This has got to be the most retarded thing I’ve ever done...
A small smile crept over his face as he realised what I’d said.
I liked it...it made me feel less unsure of myself, seeing him smile at me for the first time in over a month.
I was terrified of stuffing this up; after all, I’d never done this before, I was scared of looking like an idiot.
Mind you, that bedpost...
I slipped one hand behind his neck, pulling him closer to me slowly.
I blushed as his golden eyes met mine when I hesitated, glancing down embarrassedly.
“What?” he asked softly, pulling his long fingers through my hair gently.
I strengthened my resolve and answered, “Nothing.”
Now or never, Bren...
I pressed my lips against his, feeling him lean into me as I curled my other hand around his waist, pulling him against me.
Little pleasurable shocks coursed down the length of my spine as he pushed his tongue between my lips into my mouth.
I didn’t know anything could be this good...
Ryan pushed me up against the headboard of the bed, knotting his fingers into my hair and arching his back as my fingers brushed his side before circling his back again.
This was bliss. Sheer bliss.
For the third time in my life, I was kissing Ryan Ross.
Okaaaayy. Sucked. Lol. Anyway. FEEDBACK!!! AIEEE!!!