I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive...17/?
So, I’m immature at the best of times. It’s just me.
A very loud, very extroverted Aries, who happened to be a little hyperactive. Well, maybe not just a little. But still, Jon was mean in saying that.
I’d never called him a douche had I?
It was kind of payback, seeing him slowly suffocating underneath Spencer, even if secretly he really, really actually wanted to be in that position, but wouldn’t ever, ever admit it to anyone...
I should have realised the moment he made up that pass rule.
IT’S BECAUSE HE HAS A BIG MAN-CRUSH ON SPENCER, AND WOULD DIE IF WE FOUND OUT! So there.
----
And so the time passed.
We weren’t playing truth or dare the whole time; Ryan and I drifted in and out of the bedroom, for various reasons, usually for whatever it was that Jon and Spencer wanted, because we wouldn’t let them get up at all.
Sometimes for...other reasons.
Spencer was still on top of Jon, and Ryan was leaning against the end of the bed, looking so unfairly enticing, folding his long legs lazily as if what he’d just been asked to do wasn’t the most inappropriate thing you could imagine.
“Pass,” was all he said, his eyes flicking momentarily to me before he focused his gaze once again on Spencer.
Red was going to be a colour that would frequently appear in my cheeks, I could tell.
“Go on then,” said Spencer, “if you won’t strip for us inside a sleeping bag, you have to kiss someone. Your choice.”
However comfortable Ryan seemed, it wasn’t enough to hide the tenseness I could see in his face, his posture. Now or never...
“How the hell was I supposed to get my jeans off inside a damn sleeping bag anyway,” he asked, “if they’re so tight I can’t even get my hands in the stupid pockets?”
An image of Ryan pulling his jeans off immediately swam into my increasingly dirty mind, making me blush harder. Jon gave me a look that said ‘I know what you’re thinking...’
“If I kiss Jon that’ll only make Spencer envious,” mimicked Ryan, moving over to me. Spencer clenched his jaw, whereas Jon nodded. I caught his eye and he smiled, slightly sadly. Ryan knelt in front of me, distracting me from working out Jon’s expression.
Oh, crap.
I regarded him, my eyes drifting over his jaggedly cut hair, the smudged kohl lining half-closed lids, smouldering caramel eyes that watched me carefully.
This would be very difficult, for me at least.
What the hell, we’re together, you know that, why are you tormenting me like this? If you want to see us make out why not invade our privacy sometime, hmm?
I decided to let him do it, and if he wanted to turn it into a full make-out session in front of the others, fine by me.
Ryan slipped his hand behind my neck to ensure that I didn’t resist (like I would) and pressed a swift kiss to my lips before backing away and raising an eyebrow at Spencer.
I had to excuse myself extremely quickly.
I couldn’t cope.
----
When Ryan found me, I was sitting hunched up under the kitchen table.
An unusual choice of hiding-place, I admit, but it worked for well over half an hour.
The light that flooded the dark kitchen, half-blinding me, was the first indication that I’d been found. A pair of legs that I recognised as Ryan’s - lanky, and in exceptionally tight pants - approached the table and he leaned down to look at me before walking away again.
No, don’t go! I screamed silently, but the light only vanished and Ryan was crawling under the table, his hand groping for mine.
“What are you doing under the table, Bren?” he said quietly, stroking his long fingers across my cheek.
“I couldn’t take it,” I muttered, ashamed. A dull flush spread over my cheeks, and he put his skinny arms around me as he asked, “Are you okay now?”
I nodded and he pressed his face into my shoulder, only to be stopped by my hand under his chin. I was going to go mental if I didn’t do this now.
He stared nervously into my eyes as I whispered, “Do - do you want others to know - about us?”
“I don’t care,” he whispered back, running his hand through my hair. “I just want to be with you right now, I don’t care about anyone else.”
I had to choke back a sob at those words, because they’d never been used in reference to me.
Ryan moved forward suddenly and kissed my lips, pressing himself against me and entangling his hands in my hair. My hands moved to his back and I felt the muscle relax under my fingers as I pulled him to me.
It was sweet and perfect and I didn’t want it to ever, ever end.
We were under a table though.
I drew away and pressed my lips softly to his chin once before saying, “Ry, what are we gonna do if they find us? I mean, we’re under a table...”
Somehow, I didn’t give a shit.
He laughed quietly and gestured towards the rest of the kitchen.
“After you,” he said softly, releasing my waist and I instantly felt extremely guilty as I crawled out from under the table, but I wasn’t quite sure why.
He was blushing when he stood up, his cheeks visibly glowing under the weak moonlight that shone through the window.
I knew better now than to ask what was wrong when someone blushed. All you ever got was a snappy retort or a look that said ‘if you don’t shut up now I will throttle you in your sleep’.
It wasn’t just the blush that I noticed; I saw how the light hit his cheekbones and the soft pink lips that had been on mine only moments before, defining his face strikingly.
Ryan blushed harder when he realised that I was taking in every aspect of his appearance, and I slipped my hand into his reassuringly.
I still felt awful about him not eating, a feeling only increased by the realisation that his hand in mine looked so...fragile, as though applying even the slightest pressure might break it.
He followed my gaze and smiled sadly at me, saying, “I am eating now, Bren. It’s just...I’m so scared that you’ll vanish in the morning. I don’t want to get my hopes up.”
I screamed inwardly, hating myself for what I’d made him feel. What I was still making him feel.
This is all my fault...
~Ryan~
When Brendon crawled out from under the table...well, let’s just say I’ve never seen a better ass.
I crawled out after him and stood up awkwardly, feeling the heat radiating from my cheeks, which he’d noticed I’m sure, but didn’t say anything, and I was glad of that.
Brendon was looking at me as though he’d never seen me before, examining my face with such a fascination that I flushed, and he took my hand gently.
“I am eating now, Bren,” I said, seeing him staring at my wasted hand. “It just...I’m so scared that you’ll vanish in the morning.”
I loathed seeing the way his face crumpled as I said this.
It cut deeper than anything that I’d ever done to myself, and I felt ashamed of letting him know my fears.
“I don’t want to get my hopes up.”
His face tightened instantly, tears welling up in his eyes.
Oh, no...
“How - how can you think like that, Ry?” he stammered, walking away from me, looking up at the ceiling and inhaling deeply, trying to control himself obviously. I felt so selfish and stupid. He turned back to me.
“My fault,” he muttered to himself, then looked up and threw himself at me, his arms tight around my waist.
All I ever do is damn well make things worse...is it always going to be like this? Is the relationship that we have going to be full of misunderstandings and tears? Is that what it’ll be?
“I don’t feel like that when I’m with you, Bren,” I explained, stroking his hair. “I - everything just seems to not matter, when I’m with you, but when you disappeared earlier...well.”
He looked up at me, asking, “You honestly think I’d leave?” He looked stunned.
“Ry...?” Something was worrying him, I could tell. “Do - are we gonna - tell, y’know, Spencer and Jon, because, um, they probably actually know already...” He hesitated. “I just want to be able to tell people, even if I’m not comfortable with people, y’know, knowing, because I just...”
I could hear his voice trembling, and I pulled my fingers through his hair gently, pushing my cheek against his.
“I just want to tell everyone how I love you so much,” he said gravely, “and just to hug you and kiss you and tell everyone that - that...”
I felt an overwhelming sadness pass over me before being replaced by the most stupidly happy feeling, because that was how I felt too, and I hadn’t realised.
I just really, really didn’t want anyone outside of my little circle of friends to know, and I was so, so confused about everything that was going on.
“I - this is gonna sound so retarded - I’ve never met anyone like you, Bren,” I said, getting more confused even as I said the words. Cliché...
“And, I think, you changed my way of looking at life. It sounds so stupid,” I muttered, feeling like an idiot. But he had. And I realised that I needed him, to keep me sane, and all that time being away from him only made me yearn for him all the more.
That’s so unhealthy...
He pushed my hair back from my forehead, murmuring with a small smile, “I did? I guess I’m just made of awesomeness then.” It wasn’t said with any form of arrogance.
“But I don’t want to hurt you again, Ry.” With shaking hands he pressed his palm to my cheek, brushing a lock of hair out of my eyes. “I couldn’t ever leave because it would hurt me as much as it would hurt you, and - if you don’t want them to know, that’s fine...”
“C’mon,” I mumbled, chastised, steering him towards the door and out into the bright light of the hallway, not wanting to continue with the conversation any longer than was necessary. It was making me feel worse.
Brendon’s hand was slung limply around my waist as we made our way down the hall, towards the stairs. I yelped and turned to stare down at him, shocked, as his hand slid off my hip and he smacked me lightly on the ass, squeezing his fingers for a moment before pushing me further up the stairs.
Are mood swings something I’m going to have to deal with? ‘Cause...maybe I won’t mind that quite as much...
A smile played around the corner of his mouth as he looked up after me, running to catch up.
“Your face was priceless then, you know that?” he said mischievously, running the tip of his tongue over his teeth. I really couldn’t help noticing.
“What the hell was that?” I asked incredulously, mimicking his tongue-over-teeth action. He stopped dead behind me.
For a moment he looked merely confused; then he blushed so deeply that I reckoned if I got close enough I might feel the heat coming off his skin.
Actually? I don’t want to know.
“Never mind,” I said quickly, and he ran up beside me.
It came as a complete surprise when he shoved me against the wall, hard, his body flush with mine. The air huffed out of my chest, and he put his mouth close to my ear, his voice low and rough.
“You never wished me happy birthday,” he murmured lustily, and it was only then that I remembered that his birthday had in fact passed a few weeks ago.
I was barely able to comprehend that, as his lips moved to the hollow under my ear, and I felt every muscle in my body tense, my blood pounding in my veins.
It was then that we first heard the moan.
Brendon froze, turning his face to mine disbelievingly.
Did I just hear what I think I heard?
To my ear, it sounded...male. And our age. And...
Brendon grabbed my wrist and pulled me all the way up the stairs, silently dragging me down to Spencer’s room. Whatever that single noise was that we’d heard before had since ceased.
“Do they think we’re not here?” hissed Brendon. “What’s the matter with them? Are they insane?”
So much for keeping stuff hidden...
I wrapped my hand carefully around the doorknob, and Brendon nodded at me, pressing his hands softly to the door. My breathing had not entirely settled down, and I tried to control myself, before glancing nervously at him.
“Do it,” he whispered, and I twisted as hard as I could.
The door smashed open; I think we might’ve permanently damaged the wall, but that didn’t matter compared to what we saw next.
We leapt into the room to see Jon and Spencer...well. They jumped hurriedly away from each other, but they weren’t on the floor.
They were on the bed.
“WOOHOO!” yelled Brendon, ecstatic.
“I HAD A HEADACHE!” yelled Spencer back, his face tomato red.
“Don’t give us that shit Spence, we saw what you were doing!” Brendon shouted gleefully. My eyes fixed on Spencer’s flushed bitch-face and I was strongly reminded of the time when they’d been spying on us, only, we hadn’t been spying.
“This is totally inappropriate behaviour,” said Brendon pompously, pulling an exaggeratedly disapproving face. “Particularly as you have guests.”
“Dear, dear,” I said, trying to keep the grin off my face. “Whatever would your mother say? After all, she did tell us not to do anything naughty...”
Spencer’s jaw dropped in horror. “I - you wouldn’t - PISS OFF!”
Jon was looking like he was trying oh, so hard not to smile.
“Oh, shut up, you had it coming,” Brendon laughed and shut the door, checking for any damage to the wall, before sliding down against it folding his arms.
They kinda blew whatever secrecy they’d ever had...and it’s only getting harder for me to keep my hands off him...
“Shut up Bren,” muttered Spencer, moving over to his own bed.
Jesus, you’d think he’d restrict himself to his own damn bed, wouldn’t you?
“Why didn’t you just tell us, guys?” asked Brendon softly. “Did you think we’d mind?”
That was something I’d forgotten about him; for all his hyperactivity, I admired his ability to tone his voice and behaviour down, into showing that he cared.
okay, this was a really, truly, terrible chapter and I'm extremely sorry. but then again, feedback, comments, advice people. I'm in a really horrible mood at the moment and I'm sore in so many ways, so I need your happiness, even if this sucks, so yeah.