The Lights That Flicker Will Surely Fade
The Lights That Flicker Will Surely Fade
Ryan / Brendon
2186 words // PG-15 (for language and implied sex)
for March 17 07.
Brendon's been sharing an apartment with Jon for three months now, trying to get back on his feet after his parents kicked him out of the house. Apparently, it's not a good idea to secretly quit college two semesters in just because you're feeling burned out already.
He's finding out quickly that Chicago is definitely not like that of his hometown; sure, there's plenty of trouble for him to get into here, but it's not as appealing as the sin that's dripping from every surface in Las Vegas.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he had someone to hang out with, but no luck there. Jon's presence has been pretty much nonexistent since Brendon moved in; unfortunately, he's been busy working, and spending all of his available time with his new girlfriend. Brendon thinks she's too clingy, but his roommate seems to like her.
The space the two of them are living in is tiny, but it's not like Brendon actually got to take anything of his when he left home. Mostly, he's just thankful for Jon deciding to rent a two-bedroom, and of course, for buying the double bed occupying his own, otherwise empty, room.
He doesn't have to be at work for another three hours, so he settles into his normal morning routine. Every day since he's moved in, he's sat at the window, drinking his coffee. He discovered on the second day, that there are very attractive people living in Chicago.
He found out on the third, fourth, and fifth days that some of them go to the same coffee shop every morning. So every morning, he waits for the skinny boy with brown hair to appear on the sidewalk. He's precise about the time, always arriving at 7:07. Brendon's also noticed that the boy never smiles, not once has he seen it.
He's knows it's a bit stalker-ish of him, to be watching this person every day. But he also knows that it could be worse; he could be following him around or something, but he's not doing that. At least not yet.
Of course, he's thought about it on several different occasions. He would just like to talk to him, and get to know him. Really, all he wants to do is be the one to make the boy smile. But, since he hasn't got the courage or confidence in himself to actually go down there, he'll just watch for now.
---
Brendon yawns, stretching out his limbs across the bed, thankful that he called in to work today. Although he doesn't have to go anywhere, he will, and he's quite nervous about the little trip he'll be making.
He checks the clock on his cell phone, making sure that he's got enough time. It's only six now, so that means that he'll be able to take a nice long shower, and pretty himself up. Today, he's determined to at least say something to the boy with the coffee.
Brendon slowly drags himself out of bed, stopping to grab a towel from the dryer before shutting himself in the bathroom. He spends a good amount of time letting the hot water calm his nerves, sort of. Mostly, he's just trying to work out exactly what he's going to say, if he actually does go through with his plan.
When there's no more time to waste, he turns off the shower and wraps the towel around himself. Because he feels that first impressions are lasting ones, he needs to look his best, which is why he spent almost half an hour contemplating his ensemble the day before.
After Brendon's finally done dressing and fixing his hair, he takes a look in the mirror one last time. He takes a deep breath before leaving the apartment, carefully crossing the street. He almost wants one of the cars to hit him, to keep him from possibly making a fool of himself.
He checks the time again, leaning up against the side of the building, waiting. Just a few seconds before 7:07, he starts walking around the corner, purposely bumping into the brown-eyed boy as he does this.
"Shit, I'm sorry," Brendon says apologetically, reaching out to touch the other boy's shoulder.
"It's okay," he says, looking up at Brendon through the hair falling over his face.
"Let me buy you some coffee to make it up to you?" Brendon asks hopefully, gesturing to the building beside them. "That is where you were going, right?"
"Normally I just get it to go, so I'm not late for work," he explains, hands a little fidgety.
"Well, today isn't 'normally' is it? Jesus, I nearly knocked you over," Brendon says, laughing softly. "You can be a little late, right? Come on."
"Um," he says quietly, and Brendon can see his eyes light up. "Maybe a little late..."
"Good, I'm Brendon," he says brightly, excited things are going his way for once.
"Ryan," the boy returns, smiling as well.
Ryan tells him his order, sitting down at one of the tables to wait on Brendon to bring it to him. He still looks nervous when Brendon sits down across from him, quietly thanking him.
"What's wrong?" Brendon asks, sliding Ryan's coffee across the table.
"Do you have this effect on everyone?" he asks shyly, moving the cup closer to himself.
"Which one would that be?" Brendon asks, curious.
"I'm never late for work," Ryan admits, and Brendon thinks he can see him blushing slightly. "It took you all of three seconds to get me to come in here with you, and I'm not an easily persuaded person, you know. There's something about you..."
Ryan says that a little bit of change would be kind of nice, and he quickly decides not to go to work at all. They talk long after their coffee has gone cold. They mostly talk about how Brendon ended up living in Chicago, and hardly at all about Ryan.
"I live across the street," Brendon says, not really fond of the silence that's settled over them. "It's a little early, but maybe I could make lunch or something."
---
He doesn't quite remember what happened on the short walk from the coffee shop to his apartment, but he's got Ryan pressed against the door, sliding his tongue into the other boy's mouth. As long as Ryan's going to kiss back, he's not complaining.
Pulling back and trying to catch his breath, Ryan lets out a noise of approval as Brendon trails his swollen lips down to his throat, lapping at his pale flesh.
"Your mouth is just...incredible," Ryan says breathily, letting his head fall back against the door to give Brendon better access to his neck.
"Thanks," he replies, smiling against Ryan's skin. "Can we go to my bed?"
Ryan nods silently, allowing Brendon to grab his hand and lead him down the hall, opening the bedroom door. After taking off his jacket and shoes, leaving them by the door, he sits down on the bed and waits for Brendon to remove his shoes as well.
Ryan doesn't seem to mind as Brendon takes the lead, obliging when he lies next to him and gently pushes him down so that he's lying on his back. He stares up at Brendon with wide, innocent eyes, looking nervous.
"I'm not...I don't do this, okay?" Ryan sighs, looking away. "I'm not slutty and easy to get in bed with, or whatever else you're thinking. I've never done anything like this before."
"I don't think any of those things, Ry," Brendon says reassuringly, running his fingertips over Ryan's flushed cheek. "It's okay as long as it feels right, and this feels right to me."
"It feels right to me too," he replies quietly, giving Brendon a smile before he leans down and captures his lips in a kiss.
---
They stay in bed together, just listening to the sound of the other one breathing and the occasional creak from the ceiling fan above them. Ryan smiles as Brendon pulls him closer, holding him against his body, kissing his neck softly.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that with you," Brendon whispers quietly against his skin.
"What? I just met you today..." Ryan trails off, a little confused. "Have you been like...stalking me or something?"
"Kind of," Brendon tells him meekly, waiting for his reaction. "I was mostly just watching you."
"For how long?" Ryan asks curiously, sliding his arm across Brendon's stomach.
"Three months," he replies, feeling kind of pathetic.
"You waited three months to come down there and talk to me?" Ryan says, pulling away and chuckling slightly.
"Yeah," Brendon says, pressing his mouth to the other boy's ear. "And I'd wait a thousand more to hear your voice or see your smile again."
"That was so cheesy," Ryan giggles, moving in close. "But totally sweet."
"It really was," Brendon answers, closing his eyes.
---
The next morning, Brendon wakes up early, barely able to contain himself. He can still taste Ryan on his lips, feel his touch against his skin. It's almost like the other boy is still beside him.
He gets out of bed, even though it's only five-thirty. He takes another long hot shower, imagining that it's Ryan around him instead of his hand when he comes.
He gets dressed too fast after his shower, feeling overly eager to see Ryan again, and finds himself very bored. He taps his finger on the remote control incessantly as he watches TV, frequently glancing up at the clock in the kitchen.
When six-thirty comes around, a disheveled Jon stumbles out of his room, rubbing at his eyes and gives Brendon an odd look. He decides that he just can't take it anymore, and he says a quick goodbye to Jon, making his way out of the door.
Reaching the small shop across the street, he walks in and sits down at the table that he and Ryan were at the day before, pretending to read the newspaper. Somehow, despite his inability to stay focused, he actually finds some interesting things to entertain him until Ryan gets there.
Only, today, Ryan doesn't show up.
Brendon worries at first, thinking that something bad happened to Ryan, but he just can't bear to have those thoughts running through his head.
He wants to call someone, anyone. He thinks that maybe, he could call the place Ryan works at, but then he realizes he doesn't know where that is, or even the boy's last name.
He starts feeling a little panicky because the day before had been so perfect, and he could be in love with this guy. He doesn't want to let something like this just slip through his fingers.
He decides to go over and ask the guy behind the counter if he perhaps knows Ryan's last name, since he is a frequent customer here. The guy is not helpful though, and he sort of looks at Brendon like he's crazy. He starts thinking that maybe...
Maybe Ryan was never there at all.
---
Brendon has high hopes the next day, and goes to the coffee shop again, sitting at the table in the back, the one they sat at together. Once more, Ryan doesn't show up, and Brendon feels like his heart's been ripped from his chest, and stomped on repeatedly.
He continues to go back daily, making sure he's sitting there every morning at 7:07, hoping that it's the day Ryan will walk in the stuffy building, making everything okay again. The result is always the same though, and he goes back home, sad and alone.
After three months of this routine, he's tired and starting to get a little worried about himself, but he can't help it. By this time, he's stopped feeling hurt and used, and now he's just angry.
When eight finally rolls around, he sadly gets up, making his way out the door hastily. He doesn't pay much attention to the people around him, nearly falling down when he bumps right into someone.
"Watch where you're going, you little fu--" he starts, finding himself without words when he sees Ryan's face. "Oh."
"Hi," Ryan says, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Where the fuck have you been?" Brendon asks harshly, wanting some answers right now.
"I've been going to another coffee shop, closer to my apartment," Ryan replies, not breaking eye contact.
"Why?" Brendon asks, not satisfied with that.
"To see if you kept your word," he says.
"...and what 'word' would that be?" Brendon asks, still waiting for an answer.
"Oh, you know, how you'd wait 'a thousand more just to hear my voice again,'" Ryan says, smiling. "And obviously, you're either crazy, or you really are a man of your word. I'm assuming it's the latter, right?"
Brendon doesn't say anything. Instead he just grabs Ryan, surprising him, and squeezes his arms tightly around the thinner boy.
"Don't ever do that to me again," Brendon sighs in relief, his words muffled against Ryan's shoulder.
"Don't worry, I've really missed you the last three months," Ryan tells him, wrapping his arms around Brendon's body.
"You're telling me," Brendon laughs. "I've been waiting around for you in a goddamn coffee shop for three months!"
"Well, I'm here now, baby," Ryan smiles, pulling back. "Now...let's see what we can do about making up for all of that lost time. Sound good?"
"Sounds perfect. You're perfect," Brendon says excitedly, pulling the other boy across the street to his apartment.
Ryan just smiles wide, and lets him do it.
Ryan / Brendon
2186 words // PG-15 (for language and implied sex)
for March 17 07.
Brendon's been sharing an apartment with Jon for three months now, trying to get back on his feet after his parents kicked him out of the house. Apparently, it's not a good idea to secretly quit college two semesters in just because you're feeling burned out already.
He's finding out quickly that Chicago is definitely not like that of his hometown; sure, there's plenty of trouble for him to get into here, but it's not as appealing as the sin that's dripping from every surface in Las Vegas.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he had someone to hang out with, but no luck there. Jon's presence has been pretty much nonexistent since Brendon moved in; unfortunately, he's been busy working, and spending all of his available time with his new girlfriend. Brendon thinks she's too clingy, but his roommate seems to like her.
The space the two of them are living in is tiny, but it's not like Brendon actually got to take anything of his when he left home. Mostly, he's just thankful for Jon deciding to rent a two-bedroom, and of course, for buying the double bed occupying his own, otherwise empty, room.
He doesn't have to be at work for another three hours, so he settles into his normal morning routine. Every day since he's moved in, he's sat at the window, drinking his coffee. He discovered on the second day, that there are very attractive people living in Chicago.
He found out on the third, fourth, and fifth days that some of them go to the same coffee shop every morning. So every morning, he waits for the skinny boy with brown hair to appear on the sidewalk. He's precise about the time, always arriving at 7:07. Brendon's also noticed that the boy never smiles, not once has he seen it.
He's knows it's a bit stalker-ish of him, to be watching this person every day. But he also knows that it could be worse; he could be following him around or something, but he's not doing that. At least not yet.
Of course, he's thought about it on several different occasions. He would just like to talk to him, and get to know him. Really, all he wants to do is be the one to make the boy smile. But, since he hasn't got the courage or confidence in himself to actually go down there, he'll just watch for now.
---
Brendon yawns, stretching out his limbs across the bed, thankful that he called in to work today. Although he doesn't have to go anywhere, he will, and he's quite nervous about the little trip he'll be making.
He checks the clock on his cell phone, making sure that he's got enough time. It's only six now, so that means that he'll be able to take a nice long shower, and pretty himself up. Today, he's determined to at least say something to the boy with the coffee.
Brendon slowly drags himself out of bed, stopping to grab a towel from the dryer before shutting himself in the bathroom. He spends a good amount of time letting the hot water calm his nerves, sort of. Mostly, he's just trying to work out exactly what he's going to say, if he actually does go through with his plan.
When there's no more time to waste, he turns off the shower and wraps the towel around himself. Because he feels that first impressions are lasting ones, he needs to look his best, which is why he spent almost half an hour contemplating his ensemble the day before.
After Brendon's finally done dressing and fixing his hair, he takes a look in the mirror one last time. He takes a deep breath before leaving the apartment, carefully crossing the street. He almost wants one of the cars to hit him, to keep him from possibly making a fool of himself.
He checks the time again, leaning up against the side of the building, waiting. Just a few seconds before 7:07, he starts walking around the corner, purposely bumping into the brown-eyed boy as he does this.
"Shit, I'm sorry," Brendon says apologetically, reaching out to touch the other boy's shoulder.
"It's okay," he says, looking up at Brendon through the hair falling over his face.
"Let me buy you some coffee to make it up to you?" Brendon asks hopefully, gesturing to the building beside them. "That is where you were going, right?"
"Normally I just get it to go, so I'm not late for work," he explains, hands a little fidgety.
"Well, today isn't 'normally' is it? Jesus, I nearly knocked you over," Brendon says, laughing softly. "You can be a little late, right? Come on."
"Um," he says quietly, and Brendon can see his eyes light up. "Maybe a little late..."
"Good, I'm Brendon," he says brightly, excited things are going his way for once.
"Ryan," the boy returns, smiling as well.
Ryan tells him his order, sitting down at one of the tables to wait on Brendon to bring it to him. He still looks nervous when Brendon sits down across from him, quietly thanking him.
"What's wrong?" Brendon asks, sliding Ryan's coffee across the table.
"Do you have this effect on everyone?" he asks shyly, moving the cup closer to himself.
"Which one would that be?" Brendon asks, curious.
"I'm never late for work," Ryan admits, and Brendon thinks he can see him blushing slightly. "It took you all of three seconds to get me to come in here with you, and I'm not an easily persuaded person, you know. There's something about you..."
Ryan says that a little bit of change would be kind of nice, and he quickly decides not to go to work at all. They talk long after their coffee has gone cold. They mostly talk about how Brendon ended up living in Chicago, and hardly at all about Ryan.
"I live across the street," Brendon says, not really fond of the silence that's settled over them. "It's a little early, but maybe I could make lunch or something."
---
He doesn't quite remember what happened on the short walk from the coffee shop to his apartment, but he's got Ryan pressed against the door, sliding his tongue into the other boy's mouth. As long as Ryan's going to kiss back, he's not complaining.
Pulling back and trying to catch his breath, Ryan lets out a noise of approval as Brendon trails his swollen lips down to his throat, lapping at his pale flesh.
"Your mouth is just...incredible," Ryan says breathily, letting his head fall back against the door to give Brendon better access to his neck.
"Thanks," he replies, smiling against Ryan's skin. "Can we go to my bed?"
Ryan nods silently, allowing Brendon to grab his hand and lead him down the hall, opening the bedroom door. After taking off his jacket and shoes, leaving them by the door, he sits down on the bed and waits for Brendon to remove his shoes as well.
Ryan doesn't seem to mind as Brendon takes the lead, obliging when he lies next to him and gently pushes him down so that he's lying on his back. He stares up at Brendon with wide, innocent eyes, looking nervous.
"I'm not...I don't do this, okay?" Ryan sighs, looking away. "I'm not slutty and easy to get in bed with, or whatever else you're thinking. I've never done anything like this before."
"I don't think any of those things, Ry," Brendon says reassuringly, running his fingertips over Ryan's flushed cheek. "It's okay as long as it feels right, and this feels right to me."
"It feels right to me too," he replies quietly, giving Brendon a smile before he leans down and captures his lips in a kiss.
---
They stay in bed together, just listening to the sound of the other one breathing and the occasional creak from the ceiling fan above them. Ryan smiles as Brendon pulls him closer, holding him against his body, kissing his neck softly.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that with you," Brendon whispers quietly against his skin.
"What? I just met you today..." Ryan trails off, a little confused. "Have you been like...stalking me or something?"
"Kind of," Brendon tells him meekly, waiting for his reaction. "I was mostly just watching you."
"For how long?" Ryan asks curiously, sliding his arm across Brendon's stomach.
"Three months," he replies, feeling kind of pathetic.
"You waited three months to come down there and talk to me?" Ryan says, pulling away and chuckling slightly.
"Yeah," Brendon says, pressing his mouth to the other boy's ear. "And I'd wait a thousand more to hear your voice or see your smile again."
"That was so cheesy," Ryan giggles, moving in close. "But totally sweet."
"It really was," Brendon answers, closing his eyes.
---
The next morning, Brendon wakes up early, barely able to contain himself. He can still taste Ryan on his lips, feel his touch against his skin. It's almost like the other boy is still beside him.
He gets out of bed, even though it's only five-thirty. He takes another long hot shower, imagining that it's Ryan around him instead of his hand when he comes.
He gets dressed too fast after his shower, feeling overly eager to see Ryan again, and finds himself very bored. He taps his finger on the remote control incessantly as he watches TV, frequently glancing up at the clock in the kitchen.
When six-thirty comes around, a disheveled Jon stumbles out of his room, rubbing at his eyes and gives Brendon an odd look. He decides that he just can't take it anymore, and he says a quick goodbye to Jon, making his way out of the door.
Reaching the small shop across the street, he walks in and sits down at the table that he and Ryan were at the day before, pretending to read the newspaper. Somehow, despite his inability to stay focused, he actually finds some interesting things to entertain him until Ryan gets there.
Only, today, Ryan doesn't show up.
Brendon worries at first, thinking that something bad happened to Ryan, but he just can't bear to have those thoughts running through his head.
He wants to call someone, anyone. He thinks that maybe, he could call the place Ryan works at, but then he realizes he doesn't know where that is, or even the boy's last name.
He starts feeling a little panicky because the day before had been so perfect, and he could be in love with this guy. He doesn't want to let something like this just slip through his fingers.
He decides to go over and ask the guy behind the counter if he perhaps knows Ryan's last name, since he is a frequent customer here. The guy is not helpful though, and he sort of looks at Brendon like he's crazy. He starts thinking that maybe...
Maybe Ryan was never there at all.
---
Brendon has high hopes the next day, and goes to the coffee shop again, sitting at the table in the back, the one they sat at together. Once more, Ryan doesn't show up, and Brendon feels like his heart's been ripped from his chest, and stomped on repeatedly.
He continues to go back daily, making sure he's sitting there every morning at 7:07, hoping that it's the day Ryan will walk in the stuffy building, making everything okay again. The result is always the same though, and he goes back home, sad and alone.
After three months of this routine, he's tired and starting to get a little worried about himself, but he can't help it. By this time, he's stopped feeling hurt and used, and now he's just angry.
When eight finally rolls around, he sadly gets up, making his way out the door hastily. He doesn't pay much attention to the people around him, nearly falling down when he bumps right into someone.
"Watch where you're going, you little fu--" he starts, finding himself without words when he sees Ryan's face. "Oh."
"Hi," Ryan says, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Where the fuck have you been?" Brendon asks harshly, wanting some answers right now.
"I've been going to another coffee shop, closer to my apartment," Ryan replies, not breaking eye contact.
"Why?" Brendon asks, not satisfied with that.
"To see if you kept your word," he says.
"...and what 'word' would that be?" Brendon asks, still waiting for an answer.
"Oh, you know, how you'd wait 'a thousand more just to hear my voice again,'" Ryan says, smiling. "And obviously, you're either crazy, or you really are a man of your word. I'm assuming it's the latter, right?"
Brendon doesn't say anything. Instead he just grabs Ryan, surprising him, and squeezes his arms tightly around the thinner boy.
"Don't ever do that to me again," Brendon sighs in relief, his words muffled against Ryan's shoulder.
"Don't worry, I've really missed you the last three months," Ryan tells him, wrapping his arms around Brendon's body.
"You're telling me," Brendon laughs. "I've been waiting around for you in a goddamn coffee shop for three months!"
"Well, I'm here now, baby," Ryan smiles, pulling back. "Now...let's see what we can do about making up for all of that lost time. Sound good?"
"Sounds perfect. You're perfect," Brendon says excitedly, pulling the other boy across the street to his apartment.
Ryan just smiles wide, and lets him do it.