You're All I've Got Tonight [1/9]
Title: You’re All I’ve Got Tonight
Author: xstockpiledmmrs Anna
Rating: PG-13 for language. (Ratings will change through out the story)
Pairing: Ryan/Spencer ; Ryan/Brendon
POV: Third (Ryan-centric)
Summary: Ryan’s always had someone to hold him when he goes to sleep, and he’s never gone a night without them. They hold them, promise him a life of love, and the next morning, they’re gone. It’s all a figment of his imagination. But now, Ryan’s starting to see similar characteristics between his lover and the people he knows, and it’s much more complication then he could ever have imagined.
Disclaimer: I do not own the people in this story, no matter how much I want to. The plot, however, is mine. Title belongs to the Smashing Pumpkins.
Author Notes: So, I finally realized I’d put off writing a story long enough, and finally started this up sometime in January. It took a while to complete, but I got it done. I all ready have an idea for my next story, and I plan to start writing it in a few weeks once the plot is more thought out.
Dedications: omgz_unicorns How could I not dedicate this to Edi? ; prescribepills My beta, who helped make this story a million times better than it could ever be. ; perriotsickness She threatened me with a paddle, which scared me into finishing this.
Ever since he was a six-year-old boy, George Ryan Ross knew that one day, he’d have someone to hold him and love him at night. He was a boy of ambitions and goals, and he knew what he wanted. Every night, George would sleep on one side of his twin-sized bed, curled up underneath his Ninja Turtles velvet blanket. Next to him, there would be a small pillow, and a bunched up, navy blue knitted blanket with dancing snowmen stitched onto the fabric. As he fell asleep, he’d throw his small arm over the lump of a blanket, nuzzling his nose into the space between the smaller pillow and blanket.
George could just imagine the scent of someone who smelled like strawberries and cinnamon and cherry lollipops all at once; someone who would hold him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear until he fell asleep. George would just shut his eyes, feel that arm that he knew was there wrap around his tiny waist and pull him closer, letting him curl into the warm body. They could both fit on the small bed oh-so-perfectly, huddled underneath his Ninja Turtles blanket late at night with the moonlight streaming through the cracks of his bamboo-styled blinds, casting a wonderful, eerie light over them.
Every night, George would breathe in that imaginary scent, and hear the loveliest voice he had ever heard singing comforting words into his ear, and feel arms rocking him gently. George could feel that he was loved, could feel the warmth radiating off of the body and keeping his fragile frame warm, could feel that this was his soulmate helping him drift off into sleep.
George loved his bedtime, and he never argued with his mother about it. He would hurry and get ready for another night of sleep with his lover, and he would brush his teeth as best as he could, and use double the amount of mouthwash, and brush his hair so it was pretty. He would walk into his room as soon as he was sure he was presentable enough, and he would go to his bay window seat, reaching an arm up to grasp the string for the blinds, tugging on it and letting each of the three sets of blinds drop to the windowsill. Then, George would fix the pillows and stuffed animals on the window seat, making sure they were all happy and perfectly arranged.
He would walk over to his bed, stopping at the side where his lover would sleep and kneel down, plugging in his nightlight and turning on the switch. Happy with how things were so far, George would saunter over to the light switch next to the door, turning off the overhead light. His honey gaze would follow along the white carpet all the way to the closet only a few feet away, making sure the two sliding doors were shut before he ran, jumping onto the bed that jutted out from the wall. George would clumsily crawl underneath his Ninja Turtles blanket, casting wary glances at the frightening closet.
The little boy would then look towards the empty side of his bed, suddenly able to imagine the most beautiful face, a face that was pale and tan at the same time, with delicious chocolate eyes and bright blue eyes all at once, and lips that were made to sing him to sleep. And George would happily crawl into his lover’s arms, shutting his eyes as he nuzzled into the warm body, the smell of strawberries and cinnamon and cherry lollipops that was always on his mind filling his nose once again. George would happily whisper an ‘I love you’ to his imaginary lover, the one who could always comfort him when he needed it. And just as he was falling asleep, with his warm lover singing to him, George could swear that against his ear, the warm breath would repeat the same words to him, and then he was fast asleep, dreaming of his lover.
--
Years passed, and things changed.
Six changed to sixteen, George changed to Ryan, the stuffed animals on the window seat changed to guitars and tabs, and Ninja Turtle blankets changed to black comforters that encircled him and kept him nice and warm. However, there was one thing that never changed in the room of Ryan Ross.
His unnamed lover.
At night, still, Ryan would wiggle his tall body onto the twin-sized bed, letting his lover pull him in and hug him tightly. They would still smell like strawberries and cinnamon and cherry lollipops, and Ryan would still think of that lingering scent as he was supposed to be paying attention during his Civics class, learning about Nevada government and comparing the state’s government to that of the country’s. Ryan wasn’t all that great at paying attention in class when he had a perfectly good lover at home in his bed, one that could make him smile and laugh when there was not much to smile or laugh about.
--
“Stupid fucking Urie.”
Ryan let out a crisp, happy laugh as he watched his best friend, Spencer, push a freshmen out of the way so he could walk his lazy ass all the way over to where Ryan sat at a table outside of the high school, where he was eating his lunch he’d packed from home. Ryan looked over Spencer, taking in the sight of a damp blue-eyed male with what looked like mashed potatoes smeared all over his face.
Spencer slammed down his tray of food, and Ryan peeked at the mashed potatoes on the tray; they had a similar shape to that of Spencer’s face. “That kid is so fucking fucked up! Just because all the girls swoon over him, and he can cheat his way through school, he thinks he’s so fucking great and can just trip people and dump water on them and push their faces into fucking potatoes!”
Ryan just continued on laughing at Spencer, finding it funny how his friend was reacting to a simple, harmless prank like this. Of course, Ryan didn’t care much, because never before had he been a victim to Brendon Urie’s jokes. That boy was one of the most popular kids in school, with the girls following after him like lost puppies. Secretly, Ryan wished he could join in with those girls, his tongue hanging out and dragging on the floor as he stared at the ass that was Brendon Urie (and he wasn’t just talking about the way he acted, either).
“Shut the fuck up, Ry. I swear, one of these days, I’m just going to knock what little of a brain he has right out of his head,” Spencer angrily pushed his tray away from him and grabbed Ryan’s brown paper bag, digging into it to see what he had for lunch. “You have a shitty lunch. Pack better stuff tomorrow.”
Ryan pouted slightly, grabbing his bag back and holding it close to his chest. “Hey, I made this lunch four minutes before I left. It was the best I could do.” He tried to glare at Spencer but failed, and soon the two were both laughing when there wasn’t much to laugh about at all.
Sometimes, Ryan liked to think Spencer was the lover in his bed.
--
Brendon Urie was laughing with a group of girls around him, winking at one every now and then and watching how they would giggle. “I swear, he was so stupid that he just jumped right into the lake and got bit on the ass by a fish!”
Ryan watched curiously from across the hall, listening carefully as he tugged out his Biology binder from his locker, licking his lips. He loved listening to Brendon speak and laugh, and always caught a sense of familiarity, especially when their eyes would randomly meet. Ryan always felt like he was being sucked in by the large, chocolate brown eyes, and he sometimes wished he could run into his arms and kiss his large, enticing lips.
But, a boring, invisible student couldn’t do that to one of the most amazing guys like, ever. Even in his dreams, where his mother had said anything could happen, Ryan couldn’t make himself be with Brendon, no matter how hard he tried.
“Hey, you.”
Ryan snapped his head up, a crack sounding from his neck from moving it so fast. He was met face to face with none other then Brendon, who was simply standing in front of him. “Um… hi?”
“You’re standing on my homework assignment. Pick it up and give it to me, yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.” Ryan bent down and lifted up the sheet of paper he had been standing on without realizing it, handing it over to Brendon. “Sorry.”
The other male just grinned smugly at him taking the paper and winking at Ryan. “Thanks a lot,” he said, turning and walking away to go back to his group of girls. As Brendon moved, Ryan could just catch the scent of strawberries and cinnamon and cherry lollipops lingering in the air, and he stood there, just drinking in the familiar smell and trying to pound it into his memory.
He hadn’t really realized, though, that the homework he’d given to Brendon had really been his own homework, an essay that had taken at least a week to get the information for and write. Ryan cursed under his breath once he’d reached his Civics class and figured this out, unable to turn in his paper.
Sometimes, Ryan liked to think Brendon was the lover in his bed, no matter how much of a jerk he was.
Author: xstockpiledmmrs Anna
Rating: PG-13 for language. (Ratings will change through out the story)
Pairing: Ryan/Spencer ; Ryan/Brendon
POV: Third (Ryan-centric)
Summary: Ryan’s always had someone to hold him when he goes to sleep, and he’s never gone a night without them. They hold them, promise him a life of love, and the next morning, they’re gone. It’s all a figment of his imagination. But now, Ryan’s starting to see similar characteristics between his lover and the people he knows, and it’s much more complication then he could ever have imagined.
Disclaimer: I do not own the people in this story, no matter how much I want to. The plot, however, is mine. Title belongs to the Smashing Pumpkins.
Author Notes: So, I finally realized I’d put off writing a story long enough, and finally started this up sometime in January. It took a while to complete, but I got it done. I all ready have an idea for my next story, and I plan to start writing it in a few weeks once the plot is more thought out.
Dedications: omgz_unicorns How could I not dedicate this to Edi? ; prescribepills My beta, who helped make this story a million times better than it could ever be. ; perriotsickness She threatened me with a paddle, which scared me into finishing this.
Ever since he was a six-year-old boy, George Ryan Ross knew that one day, he’d have someone to hold him and love him at night. He was a boy of ambitions and goals, and he knew what he wanted. Every night, George would sleep on one side of his twin-sized bed, curled up underneath his Ninja Turtles velvet blanket. Next to him, there would be a small pillow, and a bunched up, navy blue knitted blanket with dancing snowmen stitched onto the fabric. As he fell asleep, he’d throw his small arm over the lump of a blanket, nuzzling his nose into the space between the smaller pillow and blanket.
George could just imagine the scent of someone who smelled like strawberries and cinnamon and cherry lollipops all at once; someone who would hold him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear until he fell asleep. George would just shut his eyes, feel that arm that he knew was there wrap around his tiny waist and pull him closer, letting him curl into the warm body. They could both fit on the small bed oh-so-perfectly, huddled underneath his Ninja Turtles blanket late at night with the moonlight streaming through the cracks of his bamboo-styled blinds, casting a wonderful, eerie light over them.
Every night, George would breathe in that imaginary scent, and hear the loveliest voice he had ever heard singing comforting words into his ear, and feel arms rocking him gently. George could feel that he was loved, could feel the warmth radiating off of the body and keeping his fragile frame warm, could feel that this was his soulmate helping him drift off into sleep.
George loved his bedtime, and he never argued with his mother about it. He would hurry and get ready for another night of sleep with his lover, and he would brush his teeth as best as he could, and use double the amount of mouthwash, and brush his hair so it was pretty. He would walk into his room as soon as he was sure he was presentable enough, and he would go to his bay window seat, reaching an arm up to grasp the string for the blinds, tugging on it and letting each of the three sets of blinds drop to the windowsill. Then, George would fix the pillows and stuffed animals on the window seat, making sure they were all happy and perfectly arranged.
He would walk over to his bed, stopping at the side where his lover would sleep and kneel down, plugging in his nightlight and turning on the switch. Happy with how things were so far, George would saunter over to the light switch next to the door, turning off the overhead light. His honey gaze would follow along the white carpet all the way to the closet only a few feet away, making sure the two sliding doors were shut before he ran, jumping onto the bed that jutted out from the wall. George would clumsily crawl underneath his Ninja Turtles blanket, casting wary glances at the frightening closet.
The little boy would then look towards the empty side of his bed, suddenly able to imagine the most beautiful face, a face that was pale and tan at the same time, with delicious chocolate eyes and bright blue eyes all at once, and lips that were made to sing him to sleep. And George would happily crawl into his lover’s arms, shutting his eyes as he nuzzled into the warm body, the smell of strawberries and cinnamon and cherry lollipops that was always on his mind filling his nose once again. George would happily whisper an ‘I love you’ to his imaginary lover, the one who could always comfort him when he needed it. And just as he was falling asleep, with his warm lover singing to him, George could swear that against his ear, the warm breath would repeat the same words to him, and then he was fast asleep, dreaming of his lover.
--
Years passed, and things changed.
Six changed to sixteen, George changed to Ryan, the stuffed animals on the window seat changed to guitars and tabs, and Ninja Turtle blankets changed to black comforters that encircled him and kept him nice and warm. However, there was one thing that never changed in the room of Ryan Ross.
His unnamed lover.
At night, still, Ryan would wiggle his tall body onto the twin-sized bed, letting his lover pull him in and hug him tightly. They would still smell like strawberries and cinnamon and cherry lollipops, and Ryan would still think of that lingering scent as he was supposed to be paying attention during his Civics class, learning about Nevada government and comparing the state’s government to that of the country’s. Ryan wasn’t all that great at paying attention in class when he had a perfectly good lover at home in his bed, one that could make him smile and laugh when there was not much to smile or laugh about.
--
“Stupid fucking Urie.”
Ryan let out a crisp, happy laugh as he watched his best friend, Spencer, push a freshmen out of the way so he could walk his lazy ass all the way over to where Ryan sat at a table outside of the high school, where he was eating his lunch he’d packed from home. Ryan looked over Spencer, taking in the sight of a damp blue-eyed male with what looked like mashed potatoes smeared all over his face.
Spencer slammed down his tray of food, and Ryan peeked at the mashed potatoes on the tray; they had a similar shape to that of Spencer’s face. “That kid is so fucking fucked up! Just because all the girls swoon over him, and he can cheat his way through school, he thinks he’s so fucking great and can just trip people and dump water on them and push their faces into fucking potatoes!”
Ryan just continued on laughing at Spencer, finding it funny how his friend was reacting to a simple, harmless prank like this. Of course, Ryan didn’t care much, because never before had he been a victim to Brendon Urie’s jokes. That boy was one of the most popular kids in school, with the girls following after him like lost puppies. Secretly, Ryan wished he could join in with those girls, his tongue hanging out and dragging on the floor as he stared at the ass that was Brendon Urie (and he wasn’t just talking about the way he acted, either).
“Shut the fuck up, Ry. I swear, one of these days, I’m just going to knock what little of a brain he has right out of his head,” Spencer angrily pushed his tray away from him and grabbed Ryan’s brown paper bag, digging into it to see what he had for lunch. “You have a shitty lunch. Pack better stuff tomorrow.”
Ryan pouted slightly, grabbing his bag back and holding it close to his chest. “Hey, I made this lunch four minutes before I left. It was the best I could do.” He tried to glare at Spencer but failed, and soon the two were both laughing when there wasn’t much to laugh about at all.
Sometimes, Ryan liked to think Spencer was the lover in his bed.
--
Brendon Urie was laughing with a group of girls around him, winking at one every now and then and watching how they would giggle. “I swear, he was so stupid that he just jumped right into the lake and got bit on the ass by a fish!”
Ryan watched curiously from across the hall, listening carefully as he tugged out his Biology binder from his locker, licking his lips. He loved listening to Brendon speak and laugh, and always caught a sense of familiarity, especially when their eyes would randomly meet. Ryan always felt like he was being sucked in by the large, chocolate brown eyes, and he sometimes wished he could run into his arms and kiss his large, enticing lips.
But, a boring, invisible student couldn’t do that to one of the most amazing guys like, ever. Even in his dreams, where his mother had said anything could happen, Ryan couldn’t make himself be with Brendon, no matter how hard he tried.
“Hey, you.”
Ryan snapped his head up, a crack sounding from his neck from moving it so fast. He was met face to face with none other then Brendon, who was simply standing in front of him. “Um… hi?”
“You’re standing on my homework assignment. Pick it up and give it to me, yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.” Ryan bent down and lifted up the sheet of paper he had been standing on without realizing it, handing it over to Brendon. “Sorry.”
The other male just grinned smugly at him taking the paper and winking at Ryan. “Thanks a lot,” he said, turning and walking away to go back to his group of girls. As Brendon moved, Ryan could just catch the scent of strawberries and cinnamon and cherry lollipops lingering in the air, and he stood there, just drinking in the familiar smell and trying to pound it into his memory.
He hadn’t really realized, though, that the homework he’d given to Brendon had really been his own homework, an essay that had taken at least a week to get the information for and write. Ryan cursed under his breath once he’d reached his Civics class and figured this out, unable to turn in his paper.
Sometimes, Ryan liked to think Brendon was the lover in his bed, no matter how much of a jerk he was.