Desire of the Soul (Chapter 3)
Title: Desire of the Soul (Chapter 3)
Rating: PG-13. Swearing included.
Summary: Brendon just wants to be noticed, loved and cared for. Too bad it takes him through hell and back.
Warnings: Eating disorder, slash
Disclaimer: Nope….Panic still isn’t mine, dammit.
A/N: Definitely not my best work but I had to get this part out of the way. I promise my writing will suck less later on :/
Ryan didn’t let it go.
Instead he sits quietly for the remainder of the ride back to the hotel. He keeps a slight distance between Brendon and himself and makes sure everyone knows he’s not in the mood to talk by messing around with his phone. Brendon is slightly curious if Ryan’s decided the worst is wrong with him, like terminal illness, and is texting Pete about how something’s wrong with Brendon and they need to cancel the tour. Knowing Ryan, he’s probably just playing some game on his phone and making Brendon nervous about nothing.
They get to the hotel and Ryan is the first off the bus with Jon whispering a “What’s got him in a mood this time?” and Spencer barely glances at Brendon before shrugging it off.
Brendon is slow to meet Ryan up at their room, taking his time to make sure their instruments get put away okay and the bus is locked up for the night and of course he had to talk to the hotel manager before he finally decided it was time to face whatever was coming. He had a feeling tonight wasn’t going to be much fun for either of them, but at least Ryan has naivety on his side. Brendon knows what’s going on, he just can’t say.
He wasn’t stalling, really.
By the time he gets up to their hotel room, after bidding Spencer and Jon a long good night of course, Ryan is just getting out of the shower. Brendon closes the door behind him and Ryan barely glances up before pulling a shirt over his thin form, it’s hem just barely meeting the cloth of Ryan’s boxers so when he moves just right the shirt rides up to reveal a slight strip of his skin. Brendon has to tear his eyes away though as he moves further into the room.
“Ry…” He says carefully, stepping closer and reaching for the older’s arm.
“You should shower. It was a long show.” Ryan replies coldly, removing all contact between them and moving to go sit down on the end of one of the beds, quickly grabbing for his notebook.
Brendon sighs but does as he’s told. If Ryan doesn’t want to talk then Brendon wouldn’t make him. When he gets quiet Brendon knows if his pushes him things will only end up worse for them. It’s better to just let the him be for a bit until he’s ready to talk. Yet, Brendon has never been very patient. So he finishes his shower and heads out with the intentions to just make Ryan’s bad attitude go away.
He’s laying on the bed he’s claimed for his own self, a book held close. Brendon doesn’t look at the title to know it’s something poetic and old timey and something only Ryan Ross would be able to stand. He tries to catch Ryan’s eye as he switches his towel for some boxers but, to no avail, Ryan just ignores him. Brendon doesn’t much like sleeping in clothing as it is, so leaving his t-shirt off is nothing new as he makes to crawl his way up the bed to drop right on top of his stick-thin boyfriend.
“Oof,” Ryan huffs out with a small glare before going back to his book and Brendon quickly rolls off of him, because he’s too large and doesn’t want to crush Ryan with his own weight.
“What are you reading?” Brendon asks lowly, sitting up slightly and cuddling close to his boyfriend, feigning interest in whatever it is Ryan insists is a proper form of entertainment.
The only answer he receives is a glare and Brendon pouts before tucking his face into the crook of Ryan’s neck. He doesn’t waste much time, pressing small kisses to the skin at the base of it, where Ryan’s collar bones are perfectly visible. He doesn’t think about how his own probably aren’t that prominent and instead works his way up, adding slight nips and licks at the skin. He’s pretty sure he feels Ryan shudder under his touch as Brendon slides one hand up a slim thigh.
“Bren, stop.” He says before trying to sit up further in an attempt to get him to back off a little. Brendon never was good at following directions, always a troublemaker. So he skips ahead a bit and presses his lips to Ryan’s, desperate for a response. It takes a minute, but it’s there. The simple pressure of lips kissing back.
He takes the book out of Ryan’s hand and somehow manages to push it aside without breaking their kiss. Careful with it, because he doesn’t need Ryan throwing a new bitch fit about the book too. He guides Ryan down a bit so they are laying horizontally and Ryan’s hands play up and down the skin of his bare back while Brendon’s are clutched to Ryan’s sides, fingers gripping against jutting hip bones before sliding up to splay out across Ryan’s ribcage.
And fuck, why couldn’t Brendon be this tiny?
He moves from their tongue battle for dominance that Brendon’s just sort of given up on because he wants Ryan to be in control. He doesn’t want him to be mad anymore and he wants to make Ryan forget that Brendon has a very dangerous secret he’s keeping. He wants Ryan to let go of the past couple hours when Brendon got dizzy on stage and forgot the words to some of their songs. It was no big deal and Ryan shouldn’t have to worry about it. So he decides to move back to sucking on skin, possibly leaving a mark as he bites softly at the skin below Ryan’s ear while the older runs his fingers down Brendon’s spine, the pads of his fingers feeling against each abnormally clear vertebrae.
And freezes.
“Brendon.” He says, and this time there’s not room for Brendon to keep going. The tone he uses is cold and their moment is lost, forcing Brendon to pull back slightly. As a last attempt of distraction Brendon makes to kiss him again but Ryan turns his head and sits them both up again.
“No, Ry, come on. Please.” Is his last attempt, but he knows it’s in vain.
They sit in silence for a few minutes and Brendon traces a pattern on their sheets and covers with his fingers. Ryan has his knees up to his chest and he’s just watching Brendon. His eyes are almost analyzing. It makes him feel a bit vulnerable and scared but he doesn’t move to cover himself, that’d only be giving Ryan ammunition to start this whole conversation that Brendon wants him to avoid. For Ryan’s own good, really.
“Ry…?” He says, because he hates this silence between them and he hates that Ryan is just staring at him.
“Is something wrong with you?”
And Brendon cringes. He didn’t expect Ryan to be this straightforward. The way he puts it is something greater than it should be; making him feel like he’s suddenly started seeing things or he’s dying from cancer or something big and important. He kind of feels bad that he’s not dying of a rare blood disease or something. Because saying this thing out loud, admitting that he has…eating issues, well, it doesn’t sound as bad as everyone makes it out to be and Brendon feels sort of stupid for having this made into something so big.
“I-“The words start but get stuck in his throat and he has to swallow around the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry.”
Then Ryan is going wide eyed and, like a switch has been flipped within him, shaking his head before reaching out to pull Brendon close to him. One minuet he’s mad and then he just looks worried, scared almost. Brendon almost wonders what kind of act he’s putting on before realizing Ryan is genuinely concerned. “No, don’t be sorry. It’ll be okay. Whatever it is we’ll - we’ll fix it and make it okay again.” Brendon melts against him because Ryan’s optimism is very sweet but naive. “You just-you have to tell me what’s going on, Bren. You have to tell me or I can’t help.”
“There’s nothing you can do though.” And it’s true.
It’s not like he can force Brendon to do anything. Even if he could it wouldn’t help. If he couldn’t do it he just couldn’t do it and there was nothing anyone else could do to help him but sit by and watch. Scary as the thought was, Brendon didn’t exactly mind the idea that no one could help him. He was comfortable not eating. Food just brought him worry and anxiety. He didn’t need that. What he needed was to be perfect and in control. For the band, for his future, for Ryan.
“You never know until you try.” He tells Brendon in the best clichéd tone he can muster up for the moment. Along with it he whispers, “What’s going on with you, B?”
“I-I can’t do it.”
“Do what, come on, I’m not going to be mad, just tell me.” But he doesn’t believe he won’t be mad. People tend to get angry about these kinds of things. Things they don’t understand.
“I can’t eat, Ryan, I can’t. I fucking can’t.” And he doesn’t need to say the actual term; he knows Ryan understands. After all, he’s not stupid. He’s seen the signs and probably seen the way Brendon tends to linger slightly when they pass a mirror and the way he never consumes anything. He sits, he stares, he mashes and moves. He doesn’t consume.
He just holds Brendon closer when the younger starts to shake slightly with suppressed tears and if they weren’t having such a serious discussion Brendon would mock him for being so girly when Ryan starts to rock them back and forth comfortingly. He can’t help himself tracing over Ryan’s skin under his shirt feeling against his bones. Because his boyfriend is an obsession to trigger this thing going on within him and he can’t help it. Ryan’s beautiful and Brendon fully expects him to call it quits.
“You’re so gorgeous.” Is whispered against his shoulder as Ryan lays them down again, only loosing contact for a few seconds to turn out their light before pressing back close and moving Brendon’s bangs out of his eyes. “It’s okay, go to sleep. We can talk more later. Okay?”
And Brendon nods against his pillow, pretending he doesn’t hear the slight hitch in Ryan’s voice at the end. He also tries not to hear Ryan sniffle nearly silently behind him when he thinks Brendon has gone to sleep. Because Ryan is concerned, but he’s Ryan. So he has to keep a straight faced mask on.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Brendon wakes in the morning to bright sunlight coming through the window and a sad lack of warmth behind him where Ryan had been when he went to sleep. He sits up a bit too quickly and blinks around sleep, mouth dry from breathing through his mouth all night. None of that matters though as his hands pull at the sheets as though that’ll suddenly make Ryan re-appear. He’s about to get up to go on a Ryan-Hunt when the bathroom door opens and Ryan comes out fully dressed.
“Hey,” He says carefully when he sees Brendon mildly-awake and sitting up. The hesitant way he speaks makes Brendon feel vaguely like he’s just caught someone sneaking away after sex so they don’t have to face the person in the morning. “It’s early still, you should go back to sleep.”
“Why are you up then?” He asks groggily and scratches the back of his head, looking around for a source of the time.
“Jon and Spence wanted to go out for breakfast…”
“Oh.” And Brendon is suddenly fully awake. Because his instincts of avoiding food have kicked in and he’s already starting to form an excuse to get out of it but Ryan beats him to it.
“I told them you weren’t feeling good and you were going to sleep in today.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” And last night comes back to him and he realizes all over again that Ryan knows.
“….Have fun, then?”
“I will. You really should get more sleep while I’m gone though.”
“Okay.”
And with a nod Ryan moves to give Brendon a kiss before leaving him to wonder just how long Ryan will be in the shocked stage and help him get out of eating before he starts trying to make him eat again. The door closes behind him and Brendon lets out a groan before falling back down into the mattress of the bed, his groan still ringing out and echoing off walls of the room to bounce back at him.
Next Chapter: Coming Soon
Previous Chapter: http://xx-dreamerz-xx.livejournal.com/2375.html#cutid1