Unfinished (With Fear in Your Smile) [4/?]
Title: Unfinished (With Fear in Your Smile) [4]
Author: longerthanwedo
Beta: melody_so_sweet
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan for now.
Rating: PG-13
POV: 3rd, Brendon centric.
Summary: He’s writing in blood; a feeble attempt to finish the story. The story of his life, of him and him and him. It’s a story of life, of love, of lions and fireworks and years gone by. It’s a story of blood, plenty of blood.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters. Title and inspiration from Something Corporate.
Author’s Note: Plot’s progressing, yay. Thanks to those who have commented so far, and any lurkers feel free to let me know who’s there! :)
Prologue I Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3
No matter how smoothly he walked, Brendon's camera swung on its strap and bounced against his chest. He could have been floating, and it would have still swung there, pushed by only the expanding of his lungs and the beating of his heart.
He curled his fingers around the side of the camera and stilled it.
Brendon was walking, but he didn't exactly know where. He didn't have an agenda, a plan, or work. Saturday in December, and the sun was shining. It beat down upon the city, bright and demanding, and if there had been snow it would have melted underfoot. Every couple of seconds he would stop, lift his camera, and snap at the sun or the trees or a crack in the sidewalk.
Today felt like the first day of spring.
Sometimes Brendon had the urge to point his lens at one of the people on the street, at a face smiling or laughing or serious and sad. He wanted to capture the expression, but he never did, he never had the courage to push the button.
Because in general, Brendon didn’t talk to people. He didn’t socialize outside of work and a few friends, he didn’t keep in touch with high school peers, and he certainly didn’t fill his memory card with faces he would never get close to
His photo albums, sitting on top of a slightly dusty dresser, were filled with scenery and fish. He didn’t think there was a single portrait in there, in all his years of picture memories.
Brendon walked until the sun had moved from in front of his eyes until it warmed the back of his head, and he wondered what time it was. He checked his nonexistent watch, then decided to tell the time by the rumbling in his stomach. His eyes moved, back and forth, scanning store windows, cafés, glowing neon open signs. One sign was different from the others; it made him smile and duck inside.
There were only a few people in front of him, waiting to sit, and none of them were families.
“Hello, how many are with you today?”
Brendon heard the familiar voice and grinned, drumming his fingers on the side of his camera and craning his neck to see over taller heads and broader shoulders. He hardly glanced at the poster on the wall, and when the line disintegrated Brendon was left with his grin in front of Ryan’s, and Ryan’s was just as big if not a little more surprised. Brendon felt like hugging him, but didn’t and waved instead.
Ryan waved back, but played the waiter card, repeating his line.
“Well, maybe…” Brendon looked at Ryan, eyebrows raised. “Maybe two?”
Ryan looked around, contemplating. “I get off in half an hour,” he said, voice quiet, leaning towards Brendon a bit and Brendon smiled, slipping a sneaky thumbs up out from beneath his sleeve. Then, “Your seat will be ready in just a few minutes, sir.”
Brendon gave him one last grin and shuffled off to the chair in the corner, a familiar sense of déjà vu settling over him as he smiled and looked up at the ceiling.
He blinked his eyes closed, a long blink, and Ryan’s were there, all lions and fireflies and Brendon thought maybe he could fall in love with Ryan. Maybe, if he was given the chance. But he didn’t want to think too much on it, because he doubted he would. He doubted Ryan would let him fall in love, because no one had let him before. No one had ever given him the chance to love them. He blinked his eyes, open, and chased away those visions with red-cased fluorescent light.
There was no use wondering.
“Brendon!”
He stood up as if someone had tugged on a leash, the sound of his name an instant beacon. He followed Ryan to a table, tucked in the back corner of the restaurant, and gave him a smile and a thank you before looking down at the menu.
Somehow he wasn’t that hungry anymore. He ordered a coffee anyway, and sipped it slowly, one mouthful at a time for all of that half hour, until the liquid had cooled and soothed his slightly burnt tongue. He stared at the grain in the tabletop, shiny and coated with wax, and his mind didn’t contemplate much of anything, until a hand appeared in his line of sight, short fingernails contrasting against the wood.
He looked up.
“You done with that coffee?” Ryan asked, smirk in his voice, and Brendon nodded. “Want to walk? It’s so nice out.”
Brendon nodded again and stood up, an inch of cold coffee left on the table.
Somehow the sun seemed brighter than it was when he entered the building. Maybe it was the difference in time, or just that his eyes had gotten used to the dim lighting of the café, but Brendon found it almost blinding. He glanced at Ryan, with his arms swinging and the tips of his hair glowing orange and blowing, and it seemed to get even brighter.
They walked slowly, aimlessly, silently. Brendon’s camera bounced against his chest.
He looked down at it, at the light reflecting off the slightly scratched metal, and his hands itched. He curled his fingers around the side.
Ryan’s tongue darted out, licked his lips. Yet another reflective surface.
Brendon raised the camera, thinking that he didn’t have to stay the same, the same as he’d always been. He didn’t have to sit at his house with his pictures of fish. Because now, now he had the real thing. Because of Ryan, he had a real fish instead of just photos, and he thought why not and aimed at Ryan’s profile. Click.
Ryan turned to face Brendon, chuckling. “Hey,” he said with faux indignation and Brendon grinned. He snapped another photo.
Ryan reached for the camera, laughing now, and said, “Let me see!”
Brendon leaned in, letting Ryan peek at the display. Ryan frowned, not pleased, lower lip stuck out and tried to locate the delete button. Brendon jerked the camera out of his reach.
“Hey now, that’s a good photo!”
Ryan shook his head disbelievingly. “I didn’t even have time to get ready!”
“Okay, now. Get ready. 3…2…1…”
Ryan scowled as Brendon took a third picture. “Give it to me!” he whined, and crowded Brendon, grabbing his shoulder as Brendon held the camera behind his back.
Brendon looked at Ryan’s eyes and thought, why shouldn’t I wonder? Why should I let this be just another chance slipped by?
Ryan caught hold of his arm and yanked the camera up to eye level. Brendon hardly resisted - the sun in Ryan’s eyelashes was enough to weaken his grip - and in this moment, he couldn’t find a reason. He couldn’t find a reason not to, so he leaned in and pressed his mouth to Ryan’s.
Ryan’s hand stopped tugging and his eyes closed and Brendon’s finger came down on the shutter.
Click.