Hallelujah (just off the key of reason) [16]
Title: Hallelujah (just off the key of reason) [16]
Author: minus_four
Rating: R
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
POV: 3rd
Summary: Priestfic AU. Brendon's a few years older than Ryan. The first thing Ryan did when he woke up was smile as his eyes opened slowly, the sideways view of Brendon’s room drifting into focus while everything else kind of settled in Ryan’s head and he tried to figure out if what he remembered the previous night to be was a dream.
Disclaimer: Not even close to real. I think that's apparent from the subject matter lol
Author's Notes: Major apologies for my faily lack of updates, but school and rl is kind of eating my brain :/ I'll try harder next time lol.
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The first thing Ryan did when he woke up was smile as his eyes opened slowly, the sideways view of Brendon’s room drifting into focus while everything else kind of settled in Ryan’s head and he tried to figure out if what he remembered the previous night to be was a dream.
It wouldn’t be the first time. After all, Ryan had woken up exactly like this, in Brendon’s bed, one time before, and after that he’d actually dreamt of the same thing sometimes, with a different outcome; that he could stay. That he was safe.
It hadn’t, and hadn’t been able to last before, and those dreams had just been that; just been his not-so-subtle subconscious reminding him of how badly he wanted what he couldn’t have.
This was different though. Instead of this reality he’d wanted so badly fading, everything was gradually getting sharper, clearer, more real as Ryan pushed himself up to sit back against the headboard, realising Brendon wasn’t there as he ran a hand over his face and looked around Brendon’s room. Everything was still there, and he was still there, Ryan could tell because on making a quick mental examination of himself and glancing down to confirm, the bruising on his side was still there accompanied by that persistent ache as he just breathed in and out. It wasn’t so bad though, especially when Ryan remembered what memory his injury also meant was real and that the slight ache somewhere else also verified; him and Brendon, together, connected like that, and Ryan couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so safe.
In the back of his mind Ryan could feel himself reacting to that, bracing for the inevitable let down because nothing had ever lasted before, it had all been fleeting feelings of safety that always got shattered somehow, eventually. But when Ryan forced himself to turn his focus to Brendon, to everything Brendon was and everything he’d done for him and promised to do (I’m going to take care of you, the words echoed in Ryan’s thoughts), it suddenly got a lot easier to push those doubts away and Ryan smiled to himself, just because.
“Looks like a good morning, then.”
Ryan looked up and slightly to right, prompted by Brendon’s voice coming from where he was stood in the doorway, a steaming mug in each hand.
“It is,” Ryan said, his smile getting a little bigger as Brendon returned it, the other male walking over and carefully getting onto the bed before crawling on his knees up to the headboard, his gaze fixed on the mugs and the coffee he was trying not to spill as he moved. “This one mine?” he asked, already reaching to take the white coffee as Brendon nodded in response before turning around and sitting against the headboard like he was.
“I was going to do the whole breakfast in bed thing too, but I figured I should take your order first,” Brendon said, glancing at his watch. “And… we don’t actually have a whole lot of time,” he added, frowning. “We’ve still got… and I need to change into my…” Brendon trailed off awkwardly, lifting his coffee to his mouth to take a couple of sips as he winced inwardly.
“Hey.” Ryan nudged Brendon’s t shirt clothed shoulder with his bare one, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his mug on top of them. “You can say the words you know,” he said, teasing ever so gently. “I know it’s Sunday, we’ve got church, and you especially because you’re preaching. Nothing’s changed there.”
“Some things have changed though,” Brendon reminded him, smiling as he turned his body slightly, leaning over to press his lips to Ryan’s cheek, then quickly kissing his nose and making Ryan laugh a little.
“Yeah,” Ryan agreed, giving Brendon a smile even as his words became a little more serious. “But you are still…” Ryan didn’t bother to fill in the gap. They both knew what Brendon was, and what that meant for them. “And we need to be… careful,” Ryan settled on.
“It’s not like everyone’s going to just know,” Brendon laughed a little, but it faded quickly as he took in the way Ryan was staring into his mug of coffee now. “I’m sorry we have to hide everything.”
“It’s not your fault,” Ryan said straight away, looking up to meet Brendon’s gaze and shaking his head. “I’m just worried about you, if -”
“Well, don’t,” Brendon cut him off, trying to put as much reassurance into his voice as he could, reaching over with his free hand to stroke his index finger down Ryan’s bare shoulder, down to his forearm. “I don’t want you to worry about anything,” he said softly, the two of them just looking at each other for a few seconds, Brendon suddenly wanting to lose himself in it, in his connection with Ryan, so strong already despite how new it all was. “So, cereal?” Brendon forced himself to say the words, changing his tone and breaking the moment he’d felt himself being pulled into before.
“Sure,” Ryan shrugged, “but I don’t usually eat breakfast.”
“Not hugely surprised by that,” Brendon told him, looking at Ryan’s skinny body which wasn’t even covered by a t shirt and hoodie like it usually was. Really, Brendon wouldn’t have been surprised if Ryan didn’t always eat dinner either, maybe because he’d rather stay in his room than - No. Brendon stopped himself from taking that train of thought, not because it wasn’t likely to be true, but because dwelling on that stuff wasn’t going to help anything.
“Thanks for the coffee,” Ryan said, catching Brendon’s attention again as he put his pretty much empty mug on the bedside table before swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress and getting up, Brendon not really able to keep himself from staring at the sight of him still dressed only in boxers as Ryan stretched his arms up over his head. Ryan smiled as he turned around to catch Brendon looking. Not that he shouldn’t have been; Ryan just liked it. “Is it okay if I take a shower?” Brendon just gave him a look. “I… I’m going to take a shower,” Ryan corrected himself, and Brendon nodded approvingly, grinning.
“There’s a couple of clean towels stacked in the corner.” As he spoke Brendon got up himself, walking around the bed to meet Ryan at the foot of it and quickly pressing his lips to Ryan’s temple in a kind of easy intimacy which almost meant as much to Ryan as what they’d done the night before; just the closeness it showed in such a simple gesture.
“You could always come with me.” Ryan smirked, raising one eyebrow a little as he closed the fingers of one hand around Brendon’s wrist on the arm which wasn’t still holding the coffee, keeping him where he was so Ryan could give him his own kiss, a short one on the lips this time, and… yeah, Ryan really wasn’t going to get tired of being able to do that anytime soon.
“Wasn’t I supposed to be going downstairs and making breakfast?”
“I don’t think pouring cereal counts as ‘making breakfast’.”
“Huh.” Brendon nodded. “Well I didn’t want to be the wife anyway.”
“Uh… what?” Ryan laughed. “And you do remember last night, right?”
“I do,” Brendon said, smiling before putting on an exaggerated ‘thinking’ expression for a second. “Maybe neither of us has to be the wife.”
“Pretty much what I was thinking, yeah,” Ryan laughed again, shaking his head. “You’re kind of ridiculous, you know.”
Brendon pffted in response. “You love it.”
Before Ryan could answer Brendon just gave him another quick kiss before walking out of the room and down the stairs.
And yeah, okay, Ryan could really, seriously get used to this.
As it turned out, Ryan had been in the shower for maybe all of two minutes when Brendon stepped in behind him, reaching up one hand to touch Ryan’s shoulder and just about making the other male jump out of his skin.
Ryan spun around quickly, rubbing water out of his eyes with the heel of his palm and pushing his wet bangs off his face, blinking at Brendon before glaring.
“Ass.” Even as he gave Brendon a light shove Ryan couldn’t help but mirror the laughter on Brendon’s features as he moved back a little to make more room for Brendon under the spray. “What was that about?”
“I’m saving water?” Brendon said, and Ryan just rolled his eyes before they automatically flicked downwards to look at Brendon's body. Echoing the action, Brendon looked down at Ryan's body, something clenching in his chest as he took in the bruising which still coloured Ryan's side.
“Uh huh. Sure,” Ryan said without any inflection to the words at all, just looking at Brendon a couple more seconds before he raised both hands, pressing them flat against Brendon’s chest, his thumbs stroking back and forth across Brendon’s now-wet skin.
Before Brendon could say anything in reply, Ryan had stepped forward, removing any remaining space between them as he pressed Brendon back against the tiled wall of the shower before immediately pressing his lips against Brendon’s in a kiss which quickly deepened. Caught by surprise slightly, Brendon let Ryan keep his control over their kiss, registering in the back of his mind even as he unconsciously raised a hand to cup around the back of Ryan’s head how it was different, though a good different, for Ryan to take the lead like that.
Not that Brendon was complaining, not when Ryan’s body was pressed flush against his own and he could feel the ridges of Ryan’s hips as Ryan shifted against him and Brendon became suddenly hyperaware of the fact that they were both very, and completely, naked. Obviously he’d known before, but now there was pretty much no room for anything else in his brain, except maybe… that.
“Ry…” Brendon pressed a hand against Ryan’s shoulder, prompting him to shift back slightly and break their kiss. “We don’t really have time. I mean, we’ve got - you know,” Brendon said awkwardly, the word church hanging unspoken in the following silence otherwise filled only by the sound of the shower and the spray hitting the walls around them.
“We’ve got a little time,” Ryan replied, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
Brendon just stared at Ryan for a couple of seconds, took in the way he looked right then; his hair looking darker than usual soaked with water, laying flat but tousled, his cheeks slightly flushed from the heat of the water and his eyes wide as they looked right back into Brendon’s, traces of eyeliner still smudged around them. He smiled.
“What?” Ryan asked, frowning slightly.
“Just… you,” Brendon said, shrugging a little before he reached up to stroke his thumb gently under Ryan’s eye, wiping away a little of the eyeliner.
“And you.” Ryan smiled, lifting his own hand to stroke the flat of his palm and fingers over Brendon’s shoulder, down the smooth skin of the length of his back, Ryan’s knuckles grazing lightly against the tiled wall behind Brendon as his hand came to rest just at the top of Brendon’s ass.
It was bizarre still, only in the most awesome of ways, that Ryan was doing this, that he was able to do this. The trouble was though, that however much he and Brendon had been able to do it still wasn’t enough for him; the more Ryan touched Brendon, the more he wanted to touch him. Ryan wanted more, wanted to be able to connect to Brendon more all the time, and no matter what day it was he had the idea in his head now, the desire starting to stir somewhere deep in his stomach as want slowly progressed somehow into need in Ryan’s mind.
Before even consciously thinking it through Ryan was already dropping to his knees in front of Brendon, the feeling of his knees hitting the shower floor pretty hard lost in the realisation of what was right in front of him then; Brendon already getting hard despite his earlier protests, however half hearted they were.
Ryan felt a jolt of nerves though as he took a deep breath. He’d never done this before, but he could definitely remember what had felt good last night when Brendon was doing it for him and Ryan just thought about that for a few seconds as he tentatively curled his right hand around Brendon’s cock, pumping his fist slowly up and down the length a couple of times.
“Ryan,” Brendon choked out his name, some attempt at protest pretty much completely masked by the fact that the contact obviously felt good as Brendon clutched at his shoulder, the older man then hissing out a “Fuck” as Ryan swiped his thumb over the head of Brendon’s quickly hardening erection, smiling to himself as Brendon’s hips bucked into the contact.
Ryan’s nerves settled a little then, because he suddenly realised just how much he wanted to do this, not just for the sake of doing it, but for Brendon, to give this back to him, to just… Ryan couldn’t really explain it exactly, even to himself. All he knew was that he wanted this, and they were here, now, together, and it just felt so right to Ryan no matter the lingering sense of no-shouldn’t-can’t which still wavered right in the back of his mind.
Pushing all of that away except the here and now, Ryan took another deep breath before leaning forward and closing his lips around the head of Brendon’s cock. At first Ryan’s actions were experimental, just sucking on the head before Ryan bobbed his head just a little, playing around with the combination of moving his lips up and down and starting to bring his tongue into it too, tracing the tip up the few inches and swiping it across the head, remembering when Brendon had done, how it had made him -
“Ngh,” Brendon grunted out the sound as his hips jutted forward just slightly before he caught himself. His hand which had been gripping at Ryan’s shoulder found its way to tangle in Ryan’s wet hair, resting at the back of his head but not pushing just… holding, his thumb stroking back and forth in encouraging movements because as much as Brendon might not have been completely convinced before, he sure as fuck was now. “Ryan…” Brendon groaned, the noise more of a low rumble in the back of his throat which was almost lost in the sound of the shower still running.
Ryan was lost in the sensations; the hot water hitting him, running down over his head and body, and Brendon’s cock, thick and laying heavily in his mouth as Ryan got a little braver and bobbed his head further down Brendon’s cock, testing what he could take as he sucked a bit harder, pleased when Brendon let out a low moan.
His free hand was pressed flat against the wall behind him, Brendon’s fingers curling and almost scrabbling ineffectually at the wet tiles, nails scraping against the grooves as he arched his back. Those weren’t the only muscles that were straining either, Brendon’s legs starting to shake slightly with the effort of tensing his thighs and forcing himself to keep his hips still when all Brendon wanted to do was let them thrust forwards into the heat of Ryan’s mouth and fuck, Brendon almost wanted to laugh as the thought really hit him; Ryan’s mouth on him.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, oh fuck,” the words fell from Brendon’s lips in quick succession, relief registering somehow, under the building feelings of pleasure from the movements of Ryan’s mouth and tongue up and down him in varying patterns and rhythms, when Ryan’s free hand - one still fisted around the base of Brendon’s erection - shifted from his ass to press hard against his hip, pushing him back against the wall.
Brendon looked down then, blinking water out of his eyes as he took in the sight of Ryan on his knees in front of him, sucking him off, and Brendon couldn’t help thinking that something so amazing had to be wrong because life just wasn’t that fair.
This was happening though, really happening - not that there was any doubt as Brendon felt his orgasm quickly building, heat rising and seeming to spread through his body as Ryan started to work his fingers up and down the base of Brendon’s erection before he bobbed his head again, suddenly gagging as he tried to take as much of Brendon into his mouth as he could and he choked a little, pulling back on reflex as he coughed.
Ryan sat back on his heels for a few seconds as he took a couple of breaths before he started to lean forward again, preparing to start sucking Brendon off again only to find Brendon’s hand move from the back of his head to cup the side of his face instead, gently lifting Ryan’s head until he met Brendon’s eyes.
“You don’t need to…” Brendon started, fighting through the haze of Ryan-mouth-want-fuck-need which filled his head just then to focus on words.
“No - I mean, I can,” Ryan said straight away, and Brendon saw embarrassment and doubt in Ryan’s expression; the sense that he had to be good enough, that he had to be enough for Brendon, the older male found himself thinking.
“You can get back up here and kiss me, is what you can do,” Brendon told him, smiling as he hooked his thumb under Ryan’s jaw line and encouraged him to get up from his knees, putting them on a level again.
Before Ryan could say anything Brendon just shifted his hand to rest at the nape of Ryan’s neck to pull him into a kiss whilst curling his other hand around Ryan’s, the younger man’s hand still fisting the base of Brendon’s cock. As they kissed, the movement of their mouths gentle but intimate, Brendon slowly started to move his hand, in turn guiding Ryan to start stroking him, the two of them jerking Brendon off together as their actions became increasingly faster, Brendon setting the pace as his orgasm quickly started to build again.
Less than a minute later Brendon was bucking into Ryan’s fist, hips jerking erratically as he moaned into Ryan’s mouth, legs shaking again as he came, spilling over both their hands.
Brendon slumped back slightly against the wall, breaking their kiss as he took a couple of panting breaths, eyes still closed for a second or two before he opened them to look at Ryan, the other male already smirking as Brendon removed his hand from his now over-sensitive dick, the action then prompting Ryan to do the same.
“Your turn?” Brendon asked, his voice more than a little sleepy as he smiled back at Ryan. His legs were definitely feeling more than a little shaky still, so the prospect of sinking to his knees didn’t sound bad at all just then.
“I think we’re gonna be late if we stay in here too much longer,” Ryan reminded him, still grinning at how Brendon looked; happy and relaxed, and how he’d done that. “Just enough time to clean up,” he added, turning around to grab the soap and starting to run it over Brendon’s chest. “You can do me later.” Ryan smirked and Brendon laughed.
He knew that eventually they were going to have to deal with certain things, that it wasn’t always going to be fun and easy and so good, like this, but for now Brendon just let himself feel it, lose himself a little.
Unfortunately though, there was only so long they could avoid real life in their own little bubble, and it really wasn’t that long at all.
-
It hit Brendon during the service, right while he was standing in front of the whole congregation. He wasn’t even doing anything, just standing next to Father David and assisting with the service, except he was constantly having to watch himself, keep his eyes from automatically finding Ryan among the other people and staying on him, and Brendon could tell Ryan was doing the same, looking away if their eyes ever even locked. Brendon realised then that they were always going to have to watch themselves and the way they acted, so people wouldn’t know and regret suddenly rose in Brendon’s chest because as good and right as it felt to them, surely other people weren’t going to understand… even when Ryan turned eighteen there was still the whole mess of the age gap, the priest thing, on top of the way a lot of people would sometimes react to any two men being together. Even if they were able to come out publicly, Ryan deserved more than the pressure of the inevitable spotlight being with Brendon would always put him in, because they both knew that as much as the church was about love and peace and all that, the people in that community loved a good scandal and Brendon was pretty sure him and Ryan would be the best they’d heard in quite a while.
And would that be so wrong? Brendon silently asked himself, only half paying attention to his duties, though he knew them well enough to carry them out anyway; stand up, sit down, hold that. If it was anyone else Brendon could see it himself, how people might think he was taking advantage of Ryan; of his youth and his situation, and it kind of terrified Brendon to think that maybe, maybe he was even doing that subconsciously, that he wanted Ryan, wanted to be close to him and he’d let it cloud his judgement of what was really right or wrong.
He loved Ryan. The thought suddenly flared in Brendon’s mind so strongly, and it eased the tension which had begun to build in his chest, just a little, because despite his doubts Brendon found it hard to believe that you could love someone like that in the wrong way - it just didn’t make sense. Except… Brendon sighed slightly as the thought rose in his mind before he could stop it; Bryce had been wrong, Bryce had, sort of, loved him in the wrong way, really. And Brendon hadn’t known then, not until it was too late, and he prayed that he hadn’t made the same mistake again.
For Brendon, praying wasn’t like making a phone call, he wasn’t talking to God or something, and God certainly never answered him back in any obvious way. For him praying was more like talking to yourself, meditating in a way, and using your faith to try and figure things out for yourself as best you could. Brendon was tactful about not mentioning such things to certain people, but in truth he really couldn’t see the point of prayer groups sometimes, of a bunch of people getting together to pray for the same thing, because asking for help from God was one thing, but what made so much more sense to Brendon was people getting together to actually do something about it and discuss how they were going to do it, not ask God to do it for them.
So at the end of the service when Brendon had gone to sit in one of the side chapels in the corner furthest from the whole coffee gathering going on, that was what Brendon was doing; praying to try and figure out his own actions and whether the true motivation behind them was really what he felt in his heart.
He was also trying to understand and deal with the feelings of guilt which had been lingering in the back of his mind ever since he and Ryan had kissed, the feeling wavering in strength but always there, weighing on his shoulders.
Sighing, Brendon sat up from where he’d been leaning forward on his knees and opened his eyes only to start slightly when he saw Father David sitting opposite him.
“Shouldn’t you be doing your whole mingling bit?” he asked the older priest, running a hand through his hair as he ran his thoughts through his head, whether he might have muttered anything out loud, specifically anything about Ryan.
“I’ve already met all the visitors and spoken to a few of the regulars,” Father David replied, shrugging his shoulders slightly. Like Brendon, he’d taken off his heavier robes and was just left in his normal shirt and collar. “And you’ve been up here quite a while, Bren. It’s not like you,” he said, concern clear in his voice and on his face as he studied Brendon’s.
Brendon looked away, glancing down the church at where Ryan was standing with Jon and Bill as usual, but crouched down next to Riley’s stroller, Brendon smiled as he noticed, was a man he’d only seen a couple of times but could still recognise from this distance - the identification definitely aided by the brightness of the plaid shirt he was wearing - as Gabe. Brendon’s attention then shifted back to Ryan, the boy laughing as he ducked out of the reach of William’s skinny arm reached up to mess with his faux hawk.
“Is there anything you need to talk about?” Father David’s question prompted Brendon to turn his head back to look at his mentor again, the different possible answers running through Brendon’s mind before he finally settled on one.
“I…” Brendon sighed, looking down at the floor before forcing himself to meet Father David’s eyes again and actually speak. “When things are… complicated, how do you decide between what’s right according to the rules, like society or whatever,” Brendon paused, “and what you know is right, because you… feel it,” he finished quietly, his chest starting to feel tight again as he wondered whether he’d said too much already, or whether it was just written right across his face somehow.
Father David didn’t speak for over half a minute, just seemed to think to himself as Brendon waited, almost nervous as he sat there, still wondering.
“Ethically speaking,” he began, “what’s ‘right’ or ’wrong’ is most often based on whether another person or being will be harmed, physically or otherwise, by those actions. In terms of society…” Father David shook his head slightly, shrugging one shoulder a little, “this changes all the time. Laws are changed or abolished depending on how society evolves, but in terms of us, and our personal decisions, I think it always has to come back to that idea of preventing harm and protecting the good.”
And suddenly the weight on Brendon seemed to lift a little, because that was pretty much the definition of what he was doing for Ryan, part of what their relationship was about aside from just caring.
“You can’t always pay too much attention to society, Bren,” Father David surprised Brendon by speaking again. “You’ll never please everyone, and sometimes what people think they believe is for all the wrong reasons. It’s like the bible,” he went on. “Everything needs to be interpreted by you as to what’s right. Back then people were stoned to death for eating shrimp because small clans of people, living in the desert, weren’t going to be sustainable if they died from food poisoning.” Brendon smiled, breathing out a laugh as he thought about it and it reminded him of his training, when they’d have discussion groups to develop their thinking in this way, of separating out the truth from what had been necessary truths back when the scripture was written.
“And men weren’t going to be impregnating women if they were busy macking on other guys,” Brendon added, grinning as Father David laughed.
“That one too,” he said, nodding, and not for the first time Brendon thanked God that he’d been placed with someone who was so accepting of him - and everyone, really. Brendon had seen Father David talk to pregnant teens, homeless people, addicts, and he talked to them in exactly the same way as he did everyone else, with patience and compassion which Brendon really hoped he’d be able to develop on the same level one day. “I think we might still be in time for coffee, and you must be running low on caffeine,” Father David said, and Brendon nodded, laughing a little. His boss knew him far too well.
-
“So…” Brendon started as he let himself and Ryan back into the house. Thankfully it wasn’t as though Brendon had never given Ryan a ride home before, so they didn’t have to overly careful about that, really. “I was thinking, this afternoon,” he paused, not quite sure how Ryan was going to react, “that we should maybe pick up some of your stuff,” Brendon said tentatively, his heart sinking as Ryan’s features automatically seemed to sadden slightly by association.
“Yeah. Um, yeah, that makes sense.” Ryan nodded. After all, all he had with him just then was what he’d been wearing the day before when he’d come over, his cell, and the eyeliner he kept in his jeans pocket along with his house key - old house key, Ryan supposed it was now.
“Do you know if your dad’s in today?” Brendon asked, almost carefully.
“He… might be,” Ryan said, frowning. “Sometimes he works on a Sunday and sometimes he doesn’t. But… I shouldn’t think he’ll even notice too much,” Ryan shrugged. “I mean, not generally and if he’s not working then he might already be…” Ryan trailed off and left the end of that sentence unsaid. “You know.”
Brendon just said, “Okay,” quietly, reminding himself that he was already doing everything he could to help Ryan just then, even if it still wasn’t quite enough for Brendon. “You want to call Spencer, see if he’ll lend a hand?” Brendon nodded at the phone sitting on the small chest of drawers near the bottom of the stairs.
“Uh…” Ryan began, wincing inwardly as he remembered. “He might not want to speak to me right now,” he confessed, and Brendon just waited for him to carry on as Ryan let out a heavy sigh. “We kind of had a fight, after I went around there and told him about -” Ryan suddenly caught himself, but it was too late.
“Me,” Brendon filled in, and Ryan just confirmed it with a small nod as he leaned back against the wall near the door. “Were you - I mean, were you guys…” Brendon waited to Ryan to provide the rest, but he just sort of stared at Brendon. He knew what Brendon was trying to say, but he didn’t know what to say to it himself. “Together?”
“No,” Ryan said quickly, maybe too quickly given the way Brendon looked at him then. “We weren’t… together,” he said, but Brendon really wanted to ask what Ryan wasn’t saying. He didn’t, though. “I’ll fix it,” he sighed, “but I need a little more time to figure it out, you know?”
“Sure,” Brendon said quietly, having already decided not to push the subject. “So, when do you want to go over?”
“Might as well get it over with.” Ryan’s own voice was quiet as he shrugged, not really trying to fake nonchalance as much as convince himself that it would be okay, that there wasn’t going to be any huge drama or anything. It didn’t really work, though.
-
“You don’t have to come in.”
Ryan was stood at the front door of what used to be his home, hand on the door handle as he turned to look at Brendon, who was stood just behind him with some empty boxes in his arms.
“I don’t have to go into your room if you don’t want me to,” Brendon told him. “I can just carry stuff back to the car when you’ve packed it.”
“It’s not that,” Ryan said quietly, looking down for a second before meeting Brendon’s eyes again. “It’s just - this place, it isn’t too… nice,” he finished almost apologetically.
“Don’t worry about me,” Brendon told him firmly, shaking his head. “I’m with you in this, okay?”
Ryan just nodded, swallowing hard as he turned the key in the lock and opened the door, walking into the lounge area which the front door lead right into.
When Brendon looked around, taking in the living room space and looking through the far door into the part of the kitchen he could see, he understood why Ryan hadn’t really wanted him to see what his home was like, because it wasn’t a home. The place was mostly bare, with a basic sofa and some other furniture, and quite dark with the curtains half drawn across the windows. There weren’t really any of the things Brendon associated with a home; there weren’t any knick knacks and random things a family usually came to collect over the years, no lumpy clay models a six year old Ryan might have made at school, no photos around except a couple of framed pictures of a young woman Brendon thought must have been Ryan’s mother, his heart sinking. That feeling only intensified when he noticed the bottles - in varying degrees of emptiness - which littered the room in lieu of anything else.
Turning around to look at Ryan, his mouth opening to say… quite what, Brendon didn’t really know, but before he could Ryan was shaking his head, lifting the boxes from Brendon’s arms and nodding towards the stairs for Brendon to follow him.
-
They’d already gotten most of what Ryan wanted to take with him down to car already and Ryan was just putting a few more random things in a box, giving it to Brendon and picking up his guitar case, when both of their attentions were caught by the click of the front door opening downstairs and then shutting heavily.
Ryan’s eyes widened as he jumped slightly at the noise, and Brendon could practically see the tension enter his muscles.
“It’ll be okay,” Brendon said quietly, stepping over and pressing his lips to Ryan’s temple, cupping his hand at Ryan’s jaw as he stayed like that for a second or two until he felt Ryan nod against him. Secretly Brendon wasn’t sure that this wouldn’t be better, really, in the long run, with the chance that Ryan’s father could contact the authorities when he noticed Ryan didn’t come home and his stuff was gone.
They went downstairs together, Brendon purposefully going first, and George was standing in the living room taking off his jacket when he turned around, looking confusedly at the two of them as they walked down the last couple of stairs.
“I’m leaving,” Ryan said as firmly as he could, though Brendon heard the slight tremor in his voice and noticed the way Ryan was stood just slightly behind him.
George laughed a little, the noise humourless. “Just like that? After everything I’ve done for -”
“Yes,” Ryan cut him off, voice even stronger. “After everything you’ve done, or haven’t… I’m leaving,” he repeated. Ryan hated that he felt sad about this, that he felt bad for some reason and couldn’t help but search his father’s eyes for some kind of regret, or acknowledgement that this wasn’t some unfounded decision, or even that he just cared at all. And it might have been there, but Ryan never could tell whether it was just wishful thinking, so he pushed those thoughts away.
“Why don’t you go out to the car?” Brendon said softly, turning his head to look at Ryan and taking in the expression on his face, and how clearly this was hurting him, just being in the situation.
Ryan just nodded, hesitating slightly before walking out as he considered speaking to his father again. There wasn’t really any point though, he told himself as he left silently, closing the door behind him with his free hand. There wasn’t anything left to say now, there had been too many years of living in confusion and often fear, Ryan wishing so badly that he could just have that normal family thing, just be cared about, and not being able to understand why he wasn’t. It was too late.
Once Ryan had gone outside Brendon put the small box he was holding down on the floor by his feet, pleased as he noticed George noticing. The older man seemed wary, like he didn’t know what Brendon was going to say or do.
“So, who are you?” George asked him. Brendon had changed out of his shirt and collar, so if he wasn’t familiar with the church Ryan went to then he wouldn’t know Brendon was a priest, and Brendon figured they might as well keep it that way.
“I know Ryan from the church,” Brendon told him, his response technically truthful.
George breathed out another bitter laugh, looking away for a couple of seconds before he said, “I always thought Ryan would leave. Sometime. Sooner, I thought.” George’s words sounded strained, like actually talking about this was really hard for him. Which, Brendon thought to himself, it probably was, especially if he never had, even with Ryan. “Always thought he should,” he admitted, voice growing quieter as Brendon just listened. “Me - I -” George stopped, running his palm over his face. “I never knew how to do this. After his mother -” he paused, Brendon feeling for the man even though he still saw him as that person who had hurt Ryan so much, in more than one way. “I couldn’t even…” he trailed off. “Let alone look after a kid.”
As Brendon just listened George went on with his monologue of sorts, like he was latching onto this chance to confess or something - which was ironic, Brendon realised, given that he didn’t actually know Brendon’s profession.
“It’s no excuse,” Brendon said simply, trying to keep the anger he felt towards this man out of his voice, because he was supposed to have been trained to keep a level head in any situation, but standing in front of George his head automatically ran through the litany of thoughts connected to Ryan and how he deserved better. “There are no excuses for the way you -” Brendon sighed, running his hand through his hair. “No excuses,” he repeated, his voice sounding unnaturally cold and harsh.
George just nodded, the man’s whole frame suddenly seeming smaller somehow, his shoulders sinking as let out a slow breath before raising his eyes to meet Brendon’s again, his gaze darkened and maybe not just because of the dim surroundings they were standing in.
“Do… do you think he’d ever be able to forgive me?” Brendon wasn’t expecting that. With the way Ryan was; the beliefs about himself and the world which Brendon knew were a result of the way he’d grown up, the way he knew George had treated his son on more than one occasion, and generally ignored him the rest of the time, Brendon had formed an idea of the man in his head of someone so bad as to almost seeming inhuman. But George was - human, that is, and it was just so strange for Brendon to be seeing it then, Ryan’s father suddenly seeming so vulnerable. “He shouldn’t.” George stated, breaking Brendon out of his train of thought as he paused, his voice even quieter, more tired sounding when he spoke again, looking down at the carpet near Brendon’s feet. “I know I don’t deserve it…” As he trailed off, Brendon could see that the man was resigned to his words, believed them completely. And really, Brendon couldn’t blame him. If it was him in that situation - though he hoped to God he’d never be able to be - then Brendon didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself.
“God forgives all who truly repent.” The words slipped from Brendon’s mouth almost without him thinking about it, but as angry as Ryan’s father’s behavior made him he still believed those words, the thought passing through his own mind even as George spoke again.
“And how forgiving are you?” he asked Brendon, eyeing the way Brendon’s hands were still curled into fists at his side.
“I’m only human,” Brendon answered him, then making the conscious decision to relax his hands as he glanced around the room, taking in the space which seemed so cold and empty, and Brendon suddenly realised that whether it was self inflicted or not, aspects of George’s life were punishment enough. Brendon then just bent down and picked up the box at his feet before making eye contact with George once more. “But… It’s never too late to change, you know.”
The other man didn’t answer Brendon, just glanced out of the window once more at where Brendon’s car was parked out on the road, at Ryan sat in the passenger seat, staring at his hands in his lap. During those few seconds he seemed to visibly deflate somehow, the sense of it probably more emotional than physical as Brendon looked at him, almost wanting to step back or something when George met his eyes again, his expression so sad, and tired, and just… defeated.
He didn’t speak again, just gave Brendon a nod as he swallowed hard before just walking away and into the kitchen behind him. It said enough, his silence; his acceptance.
After loading the last box into the back of his car Brendon got into the driver’s seat, sighing as he simply reached over and entwined his fingers with Ryan’s in the boy’s lap.
“You okay?” he asked quietly, fairly certain of the answer as he just looked at Ryan, wishing he could just make it okay, and certainly not for the first time since they’d met.
“I think so,” Ryan’s own voice was quiet, almost a whisper really as he just gave Brendon’s fingers a gentle squeeze with his own. “Kind of, anyway,” he shrugged, finally looking up to meet Brendon’s worried gaze.
“Come on,” Brendon said, reluctantly removing his hand from Ryan’s and putting the key in the ignition as he turned his head once more to look at where Ryan had come from, the thought rising in his mind again of what that place had never been for Ryan, but that he could have now. “Let’s go home.”
EDIT: Because I figure you guys'll appreciate it, when I was helping paint a house on Saturday I also did this (and miiiiight have watched the Northern Downpour video that morning lol)
Author: minus_four
Rating: R
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon
POV: 3rd
Summary: Priestfic AU. Brendon's a few years older than Ryan. The first thing Ryan did when he woke up was smile as his eyes opened slowly, the sideways view of Brendon’s room drifting into focus while everything else kind of settled in Ryan’s head and he tried to figure out if what he remembered the previous night to be was a dream.
Disclaimer: Not even close to real. I think that's apparent from the subject matter lol
Author's Notes: Major apologies for my faily lack of updates, but school and rl is kind of eating my brain :/ I'll try harder next time lol.
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The first thing Ryan did when he woke up was smile as his eyes opened slowly, the sideways view of Brendon’s room drifting into focus while everything else kind of settled in Ryan’s head and he tried to figure out if what he remembered the previous night to be was a dream.
It wouldn’t be the first time. After all, Ryan had woken up exactly like this, in Brendon’s bed, one time before, and after that he’d actually dreamt of the same thing sometimes, with a different outcome; that he could stay. That he was safe.
It hadn’t, and hadn’t been able to last before, and those dreams had just been that; just been his not-so-subtle subconscious reminding him of how badly he wanted what he couldn’t have.
This was different though. Instead of this reality he’d wanted so badly fading, everything was gradually getting sharper, clearer, more real as Ryan pushed himself up to sit back against the headboard, realising Brendon wasn’t there as he ran a hand over his face and looked around Brendon’s room. Everything was still there, and he was still there, Ryan could tell because on making a quick mental examination of himself and glancing down to confirm, the bruising on his side was still there accompanied by that persistent ache as he just breathed in and out. It wasn’t so bad though, especially when Ryan remembered what memory his injury also meant was real and that the slight ache somewhere else also verified; him and Brendon, together, connected like that, and Ryan couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so safe.
In the back of his mind Ryan could feel himself reacting to that, bracing for the inevitable let down because nothing had ever lasted before, it had all been fleeting feelings of safety that always got shattered somehow, eventually. But when Ryan forced himself to turn his focus to Brendon, to everything Brendon was and everything he’d done for him and promised to do (I’m going to take care of you, the words echoed in Ryan’s thoughts), it suddenly got a lot easier to push those doubts away and Ryan smiled to himself, just because.
“Looks like a good morning, then.”
Ryan looked up and slightly to right, prompted by Brendon’s voice coming from where he was stood in the doorway, a steaming mug in each hand.
“It is,” Ryan said, his smile getting a little bigger as Brendon returned it, the other male walking over and carefully getting onto the bed before crawling on his knees up to the headboard, his gaze fixed on the mugs and the coffee he was trying not to spill as he moved. “This one mine?” he asked, already reaching to take the white coffee as Brendon nodded in response before turning around and sitting against the headboard like he was.
“I was going to do the whole breakfast in bed thing too, but I figured I should take your order first,” Brendon said, glancing at his watch. “And… we don’t actually have a whole lot of time,” he added, frowning. “We’ve still got… and I need to change into my…” Brendon trailed off awkwardly, lifting his coffee to his mouth to take a couple of sips as he winced inwardly.
“Hey.” Ryan nudged Brendon’s t shirt clothed shoulder with his bare one, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his mug on top of them. “You can say the words you know,” he said, teasing ever so gently. “I know it’s Sunday, we’ve got church, and you especially because you’re preaching. Nothing’s changed there.”
“Some things have changed though,” Brendon reminded him, smiling as he turned his body slightly, leaning over to press his lips to Ryan’s cheek, then quickly kissing his nose and making Ryan laugh a little.
“Yeah,” Ryan agreed, giving Brendon a smile even as his words became a little more serious. “But you are still…” Ryan didn’t bother to fill in the gap. They both knew what Brendon was, and what that meant for them. “And we need to be… careful,” Ryan settled on.
“It’s not like everyone’s going to just know,” Brendon laughed a little, but it faded quickly as he took in the way Ryan was staring into his mug of coffee now. “I’m sorry we have to hide everything.”
“It’s not your fault,” Ryan said straight away, looking up to meet Brendon’s gaze and shaking his head. “I’m just worried about you, if -”
“Well, don’t,” Brendon cut him off, trying to put as much reassurance into his voice as he could, reaching over with his free hand to stroke his index finger down Ryan’s bare shoulder, down to his forearm. “I don’t want you to worry about anything,” he said softly, the two of them just looking at each other for a few seconds, Brendon suddenly wanting to lose himself in it, in his connection with Ryan, so strong already despite how new it all was. “So, cereal?” Brendon forced himself to say the words, changing his tone and breaking the moment he’d felt himself being pulled into before.
“Sure,” Ryan shrugged, “but I don’t usually eat breakfast.”
“Not hugely surprised by that,” Brendon told him, looking at Ryan’s skinny body which wasn’t even covered by a t shirt and hoodie like it usually was. Really, Brendon wouldn’t have been surprised if Ryan didn’t always eat dinner either, maybe because he’d rather stay in his room than - No. Brendon stopped himself from taking that train of thought, not because it wasn’t likely to be true, but because dwelling on that stuff wasn’t going to help anything.
“Thanks for the coffee,” Ryan said, catching Brendon’s attention again as he put his pretty much empty mug on the bedside table before swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress and getting up, Brendon not really able to keep himself from staring at the sight of him still dressed only in boxers as Ryan stretched his arms up over his head. Ryan smiled as he turned around to catch Brendon looking. Not that he shouldn’t have been; Ryan just liked it. “Is it okay if I take a shower?” Brendon just gave him a look. “I… I’m going to take a shower,” Ryan corrected himself, and Brendon nodded approvingly, grinning.
“There’s a couple of clean towels stacked in the corner.” As he spoke Brendon got up himself, walking around the bed to meet Ryan at the foot of it and quickly pressing his lips to Ryan’s temple in a kind of easy intimacy which almost meant as much to Ryan as what they’d done the night before; just the closeness it showed in such a simple gesture.
“You could always come with me.” Ryan smirked, raising one eyebrow a little as he closed the fingers of one hand around Brendon’s wrist on the arm which wasn’t still holding the coffee, keeping him where he was so Ryan could give him his own kiss, a short one on the lips this time, and… yeah, Ryan really wasn’t going to get tired of being able to do that anytime soon.
“Wasn’t I supposed to be going downstairs and making breakfast?”
“I don’t think pouring cereal counts as ‘making breakfast’.”
“Huh.” Brendon nodded. “Well I didn’t want to be the wife anyway.”
“Uh… what?” Ryan laughed. “And you do remember last night, right?”
“I do,” Brendon said, smiling before putting on an exaggerated ‘thinking’ expression for a second. “Maybe neither of us has to be the wife.”
“Pretty much what I was thinking, yeah,” Ryan laughed again, shaking his head. “You’re kind of ridiculous, you know.”
Brendon pffted in response. “You love it.”
Before Ryan could answer Brendon just gave him another quick kiss before walking out of the room and down the stairs.
And yeah, okay, Ryan could really, seriously get used to this.
As it turned out, Ryan had been in the shower for maybe all of two minutes when Brendon stepped in behind him, reaching up one hand to touch Ryan’s shoulder and just about making the other male jump out of his skin.
Ryan spun around quickly, rubbing water out of his eyes with the heel of his palm and pushing his wet bangs off his face, blinking at Brendon before glaring.
“Ass.” Even as he gave Brendon a light shove Ryan couldn’t help but mirror the laughter on Brendon’s features as he moved back a little to make more room for Brendon under the spray. “What was that about?”
“I’m saving water?” Brendon said, and Ryan just rolled his eyes before they automatically flicked downwards to look at Brendon's body. Echoing the action, Brendon looked down at Ryan's body, something clenching in his chest as he took in the bruising which still coloured Ryan's side.
“Uh huh. Sure,” Ryan said without any inflection to the words at all, just looking at Brendon a couple more seconds before he raised both hands, pressing them flat against Brendon’s chest, his thumbs stroking back and forth across Brendon’s now-wet skin.
Before Brendon could say anything in reply, Ryan had stepped forward, removing any remaining space between them as he pressed Brendon back against the tiled wall of the shower before immediately pressing his lips against Brendon’s in a kiss which quickly deepened. Caught by surprise slightly, Brendon let Ryan keep his control over their kiss, registering in the back of his mind even as he unconsciously raised a hand to cup around the back of Ryan’s head how it was different, though a good different, for Ryan to take the lead like that.
Not that Brendon was complaining, not when Ryan’s body was pressed flush against his own and he could feel the ridges of Ryan’s hips as Ryan shifted against him and Brendon became suddenly hyperaware of the fact that they were both very, and completely, naked. Obviously he’d known before, but now there was pretty much no room for anything else in his brain, except maybe… that.
“Ry…” Brendon pressed a hand against Ryan’s shoulder, prompting him to shift back slightly and break their kiss. “We don’t really have time. I mean, we’ve got - you know,” Brendon said awkwardly, the word church hanging unspoken in the following silence otherwise filled only by the sound of the shower and the spray hitting the walls around them.
“We’ve got a little time,” Ryan replied, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
Brendon just stared at Ryan for a couple of seconds, took in the way he looked right then; his hair looking darker than usual soaked with water, laying flat but tousled, his cheeks slightly flushed from the heat of the water and his eyes wide as they looked right back into Brendon’s, traces of eyeliner still smudged around them. He smiled.
“What?” Ryan asked, frowning slightly.
“Just… you,” Brendon said, shrugging a little before he reached up to stroke his thumb gently under Ryan’s eye, wiping away a little of the eyeliner.
“And you.” Ryan smiled, lifting his own hand to stroke the flat of his palm and fingers over Brendon’s shoulder, down the smooth skin of the length of his back, Ryan’s knuckles grazing lightly against the tiled wall behind Brendon as his hand came to rest just at the top of Brendon’s ass.
It was bizarre still, only in the most awesome of ways, that Ryan was doing this, that he was able to do this. The trouble was though, that however much he and Brendon had been able to do it still wasn’t enough for him; the more Ryan touched Brendon, the more he wanted to touch him. Ryan wanted more, wanted to be able to connect to Brendon more all the time, and no matter what day it was he had the idea in his head now, the desire starting to stir somewhere deep in his stomach as want slowly progressed somehow into need in Ryan’s mind.
Before even consciously thinking it through Ryan was already dropping to his knees in front of Brendon, the feeling of his knees hitting the shower floor pretty hard lost in the realisation of what was right in front of him then; Brendon already getting hard despite his earlier protests, however half hearted they were.
Ryan felt a jolt of nerves though as he took a deep breath. He’d never done this before, but he could definitely remember what had felt good last night when Brendon was doing it for him and Ryan just thought about that for a few seconds as he tentatively curled his right hand around Brendon’s cock, pumping his fist slowly up and down the length a couple of times.
“Ryan,” Brendon choked out his name, some attempt at protest pretty much completely masked by the fact that the contact obviously felt good as Brendon clutched at his shoulder, the older man then hissing out a “Fuck” as Ryan swiped his thumb over the head of Brendon’s quickly hardening erection, smiling to himself as Brendon’s hips bucked into the contact.
Ryan’s nerves settled a little then, because he suddenly realised just how much he wanted to do this, not just for the sake of doing it, but for Brendon, to give this back to him, to just… Ryan couldn’t really explain it exactly, even to himself. All he knew was that he wanted this, and they were here, now, together, and it just felt so right to Ryan no matter the lingering sense of no-shouldn’t-can’t which still wavered right in the back of his mind.
Pushing all of that away except the here and now, Ryan took another deep breath before leaning forward and closing his lips around the head of Brendon’s cock. At first Ryan’s actions were experimental, just sucking on the head before Ryan bobbed his head just a little, playing around with the combination of moving his lips up and down and starting to bring his tongue into it too, tracing the tip up the few inches and swiping it across the head, remembering when Brendon had done, how it had made him -
“Ngh,” Brendon grunted out the sound as his hips jutted forward just slightly before he caught himself. His hand which had been gripping at Ryan’s shoulder found its way to tangle in Ryan’s wet hair, resting at the back of his head but not pushing just… holding, his thumb stroking back and forth in encouraging movements because as much as Brendon might not have been completely convinced before, he sure as fuck was now. “Ryan…” Brendon groaned, the noise more of a low rumble in the back of his throat which was almost lost in the sound of the shower still running.
Ryan was lost in the sensations; the hot water hitting him, running down over his head and body, and Brendon’s cock, thick and laying heavily in his mouth as Ryan got a little braver and bobbed his head further down Brendon’s cock, testing what he could take as he sucked a bit harder, pleased when Brendon let out a low moan.
His free hand was pressed flat against the wall behind him, Brendon’s fingers curling and almost scrabbling ineffectually at the wet tiles, nails scraping against the grooves as he arched his back. Those weren’t the only muscles that were straining either, Brendon’s legs starting to shake slightly with the effort of tensing his thighs and forcing himself to keep his hips still when all Brendon wanted to do was let them thrust forwards into the heat of Ryan’s mouth and fuck, Brendon almost wanted to laugh as the thought really hit him; Ryan’s mouth on him.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, oh fuck,” the words fell from Brendon’s lips in quick succession, relief registering somehow, under the building feelings of pleasure from the movements of Ryan’s mouth and tongue up and down him in varying patterns and rhythms, when Ryan’s free hand - one still fisted around the base of Brendon’s erection - shifted from his ass to press hard against his hip, pushing him back against the wall.
Brendon looked down then, blinking water out of his eyes as he took in the sight of Ryan on his knees in front of him, sucking him off, and Brendon couldn’t help thinking that something so amazing had to be wrong because life just wasn’t that fair.
This was happening though, really happening - not that there was any doubt as Brendon felt his orgasm quickly building, heat rising and seeming to spread through his body as Ryan started to work his fingers up and down the base of Brendon’s erection before he bobbed his head again, suddenly gagging as he tried to take as much of Brendon into his mouth as he could and he choked a little, pulling back on reflex as he coughed.
Ryan sat back on his heels for a few seconds as he took a couple of breaths before he started to lean forward again, preparing to start sucking Brendon off again only to find Brendon’s hand move from the back of his head to cup the side of his face instead, gently lifting Ryan’s head until he met Brendon’s eyes.
“You don’t need to…” Brendon started, fighting through the haze of Ryan-mouth-want-fuck-need which filled his head just then to focus on words.
“No - I mean, I can,” Ryan said straight away, and Brendon saw embarrassment and doubt in Ryan’s expression; the sense that he had to be good enough, that he had to be enough for Brendon, the older male found himself thinking.
“You can get back up here and kiss me, is what you can do,” Brendon told him, smiling as he hooked his thumb under Ryan’s jaw line and encouraged him to get up from his knees, putting them on a level again.
Before Ryan could say anything Brendon just shifted his hand to rest at the nape of Ryan’s neck to pull him into a kiss whilst curling his other hand around Ryan’s, the younger man’s hand still fisting the base of Brendon’s cock. As they kissed, the movement of their mouths gentle but intimate, Brendon slowly started to move his hand, in turn guiding Ryan to start stroking him, the two of them jerking Brendon off together as their actions became increasingly faster, Brendon setting the pace as his orgasm quickly started to build again.
Less than a minute later Brendon was bucking into Ryan’s fist, hips jerking erratically as he moaned into Ryan’s mouth, legs shaking again as he came, spilling over both their hands.
Brendon slumped back slightly against the wall, breaking their kiss as he took a couple of panting breaths, eyes still closed for a second or two before he opened them to look at Ryan, the other male already smirking as Brendon removed his hand from his now over-sensitive dick, the action then prompting Ryan to do the same.
“Your turn?” Brendon asked, his voice more than a little sleepy as he smiled back at Ryan. His legs were definitely feeling more than a little shaky still, so the prospect of sinking to his knees didn’t sound bad at all just then.
“I think we’re gonna be late if we stay in here too much longer,” Ryan reminded him, still grinning at how Brendon looked; happy and relaxed, and how he’d done that. “Just enough time to clean up,” he added, turning around to grab the soap and starting to run it over Brendon’s chest. “You can do me later.” Ryan smirked and Brendon laughed.
He knew that eventually they were going to have to deal with certain things, that it wasn’t always going to be fun and easy and so good, like this, but for now Brendon just let himself feel it, lose himself a little.
Unfortunately though, there was only so long they could avoid real life in their own little bubble, and it really wasn’t that long at all.
-
It hit Brendon during the service, right while he was standing in front of the whole congregation. He wasn’t even doing anything, just standing next to Father David and assisting with the service, except he was constantly having to watch himself, keep his eyes from automatically finding Ryan among the other people and staying on him, and Brendon could tell Ryan was doing the same, looking away if their eyes ever even locked. Brendon realised then that they were always going to have to watch themselves and the way they acted, so people wouldn’t know and regret suddenly rose in Brendon’s chest because as good and right as it felt to them, surely other people weren’t going to understand… even when Ryan turned eighteen there was still the whole mess of the age gap, the priest thing, on top of the way a lot of people would sometimes react to any two men being together. Even if they were able to come out publicly, Ryan deserved more than the pressure of the inevitable spotlight being with Brendon would always put him in, because they both knew that as much as the church was about love and peace and all that, the people in that community loved a good scandal and Brendon was pretty sure him and Ryan would be the best they’d heard in quite a while.
And would that be so wrong? Brendon silently asked himself, only half paying attention to his duties, though he knew them well enough to carry them out anyway; stand up, sit down, hold that. If it was anyone else Brendon could see it himself, how people might think he was taking advantage of Ryan; of his youth and his situation, and it kind of terrified Brendon to think that maybe, maybe he was even doing that subconsciously, that he wanted Ryan, wanted to be close to him and he’d let it cloud his judgement of what was really right or wrong.
He loved Ryan. The thought suddenly flared in Brendon’s mind so strongly, and it eased the tension which had begun to build in his chest, just a little, because despite his doubts Brendon found it hard to believe that you could love someone like that in the wrong way - it just didn’t make sense. Except… Brendon sighed slightly as the thought rose in his mind before he could stop it; Bryce had been wrong, Bryce had, sort of, loved him in the wrong way, really. And Brendon hadn’t known then, not until it was too late, and he prayed that he hadn’t made the same mistake again.
For Brendon, praying wasn’t like making a phone call, he wasn’t talking to God or something, and God certainly never answered him back in any obvious way. For him praying was more like talking to yourself, meditating in a way, and using your faith to try and figure things out for yourself as best you could. Brendon was tactful about not mentioning such things to certain people, but in truth he really couldn’t see the point of prayer groups sometimes, of a bunch of people getting together to pray for the same thing, because asking for help from God was one thing, but what made so much more sense to Brendon was people getting together to actually do something about it and discuss how they were going to do it, not ask God to do it for them.
So at the end of the service when Brendon had gone to sit in one of the side chapels in the corner furthest from the whole coffee gathering going on, that was what Brendon was doing; praying to try and figure out his own actions and whether the true motivation behind them was really what he felt in his heart.
He was also trying to understand and deal with the feelings of guilt which had been lingering in the back of his mind ever since he and Ryan had kissed, the feeling wavering in strength but always there, weighing on his shoulders.
Sighing, Brendon sat up from where he’d been leaning forward on his knees and opened his eyes only to start slightly when he saw Father David sitting opposite him.
“Shouldn’t you be doing your whole mingling bit?” he asked the older priest, running a hand through his hair as he ran his thoughts through his head, whether he might have muttered anything out loud, specifically anything about Ryan.
“I’ve already met all the visitors and spoken to a few of the regulars,” Father David replied, shrugging his shoulders slightly. Like Brendon, he’d taken off his heavier robes and was just left in his normal shirt and collar. “And you’ve been up here quite a while, Bren. It’s not like you,” he said, concern clear in his voice and on his face as he studied Brendon’s.
Brendon looked away, glancing down the church at where Ryan was standing with Jon and Bill as usual, but crouched down next to Riley’s stroller, Brendon smiled as he noticed, was a man he’d only seen a couple of times but could still recognise from this distance - the identification definitely aided by the brightness of the plaid shirt he was wearing - as Gabe. Brendon’s attention then shifted back to Ryan, the boy laughing as he ducked out of the reach of William’s skinny arm reached up to mess with his faux hawk.
“Is there anything you need to talk about?” Father David’s question prompted Brendon to turn his head back to look at his mentor again, the different possible answers running through Brendon’s mind before he finally settled on one.
“I…” Brendon sighed, looking down at the floor before forcing himself to meet Father David’s eyes again and actually speak. “When things are… complicated, how do you decide between what’s right according to the rules, like society or whatever,” Brendon paused, “and what you know is right, because you… feel it,” he finished quietly, his chest starting to feel tight again as he wondered whether he’d said too much already, or whether it was just written right across his face somehow.
Father David didn’t speak for over half a minute, just seemed to think to himself as Brendon waited, almost nervous as he sat there, still wondering.
“Ethically speaking,” he began, “what’s ‘right’ or ’wrong’ is most often based on whether another person or being will be harmed, physically or otherwise, by those actions. In terms of society…” Father David shook his head slightly, shrugging one shoulder a little, “this changes all the time. Laws are changed or abolished depending on how society evolves, but in terms of us, and our personal decisions, I think it always has to come back to that idea of preventing harm and protecting the good.”
And suddenly the weight on Brendon seemed to lift a little, because that was pretty much the definition of what he was doing for Ryan, part of what their relationship was about aside from just caring.
“You can’t always pay too much attention to society, Bren,” Father David surprised Brendon by speaking again. “You’ll never please everyone, and sometimes what people think they believe is for all the wrong reasons. It’s like the bible,” he went on. “Everything needs to be interpreted by you as to what’s right. Back then people were stoned to death for eating shrimp because small clans of people, living in the desert, weren’t going to be sustainable if they died from food poisoning.” Brendon smiled, breathing out a laugh as he thought about it and it reminded him of his training, when they’d have discussion groups to develop their thinking in this way, of separating out the truth from what had been necessary truths back when the scripture was written.
“And men weren’t going to be impregnating women if they were busy macking on other guys,” Brendon added, grinning as Father David laughed.
“That one too,” he said, nodding, and not for the first time Brendon thanked God that he’d been placed with someone who was so accepting of him - and everyone, really. Brendon had seen Father David talk to pregnant teens, homeless people, addicts, and he talked to them in exactly the same way as he did everyone else, with patience and compassion which Brendon really hoped he’d be able to develop on the same level one day. “I think we might still be in time for coffee, and you must be running low on caffeine,” Father David said, and Brendon nodded, laughing a little. His boss knew him far too well.
-
“So…” Brendon started as he let himself and Ryan back into the house. Thankfully it wasn’t as though Brendon had never given Ryan a ride home before, so they didn’t have to overly careful about that, really. “I was thinking, this afternoon,” he paused, not quite sure how Ryan was going to react, “that we should maybe pick up some of your stuff,” Brendon said tentatively, his heart sinking as Ryan’s features automatically seemed to sadden slightly by association.
“Yeah. Um, yeah, that makes sense.” Ryan nodded. After all, all he had with him just then was what he’d been wearing the day before when he’d come over, his cell, and the eyeliner he kept in his jeans pocket along with his house key - old house key, Ryan supposed it was now.
“Do you know if your dad’s in today?” Brendon asked, almost carefully.
“He… might be,” Ryan said, frowning. “Sometimes he works on a Sunday and sometimes he doesn’t. But… I shouldn’t think he’ll even notice too much,” Ryan shrugged. “I mean, not generally and if he’s not working then he might already be…” Ryan trailed off and left the end of that sentence unsaid. “You know.”
Brendon just said, “Okay,” quietly, reminding himself that he was already doing everything he could to help Ryan just then, even if it still wasn’t quite enough for Brendon. “You want to call Spencer, see if he’ll lend a hand?” Brendon nodded at the phone sitting on the small chest of drawers near the bottom of the stairs.
“Uh…” Ryan began, wincing inwardly as he remembered. “He might not want to speak to me right now,” he confessed, and Brendon just waited for him to carry on as Ryan let out a heavy sigh. “We kind of had a fight, after I went around there and told him about -” Ryan suddenly caught himself, but it was too late.
“Me,” Brendon filled in, and Ryan just confirmed it with a small nod as he leaned back against the wall near the door. “Were you - I mean, were you guys…” Brendon waited to Ryan to provide the rest, but he just sort of stared at Brendon. He knew what Brendon was trying to say, but he didn’t know what to say to it himself. “Together?”
“No,” Ryan said quickly, maybe too quickly given the way Brendon looked at him then. “We weren’t… together,” he said, but Brendon really wanted to ask what Ryan wasn’t saying. He didn’t, though. “I’ll fix it,” he sighed, “but I need a little more time to figure it out, you know?”
“Sure,” Brendon said quietly, having already decided not to push the subject. “So, when do you want to go over?”
“Might as well get it over with.” Ryan’s own voice was quiet as he shrugged, not really trying to fake nonchalance as much as convince himself that it would be okay, that there wasn’t going to be any huge drama or anything. It didn’t really work, though.
-
“You don’t have to come in.”
Ryan was stood at the front door of what used to be his home, hand on the door handle as he turned to look at Brendon, who was stood just behind him with some empty boxes in his arms.
“I don’t have to go into your room if you don’t want me to,” Brendon told him. “I can just carry stuff back to the car when you’ve packed it.”
“It’s not that,” Ryan said quietly, looking down for a second before meeting Brendon’s eyes again. “It’s just - this place, it isn’t too… nice,” he finished almost apologetically.
“Don’t worry about me,” Brendon told him firmly, shaking his head. “I’m with you in this, okay?”
Ryan just nodded, swallowing hard as he turned the key in the lock and opened the door, walking into the lounge area which the front door lead right into.
When Brendon looked around, taking in the living room space and looking through the far door into the part of the kitchen he could see, he understood why Ryan hadn’t really wanted him to see what his home was like, because it wasn’t a home. The place was mostly bare, with a basic sofa and some other furniture, and quite dark with the curtains half drawn across the windows. There weren’t really any of the things Brendon associated with a home; there weren’t any knick knacks and random things a family usually came to collect over the years, no lumpy clay models a six year old Ryan might have made at school, no photos around except a couple of framed pictures of a young woman Brendon thought must have been Ryan’s mother, his heart sinking. That feeling only intensified when he noticed the bottles - in varying degrees of emptiness - which littered the room in lieu of anything else.
Turning around to look at Ryan, his mouth opening to say… quite what, Brendon didn’t really know, but before he could Ryan was shaking his head, lifting the boxes from Brendon’s arms and nodding towards the stairs for Brendon to follow him.
-
They’d already gotten most of what Ryan wanted to take with him down to car already and Ryan was just putting a few more random things in a box, giving it to Brendon and picking up his guitar case, when both of their attentions were caught by the click of the front door opening downstairs and then shutting heavily.
Ryan’s eyes widened as he jumped slightly at the noise, and Brendon could practically see the tension enter his muscles.
“It’ll be okay,” Brendon said quietly, stepping over and pressing his lips to Ryan’s temple, cupping his hand at Ryan’s jaw as he stayed like that for a second or two until he felt Ryan nod against him. Secretly Brendon wasn’t sure that this wouldn’t be better, really, in the long run, with the chance that Ryan’s father could contact the authorities when he noticed Ryan didn’t come home and his stuff was gone.
They went downstairs together, Brendon purposefully going first, and George was standing in the living room taking off his jacket when he turned around, looking confusedly at the two of them as they walked down the last couple of stairs.
“I’m leaving,” Ryan said as firmly as he could, though Brendon heard the slight tremor in his voice and noticed the way Ryan was stood just slightly behind him.
George laughed a little, the noise humourless. “Just like that? After everything I’ve done for -”
“Yes,” Ryan cut him off, voice even stronger. “After everything you’ve done, or haven’t… I’m leaving,” he repeated. Ryan hated that he felt sad about this, that he felt bad for some reason and couldn’t help but search his father’s eyes for some kind of regret, or acknowledgement that this wasn’t some unfounded decision, or even that he just cared at all. And it might have been there, but Ryan never could tell whether it was just wishful thinking, so he pushed those thoughts away.
“Why don’t you go out to the car?” Brendon said softly, turning his head to look at Ryan and taking in the expression on his face, and how clearly this was hurting him, just being in the situation.
Ryan just nodded, hesitating slightly before walking out as he considered speaking to his father again. There wasn’t really any point though, he told himself as he left silently, closing the door behind him with his free hand. There wasn’t anything left to say now, there had been too many years of living in confusion and often fear, Ryan wishing so badly that he could just have that normal family thing, just be cared about, and not being able to understand why he wasn’t. It was too late.
Once Ryan had gone outside Brendon put the small box he was holding down on the floor by his feet, pleased as he noticed George noticing. The older man seemed wary, like he didn’t know what Brendon was going to say or do.
“So, who are you?” George asked him. Brendon had changed out of his shirt and collar, so if he wasn’t familiar with the church Ryan went to then he wouldn’t know Brendon was a priest, and Brendon figured they might as well keep it that way.
“I know Ryan from the church,” Brendon told him, his response technically truthful.
George breathed out another bitter laugh, looking away for a couple of seconds before he said, “I always thought Ryan would leave. Sometime. Sooner, I thought.” George’s words sounded strained, like actually talking about this was really hard for him. Which, Brendon thought to himself, it probably was, especially if he never had, even with Ryan. “Always thought he should,” he admitted, voice growing quieter as Brendon just listened. “Me - I -” George stopped, running his palm over his face. “I never knew how to do this. After his mother -” he paused, Brendon feeling for the man even though he still saw him as that person who had hurt Ryan so much, in more than one way. “I couldn’t even…” he trailed off. “Let alone look after a kid.”
As Brendon just listened George went on with his monologue of sorts, like he was latching onto this chance to confess or something - which was ironic, Brendon realised, given that he didn’t actually know Brendon’s profession.
“It’s no excuse,” Brendon said simply, trying to keep the anger he felt towards this man out of his voice, because he was supposed to have been trained to keep a level head in any situation, but standing in front of George his head automatically ran through the litany of thoughts connected to Ryan and how he deserved better. “There are no excuses for the way you -” Brendon sighed, running his hand through his hair. “No excuses,” he repeated, his voice sounding unnaturally cold and harsh.
George just nodded, the man’s whole frame suddenly seeming smaller somehow, his shoulders sinking as let out a slow breath before raising his eyes to meet Brendon’s again, his gaze darkened and maybe not just because of the dim surroundings they were standing in.
“Do… do you think he’d ever be able to forgive me?” Brendon wasn’t expecting that. With the way Ryan was; the beliefs about himself and the world which Brendon knew were a result of the way he’d grown up, the way he knew George had treated his son on more than one occasion, and generally ignored him the rest of the time, Brendon had formed an idea of the man in his head of someone so bad as to almost seeming inhuman. But George was - human, that is, and it was just so strange for Brendon to be seeing it then, Ryan’s father suddenly seeming so vulnerable. “He shouldn’t.” George stated, breaking Brendon out of his train of thought as he paused, his voice even quieter, more tired sounding when he spoke again, looking down at the carpet near Brendon’s feet. “I know I don’t deserve it…” As he trailed off, Brendon could see that the man was resigned to his words, believed them completely. And really, Brendon couldn’t blame him. If it was him in that situation - though he hoped to God he’d never be able to be - then Brendon didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself.
“God forgives all who truly repent.” The words slipped from Brendon’s mouth almost without him thinking about it, but as angry as Ryan’s father’s behavior made him he still believed those words, the thought passing through his own mind even as George spoke again.
“And how forgiving are you?” he asked Brendon, eyeing the way Brendon’s hands were still curled into fists at his side.
“I’m only human,” Brendon answered him, then making the conscious decision to relax his hands as he glanced around the room, taking in the space which seemed so cold and empty, and Brendon suddenly realised that whether it was self inflicted or not, aspects of George’s life were punishment enough. Brendon then just bent down and picked up the box at his feet before making eye contact with George once more. “But… It’s never too late to change, you know.”
The other man didn’t answer Brendon, just glanced out of the window once more at where Brendon’s car was parked out on the road, at Ryan sat in the passenger seat, staring at his hands in his lap. During those few seconds he seemed to visibly deflate somehow, the sense of it probably more emotional than physical as Brendon looked at him, almost wanting to step back or something when George met his eyes again, his expression so sad, and tired, and just… defeated.
He didn’t speak again, just gave Brendon a nod as he swallowed hard before just walking away and into the kitchen behind him. It said enough, his silence; his acceptance.
After loading the last box into the back of his car Brendon got into the driver’s seat, sighing as he simply reached over and entwined his fingers with Ryan’s in the boy’s lap.
“You okay?” he asked quietly, fairly certain of the answer as he just looked at Ryan, wishing he could just make it okay, and certainly not for the first time since they’d met.
“I think so,” Ryan’s own voice was quiet, almost a whisper really as he just gave Brendon’s fingers a gentle squeeze with his own. “Kind of, anyway,” he shrugged, finally looking up to meet Brendon’s worried gaze.
“Come on,” Brendon said, reluctantly removing his hand from Ryan’s and putting the key in the ignition as he turned his head once more to look at where Ryan had come from, the thought rising in his mind again of what that place had never been for Ryan, but that he could have now. “Let’s go home.”
EDIT: Because I figure you guys'll appreciate it, when I was helping paint a house on Saturday I also did this (and miiiiight have watched the Northern Downpour video that morning lol)
