(no subject)
the breath and the sound
816 words // PG // Spencer/Ryan
[A/N: spleenjournal and i somehow decided to do our own little ryan/spencer fic exchange based around this picture from the July 10, 2007 prompt at we_are_cities. so this is for Sarah because she is awesome for not calling when she wants to and hugs from a million miles away and a bazillion other things. ilu so hard, you've no idea.]
Beta: warmingweather, audreysrev & castoffstarter
tears have no time to fall...
Ryan hasn't cried at all.
Not when the phone call came.
Not during the service.
And not now, the day after. Spencer's been waiting, ready and willing to catch his friend, his best friend, when the moment comes.
He's getting worried the longer it takes - the less Ryan actually speaks.
which is how we come to this...
They're due to fly out early the next morning and Spencer's hovering at the door to the bathroom. He can hear the shower stop, hear Ryan moving around, but there's still no words.
Ryan hasn't said anything in the last six hours.
There's only so much silence Spencer can take before he breaks. He's unsure, though, what exactly to do.
Push the door open and demand Ryan's voice?
Turn around and walk away?
With a sigh, Spencer rests his forehead against the bathroom door. Not really any other choice. Guilt makes his stomach clench, his breath shallow. His fingers ache with the grip he barely even notices on the wooden door frame. It's only after a few minutes that he realizes all he can hear is the sound of his own breathing; there's been nothing but silence from the other side of the door.
And for a split second, Spencer is scared, terrified. His hand scrabbles over the door knob and before he's able to stop, the door is open.
Spencer's breath seems unnaturally loud.
the bruises are invisible under your skin...
Ryan's at the sink, fingers white against the marble, shoulders hunched, chin on chest. Spencer watches from his spot in the doorway, tracks a bead of water as it slides from a bare shoulder down the lean slope of Ryan's back.
Ryan hasn't acknowledged his presence, so Spencer's not even sure he's been heard. He moves his gaze up to the mirror.
Spencer thinks there's some kind of symbolism there, with Ryan's blurry reflection.
They've been friends for fifteen years and there are still parts that Ryan keeps to himself.
Do I really know you?
Spencer hates it.
He finally moves into the room, closer to Ryan. He raises a hand, watches as it hovers over moist skin.
The heat from the shower rises off Ryan's skin. Spencer can feel it.
Ryan?
No response.
Spencer drops his hand.
Ryan flies apart.
too weak to be your cure...
Spencer's so busy trying to grab hold of Ryan's hands, arms, anything, as they push and slap and hit that he almost doesn't see the tracks on Ryan's face. But there's still no noise, above that of skin hitting skin. Ryan still hasn't uttered a sound and Spencer's once again, inexplicably frightened that it's because Ryan's not breathing. Punishing himself.
Ryan's lean, skinny actually, but it's all muscle and it takes nearly everything Spencer has to get the upper hand. Finally he steps in close, pushes Ryan back against the sink. He traps one arm to Ryan's side, the other hand slides into the hair at Ryan's nape. Spencer can feel the water slide across his knuckles, down his wrist. He drags Ryan closer, presses him into his neck.
Ryan.
Please.
Ryan lets out a sob against his skin and Spencer feels it to his bones, through his heart. He just holds tighter and matches their breathing, chests rising and falling together. Ryan stills finally, and a moment later his arm, the one not trapped, comes around Spencer. He can feel jagged nails biting into his skin through the thin material of his shirt.
He presses closer, holds tighter.
behind the second door...
It seems like a million heart beats later when Ryan shifts against him. Spencer can feel his own name against the skin of his neck,
feels fingers loosen and slide down his back.
It's whispered again.
Spencer.
Fingers tighten involuntarily in Ryan's hair and Spencer feels breath catch against his skin.
Something shifts then; Spencer's not quite sure what it is.
Not until he feels lips slide up his neck.
Not until Ryan's straightened up some, brings his mouth to rest at the corner of Spencer's.
control is just another name for...
Spencer's unsure, afraid to open his eyes now; not sure when he'd closed them. Without thought, the fingers still twisted in wet hair tighten again. He can the feel the quiet gasp against his mouth, feels Ryan's chest expand as he breathes in.
Ryan's lips move over his completely and Spencer doesn't move.
Spencer.
Please.
This one is different, the desperation is the same, the intent so much different than Spencer's earlier plea. He knows he shouldn't respond. But if there's one consistency in this ever-changing world, it's Spencer's inability to say no to Ryan.
When Ryan's tongue slides across his bottom lip, Spencer's mouth opens on a breath.
816 words // PG // Spencer/Ryan
[A/N: spleenjournal and i somehow decided to do our own little ryan/spencer fic exchange based around this picture from the July 10, 2007 prompt at we_are_cities. so this is for Sarah because she is awesome for not calling when she wants to and hugs from a million miles away and a bazillion other things. ilu so hard, you've no idea.]
Beta: warmingweather, audreysrev & castoffstarter
tears have no time to fall...
Ryan hasn't cried at all.
Not when the phone call came.
Not during the service.
And not now, the day after. Spencer's been waiting, ready and willing to catch his friend, his best friend, when the moment comes.
He's getting worried the longer it takes - the less Ryan actually speaks.
which is how we come to this...
They're due to fly out early the next morning and Spencer's hovering at the door to the bathroom. He can hear the shower stop, hear Ryan moving around, but there's still no words.
Ryan hasn't said anything in the last six hours.
There's only so much silence Spencer can take before he breaks. He's unsure, though, what exactly to do.
Push the door open and demand Ryan's voice?
Turn around and walk away?
With a sigh, Spencer rests his forehead against the bathroom door. Not really any other choice. Guilt makes his stomach clench, his breath shallow. His fingers ache with the grip he barely even notices on the wooden door frame. It's only after a few minutes that he realizes all he can hear is the sound of his own breathing; there's been nothing but silence from the other side of the door.
And for a split second, Spencer is scared, terrified. His hand scrabbles over the door knob and before he's able to stop, the door is open.
Spencer's breath seems unnaturally loud.
the bruises are invisible under your skin...
Ryan's at the sink, fingers white against the marble, shoulders hunched, chin on chest. Spencer watches from his spot in the doorway, tracks a bead of water as it slides from a bare shoulder down the lean slope of Ryan's back.
Ryan hasn't acknowledged his presence, so Spencer's not even sure he's been heard. He moves his gaze up to the mirror.
Spencer thinks there's some kind of symbolism there, with Ryan's blurry reflection.
They've been friends for fifteen years and there are still parts that Ryan keeps to himself.
Do I really know you?
Spencer hates it.
He finally moves into the room, closer to Ryan. He raises a hand, watches as it hovers over moist skin.
The heat from the shower rises off Ryan's skin. Spencer can feel it.
Ryan?
No response.
Spencer drops his hand.
Ryan flies apart.
too weak to be your cure...
Spencer's so busy trying to grab hold of Ryan's hands, arms, anything, as they push and slap and hit that he almost doesn't see the tracks on Ryan's face. But there's still no noise, above that of skin hitting skin. Ryan still hasn't uttered a sound and Spencer's once again, inexplicably frightened that it's because Ryan's not breathing. Punishing himself.
Ryan's lean, skinny actually, but it's all muscle and it takes nearly everything Spencer has to get the upper hand. Finally he steps in close, pushes Ryan back against the sink. He traps one arm to Ryan's side, the other hand slides into the hair at Ryan's nape. Spencer can feel the water slide across his knuckles, down his wrist. He drags Ryan closer, presses him into his neck.
Ryan.
Please.
Ryan lets out a sob against his skin and Spencer feels it to his bones, through his heart. He just holds tighter and matches their breathing, chests rising and falling together. Ryan stills finally, and a moment later his arm, the one not trapped, comes around Spencer. He can feel jagged nails biting into his skin through the thin material of his shirt.
He presses closer, holds tighter.
behind the second door...
It seems like a million heart beats later when Ryan shifts against him. Spencer can feel his own name against the skin of his neck,
feels fingers loosen and slide down his back.
It's whispered again.
Spencer.
Fingers tighten involuntarily in Ryan's hair and Spencer feels breath catch against his skin.
Something shifts then; Spencer's not quite sure what it is.
Not until he feels lips slide up his neck.
Not until Ryan's straightened up some, brings his mouth to rest at the corner of Spencer's.
control is just another name for...
Spencer's unsure, afraid to open his eyes now; not sure when he'd closed them. Without thought, the fingers still twisted in wet hair tighten again. He can the feel the quiet gasp against his mouth, feels Ryan's chest expand as he breathes in.
Ryan's lips move over his completely and Spencer doesn't move.
Spencer.
Please.
This one is different, the desperation is the same, the intent so much different than Spencer's earlier plea. He knows he shouldn't respond. But if there's one consistency in this ever-changing world, it's Spencer's inability to say no to Ryan.
When Ryan's tongue slides across his bottom lip, Spencer's mouth opens on a breath.