effective torture techniques [gen]
effective torture techniques
1,122 words // pg-13 // gen
[prompt: hs_bingo - senior trip]
[warnings: recreational drug use]
Ryan doesn't realize he's frowning until Jon nudges him and mumbles, "S'wrong?"
He jerks his head around to look at Jon, who's slumped at an odd angle on the couch. Ryan can see Brendon out of the corner of his eye and a moment later, he feels Spencer staring, too. Shaking his head just gets him a disbelieving eyebrow lift in response. He does it again, just a little shake, and Jon's chin tilts up. They'll talk about it later.
Right now they have guests and even though something is bothering him, Ryan's ridiculously excited to see Spencer and Brendon. He's been looking forward to their visit for the last three months; right after Spencer called him to tell him that his parents had given him the cash for a plane ticket. Well, technically it was for the school's senior trip, but they'd told him he could use it however he wanted. In an unsurprising turn of events, the Smiths had given Brendon a 'graduation gift' in the same amount.
And now both of his best friends are here, finally getting to meet Jon.
Ryan's still not sure how he was lucky enough to stumble on Jon Walker. He'd figured he'd used up all his karma getting Spencer at six and Brendon at sixteen, but for some reason, Jon likes him. Likes him enough that he's stuck around months after their photography class was finished.
Jon grins, the evil smile that everyone thinks is cute but Ryan knows is just a cover. There's another eyebrow and Ryan tilts his head to the side, considering. Finally, he smiles back.
"So," Jon says, sitting up on the couch. "Who's ready for a smoke?"
Ryan snorts, watching as Spencer continuously runs his hand over the arm of the couch. Brendon's lying in the middle of the living room floor. The weed's made him so alarmingly calm and still that Ryan crawls over to poke at his belly, making sure he's still alive.
"Fuck, Ryan. What the fuck?" The words are harsh, but the tone is slightly slurred, slow. Ryan pokes him again just for the hell of it and Brendon swats at his hand about three seconds late.
Brendon rolls his head toward the couch and for a moment, Ryan wants to warn him, tell him not to lay his emotions out on the table like that. Instead, he rests a hand on Brendon's arm. The touch is light and Brendon's gaze lifts up to meet Ryan's. There's realization there, but he's still eerily calm. Ryan doesn't know if it's the weed or if Brendon's just like that now.
He feels off kilter thinking the last might be true. That he's missed that much in a year.
Brendon offers him a small smile and Ryan returns it, not knowing what else to do. The smile falls away as Brendon glances over at the couch again. Sadness filters into his eyes, along with a little anger. Ryan turns his head to look.
Spencer's still sitting on the floor, leaning back against the couch. His head is resting on the arm that he'd previously been molesting, face turned toward Jon. Jon's laying across the couch, on his stomach as they talk, head at Spencer's end of the couch so their faces are close. There's the tail end of a joint between Jon's fingers and as they both watch, he takes a drag. He holds it in until Spencer giggles at him, making grabby hands. Jon grins, exhaling a small cloud into Spencer's face.
"No, no, Spencer Smith. People who pretend to be their best friend while texting do not get any more hits, sorry."
Ryan watches as Spencer goes bright red. Ryan frowns. What are they talking about?
"What are you talking about?" He asks. His brain to mouth filter doesn't work quite as well when he's high. Ryan is sure that it's the real reason he gets smoked up a lot. Jon is secretly evil. "Jon is secretly evil," he adds and Spencer nods solemnly.
Wow. Wow, he really is so fucking high right now. Shit.
Spencer doesn't seem to notice though, just says, "He really is." His glare at Brendon is slightly glassy and not harsh at all. "And Jon isn't supposed to know that happened."
Ryan looks back down at Brendon, who shrugs on the floor and says, "Jon's not-so-secretly secretly evil. He made me talk." Spencer looks skeptical.
Ryan feels like he's watching a tennis match. In real time, it'd probably the slowest tennis match in history, but right now his head feels like he's one of those bobble head dolls. Spencer says, "Jon is 1800 miles away, Brendon. How could he make you talk?"
Brendon pouts. Ryan refuses to let it work on him, but he can hear Spencer sigh. Even Jon gives a cute, "Awww."
"He showed me pictures of Dylan and Clover," Brendon tells Spencer.
"How does that make you talk?" Spencer sounds bewildered and Ryan admits that he feels kind of confused as well. "He kept texting me picture after picture, Spence. All that cuteness. I just couldn't take it anymore and spilled my guts."
"Brendon." Ryan looks at Spencer. He's finally managed to pick his head up off the arm of the couch. He's glaring at Brendon. "Brendon, that is absolutely ridiculous. Torture by kittens? Really?"
"It was horrible, Spencer Smith. Absolutely horrible. A massacre of too much cuteness." Ryan watches the way Brendon's hair gets scrunched against the floor as he shakes his head. "I had no chance, man. No chance at all."
"Oh my god." Spencer head flops back against the arm of the couch. "You are the most ridiculous human being alive, I swear." Ryan nods, it's true.
"But you love me, don't you, Spencer Smith? Admit it." Something sounds a little off in Brendon's voice. It's not very obvious, but when Ryan looks over toward Spencer, he can see the skin of his neck start turning pink. It takes a second too long for Spencer to answer, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
Ryan looks at Jon, to see what he thinks. But Jon is still staring at Spencer, a little smile on his face.
There's a hand on his arm just as Ryan's about to say something. When he looks down, Brendon is staring at him. There's something on his face that makes Ryan want to pull away, go sulk in his room, or some other bullshit that he hasn't pulled since he was thirteen. Brendon seems to understand though, and the look on his face shifts. A second later, he tugs on Ryan's arm. "Come down here, Ross. Tell me some secrets." Ryan doesn't move.
Brendon tugs again, persistent, and Ryan lies down beside him.
next | master list | previous
1,122 words // pg-13 // gen
[prompt: hs_bingo - senior trip]
[warnings: recreational drug use]
Ryan doesn't realize he's frowning until Jon nudges him and mumbles, "S'wrong?"
He jerks his head around to look at Jon, who's slumped at an odd angle on the couch. Ryan can see Brendon out of the corner of his eye and a moment later, he feels Spencer staring, too. Shaking his head just gets him a disbelieving eyebrow lift in response. He does it again, just a little shake, and Jon's chin tilts up. They'll talk about it later.
Right now they have guests and even though something is bothering him, Ryan's ridiculously excited to see Spencer and Brendon. He's been looking forward to their visit for the last three months; right after Spencer called him to tell him that his parents had given him the cash for a plane ticket. Well, technically it was for the school's senior trip, but they'd told him he could use it however he wanted. In an unsurprising turn of events, the Smiths had given Brendon a 'graduation gift' in the same amount.
And now both of his best friends are here, finally getting to meet Jon.
Ryan's still not sure how he was lucky enough to stumble on Jon Walker. He'd figured he'd used up all his karma getting Spencer at six and Brendon at sixteen, but for some reason, Jon likes him. Likes him enough that he's stuck around months after their photography class was finished.
Jon grins, the evil smile that everyone thinks is cute but Ryan knows is just a cover. There's another eyebrow and Ryan tilts his head to the side, considering. Finally, he smiles back.
"So," Jon says, sitting up on the couch. "Who's ready for a smoke?"
Ryan snorts, watching as Spencer continuously runs his hand over the arm of the couch. Brendon's lying in the middle of the living room floor. The weed's made him so alarmingly calm and still that Ryan crawls over to poke at his belly, making sure he's still alive.
"Fuck, Ryan. What the fuck?" The words are harsh, but the tone is slightly slurred, slow. Ryan pokes him again just for the hell of it and Brendon swats at his hand about three seconds late.
Brendon rolls his head toward the couch and for a moment, Ryan wants to warn him, tell him not to lay his emotions out on the table like that. Instead, he rests a hand on Brendon's arm. The touch is light and Brendon's gaze lifts up to meet Ryan's. There's realization there, but he's still eerily calm. Ryan doesn't know if it's the weed or if Brendon's just like that now.
He feels off kilter thinking the last might be true. That he's missed that much in a year.
Brendon offers him a small smile and Ryan returns it, not knowing what else to do. The smile falls away as Brendon glances over at the couch again. Sadness filters into his eyes, along with a little anger. Ryan turns his head to look.
Spencer's still sitting on the floor, leaning back against the couch. His head is resting on the arm that he'd previously been molesting, face turned toward Jon. Jon's laying across the couch, on his stomach as they talk, head at Spencer's end of the couch so their faces are close. There's the tail end of a joint between Jon's fingers and as they both watch, he takes a drag. He holds it in until Spencer giggles at him, making grabby hands. Jon grins, exhaling a small cloud into Spencer's face.
"No, no, Spencer Smith. People who pretend to be their best friend while texting do not get any more hits, sorry."
Ryan watches as Spencer goes bright red. Ryan frowns. What are they talking about?
"What are you talking about?" He asks. His brain to mouth filter doesn't work quite as well when he's high. Ryan is sure that it's the real reason he gets smoked up a lot. Jon is secretly evil. "Jon is secretly evil," he adds and Spencer nods solemnly.
Wow. Wow, he really is so fucking high right now. Shit.
Spencer doesn't seem to notice though, just says, "He really is." His glare at Brendon is slightly glassy and not harsh at all. "And Jon isn't supposed to know that happened."
Ryan looks back down at Brendon, who shrugs on the floor and says, "Jon's not-so-secretly secretly evil. He made me talk." Spencer looks skeptical.
Ryan feels like he's watching a tennis match. In real time, it'd probably the slowest tennis match in history, but right now his head feels like he's one of those bobble head dolls. Spencer says, "Jon is 1800 miles away, Brendon. How could he make you talk?"
Brendon pouts. Ryan refuses to let it work on him, but he can hear Spencer sigh. Even Jon gives a cute, "Awww."
"He showed me pictures of Dylan and Clover," Brendon tells Spencer.
"How does that make you talk?" Spencer sounds bewildered and Ryan admits that he feels kind of confused as well. "He kept texting me picture after picture, Spence. All that cuteness. I just couldn't take it anymore and spilled my guts."
"Brendon." Ryan looks at Spencer. He's finally managed to pick his head up off the arm of the couch. He's glaring at Brendon. "Brendon, that is absolutely ridiculous. Torture by kittens? Really?"
"It was horrible, Spencer Smith. Absolutely horrible. A massacre of too much cuteness." Ryan watches the way Brendon's hair gets scrunched against the floor as he shakes his head. "I had no chance, man. No chance at all."
"Oh my god." Spencer head flops back against the arm of the couch. "You are the most ridiculous human being alive, I swear." Ryan nods, it's true.
"But you love me, don't you, Spencer Smith? Admit it." Something sounds a little off in Brendon's voice. It's not very obvious, but when Ryan looks over toward Spencer, he can see the skin of his neck start turning pink. It takes a second too long for Spencer to answer, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
Ryan looks at Jon, to see what he thinks. But Jon is still staring at Spencer, a little smile on his face.
There's a hand on his arm just as Ryan's about to say something. When he looks down, Brendon is staring at him. There's something on his face that makes Ryan want to pull away, go sulk in his room, or some other bullshit that he hasn't pulled since he was thirteen. Brendon seems to understand though, and the look on his face shifts. A second later, he tugs on Ryan's arm. "Come down here, Ross. Tell me some secrets." Ryan doesn't move.
Brendon tugs again, persistent, and Ryan lies down beside him.
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