Ryan's POV. We meet his brother.
He moved closer to me.
“Ryan, I know I haven’t known you long but I kind feel like I can trust you”
I gasped as he raised his hand and stroked my cheek gently.
Before I could think about what was happening his lips met mine.
He was kissing me.
HE was kissing me!?
“What the fuck!?” I pulled away and ran. I didn’t look back I just ran.
Out of his house, out of his life.
Out of his life? Oh for god’s sake Ryan, you’re such a drama queen.
Once I was far enough away I slowed to a walk, breathing heavily. I needed to think straight.
Exactly that, I needed to think STRAIGHT.
I hardly took my eyes of the ground. It felt like I’d been walking forever. I’d just been thinking things over.
I look up now and then, just to make sure I’m not about to die or trample a dog or small child.
What just happened?
Stupid question Ryan, what just happened was a really hot, nice guy that goes by the name of Brendon Urie just kissed you. And you ran out of his house.
You literally ran out of his house.
Why did I run?
Stupid question, I ran because I was scared.
Scared of getting hurt.
Scared of what he would think.
He being Br- When I was, a young boy, my father…
My thought process was interrupted by my phone.
I dug through my pockets to find it; I looked down, great, Brent. Speak of the devil.
I really didn’t want to deal with my brother right now; after all, he was probably wasted and/or high. Or he’d been arrested again.
I was used to it by now though, drunk phone calls at 3am asking why I wasn’t home, when in actual fact, 99.9% of the time I was at home. He however wasn’t, and it was more than likely he would be banging on someone’s door, asking, not very politely for George Ryan Ross III (yes, that’s my name, leave me alone) to let him the fuck in or he was going to take a leak on their doorstep, again.
That would usually be my cue to get out of bed, and go and track down the fucker before he scared more locals by making them think there was a crazy guy with a squeaky voice looking for some kind of royal that goes by the name of George Ryan Ross III, and who may or may not be about to pee on their doorstep.
And I would usually find him passed out in someone’s garden or, have to pick him up at the police station.
He was my ‘responsible’ 22 year old brother.
I hated him. No I literally hated him.
He was homophobic for one thing, he’d always taught me how being gay was wrong, how boys liked girls and girls liked boys, and I hated him for it.
But I wasn’t gay?
I couldn’t be gay?
But I liked him, I knew I liked him. Oh god WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME?
Shit, Ryan answer the phone.
“Ry Ry?” A squeaky voice slurred from the other end of the phone.
“Come the fuck home! I made dinner!” He sounded unusually pleased with himself.
“Um, okay.” I said, hesitantly. Brent was not good in the kitchen, and a drunk Brent was especially not good in the kitchen.
I ran the rest of the way home, worrying more about the possibility of no house and a dead brother than what had just happened.
As I neared my house I could smell no burning and see no bright orange flames, I sighed with relief. I kicked open the front gate and walked up to the front door, slotting my key in the lock I pushed it open, I prepared for the worst.
“RY!” Brent stumbled towards me and welcomed me with a bone crushing hug.
I looked through into the dining room.
“For fucks sake Brent!”
“What? I thought you’d be pleased?”
“No, buying McDonald’s does NOT count as making dinner” I sighed in dismay at the sight of the two big mac meals on the wooden table. “And I’m a fucking vegetarian”
“Oh, sorry Ry, I forgot” His eyes looked hurt.
“and I have been for 5 YEARS”
“It’s just not that big of a deal to me RyRy, it’s not like your gay or anything, if you were gay, fuck I’d never forget that.”
I ran upstairs, leaving Brent to pass out somewhere downstairs and undoubtedly eat both the big macs himself.
I had to admit it to myself.
I had to be, I mean, I’d never had feelings for girls before; I’d never had a girlfriend. I didn't want a girlfriend. I wanted a boyfriend. I wanted Brendon, I knew it, I couldn’t say anything though, I couldn’t tell him after what I did, and I certainly couldn’t tell Brent, he was homophobic enough already, I think if he found out his own brother was gay it would push him over the edge.
“…If you ever want to talk, just let me know”
I knew who I could tell.
I scrolled down my contacts and pressed call.
“Spencer?” My voice wobbled slightly. I hadn’t realised I was crying.
“Ryan?” He sounded concerned. “What’s happened, are you okay? Are you still at Brendon’s?” He fired questions at me.
“Spencer, I-I think I’ve hurt him”
“What?” I could sense anger in his voice.
“Not literally…” I hesitated, “He kissed me”
“Oh God, what happened? Where are you now?” His tone softened.
”He was saying how he could trust me or something, then h-he kissed me and I ran home”
I heard him sigh.
“He does this”
“Does what?” I worried
“Falls, way to easily, he’s done it before but I didn't think he’d ever fall again after his last relationship. If you can call it that.”
I didn’t say anything, waiting for Spencer to continue.
“Some guy called Oli something”
I felt my stomach plunge with a strange sense of jealousy. I began chewing on a pen to calm myself.
“He wasn’t good news, anyway, Bren was in love with him, but he only wanted him for one thing, which he took, then he cheated on him with a girl called Amanda and moved to England to start some screamo band, broke Brendon’s heart and he hasn’t been the same since. I noticed something in him today though, the way he looked at you, I haven’t seen him that happy since, well, since Oli.”
Tears fell from my eyes, why did I feel so bad? I’d only known the guy for a day!
“Fuck” I choked, almost inhaling my pen lid.
“Sorry” I spat out the accusing implement, it hit my guitar and rolled under my bed. No doubt where it would spend the rest of its life.
“So, wait, you think he likes me, you know, in that way?” I knew we were starting to sound more and more like teenage girls but I didn’t care. I wanted to find out more about what had happened with this Oli guy, but I didn't feel it was my place to ask, maybe he'd tell me himself one day, if he ever spoke to me again.
“He kissed you Ryan, yes, I’d say he likes you” Spencer answered me bluntly. I felt a slight flutter of excitement.
“Spencer, I-I think I like him too, but what if I’ve hurt him? What if he won’t talk to me?” I started worrying again.
“Brendon’s like a puppy…” I immediately pictured his big brown eyes, “Give him love and he’ll forgive you”
“Nice way of putting it” I wiped my eyes, “So your saying I can sort this out?”
“Yes, talk to him tomorrow”
“Okay” I paused, “Thanks.”
“Anytime, Brendon’s vulnerable, but I know you’ll do what’s right, make sure you take care of him Ryan, he bruises easily, kinda like peach”
“I will” I giggled, the peach reference reminding me of Brendon’s exquisite behind. His ‘applebottom’ as Spencer called it.
I hung up, feeling a wave of relief flooding though my veins, so it would be okay. I looked down the stairs to see my brother passed out on the floor. I checked he was still breathing, but left him there went back upstairs to plan what I was going to say to Brendon. Or rather what I was going to do to Brendon.
No, that sounded dirty. I mean, not that I wouldn’t like to do dirty things to Brendon, I mean he was fucking hot for one thing, and his tight jeans left little to the imagination…they really accentuated his, urm…
Ryan! I stopped myself. You're not going to fantasize about a boy in that way. Yet.
I thought back to when he kissed me, it did feel right. I had nothing to compare it too, but this is what first love is supposed to be about isn’t it?
I knew exactly what I had to do.
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