They both need somebody to be there for them.
“Did- did you hear any of that conversation?” Ryan asks, swallowing hard.
Brendon keeps his eyes on the road, avoiding the question. He heard every word Ryan’s dad said to him. “Do I make a right
“Uh, yeah.” He says, pointing to his house on the corner.
“Shit,” Brendon stares at the three story brick stone house in front of him in awe. Ryan shrugs and gets out of the car as if the house is nothing special.
Ryan stops in front of the house. “I’m sorry,” he says, his eyes looking down at his feet, “for everything.” He felt guilty that Brendon dealt with him, especially because the emotional breakdown was so unexpected. Tears are dried on his face, which he won’t clean up until Brendon’s gone. He doesn’t need to see scars and bruises.
Brendon shakes his head, “No reason to be sorry.”
“Lola probably has something to eat for us by now.” Ryan opens the door to the huge house smelling of Lysol, Brendon following behind him.
“Ryan! You brought a friend? Good, I made enough food for an army! Should last you and your dad until next week, let alone tomorrow.” Lola says in a happy voice, motioning with her hand to get the boys to come to the kitchen.
“Thanks Lola, I didn’t get much lunch today.” Ryan says, Brendon winces from remembering lunch. Ryan grabs a cracker with cheese on it, taking a small bite. “Lola, this is Brendon. He’s a friend from school.”
“Hi Lola,” Brendon cracks a light smile, “thanks for the snack. This is great.”
“I like him. He’s cute too.” Lola says, making both of their cheeks turn red. Both of the boys look at each other, a small smile escaping the younger boy’s lips.
The boys walk into the living room and sit down next to each other. Ryan sits quietly, words and actions of his father replaying in his head. He can’t help it; the whole house reminds him of his father, especially the couch considering that’s where his dad passes out on most nights.
Brendon doesn’t want Ryan to go to work tonight even though he doesn’t exactly know the extent of what Mr. Ross will do.
Ryan looks fine on the outside, but he knows it’s bad considering a tough senior like Ryan broke down because of it. All Brendon wants is for Ryan to be safe, with him. He fell for him in less than a day, which he sees as a mistake.
“So why do you have to work for your dad?” Brendon asks curiously as he watches Ryan go through movies.
“Well, my dad wants me to work with cars like him when I’m older. My dad’s really good with engineering and stuff like that and expects me to be too. I’m okay at it, I guess.”
“I don’t think I like your dad.” Brendon says, looking at Ryan. “I know what it’s like to have parents that want you to… ya’ know. “ Ryan wants to say ‘ditto’ about his dad, but figures he shouldn’t say anything.
“My parents are Mormons, I think that says enough on what they want their child to be like.”
“Are you like that?”
“No.” Brendon answers quickly. He doesn’t want to go into details on how his family doesn’t accept him. It’s not the worst, but it hurts him enough to not want to discuss it.
“Well what are you like then?” Ryan is somewhat confused, figuring out Brendon’s not exactly what everyone thought.
Brendon smiles on how Ryan is trying to get to know more, which he is. “Well, Mormon’s are really strict, and I’m kind of doing whatever I want to do.”
“Hippie.” Ryan says.
“I’m not a hippy,” Brendon laughs, “I just am not a fan of the idea.”
“I’m not a fan of working with cars either. Rather be a musician or something.”
“What do you play?” Brendon asks, him playing several instruments himself.
“I can play guitar and piano.” Ryan says as he stops flipping through CDs to look at Brendon.
“A few different ones, piano, guitar… drums. I suck at drums.” Brendon laughs at himself.
“I have a friend who plays drums. We jam sometimes,” Ryan says, thinking about Spencer, who has been gone sick for over a week. “He’s a junior too… you know Spencer Smith? Anyway, come on, let’s go get my guitars.”
“He’s in jazz band right? Yeah I’ve seen him around.” Brendon follows him up several stairs to the second floor, into a big bedroom filled with four guitars and three amps. “Wow. You’re dad must be in favor about you playing guitar too?”
“Absolutely not, I bought these all myself.”
“And where did you get the money?”
“I work at the guitar shop downtown too for extra money. The owner loves me and gave me two of these.” Ryan points to the
Fender and the Ibanez, both in perfect condition. He bites his lip at which one to give Brendon, him being extremely protective of his guitars. He grabs the Epiphone and hands it to Brendon.
“Holy shit.” Brendon says as he puts the guitar around him.
“Definitely not a Mormon.” Ryan scoffs under his breath, making Brendon laugh from hearing it.
Brendon plays a song that is unfamiliar to Ryan’s ears, but it draws him in to have him standing there frozen and staring. Brendon plays with such ease and enjoyments, letting the pick glide across the stings and his fingers move freely along the fret board. Ryan never has seen someone so happy to play an instrument and enjoying it like that before that it was mesmerizing. Brendon hums along to it, making a childish grin plaster his face as he finishes the last chord.
“You’re… you’re… amazing,” Ryan says, “What song is that?”
Brendon smiles at Ryan’s approval. “I wrote that tune myself.”
“Thanks Ry,” Brendon says, his own eyes opening to the nickname he just blurted out. Ryan grabs his Ibanez and tunes it down a half step on every string, doing it all by ear. “Wow, you’re good.” Ryan shrugs; tuning guitars is something that is mandatory to know how to do if you work at a store that sells guitars. Ryan begins to play the guitar, a soft melody escaping from his finger tips that eventually grows into loud chords and dies back to finish softly.
Brendon stares at Ryan, eyes wide. He feels an incredible amount of lust from his playing and his appearance. Ryan doesn’t look pleased with himself on his performance. “It was,” Brendon pauses, looking for the right adjective, “perfect.”
“It sucked. I messed up on the-“
“No you didn’t. If you did I would’ve heard.” Brendon says, taking the guitar off his shoulders and putting it back on the stand, Ryan follows.
Ryan watches Brendon check out his amps and the other two guitars, as he moves to lie on the end of his bed.
“Ryan…” Brendon glares at the bottle of whiskey on his drawer. “You drink?”
“Uh,” Ryan tries to come up with a lie, but he can’t seem to think fast enough.
“Tell me the truth.”
“It’s my dads,” Ryan’s voice fades out. He almost went fifteen minutes without thinking about it; almost a new record.
“Oh,” Brendon doesn’t ask any more questions, and sits next to Ryan’s body that is lying on the bed motionlessly. “You know, my brother got busted for drinking the other night? It was bad.”
“Well is he of age?” Ryan asks, raising his eyebrows.
“He’s twenty; my parents threatened to stop paying for his college and everything if he doesn’t follow through with Mormonism. ‘As long as you’re in our house you have to hold off just like the rest of us,’ my mom said.”
“My dad drinks a lot.” Ryan says, quickly regretting it. The only person knowing about his dad is Spencer, his childhood friend.
Brendon’s body falls next to Ryan’s, turning his head to look at him. “He’s always kind of been like that, even before my mom left. He would drink just for fun, or when he was the least bit angry. My mom tried to calm him down when he got aggressive but it just got worse when she did.” Ryan’s breathing roughens, trying to not sound weak. “It got really bad when my mom left, she didn’t want anything to do with him.”
Ryan is on the verge of tears when Brendon is already there. “I sound so pathetic. I’m sorry,” Ryan takes a deep breath as he stares at the ceiling, thinking about how to continue the story. Brendon can only shake his head in disagreement. “So when I was thirteen my dad made me start working for the shop on Thursdays and Fridays, I been doing that ever since.” Ryan thinks about the yelling and carrying on his dad would do as he worked. “He would be drinking already at work, and when we get home…” Tears begin to fall from Ryan’s eyes as he tries to cover them; Brendon pulls him and rests his arm on Ryan’s chest.
Ryan doesn’t want pity from Brendon, and Brendon isn’t giving him any. He’s giving him comfort. Ryan wants Brendon to be closer, to feel his exact touch and be so close that he could feel his breath against his face. He pulls him closer, Brendon resting his head on Ryan’s chest as Ryan plays with his hair humming a song.
“That’s horrible, Ryan.”
“What your dad does to you. Or at least what I think he does to you.”
“There’s nothing I can do. Whatever it is, I’ve already tried.” Ryan shrugs. It’s his life; his lifestyle that he is forced to live. Wake up, go to school, then later go to work and get whatever his dad is angry about taken out on him. “I’m moving out when I’m eighteen in August; got a full ride to University of Nevada, though I’m not sure I’m set on going. Everything will be f-fine.” Ryan’s voice cracks on the last word, he doesn’t exactly know for sure if everything will be.
For now, Ryan and Brendon take everything and lay in silence, letting their minds wonder about what’s to come.
Ryan runs into the shop to greet his angry father. He manages to mask his nervousness as he is confronted by him, but his dad just gives him directions on what to do, not seeming to pay much attention to him.
Ryan had to say bye to Brendon after about forty five minutes of lying down, Ryan having to get ready for work physically and mentally. Brendon didn’t want to go; Ryan didn’t want him to leave, but he can’t show up in tears or shaking like a Chihuahua.
Ryan starts oiling the cars and cleaning the ones his dad just fixed, making them looks in pristine condition. He hates doing it but manages to keep a neutral expression on his face.
After he finishes the cars he goes to handle the customers, collecting their money and giving them back their keys as his dad works hard in the shop and already beginning to drink. The night manages to go fast enough, Ryan’s shift just ending as he tells his dad he’s leaving. His father doesn’t protest being so deeply involved in his work. His father usually isn’t home until one.
He figures he’d stop at Spencer’s house on the way, walking up to his doorstep and ringing the doorbell. Spencer opens the door, him being wrapped in a blanket and face red.
“How you feelin’ buddy?” Ryan asks, making his way into the otherwise empty house. “Where’s everyone?”
“Girls went on a sleepover and my parents are at grandma’s tonight. I feel like shit, thanks.”
“Any chance you’ll be back Monday?”
“I don’t know. But how was work today? You seem in a somewhat better mood.”
“Dad didn’t do much. He was pretty busy to yell at me.”
“Good. Hey once you have the chance you’re welcome to just stay with us, you know mom loves you.”
“Yeah,” Ryan says, making his way into the kitchen, grabbing a slice of pizza that laid in the box. “For a sick guy you sure not eating like one.”
“Well I never said I lost my appetite.” Spencer smiles, making his way into the living room to lie down. Spencer feels slightly light headed, trying to make his way to the couch before anything happens.
“Want me to get you something?”
“What’s the magic wo-“
“Just get me water, please.”
“There we go.” Ryan gets off of the stool and pours him water, giving some to him and a Benadryl even though Spencer didn’t ask for any.
“So do you know Brendon- junior?”
“Uh yeah, sure.” Ryan figures there aren’t any other Brendon’s in the school.
“Yeah I’ve seen him around.”
“He’s a really good guitar player. We hung out today and played a bit.” Ryan smiles at the memory.
“At your house?”
“Yeah,” Ryan nods.
“Nice. I’ve talked to him, he’s a good guy.” Spencer exclaims.
“I think so too. But I’m going to get going, you need your rest.”
“Are you sure? I know what happ-“
“I’ll be fine. He isn’t that bad tonight.” Ryan bites his lip in hesitation.
Ryan was wrong; his dad is actually horrible tonight. He storms into the house as Ryan’s in the kitchen, “Come here, Ryan. I need to speak to you.”
“I did a-all of the work.”
His dad grabs him by the shirt, making Ryan stare right into his eyes in panic. Ryan’s eyes widen as he is thrown to be against the wall, feeling his whole backside rise with pain. “P-please.”
“You need to be able to at least stand for yourself you little shit. Get yourself together!” His dad booms, hitting him across the side of the head. Ryan sinks onto the floor, tears rolling down his face and pain hitting ever nerve in his body.
Bruises on bruises will manage to form. “How could you be so worthless, so unable? I’ve taught you BETTER!” He screams, kicking the boy on the ground in the stomach. Ryan groans, that only being the noise he can manage to make as he falls into complete darkness.
Brendon had a long night; not being able to fall asleep from thinking if Ryan’s okay or not. He can’t help but want to keep him with him, and be with him all the time. Brendon simply wants Ryan to be his.
He finally manages to fall asleep at two, being so exhausted from hearing his family bicker all night. He tosses and turns, even showing his ADHD through is sleep.
When he wakes up he is determined to go check on Ryan and spends time trying to convince himself that Ryan is surely okay.
Even though Ryan is back at his house, lying on kitchen floor lifelessly out cold. His father managed to leave him there, heading back to the shop in his drunkenness to work away his anger.
He puts on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, grabbing his keys and heading out the door telling his parents he’s going to the store. Not that he doesn’t want his parents to know about Ryan- but it’s easier to just tell them he’s going to buy some milk or cake batter and get out of the house quickly.
He speeds over and knocks on the door as he gets more nervous with a lack of answering. What is he supposed to do? Break in?
It’s late enough, ten o’clock; Ryan should at least be able to get out of bed and answer. He rings the doorbell again and again and knocks on the door.
Nothing. Brendon can’t even hear footsteps or signs of life. It was killing him inside; not knowing if he’s okay. He gives in and tries turning the door knob, but it’s locked. Searching for an extra key lying around, Brendon manages to find one hidden under a mini statue of some sort. He slowly steps into the house, the clean appearance has gone with some random items lying on the floor. Brendon runs into the living room, but Ryan isn’t there. He goes for the kitchen; to find Ryan laying there with bruises covering his face and blood falling from where his dad had kicked him. Brendon’s heart stops as he slumps to Ryan’s side.
“Ryan, fuck,” Brendon picks Ryan’s head up for it to rest on his lap. “Ryan, wake up.” Tears begin streaming down Brendon’s face, not believing everything he’s seeing. “C-c’mon Ryan.” Brendon runs his fingers through the boy’s hair, down to his left shoulder to lightly shake him. His eyes flutter open as he jumps to see Brendon, him lifting his hand to his forehead in pain.
“Shit, um,” Ryan panics, sitting up. He bites his lip trying not to cry, it being near impossible as they run down his cheeks anyway. “You need to go, you have to go.”
“He really hurt you,” Brendon says, putting his hand to Ryan’s face and stroking back the tears. Ryan nods and leans back onto Brendon’s chest, sobbing into it loudly. “E-everything will be okay Ryan, alright?”
“No it won’t!” Ryan gasps, taking in air.
“It’ll get better? Calm down,” Brendon stokes his back and holds him tightly, trying to make it sound like he isn’t crying but anyway clearly is. “Please, Ry? Remember? I’m here? I’m always here.”
Ryan is pretty torn up. His body is sore and battered as his mind is spinning from the reality that’s hit him. He’s on top of Brendon, crying into him even though he wants him to leave, it being embarrassing to see him like this- so vulnerable, torn up… hurt.
“I- I’m sorry.” Ryan cries, being sincere. “You… are dealing with me. I’m sorry you are.”
“What? No Ry I-“ Brendon holds him tighter, lips going into Ryan’s disheveled hair. “I care about you. And I… I like you.”
Ryan looks up to him, eyes big and soulful. He likes him too; Ryan actually fucking loves him. “You pity me.”
“No. Ryan, I like you, and I’m here for you.” Brendon says his breath against his head.
Ryan stares at him for a bit and blinked. “I like you too, Brendon…uh.”
“Brendon Urie, and your Ryan Ross. Remember?”
“Yeah.” Ryan nods, slowly getting up as Brendon follows as he catches Ryan from stumbling. “Thanks.” Brendon nods.
“What happened? You don’t have to tell… just… I-“
“My dad started drinking later at work and got home piss drunk. H-he was yelling and carrying on to me and then k-kind of… y-yeah. T-then I kinda passed out I guess.” Ryan stutters, his whole body shaking as he makes his way to the couch, Brendon sitting next to him.
Brendon reaches out his hand to examine the bruises on his face, being careful not to touch the dark purple and awkward tan
coloring on his nose and cheek. “These aren’t all new bruises.”
“I uh, kinda use makeup to cover it up.” Ryan looks down at his bruised arms, knowing he’ll have to apply some there too.
Brendon sighs, looking into Ryan’s eyes- he really can’t help but to stare.
“I really am sorry.” Ryan apologizes, Brendon shakes his head.
“Stop saying sorry all the time. None of this is your fault.”
Ryan bites his lip as Brendon goes to the kitchen to grab some ice, the older boy watching him like a hawk as he lightly applies pressure to Ryan’s face. Ryan tenses but then relaxes to the cold touch.
“If you uh, if you wanna stay at my house anytime you need, you’re more than welcome. Mom loves visitors.”
“I’ll be fine here.” Ryan objects.
“No you won’t” Ryan ducks his head low, making Brendon have to pull away the ice. Brendon touches Ryan’s chin to lift his head again, reapplying the ice to his nose. Ryan pulls it away and grabs Brendon for a hug, tightly gripping him. Brendon doesn’t say anything and slowly wraps his arms around him, staying there for a while. Ryan pulls him in so they lay on the couch together; holding each other in their arms slowly are falling asleep; both of them lacking it.
Ryan couldn’t help himself- he’s so mentally attached to him already. He was tempted to kiss him as he pulled them in for a hug, even. Nobody cared until Brendon. Sure- Spencer did, but it’s… different. Brendon is someone who would bring him back- gets his attention. Makes him listen and is comfortable and inviting. He didn’t want to risk losing him because of his love for him that could scare him away. Ryan really wants him, so badly, but can’t quite admit it.
Brendon loves him. He loves everything about him. Being in his arms protecting Ryan as they lay together comforts him, making him calm down as well. They both feel that sense of safety around each other that they wouldn’t otherwise have.
They both need each other, but both unaware of the extent and the other’s feelings.
Everyone needs somebody for someone. That someone you need in your life from day one. They both just got that someone.
A/N Well DAMN. This is longer than half of the papers I wrote for this school year, (Shows how much effort I put into that), and I worked quite hard on this one, ignoring my other fic and gave this one my undivided attention for... the last week.
I hope you review and rate this, it would be nice to know all this work was worth it. I know it's a bit messy- just... sorry. I didn't want to revise 9 pages on microsoft word.