“I just want to be alone.”
He’s in his AP bio class, trying to finish a close to impossible quiz that he knows he will most likely fail.
“Class, I will be in the hallway right outside, to talk to Mrs. Finn. I’ll hear everything, by the way.” The teacher states, Brendon still not knowing his name after a whole semester with him.
When he steps out of the door the class all groans in unison, a guy practically yelling, “WHAT THE FUUUUUUUCK,” Making the teacher snap his head back in.
Well, at least he’s not the only one failing.
Brendon just rolls his eyes and rubs his forehead as he leans his elbow on the desk.
Why did he take AP bio? Bad decision on his part considering he is really bad at it.
The bell rings as Brendon quickly draws a shape on his paper to fill space, standing up and handing it in. Smiley face. Nice.
“At least it’s lunchtime,” he thinks.
He sits down at his table, waiting anxiously for Ryan to come to sit with him. He can’t help but want to see him, it being a whole… four hours.
He notices Ryan from the corner of his eye, talking with a random girl. He’s smiling at her, and she’s smiling back.
Brendon tries to hold himself from glaring, feeling at tap on the back. “What’s up?” Spencer asks happily, sitting in a chair across from him.
He fixes his look onto Spencer, “Just failed a bio quiz. You?”
“You’re an idiot for taking that class.” Spencer shakes his head and stretches.
“Yeah well school starts at eight in the morning, what do you expect, you know?”
“Totally,” Brendon looks back to his right, Ryan stopping at his former lunch table, throwing grapes at Kevin’s head. Brendon groans. "Why is it only Tuesday?" Spencer ignores the question.
“Hey, don’t worry.” Spencer looks towards the table, “He always has to get his word in. Or else his social status would be dead, you know?”
“Why does he care?”
“Let’s be honest, Ryan’s an asshole.” Spencer shrugs.
“Hey,” Ryan smiles as he sits in the closest chair to Brendon, scooting closer and putting his arm around him.
“Hey,” Brendon smiles back, looking at the taller boy’s features, because damn he really does a great job on doing his makeup, covering up the bruises and scars.
“No hello?” Spencer bites.
“You’re in a good mood today.”
“Well, I just got an A on in English paper that I wrote in ten minutes, so I’m thrilled.”
“Good job. I just failed a bio test.” Brendon says, leaning into Ryan.
“Oh,” Ryan whispers, feeling bad he just bragged about his grades while Brendon has been doing poorly. He rubs his shoulder as he keeps an arm around him protectively.
Brendon really wants to go home. He hates doing poorly but can’t seem to help it. Failing that quiz just put him in a bad mood.
It baffles him to see Ryan in such a bright mood, seeing right through it because obviously he’s upset. Ryan right now is probably in the worst mood of his life. He has become a pretty good at hiding it.
“Can we go home?” Ryan whispers into Brendon’s ear, almost seductively.
“Two more classes,” Brendon retorts.
“We aren’t doing anything in music! We already finished all the work for this year.” Ryan slides his hand onto Brendon’s lap, inching closer to his cock.
“Ryan, people will stare. No.”
“I don’t care,” Ryan keeps his voice at a husky monotone, pressing his lips just behind his ear making Brendon shiver.
“So you guys are... dating?” Spencer asks, whispering the word “dating”.
“Yup,” Ryan says, turning away from Brendon. “But he won’t love me back today.” Ryan pouts.
“I will. You don’t want people saying you’re gay, you know?”
“I pretty much am, boyfriend."
Brendon sinks into his seat in defeat.
The horrible day has ended for the both of them, Ryan in Brendon’s car as they head back to Brendon’s.
“I’m so fucking done,” Ryan puts his head against the window.
“I knew you were just playing happy today.”
“Nobody else did.”
“Well, you’re pretty good at pretending.” Brendon continues to stare at the road in front of him.
“Can I do your makeup today?” Ryan asks hopefully, Brendon groans. “You might like it, you know.”
“Good. It’s in my backpack.”
The get out of the car and head to his room, Brendon putting down a towel and sitting on it as Ryan sits in front of him, laying out all the different eye pencils.
“How many colors will you use?”
“You’ll see. Now look up for me.” Ryan orders, Brendon rolling his eyes than obeying, Ryan applying purple eyeliner under Brendon’s eye.
Brendon can’t help but fidget. “Shit! Brendon!” Ryan licks his thumb and wipes the part he smeared, Brendon not really caring.
They’re like that for about a half hour, Brendon getting jump and impatient especially because Ryan is also drawing on his face, not just his eye.
“I really like your face,” Ryan blurts out.
Brendon tries to keep himself from laughing at him. “I really like yours too.”
“You haven’t seen my face to the full extent. You’d be surprised.”
“Alright. I’m done,” Ryan says, after putting on eye shadow, standing up as Brendon stays on the floor.
“Can I see?” Brendon asks, holding a hand up for Ryan to grab and pull him up.
They make their way to Brendon’s bathroom, Brendon staring at him self in the mirror with wide eyes. “Holy shit. That’s so cool!” Brendon says enthusiastically, looking at the branch like figures on his cheek.
“I like doing that one on myself; it’s harder to do on others.” Ryan admits, shrugging because he’s not to pleased. He has done better.
“It’s great,” Brendon smiles, looking closer at the features.
“Eh,” Ryan diverts his gaze to his feet.
“Hey,” Brendon says, looking at Ryan, grabbing his face in his hands. “It’s amazing. You’re amazing. Okay?”
Ryan grabs Brendon’s face too, trying to stay away from the makeup. “This hurts.” They both drop their hands to lie lazily on each other’s bodies, Brendon kissing Ryan sweetly and briefly making Ryan somewhat impatient.
Because really? How long will he have to wait to just fuck him?
Ryan places his lips roughly against Brendon’s, his tongue sliding into his mouth giving no room for Brendon to complain. Their teeth clink together and Ryan pulls back.
“Ow, asshole.” Brendon laughs nuzzling into Ryan’s neck.
“That’s what you get for settling for a subtle kiss.” Ryan exclaims seriously.
Brendon laughs and grabs his hands, taking him back into the bedroom and sitting on the floor once again. “Not to offend you, but when can I take this off?”
“Want me to?”
“My face is itchy,”
Ryan nods and grabs a washcloth, taking off the makeup.
“Do you ever think about how— maybe— y’know.”
“What?” Ryan asks.
“Fate and stuff,”
“What do you mean?”
“What if… a few weeks ago… like— what if I never found you in the bathroom?” Ryan bites his lip, meeting Brendon’s gaze. “What if I haven’t sat by you in music? Or drive you home?”
“I don’t think it’s necessarily that,” Ryan says, “I mean, isn’t it all just coincidental that you happened to have to go to the bathroom?”
“What got you thinking about it?” Ryan continues to wipe Brendon off with the towel.
“With you around… things are better, and I don’t know… when we’re around each other I feel a lot better than when we aren’t. Even if we were fighting I just want to be with you.”
Ryan presses his forehead against Brendon’s finally cleaned face, placing a hand on the back of his neck. “Good, because I’m not planning on going anywhere.”
“Really?” Brendon smirks. “You weren’t kidding on the ‘no more bullshit’ thing?”
“I’m not a liar,” Brendon pulls away and glares. “Okay, not anymore at least.”
“Better,” Brendon smiles again, leaning into kiss Ryan on the lips, taking in the feeling of Ryan smiling against him. Ryan fumbles with Brendon’s t-shirt, hands slipping under the fabric. “Ryan…” he says, pulling away.
Ryan doesn’t say anything, an apologetic look on his face. Brendon really doesn’t want Ryan to see the somewhat fresh cuts on his chest and stomach.
“I know,” Ryan finally talks, “I know what you do. I haven’t expected you to stop.”
Brendon shakes his head, “I’m pathetic. Really, and then there's you who hasn't hurt himself even though you have been through so much bullshit."
Ryan shakes his head and grabs the wet rag, wiping it across his face and on his arms, revealing all of the bruises, cuts, and scars that his father has given him.
“The reason I don’t is because my body has handled enough as it is.” He’s shaking as he continues to wipe it off, not believing what he has just done. His face is practically made of bruises and imperfections, so why would Brendon be so self conscious?
Brendon is staring. He can’t help but stare. Sure he has seen bruises, but not well because there has always been a layer of products covering it. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, alright? Because you’re doing this to yourself, and I can’t necessarily do much about this. You can. It’s your choice on how you treat your own body. God- if I were you I would savor such good skin. Mine has turned into shit and you shouldn’t want to have something like it.” Ryan makes movements with his hands, gesturing to every part of his body.
Brendon is somewhat pissed off at the words. Ryan tries to grab his hand but Brendon pulls away.
“I can’t hold your hand?”
“I don’t like being told off. You said you would stop it.”
“Sometimes you need to hear things.” Ryan snaps.
“You think I don’t know those things already? You don’t fucking think about how I contemplated about this? I’m doing it less but—“
“That won’t help if you’re still doing it! Sure that’s ‘progress’ but honestly? You won’t stop by doing that.”
“Who says I want to stop? Maybe I like it!” Brendon bites.
“How could you like pain! You’re— er— beautiful. Why try to destroy that?” Ryan is looking Brendon right in the eye, Brendon’s eyes softening slightly.
“Can you go home,” Brendon asks, dropping the eye contact. “I just want to be alone.”
Ryan nods, and gets up. “I’m here for you, you know that? I want you to be… happy with yourself.”
Brendon continues to stare at the ground. He isn’t happy with himself, or his family, or the stress at school that gets to him so easily.
He rubs his face, fingers brushing against his own lips as he remembers the kiss.
Ryan hates walking home, especially because it’s about 102 degrees outside and he’s wearing black skinny jeans which trap heat really well.
Once he gets home he says “hi” to Lola who puts on a fuss on how sorry she is to hear about his father and all the bruises on his face, him struggling to assure her that he helped girls at school with their makeup for drama and going into his room. He goes to start a pile of homework which he barely finishes by an hour or so later.
He can’t help to think about Brendon, if he’s okay or extremely pissed at him. He wonders if Brendon is going to breakup with him or just stops talking to him.
He takes his shower, letting the overly hot water bathe him for a half hour before eating some of Lola’s crab cakes she has made and then moping around the house lazily.
He finally decides to go to bed around 10:30, it being rather early for him but he can’t think of anything to do.
He hears the door close downstairs as he lies in his bed, his eyes opening and looking at the time. 12:30.
Is his dad already home? The nurse didn’t make it sound like he’s going to be home for weeks.
His dad/the person make his or her way upstairs, hearing them come closer to his room; Ryan quickly closes his eyes and slips more under the covers.
His door opens slowly. It isn’t his dad. It’s Brendon with ruffled hair and sad eyes. “Ryan,” Ryan just looks at him, “I can’t sleep.”
“C’mere,” Ryan whispers, offering him a spot on his bed, Brendon slipping under the covers with him and snuggling close to him. Ryan kisses him on the forehead as he feels Brendon reach around him, “go to sleep.”
“Night,” Brendon says into Ryan shoulder.
And then it became apparent to both of them that they are, indeed, stuck with each other.
A/N Sorry for the long wait! D: I been busy/lazy lately.
Rate and review? Please? They do make me write faster, you know. Unless you don't want me to update O_o