It's not like that, man. I'm just worried about him, is all...
alkenore- Thank you so much for the two reviews! I'm really glad you like it :] I'll try to keep up with the quick updates.
i_heart_cliches- I know! I saw them play Camisado live on youtube and Brendon said "this song's for everybody who wants to dance" and I was like...wait, what? It made me think about how Ryan must feel hearing that. It's good to see other people noticed the same type of thing :] thank you for writing!
xxACoalminexx- Wow! I'm honored ^_^ thanks for favoriting it. I'll try to keep it up :]
on to the ficcy...
Chapter 6: This sure as hell ain't normal
Ryan Ross woke up the next morning stiff with fatigue and feeling an intense headache coming on. He turned in his bed and looked at the tiny alarm clock near his head, groaning when he saw that it read 10:00. That was way to early to be up the morning after a show.
Oh well... I'd better get some aspirin. Won't be able to fall back asleep like this, anyway.
He sighed and threw back the covers quickly, rolling out of bed and gasping slightly at the cool air that hit him like a wall. Getting out of bed was like ripping off a bandaid... you had to do it fast. He rubbed his temples, trying to aleviate the pain in his head, before stumbling down the tiny hotel room hall to the kitchenette and getting a glass of water. Ryan turned and was about to head back when he saw that the door to the second bedroom was shut tight, although there was a light on inside.
Hmm... I guess Bren must be up.
He shrugged to himself and continued down the hall, sidling through the cramped doorframe into his room and shaking four pills into his hand from the bottle he'd left on the nightstand. He popped them into his mouth one after another and washed them down, setting down the glass and wiping the water from his mouth with a sleeve. Ryan turned and sat down heavily on the bed to wait for the painkillers to kick in.
I wonder if Spence and Jon are up yet... maybe I'll call them. They always get up earlier than me and Bren, anyway. Where'd I put my cell? Dammit... must be in my luggage somewhere. I really need a better place to put it. Let's see... how do these hotel room phones work? I think to call someone who's staying here you just dial their room number, right? Guess I'll try it.
Ryan reached over and slowly picked up the yellowing phone, putting it to his ear. He was just about to start tapping out Spencer and Jon's room number when he heard a voice. Brendon's voice. Ryan was just about to put down the phone, not wanting to interrupt Brendon's conversation or eavesdrop, when he heard something that made him stay on the line, breathing quietly so as not to alert the other two people that he was listening.
"Maybe I worry too much... I don't know. But it hasn't been very long since Ryan's dad... you know... and I can't help worrying about him," Brendon nervously twirled the phone cord around his finger as he listened to the reply, before speaking again.
"I know. He seems to think nobody notices how agitated he is when we play Camisado, but I see it every time. I wish there was something I could do or say, but... it just feels like one of those things you're not supposed to bring up, you know?"
Again, there was a response, and the dark-haired boy seemed to grow more agitated with every breath.
"Yeah, I think so too. And anyway, he doesn't like me getting too close. I can't tell if it's just me or human contact in general. I can't imagine why he would only react to me, so that can't be it. I mean, I guess I can be a little bit... overwhelming.... sometimes, but I don't think he hates me enough to flinch away." The reciever crackled moments later.
"I see what you're saying, but I already started touching him, so it's too late to stop. The fans on our later tour dates would feel cheated if they didn't get to see me kiss Ry. Besides, if I stopped, rumors would probably get out about our alleged "break-up." He sighed, hoping the words that came to his ears would be comforting ones.
"Seriously! I mean, how does that make any sense? You can't break up with someone if you were never together to begin with. It's not like Ry would ever go out with me, anyway. He's just... Ryan, and a /guy/, and... and what the hell? Forget it." By this point the nervous boy was standing, pacing back and forth as far as the cord would allow him to go without ripping the phone jack from the wall. He needed to hear that it was crazy... that's the whole reason he'd called in the first place.
"I don't know... that might be it," Brendon said after the other replied, "Maybe there's one more reason I won't stop touching him. Maybe once the shows are over, I won't have an excuse anymore. Maybe it's not just for publicity and for the fans... what if it's for me too?" Now the striding had a purpose, as the willful boy launched into a tyrade, an epiphany. He grew more confident with every word he spoke. "What if I get close to him just because I want to?" Suddenly, as if realizing what he was saying, he deflated, flopping back down on the bed and muttering, "nothing wrong with that."
Crackling on the other end.
"I know what you're thinking, but it doesn't make me gay. I'm just a touchy-feely kind of guy."
"Why don't I do that to Spence or Jon? I don't know, they're just... not Ryan, I guess. Okay, that wasn't how I wanted that to sound. What I mean is, Ryan's just so... touchable. Goddammit, that doesn't sound right either. I don't know how to explain it, I'm just... hey, quit laughing!"
"I'm not in denial, dammit."
"Well, maybe if you weren't so damn cocky. You think you've got everything all figured out, but you're wrong about this." He could almost hear the muffled laughter. Then Brendon's frustration with the situation boiled over, and he exploded.
"Dammit Pete, I'm done having this conversation!" He slammed the phone down angrily, confusion speeding through his veins like some kind of cruel ecstacy.
In the other bedroom, a stunned Ryan Ross gently laid the old yellow phone back in its cradle.