Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > My Mirror Speaks
My Mirror Speaks
3 reviewsAnd then my mirror speaks with irreverence, like a solider I can't commend.
0Unrated
The sun was slowly creeping over the land, flooding through the open window. It shined on the surface of the mirror, illuminating it in golden light. Brendon could now clearly see his face. His disheveled hair was matted to his head, the dark brown strands tangled in knots. Stubble covered his face, giving the slight appearance of the workings of a beard. Sweat was dripping down his face, though he had started to cool himself off hours ago. The bags under his eyes showed that he had been standing there all night,. Just standing and waiting for the light to show him the truth. He couldn't have slept if he had tried, and this had become a ritual for him.
As son as he was supposed to go to bed, he would simply stand and wait. His hands were gripping the edge of the porcelain counter, his hair hanging in his face as he stood bent over the sink. Red lined his eyes, accenting the purple that made the deep bags. There was a small green bottle, the label torn off as water rolled down it from the humid air.
A small thought drifted through his head, telling him the bottle was at fault for the poor state his eyes were in, but he didn't care, nor did he give it a second thought, as he picked up the half empty piece of glass to polish it off. The liquid inside was a sour poison, slowly killing him from the inside out.
He was once again staring face to face with his disgusting reflection. The mirror spoke to him, telling him he was staring face to face with a man that wasn't half the man he used to be. Everything in his apartment was still as his mirror whispered to him, his reflection holding the smallest smirk. He hated that face, and the man he was staring at. A broken cackle broke the silence that was hanging so heavily in the air.
The thought that him and the person standing in front of him were the same person made him sick; they couldn't possibly be one and the same. No, he was standing face to face with a man who hides from all that binds in a massive fading light. There's a tangled thread inside his head with nothing on either end. His mirror spoke, seeing a frightened child in the body of a full grown man.
With this thought in mind Brendon found it easy to look through the filter the alcohol had placed and find where it had all went wrong. It was such a long time ago, but with the months that had passed since that fateful day, he found the memory crystal clear in his mind. He gave a soft sigh, letting go of the sink as the memory sank in. He rubbed his hand against his stubble covered face, watching the man standing across from him do the same.
The mirror continued to whisper words making his head pound. He didn't want to listen to what it had to say. He hated all of the lies that it spewed. The faults that it pointed out. The mirror made him so angry, with each passing word he wanted to break it, and the person that stood on the other side.
"It was a mistake." Brendon stuttered, shaking his head as the mirror told him where he had gone wrong. It continued to say it over and over, making him want to vomit. "I didn't mean to." He whispered the words, waiting for a response. The mirror went silent, the air going still once more. And in the silence it became so very clear, that he had long ago disappeared. Brendon cursed himself for being so blind, hating that life hadn't turned out the way it did in his mind.
With a debated sigh, he gave a small smile. He had decided on something to do for the day for the first time in months.
He took a quick shower, combing out his extremely tangled hair. He got dressed in semi-clean clothes, grabbed his keys, and walked out the door.
It took a four hour flight to get from Vegas to Chicago, and Brendon could only hope it would be worth it. He walked down the busy streets of the windy city, making his way to a home he had only been in once. He wasn't sure if the owner would be happy to see him, but it was something he had to do. With his hands in his pockets he walked up the steps of the old apartment building, making it to the top floor. He wandered down the hall, knocking on the familiar door.
"Brendon? What are you doing here?"
"Hey Pete...It's uh, been a while." Brendon watched as Pete grinned from ear to ear. Some people never change.
"Shit kid, get in here." Brendon nodded, walking into Pete's apartment. "What brings you here? I thought you and Spencer were working on your new album?" Brendon was silent, looking around at the surroundings, avoiding the reason why he had came all the way to see an old friend.
"Do you have any beer?" Pete smacked himself.
"Right right right! I'll be right back." He walked out of the room and Brendon sat on the couch, closing his eyes. "You okay?" Brendon looked at Pete, taking the beer he was holding out for him. He watched as the older male sat down on the chair across from him, a drink in his own hand.
"Yeah, I'm about as good as I'll ever be."
"You don't sound sure." Brendon was quite. "Come on, why did you fly across the country to see me?" Brendon stared at the floor, drinking the majority of the bottle. It was just the liquid courage he needed.
"Pete...Don't get mad, okay?" Brendon glanced up at Pete, watching as his posture and facial expressions changed. He went from looking relaxed to worried.
"Brendon....What happened?" Pete stared at Brendon, watching as he licked his lips staring at the floor again.
"When Patrick left, how did you deal with it?" Everything went still. Both of the boys were silent, Pete looking down at the drink in his hands as Brendon glanced up at him. It stayed like that for a few minutes, but Pete quickly changed the mood.
"How about I take you out to party? It looks like you haven't had a good time in a while." Pete gave Brendon a large smile, standing up. "You can borrow some of my clothes. There's no way in hell I'm taking you out with you wearing," Pete gestured to Brendon's body. "That."
"What's wrong with this?" Brendon looked down at himself and Pete made an offended noise.
"Too many things to count Brendon." Pete lead the younger boy into his room, getting him something different to wear. It was sun down when they were ready to leave, and Pete lead him out of the apartment, locking the door behind him. Brendon followed Pete as he lead the him down the streets of his hometown. The older boy lead him to a bar on the top floor of a building. It looked high class, with only a few people in the main room.
"You go ahead and order whatever you want, I'll be back in a minute." Pete left, leaving Brendon alone at a bar in a strange city. He bit his bottom lip, the bartender waiting for him to order a drink. With a sigh, he rested his head on his hand.
"A shot of tequila." The bartender nodded and put a bottle and shot glass in front of Brendon. He watched as the bartender poured the shot, giving it to him with a lime to bite after. He took the shot, the bartender walking to another side of the bar to serve one of the other people, he bit the lime after the shot the sour flavor tainting his mouth. Three shots later Pete came back, seeing a very tipsy Brendon. Pete grinned as he sat down next to the other boy.
"How about we get rid of this and go for two beers?" Brendon gave a nod and Pete told the bartender to swap the tequila for two green bottles. "Hey Brendon, does that guy over there look familiar to you? He keeps looking over here." Brendon looked over to where Pete was pointing, the older male taking the advantage to drop one of the small white tablets he had gotten in a bag earlier into Brendon's drink.
"I don't think so." Brendon muttered as he turned back around. Pete was acting strange, but it was something the younger male had gotten used to over the years.
"Could have sworn. Oh well. Cheers." The two boys tapped their glasses, Brendon quickly downing the liquid. "Ready to go party?" Pete said with a grin, looking at the time. Already 11.
Brendon's fingers started to tremble, the world starting to spin in front of him. "All right." The boy stumbled out of the bar and down the street, Pete leading Brendon to a brick building with a red sign out front that read 'EXCALIBUR.' A long and waving line was already present outside of the club, but Pete seemed to pay not attention to it as he lead Brendon to the front. The bouncers let them past, allowing the two to walk into the dimly lit building without a second thought.
The floor was body to body, a strobe light being the main source of light. The heavy pounding music made Brendon's heart pound as the smell of sweat, cigarettes, and alcohol made his head spin. The whole world seemed to be tilting; colors melting and blurring together.
"Pete! So good to see you!" Brendon watched as Pete got dragged into a crowd of girls, his head spinning as he tried to understand what had just happened. It didn't take him long to be pulled into the crowd on the dance floor. His body was pressed against others, and faster than his mind could comprehend he was grinding. Nothing seemed to matter. Nothing at all. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he started to crash, but he did know that he wanted the feeling to keep going. To keep the heat and sweat, the numbness and pleasure. He wanted nothing to matter. Absolutely nothing at-
"Brendon?" Such a sweet familiar voice, why did it have to bring back so many painful memories? "Are you high?" Dizzy. Very, very dizzy. Brendon started to fall, stopping only when two arms wrapped around him and held him upright.
"As a fucking kite." Pete muttered the words as he helped Brendon over to the bar, sitting him down on one of the stools. Brendon felt his head fall to the surface of the bar, the spinning world stopping to a screeching halt. It was killing him, coming down from his blissful high. "Hey buddy, you okay?" Brendon groaned and Pete gave a sigh, ordering drinks for the three of them.
"I'm guessing you're the one who dragged him here and feed him the pills?" Brendon hated that voice. So so so much. It was just to sweet for the person it belonged to.
"You act like I gave him the entire bag."
"Saying you didn't?" Brendon groaned and the other two quit their bickering, looking at the crashed singer. "We should take him somewhere more quite." Hands were put on Brendon's back, looping through his arms to bring the young man to his feet.
"Follow me." Pete said with a sigh. And then they were moving.
Pete had lead them to a small room, a single bar with three tables and a couch that lined one of the purple walls. Brendon was dropped onto the couch, his cloudy mind becoming focused.
"Why?" He breathed the word, looking directly at the familiar face. Brows knitted together over honey eyes.
"Why what?" A tongue ran across the plump pink lips after the question, licking the surface like Brendon had so many times before.
"Why did you leave?" Guilt crossed his face as Brendon watched. Maybe he didn't mean it when he left. He might have been lying when he said those faithful words. He shifted under Brendon's gaze, obviously feeling sick to his stomach. A sigh.
"Brendon."
"What are you doing to him?" Pete asked as he took one look at Brendon's tear filled eyes back to the man who had caused them. "You can't just fucking leave and then come back like nothings changed." Pete looked back over at Brendon, sitting down next to him. He gave him a small glass of water as he wrapped one of his arms around the younger boy.
"Pete, I just want to talk to him." Pete stared for a few minutes, debating what to do. He looked at the boys pleading face before glancing over at Brendon who was gulping the water he had given him.
"Fine. But I swear Ryan, if I come back here and Brendon's not happy I will not hesitate to beat the living shit out of you." The other boy nodded.
"Okay." Pete put his hands in his pockets, taking one last glance at Brendon before walking away. Brendon was left in the room alone with Ryan, the only other person being the bartender that was paying no attention to them. Ryan took out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, letting the flame dance on the end of the stick he had pulled out for himself. He let the pack sit on the table in front of Brendon as he pulled up a chair for himself. Brendon absentmindedly put his hand on the pack, dragging it over to himself while Ryan talked. "I didn't want to leave." Brendon put his own cigarette between his lips, silently wishing that Pete had stayed.
"Bullshit." Brendon mumbled the words as he lit the cigarette. Ryan gave a sigh, blowing smoke out at the same time.
"I had to. You know that." Brendon looked down at the round blue table, holding the cigarette between two fingers.
"It still fucking hurt." Ryan put his hand on Brendon's in a half-assed attempt to make him feel better. Brendon pulled his hand off of the table, making Ryan sigh.
"Brendon." Ryan stared at the mop of hair, unable to see his face. "Brendon please don't do this." The sound of water drops falling onto the wood echoed and Ryan saw the little drops on the table, watching as another one fell. "Please look at me." Brendon shook his head no and Ryan gave a shaky sigh, feeling terrible. He knew it was his fault, even if he didn't want to admit it. Ryan took a long drag of his cigarette, looking away from the younger boy as half of his cancer stick turned to ash. He tapped it off onto the floor, using his free hand to cup Brendon's face. He guided it upwards, looking at Brendon's closed eyes. Tears were still leaking out, his lips trembling.
"Don't." Brendon muttered, keeping his eyes closed as tears continued in a steady stream down his face.
"Brendon, please look at me." Brendon shook his head once more, and Ryan pulled his face closer to his own. Brendon's eyes shot open and his body tensed ad he felt the familiar sensation of Ryan's perfect lips on his own. It took him a moment to process what was happening, and when he finally did he melted into it. Ryan was always his one weakness. He had come to Chicago to get rid of the thought that he had left, so it figured he would fucking run into him. After a minute Ryan pulled away, letting the hand he had on Brendon's cheek fall to the table.
"Ryan?" Brendon's voice was so hopeful it was heartbreaking.
"I'm so fucking sorry B." Brendon moved, getting up from his place on the couch. He went to the other side of the table, sitting on Ryan's lap.
"I am too." He gave the older man a smile before attaching his lips to the older mans. Brendon wrapped his arms around his neck, tangling his hands in the other boys soft chestnut hair. Ryan gave into the feeling, adding more pressure as he held onto Brendon's waste, pulling him closer. If Brendon wasn't focused on the feeling of Ryan licking his bottom lip, he would find the irony in the boy who pushed him away pulling him closer.
Brendon opened his mouth, allowing Ryan access. The older male slipped his tongue in Brendon's waiting mouth, reviling in the familiar flavor of watermelon and alcohol. The two had a battle, tongue against tongue. Ryan won, not that it surprised either of them. Brendon smiled as the taste of what could only be Ryan filled his mouth, missing the flavor. How had they gone for this long without each other?
Ryan pulled away, his lips finding their way to Brendon's jaw where they left a trail of butterfly kisses. Brendon tilted his head back slightly, his breathing quickly becoming shallow. Ryan moved down, kissing Brendon's neck. Soft moans escaped Brendon's plump pink lips, encouraging Ryan to keep going.
"Fuck." Ryan smirked against Brendon's skin as he let out a loud groan, making Ryan bite and suck at the sensitive skin on Brendon's neck. Right where the collarbone and neck attached. Brendon tightened his grip on Ryan's hair, making the other boy give a soft moan. The sound vibrated against Brendon's pale skin, sending chills up and down his spine. "I-I mi-ssed you." Brendon stuttered, tripping over his words in his heavy breathing state. Ryan pulled away, looking into the dark half lidded eyes that belonged to Brendon.
Ryan set his lips against Brendon's ear, breathing against it for a moment before whispering. "I love you so much Brenny." Brendon smiled, giving into Ryan's words once more.
"Make up sex?" Brendon whispered back, making the older boy grin up at him.
~~~~~
This was going to be a really long one-shot, but I was thinking it would be better to cut it in half. So now it'll be a two-shot. I'll post the other part same day next week.
Hope you like it.
-xoxo Pansy.
As son as he was supposed to go to bed, he would simply stand and wait. His hands were gripping the edge of the porcelain counter, his hair hanging in his face as he stood bent over the sink. Red lined his eyes, accenting the purple that made the deep bags. There was a small green bottle, the label torn off as water rolled down it from the humid air.
A small thought drifted through his head, telling him the bottle was at fault for the poor state his eyes were in, but he didn't care, nor did he give it a second thought, as he picked up the half empty piece of glass to polish it off. The liquid inside was a sour poison, slowly killing him from the inside out.
He was once again staring face to face with his disgusting reflection. The mirror spoke to him, telling him he was staring face to face with a man that wasn't half the man he used to be. Everything in his apartment was still as his mirror whispered to him, his reflection holding the smallest smirk. He hated that face, and the man he was staring at. A broken cackle broke the silence that was hanging so heavily in the air.
The thought that him and the person standing in front of him were the same person made him sick; they couldn't possibly be one and the same. No, he was standing face to face with a man who hides from all that binds in a massive fading light. There's a tangled thread inside his head with nothing on either end. His mirror spoke, seeing a frightened child in the body of a full grown man.
With this thought in mind Brendon found it easy to look through the filter the alcohol had placed and find where it had all went wrong. It was such a long time ago, but with the months that had passed since that fateful day, he found the memory crystal clear in his mind. He gave a soft sigh, letting go of the sink as the memory sank in. He rubbed his hand against his stubble covered face, watching the man standing across from him do the same.
The mirror continued to whisper words making his head pound. He didn't want to listen to what it had to say. He hated all of the lies that it spewed. The faults that it pointed out. The mirror made him so angry, with each passing word he wanted to break it, and the person that stood on the other side.
"It was a mistake." Brendon stuttered, shaking his head as the mirror told him where he had gone wrong. It continued to say it over and over, making him want to vomit. "I didn't mean to." He whispered the words, waiting for a response. The mirror went silent, the air going still once more. And in the silence it became so very clear, that he had long ago disappeared. Brendon cursed himself for being so blind, hating that life hadn't turned out the way it did in his mind.
With a debated sigh, he gave a small smile. He had decided on something to do for the day for the first time in months.
He took a quick shower, combing out his extremely tangled hair. He got dressed in semi-clean clothes, grabbed his keys, and walked out the door.
It took a four hour flight to get from Vegas to Chicago, and Brendon could only hope it would be worth it. He walked down the busy streets of the windy city, making his way to a home he had only been in once. He wasn't sure if the owner would be happy to see him, but it was something he had to do. With his hands in his pockets he walked up the steps of the old apartment building, making it to the top floor. He wandered down the hall, knocking on the familiar door.
"Brendon? What are you doing here?"
"Hey Pete...It's uh, been a while." Brendon watched as Pete grinned from ear to ear. Some people never change.
"Shit kid, get in here." Brendon nodded, walking into Pete's apartment. "What brings you here? I thought you and Spencer were working on your new album?" Brendon was silent, looking around at the surroundings, avoiding the reason why he had came all the way to see an old friend.
"Do you have any beer?" Pete smacked himself.
"Right right right! I'll be right back." He walked out of the room and Brendon sat on the couch, closing his eyes. "You okay?" Brendon looked at Pete, taking the beer he was holding out for him. He watched as the older male sat down on the chair across from him, a drink in his own hand.
"Yeah, I'm about as good as I'll ever be."
"You don't sound sure." Brendon was quite. "Come on, why did you fly across the country to see me?" Brendon stared at the floor, drinking the majority of the bottle. It was just the liquid courage he needed.
"Pete...Don't get mad, okay?" Brendon glanced up at Pete, watching as his posture and facial expressions changed. He went from looking relaxed to worried.
"Brendon....What happened?" Pete stared at Brendon, watching as he licked his lips staring at the floor again.
"When Patrick left, how did you deal with it?" Everything went still. Both of the boys were silent, Pete looking down at the drink in his hands as Brendon glanced up at him. It stayed like that for a few minutes, but Pete quickly changed the mood.
"How about I take you out to party? It looks like you haven't had a good time in a while." Pete gave Brendon a large smile, standing up. "You can borrow some of my clothes. There's no way in hell I'm taking you out with you wearing," Pete gestured to Brendon's body. "That."
"What's wrong with this?" Brendon looked down at himself and Pete made an offended noise.
"Too many things to count Brendon." Pete lead the younger boy into his room, getting him something different to wear. It was sun down when they were ready to leave, and Pete lead him out of the apartment, locking the door behind him. Brendon followed Pete as he lead the him down the streets of his hometown. The older boy lead him to a bar on the top floor of a building. It looked high class, with only a few people in the main room.
"You go ahead and order whatever you want, I'll be back in a minute." Pete left, leaving Brendon alone at a bar in a strange city. He bit his bottom lip, the bartender waiting for him to order a drink. With a sigh, he rested his head on his hand.
"A shot of tequila." The bartender nodded and put a bottle and shot glass in front of Brendon. He watched as the bartender poured the shot, giving it to him with a lime to bite after. He took the shot, the bartender walking to another side of the bar to serve one of the other people, he bit the lime after the shot the sour flavor tainting his mouth. Three shots later Pete came back, seeing a very tipsy Brendon. Pete grinned as he sat down next to the other boy.
"How about we get rid of this and go for two beers?" Brendon gave a nod and Pete told the bartender to swap the tequila for two green bottles. "Hey Brendon, does that guy over there look familiar to you? He keeps looking over here." Brendon looked over to where Pete was pointing, the older male taking the advantage to drop one of the small white tablets he had gotten in a bag earlier into Brendon's drink.
"I don't think so." Brendon muttered as he turned back around. Pete was acting strange, but it was something the younger male had gotten used to over the years.
"Could have sworn. Oh well. Cheers." The two boys tapped their glasses, Brendon quickly downing the liquid. "Ready to go party?" Pete said with a grin, looking at the time. Already 11.
Brendon's fingers started to tremble, the world starting to spin in front of him. "All right." The boy stumbled out of the bar and down the street, Pete leading Brendon to a brick building with a red sign out front that read 'EXCALIBUR.' A long and waving line was already present outside of the club, but Pete seemed to pay not attention to it as he lead Brendon to the front. The bouncers let them past, allowing the two to walk into the dimly lit building without a second thought.
The floor was body to body, a strobe light being the main source of light. The heavy pounding music made Brendon's heart pound as the smell of sweat, cigarettes, and alcohol made his head spin. The whole world seemed to be tilting; colors melting and blurring together.
"Pete! So good to see you!" Brendon watched as Pete got dragged into a crowd of girls, his head spinning as he tried to understand what had just happened. It didn't take him long to be pulled into the crowd on the dance floor. His body was pressed against others, and faster than his mind could comprehend he was grinding. Nothing seemed to matter. Nothing at all. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he started to crash, but he did know that he wanted the feeling to keep going. To keep the heat and sweat, the numbness and pleasure. He wanted nothing to matter. Absolutely nothing at-
"Brendon?" Such a sweet familiar voice, why did it have to bring back so many painful memories? "Are you high?" Dizzy. Very, very dizzy. Brendon started to fall, stopping only when two arms wrapped around him and held him upright.
"As a fucking kite." Pete muttered the words as he helped Brendon over to the bar, sitting him down on one of the stools. Brendon felt his head fall to the surface of the bar, the spinning world stopping to a screeching halt. It was killing him, coming down from his blissful high. "Hey buddy, you okay?" Brendon groaned and Pete gave a sigh, ordering drinks for the three of them.
"I'm guessing you're the one who dragged him here and feed him the pills?" Brendon hated that voice. So so so much. It was just to sweet for the person it belonged to.
"You act like I gave him the entire bag."
"Saying you didn't?" Brendon groaned and the other two quit their bickering, looking at the crashed singer. "We should take him somewhere more quite." Hands were put on Brendon's back, looping through his arms to bring the young man to his feet.
"Follow me." Pete said with a sigh. And then they were moving.
Pete had lead them to a small room, a single bar with three tables and a couch that lined one of the purple walls. Brendon was dropped onto the couch, his cloudy mind becoming focused.
"Why?" He breathed the word, looking directly at the familiar face. Brows knitted together over honey eyes.
"Why what?" A tongue ran across the plump pink lips after the question, licking the surface like Brendon had so many times before.
"Why did you leave?" Guilt crossed his face as Brendon watched. Maybe he didn't mean it when he left. He might have been lying when he said those faithful words. He shifted under Brendon's gaze, obviously feeling sick to his stomach. A sigh.
"Brendon."
"What are you doing to him?" Pete asked as he took one look at Brendon's tear filled eyes back to the man who had caused them. "You can't just fucking leave and then come back like nothings changed." Pete looked back over at Brendon, sitting down next to him. He gave him a small glass of water as he wrapped one of his arms around the younger boy.
"Pete, I just want to talk to him." Pete stared for a few minutes, debating what to do. He looked at the boys pleading face before glancing over at Brendon who was gulping the water he had given him.
"Fine. But I swear Ryan, if I come back here and Brendon's not happy I will not hesitate to beat the living shit out of you." The other boy nodded.
"Okay." Pete put his hands in his pockets, taking one last glance at Brendon before walking away. Brendon was left in the room alone with Ryan, the only other person being the bartender that was paying no attention to them. Ryan took out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, letting the flame dance on the end of the stick he had pulled out for himself. He let the pack sit on the table in front of Brendon as he pulled up a chair for himself. Brendon absentmindedly put his hand on the pack, dragging it over to himself while Ryan talked. "I didn't want to leave." Brendon put his own cigarette between his lips, silently wishing that Pete had stayed.
"Bullshit." Brendon mumbled the words as he lit the cigarette. Ryan gave a sigh, blowing smoke out at the same time.
"I had to. You know that." Brendon looked down at the round blue table, holding the cigarette between two fingers.
"It still fucking hurt." Ryan put his hand on Brendon's in a half-assed attempt to make him feel better. Brendon pulled his hand off of the table, making Ryan sigh.
"Brendon." Ryan stared at the mop of hair, unable to see his face. "Brendon please don't do this." The sound of water drops falling onto the wood echoed and Ryan saw the little drops on the table, watching as another one fell. "Please look at me." Brendon shook his head no and Ryan gave a shaky sigh, feeling terrible. He knew it was his fault, even if he didn't want to admit it. Ryan took a long drag of his cigarette, looking away from the younger boy as half of his cancer stick turned to ash. He tapped it off onto the floor, using his free hand to cup Brendon's face. He guided it upwards, looking at Brendon's closed eyes. Tears were still leaking out, his lips trembling.
"Don't." Brendon muttered, keeping his eyes closed as tears continued in a steady stream down his face.
"Brendon, please look at me." Brendon shook his head once more, and Ryan pulled his face closer to his own. Brendon's eyes shot open and his body tensed ad he felt the familiar sensation of Ryan's perfect lips on his own. It took him a moment to process what was happening, and when he finally did he melted into it. Ryan was always his one weakness. He had come to Chicago to get rid of the thought that he had left, so it figured he would fucking run into him. After a minute Ryan pulled away, letting the hand he had on Brendon's cheek fall to the table.
"Ryan?" Brendon's voice was so hopeful it was heartbreaking.
"I'm so fucking sorry B." Brendon moved, getting up from his place on the couch. He went to the other side of the table, sitting on Ryan's lap.
"I am too." He gave the older man a smile before attaching his lips to the older mans. Brendon wrapped his arms around his neck, tangling his hands in the other boys soft chestnut hair. Ryan gave into the feeling, adding more pressure as he held onto Brendon's waste, pulling him closer. If Brendon wasn't focused on the feeling of Ryan licking his bottom lip, he would find the irony in the boy who pushed him away pulling him closer.
Brendon opened his mouth, allowing Ryan access. The older male slipped his tongue in Brendon's waiting mouth, reviling in the familiar flavor of watermelon and alcohol. The two had a battle, tongue against tongue. Ryan won, not that it surprised either of them. Brendon smiled as the taste of what could only be Ryan filled his mouth, missing the flavor. How had they gone for this long without each other?
Ryan pulled away, his lips finding their way to Brendon's jaw where they left a trail of butterfly kisses. Brendon tilted his head back slightly, his breathing quickly becoming shallow. Ryan moved down, kissing Brendon's neck. Soft moans escaped Brendon's plump pink lips, encouraging Ryan to keep going.
"Fuck." Ryan smirked against Brendon's skin as he let out a loud groan, making Ryan bite and suck at the sensitive skin on Brendon's neck. Right where the collarbone and neck attached. Brendon tightened his grip on Ryan's hair, making the other boy give a soft moan. The sound vibrated against Brendon's pale skin, sending chills up and down his spine. "I-I mi-ssed you." Brendon stuttered, tripping over his words in his heavy breathing state. Ryan pulled away, looking into the dark half lidded eyes that belonged to Brendon.
Ryan set his lips against Brendon's ear, breathing against it for a moment before whispering. "I love you so much Brenny." Brendon smiled, giving into Ryan's words once more.
"Make up sex?" Brendon whispered back, making the older boy grin up at him.
~~~~~
This was going to be a really long one-shot, but I was thinking it would be better to cut it in half. So now it'll be a two-shot. I'll post the other part same day next week.
Hope you like it.
-xoxo Pansy.
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