Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco


by Wicked_Lovely 5 reviews

It takes a look at death for you to realize that life is to short. But sometimes, it's already to late.

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: R - Genres: Angst,Drama,Romance - Published: 2011-12-03 - Updated: 2011-12-04 - 6798 words

The car was racing down the highway, Jon sitting in the passenger seat while Spencer drove. There were a million unspoken words between them, most of them having the same things they wanted to say. The silence was so thick it was almost tangible. It was driving Spencer insane. Finally he spoke, the words making Jon become noticeably uncomfortable.
"Why did you do it?" Jon's hands were shaking. He was longing for something he knew he couldn't get. He was just one of those boys who always wants what they can't have. And oh how much he wanted it, though he dealt with anything less than.
"Because I hate her." Jon started to mess with the loose seat belt, wondering when Spencer would bother to get it fixed. It wouldn't take much to break it, it was just cheap worn out plastic.
"I hate this!" Spencer screamed, taking a quick glance at Jon.
"But you're fine." Spencer started to scream, wailing over a million broken promises that never meant a thing to begin with. It left Jon silent, his head blocking out all noise that was coming from Spencer as he repeated the line over and over again in his mind. Spencer was fine. He always was, always had been. He was the opposite of Jon. Spencer got everything he wanted; anyone he wanted. No one could or would deny his requests. They didn't have to, and they never wanted to. Jon tuned back into what Spencer was saying, hearing his voice that was oh so full of venom.
"-It's like you don't even fucking care about other people's feelings anymore! All you do is sigh, going on like it's nothing. There's obviously something wrong with you, but if any of us even think about finding out what it is you just snap. Like it's suddenly our fault that you're deciding to make all the wrong choices. What is it, the third week of binge drinking for you? And do you ever even consider that hanging onto every type of poison you can get is hurting others? Because you're killing us along with yourself, Jon. You're just fucking killing us! The light from your eyes are gone, your smile seems to be lost, and every time any of us talk about relationships you get up and storm out like we mentioned something about murder. What the fuck is your problem?" Jon shook his head.
"Tell me you honestly want to know what's wrong. Just fucking say how far your willing to go into other people's problems. Because I'm not above telling you differently." Spencer seemed shocked by the words, though the only signs that showed it was the slight decrease in the pressure on the accelerator and a glimmer of despair in the pit of his eye. After that, his face grew angry once more, his foot pressing on the accelerator so their car was moving faster down the slick roads.
"You want me to tell you? Are you kidding me? I've been trying to crack the fucking shell you've been hiding in for weeks. I noticed it before the others did, and you still pushed me away. It's gotten to the point that I don't think you care about anything anymore!"
"This isn't what you think! It isn't even real!" Spencer let out a sound that was close to a growl before screaming back.
"Dammit Jon! Why don't you get it? You honestly won't settle for anything less than!"
"And you're fine." Jon whispered, sinking in his seat. Spencer didn't hear, his anger making the car start to swerve ever so slightly.
"I don't know what to think when I'm around you! I used to be so happy, but now all we have are arguments! Can you honestly tell me that you like the way things are going?" Jon stayed silent. Spencer started to cry. "Why can't you just be honest for once? You used to say that through the pain you always told the truth, but now it seems that that's far from what you've been doing. I just want to know what's wrong."
"Spencer!" Spencer opened his eyes in time to see the oncoming traffic, quickly slamming the breaks. The cheap plastic of Jon's seat belt broke, and Spencer closed his eyes as the sound of glass breaking and tires screeching against wet pavement made his head spin. When the car stopped, Spencer opened his eyes, seeing the large hole in the windshield. His heart pounded, his hand going up to his mouth as tears formed in his eyes. He quickly got out, rushing over to the body that lay bleeding unconscious on the pavement.
"Jon?" Spencer knelt beside the other boy, rolling him over so that he could see his horribly scraped up and bleeding face. "Jonny, wake up. Please don't do this." He held the older male, sobbing as other cars stopped around them. An ambulance was called, and the three people around the two boys gave sympathetic statements that meant nothing to Spencer. "I'm so sorry Jon, I didn't mean it. I swear I didn't mean it." Spencer held Jon close to him, rocking back and forth as he waited for his friend to wake up.
Spencer rode in the back of the ambulance with Jon to the hospital, refusing to leave his side or let go of his hand. He annoyed the paramedics to no end, rambling on and on and on, asking ten questions every second. Always talking, trying to divert his eyes from Jon's unconscious body. Yet he held his hand, refusing to leave his side. Nothing else mattered, just the fact that his heart was still beating.

Ryan stared at the ceiling, the sound of groans and grunts and moans mixing with slight pounding. He gave a small groan of frustration, rolling over in his bed as he covered his ears. He felt like he was drowning. There were conceptions of his relationship with the male on the other side of the room; that they were happy, that everything was going great, that the apartment they shared only had one bedroom that got used. And he wanted it to be true. More than anything he wanted all of it to be true. He was so lonely and lost as he heard the common noises, making his stomach churn and the walls close in around him.
He felt like he was going to break, that he was suffocating, drowning, dying. He wanted, no needed, to get out. To be as far away from the other boy as possible. But that crushing feeling that had chased him away was at fault for everything that went wrong. All the times that he had slipped out unnoticed, unaware of time or day, wandering around and around with no destination in mind, just the fact that he needed OUT. He had tried so many different ways to let out those bundled emotions that constantly built inside of him, and each one made his friends all the more worried about him. It was all 'You're killing yourself' this, or 'You don't even TRY to tell us' that, and he couldn't handle the consequences of his actions.
He spent so many hours just curled into himself, trying to block out the subtle noises that came from outside of his room. Because he knew, he knew that they all belonged to the cause of his troubles, and whatever flavor of the night he had. He would sit on the floor, rocking back and forth as he screwed his eyes shut, biting his lip, trying to not scream, and wail, and cry, and sob, and drone on and on and on. He would always always always get the sensation of being underwater, of being pushed and held to where he couldn't breathe. And then he would get to feeling that the walls were closing, and there was no place in the room that had oxygen, and that he was dying, slowly and steadily, he was dying.
He rolled over, burying his face into the pillow as he gave up on blocking out the noise. That's when he noticed his phone glowing, listening to the sound of Bedroom Walls', Six Weeks In The Imperial Gardens, the ringtone that he had set for whenever Spencer called. He didn't want to talk to Spencer, he really REALLY didn't want to hear his voice, he didn't want Spencer to hear his broken words, to realize that things really weren't as good as he thought. But he would do anything, anything, anything, to get out of the hell hole he had to call home.
He reached over to his bedside table, answering with a groggy 'Hello.' Spencer was crying. No, not crying, bawling. He was sobbing, and tripping over his words, and Ryan found it hard to make out anything.
"Spencer, just take a breath." There was a pause, the sound of Spencer taking in a deep breath before slowly letting it out, getting his tears under control, letting Ryan hear the static of his breathing.
"I didn't meant to Ry, I didn't mean to." At this, Ryan let his brows furrow, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what Spencer was going on about. Another deep breath, the sound of sobs being held back, Spencer's voice. "Jon, I-I just....Ryan, he-he got put here because" Ryan paused. He knew Spencer was expecting him to say something, but he was still to confused about what he was feeling to understand anything that Spencer could possibly try to explain.
"Where are you?" Ryan was pushing himself off of his bed, dragging his tired body up so he could tug on his pants, toss on his shirt, slip on his shoes. On the other line, Spencer tried to tell himself to breath once more.
"At the hospital by Jon's house." Ryan opened the door to his room, running into the flavor of the night, who was making her way to the door with disheveled hair and messy clothes. Ryan took a fleeting glance at his door, and then looked back to the startled girl, putting his phone to his shoulder.
"Roommate." He mumbled, walking to the kitchen. He listened to her gather herself before slipping out into the cold moonlight with no fear or regret. Ryan wouldn't admit it, but he envied her. The little blond could leave without a word, could just walk out and be forgotten no questions asked, and Ryan, Ryan would always have to stay.
He put the phone back to his ear. "Ry?"
"I'm on my way Spence. Don't do anything stupid." He hung up, writing a quick note for the person he loved with. Writing that he was going out, that Spencer needed him, that Jon was in the hospital, that he just needed OUT. And then he scribbled over the lines, scratching out everything but his name, ripping the piece of paper into two. Why, why, why, should he get to know where Ryan was off to? There was no point in it.
He grabbed his keys, leaving the ripped note on the counter before getting into his car, driving off to hospital where Spencer waited.

He was a wreck, though he had at least stopped crying. He was curled into a chair, his eyes half closed in exhaustion. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn't. Not with the guilt he felt. He knew, deep down, that everything that had happened to Jon was his fault, and his fault only. He stared at the sleeping boy through his half lidded eyes, looking at his pale face, hooked up to oxygen, his long and scratched up arms, wires lacing in and out of them, the blanket that covered him, with small amounts of blood where a wound or two would open and start to sting once more.
Ryan walked in, looking over at Spencer first before moving his eyes to Jon. His heart broke at the sight of both of them. The broken boy in the chair, trying hard to fall asleep despite his guilt, and the one who had stopped caring, lost in a dream that might go on forever. Spencer tried to lift his tired head, to look up at his best friend, but he just couldn't, couldn't find the energy to do anything.
So Ryan did the work for him, walking over to him with quite steps. He bent down in front of Spencer, brushing the hair out of his face as he put his hand on the younger boys knee. "It's going to be okay, Spence." They were silent, and Spencer fell into Ryan's arms, collapsing and crying and begging for things to go back to the way they were. Through the strangled sobs and the hurt-filled words, there was once sentence that broke Ryan's heart.
"I just want him to know I love him." Ryan continued to hold him, rubbing his back, running his long and calloused fingers through his messy hair, muttering soothing words, telling him it was okay. That everything was going to be okay. And Spencer fell asleep, his tired mind finally getting a break from the hurt and the pain of the world as he gave in to the sweet grace of sleep.

Brendon woke to an empty apartment. He thought nothing of it as he crossed the room, going to the fridge to take out the carton of orange juice. He was happy, though he couldn't figure out why. It seemed that most of the time he was completely alone, whether he was surrounded by people or not. There was always this sense of...regret that he felt. He knew that it had to do something with Ryan, but he could never figure out what it was that he regretted. Why he always felt guilty.
He poured himself a glass, drinking it slowly as he looked around the room. They had tried doing something about what they wanted to be, and both knew it just didn't work. Ryan was too broken, and Brendon was too oblivious. Though, neither would admit it. Ever. The living room was empty, notebooks and pencils scattered over the tables and floors. He knew for a fact that it was Ryan's doing, that he spent almost all of his time in the living room, the TV humming in the background as he wrote nonsense. Anything, was what he used to mutter when he thought Brendon wasn't listening. Anything to help him forget.
He looked at the counter, finding the small piece of ripped paper. He stared at it for a long few seconds. It was the first time he wondered where Ryan had gone off to, and when he would be back. Why he had left in the first place. Brendon gave a small sigh, picking it up as he tried to read the scratched out words.
It was impossible, like most things. He gave, and sighed, picking up his phone. He felt like getting out of the house, just leaving and doing something. Anything. He let a small smile grace his lips, and called Jon. Maybe they could go out for a movie or something. His eyebrows knitted together as a lady's voice said that the phone number was out of number. He shrugged it off, thinking that Jon had probably just broken it and hadn't gotten time to get a new one.
So he tried Spencer, who didn't pick up. He stared at his phone in confusion. He couldn't help but wonder if there was something going on that he didn't know about. He tried the last number that he wanted to call, desperate for an answer. One ring, two rings, three wrings, a groggy 'What?'
"Ry? Where are you?" The sound of rustling and a soft sigh filled with something Brendon couldn't define.
"Jon's in the hospital." Ryan mumbled, and Brendon could see him closing his eyes in a tired way. He could hear the pain and sadness in his voice, and it helped to paint the picture of just how Ryan was sitting, and every little action that he was doing. Brendon's face fell, his smile fading, and he looked down at the glass of orange juice on the counter in front of him, wondering how everything could go downhill so quickly.
"Ryan, what happened?" Another static filled sigh.
"You're just going to have to come here and find out. Spencer refuses to tell me anything." A shuffling sound. A soft groan and a pathetic pleading 'Ry?' Rustling once more. "Look, Brendon, I don't care what you do today, just please tell Spencer that everything will be all right."
"I'll be there-" Ryan hung up before Brendon could finish, the sound of crying in the background fading to nothing, leaving Brendon empty as he looked at the screen on his phone blink that the call was over before going blank. He closed his eyes, dropping his phone next to the glass, his head falling into his hands with his elbows propped up on the counter. All of the happiness he had felt completely drained from his body, leaving him tired and alone. He stood there for a minute, taking his time in an attempt to calm his nerves and gather himself. Once he had, he lifted his head once more, gazing at the living room with piercing eyes. He moved, making his way to the scattered pages, sitting on the floor like he caught Ryan so many times before. He scanned the lacy cursive, reading though dark lyrics and well thought out music notes.
He stopped, feeling tears stinging his eyes as a realization hit him, something that had to be said, no matter what the consequences were. This simple, and pathetic realization that had been building inside of him for the longest of time. Painful, yet relevant, and he knew, he just knew, that he had to tell Ryan why.
With all of his energy, he pushed himself off the floor, the papers rustling at the movement. He crossed the room, forcing himself to take a shower and get dressed. He slipped on his shoes, feeding and watering Hobo before grabbing his keys and slipping out the front door. The drive to the hospital gave him more than enough time alone with his thoughts. He thought about Ryan, and the weekend they had spent alone on the beach, just the two of them.
He felt the tears slipping out of his eyes as he remembered the words that had been spoken in the dark. 'None of this is real.'

Ryan sat in the chair by Jon's bed, holding Spencer as he finally stopped crying. The poor boy was so emotionally drained, he was either crying or sleeping or close to going to tears once more. Spencer's head was resting on his shoulder, his face buried in his neck as he whispered silent words of regret and remorse. Ryan threaded his long fingers through Spencer's hair, shushing him and telling him to just sleep. He tried everything he could to console the other boy, but he found it hard to do much of anything since Spencer didn't necessarily listen to him.
After sitting in the room for hours with Spencer and Jon, he found himself quickly becoming restless. And the walls were starting to close in on him, and he was starting to suffocate as the world came crashing down around him. He looked at Jon's face, and tears started to form in his eyes, Spencer completely asleep on his lap with his arms wrapped around him.
He knew the problem he had wasn't with the situation he was in, but rather, himself. He was the only thing he couldn't get away from, and yet, he was still his own biggest problem. Jon had once told him that some wounds never heal, and that they always stay open, bleeding to the point of doing anything to try and get it off your mind. At the time, there seemed no reason for him to believe it, but as the sensation of drowning started to overwhelm him once more, and everything seemed to make more sense than ever before.
Brendon walked in, and Ryan looked up, thinking it was just another nurse wanting to take vitals. Their eyes met for a second, transferring emotions from honey eyes to brown, before both blushed away. Ryan's were filled with sadness and something Brendon couldn't quite catch, whereas Brendon's had a mix of worry and confusion. He looked to Spencer, watching the way Ryan continued to run his fingers through his hair despite the fact that he was asleep.
He moved so he was next to Ryan, whispering to him almost silently. "How long has he been out?" Ryan looked up at him with tired eyes, and Brendon had a good chance to take in his appearance. Messy hair, dark bags under his eyes, chapped lips and pale skin. He was a wreck, and Brendon knew it.
"Jon or Spencer?" Ryan asked as he looked at Jon once more. Brendon tore his gaze from Ryan and let it fall on Jon's sleeping frame.
"Both, I guess." Ryan nodded.
"They got in a crash yesterday, Jon's been out ever since, and Spencer just fell asleep a few minutes ago." Ryan spoke quietly, strumming his long fingers through Spencer's hair once more. "I tried to get Spence to tell me what had happened, but he just, doesn't trust me I guess." Brendon sighed.
"You look tired, why don't you just go home, I'll watch the other two." Ryan stared at him for a long moment before nodding his head.
"Spence, sugar, it's time to wake up." Spencer rustled a little, screwing his eyes shut before allowing them to slowly open. "Hey, I'm going to go home and get some rest, Brendon's gonna be here for you, okay? If you need anything, pester him to death." Spencer nodded, forcing himself out of Ryan's arms so he could stand. Brendon watched him with big sad eyes as he left the room. Ryan never noticed.
Spencer collapsed into Brendon's arms, the other boy feeling somewhat thrown off by the gesture. He hugged back anyway, holding him as he whispered the things he wouldn't tell Ryan. "I did this to him B. I got distracted, and we crashed. He's going to wake up, right?" Brendon rubbed his back in a half-assed attempt to sooth him.
"Of course he's going to wake up. What makes you say otherwise?" Spencer let out a sob.
"Because life is so short, and you never know when it's gonna be taken away, and I just want him to know the words I never had the guts to say before. Brendon, if you were to die tomorrow, how many regrets would you have? How much would you have that you always wanted to say, but never got the chance?" The two were silent, Brendon holding completely still as Spencer stayed curled into him.
"I love you Spence, you're my best friend, and I want you to know that I'll always be here for you."

The days inched by, Ryan and Brendon switching off on watching Spencer. Every once in a while, they would take him away from the hospital, force him to go home and take a shower, get some rest and eat a full meal, but they never, never, never, left Jon alone. They knew that the moment they did, that he would wake up, and they would all regret not having him wake up to a familiar face.
Spencer was the one who wanted to be there when he woke up the most. He was so desperate for it. He would down coffee, try to the best of his abilities to stay awake and not to cry, but everything got to be too much from time to time, and he was known to end up collapsing and having someone else watch and see if Jon would wake once more.
Seconds turned into minutes, which turned into hours, which turned into three days, and Spencer had had too much, and was asleep once more, Ryan holding onto him as he tried to not fall asleep himself. Three days, seven hours, four minutes, and two seconds since Spencer and Jon had crashed, the boy finally started to wake. Ryan noticed the slight rustling, and his eyes widened. He hoped, he hoped with everything that he had, that he wasn't dreaming and that the nightmare of 'Would he, or would he not?' was over.
He could see Jon's eyes moving behind their lids, noticed the twitch in his fingers, the slight moving of his lips, and he waited for Jon to finally open his eyes. And when he finally did open his dark heavy eyes, Ryan was so relieved that he could cry. Jon looked around for a long moment, taking time to try and get his senses back. He moved slightly, his face twisting in pain from the little effort.
He closed his eyes for a minute, and Ryan knew that he was using all of his energy to stay awake. He licked his dry lips, turned his head, and opened his eyes. They stared at Ryan, who gave him a warm smile. He opened his mouth to speak, finding that his voice was lost, and closed it along with his eyes. Ryan reached out, using the hand that wasn't wrapped around Spencer to brush the hair out of his face. His eyes stayed closed as he attempted speaking.
"Ry?" Quite and almost not there. Ryan smiled, so overly grateful that he had finally woken up that he just couldn't take his eyes off of Jon.
"Hey kid, how are you feeling?" Ryan spoke quietly and slowly, half in an attempt for Jon's tired mind to process the words while at the same time keeping Spencer asleep. Jon responded with something that was close to a groan, and he forced his eyes open once more. "That good, huh?"
Spencer shifted in his sleep slightly, and Ryan gave a small sigh, running his fingers through the other boy's hair. "Ryan,...I need to tell you..." Jon spoke slowly, trying his hardest to get the words out despite hardly being able to think. Ryan bit his bottom lip, his teeth digging into the soft flesh that was his chapped pink lips. "I know....I know, that I haven't...been telling you anything." He closed his eyes, taking a sharp intake of breath. Ryan was getting worried, and wondered if it would be better for Jon to stop talking. "And it's not you....I've been...lost." He went silent, and Ryan sighed, pushing the hair out of his tired face.
"I know Jon, and don't worry about it. Just close your eyes and get some rest." Jon shook his head 'no.'
"No, Ry,....I have to" He took another deep breath, his eyes straining to stay open. "You're my best friend,...and you have to....know...I never meant any...any of happen. And...I think,...I might love...him, more than...last time." Ryan stared at Jon, who let his eyes close, and gave a small sigh, kissing Jon's forehead.
"I know, just go back to sleep."

A few hours later Brendon switched places with Ryan, who said nothing of Jon waking, nor the conversation they had. And it was hardly a half hour later that Brendon and Spencer were talking like nothing had happened, Brendon attempting to get Spencer's mind off of what had happened, that Jon stirred once more. The two stopped their talking at the slight movement, staring at Jon who opened his eyes slowly. Brendon was the first to speak.
"Jon?" They watched him move slightly under his sheets, his face contorting ever so slightly in pain from the movement. His eyes looked over at the other two, and he tried to smile. His eyes met Spencer's, and the two stared as Jon started to speak.
"Hey, B,...Spence." His voice was weak and tired, not that the other two cared in the least. He was awake, and Brendon knew he had to call Ryan and tell him. Jon read Spencer's expression, knowing the guilt and sadness that made his baby blues fill with tears. Brendon hugged Jon, wrapping his arms tightly around the other males sore body.
"I'm so glad you're finally awake." Brendon mumbled before pulling away. "I'm gonna go call Ry, Be back in a minute." Brendon walked out of the room, leaving Jon and Spencer alone to face all the things they had done, and the things that hadn't been said.
"Spence?" The younger boy let out a shaky sigh, resting his head on his arms next to Jon on the bed.
"I'm so so so sorry Jon, I never meant any of this to happen. It just-" He paused, giving out a small sob as tears started to leave his eyes. "I was just worried about you." Jon ignored the pain in his arm that came when he lifted it, touching Spencer's cheek, using his thumb to wipe away his tears.
"Don't." Jon gave a small sigh, watching as Spencer lifted his head to look at him. "Spence,...I've..." He closed his eyes and licked his lips before opening them slowly, trying to make sure that he held Spencer's gaze. "I love you." Spencer's hand went up to his mouth, and he cried.
It wasn't because he was sad about what Jon had said, but rather, that it took this dreadful event to make him admit it. Spencer moved, though he was still crying slightly, and pressed his lips against Jon's, hating that it took so long to feel the sensation that he had always wanted to try. He pulled away. "Do you know how long I've waited for you to tell me that?" He smiled at Jon, who furrowed his brows in confusion. "I care about you so much, Jon. So, so much."
Jon moved his hand to Spencer's cheek, caressing it as some of the younger boys tears fell onto his face, the warm drops running down his skin. "Spence?" He moved his hand, ever so slightly, enough to wipe the tears that continued to flow.
"I-I love you, too, Jon." The two grinned at each other, basking in the feel of their lips against the others.

Across the hall, Brendon was having no such luck. He had called his and Ryan's home phone twice, and was starting to get worried as he called his cell. He knew for a fact that Ryan was home, because he had bitched and moaned about not being able to take a shower, but it had been long enough for him to finish taking a shower and he had to be eating, because that was what Ryan did.
Little did he know that Ryan was, if fact, at home, but not there at all. His mind was elsewhere, and the walls were closing in on him, and the panic was settling in, and he was sitting on the floor suffocating, Hobo watching him with her big eyes and a tilted head. He felt like he was being crushed, that there wasn't any oxygen, and he needed something to pull him out of the room. Hobo let out a bark, and he looked up, noticing for the first time his surroundings. He looked at his glowing phone, listening to the ringtone he hated to hear, the one that said it was Ryan who was calling.
But he answered it anyway, wanting nothing more than to get out of his dying state. "Hello?"
"Ryan, thank God you finally answered. I have good news, Jon woke up!" Brendon sounded excited, happy, just normal Brendon.
"That's good. I guess I'll be there as soon as I can." Ryan tried to hide the way he was feeling, though he knew he wasn't doing that good of a job at it.
"Oh and Ryan?" The smile had faded from Brendon's voice, and Ryan's mind started reeling at what it could be.
"Yeah?" A deep breath from the other end. Ryan could picture him scratching the back of his head.
"I have something I need to tell you." A pause. Nothing was said for a minute, and Ryan finally sighed.
"B, if you need to say something, then just say it." Ryan let his hand rest on his head, getting impatient with Brendon's games.
"Never mind. Just get here as soon as you can." Brendon hung up, making Ryan give out a frustrated sigh. He stood, Hobo looking at him with an adorable expression that he couldn't help but love. He picked her up, walking to gather himself before leaving.

The next week was nothing but good news. Jon got out of the hospital, and moved in with Spencer where he belonged. Brendon continued to be Brendon, an aspect that everyone was happy about. The only thing that seemed to change was the odd remarks that Brendon made when he and Ryan were alone. He was constantly telling him that there was something Ryan had to know, but he never once told him what it was.
A situation that Ryan found himself in once more. He had been sitting at the table alone, his mind racing as he started to get lost in the words of the past, when Brendon walked in, grabbing a glass of milk before sitting at the table across from Ryan. The two exchanged glances, Ryan blushing away for reasons he couldn't pin down.
"Ry?" He looked back up, his eyes locking on Brendon's.
"Hmm?" Brendon ran a hand through his messy hair.
"I have something I have to tell you." Ryan narrowed his eyes. He had enough with this. Brendon hadn't told him this thing that he was so desperate to tell him. He was conflicted, and it was driving Ryan mad.
"Then just tell me dammit!" Ryan snapped and Brendon looked a little taken aback, to say the least. Ryan's eyes softened as he saw the expression Brendon held, giving a soft sigh. "You're driving me insane B, please, please, just tell me what you want to tell me." Brendon nodded, closing his eyes.
"Do you remember that weekend we spent on the beach alone? When it was just me, you, and the stars?" Brendon opened his eyes, staring at Ryan's shocked face. The other boy whispered back his response, wondering why Brendon was bringing back a memory he had tried so hard to repress. Not because he wanted to, but because he knew it was best for their friendship if he didn't remember.
"Brenny, none of that was real." Brendon shook his head, closing his eyes once more. He licked his lips, giving a shaky sigh.
"But you remember? That night where you were lonely, and I was lonely, and we were just so lonely, that we gave in to everything? Because Ry, even if you don't want to remember, even if you want to think it wasn't real, I want you to know that that was the best fucking day of my life. I'd give anything and everything to go back to that day."
Ryan stared at him, shaking ever so slightly. "B, don't do this." He closed his eyes, his head falling in his hands as a tear ran down his cheek. "Please, please, please, don't say what I think you're going to say." Brendon was silent for a moment, before forcing himself to speak again.
"I have to Ry, because life is so motherfucking short, and I need you to know, because you could be gone tomorrow, and I would be left forever wondering 'What if.' I just," He sighed. "I have to tell you." He fell silent once more, taking in a breath, trying to steady himself before saying the only words that would change everything for them. He waited until Ryan was looking up at him once more before speaking. "Ryan, I need to be with you. All of my happiest memories are when you're around, and, I know that you probably don't want to hear, but you just have to. Because Ryan, I fucking love you more than life." Ryan was silent, and Brendon caste his eyes down. The room was completely still, and Brendon knew that Ryan didn't feel the same way. But it was worth it to get it off his chest.
"That's fine. I'll just go." Brendon started to get up, tears forming in his eyes as his face fell. Ryan got up, going around to the other side of the table, he put one of his hands on Brendon's knee, forcing the younger male to stay with him.
"Brendon, please look at me." He shook his head no. "Hey, come on, don't cry. Please don't cry." Ryan used his other hand to wipe away the tears and Brendon finally looked up. "B, I can't honestly tell you that I love you back." Brendon tried to get out of Ryan's grip, unable to listen to what he had to say. "But Brendon, please just listen to me. Love is such a strong emotion, and it takes so much for you to get to that point in time. You know how the love in my past ended up, and how it never really worked out that well. I just- I don't know if I can." Brendon sniffled, looking away again as tears continued to fall. Ryan put his hand on his cheek, staring at his gorgeous face.
"I can't honestly tell you that I love you Brendon, but I would be lying if I said that I never wanted to kiss you, that I never thought about waking up to your beautiful face every goddamned morning, or that I don't want to hold you in my arms. I may not be able to say that I love you, but I can sure as hell tell you that I would like nothing more than to just fucking be with you." Brendon was looking at him again, and Ryan gave him a warm smile. "Brendon, I have a question for you."
Brendon wiped the tears out of his eyes, and looked down at Ryan. "Yeah?" He croaked, the word hardly sounding like what it was supposed to be. Ryan licked his lips nervously, moving the hand that rested on Brendon's cheek to push the hair out of his face.
"Will you go out with me?" Brendon's eyes widened, and he nodded, moving so he could kiss Ryan, who laughed at his actions. He couldn't say that he loved Brendon back, but he was sure as hell willing to try and get there.

Seconds turned into minutes, which turned into days, which turned into weeks, that turned to a month, and everything was going swimmingly. Ryan fell fast and hard for Brendon, and Spencer and Jon couldn't honestly be happier. Their second album was coming out, and they were getting ready to go on tour. For once, everything seemed perfect.
But perfection never was Ryan's strong suit.
It was two days after he confessed that he loved Brendon back with all his heart, that the two made love for the first time, when the world started to get too heavy once more. He paced back and forth, moving from one side of the room to the other. It was closing in on him, and he was suffocating once more. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and he couldn't leave. He bit his lip, peering in at Brendon who slept in their bed with Hobo by his side. He was the cutest sleeper Ryan had ever seen.
Hobo opened her eyes, staring at Ryan who swallowed back tears. He couldn't take it. It wasn't Brendon, it wasn't his friends, it was him. It had always just been him. That's why he was always broken. He bit the knuckle of his thumb, debating what to do. The panic was settling in, and he knew he needed out, no matter what it would mean for him later on. Brendon rustled in his sleep, his eyes closed as he mumbled something simple, but it was still enough to make Ryan's heart flutter.
"Ry?" Ryan walked back into the bedroom, sitting back down on the bed with Brendon, he hushed him to sleep, rubbing his back, telling him that everything was fine, when it obviously wasn't. He waited until Brendon was asleep to stand, grabbing his keys and his jacket. He took one last fleeing glance at Brendon curled into Hobo, and he left, as quickly and silently as he could.
It was the first time Ryan left.
Sign up to rate and review this story