Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Skinny Love
It takes a lot of courage to walk into the house when Ryan’s dad is home.
He doesn’t understand why he is home, usually at this time of day things get busier.
It obviously can’t be good.
The fact that his mom is gone will just complicate things more.
Ryan scratches his head in contemplation in his car, wondering if it’s worth it. Maybe there’s hope that his dad is not in the mood, like he was yesterday.
Brendon doesn’t like the idea of his dad and Ryan even being in the same house, so doing this will may or may not make things worse. Can they even get worse, though? Brendon has shifts at the music store right now, and Ryan is supposed to come later.
He walks into the large house, looking into the large kitchen to see his dad leaning against the counter, staring at the floor.
“You know, George, I pay good money to keep this house clean with Lola and all, the least you could do is try to somewhat maintain it.” He spits, staring right up at him. “You honestly can’t do shit, can you?”
“I—I’m sorry D-dad.”
“Don’t stutter, that makes you sound weak,” He bites, “you are weak.”
Ryan freezes. “I can do stuff, Dad.”
“Like what? Play lousy instruments? Waste all hours with your friends? You may have gotten that scholarship, but your grades are falling.”
“They aren’t falling.”
“You can’t even admit it! Admit your faults Ryan, admit them!” His dad steps closer to him, Ryan automatically stepping back and running but his dad catches him, hands gripping his shoulders from behind as he throws him on the ground. “Seriously boy, don’t run away from me. You won’t get anywhere in life being so soft.”
“Please just d— mphf,“
His dad kicks him in the stomach as he speaks instantly making Ryan want to cry out as he kicks him in the side.
“St-sto—“
It’s hard for him to speak, making his dad get more enraged at his failure to be strong, kicking him in the jaw.
Ryan doesn’t stay anything; he doesn’t even feel like breathing after his dad just kicked him everywhere.
George grabs his keys and rushes out of the house, slamming the door behind him as Ryan tries to even out his breathing. He’s pretty sure he dislocated his jaw, hearing a faint pop while it was taking place, and he stumbles to the bathroom to put on makeup, which he’s running out of.
He does his best so Brendon doesn’t notice he’s wearing more than usual. It’s challenging to put on makeup while crying, it just wanting to come off right after he puts it on.
--
“I’m here,” Ryan announces as he walks into the shop, voice somewhat cracked. “Brendon get your ass over here.”
“What’s up?” Brendon asks without turning to him.
“I need you to fix my f-face.” Brendon turns his head around, leaving a shelf unattended.
His gaze drops immediately. Ryan has to wipe his eyes once again.
“Fuck,” Brendon whispers. Ryan can’t even look at Brendon in the eye. “I would have to reach into your mouth, you know.”
“You know how, just p-please.” Ryan says, thinking about how he saw Brendon at the hospital with his mom, learning procedures such as this one.
Brendon washes his hands in the bathroom, Ryan standing with him as tears are still in his eyes.
He doesn’t even know how it got like that; figuring maybe Ryan will just tell him later.
“I hope you don’t have a gag reflex.”
“...Do you?” Ryan smiles sheepishly.
“No.”
“Whore.” Ryan jokes, Brendon glaring at him.
“Want me to break your jaw? Because I can do that too.”
“Sorry, just please.”
Brendon nods and reaches into Ryan’s mouth, pressing his thumb downwards slowly on his molars. Ryan squints his eyes as a tear falls, “Don’t cry, okay? If I do it too fast I’ll hurt you and seeing you cry doesn't make things easier.” Brendon stops when he hears a large “pop”, quickly pulling his thumbs out.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Ryan mutters, looking at Brendon as he washes his hands again, being previously covered with Ryan's spit. “Ow,”
“I’ll take that as a thank you.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Better?”
“Better.” Ryan whispers, hugging Brendon from behind and digging his face into his neck, kissing him softly.
Brendon moves to face him, kissing him on the lips easily, not trying to hurt him because he’s sore.
Ryan pouts when he pulls away, then kissing him again, tongues going into each other’s mouths at one point. Brendon wraps his arms around Ryan’s waist, pulling him closer.
“Ouch,” Ryan whispers, pulling away with eyes wide. “I’m a bit… sore.”
“It’s not only your mouth huh.” Brendon whispers, pushing Ryan’s bangs to the side of his face, kissing him on the forehead.
Ryan can only nod.
--
Ryan hates putting on makeup. Well, eyeliner and shit is pretty cool, but concealer is another story. He has to spend about one-hundred dollars on few different products to get the tone of his skin, him standing in front of the makeup section looking frustrated as Brendon just stares at him.
Brendon feels bad he has to do this, wishing he could just see the real Ryan even though it is heart breaking. That’s pretty much why Ryan doesn’t want Brendon, or anyone, to see his bruised skin.
A girl approaches Ryan, Brendon automatically knowing who she is. “Christina…”
“Hey Brendon?” She narrows her eyes. Christina works here sometimes just for extra money, and she helps in the cosmetic section.
Ryan stares at her for a moment, then at Brendon.
“Today the Covergirl is buy-one-get-one-free on the concealer.”
“I need 'fit me' Maybelline.”
“Oh, it’s over here,” Christina points to it, then walking away looking confused to Brendon.
“Well, that was awkward.” Ryan says, grabbing the concealer and looking for powders.
“Christina is just… awkward, always.” Brendon laughs to himself.
Ryan smirks, looking at Brendon.
It’s funny, just yesterday he promised he’d stay away from Brendon. But in that same day they kissed and have been spending a lot of time with each other lately.
But Brendon has this… vibe. A vibe where he’s comfortable, accepting and sweet that makes Ryan want to be with him all the time. It’s hard for Ryan to admit it, and he hasn’t exactly yet.
They aren’t even officially together.
Brendon just feels better with Ryan. It has mostly been like that, especially in the beginning, but he feels like he means something to someone for once. Like when Ryan would hold Brendon and not let him move at night, or snuggle close to him—and the words Ryan says in his sleep. Oh the words.
After they kissed, they both accepted the fact that they should just both stick around.
“Want me to do your makeup one of these days?” Ryan asks, walking out of the store happily. Five new concealers, ten new eye pencils, and a shit load of other things.
“Uh,”
“Just the eyes, nothing major,”
“Is this your idea of fun?”
“Please? I never have done it on anyone but myself.”
“Uh,” Brendon stares at him as he drives, “you’re lucky you’re cute.”
“I’m sexy, actually.” Ryan interjects.
“I know.”
Ryan smiles at to him, teeth and all, Brendon reaching over to grab his hand.
Brendon’s somewhat nervous. Ryan’s mom just –died- for fuck sake. He’s trying to keep both of them busy so he doesn’t have to think about it. Even during music today both of the boys were drawing pictures to each other while they were supposed to be marking down time signatures. Ryan did most of that work, of course, he kind of owed Brendon for the song.
“We need to do homework. I saw your notebook, you have tests tomorrow.”
“It’s fucking May and my last year of high school. I already got a free ride to college so why bother now?”
“You’ll lose that scholarship and your dad,” Brendon stops himself, “at least help me out with my English essay.”
Ryan keeps himself from changing his expression. His dad already did do the stuff he thinks. “Okay, can we have food?”
“Yes,”
Brendon pulls into his driveway, noticing his parents are there. “Okay, um, my parents are home.”
“Oh,” Ryan says, thinking about how Brendon’s parents are not always very fair.
They walk into the normal sized house, greeted by a blonde, short woman that in reality looks nothing like Brendon. “Hello! Brendon, who’s this?”
“This is Ryan, my… friend.”
“Oh, okay. You guys going to do homework? It’s a school night.”
“Yeah, actually.”
Ryan jumps on Brendon’s bed, Brendon following as he lies next to him.
They just lay there, them being both tired from a full day of school and shopping.
“Is homework really necessary after all? I managed to go through sophomore year doing all my homework the class before.”
“I still do that,” Ryan laughs, turning to look at Brendon.
“Hey, Brendon?”
Brendon rolls to his side to look at Ryan. “Hm?”
“Do you think that… we could be together?” Ryan doesn’t break the eye contact, but Brendon does for a brief moment.
“Like… what?”
“We could be more than friends?”
“Boyfriends?”
“Yeah,” Ryan swallows, “boyfriends.”
Brendon’s a bit quiet. He loves him, he has always loved him. But what about the emotional trauma that they both went through?
“You can’t pull shit on me, Ryan Ross.”
“I won’t. What makes you think that?”
“The little stunt the other day saying that I’m nothing. You can’t tell—don’t do that to me. Ever.”
Ryan pulls Brendon closer to him, moving his hand down his chest where is scars are. Brendon winces a bit and rests his hand on Ryan’s cheek. Ryan takes note of the touch, one that he will want to remember.
“I won’t… hurt you. Again.” Ryan whispers as he plays with the hem of Brendon’s shirt. “I… I—“
Ryan doesn’t know what to say. He knows it’s inevitable that he’ll hurt him again somehow.
“Promise.”
It’s all surreal to Brendon.
Their eyes lock, Brendon kissing Ryan passionately, Ryan eagerly leaning into it. Brendon lets
Ryan’s tongue slide into Brendon’s mouth, exploring. Ryan can’t keep himself from smiling due to the fact that Brendon is his now… and he wants to enjoy himself.
Brendon pulls back. “I—“
“Shut up, boyfriend.” Ryan says, a small laugh escaping his lips as he kisses Brendon again.
--
Their fun had to eventually end because they did have to do homework, and Brendon forced Ryan to actually do his work.
They sit next to each other in music, anxious to get out as they squeeze close together, doing their separate work.
“I still don’t understand why we have to know fucking German terms.” Ryan huffs.
“It’s in some music.” Brendon stares at his paper confused.
“Langsam? Never seen that before. What did you say for that one?”
“Uh… slower.”
“Is that right?”
“Not sure.”
They both work as Ryan hears Mr. Nelson walk up behind him.
“Hey boys,” Mr. Nelson greets, Brendon jumping in his seat from not knowing he’s there, “sorry to startle you,” Brendon can only smile sheepishly. “I know you are both very close but I don’t want cheating in this class.”
“Sorry, Mr. Nelson.” Ryan sighs, not moving his seat.
“Well?” Mr. Nelson gets impatient and grabs the back of Brendon’s seat, pushing it farther to the right away from Ryan. “Better.”
It’s funny, nobody picked up Brendon and Ryan were boyfriends. Not even Spencer. Ryan sat with
Brendon at lunch today, Ryan’s friends being confused but accepting it. Him and his friends are going to another party, with Brendon invited.
Ryan would grab Brendon’s hands at some points, people staring but then thinking “wait, that’s Ryan Ross, the guy who has slept with so many girls; there’s no way he could be gay”.
A few more minutes of work, until Ryan’s phone starts buzzing and he panics. It’s his dad, probably. And if he doesn’t answer it he’s in for it twice as bad.
“May I be excused?” Ryan blurts, “I think I might throw up.” Other classmates turn to look at him with wide eyes, some "ew"'s escaping their lips.
“Go, now.” Mr. Nelson says, pointing to the door then looking back on a stack of papers.
Ryan runs to and opens his phone.”Hello?”
“Is this George?” A woman asks.
“Um… the third, yeah, why?”
“Your father is hospitalized at this moment.”
“Wh-what?”
“Is it true that your father has had problems with alcoholism in the past?” She asks, sounding preoccupied.
“Yeah… um.”
“He will be hospitalized until we know if he is going to be okay. Someone brought him here claiming they found him passed out at the bar on many occasions.”
“Okay.” Is all he could say.
“You can visit him, if you’d like. Until eight pm.”
“I have to go, bye.” Ryan says rushed. Running back into the classroom to Brendon. “He’s in the hospital, the fucking hospital, Bren.” He whispers into his ear. Brendon’s eyes widen as he turns to him.
“Should I say sorry?”
“When he dies he can rot in hell for all I care. If that bullshit even exists.” Ryan looks back at his paper.
“Ryan,” Brendon stares at him. “I know what he’s done to you. But he is still your father.”
“Just forget it, okay?”
Brendon nods and continues his work.
He can’t help but think “Why does Ryan have to be scared to talk to me”. Brendon already knows about what goes on, but he never got the full explanation to the dislocated jaw and the bruises Brendon can tell he has from a failure of proper shading on his arms.
Brendon can’t help but care for him, that’s all.
--
The drive back to Ryan’s is mostly silent until Ryan turns on the radio.
“So… people didn’t notice today.”
“We only held hands, briefly, it’s not like we were making out of something.” Brendon smiles, kind of wishing they were.
“You know how hard it is to contain myself like that! Dude, did you really have to wear those jeans today?”
“Do you like them?”
“Yes, probably a little too much,” Ryan puts his hand on Brendon’s thigh, pinching at the tight fabric.
“How long did these take to put on?”
“Long enough to be worth it.” Brendon puts his hand over Ryan’s, squeezing it.
Ryan pulls into the driveway, staring at the house once again as Brendon watches.
Ryan really hates the man who owns the place. It makes him not even want to live there.
“He’s not there, Ryan.” Ryan continues to stare blankly at it.
“H-he’s not there.” Ryan whispers, breath hitched.
Brendon never really knows what to say after Ryan repeats what he said, never really has.
“It’s going to take time, you know.”
“Yeah,” Ryan nods.
Ryan knows his dad isn’t going to make it, he should’ve been dead months ago; the only logical thing is for him to die.
Maybe it’s for the better.
--
A/N
HELLO LOVELIES! I have some goodies for you today :3.
I have Ryan's house, because I was curious on how I wanted Ryan's abode to look like, here it is: http://us.123rf.com/400wm/400/400/lmphot/lmphot1004/lmphot100400844/6761279-luxury-brick-and-stone-home-with-turret.jpg
Pretty nice, no? I think I made a good choice in my real estate... or... uh... fic estate. Whatever, I'm not funny. Don't judge me.
If you want to see Brendon's just let me know and I'll go house shopping again.
I hope you guys liked it and I'm soso sorry for keeping you waiting, the reviews were BEYOND sweet and I love you all. Rate and Review again? Pretty please?
Letting you know there is a reason every chapter is a song title, it's actually it's own little soundtrack, so feel free to listen to them.
He doesn’t understand why he is home, usually at this time of day things get busier.
It obviously can’t be good.
The fact that his mom is gone will just complicate things more.
Ryan scratches his head in contemplation in his car, wondering if it’s worth it. Maybe there’s hope that his dad is not in the mood, like he was yesterday.
Brendon doesn’t like the idea of his dad and Ryan even being in the same house, so doing this will may or may not make things worse. Can they even get worse, though? Brendon has shifts at the music store right now, and Ryan is supposed to come later.
He walks into the large house, looking into the large kitchen to see his dad leaning against the counter, staring at the floor.
“You know, George, I pay good money to keep this house clean with Lola and all, the least you could do is try to somewhat maintain it.” He spits, staring right up at him. “You honestly can’t do shit, can you?”
“I—I’m sorry D-dad.”
“Don’t stutter, that makes you sound weak,” He bites, “you are weak.”
Ryan freezes. “I can do stuff, Dad.”
“Like what? Play lousy instruments? Waste all hours with your friends? You may have gotten that scholarship, but your grades are falling.”
“They aren’t falling.”
“You can’t even admit it! Admit your faults Ryan, admit them!” His dad steps closer to him, Ryan automatically stepping back and running but his dad catches him, hands gripping his shoulders from behind as he throws him on the ground. “Seriously boy, don’t run away from me. You won’t get anywhere in life being so soft.”
“Please just d— mphf,“
His dad kicks him in the stomach as he speaks instantly making Ryan want to cry out as he kicks him in the side.
“St-sto—“
It’s hard for him to speak, making his dad get more enraged at his failure to be strong, kicking him in the jaw.
Ryan doesn’t stay anything; he doesn’t even feel like breathing after his dad just kicked him everywhere.
George grabs his keys and rushes out of the house, slamming the door behind him as Ryan tries to even out his breathing. He’s pretty sure he dislocated his jaw, hearing a faint pop while it was taking place, and he stumbles to the bathroom to put on makeup, which he’s running out of.
He does his best so Brendon doesn’t notice he’s wearing more than usual. It’s challenging to put on makeup while crying, it just wanting to come off right after he puts it on.
--
“I’m here,” Ryan announces as he walks into the shop, voice somewhat cracked. “Brendon get your ass over here.”
“What’s up?” Brendon asks without turning to him.
“I need you to fix my f-face.” Brendon turns his head around, leaving a shelf unattended.
His gaze drops immediately. Ryan has to wipe his eyes once again.
“Fuck,” Brendon whispers. Ryan can’t even look at Brendon in the eye. “I would have to reach into your mouth, you know.”
“You know how, just p-please.” Ryan says, thinking about how he saw Brendon at the hospital with his mom, learning procedures such as this one.
Brendon washes his hands in the bathroom, Ryan standing with him as tears are still in his eyes.
He doesn’t even know how it got like that; figuring maybe Ryan will just tell him later.
“I hope you don’t have a gag reflex.”
“...Do you?” Ryan smiles sheepishly.
“No.”
“Whore.” Ryan jokes, Brendon glaring at him.
“Want me to break your jaw? Because I can do that too.”
“Sorry, just please.”
Brendon nods and reaches into Ryan’s mouth, pressing his thumb downwards slowly on his molars. Ryan squints his eyes as a tear falls, “Don’t cry, okay? If I do it too fast I’ll hurt you and seeing you cry doesn't make things easier.” Brendon stops when he hears a large “pop”, quickly pulling his thumbs out.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Ryan mutters, looking at Brendon as he washes his hands again, being previously covered with Ryan's spit. “Ow,”
“I’ll take that as a thank you.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Better?”
“Better.” Ryan whispers, hugging Brendon from behind and digging his face into his neck, kissing him softly.
Brendon moves to face him, kissing him on the lips easily, not trying to hurt him because he’s sore.
Ryan pouts when he pulls away, then kissing him again, tongues going into each other’s mouths at one point. Brendon wraps his arms around Ryan’s waist, pulling him closer.
“Ouch,” Ryan whispers, pulling away with eyes wide. “I’m a bit… sore.”
“It’s not only your mouth huh.” Brendon whispers, pushing Ryan’s bangs to the side of his face, kissing him on the forehead.
Ryan can only nod.
--
Ryan hates putting on makeup. Well, eyeliner and shit is pretty cool, but concealer is another story. He has to spend about one-hundred dollars on few different products to get the tone of his skin, him standing in front of the makeup section looking frustrated as Brendon just stares at him.
Brendon feels bad he has to do this, wishing he could just see the real Ryan even though it is heart breaking. That’s pretty much why Ryan doesn’t want Brendon, or anyone, to see his bruised skin.
A girl approaches Ryan, Brendon automatically knowing who she is. “Christina…”
“Hey Brendon?” She narrows her eyes. Christina works here sometimes just for extra money, and she helps in the cosmetic section.
Ryan stares at her for a moment, then at Brendon.
“Today the Covergirl is buy-one-get-one-free on the concealer.”
“I need 'fit me' Maybelline.”
“Oh, it’s over here,” Christina points to it, then walking away looking confused to Brendon.
“Well, that was awkward.” Ryan says, grabbing the concealer and looking for powders.
“Christina is just… awkward, always.” Brendon laughs to himself.
Ryan smirks, looking at Brendon.
It’s funny, just yesterday he promised he’d stay away from Brendon. But in that same day they kissed and have been spending a lot of time with each other lately.
But Brendon has this… vibe. A vibe where he’s comfortable, accepting and sweet that makes Ryan want to be with him all the time. It’s hard for Ryan to admit it, and he hasn’t exactly yet.
They aren’t even officially together.
Brendon just feels better with Ryan. It has mostly been like that, especially in the beginning, but he feels like he means something to someone for once. Like when Ryan would hold Brendon and not let him move at night, or snuggle close to him—and the words Ryan says in his sleep. Oh the words.
After they kissed, they both accepted the fact that they should just both stick around.
“Want me to do your makeup one of these days?” Ryan asks, walking out of the store happily. Five new concealers, ten new eye pencils, and a shit load of other things.
“Uh,”
“Just the eyes, nothing major,”
“Is this your idea of fun?”
“Please? I never have done it on anyone but myself.”
“Uh,” Brendon stares at him as he drives, “you’re lucky you’re cute.”
“I’m sexy, actually.” Ryan interjects.
“I know.”
Ryan smiles at to him, teeth and all, Brendon reaching over to grab his hand.
Brendon’s somewhat nervous. Ryan’s mom just –died- for fuck sake. He’s trying to keep both of them busy so he doesn’t have to think about it. Even during music today both of the boys were drawing pictures to each other while they were supposed to be marking down time signatures. Ryan did most of that work, of course, he kind of owed Brendon for the song.
“We need to do homework. I saw your notebook, you have tests tomorrow.”
“It’s fucking May and my last year of high school. I already got a free ride to college so why bother now?”
“You’ll lose that scholarship and your dad,” Brendon stops himself, “at least help me out with my English essay.”
Ryan keeps himself from changing his expression. His dad already did do the stuff he thinks. “Okay, can we have food?”
“Yes,”
Brendon pulls into his driveway, noticing his parents are there. “Okay, um, my parents are home.”
“Oh,” Ryan says, thinking about how Brendon’s parents are not always very fair.
They walk into the normal sized house, greeted by a blonde, short woman that in reality looks nothing like Brendon. “Hello! Brendon, who’s this?”
“This is Ryan, my… friend.”
“Oh, okay. You guys going to do homework? It’s a school night.”
“Yeah, actually.”
Ryan jumps on Brendon’s bed, Brendon following as he lies next to him.
They just lay there, them being both tired from a full day of school and shopping.
“Is homework really necessary after all? I managed to go through sophomore year doing all my homework the class before.”
“I still do that,” Ryan laughs, turning to look at Brendon.
“Hey, Brendon?”
Brendon rolls to his side to look at Ryan. “Hm?”
“Do you think that… we could be together?” Ryan doesn’t break the eye contact, but Brendon does for a brief moment.
“Like… what?”
“We could be more than friends?”
“Boyfriends?”
“Yeah,” Ryan swallows, “boyfriends.”
Brendon’s a bit quiet. He loves him, he has always loved him. But what about the emotional trauma that they both went through?
“You can’t pull shit on me, Ryan Ross.”
“I won’t. What makes you think that?”
“The little stunt the other day saying that I’m nothing. You can’t tell—don’t do that to me. Ever.”
Ryan pulls Brendon closer to him, moving his hand down his chest where is scars are. Brendon winces a bit and rests his hand on Ryan’s cheek. Ryan takes note of the touch, one that he will want to remember.
“I won’t… hurt you. Again.” Ryan whispers as he plays with the hem of Brendon’s shirt. “I… I—“
Ryan doesn’t know what to say. He knows it’s inevitable that he’ll hurt him again somehow.
“Promise.”
It’s all surreal to Brendon.
Their eyes lock, Brendon kissing Ryan passionately, Ryan eagerly leaning into it. Brendon lets
Ryan’s tongue slide into Brendon’s mouth, exploring. Ryan can’t keep himself from smiling due to the fact that Brendon is his now… and he wants to enjoy himself.
Brendon pulls back. “I—“
“Shut up, boyfriend.” Ryan says, a small laugh escaping his lips as he kisses Brendon again.
--
Their fun had to eventually end because they did have to do homework, and Brendon forced Ryan to actually do his work.
They sit next to each other in music, anxious to get out as they squeeze close together, doing their separate work.
“I still don’t understand why we have to know fucking German terms.” Ryan huffs.
“It’s in some music.” Brendon stares at his paper confused.
“Langsam? Never seen that before. What did you say for that one?”
“Uh… slower.”
“Is that right?”
“Not sure.”
They both work as Ryan hears Mr. Nelson walk up behind him.
“Hey boys,” Mr. Nelson greets, Brendon jumping in his seat from not knowing he’s there, “sorry to startle you,” Brendon can only smile sheepishly. “I know you are both very close but I don’t want cheating in this class.”
“Sorry, Mr. Nelson.” Ryan sighs, not moving his seat.
“Well?” Mr. Nelson gets impatient and grabs the back of Brendon’s seat, pushing it farther to the right away from Ryan. “Better.”
It’s funny, nobody picked up Brendon and Ryan were boyfriends. Not even Spencer. Ryan sat with
Brendon at lunch today, Ryan’s friends being confused but accepting it. Him and his friends are going to another party, with Brendon invited.
Ryan would grab Brendon’s hands at some points, people staring but then thinking “wait, that’s Ryan Ross, the guy who has slept with so many girls; there’s no way he could be gay”.
A few more minutes of work, until Ryan’s phone starts buzzing and he panics. It’s his dad, probably. And if he doesn’t answer it he’s in for it twice as bad.
“May I be excused?” Ryan blurts, “I think I might throw up.” Other classmates turn to look at him with wide eyes, some "ew"'s escaping their lips.
“Go, now.” Mr. Nelson says, pointing to the door then looking back on a stack of papers.
Ryan runs to and opens his phone.”Hello?”
“Is this George?” A woman asks.
“Um… the third, yeah, why?”
“Your father is hospitalized at this moment.”
“Wh-what?”
“Is it true that your father has had problems with alcoholism in the past?” She asks, sounding preoccupied.
“Yeah… um.”
“He will be hospitalized until we know if he is going to be okay. Someone brought him here claiming they found him passed out at the bar on many occasions.”
“Okay.” Is all he could say.
“You can visit him, if you’d like. Until eight pm.”
“I have to go, bye.” Ryan says rushed. Running back into the classroom to Brendon. “He’s in the hospital, the fucking hospital, Bren.” He whispers into his ear. Brendon’s eyes widen as he turns to him.
“Should I say sorry?”
“When he dies he can rot in hell for all I care. If that bullshit even exists.” Ryan looks back at his paper.
“Ryan,” Brendon stares at him. “I know what he’s done to you. But he is still your father.”
“Just forget it, okay?”
Brendon nods and continues his work.
He can’t help but think “Why does Ryan have to be scared to talk to me”. Brendon already knows about what goes on, but he never got the full explanation to the dislocated jaw and the bruises Brendon can tell he has from a failure of proper shading on his arms.
Brendon can’t help but care for him, that’s all.
--
The drive back to Ryan’s is mostly silent until Ryan turns on the radio.
“So… people didn’t notice today.”
“We only held hands, briefly, it’s not like we were making out of something.” Brendon smiles, kind of wishing they were.
“You know how hard it is to contain myself like that! Dude, did you really have to wear those jeans today?”
“Do you like them?”
“Yes, probably a little too much,” Ryan puts his hand on Brendon’s thigh, pinching at the tight fabric.
“How long did these take to put on?”
“Long enough to be worth it.” Brendon puts his hand over Ryan’s, squeezing it.
Ryan pulls into the driveway, staring at the house once again as Brendon watches.
Ryan really hates the man who owns the place. It makes him not even want to live there.
“He’s not there, Ryan.” Ryan continues to stare blankly at it.
“H-he’s not there.” Ryan whispers, breath hitched.
Brendon never really knows what to say after Ryan repeats what he said, never really has.
“It’s going to take time, you know.”
“Yeah,” Ryan nods.
Ryan knows his dad isn’t going to make it, he should’ve been dead months ago; the only logical thing is for him to die.
Maybe it’s for the better.
--
A/N
HELLO LOVELIES! I have some goodies for you today :3.
I have Ryan's house, because I was curious on how I wanted Ryan's abode to look like, here it is: http://us.123rf.com/400wm/400/400/lmphot/lmphot1004/lmphot100400844/6761279-luxury-brick-and-stone-home-with-turret.jpg
Pretty nice, no? I think I made a good choice in my real estate... or... uh... fic estate. Whatever, I'm not funny. Don't judge me.
If you want to see Brendon's just let me know and I'll go house shopping again.
I hope you guys liked it and I'm soso sorry for keeping you waiting, the reviews were BEYOND sweet and I love you all. Rate and Review again? Pretty please?
Letting you know there is a reason every chapter is a song title, it's actually it's own little soundtrack, so feel free to listen to them.
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