Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Escort Me?
5. The Midterm
4 reviews((NON MPREG VERSION!!!!)) Ryan feels stupid for getting sick and decides to pay Brendon a visit despite his brain's intentions.
1Exciting
A/N: This is not the mpreg version. Just making sure you all know that. There is no mpreg in this version of the story!
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Chapter 5: The Midterm
It was about a week before I felt I could face Brendon again. It’s a whole new level of embarrassment if you puke after a blowjob. He was probably disgusted by me. Maybe I shouldn’t go back. I ran the ideas through my head as I sat on my bed. Yeah, it’d be better not to go back. Although I’m pretty sure it wasn’t food poisoning at this point.
I’d been sick all week, so it probably didn’t have anything to do with that Mexican place. I must have just gotten a stomach bug. I’d been stuck in bed the entire week. I had started to feel better about a day or two ago. But I was still pretty sure I didn’t want to face Brendon. Maybe after another week or so.
And yet, I found myself knocking on his door. It opened and he raised an eyebrow, “I wasn’t sure you were coming back. But here you are. Come on in,” he moved to the side and I stepped in, “After you threw up, I was actually pretty worried about you. I was scared you were pregnant or something,” he joked, “Although you were probably right. It was food poisoning, right?” and when I just raised an eyebrow, he stared at me weirdly, “You’re not… pregnant, right?”
I laughed, “No. I think I just came down with a little bit of a flu. But I’m pretty sure I’m okay now though.”
“Well, do you know what this lesson is?”
“Uh… Positions…?”
He laughed, “No. Your midterm. Do you remember everything I taught you?”
My eyes widened. A midterm? What was this, a college class? I laughed a little awkwardly, “Well uh… I just… came to pay you for my last lesson. And to apologize for throwing up.”
“Oh. Well, while you’re here, why not have your midterm?” he closed the door behind me and led me over to the couch, “Start off with turning me on. At least try that. And I’ll grade you based on performance,” he grinned.
I bit my lip, “I didn’t study.”
He laughed, “Well, do you have anyone to study with?”
“Well, no…”
“Yeah, so I don’t expect you to study. Come on, turn me on.”
Make me come alive, come on and turn me on, turn me on, turn me on. Why did I randomly get a Nicki Minaj song stuck in my head? I was stalling. At least my head was. Why was I nervous about a test though? It’s not like this actually meant anything. So what if I failed? What did that mean? Nothing, nada.
“Okay. Turn you on. I can do that…” I climbed on top of him and pulled his shirt off over his head and leaned down to kiss his neck, placing my hands on his hips. I started to suck at the skin. I swear, this was like riding a bike. I can’t forget how to turn him on. I kept rubbing his hips as I sucked and nibbled at the skin. When he moaned, I grinned.
And then I pulled away and gasped and he looked at me, “What? I’m not even hard yet.”
“I-I-I-I-“ I put my hand over my mouth and got off his lap. I ran to the bathroom and puked into the toilet. I thought I was better. But apparently not. I heard the door open and soon felt his hand on my back. I finally finished and pressed my head against the cool porcelain, “I think I’m sick.”
“Yeah… boner kill,” he joked, “Here, I’ll take care of you. Have you done anything to get better? Medicine? Tea? Anything?” he asked, helping me up. He led me into his bedroom and rested me on the bed. The last time he did this was before I gave him a blowjob and I threw up. Then I realized… Before that time, I’d never even been into his room before.
Once I was under the covers, he put his hand to my forehead. I blushed, “You’re… an escort. You really don’t have to. This is more something a boyfriend would do…” I whispered quietly.
He took his hand off my forehead, “First of all, if you blush, it’ll make it seem like you have a fever when you don’t. And, well… Pretend I’m your boyfriend then, since you don’t have one. And then I don’t have to be once you’re better.”
I gasped and looked at him, “You want to… pretend to be my boyfriend? Why would you want to do that?”
“Well, you don’t have one. And do you have anyone else to take care of you?”
I was silent. He was right. I had no one to take care of me. No one cared about me, not really. My parents have hated me since they found out I didn’t like girls. And I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve gone on dates, but I’ve never been in a relationship before.
“Now, lay back and let me take care of you. And no you don’t have to pay me for this. I don’t have anything better to do right now. Did you want some soup?”
“Uh… I’m just afraid I’m going to throw it back up…”
“Well, if you do, I’ll make you more,” he grinned. He kissed my forehead and got up from where he was sitting next to me. He walked out and closed the door behind him.
Brendon’s POV
I closed the door and leaned against it. You want to… pretend to be my boyfriend? No. I didn’t want to pretend. I wouldn’t tell him this, but I’d stopped seeing my other clients. I wasn’t really an escort anymore. My clients were pissed, but I was done. I wasn’t an escort anymore.
He was the only person I didn’t tell that I’d ended that career. And now he was sick. And I wanted to take care of him. I wish I could tell him that I cared about him, but I couldn’t. He was going to get married, whether I wanted him to or not. And there was legitimately nothing I could do about it. The very thought of that saddened me. I would never be able to be with him the way I wanted to be.
With a sigh, I pushed off the door and made my way into the kitchen. I made some chicken noodle soup. I put some into a bowl and went back into the bedroom with a tray. On it was the soup, a glass of orange juice, and a glass of ginger ale. I went over and set it down on his lap, “Here you go.”
He looked at it and up at me, “You make a good fake boyfriend,” he laughed.
I gave him a fake smile, something I’d sadly become really good at, “Yeah, so I’ve been told,” I lay down next to him, “I can feed you~” and I actually kind of wanted to… because I didn’t want to be a fake boyfriend. I wish I could tell him that, but I couldn’t. Ever since that first night we spent together, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even when I was with my other clients, I thought of him. I had convinced myself that I just lusted after him.
But who am I kidding? It wasn’t lust. I don’t think it ever was just lust. I’m not saying that I’m in love with him. But it’s not something I’ve ever felt. I liked him. That, in itself, was hard to admit to myself. But I had. A week ago. A week ago, when he threw up, I got really scared and worried about him. I couldn’t stop thinking that he was really sick. That he needed the hospital. Maybe he had stomach cancer or something. I was so worried.
And then I didn’t talk to him for a week. And I knew, of course, that he wasn’t dead. But every scenario ran through my head. Regardless of what my brain kept saying. So when I saw him, I was really hoping it had been food poisoning. But he was still sick. I didn’t know what it was. A stomach flu, maybe? That wasn’t fatal.
I watched as he slurped at the soup and I just lay there. I couldn’t help myself from wrapping an arm around him. When he was done eating, I got up and picked up the tray. I put it into the kitchen and came back. I climbed into bed with him and pulled him close to me. I kissed the top of his head, “Just… rest. Sleep if you need to. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
But he pushed away from me and got up, “Okay, what are you playing at?”
I was dumbfounded. Right. I was an escort. I wasn’t supposed to do things like that. I sighed, “Sorry. If you want to leave, go ahead… I can’t stop you. I just thought you’d want someone to help you while you’re sick,” I sat up on the bed and rubbed my neck, “I just hope you feel better,” I slipped out of bed and made my way to the door. I opened it for him.
He followed me and went out the door. He turned to look at me, “I’d love a boyfriend… not a fake one,” and he left. I sighed and closed the door behind him and turned around, sliding down it. I stared at my hands. Why couldn’t I just tell him that I wasn’t an escort anymore? Right… He was getting married and it wasn’t my place to interfere. If I told him I wasn’t an escort anymore, I’d never see him again.
Ryan’s POV
Something was seriously up. Why was Brendon acting that way? I didn’t want a fake boyfriend. I really didn’t. It wasn’t fair to me. Besides, I’d started to fall for Brendon. And a fake boyfriend? That’s not something that would be good for me. I was getting married to some snobby bitch. Brendon was just some escort who took my virginity. That’s it.
I was about to leave before it hit me. I stopped walking. Why was I saying no? Why was I saying no to him? Even if it was just a fake relationship, that was more than I’d ever had. I turned back around and went back to his apartment. I knocked several times until the door opened.
“What? Come to tell me that I’m nothing more than an escort? That I’m not fit to be a fake boyfriend to you? Or… oh right. You didn’t pay me for last time, right? What is it? Come up with an excuse. What are you doing here?” his voice was so harsh.
I winced, “I came back because I felt bad for what I said.”
“Oh, wow. So you feel bad for me? Oh, okay, all’s forgiven. You know what? That’s just it. Don’t come back. I’ve given up so much for you and you don’t see anything. You’re the most oblivious freak I’ve ever met. I even gave up being an ESCORT for you. But I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to risk never seeing you again. But now I don’t even care. So get out. Get the fuck out of my apartment. I never want to see you again,” and he closed the door in my face.
I’d fucked up everything…
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A/N: I hope you enjoyed! REMEMBER! This is the NON MPREG VERSION! It has nothing to do with Chapter 5: Sickness. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. After three reviews, I'll update the next mpreg chapter! :)
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Chapter 5: The Midterm
It was about a week before I felt I could face Brendon again. It’s a whole new level of embarrassment if you puke after a blowjob. He was probably disgusted by me. Maybe I shouldn’t go back. I ran the ideas through my head as I sat on my bed. Yeah, it’d be better not to go back. Although I’m pretty sure it wasn’t food poisoning at this point.
I’d been sick all week, so it probably didn’t have anything to do with that Mexican place. I must have just gotten a stomach bug. I’d been stuck in bed the entire week. I had started to feel better about a day or two ago. But I was still pretty sure I didn’t want to face Brendon. Maybe after another week or so.
And yet, I found myself knocking on his door. It opened and he raised an eyebrow, “I wasn’t sure you were coming back. But here you are. Come on in,” he moved to the side and I stepped in, “After you threw up, I was actually pretty worried about you. I was scared you were pregnant or something,” he joked, “Although you were probably right. It was food poisoning, right?” and when I just raised an eyebrow, he stared at me weirdly, “You’re not… pregnant, right?”
I laughed, “No. I think I just came down with a little bit of a flu. But I’m pretty sure I’m okay now though.”
“Well, do you know what this lesson is?”
“Uh… Positions…?”
He laughed, “No. Your midterm. Do you remember everything I taught you?”
My eyes widened. A midterm? What was this, a college class? I laughed a little awkwardly, “Well uh… I just… came to pay you for my last lesson. And to apologize for throwing up.”
“Oh. Well, while you’re here, why not have your midterm?” he closed the door behind me and led me over to the couch, “Start off with turning me on. At least try that. And I’ll grade you based on performance,” he grinned.
I bit my lip, “I didn’t study.”
He laughed, “Well, do you have anyone to study with?”
“Well, no…”
“Yeah, so I don’t expect you to study. Come on, turn me on.”
Make me come alive, come on and turn me on, turn me on, turn me on. Why did I randomly get a Nicki Minaj song stuck in my head? I was stalling. At least my head was. Why was I nervous about a test though? It’s not like this actually meant anything. So what if I failed? What did that mean? Nothing, nada.
“Okay. Turn you on. I can do that…” I climbed on top of him and pulled his shirt off over his head and leaned down to kiss his neck, placing my hands on his hips. I started to suck at the skin. I swear, this was like riding a bike. I can’t forget how to turn him on. I kept rubbing his hips as I sucked and nibbled at the skin. When he moaned, I grinned.
And then I pulled away and gasped and he looked at me, “What? I’m not even hard yet.”
“I-I-I-I-“ I put my hand over my mouth and got off his lap. I ran to the bathroom and puked into the toilet. I thought I was better. But apparently not. I heard the door open and soon felt his hand on my back. I finally finished and pressed my head against the cool porcelain, “I think I’m sick.”
“Yeah… boner kill,” he joked, “Here, I’ll take care of you. Have you done anything to get better? Medicine? Tea? Anything?” he asked, helping me up. He led me into his bedroom and rested me on the bed. The last time he did this was before I gave him a blowjob and I threw up. Then I realized… Before that time, I’d never even been into his room before.
Once I was under the covers, he put his hand to my forehead. I blushed, “You’re… an escort. You really don’t have to. This is more something a boyfriend would do…” I whispered quietly.
He took his hand off my forehead, “First of all, if you blush, it’ll make it seem like you have a fever when you don’t. And, well… Pretend I’m your boyfriend then, since you don’t have one. And then I don’t have to be once you’re better.”
I gasped and looked at him, “You want to… pretend to be my boyfriend? Why would you want to do that?”
“Well, you don’t have one. And do you have anyone else to take care of you?”
I was silent. He was right. I had no one to take care of me. No one cared about me, not really. My parents have hated me since they found out I didn’t like girls. And I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve gone on dates, but I’ve never been in a relationship before.
“Now, lay back and let me take care of you. And no you don’t have to pay me for this. I don’t have anything better to do right now. Did you want some soup?”
“Uh… I’m just afraid I’m going to throw it back up…”
“Well, if you do, I’ll make you more,” he grinned. He kissed my forehead and got up from where he was sitting next to me. He walked out and closed the door behind him.
Brendon’s POV
I closed the door and leaned against it. You want to… pretend to be my boyfriend? No. I didn’t want to pretend. I wouldn’t tell him this, but I’d stopped seeing my other clients. I wasn’t really an escort anymore. My clients were pissed, but I was done. I wasn’t an escort anymore.
He was the only person I didn’t tell that I’d ended that career. And now he was sick. And I wanted to take care of him. I wish I could tell him that I cared about him, but I couldn’t. He was going to get married, whether I wanted him to or not. And there was legitimately nothing I could do about it. The very thought of that saddened me. I would never be able to be with him the way I wanted to be.
With a sigh, I pushed off the door and made my way into the kitchen. I made some chicken noodle soup. I put some into a bowl and went back into the bedroom with a tray. On it was the soup, a glass of orange juice, and a glass of ginger ale. I went over and set it down on his lap, “Here you go.”
He looked at it and up at me, “You make a good fake boyfriend,” he laughed.
I gave him a fake smile, something I’d sadly become really good at, “Yeah, so I’ve been told,” I lay down next to him, “I can feed you~” and I actually kind of wanted to… because I didn’t want to be a fake boyfriend. I wish I could tell him that, but I couldn’t. Ever since that first night we spent together, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even when I was with my other clients, I thought of him. I had convinced myself that I just lusted after him.
But who am I kidding? It wasn’t lust. I don’t think it ever was just lust. I’m not saying that I’m in love with him. But it’s not something I’ve ever felt. I liked him. That, in itself, was hard to admit to myself. But I had. A week ago. A week ago, when he threw up, I got really scared and worried about him. I couldn’t stop thinking that he was really sick. That he needed the hospital. Maybe he had stomach cancer or something. I was so worried.
And then I didn’t talk to him for a week. And I knew, of course, that he wasn’t dead. But every scenario ran through my head. Regardless of what my brain kept saying. So when I saw him, I was really hoping it had been food poisoning. But he was still sick. I didn’t know what it was. A stomach flu, maybe? That wasn’t fatal.
I watched as he slurped at the soup and I just lay there. I couldn’t help myself from wrapping an arm around him. When he was done eating, I got up and picked up the tray. I put it into the kitchen and came back. I climbed into bed with him and pulled him close to me. I kissed the top of his head, “Just… rest. Sleep if you need to. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
But he pushed away from me and got up, “Okay, what are you playing at?”
I was dumbfounded. Right. I was an escort. I wasn’t supposed to do things like that. I sighed, “Sorry. If you want to leave, go ahead… I can’t stop you. I just thought you’d want someone to help you while you’re sick,” I sat up on the bed and rubbed my neck, “I just hope you feel better,” I slipped out of bed and made my way to the door. I opened it for him.
He followed me and went out the door. He turned to look at me, “I’d love a boyfriend… not a fake one,” and he left. I sighed and closed the door behind him and turned around, sliding down it. I stared at my hands. Why couldn’t I just tell him that I wasn’t an escort anymore? Right… He was getting married and it wasn’t my place to interfere. If I told him I wasn’t an escort anymore, I’d never see him again.
Ryan’s POV
Something was seriously up. Why was Brendon acting that way? I didn’t want a fake boyfriend. I really didn’t. It wasn’t fair to me. Besides, I’d started to fall for Brendon. And a fake boyfriend? That’s not something that would be good for me. I was getting married to some snobby bitch. Brendon was just some escort who took my virginity. That’s it.
I was about to leave before it hit me. I stopped walking. Why was I saying no? Why was I saying no to him? Even if it was just a fake relationship, that was more than I’d ever had. I turned back around and went back to his apartment. I knocked several times until the door opened.
“What? Come to tell me that I’m nothing more than an escort? That I’m not fit to be a fake boyfriend to you? Or… oh right. You didn’t pay me for last time, right? What is it? Come up with an excuse. What are you doing here?” his voice was so harsh.
I winced, “I came back because I felt bad for what I said.”
“Oh, wow. So you feel bad for me? Oh, okay, all’s forgiven. You know what? That’s just it. Don’t come back. I’ve given up so much for you and you don’t see anything. You’re the most oblivious freak I’ve ever met. I even gave up being an ESCORT for you. But I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to risk never seeing you again. But now I don’t even care. So get out. Get the fuck out of my apartment. I never want to see you again,” and he closed the door in my face.
I’d fucked up everything…
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A/N: I hope you enjoyed! REMEMBER! This is the NON MPREG VERSION! It has nothing to do with Chapter 5: Sickness. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. After three reviews, I'll update the next mpreg chapter! :)
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