FicWad

“Ryan?” A warm hand touched my cheek and I curled into them, hoping it was Brendon. But it wasn’t. I flicked open my eyes.
“Spence..?” I mumbled. Spencer laughed weakly.
“Yes, it’s me. Now come on. We need to move you.” Spencer put his arms under my waist and hauled me upwards.
“W-where are we going?” I sniffled. My head felt heavy and my nose was blocked.
“To your bed. You’re ill, you idiot.” Spencer hummed, lovingly, carrying me through to my bedroom. I could see exactly where Dallon had been lied. On my side.
“I don’t want to go in my bed,” I whined, wriggling from his grip. Spencer sighed.
“Come on, don’t be silly.” He rolled his eyes, dropping me gently into my bed, luckily onto Brendon’s side. “I’ll come check on you in a bit.”
“Wait,” I called, sleepily. “Where’s Brendon?” I sniffled through my cold.
“He’s out with Dallon. Meeting Dallon’s parents, I believe.”
I nearly cried right there.
Instead I just waited until Spencer had shut the door.
I turned over, digging my fingers into Brendon’s pillow, pushing my face against it. It still smelt like him, whereas my side smelt like sex and Dallon. I hated it.
Brendon’s side smelt sweet and comforting, like home. I buried my face in his sheets and started crying again, harder than I originally imagined, sobbing open mouthed against his warm sheets. My head was aching up a storm and I could barely move – every time I got a little closer to my own side I nearly wretched in the thought of them; moving in one another as one atop of my own sheets.
My eyes stung and burnt from my sore tears, and my nose was running from illness, and everything was just going to hell.
This idea made everything go to hell.

It must have been a few hours before Dallon and Brendon returned. Brendon wasn’t drunk this time – though they were obviously still pouncing on one another. Dallon entered, whilst Brendon was elsewhere in the building.
“Get out,” Dallon said, his eyes on me in the bed. “We need the bed now.”
“But I’m sick..” I protested, weakly, rubbing my eyes. “Can’t you go one night without fucking each other?” I hissed, feebly.
“No, and if you were me, I’m sure you’d feel the same way.”
Couldn’t argue there.
“But I’m ill,” I sniffled, sickly. Dallon didn’t seem to care. He glared at me.
“Just get out or we’ll just do it next to you.”
That worked.
I clambered out of the bed, ducking to the floor and picking up a wooly jumper, tucking it under my shirt. Dallon watched me as I left, and I trudged towards the sofa, lying down again and shutting my eyes, keeping the jumper tucked behind me. Brendon strode past but he never noticed my presence – once the door to our bedroom was shut all that could be heard was noises that I wished I was inducing him to make.
Half an hour or so passed before Jon came past, heading towards his bedroom, before pausing in front of me. He knelt down.
“Did they kick you out?” He asked, softly. I nodded, and shrugged, defensively.
“I don’t – I don’t care.” I sniffed, my cold taking it’s toll. Jon sighed.
“I’ll get you some blankets.”

Jon returned later with two pillows and some blankets. He tucked one pillow under my head, a few blankets over my body and around me, and left another pillow to block the noises out. He patted my shoulder gently – and the way he nodded at me – I thought that maybe, just – just maybe, he understood.
And then the noises came and they were even louder than before. I pushed the pillow over my ears until the noise had died out, and brought out the wooly jumper of Brendon’s I had taken. I pushed it up against my nose, breathing in deeply, letting my self cry.
This was how my nights went.
I cried every night.

As the days went on and turned to weeks, the same cycle over and over – I started to wonder why I loved Brendon like I did even though every time he moaned, everytime he called out Dallon’s name and every time he kissed him in front of me, he was literally tearing me and ripping me into shreds.
Yet I still loved him.
This was new; before I liked him, I like him a lot, but I just liked him.
But now I think I’m in love. Head over heels, smack me in the face and crush my heart under your foot love.
Sometimes he doesn’t even come home, and I worry, I worry every night.
What if he’s hurt? What if he’s crying? What if he’s lied somewhere longing for me?
But I know that in actual fact he’s just being felt up by tainted fingers – and liking it.
But at least I get to sleep in my own bed.

Spencer appeared at the door of my bedroom. I was, at the time, crying softly into the bed sheets. He knocked and I snapped my gaze, but it was too late to wipe the tears away. Spencer signalled with his hand.
“Get dressed. We’re going out. We need to talk.” He said, shutting the door. I sniffled and dragged my self to the wardrobe, refusing to even touch any of Brendon’s clothes.

“Ryan, seriously, we need to talk about this.” Spencer sighed, drumming his thumbs on the lid of his coffee out of habit. Jon sat beside him, silently.
I breathed in shakily. “We have nothing we need to talk about..”
“We’re not stupid, Ryan. We hear you crying, we know something’s up. You can tell us,” Jon tilted his head, crossing his arms and resting them on the table.
I gazed down at my coffee. “I’ll sound ridiculous.” I whispered, shutting my eyes and letting a tear drip. It landed on my coffee lid.
“No you won’t, just tell us, Ryan.” Spencer frowned, concerned. “We’re all really worried.”
“Even Brendon?” I hissed, perhaps a little too obviously. Jon’s shoulders relaxed like they had a few weeks ago when I was ill.
“Just tell us,” Spencer exhaled, wrapping his hands around his coffee. I sniffed and gazed ashamedly down at the table. I fiddled nervously with the plastic lid.
“I um..” I mumbled. “I think I – think I might have – I think I might be.. In.. In..” My eyes were getting wet and I pushed a hand over my mouth. I hated to admit it outloud, even though it was so much more than true. Jon nodded in indication to go on. “Love, with.. Brendon.”
Spencer’s jaw dropped a little but Jon didn’t even waver. They were both staring at me and I couldn’t handle it anymore – I stood up, throwing my coffee to the floor and sprinting back towards our apartment. The door was unlocked, and as soon as I entered, I realised the people inside were sure they were on their own.
I moved towards my bedroom and pulled open the door, already aware of what I was going to see.
Brendon’s legs were draped over Dallon’s shoulders, and his thighs and bottom were both red raw. Dallon was bent with his tongue pushed down Brendon’s throat, and the noises were louder than ever, and my head was going to explode. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Get out!” I cried, tears pouring down my cheeks. “Get out! Get aw-way from me, get out of my room, get out of my life, both of you!” I sobbed, banging my fists against the walls. Brendon was embarrassed and he yanked up his boxers, scrambling over to me with scarlet cheeks.
“Ryan, wait, I’m sorry for taking your bed, I’ll stop, Ryan wait-“ I shoved him away from me, my hands touching his bare chest. Dallon didn’t even seem to care as he pulled his clothes on, seemingly more angry that they didn’t get to have sex than he did about me seeing them. Brendon however was ashamed and embarrassed, his whole body turning an impossibly hot shade of crimson.
“/Get out!/” I screamed, shoving them out of the room and locking it behind them, curling into Brendon’s side of the bed and putting a hand over my mouth to stop any audible cries from escaping.
I heard the front door shut and then, I was all alone.
The bed smelt sickly sweet, but somehow I couldn’t get enough of it and I enveloped myself entirely in the sheets, finding some of Brendon’s clothes on the floor.
I needed those hands on me. I needed him making noises like he was making for Dallon, and it wasn’t fair – Brendon’s sculpted fingers and lips had touched Dallon everywhere.
I think I passed out around half an hour later from exhaustion – the image of them moving together as one wasn’t my imagination anymore – I had seen it with my own eyes and the image was haunting me.
And I fell asleep with the lies on my tongue and the tears dripping from my eyes.