(c) His Thorns (PG-13)

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(c) His Thorns (PG-13)

Post by zero on Wed 10 Sep 2008, 2:08 pm

A tad bit long, so I'll use two posts? Is that allowed? whatnow? O_O
Secret personality disorder. A flick on the nose to anybody who gets it.

“You’re thinking about Pete again, aren’t you?”

The question surprised Ryan, but he quickly recovered. He plastered a small smirk on his face, tucking his finger under Brendon’s chin and kissed him. Once their lips met, Ryan pulled away. Tease. But never the less, Brendon smiled. He took the action as a simple denial, but to Ryan it was because he didn’t really have an answer to his question.

Ryan always wondered how Brendon could read his mind like it was a torn page from a book of nursery rhymes. That’s how Brendon called it. Nursery rhymes, no wonder he was gay. He smiled at the thought, he knew that Brendon was gay because of Ryan.

Brendon laced their fingers together and swung it back and forth. “You know, I was thinking maybe we could go out and –”

“– I have plans with Pete,” Ryan said like the idea had just popped into his head. “Y’know, share our thoughts with lyrics and . . . you know . . . .”

His boyfriend looked baffled. “So you were thinking of him?” Brendon arched his eyebrow, letting go of his boyfriend’s hands before crossing his arms in front of his chest. He just rolled his eyes, kissed Brendon’s cheek and left to see his boss. As soon as he walked out the door, Pete was already waiting outside.

“You’re such a manipulative son of a gun, you know that, right?” Ryan breathed a laugh, smelling Pete’s breathe like newly cut grass. Mints, just like he expected. He knew Pete would do anything to impress him. Or rather, to get into his pants. Either way, it turned him on.

Pete laughed too, dragging his teeth across his bottom lip. A clear sign of want, Ryan noted. “Where’d you get that idea?” Everybody knew the answer to that - except Brendon, maybe – so Pete didn’t bother answering and started a new conversation. He knew that the small chat wouldn’t last long, both of them did.


As soon as they collapsed on the bed, Pete scrambled next to Ryan to wrap him in his arms, but he quickly moved away. “Don’t,” he whispered. He turned away with his back to Pete and closed his eyes attempting sleep. He heard Pete heave a sigh and turn away. Ryan frowned; he would’ve wanted Pete to keep trying.

“Why do you even bother staying with him anyway?” Ryan’s eyelids jumped open, and he flipped to the side to face Pete. He propped his elbow on the bed and looked at the older boy with an outraged expression.

He shook the anger off with a small shake of the head and rolled his eyes. “Why,” he huffed, “do you ask?” It came out forced and troubled; he closed his eyes and cursed himself in his head. He wasn’t prepared for this.

“You have me,” he said softly, shrugging his shoulders. “I have what you want –”

“– What? You think Brendon doesn’t?” He couldn’t help but snap. He let his head drop on the bed and closed his eyes but his eyebrows were in a frown. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, he thought. Pete was supposed to not care whether Brendon and he were together. He was supposed to like what they had.

Peter’s eyes moved down, almost ashamed. He grabbed hold of Ryan’s hand and whispered, “I’m sorry.” He caressed Ryan’s inked wrists, tracing over the word ‘Hatter’. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” But Ryan jerked his hand away.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on.” His answer was bitter, he saw Pete’s lips twitch downward and it gave him an even bigger reason to frown. Ryan collected his clothes, and as soon as he did, he covered his front and walked to the bathroom keeping calm as much as possible.

Staring at himself at the mirror, he glowered at his reflection. He gripped the sides of the linoleum sink and leaned forward. He glared, just glared and waited until the mirror broke because of the anger and frustration that was coming from his stare. In his mind, the mirror did crack, and he let himself believe that.

He pulled on his boxers, then his pants, being as harsh as possible. The rough denim burned his skin and he almost flinched, but he held back. That wasn’t pain, he thought. He looked around for his shirt and found it on the floor. But for some reason, he didn’t bother to put it on.

He felt around his jeans for his phone, and once he found it, he tugged it from his pocket. A sidekick, a gift from Pete. He growled at the sudden remembrance. He dialed his boyfriend’s number and pressed it against his ear.

When someone finally answered, “Come get me. I’m in –” he closed his eyes shut hard as he said the name, “– Pete’s hotel.” Then he dropped the phone into the toilet, hearing the water in it plunge loudly, he left the room.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Pete race to the bathroom and groan when he saw the fallen sidekick. He let a smirk grow on his lips. The smug expression didn’t last too long when people started passing by him. He dropped the corners of his lips and put on a face that just shouted miserable.

Just like he planned, everybody looked at him, judging him, sending him looks of interest. Ones with envy, ones with malice. He almost grinned. Brendon’s familiar car was pulled up on front of the lobby. He had his chin propped on his palm, drumming his fingers against his chin.

Once he got in, he gave his boyfriend the most dreadful and depressing look he could muster. The younger one laid his back and head against the seat and gripped the steering wheel tighter. He sighed, “Ry, what’s wrong?”

Ryan just turned away and looked down. Victory was prancing across his mind, despite his sad façade. He let out a long breathe, “Nothing. Drive.” He knew his short and dull responses worried Brendon. Just what he wanted.

The engine came alive and they were on the road in no time. Ryan hung his head low, sighing again, louder this time. He just needed Brendon to ask him a few more times. “Tell me,” he asked again. “Ryan, what happened?” The stress on his name was a bit forced, but Ryan’s head was too bloated to notice.

The older clicked his tongue and looked at his boyfriend with an empty expression before letting his head drop down again. Just a little more Bren, he thought.

“Look, just tell me what happened and I’ll –” Ryan turned to him and a dead serious expression and it was enough to make Brendon stop talking. It took a while until Ryan finally answered. He was prolonging the suspense, waiting until he had Brendon’s undivided attention. Then the lie slipped through like silk against his lips -

“He raped me.”


Three weeks after the incident, Brendon got to thinking. He was alone, nobody else in the house with him. Ryan was out like he was supposed to be at that hour of everyday. As soon as Brendon found out about Pete apparently raping his boyfriend, Ryan immediately burst into tears. Being the concerned boyfriend that he was, he called his mother’s therapist and set up Ryan’s schedule.

Ryan was completely ecstatic about it, thanking Brendon with a long smack on the lips. Brendon couldn’t help but be happy, thinking that this was exactly Ryan needed. Ryan agreed with him, it was exactly what he needed, somebody to have sympathy towards him to boost his ego. But that was a secret, of course.

He had done everything for Ryan. Keeping anything that had to do with Pete Wentz away from him. The slightest remembrance of the man made Ryan cry. From a small sob to bawling, and it worried Brendon. But whenever Ryan would come home with a smile that put the sun to shame, Brendon started wonder.

He’d ask about it at one dinner, Ryan’s reaction wasn’t very good.

“Babe, don’t you think you’ve seen enough of the therapist?” Once he asked, he heard the metal that was once in Ryan’s hands clank against his plate. He looked up and saw Ryan reach up to his face with both hands. Once his face was covered, he started shaking.

But he figured it out. It wasn’t much of a surprise to him and it didn’t really take much to find out the truth. One call to Pete while Ryan was out was all it took. Pete was more than happy to explain, he even said a small “say sorry to Ryan for me, will you?” at the end.

What did surprise him was the fact that he wasn’t at all surprised – if that even made sense. To him, nothing was making sense. The world was spinning, only to him though. “I can’t believe I let him do that to me,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead.

A few moments later, Ryan was home. And just as Brendon expected, he had a happy grin in his face as his boyfriend poked his head into the open space. Brendon’s eyes glossed over him without recognition. This didn’t amuse Ryan, usually when he’d come home to Brendon he’d be presented a hug and a kiss.

checked by t.b.
Leading by Example

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Re: (c) His Thorns (PG-13)

Post by zero on Wed 10 Sep 2008, 2:09 pm

Ryan knew exactly what would catch Brendon’s attention. He slinked to him with a smirk, and he moved close. “You wanna go to bed early today? I’m so tired.” He made sure that his voice was deep and that his breath was hot against Brendon’s lips.

Brendon closed his eyes, still tired. He didn’t dare talk, their lips were too close together. If he were to form words, their lips would bump together. But he wasn’t going to give in, he was angry. That’s what he’s been trying to convince himself. Be angry, over and over again in his head.

So instead, he turned his head away and said, “How about we just cuddle?”

He heard Ryan sigh and slip his arms around Brendon’s sides. Once they were close together with chest pressed against each other, Ryan laid his lips on Brendon’s neck. Sticking out his tongue a bit, he moved the kiss up making Brendon shiver.

Once he reached Brendon’s ear he whispered, “Come on Brenny,” he smirked when he heard Brendon gulp, “It’s been ages since we’ve done this.”

He moved his arms away from Brendon’s waist to the front of Brendon’s jeans and slipped his fingers into the belt loops. He chuckled and in one swift motion, he jerked it down. The sudden action made Brendon yelp.

All of a sudden, Brendon found his voice, but it was shaky and he stuttered a lot. “Uh Ryan . . .” he gulped again, “C-could you be honest and –”

But he never got to finish his sentence; the one he thought would make everything awkward and stop what was happening then. In an attempt to silence him, Ryan placed his mouth on top of his, and the whole world seemed to disappear. All Brendon wanted to do was to push Ryan away but for some reason, the message didn’t seem to get through his body. Instead, his lips parted under Ryan's, inviting more.

The bitter taste of beer entered his mouth when Ryan’s tongue did. It was more urgent, faster and they were both starting to lose breath. For a short second, their lips pull apart; a gentle breeze flutters over the flame extinguishing the desperate heat. Their breathing comes out in short, desperate gasps. Brendon wanted to talk but only a word escaped his mouth.


Ryan woke up to an empty bed the next morning. Twisting and turning, half expecting his boyfriend’s arms to wrap around him whenever he did. But nothing happened, and he felt cold and couldn’t help but wake up. Brendon was nowhere – and Ryan actually felt neglected.

“Bren?” The sound was meant to echo through the whole apartment but it came out more like a whisper. But again, in Ryan’s head, it was loud. And, again, he believed that it was. He pulled on a random article of bottom clothing and looked for Brendon – nowhere.

A note on the fridge, a short “I’m out, feed yourself baby.” It left Ryan unhappy, unsatisfied, uncared for, unimportant, and he didn’t like it. So he went off to go find someone that would make him feel the complete opposite. Problem was, nobody wanted to do it with him anymore.

He sneered and thought, “I guess news travels fast. I wonder if anybody wants to do Pete anymore.” He stayed home, sitting around doing nothing. He waited for Brendon, and while he did, he started plotting ways to make Brendon get worried.

Forgetting to see his therapist and remembering only after hours it was done, he simply shrugged it off. Thinking that maybe it would make his boyfriend worry more. What he didn’t know was that Brendon canceled every single meeting they had together, but Ryan didn’t know that and Brendon made sure he didn’t.

When Brendon finally walked through the door, Ryan was hiding under a blanket on one of the kitchen chairs and the phone in the middle of the table. The scene didn’t quite surprise Brendon but he acted like he did because he knew that’s what Ryan wanted.

“What’s wrong, Ry?” He walked to Ryan, hand stretched out to pull the covers from Ryan but he hears a whimper.

“Pete keeps on calling,” he said, turning to Brendon with another one of his blank expressions. He knew that it made Brendon worry, but it didn’t quite work this time.

Instead, he rolled his eyes and picked up the phone to return it to its proper place. “I was with Pete all day.” He grabbed the blanket from Ryan’s hands and folded it up and into the cabinet it went. Brendon did everything like there was nothing wrong, but Ryan thought different.

“You talked to him?” the look of disgust was on Ryan’s face but the younger boy simply shrugged and walked away from him to a room where he could change.

Ryan was left alone, drumming how fingers on the glass table looking fed up. The fact that he had been caught never seemed to register in his mind. But he just narrowed his eyes and thought the Brendon wasn’t going to be able to resist.

The older boy decided to go out for a walk. Maybe it would make him feel better, and boy did it. He ‘tripped’ three times and everybody was so worried about him it made him smile. He had convinced himself that Brendon would love him again once he came home, because everybody loved Ryan.

But by the time he got home, Brendon was already lying in bed. It wasn’t what Ryan expected, he expected his loving boyfriend to be seated in front of the door waiting for him. And that once he got home, he would be hugged by Brendon to death.

So Ryan did the only thing he could do now, he laid with him. He curled up beside Brendon and sighed. Brendon wasn’t really asleep, Ryan – more than anybody – would know.

“I didn’t go to therapy today,” he whispered. Brendon’s breathing quickened, but he didn’t answer still trying to pass off as asleep but Ryan knew better.

Twirling his finger in Brendon’s hair, he knew he was bothering Brendon. “And I cut myself on the arm. It’s bleeding.” Lies were flying from his mouth, but he didn’t care. He was willing to give himself a big, deep gash on the arm if it meant Brendon loving him.

He’d have to remember to hurt himself the next morning before his boyfriend woke up so it didn’t look like he was lying. But still, Brendon said nothing and remained still. This aggravated Ryan, he didn’t do well when nobody cared if he was hurt or not.

But why do it tomorrow, he thought, no better time than today, right? His dangerous train of thought was out of control, but he didn’t look like he cared. Ryan stood from bed in a zombie-like state and walked out of the room with no other intention but to make Brendon love him.

He looked for the kitchen knife and once he had it in his hands he sat down. Held the blade Right on top of the pale skin. Just when it was about to slice through he stopped abruptly. “If I’m doing it for Brendon, might as well do it in front of him,” he said to himself.

So he did – he walked to the bedroom slowly, using broad steps. As if it was something used in a movie to prolong suspense. That’s how it was in Ryan’s mind, that’s how everything was; a movie.

“Brendon?” His voice cracked when he said the name. He was right in front of Brendon, holding the knife up. Ryan could tell he was asleep, and it just got Ryan angry.

So he said, “I’m about to cut myself!”

When he saw Brendon’s eyelids open, he immediately jumped back. Ryan daringly positioned the knife so that if he wasn’t careful and moved too much it would make him bleed. Brendon – for the first time that day – looked completely scared for Ryan.

But he didn’t say anything, just stared. If he were to say something like, “drop the knife!” Ryan would do so and would still probably cut himself. Ryan’s eyes were bright and it made him look crazy but in a blink of an eye, the craze disappeared.

And sadness replaced it. “Do you love me?” This was the Ryan that Brendon knew. The Ryan he knew he could stop so he took advantage of the moment. He stood up but no –

“Stop it and tell me you love me, or I’ll – I’ll –”

“You’ll what?” Brendon had to be brave for a moment. Brendon had to let go of the anger he hold for his lover to save him. He made a note in his head to never give Ryan the cold shoulder again.

The older boy twitched and gripped the knife tighter. “I’ll kill myself.” But Brendon knew better. Brendon knew it was all an act to get attention. Nobody knew Ryan better than he did.

Except now.

He rolled his eyes as an attempt to show Ryan that he wasn’t afraid of his boyfriend’s attention-wanting antics. He walked to him with arms out stretched and said, “Ryan, give me the –”

Shrip, the metal blade went. Ryan let a manic laugh escape his mouth as he dug deeper. “Do you love me now?” he taunted. Brendon couldn’t believe his eyes, killing yourself for attention that you’ll never get to see or feel.

And he died – simple as that. That was what was circling around Brendon’s mind, he’s dead. He went mad just thinking about it – he’s dead. But still –

“It was all your fault anyway.”

Then everybody was mad.

checked by t.b.
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